#and Arthur is like bow boy

[hopelessromantic5]

King Arthur happens to be traveling through Ealdor the exact day the citizens decide they’ve had enough of Merlin.

Labeling him too dangerous, they tied him up on the pyre in the center of town.

As long as Merlin had been alive, he’d never seen this pyre lit.

He would’ve just gotten himself out of this situation with his ‘gifts’ if it weren’t for his poor mother.

The villagers would never let her live in peace if he magically disappeared.

No, this was the only way she could go on living, even with a broken heart.

He didn’t fight. He didn’t really hear much of what they spit at him. But he could hear his mother wailing at him, to save himself, to do whatever he must do.

He’d resigned himself to an early death.

Tom, the town representative, started spewing some righteous words at him. New Religion words that didn’t quite make sense to him, but that’s to be expected. He is, himself, a creature of the old religion, if prophecy is to be trusted.

“Do you have anything to say for yourself, serpent?”

Merlin opened his mouth to tell his mother that he loved her, but he stopped short.

In the distance, he could hear a sound.

The beating of hooves on hard, cold dirt.

Visitors were approaching.

It must be fate, he thinks.

As the horses drew closer, the villagers slowly turned their attentions away from him.

Merlin simply hung his head, letting the Earth he loved so dearly decide which way his life would swing.

“What is the meaning of this?”

A calm, steady voice came from behind him. Deep and concerned. Merlin wished he could see the man.

“My lord,” Tom bowed, as well as he could, which was strange.

Upon realization, Merlin’s eyes nearly bugged out of his head, were these visitors noble? They never had nobility stay long enough to make comments on anything, only ever just passing through.

“I asked you a question.” The voice said again, with all the authority of someone who’s used to using it.

“This man is a sorcerer, sire. We were just-“

“What has he done?”

“Sire?”

“What has this man done to call for these extreme measures?” When no one answered him immediately, he rephrased.

“Surely there must’ve been a crime committed?” As if it’s a question.

Merlin’s mother pulled herself out of shock and brought herself forth.

“He did nothing, sire.” She spoke firm and unmoving. She must’ve seen hope in this man that Merlin had yet to lay eyes on. “He’s only ever used it for healing wounds and helping our gardens in the winter. Please have mercy on him, my lord. He is my only son.” Tears started falling as her voice broke. She finally met Merlin’s eyes again and he smiled at her, weakly.

“So this man-“

“Sorcerer.” Corrected Tom. What a dick.

“This man, did nothing but heal you and help you survive and this is how you repay him?”

Again no answer.

The man seemed to gesture at Tom, walking towards the town elder, and bringing him finally into Merlin’s line of sight.

The doomed boy nearly gasped.

Silver and red bled together in the sun, armor and finery melded like roses in white sand.

The man-the lord…the knight? He had golden blonde hair, that shone like it’s own light.

Blue eyes made even more obvious and striking surrounded by unblemished, sun-kissed skin.

“You seem to be leading the horde. Tell me why?” No, answer. “Cut him down.” A command. The stranger’s face was a hard, blank line.

Funny how, even then, he didn’t feel like a stranger. But Merlin was in no state to remember it.

“My lord, I do not think that would be wise. Your father was the one to wage war on magic-“

“I am not my father. Cut him down.”

Merlin swallowed. Uther Pendragon was the only person in his mind that waged the war on magic, that began the purge. Which means this man could only be his son, Prince Arthur.

What a prince he was.

Well, King, now.

No wonder every person in the vicinity practically dropped to their knees upon his arrival. They’d all heard stories of ‘The Just King’ that now reigned over Camelot. Giving whatever he could to his citizens that needed it most, never turning anyone away who seeks shelter. Merlin had heard the same as everyone else. Seeing the King in person now, he was in awe.

“I will not endanger the lives of all who live here.” Tom turns back to Merlin with the lit torch.

Merlin held his breath, but the second Tom turned away from him, the King pulled his sword. It made the loveliest sound as it left the sheath.

The sound of salvation.

Tom had the tip of a majestic blade directed right at his throat, as the King spoke again.

“I said, cut him down.”

The look on the King’s face was one that could kill.

Merlin wondered momentarily why he cared so much.

Finally someone from the crowd stepped forward with a knife and began to cut away Merlin’s ties.

Hunith leapt forward and engulfed her son in a hug, while also somewhat holding his body upright.

He did not want to let go, considering he thought he would never get to hug his mother again. But the entire village was watching them.

As was-

“What is your name?”

It was phrased as a question but spoken like a command. Merlin knew it was directed at him without opening his eyes.

He did, reluctantly, release his mother and turn to the golden King, facing deep blue eyes head on. Never cowering.

“Merlin.”

The King must’ve seen something in him. Something every other person was blind to or chose to ignore, simply because he was a peasant. He took a step closer and Merlin could hear the tiny tink of metal pieces on his shining armor, as he did so.

“Well, Merlin.” He said, as if trying it out for himself. “Seeing as I’ve just given you your life, I’d like to ask a favor.”

Merlin’s curiosity was peaked, to say the least. King’s didn’t ask favors, they took whatever they wanted.

King Arthur did not wait for a reply to continue.

“I’m in need of assistance. And I could use someone with a gift like yours, specifically.”

Merlin narrowed his eyes in minuscule doubt. Doubt of intentions, doubt of his safety.

The King somehow knowing his exact thoughts said

“Of course you would be permitted to come back when you are needed. And when I have accomplished my goal, if you wish, you can leave. I will not keep anyone against their will. I am simply offering.” A small smile played on his mouth. Flush pink lips. He also held up his hands as if to say ‘I will not harm you’.

Merlin’s gut told him to follow this man.

Terrifyingly, his intuition told him to follow this man, practically a stranger, anywhere. Everywhere.

Merlin felt a pull he’s never felt before. In the moment, he assumed it was immense gratitude for saving his life.

Merlin turned to meet his mothers eyes, he already knew what she was going to tell him.

“I think it will be good for you. To get out for a while.” She smiles softly.

“Will you be alright?” He whispered, glancing at the crowd still gathered around an unlit pyre.

“I’ll be fine.” She grabbed him in a bear hug, like she always did. “And if they boot me out, I’ll come find you.”

Merlin sighed into her shoulder.

“Alright.”

When Merlin turned back, the King had turned his eyes to the ground, giving mother and son a moment of privacy.

Merlin was starting to warm to him already.

“Can I pack first?”

King Arthur met his gaze then, doing that half smile thing, again.

“I suppose.” He nodded. “But don’t dawdle we need to move if we want to make it back before sundown.”

“Yes, sire.” The title which usually held reverence and respect, was laced with sarcasm. He didn’t seem to think twice, as he strode away towards their hut to gather his things.

If Merlin had looked back, he would’ve found a fully beaming King looking after him and about six knights with faces of complete shock.

And perhaps, one knowing mother.

[ynbabe]

We don’t hate each other ୨୧ Arthur x fem! reader

Y/n was Ollie's oldest friend, growing up with him as he raced his way up to formula one, somewhere in between she found Arthur Leclerc, found him a massive fucking pain in the ass that is until something changes when Ollie debuts in Carlos Sainz Ferrari.

A always, comments and requests are always welcome! lemme know what y'all think of this!

Warnings: curses, lime

y/nl/n

y/nl/n GET THIS MAN IN A FERRARI ASAP 💪 💪 💪 😮‍💨

Username they're relationship is so important to me actually

username arent they just friends?? username girl you believe that? LOOK AT THEM THEY'RE LITERALLY MARRIED username theyre 18 go touch grass pls 😭

username GET THAT MAN IN A FERRARI!!!

Username shes so real for that bow, ollies so cute 🥹

olliebearman thank you for the very serious pictures of me, a very serious, very profession man

y/nl/n "very serious, very professional man"🤓 shut up you literally cried in my arms when you got called olliebearman i'm telling my pr officer to block you username did what in whose arms now?? username oooh so hes in love love

arthurleclerc Way to go Ols!

y/nl/n gtfo my post arthurleclerc gtfo off my fyp y/nl/n block me bitch arthurleclerc too much effort, cry olliebearman guys you're in public 😭

username whats with Arthur and Y/N? 😅

Username they're competing for Ollies love Username bro you wrong for that 😂

arthurleclerc

arthurleclerc to MY bestfriend, congratulations on making it to Ferrari and f1! You deserve the best! Hope my brother treated you well.

username SHOTS!! HAVE!! BEEN!! FIRED!!

Username he know he wrong for that first photo

Username okay wait. How do both Leclerc have a Wattpad ass gay romance is it genetic??

Username bro all capped the my 😭

username mans petty as hell

username @/y/nl/n me personally, I wouldn't take that

username hes stealing your man girl go get him!!

oliiebearman Thank you Arthur! Yes he did!

arthurleclerc ur welcome ols ❤️ username @/y/nl/n were waiting for you boo username its the red heart for me Username Charles come get your brother!!! he's cosplaying you and max on main again

y/nl/n Congrats Ollie!! love you 🥰 (Not gonna make this abt myself like some other girls)

arthurleclerc revoking ur paddock pass btw 🥰 Olliebearman ... I'm blocking you both 🥰

username mans done with them 😂

You rolled your eyes as you saw Arthur's comment on yours, how could he be so childish. Forget it, you reminded yourself, today is for Ollie and Ollie only.

You waited in Ollie's driver room till he was done with the debrief, you'd go out to celebrate with him and his family later. His trainer had given him a pass on the diet, after all, scoring points in F1 was no joke.

You jumped off the chair you were lounging in, ready to hug the man as you heard the door open but to your disappointment, it was only Arthur.

You groaned as you saw the boy and he scowled in return. You never knew how your rivalry began. One moment you were visiting Ollie for the first time at Prema and the next you were in a screaming match with a Monagasuque man with the cutest accent.

"What are you doing?" He asked, rather, demanded.

"Waiting for my friend," you replied with the same annoyance in your voice, "What are you doing here?" you accused, stepping towards him.

He pulled a face, closing the gap, "Here to support my friend, you know cause we can actually stand each other,"

"Hah, sure, at least I'm not jealous of my friends, you know cause they actually make it into f1," you shrugged, knowing it was a low blow.

His face morphed into anger as he pushed closer towards you, "You need to shut up," he spoke in a low voice, you'd be scared of the taller, much stronger boy if you weren't doused in anger yourself.

"Make me then," why did you say that- Oh shit.

Your eyes widened as he kissed you, making both of you stumble back and fall on Ollie's driver room bed. You groaned as your back hit the mattress, the older boy breaking the kiss, looking down at you in concern.

"O-oh, my god! Y/n I'm so sorry, I don't know wh-" he began rambling but you couldn't let him win, could you? So you kissed him back, letting your hands run through his hair.

He led one hand to your waist, letting it fall under your shirt, he hissed at the warmth your skin radiated under his palms.

"Oh my god, OH MY GOD," Someone yelled, making Arthur push off the bed, and fall on the floor.

"Ollie this isn't what it looks like," he explained from the floor making you frown.

"It isn't?" you asked making him turn to you.

"No, it is," he explained to you, then turned to shocked Ollie in the doorway, "I mean- it is," he tried to explain.

Ollie paused for a moment, "On my bed, really?" he replied, disgust in his voice.

You picked up the pillow on his now messed up bed, throwing it at his head, "Shut up,"

He laughed as he ducked, "Hey, at least none of us had to intervene," he confessed making you and the boy who was now getting up off the floor groan in defeat.

olliebearman

olliebearman never make out in my room again, I beg you

Y/nl/n sorry I stole your boyfriend, Ols

arthurleclerc you are still the love of my life, y/n's just a friend olliebearman DO NOT START THIS AGAIN

Username HUH?

username chat is this real rn? username fr thought they hated each other username bro said he was going to get his Wattpad enemies to lovers one way or the other

username Charles Leclerc it's your turn now.

charlesleclerc So all the ranting actually led to something?

y/nl/n he talks about me?? arthurleclerc NO I DIDN'T! Charles shut up or I'll tag someone you rant about. Charleslecler y/n changed you i dont like this relationship anymore username WHAT DO YOU MEAN??? Username First we get Arthur x y/n and now we are getting Charles read like filth 😭

trying something new, thoughts?

[brummiereader]

MASTERLIST

Hopelessly Devoted (PART ONE)

Summary: A flashback to when you and Tommy were young, carefree and smitten with one another plays out in your head as you sit alone in the Garrison, watching him now in the arms of another woman whilst you desperately hold onto the love you still have for him. Does Tommy share the same sentiments or has his bitterness towards you stained the love he claims he no long has for you?

Warnings: Language, angst, fluff, mutual pining

Authors note: Inspired by the song "Hopelessly Devoted" by Olivia Newton-John. RIP sweet angel.

"We're bloody late again!" your mother muttered under her breath as she hurried up the church steps holding onto her hat from the bitter January wind whilst you are your little brother George, lovingly known as Georgie walked behind her. "Ten minutes until we leave I said" she huffed turning around, scowling at you as you rolled your eyes in response. "Ten minutes! In the time it took for you to put your dress on I had swept the porch and gotten your brother ready. Why did you give me such an unruly child?" she said looking up to the heavens expecting some sort of response. "Out all hours gallivanting about with those Shelby boys, never listening to a word I say. I'm being punished aren't I, for the sins of her father...the bloody fool he was, drinking himself to an early grave, leaving me here to fend for myself with two kids..." she carried on as you held your little brothers hand, a small sigh leaving his mouth as he looked up at you, shaking his head at your mother's relentless rambling. " Y/N let me look at you. Bloody hell child, you look a state!" she frowned as she turned to face you at the top of the steps.

"Can you just stop" you said trying to move her hands away as she pushed your hair back behind your ears, pinching your cheeks to give them a rosy glow. "Look at your dress..." she huffed as she straightened the bottom out, pulling at the frilly pink fabric whilst your little brother reached up to open the church door. "Stay still!" she said as you started fidgeting away from her hands, her overbearing mothering making you feel like you was eight years old again.

" For god's sake I'm not a kid!" you replied rather loudly when the doors fully opened and everyone in their seats turned around to look at the commotion. "Shit" you mumbled under your breath as you looked to the sea of eyes now staring back at you, the loud bang of the church door slamming against the brick wall startling you as your little brother giggled in amusement.

" Bloody Walk Y/N" your mother said through gritted teeth behind you as she took her and George's hat off. Smiling graciously left to right at the people seated along the outer rows your mother politely mouthed small hellos and good mornings as all three of you made your way down the aisle, her normal vocabulary filled with a plethora of her favourite profanities not once leaving her lips. Turning your head you quickly spotted Tommy sitting next to his family with a huge grin on his face, loving every second of the embarrassment he knew you was enduring. As the sound of your heels on the stone floor echoed loudly through the church, your entrance now the focus point of everyone's attention, you finally reached the alter with the Reverend stood beside it. You could almost feel the laughter Tommy and Arthur were holding back as your mother pushed you forward to bow. With a grunt leaving your throat you lowered your head, a small mischievous glint in your eye at the sudden, yet stupid idea to prove to your mother how unruly of a child you really was.

" Forgive me father for I have sinned, it has been mere hours since I last pissed my mother off..." You said dramatically as your mother's eyes widened in embarrassment a gasp leaving her mouth as she grabbed you by the arm and span you back around, all while apologising profusely to the Priest now shaking his head at her. Oh the shame, the humiliation, she would never live this down. The gossip she would have to endure for months in the women's wash house was a fair consolation for her making you wear this god awful dress you proudly thought to yourself as you walked to find a seat. Sighing the Reverend lowered his eye as he turned the page of his sermon, longing to be appointed somewhere, anywhere out of Small Heath. No number of hail Mary's could save this sinful town. As you walked down the aisle the sudden sound of Tommy and Arthur laughing had you biting your inner cheek holding back your own amusement as you watched Polly snap her head in their direction.

" Shut up" Polly whispered as she reached over hitting each of them in the chest. "Bloody kids" she mouthed sympathetically to your mother as you all walked by.

" Girlfriend finally made it" Arthur whispered in Tommy's ear, knowing full well how smitten he was with you.

" Shes not my girlfriend, shut it" he muttered under his breath as you sent him a small wave which he quickly returned.

" Hi ya" Arthur laughed mocking him.

" Fuck off Arthur" Tommy replied as he elbowed him in the ribs leaving him wincing in pain.

" I'll let you have that one baby brother" he laughed rubbing his side.

" No fucking swearing in church!" Polly said quietly through gritted teeth as she hit the back of Tommy's head. It was always an eventful service when the Shelby's attended, which made you wonder what they had done to have their Aunt force them this time.

Walking out into the fresh air, free from the stuffy confines of the church you pushed back your hair behind your shoulders folding your arms as you faced the sun. Closing your eyes you sighed as the rays of light beamed onto your skin. With summer still a long way off you was enjoying the rare event in which the sun broke through the smoke filled skies of Small Heath. That was until you felt the warmth disappear and a large shadow take it's place. Opening your eyes you was met with Tommy Shelby standing right in front of you, a cigarette precariously hanging on the corner of his mouth, grinning from ear to ear.

" Get out the way you're blocking the sun" you said as you pushed him to the side closing your eyes again.

" Hmm, you are looking rather pasty"

" Thanks Thomas, you really know how to compliment a lady" you said taking the cigarette out his mouth as you walked over to sit on the brick wall just outside the church.

"Lady?" Tommy laughed as he sent you a cheeky smile." Nice dress by the way. You look like a flower girl"

" Shut up" you said playfully hitting his arm in response, hating everything about the overly embroidered puffy dress you were begrudgingly wearing. " Have you seen yourself?" you smirked looking down at his outfit "Think your Aunt needs to shorten those" you laughed as you nodded to the ends of his trousers bunched up around his boots.

" They're Arthur's hand-me-downs, the lanky git" he said kicking a stone on the ground that you both watched roll into the road.

" So what did you do this time to end up here on a Sunday morning?" You asked as you turned your head to face him.

" Aunt Pol found out Arthur stole one of the candelabras from the Reverends study. Convinced himself it was solid gold, you should have seen his face when we melted it down in Charlie's yard and it was copper" Tommy laughed as he looked back at you. " Polly was furious said he had sinned enough for the whole house and we were all damned to hell if we didn't come today" he explained further as his eyes lingered on your face, watching the way your nose scrunched up as you laughed, a sight he never got tired of. " So you coming later?" he asked leaning into you as he took his cigarette now stained with pink lipstick back from between your fingers, not that he minded.

" No absolutely not. Do you not remember the last time we followed one of Arthur's genius ideas?" you answered folding your arms having already made your mind up.

" He's got a map this time. Come on it will be fun" he said nudging his arm against yours.

" A map to what?"

" To where this rich fuck has all his liquor stored"

"Can I come?" John said running up to you both after overhearing the conversation, poking his brothers knee with a stick in attempt to get his attention which Tommy quickly put a stop to by giving him a kick in the shin.

" No, fuck off " Tommy said pushing him away from in front of him as John stormed off crying in search of his Aunt. " So how about it? "

" Fine, but only because it's your birthday tomorrow" you said giving in as you both smiled to eachother. "But this better be fool proof. I can't risk getting in trouble with my mum again, she's a few breaths away from kicking me out"

" That's alright, you can come live with me" he said winking to you as you looked up at him through your lashes, blushing a darker shade of pink than your dress." We'll come by to get you at eleven, don't be late ok? "

" I'm never late" you responded as Tommy rolled his eyes flicking his cigarette onto the ground. If there was one thing he had learnt over the years it was that you was always late.

" Thomas Michael Shelby! " Polly shouted as she stormed over to you both, dragging John with her by the arm.

"Shit. Right I'm off" Tommy said quickly pecking your cheek as he jumped over the wall running away from his Aunt. Bringing your hand up to your face you pressed your fingers to your skin, a smile dancing on your lips as you turned around to watch Tommy run into the back alleys of Small Heath, fleeing from the fury coming his way. Thomas Michael Shelby your best friend, your partner in crime and also the boy you had been head over heels for as long as you could remember. What a sorry story your limited love life had already been, endlessly pining for a boy you had convinced yourself only saw you as a friend, desperately hoping he felt the same.

It was just after noon when you Tommy and Arthur made your way over the wooden fencing onto the large mansions land. Having never once left the city limits in all of your eighteen years of life you was taken aback by the sheer size of the house in front of you. Surrounded by luscious green grass, rows of trees adorning its drive way, you was sure it was something only seen in films, a far cry from the mud and dirt of Small Heath.

" Give me the map" Tommy said as Arthur handed it to him whilst he looked over the brick wall separating you and the owner who was outside sitting in a garden chair.

"Arthur he has a dog. A mean looking thing" you said as Tommy stood beside you squinting at the map in his hand.

"Yeh well, he would have still been out with that dog hunting, but you were late" Tommy interjected with a smile on his face, having been right about your constant tardiness.

"Don't get your knickers in a twist Y/N, I've been coming here every day for the past week feeding him leftovers, he likes me. He won't make a peep " Arthur said trying to reassure you as you rolled your eyes at him knowing anything the eldest Shelby said was not to be trusted and far from the actual truth.

" Jesus Christ Arthur" Tommy said throwing the map at his brothers chest. " This is a fucking map for a house in London!"

" Ay?" Arthur said as he straightened it out in front of him. " Where's it say that? " he asked as Tommy snatched it back from him pointing at the words "London" written right underneath the name of the house.

" Well how was I supposed to bloody know. They should have put it at the very top"

" It's in fucking capitals Arthur, how can you not..."

" Right I'm going home" you said as the two brothers continued to argue. As always Arthur's ideas were never properly thought out, often getting you in trouble more than anything else.

" Wait Y/N no, come on stay" Tommy said as he looked back to his older brother widening his eyes in gesture to help him convince you not to leave.

" Y/N " Arthur said as he put his arm around your shoulder. " We're at the back entrance. He probably keeps it down in the basement, it won't be far. You're the only one small enough to shimmy through the window to open the lock on the other side. Come on, dont let us down, it's Tom's birthday tomorrow. "

" Fine. But if I put another ladder in my stockings you're paying for a new pair" you said pointing to him as Arthur placed a wooden crate below the window for you to stand on.

"Atta girl" Arthur said as he turned his head around winking to Tommy as you climbed through the window, quickly making in through to the other side. Pushing past his brother, Tommy went to open the door when the dog Arthur promised wouldn't bark suddenly started to do exactly that.

" Hey! Who's there?" the owner said as you all ran into the house. " Get 'em boy" he shouted as his dog came charging round the corner into the building.

" Fucking traitor! After all the food I gave you" Arthur shouted as you all ran down the hall, making your way up to the second level.

" What did you feed him with?" you asked breathlessly as you ran beside them, Tommy's hand resting on your back making sure you didn't get left behind.

"Sprouts"

"Sprouts!" You and Tommy both shouted looking back at him.

" It's all we had"

" No wonder he bloody hates you" Tommy said as all three of you came to a stop behind a wall waiting for a maid to walk by.

" Sniff them out" the owner said as you heard the sound of the dogs nails clicking on the wooden floorboards, getting closer by the second.

" Shiiit, run! Hide! Arthur giggled as you legged it down one of the second floor corridors, Tommy quickly pulling you into a small storage room to the side as Arthur continued to run down the hall. Breathless, you both looked up at eachother as a fit of laughs left your lips. Bringing his finger up to his mouth Tommy gestured for you to be quiet as the sound of the owner walking along the corridor quickly brought your giggles to a stop. Taking in your surroundings you suddenly realised how close you were to eachother. Cardboard boxes were stacked as high as the ceiling all around you, there was barely enough space for one person let alone two.

" Is he gone?" you whispered to which Tommy nodded, his eyes looking over you as he too started to realise how close you were to one another." You're taking all the space" you said trying to free yourself from the uncomfortable position you was in.

" Y/N my backs pushed up against the door. I don't have any more room to move" he said as you huffed in response moving your arm that was stuck between you to the side. Silence fell upon the small room as you continued to fidget in place whilst Tommy cleared his throat, his eyes darting between you and the surrounding boxes.

" What? Why do you keep looking at me like that" you said with a thrown on your face.

" I'm not looking at you like anything" Tommy replied as he quickly glanced away. With your focus now elsewhere, Tommy's eyes drifted down to both of your bodies pressed up against eachother, biting his inner cheek in attempt to rid himself of all the thoughts going through his mind. Taking in every delicate feature of your face, Tommy felt his heart quicken as he continued to stare down at you. God you were beautiful, he had been wanting to tell you those very words for years, wanted to ask you out, tell you how he felt. But unlike his old brother who seemed to have endless amounts of confidence when it came to girls, Tommy never found the courage to make a move. Instead he begrudgingly tormented himself, watching all the boys of Small Heath try their luck with you.

" You're doing it again, stop it!" you said squinting your eyes as you looked up to see him still staring down at you. " You're making me nervous"

" What else am I supposed to look at, you're right in front of me " he said with a small sigh. Just ask her you idiot, he thought to himself as he peered at you in the corner of his eye.

" Y/N erm, I was wondering..." he started to say when you grabbed his hand your eyes widening in a panic.

" Shh. Did you hear that?" You said as you looked behind him to the door.

" Its just a window blowing open" he replied as he glanced down at your hand still holding onto his. Throwing his head back Tommy shook his head, frustrated that the moment he had finally found the courage to ask you out you had cut him off. Bringing his eyes back down to look at you, Tommy took a deep breath. If he couldn't say how he felt he would show it. What was the worse that could happen?

" Fuck it" he said as he cupped your cheeks crashing his lips onto yours. For a brief moment you resisted taken by surprise at Tommy's unexpected move until your whole body finally relaxed and you quickly melted into the kiss. There was no technique to it, wet, messy, all tongues and teeth. But as your lips interlocked you felt a flutter of butterflies fill your stomach, your hands finding their way to his shoulders as Tommy enthusiastically pushed you back the few centimeters remaining between you and the wall behind you.

" Owh" you said as your head hit the wall, the thump loud enough for anyone to hear.

" Shit, sorry" Tommy said as a small giggle escaped your mouth at his overly keen display. Pressing your lips back onto his the kiss was smoother, a small whimper leaving your throat as his tongue brushed over yours. Moaning, Tommy's hand dropped from your waist to your leg as his fingers travelled under you skirt grazing over your suspenders. Things were getting heated, very heated.

" Wait, Tommy I've, i'm a.."

" Fuck sorry, I wasn't trying to" Tommy awkwardly said cutting you and himself off. " Wait, you're a Virgin?" he asked with a small smile etched on the corner of his lips his brows slightly raised.

" Why do you look so surprised? " you answered back, your whole face scrunched up in annoyance.

" No nothing. It's just I didn't think you was...you know" he replied unable to formulate his own words.

" Oh and you're not? You really think I believed that ridiculous story you told us all last summer about how you gave Irene five orgasms in ten minutes" you scoffed with a laugh as Tommy's cheeks suddenly went a crimson shade of red, his hands dropping from your waist.

" Jesus...thanks Y/N" Tommy said looking away with a huff unable to physically move away from the embarrassment surrounding him.

" Slightly exaggerated don't you think? " you giggled as Tommy looked back at you, his hands now on his hips.

" You done?" he huffed as you bit your bottom lip trying to hold back the laugh that was seconds away from escaping. As Tommy pressed his lips back onto yours the small giggle unable to contain itself finally broke free.

" Stop it, I'm trying to concentrate" he said smiling into your lips as he continued to kiss you, his hands roaming over the curves of your body when the door suddenly flew open.

" Oi oi, what's going on in here then? " Arthur said grinning at you both as you let go of eachother. Rolling your eyes you walked out the small room pushing past him the box of whisky and leg of ham he was holding. "Get to second base baby brother?" Arthur sniggered as Tommy thumped him in the arm.

" Fuck off Arthur" Tommy pouted leaving the room and his older brother in fits of laughter. Both barely out the door, your eyes widened as the owner and his dog turned the corner.

" You little bastards. I've seen your faces. I know who you are! You're those trouble making Shelby boys. And look, you've brought your little whore with you, that dead drunk idiot's daughter. How did you petty little thieves make it out of Small Heath, steal a car?"

" Hey! Nobody gets to call her a whore but us" Arthur warned the owner pointing his finger at him as Tommy protectively pushed you behind him. Now in a stand-off between the owner and his drooling dog growling at you, you watched as he unclasped the large metal chain from the dogs collar.

" Go on boy get 'em!" he commanded when Tommy grabbed the leg of ham out the crate in Arthur's arms, launching it in the dog's direction.

" My bloody ham!" Arthur said, furious his dinner had been tossed to the the very dog he felt had betrayed him.

" Run!" Tommy shouted as you all turned around.

" I'm calling the police!"

" Thanks for the whisky old man" Arthur laughed running down the stairs as you and Tommy followed behind him, mentally noting never to follow one of Arthur's ideas again.

Several hours had passed and you Tommy, Arthur and a girl he had picked up along the way were sitting around a campfire in the local woods where Arthur and Tommy's families two vardos were, sipping on the finest whisky you had ever tasted. You couldn't remember the amount of times they had brought you out here to camp, taking you away for a brief moment from the smoke filled air, from the memories of your father that hung over you thicker than any fogged filled skies, a grief you wouldn't have made it through without them. As you sat looking at the flames of the fire mesmerised by their orange glow Tommy glanced over to you, watching the flickering lights from the campfire cast a golden hue on your skin, desperate to be alone with you again, the kiss you shared earlier repeatedly playing out in his head.

" Come on love, let's leave them to it" Arthur said standing up taking his dates hand after noticing his brother staring at you. " See you in the morning" Arthur winked back to Tommy opening the small caravan door, squeezing the girls bum as they both entered. " If the caravan be rocking, don't come a knocking!" Arthur laughed as he shut the door leaving you alone with Tommy.

" Dickhead" Tommy mumbled under his breath as you looked away, biting your bottom lip at how awkward Arthur had suddenly made everything. "It's getting late" you said standing up as you brushed the mud and twigs off your skirt looking back at the other vardo.

" I'll sleep out here" Tommy said as he sat up throwing another log onto the fire.

" You can't sleep out here, you'll freeze to death. Come on, it's not like we've never slept in the same bed" you said only just realising how different this time would be.

" Right, yeh...ok" Tommy said clearing his throat as he stood up.

As you settled into the small bed you watched as Tommy took of his hat and coat, your heart rapidly beating as nerves started to mount in your stomach. Climbing under the covers Tommy turned to face you, his fingers coming up to brush the strands of hair away from your face. Leaning into eachother, both of you turned your head in the same direction, awkwardly banging your foreheads together, resulting in a fit of laughs leaving your lips as Tommy shook his head at you. It was quite possible you were the giggliest girl he had ever met. Relaxing you recomposed yourself as Tommy pressed his lips to yours in a tender embrace. As his hand moved to your lower back, pressing your body closer to his your breath hitched in you throat, nerves now consuming every movement you made. Pulling away Tommy rubbed his thumb over your hip, in an effort to help you relax.

" Let's just lay here together, yeh?" he said taking the pressure away from you, not wanting to rush you into anything you wasn't ready for you as you nodded your head, thankful for his understanding nature. Rolling onto his back Tommy brought you closer into his side as he stroked up and down your arm, happy to finally have you in his arms.

" I nearly forgot" you said as you sat up leaning across him to pick up your coat.

" Happy Birthday" you said pulling out a small gift wrapped in cloth.

" My birthdays not until tomorrow " he chuckled as he sat up.

" It will be in ten minutes" you said as you looked down at your watch, quickly returning your eyes to him pulling out a gold pocket watch from within the delicate fabric.

" Jesus Y/N...you got this for me, how? " he said with a huge grin on his face as he looked to you.

" All those hours pressing clothes. Took me almost a year to be able to afford it"

"Come here" he said bringing you into a hug as you settled back down into the bed together." Thank you" he added as he pressed a kiss to your forehead feeling happier than any win he had ever won at the races.

With his arm securely wrapped around you Tommy couldn't stop the smile on his face as he looked down at the watch in his hand, it was nicest thing he owned and the nicest thing anyone had ever done for him. Glancing at your wristwatch, Tommy turned the dials to the right time, when you took it from him turning it back a further five minutes.

" It's five minutes too late" he said watching you press the knob down.

" That way I'll always be on time for you" you giggled handing it back as Tommy chuckled shaking his head.

" Yeh just means I won't be on time for anything" he smiled closing the watch, keeping it tightly clasped in his hand as you nuzzled your head into his chest.

" Tommy?"

" Mm-hm?" he said as his eyes were about to close.

" What do you think we'll be doing this time ten years from now"

" The same thing" he smiled as his thumb rubbed over the curve of your shoulder. "Only naked" he said as he opened one eye looking to you.

" Tommy!" You said, giving him a small punch to the arm. " I'm serious, what do you think we'll be doing?"

" The same thing Y/N" he said with certainty as he tuned his head to face you. " You'll be in my arms every night from now on, that's a promise" he said as he looked lovingly back at you before giving you one last peck to the lips as you both closed your eyes, dreaming of the future and everything coming your way. Even though you were both young with your whole lives ahead of you one thing was for certain, in that moment you had no doubts that you wouldn't spend the rest of your lives together and every night in each others arms.

Ten years later...

Laughs and chatter of people enjoying eachothers company hummed around you as you sat quietly in the corner of the Garrison, the drink in your hand untouched as the night you and Tommy spent together this time ten years ago asleep in each others arms cruelly played out in your head. As a tear fell from your eye you looked up across the room to see the new barmaid sat tightly against Tommy's body, his arm resting around her shoulders. Tonight it wouldn't be you wrapped in his arms, tonight you would sleep alone as regret over decisions you had made weighed down your already broken heart. Standing up from your seat Tommy's eyes quickly darted to you, watching you pull your coat around you as you brushed the tears from your face, leaving the Garrison in a hurry unable to withstand anymore.

Clutching your coat around you from the cold night air you pushed the last tears from your cheeks as the pain in your heart dug further into your chest.

" Y/N" you heard your name being called by the very man you didn't want to see you like this.

"Yes Tommy" you said turning around as he waited at the Garrison door.

" I need you to go finish those papers at the betting shop for tomorrow" he said lighting a cigarette as he stepped a little closer.

" It's nearly midnight..." you replied as you watched him pull out his pocket watch to check the time. Quickly closing it Tommy clutched it tightly in his hand as he looked back at you. For a brief moment that's all he did as if the memories of that night had suddenly come flooding back to him. Maybe they had never left, and Tommy's heart was aching as much of yours, either way you could never tell, for just as quickly as his face softened for those brief few moments his demeanor abruptly changed, a scowl now spread across his face.

" The deadlines tomorrow " he said sharply looking to you as you shivered in the cold, your eyes red from crying.

" Ok Tommy" you said like you always did, at his beck and call night and day, desperately hanging onto the love you still felt for him. Without saying another word you turned on your heel heading for Watery Lane.

" You not going to wish me a happy birthday then?" Tommy called out as he watched you walk away.

" Happy birthday Tommy" you replied, the words catching in your throat, tears streaming down your face as you walked briskly off into the night. So much had changed over the years, so many promises broken, hearts broken along with them. But yet you still held on, hopelessly devoted to the man who promised to hold you in his arms every night.

NEXT PART

Tag list: @cosniffee @jonsncws @powellssaturn @jessimay89 @bruher @riseandreigns4u @mariaelizabeth21-blog1

[themultifandomgal]

Oh, oh, I have a request! ~~

I have had this one in my mind for a long time. What about Tommy Shelby X sister!reader where before the war he knew her as his sweet naive sister that chokes on cigarette smoke, doesn’t like whisky and looks exactly like their mother. After he returns she is a complete different person, while the men were at war she had to take on the family business with Polly, so she has become a kind of criminal genius? Cold, calculated, unhinged at times and highly intelligent. Tommy is so shock that at first he can’t even recognize her, the look in her eyes is completely different. Maybe that shock turns into fascination, and that fascination into concern as soon as he sees what she has become.

I hope I’m not in difficulty to you with this request, I just need to get it out of my mind. Feel free to ignore it. Thanks. 🫀

Shelby Sister- A Different Girl

Before the war YN was an innocent sweet girl who never smoked or drank. She was the Shelby's pride and joy having being the only one who would rather sit and read a book instead of going out getting pissed. Tommy remembered the first time John gave YN a drink and she almost threw up from it. He also remembered when she tried one of his cigarettes and couldn't stop coughing. YN was your typical sweet doe eyed girl. So when Tommy and his brothers returned from the war they almost didn't recognise the sweet girl. Before the war she would wear dresses, have her long hair braided with a bow now she was in trousers, her hair cut short and the smile she once wore on her face was now gone.

While the boys were away YN took on the family business with her aunt Polly, dealing with many men she had to learn to grow up and how to keep herself safe.

YN walks through the door of the betting shop with her head held high. She walks over to John who's writing the bets on the bored. Rolling her eyes YN snatches the chalk from her brothers hand leaving him shocked

"Your doing it wrong" YN says rubbing off his work "oh and since it's a Friday, Mr Johnson will be in. If you don't deal with him straight away he will cause issues"

"Issues" John scoffs

"Don't say I didn't warn you"

"YN go home. Your not needed" YN turns around to see Tommy walking in with Arthur. YN raises her eyebrows

"You need me"

"No we don't. We dealt with the shop fine before we went away"

"Polly and turned the shop into what it is today. So no. I'm not going home" YN and Tommy end up having a stare off which Tommy becomes fascinated with how much his sister has changed.

YN stays at the betting shop dealing with difficult men with ease which surprises all of her siblings. One man in particular enters the betting shop, a man YN has dealt with many times. The shop had not long closed

"I told you last time to piss off" YN says barley looking at the man while she carries on doing the books

"And I told you last time I'd be back"

"Look" YN sighs now looking up at the man "Mr Harris. I'm a bit tired of removing you from the the shop. So since my brothers are back I'll let you keep that last shred of dignity you have and let you walk out of here on your own" Mr Harris starts laughing as YN stands up from her seat. Tommy watches from his office ready to intervene and any second. But what took him back was seeing his once sweet and innocent sister take out a gun and give the man a warning shot. But when the man started laughing Tommy whiteness his sister shout the man in the head. Fascination turns to concern as he watches YN place her gun back in her holster then wipe the blood off her face

"I actually liked this top" she sighs

"YN?" Tommy slowly walks out of his office slowly "why did you shoot him?"

"He's been a pain for months. Good riddance if you ask me. Now I best get rid of this body" YN says placing her hands on her hips. Long gone has Tommys sister, and she's been replaced with almost a new person. Someone Tommy knows doesn't need protecting, someone he knows he can rely on.

[padfootdaredmetoo]

Can you write something for: "being Tommy's wife"? Please. The girl would have been raised by Polly, who raised and loves her like a daughter. She grew up with the boys, especially Tommy. She witnessed Finn's birth and everything. When he goes to war, he promises to stay with her when he returns. Another, Tommy's brothers have her as a sister so they will defend her as one, Ada and her are best friends and Isaiah had a crush on her as a kid... Kisses, sorry for the long thing, I love your stories, see u later 🩷.

Hey Love,

I am deeply sorry this took a million years to write. Thanks for sending this in and for being so kind. I'm so happy that you enjoy my writing. Hope you like this one <3

Warnings: Peaky related themes like violence, murder, drunk dads, beatings, suicide, childbirth - and of course kissing and cuteness

You had always been close with the Shelby Family. Your mother died in childbirth leaving you without siblings, something that was easily remedied with the constant chaos of your next-door neighbors. You were often lumped in with them as your father worked constantly. You traded what extra things you had for their company. You weren't rich living on Watery Lane, but you always had extra bread which was kind of like being rich. 

As you got older you started to understand what happened down at the Betting Shop. You remembered Arthur taking Tommy aside and telling him to keep you as far away from there as possible. So he took you down to the cut and you spent most of your time with the horses in Charlie’s yard. 

Those moments were your happiest. Tommy was always around to get into trouble with. One night when your dad had laid a beating on you for ruining a pair of shoes in the stable he’d helped you climb out of your window across the ledge and into his bedroom. He’d fixed your swelling cheek with some ice wrapped in a kitchen towel. 

There was an unspoken easiness between the two of you. John and Arthur were different. John was always teasing you loudly and Arthur was always laughing. Always fun and games until someone was giving you a hard time, then they were all business. 

You’d been there for Finn’s birth. A memory that was both happy and sad. You normally avoided the Shelby parents at all costs. Mrs. Shelby had a dead look in her eyes and she would twirl around the kitchen talking to ghosts, other times she would cry out in the night so loud you could hear her in your own apartment. Mr. Shelby was mean. Not much to him other than that. Finn was special, he was the first baby you ever held. You had to help Polly clean him off and get him sorted when he was born. You remembered sitting down once he had been fed and fallen asleep. You sat down covered in after birth swearing you would never have children. Ever. 

Watching Tommy come into the room and hold his sleeping brother with a look in his eyes, something deep inside you reconsidered. 

Polly was alright, she’d always put bows in your hair and read your tea leaves. Out of all the adults in your life, you had the biggest soft spot for her. She had all the juiciest stories that made you want to go out and start living your own life. 

Something you were just on the cusp of doing before the war started. 

The boys left and you tried not to let it break you. The unmovable safety they had brought you was gone and the city seemed vicious. Tommy wasn't there when your father was drunk… Tommy wasn't there at all. You’d stayed awake all night before he left. Laying there with him talking about everything you wouldn't be able to talk about while he was gone. Well, almost everything. You held his hand and laughed till your ribs hurt at all his jokes about what it would be like and what he would do while he was gone. Anything to keep the truth of it at bay. You wanted to tell him how you felt but you didn’t want him to carry more burdens with him when he left. You promised him that Ada, Finn, and John’s kids wouldn't starve and he’d kissed your cheek and promised he’d come back for you. Those words haunted your every moment.

To avoid your father and the emptiness of missing Tommy you threw yourself into your job as a mid-wife. At the end of the day you would sneak food out of your pantry and bring it over to Polly. She ran a tight ship void of all the things you had enjoyed about her when you were a kid. She was hard on the kids and they were mostly Ada’s responsibility as Polly shouldered the betting shop. There was a balance, most of your money went to the household and Polly was always grateful for your help. Things were fine until they weren't. Young boys who weren't quite yet fighting age had started up gangs and more drugs and conflict swept through the streets of Birmingham. You ended up working while also causing lots of trouble. 

The worst night of it came just before Tommy had come home. You’d killed another stupid idiot pushing his wrapped body into the cut in the middle of the night. It was exhausting, for every life you brought into the world you ended another. A cycle you didn't think you would ever end up in. You knelt by the side of the river letting the rain soak through your clothes. Looking down into the black water you could feel the same pull that took Mrs. Shelby. It was calling out to you softly but you shook your head. You had a lot more fight still left in you. 

______________Tommy’s POV 

Coming home wasn't the relief he thought it would be all those years ago. He came home and you hugged him tightly. While you looked like you were bursting with life he felt like like he was dead on the inside. Your cheeks were flushed and your eyes bright. Your fingernails had a pink tinge to them. He’d hoped it was from your job as a midwife but he knew how bad things had gotten here. He could feel it in the way people looked at you on their walk home from the train station. Settling in was awful. The nightmares that kept him up at night, the sad sense of rejection that was growing around you. But the weight of the business is what was crushing him. He needed you and Polly out of it, he needed to step up as a man should. You especially should have never had to get your hands as dirty as they were. But there you were all those names etched into your soul, and you still looked at him with girlish adoration, as if he wasn't the man who had commended your life. 

Things between him and Polly had never been worse, any move he made she would disagree. You still kept looking at him with your big eyes full of emotions he didn't know how to feel anymore. 

Ada was a few years younger than you but you were both old enough now that it wasn't noticeable. He saw the both of you sitting on the front step watching some men moving furniture out of the house down the street. There were glasses of wine between you and the sun made the flush of your cheeks look so red. Ada mumbled something and waved to Isiah as he passed by and both of you burst into giggles. That’s when he realized if he didn't make good on his promise, you wouldn't be around. Men looked at you with fear, but they also acknowledged the fierce competence and loyalty you have. By the time he got the business up, and then got it legal, you would probably be married off. He hated the sense of panic he felt bubble up in his stomach. Just once he would like to feel something pleasant. 

All day he thought about what to do. They were drinking beer around the table. He was always happy listening to John and Arthur tell jokes. It made him happy that they had managed to keep more of themselves alive than he had himself. 

“Going to head out for the night. I’m on call tomorrow so I can only help around the house.” You looked at Polly who nodded. Your eyes flashed to him for a second before wrapping your wool shawl around your shoulders. 

“I’ll walk you home.” He could feel John and Arthur’s eyes narrow in on him as the silence rolled through the room. 

“You haven't forgotten I only live next door have you?” You smiled at him and gestured for him to come along. He followed you down the stairs and out the front door. Three steps to your front door and you turned to look at him.

“Well, this is me.” You pointed at the door giving him a smile. “I’d invite you in for a drink but my father wouldn't approve.” 

“Walk with me?” He asked and he wished there was more emotion in his tone. You raised your eyebrows and he almost wanted to laugh. 

“A private meeting with Mr.Shelby. Wow.” You linked your arm in his and he could tell that there was hurt under your humor. 

“Things-” His voice trailed off as he lost all the things he had thought about telling you. He wanted to tell you to marry him but that was much to forward you deserved something nice and for it to move at your own pace. 

“Are different” You finished. “You're not you, Polly is pulling her hair out, and your secret-keeping is making it impossible to help with the business.” 

“Precisely.” He said in a cold tone. He wanted to explain but the words were still gone. 

“Well, fix it then.” You said in a short tone. “You came home and made a mess of things, so fix it.” 

“It’s not that easy.” He pulled a cigarette out and offered you one. You nodded and he lit one, taking a drag then watched as you took it from him. Your lips perched where his had been a moment before. His eyes focused on your mouth and he could feel the tension become obvious. 

“I want to make things right between us. I’m just not sure how.” He said the words slowly finally dragging his gaze from your mouth. Your cheeks had flushed again and he fought the urge to stroke your cheek. 

“Thomas. All you have to do is trust me. Then talk to me. We spent our whole lives that way. Only four years were apart.” There was pleading your eyes and he wondered if he would ever be able to deny you anything. 

“Alright. I want to shoulder most of the business.” You sighed and he continued on. “Not because you and Polly aren't competent, but because things are even higher risk than they have been. I want to shoulder the consequences. To do that I need to keep you out of it.” 

“I don’t want you to face things alone. Not the risk or the consequences.” It was his turn to let out a sigh. 

“I know you don't, that’s why I -” He what? Was in love with you, wanted to marry you? Wanted to build you a life that would make any other woman on the planet die of a jealous heart? 

“You what?” They were by the cut now and you turned to look at him. You were angry and you had every right to be. 

“I want to marry you.” He blurted the words out and ran a hand through his hair. Your hands flew to your mouth and you looked at him with wide eyes illuminated by the moonlight. Was this positive or negative? The regret and embarrassment started to creep up his neck when you lunged at him. 

He stumbled slightly before properly handling your weight. Your arms were tight around his neck and all he could smell was the perfume along your neck. He took a deep breath, the first real breath he had taken since leaving France. He wanted the weight of you pressed up against him all the time. The feeling you brought him was enough to keep the demons at bay. How selfish was it of him to take this easy path out. He should have worked out a proposal and should have courted you properly. 

“We don’t - we could -” He tried to figure out what he wanted to ask. 

“Shut up and let me have my moment.” You said before pulling away enough to kiss him. It was soft and slow and he knew without a doubt he was yours forever. 

After a good amount of kissing, he smiled at you and meant it. He walked you home and then took his beating from Arthur and John. 

“I don’t care if God himself descended from the sky to claim her. She’s my sister and you won’t hurt her Tommy.” Tommy couldn't remember the last time he heard his brother’s voice sound so lethal. 

“You’ll be held to the same standards as any other dumbass wanting to date her,” John added. 

“Trying to do the opposite of hurt her.” He said wanted them to see he was trying to make you happy too. 

“That’s what they all say,” Arthur said with pointed eyes before bursting out into a booming laugh. “I want this to happen, brother I do. Just don’t mess around with her.” Arthur gave him a rough pat on the back and John started to make jokes about all the ways Tommy could disappoint you. 

Eventually, they let him go up to his room. You had already climbed across the ledge to his window and gotten into his bed.

“Took you long enough.” You said it as a joke but there was something in your voice that gave you away. You were starting to think he wasn't going to show up. 

“Boys had to rough me up a bit first.” Tommy shrugged his jacket off. 

“Why? what did you do?” Her eyes looked him over with concern. 

“Showed an interest in you. They had to do the usual.” He said absently changing into his pj’s trying to seem unbothered by your gaze watching him closely as he undressed. 

“What’s the usual?” You whispered.

“Bit of a beating, the usual threats. Part of dating someones sister.” 

“You mean any guy that’s wanted to date me has been roughed up by the three of you?!” 

“Yeah.” Tommy leaned against the wall looking at you laying in his bed in your night clothes. Head propped up on your arm. 

“I thought I was ugly.” You whispered still in shock over this news.

“What?!” Tommy laughed again. 

“None of the boys ever asked me out over the years. I thought I was ugly.” Tommy moved across the room and into the bed to assure you that you were never ugly.  

_____________________________

It took a lot of time to get out of that house on Watery Lane. Your father had passed before your wedding and Arthur walked you down the aisle. Ada and Poly felt all was right in the universe once you joined the family properly. They had a lot of fun planning the whole thing out. Your honeymoon was in the new house, a massive thing that Tommy had built for you.  It was large but warm.

[weirdly-specific-but-ok]

the crowleying of your mascot's hair.

Good morning maggots, as I write this it is 11:53 pm on the uh, asmi10kpocalypse/10khaos (both stunning names, whichever of you came up with them please walk on stage and take a goddamn bow) and I have awoken from deep slumber.

The Good News: My hair is dyed! The Bad News: It was torture that I nearly fainted from!

Okay well uh, we know what I'm best at, and it's summaries of chaos. So without further ado (much ado about nothing ahahah everything is a 10k reference now), here we go:

It starts, as it will end, in my room in front of the laptop screen.

Now, as you know, I said I would dye my hair after I scarfed down my lunch. I do that and I also take a nap because fuck yeah, sleep.

I check tumblr one last time, grab my phone without charging it, tell my mum I'm dyeing my hair, and begin the walk to the salon.

On my phone is Arthur, @howmanyholesinswisscheese, who as a cishet deadbeat dad of a lot of us, is the worst person to ask for hair advice, but I do it anyway. I need a reference photo for a haircut.

Arthur helpfully scours the internet and comes up with options that include: Gay, hot history teacher, Joe Locke but something's off about it, same as above but different slightly and I can't place it, top 20 haircuts for crazy people, top 100 teen boy haircuts for teens, mullet slash hot history teacher, Hozier, why does the teen boy have a beard, Aussie AFL player, and Chris Hemsworth.

His words, not mine. Does anyone want to check in on Arthur's history teacher because I am getting very concerned for that man.

So I pick a haircut and land up at the salon. Arthur also tells me my hair is wild and I have needed a haircut for too long. Thanks dad.

The hairdressers are not pleased when I point to the red shade and tell them to bleach and dye my entire hair.

They inform me it will look like shit.

They keep asking if I'm sure. I say, with increasing annoyance, that yes I am.

Arthur is in the phone enabling me, yelling that I need to do it for crowley and "THEY DON'T GET TO TELL YOU WHAT TO DO"

The hairdressers then say they're out of red hair dye, I can either do a magenta or come back the next day.

Arthur tells me to leave and go to another salon.

So I do, and I wind up at the salon right next door (Arthur and I cheer for capitalism), an extremely seedy looking place with a poorly painted stairwell that could well be haunted.

I tell the hairdressers there what I want, and they also argue with me about how it will fade, look like shit, etc etc.

Arthur says "THEY DON'T KNOW WHAT THEY'RE TALKING ABOUT, THEY'RE JUST HAIRDRESSERS"

He tells me that if Crowley can keep the Bentley together through hellfire through sheer will, I can do the same for my hair.

Finally, they huddle in front of a laptop, muttering, and agree to take me on.

I am then also hair-shamed by the stylist, who tells me in no uncertain terms that if I don't cut my hair as soon as it grows out even slightly, it looks "kharab", which is Hindi for... 'substandard, inferior, bad, shoddy, deficient'. Thanks, mate.

The haircut is done. What follows then is on of the top five most excruciatingly painful experiences of my life.

No, I'm serious. The bleaching and dyeing. It was. Fuck.

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

JUST THE MEMORY HURTS

OKAY NEXT PART OF THE SAGA I WILL REBLOG THIS IT IS GETTING TOO LONG

IF YOU WANT THE HAIR REVEAL THEN YOU WILL HAVE TO SIT THROUGH THIS LIKE I DID, I'M AFRAID

[wildflowerluver]

beautiful sound

derek morgan x fem!reader

derek doubts your ability on the team. his words hurt more than normal.

cw: case mentions, slight enemies to lovers, derek is kinda an asshole, quiet!reader, reader knows sign language, first kiss, she/her pronouns, bau reader, objectification of women, hotch defender

wc: 2.6k

༺♡༻

you’re quiet, you always have been. 

growing up, you sat on your hands, often not making a sound. 

it became routine, a habit. speaking became a bother. 

you learned to sign from an early age. although most didn’t know the language, it was comforting to have a second form of communication. 

when drafted into the bau, your quietness was never a problem; marked on your file actually. it proved to be an asset at times. you see people differently and when a case involves someone who struggles communicating, your skill set helps out.  

the team is sent for a case in san jose. 

you hate referring to it as standard but that's what it was, four women murdered with the same m.o.

once boarding the plane, you slide into a window seat in the group of four. derek clambers in after you. when hotch assigns you and spencer to victimology and the geographical profile, he bumps your arm. 

“was hoping i would get victimology with you for once instead of pretty boy.”

you blush. the comment is flirty enough to speed up your heart rate.

as much as you want to work with derek, you like working with spencer. the two of you work well together and he knows how to sign. makes it a lot easier than writing information down to convey to the others. 

though the case is standard, it takes three days to get a lead.

no one takes a break. between another body being found in that time and a restless community, there isn’t time. victimology is tough too. the women are all different, no jobs, friends, or hobbies to connect them.

to combat the long hours, derek brings you and spencer coffee, his warm and yours iced. spencer grumbles about having to add cream and sugar to it but yours is perfect, your exact order. it’s a small gesture but it sends your heart fluttering. but, you know not to overthink it. if anyone asked, you could recite the team's coffee orders off the top of your head; except for hotch who, in secret, prefers matcha.

you choose to stay at the precinct when garcia gives off the name and address of the suspect; arthur miller. raids aren't your strong suit. each member of the team looks at you as they leave to which you nod. a silent be safe.

miller fights the entire way to the interrogation room. derek’s grip on his arms are strong but even he struggles a bit with the thrashing. you don’t blame miller. as of right now, he’s innocent. if you were brought in, you would be kicking too.

once the team regroups, the objective is clear; get a confession or frankly, anything that’ll help the case.

“y/n, get ready. you’re interviewing.”

hotch’s orders are stern. 

derek scoffed. “hotch, come on man. we have a missing woman and he is the only suspect we have. you want to send her? she never talks.”

your head drops. it’s not an unusual reaction but his words sting; you’re used to side comments from police officers or families from cases, not a close friend. 

“morgan,” hotch warns.

“no no. we have five dead women and who knows if there are any others. and you want to send in the girl who can barely even operate verbally on this team. are you not seeing how she could screw this up?”

it’s silent.

your heart splits out of pure betrayal and dejection. you weren’t exactly open with the team about why you’re so quiet, but you didn’t think anyone on the team thought of you this way, let alone derek.

hotch turns to you with a nod. permission to proceed. you stand up with your head bowed.

you like derek, more than you probably should. it's childish, delusional, to think he would ever like you back. but his words don’t just sting, they burn. barely even operate, screw this up. you bite your lip in an attempt to try to not to let it show how this is impacting you.

derek shakes his head and turns around, mumbling something about it being the wrong decision. you have no choice but to ignore it, grabbing your cosmetics bag and heading into the precinct bathroom to get ready. 

eyes fall to you as you stepped out of the bathroom. this is the biggest interview of your career yet, and you needed to dress the part. 

you kept your dress pants on, though you shed your top layer besides a tank top, pulling it down just enough to be considered scandalous. with makeup and hair dolled up, you grabbed the file from hotch and stopped.

“are you ready for this?” his questioned stems from protectiveness. 

you nod. “i am.”

with the case file in hand, you head towards the interrogation room. you look nervous, like you don’t know if there's a hungry lion or bouquet of flowers on the other side.

but the second the door clicked shut, your demeanor changed. 

“well hello pretty lady,” arthur greets almost immediately. 

to the teams surprise, you giggle. “pretty?”

“very.”

a smile remains on your face as you sit down, case file placed on the table. 

“now i have to ask, what’s a pretty lady like you doing with the fbi?” he muses. 

you shrug, hand moving up to twirl a strand of hair. “i dunno,” you start. your tone is sweet, almost sickeningly. “my daddy wanted me to make something of myself. thought crime might be fun. i was actually excited to be asked to talk to you.”

this catches arthur’s attention. 

“you interested in murder, little lady?”

you nod, pulling in your bottom lip as you lean forward. his eyes fall to your chest. it’s gross and subjective but expected. 

“i asked my boss to let me talk to you,” you reveal. “i couldn’t help it. they all left for the day so i’m working off the clock for this.”

“off the clock?” arthur clicked his tongue twice. “eager girl.”

“yup,” you beam, popping the last letter. “i asked if i could film it but they said no. have to pay to record after hours i think.”

“i guess i’ll just have to make this moment last.”

you met his eyes, though not for too long to keep up your act. 

“tell me about this?” you beg after opening the file, a pout passing your lips. “it’s so cool.” 

arthur grins and at that moment, you know you have him right where you need him. 

“well,” he starts, using two fingers to slide one of the pictures out. “that was lacy walker. ooh ooh ooh, she was sweet. screamed too. all the best ones scream.”

“these are all of your kills?” you hope your astonishment sounds genuine.

arthur grins. “only the public ones.”

only the public ones. 

there’s more. 

there’s more killings no one even knows about.

your head is spinning. you don’t even want to think about the reaction of the others behind the one-way glass. while you wanted to coerce more information out of him about it, you knew you would be pushing your luck.

instead, you roll your eyes and scoff. facade aside, you can’t help it. 

“you know i thought criminals like you were smart.”

arthur freezes. “what?”

“i mean come on. are you really dumb enough to think that all of this isn’t being recorded?” the question hangs in the air. “because you just confessed to a hell of a lot of murders.”

he jumps up, realizing what he’s done. at the same time, you do too, slamming your hands on your desk. you stand taller, height not restricted by handcuffs connected to the table. 

“that’s honestly just embarrassing,” you titter.

arthur yells the entire time it takes you to gather the file and walk ouit of the room, but it doesn’t impact you. you got a confession and you got it quick. someone else can deal with interrogating him on his other victims. 

you don’t stop to talk to the team, though their faces show a range of emotions: proud, impressed, and a slight bit of panic, no doubt from the information you got out of arthur. after grabbing your cosmetics bag, you head to the bathroom. all of the team, besides one, has turned away at this point. you don’t even have to guess as to who keeps their gaze on you.

hotch sends everyone to the hotel to get some rest. interrogations on arthur’s other murders would wait until the following day. 

no one was going to argue with that.

derek made his way to your hotel room that night. he mind was swirling with what he said to you earlier and especially after a not-so-nice talking to from emily, he needed to apologize. 

you heard the knock on your door after you slipped a t-shirt on post shower. it was late and you were sure most of the team was asleep. 

after checking the peephole, you hook a deep breath and opened the door. 

“y/n,” derek greets. 

it’s weird for him to be here, especially at this hour and especially after what went down earlier in the day. 

“can i come in?”

you nod, opening the door a little wider for him to step in. 

your eyes look at him quizzingly and derek swears he melts. if his guilt hadn’t reached the surface, it did now. eyes were always a weakness. when you didn’t talk, your eyes showed how you were feeling and right now, they’re filled with sadness. 

“i wanted to apologize for what i said today,” he starts. “it was out of line. i shouldn’t have questioned your ability. I'm sorry.”

short and simple. 

you stay quiet. 

as much as you want to forgive him, tell him “it’s okay,” a simple ‘i’m sorry’ doesn’t fix things.

derek continues. “you deserve to be on this team, i shouldn’t have questioned that. i’m sorry, i really am. i like you,” you swear your heart stops. “i like working with you. i just hope you understand where i was coming from.”

that last part erases all prior apologies. seconds ago you would have placed money that there was an underlying confession in there. you would have gone to bed blushing and giggling over the possibility of requited feelings. how could you have understood where he was coming from? 

your eyes narrowed, lips pressing into a thin line. 

you rack your mind for something to say. you need him to know how he hurt you, but yelling isn’t something you do, especially at someone like derek.

the silence becomes unbearable even for him.

“god for once in your life can you please say something?” derek looks to the ceiling. “i’m trying to do the right thing here.”

each word stings more than the last. 

he didn’t want to apologize for the things he said, but rather he felt like he had to. 

“goodnight derek,” you whisper. anger bubbles but you don’t - can’t - lash out. 

derek looks to you defeated. you know that’s not the response he was expecting. 

the door closing after him rings in his ears even as he falls asleep. 

____

hotch and rossi lead the interrogations the next day. 

they’re the opposite of what you gave arthur. they’re strict and stern and get the information they need by early evening. 

but it’s too late to fly home to washington. 

when he makes the announcement that you would be staying in san jose until the following morning, spencer is nodding off on your shoulder and j.j. is slumped in a chair in the corner. everyone needs sleep.

you trudge into your hotel room, following the same routine as the prior night. a shower feels wonderful on your tired body. 

ignoring derek isn’t ideal, but it’s necessary. it’s painful and hurts more every time you remember how much you like him. when spencer goes quiet, derek seems to understand, never pushing him to speak when he doesn’t want to. but for you, it’s different. why is it different?

that question racks your brain as you get dressed.

before you can crawl in bed, there’s another knock. this time you don’t even have to guess who it is.

“we need to talk,” derek pushes out. 

everything inside of you is telling you not to open the door further, not to let him in. He didn’t even greet you this time. but you do, derek walking inside, though not moving past the space after the door. 

“i know i apologized last night,” he cringes at his words. “well, attempted to apologize. i don’t have any excuses, really. the things about liking you and working with you, those we’re all true, i promise. i let my emotions get the best of me and i took it out on you. i know it doesn’t justify any of this but i wanted to apologize again.”

his apology is nice, it feels genuine but the question from earlier is eating you up and you can’t have it unanswered.

“why do you treat me differently than spencer?”

derek furrows his brow. “different?”

“every time he doesn’t talk, you don’t seem bothered. but when it’s me, it’s like my silence is the greatest inconvenience in the world to you.”

“oh.”

you suddenly feel small, like every instance you’ve picked up on never even happened.

it’s easier to drop your head, tap your fingers consistently on your palm and go quiet. always go quiet.

but derek doesn’t let you. his finger hooks under your chin to pull your face up to his.

“hey hey, don’t hide from me now.” 

“i’m sorry,” you squeak.

“no need to apologize.”

his gaze is intimidating. you feel like he’s profiling you, the rule the team put in place seemingly not existing. 

“i treat you differently because you’re you. i promise it’s not a bother, i just really really like your voice.”

your mouth parts. you don’t miss the flicker of derek’s eyes down to them. you know your expression is probably embarrassing right now, how in love you look. but you’re past embarrassment and you take your chances.

your kiss is soft and gentle, short and sweet. 

derek isn’t expecting it. he thought you would’ve been a lot more upset, not using his mistakes as a reveal of your feelings. but in no matter does he mind. if he’s being honest, he’s waited for this moment for a while. 

you pull away first, mouth opening to utter an apology but derek beats you to it, meeting your lips in a bruising kiss. 

neither of you know if this would be your only kiss and it’s clear in the way he holds you.

you don’t part the entire way derek nudges you towards the bed. you fall first, him crawling on top. you pull back first. your breaths are heavy and your eyes never leave derek’s.

it’s expected that he would say something first, though you weren’t sure what he would say. are your feelings really the same? are you even allowed to date within the team?

but derek doesn’t verbalize any of that. his thumb moves to the space between your eyebrows, rubbing just slightly back and forth to ease the crinkle you developed from your overthinking. oh. 

you know he still feels bad about his earlier words. but he kisses the tip of your nose before ducking down to your jawline, trailing kisses there. 

“i’m sorry, i’m sorry, i’m sorry,” each apology is met with a kiss to your neck, almost as if he’s pressing his words into your skin. 

and to his surprise, you giggle. 

“stop apologizing.”

derek pulls back, eyes meeting yours. 

your cheeks are rosy, lips plump from kissing. one hand rests on the spot beside your head, using it to hold himself up. derek’s other hand, previously on your hip, moves to cup your cheek.

“i think that might just be the most beautiful sound i’ve ever heard.”

and with that, his lips meet yours again.

[yveaart]

"you know other girls"-hhu was so cuteee💗💗

can i request the same for vocal unit?<3

“you know other girls?” — w seventeen vu !

🍒woozi

seriously stop playing with him

he was ranting about a bad experience while he was going to get coffee outside his studio for once.

“and then i bumped into her spilling coffee through some of her documents, i had to compensate for it”

“what?!”

“what do you mean what?” he said

“you know other women?” you sneered trying to keep giggles in

“women are literally more than half of the worlds population.” he deadpanned at you

you just told him to finish his story tbh

🍒jeonghan

unpredictable man

there was this choreographer who kept on touching jeonghan’s shoulder every time she came by

she conversed with him freely and giving him wide smiles

you would throw blank stares at her and even a few coughs when she came by to return during the break time

“how can you know other women?” you glared at him, jealousy raging over your chest

“hm?” he said innocently (not rlly)

“that was my cousin” he smiled wider, he let you fall onto his trap knowing you were some possessive woman.

“cat got your tongue? maybe you could tie me up so i won’t have to know anyone else” he said with a sly smirk displaying on his lips

you couldn’t ever pull this shit anymore because he will turn the tables every time.

🍒joshua

in a world of boys he’s a gentlemen

same thing that happened with jeonghan.

an old classmate came by and was being touchy with him, grabbing his biceps or caressing it

it was as if shes getting closer and closer to merge with him

“could you please step back? you’re making me and my girlfriend uncomfy”

that woman fled so fast

“jo-“

“no baby, i don’t know any other significant women other than you and my family” he smiled placing a kiss on your forehead

no more asking anymore.

🍒seungkwan

side eye

CRIMINAL SIDE EYE

like what did u even say

“you know other women?” you said voice steady eyes piercing through

he would laugh HYSTERICALLY. sad to say that h lost ur pride and ur rights to be jealous

“wait you were serious?…” he said wiping his tears off his cheeks

“no..”

“WAIT NO YOU ARE, i have to tell the gc lol”

he would realize it later that u were serious and tell u how he had to work with different idols including women in his work industry

but there’s nothing to worry

BECAUSE HE CHOSE U🫶🏻

🍒seokmin

bad date idea

watching his past performances

arthur. (iykyk)

you were joyous seeing his performance, his singing ability

and him looking a tad bit silly in his medieval costumes

all those smiles drop seeing the ending.

you were not that type of woman, but you decided that it would be fun to tease your boyfriend. ofc you knew it was for work.

“so did it feel good?” you *jokingly* sneered

“not at all, i prefer your kisses” he smiled assuring you

full of assurance, why doubt this cutie? but he said it wrong so don’t take it to heart bc he meant “i only want your kisses”😓

“prefer huh? you know other women?”

“NO BAB-“

yeah he had a grocery bag over his head the whole day as his self torture for “doing you wrong”

would hit into things trying to find your moving figure to apologize and bow to you (you had to give him cuddles telling him you were joking.

[lavender-romancer]

Deceiver

Part Seven Tommy Shelby x Reader CW: slow burn, arguing

You've been involved with the Peaky Blinders business for a few years now, undiscovered as a woman posing as a man. Now the Shelby boys have grown suspicious of you and want you found out.

an: set in season one

”*°•.˜”*°•. ˜”*°•. ˜”*°••°*”˜.•°*”˜.•°*”˜.•°*”˜

previous part

As you stirred awake you looked up, there were a considerable amount of cobwebs on the support beam running through the center of your room. Their delicate intricacies were illuminated by a stream of morning sunlight through your curtains. It was so beautiful but your mood this morning just made you want to dust it all away. Today was Cheltenham.

One comfort of this awful day was that you could take some aggression out on some Lee boys, whilst Tommy would be prancing around with Grace doing fuck knows what. No, you had to try and control your anger on the subject. It wasn't worth all your thoughts and anyways you had to meet Arthur, John and Johnny.

"Eddie," Arthur yelled, getting your attention in the dockyard, "What's our mission?"

"To fucking stick it to the Lee boys!" You announced with a smirk towards John.

"That's right. The Lees are skimming money off legal bookies. Running chalk, selling rafflers, beating up bookies. But today, we're going to stop them." Arthur raised his stick, "Anyone with a gun, we won't be using it unless it's pulled on you. Take what you have, whatever it is. Let's fuck up the Lee boys, lads!"

You all loaded into a van, with you, Arthur and John in the front. It was 60 miles to Cheltenham and no matter how much you talked to the boys, all you could think about was Tommy and Grace in a car together. No matter how much Arthur hammered the point of this being 'Tommys Army' you struggled to get excited when you knew you wanted to be the pretty blonde girl dancing with him in a nice new outfit. Not that you'd want to wear a dress but-fuck- you were so insanely jealous of the barmaid you didn't know what to do with yourself.

Even when Tommy reassured you that there was nothing between him and Grace, all you could see was them kissing in the light of the bar when you opened the room to the booth. How did you get here? Obsessed with a man who couldn't or wouldn't commit to you, you were more likely to grow old with Thomas as his friend or mistress.

Looking out of the window the shouting coming from the boys faded into white noise. Closing your eyes you saw Tommy's smile. You didn't want to be his friend, you didn't want to wait forever but you knew he should be with her because you couldn't compete. It wasn't as if you could blame Grace for it all anymore, she was a convenient scapegoat but not one that made sense. There was something between Tommy and Grace that he wouldn't admit to you, and you couldn't blame him. It wasn't anything new, you often had to separate your life and the possibility of love.

Love doesn't last the way respect and job security do, it can be fickle and easily betrayed which were eventualities you couldn't afford. You were used to being alone, but you weren't used to being as vulnerable as you would be if you ever lived your life as a woman.

Tommy was dancing with Grace, their bodies close and moving in time with one another. He did keep looking over at Kimber's table but couldn't help but feel Grace's body against his. She was an easy choice, a safe one. There were no complications he knew of, she was beautiful and wanted him. But you. He dreamt of you. He had to stop himself from seeing you every single night. There was such an undeniable magnetism between the two of you that Tommy struggled to justify considering choosing Grace over you. There were complications but who gave a fuck about that?

He dipped Grace in the choreography of the lively dance and she smiled, it was so ridiculously beautiful. Tommy couldn't help but smile slightly back, pulling her back up. She laughed softly and Tommy bowed his head so he wouldn't laugh in return. There was a part of him that wanted to kiss her, wanted to fuck her and move on from there. He craved immediate gratification and Tommy couldn't seem to let you give that to him. The lust feeling was intoxicating, being able to look you up and down but knowing he wouldn't take it any further. Even when he was drunk he only kissed your hand, it was pathetic. But Tommy wanted you to understand how deeply he cared for you, that he didn't want to just fuck you and leave it at that. But Tommy failed to explain this to you and it led to a horrific case of crossed wires.

You'd got the stolen money off all Lees boys by this point chased them off the track and down to Devon road, they were long gone, some by persuasion, most by force…. But realistically it came with the territory of a blinder, cut off an ear here, punch someone in the face there. It would be on the job description.

"We need to get this all back to Tommy." Arthur said, holding the 7 napsacks over his shoulder as you, him and John stood under a stairwell and smoked.

"I'll take it." You said all too quickly and the brothers snickered.

"Someone wants to see his man." John smirked and you rolled your eyes.

"Don't get too jealous of Grace." Arthur couldn't stifle his laughter as he handed the napsack to you, the two of them keeling over laughing with jokes about you and Tommy. You just snatched the bags and walked up the stairwell to the agreed meeting point.

Seeing Tommy poke his head around the door and smile at you sent a warm feeling around your whole body. It only seemed to dissipate when you saw Grace, you dropped the bags at his feet and glanced at her before going back to Tommy.

"Any problems?" Tommy asked, looking you up and down without letting Grace see.

"None. We got it all back and ran the Lee boys off the tracks. A few cuts and bruises but nothing major." You smiled at him and the two of you took a moment, just looking at one another lovingly before snapping out of it.

"Get Arthur to buy all the boys a pint, I'll see you later." He gave you a smirk before you shut the door.

Standing on the other side of the door, you almost jumped up and down from the way he looked at you. The man looked like he wanted to rip everything off you and take you right then and there. It was impossible to forget, even when you were sitting back in the Garrison a few hours later. Every so often you'd take a sip of your beer, but mostly you stared into space and thought of his eyes.

"Now, should I guess who you're daydreaming about or just come out and say it?" John laughed and sat next to you at the bar.

"You can keep your mouth shut," you smiled, "What do you think of Grace?" You asked after a pause.

"Great set of legs." John raised an eyebrow.

"No, idiot. I mean, she doesn't seem suspicious to you, comes out of nowhere trying to help with the business and now she's working for us all because she's a liar? Seems odd." You shrugged.

"Think you're just being paranoid and a little bit jealous. Personally I don't think she really does much, has no excitement in her life, this gives her some shit to do." John took a drink of his pint and lit a cigarette.

"When she is finally found out for being a deceiver, we'll only have men and their cocks to thank." You said, exasperated with John. How he could immediately assume you were jealous without a second thought. "If you didn't know I was a woman would you still question me like this or just take it at face value?" You said close to his ear before walking out of the door.

You were sick of the teasing, you had tried to tell yourself that they didn't treat you differently but it wasn't true. They just saw you as some sort of scorned woman, who wasn't capable of thinking straight. You weren't being jealous. Were you? No, she was suspicious and it didn't make sense that she came out of nowhere. Walking in the chill of night your chest heaved, what could she and Tommy possibly be doing? Was it all fooling him as well? Your brain felt so foggy it was impossible to think straight, all you wanted was to get home.

Tommy was sitting on the doorstep in front of your house and in the moment you just wanted to run up and kiss him. His face was so beautifully lit by the moonlight, with a slight smile on his lips he looked so pretty. But, instead you walked past him and unlocked your front door, leaving it ajar for him. You walked straight up to your room to unbind your chest, it had been an extremely long day.

After changing into a looser fitting men shirt you went back downstairs and found Tommy with two glasses of whisky in hand sitting on the settee. You gratefully sat down next to him and took the glass, whilst the whisky you owned was a shocking quality it still took the edge off more than a pint.

"How did today go?" He asked you.

"We got all the money, if that's what you mean." You directed a polite slightly unfeeling smile in his direction, our head felt like it was going to burst open with anger because of how John had spoken to you. "How was Grace?"

"She did her job. Looked pretty and danced with Kimber." Was all that he said, you couldn't help but assume ther was more he could say about her but didn't. You just sat holding the glass in your lap and looking down at the liquid through the crystal shapes in the glass. It was so distorted that staring at it this closely was giving you a headache. You placed the glass back on the table in front of you with a slight clink and returned to your position. Hands in your lap, looking down at them in silence because you didn't know what to say. Didn't know the right thing to say without coming off as jealous. Because regardless of what the Shelby boys said about your apparent jealousy, Tommy's connection with Grace just made you sad. You wanted the day out at the races, the hurried sexual favours in a side room, the openness in society.

At this point whilst you considered growing your hair out and stopping binding your chest, what would be the point if the person you were doing it for couldn't commit? He claimed that he would die for you but he was happy to kiss Grace, happy to fade into a silhouette of nothing as she stifled his light. He wouldn't commit to you whilst he still wanted to get his dick wet and not give you the time to be in society as a woman at your own pace. The silence was pounding in your ears, consuming your body in a cold blanket of insecurity. You could only think about how he could be normal with Grace, live a normal life. It would be boring and he might not be happy but it would be normal.

"Y/n?" Tommy said softly and you nodded in acknowledgement. "What's going on?" He asked in a confused tone.

"I just… I don't know why you're wasting your time with me. Maybe wasting is the wrong word, but you only have so long in this life and I don't know if we can give eachother what the other needs." Your eyes were hurting with the amount you were straining them so you didn't cry.

"Do you want me?” He said, making it sound so simple and you brought your eyes up to his- so much emotion and hurt was shown with this one look that Tommy felt taken aback, had he hurt you? "If you want me, then we give each other what the other needs."

"I don't want to be someone you can't commit to." You said quietly, looking back at your hands in your lap. "You're going to forget about me and marry someone without all the complications. Someone like Grace is perfect for you."

"I've told you before that Grace is not your concern." Was all he said and you couldn't help but scoff.

"Alright Tommy. You can stay to finish the bottle if you really want to, but I don't know if there's anything else for us to talk about now." You stood up and looked at him with tearful eyes. Why couldn't he understand how you felt about him, why couldn't he understand how deeply you cared for him?

"Y/n," he said in a soft tone and you bit the inside of your cheek to stop the tears from flowing.

"What else is there to say?" You asked quietly.

"Nothing happened." He paused. "Between me and Grace, since that night when you saw…" you got a horrific flashback of seeing Grace and Tommy kissing.

"But you still don't want to commit to me do you." It wasn't even really a question, more of a statement.

"Why do you assume that?" He placed his glass on the table in front of him next to yours, they were closer than the two of you felt right now.

"Because of how you act, Thomas and because I know you. You don't want a complicated personal life when your business life's complicated enough." You held your forearm with your other hand, feeling insecure in front of a Tommy that seemed more vulnerable.

"You've never asked me to commit to you, not in those words anyways." Tommy stood up and took a step towards you, your eyes were fixed on a point on the floor where the wood was cracked and splintering. "I've wanted you for years now. Ever since I met you it's been the same, there's always been something."

“If I finally live as myself I lose all independence, if you leave me after I live as a woman I won't have any agency! You don't understand how much anxiety that creates for this whole situation, it's not just about fucking feelings.” You paused and ran a hand down your face, tears forming in your eyes, “It's about the rights I have over myself, men won't treat me the same, I'll never be viewed the same by anyone. I'll never be able to walk home alone without being scared, I'll be posing as someone I've never been! I've lived this way for so long it's comfortable, and unless you can prove that you want only me then-”

“Y/n,” Tommy held your shoulders in both of his hands, “you can dress however you want, have the same job, fuck, you can get a better paid one in the company. You'll still be my right hand person regardless of how you live. I've never been able to control you and I don't intend to try and start. There has always been a part of my soul connected to yours, Y/n.” You were still looking at the splintered wood.

“How much room in your soul do you have when you desire two people?” You sounded malicious and honestly it wasn't intentional because most of what Tommy spouted sounded like lip service to get you to be complacent.

“What?” He asked, his hands falling from your shoulders.

“You heard what I said,” you walked past Tommy and sat down on the sofa, pouring yourself another poor quality whiskey. After downing two glasses your throat burned in a satisfying way that distracted you from your head.

“Why do you think I'm here? Practically begging you to give me some time.” He let out a long sigh.

“You feel the same way I feel about you about her. I know that's what is really in your soul. Even though she doesn't love you, she isn't truthful, she's so deceitful but you can't see past your hard cock long enough to realise. You fucking know I'm in love with you, I'm convinced you've known it the whole time. But it's more exciting to string two people along than commit to anyone. You can perpetuate your tortured heart narrative and everyone feels sorry for you, well I don't care anymore. Do whatever you fucking want, fuck her, fuck me. Everything's controlled by you and you love it.” You picked up the bottle of whiskey and started drinking straight from it. Leaving Tommy to stand there not knowing what to do. The two of you existed in a sort of social limbo for a few minutes before Tommy sat down next to you and you offered him the whiskey bottle.

”*°•.˜”*°•. ˜”*°•. ˜”*°••°*”˜.•°*”˜.•°*”˜.•°*”˜

Taglist: @kathrinemelissa @wolfieellsworld @archivallyfound09 @hopefulinlove @globetrotter28 @buttercup32sstuff @teamfreeavacados @just-a-blackhole @sabbbyn @sillyfreakfanparty @lovelyreader22 @leaked-adrenaline @ghxst-heart @bat-luna-cat @emily-roberts @thattransgayscout @cristina-01 @pockeymcmockey @moonshooter @horror-eye @hiatuswhore @missmunscn @slaypussypop-21 @slutforcoffein @lovemisshoneybee @louderfortheback @faye777 @pastthetreesandstars @gimmie-tea Peaky Blinders Taglist: @queenofkings1212 @severewobblerlightdragon @cl5369 @fairypitou @stressedandbandobessed7771 @shadow-of-wonder @hipsternoionlylikeunicorns @curled-hair-red-lips @lucystivinsky1315 @lovemisshoneybee

[pherelesytsia]

Lurking in the Shadows

Pairing: Thomas Shelby x female/pregnant/Reader

Summary: As Halloween draws near, Charlie's mother worries that even Thomas will fear the costume of his son.

Warning: fluff

Word Count: 1.5k

a/n:. Requests are open!!!

The costume, wicked and haunting, forcing to cross the street if gazes met, suited Charlie well. The eyes of a wolf, a hawk circling over fields and cities in search of prey, a lost bunny searching for the hole in the muddy ground pierced the darkness looming beyond the windows.

The grin on Y/N´s lips grew, did not fade away, and not even bloodcurdling news could wipe it away. Gently, her fingers glided over the costume. Nervously, Charlie bit down on his lower lip, crouched and gazed from his mother to the closed door, listening to the voices mingling freely, but he did not understand any of the words echoing throughout the mansion. Y/N kneeled in front of her son. Mumbling, her fingers adjusted the shoes, perfecting the costume.

            "Do you think the others will like my costume? I've seen Karl. He is a ghost. I don't fear ghosts.", "Charlie, you were a ghost last year. We need to get more creative and I have to admit that if I didn't know you, I would hide in fear for my safety. You have the scariest costume I have ever seen in my life." Y/N spoke, fixing his tousled hair, hearing the secret message, the fear lingering in his shaking voice.

The light flickered.

            "Are you going to put on a costume, too? You would be a beautiful princess.", "Thank you, Charlie, but I will stay at home. I will accompany you downstairs and then Arthur, Polly and if I am not mistaken, John will wander from house to house with you and the other children. And I will wait for your return and then you can tell me what creepy creatures you have seen lurking around the streets." Y/N continued.

Gazes met.

            "And what about father? Won't he come with us? He told me he would think about it." Charlie inquired.

The smile faded away. Y/N exhaled and looked apologetically at her son, whose costume she had perfected to the smallest detail. She caressed his cheek, removed the thread from his shoulder and smiled, wordlessly answering the question he had asked.

            "Father promised me," Charlie argued.

            "My sweet little boy, your father fears for my safety and he promised he would wait with me. You can tell us everything then, and we will listen." Y/N breathed and calmed the boy with a mere gesture.

            "I understand, mom. I hoped. Dad promised me he would come with us, with me." Charlie spoke, tried to stay strong, but his voice betrayed him.

Blaming the hormones, Y/N blinked away the tears and smoothed his hair.

            "Please don't be sad. Do not be mad at your father, he wants to protect me and fears I might feel unwell or end up sickly in bed, or faint if nobody is here. Imagine one day, in a few years, you get to accompany your sibling on this spooky day and protect them from ghosts and knights, but enough of that, we should go downstairs. The others are waiting." Y/N said. The smile on his lips dispelled the tears.

            "Next year?", "No, my little boy, but in three or four years." she laughed and squeezed his right hand.

Groaning, Y/N rose from the floor. Hands enveloped hers, helped her, came to her aid. Charlie smiled, clasped her hand graced by a golden ring, and guided her towards the door. His eyes kept sliding back to his mother, watching her every move. The fear disappeared, faded into oblivion and Charlie opened the door, bowed elegantly, a high-born soldier, and followed the endless corridor. The gramophone played a song. With every step they took towards the stairs, the voices grew louder. Peals of laughter mingled with deep voices.

Stairs creaked, and pairs of eyes fell on the couple. Grins grew wider. The voices grew softer. The suit, dark as midnight, fitted him well. His shoes were polished. The hair lay to one side. His face was cold, blank and expressionless, a statue, staring down at the men and women. Eyes, twinkling and gleaming, looked at the boy who had taken his father's place. A pitch-black waistcoat hid the white shirt. Out of the small pocket, Charlie retrieved a silver pocket watch, opened it with a push of a button, and shook his head. A sound escaped his lips.

The siblings had to stifle a laugh, remembering what Y/N had said, her words about finding the most terrifying costume with Charlie, that people would freeze in fear and even the strongest of men, boxers facing the enemy in the ring with risen fists would tremble, and the prophecy was true. But no fear was boiling in the stomach. Curious eyes settled on Thomas staring at his double walking with his wife towards the group.

Charlie's face was strangely stiff, overshadowed by greyness.

            "It's late. We're heading out. We don't have fucking time to waste. And no fucking fighting." spoke the faint yet firm voice.

Y/N hunched forward, trying to walk beside Charlie and not to laugh, amused by the sight of her baffled husband.

            "Was that good? And you didn't give me any cigarettes.", "Perfect, but you don't have to swear like your father and I certainly won't give you any cigarettes.", Y/N whispered, fighting tears.

            "Of course, brother. You had a drink, right? I'd better drive, kids ride with us after all. Your wife looks particularly beautiful these days. The pregnancy suits her well and I am convinced it will be a girl." Arthur spoke in a firm voice, trying to sound as stern as possible.

With his right hand, he gestured the children to follow him.

            "What should I say?" asked a weak voice.

            "Nothing. Your father is not a man of many words. Nod and go, as we discussed." Y/N replied.

She eased away from the young one, nudging him forward and the boy understood and strolled with larger strides towards his father.

            "Good evening, Mister Shelby," he spoke.

Thomas shook his head, stared down at the carbon copy. Nothing escaped his gaze, found a difference, the golden ring, the sign of eternal loyalty and love was missing.

            "Good evening, Mr Shelby. I have heard a lot about you and we should form an alliance. I have contacts that might be useful to you. And I must say your wife is a breath-taking woman.", "Of course, Mister Shelby, but I must go now, my colleagues, my brothers are waiting. I look forward to hearing from you." Charlie spoke sternly, cold as possible.

            "Goodbye, Mr Shelby. During your absence, I will keep your wife company." Thomas replied.

He said goodbye to his son, following the others out of the mansion. Shaking his head, Thomas looked after Charlie. His eyes sparkled, not understanding what had happened. The stiff wind did not howl through the corridors of the house. Footsteps echoed again and with slow steps Y/N walked towards her grinning husband, listening to raucous laughter piercing the calmness of the night. Hands settled on his body, brushed the weight off his shoulders with an affectionate gesture, and lowered her head onto his back. Bright lights illuminated the nightfall and the blueish automobile drove off and faded beyond hills and rising mist.

            "That was the surprise you couldn't tell me, the secret between you and Charlie?" Thomas inquired, turning away from the window.

Silence returned. In reassuring gestures, Y/N stroked the bulge, no fabric nor coat could hide and nodded.

            "Exactly. Charlie wanted an unusual costume. Every kid dresses up as a ghost or a knight. Girls are witches and princesses and, according to some people, there's nothing creepier, scarier than Thomas Shelby. Do you like it? I had to cut his hair today, too." Y/N chuckled.

Lowering his hands on her waist, Thomas turned his wife in his arms and lowered his head onto hers.

            "It's the worst, goosebump-inducing costume I've seen in my life and the sight of the man will haunt me in my worst dreams. I need a psychologist," he joked. "And soon I will see him again. He wants to meet me, talk about business. I am dreading the encounter." Thomas continued.

Y/N looked up. The light was touching his face. The eyes sparkled. Gently, his fingers slid down her lower back. He wanted to be closer to the love of his life, but the belly made it difficult. His lips were clamped shut. The corners had turned white. Grinning, he gazed upon his wife, couldn't hold the walls of protection up. Stone crumbled. Thomas laughed, chuckled in delight, couldn't comprehend it, laughed and grinned and Y/N was persuaded she had never heard these delicate sounds, this melody touching her heart, in her life.

[theprinceofliones]

He knows something's wrong when his son doesn't come home.

Meliodas can feel it in his bones, tingling underneath his skin as his demon blood hums with his unfiltered anxiety. He itches to move, to fight, to distract himself even though it feels like the walls are closing in.

Tristan had left for Benwick a week prior, to visit Lancelot and attempt to find a way to lift him up despite Percival's death, to attempt to bring him back into the fold.

He left with his Platoon, Isolde and Chion, and Meliodas trusted them of course. But, his son was powerful just by himself, so he was at least a little reassured in that aspect. Meliodas never thought Arthur would attack again, not now, not when he'd succeeded in ridding of the prophecy.

Isolde is limping, holding up a barely awake Chion, and all of his fears suddenly come true.

They were attacked by Arthur's knights.

Tristan tried to buy them time to get out of there.

Tristan didn't come home.

His son had been /taken from him/.

Meliodas is ruined.

_

He enters the meeting hall, opening the doors himself and feels as though he's working on autopilot, like someone has taken over his body and is doing everything for him because--how could he do anything else? How could he? When his worst nightmare has become reality.

Elizabeth, his wife, his beautiful, gorgeous other half, his strong, /true/ soulmate stands at the end of the table whilst other Lords of the realm discuss amongst themselves. They had been for days, inside of these four walls, panicked now that Percival's death was made public. Elizabeth had been attempting to placate them, to reassure them that not all was lost.

But, it was. Everything was lost. His son was gone.

Meliodas doesn't feel the tears on his cheeks, nor does he feel the stare and silence of every knight and lord now that he's entered. He simply limps his way over to his wife who's staring at him with wide, golden eyes, absolutely frozen as she watches her husband and his hunched over form, like he'll fall apart.

Something's wrong. Something's happened.

She goes cold, an unmistakable numbness taking over her, true, /pure/ fear taking ahold of everything she is.

She's never felt such terror before. Not ever.

Something's /wrong/.

Meliodas finally makes his way over to her, exhaling shakily before he reaches up to gently grab her hand and, for a moment, it looked as though he were moving to softly graze her stomach, her womb, before he twitches to grasp her palm and turn the two of them around towards the fireplace behind them, away from the eyes of the lords and knights staring at them as though they're ghosts.

Elizabeth feels her husband shake, /shake/, and she thinks she knows.

"Arthur-" Meliodas' voice is hoarse, as though he had been screaming. "He took our boy, Elizabeth. Our baby."

Her worst nightmare, now a reality.

Elizabeth is ruined.

She rips her hand from his, going completely cold, cold as corpse, and takes a step away from him, skin going paler than that of a ghost.

She moves to take another step, and nearly falls over, her foot shaking.

Elizabeth /trembles/, fear overriding her, terror and horror making a home inside of her insides, replacing her blood for dread, and her bones for panic. Her heart beats loudly in her ears, resounding throughout her skull as she moves away from him, trying and nearly failing to hold herself upright.

Her hands reach up to grasp at her stomach, where she once created life from, where she once held her son away from the whole world, where her son couldn't be taken from her.

She bows her head and shakes uncontrollably, all noise turning muffled as grief immediately takes over her, fills her senses and she /sobs/.

/No, no, no/, her mind begs. /Please, let this be a nightmare. Please/.

Her son, her boy, her baby. Gone. Gone. Gone.

/"What's happened?"/

/"Is the Queen alright?"/

/"Your Grace, are you-?"/

Her son, her boy, her baby. Taken. Taken. Taken.

What else would this world take? What else would the Gods deem her unworthy of? How much more would she suffer?

Arthur had been her friend, her ally, but he had lost his way.

She had been prepared to save him, to help guide him back on the right path because-it wasn't his fault. It wasn't him anymore, it was Chaos inside of him, controlling him, making him do things he wouldn't ever normally do.

She was prepared to forgive him.

But there was no forgiveness any longer.

Elizabeth had none left to give.

Suddenly, she lifts her head back up and stands upright, very suddenly calm as she exhales once, twice, three times, through her parted lips.

It was as if all sorrow and grief had been burnt away, burnt away by the boiling, ever so careful /rage/ consuming her, taking over all she was and all she'd ever be.

She can feel the tears drying on her cheeks as she turns around, facing her husband and the rest of the room.

Meliodas stares at her as though he's never seen her before.

The lords and knights all rear back at the sight of her.

"His head," She heaves as her skin boils alive. Her stomach is an empty vessel now, barren and cold. "Bring me Arthur Pendragon's /head/."

She wasn't a defenseless little princess, she hadn't been for a long time, but for the first time since facing off against the Demon King, does she truly feel as though her rage could transform her into something vicious.

Meliodas' eyes are shining still, filled with tears, but they're empty, nearly lifeless, and they are the same in their shared grief. But, hers burns brighter than the light of a thousand suns, and his is an empty cavern filled with nothingness.

The grief and rage of losing a child could burn down the world. Either the Kingdom of Britannia or Kingdom of Camelot could be allowed to prosper, but not both.

Arthur Pendragon would reap what he's now so viciously sown, would pay for everything he had taken from her.

After all, hell hath no fury like a woman scorned.

[morgansunflower]

Solace

Age reverse! Damian Wayne X Wife! Reader

Warnings:suggestive content, explicit language, angst, and grief

Words:1445

Arthur's notes! Age reverse au. Damian(24), Stephanie(17), Duke(16), Tim(15),  Jason(12), Cassandra(11), Grayson(10)

Damian grieves as he remembers his parents deaths but finds comfort in his family

Damian was dressed in his winter attire as it was snowing outside. He could not seem to shake away the unpredictable grief that shook him.

He walks down the stairs steps one by one. He curses himself for being detected, as he hears his son running to him from the steps from above him.

He was frustrated not because he did not wish to see him, but he did not wish to cause him worry. Dick had a unique skill that he shared with his adopted mother and with Alfred, of always knowing when Damian was struggling. Wether it be his tone that he tried to keep steady or his eyes that he tried to keep still. The saddened dark knight didn't know how they could see through him.

"hey Dami!"

"Grayson" he greeted

"where are you going?! Do you want to have a snowball fight with me outside?!" Dick pleads with slur from having lost his tooth just the other day

"perhaps another time I'm going for a small walk" Damian said smiling softly to his little boy "I'll be back shortly"

"OK" Dick said watching him walk to the door and leave... Something was definitely bothering him.

Grayson walked to find his mom. He sees his parents bedroom door shut. He gently knocked.

"come in" she answered

Dick opens the door to see his mom brushing her hair. Y/N smiled to her son.

"hey kiddo, how are you?" she kindly asked

"hey Mom. I'm fine.."

"just fine what's bothering you?"

"why... Why is Dami upset?"

Her heart falls to see the overwhelming amount of worry on her son's shoulders "ohh sweetheart, do you remember him telling you about his parents?" Dick nodded "well, when you miss the people you lost, sometimes you need time to let yourself grieve for a little while.. He'll be OK"

"ohh I wish I could make him not feel sad" he sadly said

She holds his face in her hands "oh sweetie you do. You make Damian very happy" she hugs him kissing his head "all of you do"

He hugged her tightly and looks up to her with a wide smile "can I make him cookies?! Cookies make me feel better!" he excitedly asked

She chuckled warmed by her son's sweet nature "of course"

Y/N tied a bow on her apron. Alfred was currently making dinner while Y/N and Dick made cookies.

"smells good in here, what are you guys doing?" Jason asked walking into the room

"hey sweetie!" his mother greeted to which her son smiled

"we're making cookies! You want to help!" Dick asked his big brother

"sure" he shrugged

"Damian go for a walk?" he mumbled to his mother

She nodded to Jason as he cut the cookie with the cookie cutter. Whenever Damian struggled with anything... Damian would draw for a while and if that didn't work he would leave for a walk outside to try to clear his mind.

He watches to see Dick is preoccupied helping Alfred stir the soup.. He didn't want to ask or even say anything.... He looks at Y/N stirring more cookie batter.

"is it something I did?" Jason asked worried something from his past arguments with Damian was causing him turmoil.

"oh Jason he's not upset with you or anyone.. Damian is just struggling right now. Like we all do sometimes"

Jason nodded trying to convince himself what she said was true. Y/N didn't want to overwhlem her son with affection, so instead of a hug. She gave him a gentle rub on his back. Jason tilted his head on her arm.

"I know you're worried about him but he's going to be OK"

"I know"

"AWW IT SMELLS AMAZING IN HERE!!" Steph announced walking in as she breathes in the sweet smell

"come make cookies with us!" Dick said happily

"you can help however you'd like to" Y/N said wide smiled as her daughter hugged her arm

"sounds like fun to me and you simply cannot have fun without the queen of fun" Steph said now tickling the side of Grayson's neck as the little boy laughs

As Y/N rolled out the dough she hears her phone chime from a text message.

"don't mind checking. It's me in the family group chat telling everyone to come help make cookies"

"I guess I'm making more dough" Y/N chuckled

"YAYYY!!" Dick said

Little Cass held onto Duke as he carried her on his back into the kitchen. Y/N was mixing the batter as she smiled seeing the kind pair of smiles. Duke gently put down his little sister as they were greeted.

"hey guys glad you came!" she greeted

"are you kidding? Steph would have drug me here by collar had I not come"

"oh I definitely would!" Stephanie agreed

"I can help you stir Mom" Cass offered

"I'd love your help" she smiled to her daughter

Tim walked in overwhlemed by the amount of chaos, but it wouldn't be home if there wasn't a little bit of craziness going on.

As the day went on into evening. Damian steps to the manor knowing dinner would be ready in just a few minutes. Though deep down he was missing his family.

The dark knight was curious hearing joyous laughter in the kitchen of all places. He stepped in seeing the ingredients for cookies scattered, everywhere. There were dozens and dozens of assorted cookies being made.

They each saw their adopted father and became quiet. Damian softly smiled to his loved ones

"is there enough for me?" he asked

Laughter was among them each as there was far too many cookies but the family were enjoying themselves too much. Which would involve a trip to Gotham's homeless shelter to donate.

Y/N takes off her apron and walks to give her husband a sweet kiss.

Damian wraps his arms around her waist as she lifts her own around his neck. He gave her a tender but soft kiss as unfortunately eyes were among them.

As everyone was sitting in the dining room enjoying dinner. Damian was holding his wife's hand.. He looks at her realizing yet again how much he loves her and his family.... Finally they were done with dinner. The sun was setting.

"your excused I'll shall be down momentarily"

All the children excluding Duke quickly got up

"you crazy night patrollers have fun" Duke said and yawns "I'm winding down for the night"

"your're just jealous because patrolling in the dark makes us more scary" Dick said

"oh it certainly makes you more frightening that's for sure" Duke chuckled

As the couple were alone Damian kisses her with the passion he had carved to since he had kissed her prior.

"I'm glad you're doing better" she smiled holding his face in her hands

He takes her hand to kiss her palm "even in my moments of grief.. You, and our family give me the solace I yearn for"

Much later that night Batman gently rubbed Robin's head as the young child was asleep in his bed. Damian laid the blanket on him and leaves his son's room.

He knew Steph would fall asleep the instant she laid on her bed. Duke would be awake in just a few hours. Cass was a light sleeper but as soon as she was comfortable, she would be asleep. Tim however... Damian steps to his room to hear typing on a laptop....

"lights out Drake!" Damian told Tim through the door

"5 more minutes!" he pleads

"don't push me. You'll thank me for getting a good nights rest and not falling face first into your bowl of cereal"

"that only happened like three times!"

"once is one too many, bed Drake or I'm putting on a, pass code that I know you wouldn't be able to crack"

"FINE"

Jason usually slept well unless he was upset.. Or reading. Damian steps to his room. He slowly pushed the door open.

He sees Jason sleeping while sitting with his knees up against his chest, on the chair with his book in hand.

Damian takes the book putting it on his bookshelf. He lifts the little boy into his arms.

Jason started to awaken, by the contact but kept his eyes closed. He didn't panic as he recognized the feeling of the arms that held him with care. He feels safe....

Damian moved the covers and laid Jason on the bed. He lays the covers on him but not too close to his neck as Jason was claustrophobic.

Damian kissed his son's forehead. He was surprised as his little arms wrap around his neck.

Requested taglist@too-strong-to-losee @asrainterstellar

[twola]

Yo yo yo! I have a request. Do Arthur x f!reader where he's teaching her to fish because Hosea/Dutch has found out shes weirdly squirmy about fish but she's being a reluctant brat about things and Arthur loses his temper 'GODDAMMIT wOmAn!' Style. Make its as unhinged smutty as you please (so a LOT 😏) Thank you! 😘😘😘

Ooh. Well now - I do not like fish that much, so this isn’t a stretch for me 😂 This was super fun!! I hope you enjoy.

Gone Fishin'

Arthur Morgan x Fem!Reader Smut (18+), MDNI

➵ Fic Masterlist ➵ AO3 Link

As Arthur reaches the end of his convalescence after his run-in with Colm O’Driscoll, Hosea has a task for him - teach one of the girls how to fish. The task, he finds out, is a little harder than he imagined. Also, he’s a little harder than he imagined. 

Lemoyne was warm. Warm and humid, buggy, and miserable. Arthur’s work shirt stuck to his skin, even after shedding his full union suit underneath his clothes, he’s still too damn hot. 

He’s hot and bored.

The pain in his shoulder is just a niggle at this point, but Grimshaw refused to let him go work again, even though the wound has closed up, scabbed over, and is scarred with new pink skin. 

Three more days, Grimshaw pointed at him, and with that tone that he knew he would catch hell from her if he disobeyed.

But he’s past languishing under the shade of his tent. Idleness may suit a drunk like Uncle - but not a man like him. He is a man of action.

He needs to do something. Or he is going to go crazy.

-

“Oh, come on, dear. It’s relaxing.”

“Hosea, I don’t do fish. I don’t like eatin’ them, and I sure as hell wouldn’t like catching them.” You huff, standing at the end of the dock. 

Hosea sits next to you, a fishing pole in his hand as his feet dangle over the side of the dock. You fiddle with your skirts as you gaze out at the lake, the water glinting in the afternoon sun.

“It’s an art, dear girl.”

You scowl down at him, “Fish are disgusting.” 

He laughs, “Oh, you. We’re on a lake, you’re gonna have to get used to fish real soon, missy.”

You roll your eyes, crossing your arms over your chest. It’s hot, and you wear just a simple white chemise top tucked into your cotton skirt, baring your arms and decolletage to the sun, a welcome opportunity after almost freezing to death in the Grizzlies. 

Hosea looks back toward the camp, where he sees Arthur mulling about. An idea strikes him, genius, as his ideas often are. He stands up, and waves over to the recovering gunslinger, “Arthur, c’mere! Got somethin’ for you to do!”

“No- Hosea,” you whisper harshly, clenching your fists in your skirts, “What are you doing?”

Arthur approaches the end of the dock, running his hand through his long beard, not having shaved in weeks at this point. “Hosea,” He grunts, then looks to you, “Miss.”

“Dear, you need to learn the fine art of fishing. And Arthur over here? He needs somethin’ to do other than sit around pissin’ off Grimshaw.” Hosea waves his free hand toward the camp,

Hosea claps Arthur’s back with his free hand, then turning and tugging you toward the gunslinger on the dock.

“Now you kids take the boat and get on out there, it’ll do both of you some good.”

“Wait wait, wasn’t it you and Dutch makin’ fun of me for the trout incident? I shouldn’t be teaching anyone how to fish.” Arthur shakes his head.

“Nonsense, boy. You caught plenty last time we went out. Besides, it’ll get you out of camp.”

“Fine.” Arthur groans, grabbing the fishing rod from the older man’s outstretched hand.

“Hosea-”  You whine, but your benefactor nods his head, cutting you off.

“Go on.” 

You roll your eyes, following Arthur as he steps into the rowboat moored at the dock, taking his outstretched hand, and helping you step into the small boat.

“You kids have fun now.” Hosea waves, a smile on his face.

Arthur grunts, picking up the oars and pushing off from the dock. You sit in the bow of the rowboat, scowling, as Arthur rows away from the camp, scanning the horizon. A hushed quiet falls as he guides the boat southbound, the camp becoming smaller and smaller as he rows deeper out into the lake.

“Why do you want to learn how to fish?”

“I don’t.” You huff, your arms crossed over your chest.

“Then why the hell are we out here?” Arthur stops rowing, a scowl also settling in on his face.

“Cause you can’t say no to Hosea.”

“Looks like neither can you.”

An awkward silence settles in between you.

“Well, we’re out here now. Might as well make the best of it.” Arthur says, pulling the oars into the hull of the boat and picking up the fishing rod. He holds it out to you.

You let out an exasperated sigh, refusing to uncross your arms.

Arthur grumbles, adjusting the hat on his head, before drawing the rod back and pulling a feathered lure from his pocket, placing it on the hook. He casts the line further out into the lake. 

“Didn’t really plan on fishin’ today, otherwise I’d have some live bait - worms or crickets or whatnot.” He turns back to you, tugging on the rod slightly, glancing back as the lure bobs in the water.

You glower, scrunching your nose at the mention of live bait.

“I hate fish.” You grit out.

“Oh, hush.” Arthur chides. The line pulls, and he feels something bite.

“Here ya go!” He pulls back the line, the fish hanging in the air. With a grin, he swings the pole in your direction, the bluegill flopping on the line, getting closer to your head.

You scream, standing up in the boat and batting the fish away from your face, causing Arthur to jerk to the side, dropping the fishing pole in surprise. The boat violently bobs side to side with your movement.

“Goddamnit, woman!” Arthur yells, nearly falling over the side of the boat as he tries to catch the pole that you batted away from him.

“I told you I don’t like fish!” You screech, sitting back down slowly as the boat bucks. 

“That’s it, Christ; you’re such a goddamn brat!” Arthur throws the pole within the hull of the boat and grabs the oars, thrusting them into the water forcefully. He heaves the oars, forcing the boat forward as he angrily pulls and pushes back toward the shore, breathing heavily as he propels the boat through the water.

“Arthur - wait-”

“Waste of my goddamn time,” He continues, fuming. It actually feels good to work his muscles like this.

“Arthur!”

By then, it’s too late. The boat hits a sandbar and beaches itself, and the speed at which Arthur was rowing causes the boat to lurch violently, sending you flying forward into his body, and you both tumble to the hull of the boat, a jumble of limbs and your skirts.

Arthur pushes you up, and you nearly fall backward with the force of his shove.

He swears as you get your footing, sitting up and looking for the oars as he pulls himself back up to his seat.

The oars are nowhere to be found. He probably dropped them when he beached the damn boat. Actually, as he squints, he sees one floating away from the sandbar, back toward the middle of the lake.

“Shit.” He curses.

“You idiot.”  You sneer at him, lifting your boot to find it wet with lakewater, a hole having sprung in the bottom of the hull, the wood splintered as water rushes in. You hike up your skirts as the level of water rises within the boat.

Arthur jumps out of the boat, grumbling, looking this way and that as you climb out as well. The sandbar the boat is beached upon is on one of the small islands off the shore of the lake, a good fifty feet to the mainland. He curses to himself as he looks back into the boat, the hull filling with water.

“Now what?” You ask critically as you let your skirts down, following him as he stalks along the island’s shore. 

He doesn’t answer, looking around at the sandy ground beneath his boots.

“Watch out for the snake.” He points at the ground next to you, and your eyes dart downward as a brown water moccasin slithers by.

You scream, jumping toward him in fear away from the snake as it glides away into the water, and in a jumble of limbs, you’re somehow climbing the man as he stumbles backward.

“Get me out of here!”

Arthur tries to have some sort of propriety as he tries to regain his balance, but it’s hard when the only hold on you he can get is to loop his hands under the backs of your thighs. You’re clutching at his shoulders, trying to get yourself off of the ground, and end up finding purchase on him by wrapping your legs around his hips, your skirts askew as you pant in terror.

“Fuckin’ stop-” Arthur grunts, stumbling backwards, finally losing his battle with gravity as you and he tumble into a sand dune. His hat flies off, rolling on its rim in a circle, finally settling a few feet away.

Of course, of course, it couldn’t suit him to land in any kind of proper or decent way. No, no, he had to land completely on top of you, slotted between your hips, your skirts creeping up while his traitorous, immature, villainous cock swells at the pressure of his weight against your clothed cunt.

The air has been knocked out of your lungs, but beneath him, you gasp as he tries to move. Your knees frame him, skirts fallen to your hips to show your skin. Your arms are still thrown around his shoulders as he tries to push himself up, his hands slipping in the sand, causing him to crumble down on you, his hips fully pressing down on yours.

Shit. Shit.

He’s trying to think of anything - rotten meat, Uncle’s laundry - anything to stave off the growing erection tenting within his pants. But alas, he is a slave to his own biology, as his cock stiffens and his blood rushes into his groin.

You stare up at him. His eyes dart away in embarrassment, a blush deepening on his cheeks.

Then, you do something that throws him even further into this pit of arousal he finds himself in.

You slowly roll your hips against him and he cannot help but to let out a low moan in response and press his swollen cock against you harder.

Christ, your hair has fallen from its bun, spread out on the sandy soil of this island like some sort of halo.

Two minutes ago he wanted to throttle you. Now, underneath him, he wants to make you gasp and cry and oh, to say his name in a high whine-

“Fuck-” he curses, but before he can go any further, your hands move from his shoulders to the back of his neck, and you pull downward gently - not enough to move him, but enough to give him permission.

He waits for a moment, searching your wide eyes, your open, wet lips, and in that moment, he throws caution to the wind and leans down to slot his lips against yours. You continue to roll your hips against him, crossing your ankles over his back in a surefire sign of what you wanted, whining into his mouth.

And fuck, if he wasn’t going to give it to you.

As he leans back on his knees, sliding his arms from around your waist, he paws his suspenders down and starts unbuttoning his pants, desperate to free his swollen cock. He grunts with a hint of satisfaction as he pulls his length from his pants, closing his eyes as he strokes himself several times. He faintly recognizes your squirming beneath him, and when he’s opened his eyes again, hand still on his cock, he’s struck by what he sees. You’ve shimmied down your bloomers, skirts flipped up and over your hips, pooling across your waist.

Your folds glisten with moisture, and his hips jut forward near uncontrollably, his cock seeking out your warmth, his body yearning to bury itself within your hips.

“Y- you sure-?” One last chance - one more opportunity to back away from the precipice - to realize that you are both being ridiculous - one second ready to kill each other, the next…

“Arthur please.”

Well, there goes his reservations.

One of his large hands spreads out over your hip, the other around the base of his cock, and he presses the swollen, dripping head of his cock against your folds, trailing downwards as he parts them to your opening, groaning in pleasure as he slips in half an inch.

His hand leaves his cock as he leans back over you, arm landing next to your shoulder, as he gently presses his hips forward, sliding in as you shut your eyes in overstimulation. By the time his hips press against your own and he’s sheathed in you to the hilt, your eyes flutter open as you let out a breath you were holding. Arthur’s other arm comes up to bracket you in, his mouth hanging open as a strand of his honeyed-brown hair falls forward between his eyes.

He lowers himself down to his elbows to press himself completely against you, seeking out your lips again as he bucks his hips forward, causing you to mewl into his mouth, your arms wrapping around his neck, one hand cupping the back of his head, fingers threading into his long hair, grasping it tightly as he settles into a rhythm of rolling his hips back and forth.

You pull on his hair and he groans, thrusting hard into you in response. Seems like you aren’t over your surly mood. He finds a hard and punishing rhythm, again feeling good to work his muscles after his convalescence.  It had been much longer than that since he’s worked these particular muscles.

“A-Arthur-” You moan loudly as he continually strokes that spot within you. He grunts in response, pulling his cock nearly out of your cunt before slamming his hips back into you.

You shriek in pleasure, and for a moment he’s thankful he’s marooned the two of you on this island yards away from the shore of the lake.

“Y’gonna come for me?” He harshly whispers into your ear, “Y’gonna come on my cock?”

That does it.

You cry out, back arching against him, head thrown back into the grassy dune, a high keening sound that makes him moan helplessly in response, gyrating his hips as your cunt clenches hard around his length, warm and wet and perfect.

“Fuck - fuck - woman…” He groans, rutting forward as you come down from your high, his cock pulsing and covered in your warm slick, and he is forced to pull himself from you, gliding out as he sits back on his knees and starts to pump himself.

You look up and god, is he a sight. His hips buck forward as he strokes his length, his mouth hanging open and muscles of his abdomen clenching under his shirt tails. A low moan escapes him as his other hand flies to cover the head of his cock, and he comes with his eyes screwed shut, looming over you.

He pants, for several moments, before opening his eyes. You sit up, needing, needing more, and you loop your hands around his neck again and pull his lips to yours, pressing your tongue into his mouth. He grunts in surprise, but leans into the kiss, tangling his tongue with yours.

You pull back, a smile creeping across your face, and as he opens his eyes, he cannot help the same.

“Is that how your lessons always end?” You laugh as he tucks himself away with his clean hand, leaning to the side to wipe his other hand in the grass as a half a smile creeps across his face.

“Only when the student is difficult.” He rumbles, tucking his shirt back into his pants as you start to pull your skirts down over your thighs.

“Mm.. I do remember you offering to teach me to shoot before Blackwater.”

Arthur arches an eyebrow as he rebuttons his pants and slides his suspenders back up. “Y’gonna be a brat about it?”

“Of course.”

He smirks, reaching for his hat on his knees. You push yourself up to stand, shaking your skirt free of sand and grass as you look for where you tossed your bloomers in your fit of passion.

“Arthur.”

“Mhm?” He replies, running his hand through his long hair before placing his hat back on his head.

“How are we going to get back to shore?”

-

Hosea smokes a cigarette sitting by the scout fire, the sun having gone down some time ago.

He’s starting to feel a niggle of concern that the two of you aren’t back. The both of you can certainly take care of yourselves.

You’re stalking back toward your tent, your clothes soaking wet, hair plastered down your neck. You refuse to give Hosea even a passing glance as you head back to the women’s tent.

Hosea arches an eyebrow as Arthur walks closer, also fuming. Also soaking wet. The gunslinger looks at Hosea briefly before carrying on.

“Lesson didn’t go as planned.”

[emeritusemeritus]

Just wanna bewitch you in the moonlight. Pt 6.

[Fred Weasley x Reader x George Weasley]

Part 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12

Title: Just wanna bewitch you in the moonlight.

Pairing: Fred Weasley x Reader x George Weasley

Timeline: Predominately set between GOF and OOTP (some canon has been altered to fit the story)

Summary: Both twins like Gryffindor!reader. Reader likes both twins. How will she decide who to chose in the end? Amortentia might be able to help, or not.

Warnings: Smut, oral sex, p in v sex, established relationships, threesomes, friends to lovers, all the good stuff. NO Twincest. Mentions of illness, Brief mentions of vomiting. Tiny bit of angst, possessiveness, talk of kids. Mentions of dominant behaviour. Snape has a soft spot for reader. Love potions? But none are actually used.

Just a whole load of Weasley family fluff for you all before the dirty Freddie stuff begins 🤍

The next week carried on much the same, with classes, quidditch games and time spent with your friends. After receiving a week long detention for whatever prank they'd decided to pull this week, you had hardly seen the twins apart from mealtimes when you were forced to hide the nature of your relationship from your friends.

Monday morning rolled around and instead of dressing in your robes and gathering your potion books, you were packing up the last remaining items into your little trunk, ready to spend the week's holiday at the Burrow. Hermione and Harry would also be joining the Weasley's again, though Hermione was only staying for a few days until she went home to her parents.

You'd initially all planned to go back Saturday morning but Molly had sent an owl to Ginny, letting you know that her and Arthur had to make an emergency visit to great-aunt Muriel and asked for you all to arrive Monday instead. Fred was livid, having planned his weekend in advance with you, though he'd not told you any details. You'd managed to talk him round and George had formidably offered for him to spend the day with you on whatever day he wanted, knowing that he had you last week. Fred had managed to calm down after that and had agreed to George's counter offer, though he was still a little tetchy about it.

A knock at the door made you pause your packing as you shouted out for the caller to enter. In walked Fred, closely followed by George, who both seemed too awake for this early in the morning.

"Your tea mi'lady," George smiles, bowing his head as he passes you a steaming cup of tea.

"Why thank you kind sir, your token is much appreciated," you joked back, grabbing the cup of tea from his hands and moving forward to place a kiss on his lips. He smiles down at you with a look of pure love and kisses your forehead as you place the tea on your bedside table to let it cool.

"A grateful blowjob would also be much appreciated," he chuckles, causing you to whack him in the arm. He laughs, as does Fred, and grumbles under his breath about it being 'worth a shot'.

"So why does he get all the kisses?" Fred whines like a child. You turn and laugh, seeing his bottom lip pushed out.

"He brought tea," you reasoned cheekily only for Fred to let out a dramatic gasp. You couldn't deny him any longer and moved towards him to give him a sweet kiss. His arms wrapped around you, refusing to let go as he planted more kisses over your face as you squealed.

"I have to pack!" You said, breaking free from him and moving towards your trunk whilst the boys threw themselves down on your bed, absently levitating a quill between them as they watched you pack.

"So are you looking forward to it?" George asks, watching you closely as you pack up your toiletry bag.

"Of course, watching the sunrise over the hills, your mum's cooking and your dad asking me 10,000 questions about aeroplanes- can't wait," you laughed, prompting them to chuckle too.

"Wish we could be open about everything though," George says, the conversation suddenly turning a little downward. Fred nodded his head agreeing with his brother and you silently agreed too, knowing how hard it would be to have to pretend again that you were all just friends in front of everyone.

"Let's just not think about it," Fred says, trying to divert the conversation, "see it this way mate," he says turning his attention to George, "if mum thinks we're just friends with y/n/n, we can get up to so much more. If she was a girlfriend she'd be locked away with Ginny and Hermione the whole time!"

He did have a point, you thought. George seemed to get onboard with this way of thinking pretty quickly and immediately went back to pestering you again.

"That reminds me, I'm having a sleepover with Ginny this week, whatever day we're not doing something," you said, trying to close up your trunk. You'd left a few things back in George and Fred's room at the Burrow so you didn't have to take everything back and forth with you, but there was some additional stuff you needed and cramming it into your small case was no easy feat.

The twins immediately began grumbling, mainly Fred, but you shot them a look which told them you wouldn't hear any nonsense on the matter, which did actually shut them up.

"Bloody hell, you could be a Weasley woman with that glare," George says chuckling to himself.

"Don't, last thing I want right now is to hear Bill's name come out of her mouth," Fred grumbles, absently scrunching up a piece of scrap parchment and throwing it across the room.

"Actually, I wasn't going to say anything about him," you said, trying to keep Fred from being in a bad mood, "I was going to ask which of you would make me a Weasley."

"Both," they instantly replied, smirking at you. Seeing Fred's smirk and George's dreamy smile, you smiled, feeling your heart warming at their words.

"So, train or Floo?" You asked, still struggling to close up the trunk and getting a little more frustrated than you should. Fred silently stood from the bed and rolled up his sleeves, pressing down on the case hard as he managed to get it closed, doing the stiff latches with little effort. The whole act shouldn't have been as hot as it was but for some reason you melted at the sight, feeling a tingle spread over your lower body at the sight of his veined forearms.

"Floo," Fred says, hopping back down onto the bed.

"Dad can't fit us all in the car and muggle taxis would be too expensive," George explains, sitting forward as you take a few sips of your tea. "Mcgonagall has a fireplace in the transfiguration office, Hermione managed to talk her round and she's letting us use it."

"Bloody hell, how did she manage that?" You asked, surprised that Mcgonagall would allow students to do that.

"We asked the same thing," George says with a laugh.

"Shame it's not Potion master's office, eh princess?" Fred smirks, never one to leave things alone.

"What are you babbling on about?" You ask with a frown, feeling a sudden shift in the conversation you were definitely not prepared for, especially so early in a morning.

"Just saying he seems a bit partial to you, don't get me wrong we can see why, but we've been here nearly seven years and he's never once given anyone house points that wasn't a slytherin," Fred says, leaning forward so that his elbows rested on his knees and his hand was leaning on his palm, a smarmy grin on his lips.

"What do you mean you can see why?" You ask, turning a little too defensive at Fred's words, knowing that it was close to striking a nerve.

"Well, you're hot, angel," George explains with a shrug, a little less bluntly than his oaf of a twin.

"Oh yeah because I'm sure old Snapey is just dying to bend me over a cauldron first chance he gets," you snark, "nothing to do with the fact I'm actually good at potions."

"Woah princess," Fred says, raising his hands, "we never said that."

You huffed out a breath to recalibrate yourself and took a big swig of your tea.

"But he probably could do with getting laid," Fred adds absently with George agreeing with him.

"Right, well next week I'll be sure to tell him I'm available to give him the best fuck of his life," you grumble, placing your now empty mug onto your bedside table.

"Like hell you are," they both say in unison, so sharply and defensively it was comical. You huff out a laugh and shake your head, moving to sit on your roommates vacant bed, facing them.

"Just saying, I'd be careful brewing love potions around him again," Fred laughs, clearly not knowing when to leave it alone. "You never told us anyway, what did you smell?"

You immediately feel like you'd swallowed a giant rock, the weight of his words making the colour drain from your face. It had been almost exactly a week since your little incident with the love potion and you'd successfully managed to push it out of your mind until now. You hadn't told anyone about what had happened, after all how could you and least of all the twins that were involved. You didn't want to involve them in this mess anymore than they already were and so you'd maintained your silence and deflected any questioning on the matter.

"Snape's greasy hair," you muttered sarcastically, walking away towards the little wardrobe at the side, pulling out your raincoat and a big jumper, ironically one that you'd 'borrowed' from George a little while back.

"I've been looking for that!" He says, clocking the jumper in your hand as you walk back over to them and flash him an innocent smile.

"Looks better on me," you shrug with a laugh, not even remotely apologetic. You were just glad that the conversation had diverted enough and been forgotten.

"Fair point," George says, throwing himself back on the bed, clearly not too annoyed at your niffler like qualities.

Hermione and Ginny arrived in your room a little while later and were initially surprised to see Fred and George lounging on your bed but played it off well as you all left to meet Ron and Harry down in the common room. George reached for your small but heavy case and shot you a subtle wink as he carried it down the stairs for you. Even when he grabbed his own bag, he never gave you back your case, despite your protests, and carried it all the way to Mcgonagall's office for you.

Mcgonagall greeted you all as she opened up her office door and tapped on the bricks beside the fireplace in a specific order, muttering a password quietly and essentially unlocking the fireplace until the flames shone green. She ushered you all forward and held out a little pot of Floo powder for you all to take as you stepped into the fire.

Hermione stepped through first, then Ron, Harry and then Ginny. George, still holding your case, shot you a quick wink, whispering that he'd see you on the other side as he stepped through, leaving just you and Fred.

"Go on princess," Fred said loudly, ushering you forward. Realising his faux pas, you shot a quick glance at Mcgonagall who had clearly overheard and tried to look away but you could see the hint of a smile tugging at the corner of her lips, making you blush.

You stepped into the fireplace, grabbed a handful of Floo powder and spoke clearly as you made your destination known. You were immediately transported straight to the Burrow, the comforting sights and smells of the home hitting you as soon as you stepped out of the fireplace, dusting yourself off quickly so you didn't cause a mess before you stepped aside, knowing that Fred would be following closely behind.

"Y/n, dear, welcome home!" Molly said as she moves quickly to embrace you. You're immediately struck by her words, feeling as if you could tear up at the notion she considered this your home too.

"Hi Molly," you smile, holding her tightly, "thank you for having me again."

"Oh you're always welcome dear you know this," she says pulling apart and briefly holding onto your shoulders until her son appears behind you in the flames.

She immediately rushes to greet him, briefly yelling at him to dust himself off as he mindlessly walks out of the fire covered in floo powder and ash, walking it straight onto the rug. She pulls him into a hug and pulls him down playfully by the ears so that he'll bend his head and she places a kiss on his head.

"Right, lunch!" She says, suddenly rushing off into the kitchen as her little muggle egg-timer rings out. You laugh, realising it's the chicken shaped egg timer you'd bought her last Christmas, after a long discussion with Arthur about muggle kitchen appliances. Molly had been fascinated at the novelty and was overjoyed by the little gesture.

"She uses it all the time," George says, hearing your little chuckle, moving to stand behind you, placing his hand tenderly on the curve of your hip, hidden out of sight behind Fred's body next to you.

"Y/n!" Ginny says, calling you over. You smile, linking George's hand for just a second where it stays placed on your hip, squeezing once before walking over to where Ginny and Hermione sat on the sofa.

"Can we have a sleepover tonight?" Her little face is so excited that you couldn't say no, having missed spending time with the girls. You cast a glance at the twins who were watching eagerly, having heard Ginny's request. You could tell they were leas than pleased but you implored them with your eyes, silently asking if they had plans for tonight, especially Fred. Fred shook his head gently, understanding your gaze and you gave them a warm smile before turning back to Ginny.

"Of course," you beamed, excited for the prospect of a girly sleepover. Both girls let out a little squeal and did a happy jig on their place on the sofa and you had to laugh along with them.

"Gin, will you braid my hair like last time?" You asked, remembering how she had knitted your whole hair into tight braids that ran along your head last time and wanted to do it again. You'd tried replicating it yourself a couple of times but it was much harder to do to yourself and has been entirely unsuccessful. You briefly wondered how she'd come to learn how to do it, looking round at three of her older brothers with currently long hair, wondering if she'd practiced on them, chuckling briefly at the thought.

"Of course! Will you do my makeup? You're so good at it and I never get it right!" Ginny grins and you nod enthusiastically.

"Sure, I have most of my stuff with me."

"I've bought a little portable DVD player and some discs so we can watch some muggle films!" Hermione says proudly, gesturing to the, frankly huge, trunk she had brought with her. You were honestly looking forward to it, feeling as if you needed a girly night away from the boys.

"Everyone, lunch!" Molly shouts from the kitchen. Ron immediately bolts into the kitchen, nearly leaving tire marks on the rug as he flies away, closely followed by Fred and George who manage to grab you en route and pull you along with them, plonking you down into the seat between them at the large table.

"Afternoon Weasley's!" Arthur says cheerfully as he walks through the kitchen door, carrying his briefcase and his flat cap under his arm. His timing is almost comical, like a sitcom entrance, just in time for lunch. Upon seeing you, Harry and Hermione he smiles and adds, "and honorary Weasley's!"

He's met by a chorus of morning dad and morning mr Weasley as he takes off his coat by the door and takes a seat at the head of the dinner table.

"Off for the week now kids?" He asks, pulling out a napkin and tucking it into his shirt.

"Yes mr Weasley," Harry replies, reaching for a couple of small sandwiches Molly had laid out after Ron started enthusiastically tucking in.

"Wonderful, now how has school been?"

You smile as you watch Mr Weasley interact with his children and the two addition kids he had pseudo adopted a few years back, seeing how he bloomed and exuded joy being surrounded by his family. It made you happy to see him so exuberant and animated as he discussed this terms quidditch season, beaming with pride as George, Fred and Harry spoke of their achievements on the pitch.

Being honest with yourself, it made your heart pang with sadness thinking of your own, largely absent father and what you had missed out on over the years. You wished one day that you would have a family much like this with a happy home and kids that never doubted their parent's love for them.

George subtly nudged your arm with his elbow, breaking you out of your little trance. He briefly frowned at you in concern as he shot a look towards your empty place, noticing that you were the only one who had not began eating.

You immediately shot him a smile, telling him not to worry and reached for a delicious looking homemade sausage roll.

"So y/n, you're approaching your sixth year, have you had any thoughts on the subjects you'll be taking for your N.E.W.T.S?" Mr Weasley asks before taking a large bite of an egg mayonnaise and cress sandwich, smiling at you with his kind eyes.

"Yes Mr Weasley, I actually have a meeting with professor Mcgonagall next Tuesday to discuss options, though I know I'd like to continue potions," you explain, placing some of the previously untouched salad onto your plate.

You can feel George's eyes on you at the new information, not having told him that your conversation last weekend had prompted you to reach out to your head of house for a career guidance appointment, which she was happy to schedule in for you.

"Potions, tricky subject," Mr Weasley says, sucking a breath through his teeth as he leans forward, "am I right in thinking that you need an outstanding at OWLS for NEWT entry?"

"Yes sir," you replied politely, taking a bite of your salad.

"And you achieved that?" He asks with an air of surprise. You nod, about to reply when you're interrupted by two familiar voices.

"She's brilliant," both twins said at the same time, making you laugh at the awkwardness of it.

"She brewed a love potion perfectly and Snape awarded her 30 house points! It's put us in the lead again for the house cup!" Ginny says excitedly as she munches on some crisps, having slightly more decorum than her slightly older brother.

"Wow, fantastic!" Mr Weasley says excitedly, "well done y/n!" He raises his glass of pumpkin juice and toasts to you, promoting a wide, beaming smile to spread over your face as you giggle.

"Oh well done dear, how brilliant," Molly says, moving behind you and patting your shoulder proudly.

You felt Fred staring at you to your right and when you looked up at him he was smirking down at you and shot you a quick wink.

"How are things at the ministry Mr Weasley?" Hermione asks and Arthur immediately begins talking business, or at least the parts that he can disclose.

The meal passes quickly in a blur of food, laughter and chatter and despite your protests of asking to help Molly clean up, she ushers you upstairs with the twins, who waste no time in pulling you away.

"So what time are you going to Ginny?" George asks as he closes the bedroom door.

"After dinner," you shrug, flopping down onto the bed.

"Perfect," Fred smirks as he reaches under the bed to pull out their box of mischief, ready to prep some owl post orders and do some tinkering.

The afternoon passes quickly as you help the twins with their business until Molly calls you all down for dinner. It's a messy affair with a gigantic cottage pie served up as family and friends converse and laugh at the table.

After dinner, you decide to quickly shower before the nighttime rush, washing your hair so that it's wet for Ginny to braid it. As you walk out of the bathroom in your pyjamas and back down the stairs, you see the twins bedroom door is open just a little and you poke your head in, knocking quietly to alert them.

"Miss us already princess?" Fred smirks from his place on the bed, now shirtless and reading his quidditch annual. George's head snaps up and he gives you a sweet smile from his place at the desk, pausing filling out the little order forms and parchment for the deliveries to give you attention.

"Always," you smile as you walk over to your case in the corner of their room, pulling out your hairbrush and makeup bag.

"And just when you think she can't get hotter, she gets wet," George smiles cheekily, causing you to roll your eyes.

"Don't know mate, I reckon she's always wet around us," Fred smirks, causing George to chuckle.

"Rotten boys," you mumble though your smile breaks through. You can't deny that there's something about seeing them so at home and comfortable which makes them seem ever hotter, and they probably weren't far wrong.

"Goodnight boys," you tease, briefly shooting a look towards the door as you lean down to give George a kiss. You then walk over to the bed and kiss Fred.

"Sweet dreams angel," George says with a sweet smile.

"You know where we are if you want a cuddle in the night," Fred smiles, winking at you as you walk out of the door and towards Ginny's room.

"Y/n! Perfect timing, mum sent these up!" Ginny says excitedly as you walk through the door, looking at the plate of biscuits in her hand and smiling. You put down your makeup bag on the little desk in Ginny's room and walked over to her mirror to brush your hair as they both make a space for you on the floor where you'd all be sleeping.

Seeing a few of the different blankets that were laid out, a blush creeped onto your cheeks at the memory of last weekend, of the same blankets strewn around as you made love to George.

"Okay, breakfast club or sixteen candles?" Hermione asks as she flicks through the little dvd wallet she's borrowed from her mum, filled with muggle movies.

"Breakfast club definitely!" You say, or rather insist, casting a glance back in the mirror as you try to untangle a particularly knotted strand of hair.

"Have you seen it? Mum says it's one of her favourites," Hermione smiles excitedly.

You nod with a chuckle, "yeah me and my friends have watched it a few times, it's one of my favourites too."

"Breakfast club it is!" Ginny says with a little squeal as she claps her hands. You take a moment to look at the two girls and see how perfectly happy they are. You'd grown up around boys yourself, most of your muggle friends being boys and then the twins, so you completely understood how valued a girly night could be, a chance to really bring out the side of yourself that you didn't often show too much.

"Okay, we have treats, a movie, I'll braid your hair and then you do my makeup? Oh I forgot drinks!" Ginny says, planning ahead.

"I'll go and get drinks," you smile, "what does everyone want?"

You make your way downstairs, seeing the twins' door is now shut and continue down until you reach the kitchen, seeing Molly sat at the table with a box of photographs out.

"Oh hello dear, can I get you anything?" She asks, immediately moving to stand by the table. You smile and shake your head, urging her to sit down.

"Just grabbing a few drinks, would you mind if I made a cup of tea? If my tea making skills weren't too horrible last time I could make you a cup too?" You laugh and she smiles warmly at you.

"That would be lovely dear, thank you."

You walk over and flick on the kettle seeing it already filled with water before pulling out two mugs and two glasses, filling the latter with pumpkin juice for the girls.

You cast a look back to Molly who looks sad, gazing at pictures of her kids when they were younger. You can see she's holding a picture of what looks to be a young Percy, smiling whilst holding an ice cream. Fred and George had mentioned the situation with Percy a few times, never quite explaining it in depth but you knew enough of his distancing to realise how much it must hurt her and Arthur.

When the kettle is done, you quickly fix the two cups of tea, her's with two sugars, and bring it over to her at the table.

"Thank you my dear," she smiles up at you though you can now see that the smile is masking a rather sad look in her eyes.

"Do you mind if I sit with you?" You ask. She briefly lifts her eyebrows in surprise before smiling again, this time genuinely as she offers you the seat beside her. "Do you want to talk about it?" You ask, surprising her again as you nod to the photo she's stroking with her thumb.

"Oh don't go bothering yourself with silly old me," she smiles but you shoot her a look which tells her that that is exactly what you wanted.

She begins telling you the story behind the photo and of a few more that appear, some of Percy and some of Ron, animatedly telling the tales and little quips from their childhoods. She looks so happy to walk down memory lane and you have to admit that it's nice to sit with her and listen.

She then pulls out a photo of the twins you had never seen, making you laugh as she passes it to you.

"So cute!" You hold it delicately and look upon the smiling faces of the boys, both stark naked except for a pair of Wellington boots on their feet, holding flowers and laughing at each other.

"Oh they'd hate to know I was showing you this," she giggles and you immediately see where the mischief in George and Fred comes from. Even seeing them no older than 2 or 3, you can immediately tell that Fred is on the right and George on the left. Fred's smile is wickeder whereas George's is playful and you can clearly make out a little freckle on George's right rib which is still prominent today.

She then pulls out another one and it looks like they're around 7 or 8 with a slightly younger and much shorter Ron stood beside them crying. Both twins are dressed identically in their raincoats as they stand cheekily with huge grins on their faces at what looks to be the seaside. George on the right is holding a fish that they look to have caught whereas Fred beside him isn't, until you looked at little wailing Ron who seemed to have a dead fish in his coat hood.

"I can never tell who's who in that photo," she admits and you smile.

"George is on the right," you say without thinking. She turns to you and you immediately realise that you might have said something incriminating.

"You've always been so able to tell them apart," she smiles, reaching for your hand and tapping it, "I'm envious but I'm so glad they have a friend like you. How can you tell?" She flicks her eyes back to the photo and tries to really look at their faces and you smile as you watch her so keen to tell them apart.

"George would never put a fish in Ron's hood unless Fred had dared him," you say with a chuckle, pointing at the missing fish in Fred's hand. "And he certainly wouldn't look that happy about it if he had." Molly laughs as she nods her head, seemingly understanding now that it's not always about physical differences.

"Fred and George were my happiest babies," she says with a fond smile as she digs through a stack of photos. "This one has always been my favourite of them."

She hands you the photo and you melt at seeing their happy little baby faces, an 'awww' noise falling from your lips subconsciously. They look less than a year old, both sat on the rug in front of a closed off fireplace, though the twin on the right is propped up slightly by a pillow, their smiles wide with only a few teeth between them, cheeks all round and chubby. You can make out little embroidered patches on their clothes, the one on the right with a G and the other with a little golden F sewn onto his tiny jumper. Even without the letters you could have seen who was who. George was looking directly into the camera, flashing his two bottom teeth whereas Fred was looking above the camera, beaming widely at whoever took the photo, his four front teeth gleaming from the flash of the camera. "They're so cute," you gush, handing her back the photograph.

"What's cute?" You hear, turning your head towards the voices, realising instantly that it's the twins. Molly immediately giggles, knowing how they'd react at seeing pictures of them.

"Your Wellington boots," you laugh as Molly erupts into more giggles.

"Mum!" They both shout running over, knowing instantly what you're referring to as they notice the box of photos on the table. You can't help but laugh along with Molly as she moves to put them away.

She grabs your hand again, ignoring the twin's protests and smiles at you, "thank you, I needed that."

"Anytime," you smile and she taps your hand motherly before pulling away and moving the box back to its place inside the cabinet.

Realising how long you've been gone, you reach for the two glasses of pumpkin juice and wink at the squabbling, blushing twins before climbing the stairs again.

"Sorry, sorry, your mum needed help with something," you explain as you enter Ginny's bedroom, now fully prepared for girls night.

——————

"I don't know, I think Andrew's cute!" Ginny says as you all debate over the hottest character in the breakfast club whilst you do Ginny's makeup. Ginny, true to form, fancied the blonde haired jock, whereas Hermione liked the science nerd Brian.

You'd watched the movie as Ginny braided your hair up into two tight braids that ran across your head and you were now discussing it whilst you gave Ginny a mini makeover.

"Y/n?" Hermione asks, turning to you, asking who your chosen character was.

"Bender obviously," you say matter of factly, laughing as you see their faces scrunch up.

"But he's so bad!" Hermione shouts, throwing her hands animatedly.

"Kind of the point 'mione," you smile, wiggling your eyebrows as you finish Ginny's eye makeup.

"Ahh she likes the bad boys!" Ginny squeals, causing you to roll your eyes and curse her for moving as you were filling in her eyebrows.

"So that's why you hang around with the twins so much!" Hermione giggles and you suddenly feel your throat go dry at her words. You knew that she hadn't truly meant anything by it but it still caught you off guard, realising that you needed to cover your tracks.

"Yeah right, you caught me," you laugh.

"So is there anyone you do have your eye on?" Hermione asks and you scramble to try and think of someone, anyone worth mentioning that would be believable. You come up empty. You can't think of a single boy you find even remotely attractive at school that wasn't ginger and 6ft 3.

"Not really," you lie, trying to sound as convincing as possible, "I guess I'm not really that interested? All the boys at school are just so immature and boyish."

"Once again, the twins?! They're your best friends and the most immature boys I've ever met," Ginny laughs, causing you to throw the nearest cushion at her. "You know I secretly always thought you'd end up with Fred."

"Huh?" You ask, a frown covering your face as your heart starts beating a little quicker at her words. She simply smiles and shrugs as Hermione nods her head in agreement.

"I just see the way he looks at you, and you two have always been so touchy and flirty, I thought for sure he would have made a move by now," Ginny says, shrugging again.

You immediately feel conflicted by her words, feeling torn between slight giddiness at hearing someone else's perspective on your secret boyfriend fancying you, but you also can't help the slight pang of remorse you feel at George not being included. You reason that most people can't even tell them apart and so maybe they just didn't see George being as flirty and attracted to you.

"You're all done," you say as you finish up Ginny's makeup, hoping that your slight diversion would stop the cut down the current  conversation.

She runs to the mirror and squeals in delight at seeing her shimmering eyes and long lashes.

Hermione giggles and messes with the DVD player, before slipping another disc out of the wallet.

"Okay, Sixteen Candles?"

[shower-phantom-ideas]

You guys just don’t understand

You can’t even begin to grasp the amount of pranks Danny could pull on super heros (is that one words? Superheros?)

Added a read more because I hate long posts

Danny as a ghost is so powerful. Like our boy can walk through walls, disappear, and fly! Do you even grasp how much more unique he is than the others guys??

Jokes aside just imagine if you will. Danny could leave batburger cups next to Batman all the time (he comes back later to toss em out of Big ol B doesn’t)

Like hell we talk about Danny just showing up basically stalking the heros but ok hear me out. He didn’t mean to figure out Batmans identity ok but he was in the right place at the right time and over heard some stuff. Now he follows Bruce Wayne around instead. Always spitting out if a batburger cup. Maybe Bruce makes eye contact with him and one time Danny just leans his drink out to as one does to offer a sip xD the man is horrified.

For the ?Robins? The other bats maybe he leaves gifts of sorts. Stuff they would like made from his ice or something. He can understand becoming a hero young and most (if not all) of them did that. He plays favourites with the younger Heros for sure. But hes still making them have there “God?? Is that you” moments like everyone else.

Hell he could follow Superman around and always make his cape flow against the wind and the Hero wouldn’t know wtf is going on. Maybe Superman hears a very slight snickering maybe but the prank is harmless enough so why worry too much. I mean it’s probably bad someone can do this without getting detected till they give themselves away by laughing but nothing harmful yet. (Yet would emphasise Batman)

I don’t know anything about GreenArrow but I assume he uses a bow and arrow so I could imagine Danny grabbing his arrows and making them fly in crazy wild paths before hitting their mark.

Idk honestly how he would fuck with GreenLatern besides like using his ghost powers to try and one up his ring. Like Lantern makes a shield? Danny makes a better one next to it or in front of it. Tbh it’s actually helping Danny get better at his powers so he does this a lot rip Hal (I did not know he was played by Ryan Reynolds maybe ill watch the newer movie)

He refuses to mess with Wonder Woman because the Phandom has told me she is his fav thus he refuses to prank her. He respects her too much and is a huge enough fan that hes too nervous to even approach. Thus she thinks she is this pranksters least favourite since she is never bothered.

Aqua-man (thx for the correction siri) is pretty fun to prank because Danny can follow the man underwater. Idk anything about science of it but imagine Danny like making a space he can talk in with his ice powers (making a bubble of sorts) to make spooky noises at ?Arthur? (R we seriously going with Arthur in this one?) like I assume without actual fish related powers, or with them I havent seen any thing aquaman, you can’t talk underwater. But also if Danny figures out his real name hes 100% gonna be playing the Hey Arthur theme at this man all the time.

He just lowkey overshadows cyborg. Not in a controlling way but just along for the ride kinda way. He was gonna make remarks about his tech but ended up being stunned by how good it is. “Fam I aint gonna lie. I came here to follow you around and make comments like a streamer but your tech is crazy cool. I mean you could have saved a little room with a more compact cooling unit but I mean this is probably some of the best stuff I have seen outside my family!” Or something idk. Maybe he goes full on antman in coldwar

As for the Flash thats pretty simple. He doesn’t let the Flash run from him. I don’t think Danny could keep up with the Flash at all. Like man cants have everyones powers (can’t he tho) but he just hangs on and pretends to have followed. I mean hes invisible the whole time so not like anyone can see lmao though if (idk who the flash is? So ill use Barry cause thats why google say) if Barry goes too fast he might get Danny to give up the game cause boy is on the side vomiting. Barry is pretty smug about probably being the first to throw the prankster for a loop but Danny is just on the side like “how can you go that fast and not be sick dude”

Like tbh I was gonna just make a list of pranks he pulls on Batman but yall seem to enjoy the Justice League so here go off I guess.

Honestly I had to charge my phone so I forget a lot of the post rip this kne

[peakbys]

HOMECOMING [1/?]

Pairing:  Arthur Shelby x Fem!Reader, Tommy Shelby x Fem!Reader Summary: Despite everything, somehow the roads you walked always ended taking you back to Birmingham, and to the odd relationship you had with the two eldest Shelby boys. When your aunt passes away and leaves you her home, you don’t find yourself in a position to refuse and realize that a lot of things aren’t how you left them in Small Heath.  Warnings:  Death, some angst and awkwardness but nothing too intense this time. Note: Hey! This is my first dip into the universe, so I apologize if the character’s seem a little off. I tried my best and rewrote a number of things, but I’m still trying to find my footing with them. Anyway, I hope you enjoy! I’m excited to start putting this fic together, finally.  Tag list (to be added just leave me a comment!): --

It took you a while to find her grave among the crowded tombstones, a part of you still not quite registering that you really were looking at her final resting place.

While the stone itself was still clean, new, it didn’t appear that she got many visitors. Outside of yourself, of course. Really, your mind was still with the letter you had received about her passing–a friend of hers had found her, thankfully not too long after she had passed. You were the person that she had named in a will to get the house, as much as it wasn’t anything too special. She had fought to keep it, though, and you could see in some sense why she would want to give it to family.  

There had been a bit of a war in you over obligation and personal reluctance for a couple days after you received the news. In the end, given where you currently stood, the victor of that fight was clear. You knew that perhaps you should have visited her home, first, before her grave. Yet, a part of you couldn’t bring yourself to go see what condition it was in.

Instead, you walked along the graves, a few flowers in one hand and a case of your belongings in the other.

With a small sigh, you dropped the case in your hand down near your feet before you bent down before the stone.

“Here you are, auntie,” you muttered, placing the flowers down on the base of the grave, “I couldn’t find your favorites, but you always said you liked to have a little bit of nature around. Brighten up the place a little.”

You rested your arms on your knees as you continued to remain crouched near the tombstone. Growing up, you had always huffed and complained about her insistence that you minded the plants she had in her home. Making sure you watered some at certain times, moved others to certain windows as the day progressed. Given how gray it usually was, you hadn’t seen what sunlight they would get, but it made her happy and that was what had you doing it in the end.

She had been pessimistic about a lot of things, including the idea of getting out of Small Heath, but she appreciated the flowers and plants.

“It was natural,” a voice started, snapping you out of your thoughts as you almost shot back up to your feet, whirling around to see someone standing a couple steps away from where you were.

“What?” you asked, almost reflexively. You watched as the man bowed his head somewhat toward your aunt’s grave, eyes somewhat obscured by the flat-cap he wore, gesturing toward the grave with his hand.

“Your aunt,” he clarified, dropping his hand so he could bring it up to take the lit cigarette from between his lips, “Died peaceful in her sleep. From what I’ve heard, anyway.”

You took in his appearance more so than his words for a few moments, a pair of icy blue eyes meeting your own with a stare that had always been so hard to read, his expression neutral and as equally indecipherable. It took a few moments for the surprise at his sudden appearance and for the years to catch up in your head, but you recognized him. It pulled a small, mildly amused huff from you, despite the situation.

“Well, that might be one of the few peaceful things that’s happened in her life,” you replied, shaking your head lightly. “Couldn’t let me have a day to settle in before showing up, Tommy?”

“I can’t resist a familiar face,” he replied somewhat flatly, yet you caught the touch of amusement that crossed his face. “Arthur’ll be knockin’ at your door once he knows you’re back. Always had somethin’ to say about your moving away before he got back from France.”

“...Good or bad?” you asked.

While you could say that you were closer to Arthur than Tommy while growing up, he did have a certain temper to him. That unpredictable nature had been fun and got you roped in a number of different situations the last time you were in Small Heath, you didn’t know how things were now. You had seen what the war did to certain men, too. You really didn’t know what was going to face you once you got settled into your aunt’s home.

“I’m sure you’ll know soon enough,” Tommy replied, the answer not exactly reassuring you but you’d handle it the best you could.

You just hoped maybe he’d let you have a night’s rest before you had to address all of that. Still, you let out a small sigh as you reached down to pick up your case, looking over your aunt’s grave for a few moments.

“I didn’t do it to spite him,” you said, glancing toward him, “I had an opportunity to leave and I took it.”

“I don’t hold that against you, it’s not my business,” Tommy said, turning aside to let you pass him as you finally stepped away from your aunt’s grave. “I am here about your aunt. Her name is in our books and has been for a while.”

“What for?” you asked, stopping in your tracks as you turned to look at him.

“Protection.”

You couldn’t help the way your brows furrowed, shaking your head lightly. “She…rarely left her home, let alone did anything that would require protection…”

“A lot of things have changed since you left,” Tommy replied, “Your aunt understood why she needed it, I wouldn’t question it.”

“I question a lot of things she did,” you replied with a small sigh, rubbing at your neck.

“Her last payment still stands, but once that runs out I would consider picking it up,” he said, finally moving to walk around you, “Just some advice. We were friends once, remember?”

“Yes, but if that gets dangled over my head enough times I may have to reconsider that,” you replied, catching the touch of a grin that crossed his expression before he turned around to walk away without a further word.

You watched him go for a few moments, biting the inside of your cheek before eventually starting to follow him out of the cemetery. Things had changed, you knew that. In what ways, you were quickly finding out. Yet, you couldn’t help the small pit in your stomach at what might be coming down the line. If Tommy would be right about the protection payments, you didn’t know, but the fact that your aunt of all people was giving money to the Peaky Blinders for safety was something she left out of her letters to you.

                                                          ***

The house was more or less a lot like how you remembered it.

Cramped, wallpaper peeling in some places, and the same water damage that had been there since you showed up at her door when you were thirteen. Yet, it was profoundly more empty. In feeling, at least. Some of your aunt’s items still remained, but it was clear that some of it had been cleaned up or cleared out. Still, for what some homes were like in Small Heath, it was decent. You could recall how often your aunt almost defended her home, that she worked hard to make it how it was. As a younger kid, that didn’t register much, yet you could appreciate it now.

Considering the places you might have been forced to sleep if she hadn’t given you the house, it was a relief.

Finding work again was going to be a question that’ll plague you, you just knew it. You knew how to work with your hands, sewing and the like, but also field work. The farm that had employed you last managed to hold on through the war, yet you saw that coming to a close long before it really did. Yet, that was…really all you knew how to do. You could stomach working outdoors more than you could sitting in a room with thread, the repetitive actions and pin pricks reminding you too much of your childhood. Way before Birmingham, at least.

Yet, it was becoming clearer that you really weren’t in much of a position to be picky. With only so much in your pocket to last you a couple weeks, you knew you didn’t want to wait until that ran out before you started to worry about money.

Not that your welcome back gave you much reassurance.

Though, just as the evening was dragging on into the night and when you thought Tommy’s prediction about his brother might be wrong, you caught a shadow cross by your kitchen window before there were a couple knocks on your door.

As much confidence as you tried to put forward, you couldn’t help but remain rooted to the spot for a few moments as you eyed the front door wearily. You knew these confrontations would have to come eventually, not just with Tommy and Arthur, yet somehow being snuck up on was easier to deal with than having to open the door for him. Plus, you had been closer to Arthur than Tommy the last time you saw him.

A part of you was…anxious to confront whatever changes might be there.

Still, you knew there was no point standing around and overthinking it. With a small sigh out of your nose, you crossed over toward the front hall and opened the door. As you suspected, Arthur Shelby stood there with somewhat raised eyebrows as the two of you seemed to take each other in for a moment. He’d aged, and you figured you had too, but he still looked enough like himself to put some relief in you. In that moment, anyway.

“I’m…I’m sorry if I don’t look as surprised as I should,” you said, deciding to be the one to break the silence, “Tommy warned me that you would show up.”

“So what he said about you bein’ back is true, then, eh?” Arthur asked, “Hearin’ it from you would’ve been nice.”

“I was getting around to it,” you said, having a hard time hiding the vaguely defensive tone that slipped into your voice, “I didn’t exactly expect both you and Tommy to show up today. Still…yes, I’m back. Whatever that means, I suppose. Do you want to come inside? I don’t exactly want to have this conversation at my door.”

Arthur wordlessly accepted your invitation, you stepping aside to let him pass before shutting the door. For first reunions, you had certainly seen happier, yet it could have been worse you supposed. Still, it was awkward, you gave him a bit of a wide berth as you moved around the side of your kitchen table. He seemed to be taking the house in for a few moments, despite having seen it a few times while you were growing up. And possibly later, if your aunt apparently paid the Peaky Blinders to watch out for her.

You watched as he lightly knocked his closed fist against the surface of the table, as if searching for something to say before he met your gaze.

“I’m sorry. About your aunt,” he said, “Happened very suddenly.”

“Yeah, natural causes. So I’ve been told,” you replied with a light nod, “Thank you. It is…different without her here.”

Arthur let out an understanding hum, letting that sit in silence for a few moments. You crossed your arms, leaning back against the sink.

“If you’re here to tell me about how things have changed, your brother got to that first,” you continued. “Including her payments.”

“Not the first time he’s done my work for me,” Arthur stated, the bitterness hard to miss as he shook his head, “Just wanted to make sure I heard him right.”

“...Missed you too, Arthur,” you muttered around a small huff.

“I’m not…mad ya left,” he said after a few moments, struggling to look at him but you could see the tension in his face, “Just…I got back and your aunt had this look on her face. A letter would’ve been nice, considerin’...”

You let that sit for a moment, a pit of guilt settling into your gut at the mention. It wasn’t like the decision hadn’t been without debate, your aunt pushing you to take the opportunity but to let him know so he didn’t come back to exactly what he came back to. Yet, you weren’t sure how to word that letter, or what exactly to say. You had been close, there’d been the odd insinuation, yet nothing was ever really said or solidified.

Still…

“I know. I should have wrote,” you replied with a soft nod, “I tried a couple of times, but I…I don’t know. I didn’t know what to say. I got to the new town and things picked up. I’m sorry.”

Arthur nodded, still not really meeting your gaze. You could see him turning that over, yet you didn’t want to push anything. It had been more than a couple years since you were last in Small Heath, let alone was in contact with Arthur or Tommy. You still didn’t really know how to approach the gap, if there was anything to bridge.

“I…” he started with another small sigh, before looking over at you finally, “I did miss ya, by the way. You’re back, so…I don’t know. Come by The Garrison, we can chat.”

“Yes, sure. I’d like that.”

With another nod and tight smile, Arthur said his goodbyes before leaving. You let out a slow breath once the front door shut behind him, pressing a hand over your eyes. It was hard to tell exactly…where you stood with anybody at the moment. Still, at least the sting of the initial reunions were over with–you hadn’t really talked yourself into believing they would be anything more than maybe bittersweet. Still, you supposed you were back. Time would tell where everything fell.

Still, the emptiness of your aunt’s home hit you stronger at the moment than when you had initially stepped through the door.