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writtendaydreamm · 1 month ago

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Allergies and Accidents

Summary: Y/n and Langdon's son has an allergic reaction at school and is rushed to the ER

Author's note: There are not enough Langdon fics on here so I tried my hand at it with this little scenario that came to mind. I have no medical knowledge so please don't expect accuracy with the medical details lol but I tried my best.

If you enjoyed the is pls checkout the new Langdon fic I just wrote! Give it a read here

1:03 PM

McKay noticed Y/n immediately. Familiar faces are always the easiest to spot here - they’re the ones you never want to see. She came through the entrance frantic and pale faced, trying to squeeze through the mess of people packed into that waiting room tighter than sardines in a can.

“Alright guys, do a round and make sure no one’s dying before they get into a bed,” McKay instructed the row of interns following behind her like little ducklings.

Making a beeline to y/n, she eyed her up and down assessing for any possible injuries. No visible cuts or wounds. No signs of trauma or pain. Other than the obvious fact the poor girl was about to have a full blown panic attack, she looked fine.

“Cass! Oh thank god,” Y/n exclaimed, grabbing onto McKay earnestly. She had a vice grip and was not letting go until she got some answers.

“What’s going on, are you alright? What are you doing here?”

“It’s not me,” Y/n said, holding back a sob. “It’s Theo.”

12:31 PM

Typing up his report on the college kid with pancreatitis in South 12, Robby settled into a chair. He thought to himself it must’ve been his lucky day. He barely got a chance to use the restroom let alone a chance to sit down. It was almost unheard of.

The thought alone must’ve jinxed him as Dana called out for him the second he got comfortable. He gave her a tired look over his glasses thinking, what now.

“EMS rolling in with a 6 year old male. Anaphylaxis. Low BP, dropping O2.”

“ETA?”

As if on cue the automatic doors slid open for two first responders wheeling in a young boy. He was wheezing, gasping for air. Jumping into action, Robby, Perlah, along with 2 interns opened up a room as the EMS gave their report.

“Six year old male, Theo Langdon. Severe anaphylaxis, failed EpiPen at school.”

The name caught Robby off guard. No, it couldn’t be. Eyes dropping down to get a better look at the boy as they transferred him from the stretcher onto the bed, Robby’s jaw went slack. Perlah who had come to the same realization looked at him wide-eyed in shock.

“Alright, we’ll take it from here, thanks guys,” Robby dismissed the responders before addressing their new patient.

“Hey bud, it’s Dr. Robby. I know you're struggling right now, but we’ve got you, okay.” Pressing his fingers along the boy’s throat assessing the swelling and looking for signs of a possible tracheal deviation. No deviation yet which was good, no need for immediate intubation. Using his stethoscope against Theo’s chest and throat, he listened closely for stridor and absent breath sounds. “Get him on continuous pulse ox, full cardiac monitoring. O2 status?”

“88% on 15L non-rebreather,” Perlah replied, adjusting the mask on the boy’s face.

“I do not want to intubate if possible, but if it drops below 85%, we have no choice. Get RSI meds ready in case we lose the airway.”

Pointing at one of the interns, Whitaker, Robby ordered him to step out, find Dr. Langdon and keep him away from this room by any means necessary. The intern hesitated, clearly confused by the request, and honestly a bit offended that he was the one to be sent off over the other intern. Gathering what guts he had, Whitaker spoke up.

“Dr. Robby, I’d really prefer to stay-”

“And I’d prefer that Dr. Langdon not walk in and see his son like this,” Robby countered without a beat.

A flash of understanding spread across Whitaker’s face as he rushed out of the room to do as instructed. Robby spared a quick glance out the doors watching the young intern weave his way through the bustle of the ER floor in search of said doctor. No matter how long you’ve been on the job or how much trauma and gore you’ve dealt with, nothing will ever compare to the sickening feeling of seeing a loved one here. And the last thing they needed in this room was another Langdon in distress.

Wrapping his stethoscope back around his neck, Robby stood up determination setting in. He was not going to let anything happen to Theo. Not in his ER. They needed to open his airways and stabilize him fast.

“Nebulized racemic epinephrine stat.”

12:40 PM

Walking back to the nurses station, Dr. Langdon was feeling quite pleased with himself.

A woman had been rushed in with a ruptured spleen and internal bleeding after a bad car crash. Distended abdomen, severe blood loss, BP dangerously low and on the decline. She was losing too much blood too fast. She was going to crash. She wouldn’t have made it to the OR if he hadn’t acted as fast as he had to stop the bleeding and relieve the abdominal pressure.

“The peritoneal lavage. The IV vasopressor. That was really quick thinking. I mean you didn’t even hesitate,” Mel thought out loud, joining him at the counter. “I’d never seen that much internal bleeding managed outside the OR before.”

“Yeah?” chucked dryly, “Well, get used to it.”

Only half listening now as Mel rambled on, he pulled out his phone and in an instant whatever high he was on after working on that patient was brought crashing down seeing his notifications.

15 missed calls, all from Y/n.

“Well do you think she’s gonna make it? In the OR I mean?” Mel asked, oblivious to the fact the man beside her was on the verge of mentally spiraling.

“Um, it's in their hands now,” he answered absently, gesturing over to the OR as he walked off leaving Mel to swallow whatever she was about to say next.

He didn’t mean to be rude, but whatever Y/n was calling about had to be something urgent. 15 missed calls. She never called him during his shifts. She’d text if she needed to tell him something. But even then sparingly and about little things, like needing to grab eggs and milk on his way home, or to update him that she and the kids got home safe. She never called. Not unless something serious was happening. His mind raced with the worst case scenarios as he paced down the hallway, phone pressed tight against his ear. Maybe she got into an accident again - she was always getting into little accidents and incidents. Or maybe she was having car trouble? But they’d just gotten both their cars serviced and paid a pretty penny for it too. Was it the kids? God he hoped it wasn’t one of the kids.

“Hello, Frank?”

“Hey baby, sorry I missed your calls. I had this patient crashing and-”

She didn’t give him any time to finish, cutting straight to the chase.

“Theo was rushed to the ER.”

12:49

“Vitals,” Langdon demanded, bursting into the room pushing right past Whitaker.

Really? Robby looked at Whitaker who could only shrug apologetically. He had tried his best to keep Langdon away, but the poor intern was no match for the senior resident who just moments ago had threatened to lay him out on the ER floor if he didn’t move out of his way. And Whitaker knew by the look in Langdon’s eyes, he was dead serious.

“You can’t be in here Langdon,” Robby shook his head, adjusting the ventilator settings, tweaking Theo’s oxygen flow.

“The hell I can’t,” Langdon bit back, moving towards his son. But Whitaker held his arms out, trying to block him from getting any further into the room.

“I swear if you don’t get your hands off me, you’ll be in a bed next,” Langdon said through gritted teeth.

“Do not threaten my interns,” Robby warned pointedly.

But the words fell on deaf ears as Langdon continued, asking how Theo’s airways are looking? If he’s getting enough steroid coverage. If they checked for biphasic anaphylaxis.

“You’re not his doctor right now,” Robby said, beginning to lose his patience, “You’re his dad. And you need to step out if you can’t control yourself.”

Langdon threw his head back in frustration. He was both for crying out loud. He was Theo’s dad and a doctor. And he’d be damned if he didn’t use his skills and knowledge to ensure the best treatment for his son. He was about to protest again when suddenly the machine's steady beeping began to go off, the alarms spiking. A cold panic coursed through Langdon’s entire body as that dreaded high pitched beeping filled the room.

“You need to push fluids faster. He's in distributive shock,” Langdon stressed from the foot of the bed watching the monitor show Theo’s BP dropping.

Robby cursed under his breath, adjusting the IV line. Although there were no rules against having family members in the room while patients were being treated, at times like this Robby really wished there were. Dealing with overbearing parents in the room was one thing, but an overbearing parent that happened to be a doctor as well was another.

“Fluids are running. Normal saline wide open. We can handle this.”

“He’s not responding fast enough,” Langdon pushed, “If this is progressing into refractory shock, you need to start the pressors now.”

Perlah turned to Robby, “Do you want to escalate to vasopressors?”

“Get the vasopressin push ready, but hold for my call,” he shot a sharp look at Langdon having had enough of him trying to control the room, “Don’t wanna jump the gun. We’re not panicking here.”

“Not panicking? My son could code, and you’re not panicking?”

“That’s it. Out. Now,” he snapped, raising his voice to meet Langdon’s.

“No,” he doubled down.

“Then I will have you forcibly removed and written up for insubordination.”

“Robby, please. That’s my son,” Langdon pleaded, running his hands through his hair, trying not to get a grip.

“And we’ve got him,” Robby assured. “Now, go. Let us do our jobs. Go.”

With a sharp exhale, and one final look at his son, Langdon turned to leave pulling his phone out to call Y/n.

1:07 PM

Following McKay through the double doors into the ER, Y/n gripped the strap of her shoulder bag tightly. She was putting on a brave face, but the worry in her chest grew heavier and heavier with each step. McKay tried her best to soothe the poor mother, but being a mother herself, she knew there was nothing she could possibly say to make Y/n feel any better about this situation.

Langdon, who had been pacing outside of Theo’s room, closed the distance between them the moment he saw her. Without a word, he wrapped his arms around her into a tight hug. Y/n let out a deep sigh, melting into him. Her heart that had been beating like a jackhammer was calmed by the the comfort of his presence and the warmth of his embrace. Pulling back to take a look at Theo, she couldn’t see a thing. The room’s curtains had been drawn.

“How is he,” she asked looking up at him, brows furrowed tightly together, worry etched across her face

Langdon had never seen her look so helpless before. She’s the strongest woman he knows - juggling a fulltime job of her own all while taking care of the kids and picking up the slack at home whenever he was late or working overtime. Even with her plate piled high, she was always composed, always cool under pressure. But all of that composure and coolness had flown out the car window as she sped from work to the hospital after getting that terrible phone call from their son's school. Before him now she was just a mother, scared and worried sick.

It was a good thing Y/n hadn’t gotten here any earlier than she had, that she didn’t have to see Theo struggling like Langdon had. Admittedly, he lost himself a bit back in the room seeing Theo like that. He knew looking down at her now he needed to keep it together. He could not give her any reason to stress or worry any more than she already was. Every other day of the week, she was his rock, their family’s rock. For once, he needed to be hers. He took a breath choosing his next words carefully.

“He’s gonna be alright,” Langdon said, pressing a tender kiss to her forehead.

She listened as he went on trying his best to assure her of just that, telling her that Robby was taking good care of Theo. That he’s in good hands. That they see kids come through with anaphylaxis all the time. That he'll be okay. And though he sounded confident, Y/n knew him better than that. She had the sense that he was trying to convince her of all that just as much as he was trying to convince himself.

Taking a seat on one of the nearby chairs, Y/n shook her head in confusion. They’d taken every measure they could think of to ensure something like this would never happen. They’d informed his teacher of the allergy, and sent out letters to the parents in his class informing them as well. And even in the case he did consume anything with nuts, they always sent him off with an EpiPen and always ensured that it was still effective.

“I don’t understand. The school said they’d given him his EpiPen.”

“It’s not foolproof babe,” Langdon sighed, running a hand over his face.

It was unfortunate but true. While potentially life saving, EpiPens are not 100% effective if not properly administered. They could’ve taken it out too early or maybe misfire, he explained.

“So you’re telling me this was what? Some sort of user error?” Y/n scoffed at the irony. It just goes to show no matter what you do or how prepared you are, you can’t control what happens out there. As hard as you try, you can’t protect your kids from everything.

“The better question is what idiot parent brought treats for the kids and didn’t bother checking for allergies,” Langdon said, growing upset at the thought. It was clearly stated in their parent handbook, all treats must accommodate any allergies and tolerances. Otherwise, don’t bring any. How stupid, careless, and dangerous. “You know, I bet it was those fucking Fultons. They don’t know how to follow basic instructions.”

About to go off on a tirade about the Fultons - whom he could not stand, for multiple reasons, but most recently because the father had cut Langdon off during morning drop off the other week - when the curtains pulled open.

Y/n stood up moving closer, getting her first look at Theo since she’s been here. He was lying still, eyes closed with an oxygen mask on his face, an IV still in his arm. Langdon placed a hand on her back, in part to comfort her and to ground himself, as a wave of relief washed over him seeing Theo stable and out of critical danger.

Robby stepped out to speak to them. He and Langdon locked eyes, a silent understanding passing between them. Any of the tension they had in that room was eased and forgotten. As a father of sorts himself, Robby knew where Langdon was coming from.

“Is he okay? Is he awake? Can he talk?” Y/n asked, the words just flowing out of her mouth as Langdon rubbed her back.

“He’s okay. He’s breathing on his own now, still on oxygen, but his vitals are holding steady” Robby assured her, before turning to Landon who looked at him expectantly, “His airway swelling has gone down significantly. No sign of biphasic reaction-”

“Residual bronchospasm? Signs of delayed reaction?” Langond interjected before he could even finish. Robby shook his head, more amused than annoyed.

“This thoroughness,” Robby said sarcastically, patting Langdon’s chest with the clipboard teasingly, “is why he’s one of my best residents.”

The pair chuckled, both knowing full well how Langdon can be sometimes. Robby went on, letting them know that they’re keeping a close eye on Theo, watching out for any secondary complications. His lungs sound clear and O2 are improving but they’re keeping him in the PICU overnight to make sure he’s in the clear.

“Can we see him now?” Y/n asked.

“Yeah. Of course. He’s still under some sedation, but should be up soon,” he told her, gently guiding her into the room.

1:30 PM

Theo had come-to for a little, just enough for Y/n and Langdon to let him know he's okay now, that they’re here with him, before his heavy lids closed again, falling back asleep. His little body surely exhausted after all it had just gone through.

Sat on either side of their son, Y/n and Langdon watched over him quietly. His gaze wandering over to his wife, he could see the toll this had taken on her. It was the middle of the day but her eyes looked worn, and hollowed like she'd pulled an all-nighter. And her lips, that were always smiling and laughing, were pressed into a tight frown. Her brows knit together so tight, the 11 lines on her forehead looked more like 1,111. The stress of your loved one being in the ER will do that to you. Weigh you down, wear you out, and age you a year in an hour. He sees it all the time. But he hated seeing it on his wife.

“He takes after you y’know,” Langdon started.

She perked up a bit at the sweet sentiment thinking maybe he was referring to their physical resemblance, or maybe the similarities in their personalities, or the little quirks Theo picked up from her. But when he said that she and Theo were both accident-prone, her mouth fell open at the jab.

“That’s not funny Frank,” Y/n rolled her eyes, chastising him.

“Oh come on, it's a little funny,” Langdon continued to joke, seeing her straight face start to crack. “I mean, god forbid, but if I'm not wrong Theo only needs one more ER visit to tie with you.”

She hated that he was making light of such a thing, but what she hated more was the smile she was fighting to hold in. She shook her head trying to fight back her own laugh but just couldn’t do it, not once she heard his. It felt good to laugh, even if it was hushed and contained as they tried not to wake Theo. She needed this. He needed it too. They both needed something to lighten the mood, to let out the long breath they’d both been holding in.

“No but seriously, take that back. Theo and I are not accident-prone,” she pointed out as their laughter died down.

Langdon nodded, agreeing that it wasn’t right to say Theo was accident-prone. His visits to the ER were never his fault. The first time was when he was just a baby for a fever that wouldn't go down. The next was a couple years later when he was a toddler for an allergic reaction as they hadn’t yet figured out he was allergic to certain types of nuts. And today, well, he wound up here thanks to some other kid’s parents' negligent disregard for the health and safety of all the kids in Theo’s 1st grade class.

Y/n, on the other hand, she definitely was.

“I am not,” she fought back, arms crossed, unwilling to admit to this.

“Babe, really?” Langdon asked, brows raised.

“Maybe I’m a little clumsy,” Y/n admitted reluctantly, “But I wouldn’t say accident-prone.”

Langdon scoffed. “Y/n, we literally met in the ER because you were in an accident.”

It was his third year of med school doing his rotation in Emergency Medicine. At this point he had already intended on pursuing Emergency Medicine and all of the hands-on experience he was getting only solidified that. It was the end of his shift but two buses had just come through - one from a car crash with two non critical patients and the other a factory worker coming in after a gruesome work related accident. Of course, he’d decided to stay hoping to get in on the much more exciting case with the factory worker. But by fate or dumb luck, whatever you wanted to call it, he wound up with Y/n’s case instead - cue their meet-cute.

“Then 4 weeks after that you ended up in the ER again,” he added now counting on his fingers for dramatic effect. “Then there was the time you fell trying that new-”

She interjected with "ah," holding up a hand to stop him from going any further. She did not need to be reminded of that particularly embarrassing incident he was about to bring up. She got the point.

“But hey, if you didn’t get into those accidents we never would’ve met. Never would’ve dated, got married, had our kids,” he said genuinely, his voice softening as he brushed a gentle hand over Theo’s head.

With fond memories of their time together, of how they ended up where they are now playing through both their heads, the air in the room felt lighter and so did the weight on their shoulders. A comfortable silence filled the room and for a moment, everything seemed to settle down when Y/n gasped suddenly.

“Shit, what time is it,” she asked, rummaging through her purse.

Jolted by her sudden outburst, Langdon hurriedly pulled out his phone for the time. 1:42.

Y/n let out a groan. She'd been in such a panic when she arrived, she couldn’t be bothered to waste another minute in the hospital’s parking structure going aisle to aisle hunting for a parking spot. So instead she haphazardly parked in the 30-minute parking stall for pick-ups and drop-offs. Y/n moved to get up but Langdon said he’ll take care of it.

“Are you sure,” Y/n asked, as he took the keys from her hands. Truthfully, she was glad he offered, not wanting to leave Theo's side just yet in case he woke up again.

“Yeah, you stay. Need some fresh air anyway," he said massaging her shoulders for a second, before leaning down to joke into her ear, "Besides, all this talk of you getting into accidents, I don’t really feel like letting you get behind the wheel right now."

"Asshole," Y/n muttered, shoving him away playfully but not before he could press a sweet kiss against the side of her head.

Watching as he left, she chuckled to herself. Maybe being accident-prone had its perks.

#the pitt #langdon x reader #frank langdon #frank langdon x reader #dr langdon x reader #thepitt x reader #dad!langdon x reader

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sashasspace · 11 months ago

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Love Language mod v1- the intro ♡

I can’t believe my first ever mod is finally out! I wrote it out in July 2021 hoping the day it could be a mod and the fact it is out now feels so surreal. The five love language mod in the sims! Yes, our sims can now have a love language as a trait. You can buy the trait from the rewards store and it costs 12 points. Once your sim has the trait, you can see it in the simology panel and then your sims will have wants surrounding their trait. I used ALL the packs to create this mod.

What are the wants we will see in game?

Most of the instructions are already in the game on how to complete the wants

Words of affirmation

For words of affirmation, your sim’s charisma skill is an important factor when it comes to their social interactions

Compliment outfit *skill 2 charisma*

Compliment appearance

Brighten day *skill 2 charisma*

Flatter *skill 3 charisma*

Ask about day

Express admiration

Whisper (any whisper social)

Profess undying love

Pickup line *for couples with high relationship, just have your couple flirt*

Sweet talk *skill 6 charsima*

Flirt

Declare love publicly

Get to know

Discuss interest

Deep conversation

Tell story (any story social)

Tell dirty joke *skill 4 comedy and also flirty*

Ask a risqué question

Write love email *skill 4 writing/ flirty mood*

Flirty text *could be regular text too*

Heartfelt compliment *happy mood*

Say affirmations

Write affirmations

Quality time

Ask about day

Watch movie alone or with someone

Play Console / PC alone or with someone *skill 4 video gaming*

Call someone

Chat on computer

Cook meal alone or with someone (any meals from all packs)

Picnic *spring/summer season*

Prepare drinks (any drinks from all packs)

Travel

Join in cooking

Workout *skill 6 fitness*

Dance together *skill 3 dance*

Pillow fight

Teach to knit *skill 10 knitting*

Play with sparkler *must be summer/fireworks must be on property for the want to appear*

Video call

Watch TV show

Take a bath *any bath*

Play board games *all table games included*

Gifts

Give gift *friendly, mean, funny or romantic*

Give simoleons

Treat yourself or any animal

Receive gift *open presents from seasons*

Buy something *retail, phone, computer purchase...etc.*

Offer rose *gift rose or flower arrangement in inventory/ buy from the flower stall*

Donate to charity *skill 3 charisma*

Give jewelry gift *gemology table*

Give a collectable as a gift *dig to find something or buy simmi capsule*

Acts of service

Call to meal

Be called to a meal

Make drinks for *use bar*

Prepare drinks (any drink from any pack)

Order drinks together / solo

Cheers *toast from seasons/ my wedding stories*

Order food from stall

Clean up

Repair

Give or receive massage *romantic base game social or spa day*

Cook (any meal)

Donate to charity *skill 3 charisma*

Order delivery

Serve tea/ be served tea *object from my wedding stories*

Hire a service (any service)

Volunteer *parenthood pack*

Physical touch

These wants need sims to have a first kiss to appear. For sims created in CAS as married or premades, they have to woohoo first for the want to appear.

Kiss

Kiss lover's cheek / family kiss *all sims are included in this interaction*

Hug / Embrace *all sims are included in this interaction*

Caress cheek

Snuggle your lover

Give / receive Massage

Look deeply into eyes

Feed a bite

Slow dance / sweetheart dance *My wedding stories/ High school years*

Cozy up by the fire

Woohoo (any location)

Cuddle while watching movie

Make out

Tickle

Credits 💕

Thank you Tee (danitysimmer) for helping me and teaching me all about modding. You are so patient with me and so understanding.. I’ll never forget your kindness. I pray you receive so many blessings in life

Jordy, thank you for motivating me to go back and cheering me on when I sent updates

My family and friends who cheered me on when I sent updates

Zerbu’s mod constructor v5 / Lot51 tuning builder

Sims 4 studio / Scumbumbo’s xml injector

Cinnasims for the pose I used / pose player mod

"The Five Love Languages" by Gary Chapman

Twistedmexi better exceptions

My amazing friends who tested this mod out thank you so much!

XML INJECTOR IS REQUIRED!!!!

Optional downloads ♥

UI Cheats Extension v1.41 | Patreon

MiniMod: Re-Roll Wants | Patreon

Video tutorial

CLICK HERE TO DOWNLOAD THE MOD Alternate Download

Brazilian Portuguese love language mod

French love language mod

Polish love language mod

Ukrainian love language mod

Spanish love language mod

FAQs ღ

Why is the mod not appearing for me? You don't have XML injector mod 💜

There will be future updates such as moodlets/buffs and love languages for children. If you have any issues, please contact me. I will try my best to figure it out. Tag me if you use the mod, I would love to see it in your game. Thanks for downloading and being patient with me. I wish you a lovely day!

Take care 🌙

🚨 For any modder who wants to translate any of my mods, I don't mind if you upload it on your patreon, or even any other website that monetizes, BUT I do not want you to post it on CurseForge. I would also like if you keep the mods publicly for download no early access.

#the sims 4 #simblr #sims 4 #ts4 simblr #simmer #black simmer #sims 4 mods #sims 4 love language mod

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briefinquiries · 2 months ago

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Under the Blood Moon | Peaky Blinders | Chapter 15

Tommy Shelby x Reader: Chapter 15

Fic Summary: You came to Birmingham for a fresh start, to bury the past and keep your head down. As a former nurse in the war, you’ve seen enough blood and death to last a lifetime. But fate (and the Shelby’s) have other plans. After stitching Tommy Shelby back together, you find yourself drawn further into their world, a world of violence, loyalty, and power. When Tommy offers you a job, it comes with more than just good pay, it comes with expectations and lines you never planned to cross.

Chapter summary: Campbell's final plans for you take a brutal turn, pushing you past the edge of suffering and pain, but a last-ditch effort from Tommy leads them closer to finding you before it's too late.

Word count: 5k

Warnings: Violence, injury, mentions of blood, gore, and open wounds, PTSD and war flashbacks, alcohol use, and mild language, mention of torture and vague, nonconsensual sexualization and touch.

The darkness was thick, heavy, and suffocating all at once.

Time had blurred. Minutes had turned into hours, which turned into days. You had no idea how many.

All you knew was the ache deep in your bones, the fire in your ribs every time you breathed too deep.

The cold from the stone floor had seeped into your skin, into your veins, leaving you shaking despite the fever you were fairly sure was burning beneath your skin.

Your wrists throbbed from the cuffs, your head pounded relentlessly, and every inch of you ached, bruised and raw.

Your body ached. Your head pounded. Your resolve was slipping.

But worse than the pain was the waiting.

The silence.

The moments in between when Campbell wasn’t there– when you were left alone with your own thoughts.

What if Tommy wasn’t coming at all?

You tried to push the thought away– tried to hold onto something, anything. But the longer you sat in the dark, the more your grip began to slip.

The exhaustion was too deep now, sinking into your bones. Your head lulled slightly to the side, the weight of it too much to hold up.

The bruises, the cuts, the ache deep in your ribs– it all blended together. Pain had been a constant companion for days now, so much so that it felt like a part of you. Like breathing. Like blinking.

You could barely tell where one wound ended and another began.

Your thoughts blurred. Memories twisted. The shadows in the corners of the room moved if you looked at them too long. The cold stone beneath you began to feel softer, warmer. Your lashes fluttered, too heavy.

If you just closed your eyes for a moment…

Just a moment.

The dark wasn’t so bad.

It was quiet here. It pressed down on you, seeping into your skin, curling around your ribs like a vice. The air was thick– too thick. Damp. Heavy with something bitter, metallic.

Smoke?

Your vision was swimming, the blurred edges of the room warping into something else entirely. Dirt. Packed thick beneath your fingernails. Filling your nose, your mouth. The damp walls of the cellar blurred, shifted– it became stone. Then it became the earth.

Somewhere, in the distance, you heard the muffled crack of an explosion. The ground beneath you shuddered, and for a moment, your breath hitched as panic clawed up your throat.

No, not here. Not again.

Your fingers twitched against your restraints, but the movement only sent a sharp, splintering pain up your arms. You barely registered it. Your mind was already slipping further, dragging you back.

Back to the war.

Back to the moment everything collapsed.

The tunnel shook violently, a deep, shuddering roar of earth breaking apart. Someone screamed, sharp, panicked, before it was swallowed by the dust.

You were thrown against the dirt wall, your ears ringing so loud the world became muffled. Your lungs burned, choking on the thick air, dust coating the inside of your throat.

Move. Get up. Get to them.

Your body responded before your mind caught up, your hands blindly searching through the darkness, the only source of light now a dim, flickering lantern hanging from a bent nail in the wooden beams overhead.

Men were buried.

Buried alive.

You could hear the groans, the coughing, the desperate scraping of fingers against dirt. But one voice cut through it all.

Sharp. Ragged.

“Get the fuck off me–”

Your stomach lurched as you stumbled toward the sound.

And then you saw him.

You didn’t know it at the time, but Thomas Shelby laid, pinned beneath a collapsed beam, his face half-covered in blood and dirt. His breaths were ragged, sharp, labored.

A different kind of panic surged through you.

You dropped to your knees, hands immediately pressing against his shoulder, assessing the damage. “You’re alright,” you murmured, voice hoarse. “Just hold still.”

Tommy let out a rough, breathless laugh. “Not sure I’d call this alright, love,” he had said.

Your fingers trembled as they ghosted over his side, pressing against the warmth of blood soaking through his uniform. You forced yourself to focus.

The tunnel was still shifting, the wooden supports creaking under the pressure, dirt spilling from the cracks above. You didn’t have time.

A sharp snap jolted through the air– another support beam groaning, giving way.

You grabbed the front of Tommy’s uniform and shook him. “We have to move. Now.”

He gritted his teeth, trying to push himself up, but the pain hit him fast. His body tensed, his jaw locking, his breath coming too sharp.

Your hands pressed against his ribs, trying to still him. "You're bleeding."

He let out a low huff, the ghost of a smirk curling at the edge of his lips despite the blood smeared there. “Well, you’re the nurse.”

The tunnel groaned again.

Your heart hammered. You didn’t think. You just moved. Hooking your hands under his arm, you heaved, ignoring the burning in your muscles, the way the earth beneath you shook as more dirt rained down.

Tommy let out a strangled groan, his body half-collapsing against you as you pulled him free.

And then, a deafening crack. The lantern snapped from its post, shattering against the ground. The sounds of earth groaning, collapsing. The shouts of men, frantic and panicked. The crushing weight of dirt swallowing everything whole. And the tunnel went dark.

Suddenly, you felt a sharp, stinging slap across your cheek.

Your breath hitched, your body tensing on instinct, but your limbs were too weak to react. The pain in your ribs burned, sharp and unrelenting, as your vision swam back into the dimly lit room. Not in France.

Campbell loomed above you, his lips curling into something cold. “Still with me?” he murmured, tilting his head.

You blinked slowly, your mind still half-stuck somewhere else, the sound of collapsing dirt still echoing in your ears.

Campbell hummed, brushing his fingers against his coat. “Thought I lost you there for a moment.”

Your stomach churned. Because for a brief second, you wished he had.

Your body felt like it was failing. Not just from the beatings, not just from the bruises blooming beneath your skin like storm clouds. Something deeper. Hot. Burning.

Every breath hurt. A dull, twisting agony settled in your ribs, making it harder and harder to fill your lungs. Campbell was still speaking, still taunting, but his voice was distant, warped like sound traveling through water.

Your head lolled slightly against the back of the chair, your vision flickering at the edges.

A fever. Possibly an infection.

Campbell sighed, stepping closer, his shadow stretching across the dimly lit room. “Oh, dear,” he murmured, feigning concern. “You don’t look well.”

You forced yourself to swallow, but even that made your throat ache.

He crouched slightly, examining you like an animal on display. “You can feel it, can’t you?” His voice dipped lower. “The way your body is starting to shut down?”

Your stomach twisted, nausea rolling in sharp waves. You clenched your jaw. You wouldn’t answer him.

Campbell hummed, as if your silence only amused him further. “I have to say, you lasted longer than I expected. I’ll give you that.” He straightened, adjusting his coat.

Campbell let out a soft tsk. “And here I thought we had more time together.” He leaned down, his voice dropping into something mockingly gentle.

A sharp wave of dizziness crashed over you. The room tilted. Your ribs screamed in protest as your body lurched, a strangled sound escaping your throat as you gasped for air.

Campbell smirked. “Oh, my dear,” he sighed, shaking his head. “That doesn’t sound good at all.”

He tapped two fingers against your bruised cheek, his touch mocking, cruel. “What do you think? A few more hours? Another day? What will give out first?” He tilted his head, eyes gleaming with delight. “Your body or your mind?”

Campbell sighed, as if bored. “Not much left in you now, is there?” His fingers drifted to your pulse point, pressing just enough to feel the weak, rapid flutter beneath your skin. “I wonder how much longer this little heart of yours will keep going before it just–”

Suddenly, a sharp thud echoed from outside the door, causing Campbell to still.

His head tilted slightly toward the sound. Another noise. A shuffle of boots. A low murmur.

Campbell exhaled through his nose, straightening his coat as he stepped away from you. His eyes flickered toward his men– two of them, positioned near the walls.

One of them, a burly man with a scar splitting his lip, turned toward the door, brows furrowing. “You expecting someone, sir?”

Campbell shook his head. “No. Go look.”

The two men near the wall exchanged a look before nodding, moving toward the door with practiced caution.

The cold air rushed in as one of them cracked the door open, peering into the dimly lit corridor beyond. You could hear the faint shuffle of movement outside, something just out of reach, something not quite right. They slipped through the door, their shadows stretching long against the floor.

A long, tense silence followed. But it was quickly interrupted by a gunshot– sharp, violent, deafening.

Your sluggish, fevered mind barely processed it before another one followed.

Then another. Closer this time. Shouts erupted from the corridor– panicked, frantic, then cut short.

Campbell’s entire posture stiffened. His gaze flicked toward the door, then to you, calculation spinning behind his eyes.

Then, he moved.

Before you could react, before your battered body could even try to resist, his hand fisted in the collar of your shirt and yanked you forward.

A sharp, searing pain exploded in your ribs, your legs buckling under the weight of your own body as Campbell hauled you out of the chair.

A sharp, metallic click rang in your ears, the sound of a revolver being cocked. And then, the cold, unmistakable press of steel against your ribs.

He barely let you find your footing before dragging you toward the back entrance.

“Change of plans,” he muttered, voice tight with something dark. “Walk,” he ordered, his grip tightening, the barrel of the gun digging harder into your side.

Your boots scraped against the floor, legs barely cooperating as he kept moving, his grip unyielding, brutal.

Your vision swam, the fever weighing you down like molten iron, but you understood.

He wasn’t going to let you be found.

He was taking you with him.

The hallway was long and dimly lit, the flickering light from an overhead bulb casting warped shadows against the damp, crumbling walls.

Campbell dragged you forward, his grip iron-tight, fingers digging painfully into your upper arm as he pulled you through the corridor. Your legs barely cooperated, heavy and sluggish beneath you, the fever turning your body into something unresponsive, something weak.

You stumbled, your boots scuffing against the floor again. He let out a sharp snarl of frustration.

“Keep up,” he snapped, jerking you forward so hard your vision blurred.

You tried– tried to force your feet to move faster, tried to keep pace, but your body wasn’t working the way it should, your ribs screaming with every step.

You tripped again, your knees nearly buckling. Campbell let out a curse and yanked you forward.

“Useless,” he hissed. “Absolutely fucking useless.”

Before you could brace for it, he shoved open the back door, the damp night air crashing into you like a wave of ice.

The alley beyond the mill was narrow and dark, the air thick with the smell of wet brick and sewage. The second your boots hit the pavement, your legs gave out. Your body collapsed to the ground, hitting the cold stone with a dull thud. You barely had time to breathe before Campbell’s rage erupted.

“Get up!” he bellowed, his voice sharp, enraged, echoing off the alley walls.

You tried to push yourself up, but your arms trembled violently beneath you, the fever and exhaustion dragging you down.

A shadow loomed over you. Then, a hand fisting in the back of your shirt. He yanked you up with brutal force, your body jerking limply in his grip. The sudden motion sent a fresh wave of nausea rolling through you, the fever making your vision swim.

And then– a blinding, shattering pain as Campbell slammed your entire body against the back alley wall. Before you could brace yourself, your head snapped whipped to the side, colliding with stone.

A sharp crack echoed in the side of your skull, white-hot agony splintering through your mind. Your body seized, the impact sending a violent shockwave through you. For a moment, everything flickered. The world blurred, warped, then tilted sideways.

Your ears rang. The taste of copper flooded your mouth. Somewhere in the distance, Campbell was saying something. Laughing. Mocking. But you couldn’t focus. Couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t even tell if you were still upright or if you’d already started to collapse.

A slow, creeping warmth trickled down your temple, thick and wet– blood.

Campbell was on top of you before you could even react, his weight pressing you down into the pavement. The fear was worse than the pain.

“Ah,” Campbell murmured, his breath hot against your face, his hand pinning your shoulder down hard. “So this is how you want to play it?”

Your chest rose and fell too fast, panic clawing at your throat. And your head– God, there was a brutal, relentless pounding throbbed at the base of your skull, each pulse like a hammer driving nails into your brain.

The nausea curled hot and sour in your stomach, your vision tilting, shifting, like the ground itself was unstable beneath you.

He let out a low, breathy chuckle, shifting his weight deliberately against you.

“You always were stubborn,” he murmured, voice mockingly soft as he pressed you further into the ground.

Then, his other hand moved. Lower. Fingers gripping the fabric of your shirt.

And then– a sharp, violent tear. The sound ripped through the night, a shock of cold air hitting your skin as the fabric split beneath his grasp. You struggled, grasping at the ground, your body desperately trying to fight back, but he was too strong.

His knees caged you in, his weight an immovable force. The smell of whiskey and sweat and gunpowder filled your nose.

And then– you felt him. Hard. Pressing against you.

Your lungs seized. Your heartbeat thundered in your ears.

No.

A wave of sickening nausea rolled through you, worse than the fever, worse than the pain. It was raw, visceral, a deep, twisting horror in your gut. Panic exploded in your chest, clawing at your ribs, making your breath come in short, desperate gasps.

You thrashed– screamed. But exhaustion and sickness kept you pinned.

Campbell just laughed. His weight shifted, his hips pressing harder against you, grinding down just enough for you to feel the shape of him through his trousers.

Your stomach turned.

“Oh, love,” he murmured, his fingers dragging slowly, deliberately over exposed skin. “You should’ve learned by now, I like it when you struggle.”

A choked sob caught in your throat. “Get off of me!” you screamed, with everything you had left.

Campbell leaned in, his lips brushing the shell of your ear. “Fight all you want,” he murmured, grinding his hips against yours again, pressing you further into the ground. “No one is coming for you.”

Your body betrayed you, freezing, seizing up. Your heartbeat hammered against your ribs, a wild, erratic drumbeat of terror and helplessness, but you couldn't move. Your vision blurred, spots of darkness creeping into the edges.

You wished for it.

For death.

For an end.

Because this– this was worse. Because this was the moment that would break you.

And if Tommy really wasn’t coming, if no one was coming–

You didn’t want to survive it.

As Campbell’s hands pressed harder, as his hot breath ghosted against your throat, as he ground his body against yours– for the first time since the war, you prayed.

Not for rescue.

Not for mercy.

For the darkness to take you before he could.

But fate had other plans.

Because the gunshot rang out before the darkness could take you– A brutal, deafening crack ripped through the night.

Campbell’s entire body jerked violently.

Blood splattered warm across your face.

The force of the bullet sent him reeling, his body twisting as he collapsed onto the ground beside you, his weight finally off you.

You sucked in a ragged breath, chest heaving, trying to scramble away, but your body barely cooperated. Your ribs screamed in protest, your vision swam, and you barely managed to drag yourself back a few inches, your torn clothes hanging off your trembling frame.

Your breath was still coming too fast, too shallow, panic coiling tight in your gut.

John Shelby stood at the edge of the alley, gun still raised, his chest rising and falling sharply.

“I got him!” he yelled back toward the street, voice urgent, shaken. “I fucking got him!”

Then, John’s eyes landed on you, and his expression shifted into a look of pure horror.

Before you could react, Campbell let out a wet, guttural wheeze. He was still alive. He lay on his back beside you, blood pooling beneath him, his lips parting as he sputtered, a faint, broken chuckle escaping through the pain.

Your body shook, too weak to move further, too weak to do anything but stare. Your head throbbed violently, the relentless pounding deep in your skull making it hard to think, hard to breathe. Warmth trickled down your face, sticky and thick, pooling at your brow, slipping into your lashes. Blood.

Yours. His.

You couldn’t tell whose was whose at this point. But it blurred your vision, staining everything red, the world twisting in and out of focus.

Campbell gurgled beside you, sputtering, his own life spilling out onto the ground.

And then– you vaguely heard another pair of footsteps. Your vision swam as you tried to process what was happening.

But Tommy moved past you without a word, his boots splashing through Campbell’s blood. And then– he was on him. Tommy dropped to his knees, straddling Campbell’s chest, and the first punch landed hard.

A sickening crack. Then another. And another.

Campbell’s head jerked violently with every hit, his body already too weak to resist, but Tommy didn’t stop.

His knuckles split, blood smearing across his skin, but the pain didn’t register. Only rage. Only vengeance.

Punch after brutal punch, his body moving with sheer force, years of fury and hatred pouring into every single blow. Campbell coughed, his chest rattling, but the laughter was gone now.

Tommy didn’t stop– he didn’t hear the voices shouting behind him.

Just like you didn’t hear John moving toward you. Not until you felt a gentle hand on your shoulder.

The instant his touch met your skin, you flinched violently, every nerve in your body igniting with panic.

“Get off me!”

Your voice was wrecked, hoarse, barely more than a raw, desperate gasp.

Instinct overruled recognition. It didn’t matter who it was. Didn’t matter that the danger was gone.

All your body knew was fear.

John immediately pulled back, his hands up, his face twisted with something between concern and horror.

“Hey, hey, it’s just me,” he said quickly, voice low, soothing. “It’s just me, yeah?”

But your body wouldn’t stop trembling. “J-John?” you whispered.

He nodded slowly, causing your breath to hitch. It was a sharp, ragged sound. John stared at you– helpless. Because even though he was right there, even though you were safe now, you sure as hell didn’t feel safe.

Before you could apologize for shouting at him, Arthur was rushing over, breath coming heavy, taking in the scene before him in one sharp glance.

Tommy was still on top of Campbell, still swinging, his knuckles covered in blood, Campbell’s and his own.

Arthur didn’t hesitate. He grabbed the back of Tommy’s coat and hauled him off.

“Enough, Tom. He’s gone!” Arthur barked, his grip tight, unyielding. “It’s done! It’s fucking done!”

Tommy struggled, still burning with rage, his body coiled so tight he was shaking.

And then, through the chaos, he heard you just as you let out a choked, broken sob.

The sound cut through him like a blade. His body stilled. And for the first time since he entered the alley, he turned.

The second Tommy saw you, bleeding, trembling, gasping for breath, everything else ceased to exist.

He rushed to you, dropping to his knees so fast the gravel scraped against his boots.

You were barely sitting up, your arms shaking under your own weight, your ripped clothes hanging loose. Your chest heaved, every breath sounding like a struggle, your eyes wide, unfocused. And your head– a relentless, pounding ache throbbed behind your eyes, radiating from the gash at your temple, the warmth of fresh blood slipping down the side of your face.

The pain was blinding, suffocating, like your skull was splitting open with every ragged breath you took.

The world tilted, the edges blurring, but then– Tommy’s hands found your face, cradling it gently, his thumbs skimming over your bruised, bloodied skin, his own fingers shaking.

“Hey, hey, hey,” his voice was low, urgent, breaking at the edges. “Where are you hurt?”

You just stared at him. Mouth parted. Silent. You couldn’t speak. Couldn’t form words. Couldn’t breathe through the wreckage of everything that had just happened.

Your body shook violently.

Tommy’s brows furrowed, panicked.

His hands swept lower, skimming down your arms, across your ribs. His eyes scanned you, sharp, assessing, taking in every injury, every wound, every fucking thing Campbell had done.

And then– his gaze caught on the blood trailing down the side of your face.

His jaw tightened. Gently, carefully, he reached up, his fingers threading into your hair. You barely reacted, too exhausted, too lost in the haze of pain and fever.

Tommy’s fingers found the gash hidden beneath your hairline, and when he brushed against it, you winced.

His breath came sharp, uneven. “Shit,” he murmured, his thumb ghosting over the wound, careful not to press too hard.

The blood was still fresh, still warm, mixing with the dried streaks smeared across your skin– his blood, your blood, Campbell’s blood.

He swallowed hard, his grip gentler now, soothing.

His voice softened, just slightly. “Love,” he murmured, so quiet, like he was afraid you’d break apart completely. “I need you to tell me where it hurts.”

Your lips trembled. You tried, tried so hard, but the words wouldn’t come. A choked, ragged croak escaped your lips instead. And then, you sobbed. Not loud. Not even fully. Just a small, broken sound, barely more than a breath.

And Tommy felt something inside him snap. Your sob barely left your lips before he was moving again. Carefully and deliberately, his arms slid beneath you, one under your knees, the other around your back, securing you against his chest. The second he lifted you, a sharp, searing pain tore through your ribs, and you let out a broken cry.

Tommy’s hold tightened instinctively. “I know,” he murmured, his lips brushing against your hair, his breath shaky, uneven. “I know. I’ve got you.”

You barely registered anything else– not the cold night air, not the distant sound of voices, not the way your torn clothes left you far too exposed.

Only him and his warmth, his heartbeat against your ear– the scent of gunpowder and whiskey and home. He tucked you closer, pressing your cheek to his collarbone, his jaw resting lightly against your temple. “I’ve got you,” he murmured, voice low, steady, even as his own hands trembled. “Let’s get you out of here.”

His grip never wavered as he turned toward his brothers. “Arthur, get the car around.”

Arthur nodded without hesitation, already moving, disappearing down the alley.

Tommy’s gaze snapped to John. “Get rid of the body.”

John’s face was still stricken, pale, but he gave a curt nod. “Yeah. Yeah, alright.”

And just like that, it was done.

Tommy didn’t wait. Didn’t look back. Didn’t hesitate. He just walked. Carrying you out of the alley, away from the wreckage, away from everything Campbell had done to you.

For the first time in two days, you were leaving hell behind.

The car skidded to a stop in the road, the tires grinding against the wet cobblestone as Arthur threw it into park.

Tommy shifted your weight in his arms and carefully maneuvered you inside the cab, one hand bracing the back of your head as he lowered you onto the seat. The second your back hit the worn leather, a sharp burn tore through your ribs.

You let out a weak, pained whimper, your fingers gripping at nothing.

Tommy grimaced. “I know, love,” he murmured, tucking his coat around you, his hands gentle despite the war still raging behind his eyes. “I know it hurts.”

His voice was soft, quiet, but his hands were steady as he pulled the car door shut beside you and settled in.

Arthur didn’t ask questions. He just pressed his foot to the gas, and the car lurched forward, pulling you both away from the alley, away from the blood, away from Campbell.

The city lights blurred past the window, but you could barely focus.

Everything hurt.

A relentless, burning pain curling under your ribs, along your bruised skin, up into your aching skull. Tommy’s hand found yours, his fingers wrapping around your weak grip.

His voice was low, firm. “I need you to stay awake, yeah?”

You blinked slowly, sluggishly. The fever was still there, your body aching, and the familiar pull of unconsciousness was beckoning, dragging you under.

Your head throbbed. The relentless pounding pulsated behind your eyes, radiating from the gash hidden beneath your hair. Everything felt heavy.

Your skull, your limbs, your chest, it was all too much.

The world tilted, the sounds around you muffled, distant, like you were already slipping away.

But then– Tommy’s fingers tightened. “Stay with me,” he said again, his voice rough with something he wasn’t ready to name.

You swallowed, tried to focus on him and breathe through the pain. But every inhale set your ribs on fire. Every bump in the road made your skull feel like it would explode.

Tommy’s jaw clenched. “Tell me what’s hurting.”

Your lips parted, but it took a moment to force the words out.

“Head,” you murmured.

His grip on your hand tightened slightly. You took another shallow breath.

“Ribs,” you rasped.

Tommy’s expression darkened. His throat worked as he swallowed. “What else?”

You were slipping, exhaustion weighing you down.

“Can’t–” Your breath hitched. “Can’t breathe deep.”

Tommy’s stomach twisted. He exhaled sharply through his nose, trying to steady himself. Trying to stay in control.

You blinked sluggishly, the movement slow, wrong. The world was fading at the edges. Shapes weren’t holding. Shadows bled into one another.

And then, the realization hit.

A choked, panicked breath left your lips, your fingers grasping weakly at his coat.

“Tommy–” your voice was small, fractured.

His hand tightened around yours. “I’m right here.”

You swallowed, struggling to get the words out.

“I–” Your voice shook. “I can’t see.”

Tommy stilled.

The words hung between you, heavy, suffocating. Your heart pounded painfully against your ribs, your breath quicker now, uneven.

“I–” your fingers curled into his shirt, desperate. “It’s– it’s dark, I can’t–”

“Shh.” His hands framed your face, his thumbs brushing over your temples. “It’s alright, love. You’re alright.”

But he was shaken. You could feel it in the way his hands trembled just slightly against your skin.

Tommy’s grip on you tightened. Not hard. Not painful. Anchoring.

But it didn’t matter– because you were slipping.

Your chest tightened, panic crawling up your throat like ivy.

“Tommy,” you whispered, voice fragile, breaking. “I’m scared–”

Tommy reacted instantly. His hands left your face and slammed against the front seat.

“Arthur. Drive faster.”

Arthur, still gripping the wheel, snapped his head toward the rear view mirror.

“Tom–”

“Drive the fucking car, Arthur!”

The urgency in Tommy’s voice was razor-sharp, slicing through whatever hesitation lingered in the air.

Arthur gritted his teeth, pressing his foot down hard.

The car lurched forward, tires grinding against wet cobblestone as they sped through the streets of Birmingham.

“Where the fuck am I going?” he asked.

Tommy barely looked at him.

His gaze was locked on you, on your pale face, on the blood that hadn’t stopped dripping from your temple.

His jaw clenched. “The bloody hospital.”

“Tom–” He hesitated, throwing a quick glance his way before shifting his focus back to the road. “You just killed a bloody police officer… You really think that’s a good idea?”

Tommy’s head snapped up.

His eyes were burning.

“I don’t give a fuck if it’s a good idea.” His voice was low, dangerous, barely contained. “She needs a hospital.”

Arthur muttered a curse under his breath, but he didn’t argue.

He just drove.

Tommy held you tighter, his grip firm but careful, like he thought you might slip through his fingers if he wasn’t careful enough.

His touch was the only thing grounding you. His voice, low and steady, was just a murmur at the edge of your consciousness. You couldn’t make out the words anymore.

The pounding in your skull was pulling you under. The world was tilting, slipping.

Your eyes fluttered, your breath hitching as a deep, creeping tiredness settled into your bones.

And then– his touch. Tommy’s thumb brushed against your temple, rubbing soft, soothing circles into your skin.

A quiet comfort. A silent promise.

You focused on it– on the rhythmic motion, on the warmth of his touch, until the darkness swallowed you whole.

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#tommy shelby x reader #peaky blinders x reader #tommy shelby fanfic #tommy shelby x y/n #peaky blinders #tommy shelby x you #tommy shelby #peaky blinder imagine #peaky blinder fanfic #peaky blinders x y/n

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wheredidhiseyebrowsgo · 4 months ago

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Heyyy!!! Hope this ask finds you well! I’m looking for all the Alpha Stiles fics! Long and smutty, if they exist! Please and thank you so much!!

Sure.

Wild Heart by giidas (KatushkaK)

(1/1 I 2,301 I Mature)

“And no, I did not get us a room,” Derek adds, just to be sure.“Let me get us one, then. Any preferences?”Derek lifts his eyebrows and gives Stiles his best are-you-being-serious-right-now look.Stiles honest to god laughs out loud, startling Derek by clapping him on the shoulder and saying: “Oh, I like you already, so much sass!” and then goes off to procure a key to a room.

My Alpha, My Pack, My Family. by Ladyofthe_Alpha

(7/? I 12,303 I Explicit)

Derek finds himself is a position where every Alpha wants him. Will this mysterious powerful Alpha help him find his place in his pack? Or will he be another Alpha looking to get an in with the powerful Hale Pack?

You're All I've Ever Needed by siriuslyuptonogood

(6/? I 14,047 I Explicit)

Stiles Stilinski has never needed Derek Hale, but Derek Hale has always needed Stiles Stilinksi.

"I don't need you, Derek" sent Derek away from Beacon Hills, back to New York, and he would like to think he's never looked back. He hasn't gone back, at least. Maybe he never will. He's happy in the city, has tons of hot, kinky sex with hotter-than-the-sun alphas, is completely satisfied. He doesn't need a pack. When one alpha breaks it off, there's another to replace him. It's New York. There are 8.5 million people. He's not worried. He's not lonely. No, not him.

Except, he's thirty-three, and it's been seven years since he left Beacon Hills, seven years since he's had someone in his life longer than three or four months at a time. He isn't sure what he needs anymore, but he has a feeling it definitely isn't this.

When the Tables are Turned by BeniMaiko

(5/5 I 16,690 I Explicit)

Derek has to deal with a newly bitten Stiles.

You Gotta Roll with the Punches by quicksylver28

(12/12 I 34,787 I Teen)

Stiles Always thought that he was pretty well adjusted for a kid.When his best friend Scott had an asthma attack when he was six, Stiles said 'ok' and held his hand through it. When his mother dies when he was nine, and his Father's soul mark crumbled off his skin like ash, he said 'ok' and picked up the broken pieces of their lives. When his soul mark blossomed on the skin just above his heart and he realizes that his true loves first words would be "FUCK OFF", he said 'ok' and braced himself for having his heart kicked in the ass.

We're The Wild Ones, Raised By Wolves. by halelujah

(12/? I 54,290 I Mature)

"Your uncle not only killed people, he bit Scott unlawfully and without his consent, he also put a big, red target on our backs." Stiles continues calmly, folding her arms across her chest. She can't help but glare. "An action that I'm now going to reap the repercussions for."

"He wasn't yours to kill!" Derek rumbles, icy blue flashing in his eyes. "He murdered Laura!"

She sees the decision in Derek's eyes before it even turns in his mind that he should attack. As she watches Derek's muscles twitch and tense, she lets out a sharp bark, one that tells Scott to stay out of it, before she meets Derek head on, eyes burning crimson.

[Or the fic where Stiles has always been a werewolf, an Alpha and female.]

Who Are You Really? by mercury_caduceus

(11/11 i 63,021 I Mature)

After hiding his werewolf and Alpha status since his mother died, Stiles runs into Derek and they work together to find the Alpha killing people in Beacon Hills. [Set in Season 1. Alpha!Stiles, Beta!Derek.] I will be continuing this slowly.

White Rabbit by BlueEyedBetaMeow

(13/? I 84,272 I Teen)

When Stiles begins to piece together that his friends are avoiding him, and why, he begins to wonder why they ever saved him from the Nogitsune to begin with. When a terrible turn of events takes place in the Preserve, and the only thing that can save him is the bite, will the pack forget the misgivings between them, or will he be left to suffer?

Underneath by groffiction

(43/? I 190,576 I Explicit)

AU, where Stiles gets bitten by a Cyger – a type of rare Weretiger around the same time Scott gets bitten by Peter. Confused and more than a bit freaked out, they both are naturally suspicious when Derek shows up out of the blue. Still, there is something about the moody, aloof werewolf that both intrigues and draws Stiles to Derek like a moth to a flame. But, everyone knows that if you get close enough to touch flames, you get burned. However, with the promise of love, is that burning sacrifice worth it? And how does a Weretiger and a Werewolf even work as mates? Very loose canon through season 1 and season 2 of Teen Wolf. Might have some things from Season 3, depending on where the story leads.

#teen wolf #sterek #stiles stilinski #derek hale #alpha!stiles #anon

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sinnabarmoth · 4 months ago

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Tribute for the Dragon (1/18)

Pairing: Dragon|Sylus x Fem|Reader

Summary: Reader is sent up the mountain as a sacrifice to the dragon in exchange for his help protecting her village. The dragon is not what she was expecting, neither was his offer.

Content Warnings: None

Length: 3k

Chapters: (2) (3) (4) (5) (6) (7) (8) (9) (10) (11) (12) (13) (14) (15) (16) (17) (18)

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Never did you think the village would rejoice a dragon moving into the nearby mountain. But that was before the war had taken its toll and all the young able bodied men from your village. Now, with your town so close to the border, you realized how dangerous a position your home was in. Foreign bandits had already come through more than once to disturb the peace of your village and make off with whatever they could carry. It was a hardship you could not sustain.

So when someone said they had spotted a dragon flying around the nearby mountain it was not seen as an ill omen, but perhaps a miracle in disguise. If you could somehow make a contract with this dragon to protect the village, then you would not fear bandits any longer. The only problem then was, what do you offer a dragon? Most of the valuables in town had been pilfered by bandits already and giving up any more would mean you could no longer trade or order needed supplies.

If stories of dragons had taught you anything, one things dragons valued as much as gold was a beautiful maiden. It was all your village had to offer and it was soon agreed that the loss of one life to save the many was a worthy sacrifice.

Every maiden in the village that was of age was to put their name in a raffle. Whosoever’s name was drawn would be the sacrifice. Maybe it was destiny or a cruel joke that you heard your name called that fateful grey morning. In an instant you were no longer a part of the village, daughter to the local glassmaker, you were to be given as tribute to the dragon in hopes of protecting your village. A sacrifice.

There was nothing for you to pack to go up the mountain. Why would there be? You were just going up there to die anyway. You could only pray the dragon would make it quick and that they did indeed hold up their side of the bargain you needed to make.

You sat in your bedroom for the last time as you were done up by the other women in the village. Sacrifices had to be their most beautiful before they were devoured. Beautiful clothes. Jewelry. Your hair and make up done just so. It would have made you feel like a princess if it were not for the fact you knew what it was all for.

The only part of you that was not prettied by your entourage of misty-eyed peers were your shoes. Climbing the mountain in the dress was already going to be hard enough. You weren’t going to suffer in delicate silk slippers all the way too. The dragon wouldn’t be able to see your old boots under the dress anyway.

When it was all over everyone filed out of your room to give you some privacy, and a chance to say your final goodbyes to your father.

You had not seen him since the women had come over to help you bathe and dress. He stood in the doorway now, face gleaming with sweat and eyes shining with tears.

“Father,” you shot from your seat and hugged him tight.

“You’re going to ruin your dress hugging me. I’m filthy from work.”

“I don’t care.” you cried into his chest.

“My sweet pea,” he sighed, hugging you back fiercely. “You say the word and we’ll leave. We’ll hop on a pair of horses and run from the village. Let them sacrifice someone else to this dragon.”

You wiped your eyes, not caring if your make up was smudged or not. “If not me, it will be someone else’s daughter or sister or friend. And if it protects you, then I think it worthwhile.”

“You’re my daughter. You’re not supposed to sacrifice anything for your parents, that’s our job.” he brushed the tears from his eyes, “You do not have to do this. We can find another way.”

“If we do nothing then the village will not survive. Either one of us dies for a worthy cause or we all watch each other die when our village is raided again. You cannot put everyone ahead of me. I will not let you.” you squeezed his hands. “I don’t want to spend what will most likely be our final moments together arguing over what cannot be changed. Please.”

He sighed, his breathing shaky. “Without you, I have no one. But if there is anything I know about you it is that you are stubborn.” he fished something out of his pocket. “I thought you may not try to run so I made you this.”

In his hands he held out a small glass charm on a simple beaded chain. The charm was of a blood moonflower. He placed it in your hands. “Maybe you’ll fly away too, like the girl in the story.”

You held the memento of your favorite childhood fairy tale close to your heart. “Maybe.” you hugged your father again, “I love you.”

“I love you too, sweet pea.” he pressed a kiss to your forehead and walked you out of the house.

Everyone was waiting outside, lined in two rows to see you off as you walked past them and out of the village. It was a custom for weddings and funerals…you knew which one this was considered. You didn’t dare look back, just kept your gaze straight and your head high as you left the village and began your ascent up the mountain.

Thankfully there was a clear trail up to the top of the mountain. There had been a time when the mountain was being mined for ore but it turned out that not a lot was found inside so after a while it was abandoned. The tunnels that had been carved through it were still there and that was where you suspected the dragon had decided to nest.

You climbed for hours, thanking your foresight to wear your normal boots instead of slippers. Maybe you should have insisted on a horse for this journey. Weren’t pure white horses a part of these maiden sacrifice tales? You already looked less like a beautiful young maiden come to throw yourself at the mercy of a dragon and more like a bedraggled beggar in a pilfered dress.

Your dress covered in dust from the climb, your make up was smudged from crying and sweating, the jewelry felt like it was weighing you down by ten pounds, and you were starving. You could barely manage to eat anything that morning and it was coming back to haunt you now. What did it matter if you were hungry since you were going to be eaten yourself soon anyway?

Finally after what felt like a lifetime of climbing you came to the large open cave entrance of the mountain. Once you stepped inside there was no going back. You could still run. Flee to the next closest village, pawn off the jewelry and live a life of anonymity, cowardice, and guilt. No. You had to do this.

You stood there stuck, trying to find the courage to take that first step inside. “It’ll be over soon. It’ll be over soon. It’ll be over soon.” you whispered to yourself.

“What will be over soon?”

“Gods above!” you shrieked, jumping away from the sudden voice.

You turned around and saw a man, but he was not exactly a man. He certainly looked like a handsome human man with a shock of silver hair. But there was more of nightmare about him than any man you had seen before. His arms were encased in jagged black armor that grew into his chest to a glowing red gem in the center. Tall black horns sprouted from his head and a large scaly tail flicked behind him. It was his eyes that entranced you the most though, out of everything that you had seen in the instant you turned to look at him. His eyes were red as rubies and they glinted as if a fire flickered inside them.

You should have been scared. Whoever this man was he was not entirely human, possibly not human at all despite the initial physique. What came out instead was, “Who in the hells are you?”

His brow furrowed and he crossed his arms over his chest. He spoke in a deep and smooth baritone that shocked you almost as much as his appearance. “You have a lot of gall to travel to someone else’s home and ask who they are so rudely. I want to know why you are here.”

“Your home?” it was your turn to look confused. Suddenly his appearance started to make more sense. “Are you a servant of the dragon that lives in this mountain?

There was a certain mirth that softened his gaze as curiosity settled in. “You seek the dragon? What for? Come to slay him? If so,” he started to circle you slowly, raking his eyes up and down as if he was appraising an expensive vase, “you do not look like much of a warrior.”

“I’m not here to do any slaying, quite the opposite in fact. I’ve come to beseech the dragon’s help.”

“Help? What for?”

“If you must know, my village down in the glen is being threatened by foreign bandits. All the people that would have been capable of defending the villager were taken to join the king’s army, leaving us defenseless. I was sent up here to ask the dragon to protect us…I mean, them.” your hands balled into fists.

“A rather large boon,” he stroked his chin with his sharpened black claws, “And who are you that they sent you and no one else to ask this favor?”

“Hardly a favor.” you scoffed. “I am both messenger and sacrifice. In return for protecting my village I am to give myself over to the dragon.”

“I see.” he stopped his pacing. He gave you one more assessing look then nodded. “Alright. I will accept this offering.”

“What?”

“I said I would accept, in exchange I will protect your little village.”

“Oh no, I need to ask the dragon--”

His tail suddenly lashed out and wrapped around your torso, pulling you close to him. Your heart was beating faster than a hummingbird’s wings. The man wore a bored expression which put you more ill at ease than if he was outright scowling.

“I know I do not look exactly look like my brethren but you do know that humans do not have tails, right?” the tail squeezed you tighter to emphasize his point.

“You are the dragon?” You knew you had never seen a dragon before but from every description that anyone has ever given about them, they certainly did not look like this. If this man was a dragon, did that mean that all dragons had a semi-humanoid form they could shift into? Was he a different breed of dragon no one had ever seen? Or was he lying?

“Obviously.” he released you and you staggered to find your footing again. “Now come along inside, let us discuss this arrangement further.”

You didn’t know if you could trust this person, this dragon. You had come to this mountain prepared to be eaten alive, snapped in the jaws of a huge and terrifying dragon. But if this was the dragon, you had to wonder how he could possibly help your village. You also began to debate if there was something else you should fear from him than mere death.

Without any other options you followed him into the cave, for better or worse. You followed him down a tunnel and came into a room with a firepit in the center and random crates, pans, sacks, and other odds and ends scattered throughout. Off to the side of this mayhem was a table and chairs that he sat down at. You took the other seat still unsure as to what your fate was exactly to be now.

“So you want me to protect your village.” he said. “That is easily done. And in return, you are mine. What is it you provide that makes you so valuable to a dragon?”

“I do not know.” you kept your hands clasped tightly in your lap. “I came up here expecting to die, but if you have more use of me alive than I would have to say I prefer that. Specifics pending, of course.”

“What do you know how to do?”

“I can cook, clean, read, write, have a fair knowledge of sewing, a decent singing voice I suppose, I worked with my father making glass for years, no brilliant or exceedingly special talents I can think of right now.”

“That is already more than enough.” he gestured to the room. “As you can see, this mountain is not exactly in the best shape. I’ve been too busy to clean. So that and cooking can be a part of your duties from now on.”

“Understood.”

“Good.” he nodded. “Now, while you are here you are not to leave. But you will not be treated as a prisoner either. You may go where you wish in mountain, except for few select rooms. But I will be sure to let you know which those are.”

“I understand.” this was going far better than you could have hope. You got to live and your village would be safe and all you had to do was clean? Maybe cook some meals? It was a far step up from death at least!

“For now, I will show you where you will be staying.” he stood up again.

“Staying?” you hurried after him.

“Would you prefer I add you to my hoard?” he asked, his tone light with humor. “You are free to but I doubt you will find the treasure comfortable to sleep on.”

You were led down a series of tunnels, they were illuminated with bioluminescent fungi that grew along the walls. It truly felt as if you had walked into another world. You eventually came to another large room, this one was illuminated with candles though. The glowing mushrooms also grew in here but they stuck more to the ceiling, like little blueish green stars looking down on you.

The room was bare except for a large ornate chest pushed against one wall and a massive bed in the center. How and when did a bed this big end up in this cave?

“I did not know what to expect from a dragon’s fortress but it was not this.” you spun in a circle, taking in the room.

“Did you think I slept on a giant pile of gold coins?” the dragon asked, leaning against the wall.

You shrugged. “Then again, you aren’t what I was expecting to find up here either.”

“Hmph,” he gave you a smug smile. “Goose feather mattresses and silk sheets are much easier on the back. You’ve had a long journey, I will give you time to settle in.”

With that he turned around and left. You stood in the center of the room at a loss for what to do next. You pulled the charm your father had given you out of your pocket and held it close. There was a chance that you could leave the mountain yet. As long as you were nice and didn’t cause trouble the dragon would protect your village, and maybe someday in the future you could convince him to let you return home.

Some time later the dragon called you to come eat. You followed him back to the room you supposed was supposed to be some kind of kitchen and sat down. A plate piled high with meat skewers sat in front of you and nothing else.

“Is this it?” you peered over the pile at him.

The dragon was already biting off a chunk of meat from one of them, juices dribbling down his chin. “I am a dragon, my diet rarely consists of anything else.”

“Right.” you took one of the skewers and bit into it. The meat was tough but it was cooked through at least. “Since I’m going to be living here now, what should I call you?”

“Well,” he leaned back in his chair, “if you are my servant now, that should mean you should call me master.”

Your face burned with the indignity of it but you couldn’t exactly say no in your position. “I see.”

He smiled again, his teeth were just a touch too sharp to be considered human. “Try it.” he said.

You swallowed the dry lump of meat and looked him dead in his eyes. “Thank you for the meal…master.”

His smile grew and you knew he was enjoying this a little too much. He dropped his gaze with a small chuckle. “Yes, well, I am sure you will provide better meals in the future.”

The rest of the meal passed mostly in silence and then you returned to the room you were given. You stripped out of the many adornments and layers of finery until you were in the chemise and nothing else. At least this would be comfortable to sleep in. If you had thought that you weren’t going to die coming up the mountain you would have brought a change of clothes.

You slid into the bed, the fine mattress and sheets did little to ease your tossing and turning as you wondered what your future was to be now.

#love and deepspace #lads sylus #sylus x reader #dragon sylus #lads dragon au

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morgana-larkin · 3 months ago

Text

Alright I wrote this pretty quickly and was able to finish it as I hit a creativity wave. Here is ‘just tired’ part 6. The aftermath from Melissa figuring it out. I wanted to thank whoever sent the lovely compliment about loving the series, it made me smile. Not edited in the slightest and I hope you like it!

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20 Part 21 Part 22 Part 23 Part 24 Part 25 Part 26

Just Tired - Part 6

Warnings: manipulative relationship, swearing

Words: 3k

“NO! NO! NO!” Melissa says as she continues hitting the couch with the pillow. She then suddenly stops and drops to the floor as another tear rolls down her cheek. Just then Joe walks through the door.

“Melissa, you won’t be- what’s going on with you?” He asks her and she snaps her head up and furrows her eyebrows before she looks at him.

“Are you really crying? You’re so sensitive.” He tells her and goes up to her and holds out a hand to help her up but she slaps his hand. “OW! I’m trying to help you up.” He tells her and she stands up.

“I don’t need your help! In fact, I don’t need you.” She says and then she heads upstairs quickly and Joe follows her.

“Melissa, what are you talking about? Come on, you sound crazy.” He tells her and grabs her hand.

“Don’t touch me!” She yells at him and yanks her hand away from him. He grabs her arm and pulls her into him. “AHH!”

“Come on and just calm down.” He tells her as he wraps his arms around her waist.

“I said don’t touch me!” She yells out and tries to get herself out of his grasp. She then elbows him in the nose and he immediately lets go and goes to hold his nose as it starts bleeding.

“YOU BITCH!” He says and she walks to the bedroom and immediately gets Edith out from the bed. He gets in the bedroom and she gets ready to swing.

“Come near me and Edith will meet your head.” She says and he backs away and then goes to the bathroom.

Melissa then gets her suitcase out from under the bed and begins packing some clothes in it. After packing over a weeks worth of outfits, she begins putting some essentials in it, like deodorant, phone charger, a cloth to clean Edith and then she puts her daily makeup in there. She sees Joe get out of the bathroom with some toilet paper on his nose.

“I’m going to go make sure it’s not broken.” He tells her and she flips him off.

Melissa then goes into the bathroom and packs up all her toiletries. After she goes downstairs with everything, grabs a bag and packs the meals she cooked and the things she’ll need for her lunches for the rest of the week. Right before she leaves she goes back upstairs and grabs her 2 family photo albums. After she puts everything in her car she gets in the driver’s seat and drives off. She pulls up to your house, gets out and knocks on the door. A young woman answers it and Melissa doesn’t recognise her.

“Y/n still lives her right?” She asks her.

“Y/N!!! Door is for you!” She yells and Melissa hears footsteps coming down the stairs.

“No need to scream at the top of your lungs Hallie.” You say and you look to see Melissa at the door and Hallie goes upstairs. “Melissa? I thought you weren’t speaking to me.” You say and then you look at her eyes. “Have you been crying?” You ask her and she nods.

“You were right, all of it. About Joe and me.” She tells you and you immediately step aside and let her in.

“How about you go sit on the couch and I’ll go make you a hot chocolate.” You tell her and she looks at you. “I don’t have alcohol here.” You add and she goes to sit on the couch. You return a couple minutes later and hand her the mug.

“Thank you.” She says and you nod as you take a seat beside her.

“What happened?” You ask and she takes a sip before she puts it down and looks at you.

“Earlier today, Barb mentioned that I wouldn’t know a manipulative relationship as I don’t know the signs.” She says and swallows all the build up saliva due to her crying earlier. “Well, when I got home, I wanted to prove both of you wrong so I looked up all the signs and read about all of them. Well it turns out I’m in a manipulative relationship.” She says and starts crying. “Sorry, I shouldn’t be crying.” She says and you put a hand on her shoulder.

“You can cry all you want.” You tell her gently and rub her arm as she looks at you with puffy eyes and wet cheeks. She then suddenly wraps you in a hug and continues crying and you wrap your arms around her and let her cry. A minute later you begin to rub her back and you hear her breath hitch and she begins sniffling, she then lays her head on your shoulder. “It’s ok.” You tell her and you move so your back is against the couch and Melissa can still lay her head on your shoulder.

“It’s not ok, I was with him for over 20 years, I married him 10 years after being with him.” She tells you and lifts her head up. “I spent 25 years being manipulated by that asshole.” She says and puts her head in her hands. “I’m so stupid.” She says and you wrap an arm around her shoulder.

“Melissa, you’re the furthest thing from stupid. You were young, and thought you were in love and had no idea about his intentions.” You tell her and she leans into your body.

“This feels nice, being touched.” She says and you offer her a smile.

“Well I’ll always be up to touch you.” You tell her and she lets out a watery chuckle.

“You’re such a dork.” She says and you shrug.

“Well you came to this dork so I don’t know what to tell you.” You say and she hums.

“I need a place to stay.” She says and you tilt your head. “I have a few things in my car, just a few things I was able to get while Joe is making sure I didn’t break his nose when I elbowed him.” She tells you and you let out a giggle.

“Well I hope you did break it with everything he’s done to you.” You say and she smiles at you.

“Can I stay with you? At least just for the night. I can stay at Barb’s tomorrow but I can’t drive 20 minutes to her place, not with everything swirling around in my head.” She says and you rub her back.

“Of course you can stay here. We don’t have a guest bedroom but you can sleep in my bed tonight.” You offer and she looks at you.

“Trying to get me in bed already?” She asks and you chuckle.

“I’ll sleep on the couch, you can have a double bed all to yourself.” You tell her.

“Well if you have a double then we can share. I mean this couch doesn’t feel comfortable enough to sleep on.” She says and you hum.

“You’re right about that, I’ve slept on it a few times and woke up with a sore back.” You tell her. “But I think you need a place to feel safe right now so I’ll spend the night on the couch.” You tell her.

“I think I’d feel better if someone was with me.” She says and you look at her.

“Are you sure?”

“Please.” She says and you nod.

“Ok, whatever you need.” You say and she places her head on your shoulder before she snaps her head up.

“I have food in my car that needs the fridge.” She says and runs to her car. You go follow her and see her pull out a suitcase and a bag.

“Here let me take the suitcase.” You offer and she shakes her head.

“No, let me, please.” She says and you nod. She goes back inside the house with everything and she places the suitcase near the stairs and brings the bag to the kitchen. “Are you hungry? I got like 10 servings of food in here.” She says and you smile.

“Why am I not surprised? And I would love some if you’re offering.” You tell her and she pulls the food out.

“Where are your plates?” She asks and you walk over and hand her two plates and she puts food on them and puts one in the microwave. “Do you mind if I put some stuff in the fridge?” She asks and you nod.

“Barely anything in the fridge so go for it.” You tell her and she opens it and gasps.

“Why is there condiments, a thing of juice and milk but nothing else?” She says, almost sounding offended.

“Because, not everyone is a chef. My roommate and I mostly survive on microwavable meals.” You say as you lean on the counter.

“Well that is a tragedy.” She says as she puts all her things in the fridge. The microwave starts beeping and she switches the plates. “Here, have a real meal for a change.” She tells you and you get a fork out and start eating.

“You know, that top is very distracting.” You say and she chuckles.

“I was, I guess the term is affection starved. I wanted some compliments and I noticed you seemed to have a crush on me so I wore this to get a compliment from you.” She confesses and you hum.

“You don’t need to reveal your body to get a compliment from me.” You say between bites.

“But my body is what I really needed to have a compliment about.” She says and looks down.

“Well you have a beautiful body, one I would definitely love to kiss all over.” You say and she giggles.

“Thank you.” She says and gets the plate out of the microwave. “Do you have a table or do you eat somewhere else?” She asks you.

“What’s a table?” You ask her and she playfully nudges you and you giggle. “We usually eat on the couch or in our rooms.” You tell her and she nods before going to the couch. “So stupid question, but how are you feeling?” You ask after you both sit on the couch and she thinks about it.

“To be honest, I don’t actually know. I’m still trying to process it.” She tells you and you nod.

“You know, this food is really fucking good.” You say and she smiles.

“Thanks hon.” She tells you.

“So what are you going to do now?” You ask her and she takes a deep breath.

“Well, file for divorce first of all and try to win the house. Then I don’t really know. I spent many years doing what he wants but never what I wanted, so maybe I could finally start living.” She says and you look at her.

“If you want a friend with you then I just started living as well.” You offer and she looks at you.

“I’d like that.” She says with a smile and you clink your forks together.

“Wanna watch a movie?” You ask her and she nods.

“Maybe something with a happy ending.” She says and you go to Disney+.

“What about a classic Disney movie?” You ask her and she nods. “Do you have a favourite one? Or a specific one you want to watch?”

“Wait, I get to choose?” She asks and you nod.

“Of course, why wouldn’t you choose?”

“Joe never let me choose.”

“Well Joe can go fuck himself.” You tell her bluntly and she looks down. “Actually that is exactly what he’ll have to do as he can’t have sex with this beautiful redhead.” You tell her and you see a small smile on her face before she glances back up at you.

“You are just full of compliments, aren’t you?” She asks you and you shrug.

“It helps when there’s someone as adorable as you.” You say and she giggles.

“How about…the original Cinderella?” She asks and you immediately look it up and press play.

You both watch it and Melissa is having fun watching you be so into the movie.

“Been awhile since I saw it.” You tell her as you see her looking at you.

“No, that’s fine, I’m enjoying your reactions.” She tells you and you lean back into the couch and you smile at her before looking back at the movie. She laughs when you get so into bibbidi-bobbidi-boo and you try and get her to sing along to it. You then get to the ballroom scene and she lets out a sigh.

“What is it?” You ask her as you heard her sigh.

“I tried a few times to get Joe to dance with me to that love song, but he always refused.” She tells you and you hum before you grab her hand.

“Come on, let’s dance to it.” You tell her and she looks at you in shock. “Come on.” You say again and you get off the couch and help her up.

You both then walk behind the couch and then ‘so this is love’ starts playing. You place your hand on her waist gently and she places hers on your shoulder. Then you start dancing like they do in the movie and you see a tiny smile on her face and that just gets wider and wider the more you dance. You then suddenly get to do a twirl before getting her to be face to face and your hand back on her waist.

“Thank you.” She tells you and you tilt your head.

“For what?”

“For letting me stay here and for caring about me.” She says and you shrug.

“Even if I didn’t have a crush on you then I still would have wanted to help you.” You tell her and she sighs.

“I still can’t believe it, 25 years in a manipulative relationship.” She says and you get her to look at you.

“It’s not your fault, it’s his.” You tell her sternly and she looks into your eyes. “How could you have known he was manipulating you?” You ask her.

“I could have listened to Barb 15 years ago. That way I would be 33 and still be young enough to live a life. But now I’m 48, old and washed up.” She says and stops dancing.

“You’re not old, Melissa. You’re a beautiful mature woman who can still live a life.” You tell her and she scoffs. “It’s true.” You say and it doesn’t look like she believes you. You look at the time and realise the sun is about to go down so you bring her upstairs to your bedroom window and get her to look out the window. “I have a perfect view of the sunset, and it’s beautiful.” You tell her and she looks at the view and she smiles. “The sun represents a new day, a new beginning. You’re just like the sun, you have a new beginning and it’s never too late to start living.” You tell her.

“It’s beautiful.” She says as she looks at the sunset.

“It is.” You say and she doesn’t notice that you’re looking at her. You both stay watching it for a few minutes before she looks at you.

“I should go get my suitcase and call Barb.” She tells you and you nod.

You follow her downstairs but you go and pause the movie while she brings her suitcase up. You then go upstairs to have a shower now so neither of you have to wake up earlier. You get out of the shower, brush your teeth and hair before you get dressed and you go to your room and knock on the door just in case.

“Come in.” You hear and open the door and see Melissa there in pjs and on her phone. She looks up and sees you there with your hair slightly wet and she can’t help her mind from going places.

“You look nice.” She says with a smile.

“I just had a shower so neither of us have to wake up earlier so we can both take one.” You explain to her and she nods. “But I forgot to bring pjs with me so I’m just getting some and then going to change.”

“Actually, I need to go brush my teeth and hair so you can change in here.” She says and she grabs her toiletries before leaving the room. You get changed quickly and then you go to your side of the bed and take a deep breath. “You sleep on the right side?” You hear and look to see Melissa there and you nod. “That’s perfect because I always sleep on the left.” She says with a smile. She puts her things away before she makes her way over to the bed. You see her turn on her alarms for the morning before putting her phone down.

“Are you really going to work tomorrow?” You ask her and she nods.

“I need the money and it’ll help me take my mind off of things.” She tells you and then she lays down and you follow suit. Melissa lays there and fidgets with her fingers before she notices that you’re trying not to touch her just in case. “Y/n?” She asks and you look at her.

“Ya?”

“If you don’t mind, would you…um… would you put an arm around me?” She asks hesitantly.

“I will if you really want me to but can I ask why?” You ask her.

“Physical touch helps me.” She says softly and you immediately shuffle closer to her. You turn your body to her and carefully put an arm around her waist. She then turns her body to face you and she nuzzles her head on your chest. “Thank you.” She says and you move all the hair out of her face before rubbing her arm.

“Anytime.” You tell her before putting your arm back around her waist and she falls asleep. “Sweet dreams.” You tell her and gently place a kiss on the top of her head before falling asleep yourself.

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#melissa schemmenti x reader #melissa schemmenti x oc #melissa schemmenti x you #melissa schemmenti fanfic #melissa schemmenti #x reader #fanfic #lisa ann walter #law #abbott elementary

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commandershepardvasfuckit · 2 months ago

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An Arranged Marriage, part 31

1.6k words

There’s a difference between knowing it’ll be 2.5 days of travel to Zen’s village and then truly understanding what 2.5 days of travel on foot actually feels like. At least Zen is trying to make it as easy as possible.

(I am feral over my own character, ask box is always open for talking about my writing or just monster fucking in general!)

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Two and a days was not an accurate estimate for how long it would take to get to Zen’s village.

“How much farther is it?” you asked Zen. He had warned you that it usually took him two and a half days to get to his village, but that was walking at his pace. At this point you were kicking yourself for not taking him up on his offer to borrow a horse for you from the royal stables. You had never ridden a horse before and did not want to look silly trying to learn how to on the fly, but that would have been preferable to all this walking at least.

“We are only a few hours outside the city, though at this rate it will take quite a bit longer to get there” he pointed out.

You groaned, somehow it did not sink in before when he told you how long it would take.

“We can stop and rest” he offered.

“We just stopped a little while ago. If we keep stopping so much we’ll never get there.”

“We will get there eventually, and I would rather take our time instead of having you drop dead, so how about we take a break?”

You grumbled your agreement and let Zen unpack some water and food for lunch. It was simple, just some dried fish and other meats, some fruit, and some incredibly dry, dense bread.

“I do not really like it either” he commented as he watched you gnaw at the chunk of bread, “It is an orc thing, and not very good, but it lasts well when traveling.”

You curled up on his lap after both of you were done with lunch, not caring that you were already overheating and Zen was always practically a furnace. Between the heat and all the walking you were exhausted. Without saying anything he leaned back and kept you against his chest until he was entirely laying down. You may have been sticky and sweaty, but he did not seem to care as you laid on top of him.

After an accidental nap and lunch you did feel a bit refreshed though, once more winding your way through the plains with Zen.

“There is a small village on the coast about a day from here, we could stop there and see if they have anyone sailing north we could go with” Zen said.

“Anything to speed this up” you nodded. He might have been used to all this traveling and walking, but you sure were not.

Zen ended up carrying you for a good portion of the rest of the day, though not until after you protested heavily about not needing to be toted around like a child. Regardless, it went much faster at his pace.

As the sun set Zen sat you down in the little cluster of trees next to stream that he decided would make a good camp for the night. Quickly he busied himself with lighting a fire while he sent you to refill the water skins in the stream. It was so quiet being so far from the city, probably the quietest the world had ever been for you.

The sandy, packed earth of the desert around the city had given way to patchy plains many miles ago, which in turn was now fading into a denser grassland with sporadic trees. While it had been just as hot all day, the temperature now that the sun was nearly down was not dropping as much here at least, the grass was able to insulate and hold on to some of the sun’s warmth.

Dinner was the same sort of basic meal as lunch, the two of you sat close together on the bed roll just relaxing. You had never been so tired even though you had only walked half of the day. Zen, while still tired looking, did not seem nearly as exhausted as you and was just happily leaning on you and resting his chin on top of your head.

You reached up to scratch his head, which just made him pull you onto his lap so he could nuzzle you a bit better.

You could feel your pulse rising in your throat, you had not been out of the city since you were attacked over a month ago and all those feelings were bubbling up. You knew for certain that Zen could protect you, that even way out here that he was more than capable of keeping you safe, but right now it was doing nothing to calm you.

“Hey” his voice was soft in your ear, “Are you alright?”

You just shook your head, unable to find words.

“Talk to me, I can tell something is wrong.”

“It’s just been a while since I left the city.”

Clearly he realized what you meant. He hugged on to you a little tighter, “I have you, I will not let anything ever hurt you again, I promise.”

You buried your face into his chest, trying to block out the world with the smell of incense and the sound of his steady heartbeat. He shifted about under you and laid down, pulling you on your his chest and covering you both with the blanket. Like this his tusks were holding up the blanket, making a little tent.

“I promise it is just you and me out here, and if anything gets close Tsov’ka will let me know.”

You nodded into his chest, not actually feeling any better but you appreciated that he was trying to reassure you.

Sleep did not come easy. Every little sound startled you back awake, which then also seemed to wake up Zen. Each time he would rub your back and sing to you until you fell back asleep.

Morning came too soon and Zen woke you for breakfast, the same simple meal as lunch and dinner yesterday. He looked tired, even if he would not admit it, as the two of you set off following the stream to the coast.

“Oh wow” you said. It was not like the rocky, cliff side coast that you knew back home. The water was not gray and churning, instead it was clear and smooth, and the beach was just flat sand littered with shells.

“Have you seen the ocean before?” he asked.

“Not like this, it’s so calm and bright.”

“Come, how about we walk on the shore then.”

You packed your shoes into Zen’s bag and walked where the sea met the land. Gentle waves ran over your feet while you kept bending down to pick up shells, the hem of your skirt was getting wet but you did not care, you were having fun. Zen held onto the shells you found, carefully tucking your newly found treasures into the pockets of his bag.

“I promise there will be more shells when went get to my village, we still need room in my pack for our clothes” he kissed the top of your head and helped you pack the last of your shells for now.

On the soft sand you quickly got tired as you struggled to keep from sinking into it with every step. Zen on the other hand seemed to have no problem with staying on top of it and soon you ended up with him carrying you once more.

In the distance the first few structures emerged from the horizon, steadily growing in size until it was a small village in the distance. It was not much, maybe a dozen or so houses right on the shore centered around a large fire pit, but it was civilization and possibly the chance to sail the rest of the way to Zen’s village.

Immediately several people flocked around the two of you, chatting with Zen in his tongue and looking at you with curiosity. After a few minutes you were both being ushered to sit down around the fire and being handed food, it was a nice change from the dried rations you had for the last few meals.

“They seem friendly, people you know?” you asked.

“I think I have met a few people here in passing, but no one I know well” he said, “But it does look like there is a few fishermen who planned on sailing north tomorrow morning that we can go with. It will not get us all the way to my village, but we will only be about half a day away then.”

It was nice seeing Zen interacting with everyone, people who were strangers he seemed to talk to like old friends. Periodically he paused to translate and fill you in, though most of it went over your head; updates on other villages or people, chatting about aspects of his culture you did not have analogues for, but it was all the same to you. Really you were feeling to tired to socialize anyway and it was just nice to see him looking so relaxed and happy.

He always seemed happier speaking his own language. He gestured with his hands a lot in his language, unlike when he spoke human common. His pitch and inflection seemed to vary a lot more than when he spoke common versus his relatively flat common, he was just so much more animated.

You leaned against him to get his attention, “Teach me your language.”

“Orcish would be more useful for you, more people speak it back in the city” he said.

“I want to talk to you, like this” you gestured vaguely around, “I like listening when you talk, I want to be able to hear how you really talk and sound.”

You could feel how hard he was purring just from where you where leaning on his arm.

He leaned his head down and nuzzled the top of yours, “Then I would be very happy to teach you.”

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pxnsneverland · 1 year ago

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Something Immortal | Biker!Austin Butler x OC (part 1)

plot summary: In the gritty underbelly of a city ruled by werewolf biker gangs, Austin Butler reigned supreme as the ruthless leader of his pack. A man of unwavering ferocity, he lied, killed, and stole without remorse, living by a code of violence that defined his kind. Yet, even Austin harbored a secret weakness – his childhood friend Bonnie Barlow, the one woman he had loved in silence for years. Bonnie's father had once been part of Austin's gang, but after his death, she fled the treacherous world of the werewolves, unable to stomach the endless cycle of crime and brutality. For five years, she remained a fugitive from her own nature, until a fateful night when her life took an irreversible turn. Freshly released from a two-year prison stint, Austin returned to his pack, reveling in the debauchery of their den. But his revelry was cut short by a frantic call from Bonnie, pleading for his aid. Rushing to her side, he uncovered a grim truth – in a desperate act of self-defense against her abusive boyfriend, Bonnie had taken a life, awakening the dormant werewolf within her. As the next full moon loomed, she would undergo her first agonizing transformation, a fate she had always dreaded. Defying the pack's ruthless code, Austin sheltered Bonnie, guiding her through the excruciating metamorphosis that tore through her body each lunar cycle. In the depths of her torment, their bond rekindled, blossoming into a love they had long suppressed. Nights of shared laughter and reminiscence gave way to stolen moments of tenderness, their connection deepening with every passing moon. Yet, their newfound bliss was a fragile thing, forever threatened by the harsh realities that governed their world. For Bonnie was branded a deserter, her very existence a betrayal in the eyes of the pack. If Austin's treachery was uncovered, retribution would be swift and merciless.

pairings: biker!austin butler x oc

word count: 2746

warnings/notes: violence, mentions of murder, gang activity

Chapter 1: The Alpha's Return

As Austin pushed open the heavy oak door, the overwhelming cacophony of sound hit him like a physical force. The deep bass of the music thrummed through his chest and reverberated in his ears. The mixture of sweat, alcohol, and cigarette smoke assaulted his senses as he made his way into the dimly lit bar. Flickering lights hung haphazardly above the scattered tables and stools, casting shadows that seemed to dance with the rhythm of the music. In one corner of the bar, a group of men gathered around a pool table, their voices loud and boisterous as they cheered on their game. In another corner, a couple was engaged in a heated argument, their voices rising above the din of the bar.

Jerry Thompson, known as 'The Butcher' for his towering stature and imposing presence, immediately spotted Austin from his perch at the bar. Jerry's muscular arms were adorned with intricate tattoos that seemed to come alive with each movement as he stood up to greet Austin. His leather jacket emitted a low creaking sound as he moved, adding to his intimidating aura. With sharp eyes constantly scanning the room, he appeared to be assessing every person and potential threat.

"Austin!" Jerry bellowed with a wide grin, revealing his crooked teeth. Austin returned the gesture with equal enthusiasm and they met in a brief but firm hug, both happy to see each other after so long apart.

"Ace of Spades!" Jerry exclaimed, slapping Austin's back with a hearty laugh. The impact sent vibrations through Austin's body and he couldn't help but grin at his friend's exuberance. His booming voice echoed throughout the dimly-lit bar, drawing the attention of the other patrons. Heads turned, conversations paused, and eyes widened as they caught sight of the alpha in their midst.

"Still got your sense of humor, I see," Austin replied with a smirk. Despite the weariness in his voice, his piercing blue eyes sparkled with a fierce determination that radiated authority. He let his gaze wander around the room, taking in the familiar faces of his pack members and noting the new ones who had joined in his absence. The gang had clearly grown in numbers'.

"The pack's missed you," Jerry said, his deep voice barely audible over the pounding bass of the music. He motioned towards a back booth where a few burly men sat hunched over their drinks, their eyes gleaming under the dim lights. Jerry's eyes darted around the dimly lit room, his body tense with unease. He leaned in closer to Austin, his voice dropping to a low murmur. "Things haven't been easy since you've been gone; a few of the newer guys, they don't respect the code... or you."

Austin straightened up, his gaze sweeping over the assembled group. The tension in his posture was palpable as he issued a silent challenge. "Name them," he demanded, his voice laced with authority and steel.

Jerry seemed to hesitate for a moment, his gaze trailing away from Austin’s intense stare. He let out a deep sigh, the weight of the situation evident on his weathered face. Finally, with a heavy hand he pointed towards the corner of the bar where two young bikers were shooting pool. Their boisterous laughter filled the room, oblivious to the fact that they were being talked about.

“Those two. Dal and Jimmy.” Jerry’s voice was rough and gruff, barely audible above the rowdy crowd. “Think they can run things their way. They’ve been challenging your rules ever since you left.”

Austin’s piercing gaze followed Jerry’s finger and then slowly moved to focus on the two men in question. They seemed hardly more than boys really, their matching leather jackets and cocky attitudes giving off the impression of overgrown pups trying to mark their territory. The sight of them sparked something in his chest - a cold, calculated anger that had him clenching his fists at his sides. “I see.” His words were sharp and clipped, void of any emotion except for a simmering rage that only those who knew him well could detect. With a determined stride, he pushed past Jerry and made a beeline towards Dal and Jimmy who were still engrossed in their game of pool. The tension in the room felt palpable as all eyes turned to watch Austin approach the group of challengers. Austin's body visibly trembles with a mix of rage and anticipation as he approaches the oblivious duo. His broad shoulders square up, ready for a fight, while his icy gaze pierces through them like a sharp blade. The laughter dies down around them as they finally notice the Alpha's approach.

Dal, a lanky man with a scar running down the side of his face, meets Austin's stare with a smug smirk that exudes defiance. Jimmy, shorter and stockier with a wild mop of red hair, takes an instinctive step back in fear and quickly averts his gaze under Austin's intense stare.

With a voice full of authority and malice, Austin addresses them. "You got a problem with my rules?”

Dal's smirk twists into a snarl as he leans back against the pool table, crossing his arms over his chest in challenge. "Our problem ain't with your damn rules, Butler," he spits out Austin's title with contempt. "Our problem is with you.”

The pool stick falls from Dal's grip with a loud clatter as he stands, his eyes blazing with anger. "You've been locked up for two years and now you think you can just waltz back in here and reclaim your throne as alpha?" He takes a threatening step forward, his voice dripping with disdain. "We've managed just fine without you, Butler. Who's to say you're still the strongest?"

"Is that a challenge, Dal?" Austin's voice pierced through the dim bar like a shard of ice, freezing the air around them. His crystal blue eyes glinted with a dangerous intensity as they locked onto Dal, who could feel his heart rate quicken under the alpha’s unwavering stare. The muscles in Austin's arms bulged as he stood tall, crossing them over his broad chest in a show of dominance

Dal shifted uneasily, almost feeling physically pinned under the weight of Austin's intense glare. The smirk on his face vanished, replaced by a fierce determination that hardened his features. Meeting Austin's gaze head-on, he squared his shoulders and spoke with a steely resolve, “Yeah, Butler. It is."

Without warning, Austin lunged at Dal with such ferocious speed that he was nothing but a blur. The crowd's hushed gasps were drowned out by the sickening thud of Austin's fist connecting with Dal's face. A fresh cut on his lip oozed blood as he lay sprawled on the ground, his body trembling with pain and shock.The air in the room seemed to thicken with tension as Dal slowly rose to his feet, wiping the blood away with a shaking hand. His gaze locked onto Austin's, filled with a fiery defiance. Without hesitation, he launched himself at Austin, their bodies colliding in a flurry of fists and grunts. But Austin was a force to be reckoned with, easily overpowering Dal with his brute strength and merciless blows. Each punch landed like a sledgehammer, causing bones to crack and skin to split. The smell of iron permeated the air as blood spilled, staining the floor beneath them. Dal was no match for Austin's relentless assault. A thunderous left hook knocked him off balance, leaving him dazed and stumbling. Before he could regain his bearings, Austin charged at him like a raging animal, slamming him back against the pool table.

Pain exploded through Dal's body as he hit the hard surface, gasping for air as if his lungs had been crushed. He struggled to focus through blurred vision, gazing up at Austin who loomed over him like a giant. With one final burst of strength, Dal tried to push himself up off the table, only to receive a brutal kick to the gut that sent him crashing back down. As he lay there, helpless and defeated, all he could taste was blood and defeat in his mouth.

Austin stood over him, chest heaving and fists clenched. His ice-blue eyes were alight with a victorious glint as he looked down at his conquest. The crowd parted in silence, every pair of eyes glued to the spectacle. Austin’s gaze shifted from Dal to the onlookers, his expression stern and unwavering. His voice rang out clear and commanding through the silence, “Let this be a lesson to all of you - I am your alpha, your leader...and I will not tolerate disloyalty or disrespect in my pack.”

He cast a final glance at Dal, then turned towards Jerry who had been watching the scene unfold from the sidelines. The Butcher's face bore a grimace of satisfaction; he approved of what Austin had done. Austin slowly walked back to him, the crowd parting to make way for their leader.

"Painful but necessary," Jerry muttered as he draped an arm around Austin's shoulder, "hopefully this little display of power will keep them in line."

Austin simply nodded his agreement, keeping his gaze fixed ahead. However, his mind was a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions. He knew that he had needed to assert his authority but the violent encounter left a bitter taste in his mouth. He hoped that no other member would dare to challenge him; he didn't want to shed any more blood of his own pack. But he would stand his ground and uphold order, no matter the cost.

"Well, that was a helluva welcome back party," Jerry chuckled and slapped Austin on the back. The two walked to the exit, their imposing figures outlined by the dimly lit bar behind them. Austin didn’t respond; his thoughts were elsewhere – on Bonnie Barlow. How would she react to tonight's events? Would she be afraid of him...or for him? As Austin sat in his cell, thoughts of Bonnie consumed his mind. She had been his only source of comfort during his time in jail, and now that he was out, she still lingered in his thoughts. It had been five long years since he last saw her, and he couldn't help but wonder how she had been and what she was up to now. Memories of her petite figure and expressive eyes flooded his mind, stirring a mix of emotions within him. Remorse for the mistakes he made and an intense yearning to see her again. His heart clenched at the reality of his situation. He wasn't just a man – he was an alpha, a werewolf. And Bonnie? She was the quiet beauty who had found her way into his heart, and then fled from the violent world he inhabited. Even as he craved to have her back in his life, Austin couldn’t help but acknowledge the bitter truth. The world he ruled with an iron fist was no place for someone as delicate and empathetic as Bonnie.

With a troubling thought gnawing at his mind, Austin abruptly shrugged off Jerry's arm and strode out into the cool, crisp night air. His heavy boots crunched with each step on the gravel path as he made his way to his motorcycle. The machine stood there like a ferocious animal lying in wait, its metallic body glinting in the moonlight.

"Hey, where you off to?" Jerry called after him, but Austin did not even spare a glance as he pulled on his leather gloves and climbed onto his ride. His mind was too cluttered with thoughts of Bonnie, bittersweet memories that brought both solace and a haunting pain.

The engine roared to life beneath him, a low growl that reverberated through the peaceful night. With one last look at the bar where his pack was still celebrating their leader's victorious return, he revved the engine and tore off into the darkness. The wind whipped against his face as he raced down the deserted roads, slicing through the quiet stillness of the night. He welcomed the chilling gusts, hoping they would blow away the weight of remorse weighing on him. But no amount of speed or distance could erase Bonnie's image from his mind or ease the ache in his heart. His thoughts kept returning to that fateful day five years ago when Bonnie had left.

She had vanished into the ether, leaving behind a void in Austin's life that he couldn't fill. No call, no text, no warning. One day, they were holding each other at her father's funeral - her tears staining his shoulder and his arms wrapped tightly around her. The next day, she was gone, taking all traces of herself with her. Austin searched high and low, calling every number he had for her and knocking on every door he could think of. But she had disappeared without a trace, leaving him feeling lost and alone. Weeks turned into months, which turned into years. The uncertainty of not knowing where Bonnie had gone or even if she was still alive weighed heavily on Austin's mind and heart. He would wake up from nightmares, drenched in sweat and trembling, his thoughts consumed by visions of Bonnie being hurt or in danger. As much as he wanted to protect her like he did when they were younger, he couldn't do anything if he didn't even know where she was.

The soft purr of his motorbike echoed through the stillness, offering him a strange sense of tranquility as he veered down onto the dirt path that led home. Austin’s cabin, nestled in the secluded wilderness away from town, was as rugged and unyielding as he was. A shabby structure with weathered timber walls and a roof so worn it seemed to blend into the overcast night sky. Sliding off his bike, Austin crossed the threshold, stepping into the austere living space. Minimalistic and practical just like him. A stone fireplace dominated one wall, its hearth filled with charred logs from a fire long gone. The rest of the furniture was plain and functional - a worn-out couch, a small dining table, and his bed tucked into an alcove.

He shrugged off his leather jacket and made his way to the worn-out armchair by the fireplace, sinking into its familiar comfort. Pouring himself a glass of whiskey from a dusty bottle, he stared at the golden liquid swirling within. Each drop mirrored years of torment and solitude that had gradually gnawed away at his soul. Drinking was not his means to drown the pain; instead, it was more of a ritual – an acknowledgement of his broken spirit and an attempt to numb the hurt festering within. The air around him crackled as he struck a match and brought it close to the dry logs in the hearth. The fire leaped up instantly, hungry flames lapping at the wood while releasing whispers of smoke into the air. Austin watched the dance of the fire, his mind lost in the glowing depths as he sipped from his glass. The warmth of the Scotch spread through him, a perfect foil to the cold emptiness he had grown accustomed to. The silence of his cabin was only broken by the sporadic crackle of the flames and the quiet hum of woodland creatures outside. This solitude was his sanctuary and yet it was also his prison cell.

The tranquil silence was broken in an instant by a shrill ring that made Austin jump. He quickly realized it was his cell phone, a device he hadn't heard from in what seemed like ages. His fingers fumbled for the familiar weight in his pocket, almost forgetting it had been there this whole time. The screen displayed ‘Unknown’ as the call persisted, daring him to answer and reveal the identity of the caller. Who could be reaching out to him, someone he had not seen at the bar? With a deep breath, Austin pressed accept and brought the phone up to his ear.

"Hello?" His voice came out rough and hesitant.

"Austin," said a soft voice on the other end.

Instantly recognizing the voice that had haunted his thoughts for years, Austin's heart began to race in his chest. The drink in his hand suddenly felt like a lead weight, and he carefully set it down on the small wooden table beside him. His fingers trembled slightly as he tightened his grip on the phone, as if it were the only thing anchoring him to reality.

"Bonnie..."

Stay tuned for part 2!! Click HERE to view!

#austin butler #austin butler fanfiction #austin butler fic #austin butler fandom #austin butler fluff #biker!austin butler #austin butler imagine #austin butler elvis #austin butler major gale buck cleven #austin butler smut #austinbutleredit #austin butler feyd rautha #feyd rautha harkonnen #austin butler x you #austin butler x reader #fan fiction #fanfiction #fanfic #fan fic

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awkward-tension-art · 1 year ago

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Darkness on Umbara Chp.1 (Rex x Reader)

Hey everyone! guess whose in too deep!? me! I've clung to these fictional copy-paste men so much, you can call me a fucking LEECH!

Chapter 2. Chapter 3. Chapter 4. Chapter 5. Chapter 6. Chapter 7. Chapter 8. Chapter 9. Chapter 10. Chapter 11. Chapter 12. Chapter 13. Epilogue

Landing on Umbara

cw: Rex x Reader, Reader is a medic, incorrect military procedure, graphic descriptions of injuries, blood, swearing, death and battle, Spoilers for the Umbara Arc, reader insert, reader is gender neutral, no use of (Y/N), if i miss a tag LMK

This is very briefly proofread so I die like a man

Minors DNI, even if theres no smut

Umbara was dark. From what you gathered, it was extremely fucking dark.

You prepared your supplies with Kix. As medics, you both needed to double and triple check every pack, case and box.

Kix would be on the front. His expertise was more front line first-aid rather than your position behind the forces. He would keep the men alive long enough to get to your hands where you’d focus on the more intense medical care. While you would be armed to defend yourself, it was better if you stayed out of the line of direct fire.

Your safety and position were tied to the status you were given. As a natural born human in the GAR, your life was inherently seen as more important than the clones. This thought process was something you were vehemently against. You and your fellow soldiers were on equal ground. You’ve always tried to treat them with respect, kindness and patience.

On several occasions nat-borns would disrespect or belittle clones in your presence, which usually resulted in a verbal lashing from you. Much to the joy of your General Anakin and his padawan Ahsoka.

And the affection of a certain Captain Rex.

You peered up from looking over the medical supplies you were supposed to carry. Currently your secret lover was across the hangar meeting with the Jedi generals, ARC troopers and commander of the 212th.

Despite being in his helmet, you knew you caught his eye. Rex didn’t give anything away except a small movement of his hand. Something Fives didn’t miss, who gave you a small wave.

He knew of your relationship with Rex. So did Anakin. But other than those two, it was secret. All for his protection, as clones were forbidden from romantic partners.

There was a surge of energy in the hangar and you looked around. Your eyes met Kix’s before you nodded to him, “Showtime.” The first wave was loading up ready to get to Umbara’s surface.

“I’ll keep Rex safe until you touch down.” Your medic friend winked at you before he stood, got his helmet on and got to his transport.

Scratch that, Kix knew about you and the captain too.

Several of the gunships lifted, flying from the hangar down to the planet below. The first wave of troops, including ARF troopers, were being sent down to clear the field. From there, a second wave of back-up, your wave, would join them. Your command was temporary. All you had to do was get them to the ground before they took orders from Rex and Anakin.

You adjusted your gauntlet with the communicator on it. T-minus 5 minutes. Your fingers danced over your supplies, double-checking everything you had.

Bandages, tourniquets, laser cauterizers, laser scalpel, bacta, patches, emergency suture kits…

“Ready, doc?” A trooper, Ringo, took you out of your thoughts.

With a nod, you lifted your pack and stepped up onto the gunship, “Ready. Let’s load up.”

Others followed your orders and soon, you were in the sky above Umbara.

Despite the first wave’s efforts, chaos still reigned. Almost immediately your gunship was assaulted by artillery fire. A shot exploded next to you, shaking the entire air vehicle. A ship to the west of yours burst into an explosion of flames.

In response, your second hand shot up for stability. A trooper had their hand on your shoulder to help keep you steady. After a moment, the transport stabilized and you let go, stepping to the back where a crate of supplies waited.

“Dare, how close are we?” You chimed on your communicator. Hopefully you didn’t startle the pilot.

“Landing in 30, I can’t get to the landing site, so you’ll have to walk some to the staging area,” he responded.

“Play it safe,” You commanded, “Land where you can. And try not to crash, I like living and I'm sure the other men do too.” A couple of clones snickers in their helmets. Your little quip helped ease the atmosphere it seemed.

You prepared a speeder. The small vehicle had been modified to carry a patient and allow you to transport extra medical supplies. It was outfitted with some extra armor and protection as well, so in an emergency you could activate a rayshield at the cost of the vehicle's speed.

“Doc, landing in 10.”

“Good job.” You spoke into your communicator before getting on the speeder. You counted down in your head, and just as you got to 1, the doors opened.

The troopers unloaded, guns ready. Shots were fired, though it didn’t seem as concentrated. Explosions were going off, but at a relatively safe distance. Seemed the first wave did a better job than you originally thought. Your speeder got to the ground, and you made your way to the staging area with the rest of the men.

The battalion had established some trenches, allowing a brief moment of rest and preparation for everyone. You stopped right at the small medical area Kix had skillfully established. Already there were injured in the double digits. Without pause, you got to work.

“You nearly missed the party,” Kix snarked, handling a blaster burn on the thigh of a shiny.

“I’d call this fashionably late,” you quipped back, getting your hands on a different soldier. Blood was seeping from the bottom of his damaged helmet, staining his blue and white chestplate in red. Your mind kicked into training, “What's your name?” You asked, voicing a kinder tone.

The poor clone was clearly in agony, responding with a tremor to his words, “S-Stag.” He swallowed, trying to control his mental state.

These damn soldiers liked to pretend everything was fine.

“Alright Stag, I’m gonna remove your helmet.”

He didn’t argue when you pulled it off revealing the extent of the damage.

Severe blaster burn. Missing eye. Jaw visible. Shrapnel from the helmet had pierced his cheek and temple. Concussion possibly.

His remaining brown eye looked wildly at you. You recognized fear. terror.

So, you gave him a reassuring soft smile, “Not too bad, I’ve dealt with worse.” Your fingers quickly wrapped around an injector filled with painkillers, “Here, I’m gonna give you something to help with the pain.” Your words seemed to have a positive effect because he nodded and let you treat him.

You worked quickly and efficiently, stemming the bleeding and getting him stabilized. When you were finished, he had calmed down considerably. Once Stag was stable, you moved on to the next trooper.

By the fifth, you realized one of them couldn’t be saved.

He was a shiny. Barely off Kamino you guessed. The plastoid of his chest piece looked to be shattered and singed from a bolt to the chest. His breathing was shaky as he leaned against the dark trunk of a glowing tree.

“I need a trooper.” you called taking the soldier’s hand in your own. You learned quickly into the war that the clones always wanted to die with a brother near them. A reminder that they weren’t alone.

“I hope I’m good enough.”

That voice.

“Rex,” Your head turned, looking up at him. You wished you could smile, but you had to keep your excitement under a mask. Plus, the situation didn’t call for it.

His warm eyes were on yours as he pulled off his helmet and knelt. There was clear sadness, knowing that this was the end for one of his men. So the only thing he could do was offer comfort.

“Fyre.” The captain spoke softly, “You did well.” He put one armored hand on the dying man's shoulder.

Wordlessly, you gave Fyre a shot for the pain and held his hand, “Everything is alright now.” you whispered to him. This wasn’t uncommon, when you or Kix were too late to save someone.

At the beginning you would burn through supplies trying to save everyone, only to fail and lose them anyway. Over the course of the war, you knew to recognize when all you could do was ease their pain and let them slip away.

It was the grim reality of the war. You couldn’t save them all.

Fyre coughed and squeezed your hand. His eyes closed and the clone took his last breath.

“Damnit.” you swore, checking his pulse. You only felt stillness. He was gone.

Rex sighed, “You tried. So, thank you,” He stood and helped you stand. He couldn’t let his grief from the loss overwhelm him, “I wish you stayed on the ship.” The clone captain admitted, “I get the feeling Umbara is going to be brutal. More so than previous battles.”

“You can’t get rid of me so easily,” Your eyes quickly scanned around. No one seemed to be close enough or paying attention to the two of you, “My darling.” you added, interlocking your fingers.

Your lover looked around quickly before he responded quietly, “Mesh’la, be careful what you say.” Despite his warning, he made no move to pull away. In fact, he stepped closer, “For now, at least.”

Of course, you knew the two of you had to reign in your love and affection in front of others. On the battlefield he was the captain and you the field doctor. Trying to push those boundaries would stress him out. Afterall, if his romance with you got to Kamino, they’d call for a decommission. Something Anakin would never go for, but better safe than sorry.

However, he warmed to small touches and brief moments whenever the situation allowed.

Your lips had a small smile, “I’m glad you're not hurt.” you raised one palm to stroke the side of his helmet. The battle wasn’t even an hour in and already his armor was dirty.

“Promise me you’ll be careful.” Rex murmured, keeping his voice down, “Please, ner kar’ta.” He was being protective again. Normally the captain was better at prioritizing. He was the leader of the battalion first and your lover second. But right now he seemed…spooked. Were things getting bad already?

Umbara must be getting to him. After all this assault was much different than other battles.

“I’ll promise if you promise,” Your lips quickly pecked his visor. It was chaste and fast, so no one could see. Just a sweet kiss between the two of you.

He was about to respond when his communicator went off.

“General Skywalker,” Your lover pulled back and raised his wrist up.

“Come find me, I need the status of our men.” Anakin’s voice sounded on the other end, “and tell our good doctor I said hello.”

You snorted.

“Right away, General.” the clone captain said, returning to his professionalism. He looked at you one more time before stepping away to find the jedi.

You sighed, “Back to work.” Without waiting a second, you found another injured soldier and began to treat him.

Your eyes glanced at the shadowy sky for a moment, unable to shake the pit in your stomach. It felt like something was deeply wrong.

The darkness on Umbara must already be getting to you too.

#reader insert #captain rex x reader #rex x reader #star wars x reader #the clone wars x reader #captain rex #clone trooper kix #umbara arc #clone wars 501st #tcw x you #tcw x reader #star wars the clone wars #Star Wars

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ywpd-translations · 3 months ago

Text

Ride 805: Sohoku's morale

Pag 1

1: The banking angle is like this

2: It's like putting the weight on the very edge of the round part of the tire

3: Keep braking at a minimum

4: Right before the curve, switch one gear lower while braking

7: While taking the curve without decelerating as much as possible...

Pag 2

1: push as hard as you can when moving up!!

Pag 3

1: Shorten it....!!

2: The eight minutes distance...!!

To a four minutes distance!!

3: I can go further!!

4: Let's go!!

With everyone's strength!!

5: Woah, is that the selected team!? They passed me

Six people... no, it's seven people!?

Kyofushi joined them at the very back!!

6: Until the “lead” ahead of us....!!

Pag 4

1: The cyclists are here, there's the pack!

Do your best!

They're so colorful!

So fast!

These is the Inter High's.....

Pag 5

1: lead!!

Pag 6

2: Amazing!

They're so fast..!

They caused the wind!

Fighting!

Gooo!

Pag 7

1: The ones in the lead pulling the pack is....

2: the local from Kyushu, Fukuoka Josei!!

Kumadai is there too!!

4: So your best....!!

They looked here and smiled at us

Take the finish line ahead!!

Mokkosu!!

Pag 8

2: The finish line, huh!!

3: Yeah!!

4: The race is already turning to its final stage

5: Also this is the assembly stage now

A small climb... or after that? When Hakogaku will raise their pace and slip through the locals who are now pulling...

(Fukuoka do your best!

Kumamotoo!

They looked this way and smiled!)

Pag 9

1: the real battle for the finish line will start!!

2: It's gonna be a fight we absolutely cannot step back from!!

3: Step back? Not even a millimeter!!

4: You'll be pulling until then

Danchiku!! Kaburagi!! Team SS duo!!

Yessir!!

Yeah!!

5: I'll pull, horuaa....

6: But

7: Will Onoda-san be alright? He's exhausted for all the work he did on the mountain

Uh!! Danchiku is so considerate!! Also,this is a problem!!

Pag 10

1: Aaalright, me too

That's right!! Onoda-san

2: is basically at death's door!!

This guy...

The way he said it...

3: So-sorry... yeah...

I'm.... alright... I rested while on the long downhill earlier

4: What, are you really okay?

Oi, Issa, you're being too direct!

5: By the way, uhm.... we were in a rush when I joined you again... so I couldn't say it

7: I couldn't.... say it properly...

Pag 11

1: I'm sorry....

I lost....

4: He lost!?

We saw it on the sign board!!

5: Even though it was just around 20cm... even though I pedaled with my strength...

6: I didn't take... the mountain prize

Even though... everyone

7: sent me off

Pag 12

1: What are you talking about!! Onoda

What are you apologizing for!! Onoda-kun!!

Pag 13

1: Ima.... izumi-kun...

3: Naruko-kun....

5: I'll buy you some juice later

Ju-juice?

Kakaka!! That's not a big deal!!

Ah, but...

6: were fully happy that we got to send you off, Onoda-kun

Pag 14

1: You could run with Manami with all your strength, and that's good enough

3: Well, when you came back to the team all worn out and we saw the distance on the sign board, I knew that it had come true!!

5: You were even annoyed by Doubashi-san!

Ah, so that was for the mountain prize, I see

6: It raised the team's morale

That's enough

Pag 15

1: Teeh...!!

2: Yeah

Right now, the thing that will raise the morale more than anything

3: it's probably them

5: You're right, now there's

6: the water station

Pag 16

2: Onoda-san is in a pinch!!

Onoda-san is in a pinch!!

He's feeling weak, teh!!

3: I have to do something, teh..!!

Kinaka-kuuun!!

4: Onoda-san's ina pinch, teh!!

Give me all your food supplements and bottles, teh!!

Pag 17

1: Rokudaiii!!

Huh!?

So many!?

Why so much stuff!!

2: I thought you would say that, so I got ready, Rokudaii!!

Pag 18

3: I'll leave the senpai to you, Rokudai!!

4: Goooo!! Rokudaiii!!

What... that's an absurd way of delivering it

So much, on!!

What's with this guys... he delivered such a huge weight of supplies in one go!!

Pag 19

1: Ou- teh!!

2: They're perfectly in sync

Amazing

3: ….. Toji-san

4: This year's finish line...

Yeah, it's further away after the mountain stage than it usually is

From here on, after a few hills it goes on with an up-and-down

Pag 20

1: Then they'll enter a long downhill of around 5km

2: After the coastal national away they'll turn right

3: and they'll enter the town where the first day's finish line is

Pag 21

2: There are probably 10km left...

3: and after that

4: the race for the finish line will start

Pag 22

1: And those who are most likely to win will move!!

There's still more

Th-thank you

That must be heavy

6: There are 12km left until the finish line

#yowamushi pedal #yowapeda #yowamushi pedal translations #yowapeda manga #yowamushi pedal manga #yowamushi pedal spoilers #ride 805 #oh i missed roku-chan so muuuuuuch #and kinaka too!!!!#MY BABIES ARE BACK THANK YOU WATANABE #and they even had their lil moment ;A;#they're so extra for absolutely no reason i ADORE them #i guess having to carry all the water bottles for everyone during that one race a while back really shaped rokudai's experience lmao #man i just love sohoku so so much #theyre everything to me im not even kidding #kabu being so chill he didnt even notice onoda lost asgaskfdagdsf #he has absolutely no braincell and hes so valid for that for real #my stupid boy please never have a thought in your life keep going like this #and the way he's like 'oh danchiku is so considerate!i should do that too!'#and then fails spectacularly bc he simply cant be nice to no one lmao #also also imanaru and onoda :') onoda and his knights ;A;#they literally said 'dont worry it's no problem you lost we're just happy you got your date with manami!'#sohoku really is the best team every year

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redroomreflections · 5 months ago

Text

Hotel California | Track 9: Flamenco

Natasha Romanoff x fem!reader

Summary: Natasha Romanoff, frontwoman of the punk rock band Velvet Rebellion, falls hard for a woman she believes is too good for her. Their intense relationship unfolds in the chaotic world of rock 'n' roll, where they struggle to balance fame, personal demons, and their undeniable passion for each other.

W/c: 5.4k

Chapter 9/12

Masterlist | General Masterlist

Note: Exciting stuff

Song for this chapter https://open.spotify.com/track/3B7EZgquNKHrSIo2tEc8mK?si=2ce2f0ac782f484c

18+ Minors DNI (mature)

Themes: love, fame, sex, drugs

Having a type-A personality has its perks. When you're not procrastinating or hiding from the world under your covers, you're girlbossing it hard. Like most mornings, you woke up at the second strike of your 6 AM alarm. No snooze, no excuses. The world didn’t wait for you; frankly, you weren’t about to let it get ahead.

Your private Pilates instructor was already on her way to destroy your body (figuratively, of course) in the garage studio. You shuffled into your kitchen, still half-asleep, and sipped on your lemon water while mentally preparing yourself for the torture—sorry, workout. The thought of the inevitable soreness made you groan, but you reminded yourself it was worth it. Your Type-A brain thrived on the discipline, and it felt good to start the day strong.

When the instructor arrived, you were dressed in sleek athleisure, hair tied back in a low ponytail, ready to pretend you enjoyed every second of it. You even entertained Luxe when she motivated you through what could be considered hate speech. You would never admit it, but you appreciated the encouragement, regardless of its content.

One hour later, you were showered and ready for work. Your skin glowed, and you felt great despite your muscles burning. It was time to get Isabella awake. You shuffled into her bedroom, snorting at how neat it was, as you moved to sit on her bed.

You rested a hand on what you could assume was her back, gently calling for her to wake up.

"Bella, come on, time for school,"

Isabella stirred under her blankets, her tiny body shifting closer to the pillow as if she could burrow away from the morning. A muffled groan escaped her, followed by a sleepy, "Five more minutes, Mama."

You chuckled, smoothing a hand over the soft fabric covering her back. "Five more minutes turns into fifteen, and then we're running late. Come on, Bella. Up and at 'em."

She peeked out from under the blanket, her curly hair sticking up in all directions. Her face was adorably pouty, and her eyes were barely open. "Do I have to?" she mumbled.

"Yes, you do. Education is important, remember?" you teased, leaning down to kiss her forehead. "And besides, you love school. You told me last night you couldn’t wait to show Ms. Thompson your drawing."

That jogged her memory. Isabella sat up, rubbing her eyes and yawning loudly. "Oh yeah," she said, her voice still thick with sleep. "Okay, I'm getting up."

"Good girl," you praised, patting her back as she swung her legs over the side of the bed. "I'll meet you downstairs for breakfast, okay?"

Isabella nodded, her small frame shuffling off to the bathroom. You smiled as you headed back to the kitchen, already planning the quick breakfast lineup. Multitasking was your superpower, and mornings like this reminded you why you thrived in the chaos.

Your phone buzzed on the counter as you packed her lunch and brewed your first cup of coffee. Monica's name lit up the screen.

“Hey, good morning. Will you pick up a coffee?"

"Yes, please,"

You switched the contacts to Natasha and sent her a cute message for whenever she woke up.

"Hope you have a good morning, baby. I'll be thinking about you. See you later x."

As you set Isabella’s lunchbox aside and sipped your coffee, you heard the soft shuffle of her footsteps approaching. She appeared in the doorway, her curls now somewhat tamed and her little face freshly washed. Isabella stood there for a moment, rubbing her eyes before making her way over to you.

Without a word, she wrapped her arms around your waist, resting her head against your side. You glanced down at her, your heart swelling at the gesture. Setting your coffee on the counter, you opened your arms wider, pulling her into a proper hug.

"Good morning again, munchkin," you said softly, smoothing stray hairs from her face.

"Morning, Mama," she murmured, leaning into the embrace like it was the safest place in the world.

You held her tighter, savoring the warmth and love she gave so freely. Moments like this weren’t uncommon, but they always reminded you how lucky you were. Isabella had always been affectionate, kind, and thoughtful—a reflection of what you and Sam had worked hard to instill in her.

"You’re such a sweetheart, you know that?" you whispered, kissing the top of her head.

Isabella smiled, her arms tightening around you. "You always say that."

"Because it’s true," you replied, pulling back just enough to look into her big, expressive eyes. "You’re the best part of my mornings, Bella. Always. Are you hungry?"

"I could eat," She shrugged as she began to grab the fresh toast from the toaster. She spread a generous amount of Nutella on her toast before taking some of the fruit you'd sliced.

"So," you began, leaning back against the counter and sipping your coffee, "are you excited for school today?"

"Yeah," she nodded, a streak of chocolate at the corner of her mouth. "Ms. Thompson said we could watch a movie in class, and we're gonna get our new math books today."

"That's great," you smiled.

"Are you still going to the studio with Natasha later?" She inquired.

"Yeah, I am. We have a full schedule today. But I'll be home early. We'll have time to make dinner together. Sound good?"

Isabella sighed. "I really wanted to go to the studio with you. I want a chance to hang with the guys."

"I know," You checked your calendar today. "You probably won't be available for the beginning, but how about I have Reagan bring you to the studio? You can sit with us for a little while. Though, I think it's not an environment for a little girl."

"That would be awesome, Mama." She grinned.

You grabbed the lunch box and held it out to her. Isabella took it and slipped it into her backpack, then slung it over her shoulder.

"Alright, you got everything?" You asked, grabbing your coffee and keys and heading for the door.

Isabella nodded. "Mhm, all set."

"Perfect, let's go. And don't forget your headphones."

You walked out the front door, locking it behind you, and headed toward the car. The sun was rising; the sky was filled with shades of orange and pink. As the two of you buckled in, you looked over at Isabella. It was a perfect morning for the both of you.

The morning rush was well underway when you dropped Isabella off at school. The streets were filled with activity, but you managed to weave through traffic like a seasoned pro. As soon as you parked at the office, your phone buzzed in your bag.

The ringtone alone was enough to make you sigh. Work started early, and the day was already throwing curveballs.

"Hi, Karen," you greeted as you stepped into the building, heels clicking against the polished floors. "What’s going on?"

Karen’s voice was sharp on the other end. "We’ve got a situation with one of our clients. They posted something... let’s just say, off-brand, and now the comments section is an absolute war zone. "

"Great," you muttered, offering a quick wave to Monica, who was waiting for you near the elevator. She stepped beside you and handed you your coffee. You balanced your cup, handbag, and phone all at once. It was either something political or something to do with her ex?

"Both," Karen replied. "And I need you here. Stat. We have a crisis management meeting, and we need to act fast. Can you come in right away?"

"Yeah, of course. I'm in the lobby. I'll see you in twenty."

You ended the call, and a heavy sigh escaped your lips. Monica looked over, sympathy written all over her features.

"What was that all about?" she asked, following you onto the elevator.

"We have a client situation," you explained, tapping your foot impatiently as the elevator climbed. "Karen needs me in her office. ASAP."

Monica hummed, taking a sip of her drink. "Well, hopefully, it's not too bad."

"It's a bad thing we need a new PR thing by the end of the day," you shook your head. "I'll know more once I check it out. I've been staying off of social media for a while."

"Oh, you mean it's not normal to gain two hundred thousand followers in four months?" She teased.

"No, actually," You shook your head. "They all just want glimpses of Natasha and me. Which I'm fine with for the most part."

"And how are things with her?" Monica asked, tilting her head curiously.

You smiled, a blush coloring your cheeks. "Amazing. It's... it's everything I could have hoped for. We've been spending a lot of time together. Getting to know each other. But also getting to know our dynamic, y'know?"

"It sounds like she's the real deal, huh?" Monica guessed. She followed you to your office and stood in the doorway.

"Yeah? I mean, I guess?" You dropped your things onto your desk. "It's so interesting, to be quite honest. After Sam and I divorced, everyone I dated didn't seem to fit. With Natasha, it feels natural. It just feels like this is what was supposed to happen."

"Wow, I didn't know it was that deep," Monica joked.

"I guess it's just because she makes me feel good. When I'm with her, it's like I can be myself without worrying about anything. Like I don't have to put on a mask." You shrugged.

"Aww, you're in love."

"I know."

"Have you told her yet?" Monica pressed.

You paused, your mind reverting to the moments you shared with her. There was no denying how deeply you cared about her. It wasn't just infatuation.

"Yeah," you breathed, your chest swelling. "Yeah, I did."

"What did she say?"

"Well, technically, she said it first." you shrugged.

Monica's eyes widened, her mouth falling open in exaggerated shock. "She said it first? Oh my God, this is serious!"

You couldn't help but laugh at her reaction as you moved around your desk, straightening a few papers and powering your computer. "I guess it is," you admitted, the blush on your cheeks deepening. "But honestly, it felt so right. We were just... in the moment. I didn’t even have to think about it."

Monica leaned against the doorway, crossing her arms with a knowing smile. "I love this for you. You deserve it, after everything with Sam. Speaking of, does Isabella know how serious things are between you two?"

"Not yet," you replied, pulling your chair out and settling in. "I mean, she knows Natasha’s important to me, and she adores her. But I’m still trying to take it slow, y’know? I don’t want to rush anything. It’s a big change for all of us."

"Smart move," Monica agreed. "You’re handling this really well, honestly. I can’t say I’d be this level-headed if I were in your shoes."

You chuckled, grabbing your planner to skim through your schedule for the day. "Trust me, it’s a balancing act. Between work, Isabella, and this relationship... it’s a lot. But it’s worth it."

Monica pushed off the doorway, giving you a soft smile. "Well, I’m rooting for you guys. Natasha seems like she really gets you, and that’s rare."

"Thanks, Monica. That means a lot," you said sincerely.

"Anytime. Now," she gestured to the stack of papers in her arms, "Are you still going to meet Karen upstairs?"

"Oh, shit, I almost forgot." You shook your head.

And the day began.

****

The morning light barely filtered through the blackout curtains of Natasha’s bedroom as she groaned at the sound of voices coming from somewhere in the hallway. It’s 9:00 AM, far too early for her usual standards, but last night’s recording session had dragged well into the early hours. Her body felt like it was weighed down by bricks as she blindly groped for her phone on the nightstand.

The screen lights up:

y/n: Good morning, rockstar. Don’t forget Mitch at 10:30.

Natasha smirked, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes. She typed back quickly:

I remember. Barely. Coffee first. I love you.

Rolling out of bed, she grabbed a hoodie from the floor and pulled it over her tank top before shuffling out into the hallway, her hair a mess of waves from sleep.

Her mind was still foggy when she nearly collided with someone—a brunette woman wearing her robe.

“Whoa there, sleepyhead,” the woman drawled, holding her coffee mug steady as she stepped back.

Natasha blinked at her, momentarily disoriented. She recognized the woman immediately: Agatha Harkness, a veteran actress known for her sharp wit and even sharper tongue. When another voice entered the scene, Natasha didn't even have time to process why Agatha was in her apartment.

“Nat, I’m so sorry,” Wanda appears in the guest room doorway, looking frazzled but still managing to radiate calm. “Agatha stayed the night. I should’ve told you.”

"When did you even have time for her to stay the night? We got home at like four am," Natasha frowned.

"Can't say no to a late-night booty call," Agatha grinned. She glanced down at Natasha's Spiderman underwear and chuckled.

"Hey, why don't you go and wait for me in the bedroom," Wanda suggested. They shared a kiss that made Natasha pretend to gag. Not because Agatha wasn't hot. Because she was, and it was annoying.

"See you, rockstar," Agatha quipped before stepping back into the bedroom.

"Do we need to think about getting our own places?" Natasha questioned as she walked towards the kitchen.

"No, of course not, I love living with you," Wanda said.

Natasha nodded. "Good. Because I wouldn't want to live anywhere else." Natasha glanced at the clock again and began to pour herself a bowl of fruit loops. "I have a meeting at ten with Mitch. Wanna come?"

Wanda's face scrunched up. "Hmm, that's so early."

"You don't have to come." Natasha shrugged.

"Yeah, but I'm gonna anyway," Wanda insisted, leaning against the counter.

"So, you and Agatha?" Natasha began. "When did this start?"

"It's casual," Wanda waved off.

"Uh huh," Natasha hummed, finishing the rest of her breakfast.

Wanda smirked. "Don't get all judgy, it's fun. Nothing serious, I swear. It's not like I'm seeing her exclusively or anything."

"You can have fun and have a relationship, y'know?"

"Oh, and settle down like you?" Wanda laughed.

"No," Natasha frowned, grabbing her dishes and putting them into the dishwasher. "That's not what I meant. Also, I'd hardly say I'm settled down."

Wanda scoffed, her face twisted in amusement. "Are you kidding me? You've been seeing this woman for almost five months. And you haven't brought anyone else home since. Not to mention how much you've been talking about her lately. It's almost sickening."

"Shut up, I have not," Natasha grumbled, moving to her room to get dressed.

Wanda followed behind her, plopping onto her bed. "You have. You're practically a Stepford wife."

Natasha rolled her eyes. "Okay, sure, but it's not like that's a bad thing. I'm happy, and she makes me happy."

Wanda watched her closely, a knowing look in her eyes. "I think you're more than happy, Nat."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Natasha asked, pausing midway through, grabbing a new robe. Wanda owed her one.

"I think you're falling in love," Wanda teased, grinning up at her.

"That's ridiculous." Natasha deadpanned, continuing to rummage through her closet.

"It's not. I've never seen you so hung up on someone before." Wanda pointed out. "Well, since Carol."

"Hmm," Natasha acknowledged. There was something in her expression that made Wanda wonder if she had a little secret.

"What is it? Come on, tell me," Wanda demanded, sitting up and leaning toward her.

"It's nothing," Natasha assured.

"Nope, I can tell. There's something different about you," Wanda pressed.

"It's stupid, honestly."

"Spit it out, Romanoff."

"I told y/n I love her," Natasha said. "And she said she loved me back."

"WHAT? You said it first? Oh, Nat, that's so cute. You're in love. It's happening," Wanda gasped.

"It's not happening; it's not a thing. We just said it."

"So you love her, but it's not a thing?"

"No, that's not what I'm saying," Natasha defended. She walked in and out of her closet as she tried to find something appropriate to wear to the meeting with Mitch. "I don't want it to be this big whirlwind relationship. I want to continue getting to know each other."

"I'd say you two know each other pretty well from these texts she's sent you," Wanda's eyes widened as she scrolled through Natasha’s phone. "You guys sext each other?"

"Wanda, give me my phone," Natasha snatched it from her. "That's a complete lack of privacy."

"Hey, I didn't see anything bad," Wanda chuckled. "What's that thing with your tongue she's raving about? Can you teach me? I think Agatha would really love it."

Natasha's cheeks burned as she shook her head. "This is why we don't share. Now please, can you leave me alone? I have to get dressed and meet with Mitch. I don't have time for your nonsense."

"Fine," Wanda huffed, standing from the bed. "But just so you know, I'm super happy for you."

"Thanks," Natasha mumbled.

As Wanda headed for the door, she looked over her shoulder and smirked. "I hope I'm the maid of honor at your wedding."

Natasha groaned, tossing her dirty laundry in the hamper.

"Don't even joke about that. That's a whole can of worms I'm not ready to open."

"Fine," Wanda laughed.

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

Natasha slipped into the studio’s meeting room, with Wanda trailing behind her, clutching coffee cups like lifelines. Mitch was already there, papers and a tablet spread out in front of her, her usual no-nonsense expression in place.

“Morning, Romanoff, Maximoff,” Mitch greeted, gesturing to the seats across from her. “Glad you two could finally join us.”

“It’s barely 10:30,” Natasha muttered, sinking into her chair. “Some of us had a late night.”

“And some of us have a band to manage,” Mitch shot back, her tone sharp but playful. “Speaking of which, we’ve got a lot to cover today, so let’s get to it.”

Natasha waved a hand as if to give her the floor.

“At a minimum, I’m your booking agent—venues, show dates, contracts, all that boring stuff. But we’re aiming for more here,” Mitch began, swiping on her tablet. “The plans for this next tour are ambitious. Bigger venues, bigger cities, and—if we play this right—bigger press coverage.”

“That sounds… overwhelming,” Wanda admitted, her brows furrowing.

“It is,” Mitch agreed, not missing a beat. “But it’s also what’s going to put you on the map. The album is shaping up nicely. Ten tracks total. Seven are already written and recorded, but we need to nail down those final three.”

Natasha leaned back in her chair, crossing her arms. “What’s the timeline?”

“Studio time’s booked for the next month. Your duet with Y/N is one of the final tracks, and we’ll position it as a crossover single. Something to expand your audience a little. Y/N’s name alone will give it traction,” Mitch explained. "With your relationship being the hottest new thing out, I think it's time we crank it up a notch."

"I'm not using my relationship as PR," Natasha denied.

"Your girlfriend's a publicist and didn't play that angle out for you?" Mitch raised a brow.

"She mentioned it once or twice, but she's also very much against it," Natasha answered.

Mitch sighed. "That's a shame. I'm sure the press would love it. They're practically salivating over the two of you. And the song you wrote is beautiful."

Natasha nodded. "It's personal. It's about the moment I knew I loved her."

"So, you don't have a problem writing a song and singing about it publicly?"

"No, I don't," Natasha shrugged. "We're together. And people know that."

"Well, that's a good sign," Mitch smirked, sipping her drink. "This band. Your band. You guys blew up overnight. Everyone has been talking about Velvet Rebellion for the past year. Good or bad. Why not shift to something better?"

"That's not the only reason why we're in this. We're trying to do something great with our music." Natasha defended.

"I know," Mitch replied. "I know the kind of talent you have. I've been around for a long time. And trust me, the best thing you can do is play this up."

"Play what up?" Wanda questioned.

"Your image. Your brand. All of it. We could spin this into the most romantic tour the world has ever seen. It'd be the story of the decade."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, now you think she should come on tour with us? Am I hearing this correctly?"

"I'm not saying that she should. I'm just saying it's a possibility. You're the biggest thing since Taylor Swift and her boy band," Mitch pointed out. "The world is eating this up. And you know what sells the best? Love. Romance. Sex."

Natasha groaned. "Can we talk about this some other time?"

"Sure," Mitch shrugged. "I'm just letting you know all of our angles."

"Thanks," Natasha deadpanned.

"Now, let's move on to the next subject. You guys are scheduled to do an interview with Rolling Stone magazine," Mitch informed. "They're doing a piece on your success. A full-page spread. They want a photo shoot."

"Ooh, that sounds fun," Wanda grinned.

"Great."

Natasha leaned back in her chair, running a hand through her hair as Mitch continued rattling off details about the Rolling Stone feature. A full-page spread, photoshoot, interviews—everything they’d ever wanted as a band. It was the kind of coverage that could cement their place in music history, a step toward being known not just as another band with catchy songs but as real artists with something to say.

Still, her mind lingered on Mitch’s earlier comment. The suggestion that you could come on tour with them as some kind of PR angle made Natasha’s stomach twist.

Sure, her relationship with you was public enough, but only on your terms. It was the casual paparazzi shots, the glimpses of you at coffee shops or strolling hand in hand after a late-night studio session. Nothing orchestrated. Nothing overly intrusive. And Natasha intended to keep it that way.

Her fingers tapped against the table as she considered Mitch’s words. You weren't just her girlfriend; you were her collaborator, her muse, her safe space. Bringing you on tour might make the fans swoon and the tabloids buzz, but was it worth the risk?

She didn’t want her relationship with you to become just another headline, something for the world to pick apart and toss aside.

But at the same time, she wondered if it was possible to strike a balance. Their next album wasn’t just about love songs. It was about life—raw, messy, and real. Songs that spoke to the heart of what it meant to live and feel deeply. Would it be hypocritical to shy away from the love that inspired some of those tracks?

******

Studio time was one of Natasha's favorites. It was the electrifying moments the band got together and simply created. They'd let all of their ideas run amuck. Nothing was too crazy or bodacious when it came to their music-writing process. The studio was filled with a relaxed energy. It wasn’t the kind of sterile, pristine environment some people might imagine when they thought of a high-tech recording studio. Instead, it was alive, warm with conversation and the scent of takeout boxes scattered across the long wooden table in the corner.

Your dad hadn’t spared any expense on the place—state-of-the-art equipment lined the walls, from mixing consoles with glowing buttons to racks of sleek guitars and keyboards. The acoustics in the room were perfect. It was everything they needed to finish off the album.

A haze of cigarette smoke lingered in the air near the door where a couple of crew members leaned, chatting lazily. Shawn McCall, the producer the band swore by, sat behind the massive soundboard, a pair of headphones perched around his neck. He looked completely at ease, sipping his energy drink as he quickly adjusted to the levels, occasionally glancing toward you and Natasha.

Natasha stood near the center of the live room, a guitar slung over her shoulder. She strummed it absentmindedly, her sharp green eyes flickering toward you, who was sitting on a stool by the mic. The band was scattered around the control room—Wanda leaned against the back wall, twirling her hair, while Bucky and Steve hovered near Shawn, chatting over the latest changes to the track.

“Alright,” Natasha’s voice cut through the room, smooth and confident. “Let’s rerun it from the top. Y/N, just breathe through that first verse. Your voice will blend so well with Wanda's melodies. You’ve got this.”

You nodded, flashing her a quick thumbs up as you adjusted the mic.

The lights dimmed, and the music began to flow from the speakers. Natasha closed her eyes, leaning into the song as she picked up the first chords. In your ears, you and Wanda sang together, the melody intertwining, creating something new and breathtaking.

It was one of the most difficult tracks on the album, as it was so different from what the band was used to. Though you thought it fit quite well. It was a powerful statement for the album. You ran through the first verse several times. You allowed yourself to watch Natasha as she nodded along with your singing. Finally, you relaxed your shoulders.

"That was good," Natasha stepped closer to you. She didn't care that there were other people in the room.

"Really?" you smiled.

"Yeah," she said. "You sound beautiful."

"Thanks," you blushed. "It's really hard to focus on my vocals and your guitar. You're just so good at playing, y'know."

"I have a good teacher," Natasha winked.

"You're ridiculous," you laughed.

"Okay, ladies, how about we take five?" Shawn suggested. This caught both of you off guard, and you looked at him and nodded.

Just as you were about to ask Natasha about what you could get into in the five minutes you had, Isabella entered the studio with her nanny, Reagan, in tow.

As soon as Isabella entered the room, everything changed. The casual atmosphere that had permeated the studio just moments ago vanished. The haze of cigarette smoke seemed to evaporate into thin air, and suddenly, the counters were cleared of food boxes and discarded cups. People stood a little straighter, voices lowered, and the usual easy curse-filled banter was replaced with murmurs.

Reagan walked in behind her, offering a polite nod to the group as she stayed near the door, watching the little girl. Looking every bit like a miniature version of you, Isabella skipped forward into the room with a beaming smile, her hair bouncing around her shoulders. She went straight to you, arms open wide for a hug.

"Mom!" Isabella exclaimed, wrapping her arms around your waist. "Thanks for letting me come. This is so cool.

"Hey, sweet girl," You said, your voice softening immediately. You kissed Isabella on the cheek.

"You've never been in a studio? Do you mind if I show you around?" Natasha suggested.

Isabella glanced up at her, and her grin widened.

"Yes! Can we do that now, please?" She tugged on your hand.

"Go ahead," you chuckled.

Natasha smiled. "We'll be back soon."

"Take your time," You assured.

Reagan and the rest of the studio staff watched as Natasha guided the little girl across the room, explaining each piece of equipment in detail. You followed them out into the control room, where you took out your phone and recorded them. You kept Isabella's face concealed as she listened to Natasha explain what things did. She asked questions about the soundboard and the different switches and dials, her eyes excitedly bright. You added the post to your Instagram story.

"Are you guys almost done recording?" Isabella questioned.

"Not quite. We have a few more songs to record. But then the album will be ready for us to put out," Natasha answered.

"Do you write all the songs by yourself?"

"No, some of them are written with partners like Wanda." Natasha gestured behind her.

"Hey, Bucky, can you show me how to play something on your guitar?" Isabella requested. The usually quiet guitarist nodded.

"Sure, kiddo," Bucky replied, standing from his seat.

"You sure that's a good idea?" Wanda quipped.

"She's not going to break anything," Bucky insisted. "Here, you see where my fingers are. This is the A chord."

Another Instagrammable moment for you. Isabella listened aptly as Bucky showed her how to strum a few chords. When they finished, you could practically hear the gears in Isabella's head turning.

"This is gonna be our last song before we're done for the night," Natasha noted, mainly to the rest of the room. "We should probably get back in there. Are you going to stick around and watch?"

"Can I?" Isabella asked.

"Sure," You agreed. "You can go hang out with Wanda; she can tell you what we're doing."

"Sounds good," Natasha smirked. "Alright, let's wrap this up. It's getting late."

The studio session moved more quickly than usual. No one wanted to work late hours with a child in the studio. Not that seven p.m. was late in any of your books. You left the studio session feeling exhilarated. It had been too long since you recorded music or played with anything. Regan had gone home shortly after dropping Isabella off. So it was just the three of you walking to your car. Isabella insisted on holding Natasha's hand as you walked out.

You'd check your Instagram, not realizing how much traction you'd get, but sure enough, both stories you'd posted had gotten well over fifty thousand views in just two hours.

You'd also received an influx of comments from Natasha and Velvet Rebellion fans.

@stardust_in_her_eyes: I want Natasha to be my mom. Honestly, this is what we all need—pure love and talent in one package! #familygoals

@therealjuliaa: Is it just me, or do they look like the perfect stepmother-daughter duo?? This is giving me all the feels 🙌

and more of…

@lilrocker_babe: This is EVERYTHING! Bucky teaching Isabella the guitar, and you can see how much she’s absorbing! 🤘🎸

@onfire88: Bucky's a total softie, LOL. But seriously, that A chord is iconic now 😆

@softlyguitar: Can we get a full version of this?? Are Bucky and Isabella performing a duet someday? YES PLEASE!!

@paulcasual: Not sure who’s cuter here: Bucky or Isabella. But for real, this is such a wholesome moment! 👏

You didn't feel as nervous as you once did about posting. Sure, you'd continue valuing that privacy, but letting people in with small glimpses wasn't bad. As you drove home, Natasha leaned back in her seat, her fingers tapping lightly on the steering wheel. The adrenaline of the studio session still buzzed in her veins, her mind replaying the sounds of the music and the moments with you. She could almost feel the spark of something bigger than just an album—this was her life, her music, and it felt like everything was coming together.

Isabella had fallen asleep in the backseat, her soft breathing the only sound in the car, leaving you and Natasha to share a quiet moment.

Natasha’s phone buzzed on the cup holder, the screen lighting up with a new notification. She glanced down, her thumb hovering over the message. You could see the brief moment of hesitation before she unlocked her phone.

"Everything okay?" you asked, noticing her change in demeanor.

"Yeah," Natasha replied quickly, but her eyes narrowed slightly as she read the message. You were at a stoplight way longer than necessary. "It's... just from Steve."

You didn’t press her, but you could sense something shifting in the air.

“I just—” Natasha stopped, her grip tightening on the steering wheel. The words didn’t come out quickly. She cleared her throat, glancing over at you. “Carol’s in the hospital.”

Your stomach dropped, the warmth of the car and the night air suddenly feeling distant. “What happened?”

“She… relapsed,” Natasha said quietly, the weight of the words settling over her. Her usual confidence seemed to crack for a moment. “I don’t even know what to say. Steve’s saying she’s in stable condition, but... I don’t know.”

You could tell immediately that the mood had shifted.

"Go to her," You said.

"What? Are you sure?" Natasha bit her lip nervously.

"I'm positive," You nodded.

You could only hope this was the right choice to make.

(we're getting a backstory, we're getting love story, we're getting tragedy, we're getting rockstars trashing hotel rooms, Tony getting arrested again, and broken hearts all coming up soon)

---> next part

#natasha romanoff #black reader #natasha x reader #black widow x reader #black widow x female reader #natasha romanov #natasha x you

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truly-sincerely · 1 month ago

Text

ALEX RIDER (BOOK 1-5) TIMELINE

According to years given in Skeleton Key the books all take place in 2001. Alex Rider's birthday is February 13th, 1987.

Caveat: April 1st, 2001 was a Sunday and while it wasn't explicitly stated as being a Monday in the book, that's the day of the week that makes the most sense based on what events happened on what days. So I've based the days of the week on the 2002 Calendar year (Bonus: April 1st was also on a Monday in 2013 and 2019).

Dates marked with a tilde (~) are approximate

STORMBREAKER

March 12 - Tuesday - Alex told about Ian’s death

March 13 - Wednesday - Ian Rider's Funeral

March 14 - Thursday - Alex almost gets compacted in Ian's car

March 15 - Friday - Alex goes to "the Bank" where he gets tranq'd

March 16 - Saturday - Briefing w/ Blunt and Jones

March 17 - Sunday - Day 1 at Brecon Beacons

March 26 - Tuesday - Killing house (day 10)

March 27 - Wednesday - Big hike (day 11)

March 28 - Thursday - Parachute, gadgets, Yassen briefing (day 12)

March 29 - Friday - Arrives at Sayle Enterprises

March 30 - Saturday - Plays with Stormbreaker

March 31 - Sunday - Yassen arrives 2am, daytime quad bike attack (claustrophobia)

April 1 - Monday - Ceremony at the science museum of london

April 2 - Tuesday - Sayle Yassassinated

POINT BLANK

April 3 - Wednesday - Alex is back at school

April 5 - Friday - Alex commits crane crimes (dissociative episode)

April 6 - Saturday - Point Blanc briefing

April 9 - Tuesday - Fiona Friend plays the most dangerous game

April 10 - Wednesday - Horse vs train (claustrophobia)

April 13 - Saturday - Meets Mrs Stellenbosch, hotel in paris

April 14 - Sunday - Arrives at Point Blanc

~April 22nd - Monday - Hits the panic button

~April 23rd - Tuesday - Captured and monologued

~April 24th - Wednesday - Alex’s 2am escape and funeral

~April 25th - Thursday - SAS raids Point Blanc

May 1 - Wednesday - Alex and Julius death match

SKELETON KEY

Note: There are major timeline problems internal to this book that have repercussions on Scorpia's timeline. This is the only way I could make it make sense with Wimbledon.

May 7 - Tuesday - Summer Term starts

May 24th - Friday - Crawley approaches Alex about Wimbledon

May 27th - Monday - Alex starts training to be a ball boy

June 24th - Monday - Wimbledon Tennis Tournament begins

~June 1st - Monday - Fights the Big Circle gangster

July 13th - Saturday - Arrived in Cornwall for vacation

July 17th - Wednesday - Jet ski attack

July 22nd - Monday - Packed off to Miami

July 23rd - Tuesday - Mayfair Lady explodes

July 24th - Wednesday - Arrived on Cayo Esqueleto

July 25th - Thursday - Scuba diving, shark racism, sugar crusher

July 26th - Friday - Sarov tells Alex about Vladimir

July 27th - Saturday - The Russian president arrives (claustrophobia)

July 28th - Sunday - Refueling stop in Edinburgh, Murmansk

August 2nd - Friday - Jones and Blunt meet to debrief

August 3rd - Saturday - Sabina invites Alex to the South of France

EAGLE STRIKE

August 10th - Saturday - Bomb at the rental (panic attack), bullfight

August 11th - Sunday - Back in London, blows it with Sabina

August 12th - Monday - Gameslayer launch party

August 13th - Tuesday - Meeting Marc Antonio in Paris

August 14th - Wednesday - Spying on Cray in Sloterdijk (claustrophobia)

August 15th - Thursday - Sabina kidnapped by Cray

August 16th - Friday - Cray’s ransom demand

August 17th - Saturday - Eagle Strike

SCORPIA

September 7th - Friday - Alex arrives in Venice

September 9th - Monday - Masquerade at the Widow’s Palace (claustrophobia)

September 10th - Tuesday - School trip leaves Venice without Alex

September 11th - Wednesday - Consanto blows up, dinner with the Widow

September 12th - Thursday - Malagosto

September 24th - Tuesday - Told he’s being sent back to England (suicidal ideation)

September 25th - Wednesday - Football team dies at Heathrow, Alex doesn’t kill Mrs Jones

September 26th - Thursday - Alex attends COBRA, sent back to Scorpia

September 27th - Friday - Invisible Sword

October 5th - Saturday - Alex debriefs, learns about his dad, and gets shot

TV Show Timelines: Season 1 and Season 3 and John & Ian Rider.

Complete Yassassination Count (for both TV and books)

Post where I talk about my methodology

#Alex Rider #Alex Rider Timeline #It's finally here!#I might add more books but no promises #Snakehead is in progress #and the stuff in parentheses? that's just me keeping track of the frequency of Alex's trauma responses... for fun!#reminder that book!Yassen only ever killed 2 people #stupid sexy useless book Yassen Gregorovich

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winchesterwild78 · 7 months ago

Text

Unexpected Twist

Characters: Jensen x Reader (wife)

Warnings: injury, language, mention of pregnancy, morning sickness, anger, hurt, fluff

A/N: A quick story idea from @cheekygirl2309. Jensen and reader are married, he’s away filming and gets injured. Reader takes care of him despite his protests, and her unexpected pregnancy. This does not depict real life and is a work of fiction. No disrespect to Jensen or his family.

All work is your own, do not take it or copy it.

Minors DNI 18+

The soft hum of the plane filled the cabin as you drifted off to sleep. You were on your way to surprise Jensen, your husband, who was currently filming his latest project in Canada. This was your first extended separation since you’d married, and you missed him terribly. But you were also excited to see him and to share a secret you'd been keeping: you were pregnant with your first child.

As the plane descended, you couldn't contain your excitement. you imagined the look on Jensen's face when you walked through the door of our rented house. It would be a surprise he'd never forget.

When you walked in the house you were met by silence. You sent Jensen a text to see if he was filming or on his way home.

You: Hey babe. Just wanted to say hello and I miss you.

Jensen: Hey sweetheart, I miss you too. I’m still on set. I’m thinking maybe a few more hours. When I get home I’ll FaceTime you. I can’t wait to see your beautiful face.

You: Okay babe. Have fun and I love you. I can’t wait to see you too.

Jensen: I love you too, Y/N. So much.

You set your phone down and started to unpack. You’d packed for a week, taking off time from work to be there. When you married Jensen, it was important to you to keep working. You loved your job and you wanted to contribute to the household. Jensen was supportive, but you knew deep down he wanted you to quit, mainly so you could travel with him.

After unpacking, fixing something to eat, you took a shower and put on some comfy clothes. Your body was exhausted from traveling, and early pregnancy. As you climbed in the bed to rest, you placed your hand on your belly and rubbed softly. You smiled and drifted off to sleep thinking about the growing baby in your belly, and what the future will look like once they are born.

Unfortunately, your sleep was shattered early the next morning. Your phone rang, jolting you awake. It was a local hospital. Jensen had been in an accident on set and was injured. He had broken his ankle. Your heart sank.

You quickly gathered your things and rushed to the hospital. When you arrived, you found Jensen in a cast, his face a mix of pain and surprise. He was relieved to see you, but you could tell he was upset.

“Babe, what are you doing here?” Jensen asked from his hospital bed. You dropped your bag and ran to his side, throwing your arms around him. “I came in to surprise you, I was at the house asleep and the hospital called me. Jensen, what happened?”

Jensen’s jaw tightened, “It was a stupid fucking accident. I landed wrong, fell backwards and broke my damn ankle in two places.” “Oh Jensen, I’m so sorry.” Tears fell from your eyes. You kissed his lips and he wiped your tears away. “Shhh it’s okay baby. I’m okay.”

The doctor explained that Jensen would need round-the-clock care. Your heart ached for him, but you were determined to be there for him. You knew this would be a challenging time, but you were also grateful for the opportunity to spend more time with your husband.

The doctor gave you Jensen’s discharge papers, explaining he had to stay off the ankle for at least 6-12 weeks. At this time Jensen didn’t need surgery. When the doctor said Jensen would need round the clock care, Jensen’s jaw clenched. You kissed Jensen and left to pull the car around. When they wheeled Jensen out, you saw the anger and disappointment in his eyes. When he looked at you, his eyes softened. Jensen had always hated feeling like he was a burden, and now needing round-the-clock care, he really felt like it.

You helped him into the car and he kissed your cheek as you pulled yourself out of the car. You smiled at him, and he smiled at you. Climbing into the driver’s seat you took his hand in yours. “It’s going to be fine, Jensen. I’m here for you, I’ll always be here for you.”

Jensen nodded, but you could still feel the tension coming from him. “Shit! I need to call work. This is going to set us back so far with filming. Damn it!” Jensen ran his hand through his hair in frustration.

He called his manager and told them what happened. They told Jensen not to worry, they would call and take care of everything. He told them once he got cleared he would be back at work.

When he hung up he looked over at you. “I still can’t believe you’re here. Thank you for surprising me, sorry I ruined the surprise by getting hurt.”

You sighed softly, “Jensen, honey, stop. You didn’t ruin anything, and this isn’t your fault. It was an accident. Besides, now you’re stuck with me for a few weeks. I’ll be your beck and call girl. Anything you need, I’ll make it happen.” He chuckled a little and grinned, “Anything?” He wiggled his eyebrows. You giggled, “Yes, baby, anything you need.”

Once the two of you got back home you helped him out of the car. When you opened the door to help him inside a sudden wave of nausea hit you. You held your breath and tried to focus on Jensen and helping him get inside. A little bit of bile creeped up your throat and you swallowed hard, trying to keep it down.

Jensen noticed you and asked if you were okay. You nodded, not trusting your voice. Getting him inside you set him up in the living room, while you ran to the bathroom to empty the contents of your stomach. Unfortunately for you, your stomach was empty so it was mostly bile and dry heaving.

Brushing your teeth, you walked back into the living room. Jensen was mindlessly flipping through the channels on the television. “Jens, do you need anything other than food? It’s almost time for your medicine, so I’m going to cook you something. What would you like?”

Jensen sat thinking for a minute, “You know I’d really love some breakfast, eggs, bacon, toast and coffee.” “Do you have all that here, or do I need to run to the store?” “I think we have it here. I can go check.”

You placed your hands on your hips, “Jensen, no. I’ll go look. You have to stay off your ankle.” Jensen huffed and groaned, “Fine.” You smiled, walked over and kissed his lips softly, “I love you, Jensen. This is for the best. We need you to get better.”

Jensen’s eyebrows lifted, “I can think of something that can make me better.” He smirked. You laughed, “I need to feed you and give you your medicine, remember we have to stay in front of the pain. Maybe later.” You winked.

Jensen let out a long sigh, it was full of frustration and something else, desire maybe. You touched his shoulder and walked into the kitchen to start cooking. Grabbing everything you needed your mind drifted to the baby. Trying to figure out when was the best time to tell Jensen.

The two of you had talked about children, but agreed to wait a little while longer. Mainly because Jensen had all his new projects and conventions coming up. He wanted to be present during the pregnancy, and he knew right now was not the best time.

Your joy filled heart clenched. A tear slipped out at the thought of the timing and the possibility of him being upset about it. Continuing cooking the smell of the different foods and coffee mixed in the air. The smell became overwhelming and it sent you running to the bathroom.

You sat on the cold tile of the floor, head bent down as you tried to stop the nausea. There is no way I can keep this from him for too long. As you exited the bathroom you heard Jensen call you.

“Sweetheart, are you okay? It sounded like you were getting sick.” You walked into the living room and smiled softly, “Yeah, I’m okay. Probably just airplane food.” You chuckled softly.

Jensen knew something was wrong, partly because he knew you never ate anything on the plane. He let it go. You finished cooking and brought Jensen his food. As you sat beside him, he looked over at you, “Thank you baby, this looks delicious. Aren’t you going to eat?” You shook your head, “Not right now. I’m not very hungry.” He nodded and continued eating.

When Jensen was finished eating you took his plate and went into the kitchen. You cleaned up the kitchen and went back to the living room and sat beside Jensen.

He was flipping through the channels again and you heard him grunt, turning off the television and sitting the remote down.

Jensen laid his head back on the couch and sighed. You looked over at your husband and could feel his pain and frustration.

Touching his arm you said, “Babe, I know you’re frustrated, but we can figure something out for you to do while you’re home.”

“What?! What am I going to do besides sitting on my ass?! That’s all I’m fucking good for right now. Just leave me alone for a while.” You jumped at the anger and harshness in his voice.

You felt the tears prick your eyes, putting your head down and taking your hand away, you whispered “I’m sorry.”

You got up and walked out of the room. Locking yourself in the bathroom, you sat on the side of the tub and let the tears fall. You knew he didn’t mean it, but it still hurt to hear him talk to you like that.

After a few minutes you washed your face and took a deep breath before you opened the door.

Stepping into the hallway, the house was quiet. As you walked towards the living room your heart raced.

Jensen was still sitting on the couch. “Jens, I’m going to the store. Do you need anything?” Jensen didn’t look at you, all he said was “whiskey”.

You swallowed hard. “Baby, I don’t think you can drink with your medicine the doctor gave you for pain.” “Then I won’t take it. Get me some whiskey or I’ll get it myself.”

You stood in silence. Your heart broke. Jensen had never been so cruel to you. “Jensen I’m not getting you alcohol, and you can’t drive. I don’t want you to end up in the hospital or worse because you got drunk while taking your medication. You need the medicine for the pain, you can’t just not take it. Please baby, don't let this minor setback get to you like this.”

Jensen’s jaw clenched. He stood and looked at you, “A minor setback? Are you kidding me?! Fuck! This is just my career going up in smoke. You know, the one that affords our lifestyle. One where you can fly across the country when you want to.”

You gasped and tears flooded your eyes. Jensen instantly regretted what he said when he saw the hurt in your eyes.

You turned around as the tears fell. You grabbed your bag and keys and walked outside. You got in the car, started it and drove away. The tears were falling fast and sobs left your body.

You pulled over because it got so bad you couldn’t see to drive. Your heart was broken. How could you tell him you’re pregnant? He’s so angry and taking it out on you.

Determined to be the best wife you could be, you went to the grocery store and bought groceries for the next week. You also picked up some prenatal vitamins and other things you needed. You called your boss and told them you’d be out for a while due to Jensen’s injury. They were less than happy and told you to either be back in a week or don’t come back at all. So you told them you wouldn’t be back.

After you hung up the weight of the day came crashing down. You didn’t know what to do. The one person you’d talk to about everything was part of the problem. You felt so alone.

It was getting dark by the time you got back home. When you walked in Jensen was no longer on the couch. You saw the door to the bedroom closed. You opened it softly and saw Jensen laying in the bed asleep. You closed the door softly.

Heading out to the car you carried in load after load of groceries. Once all the bags were inside you started to put up the food. Throwing away the bags your heart sank. In the trash was an empty whiskey bottle you knew wasn’t there before you left.

You sighed and started getting dinner ready. You were exhausted, both mentally and physically but you needed to eat. You made baked chicken, roasted potatoes and vegetables.

Putting everything in the oven you sat down and turned on the television. You were flipping through the channels when you saw Supernatural was on. It was Season 15 so Jensen was older.

Your heart flipped when you saw him. You always loved watching him and watching the things he did. You were incredibly proud of him and even more so being his wife.

The television was the only sound in the room. You laid your head down and pulled a blanket on you, and your eyes closed.

The sound of the oven timer going off pulled you from your slumber. You got up, noticing the bedroom door still closed and you went into the kitchen.

You pulled the dish out of the oven and sat in on the hot plate. You walked to the bedroom door, and looked in. Soft snores came from Jensen. You closed the door and went to the kitchen.

Putting some food on a plate, you took it to the table with your water and sat down. Your heart was still so heavy from everything. You had to force yourself to eat.

Thinking about the baby, you ate your fill. Thankfully you were able to keep the food down. When you finished eating you cleaned up and put the rest of the food away.

After the kitchen was clean you went to the bathroom to take a shower. The warm water hugging you like a long lost friend. You needed Jensen, you wanted to feel his arms around you.

Standing under the water you cried. Sobs filled your body. As you turned off the water, your hand touched your stomach. “I’m sorry baby. I’m going to fix this. I promise.”

You pulled on some clean underwear and one of Jensen’s shirts. Leaving the bathroom you made sure everything was locked up and turned off.

Deciding to give Jensen space you went into the guest room. You closed the door and climbed into the bed. Your heart ached for Jensen. Tears fell and you cried into the pillow.

You didn’t know Jensen had woken up while you were in the shower, hearing your sobs. The guilt was washing over him. He laid there listening to you and trying to muster the courage to apologize for being an ass, but he knew you’d be angry smelling the alcohol on his breath. So he just laid there.

When he heard you leave the bathroom and locking up the house he prayed you’d come to bed. Hearing the guest bedroom door close, his heart sank. Jensen knew he messed up.

Jensen was so angry he got hurt, but even more so at himself for taking it out on you. He needed to apologize but he wasn’t sure if you’d want to talk to him.

He pulled himself out of bed and grabbed the crutches the doctor had given him. Steadying himself he made his way to the guest bedroom. Opening the door carefully he saw you laying in the bed with his shirt on and his heart swelled. You were sleeping so peacefully. Your hair laying around your head like a halo. The soft glow of the streetlights casting shadows across your face.

Jensen stepped into the room and sat on the side of the bed. He lightly touched your face, “Sweetheart, wake up.” Your eyes fluttered open and you saw Jensen sitting next to you. His green eyes filled with regret and sadness.

You sat up and threw your arms around his neck and sobbed into his chest. Jensen rubbed your back and kissed your head. “Shhh it’s okay baby. I’m so sorry. This wasn’t your fault and I took it out on you. Baby please forgive me. I’m an ass and I’ll spend the rest of my life making up foe what I said.”

You pulled away, “Jensen, you really hurt me. I know you’re angry about your injury, but you have to know the way you spoke to me wasn’t okay.”

Jensen hung his head in shame, “I know baby. I swear I’ll never speak to you like that again. I love you so much.”

You tilted his chin up and looked in his eyes, “I know you do baby. I love you too.” You placed a soft kiss on his lips.

“Come on darlin’, let’s go to our room.” Jensen stood with the crutches and started to walk out of the room. He stopped when he saw you weren’t moving. “What’s wrong Y/N?”

You took a deep breath, “Jens, I need to tell you something.” Jensen was nervous, “Okay baby. You know whatever it is you can tell me.”

Taking a deep breath you looked in your husband’s eyes, “Jensen, I came to surprise you this week because I missed you. I missed being in your arms. I missed your kiss, and your ability to make me feel that no matter what everything was going to be okay. I also missed making love until we were both exhausted and completely satisfied. But, that all pales in comparison to why I wanted to come see you. A few days after you left I had a check up at the doctor. I got some news I didn’t want to tell you over the phone. So I had to come see you. Then once I got here, everything got turned upside down. You were hurt and angry. It just didn’t feel like the right time to talk to you. I’m so scared, Jensen. Scared of what this will do to us, what it means for us.”

Jensen’s heart broke at your words. This was his fault, why you felt you couldn’t talk to him. His anger and him lashing out broke something between you two. He took a deep breath, “Baby, whatever it is we will do it together. I’m not going anywhere. I love you more than anything and I’m so sorry I’ve made you feel like you can’t talk to me. You can always talk to me. It’s my job as your husband to share the load with you. Please, sweetheart, talk to me. What did the doctor say?”

You met your husband’s green eyes and said, “I’m pregnant.”

Jensen’s eyes went wide. At first you couldn’t read his expression. Your heart thumped loudly in your chest.

He leaned down, took you in his arms and crashed his lips to yours. The kiss was filled with passion and joy. You returned the kiss with equal fervor. Pour all your love and forgiveness into it.

Jensen pulled away and looked at you smiling. “You’re really pregnant? We’re going to have a baby?” You nodded yes.

“You’re not upset, Jens?” “Oh no, baby. I’m so happy. We’re having a baby!”

Tears pricked your eyes as you kissed him again. “Jensen, let’s go to bed.” You climbed out of bed and walked with him to your shared room. Helping him take off his pants, the both of you climbed into bed and he pulled you in his arms.

“Thank you sweetheart for being here to take care of me even if I’m a jackass, and thank you for having my baby. God I love you. I don’t deserve you.”

“I love you too, Jensen, and yes you do. You deserve so much. I can’t wait to bring our baby into this world. They are going to be so loved.”

Jensen placed his hand on your belly, “They already are.”

As you laid beside Jensen, him holding you close, you realized that your lives had taken an unexpected turn. But you were determined to face whatever challenges came your way, together. No matter what it was.

Tags are open, if you want to be added, let me know.

Tags:

@nescaveckwriter @kr804573

@k-slla @jackles010378

@jawritter @xx-spooky-little-vampire-xx

@roseblue373 @cheynovak

@jassackles @chriszgirl92

@suckitands33 @arcannaa

@n-o-p-e-never @ladysparkles78

@smoothdogsgirl @hobby27

@manicjk @stoneyggirl2

@deans-spinster-witch @snowayumi

@shadowqueen1318 @shanimallina87

@muhahaha303 @fitxgrld

@nancymcl @baby19sthings

@cheekygirl2309 @oceean

@kindollss @foxyjwls007

@lmg14 @cevansbaby-dove

#jensen ackles #he’s so hot #hes gorgeous #jackles #jensen ackles x plus size reader #jensen ackles x reader #so damn sexy

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runningincircl3s · 7 months ago

Text

Nothing Ever After

Noah Sebastian x Reader x Vinny Mauro

Chapter One

chapter warnings: none :)

yippee the first chapter is here!! pls bare with me it gets better, as i'm posting this i’m currently writing chapter 12 and personally i’m giggling and kicking my feet <3 i’ll also be cross posting this on ao3 when i remember my password!

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

"Y/n, are you listening to me?" Bryan asks over the phone.

You were in the middle of making lunch, so your phone was left on the side on speaker as you got the bits you needed out of the fridge, shutting the door with your hip as you walked back to the counter.

"Oh sorry, what did you say?"

"I asked if you wanted to join me and the boys on tour this summer. It'll be good to get some experience, not a lot of bands hire photographers who haven't had any touring experience, and I could certainly do with the help."

"You've got to be kidding.” You slammed the cucumber you were holding on the kitchen counter, shaking your head. “Bry, this is a joke, right?"

"No? Why would I be joking?"

"You're asking me to come on tour with you- with Bad Omens? Isn’t that in a week? You want me to go on tour, next week?!"

"Yes...?” He chuckled, "what's so unbelievable about it? You're my best friend, y/n, I wouldn't ask anybody else."

"Holy fuck." You threw your head in your hands. "I've only met the guys once before, Bry, and you know how that went down!"

"That's why I'm asking you this now. We can fly you out to stay with us for a week or so in California before we leave so you can get to know everyone properly. At least that way it won't be awkward when we're all forced to sleep on each other in the bus." Bryan laughed, knowing the thought of sleeping with at least probably 6 guys on a bus was the last thing you'd want to be doing this summer.

"Well you guys can sleep on the bus, I'm booking hotels."

"So is that a yes...?"

You paused and thought for a moment. This was an opportunity you would never be offered again in a million years, people would kill for this and you’d never forgive yourself if you turned it down.

"You fucker." You grinned, "I'm in."

Bryan booked you a flight that afternoon to LA, leaving the next night. You rushed around your apartment, throwing bits into your suitcase, most likely over packing because you couldn't help but panic that you would forget something.

You couldn’t sleep that night, half of you feeling like you were going to throw up from nerves, half from excitement. The next day you sent a text to Bryan when you got in the taxi to leave for the airport, and he arranged for Matt to pick you up once you landed.

To save even more costs, Bryan said that Noah had a spare room at his house, Jesse had recently moved out and he was happy to let you stay whilst you were there. The thought of staying with Noah made you feel slightly anxious, to say you had a little crush on him was an understatement. Ever since Bryan started working for them you'd been absolutely smitten by him, he was quite possibly the most gorgeous man you have ever laid eyes on.

Bryan gave Matt your number, so you could text him when you landed. The flight went by pretty quick as you caught up on missed sleep and listened to a couple new albums from your favourite artists that you hadn't had the chance to listen to yet.

Once you'd gotten your bags back and gone through security, you let Matt know you were here and he was already on his way to pick you up.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

"Y/n!" Matt called out, and all of a sudden you spotted him getting out of his car. "Great to see you again."

He took your suitcase and bags, putting them in the car, opening the passenger door for you too.

"It's been a few years," you smile, "how are you? How are the dogs?"

"I'm doing pretty good. I moved recently, and the dogs love the new place, there's so much more room for them to run about and play. Me and Alyson are actually thinking of getting another one."

"Awh cute! So you guys are still together?"

"Yeah, I can’t believe it's been 5 years now. We have our ups and downs but I can't see myself with anyone else." You notice he can't help but smile as he talks about his girlfriend.

"What about the guys? Are any of the others in relationships?"

"Ruffilo and Jolly have partners. Folio’s still getting over his ex and Noah's just Noah," he chuckles, "what's your love life currently like then?"

"Well... it's non-existent. I've been working so hard for the last couple years I haven't had time to date or anything. I download and delete dating apps every other week, I don't like using them but there's no other way I'd meet anyone."

The rest of the journey back to Noah's house you continued to catch up with Matt. Besides Bryan, who's been your best friend since you were at school, you spoke to Matt the most out of the guys from the band since he was always active on social media. You often interacted with Folio and Nicholas (sometimes Jolly), but it wasn't ever much more than a happy birthday each year, or comments on each other’s instagram posts. Noah was an entirely different story.

Finally, Matt pulled up to Noah's house, parking on the driveway. You felt nervous, you wanted to tell the guys somethings come up at home and quickly book a flight back, but then you heard the wheels of your suitcase rolling over the ground as Matt handed it to you and the door to Noah's house opening.

"Y/n!" It was Folio, you immediately grinned back at him as he stood at the door, holding his arms out to welcome you with a hug, "it's great to see you again! How long has it been? 3 years?"

"I know, it's crazy! Look how tatted you are now!" You felt like a grandma commenting on how tall their grandsons got.

"You're lucky Bryan asked in advance for you to stay in Jesse’s old room," another voice spoke as you walked into the house, and then you spotted him, "Folio's now sleeping on the couch." Noah laughed.

"Shit, sorry Nick," you chuckled, "but thanks for letting me stay, Noah. I was gonna book a hotel but when I told Bryan the price for just one night he didn't let me."

"Hey, no worries," he smiled, getting up from the sofa, "we can't wait to have you with us this tour. It is your first, isn't it?"

"Yep!"

"Cool,” he took your suitcase from you and led you up the stairs, “here’s your room, it’s actually the biggest in the house. I was contemplating switching so it could be mine but I haven’t had the time,” he chuckled, “but I think it works better now as the guest room.”

“It’s lovely, thank you Noah.”

“No problem! I put fresh sheets on this morning and everything… Also we’re getting the bathroom redone up here as there’s something wrong with the plumbing. But feel free to use the one connected to my room, and there’s also one downstairs but I’m sure you don’t wanna be going all the way down there in the middle of the night.”

“That’s okay, I’m just grateful for the room.” You said, looking around. It was a rather big room, almost as big as your entire apartment. The walls were painted grey, with a few framed art pieces on the wall. The bed was against the wall by the window, the white sheets complementing the wooden frame. There was a tv on the wall and a dresser beneath it with a few Naruto funko pops decorating it.

“You don’t have to keep thanking me.” He smiled, and you felt your stomach do backflips. Noah looked a lot different to how you remembered him, his long hair was now short, his nails he had painted black were now plain, the skinny jeans were replaced by black joggers, but the most noticeable difference was his face, which seemed a lot more structured now, it's as if the haircut had changed everything. Sure, you had seen pictures of him on social media, but it was nothing compared to seeing him in person again.

“I do, I’m essentially a stranger to you.” You chuckled, but he shook his head.

“No you’re not, we met before, remember? Bryan’s 25th, in New York?”

You were slightly surprised he remembered the details, but then you remembered what happened at Bryan’s 25th birthday party in New York, and by the look on Noah’s face you could tell he also remembered.

“Don’t bring that up!” You hid your face in your hands in embarrassment.

“I basically had to babysit you!” He laughed, “a 23 year old woman who couldn’t handle her alcohol, spewed all across my jeans-”

“Hey, I got it on my dress too! And that was fucking expensive.”

“I know, it was all you kept saying.” He laughed.

“I’m sorry, I don’t even know if I apologised to you that night.”

“You didn’t, but Bryan did. We had to kick Folio out of his hotel room that night because you were in no state to go anywhere without us, he had to share with Jolly in the end.”

“Poor guy probably hates me at this point.” You laughed, and Noah smiled.

“I’ll leave you to unpack, I’ll be downstairs. There’s some things I need to double check with Matt before Thursday.”

“Okay, thanks.” You smiled as he left, shutting the door behind himself.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

Later that night, the guys were all downstairs watching some movie they’d been talking about for a while. You came down not long before it ended, as Noah said he was ordering food in for around 7pm.

You sat down on the couch next to Noah, although there was a big gap between the two of you. You checked your phone for a moment, seeing if anything happened in the time it took you to walk down the stairs.

“So is anyone else coming to stay before tour?” You asked as Orie turned the movie off after watching the scene that played after the end credits.

“Uh, I think Nicholas is coming the day before we leave.” Noah answered, reaching for his phone. “Jolly only lives down the street now with his girlfriend so he doesn’t need to travel too far, and Ash lives nearby-”

“Ash?” You question, not having heard that name before.

“My personal trainer, he comes on tour with us as security when he’s available.” Now that he’s mentioned it, you realise he does look pretty buff.

However, you quickly snap out of your thoughts as the doorbell rings and Folio (as he was closest) gets up to answer it.

“Guys, foods here!” Folio shouts from the kitchen as he puts it down on the counter.

You all get up and make your way to the kitchen, you help Folio to work out whose is whose as Noah gets out some plates and Orie gets the forks. You take it through to the living room and Noah passes you the remote to put something on whilst you all eat. You settle on some random show as you know it’ll just be background noise, you have a lot of catching up to do.

“So, Nick, you still go fishing?” You asked, shoving a forkful of food into your mouth.

“Yeah, I actually went at the weekend with some of my friends before leaving to come here.”

“Wait, so where do you live now?”

“Back in Maryland, baby!” He grinned, grabbing his beer from the coffee table, “I’ve been thinking about moving again though, the only reason I stayed was because… well-”

You realised where this was leading.

“Why don’t you think about it whilst we’re touring? About moving, I mean. A fresh start might do you good.” You sent him a smile, which he reciprocated.

“That’s what the guys keep telling me, and now Noah has a couple rooms free I’ve said I’ll think about it.”

“So what about you, y/n?” Noah asked, “would you ever consider moving somewhere like here? I mean when your career starts taking off after this, it’ll be better to be somewhere where you can travel more easily and there’s more connections.”

“I haven't even thought about that…” You admit, “and it’s if my career takes off. I don’t want to get too excited and then not get booked for years, or to go on this tour and find that I hate it.”

“Hey!” Folio looked genuinely offended, “you’re not gonna hate it, I promise you that.”

“It’s just… I don’t know what to expect, and there’s nothing I hate more than the unknown.”

Noah moves his hand to rub your knee as you were sat beside him with your legs crossed, your plate in your lap, as if to comfort you, to reassure you- but it only took your breath away.

“Everything will be okay, y/n. I know where you’re coming from, I’m the same. Every morning and night we go through the plan for the day, where we have to travel, how long it’ll take, how long the breaks will be, if we’ve booked a table to go to eat. I promise we’ll all look out for you... It’s not like I haven't done it before.” He smirks.

“I told you not to bring that up!” You slap him playfully, and the other two guys in the room look over in confusion. All Noah had to mention was ‘Bryan’s 25th’ and they both got it.

“God, how could we forget.” Folio laughed, and Orie just watched in confusion.

“Fuck you guys.” You said, reaching for your pepsi, “maybe on this tour you’ll get so drunk that I’ve got to take care of you!” You raise your eyebrows at Noah.

“Hm, only problem is I don’t drink anymore so I don’t see that happening.”

“You don't? Wow, sorry Noah I didn't know that. That's got to have been tough.”

“It was in the beginning, but now it doesn’t bother me. I like waking up with a clear head in the mornings.”

That smile was going to be the death of you.

——————————

@miss570 @miamore0570 @lma1986 @rumoured-whispers @thisbicc @dominuslunae @jilliemiw86 @collisionofyourkissmakesitsohard

#noah sebastian x reader #noah sebastian fanfic #vinny mauro fanfic #vinny mauro x reader #motionless in white fanfic #bad omens fanfic #nothing ever after <3

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nyasiaaaaa · 1 year ago

Text

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.

#cillian murphy #tommy shelby x reader #thomas shelby x reader #peaky blinders #tommy shelby fanfic #thomas shelby fanfic #tommy shelby #thomas shelby #arthur shelby #john shelby #michael gray #polly gray #ada shelby #thomas shelby x y/n #tommy shelby x y/n

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