#not to mention she would never forgive john

[lauralying]

I just found out that apparently theres some hate in the BS fandom for silverflinthamilton and like ???? Can someone explain ???? That just sounds like such a satisfying conclusion to me.

[rboooks]

Child Support Part 2

Tim watched the other young heroes as they tried to look around the watch tower without seeming like they were. He's been here plenty of times, but the rest of the Teen Titans and a few of the Young Justice hasn't.

Much was due to the older heroes leaving the younger ones alone. Some not taking them seriously enough to welcome them at the big HQ as much as that made his blood boil.

They were taking the same risks. They were fighting the same good fights. Why was their age the main reason they weren't treated equally?

Some teenage heroes weren't part of a team per see, but they always answered when a call was sent. For example, Cass and Steph were present, speaking softly to Static Shock. Damian was standing next to Jon and his little friend Colin who was just getting into the swing of the hero business.

Bruce almost bit through his tongue when Damian told him Abuse would be joining Robin on parol, and he could do nothing to stop them. (Tim felt like he was watching Damian tell Bruce a paraphrased version of "But Daddy, I love him!" and it kept him smiling for weeks)

It was wild to see almost every young hero in one place. He doesn't think this happened since the last time Justice Leauge got mind controlled and almost destroyed the whole world.

"Any idea why we're here?" Kon asks to his right, lowering his shade to stare at the Outlaws. Jason's team stood to the side chatting iddly while cleaning over thier weapons.

Kon's always like their punk point of view, and he knows his best friend wants to go over there to talk to them. If it wasn't for the issue of the clone still being mad about what Jason did at the Teen Titans tower. Almost murder was hard to forgive for people outside the Bats.

"None. All I know is that John Constantine sent out a message to every teenage superhero group calling for a meet-up," Tim responds.

Bart whistles with a grimace on his right. "Must be bad if that guy is asking."

"I heard Hawkwoman tell Superman that she was worried and wasn't sure she wanted anyone of us mixed up in Constantine's mistakes." Cassie chimes in from where she leans on the couch. The three turn to her as she lowers her voice, attempting to keep the others from hearing. "Batman told her off for it."

"Batman did?" Tim asks, surprised.

Cassie shrugs, throwing a bit of her blond hair over her shoulder. "As much Batman can emote anyway."

Yeah, that sounded about right. Though it must have been something Bruce found disrespectful. His dad usually never reprimanded strangers unless they were saying something or doing something that sounded far too much like bigotry to him.

But to apply that to Constantine? Someone, Bruce generally disliked communicating with because the man tended to backstab his contacts? Yes, Constantine wasn't evil, but he wasn't pleasant either.

If Bruce had magical issues, he tended to contact Zatanna first.

Just then, the watch tower's zeta beams activate. Everyone who gathered turns to the teleporting pads where Constantine appears looking, for lack of a better word, absolutely exhausted. Even Tim knows that his eye bags aren't that bad, and he's usually going hours without sleep.

"Oh good, you all made it," Constantine says, sipping from a mug and wearing nothing but sweatpants and what looks like a nightgown. His signature trench coat was nowhere in sight. "I'm going to be quick about this. I need a team of young heroes willing to accept my son into their fold."

The room is dead silent. Constantine sighs. "Look, I've tried everything, but it's like Danny is allergic to laying low. He fought with a demon the other day over a child's doll- which you all know happens. People get haunted! But Danny refused to do it the right way, and now I had to beat off the demon's marriage proposal at least ten times. Not to mention his lack of social skills! No matter which one I stick him in, he can't seem to make friends in school. He got shoved into a locker on his first day! I thought that was an American exaggeration of the telly!"

Constantine pauses and takes a large gulp of whatever he's drinking before continuing his rant. A hand runs through his already messy hair, leaving it in bigger disarray as he speaks. "He's behind in terms of trends and technology cause his other father raised him outside of the typical timelines, so sometimes it's like talking to someone from the early two thousand, and other times it's like he's a modern Victorian era lad. His powers are also all over the place because the ectoplasm in our world is thicker, so when he breathes it in, he losses his control. Just the other day he accidentally made himself fly through our ceiling and almost reach the atmosphere before I was able to bring him back down."

A few of the fliers in the room wince. Jon nods and whispers under his breath, though his voice carries in the silence. "Yeah, been there before. Flying can be scary if you don't know how to come down."

Johns glances around at all the young people, eyes showing a tad bit of desperation. "He's sad all the time now, and I don't know how to help. If working with you could help him make friends, I would be grateful. He's a great kid. He just needs to adjust."

Tim had no idea what to do with this information; how do you respond to arguably one of the strongest Justice League Darks' heroes asking for a play date for his son?

"How old is the child?" Damian's voice rings out. Colin's hand is attached to his sleeve, a slightly nervous smile on the boy's face as he attempts to hide from the staring heroes behind his brother. Tim bets that if he wasn't wearing the domino mask, they would be able to see slight tears in Colin's eyes.

Damian's other hand goes across his body to cover Colin's hand, and Tim fights a shit-eating grin. His eyes lock with Jason, and the two send each other knowing grins. Looks like Bruce did have to worry about Damian having a secret boyfriend.

He can't wait to tease Damian later.

"He's fourteen....or well, physically?" Constantine answers eagerly.

"What does that mean?" Kon asks this time.

"Okay, so he's half human, half ecto-being. He sired him with his other father, Clockwork, which was only four years ago in this dimension, but since he was raised in the Infinite Relemas, times move differently there? " The British man says, and Raven goes rigid.

"Clockwork, as in the most powerful Ancient?" She asks, looking horror-struck when Constantine nods.

Before anyone asked what that meant, the zeta tubes activated again without permission. Someone had hacked into their systems which were ten levels bad. Everyone naturally fell into a fighting stance, only to blink when a teenage boy stepped out with a loud excited screech.

"We're in space!" The teenager runs to one of the windows, pressing his hands and face up against the glass. "This is amazing!"

Tim only relaxes his muscles once Constantine clears his throat. "Chum...what are you doing here?"

"Oh. One of your curse rocks things started proposing to me again, so I ran out of the House of Mysteries. Thought I see what you were up to." The teenager says, turning around with a smile and utterly freezing at the sight of the gathered heroes.

He had dark hair, wide blue eyes, and the most adorable face Tim had ever seen. Not as sexy as Bernard, of course, but darn close. Judging by the looks of anyone attractive to males, most heroes thought the same.

"Um...hi?" He says, offering the Godsmack teenagers a helpless little shrug. "I'm Danny Constantine."

"It is a pleasure, Constantine." Damian marches over to him with all his little twelve-year-old authority. He barely reaches Danny's chest. "I shall look forward to working with you. Are you formally trained in combat or strictly magic?"

"Um...oh, I can throw a punch or two? I'm mostly self taught. I rely on my powers a lot?" Danny fumbles to answer throwing a desperate look at his presumed father.

"No matter. I shall have you begin training. My Beloved also needs to work on his form. There is no shame in this" Damian nods, and Constantine lets out a large sigh of relief. He jogs over to place a hand on his son's shoulder, giving him a one-sided hug

"Yes, Danny, you will join Robin, Superboy, and Abuse on missions. They agree to help you settle and get used to your ghost powers." Constantine smiles. "I'll give me time to discourage all those idiots from trying to trick you into marriage."

"Oh...okay. It's nice to meet you all. Please call me Phantom on the field. Um, are you the team leader?" He asks Damian as the three youngest boys lead him further into the watch tower.

Constantine watches them go with the brightest smile he's ever seen on the man's face. He looks back to the group, who were barely starting to pick their jaws off the floor and makes a shooing motion with his hand. "You lot are dismissed."

Then the man vanishes in a green portal.

There is a ringing silence until Barts blurts out. "I'm pretty sure this is where the Phantom Fan Club first formed. A historical moment."

Tim wants to take a nap.

( Part 1 )

[aemondwhoresworld]

WITH WIRED

pairing: ewan mitchell x fem!reader

summary: in which ewan and y/n doing their first interview as newlywed with wired

words-count: 1,3k

warning: fluff, maybe abit cliché?, use of y/n, ewan and y/n being a newlywed couple, reader is quite sensitive, does not have any specific descriptions about y/n and ewan's appearance.

mae: english is not my first language, i do used google translate a few part in this one-shot. also this is my 2nd fic, im a long time reader but im a new writer, haven’t wrote any long imagines before. please forgive me if there was any mistakes. thank u!! maybe a part 2? idk

ASK | SUBMIT A POST | ARCHIVE

you and ewan had the opportunity to meet each other at a new movie premiere few years ago, at the event ewan participated as the main actor and you were a guest invited by the director of that movie.

at first you were quite hesitant about being the one to make a first move to go over to talk to ewan, people would wonder what was the reason? well of course, because you’re attracted by ewan’s charming appearance, but also by how the way he treated his colleagues, or anyone he met.

and then today, at this moment, you both received an invitation from wired to come here for an interview as newlyweds… yes, ewan and you have been married for 3 months now and both are extremely excited for the upcoming interview

it can be said that since you got married, or to be more precise, since the announced, the news has caused the fan community to react extremely positively, of course, negatively as well. yes but mostly positive

—

and 3… 2… 1… the interview begin, camera start rolling

"hi! this is y/n, y/n mitchell" you introduced yourself with a small smile while looking at the camera, then raised your left hand to show off your wedding ring you were wearing on your ring finger at the same time you look over at ewan, ewan now looked at you with this “husband proud smiley” smile

“and, i’m ewan mitchell, husband of this beautiful woman sitting next to me” ewan introduced himself, and then he repeated the same gesture as you, at this moment you heard a few people behind the camera, giggling and enjoying themselves

“we're here with WIRED, answering the most asked questions on google” ewan continued

“but newlywed edition” you and ewan both said at the same time

then a staff member brought out a large copy, with the questions partially hidden. you were now extremely nervous, then turned to look at him and asked softly.

“are you ready to answer these questions” you asked

“always” said and then ewan smiled slightly

"okay, first question for you my dear" you said and then gently pulled the sticky note off with your hand to make the question appear, then you continued to read

“how did ewan and y/n meet?” you read the question, then looked up at ewan and continued, "hmm, do you remember how we met, husband?" you asked ewan

“how could i forget it, the first time we ever met” ewan said while looking at you smiling, he sat thinking for a moment then he continued

"y/n and i met at this movie premiere, well… i was the main character, actor and she was invited by this great movie director, john, as a friend" ewan said, then used his hand to stroke his chin and continued. “while i was you know doing those interview, i saw her was looking at me so after the premier, we have like a little after party, i was just enjoying myself you know…” he laugh “erm.. and i-i saw this pretty lady slowly walking towards my direction and started conversation with me, and after a few minutes of talking, i thought wow she’s kinda nice to talk to, yeah.. that's… that’s how we met” and now you just sit there and giggled, flashing back all of those memories the first time you met him

“great job husband, it's so surprise to know that you still remember the first time we met, cause you never mention it ever since” you laughed and then continued “you know, to be able to date this guy, ewan mitchell, it's really a journey for me. to be mrs. mitchell is a long way" as you said, you used your thumb to point at ewan. at this time, ewan just looked helpless and shrugged his shoulders

from where you sit, you can clearly see the surprised faces of the staff member behind the camera about the fact that how hard it is to get close to him

“it's your turn” you said as ewan tore lightly to see the next question

“are ewan and y/n expecting?” Both you and ewan seemed quite surprised after hearing this question

“really, is this really the most asked question?” you laughed and giggled, “asked google?! this is crazy” you were extremely surprised by this question

“well y/n and ewan ARE NOT expecting… yet, and if we are, we will definitely announce it and share the joy with you guys so there is no need to ask mr google” you laughed, then you tuck your hair behind your ear

“we are not planning on having baby anytime soon and yes we do talk about it more often now since we’re married, you know we both love to build a family of our own but we both think this is not the right time” ewan said, you nodded with agreement with that ewan said

“next question” you looked at ewan, saying “oh i see this question seems long, it might be quite interesting!”

“the question is, have ewan and y/n ever been in a movie together?” you read the question, then you both looked at each other, you asked ewan “we talked about this a few times, aren’t we?”

“oh we literally talked about it yesterday before bed too…“ ewan chuckled then he continue “even though we have never worked together on any movie before, but we both talk about hoping that in the future we will have the opportunity to work together” ewan explained.

“yea…, there's a funny thing that if we both have the opportunity to be act in the same movie, we’ll both hope to be each other's villains” you laughed then ewan continued.

“you know, it's funny when viewers hear y/n and me's names and they might immediately think we're going to play happy married couple but no, there is not lovey dovey birds”

“but i think it's quite interesting, don't you guys think so too?” you turned to look at the camera in front of you, asking the people whom watching (after this interview video was posted).

“I'll let you answer this last question, baby” you said then let ewan remove the last sticky note to read the last question for today's interview.

“how have ewan and y/n enjoyed their marriage life so far?” ewan continued reading the last question and then he continued to answer

“who would ask this question on Google? how would Google know?” ewan replied

and you both sit there and laugh like an idiot because of how stupid this question is. really, how can Google know what your and ewan's married life is like? You laugh until you cry because of the absurdity of it

“how was it, my husband?” you asked ewan with a curious expression, wonder if he liked married life with you or not, making ewan partly amused and partly pampered, looking towards you, while you sat there patiently waiting his answer

“honestly, i am extremely happy and enjoy this married life with my wife. in short, i’m extremely satisfied, i mean who wouldn't, when you marry the person you love, so do i and especially y/n always makes me feel like i’m the luckiest man is marry to y/n, the woman i love the most" ewan replied a bit shyly because you know he rarely shows affection in front of the camera or in public

“ewan, you're going to make me cry” you smiled and used your hand to gently wipe away the happy tears at the corner of your eyes.

ewan then turned to see you so moved and pulled out a small handkerchief from his pocket and wiped your tears.

“i love you” ewan whispered to you while wipe the tear off your eye but he didn't know that the microphone attached to his shirt caught his all his words.

“i love you too but we have to say goodbye to the audience watching this interview first” you said to ewan and then burst out a small laughed

“and these are all the most asked questions on google” you said with excitement again, turning to look at ewan

“thank you WIRED for inviting us, and see you next time” ewan said “goodbye” both you and ewan raised your hands and waved to the audience

WIRED just made post

liked by y/nmitchell and others

wired #EwanMitchell and #Y/nMitchell Answer Most Asked Question On Google (Newlywed Edition)

Now available on WIRED! check out the link on bio

tagged: y/nmitchell

View comments

user1 cannot believe they haven’t had any movies together. that’s a need

user2 my fav couple

user3 i can feels ewan head over heels for her, like even more than before

user4 his eyes always had this bling bling whenever he look at her

[mrsparrasblog]

You're losing me pt. 5

prev. part. first part.

TW: Gun, violence, mentioned rape, gaslighting, medic is shit

It was your last day on sick leave, so you spent it grading papers, cuddling with Winston, and getting distracted by Kyle's messages and his slutty pictures. You were so thankful for Kyle; he never pressed you for what happened with Johnny, just distracted you.

After you send a picture of Winston you heard the bell ringing and rolled your eyes. You knew Kyle never listened when you said not to come over, even though you really needed that time alone right now. Johnny is an artist, even though he didn't admit it, and so was being in a relationship with him. It was like being in a colorful picture, so vibrant. But since you left him, it felt like someone drained out the color; the painting is black and white, no longer golden.

You went to the door, opened it, and to your surprise, it wasn’t Kyle behind the door. She was there, her eyes puffy and red. 

"What do you want?" If she was there to humiliate you, you’re going to throw up. You shortly texted Ky that she was there.

"I wanted to talk to you, I need your help," she sobbed.

Simon always called you one of the nicest people on earth, but right now, it was enough of being nice. "Well, you can ask Johnny for help." You tried to shut your door, but her foot was already between the frame.

"He is the problem."

"What, did he leave you?" you snorted out.

"He threatened to kill me because of the baby." You clearly misheard her. This can't be true, as if you can do anything against Johnny, and as if Johnny would do something against his own teammate.

"Baby?"

"Yes, I'm pregnant, three months." She rubs her nonexistent belly in front of you. Three months? Johnny cheated on you for three months? And a baby? No, this can't be true. Johnny loves babies; he’d never kill a pregnant woman, none of them.

"And he is threatening you?" You asked while slowly trying to pull out your phone again. You knew Si would be here in 4 minutes if you called him.

"Yes, he wants to tell everyone that I raped him, just so I get an abortion." With that, you burst out laughing. This was the worst joke you ever heard. When she wanted you to pull you away from him for real.

"Do you really think I'm that stupid to believe this shit now leave my apartment before I call the police." You already pulled out your phone to dial the number of the police, who are you kidding, dial the number of Simon. Simon and John always explained if something happens to you, call them instead of the police, they solve your problem faster, and that was a gigantic slag-formed problem.

"Bad mistake," she points out a gun to you, calculating. You trained for this situation endless times in school, but it was still different when someone held a gun against you. Would it work to tell her that there are people that love her? Or maybe you should argue with logic.

"When you kill me, they won't forgive you, it's not worth it," you said trying to sound as calm as possible.

"They won't find out," she laughed. God, that woman was batshit crazy.

"Here are cameras," they weren’t recording, but maybe she was stupid enough to believe you.

"They will understand," she said. Maybe she was stupid enough but also crazy enough to not care. There is only the last logical thing you could say to her.

"Then kill me."

"What?" She was surprised at your bluntness, but you knew she couldn’t really kill you, and if Kyle looked at his phone, he would have already been on his way, so you need to get through this for 10 minutes, 10 minutes, and you are safe.

"If you kill me, Johnny will find you, Kyle will break you, Simon will torture you, and John will finish your miserable life, my death isn’t worth this." You slowly walked backward towards the counter, there must be a gun. John put it in there when you first got together. You didn't quite know how to use it, but better than nothing.

"You're right," finally.

"So why don’t we put the gun down and just, you know, talk about it like adults," you suggested, still moving tiny steps backward.

"Stop moving, or I'll kill you," the same words over and over again. She sounded like a broken record recorder. You stopped moving, but this wasn’t enough for her.

"Maybe I should kill your rat, so you listen." Rat? Her gun pointed toward Winston. Fuck, she should better kill you than your baby. You lost complete hope in turning her; she is crazy.

"He is Kyle's dog, not mine. If you kill him, he will be sad." The shake in your voice was evident; tears started to storm out of your eyes; you didn't know what to do anymore.

"Three of four are enough, anyways." Fuck, fuck, fuck.

"I can call them; I'll break up with them, just let Winston be safe, okay?"

"Really, you give up your boyfriends for that rat?" She gestured disgusted at your precious baby.

"Yes."

"Okay, call them," you walked to the counter, dialing Simon's number, close enough to the gun. You really hoped they don’t show a sign that they know; they are SAS; they need to understand, right?

"Hello," good, Simon's voice.

"Are the others with you?" You asked, trying not to tremble; she couldn’t find out what you planned.

"Yes, I put them on speaker, luv."

"I'm breaking up with you, with all of you for final this time. John, you're always putting me in danger, Johnny, you're always with her instead of my home, always on deployment with Simon, and you’re carrying all these scary guns with you that make me afraid, and I hate your stupid dog, Kyle." She looked proud and relieved at you, too stupid to realize. But they were smart, right?

"Okay, just give me back my keys to the office, they’re in the cupboard in the kitchen. I don’t want to see you anytime soon, I will pick it up at three tomorrow, bye." She gained heavily, and all you could feel was relief; you looked at the clock; it was 2:57, three minutes, and the gun. God, you loved your smart boys.

"Will you let me go now?" you asked, and she shook her head.

"Just need to make sure that you never go to my boys again, you can understand, right?"

"I'll move abroad if you want, the US, Germany, Italy, call it and I'll be gone." Before she could reply, she heard a loud bang outside, and that was your chance to grab the gun as she turned around, loaded fucking genius John, but not in safety, idiot. And then you shot, closing your eyes. You never did this before; the closest you came was a water gun at the beach; you didn't hit anything major, only her shoulder, but it was enough for her to lose her stance and fall. Seconds after, the boys went in Simon pulled her to the ground like a bulldozer with John. While Kyle and Johnny ran to you.

"Are you okay?" Both men asked, checking you for any injury.

"I don't feel okay."

"We know, love." You wrapped your arms around Johnny and began to sob. You needed him; you missed him and you were so scared. You knew for a fact he didn't cheat on you after that stunt that woman pulled today.

"We'll take care of her; we will be back soon, luv," Simon said with a devious grin while putting his boot on her to press down on her bullet wound.

John and Ghost left with her, and you knew for a fact your shot would be the nicest thing she witnessed in the next few days.

"I shot someone."

"Proud of you, hen."

"Never shoot again, please, babe; you're terrible at it," Kyle joked, but you still felt shitty. He knelt down, hugging Winston tight. "Oh, you've been such a brave and good boy protecting your mama. Let me take you to the park, pup," he said while Winston barked happily. "You two need to talk this out."

"Only we two now, Johnny."

"Aye, only we two."

"Where do we start?"

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

Taglist: @cod-z , @kaoyamamegami, @postmortem-angel, @jackrabbitem , @sseleniaa , @thigh-o-saur , @littlechomper @ab12305 @darkangel4121 @thychuvaluswife

A/N : so I added the picture of Eliot to make up for the Angst I write 😭

For any who has a light belly (do you say that in english or only in German lol?) the next chapter will be half torture of her and the other half Johnny and Reader <3

[ilyrafe]

𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒍𝒅'𝒔 𝒂𝒑𝒂𝒓𝒕 ✧ 𝒓. 𝒄.

pairing: ex-boyfriend!rafe cameron x ex-girlfriend!reader

warnings: angst

word count: 1k

“hi, rafe.”

just your voice is enough to decentralize him entirely. he didn’t expect to see you at sarah’s party, only because he didn’t know you were back to kildare.

you look beautiful as always. your hair is shorter, but that’s the only thing that has changed about you, at least, it’s what he can assume. the flower crown you’re wearing adorns your sage green dress beautifully.

“hi.” he takes a sip of his mock tail, trying to pretend he’s cool with you there, as if he knew.

“how have you been?”

“good.”

you know rafe too well. his short answers tell you he’s not at all amused by your presence, and that breaks your heart even more. he looks so handsome with a buzzcut, and it’s like he knows it.

“i guess you didn’t know i was coming.” you chuckle quite awkwardly. “sarah convinced me to come, she said it wouldn’t be an issue, but... if you want me to leave, i will.”

“i really don’t care what you do, y/n.”

you sigh, defeated. he’ll never forgive you for what you said. you thought that maybe he would have changed, or at least, understood your point, but you see that he hasn’t done either.

“okay, um... i’ll see you around, rafe.”

he watches you leave, and you’re not even pretending to be happy. he ruined your mood and he knows it. rafe sees sarah comforting you, and she shoots him a glare, making him roll his eyes and leave his spot at the bar.

he should probably leave, too.

when he turns his back and makes his way inside tanney hill, he doesn’t look back. he goes straight to his bedroom and plops down on his king sized bed. the music is muffled, thank god.

he’s been trying to make amends with sarah, even letting her come back home and be with john b in peace. sure, he doesn’t get along with the pogues, but if accepting them is what it takes for him to have the smallest sense of peace, he’ll do it.

rafe has also decided to get sober. after almost dying of an overdose, he was really scared and decided to quit. he wants to make ward proud. staying away from alcohol is a lot harder than quitting coke and marijuana, it turns out. the mock tails aren’t as enjoyable.

as if doing all that isn’t hard enough, you’re back. and with you being back, all of the feelings he’s successfully repressed are coming back up again, stronger than ever.

he hates that he’s given you this amount of power over him.

rafe never did feelings before, and the one time he did, you left him because of himself. rafe is his worst enemy.

he really loved you. well, scratch that. he never stopped loving you. you took care of him, you improved his relationship with ward and sarah. you asked him to quit drugs and selling it. you listened to him and you took none of his bullshit. you held him accountable while giving him grace.

deep down, he knows he fucked up. he wasn’t ready to grow up, but no one likes to say they’re wrong, do they?

“i just think it’s funny how you really believe this little island is an entire world for you.” you snorted. “but i know why you don’t wanna leave this shit hole. you’re a nobody outside the outer banks. there is no “kook versus pogue” once you step out of this place. you’re just another trust fund baby with drug issues to everyone else, rafe.”

he never understood your incessant need to “explore the world”, it’s so childish. you always talked about how you wanted to live in paris, toronto, tokyo, london, seoul, or berlin or whatever (honestly, you have mentioned so many cities, he has lost count), and you always said that you would be happy anywhere else, but rafe doesn’t see himself being happy far from north carolina. from kildare. from tanney hill. it’s where he comes from and where he wants to die. it’s what he knows.

a knock on his bedroom door interrupts his thoughts. rafe huffs and rolls his eyes. when he opens the door, he comes across you.

“what do you want?” he questions, irritated.

you enter his room and close the door behind you, drowning out the noise of the music once again. you’ve missed his bedroom. his bed.

“i think... i think i owe you an apology,” you say. “i shouldn’t have been so mean to you that day, it wasn’t right.”

rafe remains quiet, sitting on his bed, just listening to you talk.

“i just… i never liked it here, and i end up projecting that onto others, and i did that to you. i’m sorry.”

in theory, hearing you apologize should be gratifying, but rafe can’t identify any sign of regret in you. it’s not that he doesn’t think your apology is insincere, it’s that the regret he wanted to see doesn’t exist. you don’t regret leaving kildare nor leaving him.

“apology accepted.”

“thank you.” you smile.

“y/n, are you happy?” he asks.

“hm?”

“are you happy there?”

your smile and small nod tells everything he didn’t want to know. you are happy. in fact, you’re happier than ever.

“i am.”

rafe has vivid memories with you, and your smile has never been so wide, your eyes have never been so bright. maybe this will take him to hell, but he hates that you’re genuinely happy away from there, especially because he isn’t happy. and if he is not happy in where he feels he belongs most, there is no place in the world that makes him happy. 

maybe happiness isn’t an option for him, and the most upsetting thing about this is that money really can’t buy happiness. not the one rafe really needs anyways.

you want to tell rafe how you’re enjoying life for the first time, how being independent is amazing, but also sucks, but it’s still amazing, how the feeling of achieving something on merit is indescribable... but rafe would never understand.

it’s funny how two people who are so similar at first are so different in the end.

“that’s all that matters to me, then.”

i love feedback! let me know your thoughts! <3

[dandelionprints]

Don't Be Late

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x Y/N (lil bit of fluff, angst, tormented Tommy and comfort)

Summary: When Tommy makes a promise to his wife he could never imagine that breaking it could potentially cost Y/N her life.

Warnings: bad language, a couple of slur words as used in the show *not words that I myself deem acceptable!*, a lot of violence, mentions of injuries, blood and death. Reader discretion is advised, do not read if you feel uncomfortable with this kind of content

Word Count: This is a long one coming in at 6,800k

A/N: It's been a while since I've written a full blown fic but I was on a roll so I just went with it! I hope you enjoy, please do like, reblog and/or comment your thoughts on it, I really appreciate the feedback x

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"It's been three days, Pol. Why won't she wake up?"

He leant forwards in his chair, a hand gently grasping  Y/N's as she lay motionless on her hospital bed. Her body was battered with violent purple bruises and cuts covering what seemed to be every inch of her body.

The last three days had been hell, with a mixture of so many emotions running through him  that he didn't know where to put and the not knowing. Worry, anger, sadness. Guilt. So much guilt, it consumed him. 

Tommy wasn't sure if he'd ever be able to forgive himself for not being there to protect her. It could be said that it was a case of "wrong person, wrong time", but that did nothing to subside the sense of dread that filled his stomach whenever he thought about the brutality his wife had been through, all because of him. How scared she must have been on her own waiting for him to come and save her, but he came too late.

"Give her time, Tom. She's been through a lot, her body’s trying to heal, we can't rush these things. Besides, the doctor said this morning that the swelling and bleeding has started to go down so she is getting better. Slowly. We just have to be patient", Aunt Polly delicately placed her hand on his shoulder, softly stroking her thumb back and forth over the newly clean shirt. 

Polly had brought a clean set of clothes to the hospital after seeing that Tommy was too terrifed to leave Y/N at the hospital alone for even a second, leaving him wearing blood soaked clothes for the first day. Y/N's blood.

"I should've been there Pol. None of this would've happened if I hadn't gotten too cocky and dragged John and Arthur down to London to Sabini's club. All this for a fucking business expansion"

He lowered his head and brought his free hand to his forehead, pinching at the sides as if to relieve some of the stress growing with tension there.

"Fuck!", he shouted before quickly covering his face with his hand.

Tommy could feel tears springing to his eyes as he glared down between the gaps in his fingers at the speckled hospital floor. He was so tired of crying in the presence of anyone that wasn't Y/N since the night this whole shit show happened, it made him feel weak knowing other people could see that in fact, yes, Tommy Shelby does have emotions. Y/N  was the only one he'd been able to willingly show any kind of vulnerable emotion to since he'd returned from the war.

The sound of a lighter flicking open followed by the quick sizzle of a cigarette being lit came from behind him as Polly took a drag, before holding it within Tommy's line of vision. 

"Here, take this".

He hesitated for a moment, making sure that no tears would fall, then slowly lifted his head and reached for the now softly glowing cigarette bringing it to his lips and taking a long pull, exhaling the smoke as if it were the stress partially releasing from his body.

Aunt Pol watched him carefully, almost as if she were waiting to see if he was going to explode like a ticking time bomb or finally let his shoulders relax and sink into the chair. She was thankful when he chose the latter, slowly leaning back against the wooden frame, still holding onto Y/N's hand.

"You should go back to the house, Tom. Get some rest. I'll stay with her until you come back", she spoke softly, her own eyes tired from the constant secret worrying she'd been doing as well as sitting with Tommy next to Y/N's bed the last three days.

"No. I won't leave her, Pol. I can't leave her, it's my fault she ended up like this, I can't risk them coming back or the risk of her...", he stopped his words in their tracks as a lump formed in his throat. The tears that had only just subsided now came back, threatening to spill over, "Of her dying. Alone. Without me here letting her know she's safe, that I'm sorry. So fucking sorry"

Polly's face grew empathetic as she saw the pain etched all over Tommy's, the vacant glassiness of his eyes that had only grown darker over the past few days.

"She's not going to die..."

"She might, Pol!", his anger exploded then, the ticking time bomb she'd been waiting for had finally gone off.

The chair scraped on the floor as he stood, letting go of Y/N's hand, before turning to face his aunt who remained seated, not taking her eyes off him.

"How can you be so sure that she's gonna live, eh? How can you be so sure that she's ever going to open her eyes again?"

There was less accusation in his words than it seemed, more like a plead for some kind of reassurance or promise that the love of his life would be okay, that she'd return to the real world again.

Polly stood, then, calm and collected. 

"Because I know Y/N Shelby, and so do you. She's a tough girl, it'll take more than Sabini and the fuckers who did this to take her down. Now, go home and get some sleep. I'll stay here with her, give her a wash and read some of your poetry outloud. The nurses say she can still hear what's going on around her, that she may even end up dreaming of things that are being said so we'll be having no more talk of death. John said he'll take the next shift of watching the door so tell him when you get back to come here. You know he won't let those bastards go anywhere near her if they so much as step foot near the hospital"

Polly’s eyes remained on him like a mother scolding her child until they did what they were told. She knew that he was still reluctatant to leave Y/N's bedside but felt relief when he subtly nodded to her, stubbing out his cigarette and picking up his coat before leaning over Y/N to place a kiss on her head, being careful to avoid the purpling bruise that was forming there.

"I'll be back in two hours, Pol, then you can go home and get some sleep", he said simply, making his way over to the door.

"Not two, six. You need a proper sleep"

He narrowed his eyes at her without saying anything, his lips twitching as if ready to disagree with what his aunt had said.

"I'd say eight but I know you won't be able to stay away for that long. What good are you to her if your eyes can't even focus on what the gun is aiming at? Go. Get some sleep"

Three days earlier

They'd agreed that they would meet at 8pm later that evening, after Tommy finished up with business for the day, where the family car was stored in the garage near the Shelby family home.

"Don't keep me waiting too long", she giggled, stroking his face with the palm of her hand.

"Who says you'll be waiting?", he smiled, taking the hand that was on his cheek and bringing it to his mouth, placing a soft kiss to it.

The Garrison hadn't opened for the day yet but the Peaky Boys were starting to gather at the bar, getting in a pint before the days business was about to begin. John and Arthur were already trying to place a bet with Isaiah about who could down the most pints before blacking out with Arthur claiming it to be him.

"Eh, lads! No more drinking until business is finished for the day, and Arthur, I could place twenty pound on it being anyone but you who could drink the most", Tommy interrupted, leading to a cackle of ladish jeers. 

Y/N laughed before getting Tommy's attention once again, this time placing a finger beneath his chin and gently pulling his face towards hers.

"I know you, Tommy Shelby. You like to be on time when it's for business but business is also what makes you late to see me"

He felt a pang of guilt hit his stomach at her words, he knew she was right. He'd lost count of how many times he'd come home to find her curled up in front of the fire in his office fast asleep. How many times he'd either carried her up to bed or simply placed a blanket over her while he continued working into the early hours of the morning. 

"I promise, love. I'll be at the garage at 8pm sharp"

This time he leant forward and touched his lips to hers, taking in the sweet flavour of her lips that he loved so much.

"Go on, Pol will be waiting for you"

She paused, "Is it bad to say that I don't believe you?"

"I promise, Y/N"

She wanted to believe the sincerity in his eyes but a tiny part of her knew that she'd more than likely be kept waiting out in the cold while he finished up business for the day. 

"Okay", she half smiled, "I love you, Mr. Shelby"

Tommy kissed her then, brushing a strand of hair that had fallen across her face behind her ear.

"I love you too, Mrs. Shelby"

---

It was already dark by the time she'd made her way to their meeting point with only the glow from a firepit in the workshop opposite as the main source of light, rain flooding down onto the pavement outside in typical autumnal British fashion creating the sound of pattering on the old tin roof of the garage.

Y/N sighed as she leant against the black Ford Model T, taking a look at her watch. 8:03pm. 

'Well, it's only three minutes late, let's see if he's here before four minutes late', she thought to herself. 

There wasn't much to see in the garage other than old petrol can's and some oiled rags that had been dropped lazily on the floor, not that she could see much anyway with only the fire for her source. In fact, it only stretched as far as half the length of the garage, where unbenownsed to her there were men that were lurking in the shadows, ready to pounce on the unsuspecting victim. 

"Get 'em!"

The sound of a thick London Italian accent echoed through the cold rickety room and all Y/N could think to do was to cower against the car, waiting to be manhandled in some kind of way, the panic instantly settling into her chest.

It was obvious that the men who now had their fists blowing punches to her face didn't have a clue it was in fact a woman they were beating and not a man, probably due to the fact the fire was doing little to show that she'd wrapped her scarf over her head to stop the rain from ruining her curls. They didn't realise until she mustered enough strength through the continuous punches to let out the loudest scream she could.

It was only then that the men took a step back as the same voice from before bellowed out, "Stop!"

She held her hands up to her face and felt a slick warm liquid quickly covering them, the skin beneath it sore to the touch. Her left eye was blurry from the mixture of what she could only assume to be blood and swelling, but she could just about make out the silhoutte of a slim man with a hat standing near the wall.

The adrenaline was already kicking in helping to keep some of the pain from showing it's full potential, but her fight or flight hadn't seemed to of made an appearance yet. All she could do was stand there, frozen to the spot, her hands still holding her bloodied face.

"You must be Tommy Shelby's missus", spoke the man with the hat, taking a step forward confirming in the dim light that it was who she'd feared it would be. Sabini.

"What's the matter? Cat got your tongue?", he smirked, leering towards her only inches from her face, "Apologies for the misunderstanding, we thought you were Mr. Shelby"

Her heart dropped into her stomach at the thought that this beating was meant for Tommy, that she knew they intended to do more than land a few punches to his face. She spat at the ground infront of Sabini's feet.

"You're lucky it was me and not Tommy, he'd have your eyes the minute you laid your hands on him", she was surprised by how even she managed to keep her voice despite the sheer panic coursing through her. 

Y/N knew it was a lie, that Tommy would be far too outnumbered to take on five of Sabini's men on his own especially without being able to see much.

Sabini laughed, throwing his head back slightly before stopping abruptly and grabbing onto each of her arms.

"You listen here you little princess, I don't think you quite understand the extent of how pissed off I am at your fella. You see, him and his brothers came to my club in London two nights ago. The Eden Club. A well run establishment, I'm sure you've heard of it. Anyway, they caused such a fucking scene that I've had to take matters into my own hands. I was planning on getting to Tommy, show him how scared he should really be about barging into one of my clubs, but it seems I may now have an even better way of sending that message".

Even with the light uneven across his features she could see a sly snarl creep onto Sabini's face, his breath fanning against her skin as he spoke. It was enough to make her want to wretch.

"Right boys, forget about Tommy. I want you to do what you were going to do to Tommy to her"

Her heart flew straight into her throat, threatening to jump out of her mouth at any moment. She wanted to throw up but the best thing she could do now would be to gain as much attention to passers by as she could. She screamed again only to have her mouth covered by Sabini as two men took over the hold on her arms.

"Listen here you little bitch, whether you like it or not, you're getting a beating. If Tommy's not man enough to face me himself and resorts to showing up to one of my clubs instead then this is what happens, someones pretty little face gets smashed in"

"You're a fucking creep! Tommy will be here any minute and I'm sure his brothers will be with him too, you won't know what fucking hit you!", she spat, the venom spewing from her mouth.

Sabini wasted no time in landing a hard slap against her already throbbing cheek making her splutter out whatever saliva she had left. He didn't leave it there though as his gripped both hands around her throat, squeezing as tight as he could.

"We'll be glad to see Tommy and his brothers, we can have a nice little catch up. Those boys couldn't organise a piss up in a brewery no matter how hard they tried so I'm not too worried. Carry on boys"

He let go of her throat leading her to gasp for air, her lungs felt like they were on fire with every harsh breath.

She didn't even have time to brace herself from the punch that was swiftly administered to her stomach, knocking out every bit of air she had managed to gain back, bringing her to the ground with a hard thump. Her head bounced off the ground sending a shockwave of pain running over her skull and down her neck. 

The punches were now followed by the kicks of steel toe capped boots, each kick more painful than the last until she almost felt numb. Where the fuck is Tommy?

She wanted nothing more than to scream out for him, to hear him running towards the men with bullets flying, ready to put an end to this nightmare, but all she could do was sob as the pain coursed through her.

"Boys, hold her up", Sabini's voice cut through the sound of the thumps and thuds, his voice menacing laced with a sneer.

Two men gripped Y/N's arms and yanked her back onto her feet, knees buckling beneath her with one of her ankles too weak to bare any weight. She was pretty sure she had some broken ribs and that her ankle was much the same way but she knew there was nothing she could do about it now. The only thing she could do was let her head loll forwards with sheer exhaustion. 

It was hard to keep her eyes open as her head was pulled up by a harsh grab of her hair, weakness taking over her entire body.

"Look at me. I said look at me!"

Another firm yank of the hair had her gaze just about managing to focus on Sabini, his eyes showing a glint of evil.

"I want you to tell your dirty gypsy husband that I'm coming for him next, if he wants to take over my race tracks then he's gonna have to fight for it"

"You're a fucking pig Sabini", her voice was hoarse as she spoke, her head longing to fall fowards again and let her eyes shut.

"Take my fucking name out of your mouth! 'Ere, Franco, take my name out of this scum's mouth"

She wasn't prepared for what came next as a blade was forced inside her mouth, her cheeks slowly being cut as well as a part of her lip. The taste of the metallic blood filled every tastebud, the only noise she was able to make were muffled groans as the cold metal sliced roughly through her skin.

Her body suddenly dropped to the floor once more, the sound of the mens foot steps starting to fade as they made their way towards the back of the garage and through a hole in the wooden panelling. 

"Don't forget to give your husband my message, if you survive that is", Sabini's spoke, a chuckle following him as he finally left her and made his way out the same way as the other men. 

She had no energy to even cry any more, a numbness enveloping her body and the blood still slowly seeping out of every cut she'd sustained.

She couldn't focus on anything now, the need for sleep becoming too great to keep her eyes open. She didn't even hear Tommy's footsteps quickly approaching the garage a minute later where she lay in a pool of her own blood. All she could do was let her eyelids drop as she slipped into darkness.

—

"Y/N! Oh fuck, Y/N!"

His cries bellowed through the bleak surroundings, the only movement to be seen was the flicker of the flames from the fire in his peripheral. 

“John! Arthur! Where the fuck are you?”, he screamed into the night before turning his attention back to Y/N.

"C'mon Y/N you need to wake up now, c'mon sweetheart", his desperate pleas did nothing as he cradled her head, her blood soaking into his trousers. He could see her chest rising and falling but knew that it was getting slower and slower with every moment that passed by.

It'd only been a minute or so since he'd gotten there but he could've sworn it'd been more like an hour, his heart thumping so hard that he thought it would surely pop out of his chest. 

"John! Arthur!"

Tears were streaming down his face, dripping onto Y/N's blood soaked cheeks, leaving streaks running through the red liquid.

He knew his brothers were meant to be on their way with the promise of a bed at Arrow House for the night. He just hoped that they would be sober enough to help deal with the chaos that was going on.

There was so much blood that he didn't know what to do. Sure, he could leave Y/N and go get help himself, but he didn't want to leave her alone for even a second. He'd already let her down once this evening and he'd be damned if he was going to let her die here alone on the cold stone floor, or have the people who did this to her come back and finish off the job.

John and Arthur came stumbling through the open door of the garage, an arm wrapped over each others shoulders as they laughed about how many women they'd managed to pull that night. As soon as they saw the scene in front of them though, the laughing soon stopped and they both straightened up, their eyes almost not wanting to look at the state before them.

"Who the fuck did this, Tommy? Where the fuck are they? I'll fuckin’ get 'em Tom I fuckin’ promise you, those bastards won't get away with this!" John's hands had grown into fists with his knuckles turning white, the anger twisting his face into pure hatred.

"It doesn't matter right now, John. Just go and get help, call a fucking ambulance!", Tommy looked to Arthur whose expression had turned more into terror than anything else, "Arthur, I need you to get Pol, tell her Y/N's hurt, badly. Tell her I need her here, I need... just get her Arthur, now"

It took a second longer than Tommy would've liked but both brothers soon turned and ran out towards the Shelby family home, their legs wobbling beneath them as they went.

"I'm sorry, Y/N. I'm so fucking sorry", Tommy sobbed as he gently stroked her face, pulling her in closer to him. His mind was racing with all the questions he was dying to know the answer to.

He knew he should be worrying about who it was that had done this to her but he was pretty sure he knew the answer to that already, and he wasn't about to waste what time he might have left with his wife thinking about that. No. All that mattered right now was that Y/N was going to live, that her eyes would open and she'd look up at him with that brilliant smile he loved so much to tell him that she was okay, that she was going to survive this.

Flashing lights appeared outside whilst Tommy had his head rested on Y/N's, whispering over and over again how sorry he was and how much he loved her. The pain he felt was all consuming and he knew he'd give anything to be in her position right now, just like it should have been.

Even when the medics came to retrive Y/N he couldn't bare to let her go, he insisted on carrying her into the back of the ambulance and holding her all the way to the hospital. They knew better than to argue with the Shelby man but managed to convince him to allow for her vitals to be monitored on the journey there, her pulse rate rapidly declining.

Polly hadn't arrived at the garage quick enough so Arthur had driven both Polly and John to the hospital at speed, swerving all over the road as they went, the tires slipping on the slick ground beneath them.

When they finally got there they saw Tommy disappearing through the double doors with Y/N still in his arms, a trail of blood on the floor behind him. This was going to be a long night.

—

The doctors had managed to get her heart rate back up to a reasonable pace by the time she was settled into a private hospital room. Fluids were being administered consistently alongside different medicines flowing through the tubes, her wounds now dressed with bandages and a thin blanket covering her black and blue body.

"Mr. Shelby, your wife has been through a terrible ordeal, it's a miracle she's still alive", a tall man with slicked blonde hair and glasses spoke, a clipboard and pen in his hands.

"When will she wake up?", Tommy tried to shake off his annoyance at the doctors statement of the obvious, of course this was a fucking terrible ordeal! Anyone with eyes could see that. He just wanted the facts that mattered most.

"Mr. Shelby, as I said, your wife has been through a terrible ordeal..."

Tommy grimaced, "I fucking know she has, don't you think I can see what's right in front of me? That and the fact I found my wife lying in a pool of her own blood half dead? Just tell me, when will she wake up?"

He was growing tired of not having answers to the main question he had and knew he wouldn't be able to relax until he had a definitive answer.

"The honest answer Mr. Shelby is that we don't know. To be blunt we're not sure if she's going to"

Tommy's heart dropped into his stomach.

"As you know, she's been through...", the doctor paused, not wanting to use the term 'terrible ordeal' again, "A lot. We've taken some images of her brain and we can see that she has some bleeding and swelling. We're not sure that she can recover from something like that, we can only hope that she will. Her injuries are severe, Mr. Shelby. As well as the damage to the brain she also has some internal bleeding, broken ribs, a collapsed lung, brusing to the esophagus, cuts to the inside of her mouth and a broken ankle. We're doing everything we can to ensure that she'll recover from this but it will take time. I'm sorry"

A ringing sounded in Tommy's ears, a noise so defeaning that he couldn't focus on anything right now other than the fact Y/N might not make it through this. His chest tightened and he found himself struggling to breathe, the sheer weight of the words he'd just heard sitting heavy on his chest.

"Are you okay, Mr. Shelby?"

"Leave. Now, please. Leave!"

The doctor wasted no time in carrying out Tommy's order as he scurried out of the room, closing the door behind him.

Tommy fell to the floor, his knee's weak and unable to hold him upright. He clutched his chest as he gasped for the air that seemed to have become so thin in the room. Tears that had gathered in his eyes began to fall and there was nothing more he could do than kneel there on the cold floor as his world came crashing down around him. 

If he'd of been there at the time they'd agreed then this wouldn't have happened, not to Y/N anyway. It would be him laying in the hospital bed in front of him instead of her, or he'd be laying in a ditch somewhere ready for some poor passerby to find when dawn came. 

He knew for a fact that the guilt that was growing in strength would never leave him even if she did make it out of this, that he'd always blame himself for not being on time. 

A small knock on the door brought him shakily back up onto his feet again as he gripped onto the frame of the bed. Tommy managed to wipe away his tears just in time for Polly, John and Arthur to walk into the room. 

He couldn't look at them, only at Y/N laying in the bed. Her lifeless body was slightly sinking into the mattress beneath her, a mess of hair covered in congealed blood surrounded her head.

"Is she going to be okay, Tom?", John's voice quietly cut through the silence like a knife. 

Tommy took a moment before letting out a sigh, the lump in his throat wanting to escape and cause tears to come flooding out. 

"I don't know. The doctor said that she's got bleeding and swelling on the brain amongst other things. They don't know if she's going to wake up".

The room stayed silent with no one wanting to say a word, both for fear of upsetting Tommy further and also because what else was there to say? There was nothing any of them could do to make the situation better or to make light of any of this.

Tommy took a seat next to Y/N's bed side and held her fragile hand, longing for her to wrap her fingers around his, but of course she didn't. Even that alone was enough to make his heart break.

"John. I need you to arrange for the blinders to be on a rotation of a look out. I don't want anybody coming in or out this hospital without us knowing about it. Arthur, take Isaiah and a couple of the blinders with you to London, I need you to find Sabini", Tommy spoke plainly, not taking his eyes off of Y/N.

"Yes, Tom", Arthur nodded, motioning for John to follow his lead out of the room.

"Oh, and Arthur? When you find him", Tommy turned to look at him now, his eyes cold but somehow a fire lit in them, "Bring him to me. Alive"

—

Three days later

As expected, Tommy arrived back at the hospital within four hours instead of the six Aunt Polly had ordered. 

He couldn't sleep. Every time he'd managed to drift off he was soon awoken by nightmares of Y/N's screams as she was repeatedly kicked and punched, the sound each one of the blows made making his stomach churn. He could see her body laying there in a pool of blood with sobs wracking her chest... her calling out his name and him not being able to reach her even though he could see everything that was happening. 

Tommy woke up in a cold sweat, his clothes soaked right through and his hair wet. He decided he was better off admitting defeat than to try going back to sleep, the thought of having to see those images of Y/N whenever he closed his eyes was enough to make his blood run cold. 

His childhood home was quiet when he made his way downstairs. Ada had taken Finn to Arrow House under her watchful eye with Karl, it was better to be in a house that was stocked with firearms than back in London with nothing but a single pistol and where Sabini could be lurking in the shadows. 

John had gone to the hospital to take the next watch and Arthur was somewhere in London seeking out Sabini and his lackeys, waiting to hand him a blow that would make the Italian man wish he'd never come to Birmingham.

Tommy decided on having a bath before putting on clean clothes, taking a look in the mirror before he left. His complexion had almost drained of colour over the past three days with the exception of the dark circles that appeared under his eyes, much darker than usual. 

"God I hope she wakes up soon", he muttered to himself, adorning his peaky cap and reaching for the door handle before stepping out onto the bustling streets of Birmingham, lighting a smoke as he made his way to the hospital.

When he walked through the doors of Y/N's room he noticed something different. Aunt Polly was no longer sitting there with sadness in her eyes, instead she was stood next to the bed holding Y/N's hand, a small smile upon her face.

His eyebrows furrowed with confusion and his pace slowed as he approached her.

"What's happened?" he asked, nervous energy rushing through him.

"She moved, Tom. All on her own, she moved!"

Polly was beaming now, fresh tears sprang to her eyes and she had to resist the urge to hug him.

"What do you mean she moved?"

"I mean, I was reading her one of your poems and holding her hand. Her fingers started to move as if she was trying to tell me she could hear me. She's still in there Tommy"

His heart swelled in his chest although he didn't want to get his hopes up too much, there was nothing worse that breaking your own heart with false hope.

"It might've just been the nerves jumping, Pol. She probably doesnt have control of her body right now", he knew he sounded like dismissive bastard but he couldn't bring himself to believe that Y/N could do that but not open her eyes.

"Stop being so bloody negative Thomas. I'm telling you exactly what I saw with my own two eyes. Read to her yourself, you'll see", Polly scolded him, picking up the pages she'd left on her seat and going to hand them to him.

Tommy said nothing but shook his head towards the pages and instead took a step closer towards Y/N's bed. 

Polly placed Y/N's hand in his and softly spoke, "Y/N love, if you can hear what we're saying then squeeze Tommy's hand, let us know that you're still there".

He held his breath as he waited to see if she'd respond, his eyes watching her fingers like a hawk.

"She's not moving, Pol. You're seeing things with the lack of sleep, go home and get to bed, I'm here now and I'm not going anywhere"

"Don't tell me what you think I may be or may not be seeing and certainly don't tell me what to do. You may be a man now Thomas but I'm still able to lay you across my knee and give you a good hiding", her eyes glared daggers into the side of his head as he continued to stare at Y/N's fingers, unmoving on top of his.

"I'm sorry Pol, I just can't... I just can't stand the thought of having the hope there that she'll show me she's okay if she never actually...", he stopped dead in his tracks.

His mouth dropped open and his gaze widened in shock as Y/N's fingers started to slowly lift upwards before coming back down to rest on top of his fingers, trying to curl themselves around his.

"Y/N? It's okay, I'm here. You're safe", he placed his free hand over hers and leant over to kiss her head, the bruises still prominent, "I'm sorry Y/N, I'm so fucking sorry".

Tommy couldn't hold back the tears that were coming and let them spill out to fall down her cheeks, the overwhelming burst of relief he felt within his soul was like nothing he could explain. 

Polly stood with a hand over her mouth, a smile beneath her fingers. 

"T-T-Tommy?..."

Did she just speak?

His head shot up, eyes wide in disbelief. When he caught the first glimpse of her face he could see that her eyes were slightly open. Her eyeballs had red spots on them where blood vessels had burst, either from the pressure of being strangled or from the numerous hits to the face she'd sustained. He tried to hide the shock that hit him and gently cradled her face with both hands, careful not to press down on the discoloured blotches that lay beneath them.

"You're awake, you're... I-I can't believe it", he stuttered, scanning her face for any kind of expression.

"Y-you... w-w-were... late", she croaked.

It was almost as if he'd taken a stab to the chest as her words met his ears and the guilt came flooding back.

"I know, I'm so, so sorry Y/N, I really am. I don't think I'll ever forgive myself for this, not for as long as I live"

He stifled a sniff as his tears continued, a sob escaping his lips as his face screwed up into pure anguish.

"I-it's... okay", she murmered, taking a deep breath, "do-don't be... s-sorry... I-I'm j-just... glad i-it w-wasn't... you"

"No sweetheart, no. It's not okay, none of this is okay. Because of me, you're lying here in a hospital bed, completely black and blue with internal injuries and broken bones, all because I got too cocky and tried to challenge that fucker. I swear to you, Y/N. I'm gonna put a bullet between his eyes for this, he's not going to get away with it".

He brushed a stray strand of hair away from her face and she smiled softly, the memory of him doing to same back in The Garrison just before she'd left him that day, just before all of this happened…

"H-he said t-t-to... g-give you a... m-message..."

"No, shh shh, it's okay. You don't need to tell me anything right now, you need to rest and get better. You can hardly speak. Tell me anything you need to when you start to feel better. All I care about right now is that I have you, here, alive. No amount of money nor business could come close to how happy I am right at this very moment"

Two Days Later

She'd been awake more frequently over the next couple of days with each day being better than the last. Her bruises had now started to turn a lighter shade of blue with greens and browns dotted through them and the bleeding and swelling on her brain had improved significantly. 

The doctors were stunned at how well she was doing, they half expected her to die within the first few days she'd arrived at the hospital. 

"How are you feeling today?", Tommy asked as he stroked her hair from his position on the edge of the bed.

"A bit be-tter than yesterday", she softly smiled. She couldn't deny that she still felt like absolute shit and that every time she breathed it felt like she was trying to push air through a straw, but she was just relieved that she'd survived this whole ordeal, "Can you h-help me sit up a b-bit please?"

He instantly stood and gently swooped an arm beneath her legs and the other behind her back, carefully lifting her up before sitting her back down on the bed and repositioning her pillows behind her against the headboard. She winced with the motion but tried her best to hide it. She already knew that Tommy had so much guilt eating him up inside, it almost felt like if she showed him that she was in any kind of pain that it was a reminder of how much he'd fucked up.

"Is that okay?"

She nodded slowly, aware of her aching neck with every slight movement.

"Good, it's nice to see you looking a bit more like yourself", he smiled, his eyes studying every inch of her face.

"Sabini t-told me to tell y-you t-that he's coming for y-you next and that I-if you want to take o-over his race tracks then you're gonna h-have to fight for it... I'm s-scared, Tommy"

Tommy moved his chair closer to the bed, so close that his knees were touching the side of the frame, and took her hand in his.

"I promise you Y/N, you have nothing to be scared about. I know that I broke my promise before about being on time and it cost both of us more than I thought possible, but I swear to you, right here, right now in this moment, I won't let that fucker come near you ever again"

A response to that seemed impossible. Of course she wanted to believe her own husband but when he'd already broken one promise, one that had ultimatley almost led to her death, how could she possibly believe that he'd keep this one?

He could see her thoughts running round her mind, her eyebrows furrowing and mouth twitching like she didn't know what to say.

"Look, I know I fucked up massively. I will never be able to explain to you how sorry I am and I'd understand completely if you didn't want to be with me any more, but please believe that I will do everything in power from here on out to make sure that you're safe"

He was almost scared to hear what she was going to say. Did she want to leave him? Was he destined to lose his wife, not by death this time, but from the sheer fact she didn't think he could keep her safe?

"I-I could n-never leave you, T-Tommy Shelby", she smiled, her lips curving up into her bruised cheeks. 

Tommy stood up and brushed his lips against hers, laying a tender kiss upon them before pulling back slightly, enough to still feel her breath on his face.

"Just p-promise me one m-more thing", she spoke, looking into his eyes.

"Anything"

"Don't ever be l-late again"

He grinned, the twinkle in his eyes that she hadn't seen since waking up returning once more.

"I promise"

———

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[tojisun]

you're breaking my heart with him who we love and i absolutely adore it!!!! (っ◔︣◡◔᷅)っ ❤

may i ask what johnny (and maybe even simon?) would do if reader - after feeling left out for so long - finally decided to move on and/or find someone else? maybe she gravitated towards kyle and/or john bc they’re sweet and gentle with her and her affection is finally being reciprocated?

and please feel free to ignore this if it doesn't interest you. no pressure at all!

ohn my god no bc im so so glad so many of u are brainrotting w me again about 'him who we love' <33 i could not stop thinking about it on our way home yesterday

!! vague descriptions of an injury and an attack; mentioned callsign for reader but its not important!!; and its so so rambly so do forgive me ): // divider by @/plutism <3

id love to see this happen after that mission mishap with simon and the reader. it takes an explosion; an acrid burn peeling his flesh from his back and you sewing him together with such vitriolic desperation that ghost almost, almost, felt bad for the way he’s treated you; and an apology murmured from the softest lips he’s never really noticed for simon to—

feel his chest twinge.

the denial sits on the tip of his tongue, razor-sharp and blisteringly sour. it waxes, and simon heaves from something more than the pain burrowing deep into his being. he trembles from something that isn’t the agony he feels for returning to johnny as more of a ruined man who is unable to bury the fear of anything that is set ablazed.

(he remembered the day when he finally came to, groggy eyes peeling open before snagging a fracture of liquid orange—fire, his mind screamed, pulsing because: i’m not gonna be able to come back—and lurching out of the bed only for his body to collapse, and he fell with a choked yell, pain blooming from all of his synapses almost like a beast coiled deep into the fabrics of his very existence.

you ran into the room, yelling his name, and something about the way your voice was so raw with worry and anguish, simon was able to calm down. almost like a part of him realized he was safe now, with you; like it knew that you wouldn’t let anything happen to him, not then and not ever.

while you helped him back on the bed, he turned his head to try and see what it was that set him off—

simon’s breath hitched, his eyes straining as a lump lodged itself into his throat because it was—

the fire was—

it wasn’t fire.

there, bouncing off a glass vase, were serpentine rays of the afternoon sun rippling across the walls and bathing him in warm light.

“is there, uh, something you need?” you asked, trying not to hover but unable to truly leave him be.

simon swallowed, running his tongue on the back of his teeth, before murmuring, “shut the curtains.”

you turned to the windows, your brows furrowed, and simon clenched his teeth, bulldozing through the shame curling in the pit of his stomach and added, “please.”

you did what he asked without prodding, and simon swallowed down the rawness of his vulnerability, watching you with something pretty fluttering in his chest but he tried to stomp it down because—

he despises you, remember? so why…)

but the feeling bloats and simon spends the rest of the exfil in silence, watching you—he’s always been watching—but this time it’s without malice. instead, it’s with bubbling interest, pushing at the back of his mind, and rising ever so slightly like a tide.

he thinks of johnny, of the way mactavish had danced around the idea of something more with the three of you, and finds that he’s not too opposed to it anymore. instead, he looks forward to the change.

-

no sooner after the bird touches down on the base, price pulls you into his office. simon’s been wheeled into the sick bay and was stranded there, doctor’s orders, so he only learns about what happened later into the night when mactavish finds him, sorrow so heavily etched on his face.

“tavish?” he asks, ignoring the way his voice comes out as a croak. “what happened?”

“hyde’s gone,” johnny says, slumping into the seat beside simon’s bed and burrowing his head into his palms. “they apparently requested to be assigned somewhere else. cap’n won’t say where.”

“when?” he asks although simon can’t even feel himself move, his mind trying to reconcile the events that happened because there’s no way this occurred in the fly; not when, he remembers, you looked so resolute on the way back like you knew what was going to happen the moment you two returned.

like you had planned this for a while now—

“when’d they ask?”

johnny shifts, meeting his eyes, and simon’s heart crumbles at seeing the weight of johnny’s anguish painted on his face. he sniffles, and rasps out, “probably two months ago, s’what garrick said.”

two months ago—the same night when you managed to find a way to contact the base. the same night when simon’s realized what it must be that he feels for you.

(the same night when you’ve shyly asked him what about mactavish did he like.

“the six inches that you so intimately know,” he replied, cheeky and teasing.

you rolled your eyes, groaning at how disgusting he was, and he piped back how he’s a patient and has all rights to be as gross as he could.

you laughed, chucking a balled paper towel at him and simon remembers the way you looked so…at peace bantering with him that he couldn’t even fathom you were thinking of leaving.

what changed for you? what was it? why couldn’t you have waited—

why didn’t he realize sooner—

whywhywhy?)

notes: tbh i dont think hyde would gravitate towards price n gaz bc their affections for ghoap, particularly for ghost, was so intense. also, even before this ask ive always planned for hyde to leave. their feelings could potentially risk the team morale, which price even talked to them about in the prev works (mentioned in passing)!

[ghostofwriting]

In London: this is when the feeling sinks in

Rafe x Reader

Warnings: mentions of cheating. Unedited.

Note: oh no!! She's back and ready to make Rafe cry. This is part of the In London universe.

Word Count: 1,204

“Hey!” It’s Sofia. She sounds way too cheery for the time of night. He turns to look at her and gives her a half smile. 

“What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be on maid of honour duties?” She laughs, leaning over the bar to look at him. 

“Well, it’s 1:00 AM, the wedding party rests.” 

“Except for you.” he stares down at his drink and swirls it around in the glass. 

“Yeah, because a little birdie told me you needed to be picked up before your tears flooded the place.” She’s trying to play it off but he sees the worry for him on her face.

“Rob told on me? Narc.” He looks over at Rob who just shrugs his shoulders. 

Sofia puts a hand on his back, tapping him. 

“Let’s get you home.” The idea of going home, falling asleep, and waking up in the morning to her officially gone makes him feel sick. 

“I can’t be on this island.” She looks at him inquisitively, lifting a perfectly shaped brow. 

“Knowing that she’s getting married? I’m suffocating.” She frowns at him, she crosses her arms and takes a step back. 

“Get on a boat. I don’t care. Just don’t make a scene.”

“Don’t be mean. I’m not hurting anyone here.”

“Rafe, I love you. You are my best friend. But she is too. As much as she denies it, I know it hurts her. The way you’re acting isn’t good for either of you. Get it together. Let her go.”

He bristles at her words. Some friend she is. Sofia never told him she was engaged. Never told him she was getting married. He had to find out from her, the weekend of her wedding. 

He had called both Sofia and Topper to yell at them for not telling him and they had come up with some bullshit excuse about not knowing how to tell him. Not wanting to hurt him.

 Sarah told him that she wanted him to find out from the invitation. That she thought somehow it would hurt less finding out from the love of his life instead of his sister or his friends. 

An invitation he never received because he didn’t permanently stay at Tannyhill and Sarah lived with John B now. 

He looks at Sofia again and then back down. Silence fills the space between them. He feels like he’s going to cry. All he’s been doing since he found out about the wedding is crying. All he’s been doing since he ruined the best thing that ever happened to him is cry. 

“Do you think I’ll ever be able to love anyone else?” Sofia softens a little. 

“If you let yourself.” He looks at her, confused.

“You still think there’s hope, I’m here to tell you that there is none. She’s getting married. It’s over. It’s done.”

“Sof-” she interrupts him. 

“She’s happy.” He wants to scream that he doesn’t care. That she should be happy with him. He wants to yell at Sofia, at his sister, at the universe that after all these years he’s still in love with her and he deserves to be happy too. 

But the bigger, more mature part of him tells him to let go, to finally move on, to let her be happy because he loves her and she deserves that after all he did to hurt her. 

He wants to go back in time and shake that stupid scared little boy and tell him that throwing this relationship away is not worth it. It’s not worth the pain it’ll cause her. The pain that it’ll cause him for years to come. He hates him. 

How could he have been so stupid? Didn’t he know that she would never forgive him and he would lose everything that he ever cared about?

“Come tomorrow.” He scoffs. 

“You know I can’t.” He blinks away the tears threatening to spill over.

“Where will you be?”

“Here. Tannyhill, the condo, wherever the alcohol is.”

‘“No drugs?” There’s a concern in her voice. Scared that he’ll go back to using. He’s been clean for six years. He’s fine.

“No. Not since-” He doesn’t say it. Sofia fills in the blanks. 

“Since Kie.” he nods. 

“Is she-” he pauses, swallowing the lump in his throat, “is she invited?”

“Absolutely not. She was always on the blacklist.”

Kiara’s not invited to the wedding.

 She didn’t invite Kie to the wedding? She invited him but not her? That had to mean something, right? Why wouldn’t she invite Kie but invite him? Does that mean she forgives him? 

She forgave him and not Kiara. 

She forgave him.

He grabs his wallet and slaps a hundred on the bar top. He moves so fast that the chair he’s sitting on makes the most awful noise as it scratches the floor, drawing the attention of the lingering patrons.

“What’s that face? What are you doing?” Sofia follows, hot on his heels.

“Going home.” Maybe this is his drunk brain or maybe it’s the fact that his heart still beats for her. 

He’s pacing outside her parent’s house. Trying to find the right words to say. Trying to figure out if he’s out of his mind for being here. 

He swings his body in the direction of the door as it opens. 

“What are you doing here? You woke my parents up.”

“I needed to see you.”

“Rafe, it’s 3 am. I have to be up early. My parents are pissed. Please just go.”

“I know. Can you give me 5 minutes?”  She looks beautiful. Her face illuminated by the hue of the Moon. She’s in a sweater and tiny shorts that barely peek out from underneath it. Her hair’s flowing freely, a little messy but framing her face perfectly. 

He wishes she had to be up early for him tomorrow. He wants to be the one that she walks towards and the one she spends the rest of her life with.

“Please.” His voice cracks. 

She motions for him to go ahead. 

“Ever since I was 13 I have loved you. The day we got together was the happiest day of my life. I have never known love like what we had. Not before you and not after you. I was a stupid kid. I was so scared and overwhelmed I didn’t know how to deal with all my feelings. I could stand here and give you excuses like what my dad said or how I was drugged up but the truth is that I betrayed you. I hurt you and I will never forgive myself for it.” His eyes never leave hers. He wants her to know that he means every word.

“I could also stand here and tell you how much I’ve changed but I’m sure you wouldn’t believe me because what I’m doing is selfish and so reminiscent of who I used to be.” She smiles a little at that and it eases his nerves. 

“I love you. I always will.” His voice cracks again, this time he doesn’t try to hide it. 

She’s looking at him, her lips slightly parted. She’s playing with her engagement ring and her eyes are glossy. 

“Please don’t marry him.”

[katsu28]

can i please request this “ [ LAP ] sender pulls receiver into their lap” this with JJ?

please forgive for how long it took me to get to this, dear anon :')

jj maybank x reader, mentions of alcohol, 1.5k

“Attention, attention, this is your driver speaking, politely requesting that Y/N L/N get her ass in this van, effective immediately. Over.” John B had his hands cupped over his mouth as he slowed the Twinkie to a stop along the sidewalk you were making your way down, shit-eating grin very present on his face as he leaned across to the passenger side to catch your reaction. 

“If that was polite, I’d hate to see what impolite looks like.” 

“That would be just a good old fashioned kidnapping.” He replied, shrugging. 

You stopped, turned to face the boy full on with your hands on your hips. “Right, because that’s never happened before.” 

“That wasn’t kidnapping, that was a very enthusiastic welcome home party!” chimed in JJ from somewhere in the back, and you could imagine the smile that matched John B’s gracing his lips too. 

“You guys grabbed me right out of my room!” 

“Specificities don’t matter.” John B rolled his eyes, motioning for you to get in the van quickly. 

“They do when you put a towel over my head.” You moved to open the passenger door since the seat was empty, but he swatted your hand through the open window before you could. “Ow, what the fuck?” 

“Sarah’s sitting in the front.” 

“Sarah’s not even here yet.” 

“I know, but we’re getting her next and I promised she wouldn’t have to sit in the back again since JJ yacked all over her shoes after the last bonfire.” 

JJ’s voice sounded out again, this time more exasperated than anything. “I told you, I got carsick from your driving! And I already apologized, so I really don’t see what the problem is.” 

“Please, Y/N?” John B pleaded, clasping his hands together. 

“Fine.” You rolled your eyes, pulling open the back door with a huff. The first thing you noticed was the giant keg occupying the seat you were planning on sitting in. The second was JJ, Kie, and Pope all crammed into the remaining space like sardines in a can, offering you identical sheepish smiles. “I…where am I supposed to sit?” 

“I’m sure JJ won’t mind if you sit with him. Right, J?” 

It was a ploy, you were sure of it. Take advantage of your crush on JJ Maybank by forcing you into the smallest space possible, see what happens. Your friends were smart, but not as smooth as they thought they were being. 

Your eyes flicked to the blond boy, who merely grinned, scooting over and patting the open space next to him. “Come on in, seat buddy.” 

You aimed a small smile at him as you stepped up into the cramped van, literally climbing over everyone else to squeeze yourself in next to him. Your thigh pressed against JJ’s as you settled in the half seat he gave you, both your elbows fighting for the space you barely had. 

It was the most awkward of dances, trying to sit comfortably in one seat. His arm knocked into your head when you tried to lean back against the seat, you ended up kicking him trying to cross one leg over the other; nothing seemed to be working no matter what you both tried. You could tell Kie was trying not to crack up watching you and JJ fumble around like idiots, but she kept her cool.  

“Hold on. Why don’t you just—” JJ pulled you onto his lap smoothly, arms wrapping loosely around your waist in one fluid motion before you could even react. “There. More space for everyone.” 

“Uh, yeah—thanks, J.” You blurted, catching Kie’s now wide eyed gaze with one of your own. Even Pope’s eyebrows raised in surprise, but JJ stayed clueless, tapping out a mindless pattern atop your thighs as John B pulled back out onto the road. 

He even helped you out of the van when you finally got to the boneyard, guiding you with a hand on the small of your back until your feet were planted firmly in the gravel before winking at you and going to help the boys unload the keg. 

“I told you he liked you!” Kie hissed, materializing at your side. You clamped a hand over her mouth, checking to see that the boys hadn’t heard anything before yanking her a good distance down the beach. “Okay, that was uncalled for.” 

“Sorry, I just—I don’t want JJ to know about how I feel.” 

“Why not?” 

“Because it’s embarrassing? Because it would ruin our friendship? Because he doesn’t feel the same way? Pick a reason, Kie!” You shot back, counting them off on your fingers. 

“I’m telling you, he feels the same way. He pulled you onto his freaking lap, bitch! He winked at you! D’you need your eyes checked or something, or are you just that stubborn?” 

“No. No, I’m not gonna chance it.” 

“Will you just live a little?” 

“Drop it, Kie.” 

“But—” 

“It’s not gonna happen!” 

“What’s not gonna happen?” JJ chimed in, looking between you and Kie with an arched brow. 

“Nothing.” You said quickly, offering him what you hoped wasn’t too forced of a smile. If JJ noticed anything out of the ordinary, he didn’t say anything, instead just nodding and going to catch up with John B. You turned back to Kie, holding your hand out for her to take. “M’sorry for snapping at you. It’s just…complicated. I love you?” 

“Love you too.” She sighed, linking her fingers through yours. “C’mon, let’s get a drink and forget about all this.” You obliged, happy to knock a few drinks back to get a certain someone to stop running circles in your mind for once. 

You didn’t see JJ until much later in the night, after the sun had sunk below the horizon and the bonfire blazed bright in the darkness. 

“Hey.” His voice was soft in your ear, causing you to shiver involuntarily at his sudden close proximity. You echoed his greeting, hoping your voice wasn’t as breathless as you felt. “Can we talk? Somewhere quieter maybe?” 

You nodded, and he led you down the beach a little ways away. Not too far away from the crowd, but far enough so you could talk without having to yell over the noise. JJ’s palm on the small of your back was enough to burn a hole through the fabric of your top, radiating warmth through your body despite the cool breeze coming off the ocean. 

“Right. So, there’s something I’ve been meaning to talk to you about, and I really think I need to tell you before I explode. And uh, you can totally tell me to fuck off if I’ve read the situation all wrong.” He snatched the hat off his head, raking his fingers through his hair a few times before putting it back on. You’d come to learn that it was something he did any time he was nervous. 

“Everything okay, J?” 

“Yeah. Yeah, no, I’m good.” He breathed, forcing out a chuckle. “I’m just—I’m just gonna come out and say it then. I’m into you. Like, a lot. And I know we have the whole ‘no Pogue on Pogue macking’ thing, so I get it if you don’t wanna make things weird—like, that’s cool, I just…felt like I needed to tell you.” 

You were stunned beyond words. JJ felt the same way about you that you did about him. He loved you back. 

JJ must’ve taken your silence as some sort of rejection because he forced out a hollow chuckle, linking his fingers behind his head, wandering a few paces away. He looked like he wanted to kick himself. “God, I’m…I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to—this was a shitty idea and I’m just gonna go now so I don’t embarrass myself any more.”

He moved to walk past you back towards the bonfire, but you caught him by the arm before he could, surging forward and pressing your lips against his firmly. 

If he was surprised he did a great job at hiding it, because the way he kissed you back felt like he’d been waiting for this moment his whole life. Much like most of the things JJ did, he put his everything into kissing you, cupping your face in his hands almost like it was second nature to hold you like he was. 

As cliche as it sounded, it didn’t feel like a first kiss with him. It felt like you were attuned to each other, already subconsciously knowing what to do even though you’d never dared do it before. 

JJ, albeit hesitantly, was the one to break away first, barely an inch between the two of you as his tongue darted out to wet his lips before daring to speak. “But…the rule?” 

“When have you ever followed the rules, Maybank?” You tilted your head at him, raising an eyebrow in challenge. JJ held your gaze steady while his fingers danced a path down your arm. 

“Never.” 

“Then why start now?” 

JJ perked up at your words, lips quirking into that damn troublemaker’s grin that endeared you to no end. “Yeah?” 

“Yeah.” 

“Okay then. Cool.” 

“Cool.” 

Neither of you needed to put into words what you were going to be from now on, because it didn’t have to be said for it to be something. You knew. JJ knew. And when everyone else saw JJ’s arm slung around your shoulders the whole night, the way you looked at each other like two crazy kids in love, they knew too.

follow @katsu-library to be notified when i post new fics :)

[auspicioustidings]

Ae Fond Kiss - Part 8 (Final)

A Red, Red Rose

Summary: A bombshell is dropped and you look to the future. Words: 2k TWs: mention of miscarriage

So I've lost interest in this fic hence why we have a rushed wrap up because I didn't just want to abandon it :') All parts - 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8

“We gonna do this forever then Johnny?”

It was a form of torture Simon was sure, them having lunch together once a week every week and making small talk. He missed his best friend. He missed being able to say something outrageous and knowing Johnny would call him a sick bastard and then immediately try to outdo him.

“Eat lunch?” Johnny replied a little miserably, shuffling pasta about his plate.

“Johnny…”

“What dae ye want me tae say LT?”

“Not your LT anymore, retired remember? And Price told me about your promotion.”

Captain John MacTavish did have a nice ring to it, and Soap had more than earned the stripes. In another world he’d have grinned at Ghost, smug as anything and making some comment about being able to order him around now. But instead he frowned and Simon hated it. 

“Talk to me for Christ sake!”

“I cannae! Ye want me tae tell ye how much I miss your wife? How it kills me that she’ll never forgive me and that she’s right about it?”

“Johnny…”

“Or were ye hoping tae hear that I dinnae even regret Las Almas? It’s ruined everything, but I’ve loved you since I broke my fingers on that stupid bloody mask and I didnae even realise until we nearly fucking died! Ignored it even when I did, had 9 years tae think about how either way I was breaking my own heart because it decided it loved two different people!”

Fuck. He was crying. Johnny was crying. And Simon was caught between wanting to kiss him or kill him. He had never expected to be loved back was the thing. He did something unbearably selfish on the understanding it was all one sided, that the fuck was just the adrenaline from thinking they were going to die and they’d forget it ever happened. And then everything had went to shit and he had fallen in love with Johnny’s widow. He’d already lost one person he loved because he was too scared to admit it, he just couldn’t do it again,  selfish asshole that he was. 

“You should regret it. You… we hurt her. Hurt her so bad that we might lose her.”

“Aye. I deserve tae lose her though, never deserved tae have her in the first place anyway. I just caught you in the crossfire of my sins.”

“Who the fuck are you?” Simon said with full derision.

This has gone on long enough. So what? Everyone was just supposed to be miserable forever? They were supposed to just lay down and take it? Johnny looked at him, hurt and confused. 

“I watched you fight every break up. You fought tooth and fucking nail to make it work. When you fucked up you made it up to her. When she fucked up you forgave her. And what? Now that Johnny is dead? Either you still love her and are willing to fight to get her back, or any part of the man I loved died in Russia.”

“You’ve lost yer fucking mind Si, she’s your wife!”

Simon stood, determined.

“And our wife needs to remember who she belongs to and who belongs to her.”

As he started marching off Johnny near choked and scrambled to follow.

“Ye cannae be serious! Leave her be Si! Ye cannae just barge in and-and-”

“And tell her she’ll try forgive us because we’ll spend the rest of our lives making it up to her? That we can start right now by showing her how well you can follow orders and how well I can give them for her benefit? I bloody well can and I’m bloody well going to. Either you’re with me or you can stay and mope.”

“...aye sir.”

–

Once upon a time Joey being at a sleepover was exciting, it meant some much needed alone time with your husband. Now though? The house felt cold, empty. You considered asking Gaz and Price’s partner if they’d come round to hang out, but it felt so messy when they were just as much Simon’s friend as they were yours. It would somehow make you miss him more. 

Everytime he was at the house briefly and you made polite conversation you wanted to cry. You had a few times, only after he was gone of course. That big fucking lummox. You wanted to strangle him, but then again that wasn’t exactly new. And you wanted rhubarb and sugar. Oh you could murder some rhubarb dipped in sugar like your parents used to give you as a kid. 

The door went just as you finished pouring a large glass of wine. Simon stood looking like he sometimes did when you were about to get absolutely ruined in bed and you swore your heart nearly stopped. Johnny was by his side, pupils blown with a blush crawling up his neck as if he somehow knew exactly what images just popped into your mind. Oh. Oh you suddenly wanted them so badly it hurt. 

And damn them for knowing you so well, for being able to fucking tell. Simon’s lips were on yours as he walked into the house, you being led backwards. You were clawing at his shirt as he squeezed your ass until you bumped into the kitchen island and realised how insane this was, pulling away to try find Johnny. He had followed, was swallowing thickly as Simon started to kiss and nip a path down your neck. This was insane. This was certifiably mental. You could not… have a threesome? Have a threesome with your husband and your husband who had fucked each other ten years ago on a mission before one faked his damn death. 

“W-what are you doing? We can’t…” you mumbled, trying to get your head on straight since currently your brain seemed to reside between your legs.

“Tell me what you need princess. Want me on my knees begging against your pussy? Want Johnny to fly you to Hawaii and keep you in the lap of luxury for a month? Want us to be here every single day in the garden announcing to the neighbours that we deserve a fucking whipping for how badly we fucked everything up with the gorgeous mother of our child?”

Christ almighty. So much for Simon being the unemotional and ineloquent one. You couldn’t handle this. You couldn’t handle how much you wanted to just give in. He made it sound so easy, like you could have them both, like they would give you whatever you wanted just to stay by your side despite what they’d done. He was going to his knees in front of you.

“Rhubarb!”

The room froze for a moment as Simon hit the ground with his knees and just stared at you.

“...is that, uh, a safeword?” Johnny asked, seemingly surprised out of the slack jawed, dazed state he seemed to have been in. 

“No. I mean I… rhubarb. You asked what I needed. Rhubarb and sugar, but we have sugar in the cupboard so… just the rhubarb.”

“...ok, rhubarb. We can do rhubarb” Simon said after a moment, taking it in his stride as he snuck a peck to your stomach where his head currently was and then stood. 

If they just left and went to the shops maybe you could… you didn’t know. Maybe you could hurriedly touch yourself to get rid of the ache between your legs and then neck your wine to get rid of the one in your chest. Simon turned and nodded to Johnny and took a few steps, so you picked up the glass of wine to calm yourself down only for Johnny to pluck it out of your hands.

“Unless you’ve suddenly developed a taste for red wine I’d appreciate that back” you snapped at him.

“And since you’ve suddenly developed a taste for rhubarb I’m naw giving it tae ye.”

“MacTavish” Simon scolded, sure Johnny was about to ruin what he was hoping was some reconciliation here.

“That’s not…” you started before you went pale. 

“How ye been feeling recently hen?”

Oh no. Not now. You just assumed you felt sick because of the stress. But then the take away food had seemed so off despite you usually loving it. You kept having to throw up. You were lethargic. And now you needed rhubarb and sugar, something you had only craved twice in your adult life, the most recent being over a decade ago. The last time you were pregnant. 

“What’s going on?” Simon asked, not liking at all how your face just fell as he strode back to you. “What did you do Johnny? It’s ok sweetheart, I’m sorry we just showed up, seemed like a good idea at the time. Just missed you so much.”

The universe had a sick sense of humour. Over a year of trying for a baby with this man. 18 fucking months. And you get pregnant right before your other husband comes back from the dead, the one it turns out your current husband has slept with behind your back? This could not be happening, but all the signs were there. When had you last had a period? You hadn’t even noticed that you were late with everything going on. 

You tried to do the maths in your head. It had been a few months since Johnny had come back, so you were at the very least that far along. 8 weeks. You had miscarried at 10. Maybe you were further along, maybe you were past the worst of the danger. God you prayed you were past the worst of the danger. 

“Si, gie her some room would ye? We’re right here, if ye want us tae be. It’s up to you, you dinnae have tae…” Johnny said, struggling to get out the words.

There was no thought in your mind that you would get rid of this baby, but the fact that he was putting that option out there when he himself had always been so desperate for a big family was something you appreciated more than you could say. Goddamnit, he still loved you. 9 years away and he still bloody loved you. Would still do whatever it took for you to be happy. Even if in that case this meant not having another baby.

How strange that you thought of this baby as his. How strange that you just as strongly thought of it as Simon’s. If the past few months had shown you anything it was that you could look after a child between the three of you, so it wasn’t like they had to be with you to do it. Even if you’d like them to be. Despite it all, you’d really fucking like them to be.

“Princess?”

You took a deep breath and smiled softly at Simon who was looking increasingly alarmed. You caressed his face and it felt like relief to touch him. 

“Maybe we can go a trip to the doctor on the way for the rhubarb Casper. Think we might be pregnant.”

–

A very healthy baby girl with an incredibly healthy set of lungs. You sang to her, love like A Red, Red Rose for your little Rose. You bawled your eyes out when Joey refused to turn down his hearing aids even when she was screaming at the top of her lungs because that was his baby sister and he would never not want to hear her. It was a good thing you could all sign with the way she drowned you all out, even Johnny as clumsy as his hands were with it had dedicated himself to learning since he had got home. 

You were fairly certain your little Rose was making Price broody with Gaz and their partner finding their grumpy old man losing his mind over a chubby baby adorable. Although there was a good chance Price wasn’t making any babies with how you had planted your foot in his groin when he finally came out of hiding. 

You were still figuring things out, but right now? Right now you were happy. You had two perfect children by two imperfect husbands. It was up in the air what your family was going to look like in the future. Did you want to forgive them? Even if you did, would you be friends and co-parents or something more?

That you hadn’t quite decided yet. But you were determined that whatever the future held for you, it was going to be a future full of love and laughter.

[itwasntimethatdidit40]

Do think I’m your babygirl? I think the fuck not.

Pairing/au: Joel Miller x afab!reader, no outbreak

Words count: 4095

Rating: +18, NSFW, minors please don’t interact

Warnings/Tags: pov second person, smut with very little plot, angst, casual sex, no use of y/n, reader is described having breasts and vagina and wearing a dress and heels, no other description of her is given, reader’s thoughts in italics, mention of infidelity, swearing, pet names (babygirl, good boy, baby, princess), reader is bad at feelings (she has her reasons though), soft!Joel, brief mention of Sarah, a lot of kissing, fingering (f receiving), oral (m receiving), unprotected p in v (reader is on the pill but still, do better irl, please!), reverse cowgirl, balls grabbing, a little of bit of scolding during sex 😈, plot twist, neck kissing, nipples play, teasing… I think it’s all? If I realize I forgot something I'll add it right away.

A/N: First of all, if you happened to read something similar but badly written on AO3 don't worry, it's still me, no one stole anything from me and I didn't steal anything from anyone lol

I've been wanting to rewrite this for a long time and I think I'm pretty happy with how it came out this time. I really hope you like it too. As always, English is not my first language, I don't have beta and I finished writing it last night at 3am (ops, I did it again!), so please forgive me if you find any mistakes.

To anyone reading this, thank you for your time! I added a brief A/N at the end, see you there!

“Should we get out of here?” he whispers in your ear and you nod “where?”

“My house”

You give him a quick kiss on the lips agreeing “okay”.

You just met him but he’s the most handsome man to ever approach you in a bar so you don’t care.

You’ve already been the good girl, the one to introduce to someone’s parents, the one who’s always kind and modest, who never says a word too much and does everything in her power to make her man happy.

Turns out it didn’t do you any good.

You were engaged, a year ago.

You and Mark had the whole plan.

The wedding, a house with a white picket fence, a nice yard, a dog, a big family.

It was all decided, until you found out he was cheating on you with one of his coworkers.

All those “babygirl, I’m going to be late”, “babygirl, don’t wait for me for dinner, that asshole of my boss gave me a ton more paperwork to deal with”, “babygirl, tell John I’m sorry I couldn’t come to his party today but I still have a million things to do here at the office”, “I miss you, I wish I didn’t have to work so much” texts…all bullshit.

One day you came home early from a work trip and found him on the couch of the house you had rented and where you had lived together for two years with his dick stuck in his colleague’s pussy.

What a piece of shit.

You spent four years of your life with him and yet it felt like you had never really known him. You wondered how he had managed to lie so well, for so long, without even flinching.

You cried, you screamed as he made up some lame excuse to justify himself, you wondered how you had wasted all those years with someone like that. How come you hadn't noticed before how fake and manipulative he was? How come you hadn't noticed that every time you argued he tried to make you feel guilty even though he was the one who was completely in the wrong?

Oh yeah, you were in love. Blind, dazed, completely drunk with love.

Love that chews you up and spits you out.

What a huge scam.

Never again, you thought.

Mark could have gone to hell with his colleague, you were done.

You would no longer let feelings get the better of you.

Sure, men were still nice. When they were quiet and fucked you good and then went back home, no strings attached.

He says his name is Joel.

You put a finger over his mouth to silence him when he tries to add his last name. “I don’t need it,” you tell him.

“Whatever you say, beautiful,” he replies.

His voice is definitely a plus. Deep, husky, charming. It goes straight to your cunt.

Even his beard brushing your cheek as he speaks in your ear to make himself heard over the chaos of the bar isn’t bad at all.

A small talk later you decide he is the perfect one night stand.

He’s wearing a pair of dark jeans and a gray T-shirt with a plaid shirt over it.

His hand is wrapped around your waist in a delicious way, just above your hip. Big, expert hand. His brown eyes are staring at you, intense and piercing. Chocolate eyes, and you've always liked chocolate.

His plushy lips curve into a smirk when you say “let’s go cowboy, it’s time to show me what you got”

He chuckles, reaching down and squeezing your butt.

“After you, princess”

You roll your eyes at the pet name but he’s too gorgeous to back down.

He walks you to his pick up truck, in the parking lot.

He drives to a nice neighborhood, full of small houses with well-kept yards and safe streets where you imagine kids riding bikes and playing softball. The contrast between him and what’s around you makes you laugh. Joel doesn’t seem like a friendly neighbor, a candidate for trick-or-treating on Halloween, or the life of the block parties. He seems distant, a man of few words, a grouch. Which is perfect as far as you are concerned. You had stopped caring about men’s chatter.

When you were talking at the bar you noticed that his hands are calloused, rough, you were about to ask him what job he did but you decided you weren't interested.

Who cares, this guy will be out of my life after tonight.

You look at his profile in the truck, his expression when you put your hand on his thigh while he’s driving, his lips that twitch slightly, his Adam’s apple that jump in his throat, his hand that grips the steering wheel a little tighter. Really, truly, delicious.

You like him. His thick raven hair with just a few streaks of gray, his high forehead, his aquiline nose, his strong jaw. Your best friend sent you a tiktok a while ago about her favorite actor with a little song that said Girl dinner playing in the background. Watching Joel in the car you think of that. Except he isn’t just dinner but a six-course meal at a fancy restaurant.

By now your opinion of men is that they are all assholes and cheaters and the guys you met after Mark only supported that theory.

When you met someone cute your new philosophy was legs open, heart closed.

You wouldn't have opened your heart for Joel, but your legs yes, very willingly.

He parks in front of a cute little house, with a rose bush climbing up a trellis to one side and an impeccable lawn.

A small porch with a rocking chair and pots of geraniums complete the picture. “Jesus,” you think “This guy and his house have nothing to do with each other”

Joel has a worn-out, 90s rock star look in a flannel shirt and combat boots, a guy like him could have lived in a shitty loft with a mattress on the floor and wooden crates for nightstands.

“Here we are, princess” he says. He got out of the pick up and come to open the door for you.

“Quaint neighborhood,” you observe.

“See, I’m unmarried but I have a daughter” You stop him right away. “Nah, too much information.”

He has a daughter. You didn’t expect that either. And you don’t want to know, you don’t want to know a damn thing about him other than how good he fucks.

“Okay” he mutters, shrugging. He seems a little confused by all your restrictions but it is essential for you to keep your distance.

Knowing this already bothers you, you should have taken him to some motel instead of his house. He has a daughter, so he's a responsible family man? A guy who never does things like pick up a stranger in a bar? What if he hasn't gotten laid since Bush was president?

You don’t have time to waste on foreplay and cuddles, he’s not the “let’s talk first” type, is he? He doesn't seem like it but at this point you're not sure of anything anymore.

You enter his house and look around. It's a nice place, comfortable, simply furnished, there's too much brown around for your taste but it's okay.

You don't have a chance to process the photos hanging on the wall and scattered around on the tables and bookshelves before he pins you against the wall and kisses you.

It's a hungry, sloppy, passionate kiss, his lips moving over yours as if he wanted to devour you in one bite.

“Great job” you think, at least you were right about something, he is a man who doesn't waste time on ceremony.

His tongue slides warm into your mouth and it tastes like whiskey, his hands run over your body, caressing you.

First the neck, tightening slightly against your throat, then on your shoulders where he slides the straps of your dress. Then on your chest, to pull down the fabric just enough to uncover your bra. He cups one of your breast with his hand, squeezing it. He pulls down the bra and uncovers your already hard nipples. He leaves a trail of kisses and small bites on your jaw and all the way down the column of your neck, until he reaches your chest taking one of your buds into his mouth, you feel the warmth of his tongue and lips, licking greedily at it and then sucking it slowly, his beard tickling on your skin.

Fuck, this guy knows what he's doing.


You mentally apologize to him for doubting it, as you throw away your heels, kicking them to the floor.

You moan loudly as his heavy hand lifts the hem of your dress and covers your entire pussy. He presses hard on your clit and your body tenses like a violin string, you arch your back seeking more friction. He places his other hand on your hip, caging you between him and the wall. He continues to kiss you, while he dip in your slit through the now completely soggy fabric.

He grunts in your ear “so fucking great mmm pussy is dripping on my floor, isn’t she?” 
You don't even have the energy to cringe about him using pronouns for your cunt as he pulls your panties aside and dip two fingers into your slit, moving up towards your clit, rubbing it.

His eyes are settled in yours, you feel hypnotized by his gaze, so overwhelming and beautiful. It pierces you to the wall. 
His fingers stroke your clit in small circles, slowly and then faster, applying pressure every now and then. His smile widens as he watches you needily and hotly arch into his palm.

“Yeah, you like that, huh?”
You desperately clench around his thick fingers when he slides his index and middle into your hole. When he begins to slowly sink inside you you feel like you can’t hold his gaze anymore, it’s almost like he’s digging into your soul, your head crush into the crook of his neck and your arm tightens around his shoulders. 
Your brain is completely clouded with pleasure and its scent, wood and leather with a fresh clean undertone. He smells so good. It’s intoxicating.

Your dress is bunched up around your waist, just enough to allow his hands to feast on you.
His fingers keeps getting in and out of you reaching your most sensitive spot while his other hand goes back on your tit, playing with one of your nipples, twisting and gently pulling it between his fingers. 
You can no longer hold back your whines, they mix with his hoarse grunts, filling the air in the room.
“Fuck, it feels so good” you wail and he grumbles “yeah…such a nice cunt, fuck, so tight” 
He pumps even harder into you, scissoring a bit, hitting your g-spot again and again, his thumb on your clit and you feel your peak building up from your tummy and raising hot into your chest, you’re gasping for air as he bites in the tender skin of your neck and lowers his mouth back on your nipple. 
“mmm I would never stop sucking your tits, God, they are so - fuck” His voice dies in his throat as you clench hard around his fingers whining “don’t stop please don’t stop oh fuck sogoodsogoodsogoodsogood”, you sound almost like you’re on the verge of crying. 
He gently urges you “let go, gorgeous, give it to me, drench my fucking fingers” 
And you come, as much as you hate being told what to do he’s having the best of you. It’s basically the only moment in which you give yourself the chance to get lost, when your climax starts shuttering all over your body, wave after wave, washing away your control over yourself. 
He holds you down as your body shakes uncontrollably.

His mouth leaves small kisses on your sweaty skin, cradling you through your orgasm along with his hands that gently cup your ass, squeezing it. You moan against his neck, clinging to his flannel shirt.

His fingers slide out of you and he brings them to your mouth, he runs them over your lower lip, wetting it with your pleasure and then gliding them over your tongue to his knuckles, you lick them greedily under his satisfied gaze.

You stay hugged against the wall for a while, not saying anything, just breathing on each other's skin.

“Are you okay?” he asks softly when he feels your breathing return to normal. “I’ve never felt better.” You answer, finally looking into his eyes again and running a hand through his hair, ruffling it.

He's cute, too cute, his eyes look at you sweetly and he caresses your cheek, brushing his thumb on your skin.

This is no good, this is no good at all, you think.

You have to do something before you make the terrible mistake of melting like ice cream in the sun for this man. You can't afford that. So you take matters into your own hands.

You push him against the wall in turn and his wide eyes tell you he wasn't expecting it.

You give him a smile as you lower your hand to his pants, feeling him hard under your touch. He’s big. Much bigger than you expected even though you just got a preview of him pressing against your thigh as he finger-fucked you.

Your hands quickly fumble with his jeans, unbuttoning them. You make room in his underwear to reach his cock. Joel grumbles “oh fuck, yes”

“Take off your clothes” you order. Joel undresses in a second, throwing his clothes and boots on the floor. You lick your lips at the sight of his bulging boxers. You move back against him, massaging him from above the fabric, feeling a large stain spreading across the front. He’s dripping profusely, which makes you even more hungry and eager to try him.

You smile at him as you lower yourself to your knees, bringing his boxers down with you.

His cock springs free right before your eyes, hard, uncut, and impossibly perfect. Your hand slides over the line of hair leading to his crotch, slightly beaded with sweat, and wraps around his base. He doesn’t stop staring at you, enraptured.

Your hand moves up and down his length, lingering at the tip, collecting his precum and spreading it out.

You feel your saliva building up in your mouth and as much as it annoys you to admit it your clit twitch, you can’t wait to taste it. Your mind is fighting against this guy, but your body knows exactly what it wants and doesn’t care if it gets carried away.

You place your tongue on the tip, swirling it around and then sliding it flat down his shaft, over his throbbing, engorged vein, down to where your hand encircles him.

You hear him grunt and your mouth twists involuntarily into a smirk.

His musky flavor coats your tongue as you continue to work his length, you look up and there he is, hair tousled, eyebrows furrowed, mouth agape, eyes like ebony that sparkle with lust, beautiful as a painting. He almost hurts your eyes. You squeeze them shut, concentrating only on the heat in your mouth and your movements on his red and swollen tip.

You slurp greedily increasing the pace as you feel him throbbing more and more intensely.

You are enjoying the silence filled only by the sound of your obscene lapping and his hoarse moans when he decides to speak.

“Fuck, babygirl, you’re incredible”

Your blood runs cold, it’s like an unconditioned reflex you can’t escape. An uncontrolled anger rises from the pit of your stomach, you stop and let it out through your mouth. His face becomes confused, you take a deep breath to try to calm the fire that burns inside you and ask him sharply: “what did you call me?”

Mark's face materialized before your eyes, vivid as it hadn't been in a long time. It’s terrible.

He hesitates for a moment before saying “babygirl” in a garbled whisper.

“Don’t ever do that again” you tell him in a firm voice before moving closer to his cock and he mutters “no one has ever complained”

You stop again “It gives me the ick. So if you want me to continue I suggest you stop nagging like a child. Otherwise I can always walk out that door and let you finish with your hand”

“It’s just a pet name” he says, rolling his eyes, like it were no big deal, as if it didn't mean you were going back to where you started, to when you were too blind to realize how much of a liar your fiancé was, to when your heart was in pieces.

He can’t know, that’s true, so you haven’t completely blurted out. But that annoyance still rises in your throat. And you can’t cry, you really can’t. So sarcasm creeps in. “You think I’m a little girl? A princess who needs saving? Fucking Snow White?”

His cock is still standing between you two, waiting for attention. You might laugh at the situation, maybe make a joke about how well he holds his erection, but you're not really in the mood.

His Adam's apple moves in his throat, he gulps air before answering: “no, but…I mean, it’s just a word”

You shrug, looking at him with reproach and resignation at the same time, and try to answer with all the nonchalance you can muster. “Okay. It will mean that pornhub will take care of you, I don’t give a damn” If he can’t compromise then he’s not worth your time, just like every other man.

You start to get up and he stops you, a slight panic in his eyes “oh no, come on, don’t be like that. Ok, ok, I won’t say it again”

You lower yourself again and are about to start over in silence when it occurs to you to teasing him a little, just a little and only because he ruined the moment for you. He did it unintentionally but still. You don't mind the rough play and you think this big guy in front of you can take it.
“Let's try” you think “I can always stop”

It’s not like you’re going to hurt him badly, just teasing.

So you look him in the eyes with all the candor you can, taking one of his balls in your hand. You squeeze it and say “Are you going to be a good boy? Are you going to shut the fuck up for me?” 
“Yes” he murmurs. 
“I’m not your fucking babygirl, we clear?” 
“Yes” 
“Say it.”
“You’re not my babygirl” he whispers.
You squeeze hard on his ball, seeing his lower lip twitching with pleasure, his eyes dark with lust.
Yeah, he likes that, it’s clearly painted all over his face.
“Louder”
“You’re not my babygirl” his voice breaking in the attempt as you put your mouth on his ball sucking hard on it.
You let go with a satisfied smile “Perfect”
You take his shaft back into your mouth, squeezing the other ball gently with your hand and he leans against the wall, eyes shut and whimpering.
It’s so good to hear him like that, your clit is throbbing between your leg and your arousal is dripping all over your inner thighs.
You stop when you feel him on the edge, another few licks on his red and angry tip would be enough to send him over but you’re craving him into your cunt. And also, you like seeing him all pent up and needy for you.

He’s basically babbling at this point, begging you and swearing, eyes desperate for a release, all his body tense and covered in a light layer of sweat.

He’s totally gorgeous and you’re not done yet.

“Don’t cry baby, I will give you what you want” you coo, your lips curved into a smirk.

You get up and take his hand, guiding him on the couch in his living room.

It’s a nice brown leather couch, there is a little hollow in one of the pillows and you imagine that is where he usually sits to watch tv. This is also unnecessary information that makes him much more human and cute than you would like.

You can see him on Sundays, sprawled out there, his feet up on the coffee table placed in front, a beer in his hand, watching football.

No, that’s too much.

You sit him down in the center, caressing his cheek. You pinch one of his nipples and he lets out a groan. You take off the dress that at this point is practically dangling uselessly from your waist, your now soaked panties and your bra which he took care of pulling down earlier making it useless as well.

You’re finally completely naked before his eyes.

You throw everything aside on the floor, feeling incredibly vulnerable but trying not to show it.

Joel is silent but you can see his eyes feasting on your body, lusting over every curve before settling on your pussy that glistens with your juices.

You move closer and lean him against the back of the couch and sit on him, holding his cock with one hand and gently pushing it into your hole. You are incredibly wet but you proceed with caution anyway, he is too big to take in one thrust.

He pants beneath you, lacing his hands on your hips and guiding you gently. You can't see his eyes anymore, which is good for you, he's already made you feel exposed enough. It’s better this way, you can take what you want from his body without letting him affect you too much.

When you are fully seated on him you start to move, bouncing on his thighs, swinging your hips, he tries to keep up with your pace, thrusting into you as deep as he can, sinking into your wetness.

One of his hands moves to one of your breasts, cupping it and squeezing it, brushing your nipple with his palm and then taking it between his fingers.

You lean forward slightly to let him reach that soft spot inside you that always makes you see stars. Your ears are filled with his moans, the sound you like to hear when a man fucks you.

Nothing more than his natural, delirious, desire-filled sounds.

You throw your head on his shoulder and he kisses you, you cry into his mouth as you feel his hand move from your breast to your clit and begin to rub it furiously.

His tongue is warm and delicious in your mouth, a small trickle of saliva runs down your chin as you try to chase it and dance with it.

He's at his peak now, you feel him pulsing hard inside you, his moans muffled on your lips.

“Come inside, I’m on the pill” you only manage to whisper.

His pubic hair tickles your ass as he slams into you repeatedly, until you feel long, hot streaks of his cum painting your walls.

You continue to rock on his hips, lacing one hand around his neck, kissing him, until everything gets confusing, blurry, overwhelming in a way you can't explain. You reach him in a state of bliss, sweaty and exhausted but never as satisfied as you are now.

You pull his cock out of you and sit on the couch, he is on your neck in an instant, leaving a trail of small hungry kisses as you both try to catch your breath. You close your eyes so as not to see his, probably softened and vulnerable, nothing more wrong than letting yourself be taken by the tenderness after sex.

After a while he gets up and disappears into the kitchen without saying anything. He returns with a glass of water and hands it to you. “Thank you,” you say, before quickly swallowing it to ease the dryness in your throat. You set it on the coffee table and stand up before he tries to say something stupid.

You gather your clothes, getting dressed as he watches you from the couch, you feel his eyes on you the whole time.

You lean in to give him a kiss and his hand on your hip feels like a silent request to stay.

You don't say anything, there's no need to say anything.

You walk out the door without looking back.

You're not a babygirl.

A/N: I personally don't mind being called "babygirl" and Joel could call me anything, really. LOL I just wanted to try something different, hope you all liked it. Thanks again for reading, comments and reblogs are very much appreciated ❤️

[of-a-chaotic-mind]

Against Instincts

Summary: Dean made a very serious mistake but much to his surprise, Reader forgives him & the two share a special moment.

TW/CW: Abuse (by Reader's father), Mention of Dean hitting Reader, Dean doubting himself, Mentions of injuries (bruises, welt, etc.), Angst Angst Angst, Dean Winchester x Reader

Requested?: No

Word Count: 1,979

A/N: Idek where this came from. It sorta spawned from me wishing Dean could show up & rescue me from my dog shit life (I'm not being abused I just have a lot of bullshit going on with my parents) & also just me feeling angsty as fuck. Anyway, I hope you enjoy the read. REQUESTS ARE OPEN! Much love to all!

(Y/N)’s POV 

    John Winchester was a hard ass at times but he was never cruel. I think that's why when his teenage son, Dean, returned from what was supposed to be a quick grocery store run with myself around the same age in tow claiming, "Her dad is a monster. We have to help her," he couldn't just ignore me & send me on my way. He visibly stowed his anger at Dean's tardiness & observed me. I’m sure he took note of the bruises scattered across the little bit of skin I had visible, some were old, some were new. He probably noticed the split lip paired with a blossoming black eye. Yet, he ushered me into the car with orders for Sam & Dean to stay put. 

    When he pulled into my driveway my face felt warn with embarrassment. From the outside, my house looked like no one had lived there in years. He walked me to the front door & knocked. When there was no response, he knocked again.  

    I looked up at him, “He’s probably asleep.” I opened the door & walked in. Inside, the house was spotless. When I entered, my father stirred on the couch & sat up.  

    He was very clearly drunk as he slurred his words, “Where the hell have you been, girl?” 

    I looked down at my shopping bags in my hands, “I went out to get milk & bread.” 

    My father rubbed his eyes, still having not noticed John standing just outside the front door, “Ain’t you got something to clean? Make yourself useful & get me beer first.” 

    I hid my face from John as I shuffled over to the fridge & retrieved a beer as instructed. I walked over to the couch & handed it to him, “What would you like me to clean?” 

    He looked up at me, furious, “Are you dumb? You should be able to figure out how to clean by now.” Dean was right, this man is a monster. I took a few steps back & looked around me for something to clean.  

    In the blink of an eye, my father jumped up from the couch & grabbed my arm, “Get your useless ass into the kitchen & wash those damn dishes,” he yelled before shoving me so hard toward the counter that I lost balance & hit the floor. John rushed over & offered his hand to me as my father lazily wandered over to the couch & plopped down. I gently took John’s hand & was hauled to my feet.  

    Suddenly, my father noticed John’s presence, “Who the hell are you?” John said nothing & simply pulled the me to the front door, placing himself between me & my father who was still plastered on the couch. Before the door shut behind us, I heard my father grumble, “Good riddance. She’s worthless anyway.” Tears rushed to my eyes but I fought them back as John pulled me toward the car. Once we were safely inside, he sped back toward the motel. 

    There was never a missing person’s report filed or police involvement. My father never bothered to look for me. People we encountered never questioned why I was with the Winchesters. It seemed everyone assumed I was their daughter & sister. Sure, life on the road was never easy & sometimes John was hard on me but I would much rather stay with the Winchesters than to go back to my father. At some point, I stopped only giving my first name when introducing myself & began introducing myself as (Y/N) Winchester. They were the closest thing I had ever had to a family. 

    I am pulled back to the present at the faint sound of voices outside my bedroom door. They’re too quiet to make out what is being said but I roll over grabbing my headphones to play music to drown them out completely. 

Dean’s POV 

    “What are you doing?” Sam asks, shaking me from my thoughts. I stay silent. “Dean, what’s wrong? Why are you sitting outside of (Y/N)’s door in the middle of the night?” I look down at my lap. “She tried to get you to talk to her didn’t she?” I nod. “What’d you do? Yell at her?” 

    I clench my jaw, “And hit her.” 

    Sam is taken aback, “You-” It’s quiet. “You can’t apologize to her if you’re just sitting out here on your ass.” 

    “She’s hasn’t cried,” I mumble. 

    “How do you know?” Sam asks. 

    “When she ran out of the room, I realized what I did & followed her. By the time I made it to her door, she had already shut it.” 

    “So, you-” 

    “I’ve been sitting here trying to convince myself to knock & she hasn’t cried at all,” 

    “You know when she doesn’t cry she’s-” 

    “I know,” I grit my teeth, “She’s angry.” 

    “Well, like I said, you can’t make it right sitting out here.” 

    “Not long after she left her dad & hit the road with us, I promised her that I’d never let anything happen to her. I’d always protect her.” 

    “Dean-” 

    “I hit her, Sam. I’m no better than that piece of shit that calls himself her father.” 

   “Dean, don’t. That man let a stranger walk out of his house with her. He didn’t give two shits that he hurt her. He wouldn’t be sitting outside her bedroom door nearly in tears trying to convince himself to apologize. You’re better than that guy. You’re her best friend & you need to talk to her.” I tossed Sam’s words around in my head for a few moments before he walked off saying, “If you do decide to get up & knock, I might think about rescuing you when she beats the shit out of you.” 

    “I deserve whatever she does to me,” I mumble to myself. 

(Y/N)’s POV 

    After a few hours of listening to music, my headphones beep that they’re dying. I pull them off & toss them toward the end of the bed, making a mental note to charge them later. For a few moments, all I can hear is the music still playing through my dying headphones. Then, there’s a knock at the door. I hold my breath hoping they’ll go away. I’m sure it’s Dean but I’m hoping it’s Sam. If I face Dean right now, I might kill him. Okay, maybe not kill but definitely maim. 

    Another knock sounds. I begrudgingly toss the covers off of my legs & get up. As I pad over to the door, the knocker speaks, “(Y/N), please let me in. I am so unbelievably sorry. I know I don’t deserve it but please let me check on you.” I’m quiet, mentally arguing with myself about whether I should open the door or not. “Okay... I understand. I’ll leave you alone.” 

    I rush to open the door. His head shoots up to look at me. The worry & fear on his face hurts my heart. I know Dean. I know him better than I know myself sometimes, which is why I never expected the outburst from him that I got. I clench my jaw, “I’m fine.” Dean scans my face before breaking eye contact & looking down at his feet. I leave the door open & return to sit on the end of my bed. He stays put at the open door so I give him a look that says, “Well, come in.” 

    He begins making his way to me, “(Y/N) I-” he drops to his knees in front of me & drops his head into his hands, “I’m so sorry. I don’t know what came over me & I know that’s no excuse but please know I never wanted to hurt you I just got angry.” When he looks up again, there is tears in his eyes. His voice cracks as he reaches up, “Can I?” 

    I nod. He gently runs the pad of his thumb over the welt & slowly forming bruise on my cheek. I notice his jaw clench as he pulls his hand away, “Let’s hear it...” 

    I tilt my head at him with confusion on my face, “Hear what?” 

    “How you never want to see me again & I’m a piece of shit. I’m sure you’re probably wanting to give me a couple good right hooks for what I did,” his voice is small & quiet as he continues, “I deserve it.” 

    I think for a moment, “You’re right. I want to beat the shit out of you. The crazy & scary thing is I’d rather crawl into your lap & you hold me like we used to do when I would wake up screaming from a nightmare about my father. I want you to tell me everything is okay & that you’re here & you’ll keep me safe.” I let my words hang in the air for a second & it breaks my heart to see him break a little too. “But... you hit me, Dean... You’re supposed to make sure no one ever hurts me but you hurt me. I want so badly to just brush it off & move on but I can’t. Every instinct in my bones is screaming that I can’t trust you.” 

    He nods solemnly, “I understand. I’ll leave you alone.”  

    He stands to leave but I grab his arm, “Contrary to my usual belief, my instincts aren’t winning this time.” I tug him to sit beside me on the bed, “Dean, you’re the most important person in my life. Somedays, you’re all that keeps me going... I can’t lose you, not when I know that outburst is not who you are.” He’s quiet but a look of hope grows on his face. I continue, “I forgive you.”  

    A small smile graces his features, “Thank you. You don’t know how much this means to me. I promise I will never hurt you again. I promise I’ll do better.” I nod & we’re left in silence for a few moments before he speaks again, “You were trying to get me to tell you why I’ve been distant lately.” I nod, he takes a deep breath, “I-... I’ve been trying to distance myself from you because... because I love you (Y/N). It terrifies me because I know you deserve better & I know you don’t feel the same way so I was hoping distancing myself would make those feelings go away but if anything, it made them worse & I was just super frustrated that it wasn’t working so when you came to me asking what’s wrong I just exploded.” he pauses, “I’m sorry you got caught in the blast radius.” 

    I take his hand in mine, “I’m gonna break this down piece by piece. First of all, idk how on earth you think I’m gonna find anyone better than you. You always take care of me & keep me safe. You know me better than anyone. You understand me better than anyone. I won’t find that anywhere else. Second of all, how dare you assume I don’t feel the same way,” I giggle, “When did you become a mind reader? Thirdly, why didn’t you just tell me you needed space? I would’ve understood. I didn’t enjoy just being left in the cold by my best friend & the man I love.” 

    He looks me in the eye, “I don’t deserve you, ya know that?” I shrug. He chuckles, “I’m sorry I didn’t just say something. I’ll add it to my list of things to be better about.” 

    I squeeze his hand, “While you’re at it, add stop doubting yourself to the list.” I place my free hand on his cheek, “I wish you could see yourself the way I do.” 

    He leans his forehead against mine, “I love you, (Y/N)” 

    I smile, “I love you too, Dean.” 

More Dean Winchester

Masterlist

[sinkovia]

Work calls

John Price x Fem!Reader

Angst, loss of a child, mention of death, blood.

As you stood in the kitchen, chopping vegetables for dinner, you allowed your gaze to wander out of the window to your front yard. The late afternoon sun cast a warm, golden glow on the grass.

Your little girl, the light of your life, was playing gleefully in the yard, and John, your husband, was keeping a watchful eye on her. You heard her muffled laugh through the open window, a melody that never failed to brighten your day. You smiled to yourself as you watched her, feeling a sense of contentment that only a mother could understand. She was the center of your world, the embodiment of your love for John.

Your gaze dropped to the onion you were chopping, the sharp blade slicing through the layers, but your mind was still on the scene outside. As you glanced up again, your brows furrowed in confusion. John stood outside, his back turned away from your daughter, his expression tense as he spoke on the phone.

And then, you saw her. She had wandered into the street, her innocent curiosity leading her away from the safety of the yard. Time seemed to slow as your heart pounded in your chest, the knife slipping from your fingers and clattering to the floor. Your scream pierced the air, a gut-wrenching, blood-curdling cry of terror as you bolted for the front door. As you burst through the front door, you watched in sheer horror as a car came into view and struck her, the sickening sound of impact echoing in your ears.

Your scream of desperation and fear cut through the air, but there was nothing you could do. The worst nightmare a parent could imagine had unfolded before your eyes, shattering your world in an instant. John's eyes followed your panicked sprint, and they widened in horror, the phone slipped from his hand, forgotten, and he sprinted after you.

Collapsing on the ground, you scooped your child's broken and bloodied body into your arms, cradling her close to your chest. The anguish within you poured out in gut-wrenching sobs as you screamed against her limp form. John fell to the floor beside you, his tears streaming down his face as he reached out to touch his daughter.

“Sweetheart baby, baby please say something.” you cried out gently shaking her but you knew deep down she was already dead.

Pain and rage coursing through you, you snapped at him with raw anguish in your voice. "This is your fault! You did this to our little girl!" you sobbed out, your entire world crumbling around you.

Price's eyes filled with disbelief and guilt, his gaze shifting from you to his lifeless daughter. "I'm so sorry. I should have never taken the call. I'm so sorry, oh god, I'm so sorry" he sobbed out, his voice wracked with remorse.

But your grief was too profound, your heartbreak too insurmountable. "Sorry isn't going to bring her back! How many times have I told you not to take work calls when you're around her?" Your words were a broken, anguished cry, a testament to the devastating loss that now enveloped your family.

Two agonizing weeks had passed since the unimaginable loss of your child, and in that time, you had neither spoken to John nor allowed yourself to look at him. The blame you placed on him was an insurmountable wall between you, a barrier that you couldn't bring yourself to breach. Each day was a heavy burden, a constant reminder of the tragedy that could have been prevented. If only he had been watching her more closely, your precious daughter would still be here, and you couldn't forgive him for that.

As you got ready for your child's funeral, slipping on your black heels with mechanical movements, you found your reflection in the mirror to be a mere shadow of the person you once were. Your eyes were lifeless, and the deep bags underneath them were evidence of your sleepless nights. Every time you close your eyes, you were back on that fateful street, cradling your daughter's lifeless body.

John stood behind you, fixing his tie with a heavy heart. He watched your distant gaze, feeling a profound sense of helplessness and guilt. There wasn't a day that had passed where he didn't blame himself, the weight of his failure as a father and husband bearing down on him. Desperate to console you, he reached out, but you recoiled, walking away from his touch.

"I'll be in the car." Was all you muttered out before leaving him alone in the bedroom. With a heavy sigh, John took a seat on the bed, tears forming in his eyes.

He knew that your marriage was falling apart, and the pain was etched into every line on his face as he sat alone in the bedroom, overwhelmed by his own remorse and the rift between you two.

Tears welled in your eyes as you approached your daughter's casket. The scene was almost unbearable to witness - her once lively spirit now lay cold and unmoving in front of you. Your trembling hands reached out, brushing over her hair. A sob escaped your lips as the weight of her loss bore down upon you.

With great care, you placed her favorite stuffed animal next to her, a final token of comfort for your precious child. The reality of the situation crashed over you with painful clarity. You would never be able to tell her bedtime stories again, prepare her lunches for preschool, or hear the sound of her laughter grace your ears.

John walked up beside you, tears glistening in his eyes, a shared grief etched on his face. He reached out, his hand gently covering yours, his voice breaking as he whispered, "I'm so sorry, baby girl."

Your rage-filled eyes slowly turned to him, the resentment swelling in your heart. In that moment, you couldn't bear to hear his apologies or see his remorse. Without a word, you walked away, taking a seat in the somber room as he stayed by your daughter's casket, speaking to her with a heavy heart, the weight of the guilt and loss pressing down on him.

Seven agonizing months had passed, and the pain had not grown any less severe. You had continued to sleep on the couch, night after night. John would ask you every night if you were coming to bed, but you would always reply, your voice distant and hollow, "I'll be there in a minute." however the weight of your grief and resentment kept you anchored on that couch.

Over time, you had lost a significant amount of weight, your appearance a haunting reflection of your past self. You looked like a shadow, hollowed out by the pain of your loss.

You would walk by your daughter's room every day, the door a painful reminder of her absence, but you never found the strength to go inside. The room remained untouched, as if time had frozen the moment she was taken from you. Your marriage with John had crumbled under the weight of your shared tragedy. He knew that taking that call had been a mistake, one he would carry with him for the rest of his life. No matter how many times he apologized, you couldn't find it in your heart to forgive him, no matter how hard you tried. The love you once had for each other had been overshadowed by grief and blame, and the rift between you had grown insurmountable.

The love you once had for each other had faded, and you had changed into someone you barely recognized. He didn't blame you for it; he knew the fault was his alone to bear. He could feel the widening rift between you, and he knew that his time with you was limited. It was only a matter of time before you asked him to sign divorce papers, and the thought of losing you forever weighed heavily on his heart.

Today was the day. You had just returned from the courthouse, your steps heavy and laden with sorrow. John would be home any minute, and as you made your way through your home, you halted in front of your daughter's bedroom. Slowly, you pushed open the door. Her room, which had once been vibrant, loud, and full of color, now appeared dull and lifeless. It had been a tomb for the past seven months.

You walked inside hesitantly, taking in a deep breath. Her scent still lingered in the air, and the room felt like a haunting memory. You stood in the middle of her room, gazing around, your voice trembling as you whispered, "I miss you so much."

Tears welled in your eyes as you opened the curtains, letting the soft orange rays of sunshine through. It was time to confront the past and start healing, no matter how painful it might be. You heard the front door open, and you took another deep breath. As you walked out to the living room, the divorce papers clutched tightly in your hand, you saw John standing there, removing his jacket. The tears in your eyes and the papers in your hand told him everything he needed to know. His heart sank, knowing that his time with you was coming to an end.

You swallowed hard, your voice breaking as you struggled to find the right words. "I need to try and move past this," you began, your hands shaking. "I know what you did was a mistake, and you can spend the rest of your life apologizing for it, but I just can't. I don't think I'll ever find it in my heart to forgive you. I'm sorry."

John's eyes mirrored your sadness, teary-eyed as he nodded, understanding the depth of your pain and your decision. He wanted nothing more than to work things out with you, but he also knew that when you made up your mind, there was no changing it.

"I love you, y/n, you know that, right?" He confessed, his own tears flowing freely now. You smiled, though it was a tearful one, as you looked at him.

"I know, and I love you more than anything, John. I really do. I just... I can't keep living like this anymore. I don't eat, I don't sleep. I'm always in that kitchen, looking out the window. I'm always on that street, holding our little girl's body. Every time I look at you she’s all I see." You wiped away your tears, and he walked up to you, wrapping his arms around you tightly as you sobbed into his chest. His fingers combed through the back of your hair, holding you close as you both grieved for what was lost.

You both took a seat at the dining table, the divorce papers lying there like a heavy burden. John glanced over at you, his eyes brimming with tears. His voice was soft and desperate, his last plea for a different outcome.

"Are you sure this is what you want?" he asked, his voice quivering, hope still flickering within him despite the despair that loomed over your relationship.

You met his gaze, your own eyes filled with sorrow, the weight of your decision settling upon you. It was a choice you had agonized over for months, but in the end, you couldn't keep living in the shadow of your pain and resentment. As much as it hurt, as much as you still loved him, you nodded with a heavy heart, "I am."

His tears fell freely as he accepted your answer, and with a trembling hand, he began to sign the divorce papers, sealing the end of a love that had once been filled with hope and happiness.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting long shadows throughout your daughter's room, a heavy silence filled the air. John, his arms around you, held you close as your tears fell, a silent testament to the pain you both felt. And in that moment, it became clear that the love you once shared was now a memory, a casualty of the tragedy that had befallen your lives. The house, once vibrant with the laughter and joy of your little girl, remained still and empty.

John, unable to stem the tide of his own tears, pressed a final kiss to your forehead, his lips trembling against your skin. The weight of your decision pressed on both of you, a heavy burden that neither could bear any longer. With the divorce papers still clutched in your hand, you stepped away from Price's embrace, your eyes locked onto his for one last painful, lingering moment.

Before you could turn he gently grabbed your hand. You turned, looking back up at him. “If one day you find it in your heart to forgive me will you let me know? Will you call? I don't think I’ll be able to rest peacefully in the grave if I die knowing you hate me.” you frowned looking down at your shaking hands before returning your gaze to him.

“I don’t hate you, John, I hate what you failed to do. I hate the fact that every time I look at you I see our dead daughter… I need to find a way to move passed this, but I can't do that with you around.” John softly smiled and nodded, he understood what you were saying and he didn’t blame you for wanting this.

“Once I pull myself together and heal from her death and I mean really heal I’ll come back. I don't know how long that will take but I promise when I do I’ll come back and we can try to fix this… fix us.” A glimmer of hope filled his heart and he gently nodded.

“Ill be waiting.”

You half smiled as you turned away and walked out the front door, leaving John standing there, his heart aching with the knowledge that he had lost not only his daughter but the love of his life. The door closed behind you, and the world continued to turn, but for you and John, it had stopped on that fateful day seven months ago.

[dreamingofep]

Forbidden Love Pt. 7 💔❣️

Fandom: Elvis - Elvis (2022)

Prompt: Reuniting with Elvis was supposed to be the highlight of your summer, but with unresolved tensions between you two, things aren't what they seem. [Fem!reader]

TW: Cussing, angst, mentions of infertility, Elvis being ~very difficult~😠

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 5.4k

A/N: Hi everyone! Posting in Elvis hours again hehe. This chapter is an emotional rollercoaster so be prepared! Forgive me for putting these two through the wringer🫣 I would recommend re-reading the first chapter again because I did leave some clues of what is going to be unveiled... Hope you enjoy! Elvis needs a hug and a slap on the wrist in this chapter🤭

July 5th, 1969

Tonight was another planned dinner and you couldn’t be more excited. This means you get to see Elvis with no other explanation and if you were lucky, you’d sneak away from everyone and kiss him like he’s your only supply of oxygen. Elvis coordinated this whole dinner. After five full days of rehearsing hours on end for his show, he wanted to have a little fun and invite some friends over. You liked how excited Elvis got over things lately. It was such a turn compared to a few weeks ago when he barely liked any company, especially yours. 

John was never thrilled about these dinners. He wouldn’t sit by you and would barely look in your direction so you and Elvis always sat next to each other. You’d joke and glance at each other with longing stares that made you feel aflame. His hand would brush your thigh and you couldn’t help but inch closer to him, longing for him to keep touching you. You loved those secret moments.

It was almost time to leave and you put on some glossy pink lipstick before rushing to get your heels on. You open the door and the phone rings as you’re about to leave the house. You run back in and grab the phone.

“Hello?” You say a bit winded.

“Hi baby when are you coming over?” Elvis asks smoothly. 

“I was just about to leave but here I am on the phone with you,” you tease him.

“Well, I’m glad I caught ya then. I want you to pack some things. I want you to stay the night,” he says matter-of-factly. You almost gasp at his request. He wouldn’t dare make it so obvious that you two were seeing each other. 

“No, absolutely not. Are you insane? We’d get caught and that would be the end of that,” you say shortly.

“No one’s gonna be home tonight. Dianne won’t be here, she’s got a flight later tonight to see some family,” he explains. You grew nervous, it was still too risky. This plan of his was going to blow up in smoke.

“And what about John? You need to deal with him. He expects me to be home with him. I don’t need him to start to grow suspicious of why I hang out at your house so late,” you say annoyed.

“Let me deal with him. Just bring your things, okay?” He says low and hangs up quickly.

You grunt frustrated, you hated that it had to be his way or no way at all. But you also didn’t have it in you to fight with him. You liked him taking the lead and having his way with you. You quickly go back to the bedroom and scour the closet for a duffle bag to pack some things for the night. It was a little nerve-wracking that you’d be there all night but you knew you’d love it. You race back to the front door and put the bag in your trunk, excited for tonight’s adventure. 

*

You pulled up to the house and the driveway was already packed with cars. Some of the guys were out there waiting to open the gate for you and you quickly parked the car, rushing to get inside. Walking up to the door, the murmur of voices behind it made you a bit nervous. Elvis better be on his best behavior. There were going to be too many eyes around tonight. You couldn’t get too close to him or disaster could strike.

There were a few people at the entrance of the house and they politely smiled at you and said hello. You do the same but your eyes frantically search for Elvis. You wanted to see him, as bad as it was, you needed to see what he was wearing tonight.

You round the corner and into the living room and you stop dead in your tracks. You found him and he was wearing all black and a blue scarf that made his eyes pop. He forgoes a shirt underneath his jacket and it shows off his tan chest. You loved his fashion choices lately and not wearing anything underneath his jackets with scarves or leaving his shirts unbuttoned scandalously low. He looked absolutely gorgeous and his eyes lit up when he saw you too.

Your smile begins to fade when you realize Dianne is sitting on his lap, wearing a short ruffled skirt and tank top, twirling his scarf around her finger. Your blood boiled, you hated seeing her on him. It was stupid honestly. She was only playing a part and so was Elvis. But this wasn’t a public event, there was no need for a dramatic display of affection from the two of them. You do everything in your power to force the fakest smile you’ve ever given. Elvis probably saw right through it as you stared at him blankly. 

“Hi y/n, it’s nice to see you again,” Jerry says on your right, snapping you out of your jealousy.

“Hi Jerry, always nice to see you,” you say to him and give him a hug. 

John was sitting next to Elvis and goes to hug you. It shocked you a little, he wasn’t the type to give affection so publicly. You smell the faintest scent of alcohol on him. I guess that answers why he’s so affectionate. You hug him anyway because you want Elvis to feel the same jealousy you felt when you looked at Dianne sitting on his lap. You grab John by the face and kiss him. You felt Elvis’ eyes burn into your skin. He hated what you were doing. You loved getting the reaction out of him though.

You pull away from him and act embarrassed, “Oh hi Dianne, so nice to see you again! Hi Elvis,” you say a bit flatly. Dianne quickly gets up and gives you a big hug.

“Oh, I’m so glad you’re here! I can use a girl’s company! Please sit down,” she says sitting back on Elvis’ lap and having you sit right next to him. There was a small space left on the couch and you squeezed beside him, placing your purse on the side of it and out of the way. His legs were spread open and your leg touched his. You try not to let it get to you but your body says otherwise.

“How have you been y/n? How was your day?” Dianne asks.

“Oh, it was fine. I just worked a shift at the diner and went home for a bit to relax before coming here,” you tell her.

“Oh, how nice. Do you like your job?” She asks as he continues to twirl Elvis’ scarf around her finger and rest her other hand on his bare chest. You tried to let it not distract you but you’re failing. It irked you the way he was letting her touch him. It was ridiculous of you, but it didn’t matter. You hated it and wished you were the one in his lap instead.

“No, not really, but it pays the bills in the meantime,” you joke.

“You’re an actress right?” Jerry butts in. Thank God for that, at least you don’t have to look directly at Dianne anymore.

“Yes, I am. I’m on a bit of a hiatus. Things have been a little tough and I’ve needed to take a break from it. I wasn’t getting as many jobs and it started to affect us,” you say a bit hurt.

You hated admitting that your dream wasn’t panning out the way you wanted it to. You didn’t quit the business, you were just falling on hard times and needed to make some quick money before going back out there. 

“Sorry you’ve had to take a break, you’ll get back on your feet in no time. I’ve seen some of your movies, you’re a natural,” Jerry says sweetly.

“Thanks,” you say sheepishly. It was nice to hear someone saw the potential you had. You look at John briefly and see he has this annoyed expression on his face when he’s listening to you talk about your career. It ticked you off even though you should be used to it by now.

“Maybe you can focus on other things in the meantime,” Dianne says cheerfully, “Maybe you can start a family,” she tells you.

You look at her blankly. You didn’t want to talk about this stuff with her around. She was the last person you wanted to talk about family stuff with.

“Umm, no, I don’t think that’ll be happening,” you try to deflect.

“Oh, why not?” She asks.

“It’s not the right time,” you try to shrug like it doesn’t bother you.

“Well, you never know. Blessings can happen when you least expect it,” she says as she wraps her arms around Elvis’ neck. It took everything in you to shove her off of him and get her to stop asking a million questions.

“Yeah, but we’re good. It’s not the right time to start a family,” you reiterate a bit sharply, hoping she’ll shut up.

“Oh but can you imagine, a little you running around? That would be the cutest,” she says excitedly looking at Elvis, “maybe we can try again?” She says looking at Elvis, leaning in to kiss him.

You felt like screaming at him, both of them for that matter but God that got under your skin and stayed there. Again?! What does she mean again?! You wanted to yell and scream your head off at him if he was actually having his way with both of you at the same time. You clench your fist closed and do everything in your power to swallow your pride and not say anything to him. Yet. He will get an earful from you later, you were going to make sure of that. 

“Well you have fun with that,” you say sarcastically, making sure to not look at Elvis.

“You two really would have the cutest kids!” Dianne continues to ramble.

“Yeah, that's not happening. We’d need a miracle to happen,” John mutters a bit too loudly as he takes a sip of his beer.

You feel every pair of eyes dart to you and you freeze. You stare at John in disbelief that he just said that. He looks at you as though he sees right through you. He looks at you like you’re such a disappointment. You glance at Elvis and see a look of concern. 

“What? What does he mean?” Dianne asks confused. You wanted this night to end right here and now. You were sick and tired of her incessant questions and angry at John’s drunken slip-up.

“It means I can’t have kids. It’ll never be the right time it seems and I can’t do anything about it but move on,” you say sharply and throw daggers at her. She grows quiet and looks away from you.

The room was extremely quiet and you felt everyone’s uncomfortableness as the rest of the house was loud and full of laughter. You tap your leg nervously, hating that the attention is on you and this topic. You debate whether you should just leave the room or pray to God someone changes the topic again. You were hoping Jerry would be that person again but sadly he didn’t get that memo.

“I’m so sorry y/n,” Elvis says softly, almost too low for you to even hear.

You look up at his puppy dog eyes and let your anger get the best of you. Looking at him made you more angry and hearing that he was sorry for you pushed you past your boiling point. You stare at him blankly, fire burning in your eyes as you don’t want to be around him anymore. 

You get up from the couch and try to put on a believable smile like none of this got to you.

“I’m going to grab a drink, does anyone want anything?” You ask cheerfully.

Everyone murmurs no and you see yourself out. Your smile instantly drops when your back faces everyone in the living room. You squeeze your way through the dining room where a lot of people are gathered and go to the kitchen. It's a bit quieter in here and you get to breathe and try to shake off everything that just happened. You hated how this was brought up, it made you feel shitty. You don’t know if Dianne brought this up on purpose or what but you like her even less now. 

You find champagne on the kitchen island and pour yourself a small glass. You sip the bubbly drink and try to calm yourself down before you go back out there. You suddenly feel a hand gently grab your arm and pull you to the side. You look up and see it's Elvis and he keeps walking to a side room off of the kitchen. You shrug out of his grasp and grunt frustrated.

“Elvis?! What the hell do you think you’re doing?” You snap.

“I needed to talk to you,” he says.

“It can wait, let's get out there,” you say flatly, trying to push past him. 

He steps in front of the door and locks it.

“No, I’m not letting you out of here until we talk about this,” he says sternly.

“There’s nothing to talk about Elvis, let’s just go,” you grumble. 

“Yes there is,” he says as he pulls you in to hug you, “I’m so sorry. I had no idea,” he says gently. 

As much as you loved it when he held you in his arms, you didn’t want that kind of affection right now. You push away at his chest and feel the tears well in your eyes. 

“Elvis no. I can’t do this with you. I tried to tell you. I did, I tried. But you were too busy for me! That was the moment I realized we weren’t friends anymore. I told whoever answered the phone it was extremely important to talk to you and they said they’d go and get you but you didn’t answer the phone! I waited for hours for you, crying my eyes out hoping you’d talk to me but you didn’t. I needed you. I needed someone to go to and comfort me when I was going through this tough time and I had no one,” you say angrily. 

“God no,” he angrily mutters, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I don’t remember-. When was this? Please help me understand,” he pleads with you. 

“A few years ago. ‘66 I believe. Everything went up in flames that year. I came to the realization I’ll never be able to have a family and things only got worse with me and John. I was losing traction with my career and not getting cast as much. It was all a mess and I had no one to talk to,” you weep turning away from him so he wouldn’t see you cry. 

“I’m sorry honey that’s awful. I wish I could have done something, I’m sorry. I don’t know what I was thinking…” he rambles. 

“Nothing. You were thinking about nothing and ignoring me like every other man in my life,” you grumble. 

There’s a heavy silence that fills the room as you can still hear the liveliness of the party going on out there. 

“He isn’t supportive about any of it? Not even empathetic?” Elvis asks gently. 

“No. And I know deep down, he hates me for it. We were having some minor problems before this happened and a naive part of me thought that if I gave him a baby, everything would be alright. But years went on and it never happened. I had to face the reality that something was wrong with me and had to move on. There’s nothing I can do about it,” you say defeated. 

“Honey I-,” he starts to say but you stop him. 

“No! Don’t honey me! You are not innocent here. What the fuck was that about in the living room? Dianne saying you guys should try again?” You say as anger boils through you. 

“Are you messing around with her and me at the same time?! You told me the whole relationship between you two was just a publicity stunt and nothing more,” you seethe. 

He sighs and takes a step back from you, “It’s more complicated than that…” he starts to say. 

“No it’s not!” You yell at him. 

“Shh, please lower your voice,” he growls. 

“No, you don’t get to tell me what to do! Yes or no, are you two screwing around or was she trying to make your little story more believable by saying that.” You snap. 

His face looks distraught and he looks like he can cry too. It was a horrible sight to see. You only wanted to see him happy and full of joy. You can see he’s searching for the right words but hesitates to say any of them. 

“Yes, years ago we did. I was very unhappy with my career and hated everything I was doing. A lot like you, I thought maybe I should get married or have a baby, maybe that would make me happier? But I realized that none of that was going to make me happy and I didn’t like Dianne that way. I would be miserable if I married her,” he explains. 

You felt bad for him too, how unhappy he was like you and had nowhere to go. Things should have been different between you two. If you had talked to each other about all of this, maybe you wouldn’t feel so alone and helpless. 

“But to answer your question, no, I’m not even touching her. I want nothing to do with her like that now,” he pauses and slowly gets closer to you, “I only want you baby, please you have to believe me.” He says sorrowful. 

You don’t respond to him. You were too hurt by all of this and don’t want to be here anymore. 

“We should go out there, they’re waiting on us,” you murmur not looking at his face. He doesn’t budge and pulls you into his arms once more. 

“Baby please look at me. I’m sorry about everything,” he purrs. 

You wanted to forgive him of course, it felt awful to be cross with him but you needed space. You still hold this grudge against him that he hasn’t been there for you when he said he always would be. You push past him and quickly get out of the room and into the kitchen. 

There were so many people around, that your absence wasn’t noticed where you had been for the last few minutes. You head back out to the living room with a drink in your head. You force another fake smile as you stand off to the side as you don’t want to sit by either Dianne or John. Fifteen minutes passed and Elvis still hadn’t joined you. You grew anxious as to what was taking him so long. It’s not like he’d just leave his own house and leave his party.

After an hour or so of dealing with insufferable conversation, it was time for dinner. An extra table was brought in so everyone could sit together. Elvis finally appears from the back of the house with a stark look on his face. As usual, he coordinated it so you had to sit next to him. This was the first night you did not want to be close to him by any means. Everything was ticking you off and everyone’s dumb jokes were annoying you more than anything. 

Elvis picked up on your mood instantly and he was quieter than usual. You could feel him looking at you through the whole dinner but you didn’t look his way once. You picked at your food, not really hungry after everything that has transpired. It was only ten but you wanted to get out of this house. You were no longer in the mood to stay over or be around Elvis at all. The longer you stayed here, the worse this night could get. 

You probably should have listened to your instincts and gotten up right now but you didn’t and disaster was about to strike. 

You tune back into everyone’s conversations and act like you’re interested in what they have to say. Some of the guys were talking about something that happened on a movie set a few years ago and were laughing about it. They brought up some girls they thought were pretty and how they didn’t give them the light of day when they asked them out on a date. 

Elvis would mess with them and tease that no girls were interested in them anyway. It was light-hearted banter and it did take your mind off of the uncomfortable situation you were in earlier. One of the guys turns their attention to you and it surprises you a bit. 

“You’ve worked with Nicole, haven’t you? You know who we’re talking about.”

“Oh yeah, I worked on a movie with her. She was so nice,” you recall the fond memory. 

“She liked you too. She hoped to work with you again. What are you working on now?” He asks. 

You don’t feel threatened by the question and brush it off, it was just an innocent inquiry. 

“Nothing right now. I’m hoping to get back out there soon though,” you say hopefully. 

“You are? SInce when?” John asks a bit annoyed from the other end of the table. You stare darkly at him and try to keep your cool. 

“Yes, I do. I miss being on set and everything. That’s where I was the most happy and had the most fun,” you say looking away from John and addressing anyone else that was listening to the conversation. 

“Oh, you should have been on the set for one of Elvis’ movies. We had some wild times,” one of the guys laughed. A lot more of them laugh, reminiscing about such memories and you giggle too, you can only imagine what kind of trouble they got into on set. 

“Oh I bet you guys have quite the stories,” you chuckle, “that almost happened though. I almost got the role of Elvis’ love interest in one of his movies in ‘66 but the producers went another direction at the last minute. It sucked but whatever,” you try to say nonchalantly.

“That’s right, I remember when Elvis found out you got cast. He freaked out,” he says laughing.

“Would you shut up,” Elvis says quickly, anger lacing his words.

You were confused by all of this. Why would Elvis be so freaked out about you getting cast in a movie? You thought it would be a nice reunion in a way. It was something you always wanted to happen.

“What are you talking about?” You ask, laughing slightly thinking he was just messing with you.

“Yeah, he saw your name on the cast list and called the director right away. You didn’t know? I thought he called you to explain,” He asks you confused. 

“He didn't call me for a whole decade,” you scowl. 

“That’s enough,” Elvis hissed. 

You were baffled at what was going on. None of this made sense. Why would he act like this when he found out you got cast in his movie? Your mind races and starts creating the worst possible scenarios. Did he actually have a hatred for you for whatever reason?

You slowly turn your body to face Elvis, a slow boiling rage is once again beginning to develop inside of you. 

“Why would you call the director about me?” You say sharply, holding your breath as you look at him like you could bite his head off. 

He looks back at you with the same intensity but you don’t waiver. 

“Answer me,” you say through your teeth. 

Everyone gets a bit uncomfortable, not looking directly at either of you.

You watch him swallow sharply, clearly not wanting to speak. 

“I-, I called him to tell him I had concerns..” he says gently. 

“Concerns about what?” You snap. 

“That maybe you weren’t the right fit…” he says timidly. 

You had enough and quickly got up and left the table. The screech of your chair moving back made everyone jump and not look at you in your state of fury. You walk back into the living room to grab your keys and your purse and head for the front door. No one moved an inch and watched you storm out of the house. You didn’t know whether you should scream or cry or do both at the same time. You couldn’t believe Elvis would ever do such a thing. Especially to you. 

You start to walk towards your car and you hear excited screams of a dozen fans waiting outside to see Elvis. A few flashing lights are going off from their cameras but are instantly disappointed that it’s just you. It was going to be hard getting out of here and you get frustrated, you needed to leave and get some space from all of this. You didn’t want to give Elvis any more time to fuck up anything else. 

“Y/n please wait,” you hear Elvis say behind you. You glance over your shoulder and see he’s trying to catch up to you. The backyard gate is on your left and that’s the only place you can go to hide from the screaming fans and everyone else at this party. You quickly open it and walk along the side of the house. Your heels make a loud echo on the concrete as you storm away from Elvis as fast as you can. 

“Y/n please,” Elvis begs and gently grabs your arm to stop you. 

“What the fuck is wrong with you?!” You seethe. He looks at you stunned, he’s never seen you so upset. “Why would you do this to me?!” You continue. 

“Honey I- I don’t know. I didn’t know what-, can you just let me explain,” he tells you. You could barely see straight you were so upset. 

“No, you listen to me! Do you know what you did?!” 

“I know it was wrong. I-I-I’m sorry baby I just thought-. The script was absolutely terrible and I was tryin’ to-,” he stammers.

“You were thinking about yourself that’s what was happening! How could you take something like this away from me,” you say as your voice cracks with emotion.

He grunts frustratedly and walks away from you, his hands on his hips with his head fallen down. 

“I was afraid… I couldn’t see you after all those years,” he mutters.

“What?”

He turns around slowly and his blue eyes are filled with tears.

“I knew I was being an awful person. I wasn’t writing you back, I wasn’t answering your phone calls, I didn’t even try to see you in person once I came back from the army, I knew you hated me for it all. And I couldn’t blame you. As time went on, I knew there was nothing that would have excused how I was acting. I panicked and couldn’t see you. I called the director and said I was nervous working with you. I explained there was a certain history we had and I couldn’t shake my nerves. Before I knew it, they had you recast. It wasn’t what I intended to happen. I was just hoping they would push the start date or something. I never wanted you off the movie, I just needed more time to figure out what I’d even say to you,” he admits.

“Why didn’t you say something like that then? Why didn’t you tell them you wanted me in the movie,” you ask.

“I just-, I was still afraid. I thought it was meant to be this way… to keep not seeing you,” he admits.

You sink to your knees and sit on the hard ground. You cover your face in your hands and let your tears fall. You couldn’t believe any of it. How could you be so dumb? All you wanted was to be close to Elvis again but he proved time and time again he didn’t want that.

He was afraid to see you? What did he possibly think when he agreed to hire John. Did he think that he could still ignore you? 

“That one role could have changed my life you know that? If I had on my resume that I worked with Elvis Presley, maybe the tide could have changed for me. Now I’ll never know if that could have been a possibility,” you sob.

“I know… I’m sorry…” he says softly. “And I didn’t know what you were dealing with personally which makes me feel even worse,” he says kneeling in front of you.

You both sit there motionless, not wanting to talk anymore. You felt your heart hurt, you never thought you could feel so broken. Just when you thought things were getting better, it came crashing down. You knew this whole thing was too good to be true. You just didn’t know how messy it would be.

You get up and smooth your dress out. Elvis quickly gets up too, looking at you with concern. 

“I’m sorry baby, please. I was an idiot I didn’t know what I was doing,” he pleads as he gently caresses your face. His touch burns your skin and makes you feel weak. You hate yourself for liking his hands on you so much. You sigh softly and lean against the wall. He presses his forehead against yours and his breathing hitches. You place your hand on his cheek and feel the wet drops of tears cover his face.

“Please, forgive me,” he begs, his voice quivering softly. You stay silent as he tilts your head up to look up at him through wet eyelashes. He places the softest kiss on your lips, making you feel weak. Both of you gasp, needing air over this small kiss. He places another kiss on your lips, this time with a bit more urgency. You squeeze at his arm, trying to fight his magnetic pull. It’s almost useless. His arms pull you closer to him and you both sigh exasperated. You tremble with emotion and he places another passionate kiss on you. 

“I’m sorry baby, please,” he whimpers. 

You feel on fire but the tears pouring down from your eyes are making you feel like you have a fractured soul now. You’ll never be whole again. You struggle for breath and try to get a hold of yourself. You push at his chest and blink through your tears to look at him. You had never seen him cry like this and it breaks you. 

“I can’t see you anymore. Whatever this was, it's done,” you sob.

Fear engulfs his eyes and he shakes his head. 

“No no please baby, don’t go. Stay, we can talk more,” he pleads. 

“There’s nothing else to say,” you whimper. You start to take a few steps away and he gently holds your hand. 

“Don’t leave. Please don’t leave me. I can’t be without you. I don’t know how to get by without you here. I need you,” he begs. Tears stream down your face and you feel like the air got sucked out of your lungs when you hear him confess this. It sounded too good to be true. These were words you always longed to hear coming from his lips. It’s too late though. 

“I have to go,” you sob. 

“Baby no,” he cries, slowly crumbling to his knees in front of you. 

You feel your heart break in two, this was a sight you never wanted to see. It felt awful to say but you needed to walk away. There was nothing else to fix this relationship. 

“Bye E,” you whimper and pull your hand away from his. It felt physically painful. 

You walk back out to the driveway and you see some of the guys waiting to open the gate for you. Putting the keys in the ignition, your radio blares and Elvis’ voice rings from the speakers. It was a song you didn’t recognize. It must have been off of his new album or something. You quickly shut the radio off and want to drive in silence instead. Backing out of the driveway, you see Elvis standing in the middle of it. He looked distraught, like he just witnessed a death. 

In a way, that’s what it felt like. This whole evening was ruined from the moment you walked into the house. Any possibility of what could have been with you and Elvis was washed away by a flood.

*

*

*

Tagging:

@loving-elvis @neptuneismysister @velvetelvis

@ccab @presleyenterprise @theresalwaysep

@prompted-wordsmith @sillybookmarks @dkayfixates

@ellie-24 @rktismylife-blog

@myradiaz @tacozebra051

@thatbanditqueen

@18lkpeters @flwrs4aust @emma181873

@austinswhitewolf @eliseinmemphis

@everythingelvispresley @chasingwildflowers

@idontwanttoputanything @ohjustpeachy-

@elvisalltheway101 @austinsmutler @kingdomforapony.

@generoustreemystic @claire-elvisgirl

@ashtag6887 @burnthheparaphilia @richardslady121

@jaqueline19997

@returntopresley. @iloveelvis @rjmartin11 @that-hotdog

@louisejoy86 @misspresley @cattcb @annapresley8

@arrolyn1114 @raginginkedslut @epthedream69

@mh777ep1938

@50sexyshadestashionista

@oldhOllywOod @hooked-on-elvis @livelovedilfs

@sloppiest-of-jos @thisis-theway @gatheraheart

@aphroditebabygirl @faeolwen

[plus-i-miss-you]

I LOVED THE OREKOTO AND MIKOTO HEADCANONS AUUAU!!! If it's not a bother, could you pls write a prisoner gn!reader comforting mahiru, fuuta, mikoto and amane after t2? Sorry if this is too vague !!

Seeing them all tired and beat up made me miserable... they deserve a kiss on the forehead or smth

▷ listening to:

"but i still forgive you" (gn!reader)

⇆ㅤ ㅤ◁ㅤ ❚❚ ㅤ▷ ㅤㅤ↻ ılıılıılıılıılıılıㅤ

♪ note: HI HI ELI so sorry this request has been gathering dust in my inbox for more than a month.. i really wanted to write this but life be life-ing.. i really enjoyed writing this and i hope you enjoy reading this too! (also so sorry if i sound weird but i'm assuming you meant comforting them after t1? ^^'')

♪ summary: es may have done some.. pretty strange decisions and now not only the guard and the guilty prisoners, but everyone has to deal with it, including you. you can't help but feel bad for the guilty ones, and hopefully, you can offer them at least some kind of support.

♪ warnings: description of fuuta and mahiru being in pain because of their injuries, the reader character doesn't know about mikoto and john being a system, but still treats them as respectfully as possible, mentions of cults and religious trauma in amane's section. fuuta, mahiru and mikoto parts can be seen as both romantic and platonic, meanwhile amane's part is strictly platonic.

fuuta kajiyama.

♪ fuuta was.. in terrible condition, to say the least. his personality was so different from the fuuta you knew, too. sure, you've met him not so long ago, but seeing him act like this felt.. weird. you actually kinda missed the old fuuta, yes, he was kinda rude, loud and said things without thinking, but you'd prefer that than seeing fuuta in pain and not being able to say a word. you wish you could help him somehow, but.. what could you do? you doubt that convincing es to forgive him is possible..

♪ you tried to support him at least in an emotional way, even though you knew that might not work. it's highly possible he won't be able to see with his right eye ever again, of course, that's extremely traumatizing. he also got beat up by kotoko out of all prisoners, who actually seemed to be similar to him in a way. but you told him that if fuuta wanted to talk to you about anything, like complain about something or vent, he could always do that. fuuta found your kindness weird and even suspicious at first, but.. fine, he could use a friend in a situation like this. or at least a person who could hear him out.

♪ fuuta finds himself coming to you more often than he thought he would. it's not like he has that many people to talk to here anyway. he's grateful to kazui (even though he doesn't want to admit it), but.. he's not sure if there is anything he can talk to him about. haruka and muu are really close now, it honestly feels like haruka has forgotten about everyone else. oh, but surprisingly, fuuta's been getting along with amane lately- what do you mean, you "have a bad feeling about this", y/n?.. 

♪ you will never actually hear this from him, but you can feel that fuuta is glad to have someone like you here. he looks calmer with you around and if he can't open up to anyone else about something, at least he can open up to you. it's easier for him to fall asleep when you're next to him, so you may find him suddenly doing so with his head on your shoulder or your lap. just, uh.. be prepared for him to be really flustered when he wakes up and sees you.

mahiru shiina.

♪ she's honestly surprised that you want to spend time with her and help her feel better despite her being voted guilty. she immediately starts joking (or maybe half-joking?..) about falling in love with you because of your kindness and you just roll your eyes and ask if she's okay and if she's in any pain. you remind her to take her medications, you ask shidou for help if her condition gets worse and you help her move around with her wheelchair, so that she doesn't feel isolated from the rest of the prisoners. being in milgram is already isolating enough.

♪ you try to help her feel better by doing things that are small and simple to you, but very meaningful to her. you brush her hair, you paint her nails (even if you can only do so on one hand for now..), you tell her that she still looks beautiful, and every time you do that, it makes her smile. it's still different from that usual smile of hers, but it's a smile that shows even though she's still suffering, she appreciates you being around. 

♪ mahiru doesn't understand why you're still helping her. is this because you love her?.. ah, please forgive her, that's just her being her usual silly self. but still.. she wasn't forgiven, right? that means she was in the wrong.. but she doesn't understand what made es vote her guilty. all she did was love her boyfriend a lot, right? does that mean that her love itself is a sin?.. is she not allowed to love at all?.. you gently interrupt mahiru and say that you don't know why es refused to forgive her, but you personally don't think mahiru's love is a sin at all. in fact, it's a blessing.

♪ mahiru feels like the sun itself personified to you and you hope that she gets better soon, but you're also grateful for the opportunity to take care of her like this. she always gives so much love to everyone, you wonder how much she gets back. you softly pat her head while making sure it's not painful considering her injury and ask what she wants to do today, but it takes a while for mahiru to answer because of your words still ringing in her head, but in a good way.

amane momose.

♪ .. so why exactly es decided to vote a child guilty? you know you probably shouldn't say anything about the guard's decisions, but.. this just doesn't make any sense to you. just what did es see in amane's video? or maybe something happened during the interrogation? amane's behavior has changed a lot, but you don't blame her for it. of course she would start acting differently. she's a 12 year old who was voted guilty and almost got beaten up by kotoko, kotoko ending up not doing anything to her was honestly a miracle. of course she would be mad. she should be.

♪ you try to talk to her and she kinda ignores you at first. however, you're not as bad as shidou, so.. fine, maybe she can hang out with you a little bit. it's hard not to feel sorry for her though, because of how messy her hair is and how empty her eyes are. you try to cheer her up somehow, like maybe you can do something really cute with her hair or maybe you can cook something for her (while still respecting her dietary restrictions and not forcing her to eat something she's not allowed to).. amane finds your attempts to become closer with her strange, but.. maybe she could use some company.

♪ every time she mentions her "god" around you though, you try to change the topic. you like amane and you genuinely want this kid to get better, but you're not really feeling like becoming a part of a cult.. amane just sighs and says you'll understand it someday. sometimes you catch her mumbling something about being forgiven this time and es needing to make the correct judgement. you can't really help her much when it happens and you can't do anything other than say that es will definitely forgive her, but amane manages to turn even something simple as that into rambles about her god. you can't help but wonder what amane's life used to be like.

♪ you can't convince amane that her family wasn't as kind as she thinks they were. you can't convince her that the way she was raised was too cruel. you know she won't believe you. and you know you're not a therapist. but at least you can be her friend. at least you can gently guide her, while still giving her a choice, so that she feels more free. more free than she possibly ever was in her life. and even though amane never talks about it, she does appreciate it. she feels strangely warm when you're around. she wonders if it's okay to feel this way and if god would ever forgive her for that. 

mikoto kayano.

♪ you didn't know why mikoto suddenly started to act like this. you tried to get at least some information from others, including es, but nobody gave you a proper answer, even though you had a feeling like kotoko and es know what's going on. for some reason, this mikoto just didn't.. feel like mikoto to you. it's like it was.. different mikoto? no, that doesn't sound right. it felt like it was a completely different person. you couldn't prove it and when you tried to say it out loud, it sounded weird, but.. it felt like a correct answer to you. 

♪ when it felt like it was the mikoto you knew, you always made sure to tell him what's going on, what happened, basically all the information he needed. he always looked so lost and confused, you couldn't help but feel sorry for him. you assumed that it was probably because of the trauma related to being voted guilty. you actually couldn't understand es's decision at all. just why would they vote someone like mikoto guilty? was his video really that bad? it didn't feel like mikoto was pretending to be less smarter than he is. why would he even have to do that? you all are murderers here, there's no reason for him to try and trick anyone.

♪ when it felt like it was someone else, you still tried to treat him with kindness. you couldn't understand why everyone started to avoid this person so suddenly. yes, this person was.. quite different from mikoto, but.. maybe at least they could try to accept him? you actually found it surprising how quickly he calmed down after you showed him that you don't intend to hurt him or mikoto. maybe this was the only thing he needed: someone telling him that he's safe and that he's not in danger. or maybe it was something they both needed.

♪ both mikoto and this person seem to actually like you a lot.. well, it's not like they have much of a choice here, considering that other prisoners don't really want to spend time with them. but it looks like they don't mind it that much. yes, mikoto is definitely still worried about it and he doesn't seem to remember what happens when the other person is here, but the other guy doesn't really care about the other prisoners and the only thing that bothers him is how possibly dangerous they can be. and even though he still has his suspicions.. you don't seem that dangerous to him.

[thatsmzbitchtoyou]

The Fuck Up FINAL Chapter 6

Summary:  Bucky fucked up.  A few times.  Will his best friend ever be able to forgive him?

Warnings: language, smut, mentions of war, injury, pregnancy

Previous Chapter

Bucky unofficially moved in with Y/N that first week. He never slept at his parents’ house anymore, and moved almost all of his things over to her house. It wasn’t something they discussed, it was just assumed that he was staying. As Bucky started his retirement from the military he got a job at the local bookshop in the small town she lived in. Her income from the online company she worked for and the photography side business was enough to handle the bills by herself, but he wanted to contribute and make sure he was doing his part in providing what little he could outside of his military benefits.

They’d gotten into a routine, becoming the little family that he’d always dreamed of. Avi grew and his sweet personality started to shine through. Every day seemed like a celebration of some kind in Bucky’s mind. Avi’s first roll over, his first uncomplaining tummy time, his first word, his first stand, it all was cause for an announcement as his baby got stronger. His relationship with Y/N was slower and more intentional as they got to know each other in this new dynamic. After Avi’s first birthday Bucky felt like it was time to shoot his shot.

“Hey honey!” he called out as he got home.

“Hey!” she called back from the kitchen. He followed her voice and saw her cooking dinner as Avi was in the bouncer watching “Bluey” and kicking his legs frantically. The whole scene was so domestic, so wholesome, that he smiled widely as he walked over to Avi.

“Hey little man!” he greeted him. Avi turned to him and smiled, grunting and reaching his hands up for him. “Come here. Have you been good for Mama today?” Avi gurgled a response as Bucky picked him up and hugged him, kissing his cheek.

“He was great,” Y/N answered, turning to look at Bucky briefly before going back to the stove.

Bucky approached her and gave her a side hug and kissed her temple. “And how was your day?”

Y/N returned his side hug and squished Avi’s cheek before focusing on the pan in front of her. “It was alright. Got that big project finally done. If I don’t have to answer another email from that John dude again it will be a great day,” she said as she started plating the pasta dish she’d made.

“Ugh, John,” Bucky grumped as Avi made a noise. “Yeah, fuck John.”

“Buck!” Y/N slapped his arm. “Quit using grown up words in front of the baby!”

Bucky laughed as he moved away from her when she tried to swipe at him again. They all sat at the table and ate dinner, talking about their days and what was on the schedule coming up in the next week.

“What are you doing next Saturday?” Bucky asked, trying to sound nonchalant.

“Uh…nothing. Why?” Y/N asked, finishing her bite of food.

“Well, I may or may not have asked my parents to watch Avi that night,” he said, not looking at her.

Y/N’s eyes narrowed at him. “Okay?”

He then leaned forward on the table and looked at her. “Would you like to go on a date with me?”

Y/N’s eyes widened, her eyebrows raising and a smile pulling at the corners of her lips. “A date?” Bucky nodded. “You and me?” He nodded again, a smirk forming on his lips. She paused as she looked at him, her smile widening. “Yeah…okay.”

Bucky’s smirked deepened and he looked down at the table. “Awesome. Wear something comfy.”

A week later Bucky’s parents showed up to watch Avi. They shooed Bucky and Y/N out the door, shutting it firmly for good measure. “Jeez,” Y/N scoffed. “Well, where are you taking me, Buck?”

“The next town over,” Bucky said as he opened her passenger side car door for her. She got in and they drove off. After about 35 minutes of them talking he pulled up to a massage place.

“Oh my god,” Y/N sputtered as he helped her out of the car. “Is this a spa night?”

“Damn right,” Bucky replied, holding her hand and pulling her inside.

They were ushered into a room where they were given the run down of the couples package. When they were left alone Y/N turned to Bucky. “We’re going to get professional facials and massages, and then be left alone to…massage each other? What kind of massage place did you take us to?”

“The kind of place that believes in romance,” Bucky said, giving her a teasing look of looking taken aback. “Don’t you believe in romance?”

Y/N laughed at his affronted gaze. “Of course I do. This is just very romantic for a first date.”

“So you’re saying I have a chance at a second?” he leaned in, wiggling his eyebrows at her. She laughed again as the estheticians came in to start the facials.

Bucky had wanted a spa night for Y/N, but didn’t realize just how much she needed one until he heard all the sounds she made as they lay side by side on the tables getting the facials and massages. Her moans, groans, and whimpers were making him struggle to keep decency in front of his masseuse. When they were left alone with glasses of champagne after the couples massage they both sat up on their respective tables.

“God, that was good,” Y/N sighed as she stretched her legs and arms, holding the towel around her.

“Wasn’t it?” Bucky agreed as he kept a hold of his towel around his hips. He stood up to stretch as well and turned around to adjust the blanket on the table. When he did he heard a gasp behind him and looked at Y/N. She was staring at his back. He almost forgot about the scars from the shrapnel, and quickly turned back and sat so she couldn’t see them.

“Buck…” she stood and moved towards him. “What…?”

Bucky sighed as he let her come to him and she swerved around to see his back, her fingers softly running along one of the scars. “I’m fine, Y/N.” She looked at his face, her eyes starting to well up with tears. “Oh honey, no,” he reached up and cupped her cheek. “Seriously, I’m fine. I didn’t want to tell you because I didn’t want you to worry. I should have…I’m sorry,” he rubbed her cheek with his thumb, swiping an errant tear away.

“What happened?” Y/N said, her free hand now resting on his chest.

Bucky breathed deeply. “One of my guys stepped on a landmine.” Y/N’s eyes blinked rapidly to stop any more tears from falling, and she bit her bottom lip to stop it from trembling. “It threw me and Steve, we were both hit with shrapnel. Two of our teammates were killed. It took two surgeries but they got it all out and I was healing by the time I got home,” he finished, and moved his hand from her face to her hand on his chest. “I’m okay. I should have told you…” he swallowed and looked away from her.

Y/N took her hand away from his chest and adjusted her towel tightly around her so she could use both hands. She stepped between his legs and reached up to cradle his face in her hands to make him look at her. She looked at him for a moment, then pulled him into a hug. She held his head against her chest and her hands wandered to run through his hair that had finally grown back out to the length she liked, massaged his neck and his shoulders, and skimmed lightly down his back, tracing the scars. Bucky accepted the embrace, tucking his face into her neck as she moved her hands, his fingers gripping the towel at her back. He felt her kiss the side of his head, then his cheek, then she moved his head back and started to kiss along his jawline.

Bucky’s eyes fluttered closed as she continued kissing his face. She kept narrowly missing his lips, driving him crazy with every pass. “You came home to me,” she murmured, her lips grazing his skin.

“I promised,” Bucky whispered back, his hands gripping her hips tightly. “You are my home, honey. Always have been.”

Y/N moved so her nose skimmed along his cheek, her breath fanning his face. “And you’ve always been mine.” Then she kissed him.

It was like their night together all over again. Her kiss felled the last wall of their friendship, and blasted his last shred of sanity. He kissed her back wildly, his hands pulling her against him as if he was afraid she’d disappear. It felt so right, predestined, predetermined, that they should be together sharing this moment. Then there was a knock at the door.

“Excuse me, Barnes couple? Your time is up!”

Y/N broke the kiss but didn’t move far, still holding Bucky’s face. He sighed loudly before clearing his throat. “Thank you, we’ll be out shortly!”

Y/N giggled, then briefly kissed him again. “It’s getting late, we should get home and relieve your parents.”

Bucky hung his head. “Yeah, let’s go home.”

After they got home and got Avi to sleep, Bucky entered Y/N’s room. She watched him as he slowly walked over to her. “Thank you for going out with me tonight.”

Y/N laughed and hugged him, looking up at him. “Thank you for the spa night. I really needed that.”

“You deserve it,” Bucky said seriously. “Can I take you out again?”

“Yes,” she said immediately. “I’d love that.”

“I feel like we’ve jumped a lot of steps,” Bucky laughed.

“We have. I already love you,” Y/N admitted, looking away and leaning her forehead against his chest, hiding her face.

Bucky’s heart felt like it could burst. “I’ve always loved you,” he admitted. He used his finger to lift her chin back up to look at him. “I love you, honey. I’m in love with you. You’re it for me.”

Y/N pulled back and laced her fingers into his hair, pulling him down so she could reach and kiss him. “You’re it for me.”

THE END

I hope y'all liked this one! I got a lot of comments on it being infuriating, which was great. Thank you for all the likes, comments, reblogs and follows! <3