#he’s a brummie that’s one

[azzurvertz]

happy anniversary to this tweet only 2 weeks late😭😭

[retiredtothebriars]

tbh I’m doing really well putting myself out there these days I’m really proud of myself

[est-pulcher]

I can't be known only for understanding my Lit lecturer's Blackadder references

[fingertipsmp3]

Once again thinking about the person who tried to guess my stepdad’s name and they went with ‘Errol’ as their first guess. What kind of life are you living that Errol is the first name that comes to mind for you

[going-to-ikea-for-the-fries]

It's a Match! || 141 x reader

[ The Prequel ] || [ Chapter 2 ]

Pairing: Gaz x Reader || 141 x gn!Reader Words: 1K~ Summary: While overcoming recent heartbreak, you decide to join Tinder in search of a rebound. Your friends advise to just Swipe Right indiscriminately... What happens when 4 soldiers from the same squad match with you?

Chapter 1: Kyle

All of last night you and your friends spent time tinkering with your profile, putting up the sexiest pics of you that you had, some of them from Instagram, some from your camera roll, and filling in all the fields of info you could… 

And then you started checking out the profiles, definitely judging and roasting the men that popped on your screen (blame the alcohol), but always swiping right, regardless of what you (or them) thought of the most recent man on the screen.

But, once they left, you turned off the notifications and alerts from the app and went to sleep. You had acquiesced to downloading the app and making a profile, but the last thing you wanted was to be on that app constantly and get bombarded with DMs and Likes/Super-Likes…

The next day came and went and, as you sat in your kitchen after work, unboxing your take-out boxes of dinner, your group chat pinged with a text from Leah.

leah: How's Tinder going? 👀

You bit your lip and sighed as you typed out a response:

you: haven’t touched it all day bc i was at work. leah: Better touch it then!!

Rolling your eyes, you set the phone down on the table again, and locked the screen, as you began stirring the noodles you bought with your chopsticks.

Mia joined not long after with her own opinion. 

mia: ive got a good feeling about today! ur gonna find a hot bloke i know it 🫶 im sending good energyyyy!

“Yeah, right…” You grumbled. But, once again, you acquiesced and clicked on the little flame-shaped app icon.

The app lagged at first, for a good 5 seconds, and then a bunch of DMs and Like notifications pinged your phone.

You couldn’t help but chuckle to yourself… Oh, how predictable men are… They see a picture showing just a bit more skin and they try to chat the person up. But, at the same time, it made you feel quite good…

You skim through the DMs you’ve already gotten, over 99 of them… And none of them tickled your fancy. Plenty of them were variations of “Oi.”, “Hey.”, “Hi.”... Not to mention the ones that were just directly asking you to meet up right from the get-go.

Returning to the groupchat, you text your friends a screenshot of the 99+ counter on both the DMs and the Likes, which causes them to break into cheers at you.

leah: Look at you!!!! mia: i knew it. you: not into any of them tho. mia: then go back to swiping girl!

Biting back a little groan, you returned to Tinder and flicked onto the Swiping page.

Surprisingly, now that you were alone (and kind of doing it against your will), it was a lot easier for you to not get lost over-analyzing the profiles and simply… mindlessly moving your finger.

Right.

Right.

Right.

Right.

Ew, that’s a catfish of a famous male model, Report.

Right.

Right.

Right.

“Kyle.” You said softly as you read the name on your screen. He looked adorable, with a squinted ‘the-sun-is-in-my-eyes’ smile. “29… A soldier… a Brummie…” You mused as you slipped a Chinese roll past your lips and chewed.

You took a screenshot of his profile and sent it quickly to your friends’ groupchat before you returned to Tinder. As you clicked through his photo gallery, you saw the push notifications pinging at the top of the screen.

leah: HE’S STUNNING! 😫 mia: 👀👀👀👀👀 mia: smash.

Chuckling, you continue going through his pictures. “Holiday photo, holiday photo, I seriously hope those are his nephews or something, mandatory picture in uniform, and… JESUS CHRIST, a warning would’ve been NICE?!” You said to no one in particular as your jaw dropped open and you almost dropped your Chinese roll. 

“Bloody hell… Is that sweat or baby oil?” You asked yourself as you looked at his slick, bare chest in the mirror selfie he uploaded. “And is he cupping his-” You stopped that train of thought before it could go too far from the station.

Clicking the arrow in the corner you finally brought his profile into full-screen and proceeded to find yourself chuckling at his bio. 

His pictures were all wonderful, he looked like a guy who took care of himself, and he was funny which was the best part. 

Taking a deep breath, you press the Green heart at the bottom. A squeal escapes your mouth when the phone screen suddenly changes to the darker ‘It’s a Match!’ screen with Kyle.

Your eyes widen in surprise and, just as you press the DM button, intent on coming up with something to message him, you notice it.

Kyle: bought some shoes from a drug dealer this morning. don’t know what he laced them with but I’ve been tripping over myself all day and now think ive finally fallen for you 👀

The cheesy pick-up line has you closing your eyes and exhaling through your nose. It’s starting off terribly… But he’s the first bloke you felt inclined to text… That has to mean something, doesn’t it?

you: you fell out of a helicopter… i dont think its the shoes. i’m starting to think ur just clumsy. Kyle: holy shit you’re not a bot! let’s goooo you: a bot? you really thought that? Kyle: when someone has posted pics as cute as yours you cant help but have that worry in the back of your mind 😅 Kyle: or that ur a catfish 🤷‍♂️ you: i promise you im neither. you: and thank you. you’re cute too. Kyle: thats exactly what a bot/catfish would say 🙄 you: well how would a human talk then?? Kyle: cant tell you bc then ur gonna machine learn and start doing it you: well then how else am i supposed to prove im not either?? Kyle: let me take you out. let me get a proper good look at you. you: was that all a ploy to invite me out?? 🫠 Kyle: first time on tinder? you: that obvious huh? Kyle: a little. Kyle: so is that a yes? you: I’ll think about it. Kyle: i can work with that. 🥴 Kyle: hmu whenever youd like. no pressure. 

Maybe you would hit him up later… Once you gained enough courage to go through with the whole ‘rebound’ thing.

Biting your lip, you click off the DMs and return to the Swiping page…

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taglist: @daisychainsinknots , @bunnysdaydreams , @iite-cool , @lahniu , @pagesfalling , @tapioca-milktea1978 , @live-love-be-unique , @thelaisydazy , @littleghosthunter , @bossva , @emotion-no-hot-yes-hotel-trivago , @chamomiletealeaf , @ghosts-hoe

[alittlebitofsainz]

- sunshine -

prompt: “you give me hope when the dark clouds fill the sky, you always find a way through, my little ray of sunshine.”

pairing: lando norris x reader

summary: they say first is the worst, second is the best, but what about if you were so close to first place? 100% inspired by the events of this weekend lando stop being so mean to yourself pls and thank u xoxo

warnings: lando being a miserable little so and so. the usual swear words.

a/n: I’m BACK! I moved house and then just became very busy and also rather uninspired. not sure if I’m 100% happy with this but I just wanted to post something!! missed u all heaps and heaps, hope to keep writing more very soon xx lyrics from track #67 sunshine by the brummies. thought this band were from good ol’ birmingham west midlands but turns out they’re from birmingham alabama

masterlist | the spotify wrapped collection

it wasn’t uncommon for lando to be like this.

he’d gotten a lot better over recent years, but every so often the self-criticism would creep in again. you could anticipate it coming; it would start with little comments, a muttered “lando, you fucking idiot” to himself here and there, self deprecating jokes to interviewers about that final corner where he’d gone off and ruined his lap. it could go on like that for a while, until eventually something would set him off properly, like a ticking time bomb that had gradually been building pressure until it was ready to explode.

“fuck sake.”

you watched as lando trailed through the garage, a string of curses muttered through gritted teeth as he passed, seeking solace from the TV cameras. admittedly, you could understand his frustration; even you had thrown your hands up in the air as he’d been squeezed out of first place on the very first corner. it was unlucky, but it was also his own fault for making a mistake: lando knew it, you knew it, and you also knew that he was feeling it. you watched him go past and disappear off down the corridor, no doubt heading for the solace of his drivers room. you paused, weighing up your options for just a moment.

“Lan?”

the echo of your knock on his drivers room door reverberated down the corridor. the mclaren motorhome was a ghost town, reminding you of the fact that everyone else was out celebrating - everyone but lando, rather ironically.

a noise came from inside the room, no doubt lando grumbling something inaudible under his breath as he made his way across the room, before the door eventually opened. you couldn’t help the sigh that escaped you - it had been such a long while since you’d seen him this way. it was subtle; the average person may not have even picked up on it, but you could always tell. It was his eyes, they somehow lacked the hues of green and blue they usually possessed, instead reflecting back a washed out grey colour, like the light had gone out from behind them.

“you got p2, Lan.” you reminded him softly as he stepped away, a silent invitation for you to come in. you knew those words wouldn’t help.

“it should’ve been p1.” came the mumbled reply from where lando had sunk back down on the sofa. you kicked the door closed behind you and made your way over to sit down beside him, your shoulder pressed into his.

“but you were so close, lan, a few more laps and you would’ve got him, I know it.”

“I know I was close!” your response had touched upon something lando didn’t want to hear, a fact you were made very aware of from the bitterness in his tone as he snapped back at you, “but I wasn’t close enough. I fucked up on that first corner. the team deserved better.”

you leaned back on the sofa, bottom lip caught between your teeth as you mulled over your next words. you’d been here before, in this vicious cycle where the more you tried to remind lando how incredible he was, the more he’d refute it, the more frustrated and self critical he’d become. one of those times, he’d told you that you wouldn’t understand, and it had hurt. it had hurt because you knew it was true. you didn’t understand. you didn’t understand how lando could be such a great driver and still best himself up over the smallest of mistakes.

“‘m sorry. didn’t mean to shout at you.”

you glanced up from where your gaze had drifted down to your lap as you’d been considering your response, only to find your eyes locked with lando’s grey ones, full of something you quickly identified as remorse. he’d mistaken your silence, assumed that you’d been wounded by the sharpness in his tone, when in reality you had barely registered it - you knew his fleeting anger wasn’t directed at you. it was directed at himself.

“no, no, don’t worry ‘bout it. I was just thinking, that’s all.” you sat back up quickly, shaking your head as you forced your expression to soften, “I know there’s nothing I can say to make this better, to make you see how well you did today, but-“

“just you being here is enough.”

the reply with which he cut you off was so quiet that you had to tilt your head and give lando a questioning look, one that told him you weren’t quite sure you’d heard him right. he let out a soft sigh, eyes directed to the floor, the faintest hint of red colouring his cheeks as he cleared his throat.

“I said, you being here is enough. with me.” he clarified, voice just a little louder than before.

“Lan, there’s nowhere else I would be right now, you know that.” you dropped your voice, matching his soft tone. an instinctive hand came to rest upon his knee, giving it a gentle squeeze.

“I just mean-“ lando shifted slightly to face you, expression swimming with a quiet admiration, “I don’t always make it… easy.”

you let out a chuckle at that, despite the situation, and it earned you a raised eyebrow and the smallest hint of a smile from lando.

“what I’m trying to say is,” lando continued, “I really appreciate you sticking with me. not just now, but, like, through everything. even when I’m like this.” lando gestured vaguely around the room, but he didn’t even need to for you to know exactly what he meant.

“even when you’re grumpy.” you clarified helpfully. that one earned you a playful scowl.

“I wasn’t gonna put it like that.” he complained, but his tone was lighter than before. “and anyway, I was trying to be serious, don’t ruin it.”

you held your hands up in mock surrender and stifled another laugh, before letting out a soft sigh, observing lando quietly for a moment.

“I’m always on your side, Lan, even if you’re not.” the sincerity in your tone was reflected in your expression as you held his gaze for a moment more, before dropping your head onto his shoulder, his hand finding your own as your fingers intertwined.

it was perfect and peaceful, until it wasn’t. until a knock at the door and the voice of lando’s pr manager brought you both back down to earth, reminding lando that it was time to go out and deal with the interviews. he let out a sigh, reverting back to the solemn state you’d found him in, and you wished you could make it all go away, to tell all the reporters to fuck off. but as you flicked your gaze back to lando, catching his eye as he stood up and smoothed the base of his fireproofs, you realised that he was going to be fine: he flashed you a lopsided smile, and for a moment the afternoon sunlight caught his eyes, the flecks of blue and green dancing across them once again. yeah, you were both going to be fine.

you flashed him a final smile as he slipped out of the drivers room, leaving you alone in there with your thoughts until he returned.

a/n: as always, I might add more to this if I feel so inclined! let me know if you want to be tagged xo

[stuniolvs]

OF COURSE, JOBE BELLINGHAM

you were a new journalist who often worked in sports interviewing players. today you were at a game of one of your favorite teams to interview, sunderland. as you waited for the game to come to an end you prepared your questions. as the 90th minute approached you watched the game closely as a player scored. you smiled as you realized it was your favorite player to interview, jobe bellingham. you knew you needed to interview him again after this goal, it was just a new excuse to talk to the cute player.

you walk down the steps of the stadium carefully, making sure not to fall wearing the tall heels you wore almost everyday. you were pretty short and working with taller athletes you often needed to appear taller to not seem so awkward. your normal height was raised about 5 inches. you reach the field, smiling at the happiness that radiates off the winning team. you walk over to jobe and smile at him, noticing how tall he was, “nice to see you again y/n” he smiles you take notice of how he remembered your name. “you as well jobe, do you mind if we interview you?” you ask, “not at all” he agrees.

after the interview your camera man walks away leaving you and jobe. “nice goal out there,” you compliment “thank you” he replies he stares at you for a second before his eyes flicker to your lips and back up to your eyes never breaking the eye contact. “you’re really pretty” he blurts out immediately covering his mouth “i’m so sor-“ you cut him off, “thank you, you’re pretty handsome too.” you reply as jobe looks around noticing that the stadium had pretty much cleared out he leans down and kisses you. when your lips lock you’re a little surprised but you kiss back. you feel jobes arms slip around your waist as you cup his cheek. he pulls away smiling “let’s get out of here,” he pulls you over to the tunnel to walk towards the locker room. “i need to go grab my stuff will you wait here really quick” he asks “mhm”

as jobe comes rushing out looking rather sweaty he’s now in slides but the same outfit as before. “what do you wanna do?” you ask him “wanna walk around?” he asks. “sure,”

it’s around 30 minutes later and you guys have just been asking eachother random questions, “hmm,” you ponder for a moment before thinking of a new question “if you could only drink one drink for the rest of your life what would it be?” you ask him “i’ve gotta survive so i’d probably say water,” he starts “but if it’s like your favorite drink- but you’re not gonna survive without water” he continues “no jobe, like your favorite drink-“ he cuts you off “so what you gonna do you gonna die then?” he replies his brummie accent thick. “jobe,” you laugh “if it’s just like off of taste, i mean i like pineapple juice” he says sassily. you giggle.

“how tall are you?” you ask your feet beginning to hurt. “like 6’3” he replies. “i have to show you something” you inform him “okay,” he hesitantly replies. you reach down to your heels and pull one off. stepping down to the ground, before pulling off the other. “holy shit!” he exclaims. you look up at him, he’s now much taller compared to you. “how am i meant to kiss you now?” he asks “i guess you’ll just have to deal with neck pain” you smile. he hums “that’s a pain i’m willing to have if it means i get to keep kissing you.” he whispers softly leaning down to your lips before he connects them. you hum into the kiss before he slides his hands under your thighs, “jump.” he whispers against your lips. you jump and he picks you up, your legs wrapping around his waist as you continue to kiss. you pull back “jobe,” you say softly caressing his cheek “we’re making out in the middle of the sidewalk.” you remind him. “do you wanna come back to mine?” he asks “of course.” you reply “can you carry me back?” you ask “my feet hurt.” you complain “of course.” he kisses your nose.

i love you all!! please leave requests!! have a great day or night!

[jobesbabe]

brummie boy / Jobe Bellingham

summary- you doing your makeup while singing a certain taylor swift song that jobe doesn’t exactly like the lyrics to.

warnings- none just fluff!

You were fixing your makeup before going out with Jobe, in the master bathroom the pair of you shared. Your hands were busy blending in some blush and putting away your concealer.

Your phone was blasting the weeknd’s Die For You and your boyfriend joined you in the bathroom as you hummed along. He tilted his head, being quite a bit taller than you and kissed your lips quickly.

As the song changed, you let out an excited gasp, turning to look at Jobe while hearing Idris Elba’s iconic starting line to London Boy.

“This is my song!” You exclaimed over your phone.

The lyrics rang out as Jobe took a step back and watched you use one of your makeup brushes as a microphone.

“You know I love a London Boy, I enjoy nights in Brixton, Shoreditch in the afternoon,” You sang along with the audio.

Jobe had a pensive look on his faced, mixed with a smile before twisting his face to bite his cheek.

You giggled at him, and then asked, “Why the long face baby?”

His face gave a guilty smile as if you had caught him in the act of doing something wrong.

“I’m from Birmingham though. You love a Birmingham boy,” He said grabbing your waist from behind and resting his head on your shoulder.

“Hm, you’re right.” You told him smirking. Your face lit up with an idea.

The rest of the song, every time it said ‘London Boy,’ You replaced it with, “Brummie Boy.”

His face was in a bashful smile and he couldn’t bring himself to meet your eyes without smiling uncontrollably.

You grabbed his chin and made him look you in the eyes as you said “But God I love the English,”

As you finished the song, You peppered his face and neck with kisses that made him laugh until you met his lips for a long, passionate kiss.

“Can we listen to that song later?” He asked you.

You nodded and chuckled.

“Sure my Brummie Boy,”

a/n- thank you so much for reading! I hope this was okay! Feedback is greatly appreciated! Reblogs, likes & comments are so helpful!!

[maikissed]

the day I saw your eyes, I stayed

jude bellingham x reader

warnings: none, just a tad of sexual tension, yeah

note: there is going to be part 2! I planned to write the whole story in one shot but I gotta go to sleep now and was too excited about this rubbish (jk, I love it tbh). And he scored today, whoop sorry for any mistakes!!!!

Rose got herself a new boyfriend. The name brought up in presence of your girlfriends caused much of a fuss. It was a grand revelation and as much as it surprised you as well, you did not share the enthusiasm as every other girl in the room. Not because you felt envious, jealousy was never your thing, you rather grew worrisome. The excitation over the fact that Rose secured herself a football player of such range – famous, a hot topic, high quality player, one of the most valuable characters in the England national team, highly payed, and to add to that: uncommonly gorgeous - absolutely knocked your friends of their feet, but to you… To you it was a sign of massive trouble. People like him belonged to a world where individuals had their impeccable ways to draw from their fame, money and phenomenon as much as they could, despite the morality or ethics. Rose always mingled among various groups of people, there were musicians, actors, even politicians. She was a lovely girl, very pretty, her modelling career developed quickly, spectacularly. But she still haven’t made her name the way she aimed to. You suspected the boys she chose were always an occasion, a special addition to make her reach for more, to be seen, to feel special and unique. She was determined, regardless of the consequences, regardless of the fact how many times she has suffered and burned herself even almost to the point of absolute destruction. It felt awful to even reminisce it. But that’s how it’s been so far, it was the path she has chosen. Although this time this whole situation felt much different, there was a spark in her eyes that could tell you many things. But you would define it this way: she intended to hold onto him, she wanted to keep him. He seemed like the greatest prize. But who would have thought that the massive trouble you feared from the very start would be your burden to deal with?

Jude Bellingham.

Girls were over the moon when the time has come and Rose invited you all to join them in a private lounge in one of the most exclusive clubs in London. You scoffed when you heard the name of the place, you remembered the time when you and Lucia tried to sneak in there, but the bodyguard was too smart to fall for your theatrics. Only precisely selected people could party there. It was one of those grand and fancy places. So you found yourself invited, at last. Yet you weren’t very thrilled about the way you were about to spend your Saturday night. It turned out you would be the only single person there.

And him? The man, the hot topic himself? He was taller than you envisioned, maybe the hair added to that? His smile truly was bright, he was well built, broad shoulders, but not too muscular, well, he was an athlete. The Brummie dialect annoyed you at the start, but the itch seemed to cease as you payed attention to the tone of his voice, there was nothing particular about it, it was just right, good, not screechy, not too deep just… pleasant. He was an amiable guy, you thought to yourself, polite and friendly at the first contact. You realised you were a careful observer until he turned to you to greet. Now you were very much noticed, now you had to act as a part of the events, not a shadow and analyser. And situation very much changed. Time seemed to slow down so suddenly, you found yourself in the strangest state of unconsciousness, like a scene in a movie where the background blurs and any noise is muted, when the spectator is deprived of any other senses despite the sight to notice those specific details that are supposed to made him feel the sublimity of a given moment. And the source of it was in his eyes, you realised, and the way he smiled softly as he extended his hand to you. It was strange and disturbing, his eyes seemed to be the darkest ones you’ve ever seen, but you most definitely had seen eyes like his before, no doubt about it. You took a breath, blinked, fought to not fall into this depth that almost sucked you in. He was smiling, now something slightly impudent about it, and you realised he truly was stunningly gorgeous. Strangely, insanely attractive. Just a simple look into his eyes made you stumble into a realisation that there was something different about this man. And it frightened you.

You did say your name back, did you?

As the night went by you decided to stay in your attentive observer state. You felt safer there, although decency inquired you to engage in few conversations with your friends. Tonight you felt tense, carefully sipping the wine, you tried with all your might to relax and stop examining so intensely the boy seated opposite you. Few new conclusions you came into in the last hour was the fact that he was a great interlocutor, he listened as well, and his smile was one of the most pleasurable things you’ve experienced in your lifetime. You just couldn’t take your eyes off. And another conclusion was that him and Rose was nothing of exclusive. No lingering stares, no secret touches. After all, they met quite recently. She wondered if she bagged him already. And if so, would they all be there if she did? He did not seem like the kind to make such effort to get himself a girl he was not seriously interested in. Rose was not the type to act restrained and unavailable. She crawled into many beds the first night she met someone. You kept yourself far from casual hook-ups and one night stands, just a simple thought of it made you uncomfortable. But for her it was a common thing, if you could use such words. So, was he really interested?

After a while all of your friends decided to use the night to the fullest as the alcohol finally kicked in, rushing to the dancefloor and you truly couldn’t find the spur to join them. You were seriously thinking about taking a French leave. And you almost succeeded.

“You’re not enjoying yourself much, are you?” a well known voice reached you from behind and you turned your head in its direction.

Something in your gut jumped as you spotted Jude. He took a seat beside you. You smiled as his scent reached you, fresh, citrus with addition of something stronger and… alluring.

“I’ve had a long day. Tired, I guess” a safe and simple answer.

His full attention was on you, no one here to accompany you. It begun to feel overwhelming because you did not expected his gaze to be so intense.

“I know the feeling. Find myself in a constant state of weariness lately, cannot get rid of it” he played with his glass, the liquid looked like orange juice.

“Well, you live quite the fast and exciting life” you noted, observing as the corner of his mouth rose a little at your comment.

“Where are you from?” he asked, not continuing the subject you just raised.

“Here, London, born and raised” you smiled again before lowering your gaze, finding the glass of wine interesting “Became as gloomy and morose as this city”

“I wouldn’t describe you with such words” his voice was soft when he said it, something itched in you to ask what words would he use to describe you, but raising the glass of wine up to your lips saved you from that. You hoped you didn’t blush.

“My grandmother always says that I’m an old soul. Emphasizes it like it’s a virtue” you continued.

“That’s a very interesting thing to say about someone. Mine says that I’m a lovely companion although I use way too foul language and it’s scandalous” he frowned funnily and you laughed at the information, he quickly accompanied you.

“Well, I haven’t yet got the occasion to hear some of that tonight”

“I’m trying to be a gentleman” he murmured “It would be improper to throw fucks around in presence of a pretty girl” a lively glint in his eyes as he looked at you.

Now you definitely blushed.

The conversation flowed from there, and you realised you grew more comfortable with each passing minute. He truly was a great listener, and a good companion. He made you laugh many times and suddenly you stopped regretting leaving your apartment for this night out. He was not daft or arrogant as you might have presumed before you met him, being smothered by all this money he had and a name he’s gotten himself at such young age. The complexity of his persona could be spotted in his eyes as you payed closer attention, but it was his words and the way he picked on any subject you brought, that expressed his maturity and wide perception. You haven’t met a guy like him in a long time.

“What are you guys doing here? Come on down, join us!” it was Charlotte’s comment as she came to the longue after a while.

You haven’t even realised how much time has passed and how much alcohol you have already poured into yourself. You only picked on that as you stood up, dizziness hit you like lighting but you composed yourself, agreeing on Charlotte’s and then Jude’s proposition. As soon as you joined the dancefloor, Rose spotted you both, throwing her hands around Jude, guiding him deeper, keeping him closer. He kept his eyes on you as she did it and a strange feeling stroked you as you kept his gaze. Charlotte grabbed you by your hands, singing the words out loud, the song was energetic and lively, you laughed at your friend. Others from your pack nowhere to be seen. So you loosened up and tried to keep up with your drunk companion. The dancefloor became quite chaotic, people jumping around, your eyes landing on Jude from time to time and to your surprise he was looking your way as well. There was a lean and tall guy that jumped in front of Jude, almost stumbling over him and you laugh at that, seeing that Jude laughed as well, his attention still on you. You wanted to share this fun with him directly, but it was forbidden since the realest fact of this night was that he was not yours to have.

“I need to pee!” Rose shouted near you and you turned, watching as she grabbed Charlotte with her, leaving the dancefloor.

You stopped and decided to follow your friends but felt someone’s presence behind your back before you made any move.

“Now I can tell you’re enjoying your night!” Jude called next to your ear, this way you could hear him well despite the thumping music.

When you turned around you noticed how close he stood, you had to raise your head to look at his face, his big and dark eyes gazing down at you, full lips twisted into an amused smile. You returned the smile.

“You are a terrible dancer” you shouted back to him, your voice filled with laughter.

“That’s a fact” he nodded “But you’re quite good, show me more” he reached for your hips to draw you deeper into the dancefloor and you laughed out, throwing your head back as he lead you with him.

You have not payed much attention to the closeness of your bodies as long as the songs were quick and your movements kept rapidly changing with the rhythm. Still, you haven’t realised the sound slowing, a more sensuous song sounded from the loudspeaker, you knew this one. If the reason could break through the basses that reached your ears, you would finish your dance right this moment. But the fact was that it did not. So you continued, with your hands placed at his shoulders you begun to move your hips. Your eyes closed as you turned around, your back to him, he was not touching you, not directly. He took your hands in his and you started to raise it up in the air, you smiled when you felt his breath on your ear. Your joined hands stayed up longer, his on the other hand slowly trailed lower and lower, down your forearms, then your shoulders, then down your body. His touch sure yet lenient and soft at the same time electrified you. Carefully and attentively, making sure to not touch your breasts on the way, he rested them on your hips, feeling the rhythm you kept on. You were not sure if it was him that pressed on you or was it purely your movement, but your back met with his front fully, and a sharp intake of breath stuck in  your throat at the realisation. His hands still rested on your hips, making your body move with no pause. You were close, too close, you could already feel too much. But you found it difficult to part with him, to stop it and call it improper. Your eyes wide open but blind. You only focused on the sense of touch, feeling him moving with you. Your hands fell down to reach his head and then levelled on his nape and you kept them there. Feeling something growing inside of you, along with a rough shot of adrenaline that made your heart beat strongly against ribs. Once more his breath landed on your ear, close, closer. A strange sensation squeezed your throat and you realised you swallowed back a moan. It was like a rough strike, you turned around to face him, with intention to take a step back, but he held you closer, pressing his palm against your back. You sighed and met his eyes. Dark, darker. You wanted to run.

“Thank you for the dance” you said innocently and he watched the movement of your lips as you spoke.

A daring smirk appeared on his mouth and you shuddered. Were you trapped now?

You had to run. So you did.

[emjayewrites]

fouled by fate • aurelien tchouameni (1/10)

SYNOPSIS: Aurélien Tchouaméni, one of football’s rising stars, is used to navigating the pressures of the pitch—but nothing could prepare him for an arranged marriage. With his family’s legacy and cultural traditions at stake, Aurélien reluctantly agrees to marry a woman he barely knows. But as they’re thrust into the public eye, sparks fly in unexpected ways. The two must navigate the complexities of love, duty, and fame, all while figuring out if they’re playing on the same team—or if their hearts are destined for different paths.

PAIRINGS: Aurélien Tchouaméni x Zuri Awanto Nchang (faceclaim Samira Ahmed @/iamsamiira)

WARNINGS: cursing, football b.s., dry humor/wit, slight arguing, friends to lovers, instant attraction, eventual smut (18+/minors dni)

TAGLIST: @trenterprise @f1-football-fiend @lettersofgold @hopefulromantic1 @deonn-jaelle @vile-harlot @perfecttrashface @queenshikongo3 @2serenity0 @essaysbyciara @saturnville @trentswrld @planetmimi @muglermami @shepgurl @sucredreamer @julescpu

A/N: Please let me know if you like to be removed/added to the taglist. Also, a surprise mention in this chapter that links to another story!

The Madrid sun blazed relentlessly as Aurélien jogged across the training pitch, his head pounding with each step. The air hummed with the rhythmic thud of cleats striking balls and the sharp whistles of Coach Ancelotti directing drills. Aurélien grimaced. Last night's tequila shots at Goya Social Club were exacting their revenge.

Whoever invented tequila deserved a special place in hell.

"Bloody hell, he's trying to kill us," Jude Bellingham panted, falling into step beside Aurélien. "You holdin' up alright, mate? You look proper rough."

Aurélien grinned weakly at his teammate's distinctive Brummie accent. "I'm starting to think I should've stayed my ass in bed."

Eduardo Camavinga joined them, looking annoyingly fresh-faced. "What's this? The great Tchouaméni can't handle a little heat and a few drinks?"

"A few?" Aurélien scoffed. "I'm pretty sure I drank half of Mexico last night. Unlike some lightweights who bailed early," he added, eyeing Camavinga pointedly.

They paused near the sidelines, grabbing water bottles from the cooler. Jude took a long swig before turning to Aurélien, his expression softening.

"How're you really doing, though? With everything coming up next month?"

Aurélien's smile faltered slightly. "It’s… whatever. Not trying to dwell on it."

Camavinga clapped a supportive hand on his shoulder. "The arranged marriage, right? Your old man still pushing ahead?"

"Yeah," Aurélien sighed, his casual facade slipping a bit. "It’s a done deal. My fiancée and her family are arriving next month."

Jude shook his head, whistling low. "That’s a lot, mate. And you don’t even know her?"

"Not a clue," Aurélien confirmed. "Dad’s got it all arranged with her family. They even got the blessing from the elders back in Cameroon, but it's mainly my dad driving this whole thing."

"No wonder you've been living it up lately," Camavinga said, his tone sympathetic. "Fuck, I'd be drowning in women too if I knew I was being forced into a random marriage."

"You would've been if you hadn't ghosted us like that," Aurélien retorted. "I'm tired of planning stuff and you back out last minute, bro."

Jude nodded, his face brightening. "Speaking of hanging out, Lila's planning to visit soon. She's keen to catch up with everyone."

Aurélien managed a genuine smile at that. "That's great; it'll be good to see her again." He shook his head in disbelief, still amazed at how Jude had managed to snag Lewis Hamilton's little sister. The young Englishman's charm seemed to know no bounds. "How'd you swing that again?" he teased. "I still can't believe you're dating her. Talk about punching above your weight."

Jude grinned, a hint of pride in his eyes. "What can I say? The Bellingham charm is irresistible."

Camavinga snorted, nudging Jude's shoulder. "Yeah, right. And I'm the King of France."

As they bantered, Aurélien's mind wandered. He thought about the countless nights he'd spent clubbing, the endless amount of pussy, and the carefree laughter shared with teammates. All soon to be replaced by... what? Family dinners and couple's game nights? Sure he loved his family, especially his young siblings, Anne-Maïsha and Yannis, but settling down at twenty-four years of age seems blasphemous. The thought of being married was almost as nauseating as his hangover.

His phone buzzed in his bag - probably another message from his father, Fernand. The reality of his situation was closing in, and Aurélien couldn't help but feel a mix of resignation and resentment. He'd always known this day might come, but the speed at which it was approaching left him reeling.

They continued their training, and Aurélien tried to focus on the present. The feel of the grass beneath his feet, the burn in his muscles as he stretched, the familiar banter with his teammates. But his thoughts kept drifting to his unknown fiancée. Would she laugh at his jokes? Would she understand the offsides rule? Would she realize she was marrying a man whose idea of cooking was not burning toast? Would they even like each other?

An hour or so later, training was over for the day, and he hit the showers. By the time he stepped out onto the parking lot, he was back in his zone. The sun was still blazing as evening slowly drifted on, but he didn't mind. Sliding into his ride—a sleek, black Porsche 911 Turbo S—he let out a long breath. The leather seats felt cool against his skin as he sank into them, and the engine roared to life with a low, satisfying growl.

Aurélien pulled out his phone, noticing the missed calls from his father. He hesitated, then tapped the number and brought the phone to his ear. The call connected almost immediately.

"Ouais, Papa? (Yeah, Dad?)"

"Aurélien, enfin! Où es-tu? (Aurélien, finally! Where are you?)"

Aurélien sucked his teeth, glancing out at the sun-soaked training grounds. "Je viens de finir l'entraînement. Qu'est-ce qu'il y a? (I just finished training. What's up?)"

His father's voice took on a more urgent tone. "Va à l'aéroport. Ta femme arrive aujourd'hui. (Go to the airport. Your wife is arriving today.)"

Aurélien's grip on the steering wheel tightened as he frowned in disbelief. "Aujourd'hui? Mais pourquoi si tôt? (Today? But why so soon?)"

There was a brief pause before his father answered. "Elle a terminé ses études plus tôt que prévu, et elle commence à décrocher des contrats… tu sais, avec son Instagram. (She graduated early and she's starting to land some contracts… you know, with her Instagram.)"

Instagram? Aurélien blinked, trying to process what he'd just heard. The sarcasm practically dripped from his mind. Great. I'm marrying an IG hoe.

He sighed, running a hand over his face. "D'accord, j'y vais. (Alright, I'm on my way.)"

"Merci, fils. Sois gentil avec elle. (Thank you, son. Be nice to her.)"

Aurélien let out a dry chuckle as he hung up, shaking his head. Be nice? He didn't even know this girl, let alone how to be nice to her. As he shifted the Porsche into gear and pulled out of the lot, his thoughts drifted back to his unknown fiancée. Would she be another high-maintenance Instagram model obsessed with followers and brand deals? He smirked to himself. He'd seen enough of those in his life already.

But there was nothing to do now but go pick her up and see for himself. Maybe she'd take one look at him and decide she could do better after all. A man could dream, right?

Zuri fidgeted nervously, her eyes darting around the crowded airport pick-up station. She had no idea who she was looking for, which only added to the anxiety bubbling in her chest. Her father had given her little to go on, vague descriptions and the promise that she would "know him when she saw him." But how was she supposed to recognize a man she’d never met?

Then, out of the sea of people, she spotted him. A tall, broad-shouldered man with an air of effortless confidence, moving through the crowd as if he owned the place. His smooth, dark brown skin and muscled frame hugged his designer tracksuit perfectly, and his piercing eyes seemed to notice everything around him. Zuri's breath caught in her throat as he approached.

His gaze settled on her with a mix of curiosity and certainty. He stopped just in front of her, towering over her, and offered a polite nod.

"You wouldn’t happen to be the daughter of Ernest Awanto Nchang, would you?" he asked, his voice rich and smooth, though there was a hint of dryness in his tone.

Zuri blinked, momentarily taken aback by his handsomeness and the way his curly taper fade complemented his angular facial features. "Yes, I am," she replied cautiously. He then began to ramble off in rapid French, and Zuri failed miserably at trying to catch up. "Um, I'm sorry, I don't speak French that well."

His eyebrows rose slightly. "Ah, my bad. I'm Aurélien."

She nodded, offering a small smile. "Zuri. Nice to meet you."

As they collected her luggage - all five suitcases of it - Aurélien couldn't help but suck his teeth. "Damn, girl, did you pack your entire house?" he muttered.

"I didn't know how long I'd be staying," Zuri bristled as she followed Aurélien to the parking lot, her eyes widening slightly when she saw the sleek, black car parked in front of them.

A Porsche? Nice.

The car was immaculate, with gleaming chrome accents and tinted windows that added an extra layer of mystery. When Aurélien unlocked it with a casual click of his key fob, she couldn’t help but admire the luxury of it all. She slid into the passenger seat, and her fingers brushed against the soft, peanut butter leather that lined the interior. The seats were plush and cool against her skin, a stark contrast to the tension radiating off Aurélien as he settled in behind the wheel after packing her luggage in the trunk. The scent of expensive cologne and leather filled the air, making the space feel even more intimate and imposing.

The drive began in uncomfortable silence, the only sound coming from the hum of the engine and the occasional click of the turn signal. After a few minutes, Aurélien finally broke the silence, his voice laced with dry humor. "You know, you weren’t supposed to arrive until next month."

Zuri didn’t miss the underlying irritation in his tone. She glanced over at him, her defenses kicking in immediately. "I’m sorry for ruining your plans," she shot back, her words dripping with sarcasm.

Aurélien’s lips twitched slightly, the hint of a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth, surprised by her sass. "Why the sudden change?"

Zuri sighed. "I graduated early from university. My father and I weren't seeing eye to eye about my career plans. He wants me to get a 'real job'," she air-quoted, "instead of pursuing my influencer work. So he decided to ship me off to Madrid, figuring my 'husband'," another air quote, "would straighten me out."

Aurélien couldn't help but laugh. "Gotta love African parents, huh?"

"Yeah," Zuri snorted. "By the way, how do you pronounce your name again? Or-ree-lee-en?"

"Aw-reh-lee-an," he corrected. "And yours is Zoo-ree, right?"

"Close. It's more like Zu-ree. Short 'u' sound."

They pulled up to a modern, spacious house with large windows and a manicured lawn. As they entered, they were greeted by an energetic German Shepherd puppy.

"Zeus, down boy," Aurélien commanded, but the dog was too excited by the new arrival.

Zuri shrieked and jumped back as Zeus bounded towards her.

Aurélien's lips contorted into a teasing grin. "Don't tell me you're scared of a little puppy?"

"He's not little!" Zuri protested, eyeing the dog warily.

"He's only a year old," Aurélien chuckled, picking up Zeus easily, as if the dog barely weighed anything at all. "See? Harmless."

Zuri didn't look convinced, but she tentatively reached out to pet Zeus's head. The dog immediately licked her hand, causing her to giggle despite herself.

Aurélien watched the exchange, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "Looks like Zeus likes you already," he remarked, setting the dog back down on the floor. Zeus trotted off, seemingly satisfied with the introduction.

"Come on," Aurélien said, gesturing for her to follow him. "I’ll show you around."

The house was as impressive on the inside as it was on the outside. Modern and spacious, with clean lines and tasteful décor that spoke of understated luxury. Aurélien led her through the open-plan living area, pointing out the key features as they went.

"This is the living room," he said, nodding toward the large sectional sofa and the wall-mounted TV that dominated one side of the space. "The kitchen’s over there, fully stocked. Dining area’s next to it if you’re into that."

Zuri trailed behind him, taking in the high ceilings and the large windows that bathed the room in natural light. Everything looked like it had been carefully curated, from the abstract art on the walls to the sleek, polished surfaces that gleamed under the light.

He led her down a hallway, past a few closed doors, and stopped in front of one. "Here’s your room," he said, pushing the door open to reveal a well-appointed guest room. It was cozy, with a queen-sized bed covered in crisp white sheets, a matching dresser, and a small seating area by the window.

"The bed’s already made up, but if you need extra sheets or towels, they’re in the closet here," Aurélien added, opening a nearby door to show her where everything was neatly stored.

Zuri nodded, still a little overwhelmed by the situation. "It’s really nice, thank you."

Aurélien shrugged as if it was no big deal. "My chef usually comes in every other day around two to fill up the fridge, so if you’re hungry, just look there."

Zuri raised an eyebrow, curious. "Do you ever cook for yourself?"

Aurélien let out a short laugh. "Nah," he replied, shaking his head. "Not really my thing. Oh, yeah, I’m usually out early and back late, so don’t wait up for me. It’s cool to eat without me."

Zuri wasn’t sure how to respond to that, so she just nodded.

"Well, I’ll let you settle in," Aurélien said, giving Zeus a quick pat before heading toward the door. "Zeus and I are gonna give you some space. If you need anything, just let me know."

With that, he left her alone in the guest room, the door clicking shut behind him. Zuri stood there for a moment, taking it all in. The reality of her situation was slowly sinking in—she was in a foreign country, in a stranger’s house, with a man she barely knew, and would soon be in a marriage she hadn’t chosen.

She tried to keep a straight face, to be strong like she always was, but the fear and uncertainty were overwhelming. Her hands trembled slightly as she sat down on the edge of the bed, the softness of the sheets offering little comfort. She took a deep breath, forcing herself to stay composed, but the tears came anyway, slipping down her cheeks before she could stop them.

Zuri quickly wiped them away, frustrated with herself for breaking down so easily. She’d worked so hard to build her life, her career, her brand as an influencer. She was known for her confidence, her style, her ability to navigate the fast-paced world of social media with ease. But now, all of that seemed so far away. Her home was in New York, where she knew the streets, the people, the culture. And now, here she was, starting over in Spain—a place she’d only ever visited on a few short trips to Europe.

How was she supposed to navigate this? She could barely understand her parents’ home language of French, and now she was expected to learn Spanish too? The thought was daunting, and for a moment, she felt utterly lost.

Aurélien paused outside the guest room door, his hand hovering over the handle. He could hear Zuri's muffled sobs from the other side, and a twinge of guilt twisted in his stomach. He'd never been good with crying women - it always made him feel awkward and out of his depth. His ex-girlfriends had often complained about his tendency to shut down or retreat when emotions ran high.

He sighed, running a hand over his face. Part of him wanted to go in there, to try and comfort her somehow. But what would he even say? 'Sorry your dad shipped you off to marry a stranger'? Yeah, that would go over well.

Despite his discomfort, Aurélien couldn't help but think about how beautiful Zuri was. Her umber skin was flawless, smooth, and rich like polished mahogany. Her full lips, high cheekbones, and almond-shaped eyes gave her an almost regal appearance. And her hair - a mass of springy curls that framed her face perfectly. She was stunning, no doubt about it.

His phone buzzed, snapping him out of his thoughts. It was a text from Jules Koundé:

"Hey man, just landed in Madrid. Still good for me to crash at your place?"

Aurélien winced. Fuck. With Zuri's unexpected arrival, he'd completely forgotten about Jules' visit. He quickly typed out a reply:

"Slight change of plans. The fiancée arrived early. Mind staying at a hotel instead?"

Jules' response came moments later:

"No worries, bro. Hotel might be better anyway - more privacy for bringing back some señoritas, if you know what I mean 😉"

Aurélien chuckled, but then paused. Could he still do that? Bring back hookups? Technically, Zuri was his fiancée now, but it's not like they were going to have a loving marriage. Maybe they could come to some sort of agreement - you have your side pieces, I have mine, just keep it out of the media?

He shook his head. That sounded grim, even to him. But wasn't that the reality of their situation?

Thirty minutes later, Aurélien met up with Jules at a trendy bar in downtown Madrid. The two friends dapped each other, slipping easily into rapid French.

"Mon frère, ça fait trop longtemps! (My brother, it's been too long!)" Jules grinned.

"Je sais, je sais," (I know, I know,) Aurélien replied, signaling the bartender for two beers. "Mec, tu ne croiras jamais ce qui s'est passé aujourd'hui. (Dude, you won't believe what happened today.)"

As they settled into a corner booth, Aurélien recounted the day's events - Zuri's unexpected arrival, the awkward drive home, her fear of Zeus.

"Elle est comment? (What's she like?): Jules asked, leaning in with interest.

Aurélien took a long swig of his beer before answering. "Belle. Vraiment belle. Mais aussi... je ne sais pas. Perdue? Effrayée? Je l'ai entendue pleurer dans sa chambre. (Beautiful. Really beautiful. But also... I don't know. Lost? Scared? I heard her crying in her room.)"

Jules whistled low. "Merde, c'est dur. Qu'est-ce que tu vas faire? (Shit, that's rough. What are you going to do?)"

Aurélien shrugged, feeling helpless. "Je ne sais pas, mec. Je ne sais vraiment pas. (I don't know, man. I really don't know.)"

Aurélien and Jules continued their night, moving from the bar to a pulsing nightclub. The bass throbbed through the air as they made their way to the VIP section, immediately drawing attention from the other patrons.

Two women approached them, exuding confidence with every step. The taller one, with sleek box braids cascading down her back, sidled up to Jules, while her friend, with her hair styled in loose waves and curves that her dress hugged perfectly, set her sights on Aurélien.

"You look like you could use some company," the woman with the braids said in accented English, her dark eyes locked on Jules. "You want to dance?"

Jules smiled coolly, already angling towards the dance floor with his companion. "Sounds good to me. Aurélien?"

Aurélien watched his friend smoothly lead his dance partner away before turning his attention back to the woman before him. She was stunning, her skin a rich, deep brown that seemed to glow under the club lights.

"I'm Lia," she said, leaning in close to be heard over the music. "And you are…?"

"Aurélien," he replied, his eyes appreciatively taking in her features. He knew exactly where this was heading, and a part of him hesitated. The image of Zuri, alone and crying in his guest room, flashed through his mind.

But then Lia's hand was on his arm, her touch warm and inviting, and he found himself leaning into it. Didn't he deserve one last night of freedom before diving into this arranged marriage mess?

"So, Aurélien," Lia's voice pulled him back to the present. "What brings you out tonight? Celebrating something?"

Aurélien chuckled, a hint of irony lacing his words. "You could say that. Let's just say I'm trying to… clear my head."

Lia tilted her head, her curiosity piqued. "Oh? And how's that working out for you?"

Aurélien’s gaze lingered on her, sliding from her eyes to her full lips, then lower, drinking in every curve with deliberate intent. "I think it's starting to help," he murmured, his voice low and thick with suggestion.

Lia’s lips curled into a knowing smile, her eyes glinting with intrigue. She stepped closer, closing the distance between them until their bodies were nearly touching. "Is that so?" she teased, her tone laced with challenge.

Aurélien leaned in, his breath hot against her ear. "Why don't we find somewhere more private?" His hand brushed her waist, fingers skimming the fabric of her dress.

Lia didn’t hesitate. She got up from her seat, leading him out of the VIP section through a dimly lit hallway and into a nearby storage room. It was cramped and cluttered, but it provided the seclusion they needed.

Once inside, Aurélien wasted no time. He pressed Lia against the wall, his hands gripping her hips as he pulled her close. Their lips met in a heated kiss, all hunger and need, as their bodies moved together in a feverish rhythm. His hands roamed over her curves, exploring every inch as she eagerly responded, her fingers threading through his hair.

The kiss broke, and Lia dropped to her knees, her eyes locking with his as she unbuttoned his pants. Aurélien's breath caught as she freed him, her hand wrapping around his thick length. His cock was long and veined, the skin taut and smooth, with a slight curve that Lia seemed to appreciate. She took him into her mouth, her lips stretching around him as she began to work him over with slow, deliberate strokes of her tongue.

Aurélien groaned, one hand resting on the back of her head as she took him deeper, her tongue swirling around the head of his cock before sliding down his shaft. Lia knew exactly what she was doing, her movements expertly designed to drive him wild. Her slurping sounds filled the small room, a wet, rhythmic symphony that matched the pulse of his desire.

He hated that he was here, in some grimy storage room at a club, getting his dick sucked like this. It felt beneath him, almost disrespectful to himself, but he couldn’t deny how badly he needed this distraction. The tension, the frustration, all of it melted away with each skilled flick of Lia’s tongue, each tight, wet pull of her mouth.

But even as his body responded, his mind wandered. Thoughts of Zuri crept in, uninvited, disrupting his focus. He imagined her face, the way she looked at him earlier with a mix of uncertainty and defiance. He could almost hear her voice, questioning what the hell he was doing. The thought made him grit his teeth, annoyed at himself for letting her into his head at a moment like this.

Lia's pace quickened, her mouth moving faster, more desperate to push him over the edge. Aurélien let out a low growl, trying to banish the thoughts of Zuri from his mind as he focused on the warmth of Lia's mouth, the tight suction that was driving him closer to release. He tightened his grip on her hair, thrusting deeper into her throat, the need for release overriding everything else.

Finally, with a rough groan, Aurélien came, his body shuddering as he spilled into Lia’s mouth. She took it all, swallowing greedily as he rode out his climax, her lips still wrapped around him until he was spent.

When it was over, Lia slowly pulled back, wiping the corner of her mouth with a satisfied smirk. Aurélien leaned against the wall, catching his breath, his mind already turning back to the reality he was trying to escape.

"Needed that," he muttered, his voice rough.

Lia stood, straightening her dress as she shot him a playful look. "Anytime," she teased, giving him a light tap on the chest before standing up to her full height. "Y'know that was only a preview right?"

Aurélien adjusted his clothes, feeling the weight of everything settling back on his shoulders. "I know, but I'm fine with that preview."

"You sure?"

"100%," he said, deftly ignoring the pout on her lips. "Thank you."

Lia shrugged as she fixed her dress, "You're welcome, I guess."

This had been a temporary distraction, nothing more. As he exited the storage room, his thoughts were already drifting back to Zuri and the mess he knew was waiting for him.

Should've kept my dick in my pants.

Aurélien felt surprisingly guilty as he made his way back to the main area of the club, spotting Jules near the exit with Lia's friend. The two men approached each other, exchanging a quick dap.

"Heading out?" Aurélien asked, eyeing the woman waiting with Jules.

Jules grinned, "Yeah, man. You good?"

Aurélien nodded despite his slight uneasiness, "All good. See you tomorrow?"

"For sure. Later, bro."

With a final fist bump, they parted ways. Aurélien watched them leave before calling for his own ride home.

The house was dark when he arrived, save for the flickering light of the TV in the living room. As he approached, Zeus lifted his head from the couch, tail wagging slightly at the sight of his owner.

"Hey, boy," Aurélien whispered, moving closer. That's when he noticed Zuri, curled up on the couch next to Zeus, fast asleep.

A small smile tugged at his lips. He'd have to tease her tomorrow about cozying up to the dog she was so afraid of earlier. Quietly, he retrieved a blanket from a nearby chair and gently draped it over her sleeping form.

As he leaned in, he couldn't help but notice the dried tear tracks on her cheeks. The sight sobered him instantly, reminding him of the reality of their situation.

"We're both fucked, huh sweetheart?" he murmured, more to himself than to her or Zeus.

With a sigh, he turned off the TV and headed upstairs. In his room, he shed his clothes, the scent of the club – and Lia – still clinging to him. As he stepped into the shower, letting the hot water wash over him, his mind raced.

This arranged marriage... it wasn't what either of them wanted. But it was their reality now. As the water ran cold, Aurélien couldn't shake the feeling that his life had irrevocably changed. The carefree bachelor was gone, and in its place? A reluctant husband? A man trapped in a loveless marriage?

As he climbed into bed, exhaustion finally overtaking him, his last thought before drifting off was of Zuri's tear-stained face. Whatever happened next, he realized, they were in this together.

TO BE CONTINUED...Read Chapter 2

[novashelby]

Quick Shot~A Tommy Shelby x Reader Smut

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x Reader

Word Count: 3.4k

Warning: smut, p in v, gun talk, language, insinuated gun use, dub con

Summary: To get away, Tommy visits a pub outside of Birmingham. The barmaid is quite interested in his gun and he makes her a little promise. *I got a request for a smut when Tommy teaches reader how to shoot. But there is quite a few one shots like that, so I made something inspired by it. If the person who requested doesn't like this, please request again. :)

Please reblog and comment. Likes are so kind, but reblogs and comments are much more helpful to a writer. :) Please also enjoy!

“Target practice, Mr. Shelby?” she had asked as her hand quickly swiped down at the wooden counter. Little specks of soapy water hit his steam pressed sports jacket. He didn’t mind. Tommy Shelby knew what he was getting into in a pub such as that one. The Garrison was his go-to, but when he wanted to drink in complete solitude while still enjoying background noise, he went to a shabby one in an outskirt village. The barmaid had a bit more edge and hardly cared who he was. Admittedly, he found it to be refreshing. She grinned at him, placing the wet rag at her hip. “Forgetting to leave your big boy toys at home, eh?” The barmaid also lacked the Brummie tongue. 

Amused, his lips paused at the rim of his glass as his eyes fluttered upward. “Haven’t been home yet. Too busy.”

“Doing?” She pried a little bit more than the usual woman would. Though to her defense, she only knew Tommy Shelby, the factory owner. Not Tommy Shelby the gangster.  

He pulled the glass away from his lips, raising it to her. “Drinking!” he said, a sarcastic undertone that felt so comfortably familiar to her. He’d been going there on an off for a good two years if she had to calculate it. But there were so many faces that came and went, it was hard to tell. He, too, would leave at some point. Another lonely, lost man will take his seat and just like that, all over again, she’d have to become acquainted with another. 

She took an empty glass, and chuckled as she raised it. “To drinking-”

“But you aren’t-”

“I can’t,” she said, placing it back down in its proper spot. She went back to drying the counter, swiping it left to right with a new rag, trying to be mindful of his arm. “Sorry,” she mumbled when it lightly braised his propped elbow. 

Tommy Shelby lazily looked down at his elbow before fluttering his eyes upward. He always wore that sneaky little grin when he wasn’t completely serious. Unfortunately over the years, he had lost it along the way. Less to be amused about and more to be serious about, he assumed. But there, with her, almost alone in an empty pub, he wore it once more. The time was dwindling on the gray line of open and closed. But he showed no interest in leaving and she didn’t care. “Oh no, that was just unacceptable. You’ve done it this time.”

“Hmm, someone as witty as you, Mr. Shelby, I’d thought I would have received a better comeback. You’re slipping,” she said, matching his grin. They took a little pause, having a silent tango; eyes connecting, facial expression matching. When he wiggled his brows up in a quizzical look, she took no shame in mocking him. Neither a girl or woman in Birmingham would dare. But he found comfort in her antics. He wasn’t the Tommy Shelby, but just Tommy Shelby. It was the closest to pre-war Tommy he could get. 

“I’m getting old,” he said, finishing off his glass. She was quick to turn for the whiskey bottle and top him off before he even asked. Tommy was mid stand, ready to leave when she made the silent gesture for him to stay. “I’m driving-”

“And I’m walking,” she said, quick. Once again, they stopped their mundane, routine acts to share a little stare and chuckle. “Plus, you didn’t seem like you were ready to leave. I spared you the awkwardness of saying goodbye.” When he objected, claiming that she must be tired and that home was calling, she told him, “you want to stay more than I have the urge to leave, Mr. Shelby. Plus, I’m curious about you in a way I can’t be curious about on the clock-”

“That’s dangerous,” he accused, sipping at the brown poor man’s liquor. She hung up the rag for the night and locked the door. He had to wait for her to wash her hands of work before she joined him on the chair next to him. “Knowing too much of me is like a curse, and you’re only young-”

“Not as young as you think,” she said, taking his glass and sipping it lightly. His look said I thought you don’t drink. “It was hardly a sip for taste. Besides, from all your mystery, perhaps I may need a few sips.” Tommy slid it back to her, allowing her to have the rest. “I’m twenty-”

He cut her off, leaning in, “I have you beat by a good fourteen years.” Tommy enjoyed the aged old compliment. You look good for your age, but she never gave it to him. Only took continual sips of liquor because she can’t drink. She giggled to herself. He cut her off before she could add the eight to her age. 

Though after a while, she did say, “I heard thirty-four is the new twenty-two. But that isn’t actually what I meant by prying into your business. Hardly care about your logistics like age and birthday, Mr. Shelby. I want to know the fun stuff.” That made him laugh, but she wasn’t laughing. When he tried to protest, saying nothing about him was fun per se, her hand teased at his knee for a moment, lingering there casually. Tommy cocked a brow, mouth slightly agape. He slowly dropped his eyes, watching her fingers spread over his knee, finger tips pressing in. She was entranced by how she so casually came up on him, he hardly heard what she said. “Like what you use that gun for.” 

It was a good minute or so before he answered, as her fingers inched up past his knee, resting more on his mid-thigh. “You shouldn’t really ask what a man uses his gun for, love,” he said, in a mere, barely audible whisper. His eyes never left her hand, watching, patiently waiting to see what her intent was. It was entirely possible she was just being friendly, he thought, never previously considering the pretty barmaid. The ring on his left hand banned him from that. 

“Should I be worried you’re out shooting people and not targets?” she asked, leaning her head down to make him look at her. “Hmm?” 

“Depending on who you ask, people can be targets, too,” he said, finding him doing something that he hadn’t done to anyone other than his wife in a long time. His arms found their way around her waist to pull her in from the chair she’d been sitting on. I’m not usually a lap lady, she said as he rested her over his lap. It was his turn to feel over her thigh and lay it to rest on the inner most part. Her arms loosely hung over his shoulders. 

“That sounds like I should be sliding off your lap, Mr. Shelby,” she teased, eyes glancing to the hunk of dangerous metal strapped to his hip. “Isn’t it strange…being so close to something so lethal?” She dropped one hand to touch it but he was quick to grab her hand, his trust not being fully there with anyone. Startled, she turned her direction back to him. His fingers curled over hers, pressing with a warning. Her fingertips were turning slightly white.  She opened her mouth to speak.

He stopped her, tone turning a bit forceful. “You didn’t ask. You want to touch my gun?”  Her eyes went from flirty to startled to doe-like very quickly. She nodded and he let go of her hand to unstrap his gun and take it out. Her breath hitched as he raised it between their faces. Taunting her, his finger looped around the trigger, caressing it. She went to hold it over his hand, but he stopped her. “But you have to touch something else first-”

“Mr. Shelby,” she snorted, putting her hand down. “Thought you had more class than that. Aren’t you too old to be playing those boy games-”

Perhaps stupidly, he placed his gun on the counter, where she could easily reach it. Or maybe he was confident she wouldn’t. That he’d be good enough for her to be preoccupied with. “What boy games?” he teased, pulling her in more, making her legs rest over the sides of his so she was facing him. Taunting, teasing circles were rubbed on her back over her white blouse. He knew he was being childish in the last spot he could be childish. “Hm?” His fingers felt along her back traveling over her hips. Her breath was caught in her throat. It’d been quite sometime since a man laid their hands so intimately over her body expressing the need for her and solely her. She’d be lying if she said it wasn’t a boost in ego. Palms pressed against her stomach, he felt upward. Each little centimeter closer to her breasts, her fingers tensed. But he skipped over them, going for her arms instead. He knew what she was thinking. The disappointed rush of an exhale exposed all her secrets. 

“You’re playing a game right now.” She pressed into him a bit harder feeling the tent in his trousers poke at her inner thigh. He chuckled as she told him things he already knew. Tommy Shelby was in no rush to go home. Besides, he needed to fuck off the drunken buzz in his head.

Their foreheads touched and he wasted no time, leaning in to trap her bottom lip between his teeth. He couldn’t kiss her. As bad is sounded, he wasn’t going to kiss another woman, but he was going to fuck her. Not just fuck her, but run his hands over her body, touching each and every crevice and space. “It’s been awhile,” he said, half apologetically in response as he pulled back. Her lips wore a reddened shade from where he bit. There was some sort of silent agreement where she understood it. She understood what it was. Her and him, pressed up against one another. It was a fuck and only a fuck, leaving traces of romantic intimacy at the door.

Impatiently, she bunched up her skirt, placing it over her knees. As she fumbled with the fabric, she asked him, “Are you going to be greedy then?” What an insulting thing to ask, he thought, but instead of answering her, he slipped his hand under her, pressing his palm against her cotton white panties. Challenging her, he cocked a brow as if to ask, do I seem the type? She lifted her hips a bit to give him some room to slip her underwear off to the side before sliding his hand over. “Mr. Shelby,” she gasped out in anticipation. 

Smiling to himself, he felt over her wet folds with his two forefingers, before slipping beneath the outer folds. “Still Mr. Shelby, eh?” As if it was an order, she immediately responded with Tommy. Doing the same thing as she did to her breasts, he touched everywhere except where she wanted to be touched. It was amusing as she shifted and rolled around her hips, trying to take control of the situation she was never meant to have control of. His fingers lightly danced over the flesh around her clit and vagina, purposefully avoiding any hope. When she got a little too pushy, he pulled away, using the same hand to cradle her throat just tight enough to hold her in place. “Don’t be greedy,” he mocked with a stern tone, using her same lingo. He leaned in, lips hovering over her temple. Little ghost kisses haunting her desires. Pathetic, perhaps, but a tiny fear hung over her. What if he wasn’t going to fuck her was a nagging thought. 

“Fuck me,” she said abruptly, not even sure how or why the words came out the way they did. “I need you to fuck me-”

“And I need you to be patient,” he said, palms finding their way back to her tummy going straight for her breasts barely contained by her buttoned blouse. A long string of moans sang from her lips as he cupped them over her clothing, squeezing decently hard. Nipples perked, he teased them in circles with his finger tips. “You asked me not to be greedy,” he teased, tongue flicking at her earlobe. “But I think you should take your advice, hm? Or do you think that doesn’t apply to you because you’re a woman, eh?” Stopping his groping, he started with the top button, painfully slow. One by one he undid them, allowing the cool pub air to touch her chest. Tommy didn’t even have the chance to slip it down her shoulders, feeling her goose bumped arms before she had torn it off and tossed it somewhere beside them. 

“No,” she said, grinding down her hips, wet slick soiling his trousers. “I’m horny and you’re being an ass...I asked you to fuck me. Are you going to fuck me or are you going to leave me like this?” Amused by her assertiveness, he sat back and grinned. She mocked it. “It’s been awhile.”

“Really? A pretty girl like you working in a pub?” he challenged, not believing her. “Surely you have a twisted idea of time. What’s awhile? A month-”

“Two years,” she confused, fingers undoing his belt, cursing at the clasp. He didn’t believe her, but chose not to press the reasoning. In the grand scheme of shit, it didn’t matter. Instead, he helped her with his trousers, undoing his buttons and pulling down the zipper. “I got it,” she fussed, pushing his hand out of the way. Tommy watched as she pulled down his underwear just enough to let his cock out. 

“Alright, alright,” he laughed, scoping her up from under ass before positioning his cock. But he wouldn’t allow her to slam down. Gently, he teased at the entrance with his tip, saying, “just the tip.”

“You didn’t even finger me,” she teased back. “Selfish arse!”

“Maybe when I hit a target with my gun.”

“A still one?” she snorted, finding her way to leave playful bites along his jawline. 

“A breathing one,” he said, and before she could react, slamming himself upward, balls hitting her backside. He held her there, studying her face. It was nothing, but a silent scream. A part of him felt a tinge of guilt that he hardly prepped the poor girl, but all her selfish antics made him a bit greedy. “You feel it? This is exactly what you begged for-”

“I said don’t be-”

“Greedy?” he teased, cupping her fragile cheek with one hand as his other teasingly rolled her nipple between his fingers. He rolled up his hips meeting her aching cervix. The pain radiated through her lower half, sending up a searing heat. She hissed, digging her fingernails into his sports coat covered arms. Too deep, she winced through her clenched teeth. “Yeah?” he asked, fake concern lingering, lightly jutting forward, pressing deeper just to watch the painful facial expression laid on her face. “You’re brat…I don’t like brats.”

“Mr. Shelby,” she whined, twitching around him. Pleading, she wanted him to ease. Which he obliged, and lifted her up a bit, pulling himself back. When she regained her composure, she took the wheel and rolled her hips into him; sliding up and down, attempting to slide her hand down to her throbbing clit, but he caught it. 

“No, no,” he said, clasping her hand in his, keeping it there. She was about to complain, but he pressed a finger to her lips. “Shh, just keep riding me…relax me. I’ve had a long day.” She nodded, resting her other hand on his shoulder for support as she raised her hips, a moan stuck in the back of her throat, feeling his thick cock sliding up and down her needy walls. He rested back, his breaths becoming ragged and hitched. She giggled when he rolled his head back, allowing her hand to slip from his grasp. But she was a good girl and didn’t dare touch her clit. She placed it on his other shoulder for support.

She circled her hips, watching his lip quiver stealing his grin. “Am I in charge, now?” she asked in a gasped, speeding up her pace, bouncing up and down. His eyes hazily watched her breasts follow along, taking one in each hand. He massaged them, fingers teasing at the nipples; pulling, pinching, flicking. It sent a perfect tingle down her spine. “Shit,” she gasped, leaning down, resting their foreheads together. It wasn’t supposed to be intimate. It’s just sex. But they kept eye contact, relaxing into each other's rhythms. 

“I’ll play along,” he said, licking up at her lips, but when she went to kiss him, he turned his head. “Keep ridin’ me.” He demanded her in a bathless gasp, getting impatient. He wanted a quick release. She let out a needy cry, begging him why when he slipped his hands from her sensitive breasts down to her hips, gripping them tightly. His knuckles turned white as his fingers dug into her soft flesh. Hard enough she could have sworn she felt him touching her hip bone. 

“Yes, sir,” she mocked, going faster; slamming down on him and enjoying the way his moans were deep and throaty. He jutted up, meeting her in her dips. Tommy’s thrusts got messy the faster they were. It was as if they were competing with who can go the fastest. No, who can wear the other one out first. It was her, of course. She wasn’t going to come from this and he selfishly knew that, enjoying the way her pussy felt around him. “Tommy!” She cried out, holding herself closer to his chest.

“Fuck, your pussy feels so good,” he said, sliding his lips down her neck to bite at her shoulder, growling. “Shit.” It was muffled and low. Rudely, he repeatedly slammed into her cervix, hardly giving her time to breathe and ease it as he felt his climax approach.

She pulled her face away from him and gripped his jaw. “Not in me,” she warned.

“No?” he laughed in breaths. “Where do you want it, huh? Your tits? Belly? Your arse?” He gave her ass a generous squeeze before reaching up and tangling his fingers in her hair, pulling her head back slightly. He felt his climax near, slowing his thrusts just enough to slip from her cunt. “Fuck!” He cursed, tugging his cock one handedly. A deep red flushed over her cheeks as she felt a stream of hot cum spray up her back and drip down over her ass. “Shit,” he moaned, out, closing his eyes to catch his breath. “Fookin’ ‘ell.” She slumped against him, sweaty and hot, but he didn’t allow her to rest long, pushing her off. “I have to get goin’, love,” he said, patting her cheek. 

“So you really are going to leave me like this?” she asked, referring to her lack of orgasm.

Tommy Shelby slid from his chair and fixed his trousers. “I told you, I hit a target and I’ll give the lady what she needs.” He winked, grabbing his gun from the counter. 

She laughed as if he was being humorous. He hardly said good night as he left. He wasn’t a weekly regular, but perhaps bi-weekly. Every other week he’d come in for the same thing; a whiskey neat. But it was going on three weeks then sooner or later a whole season passed without Tommy Shelby. But it was normal. People came and went, and she cursed herself each time she became attached to one person’s presence. 

However one night a few too many weeks later he came in as she was cleaning up. Through the reflection in a dark whiskey bottle, she saw him take a seat. A metal clink echoed the empty pub as he put down his gun. “We’re closed-”

“I’m not here for a drink,” he said. 

“I’m closed,” she said, not forgiving his selfish quick shot. 

He chuckled. “Say, love, do you prefer the feeling of a man's firm hand or soft tongue?” She froze, fingers knotting in the wet rag she used to clean the glasses. Swallowing, she turned to see the gun first then spots of red on his white shirt. Nervously, she looked up his arm to his face that wore specks of red. “Perhaps both at the same time-”

“Mr. Shelby-”

“C’mere,” he demanded, not asked. “And I’ll show you how much of a man of my word I am.”

[jsprnt]

Americano PT. 1 | Jude Bellingham x Reader

What happens if two individuals who absolutely despise each other are forced to interact after unforeseen events occur?

A/N: part one is here, enjoy! <3

W/C: 3.398

Introduction

"Can you try smiling this time?"

I mumble, holding myself back from rolling my eyes in annoyance. I click my tongue, standing behind Luis, my close friend and cameraman.

"The photo needs to be edited later, for sure. Looks a little off compared to the others." I tell Luis, sending an insult to the man in front of the camera, in English for him to hear.

Even so, Luis and I usually spoke English to each other. It being a language we were both very well versed in.

Jude doesn't even look like he wants to be here, at all. He wouldn't be the only one, that was for sure. 

"That's good enough, Bellingham. You can go." I say, folding my arms up to my chest.

"Finally." He mutters, rolling his eyes, the Brummie accent, which was quite new to me, rolling off his tongue.

He raises his hands, smoothing down his shirt, before nodding at Luis with a smile and leaving, not acknowledging me per usual.

"Douchebag." I mumble, solely for myself to hear, but I notice Luis glancing at me.

"What?" I ask, rolling the papers in my hands into a tube out of boredom. The letters curving with the bend of the paper.

"You two are becoming more insufferable every day." He says, going to wipe his camera lens with a microfiber cloth. He treated his cameras like his actual children.

"Not my fault." I reply through clenched teeth, placing a hand on my hip.

"You spilled an entire americano on his brand new, white kit. On his first day here." He says, recalling the embarrassing and aggravating incident.

"It was just an accident!" I retort, unfolding the papers again. "We could have moved on from that after I apologized, but he's decided to be an asshole about it."

So, who was the insufferable one here?

He doesn't say anything else, an uninterested sigh leaving his lips as he distracts himself with the lens.

I saw Luis as the older brother I never had, but he wasn't even taking my side in the situation.

Traitor.

I huff, turning away and looking around the pitch for some entertainment I could turn into content.

My eyes catch the players of the club warming up a couple meters away.

Easy content, my favorite.

"Can I get a camera?" I nudge Luis, his eyes looking up at mine.

"Should I trust you with one?" He says, voice unsure.

"Yes, just give me the smaller one." I usher, holding my hand out in anticipation.

He sighs again, grabbing the requested camera out of his equipment bag.

"Two hands." He mutters.

I roll my eyes, grabbing the camera with the apparently very necessary, two hands.

"I'll take care of your child." I mock, smile tugging at my lips as I see him get annoyed.

"Chill, I've got it." I add, walking away from him.

I was being serious, of course.

Firstly, I wanted these shots to come out perfectly. Secondly, I didn't want to get killed by him for ruining his precious camera. I had enough enemies in this club already. Losing an ally wasn't on my bingo list this season.

I turn the camera on clumsily, pointing it at the training players as I'm standing behind the goal.

How the hell does a small camera weigh this much? It genuinely felt like a bag of rocks weighing down on my arms.

I try to ignore the heaviness of the camera, filming the individual shooting of the players. Moving the camera when necessary.

I stand there for a moment, before I hear Luis come up to me, finally taking the camera out of my hands.

"How the hell do you even hold these cameras? My arm almost went numb." I say, rubbing my tired arm as I look at him.

"I go to the gym, unlike you- and I'm used to it by now." He replies, focusing on filming.

The urge to say something petty back is interrupted as Camavinga suddenly yells at us, our heads snapping up.

« Tu filmes? » are you filming?

He shouts in French, standing in his position.

I used to whine and complain about having to take French back in school, but now I was genuinely grateful for it. It was very useful now, even though I had forgotten a great chunk of it.

"Want us to?" I shout back in English, ignoring the fact that we are shouting back and forth like maniacs. He nods, giving us a thumbs up.

"Yeah, go ahead." I nudge Luis, making him film again. I grab him, making him take a step back for safety, watching Cama receive the ball and shoot, hitting the net perfectly.

I cheer quietly, not wanting to disturb the audio of the footage as he smiles back at me, walking back to stand and watch the other players.

I have been working in the marketing and PR department at Real Madrid for about two years now. The club and players were generally very nice to work with, which made my job so much better.

It wasn't my permanent job. I had just started my third year of my law degree this new school year, combining online classes with this job. Balancing did get difficult at times, but I liked the fact that it kept me busy and motivated.

"Think we're good to go." Luis says, interrupting my thoughts as he points his camera downward.

"You sure?" I ask, whipping my head around.

"Yeah, the sun is about to melt us and the camera. Come on, let's go inside." He says, grabbing my wrist and dragging me away from the pitch

"If you read this sentence, does it sound like I know what I'm talking about?" I ask Lina, her face scrunching up almost instantly. 

I was confident enough to write this essay on my own, really, but having a friend keep me company made it way more fun. 

"You know I don't like thinking about school. That's in the past for me." She says, her hands coming up in front of her defensively. 

"Come on, please? I'll grab a drink for you in a minute." I beg, placing my hands on her shoulders, shaking her back and forth.

"Make it two."

"Deal."

"Okay, show me." She says, shoving a piece of pineapple into her mouth, grabbing my laptop and leaning forward as I repeat the question. 

She types away for a second, adding a few words before turning to me after reading the sentence again. 

"What are you writing? The damn Magna Carta? What kind of essay is this?" She asks, her eyebrows raised. 

"It's about EU law." I sigh, I liked this subject, it was very interesting, but I couldn't wait to be done with this fifteen page essay. 

"Explains a lot." She says, shoving another piece of fruit into her mouth. Her fork suddenly appearing in front of my face, a piece of watermelon spiced onto it. 

"Thanks." I mutter, biting off the piece of fruit as I hear commotion in the hallways. 

"Get me my drinks, please?" She asks, blinking at me. I roll my eyes, push my laptop back and get up. 

"Let me guess, a lime soda and an orange juice?" 

"You got it." She winks, smiling at me. 

I chuckle at her, looking up as I watch the players pile into the cafeteria. 

"Lunchtime?" I mouth at Lina, she checks the time on her phone, nodding. 

I make my way to the bar, extending my arms up to grab two cups. The feeling of someone's hand on mine catching me off guard as I immediately let go of the cup. Turning around to see Jude right behind me. 

"What are you doing?" I ask, sending him a nasty look. Invading my personal space wasn't enough, now he wants to steal my cup?

"Grabbing a cup?" He retorts in a menacing tone, sending a glare back. 

I look at him, watching him fill his stolen cup with water, before he looks at me again. 

"What?"

"Can you move?" I ask through gritted teeth, motioning to him how he's basically entrapping me in between the counter and himself. 

He looks at me for a second as if to provoke me more, finally stepping away when I sigh. 

I scoff, rolling my eyes and extend my arm to grab another cup apart from the one I already had. 

I give him another nasty look, before filling both cups up and finally leaving his vicinity. 

"Don't spill it on anyone." He says, mocking tone clear as day. 

I turn again, fighting the urge to throw the precious orange juice into his annoying face before sighing and walking away. 

"Hope he chokes on his water." I mutter, finally putting the two cups down on the table, in front of Lina. 

"What was that back there? Another one of your tantrums?"

"No, his tantrum after he couldn't grab another cup, other than the one my hand was already on."

She chuckles, and I send her a slight glare, trying to delve back into my essay. 

I was maybe halfway through already, having to hand it in next week. I might have procrastinated a little, but one thing about me was that I'll always get it done on time. No matter what. 

Though, as I keep reading the word vomit I had written, I feel a wave of annoyance flow through me. I grunt, putting my face flat on the table. 

Two more years, then I could finally do my specialization. Two more years. 

"What's gotten into her?" I hear, recognizing Luis' voice. Then I hear a shift of the chair across from me as he sits down with- probably a tray of food. 

"Essay." I hear Lina mumble, a hum coming from Luis in acknowledgment.

"Are you still not done with that essay? You got it assigned like three weeks ago." He says in a nagging tone. 

I groan, remembering that I said that I wouldn't procrastinate this school year. Past me definitely hated the present me, and for sure hated future me even more if I kept this up. 

I raise my head, huffing before sitting up straight.  I blink a couple times to clear my vision and start to vigorously type again. 

"Have you guys seen the final edit for tomorrow's match?" Luis says, covering his full mouth with his hand. 

"No, who approved it?" I ask confused, glancing at the both of them and returning my gaze to my screen.

"Valeria did." He says. I look at him for a moment, scrunching my eyebrows together. 

"Not surprised." I mutter, taking a sip of my coffee. 

"Speaking of the devil." Lina says, and my eyes immediately dart around the room to find the devil in question. 

She's staring right at our table, making a beeline towards us as the clicks of her heels get louder and louder. 

Please don't sit here. 

She gives us a painfully fake smile, swinging the iPad in her hand back and forth. 

"Have you guys seen the edit I approved?"

Not even a hello?

"No, we haven't." Lina answers, and I stare at Valeria as she unfortunately sits across from me. 

She chuckles, practically shoving the IPad in our faces, showing off the edit. 

"It's perfect, isn't it?" She chuckles again, and I fight the urge to cover my ears instead of hearing her ear deafening, high-pitched laughter. 

"It's alright." I say, giving her a smile. My opinion really didn't matter to her anyway, the least I could do was pretend to like it. 

She nods, suddenly looking directly at me, glancing down at my laptop. 

"Still working on school? Can't even think of how someone like you can balance it with this busy job." She says, smile pulling at her lips. 

I raise my brows, looking at Lina and Luis for confirmation of what I had just heard her say. 

They give me the same 'what the fuck' look, and I look back at Valeria, giving her a fake smile. 

"I'm sure you couldn't think of it, Valeria." I say, keeping my retort minimal, I had to keep it professional, unlike her. 

She looks at me, no words are exchanged further as an almost minute long silence follows. 

She finally decides to leave after, sending both Luis and Lina a wave, doing her best to ignore me further. 

"She's so weird. Always on my ass about something." I mutter, starting to type again. 

"Don't think she's gotten over the fact that you were chosen to travel with the team this season." Lina says, patting my shoulder. 

"Well, too bad for her. Like I've got time for her petty conversations."

If I was being honest; I couldn't stand being within five meters of her. And with the amount of meetings we had together, made life a little more difficult than I would've liked. 

"Besides, you're coming with me. Why isn't she on your ass as well?" I ask Luis, seeing him shrug. 

"Because I'm handsome?" He smirks, starting to flex his arms. 

"She's annoying, but she doesn't have a vision problem." I hear Lina say, the both of us bursting out in laughter. Luis looking at us with the most defeated look ever, making us laugh even louder.

"Okay, alright, sorry. You're very handsome, we're just having a little fun. I promise." I say patting his hand, holding back more laughter as I dab away moisture from my eyes. 

I finish typing my current chapter after calming down, observing the text, and double saving the document before turning my laptop off. I look around for a second, seeing the players and staff chat and laugh together. The buzzing of my phone redirecting my attention back to our table. 

"y/n- your phone." Lina says, grabbing it to hand it to me. 

I grab it after thanking her, reading the caller ID. 

"Oh, it's my dad." I mutter. "I'll be back in a minute." I say, standing up to walk out of the cafeteria. I look around for a moment, then slide my finger to the right to pick up the call. 

"Dad?"

"y/n, how's work going?" He says, the sound of a paper shredder in the background almost sabotaging my understanding of his sentence. 

"Good, we're having lunch. How about you?" I reply, leaning against the wall. 

"Same old. I called to tell you- I'm not having dinner at home tonight. Ask Carmen to make something you want to eat." 

I hold back a sigh, closing my eyes in annoyance. He'd been working a lot since I was little, day and night. It had paid off very well. We had a big house and a beautiful backyard. He owned a law firm, in a nice area of the city and had a lot of clients.

His firm was also the legal representative of the club, being very close with President Pérez and manager Ancelotti themselves and other higher ups. 

Of course, I was still thankful, I never had to worry about necessities like food and clothes, they were always provided for me on a silver spoon. 

"Alright dad. See you tonight, love you." 

I hang up, shoving my phone into my back pocket, and walk back into the cafeteria.

"I'm going back to the office." I tell Lina and Luis, them looking up at me in concern. 

"Why? Did something happen?" Luis asks, fixing his dark, curly hair.  

"No, I just want to make sure everything is perfect for tomorrow." I force a smile, trying to cover up the fact that my mood was definitely ruined after that phone call. 

I grab my laptop, holding it in between my arm and chest as I start making my way out of the cafeteria. 

Not before I'm stopped by someone calling out to me. 

"y/n!" I hear, looking up and seeing Vini call me over, Rodrygo and sadly, Jude standing next to him. 

How did this communication even work?

I raise a brow, walking over to them. 

"What's with that face? Trouble with your boyfriend?" Vini says in Spanish, greeting me with a hug. 

"It's nothing like that! It was just my dad." I deny, laughing at him. My smile totally disappearing from my face when I make accidental eye contact with an irritated looking Jude next to Vini.

"Right, how's your dad? He hasn't been around lately." Rodrygo asks, greeting me as well. 

"Busy- you know how he is..." I reply, swatting my hand. "I'll try to convince him to visit." I smile. 

"Will you be coming with us to tomorrow's match?" Vini asks. 

"Oh yeah, I'll be joining you on all the matches this season. You guys got lucky this time." I joke, giving him a little wink. 

The two Brazilian men laugh, Vini patting my shoulder as I excuse myself to go up. 

I twist the key in the door lock, opening the front door to my house. The smell of spices and sauces filling up my nostrils. I scramble to take my shoes off, throwing my bag onto the floor and making a beeline to the kitchen area. 

"Aunty Carmen!" I exclaim, hugging her tightly. 

"Oh my girl!" She coos, squeezing me even tighter. 

"I missed you so much." I say, planting a kiss on her soft cheek, letting go of her. 

"Me too. Come on, get cleaned up and we'll have dinner." She says warmly, going back to stirring the food. 

Aunty Carmen was the lady who had been cooking for me and my dad since I was a child. Her food was finger-licking good, and I don't think I could ever survive without it. 

She'd partially raised me, alongside my biological aunt, whom I lived in the UK with for a couple of years. 

I had begged my dad to not send me to a boarding school, so he'd decided to send me off to live with my aunt, and made me attend an international school instead. A place, consisting of cultures and languages I always craved to be surrounded with becoming my second home. 

"When is your dad coming?"

"Oh no, my dad isn't coming for dinner." I explain, pulling out two spoons and two forks out of the cabinet and walking over to the dinner table. 

"He wasn't home last time either, why?"

"Too busy. You know how he is." I mumble, filling her glass with water. 

"I'm sorry, my girl." 

"It's fine- I'm used to it by now. You're here tonight at least." I beam, starting to dig into the food. 

"Aunty, you never disappoint!" I exclaim, shoving another spoonful of food into my mouth.

"Slow down! It's not going to run away from you." She fusses, taking a bite of the food herself. 

A comfortable silence falls in between us, the sound of our utensils clattering against the plates and bowls accompanied by the occasional comment about the taste of the food. 

I join her in cleaning up the table, placing the rinsed dirty dishes in the dishwasher, and putting  the leftovers into the fridge. 

"If you look closely, you can see the food I made for the rest of the week. Make sure you close the lids well, so it can stay fresh." She says, drying her wet hands on a kitchen towel. 

"Thank you." I say, giving her another hug. 

"Oh, you're leaving already?" I ask, watching her grab her handbag. It was a pretty brown bag, a birthday present from me a couple years ago. 

"I do sweetie. Take care of yourself." She says, pulling me into a hug. 

"-and lock your doors, don't open them for anyone." 

"You know I'm not a child anymore. I'm twenty already! Besides, we have security cameras everywhere." I complain, folding my arms up to my chest. 

"You've grown up too fast." She says, pinching the fat of my cheek, making me whine at the pain. 

I sigh, a little sad as she opens the front door and walks out. I wave one more time, closing the door behind her and locking it as she had instructed. 

My dad had keys to get in when I went to bed anyway. 

I decide to get ready for bed, turning on the now full dishwasher, and going up to my room. Hoping everything will go smoothly as planned tomorrow.

[runnning-outof-time]

Couldn't resist sending another in after going through your prompt list for your 3.5K celebration again 😁!

"How do babies get made?" For Arthur. Please make this as awkward as humanly possible for him 😂😈. I can't wait ❤️!

Hey there Brummie! Thanks for sending this in! I’m sorry it took me a bit to write. I love that you chose Arthur for this one because I could just see him melting from the awkwardness! I hope I hit the mark!! Enjoy! :)

I’D LOVE TO KNOW WHAT YOU THINK! - YOUR COMMENTS & REBLOGS HELP ME WRITE!

Part of my 3.5k celebration — find other stories here!

Put On the Spot

Arthur Shelby x Reader

Warnings: awkward Arthur

Word Count: 1139

Summary: Arthur gets put on the spot when his child asks him a rather interesting question.

“Daddy!!” Arthur’s two children exclaimed in unison as they bursted through the door and found him standing by the window. He knelt down to greet them, allowing them to nearly tackle him with a hug.

“I thought I saw you two coming up the drive,” he said to the kids, glancing at the door to see (Y/N) entering the house. Their eyes locked and he sent her a smile before focusing on his children again.

“We got to go for a long walk today!” Lily, the younger of the two children, said with glee.

“Did ya?” Arthur asked with raised eyebrows, showing his interest in the story. He kept glancing up at his wife, watching as she made her way to sit on one of the chairs. The glint that was present in her eyes immediately told him that she had something to say.

“Yes! Mum let us keep going and going, all the way down to the end of our road!” Maya, the eldest, chimed in, turning to smile at her mother once she was done talking.

“That sounds like a good time. I’m sorry I missed out on it,” Arthur frowned slightly as he looked between his daughters.

“That’s ok. You can come next time!” Lily accepted his apology before quickly throwing an idea out, one that Maya was nodding incessantly at.

“I’ll join ya next time then,” Arthur agreed on it, smiling at his two girls before he set his sights on (Y/N) once more. “How did you enjoy your walk, love?” he asked as he moved over to the back of the chair she was sitting on so that he could set his hands on her shoulders.

“It was…” (Y/N) paused, trying to find the correct word to fit the situation she’d just experienced, “interesting.”

“Interesting?” Arthur questioned, his brows furrowed.

“Yes,” she affirmed.

“Interesting how?”

“Maya asked me a question that caught me completely off guard,” (Y/N) shared. Arthur’s brows furrowed deeper.

“What was the question?”

“I told her to ask you it when we returned home,” she answered as she nodded her head towards their two daughters, who were now playing. “Go ask her,” she added with a tight lipped smile.

Arthur’s eyes shifted from his wife to his daughter and back again, hesitance clear in his actions. (Y/N) raised her eyebrows at him, a non verbal way of saying ‘go on’. Arthur looked at her for a moment longer before he slowly made his way to where the girls were playing.

“Maya…” he started, at first saying the little girl’s name like he was some shy child on the playground. Come on, Arthur, she’s eight…man up, he told himself, clearing his throat and trying another angle. “Maya, your mum said you had a question for me?” he asked her, more confidence present in his tone now.

Maya looked up the second she heard her father’s voice and was nodding instantly. “Oh yeah,” she started, standing up so that she could move closer to him. “How do babies get made?” she asked in an innocent voice, looking up at her father with her big, doe eyes.

Arthur froze when he heard her question. His eyes widened and his jaw went slack as he looked over to (Y/N), who was currently biting on her cheek to stop her laughter. She expected this sort of reaction from her husband, but seeing his face drain of its color as he mentally scrambled for an answer was even more entertaining in person.

Warning bells were going off in Arthur’s mind as he tried to figure out how he was going to respond to the child’s question. He tipped his head to the side as he weighed out the paths he could possibly take. Maya may not believe an imaginary answer, but (Y/N) would sure smack me upside the head if I went the real route, he debated his choices.

“Dad?” Maya asked, wondering why it was taking so long for him to respond.

“Uhh…” Arthur drew out the word, buying himself more time, “well, why’re you askin’, sweetheart?” he asked a question of his own.

Maya was happy to answer him: “well I was thinking back to when mummy had Lily in her belly, and I knew that she was in her belly because mummy said that she came out of it. But I want to know how Lily got put in mummy’s belly. I know she wasn’t there the whole time.”

Arthur nodded along with his daughter’s statement, thankful that she was really explaining because it gave him more time to think up an answer. That still didn’t mean that he had said answer when she was done talking though. He glanced over at (Y/N) then, seeing that she was waiting expectantly for his answer.

“Well, Maya…” he trailed off, swallowing thickly, “your mum and I love each other very much, and when two people love each other like your mum and I do, they decide that they’re going to have a baby,” he explained, silently hoping that the topic would end there.

But, of course, Maya had another question: “how did the baby get into mummy’s belly?”

“Well that happens when…”

“Alright Maya, don’t you have some school work you could be doing?” (Y/N) cut Arthur off before he could stick his foot into his mouth. He sent her a surprised, and relieved, look.

“But daddy was answering my question!” the girl responded, a pout present on her face.

“There’ll be time to answer it later. You have school tomorrow and work that needs to get done. Go on,” (Y/N) stayed firm, nodding towards the staircase.

“Fine,” Maya grumbled, turning and making her way to the steps so that she could go up to her bedroom.

Arthur looked to Lily, who had been playing without a care in the world, before his eyes found (Y/N)’s. “Why did you step in?” he just had to ask.

“You wanted to keep fumbling?” (Y/N) asked with raised eyebrows.

“I wasn’t fumbling,” he insisted, although he was unable to look her in the eye as he spoke.

“If that’s what you want to tell yourself, darling,” she smiled at him as she stood from her chair. She walked over to him then, waiting until she was standing in front of him to speak again: “it was cute to watch you though,” she stated, leaning in to press a quick kiss to his lips before she backed away, going to ascend the stairs.

Arthur let out a huff once she was gone. He looked down at Lily and shook his head, wondering how many years would pass before she, too, was asking these types of questions. Oh how he hoped he still had some time left.

**Got a bit carried away with this one…hope y’all don’t mind!

Tagged: @the-anxious-youth @mystcldydrms @look-at-the-soul @mrsalwayswrite @julkaamazing @evita-shelby @lilyrachelcassidy @shelbydelrey @theshelbyslimited @peakyswritings @watercolorskyy @strayrockette @peakyduchesss @alexxavicry @stevie75 @dark-academia-slut @zablife @cillmequick @letal-y-poetica @depxiety @shelundeadxxxx @areyenotfondofmelobster @padfootdaredmetoo @crabat-the-queen @sebastianstangirl01 @everythingelseisextra @kmc1989 @papichulo120627 @brummiereader @adaydreamaway08 @kissforvoid @raincoffeeandfandoms @peakyltd @johannelis2302nely @just-a-blackhole @anotherblinder @christinasyellowflowers @insanitybyanothername @daisyblinder @wotcherpeak @call-sign-shark

MASTERLIST

[call-sign-shark]

*with Arthur’s hoarse voice* “Brummie. My sweet lil bunny, ye ain’t gonna leave me, ey? Tell me ye ain’t gonna leave your good Arthur hm?”

It’s true that he’s going full delulu in this second part, but for sure Bunny’s gonna have a hell of a hard time with her psychotic man if the switch in his brain flips. 🫣

Thank you so much for your reblog brummie I can’t wait for you to read it 😬 🖤And don’t worry, you can assume your love for Yandere!Arthur here cause I get it. (Pls choke us while wearing your leather gloves?”

Hey Bunny part. 2 || Teaser

A/N: Hey my lovely moots! Quick message to tell you that I'll be replying to each of your nice comments during this week end 'cause I've had quite a rough week. But I finished my thesis and sent it, so that's a win. In the meantime, here's a little teaser for the second part of Hey Bunny that's going to be posted on Tuesday!

Requests/Asks open for Yandere!Arthur. Prompt Ideas.

PART 1 || MASTERLIST

“Fuck me.” Arthur grunted when he noticed the damaged door handle, undeniable proof that you had done everything in your power to escape. He swallowed the lump that had formed in his throat… You had tried to escape. In a matter of seconds, Arthur’s heart rate had increased, and his mouth had gone dry at the escalating anger he was experiencing. Why? Why would you want to escape him? His first flicker of irritation manifested itself with the way his body tensed and the long inhale he took.

“I—I want to leave.” You said as firmly as you could, standing up in front of the bed.

“Leave?” His forehead creased under his frowning brows, “Nah, you ain’t leaving.” He straight off replied. All the softness and the honey with which he usually talked to you had disappeared, handing over a corrosive hostility. You batted your eyelashes in surprise, not recognizing him anymore.

Tagging some of Arthur’s bunnies who might be interested: @helen06dreamer @zablife @brummiereader @peakyltd @peakyswritings @dearshelby @raincoffeeandfandoms @beardedfacetimetravel

[brummiereader]

So here it is everyone, the last part to my Dark!Tommy series "Killing Me Softly". It has been a wild ride with lots of twists and turns, but like all things we've sadly come to the end. I want to thank every single one of you for your comments, reblogs and likes. I have been overwhelmed by the love and support you have all shown this series! I really can't thank you enough. I would love to hear your thoughts in the comments, if you liked the final chapter, if it finished the way you expected it to or even the way you wanted it to. Thank you to all of you once again, I couldn't have finished it without you!

Brummie xxx

PREVIOUS PART

Killing Me Softly (DARK!TOMMY/ PART TEN)

Summary: After the troubling discoveries you made the previous night in Tommy's office, everything finally comes to an end when you learn of one more sadistic act your husband made in his cruel crusade to make you love him.

Warnings: Language, toxic marriage, psychological abuse, controlling behaviour, manipulative behaviour, psychological mind games, Dark!Tommy ( This is a dark fic, please read the warnings before continuing)

" Phenobarbital, fuck where is it?" you mumbled under your breath as you sat on the sofa, frantically searching through a dictionary you had found in the study the next morning, your head turning to the door every other minute afraid your husband would walk in.

Rubbing your forehead you brought your fingers to the space between your brow, pinching the skin as exhaustion started to take over. You hadn't slept last night and had been throwing up on and off all morning. The strain pulling behind your eyes from searching through countless books for the past hour had started to give you a thumping headache, you were drained, desperate to close your eyes and sleep. Trying to relieve some of the tension throbbing against your head, you massaged one of the sides of your temple as you continued to look through the book resting on your lap. Turning the next page your eyes scanned down the text until finally, you found it " Phenobarbital from the barbiturates family. A white crystalline powder often used by patients suffering from epilepsy. Also used in small amounts to subdue those suffering with anxiety and sleep deprivation in the form of a sedative" Sedative...there it was again. Your mother didn't suffer from epilepsy and neither had sleep or anxiety problems. He was having her sedated, but why? Had she angered him? Had he grown tired of paying for her care? Or was it simply another way to get back at you? Running your hands through your hair, fear and panic started to quickly rise within you, your stomach turning at his unforgivable actions. You was scared for your mother, not only for her ongoing care but now for her life. He had played you again, fooled you one last time. If you was ever going to escape this marriage you would have to play along until you found a way out, if there even was one.

"Y/N, what are you doing in here?" You heard your husband say walking into the room. Quickly shutting the book you pushed it under the cushions beside you as you reached for the newspaper in front of you.

" Just reading" you said looking up at him as he sat down next to you, pressing a kiss to your cheek.

"Reading?" he cocked an eyebrow as he took the paper from you." Daily Mails business column" he said clearing his throat as he read the page." Y/N you can barely fucking spell, yet you're reading this" he scoffed throwing it on the coffee table in front of him. Turning your head away you brought your fingers up to your mouth as tears threatened to escape, his childish dig at you striking deeper than you thought it would. Already in a heighten state of emotions you felt that you was on the verge of breaking at any given moment. All you desperately wanted was for someone to comfort you and and take you away from the hellish nightmare you was living. Yet here you was, stuck with a man crueler than the Devil himself, all hope within you being crushed with every word he spoke.

" I've made an appointment for you" he said as he turned to face you lighting a cigarette. " A doctor downtown" he finished leaning into the sofa, his thumb brushing down the back of your neck." You listening to me?"

" Hm?..oh, yes. A doctor. Why would I need a doctor?" you questioned pulling yourself away from your worries, your fingers digging into the soft fabric of the sofa as you looked up into his insistent stare. It took every part of you to hold back the questions burning within you, the revelations you had learnt last night forming a knot in your already uneasy stomach.

" Why would you need a doctor?" He repeated as he lent forward tapping the ash from his cigarette into the glass tray in front of him. " Well darling, i think you might have come down with something. Heard you throwing up most of the morning. Now what could possibly cause that, hm?" he asked, taunting you, waiting for you to crack and tell him what he already believed he knew.

" I'm fine Tommy it must have been the champagne from last night" you dismissed unable to look at him as your eyes fixated on your fingers playing nervously with the hem of your dress.

"We're going Y/N. Tomorrow at noon" he said taking your chin with his thumb, lifting your head to face him.

" We? Tommy..."

" Yes we, you're my wife. I'll be in the room with you, that's not a problem is it? It's not like I haven't seen everything already" He said as his eyes quickly darted down to your stomach then back to you. Shaking your head you brought your hands into your lap, as you mentally tried to figure out how to get out of your now impending appointment.

"Good" he said as he let go of your chin. " I'm going out, I won't be long. Some men will be arriving soon to do some work around the property" he told you as he stubbed his cigarette out.

" What work?" You questioned as you watched him stand up, straightening out his waist coat.

" Fencing for around the house, and a new gate. A big one" he said as a small chuckle left his lips. "You should rest darling, your little late night reading session looks like it's warn you out" he advised as he bent down placing his hand firmly to the back of you neck, pressing his lips to yours as his tongue brushed into your mouth. " Oh sweetheart, you really do get me going" he laughed darkly as he looked down at his trousers, sending you a wink. " Ta-ra!" he said as he strolled out the room with his hands in his pockets, leaving you in a state of worry and confusion at his sly comments and clear change in behaviour. Had you angered him?

For the better part of an hour you had been walking aimlessly around the property, one of Tommy's henchman back surveying you, his eyes never leaving you. Leaning against the cold stone of your home Arrow House you nervously bit your nails as you watched the workmen Tommy had hired to build the fencing around the house stack bricks on the ground. In less than twenty- four hours everything had dramatically changed, Tommy's calm loving temperament along with it. Did he know you had found out what he had been doing, what he had been doing to your mother? Or had he discovered that you was carrying his child? As you watched one of the large metal gates being lifted, one or both of the questions you had been mulling over had to be the answer to his sudden change in demeanor, why else would he be doing this. It was now a race to see which one of you was going to break first, which one of you was going to confront the other.

"Harry!" you shouted as you watched the stable boy walk into the barn in the corner of your eye. Jogging over to him you held your coat around your chest from the cool autumn breeze, Tommy's man watching your every move. "Harry?" you said again as you entered the barn when he quickly turned around taking his flat cap off.

"Mrs Shelby" he replied glancing up quickly only for his eyes to dart back to the hay he was breaking up in front of him.

" How are you?" You questioned, seeing the hestiation in him to even look your way. Walking over you tried to catch his line of sight as he continued busying himself, ignoring your attempts to talk with him. " Harry, is everything ok?"

" Oh yes Mam, very well. Mr Shelby wants me to clean the stables out, lots to do" he said as he picked up a handful of hay placing it in a large tin bucket.

" I can see that" you replied with a chuckle as you looked around the barn. " What's this?" You said as you picked up a strange looking black barell on top of a stack of hay.

" Don't know Mam, found it as I was mucking out. Looks like part of a gun" Harry said as he walked over to Tommy's stallion.

"It does doesn't it" you replied as you furrowed your brow, turning the object around in your hand. "Oh please, let me help" you said putting the unusual find back down without giving it a second thought as you walked over to Harry feeding Tommy's horse.

" Can I ?" You said as you put your hand out for the bucket, which harry handed over with a small smile quickly returning to his other jobs.

" Hello you" you said as you stroked down the stallion's mane. He was a beautiful horse with the most hypnotizing eyes you had ever seen. He had gained quite the reputation among the people working at Arrow House. His temperament was unpredictable, the only person he would let ride him was Tommy. Reaching into the bucket you pulled out a handful of hay, stroking his neck as you fed him.

" Fuck, he bit me!" you said as you pulled your hand away, staring back into the darkness of his eyes as he flared his nostrils at you.

" Mrs Shelby!" Harry said, dropping the broom he had been using to sweep the floor as he hurried over to you.

" It's alright Harry, he didn't draw blood" you said as you looked back at Tommy's horse staring at you, his eyes as dark as coal.

"I'm sorry Mam, he's been acting up all morning. I should've warned you" the young stable boy said as you turned to face him.

"Maybe he misses my mare" you told him, trying to ease the worry in his eyes " But nothing could be done, she was lame the poor thing" you said as you looked over to her empty stall.

"Lame? She wasn't la.." Harry started to say until the voice of your husband interrupted him.

" Darling, there you are" Tommy said entering the barn, as your eyes widened at the words you was sure the stable boy was about to say. " What happened there?" Tommy said approaching you, a cigarette hanging between his lips as he took your injured hand into his.

" Your horse bit me" you said bluntly pulling away from his hold, tears welling in your eyes at the latest exposed truth in Tommy's cruel unstoppable mission to torment you.

" Well did you upset him?" Tommy chuckled as he stroked down his horse, whispering words into his ear.

" Fuck off Tommy..." you said pushing past him, cradling your hand as you glanced one last time at the black barell still sitting on the side, a gesture that didn't go unnoticed by your husband.

"What did you just say, eh?!" Tommy shouted as he stormed out the barn grabbing the object Harry had found, placing it in his coat pocket. " Hey! What the fucks a matter with you?" Tommy said as he caught up to you, taking you by your wrist.

" You killed my horse!" you said turning around, pushing him away from you.

" Fucking hell" Tommy muttered under his breath. " Darling, we've already gone through this. Yes, I shot her, she was lame"

" She wasn't though, was she Tommy? Is that what you do? Drug and kill when something becomes an inconvenience to you?" you shouted letting the information you had learnt slip out as Tommy tilted his head in response. You had read more than his black book, he quickly thought to himself. "You're a bastard " You said bringing your hand up to slap him, when he grabbed you by your arm.

" I wouldn't do that if I was you darling. You're In no place to judge me. Not with the news I received last night. You want to tell me about it or shall I just wait until I get confirmation tomorrow hm?"

" Don't know what you're talking about Tommy, didn't see it written down in that secret little book of yours. You're slipping!" you shouted back, refusing to answer his question, your own anger at his twisted behaviour boiling over.

" Tut tut tut, well haven't you been busy. Have you been going through my things sweetheart? Tommy said pulling you into him, his eyes piercing down at you.

"Tommy lad!" Arthur shouted out the car window, honking the horn as he and John pulled up beside you. Letting go of you Tommy stepped back, turning to face his brothers.

" I need whisky, and a lot of it after the bellowing I just got from Esme" John said as he got out the car walking over to you both.

" That makes two of us. Must be a full moon tonight brother" Tommy replied with a laugh as he looked back at you with a smirk whilst him and John walked into the house.

" Y/N love, come on" Arthur said putting his arm around your shoulder as you reluctantly followed them in. The last thing you wanted to do was endure a night of watching the three of them all drink themselves into oblivion, but once again it looked like you had no choice in the matter.

For the past two hours you had been sitting on the sofa begrudgingly listening to John and Arthur talk about all the various women they had been with and men they had killed, tallying them up to see which one of them had the most, the whisky clearly doing the talking for them when the conversation turned even more graphic in every sense. But Tommy...he was quiet, he had barely uttered a word the entire time. Instead he had been watching you, staring at you relentlessly as he sipped on his whisky. One sharp look to him had him scoffing at you as he shook his head, downing the rest of his liquor whilst he walked over to you. Just as you reached for a glass of whisky yourself Tommy grabbed it from your hand, throwing the alcohol into the fire next to him.

" I don't think so Y/N" he said looking down at you as your face reddened in embarrassment.

" Here, I'll make you a gin and tonic" John said as he stood up, nearly falling over, the warm lull of the whisky numbing his movements.

" Or just the tonic" Tommy sneered as he stared you down once more before walking away.

" I'm fine John, thanks" you said as you collected your hair to one side, bringing your knuckles up to your mouth as your elbow rested on the arm of the sofa. He knew, he had to. Why hadn't he confronted you?

" Right, everyone shut up and take a look at this" Arthur said as he pulled out a gun. " Brand new, never been shot, acquired under... illegitimate circumstances" he sniggered, holding it up for everyone to see.

" Bloody hell here he goes again, nobody cares about your new gun Arthur" John laughed as he leant back into his armchair looking up at the ceiling.

" Well I bloody care!" Arthur replied stubbornly as John continued to laugh." Y/N, take a look. Beautiful ain't it?" Arthur said as he walked over to you, presenting it like someone would their newborn child.

" Yeh, it's erh...nice Arthur" you replied smiling back to him.

" You ever held a gun before Y/N?"

"No" you shook your head as he held it out for you take.

" Go on, hold it, she won't bite" Arthur chuckled as Tommy and John watched on. " Heavier than you'd think ay?

" It is" you said, surprised by the weight of the cool piece of metal in your hand. "What does this do?" you asked as your thumb rested over a small lever at the top.

" Ooh, no no don't touch that" he laughed looking back to his brothers. " That's the safety, we don't want to shoot anyone's balls off tonight" he chuckled as he clicked it up and down showing you how it worked. " Hold it like this" Arthur motioned to you as your eyes quickly darted to Tommy leaning against the mantle of the fireplace, his chin lifted as his eyes narrowed in on you, watching your every move. "Good" he praised as he helped you up, turning you to look at yourself in the mirror hanging on the wall. " We'll soon make a Peaky out of you" Arthur laughed winking to you as he walked off in search of more whisky.

Lowering your hand you looked at your reflection in the mirror as Tommy walked behind you, wrrapping his hand around your stomach.

"Like this" your husband said, placing his hand over yours, moving your finger under the trigger as he raised it back up to both of your reflections.

" Bang" he said quietly in your ear, aiming the gun at your heart in the mirror as his thumb rubbed over your stomach. " You think you could take a life sweetheart?" he asked as he turned his head into your neck, his lips inches from your skin.

" If my own was in danger" you replied turning to face him, a tear falling down your face. He was scaring you, his questions leaving an unsettling feeling in your stomach.

" Your life's never been in danger darling" he said as he lowered the gun in your hand, his other coming up to brush the tear from your cheek.

" But everyone I have known or loves me life is" you replied as you freed your hand from under his. "Tommy why, why would you do that to my mother?" You quietly sobbed as you stared back at him, searching his eyes for an answer, the first to finally break.

"You're tired Y/N, you don't know what you're talking about. Come on let's go to bed" Tommy replied ignoring your questions as he took your hand.

" No. Stop treating me like a child Tommy, answer me. Everything was perfect, but you just couldn't stop yourself, why?" You asked as you pulled your hand away from him stepping back.

" We'll talk about it tomorrow? Now come on" he said taking back your hand as you resisted once more. " You're making a scene Y/N. Do you really want to do this in front of everyone?" He said through gritted teeth as he placed his palm on your lower back pushing you with him to the door as you shook your head in response, reluctantly following him. The last thing you wanted to do was anger him, you knew what would happen if you did, and with your mother being in a vulnurable situation you feared what he would do next. " We're going to bed" Tommy announced as he put Arthur's gun down on the coffee table, his brothers chuckling in resposne.

" Alright Tom boy. Nighty night, have fun" Arthur smiled as he pulled a black barell out his jacket attaching it to his gun.

" What's that?" You said stopping, pulling your hand from Tommy as you turned to face Arthur.

"Y/N, come on" Tommy insisted his grip on your back firmly pushing you forward.

" It's a silencer love, so our little...missions go unheard" Arthur replied as you was half-way out the door when you turned to look at Tommy, his eyes darting between you and Arthur as he cleared his throat. A silencer. It looked identical to the object Harry had found in the barn. Why would there be a silencer in the stables? Tommy's sudden uneasy behaviour had you quickly believing whatever the reason was it was to do with him.

Sitting at the small kitchen table the next morning you buried your head in you arms. Another restless night, two days of almost no sleep, you was barely able keep your head up. Not only was you worried for your mother you had this ongoing feeling in you stomach that something wasn't right. The way Tommy reacted last night when you saw Arthur's silencer had unsettled you. Looking up at the clock you realised you was only a few hours away from the appointment Tommy had made for you, one you knew you had know way of avoiding. Tommy would soon learn you had been keeping the news of your pregnancy from him. Would he go easy on you with his punishment, now you was carrying his child? A part of you already believed he knew your was pregnant, the small touches to your stomach his eyes lingering on your belly, the remarks he would make. What you didn't understand was why he hadn't said anything, what was he waiting for?

" Would you like some tea Mam, let me serve you a cup in the dinning room" Frances said as she walked into the kitchen with an armful of items.

" Oh, no thank you Frances, I quite like being in here watching you all" you said as you lifted your head, the busy noise from the kitchen calming your nerves.

" Mr Shelby will be waiting for you though"

" Let him wait" you said as you brushed your hair back from your face as she gave you a small smile, placing the items on the table in front of you.

" Frances...where did you find that?" You said as you reached your hand out to a small bottle she had placed on the counter.

" In the guest room Mam, I've only just got round to putting it away"

" Which guest room?" You questioned as you held the bottle in your hand, your leg bouncing up and down at the sudden surge of anxiety coursing through your limbs.

" The small one, where Mr Shelby slept when he was sick" she replied as she scrunched her brow at the tears now welling in your eyes, your head shaking in disbelief. The bottle was still sealed, Tommy never took the medicine the doctor prescribed him that night. He let himself get sick. The silencer, the medicine, the vague explanation he gave that night...it suddenly all made sense. He shot himself.

"Mam are you ok?" Frances asked as she reached her hand out to you when you abruptly stood up, bolting out the kitchen into the foyer. Your head was spinning, the sudden realisation of events churning your stomach as a crescendo of panic overwhelmed you. He shot himself, the sick bastard shot himself. He said he was coming back from the stables that night. The same stables where harry just so happened to find the strange black object as he was clearing out the barn, the object you now knew was a silencer made for a gun. He shot himself in almost the exact same place from a previous bullet wound. He knew he wouldn't die, he survived it once he would survive it again. As you tried to make sense of everything, the words Tommy left you with that night suddenly rang in your ears "You will learn to love me again". The man who would stop at nothing to keep you under his control, to keep you hoping for the boy he once was executed the most ultimate act of desperation for your love.

Running to the phone you frantically tried to form a clear sentence to the operator on the end of the line as you desperately asked her to put you through to Polly.

" Yes Miss Polly Gray, try Watery la..." You started to say when you felt a warm hand take the receiver from you, placing it back down onto the table.

" What are you doing love?" Tommy said, breathing against the back of your neck as you slowly turned around to face him, his eyes boring into you as he watched the tears fall down your face.

" Stay away from me, you fucking stay away from me!" you shouted at him as you walked backwards to the front door.

"Y/N" he warned you, unable to hold back the smirk forming on the corner of his mouth.

" You sick twisted bastard!" You screamed as your back hit the large wooden door.

" Now I know you didn't mean that " he replied pointing at you as he started walking slowly towards you. Turning around you fumbled to undo the lock, pushing it with force as your ran out the house down to the bottom of the path.

" Should we go after her?" one of Tommy's men said stood in the foyer.

" No leave her, she won't get far" Tommy replied as he lit a cigarette walking out the front door. " Come back inside darling, it's cold!" he shouted as he watched you run to the large gate at the end of the drive pushing it back and forth as you tried to open it. " It's locked sweetheart" he said as he approached behind you like you would a wild horse.

" Get away from!" You cried as you started walking along the fence in the hopes of finding an exit.

" Alright then, we'll go on a little walk eh?" Tommy chuckled as he caught up with you, reaching his hand out for you to take as if you was going on a romantic stroll through the countryside. Slapping it away you glared at him as he laughed in response, amused by the whole situation.

" Stay away from me Tommy. You're fucking insane! What kind of person shoots themselves for their wife's sympathy" you said as Tommy grabbed you by the arm spinning you around to face him.

" You're loosing it sweetheart if you've convinced yourself of that"

" You're not so clever Tommy, I figured it out. Harry found the silencer in the barn. You shot yourself that night and you didn't take the medicine the doctor prescribed. Why...because you couldn't stand the fact I hated you, so you forced me to take pity on you, to give you a second chance, forced me to feel something for you again. You seethed, pushing his hand away as you stormed off.

" Think you've been reading too many novels darling" Tommy chuckled as he caught up to you, standing in your path, mirroring your movements with each step you tried to make.

" Im so stupid, I can't believe I fell for it. Fell for your lies" you said coming to a stop, brushing the tears from your cheeks.

" Lies? I never lied that night Y/N, when I told you that you kept me alive, kept me going in France I meant it.

" So much that you've been following me for the past decade. You're a freak Tommy!" You said as you pushed past him.

"Yeh alright, I admit it. Guilty" he replied putting his hands up in a mock gesture as he jogged up to where you was again " You did something to me in France, put a spell on me, bewitched me" he said with a smirk on his face as you scoffed at the ridiculous excuse for his madness.

" And my mother Tommy, what did she do to deserve your cruelness?"

" Your mother is fucking crazy, maybe it's genetic" he replied looking at you from head to toe, insinuating you was also" Your dear mother was being sedated because she was pissing everyone off, trying to escape the facility she was in, causing hell for all the doctors and nurses. But that's no longer a problem. She saw a new doctor you see, one found by me. She's been declared clinically insane, now she will spend the rest of her days locked up in the local madhouse." he viciously stated, knowing how much the news would anger you.

Grabbing the gun from his holster you pushed him away as you raised it to his face, your whole body shaking as tears blurred your vision. Chuckling, Tommy threw his cigarette on the ground, stubbing it out with his boot.

" You've got more attempted murders than me" Tommy laughed as he walked over to you, not caring you had a gun pointing straight at him. "Now give me the gun, we both know you're not gonna do anything"

" No!" You said pulling down the safety like Arthur had shown you, the expression on Tommy's face suddenly changing.

"What? You gonna shoot the father of that baby growing inside you" he said as he gestured to your stomach. " You're not so innocent Y/N are you, hm? Was quite the shock I had when one of my men told me you had visited that old hag in London. Was you going to get rid of my child eh, my fucking child?!"

" I...no Tommy" you cried, feeling the barrier of the gun protecting you suddenly evaporating as you unconsciously lowered the pistol in your hand, your secret now spoken, exposed.

" You thought about it though. See, I was waiting for confirmation from a doctor since you wouldn't tell me yourself, but you just did that for me didn't you? Now what you're gonna do right.." he said as he pointed his finger at you, his face reddened by anger. "Is give me that gun. Then we'll go home and talk about this like adults" he ordered as he stepped forward.

" No!" You screamed back as you raised the pistol in your hand once more. " You've ruined my Life, you've taken away everyone i love and care about. I won't let you ruin this child's life as well! You cried as you stood your ground your whole body trembling as a surge of adrenaline rushed through you.

" Give me the fucking gun Y/N! " Tommy shouted as he stormed over to you. " Now!"

It happened so quickly, you didn't think twice about doing it, you weren't even sure you thought at all when your finger pressed down on the trigger sitting beneath your skin. With your eyes firmly shut you listened to the last echos of the gunshot fade around you, the distant sound of autumn leaves blowing in the wind, and then silence total silence as if for a brief moment the world stood still and watched as everything played out. Lowering the gun, a wave of relief left your body as you stood there, the chilled breeze of winter approaching cooling the anger within you. Peace had finally descended on the grounds of Arrow house, or had it?

" You missed..." you heard through the crisp country air, your eyes darting open to see your husband standing in front of you, staring you down. Dropping the gun in your hand you collapsed onto the ground below you in tears as you watched him charge towards you, pulling you up from the grass. " Anyone could have made that shot" he said as he grabbed your head between his hands. " Yet you missed, you missed! See, you love me Y/N. I knew you fucking loved me!" he said reasoning with his own madness, pressing his lips to yours, his hands wrapped tightly around you, the only thing holding you up as the life drained from you.

" Fuck.." he said letting go, sighing as all the anger he was holding in left him. " We're made for eachother Y/N. You and me. It was always meant to be" he said cupping your cheeks once again, as you nodded, crying tears you no longer thought you had left, giving in, no more strength left to tell him otherwise. Pressing his forehead to yours Tommy brought his hand down to your stomach, rubbing his thumb over the small swell under your dress.

" When this one is born, I'll put another in you then another until that whole house is filled" He smiled unnervingly as his eyes darted back to Arrow House in the distant. " You and me yeh, our own little family"

" Tommy, I..I want to go home" you said as you looked up at him your eyes pleading one last time to be free of him.

" This is your home sweetheart. You belong with me you've always belonged to me" he said pressing your head in his hands his eyes inches from yours. " I will never let you leave, never. You're mine Y/N"

He will never let you go. He will hunt you down and live forever through you...the words you heard all those months ago would now cruelly haunt you until your last breath. It was over, your childhood love was gone, there was nothing left of you. You were shackled to him for the rest of your life, bearing his children so his legacy could live on. The game had come to an end, the ultimate prize won. He had played by his own rules for so long there was only ever going to be one outcome. An unchangeable fate had been sealed from the very moment you had met, it was always going to end this way. For you and everyone else knew, Tommy Shelby always wins, always.

The end.

Tag list: @litteltourtius (unable to tag) @aesthetic0cherryblossom @swordofawriter @casa-boiardi @muhahaha303 @fmo166 @call-sign-shark @priyajoyy @gypsy-girl-08 @missbeeentertainment @cryptidscool (unable to tag) @warrior-of-justice @runnning-outof-time @camilleholland89 @amberpanda99 @scarwxrld @pleasant-meadow @fleurfatale89 (unable to tag) @strnqer @hope4rain19

[sspadfoot]

Saw someone do this so I had to but in another way

What English city would the Marauders be from?

Sirius and Regulus: London. No one can change my mind. They would live in zone 1 in front of the Big Ben.

James: London. Also zone 1 but maybe next to Hyde Park.

Remus: MANCHESTER. He would be from Manny and have such a heavy manc accent. He would also support United to piss off James. I don’t make the rules

Peter: Birmingham. Can’t imagine him from anywhere else. He would have a good old brummy accent and everyone would hate it.

Marlene: LIVERPOOL. She would have a really heavy accent which everyone mocks but she is definitely from there.

Lily: York. She just gives off vibes and her accent was also really strong.

Mary: Birmingham. Had to do it. She definitely is one of the chavs I’m sorry.

Dorcas: Newcastle. HER ACCENT WOULD BE SO SATISFYING. She is definitely from there.

Barty: Nottingham. It’s weird but he gives me vibes so much

Evan and Pandora: Oxford. It’s such a pretty place and they suit the vibes so hard.