#( hell in high heels | lizzy )

[rogersevans]

Enchanted III

Summary: You didn't expect filling in for your colleague would have the most successful man in Boston besotted with you.

18+ Content below the cut, Minors DNI

masterlist | part one | part two

The VIP Section looked like what you imagined any VIP part of a high-end club looked like. Quieter. More Elegant. The entire bar had an industrial feel to it, but the upper section was a classier version of that. The more expensive alcohol safely stored behind the bar, a purple back light subtly casting a soft overglow above it. The tables had a glass top, the floor was a cherry oak hard wood flooring and significantly less sticky than the floor downstairs.  

The music wasn’t as loud in this section you’d noticed, being able to hear everyone’s conversations more clearly. Not missing how someone cleared their throat behind you softly, making you spin a little quickly causing you to blink up at the brown eyed stranger from earlier.  

“Here, you look like you could use it.” Extending the hand that was holding a shot glass filled with what you could only guess was vodka due to the lack fo colour. Cautiously, you eyed the man up before taking the glass from him and lifting it to your nose instantly- yup definitely vodka. 

“You’re supposed to drink it. Not sniff it.” He couldn’t help but laugh as he watched you recoil at the smell. 

“What kind of psychopath shots pure vodka?” 

“Well, you looked like you needed it after what happened down there. But I can take it, if you can’t handle it-” 

“Who said I can’t handle it?” Your eyes narrowing in on him, suddenly remembering where you recognised him from.  

Anthony Mackie.  

You’d read about him. The tamer one out of the trio. The one to reel in the other men when things got out of hand. Known for his firm but fair approach when dealing with the business. Until you ticked him off, you’d heard horror stories of how bad business deals that had gone wrong resulted in men leaving in body bags or a broken limb or two. His wife had recently had a baby, a little girl, which had seemed to calm him down a lot. Less angry or short-tempered people would say. They’d managed to keep it out of the press for the best part of a year, the world only discovering when they were pictured dropping her off at day care one day. No one outside of his inner circle even knew she was pregnant.  

Your eyes never leaving him as you lifted the small glass to your lips and threw the liquid back, it instantly burning on its way down. Anthony laughed as you spluttered out of a cough, your fist covering your mouth. “See. Piece of cake.” You rasped out between coughs making Anthony laugh even more, his boisterous laugh booming over the music.  

“You’re funny.” He complimented, nodding his head over to the bar. “What you drinking?”  

Before you could open your mouth, Lizzie’s voice could be heard from the other side of the room, her shrill shriek of your name made Anthony retreat to the bar and when you turned to face her, she had that same old worried expression on her face. The wrinkles forming between her brows, her lips stretching into a thin line and her eyes big. Ari trailed closely behind, feeling a little out of place as he shuffled on his feet, refusing to make eye contact with anyone else beside you and Lizzie.  

“What the hell happened? What did he do to you? Did he hurt you? Do I need to hurt him? Heels make a good weapon, one jab in the eye should do him good.” She prattled on, her arms flailing around as she spoke with determination, her eyes dark with anger.  

There was only person in the world who hated Ransom Drysdale as much as you. Lizzie.  

“Liz, calm down!” Your hands grabbing her shoulders and giving them a shake. “I’m fine, he didn’t do anything, Scarlett stopped him, so did Sebastian-” 

“Sebastian?!” She squeaked out, making everyone turn to look at you both- including Sebastian.  

“Alright, calm down.” Ari’s low voice rumbled, his large hand falling to small of Lizzie’s back. “Why don’t we go and get a drink, yeah?” Lizzie shrunk into Ari’s touch, hiding her face in her hands, peeking through her fingers at you and smiling sheepishly.  

“You must be Ari,” you beamed up at the burly man when he leaned down to press a kiss to Lizzie’s temple, instantly calming her, a puff of air pushing past her plump lips.  

“Nice to finally meet you, do you need a drink?”  

“I got her covered, Tarzan.” The new voice suddenly irking you, the feel of his touch had you recoiling at first, taking a small step away from him. You knew who it was without looking, his smooth voice resonating in your ears. Feeling bad for the way Ari’s gaze casted down slightly, guiding Lizzie around you both and heading towards the bar, not missing how Lizzie stared him down with a snarl.  

Chris Evans. 

“You’re so rude.” You grumbled at the blue-eyed man you’d been cursing for the past 48 hours, not daring to make eye contact. 

“Don’t be like that sweetheart-” 

“I told you, don’t call me that.” You snapped, turning to face him and snatching the second drink out of his hand and heading towards the back exit.   

Stepping outside the into the cool night air had goosebumps raising over your skin, your breath clouding in front of you when you breathed out. The sight of the Boston skyline calming you, for the first time tonight you felt comfortable, no crammed feeling of a club, no Ransom, no playful pressure from Lizzie to do shots, no Chris- 

“So, Ransom Drysdale huh?” You heard before you saw him, as he fell into your eye-line stopping to stand next to you, resting his elbows on the railing, looking ahead.  

Drysdale was a surprise to him not remembering seeing his name when he and Jensen looked into you. It bothered him that much that he found himself ringing Jake shortly after Scarlett had rushed off with Anthony and Seb to help you. Despite the hour and his whiny complaining Jake did as he asked, but couldn’t find anything on you and Drysdale. Chris assumed it was just Drysdale being a creep on you in the bar, but he remembered how shaken you were after, downing the shot from Anthony and your shoulders relaxing instantly.  

“Are you stalking me or something?” You spat, sipping on the drink he gave you minutes ago.  

Yes. “Don't flatter yourself princess,” he quipped back, taking a sip from his own drink.  

“How’d you know Drysdale? From what I hear, he’s a bit of a shady character.” The concern that laced his voice made you want to snort out a laugh, but the motion soon fizzled away when you saw the way his jaw ticked at the mention of Ransom.  

“It's not flattery. Your unread texts, unanswered calls and the flowers currently sitting in my sink are proof that you are.” Taking another sip, you watched Chris’s grip against the railing tighten, making his knuckles turn white from the corner of your eye. A smug smile stretching across your lips behind your glass. He took his time answering you, like he waiting for his temper to cool down before speaking. 

“Never pegged you as a roses type of girl.” His jaw still tight when he spoke and his tone cold, making you roll your eyes.  

That pissed him off to. Why can’t you just give him a straight answer? Why aren’t you falling at his feet? Like he is at yours?  

“Can never resist a prick.” Ignoring the way Chris smirked at you, his body now turned to face you and his hip resting against the railing. One thing you couldn’t ignore, how good he looked tonight. The crisp white shirt which had three buttons undone at the top, the sleeves rolled up and it nicely tucked into his black, skinny dress pants. The way the veins in his forearms constricted whenever he moved had you swallowing slowly, his cologne had you dizzy as it clouded your senses.  

Before you knew it, he was looming over you, both of your glasses now resting on the railing as he took another step closer to you. Your entire body shivered when he ran a finger up and down your arm, his other hand coming to lift your chin, making you look at him. You didn’t know if it was the dark night and having the moon as your main source of light, or the alcohol that was currently coursing through you. But you couldn’t stop a small gasp escaping when you looked into his eyes, the blue mesmerising you.  

“Do you need a ride home, princess?” Every fibre of your being should hate the new nickname, it was as demoralising as the first one. Try telling that to the butterflies that erupted every time in your stomach, especially when he rasped it like he just did. That had those butterflies melting and racing down to your panties, your pussy clenching around nothing and dampening the material.

“She’s not going anywhere with you.” Lizzie’s voice snapped you out of the daze he had you in, his hands falling to his sides and allowing you to take a step back only for your best friend to come and stand in front of you, her arms crossed her chest and fowl scowl resting across her brows.  

“Lizzie-” 

“Haven’t you harassed her enough already?” She snapped again, ignoring your attempts to move her or calm her down.  

“It’s just a ride home, a peace offering.” Chris tried to reason, seemingly unbothered by her attitude, carding his fingers through his hair and shoving the other hand in his pant pocket. 

“Peace offering my ass.” His response had her snorting and shaking her head. You had to agree with her there. “Was getting her suspended a peace offering? Or a message?” Her eyes now narrowing towards the towering brunette, unphased by who he was or the power he held. It went quiet and the air between you three became thick, both Chris and Lizzie staring each other down like it was a contest- was this a staring contest.  

“Ok, this is ridiculous.” Moving around the blonde you came to stand between them, clicking your fingers at Chris. “Blink! What are you, five?” Chris slowly blinked and Lizzie smirked but that disappeared quickly when you narrowed your eyes in on her. “Go find Ari, I’m fine.”  

Lizzie knew that tone, she’d been on the receiving end of it many times before, especially when it came to Ransom. She had a habit of inserting herself into situations, out of love, to protect you.  

After what felt a few minutes of silence, just the sound of Chris shuffling on his feet as you felt him move closer to you, his hand planted against the railing behind you. “You don’t leave this club without me attached to your hip, you got it?” Her green eyes flicking to Chris and narrowing in on him when she noticed how close he was to you. “I mean it.” Her index finger now pointing at you.  

“Yes, you got it Olsen. We arrive together,” 

“We leave together.” You both said, heat tinting your cheeks at the cheesy mantra you’d both created after a night where you had a run in with a creepy guy during girls' night.  

“Good.” She beamed at you, “when you’re ready to leave you come and find me.” Her smile fell and turned into a scowl when she looked up at Chris, making you stifle a giggle and Chris could’ve sworn his heart fluttered at the sound of it. He didn’t know what the meant but he knew one thing, he would do anything to hear it again, wanting nothing more than to be the one making you giggle as he whispered cheesy jokes into your ear.  

The thought alone made his knees turn to jelly, making him weak.  

Chris cleared his throat, watching Lizzie retreat back into the bar and only spoke once she disappeared. “Your friends are... protective.” He then moved his gaze back down to you, watching as you turned back to face the view of Boston, your hands resting on top of the railing.  

He couldn’t stop his heart from beating a little faster when he realised you hadn’t moved away from him, his breath hitching slightly at the thought.  

“You could say that.” A breathy laugh caused more foggy breath to gather.  

“That because of Drysdale?” He couldn’t help himself, he needed to know, it was a constant itch he had and it wasn’t going away until he found out your history with that asshole.  

He watched as your eyes fluttered closed, your head nodding slowly.  

“Huh, ex?” He probed, finding himself wanting to know how far he could push you with this.  

You nodded again. “Ex who doesn’t understand heavy hints or boundaries.” It was Chris’s turn to laugh this time, it was small and quiet but it made your chest bloom with a warmth nonetheless. 

“What happened?”  

“God, you’re a nosey bastard, aren’t you.” Shaking your head, a coy smile tugging at the corners of your lips. “Isn’t that he’s my ex enough information for you?” Turning your head to look up at him, your breath hitching when you realised how close he was, noses almost touching.  

Chris’s hand fell to the small of your back, his head shaking as he took his bottom lip between his teeth. “I can’t help myself. I need to know everything about you, Princess.” Another step closer, his pecs now brushing against your shoulder through his shirt. “You’re like this... drug to me. Everything about you,” you watched his throat bob, “drives me crazy.”  

“We dated,” you suddenly squeaked out, effected by his admission, your legs becoming wobbly at the thought of being so close to him. Head dizzy at the thought of him obsessing over you. It was an intoxicating feeling, something you’ve never experienced with anyone. Not even Ransom. “For five years,” you took a step back, needing some space between you both, Chris’s hand falling from your back and you found yourself wanting to chase his touch, missing it.  

Five years and there’s nothing about you both? Chris found himself asking in his head.  

“But it didn’t end well, didn’t really start that well either. I found him in bed with another women, the biggest cliché way to find out.” Waving your hand dismissing the memory, not wanting to dwell on it. “So, on my way out I slashed the tyres of his vintage, one of a kind, 1972 BMW.” A wide grin now taking over, no matter how many years pass that memory will always fill you with pride.  

Chris mirrored your grin, his heart now slamming against his ribs at the view of your smile. This was the first time he’d seen it and he knew he wanted it to be the last thing he saw at the end of every day.  

“Morning!” Lizzie beamed the next morning as you stumbled into your kitchen, not phased to find her sat at the breakfast bar. Your mind still fizzy from the alcohol and shots you put away last night. 

Your conversation with Chris had been cut short last night by Scarlett dragging you back in for a round of shots. But you didn’t miss how he lingered close by, keeping a watchful eye on you. Something you found incredibly annoying at first, but the more drunk you got the more comfortable you became around him.  

“You know,” Lizzie started once she realised, she wasn’t going to get a reply from you. “It was so nice of Sebastian to let us stay in the VIP section with them last night.” She sighed dreamily, making you snort with your back to her as you poured ourself a coffee.  

“You’re only saying that because you didn’t pay for a single drop of alcohol last night,” turning to face her and leaning against the counter, wrapping both hands around the mug to warm yourself up. “Also, he let Ari finish work early-” 

“Morning ladies.” Ari suddenly appeared from the hallway dressed in the clothes he wore last night, his hair framing his face perfectly.  

“Ari, you’re here.” You announced, shocked and blinking at his tall figure, you didn’t remember him coming home with you both, or Lizzie asking you.  

“I asked!” She blurted out, smiling sheepishly when he placed a quick kiss to her temple. “I didn’t want to leave you alone last night, you were going on about how you were confused, but wouldn’t tell me what you were confused about.” She rolled her eyes, sipping on her coffee. “So, I asked if Ari could stay with me, you said yes.” 

You remembered what you were ‘confused’ about. The thought making you inwardly cringe at yourself. 

Chris. 

His change in personality towards you had you confused on how to feel towards him. Your brain, the logical voice inside your head, was telling you to give him the cold shoulder, ignore his pathetic attempts of being a gentleman. He got you suspended for fucks sake! But your heart, the non-logical voice talking back, was telling you to give him a chance to show you he isn’t what you think he is- a dickhead. His softer approach tugging on your heartstrings.  

“I was drunk, I’m sure that’s called ‘taking advantage’ of someone.” Playfully narrowing your eyes at her. “Help yourself to coffee and something to eat Ari.” Turning to beam at the beefcake, him returning your smile before making his way into the small kitchen and instantly taking up half the space with his size.  

“Hey! You never let me raid your fridge!” Lizzie pouted from her stool, folding her arms across her chest.  

“Yes, because you’re an animal. You have rules for a reason. The last time I let you raid my fridge I had nothing left! Not to mention you broke my oven!”  

“That fob was faulty-” 

“The door fell off.” You pointed out, your brow perfectly arched as you moved out of the way for Ari to make a coffee, his laugh loud and boisterous as he listened to the tiff.  

“You know how I get when I’m hungry.” 

“What? You turn into the Hulk?!” Dodging the napkin, she balled up and threw at you. “Ari is more than welcome to use my kitchen as he pleases, because he’s not a fucking animal. You're on restricted access, coffee pot only and even then that’s questionable.”  

The next few minutes were filled with silence as you both watched Ari moved around the kitchen swiftly, making you both something to eat. When you tried to argue he claimed it’s the least he could do for taking advantage of you last night. Loving the way Lizzie was watching him with big, doe eyes, like she was falling in love with him at this very moment.  

Lizzie and Ari fit together like a jigsaw puzzle. They’d met on a night out. Ari was working the door and Lizzie had turned up with Scarlett as her date for the night, she’d been entranced ever since. You'd heard all about the beefy, handsome bouncer the next morning over coffee with her and Scarlett. It didn’t take Scarlett long to hook them up, he had her number that same day. She hadn’t had much luck when it came to boys in the past, first dates never ending well or things just fizzling out after a couple of months of dating. Ari seemed good for her.  

It had been a couple of hours since Ari and Lizzie had left, you had retreated back to your bed to nurse your hangover in the most pathetic way. Shutting all the blinds, diving under the covers, Friends playing from your laptop, salty chips, chocolate and soda all resting on your bedside.  

You didn’t realise that you’d fallen asleep until the sound of your phone vibrating against the bedside table had your stirring, reaching for your phone as you remained under the covers. Your hand slapping across the surface until you found it, bringing it under the covers and answering it without looking at the caller ID.  

“Yeah?” You grumbled into the speaker your voice slightly muffled by the covers.  

“Is that the correct way to speak to your boss? Your boss who is ending your suspension early.”  

“What?” Now sitting up, the covers pooling at your waist. “Are you serious?”  

“Serious as a heart attack.” She quipped courtly into the speaker, an irritated sigh falling past her lips. “Do you want to come back or not?”  

“Yeah, yes!” You blurt out before she could finish speaking. “But, why? You said two weeks.”  

“What you did was wrong, you shouldn’t have done it, off the record or on.” She tsked, her tongue clicking in annoyance. “And I would rather be doing anything else on a Sunday morning.” A hint of resentment in her tone as she spoke. “But this offer is fleeting, you have now and now only to take it.”  

“I’ll see you Monday.”  

“8am. Sharp. Or you’ll be back on suspension quicker than you can blink.” Was all she said before hanging up on you, leaving you dumbfounded.

The rest of Sunday passed in a blur after your grumpy phone call from your boss. You spent the rest of the day questioning why you being brought back so early if she had held resentment over what you did. But Lizzie squashed your concerns, explaining that you were going back to work not a week into your suspension and that you should be grateful and not question it.  

But that didn’t stop you from overthinking it, even as you walked through the office and found your desk as empty as you left it. You couldn’t stop the anxiety that bubbled in the pit of your stomach, creating an uneasy feeling. Checking your watch, 07:50am. You were early, hopefully that would bode well. 

“You’re early.” Came your bosses voice from her office, her eyes trained on you.

Or not. 

“Yeah, I needed to get a coffee before coming in.” You recalled, walking to the door of her office, hesitating at the doorway. Before your suspension, you would’ve had no problem walking to her office, but it was like you were having PTSD or something. You couldn’t bring yourself to walk in and sit opposite her.  

“You’re covering fashion this week.” She ignored the way your face fell at her instruction, turning back to face her computer. “I need three articles by Friday, the email has been sent over to you.”  

“Fashion? Isn’t that normally Ellie’s section-” 

“Not this week. Ellie will be covering interviews.” The section you shared with Janie, your section. “Don’t give me that look. You dug your own grave. The fashion section is me being fair, it could’ve been a lot worse- I could’ve had you on coffee runs for the week.”  

“Then why did you bring me back?” Taking a step inside her office and closing the door behind you once you noticed people starting to filter in. You watched as your boss's brow arched up in surprise at your tone. “If you’re still angry about what I did, which was my job by the way. Why did you bring me back?”  

Her next move surprised you. You didn’t expect her to exhale through her nose, her shoulders to slump and her attention to be back on her screen. Normally, she would have some bitchy comment back or pull rank and dismiss you from her office loud enough for everyone to hear. “I didn’t have much of a choice in the matter.” Was all she said. 

“What?” 

“Don’t you have articles to write?” She snapped at you. “Close your mouth and go back to your desk, before I regret bringing you back.” Her perfectly manicured hand waved you off before you turned on your heels and headed out.  

“Hey, you’re back!” Janie cheered, her arms wrapping around you in a tight hug. “Why didn’t you tell me?”  

“I didn’t know, until last night...” you trailed off, still confused as to what your boss was talking about.  

A sudden vibration in your pocket pulled you out of your trance, distracting you as you fished it out. Your brows furrowed together in frustration seeing Chris’s name pop up, swiping your phone you opened his message.  

Chris: Enjoy your first day back, princess. 

“Motherfucker.”  

[rubysunnday]

kill of the night

A/N: It's been almost two years since I started this blog. My first work on here was for Peaky Blinders. But with the show coming to an end, my inspiration lacking and new shows taking my interest, I have decided to bid farewell to writing for this fandom. A special shoutout to @smallheathgangsters @lotsoflovefromlea @theshelbyclan and @murswrites for being my first friends on here and for supporting me throughout. I genuinely would not still be writing if it wasn't for you lot.

And so, without much further emoness, welcome to my final fic for Peaky Blinders - a suitably angst ridden, shelby!sis ft Bonnie Gold story as a final send off

💜

It was hard to stop staring at herself in the mirror. Y/N was struggling to accept the fact that she looked gorgeous and that she was wearing one of the most expensive dresses she'd ever owned. She poked at her hair again, neatly curled and set as hard as a rock, and sighed, standing up straight.

She pulled on the straps of her dress, pulling the golden fabric back up her shoulder and then tugging the front down until it was back in position. The golden tassels swished as Y/N spun around, checking the back was still done up.

It was weird. Dressing up in high-end fashion and makeup after years of poverty and barely surviving. Sometimes, it almost felt like a dream - one she would inevitably awake from and realise she was still in Watery Lane sharing a bed with Finn.

But this was her life now. The expensive shoes, the diamond jewellery and the expensive painitngs. Tommy Shelby had fought his way to the top and dragged his family with him, ignoring their kicking and screaming the entire time. Y/N had lost so much in the process but, just for tonight, she wouldn't change it for anything.

There was a dull ache in Y/N's chest as she put her necklace on - one that John had given her so many years ago. It had gotten easier, she couldn't lie. There were days - weeks, sometimes - when she wished he was still here but ultimately, she couldn't afford to dwell in the past.

After all, dwelling in the past had gotten her brother killed.

Y/N snatched her coat up from the back of her chair and draped it over her arm as she picked up her golden heels and left her room, shutting the door behind her with a kick of her foot.

"Y/N, for fuck's sake how long does it take to out a dress on, Jesus Christ!"

"Alright, Tommy, just because you don't give a shit about your appearance doesn't mean the rest of us can't," Y/N muttered, jogging down the stairs to the foyer.

Tommy looked up as she jumped down the last few steps and then slipped her heels on, leaning on the wall. He rubbed his cigarette between his lips as he eyed his sister.

"You look nice," Tommy grunted, clicking his lighter into life and lighting the end of his cigarette.

"Thanks," Y/N replied, shuffling her foot into the shoe. "Where's Lizzie?"

"She's running late - feeling under the weather," Tommy said, exhaling the smoke and sighing as he blew it out. "Ada said she'll pick her up in a bit."

"So, it's just us for now?"

"Yep." Tommy picked up his coat and whipped it on, flicking the collar up and then down. "Come on, I've got shit to do."

Y/N rolled her eyes but followed her brother out the front door. She opened her purse and dropped her lipstick in it - the metal container lying amongst her perfume, powder and her hand gun.

"Y/N!"

"Fucking hell, Tommy, I'm coming," Y/N muttered, slamming the front door shut and walking over to the car. "What is so urgent? The match doesn't even fucking start until seven."

"I have business to attend to beforehand," Tommy grunted, setting the car into gear and pulling out the driveway.

"Does that business begin with Alfie and end with Solomons?" Y/N asked, pulling her shawl around her shoulders and bunching it in front of her chest.

"I hate how fucking perceptive you are," Tommy muttered, purposefully putting her down a pothole.

"Everyone does, darling, everyone does," Y/N said, sighing to herself.

Fists meeting flesh, yelling, swearing and the heavy stench of sweat and smoke filled the hall. The lights shining down onto the boxing ring were forcing the temperature of the room up.

Yet Y/N was having the time of her life.

"Go on, Bonnie!" Y/N yelled, jumping to her feet as he landed a decent punch to his opponent's stomach.

Here, she didn't have to pretend that she didn't enjoy the violence or that it disgusted her. She could enjoy it. Rising through the ranks of society had come with its pitfalls and to be honest, Y/N missed the random street fights she and Finn would get involved in. She missed coming back from school littered in bruises and scrapes but beaming with pride at knocking down some misogynistic boy.

The first round came to a sudden end and Y/N jumped up from her seat and weaved through the men until she was outside the hall. She pulled her cigarette case out of her purse and walked down the corridor until she was outside the side door.

She only had to wait a few minutes.

"You look horrible," Y/N said as Bonnie appeared through the door, covered in sweat, blood dripping from his lip and nose, panting for air.

"You look fucking beautiful," Bonnie replied, stepping closer and pinning her to the wall. He leant his head down and captured her lips with his, leaving a lingering kiss behind as he let go. "Oh, what I would give to rip that dress off and have you right now."

"If only you weren't sweaty and covered in blood," Y/N replied, pushing her index finger into his chest and shoving him backwards. "I'm going to the bathroom before you ask," she said, taking his hand and walking backwards.

"I am going to go back to my fight," Bonnie said, following her down the corridor, a stupid grin on his face.

Y/N yelped as Bonnie shoved her against the bathroom door, biting her lip as he kissed her, his hands trailing up the back of her thighs, bunching her dress up higher and higher.

"Nope, nope, no, not whilst you are so disgusting," Y/N said, pushing him off her. "I want you to have at least stuck your head in a bucket before you take my clothes off."

"You are no fun, Miss Shelby," Bonnie muttered, kissing her again. He rested his forehead against hers and sighed, closing his eyes. "I'd better go."

"Just think of it this way: the sooner you win, lose, whatever it is you are meant to be doing, the sooner you can have me... all of me," Y/N added, looking at him. "Now," she pushed a manicured fingernail into his chest and pushed him back. "Go."

Bonnie rolled his eyes but left, jogging down the corridor and back to the hall. Y/N yanked her dress back down and shook her hair out. She leant back against the bathroom door, biting her lip as she smiled, relishing the taste of Bonnie's lips on hers.

Y/N pushed open the door and walked into the bathroom, coming to a sudden halt as she came face to face with Polly and Lizzie staring at her with matching stupid smiles.

"Oh, fuck off," Y/N said, walking over to the sink.

"I suspected it was gypsy boy," Polly said, smirking.

"What, did your tea leaves tell you so?" Y/N asked, turning to face her aunt and raising her eyebrows.

Polly whacked Y/N on the arm and she yelped, dodging back and rubbing her arm.

"Ow, what the fuck, Pol?"

"Have some respect for your elders," Polly ordered, pointing her finger at her.

The bathroom door swung open again and Ada walked in, dressed in pink and gold. "This fight is fixed right?" She asked, approaching her sister. "Gypsy boy is getting battered."

Y/N rolled her eyes, pushing herself up onto the sink and swinging her legs. "Yes, the fight is fixed. Bon knows what he's doing."

"Bon?" Ada asked, raising her eyebrows incredulously. "ucking hell, Y/N, how far have you fallen for him?"

"Aight, can you two just please shut the fuck up," Y/N asked, glaring at her aunt and sister. "Fucking hell."

"Right, you said you had some news," Ada said, effortlessly switching the conversation away from Bonnie.

"Lizzie has some news," Polly corrected, looking at Lizzie in the mirror.

Lizzie turned around and gave Polly an irritated glare. "Polly!"

"Well, tell them, go on," Polly said, picking a cigarette out from her silver case. "Now!" Polly handed Y/N a clear bottle of vodka. "Have a swig - you'll need it."

Y/N took the bottle and uncorked it, taking a sip before Lizzie could even speak. "Go on."

Lizzie sighed. "I'm up the duff."

Y/N choked on the vodka. "Eh?"

Lizzie turned around, leaning against the sink with a loud exhale. "And it's Tommy's."

Y/N stared. "Have you lost your mind, Lizzie?"

"She's certainly lost something," Ada muttered, too quiet for anyone but Y/N to hear. "How far gone are you?"

"If we were going to London, I'd be in Conventry."

Y/N raised her eyebrows. "Wow. I mean, sorry, just wow." Y/N shook her head. "Congratulations!" She exclaimed, jumping off the sink and hugging Lizzie tightly.

The bathroom door opened once more and a grumpy looking Linda walked in, a face like thunder.

"Hey, Linda!" Polly called. "Welcome to the extraordinary general meeting of the Shelby Ladies Club!"

"The men out there are disgusting," Linda moaned, taking her fur off.

"Well, it is a boxing match, what were you expecting?" Y/N asked, touching up her lipstick. She put the cap back on it and smacked her lips together. "Which, by the way, I am going to return to."

"Why, so you can kiss your new boy toy?" Ada asked, raising her eyebrows and winking.

Y/N gave her sister the middle finger over her back as she walked out of the bathroom. There had been a reason why she hadn't explicitly told anyone about her and Bonnie. Her last relationship with Isaiah had been subjected to her brother's brutal opinion's and had ended before it really even began.

So Y/N had no qualms with keeping Bonnie to herself for a bit longer.

She was immediately assaulted by screaming, smoke and someone shouldering past her without a word of apology.

"Oi, watch it you - Arthur, where the fuck are you going?" Y/N asked, stumbling back as he barged past.

"Don't matter, go sit back down," Arthur grunted, walking off without even properly acknowledging her.

Y/N turned and watched Arthur burst out the doors, swinging them open so hard they bounced off the walls. She hesitated for a moment before following after him, not trusting him to be sensible.

"Arthur, where the fuck are you going?" Y/N called, following him down a dimly lit corridor, the sound of the fight fading the further away she got.

Arthur growled and turned back, marching up to her. "Y/N, stay out of it, aight? Go back to the fight."

"Arthur, don't you dare order me around like I'm ten!" Y//N yelled, throwing her hands up in despair as he walked off and ignored her. "For fuck's sake."

She sighed and ran a hand along her stomach, trying to calm her temper. Y/N walked down the corridor and into the changing room, sitting down on the bench and groaning to herself.

She was sick and tired of her brothers diminishing her and pretending she didn't exist. God, all she wanted to do was try and help and yet they never seemed to want her around anymore.

As brilliant as being rich was, Y/N yearned for the simpler days. The days when they were together in one room, eating the food Polly had cooked from the scraps they could afford.

Y/N looked up as a door squeaked open. She frowned, sitting up straighter, her hand disappearing into her bag and pulling out her gun.

"Arthur?" Y/N called, standing up and approaching the door. "Arthur, stop fucking around."

Y/N took a gentle step forward, trying to quiet the sound of her heels on the tiled floor.

Something suddenly went around her throat and she was yanked back into a man's chest. Y/N gasped and choked as she tried to pull the wire away from her throat, blood dripping down as it cut into her skin. Y/N choked, feeling the air in her lungs vanishing as she desperately tried to fight off the man behind her, wrestling with him.

Y/N fumbled around with her gun, trying not to lose her grip on the metal. She got her finger on the trigger and fired a single shot, the shell bouncing off the wall. The man forced the gun out of her fingers and it clattered to the floor.

Y/N's legs gave out from under her and she fell to the floor, black spots dancing across her vision as the wire was tightened. It cut into her neck, deepening the cut and causing more blood to drip down onto her golden dress.

The man dropped her to the floor as her consciousness faded, no care for how her body slumped onto the tiled floor, blood running onto the tiles and seeping underneath her. Y/N blearily stared ahead, unable to move or do anything, and saw the man pick up her gun, turning and aiming it at her.

Another gunshot echoed out and the man fell to the floor, a bullet hole in his chest.

Arthur leapt over the body of the man who'd attacked his sister and fell to his knees beside her, lifting her up into his arms. "Y/N, hey, come on, Y/N!"

Tommy burst into the room and skidded to a halt, staring at Y/N and the blood staining her and Arthur.

"Arthur, go find Finn and Isaiah," Tommy said, walking up to him and pushing him to his feet. "Go on! Go!"

Arthur reluctantly backed away from Y/N, letting Tommy take his place, lifting her limp form into his arms and pressing his hand to her throat. Her eyes were closed and he skin was lacking any colour - far too much blood was seeping out her throat and neck and onto the floor and her dress. She looked dead.

"Stay with me, sweetheart," Tommy muttered, rocking her back and forth the way he used to when she was a baby. "Just stay with me."

Tommy looked up and made a decision. He got up, blood staining his hands and shirt, and left Y/N on the tiled floor. He burst around the corner and faced Polly, gun aimed at him. She relaxed but then spot the blood on his hands and her eyes widened, panic taking over.

Tommy caught her, holding her back from going into the room and seeing the horror. He knew he spoke but he couldn't hear himself speak - ringing was taking over his hearing and he was in a daze. He didn't remember walking back to the hall, he didn't remember climbing onto the boxing ring and he didn't remember firing his gun into the air and screaming at a room of strangers that his sister was dead.

All he remembered was Charlie taking the gun off him and hugging him, falling to the floor with him as Tommy realised the truth of what had happened. His sister was dead.

Two black horses pulled the green and blue wagon down Watery Lane. The street was lined with mourners dressed in black, the women with veils covering their broken faces, the men holding their hats against their chests.

Tommy walked behind the wagon in the middle of the family. Arthur to his left, Polly to his right. Finn and Ada walked behind, Michael next to them.

Tommy had hoped - had been so certain - that he wouldn't have to bury another sibling. That he would be dead long before that time came. But here he was, cap between his hands, eyes cast down low.

He was ashamed of himself, for letting his little sister get involved in the dark, grimy world in the first place. For letting her become exposed to the horrors the world was home to. Tommy inhaled deeply and sighed, his eyes focused on his feet as they walked.

First John. Now Y/N.

They'd be buried next to each other on the hill where their mother was. Y/N's wagon was adjourned with violets and iris - as was her gravestone. It was the brightest and most colourful one up on the hill. Just like her.

Long after everyone left, Tommy stayed by himself on the hill, looking down at the grave. He ran a cigarette across his lips and lit it, inhaling deeply.

"Death feel good?" He asked, exhaling the smoke as he spoke.

A veiled woman came to stand next to him, hands clasped around a bunch of violets.

"Death is peaceful," Y/N said softly. "I appreciate it."

"Good."

Neither sibling spoke. Y/N walked forward and crouched down, laying the flowers against the gravestone with her name upon it.

Y/N Shelby

Beloved sister and friend

'Greed may do your bidding, but death serves no man'

"Where will you go?" Tommy asked, looking down at his cigarette.

"Travelling with Bonnie. Might find Esme."

"Good."

Tommy inhaled on his cigarette once more before dropping it to the wet grass and stamping it out with the heel of his shoe. "See you around, sister."

Y/N nodded, looking down at her grave. "See you, Tommy."

Tommy walked away, his black shrouded figure disappearing down the hill. Y/N sighed, shaking her head slightly as she looked up. The fog hung low over the fields, clinging to the trees like a blanket.

"How was he?" Bonnie asked, appearing from behind a statue.

"Same," Y/N said quietly. "Distinct lack of giving a shit."

Bonnie hummed in agreement, pressing a kiss to her cheek. "You're dead now, love. You don't have to worry about them." Bonnie paused. "Do you miss them?"

"No."

Bonnie lifted his head and gave her a surprised look. "None of them?"

"Ada and Finn perhaps but..." Y/N sighed. "The one person I would miss died a long time ago, Bonnie. Nothing has been right without him."

"I understand, love," Bonnie said quietly. "I'm glad you're still here."

"Me too, my love, me too."

Y/N sighed and dropped her head onto Bonnie's shoulder, looking down at her flower adjourned grave once more. She felt at peace and at one with the world for the first time in years. Only in death could such peace be achieved and that's, essentially, what she was. Dead to everyone Tommy.

Who knew how peaceful death could be?

[slashingdisneypasta]

Kurt Kelly x Fem!Bitch!Reader || Oneshot

Title: Someone Gets Hurt

Plot: Some little wannabe steals away your boyfriend, Kurt, while also batting her big ass lashes and winning over your friends, too... until you've had enough. No one out bitches you.

Notes:

Obviously, this is inspired by Someone Gets Hurt from Mean Girls except with Regina (The reader) as the heroine.

Warnings: Overall bitchiness, possessiveness (You about Kurt), break ups (Make ups too though so its not too bad ^^), the ruining of another persons relationship (Random girl Lizzie and Kurt's), rapeiness (Ram), sexual references, underage drinking, overage drinking, just LOTS of debauchery over all, a smut bit near the end (Not full), etc.

Was I too proud with you? Was I too cold and forbidding? And you chose her over me Are you kidding?

Watching Kurt and Lizzie together this week has been torture. Terrible, burning, squeezing, not-at-all sexy torture.

Because Kurt, is yours.

He has always been yours. He was yours in kindergarten, he was yours in middle school, and he was yours all through highschool until this, unfortunate and butt fucking ugly, snag. Crossing your arms now and poisoning them with your eyes, you sit in the cafeteria... and think.

Just, think.

You don't gossip with your minions about all the bullshit going on in school, you don't discuss what you're going to do to the freshmen this year, no. Nothing. You're too busy... plotting.

There is no way in hell, that this pee-brained virgin bitch is going to steal your boyfriend, and not get paid back in turn. Its only fair- and you include interest, in your transactions like this.

One eye actually twitches, when Lizzie... the pee brained virgin bitch in question, gives Kurt a peck on the nose - oh so cute, but you don't even have to look at Kurt to see the disappointment flash in his eyes, - and hops off his lap when the bell rings. He has a free period now, you know because so do you and you usually spend it at the back of the football field together, but she has Chemistry, a thing you also know because hell- you just know everything. That's a basic fact. The whole school knows it and love that you never have to explain how you just fucking know shit.

But even being all knowing does not make you feel better, knowing that itty bitty roach-cunt has her claws embedded in your poor, weak-willed... ex boyfriends,... heart. Or his penis, more likely. Metaphorically speaking, obviously, because Lizzie's the 'Mary'est whore in the land of Westerberg High.

That doesn't really matter though. Either way, he's with her now and not you, and that just wont do.

Maggie, your right hand babe, gets up from your lunch table and leaves for her next class, too. And its only until she's out of sight, that you notice the piece of paper she left behind. Rolling your eyes, a growl of annoyance escapes you and you sigh- turning away from Kurt and Ram's table to see what the fuck it is. The reprieve is almost palpable, not looking at him anymore. It feels a little better- but not by much. And certainly not enough for you to forget what fuckery is going on.

Picking up the piece of paper in one perfectly manicured hand, you see that its an invitation. "Hmm... " Worrying the inside of your cheek, you think; This is interesting.

A Halloween party...

A gleeful smirk quirks slightly at the corners of your lips.

Kurt always did have a thing for Halloween.

~

And what you meant by 'Kurt always did have a thing for Halloween'- is 'Kurt always did have a boner for your Halloween costumes'. For the past several years, since the two of you blossomed with the help of puberty, you have used your assets as an advantage - because why else have them? - ; With the help of lace tights, push up bra's, winged eyeliner and red lipstick.

This year you've pulled together your favourite costume yet, which is fitting for the task at hand and the fact that its senior year- this may be your last chance to put these bottom dwelling highschool chuckleheads in their place.

I mean, you hope not but its basically a given.

Looking around the party as you walk in, you figure its just the same as any party Ram has thrown before. And his house is perfect for it, you'll give him that. The lights a turned down low enough that everyone looks a little hot, cooler's full of ice and alcohol are set up so you're never too far from a fix and thanks to his houses sound system the music is loud enough to make you think for a couple hours that you're in a place between reality and your dreams; A perfect set up for mistakes and one wild night.

But you aren't here to get drunk and kiss a loser, except for Kurt; You're here to take back the goddamn crown. Which getting Kurt back, will do. It'll humiliate Lizzie, and that's really all you want out of life right now.

Prowling through the crowd - which still knows to part for you, despite your current, slightly lower social standing, - in your knee high, shiny black leather boots, you look for someone to talk to. You know Maggie's here somewhere but that bitch is on her last life with you, after she said Lizzie's hair looked nice the other day. And you think some silent treatment will set her straight.

"Oh- Hi Ram." You find the host in the backyard, about to push an unsuspecting demoness into in a very sheer red blouse into the pool - which would doubtlessly make the blouse more of a red tint to her skin rather then any kind of coverage, which Ram well knows, - , and he double takes when he sees you. A sleazy, mischievous grin slops over his face at the sight, which makes you roll your eyes.

Deeply.

"Ohhh, heyyyy, Y/N!" He has to yell over the sound of the music and the other party-goers, not that you would mind if you didn't hear anything he said. He hasn't got a whole lot of substance, Ram, so you can basically assume that rolling your eyes is always the answer to anything he's saying. His eyes shift back, anxiously, to the girl he's currently got a hit out on, but you just raise your eyebrows sharply at him and he's at attention. "I didn't know you were gonna come! You know, with the state of things... "

Oh, he's so obnoxious. And dumb! So, so dumb. He doesn't know the half of your shit. Yet he still runs his mouth... Rolling your eyes once again, you flip some hair behind your head. "Oh don't worry your pretty little head about that, Ram." Eyes flickering around the party some more, searching for your own target, you rest your hands on your hips that are tightly bound, in various layers of violet georgette cloth. The witches hat on your head is pinned down, so theirs no chance of it flying off. You have a train of thinner fabric hanging down the back of your short-short skirt, and your tight tube top reveals exactly the shapes you require it to. "I'll be perfectly fine- oh, have you seen Kurt anywhere?"

"Uhhhhhhhhhhh I think I saw him and Liz against a wall earlier- but by the looks of Liz, I doubt they're in a situation like that anymore." He chuckles, dumbly. The stupid boy has a slur in his voice that you hadn't noticed before but probably should've known would be there. But you're sure focusing in on him now, jealousy burning in your eyes at his description. What does that mean??

"What?"

A geek walks by, toting a bottle in his hands that Ram snatches for himself. As the kid continues by, faster now due to the angry look in Ram's eyes and the animalistic growl that slips from the footballers lips, you continue to glare bullets at Ram. He takes a messy swig of his beer before continuing. "Just sayin', Y/N. Your friend's a prude. Won' even let Kurt get to second base with 'er or anything. So I'd say Kurt's, probably, uhhh... by the pool table, now." He shrugs big round shoulders then, as relief and mirth wash over you. So he didn't mean they'd have moved their dirty little adventure to somewhere they could really get down, or anything. He means quite the opposite.

A smirk graces your red painted lips.

"Well- enjoy your party." You shrug, not really caring as his eyes shine... turning back to the demon girl who's just laughing with her friends; He sure will. Eyes narrowing, you mutter a bitter "Dick." under your breath, as a final bid to Ram.

Turning on your heel, you head back into the house. You've been here plenty of times with Kurt and know exactly where the pool table is (And how uncomfortable it is to be bent over) and sure enough- there he is.

Your boyfriend.

Or, soon-to-be, once-again boyfriend.

He's standing back with a stick, waiting for his turn as he laughs with some over football boneheads. Lizzie isn't here, but you suppose she could have gone to get a drink or talk to one her - your, - friends, but where she is actually doesn't concern your in this moment. All you can do right now, is stand and stare.

God, he's hot.

You miss him; You really do. And, admittedly- not just because he can fuck you like no one else.

But your moment passes, and you gather your wits. Ready.

You're hot, you're smart, and you're ruthless. You can do this.

Saddling up beside Kurt, a genuine smile slips across your face as you look up at him; Running a hand back through your hair. "Hey, Kurt." Slightly widening your eyes, you raise a brow as he turns to look down at you. "What's up?"

Like- its been a while. What have I missed?

Immediate 'Oooooh's and 'Oh no the ex- Kurt watch out!'s erupt from his meathead athlete friends, but what you care about is how Kurt struggles for a moment to tear his eyes away from yours, like the eyeliner you perfected and the colour and the just- you, has hypnotised him. He flashes his friends a wicked grin, waiving them off as he turns to put his body between you, and the group. It puts you so close together- and you sure don't step back any.

Then his eyes flicker down to the rest of you- and he really has a problem looking away. "Oh, uh, hey Y/N. N-nothing much. Uh... you look... "

A gentle chuckle flutters out of you, resting a hand on your right hip. "What? Black cat caught your tongue?"

Jesus- even the mention of that particular muscle reference to him does something to you. And being this close to him again, and seeing his reaction to your outfit... its all just so right. The way things should be.

He opens his mouth to say something else, but immediately closes it again on remembering something. A seriously awkward hm sound escapes him which you don't quite get yet, but you decide that you don't need to.

"So... " You start, getting rid of the tough bravado suddenly... letting awkwardness seep into your tone; Your appearance. On purpose. Eyes downcast, you let your arms slide down to your sides again, lacing your fingers together in front of you for a moment, pretending you're at a loss for words. "Um... maybe this is... weird... "

"What?" A big hand ghosts over your hip- you can just feel his skin graze against you.

You look up to catch his gaze again suddenly, lips and eyebrows scrunching after a moment, unsurely. "Uh, well... " Chewing innocently on your bottom lip, you hold your arms behind your back; not-at-all meaning to push out your chest more. No, not at all... "Me coming up to talk to you... since the break up... "

A hiss escapes him, as he suddenly, seemingly, like just seeing you had him returning to old habits, remembers that fact himself and takes a step back from you. Your brows knit together, up at him- perfectly pitiful.

"Oh man- yeah. Maybe. Fuck!" He runs a hand up through his hair, looking convincingly tortured.

Already!

You could rejoice.

Oh, Kurt... we've only just started.

Sighing, you look away again. "Look, I'm sorry. I just... well, Kurt, I've missed you!"

Suddenly his eyes, still and focused, turn more sternly down on you and your insides squirm at it. Like muscle memory, your body screams for you to back up; Get on your knees, bat your lashes. Ask what's wrong, Daddy?

His eyes narrow, and you resist the temptation to smirk. "Oh- no. No, Y/N. I know what you're doing, okay? I'm not dumb! This is all just too... too... " The fact that he cant even really speak, even as he's trying to be all tough and put up walls between you two, really gives you confidence. You must still really have an effect on him- as you should. Of course you do. One week with a little lily livered slut bag does not erase an entire lifetime between two people. Kurts lips curl into a scowl. "You're not like this." He states, and you raise your brows. Oh? "You're manipulating me, aren't you? Come on, Y/N!"

His tone is pleading. He's begging, you.

Damn, he must really want Miss Lizzie's little ass.

After a moment, you shrug. "Okay, whatever, you got me." Shedding the innocent act, you lean back on the pool table as the boys continue to play; Laying yourself out for him. "Does that mean I was lying? No, I really do miss you."

He scoffs. "Yeah, right." Rolling his own eyes, he focuses his gaze off somewhere else in the party- rather then on you. "All you care about is your reign of terror."

Oh... he knows that's not true.

But still, if he's going to play that way- "Yeah, sure- and all you care about is pussy." Shrugging, you drum your fingers bordly against the edge of the table on either side of you. "I guess we're a pair."

"Fuck, Y/N... you know you're... y-you're... Damn, that I love you. You fucking know that." He hisses, getting mad. And you inwardly smirk.

There it is...

Tightening your grip now, you look up at him to see he's once again looking at you. And for a moment, amongst all the madness that party's are- it feels like its just you two. "And you know... I love you."

Pushing off the pool table, you stalk towards him and trace your hands up his chest; Locking your arms around his neck lazily, and resting your chest against his. And you can see it. You can see, the struggle inside him about whether to just give into you- and your tits and your lips and your hips, and- just, you! Or to stay away. Because you're poison; Even you're well aware of that fact.

You're like a boa constrictor. You get yourself wrapped around your victim and you squeeze, and squeeze, and squeeze... until you have them just how you want them. Moulded into a shape that works well, for you.

But he's a lion. Imposing, and selfish, and self serving. And too big for you to ruin.

Its like you said; You're a pair.

And you cannot give him up.

"Kurt... come on." Leaning up, and talking in a quiet, just-for-him voice now, your lips brush against his and he lets out a shuddering breath. "We belong together, don't we? Its us- forever. You've known it since second grade. Sure, it took me a few more years to realise it too, but we're here now." Sincerity bleeds into your tone; Something you can't help when he looks like he wants to kiss you so badly, like that. "It can't be you and her." It cant. Tilting your head to the side, teasingly, you smirk mischievously; Just for him. "Is she going to fuck you like I do?"

"Shit... " Kurt mutters, eyes stuck on your lips. His hands find your waist, gathering you up against him roughly like he always does when he just wants you. Animalistically, wherever you are- whoever sees be fucking damned.

But he still isn't taking you. And that's a problem.

Brushing a thumb over his bottom lip, you turn your head like your making out to kiss him- but don't. Furrowing your eyebrows, you look pleading at him for an answer. "Was it all a lie, then? With us? Were we?- "

And that does it- he's had enough- he's at boiling point- Lips smash into yours, crossing the centimetre of space between them and he doesn't fuss around at all, to warm up. Your tongues connect almost instantly, and in 0.2 seconds, you two are that moaning, making out mess couple that every party has.

Through your lust filled haze, you can just about feel victorious.

A few moments after that your back hits the closest wall, and your legs wrap around his waist as he holds you up- you two know the drill by now. Kurt's grinding his raging hard on deliciously through his jeans into your bare cunt- moaning and muttering something into your cheek as he sloppily makes his way down to your breasts about you being such a slut.

You REALLY don't mind.

Eyes half lidded, you catch sight of Lizzie in the crowd behind Kurt. The crowd that, apart from her, doesn't care at all what the two of you are doing.

You smirk absolutely evilly towards her, before mouthing 'mine'.

[meetmeatthecoda]

Hey Coda! ☺😁 I hope you are well!

I wanted to ask if you had ever watched gone with the wind, and if so, I was wanting to know if you would write a little drabble or short work with our red and lizzy with these quotes: "I'm not kind, I'm just tempting you," and "No, I don’t think I will kiss you, although you need kissing, badly. That’s what’s wrong with you. You should be kissed and often, and by someone who knows how." 🥺💜

If you can't or have never seen it, I totally understand and it is no problem! Thank you ☺

Hello there, anon!! 😁 I am indeed well, thank you very much for the well wishes!! 🥰 And, omg, what an unexpected but very welcome prompt ask!! 😍 I actually haven't ever seen Gone With The Wind (bad Coda, bad) but I'm certainly familiar with these, the most famous quotes from the movie & I love them for Lizzington!! I know it took a few days (I'm sorry!!) but I was inspired enough to write a quick thing for you!! I'm currently having All The Conflicting Feelings about writing Lizzington (I'm about to make a post about it, standby for that LOL) but I did have a fun time writing this little thing & - even if it's pretty bad which it may be lolz - I'm very grateful for this prompt!! 🥰 So, I hope you like this silly thing (under the cut, btw, I'll leave it off AO3 for now, I think), thank you very much for your sweet, kind, & considerate ask, & much, much love to you, of course, my friend!! ❤️

“I can’t believe you screwed that up!”

Liz bangs into the empty hotel room with Red on her heels, stalking into the suite as he slams the door behind them. She throws her clutch down onto the nearest table and spins abruptly to face him where he’s stopped close behind her. Her arms cross instinctively in front of her body and the skirt of her black dress pulls taut around her knees as she plants her feet, the stilettos of her high heels digging into the expensive carpet.

He appraises her confrontational posture, his fingers unconsciously tapping his thigh, his eyes wandering subtly over her body.

(Not for the first time this evening.)

“I think that’s a little unfair,” he comments primly, the corners of his mouth pursed in displeasure at her anger.

“Oh, really?” she barks. “Which one of us was too busy chatting up his associates to see our mark come and go from the party? Because it wasn’t me!”

She can see Red grind his teeth, his jaw flexing warningly at her accusation. “I was gathering intel,” he bites out, his deep voice all deliberately strained patience. “To help us catch this blacklister! With it, we don’t need the mark.”

“Oh, perfect,” she says sarcastically, throwing her hands in the air. “So, I got dressed up in this little number and wasted a Friday night working for nothing. Great.”

“Well, I’m very sorry, Agent Keen,” Red says, coming close to matching her sarcastic tone. “I apologize for ruining what I’m sure were very exciting Friday night plans with a silly little thing like catching a dangerous criminal. How inconsiderate of me.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” snaps Liz. “For all you know, I did have plans!”

“Did you?” he asks bluntly, taking her by surprise, and making her jaw snap shut in indignation.

He says nothing, but his eyes flash victoriously, the corner of his mouth twitching in satisfaction before he turns away from her, his hands rising to untie his black bowtie and tug it out from under his collar with jerky motions.

Liz’s eyes narrow at his forced nonchalance, her body flushing with anger.

(And - though she is loath to admit it - a fair share of arousal, making a potent mixture all too familiar to her bloodstream from the aftermath of nearly every one of their arguments.)

“And what about you?” she demands suddenly. “What did your Friday night plans consist of? Deliberately dragging me to a party where you knew nothing of interest would happen simply so you could ogle me in a dress? Don’t think I didn’t notice your wandering eyes tonight, Reddington!”

He whips around, his eyebrows rising almost comically high on his forehead, but Liz spies the slight flush in his cheeks that betrays his flustered expression. With pent-up adrenaline and frustration coursing through her body, she decides in a wild instant to throw caution to the wind and take a chance.

(And it doesn’t help that he’s strutted around in a tux all evening, looking fabulous and knowing it, and - with his tie now gone and that expression on his face - he looks just this side of disheveled and wild and it’s not nearly enough for her.)

“Well, are you going to deny it?” she says, her voice lower and more sultry than before, as she uncrosses her arms and shifts her stance to walk the few steps toward him across the carpeted floor of the suite. “Are you going to tell me you weren’t looking at me every time my back was turned, your gaze lingering longingly? Are you going to tell me your fingers weren’t itching to glide over my skin when you so gallantly guided me through the door of the ballroom earlier this evening?”

Liz continues walking forward, crowding into his personal space until he starts backing up, and she slowly steers him toward the nearest wall, fixing him with a sensual look and enunciating her ‘r’s’ because she knows it drives him crazy. 

“Are you going to tell me you weren’t licking your lips and pretending they were mine?”

His back hits the wall with a thud and Liz doesn’t stop moving until she’s pressed deliciously against his front, her heels eliminating their slight height difference and bringing them to even eye level as she walks her fingers up his chest, fire and danger sparking through her veins at the dark look in his eyes as they flit to her lips.

“Are you going to lie to me…Raymond?”

The skin under his eye twitches and she knows she’s won, and she smirks triumphantly before she pushes away from his body, trying to ignore the way hers seems to keen in protest.

He works his tongue in his mouth for a long moment before he manages to speak. “…That wasn’t very kind of you.”

Liz huffs a mocking laugh. “I’m not kind. I’m just tempting you.”

(And her heart aches a little at the untruth, her body still rebelling at the fact that he didn’t respond to her cruel taunting.)

“Although I am surprised you didn’t kiss me when you so clearly want to.”

At her final jab, her last ditch effort to elicit a response from him, his eyes narrow and a warning skitters down her spine at the intent suddenly present in his gaze.

(And a thrill of excitement soars its way up her chest because finally -)

Without a word, his hands suddenly dart out to grip her hips and he’s spinning them, Liz’s back hitting the wall with a thud identical to one he made, and they’re suddenly pressed even closer together than before, her hands moving up to grip the lapels of his shirt on the swift journey.

“No, I don’t think I will kiss you,” he murmurs darkly, his eyes fixed on her lips nonetheless. “Although you need kissing, badly. That’s what’s wrong with you. You should be kissed often, and by someone who knows how.”

Liz’s mouth falls open at the unexpected insult mixed with a compliment and he watches the movement with rapt attention. Her fingers leave the fabric of his shirt to press warningly into the flesh of his upper chest, the warmth of his skin beckoning her.

“Oh, and you think you’re the one who can fix that?” she hisses, daring him.

“Oh, I’m certain of it…Lizzie.”

And it’s the self-assuredness of his words, combined with his deliberately indecent tone, and the damn nickname that she’s sure he knows she secretly loves that weakens her knees, making him press her further into the wall to hold her upright.

(That, and Liz is pretty sure he’s right.)

“Well, why don’t you prove it?” she whispers, her gaze slipping to his mouth, catching a glimpse of his slightly crooked teeth as his lip curls, her entire body tingling in anticipation.

At her quiet challenge, his control snaps.

He lunges forward, capturing her mouth with his in a desperate open-mouthed kiss that has her moaning almost instantly, the warmth and pressure exactly what she’s been craving since she slipped this dress on with him in mind, and her hands move to cup his jaw as it works feverishly against hers, his tongue moving to tangle with hers.

His kiss is artful, calculated, and passionate all at once, and Liz has the delirious thought that he was definitely, definitely right; she needs to be kissed like this, by him, very, very often -

And the arousal that swamps over her when he curls his tongue in her mouth surprises them both and suddenly she’s leaning back against the wall and wrapping a leg around his hip, making him grunt in surprise and cup a hand under her thigh, groaning lowly at the feel of her skin where her dress is riding up.

She’s just about to guide his hand underneath to where she’s getting desperate for his touch when he rips his mouth away from hers with difficulty, and her eyes fly open impatiently to see his decidedly smug face, his lips distractingly kiss-swollen and red, and she rolls her eyes, too far gone to care.

“Oh, shut up,” she snaps, and tugs his willing mouth back to hers.

[peakywitch]

Fuck Men - John Shelby

“Hello i hope you’re still accepting requests! Can i ask for one with John Shelby. Y/N goes out with her friends and gets roofied (someone put drugs in her drink) and they call john and it’s all messy and full of angst. John comes in with Arthur and Tom and they try to make her vomit it up and he’s crying and fluff at the end. Hope you’re still raking requests I really love your writing! Xx” 

Warnings: drugs intoxication, alcohol, this one is little disgusting sorry

words: 1580

masterlist

I ain't got time for you baby, either you're mine or you're not

Make up your mind sweet baby, right here, right now's all we got

Although The Garrison was one of the best pubs in town, the one run by the Germans, Die Rotte, a few blocks from it was best for having an actual good time. That's where you could find Y/N and her girlfriends every other Friday night. They weren’t exactly women exclusive, but only the best men could get inside.

It was quite a delightful place, to be honest. White walls, art deco everywhere, good alcohol, an amazing band who played the best Charleston in town. The night was one of the best nights. It was a chilly summer night, so dresses were being shown off.

“Y/N, try this!” screamed Lizzie with ecstasy, handing her a glass.

“What is it?” she asked from the table, seeing her friend coming from the bar.

“It’s called Fallen Angel! It tastes like lemon and...just try it!” Lizzie had a beautiful smile on her face, maybe it was snow or the facts that she had gotten a proper job.

A little party never killed nobody, so we gon' dance until we drop

A little party never killed nobody, right here, right now's all we got

“Ok, I’m in. Get me one!” she smiled, after swallowing the exotic greeny drink.

Lizzie started her way once again to the bar and after Y/N held a small conversation with Ada, who was almost as drunk as Lizzie, she came back.

“Here is to us, ladies.” she started to distribute the questionable amount of alcohol between the six women on the table “Fuck being a fuckin’-” she interrupted herself “Fuck men!”

“Fuck men!” the other women chorused, but Y/N could only smile.

She was the only one who got a decent love story. But a decent love story won’t stop anyone from drinking a whole glass in just ten seconds, does it? No, it doesn't.

Time passed by and the night was getting better and better, almost like a movie. The dance floor was filled with sweaty couples dancing non-stop to some loud charleston that rumbled in their hearts, threatening to leave their bodies.

Her legs started to feel weaker, but she knew that was alcohol because it’s the first sign: fragile legs. She knew the others were feeling the same, because they had taken the same amount, or even more.

“I need air!” screamed Y/N, trying to make Ada understand her over the music.

“You need her?” asked her sister in law in return, the music had her going.

“I need…!” she began again, the room started to spin faster and faster, the trumpets were making her head weight and her ears buzz. “John, Ada…”

“Y/N!” voices began to scream her name, but the noise was clouding her mind, and her eyes were not responding anymore, being covered by her heavy eyelids.

But just as she tried to reach out for Ada’s arms, she fell.

“Liz!” screamed Ada, panicking “Lizzie!”

She appeared by her side in a split second, and saw her on the floor, holding her unconscious sister-in-law. 

“Oh Lord, Y/N!” she screamed and knelt by Ada’s side.

She tapped her face abruptly, trying to wake her up.

“She’s not waking up!” they both stated in fear and got her out of the dancefloor screaming to the other dancers.

They sat her on their table, and wet her face with the ice cube that her glass had. While Lizzie was focused on her friend and bathing her neck with the cold water, Ada had her eyes on Y/N’s Glass.

“Ada, another one! Come on, it’s not-” she turned her face and saw Ada’s eyes stuck on her glass “Did…?” she whispered, forgetting about everything.

“There’s something white, Lizzie…” Ada began to tear up, thinking about her friend being harmed.

Lizzie left the bar as rapidly as she could, and ran three blocks down to the Garrison. Her chest was getting cold, and her ankles started to hurt: high heels were not meant for running on a messy street at three am, drunk and scared.

She began to scream John’s name even before she reached the entrance to the Garrison.

“John! Shelby! John! John!” she entered the Garrison, not forgetting to scream Shelby's name. He wasn’t in the big room, he had to be in the booth.

His name burned her throat, she said it so many times she started to forget what to say.

“John!” she burst into the private booth, and everybody stopped laughing.

“Lizzie?” asked John confused, she was supposed to be with Y/N.

He knew something was up, he saw it on her face.

“It’s Y/N!”

He got up as quickly as he could, even faster. Lizzie didn’t have to say another word, for he was running down the street, fearing the worst.

A soft and cold wind was drying his lungs, but it would take more than just wintery weather to prevent him from running towards her. Not even war could stop him from whispering her name in his prayers. If he prayed, it was for her. For her to be safe during the disgusting Spanish flu, for her to be happy during those birthdays he was away, not knowing if his “Happy Birthday” letter would make its way before he took his last breath.

“Y/N!” his voice echoed in the pub, and his throat almost ripped.

“John!” cried Ada, not knowing why her friend wasn’t responding.

And in a few confusing seconds, her body was over John’s shoulder, he was trying to get her out of there.

“Please stay with me, I need you.” he kept on reciting as if he was trying to memorize those exact words. “Please, I need you. Stay with me.”

The walk from the bar all the way to the house in Watery Lane was infernal and everlasting. He couldn't pronounce the words correctly, he was mumbling desperate thoughts, which made no sense on his lips.

Polly, who was spending a cosy night in, opened the door, as an answer to the shouts from her nephews. And as John entered the house in a rush, he placed the girl on the couch, trying to make her wake up.

“What the hell are we even supposed to do!” Ada cried, not knowing why she wasn’t waking up.

“What did she have, Ada?” he asked, taking his blue vest off.

“We don’t know! Her glass had something white at the very bottom, we don’t know what happened, John.” She was about to pull her hair off her head, she was sure it was a nightmare.

“White?” he screamed “She got her drink fucked over and you tell me now?” he was roaring, scaring Ada even more.

“Why don’t you take the girl to the doctor, instead of screaming to your sister?” Polly confronted him “Fighting Ada won’t stop time, it’s making you lose it!”

“John!” his oldest brother entered the house, nervous and curious about what was happening. Tommy was walking right behind Arthur.

“Y/N is under some fucking drug, and I don’t have any idea of what to do…!” he was about to cry, his eyes were stinging.

“What was in her glass?” asked Tommy, taking his jacket off.

“She was drinking a Fallen Angel and there was something white and dusty at the very bottom…” remembered Ada, cleaning her constant tears.

“So it was at the bottom, good to know it didn’t dissolve,” Tommy answered, and walked up to John.

“Brother, listen to me.” he said, taking John’s face in his hands “You take her to the bathroom, and we know you hate puke, but you have to make her vomit.”

He began to instruct quickly on how to help her, and John was suffering by the simple thought of hurting her.

“You won’t hurt her, you just…” Tommy was being careful with his words for the first time in ages, and John was thankful “You just touch everything in there, and it will result. Trust me, she’ll be alright.”

John walked into the bathroom with her, dead weight.

“I’m so sorry, please wake up…”

Some say you float, some say it’s like a dream. Some say you feel everything around you, some say you don’t even realize. But it was fucking disgusting for Y/N, she was dancing a popular Charleston and, when she opened her eyes, she had his husband fingers all the way up to her throat, making a nightmare out of a party.

“What the fuck!” she screamed, feeling how even her soul could leave her body in that same minute.

Both of her hands gripped onto John’s shirt, as she was still not seeing a thing.

“I can’t fucking see!” she screamed, scared to death.

“Don’t worry, Y/N.” said a voice from behind her, she was scared “It will come back to you in a few seconds, don’t worry.”

John hugged her, tightly against his chest.

“John.” she relaxed her body, while susurrating his name.

“Don’t you ever scare me like this again, because next time I might not survive the fear.”

“I’m sorry I scared you, I love you.” she apologized, while her fingers danced in his neck.

“I need you by my side until I die, please don’t leave before me.” he was being truthful, it was never hard for him when she was by his side.

“I’ll try not to, love. I’ll try not to.”

@deepdonutkid @a-golden-sunflower-vol-6 @stydia-4-ever @natural-hearts @lovemissyhoneybee @girlwith-kalei-do-scope-eyes @peakyrogers @writeroutoftime @peakyxtommy @nyotamalfoy @pinkeijin @lukeymybabe @eternallyvenus

[opinionatedoctopus]

challenge: prompt 2 for instinct, but make it not angsty.

So um. I got carried away. From this prompt list, here is:

Dressing Down

“Maybe I wasn’t clear enough last time.” Julian drawls, giving Dylan the most judgmental up-down he’s ever seen.

Lizzie smothers a snort. Traitor. It should’ve been her in that outfit.

Dylan poses, his eggplant colored dress shimmering in the fluorescents of the precinct office space. “No, you were plenty clear, Jules! Lizzie simply wasn’t up for being the bait today and since our fish is open to all fish in the sea…” His peanut colored lips pull into a smile.

Julian stares wryly at the lipstick that compliments the dress and Dylan’s eyeshadow rather well. The biggest issue, for Julian, is that the dress, meant for Lizzie, is much too short on Dylan. The diamond patterned fishnet stockings pressing into Dylan’s thighs aren’t helping. 

“Right.” Julian’s voice comes out louder than he intended. “Right. Well, time is of the essence if we are planning to catch this murderer. Did Lizzie help you wire up?”

Dylan taps the mic hidden in the–oh god he’s wearing a choker–

Detective Harris walks in, stack of papers in hand, ready for a late night. He stops in the doorway, turns, and retreats back to where he came from. Good, Julian thinks. Then he thinks he’s glad it wasn’t Fucci.

He hears a faint “you do not want to go in there” from the hallway. Lizzie is snickering again. Julian wishes he had his gun on him.

“You should be able to hear me. Test it?” Dylan spins on his heel perfectly, of course, and flounces out of the room. Julian stares. Since when does Dylan flounce? Fumbling, Julian hurries to put his earpiece in when the door shuts.

“Hello? Jules, can you hear me?” Julian accidentally locks eyes with Lizzie and she has the most shiteating grin on her face. Dylan’s voice, with the mic so tight to his throat, sounds as if Julian has his own ear pressed to the man’s throat himself. 

Julian is a professional. He does not shiver. He doesn’t even breathe. Maybe that is not a good thing. He clears his throat. “Right. Yes. Everything is functioning.”

If he hears Lizzie mutter “Are you sure?” he definitely doesn’t give her the two finger salute. She doesn’t see it. She’s fiddling with her phone. 

“I’ve never been a honeypot agent before!” Dylan sounds far too excited to be seducing a killer.

“Get back in here.” Julian snaps through the line.

Dylan slips back into the main room. Everything he does is graceful. Julian wishes, for once, that his friend were wearing his usual form-fitting suits instead of this. His eyes find themselves back on Dylan’s thighs. Fucking hell.

“I’ll be right back,” Lizzie announces, and practically skips toward the lobby. She shoos off some gawking officers on the other side of the glass walls.

Dylan and Julian stare at each other.

Julian wishes Lizzie had left Dylan’s usually perfectly coiffed hair alone. It looks like goddamn sex hair. Ruffled, fluffed, wrecked. A fingers-run-through-it kind of mussed. Julian wishes he’d helped instead of Lizzie. He wishes a lot of things.

Clearing his throat, Julian says: “Lizzie did a good job.”

Dylan smiles again. “Lizzie did nothing but sit on her phone, but that’s high praise from the connoisseur of dating gentlemen! When was your last boyfriend? France? ‘96?”

Julian flinches.

“Sorry.” Dylan’s voice is too quiet. 

Julian shrugs a mask on, easy as breathing. “No harm done. We never would’ve worked. I’d forgotten him almost entirely!” Dylan has that look on his face. The one that stares right through you. Julian continues. “Besides, it’s been ages. Lots of other lovely partners since.” Julian flicks his eyes to where Lizzie had disappeared and this time it’s Dylan who flinches. Then bristles.

Julian leans back in his chair, itching for a fight. It’s easier to meet than the alternative. Eyes narrowed, Dylan opens his mouth to respond, but Lizzie re-enters. 

With Andy.

Oh god. Lizzie’s conniving little face has somehow gotten more smug.

“Dylan!” Andy speeds up when he spots his husband, but when Dylan turns, delighted, Andy freezes in his tracks. “Dylan.”

Julian and Lizzie both open their mouths to defend the necessity of the mission before they really notice the look on Andy’s face. Their mouths both snap shut.

Dylan meets his husband where he’s frozen. “Hello.” He says. And Julian has to look away.

The couple converse quietly and Julian can’t stop sneaking looks at the private moment. Andy can’t seem to keep his hands to himself. Julian’s eyes track the movement. The quick press of skin on fabric. The gentle touch of Andy’s hand just under Dylan’s earring–does Dylan have pierced ears?

It doesn’t help in keeping Julian’s wandering eyes to himself that Andy is dressed down. The last time they saw each other, Andy was still at the law firm wearing those suits that made him look as rigidly uncomfortable as a Ken Doll. But this Andy…the one in a simple button down, a few buttons popped, bar towel still slung across his shoulder… his jeans… Julian looks away for as long as he can manage, but that hardly lasts a minute. 

He types blindly at his computer. It’s embarrassing that he has the code pulled up that he does. Not that anyone else knows it’s fake code, but Julian does and that’s enough to mortify him. The last time he had this screen up, he was pretending to hack the FBI for some malicious overseas contacts that were hellbent on terrorism while he waited for backup. Now he has it open to pretend not to stare at his best friend and his husband. His eyes drift back up.

Dylan is whispering in his husband’s ear and Andy’s eyes meet Julian’s. 

He should look away. Really he should. But…he’s never seen Andy like this. Andy is always so…reserved isn’t the right word. Julian can’t be bothered to find the right one. 

Andy’s hand flexes against Dylan’s hip and Julian manages to break eye contact. To stare at the unusually possessive curl of Andy’s hand against the deep purple of Dylan’s dress. God.

Then. It gets worse. Andy’s fingers uncurl from his husband’s figure, shift, then spin Dylan to face Julian.

“Well,” Andy says at a normal volume, “I won’t say I condone another undercover mission, but I will say that Jules will not be getting this dress back–” Dylan laughs. “Stay safe, sweetheart.” And he gives his husband a pack on the cheek before nudging him forward, offering him back to Julian. And Detective Needham. Lizzie. The other person that’s here. 

Julian grabs his “water” bottle and takes a swig. Maybe he should’ve filled it with tea today. He needs something calming right now.

Then Andy is gone, back to the bar, Lizzie is switching into professional mode, even if the laughter in her eyes has not diminished in the slightest. He will pay her back for this.

The mission itself is a bit of a blur. It is exceedingly difficult to concentrate with Dylan full on flirting with another man with his voice sounding as it is, but the threat to his friend’s safety overrides the temptation to lose himself in the moment.

He misses the confession, but Lizzie doesn’t, moving in to arrest the man from her position at another table in the bar. Before he knows it, the team is back in the precinct, gathered around his setup. A few of the graveyard shift officers are applauding Dylan and Lizzie, so Julian gives a few rounds of applause to fit in, but all he can do is stare at the smudge of lipstick just off of Dylan’s mouth where, logically, he must’ve taken a drink or wiped his mouth and forgotten his makeup, but all Julian can wonder is if kissing that mouth would taste like the peanuts the lipstick color is imitating.

“–Jules. Hello?” Dylan snaps his fingers. Julian jolts. The bastard grins.

“Sorry. Long 48 hours.” The excuse drops easily from Julian’s lips. Dylan smiles knowingly, Lizzie makes herself scarce. Once again: traitor.

“Well, usually Lizzie and I celebrate with Andy at the bar after we close a case, but she has ‘plans’ tonight.” Dylan clearly doesn’t believe his partner any more than Julian does. That’s the absolute least effort put into a lie he’s ever seen, but, he admits to himself, Lizzie never has been fond of lies.

“Are you inviting me in her stead?” Julian arches an eyebrow.

“Yes. Andy will be happy to see you again for more than thirty seconds.” Dylan offers a hand and Julian lets his friend help him from his chair. He holds Dylan’s hand just a moment too long. Or maybe Dylan held his. Julian feels like he’s going insane and Dylan is still in that damn dress.

Somehow he packs up his equipment and makes it out the front doors of the precinct, Dylan at his heels. In fact, Dylan’s heels are the reason Julian is determined to walk ahead of him. They make his calves look sculpted and Julian really can’t afford any distractions before getting on his motorcycle. New York driving is hellish enough and he refuses to die before getting to the bar.

TBC?

[editorandchief]

Choice We Made|Bonnie Gold

Warning: None

Pairing: Shelby!reader x Bonnie Gold

Summary: Reader and Tommy aren’t seeing eye to eye which leads them to make some rash decisions.

Being Tommy Shelby’s daughter Y/N never felt like her father really loved her as much as everyone thought, of course he was protective of her like her was for the rest of the family but protecting cane with the Shelby name.

It wasn’t always like that just as many thing Tommy changed after the war, and no matter how hard she tried she could never get him to look at her as he had before. That was until Grace showed up, she put the spark back into her fathers eyes the only difference was he only had it for Grace not her, and once Grace snitched them out and left it was back to the same cold, emotionless stare that he had before.

“No” Y/N said staring unwaveringly at her father.

“What?” He asked even though he and everyone else had definitely heard her. Tommy had just announced the ‘glorious’ return of Grace and the upcoming baby and wedding.

“I said fucking no.” She replied.

“Well it seems you mistook my relay of information at a request for permission.” Tommy stated and his usual cold stoic voice. “This is happening.”

“So she snitched you out, leaves you high and dry, and marries come Calvary man.” You list off as you stand from your seat. “and after one fuck we’re supposed to welcome her back with open arms?”

“What you mouth.” He warning pointing his finger between her eyes.

“Carful Tomas your wouldn’t want anyone to know your my father.” She snapped back.

“Y/N I know I haven’t exactly earned your trust-.”

“I’m not talking to you whore!” She shouts at the blonde who in her eyes made it even harder to receive her father affection.

Slamming his fist onto the table Tommy to get a to his feet now staring you in the eyes.

In situations like this people could really see that you were indeed Tomas Shelby’s daughter. You shared the same deep blue eyes, jet black hair, and chilling demeanor.

“Now I’ve had enough of this, Grace is having my child and both of them will be apart of this family.” Tomas tells you.”

“Fine.” Y/N stated pushing back her chair and starting for the door.

“Where the fuck are you going?” Tommy asked having how sat down rubbing his forehead in frustration.

“Marry you whore Tomas have you child.” She opens the door. “But is she’s apart of this family, I won’t be.” She finishes walking you slamming the door leaving an eerie silence in her wake.

“Are you just gonna let her go Tomas?” Polly asked waiting for her nephew to do after his daughter.

“Leave her pol.” He replied reaching into he breast pocket pulling out a cigarette. “She just need to blow off some steam then she’ll be done with this tantrum.”

“Tantrum? My niece just denounced our family and left this house.” She said snatching the cigarette from his lips. “You better hope this is just a tantrum.”

Two Years Later

“Just two targets.” Aberama stated knowing Y/N were already a bit hesitant to do a job in Birmingham, as she, Aberama and Bonnie watched as the two apparently Italian men setup and aim at what looked to be a funeral. “Y/N.” He called nodding in the direction of the man who seemed to be keeping watch.

Unfortunately for him he was watching in the wrong direction as she easily snuck up behind him covering his mouth before shoving her knife into his neck only to deal out several more to insure the job had been done, not taking any notice that the other Italian mans attention was now on her as well as his gun only turning at the sound of Bonnie’s gun launching a bullet at the man’s back.

“You should be more careful dove.” Bonnie slightly chastised as he moves towards her laying a kiss on her forehead.

“Why would I need to do that with you around?” She joked back as Aberama belt the final shot into the chest of the man Bonnie had shot.

Mounting the back of Bonnie’s horse as the men loaded the bodies onto the back of the others.

“Polly!” The familiar voice carried across the field has they rode closer to the group, it was stupid of her not to think it would be her family the caravan burning should have been her first close, not a lot of gypsy families in Birmingham. But who was dead?

“500 each, 100 for the brace,” Aberama informed not stopping for confirmation. “Where do you want them?” He asked.

“Charlie take them to the yard.” Tommy answered not even looking up if her had we would have seen the eyes identical to his belonging to the daughter he lost two years prior.

“Y/N,” Polly calls drawing her and everyone else’s attention, it had been so long since anyone had even dared to say the name of the missing shelby. “Y/N Shelby, and where the hell have you been? Off the fucking horse, Now” she ordered. Deciding that obeying would give her a better of survival on the inevitable scolding she was in for, dismounting the horse after insuring Bonnie she would meet up with him later.

As soon as her feet were sold on the ground Polly wrapped her around waist leading her away from the black clad crowd, but not before her eyes were drawn to Tommy only to find his following her as she exited the field.

✨

Arriving at Charlie’s Yard with Polly, Ada, and Lizzie was a relief to Y/N, after hours of being yelled at by Polly and a little by Ada then immediately smothered with hug and kisses both demanding to know everything about her travels over the passed years.

Although she did miss most of her family she had to admit it was still a bit awkward in the presence of the people she thought would have forgotten about her by now. The news of John’s death had also left her a bit in shock not knowing what kind of condolences she could offer for the loss of her uncle and her cousins.

“Never did I think my high heels from pairis would be stepping through the shit of small Heath again.” Polly complained as they entered the yard were it looked like dinner was just getting stated.

“In only temporary pol.” Ada assured as they went to take their seats.

Y/N made her way to the end of the table toward Aberama and Bonnie, the younger of the two sliding over a seat to make room.

“How was it.” Bonnie asked as Y/N became comfortable in her seat as Bonnie secured his arm around her waist placing a kiss on her lips.

“Well I’m alive.” She answered laying her head on his shoulder. “Which is more than I expected.

Part 2 ?

[bamby0304]

The Hart III: Secrets

Chapter 21: Back to School

Series Masterlist

Summary: Three months… Dean was gone for three months and now he’s back. He’s back and he truly has no idea how much things have changed. Life moved on while Dean was in Hell, and now things are complicated. With new faces and troubles right around the corner, will the trio find a way to come back together? Or has all hope been lost?

Warnings: Implied smut

Bamby

SPOV

Dressed as an orderly, sitting in a room in a mental hospital, a clipboard in hand, I faced the teen girl across from me. Apparently, she killed another girl from her high school, the thing is, she swears it wasn't her, that she was possessed, which is why I was here.

Refusing to look at me, April shook her head. "I'm not talking about it anymore. I already told the cops and the doctors. No one believes me. They think I'm crazy."

"Well, I'm a little bit more open-minded than most." I offered a comforting smile. "April, why did you tell the police you were possessed?"

"It doesn't matter."

"It matters to me."

Hesitating a moment, she let out a sigh as she told me the story. "When I- when I hurt Taylor, I was there, in my head, but I couldn't control my body. I could see what I was doing, but I couldn't stop. I just wanted to stop. I'm sorry."

"You don’t need to apologise," I assured her. "April, some of the kids at school told the police that you and Taylor didn't get along."

"Well, yeah, but I never wanted to kill her. Never. Do you believe me?"

"Yeah, I do." It was the truth. "Just a couple more questions. On the day this happened, did you... happen to smell anything?"

"Anything... like what?"

"Like rotten eggs? Or... sulfur?"

"Um, no."

"Okay. Um, did you notice any black smoke?"

She frowned. "What are you, crazy?"

...

Opening the passenger door of the Impala, I slid into my seat as Dean turned to me from behind the wheel. Lizzie wasn't in the car though. She was doing something for me, for the case, helping us get away into the high school April went to.

"So?" Dean asked expectantly as I closed the door.

"I think she's telling the truth. I mean, the way she talked about being there mentally but not physically." I shrugged. "Kind of sounds like demonic possession to me."

"Kind of?"

"She didn't see any black smoke or smell sulfur."

"Maybe it's not a demon. I mean, kids can be vicious."

"Well, I mean, we're already here. Might as well check out the school."

It took a moment before Dean responded, looking out the front window, an unamused smile on his face. "Right. The school."

"What?"

"Truman High, home of the Bombers," he said, a little too enthusiastically, giving me the impression he wasn't interested.

"What's your point?"

"I mean, we went there, like... for a month a million years ago. Why are you so jazzed to go back? "

"I'm not. I just think it's worth looking into." I lied, but there was no need to tell him that.

Sighing, Dean shook his head, not bothering to question me anymore. "All right, well, what's our cover? FBI? Homeland Security? Swedish exchange students?"

"Don't worry. Lizzie's on it."

EPOV

Sam had left me with the task of getting us in the school, and I just couldn't help myself. I'd made it so that during the case, Dean would be the substitute gym teacher, and Sam would be a janitor, while I was stepping in as the history teacher.

Walking into my first classroom, I was well aware of the eyes on me. As a substitute teacher, I knew I would get some attention... my age and outfit was just the cherry on top.

I was wearing a pair of black leather high heeled ankle boots, thigh-high black socks that then left about an inch of bare skin, a red and black plaid skirt, and a tight black long-sleeved shirt, with my hair braided over my shoulder. It was safe to say I wasn’t like other substitute teachers.

Moving to the blackboard, I grabbed a piece of chalk and proceeded to write my name. "I'm Miss Hart, I'll be your substitute for a day or so." Placing the chalk down, I turned to the class. "Unfortunately, your teacher wants you reading from your textbooks... but who finds that absolutely boring?"

The students all looked at each other, confused and suspicious. But slowly, one by one, hands began to rise.

"That's what I thought." I nodded, scanning the room. "Who here likes history?" Most of the teens put their hands down. "Not surprised really." I took a step closer to the front row, a small smile growing on my lips. "Who wants to learn about the Salem Witch trials?”

All hands shot up.

SPOV

Walking down the hall, dressed in my janitor uniform, I found myself thinking about the past, and how my time had at this school had been. It was one of the only places where I hadn't hated every second of my life. I'd even made a friend here.

The sound of the bell ringing caught my attention right as I walked past my old English room. Looking in the room as I passed, I spotted my old teacher, Mr Wyatt. Still moving, I couldn't help but feel a little surprised that he was still here after all these years, but at the same time, I began to wonder if maybe I'd have some time to go talk to him before, Dean, Lizzie and I left.

DPOV

I paced in front of the lined-up students, dressed in my-unfortunate- uniform. A white shirt and tight red shorts, with a red headband on my head, and a whistle around my neck.

Bring the whistle to my lips, I blew into it. "Today, you will have the honour of playing one of the greatest games ever invented. A game of skill, agility, cunning. A game with one simple rule," bending down, I grabbed one of the balls on the ground, "dodge."

As I threw the ball at one of the students, he failed to dodge, letting out a pained groan.

"Sorry," I apologised as I walked the line again.

"Uh, Substitute Coach Roth..." One of the students lifted their hand, getting my attention.

I walked over to him. "Yes?"

"Ms Boudreaux never let us play dodge ball," he informed me, but I didn't care.

"Well, Ms B's in Massachusetts getting married, so we're playing."

"She says it's dangerous."

I blew the whistle, loud, and close to his face. "Take a lap!"

"But-"

Before he could finish, I blew the whistle again, cutting him off. Without another word, he hurried off.

The gym door opened before Sam walked in and gave me a nod.

I grabbed the bag of balls, throwing them in the air to release the balls. "Go nuts," I told the students as I headed over to Sam.

"Having fun?" he asked as I reached him.

I couldn't help but grin. "The whistle makes me their god."

"Right. Nice shorts."

Shifting uncomfortable, I got to the point. "Find anything?"

"I've been over the entire school twice. No sulfur. "

"No sulfur, no demon. No demon, no case." I shrugged.

"I don't know. Maybe I was wrong."

"Well, it happens to the best of us. I say we hit the road, huh? But after lunch. It’s sloppy-joe day. You should let Liz know."

"Speaking of Lizzie... have you seen her?"

I frowned. "No, why? Have you?"

Sam simply shrugged. "Nope."

It had been just under a week since Vegas. Just under a week since Liz had confessed to the fact that she hadn't heard from her boyfriend in over a month. Just under a week since she'd lost her pills.

Most days were okay, but it was becoming clear that something wasn’t right. Maybe it was the fact she had no more pills, or maybe it was the fact she missed her boyfriend, either way, I could tell she was trying harder and harder to keep the smile on her face. It wasn't coming as natural as it used to.

She never stopped moving, hardly slept. Some days I worried she'd work herself into the ground. But no matter what Sam or I said, she just wouldn't stop. It was like she was determined to keep herself distracted.

"Oh!"

Sam and I looked over at the students, seeing the one I told to do laps, running past us, hand to his nose.

"Good hustle, Colby!" I called after him as he rushed for the door. "Walk it off!"

EPOV

I'd spent the morning talking about the supernatural to the two classes I'd had so far. About the history of folklore and myths in America, and how we're influenced by these stories in day to day life. It was easy for me to talk about this stuff, because it was my life.

Halfway through my third class of the day, just about to get into the history of the Salem witch trials, when the sound of someone screaming down the hall, got everyone's attention.

"Stay in your seats," I told my students- knowing they wouldn't- as I hurried out of the classroom, running in my heels, heading to the culinary room.

The culinary teacher was rushing students out, his hand a bloody mess as the rest of her class ran screaming into the halls as well. Pushing through the crowd, I made my way into the room where a student- with blood on his face- was lying on the ground, Sam crouched over him.

The kid looked up at Sam confused. "What happened?"

But before either Sam or I could answer- not that I had an answer- we both noticed a black liquid ooze from the kid’s ear. I knew what it was in an instant. Ectoplasm.

DPOV

I walked into a hall where I found Sam scanning some halls with an EMF reader. As I stepped up to him, he turned away from the lockers to walk down the hall with me.

"How's the nonviolence assembly going?" he asked as I came over to him.

"Apparently, shoving a kid's arm into a Cuisinart is not a 'healthy display of anger'."

I hadn't been there when the incident happened, but right before the assembly had started, Sam had found me and told me what he saw. He told me Liz had been there too, but she had a class to take care of, so I hadn't had the chance to talk to her about it yet. In fact, I hadn't seen her all day, until the assembly.

While sitting with the rest of the teachers, I'd been minding my business when I'd spotted a foot tapping on the ground while the principal had been talking. At first, I hadn't cared, but the longer the tapping went, the more distracting it became. That's when I looked at who the foot belonged to.

Liz.

She was sitting at the other end of the row of teachers, one leg crossed over the other. My eyes hadn't been able to look away. Seeing the space between her thigh-high stockings and skirt, the peep of creamy skin... God, it was agonising.

As much as I knew she would want to be here to talk with Sam and me while the rest of the school was busy, she'd be busy until the end of the day, if her timetable- which I'd stolen when I'd broken into the principal's office- was correct. So, until then, she'd have to stay in the dark about the case.

"So, the kid had ectoplasm leaking out his ear?" I asked, getting back to business.

Sam nodded. "Which only comes from a seriously pissed-off spirit. It's got to be ghost possession."

"Yeah, but that's pretty rare."

"Yeah, but it happens," he noted. "I mean, they get angry enough, they can take control of a person's body."

"All right, so, what, we got a ghost in the building?"

"Yeah, but where? I mean, there's no EMF. Maybe we could find out who it is, at least. You know, check and see if somebody died bloody around here or something."

"Way ahead of you." Coming to a stop, I pulled a piece of paper out of my pocket. "I had to break into the principal's office to get this." Unfolding the paper, I read what I'd found. "So, there was only one death on campus. It was a suicide back in '98. Some kid named Barry Cook." Sam snatched the paper from me. "What?"

He sighed, looking down at the paper. "I knew him. How did he die?"

"He slit his wrists in the first-floor girls' bathroom."

"That's where-"

I nodded, cutting him off. "Right where the chick got swirleyed to death, exactly. So, what? This ghost is possessing nerds?"

"And using them to go after bullies, yeah."

"Well, does that sound like Barry’s M.O.?"

"Barry had a hard time."

EPOV

The siren went off and as if they were all programmed to do so, the students in my class started to pack their things so they could leave. I didn't even try to stop them as I moved to lean on my desk. Crossing one leg over the other, I grabbed the textbook the teacher had assigned and started flicking through it.

A knock on the door caught my attention. Looking up from the book, I turned to the door. It took a moment as the students continued to leave before I spotted my visitor.

Dean.

I held back a laugh at the sight of him in the tight red gym shorts he was wearing. "Nice look, Winchester."

"Could say the same thing to you." He grinned, walking into his room, hand behind his back.

I nodded to his hidden hand. "What you got?"

Shrugging, he brought his hand around to show me. Sitting there, in his grasp, was a bright, juicy, red apple.

This time I couldn't hold back my laugh as I reached for the fruit. "You got me an apple? I never pegged Dean Winchester as a teacher's pet."

"Well if all my teachers looked like you, I would have been the best teacher's pet ever." He kept grinning at me, taking another step closer.

“I bet you were a bad boy. All mischief and mayhem.” I smirked up at him. “The kind of guy I would have crushed on from afar.”

"Is that so?" He stepped even closer then, leaving barely a foot between us.

I looked up, into his eyes, seeing the familiar stirring of a dark and lustful storm forming. It made my knees go weak and my heart skip a beat. The memories of us, of what we’d shared before…

Clearing my throat, I jumped off the desk and turned to gather my things. "Yep," I answered simply as I moved around him and towards the door. "Now, don't we have somewhere to be?"

SPOV

After the school day had ended, Lizzie, Dean and I had gone back to our hotel and changed into our normal clothes. Dean and I had explained the situation to Lizzie and told her everything we'd found. Then we headed off to the graveyard to dig up Barry's bones and burn them.

Now back in the Impala, headed back to the hotel, I couldn't stop feeling so guilty about what we'd just done.

"You all right?" Dean asked.

Without looking at him, I answered, "Barry was my friend. I just burned his bones."

"Well, he's at peace now, Sam."

"I mean, if dad had let us stay just a little while longer, maybe I could have helped the kid, you know?"

But Dean just shook his head. "You read the coroner's report same as me. Barry was on every anxiety drug and antidepressant known to man. School was hell for that kid. His parents had split up. He just wanted out. It was tragic, but it's not your fault. To tell you the truth, I'm glad we got out of that town. I hated that school."

"It wasn't all bad," I argued.

"How can you say that after what happened to you?"

"What happened?" Lizzie asked from the back seat.

"He got bullied. Beat up." Dean's jaw tensed at the memory as he looked out the front window. "The place sucked for both of us."

I always knew Dean had hated the place, which is why I'd never told him the truth when it came to my experience there. Sure, I got into two fights, and sure, I lost one. But that was on purpose. After that, I took care of the bully. Things just fell into place then, and I can honestly say, it was probably the best school I'd been to.

EPOV

Dean parked Baby outside the school, sighing as he looked up at the building. "We came back here so you could talk to a teacher?"

Sam sighed. "He's a good guy."

"Well, whatever." Dean shrugged. "Go have your Robin Williams 'O captain! My captain!' moment. Just make it quick."

Leaving the car, Sam closed the door behind him as he shoved his hands into his pockets and started for the school entrance. Once he was gone, I climbed over into the front seat.

"So, tell me, how come this place was so shitty for you?"

Dean avoided looking at me, shrugging. "It just was."

"No, come on. Tell me," I pressed, a smile tugging on my lips. "I won't judge. I swear. And I won't laugh. Cross my heart."

Arm resting on his door as he looked out his window, it took a second before he sighed and gave in. "There was a girl here."

My smile fell. "Oh..."

Turning to look at me, he shook his head. "It's not what you think. Well... it is what you think, but it didn't end well. She just-" He sighed. "She tried getting too close, and I pushed her away, and then she embarrassed me in front of the school."

When he fell silent, I frowned. "That's all you're giving me? Aren't you gonna tell me how she embarrassed you? Details, Dean." Still, no answer, so I decided to guess. "Did she tell the school you have a small penis?"

He rolled his eyes. "I didn't sleep with her, Liz."

"Still, she could have pretended she did and lied."

This got his attention, getting him to turn to me. "Lie? So, are you saying it's big?"

Shrugging, I leaned back against Sam's door. "It's not small."

Now that the conversation had taken a sharp turn down a road we both tried to avoid when together, I couldn't help but watch him a little closer. He grinned, jaw clenching ever so slightly. Shifting in his spot a little, he rested a hand on his thigh. I could tell he wanted to reach out, he was itching to touch me. Surprisingly, I wanted him to.

Tristan was gone. Until I heard from him and got a reason for his absence, I was done with waiting. For all I knew, this could be his way of dumping me, and the best way to get over being dumped is to move on.

Dean and I, we had a past. That was clear. What was also clear was the fact that we still liked each other. When with Tristan, I tried to ignore it, out of respect for my partner. But now? If I was a free woman, then my feelings and thoughts would be free as well, and right now, I was feeling a lot when it came to Dean.

But before either of us could say or do anything that might lead to more, the doors of the high school opening caught our attention as Sam rushed down the stairs and towards us.

SPOV

I walked down the deserted hallway of the high school. It was the middle of class time, so everyone was tucked away in the classrooms. But I'd checked yesterday, to find out when the room I wanted to go to would be free, which was now.

As I reached the door though, I was stopped by a voice.

"Excuse me, sir, can you tell me find room three-oh-five?"

I turned to the girl standing a couple steps away from me. "Sure. Um," I gestured down the hallway, "head down the hall, take your first right, and it’s the third door on the left."

She smiled up at me. "Thanks, Sam."

I knew, in an instant, that something was wrong. But before I could do anything, the girl pulled out a knife and lunged at me, stabbing me in the stomach.

"You got tall, Winchester," she sneered at me.

As I was hunched over, grasping at my stomach, she kicked me in the face.

I fell to the ground, turning away from her and pulling out a small metal bottle I had in my jacket. Pouring some salt out of the bottle, I waited, listening as she stepped up to me. Once she was close enough, I moved.

Turning, I grabbed her arm that had been reaching out for me and then forced the hand full of salt into her mouth.

The ghost was ripped from her body and pushed through the roof, going back from where ever it came from as the girl collapsed in my arms.

EPOV

I knelt down next to Sam as he sat on a bench. We were parked off the road and by a river, out of sight so no one could see as I patched Sam's stab wound up. Yes, stab wound. While Dean and I had been flirting, Sam had been attacked by a girl being possessed by the ghost.

Dean came over, offering Sam a bottle of some kind of alcohol. "Trust me. This will help."

Reaching for the bottle, I took it from Sam and poured some of the liquid onto a rag before pressing it to the wound. Sam flinched and pulled away, hissing out in pain.

Dean shook his head, watching me as I got back to work. "That ghost is dead. I'm gonna rip its lungs out!" When Sam and I looked up at him wondering if he knew what he'd just said, he rolled his eyes. "Well, you know what I mean."

Sighing, Sam shook his head. "It knew my name, Dean. My real name. We burned Barry’s bones. What the hell?"

"Maybe it wasn't him." I shrugged, finishing up with Sam's wound. "Or maybe we missed something? Maybe-"

"No way." Dean pulled Sam's and my attention to him. We both looked over to see him leaning against Baby, reading a file. "How did we not see this before?"

"What?" Sam and I asked at the same time.

"Check it out." Pushing off Baby, Dean came over to stand by us, turning the file to show us what he found. "Look, Martha Dumptruck, Revenge of the Nerds, and Hello Kitty, they rode the same bus."

"Okay, so maybe the bus is haunted," Sam suggested.

Dean moved back to lean against Baby again. "Well, that would explain why there's no EMF at the school, but not the attacks. I mean, ghosts are tied to the places that they haunt. They can't just bail."

"Unless this one can." Dean and I turned to Sam expectantly, hoping he'd elaborate. "There's lore about spirits possessing people and riding them for miles, then whenever they leave the body, they're bungeed back to their usual haunt. But until then, the ghosts can go wherever they want."

"What, so this ghost just jumps into a kid who jumps onto the bus, and catches a ride into the school?" I thought about it for a moment, slowly nodding. "Doesn't seem too impossible."

Dean groaned. "Ghosts getting creative… well, that's super."

SPOV

On the bus, in the middle of the day, while the students and teachers were in class, Dean, Lizzie and I scanned it for any signs of a ghost. The EMF meter I was using was showing giving off a high reading, letting us know there definitely was some kind of ghost action going on.

"Here, ghosty, ghosty, ghosty," Dean called out to the ghost. "Come out, come out, wherever you are."

I shook my head, not understanding the whole situation. "Man, I don't get it. No one ever died on this bus, and it's not like there's a body hidden in here."

"Yeah, but a flap of skin, a hair, I mean, hell, a hangnail. Something’s got to be tying the ghost to this place." Dean wasn't wrong. "We just got to find it."

Lizzie sat behind the driver's seat, going through the papers and books she found in the compartment. "I found a new driving permit." She lifted the piece of paper up to show us.

Dean and I came over to take a look.

"Issued a couple of weeks ago," Dean read.

"Just before the first attack," I noted.

Dean grabbed the permit from Lizzie. "Name of the bus driver is Dirk McGregor Sr, 39 North Central Avenue."

"McGregor?" I frowned, recognising the name.

"Yeah." Dean nodded, looking away from the papers and to me. "Why?"

"I knew his son."

He scoffed lightly. "Did you know everybody at this school?"

I didn't just know McGregor... he was the kid who I got into the two fights with. He was the kid who'd been bullying Barry. He was the kid I beat up in front of the school so he'd stop being a jerk.

...

Dean, Lizzie and I sat on the three-seater couch in the McGregor home, across from Mr McGregor. He'd been surprised when I told him I'd been friends with his son, which had been a lie, but we needed a way to get inside and talk to him.

"So, you were friends with Dirk?" he asked us.

"Uh, yes, sir." I gave a short nod. "In high school."

"I don't recall Dirk having many friends at Truman."

Changing the subject, Dean turned the conversation toward Dirk's passing. "When did, uh… when did Dirk pass?"

"He was eighteen."

"What happened to him?" I asked.

"Well, there was, first, drinking, then drugs, and then too many drugs. And then he just slipped through my fingers. It was my fault. I should have seen it coming, you know? Dirk, he, uh… he had his troubles."

"Troubles?" Lizzie questioned.

"School was never easy for Dirk," Mr McGregor explained. "We didn't have much money, and, well, you know, kids, they can be cruel. They picked on him."

That's not how I remembered it... "They picked on him?"

Mr McGregor nodded. "They called him poor and dirty and stupid. They even had a nickname for him- Dirk the jerk." Oh..."And after what happened to his mother, he-"

I cut him off, "His mother?"

"Yeah, Jane, my wife. She died when Dirk was thirteen. Cancer. I was working three jobs, so it fell to Dirk to take care of her. And he was a great kid. He made sure Jane got her medicine. He helped her, cleaned up after her. But, you know, you- you watch somebody die slow, waste away to nothing... it does things to a person." Mr McGregor looked down at the ground. "Horrible things."

"I didn't know about his mother," I admitted.

"He- he wouldn't talk about her, not even to me. Lot of anger in that boy."

"I'm sorry."

"Well, we'd really like to pay our respects, Mr McGregor," Dean started. "Um, you mind telling us where Dirk is buried?"

"Oh, he wasn't. I had him cremated."

"All of him?" Dean asked, earning looks from the rest of us. Lizzie and I hoped we hadn't freaked Mr McGregor out, while Mr McGregor looked a little confused.

"Well, I kept a lock of his hair."

"Oh, that's- that's nice." Dean gave a little smile. "Where do you keep that?"

Frowning, confused and a little offended, Mr McGregor answered, "On my bus, in my Bible."

EPOV

I stood on the side of the road, hidden by the bushes as Dean, Sam and I watched and waited. We knew the bus would be coming down this way any minute. We knew Dirk would be on there. We knew the hair would be too.

Sure enough, the bus came flying down the road, way too fast. But that was stopped the moment the tires ran over the spike strip we'd laid out, tearing the tires to shreds.

We waited a moment longer as the doors opened and the driver stepped out, his almost robotic-like movements giving Dirk away.

"Dirk!" Sam called as he stepped out of the bushes, shotgun raised to the driver.

"Winchester. What are you gonna do, shoot me?"

"Don't need to."

As Dean and I stepped out of the bushes- on the other side of the road, Dean quickly wrapped the rope he was holding, around Dirk's torso, while I used my mind to hold it in place securely. Tying it tightly without having to touch it.

Sam nodded to the rope. "That rope is soaked in saltwater, Dirk. You're not going anywhere."

As I kept a hold on the rope, Dean moved to go on the bus to try and find the hair. "All right, everybody stay where you are. You'll be okay."

"Aren't you the P.E. Teacher?" someone asked from inside the bus.

"Not really. I'm like 21 Jump Street," Dean answered, and I couldn't help but roll my eyes. "The bus driver sells pot." There was a pause before he yelled out to us. "It's not here!"

Sam cocked his gun, still aiming it at Dirk. "Where is it?"

"No way you'll ever find it."

I squeezed my hand, making the rope tighten around Dirk. "Where. Is. It."

When Dirk simply let out a pained groan, but no answer, Sam stepped forward, pressed the gun to Dirk's chest. "Where is it?!"

Dirk just glared at him. "Sam Winchester. Still a bully. You- you jocks. You popular kids. You always thought you were better than everybody else. And to you, I was just Dirk the jerk, right? Now you evil sons of bitches are gonna get what's coming to you."

"I'm not evil, Dirk." Sam took a step back. "I'm not. And neither were you. Trust me. I've seen real evil. We were scared and miserable, and we took it out on each other. Us and everybody else. That's high school. But you suffer through that, and it gets better. I'm just sorry you didn't get a chance to see that. You or Barry."

"Nothing is gonna get better for me. Not ever." Dirk suddenly broke the ropes, flung his elbow back into my face- knocking me to the ground- before he started for Sam as Dean hurried out of the bus.

Sam fired the gun at him- though the driver was fine, it was just rock salt, not bullets. The driver fell back and onto the ground next to me, unmoving.

"Liz." Dean moved to offer me a hand, helping me to my feet. "You okay?"

"No." I groaned as I got up with help from Dean. "My face and ass hurt." the three of us looked down at the driver. "You think the son of a bitch is still in-"

Before I could finish, Sam was knocked to the ground by someone. Dean and I looked over to see a student kneeling over Sam, turning him over to punch him in the face. Dean grabbed Sam's gun- which had been knocked out of his grasp- and shot at the student, slash Dirk. But nothing happened.

"Find the hair!" Sam groaned, trying to fight Dirk off.

Moving quickly, Dean went back into the bus to look for the hair, while I hurried over to the bus driver, going off on a hunch as I started searching his pockets and everything. As I took the driver's boot off, the lock of hair fell onto the ground.

Grabbing it, I stood and lifted it above my other hand. "Hey, Dirk the Jerk!"

Dirk paused his beatings and turned to me, his eyes landing on the hair and going wide.

Suddenly a ball of flames grew from the palm of my hand, and with that, I dropped the lock of hair to my other hand, watching the fire in my hand burn it away. Dirk screamed and flew out of the student, the ghost burning in the air.

The student fell forward, landing right on top of Sam.

"Little help?" Sam called.

Dean- who had come out of the bus when Dirk had screamed- looked to his brother. "Huh... he's giving you the full cowgirl."

A wave of dizziness took over me before I could react to Dean’s little joke. Stumbling a little, I reached for the bus, holding onto it to keep my steady and my energy depleted.

“Hey.” Dean hurried over, concerned. “You okay? Liz? What’s wrong?”

Feeling light-headed, weak, dizzy and short of breath, I shook my head gently. “I don’t know.” My grip on the bus slipped, causing me to start falling.

“Whoa!” Dean was right there, catching and pulling me up into his arms. “I gotta ya. I gotta ya,” he assured me.

...

Once again, we were back at the school, Dean and I waiting for Sam to come back from talking to the teacher he'd wanted to talk to his old teacher.

We’d spent the night at the hotel, packing up and getting ready to move on. Well, the brothers had packed. They hadn’t let me do anything. In fact, they wouldn’t even let me stay in my own room. Even after I started feeling better, they were still worried I might collapse again.

But, like I said, I was better now.

Sitting in the back of Baby now, I leaned over the front seat and looked in the rear-view mirror to try and see what damage Dirk had done to my nose. It's not like he broke it or anything, but there was a little bruising, and it hurt like a bitch.

Dean sighed, shaking his head at me. "Liz, it's fine."

"It hurts." I pouted, looking at him. "And it's all purple and gross."

"It's not gross," he chuckled lightly. "You could never be gross."

"Really?" I raised an eyebrow. "Even if I was covered in, I don't know... rotting guts?"

He shook his head again. "Not gross."

It was my turn to laugh. "The fact you think that, makes you gross."

"Then maybe we can be gross together." His grin grew a little as he shifted closer slightly.

Biting my lip, I shrugged. "Doesn't sound like a completely horrible idea."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

I'm not exactly sure how it happened, but slowly and surely, we'd moved closer and closer to each other until there were just a couple of inches between us. I guess you could blame it on the uncontrollable pull between us. But now, as I looked from his lips to his eyes, seeing him do the same to mine, I could feel the unasked question hanging in the air.

Are we gonna do this?

Tristan and I hadn't spoken in over a month. We hadn't broken up, but it felt like we weren't together anymore. My gut was telling me to move on, and who better to move on with than Dean Winchester? The chemistry between us had been there from the moment we met, and it never seemed to burn out. I liked him. He liked me. So, why not?

Making my mind up- and acting before I could think myself out of it- I quickly pushed forward, pressing my lips to Dean's. It was just a kiss. Just a simple coming together of lips. But soon enough, it grew into more. It always did.

Dean's hand came up to cup my cheek gently as he deepened the kiss, pushing into it more. My own hand came up to grasp his shoulder as I moaned. It had been so long since we'd been like this, I'd almost forgotten what it was like. Almost forgotten what he tasted like. Smelt like.

It was as intoxicating as it had been the first time. He was surprisingly soft and smooth. He smelt like mint and leather, and that smell I could only describe as Dean. He tasted like the toothpaste he'd used the morning, and once again, just Dean. It was all Dean.

Suddenly, he grabbed me and pulled me over the seat and onto his lap so I was straddling him, our chests pressed together. His hands grasped my thighs, my hands gripped his hair. The kiss deepened into more as our bodies began to move instinctively, grinding against each other.

I could feel him, and it just added wood to the burning fire inside me. I wanted him. I wanted him bad. To feel him like I had many times before. He always felt so good. Always knew how to take care of me.

"Dean." His name fell from my lips in a moan.

He groaned. "If you say my name like that again-"

Pulling away, I bit my lip as I bucked against him, our eyes meeting. "Dean," I repeated, moaning harder this time.

Before I knew what was happening, Dean had put me on the seat beside him as he opened his door and slid out. Grabbing my hand, he helped me out as well before he closed the door and hurried for the school.

"Where are we going?"

He didn't answer as he took me down the halls, looking around carefully while in a hurry, his hand still firmly holding mine. When he came to a stop and reached for the door, he opened it and pulled us inside, flicking the light on as he did. It was a janitor's closet.

I laughed lightly, looking around. "Why do I get the feeling you've been in here before?"

"Don't worry. She meant nothing to me," he assured me as he moved closer to me again, pressing his lips to mine in a deepened kiss, hinting at what was to come.

SPOV

I walked up to the door of my old English room, seeing Mr Wyatt sitting at his desk, grading papers. Lifting my hand, I knocked on the door before stepping in.

"Uh, Mr Wyatt?"

Looking up from the paper he'd been working on, he turned to me. "Yes."

Walking closer to his desk, I gave a small smile. "You probably don't remember me, um… but my name is Sam Winchester, and I just wanted to thank you."

"For?"

"I was a student here, and uh," I shrugged, "you gave me some advice once."

"Winchester, right." He smiled, nodding as he got up. "Right. Yeah. You, uh… you wrote that horror story," he noted, reaching out to shake my hand.

"Yeah. Yeah, I did. Yeah, it's kind of all been one long horror story."

"What do you mean?"

"Nothing." I shook my head. "Sorry."

"So, what was this advice? I might need to plagiarise myself down the line," he chuckled lightly.

"You told me that I didn't have to go into the family business. You said I should make my own choices."

"So, you've managed to do your own thing, then, huh?"

"Yeah, for a while, yeah. And I think I went to college because of you. But, you know, people grow up. Responsibilities, and..." I shrugged. "But still, um... you took an interest in me when no one else did. That matters, so thank you."

"Well, you know, the only thing that really matters is that you're happy. Are you happy, Sam?"

I didn't know how to respond to that, because honestly... I wasn't too sure.

Bamby

[darkdevasofdestruction]

Don’t Let Go ~ Alfie Solomons

I’m in love with one man and one man alone. Mum and dad love Alfie too, but they still can’t take him away from me ;;;

How did she end up like this, she wondered? They were family...Even though her last name was not legally “Shelby”, she was still a part of the family since she was born. The parents were best friends, and when her parents died, Polly took her in. And then, they grew up together - Same home, same beds, same food, same clothes...Same everything.

And then, war came, and while true, she was younger than even John - Not by much, only about 3 years - But that didn’t seem to bother either of the Shelby siblings, and she was especially close with Arthur and Ada, mostly because they were the ones with the warmest hearts, and could understand her gentle one as well..

However, Tommy was the smartest of the family, and Polly taught her enough about Gypsy street-smarts, so the three of them together somehow became the true heads of the family, the true backbone that kept everyone straight and together.

When war came, she was barely 16, and yet, she joined them, dressing as a man and pretending to be a volunteer physician, healing and running around the battlefield, only to end up helping them dig up tunnels and plant explosions...

And taking a bullet for Tommy.

And nearly dying.

But at least, by the time they returned home, 4 years later, she was called an honorary Shelby and Polly officially adopted her.

She wasn’t Y/N L/N anymore, she was Y/N Shelby, and she was damn proud of that.

She helped with fixing races, rode around with her gorgeous black mare, going to the Garrison with her brothers to make sure they don’t end up drunk, in a ditch, she helped the strategy against the Lee family, got beaten up by Sabini, beat him up right back, got in that whorehouse of a Russian noble family, let the Duchess touch her while in her underwear, got beaten up by the priest, had to blow up a train with good people and many more...

But nothing was bringing her down, because she was a Shelby, and she was strong - Mentally, Physically, Emotionally - And she wanted to make sure the family was together, or at least trying to hang on, somehow.

She was the perfect woman - Never drank, never smoked, never cursed, never did drugs, never did drugs, never dated anyone... 

But when one day, Thomas took her on a meeting at Alfie’s place... Boy of boy, was that entertaining.

She always appreciated Thomas’s ambition, cunning and intelligence...But Alfie?  Alfie was something else. Something much above him, no much smarter, so much better at scheming...And at everything, really. And she was attracted by him like moths to the light.

Back and forth talks, interesting insights on life, learning words in foreign languages that she didn’t know, but he did, and likewise, teaching her foreign stuff, talking to him about books and many other things...

And it was weird, but it almost seemed like she didn’t want to leave that place any time soon, but Thomas needed her for business, so what could she do, really?

And she agreed...And agreed...And agreed...

Until one day, when all things went completely upside down and...Sure, she did her job, and she was supposed to return to Alfie’s to have a chat with him and Tommy... And she did...

As soon as she stepped inside the “Bakery”, she saw Ollie, whose eyes widened in shock seeing her in that state.

“Miss Shelby, what happened?! Let me call the physician-...I’ll go inform Alfie-...” Ollie stumbled over his words, only to have her grab his sleeve and pull him back. “Don’t tell them I’m here. With the way I look, better make it a surprise. Tommy’s here, right?” she asked, slamming the doors open, walking inside, the clicks of her small heeled boots resounding all over the place. “B-But Miss Shelby, we have to treat you - “ Y/N simply shot him a glare, before continuing in a straight line.  “Ain’t a Shelby anymore.” she muttered, and soon, she reached the middle of the wide business room, as Alfie was sitting at his desk and Tommy was pacing.  “Y/N...Finally, you’ve arrived. What happened to you?!” Thomas asked, rushing to her side, only for her to push him away. “You lied to me, Thomas. You lied to me. You promised I wouldn’t get hurt. That you were gonna make sure they wouldn’t touch me. That I was gonna come back perfectly unharmed, not even a strand of hair touched. Only business talks. How do you think that went?” the girl looked down, her hands deep in her bloodied, yet incredibly fancy and silhouette-fitting high-waisted pants.  “What exactly happened with the Sabini meeting, Y/N? And why are you covered in blood?!” he asked, frowning. “It’s fine, not ALL of it is MY blood, thanks for worrying, THOMAS!” but as she rasped out his name, she started coughing up some blood, and as her side started burning in pain, she lifted her already disheveled shirt, applying pressure with her hand where she got shot to keep herself from bleeding out. “Well...This one is.” she used her sleeve to wipe her face, completely non-chalant. “Y/N...Tell me what happened...Please...” Thomas’s voice went lower, almost as a soothing whisper, but it was quickly obliterated by Y/N’s exaggerated, yet pained laugh. “I got beaten up, raped and shot by Sabini and his men. That’s what happened, Thomas. No business talk, just abuse. You promised nothing will happen to me...But, oh, damn, remember that you told Lizzie the same too, and she, that fucker raped her at the Derby too, when you were too busy fucking around with two other women? Oh, wait...Is it because I’m a woman? Because, the way I see it, all women that you have in your life get abused somehow...By you. Grace died because of you. Ada left the city because of you. May got hurt because of you. Esme hates you...There’s also the Duchess, but she very much outsmarted you, so she’s safe and...Still a noble woman. And don’t even get me started on Polly...Poor woman...Having to endure living in the same world as you. For the amount of time you spend fucking women, one would think you’d be more considerate of them.” her beautiful eyes were sharp and hateful, throwing daggers at the man in front of her as she continued to pace around, her tongue speaking the poison that very much tainted her heart over the past many years of her life. “...Y/N. I know you’re in pain, and that I’ve hurt you. I know. You are right, I agree. I’m aware. But it wasn’t my fault. I couldn’t have known, and-” as he continued, the girl calmly approached him, and as soon as she was right in front of him, she back-slapped him, thanking her classy mind for wearing lots of rings that day. As she laughed at the way the wounds showed up on one side of his face, she followed by slapping him on the other side, much harder than before. “Shut the fuck up, Thomas Shelby. Don’t speak to me. Don’t get close to me. I am not a Shelby anymore, so you can fuck off...Do you see who you’re doing business with, Alfie? A guy who can’t even protect his family! He got all of us arrested and almost hanged, made Ada go away, made Polly go insane, had Arthur beaten up, me as well, and guess what, Michael got shot and JOHN GOT KILLED! BECAUSE OF YOU, THOMAS! Grace died because of YOU! And your child got kidnapped and almost died BECAUSE! OF! YOU!” with each sentence, she punched him, hit him, kicked him, smashed him head with her knee, then on the wall, then ended by stomping her boot on his stomach...And walked away, as calmly as if never happened. “And...This is not my blood.”  “Well, lass, gotta say, yeah, you ain’t as much of an angel as I thought, eh. Or, maybe now more than ever, you’re the angel I thought you were.” Alfie watched from behind the desk, completely relaxed, analysing the show in front of him, and yet, his brain was running a thousand miles per second, thinking of millions of things. “D’you have a free spot here, Alfie? No guns and death and all that. Maybe...Someone to patch up your boys. I don’t know. Hell, I’ll even accept being your secretary or...Flower girl. Cook. Tea girl. I can walk Cyril...I don’t know, anything you want, just get me the hell out of this Shelby hell.” she turned around to look at him, using her other sleeve to clean her face, using the water from her tears. “Heard that, Thomas Shelby? Your sister’s deserted you, and for a good reason, eh. You can leave now, there’s other times to do business, right.” Alfie spoke, getting up and stepping towards her. “This isn’t over, Y/N. We’ll talk again. You’re a valuable part of the family, and you’re coming back, sooner than later.” Thomas went get get out of the building, only for the girl to quickly take out the gun from her jacket and cock it, pointing it at the man. “Fuck off and go to hell, Thomas.” she pulled the trigger... “Stop it, lass, don’t do it! You’re gonna regret it!” Alfie sprung out, holding one of his arms around her body, while his other hand went to her gun, making her shoot a wall instead of a living being, letting the man get out of there, still alive, somehow. “Damn it, Alfie! Why’d you do that! It’s 2 for 0, damn it! I’m fed up with taking bullets to save that guy, while all he does is sit comfortably behind his desk, damn it! I’m not a fucking rag doll that can be tossed in the trash!” she cried, trying to struggle out of his grasp, but the wounds were hurting her too much, so her strength gave out faster and she stood limp in his arms, trembling softly. “S’okay now, lass, yeah. I’ll bring ya to Cyril and we can...Uh...Drink that tea you like, right. Forget that guy, let’s get ya treated, right. Get that bullet out of ya. And sure, y’can be my physician, I know you were a great one in war, yeah.” the Jew gently took out the gun from her hand, throwing it to the ground for Ollie to take later, an he picked her up with much, bringing her to the medic’s room. “I need vodka, cigarettes, and if I’m brave enough some Tokyo...Snow...Whatever you call it.” she groaned as soon as she was place on the bed, as the gangster frowned in confusion at her. “I thought you didn’t do vices.” he sat on the opposite bed, watching her intently. “Woaw, I lied to you and everyone else in the world. I do drink and I do smoke and I did date before...Just...Not when people were seeing me. People think you’re an angel, they will hopefully leave you the hell alone. Difficult being a woman these days, as you can see. Everybody’s treating you like a piece of garbage. And bring me that vodka, I need to have the room spinning before I take out the bullet...And vodka’s the best disinfectant. The hospital stuff is washed up and diluted a lot of times.” she gave him a sarcastic half-smile, taking the cigarette he just lit up and puffed on it. “Only whiskey and rum, if you want, yeah. You don’t have to pretend to be someone you’re not around here, lass. Just do what you want, nobody’s gonna say a thing, right, and if they do, you know how to use a gun, so shoot their brains, eh, show them all who’s in charge.” he got up, bringing her what she requested, watching attentively as she let her head back, poofing smoke into the air. “Thanks, Alfie. Come back in an hour. I don’t need witnesses of my misery. You know better than everyone, Captain Solomons, that taking out a bullet gets messy.” she pointed the cigarette at him, smirking miserably at him, knowing very well that she wasn’t mentally ready for the procedure. “Well, lass, if you’re very sure, you don’t need help, right, then I’ll be waiting outside.” the Jew patted her head, leaving the room, letting behind only a graveyard silence, that for some reason, creeped the girl out big time. “...Let’s fuck shit up, then...” she muttered to herself, letting the ashes of the cigarette fall pitifully on the bed, as she took a deep breath and violently slammed her hand over the medical tools.

She’s always been a very careful and precise person, and whenever she did this on someone else, she would have people keep the victim down, so she could rummage through their bodies with relative ease, especially after they got shit faced drunk...And maybe with some anaesthesis... But this is the worst. Just like back then, during the war...

Letting a few tears of anticipation fall down her face, she cut a bit deeper into her body, to allow her fingers, previously washed with alcohol, she whimpered and squealed as she searched around for the bullet - It was no easy feat for, but it had to be done, no matter the searing pain -.

It felt like time stopped completely before the extraction of the stupid lead thing, she held it in her hand, watching its taunting gleam glaring back into her eyes, then watched with horror that stupid bottle of whiskey, and with her last strength, she snatched it and putting her pillow over her face to keep the shrieking from leaving the room, and gritting her teeth, she let the alcohol pour out from the bottle, wailing loudly, and yet, hoping nobody would hear her.

She was still sobbing in the pillow, the fire-like pain, electrifying the surging, diffuse pain throughout her whole torso, and she laid there, throwing away that pillow as soon as the door was opened again, and adjusting her head, she noticed Solomons walking in the room, a basket dangling from his arms.

“What’cha got there?” she asked in a weak, whisper-like voice, still trying to recover. “Goodies. Freshly baked cookies. At least something that smells nice in this pigstry, eh.” Alfie’s joking way of speaking seemed to take away her mind, but she smiled apologetically, lifting her hands briefly. “Sorry, too much blood on my hands. Literally and metaphorically speaking.” she explained, only to have Alfie take out one of the cookies and feeding her. “...This...Is the best thing I’ve eaten in my life. Did you make them? Because if you did, you’re like...A Cookie God. Have more?” she asked, managing, with a lot of difficulty, pain and his help, to get in a sitting position. “Well, I’ve never been called a God, right, but it ain’t that bad, yeah. Here you go, one more. I’ll ask a maid to draw a bath for you, yeah, I doubt you wanna stay all bloody the whole day, eh.” he helped her eat another cookie, and weirdly enough, despite all the blood on her face, her small smile was oddly charming. “...Y’know...If you ever want to retire from this gangster bullshit...You could settle down and...Just bake for a living...No, rather, a hobby. I’m sure you have enough money for a life time, so might as well just rest and take it easy. Move away from here...Maybe another country...Or another city, at least...And just...Y’know...Be happy. You could do that...And be rid of stupid Italians and Americans and all these jerks.” Y/N spoke, more or less not directly to him, but in a way, she was projecting her own hopes and dreams. “Margate.” Alfie muttered, sitting down in front of her. “Margate?” she furrowed her brows in confusion, leaning forward a bit. “Aye. By the seaside. The sand is really soft, they say, and the waves are nice, yeah. Very calm town.” he continued, which made her gasp softly in realisation. “You...You DID think about retirement! It means you’re really kinda fed up with this...This mess. I like where this is going.” she smiled softly at him, nodding in agreement. “I think you’re making the right choice, if it makes for anything.” “Y’know, lass, you’re not wrong. We do need a vacation, yeah, and a very long one at that, right. Now, how ‘bout we talk about what you need, right, for this medical thing.  You’re a sensible woman, yeah, so, I trust you more with the details and organising.” he pointed, and thus, they started chatting idly about the medical issues, and even more, about life in general - Books, the pictures, concerts, travelling and things...Leisure things, just simple things that she never had the privilege to talk about, and she had no idea she wanted, nor needed.

Many weeks passed and things were unusually calm for her, and for the first time in her life, she felt...Happy. She enjoyed being around Alfie, working with him without being involved in all the killing, and she absolutely loved baking things together, and he was so charismatic and charming, always giving witty remarks that amused her and made her laugh...

It was the perfect life she always dreamt of having, and he even asked if she wanted to go to a jazz pub with him, and...She got to dress up, and do her make up and do her hair, wear pretty, expensive jewellery, and a damn fine dress to show off her gorgeous silhouette, and high heels to match...And she walked next to him, her arm hooked to his, as they enjoyed the beautiful jazz music and each other’s presence.

It was a blissful dream, and she swore that if anyone dared wake her up, she was gonna kill them, and it won’t be quick, nor painless.

“Y’know, Alfie...You’re the best man I’ve ever met in my life. And that says a lot, considering how many men I had the misfortune of meeting...Including my family.” she raised her champagne glass slightly to clink with his. “Maybe you haven’t met the right men, dear, yeah, y’know, and men in Birmingham are fucking shit anyway. Camden’s better, yeah.” the man chuckled mirthfully, leaning back on his chair. “You...Mentioned Margate once. How are things going on with that?” Y/N asked, smiling at him softly. “Well, lass, y’know, yeah, things are...Things are fine. But, uh...You see...The doctor said I’m sick. They aren’t really sure yet what’s wrong with me, alright, but they said the results should be given pretty soon, yeah.” he admitted after a few seconds of consideration, which made the girl gasp in shock, moving her chair to look at him better taking his hands in hers and leaning forward. “What did they say about it? Did they take blood sampled? Wanna do blood work? Or...Biochemistry tests? Or something more complex?” Y/N bit her lip, looking concerned like never before. “Don’t worry, lass, even if I die, yeah, I’ll still make sure you get paid for your hard work, alright?” the man tried to brush it off, but the indignant look on her face made him chuckle. “I’m gonna kill you if you imply something like that again. I don’t need your money, I just want you to be healthy and alright, got it? Now come on, tell me, what do they suspect. Also, where is your doctor’s clinic, and when will your results arrive.” she pressed on, waiting for an answer. “Come on, don’t be so serious, yeah, enjoy the show, it’s not every night we get to have fun, right?” Alfie, again, tried to play it off as nothing important, but the look on her face made him sigh and nod, giving in. “They think’s cancer, right. I got a tumour, they’re checking if it’s...Uh...Cancer or not. right. Doctor’s around here in Camden, results come out sometime in a week or two, that enough?” he rolled his eyes, and yet, he was grateful for her worrying. “...I guess. If I knew, I would have done the lab work myself, but, you know...If anything, I can do the procedure myself... Or maybe I should hold your hand and make sure you’re not scared. They have to do general anaesthesia, cut you open and all that...It won’t be fun.” she looked down a bit, before smiling encouragingly at him. “Y/N. I’m a big boy now, right, I’ll be fine, no need to worry about me, yeah, you just...You be okay, and relax, and-...And before long, we’ll go to Margate together.”  he continued, trying to calm her down, without realising at first of the commitment, until he noticed the excited gleam in her eyes. “Alfie...? Are you...Are you sure...? Margate is the place you want to go to...Why would you...Me...?” she muttered, almost unsure of how to react. “Let’s go home, eh. I want to make you some nice tea, yeah, and some cookies. I have to tell ya something, and I’d rather it not be out.” 

Alfie squeezed her hands, helping her get up, and the walk home was filled with anticipation and a comfortable silence that wanted to rip out the answers out of his throat.

He let her dress in more comfortable clothes, and so he did, then went down to prepare some nice and warm tea, with the biscuits he baked that day, and went to her room.

“Do you like me, Alfie?” she asked in a shushed voice, not daring to raise her head to look at him. “What’s not to like, lass? You’re smart and witty, and for some reason, you find me funny, and look at ya, you’re gorgeous, right. So if I say, yeah, I want you to come to Margate with me, I mean it. You just have to agree, aye. Get away from this and rest. God knows we need this.” he had a sweet smile on his face - A smile that quickly faltered when he saw stray tears falling down her face, and he started worrying. “Why...In the world...Would someone as amazing as you...Like me? Alfie, you’re...You’re amazing, and me, I’m...I’m the worst. I can’t let go of the past, and I’ve got like...This...This devil inside me...This Shelby devil that keeps whispering in my ear, saying that I’ll never be happy, and that I’ll...I’ll kill again, and I’ll be dragged back to that slum and...And all that happiness will just shatter and...And I don’t deserve you.” she looked down, hoping her long her would hide her face, but next thing she knows, she got brought into a tight embrace, and he stroked her hair, his chin on top of her head, waiting for her to calm down, and yet, he could feel her trembling softly. “Don’t say things like that, yeah, that’s not true. You’re with me, not with them anymore, right, so, then, you’re going back. I won’t let them take you back, if you don’t want to, aye. No need to cry, right, I’ll protect you from anyone who dares try to take you away, eh, even if it’s Tommy Shelby himself, so no need to cry, yeah, Y/N?” he spoke, only to feel her cling even tighter to the back of his shirt. “I...I’ve...I’ve never felt like this before, Alfie. You make me feel so warm...And safe...And happy...I’ve been hold before, but all I felt was repulsion and fright...I was panicked and I wanted to run away...But this...This never happened. And I think I love you, Alfie. Don’t let go of me, please.” her voice was barely audible, but Alfie could feel the raw emotions, so he laid down with her on the bed, holding her dearly. “It will be fine, Y/N, okay. None of these worries will come to you again when in Margate. You and I will be happy, away from here, yeah, so, know that I love you, and let’s wait just a bit more, so we can get rid of this Changretta mess, and we’re leaving, eh.” 

And it was true - From that night on, they slept in the same room, holding each other dearly, reassured that the next day, things will still be as good as the previous night. One morning, however, Alfie woke up without her in his arms, and he panicked, thinking the worst - Poor Ollie thought he was going to get killed - But it was all fine, as she returned with the biggest grin on her face, jumping in Alfie’s arms, not allowing him the chance to say a word, only shocking him. And she held his hands and dragged him to his room, getting him to sit on the bed, and at first, she wanted to make tea, but then she shook her head and brought a bottle of the best whiskey, poured it in the glasses and had him drink.

“Damn it, lassie, don’t fucking scare me like that, yeah, like, at least tell me in advance if you’re gonna leave, okay, I thought those fuckers got ya for good. What the hell was the urgency?” he asked, drinking the glass in one go before looking at her. “I...Well...Haha, sorry ‘bout that, I’m just...I’m sure super happy. So, as you know, today the doctors had to mail you the test results, so, you know, I seem to have been a bit too eager to find out, so I since there were no trains, I walked all the way to your doctor, told him this and that, then got the first train back, and here I am. Oh, and, obviously, I’m super happy ‘cause like, I couldn’t keep myself - Sorry ‘bout that, by the way - So I ripped the envelope and looked at the results. And, uh, yeah, so, I’m happy ‘cause - Look ! - No cancer! You’re completely, 100% cancer free! And, like, the tumor completely benign, no invasiveness, no metastasis, so this is completely curable by surgical removal, and it won’t affect your life span, nor will it, in any way, alter your health. Et, voila, here we are! Go on, drink, cheer, be happy, I know I am!” she laughed gleefully, watching the shocked spark in Alfie’s eyes as he took out his glasses to read over the annoyingly complicated medical stuff, but he was a smart guy, and he understood everything there is to it. “You’re the best, shiksa. You say things are gonna turn out bad, but here, look, they aren’t, and hey won’t right, ‘cause clearly, there’s something up there, alright, that’s looking out for us, and it ain’t only me making sure you’re fine. I’m happy, Y/N, and in less than a month, aye, we’re fucking away from here. Just the two of us...And Ollie as a butler, if ya want. And we can get as many dogs as you want. We can do whatever we want, really.” he hugged her tightly, cupping her face and kissing her tenderly.

It all went sweet and soft at first, and it got hotter and hotter, with much more passion than before, and one thing led to another, and their first night of overflowing love gave hope for a better future, one that will ensure their happiness and that won’t involve them in this stupid gangster war anymore.

Just him, her and Cyril, maybe Ollie too, at the side...What better life to have than this?

But just one week before they had to leave, as they were still preparing for their grand exit, Y/N was walking towards the clinic room to check on the few patients she had left, only to notice the glint of guns, and she did a turn around, looking for Alfie, and yet, Ollie stopped her in her tracks as soon as she saw her, rushing to hide her from the people who were, apparently, having a meeting with Alfie.

“Ollie, it’s an emergency. Life or death, I promise. I NEED to speak to him. Who is he having a meeting with?” she asked, holding her clipboard close to her chest, looking left and right carefully. “With the Sabinis. Now, come on, Y/N, whatever it is, can wait. I’m sure you can wait a bit with Cyril. Please.” Ollie pleaded with her, but she only started writing rapidly on her clipboard, letting the first two pages filled with obvious, typewriter-written pages about standard medical procedures. “I’m sorry, Ollie, but this is bigger than even Sabini. Come with me and NEVER leave Alfie alone with those sharks, got it?” she gave him a sharp look before rushing to the usual place Alfie had business meetings, and as she completely ignored the villains, she slammed the clipboard on his desk, giving him a look. “Very important medical business thing, I need your signature after you read through these.” as he was so much taller than her, she only needed to bend a bit to talk into his ear, carefully flipping the first two pages, only to reveal big, messy writing.

ENEMIES WITH GUNS IN THE MEDICAL WARD POINTED TO THE BOYS DON’T TRUST THEM

Alfie gave her a look, knowing shit went bad, he nodded slightly, getting a pen and, as his signature, he wrote “TELL OLLIE”, and ushered her to leave.  And so she did, and Ollie went to alert the other guys so they could ambush the enemies in the medical ward, all while cursing herself and preparing guns, hidden in her long trench coat, then returned to stay by Alfie’s side, her hands placed on his shoulders reassuringly.

“Mr. Solomons, I see the little song bird likes flying around to every powerful gangster family. Wonder if she’ll go to the Changrettas when she’s done with you.” the Sabini leader smirked at her, and Alfie could feel her nails digging into his flesh, and not even the good way this time. “Listen, listen, Mr. Sabini,eh. You come here, begging me for fucking favours, right, and then, you dare fucking speak ill of my partner, yeah? So, where is the fucking time where you, like, do something to make me want to do that fucking favour of yours, if the only fucking thing you make me want to do is to fucking grant you the favour of putting you out of this miserable fucking life, right?” there was no clearer indicator that Alfie was angry than when he cursed like his beard was on fire, and true, YN found it very weird, considering how sweet and gentle he’s always been with her, but she could feel the protective aura he gave off, and she never felt safer than now. “Aye, aye, Alfie, don’t overreact, please, it was just a merely innocent joke! Lighten up, let’s discuss business. We teamed up with Luca Changretta, we can give you money and exposure. We can sell your rum and weapons all over Europe, especially France and Italy, and that means, in the long run, a ton of money. I’m sure you’ll agree with me, won’t you?” Sabini spoke, and from the corner of her eye, she could see one of the men taking out a gun from the back of his pants. “Mr. Sabini, I will have to ask you, as Mr. Solomons’s secretary, not to take out any weapons, otherwise our men will shoot all of you, with no discrimination.” Y/N threatened in a low voice, taking her hands from Alfie’s shoulders, and crossed her arms to her chest, ready to draw her weapons at any second. “It’s alright, Y/N, right, I don’t think Mr. Sabini is fucking stupid enough to dare a shoot out in my own fucking warehouse, eh.” Alfie warned the Italian gangster, snapping his fingers for Ollie to come by. “Vaffanculo...Che stronza! No, fine, fine, we’re all calm, all good, right? We can have a business deal and leave this place happy, both parts, right?” Sabini spoke, using his hands to gesture everyone to calm down. “Stick that deal up your ass.” Alfie cursed Sabini in perfect Italian, making Sabini straighten up, almost as if he got sobered by a hammer to his head, and without a second to wait, some of the lackeys drew their guns.

But they were too late, for Y/N already had both guns out and killed most of them, starting with Sabini himself, and Ollie’s boys helped up just enough to have the Red Sea at their feet.

Once all the enemies were laying dead on the cold, wet ground, Y/N sighed, throwing the guns to the ground, sighing and staring at the carnage with the eyes of a dead fish.

Alfie nodded to himself, pissed off at the mess that just had to happen, a week before they were going to sail to a better place, without either of them having to bloody their hands anymore, just like now.

“Well, Ollie’s got them all, so we’re good now. The sooner we finish the preparations, the better. Let’s hope Changretta the Bitch gets blown up...I should go check on Cyril, I’m sure he got scared by the gunshots.” Y/N sighed, patting him on the shoulder before turning on her heels to leave, and yet, Alfie motioned to Ollie to clear the mess, and then followed her back to their room, watching her cuddle with the beautiful dog. “Are you alright, Y/N?” Alfie asked, sitting on the edge of the bed, his hand reaching to stroke her hair, only for Cyril to reach to get his head pet instead. “Aw, Cyril...You’re the cutest baby ever. And...I will be, Alfie. I will be. Soon...Once we leave, I will be. Until then, I’m happy spending my time with you and Cyril. It relaxes me...And it makes me happy. WE are happy.” she reached out her hand, holding his, intertwining their fingers together and leading him to lay on his side, with the dog between them, like they were a family. “Well, darling, it’s just a few days longer, and we’re out of here, right. And we’ll be a family, like you want, and by the shore, there’re no more gunshots, right, so, we can learn how to swim, and we can mess with this slobbery bastard, and I can teach you how to bake other things. I heard the waves and the salty air help you sleep better. Ain’t that just fucking perfect, eh?” Alfie gave her a sweet smile, and laid there, with her, relaxing. “Sounds amazing, Alfie. I can’t wait for Margate, then. Just you, and me, and Cyril...And maybe Ollie too, y’know, that guy makes the best tea, ain’t gonna lie.” she giggled, squeezing his hand lovingly. “Aye, it’s gonna be great. And, we can travel wherever you want, whenever you want. Any country, any city, any date. You pick, we go. Sounds good?” Alfie asked, smiling tenderly at her excitement, happy that she wasn’t stuck on the previous blood bath. “Yeah, it sounds perfect. As long as we’re together, everything is better.”

[jaceyneedsabetterusername]

Whiskey and Roses

Pairings: Arthur Shelby x Reader

Request: “ Whiskey Pecan Pie was so sweet!! Could you make a second part where they go on a date and confess?:)” - Anon 

Warnings: Brief mention of drug use

Word Count: 2154

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The business Tommy had called a meeting for hadn’t been nearly as important as the way Finn had made it seem. Damn him, pulling Arthur away from you, his only refuge from the darkness that seemed to consume his life. But whatever, he’d be going back to see you tomorrow anyways. 

Everyone had been mulling around the Shelby Company Ltd. after the meeting, Tommy not having given directions for anything but rather just filled everyone in on his newest diabolical plan. Arthur retired back to his office, away from the average blokes who filled the room, wasting their money on rigged races in the main room. 

He set the tart that had remained untouched so far on the wood of his desk and looked down at it, the warm feeling that his younger brother had stolen from him slowly returning at the thought of you. 

“You like her don’t you?” Finn’s voice asked from the doorway, a boyish knowing smile on his face while he leaned against the frame of the door. 

Arthur looked up from his pie and straightened his jacket out, trying to bluff his feelings away, “I don’t know what you mean. Like who?” 

Finn pushed himself off the wooden frame and walked into the room, “The girl from the bakery. The one who made you that.” He pointed to the tart, “What even is it?” 

Arthur sighed, knowing that he’d been caught. Around Tommy or John, perhaps he would have tried to conceal his feelings but Finn had this innocence and desire to be trusted by his older brothers that made him a perfect confidant for little schoolyard things like crushes. “I think she said it was a whiskey pecan pie? Or tart? I don’t fucking know.” 

“Well, is it any good?” Finn was doing a terrible job of hiding the fact that he wanted to try it as well because it did look undeniably delicious. 

Arthur shrugged, “Haven’t tried it yet.” He picked it up and broke a piece off the end before handing the plate over to his youngest brother for him to try. Neither of them needed to comment on the taste. It was amazing. It was salty but sweet and there was just the right amount of whiskey. The crust was buttery and flaky. It was one of the best desserts either Shelby boy had ever had. 

“Wow-” Finn said eventually, “You should marry this girl.” He added with a laugh. 

The thought of marrying you made his heart warm, “Yeah, maybe I should.” 

“Who are we marrying now?” Tommy asked, walking into Arthur’s office like he owned the place. Well… he kinda did. 

“The girl who works at the bakery that Arthur’s in love with.” Finn ratted him out and Arthur sent him a look of annoyance. 

Tommy stopped and pulled a pack of cigarettes out of his coat pocket, gesturing to Arthur with them, “You fuck her yet?” 

Arthur rolled his eyes, “That’s not all all girls are good for, Tommy.” 

The other two Shelbys looked at Arthur in surprise. That wasn’t a phrase they ever expected to hear from… well, any of them except for maybe Finn. “Is she a nice girl?” Tommy questioned. 

Arthur nodded, lovestruck “Pro’lly the nicest one I ever met.” 

“Then don’t marry her.” 

Finn’s face scrunched up, “What? Why?” 

“You know how we live, what our lives are like. It’s no place for a nice girl.” Almost seamlessly, Tommy threw down a file onto Arthur’s desk, “These are some of our records from the books. I need you to sign them and make sure they’re all in order before I have Lizzy file them.” Without another word, Tommy left the room, leaving Arthur and Finn in there. 

There was a heavy silence as the weight of what Tommy said hung over the room, “Maybe he’s right. I shouldn’t bring her into all this.” Arthur allowed his emotions to be silenced by his younger brother’s interjections once again. 

Finn shook his head, “No, Arthur. Tommy always gets what he wants, whether it’s a lay or a wife. Why shouldn’t you get to be happy too?” 

Arthur had never figured himself to be one for picking favorite siblings but he was pretty sure that if he did, Finn would be pretty high up on the list right now. “You’re right. I’m gonna ask her out on a date tonight.” 

**

Later that evening, Arthur stood just around the corner from the bakery, shifting his weight nervously from one foot to the other. He felt ridiculous. His hair was actually slicked back for once, something he never really put too much thought into since it almost always got messed up in fights anyways. Two pink roses tied together with twine were twirling in his hands, flowers that he actually paid for instead of demanding them or picking them from someone’s garden without asking. 

“You can do this.” He muttered to himself under his breath, finally working up the courage to take the next step or two towards the door before stopping himself. No, you can’t! You probably look like a fucking idiot! The self-depricating part of his mind screamed at him and he backstepped. “Dammit!” He groaned as he warred with himself. This shouldn’t be this hard. 

Little did he know, you were just leaving the bakery to head home for the evening. You walked out the front door, locking it behind you and sliding the key into your coat pocket before turning down the street to walk home. Arthur stood there - was he talking to himself? “Arthur Shelby, is that you?” You asked, surprised to see him over here this late. 

Arthur looked up at you like a deer in headlights. Shit, you probably saw him talking to himself. “Oh, erm, hello there Y/N.” He greeted awkwardly, trying to pretend like he totally wasn’t arguing with himself a moment ago. 

You walked up to him, the faint click of your heels carrying you to stand before him, “What’re you doing over here?” You asked curiously. 

Arthur ripped his hat from his head as quickly as he could without slicing his hands and rang the material with his fingers, “Um, well, I- um, I actually came over here to see you and tell you that I think you’re really kind and beautiful and wanted to see if you maybe wanted to grab a drink with me tonight?” How did you possess the power to turn this commanding man into a babbling mess of word soup?! 

Your face turned red and your eyes widened in surprise at the proposition, “Oh-” 

“Oh! And these are for you!” Arthur suddenly remembered, holding out the two little pale pink roses to you. 

You carefully took the roses from him, noticing that he actually took the time to pick off all the thorns so you wouldn’t prick yourself on them. Nobody had ever made a gesture like this for you. “They’re beautiful. Thank you. And I’d love to get drinks with you tonight. Can I just run home and change? I probably look and smell like a mess.” You chuckled, suddenly self-conscious about the flour that had managed to stick to your shirt despite the apron’s best effort to protect your clothes. 

“I think you look great.” Arthur looked at you as if you held all the stars in your eyes. Sure, a few little tendrils of hair had fallen from your updo from the day’s work and there were a few faint little streaks of white flour on your blue blouse but you smelled of sugar and fruit after the long hours of work. He didn’t mind the tiny imperfections one bit. If anything, he thought they only made you look more perfect. They were a reminder that you weren’t some celestial hallucination from doing too much cocaine or alcohol but that you were real and tangible and beautiful. 

“So where are we going off to drink then?” You initiated, taking a few steps forward until Arthur fell into stride beside you. 

“I was thinking the Garrison, if that’s alright with you.” He scolded himself right when the words left his lips. Why hadn’t it occurred to him that a nice lady, as Tommy put it, probably wouldn’t want to be somewhere like the Garrison. It wasn’t exactly known as a high class establishment… or an establishment where anyone of any sort of class went. Fights amongst drunkards weren’t uncommon there and that was when-

“Sounds good to me.” You chirped next to him. Arthur looked down to see you smiling shyly, not a hint of apprehension about the location he’d picked on your face. 

Arthur stammered, “You know the Garrison?” Did you even know what you were agreeing to? 

You nodded, “Yeah, I mean, I’ve never been in but I walk past it on my way to and from the bakery every day.” 

“Oh- oh, okay, then.”

How the hell had he managed to do nothing but screw up so far and still have you smiling by his side? Were you just being kind or were you blissfully unaware? 

The walk was short and filled with small talk that had flowed surprisingly well, just as all your conversations had since you met. When the pair of you walked through the doors of the pub, a lot of people chose not to regard Arthur’s presence until they saw the fact that he actually looked like he did his hair and bothered to take off his hat and hold the door open for you. And did he brush his mustache?! One sharp look from the eldest Shelby, though, sent all the curious, snickering eyes away. 

“What would you like?” He asked when you walked past the bar, his gruff voice sweet and soft. 

You thought for a moment, “Can I have a pint please?” 

“‘Nd I’ll have the usual.” Arthur told the bartender before leading you to a small booth in the back of the house, far enough away where the scent of whiskey and piss wasn’t reeking off the drunks. 

“I must say, I had you pegged for more of a gin drinker.” Arthur commented and you shrugged.

“It’s nice sometimes but I guess I felt more like a beer right now. And what about you? ‘The usual?’” You echoed, “Come here often?” You already knew the answer. Like you said, you came past here every night. You were more than aware of the fact that the Shelbys owned it.

Arthur froze up, “Oh, well, um- we…” 

“I’m only teasing, Arthur. I know you guys practically run this place.” You slid into the booth against the wall and Arthur took the seat across the table. 

“You do?” This was it. The moment the entire illusion he’d tried to create about him being a good man was about to come crashing around him. You’d call him a liar and a no good dirty scoundrel or so much worse. 

But none of that happened. Instead, you only nodded, “Mhm.” The bartender dropped your drinks off and you sipped the beer, noticing from over the brim of the glass the panic in Arthur’s eyes, “I do live here in Small Heath, Arthur. I know who you are. I know what you guys do.” Your voice wasn’t judgemental though, more matter-of-fact. Like you couldn’t believe he actually thought you were oblivious to the fact that he was one of the leaders of the Peaky Blinders. 

“And-and you still came out with me tonight?” He was in shock, not only that you knew who he was but that he’d been caught in his lie. But he wasn’t really lying about who he was, was he? 

“Of course, I did. I’ve known who you are since long before you ever came into the bakery. But you’ve always been so kind to me. And I can’t really deny my feelings for you.” You sipped your beer again before setting it down and leaning on the table. 

Arthur was trying to calculate what in the actual fuck was going on. You knew the truth and you didn’t hate him? “Haven’t you heard any stories?” 

“I’ve heard some.” You responded matter-of-factly, “But, in all honesty, gossip about a Shelby brother is always hard to come by with people fearing for their wellbeing and all.” 

“And you still want to be with me?” Arthur eyed you, unsure if you were crazy or naive. 

You leaned forward onto your elbows, hands almost touching his again, “Against all logic telling me that this probably isn’t a good idea, I can’t deny my feelings for you. Maybe it’s dumb, but I trust you. And until you prove to me otherwise, I’d like to keep it that way.” 

“I know I’m not a perfect man. Probably far from even a decent one. But you are the most amazing woman I’ve ever met and you make me want to be a better man.” Arthur paused, “‘M sorry. I’ve never been good with words.” 

You shook your head and grasped his hands gently, “I think you’re already better than you think you are.” 

[geekydane]

Talk to me  - Tommy Shelby x reader - chapter 10

Masterlist 

Warning!!! This became kind of brutal, so please keep that in mind before reading!

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It was a strange sensation waking up the next day. The chest that your body was sprawled on top of was the same, but the bed was not nearly as soft as you were used to. The air didn’t smell of leather furniture and faint cigarette smoke. It was more of old wooden walls and the remaining embers from the fireplace. You breathed in heavily and stretched out the arm and leg that you weren’t laying on which also made Tommy stir. He strained his back for a moment before he relaxed again.

“We need to get you a new bed. This one is horrible. No wonder you were so easy to persuade to sleep in mine.” His voice was raspy and he was slightly mumbling but it was really attractive. It did help with the fact that he let his fingers run up and down your arm. It gave you that lovely tingling feeling in the pit of your stomach that always came when you were near Tommy. Whenever he touched you. It was strange how a single human could make you hungry for touch, when you have been moving away from it for years. You couldn’t help but look Tommy in the eyes and give him a smile. For a long time you just laid there looking at each other until the buzz of people on the streets started to grow louder. That indicated that you two might have to get up and get going.

Tommy sighed heavy as he started to sit up, forcing you to roll over. He started to get dressed in his clothing from the day before. Suddenly the tables had turned and he was in the position you were in every morning. You walked to your drawers and found a dress and stockings for the day.

“I’m not about to snoop in your drawers but do you perhaps have anything… fancy in there?” Tommy came up behind you and you gave him a frown. What has he on about?

“I mean, do you have anything that might be fitting for a place a bit fancier than the Garrison? No offence to my brother.” Tommy rolled his eyes and smiled. Those already high cheekbones reaching higher than you had ever seen before. He raised his eyebrows and gestured for you to continue and you opened up a new drawer and pulled out one of your older dresses that you had saved from when you lived with the Langstons. They required you to look your best if you were out with them. You had to get out sometimes so society knew that they still fed you and you were alive.

It was a royal blue ankle-long dress with short sleeves. It was a little old fashion with a tighter waist than what the most fashionable women wore, but it was very presentable, even though it had folds in the fabric from being in the drawer instead of hanging in a real closet. You held it up in front of you so that Tommy could see how it looked. You still wondered what he had I mind as he took a step back and looked you over.

“That will do. I’m sure you will look beautiful. Can you meet me at the office at 9? Then you can press out the folds in the dress and put your hair up. I want to take you with me to a very special meeting… or we can call it; a dinner.” Tommy went and got his jacket on the stool where the rest of his clothing was left folded neatly and put it on. He gave your arm a squeeze when you nodded to answer yes to his question. At that point you were almost ready to go to the end of the world with that man. What was wrong with you? Tommy fetched his jacket and hurried out of your bedroom. Only a moment later you heard your front door open and close again.

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It was a long time ago since you really had to get all dressed up. You were looking at yourself in the mirror and pinched your cheeks to give them a little colour. You had done your best with the hair pins you had and your hair was successfully held up and stroke back. The question was for how long it will stay that way. One blow of the wind and it might look horrible. You had a moment of panic when you thought that the dress might have not fit you anymore, but as soon as all the buttons was closed and you breathed out, it still fit you perfectly.

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You stepped out onto the street in your usual heels you used for work – hoping that it was okay. You received a few stares from people on their daily walk to and from work. You knew that the dress would have that effect because it wasn’t a rich neighbourhood and the dress fit the company of the Langstons who had a spot in the House of Lords. You had feared that walk to the office and you walked faster than you had ever done in high heels.

It was weird stepping inside the office all dressed up. You didn’t know if it was your anxiety that talked to you, but you were sure there became slightly quieter as you stepped in. The men glaring at you as you passed them. You clutched your bag closer to as you walked pass all the bookmarkers and into your own office. Lizzie was already working and looked up as you stepped in.

“Oh there you are! I was worried when you didn’t come in this morning. I said to the Shelby’s that we might should go look for you, but Tommy said that it wasn’t necessary… Why are you all dressed up?” Lizzie looked up and down at you. You pointed to Tommy’s office and hoped that was answer enough, because you didn’t know exactly what you were doing either.

“Did Tommy tell you to do it?” She asked and you quickly nodded. She suddenly looked a little sour and sat a little taller in her chair.

“Well he’s not in his office. He hasn’t been in yet.” She said a little angrily as she started to type in numbers on the calculator. You didn’t know what to do with yourself. Should you start working like you used to or should you wait at his office? Lizzie gave you the side eye once more and you decided that you might want to wait in Tommy’s office instead of being around her for much longer. You didn’t want the sudden unfriendliness getting to you, when you had just had such a good morning.

Letting yourself into his office you could immediately feel the conversation stopping in the room. Lizzie said that Tommy wasn’t in, but apparently that didn’t mean that his office was empty. Arthur was sitting in Tommy’s chair and John was half sitting on the desk, both with a dead stare at you until they recognized you and relaxed a little.

“Y/n. What the hell are you doing all dolled up?” Arthur laughed a little but John just nodded at you with lifted eyebrows.

“I think Tommy got a plan. You look lovely.” The Birmingham accent was strong but the compliment was still much appreciated when all people had done was staring and being sour. Arthur huffed at the remark and just then Tommy stepped into the office with Lizzie.

“I told her you weren’t in.” Lizzie said and was about to walk into Tommy, as he stopped right inside the door. He caught your eyes and smiled at you.

“I knew that dress would do it when I saw it this morning. You look absolutely wonderful.” Tommy had such a wide grin that you had to look away to not show how hard you might be blushing. Pinching the cheeks might not have been necessary. It wasn’t like Tommy didn’t look good as well. He was wearing a suit that looked very sophisticated, with a waistcoat that matched the jacket. A little silver chain hang from an inner pocket to show off the pocket watch but at the same time you couldn’t see any trace of any gun on him.

“I suspect we are taking her with us?” Arthur said as Tommy walked up to you and placed a hand in the small of your back. He turned to Lizzie that was still standing in the door, watching over the scene.

“Thank you, Lizzie. We got it from here.” He said and Lizzie huffed before closing the door behind her. Tommy then looked to Arthur.

“I am sure Lady Finch will love her. She might soften up a bit and wants to agree to make a deal with us if she knows that we are not just men involved. She’s a very proud woman.” Tommy explained and John nodded.

“Well then let’s go then. We need to hurry if we have to be there at dinnertime.” John walked passed you and winked before leaving the office with Arthur. Tommy stayed back with you.

“You really do look wonderful. I hope you are okay with going with me to this business dinner. It’s in Manchester but there are no Mick King, no guns. We are going to visit Lady Isabella Finch. Her father was the Earl of Winchilsea, a very rich man. She inherited his fortune when the law was changed for female heirs but wanted to be financial independent beforehand. She has been in some shady business for many years now and nobody can touch her because of her title. She’s a bloody genius.” You tried to imagine what this daughter of an Earl might be involved with but you had never imagined anyone with a title of nobility being involved with something shady. The public eye was always on them and the newspapers were ready to write about all the rich and well-known families. Tommy started to guide you through the building and through all the many stares.

“It will all make sense when we get there. John and Arthur will be with us. They will park the car around the corner and keep an eye out for anything. If everything will go according to plan, we will be home and able to sleep in our own bed tonight… My bed, of course, yours are dreadful.”

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As Tommy said John parked his car around the corner and Tommy helped you out of the darks very small backseat. It had been a wonderful trip there but also very bumpy. It was a relief to get out of the car and stretch your legs. The streets looked like a very wealthy district, much like where you had lived with the Langstons. The houses all had very well kept art nouveau style facades and the small front yards leading to the sidewalks were very heavily decorated with flowers and painted iron gates.

“Stay around the area. Don’t attract any attention. If anyone starts wondering what you are doing here, drive around the blocks and return to this street.” Tommy murmured to his brothers and they both nodded. John pulled his hat further down over his eyes and leaned back into his seat. Tommy gave you his arm and you let him lead you to your final destination. You walked around the next corner and seemingly a long way down the beautiful street. Tommy stopped in front of a very Victorian looking house with 3 floors. It was huge considering that this was right in the heart of Birmingham and it was very expensive living here. This Lady Finch must be more wealth than your father had been.

You walked to the front door and it was a servant opening the door, taking your names and made you wait a moment. When he returned he assured you that the Lady of the house was expecting you and you should follow along. The hall was massive of course. With high ceilings she could really show off her chandelier than for many years had been the sign of how wealthy the family was. It was also conveniently placed in the entering hall or the ball room of a house so everyone would notice it. The lady greeting you did look very pleased when she noticed that the both of you were looking at the ceiling when you stepped in.

“You must be Mr. Thomas Shelby.” She said and walked towards you with the elegance of a cat. Lady Isabella Finch was much older than you had imagined. She was an elderly woman with a long face with chin-length hair that framed her face. She was wearing a long-sleeved dress with just the right cut for the season. She was a very stylish for an older woman and you suddenly felt uncomfortable in your old dress that was hopelessly out of fashion.

“It’s a pleasure to finally meet you my Lady.” Tommy bowed at her like the gentleman he could be and you curtsied next to him for good measure, even though she hadn’t addressed you yet.

“You have certainly done yours to make this meeting happen. Very eager. And who is this lovely young woman?” She let Tommy kiss the top of her hand as she finally looked towards you. Your heart started to pound faster but Tommy came to just rescue almost immediately.

“This is my lovely partner y/n y/l/n.” Lady Isabella seemed a little offended for you, that Tommy was the one introducing you and not yourself. At the same time you tried not to react to how Tommy had just called you his partner and what he might have meant with that.

“She can’t introduce herself, unfortunately. She’s mute.” Tommy explained. That made her squint her eyes as she looked at you for a long while, like she just remembered something.

“Well it’s nice to meet you too, miss y/l/n. Will you follow me to the dining room? The dinner will be served in a moment.”

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You were let into a spectacular dining room with a massive table that was big enough for at least 16 people. It was only the three of you in the far end of the table. She was sat at the end of the table and she wanted the two of you to sit on each your side of her. You knew it was an old custom that man and wife didn’t sit next to each other at a table and the thought of that made you blush.

“So, Mr. Shelby. Let’s dive right into why you have sent me so many requests of meetings. I’m sure it has something to do with all the building suddenly bearing the name ‘Shelby Limited’ on them around Manchester?” You were surprised how openly she was talking about these things as servants ran around you serving the starters. Tommy did look a little baffled too and cleared his throat before speaking, just to buy time, so that the servants went out to the kitchen again.

“I’m glad you have noticed that I’m expanding my business. I hope there hasn’t been any trouble involving any of your men.”

“If any of my men had been involved, we wouldn’t be sitting here tonight. No, I’ve noticed how you and Mr. King have served heads to each other on silver plates lately. I’m just curious to see how this will affect my business.” There was a silence filled with clanging of silverware scraping the plates and wine sipping.

“Mr. King doesn’t like that I’m playing on the same playground as him. He wants me out, but I’m sure he will come to terms.”

“When he doesn’t have any more men?” Lady Isabella blurted out and you almost choked on your wine. Tommy looked to you with a grin.

“I’m sure he is smart enough to know when to stop and surrender.” There was silent again as the servant appeared again and took away your plates and replaced it with the main course.

“You know, Mr. Shelby, I’ve been doing business with Mr. King for quite a few years now. He owns some of the best locations in this city. He is renting them for a very generous sum. He promises protection. What can you offer me, which I don’t already get from Mr. King?” The conversation between the two of them was like watching a duel. It was extremely fascinating and they both have been careful with their information, because you knew that if the deal wasn’t going to happen, they would be enemies instead of allies. All information about the other could be used against them.

“My Lady, that is exactly why I am here today. I know about Wilton House and what is going on in there. I am not here to threaten you but I am here to offer you an opportunity. You said that Mr. King might have some of the best locations in this city, but are you really sure about that? Wilton House is far too known to be hidden for much longer. You don’t have to be in my position to know what is going on in there.” You stopped eating and were staring from one to the other. Your fork had stopped half way to your mouth.

“No one in their right mind would go after me. Not even the chief inspectors.” She scoffed.

“Maybe not you personally. But I’ve heard of police raiding some other illegal gambling facilities for less in London. In fact, I only think it was a few weeks ago.”

“And you think the same thing will happen for me?”

“I only think it’s a matter of time.” Tommy said calmly and finished his meal. Lady Isabella leaned back in her chair and ringed a small bell next to her plate to signal that you were all finished. You all sat in silence as the servants came and took everything from the table, leaving only your wine glass.

“So… I am guessing you have a suggestion to a solution.” Lady Isabella finally said and leaned her elbows on the table. It was a cue for Tommy to reach into an inner pocket and you breathed in hard. Tommy took out a piece of paper. You breathed out slowly. You were so sure that he was about to take out his gun. He did say no gun, but you didn’t dare to imagine that he would actually leave without one, when someone like Mick King was after him.

Tommy folded out the paper that turned out to be a map of the whole city of Manchester. You did have a faint memory of visiting the city when you were smaller. Your dad had a business meeting with some factory owner who wanted to mass-produce some of your father’s newest creations. You didn’t know how it ended but you never returned to the city afterwards so you guessed the deal didn’t go through.

“You already told me you know I’m expanding my business and I just want to put some cards on the table that might be advantageous for the both of us. I have taking over an old factory building on Davyhulme Road on the west side, right down to River Irwell. I’ve started to rebuild it as an exclusive club but maybe you could have use of the new facilities instead.” Tommy pointed to a ring on the map. You couldn’t stop yourself leaning in when Lady Isabella did. You recognized the street name from some of the invoices you had ben sorting out the last many months. You had never asked any questions about what who they were from and what the money was used for, but it was amazing to finally get answers to all the things that you had been thinking about while working. Tommy looked to you and smiled. He must have guessed your thoughts because he wiggled with his eyebrow a single time before moving his attention back to Lady Isabella. She was looking at the two of you more than the map at that point though.

“Why would I move my casino to an abandon factory?” She asked and finally leaned back again. You looked back to the map and to the marked circle next to the river. You suddenly got an idea and looked up at Tommy with a sudden motion that caught his attention, but you didn’t know how to voice your thoughts.

"You look like you want to say something. Hold on I have some note paper and a pen.” Tommy reached into the pocket in the other side of jacket and took up a piece of folded paper and a pen with a lid and gave it to you. You started to write your thought down as fast as you could. While you were writing it accrued to you that they had stopped the conversation just for you to write and it made you a little anxious.

“What is she doing?” Lady Isabella said a little quieter than what the previous conversation had been.

"She writes down what she wants to add to a conversation, now that she doesn’t speak. We use to communicate like this at home as well. It’s very handy.” Tommy explained as you finished up and gave the note to Lady Isabella.

it is a lovely placement by the docks. It might be nearby some factories, but the view out there near Davyhulme Park would be ideal for your guests. It would give them a feel of the country side and safety because no one would suspect it out there. The density of the lower class isn’t huge either, so your guests’ cars should be safe out there too. Or else I'm sure Tommy would want to offer protection as well as Mr King does.

Lady Isabella handed the note to Tommy as she – for the first time that night – send you a warm smile.

“You are a bright young woman. How are you involved in all of this?” Tommy handed you back the note for you to write your answer on.

Mr. Shelby’s aunt hired me to be his secretary.

It was simple but true. You handed her the note and tommy read it along with her from the side line.

“I sense that there are more to this story.” She chuckled. One moment this woman was a hard business woman with her eyes only on her business, but suddenly she seemed all motherly and friendly. Tommy sensed the shift in the mood too.

“My lady, can we finish talking about the…”

"I'll have to think about it, Mr. Shelby. In the meantime I want to know about the people I'm dealing with. You two do seem very fount of each other. Have you been together for long?" The older woman grabbed her wine glass and leaned back with a smirk on her lips. She looked at the two of you and you just knew that your cheeks were flaming red. You looked down at the map again, fidgeting with the corner of the paper.

"Well…” Tommy started and paused. “I haven't officially made claim to her, as we are just... Business partners? But I feel confident enough to say that she might not reject me if I asked." Your fingers stopped fidgeting and you dared to sneak a glare at Tommy. He was looking at you with such a loving expression that you forgot how to breathe, until Lady Isabella finally spoke up.

“You two are so adorable.” You were pulled out of your little bubble by Lady Isabella. Her comment only made Tommy make a sour face. I don’t think the word adorable had ever applied for him and he didn’t seem to like it much. Lady Isabella sat with the biggest smirk on her face before she sighed dreamingly.

“I once had a sweetheart on my own, but my father didn’t like him much. When my father died it was too late. I was suddenly allowed to marry anyone I wanted, not that it was looked at with kind eyes. But it was too late. He had found another and all the men flooding to me was only interested in the money I inherited. I send them all away of course.” She explained and took a huge gulp of her wine.

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

“It was a pleasure to host for the two of you. I might pass by Davyhulme Road and take a look.” Lady Isabella was tumbling along the walls drunkenly as she let the two of you to the door. After Tommy’s little outlet of his feeling she started to drink heavily and talked about all the men she could have concurred. You both sat and waited patiently for it to be late enough that you had a reason to say good bye.

“I have men there at all the time. Ask for Williams if you want to see it from the inside. He’s the one with the best overview of the facilities.” Tommy said as he was helping you with your jacket.

“We’ll see, we’ll see.” She said with a hiccup and laughed at herself. Her footman opened the door to you and you were about to step out when Tommy grabbed your hand. You stopped to see if he wanted something but he just signalled you to continue out and you felt him giving your hand a little squeeze.

That was how you ended up going hand in hand down the street. It was a strange feeling. The only people you could remember ever holding hands with were your father and some of your friends when you went out at night. You decided that you liked it and did want to let go, but what if he let go when you reached his brothers? Would it be considered a weakness if he was seen with you like this? A lot of thought when though your head as you walked down the street, but then…

“SHELBY!” Someone shouted from behind you and the both of you turned to see who it was. It was dark and the street was only lit by the weak light of the newly installed electrical lights. Two men came towards you and instinctively Tommy pushed you behind him.

“Who’s there?” Tommy yelled back. The men didn’t response as they came closer.

“Stay back. If anything happens, run to where John and Arthur are waiting.” Tommy mumbled to you. You just stood there as Tommy walked towards the two men in the dim light. You didn’t know what was going through his head as he walked towards them. He didn’t carry a gun, so you knew that his only weapon would he the blade in his cap.

“Gentlemen. Let’s talk.” He called out as you stood nailed to the ground. You looked towards the shadow men coming closer and in just a split of a second the whole scene changed. Something metallic silver in the hand of one of the men caught the light of the street lamps, right before you heard the gunshot.

“TOMMY!” Someone shouted as Tommy staggered back a step. No, not someone, it was you. You shocked yourself but it was like you saw red… This couldn’t happen. Right when everything was going your way again! You ran to Tommy and ignored the two men that had stopped and was just looking as you threw yourself to the ground next to him.

“Y/n. you… you said my name.” He mumbled but his eyes rolled around his head as he tried to focus on you. You looked him over and found blood gushing out and colouring his light grey suit a sickening scarlet. Your breath became faster as you looking down in the face of the man that had become so important to you. He was bleeding out and all he could think about was you speaking. You couldn’t lose him... you couldn’t…

A beastly instinct came up in you again. They deserved to bleed. They deserved…

You opened your handbag and found the gun that Tommy had given you. In one swift movement you got up and pointed the gun towards the man that was nearest and fired. It only took you a second to reload and shoot again before the second man could even find his gun. Bold of them to assume that you wasn’t a danger. You reloaded and walked towards the men. You didn’t know where you hit them but both of them were on the ground. You screamed out as you fired a second bullet at the first man, as you stood over him, right in the side of his head.

“Oh shit, Tommy!” you heard someone yell behind you but it was like it was miles away. All you could see was the men in front of you. You went to the other man – the man who shot at Tommy – who was starting to crawl away from you. Like a snail he was making a trail of blood as he was dragging himself on the cobblestones. You walked next to him for a few small steps before you turned the gun in your hand and hit him in the top of his head, so he collapsed. You kicked him in the side and he made a sickening gurgle sound. You kicked him over so he was lying on his back and he tried to curl up and keep his hand on the wound right under his ribs. You stepped on top of his hands covering the wounds, making his fingers dig into the flesh. He screamed out in agony and you savoured every sound of pain leaving his lips. When he stopped screaming you bent down and pulled up his head by his hair and hit him repeatedly with the bud of the small gun. You lost your grip in his hair and his head flopped to the ground again. Hard. You were about to claw at his face but someone grabbed you by your arms and pulled you back, holding your arms to your back. You screamed at the top of your lungs and tried to get loose but you weren’t strong enough.

“Relax will ya!!” The person capturing you forced you away from the two men and turned you away. The scene you were met with made you go limp. John was sitting next to Tommy with his hand covering the wound in Tommy’s stomach. It was then you went out of your blood frenzy and your head became clear. You looked down at your hands that was smeared in blood and remembered… You had done this before.

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

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Sorry but some of the tags doesn’t work!

[its-sixxers]

Aftermath

Whumptober Day 1 Prompt: Let’s Hang Out Sometime (Waking Up Restrained)

Charon x Lone Wanderer, Fallout 3

Charon opened his eyes. He was greeted by the sight of a crumbling ceiling. A machine beeped nearby, in time with his heartbeat. When he tried to sit up he found himself strapped to the bed he lay upon.

The events before unconsciousness claimed him crashed into him like a freight train. Grief threatened to drown him.

Lizzy was dead. She was in his arms, and now…

Now he was restrained in some sort of medical room, sensors stuck to his skin. His arm was wrapped in thick bandages. There was only one place it could be. The Citadel. To his dread, he realized it meant that the Brotherhood was his new employer. He had failed to protect Lizzy, and now he was a slave again.

It was a cruel irony. The room reminded him of one ages past - sensors and scientists, tearing into his skull and ripping free will from him. Again the cycle had continued, another turn of the wheel. Another employer to serve. He wouldn’t be lucky this time. Lizzy was a comet, seen only once a century, perhaps - and her light had faded from the sky. The Brotherhood… he’d seen the mark they left on the world over the decades.

Charon started to hyperventilate, the prospect of another lifetime in hell settling over him. No. Not again, never again - he’d seen the light now, tasted freedom - he couldn’t bear to return.

The leather strapping him to the medical bed dug into his chest as it rose and fell, the machine he was hooked up to starting to beep frantically with his increasing heart rate. He struggled against his bindings - maybe if he escaped he could run. He could try to make sure the first person he stumbled across was humble, a farmer who wouldn’t use him for ill. Charon had tried it before and failed, but that was decades ago - maybe time had worn his conditioning thinner.

With a snap the leather belts restraining him split open, freeing his arms. He unfastened the rest with haste and pulled the sensors from his ruined skin. The machine let out a high pitched whine as it flat-lined.

Charon reached for the door and pulled it open - the hall beyond was empty and dimly lit. What time was it? Observation windows lined it next to doors, granting sight into the rooms beyond. He started down the hall, gazing into each window to make sure he could pass by unseen. 

A pounding began in his head once he’d made it several yards from his room. The conditioning was impossible to ignore, but it didn’t stop him from trying to fight past it. He couldn’t do it again, he couldn’t live under someone who saw him as a soldier instead of a friend. More than anything, he couldn’t bear to serve the very people that had abandoned Lizzy in the purifier, the people that were willing to let her sacrifice herself. They had all fed into the pressure on her, told her the only way she could help the world was by martyring herself. So hard she had struggled, so many tears he’d wiped away, and for what?

The headache turned into a full blown migraine as he rounded a corner, pressure pushing against the back of his eyes. Charon stumbled - he knew if he turned around it would fade instantaneously but going back was even worse. The halls were like a maze, and the pain made them even more disorienting.

When he next rounded a corner he was greeted by the sight of Sarah Lyons speaking in low tones to Madison Li outside one of the doors. The sound of tearing metal screeched in his head as he staggered back, trying to escape their notice. At six and a half feet tall, going unseen was impossible.

Dr. Li’s eyes widened, and she tapped Lyons on the shoulder to get her to turn around. “He’s not supposed to be awake. We gave him enough tranquilizers to down a brahmin.”

“Shit.” Lyons murmured, starting to take a few slow steps toward him. “Hey, big guy. Your arm’s still pretty messed up - you should be in bed.”

It wasn’t an order, and for that he was grateful. Charon lunged, elbowing past her and Dr. Li and sprinting down the hall.

Lyons was hot on his heels, the white hot pain in his skull flaring to life again. It was getting hard to see - his shoulder hit the edge of a doorway, and he collided with a wall. Balance as well as his sight started to go - the floor felt like it was moving under his feet in waves. He wondered if the conditioning would kill him, if he continued to disobey - fail-safe was the word.

The paladin caught up with him and tackled him, sending the two of them careening into one of the observation windows. Charon struggled, but she grabbed what little hair still remained on his head and forced it forward.

“Look!” Lyons shouted in his ear, and he could do nothing but obey. Immediately the pain lifted, obedience granting relief. His eyesight cleared.

In the room beyond the observation window a small figure lay in the bed amidst a web of tubes and censors, encircled by monitors and other equipment. Layers of clear plastic hung from the ceiling, separating the bed from the rest of the room like a veil. The face of the patient within was wrapped in bandages, but the pip-boy on their wrist was unmistakable.

Lizzy was alive. 

“Impossible.” he murmured, on the verge of weeping from relief. Lyons released him and stepped back, still panting.

“That’s what Dr. Li said.” she breathed, the sound of heels clicking down the hallway signalling the doctor’s approach. “The purifier’s completely off limits, the rads are off the charts.”

“She’s not out of the woods yet.” Dr. Li replied as she came into view, mouth curved into a scowl. “Usually such a potent dose so quickly kills instantaneously, but it’s not unheard of for it to take days.”

“Let me in.” Charon was free for the moment - if he had any sense he’d keep running so that when she inevitably died he’d be somewhere safe, but now even the separation of the glass was unbearable.

“It’s a contamination risk.” Dr. Li shook her head. 

“I’m a ghoul.” he gritted out between clenched teeth. “I do not intend to leave that room.”

Lyons looked to Dr. Li out of the corner of her eye. The look was returned - the two women contemplating if it was worth the fight that was likely to ensue. Lyons didn’t seem too keen on wrestling him.

“Fine. It’ll save us the tranquilizers, at least.” The doctor sighed. “I’m going to lock the door behind you. When the nurses arrive, stand in the corner and don’t touch them. They’ll be in hazmat suits, but don’t think you can act normal.”

Charon was already standing at the door, waiting for her to key in the access code. “Just let me in.”

Dr. Li huffed and pressed the required keys - Charon watched the sequence and memorized the numbers. The door slid open, he took a few steps inside, and it shut abruptly behind him.

The room stank of iodine and Rad-Away. He took a heavy step forward, terrified that he might upset the precarious balance. Despite all the machines it was fairly silent - the heart monitor beeped weakly, the others whirring gently away. Charon reached out to the plastic and gently pushed it away - he felt his skin tingle as the veil was broken, matching the gentle clicking of her geiger counter.

There was another layer of plastic he had to step past before he could occupy the same air she did, another breeze of radiation settling over him as he did so. The poison still clung to her body, likely tearing apart her DNA with every passing moment. Every inch of her skin save for that covered by her pip-boy was wrapped in bandages. He could see the blood leeching through.

Acute radiation poisoning was one of the worst ways to go out in the wastes. He’d seen enough of it in his time to guess what sights lay beneath the gauze.

Charon gently slipped his hand under hers, letting her fingertips trace over his palm. “Zaychik.” he choked out, ruined vocal cords rasping and sore. He’d sworn to protect her, the duty was written in his skull as well as his heart - and now he could do nothing but keep vigil. If he had to watch her die, he would.

A little noise came from her, muffled through the bandages. She was awake - he saw her try to shift her body, a broken whine of pain coming from her throat with the effort. He could only imagine the agony she must have been suffering.

“Stay still.” he said gently. “I’m here now.”

Lizzy’s fingers curled against his palm, and she exhaled.

The wait began.

[redhairedwolfwitch]

There’s Always a Loophole - Legacies x Noralise!Daughter Reader

I’ll Tell You A Story

B/m/n = biological mother’s name

You let out a growl under your breath as you watched Triad breach the gate and enter the ground. Turning on your heel, you stormed towards your room, sliding the window open to climb out of it then up onto the roof.

You had to be careful as you watched Triad head towards the doors where Hope and the Squad were leaving

”Oh, sorry, we were about to knock.”

“Who the hell are you?” Lizzie snapped, making you careful creep closer with a gargoyle head in your hands, much to your struggle.

“What the fuck?” You whispered as you saw Hope’s spell fail, that was until you almost knocked over another gargoyle due to your wings which were no longer cloaked.

Kaleb’s groans of pain made you realise.

All the magic was gone.

No witch spells or daylight rings.

“What you don’t got is magic. That’s why your daylight ring won’t work. But what we’ve got are stakes, wolfsbane-” 

You glared at that, debating whether to drop the gargoyle head on his skull but you knew they’d kill your friends.

“Is it bad I want her to drop it and crush his skull?” Nora enquired, a fire in her eyes as she watched you.

“Not at all, my love.” Mary-Louise smirked before B/m/n deadpanned.

“His backup would kill all her friends if she did.”

///

You were still hidden on the roof as everyone was forced inside by Triad. You were trying to sneak back in without being seen but it was easier said than done. 

Triad were patrolling outside with guns that you knew could hurt you and your cloaking spells wouldn’t work due to the magic ban.

You managed to get into your room after a while but slipping into the crowds was hard when everyone was gathered in one place.

The end of a gun being pointed between your wings made you freeze.

“Shit.” “Y/n, be careful.” B/m/n whispered but it wasn’t like you could hear them.

“They’re attached but reduced to decoration due to there being no magic, dickwad.” You snapped before being shoved towards where everyone was. You made a beeline for Hope who raised an eyebrow at you as she noticed the amount of limestone dust on your clothes and hands.

“Long story.”

///

“It’s dead, we have to find the school cell.” Hope began, the four of you searching Alaric’s office. You paused near the window as you tried to get your phone to work.

“You still have your phone?” Josie began but you just shrugged.

“They didn’t check my boots. Too distracted by my wings. Dickwads.” You grumbled under your breath, frowning as you realised there was no signal.

“Dickwads. As Y/n puts it so gracefully.” Mary-Louise retorted, folding her arms and flaring her nostrils in anger.

“Didn’t this shelf used to have books on it?” Hope faltered, staring at the shelf in question. Instead of books, a red box laid there.

“Whatever they’re doing to block out our magic must have knocked out a cloaking spell your dad had.” Hope reasoned, but you were too distracted by realisation.

“What’s in the box won’t help us.” You stated, reaching for it as Hope slapped your hand away.

“Is that the-” “Malachai Parker’s prison world ascendent box? Yep.” B/m/n confirmed, making Noralise both look worried at the twins’ discovery of it.

“Unless it has the school phone in it, it doesn’t matter.” Hope stated, dragging you over to help search more as the twins bickered.

“Hey guys.” Hope began, whirling around with an enthusiam that made you jump.

“Found it!”

///

“So, what do we do now?” Lizzie asked.

“Now? We figure out a way to get our powers back and we kick some paramilitary ass.” Hope affirmed, but you went quiet as a high pitch noise echoed in your ears.

“Hide.”

The voice whispered, making you jump up into the shelving behind the door, holding a finger to your mouth as a signal to Hope and the twins.

“How did Y/n know to hide?” B/m/n questioned but Noralise just shook their heads. “No bloody clue.”

“These bullets were formed by the mud of the Malivore pit and weaponised by Triad scientists. They can break through the skin of any supernatural like a hot knife through butter. Fester. Infect them. Disintegrate them from the inside out.” Burr ranted, loading his gun as he spoke.

“We don’t know where the chalice is.” Josie argued, but you could see her eyes watering from where you crouched, waiting to pounce.

“Wait.”

“I believe you. This is just for fun, really.” Burr stated, there was an excitement in his voice that made you want to throw up.

“Oh my god.” B/m/n realised, wanting to shove Burr away as Noralise wanted to rip him limb from limb.

“Eeny, meeny, miney...” He began, pointing the gun from Hope to Josie to Lizzie.

“Get ready, Y/n.”

“MOE!” Lizzie was faster but you were louder, throwing yourself into attacking Burr, who was on the ground, taking punch after punch from you.

“Y/n, that’s enough.”

The voice was deep, masculine and it felt like that should urk you, a man’s voice in your head, telling you what to do but the voice was familar too. You had no clue how though.

You didn’t realise the gun went off because of the sound of blood rushing in your ears but then you saw it.

Josie was on the ground with a bullet hole near her collarbone.

“Weren’t there two bullets fired?” “Shush, we’ll find out later.” B/m/n hushed Nora’s question, much to Nora’s annoyance.

“I should have dropped that gargoyle head on you when I had the chance.” You sneered, throwing Burr out into the corridor.

“Lock ‘em up.” Burr snarled, spitting blood onto the floor as two Triad agents walked in.

///

One. Two. One. Two. 

The rhythmn of your feet as you paced was usually irritating to everyone around you but Lizzie was busy with Josie and Hope was taping on the cage bars, staring out in frustration.

“I’m sorry. I wasn’t fast enough to stop him from shooting.” Your voice stopped Josie and Lizzie from arguing. “That’s what you were trying to do? I thought you were trying to be a gargoyle.” Lizzie snarked but you just glared.

“Y/n, you couldn’t have known there were two more Triad agents there as well, even if you did jump Burr in time.” Hope reminded but you just pffed at her.

“She’s blaming herself.” “It’s our daughter’s go-to move, I’m surprised you hadn’t realised that earlier, Hildegard.” B/m/n retorted, fist clenched by her sides, even as Nora lunged.

“Hey! Keep it quiet in there!”

“We’re not in the prison yard, asshat!” Lizzie shouted at the Triad agent as he stormed over, whacking his baton on the bars.

///

“My sister is clearly dying and we did not wait ten years to become friends with you, for you to not come through with your annoyingly perfect Hope Mikaelson heroics when we need you the most.” Lizzie explained, offering Hope her hand which she took with teary eyes.

“She’s right, for a change.” Josie stumbled, weakily taking Hope’s hand too as you stood and watched the three of them.

“It’s hero time, Hope.” Josie affirmed, before a clank made you glare.

“I said keep it down in there.” The guard growled before he dropped to the ground, revealing MG with a tranq gun pointed.

“Did someone say hero time?” Mg enquired, Hope and Lizzie standing up as you stepped forward with a smirk which fell at the voice in your head again.

“Now the pieces are falling into place.”

///

“A blood fountain? Gross.” Hope remarked, making you blanch in realisation.

“It’s even grosser in person. Trust me. I was looking for a way to shut it off, but I couldn’t figure out how.” MG explained, pausing as he saw you raise your hand to speak.

“Y/n?”

“It’s traveller magic, the Travellers were experts in magic nullification. The fountain was put in place to protect the humans outside the school... in case the supernaturals within got so out of control that it risked everything. My aunt Valerie was told this at the parent-guardian, teacher things when you’re being applied to the school. I know how the fountain works but no clue on how to turn it off.” You explained with a shrug.

“Of course Valerie told her about Alaric’s contingency plan and the Travellers.” “She did something right-” “Okay, ladies, we get it but Valerie did at least look after Y/n after we all, y’know, died.” B/m/n reminded, causing Noralise to fall silent.

“Well, I’ll go find the secret tunnel.” Hope proposed, gaining a nod from MG in response.

“Once we get our magic back, we’ll have the upper hand.”

“And I can siphon the magic sludge out of Josie, not like she’ll appreciate it.” Lizzie remarked after MG stopped speaking.

///

“You need to go help Landon. We don’t need you here, we’ve got the angel hybrid who apparently knows everything about the school’s defense mechanisms and we’ve got everyone else. Landon has nobody.” MG stated, making Hope frown.

“But I can’t just leave you guys here.” She argued before Lizzie interrupted.

“For the love of Frodo, go rescue your hobbit. We’ll muddle through.”

“She’s right. He needs you.” Josie croaked, she was several shades paler than before as the bullet holes got darker and darker.

“We’ve been watching you save the day this entire school year, Hope. We got it. Now go save Landon.” MG asserted.

“Go. If you go soft on us now, I’m just going to hurl Maligoo.” Josie stated in her weak voice.

You just nodded at Hope as she looked at you, giving you a soft look before she hurried out.

“Hope’s Y/n’s best friend, isn’t she?” “Can you imagine what life would have been like if Y/n didn’t know Hope?” I don’t want too.”

///

“What were you two doing out there?”

“Looking for your unholy grail.” You retorted, making Burr glare at you.

“Put them with the others, they’re as useless as they are.”

“Asshat.” you growled under your breath as you were shoved over with MG to Kaleb, Raf, Jed and Pedro.

“You guys made it back just in time.” Kaleb stated making you nod.

“We have a plan.”

///

You were standing at the top of the stairs with MG when you saw Kaleb stick his hand into the sunlight coming through the window.

The corner of your lip quirked upwards as you saw their exchanged nods.

“What’s the bling for?” Raf asked, grimacing as his wolf and human sides continued to blend and fight.

“Making quiet things heard.” MG stated, holding the metal pendant in his hand.

“SALVATORE STALLIONS. LET’S RIDE!” MG’s voice boomed across the school, signalling everyone as you climbed on the bannister.

“Fly, young one, fly.”

You didn’t need to hear the voice twice as you leapt off, flying through the air to land on and take down two Triad agents.

“She flies like a baby bird.” “What? Like she’s been shoved and forced to fly?” “I never said she flies well.” Noralise bantered, making B/m/n facepalm between watching you and your fellow students kick ass.

“Their magic’s back! Somebody get to the tunnels and fix this!” Burr shouted before you kicked the Triad agent next to him in the head.

“Dickwad.” You growled before dropping to the ground to kick another agent in the ankles, sending them flying.

///

You managed to land on the bus as you saw Raf in his wolf form head for the woods.

“You’re a monster just like him, and you all need to be put down.” Burr growled,  his gun pointed at MG. Your eyes widened as he was turned to stone.

“Yes!” Your mothers cheered as they saw Burr’s statued form.

///

It was falling dark when all of Triad were defeated.

Yet there was no sign of Hope as you stood in the doorway of Lizzie and Josie’s room.

“I’m going after Hope and Landon... I need to make sure they’re okay.” You stated, making Alaric frown as you walked over to his office.

“Y/n, you don’t know where they are-”

“If I focus hard enough, I can find the person, regardless on known environment. I’ll find them, trust me, please.”

“She’s going after Hope.” “What do you expect, Mary-Lou, with Lock gone, Hope is all Y/n has left since she’s not very close to the twins anymore.” Nora chuckled.

“Okay, but I have to address everyone-”

“I know about the anti-magic fountain and all that, I get why you had it but I don’t think everyone else will.  There’s no time, I need to go.” You stated, Alaric just nodded as he headed towards the assembly hall and you headed out of the school.

///

Your teleporting had led you to outside of Triad as you stormed their castle, casting spells to dodge any Triad agents still lurking and knocking them out if neccessary.

You were barely inside when you saw a bright light glow from the other end of the compound, making you swear under your breath as you sped up your running.

“What the hell was that?” (Mary-Louise) “No idea but what is taking Y/n so long to find Handon?”  (B/m/n) “Handon?” (Nora) “Hope and Landon... ship name, like you two are Noralise?” (B/m/n) “Okay...” Nora replied with wide eyes of confusion.

///

“But nothing’s ever immortal, nature won’t allow it, there’s always a loophole.” You could hear Hope’s voice but not find where she was as you hurried up. It was like your angel side was on overdrive trying to help you find them both.

The closer you were getting to the pit, the more bodies you were finding. You didn’t know it at the time but the Headless Horseman had killed them all.

“This is the part where you tell me you wish you could change my mind even though I’m doing the right thing.” Hope cried into the phone as Alaric fell silent.

“Hope, Y/n’s coming to get you and Landon.” Alaric finally said.

“She won’t get here in time. This is the part where you tell me you’re proud of me.”

“You know I’m proud of you. You know it. What is it you need me to do?” Alaric asked, a tear running down his face.

///

You’d barely slammed the door open when you saw them.

Hope and Clarke.

About to jump into the pit.

“HOPE!” Your voice travelled as you ran in, but it was too late. Hope’s eyes widened as she spotted you before Clarke obscured her vision and everything went black as they both landed in the pit.

You didn’t expect to trip and fall to the ground as the memory wipe occurred.

“Did she just trip and fall?” “I’m almost shocked she didn’t fall in the pit from falling over her own feet.” “Girls... look...” Mary-Louise stated, gesturing at the ongoing scene.

When you pushed yourself up, Landon was awake, dusty but awake, staring down at something that made you blood run cold.

The pit was gone. Empty. Just a massive crevice where it once was.

“Y/n?” Landon’s voice was hesistant but you ignored him as he hung up the phone, focusing on your hand with your ring on. Once clear quartz crystals were now dark as the night outside.

“Who the hell is Hope?”

I’ll Never Give Up Hope

[let-me-write-shit]

Like We Used To: 1

A/N : Okay, so this is my first story after taking an almost ten year hiatus. Bare with me while I get the hang of things. Feel free to message me with input. Hope you enjoy so far. --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

CHAPTER ONE

This day could have gone a lot worse. Granted, it’s only 11 AM. All week the weather forecast called for rainstorms, but so far there was not a single cloud in the sky. In fact, it’s warmer than it should be for a late Friday, September morning. ‘Lucky,’ Elizabeth thought, straightening out her long, blush dress in the mirror. Rain doesn’t dry well on silk. 

She looked at her three friends, Celeste, Daisy, and Heather, in the reflection of the mirror as they put on their bridesmaids dresses, and smiled. She always knew this day would come, and leading up to it felt like an eternity. But now that it’s here she felt like time had slipped away from her.  Elizabeth had been best friends with Kate Barnes since they were twelve years old, and met Lewis, Matt, and Celeste two years later. It was painfully obvious that Kate and Lewis loved each other, yet it still took them a whole two years to start officially dating. They were pros at taking it slow. Now, nearly twelve years later, the two were finally getting married. 

Elizabeth admired her best friends’ relationship with each other. There was never any doubt or uncertainty between them. Lewis was it for her; always was. They were perfect for each other. And the couple’s ability to hold onto friendships with ease seemed like a super power. Half of the wedding party and guests were grade school friends. Okay, Kate’s sister, Heather, doesn’t count. Elizabeth recalled old memories of long nights spent with the (almost) newlyweds, Celeste, Jimmy, Matt, and Harry. 

Her heart skipped a beat, almost as if she scared herself. She hadn’t meant to remind herself of Harry Styles. They met him at the same time as the others, but he had long since left their friend group. He was famous now, after all. Elizabeth would occasionally find herself thinking of Harry. It was hard not to when you heard him on the radio or saw him on the internet at least twice a week. Most of their teenage years were spent together before graduation when his fame really kicked off. Still, she found herself wondering if he even remembered that she had existed. They lost touch pretty quickly, which always struck a nerve with Elizabeth. How can you go from seeing someone almost daily, to no contact at all, so easily? The last few months of high school felt surreal. Lewis was the only one whom Harry seldom kept in contact with, and even that began to dwindle. Losing a major part of your friend group so abruptly almost felt like a family member had died; it was just off. At least, that is, until their group had met Daisy, Edward, and Owen in college. 

The seven friends considered themselves family. Their college friends were aware of the ‘Lost Boy’, as they liked to refer to Harry as. Seeing their old pictures together amused the bunch. But if they were being honest, everyone made it a point to not mention Harry when reveling in old times. It was apparent amongst the group that Elizabeth still bore a sort of resentment towards their old famous friend for the way he left. Understandably. However, there was some speculation of a relationship between Elizabeth and the Lost Boy that teetered over the line of ‘more than friends’. Of course there was friendly flirting amongst the friends, but what horny teenager didn’t?

“Need help with that?” Heather whispered, slipping Elizabeth’s diamond bracelet out of her fingers and clasping it around her wrist.

“Thanks,” Elizabeth breathed, snapping out of it and turning, motioning towards the room, “Can you believe it? It’s finally happening.”

Heather nodded, “I know. Seems like yesterday you, Celeste, and Kate were stealing my tampons and asking me advice about boys. Now you’re all grown up and my baby sister is getting married. When did that happen?”

“I must have been sleeping,” a small hiccup escaped as she tried to hold back her emotions.

Heather squeezed Elizabeth’s arm and gave an understanding smile before saying, “I just got word from the boys that the house is all ready for our arrival tonight. So once the guests leave we’ll tidy up and meet Kate, Lewis, and the boys there.”

“Perfect.”

Leave it to Kate and Lewis to make a big event into an even bigger event; they decided to show their appreciation to the wedding party by throwing a weekend long celebration of their nuptials by renting out a ten bedroom manor in the countryside close to the venue so they can all party together before the newlyweds leave on their honeymoon on Monday. 

“Okay, ladies!” Mrs. Barnes, Kate’s mother, sang. “Are we ready to see the bride in her dress?”

The room filled with various forms of yelps as Heather, Elizabeth, Celeste, and Daisy gathered together. Joyce, Heather’s five year old daughter, put her basket of flowers down and ran over to her grandmother, tugging at her dress and asking. “Is Aunt Kate coming in now?” 

The photographer got into position. When the crystal doorknob started turning the camera shutter started and the girls gasped and awed when Kate glided into the room. Her off-the-shoulder satin gown hugged her small figure perfectly while her blonde hair curled into a loose bun, with little strands of hair framing her face. She spun for them, smiling and laughing. Elizabeth bounced on the heels of her feet, clasping her hands together and bringing them to her mouth, taking everything in as Kate hugged everyone.

“Awe, Lizzy!” Kate pouted through her smile, wiping a stray tear from Elizabeth’s cheek. Only her grade school friends called her Lizzy. “Don’t cry, you’ll ruin your mascara.”

Elizabeth managed to chuckle through a sniffle and hugged her best friend, “You look beautiful, love.”

Kate squeezed back and breathed “Thank you.” After a minute the two pulled apart and Kate looked Elizabeth up and down with a smirk, “and you look absolutely stunning! If I wasn’t a taken woman I’d ravish you up!” Kate flicked the low hanging cowl in the neckline of Elizabeth’s silk, blush pink, figure forming dress. Even Elizabeth had to admit, this dress was quite sexy.

Elizabeth snorted as Celeste, Daisy, and Heather danced over with extra glasses of mimosas and called for last minute touch-ups before they headed downstairs to the limos that waited to take them to the wedding venue.

The venue was breathtaking, and luckily for the bride, could be held outside, in the back gardens of an old manor. When the limo pulled up the soft sound of violins could be heard as guests finished getting to their seats and the wedding planner got on the walky-talky to inform of their arrival and to have the men make their way down the aisle.

“You ready?” Elizabeth squeezed Kate’s hand as they all made their way in through the manor. The top of the guests’ heads were barely visible from where they stood as they were seated so far down the lawn in the garden. 

Kate looked at Elizabeth, nervously, and took a deep breath, “No turning back now, eh, Lizzy?”

Elizabeth grinned and pecked Kate’s cheek before Kate’s dad joined them and took his daughter into his arms. The tune of the violins changed signaling the start of the processional and the wedding planner motions for Daisy to start making her way out. Elizabeth’s nerves grew as Celeste followed shortly after.

She tousled her mousy brown loose curls once more, gripped on tightly to her bouquet with her clammy hands, and took a deep breath as the wedding planner motioned her forward. As soon as Elizabeth stepped outside onto the cobblestone she heard the shutter from the cameras and forced a smile, looking all the way down the lawn at the rows of guests. She spotted a few people that she knew and loosened up. Elizabeth felt the crunch below her heels as the cobblestone turned to a white gravel. Lewis wrung his fingers together, anxiously, and tugged at his navy blue suit. She couldn’t help but smile wider, remembering that her two best friends were getting married to each other. When Elizabeth and Lewis caught eyes she winked at him and nodded, reassuringly, which seemed to make him ease up a bit. Jimmy, or JJ they liked to call him, Lewis’ best man, seemed to notice the exchange and patted Lewis on the back before grinning at Elizabeth.

She looked amongst the guests as she slowly made her way up the aisle, smiling at people she knew and whispering ‘hey’ as she passed. She looked to her right, a few rows up, noticing one of Kate’s cousins, when a gleam from a ring caught her eye. The owner was spinning the one of many rings around his finger, almost nervously, but when she looked up at his face there was no sign of nerves. In fact, he seemed to be quite delighted. He dressed in mainly black, which seemed odd for the occasion, but he somehow managed to make it look lively with his curly brown hair and soft green eyes. They caught eyes with each other. The left side of his lips curled upwards into a lopsided grin and he blinked, nodding at her in recognition, and, was that…...eagerness?

Elizabeth felt her throat tense up and she was almost certain that her expression was anything but appealing as her attention shot forward, avoiding his gaze. Harry Styles was here. Why the hell didn’t anyone warn her?

[Keep Reading]

[sif-the-tsunami]

Ropes and Roses part 4

Summary: Elizabeth Rosehill is a talented dance instructor and a force of nature that beguiles her famous student. Events in her life, however, have led her to search for more creative ways for her to keep herself afloat. What will she do to keep her dreams secure and what will it mean for her blossoming relationship. This is a very adult story about two people who are moderately terrible at adulting.

Warning: Fem! Dom/ Fem! Sub, Bisexual shenanigans, anal play, squirting, BDSM, crying, two people who are literal disasters trying to figure things out, Mentions of cheating, exhibitionism

Word count: 3300 and some change. This update is THICC

A/N: If you read it and like it, it would mean a lot to me if you could say something nice!

The next morning, Elizabeth woke up to the snuffling and snorting of one very bear like dog. He also might have stuck his cold nose right in her face a couple times. The room was unfamiliar, it took her a few moments to put together the pieces of the night before. Henry had put her in the soft flannel shirt he was wearing yesterday, but she didn’t remember that happening. The water and Tylenol were consumed, she looked around the room for a moment.  Her boots from the night before were sitting near the bedside table, placed together. Her dress and other personal affects were sitting on the empty space on the other side of the bed. The air was chilly but her bed was welcoming and warm. She didn’t think that this was his bedroom. Soon Kal was running back and forth between the bedroom and somewhere out in the living room.

Two soft knocks on the open door drew her attention the big man in the frame. “Good morning.”

“Morning,” Her normally luscious voice sounded small.

“How did you sleep?”

“Well enough I suppose. Thank you for the water bottle. How did you sleep?”

“I slept well.” He watched her scoot over a little in the bed, and pat the warm spot she had vacated for him.

“Lizzie, I don’t know. I...”

“It’s okay.” She tucked the blanket back up to her neck. “It is just cold and I wanted to talk to you about last night.”

“We don’t have to, we were drunk and having a good time. Two friends having a very… friendly… you know, make out session. Is there anything to talk about it?” He cringed just thinking about it. What the hell, Henry? He thought to himself.

“What? Oh, I guess not, is there.” Her voice cracked, she coughed to clear it. “Um, if you don’t mind giving me a moment, I guess I’ll just get dressed, and let you get back to your day.”

Henry closed the door to give her some privacy and swore under his breath. Kal whined at the door. He look up at his dad then put his nose right and the door again. He pawed at it a couple times, then very dejectedly laid down. A few moments later, she emerged, everything thrown back together, hair in a sloppy bun. She kept her eyes down and handed the flannel shirt to him.  

“Elizabeth, wait, I didn’t mean it like that.” She looked at him for a moment, all of the joy he worked so hard to bring her last night, that beautifully contented smile she had when she saw him this morning, was gone.

“I’m sure you didn’t, it’s fine.” And with that she left.

****

Later in the afternoon, Kal was resting his head on Henry’s lap when the pup let out a long low whine. He put his book down, “I know mate, I messed up. Do you think I should text her?”

Kal started wagging his tail. “I really should have cuddled with her this morning. Okay, Henry, we can do this, you like her a lot. She clearly liked you until you fucking blew it this morning. 

I’m a fucking idiot and I’m sorry

I hurt you and I would give anything to take that back. You said you didn’t know what you can give me, but I know what I am capable and wanting to give you.

I want to take you on a real date. Would you be be interested in joining me for dinner this Friday?

A couple hours later Elizabeth responded with Thank you for apologizing. I already have something going on Friday evening, I could make time for lunch, if not, I don’t have a free night until the following Thursday after my last class.

“I don’t think she has forgiven me,” Henry was then doing his dishes, Kal laying down in front of the refrigerator. “But she did say yes!”

Kal wagged his head and picked his head up.

Lunch works! What time would you like me to pick you up? He hammered out all of the details with the one he longed for. He sat down to eat an early dinner when Henry heard his phone vibrate again. It was Jeremy.

Hey, Jillian told me about you and your girl going out last night. I need to show you something, it’s important. Get cleaned up and ready to go, I’ll be there in an hour. Dress like you give a fuck.

His friend’s husband was not someone that weighs on other people’s choices, he honestly had mostly been indifferent to Henry and Jillian’s entire friendship, enough so that the text in itself caught him off guard. He showered quickly, put on a black suit with a light gray button up.

“Kal, be a good lad. Hopefully daddy isn’t over dressed.”

Jeremy said little on the way to their destination. It made his passenger a little anxious. They soon were in a dark district of the city, when businesses close for the day it usually was deserted. One dark building front had two men standing in front of it, and a flickering Edison style light bulb. Jeremy gave the man who approached their car a shiny black card, the logo read The Fox Catcher. Soon the doors were opened for them and one of the men outside was valet parking the car. Inside a large gentleman was standing there. He looked like he could crush the skull of anyone who would dare to start trouble.

In a deep Nordic baritone he said “Gentlemen, please grab a mask. The show will begin soon.”

After they had put on ill fitting masks that covered half of their faces, Henry and Jeremy were sat down at a small cocktail table by a woman with impossibly red hair hair that came down to her waist. She wore a tight black leather dress and knee high boots that made her pale skin look like porcelain.  The room was lit dimly enough that he had a hard time seeing the other people but the heat and buzz in the room let him know they were not alone.

Henry tried to make himself as comfortable as possible. Jeremy looked like he was seething with resentment and hostility. They were sitting close to where the performance would be taking place. Henry tugged nervously at his shirt collar.

“Why are we here?”

“You’ll see...” was all Jeremy said.

The light from above the stage clicked on revealed some wooden furniture. A platinum blonde was then lead out onto the stage by what Henry realized was a leash attached to nipple clamps. The man who brought her out was wearing a black mask and dark clothes attached the arms of the blonde woman to a large wooden X in the middle of the stage with her back to the audience. She was only wearing a black thong, but hers was the only face visible. Her skin was pale enough that the light above seemed to bounce off of her.  Soon came a clacking on the wooden stage floor. The unmistakable sound of high heels walking with authority came echoing out and the room fell silent. Out came a petite woman, long hair pulled back into a pony tail, wearing a leather mask with two cat ears on the top, tight pants, a suit jacket and a silver sparkly bralette under. She had blood red lipstick applied perfectly.  The stage was high enough that Henry saw the boots she was wearing as she strut out from the back.  

They looked a lot like the ones he put next to Elizabeth this morning. He bit the inside of his lip then looked over at Jeremy. His eyes were transfixed on the woman in the cat mask.  “Mate, I promise this is for your own good.”

“Good evening, Mistress Bettie.” The restrained woman said. She adjusted herself a little. A slight shuffle that caused the metal of her attachments to clink together softly.

“Good evening. I have been informed that you have been a very naughty vixen, is that right?” He knew that voice. Henry’s guts churned.

No, no, no, no. Please. He thought, his mind was screaming at him to leave. He kept looking over at Jeremy, the hatred he had on his face a moment earlier was turning into a look of smug satisfaction.

“Yes, Mistress.”

“And what do I do to naughty vixens, my darling?”

“You punish them, Mistress.”

“That’s right, so what do you think I’m going to do to you tonight?”

“You are going to punish this naughty vixen, Mistress.”

“Are you ready?”

“Yes, Mistress.”

There was a table next to the tableau, the Mistress picked up a leather paddle and softly pat her open hand with it. She set is down, then picked up a nasty looking leather tool that he didn’t know the name of, she swung it around a little bit, letting the tendrils of leather make whistling noises as it went back and forth. She hit her own thigh intentionally, making a loud thud. The blonde jumped. Lastly she picked up a whip that would make Indiana jealous. Walking to the farthest part of the stage, the domina made the whip crack to either side of blonde woman. She flinched and jumped away each time. The whip was placed down.

“That had better be the last time you move around like that, vixen, or I’ll give you a reason to squirm.”

“Yes Mistress, I’ll be better, Mistress.”

“I think I need to warm you up first, don’t you agree?” Henry watcher her put on some black medical gloves and then proceed to start spanking the bottom of woman tied up. The receiver squealed and moaned. Her pristine flesh turning a hot pink after a couple a good swats. The Domme reached between her captives legs and spanked her thighs. Higher and higher she went until she landed a slap on the cotton covered center point, but gave her a tender rub after. “You liked that, didn’t you? Such a good slut.”

“Yes, thank you Mistress,” her gratitude melted into a moan as she arched her back into the generous hands of her captor.

“Just so our friends are all clear, my beautiful vixen, what is your safe word?” Still massaging the blonde’s sex through the cotton fabric.

“Milkshake, Mistress.” She gasped as the black gloved hands found their way inside.

“Thank you, pet.” She pulled her hand away and had the blonde lick her gloved fingers clean. Henry watched the two of them share a tender moment before the Domme walked away. She then grabbed the  tool he didn’t know about. “Oh no, my little vixen, you are missing something.”

The Domme grabbed a faux fur fox tail off of the table. With the flick of a switch it started vibrating aggressively enough that Henry could hear it from where he was sitting. That poor girl was going to be in for it. He had a mixture of emotions coursing through his mind. He held onto the last shred of doubt that maybe Elizabeth had a doppelganger.

“I think these need to come off first.” and she ripped off the black thong. The Dominatrix ran the plug against the delicious folds of her captive, getting as much of her arousal on it as possible. The plug was inserted, the blonde started moaning and her knees buckled. She smiled at the ashen haired woman, letting her enjoy the moment and then clicked off the remote. “Remember, my darling, you can’t come without my permission.”

The submissive let out a groan and stomped her feet. Then the Dominatrix grabbed the heavy leather flogger and swung it around the blonde artfully. Sometimes it was just the tips dancing across the reddening skin, there were times it was a heavy sounding thud. As uncomfortable as this was making him, however, he couldn’t help but notice that the woman receiving was clearly enjoying herself. She arched her back, moaned and gasped in bliss. The Dominatrix gestured to the man on the stage and he unlocked her just long enough to turn her around. He gave her arms a little rub to get the blood flow back as the suit jacket came off of Mistress Bettie. There is was, plain as day. The roses on her torso that he had become more acquainted with the night before.  He closed his eyes for a moment as a wave of anxiety washed over him. He was not supposed to be here, to see this side of her yet. But there she was in front of him. She looked powerfully sexy.

As soon as she the vixen was situated, Elizabeth turned the vibrator back on and started flogging the fronts of her thighs, her breasts and pubic mound. She was clearly very aroused, her body was glistening and her nipples protruded proudly from where they were. The dominant woman placed the flogger down and came up to her submissive, she ran her hands all over her body. She gave the vixen’s nipples some much needed attention and then slide one, two then three fingers inside of her.

“Do you think you deserve to come, naughty girl.” Elizabeth’s hand started moving faster, coaxing her climax out of her soaking wet pussy.

“Yes please, Mistress.”

“Then tell me what you are.”

“I’m a slut, Mistress, a fucking slut.” Her breath was as shaky as her legs

“Who’s slut?”

“Your slut, Mistress.” The woman’s eyes were rolling to back of her head in pleasure

“Then come for your Mistress you fucking whore. Good girl” Elizabeth smiled at her as the sub came loudly all over her hand and proceeded to squirt. Flicking the fluid at the blissful woman, she playfully scolded the vixen “Look at the mess you’ve made.”

The man in black helped her down and the woman got on her hands and knees before Elizabeth. “So now, pet. You can get to chose your next punishment. We can either play the counting game, or we can play the clothes clip game.”

Still panting, “the counting game, Mistress, please.”

“Alright, catch your breath my dearest,” Elizabeth grabbed a stool. The blonde positioned herself leaning across it, she was facing Henry and Jeremy at this point. She wiggled her fingers in a little hello at them both and settled in. “Last time, we made it to what was it eight? Alright, my vixen, make me proud.”

“Yes Mistress.” Elizabeth turned the vibrator up a little, flipped the tail up her back, and spanked the sub’s bottom. “One, thank you Mistress, may I have another.”

Another very loud thud. “Two, Thank you Mistress, may I have another.”

After six, Henry realized that this was less pleasurable for the blonde than the flogging had been. Tears were running down her face. Elizabeth leaned down and licked one of the tears from her face. She looked down for a second and saw the man sitting in the front. She stopped dead in her tracks.

She mouthed his name, he nodded slightly and she then whispered something into the blonde’s ear. One last spank and suddenly the unnamed vixen burst out her safe word as loudly as she could and started openly crying.

“Oh no, my poor sweet girl.” She gently rubbed the subs bottom, Elizabeth then draped her suit jacket on the back of her plaything, she turned and looked at Henry one last time. “I think I’ve hit her limit tonight. Good night.”

The man in black rushed forward and covered the backs of the women like the proper body guard he was, escorting the women off the stage. Henry then turned to the man who brought him and hissed through his teeth “What the actual fuck was the point of you bringing me here?”

“What, you should be thanking me! I exposed her for the snake in the grass that she is!”

Henry walked away angrily. The room was emptying out as quietly as they had come in, although they could tell that some of the clients were giving the cocktail waitresses a hard time about the show being cut short. The redhead that took care of them that evening was being harassed by an older man. Henry told him off and handed her two of the largest bills that he had on him. He pulled his phone out and messaged Elizabeth. I have really fucked up your whole day, haven’t I? Please call me, I’m worried about you.

“You selfish fucking cunt. I am trying my hardest to not wreck this poor woman’s life more than I have and you decide that this is what you want to do?” Henry was trying to keep himself from yelling. “I like her, a lot. A whole lot. She is the nicest person I have ever met and what part of any of what we just saw would make you think that I would like her less?”

“She’s a whore!” Jeremy yelled.

“And? What is your problem with sex workers? I fucking whore myself for every damn role I do. At least she’s more honest about it! The shit I put myself through is no worse than anything that happened on that stage. Does your wife know about this?”

“No, and you wouldn’t dare!”

“You have until tomorrow night to tell her that you come to clubs like this or I swear to god, I will.” He had never been so riled up before. It was taking everything to not rip the smaller, balding man apart piece by piece. “This would devastate her, and you know it.���

“Gentlemen, I need you to calm down.” The large Nordic man said calmly. Henry adjusted his suit jacked when he felt his pocket vibrate.

I’ll be out in a moment, wait for me?

Of course

As they walked outside, Jeremy started up again. Fortunately this time they were alone. The valet driver’s were getting his car as quickly as they could. “You can’t turn a woman like that into a housewife, Henry. You saw that she very clearly enjoyed playing with another girl. What will you do if she starts craving pussy? I am not okay with you seeing this bird. She will destroy you, Henry. We were all there after your last big break up. This one will be the worst of all of them. I can see it already.”

“Jeremy, I’ve know her for a few weeks at this point. After this, I wouldn’t blame her if she never wanted to speak to me again. And I probably don’t deserve to. But you do not get to make that call.”

Elizabeth watched from the door way as they yelled at each other.

“She’s literally a whore, she gets paid a lot of money to fuck people. What if she has private clients the same way she took on private dance lessons with you? How many people do you think she’s sleeping with?”

“Firstly, it is none of your business who I’m sleeping with. Secondly, I don’t do private shows, you know that, you asked me for one several time. Each time I said no.” She put her foot down. Henry reached out for her, and she leaned into him.

“Jeremy, I think you should leave. I will make my own way home.”

“You expect me to leave you here… with her?”

“Yes, and you had better tell Jillian or I will.” Henry snarled, protectively hugging Elizabeth. He turned to her and softly said “I’m so sorry.”

“Wait he’s married? And he’s calling me a whore? Hey, fuck you, Jeremy!” She snarled at the man getting into his car. “Well today has been a cluster fuck.”

“That is putting it mildly. Please come home with me, I want to make up for this morning and for surprising you like this, I’ll bring you breakfast in bed, we can do whatever you want.”

The woman smiled gently at him and shushed him with a kiss. “I would like that, but I would love to sleep in my own bed tonight. My place isn’t as nice as yours but you are welcome to be there with me tonight.”

“I would like that a lot.”

[johnismyreason]

Kill them with kindness // Bonnie Gold x ShelbySister!Reader

Request from @niamhshell​: HELLO this is going to be weird I had a dream I was married to bonnie and was a shelby sister and after Bonnie's death I just went off on the shelby family and it been in my head for weeks could you possibly do a piece based around this I dont really mind how it ends if the reader forgives them or stays mad at them  I just need it out of my head. 

This is quite short but I hope you’ll still like it ! 

Warnings: fluff, a loooot of angst and sadness, mourning, mentions of death, guns, curse words. 

Feedbacks are always welcomed ! :) Also, send an ask if you want to be in the permanent Peaky Blinders list 

MASTERLIST

When I met Bonnie, he was this strange and shy kid who just wanted to box. Tommy introduced me to him at one of his training. He barely looked me in the eyes, but it intrigued me. A few days later I went back — alone this time — to the gym he was practicing at. He was alone too, hitting on a punching bag. The knocks echoed in the big empty room. Bonnie was so focused he didn’t hear me. Or at least that’s what I thought. 

“Hello Bonnie”. He turned around suddenly. “Sorry I didn’t want to scare you”

“You didn’t” he replied, catching back his breath. “I heard your high heels clicking on the floor. I knew it was you” 

“How ?” 

“I remember the sound of your walk from the other day. It’s light like a ballerina but determined like a soldier.” I didn’t expect that at all. I never thought I made such an impression on him, that he remembers the sound of my feet on the ground. While I remained speechless, he drank water and got closer to me. “Why are you here ?” 

“I- um... I wanted to see you” I admitted. He blinked and raised his eyebrows. 

“Really ?” he sighed “I thought you wouldn’t even remember my name” he chuckled. 

“Why would I not remember your name ?” 

“I didn’t think a girl like you would care enough about me to remember what’s my name”. Once again I was caught out of guard by his honesty. My heart melted in an instant. 

“Well, I do.” was all I could answer back. He laughed softly taking a step even closer, his now steady breath hitting my face. “I, uh” I cleared my throat “I was thinking that, maybe, um, you would want to go on a date... with me ?” I was so nervous. Usually, men asked me to spend some time with me. But I knew that Bonnie would never ask me. He was too shy. His eyes went wider and his cheeks rosier. He played with his hands hidden in his boxing gloves. 

“Yes, of course !” he replied half intimidated, half excited. I nodded and kissed me rapidly on his cheek.  I didn’t really see his reaction but from what I know of the rest of our story, I can clearly picture his surprised and cute face. 

We went on our date two days later. We ate, we drank, we laughed, we danced, we stared at each other eyes without saying a word. We kissed. Well, I kissed him first. As well as I took his hand first, took his clothes off first, said ‘I love you’ first. But I didn’t mind, because he asked ‘do you want to marry me ?’ first. 

There was no one in this world I loved more than Bonnie. So when he died, I died too. Bonnie used to work with his father for Tommy. When they murdered him, it was on Tommy’s fault. Him and his secrets. His plans that he’s always hiding from us. His fault. I hated him. I went away for a few days after his death, I didn’t want to here anything from Tommy or any of my brother, my family, the goddamn Peaky Blinders. No one. Then I went back. 

I drove to Tommy’s mansion and when I arrived I saw everyone’s car. Polly’s, Arthur’s, Ada’s,... everyone. I got out of the car, gun in my hand. I don’t know what I was thinking. The house was silent, they were all in the backyard. I walked slowly towards them, my heels knocking purposely a little louder than usual on the cold floor. The ballerina was gone. I could only hear my shaky breath resonating in the long corridor as I got closer to the daylight. When I arrived outside, everyone had heard me coming and was looking at me. 

Polly had already tears in her eyes but was relieved to see me. Ada stopped breathing. Arthur was holding Linda’s hand tightly. John was... gone. I’m always surprised by his absence. Finn was looking at everyone, very confused. Lizzie was smocking a cigarette and was the only looking at Tom. Tom. I didn’t realise it but tears were running down my cheeks and my whole body was boiling out of anger. 

“Y/N...” Thomas broke the heavy silence. I held my gun towards his face and everybody gasped. He didn’t move a bit. “I’m sorry”

“Bullshit” I spat. “You just a fucking liar who took everything from me”

“You still have your family” he replied

“What family ?! I only had one and it was him but you ripped him out of me !” my hand that was holding the gun was shaking and I cried some more. 

“Then why are you back, Y/N ?” he asked, voice so steady that it was disturbing. 

“I don’t know...” I realised “I fucking don’t know... Revenge ? Maybe... Or I just wanted to tell you that you’re the worst person on earth. That you deserve nothing.” He sighed and looked down. “I know you don’t sleep at night Tommy. I know it. You keep your fucking secrets in your head and you lie to us. You look at us straight in our eyes, and you lie. You deserve not sleeping and going out of your fucking mind.”

“Y/N-” Lizzie started 

“Don’t.” I pointed my gun towards her but went back to Thomas. I walked towards him and put the pistol on his head. Our faces were a few inches away, so we both look into each others eyes. That’s when I saw it. Regret. It manifested by a new shade of blue in his iris that I’ve never seen before. 

“I will never forgive you Tom. But I will learn to live with it, eventually. Will you, though ? Go to bed at night knowing you took away the love of your sister’s life and Abraham’s son. Will you ?!” I cried out, my cheeks drenched by the salty pearls. 

“No.” he whispered. “No, Y/N, I won’t.” he put his hand on yours, the one that was still holding the gun on his head. He placed his index finger on top of mine that was on the trigger. “Pull it.” he ordered. “Pull it, Y/N, and I’m gone, forever. You will never see me again and you will have your revenge. Pull it.” I couldn’t believer what he was asking. My breath was panting, shaky. “Please...” Tom begged. I was so angry at him, I could really put that bullet in his head. But instead I put my gun down. 

Leaning my lips next to his ear, I whispered “Death is a kindness, uh ? So I’ll let you live.” I turned around and walked out this hell. There was my revenge. Letting life to be his torture so he asks death to be kind to him.

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