#canes and avs left me in tears

[kadwrites]

a man with a reputation | T.S

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summary ; you cannot talk your way out of this , for the first time in your life, you're given no choice.

warnings ; angst, cursing, mild violence i guess??? , arranged marriage trope.

a/n ; maybe i'll turn this into a series? who knows, let me know what you think <3. also the accent is a mess, but im trying.

_

"no!" your eyes are wide , glassy with anger filled tears "i will not be treated like some piece of land."

"would you listen? your father and i are thinking of your future." you mother is looking at you with a stern face, sitting beside your father as you stand in front of them

"what future do you think i'll 'ave with thomas fucking shelby?" you raise your voice

"do not speak to me like that , i am your mother."

"we're old, i'm sick with god knows how many illnesses." your father speaks, his cane in his hand as he leans against it, still on the sofa

"don't start with that talk" you shake your head with a chuckle, you sniffle and turn your head away

"i don't know if i'll live another day , i am too sick to work, too sick to care for the farm, there is nothing left for me to give you" he speaks slowly with a serious voice, and it makes your heart sink "this isn't a joke or some game, i've survived the war and lived long enough to see all of you grow , but i know that my time is near, i cannot risk dying and leaving you with nothing"

your father never spoke to you like that, he was always jovial , happy.

it seems like it hits you for the first time, how much your parents have aged, how much the illness took from your father, how his sicknesses have changed him.

"celest got to marry who she chose and so did oliver and so did abraham, but i don't get to do that? i dont get to choose my own husband?" your tears start falling, your voice cracks

"i need to know you'll be taken care of , that you'll be in good hands when im dead and gone."

"and you think his hands are the good hands you speak of?" you cant help the humorless smile that graces your face, hot tears stain your cheek "you can't be serious"

"he is the most feared man in birmingham," your mother chimes in

"you are willing to sell your daughter! to some gangster!" you raise your voice again

your mother stands and faces you

"i am not selling you off, i am securing you a future, with a wealthy man, who can give you everything you can possibly want. you'll live like royalty" her words come through gritted teeth "i am not giving you away to some old pig, you're marrying a respectable man, a man with a reputation."

"a reputation? don't you know what 'appened to his first wife ? you are securing me a grave" you come nose to nose with your mother, both of you almost vibrating in anger "you are killing me is what you're doing, you're selling me off to the highest bidder"

the next thing you hear is the sound of your mother's palm against your cheek, the sound of the slap echos throughout the empty house, your head is turned, your cheek stings

your parents never laid a hand on you, even as a rebellious teenager when they caught you sneaking out the window or smoking on the roof.

your head turns slowly, eyes wide as you look at your mother, she looks mortified at her own actions,

you turn and run off and up the stairs to your room, hearing your father yell at your mother for what shes done.

at some point during the night, you had fallen asleep, but not for long. you were awake when the sun rose, your back pressed against your bed frame, looking ahead at the painting on the wall, it was a family portrait, and you were sitting on your father's lap.

you knew your sister was here when you heard the sounds of her five children, running around the house.

she knocks softly but doesn't bother to wait for an answer when she opens the door after a few seconds, she walks slowly, and sees you on the bed.

your eyes stuck on the portrait , your face almost emotionless, your tears have dried and stained your cheeks, she wonders for how long you cried, your back against the wood of the bed frame, no pillow thrown in her direction for waking you up, no annoyed words saying "you couldn't fucking come in the afternoon?" . the curtains are parted, letting the light in, which is very unusual for you.

you hear the bed creek under her weight when she gets on it, laying next to you

"i heard about yesterday" she says softly, her head turned to look at you

you only glance at her , but your head doesn't turn, then you look back at the portrait

"they're doing this for you, they want whats best for you." she's not sure if it is you she's trying to reassure you or herself , this wasn't ever supposed to happen.

her little sister was supposed to marry a man she wanted, a simple man, a man capable of love

you hum, or you make a sound at least , acknowledging her.

"he isn't all that bad, you know."

a weak chuckle escapes you at her words "in what world is thomas shelby not a bad person?" your voice is hoarse , from screaming and crying all night long no doubt.

"he can give you a good life."

"ya 'ave a good life don't you? with the man you chose, the man you love." your gaze doesn't move, still staring at the painting "its not fair, you lot got to be happy, and i don't."

"ya don't know that." her voice is full of sympathy or maybe pity, you didn't want to know.

you finally turn to your sister, "do you honestly think that i can be happy with 'im ?"

your sister hesitates , she licks her lips "he's a powerful man."

you chuckle at that too "that tends to 'appen when you're a gangster."

"i tried with them, i really did." her voice is weak too, it cracks.

your eyes well with tears again, you didn't know you could even cry anymore "i know..." your voice is a whisper

you knew she'd be against it, she wouldn't agree, maybe oliver would tell you to consider it, abraham would too, just to please your father.

but celest wouldn't

"what are ya goin' to do?" she whispers back, her tears start rolling too

"what can i do?" you ask "i dont 'ave any other choice"

she looks at you as if she didn't expect that. you were always stubborn, always talking your way out of anything you didn't want, you always got your way with your parents, thats what she taught you.

but this time, you don't want to fight back.

"you're goin' through with it?"

"i cant live knowing i disobeyed my father's dying wish."

your father was sick, and getting worse everyday. you were a stubborn woman, but the little girl inside of you couldn't bear to disobey her father.

celest wraps an arm around your shoulder, holding you to her chest, her hands runs up and down your arm , like she did when abraham would bother you to tears, or when oliver wouldn't let you play with him.

"at least he's easy on the eyes, eh?" she tries desperately to lighten the mood, her lips pressed to your forehead

" hes old." you say with a weak laugh

"hes older, not old." she corrects, with a laugh too.

#tommy shelby x reader #thomas shelby imagine #kadwrites #tommy shelby imagine #thomas shelby x reader #thomas shelby fanfiction #tommy shelby fanfiction #peaky blinders fanfiction

[truglori]

Homebody (Ch.6)

Summary: Amiyah is the younger sister of local drug dealer (Durkio). Shy and reserved she keeps to herself and stays out the way. But lately she began to find interest in his right hand man/ best friend (Erik Stevens). Wanting to get him to notice her she discovers that he already had her wrapped around his finger without even trying! There was only a few problems that kept her away from her fantasies , her brother that controlled almost every single breath she took and would kill anyone who looked at her that way and lastly Eriks girlfriend, Alexis , who they called the queen of the hood according to her lavish lifestyle as well as being with the next newest top boy in the making. While Alexis was his girl to the streets all Amiyah wanted to do was be his Homebody...

Sidenote: I’ve been hooked on this song and feel like it fits the vibe for this chapter but it is optional to listen to...enjoy!

Pairing: Erik Stevens x Thick OC

Warning: Language, smoking, freaky thangs..

Erik glanced at the digital clock in his car. It was almost four in the morning. The job was done and with the help of Cane they were able to get out of there in one piece. Shaking his head he laughed to himself. He still couldn’t believe it when he saw Alexis with Shawn.

It wasn’t hard to believe but it did fuck him up a bit. In reality Erik didn’t know why he was surprised. After getting to know about Alexis he knew she was always chasing the next bag. Even if it meant coming up off of another nigga.

Out of the nine months they messed around she was always the one pressing him to take their relationship to the next step. She was the one that tried to tie their names together in the streets. It was always her putting forth the effort. Then it was shit like what he saw tonight that had cause Erik to have trust issues.

But was that something he could even judge her for? Of course not. He didn’t put a title on her and vice versa. All this did was make him come to the realization that she was never down for him. Only what he could do for her.

With all of these ideas going through his head the last thing Erik wanted to do was be alone. His mind was filling up with negative thoughts. Mainly about how the situation could’ve went bad if he would have acted on his feelings. Erik’s mood switched and he wanted to see the one person who he knew could change that.

Hoping she picked up,Erik sat nervously as the other end of the phone began to ring. If she didn’t answer he would have no other choice but to drown himself in a few blunts and a fifth of Hennessy.

She answered on the fourth ring.

“Hello.” Her soft voice came through the speaker. It sounded like she was wide awake.

He relaxed in his seat feeling a relief. “What you still doing up?”

“Couldn’t sleep. What about you? Everything okay?”

Erik could hear the worry in her tone. He half smiled. That was something she always did, she cared about him.

“Yeah I’m good.” He paused. “Listen I know this might be a stretch but do you think you could sneak out pass your brother and come meet me. I know it sounds-“ Erik was rambling. Something he never did.

Amiyah cut him off with a light giggle. “Erik I could meet up with you. I’m not at my apartment I’m staying with a friend.”

Erik’s brows drew together with a slight look of confusion. It was four in the morning and she wasn’t home. That was the first Erik ever heard of knowing how his friend is about his sister. But he didn’t ponder over the thought.

“Okay well send me the address and I’ll pull up.” He put her on speaker waiting for her to reply as he pulled up the gps on his phone.

“65 Lafayette Ave.” Amiyah answered with a controlled smile. Not wanting to seem eager to see him.

It was a fifteen minute drive from where Erik was.

“Alright I’ll call you when I’m there.”

“Okay, see you Erik.”

“Aight mamas.”

Amiyah jumped off the couch and crept to her friends bathroom. Turning on the light she saw her appearance and immediately cringed. Her eyes were still red and puffy from her tears. Face covered in faint runny eye liner. Her hair was fuzzy and wild. She was in no condition to go see Erik the way she looked.

Grabbing a face cloth from her friends cabinet she ran it under warm water before sitting it on her face and letting it rest against her skin. Amiyah sighed at the sensation. Wiping her face she made sure she got every inch of coverage before she checked other areas of her body to make sure she smelled fresh.

She gave her hair a few pass overs with a brush to make it at least somewhat presentable. Glancing over herself in the mirror she felt satisfied and exited the bathroom. Going back to the couch she was crashing on she put on a white tank top and paired it with a pair of grey sweats. Throwing a jean jacket on she slipped on her UGG slippers and waited silently.

When her phone rung this early in the morning she thought it would be her brother calling to apologize but instead it was Erik. She knew for sure it was her mind playing tricks on her but when she answered and heard his voice butterflies filled her stomach. After the date Amiyah figured she had to wait until she seen him in person again to make contact with him but when he called asking her to hangout this later she couldn’t decline.

It wasn’t too long before her phone lit up with a text notification. Erik was letting her know that he was waiting for her outside. Getting up and checking her face one last time by the mirror Kelley had next to the front door she flipped her hair over her shoulder and snuck out the front door. When she got on the porch she seen his Infinity waiting in the middle of the street unbothered with any traffic coming through.

She watched as he got out but stayed by his vehicle. Doing a quick glance over at his face Amiyah noticed the stress in his eyes. It was as if they were filled with the emotion of hurt. No wonder he called asking to see her this late. He needed comfort. Walking up to him she went straight for a hug. The way he taught her. She wrapped her arms around his neck as he did her waist.

Amiyah felt him breathe out an air of ease. His body slouching over on hers and she would let him as long as he wanted just to take away his troubles. She closed her eyes as they quietly embraced each other’s body. It was a comfortable silence. From the way they held on to each other it was obvious that they very much missed one another.

“Why you so good to me ma?” Erik whispered in her ear not letting her out of his hold yet.

Speaking truthfully in their current position of vulnerability she replied. “Because I care about you. I want you to be happy.”

Erik closed his eyes hearing the words escape from her mouth. She was making it hard for him to keep up with his ‘not trusting women’ demeanor. The way she was holding onto his body had him rethinking himself. Her nails grazing lightly on the back of his neck was driving him insane. She knew all the right things to say and do to him without even trying.

Amiyah had him open whenever they were together and she didn’t even know it. Erik finally released her body. Now staring down at her soft round face he couldn’t help himself. Dragging his hands over her love handles he pulled her towards him as bent down giving her two pecks on her lips softly. Her arms still wrapped around his neck. When Erik pulled away he seen that her eyes were still shut. Biting his bottom lip he went back in giving her a full kiss this time with a slight pull on her lower lip every now and then.

Feeling himself in the moment his hands traveled resting above her ass. Not wanting to disrespect her he asked in between indulging in her lips and taking breaks to get air for her permission.

“Can..I..touch..it?” His voice spoke lowly between pecks.

Amiyah nodded while she brought her left hand down to his cheek. She was getting better since their last kiss and her body was becoming more comfortable with his.

Seeing that she didn’t deny him access his hands continued their adventure further south. When his hands finally reached the bottom of her soft flesh he cuffed and squeezed each cheek firmly before caressing it to soothe the slight pain he may have caused.

Amiyah moaned in his mouth from the feeling. It was the first time she was ever been touched like that by a man down there. His hands felt rough but soft at the same time. The way he would grip each ass cheek and pulling on them she felt her second pair of lips separate from the action. But it was the way he rubbed it after he squeezed them that made her drip with anticipation.

Pulling away from each other they were able to get some air. By this time Erik was ready to devour her and make her body shake beneath his but he knew she wasn’t ready for that yet. She wouldn’t know how to act or what to do if he gave her what his body was craving to do to her. Feeling his dick on semi-hard he shifted himself. All of this just from kissing and touching on her. Erik wanted her bad.

“Let’s go get out of here?” His voice broke the sexual tension.

Timid and nervously looking back at her friends house she turned to face him.” To go where?”

Erik shrugged his shoulders.” I don’t know I’ll find something. Just ride with me.” He spoke before he could think finding himself doing something he thought he would never do.” Please.” He begged.

Biting her lip to hold back her smile she nodded as her hands fell from around his neck but not before getting a feel of his sturdy hard abs through his shirt. Erik felt the slick action and smirked.

“Aight let’s go.” He kissed her one last time and then patted her butt and walked her to the passenger side. He opened her door and watched as she got in safely.

Inside the car they rode around with nothing but Erik’s playlist playing lowly in the background. Amiyah’s hand rested in his right hand as his left hand gripped the steering wheel driving. Every other minute Erik would bring the back of her hand up his lips and kiss it while still paying attention to the road. No matter how many times he done it Amiyah would blush every single time. If she was lighter you would definitely see the redness in her face.

It was about twenty minutes later when Erik found a secluded area underneath the highway bridge . Around them was nothing but empty parked construction trucks and signs to let people know that work was getting done. Nearby that was a small basketball court where some of the city kids would play on. Then there was the lights from the bridge above that gave them somewhat of a illumination in the car.

Shutting the car off Erik leaned his seat back with his electric lever before resting against it. His fingers still intertwined with Amiyah’s. He watched as she did everything but look in his direction. Erik could read her body language and see that she was nervous. His thumb stroke the back of her hand to give her some reassurance.

“You okay?” He asked softly.

“Yeah. I’m good.” She gazed down in her lap before making eye contact.

Amiyah was nervous. How could she not be with her being in a closed off area with a man as fine as Erik sitting next to her holding her hand. He was touching her so tenderly. Her body reacted to each stroke of his fingers.

“Miyah if you not comfortable don’t ever hesitate to tell me. I care more about your security in your safety than me wanting to chill with you.” His unselfish nature was revealing itself with every word.

She smiled at his kindness. “I feel safe with you. It’s just some times you make me nervous.” She replied picking at the imaginary cotton lint on her sweats.

His lips curled into a smile. “Why I make you nervous?” He asked as his free hand swiped down his waves repeatedly.

Rolling her eyes Amiyah knew this question was coming next. He knew exactly how he made her nervous. The evidence clear in how her body react to him.

“I don’t know maybe it’s the way you look at me.”

There was something about being alone in this car with him that made Amiyah real honest.

His eyes danced up and down her body. Amiyah caught the gesture.

Smacking her lips. “See it’s you doing stuff like that.” She blurted out with a straight face.

He gripped her hand lightly when she made him laugh. To Erik most of the women he been with in the past was either too serious or boring but with Amiyah she was always able to get a smile out of him. From any tiny thing she did naturally it made him laugh or at least get him to smile.

“I mean I could think of something that might have you relaxed a little bit but I’m not sure you even mess with that type of shit.”

She looked at him confused.” What you mean?”

“You smoke?” He asked bluntly.

She laughed. “I’ve done it a few times when Durk wasn’t around but I’m no pro.”

Erik nodded his head head releasing her hand as he went to his middle compartment pulling out his stash. He needed a blunt after today and the one that he already had rolled up wasn’t going to do him enough justice. Taking out the one that was pre-rolled he handed it to her.

“Hold that.”

She grabbed it bringing it to her nose smell the rolled plant. Amiyah liked the way this weed smell. It wasn’t overpowering like the one Durk usually had. She observed the blunt giggling about how fat it was.

“Why is it so big?” She asked laughing.

“What the blunt or something else?” His lips smirked.

Amiyah figured she walked herself into that one. She rolled her eyes.

“No I’m just messing with you that’s just how I like mine. Can’t be fucking with no skimpy blunts now.” He smiled. Over in his seat he was rolling up two more.

After getting them rolled he grabbed his lighter from his cup holder and sparked it up. Taking a deep pull with his lips he allowed the smoke to invade his lungs for five slow seconds before exhaling. His body leaned back becoming relaxed.

Amiyah watched as he took another. He looked so good right now in his most laidback state. One hand behind his head and the other holding the blunt to his lips. She bit her lip as the smoke filled up the car. She was already feeling a contact high.

He handed over the lit blunt and watch her grasp it with the end of her nails. Erik smiled as he sat quietly watching her switch the blunt between both hands trying to get comfortable with it.

“Don’t burn my weed out.” He joked.

“Shut up Erik.” Amiyah giggled taking her first hit.

Coughing she realized she hit it too hard. Turning towards her window her balled up fist went up to her mouth as she coughed her lungs out before smacking on her chest. She handed the blunt back to Erik who was laughing.

“You good?”

She shook her head and cough one last time. Her eyes watering a bit from all of the straining.

“Damn I should’ve warned you first. My bad baby.” His hand went to her back and rubbed it.

Amiyah was already feeling high. If it wasn’t from the huge hit she took than it definitely had to be from the gas that filled the car. Her baby lungs not used to the intoxicating aroma easily gave in. She expected that to happen but she didn’t expect for her pussy to become wet. The last few times she smoked alone it just gave her a quick high and the munchies. This was different. She could feel her pussy drip and become sticky as she squirmed around in her seat trying to hide it.

The blunt found its way back to Erik’s lips. His eyes began to get lower with every hit that he took from it. He wasn’t his highest but he felt his body getting comfortable. His leg slightly rocking from side to side. He watched her body respond to the weed. She was already gone and he knew it. Erik seen her squirm in the seat and watch her thighs clenched together.

“This shit make you wanna fuck, don’t it?” No longer responsible for the words coming out of his mouth he let the burning ashes fall into the ashtray. He started up the second blunt.

Amiyah surprised from his statement but turned on at the same time giggled as her boldness level went up the more intoxicated she became.

“Something like that.” She stared in his low eyes with hers.

She was becoming brave. Her mouth was definitely trying to write a check she couldn’t cash. Even though she never had sex before Amiyah still knew what it felt like to be horny. Her body was craving for him touch her and hold her the way he did a while ago when they were outside. Amiyah wanted his big hands rubbing on her booty the way they did before.

Erik sucked in his bottom lip. His deep dimples showed from the action. She was testing him. Erik was definitely pressed from the way she was looking at him. He knew that there was no way he could fuck her in his car. But he wanted to badly. He wanted to have her dripping cum right on his leather seats. He wanted to watch her tremble and moan as he stretched her tight pussy out pinning her down by her thick thighs giving her what she thought she could handle. Erik longed to dig deep in the pussy as he hit the spots that’ll make her cry and gave her no choice but to come back to him every time she desired for them to be touched.

Taking a pull from the second blunt he returned the gaze. The smoke leaving his lips going into the direction of her face. He watched her bite her lip.

“You lookin like you wanna do something now.” He had to start applying some pressure to put her back in her place.

Shyly looking out the windshield Amiyah laughed. The weed was making her extra giggly for no reason. But she couldn’t deny that how she was feeling was from her own lust as well. She felt a warm hand grab her by the chin turning her head back in her previous direction. Erik was looking at her waiting for to respond.

“Maybe I do.” She replied with her eyes shifting down to the bulge in his black joggers she noticed a while ago. She was no longer playing it safe.

Erik’s hooded eyes followed hers. He smirked. The hand that was holding her chin swiftly went to her throat. He massaged the flesh delicately. He couldn’t help it, grabbing a woman’s neck became a kink of his not to long ago. The way that they would instantly get wet and go into submissive mode turned him on and Erik could easily tell that she was one of those that got turned on by it as well.

Amiyah felt her pussy throbbing. His hand around her like that made her panties moist. She loved it most when he gripped giving her a light squeeze. Her nipples hardening poking through her shirt as she moaned.

“Get in the backseat then.” He released her.

Her eyes gave a quick glance towards the back before looking at him.

“Now?” She breathed out heavily.

“You scared mama?” He teased her softly.

Sending him a ‘yeah right’ look she climbed to the back. Taking off her jean jacket she sat it in the front before she folded her arms resting her back against the chair.

Erik watched through the rear view mirror. He was actually surprised that she had the courage to go back there. Taking the last blunt and lighter he got out the car and opened the back door slipping inside. Putting the objects in his hand in the pouch behind the driver seat he took off his hoodie revealing a black wifebeater shirt.

Amiyah sitting on the opposite side calmed her nerves. She mentally thank God that she shaved down there two nights before. She did not want the first time she allowed a man to see her down there to be met with a bush. There was nothing wrong with having hair but she would have been insecure about it.

After getting settled Erik turned his body sideways. He reached behind him locking the door as he leaned against it.

“C’mere.”

Nervous but eager Amiyah shimmied her way to his side. His hands helping her out guiding her to sit down on his lap facing him. He gripped on her thigh throwing it over his legs so she can straddling him and had the other hanging off the seat. Not wanting to put all of her weight on him Amiyah put the pressure on her legs.

Erik sensed this. He opened her legs wider which caused her to sit on him fully. An inward growl went through his lips as he felt the weight from her ass sitting on his heavy member.

“Erik I’m too heavy.” She complained.

“You think I’m worried about that?” His voice dripping with lust as he attacked her neck.

Erik’s hands went to groping her body. He kissed and sucked until he discovered the spot that made her body shudder. It was under her jaw line. He stayed there sucking on the area leaving a mark not giving a damn about her brother being able to see it later.

Amiyah’s wide hips wiggle around on top of him as she threw her head back giving him better access. Hormones going out of control she couldn’t stop her hands from traveling to his print as she gripped it firmly.

Erik’s body jumped as he grabbed her hand taking it off his dick. He pulled his lips from her neck to observe her. The way she tried to put her hand back on him she looked anxious for some way to release the sexual adrenaline taking over her body. Erik chuckled as he held her wrists strongly.

“Damn baby you can’t be gripping my dick like you tryna snatch that shit off my body.” His voice now raspy from the smoke session.

Embarrassed, Amiyah bent her head down hiding it in his neck. Of course she would grip him too hard. She didn’t know what she was doing. Trying to not seem like the amateur she was ended up having her looking stupid. The moment was ruined.

“I’m sorry.” She mumbled.

“Here I got an idea. Turn around.” He rubbed her back waiting on her to move.

Following his command she changed her body to go the other way. She was now sitting between his legs with her back against his chest. Thankfully his seats were big enough to hold the both of them comfortably in that position.

Amiyah felt his fingers tug at the hem of her sweats. Questionably glancing at him she wondered what he was about to do to her next.

“You trust me?” Erik asked with his face next to hers.

“Yeah.”

“Then lift up and take these off.” He tugged again.

Hesitant Amiyah allowed him to pull the clothing down with her help kicking them off her ankles. Now she was exposed. In nothing but her tank top and black cotton hipster panties she felt the air brush over her thighs. Feeling her high start to come down she requested to start a new rotation.

“Can we light the last one?”

“It’s in there.” Erik pointed to the pouch where he put the lighter and the blunt in.

Reaching inside she felt around before she retrieved it. As she lit the blunt she felt Erik kiss on her neck and rub on her thighs. His full lips making her moan and rest her body on his. Taking a hit from the weed with ease this time she was able to inhale it much smoother. Her lungs filled up as it brought her back to cloud nine.

“Here you go.” She passed it to him but he didn’t take it with his hands. Erik leaned forward and let her place it in his mouth. Holding it for him as he took a few pulls she studied the way he did it and then proceeded to copy him when it was her turn. The rotation went like that before it was finished.

Erik fondled her thick thighs. Starting on the outside and working his way to the inner where her warmth resided. She laid her hands on top of his to have some sort of control but Erik didn’t like that. He knew what he was doing and didn’t need any help.

“Move ya hand.” His voice barked.

Her hands left as quickly as they met his.

“Don’t touch anything unless I tell you to. You hear me?”

“Okay.” Shakiness in her voice as her breathing picked up.

“Okay what?” He gripped underneath her knees pulling her thighs apart roughly.

“Okay Erik.”

“Un uh. It’s daddy when it’s just me and you from now on.” His lips tickled her ears as he spoke giving her future reference.

“Kay, daddy.” She moaned.

Amiyah closed her eyes. Her body kept squirming around. She was waiting and anticipated on getting her body played with. When her legs opened she felt the cool air reach her damp underwear.

Looking down between her legs he bit his lip seeing her phat pussy showing through her panties. The lower lips spilling out on the sides as the damp wet stain sat from her natural essence. His hands gripped and rubbed the inner thigh area that was closest to her treasure as he asked for her permission once again.

“Can daddy play in this pussy?”

Her wet lips parted. Amiyah nodded her head that was leaning back in his shoulder. Yearning his touch and super horny out of her mind she’d allow him to do whatever he wanted to her.

“Yes daddy.” Her voice was as soft as angel.

Hearing her words of confirmation Erik’s hand introduced itself to her pussy for the first time. He cupped the area. Her covered mound was giving off a heat that let him know that she was ready. His fingers grazed up and down the thick slit which caused her body to jerk. He did this repeatedly to make her aroused.

“Phat ass pussy.” We’re the only words that escaped his lips as it left him mesmerized. She was the first female he been with that had one so full and healthy. It felt amazing on his hand even if he wasn’t touching it quite yet.

Pulling the black piece of cloth to the side Erik revealed her vulva that was covered in her natural juices. Taking his fingers he used her lubricant swiping up and down the slit feeling her body tense up.

“Relax mama.” He kissed behind her ear as he held her in place with his left arm.

Bringing his other arm around her he reached down spreading the thick lips as a clear string of liquid appeared when the flesh pulled apart. This was a different type of wetness he was experiencing at the moment. Taking the pad of his middle finger of his free hand he patted on the bud that was now hardened.

Amiyah’s hips jerk from the sensation. Her hand clutched his forearm to stop him, keeping the foreign feeling from over taking her body. Her legs moving around as she scooted into his chest.

“Don’t you play with this pussy when you alone?” He asked as his finger tips teased the areas around her clit.

“Yes.” Eyes still closed with her hands gripping his arms as she felt every stroke of his hand.

“Yes, what?” He corrected her.

Sucking in her bottom lip. “Yes, daddy.”

“Then let me have a turn.” One of his hands grasped her fupa affectionately pulling her body into his to make her relax.

Whe she laid back Erik was able to get a better view. He spread the lips open once more. Massaging her clit lightly in a circular motion with his pointy and middle fingers. He watch her thrust her hips on his hand to feel more. Keeping up with his movements he pressed down firmly stimulating the bud before he let a finger enter her tight wet opening. Giving a low groan he drew in his top lip when he felt her grip him him from the intrusion. The pussy was too tight.

“Damn you ain’t been letting nobody up in this huh?” He cooed in her ear pushing further with a single finger going deeper.

“Unh Uh.” Amiyah whimpered out snapping her thighs closed when she felt him slip inside her.

He took the hand that wasn’t trapped between her legs and opened them. Bringing it up to her chin he made her look him in the eye. “Ima go slow..ight.”

Amiyah nervously agreed. There was plenty of times where she masturbated but she never fingered herself only clitorial stimulation. So when she felt Erik push his finger inside her, her body reacted by closing her legs. It was strange feeling but it made her wetter.

Erik didn’t waste no time as he warmed her up by playing with her clit. He wanted to make sure she was as wet as possible before she experienced any penetration so he continued to rub her there. Bringing his fingers up to her breast he flicked her nipples with his thumb through her tank top to help her climax.

The combination had Amiyah’s chest heaving up and down. She was close and ready to cum. The pressure he applied on her clit felt so good. Her hand reached for the seat clawing the material as she let him make her body come undone. Her mouth opened as her pants and whimpers became audible.

“Daddyy...I’m cumin.” She whimpered softly backing away from the stimulation.

Erik followed not letting up on her. “Lemme see you cum then. Pretty ass.” He kissed her blocking out her moans.

Amiyah’s body shook as she felt his lips. She came right there. Essence dripping down on the seat in front of her. It was like a domino effect. He controlled her body. Her clit was now sensitive but Erik continued to knead the button. Whenever she played with herself she able to get one and that’s it. She never tried to do more than that but Erik was pushing her for another.

“I want another one and then I’m done.”

His eyes were still red and low from the weed. When she came on his fingers Erik was captivated from the sight. The way her lips parted. How she grasped onto the seats searching for something to hold on to. It made his body heat up with excitement knowing that he did that. Every little thing he observed had him becoming fascinated with her.

This time he wanted to make her cum a different way. His middle finger danced around her hole making sure it was coated from her wetness before he pushed inside her tight puss. Erik felt her clench on his finger as he gently massaged her walls. Every time he would pull out she would suck him back in. He watched her face contort no longer able to control herself.

“Mm this shit tight.” He groaned affirmations in her ear as his finger stroked her at a steady pace.

When the words left his mouth Amiyah glanced down to witness his assault on her pussy. Her body was aching for more. The in and out motion with just a single digit wasn’t enough. Her pussy wanted to be stretched.

“More.” She pleaded spreading her legs wider.

“You sure?” Erik asked wanting her to be certain.

“Yess.” Amiyah stuttered.

Drawing his fingers up to lips he opened his mouth tasting her sweet juices. Erik bit his lip feeling a strong urge to bend her over and eat her from behind. But right now it was about her. He had her body feeling good and he wanted to keep it that way.

After getting his fingers soaked he placed them back in front of her pussy. Taking his time he slowly thrusted both his middle and ring finger in stretching her creamy hole.She was so wet a sloshing sound came from her opening. Her jaw dropped as he filled her up. His thick fingers moving in and out. When he felt the spongy area at the top he swiped back and forth against it using the ‘ come here’ motion.

Her hips doing the same as before began to scoot back away from the sensation. Erik holding her by her waist kept her still.

“Stop runnin and put that pussy on me.” Lips sucking on her neck creating another passion mark as his deep voice muttered.

She was running. From the minute Amiyah felt him tapping on that spot that she didn’t know was there she wanted to escape his hold. His strong hand kept her spread eagle by her knee making her take the pleasure he was giving to her. Feeling her legs shake from his repeated tender abuse she grabbed his hand. Her belly began to tighten and cramp. Soon the vibrations she felt on her lower half traveled throughout her whole body. She was convulsing on his fingers.

“Fuckk.” The profanity spewed out her mouth for the first time as she squirted on the seat.

Erik continued attacking her g-spot before she aggressively pushed his hand away. Laughing he saw her shaking her head while her hands went to her thighs to try and stop them from trembling. Her breast moving up and down from her rough breathing as she finally spoke.

“No more.” Her voice quivered.

Erik’s low chuckled filled the vehicle . “You done mama?”

Quickly nodded her head she cover her pussy with her panties and moved to the other side of the car. She was sensitive and overstimulated. Her body couldn’t endure anymore.

“I can’t Erik. It’s too much.” Sitting on her knees she slapped her hand on her thighs that were still shaking.

“Ight fine I’m done. But come give me a kiss.” His lips smirk satisfied with how the night was ending.

Amiyah complied with his orders. Straddling him again this time not feeling insecure she leaned and gave him a kiss. His mouth dominating hers lips. Erik slapped her left ass cheek leaving a sting. She moaned into his mouth.

“Ouch daddy.” She whined softly as she sucked on his bottom lip lightly before releasing it.

Erik’s dick jumped. “I’ma give you something for that mouth if you keep using it like that.” His eyes studying her lips.

Blushing she laid on top of him. Her head in the crook of his neck. Amiyah closed her eyes when she felt his fingers making traces on her back. They both held each other enjoying the peaceful silence. Wiping the condensation off the window Amiyah peered out noticed that it was dawn. The sky began to turn blue as the sun slowly crept up. She sighed when she realized that she had to work later on that day. Thankfully Kelley agreed to switch shifts with her but she wanted to be with Erik all day.

“I don’t wanna go to work today.” She stressed blowing out air of frustration.

“So don’t. Call out.” Erik rubbing circles on the small of her back.

“I can’t. I switched with Kelley already so I don’t think she would want to do both of our shifts. This is so annoying.” Her nails outlining shapes on his neck.

“Oh. I’m sorry.” He bent down kissing her forehead.

She smiled lifting her head to kiss his lips.

The question she had been meaning to ask him since they first saw each other tonight came to her mind.

“Why’d you call me so late? Is everything okay.”

Erik completely forgot about the previous events that happened hours before. The moment she was in his arms nothing else mattered anymore.

“Yeah, I just found out about some shit and I wanted to take my mind off of it and you helped with that.” He sent her a half smile pinching her chin gently.

Amiyah gleamed knowing she could be his peace whenever he wanted to get away.

“Well I’m here for you always.” Her eyes giving a sparkle as she spoke.

Meditating for a moment before he replied Erik thought carefully. He wanted to make sure that he wasn’t doing this to make her some type of rebound but because genuinely cared about her. He didn’t want to take a second longer as the words blurted out of his lips.

“Amiyah I want you to be mines...”

___________________________________________

Please excuse any mistakes.

SN: It’s been years since I wrote a smut scene and all of this was written in an hour and a half so please don’t judge lol.

Tag-list

@supersizemeplz @nahimjustfeelingit-writes @hearteyes-for-killmonger @curls-and-crosses @killmonger-dolan @killmongerkink @migosis @raysunshine78 @alookintohersoul @popcorn803 @just-juicee @mllover260 @kimmyblckswan2 @koriiii @tchallasbabymama @toniilaney @marvelmaree @mia-faith @adreamsublime @queen-b1 @mcdesij @vintage-pvssy @viewsfromrose @ceeverse @smuttywriter @harleycativy @callmemckenzieee @theblulife @bvssmob @everything-is-awesomesauce @xoxomyaah @19jammmy @tchallas-ikumkani-wam @suburbanblackhoe @allhailqueennel @admirehermind @themeirajay @asaani @bellanay @skylahb @toni9

#black panther #erik killmonger #erik stevens #erik x plus size reader #killmonger fanfiction #erik smut #killmonger x reader #truglori #black panther killmonger #homebody

[metinthehallway]

It’s the Most Wonderful Time of the Year

Hello! Here is a simple little 3.5k fic! I thank @goldenbluesuit for hosting this spectacular fic challenge! I love what I've read so far and I can’t wait to keep reading. Also, thank you to @lilacobscure and @arrogantstyles for beta-ing and just being...awesome. I hope you all like it. :) 

Warnings: mention of the word bloke from a non-Brit

Annie has had it. She’s holding two of her fluffiest pillows against both of her ears and has her white noise machine droning on at full volume. And she can still hear the sultry bass of Andy Williams singing his little heart out. She can hear him as clear as day, as if he were performing his very own live concert in the corner of her bedroom. Don’t even get her started on the Christmas lights. Annie had actually gone out and bought an eye mask in order to sleep, as her windows faced the neighbors front yard where Annie’s neighbor, apparently, was the sole reason their local supermarket was sold out of blow up decorations and string lights. 

Harry Styles didn’t even have a lot of real estate to work with in terms of space. But he really made every centimeter count. One morning mid-November, whilst getting her mail, Annie counted about fourteen deflated pop-up corpses staked to the frozen ground, multiple candy canes lining his driveway that were about half the size of her, and masses of tangled lights strung up across every visible square inch of his home. If that wasn’t enough, he had a carefully crafted playlist he turned on every night at eight p.m. sharp that was approximately three hours and forty-nine minutes long before it looped back to the beginning song. She thought, fleetingly, that she should invest in ear plugs.

Annie prides herself on being a patient and understanding person. The only reason why she hasn’t held a covert operation at three in the morning to mercilessly stab a hole in each blow-up, or cut every single criss-crossed wire, or even ambush her neighbor while he walks out his front door in nothing but a fuzzy pink robe and no shoes, demonstrating that universal, oh shit the ground is cold, oh shit, oh shit, jerking walk, is because he only recently moved in next door. She was not about to be the one to ask him to maybe take it easy on the city’s power source, that she also needs electricity for her home, and also how do you fall asleep with this godforsaken music?

Annie is not prideful in this moment. All it takes for her to snap is hearing, “It’s the hap-happiest season of all,” for the forty-fifth time. With a loud groan, she tears off her beautiful, beautiful down comforter and stomps into her shoes, scaring Cindy, her sleeping Persian cat, off the bed. It’s two thirty-six in the morning, she realizes in a far off thought that doesn’t seem to make it to the forefront of her brain, and makes her way over to Harry’s front door. She has the immature urge to punch a smiling Santa sat atop a sleigh filled with presents as she passes it. All the lights are off in his house and Annie doesn’t feel a bit of remorse as she raises a half-asleep arm and slams it against the sturdy oak door of Harry’s house. For a full minute, it’s silent and there appears to be no movement from behind the door. A sliver of apprehension begins to worm its way into Annie’s bones. 

There’s a better way to do this, Annie. Like, in daylight, during normal people hours. 

She starts to turn on her heel, continuing her internal chastising and also external chastising, muttering to herself like a lunatic, when she hears the tell-tale creak behind her and a porch light flickering to life. Annie stands there, her right hand over her eyes, shielding them from the harsh yellow rays. She can make out Harry’s figure, dressed in flannel pajama pants that look like they were previously crumpled on his bedroom floor, a white T-shirt on backwards and inside out, and his signature pink fuzzy robe. His hair sticks up hazardously, sort of like a halo illuminated by the bulb behind him. His eyes are puffy, brows furrowed together and indenting a line in the center of his forehead. Lips as pink as a rose purse together as nostrils flare.

“Is there something I might be able to help you with?” Harry asks, a slight lilt to his gravelly voice. It’s a polite enough question, however it holds an air of carefully restrained annoyance. For a moment, Annie thinks she would be annoyed as well if someone pounded at her front door in the wee hours of a Tuesday morning. She quickly dismisses the thought, actually raising her hand in the air and waving it off as if it was a tangible thing. Harry raises one eyebrow. 

“Good evening, well- morning, my name is Annie. I live next door, I’m twenty-two Ambrose Ave,” Annie starts. She doesn’t know why she announces her house number. She watches his eyes flick to his right where an engraved twenty-four lies, and back to hers. Annie shakes her head slightly before launching into a speech she never prepared.

“I’m here because I think the way you decorate is rude. Do you think, at all, of your neighbors? How do you fall asleep? Do you even have a job?! I never see you leave your house! Not that I’m keeping tabs, I’m just genuinely worried for your electric bill,” she continues, pausing to take a breath. “I have not had a single good nights rest since you started all of this, back in November. I have never hated the sound of Andy Williams’ voice more deeply than I do this holiday season.”

“Excuse me—,”

“Ah-ah! I’m not done, sir. Some of us are employed and have to work at eight a.m., some of us have cats that wake us up in the ass-crack of dawn anyway with their screeches and need all the sleep we can get. Do you know I had to buy a sleep mask because of you? Because of,” she pauses, a red rotating light from a candy cane passing over her face ominously as she turns around and gestures wildly to the commotion around her, “all this?”

“Can I just say—,”

“And the music. Are you eighty years old? The least you could do with this god-awful playlist is add some Mariah Carey, some Buble; even Ariana Grande has some sick Christmas tunes. The ones you chose haven’t been remastered since nineteen thirty-eight,” she finishes, eyes a little too wide, hair disheveled and falling in her face. Her hands are shaking and her heart is beating entirely too fast. Confrontation has never been Annie’s strong suit, evident of the lack of response from Harry as she cuts him off throughout the duration of her mini rant. He just peers back at her, face as still as stone as an uncomfortable silence falls between them. Frosty the Snowman rears its nasty head and Annie finds herself slowly closing her eyes and clenching her fists.

The second Annie starts to open her eyes, she hears the light closing of Harry’s front door and two locks click into place. She stands there, mouth slightly open as the early December chill works its way into her bones. She stares ahead of her and a murderous look takes over her face, cheeks red with the winter wind, lips chapped and tears starting to form on her lash line from the cold.

“What a fucking prick,” Annie mutters to herself. He can’t even respond to her? How childish. She turns around slowly, walking back through the winter wonderland, feeling defeated. She didn’t know what she expected to feel after finally expressing her thoughts, but she knew defeated was not it. 

As she crosses the threshold into her home, she thinks, maybe I could’ve handled that better. Annie prides herself on her patience. She was not patient that night.

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

Over the course of the month, Annie and Harry bump into each other way more than either of them would like. Once, when the mailman dropped off her mother’s monthly care package to Harry’s house, another when Annie had to begrudgingly ask to borrow his shovel when she found her car snowed in one early morning and a broken handle on her own. 

They’ve even begun to see each other in the aisles of their local supermarket. Annie enters the store, unsuspecting and looking for ingredients to make her world renowned charcuterie boards for a work fundraiser. She stops in her tracks and almost drops her jar of green olives when she sees a familiar head of frizzy brown hair. 

Harry is hyper-focused, reading the back of a spray cheese can. Annie tries to sneak by him and grab a box of herb filled crackers. Tries. She is unsuccessful, however, when her purse strap catches on a display and yanks her arm backwards, making her lose grip of the glass jar. Everything seems to happen in slow motion, as she watches the jar sail past Harry and hit the ground, glass exploding all over his shoes. The chattering happening around her ceases, as all of the blood in her body travels to her face. 

“Clean up in aisle four,” deadpans a nearby worker dressed in a horrid shade of neon green. He sighs heavily, murmuring under his breath that he doesn’t get paid nearly enough to be picking up all of these olives. 

Annie is mortified. She is unable to tear her focus away from Harry’s soaked suede shoes.  It’s only when he clears his throat and shifts his feet that she raises her head.

“I see… that you’ve really got a vendetta against me,” Harry scoffs, eyes trained on his feet, where the olive juice has to be seeping into his socks. No one likes wet socks. 

“That was completely on accident! I swear! Why is that display sticking three feet into the aisle anyway? That has to be a a safety violation,” Annie pushes out in a rush. There doesn’t seem to be enough air for her lungs in this store. Especially not with Harry now looking intensely at her, almost like he could see right through her. She folds under his gaze.

“It’s okay. I didn’t like these shoes much, to be fair,” Harry shrugs. 

“Really?”

“No,” Harry says. 

“Oh. Well, I can buy you a new pair. How much did you pay for those?” Annie asks, pulling out her wallet.

Harry raises a single eyebrow, the left corner of his mouth turning up and a dimple appearing out of thin air. 

“Too much. Really, it’s fine. The juice is translucent enough. I’ll just use them as house slippers,” he says. He opens his mouth to continue, but is interrupted by the loud squeaking of a bucket skidding across the floor. The neon green worker returns, a dingy looking mop in hand and a frown on his face. His free hand makes the shoo motion to Harry, starting to swipe at the floor, completely ignoring the glass scratching the linoleum that’s mixed in with the olives.

“Do you want any help?” Annie offers, stepping forward to at least pick up the larger shards scattered across the floor. The worker, whose name tag reads Roger, holds up a single pointer finger in her direction and shakes his head. Annie takes the hint, while Harry just shifts his gaze between Roger and the mess on the tiles, mouth somewhat agape. She nudges his shoulder with her own and gestures with her head for them to leave the aisle. 

Annie makes her way up to self-checkout, Harry following suit. They ring their items up in silence next to each other. They find themselves walking through the front door together, and it’s only when they’re outside in the sunshine that Harry lets out the deepest belly laugh Annie has ever heard. 

“Oh my god, my toes are so wet,” Harry says in between breaths. “Did you see the way that bloke’s vein was popping out of his neck? I thought he was about to commit second degree murder right in the condiment aisle.”

Annie’s heartbeat starts to pick up and she begins to laugh along with him. Tears form in both of their eyes and they sparkle in the cold afternoon sunlight. 

“I feel so bad! I don’t even like olives. They were just for my stupid charcuterie boards,” Annie says, laughter dying down. She sighs, wiping at her cheeks. She looks up, meeting Harry’s eyes. He looks down at her, smile fading slowly but his face still holding traces of warmth. 

“Well, I should be heading home. See you soon,” Harry bids his goodbye. Annie nods her head in his direction and turns, palming her keys and unlocking her car across the parking lot with a chirp. She unloads her groceries into the trunk and slides into the drivers seat, thinking for a brief moment about the shape of Harry’s smile. 

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

The snow outside is falling. And it’s falling hard. So heavy and consistent that the power lines are drooping underneath the weight and the electricity in Annie’s house is flickering in and out. It’s Christmas Eve and all she wants to do is sleep the night away, then sleep the morning away, then sleep the weekend away. She draws back a curtain and peers at Harry’s lawn, the usual eyesore dark and covered in a blanket of sparkling white snow.

A sharp crack and the sound of something large tumbling to the ground close to Annie’s house makes both her and Cindy jump, eyes alert and tail all puffed out. She goes to open her front door to investigate and sees Cindy dart between her legs a second too late, a gray blur running into the stormy night.

“CINDY!” Annie yells, voice carrying eerily across the empty street. She takes off after the small cat, wearing only her pajamas and a pair of worn slippers. Annie loses her immediately in the snowfall. While outside, she sees the huge tree limb that fell onto Harry’s front yard, covering a third of his decorations, deeming a good chunk of them broken. She wonders for a short second why he hasn’t come out to check on the noise. 

Annie’s heart starts to race as she tries to get a rein on her growing panic. Cindy is a strictly indoor cat, only having been outside for vet visits. She thinks of what would bring her cat back home, yelling her name sweetly and kissing her teeth loudly. She starts to walk towards the tree line, snapping her fingers and chattering her teeth. 

“Annie?” She hears her name being called out from behind her. She throws her head over her shoulder and locks eyes with Harry, standing there in his infamous robe. He’s got his face turned away from the harsh wind and his face is scrunched up in confusion. “What on Earth are you doing out here?! Are you mental?” 

“Cindy got out! I don’t know where she went. She ran in this direction. She never goes outside, I don’t know what to do,” Annie exclaims, feeling the urge to tear at her hair. 

“Who’s Cindy?” Harry asks.

“My cat! She was scared by the branch falling and snuck right past me when I opened the door,” she explains, arms crossing over her chest as the chill of the night bites at her skin. She shivers, turning back towards the trees. They look like they’re beginning to come alive.

Harry looks her up and down and comes up behind her, wrapping that godforsaken robe around her shaking frame. She looks up at him, grateful for the extra layer. He has a serious look on his face, determined with a mix of compassion, and also curiosity. Annie is suddenly relieved that she has someone with her to handle the situation with more calm than she ever could.

“Why don’t you go inside and grab her favorite treats? And a blanket she loves? Something that smells like you would be best,” Harry says, listing off the necessary items as if he’s done this before. She looks at him, a bit puzzled, and he reads her expression easily.

“Our cats growing up were professional escape artists. I’ve done this once or twice,” he lets out a small chuckle. She nods and heads towards her house, grabbing everything they need and changing into a pair of winter boots and shrugging on a coat, shoving Harry’s robe towards him. 

“I got everything. Here’s your robe,” Annie says, unable to meet his eyes. She already feels indebted to him, and they haven’t even found Cindy yet. “Thank you for helping me. I’m just… scared,” she confesses, tears starting to well up. She presses her fists into her eyes roughly as if she could stop them from falling. 

Harry just nods, takes the garment, and starts shaking the treat bag. His deep voice carries into the night more than hers did as he walks around, zig-zagging across the snow. Annie holds Cindy’s favorite blanket that resides on her bed and wraps it around her. She follows Harry, both chorusing, Cindy! Cindy, baby! Come back! It’s too cold for you out here!

They walk the perimeter of Annie’s house, keeping to the tree line, when Harry shushes her. He stops in his tracks and listens to the silent night. Faintly, from the direction of Harry’s house, comes a small mewl. He walks briskly over, slowing his movements as he gets closer in order not to scare the small Persian. 

“Cindy? Where are you girl? Come out for your mama,” Harry half-whispers, half-shouts. He’s still shaking the treats lightly, starting to open them. From their right they can hear a crumpling of plastic, a flash of gray shooting out from underneath the collapsed blow-up of Santa on his sleigh. Annie cries out in relief as Cindy comes running towards them at full speed, crashing right into Harry’s legs. He scoops her up swiftly with one hand and holds a treat out to her in his other. 

“You had me so worried, Cindy! I cannot believe you. You want nothing to do with the outside world but decide to run out into the coldest night we’ve had so far! You’re crazy,” Annie half-sobs, holding the cats face in two hands. Cindy shakes the snow out of her fur and licks at Annie’s nose. Harry watches the interaction, feeling something unfolding in his own chest. He gestures for Annie to take her cat, picking long hairs out of his robe.

“I see everything’s all in order here, I’ll just—oh,” Harry lets out a grunt as this peculiar woman collides into his body, cat trapped between the two of them and licking at the pink fuzz surrounding Harry as if she were grooming a kitten. His eyes go a bit wide, arms frozen around Annie while she releases a string of, thank you so much, you have no idea how much she means to me, you didn’t have to do this but you did so I owe you, I’m sorry for what I said that night, I’m sorry about the olive juice, thank you, thank you, thank you, muffled into his chest. His hands find themselves resting on her back, stroking up and down in a means to calm her.

“Hey, hey… it’s okay. I know what it feels like. I’m glad she was okay,” Harry soothes. Annie pulls away, and a strange longing passes through his heart. He frowns slightly and clears his throat. 

“I’m going to go to bed now, and get this little gremlin inside. Thank you so much, Harry. I really do appreciate it, more than you know,” Annie says, a bit breathless. Snowflakes lay themselves to rest upon her eyelashes, lips pink from the cold and Harry has the innate urge to tuck a piece of unruly hair behind her ear. He blinks, forcing himself out of his head.

“Really, it’s no problem. I’ll be heading in as well. See you soon, Annie,” Harry declares. Annie realizes with a jolt that Harry just said her name for the first time. She’s suddenly overheating, and gives a single nod, holding Cindy tight to her body as she walks up the few steps to her front door. Harry watches her leave, only taking his eyes off her when he can’t see her anymore. He then turns around, looking at the demolition of his lawn. He inhales deep. 

“Fuck.”

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

Harry does a double take when he sees Annie outside his home the next morning, attempting to break apart the large tree branch. 

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

For the remainder of the season, Harry and Annie spend an inordinate amount of time together. From binge-watching their guilty pleasure TV shows to roaming the streets downtown at midnight, sharing the same love for empty places. It seemed as though, somewhere in the universe, a story began to unravel itself.

As the last snowflake melts on the first stem emerging from the soft ground, Harry kisses Annie. He wasn’t even planning on it. It was like second degree murder. He found himself looking at her looking at the bluest sky, the sky looking back at her like it wanted to kiss her as well; so he kissed her first. 

#GBSxmaschallenge #harry styles #harry styles fanfic #harry styles oneshot #christmas fic #thank you for reading!

[haderberkman]

She’s Your Daughter Too

Aaron Conners X F Reader

Warnings: None

Part 2

Requested by: @blueeyed0713

Y/N knew it was a bad idea to sleep with her best friend, but she was drunk and didn’t care. Aaron suggested that they go back to his place, and she agreed to go with him.

They had an amazing night filled with passionate touches and lustful kisses, but Y/N was gone before Aaron woke up. Two weeks later, Y/N found out that she was pregnant. She was afraid of his reaction, so she cut all ties to him.

Five years later, Y/N ran through the front door of the school in search of her daughter. She had gotten a call that Avery had fallen off the monkey bars, and the nurse said that her appeared to be broken. Y/N found Avery and rushed over to her. She got down on her knees and placed her hands on her daughter’s cheeks, wiping her tears.

“Hey, sweetheart. What happened? Are you okay?”

“I-I was trying to do the monkey bars, and-and my hands slipped and I fell. My-my arms hurts.”

Avery began to cry, and Y/N pulled her into her arms, attempting her to soothe her. She kissed the side of head and pulled back, looking into her eyes.

“We’re gonna go to the hospital, and they’re gonna fix your arm. Okay?”

“Okay, mommy.”

Y/N gathered Avery’s things and helped her get into the car. She drove to the hospital as fast as she could without endangering her daughter or breaking any laws.

They arrived at the hospital, and Y/N rushed Avery inside the ER. The nurse at the desk handed her a form to fill out, and they waited for her name to be called.

About ten minutes later, a male nurse opened the door and called Avery’s name. He lead them into a little room behind the front desk and took Avery’s vitals while asking her some questions.

“So, Miss Avery, how did you hurt your arm?”

“I was trying to do the monkey bars, and I fell.”

“Ouch, I’m sorry sweetheart. Okay, if you’ll follow me, I’ll show you to her exam room.”

Y/N and Avery followed the male nurse to a room, and Y/N helped Avery get situated on the bed. The nurse said that he paged the on-call orthopedic doctor, and that he would be here as soon as could. Y/N nodded at the nurse, and he left room.

Y/N was playing with the ends of Avery’s beautiful brown hair when the door opened.

“So, I hear we might have a broken arm in here.”

Y/N turned towards the doctor, and her eyes widened as she saw Aaron standing there. He was shocked to see Y/N sitting there with a little girl clinging to her hand.

“Hey, Y/N. It’s been awhile. How have you been?”

“H-Hey, Aaron. Uh, I’ve been good. How about you?”

“I’ve been okay. Who’s this beautiful little girl?”

“This is Avery, my daughter.”

Y/N and Aaron shared awkward eye contact for a couple of seconds before he shook his thoughts from his head. He sat in the doctor’s stool, and he rolled himself over to Avery.

“Hi Avery. My name is Dr. Conners, but you can call me Aaron. How did you hurt your arm?”

“I was trying to do the monkey bars, and I fell.”

“Aw, I’m sorry, princess. Do you mind if I look at it real quick?”

Avery nodded her head, and Aaron carefully examined her arm. Y/N smiled to herself as she watch Avery and Aaron interact for the first time. He stood up and walked over to the computer attached to wall, typing some things. He looked back towards Y/N and Avery, and he lightly smiled at them.

“I believe her arm is broken. I want to get some x-rays to make sure that no surgery is needed and to prove that it is actually broken. I’m going to step out and get a nurse, and they’ll take her to get x-rayed.”

Y/N nodded at Aaron, and he slipped out of the room. Her head fell to her hands as some many thoughts began to fill her head. She shot her head up when there was a knock on the door.

“Okay, sweetheart. It’s time to get your arm x-rayed. She shouldn’t be gone for too long.”

The nurse helped Avery into a wheelchair, and he pushed her out of the room, leaving Y/N alone. There was a soft knock on the door, and Aaron reappeared into the room. He wheeled the doctor’s stool towards her, and he sat down in front of her.

“You have a daughter.”

“She’s your daughter too.”

“What?”

“I’m so sorry, Aaron. I should have told you, but I was scared. I didn’t know how you would react.”

Aaron day in front of her with a shocked look on his face. He looked up at Y/N and saw that she was already looking at him.

“Why did you leave?”

“I figured you wanted a one night stand, and I didn’t want you to break my heart.”

“She’s really mine?”

“Yeah, she’s so much like you. She’s super smart, and she loves sports. She has your beautiful eyes, and to me, she looks more like you everyday.”

Before Aaron could respond, the door opened, and the nurse wheeled Avery back into the room. Aaron stood up and wiped his eyes as Y/N helped Avery back onto the bed.

“The images should be up already, doc.”

“Thanks so much.”

The nurse nodded and walked out the door. Aaron walked back over to the computer and pulled up Avery’s x-rays.

“Her arm is definitely broken, so she’ll need a cast. Let me go get the items, and I’ll be right back.”

Aaron walked out of the room, and Y/N say on the bed beside Avery. She had and Y/N if she had a daddy, and Y/N always told her yes. Avery didn’t ask to many questions about him. Y/N decided that Avery deserved to know who her dad was.

“Hey, Av. You know how sometimes you ask me if you have a daddy?”

“Yeah.”

“Well that nice doctor, Aaron, he is your daddy. I’m so sorry for not telling you about him.”

Just as Y/N finished speaking, Aaron cane back into the room, and Avery looked at him with wide eyes.

“Y-You’re my daddy?”

“Yeah, princess. I’m your daddy.”

Aaron laid the casting items in the bed and sat down on the doctor’s stool. He wheeled over to Avery, and he smiled at her. She smiled back at him, and he began casting her arm.

“What’s your favorite color?”

“Pink.”

“Alright, a pink cast it is.”

Aaron finished casting her arm, and Avery stared at it in amazement. He stood up and threw the trash away, and he smiled at the both of them.

“So, you guys are good to go. You’ll need to make an appointment with me in about six weeks so we can take this cast off and do more x-rays. Hey, Y/N. Can I ask you a question?”

“Of course.”

“I get off soon, and I was wondering if you two would like to join me for some ice cream. I want to learn everything about her. I’ve already missed so much, and I don’t plan on missing anymore.”

“Avery’s has a hard day so I think she deserves some ice cream.”

Y/N helped Avery off the bed and watched as she walked over to Aaron. She looked up at him, and he look down at her.

“Thank you for fixing my arm.”

“It’s no problem, princess.”

“Can I call you daddy?”

“If you would like to.”

“Can I give you a hug?”

“Of course, sweetheart.”

Y/N smiled and wiped the tears that came to her eyes as she watched Avery hug Aaron. She should have told Aaron from the beginning, and she’s a idiot for thinking that he would turn them away.

Y/N was happy that Avery finally met her daddy, and that Aaron finally met his daughter. Y/N knew that this was the start of something great, and Aaron felt it too.

#bill hader #bill hader x reader #aaron conners imagine #aaron conners x reader #aaron conners #trainwreck

[keelywolfe]

FIC: Not What It’s Cracked Up To Be ch.6 (baon)

Summary: Edge and Stretch are finally getting back on an even keel. Edge’s broken leg is healing well, Spring is finally here and the flowers are close to blooming.

Be a shame if anything disturbed their domestic bliss.

Tags:  Spicyhoney, Kustard, Established Relationships, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Injury, Fluff, Chickens, Depression

Notes: As a heads up, this chapter includes a depiction of depression.

Part of the ‘by any other name’ series.

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5

Read Chapter 6 on AO3

or

Read it here!

~~*~~

By the time Edge made his way back to the car and was headed for home, Red’s prediction about his leg singing was coming true, going from an enthusiastic Ave Maria to operatic scales in no time. He was long past the doctor’s instruction of only spending two hours at a time standing and the twinges of pain were running into a constant throb.

Sitting in the driver’s seat was somewhat better. It took his weight off his aching limb and driving at idling speed kept him from having to press too often on the brake or gas pedal. Even so, when he pulled into his own driveway, Edge was sweating through his shirt and working at breathing through the discomfort. Time to get this finished and get his leg up, because re-injuring it was not going to help Stretch’s depression in the slightest.

Next to him, Nugget’s basket was carefully buckled into the passenger seat and he noted wryly that at least one of them was enjoying the journey. She’d kept up a stream of warbling chatter the entire drive that was rather reminiscent of her owner.

“All right, time to get you back home,” Edge announced. He reached over to unbuckle the seat belt, guiding it back against the seat since he didn’t trust this comedy of errors not to continue by knocking the poor creature out with a badly timed buckle retraction. “I’m sure Noodle and Dumpling will be happy to see you.”

And if they weren’t, Stretch certainly would. He hoped.

Edge took a steadying breath and climbed out of the car, grimacing as renewed pain shot up to his femur. Damn the blasted thing, anyway, he was going to have to ice the cartilage for a while and he certainly wasn’t going to be up to making anything for dinner. Asking Stretch was out of the question, which meant he might need to call for reinforcements.

Even the idea of asking anyone for help, particularly in the kitchen, made Edge’s hackles rise, but better that than having Stretch see him hurting or worse, having to go back to the doctor and admit that a mere two days after having his cast removed, he was already disobeying their instruction.

Blue would probably be the best option and of course he was certain to be so incredibly pleased about the situation…Edge cut the bitter thought off hard, dismissing it firmly as unworthy. Whatever frictions existed between him and Blue, they were still friends, and all Blue ever wanted was for his brother to be healthy and happy. Whatever issues he’d had with their relationship, he’d never tried to interfere or dissuade Stretch from it. It would be petty to hold his concern against him, even if he could occasionally be aggravating and normally Edge wouldn’t even indulge the thought. Today, though, ah, today he was tired from his broken sleep the night before, riled by his brother, aggrieved by his aching leg, and worried about his husband. If his control was running a little ragged, today of all days it could be excused.

Nugget flapped her wings, resettling into the basket and startling Edge from his thoughts. He shook his head, opening the passenger door to retrieve poultry and basket alike. He’d deal with dinner when the time came, for now he had a recalcitrant chicken to return home.

The side gate was a shorter path than through the house and Edge limped through it, leaning heavily on his cane as he went to the coop.

To his dismay, Noodle and Dumpling did not come running out to greet him when he opened the fence. Edge frowned, setting the basket inside the gate and went to check the coop doors. He’d left them unfastened that morning, but the coop itself was empty, no eager chickens to greet him while demanding pets and treats.

“Stretch,” Edge said aloud, all his worries coalescing into a hard ball in his chest as he grabbed up Nugget again and headed for the house. He left Nugget in her basket just inside the sliding glass door, trusting that she wouldn’t wander from her makeshift nest or her ‘eggs’.

The stairs were somewhat painful to navigate but worse was finding their bedroom empty, the covers thrown carelessly back. So was the bathroom, the guest room, and panic was starting to take hold when Edge fairly stumbled back down the stairs, half-ready to call his brother and demand he locate his husband, where would he have gone—

A suspiciously chicken-y sound coming through the kitchen door derailed his fears. Edge paused and listened closer, and yes, that was a loud caw coming from his kitchen, along with the skitter of scaly feet.

His relief was dizzying, leaving him leaning weakly on his cane. Edge sighed inwardly and went to the door, carefully pushing it open.

The pair from the Embassy team had done a decent job at cleaning away most of the detritus of Red’s ‘accident’ from the kitchen. They’d cleared away the broken table and chairs, cleaned up the worst of the paint, and left his kitchen if not as it was then at least usable until they had a chance to remodel it.

There by the center island was Noodle, curiously inspecting the tiles and Dumpling was on the other side, pecking lightly at the paint-dappled cupboards with great interest. Their claws clicking on the hard floor as they scampered around, inspecting their temporary quarters. In one corner was Stretch, sitting curled up where their dining room table used to be. He was dressed somewhat haphazardly, his dirty feet bare beneath the legs of his track pants and swaddled into an elderly sweatshirt washed to a faded pastel. He didn’t look up at Edge, only sat watching the chickens, a lit cigarette dangling from between two fingers. As relieving as it was to see him out of bed, Edge couldn’t help but see the stains of exhausted orange beneath his sockets were deep, an advertisement of a sleepless night followed by a restless day.

Edge stepped in further, the rubber tip of his cane squeaking against the tile and only then did Stretch look up, his pale eye lights skittering nervously back and forth between Edge’s and the floor. A cylinder of ash dropped unnoticed from the tip of his cigarette, joining a scattering already on the tile and Stretch swallowed convulsively, ducking his head as he muttered out, “i know, i know they can't stay, but i thought, just for today maybe, they can stay here and be safe, right? i thought it would be okay for one day, please don't be mad—"

“Love, I'm not angry, not at all,” Edge told him softly. The words went unheard, Stretch rambling on desperately.

“…and it's only for today and maybe some of tomorrow, i know they have to go back out, but i couldn’t stop thinking about it, i couldn’t, and i’m not fucking up again, i can’t, not today—”

“Papyrus,” Edge said, sharply, and that cut through his babble. His head jerked up, eye lights too-wide and diffused. “You didn’t fuck up the first time, listen to me—”

“i know that!” Stretch burst out. He curled up tighter, drawing his legs up, his face pressed into his upraised knees and his arms wrapped around his skull, muffling his words. “i know, there was nothing i could have done, what even could i? i’m not a fucking fox hunter, i didn’t know. my soul knows it so why does my head keep telling me i’m wrong? why won’t my head shut up, why does it always have to tell me i’m a bad friend, a bad brother, i’m awful, why am i so awful?”

Stretch’s shoulders shook, his voice going thick and wet with tears and the sound of it was ripping at Edge’s own soul like jagged claws. All right, then, if Stretch wasn’t going to let him talk, then drastic measures might be best.

Edge spun around and left the kitchen, even if his soul protested vehemently at leaving his husband weeping alone. It was a matter of moments to snatch up the chicken-filled basket and bring it in, hauling it grimly despite the warning throb in his leg. Right back through the swinging door to plop the entire thing right in front of Stretch’s bare toes.

That blasted cigarette of his was dangerously close to burning a hole in his sweatshirt, but Nugget’s happy coos made Stretch jerk upright, staring disbelievingly at the small black chicken who only tilted her head inquisitively as if to ask what was the big deal, here she was, ready to join the party.

“oh,” Stretch mumbled. The still smoldering cigarette fell unnoticed from his fingers, shedding ash as it rolled across the tile. Edge hastily retrieved it and flicked it into the sink. He turned back just as Stretch reached out cautiously, disbelieving, settling his bare hand on Nugget’s back before Edge could call out a belated warning. But perhaps Nugget was growing more accustomed to returning to society or perhaps she simply trusted Stretch more to not lift her away from her so-called eggs. She chirruped contentedly, leaning into his touch as he gasped, sockets going wide. “she…how did…you…”

“It seems she was better equipped to defend herself against the fox than we thought,” Edge told him. It seemed better to leave Red’s interference out, at least for now and likely forever. “She ran off and was nesting out in Old New Home.”

“you brought her back to me,” Stretch whispered, in pained wonderment. A fresh wash of tears fell from his sockets, pale orange trickling down, gathering to drip from his chin.

“Love, don’t—" Edge tried. He started to sit and nearly fell in his attempt, luckily unnoticed as his leg finally gave out, and Stretch only sagged into his arms, his hand still resting on Nugget’s soft feathers.

“you found her,” Stretch choked out. He buried his face into Edge’s shirt, hot tears quickly soaking through the thin cloth. “you found…” Then, to Edge’s dismay, he shuddered out, “i’m so sorry. you shouldn’t’ve had to, she’s my responsibility, i should’ve gone looking instead of making an ass out of me assuming. sorry, i’m sorry—” He didn’t resist as Edge pulled him closer, only leaned against him and kept up that whispered litany, “sorry, should’ve and didn’t. just feels like one more thing i failed at.”

Edge tightened his grip and gave Stretch a little shake, almost rough as he said fiercely, “You didn’t fail at anything, certainly not this.”

“but—"

“No. Why do you expect so much from yourself?” Edge demanded softly and he wasn’t surprised to not get an answer. “I don’t know what’s going on in that troublesome mind of yours, but I’m telling you, it’s wrong. You have a great deal on your plate just as the others do and we both know people have been keeping certain things from us because I am supposed to be convalescing and you are supposed to be helping me. So, whatever is bothering you, we can discuss it if you want or not discuss it if you don’t, but you haven’t failed at anything, do you understand me?”

Stretch nodded, but his grip on Edge was still too tight, knuckles flexing convulsively. He whispered into Edge’s shirt, his voice was barely audible. “sometimes i feel like your life would be a lot easier without me.”

Simply hearing those words forced Edge to close his sockets, breathing through the roil of frustration that lit hotly in his soul. Stretch needed his understanding, not his temper, his internal demons were doubt, not of Edge, but of himself. The automatic answer was, ‘of course it wouldn’t.’ But that would be disingenuous, a lie of the kind told to children to soothe their hurts. Stretch was not a child and he would not be fooled by pat answers.

Instead, Edge took the time to consider it. Recalled his life before Stretch, the long days of work at the Embassy and then evenings at the Y. His brother stopping in for aggravation and dinner as Edge slowly learned more about cooking than Underfell could ever teach him. Movie nights and gardening days, uncomplicated pleasures coupled with satisfying work.

“That’s true, it might be easier,” Edge conceded. He held on tighter when Stretch stiffened, trying to pull away. “But it certainly wouldn’t be better. Plenty of things could be easier, I could stay here in this house, collecting my stipend and have my groceries delivered. I could tend my garden and might never need to go out again. That would be easier, if easy was all I wanted.” Gently, he slipped two gloved fingers beneath Stretch’s chin, urging him to look up. He met that teary gaze with his own steady one as he said, “Easy isn’t happy, love, and nothing has ever made me happier than being with you.”

Because he’d learned that pleasures were better with complications, when his gardening was interrupted by unexpected hugs, when his dinners were filled with excited chatter instead of silence or sarcasm. That he looked forward to leaving work when there was someone to come home to, and that stars were lovelier when seen through the lens of Stretch’s sight.

Stretch was blinking too hard, sniffling accusingly, “you sap.”

Just like that, the pained tension in him eased and Edge let out a chuff of laughter, shaking his head.

He drew Stretch back down to his chest and reached over to take Stretch’s hand in his own, his thumb skimming over slender fingers. Stretch was wearing one of his silicon rings, not the metal band with precious stones that Edge gave him when he pledged to love and cherish him, but the simpler one given for practical reasons, in bright day-glo colors to make him smile. “You say that as if it’s a bad thing. Some time ago my brother told me I could be happy if only I wanted to. I didn’t understand what he meant at the time. You helped me understand and the only place I ever want to be is with you. You can’t fail at that, you can’t fuck that up, so long as you’re here, with me. All right?”

“yeah, okay,” Stretch sighed out. He snuggled in closer and if his voice was still tremulous, his words were stronger, “can we stay here a little longer?”

“Of course.” Edge shifted until he was leaning against the wall, pulling Stretch to lay in between his legs and holding him tightly against his chest, over the soft pulse of his soul.

The kitchen floor was designed for easy cleanup and aesthetic, not for sitting and his tailbone was already protesting. He needed to ice his aching leg, the chickens needed to be shut back into their coop, and they could both use a real nap before figuring out what to do for dinner.

But that could all wait, just a little longer.

-finis

#spicyhoney #papcest #keelywolfe #underfell #underswap #underfell papyrus #underswap papyrus #by any other name

[langdxn]

salvation part ii: giving me direction | outpost!michael x fem!reader

SUMMARY: Michael’s pregnant wife discovers the dark secrets hidden within Outpost 3.

WARNINGS: Fluff, angst, deaths, pregnancy, sorta implied breeding kink, mention of sex toys, soft!Michael and a slight timeline meddle.

WORD COUNT: 2.9k

A/N: Salvation was originally just a oneshot but you lovely lot asked for a second chapter so here we are!

part i // part iii // part iv // part v

Softly closing the stiff oak door behind you, desperate to make no noise to alert anybody to your presence on the other side, you froze stiff.

What happens now? Is Michael going to be okay? What if they’re going in there to kill him?

He instructed you to run to his quarters, but deep down he knew you wouldn’t obey instantly, at least not until you had any signal that he was safe. You took one glance down the corridor ahead of you, winding and dark compared to the golden-lit passages you’d hovered through on your way to his office, and settled for staying by Michael’s side in case he needed you.

Planting a flat palm against the weary portal you just closed, you rested your ear against the keyhole to hear inside. Gulping as quietly as you could, the clink of a cane purposefully smacking the wooden floorboards reverberated around the room.

“Ladies, I’m a little busy right now formulating my selections,” Michael muttered nonchalantly, his steely demeanour pouring through every syllable as he had somehow regained his composure in the fleeting moments before the people entered.

“This won’t take long,” a stern female voice snapped as you heard his laptop gently tap shut and Michael shuffled in his seat.

“What’s this?” He enquired with faux innocence. He already told you who was at the door, his powers let him see everything ahead of time. The only uncertainty was how much he let on to his visitors.

“We’re making the selections now, Mr Langdon. And I’m afraid you didn’t make the cut,” the female snarled as your husband’s infectious laugh interjected.

“I’m sorry, I wanted to let you have your moment but I just couldn’t hold it in.”

———

“Congratulations Mr and Mrs Langdon, you have a beautiful, healthy baby,” the kind Outpost nurse chirped, a soft-featured lady with her chestnut hair scraped back into the cleanest ponytail. Tapping buttons on the keyboard to her side, she froze the image on the screen as she removed the pad of the transducer from your abdomen.

Michael gently squeezed your hand, his strong fingers laced between your delicate digits. You’d been staring at the sonogram screen without blinking ever since the nurse pressed the sensor against your stomach, soothing the icy sensation of the gel smearing across your albeit small bump.

With another more forceful squish of your hands, you tore yourself away from the screen to meet his expectant azure eyes, both mirroring each other’s warm smiles.

“This is it, baby girl,” your husband beamed, “it’s really happening.” You felt his palms becoming increasingly clammy against yours, the reality of his imminent fatherhood starting to settle into his headstrong mind. He leaned over to place a loving, thankful kiss on your lips, much deeper than his usual pecks he reserved for situations where you had company.

Michael’s drawbridge had lowered for the last time. From here on in, he didn’t care what anybody thought. He had his wife and his child, the petty thoughts of the chosen few populating Outpost 2 faded into insignificance.

As the practitioner allowed you both your moment to process your thoughts, she rose from her chair and made her way to the door.

“Is — is it too soon to find out the sex?” You shyly perked up as a pang of regret hit you. It was an innocent enough question as you never actually planned on having children, so you never took on board any information about pregnancy, but you had absolutely no idea what to expect at what time. You were walking into this pregnancy blindfolded, both you and Michael were treading new ground. Together.

“I can certainly tell you if you’d like to know,” the medic looked expectantly between you and your husband for the go-ahead.

“As long as he’s okay, that’s all that matters,” Michael sighed.

You spluttered a nervous laugh. Cocking your head to one side and widening your eyes as you analysed his utterance, Michael nervously burst into a chuckle, a cheeky grin plastered on one side of his face.

“I’m sorry, I wanted to let you have your moment but I just couldn’t hold it in.” He jokingly rubbed his free hand over your entwined hands, desperately seeking a signal that you weren’t positively fuming that he’d spoiled the surprise.  

The nurse chuckled nervously under her breath, leaving the room with a curt bow in your direction and clicking the office door closed behind her.

“We’re — we’re having a boy?” You stuttered through blissful tears, sitting up to embrace Michael and carelessly wiping the gel on your bump onto his oxblood velour dinner jacket. You couldn’t spoil the moment for you both so you simply hoped he wouldn’t notice.

“I can see him already. A son and heir. The Langdons endure, my father’s plan is working.”

Michael smirked, the gravity of his actions suddenly dawning on him. The childhood he had would be a far cry from what he would provide for his own son, determined to show the world that a Langdon man could raise a family properly. With love. With devotion. With care.

The blissful glint in your eyes snapped him out of his nostalgia, pulling the Antichrist back into the room with the mother of his child. You reached for the paper towels the nurse had left at your side and wiped the remaining gel from your stomach, making gentle circles around the delicate home of your child. Your boy. Your prince of darkness.

“We have a new life, Y/N, our own new life,” Michael beamed. “That’s it, my darling. Death doesn’t give me as much joy as this has.” He reached up to turn your head towards him with two soft fingers beneath your chin.

“No more shall die by my hand.”

His hand dropped to meet yours, cradling your stomach and drinking in the precious moment between you. Trying his hardest not to weep in front of you, he settled for leaning his forehead to meet yours with a tender bump.

“Ave Satanas.”

———

A sudden gunshot pierced the silence, dragging you back into the room so sharply that you smacked your forehead against the door. Your heart sank, thoughts bolting through your mind of those women aiming at your husband’s heart and pulling the trigger.

Your head and heart quickly initiated a war zone between them: one side urging you to stay hidden until you have a signal that it’s safe to reach your husband; the other telling you to screw the cover and dive through the door, your concern for your husband’s life far greater than whatever threat lay beyond the wooden portal.

Your breaths sharp and your eyes popping out of their sockets while subconscious tears of abject terror coursed down your cheeks, you tried your hardest to stay quiet while your eyes darted across the door’s surface hoping to find a chink in its woodwork to peek through.

“You can come in now, Y/N,’’ you heard Michael sigh softly, reassuring you from the other side of the door.

Fumbling for the handle with a clunk, you nearly tumbled back into the room as you’d rested your entire body weight on the door. Your breath caught in your throat as your sight fell immediately on the body of a female flat out in the doorway, a redhead with a flowing dark purple coat scrunched around her and a pool of blood flowing around it.

“What the— Michael?” You gasped, spotting your husband's expensive boots stood beside the woman’s body. As your eyes crept up his body, you noticed his hands were clasped together behind his back.

“Michael, I know this woman... wait, isn’t she from — Kineros Robotics? That’s the lady from reception, the one who always wears purple, the one that threatened to kill me if I so much as looked at her!” You dropped to your knees beside her, clawing at the blood-stained white lace draped across her chest in a frantic yet vain attempt to help her.

Michael failed to respond with anything more than an emphatic breath with his hands behind his back. You looked up at him with panic-stricken eyes, desperate and lost.

“Michael, we need to help her. Do they have a doctor here?” You searched his face for any reaction whatsoever and failed. “Why aren’t you helping?”

“It’s too late, Y/N. It was her or us,” he projected, reinstating his rigid demeanour he usually reserved for everyone except you.

“But why? What did she do—“

You were cut off by Michael gesturing his hand toward the doorway, toward the stout figure of Ms Mead frozen in motion, a small gun shaking in her hand still pointing where the woman once stood.

“I don’t know why I did that,” she stuttered, staring into the distance as if she didn’t even notice you’d come in. “I was always loyal to her.”

Instincts kicking in that you didn’t even know you had, you stepped over to shield your husband with a protective arm in front of him. Michael placed a reassuring hand over yours telling you to lower your guard as Mead dropped her arm to her side.

“Y/N, I believe you and Ms Mead have met before.” He stepped forward and ushered you with a hand pressed into the small of your back.

“Yeah, we met in Kineros Robotics a couple years back. I was there when Michael had to... you know.”

———

“Whadda you mean, that doesn’t turn you on?”

You and Michael leered over a robotic arm rigged up to a desk in the Kineros Robotics laboratory. You had hours to kill while Mutt and Jeff reprogrammed Ms Mead, so you settled for entertaining yourselves with the inventions on display.

“It’s just so... crude,” Michael stifled a disapproving tut as you both gazed at the disembodied hand, balled into a loose ‘O’-shaped fist, gliding up and down with a languid motion.  

“I wonder if it gives better handjobs than mine,” you tilted your head to one side, taking in the full sight of the obscene device. Michael’s inherently sharp elbow playfully jabbed you in the ribs.

“Darling, not even a machine could surpass the talents of those lips,” he pressed a sincere hushing finger to your mouth, giggling as he curled an arm around you.

———

“I — I’m having trouble with this,” Ms Mead stammered, dropping the gun from her hand causing an empty bang to echo through the room. Michael turned to hold you by both of your elbows, his cerulean irises meeting yours with intent.  

“I think it’s best I help Ms Mead with this alone. We don’t have much time, the witches will be here soon. Please, darling, find someplace to hide. Ms Mead and I will be along soon, if anything happens beforehand, you know what to do.”

Comfortingly stroking your hands with his, Michael smiled his assertive grin that told you he had things under control. You wrapped your arms around him tightly, grateful for the chance to say a proper goodbye this time.

“I love you,” you softly whispered into the shell of his ear.

“I love you too, baby,” he cooed, taking a deep inhale of your scent as you separated for the second time this evening before you turned on your heels to swing the wooden door open.

Your stilettos clacked with purpose along the floorboards of Hawthorne. These weren’t exactly the ideal choice of footwear for sneaking around an echoing former school building with more creaking floorboards than the Haunted Mansion, you thought to yourself.

As you passed door after door down a seemingly endless passageway, you heard the faint notes of slow music calling from an adjacent room.

Michael said the witches weren’t here yet, so where was the rest of the Outpost? Were they wandering the halls like you? Were they safe? That Venable woman could have done anything while Michael’s back was turned, he was too busy talking to you when you arrived.

Surely looking to see if they were okay wouldn’t hurt, right? You could tell them you’re no threat to them and you could reassure them that Michael would protect them, you could warn them to hide just like you in case the witches came.

Taking a deep breath, you paced tentatively toward the direction of the sounds. Soft rock, you deduced. Mutt and Jeff insisted on playing slow rock for the Outposts, you were there not days ago pleading with them to play something less miserable. According to the two Kineros mega nerds, Slayer weren’t appropriate to sing the Outposts to sleep after the apocalypse.

Baby I’m-a want you, baby I’m a need you, you’re the only one I care enough to hurt about

Following the lullaby led you down a straight path to a balcony above a dimly-lit hall, a roaring fire glowing in the hearth, bookcases stacked to the high ceiling. Grasping the bannister to look down on the room below, your eyes fell upon bodies scattered across the room. Pools of bloodied vomit spewed from each and every one, their Victorian attire splattered with foam and blood. Some holding hands, some propped up on the leather couches, some laying alone. You choked helplessly.

Your feet couldn’t move fast enough to reach the tight spiral staircase leading down to them, stumbling your way down in a blind panic and risking your unborn child’s safety to get to them as quickly as you could. Reaching the floor, you dropped to your knees and grasped at the nearest body, a blonde-haired man in an elegant suit sprawled in front of the fireplace. Tugging at his cravat to uncover his throat, you felt for his pulse but found nothing.

I just can’t live without your loving and affection, giving me direction

You stumbled frantically over to the next bodies, a woman and a man younger than her, perhaps her son, laid flat beside each other. No pulses. Breaths sharp and desperate, you cried out in anguish with all the energy you had left in your lungs. Distraught tears pursued searing paths down your cheeks as your legs gave way underneath you, collapsing in a heap beside the bodies.

Steady footsteps echoed above the room at the doorway where you entered, Ms Mead’s figure appearing leaning over the bannister.

“They — they’re all dead, Ms Mead,” you screamed up to her. “Wha—why? Why can’t I help them?”

Your hands desperately grabbed at the soaking fabric on the bodies, pleading for a reaction.

“Th—this woman, I recognise her. Dinah Stevens, she’s from TV! Why? What happened?”

Lately I’m-a praying, that you’ll always be a-staying beside me

Your eyes darted around the room for any clues until you caught sight of a dark red apple in the hand of a dark-haired boy next to a leather couch, his other hand entwined with that of a girl draped over the chair.

“What the — the apples? But, but they were safe, I picked them myself from our tree in the Sanctuary. I sent these here,” your eyes widened as your thoughts skittered through all the possibilities that your fruits could have killed every one of these people.

You looked up at Mead for an answer, but she stood emotionless, braced against the bannister looking down upon the carnage in the hall.

Used to be my life was just emotions passing by

“They had to die,” Mead replied matter-of-factly. “Satan’s plan is to eradicate people like them and rebuild the new world. Michael planned it all down to the last detail. We just needed something to administer the poison, your apples were divine providence.”

“Wait, Michael did this?” You spluttered, your eyebrows knitting together and tears poured viciously from your eyes. “This, this cant be right, Michael wouldn’t do this, not anymore, not without a reason!”

“He’s the son of Satan himself, he brought about the apocalypse,” Mead reminded. “What makes you think he wouldn’t bump off a few more so our Sanctuary wouldn’t be overrun with these oxygen thieves?”

Nothing made sense anymore. You clutched your bump protectively, your eyes straining to see a way forward through this disaster, apparently arranged by your husband. A mere few months ago, he swore to you that violence would never enter his life again.

Then you came along and made me laugh and made me cry, you taught me why

You scrabbled to your feet, stumbling over the bodies to leave the hall before you threw up. Ending up in a maze of unfamiliar corridors, you battled to return to relaxed breathing, knowing full well the witches could be here any moment now.

“Find our sisters,” a female voice burst through the silence, causing you to break into a run as far away from the voice as possible.

You’d taken so many right hand turns down identical passageways, you were certain you had escaped the sight and hearing of whoever called out.

It wasn’t Ms Mead and it certainly wasn’t Michael. The witches.

Retreating down a near pitch black corridor as fast as you could without clacking your heels on the cold floor, you placed a hand flat on your bump.

“Just you and me for now, little lady. Us girls have to stick together to help Daddy with something,” you looked down as you spoke in a hushed tone, somehow comforted by the fact you had company with you on this journey.

As you stepped cautiously down the alleyway, you noticed the faint outline of an unlit sconce in a nook indented into the corridor wall. Raising a hand toward it, you muttered softly.

“Ignis.”

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

A/A/N: Tagging the wonderful @codyfernmorelikedaddyfern @psychobitchtess @theinevitableprophecy @leatherduncan @abbyjforman​ @melodylangdon @shadyrindt because I love you all! Drop a comment/message if you’d like to be tagged in future!

#ahs apocalypse #michael langdon #michael langdon x you #cody fern #michael langdon x reader #michael langdon fanfiction #michael langdon imagines

[granills]

Always there / Alex Turner

The coffee's already gone bad by now as you flicked the pages of the magazine, checking your horoscope and thinking about how on earth you could be "successful" based on just star constellations.

These days weren't new to you. Sometimes you felt bad when you were left all alone in the house. Your roommate had gone somewhere, Alex was on tour and the cloudy weather outside seemed to make you feel even sadder. Raindrops didn't want to stop hitting against your window, with every sound reminding you that you were alone. You usually loved rain, but not on this particular day when everything seemed to go against you.

You rolled up in your blanket on the couch and if earlier you could hold back your tears, now the tears burst forth, spilling down your face as if you were a little girl who'd lost her candy cane. But aren't adults the same kids? Just grown-up.

Minutes of sobbing past, broken apart by short pauses for breaths, you heard your phone was calling. The phone stopped calling right when you decided to go and pick it up already. Seeing the name on your phone made your heart melt and pound a little. You had missed 3 calls from Alex and 1 text message. Wiping the tears away you decided to phone him, but Alex always knew whether you'd cried or not and you didn't wanna let him know. While you were wondering when was the right time to call him, Alex had made it for you, the picture of him illuminating on your phone. You rushed to pick up the phone - it was a video call - and held your phone that way so he couldn't see half of your face.

"Y/n, I was worried. Is everythin' okay?" The familiar voice filled your ears, only making it worse for you 'cause you missed him.

"Yeah, everything is okay. I was cleaning the room, I hadn't heard the phone ringing." You let your hair fall over your face because you could tell it's become red from crying.

Alex smiled. "Always busy, my babeh."

"When are you coming back? Say hello for me to the boys." You forced a smile.

"Will do, darlin'. Dunno couple of days I thin'. Y/n, is everythin' realleh okay?" If he asks that one more time you might lose it and cry in front of him.

"Yeah, I told you." Why is it so goddamn hard to do the simple thing?

"Y/n, look at me." Shit.

You pretended you were busy with something and showed only half of your face to the camera. "Yeah. What?"

"Can yeh pick up the phone propelleh an' look at me?" He sounded serious. And you thought there was no point hiding that, not when you could barely hold your tears back.

Not saying anything, you held the phone opposite from you. You saw your face in a small window on the screen. He wasn't dumb, by your messy hair and red eyes anyone could understand.

"Wha' 'appened, mi luv? Were yeh cryin'? Tell me." He held the phone closer to his face like he could reach to you.

"It's nothing, Alex. Really. I was just alone here, all by myself. It happens sometimes, I feel empty and sad and so I sort of got a little..." You really tried to hold them back, you felt the muscles of your chin tremble like a small child. You thought you could hold yourself up, be stronger, but you just... collapsed. "I'm so sorry. I feel so stupid."

Alex was looking around, talking with some people. He had heard you and already decided to leave everything right then and there and get back to you. Nothing mattered to him, he knew he should be with you right now, his only wish was to get to you.

"Y/n," he went back to the phone, "Listen teh me. Go get sum sleep. Get sum sleep, I'll be the' in the morning."

"Wh- Alex?" You couldn't believe he'd just cancelled all his concerts because of you. "You can't.."

"I'll be there tomorrow, babeh, now go get sum sleep, eh?" He assured you and you couldn't say anything but nod.

The curtains added a strange glow to the morning light. The dawn sun peeked through a misty screen of clouds, painting the sky a mix of oranges with greys. You breathed in deeply. A new day has begun. Another cloudy day.

Not wanting to open your eyes, you turned your head to the side only to feel someone's touch on your face. You opened your eyes a little and saw Alex crouching down next to you, his hand stroking your hair.

"Alex?" You muttered under your nose.

"Good mornin', mi luv."

"Alex!" You jumped out of the bed, where you had fallen sleep, and found yourself in his arms, you sunk into the warmth of his body. It felt as if when you were in his arms all your pain went away, the depressing pain. Your eyes dripped with tears. "I missed you so much."

"I missed yeh too darlin'."

He pulled you closer to him, his embrace was warm, something that felt right, smelt right. The room somehow seemed warmer in his presence, his strong arms holding your fragile body.

"Is mi little bird still sad?" He asked.

"A little." You murmured with a tiny sigh.

"Move, le' me get under tha' blanket, too." He chuckled.

You moved to your side of the bed and once he laid next to you you snuggled up to him. You felt strong arms wrapped around your shoulders, his chest rising and falling against you.

"Yeh said it 'appens often? Yeh feel sad?" He stroked your hair.

You nodded. A single tear slid down from your eyes. You felt hypocritical for letting Alex drop everything and come to you only because of your uncontrollable sadness.

"I feel even worse now. You had to fly all the way here."

"I couldn't help it. You din' expect me to continue the concert knowing tha' my princess is 'ere all alone an' cries all day."

He let you pull away, blinking lashes heavy with tears, before you collapsed again. Salty drops fell from your chin, drenching his black shirt.

"Alright. Yeh wanna cry, tha's okay. I'm jus gunna hold yeh while yer cryin'." He kissed your head. "Alright, but I'm gunna tell yeh a story."

You hugged him tighter, burying your face in his chest.

"Yeh see when princesses get sad, everything in the world starts to go wrong. When a single tear rolls down a princess's eye, the world just collapses. Flowers stop growing, trees, plants, everything. Even the weather gets worse when the princess is sad 'erself. See when she cries, the clouds start teh cry, too." Alex looked down at you to see if you had stopped crying and maybe had fallen asleep already, but what he saw made him smile and he barely kept himself from laughing. It was just too adorable.

You had stopped crying and were intently listening to every his word while your eyes wandered somewhere around his shirt.

"Bu' it only takes one smile of the princess to make everythin' bloom again," he continued, "She smiles and the sky turns slowly bright again letting the sun peek through the clouds."

"So," he brought his hand to your chin and lifted it up to see your face, "mi princess, will yeh give me tha' smile?"

You couldn't help but giggle. "What? You're telling me this just to cheer me up."

"Nope. It is a true story. Yeh jus' 'ave teh believe me." He answered and you laughed for the first time in days.

"Tha's mi good girlie. An' listen, from now on you gunna come with me on mi tours."

"I have a university to attend, Alex. If you haven't forgotten." You sighed softly.

"Well, I'm not talking 'bout term time, you have to study. I'm talking 'bout now, when you're on vacation."

"Wait, you're saying that I'm coming to Paris with you? Like now? So you didn't cancel your concerts!" You lifted on your elbows. There was that purity, that naivety that he liked in you so much.

"Well, no. I didn't. I was planning to come here and take you with me. What are you saying, mon coeur? You, me, Paris?"

You stared at him in awe. Your smile growed, you wanted to jump for joy. And you did, nearly making Alex fall off the bed. "I'm saying 'yes'." You whispered into his mouth. Not waiting for another second, he captured your lips with his in a long kiss.

"Wha' else can I do for mi princess?"

"I want you to sing me." You looked up at him.

"Sing you? Hmm.. which song?"

"I want you to sing that part in sweet dreams," you said dreamily.

"Tha' part? You're very precise 'bout yer requess', darlin'." He chuckled.

"Well, you know what I'm talking about. That exact part."

"I know wha' part you're talking 'bout. You're just lucky to 'ave a boyfriend who understands yeh immediately."

"Yeah, like 'tongue in a nostril'?" You said quoting the song.

"Well, tha's the thin' tha' only yeh and mi understand, tha's our song."

#alex turner imagine #arctic monkeys imagine #alex turner #alex turner x you #arctic monkeys #imagine #fanfic #alex turner x reader #alex turner fic #alex turner fanfic #the last shadow puppets #alex turner fanfiction

[feathers-and-fisticuffs]

Just A Crybaby...

[chapter list heeeeere]

“You think you’re real clever don’t you?!”  Oleana had him pinned, the thick sharp heel of her boot digging into his bad leg, making him cry out.  “You just had to go and open your smart little mouth!”

Basil tried to pull his leg out from under her but every move shot waves of agony through his knee.  “I’m sorry!  I’m sorry  I won’t do it again please!”

“You’re damn right you won’t do it again...”  She lifted her leg, but reached down and grabbed him by the collar, pulling him towards her face.  “If you ever tell Rose about this, I’ll make sure you never walk again.”  She threatened him with a venom that he had no doubt was real and deadly.  “You’re not fit to worship the ground he walks on.  You’re just a crybaby.”

She let go of him and stalked off, leaving him to cry on the floor, clutching his leg tightly and waiting desperately for the pain to go away.

Basil woke up as the sun began to stream through the blinds and into his eyes, rolling over and coming face to face with Kabu.  Oh.  He had forgotten about last night.  A feeling of guilt started to rise in his gut.  This was all his fault... He should leave so Kabu could sleep.  But he felt so safe with Kabu beside him... Maybe he could afford to be selfish a little while longer.  He snuggled down a little further into the warm blankets, trying to pull them out from underneath Kabu without waking him, and scooted a little closer to him, closing his eyes.  He promised himself, this would be the last time he showed his weakness.

Kabu woke slowly from sleep, groaning from trying to fit himself onto Basil’s small bed without knocking the boy off.  “Mmgnh.... Basil?  Are you awake?”  He whispered finally.

“I’m awake.”

“Oh, good morning.”  He gave him a little awkward side hug, which he found difficult still with sleeping limbs.  “Ugh... did you sleep well?”

Basil nodded shyly.  “Yeah.  I’m sorry....”  He looked away.

“What?  Don’t be sorry.  I don’t ever want you thinking you can’t come to me if you need me.”  He ruffled Basil’s hair.  “Let’s go get some breakfast, hm?  I’m hungry.”  He forced a smile, hoping Basil couldn’t tell how angry he still was with Nanu.  

Basil got up and began searching for clothes, and Kabu slowly, slooowly managed to straighten his back, and knees, and stand up.  He stretched, took a few tentative steps to pop his knees into place, then quickly left to give Basil some privacy.  He recalled his pokemon that were guarding the door, thanking them for doing a good job, before wandering to the bedroom to find his robe and tossing it on over his sleep clothes.  There was no sign of Nanu, no clothes, no note, nothing.

Maybe that was for the best.

He stumbled downstairs to the kitchen, trying to stretch as he did, really feeling his age after the night he had had.  He hadn’t even noticed the fridge door standing wide open until it shut in front of him.

“Good morning sleepyhead... are you hungry?”  Nanu had a tub of butter under one arm, and a handful of eggs in the other.  He smiled brightly, hoping this would serve as an apology.

It only served to piss Kabu off, and he let out a gruff growl before reaching around him for some bread to toast silently.

“You’re kidding me right now.  You’re just going to give me the silent treatment all day?”

Kabu crossed his arms, keeping his back to Nanu.

Nanu rolled his eyes.  “Fine.  Whatever.”  He grabbed his coffee and cooked his eggs in silence.

When Basil sulked down the stairs, still sleepy eyed and disheveled, they were both seated at opposite ends of the table, glaring at each other over their barely touched meals.

The sight of it caused Basil’s heart to rise in his throat.  He couldn’t shake the feeling that this was his fault.  If he hadn’t been here, this would never have happened.  He tried to turn around and go back to his room, but Kabu had already seen him.  “Good morning, Basil.  Why don’t you come get some breakfast?”

“I’m not hungry...”  He hated that his voice was shaking.

“It’s alright.  Our friend here was just leaving.”

“Did you hear somethin’, Kid?  The wind is getting strong today.”  Nanu growled.  “It almost sounded like some childish old man who can’t take a joke.”

Basil flinched at that and ran back upstairs.

“Nice one, asshole!”  Kabu hissed at Nanu, trying to keep his voice down.  “You wanna keep undoing all of my hard work?!  Why don’t you just go kick his cane out from under him while you’re at it?!”

Nanu was surprised by this outburst.  “Hey, come on!  I didn’t do anything wrong!  Why are you yelling at me?!”

Basil curled up at the top of the stairs and put his hands over his ears.  He didn’t want them to fight, fighting always lead to getting hurt...

“How can you sit there and defend the way we were raised?!  How can you think that anything we went through was a good thing?”  Kabu was struggling to keep his voice down.  

“I’m not!  I never said that I was just saying--”

“I know what you were saying.  But he doesn’t.  You say things like that and he thinks you’re talking about him!  If he had heard you last night...  I never want him to feel the kind of fear we felt.”

Nanu looked into his empty coffee cup.  “Look, I’m sorry.  I’m not good with kids. I’m not good with people.  In general.  Why do you think I fucked off to Alola the first chance I got?  So I could stay away from everyone.”  He said bitterly.

Kabu sighed and shook his head.  “What happened to you, Nanu..?  You’ve changed.  You used to want to help people.  You used to want to fight for people.”

“The world is cruel, life hurts, then you die.  There’s no point in trying to fight it.”  He didn’t look up from his cup as he spoke.

Kabu gulped, and stood on shaky legs.  “I told you this wasn’t going to work.  I want you gone when we get back.”  Each word ripped his heart out anew.  He didn’t want Nanu to leave, but he had a responsibility to keep Basil safe.  That was all that mattered.  He turned on his heel and disappeared up the stairs, almost tripping on Basil as he turned the corner.

“Oh- Basil--!”  He dropped to his knees in an instant.  “What’s wrong are you hurt?  Did you hurt your leg?”  He wiped the tears that were falling tried to console the shaking boy.

“I’m s-ss-orry!”  He moaned out, unable to keep from bursting out into ugly sobbing.  “It’s a-all my fa-ault!”

Kabu fought back his own tears as he gathered Basil up in his arms and rocked him gently.  “Shh... It’s not your fault.  None of this is your fault why would you think that?”

“I shouldn’t ha-ave b-bothered you last ngh-night!  I’m just a c-crybaby!”  He sobbed, and Kabu quelled the anger rising inside of him once more.  Nanu had really outdone himself this time.

“Basil I don’t care if you’re still waking me up in the middle of the night when you’re 35.”  He soothed.  “I will always, always be here for you, no matter what.  You understand?”  He wiped Basil’s eyes again.  “You’re not a crybaby.  It was very brave of you to come to me, and tell me what was scaring you.”

“What if I’m 70?”  Basil sniffled.

Kabu smiled.  “Even when you’re old and grumpy like me.”  He poked Basil’s side, happy he got a small giggle out of him.  “You are always allowed to cry.  Feel your feelings, that’s why they’re there.”

Basil wiped his nose on the back of his sleeve.  “Okay...”

“Tell you what.  Why don’t you go get washed up, splash some cold water on your face, and let’s go see what your Scorbunny can do in the wild, eh?”  He helped Basil stand and walked him back to his room.  Kabu was well aware any sadness Basil was holding onto would disappear at the thought of getting to catch his first Pokemon.  He let Basil compose himself and gave him some space while he packed them a bag and a lunch.

Nanu was gone by the time he made it to the kitchen.  He felt a pang of guilt at not saying goodbye.  He just wished they could get their timing right...

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

Basil was looking energetic and excited by the time their flying taxi finally landed.  He had only been to Wedgehurst a few times with Rose on business before, and even then, he wasn’t allowed to just go out and explore.

Kabu let him wander the shops a while, keeping tabs on all of the things Basil pointed out to come back for later.  He gave him some money to buy some potions, and pretty soon they were out in the middle of the tall grass, waiting for the perfect Pokemon to appear.

“Oh!  Basil look!”  He grinned and pointed.  “That one wears eyeliner like yours!”  He teased and elbowed him gently.

Basil blushed.  “You’re making fun of me!”

“I’m not!”  He chuckled.  “It’s a good look, even Pokemon are trying to steal it.”

He huffed, but he had to admit, the little Fox prancing around the tall grass was pretty cute...

“I wanna catch him!”  Basil exclaimed suddenly.  “How do I catch him?”

Kabu put a hand on his shoulder and walked him through it, giving him tips on the best way to battle, trying to keep things simple so that he wouldn’t get frustrated.  

“Hey, you’re doing great!”  He grinned.  “Go ahead and throw a pokeball!  Don’t get discouraged if he doesn’t stay, you can always try again!”

Basil dug in his bag for a pokeball, looking from it to the Nickit and back.  “Just... throw it?”

Kabu nodded.  “Fate will do the rest.”

Basil closed his eyes and lobbed it.  “I can’t watch...”

“Basil look!  Look!” 

He peaked through his fingers nervously, watching the pokeball twitch, once, twice, three times... then a click and a flash.

“You did it!”  Kabu cheered, genuinely excited.

“I... I did..?  I did!  I did it!”  He dropped his cane and ran over to the pokeball, limping slightly.  “I caught you!  You’re my new partner!”  His eyes went wide as the ball twitched in his hand slightly before popping open, the Nickit plopping into his arms.

“Hi!”  Basil laughed and snuggled it close.  “Kabu look I caught him!”

Kabu’s chest swelled with pride.  “You did great.  Keep it up and you’ll be rivaling Leon in no time!”  He winked.  “Oh, and I want you to have this.”  He handed Basil his very own rotom phone.  “I want you to be able to come and go as you please, but I want to be able to get ahold of you, and for you to be able to call if you need help.”

Basil took it gingerly.  “Really..?  Are you sure?”

Kabu nodded.  “You’re old enough to start doing things on your own.  And making your own decisions.  If you want to go work towards being champion, I’ll support you 100%.  If you want to go stay with Leon, and let him mentor you, and help set you up to take over as Chairman of Marcos Cosmos, that’s okay too.  And Piers sees a lot of potential in you, you know... He’s not gym leader anymore, but I know you like dark types like your new little friend, he could help you specialize in them if you’d like.  He would love to have something to keep his hands busy now that Marnie is taking over for him.”

Basil hugged Nickit a little tighter and frowned.  “Um... that’s a lot...”  He said quietly.

Quick to calm him, Kabu put his hands on Basil’s shoulders.  “I know, I know it’s a lot.  But you don’t have to make a decision now.  You don’t have to do any of those things.  I just wanted you to know that no matter what you decide to do, or where you decide to go, I’m proud of you.  And I’ll be here to support you no matter what.”  He smiled when Basil looked up at him.  “I just want you to be happy.”

Basil blushed and looked away.  “You’re too nice to me...”

“I disagree.  I think I’m just the right amount of nice.”  He chuckled.  “Now are you done catching Pokemon?  Or do you have a few more in you do you think?”

Basil grabbed his cane then and rushed forward into the tall grass again then, laughing, his two new Pokemon following close behind, warming right up to each other.

Kabu laughed.  “Hey, wait up!  I’m old!”

#my precious baby basil #kabu #gym leader kabu #dad kabu #nanu #kabu/nanu #hurt/comfort #angst #why did this get so sad?? #tw child abuse #child abuse mention #I swear the next chapter will be happy! #omg

[chnat0wn]

Black Irises

Relationship: Alfie Solomons/Original Female Character

10. The Justice, the Judgement and the F-cking Executioner.

The branches of the trees were swaying lazily in the wind, rustling leaves sounded calming in its own way. Especially when the sun was there too. It was hanging high, its golden rays breaking through the crowns of the trees, falling unevenly on the silhouettes underneath. Deborah tilted her head back and lowered her eyelids, letting the sun brush her pale skin.

She looked again at the bunch of children playing on the lawn. Benjamin, Karl, Charlie, as well as John's kids were running around Ada's garden. Benjamin was holding Maggie's – the youngest daughter of John and Esme – hand. He was careful with her, and shielded her from the rest if necessary. Deborah couldn't help smiling, watching the couple of rosy, happy faces.

Esme appeared in the garden. She passed the kids running around, and struggled to sit on the blanket next to Deborah. She rested her back on a tree trunk and her head on Deborah's shoulder. She placed her hand on her huge belly and sighed heavily. “Does it really relax you? Looking at a bunch of kids?” she asked incredulously. Before Deborah could answer, there was a loud cry in the garden. They both looked in that direction, Esme sat up straight. “Oi!” she yelled. Little Maggie turned out to be the source of crying. “I'm going there...” Esme gasped.

“Stay here.” Deborah stopped her, placing her hand on Esme’s knee. “I’ll go.” she said. Esme sighed gratefully as Deborah spared her getting up and running after her children. Deborah hurried to the scene of a minor accident. She looked at Maggie's face – red and wet from tears – and knelt beside her. “What is happening, sweetheart?” she asked softly. Maggie, choking on the sudden lack of air intake skills, pointed to her scuffed knee. “Oh, it’s all right now.” Deborah stroked the girl's hair, then helped her up. Finally, she took Maggie in her arms so that she could cuddle into Deborah's neck.

“I’ll take her.” Esme held out her hands. But Maggie stuck to Deborah, and Deborah herself didn't see a problem in calming the upset child. Esme smiled and breathed a sigh of relief. “You are saving my life. These kids are real devils. And there will be more and more of them. They’re like a plague, you know?” she rolled her eyes. Deborah laughed and stroked Maggie's back.

The rest of the children seemed to ignore Maggie's absence. Anyway, Maggie showed no desire to return to the lawn, so she remained in Deborah's arms. Esme looked somewhere behind Deborah's back. She opened her eyes wider, then nodded in the same direction. Deborah looked over her shoulder quickly. She held her breath, eyebrows raised. Alfie stood there. In the passage between the garden and the living room.

“What is he doing here again...” Deborah gasped under her breath.

“I will leave you two alone. It looks like he wants to see you badly.” Esme was ready to get up from the blanket once again, but Deborah gave her a warning look.

“Don’t. We will go somewhere else.”

“With my child?” Esme frowned, smiling with amusement. Deborah shrugged helplessly, and that another attempt to tear Maggie apart from Deborah was also a defeat, she moved towards Alfie. “Be a good girl!”

“She will be.” Deborah replied looking back at Esme.

Esme laughed, biting her lip. “I was talking to you!”

Deborah smiled to herself, rolled her eyes and finally stood near Alfie. He looked the same as he looked yesterday. The condition of his skin indicated stress and excessive work, which he had undoubtedly experienced recently. In spite of all, he seemed more relaxed that day, he was emanating calmness.

“‘his one is yours as well?” he asked, pointing at Maggie. The girl watched Alfie with curiosity written on her face. Deborah suspected that Maggie had never seen anyone or anything like that.

“No. Not this time.” she replied, wrinkling her nose. “I cannot believe you have nothing better to do. The road from Camden Town to Birmingham takes how long? Over two hours?” she continued, moving forward, to a wooden bench nearby. “Do you really have so much of free time?”

Alfie smiled and shook his head. He sat up with a heavy grunt and rested his hands on the cane he placed between his knees. “I don't know. I usually know everyfing I need to know, right? But now... I just don't. I don't ‘ave fuckin’ idea why am I wasting me precious time and coming ‘ere.”

Maggie yawned loudly. Alfie looked at the child in surprise. After a while, his face took on a soft but still surprised expression. He pursed his lips. He felt this strange, unpleasant stabbing pain in his chest. He knew what it was. He had never thought about it before, but seeing Deborah with the child, having Benjamin somewhere nearby, he realized that he regretted some decisions he made in the past. He lost all the years he could spend with Deborah, with their son. Instead, the boy had no idea who Alfie was to him. He missed everything.

Alfie reached into his coat. He got one chocolate candy out of many rustling, empty papers in his pocket. He offered it to Maggie. “Go on. This one ‘s for ya.” he smiled friendly. Deborah knew that smile, but couldn't remember when it last appeared on his face.

Maggie took over the candy and devoted all her attention to it immediately. Deborah laughed briefly as she watched the child's actions. Finally, she looked at Alfie.

“Why?” he asked suddenly. The warm, youthful smile disappeared and was replaced by clear bitterness. “Why didn't ya wait for me? I had plans. We had plans.” he frowned. “A few years was enough to tear ‘em down? To fuckin’ ashes?”

Deborah swallowed hard. She removed Maggie from her lap and put her on the grass. “Go to your mum, sweetheart.” she smiled. The girl rushed to Esme, giggling along the way. Deborah took a short breath, running her hands over her thighs. “It's more complicated than it may seem. I had no choice, Alfie.” she said barely audible. She looked away and set her gaze on a clump of green blades of grass.

  *

Ten years earlier.

  Deborah was watching Alfie say goodbye to his mother. Yeva was a petite, rather bony woman, yet she hugged her son with more strength than anyone would have expected. Yeva's gray eyes, which looked like Alfie's, filled with tears, but not one ran down her cheek. Deborah met her as a strong woman and remained so. Especially in the face of the impending disaster, which the War was. Yeva had to say goodbye to her two sons, and she couldn't be sure if any of them would come back to her.

Next in line was Alfie's younger sister, twenty-year-old Sarah. Unlike the others, she gave her brothers a broad smile that brought hope. She was like a ray of sunshine, delivering some positive feelings. “If you come back in a coffin to us, I will bring you to life only to kick your arse.” she said, embracing Alfie's neck.

“Sarah.” Yeva scolded her daughter, but she couldn't stop herself from smiling. Her children showed no paralyzing fear; the boys weren't begging to save them from the nearing tragedy, Sarah wasn't crying over the fate of her brothers. And that was keeping Yeva up.

At the very end Alfie stood before Deborah. For the first dozen or so seconds they didn't say a word. Alfie was looking at her with a smile, and Deborah smiled at him back. Soon, he hugged her tightly, firmly pressing her against his body. Deborah took a deep breath, inhaled the scent she knew. “Sarah is right.” she said and pulled back enough to be able to look at Alfie's face freely. “And I swear to God, I’ll help her.” she said with conviction.

Alfie chuckled. “I can't let ya both walk all over me, can I? I have no choice. I have to come back in one piece. And I will.” he said, shrugging carelessly.

“You have to.” Deborah nodded. She reached to the nape of her neck and unfastened the necklace with one neat movement. The one that Alfie repaired. A thin, silver piece of jewelry with a swallow-shaped pendant. The swallow was a gift from Alfie, as a complement to the whole. “You must come back and return it to me.” she raised her eyebrows. She fastened the chain around his neck.

Alfie couldn't see the necklace since it was too short. However, he could grab the pendant between his fingers and become familiar with its structure and shape again. “Are you sure, love?” he asked half a tone quieter. Deborah nodded firmly, her lips tightening a smile. “So it’s a deal.”

“Deal.” Deborah held out a hand that Alfie shook.

The train made a loud gasp, indicating an approaching departure. Deborah froze, realizing that these were the last moments. She knew well that Alfie would disappear for a long, indefinite time. She looked at him, parting her trembling lips. But Alfie didn't let her say a word. He kissed her violently but tenderly, closing her mouth.

“Do not say anything more, Debby.” he whispered, placing his hands on her cheeks. “I know everything I should know. Alright? You don't have to say anything more. We’ll talk when I get back.”

But Deborah couldn't fulfill his request. She put a hand on his hand, holding it with her fingers clenched around. “Don’t go.” she asked faintly.

“Everything will be alright.” he promised. He placed a cautious, slightly longer than usual kiss on her forehead. He absorbed her warmth, presence, and smell of her hair. And finally he pulled away and went straight to the steel machine. He looked back several times, giving Deborah a smile each time. That's why she smiled too, seeing him for the last.

  *

  The betting shop was almost empty, extremely gloomy and quiet. Arthur, who was definitely too loud, and John laughing most of the time were missing. Tommy was usually quiet so his absence wasn't particularly bothersome. In addition, Polly has been nervous ever since the boys left. She had to deal with the whole business alone, she had Ada and Finn on her head. Deborah decided to help her for these several reasons. She preferred to be in Birmingham with Aunt Polly than with her incessantly complaining father. Over time, Robert created more and more problems in every possible field.

Polly was reviewing the accumulated papers. Most men were at the War, so profits fell dramatically. But Polly didn't complain, she acted instead. Ada dealt with browsing and filling books, though she didn't like it at all. Her thoughts were with Freddie, and she only wanted him to come home soon. Deborah was responsible for counting and accounting and Martha was looking after little Finn. 

Deborah felt happy among the people she loved. Even if a significant part of them was at the front. Still, she could feel joy. She could laugh with Ada, Polly and Martha in the evenings, play with Finn, smile at passers-by during walks. Until she began to feel tired and sore.

“What's up with you?” Polly raised an eyebrow at Deborah one time. She got up from the table and went to Deborah standing by the kitchen counter tops. She examined her carefully, finally fixed her eyes on hers. Suddenly, with a swift movement, Polly put her hand on Deborah's stomach. “Is that the answer?”

“What?” she asked weakly. “It’s just-”

“You're pregnant, aren’t you?” Polly interrupted. Deborah held her breath, losing all the colors from her face. 

  *

  When Robert Rouby found out about the baby, he went absolutely berserk. Not because someone dared to touch his beloved daughter in that way. He was furious because Deborah had no husband and people would start gossiping. As if he hadn't heard enough about his family when Margaret was sick. Robert saw only one good solution for everyone. He decided to immediately look for a candidate for Deborah's husband. Nobody knew exactly how or under what circumstances Robert met Santino Castellano, but they quickly came to an agreement.

One day, Santino Castellano brought a young man named Biagio to Robert's house. Biagio, like his father, had a swarthy, flawless complexion, hazel eyes and dark, thick hair. He was undeniably handsome. He and his father wore expensive, solid suits. Deborah guessed they weren't middle class workers. 

Santino and Biagio were invited to Robert's house for a dinner. Robert was mainly talking to Santino, Biagio was devoting the most of his time to watching Deborah. He didn't seem to notice her visible, big belly. He was looking at her with delight, he was charmed by her. Because the sadness on her face was giving her almost frigid appeal. She finally looked at him and he smiled sheepishly. “I’m sorry.” Biagio said. “You are very beautiful. A little different than the girls in my country, but still beautiful. Like a work of art...” he sighed.

After the meal, when Robert and Santino were discussing the case of their children's, Biagio took Deborah for a walk. It was getting warm, the snow melted some time ago. And although his mother put a lot of effort in instill good manners into Biagio, he no longer pretended not to see Deborah's rounded stomach. “You'll have a baby.” he spoke. He didn't ask but stated the fact. Deborah nodded in the affirmative. She didn't know if she felt strong enough to talk about it. “This means you have a husband?”

“No.” she replied. She took a deep breath, feeling a sudden burst of emotion inside. She has been extremely unstable lately. All memories of Alfie filled her with sadness and worry.

“But someone left you. With the baby.” Biagio continued.

“He did not leave me.” Deborah denied. “He was needed in another place.” she admitted. She didn't say a word that the child's father had no idea that he will be one.

“Where could a man be more needed than at the side of his child's mother?”

This time Deborah felt annoyed. There was nothing else for her to do but answer him, instead of rolling her eyes. “At the front, Biagio.”

  As long as Santino Castellano and his son were in England, there was no day when Biagio would not visit Deborah. She didn't want his company, or the long walks he offered her, the museums and restaurants he was taking her to. She preferred spending a whole days at home, reading books, cleaning or writing letters that were never sent. 

One day, Biagio appeared with more than another fully planned day. He spent a lot of time talking to Robert. Deborah was sitting at her bedroom then, anticipating what Biagio had come for. She was right – when she decided to go downstairs and greet him with a forced smile, Biagio proposed to her. In the presence of her father, who seemed relieved. It was the first moment for a long time he was truly relaxed.

Robert had enough sense and humanity to convince Santino that Biagio and Deborah should get married in England, not in Italy. Robert had convinced Santino that the father of Deborah's child died in the War, and Deborah found happiness again. With Biagio. That's why Santino was able to agree to everything Robert asked for.

All Deborah's doubts accumulated on the day she was trying a wedding dress on. She asked Polly to be with her that day. Deborah missed her mother like never before. Margaret would never agree to what Robert was doing. “I can't do this, Pol.” Deborah said. She felt that she lacked air. “I'm not ready for this. I don't want to spend the rest of my life with Biagio. He's kind, it's true. He's good...” she confessed in a panic, forgetting about breathing. “But I cannot love him. Not now.”

“Debby,” Polly stroked her hair, then took her face in her hands. Polly also felt powerless, she could do nothing for Deborah. Arthur, Thomas and John were in the clutches of the War. They couldn't help her either. “You need to calm down. You got me. I will never leave you alone. Do you hear me?”

Robert appeared in the room. Deborah and Polly looked at him. He wasn’t happy to see his daughter in a white dress. The more that it only emphasized her large belly.

“Dad,” she gasped and approached him. She hoped that she would awaken some empathy and fatherly feelings in him. “I can't marry Biagio. You must understand me. Please.”

Robert pursed his lips and shook his head. “You WILL marry Biagio Castellano. It is decided. And we won't talk about it again and again. You are getting married in a few days. Get used to this thought, because I'm not going to change my mind. I can't change my mind.”

“But I don't love Biagio, dad.” she protested gently. She had no intention of arguing with her father. Deborah even smiled when she was thinking she saw a slight hesitation in her father's eyes. However, this hesitation didn't apply to the decision related to the marriage. Robert wondered how hard should he react. And he chose the worst option possible. He hit Deborah's face. The moment his hand touched Deborah's cheek, Polly reached into the gun behind her belt. She aimed it directly at Robert's head.

“What are you doing, Polly?!”

Polly nodded slowly, her lips tightening. “Dare to touch her again. And I will kill you.”

“You have fucking gun with you?!” Robert continued, ignoring Polly's tone and attitude.

“Foolishness made you a blind man? I do have a gun. To handle with people like you.”

  Robert Rouby didn't change his mind. The wedding was to take place, and nothing could prevent it.

Most of the Castellano family came to England. Beautiful, tanned faces stood out from the rest of society. Deborah couldn't stop thinking that she would soon be part of a huge clan. She'd always wanted to belong somewhere, but she never expected to end up this way. Alongside a member of the Sicilian mafia, maybe a future leader.

Deborah didn't remember most of the ceremony. She only knew that she had sworn to God Himself to be with Biagio for better or for worse, for richer or for poorer, in sickness and in health. She wished she had escaped earlier, when she had a chance. She was afraid, however, that Biagio, who was starting to be a bit obsessed with her, would find her everywhere, and he would punish anyone who hindered him from being with Deborah.

Standing at the altar, she looked at the figurine of Christ. She had never felt so betrayed by something she had believed so much before. In exchange for her torment, she only asked for Alfie to get home.

  *

Now.

  “When Benjamin was born, we went to Italy.” Deborah shrugged, nibbling the fabric of her skirt with her fingers. “Biagio is very close with his parents, especially with his mother. But she knew. She knew before me.” she smiled sadly. “She defended me when she had the chance. She could talk some sense into him. She looked after me when Biagio...” she hesitated. She glanced at Alfie. “...when Biagio was overreacting. Then, after a year or two, we moved to New York, and we lived there until now.”

Alfie didn't say a word. He let Deborah tell everything she wanted to tell him, but he couldn't find words that would convey what he felt. And he felt far more than he might have thought. He was angry. Angry at everyone who were involved in this. At anyone who decided to look away and allow for all of this. He felt incredibly depressed – he felt sorry for Deborah. He couldn't imagine what she had to go through all these years.

“Alfie..?” she said after a moment. She refrained from touching him. She wanted to do it but was afraid of his reaction. He didn't look like someone who wanted to be touched now. “Could you-” she paused, hearing her own voice tremble and break. She cleared her throat to get rid of uncertainty and a slight breakdown. “Could you say something?”

“Fuckin’ ‘ell.” he mumbled. He rose from the bench and walked forward to leave the garden and Ada's estate. Shortly afterwards, Alfie disappeared from Deborah's view, leaving her alone with thoughts screaming in her head. She didn't hear the joyful shouts of the children or Esme's calls. Just the sound of pulsing blood in her ears.

  *

  White lightning crossed the dark sky. The walls of rain were cutting off everything around, obstructing any visibility. The streets were empty, nobody would dare to leave the house in this weather. Perhaps a mad man who considers himself as an immortal creature sent from the bottom of hell.

Robert Rouby went to the door when he heard a knock. He did not expect guests, after all no one besides his colleagues visited him. He saw Polly from time to time, but only because Polly felt a sentiment for their friendship. “Who’s there?” he asked in a raised tone. There was silence on the other side of the wooden surface, except for rain and the storm. Robert opened the door behind which the darkness reigned. Still, he was able to see the broad silhouette. And when the next lightning dispersed the space behind the mysterious figure, Robert recognized him.

Alfie took a step forward. Robert was too shocked to try to stop him or even close the door. He backed away, unable to take his eyes off the point where he had just seen the face of the terrifying giant. Solomons dripped water. He was clenching his cane in his hand, and his nostrils widened and narrowed in heavy breaths. He looked like an furious animal. “Ya don’t know who the fuck am I?” Alfie spoke. “I am the justice, the judgement and the fucking executioner, yeah? All in one. But I won't kill you, because it would be God's mercifulness. I'll make the mistakes of yer past haunt you for the rest of yer miserable life.”

“Mistakes of my past?” Robert repeated, barely catching his breath.

At the very beginning, Alfie blamed Deborah about everything. He believed that she had made an unfair, ill-considered choice, even if they had previously promised something completely different to each other. But her side of the story opened his eyes and sorted out the mess that gained strength through the years. Alfie knew he should blame Robert for everything. Because it was his fault that Alfie felt excruciating sadness and anger. Emotions that somehow formed him as an adult. And they appeared for the first time when Alfie got off the train and saw that besides his mother and sister, no one else was waiting for him. He was devastated, he felt cheated. Only now did he realize that the source of all this misfortune was Robert.

“Mistakes of your fucking past!” Alfie burst out. “You are a father, right? And as a father you should protect your children. And ya brought the worst scum, right? The worst scum on your own daughter! You should have protected her, eh? And yet, you traded her for a little peace of mind. Un-fuckin-acceptable. UN-FUCKIN-ACCEPTABLE! And,” he frowned, narrowing his eyes. “ya fuckin’ hit her? You raised a hand at Deborah, when she needed her father the most?” he was asking incredulously, even if he knew the answer perfectly well.

“I regret! I truly regret for what I did!” Robert fell to his knees. But they both knew it was far too late. Alfie took the swing and inflicted one solid blow with his cane. Robert fell to the floor, though he was still conscious. He made a loud scream of pain, feeling a blood on his face. Alfie struck again, and then again, driven by madness and fury.

#Alfie Solomons #alfie solomons imagine #alfie solomons fanfic #alfie solomons x oc #Peaky Blinders #peaky blinders fanfic #peaky blinders fanfiction

[userlando]

don’t leave [alfie solomons]

summary: “Please don’t leave me.” warnings: mentions of assault, blood, explicit language wordcount: 1k author’s note: holy shit, your encouragement had me banging this out within an hour. I’ve worked non-stop for five days and am exhausted but I’m feeling pretty good because I’m kicking the crap out of this writer’s block, slowly but surely. please don’t hesitate to let me know what you think, hope you enjoy this x

[ THIS IS NOT PROOF READ]

“Please don’t leave me.”

Your heart was racing a mile a minute and you were pretty sure it would leave a dent in your ribcage by the steady thump it was doing. The streets were empty but then again, the pouring rain made it hard to see and you were too lost in your thoughts and focusing on just getting home that you barely paid any attention to your surroundings.

It was only when you’d closed the front door of your home behind you that you noticed how violently you were shaking, shivers racking your body as you let your soiled purse drop to the wooden floor. The sound of your own blood was rushing steadily in your ear, making it hard for you to hear anything but, eyes sweeping from left to right; Desperately trying to settle for anything familiar, anything that would bring you comfort.

But all you could think about was the man who’d grabbed you from behind, hand clamping over your painted lips as you screamed bloody murder when your brain registered what was happening. He’d hissed something in your ear that you couldn’t remember, but it had been terrifying enough in that moment for you to lash out and bite the palm of his grimy hand and twist away from his grip. You could still hear the way he’d crudely cussed at you and you could still feel your head pounding not just from the adrenaline but also from the way he’d gripped your hair to pull you back into his front.

It hadn’t gone too far, thankfully. But now... You looked down at your hands, trying to stop them from shaking as your eyes blurred with tears. The smell of blood was overwhelming and you had to swallow several times to keep the contents of your stomach down. You wrung your hands together, jumping when you heard a shuffle from somewhere down the hall.

“Pet?”

Just the sound of his voice had your tears streaming, bringing intense comfort and unexpected fear. You didn’t know how to talk, how to explain what had happened. How would Alfie react? Would he no longer want you? He’d always loved how pristine you were, how gentle your actions were and adored the kindness of your heart. The heart that he thought could do no damage.

You looked down at your hands, tacky with dried blood and you winced when you saw how it had gotten to your wedding ring too. There was blood on your hands now. Alfie would surely look at you differently, whether you liked it or not. And just the thought of that had a sob escaping your lips, just in time for you to look up and spot your husband huddling out of his office door.

“We need to fix the damn heating, right, I’m freezing my balls off.” He was grumbling, and it would’ve made you smile at any other time.

He stopped dead in his tracks when he looked up, and you could see the way his narrowed eyes widened at the sight of you. You had no idea what you looked like, but judging by the blood on your clothes, the bite marks littering your neck and your tear stained face; You were guessing it wasn’t looking too good.

You stood staring at him until your vision blurred with fresh tears.

“Alfie.” Your voice cracked and you let out an involuntary sob, soiled hand coming up to cover your mouth to prevent any more sounds from escaping.

“Who did this?” He couldn’t move. It was like he had been paralyzed, eyes sweeping left and right, up and down to assess the damage that had been done to you.

You couldn’t read him and that’s what terrified you the most. Your Alfie was always an expressive human being, whether he liked it or not. He’d always grunt his vexation and furrow his bushy eyebrows when he felt uncomfortable. He’d always mask his anger with laughter and his happiness by burrowing his bushy face in your neck.

In reality, Alfie was shaking. He was feeling all kinds of emotions running through him and it quite frankly had him feeling faint. Someone had hurt you, someone’d had the guts to lay their hands on you and he was going to absolutely kill that someone. With his own bare hands.

“Alfie, please...” You trailed off as you started crying, stepping forward twice before stopping; Despair overtaking your every sense. “Please, don’t leave me.”

That had him looking at you, fixing you with eyes that you now could see were burning with anger, anger for the one who did this to you and fear. Fear because he could see the life slipping out of you, see how this would scar you emotionally. The bastard had done his number on you physically, but he was afraid of this changing you for the worst. He was afraid.

“Leave you?” He was seething, gripping his cane in his right hand so hard he was sure it was about to snap. “I’m fucking angry, that’s what I am. I’m fucking livid, yeah, that someone would dare to lay their manky hands on you.”

You watched him waddle over to you, letting the cane slip from his hands and clatter to the floor as his arms came up to embrace you. You fell into his warmth, choked up sobs bubbling from your throat as you wept.

“Who did this, pet? Did you get a look at his face?” Alfie was trying to sound comforting, but he couldn’t control the waves of anger radiating off of him.

You shook your head, no doubt staining his clothes with crimson.

“You don’t ‘ave to,” You sniffled, pulling your head back so you could blink up at him. “I killed him. I’m so sorry.”

Alfie shushed you, trying not to show how satisfied he was over the fact that the bastard was dead. Even though he’d have loved to track him down and make the knob head suffer while he lost limb after limb, courtesy of Alfie.

“Nothing to be sorry for, yeah?” He spoke gruffly, hand cradling the back of your head to pull it into his chest. You sniffled and it absolutely tore at his heart. “I’m here, darlin’.”

#alfie solomons #alfie solomons fic #peaky blinders fic #peaky blinders one shot #alfie solomons one shot #writing #one shot #imagine #tom hardy fics #my fics #drabble #alfie solomons drabble #blurb

[eat-sleep-leafs]

every team i like just hates me huh 😔

#let’s make a list of teams that hate me #the leafs are out to personally attack me tbh #the flames and sens didn’t even make the fucking playoffs #pens were eliminated first round #canes and avs left me in tears #should i just like...become a golf fan? #playoffs lb

[sieben9]

“darkness on the edge of town” impressions

Well, I asked the show for more Cruella, and...

...deliver it did. She's terrible, can I keep her?

This episode is mainly a lot of setup and "where are they now" after the six-month time-jump that happened between 4A and 4B, but it's pretty solid setup with some good character moments. No, not the flirting. ...not just the flirting, anyway.

OK, to set this up very quickly: Rumple and two out of three "Queens of Darkness" want to go to Storybrooke, because that's apparently where they can find "The Author" who will be able to give them a Happy Ending, without them having to stop being villains. Which... I think I'll just withhold judgment until I know more about these ladies.

Anyway, Rumple has got an "in" to Storybrooke through what really has to be the most complicated way possible, so he gets Ursula to pick up Cruella, and they go on the world's snarkiest roadtrip.

And yes, there is also this whole scene.

@idesignedthefjords and i are also pretty sure that ursula has a shark in her bathtub. just a small one, though

No further comment.

We also get the flashback to show us 1) the beginning of the collaboration between the “Queens” and also 2) the reason why they really don’t like trusting Rumple. Short version: he left them to die. Longer version: he gathered the, made them go fetch something he really wanted, then left them to be eaten by the monster that guarded said thing that he really wanted. You see the parallels, I hope.

listen, i do not care that he's playing you both like fiddle, if you pull something like the cane-kick again, i will come in there and whack you with something spiky also, please do not with your face, sir

Over in Storybrooke, Emma is desperately trying to get Regina to go out with her.

and nobody can convince me otherwise.

Apart from that, they're trying to find the Author, which collides with the main plot, where people are still trying to de-hat the fairies.

Belle has a conversation with Hook that... Look they really are the best pair to have this specific conversation, but at the same time, it took a turn for "bothersome" for me, and fast.

then again, they've been alone in a room for at least five minutes, and he hasn't threatened violence or shot her in the back, yet. progress!

Belle, he didn't stick the apprentice into the Hat (lots of capital letters this episode...) because he was "blinded by love". He just wanted to get rid of his hand, which didn't even do anything to him. It just gave him an excuse to be an asshole.

You could argue that her willingness to forgive Hook stems from her need to forgive herself for not seeing through Rumple earlier, which... yeah, OK, fair. I also found it interesting how she talks about Rumple--as if him being gone was some abstract event that had nothing to do with her, all the while very clearly at the edge of tears. Girl's a mess of conflicting emotions, if you ask me... This was one of the character moments I mentioned, by the way.

please don't cry. i'm insufficiently equipped to handle it.

I will say, I was positively, 90% maliciously, gleeful when Emma went "well, you should thank Regina for that," because did you see Blue's face? Ha! Take that. To her credit, she did say "Thank you." Even if it was the most graceless thanks I've ever seen on anyone over the age of eight. And then, Blue continues to be her usual self, meaning "shady as all Hell" when Emma and Regina ask her about the Author. She also throws the idea out that the Author may not be male, which has me about 60% convinced that it's in fact her.

At that point, Rumple's overly-complicated manufactured crisis-trigger fires.

and now I will have "Ave Maria" stuck in my head for a week. thanks, ouat

And the rest of this plot is basically a list of reasons why I want Emma and Regina working together and blowing up monsters forever and ever, please. Losing Robin, oddly enough, seems to have made Regina less bitter about the whole Marian thing. I'd say that maybe the six weeks (EDIT: thanks for the catch by @moonshine-muffin, i thought it was six months; please, show, let Henry age...) did it, but let's be real. This woman can and will hold a grudge over decades; if she'd wanted to stay angry at Emma, she would have.

Apart from the teamwork... wait, let me get a cap for that.

it's magic, baby

Yes, self-indulgent. Shush.

Anyway, apart from the teamwork, I also really liked the ongoing fight of "more expendable than you." For those who haven't watched the episode: the Chernabog seeks out the heart "with the greatest potential for darkness" (important phrasing) and, well, eats it. Naturally, they assumed that would be Regina, and used her as bait to get the Chernabog over the town line. Problem is, the VW Bug has some excellent qualities, but a "high-speed chase" engine is not one of them, so the demon bat caught up to them. So Regina teleported herself out of the car right to the town line, presumably to ensure that Emma wouldn't get caught in the crossfire. I think the stupid heroics rub off on you after a while...

So they drive the demon out of town, and let Ursula and Cruella in, because they helped, and bad as they may be, Regina insists that they weren't nearly as horrible as her. Now we've got two "Queens of Darkness" (::snigger::) in town, they let in Rumple, and now he's planning to... I don't know, resurrect Malificent, I guess. Which is nice, I like her.

Oh, and in a twist only everyone was expecting, it’s not Regina’s heart that has the “greatest potential for darkness,” it’s Emma’s. I mean, Rumple delivered that one very nicely, good drama, and all, but it was fairly obvious.

And, as a parting shot...

Just what the hell was that supposed to be, guys? I mean, what did you do to these people that you don't want anyone knowing about? Because from what I've gathered, anything you do to the "villains" is generally regarded as fair turnabout, so... yeah, this doesn't look good, does it?

Also, as a little addendum near the end... I just loved Malificent's "yep, figures" when the demon thing goes after her in the flashback.

That is the face of a woman who's been having That kind of a day.

#ouat #once upon a time #darkness on the edge of town #sieben watches ouat #that is still a ridiculously long title #this is ''for the world is hollow and i have touched the sky'' levels of ridiculously long #sieben talks

[wafafs]

Had the highest average in Social Studies from elementary school to high school

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[worrentigre]

Memorial for a Fallen Hero

“Word has reached my ears that the members of the Destroyer's Dawn group is holding a memorial service for those among them who have died in the battle to free Ala Mhigo from Garlean control.  Specifically for Hogan Krieger, the crazy old monk among the group. Being tied up as I was, I was more surprised I made it in time.  Well... I was late, but better than never, right?  Elder Stream has already started speaking by the time I join them:”

Singing Stream: "---gone through be amongst the worst of it. Da struggle's we had, the up's and downs, the injuries, the worries and fears that befell us all. But we were able to stand tall and strong, to push foreword and guide our way to victory. Though brethren's and sisters may lie still upon the ground, we stand here ta'day ta' honor them. Ta grace upon them gratitude and promises of remembrance for all they 'ave done fer us." She would lightly smile to them all, taking a deep breath. "Without every last one of ye all ta' be 'ere. Without every last one of yer efforts, this day wouldn't 'ave been made. so I wish ta' 'ear upon thine words; if'in any of ye desire ta' give thine gratitude and respect, do come and step forth and let all be 'eard. Matter's not what god ye serve, fer everyone shared in the struggle in the end."

Riku Nonokune steps forward quietly and nods up to Stream. The lalafell then turns and looks to those gathered. He seems to chew on his silence for a moment that may last too long before he breaths out, "Hogan was an idiot. He was loud. Obnoxious. And, for the life of my me and despite my brilliance, I haven' the foggiest of what a 'dwarf' is." He adjusts himself a bit, "That being said... Hogan fought not for the dirt and rocks we stand upon. He fought for those he saw as friends and family. He fought for them. He..." The lalafell's ears wiggle as he stares a moment... then he lowers his hood over his eyes, "...he died for them." He shrugs his shoulders, "All that is left of Hogan is his annoying laugh and larger than life voice bellowing around in the belfries of my memory...and...there they shall echo to my dismay...and to my comfort. He will not be forgotten."

Soon, emotions begin to overtake some of the people around. 

Achillies Froste would swallow, the tear finally running down his cheek as he looked up. The man looked like he was about to legitmately break down into tears. Angeal Vespyn peered up slightly to Achillies, raising his hand to grasp his gently. Achillies looks up the armored man and nodded, taking a heavy sniffle. Angeal nods. Mayu Cloudwalker pauses in the rubbing over her prayer beads as she looks to Riku. Vivi Nocturne offers a moment of silence to Riku Nonokune. Lu'kan Viermos takes a few sharp breathes at Riku's words. He doesn't try to shunt the pain and his eyes go misty.

Riku Nonokune's mouth grimaces. From under his hood, tears can be seen. He gets out two gil coins and drops them on the ground, "Thal! God of Life and Death! I, Ririkune Nonokune, pay the Ferryman to bore Hogan, Fist of Rhalgr and hero of Ala Mhigo, to the Aetherstream."

Singing Stream in silence listens, watches, and respects allowing his moment and when he finished to pay Hogan's fee, Stream smiles and nods her head and looks upon everyone. "Who else be next?"

Angeal Vespyn approached where Stream stood, turning to face the group. He held up a hand, raising his finger but it soon lowered. He turned instead, grasping a banana out of his pouch and rested it upon the pedestal.

Singing Stream looks towards Angeal and watched what he did and smiled lightly as she closed her eyes a moment and nodded her head.

Achillies Froste would raise his head and nod, pulling out a small bushel of bananas from his satchel. A cane assisted limp forward and he would pass the armored man and set the bananas on the levinaxe. "Ooo-. Hooh-Ooh-EE!"

Angeal Vespyn quietly joins in, "..Oo."

Mayu Cloudwalker raises a brow in mostly confusion. She'd then continue to quietly move her fingers along her prayer beads.

Singing Stream would watch Froste who came up next and she couldn't help but chuckle and nod her head lightly. "He be certainly one ta' love those." she sincerely stated.

Achillies Froste would turn back around the others and force a smile. His face and eyes cherry sanguin as his hands trembled. "Th-that means...'Family. Forever....In Sasquatch..." Before finally breaking into tears and a full blown sob. It looked like the man had more to say; but he would shake his head and limp back into line instead. He stands next to Angeal once more, now leaned against the towering hunk of cloth and steel at his side. Angeal Vespyn shifted his footing to keep Achillies up.

Alexandyr Valcarde seems to be murmuring something to himself.

Von Sayrillont raised a eyebrow in suprise, before the reasoning why sets in, smiling softly as she shakes her head before moving forward, she rested a hand above the levin axe, grazing a hand along it as he placed a locket in the centre. "You are now reunited with your loved ones , Hogan, Brother... may you forever be able to keep her in your embrace in the path beyond." she spoke, keeping her head bowed for a few long moments before returning back to the crowd.

Lu'kan Viermos takes a deep breath and steps forward. He retrieves a scroll from his sash.  Lu'kan Viermos: "I didnae know 'im 'alf as well as others 'ere did... though I wish I 'ad. I did how'e'er watch 'ow 'e fought. It wasnae glamorous, but it did the tick. An' it was 'is own. I regret nae trainin' wiff 'im... but I make scroll containin' what I know of tha'"Lu'kan Viermos unwraps a scroll, a recreation of old manuals of Monk styles. "I'll 'fess I didnae do the artwork meself. My record, though it be imperfect will be a preservation for those who'd follow 'is ways, howe'er few that might be. This copy goes whit 'im tae laugh at. One tae be given tae the Temple tae preserve later." Lu'kan Viermos sets the scroll partway unrwapped down. He sniffs and takes a calming breath. "May Hogan rest in Rhalgr's Hall, whit the legends of old, the Masters o' the Way, an' the Heroes who'll follow after." Lu'kan Viermos puts his palm in his fist bows and says a prayer in old Ala Mhigan, this one for all to hear, before returning to his spot.

Alexandyr Valcarde takes a breath, and steps forward. "Ask not how he died... but how did he live?  Not what did he gain, but what did he give? These are the units to measure the worth, Of man as a man, regardless of birth. Not what was his church, nor what was his creed?  But had he befriended those truly in need? Was he ever ready, with words of good cheer, to bring back a smile or to banish a tear? Not what the news in the scrolls did they say... But how many were sorry when he passed away?"

Achillies Froste was still crying. Not just for Hogan; but actually the MANY people who died during this.

Singing Stream would bow her head lightly. "Hesitate not to speak thine words, kept not in silence and let all be heard." Stream kept a strong facade, though her eyes were watering. Her eyes scanned upon everyone to see who would step forth next. 

The words of mourning seemed to have affected the group even more. 

Ellianna Bellerose just tightened her grip on her right arm, her bangs in her face as she glances away from the group. Head still bowed.  Mayu Cloudwalker would bow her head and quietly speak under her breath. Achillies Froste shook his head. Von Sayrillont: "They all were good people, good fighters, friends, family.... they will never be forgotten."  Angeal Vespyn: "..Forever remembered.."  Alexandyr Valcarde puts a hand on Ellianna's shoulder and gives a squeeze to attempt a bit of comfort.  Lu'kan Viermos has his head down, tears running down his face. "They'll be our new Heroes afore long... they deserved tae see the fruit of their labors... but maybe they be lookin' on it already."  Ellianna Bellerose would bring her hand up, placing it on the back of Alexander's as she glanced over to him with a bit of a forced smile, the lines of water from her tears on her cheek, eyes a bit red as she nods to him  Worren Tigre, however, remains silent and stoic.

Then, he finally decides to step forward after seeing no one else moving up. "Ala Mhigo is free. We should not mourn the passing of our comrades, but celebrate what they did in life. During my life in combat, everyone who has fallen around me have died for nothing. Those who were close to me like family, even. Died to hubris. Cowardice. Treachery, even. But now, in my life, I can finally say that there are people who's deaths in combat were not in vain, and are meaningful. I'm only sad that Hogan and I never got a chance to wrestle those bears..." He gives a smile and a chuckle, and moves back.

Achillies Froste chuckled at Worren's last comment through his tears.

Angeal Vespyn: "..Perhaps, in a manner of speaking, he and the others flames will be used to lead the path like the meteor did long ago."

Singing Stream would smile closed her eyes as Worren spoke taking in his words and smilely gently. "Well spoken, Brethren." she stated and looked upon everyone else. "Be there any more words ta' share?"

Achillies Froste: "Friend Hogan...and others gave it all. So we can go back t' our lives..." Mayu Cloudwalker simply continues to quietly speak her prayer as she touches her prayer beads. Vivi Nocturne simply shakes his head and wipes his eyes. Riku Nonokune nods. Achillies Froste: "Dumb like stone, Strong like Sasquatch...Love like a brother." Alexandyr Valcarde: "And look not over our shoulders, lest we be blinded by the light behind us; let it instead illuminate the path forward.

Singing Stream would step forth closer to the group. "Rhalgr and the Twelve blesses us all, the living or the dead. Mourn in manners appropriate to ye all, but stay not in the pit of darkness that mourning can trap thy soul into. Our Brethren and Sisters fallen may not be physically 'ere with us, but they stay inside each of us, within our very hearts. Never ta' be forgotten." Stream would hold out her hand and a golden orb would form and levitate as it suddenly bursted into a large heavenly golden orb that erupted to shower all within the room with a warm radiance, there would be a revitalized feeling swelling within all. "Blessed be unto thine breath, blessed be unto thine soul. Fer we may all march forth into the new horizon with our heads 'eld 'igh and back straight. For the sacrifices left not in vain we build forth a new future, a future given ta' us by those fallen, but never forgotten." she would smile at everyone. "Many thanks to ye all, from the bottom of mine heart." Upon her cheeks tears would stream down.

Riku Nonokune: "Ala Mhigo and Doma are free... but the war is far from over. There are still other provinces under Garlean control. There are still battles to be fought. We've own Ala Mhigo. Now we must rebuild...and continue to fight for what we have gained."

Lu'kan Viermos: "They've set the fires tae light our way. Does us nae good if we stay in place overlong."

Vivi Nocturne: "Then let thier memory spur us on to complete this mission."

Everyone takes a moment of silence.

Riku Nonokune nods to Singing Stream. "Thank you for setting this up." Singing Stream would look down at Riku and she would nod. "Aye, I couldn't fathom the thought of letting my Brethens and Sisters to lay without a final farewell. I thank thee all for coming. It be quite meaningful." Riku Nonokune nods. Lu'kan Viermos adds, "Aye, I'm glad tha' we 'ah a moment tae send 'em off."

Von Sayrillont: "I think we all needed this, thank you Elder Stream... Vivi Nocturne bows courteously to Singing Stream. Stream smiles at Von Sayrillont in return.

Singing Stream: "Ye all may feel free to take upon thine 'omes, or stay further, I will not force thee ta' if'in ye don't desire ta'. I shall stay if'in ye desiring ta' speak more personally."

|”I never did like funerals or memorial services.  But, this one was worth it.  The old man went out fighting, just like he wanted, and Ala Mhigo is free. Too bad he's not able to see the fruits of his labor.  I'd be lying if I said I believed that he didn't deserve this.  He's lived a long life and went out with a hero's death. Like his booming voice and boisterous personality, he went out with a bang and not a whimper. And that, I can only admire. I've had many people I've called brother and sister, served with them in arms for years, only to see them die for nothing. My entire unit in the Brass Blades wiped out due to jealousy and treachery. Airka as well... I don't even want to think of the circumstances of her passing.  However, I will remain retired from active combat duty, but this has given me a small measure of hope that there are still things worth dying for out there. Cheers to you old man. May you forever grapple with Ivon Couerlfist and sit with Rhalgr in the life stream.”

*As Worren finally leaves Rhalgr's Reach, he pulls out a folded letter from one of the folds of his cyclas.  He must have read this a hundred times already, but it does not seem to get easier as his mood instantly sours once again. Showing real emotion for the first time that day by frowning deeply, he forgoes heading back to Thanalan, and instead decides to train once more on the boulders and golems around the Fringes.*

@onyamitnu

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