#like we got her ashes back while i was home and i was just holding the box like. wtf do u mean my babygirl is in here.

[doyeons]

i think maybe there’s a bit of misery swirling around in me

[sainamoonshine]

So I know the entire narrative in The Locked Tomb is like « oh ahaha Babs, what a loser » but I genuinely think that there might be something really interesting about him. Babs was the only person in the whole galaxy to know about Ianthe and Corona’s secret. And I’m starting to think that as much of a natural asshole he is, at least 50% of what we see of him in GtN is acting.

Let me explain: he is obviously in puppy love with Corona, and dismissive of Ianthe when Corona is looking. But privately, he is terrified of her. He knows she’s his necromancer and NOT Corona; this is proven when the Second challenges the Sixth, and Corona wants to intervene but Ianthe says no. Ianthe is 100% certain that Babs will do as she says, but Corona is actually surprised. And when he finds Corona duelling Gideon, he is scared and tells her that he will not tell Ianthe. I think Ianthe probably threatened him behind Corona’s back one time or a dozen. And I think Babs isn’t just protecting their secret, he might be trying to protect Corona from Ianthe’s anger too. Being the annoying go-between, the butt of the joke, the meat shield. On purpose.

Pay close attention to when he’s being a contrary asshole for no reason. A lot of it seems to come naturally to him, sure. But also: when Jeannemary finds the human ash and asks for Corona of all people to help her identify the deceased: he immediately redirects attention by being a mega-asshole. Corona ends up not having to do any necromancy; her secret is still safe. Similarly, later on in Dulcinea’s sick room, when everyone is having a discussion about necromancy: he makes a tetchy comment, prompting Corona to whisk him away like ‘oh ahah he’s getting hangry’. How familiar is this routine for them?

I think deep down, while he’s an arrogant dickhead, Babs isn’t evil. He’s shocked and appalled that Silas went and took Dulcinea’s keys, and I don’t think it’s because he wishes he thought of it first, as Jeannemary accuses. I think he genuinely thinks that’s dishonourable. And when Corona tries to stand up for the Sixth and Ianthe says no, Babs follows her order, but is pissed about it.

But hold on, you might say to me, five minutes later HE is the one to issue a challenge to the Sixth!! Yeah, after a tense stare-off with his necromancer. After, perhaps, coming to some conclusions of his own about the Third house’s chances regarding the key situation. Ianthe herself says to Corona: you need a facility key. This is your only chance. Might be that Babs figured something similar!

When Harrow answers the call, his face is frozen in a look that’s both cautious but trying to look though. When Jeannemary jumps on the table, he immediately backs out. Without waiting for Ianthe to call him off. He tries to play it off, but Babs is pretty consistent on NOT wanting to fight the teenager.

In conclusion: the dude is a dick but I think he’s got honour and he is stuck between a rock and a very hard place. AND he fights Ianthe after the lyctoral process for a surprising and impressive long time!

Also: lmao when he jumps off the table he mutters ‘should have just stayed home and gotten married’. Okay??? Babs what’s that about? 👀

[fazedlight]

Confusion (Late S6 vibes. I found a use for William… I’m sorry?)

The Catco elevators opened to a chaotic scene as Lena stepped out. Despite being afterhours - it had just passed 6pm - employees were shuffling around everywhere, with frequent murmurs and occasional shouts flying by.

“Looking for Kara?” Nia said, passing by Lena while holding a large stack of papers on the brink of falling. Lena opened her mouth to speak, but Nia didn’t wait for an answer. “She’ll be back in a few minutes, I think she’s meeting with Andrea.”

Lena nodded as Nia quickly disappeared into the backrooms. Guess this is normal when they crash the issue, Lena thought, making her way to Kara’s desk and setting down the mocha and pastries she had brought from Noonan’s. She had been lucky to get there just before closing, after Kara’s text that they’d have to skip movie night in favor of a late night at work.

“Lena,” came a deep voice behind her, “What are you doing here?”

Lena turned, nodding to William as he approached. “Just bringing Kara some stuff,” she said, gesturing to Kara’s desk. “Late night for you too?”

“Yeah,” he said. “Hopefully the last, before I move back to London.”

“You’re moving?”

“Looking forward to going home,” William said. “I’ll be leaving in a few weeks. Just enough time to hand off my responsibilities at Catco.”

“Going back to The Times?” Lena asked.

William nodded. His eyes drifted to the coffee and sweets, and Lena noticed a tinge of confusion. “I best get going,” he said, not remarking on what he was thinking. “The senator’s fraud case means I have an article to rewrite.”

“Good luck,” Lena said, as he waved and left. Lena turned back, finding Kara as she rounded the corner with Andrea. Kara met Lena’s eyes, and the blonde smiled wide.

---

“You smell like smoke,” Lena said, brushing ash off of Kara’s shoulder, eyeing the charcoal hues that tinged her supersuit.

“A forest fire will do that,” Kara said, practically shaking like a dog to get other ash off her hair. “Luckily we got it before it spread very far.”

William glanced over curiously from where he was jotting notes. He had been working with Alex and Brainy on mapping out city hotspots when Supergirl had arrived back from her firefighting. It hadn’t taken long for Lena to make her way out of the lab and go up to the super.

“I think we gotta spray you down,” Lena teased.

“Brainy said the nanobots can handle it,” Kara said, tossing her hair back. “I just gotta deactivate at some point.”

“Yeah, you gonna get around to that soon?”

“Will you two knock it off?” Alex said, her voice aggrieved. “Some of us are trying to get work done.”

The two had the good sense to look a little bashful, and William glanced over curiously. From his side, he could hear Alex mutter “just good friends, my ass”, and he watched as Supergirl threw her head up towards Alex, flushing slightly, and seeming suddenly unable to look a confused Lena in the eye.

This is going a bit too far, William thought, eyes darting to Lena. Flirting with Kara? And Supergirl?

---

“Well, it’s been great working with you,” Supergirl said, extending her hand.

William returned the gesture, then doing similar with Alex, and J’onn, and Lena. “Please do keep in touch,” he said. “I’d love to hear from you when you’re back in London.”

“Have a safe fli-” Supergirl suddenly turned her head.

“Something going on?” Alex asked. 

“Bank robbery downtown. Might be a big one,” Supergirl said. “Safe flight, William. We’ll see you later.”

William nodded as Supergirl left, J’onn and Alex following. That left him behind with Lena, who didn’t frequent the field unless magic was afoot. Which left him a bit grateful for the chance…

“Well, William-”

“Don’t break her heart, Lena.”

Lena’s brows furrowed, utterly perplexed. “What?”

“I see you,” William said, a serious expression on his face. “The way you flirt with Supergirl. The way you flirt with Kara.”

“Kara- flirt-” Lena’s eyes widened.

“Look, they’re both clearly interested in you,” William said. “All I’m saying is be clear with your intentions. Kara doesn’t deserve a broken heart.”

“I don’t have intentions. With- with either of them,” Lena answered.

William’s face tensed with skepticism. I’ve said my piece, he decided. “It’s been great working with you, Lena.”

---

William tilted his head back against the plane’s headrest. The 5hrs from National City to Metropolis had been annoying enough. Now it’d be another 6hrs to London. I hope I can get more sleep this flight, he thought, glancing out over the Atlantic Ocean. 

He looked down at the gossip rag he had purchased in Metropolis Airport, beginning to flip through it. It was mindless garbage, hopefully boring enough to lull him to sleep. 

As he turned the pages, he was surprised to find a picture of Kara Danvers and Lena Luthor - but then again, it was only a matter of time. It’s just so fucking obvious, William thought, wondering if the tabloid suspicions would force Lena to choose.

But he was also unsettled - it was an odd location. To any casual reader, it would simply be a random picture on the street, the two perhaps on the way to get a cup of coffee. But he knew they were just feet away from the Tower. A location that, according to Alex Danvers, Kara had no awareness of.

He stared, and stared. Would Lena be so foolish to ask Kara to meet there?, he thought, knowing the Luthor was too smart to make such a casual mistake.

That’s when his already-jetlagged brain began to scan Kara again. The blonde hair. The emphatic voice. The way she fiddled with her glasses. The way Lena flirted with her, just like- 

Wait, William thought, startling awake with a shot of adrenaline. Wait, WHAT?!

---

It was early morning when Lena took her seat at a lab bench, her mind still swimming from William’s observation the day before. Have I really been that obvious?, she wondered to herself. Does Kara know? And if she does, she hasn’t said anything because… 

Lena put her face in hands. God, I hope I haven’t been making a fool of myself.

“Are you okay?” came a voice.

Lena’s head popped up, finding Kara wandering into her lab, a hint of concern highlighting the blonde’s face. “Your heartbeat is fast,” Kara said, “I just came over to - to see if something was wrong.”

“I’m fine,” Lena said, her voice a high-pitched squeak.

“Lena,” Kara said, taking a seat next to Lena, pulling her into a hug. “Lena, I’m here.”

Lena sighed, relaxing into Kara’s arms. What am I so afraid of?, she thought to herself. That Kara doesn’t feel the same way? That our friendship will change? While the first was the only likelihood Lena could really see, the second… just didn’t seem like a real possibility. 

Lena pulled back from the hug, gazing into Kara’s face. Didn’t we learn we should be honest so long ago?, she thought. Even when it’s hard? “William… said choose,” Lena said slowly, feeling the heat rising in her cheeks, “Between Kara and Supergirl.”

“Choose?” Kara said, confused.

“I’ve, er,” Lena swallowed harshly. “I’ve apparently been flirting. With both of you.”

Kara’s eyes widened. “On purpose?”

“No…”

“Oh.”

She sounds… disappointed?, Lena thought, and she knew Kara could hear her heart beginning to pound a little faster. “I- I can do it on purpose? If you want.”

And this time Lena felt a growing joy in watching Kara flush. “I’d like that. And, um,” Kara paused, shifting shyly. “Maybe after we do that for a while, I can ask you on a date?”

Lena smiled. “I’m looking forward to it.”

------------------------

This idea has been floating around in my head for a while. I did do a 9-word fic for it - but then I figured hey, may as well write out the full thing.

[ashwhowrites]

hello ash, your writing is lovely!! i was wondering if i could request reader being in subspace after a night out with a guy who didn't give her aftercare, so roomate!eddie makes her feel better? just like taking on the role of caretaker and telling reader that he'll keep her safe and just tucking her in and giving her cute, chaste kisses?

(this is totally self indulgent cos i was sent home after no aftercare and had to do it myself)

Aftercare has my heart. That's one of my favorites parts about being intimate with my partner, the pillow talk that comes after

Thank you for requesting! I hope this is what you wanted and you enjoy it <3

Small fluff blurb

Y/N tried to hold back her tears as she slammed the door. She cursed herself for even leaving the bar with that guy. She should have known a random hookup at a bar wouldn't be romantic or respectful in any kind of way.

She scoffed as she thought about how he rolled off of her and told her to be out by morning. The way he didn't bother to see how she was, just closing his eyes. He had the nerve to go to sleep while she sat there naked and vulnerable.

She felt alone, scared, and used. All she wanted was to feel good. But now she couldn't help but feel like an idiot. She felt like she did everything wrong and she wasn't even worthy of being taken care of. Was she a burden? Was it too much to ask for a soft cuddle afterward?

~~~

She freely cried once she made it into her apartment. She slammed the door and ran off into her room.

Eddie was on the couch, a hand in a bag of chips when she ran past. He sat up worried, he dusted off his hands and followed behind her.

She was on her bed, lying on her side as she curled into a ball. She sobbed into her knees, her small dress riding up. Eddie could see the beginning of small hickies forming on her thighs.

"Oh, pretty girl." He cooed, walking over to the side of the bed. He kneeled, his face close to hers. He used his right hand to softly pet her hair.

"I don't wanna talk about it." She sniffled, and her red eyes looked at him. She looked so scared and hurt.

"Then we won't talk." He said softly, he stood up and removed his sweatpants. She watched him confused but didn't say anything. He gave her a trusting smile and took off her heels. Then he slid the sweatpants up her legs.

She sniffled but could feel the tears stopping. The comfort of her bare feet against her warm blanket. The softness of Eddie's sweatpants on her bare legs. Eddie grabbed her hands and helped her sit up. He nodded to her dress, and she got the hint. She reached behind herself and unzipped the dress, she stood up and let the dress sink. She stood in a bra, but Eddie's eyes stayed on her face.

"Good girl." He said softly, the praise warmed her stomach as she felt a small smile on her face. He walked over to her drawer and pulled out a small shirt.

"I'm going to turn around while you take off your bra and put this on, can you do that for me? It's okay if you can't." He asked, she nodded and took the shirt. Just as he said, he turned around but left his arm behind his back. His palm upwards gave her the chance to hold it if needed.

She couldn't help but melt at how nice he was. The way he was soft and easy with her.

"Done." She said quietly, she wasn't sure what she was supposed to do next. He turned around as she stared at him, blankly waiting for the next direction.

"Look at you! You did so well." He praised. "Let's go into bed and have some cuddles. I know you love cuddling before bed."

She nodded excitedly, moving onto the bed and slipping underneath her covers. Eddie turned off her lamp, crawling over her body as he settled next to her. He wrapped his arm around her, his lips next to her ear as he breathed against her.

The air hitting her ear and his arm wrapped around her made her feel safe. She didn't feel alone and she felt wanted. Why couldn't every guy know what she needed like Eddie?

"You're safe here." He whispered, he leaned forward and pecked her cheek.

And she believed him

Tags!

@bmunson86 @mxcheese @ladymunson @michaelfuckinglangdon @z0mbie-blah @biittersweet @mirrorsstuff @somethingvicked @micheledawn1975 @ago-godance @magnificantmermaid @tlclick73 @hargrovesswifee @cityofidek @manyfandomsfanvergentreblogs @silky-luxe @lokiofasgard616 @loving-and-dreaming @eddiemunsonsbitch69 @thegemaqua @ashlynnkennedy @strangerthingsstories5255 @harringt8ns @pleasinghellfire @whoscamila @stusdollface93 @gretavankleep37

[egberts]

we are finally home after a busy day. if you don't know already, callie passed away this morning. she fought so hard for the last month and held on for long enough that everyone who knows her and loves her got to see her and say goodbye while she was still in good spirits. unfortunately in the days leading up to this morning she suddenly rapidly declined again and we knew it was time. i won't go into the sad details but despite her condition she continued to love and be loved. she fell asleep in my arms leading up to her final moments, and we got to give her so many hugs and kisses. it didn't take long for the medicine to take her when it was finally time, she was already so weak. her personality has always been so quirky, it was hard to see her decline but she was still so full of love to the very end.

immediately after she passed alana and i went to a boardwalk nature trail and just walked for a while before going for ice cream (the cashier was incredibly nice to us, we must have seemed in need of cheering up because this was a theme of the day)

after ice cream we came home and cleaned up callie's things. vacuumed up some of the cat hair and packed away her furniture and the things we wanted to keep, we set aside some things for her memorial space, and we took everything else to the animal shelter.

just packing up her things was already somewhat cathartic but while at the shelter we decided to visit with the kitties and this was actually a very good idea. it was so bizarrely comforting, seeing and holding the small lovable kittens and realizing in a way that one day we will be able to get a cat as loving as callie was and it will be easy to fall in love with it too.

after the animal shelter, we had to swing by our house again to get the bulk pack of wet food that was delivered, very cruel irony there. it was a $50 box so i reached out for a refund and was given one pretty much immediately and told not to return the food, which gives us a reason to go back to the shelter on monday and donate this food too. (and visit more kitties of course)

we were probably keeping ourselves busy subconsciously, but it was good for us i think, because next we went to a state park and just enjoyed some time by the ocean. we saw so many crabs and even a heron came right up to us!

and you'd think that's the end of the day's adventure but no, after that we went to get pizza for dinner (because cooking is just not an option right now iykyk) and we saw a deer!! a freaking random deer after already seeing a random heron, it was just amazing.

finally we went to target to grab some necessary groceries as some kind of weird semblance that even though callie is gone life has to go on.

i am not kidding when i say every single other human we had to interact with today was nothing but kind to us. all friendly smiles. we didn't tell any of them what happened and yet every single one of them from the ice cream shop girl to the lady at the state park and even the target self checkout person. it was genuinely a beautiful day despite everything. it almost feels like callie's loving energy was just with us throughout the day.

i'm going to miss her so much, and knowing she's gone forever is very hard but i don't think i could've asked for a better experience with it. now it's time to finish up the last bit of cleaning and take a much needed shower.

after her urn and ashes arrive i'll post one final callie update, but as of now this is it. she is gone, resting in peace on the other side of the rainbow bridge. our sweet angel baby 💗

the cutest gradient trio ever btw

[sagephilosophie]

Private ⃟Chamber

༊ IZANA K.

᪥ꜱᴜʟᴛᴀɴ! ɪᴢᴀɴᴀ ᴋᴜʀᴏᴋᴀᴡᴀ x ꜰᴇᴍ! ᴄᴏɴᴄᴜʙɪɴᴇ! ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

༗ ꪻags ࿐

NSFW, historical AU, Plot twists, heavy kissing, unprotected sex, riding, fingering, no lube, mentioned war, mentioned bloody imagery, unresolved emotional tension, breeding, no aftercare, the dance sequence is based on this mesmerizing indian fusion choreography video by Irina Akulenko - i strongly suggest watching it first for better reading experience and visual layout.

༗ ᭙ord ᥴount ࿐ 2864 II AO3

A/N : This fanfic is pure fiction and is in no way, shape, or form, referencing any real life historic figures or events, this is just an au inspired by the theme and doesn't realistically portrait ancient sultanates. That being said, enjoy reading <3

Your eyes bore into the ground beneath you, every link from the carpet design was enough to keep you a shade of amused in a world where you were the amusement.

The creak from the door you were waiting beside, grabbed your attention and the other girls with you's, the eunuch of the harem rushed out, his heart in his mouth, instructing all of you one final time that day, "His majesty is ready! Again, girls, keep him entertained, just like we practiced. Do not mess up!!! or else i swear on my mother no dinner for ANY of you, if his majesty even spared your lives. Now GO!"

The long line of freshened women inhaled enough air to hold their breath briefly, each held her own hands, and mouthed prayers of her faith, your eyes could only believe in one item beyond the open door, truly valuable to your heart, for nights you forgotten rest, followed all the rules and learned the manners of a concubine to step foot into this very room and take a glance at it.

Your desires guided your feet closer to fill your eyes with the shimmering beauty, a fellow dancer for the night grabbed your arm in place, had she not, your neck wasn't guaranteed to stay intact for too long. The same pair of feet stepped back into position when the instruments hugged all the ears, empty wide purples inevitable to notice, paying you the most stares women from the harem would kill for, the dance began and your head only had one direction from every move and every step, with the same stares it takes to see how long it's taking to delude his consciousness that he was your goal, while you still scanned the darling worn on top of his hair.

Your every limb had followed that of your luxury prison mates' composition, all but your arrogant eyes calling for him to fill his deepest desires with the sight of you.

Not even the twirl could break the eye contact, resisting the split second of looking away, If your role was indeed only dancing for him you would be a dancer, but you're not, you're a concubine, and your job isn't done until an image of you got inked in his memory.

You dazed into your own hypnosis and thought that, had any other girl lifted her trembling face maybe they could have also noticed the phantom of a spiral motion in those moon orbs no living soul before you got the courage to read, he didn't have to lift a finger from his throne as his world was getting painted with the color of your eyes, between the same ones, your own world changed colors into a darker shade a second time, the sizzling of burning homes and screams of abducted maidens, your hometown burnt to ashes, him causing all from the luxury or his palace sitting in his throne similar to his current position, if he can see the fire in the reflection of your spheres, his magnetized brain will confuse it with passion.

Your life imitating art when you got down, the dance showing you more mercy by pulling you back up on your feet in less than no time, while observing his blank expression you put forth as final there will be no plan before echoing just that.

He doesn't have to realise the power he inherited was no match to the power you pinned him down with, the wavering of your waist and hand gestures worked him like a magic spell, and his parted lips ratted him out.

You glued your vision to your plans, resisting every call to quit the dance and strangle him, but that wouldn't go in your favor, for once, you needed the world to revolve around you, even just his world.

Your head spun and spun, doing its own shaking, setting its own tunes playing on with your nerves, the ordinary atmosphere reassured you weren't making any mistakes, not that you'll know, losing grasp of your body and of time, space, and matter.

Next thing you knew, the music died down and your eyes spoke to him louder and more clearly that now is his chance to have you, you tried to manage your breathing and stood in a straight line with all the other girls bowing down, peeking between your eyelashes to see him whispering something in the harem manageress' ears still looking at you.

With the servants escorting you all out, she followed and pointed your way, "You. His majesty wants you in his private chamber. Immediately."

"Shouldn't she get ready first-", Your caregiver saved the time you should be on your way in by interrupting the maid, "She's clean enough. Take her there now, that's an order."

The younger woman held your shoulder and changed your path, unknowingly to the one you wanted to cross from the very beginning.

Your pride thriving through your walk, everything is going with flow and soon shoving you into the jeweled beauty. The passed the final turn with your head held high in the presence of the royal guards, the maid speaking for you, "Open the door. His majesty called for her here."

You smiled openly when they obliged, feeding on the out of place power served to you in the smallest portion, the door closing behind you assured you this might all change, to earn your place back in society.

It made great sense to you that he himself was still not present after asking - no, ordering - for your very presence, you were one of the few poeple who knew how much he enjoys making poeple wait his arrival since your first meeting.

Like he heard you thinking of him, he followed into the room this time you both were alone for good, you turned to bow and left your head hanging low until his hand rised your chin to his face level, "Remind me of your name."

"I'm... whoever you want me to be...", your hand met his own, still holding your head up, and stroked it, "...Your majesty."

"...", the expression he glued on his face warned you, no matter how careful you are, the mystery behind those purple eyes never failed to make you tremble, "When we met before, tell me, you remember ?"

"Yes. When his highness chose me to become his woman... i could never forget that, i... dreamed of seeing you again.", you held on to his arm dearly and went on to winning his heart, "...i no longer can part from you for that long... i don't even know how i made it this far.... your highness, you feel the same, right ?"

"I remember you now, you were beautiful that night too, how could i not recognize those eyes.", his response got the sides of your lips perking up, he can't forget you, how perfect.

In a joyful moment, you fell into his chest and grabbed his clothed back tightly, he hugged you back playing with your hair, you took the chance to move your head to his shoulder and look up to him invitingly, the moment he fell into your trap, you hands moved to his cheeks and brought him down to your lips, warming his cold skin with your fiery one, freshly out of hell.

Your whole body went on an adventure to him; your hands roamed around searching for his own, your lips backing away from his ones chasing them, your feet dragging him to your own furnished paradise behind the curtained bed, as soon as he laid down, you got on top of him, "How i missed this... Izana~"

You stared at him without his crown, the man you met in the same place before he marked you as his favourite concubine, his white silky hair you ran your fingers through overnight, his tanned skin that warmed your bare body and touched every last inch of you possible, and his purple eyes, so empty, and so deep you could drown in them, they never changed, and neither did the way they made your chest heave.

"You're breathing so heavily, i'm assuming...", You gave a startled yelp when he grabbed one of your breasts, "...your knees are about to give in too, right about... now."

Just as he finished talking, the weakness from your knees brought you down, falling to your side next to him, "What-"

"You're sweaty.", he caressed your forehead, bringing his hand down to pinch your cheeks slightly and you swallowed in the realization he was right, "And so anxious. Why is that ?"

"I... y-your majesty... i- i...", your voice came out shaky and cracking, no more words agreed to answer him, which by itself, was the answer he needed, "No need. Your eyes spoke enough."

The familiar sensation was back when he pressed his lips against your own, your submission was a fatal mistake on your end, even in your tense state you had to pull yourself together, remind yourself that it took so long to get here, no risks are allowed to be taken, so you fought back for control over your intimate position.

Sliding your leg onto his torso, his fingers crawled down the hem of your robe, rubbing across your thighs, finally, touching your vulva. Into your mouth, he groaned as his index and middle finger played with you under the fabric.

You felt heated up from head to toe, exactly how Izana intended in order to get you done well for him to devour, he's already been getting impatient to the point of stealing tastes, too intoxicated to let go of your flavorful mouth, but leaving a spot in his heart for the main course of the evening, enjoying the quick slippery feeling between his fingerd, he took them out for his bare eyes to see, and leaning in deeper into your lips.

You gasped jumping out of the kiss, at the hand exploring the top half of your body, snatching his wrist in a matter of seconds, gulping down visibly, "Mm... Izana my sweet... why waste our lively night on somewhere so meaningless... everything you need is down there..."

His doubtful eyes searched the truth in yours, having became less confident than they were during your dance, but the beauty he spotted within shimmering light in their reflection, made him decide to let it slide.

By inspiration of your own suggestion, he grabbed on your waist instead, guiding you upwards towards his lap, it must be the favourite's luck to get away with all your slip ups so far and still have him want you, it was almost concerning how greatly you were treated for no clear reason in your eyes.

From your place you locked your lips back with his own, he could have begged for it had you waited, and struggled to hastily take out any of his garments in your way, moving away from his face solely to focus on lowering yourself down, sinking into him, your hands holding on to his chest, just like old times.

The magic of your touch handling him, you threw your head back and stared at the ceiling getting closer then far again, in a repeated motion, you happened to wonder if it's possible to get any closer, so the movements got faster and your brain deceived you of almost being there, voices slipped out of you from getting worn out, your conscience still trying to reach the roof.

"There. That is where the queen belong. On top.", your pupils widened, '...the-'

"I decided to take you as my one legal wife.", And there it was, the biggest shock you had inside the palace, there was no place for this happening in plan, your neck straightened and turned to look fixdly on him, bouncing on his erection without a stop.

No words have been uttered from either of you, just taking in the sounds of skin slapping and occasional moans. From your part, you really hoped he would finish his statement by asking if you agree, but no, he didn't need to ask, there was one option.

Your legs betrayed your body after a load of work, freezing down in your place, only your chest kept heaving, catching the breath to help you move even just a finger, the one who did help you instead was Izana, pulling you down from your arms into falling in his embrace, holding your lower back and caressing your hair, repositioning himself to thrust upwards.

You hold on to his shoulders tighter, the sweet noises near his ear must have turned him on that you could feel him getting harder inside you, "Imagine... as my wife... whatever you dream of... oh~ you will find beneath your feet."

That topic was starting to make you dizzy, it contradicted what you're living for and you weren't liking that, "My Izana... what if all i want is respect... or power ? Would you not marry me then ?"

"There will be no need for or, If the legal wife of great sultan Izana Kurokawa doesn't have influence over her empire, why should i have married her ? And i'll rip the throats of whoever disrespects you and put their head in the hallway you walk through. You will be my queen, treated like nothing but a queen."

You left his words roam in your head and kept quiet, kissing the cheek near you, focusing back on taking his size, you were getting sweaty while still clothed, from his skin holding tight to yours, he was also hot. The pleasure only intensified from that point slamming harder and harder into your entrance until you felt a twist in your stomach and moaned loudly while you came.

You got back up to ride him again, fastening your speed and holding on to your own hair, your eyes meeting the ceiling again, moving to keep reaching it up and down, listening to raspy groan before you felt sticky liquid between your legs, that's when you looked down to see he followed after you.

Sliding out of his cock as he took the back of your hand and kissed it goodnight, you were keft sore and facing his back, the quietness yelled in your ears, you sat in the bed staring down at him, you couldn't know for sure if he had already fell asleep or not, but took his stilled activity as a good enough proof.

As quiet as a mouse, you removed your top, carefully taking out the red dagger strapped under your breast, it was a risky place for a plan like this but you were told it's the easiest to carry on, had he insisted on showing all of your body attention, everything they prepared you for would have gone to waste.

Holding on to the weapon with dear life you brought it near your ear, but just as you were about to pull it down to his nape in clear sight, you froze in your place, many a time were you unable to carry on moving since you walked in the chamber, your arm won't come down and you began shivering, the tensity caused you to cry.

You weren't supposed to hesitate in stabbing the enemy, by now you should have been back home, announcing the sultan's defeat and bringing his head too with the crown that belongs to your poeple on top of it, and they will cheer, and make a statue in honor of the family you lost in the war, the war he caused. Everything is his fault. The misery of the civilians and of the royal family that took you in... these poeple didn't deserve their throne stolen, they raised when you had no one and even relied on you to take revenge on behalf of your community, and what an honor it was, all the torment from the harem was worth it knowing they trust you with a mission as important, thinking of all the women and children you would spare from this evil man, of course they weren't lying, why would they ?

Everything was going so smoothly... but where did you go wrong ? Why won't you kill him and get the only happy future there is for you ? Is it because... you considered a future with him instead... ? That you... actually did miss him since you were sent here...? What nonsense! Izana kurokawa is the reason you family died! ...now that you think of it, there is no proof of that, that's what they told you-

Are you going to bite the hand that raised you ?! OFF WITH HIS HEAD!!!!!!!

"I... shall serve your head in a plate... for my poeple..."

The dagger fell on your lap, in an attempt to end the job, you held your wet face in your shaky hands and wailed into them like you never did before, "Eh... i can't... i- i can't... do it..."

"Tell me everything."

"...Y-yes your majesty... anything- anything for you... i am *sob* at your... s-service..."

Maybe he knew from the beginning and maybe you fell into his trap, but one thing for sure is; your mission failed.

@sagephilosophie

[nyasiaaaaa]

In the Bleak Mid-Winter

Pairing: Thomas Shelby x Fem reader (Nurse)  Fem reader x Arthur ( platonic )

Summary: This is a story about two people who become constants in each others lives, and eventually fall for each. While one learns to love again, the other learns the cost of loving a man like him. 

Word count: 5k

Warnings: Cursing, angst, fluff ,Tommy Shelby, y/n eats ( If I missed anything or you think something should be added please tell me.) Major character death from season 4 episode like 1/2

A/N: part 1 takes place during season two, part 2/3 season 3 and 4/5/6 season 4. This is a Slow burn there will be smut eventually. 

Part 1  Part 2  Part 3  Part 4   part 5

********************

It's been a year. 

A lot of things have changed since then; you've changed. 

You're not the same person you were a year ago; you're still a nurse and still work in the hospital, but in London now. 

You know the other nurse in hospital like the last, you eat lunch together but never go out. They always ask, but you always have the same excuse. 

It's not like you're lying. You really don't have anyone to watch her, but if you wanted to, you could find someone, but don't. Honestly, though, you prefer the company of a bottle of whiskey over anyone else. 

You also never have the energy to do anything anymore; you wake up throughout the night, then wake up to go to work, come home tired from a 12-hour shift, and go to sleep to do it all over again. 

You barely eat, you barely sleep. 

When you look in the mirror, you're just a hollow version of yourself, like you don't have control over your body. You're just sitting back as it goes through the motions, as someone else controls you. 

She's not the only reason you can't sleep; if she's not waking you up because of her screams, you're waking yourself up with your own. 

These nightmares are so haunting that most times, after you wake up, you just stay up. 

And that's where you're at now, waking up from a dream like every other night. 

You thrash around in your bed and suddenly wake up coughing as you grab hold of your throat. You get up from your bed, covered in sweat, and walk downstairs to the kitchen, rubbing your chest as you catch your breath. 

You walk around the corner to the kitchen and instantly jump when you see someone sitting at your table in the dark. The old you would've freaked, grabbed your gun and threatened them.

But you now couldn't care less; you just grabbed two glasses and a bottle of whiskey off the drink table. You bring it over and set it down, pouring the whiskey into each cup, filling it halfway, and then sliding one over to your companion. 

You then sit down and take a swing of your drink before reaching for your pack of cigarettes. 

"Want one," you ask, holding a cig out to them.

They take it, and you pull out one more for yourself; you then strike up a match, reaching towards them to light theirs first; once they got closer to the flame, it became clear who was sitting at this table with you. 

You light the cigarette, then pull the match to light your own; you take a drag, hold it in, and then blow it out. You do this action a couple more times, and neither of you says a word as you smoke; you both just sit there in silence. 

You finish up your cig, put it out in the ashtray, then proceed  to light another. Again, you smoke in silence, but this time, as you're almost finished with your cig, you speak up. 

"I thought you would've sent Micheal," You say as you reach to ash your cig in the ashtray.

He finishes up his cig, putting it out before responding to you. "He was busy," he shrugs. 

"'M honestly, I would've preferred Micheal." You put your cig out and then took a sip of your drink.

"Well, looks like you're out of luck 'cause I'm here." 

"Yes, you are; please do tell me why it is that you're here after all this time." 

"We got served a black hand," he spoke with such seriousness, but you were confused. 

"Ok, am I supposed to know what that means or what it has to do with me" 

He took a deep breath and said, "We have to tighten house. We killed one of theirs way back, and now they're coming to get even." 

You pursed your lips and turned your head to the side, slightly shrugging your shoulders. "And what does that have to do with me." 

"They killed John." 

"May he rest in peace? "even though you didn't mean for it to, it had come out more like a question than a statement. 

"But again, what does this have to do with me," you asked

He let out a dry laugh, licking his lips, then got up and got in your face. He took hold of your wrist and bent down to your height. 

"Because the Italian Mafia doesn't care if you don't fuck with me, they are going to kill everyone that has ever spoken to me, anyone who's ever been close to me to hurt me to break me down before killing me."

Even though he tried to seem calm and collected, you couldn't see it in his eyes or face, but you could hear it in his voice. 

He was hurting. 

You ripped your wrist from his grip and stood up, moving closer to him and getting in his face. 

"Well, Tommy, it seems like you have a real problem on your hands; best of luck to you." You smiled at him, then stood up and began to walk away

Suddenly, you were pushed against the wall and turned to face him. 

"Look, I—"his speech was cut short once he heard a cry coming from upstairs; his eyes darted down to you, his head tilted as he looked at you. 

"Tommy, I-"you start but stop once Tommy pushes off you.

You tried to get past him to go up the steps first, but he pulled out a gun on you and pushed you back into the kitchen. He slowly took a step back as you took steps forward.

"Do it, Do it, Tommy. Be a man. Do it," You said as you walked forward; you held your head high as you spoke so there was no room for doubt on Tommy's part. 

He looked at you, puzzled, then shut the door in your face. You immediately rushed to the door, but it was too late. He locked it. You tightened your grip on the door knob as you jiggled it relentlessly, 

"Tommy…. Fuck— Tommy, please" You were starting to panic; you had to get to her first. 

You dashed over to the drawers and started to throw everything out and slam it shut as you moved on to the next one. The key was in one of these drawers; it had to be you had remembered putting it in here you—

You found it in the last drawer; you ran over to the door but slipped on the things you had thrown on the floor and fell on your back, making the key fall out of your hand. You hop on your knees, ignoring the pain in your back that grew with every move you made as you searched the now messy floor for the key; you can already barely see because of the darkness, but the tears that start to build only make it worse. 

Your hand brushed against something sharp, and you turned your head in its direction as you stretched your hand out again, patting it around. Your hand instantly comes in contact with the cold metal key. You grab it, rushing to the door. You try to place the key in the door, but it keeps brushing past the hole. 

You stopped, took a deep breath, and tried again, and despite your shaking hand, you were able to place the key in and unlock the door. As soon as the door opens, you ran up the step to her room. 

It's too late. 

You walk into the room and see Tommy holding your daughter in his hands. 

Without thinking, you say, "She's not yours." 

It's a lie, you know it, and so does he. Anyone could see from a mile away that she was his, and it's not like she looked like him or you even; she was still too young to look like anyone. But she had those eyes, the same eyes her father had. 

You look up at Tommy and know you are in trouble. He had just met her, and already he was in love. He was already hell-bent on taking you with him, but now that he knew of her, there was no way he was letting y'all go. 

You're about to speak up but get cut off by some men behind you.

"We're here, Mr.Shebly. What do you want us to do?" 

You didn't turn around to see if you knew the men; you just kept your eyes forced ahead on Tommy. 

"Pack up the house, everything; we'll go through it later and see what we want." He barely spoke above a whisper and never looked up as he slowly rocked your baby back and forth. 

"Oi sir and your car is ready when you are." 

"Thank you, curly." 

They left, leaving you and Tommy alone. 

You opened your mouth to speak but didn't know what to say, so you stood there like a gaping fish as you struggled to find words. 

"It doesn't matter what you say; tonight, you will leave here with me, and so will the baby. You can put up a fight, but we will drug you if we must." The way he spoke, you knew he meant it; there would not be a fight, you couldn't take on Tommy, let alone all the men downstairs.

 So you just nodded your head, ok. 

Satisfied with your answer, he proceeded to exit the room but then stopped and turned towards you. 

"What's her name," he asks. 

"Ruby" 

"Ruby," He whispers, "Hi. Ruby, grab what you want and meet me in the car," He says, then leaves and goes downstairs. 

You want to cry, tear the room to pieces, throw a fit, and just sit there and cry. But you can't, so you make yourself and your daughter a travel bag, packing only what you need and leaving the rest for the guys to pack up. 

You finish packing and head upstairs; you walk past the men packing up your kitchen and head straight for the car. Once you're outside, you see a man waiting for you by the backseat door; he opens it for you as you approach it. You walk up to him, handing off your luggage, giving him a smile, and thanking him before sliding in next to Tommy, who's still holding your daughter tight to his chest. 

The driver places your stuff in the trunk, runs over to the driver's side, and hops in, wasting no time. He takes off instantly, driving to a destination unknown to you. 

 You glance over at Tommy, who is still in awe at seeing your daughter. You don't even try to take your baby away from Tommy, knowing that he will hold her as long as he can. 

So you sit there staring out the window, saying goodbye to the place you've called home for the past year, and try not to cry.

************************

For a long time, you were confused; you knew this wasn't the way to Tommy's house. It was east, and you had been heading west. You were about to ask where you were going, but then you started to recognize your surroundings, the shops you've walked past hundreds if not thousands of times. You even saw some people you knew past patients. 

You were back in Birmingham. 

Soon after you cross the line into Birmingham, it doesn't take long for you to reach your destination; you pull up next to many small townhomes. 

 Before you  get the chance, your door is opened for you, thanking the driver as you step out and observe your surroundings.  

"Where are we, Tommy," you ask. 

"We're home," he says simply, then starts making his way into one of the homes. 

You follow closely behind him as he steps into the house; you take in your new surroundings as you follow him; there are steps directly in front of you and a living room to your right that leads Into a kitchen. As soon as you step into the living room following Tommy, you're greeted by a maid who cut you off as you are about to ask Tommy another question. 

"Welcome back, Mr. Shebly. I set Charlie down for a nap upstairs a few minutes ago and just put dinner in the oven. Do you need anything else from me before I go" 

"No, Mary, that will be all thank you."

"It's not a problem, Mr.Shelby," she said, then went to leave but suddenly stopped at the door. "Oh, and I've had a bassinet put upstairs per your request." She gave both of you a tight smile, shutting the door as she exits, leaving you and Tommy alone. 

Tommy doesn't say a word as he turns away from you and walks upstairs; you're about to start looking around when a knock comes at the door. You get to the front to open it and is greeted by the driver, who has your bags in hand. You reach out, taking them from his hands and setting them to the side before giving him a smile. 

"Thank you so much; hold on, let me find my purse to pay you," you say as you step away from him in search of your bags.

The driver quickly stops you in your tracks when he calls after you using a name you've never heard associated with you. 

"Oi, that's quite alright, Mrs.Shebly; Tommy pays me good," he said, giving you a smile, then shuts the door before you could even correct him. 

"Ok," you say yourself as you shrug it off; you turn around just in time to see Tommy walking down the step, and you notice that your daughter is no longer in his hand. You assumed he must've put her down upstairs in the crib Mary set up. 

Once he gets down the steps, he immediately makes his way toward the Living room. He sits down in one of the chairs, and you decide to take a seat across from him. 

He pulls out his pack of cigs, offers you one, which you accept, and then takes one for himself. His lights yours first, then his own. You take a couple drags of your cig, then begin asking him a million questions you have swimming around in your head. 

"How long do we have to stay here," you ask as you blow out smoke and then take another drag. 

He shrugs his shoulders as he waves his hand around in no particular manner, "for however long it takes." 

You press your lips tightly and roll your eyes; you take a deep breath and let it out as you speak again, "Are we staying here with you."

"Yeah" 

"Is it safe?" 

"Yeah, you will have two guards stationed outside 24/7." 

"And where will you be?" 

"Out" 

"So Tommy, let me get this straight: I'm supposed to stay here for who knows how long, under constant surveillance from your men, and I'm assuming I'm not allowed to leave." You paused, waiting for an answer, to which he gave you a slight nod back. "Right, so basically, I'm a prisoner; I'm your prisoner. I'm not ok with that, Tommy. I-" 

Arthur suddenly burst through your door, calling out for Tommy. 

"Oi Tommy, I- "Arthur paused once his eyes landed on you; a big smile slowly crept up his face as he started making his way towards you.

"Sista, it's good to see you," Arthur said as he hugged you, picking you up slightly. 

"It's good to see you too...... I'm so sorry about John," you said as you hugged him back, and you were being honest. You didn't miss anything from your old life, but Arthur. After all the years, y'all were around each other. He truly started to feel like the brother you never had. 

Arthur pulled back from you slightly and looked you in the eyes; you gave him a tight smile, then pulled him back closer and hugged him tighter. 

Arthur pulled back again as he asked you a question, "Oi, I heard I had a niece. Where she." 

Before you were able to answer his question, Tommy interrupted you. 

"Are you two finished yet" You heard Tommy ask from behind you, making Arthur drop you. 

"Sorry, Tommy," he chuckled as he stepped further from you. "There's been an incident down at the boat house; we need you down there." 

"Thank you, Arthur; I'll meet you outside," Tommy said, then went into the kitchen to gather his things. 

Arthur gave you a small smile and whispered a quick bye before heading outside. 

You turn to face Tommy, who is putting on his coat; you see his collar sticking up, so you go over to him to help him fix it. You grab onto the jacket and pull him in close to you. 

"When will you be back?" You ask as you pat down his collar.

"When I'm finished" 

"That's not cool, Tommy; we have things we need to talk about." You grab on his collar and tighten. 

He gave you a look that you could only describe as assumed, then pulled you off him, holding your wrist in his hands. 

"And we will when I get back," he said, dropping your wrist and walking away. He suddenly stopped and turned around to face you. "Watch Charlie for me," He said with a tight smile, then reached for the door. 

You are so fed up with his bullshit that you pick up the first thing your hands touched and throw it at him. 

"Fuck you, Tommy" You screamed at him as the glass cup left your hands. 

Your aim is ass, so the cup smashed against the wall next to him, missing him by a couple feet. But still, it stopped him in his tracks; he stood there for a second, then turned around to face you, gave you a smug smile, then said

"You already did love." 

He quickly went to the door, leaving you there standing there stunned. 

You're so mad at him for coming into your life (again), picking you up, and dragging you into his mess (again). He constantly treats you like gum on the bottom of his shoe, and you're tired of it. 

You have this anger building up inside you; you're so mad, so you do the only thing you can think of. 

You scream.

You stand there and scream; you yell out towards the ceiling; you scream till your lungs start to burn. And then you collapse onto the floor. 

How did you end up here again? You thought you finally got away from this life. 

Before you had a chance to wallow in your self-pity, you heard a cry come from upstairs. You get slowly and make your way up the narrow stairs. Once you get upstairs, you notice there are only two rooms upstairs, one the bathroom and the other the bedroom. 

You enter the bedroom and see Charlie still fast asleep on the bed, the only bed, you might add. Your baby cried from her bassinet, and you went over, picking her up and rocked her  back and forth in her arms. She must've heard your scream and got startled. You were really loud; you're shocked that Charlie didn't wake up. 

You were able to get her back to sleep quite quickly; you placed her back in her bassinet and walked out the door back downstairs. 

As you walked down the steps, you started to sniff the air around you; it smelled like something was burning. 

You took off sprinting towards the kitchen once you remembered the dinner Mary said she had placed in the oven. You yanked the oven open and reached in to take the pan out. 

You jump back, saying a million curse words as you immediately pull your thumb in your mouth. You are so out of it that you forgot an oven mitt. You suck on your thumb for a couple of more seconds as you glance around the kitchen till your eyes land on the oven mitt. You grab them off the counter, head back to the oven, and pull the pot, placing it on the top of the stove. 

You open the pot, and to your surprise, it's a chicken roast dinner, and it's not that burnt, only a bit; really, it just looks extra crispy. 

You place the top back on and glance down at the clock next to the stove; it's barely a quarter past three. 

You decide to let the meal cool down, you get your bag from the door, and put it up where you see best upstairs. 

After you finished unpacking what you had on hand, you pre-made a couple of bottles for your daughter and then joined Charlie in the bed for a little nap after scooting him over a bit. 

That boy sleeps wild.

***********************

You felt yourself being shaken back and forth softly as if it was too hard for the person to push you. You open your eyes slowly and squint as they try to adjust to the dark; you look around the room in search of the person who worked you up, and soon, your eyes land on the smaller version of Thomas Shelby. 

The little boy turned his head to the side as she looked at you curiously. 

You sat up on your elbows and took a quick glance over to the clock next to you; it was seven on the dot. You turned back and looked over at Charlie, who was still looking at you.

"Yes, Charlie," you asked. 

"I'm hungry; where, Da," he asked, rubbing his eyes with the back of his hands. 

"He's out right now; I'm here. Is that ok," you asked; he nodded slowly in response.

"Ok, good, I have some food downstairs for you; we just have to get the baby up and well go, ok." 

"Baby?"

"Yeah, come look." You stood up, grabbed him, placed him on your hip, and showed him the baby below. 

"Who that" 

You thought about your answer before you responded to him. You didn't see the harm in telling him the truth, so you said, "She's your sister; her name is Ruby." 

He turned up to look at you so quick that you thought he gave himself whiplash. 

"My sista," he gasped and then tried to reach down to touch her.

"Yep, but wait, be careful, I'll put you down, and I'll grab her and show you." 

You put him down softly and then pick up your little girl; she begins to stir as you gently pick her up. You turned to see Charlie sitting waiting patiently with his feet swinging off the side of the bed. 

You sat down next to him and turned your body to face him; he glanced down at the baby, up at you, and down at the baby again. 

"Wow!" He said, then jumped down from the bed and took hold of your hand.

"Come on, me and baby hungry," he said, leading you downstairs. 

Once you got downstairs, you had him sit at the small table in the kitchen, and you kept Ruby in your arms as you fixed him a plate and then yourself. You warmed both plates on the stove and grabbed a pre-made bottle from the fridge while you waited. 

You sat down next to Charlie and offered him a proposition: "You want to feed her with me." 

He shook his head up and down so fast and tried to reach out to her. 

You pulled away from him slightly. "Wait, I'll hold her, and you hold the bottle, ok?"

He nodded and waited for you to give him the bottle; you showed him how to hold the bottle at an angle best for the baby and then let him take over. 

He reached over you slightly as he held the bottle to Ruby, and she took it instantly, drinking fast. 

After she was finished, you took her back upstairs to sleep; when you came back down, your food was finished warming, so you took both your plates out and cut up the food for him before handing it to him. 

Together, y'all both sat at the table and ate in silence.

"Are you my new ma" 

The piece of chicken you placed in your mouth instantly went down the wrong pipe, and you started to cough, your eyes began to water as your chest tightened. You reach for your glass of water on the table as you beat against your chest. 

As you drank your water, you glanced over at Charlie, who had started playing with his food. You cleared your throat a couple of times as you rubbed against it and drank more water, then set the cut back down next to your plate. 

You smack your lips against your teeth as you begin to speak. "Umm, w-what makes you uhhh what makes you say that." 

Charlie shrugged his causal shoulders, still glancing down at his food. "You're staying here with me and da; you sleep in the same bed as me and da and your baby’s ma." 

You tilted your head to the side, a puzzled look dancing across your face; you leaned down closer to Charlie and asked him a question, "You're four right." 

"Yep," he said, popping a piece of chicken in his mouth. 

"Um, yeah, no, Charlie, I'm not your "new" ma, and if I was, I wouldn't be your new ma, just another one, ok. Cause you ma Grace will always be your ma." 

He didn't say anything back to you, just nodded back slowly; it was clear that he was full now and probably was sleepy again. You assumed that you both had a long day of travel and these significant changes would take a second to get used to. 

You took both plates away, deciding that you were also finished eating; you quickly cleaned the plates and placed them in the drying rack. After you put the pot of food in the fridge, you pick Charlie up, take him upstairs with you. 

By the time your foot hit the last step, Charlie was somehow fast asleep; you brought him into the bedroom and carefully placed him down in the middle of the bed. You grab the covers, bring them over his body, and tuck him in slightly. 

After you check on your baby and find her still fast asleep. You decide to go back downstairs and sit in the living room to wait for Tommy; he should be home soon; he has been gone for hours now. Whatever he had to work on should be done by now……. Right?

.

.

.

You feel your oxygen supply getting cut off, and you start to struggle to breathe; you try to turn your head but to no avail because whatever's is on top of you is keeping you in place.

You begin to panic as you realize that you are asleep and have to force yourself away to be able to deal with whatever is keeping you from breathing. 

You feel your fingers begin twitching, then your eyes, and finally, after what seems like forever, you're able to open your eyes.

You squint your eyes as you try to help them adjust to the darkness, but it's still pitch black; you soon realize that the reason you can't see isn't because it's dark but because something lays on top of you. 

You lift your hand cautiously as you slowly lift Charlie's body off your head and back into the middle.

You lay there for a second as you try to catch your breath, then slowly, you sit up to check on your daughter, seeing as she has yet to wake you for a bottle tonight. You take a quick peek over into her bassinet. 

She's not there. 

You quickly shoot up in a panic, thinking your eyes are playing jokes on you, but once you get closer to the bassinet, you can confirm that she is not in there. 

You try to take deep to calm yourself down, but it gets caught in your throat as you slowly begin to spiral, and your mind starts to race with a million questions.

Where is she?

How could I not hear someone take her? 

When did I get up here? 

.

.

.

Wait, you pause for a second and try to think back to tonight. You didn't get in the bed. You remember waiting on the couch for Tommy; you must've fallen asleep, but how did you get up here?

Your head quickly pans over your shoulder, and in the bed next to Charlie, you see Tommy and your daughter lying on his chest and a half-empty bottle on the nightstand next to him. 

Relief floods your body as you slowly sit back down on the bed; you look back over at Tommy. The sight before you is truly something; if Tommy wasn't the devil reincarnated, it might make your heart swell. But instead, you're sitting there contemplating whether or not to get her off him and place her back in her bed. 

She seems fine, and there isn't much room for her or Tommy to roll around plus the risk of having to deal with her waking up in a sour mood if you move her isn't something you feel like doing right now. 

You lay back in bed next to Charlie, deciding to leave them be. 

As you fall back to sleep, instead of counting sheep, you tell yourself repeatedly.

That this is just for now and that

Thomas Shelby is in your past and not your future. 

***********************

Tag list:

@thhriller@macchiadinchiostro @naevisct @johnmurphys-sass @fannibalsrule @mysticalbouquetwolf-posts @sis7890

I apologize if y/n having a kid is a huge turn-off for some people, mainly because there isn't any warning, and we're so deep into the story. I wanted it to be a surprise, but again, I'm sorry. Also, this isn't the last part. There are two more, and then that's it; I broke it down because I felt like having everything In one or two parts would've made it seem like Y/n and Tommy's end result would become too quick and not in a organic way. Also, I've been told this story gives dead doves don't cry or something like that; it's not, I promise, a happy end or as happy as person can be with Thomas Shelby. Anyways, thanks for reading. The story should be finished and fully uploaded all parts by Friday, Feb 9th.

P.S: I can't tell if this chapter is shitty or not I was just trying to get it out for yall so I'm sorry if it is.

[lxversharkss]

( LIL P ! )

warnings : one swear word , platonic! ashtray , fez and reader are dating

a/n : in love with the sibling relationship ash and reader have.

requested : no

summary : ashtray and reader buy a dog and try to hide it from fez

ashtray rolled his eyes as you held the dog close to your body, as if you were cuddling it (which you were and had no shame in admitting that).

but when he held the dog all his ‘tough guy’ acts dropped and all he wanted to go was take him home.

so that’s what you did.

“what should we name him?” you mumbled, as you stroked the adorable puppy.

ash shrugged, “i dunno. maybe, lil p”

“lil p?” you questioned, holding back your laugh.

“yeah , stands for little pup” ash told you, taking the dog off you and into his arms. “don’t like it?”

you smiled softly, looking at the boy you considered your son brother. “I love it”

the sound of the door unlocking filled both your ears, you turned to face each other with wide eyes. neither of you asked fez if you could get a dog, ash whisper-yelled, “what do we do?”

“uh - go hide the dog in your room and I’ll put all your stuff in the bathroom closet, he never goes in there.” you explained.

with one quick nod, you both split up and done what you were supposed to. after, ash was sitting on the sofa and you quickly jumped next to him.

fez came into the room, “hey ma” he placed a quick peck on your lips with a smile. “hey , ash”

ash nodded at him , to focused to the sound of little steps in the background.

“be right back.” he told the two, before going into the bathroom. “uh, y/n. why is there all dog stuff in the closet?”

“I don’t know.” you called back.

ash turned to you, “we need to get lil p outta here.”

“why? lil p is fine in your room.” you shrugged it off before turning back round and seeing the puppy on the floor , right by your feet. “ash? why didn’t you shut the door?”

the boy stayed silent, the sound of the toilet flushing filled the room as you quickly (but gently) grab the door and hide him behind you. ash smiled with a playfully roll of his eyes, while you acted like the dog wasn’t there.

“yo, ma.” fez said , “what the fuck is that dog doin here?”

“what dog?” you acted clueless.

ash received a look from fez that made him exclaim, “it was her idea!”

“you snitch! he named it.”

“you paid for it”

“you tricked me into getting a dog.”

“no I didn’t , it was all your idea.”

“no , you said ‘let’s got to the pet store’ to just look at some dogs when you knew how much I wanted one.”

fez just sat there with an amused expression .

[wtfsteveharrington]

can we please have something soft and domestic with sydney! we need more content with her

a/n: this is just a lil blurb while i continue working on my actual syd fic <3

contents: mentions of kissing and intimacy but this is just soft and fluffy and delicate is the best way i can describe it.

Sydney and Carmen have a system - She takes Monday off and he takes Tuesday off. That way there’s always at least one of them there in case of any major issues. It works well for them. Gives some sort of work/life balance… Even if they still spend part of their days off concerned for the restaurant. At least they aren’t physically there. 

So, in turn, every Monday night is date night for you and Sydney. 

Sometimes you two spend the whole day in bed. Getting food delivered from the never ending bucket list of restaurants around the city you both wanted to try followed by a grocery delivery to make dessert at home. It was an indulgent day to say the least.

Other days, like tonight, the two of you took the time to get dressed up. She always stood next to you by your shared vanity to help make sure your eyeliner was even, a mess of giggles each time one eye got away from the other. "Sisters not twins, right? I think it looks good either way. 'Sides, helps me if you go in public lookin' a little crazy. Keeps people away from hitting on you."

Sydney always liked to wonder around the house while you finished getting ready. Sure, she knew your closet. Knew the general idea of what you'd end up wearing. But there was something about the surprise of your final look coming together that always took her breath away. She grabs a hold of your hand, gently spinning you around to get a full look. "Damn! Maybe we should have kept your eyeliner looking wack because this is - You look gorgeous."

And the two of you have to be careful because compliments lead to kissing which leads to you to being late for reservations you certainly cannot be late for.

She's got an Uber pulling up to take the two of you down to the Gold Coast - Maple & Ash. You bounce between cheerful small talk with your driver and watching the shops on Rush street go by in a blur. Making a mental note that someone at your job had mentioned there being a bakery right around here and that you needed to check the hours to see if you could take Sydney tonight.

You know it's a cliche, but there's something about Sydney ordering for you that makes your heart flutter. She knows your palette, knows everything you love and what you hate. Some of the ingredients on the menu are lost on you so her taking control is so welcomed.

The two of you always share your plates. Sharing what you both consider to be the best bite of each meal, wanting the other to have that experience. Sometimes Sydney quizzes you to see what flavors you're picking up and she's getting a little too proud watching your taste buds grow the way they have since you got together.

No matter what, the nights always end the same. Sydney holds your hand tight during the car ride back to your apartment, her thumb trailing along your skin. Mindlessly and comfortingly. Even if you're wearing the most simple of shoes she always makes a show of taking them off for you. Letting her hands slide up once they're taken off and message your calves. Sometimes her touch doesn't stop, hands sliding all the way up and taking care of you in the ways only she knows how.

But tonight you're both tired and the relationship is settling into more of this cheesy domestic bliss all your friends tease the two of you about.

So Sydney takes off your shoes and helps you get undressed while you grab pieces for the both of you to wear. The two of you stand shoulder to shoulder in the bathroom while you clean your faces and apple skincare. You found this face mask last week you'd been waiting until tonight to try with her and Sydney realizes she forgot to get more floss and asks you to add it to the group grocery list note you guys keep together on your phone.

She sits between your legs on the couch, curled up on your chest as your fingers run a circuit along her arms, her sides, her hips and her thighs. Any inch of skin you can get a hold of. There's a movie playing in the background as you both stay embraced. And maybe the two of you miss the second act because you're too busy kissing. Maybe the major plot twist is getting spoiled in the background while you're whispering 'I love you' to one another.

Neither of you mind.

[t3ag3rs]

g e n s o - 0 1.

↪element is translated to genso in japanese, therefore y/n's nickname/future hero name is "element"

"wait up you guys..!"

the h/c haired girl yelled out of breath. "you're running too fast!" you stopped and put your hands on your knees steadying your breath. those two boys are so fast..! i cant even keep up!

"genso! hurry up! we have to be first in line for the new all might action figure!" exclaimed the ash blonde boy, katsuki bakugou, otherwise known as kacchan. "im coming!" you exclaimed picking up your pace to be beside him and the other green haired boy, izuku midoriya, otherwise known as deku.

"im so excited to get the new figurine!" deku exclaims happily, you laugh in agreement. the trio slow to a stop as they go inside the shop and find the display. "mommy! lets get it! pleaseee? i wont ask for anything else!" you begged, pointing at the shelf as deku and bakugou walked to the register with their moms following close by, getting ready to purchase the toy.

m/n grabbed the toy, "i dont see why you shouldnt get it" you smiled widely and gave her a hug repeatedly thanking her as she bought the toy. you and the two boys were smiling out of happiness, "hey kiddos lets take a picture!" exclaimed mitsuki holding up her camera. you got in between deku and bakugou and let out a big smile as the two hugged you.

well... more like just bakugou. he wouldnt even let poor deku wrap his hands around you. to him you were all his and no one else could be with you.

whats bakugous, will always be bakugous.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

"genso!" you turned and looked at bakugou, "my mom said to invite you and your mom for dinner tonight" you smiled enthusiastically, "really?? i'll tell my mommy!" you ran over to your mom and told her what bakugou told you. she smiled and agreed, so you ran over and told him you would be coming. "well.. we best head home now kacchan so I can shower and come over, i'll see you in a bit. byebye!" you wave and grab on to your moms hand walking away.

bakugou smiled triumphantly, "hey old hag! genso's coming over for dinner with her mom tonight!" he yelled, "KATSUKI BAKUGOU IF YOU DON'T STOP CALLING ME THAT I'LL PERSONALLY GO RETURN THAT FIGURINE" she screamed, unfazed at how he had invited you without her permission.

it wasn't the first time anyway.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

you rang the doorbell and waited eagerly for bakugou to open the door. "oh hi there y/n and m/n! please come in!" mitsuki stepped aside and you walked in. you took off your shoes and placed it neatly in the corner, "wheres kacchan?" you ask looking around. "the brat should be around here somewh-" "GENSO!!" bakugou came running up to you and hugged you, taking both you and both parents by suprise.

you blush slightly, " h-hi kacchan..! " you hug him back, he pulls away and grabs your arm dragging you to his room. "lets go watch some all might footage!" you smile as he drags you away.

"looks like my little brat has a crush on your daughter m/n.." mitsuki chuckled, m/n just sighed and added "young love.." which caused both parents to laugh to themselves.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

you sat with bakugou on his bed watching the footage and making comments about how awesome all might is. "im gonna grow up and become a no. 1 hero just like him!" bakugou commented while punching his hand up in the air. you giggled at his action, "me too!"

bakugou turns to look at you, "your so lucky you got your quirk early! i can't wait for when i finally get mine!" you grin, "well whatever it is, i'm sure it'll be great!" bakugou jumps out of the bed, "wait here, i have something to give you!" he opens his drawer and pulls out a bracelet he made with the colors from all mights costume. you gasp, "you made that for me?" he nods as he puts it on you.

"theres the letter of your first name, a heart, and a 'k' for my name to show that i made it for you!" he exclaims, you blush and give him a hug. "thank you kacchan!" he blushes and stutters, "y-yeah, yeah.. whatever idiot..!" he pulls away and grabs another bracelet and puts it on himself. "now we can match!" he smiles and you giggle.

soon after a bunch of all might footage, mitsuki and m/n walk into bakugous room to find you laying on bakugou as he hugs you. both your parents look at the adorable sight and take photos to show you two later. "look at their wrists!" pointed m/n, "so thats why the brat was making bracelets!" smirked mitsuki, she prepared to tease him about it whenever he woke up.

m/n gently picked you up and grabbed your shoes. "we'll be going now.. thanks for the food mitsuki.. tell bakugou we both said bye!" mitsuki walked your mom to the door and waved bye as you two walked away.

her brat had a crush on you!

"oh that brat wont ever stop hearing about this!" she chuckled.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

a couple years later.. (12 yrs old)

you stand there shocked holding your acceptance letter from icaru private junior high academy. i actually got in..!

your mom and your dad congratulated you, and started texting all your relatives to tell them the good news. you were happy.. of course you were. you had just gotten into the academy you've wanted to go to for years! but that meant you wouldnt be able to go to school with bakugou and deku anymore. the amount of stress on the academics would also leave you with no time for hang outs with them.

you sighed as you facetimed both of them, mentally readying yourself to deliver the news. "why am i in a call with pathetic deku, genso?" snarled bakugou, you kept your mouth shut. it bothered you how much he had changed just because deku didn't have a quirk. "i need to tell you two something.." you paused.

"i got accepted into that academy i've been ranting about" deku smiled, "thats great y/n! congrats!" you smiled, "thank you izu..!" you looked down sadly, "but that's not what i called about.. you see, i won't be able to go to school with you guys and hang out as much now..."

bakugous eyes widened, "what?! are you kidding me genso!?" you shook your head sadly, "oh no.. y/n.." muttered deku. "i just felt like i should've told you two before i left.." you fiddled with your nails. "my last hang out will probably be this saturday, if you guys arent busy please come, okay..?" you let out a sad smile.

"of course y/n..! anything for you!" you smiled and deku left the call, leaving you with just bakugou. "and you..?" you asked. he had been concerningly quiet during the entire conversation. "i'll come but it'll be after fucking deku leaves." he ends the call, and you sigh out, blinking back your tears.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

deku came by with his mom and gave you a all might plushie to remember him by. he stayed for an hour and left after giving you a hug and wishing you luck at your new school. you sighed out, one friend down... one more to go.

bakugou came by shortly after that with his mom. you opened the door and was immediately brought into a bear hug by mitsuki. "good luck at your new school hun'. i know you'll do just fine, you're a sweet girl, anyone will like you." you smiled and pulled away looking at bakugou.

you waited for mitsuki to walk away and took bakugou up to your room. he sat down on your bed and stared at you. you sat there in quiet until he finally broke it, "do you really have to go..?" he asked quietly. you sat next to him, looking at your hands, " my parents want me to go.. i need to make them happy bakugou.. "

he handed you a printed photo. you grabbed it and your eyes started watering.

it was the photo of younger you and bakugou sleeping on each other with the matching bracelets on your wrists. "i thought you should have somewhat of a reminder of us before you go.." he mumbled.

you turned and hugged him, crying into his shirt. "i don't wanna leave you guys here and be at a new school by myself..!" he just hugged you back, trying not to show how upset he actually was. "i don't want you to go either genso.. but this is what's better for you and that's all i want."

"HEY BRAT WE GOTTA GO!" screamed mitsuki from below. you wiped your tears and stood up. "genso" he called, "promise me you'll get into UA so we can be friends again." you looked at him, "i promise i will" you repeated.

you both walked downstairs and bakugou and mitsuki left, leaving just you and your parents there. "i'm gonna go back to my room.." you mutter, heading upstairs. you sit on your bed and look at the picture of you and bakugou.

right there and then you swore to yourself you would work yourself tirelessly until you got into UA.

and that's exactly what you did.

previous part(s): pt. 00 next part(s): pt. 02 / pt. 03 / pt. 04 / pt. 05 / pt. 06 / pt. 07 / pt. 08 / pt. 09 / pt. 10 / pt. 11 / pt. 12 / pt. 13 / pt. 14 / pt. 15

[yeyinde]

okay wait now we need a second version where the reader does leave with ghost and he walks her home and he's all shitty about the drunk flirting and she's like "bruh it was just flirting, if you would make a move i wouldn't need to make you jealous" 😌

ask and you shall (eventually) receive~ 🖤

i hope you enjoy this!!

"What? He's been keekin' you all night." There is a divot between his brow. When he turns his head, the fairy lights behind make his stubble look darker. "Yer aff yer heid!" Soap’s Version

It's all words. 

Thin, hollow: they're empty ones bereft of meaning. They roll over you—a gale rocking you from side to side until you're dizzy with that awful little thing that clings to your pericardium, refusing to relent.

Hope. 

Yearning (in English this time, if only just for him).

It clots there, taking root until you're a little queasy. A little unwell. The alcohol, perhaps, or—

He sits by Laswell, head angled down to murmur low in her ear about things that shouldn't matter right now when everyone is alive, and safe, and back together. But of course they do. They always do. 

You wonder if they ever rest. If they ever take a moment's reprieve from the endless death and carnage that bulldozes your life until it's in shambles. Until the only thing that remains is broken chunks that reek of smoke and petrol. 

It feels impossible. 

He hasn't looked up once, despite whatever nonsense Soap might be on about. Untouchable. A chasm. 

Ghost is a shoreless island in the distance. Rocky and steep. 

Sometimes, if you stand on the furthest point of the beach, you can almost see the land peeking out from under the sea. Hazy. Shrouded. It sits amid the crashing waves, out of reach from everyone. 

Soap pulls you back in, a few clipped words shared back and forth, and everything else melts away. This is easy. 

This, being: drunk on expensive scotch (thank you, Captain Price; and oh no, thank you, I don't don't want a cigar) as you share snapped banter in a small pub. Vacant, of course, save for the six of you, and the barkeep. A man who offers little more than a nod at you when you mutter about the washroom, and swats at Price when he comes for peanuts and pretzels. 

It's easy to pretend, you think, that the honeycomb eyes, a bashful grin, and hands that feel like the sun are what you want. 

Easy, and yet—

You wonder if he's had anything to drink. 

(You wonder if he'd keep his gloves on while he held you—)

You snap something at Soap, something you hope is witty and charming, and maybe if you play your cards right, you won't end up alone in a foreign land tonight. That, maybe, he'll let you close your eyes, and pretend—

It's ground out, raked through coals. "Soldier."

He makes you dizzy. Makes you want, yearn, makes you—

It falls into nothing, until your head is full of him: blood hell, Christ—

Never said I wasn't. 

It feels like more of a reprimand than anything else he'd tossed your way thus far. A warning, maybe. Don't get too close. You know what you're in for. 

Don't make him into the fairytale he isn't.

"And you, soldier?"

You're drunk. Too drunk. Head gummy and full of sin. 

"Should leave," you say, casting a glance toward the mosaic window. A cross hangs in the distance. An augury. "Maybe go to church." 

"Aye, lass. Think someone ought to get you home. Lt?"

You pull the last swallows in your cup before Soap has the chance to take it away from you. Liquid courage, you think, wilting under a black stare. A looming, uncharted island in the distance. 

"C'mon," he says, words a shade away from being a command. "Haven't got all night." 

You don't point out that it's nearly three in the morning—devil's hour in the company of a ghost—and wisely hold your tongue when Soap leans down, whispering: you can spend the night with me, hen.

"We're leaving." A growl, now.

It jars you. His voice is unlike anything else you've ever heard: gravel and ash; gunfire booming in the distance. It sits low, like the words are dragged up from the depths of his chest, and sounds like smouldering embers. 

Your hands shake around the glass. It knocks against the wooden counter when you set it down, a hair too hard. You're crumbling. Slipping into waters that have no bottom. Rough, frothing. The white foam clogs your throat, drenches in you until you're weighed down, and sinking fast. 

In over your head. No way out. The island is too far away.

His eyes are sharper than you've ever seen them. A yawning abyss. You wonder if something would snap at the tips of your fingers if you got too close. 

Soap brows sit arched on his forehead, mouth thinning into a small line. "Alright, bonnie?"

"Gonna go home," you smile, tired. Wobbly. "Gotta get some sleep. Maybe next time, though." 

Ghost's stare has never felt so heavy. 

You stumble out of the pub behind him, pointedly ignoring the glance Gaz sends in your direction—the phone in your pocket already buzzing with texts that will make you whimper in the morning (saw you with Lt, mate. What the fuck? I mean what the bloody fuck?). This is normal, you think. Everyday. Mundane. Saturated in the ordinary. 

Except—

Sometimes, your life doesn't make any sense. How you can go from coldly planning a man's—mens—murder to walking down the wet streets of Glasgow, head full of your Lieutenant.

The church peaks in the distance. The light spills, bathes it in yellow. The tolling bells call you an idiot. 

Your head drops, eyes skirting toward the indomitable man beside you. Idiot, indeed. You can't help yourself, though. He's a magnet. A beacon. 

A current sweeping you out to sea. 

He says nothing. Hands tucked into the pockets of his black jacket, hood pulled down low. Those haunting eyes roam the corners, surveying the alcoves: always ready, always on-guard. 

It's a stifling thing, this silence. Oppressive. Crushing. 

Your throat itches with the urge to shatter it, to break it down until there is nothing left of it. Where it can't echo inside your chest like the brutal burn of rejection, and doesn't make your mind reel, an endless spiral of why and how and—

What can you do differently to make it a reality? 

No man is untouchable. Not really. There had to be others in his life. A man like Ghost—

It's just impossible, isn't it?

Does he go to a brothel when the urge wells? A pub? Does he have dalliances with other agents he'd met in the field? Ones with battle scars, the taste of gunfire on their breath, and firm hands on their rifle? Is there someone already waiting at home for him, tucked inside a place no one else can reach them? The only inhabitant on an island in the middle of the sea.

What is his type?

And how can it be you?

Queries. Questions. They burn through you. 

What if you just went for it? Is that what he likes? Someone who looks him in the eye, and says take me, I'm yours. 

You open your mouth to ask, but are stopped in your tracks by the stare fixed on you. Breath caught in your throat. Lungs bereft of air. You splinter. 

"S—sir…?"

"What?" It's harsh when it's ground out of his teeth. A snap. 

"Are you angry?"

His eyes slide down to you, lidded and heavy. "Negative." 

You huff. "Lying to me, now?" 

"I've been called many things, Rookie, but a liar isn't one of them."

The grit in his voice makes you tremble. Makes a heat spume inside of you, not unlike the scotch from earlier. 

Or—

Maybe it is the scotch. Your head is a slurry; a mess. The world around is shrouded in a sheen, a gloss, that makes the lights smear, and the cobblestone below quake under your feet. 

"Are you—" jealous feels too strange in conjunction with Ghost. To the man who, as close as he is beside you, has never felt further away. Stupid Soap and his stupid words. 

"Am I what?"

You mull it over. Let the word sit between your incisors to gauge the fit of it. It doesn't quite fit when you roll it around. Doesn't belong together.

(Like him, you.)

You stifle it.

He makes a noise, impatience, perhaps, and the word leaks into their terse air between you before you snap your jowls shut. 

"Jealous?"

His eyes slide to you again. The whites glow under the street lamps. "Jealous?" 

You feel a little silly. A little stupid. You blame it on the scotch. On Soap, and his keekin' you—

But—

You feel the words pool on your tongue, but you can't stop them from trembling out. 

"I could have went home with Soap—"

"Why didn't you?" 

It stings. The rejection hurts something fierce, but it's swallowed down. 

(In for a penny…)

"You pulled me away. I could have been fucking him right now, and instead I'm wandering around Glasgow—"

Tonight feels as good as any to get your heart wrecked. Loose lips sink ships, after all. 

"You might be fucking him, pet," his voice is a snarl, a feathered growl. "But you'd be thinking of me."

It punches into you, and makes you gasp, aloud; the sound echoing over the wet brick surrounding you. Your feet stutter when it's ground out, left to rot in the air. You jerk your head up to look at him, eyes wide. Heart-hammering in your chest. 

He stops, too, hands now hanging by his sides, curled into loose fists. His chin is tipped down, liquid eyes boring into you. 

You—

You've never seen a sight more damning. One more ready-made for ruin. 

He makes you feel a low grade fever burning in your veins. Stupid, intoxicated. 

You don't know where to go from here. Thinking of me. He's right. Of course, he is. It feels like a fractured mess when it tugs on the corner of your lip, a slowly unease smile. Distance, you think. You're an island far away from hurt. 

Rejection. The brutality of his words—they can't reach your shores. 

"And you'd be at home, getting thought of but not fucked." It's shakier than you'd wanted it to be, words a slow tremble. Then, a whisper: "You wouldn't even know."

"I would." He takes a step, another. His stare never wavers. "Just like I knew the first time you touched your little cunt to the thought of me. Couldn't look me in the eye for a week, pet."

"That's—"

It's true. You remember the time—all of them—and the realisation that he knows (he knows, he knows, he knows) burns into you. A knot of discomfort pools in your core. 

There is embarrassment, of course there is. Shame, too. 

But you're too drunk, too blootered, to think straight. Too raw, and cracked. You're a vanishing island. Water lapping at your inlands. 

More hollow, thin words: "why did you take me out?" 

"I gave you the option," he corrects, his voice is flat. It carries at the end, and leaves no room for any argument or protests. 

It's true, after all. 

You drop your chin, hands shaking. It's a bludgeon to your gut. 

(How can it be you—?)

Stupid. 

The false bravado quivers under his stare. A step backward flattens your spine to the wall of some long-closed Tandoori shop. The bricks are still wet from the rainshower that fell earlier. The cold dampness bleeds into your flesh. Goosebumps prickle. 

More liquid courage, you think, hands balling into quivering fists by your side. 

You lift your head. In for a penny, right? 

No island is truly unreachable. No man, either. 

All of this— something —with Ghost is drawn together into this single moment. The distance. The uneasy feeling on the nape of your neck when he's behind you. The want. He's been keekin' you all night. You look over and catch his stare. Feel it on your skin like a brand. 

(Ready-made, always.)

It all has to mean something. It has to. 

"Is that why you stare at me?" 

His eyes are embers. The glow from the streetlights make him look like smouldering ash. Demonic. It thrills you. 

"No, pet." 

He leans in close, his body a shadow over yours. A tower. You can't see anything except the fill of him spreading out around you. Black. Endlessly so. Your perpetual night. The embers spark, blazing, when he bores into you. A wildfire in the distance. Atavistic fear brims. 

Stay away from the fire and the being that can hurt.

His hand presses into the concrete beside your head. There is nowhere to run. 

"I stare at you because I keep thinkin' about those little fingers trying to fuck yourself silly, and how desperate you must be knowin' it isn't enough." 

You shiver—a whole body chill that has your teeth chattering together at the punctured words that drip, tainted with your demise, from his mouth.

The air in your lungs is noxious. It spumes inside until your knees quake, threatening to drop down into that unfathomable abyss that gapes below. The yawning maw of a man who wants nothing more than to sink his teeth into you until nothing remains. Rucked into the currents, it sends you careening out to sea until your fingers cling to the side of that untouchable island, begging for respite. Salvation.

It's a plea, a whimper: "you should have asked to take me home."

He offers none of it. His hand stretches out, and in the cup of his palm, he promises only ruin.

You shouldn't take it. Don't make him out to be the fairytale he isn't.

But the look he levels you with, ravenous hunger tucked inside the tenebrose of those spiralling depths, has you reaching out. A moth to a flame. The roar of the Styx in your head. You can't resist.

(You wouldn't even try.)

"I already am."

—Gaz regrets sending the text when he wakes up the next morning to a detailed commentary on all the ways his Lt absolutely ruined you

— he refuses to look either of you in the eye for weeks after

—this is completely irrelevant and feel free to roast me for it, but! my hc of a jealous!Ghost depends on where he's at in the relationship

—in the beginning: he doesn't trust, he does his job, and he's distant; but if he feels it, he'll close down. total distance. silence. he's mean about it, too. waspish. he'll try to push you away. cold hearted bastard to a T.

—but later?? oh, boy. that's when the Looming™️ starts. the, oh hey lemme go talk to that cutie over there - oh, wait. what the fuck that is that thing behind them and why does it look like it wants to eat me alive?! he's still mean, of course, but now he has a reason to snap. a reason to stand as close you as physically possible so everyone knows just who you belong to. and if he catches you flirting, i mean. rip, b. 🥹

[grapejuicestyless]

No One Wants To Die In The End.

Harry Styles x fem!reader

Summery: United through grief, Harry and Y/n have to navigate the same fates they witnessed as young children as understanding adults. After all, no one wants to die in the end, we can only hope death comes easy for us.

“Has anyone ever survived beyond the death rattle breathing?”

I hear my mother ask in a hushed tone, the nurse who came to send my grandma away giving her a tight lipped smile.

I sit on the bed pretending not to be able to hear them, pretending the sound of my grandma choking on her own saliva is normal and the staggering of her breathing between heavy wheezes isn’t concerning while I tell her all about what I learned in fourth grade.

She doesn’t remember me, not much anyway. Ever since the illness started taking pieces of her brain, I’ve been stuck in time. She only knows my name now, and my mom warned me on the way here today not to cry if she couldn’t even remember that. It was her illness forgetting, not my beloved grandma.

Mom says she loved me with all my heart, and that once the illness passes through her, she’ll remember me again fondly. I’ll get to tell her all about my life and growing up and she’ll understand what I’m talking about. She won’t give me the blank stare she does now while I hold her hand, and her skin won’t be so frail.

“We usually recommend getting everything in place by the end of the day. Gather her papers and say your goodbyes. We can’t guarantee anything with how much longer she’ll hold out for.” The nurse says, and though my mom doesn’t cry, I can see her skin hugging her throat constricting it and the soft fluttering of her wet eyelashes.

My mom pulled me away soon after, telling me to say goodbye. This time felt different though, even at age nine I knew that. So I told my grandma I’d be back, even if I wasn’t sure just because it always made her smile, and I promised to keep dancing around in my pajamas before breakfast like she loved.

That day at school, the one after I left my grandma with hundreds of promises to live freely and trust with my heart, I found my mother sat out on the front steps by our old white porch with her head in my hands.

“Hi mama. Can I go to Megans?” I had asked her cheerfully, excited about seeing my best friend, my neighbor and my sister.

Mom had this sad look in her eyes, one that told me to come close without her having to say it. And as I stood between her bent knees and felt her hands on my hips, I saw her shake her head.

“Y/n/n, grandma didn’t make it, baby.” She declared softly, and at the time I didn’t know how to process it, the idea of someone being gone forever. As mom told me how she had only left for a minute to go home and shower and came back to my grandma unresponsive in her sleep, I didn’t think about the fact that my grandma’s laugh would fade with the years, but rather how sad it was that she had to go alone. I prayed selfishly under my breath that I would have someone’s hand to hold when I went, that my rotting body would mean more than any shower ever could.

I didn’t tell mom this, my feelings on the death of grandma, the death of her mom, so I did what I knew how to do best, and I ran, begging softer this time to be able to go across the street just until dinner.

When I got there, I was greeted by Megan, and she looked sad. That’s how most people in my life seemed to look these past few hours, ever since the way my grandma breathed changed.

She pulled me into a hug and cried on my shoulder, promising to be there for me always, that it would get better. At the time I didn’t get it, why my best friend as a child would feel so much grief for a woman she barely knew, how she could feel so much more than I did, but grief hits differently in every person, I wished that someday I’d be able to process it openly instead of suppressing it somewhere I’d never find it. I wished that someday I’d learn how to cry.

Grandma didn’t get a funeral, they stuffed her ashes into a pretty vase with golden birds and her favorite flowers and held the wake early in the morning. Most of her friends I’d never met. It was a small service, a slow one. I spent most of my time playing hide and seek with my cousins and stealing the mints the funeral home left out for guests while my mother cried shaking each guests hand.

“How should we send out the letters?” My mom whispered to my father quietly, like it was something she didn’t want her children to know about.

“What’s the difference? Word spreads fast about people like him.”

People like him, that’s how my dad worded it. People like him, veterans who fought in a war they couldn’t even remember by the end of their lives and refused to replace the old wood paneling on their living room walls from the eighties.

My grandpa was the definition of people like him, he had lived enough lives to grow in white hairs by fourteen years old. Fighting alongside Elvis in the war and dancing with his dying wife in the afternoon.

I never met grandma, my dad said cancer took her before I was born, he says that’s why my name is the way it is, she picked it. But, I did meet grandpa.

He had white hair and a soft stomach from all the Swedish meatballs he made in his spare time. War does funny things like that to a man, make someone so against cooking love the simplicity of it, the safety of food consuming him.

I never really liked his Swedish meatballs, I didn’t like how he made them without sauce, when I was ten my world revolved around marinara sauce.

When I was twelve years old, I remember missing the softness of my grandpas stomach when he hugged me and the lingering smell of Swedish meatballs in his kitchen at dinner time. Which was weird because I never liked it before, but maybe my nose had changed while grandpa was changing in his own ways.

Cancer seemed to run in the family, something that was so small nobody ever suspected it was invading their bodies until the doctors became frantic to get it out.

My grandpa has bright white hair before his treatment, and small silver glasses perches on his swollen nose while he sat in his old brown chair and watched his grandkids school plays through the CD’s my parents would send him.

What a lonely life to live as he got older. The death of his wife and the absence of his grandchildren as they became less and less interested in family time and more focused on running outside freely with their friends.

I was so sidetracked I didn’t even know when grandpa died right away. Not until my father sat down on the coffee table in front of the couch where I laid with my mother rubbing his back slowly, a heavy look on his wrinkled face.

“Grandpa passed last night, Harry. He loved you very much.”

I didn’t cry as my father spoke, simply nodding before walking to my room to toy with my baseball cards and gameboy. I didn’t cry thinking about his passing, which confused me because I was twelve. I understood what death meant and how there was no one who had the power to reverse it, but I felt incapable of crying.

I went to school the next morning like my parents hadn’t told me the news, and my history teacher pulled me out into the hall during second period. He looked sad for me, his hands on my shoulders as he told me he would give me all the time I needed, not to try snd jump back into normalcy during such a tough time.

It made me feel embarrassed, which felt weird considering the context. I felt fine, completely indifferent to something I should have been breaking down over. But I guess grief is weird like that, and I wish I had the strength to be weak.

Grandpa had a big funeral, open casket with formal attire. He didn’t look like grandpa with all that makeup on him. I wanted to open his eyelids to see the colors in his eyes one last time. But that’s unacceptable to do, so I simply kneeled by the casket and prayed for him.

A big black limo took us from the boiling hot church to the graveyard where uniformed men loaded their guns and fired at the sky in honor of my grandpa. The smoke smelled like the low tide at the beach, and some people I’d never seen before sobbed a few rows behind me.

A lot of people showed up for grandpa, veterans from around the country and school friends from when he still had all his youth. Looking around at the crowd, I hoped I too would be able to make such a big impact on so many people. I selfishly prayed under my breath that one day I’d too have a large funeral. That people would care enough to come and cry for me because I would matter that much.

“When did you find out?” Harry asked softly, his large hand capturing mine in a paw-like grip over my knuckles.

I swallowed, wondering when I suspected it in comparison to when I finally got the guts to ask someone for help.

“I’ve known for a while, probably since I was nine. It runs in the family, you know? All these health issues that eat away at our brains?” I laughed, but neither of us found it funny, not when I ran my fingers through my hair to calm down and chunks cane out between my knuckles.

“I just thought I’d be gifted more time, thought biology would be kinder to my bones.”

Harry looks at me with a broken stare, one that hits me in the heart. We both tear up, but neither of us cry. We are our parents, we are the spitting image of them sitting us down to break the news. But at least they went peacefully, right? I know no peace, but still I don’t cry for myself, I feel too pathetic to even try.

“Did I do something wrong?” I ask, looking bitterly at the youthful green eyes in front of me, how his curly hair seems even more vibrant than nearly a decade ago. He ages backwards and I am already one foot out of the door.

Harry shakes his head.

“You did everything right.” He tells me, fingers pulling the hair from my hands to hide it behind his back.

“Then why do I feel like I have?”

“Nobody wants to die in the end, Y/n/n. It’s a game of chance, each day we live we gamble on how long we have left. Some people search for that end and others stumble on it accidentally, it’s just the chances.”

When he puts it like that, it makes me feel even worse, knowing how quickly I’ll be gone. How I’ve failed my future children I’ll never get to have, my husband who would have loved me I’m sure, and my poor old dog who waits by the food bowl only to find it empty each day I’m gone.

“I don’t like these chances.” I laugh with tears in my eyes, hands holding onto his as our forehead touch, my best friend holding me like no one ever has, not even Megan, who had long grownup into a woman I barely knew, a friend who drifted from me when we were thirteen and cried to her mother about how she missed me when she was sixteen.

Megan held me when my grandma died that day when I was nine, and I was confused as to why she was so sad, but with Harry holding me now, I understand it all better.

“I’m only twenty nine, Harry. At least my grandmothers dementia took away the intense pain of remembering what she was leaving behind.”

“And she lived not knowing who her daughter was for the rest of her life. She must have been so alone.”

I look down at my lap, my palms still pressed against his.

“I’d never forget you, even if my memory starts to go. I’ll never forget you because you’re too important to forget.” Harry smiles when I say that, pulling his hands away from mine to tap his chest quietly.

“And I’d never forget you, even when I’m old and crazy. I’ll keep photos of us on my walls and talk to them when I get bored.” He promised me, the dull light from the sun making the once lavish room feel less like a clean living room and more like a cold hospital.

As the months pass, my hair has been traded for one of Harry’s favorite hats. My shirts switched out for backless gowns with blue dots on the paper like material. My arms are not decorated with the same ink as Harry, but wires and tubes that come from the table beside my hospital bed.

I am twenty nine, but I must look about sixty now with how tired I am from simply trying to steal back the life that was ripped from me unfairly.

And as I fight to keep up with the beeping of the monitors hooked up beside me, I feel my throat rejecting my saliva and my sick coughs stuck behind my teeth.

I heat the same cracking sounds that my grandmother made when I was nine, and I feel relaxed knowing now that it doesn’t hurt to breathe this way, not right now anyway.

And in the silence I can hear an echo of my mother’s words from outside my door, her feminine voice exchanged for the deep one I’d grown rather fond of.

“Has anyone ever survived beyond the death rattle breathing?”

Harry asks in a hushed tone, the nurse different but her answer just the same.

“We usually recommend getting everything in place by the end of the day. Gather her papers and say your goodbyes. We can’t guarantee anything with how much longer she’ll hold out for.”

It’s happening again, the spirit leaving my bones to join everyone I’ve ever loved before, my father and my grandma. My mother and my old cousins. I only wished I didn’t have to leave Harry behind, I wished I could dance with him in our college dorms just one more time like we used to, and set fire to the box mac and cheese just one last time.

I remember everything about Harry, the nurse warning that my image of him might waver as my blood begins to slow under the skin. She tells him not to worry when my skin gets cold, it’s natural for people to cool down as their heart gives out.

Harry comes in and holds my hand, pretending the sound of my breathing doesn’t bother him and the sound of me choking on my own saliva is normal and the staggering of my breathing between heavy wheezes isn’t concerning while he swears to every single higher power he can think of that I’ll be okay.

And I believe him.

Because while he holds my hand in death, he’s fulfilled the one wish I prayed so hard for a a kid. The one selfish wish I made for myself in a time of need.

When I was nine, standing between my mothers legs with my nails between my teeth I prayed selfishly under my breath that I would have someone’s hand to hold when I went, that my rotting body would mean more than any shower ever could.

And here Harry was nearly two decades later, holding my hand and promising serenity in the afterlife.

What he doesn’t know is that I am one of the lucky ones. Even after my heart has stopped, I am given one last gift as an apology for such a short life. I am given an extra second of my brain living on, the soft cries of “I love you’s” from Harry the last thing I hear as my dying gasp is cut short from my death rattle breathing.

I have a small service, Harry and some college friends standing in line shaking the hands of the few guests who walk by to look at my body. My nephews and nieces play hide and seek with each other until the ceremony was over, mints stuffed deep in their pockets as they filed out of the funeral home like nothing had happened.

Being famous is weird, especially after a loved one has passed.

We send out prayers to the families of those affected, the media says, but how has the death of this person affected Harry? How has Y/n’s slipping away crushed him beyond belief? Will he dedicate his next album to her?

They don’t care about Y/n, they only care about how she makes a good headline for their companies, and it makes me sick to think about. How they profit off of my grief while I try to stop memorizing the sound of her broken sigh as she went.

I wonder if I was enough for her during her final days. If my touch was enough to cure her for just a brief second.

It’s no wonder I turned to move-on pills. Ones that lift me up and break me down further until I am face up on the bathroom floor we once shared, my eyes wide as I choke on my breathing and count how many times the lights multiply as I look up to the sky.

It’s not a shock that the headlines are out by the end of the day, the sirens enough to alert all of Hollywood of my dying dreams and my perfect execution.

My family stands in a line while they put my casket into the hearse, makeup on my face like they put on my grandpa, I can barely recognize myself as I watch the funeral service from another space.

And as they bury me under the ground, the media announces their grief and well wishes to all that attended and the millions watching from their televisions.

As a kid, I hoped I too would be able to make such a big impact on so many people. I selfishly prayed under my breath that one day I’d too have a large funeral. That people would care enough to come and cry for me because I would matter that much.

But now that it’s happening, I only care for one thing, I only asked for one thing in the letter I left behind. Lay me beside my best friend, so I can keep holding her hand through death, and we can laugh in the afterlife like we did when we were healthy, happy, and together.

[unknownperson246]

a/n: You should make a part 2 of killer on the loose I'm not really sure how it should go maybe motley Crue escaping the cops and now their looking for the reader and find her

part 1

Killer on the loose part 2:

Words: 618

Warnings: *angst* *being held hostage* *theifs* *robbery* *cussing* *being tied up*

*ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚*ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚

It has been several months since the rock band Mötley Crüe kidnapped you. You were paranoid that they would come back to get you but so far you have been safe. You locked your windows and your doors so they can’t get in. You had your weapons out to protect yourself from them. You had a bunch of nightmares of them finding their way back to you. One day you were making coffee. At this point, you had forgotten about them. You grabbed the daily newspaper off of your island table. There was a section in the newspaper about some weird men escaping from jail but you doubted it was them. Someone mentioned a rock band on your TV when you were reading the newspaper. It caught your attention. You threw the crisp newspaper to the ground and you watched as a news reporter talked about how Mötley Crüe kidnapped an innocent woman and how they just escaped federal prison that morning. You were scared. They were out to get you. You locked all of your doors and windows. You felt lightheaded. Your insides were throbbing with fear. You felt numb. You felt like your heart was going to explode. You took a seat on your couch and pulled your shotgun and pistol out from under the couch. You loaded them. You heard a knock at your door and it startled you. You grabbed your gun but you hid it out of sight. It was a package for you. You opened it and found letters from the band to you from when they were in prison.

“We are going to get you bitch!” They wrote. 

You wanted to break down and sob. Why were they harassing you like this? What was it that they wanted from you so bad? Why couldn’t they just leave you alone?

You immediately went to pack all of your things. You wanted to go to your safe house. It was your vacation house on the beach. No one would ever bother you there. As soon as you packed you saw Vince standing behind you. You held on to your gun and ran.

“Fuck you” you yelled loudly.

“Where are you going?” Tommy asked from next to you. 

“Leave me alone!” You screamed. 

You pointed the gun at Tommy. Next thing you know everything went blurry. Mick and Nikki were hovering above you. You were drugged. Next thing you know you were held hostage in your own home. You were tied up in your bed. Your house was a mess. Nikki and Vince were rummaging through all the rooms upstairs while Mick and Tommy were damaging your house from the kitchen to the living room.

“Why are you here? you bastards!” You yell trying to be brave. 

“Why do you think?” Nikki asked with a smug smile. 

“For revenge” Vince snarled. 

“What did I ever do to you?” You asked.

“You got us into federal prison!” Nikki scoffed in disbelief 

“Why do you think you were there? You bastards fucking kidnapped me and you just did it again!” You scream in frustration. 

“Technically it’s not kidnapping it’s holding hostage” Vince argued. 

“It doesn’t make it any better!” You scoffed. 

You watched them ruin all of your precious belongings. They were super kind and careful with your pet cat. 

You were surprised because they were the opposite of kind and careful with you. You watched Nikki pull out a cigarette. He left the ashes everywhere. You were exhausted. You fell asleep to find yourself at the same abandoned house where they kidnapped you last time. You were sobbing because you realized you were left all alone. Mötley Crüe had robbed your home and your pet. 

[absolutewhore101]

can i request some fluff with ashton, reader being sad cuz they're being excluded from a friend group but ash comforts her to make her feel less alone? <3

Less Alone

A/N: hope you enjoy!

Pairing: Ashton Irwin x GN!Reader

Summary: Ash makes you feel less alone when your friends are less than stellar

Word Count: 1.1K

Warnings: some swearing, shitty friends

Minors DNI

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You should’ve known. Your whole life, you’d been the one left out of parties, or plans, or group trips, hell even group chats. You were just never included. 

And you’d learned to cope - got used to being alone. And eventually, it stopped hurting so much. You were comfortable in your own presence and spending time with yourself, and then, you didn’t have to be. Because you had Ashton. 

Ashton was the one person in your life who made you feel included in every possible aspect. He asked for your opinion on everything from his shoes to new music he was working on. And he never made a decision without your input, even if it was just what you were having for dinner or what movie to watch. 

But you still had other friends. A whole group of them, actually. Rosie, Liam, and Ollie. The four of you did just about everything together, and for the first time, you felt truly included in a group. 

You went out to eat at least twice a week, constantly messaged in the group chat, and even had plans to take a trip in a few weeks. It was new territory, for sure, but you were having so much fun navigating it that you didn’t mind. 

Until, of course, the inevitable happened. 

It wasn’t that big of a deal, really. At least that’s what you’d been telling yourself. All they did was go out to eat without you. At your favorite restaurant. In the middle of the worst week of your life - which they were all well aware of. 

It has to be me. Otherwise it wouldn’t keep happening.

You stared at your phone, the picture of the three of them smiling back at you doing nothing to cheer you up. Ashton was still at the studio, he’d called you earlier to let you know that he’d be home a little later that night, so you were left to deal with this entirely on your own. 

You texted the group chat, doing your best to pretend you had no idea where they were. 

Hey, guys! I’ve got a bit of free time, anyone wanna come over for a little while???

Rosie: Sorry, hun! I’m all tangled up at the office right now, big project coming up

Liam: Yeah, I’m currently on a hike with a few friends, and we’re not gonna be back anytime soon

Ollie: I’d love to if I wasn’t walking into the gym as we speak. Sry luv :( 

So now they weren’t just excluding you, they were lying straight to your face about it. You felt a tear roll down your cheek and you immediately wiped it away, doing your best to pretend like this had absolutely no effect on you. 

But soon enough, you couldn’t hold them in. They fell and fell and fell until you heard the door open. 

“I’m home, sweets! Thought we could try that new Thai restaurant for dinner if your up for-” 

He cut himself off at the sight of your tears. 

“Hey, honey, what’s going on?” He asked, sitting down next to you. You wrapped yourself around him, burying your face into his chest as you cried. 

“I don’t know why it happens every time, Ash, but it does. It has to be me. I have to be the one pushing them away or something.” You complained. 

Ashton was confused until he caught sight of your phone lying face up on the couch next to him. He took in what he was seeing and immediately understood. 

“Oh, dove, it’s not you. You just happen to find the shittiest people on the planet.” He said, attempting to comfort you. It helped to some measure because he felt more than heard you let out a giggle. 

“They’re not shitty people.” You commented. 

“Yeah, well, either way, fuck them. It’ll just be you and I tonight, alright?” You nodded against his chest, pulling back to look up at him. 

You smiled, pressing a kiss to his lips. “Thank you.” You mumbled. 

“Anything for you.”

A few minutes later, Ash was ordering takeout while you were debating what movie to watch. 

“Babe, do you want to watch Coraline or Pride and Prejudice?” You asked when he walked back into the room. 

“Oh, Coraline, for sure.” He responded. 

You laughed, clicking on the movie but pausing it before it started. 

“Food should be here in about 20 minutes.”

“Perfect.” You grabbed his hand, dragging him upstairs and into the master bathroom. 

He watched as you dug through one of your drawers, eventually pulling out two face masks. 

“Yes.” He said before you could get a word out. “100% yes.”

You smiled, placing one package down on the counter before opening the other one, gingerly applying it to Ashton’s face.

“Well don’t you look so handsome?” You playfully teased, smoothing out a wrinkle with your finger. 

“I should hope so.” He said, admiring himself in the mirror. You hopped up onto the counter, watching as he opened the second one and put it on your face this time. 

“How long do we leave these on for?” He asked you, picking up the empty package. 

“Um, probably about 15 minutes.” You responded. He nodded, and the two of you made your way back downstairs. 

15 minutes later, the masks were taken off, just a few moments before the doorbell rang to signify the arrival of your dinner. 

You made yourself comfortable on the couch as Ashton got the food, admiring him as he walked into the living room. 

“Are you looking at me like that because I have food?” He playfully asked you.

You shook your head. 

“I’m looking at you like that because I love you and I appreciate everything you’re doing for me.”

His face flushed, and he smiled as he set down the food. He walked around the coffee table, crouching down in front of where you were sitting on the couch. 

“I’d do this for you even if you weren’t having a tough week. I’d do whatever you asked of me whenever you asked me to. I love you so much, sweets, and all I want in this world is to make you as happy as I possibly can.”

You were crying for the second time that night, but (thankfully) for a much different reason. You leaned forward, connecting your lips once again, trying to convey as much love as you could through the kiss. 

When you pulled away, Ashton pressed a quick kiss to your nose.

“Now, how about we eat some food and watch a movie and pretend like none of that bad stuff ever happened?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tell me your thoughts! Thank you for reading :)

[auspicioustidings]

Firewatch Part 14

Summary: You visit a grave as our story comes to an end.

Words: 1.9k

You wondered if Johnny had snuck into bed with you. He had done it the last time Simon was on watch and it had been admittedly sort of nice waking up bundled in him. He was pretty cute when he was sleepy. 

He hadn't, the warmth was from Dosia which was strange because these days she usually was either outside or cuddled up with Price if Simon wasn't around like the little traitor she was.

This was not Simon's bed.

–

“You've been through quite the ordeal! Can't believe you were in the forest all this time. Surprised you never came across our Firewatch, they live out there. Or they did I suppose.”

“I- sorry, what do you mean?”

“Didn't you ever notice that tower from your old place? It was a watchtower for wildfires, the men who ran it had a cabin out there as well. Shame about what happened.”

“The fire…”

“Ah last I heard between air support and the trucks coming in to help from all over it's looking like they have it contained, but these things tend to burn for days or weeks before we can really relax.”

“What about the men in the forest? What happened to them?”

The sheriff blinked at you.

“How exactly did you survive out there all this time?”

–

It wasn't as bad as it could have been was what people kept saying. The tower was gone, but the fire had never ripped through the town thanks to quick detection and action to contain it. 

In the span of six months you had lost your home to fire twice over. You were living out of the little bed and breakfast while paperwork was sorted. There was a lot of red tape involved in bringing someone back from the dead, although it was curious how much easier it was made by the sheriff having not properly filed the death certificate in the first place. You weren't as officially dead as you should have been. 

Everything would be wrapped up soon and then you didn't really know what you would do. You had money from the Insurance claim on your cottage (that had been a wild series of phone calls to increasingly senior people as you tried to explain that you were the owner who had perished in the fire), but you had no clue what to do with it. 

You knew you had been putting it off, but it was time to go visit the grave. Maybe then you'd figure it out.

–

It wasn't anything fancy, just a rustic headstone set in the ashes. Dosia wasn't super interested, instead going to rub up against your visitor. Wonders never ceased.

“Knew she'd come around eventually.”

“They do say absence makes the heart grow fonder.”

“Does it?”

You glanced over at Kyle and your heart thumped. The last time you had seen him had been weeks ago when he was disappearing into smoke and embers.

“Yeah, yeah I think it does.”

You both stood and stared at the gravestone, Dosia's ears pricking before she took off towards the treeline. You weren't worried, you were pretty sure you knew who she was in a rush to see. She completely ignored the man walking towards you and Kyle on her way. 

“Ouch.”

“She still hasn't forgiven you for saying I should've got a dog you know.”

“Still think ye should swap her for one.”

“He cried when we thought she didn't make it out.”

“Away and biel yer heid Gaz.”

You had missed them. You had really, truly missed them. It was overwhelming being on your own after always having them around. You were angry a lot at little things like how difficult you found a busy shop now. They had done that to you. It didn't make your stupid feelings any less complicated. It didn't make you feel any less like kissing the new scar on Johnny's arm or the bruises healing on Gaz.

“So you buried your girl in the end huh?”

“A few weeks before the fire. We were planning on bringing you to see it.”

“This close to town? Bit risky no?”

“Aye, reckoned ye were worth the risk.”

You took a deep breath to calm yourself. It was a strange thing looking at your own grave. Why put it here to bring you to see it? To prove that they weren't holding you to some impossible dream girl standard anymore?

“Was supposed to be a birthday present, but we're a bit late now aren't we little bird?”

Price looked tired as he emerged from the treeline. It must have been an awful few weeks for him. There was still the remnants of the fire to be looked after incase it blazed up again. It had taken out the cabin and the tower, nothing left but smouldering wrecks and a nasty looking burn creeping up his neck. All of those drawings in Simon's room gone. You don't know why that was one of the things that made you the saddest.

“Didn't feel much like celebrating anyway” you answered truthfully. 

Your birthday had been 5 days after the fire and you had spent it for the most part staring into the void and napping. You hadn't felt like celebrating your new found freedom at all. 

“We did actually get you something. Still have it, if you'd like.”

You wondered what it was. As far as you knew nothing survived the fire. But they were just things and things didn't seem all that important anymore. Not when Simon finally joined you, a purring Dosia in his arms. He was slow due to a bad left leg it seemed like. 

“OK.”

Simon let Dosia down even though she was very reluctant to go so he could take something from around his neck. He handed you the corded necklace. It had a key on the end.

“Happy birthday sweetheart.”

“What's it for?”

“Havnae given it a name yet, thought we'd leave that for you tae do.”

“It's a 20 minute drive out the other side of town, just on the treeline.”

You stared at them. You knew what they were talking about. There was a crumbling cottage out there, you knew because you had considered buying it when you had first moved here but it was more expensive than the one you had went with and you couldn't afford it. You had completely forgotten it was there.

“Hope you don't mind sweetheart, but we took the liberty of getting the electrical work done.”

“And the roof, sorry luv I know you're a good roofer but my heart cannot take watching you do that again.”

“Tae be fully honest the whole thing is already done. Got a wee bit carried away.”

All those trips into town. The way they'd come back looking tired. They had been building you a home. 

“But… no wait, that's not… you were going to let me go?”

“Couldn't keep you in a cage forever little bird.”

“You'd have gotten arrested!”

“Would we aye? For what?”

“For kidnapping me!”

“Funny thing sweetheart, nobody in town is talking about the fire because they're too busy talking about the miracle girl. Apparently survived months in the forest on her own, told the sheriff she was quite the survivalist.”

“Yeah well! You! I!” you huffed, trying to come up with any reason that you had lied that didn't sound like “I love you”. “It was a cooler story.”

They laughed and it made you smile. You couldn't do it in the end. They were not bad men, you couldn't tell the truth knowing it would see them punished and put away. When you didn't know if they were dead or alive it had brought your feelings a stunning clarity. You had fallen stupidly in love with them. 

“So what's next?”

“Don't know honestly. We're camping out and keeping an eye on things. Once the danger has passed we rebuild” Price said, hand massaging at his shoulder.

“I'm pretty handy with a hammer.”

“Yeah?”

“Suppose I could help out” you offered, fighting to keep the stupid grin off of your face as you held up the key  “after all my cottage is pretty nearby right? And this guy is going to be useless with that leg.”

“Watch it sweetheart, my teeth are still intact.”

–

John liked to joke that you would combust if you didn't have a project. Once the cabin was rebuilt (5 bedrooms, incase they had visitors obviously) you helped where you could with the tower, once that was done you wanted to redo the kitchen in the cottage, after that you talked him into taking in an abandoned dog (honestly very easy what with you and Kyle both giving your best puppy dog eyes). Dosia surprisingly seemed to enjoy the new addition, bullying the german shepherd into doing whatever she wanted. The pair of them mostly came and went as they wanted between the cottage and the cabin, thriving running wild in the forest in between. 

Simon tried to get you into football which you sort of did. You had no interest in the big games, but you'd both go and cheer on the local team when they had home games. Inevitably you both looked a mess having gotten into a bit of a paint fight when you had insisted Simon have a little flag on his cheek. You threatened to de-fang him at least once a week. Both Dosia and Riley were absolutely in love with him which both you and Johnny sulked about. You thought maybe, for Riley at least, that Simon felt safe. His leg never quite healed right so he was more cautious and slow moving now, something you thought she might find comforting. 

When Johnny wasn’t grumbling about the animals wanting nothing to do with him, he was whining at you to not get out of bed. You had never met a lazier creature than John MacTavish on a duvet day, he just wanted to cuddle and watch movies. When he was on a hyper day he wanted to redecorate which almost always ended in a fight because you disagreed on what would look good. Everytime a big video game release rolled around the two of you (and sometimes Gaz depending on the game) would just hole up for a weekend and do nothing but play. Luckily Price indulged you and usually kept you fed and watered. 

Kyle had only been half kidding about making a fire fighter out of you. It started as therapy really, a way to try and control the nightmares. He took the lead in teaching you about all the equipment, letting you observe drills and even buying you custom fitted kit. While you never did want to be near a fire again, you learned to be less scared of the idea, you learned to believe that you would know what to do if anything happened. When you hadn't panicked at a little bin fire in your cottage and instead had just dealt with it, you had showed up at the cabin bursting with excitement to tell them. 

The Firewatch went from 4 to 5. You enjoyed it, the peace and quiet and the stars as you sipped hot chocolate and looked out onto the forest. You didn’t really know what the future held for you, but against all odds you had found a family and you were well and truly happy. And if sometimes you found yourself looking through the binoculars just to check on said family, you figured that was just karma.

[sunshinesteviee]

human heating pad - s.h.

summary: steve takes care of you while you're on your period wc: 1.3k warnings: reader who menstruates, but no mention of pronouns, so gn! a/n: just a lil something since it's been a while since i've posted anything!!! this is half self-indulgent, and half for ash lol.

Masterlist

“I don’t wanna get up,” you whined, pulling the blankets on your bed up, clutching them to your chest. 

Hearing your groans, Steve popped his head out of the bathroom, hands still in his hair as he attempted to get it into place, “What’s wrong, babe?”

“Don’t feel good,” you huffed, pushing your bottom lip out into a pout to emphasize your point, “Cramps.”

Steve gave you a sympathetic frown, holding a finger up to signal that he’d be right back before ducking back into the bathroom. He reappeared a moment later and crawled back into bed with you, knees pressing into the mattress on either side of your hips. Leaning down, he pressed a soft kiss to your temple, “Let’s stay home, then.” You had been planning on a night out with the older group of friends, and Steve had already started getting ready. 

“We can’t not go, Stevie—” 

“No, I’m serious,” Steve cut you off, soft kisses scattered across the side of your face, “You always say how bad your cramps are; you deserve to take care of yourself. I’ll call Robin to let her know, and we can stay in."

“I don’t know…” you replied, uncertain. You hated canceling on friends, especially last minute.

“C’mon,” he murmured, bringing a hand up to brush over your hair. The pad of his thumb rubbed gently against your temple, “We’ll stay in bed all night and watch movies, and we can order whatever you want for dinner. Whaddya think?”

Pursing your lips, you finally nodded. Honestly, you weren’t ever going to say no to Steve. And he was making the first day of your period sound almost bearable. “And you’ll cuddle with me all night?”

Steve scoffed, rolling his eyes playfully, “Obviously, baby. I’ll go call Robin and tell her you’re not feeling well. You get comfy.” He left a small kiss on the tip of your nose before getting out of bed again, making his way down the hall to the phone. 

You couldn’t hear much of what he was saying into the phone, and settled back into the pillows beneath you, not-so-patiently waiting for your boyfriend’s return. Just being in his bed helped soothe the ache in your abdomen. Everything smelled like him, and the bed was still warm from where he’d been next to you all afternoon on your lazy day. The only thing that would be better is if you were wrapped up in his arms. 

He returned a few minutes later, a glass of water and some medicine in hand for you, just in case. Placing it on your nightstand, Steve got back in bed next to you, wiggling his way underneath the covers. You scooted closer to him and let out a soft sigh, “I’m sorry we had to cancel… Were they mad?”

“Of course not,” Steve frowned, one arm sliding over your shoulder to pull you in, lips pressing to your temple, “Robin just said she hoped you felt better soon. And don’t apologize, baby. We’ll reschedule for a day next week, yeah? Would rather go out when you can enjoy it, too.”

Sighing again, you nodded, cheek pressed into Steve’s chest, “Yeah, okay. Thanks for calling, baby.” Your hand slid across Steve’s torso, tucking around his side as you nuzzled into him. He was warm under your touch and you slipped your hand underneath the hem of his shirt, searching for his soft skin. Steve shivered as your fingers grazed his skin, pulling a soft laugh and another apology out of you, a light kiss to his jaw. 

“Would rather be here with you all night, anyway,” Steve added, pressing a soft kiss to your hair. “Do you want a heating pad, babe?”

You shook your head quickly, eyebrows furrowing together, “No! Don’t want you to get up. Can you be my heating pad?”

Steve let out a quiet laugh, but agreed immediately, tapping on your hip, “Sure, babe. C’mon, little spoon. Turn over.” 

“You’re the best,” you mumbled as you pecked his lips gently and turned over in his arms. They circled around your waist and pulled your back into his chest. His body curved around yours, the warmth of his abdomen soothing the dull ache in your back. 

“Better?” he asked, breath warm against your neck, lips ghosting over your skin. 

Without replying, you reached behind you in search of Steve’s hand. You found his wrist and tugged at it gently until his palm was against your stomach. He let out a quiet laugh again, fingers searching for the hem of your shirt and slipping underneath it so he was resting his hand against your skin. Relaxing into his touch, you finally agreed, “Much better.” 

Steve’s fingers splayed out over your skin and pressed lightly, an attempt to massage the aches away. When you’d first started dating Steve, you were surprised by how much he didn’t care about your period, and how supportive he was, especially when it came to taking care of yourself. He always did his best to take care of you, whether that meant running to the store to get the things you needed (and usually coming home with a plethora of snacks he knew would cheer you up), or being your human heating pad. He’d wait on you hand and foot if you let him. 

The further the sun sank into the sky, the further you sank into bed, and into Steve’s touch. There was a movie playing on the TV, but you’d long forgotten it, too distracted by Steve’s warmth and his soft voice at your ear. It was only when your stomach grumbled loudly that you realized how late it’d gotten. You giggled quietly, finally turning back over in Steve’s grasp, “Are you hungry? ‘Cause I am.”

“I heard,” Steve giggled with you, rubbing the tip of his nose against yours now that you were facing him, “Whaddya want? We’ll get it delivered.”

You only complained slightly when he got out of bed to call the restaurant, grabbing at his hand as he rolled out of bed, “You’ll come right back?”

“Do you want food or not?” he retorted, his free hand on his hip as he looked at you with a mock-disapproving stare. 

“Yeah, but want you more. So come back quick, please.”

“You know I will, honey.” 

You did know that, and yet, you dragged yourself out of bed, blanket cloak and all, to follow him downstairs. You knew Steve wouldn’t mind, but you don’t want to eat in his bed, and you were sure that if he joined you in bed again, the two of you would never get up again. When he saw you shuffling down the stairs, he gave you a confused look, but you ignored him and flopped onto the couch. 

Hanging the phone back up on the wall after ordering, Steve made his way over to you and crouched down, an amused smile on his face, “I said I’d be right back, silly.” 

“I know,” you smiled, shifting onto your back and tugging at his arm, “We can eat down here. You can still cuddle with me ’til the food gets here. C’mere.” With that, you tugged a bit harder until Steve all but fell into you. 

“Babe!” Steve laughed, trying to hold himself up over you, “I’m gonna crush you!” 

“That’s the point, Stevie. You’re like my very own heated, weighted blanket,” you replied, pulling at his shoulders until his body was pressed to yours. 

Steve finally gave in and laid against you, his cheek pressing into your shoulder as he grumbled something along the lines of, “Only wanna cuddle for your own selfish needs. ‘M just a human heating pad.” He kissed the skin just beneath your collarbone once, and then twice, to let you know that he was only joking. 

“You love it,” you huffed, wrapping the ends of the blanket around Steve’s shoulders to keep him close to you. Tilting your chin up, you pressed a soft kiss to his temple and mumbled, “And thank you for taking care of me.” 

He hummed quietly, his hand rubbing along your side gently, “You know I always will.”