#and besides shes good company “ and just my brother in christ that is called making a friend and having a friend

[box-dwelling]

Sometimes a ship post is just a vent post but hear me out:

Astarion thinking he's being manipulative when he isn't.

Like hes really genuinely upset about something that is of like minor inconvenience to Wyll. Blood drinking is a great example.

He's absolutely starving but he doesn't want to admit it and A) admit weakness or B) risk being viewed as too dangerous to have around because he's hungry. So he's just suffering in silence for a while until some how wyll notices what's up, gets him to admit he's hungry and then immediately offers to let him feed. Just because of basic and kindness it doesn't even have to be at the love stage yet, though this would absolutely probably persist past it.

But in his brain he just can't comprehend someone actually showing him compassion or kindness? Even wyll? So even though he did absolutely nothing manipulative just admitted to his needs he convinces himself that he is just such a master of manipulation he doesn't even have to try.

[dimmadoome]

The Black Creek Diner

For: anonymous

Prompt: New waitress in northkill Laura and oh Travis just really likes the food there trust me guys TRUST ME ( Kaylee Chris are with him when he first sees her and they know he���s gonna be a goner )

Pairing: Travis Hackett/Laura Kearney

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The first time Travis ate at the Black Creek diner, he didn't think much of it. The food was mediocre at best and the atmosphere was bland and boring.

At least the coffee was good.

Black Creek resembled any other backwoods diner he had ever entered. The one difference between Black Creek and any other diner was the frequent patronage of his brother and the presence of their new waitress.

He shoulda known what was happening the second Chris rode up with his kids and a sparkle in his eye, begging Travis to go with them and "be a family for once in your life Trav."

A step into the diner and Travis was acosted with three things at once.

First, the diner smelled like burning grease.

Second, Mr. Bronson was making a fool of himself again.

And third, the absolute knockout of a waitress he was trying to yell at was having none of his shit.

Waiving Chris and the kids into a booth, he made his way over to the source of the commotion.

God damnit its his day off too.

Travis has had plenty of experience dealing with John Bronson. The man was loud, disgusting and drunk 90 percent of the time. He's spent enough time locked up in the station that Travis probably knew his whole life story by now.

"What seems to be the problem here?" Travis wore his role as north kill sheriff well. He knew he could act as stern and hardass as any of em. Today was just one of the days he didn't want to have to do it.

Travis towered behind the waitress. Glowering over the top of her head to scare the man in the booth.

"You know you ain't supposed to be causing trouble John"

He could feel the woman stiffen at his proximity. From the corner of his eye, he watched her turn and gape at him.

The drunk bastard paled. Even had the audacity to look at the waitress he was just harassing for help. As if help was going to come from her after all his bullshit.

"Sheriff Hackett I was just.."

He held up his hand to stop the man from continuing his excuses. Earning a huff of amusement from the woman standing beside him.

God n everybody knew what he was "just" doing. Travis wasn't gonna have it today.

"I don't want to hear your excuses John. Get outta here before I throw you in the cells for a cool down. Don't make me have to do my job today"

Travis watched as the portly man pulled himself from the booth to stumble home. Pulling the man back. He looked him dead in the eye to deliver his next line, making damn sure the man heard him.

"And for the love of christ John. Pay for your meal and call your sister to come pick you up."

He released John and stood back. Raising an eyebrow to show that he was dead serious. the man probably sensed how done Travis was with him because he nodded, red-faced and shamed.

"Sure thing Sheriff"

Travis wanted to make damn sure that waitress wasn't going to get harassed more. So he stood with her until John finally opened the door to leave.

Well...he might also have some ulterior motives by keeping her company.

"You didn't have to do that" The waitress moved to stand in front of him. Peering up at him with a wry grin on her face.

Beautiful blue eyes danced with mirth. He couldn't help but feel enchanted by her. Travis fought the urge to reach down and tug at a stray piece of her hair while she was talking. He wished he could feel the silky golden locks tangle through his fingers as he played with it.

Shaking his head to clear the fantasies from them, Travis turned his attention back to her. He fixed her with his best smile.

Hoping she didn't notice his absentmindedness.

"Well miss ......" Travis trailed off. He didn't know her name.

He looked down to read the name tag pinned to her chest and caught himself looking a little to hard at parts that weren't a nametag. Feeling the sting of mortification, he blushed.

He shot his eyes back up to hers quickly. Travis coughed, really hoping she didn't notice where his gaze went.

It'd be just his luck to scare away the prettiest girl hed ever seen by accidentally being a pervert.

When he caught Laura's eye. He knew he'd been had. The twinkling in her own blue gaze set the tips of his ears to burn in embarrassment. He rushed to finish his statement. Hoping to go sit down with his family and not cause the poor woman anymore trouble

"I'm just doing my job. The local Sheriff can't be off duty, even when he is."

She smiled a bright, toothy grin at him and waved him off. The swish of her checkered dress at her thighs hypnotized him.

Turning to old Marge behind the counter, Laura leaned over it to speak to the old woman.

"Hey Marge, can we get Sheriff Hackett something on the house?"

"For scaring away John? Absolutely sweetie. Whatever he wants"

"You didn't have to...." Stuttering, Travis finally got himself to moving. He caught the end of the booth his family was in and tried to look nonchalant.

He didn't notice Caleb had been smearing ketchup along the top of it until his hand rested smack dab in the middle of it.

Disgusting.

He must have made a face at the mess because Laura's responding laugh was the most beautiful thing he'd ever heard.

Travis nearly missed grabbing the wet rag she tossed at him.

What a fool. Turned into a nervous wreck at the sight of a beautiful woman.

"Of course I did." Laura took back the rag and waved him into the booth, "Now, sit with your family. I'll be back to take your order"

Travis shakily took the menu from Chris. Catching his brothers eye and narrowing his own in return. He could see the wheels turning in his brothers head

What mischief did Chris have planned?

"You just earned yourself an admirer Trav."

"Shut up man, I was just doin my job"

"Miss Laura never thanks anyone for helping her out. You're the first....ever"

Travis just about reached over to smack Chris with the menu. Luckily for Chris, his children were present and Ma taught him better than that.

he still really wants to do it.

It was then that little Kaylee started screaming about waffles and the whole incident was quickly forgotten.

Travis ended up spending the rest of his meal dodging little fingers covered in syrup and helping Chris contain the mess that his two children were determined to cause.

His brother's little quip about Laura was quickly forgotten in the aftermath of the 2023 pancake apocalypse.

The woman herself wasnt.

The next week. Travis came in alone, hoping to catch a glimpse of the beautiful waitress and knowing he'd chicken out when it came to actually asking her for anything.

The tinkle of the door alerted Marge to his patronage and she waved him over.

Walking up to the counter, he looked around for Laura. Hoping to catch a glimpse of her golden curls or ocean blue eyes.

Unluckily for Travis. He didn't see her. Just old Marge manning the register and snapping at Mickey in the back. He stopped at the seat that would be his usual and adjusted his collar in anticipation. Fidgeting with the too hot uniform was a nervous habit he could never quite break.

He really hoped Laura was here. Maybe she was just somewhere in the back.

Travis jumped as the older woman slapped down a menu and some utensils. Smirking at him with that knowing smirk she's had since he was a wee one clinging to his mothers skirts.

"Laura's on break round back if you want to see her?"

Travis startled visibly. All wish for coffee deserted him in the wake of her cheerful accusation. He felt the tips of his ears burn again and stuttered out a response.

Is he that transparent?

"I don't..... I don't really know her that well Marge." His hand reached back to run through his hair. It was another nervous habit he couldn't seem to break.

The old woman turned to wave him away. Grabbing the coffee pot and setting that and a cup in front of him.

"Just between you and me Travis, she couldn't shut up about you. Every time Chris and the kids come in, she's always asking about you. Take it from me kid, go round back. Give her a holler."

If Travis just happened to miss the woman pull out her phone in his haste to get out the door...well. He can blame it on the poor lighting.

Somewhere in a house down the road, Chris recieved a text from old Marge and cheered.

[wrasslin-lps]

Smackdown! vs Raw: Part 8 - Wrestlemania.

Another cold open, except this time it’s LuLu limping his way to the ring. To his shock, he’s cheered by the honkeys of WWE. They cheer him, and boo when he mentions Eddie, Cena and Vince, and then cheers when he says they couldn’t finish the job. Between this and the Big Show, LuLu has been left rattled. 

LuLu calls out McMahon, who gloats that he expected LuLu to have learned his lesson after the beating on Sunday.

LuLu makes a solemn oath. He will never break - if McMahon wants him gone, then he’ll need to kill LuLu. “You may make my life a living hell, but I swear, I will drag you to hell with me.” And LuLu reveals why he called McMahon out.

McMahon and Cena are shocked, but McMahon laughs it off. He points out that LuLu can barely stand - but LuLu is undeterred. He makes an offer; he beats John Cena here and now, and he faces McMahon at Wrestlemaina. “You’re completely insane” McMahon sneers “But alright, you asked for it!”

The stakes couldn’t be higher!

John Cena is no joke, and with LuLu being injured, he has a hell of a match ahead of him. But as a Babyface, LuLu is determined to fight honourably. And when I say honourably, I mean use Torrie to distract the referee and attack Cena with a weapon.

With a hard earned victory, the next week McMahon announces that he is a man of his word. “Last week I made a gamble that backfired on me, so I’ll be appearing at wrestlemania... in a hell in a cell match." he says, clearly nervous. But he's as bitter as he is nervous, and decides McMahon decides that LuLu will have a tag team match against Chris Benoit and Garrison Cade - but hm, LuLu doesn’t have a tag partner. How about - Trish Stratus!

Backstage, Trish is very worried about the match, since she would be fucked up. LuLu assures her that his goons are after him, not Trish. And besides…

The match mostly goes as you would expect, Benoit and Cade kick the ever loving shit out of LuLu and poor poor Trish. The sitruation is dicey, but my mind whirs like a pc playing Crysis (christ, remember that game? It still runs like shit on most PCs, btw) and I devise a plan.

I was able to figure out how I could win the match despite my weak tag partner - throw her to the wolves. Despite what cutscene LuLu said, LuLu let Benoit and Cade beat the shit out of Trish and then ambushed Cade while Benoit put poor Trish in a crippler crossface to win the match.

After the match, LuLu celebrates with Trish - but hark! Benoit was pretending to be defeated!

He starts kicking the shit out of LuLu… but who runs in to save but LuLu's best friend and brother, the Big Show

Yeah. Yeah it is.

The next week, Vince McMahon grumbles that a certain wrestler dared interfere with the match. Vince gloats that to teach him respect, Show will be forced to- 

In walks Kurt Angle, back from the firing. And even the Boss answers to a higher power…

Kurt fires Benoit and Cena, and declares that since Vince McMahon will be wrestling at Wrestlemania, he loses access to his administrative powers. And in some genuinely glorious schadenfreude, Vince has to wrestle in a handicap match against the Big Show and LuLu.

I really can't communicate how good this feels.

After a brutal beating and a slam to McMahon’s grapefruit, Show and LuLu celebrate in the ring while the commentators muse whether or not McMahon will even survive the Hell In A Cell match... at Wrestlemania!

Backstage, LuLu is chatting with Trish in a manner that for once isn’t deeply unsettling and cringe for once. LuLu makes his intentions clear:

Trish wishes him well, and they hug. LuLu got Trish dragged into his own mess, but brief as their interactions have been, I do find them kind of sweet.

Elsewhere, McMahon is being interviewed before the match. His intentions are just as clear - and he feels that as someone who went from a trailer park to the chairman of billion dollar company, he’s not gonna lose.

“And once it’s over, nobody will say “no” to Vincent Kennedy McMahon!”

The match stays in the ring for about a minute before LuLu leaves to grab some weapons.

LuLu slaps Vince around for about a minute before LuLu decides to take to the sky!

Of course, what comes up…

But while McMahon draws breath, this match isn't over yet!

Wow, after such an astonishing stunt, the match has to be over! And when I say over, I mean they’re on their feet literally 5 seconds later.

But this match really will end with a bang!

And with a final Shattered Dreams…

LuLu wins the match!

After the match, LuLu puts Vince on the table, and climbs up the Cell and hey wait a sec I already did this!!

Yeah it's cooler in the cutscene but I did it twice!!!

This shot does have some power to it though…

Regrettably, Vince is still breathing, but still - a hell of a way to end the year.

LuLu humiliated the bastard CEO, and learned to forgive Yakub's people - while securing his legacy forever. A glorious ending to Season Mode... for Smackdown, at least.

[untaemedqueen]

Third Wheeling

CEO!Yoongi x Reader

Genre: Strangers to Lovers!AU, Angst, Fluff, Smut

Chapter 29.

Warnings (Updating Still): Smut, Cheating, Unexpected Pregnancy, Unfaithful, Emotional Damage, Love

Warnings For This Chapter: Pre-Wedding Jitters, Dirty Talk, Daddy Kink, Fingering, Praise, Lactation Kink, Milk Drinking, Pregnancy Kink, Wife Kink, Glazed Donut!OC

A/N: Today’s chapter is late because I’ve been busy playing New Pokemon Snap... sry. Shout out to @xjoonchildx, @ladyartemesia and @ppersonna because I’d be lost without them.

There are undoubtedly many events in life that make a person nervous -- your first day of high school and college, your first kiss, your first sexual experience, and for some even your first phone call you give to your doctor when you're no longer under your parents protection. But no one -- not a single person, told you how nervous your wedding day is.

Maybe it's the amount of people that are attending. Two hundred is no small number.

Or maybe it's the fact that with your belly sticking out so far you can barely see your feet makes you feel like you'll be judged.

Whatever it is, the feeling fucking sucks.

You've seen so many movies where the woman who is getting married is all laughs and smiles, giving cheers to anyone and everyone because it's her wedding day. But now, you can officially say it's bullshit.

The best part is, it isn't even today, it's tomorrow and you still are frightened to the bone at the thought.

"-And I mean, yeah. Fine. We chose the taupe napkins but who the fuck is Aubrey to say anything, y'know? Like she knows her colors… Evil witch. I swear I don't know how she passed kindergarten!"

Leena's rant drifts through your ears like a soft breeze. You haven't been paying attention for a while, if you're being honest.

"Y/N? Are you listening to me?!" Leena gawks, grabbing her glass of champagne from Taehyung's hand.

Again, you're caught up in your own mind. You play every scenario of how tomorrow will be and they all seem to be terrible ideas.

What if you trip walking down the aisle?

What if your heel snaps on the way up?

What if your water breaks in front of two hundred people?

What if-

A small square of balsamic bruschetta appears in front of your face and your eyes narrow at the piece of bread.

You feel your soon-to-be husband's fingers pushing back some stray hairs behind your ear. "Food for thought?" he quips happily.

He has not had a frown on his face in what seems like forever. You adore it, you really do. But how can he not be nervous? Your heart is practically thrumming out of your chest.

"Open," he whispers.

Reluctantly, you open your mouth for the appetizer. When he leans in, you look back down at your lap.

"I can see your heart racing through the artery in your neck," he murmurs against your ear.

His hand squeezes your knee under the table reassuringly as he pulls away.

Yoongi wants to pry, he wants to ask you what's got you so in your own head but there are a few too many people here for that.

"Noona, you're an amazing cook." Jeongguk whines, grabbing another piece of steak off the platter.

"You're actually disgusting." Jimin breathes, wrinkling his nose at the youngest's third steak.

"I need my meat, that's how I win in the ring. Gets me all big and strong." Guk beams, cutting into the large t-bone.

"That's what she said!" Hoseok and Taehyung chirp at the same time.

You watch as they high five each other with child-like smiles plastered onto their faces.

"Are you tired? Do you want to call it a night?" your fiance inquires softly, turning his whole body towards you so the rest of the room can't hear him.

You would never want to take away from the festivities. It's just that your stupid anxiety is overwhelming. Looking over at your handsome partner, your fingers intertwine with his. He's quick to kiss the back of your hand, searching your eyes for some sort of hint as to why you're so down.

"No. I'm fine. I'm sorry." you reply, giving him a small smile.

His eyes narrow at your smile and he takes a sharp breath through his teeth in confusion.

"Al...right, if you say so." he says unsurely, running your intertwined hands over your belly.

"Y/N!" Leena whines from across the table and this time you give her your full attention.

You need to try and push this anxiousness elsewhere even for a little while. You will not be a horrible host.

"Yes Beena," you inquire, leaning your chin on your hand.

"Did you hear me? Did you hear what Kim Aubrey said about my wedding planning skills?!" she screeches.

You can only snort as all eyes around the table land on you. "I don't know why you indulge her. Isn't she the one that shit her pants in chemistry when she was fifteen?"

Yoongi laughs loudly, throwing his head back and placing his hand on his chest.

"Actually yeah, she sat two rows behind me!" Namjoon chimes in with wide eyes. His nose wrinkles at the sudden memory and you don't blame him as he pushes his plate away in a sudden state of queasiness.

"So I don't suck at wedding planning?" your best friend pouts across the long table to you.

"Absolutely not." you insist, winking at her.

"This wedding is going to be the biggest event of the entire year. Maybe even the biggest event of the next ten years." Anna, Jimin's wife cheers.

Oh.

Good.

Love that.

"Well, I think we just want people to have a good time. We aren't worried about what impact it will have." Yoongi says quickly, caressing his thumb over the back of your hand to calm you down.

He's not dumb. He's figured it out by now, but he'll still want to hear it from your lips later on.

"Yeah right. 'Min Yoongi and his artistically talented fiance WOW people with their show stopping matrimony' is gonna be on the cover of Dispatch in two days." Hoseok murmurs.

"Oh yeah? And you're gonna be the one giving them the hot scoop, then?" Namjoon jeers, pointing his index finger over the lip of his glass of brandy at the handsome man.

Hobi sneers in his direction and Yoongi can only respond with a chuckle.

"My fiance is pretty show stopping." the CEO surmises, leaning back in his chair.

"Please. I'm eating. Christ." Leena groans through a mouthful of pasta.

It is nice to have so many close friends around tonight though. You hope it can distract you long enough for the nervousness brewing and bubbling inside of you to subside.

When conversations begin to break up and become between smaller groups of people, you can feel his eyes on you like a heat source.

"Little dove?" Yoongi coos softly, rubbing your distended side.

You hum to him, turning to give him your full attention.

"Tomorrow is going to be beautiful and perfect." he promises, tilting your chin up with his index finger.

"No, I know. I'm just-"

"Worried." he finishes for you and he's not surprised to see your reluctant nod of agreement.

"I know. I'm nervous too." he admits, kissing your cheek.

"You've already gotten married before," you scoff, allowing his arm to curl around your shoulders.

"Actually I was black out drunk and can't remember a single thing because I was venomously angry with the dumb bitch that ruined my life before you." he replies with a wide smile.

"Oh. Good." you reply, rolling your eyes at his playfulness.

"So this is my first real wedding too. And even though I'm nervous, I'm excited. Because then when the wedding is over and we get to our honeymoon-"

"Uh uh." you gasp, smushing your finger to his lips.

He pouts against your finger, kissing it softly. "What?" he garbles against your digit.

"We have company." you whisper fiercely.

"Didn't stop you a few days ago when you sucked my cock beneath the desk upstairs while I was on a video meeting." he deadpans, pulling your hand away from his face.

"Yoongi!" you gasp, glancing over the table who hasn't heard a single thing.

You'd like to keep it that way.

"I can't wait to fuck your little pregnant cunt as you're Mrs. Min Yoongi." he beams, kissing your temple.

You can feel your cheeks flushing with embarrassment and you can only blame the man beside you for that one.

When you smack his chest out of shame, the noise echoes throughout the room, earning attention from all of the guests.

"Abuse is not nice, Y/N. Do you want to file a lawsuit, Yoongi?" Yoona quips, sticking her tongue out at you.

The CEO chuckles, squeezing your shoulder with glee. "No, she couldn't handle my lawyers." he bubbles.

"Oh yeah, you know you aren't supposed to sleep with each other tonight, right?" Leena inquires, moving her fork between the both of you.

The cackle Yoongi gives is loud and absurd, much like your best friend's comment. "I can't do anything to her she doesn't have proof of." he banters, pointing at your large belly.

Leena scoffs, pointing down at her plate. "Again. Eating. Gross." she enunciates, pouring herself another glass of expensive champagne.

Jimin's laugh rings throughout the dining room and Yoongi knows that he's the only person who could truly understand him in that moment.

"Why do people do that dumb tradition anyway?" Jeongguk asks, finally finishing his food.

"It actually comes from arranged marriages. When people didn't know who they were marrying." Yoona informs him.

"Fuck that luck shit. That's the saying, isn't it? 'It's bad luck to see the bride' or something like that." Hoseok breathes.

"I think I'm lucky," Yoongi, Namjoon and Jimin reply all at once.

Your best friend takes the opportunity to sneer at her boyfriend and you can't help but giggle at his hopeless expression. "You know I love you, baby." Taehyung coos, sliding his arm over her shoulders.

"Mhm." she drolls, rolling her eyes when both of you look at one another.

"What's for dessert?" Jeongguk asks pleasantly, tying his long black hair up into a ponytail.

"Are you serious? You're not full?" Namjoon gawks at the boxer.

"I was saving room for dessert!" he beams, looking over at you expectantly.

Jeongguk is sweet, sweeter than most younger men you've ever met. He feels something akin to a little brother to you at this point and it's wonderful to see that even if you're rich you can still have manners.

"I made just a simple cobbler, since the wedding cake tomorrow is going to be super heavy and rich." you announce.

Yoongi shoves his chair back, holding out his hand to help you up like the gentleman he is.

He watches you carefully sprinkle powdered sugar atop the dessert with warm eyes.

You don't know how difficult it's going to be walking up that aisle tomorrow, but you do know that your ankles are going to be on fire. They already are.

He picks up the ceramic dish for you, nodding to the chair for you to sit back down and your heart warms for what feels like the billionth time today.

He's such a special person.

"Yoongi is really cool these days, huh?" Jimin jeers, elbowing your fiance when he steps between him and Jeongguk to place the dessert onto the table.

"I've always been cool," he counters, nudging the younger man back

"Well…" Jeongguk and Taehyung droll at the same time.

"Whatever," the CEO breathes, rolling his eyes.

Your giggle seems to light up the room as well as Yoongi's heart. Slamming down in his chair beside you, he can't help the glee that courses through him.

He can't wait for tomorrow.

Climbing into bed, you let the mattress mold to your body and it feels like heaven to be finally laying down, your body certainly thanks you for it.

Yoongi leans against the wall, watching as you sigh happily. "I can just come to bed y'know? I don't need to stay up and hang out." he offers, padding towards you.

"No, that wouldn't be fair. It's your bachelor party. You should be able to play poker and drink." you reply, cupping your stomach.

His eyes drift over you and you can see how soft his expression is in the dim lighting. "You got out of your bachelorette party," he adds, sitting on the edge of the bed.

"I have a reason. I'm pregnant." you deadpan, lifting your head to look at him.

"With my baby," he coos, stretching up the bed to lay down beside you.

"Don't get comfy." you warn him, running your fingers over his clothed chest.

"I'm not, I'll just stay until you fall asleep." he promises, kissing your forehead.

His hand drifts over your stomach and the tiny kick he feels makes his heart beat faster. "Hey, kid. How you doin' in there?" he whispers, running his thumb over the spot his son just hit.

You hum gently, letting your eyes flutter closed.

"I'm so tired but I'm so nervous." you announce in the quiet room.

Your fiance looks away from your belly to look over at you. "It's okay to be nervous, but don't let it supersede your happiness for tomorrow either."

You nod gently, wrapping your arms around his neck. "I just have so many scenarios going through my head."

"And none of them are nice, I'm sure." he replies, booping your nose with his index finger.

Scoffing in agreement, you bury your face into his sweet smelling neck.

"I can make you cum, it might make you sleepy," he offers.

"I can't return the favor though, I'm too tired. It'll be unfair," you whine.

When he clicks his teeth, you only hold him tighter to your body.

"I don't need you to 'return the favor' when you love someone as much as I love you, you'd do anything to see them comfortable." he replies, kissing the top of your head.

"They're waiting for you downstairs." you remind him.

"Let them wait. You come first," he breathes, running the tips of his fingers over your soft inner thighs.

You whine in disagreement but your body betrays you naturally. Your legs spread wider and your breath hitches, your lips softly suckle on the thin skin of his neck waiting patiently for what he will do next.

"Your skin is so soft," he whispers, tugging the seat of your panties to the side.

He pulls away from you just far enough to be able to see how well he pleases you and he's already aroused at the sight.

Your eyes are low with lust, bottom lip clamped between your teeth. Your nipples are stiff peaks, straining against the grey silk nightgown you adorn. He can see the grey fabric becoming darker with each passing second as you bead milk.

"God," he groans, parting your lower lips.

"Tomorrow when we fly to Japan, I'm gonna fuck you in every way you could possibly think of." he promises, running his middle finger through your arousal.

"H-How?" you inquire curiously, gasping when he taps the pad of his finger to your clit.

His lips part and his teeth clamp down on one of the cups of your nightgown before pulling down harshly.

You whimper at the chilly air that glides over your now exposed skin.

He lays soft, hot opened mouthed kisses to your nipple, watching your eyebrows furrow in pleasure.

"How am I going to fuck you?" he prods.

You nod fervently, capturing your index finger between your teeth.

"Well," he begins, drawing smooth, slow circles to your swelling clit, "I'll start on the red eye. I'll take you back to the bedroom and take off that pretty wedding dress you'll be wearing just for me."

"Daddy," you whimper, spreading your legs wider for more.

He hums in agreement, pulling off your underwear to free you completely before him.

"I'm gonna make sure the whole crew of my plane knows you're getting fucked by your husband. Gonna have you screaming my name while I fuck your tight little pussy with my thick cock." he avows, kissing over your shoulder.

His words send shivers up your spine and your toes curl with excitement.

"Fuck," you whimper, grinding your hips down onto his hand.

"Gonna hold your big belly in my hands while I fuck you from behind. Let your milk drip all over the sheets of the bed on the plane. You're gonna beg me to go harder, to fill your dirty pregnant cunt full of my cum. I'm gonna make you feel so good, you aren't even going to care that everyone can hear you calling me daddy."

Shoving two fingers inside of you, he skillfully taps the soft patch of nerves within you and your brain is already firing on all cylinders to cum for him. His thumb begins to press harder circles into your clit and when you cup your belly, his eyes roll back at the sight.

"Gonna get you to the secluded hotel and fuck you out on the balcony, in the bath tub, on the bed, anywhere I can get my hands on you. Because I need you wrapped around me. Always." he murmurs into your ear.

"Shit!" you cry out, letting your head loll back to the pillow.

"Good girl, little dove." he praises, unbuttoning his pants for relief.

The head of his cock peeks out from the lip of his briefs and you whimper at the pearl of precum that beads at the tip.

"You're so beautiful," he breathes, kissing from your collarbone to your pert nipple.

When he suckles softly, your hips lift at the erotocism. He moans at the taste of your milk and his hand ghosts over his hard cock.

"Daddy," you cry out, starting to shake from the overwhelming pleasure.

Sitting up on his knees, he shoves his pants down further. He parts your legs wider and he doesn't seem to care that all of his friends are waiting patiently for him downstairs.

His cock ruts between your folds and you're ever so close to cumming with every swipe the head of his cock brushes against your clit.

"So warm," he murmurs, purchasing his bottom lip between his teeth.

Your moans begin to get louder and he knows you're so close to releasing your pleasure.

"That's it baby, you're so close." Yoongi notices, running his hands over your stomach.

"O-Oh my God!" you cry out, grabbing his hands over your belly.

"I know, little dove. Feels good, huh?" he coos.

You're so obscenely wet, that even without him being inside you he's finding himself close to his own end.

It's just you in general, you overstimulate him in ways he can barely understand.

"Daddy, I'm gonna cum." you bleat, gripping his hands harder.

"Cum for me, little dove. I want to see your pretty face when you cum for me." he begs, rutting his hips harder against your core.

You do as told, cumming for him with white spotted eyes and loud sobs of pleasure.

"Good girl," he praises, pulling away from your weeping pussy.

He fists his cock in hand, dragging the swollen, leaking tip over your belly. "Such a pretty woman I have beneath me. Fuck," he curses, jerking his hand faster.

Even as tiredness begins to shroud you, you want him to orgasm too. "Daddy, cum all over my belly. Want to feel your warm cum."

He takes a sharp breath between his teeth, his eyes snapping to yours.

When you palm your breasts, his eyes immediately falter to them. You pinch your nipples purposefully, earning droplets of milk that stream slowly over your digits.

"Oh fuck!" he gasps loudly, pushing his hair out of his eyes.

"Want your cum so badly," you whimper, looking up at him with doe-like eyes.

"Yeah? You want me to cum all over your belly?" he prods, feeling his balls tightening.

You nod fervently, leaving your breasts to rub circles to your distended skin.

"Fuck!" he curses, squeezing his eyes shut as his orgasm courses through him. His cock throbs and stutters in his hand and you hum with satisfaction when you feel his warm cum land on your belly.

"God, you're too sexy for your own good." the father of your child jeers, sitting back on the heels of his feet.

You find yourself giving a tired giggle and your eyelids slowly begin to shield your eyes from view.

"Good girl." he whispers softly, hopping off the bed to clean your stomach.

When he comes back with a wet towel, he can see that you're already fast asleep. He's happy knowing that you'll be able to sleep even if it's only for a few hours.

He can understand your worries and your fears but he wants you to be able to enjoy your wedding too.

Kissing your forehead as he cleans your belly, he sighs softly. "My wife," he breathes, closing his eyes.

"I'll be back later, my love." he promises, tossing the rag back into the bathroom.

Yoongi covers your naked body with the comforter and his heart is thudding in the recesses of his chest with joy.

Just a few more hours and you'll be legally his.

"Remind me why we're playing poker the night before your wedding instead of going out?" Taehyung asks, throwing chips into the center of the green felted table.

"Because there's no pregnant strippers around these parts," Jimin jeers, picking up his beer.

Yoongi sneers at the younger man beside him, elbowing him almost out of embarrassment.

"What? If I could go see a pregnant strip show, believe me, I would."

"We know." everyone replies, rolling their eyes.

"Last time you had a bachelor party, man, that shit was fun." the hotel CEO recalls.

"You had fun." Yoongi reminds him, ashing his cigar.

"Also, aren't you completely smitten with Leena anyway? You want her to have your baby." Namjoon prods, placing his cards down on the table.

Taehyung smirks at his comment, leaning back into his chair and slinging his arm over the lip. "Oh, I'm very happy. She's everything I could possibly want." he affirms, smiling to himself.

"Then why do you want to go to a strip club?" Hoseok adds, throwing chips onto the table.

"Because I like tits. Jesus Christ, just crucify me why don't you!" Tae replies appalled.

Yoongi snorts loudly, clamping his teeth down on his cigar.

He wonders if you're okay, if you've woken up in the past few hours due to his son being so active.

His fingers flex uncomfortably and he's still surprised how much his life has changed in such a small amount of time. He's gone from being a violent, sadistic, narcissistic asshole to being a needy, loving and adoring man. And that's all thanks to you.

You've completely changed the pattern of his DNA and he could never appreciate you as much as you deserve.

"You excited for tomorrow, hyung?" Guk's voice pulls him from his thoughts and he smirks at the younger man.

"Very excited but very nervous." he admits to his group of friends.

"I remember the night of his other wedding. He was so fucking drunk he could barely stand up on his own." Jimin recalls with a laugh.

"I had to hold him up with my shoulder from behind so he didn’t fall backwards." Namjoon adds with a sharp laugh.

Yoongi smirks to himself, looking down at his pocket which holds his wallet. "Well, I'm just glad we don't have to have a repeat of that horrible day again."

"You got lucky dude, not many people find their soulmate when they were an asshole like you were." Hoseok says, pointing at the Kisung CEO.

His sneer is terrifying but probably only to himself as the other men laugh at Hobi's words.

"Y/N completely made him do a 180." Joon concurs.

"I like Y/N noona a lot. She fits in well and she's always optimistic and sweet. We needed someone like her in our lives." Guk beams and your soon-to-be husband seems to glow in their praise.

He loves hearing his friends talk so highly of you. He loves knowing that you're loved for being yourself, especially because you don't know it very often.

He can remember when he first met you, in the back of Seokjin's club. You were sweet and kind but a smart ass and cheeky at the same time. You intrigued him on so many levels and he can remember how badly he wanted to destroy you. But he never would have expected to fall in love with you as earnestly as he has.

And he wouldn't change it for anything in the universe.

"Leena has been putting in so much work for this wedding, you would think it's hers." Taehyung laughs, pulling Yoongi out of his reverie.

"And when are you getting married to her then?" the Kisung CEO inquires, ashing his cigar.

The question seems to stupify the handsome hotel owner, he stutters and shifts awkwardly in his seat trying to reply to the sudden question.

"Jesus, you broke him!" Jimin laughs, clapping his best friend on the back.

Taehyung's cheeks burn bright red and his hand immediately cups the back of his neck out of embarrassment. "I mean I bought a ring. I just haven't thought of anything romantic to y'know… ask her."

Beer goes flying out of Jimin's mouth and the sneer Yoongi gives makes him want to die on the spot.

"Jimin. You're paying for the new felt, you fucking animal." Yoongi gripes, watching Namjoon and Hoseok heartily laugh at the younger man.

"That'll be great! Leena noona is really nice!" Jeongguk cheers, hugging Taehyung happily.

"Thanks…" Tae breathes embarrassed.

Yoongi winks at him and he isn't surprised in the slightest, he knows just how smitten the man is with your best friend.

"Yoongi?"

The voice is gentle and tired.  In an instant he's burning out his cigar and waving the smoke away.

"Yeah, baby?" he calls to you, disregarding the others in the library.

"Just checking to see if you were all still here," you murmur, stepping into the library doorway.

You're beautiful in the dim glow of the library's lights and the smile that spreads over his face is heart shatteringly perfect.

"Still here." he beams, padding over to you.

"Okay." you bleat, rubbing your sleep hooded eyes.

"What're you doing up, my dove? You must be so tired." he inquires, pushing hair back behind your ear.

"I'm thirsty. Wanted water." you chirp, pressing your forehead into his chest.

"Okay. Get your water and I'll be up in a few minutes. Alright?" he promises, tipping your chin up with his index finger.

You hum in agreement, starting to yawn.

He chuckles at your sleepy state, kissing your forehead. He pats your backside for good measure before turning to his friends that are seated around the poker table.

"I think it's time to get some rest before the big day tomorrow."

The guys hum in agreement, tossing down their cards and standing up.

"Tomorrow's gonna be great, man. I'm really happy for you." Joon whispers, patting his shoulder as he heads out first.

Yoongi can only agree with a wide smile.

Tomorrow is the start to the rest of his life. And it's perfect, just like you.

Next Chapter ----->

Third Wheeling Taglist -  @wickizer, @imluckybitches, @slothykrueger, @claireelise19, @ggukkieland, @rspbrryy, @iv-bts, @bambuzlee, @chanelbts, @mxxngxdss, @bluewhale52, @milesjeon11, @diamonddia-mond, @vinylphwoar, @xnxy97, @hubbytaehyung, @140503at-dawn, @bts-7beauts, @jadeblackwoll, @sunshiine-hobii, @creatorspalace, @eclectically-esoteric, @nikkiordonez12, @kaitswrld, @skamlover200, @sevgilove98, @kooeuphoria, @jikooksgirl19, @hobbledehoy26, @singular-itae, @dchimminie, @lowlifeoeuvre, @sugaslittlekookies, @bloopbloopb, @pjmcth, @softysuho, @codeinbelle, @jaiuneamesolitaiire, @betysotelo18, @jeonmisha, @iwanttohitmyself, @ayyyocee, @neverthefirstchoice, @itsbangtanoclock, @little7bitchh, @veryuniquenamegoeshere, @deathkat657, @firstlovesuga-93, @namjoonia, @paperpurple, @muzikabijou, @liebeoppa, @veronawrites, @kleff03, @ruinsofangels, @brightwingr5, @leekanchol, @rkivemagic, @ithinkileftmycoatoutside, @melaninkpops, @y00ngisbabygirl, @ungodlyjoon, @prochnost513, @dunixxd, @athenakyle, @igotnotype, @chxmachxps, @tinymintyoongi, @vangameren-blog, @alpaca1612, @ohcarolinamin, @thegreatestsushi​, @eltrain80, @btsmylife21, @deeepvibes, @httpminyg, @deliciouslydisturbed365​, @rkchmestizangmaldita​, @jimin-chu, @pimpnameyannie​, @preciouschimine​, @daughterofthequeen, @monetsberet​, @vanillamyg, @aamxxrii​, @kooafraid​, @ladykadyrova​, @singjisu​, @yazanii​, @moonlitmyg​, @justzeera​, @absolutefantrash​, @whocaresarchives​, @loosewindmill, @vantesfx​, @bt21chim​, @flowerboyhobi​, @kozuume-kenma, @taepiper​

Sorry for those it didn’t tag!

[ragingbookdragon]

The Best Of Us

Batfamily x M!Reader

Word Count: 3,035 Warnings: Angst

Author's Note: And here we are with a Batbrother fic! Enjoy! -Thorne

It wasn’t an inferiority complex. Not really. He wasn’t prone to anger or any of the other symptoms listed under it—and he checked. Multiple times. But there was something about being the only non-vigilante in his family of vigilantes that made him feel inadequate compared to the rest. Bruce had the Justice League, Dick and Jason had their own fantastic groups that saved the day, and Tim and Damian were still in school, but even they had their groups too. Hell, even Alfred still had contacts from his days in MI-5. And yet, he had none of the skills his brothers or father had, no extensive martial arts training, master detective skills, or weapon mastery. He was completely normal—or maybe abnormal in this case. And on some level, he resented that he couldn’t be like his family—maybe he did have an inferiority complex.

***

The greatest thing in (Y/N)’s mind about still being allowed to live at home was that no matter what, there was always food around to eat—Alfred saw to it that every growing man in the house had enough to eat—that being said, their grocery bills were outrageouslyexpensive.

He balanced his tablet in one hand, the other hand adjusting the tie around his neck as he stepped into the kitchen, quick to raise the tablet in time to avoid whacking his youngest brother in the head.

“Morning,” he greeted, taking his seat at the table, just after Jason’s. A chorus of tired, ‘mornings’ came back at him and he quirked an eyebrow. “Wow, loving the enthusiasm this morning, guys.”

Jason snorted and propped his chin on his palm, watching (Y/N) for a moment. “I seriously don’t understand how you’re always so chipper in the morning.”

He huffed a laugh and took a sip of the coffee that Alfred set down. “Someone has to be the ray of sunshine in this group of gray clouds.” (Y/N) cast a glance at Dick who was shoveling eggs into his mouth. “And it seems like our eldest is busy feeding his bottomless pit.” Dick was fast to shoot him a glare, that he returned with a smile.

Just then, Tim trudged into the kitchen in an oversized hoodie and plopped down in his seat, immediately shoving the plate in front of him to drop his head onto the table.

“Jesus Christ, you guys,” (Y/N) sighed, flicking at his tablet for a moment. “You’ve seriously gotta take a day off to recuperate.”

“What do you think we do during the day?” Dick retorted, taking a swig of milk.

“Okay I think you’re confusing the entire day with the first half,” he reasoned. “When I say take a day off, I mean the whole twenty-four hours.” He glanced at everyone, and the only person who seemed to not be tired was Alfred, and that’s partly because (Y/N) believed he was immortal. “You guys are gonna run yourselves into the ground,” he said. “I just don’t think—”

“We know what we are doing, (Y/N),” Damian interrupted with a glare. “We know our limits better than you do.”

He let out a sigh and shook his head. This conversation had happened many times before and it wasn’t anything new.

“I’m not saying I know them better than you Damian, I’m simply saying that you guys should take a day to relax so that something doesn’t happen on the job that you can’t control.”

(Y/N) glanced at his father. “Dad, c’mon, you know I’ve got a point.”

Bruce hummed and flipped the page of the newspaper. “So does Damian.” He met (Y/N)’s eyes and nodded. “You don’t have to worry so much, (Y/N). We know what we can handle.”

He stared at Bruce for a moment then scowled. “I don’t even know why I bother,” he muttered, and Damian was fast to chase his comment.

“I don’t know why you bother either. You’ve never once experienced what we do every night.”

(Y/N) met his youngest sibling’s glare. “Just because I don’t stick my neck out for each person in this city night after night doesn’t mean that I don’t know what it’s like to be exhausted.”

Damian crossed his arms over his chest. “So, you know what it’s like to be exhausted from blood loss because you’ve been stabbed or shot? Or to be exhausted from saving the lives of innocent people? You do?”

“I—” (Y/N)’s mouth opened, then he snapped it shut and looked away with a darkened expression, tasting something sour in his mouth. “No, I don’t.”

“That’s what I thought,” Damian finalized, and in the wake of the uncomfortable tension, a cellphone went off.

Everyone started looking for theirs, but (Y/N) muttered, “It’s mine.”

He picked it up and put on a cheerful voice. “Good morning Angela…yes, I just got the floor plan…” he tapped at the screen on his tablet. “Do me a favor and move the people from table eight to table three. Mr. Robinson is better friends with Mrs. Grace and will certainly give us a warmer atmosphere in that area.”

(Y/N) paused and listened, then he stood from the table and pushed his chair in. “Let me get to the office and we can situate the rest of the guests for tonight…alright, see you soon. Bye.”

He pulled the phone from his ear and ended the call, then took the black backpack that Alfred was holding to him. “Thanks Alfred.”

“Of course, Master (Y/N). Have a pleasant day at work.”

He huffed a laugh, but it was anything but amused. “I have to give a speech tonight in front of the entire company and three different magazines.” He glanced at Bruce. “Think you’ll be able to attend tonight? It’d mean a lot to me.” Bruce grunted, his way of telling (Y/N) that he’d try, but to not hope for a miracle.

It was fine, he was used to parentless ceremonies and events. He cleared his throat and shrugged on the backpack, making his way to the garage door.

“See you guys later.”

***

He’d given a few speeches in his short twenty-four years, and while he’d never say he was an expert on public speaking, he did know his way around a podium. That being said, every time he had to do a speech, he felt like vomiting—nerves he chocked it up to.

(Y/N) cast a glance around the packed ballroom, quietly groaning at the massive amount of people. His own table was empty, save for Angela and thank god for him, Lucius. He couldn’t help but frown at the name tags sitting in front of the empty seats.

“Wondering where the rest of the gang is?”

He met Lucius’ eyes and gave a halfhearted smile. “I’d like to think they took my advice and took the night off but…something tells me that the night called to them.” His lips pulled downwards. “I’m not going to act like this is a surprise, Lucius. I couldn’t even get them to show up for my university graduation.”

(Y/N) smiled and stood up, grabbing the notecards beside him. “What makes you think I could get them to show up to this?” He left the table and moved to the side of the stage, waiting for his name to be called. His fingers briefly shifted to his chest, feeling his heart fluttering beneath chest, nerves causing his breathing to come in short bursts. (Y/N) shut his eyes and took a deep breath, letting a pleasant smile cross his face as the presenter called his name, and walked up the steps.

The bright flash of photography momentarily blinded him, but he smiled through it. “Good evening, ladies and gentlemen, thank you for joining us tonight at the Centennial Inside Alliance Award Ceremony.” He flashed everyone a million-watt smile. “My name is (Y/N) Wayne, and as many of you know, I am a senior editor for Inside Alliance. It is my pleasure tonight to recognize Inside Alliance’s top writer for the year.”

(Y/N) glanced around the room, making sure to catch the eyes of the hundreds of guests.

“Inside Alliance was created on August fourteenth, nineteen-twenty by a group of immigrant mothers and fathers who wanted to bring knowledge of their homes and cultures to the rest of world. Some of those countries being Germany, Romania, Greece, Ireland, Italy, Israel, and many, many others.”

“The production of their valuable time and extensive care created one of the greatest magazines that is still in business today, that brings attention to the worldwide issues that many groups face, while still connecting to their roots of educating the public on cultures and groups.”

He smiled. “It is with my upmost honor that I congratulate and introduce Miss Flora Janaliyeva, one of our newest and greatest writers that has joined Inside Alliance, and the winner of tonight’s Inside Alliance Award.”

(Y/N) turned to the side and grinned at Flora as she ascended the stairs. Her long black hair was braided down the length of her back and she wore a bright and floral-patterned gown. She reached (Y/N) and he reached with his right, shaking her hand, and handed her the glass award with the other.

“Miss Janaliyeva, it is with honor and congratulations that I give you this award for your excellent talent and recognition of ability from Inside Alliance.”

She smiled brightly and accepted the award. “Thank you, Mister Wayne, the honor is mine.” He nodded politely once more and descended the stairs as she began her speech, quietly taking his place back at the table.

“Well done, Mister Wayne,” Lucius smiled and (Y/N) let out a deep breath.

“I’m just surprised I was able to do that without stuttering or panicking.” He glanced over, smile lowering slightly. “Lucius, are you alright?”

The older man dabbed at his forehead and nodded, though when he breathed, it sounded labored. “I’m fine,” he assured, then reached up to rub at his chest.

(Y/N) shifted. “I don’t think you’re alright Lucius.” He leaned over. “Are you having chest pain?”

“I—yes,” he grit out then met (Y/N)’s gaze. “My chest is getting—tight and I…and I—”

He started to slump over and (Y/N) shot to his feet, eyes widening with fear. “Lucius!” The yell startled the crowd and Flora, who all looked over at the two.

(Y/N) pulled the older man back and pressed his ear to his chest, listening. He pulled away and yelled, “Someone call an ambulance! I think he’s having a heart attack!”

He helped Lucius to the floor and immediately pressed his palms to the man’s chest, starting compressions. His breath came in panicked spurts and he kept looking at Lucius’ face.

“Just hand on Lucius. You’re going to be okay.” (Y/N) kept at it until the EMT’s arrived and they knelt beside them.

“Let us take over.”

For a moment, he didn’t move, too afraid that if he did, Lucius would die, but one of the EMT’s placed a hand on his shoulder while the other slide their hands underneath (Y/N)’s.

“Son, we’ll take it from here.”

(Y/N)’s arms went slack, and he let the medic pull him away, watching as they took over and started moving him onto the stretcher.

“Please, save him. He’s—he’s friends with my family I—”

The medic nodded firmly. “We’ll do all we can.”

And all (Y/N) remembered was someone ushering him into a taxi heading for the hospital.

***

The first people that arrived were Lucius’ family who were grateful for (Y/N)’s actions, but the young man could barely grimace as they disappeared into the hospital room, leaving him sitting outside, his head in his hands. Tears gathered in his eyes as he thought back to what the ER doctor told him.

***

“Mister Fox is in a stable condition, but you have to understand, Mister Wayne, his heart is very weak.”

“But—but he’ll be okay right?”

“Based on Mister Fox’s past conditions, he’s verging into heart failure. His heart is too weak to keep up with what the body needs.”

“And…and what does his body need at this point?”

“At this point? A new heart.”

***

He sucked in a breath and fought to keep the sob from escaping his throat, just as heard, “(Y/N)!”

His head shot up and he saw his father and older brothers coming down the hallway. (Y/N) clambered to his feet.

“Dad I—” he started, but cut off as he choked on a sob, and Bruce pulled him into a hug, holding (Y/N) as he sobbed. “I’m sorry,” he cried. “I tried my best but—”

“Shh,” Bruce hushed, a firm, but gentle hand coming to rest at the back of his son’s neck. “You did all that you could.”

He pulled back and wiped his face. “But Lucius needs a new heart, and I don’t know what to do. I should’ve seen this coming. He hasn’t been feeling well the past few weeks and I—”

“(Y/N),” his father said firmly, hands coming to rest on his shoulders. He met Bruce’s eyes. “This wasn’t your fault.”

His libs wobbled and he whispered, “But if I were like you guys, I would’ve seen something earlier. I didn’t and now…” sighing, he added, “and now Lucius needs a new heart, or he’ll die.”

Bruce’s sigh was heavier than (Y/N)’s and it made his chest heavy. “We’ll get Lucius a new heart, (Y/N).”

He lowered his head and lamented, “I’m sorry, dad.”

His father squeezed his shoulder then lead him towards Dick and Jason. “Take (Y/N) back home for the night. I’ll stay here with Lucius’ family.”

They nodded and led their brother down the hall, arms firm across his shoulders in a comforting way. They didn’t say anything, knowing that there wasn’t much to offer, but their support was enough for (Y/N), even if he felt horrible.

***

For being the World’s Greatest Detective, his son was evidently the World Best Hider, because it took Bruce a long time to finally find (Y/N). He stepped quietly over to the form sitting on the ledge and took a seat beside him, silently gazing out at the backyard. A bottle appeared in his vision and he focused on it as the smell of whiskey reached his nose.

“Where’d you get that?” he asked but took the bottle anyway.

“Jason gave it to me earlier.” He watched Bruce take a sip. “Figured it fit the occasion.”

Bruce chuckled. “That sounds like Jason’s way of dealing with a problem.”

They sat in a comfortable silence for a while, passing the bottle back and forth, simply enjoying the calm around the manor and night.

“You know it wasn’t your fault, right?” Bruce suddenly said.

(Y/N) sighed and set the bottle down, kicking his legs out off the roof. “Lucius said he hadn’t been feeling well recently. And I just passed it up to getting older.” He looked at his father. “If I’d actually paid attention, then I would’ve seen the symptoms.”

“Do you actually know what the symptoms of heart failure and heart attack are?”

“I…no, not really.”

“Then you couldn’t’ve known.” He looked at (Y/N). “Lucius works in my office every day. If anyone should’ve known and seen it, it should’ve been me.” Bruce shook his head. “But you did everything you could at the awards ceremony, and that saved Lucius’ life tonight. You did good.”

“I could’ve done better.” (Y/N) muttered. “I should’ve. I’m your son and I’m practically useless to the family but—”

“Woah, woah,” Bruce interrupted, brows furrowing as he asked, “What are you talking about?”

(Y/N) turned to him. “I am the least useful person in this family. I mean you and the guys are these crazy intelligent, vigilante master detectives and I’m just me.” He wiped away a tear that fell from his eye. “I can’t speak seven different languages or solve murder cases with a single strand of DNA left at the scene of a crime. Hell, I can’t even throw a punch.” He sighed heavily. “The last time I tried, I broke my hand.”

Meeting his father’s gaze, he said, “I just want to be like you guys.” He lowered his head. “I just want to be normal and not an outlier in the family.”

Bruce simply stared at him for a long moment, and while he’d never been privy to let his emotions show on his face, he let them this time—shock and shame. Shame that he didn’t see his greatest achievement suffering.

“(Y/N).”

He didn’t look up at first, but then he did. “Yes sir?”

“How long have you felt like this?”

(Y/N) shrugged. “Forever?”

His father sighed. “Son, I…I never wanted you to be like us.”

He gaped at Bruce. “What?”

“(Y/N), every person in this family is driven to do what we do because of our childhoods. You’re the only one who doesn’thave any skeletons in his closet.” He stared at him. “We wish every day that we could be like you and not a day goes by that we don’t think that.”

“I…what?” he floundered, absolutely bewildered at the idea that his father and brothers wanted to be the most boring person ever. “There’s no way that’s true.”

“It is.”

“No.” (Y/N) huffed. “I’m me. I’m plain and boring, work a nine to five job me. I mean I write for a magazine for god sakes! And you guys save the world!”

Bruce chuckled. “And what we wouldn’t give to be just a bit more normal like you, son.” He shrugged. “You think you’re inferior because you’re not a vigilante, but you’re the one thing that keeps us all sane. You give us the perspective of someone who isn’t what we are. Of someone who’s completely normal.”

He reached over and placed a hand on (Y/N)’s shoulder. “And being normal? Being you?” Bruce squeezed firmly. “I don’t want you to be anyone else.”

(Y/N) gazed at him, and though he felt tears in his eyes, he didn’t blink, didn’t let them fall. “I’ve only ever wanted to make you proud.”

Bruce smiled heartfully. “You do, (Y/N). Everyday. Because you’ve always been the best of us.”

[nicknellie]

Anonymous requested: Alex has a really bad day. His anxiety playing up and just things generally going wrong. It’s the end of the day Willie and Alex are having a sleepover and are in bed. Alex breaks down and Willie comforts him.

Okay, I love this so much, thank you for sending it! I really hope I did it justice, I always enjoy writing Alex’s anxiety and supportive Willie. Sorry it’s taken me so long to get around to writing it, life got in the way. Thank you for the request, anon!

TW: anxiety, homophobia

All the Love in the World

From the moment he woke up, Alex knew that it wasn’t going to be a good day. He knew it because he could barely find the strength to open his eyes and when he eventually managed it he wanted nothing more than to close them again, curl in on himself and stay there in bed unmoving for the rest of the day. He knew it because he was exhausted like he hadn’t slept in days, his mind racing to catch up with his body but not quite making it. He knew it because he felt sick to the stomach and his head was buzzing with indescribable tension and nerves.

Alex had days like this sometimes. Days that just didn’t feel worth it. Why should he get out of bed and get on with his day if his head was spinning, his eyes watering, his breathing hitched, his hands shaking? It was a day where his anxiety was needlessly heightened, overpowering from the moment he woke up, a dull ache in the pit of his stomach reminding him to worry. Reminding him that anything and everything had the potential to go wrong. Reminding him that it would feel like his fault.

On days like this, Alex just wanted to stay in bed. He hardly felt like he could move, let alone carry on with his day like there was nothing wrong, suffer through talking to people and put on a brave face. He wanted desperately to pull the bedcovers up over his head and lie there in the dark with nothing but his own company, but he knew he couldn’t. If he tried, his parents would come upstairs and force him out of bed anyway. They’d make him go to school, ignore all the warning signs, tell him to get on with it.

So, with more effort than it should have been, Alex dragged himself from the bed, rubbed his tired eyes, and made himself get on with it.

He opened up his chest of drawers to find something to wear but was quickly reminded that he’d forgotten to do his laundry. He cursed himself, remembering that his mother had told him to bring his clothes down the night before and he hadn’t done it. His alarm clock told him that he definitely didn’t have enough time to put on a wash – he’d have to wear clothes that hadn’t been washed.

Reluctantly, he fished yesterday’s t-shirt and a pair of jeans from his wash-basket. It wasn’t the worst thing in the world, he knew that; he’d only worn each thing once, they weren’t stained or dirty and they didn’t smell bad. He knew that nobody would even bat an eyelid. But the feeling of putting on the slightly crinkled clothes, cold against his skin, made him cringe. It was like he could feel the dirt against his skin, though he knew there wouldn’t be any. There was something painfully uncomfortable about it but he didn’t have a choice.

Feeling itchy all over, an uncomfortable humming sensation spreading through every inch of his body, he opened his bedroom door and he made himself get on with it.

Breakfast was waiting for him in the kitchen, as where the rest of his family. Alex sat down and poured himself a bowl of cereal, his father skimming a newspaper to his right, his mother frying something on the hob, and his little sister Lily wearing more of her cereal than eating it.

“Morning, Alex,” his father said, peering at Alex over the top of his glasses. “You’re up late. What took you so long?”

“Don’t know,” Alex mumbled with a shrug. He kept his eyes on his food, not wanting to engage. If he bothered trying to talk to his parents today he knew it wouldn’t end well.

“What was that?” his father pressed, slapping his hand where it rested against the table. Alex winced and withdrew it into his lap. “Speak up.”

“I just woke up late,” Alex said. He hoped it would be enough to shut his father up, but he knew that was wishful thinking for a day like today.

“Don’t you take that tone with your father,” his mother scolded, not bothering to look at him as she did so. “It’s not his fault that you can’t pull yourself together in the morning. That’s on you, Alex.”

Just like everything else, he thought to himself. It wasn’t a surprise that his parents were being so hard on him – that was pretty much routine by now – and on a normal day he could cope with it. But today didn’t feel like a normal day. Today felt like he could feel everything too much and was completely numb at the same time, like he had a million thoughts whirring through his head but his mind was totally empty, like he was going to cry but didn’t have enough of himself present to make any tears flow. So he just ignored it all because what else could he do?

“You should start running in the mornings, Alex,” his father suggested, folding his newspaper and setting it down, crossing his arms over his chest. Alex could feel his stony eyes boring into his head, but he still didn’t look up. “If you want to keep your place on the cross-country team then you need to start putting some actual effort in. Although I’m surprised they still want someone like you on the team anyway.”

Alex felt tears well up in his eyes. He couldn’t do this today. He couldn’t.

He said nothing, but clearly his dad wasn’t happy with that. “God’s sake, Alex, you’re really going to cry at that? What is this, some pathetic attempt to convince us you really are what you say you are? You think acting like a prissy little girl is going to make us think you’re queer? Christ Almighty, Alex, you’re not. My son is not gay. Man up. You’ll never get anywhere in life if you’re a goddamn emotional wreck.”

He wiped at his eyes, hoping it was discreet, knowing it wasn’t. A quiet sob escaped him but it sounded loud as a scream in the tense silence of the kitchen. He heard his mother tut, his father scrape his chair back and stand up, and even Lily’s giggles subsided as she realised that her big brother was crying.

“I wish I didn’t have to call you my son,” his father said. The disdain in his voice rattled around in Alex’s head, echoing over and over like some cruel broken record. A moment later, the door slammed and Alex was left alone with his mother and sister.

“You know not to upset him, Alex,” his mother told him. “He’s very stressed with work at the moment, he doesn’t need you and your nonsense adding to it.”

“Sorry,” Alex said, voice hoarse. His mother didn’t reply.

He opened his eyes – he didn’t know when he’d closed them, but the light in the kitchen was far too bright when he opened them again and he fought the urge to shut them – and looked out of the kitchen window. It was pouring with rain outside, wind heaving trees this way and that, the clothes hanging on the washing line at risk of blowing away.

“Can I have a lift to school please?” Alex asked. “It’s raining.”

Alex’s mother peered out the window herself, groaned at the drenched laundry on the washing line, then turned back to Alex with a sour look on her face. “If you’d got up on time then maybe I could have taken you. But no – your father’s got to work and I’ve got to get Lily ready for school. Make your own way there.”

“It’s hell out there,” Alex protested weakly.

His mother picked Lily up from her chair, the five-year-old covered in Coco Pops and with a huge smile on her face, looking so unlike her bitter mother that it was hard to believe they were related at all.

“You’ll be fine,” his mother said. “You’re going to hell anyway.”

Without another word, his mother left the room, Lily waving at Alex over her shoulder. Alex hung his head, rubbing his knuckles against his temples, trying to ground himself, trying to think. Maybe he could get a lift from one of his friends, he considered. But his house wasn’t on the way to school for any of them and he didn’t want to annoy them by making them go out of their way to get him. Besides, they’d probably just tell him to walk. It wasn’t like the school was that far away, it was only a little rain. He wasn’t that pathetic, he could handle getting a bit wet. What did it matter?

He shook his head to clear his addled thoughts, finished getting ready for school, found an old coat and headed out into the rain. He just made himself get on with it.

Even though the walk to school was short, it wasn’t made easy by the rain. It blurred most of his vision, soaked any part of him that wasn’t covered by the coat – within three minutes his jeans were plastered to his legs and his face was numb with cold. At one point, a car drove past his and sent an icy puddle spraying up at him like a tidal wave. He spat rainwater out onto the pavement and wished for the rain to subside, just for a little bit. Of course, it didn’t.

When he finally arrived at school, he pulled his coat off and shook out his wet hair like a dog. A group of girls beside him shrieked as the water splashed them, but he didn’t have the energy to apologise. He just made his way to his locker, trying to move quickly as if that would make the day go faster, get it all out of the way.

He arrived at his locker and saw Luke waiting for him there, a bright smile on his face that disappeared as soon as he saw the state Alex was in.

“Bro, you’re a mess,” he said as soon as Alex was close enough to hear him.

“Thanks,” he deadpanned.

“Did you walk here? Dude, it’s practically a storm out there.”

Alex shrugged, trying to play it off like he didn’t care. “So? A little water won’t hurt me.”

“You’re shivering,” Luke pointed out. “And you’re soaked. Dude, you can’t go around in wet clothes all day, you’ll get sick. And you’re a nightmare when you’re sick.”

“It’s fine,” Alex said dismissively. “I might have some sweatpants in my PE kit. I’ll wear those.”

“Why did you walk anyway?” Luke asked, leaning against the locker beside him.

“My parents couldn’t take me.”

Luke’s expression morphed into something Alex was too tired to identify. There was confusion in there, concern, maybe a bit of anger. None of it made sense to Alex though, so he opened up his locker so he’d have somewhere else to look.

“I would have taken you,” Luke said, clapping Alex on the back. The touch made his skin crawl and he squeezed his eyes shut to try and dispel the grim feeling that had settled between his shoulder blades. “You should’ve just called.”

“My house isn’t on the way for you,” Alex pointed out.

“So? You know I would have come for you, Alex, don’t be dumb.”

Alex’s heart sank. Was that what he was? Did Luke really think he was dumb for not calling him? Though Alex was starting to feel a little stupid himself. What had he been thinking? Had he really let his stupid anxieties get to him so much that he’d misjudged his friends so harshly? Maybe he was as stupid as Luke said.

“Alex,” Luke said softly, pulling him back down to Earth. “Don’t get lost in your own head, buddy. Okay? Just go and get changed. You’re fine. I’ll see you in class, bro.”

He headed to the changing rooms, not really paying attention to anything going on around him and hardly remembering the journey once he got there. Hurriedly, he pulled his waterlogged jeans off and tried to brush any lingering water off his legs, but it was impossible. He settled for being a little bit damp and pulled the joggers on. They were a thousand times more comfortable than the jeans, the first bit of good luck he’d had since he woke up. As he left the room, he shoved his hands into his pockets, and felt something in one of them.

It was a small scrap of paper. He didn’t remember putting anything in his pockets, so he pulled it out to inspect it. He recognised the handwriting immediately and for the first time that day a smile tugged at his lips.

I love you!

Willie’s messy scrawl filled most of the page, surrounded by tiny love hearts. He must have slipped it into Alex’s pocket the last time he’d been wearing these joggers. It made Alex’s heart flip, remembering that Willie was somewhere in the school and this note was proof that he loved him. Somewhere nearby, Willie was wandering the halls (or more likely skating through them and being sent to Principal Lessa for it yet again) and Alex would get to see him soon. That, he knew, would brighten even his darkest days.

For a moment or two he let himself be happy. He’d see Willie and everything would feel fine. Willie had that effect on Alex – just one moment together could force any worry out of his mind.

But then he realised that it was a Friday. The one day of the week where his timetable clashed so awfully with Willie’s that they had literally no chance to see each other. They didn’t share a breaktime, they didn’t share lunch, there was no chance they’d even pass each other in the halls. Any hope Alex had held dissipated like air from a burst balloon. He was back to feeling like today just wasn’t worth it.

Without thinking, he pulled his phone out and quickly texted Willie, asking if he could sleep at his house that night. It would be good for a lot of reasons – he would have to spend the evening with his parents, he’d get to hold Willie for as long as he wanted to, and all the day’s stresses would finally leave him and he’d be free. All he had to do was get through the day.

Willie replied quickly, saying of course Alex could sleep over, he’d be looking forward to it. It was something to be happy about, Alex knew. Something for him to look forward to, to be excited by. But his anxiety got to it before his excitement could – what if Willie forgot, what if he changed his mind, what if Alex was somehow made to go home instead? All of a sudden his mind was buzzing again, a thousand possibilities being hauled through one by one, each less likely but more troubling than the last.

Just as he started considering the possibility that Willie had only said yes as some cruel joke, that their whole relationship was built just to embarrass Alex, he knew he had to stop. He knew he had to force himself to concentrate on something else, ignore every curse his brain threw at him. The school bell rang, signalling the first lesson, and Alex made himself get on with it.

School was decidedly not good. In his first lesson, Alex was surprised by a maths exam he’d completely forgotten to study for. His head was swimming the whole time and he only answered four of the questions, leaving the rest blank or filled with scribbles and half-finished equations. In his second lesson, the teacher asked for homework to be handed in, and Alex realised he’d left his on his desk in his bedroom. The teacher threatened him with detention which made Alex’s heart beat so rapidly that he could feel the blood pulsing in his neck. The only reason he got out of it was because it was the first time he’d ever left his homework and luckily the teacher was feeling kind.

But his third lesson was the worst. He arrived with most of the class long before the teacher, and all the other students were so loud. They were laughing and shouting and throwing things around, making so much noise that Alex wanted to clamp his hands over his ears and shut his eyes and stop moving. It was physically painful and he couldn’t take it. Before the teacher had even arrived, Alex was out of his seat and heading as fast as he could to the toilets.

He locked himself in a cubicle, leaned back against the wall and slid down to the floor, hands covering his eyes. His breathing came out in ragged strips, burning his chest. Hot tears were leaking down his cheeks and every time he wiped one away three more replaced it. He couldn’t feel his legs, if he had tried to stand up he knew they wouldn’t have held him. His hands were shaking so violently that he had to press them harder against his face to still them, knowing he’d probably leave a mark. Every time he moved felt like an excruciating amount of effort.

It felt like it would go on forever.

By the time he regained feeling in his legs, his hands stopped shaking, his eyes weren’t watering and his breathing was even, he had missed the entirety of his lesson. He forced himself up from the floor, feeling disgusting as he realised that the floor of a school toilet was probably one of the most unhygienic places on Earth. But he checked himself in the mirror one last time, ignored the receding blotches on his face, and headed to lunch.

The rest of the day passed largely without incident. He wasn’t hungry, so spent most of lunch pushing food around his plate. Julie, Reggie, and Luke gently encouraged him to try and eat something, but they left it alone when he told them he couldn’t. His final lessons dragged on and on, but he comforted himself with the knowledge that soon it would be just him and Willie and he could forget the dreadful day he’d had.

He met Willie at the entrance of the school after his final lesson. The rain had cleared and there was a tiny hint of the sun peeking through the clouds, glinting on the wet pavement. Alex’s heart swelled when he saw Willie waiting for him, skateboard in hand, hair tucked under his helmet, beaming. He walked over to him and didn’t bother saying anything before pulling Willie into the tightest hug he could.

Willie chuckled in his ear, gripping him with just as much force. “Miss me, hotdog?”

Alex could only nod, burying his face into Willie’s hair.

He felt Willie press a gentle kiss to his neck. “I missed you too. But I’m here now. Just us two.”

“Just us two,” Alex echoed.

The further away they walked from the school, the more Alex’s heart lifted. Hand in hand with Willie, he listened to him talk about his day, ranting about the cool stuff he’d learnt in history and showing him photos of the latest project he was working on in his art class.

“Recognise this guy?” Willie asked, swiping onto a picture of a portrait. The guy in the picture was laughing, his head tipped back and his eyes closed, blond hair fallen over his face. The background was dark, dotted with twinkling lights in every colour of the rainbow. Alex felt himself smile, in awe of Willie’s talent, loving him more every second.

“That’s me,” Alex said quietly.

He knew exactly what picture Willie had used as a reference. It had been taken when the two of them had gone to a carnival for the night – Alex had been laughing at Willie, who had somehow managed to get candyfloss all over his face while eating it. The portrait version captured the pure elation and giddiness Alex had been feeling at the time perfectly, better than the actual photograph had managed. He had no idea how Willie could paint the way he did, like the paintbrush was an extension of his arm, natural and easy.

There were no words to describe the way Willie made Alex feel, so he settled for, “I love you.”

Willie blushed daintily and squeezed Alex’s hand, tucking his phone back into his pocket. “I love you too.”

They arrived at Willie’s house soon enough. Luckily for Alex, he kept plenty of clothes at Willie’s as well as a toothbrush and a pair of drumsticks, so he didn’t have to go home and grab anything before coming. The two of them changed into more comfortable clothes (and if Alex stole one of Willie’s hoodies rather than simply using one of the three he kept there, that was his own business) before deciding to be lazy and tuck themselves into Willie’s bed together rather than heading all the way back downstairs.

Alex had planned to try and be fun that evening, for Willie’s sake. He didn’t want to be boring and quiet, letting his bad day get to him when he was with Willie. He wanted to have fun and be fun, not the moping emotional wreck he felt like. But it was easier said than done. Sure, being with Willie had already cheered him up immensely, but when he finally got to rest for a moment he thought he might break. The weight of the day caught up with him, every crushing thing his parents had said, every bitingly cold raindrop, every loud noise in the class he’d skipped. He felt as tired as he had that morning when he’d pulled himself from the bed.

He couldn’t make himself be fun that day.

“What are you thinking about?” Willie asked, running a hand through Alex’s hair. The touch was soothing and soft – it tore down the final remnants of Alex’s resolve.

He cuddled up close to Willie, laid his head on his shoulder, and he cried.

Willie didn’t say anything. He just looped his arms around Alex’s back and held him close. He gently stroked Alex’s hair, rubbed small circles on his back, pressed the occasional soft kiss to the top of his head. That was what Alex loved about Willie – there was never any pressure, Willie would let Alex do what he needed to in his own time. If he needed to cry his eyes out for some impossible amount of time, Willie would let him and he would hold him while it happened.

Eventually he calmed down enough to speak. Releasing the tears had left a hollow feeling in his stomach (though that might have had something to do with the fact he hadn’t eaten since breakfast). He felt guilty, selfish, like he should have just bitten his tongue and kept his emotions inside.

“I’m sorry,” he croaked, throat dry.

“You don’t need to apologise,” Willie told him reassuringly. “I don’t mind. I just want to be here for you.”

“You don’t want me to explain?” Alex asked. Usually when he broke this way people demanded an explanation from him, made him tell them everything he was thinking, forced him to move too quickly and too far. But Willie, of course, was different.

“Only if you want to,” Willie said. Alex propped his chin on Willie’s shoulder, angled so that he could look him in the eye. All he saw was honesty, adoration, care… things he wasn’t used to seeing when he was in such a state. But he knew he could always count on Willie to show him exactly what he needed.

He took a deep breath and slowly he told Willie everything. He told him how he’d felt awful since the moment he had woken up, how his parents had only made it worse, how the rain had dampened his mood, how he’d found Willie’s note but been crushed when he realised he wouldn’t see him. He told him about the failed test, the missed homework, the panic attack in his third lesson, eating nothing at lunch and how he was dreading the next time he had to go home.

And all the while, Willie just listened. He never interrupted, never offered an unhelpful opinion, never told Alex he was being silly. He just listened until Alex was finished.

“Look at me, Alex,” he said then, voice low. Alex did as he said. “None of this is your fault. Please tell me you know that.”

Tears brimmed in his eyes again, but still Alex nodded. He hadn’t known it before, but he believed everything Willie said. It Willie claimed it wasn’t Alex’s fault, then it wasn’t his fault.

“Your bad days will come and go,” he continued, wiping a stray tear away from Alex’s cheek. “But they’ll always be followed by good ones sooner or later. You can stay here with me for as long as you need to and I promise I’ll try and make every day as good as it can possibly be for you. You are loved, Alex.”

Alex sniffled weakly. “I know.”

“Maybe today did suck,” Willie said, “but look at where you are. You made it through. You got through this awful day. You’re still here, Alex, you’re still fighting. You did that all by yourself – I wish you hadn’t had to do it alone, and I’m sorry I wasn’t there, but you did it. I’m so proud of you. You made it, that’s what matters. You made it and I love you.”

Though he didn’t feel like he had a lot of strength left, Alex leaned up and kissed Willie’s cheek gently. He didn’t feel like he could speak, so that was his thank-you. Willie beamed at it, and Alex felt his spirits lift. He laid his head back down on Willie’s shoulder and nestled further into the bed.

“I mean it, Alex,” Willie whispered. “I’m proud that I get to call you my boyfriend.”

Alex had no idea how to reply, so he didn’t. He knew Willie knew that he loved him in return. That night, the two of them fell asleep to the sound of each other’s breathing, wrapped in one another’s arms, holding each other with all the love in the world.

[moral-turpitudes]

New Beginnings:

Masterlist | Rules | Peaky Prompts

Trigger Warnings: Swearing, Angst, Fluff, Mentions of Adoption, Slight Descriptions of Drug/Alcohol Abuse.

Word Count: 4,122

Characters: Johnny Dogs x Female!Reader (Polly’s Eldest Daughter)

Requested by: Anon, you can find it here. This was a bit challenging but I hope you like it! :)

Summary: Y/N and Michael Gray get the surprise of a lifetime when their blinder cousin Thomas and his friend Johnny Dogs show up at their doorsteps, but little does Y/N know what’s in store for her regarding the company.

“Is she alive?” Polly asked the local medium who’d been known for telling fortunes and such. The medium’s eyes were dark beneath her jewel-toned veil as she answered the female blinder.

“Your eldest, Y/N, is in London. Go find her and your boy Michael. He’s living on a farm out in the country side.” She said flatly, her voice void of emotion.

“And what about my youngest daughter, Anna?” Polly asked, knowing in her heart that the truth wasn’t always the easiest thing to hear.

“She’s dead.” She said, tightening her grip on Polly’s hand as she shook with emotion, tears streaming down her face as she remembered the little baby girl placed in her arms years ago before her death. Knowing too that her son and eldest daughter were ripped from her arms at such a young age after their drunk of a father died lodged between a boat and a dock in the cut.

“Thank you.” Polly said shakily before leaving. Putting a few shillings down on the table as the woman nodded and watched her leave.

“What’d you expect aye? She tells you what you want to hear Pol’....”Thomas said, as she told him about her meeting with the medium earlier that morning.

“I just needed confirmation is all. God I can’t believe they’ve been out there all these years. You have to help me find them Tommy. Please.” She said, pulling her hands to her mouth nervously as she bit at her nails. Her eyes still tinged red from crying and her makeup smudged slightly.

“I’ll do what I can with the information we have. Until then I think you should take the day off unless you think you can work in the condition you’re in.” He said, looking over the papers from her son Michael’s entry into an orphanage and then glancing at the adoption papers where he’d been named Henry.

“Henry of all names...can you believe it? Disgraceful.” She said.

“Any word on Y/N? She has to be nearing 28 by now. The poor woman will probably faint when she finds out.” She said, feeling herself wanting to close herself off into her apartment as the thought of re-kindling a barely-there relationship loomed over her.

“I’ve found her adoption papers. They kept her name, but she’s in London as far as this goes. This address is where she’ll be.” He said sliding the document towards her and running his index finger over the crinkled paper.

“Alright.” She said, shakily lighting a cigarette.

“Pol’...I’m serious. You need to prepare for this if this all works out alright? Can’t have our best woman down. We still need you.” He said, looking into her glassy eyes. Tears threatening to spill once again.

“I will. I’ll go home right now. But please bring them to me once you get them.” She said. Thomas nodded as he watched her walk out the door quickly. Her nerves rattled as she sped off to her lavish apartment that had been vacant for far too long.

“Johnny?” Thomas said over the phone, the rowdy traveler making it to a payphone to report how their latest burial was going.

“Oi! How are ya Tommy? Just got done burnin’ the old bastard. What’s next?” He asked.

“You’re going to help me get Polly’s children back. She has a son named Michael in his late teens and an older daughter named Y/N who’s 28.” He said quickly, checking his pocket watch.

“Christ....alright.” He said, looking out at the burning pile in the distance.

“It’ll help her make peace Johnny. She needs this for more than just her. For the whole family really.” He said.

“I know I know. If only that poor bastard Gray didn’t die a drunk then none of ya would be in that mess aye?” He said, a long silence lingering over the phone.

“Perhaps.” Thomas said, his mind remembering all the hell their family went through as they grew up. The poverty, the fights, the nights sitting up in fear as their father yelled at their mother, their mother succumbing to her visions and bouts of depression, the feuds with the other families around them, the long nights in the trenches of France, and the whole family business being shoved onto their shoulders with no parental guidance besides their aunt Polly. She being the one saving grace of the whole family.

As Thomas and Johnny drove out to meet Michael, Polly sat at home pacing back and forth as she wondered how the next few hours or even days would go. Knowing once Thomas put his mind to something he always tried to finish it, especially if it involved family.

“I’m here for Henry. His mother wants him home.” Thomas said bluntly to the woman who’d practically raised him.

“My Henry? I have the papers...He’s mine.” She said.

“Aye, and I have the papers too. I’m his cousin. And I know his birth mother would love nothing more than to see him since he was ripped from her arms. Let the man go and meet her. Once he’s done that he can make his decision.” He said, eyeing the woman coldly.

With tears in her eyes, the woman called for Michael to come forward, the fawn-haired young man running over to him.

“Hello Henry. Your mother wants to see you.” He said. Michael’s face evolving into one of confusion.

“But she’s right here? Who are you anyway?” He asked, a sassy tone to his voice that reminded Thomas of Polly.

“I’m your cousin Thomas Shelby. Your birth mother is Polly Gray. Your real name is Michael Gray. Now you can stay here on this little farm or you can leave to meet the woman who’s fought to find you for so many years. Which one will it be?” He asked impatiently, lighting a cigarette.

Michael nervously looked around and pulled his little sister in for a hug, telling her to be good and then giving his adoptive mother a hug. Knowing she was fuming inside.

“I-I’ll ring you alright? I’ve been wondering why I never had pictures here of when I was younger...and...I’ve been wondering why you all look different than me. I-I think it’s time I go find out for myself mum.” He said, giving her one last hug before going off with his blinder cousin and his friend Johnny Dogs.

“Now on to your sister.” Thomas said, driving off towards the busy London area.

---

Your head pounded as you got up. The drinks from the night before doing your head in as a sharp knock sounded at your apartment door. You shrugged on your red laced robe and lit a cigarette as you hastily put your wild locks in a bun, your eyes burning from the sunlight streaming in through the window nearby.

One more sharp knock sounded as you neared the door, making your blood boil slightly.

“Bloody hell. Hold on a moment will ya?” You yelled out, tying your robe around your nude frame. The stranger in your room snoring loudly in the back room of your haphazard apartment.

“What’s all this then? It’s a little early to be soliciting people don’t ya think?” You asked, blowing out a cloud of smoke as you took in the men before you.

One had piercing blue eyes, who had one of the coldest looks you’d seen on a man in a long time. Knowing he’d probably seen more hurt than happiness in his past years of life.

The other two had darker eyes, one of them younger and oddly familiar as you thought about your own facial structure. You had the same eyes. Eyes that never matched your adoptive parents. Eyes that the kids in the orphanage always picked on for being too brown in color when theirs were reminiscent of the sea and the sky and all the green earth in between.

The seemingly oldest of them looked on from the distance. His cigar dangling from his lips as his dark eyes scanned you up and down. He had a rough look to him, like he’s seen more sun than anyone here. That he’d lived everywhere and nowhere at the same time.

“Who are you all and why are you hogging my doorstep?” You asked.

“We don’t have a lot of time, but long story short, I’m your cousin Thomas Shelby. And this young man here is your brother Michael Gray. We only just found him. Your mother...Polly Gray...has been looking for you all these years.” He said bluntly.

“What? I thought she was dead or something. God knows father was.” You said, remembering the drunken man vaguely as well as a beautiful dark haired woman you were sure to have gotten your good looks from.

“You remember them?” Michael asked, a bit envious that his newfound sister was able to remember such a thing.

“Mhmm. Well...when do we meet her aye? I have some business to take care of.” You said, fiddling with your hands as Johnny continued to stare.

“Go do what you need to. We’ll wait out here.” He said.

“Who’s the rough looking fellow? A bit quiet aye?” You asked, pointing to Johnny.

He cleared his throat and took his cap off. His bright smile catching your eye as you blew smoke out from your lips.

“Sorry. I’m Johnny. Johnny Dogs. Traveler and helper of the Shelby family and such. Nice to meet you Y/N. Heard lots of good things ‘bout ya.” He said.

“Oh really? Like what? That I’m a drunk like me father? That I’m a whore?” She asked with a smirk, her laugh sending Johnny’s heart over the edge.

“Gods no. That you’re beautiful actually. Polly said so herself. She remembers ya well.” He said with a small smile that was soon extinguished by a cold glance from Thomas.

“Right....well I’ll be out in a moment.” You said with a slight smile, walking back inside and throwing your best clothes on and hurriedly doing your makeup.

“Well hello there love, who are you getting ready for this morning?” The man lying on your bed half naked murmured as you put on the last of your makeup.

“Get out.” You said, pulling your coat over yourself as you grabbed your purse.

“What? After last night you want me to leave?” He asked.

“What is this? A bed and breakfast? I said get the fuck out of me house!” You yelled, not even bothering to remember the lads name as you followed him down the hall, his pants put on haphazardly as he ran shirtless out the door.

“You’ll pay for this!” He yelled, causing the three men to look on curiously.

“Actually you did sir, thanks for the tip love!” You yelled.

“Fucking asshole.” You added under your breath.

“Who was that?” Michael asked as you got in their car.

“Just a joyride love. Don’t worry about it.” You said, not bothering to filter yourself as Thomas smirked slightly. You we’re definitely Polly’s daughter. There was no doubt about it.

As you all neared Polly’s house you and Michael exchanged a nervous look with each other, knowing you might as well have forgotten her since it’s been so long. Your adoptive parents never mentioning her unless you started acting up. But the vague memories you did have always swirled around in your mind.

“Here we are. She said you could stay there with her if that’s something you both want. But I’ll let you both go on.” Thomas said, helping you both up to the apartment.

You knocked hard on the door, your hands shaking as you looked to the ground. You hoped for this day for years but you never thought it would happen so soon.

“Do ya want me to help em’ wit their bags Tom?” Johnny whispered from the car as he watched the woman standing nervously with her brother.

“No. Just stay in the car.” He said, bringing the rest of the bags up to them as Polly opened the door.

“My god...” she said, her hair a bit disheveled as she adjusted her dress and shawl around her shoulders.

“Mum? H-hi. Um....it’s me...Y/N...and Michael.” You said with a small smile on your face.

She didn’t say anything, instead just rushing forward and enveloping you both in a hug as Thomas stood by awkwardly.

“Thank you. Tommy my god thank you.” She said, giving him a short hug as well as you and Michael made your way inside the lavish apartment.

“Just make sure you’re all at the office early tomorrow alright? We’ll have a family meeting.” He said, a small smile on his face that hadn’t been there in ages.

“We will.” Polly said, waving him and Johnny off as she closed the door behind her.

“Now Michael...I know you don’t know me very well. But I want you to know I’m here for you always alright? You too Y/N. I can’t believe I have you back.” She said giving you each a tight hug as you wiped tears from your eyes.

As the night went on you all both gradually settled in, Polly agreeing to let you go to your apartment when you wanted since you were of age. But for now you accepted your place here, wanting to get to know the woman you’ve searched for all your life.

“Michael...it’s alright if I call you that right?” She asked hesitantly.

“Mhmm. I-I guess it’s growing on me. Never felt much like a Henry.” He said, unpacking his things.

“Right, well I’ll leave you two for the night. I’ll be expecting you both up early for Tommy’s meeting tomorrow. Welcome to the family.” She said, her mind racing as she left the room. Her heart slowly mending back together after being torn to pieces so many years ago.

---

At the shop the next morning, Michael and you both walked in a bit on edge, having gotten the rundown from Polly about what the business entailed on the way there. The workers around you eyeing you up as you lit a cigarette and walked past them in your heels and red overcoat. Michael looking around as well but with a smug smile on his face as he made acquaintances with the younger blinders rather quickly.

“Alright so the new members of the family as you lot can see are Y/N and Michael Gray. They’ve both confirmed they preferred their natural names so that’s what you’ll all call them. The papers and everything else are being sorted to give Polly any parental rights, and Michael...I have a proposition for you.” He said eyeing the young man who had a tough-yet laid back demeanor about him. The innocence of his past life slowly fading the longer he stayed in Birmingham.

“Alright. What is it Tommy?” He asked, smoking a cigarette carefully since he’d only done so once before at college.

“You’re going with us to the races. After we see what you’re made of, I’ll consider you for an accounting position.” He said.

“Sounds good to me.” He said swallowing hard and looking towards his mother.

“It doesn’t bloody sound good to me. I’ve just gotten my children back and you want to put them through some peaky initiation?” Polly snapped at her nephew. Ada, Arthur, John, and Finn looking at you and your brother with curious eyes during the awkward silence that ensued.

“It’s the only way Pol’ he’ll be fine.” Thomas said flatly, his voice still void of emotion.

“What will I be doing? I can’t stay cooped up here all day.” You said, blowing a cloud of smoke from your lips as you stared down your blue eyed devil of a cousin.

“Well, you could work here with the rest of us or you could work with the Lee’s and the rest down at their stop. Think of it as being a liaison for us.” He said.

You looked around at the dark and cramped place, your mothers familiar eyes knowing what you’d pick. You were an adult and had been on your own for many years, knowing full well how to handle yourself for the most part and besides, if you got to get out in the open air for a while it wouldn’t be half bad.

“I can do that. Just tell me how to get there and I’ll go.” You said. Thomas handing you a map as he grabbed his car keys.

“You can still stay at the house you know.” Polly said as you gathered your things.

“I know mum. I’ll be back, it’s just work. Don’t worry.” You said giving her a hug and Michael a fake punch on the shoulder as you waltzed out the door.

“It’s better if I go with you. You don’t know them.” Thomas said, opening the door for you.

“....alright. Do I need to do anything before we go?” You asked.

“Just please tell me you know how to shoot a gun.” He said, starting the car.

“Just point and shoot right? I remember one thing before dad died and that was going hunting with him in the woods. Just that once.” You said.

“That should be good enough. Take this.” He said, handing you a small handgun from his jacket.

“Do I have to kill anyone?” You asked, the thought making a shiver run down your spine slightly.

“Only if they come after ya or the family.” He said.

You nodded your head silently as you understood. You’d heard of the blinders while being in London, and from Polly’s rundown before getting to the shop, but you’d never thought you’d be related to them in such a way. But maybe this was the start you’d needed. At least now you weren’t making a living off cleaning houses and singing in taverns.

“Here we are.” He said after a long while of silence. Your eyes adjusting to the bright sunlight that spread across the vacant land where a slew of vardo’s were parked. Bonfires lit near them as they sat around the flames. Various animals roasting on a spit as music played in the distance.

“This is where I’ll be?” You asked, not seeing an actual brick and mortar house in sight. But remembering bits and pieces of the old vardo you had grew up briefly in with your mum. Her late teenaged self doing the best she could to care for the three of you young children.

“Mhm.” He mumbled as he led you through the tall grass to the people you’d be spending most of your working days around.

“There they are! What a sight! How are ya Tom?” Johnny asked rather loudly, a smile dancing across his face as he greeted you with a quick kiss to your hand.

“Good. Y/N here is going to be staying every few days or so. She’s the new liaison between the families here. Teach her what ya know and show her where she can call from. She’ll be reporting to me about anything going on that may need our attention. Think of it as security aye?” He said, eyeing Johnny as he stared slightly at the gorgeous woman.

“Will do, will do. Say let’s get you shown around, we have a place for ya all set up.” He said, taking your hand in his which made you smile. A flush of red hitting your cheeks as you looked on at your new place of work.

“Don’t do anything stupid Johnny.” Thomas said threateningly, knowing he could sense that Johnny had some feelings for his cousin.

“No worries Tom.” He said, tipping his cap to him as he led you to a vacant vardo.

“So what’s a woman as beautiful as you doin’ round these parts anyway? Did Polly drive ya off already?” He asked, setting your luggage down.

“No. I volunteered to come out here. Didn’t wanna be cooped up in that old dusty building.” You said, brushing a stray hair behind your ear.

“Well you’re in luck, darlin’. No dusty buildings here. Just a few snakes though.” He said as you jumped slightly, eyes making a mad-dash to the ground.

“I’m just messing with ya, doll.” He said, leaning up against the back steps.

“Is it hard being out here all the time? I know a few bars in London we could go to sometime. Get ya out for bit.” You said looking into his brown eyes that glowed almost golden in the bright afternoon sun.

“Not as hard when we have pretty women such as yourself here. Say...I’ll take ya up on that offer. How ‘bout later this week after we show ya the ropes?” He asked.

“Sounds good.” You said, smiling as you helped him carry things to the pond nearby. Children running around and skipping stones as you both made small talk while washing various clothes.

“How long do you all stay out here? It’s beautiful.” You said after a while of learning how to do various chores.

“Oh about a month or so. Never too long in one place in case the coppers come by bootin’ us out. We belong to ourselves, not to them. The sooner you learn that the better off you’ll be here aye?” He said, a hint of warning in his voice.

“Did someone tip you off one day? I’d never do that. I’m just working for Tommy and me mum.” You said, never wanting to come between anyone’s business.

“Yeah. Lost a few people a couple years back. Wasn’t good. But that’s all done now. New beginnings aye Y/N?” He said raising his flask to your glass of whiskey as you all sat near the pond.

“To new beginnings.” You said, staring off into the sky as you realized you’d be here more often than you’d thought.

---

The next few weeks seemed to fly by as you got used to living half there and half at Polly’s place. It was a hard decision but one you felt deep down needed to be made as you sold your apartment in London to be closer to your mum and Michael. Turns out he wasn’t as good and innocent as he’d claimed to be, gradually going on business with the boys and coming back high as a kite on cocaine. It was something even you hadn’t done in a long while, and something you swore one night to never do again after a bad spill landed you in the doctors. So it was safe to say your hard partying days were over, except for when it came to Johnny.

Over the course of the few weeks you’d been working together and updating Tommy on the business there, you grew closer and developed feelings for the rowdy traveler. Johnny’s smile and snarky remarks always bringing a wide grin to your face when you’d hear him with the lads or when you’d both go off drinking with people at the camp. But unfortunately, good things seemed to come to an end once the month was up, seeing as Tommy visited at a bad time one night and caught the two of you together. You’d been slightly embarrassed, but didn’t think he had it in him to ruin a good thing. But ruining things was Tommy’s specialty.

The night was abruptly ended when he dragged a naked Johnny away from you and threatened to terminate both of your positions with the company if things continued. But you were stubborn and strong willed just like your mother, and kept seeing him anyways even if it meant you were out of the company.

“I don’t see why I can’t love one man Pol’ Tommy’s gone and probably fucked every woman in town! He’ll he has enough children by various women to worry about already and here he is worrying about what I do with my life and my time?” You yelled as you packed your things away. You’d discussed moving out there with Johnny to spare the family drama. Thomas could tell you liked it out there and he had to admit, you gave him good information on people you’d come across, even if it was by letter or by pay phone more often than in person. And Polly knew you were like her, wanting to be free to do whatever you pleased and as much as it pained her to see you leave for a life on the road, she loved that you were the only one who kept that spirit alive. The only one who decided to throw away the silver spoon you’d been fed with half your life, to live for yourself and for a man that made you happy, even if he worked for the blue eyed devil himself.

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[let-the-dream-begin]

A Family of Our Own: Chapter 2

Chapter 1

Read on AO3

May, 1754

Claire was in her garden with Maggie. Brianna and Kitty were supposed to be helping as well, but they were a bit preoccupied chasing chickens and making the dogs bark their heads off.

“I don’t want to hear it if either of you get bitten!” Claire called over her shoulder.

“We won’t, Mummy!” Brianna said, exasperated.

Claire turned back to face Maggie again, and the girl shook her head.

“Ye canna stop them,” she said. “No’ until it’s too late.”

“You’re too right.”

Claire was just about to demonstrate something for Maggie when the sound of a horse’s hooves caught her ear.

“Girls! Get the dogs inside!” They obeyed, turning it into another game of sorts to corral the beasts. She didn’t want the dogs spooking the horse and throwing whoever the rider was to the ground. It was midday, and they weren’t expecting any visitors. Claire squinted down the road, wiping her hands free of dirt on her apron, her throat clenching on instinct at the sight of a flash of red. Her nerves settled however, when she remembered.

Once a quarter.

Apparently it was time for Jamie’s first visit from Lord John Grey.

“Who is it, then?” Jenny appeared on the porch, flanked by the girls, including Janet this time, all having realized that getting the dogs inside could only mean a visitor on horseback.

“It’s Lord Grey,” Claire said, returning to Maggie’s side.

“Lord ha’ mercy,” Jenny breathed. “Inside, girls. Now.”

“He won’t hurt anybody,” Claire said, furrowing her brow. “There’s no need to worry. Jamie trusts him.”

“That makes one of us,” Jenny said, her jaw hard, and her eyes fierce. “Inside,” she said again, and Maggie trudged past Claire to obey her mother.

“Wait, Brianna,” Claire called, stopping her from joining the throng.

“Are ye mad, sister?”

“I want her to meet him,” Claire said lightly. “It’s about time she meets a respectable Englishman,” she reasoned, with no little disdain directed at the assortments of horrible Englishmen they’d been harassed by over the years. “Besides, he’s a friend of her father.”

“Respectable and English dinna belong in the same sentence,” Jenny grumbled, ushering the girls inside.

“Should I take offense to that?” Claire said testily, putting one hand on her hip and the other on Brianna’s shoulder.

“I’ll let ye know in a bit.” She gestured with her chin, and Claire turned around to see the horse crossing the threshold of the archway. She was surprised by his appearance; she didn’t know why. Perhaps it was because he bore little to no resemblance to the scrawny young lad from all those years ago. His face was kind and gentle; his eyes held both quiet mirth and an impenetrable sadness. He was slender but still finely muscled, the makings of a good soldier.

“Good day, Madame,” he said, slowing his horse to a stop. “Is this Broch Tuarach?”

“That it is,” Claire answered.

The man paused for a moment, blinking back something that was seemingly shock, his lips parting silently, then closing. “Well,” he said, awed. “I do believe I’m in the presence of the Englishwoman I’ve heard so very much about.”

He dismounted, keeping hold on the reins. He bowed lowly, bringing his tricorn hat to his chest, maintaining eye contact all the while. “Lord John Grey,” he said. “I am entirely at your service, Ma’am.”

“Claire Fraser,” she answered, curtsying, keeping one hand on Brianna’s shoulder. “And I do believe it is I who is at your service, my Lord. You’re the reason I’m no longer a widow, after all.”

He smiled, almost seeming uncomfortable as he put his hat back in place. “Yes, well, it was the least I could do,” he said. “And this is?”

“Brianna Fraser,” Claire said proudly, nudging the girl a bit so that she’d curtsy. “My daughter. Jamie’s daughter.”

“My God,” John breathed, his eyes wide with wonder. “No wonder she’s his spitting image. He never mentioned…”

“He never knew,” Claire said sadly. “I wasn’t showing until after Culloden. She was quite the surprise.” Claire gripped both of Brianna’s shoulders.

“Indeed,” John said. “Well, Mistress Fraser, it is a pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

“The pleasure is all mine,” Brianna answered, her normally hybrid speech entirely posh, her nose stuck in the air. Claire briefly contemplated that perhaps her daughter was mocking John’s Englishness, but she quickly dismissed the thought.

“She doesn’t have the burr, then?” John said, amused.

“She has whatever she wants in the moment,” Claire said with a chuckle. “She’s quite the impressionist. Isn’t that right, darling?”

“Indeed, Mother,” she said in the same tone, staring John down, or up, rather.

Both of the adults chuckled, perhaps a bit uncomfortably.

“This is one of Da’s dearest friends, Brianna,” Claire said cheerily, squeezing her shoulders and looking down at her. “He’s the reason that he came home to us. I’d like it if we were all friends. Wouldn’t you?”

“I should indeed love to make the acquaintance of one of the King’s finest,” Brianna said rather obnoxiously, drawling the vowels like a veritable fop. “Even if he’s a bloody Redcoat,” she added, not skipping a beat, her accent remaining perfect.

“Brianna — !”

“John!”

Before Claire could scold her daughter’s behavior, Jamie came running from the side of the house, trailed closely by Rabbie, likely along to take care of John’s horse. John smiled uncomfortably at Claire before turning to greet Jamie as he quickly approached. Claire was rather shameless in how she admired her husband, glistening as he was with sweat from a long day in the fields, curls damp and wild, shirt slightly stained at the collar and clinging to him despite its loose fitting, exposing the overworked muscles beneath. She had to remind herself there was company, including that of their small daughter.

Dragging her eyes off of her husband’s beautifully made body, she immediately noticed she was not the only one aware of said beauty.

John immediately changed when Jamie came into view, in ways that Claire could not exactly put her finger on. He seemed lighter, as if being fed for the first time after months of starvation.

Christ...this isn’t attraction.

This man is in love with my husband.

“Christ, man, it’s good to see ye,” Jamie said enthusiastically, shaking John’s hand with fervor. “Ye’ve met her then? Ye met my wife? And my child?”

Any insecurity that had just seized Claire’s heart upon her realization melted away, and she strode contentedly to meet Jamie, pulling Brianna along by the hand. She smiled, standing at Jamie’s side and settling herself into him, warming to her core as Jamie draped an arm over her shoulder. She reveled in the smell of him; dirt, manure, sweat, and Jamie, his general masculinity.

“Yes, I’ve had the pleasure,” John said, smiling more genuinely at Claire. “Beautiful, both of them.”

“Thank ye, a charaid.” Jamie was warm against her, flushing with pride. “Can ye imagine? I had a bairn all those years and I hadnae a single clue.”

“I can’t imagine,” John said. “You must have been overjoyed.”

“Aye.” Jamie looked down at me, catching my eye sweetly, then winked down at Brianna. “She is...they both are my greatest joys.”

“It does my heart good to see you so happy, Jamie,” John’s voice became soft and light, his eyes glistening. “To have seen you through such pain, then to see you like this…” He stopped himself, seemingly overcome. Claire threaded her arm around Jamie, grasping at his side. “It’s overwhelming.”

“It is,” Jamie agreed. “There are still days I canna believe it’s true. I’m overwhelmed near every day at my luck. And it’s because of you, John. You are the reason I’ve got them back.”

He grasped John’s hand, tightly. Claire felt herself go flush, and she tightened her grip on Jamie’s side despite herself.

“I’d do it again and again, Jamie, no matter the risk.”

Their hands remained clasped together, and they maintained eye contact, and Claire suddenly felt like an unwelcome voyeur to something she did not fully understand.

He told me nothing happened. He told me nothing happened. He—

“Mummy,” Brianna piped, still not dropping her put-on airs. “I would quite enjoy something to eat.”

“Christ, a nighean, why’re ye speaking like yer mother?” Jamie wrinkled his nose down at Brianna, finally releasing John’s hand.

Brianna shot a look at John, her nostrils flared. “I’m hungry.”

“Alright, lovie. Go inside and ask Mary MacNab for something from the kitchen. We’ll be in.”

Claire briefly brushed a few curls away from Brianna’s face before the girl scampered inside, apparently all too eager to get away.

“I’m sorry…” Claire said once Brianna was inside. “She’s not normally so rude.”

“She was rude?” Jamie furrowed his brow.

“Before you got here, she called him a bloody Redcoat.”

Jamie snorted, then smiled crookedly at John. “Well, she isna wrong.”

Claire pinched Jamie’s side, causing him to jerk a bit.

“She also was most certainly mocking his speech,” Claire said. “She does that sometimes, impersonates the Redcoats that come by. To make her cousins laugh. I suppose she thought she’d try doing it to your face since she knows you’re a friend.”

“Yes, well,” John dipped his head a bit, clasping his hands behind his back. “I can’t say I blame her. I’ve heard brutal things.”

“Aye. My family suffered many an indignity in my absence at the hand of some Redcoat or another,” Jamie said, tightening his grip on Claire. “My brother-in-law told me Claire was beaten.”

“Oh, Jamie,” Claire said. “I wish he hadn’t…”

“No, I’m glad he did. Because if he ever returned — ”

“I know Lord John is a friend,” Claire interrupted quickly. “But perhaps it’s best either way to...refrain. From what you’re about to say. Or anything similar.”

Jamie nodded, tight-lipped. “Aye. Well, ye get the idea. The wean’s trust has been broken. Hers and the rest of my family, unfortunately. My sister is none too pleased ye’re here.”

“Brianna has had to lie to protect me, us, all her life,” Claire said softly. “She saw me bruised and bloodied after that beating. She’s...she’s only eight. Back then she was only six. It’s...difficult to conceptualize a ‘good Redcoat’. For everyone, not just her.”

“I understand,” John said. “Believe me, I do. The last thing I want is to make anybody uncomfortable. I’ll just fill out the report and be on my way.”

“Ye mean just leave?” Jamie said, incredulous. “I’ll no’ have that. Ye’ve been traveling fer days, no doubt, no’ a home-cooked meal in sight.”

“Well, yes — ”

“And beds at an inn arena so comfortable, I ken it well.”

“Stay the night?” Claire said, perhaps a little too abruptly. “Do you think that’s the best idea? You know...Jenny?” she added quickly.

Not because I’m threatened...because of Jenny.

“Jenny can hang,” Jamie said, genially. “This man sacrificed his own safety to see me home. Right this minute he’s putting himself in danger, knowing as he does I’m no Mister Malcolm. The least we can do fer him is give him some leisure, good food, and a warm bed. Fer one night.”

Claire sighed. “Alright. But you are talking to Jenny.”

John chuckled, oblivious as to just how much he should fear Janet Fraser Murray.

“Speaking of Mister Malcolm, should I mention a Mistress Malcolm in my report?” John asked.

“Well...the other officers who’ve come by know me as a Fraser cousin, and a Scot at that,” Claire said uneasily. “Elizabeth Fraser.”

“I suppose I could say Mister Malcolm was made a widower during his time in prison, and that he’s remarried to the previously unmarried Fraser cousin. Would that make it easier for you both to live your lives together?”

Jamie and Claire exchanged a look. “What d’ye think, mo ghraidh? Any interest in being Mrs. Malcolm?”

She hummed an amused laugh. “It would be an honor.”

He leaned in to kiss her sweetly, and Claire was so swept up in the moment, she nearly forgot John was standing right in front of them.

“I thank ye, John,” Jamie said warmly.

“We thank you,” Claire corrected, smiling at John while embracing Jamie, “my friend.”

“It is a privilege to be known as such by such a woman,” John said with a small bow of his head.

“Shall I show ye around the grounds, then?” Jamie said, excited. “The lads are in the fields waiting fer me to return, but they can surely wait. Fergus can lead.”

“Fergus. Your son?” John said, as if recalling.

“Aye,” Jamie said, swelling with pride. “Ye’ll meet him at supper.”

Claire nearly offered to show John around herself so that Jamie may get back to work, but she knew that he was proud of his ancestral home and that he would find great joy in showing his friend all there was to see.

But she was too curious to pass up the opportunity to be alone with John for a few minutes.

“Why don’t you tell the lads you won’t be back so they’re not waiting for you? The last thing we need is Jenny’s wrath that productivity was slowed for all this,” Claire said.

“Aye, ye’re right.”

“We’ll wait for you in the stables, I’ll show him the stock.”

Jamie made a Scottish noise of approval, squeezing Claire to him and kissing her temple before darting off to the fields.

“Shall we?”

Claire looked up to see that John was offering her his arm. She curtsied slightly before accepting, fitting her arm in the crook of his elbow before heading off around the house and toward the stables.

“You have no idea how often he spoke of you,” John said, seemingly out of nowhere. “He loves you dearly.”

“I know,” Claire said. “I can assure you it is equally returned. Believing him dead was...nothing short of horrific. For eight years.”

“I am sorry,” John said, sincerely. “If there were a way to get word to you safely…”

“Please, don’t. You’ve risked yourself enough as it is.” Claire gave his arm a squeeze, offering him a reassuring smile.

A small silence passed between them, nothing to be heard but the bleating of the goats, the clucking of the chickens, and the leaves rustling around them.

“You love him,” Claire said.

John stiffened against her, nearly stopping in his tracks. “No, I hardly know what — ”

“It wasn’t a question,” Claire said, strengthening her resolve a bit, hardening her jaw. “Jamie told me of your predilections.”

He made to pull away, panicked. “Madame, I — ”

“It’s alright, my Lord.” Claire tightened her grip, not letting him get away. “Where I come from...such things are not so taboo.”

He gawked at her. “I’d certainly like to know where that is.”

“It’s...hard to explain,” Claire said wistfully.

John cleared his throat. “How...how much did he tell you?”

“He told me of your friend that you lost. Which…I am sorry for that loss.”

“Thank you,” he said, his voice tight.

“And he told me how you...looked at him. And now that you’re here...I see it.” Claire looked away, staring ahead at the stables as they came into closer view. “You look at him the way he looks at me.”

“I…” John sighed. “I don’t know what to say.”

“I’m not sure either.” Claire kept her gaze ahead, uncomfortably aware of their closeness. “In a way, selfishly...I’m glad you love him so much. Because that’s what brought him back to me. But it’s...cruel, isn’t it?”

“How is that?”

“Because he...he’s not…” Claire almost stopped, as John nearly had before. “He isn’t. Is he?”

John chuckled softly, smiling sadly. “There were a few times where I thought perhaps he might be. But his heart belongs to only one.”

Claire could feel his eyes on her, so she turned her head, making uncomfortable eye contact. “So you really never…”

“No, Madame, I did not. We did not.” He did stop then, looking at her seriously. “I’d never met you, of course, but I’d not be able to live with myself if I was part of betraying you.” He started walking again, his more serious point made. “I confess I hardly even had the desire, knowing as I did how madly he loves you.”

“Hardly?” Claire’s brow furrowed.

“Well…” She could feel the heat from his blush radiating off of him. “I couldn’t say never. That would be a lie. And I do pride myself on my honesty.” His words were clipped and terse; Claire almost regretted bringing it up. “You could say the mind was willing, but the flesh was weak. In a way.”

Claire nodded slowly, staring ahead again. “If it...weren’t for me. Would you have?”

She felt him stiffen again. “No. It would be an abuse of my power over him. Such a thing would be despicable.”

Despite his discomfort, Claire could hear the genuineness in his voice. It was a comfort to know, but that still wasn’t what she meant.

“What if...that wasn’t an issue?” she pressed further. “Would you have?”

She heard him swallow. “Well...yes. I’d have tried.”

Claire nodded. “Would he…?”

“You know him better than I do,” John said, not a hint of malice. He meant it.

“I’m...I’m not so sure about that,” Claire said, sounding more sad than she’d meant to. “I just mean it’s...it’s been eight years. A lot of things can change in that time. People change.”

“While that may be true, Madame Fraser, one thing has not changed,” he stopped again, turning to face her, taking both of her hands in his, “and that is the love he bears you. That I can assure you.”

Claire forced a smile, gratefully squeezing his hand.

“God, you are a dreadfully forward woman,” he said, chuckling.

“I’ve always been terribly honest,” she said sheepishly.

“While frightening, I don’t find that necessarily a detriment,” he said lightly. He offered his arm again, and she took it much less hesitantly, leading the rest of the way to the stables.

“Do you know that I bear you no ill will?” John said rather suddenly. “I realize how shallow of a promise that may seem, given that you have everything I’ve ever wanted and could never have. But it’s true.” Claire felt shame burning in her core to think of her initial reaction to the depth of John’s feelings. “Do you know what I said to Jamie after he was freed?”

“Cherish that wife of yours, Fraser,” Claire quoted fondly. “He told me.”

“Did he tell you why I said it?”

“No?”

“He asked me what he could do to repay me,” John said.

Claire felt an unexpected rush of tears, suddenly overcome with something resembling pity, mixed with immense gratitude. She squeezed his arm and looked at him.

“Thank you, my Lord.”

“John,” he corrected lightly. “Please.”

“Then I’m Claire,” she echoed, “John.”

“Alright, Claire.”

They finally reached the stables, and Claire took the initiative to introduce him to all of the horses. Rabbie was in a stall with John’s horse, still brushing the beast down as he gnawed on his hay. John was absolutely tickled when Claire introduced Alastair as Brianna’s horse.

“Takes after her father, then?”

“Quite. She’d been begging me to ride since she could talk. I delayed it for years because of her condition.”

“Condition?” John’s brow furrowed, concerned.

“Oh, she’s perfectly healthy. Just...leftover complications from a difficult birth. If she fell it could kill her. I’m just...paranoid.”

“I see,” John said, though he still seemed concerned. “Does Jamie know?”

“Do I know what?” Jamie appeared in the doorway of the stables.

“Brianna’s condition,” Claire said, welcoming Jamie back into her arms.

“Oh, aye, I ken all about that,” Jamie said. “She’s a fighter, my daughter. Braw wee thing.”

“I can tell,” John said, smiling knowingly.

“Alright,” Jamie said, taking the place that John had just had, settling Claire’s arm in the crook of his elbow. “Ye’re acquainted wi’ the beasts, aye? Shall we move on to the rest of the land?”

Claire and John exchanged a fond look before both looking up at Jamie.

“We shall,” John said.

[jimlingss]

Moirai [5]

Chapter 4 - Chapter 5 - Chapter 6

➜ Words: 5k

➜ Genres: 60% Fluff, 40% Angst, Isekai!AU

➜ Summary: Death is supposed to be the end. Or at least that's what you assumed when you're hit by a TRUCK. But the moment you open your eyes again, instead of being sent to the afterlife, you've become a baby. And not just any baby. You're the female villain of a video game.

“Thank you for inviting me, Lady Anastasia.”   Lucienne sits across the rounded table from you, oblivious to the blossom petals that have drifted down and tangled itself into her hair. The tea party invitation rests beside her teacup, neat and crisp like she held and opened it with the utmost care.    “Yes, thank you.” The other lady beside her pipes up. “It’s an absolute honour.”   “The Royal gardens are lovely this season,” another adds. “I’m glad I can enjoy it like this.”   “It’s not a problem, everyone.” A friendly smile stretches across your face. “It can get quite lonely being the only lady in the castle, so your company is welcome.”   More like Lady Devon and your other tutors was pretty damn insistent that you build a good reputation and inner circle, but whatever. What they don’t know, won’t hurt them.   But you do remember that in the original game, Anastasia used this opportunity to shame the heroine. She invited her to a tea party and made snide remarks about how she danced with the Prince. Of course it seems petty now but it’s understandable that Anastasia resented the heroine so much. Even if she didn’t intend it, she humiliated Anastasia by stealing her fiancé.   And the fact of the matter is that you’ll also become the laughingstock for what she’ll do.   “If I may ask, have you started the wedding arrangements yet, Lady Anastasia?”   You nearly choke on your tea, sputtering for a moment until you’re able to set the cup down on the saucer and cough into your napkin. The ladies around the table appear concerned, but you plaster on another smile. “Well, there’s been no discussion yet. The Royal family and the Devereux house are in no rush. There’s still quite a bit of time, so who knows what could happen.”   “What could happen?” One of them catches on quick and you cordially nod.   “The engagement was made when both Prince Jungkook and I were very young, but now that we are older, we can voice our own opinions on the matter.” You choose your words carefully and your smile widens. “I am not opposed if changes are made. If the leaders of the empire cannot exercise their own freedoms, then how can the people?”    They nod in agreeance, a few in awe at your deep thought process. “That is very mature of you, Lady Anastasia.”   You laugh stiffly and lift your tea cup for another sip.   “Oh, but the Crown Prince is so wonderful.”   You choke. Again. You wonder if you’re going to die at this tea party from the warm liquid constantly going down the wrong pipe.    “I am sure he wouldn’t change his mind with how lovely you are, Lady Anastasia.” The girl beside you smiles, laying it on thick to win your favour. “You two are a very fitting couple.”   “I agree.” Lucy smiles softly. “Prince Jungkook is very courteous.”   “And very majestic.”   You remember when you dueled with Jungkook, he lost within a minute. He threw a tantrum in the following days and gave you the silent treatment. Or that time you went horseback riding, you decided to race each other and he fell off his own horse into mud and started crying.   Uh-huh. Majestic indeed.   You chalk up your wheeze to nothing and dab the corner of your mouth with the tablecloth napkin. “Yes, well, Jungkook will make a fine King someday.”   “And you’ll make a fine Queen,” a soft-spoken voice pipes up and your eyes connect to Lucy’s. Unlike the others surrounding you, you know her words are genuinely spoken and you shift uncomfortably in your seat.   “I’m not so sure about that,” you honestly admit as you fidget with the edge of the porcelain saucer. “A queen must be kind and generous and know the suffering of the people. I’m afraid I have a lot left to learn.”   Your gaze meets Lucy’s again.   Her smile is all too gentle for high society and its naturally cunning, heartless nature. She’s awfully naive, but that aside, you know her benevolence will make her beloved in the empire.   //   Once the tea party is over, you’re able to breathe a sigh of relief. Christ, thank god that’s over.   You escort most of the ladies towards their carriages, bidding them goodbye with polite waves as the palace servants clear the dishes, chairs and table away from the garden. And you turn around to head back to your room to sneak in a break, but your name is frantically called—   “Lady Anastasia!”   You turn and a girl in her purple, simple gown comes barrelling down the open hall. Her chest rises and falls, completely out of breath even when she only ran two meters. It makes you laugh unabashedly. “Is everything okay? You don’t need to run.”   She hunches over, lungs probably burning, but she fixes her posture a moment later. “S-Sorry, my lady.”   “Anastasia is fine.”   Lucy nods. “I...just wanted to thank you again. I was very excited when I received your invitation. It’s an honour….Anastasia.”   “There’s no reason to thank me so much.” You walk alongside her. Your hat with pinned pink peonies, matching your gown, shields the sun away from your face.   “It’s just that I don’t get invited to these sort of events often considering….considering I’m just a baron’s daughter and adopted one at that.”   She doesn’t need to tell you — you know her backstory well. You’ve played through it from her perspective. Her father abandoned her mother who died of illness when she was five and she was picked up on the streets by the sympathetic baron. It seems like every character in this game has some tragic backstory. They are defining moments that make that person.   But you suppose life itself is like that.   “Can I give you some advice, Lucy?” you ask after a quiet moment and she nods. You stop walking and the girl halts beside you. “Your humility makes you likeable, but be careful not to self-deprecate yourself. Your worth is more than what you consider yourself to have.”   Her eyes widen and you add, “Plus, it’s not good to thank a host more than once like they’ve done you a big favour because they’ll start to think you owe them for it.”   Lucy nods and you smile, resuming your stroll. “I’ll be inviting you to more tea parties in the future.”   “Thank—” She catches herself. “Yes, I will be looking forward to that.”   A grin spreads into your cheeks. “On a different note, I never got to ask you how your dance was with Jungkook at the debutante ball.”   “Oh, yes, the Prince was very kind. But I’m sorry if it was inappropriate, I know he’s your fiancé—”   This time, your laugh is unrestrained. She looks up at you in surprise. “Do you think I’m getting jealous?” Lucy opens her mouth and then closes it, not sure what to say and you bat the air with your hand. “Jungkook is like a little brother to me.”   If she was surprised before, now she looks entirely off guard. “It thought the Prince and you were the same age.”   You laugh stiffly. “Yes, we are, but I guess that’s what childhood friends are like.”   “Oh, I’ve never had a childhood friend.”   “Have you ever had a friend?” Your eyes meet her’s and you smile. “Because I’d be happy to be your first.”   The conversation soon ends and as Lucy walks away, you breathe another sigh of relief and pat yourself on the back at the positive interaction. Even if she’s just a countryside girl, it’s nerve-racking when you’re supposed to be the villainess. You like her and you even offered your friendship, but with each interaction, your demise is always lingering at the back of your head.   “I didn’t take you for being such a mentor.”   You whirl around, nearly startled to death by the voice and you discover a tall, dark-haired man leaning against the marble pillar with a sly smile.   “How long have you been there?”   Taehyung grins. “Not long. I was just passing by. It was a coincidence.” He turns in the direction where Lucy went. “I heard you had a tea party, how did it go?”   “It was exhausting.” You stretch your arms over your head and walk over to lean against the stone ledge next to him. “I don’t think I’m quite fit for the palace life.”   Taehyung smiles and you look up at him. “Are you going to the garden again?”   He nods and there’s a strong urge to ask him if you can come along. Just for a small break before they find you and you’re swept up in another lesson. But you’re not sure if you should—   “Would you like to come?”    Taehyung asks the question for you and your eyes meet one another’s.   There’s no one around. Not a soul in sight who could stop you from going or leaving.   You know you should keep your distance from him. You know. But…   “Okay.”   You take him up on the offer, following after him, just for a moment of indulgence.

With the arrival of Spring also comes the Hunt. It’s a rather eventful time in the castle considering it's generally symbolic of the harvests of this year, thought to prevent famine if those attending can bring back large game. An irony that isn’t lost on you. But it’s an undoubtedly lively time and one that you don’t mind.   “You better bring back a whole moose,” you mumble as you tie the blue ribbon on the belt of Jungkook’s armour, making sure it’s tight and secure. The ribbon is a gift of good luck and one of affection. You’re obligated to tie one for Jungkook considering you’re his fiancée.    “I’ll bring back a dragon,” he declares brazingly and you lightly scoff.   This is his second time participating after winning last year, but you remember he was practically shaking back then out of fear and pressure.   “Okay then. Just make sure you don’t fall off your horse this time.”    “That was only once!”   You take a step back when you’re done tying the ribbon. “I should be the one going on the hunt instead of staying back for idle chit chat. I’m pretty sure I would be able to catch something bigger than you.”   “Probably.” Jungkook grins. “You’re good enough with your sword to be a knight.”   “They’d never let me.” You sigh. God knows your mother would be mortified and probably faint and die.    But while staying back and waiting for the men to return with their kill is boring as hell, at least you’re removed from the pressure of having to hunt large prey in the first place. It’s a competition after all and one that can get quite competitive from your knowledge.   You follow Jungkook to his prized white horse and watch him caress its muzzle.    “If you win, you should give the prize to Lucy.”   His brows furrow and he turns his head to you. “Lucienne? The girl I danced with at the ball? Why?”   You shrug half-heartedly. “Because she has no one and I feel bad for her. I already have a few knights who are going to dedicate their game to me.”   Jungkook hums, not thinking much about it. “Fine by me.”   He puts his foot on the stirrup and swings himself over, sitting on top of the majestic horse.   Preparations almost complete, you turn to the King who’s seated at the top of the stands in a throne-like chair. He looks across the field with an approving expression.   Your parents are beside the King and you spare them a mere glance before turning away. You haven’t spoken to them since the end of the debutante ball and you don’t plan to. It might be childish to give them the silent treatment, but you wonder to what end they’ll try to force you.   The attendant steps up. “Is everyone ready?”   At that exact same moment, as if he was called upon, a familiar dark-haired man with eyes the hue of deep honey enters your peripheral vision. Taehyung emerges onto the field filled with knights on horses and soldiers in armour. His navy cape draped over his left shoulder sways with each movement, twinkling in the sunlight as if there were stars sewn into the fabric. He’s grasping onto a steel pole, a magical staff and his presence garners whispers from all.   “Isn’t he the bastard son?” — “The first son of the King.” — “The one born from the maid.”   They’re all startled to see him — the nobles sitting in the stands, women murmuring underneath their breaths, men watching with their eyes wide, knights and guards. And most of all, you’re stuck at a standstill.   Heart thunderous in your ears — blood drained from your face — you can’t look away when all Taehyung is looking at is you.    He comes close and his expression melts into a tender smile, a softened gaze when he reads your eyes’ fixation on him.    Jungkook, on the other hand, grins and mounts off his horse. “Taehyung?!” The Prince welcomes his brother warmly — an action not unnoticed by the crowds watching. He hugs him and lets go a moment later. “What are you doing here?”   “What can I say? I’m here to steal your victory.”   The younger laughs and you can tell he’s genuinely excited. Jungkook’s cheeks are practically pink and bulging, and his eyes have brightened. “Do you want to put a bet on that?”   “How much are you willing to wager?” Taehyung quips back.   “My pride and dignity.”   He scoffs playfully. “How about your private library collection?”   “Deal. And if I win, I want you to come to the feast tonight.”   Taehyung grins. “Looks like this year’s going to be difficult for you, Your Highness.”   “I’ll keep up.” Jungkook laughs again and gets back on his horse.   A stable-boy comes rushing over with a horse for Taehyung and before the King can utter a single word or you have a chance to speak to him, the games have begun. Taehyung glances over his shoulder at you for a single beat and then he’s off into the woods with the rest.    In the original game, Taehyung never participated in the Hunt.   He looked on from the window of his tower and even sabotaged Jungkook.    In the original game, Jungkook became injured but still conscious enough that before he fated, he declared he would give his prize to the heroine since Anastasia was so overbearing. It sparked the girl’s jealousy and was the reason why she decided to conspire with Taehyung. It was the first domino in the chain — the beginning of the villains working hand in hand.   But none of that is happening.   You wonder how far your choices will continue to deviate from the story. How many more mistakes—   “Are you alright, Anastasia?”   You jolt, torn out of your deep trance by a worried gaze. Lucy has leaned in towards you, her brows knitted together and you smile. “I’m fine. I was just thinking about something.” You quickly change the subject. “Have you given your ribbon to anyone yet?”   The pair of you are walking down the castle hall, heading towards the dining hall where you know the noble women will be having tea and making small talk while waiting for their sons and husbands.   Lucy shakes her head and unties the blue ribbon she had around her wrist.    “Why not?”   She stares at the soft satin for a second and then looks up at you, mustering a small smile. “I wouldn’t know who to give it to.”   “Well, you still have time to decide. You can give it to someone when they get back.” You hum to yourself. “How about giving it the Crown Prince?”   Lucy’s eyes are as large as saucers and she blinks thrice.   You’re a bit endeared with how surprised she seems at your suggestion. “Don’t you admire Prince Jungkook?”   “I...I do,” she admits quietly and peeks at you again. “But I wouldn’t want to overstep—”    “Not at all!” You reassure her. “Prince Jungkook likes the admiration. I’m sure he wouldn’t mind whatsoever. He might actually appreciate it.”   The girl smiles to herself and nods.   Evening sets in after meaningless conversations, cordial expressions and polite responses. The only interruptions are the horns that ring as each participant in the Hunt slowly arrives back.   Jungkook returns sweaty and out of breath, but with a whole moose like he promised. There are cheers and applauses, but more importantly, silent gasps when he beelines straight to Lucy to give her the prize. She blushes, a stuttering mess full of ‘thank yous’ and ‘it’s an honour’, and you discover Jungkook’s bashful behaviour at her sincere gratitude.    He scratches the back of his neck, diverts his vision, mutters ‘it’s fine’. It’s fascinating to watch considering he’s always been arrogant and bratty to you since the day you met him.   But you don’t get to observe their moment for long.   Not when the horns ring again and a figure appears over the horizon.    This time, no one moves. Truly stunned. Breaths hitched. Holy shit. Taehyung arrives back with a bear and he doesn’t even look like he’s broken a sweat.   “Wow!” Jungkook is the first to react, moving out of the crowd to his brother. He’s genuinely amazed and impressed, jaw dropped and brows shot to his hairline. “You did this?!”   “Didn’t I say I would win?” Taehyung grins languidly.   “This...is incredible!” Jungkook’s admiration for his brother causes the unsettled crowd to finally calm. It starts off slow, a clap here or there and then it’s applause, cheering and murmurs of acknowledgment.   “Has anyone ever brought a bear back before?” — “Did he use magic?” — “Why didn’t the eldest son participate in the Hunt before?”   And you know that it’s the first time people have clapped for Taehyung.   The attendant rushes forward, sputtering on his words. “T-The winner for this year’s Hunt is His Highness, Prince Taehyung!”   Taehyung wins a chest of gold, worth more than fifty commoner’s lifetimes and you watch as he bows his head as he receives it. You watch as he holds it and strides towards you. You watch until his arms have extended and a smile draws upon his features.   “What are you doing?” you ask, a whisper that’s befallen off your lips, spilled past the astonishment.    His gaze and smile never wavers. “I’m giving my prize to you.”   The crowd’s stirred to silence, watching the two of you, and you receive the wooden chest.   The attendant quickly announces the feast in the hall and servants begin ushering the people inside. But you continue watching Taehyung, your eyes connected to his, both grounded in the private bubble.   No one notices the King sitting on top of the stands, his brows tightly knitted.    //   The dining hall has shifted.   No longer are there laced tablecloths, towers of pastries and teapots from the afternoon. It’s large plates that have stretched along the surface, meats and cheese, breads and butters that have begun the feast. There are grandiose chairs all around three different tables, arranged based on importance and connections, conversations that have filled the enormous room.   The darkness of the night is casted away by the chandeliers overhead, illuminating the room in a golden hue. Yet, while each is high on the atmosphere, drunk by the wine, you can’t swallow the food down.    The tapping of utensils on glass has you looking over. The room simmers down.    By the coaxing of Jungkook beside him, Taehyung rises from his chair and clears his throat. It’s customary for the victor of the Hunt to give a speech and you’re guessing this is it.   “Thank you all for coming.” Taehyung appears unfamiliar and awkward addressing the crowd, quickly rushing over his words as if to get it done and over with. “I have never participated in the Hunt before this year and it was only because of beginners luck that I won. That—”    Suddenly, Taehyung looks right at you. “—and the support of those most important to me.”    Then, as quick as he stole his glance, he turns away. “I hope the harvests of Ashea will prosper this year.”   There’s thunderous applause and the feast resumes.   You’re overwhelmed, dizzy, the celebrations of the room getting to your head — laughter, questions, comments louder by ten decibels until it feels earsplitting.   You look over at Jungkook, finding that he has two blue ribbons pinned on his left side. He’s smiling widely, oblivious. Then, your head whirls over to your parents sitting down the table. They might have friendly smiles plastered on their features, but you can tell through their eyes that there’s seething anger. They’re unhappy, most likely with you, most likely with what happened earlier.   “Anastasia.” Lady Devon, who sits beside you, calls you out of your thoughts, disapproving at how your listening skills could be so poor.   You blink, pretending you were in deep thought about her discussion of silver forks and the corner of your mouth tugs. “If you’ll excuse me…”   After a delayed moment, she nods and you push your chair back, blurring into the massive paintings on the wall as you slip out to the terrace.   The night is cold.    Each exhale of yours is visible and you tug the soft pink shawl around your shoulders closer to your body for some warmth as you lean against the railings. You look up at the star-filled sky, finally able to calm yourself from the noise inside. You’ve always been glad that no matter where you are, what universe it is, there’s always the same sun, stars and moon. A constant.   One thing you don’t have to worry about.   “Is there something wrong?”   You know who it is before you’ve even turned around.    It’s a relief. You’ve waited all day to be able to speak to him, to be away from prying eyes and in a private moment. It’s easing. Your nerves take comfort in the familiarity, somehow finding his very presence soothing. Yet it’s unsettling at the same time. You have too many questions, too many suspicions and you don’t know if you want to uncover the truth.   But you gather your strength and face Taehyung. “I’m just thinking.”   “About what?”   Taehyung approaches your side. The warm light from inside the palace spills out and your shadows cast onto the grass beneath the terrace. There is not a soul in the hall when they’re all inside the dining hall, celebrations and conversations muffled through the many walls.   You inhale a breath. “Why?”   Taehyung frowns.   You ask again, “Why did you give me your prize?”   “Should I not have?”   Half of his face is illuminated, the slope of his nose and dip of his cupid’s bow sharp against the glow of the chandeliers, reminiscent of the chiaroscuro of a painting.   “That’s not it. Just…..” Why does he treat you so kindly, why does he want to go out of his way to talk to you, why does he look at you like that— “Why?”   In the original game, Anastasia was Taehyung’s chess piece and nothing more.   “Does there need to be a reason?” The corner of his mouth tugs gingerly. “I wanted to, so I did.”   “But there’s so many eligible bachelorettes you could’ve them them to, like Lady Myoi or Lady Paxton—”   “None of them matter,” he injects without needing to blink or think twice. “Not like you do.”   Your head snaps up and your eyes meet. Taehyung gazes at you tenderly, searching your irises with a small smile and he swallows hard. His voice lowers when he asks, “Are you cold?”    Oddly enough, even with the chilly wind whisking through the branches and swaying the leaves, you aren’t cold if he’s here.    Yet suddenly, Taehyung snaps his fingers and you’re engulfed with the warmth of an embrace. It’s the heat of a winter fire crackling underneath the mantle, the Summer sun casting down on your cheeks, and it travels from your toes to your head, and you can’t help the giggle that spills from you.    “What did you just do?”   He grins and leans closer to you. “It’s a simple warmth spell.”   Your brow cocks. “How much magic do you exactly know?”    He even managed to get that bear without looking like he had to fight. Your efforts to get him not to tap into magic all those years ago were in vain, but you have to admit it’s pretty cool.   Taehyung looks away, smile easing. “It doesn’t matter how much magic I have. It’s not enough for what I really want.”    Your breath hitches in your throat. The implications of his words welcomes the tension back into the air that had snuck itself away for a simple moment. But it isn’t uncomfortable. It isn’t the kind of tension that comes when you’re speaking to the Duke and Duchess, not the stiffness that arrived when you were being scolded by Edith. No. It’s different. It’s….intimate.    Especially when he sneaks a glance at you and you hold it, eyes fixated into his.   None of you speak, breathe, bat a lash. Not when Taehyung starts to lean in close. Not when you begin to feel the heat of his cheeks on your skin, when you can hear the thunderous noise of his heartbeat bruising his rib cage. His lash tickles yours. But before your lips can brush—   You push him away.   Taehyung stumbles back, nearly falling over, but he grasps the railings.   Your breath heaves and you stare at him in shock, in horror with what was about to happen. And before anything can be said or done, you turn away.   “Wait! Anastasia!” Taehyung calls after you. “I’m sorry!”   “I….I need to leave.”   You can’t deviate from the story more than you already have. This is a mistake.   In the midst of your panic, you return to the dining hall and cut through the room. It’s the quickest way back to your chambers, so you don’t hesitate to move your steps, never once looking behind your shoulder. Luckily, Taehyung doesn’t follow after you. He can’t.    But while each is celebrating and distracted with their company, a certain girl notices your distraught and frantic form beelining to the massive doors.   Something doesn’t sit right in her, so she immediately stands and bows her head to the woman she was speaking to. “If you can excuse me, thank you, I’ll be right back.”   Lucy follows after you, eyes pinned on your backside.   The only people who pay any mind is your mother, the Duchess of Devereux. Her senses are sharp and she taps your father on the shoulder until he follows her line of sight to the girl.   The castle grounds are dark, the moon waxing but not yet full enough to provide a bright light. But enough is shed for you to see. It’s enough for shadows to cast along the stone walls. You would never walk outside at this time of night, but you need air. More of it. Something you can breathe in and hope will clear the cloudiness inside your mind, the noise that’s earsplitting.   A gentle tap on your shoulder has you screaming.   “It’s me!” Lucy puts her hands out, her eyes wide. “I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to startle you.”   You catch your breath, steadying it and you swallow hard. “W-What are you doing outside? I thought you were still celebrating the feast.”   “I saw you walking by and I thought something was wrong and I got worried, I’m sorry.” She looks at you when the silence is ongoing. The concern is evident through her knitted brows. “Are you alright, Anastasia?”   It seems like everyone is asking you that question today.   A question you don’t know how to respond to yourself.   But you manage a nod and a smile. “I’m fine. I was just tired. I was thinking of retiring to my room early.”   “Oh, okay.”   You step towards her and grasp her hands within your own. “Can you do me a favour, Lucy, and keep Jungkook company tonight? He might be looking for me too and I don’t want him to be worried.”   “I will.” She nods. “But do you want me to escort you to your room? I could call someone—”   “No, it’s quite alright. I’ll be fine.” You smile and let go of her. “You should go back now before someone goes looking for you.”   Lucy nods for a second time and she bids you a goodnight as she walks back.   You’re left by yourself and you turn to tread your own way. The weight of so many decisions lie upon your shoulders and slow down your steps. You wonder why you have to bear the heavy burden of knowing your future, of knowing all of theirs while trying to escape your own fate.    It feels like you’re a pawn trying to control the whole chess board.   You exhale a breath, watching the cloud dissipate and unbeknownst to you, there’s a rustle in the garden’s bushes.   “That’s her, isn't it?”   Two shadows emerge from the darkness and before your ears can pick up on the noise, before you can turn around and meet the figures, a cloth is clamped over your mouth. Your shout is muffled and arms begin to drag you in the opposite direction of the castle.   What the fuc—    Immediately, your elbow juts out and the man behind you sputters, cowering over with a curse. You manage to slip out of his loosened grip, about to sprint and yell. Until another overtakes you and grabs hold of your wrists, yanking you back.   “Wench!” A cold blade sits at the juncture of your throat and you freeze, breaths tearing out of your throat frantically. You can fight him. Years of swordsmanship didn’t render you useless after all. But his threat delays you— “Shut your mouth if you don’t want Baron of Liza dead too.”   What?   Your mouth is stuffed with cloth and you’re roughly ripped into the darkness.   At the same time, Taehyung, still at the terrace and about to leave, turns around.

[ugly-crying-over-bucky-barnes]

Interruptions

Summary: Ada’s twin sister takes a more active role in her brothers’ company. Yet that means she has frequent run-ins with Alfie Solomons who she is less than fond of.

Requested by @bangbap

            To be fair, Helen didn’t hate Alfie Solomons as much as she hated other people. There was a clear hierarchy of the men that her brother did business with. Alfie was somewhere around the middle. She found him arrogant, overbearing, and aloof with a bit of a god-complex mixed in. But she didn’t get to pick and choose who she worked with as a part of the Shelby Company Ltd.

            Helen didn’t feel like she owed her brothers anything but seeing as her twin, Ada, took no interest in the company, she felt as if she might as well help. She was very close with Polly and took comfort under her aunt’s wing, learning all she could.

            Still, there were days when she wished she had followed Ada’s route. Taking a salary and living nicely in London. One of those days was trekking all the way out to London, Camden Town more specifically.

            Her brothers were all too busy to bring paperwork to Alfie. While Arthur had some reservations about their younger sister going, the paperwork was important in upholding the fragile relationship between the Camden Jews and the Blinders. Besides, everything Helen learned was from either her brothers or Polly. She didn’t go down without a fight.

 ~~~~~~~~

            Ollie recognized the woman as she approached the bakery. “Morning, Miss Shelby.” He greeted politely although there was a hint of confusion on his face.

            “How are you, Ollie?” Helen took no issue with Alfie’s assistant. The young man seemed to do his best and had a personality very opposite of his boss.

            “I’m well…but we weren’t expecting you.” He admitted. There was nothing on Alfie’s agenda that had anything to do with the Shelbys.

            “Tommy confirmed with him over the phone that I would be coming out today.” She replied.

            “Right…I guess there was a mix-up.”

            “Well, this will only take a moment.” Helen smiled tightly and went to go through the double doors.

            Ollie looked a little panicked, following her close behind. “I should warn you not to trouble him. He’s in a mood.”

            “So am I. I’ve had to travel all the way to London to do my brothers’ dirty work. I’m not exactly in the best mood either.” She didn’t slow down, striding down the hall toward Alfie’s office.

            “It wouldn’t be wise-”

            “I’ve dealt with him before; I can handle it.” And that was that. There was no stopping her as she knocked on the door.

            “Fuck off!” Alfie’s angry voice came from the other side.

            “It’s Helen Shelby, I’ve got contracts that need signing.” She didn’t waver.   

            There was a pause before heavy footsteps crossed the office and the door flung open. “What part of fuck off do you not understand, love?” Alfie stood in the doorway with an intimidating stance.

            “What don’t you understand about these contracts need signing?” She retorted before slipping past him and making herself comfortable in his office. “You knew I was coming, oh hello Cyril, Tommy called you and confirmed. It’s not my fault, oh yes I see you Cyril that’s a good boy, that you can’t keep track of your appointments.”

            Alfie turned around bewildered that she had pushed her way in. The nerve of some people. “Love, I could shoot you right now, yeah, just on the account of you fucking trespassing into me office.”

            Helen dropped the stack of paper on his desk and sat down to pet Cyril. At least the dog was happy to see her. “Then you’d have more Shelbys trespassing, wouldn’t you?”

            Alfie grumbled obscenities under his breath. She’d called his bluff more than enough times. Both of them were highly aware that he would never bring her harm, but it was the only threat he had in his arsenal. No other threats worked on her. After a few months of their professional relationship, Alfie found that she was a mix of her brothers. That was the worst thing about her. She had the calm, stoic nature of Tommy but had the temper of Arthur when she so chose.       

            “You just have to sign a couple of papers and I’ll be gone.”

            “I may not sign them just on the fucking principle,” Alfie responded stubbornly.

            “Oh God, Alfie, please don’t act like a child.” Helen rolled her eyes.

            “I’m acting like a child? You’re the one who barged her way in here without a fucking care in the world.” He crossed his arms over his chest. “I’ll reschedule a day with your brother. Get out.”

            “I came all the way from Birmingham, I’m not leaving without a fucking signature.” She stood up to stare him down.

            “Well, you can think about your manners on your way back to that shithole.”

            She scoffed. “My manners?”

            “Yeah.”

            “Oh, for Christ-never mind. Fuck it.” She gathered the papers on the desk. “I’m not wasting my time with you. But you’re the one who will have to answer to Tommy.” She spat before storming out of the office.

            “Like I’m scared of your brother!” He yelled after her. The sound of her heels on the concrete floor faded away. There was no trace of her left. Alfie hated that he felt a pang of emptiness in her absence.

~~~~~~~~~~ 

            Tommy exchanged words with Alfie and a week later, Helen was sent back to Camden Town despite her protests.

            Ollie wasn’t at the door, so she let herself in. She passed the assistant on the way to Alfie’s office.

            “He’s expecting you.” He confirmed.

            “Oh, good. The man can finally remember something for once.” Helen replied sarcastically as she knocked on the door.

            “Come in.” At least it was a nicer reply than last time.

            Helen walked in. “Are you going to behave this time or am I going to have to go back empty-handed again?”

            Alfie leaned back in his desk chair, arms crossed, half-moon glasses perched on the bridge of his nose. “Depends.”

            “On what?”

            “On your attitude.”

            “You want me to grovel or something? May I remind you; you were the one who caused the fuss last time.”

            Alfie tutted his tongue and shook his head. “You’ve learned too much from your brothers.”

            “I’m not my brothers.” She decided to sit down instead of arguing on her feet. “They lack my charm.”

            He laughed and shook his head. “You Shelbys and your charm.” He leaned forward and lazily sorted through the paperwork she set down on his desk.

            “Oh, please just sign them. Don’t play around.”

            But each of his movements was deliberate. Slow and careful to increase their time together. Alfie couldn’t put his finger on why he liked Helen so much. After all, she had most of the Shelby qualities that drove him up the wall. Yet, he could tolerate her for hours. He enjoyed their banter and it didn’t hurt that he thought she was beautiful.

            Helen raised an eyebrow at him. “Well?”

            “Well, what?”

            “Do you need a pen? I’ve got one.”  She began to rummage through her purse.

            “Tell you what,” He tapped his knuckles against the desktop. “I’ll sign ‘em, but not here.”

            “Alf-”

            “Just hear me out, aye? There’s a place on Regent’s we can go to.”

            Helen paused and recollected herself. “I’m sorry. Alfie Solomons, are you asking me on a date?”

            He cleared his throat and shrugged. “S’pose it depends on if you want to call it that.”  

            “Well…” She subconsciously fixed her hair. “If my brothers found out they would kill you.”

            “They want to kill me for a lot of reasons, love. But I understand.”

            “Do you understand that our meeting at this place on Regent’s will be business?”

            Alfie narrowed his eyes. She had a small smirk on her lips. “Right…right, business. Business.” He nodded in affirmation. He understood.

            Helen couldn’t help but laugh softly. “All this time you’ve been giving me trouble.”

            “Well, you Shelbys are attracted to trouble. So, to keep you around…”

            “You stirred up trouble.” She never thought her second trip to Camden would result in such a way. And yet…it felt right. Maybe she’d been waiting all this time. Being a Shelby was thrilling in its own right. But sneaking around with Alfie Solomons? It felt like electricity coursing through her veins.

            “So?”

            “So, I’ll go to my sister’s home to get ready for our meeting. You can pick me up there.” She stood up and lingered by his desk.

            “Ada won’t tell your brothers?”

            “No, she won’t notice where I’ve gone.”

            Alfie nodded and stood up as well. “Erm, I’ll walk you out then.” He offered.

            But Helen stopped at the door and waited until he got close to her. Feeling that jolt of thrill, she kissed his cheek.

            He stopped in his tracks as if he’d completely frozen.

            She looked smugly at him. “That’s for making me come out here a second time, Solomons.” She murmured before going on her way.  

            “Fucking hell.” He grinned and watched her leave.

Permanent Tag: @papa-geralt-of-cirilla @biba3434 @kimmietea @enrapturedbythemoon @vampgirl1997 @tarafaithe @evelynshelby

PB Masterpost

[softboywriting]

Right Place, Right Time | Santiago “Pope” Garcia | Triple Frontier

Summary: You and Pope have known each other for years because of your ex. When you end up in a bad situation because of your brother, Pope is the last person you thought would end up saving your life. [Post Movie] [TW: Violence, gunshots, mention of drug running, hostage situation] [Film: Triple Frontier]

Word Count: 3k

Masterlist In Bio

The sound of a gunshot rips through the air, ringing in your ears and your heart stops. You huddle down into the cold porcelain tub you're handcuffed to, praying that you can get out of this situation alive. The situation has gone from bad to worse and you suspect it may get uglier.

You're not even meant to be here, you're a bartering chip because your brother fucked up and owes a cartel boss a fuck load of money. You can't even remember his name, Parade? Patron? Partida. That's it. Three days ago you got grabbed by three guys in a van outside your apartment in San Antonio Texas; had your hands tied up and mouth taped shut, tossed into the cargo hold on a small plane and flown for a long time then put in a trunk and driven for a longer time.

Since then you've been fine, no one has hurt you or made you feel uncomfortable other than the whole being held hostage. It's only been a day since you've been handcuffed, you started out much more comfortable in a small sunroom but you quickly ruined that luxury. Your back hurts from the awkward position you're forced to sit in. It's what you get for trying to make a run for it during a guard change.

It's been just under fifteen minutes since you heard commotion from the floor below you. Unmistakable sounds of struggle and loud thumping. Then came the gunshot. You have no idea who is shooting, if it is a guard or someone else with a gun. There are two more gunshots and you are certain that they've come from the stairs just outside the bathroom door. You have a feeling that there is a drug bust going on or a rival cartel is making a move. Either way you're in a bad position.

The hall outside the bathroom door creaks and you hold your breath. Maybe they won't check the bathroom. Maybe it's one of Partida's guards sweeping for intruders. Not that you'd rather it be a guard, but you'd rather not die or go to prison for being in a drug lord's house. You slide the curtain over quietly and lean your head back against the cold tile wall.

The sound of a man speaking catches your attention. It's low, unintelligible. You listen closer, trying to make out what they're saying but you're only catching pieces. It sounds like English.

"I'm going to sweep the rooms."

The door hand jiggles and you can't breathe. Sure enough the door creaks open and you hear someone moving into the room, heavy boots moving slowly across the floor. As long as they don't pull back the curtain it's fine. You're fine. They will take the shit they want and leave. Then you can make a run for it. Just don't open the- fuck.

You stare up at a blonde man with striking blue eyes. He's got a backwards baseball cap and a full tactical vest on. He looks American and you feel only fleeting relief, knowing that at least he doesn't appear to be part of a rival cartel in the country.

"Holy shit." He touches a com on his chest. "Pope, we got a girl up here, second floor bathroom. She's handcuffed to the tub."

"Copy that, I'm on my way."

Your heart soars. Pope. You know a Pope who is now ex military. Your ex boyfriend's squad leader was nicknamed Pope. You got together several times, had drinks with the squad and their significant others. You always had a thing for him, though you never let on since you were with Jude, your ex. The two of you got along far better than you and Jude ever did and you always wondered what if. It was a classic case of right person, wrong time. You can only hope that somehow on the gods green earth, this is going to be the same man.

"Hey sweetheart you know English?"

"Yeah, I'm American." You tug at the handcuff and it rattles loudly against the tub. "Got anything to get this off me?"

"Not on me. I'm gonna let Pope make that call."

Another man appears in the doorway. He looks similar to the one standing before you. Blonde, blue eyes, same jawline and build. "Ah fuck. Did you tell Pope yet?"

"He's on his way up."

A third man steps into view as the second man steps away. He's about the same height, dark curly hair with a bit of gray in the front, stubble, brown deep set eyes. It's him, Santiago "Pope" Garcia. He looks to the man in front of you and then to the one out of sight. They both exit the room and he enters, closing the door behind him.

"Santiago...Pope...holy shit, is this for real?"

"It is." He kneels beside the tub and you can see gray in his dark stubble. He doesn't look old enough to be graying, maybe late thirties or so, you can't remember. His eyes are soft, gentle as he looks at your wrist in the cuff. It's sore, red and rubbed raw. "This is the last place I ever thought I'd see you again. How the hell did you get here?"

"My brother owes Partida money, he did that private security gig here a while remember? He couldn't pay up so Partida took me and brought me here as a hostage. I've been here for three days."

Pope swings his gun around to his back and digs in the pocket of his vest. "He's kept you chained up for three days?"

"No, just one day. I was in the sunroom downstairs under a guard's watch until I tried to get out. I didn't make it far, obviously."

"Then he cuffed you. I got it." He pulls out a pair of pliers and goes for the chain around the pipe. "I want you to listen to what I'm about to say, and listen closely."

"O-okay?"

"If you're lying to me, and you try any funny business I cannot guarantee your safety. Just because we know each other, doesn't mean I can trust you entirely. I don't know you that well anymore. I'm cutting this chain and letting you go because I don't condone hurting women or hostages, and I want to believe you're telling me the truth."

"Of course I'm telling the truth, Pope. Fuck, we've known each other for years, yeah it's been a while but how many times did we get wasted together? Why are you here?"

He gives you a hard look but it smooths out, trust softening his features. "I'm trying to make a difference."

You rub your arm, massaging the bicep as you're able to relax it finally. It's been uncomfortably held at a weird angle since you were chained up. "You're here for the drugs? Are you a mercenary now or something?"

"Something like that." Pope stands and offers a hand to help you up. "You need to get out of here and get back home."

"I can't. I don't have any documents. How am I supposed to get over the border or get a flight?" You climb out of the tub and run a hand over your hair. "They brought me down here on a fucking crop duster hidden in the cargo hold."

Pope sighs, muttering under his breath and hooks his thumbs under the straps of his vest. "I'd say go to the embassy but I'm sure they're in Partida's pockets. Okay, I'll get you out of here, just go downstairs and wait for us to come down."

You nod and open the door, heading down the stairs and stopping short of the last step because there is a guard laying across the bottom steps and he is clearly not responsive. You close your eyes and tell yourself he is just unconscious as you step over his legs and go to the foyer. The front door is open and it's raining outside, the sky a sick green color. How did this happen? How could you have let your brother get in this much trouble? How did you let yourself get picked up outside your apartment? Fuck. You lean on the doorframe and you feel sick. You can't just go home. Partida will find you, his men will find you.

"Hey Handcuffs, you ready to go?"

You turn and see the blond with the baseball cap that initially found you. "Yeah, I'm not eager to stay."

"Pope says you're comin' with us. That he knows you. You're American right? Where you from?"

"Texas."

"Ah I see." He does a little two step move. "I've had a couple of good rounds in Texas. Nice place. Good food and better company." He adjusts his hat and you roll your eyes at him. "How'd you end up in Columbia?"

"My idiot brother." You scoff. "He was in private sector security and he stayed here for six months. Apparently he got in with the wrong people and then ended up owing more money than our childhood home is worth. He's so fucking stupid, he put me and everyone he's knows at risk and look at me now. I'm so fucked."

"Hey it'll be okay. Pope knows the right people, he can get you home."

"I can't go home! If I just go back to my apartment in San Antonio then Partida's men are going to hunt me down. They'll interrogate me about this, whatever this is!" You pace across the foyer. "I'm not supposed to be here, I'm not supposed to be part of anything! This is all my brother's fault and I'm really tempted to snap his fingers one by one when I see him again, if I see him again."

"Ouch. Trust me, Pope will get this right. Partida isn't going to be a problem much longer. Well, he ain't a problem now."

"What do you mean? Of course he's a prob-"

The other blonde comes down the stairs with Pope behind him. He's got a necklace in his hand with a cross on it. It's the one that Partida never goes without. The only way they could have gotten that is- Jesus fucking Christ what did Pope get into? "You got the matches Pope?" The blonde asks.

"You know I do." Pope says, tossing a bottle of some sort behind him.

"Don't you think maybe we should give some of this money in the house back to the people?"

"It's dirty money, it'll just find its way back to the next cartel that tries to take over the country. It's best we don't feed anything back into it. Let the people heal, free of Partida's grasp."

"Whatever you say, Pope."

Baseball cap and the other blonde grab bottles from a bag nearby like the one Pope tossed. You realize they're lighter fluid, or perhaps gasoline. They're going to burn the house to the ground with everything and everyone in it. "Come on, let's get this place good and soaked."

Pope walks up to you and lays his hand on your shoulder. "I never thought I'd see you again let alone in a place like this. Small world."

"Yeah, small world. What are you actually doing here? Seriously this is not a government mission."

"No, it's not. I've spent the last two years here trying to take down Partida. He was responsible for the death of my aunt and uncle a few years back. I worked with the local government for a while but they were all on his payroll. I met up with Benny and Will about doing this on our own. They hot some hard times so I told them they could keep as much cash as they could carry if they helped me and well, here we are."

You reach out and touch his jaw, there's a scratch you didn't see before and it's bleeding a little. You wonder if he knows it's there. "Never thought you'd do some cowboy shit like this."

He shrugs and looks away. "It's against everything I ever swore under oath but it's the right thing to do and we've got the skill set to do it. So many people suffer under Partida's rule. I've done something like this before in Brazil, it didn't turn out so well but it made a huge difference for the people and the government."

"Well I'm glad you are doing it. I've never been more relieved in my life than I was when I saw you walk into that bathroom. I was sure I'd end up dead or in prison or something far worse. I'm so far from home, and someone I know is saving my life, how did I get this lucky."

Pope chuckles. "I guess people are tied to each other once they meet. The invisible strings of fate. Seems that way anyway. How's Jude?"

"We broke up two years ago. It wasn't ugly, just a mutual falling out. He was being deployed to Turkey for a few years so it would have been rough."

"Oh I'm sorry to hear that. Is he still there? I've not heard from him since I retired."

"Yeah. What about you? Still got that Brazilian girl? What was her name? Annamaria?"

Pope clears his throat and runs a hand over his hair nervously. "No, no she uh...she wasn't into my work. It didn't last long."

"That sucks, I'm sorry. She was a sweet girl."

"She was. Life goes on though."

"Alright we're done, let's light it up and go home." The blonde says and picks up the bag they got the lighter fluid from.

Baseball Cap claps a hand on Pope's back. "Let's get the hell out of dodge my man."

"Let's go." Pope says, laying a hand on your back and guiding you toward the doorway. "We've got a truck waiting on the other side of the highway."

_____________________

The way home isn't as easy as it should be even with Pope's connections. For Benny and Will, baseball cap and the blonde, it's easy as pie. Pope had already set up their fake passports and IDs before the mission. You end up staying with Pope at the place he pays weekly for in Medellin. It's a temporary apartment, all the furniture and appliances are supplied. It's perfect for a man on the move. You both know it's a risk to keep you in the country, should Partida's men decide to get retribution for their boss. Not that many knew who you were or why you were in his home, but either way, if any of them knew about you, this is going to get pinned on you. How one woman in her late twenties could take out several armed guards and a drug lord alone, you have no idea. You're not John Wick, but you're not completely off the hook.

You wake up to the early morning light pouring in the open window of the bedroom. You're covered in soft blankets, a bit too warm, but comfortable enough. Beside you Pope is asleep, his tan skin and dark hair such a contrast against the cream color bedding. He looks peaceful, serene in this state.

Sharing the bed had been your idea. It wasn't as if two adults couldn't share a queen size bed for a few nights. You weren't horny teenagers on a camping trip, forced to share tents. None the less your heart races when you see him inches away, lips parted slightly, eyes closed and his whole expression relaxed. He's gorgeous, rough but attractive beyond measure. He's older than you by a few years, a good eight at least, but you don't care. You definitely still want him.

"Good morning," he mutters, one eye opening to peek at you across from him. He smiles slow and sleepy.

"Good morning."

"Did you sleep okay?"

"Mmhmm."

Pope reaches out and closes the gap between the two of you, fingers gliding over your cheek. "You're flushed. Are you feeling alright?"

"Yeah." You bite your tongue as you stare pleadingly at the man across from you. Do you say something? Does he feel this vibe? Does his chest ache the way yours does right now? You can't decide what to say so you go with the first thing that comes to mind. "You've gotten some gray since I last saw you."

He grins, breaking out into a laugh and let's his hand fall from your face. "Stress and the military will do that to you."

"I like it."

His laughter lulls and he looks over at you once more. "You do?"

"Yeah." You reach out and touch the curls at the front of his head where they are streaked with gray. His hair is soft but full and thick, his latin genetics for sure. He won't be thinning anytime soon, just graying. "It's nice, makes you look distinguished."

"It makes me look like an old man."

"You're not that old."

"Thirty seven and I've got these grays like a fifty year old pushing sixty hard."

You run your hand into his hair, dragging your fingers up through the thickest bit. "Don't worry about it. Get some hair dye. The ladies will still be all over you with a face like this."

He chuckles. "Oh yeah? What if I don't want ladies all over me? What if I just want one." He rolls forward and leans over you. "Am I reading this wrong?"

"No, you're reading it perfectly right."

"Good." He leans in and presses his lips to yours. His hand slides into your hair and you melt. His kiss is everything you imagined, soft, gentle, loving. "I've got a place in Brazil, a condo in Rio."

"Are you asking me to move in with you?"

"Maybe." He smiles and kisses you again. "Just for a bit until things cool down with Partida's men. I think you'll like Brazil."

You smile softly and close your eyes. "Fuck it. Why not? My job sucks in San Antonio. My parents are who knows where since they retired and my brother can figure it out himself. He put me into this mess, he can suffer a while wondering what happened to me."

"If he hadn't, we wouldn't be here." He presses his forehead against yours. "Never thought I'd see you again."

"I guess it's like you said, people are tied together by the universe once they meet." You run your hand through his hair and down his neck, twisting your finger in his curls there. "Maybe we were supposed to end up like this."

He presses another kiss to your lips and then to your jaw. "It was finally the right place, right time."

"Finally."

-------

end

Header imgae by @/delicate-venus

*****Note: none of my works should be posted anywhere outside of my linked accounts. I do not give permission to repost with or without credit to my accounts. Please notify me of any reposted works.*****

[oneoftheextras]

brother-in-law | two

masterlist | tip jar

yandere!aizawa where he is married to your sister but circumstances keep making things less than ideal

the amount of people that asked me for a part two of this made me soooo happy - i’m so glad people like my writing! this part is going to move away from the halloween theme that it was originally written in

this is my late christmas present to you

warnings: 18+ themes, mentions of covid-19 (i thought i would make it topical) cheesy circumstances, guilt, yandere themes, toxic relationship and of course, family

Part 1 | Part 2

That night still played on repeat in your head, you felt terrible. Of course, you hadn’t mentioned it to anyone, not a single living soul -unless you counted your many potted plants- knew about what happened in those short couple of seconds. But for some reason, it kept you up at night.

Shota had moved in next door pretty quickly. Your sister had banged on your door the day he arrived, and asked you to help bring in all of the two boxes he had brought with him, one was filled with work clothes and his uniforms for his Hero work, and the other was a coffee machine. That sounded about right.

At least it gave you an excuse to be nosey and see what his space looked like, you weren’t surprised when it was exactly the same as yours, just with less furniture. It had all the essentials in the kitchen, that came with the apartment, but that was it. The living room was bare, only a couch and a TV, it was a skeleton of an apartment and reminded you of when you first moved in.

He had lived next door for a month, causing no trouble, barely even seeing him apart from passing in the corridor when you were going to get laundry or going somewhere when he was coming back from school - your schedules meant that you would always be coming back from work before him and he was leaving for work before you.

That was until one night when you decided to bring someone home after a girls night out on a Friday evening. If truth be told, you had rarely ever done the whole one night stand thing, but it had been a while and you needed to get your mind off Shota.

You were more than a little bit drunk, and so was the guy, you barely knew this man, but you knew his name and that he worked for the same company as you. Either way, you had spent the night in bed with him- and up the wall, on the couch and various other places. It was fun. And you even got to ignore the awkward morning conversation when you woke up and he was nowhere to be seen.

It was all going so well, until you decided to check your phone, seeing a text from ‘Maybe Shota’, you weren’t sure how he got your number but if you had to guess you would have said it was your sister. Your heart dropped when you read the words that had been sent to you at 4:32am “Next time you get that drunk, text me to come get you so you don’t bring the bar home with you”, if he was awake at that time there was no doubt that he had heard you.

Trying to shake off the embarrassment you were feeling you decided to start your Saturday morning off with a mug of coffee on the balcony, it was 8:02am and luckily not feeling as groggy as you thought you were going to.

Besides, watching the sunrise from your bean bag on the balcony was worth waking up early for.

It was peaceful and distracted you from all the madness that was going on at the moment.

That was, until you heard the sliding door to your left open and close, it seemed like someone had the same idea as you. “Good morning” you heard a deep grumbly voice say, he had clearly just woken up as well, giving him that rough morning-voice. “Good morning” you said back politely, this was the first thing you had said to each other in over a month since you helped him move in.

“How’s the hangover?” He asked, being annoyingly more talkative than normal, “You know, hanging” you mumbled, half-assing a joke. He turned to face you, seemingly concerned “I have some aspirin if you want some?” He gestured to his apartment behind him, “No no no” you laughed to yourself, “I was joking, I’m fine, I didn’t drink that much” you confessed.

He pushed some air out of his nose harshly in as an unhumoured laugh, “Could have fooled me” he commented dryly. You didn’t really know what to say back, so you said nothing, to be completely honest he still made you nervous.

“Have you spoken to your sister recently?” He asked you in a rather drastic change in subject, that pit of guilt in your stomach started to gurgle, “Not really, why?” You were becoming concerned that something had happened to her and you hadn’t been told yet.

Shota looked down into his coffee and then up out at the morning sky, you were trying not to stare at the side of his face but the way you were sitting in your bean bag made it a bit hard, “Just wondered” he shrugged, “She’s not very happy with the new restrictions on travel” he continued.

“Oh” the sound that left your mouth was barely audible, but you realised he was talking about the pandemic that was going on worldwide. “I had a feeling she wouldn’t like them” you added to your noise, you realised that you weren’t really giving him much of a conversation when he clearly wanted to get something off his chest.

He huffed and you watched the air leaving his mouth turn into a visible cloud in the sky, it was starting to get colder, “I’m guessing she wants you to go home?” You said for him, you knew your sister and she didn’t do well being on her own without someone to wait on her every whim, Shota nodded in agreement. “But I can’t” he leaned forward, putting his forearms on the railing and dangerously hanging his coffee mug off the edge while holding it with both hands, “My school is still open, they’ve said places of education don’t need to close” he was visibly distressed by it.

Another sigh left his mouth as he stood up straight again, he was fidgeting, something you’d never see him do. “She’s not happy with me” was all he said as he subconsciously fiddled with his wedding ring, “When is she ever happy with you?” You inputted as a joke, but when he rolled his eyes behind closed lids, you knew you were right.

“Sorry, I shouldn’t be talking to you about this” he shook his head while he apologised and finally looked towards you - you were wearing your pyjama shorts and a vest, but the way his eyes trailed up your legs, across your chest and eventually to your face, made you feel as though you were wearing nothing. You watched his Adam’s Apple wobble in his throat as he swallowed his saliva.

He had locked eyes with you, and it felt like the wind had been knocked out of your lungs, immediately you were back in your parents house with his arm around your waist as you danced to the music. “It’s fine, you can talk about anything with me” you found yourself saying, his tongue darted out between his parted lips to wet them, and you had to admit your mouth was getting dry too.

“Yeah, you too” he muttered, luckily your balconies were connected but with a small metal railing down the middle, otherwise you wouldn’t have heard him, “Can talk to me about anything I mean’ he explained, not that you needed an explaination - “I stay up quite late so don’t feel bad knocking on my door at any time” his eyes were basically begging you to come over.

“I will” you said, before thinking, “Uh- I mean, you know” you stuttered, you had gotten too lost in his gaze that you’d forgotten how to speak. You watched his soft expression turn into a sideways smirk as he had realised what he had done.

“I should let you go, I’m sure you’ve got loads of papers to grade” you awkwardly stood up and shouted a goodbye before basically slamming your sliding door closed.

Placing your hand on your chest, you could feel your heart pounding through your rib cage and into your palm. You needed to get yourself under control, you thought to yourself. It wasn’t right to be thinking of Aizawa this way, he was your sister’s husband for Christ sake. It didn’t matter how many times you told yourself this, your heart would still flutter whenever you thought about him or heard your name.

Later that night, you felt your phone buzzing in your pocket, and then you saw the screen your stomach dropped as it filled with a sick feeling of guilt, it was your sister.

“Hey!” You smiled as you swiped to answer the video call, “Hey” she said in a less than emphusiastic tone, “What’s up?” You asked as you propped your phone up on the side and continued to cook your dinner, “My idiot husband” she snarled, she was obviously in one of her moods - you couldn’t help the little voice in your head saying ‘He’s not an idiot’.

You decided it was best not to say anything and just let her talk, she was going to start her monologue either way, she took a deep breath in as she began “He wont listen to me! I’ve told him to come home so many times and he just wont, I don’t understand why he wont listen to what I say” she was clearly very angry, almost like she had just finished an argument and wanted to get someone on her side.

It was an amazement to you how you had managed to be in between this couple drama considering they barely spoke to you before now.

Her pause was long enough to tell you that she wanted an answer, “With all the new travel restrictions, I don’t think he has a choice” you tried to say it in the most level headed and logical way you could, you couldn’t take sides in this. But your sister wasn’t having any of it, “Of course he has a choice! He still travels to his school every day” she put emphasis on the word ‘travels’ as she tried to use your own words against you, again you couldn’t help yourself from defending him, “That’s his job, he has to go there” but your pleas were falling on deaf ears.

The next 20 minutes was her explaining all the reasons as to why she was right and how Aizawa was wrong, after the second objection you realised how useless it was. “So I told him-“ your sister was finally starting to conclude her lecture, “-it’s me or the school” you were half-listening to her at this point, but that made you stop and think over whether or not you actually heard what she just said or if you thought it up.

“You didn’t actually say that to him did you?” You took a sip of your drink and turned back towards the camera, you had been out of shot all this time and she was too busy talking about herself that she didn’t even notice, “Of course I did’ she said as though she was proud of it.

“What did he say?” You prodded, interested in how he would have handled that situation, all the years you’d known Aizawa you could never picture him having the energy for such an argument. “He hung up the phone” she said flatly, and you had to stop yourself from spitting out a laugh. Of course he did.

“So what now?” You were probably asking more questions than you should about your sister’s relationship, “I think I’m going to give him the week, and if he doesn’t come home I’ll start filing for a divorce”, that time you actually did spit out your drink. “That’s a bit drastic don’t you think?!” You were shocked she would say such a thing.

The way your sister was, she had never worked a day in her life, all the income to her house was from your parents and Aizawa. If they got a divorce then she would have to go back to work, and that’s not what your sister would want to do at all - this had to be for effect.

“No, I don’t think so. If he doesn’t want to come home to me now then he doesn’t want to be with me” she sounded as though she had fully convinced herself of this, “I have to go, but keep an eye on him for me, will you? And let me know if he has any guests over” you knew exactly what she meant by that. You weren’t happy with what she was implying.

“I will’ you lied, you had no intention of keeping an eye on him, his business was his business and you had to find a way to distract yourself from all of this, focusing on what he was doing would definitely make it worse.

With that she hung up, and almost immediately after you heard a slam come from next door. Your brain told you to go and check on him and make sure he was okay, in your opinion, your sister was being out of line. But you couldn’t say that.

You felt as though it was your duty to Aizawa to tell him what your sister had told you, but you hated drama and wanted nothing more than to not be apart of it. Instead you opted for a short and simple text that said ‘I hope you’re okay, if you need anything let me know’ you prayed that he didn’t think into it too much, but you still checked your phone every half an hour to see if he had read your message.

Another week of avoiding Aizawa as best you could, and restrictions only got worse. You had moved to working from home completely remotely now, which you enjoyed because it meant you could work in your pyjamas and no one could tell you otherwise.

You were starting to get comfortable, until everything started to go wrong.

As you stepped into your shower and twisted the knob to turn on the water, you let out a guttural screech when only freezing cold water came rushing out onto your unsuspecting body. Jumping out of the shower as quickly as you could and wrapping yourself in a towel, you went and checked on the plumbing. Sure enough, the hot water was gone.

You ran the water in the sink in the bathroom, and in the kitchen, all the water was freezing cold. Before you could investigate too far, there was a pounding at your door and you heard your name being yelled, when you opened it you saw Shota looking at you with concern. Subconsciously, you pulled your towel up to cover more of your chest, this was the second time he would be seeing you this way.

“Are you okay? I heard screaming” his voice was raspy and he was clearly out of breath, something you didn’t think someone as athletic as him could be. “Yeah, I’m fine” you laughed as you visibly saw him relax, “My hot water’s gone, I wasn’t expecting the cold water” you explained as he stopped looking over your shoulder into your apartment.

He stood up straighter now that the potential danger was gone, you noticed how he had his scarf bundled up in his hand as though he had quickly grabbed it on his way out. “My water is fine, you can come and use mine” he offered to you, gesturing to his apartment door.

You didn’t know what to say, you really wanted a shower but would it be weird to use your brother-in-law’s shower? Standing there with beads of cold water still running down your shoulders, you shivered and that made up your mind, you wanted hot water.

“One second” you held up a finger before going to your bedroom and grabbing the clothes you were going to wear as well as your body wash, shampoo and conditioner, if you were going to do this you may as well get everything so you didn’t have to walk back to your apartment naked.

Exiting your bathroom you almost dropped everything you were holding when you nearly collided with Shota. You were about to ask him what he was doing but it was obvious that he was being nosey and wanting to take a look at your space.

It was your fault for leaving the front door wide open, that’s probably why he came in, he thought you were inviting him in with the open door.

“Ready?” he asked you in a low voice, you didn’t audibly respond, but you nodded at him and he lead the way.

Taglist:

All:

@mylife-demonstrates-murphys-law @hereticpriest @enagmaticether @anxiousgoddest @kodzu-ken @moonnei @diesinspanishbcimhispanic

Aizawa:

@raine-needs-help @waitwhatsrealityagain @multifandomshitblog @annepamgkrth @fvckmeupyoonz @porkcracker

[nineteenninety-six]

A Tragic Birthday

REQUEST: Could you do an imagine where the reader is a Shelby sister and Tommy’s favourite sibling and one day a deal goes wrong or something and she dies but kinda how grace died, in Tommy’s arms and it’s all hectic. Thanks:)

I was going to take a little break (only to the weekend) because tumblr was stressing me out and annoying me but when I started this, I couldn’t stop and I don’t like sitting on fics.

TW: Death

WORD COUNT: 2681

[PART TWO]

It was (Y/N)’s eighteenth birthday coming up in a week and it was safe to say that she was excited. (Y/N) had been looking forward to that day since her older brother Tommy had promised her a large party to celebrate the year before, and now that it was literally only days away she couldn’t stop buzzing about it, no doubt irritating her older siblings.

(Y/N) was the youngest of the Shelby siblings, a few years younger than Finn and was primarily raised by her Aunt Polly and her eldest brothers Arthur and Tommy. (Y/N) and Tommy were the closest between the siblings and had a special bond, that none of the others could replicate with their youngest sibling but that didn’t mean that she wasn’t close to her other siblings, because she was. In fact, it could be said that she had a special thing with each of her siblings; with Ada, they were close because they were the only girls in the family, Finn was the closest in age to her and they grew up as each other’s best friend, Arthur was the closest thing to a father she had and (Y/N) knew if she needed comforting then he would be the person she went to and John was someone she could rant to without judgment and he was always willing to help her out whenever she got in a sticky situation.

But the bond (Y/N) had with Tommy was different and there was no doubt that they were each other’s, favourite siblings. When their mother had died, Tommy had taken on the role as her primary caretaker, he changed her nappies, bottle-fed her and pretty much did anything a father would do. Polly had told her about how when she was a baby, Tommy would get a large piece of fabric and wrap her in it and secure her to his chest so that her cheeks rested on his chest because she would cry whenever she wasn’t being held by him and that it allowed him to keep her calm and content while he got some work done.

Just as much as (Y/N) hated being away from Tommy, Tommy hated being away from (Y/N) just as bad. He was overly protective when she was born, only allowing his Aunt Polly to get involved and help him out because despite thinking he knew everything, Tommy most definitely did not know how to handle a baby, especially not a newborn but he learnt and adapted and became a dad to her.

(Y/N) were three when Arthur, Tommy and John had to leave and go to war and Tommy to this day still has nightmares of how she screamed and cried to the point where she was almost sick at the train platform where he and the hundreds of other men from Small Heath were leaving from. (Y/N) didn’t understand what war was or why were her brothers were leaving but she did understand that her Tommy was leaving and she hated it.

Tommy had made a thousand promises to (Y/N) as he held her in his arms that day on the platform, repeatedly promising to come back alive and well and that he would never abandon her again and Tommy wasn’t sure if he was going to be able to keep them but he made it his goal to come back to her and the rest of his family.

But he didn’t break those promises and four years later, he was sobbing into the dress of a seven-year-old (Y/N), who was crying just as hard into his neck. The only time (Y/N) ever left Tommy’s arms the rest of that day was to hug her other brothers but other than that, (Y/N) was stuck to Tommy’s side. She was silent at first, slightly awkward around her brother who she hadn’t seen in years but it didn’t take long for her to become comfortable and start to quietly mutter into Tommy’s ear about everything he had missed whilst he was away and Tommy sat there in shock as she did so, marvelling at how much his little girl has grown. When he had left, she had just started to string sentences together but now she could speak in full sentences and was chatty, something he guessed she picked up from Ada.

That night as (Y/N) was curled up into a ball asleep beside him, Tommy cried once again. He was glad he was back home and alive but he knew nothing was going to be the same anymore but he was determined to keep things as normal as possible for her whilst she grew up and he was going to create a good life and world for her to live in.

And now eleven years after he’s returned home from the war, he’s pushed all his work to the side to prepare for the birthday of his little munchkin. Tommy had been dealing with an issue for the past week which involved one of his clients thinking he was overpaying for the Peaky Blinders services and was now demanding a refund. One that obviously Tommy refused to give.

Tommy called in the person who had knocked on the door, not even bothering to look up from the paperwork he was looking through.

“Hello to you too, Tommy.” The person said as they stepped into the office, moving to sit in one of the chairs that sat in front of Tommy’s desk.

Tommy grinned when they spoke up, instantly recognising the voice,

“Good morning (Y/N), what have I done to be blessed with your presence this early in the morning?”

“I have the finalised cost list for the party.” Tommy pushed his other work to the side and took the piece of paper from (Y/N)’s fingers and skimmed his eyes over it, letting out a low whistle at the final amount,

“You plan on bleeding me dry eh?”

(Y/N) rolled her eyes and smiled, “Don’t even try it. I know my party costs less than what the Garrison re-opening did.”

“How do you know how much the Garrison cost?” Tommy raised an eyebrow.

“I just do.” (Y/N) raised her eyebrows, a smug look on her face.

“Stop tricking Arthur into letting you see the company files” Tommy pointed a non-threating finger at his youngest sister who only rolled her eyes.

(Y/N) bit her lip in nervousness before she spoke up, “It’s not too expensive, is it? I can remove some stuff if you want!”

Tommy got up from his seat and walked around his desk and leant on it, patting (Y/N) on the head, “It’s not expensive, don’t worry, I was only teasing I’m sorry. You don’t turn eighteen everyday eh?”

“You’re the best Tommy!” (Y/N) leapt up and tightly hugged her brother.

“I know.”

Tommy laughed at (Y/N)’s scoff.

“Any plans for today?” Tommy asked as he went back around his desk and sat back down.

“Ada’s taking me down to London to pick up my dress.”

“Hmm, spending the whole day?”

“I think so. I mean we might as well. Karl and Finn are coming along too so we should be able to find something to do.” (Y/N) made her way to the door.

“Have fun.”

“Will do!” She called over her shoulder as she left his office

It was the day before (Y/N)’s birthday and the clients of Tommy’s that thought they were being scammed have only become an irritant to Shelby brothers, making threats and destroying property has become their form of revenge and attention-grabbing at the moment but none of them could do anything at that moment, all three of them making a promise to their youngest sister not to do anything gang related on the day off or the day before her birthday. (Y/N) desperately not wanting her birthday to be ruined and her brother understood and promised her that they wouldn’t. It was bugging Tommy that he had to wait on retaliating on them but he told himself years ago that his family came above everything else, especially his (Y/N).

On the morning of her birthday, (Y/N) slipped out of her bed and crawled into Tommy’s, his arm automatically wrapping her shoulder as she curled into his side. This was a semi-common occurrence between the two of them, originating from when Tommy started to try and put (Y/N) in her own bed in her own room for the night when she was a year old but it only took a few hours before (Y/N) was climbing out of her bed or Tommy himself took her back to his room. Though it had become less of a thing as (Y/N) grew up as her room was pretty much the only place that she could get peace and quiet and privacy from her wild family. (Y/N)’s room became her sanctuary.

“Good morning, Tommy!” (Y/N) chirped

“G’morning princess.” Tommy lit himself a cigarette, “Happy birthday.”

“Thank you.”

“Here.” Tommy had pulled out a jewellery box from the draw in his bedside table and held it out to her.

“What’s this?” (Y/N) didn’t open the box straight away.

“My gift to you.”

“I thought the party was your gift to me”

“Take the gift (Y/N) or I’ll throw it in the bin.”

“Alright alright, christ almighty.”

(Y/N) slowly opened the box and gasped at what laid inside. It was a diamond necklace, simple yet elegant. Exactly (Y/N)’s style.

“Oh, Tommy. It’s gorgeous, thank you.”

“Glad you like it. Now get washed and dressed, I’m still taking you out for brunch.”

(Y/N) quickly kissed his cheek and left his room, not wanting to delay.

After their brunch, (Y/N) spent the rest of the day getting ready for the party and running around fretting about the smallest things, only settling down after a threat from Ada. After several impatient shouts from John and Finn, (Y/N) was finally making her way downstairs to the rest of her family who made of a series of appreciative noises when they saw her, causing her to smile.

“You look wonderful darling.” Polly walked over to her and gave her a hug before leading her outside and towards the Garrison where the party was being held, the rest of the family following behind them.

“How’s your day been so far?” Polly asked her.

“Good! Brunch with Tommy was great as per usual.” (Y/N) grinned.

(Y/N) usually had brunch with Tommy and then dinner with the rest of her family on her birthday but because this year was slightly different, they were doing dinner the next day.

“I’m glad.” Polly patted her hands and they continued their journey with small nonsense chatter, Ada and Esme quickly joining in.

The party was already in full swing when they arrived, drinks were being passed around and the music was pounding and as soon as she stepped foot into the pub, (Y/N) was dragged away by her friends, the bunch of them squealing and giggling. Tommy and his brothers were sat on a table tucked away but placed somewhere where they can see pretty much the whole room but despite that, they couldn’t see who had slipped into the pub.

Tommy too deep into conversation with Jeremiah Jesus and one too many drinks deep meant that he didn’t notice that something was up until the music suddenly stopped and screams erupted, and as he looked up to see what was happening, his blood ran cold at what he saw.

His little sister trapped in the arms of the client that was pissed off at him, with his gun held to her temple. The man wasn’t by himself, he had brought along two other men. (Y/N) was frozen in shock, afraid that one small mistake would result in her getting hurt.

Tommy slowly stood up and noticed his brothers and other Peaky Blinders do the same thing, each of them pulling out their guns. They easily outnumbered the three men but that didn’t matter as Tommy’s top priority was (Y/N)’s safety

“Thomas Shelby! We’re tired of being taken advantage of by people like you. We’ll have it no more!” One of the men shouted.

“Okay, alright. I hear you. Let’s talk, okay? But before that, I’m going to need you to let all these people go okay, they’re innocent.” Tommy gestured to people plastered to the walls of the Garrison, (Y/N)’s friends crying.

The man nodded and everyone quickly ran out, the only people left in the pub being Tommy, Arthur, John, Finn, Polly, Ada and Michael.

“Now, let the woman in your arms go. She’s just a teenager.”

The leader was the man holding (Y/N) and hesitated before he stood his ground, “No! If I let her go then you’ll just kill me. I want my money back Shelby!”

Arthur grumbled unhappily and shifted, causing Tommy to hold out his arm in warning.

“If you let her go we won’t.” Tommy placed his gun on the table as a sign of truce, “Just let her go.”

The man slowly nodded and loosened his grip allowing (Y/N) to slip through a take a slow step forward, sobs spilling through her lips. “You’re alright, you’re fine. C’mon.” Tommy held out his arms for (Y/N) and took a step towards her.

“No! Stop letting him win, it’s not fair!” One of the man’s sidemen shouted in rage before a loud bang sounded.

The room was silent as everyone tried to understand what had happened and it was until stuttered gasps left (Y/N) did Tommy understand what had happened.

“No!” Tommy raced over to (Y/N) and caught her in his arms just as her legs buckled.

“Fuck! Fuck fuck fuck.” Tommy slowly lowered himself to ground with her in his arms. (Y/N)’s blood spilling through her dress and on to him.

“(Y/N), n-no p-please. O-oh god no”

(Y/N) let out a soft noise of distress as Tommy harshly pressed on the bullet wound.

“I know precious, I know it hurts but I have to do it.” Tommy didn’t even realise he was crying until (Y/N) gently flinched when a tear fell on her face.

“Polly! Polly help!” Tommy heard the clicking of his aunt’s heels before he felt her pushing his hands away. “Polly-- no I’ve got to help her”

“Tommy, let me check on her okay?” His aunt convinced him to move away so check on (Y/N)

Tommy had been so engrossed with (Y/N) that he had no idea what going elsewhere until a hand on his shoulder brought him out of his trance. It was Arthur and John was right behind him, both had blood splattered on them. Finn was crouched down by (Y/N)’s head softly brushing her hair back as he whispered into her ear, Tommy could see the tears slowly sliding down his face.

“Tommy” His aunt had a defeated look on her face and slowly shook her head.

“No! You’re wrong!” Tommy pushed past his aunt and shoved Finn aside so that he could fully bring (Y/N) into his arms, slowly rocking for side to side, loudly sobbing.

(Y/N) was in too much pain to speak and used the remnants of her energy to squeeze Tommy’s hand as tight as she could before she finally passed.

Tommy felt (Y/N) slightly slump in his arms and knew what had happened, letting a loud cry of pain. Tommy heard the cries and shouts and tears of his family around him but he couldn’t find it in himself to care, he was too wrapped up in the pain of his youngest sister that was more like a daughter to him an how her death was his fault.

His darling girl was dead.

[mrsalwayswrite]

Say You’ll Stay - Chapter 7

Fury/Band of Brothers Crossover Fic

We finally meet up with Easy Company!

Tag List: @happyveday​ @alwaysindecemberfeels​ @god-of-dramatic-death-scenes​ @saritanotserena​

Series Masterlist // Next Chapter

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

The morning arrived with a slight fog, bringing a sense of otherworldliness with it. As if ghosts stood along the tree line just watching and waiting in complete silence. Everyone moved with shifty feet and wary eyes, voices staying low. The starting of engines only exasperated the stillness around them. It had been decided, with so many men killed and wounded in the company, the whole group would travel to Haguenau. From there the wounded could be evacuated to a hospital and hopefully replacements sent for those lost. 

 Anna wandered around the tanks, checking in with the other medics and just trying to stay warm. Wrapping her arms around herself, she tried to keep the wintery cold at bay. A coat taken off a soldier, who no longer needed it, now covered her filthy nurse’s uniform. She tried not to think about wearing a dead man's coat, rather imaging it was a spare. Her legs were still exposed to the elements from the knees down to her short uniform boots, making it impossible to fully warm up as she walked around. 

"Mount up! Let's go!" The call echoed around from several different mouths, stilling the nervous restlessness hanging over the company. 

 The wounded were placed on the tanks to ride since they did not have a truck to transport them anymore. Besides the officers and those in the armored division, all the foot soldiers were forced to continue walking. Not a perfect solution but it was all they afford to do right now. Hopefully they could escape another surprise attack. 

 Ignoring those around her, she made her way towards Fury. Both to keep an eye on the wounded laying or sitting on the tank but to also stick close to the tank's crew. She had woken up that morning, still huddled against Boyd's side, wrapped in Don's leather jacket and the spare blanket from Gordo. They shared what breakfast they could with her before she had to head off and start rounds. Medic Arthur Christianson had taken over lead medic from Joe Hunter. A blow they all felt but this was war and you just learned to keep moving. The two other medics had been courteous enough to her from the beginning so it was not too much of a hardship to work with them. 

 Each medic had chosen a tank to walk next to and keep an eye on its wounded. She had immediately claimed Fury. 

 "Anna!" 

 Looking up, she noticed Boyd staring down at her from his spot on the tank. 

 "What you doin' down there?"

 She glanced around then stared back at him. "Walking." She stated with a casual shrug, not understanding what he was getting at. 

 Grady chuckled from his spot next to Boyd. Smoke curled around his mouth as he exhaled, the cigarette still between his teeth. 

 Boyd rolled his eyes with a deadpan expression. "I see that. Thank you. Why ain't you riding?"

 "Only wounded are riding. I'm fine, Boyd. I don't mind walking." She tried to assure him, a small smile on her face. Hopefully that masked how cold she actually was and the agitated nerves humming throughout her body. She walked a little further towards the front of the tank. Fury only carried five wounded, spread out along its sides. Stopping at a young soldier with a bandage around his head, she touched his leg to gain his attention. "How are you feeling?"

 The brunet opened his eyes, looking down at her from where he reclined on the tank. A shy smile crossed his lips. "My head ain't spinnin' like it was."

 "That's good. Let me know if that changes." Patting his leg, she smiled back at him. The young soldier was one she was particularly concerned about. During the initial explosion, he had been thrown back and landed hard on his head, getting knocked unconscious during the process. Eventually he woke back up but with a bloody head wound. 

 Tucking a few strands of wayward hair behind her ear, she adjusted Joe’s- no, her medic’s satchel across her body. Her heart clenched slightly at the reminder. Her own personal bag had been in the supply truck, now a pile of ash. Her few extra clothing items, her beloved book from home, the few letters she had from her family and friends along with what little money she had been holding onto, all gone. All destroyed in the fire that raged throughout the night as it consumed the supply truck. It hurt more than she thought it would. It was just stuff, but it had helped ground her, remind her of home. Without it, her soul felt slightly adrift. Even as she tried to convince herself it was just stuff, that it was replaceable, that twenty-two men died while she still drew breathe…. she still missed her belongings. 

 "Hey, dollface. Nice legs you got there."

 She pretended to not hear the comment from the lanky soldier sitting on the tank, bandage around his calf. She remembered him. A bullet ricochet hit his calf but he screamed like his guts were being ripped out, then he threatened one of the other medics until he received morphine. 

 "Ah, c'mon, smile. I just gave you a compliment." He called after her, a sleazy smirk on his face. 

 "Hey, shut up." Boyd demanded, having turned to glare at the offending soldier. 

 The arrogant soldier looked over his shoulder at Boyd as if surprised to be called out. "What? Like you can't see them." He snickered, continuing to leer at the nurse. 

 Anna closed her eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath. Unfortunately, she was used to men like that by now. Even if she hated dealing with them. She had a job to do though. War did not care if the men it wounded were good or bad, kind-hearted or arrogant, gentle or dangerous- it took them all. Her job was to save as many as she could from War's grasp. To allow as many men as she could to return to their families one day. 

 She turned slightly to meet the eyes of the lanky soldier. "Is there something you need, soldier?"

 "Aren't you going to check on me, darling?" He winked at her. 

 In a sudden flurry of movement, Grady roughly shoved the soldier off the tank without preamble. The soldier screamed as he hit the ground, landing on his hurt leg. The sound echoed in the air, bouncing off anything nearby as if to gain momentum in volume. Everyone nearby jumped at the sound, eyes locked on the soldier swearing and rolling on the ground. Anna stared in horror and confusion, a hand over her rapidly beating heart, unsure if she should intervene or stay to the side. Her answer came in the next moment as Grady hopped off the tank to stand between the soldier and Anna. 

 The soldier screamed, grabbing at his leg as he rocked on the ground. "What the fuck was that for?! Christ, I'm wounded, you asshole!" 

 "Yeah, shut the hell up." Grady said, just staring down at the soldier. He turned to look at Anna but never turned his back completely on the soldier. "You good?"

 She nodded mutely, beyond surprised and made quite speechless by Grady's actions. 

 "Coon-Ass! What's going on here?" Don stormed towards them, cigarette hanging from his lips and fire in his eyes. 

 "Nothin', Don. He started talking shit 'bout Anna. I shut him up." Grady shrugged, staring at his commander. A silent understanding seemed to pass between the two. Don gave a curt nod and only after that did he even acknowledge the man on the ground. 

 "You his Sergeant?!" The soldier was yelling, teeth bared like a rabid dog. "He pushed me off the goddamn tank! He can't do that!" 

 "Yeah? Well, sounds like you fucking deserved it." Don pulled the cigarette from his lips, blowing the smoke out. His eyes quickly shifted to Anna to scan her quickly before dropping back down to the soldier. 

 "Cause I complimented the fucking nurse? You know what, fuck you! And fuck the bitch!" 

 Don whipped out his pistol and pointed it at the downed soldier. Every sound ceased. The air froze. No one moved. Tension radiated from the scene. It felt with one wrong move, one wrong sound, Don would shoot. Even the wounded man stared in horror and rage at the pistol aimed at him. Everyone waited to see what Don would do. Anna covered her mouth with her hand, terrified that if she even peeped, Don would shoot the man on accident. When Don spoke next, Anna had never heard him sound so cold, it physically sent shivers down her spine.

 "I highly suggest you shut that big mouth of yours before I put fucking hole in your other leg." 

 If looks could kill, the soldier would have killed the tank commander twice over with the lethal glare he leveled at Don; but he wisely kept his mouth shut. The two stared at each other, almost willing the other to say something and set them both off like ticking time bombs. 

 After several tense moments, Don was the first to rip his gaze away and look over at Anna. Without a word, he beckoned her over with his hand. Worried and a little intimidated, she hurried over to stand between him and Grady. 

 "Anna, up you go now." The tank commander stated, nodding towards Fury, the threatening tone not quite fully leached from his voice yet. 

 "Wha… oh, no, I'm ok, Don. I promise."

 Those intense eyes bored into hers, immediately stopping any further excuses from passing her lips. "I can see you shaking like a leaf from the cold. I won't ask you again."

 "She can take my spot with Bible." Grady said to Don, looking over her head. "Keep her warmer."

 "Good. C'mon then."

 Next thing she knew, she was being manhandled by Don. He lifted her up as if she weighed nothing and set her onto the tank, where Boyd took her hand and slipped her into the gunner's spot with him. Her legs immediately felt marginally warmer as they were no longer bared to the cold elements. 

 Don climbed up to his spot, just on her left. None of the other soldiers, wounded or walking, would meet his gaze as he scanned over those nearby. As if just a shared glance would unleash his terrible ire onto them.  

 "I could have gotten up by myself." She grumbled, crossing her arms over her chest as she glanced over at him. 

 His hands stilled from placing the helmet on his head, his eyes meeting hers for a brief moment. "Whatever you say, doll." He winked quickly at her then looked forward, tapping a hand on his comms to speak. "Alright, let's move out."

 After that the tank jerked forward, Boyd had reached over to help keep her upright. Once settled, she tucked her face into her coat; not because of the cold, but in hopes no one would notice the blush on her cheeks. Butterflies danced in her stomach and it took her mentally berating herself to keep the stupid, giddy smile off her face. A simple wink should not have this much of an effect on her. Her mind decided to remind her of how it felt to have his hands on her and how easily he lifted her. That thought made her face heat up even more. 

 To distract herself, she peeked over her shoulder to see Grady sitting just behind her on the tank, watching the tree line with his mouth slightly open. 

 Although she still felt somewhat tense around Grady, he no longer looked at her as if she was a piece of meat to be ogled. She had noticed it the prior night as she joined the Fury crew and fell asleep leaning against Boyd. Followed by his strange actions today, she could not help but wonder what changed… if whatever occurred between him and Don in the French town had more of an effect than she realized. Maybe he was not such a bad man after all? Giving people second chances was something her mother preached and Anna found herself trying to do. Maybe now was a perfect example?

 Those on Fury rode silently for several miles, just watching the surroundings. Her thoughts turned dark, wondering if she should write Joe Hunter's wife. Obviously his wife would receive a condolence letter from the army but maybe it would help if she received a personal letter too from someone who worked with him? Who knew him and how devoted he was to her? Then again, she did not want his wife to misread her letter somehow and think Anna and Joe had an affair and now Anna was writing a letter out of guilt? Would someone do that? Or would they keep quiet about it? Her thoughts bounced around in her mind like ping pong balls, constantly moving but never actually in a helpful way. 

 "Where you from, Anna?"

 "Mmm?" Boyd's sudden question drew her from her inner musings. She lifted her head to look at him from staring at her nails as she picked at them. It took her an embarrassingly long moment of him staring at her with his eyebrows raised for his question to sink it. Heat filled her cheeks but she hoped it was not too noticeable. "Oh, sorry. I grew up in South Carolina but my family moved to Virginia, so that's where we lived the last few years. What about you?"

 He hummed, shifting slightly. "Missouri."

 "I've never been there. Do you miss it?"

 "I reckon. I miss the people there more, ya know?"

 Don cut in, still staring a head. "What he means is, he misses his girl."

 Her eyes widened and her head moved so fast from looking at Don on her left side to staring at Boyd on her right, she almost gave herself whiplash. "You have a sweetheart?"

 "Yeah." He shrugged casually as if it was not a big deal but the small smile on his lips and the light in his eyes betrayed him. 

 "And you haven't told me this?! You were getting on my case about seeing if I had one and this whole time you did!" She smack his chest lightly, making him flinch while Don and Grady laughed. "What's her name?"

 "Sarah Grace." His eyes softened even just saying her name. "Prettiest woman on God's good earth, I swear."

 She smiled at the fondness in his tone. 

 "We was gonna marry but then the war broke out and I felt called to join up. So she's waitin’ for me. When we get back, I'll start seminary and we'll get married."

 "If she's still waiting and not married someone else."

 Boyd narrowed his eyes at the mechanic behind Anna. "Grady, you just tryin' to get me riled up. It won't work. I know she'll wait."

 "Maybe she done run off with someone already." Grady countered, a smirk on his face. 

 "I just received a letter from her last month. You know that."

 "That was last month…"

 "I swear, Grady, if you don't-"

 "Alright, alright. Knock it off." Don said, grinning. It was obvious this was a continuous argument but was born out of teasing than any true malice. Boyd mumbled something under his breath, shoving his hands in his pockets.

 "Well I think it's sweet, Boyd. I'm happy for you." She bumped his shoulder, erasing the scowl on his face. In a split second decision, she looked behind her at Grady. Second chances, she told herself. "Where are you from?"  

 Initially, he seemed startled that she would ask him but quickly hid the surprise with his usual indifference. "California."

 She turned to Don next. "And you?"

 "Kentucky."

 It felt like she had to physically tear her eyes away from his or else she would be trapped in them. There was an intensity in them that balanced on the edge of exhilarating and terrifying. All it took was a small breeze to push him one way or another. So far she had only seen the kind and protective side of him. Now though, after he pulled the gun on the wounded man, she had seen a brutal side. It reminded her of when Norman mentioned about when he first met Don. Now she could see it, what Don had forced Norman to do. It sent a chill down her spine. People were forced to commit terrible crimes all the time during war. Was this side of Don because of war or just something that lurked under the surface continuously? She found herself worried about the answer. 

 Boyd interrupted her thoughts, continuing the conversation. "Gordo there is from Texas. Norman is from Pennsylvania."

 "Y'all are from all over the place." 

 "Yep, all it took was Hitler startin’ a war for us to meet."

 They all chuckled but grew quiet again at the sobering thought. 

 Anna could not help but think about where she would be right now if she had not joined the Nurse Corps. She had hoped to go to college and become a teacher. It was not glamorous but the very thought of it brought a smile to her face. Much to society's chagrin, she wanted more from life than to just marry the first man that came around and start having his babies. But it did not matter now. She was not even on the same continent of her birth. 

 She pushed back the thoughts of before and focused on those around her. The smell of cigarettes from the soldiers surrounding her. The chill in the air that clung to her without reprieve. The sight of what should have been a beautiful forest but set her on edge, expecting another surprise attack. She could not focus on what she was missing out on. War happened. And she answered the call. Even if it had been to get away from her own sins and ruined reputation.  

 *****

 The next afternoon, the company and tanks rolled into Haguenau. Snow dusted everything that had not been trampled yet. The air hung heavy with fatigue and despair. Supposedly the Allies were winning the war, but with the looks on the faces around… you would not suspect that. The sound of a mortar slamming into the ground up ahead made Anna flinch. She could not help but wonder what kind of new hell she had been taken too. 

 "Let's park in the rear. Don't need those Krauts aiming for our tanks." Don said over the comms. 

 When the tanks stopped, everything ground to a halt around them, followed by Captain Evans pulling up in his jeep. "Sergeant Collier! You'll come with me. Let's find out who's running this shit show."

 "Yes, sir!"

 Anna slid off the side of the tank, careful of her cold, bare legs. Instead of riding that day with Boyd, she had instead elected to ride next to a young soldier who had been shot in the shoulder. Tears slipping down his cheeks but the soldier never made a sound. The whole ride she held his hand on his uninjured side. Occasionally, she had to check on the other wounded but she always returned back to the young soldier. He never cried out, just whispered a near silent 'thank you' and held her hand tightly. 

 She could hear the men being told to stay put until further orders were given. Most were used to the routine by now. Stand around until directed where to go next. It was something she was adjusting too. Ignoring those yelling commands around her, she fixed her mangled uniform and coat as much as possible and looked up at her patient/companion. 

 "I'll be right back." She tapped the young soldier's leg before walking away in search of Medic Christianson. 

 She found him talking to one of the other medics, standing near a different tank. "Arthur, what do we do now?" She asked, rubbing her hands together to try and warm them up. Spring and its accompanying warmth could not come soon enough. 

 "We need to find the aid station they have here. Hopefully get the men moved there and transported to a hospital." He said, lighting a cigarette. After a drag, he pinched the bridge of his nose. "Right, I'll go. Keep an eye on those around here."

 "I'll come with you." She said probably far too brightly if the looks given to her said anything.  

 His green eyes narrowed at her a moment before he shrugged. "Fine. Let's go."

 She started to follow him, arms wrapped around herself in the large army-issued coat. For a second she wondered if she should tell Boyd where she was going then she dismissed it. He was not her keeper. She was here to do her job. 

 They wandered into the corpse-like city of Haguenau. It looked desolate. A mere illusion of what it had once been before war corrupted its beauty. Bombed buildings, craters in the streets, the staining of blood scattered along the ground and snow. Anna had never seen a place like this before. 

 After receiving directions from a passing Sergeant, they found the building housing the aid station. It was a two-story house that looked semi-stable, but far better than others surrounding it. Which was not a high standard. Anna and Arthur quickly ascended the steps and walked inside, not just to get out of the cold but to avoid the sporadic mortars. 

 "Something you need?" A voice asked them as soon as Arthur closed the door behind them. 

 The two looked over to see a man watching them from a side room. He had short black hair, thin beard, open face and medic badge on his arm. His head was tilted to the side, the cap on his head sliding slightly with the movement.

 "We just arrived with our company and we've got wounded." Arthur said, taking charge and moving another step into the building.  

 "Uh huh." The man eyed them then turned back and called out toward another room. "Hey, Roe!" He looked back at the two by the door, it was obvious the calculations crossing his mind as he prepared his question. "How many wounded?"

 "Eighteen."

 "Shit. What happened?"

 Anna kept back, allowing Arthur to take the lead. The dark-haired medic's eyes flickered towards her occasionally as if wondering what she was doing there but chose not to ask. Rubbing her hands together, a brief smile lifted the corners of her lips. Just being indoors, the permanent chill in her bones receded just enough she did not worry her legs would turn to icicles. It had only been a few days since the company left the small French town but being continuously outdoors, day and night, was something Anna found she disliked fervently. She looked over as she heard footsteps coming around the corner. 

 Arthur was still talking to the dark-haired medic, explaining what happened. "They laid landmines in the road, then when we stopped they fired on us from the surrounding woods. Perfect fucking ambush."

 "Damn Nazis." The medic shook his head. "You hear that, Gene?"

 The one called for came around the corner. He also had dark hair, pale skin and a sharp jawline. His eyes though were dull and a hint of red lingered around his nose like he was getting over a cold. His uniform was clean but even that could not distract from how bone-deep weary he appeared. "I 'eard. We got room upstairs. Won't be an issue."

 She froze, her mind whirling. That voice. She recognized it. Not many medics she had encountered had such a distinct Cajun drawl. Her brain frantically raced trying to remember where she knew it from. 

 "Eugene?" She found herself asking, hesitation in her voice. The man's head whipped over to stare at her. "Eugene Roe?"

 "Yes, ma'am. Have we met?"

 "Yes… I mean." She tucked some loose stands of her hair behind her ear, nervous that he would not remember her. "It…. It was back in Albourne. We did some training together. I'm Anna… Anna Cooper."

 One could watch the light bulb go off in his mind and his eyes light up. "Chérie?" His voice almost held an element of awe to it, that she was here and real. 

 She nodded, feeling tears fill her eyes. There was something in the simple nickname that tugged at her heart's strings. It reminded her of a time before war. Before blood and screams. Before the memories of death were stronger than memories of home. When it would just be the two of them at the aid station in Albourne practicing bandaging one another or swapping stories of their homes when homesickness struck them. 

 He hesitated for a moment before walking towards her. Seeing him move, she practically sprinted to him. They collided in that drafty building in Haguenau and for a moment, both felt like they could feel the sunshine on their faces and a spring rain to cleanse the taint of death from their skin. She wrapped her arms around him, burying her face in his chest. His own arms enclosed around her much smaller frame, surrounding her in warmth. Tears slipped down her cheeks, wetting his ODs. For once, she was not even ashamed. 

 "It's alright, chérie, it's alright."

 She laughed wetly, tipping her head up to look at him. "I can't even tell you how happy I am to see you."

 "I got that impression." 

 "Don't ruin the moment, Gene."

 He chuckled, pressing a chaste kiss to her forehead. "It's good to see ya too." He released her to step back and fully look at her. It was then he seemed to finally noticed her attire, or lack thereof. His eyes narrowed staring at her bare legs and short uniform boots before jumping back up to her face. "How did ya end up here? And what 'appened to ya uniform? Ya must be freezin'."

 "It's a long story...and we ran out of bandages, so…" she shrugged, gesturing to her clothes, self-conscious of her exposed skin. 

 Gene and the other medic shared a look before Gene looked back. "I expect to ‘ear it later, and we'll find ya some spare ODs. Spina, we got any in the new winter lot?"

 "Uh...I think so." The dark-haired medic responded, eyebrows almost touching his forehead. 

 "How many wounded y’all got?" Gene asked Anna.

 "Eighteen."

 "Bring 'em here. We'll make room. Medics?"

 Arthur answered this time, arms crossed over his chest. "Three medics and Nurse Cooper."

 "Good. Know how long y’all stayin'?"

 "No." She peeked over at Arthur, who confirmed her answer with a short nod. "We only just arrived."

 Gene looked over at Arthur. "Careful bringin' 'em here. We'll get space set and some coffee for ya." He peered down at Anna, eyes softening. "Let's get ya some warmer clothes, chérie."

 "I swear you're an angel… a Cajun angel."

 He chuckled, shaking his head. "Whatever ya say." Putting an arm around her shoulders, he guided her towards a different room. 

 And for a moment, she was reminded that one could find joy even in the midst of war. 

 *****

 The tank commander stood in the back of the crumbling, dank room observing the scene before him. He had followed Captain Evans and his two lieutenants to the HQ for the battalion holding Haguenau. Personally, he would rather be back with his men instead of here listening to formal introductions. This battalion did specifically ask for him and his platoon, so he steeled himself to get through this.  

 "I'm Captain Evans of the 103rd Infantry Division. This is Lieutenant Diggs and Lieutenant Cox. Behind them is Staff Sergeant Collier of the Armored Division." The Captain, who was clearly the oldest in the room by at least a decade or two, stood in the middle of what most likely used to be a nice living room, if the damaged chandelier hanging above him said anything. Now the place looked somewhere between trashed and abandoned. His two lieutenants stood just behind him as the introductions took place. "I'll get to the damn point, eh? We were blitz attacked on our way here, lost twenty-two men and another eighteen wounded. Fucking Krauts. I'm requesting permission to regroup and have our wounded taken care of before we move out."

 The red-head with the Captain's bars on his jacket nodded quickly, granting permission before Captain Evans even finished asking. "Of course. We don't have a lot to spare but we will what we can." He reached his hand out to shake hands with the grizzled captain. "I'm Captain Winters of the 506th Parachute Infantry Regiment, 101st Airbourne."

 "Paratroopers, eh?" The older man eyed the other captain after shaking hands.  "Heard you are some mean bastards. Nice to see the reputation isn't wrong for once."

 "Just doing our jobs."

 "Right. We'll get outta here, eh? Thank you again, Captain."

 "Sure." Captain Winters stated kindly but still with a hint of a guarded tone. "You need anything, ask for myself or Lieutenant Speirs of Easy Company."

 With a final nod, Captain Evans and his two lieutenants walked out. A strange silence fell over those in the room after the door slammed shut behind the Infantrymen. Don suddenly felt like he was back in the elementary school yard and was waiting to get picked for a team. Thankfully the silence did not last long. 

 "Armored Division? Are you our supposed tanks?" A dark-haired man asked, sitting propped up in a corner, flask openly in hand. This was his first time speaking, instead having just watched the prior introductions with a cocky grin.

 Don eyed him, noting the Captain bars on his uniform. "Yes, sir. 2nd Armored Division or what's left of it."

 Captain Winters stepped forward to shake Don's hand. "Thank you for coming so quickly."

 "Yeah, could have used you two months ago. Hell, even a month ago could have saved lives." The other Captain muttered then took a sip from his flask. Don tensed but then noticed the unnamed Captain's aggression seemed more directed at whatever happened two months ago versus Don himself. 

 The red-head looked over his shoulder. "Nix…"

 "Yeah, yeah, I know."

 Winters looked back at Don. "How many tanks do you have?"

 "Four, sir."

 "Good...good. There is talk of some smaller towns nearby we will need you for, to provide assistance with liberating and securing. Until we know for sure, your men find somewhere to stay. As of now, you are under my direct command, understand?"

 "Yes, sir."

 "That'll be all, Sergeant Collier."

 Don gave a quick salute and headed back out into the bombed out town. As he walked back towards the tanks, he thought about the man whose command he was now under. Captain Winters. There was a calculating intelligence in his eyes, not in a malicious way, but more as a chess master. When he asked Don about the number of tanks, it was apparent his mind immediately took the information and began processing how best to utilize them. Don also noticed how when a mortar landed particularly close to the building, making the few pictures left on the walls shake, neither the red-headed Captain nor the dark-haired one flinched. At all. The tank commander was unsure fully what to make of the other Captain- this Nix- but he approved so far of what he has seen in Captain Winters. He was a man obviously in control with his authority but was not so far up in the clouds he forgot about his foot soldiers. A rare trait amongst Regiment in Don's opinion. 

 By the time Don arrived back, it seemed most of the infantrymen had dispersed into the city leaving the tanks and their crews waiting for him. He hoped they could find a decent building to claim without resorting to violence. At this point, he was not above punching a few Privates to make sure his crew got a good roof over their heads. 

 "What's the orders?" Binkowski asked, eyeing the city warily. 

 Don sighed, rubbing a hand over his face before answering. "Under a Captain Winters now. Said to stay put until orders are confirmed but sounds like we'll help secure some towns nearby."

 "Heard they're paratroopers." Davis said. He leaned against his tank, lighting up a cigarette. 

 "Yep." The sound of a mortar went off nearby. Don watched Norman startle out of the corner of his eye then rub his nose on his sleeve. He made a mental note to check on the kid once they got settled.

 "Paratroopers?" One of Davis' crew muttered, standing just off to the side. 

 "The idiots that volunteered to jump out of planes." Binkowski answered with a snort and shake of his blond head. 

 "On purpose?" The crew member's eyes widened. Don tried to remember the man's name. Kohl… Colbert… Coulson… something like that. 

 Gordo said, sitting on top of Fury. "Heard they are some real sonsofbitches."

 Don smirked. "Guess we'll find out. Let's find somewhere to claim before all the houses are filled up."

 The men began to move, ready to find somewhere to bunk down. Don surveyed around once more, wondering what awaited them in this hell hole.

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

Alright, what did y’all think of Easy’s introductions? Lemme know what you think!

[theseusernamesarehard]

Stuck in the middle - Fred Weasley

Inspired by the song Stuck In The Middle by Tai Verdes

Lyrics from the song are bolded.

Summary: Y/N catches Fred Weasley’s eye one day, but instead of agreeing to a date, she calls him out for his player ways making him even more obsessed with her. The two keep balancing on the line between friends and more, but can’t seem to cross over onto either side.

Pairing: Fred Weasley x Ravenclaw!Reader

Warnings: cursing, some very light allusions to smut

Word count: 3.7k

(gif isn’t mine credit to whoever made it!)

Fred Weasley was certainly known around Hogwarts, for better of for worse. During his six year run at Hogwarts, he had amassed quite the reputation. Teachers knew him as one half of their nightmares, the Weasley twins, while most students, especially female ones, knew him as the fit and charming prankster who seemingly couldn’t stay single for too long. 

“What’s got you so focused Fred?” George grinned at the Great Hall, watching his brother.

“Seems to be the Ravenclaw table. Who could it be? Any guesses, guys?” Angelina replied.

“Cho Chang?” Lee tried. 

“Hmm...No, he’s looking a little bit left to her”, Katie said.

“I think it’s the girl a few seats over. She’s in our year right?” Angelina suggested.

“Yeah, she’s in my numerology class, I think. Y/N L/N”, Alicia confirmed.

“So you going to talk to her?” George asked, but he ended up having to wave his hand in front of his brothers gaze to get him to focus. “Fred?”

“Huh?” he seemed to snap out of something. “Sorry, what’s up?”

“We were just discussing the target of your admiration”, George said.

“What are you talking about?” Fred laughed.

“You not being able to keep your eyes away from the Ravenclaw table”, Angelina smiled. “Who were you looking at?”

“No one”, Fred replied.

“Really? Not even Y/N L/N?” Alicia asked.

“So that’s her name.”

“Are you going to admit that you were staring?” George asked.

“I will neither confirm nor deny that statement. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to go”, Fred said after noticing the girl exciting the Great Hall. He got up and went after her, eventually falling into pace with the Ravenclaw. 

She raised her eyebrow at him, having never even shared a class or talked to the boy.

“Looking for something?” Y/N asked.

“I was. The most beautiful girl ever. Lucky for me, the search is finally over”, he said and caused her to roll her eyes. “Like the line, eh?”

“If by ‘like’ you mean ‘find incredibly corny and almost embarrassing’ then yes. I love it.”

“Good, because there are many more where that came from. You can find those out, if you agree to go to Hogsmeade with me this Saturday.”

“So you’ve come to ask me out?”

“It seems as though I have.”

“Unfortunately I’m going to have to decline.”

“What? Why?”

“I think you know why.”

“I cannot think of even one reason why you shouldn’t give me a chance.”

“You’re a player, aren’t you?” 

“Not into quidditch guys then?”

“The other kind of player. The type that plays with girl’s emotions instead of bludgers.”

“Sounds like you don’t know me at all. I’m nothing like that and if you gave Hogsmeade a chance, I could prove it.”

“Trust me, Fred Weasley, I know you quite well. And from what I know, you’re a player, whether you choose to ignore it or not. I’m very sorry, but my answer is still no. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to get to the library”, she said and with that, left him standing at the corridor.

“Judging by your expression she turned you down”, George said as Fred entered the Gryffindor common room.

“Sure did.”

“Why? I mean, we don’t blame her but for some reason girls usually find you utterly irresistible”, Lee asked.

“Not all girls”, Alicia noted, Katie and Angelina nodding.

“Sorry, all girls that don’t know him.”

“She claimed she did know me. Called me a player and walked off.”

“Quite rude”, Lee said.

“But understandable”, Angelina added.

“Don’t you accuse me of that as well”, Fred groaned.

“Well the time between a relationship ending and a new one beginning has usually been suspiciously short when it comes to you”, Katie said.

“I prefer to think I just go with the flow.”

“I think there have been more than a few instances where you have also blatantly disregarded girls’ feelings”, Alicia pointed out.

“Fine, maybe I am a bit of a player. But I don’t think that means she shouldn’t give me a chance.”

“She probably just doesn’t want to waste her time. You have a reputation and if she knows that, I don’t blame her for thinking you’re going to break her heart”, Alicia said.

“Well I guess I’ll just have to convince her I won’t.”

“Why not just let it go? I mean I’m sure there are other girls at Hogwarts who would die to go on a date with you”, George asked.

“Because this is now about me proving her wrong.”

Next weekend at Hogsmeade, Y/N was walking around the village with her friends, chatting about pretty much nothing when she felt a hand tap on her shoulder. She turned around to a grinning Fred Weasley.

“What do you want?” she asked him.

“Christ, what happened to the act of greeting someone? Just a simple hello, how are you?” Fred pouted.

“Don’t have a lot of time, had to cut to the chase”, she replied bluntly.

“I’ll be quick. Mind if I borrow her for a second?” he asked her friends, who all replied with enthusiasm. 

“No, not at all. Take your time”, one of her friends smiled.

“Make it quick”, Y/N corrected as she let him drag her away from her friends.

“Just wait a second.”

“Waiting is literally the opposite of quick.”

“No, slow is the opposite of quick.”

“Well waiting is very slow, so my point still stands.”

“As much as I would love to argue this with you. We’ve arrived at our destination”, he said and gestured at the sign of Three Broomsticks.

“I thought I made myself quite clear when I declined you offer”, Y/N noted.

“Ah, but you see you declined my offer of a date. Now this is another offer. How about we go to Three Broomsticks as friends?”

“Why do you want to do that? It seems quite hard to believe there are no underlying motivations here.”

“What on earth could those be?”

“Oh, I don’t know. Perhaps you want me to come here as a friend with the hopes it will turn into something more? Which then means that you aren’t asking me as a friend.”

“You are right and wrong. I do have other motivations, but I am not asking you for anything more than your friendship. I want to prove you wrong.”

“Prove me wrong? About what exactly?”

“About me being a player.”

“You can’t fool me like that. There isn’t a lot that you can do to make me change my mind.”

“Why don’t you try me on that? I know you wanna be friends.”

“Fine, one butterbeer and no funny business.”

“You won’t regret it.”

And to (Y/N)’s surprise, she didn’t. Fred was good company and she ended up having fun. 

“So you’ve finished your drink. One could say our deal is up”, Fred smirked.

“Are you trying to justify any funny business? Because I was just starting to think you might not be such a prick after all.”

“Ha! So I proved you wrong then?”

“No. I said you might not be such a prick. And besides, being a player doesn’t require being a prick.”

“Well, how can I prove you wrong?”

“You don’t have to.”

“I kind of do.”

“Why?”

“I tend to be quite stubborn.”

“Well you can’t really change my mind on this.”

“How are you so sure?”

“Because I tend to be quite stubborn as well.”

“So I suppose there’s no dating you anytime soon then?”

“No, but friends does sound pretty good”, she smiled.

But friends turn into sleepovers, AKA long nights in the common room, that  might have ended in one of their dorms a few times. And after some time, sleepovers turn into love or at least something similar to that. The only problem with that happened to be that neither expressed those feeling to one another. They didn’t know what they were or if they even were anything. They hadn’t had the need to figure their relationship out, until one day.

“Hello? Fred? Freddie? Frederick Gideon Weasley!” George said, trying to get his brother’s attention. Fred didn’t seem to notice him, eyes fixated on an exchange at the Ravenclaw table, until his brother poked him in the side quite harshly.

“What?” he turned.

“You’re staring like a creep”, Katie noted.

“This time there isn’t really a need to guess who it is though”, Lee smirked. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Please! I saw her sneaking out of your bed just two nights ago!”

“Who?” Fred tried, but knew all hope was lost at that point.

“I saw Y/N. There is literally no need to hide it, because you two are so bloody obvious.” 

“No we aren’t!” Fred argued.

“Please, Fred. We’ve all seen you two sneak out of corridors looking a bit disheveled”, Angelina said.

“Not to mention all the times she’s come to the Gryffindor common room”, Katie noted.

“As friends! She’s come up to hang out with us as friends!”

“And yet somehow you two are always the last one’s there. Alone.”

“And somehow that always ends up either with me having to hear you two making out on your way up the stairs or me having to wake up to you sneaking back to bed at five am!” George joined.

“So will you just admit that you two are together?” Angelina asked.

“No! Because we’re not. I-I don’t what we are, but clearly we aren’t together”, he said, nodding towards the Ravenclaw table, where Y/N seemed to be talking with some Durmstrang boy.

“Ah, I see the problem”, Alicia said.

“That doesn’t mean anything, though”, George comforted.

“Please. She’s been laughing at his jokes for the entirety of dinner and even did the thing where she flings her hair over her shoulder”, Fred said, plopping his head in his hands.

“Maybe she doesn’t want to get any hair in her mouth?” Lee tried.

“See this is completely ridiculous. She clearly thinks she can’t trust me and I bet she’s just been using me this whole time. Lucky for her, two can play at that game.”

“So you’re just going to prove her point about you being a player?” Katie asked.

“No, I’m going to show her that I don’t care about what she does.”

“Sure, that seems like the healthy thing to do”, George muttered.

“Angelina, I need you to do me a favour.”

Love turns into jealousy and now we both fucked up.

Y/N was just about to walk out of the Great Hall, when she heard Fred at the Gryffindor table.

“Angelina, want to go to the Yule Ball with me?”

Of bloody course. Y/N had known about Fred’s reputation with girls and that was the reason she didn’t want to go out with him in the first place. She was supposed to be smarter than that! But she couldn’t help developing feelings for him after finding out how truly charming he could be. It wasn’t her fault that he always managed to make her laugh of roll her eyes with his cheesy lines. It wasn’t her fault that he somehow always managed to win at exploding snap. And it certainly wasn’t her fault that she couldn’t help kissing him back when he leaned in one night at the Gryffindor common room.

She originally hadn’t had any intentions to do anything with the Durmstrang boy, even though he was relentlessly flirting with her, but after seeing Fred so casually ask someone else to the ball, clearly without even sacrificing a thought to her, she was fuming. So like any sensible person, she turned around and went to find the boy. He was still in the Great Hall, so making sure that she was in hearing of the Gryffindor table, she asked him if he would like to go the ball with her. To which he agreed very excitedly, to Fred’s annoyance.

Fred and Y/N didn’t talk for the entirety of the time leading up to the Yule Ball, both mad at the other person.

“Y/N, it’s completely okay to be upset about the Fred thing”, one of her friends said carefully at dinner, the day before the ball.

“I’m not upset!” she snapped. “I knew something exactly like this would happen, which is why I didn’t date him!”

“Perhaps you were never official, but it was quite obvious something was going on there. You don’t have to try and deny that.”

“Whatever, let’s talk about something else. I’m sick of him.”

“I’m sick of her!” Fred said the same day at the Gryffindor table.

“I’m starting to be too with having to hear him complain about her all the time”, Lee muttered to the others.

“Why won’t you just talk to her”, George suggested.

“Because there’s nothing to talk about”, Fred claimed.

“Then what have you been babbling on about for the past two weeks? It’s always Y/N this and Y/N that”, Alicia said.

“She’s right. If I have to hear about her and that Durmstrang boy one more time you’re going to the ball by yourself!” Angelina claimed. “It’s already bad enough you used me to get revenge on her.”

“Not my fault you owed me one. A favour is a favour and you can’t not do it anymore.”

“Still, just talk to her. Please?” George tried one last time.

“No. She made her choice and I am completely okay with that.”

But he wasn’t. Everyone could see that. If only he could see that Y/N wasn’t close to okay either. The two should’ve seen this coming, both of them having admitted to extreme stubbornness right from the start, but they didn’t.

So needless to say, neither of them was having much fun at the ball. Both jealous and mad at the other person.

“That’s it. I can’t take this anymore”, Angelina sighed. “I’m taking matters into my own hands.”

Before Fred could say anything, she had walked off to Y/N and her date, who were sitting at one of the tables, not talking to each other.

“Hi Y/N! Would you mind if I borrowed your date for a second? Mine seems to be no fun”, she smiled.

“Umm...I guess I don’t?” Y/N said, confused as to what was happening.

“Great! You can definitely borrow Fed for a dance if you’d like.”

“I don’t think that’s a good ide-”, Y/N tried, but was interrupted by Angelina grabbing her hand and leading her to Fred. 

“You two have fun!” Angelina smiled and returned to the Durmstrang boy.

“I had no idea she was going to do that”, Fred assured.

“It’s fine”, Y/N sighed. Both of them just stood there awkwardly for a moment.

“I think we don’t really have any other choice, but to dance”, Fred said.

“I guess we don’t”, she smiled slightly.

They went up to the floor and danced silently to a slow song. His hands placed on her waist and hers wrapped around his neck.

“So...a Durmstrang boy, huh?” Fred asked after a while.

“Angelina, huh?” Y/N asked back.

“Owed me a favour”, he shrugged slightly.

“Why would you ask her as a favour when half of Hogwarts would’ve loved nothing more than to be your date?” Y/N laughed.

“Perhaps, because the one girl I wanted to go with was clearly planning on going with someone else”, he said. They were quite literally dancing on the line of something neither of them truly wanted to admit to.

“Who?” Y/N asked. 

“Wow, for a Ravenclaw you don’t seem to be that smart”, he laughed. “I err...I wanted to ask you.”

“What?” her eyes were wide with shock and disbelief. “You’re joking, aren’t you?

“Why would I be joking?” they had now stopped dancing, both just staring at each other on the dance floor.

“Because you’re the one who asked Angelina first!”

“I only asked Angelina, because you were clearly flirting with the Durmstrang boy!”

“I wasn’t flirting with him!”

“You asked him to the ball, didn’t you?”

“I asked him because you had asked Angelina right in front of me!”

Fred couldn’t help, but to stat laughing uncontrollably.

“What?” Y/N asked, not seeing what was so funny about the situation.

“This is ridiculous!”

“Why is that?”

“I thought you were flirting with the Durmstrang boy, so I got jealous and asked Angelina, which made you get jealous and drove you to ask the Durmstrang boy!”

Now Y/N was starting to laugh too, seeing how ridiculous their situation truly was.

“We’re both bloody idiots, aren’t we?”

“Maybe idiocy loves company too”, Fred smiled and finally closed the gap between them.

After breaking apart from the kiss, which had started out innocent, but had been well on it’s to getting them both kicked out of the ball, the pair noticed way too many grinning faces around them. Y/N was quite sure she saw a few of her friends exchanging coins.

“I think I could use some fresh air”, Fred said, glaring at his friends. 

“Me too, How about a walk around the garden?” Y/N smiled.

The two left hand in hand followed by a choir of ‘ooh’s produced by their friends, which they chose two ignore. As soon as they had sat down on the grass under the grass, Fred tried to lean in, but she stopped him by putting her finger on his lips.

“I want to talk with you”, she said.

“That’s new”, he smirked.

“Shut up”, she rolled her eyes. “I feel like tonight and everything leading up to tonight kind of proved something.”

“Proved what?”

“That we need to figure this out.”

“What’s there to figure out? You like me, I like you. Let’s just go back to how it was a few weeks ago.”

“Are you serious? Everything is to figure out. We’re stuck in the middle of lovers and friends. Don’t tell me you haven’t noticed it too. We’re not dating, but we’re not friends, we get jealous, but don’t say anything about it, because we’re not together. But if we were just friends, we wouldn’t have any reason to be jealous.”

“It’s not ideal, is it?”

“We’re losing every part of the benefit.”

“I wasn’t planning on admitting this, but you hurt me more than I ever knew” he said and Y/N saw a veil pulled back, a mask of confidence being removed. Fred had wanted to keep up the player reputation, but he found out just how bitter his own medicine tasted. “And it’s shitty ‘cause I’m doing the same to you.”

“We’ll figure it out”, she promised, placing her hand on top of his. He looked up at her sparkling eyes.

“The moonlight really does you justice you know”, he said quietly.

“Same goes for you too”, she said back, their faces now mere inches from each other.

And without realizing, they didn’t talk about well...anything for the rest of the night, especially not about what they were. But luckily, Y/N was determined to not put the conversation off for another day. So at breakfast the next day after the ball, she went up to him at his table.

“Have any time?” she asked.

“Always for you, love”, he smiled sheepishly. “Don’t wait up!” he yelled to his friends as she grabbed is hand and dragged him away.

“An empty classroom, eh?” he wiggled his eyebrows as they arrived to the destination.

“Keep it in your pants, pervert. We still haven’t talked.”

“Right. I guess we did get a little distracted last night.”

“Are we exclusive or not?” she asked, wanting to get the conversation over with.

“I don’t know. What do you want to do? Seems like you love me a lot.” he grinned.

“Can we stop the joking and take me seriously?”

“Fine”, he sighed. “I’ll do my very best, bu we’ll have to wait and see”, he promised while leaning in.

Their problem seemed to be that with them talks turn into sleepless nights and sleepless nights turn into love. For Y/N, love turns into impatience.

“You still haven’t answered me”, she cornered him one day in an empty corridor.

“About what?”

“What are we?”

“I did answer you. I said we are whatever you want us to be.”

“That’s not how it works! Both of us need to agree on it. You saying you’re fine with everything means that you don’t want anything serious!”

“No, it doesn’t.”

“Yes it does. It means that you just want to keep doing whatever you want with whoever you want!”

“Don’t put words in my mouth! I haven’t been doing anything with anyone. This is just about you not trusting me!”

“No, this is about you avoiding every conversation I try to have about this, which is why I can’t trust you. You’re clearly just waiting until you eventually get sick of me and want to move on with as little breaking up and guilt as you can!”

And now we both fucked up.

“So you still think of me like that? A player who is just waiting for an opportunity to jump on the next girl that comes by, huh?” he asked, hurt by her words.

“Nothing has changed since the Yule Ball. We’re still stuck in the middle.”

“You need to understand that I don’t want anyone else. If I have to be stuck in the middle with someone, I want to be stuck in the middle with you.”

He pulled her in for a hug. Tighter than any other one before. It was like he was scared of letting go. Their problem was how bad they were at feelings. Especially their feelings for each other, that were growing stronger by the moment. ‘Cause fights turn into making up and making up turns into love. Neither of them were brave enough to admit that they were falling in love with each other. Not to themselves, and certainly not to the other person. 

“I want us to be together”, Fred murmured into her hair. 

“What?”

“You’ve asked me a million times what I want us to be and I didn’t want to admit this because...I don’t know why. Perhaps because I’ve never cared about what anyone thinks of me as much as I care about what you think of me. And besides, relationships turn into love and-”, he took a deep breath. Y/N saw that this was another one of those moments when the mask of confidence and cockyness was being removed. “Love turns into forever and to be honest, that scares me.”

“I think that scares both of us.”

“Lucky for you, I’m a Gryffindor”, he smiled, the mask not coming back, but a slight glimmer in his eyes appearing. “Facing fears is kind of our thing. So what do you say Y/N? Want to be with me forever and ever and ever?”

Y/N replied by simply kissing him.

“Is that a yes or-?”, he asked once they broke apart.

“You’re even dafter than I thought, Weasley. Of course it’s a yes. I want to be yours forever and ever and ever and ever-”, she mocked.

“Just shut up and kiss me again.”

And she did. They both broke up with wide smiles on their faces.

“So you’re my boyfriend now, huh?”

“I’m sorry did you prefer lover?”

“Certainly not, I think boyfriend will do for now.”

“As you wish, girlfriend”, he grinned, nudging her slightly.

“Don’t say it like that. Its making me want to go back to friends.”

“Unfortunately you’re stuck with me for forever and ever and ever, remember?”, he said cheerfully and put an arm around her shoulder.

“At least stuck with you and not stuck in the middle.”

[sirowsky]

The Flowers Always Know

Description: When a mad scientist uses you as an experiment while you’re on holiday, the Heroics only just manage to save you. And in your recovery you become very close to the leader of the group. (Slow burn)

Rating: Mature

Warnings: Language.

Link to Masterlist

Comment: The aftermath of the confrontation leads to some unexpected fun. But also some annoyances.

Chapter 25

  When you got home, Missy and Anita were waiting for you in the living room, and you could tell that they’d been worried.   Missy had quite clearly been crying and she shot up and came to hug you the moment you stepped through the door.   When you’d left the house that morning, you’d done it absolutely terrified for her safety, and while you hoped that that threat was gone now, you didn’t know it for sure. And that made it such a relief to see her safe and sound, and untouched by the darkness from your past.

  “I’m so sorry I scared you, angel.”

  “You just took off! I didn’t know where you were, and then dad got really scared cause he knew where you’d gone, but he wouldn’t tell me and I didn’t understand what was happening!”

  She broke into tears again while she spoke, rambling everything out in a hurry as though she thought that she might not get it all out otherwise.

  “I’m sorry, sweetie. I was really scared too.”

  “Why?”

  You took a breath and looked at Marcus to see if he was okay with you telling her the truth. He nodded and took your hand.

  “The man from earlier… that was my brother. And he is not a good person.”

  She pulled back and stared at you.

  “The one you were so angry at you made the house shake? He’s your brother?!”

  “Yeah. When we were kids, he hurt me really badly, and today… he threatened to hurt you too.”

  She looked horrified, and it made your whole chest ache. Marcus’ hand tightened on yours, but he seemed to want you to do the talking. Missy was still holding you around the waist, and her grip tightened too.

  “But, why?”

  “Because you’re my daughter. Because he knew that by threatening you, I’d do what he wanted. And I did, but I did it knowing that I could, and would defeat him.”

  “Thank you, Alma.”

  “Hey, you don’t need to thank me for protecting you, that’s what families are supposed to do.”

  “I know, I was thanking you for adopting me. That’s the first time you’ve called me your daughter.”

  You smiled a little teary-eyed.

  “Actually, it’s the second time.”

  “When was the first?”

  “Telling my ass-backwards no-good piece-of-shit-family not to lay a hand you.”

   Missy smiled glowingly, but Anita scoffed.

  “Are you ever gonna stop using that kind of foul language in front of her?”

  “Sometimes, there’s just no substitute for a good expletive. Besides, have you ever heard her use one?”

  Anita just cocked an eyebrow at you.

  “Exactly. That’s because she’s smart enough to know that just because I’m beyond salvation, doesn’t mean she has to be.”

  “It’s still bad manners, mujer.”

  “And you’re still not fooling anyone. You were just as worried about me as Missy was. You can admit it, I won’t laugh at you. I might even hug you.”

  “Hah, that’ll never happen.”

  “Which part? Cause if it’s the hug you’re talking about – consider that a challenge accepted.”

  “Don’t even think about it, loco.”

  “Don’t worry. Obviously, I plan on getting you when you least expect it.”

  “You really think you can sneak up on me? Oh, that’ll be the day.”

  Your stomach suddenly growled, and Missy, being right in front of it, actually flinched and pulled away from you in shock.

  “Holy cow! You weren’t kidding, dad, that really does sound like a bear.”

  Marcus tried not to laugh, but his shoulders were shaking and his face contorted into a strained grimace.

  “You guys discussed my intestinal vocalisations? Really?”

  Marcus gave up and doubled over, laughing in earnest, while Missy tried to elaborate through her own giggling-fit.

  “Good thing, too… or I might’ve… called a… wildlife animal rescue…”

  “Alright, that’s it. I’ll give you something to laugh about!”

  You attacked them both with tickling, knowing exactly where to hit them for maximum effect, and using your ghost hands to reach them both. Which was particularly annoying to them since those hands couldn’t be waved off. You chased them into the kitchen and continued your attack while telling them to yield, and never laugh at your stomach again, to which they both shouted – never!   But after just a few minutes, your energy started to drain again, and you had to sit down on one of the kitchen chairs.

  “Hermosa? You okay?”

  “I think my body just remembered how much energy I wasted this morning.”

  Anita came into the kitchen and clapped her hands together.

  “Well, then, lunch it is. Who wants enchiladas?”

  As was becoming your routine, you ate as much as the rest of them combined, all by yourself, and then all but passed out once you were full.   You didn’t remember getting into bed, but you woke up there anyway, and the clock on the wall said 14:23. You’d slept for about two hours.   You groaned a little and rolled over, accidentally elbowing Marcus.

  “Oh, shit! I didn’t realise you were here, sorry!”

  He just hummed a laugh, and slung his arm around your waist.

  “You’ve done worse.”

  “Ugh, don’t remind me…”

  “How many times do I have to tell you, preciosa: you can attack me anytime.”

  “Well, I’d rather attack you like this.”

  You rolled on top of him and kissed him, and he made an affectionate sound in the back of his throat, but his hands came up to push your face away from his, after a few moments.   You frowned. He’d never pushed you away before.

  “Are you okay?”

  “Yes, of course. I just wanna talk to you.”

  Damn. That was always a mood-killer. You rolled off of him again and sat up and folded your legs together so that you could rest your elbows against your knees. He just pushed himself up on his elbow and laid there looking like some Greek god.

  “Okay. Let’s talk then. What’s on your mind?”

  “Marriage.”

  Gulp! Fuck… Give a girl some warning, for Christ’s sake.

  “Oh…”

  It was literally all you could choke out. But he just smiled.

  “You do remember saying yes to me, right?”

  You just nodded. Was that yesterday? Shit. What day was yesterday?

  “Well, first off, there was something missing from that moment, but it really wasn’t planned, so I didn’t have time to get it. That said, I do have a ring picked out for you, and I am going to go and get it as soon as I can.”

  You just swallowed hard, certain your voice was still non-existent.

  “Second, I’d like to know what kind of wedding you’d prefer? I’m not saying we have to start planning right away, I realise that it’s a big deal, especially for you. I’d just like to start talking about it, get comfortable with it.”

  Right. Comfortable.

  “……I hv…”

  Your voice really wasn’t cooperating. You tried clearing your throat, but it just sort of hissed. Thankfully, Marcus wasn’t fazed. He knew you well enough to know that your nervousness came from insecurity, not cold feet, and he also knew just how to help you with that.   He sat up and scooted closer to you so he could kiss you in that tender way that made you feel safe and wanted, while his current washed over your whole body.   It still came out hoarse, but at least your voice started working.

  “I’ve never… I’ve never once thought about it. I have no idea what I might like.”

  “Okay. Well, I’d like it to be small, just us and our closest friends. And I’m pretty traditional. I like the whole not seeing the dress before the ceremony, not sleeping together the night before. I don’t need a church, or an altar, just as long as there’s a priest to help me get through the vows, because I know I’ll forget how to even formulate sentences.”

  “Wow. You’re pretty clear on all this. But then, I suppose I would be too, if it wasn’t my first time.”

  “Missy’s mother and I, we did the whole celebrity wedding, and it was nice, don’t get me wrong. But it was more of a publicity stunt than our wedding-day. I always regretted that. I don’t wanna have any regrets with you.”

  “Good. But I’m gonna ask for some time to think about this.”

  He smiled.

  “You mean ‘do research’.”

  “Well, yeah, how else am I gonna figure out what I like?”

  “Take as much time as you need, mi amor.”

  You smiled and kissed him again, and this time he didn’t push you back, so you let your hand sneak under his t-shirt and lightly tickle him. He caught it and pulled you forwards until you were straddling him again, and right then, the door to the bedroom flung open and Anita scowled at you.

  “Your timing, woman…”

  “Oh, this time it’s not my timing, I’m afraid. You two had better make yourselves presentable. You’ve got company.”

  Marcus groaned under his breath.

  “Let me guess – Management?”

  “Yep. And they’re less than happy.”

  “Fuck. How much trouble am I in?”

  “That depends.”

  “On?”

  She huffed a little, but her expression was dead serious.

  “On your willingness to play by their rules.”

  Thanks to that comment, you were angry before you even entered the kitchen, where the representative from management, and his assistant, sat at the table, along with a person from the PR section, sitting by the island, a woman you’d never liked to begin with.   You might not have felt quite so confrontational towards them, if they hadn’t looked like they owned the fucking kitchen, just because they happened to be sitting in it.

  “Good afternoon, miss. You’ve had a busy morning.”

  “You have no god damned idea.”

  Marcus had moved to the corner of the kitchen, behind the island, and you knew that Anita and Missy where in the living room. But this was about you. They were here to question you.   You moved up to the table, but didn’t sit down, your energy was building with the tension in your body and you needed to be able to move around.

  “Then why don’t you tell us.”

  “Because this was a family affair, it doesn’t concern you.”

  “It does when an entire acre of lawn is destroyed by an unregistered super.”

  “Unregistered? Don’t fuck with me, Allen. I am in every record imaginable, from my time as a victim, right up until my self-appointed discharge – what? Two days ago? What you meant to say was: Unofficial. You’re only here because I’ve refused to become part of your little band of heroes (no offense, honey) which makes it that much harder for you to explain what happened, because you can’t cite it on official Heroics business.”

  They squirmed a little in their seats. They’d been trying to get you to join the Heroics ever since your assessment was completed, but you weren’t ready for the spandex just yet. You might never be. You still saw yourself as a normal person, and you’d just started getting the hang of the whole Manager-thing when all this happened. You wanted a chance to actually get good at it, before you let it go. It didn’t mean that you wouldn’t still help, if you could.

  “Your actions were witnessed by some of the staff-members at the clinic, and they’re all too happy to make statements to the press. You’re all over the news, honey. And we need to get out in front of that.”

  The PR-woman. The thing you’d always disliked about her, was her falseness. She had this plastered on softness that she probably thought was endearing, but it really wasn’t. You’d seen her real self, and she was a viper, through and through. There was no softness anywhere inside of that woman.

  “First of all – Don’t ever call me ‘honey’.”

  The kitchen started rumbling a little as your energy began to fill the available space.

  “Second – It is your job to stay ahead of the media. If you want me to make a statement, I will, but you won’t like it. Because I’m not gonna just read out whatever company-line-word-vomit I know you already have prepared in that folder of yours. I’ll tell the truth, short and simple, in my own words. Take it or leave it.”

  She just glanced at Allen and his assistant.

  “Third – I just had one of the worst mornings of my life. If you’re gonna come into my home, on a day like this… Do yourselves a favour and don’t antagonise me.”

  You could almost feel Marcus smile over in his corner. He’d always loved it when you took charge.

  “Okay, listen. You’re right. From our standpoint, this is a mess. Since you work for us, already, we can’t publicly address anything to do with your abilities without your expressed permission, and since you refuse to join the team, we can’t say that your actions were approved or valid either. So, right now, we can’t do anything to help the situation at all.”

  “So, let me make a statement.”

  They all looked extremely worried. But Allen continued.

  “What would you say?”

  “That I have a shitty fucking family that tried to exploit me, and since my powers are new, I had a little trouble controlling myself. But hey, nobody died, so yay! How about that?”

  The PR-woman actually groaned. What the hell was her name? You were usually so good with names.

  “Obviously, we’re not going to let you say that.”

  “Let me?”

  The kitchen started shaking, and you felt Marcus move towards you, but you kept him away with your power. You were angry, yes, but in complete control for once.

  “That was a poor choice of words, from Miss. Chopper.”

  Ah, right. You’d always thought of her as Hell-a-copter, that was why you couldn’t remember her name.

  “Since you’re an employee of the Heroics, you have certain obligations too.”

  “Yeah, I know. I can’t talk to the press about anything that relates to HQ without approval from Management or the PR division, don’t worry, I don’t plan to. But, let me be clear: I have no intention of being your fucking puppet either.”

  “Charming.”

  “Fuck you, Erica. I’ve seen you handle media circus’ before, remember. I know exactly how you keep people in line, and if you think I’m gonna let you control anything that comes out of my mouth – you’ve got another thing coming.”

  She glowered at you, but her usually so well-oiled mouth stayed closed. Allen just sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose.

  “Okay. How about this; we make an official statement saying that the events at the clinic were an isolated incident pertaining to a personal conflict involving a powered person. And that said incident is being investigated but since no one was harmed and the damage to the property is manageable, no legal action is being considered at this time. We don’t mention anyone by name, we don’t agree to take any comments, and you don’t use your powers in public again, without our approval.”

  “Your approval? And if a kid falls off of a balcony and I use my powers to save it, you’ll - what? Fire me?”

  “Of course not. But let’s just hope no kids fall off any balconies around you.”

  “That’s it?”

  “That’s the best I can do with what you’re offering us. Keep your powers off the radar, until the blowback from this incident has mellowed out, and then we can talk about where to go next.”

  You just shrugged. It wasn’t a great solution, but it would have to do.

  “Good. Then we’ll expect you back at work first thing Monday morning.”

  “Fine.”

  With that, they left, and you let your powers fade. You hadn’t used enough to drain yourself this time, and it made you feel a little proud of yourself.   Marcus’ arms snaked around your waist from behind, and his chin came to rest on your shoulder.

  “That was entertaining.”

  “It was annoying.”

  “You did good. If you don’t wanna be a Heroic then you’re not going to be, no matter how much they try to persuade you.”

  “Thank you, honey. Ugh… I can’t believe that bitch called me that, in my own kitchen.”

  Anita appeared from the living room, scowling at you again.

  “Don’t even go there, she is a bitch, and you know it just as well as I do.”

  “I didn’t say anything.”

  “You didn’t have to; your eyes are plenty judgemental all on their own.”

  She just walked past you, and started making a fresh pot of coffee. Marcus kissed your cheek and then let go of you to go check on Missy.

  “Hey, Anita, what day is it?”

  “It’s Saturday. Dear lord, you are terrible at keeping track.”

  “Yep. It’s a flaw in my design. Curiously, it didn’t reveal itself until after you hired me, though. What do you actually do at HQ, anyway? I never see you there, never see your name on any paperwork, never hear anyone mention your work, and yet, according to my contract - you are my closest superior.”

  “Because I am.”

  “Then why didn’t Management have a go at your scalp, too?”

  “You don’t really think anyone of those clowns has the guts to take me on, do you? Even you had them trembling in their boots.”

  She had her back to you, so you moved closer to her and was just about to slip your arms underneath hers to tug her into a surprise hug.

  “Touch me, and I’ll pour coffee over your hands.”

  “Damned it. How’d you know?”

  Even from behind, you could see her smile.

  “The flowers always know, loco.”

  You actually looked at the flowers in the kitchen window, suspiciously, wondering if they could somehow speak to her.   Shit. Now, that thought was gonna haunt you forever. There were flowers in every fucking room of the house…

Authors’ Note: I love criticism, don’t be shy to let me know if there’s anything you like/don’t like/have questions about.

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