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padfootdaredmetoo · 2 years

Note

Hi! I’m sorry for rambling once again!!

Can I please request a Dad!Tommy Shelby x Daughter!reader (Y/n has genius level intelligence) where she’s a 15 year old orphan who’s all on her own (she used to be in an orphanage but had run away a few years back) and she needs to make money to survive, so she lies about her age in order to be a maid for Tommy Shelby (Idk why, I just feel like Tommy would only want to hire adults to be maids) but he ends up finding out her age, brings her into his office to fire her (and lowkey interrogate her). She pleads with him to let her still work for him as she has nowhere to go and doesn’t want to be in an orphanage, but Tommy lets her stay (taking her in as his own) but with some rules. Instead of letting her work for him he says that if she stays, she has to go to school (I’m sure he’d enroll her in a prestigious school due to his money and her intelligence). I feel like she’d try to argue against this but Tommy would point out that he has noticed her intelligence as his own men (ones working in accounting) have come to her for help for things they don’t understand. I feel like he’d adopt her immediately but it’d take a bit for them to bond, but they do and she at some point calls him “Dad” (maybe at a family meeting or dinner??)🥺🥺

Second part of request:

OMG ALSO!! Just imagine how soft the Shelby family would be for Y/n🥺🥺🥺 Like imagine her being the only one who can make Tommy smile, the only one who can calm Arthur’s anger, the one who can help anchor John, and the one who can help calm down Finn from being out of control 🥺🥺🥺 PLZ TOMMY WOULD BE THE BEST DAD AND ARTHUR, JOHN, AND FINN WOULD BE THE BEST UNCLES AND POLLY WOULD BE THE BEST AUNT (technically great aunt)😭😭😭 It’d be like a flip of a switch, Y/n walks into the room and suddenly they’re all soft whereas right before they were all angry and yelling🥺

___________

ASDFGHJKL

I loved writing this. I really hope you enjoy it. It's messy but it came from my heart.

Warnings: reader gets assaulted and mentions of beatings *Nothing descriptive* Nightmares, there is a spider at one point. LOTS OF FLUFF this is just one big fluff. Lots of hurt / comfort. This might be out of character but I have daddy issues and man I went all out on this. I need a drink and a hug.

You’d landed yourself in the dirtiest orphanage in Birmingham by the time you were 9. You’d managed on the streets for a few blissful years before getting noticed by a lady in the neighborhood you were staying in. When you labeled it as blissful, it was only in comparison to this hellhole you were currently stuck in.

It was a warmer August night when you’d finally had enough. You were 14 and the janitor had wanted to get handsy with you. You’d managed, with a whole lot of effort, to escape him but it was very clear that it was only the start to a large amount of harassment that was going to come down on you from the older boys and staff alike. As if the regular beatings were not enough.

This time you’d managed to actually escape, kissing the small children you’d often cared for on the head. Lucky for you most of the girls were older now and would be able to take your place easily.

The next morning you were walking down the busy streets of Birmingham, trying to think of what to do with your life. You were very smart, but lacking in experience.

Suddenly you saw two women arguing about a cursed job.

“I don't care if it's that much money, the Shelby's are cursed and anyone who’d apply there is a sinner!” The woman crumpled the ad tossing it into the garden bush on the other side of the steps.

You’d waited till no one was looking before snatching it up.

And that is how you ended up a maid at Shelby House.

Months passed and soon you’d taken on most of the responsibilities. You were terrified of being fired so you’d put in longer hours, and worked harder than the rest of the maids. Something that had created a bit of tension.

It was December and there was a full calendar of Christmas events on the way, so you’d been helping the cook manage the orders and handling the payments. On occasion the Accountant would appear with problems that you would sort out swiftly.

On the morning of the biggest event you’d run into one of the maids that usually went by Sarah.

“Look Y/N You've been taking on so much that me and the other maids think you’ve earned your name tag.” She said with a cigarette hanging from her lipstick painted lips.

“Thank you” You said slightly uneasily. You were hopeful that maybe the Christmas season was enough for them to try and be kinder towards you. She smiled and gave you an awkward one armed hug.

You stood there for a moment slightly stunned watching her scurry away from the staff table. You couldn't remember the last time someone hugged you. Some of the other kids would hold on to you when they were afraid, but no grown person had ever embraced you before.

You didn't particularly enjoy the experience but it was a nice gesture regardless. Maybe you could fit in with the other girls now, be a part of the makeshift work family.

You got your long hair pinned back into place and changed into a clean apron. You kept a brisk pace walking through the halls checking over the decorations, then into the dining room to straighten some of the flowers. The dining room was on the cold side regardless of what you did to fix it, you hoped that the guests would drink enough not to notice. After another once over of the rooms and entryway you were happy with the state of things.

Not to look idle you went back to the kitchen to help there, the guests shouldn't be arriving for another half hour.

The cook was an older plump man that had taken a shine to you quite quickly. You’d had to cook at the orphanage so if you’d nothing else to do you’d often jump into the prep line and help out.

After getting to know you a little he would have you stand on a stool and ask you about the things you would read. You stepped up on the small stool next to the stove looking over the busy kitchen.

“Anything I can help with?” You looked at his red face as he let out a laugh. He handed you a lit cigarette and a muffin.

“Stand still and eat something for god sake.” He turned around and shouted orders at someone then turned back to stirring the large pot of sauce.

You puffed on the cigarette and started in on the muffin as he gave you all the gossip and complaints.

“I’ll tell you this lass, I haven't ever seen so much disorganization in my long life. No wonder you work yourself half to death.”

You let out a little laugh.

“I just don't want to be sent home”

“Husband trouble you?” There was a softness in his eyes, and your nose crinkled at the thought of marriage.

“No, not married yet.”

“Ah love, it will come along sooner or later. You still look like a spring chick, that will work in your favour.”

You shook off the complement and jumped when the heavy kitchen door suddenly slammed open. John Shelby locked eyes with you standing there with a muffin and cigarette in your hands. You watched him look you over then his face twisted up in disgust.

Your heart was hammering, clearly you were in deep shit despite having everything already done. You never took breaks, your mind started to spin arguments in your mind as to why you shouldn't be in trouble.

“You! I need a bunch of fucking towels in the stables.” He pointed to one of the boys cleaning up the counters. “And you! Need to go straight to Tommy’s office.” He gave you another hard look.

Unsure of what to do you nodded and hurried out of the room leaving your muffin and cigarette abandoned on the counter.

You knocked on the door to the study and realised that your hands were shaking.

“Come in” Thomas Shelby’s calm voice called out. You went into the study to find him pouring over a pile of papers. He looked up at you with a confused look, his sharp eyes looking you over from behind his glasses.

“What's happened?” He looked slightly concerned and you pushed your brain to get the words out.

“Mr. J-John Sh-shelby asked me to go here. Sir I took a break but I made sure everything was in order and I was having a smoke before all the - the guests got here. I-I-I’m really sorry and I promise I won't do it again. I can stay on later tonight to make up for it -”

“Sit down for a moment” He cut you off and gestured to the chair across from the desk looking quite confused and slightly put out.

“John told you to come here but didn't give you a reason?”

“Yes”

“And you think it's because you took a break”

“Yes”

He studied you while rolling a cigarette on his bottom lip. Before he got his next question out the door shot open and John came through and shut the door.

“I’ve accepted that we are not good men. By any fucking stretch of the imagination. But this is too fucking far Thomas. I won't have it.”

“Wont have what?” Thomas asked with an Icy tone, you could tell he’d have enough of the situation.

“I’m sorry for whatever I did wrong” You tried not to burst into tears but it was too late, they were falling down your red cheeks.

“Thomas she can't be older than 17. And that's being generous. It’s fucking disgusting” John sounded like he was pleading. Thomas looked over you and you could see in his eyes that he’d found what he was looking for finally.

“Who gave you a name tag love?” He asked in a softer tone, handing you a handkerchief.

“S-S-Sarah said I’d earned it. I know I’m too young to be here but I work harder than anyone else, I do all the bedrooms and bathrooms, I’ve taken on the kitchen ordering and inventory, and I run the money in the evenings - I - I - Please - I can't go home” You were terrified and hated that it was radiating off.

“It’s alright, love. You’re not in trouble.” You took a deep breath and tried to calm down. “John, go handle everything, I'll sort this.” You watched him hesitate then nod leaving the office.

You didn't particularly like the idea of being left alone here with him. A shiver ran up your spine.

“How old are you?”

“17” you tried to sound confident.

“Try again” He said sternly, eyes narrowing slightly.

“15, I just turned 15 in November.” Shame was tearing through you and you couldn't bring yourself to meet his icy blue eyes.

“Why aren't you in school?”

“My parents died and I won't go back to the orphanage. Look sir, I’m good at my job and I'll work whatever hours you want. You can half my wage, fuck don't pay me at all just please don't send me back there.”

“Bad things happened at the orphanage?” You couldn't manage anything more than a curt nod, tears starting to well up. “Fuck” He muttered under his breath.

“Look everyone tells me that you do an excellent job. Jacob speaks especially highly of you, says you’re smart enough for university. I won’t have you work for me, but I won't throw you out either.” He let out a sigh. “ Look, just go to your bed and stay there till the party's over. We can sort something out.”

“Thank you” You stood up but before you could move away from the desk he called out to you.

“Wait! Give me the name tag, love.” You un pinned it and dropped into his open hand, as if sensing your curiosity he answered your unspoken question. “Only the maids that want to whore themselves with the guests wear name tags.”

Horror stretched across your face and you watched the pity mixed with amusement dance across his face.

“That bitch” You whispered not realising you’d said it out loud till you heard him let out a low chuckle. “Sorry!” you clapped a hand over your mouth.

“Just go to bed, alright. We can talk after the party.”

“Yes sir, thank you.” You hurried out of the study and all but ran back to your bed in the shared staff area. You flopped down and looked up at the ceiling waiting for the difficult conversation that awaited you.

_____

There was a knock at the door and Elizabeth Grey poked her head in. Spotting you sitting up on your bed she floated over shutting the door softly behind her.

“I’m Polly, I don’t think we’ve properly met.”

“I’m Y/N L/M, Its nice to meet you.” You smiled and held your hand out to shake. She looked you over and let out a sigh.

“The boys filled me in on everything before the party. It seems everyone in house knows about you but us.” She gave you a searching look. “The accounting is done in your hand writing, the signatures on everything that goes in and out of the place are all yours.” She lit a cigarette.

“I just wanted to be helpful. I don't sleep often so it wasn't a trouble to help manage things.”

“And you know about the sorts of things that go on in this house? This family?”

“Apparently not all of them.” Your face flushed when you thought back to the name tag incident. “But I have an idea about most of it. I helped dig holes for some of the bodies with Johnny Dogs a few times-” You were about to continue to the funny part but you stopped when her face twisted up.

“None of that bothers you?”

“No. Especially not as much as the orphanage or the streets” You shrugged your shoulders.

“You're good with numbers and you sneak into the library at night. The cook said you were too smart to be here.”

“He’s a big softy, he’s just being nice.”

“People aren't nice unless they have a reason to be. In this case it looked more like he was being honest.”

You didn't know what to say so you shrugged again.

“I have to take you down to Tommy now, but before we go, what happened at the orphanage?”

You struggled for words but knew the longer you dragged it out the longer you’d keep Thomas waiting.

“A man… but I got away.” There was a burning fire in her eyes but it didn't reach her empathetic features.

“Well that won't be happening again. If you need to talk about it call me.”

“Yes mam”

“Call me Polly, love.”

“Thank you, Polly” You corrected and she ushered you through the halls into the study. She gestured for you to sit so you did. Tommy ended a phone call and then lit a cigarette.

“Alright?” He asked Polly.

“Alright.” She answered back. There was a long tense movement.

“You can stay here, I’ll sort out one of the rooms upstairs. But there are some terms on your stay here.”

“Anything.” You responded unable to believe your luck. Polly swatted your arm.

“You need to learn better negotiation skills. Never give a man “anything”” She stated coldly.

“Sorry” You said softly.

“Ah! Your going to be considered a Shelby now and we don't apologize”

“Poll, give it a rest, eh? I’m not going to hurt her and she’s got lots of time to figure things out.”

She nodded and Thomas looked back at you. You got the idea that horrible things had happened to Polly, you were sad for her but also grateful that she seemed to care for you.

“Alright terms and conditions. You will go to school, the headmaster at the closest private academy will take you in once winter break ends. Till then we will make sure you're up to the grade standard for your age. You are not to miss classes and are expected to be home for dinner. Homework is to be done at the dinner table.” He looked stern which was the only thing keeping you from thinking this was a joke.

“That’s it?” You asked as tears started to pool again. “You just want me to study. No chores? Or - or anything? Just kid stuff?” The words were fumbled as your throat got tight with emotion.

“You are a kid. Should only be doing kid stuff.” His words made you think back to helping push that body into a hole in the woods behind the house.

“I can do kid stuff then.”

“Good. That being said, no boys, ever. And if anyone so much as upsets you, you come right to me.”

You nodded at him still in shock over everything.

“Alright well now that’s settled. I’ll be on my way.” Polly announced. “You need anything, call me, I’ll be by tomorrow after breakfast with some things for you.”

“Oh, uh here I have money saved up.”

“Keep your money, love.” They both answered in unison. You walked Polly to the front door and she gave you a hug good night. This hug was different from Sarah's.

Thomas took you upstairs and gave you the room across from the master. It was a room with a beautiful balcony that looked out into the woods. It was decorated with a soft light blue theme and a large bed with a canopy. Ensuite bathroom and large closet, book shelves stood tall on either side of the fireplace.

“This should be comfortable, yeah?”

“Yes” You choked out. Comfortable was not the word you would use.

“There’s a nightgown in the bathroom for you and I’m across the hall if you need anything.”

“Thank you. I - I - Just - Thank you” You didn't know how to express how much all of this meant to you.

“Think nothing of it, love. Sleep well.”

“You as well”

He left the room and shut the door softly. You couldn't help yourself and immediately flopped down onto the bed.

You showered in your own bathtub, one that you had cleaned earlier that week. Put on a silk nightgown that had flowers embroidered by hand. Looking in the mirror you hardly recognized yourself.

Getting into bed was nice till you turned out the lamp and realised you’d never slept in a room alone before. Normally you rarely slept but this time you drifted off into a deep sleep.

You woke to the lights coming on causing you to sit up. Realizing your heart was racing and you were covered in sweat. Thomas came through the door. “Nightmare?”

“Yes”

He disappeared for a moment then came back to the door way.

“You want company?”

“Sure?”

He came through with a book and a glass of whiskey.

That was the start of many late night visits, Tommy was the only person you’d met who slept as much as you did.

You would read allowed till he’d fall asleep. Other times you’d talk. He surprised you, knowing more about how you felt than you had realised. Tommy wasn't from riches either, he knew what the streets were like.

He worried for you a lot, something that never stopped amazing you. Polly thought he was too hard on you, but It was small things, occasional looks or always making sure you were okay, asking if you were comfortable, stuff that everyone missed.

He had a tutor come through to assess you not wanting to send you to classes if you were far behind. Turns out you were much much further ahead than people could have imagined.

Late nights in the library at the orphanage and here seemed to pay off. You were technically ready for post secondary by the examination results.

Tommy read them over and smiled. He rarely ever smiled, for a second white hot thoughts raced through your mind that maybe he was happy that he could send you away to school. Thinking about being at school with adults made you feel sick. After two weeks you were finally comfortable here with him, losing that would be the equivalent of losing everything that mattered in your life. He should have meant danger, but all he provided you with was safety and warmth.

“So to school next term then, eh?” He looked at you warmly across his cluttered desk.

“I don't want to go away to university.” Your face was blank and you couldn't manage more than a whisper. Suddenly you felt quite faint. He was around the desk pushing you into one of the leather chairs.

“Hey, look at me. I’m here. Breathe.” He gripped your arms tightly. Kneeling on the floor in front of you. “Come back, It’s alright you're home.” You finally opened your eyes and took a deep breath. “That's it, love”

You leaned forward and hugged him the best you could with the angle. You thought it would be awkward but his arms wrapped around you tightly.

“You’re a Shelby now, eh? No one is taking you away, alright?”

“Alright.” You whispered. He gave you a final squeeze then pulled away.

“Now the high school school is a 15 minute drive from here, someone will drop you and pick you up everyday. You won't be far.” He leaned against his desk and lit a cigarette.

You nodded and wiped your cheeks.

“There’s a family meeting at the betting shop, be ready to go by the door by 10:30. You have an outing planned after” He said in a tone like he was talking about the rain coming down outside. Not like he’d invited you to the family circle for the first time.

___

You followed him up the steps into the betting shop and watched as the family observed you trailing in behind him. You shut the door and moved to stand between him and Polly.

“Y/N Will be sitting in on meetings now. She’s officially standing in as one of mine now. Finn keep your eyes off of her. Linda she is not a spy, and Esme you can talk with her after the meeting. Any other questions?” He looked around the room and you cursed yourself for blushing at the attention.

“Excellent, let's get down to it.”

There was a lot of interesting things discussed at the meeting. You realised that most of the issues were like strategy puzzles, so you had lots of ideas that people helped build upon. A few of them were scoffed at, and you may have snapped at Michael that he should pick up the Art of War on his way home. But other than that you seemed to be a success and were welcomed in.

Esme wanted to take you out shopping afterwards to get you sorted for school. By the end of the trip you were almost positively in love with her. She had a different kind of warmth about her than the rest of the family. If her arm wasn't looped in yours it was because she was holding your hand. She made you try on different dresses, finally got you properly fitted undergarments. You liked her style, often bringing you soft cotton fabrics with simple or earthy designs.

You felt nervous about the cost of everything but she insisted you needed it all. Going up to the counter you almost collapsed seeing how much each item cost. She’d gotten you a proper winter and spring wardrobe, Pj's, toiletries, perfume, school books, the whole freaking lot. You didn't even know how you were going to get it all home let alone pay for it. When it all totaled up your stomach flipped, but she’d told the woman to put in on Thomas Shelby’s tab and suddenly everything was going to be delivered to the house before sunset.

Esme pulled you out of the store after thanking the woman. You walked along the street next to her in shock. She dragged you into a flat going up the steps you heard kids playing.

“This is home! Well the old home, we live closer to you now but we are staying here for the week to help with the business plans.” she said while leading you into the kitchen. She made tea then Polly came through.

“There you two are, thought you’d made a run for it!” Polly said with a smile.

“We had lots of things to work on but she’s settled now!”

They sat down and questioned you about living with Tommy. Offers to come and stay with either of them poured out but you insisted that he was good to you.

Tommy came up the steps midway through one of Polly’s stories that had you laughing so hard your ribs hurt.

“Time to go, love” He announced from the doorway once the story had ended. Esme handed you a piece of paper under the edge of the table and winked at you.

“Thank you both for everything today, really I don't know how to say it enough. I had so much fun.”

“Come off it! You're one of us now. We will come by tomorrow for tea and see all you try on all your dresses, eh?”

“Yes please!” You hugged them both then followed Tommy down to the car.

_____

Modeling dresses was a funnier experience than you thought it would be. You were afraid to be looked at but at least they were family. You knew that they were doing this to try and make you feel welcomed. Polly helped you in the bathroom showing you how to dress and layer things properly. You showed them your everyday stuff but then it was time for the fancier stuff. You tried on a red one that Esme had insisted on you getting. It was a tighter fit, and you had no idea what you would wear it to, but you also wouldn't be tucked away in the kitchen for parties anymore.

You came out and Polly let out a loud wolf whistle.

“Look at you! Going to have to fight the boys off.” Esme called out with a laugh.

“Do a twirl for us love” Polly said. Tommy came through the door to see what the fuss was about. You watched him suddenly look distressed causing you to feel a panic in your stomach.

“Absolutely not.” He called out sternly. You locked eyes with him and immediately dashed into the bedroom to change, not understanding what was wrong with the outfit. There was quite a commotion outside Polly had started up and Esme couldn't stop laughing. There was a knock at the door and you opened it.

“Not the red one love. Not until you're 60, and all the men have been wiped off the planet. Then you can wear the red one.”

“I don't look right in it?” Your heart sank.

“There aren't enough bullets in the world to keep people away from you in that dress. In my opinion it's not the attention you need. Ever. Or at least till you're 60.” He looked like the conversation pained him.

“So no boys till I'm 60?” Your eyebrows knitted together.

“At least”

You let out a defeated sigh and he left to let you change. There was further harassment being doled out on the other side. You knew it was your choice to wear the dress if you wanted to, but you still thought his need to protect you was nice.

____

Boys didn't matter in the end, even your male teachers were afraid of you. Tommy had your last name changed and you learned very quickly that it was a title that came with a lot of respect.

School was too easy, so you spent almost all of your time with the family.

You learned quickly that Arthur had a temper, you’d gone down to the yard to meet with Charlie to bring him a package from Tommy when you saw Arthur starting to lay into someone.

“Fuck someone needs to stop him.” Charlie had muttered out loud. Naturally you figured he meant you so you walked up in between the two men and tugged on his sleeve. His fiery eyes softened when he saw it was you. He leaned down and you whispered up to him that he should stop now. That he didn't need to be that angry, everyone was safe and we could deal with that guy later.

“Excuse us” Arthur said and cleared his throat. The man moved away and briskly fucked off out of the yard. You patted him on the shoulder.

“It’s alright” You said and he took a few moments but he came down eventually.

Tommy all but screamed his head off at you later on. How were you to know that he was yelling at another rival gang leader, you certainly did not see the other men with their guns out. You’d just seen Arthur upset and wanted to help him.

You burst into tears and ran up to your room. The silence only lasted ten minutes before Tommy had come up to your room pulling you into a tight hug. Suddenly you realised he wasn't mad at you but afraid of losing you. A pain bloomed in your chest and for the rest of the night you felt the need to be close to him. You did your homework and extra reading at his desk that night and for once he didn't complain about you shoving the papers aside to make space.

____

John was a lot of fun to be around, he could be prickly at times but you were sharp enough to call him out on bad ideas before they’d happen. He and Esme were loud and funny, you were always trying to make them laugh and enjoyed the feeling when they did.

He’d let you tag along to The Garrison one night after exams had passed. He gave you a whiskey as a celebration, which turned into a few whiskeys before the night was out and you stumbled home with them. Esme tossed you a blanket for the couch and you drifted off into a warm sleep. Tommy showed up the next morning looking like he was going to send someone to their grave so you closed your eyes and pretended to still be sleeping. John talked him down in the kitchen talking about the stuff they got up to at 15, plus something about needing to be able to handle drinks.

Suddenly your stomach turned and you made a mad dash to the toilet. You were sick and your head was pounding. One of his hands held your hair back while the other steadied you.

“It’s alright love. I’m ‘ere, just get it up.” He comforted you and John came through with some water.

“Come on love, you didn't drink enough to be sick did ya?” He joked but you caught the look that Tommy gave him and suddenly he was on the hunt to find some ginger root in the kitchen.

John and Tommy spent the better half of the morning helping you feel better.

Tommy was what every daughter would hope for in a father. He was hard on you but he loved you in ways that were obvious.

You had woken up from a particularly horrible nightmare, you turned on your lamp and walked with shaky legs to the bathroom to get some water. When you saw what was an impossibly large spider by the tap handle. A shriek that could have risen the dead left your lips as you made a run for the bedroom door.

“DAD!” You yelled right as he’d opened the door with his gun out. You threw yourself against his body.

“What the bloody fuck happened?!” He said.

“Buy a new house. We can't live here.”

“Why the fuck not?”

“Spiders. The biggest spider I have ever seen. I can't, it's just horrible.” You whimpered into his chest and you felt him relax and swallow his anger.

“Where’s the spider, love?”

“In the bathroom, on the tap.” He let go of you and went into the bathroom carrying out the spider with his hands dropping it out the window.

“There, all safe now, eh?” He said looking you over. He could feel the conflict going on inside you. “Alright come through then.”

He tucked you into his bed.

“Is it just the spider that upset you?” he asked hesitantly.

You let out a long sigh.

“It's just….Girl stuff.” Your eyes watered at the embarrassment.

“Ah” He got onto the other side of the bed and turned the lamp out. Somehow the darkness made it easier to talk.

“I hate it, everything is fucking upsetting and I have no control over myself. The cramps are murderous and I punched an older boy in the courtyard yesterday because he laughed at one of the younger girls' braids. I'm not mad about beating his ass, but I'm mad that I cried afterwards because I couldn't help it. Fucking pathetic.” You whispered in defeat.

“Well. I don't know what that’s like, but I do know what it's like when your mind isn't your own.”

“And the nightmares are worse” You whispered.

“Well come here if you want.” He lifted his arm and you scooted closer resting against his side. “Nothing is going to get you here. You can take the day off tomorrow and rest. You already know everything they will teach you there anyway.” you barely caught the end of his words before you were asleep. Drooling on his chest out cold.

_____

Tommy let out a breath. His mother was dead by the time he was fifteen, and he certainly didn't crawl into his fathers bed when he got scared or upset. Maybe he wasn't doing this right. Maybe he should be harder on you, teach you to be strong. But then his mind wandered back to the scars that littered your arms from the beatings at the orphanage, or the way you’d broken down when describing how that man had touched you, how hard you had to fight to get away. Or how tightly you’d grip his arms after waking up, always running from faceless men trying to harm her.

The world hasn't been kind to you in the slightest. You’d been tough and strong your whole life. Hell you were digging holes in his backyard and dragging bodies in the night before he’d even known your name.

You had pulled the family out of disaster with your quick thinking.

When Arthur has a nightmare or a fight with Linda he calls the bloody house to talk to you about it, John only trusts you to watch his kids as you were the only one bold enough to punish them and keep them safe while the family was out.

Polly found the daughter she’d lost in you, she’d come around the house more than ever. Even if just to sit and watch you do homework. Teaching you about how to be a woman and do things the gypsy way at every opportunity.

Esme finally had someone who wanted to roll around in the dirt with her. The two of you were always out in the garden now that the weather had gotten better. He thought back to finding the extra wood behind the stables turned into an immaculately built chicken coop. Painted green like you thought it would blend in with the grass and go unnoticed.

He snorted, you were absurd but there wasn't a task on the planet you couldn't manage.

He thought back to their conversations he’d had with the family. How you actually made him smile and laugh, like there was life blown into the family again. He rarely argued with Polly now, somehow you had a way of translating between them.

You’d walked in on some of the worst family fights they’d had, somehow managing to sooth and advocate for everyone simultaneously till the problem was fixed.

Everything he did was to keep you safe, but he knew you were a nasty fighter and would manage perfectly fine without him. A thought, he realised, made him feel much better. Clearly things were just fine, he realised that you’d called him “dad” when you saw the spider. He never thought himself competent to be a father and yet here he was, heart slowly thawing out. He kissed your forehead and fell asleep.

____________________________________________________________

*I couldn't help myself*

John and Arthur teaching her how to shoot and Arthur showing her how to throw a proper punch.

Tommy taking her along with Johnny Dogs teaching her about nature and how to camp.

Okay but then she grows up, 18 or so, and Sir Oswald takes an interest in her. And she hates him immediately because he’s a disgusting person with horrible political values but also because he gets handsy with her. She gets really mad at Tommy when she finds out he’s joining his party. Only to find out this is all to bring him down obviously. After the assassination attempt fails, she finds him later at his hotel. And he thinks it's going to be an easy shag, that Tommy must have sent her for something and she drops off some documents but manages to poison him. He dies and she escapes all sneaky like. She tells Tommy and he’s mad she risked herself like that but is also relieved that it's over. No one ever finds out who managed to kill him.

Polly has a big fucking wedding and she gets to be the flower girl and helps arrange everything so its perfect. Plus adds in a few surprises.

Her being more involved in the family business and finally finding a way to make it legal, the whole family getting absolutely trashed celebrating afterwards.

Also I kind think she would get along with Alfie quite well and at some point something horrible happens so Alfie takes her and the kids in to keep them safe till the family can figure it out. But in that time maybe she has a fling and falls for one of Alfie’s men or a nephew that's around her age. She ends up calling Esme for advice which Tommy overhears and loses it on the phone. Once everything is sorted between the gangs or whatever the danger was, Tommy doesn't like the situation, but he knows she’s not a little girl any more either. So he just tolerates it and him and Alfie fuss over it constantly.

Tommy holding her tight and trying not to cry before walking her down the aisle on her wedding day.

____

Reader's first day at school Ideas: https://padfootdaredmetoo.tumblr.com/post/678000035482451968/what-would-yns-first-day-of-school-be-like

Tags list: @tommydoesntpayforsuits @peakyevans @misselsbells06

#Tommy Shelby #Thomas Shelby #Peakyblinders #Peakyblinders fic #Peaky blinders #peaky blinder fanfic #peaky blinders request #Tommy shelby & reader daughter #Tommy Shelby x daughter #Peaky kids

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fruitcoops · 3 years

Note

okay so we all love dad dumo and he's an incredible parent but even dumo isn't perfect. Could we maybe have dumo snapping at logan (or sirius, if it strikes your fancy, but i love dumo+logan dynamics) and then apologizing for it like a parent actually f*cking should

Oof, yes. Combined with asks for Sirius and Logan bonding, as well as some pre-Cap and James. SW credit goes to @lumosinlove!

TW for parental figure disappointment

The car rumbled. Dumo’s hands squeaked on the wheel as he flexed his fingers. Logan felt like he was going to throw up.

Can we turn around real quick? No, too vague. Can we go home so I can use the bathroom? No, he’ll say I can wait another ten minutes. I forgot my phone at home? No, he saw me put it in my pocket. Logan ran through every possible way of asking to go back to the Dumais house without giving away his dilemma; with each scenario, they grew further from where he needed to be.

“Hey, Dumo?” he began quietly, swallowing around his dry mouth. What was it his father always said? Honesty is the best policy. “We need to go back to your house for a moment.”

“We’re already running late,” Dumo said, not even sparing him a glance in the rearview mirror. The traffic around them was a mess. “If we go back, we’ll miss the first part of warmups.”

“I know, but it’s kind of important.”

“So is the game. If it’s your wallet, you don’t need it right—”

“I left my skates by the front door.”

Dead silence filled the car as Dumo slowed to a stop at the fourth red light. Logan’s heart sank and his stomach crawled into his throat. “What?”

“I left my skates by the front door,” he repeated, staring at his hands. “I’m sorry, I wasn’t thinking—”

“Tabernak, Logan!” Dumo snapped. He felt something inside him wither and die. “First the nap, then forgetting to wash your jersey, and now you left your fucking skates behind? What’s going on in your head? You are an adult now with responsibilities, and it’s your job to keep track of your shit.”

“I know,” Logan said quietly.

Dumo huffed. “Clearly you don’t! Do you just not care? Is that it?”

“I care.”

“This isn’t a college team, Logan.” Dumo’s accent grew harsh around his name. It had been a bad day for him—Adele came down with a nasty cold just after Celeste left to visit her parents for the weekend, and there was always an added pressure with home games. Logan knew that, and he knew he should have been paying better attention.

“I know.”

Dumo muttered a curse under his breath and pulled onto a side road, then swore again when his duffle bag slid in the passenger seat. Logan closed his eyes; there was no way they would make it all the way to the house and back to the rink in time for pre-game rituals. Damn it, Tremblay. What were you thinking?

They drove the rest of the way in silence. Dumo parked the car with a quiet “go”, and Logan hurried inside with a slight nod to the babysitter as he grabbed his skates before slinking back to the car with his head hung low.

“I’m really disappointed in you,” Dumo said when they reached the freeway again.

“I’m sorry.”

He received no response.

They won the game despite skipping all their superstitions, no thanks to Logan. He played like shit; Arthur barely gave him four shifts the whole night. Finn shot him a concerned look as he rinsed off and slipped back into his street clothes, but Logan didn’t have the energy to confront both his best friend and the upsetting feelings connected to the aforementioned best-friend-slash-secret-crush. If he tried, he’d certainly end up doing something stupid.

He packed his things, slung his bag over his shoulder, and followed Dumo out to the car like a stray dog with his tail between his legs. “I really am—”

“I don’t want to hear it,” Dumo interrupted as they pulled out of the parking lot. Logan pressed his lips together. “Are you hungry?”

Starving. “Kinda.”

“I’ll heat up some leftover lasagna when we get back to the house. Will you pay the babysitter and make sure the kids are in bed?”

“Sure.”

“Thank you.”

Logan ground his teeth around the steady ache building in his chest—he hated disappointing people in general, but it was a whole different story with Dumo. He was his second father, the person Logan admired most on the team. He gave him a home and a substitute family to ease the homesickness, and was always there to cheer him on. And Logan let him down.

They went through their nightly routine silently, which was a sharp contrast to their usual banter. Marc and Louis refused to go to bed at first, nearly bringing Logan to tears in his frustration, but he eventually got them settled down and tucked in. By some miracle, both the girls were already asleep.

“I’m going to call Celeste,” Dumo finally said as Logan unloaded the dishwasher. He nodded without a word, not trusting his voice.

As soon as the dishwasher was full and running, Logan took his phone out and dialed the only person he wanted to hear from. It rang twice before connecting. “Hello?”

“Hey.” His voice cracked and he cleared his throat. “Hey, Cap, what’s up?”

“Not much.” Sirius sounded confused, and more than a little tired. “Ça va?”

Logan’s eyes burned. “Not bad. Do you have a minute?”

There was a rustling noise from the other end, followed by the clink of keys. “You’re at Dumo’s, right?”

“Oui.”

“I’ll be there in ten.”

“Thanks,” he managed around his tight throat. “See you soon.”

Hushed voices came from the living room and Logan padded down the hall, knocking gently on the doorframe. Dumo looked up and furrowed his brow. “Un moment, mon amour. Are you alright?”

“Sirius is coming by in ten. We’re going to hang out for a bit, if that’s okay.”

“Tell him I say hello.” Without another word, Dumo uncovered the base of his phone and returned to his conversation. Logan nodded and headed back out into the hall, swallowing down the tears forming behind his eyes.

Ten minutes turned out to be seven minutes—Logan was simultaneously flattered and concerned—and a soft knock startled him out of his thoughts. Sirius already looked worried when the front door swung open. “What happened? Is everyone okay? Did something happen to Celeste?”

“She’s fine. Dumo says hi.” And he’s horribly disappointed in me. Logan took several deep breaths through his nose to control the tremor in his voice and Sirius gave him a worried once-over. “Can we drive around for a bit?”

“Of course.”

For all of his bluster and general brooding vibe, Sirius continued to be the king of empathy and (in Logan’s opinion) a secret mind-reader. The second his arm draped across Logan’s shoulders and held him close as they walked down the sidewalk, he felt some of the pressure in his chest release. “Sorry about the late call,” he sniffled. It was a cold night—the snot threatening to drip from his nose was frigid already. “I just—I needed to get out for a minute.”

“À tout moment.” Any time. Logan didn’t feel deserving of that kindness after the mess he had been on the ice. The heaters kicked on as soon as Sirius started the car and Logan closed his eyes, leaning back into the warm seat. “Can you tell me what happened?”

“It’s so stupid.”

“Doesn’t sound like it.”

Logan took a moment to breathe before shaking his head. “I forgot my skates. We were already running late, and I forgot my fucking skates at the house.”

Sirius hummed, but said nothing.

“It’s—Dumo has been having such a horrible day.” Tears clogged his throat again. “And I took a nap earlier because I stayed up late last night like an idiot, and Adele’s sick so he had all the kids and no help while he was trying to get ready, and then I overslept so it was already going to be rushed and forgot to clean my jersey and then—and then I forgot my skates. God, I’m so stupid.”

“Don’t say that.”

“It’s true.”

“It’s not.” Logan wanted to kick him for being so infuriatingly patient. Sirius glanced at him out of the corner of his eye. “That’s not why you’re upset, though.”

“He’s—” Logan broke off and swiped the first tear away with his sweatshirt cuff. “He said he was disappointed in me.”

“Ah.”

“It’s such a stupid thing to be upset about.”

Sirius sighed through his nose and pulled into the parking lot of a 24-hour Taco Bell, then turned off the car and faced Logan with one eyebrow raised. “Stop doing that.”

“Doing what?”

“Belittling yourself.”

“Okay, Heather,” Logan snorted. Sirius reached over and flicked him on the forehead. “Hey!”

“You forgot your skates. Big deal. We’ve all been there.”

Logan shot him a glare. “You’ve never forgotten your skates.”

“Yes, I have. My very first game with the Lions, actually. Except I didn’t realize it until we were already at the rink.”

“Did Dumo drive you back?”

“The whole damn way. He was mad as hell, but he did it.” Sirius’ face softened, and he poked Logan gently on the thigh. “Stop kicking yourself for this one. It sounds like it was a bad day for you both.”

“I still feel like shit.”

Sirius shrugged. “I bet. Disappointing Dumo is the worst feeling ever.”

“He wouldn’t even let me apologize.”

“He will.”

They sat in silence for a full minute as Logan tried to find the right words. “How did you deal with it? Letting people down. It feels like I’m drowning, sometimes.”

“Really, really poorly,” Sirius half-laughed, crossing his ankle over his knee. “It wasn’t until I was named captain that I started accepting that people weren’t lying when they forgave me for fucking up.”

“Why?”

“Believe it or not, the people I was around as a kid didn’t make a habit of apologizing to me when they did something wrong.”

Logan looked up from the faded letters on his sweatshirt sleeve and sniffled. “Thanks for bringing me out here.”

“Pas de problem. I figured you could use some company outside the house.”

“You’re the best.”

“I try.”

“You succeed.” You’re like a brother to me, actually. “Is this what James did for you?”

“No,” Sirius laughed. Affection took over his face, bright even in the dim light from the streetlamps. “No, he snuck me onto the roof of the rink with massive amounts of junk food and stayed with me until the imposter syndrome faded. It was fantastic, but we nearly got hypothermia several times in the winter. This is much more comfortable.”

“Thanks for helping me keep all my fingers and toes,” Logan said wryly. He lapsed back into silence and folded his forearms on the dashboard, sighing at the pleasant stretch of his back. “I know I have to go back eventually, but I’m scared.”

“Honestly, Logan, I bet he’s already forgiven you. He knows it was an accident.”

“But what if he doesn’t?” The words came out as little more than a whisper. Sirius’ hand rested hesitantly between his shoulder blades until Logan leaned back into it, then began rubbing gentle circles.

“He does,” Sirius said softly. “And he loves you so much.”

Logan sniffed back more tears. “Really?”

“Ouais. You’ve been living with him for nine months now, and he’s so proud of how far you’ve come.”

“How do you know?”

“Because he told me. Last week, after your hat trick. People fuck up, Logan, but that doesn’t mean they’re unforgivable. You don’t need to flay yourself for one bad day.”

Logan shut his eyes with a slow exhale and buried his face in his forearms. “I think I’m ready to go back now.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah.”

“D’accord. Buckle your seatbelt.”

He straightened up and stretched, wincing at the crack of his back. Sirius drove out of the parking lot and hummed under his breath to the radio, but Logan didn’t miss the careful glances out of the corner of his eye. “You don’t need to worry about me,” he finally said. “I’ll be okay.”

“I know,” Sirius said casually, though he looked like he was holding something back. Logan didn’t press; Sirius would talk in his own time if he wanted to. He opened his mouth, paused, then sighed. “But I do worry about you.”

“Why?”

“Because.”

Thank you, Captain Black, for the most media answer of all time. “You really don’t have to.”

Sirius parked the car and leaned his head back against the seat. “You’re my friend, and I care about you, so I worry.”

Logan blinked at him. “You care about me?”

“Obviously,” Sirius muttered. Even in the darkness of the street, his cheeks were pink. “Now go on, you've got someone waiting for you.”

“I care about you, too.”

“Out of my car, Tremblay.” Despite his words, a smile quirked at the corner of Sirius’ mouth. Logan socked him lightly on the arm and opened the door, shivering in the night air as it bit through his hoodie.

“Drive safe, Cap.”

“I will.”

The walk to the front door felt less like a trip to the gallows and more like coming home; Logan felt his muscles relax, and saw the curtains shift as someone moved away from the window. Dumo opened the door before he could even knock.

“I’m sorry,” they said in unison. Logan raised his eyebrows and Dumo opened the door the rest of the way, ushering him inside.

The moment the door closed behind him, Dumo wrapped him in a hug. “I’m so sorry for what I said earlier, Logan. You made a mistake, and I shouldn’t have come down hard on you.”

“I’m sorry I made us late,” Logan said into his soft shirt. “And for not helping earlier. It won’t happen again.”

“All is forgiven.” Dumo patted him on the back of the shoulder and held him at arm’s length with a sad smile. “I should have kept a better handle on my temper. You don’t deserve to be spoken to like that.”

Logan bit back the urge to say it’s okay or I deserved it and instead pulled him in for another hug. “Thank you for everything you’ve done for me. I didn’t realize how much you’ve helped me until today.”

Dumo made a quiet sound and held him tighter. “It’s a gift to have you here.”

Logan squeezed his eyes shut as a wave of emotion rolled in his heart. “There is nowhere I would rather be,” he whispered. They stayed like that for a long moment, swaying slightly, before Dumo stepped back.

“Get some rest. We have early practice tomorrow.” He mussed Logan’s hair and gave him a nudge toward the stairs. “Bonne nuit, mon fils.”

Mon fils. Logan’s breath caught for a second and he smiled. “Bonne nuit.”

#logan tremblay #sirius black #pascal dumais #finn o'hara #james potter #sweater weather #lumosinlove #my fic #fanfic #hurt/ comfort #cap and logan bonding #dad dumo

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closhelby · 3 years

Text

Black Hand.

Fandom: Peaky Blinders

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x Reader

Warnings: usual Peaky shit

Prompt: none bar the scene itself.

Word Count: 1,796.

Author note: wrote this three fucking times I’m at my wits end! Unsure to make this into a few parts.

——

Y/N woke again, at the crack of dawn, rolling over checking her watch, 5.36AM. This was the usual for her, since leaving Birmingham she could barely sleep past 6am, since the breakdown of her marriage.

It was Christmas morning, the first she was spending with only one of her two children. Charlie, y/n’s eldest son was spending his Christmas with his father this year, since splitting y/n and Tommy regularly had sex behind her boyfriends back, and then she fell pregnant, with her now two year old Harry. However, Tommy wasn’t aware of this child being his, and as far as everyone else was aware it was Roberts child.

Y/n rolled out of bed, and began to wash and get ready for the day ahead. She sat at her dressing table, thinking, as she did regularly, how it would’ve been if they didn’t spit. There was still very clearly tension there, sexual especially. Due to this, y/n cut all interaction with Tommy, whenever they needed to talk over Charlie, she would get nanny’s and maids to travel with him.

Just finishing her makeup, finishing her all off with a spritz of perfume and putting on her watch, which now shown it as 6.56am. Y/n went downstairs, starting to make herself a cup of tea when she was startled with the letterbox chattering as the postman put today’s Mail. She moved over to the door, bending over to pick up the letters, opening the first one to reveal a white card with a black hand on the front.

“Fuck!” Y/n’s heart started beating at a rapid rate, she knew that this meant kill or be killed. She needed to get her and Harry out of there ASAP. They weren’t far behind and they already knew where she lived. She ran back upstairs, grabbing overnight bags and stuffing them with her most valuable items and clothes she could possibly wear before doing the same for Harry. All while trying to be as quiet as she could because she didn’t want to wake Rob.

Y/n ran from the house to the car sat on the front drive, she didn’t even bother to ask a driver. She was going alone. Leaving alone. Without an explanation. Despite the severity of the situation, this was brewing for a long time. The current relationship was a cover up. Y/n accepted the fact that the only man she will ever love will remain Thomas Shelby, and she knew it would be the same for him. And I think that’s why they both didn’t file for a divorce.

Quickly packing the car with things she may need for herself and Harry, she ran back upstairs to collect the sleeping boy from his bed and placed him into the front seat of the car. He continued to sleep throughout the car ride, back to Small Heath. Y/n knew Tommy like the back of her hand, she knew that everyone that is associated with the Shelby name would have been dealt a black hand, and knew the only place they could possibly be safe would be in the polluted streets of Birmingham.

Turning the car onto Watery Lane, as all those childhood memory’s flooded back. From when she ran about with John as a kid, to when her and Ada would get into trouble together in her early teens, all the way to building a large profitable business with her husband, all came flooding to her. A rush of emotion, clearly visible on her face as the car came to a halt outside the once betting den. Y/n rarely had any emotion showing, only Tommy would see that in the many nights they spent alone, but that was the same for both of them. They acted tough to everyone else but vulnerable for each other. The bond they had, partners in crime, was admired, despite them both being gangsters.

Tommy was very clearly heartbroken from the downfall in their relationship, he also believed that y/n was the only woman for him in the long run. But the only way he felt that he could get over that was her under someone else. He turned to Lizzie on the regular, and as y/n still kept in contact with Ada, she knew about this. Y/n was very alike Tommy in this sense, if she needed to find something out, it would always come her way, weather she needed to look for it or not. Ultimately they shared a child together, technically two, but there was still so much love there between the both of them.

“Fucking hell,” y/n muttered before kicking in the door that stood before her. Her two year old son clutching to her chest, still fast asleep as she walked towards the family she still loved dearly. Pol loved her, loved her like her own, but they both had a similar trait, they never backed down. And sometimes like Tommy, they would argue for days on end.

Y/n stood before the table, where all but Tommy sat before her. She quickly scanned the room, noticing a blonde woman, she knew was Linda, but hadn’t met was looking at her with a very foul face on her. Ada on the other hand was smiling, excited to see her best friend after years of being away. Tommy standing to her left, eyes wide wondering why his wife was stood before him, in small Heath, with a young child in her hand.

Pol broke the silence first, “What the fuck are you doing here? Tommy tell ya?”

“No however, since you know, I find out absolutely anything I need to,” y/n spoke directing a foul look to Lizzie who was stood over in the corner, “I have also been dealt a black hand.”

There was a mutter of fuck sakes throughout the room, as they realised this was a bit more real than before. Tommy then started to talk about the issue at hand.

“Why are you starting when Johns not here?”

The room fell cold, distant and all eyes were trying to avoid hers. But Tommy wasn’t, he didn’t avoid her gaze as y/n turned to look at him. He very rarely lied to her, he simply couldn’t get away with it if anything, y/n found out everything.

“Fucking ‘ell Tommy, tell me!”

“John was killed this morning, on his front door step infront of his wife.”

Tears started to form in the once emotionless woman, the room felt as though it was caving in on them. Her legs felt heavy, like she could collapse to the ground at any moment, but her head felt light. She quickly muttered to Tommy, handing the baby over, stumbling back to process what she had just been told. John was before all this, they were best friends since they were about 4. They went all throughout school together, and because y/n dad had passed before he could walk her down the isle, John did.

“Those fuckin’ bastards! Christmas Day! Im going to fucking kill them myself,” y/n screamed in frustration.

“She won’t cope well with this,” Ada spoke quietly enough that the table could hear but y/n couldn’t. Ada approached her, giving her a soft cuddle of comfort. Y/n didn’t cry, she didn’t cry infront of anyone. But she was very close today.

She composed herself, breathing out before standing up, “why did I have to marry into this shit?”

“Why haven’t you divorced him?”

Ada knew the answer, she always had.

They both moved back over to the table, Ada returning to her seat while y/n stood by Tommy’s side. He still stood there holding his own child, without the knowledge of it. He continued to speak about the issues they were currently facing with Luca Changretta, but y/n wasn’t even listening to what he was saying, simply zoning out to how weird her life was. She’s looking at the love of her life while they’re no longer together, holding their second son that he has no clue about.

“Y/n?”

Her head quickly shot up following the direction of the voice. Arthur.

“Hm?”

“Peace or truce?” Tommy spoke.

“Peace”

“Very well. Six peace, two truce.” He quickly handed Harry back over to y/n before heading back upstairs. The group got up and left to do their own thing, while Ada sat at the table waiting for the catch up that was well needed between them both.

“Two seconds, I’m just gonna put Harry up to bed.” Ada nodded in response as y/n made her way upstairs to put Harry to bed. She opened the door to find Charlie sleeping in the small bed, leaning over to put Harry at the back of him, giving both of them a peck on the cheek before turning to see Tommy in the door way.

“Your new boyfriend is the dad? But your not married to him?”

“No I’m not married to him.”

“So you had a child out of wedlock?”

She sighed. She wasn’t going to lie to him anymore, there was enough damage and if she knew she would have to spend the next few months living with him, she needed to get it out there as soon as possible.

“No, I’m married.”

“yes, to me.”

Y/n walked over to him, pulling him into the room and closing the door behind him, aware of the fact this house was full. He took a seat on the small chair in the corner, while y/n stood slightly back from him.

“Remember that last fuck we had. Before I refused to see you.”

He nodded.

“I refused to see you because I was pregnant, and I knew it was yours.”

“Fuck sake y/n.” Tommy spoke, running his hands through his hair.

The room then went silent. The two of them not knowing what to say next, for the first time in years they were speechless.

Y/n decided to break it, “He knows. Rob knows he’s not his, he can see it, but it’s never been mentioned. Harry also knows who you are, I’ve shown him pictures of you that I have.”

Tommy stood up abruptly, making his way over to her. His hands wrapped round her waist as he pulled her closer to him. Y/n was looking, and clearly getting lost in his blue eyes. Tommy leaned in to her, their lips meeting softly,y/n began to kiss back. The feeling this was what they both had longed for. Both of them having sex with others that meant absolutely nothing to them. The bedroom door swings open to reveal Finn stood there, his mouth hung wide.

“A - Ada’s wondering where you are?”

Y/n smiled before pulling out the embrace, muttered a thanks then proceeded to go downstairs. She turns round as she’s on the third stair down, “don’t say a thing Finn,”

#cillian murphy #tommy shelby #tommy shelby x y/n #tommy shelby fluff #tommy shelby x reader #tommy shelby fanfic #peakyxtommy #peaky blinder fanfic #peaky blinder imagine #peaky blinders

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hotchscvm · 3 years

Text

chapter one: a midsummer’s nightmare [dirty secrets]

Chapter summary: Her father’s death brings in two hunters into her life.

Series warnings: underage reader, consensual underage sex, explicit sexual content, underage drinking, language, violence, gore, angst, major character death, major age difference, size kink, unprotected sex

Chapter warnings: minor character death, implied attraction, language, decapitation, implied underage drinking

Word count: 4.8k

dirty secrets masterlist

"Don't you look ... depressed." you mumbled, taking a seat next to the spaced out, lacrosse co-captain. You poked your finger into his dimple, smiling when he broke out of his daze. The sand shifted under you, the dampness pulling at the ripped denim. "Why're you staring at the ocean like you lost the love of your life?"

Emmett chuckled, taking the cheap beer from your hand, swallowing it all before grinning at you. Your best friend from middle school that had to be dragged out of his sweats draped an arm around you. "I was trying to look mysterious. This bonfire is a bore, by the way."

"I know, last year seemed more fun, didn't it?" you agreed, laying your head on his shoulder, the muscles making it slightly uncomfortable. "How's the hand?"

"It's fine, don't worry. You said you had something to tell me, remember? What is it? Are you secretly in love with your bodyguard? The buffy one that keeps glaring at me?" Emmett joked, groaning when he felt your elbow hitting his ribs. "Ow!"

"These FBI agents came to the house today and asked a bunch of questions about my dad's old partner. They never said anything about what the guy did so I was wondering if you heard anything on the news? The guy's name is Andrew Daniels. I looked him up but nothing came up." you informed. "My dad was acting edgy."

Emmett raised an eyebrow, flinching when the water crept to his feet. "I haven't heard anything. What did the Feds ask you?"

"If I remembered anything about him basically. They were really hot, by the way. Especially the tall one, and his partner had the most beautiful green eyes--"

"Okay, okay, okay. I get it, they were hot." he interrupted, waving a hand to stop you from finishing the sentence. "Other from being interrogated by the Feds, did anything else happen?"

"Nah, I just watched my skin burn for the rest of the day, what about you?"

"Declan came home today, and we worked out. He kept asking about you, wondering if you were dating anyone. He's so fucking annoying. Did you really have to date my brother?" asked Emmett, playing with the solo cup before throwing it into the ocean.

The party behind you had started to die down after the first few hours, turning into a chill hangout around the large bonfire, while others wandered out into the dark ocean. The light from the tacky fairy lights and the burning fire was enough for everyone to see the major part of the beach without difficulties.

"My bad." you shrugged, noticing a movement from the corner of your eye. Glancing to your left, you saw two familiar faces, an eyebrow lifting. Green eyes in the dark met yours, and you quickly look away, mumbling under your breath. "Well, fuck me."

Emmett stiffened, looking in the direction you had, confused and wary. "What? What's going on?"

"Those are the agents I told you about," you said, biting your lip to hold back the smile. You had no reason to smile, especially if they were here but they made an impression, and the tuxes certainly helped.

"Dude, one of them is coming over. Stop smiling like you're the joker. I know you like them but chill." Emmett elbowed your ribs lightly, enough to knock the maniac smile off your face.

The sound of the ocean was loud enough to drown your whispers as Banner walked over. The suit had been replaced with a plaid flannel paired with a heavy, drab coat, and a pair of jeans that looked uncomfortable. With the confidence, he carried, he seemed, even more, intimidating out of his suit.

"Ms. Pierce?" Agent Banner checked, watching as you stood from your seat, his lips quirking into a smile.

Emmett stood with you, not missing the barely visible twinkle in your eyes. Fixing your denim shorts, you returned the smile. "Agent Banner. You don't have to call me Ms. Pierce. I mean, I told you my name for a reason."

He chuckled, goosebumps rising on your arm as he murmured your name. "Alright, well then, I'm Sam."

"Okay, Sam. Oh, um, this is my friend, Emmett." you motioned to the blond beside you, a smug smirk etched on his face despite his attempts to bite it back.

"I was going to get more ... water. Be right back." Emmett injected before Sam could say anything. He left immediately, practically running back to the bonfire where many teens had circled around.

Sam stuffed his hands in his jacket's pockets, looking at the ground as Emmett left you alone with the man you wanted to climb like a tree. Your nails dug into your palm as you clench a fist, trying to contain what Emmett called your 'inner slut.' "What exactly are you doing here, Agent?"

"Sam." he corrected, a stray hair falling over his eyes. Sam brushed it back, his eyes never leaving yours. "I wouldn't want to worry you anymore than we've probably have. We're handling the situation, but you should avoid Finn Burke."

Dread washed through you, as did confusion. "Finn Burke? Whatever your thinking, you're wrong. I've known Finn my whole life and he's not the kind of person who'd do anything illegal. He's so vanilla and lowkey boring."

The brunette in front of you raised a brow, a little surprised by the honesty. "I wouldn't be too sure. Promise me you'll keep your distance from him. At least, until we've handled the situation."

"And what does that mean?" you asked, crossing your arms, patiently waiting for the gorgeous Fed to answer.

He opened his mouth, only to close it a second later. Sam shook his head, taking a step back. "Don't think too much about it."

Before you could question him, someone called your name. Looking behind Sam, you saw your friends, Katherine and Crystal wiggling their eyebrows, Katherine winked at you while Crystal bravely humped the air. A laugh escaped your lips, causing Sam to turn around. They immediately stopped, quickly turning around, their shoulders shaking from laughter. Unfortunately, Sam had seen enough to blush profusely.

You giggled, covering your grin with your hand. You changed the subject quickly, "You look like a narc. Like, one of those cops from 21 Jump Street who shops at Lumberjacks 'R' Us. I'd say you're the Channing Tatum, but you're taller than him."

Sam chuckled, rocking back and forth on his heels. "I'd expect you to say that considering how short you are. Hey! Not in a bad way, it's cute how tiny you are."

"I don't think that counts, everyone shorter than six feet belongs in the short category for you." you replied, struggling to keep from blushing at his previous statement. "I mean, you're a giant."

This warranted a laugh from Sam. Peeking behind you, he spotted Dean waving him over, an annoyed expression imprinted onto his face. Ignoring his own brother, he turned his attention back to you. "Says the short cheerleader. You know, I could bust you right now, I can smell the alcohol from here."

"Ooh, kinky." you joked, causing Sam to cough violently. You threw your head back in laughter while the agent's choking eased. Looking back at his partner, Agent Stark who had mastered the bitch face, glaring at the giant in front of you. You pointed your thumb towards Stark. "I think your partner wants to talk to you."

Sam coughed once more, clearing his throat as he looked over at his annoyed partner. "I should see what he wants. Try to stay out of trouble."

"I'll call you when I turn eighteen, Sam." you murmured, brushing up against his arm as you passed him. You felt him tense beside you for a second, and you smirked, walking away. Looking back, you saw Sam glaring at his feet. "Don't die!"

You were already out of ear shot before Sam could muster up a reply.

—

"Dude, we're on a case." Dean lectured, shaking his head at his flustered brother. Sam raised an eyebrow, too distracted by what the young—beautiful—girl had implied. Dean rolled his eyes, motioning for his brother to follow him. "Wait until we're done til you hit that."

Sam's eyes widened, glaring at his brother. "She's seventeen, Dean."

"Wow, she doesn't look seventeen. Whatever." dismissed Dean, slightly irritated by the amount of sand entering his shoes. "I talked to the stoned douchebag, and from what I can tell, we were right. Andrew Daniels is a vampire, turned that Finn kid, and in the process of growing a large nest."

"Did you find out where the nest is?" Sam asked, more worried than usual for the victim. He still couldn't place what was so different and intriguing about the girl.

Dean shook his head, and Sam couldn't help the exasperated sigh that left his lips. The green-eyed man clapped his brother's shoulder. "Relax, we'll find it. For now, we keep an eye on Finn and take him out when he's alone. You told your girlfriend to stay away from her ex-boyfriend, right? Or did you forget while you were ogling her?"

The younger brother ignored Dean's jab, nodding. "Yeah, but we should look out for her. She isn't entirely convinced he's dangerous. Not that I blame her, he looks like he'll cave if someone threatened his dog."

"Okay. I'm guessing you want to stalk her while I behead Edward Cullen?" Dean blocked a slap from his brother, smirking at the response he had gotten. Sam's bitch face was enough for him to draw a conclusion. "I'll take that as a yes."

"Jerk."

"Bitch."

Sam glanced around the beach, dread washing over him when he couldn't find her. "Call me when you're done."

Under his breath, Dean mumbled, "How much can someone hate their kid enough to name them Finn?"

—

Excusing yourself, you slid out under Emmett's embrace, wiggling your empty cup at him. Too focused on getting to the cooler without tripping, you hadn't noticed Finn Burke following you until you inadvertently tripped over your feet, a pair of strong arms catching you. To your surprise—and disappointment—it wasn't the shaggy-haired FBI agent you had been thinking about all night.

Still, you couldn't help the grin that appeared on your lips, happy to see your friend. "Hey, you made it! Aren't you a little bit late?"

Finn smiled softly, helping you to steady your legs, keeping an arm around you as you both headed to the cooler. "I got here an hour ago but Tom wanted me to help out with a prank. Are you sure you should be drinking anymore?"

"I'm getting water since my dad is so adamant I stay safe tonight. I haven't drunk much but my legs are jelly," you replied, leaning on the toned soccer player. His piercing gray eyes drifted to yours, narrowing as he studied you. "Seriously, I'm not drunk, just clumsy."

"Let's get you some water," muttered Finn, sitting you down on one of the portable lawn chairs someone had brought. You relaxed in your seat, giving him your empty solo cup. After a few seconds, he handed it back, the solo cup now filled with water. "Drink this."

You gulped the water down, thirsty from talking all night. "Thanks. How's— hey, are you okay?"

He slowly nodded, his gaze fixed on your throat as he licked his lips. "Yeah, just a little tired. Finals really took it out of me, and I've been sleeping for the past few days. I wanted to talk to you about something."

"What's up?"

"Do you wanna go to my car? It's just so crowded here and it's important," said Finn, looking around. You mirrored his actions, confused, seeing everyone around the bonfire, several meters away while the rest were swimming in the ocean. "I'm not looking to hookup, I promise. Just some peace and quiet."

Against your better judgment, you ignored Sam's warning and nodded, taking his hand as you stood up. "Okay, sure. Let's go."

The walk to his car was silent, the air warm and salty enough to make you tired, even after the day of laying around and doing nothing. You yawned, covering your lips with one hand while Finn held the other. Despite your gut telling you to return back to the bonfire, you gave Finn the benefit of the doubt. After all, you'd know him since you were in diapers. He couldn't hurt

you.

You breathe in a sigh of relief as you saw the blue jeep under the warm light, allowing you to see a lot more than in the brief darkness. Leaning against the jeep, you faced him. "So, what did you wanna talk about?"

"How did it feel when you broke up with me in front of my friends?" he asked, taking a step closer. There was a glimmer in his eyes that made your spine shiver.

"What?" you mentally slapped yourself for letting your voice shake. He took another step closer, a predatory look washing over his face. Instinctively, you went to take a step back, realizing you were stuck between Finn and the jeep. If the unspoken threat hadn't been looming over your head, then the inability to speak about the breakup would've been more than uncomfortable.

Finn's smirk grew, one that you've never seen before. Out of all the things you would've described your friend, dangerous wouldn't've been one of them; it wouldn't have come close. "Did you feel satisfied when they pitied me? Happy when they witnessed you list every single flaw I have?"

"Finn, you know I didn't realize they were there. I thought you were alone. I would never do that to you." you reasoned, placing a hand over your heart. Your heartbeat was painfully loud, beating in your ears. "You're my friend."

He scoffed, eyes darkening as they focused on your neck, head tilting as he brushed away your hair for a better view at your pulse. "Friend? You'd throw me under the bus to save your ass. Even you'd kill your daddy for your survival. You're a selfish, pathetic bitch."

Anger bubbled up inside you, pushing the fear deep inside you. You opened your mouth to speak only to close it when a hand wrapped around your throat, shoving you up against the jeep, your head hitting the metal with a force that left your ears ringing in pain. Your vision blurred, body limped, and lungs screaming for air. In an attempt, you clawed at his arm but the gesture only seemed to make him laugh.

"Please." you gasped out, the corners of your vision slowly turning black. Finn lets out an inhuman growl, throwing his head back, several teeth growing in when he opened his mouth.

The soccer player leaned in quickly, and you prepared for the sharp pain but nothing came. For a moment, you were confused, wondering if the lack of air was the result of the blackness, only to realize you had shut your eyes. The hand on your throat lessened, a panicked voice in the back of your mind, and something wet splattered on your chest. A worried voice called your name, a pair of warm arms caught you as you slumped down.

You slowly opened your eyes, disoriented and puzzled to see Sam in front of you, his arms wrapped around your waist as he held you up. With wide eyes, you looked around, waiting for Finn to ambush the both of you, only to meet Agent Stark's angry eyes. But he wasn't glaring at you. Sam called out your name once again, bringing your attention back to him. "Sam?"

He sighed in relief, checking out your neck where you would later find out was bruised. "Are you okay? Didn't I tell you to stay away from that douchebag? Fuck, I'm sorry."

You were overwhelmed by the rollercoaster of emotions Sam displayed, surprised by his tight grip on your waist. Glimpsing at Agent Stark--who had bit his lip to keep from laughing at his brother's worriedness--you saw the blood-covered blade he held. You followed the trail of blood, eyes popping out of their sockets when you saw Finn laying on the parking lot; without his head. "Oh. Looks like he lost his head."

Stark burst out laughing, unable to contain his surprise at your ease about the bloody situation. Sam glared at his brother, letting you go as you processed what had happened. "Hey, listen to me. Dean and me have to go. We think there's more monsters like Finn after your dad."

The mention of your father broke you out of your state, a hand quickly grabbing Sam's. With panicked eyes, you looked at him. "No, no. I'm coming with."

"It's not safe." Dean responded, cleaning the blood off his blade, grimacing when a few droplets made contact with his skin. Sam nodded in agreement. "There's going to be a whole nest of vampires, and we can't protect you and save you dad."

You opened your mouth to protest, goosebumps rising as you heard the word. Vampires. Subconsciously, you looked at your former friend's decapitated head, the sharp fangs intact, beaming under the street lamp. "Is that what he was? A vampire?"

"Yes," Sam replied, waiting for you to scream, run away, slap them for killing your lifelong friend, or anything other than quietly processing the information like they just told you something other than the existence of supernatural beings. "We're hunters, we save people from things that go bump in the night."

"The vampire that turned your friend is Andrew Daniels, the man who threatened your dad. We have to go, there might be a whole nest of vampires at your house--" Dean stopped, halting when he saw his brother's glare. He got the message: worrying the girl, even more, would not help them in any way.

You pushed yourself away from Sam's arms, grimacing when you stepped in the pool of Finn's blood. "If my dad's in danger then I'm coming with."

"No way," said Sam, shaking his head immediately. "It's dangerous, and you could get hurt more than you already have. Let us handle this, and we'll come back to get you when the coast is clear."

The logical part of you agreed with him; you had no knowledge of how to kill vampires, or anything supernatural for that part, and being there meant being in the way of these men doing their jobs. The reckless, anxious part of you wanted to be there, wanted to be the one to save your dad even when you didn't know how, and wanted to make sure he would alright. You let the latter made up your decision. With a glower, you crossed your arms. "I'm going with you. Whether you want me to or not."

"Sweetheart," Dean sighed, knowing one more word from you and Sam would give in. For that matter, Dean would've too.

"Look, he's the only family I have left. If I lose him ... " you trailed off, incapable of finishing. It didn't matter how busy your father had been the past few years or the lack of attention you've gotten. He was family and that meant everything to you. Meeting Sam's eyes, you silently begged him. "Please. I'll be out of the way, you won't have to protect me or anything. Just ... please."

Dean wasn't surprised when Sam caved, his younger brother nodding at your request. The younger Winchester reluctantly agreed and Dean gave up, following his little brother's lead. "Alright, let's go."

You walked behind Dean, following his lead to the black Chevy Impala while Sam silently walked beside you, the height difference making it slightly difficult to read your expression. Dean noticed the once over you gave his baby, beaming at Sam who rolled his eyes. You got in the back, admiring the leather and built of the vintage car, while Sam and Dean sat in the front.

The drive was silent and tense. You didn't miss the way Dean kept glancing in the rear-view mirror or the not-so-subtle over the shoulder glances from Sam. It took a few minutes but a recently buried thought crawled its way to the center of your attention.

"You guys aren't really FBI are you?" you blurted, mentally slapping yourself for not coming to that conclusion much sooner.

"Nope," Dean answered, making the p pop. "But after a lifetime of pretending to be one, it really does make being in monkey suits bearable."

"So, what are you guys? Low budget Ghostbusters?" you questioned, getting a simple scoff-like chuckle from Dean while Sam bit back a smile at the creative jab. "Seriously. You just decapitated my ex-boyfriend who turns out to be a vampire. And I'm wondering if I'm insane for trusting two men who posed as FBI agents and dress like virgin lumberjacks."

The elder Winchester lets out a guffaw and Sam allowed a little laugh to fill the Impala. Sam answered your question, "We're hunters. Or Men of Letters, if you want the old term."

"Right, I'm gonna pretend like I know what that is." you mumbled, meeting Dean's eyes in the rear view mirror. "Can you go faster? No offense, but my dead grandma drives faster than you."

Dean huffed, noticeably pushing the gas pedal harder. "I'll let you get away with that since you're in shock and can't control yourself."

"I'm not in shock, I'm just running away from my problems until I inevitably have to face them." you sassed. During different circumstances, you would've been scared, and frustrated but the existence of all things supernatural hadn't sunk into your brain just yet, and you had been hoping you were dreaming.

The elder Winchester's lips twitched upward, despite the situation. With the speed Dean was going, due to the peer pressure from the teen in the backseat, the three of your arrived at the huge mansion. All the lights were on and the unfamiliar cars on the driveway worried you. As soon as your foot hit the walkway, you had the urge to run, only to be stopped by Sam.

Silently, he handed you a blade, the light from the bright lantern nearby bounced off the silver. Dean had made his way to the front door, scanning the place only to kill a vampire when he reached the first step. He gestured for Sam to follow him, wiping the blood on a bush. Sam turned his attention back to you.

"Stay here. We'll be back with your dad. Don't hesitate to kill them because they will have the intention of killing you." Sam commanded, his eyes flickering to the dead, unnoticed security guard with his throat slit. He looked away before you could follow his gaze. "Stay in the car, please? We'll save your dad, but I—we need to know you'll be safe."

You nodded, tightening your grip on the handle of the blade. "I promise."

The younger brother threw you one last look before following Dean, his own machete in hand. The two brothers silently broke in, weapons in hand as they entered the large mansion. You kept your back against the Impala, looking around for any sign of the supernatural. With the amount of time you've been given to process the existence of the supernatural, the information hadn't completely sunk in. Not even when you pondered Finn's death.

It didn't take long for you to notice Edgar's limp body strewn across a bush, your father's lead security detail: dead and bloody. You gagged, covering your lips with your free hand. The sight of Edgar's corpse made you act against Sam's wishes, yet again. Walking to the door, you gripped your weapon, taking a deep breath prior to following the hunter's lead.

As soon as you stepped inside, you spotted a path of blood, leading towards the kitchen. You immediately regretted your plan when you saw an array of decapitated vampires. Loud grunts lead you to the kitchen, your sandals nearly slipping on the trail of blood.

Sam spotted you as soon as you emerged from the arch, blood splattered across his face, his blade dripping. The scene was horrid; Sam and Dean faced a large group of vampires, your father bruised and injured, the only thing holding him up was the fanged vampire behind him. Their eyes followed Sam's, heads whipping, smug smirks on their face when they realized who they were looking at.

Three things happened in the next second; first, the group of vampires pounced on you. Second, the two hunters expertly beheaded the said vampires. And third, a very familiar face sank his ingrown fangs into your father's exposed neck. One vampire had sped to you, yet despite the silent gasp your father let out, you instinctively ran your blade against his neck, the force beheading the monster.

All your heads snapped to your father, the two vampires that stood behind the one feeding from your dad baring their fangs. Sam grabbed your waist, pulling you behind him. You struggled against his grasp, wanting nothing but to slice the vampire into pieces, craved to watch them bleed, craved to have their heads. But all you could do was watch as the vampire quickly fed from your father, his eyes glazing over. It all happened quickly, but you knew.

Both brothers advanced towards the vampires, only to be shoved against the wall as the familiar vampire met your eyes. Then you realized, the vampire was Andrew Daniels. A strangled cry rose from your throat as he smirked, pulling his lips away from your fathers throat, only to snap the CEO’s neck, discarding the limp body.

The cry was enough of a distraction to the vampires that Sam and Dean has the ability to kill them, leaving the Andrew standing. He smirked, undeterred by his dead friends. “I’ll see you soon, sweet pea.”

And with that, he was gone.

You slumped on the floor, tears brimming your eyes as you sat next to the corpse of your father. The Winchesters watched you, guilty they hadn’t kept their promise. Deep down, you knew it was your fault. Of course, not directly, but if you hadn’t triggered Andrew’s actions, then your father wouldn’t be dead. It was silent for a few minutes, and just like before, you didn’t have the mental or emotional capacity to react.

Dean helped you up, wiping your bloody hands with his jacket. He sent his brother a look, knowing what this meant. Sam nodded, understanding. You were there responsibly now.

—

“I don’t understand.” you said in a monotone voice. The shock still hasn’t worn off, and you were afraid it was all going to come crashing down on you.

Sam shot Dean a look, and the elder brother froze. He shrugged and Sam sighed. “Andrew Daniels has your scent. And by the looks of it, there’s still more to his nest. He won’t stop until you’re dead.” Sam paused, trying to detect anything other than the blank expression on you. “It’s better if you come with us.”

You shook your head, looking around the living room. The white carpet had been stained by blood, although the bodies had been disposed, and burned. The only corpse in the house was your father’s. The one you forbade them from burning. “No. No, no, no. I can’t. I have to stay here. I have to plan a funeral. Oh, my God, I have to plan a funeral. I have—I—“

“Shh.” Dean comforted, resting his hand on top of yours, squeezing lightly. He knew it was only a matter of time before the numbness wore off. “Hey, look at me. It’ll be okay. We’ll take care of you. No one will hurt you.”

You yanked your hand away from his, standing as you glared at the blood stained carpet. “I can’t! I can’t just abandon my home. I’m not going to abandon my dead father, and run off with some hunters who posed as Feds. I’m going to stay here, and I’m going to plan a funeral.”

Sam softly called your name. “I’m sorry. I know I made you a promise to save him, and I’m sorry I couldn’t. But you have to let us protect you. You don’t know us, and we barely know you. But this is what we do, and right now, you have a whole nest of vampires with your scent. Who knows when they’ll come back. I won’t have you stay here. It’s not safe.”

“And I’m safe with you?” you spat out, venom lacing your voice. Sam and Dean recoiled, flinching at your harsh tone.

They nodded, and Dean stood up. “We’ll protect you with our lives.”

And stupidly, you believed them.

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@sammykb1994 @fofisstilinski @writingforthelonelysoul

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writingwithacupoftea · 4 years

Text

Comfort Blanket

Summary: It is up to Tommy and Y/N Shelby to keep the family together after their Mother’s death. They discover along the way that sometimes a comfort blanket is an object and other times it’s a feeling...

Word Count: 1891

Prompt: “There’s no place for us to sleep at night.” (part of @smallheathgangsters 1k followers party 💜)

A/N: This ended up being way more festive than I anticipated but, hey ho, it’s less than 3 month til Christmas now! I’ve also definitely taken some liberties with the whole pre-series story and ages and stuff but oh well. I’ve wanted to write a piece based on the blanket in this gif for a while now, so this prompt just worked perfectly for it!

Congratulations again, Leah, on the 1k milestone - it’s so well deserved, and here's to 1k more 🥳 I hope you and everyone else enjoys my little contribution to the celebration ❤️

(gif by @nofckingfighting)

The Shelby clan had never known darker times than the months following their mother's death.

Their father was more absent than ever before. Arthur Shelby Junior was still hopelessly trailing around after him. John had fled to Martha's house, seeking comfort in her arms. Ada was distraught, and everyone had given up trying to guess what her next move would be, for entering her teenage years had made her even more unpredictable than ever anyway. Between looking after Finn and working as much as her brother would allow, Polly was permanently exhausted.

Tommy felt like he was drowning alongside his mother, burdened with the responsibility of trying to look after his family as best he could whilst grieving.

That left Y/N. Born just a year after Tommy, she was the one he turned to when he needed a break. Whether it was to cry and mourn the loss of his beloved mother, or taking charge when all Tommy wanted to do was sleep after a long day's work, Y/N was always there. She picked up the pieces for all of her siblings, and was the oil that kept the cogs of the machine turning.

One night, Tommy and Y/N found themselves alone in the parlour, relishing in the moments of quiet that had fallen after the rest of the family had gone to bed. It was at these times that the pair confided in each other, whether it was their own news or that of their siblings.

Tonight, so far, they had sat in silence. But Y/N knew that Tommy would tell her something soon, and also knew that Tommy would be able to sense that she had something to tell him. It was all a matter of who would speak first.

"I don't know what to do, Y/N/N." Tommy had taken the leap this time.

"Don't know what to do about what?" Her brother's confession had surprised Y/N: Tommy always had a plan for everything.

"I'm doing everything I can to provide for us all and it's still not enough, even though I've taken every fucking job I can find. The lock on the door is still broken from when Dad came home drunk the other night, and the window next to Finn's nursery hasn't been mended yet from when John accidentally smashed it with his ball. Polly's had to take all of the spare blankets for him so that he doesn't get sick. We can't afford to buy any more. There's no place for us to sleep at night. Not somewhere that's safe and warm, anyway."

Y/N sighed. "First of all, Tom, and this is important, so you'd better fucking pay attention to me." Y/N was pleased to see that he let out a slight laugh at that. "You're doing an amazing job at all of this. We're all so grateful for everything you're doing, even if I'm the only one that will actually say it out loud. We couldn't ask any more of you, Tommy.

"Secondly, I may be able to help you – now, don't get mad!" Y/N added this last part hurriedly, having seen Tommy's eyebrows quickly shoot up. Taking a deep breath, Y/N broke the news. "Harry has given me a job...as a barmaid in the Garrison."

"What?!" Tommy jumped out of his seat, looking down at Y/N in disbelief. "Are you out of your mind? If you think I'm going to let you work there with all those drunk idiots every night, then you'd better think again."

"If you think you can tell me what I can and can't do, then you'd fucking better think again, Thomas," Y/N retorted, as her brother began to pace up and down the room. "In case you hadn't noticed, I'm an adult now and can make my own decisions. Anyway, I've worked everything out and I have a plan to put to you."

Tommy sat down again, not taking his eyes off his younger sister.

"You're working yourself into the ground, Tommy, and quite frankly we can't afford for you to be ill, so you need to get some more rest." The man in question opened his mouth to protest, but was cut off immediately by Y/N. "I want you to give up a couple of your jobs – some of them only pay a pittance, whilst my wage alone would cover that and a little more. I want you to put more time and energy into building up our Dad's business. I've got this feeling that it could become so much more, and you're the one that will make it happen, Tommy, I just know it!"

The second eldest Shelby brother sighed, his head falling heavily into his hands. He had to admit, Y/N's plan sounded incredibly tempting. But still, doubts invaded his thoughts, namely his concerns over his sister working in the Garrison of all places and the question of what if it all failed? What if they ended up in a worse position than they were in now?

With two words from Y/N, however, he was convinced: "Trust me."

"Fine. We'll give it a go on one condition – if any of those fuckers at the pub ever, and I mean ever, give you any bother whatsoever, you tell me straight away. Alright?"

Y/N smiled softly at her brother, pleased with the outcome of their conversation. "Alright," she whispered in agreement, reaching over to grab his hand.

"Thank you, Y/N." Tommy's voice broke through the silence, his sincerity as clear as day.

"We're going to be alright, Tom. One day, we won't have to worry about everyone being safe and warm in their beds. It might take some time, but we'll get there eventually."

Tommy nodded, almost imperceptibly, before slowly getting up to make his way to his own bed, only stopping to place a gentle kiss to his sister's forehead.

All they could do now was pray that Y/N would be right once again.

***

About a year later, their prayers were beginning to be answered.

Business at the betting shop was flourishing, and the Shelby's were gaining more respect by the day. It was all illegal, of course, but all that mattered to Tommy and Y/N was that enough money was rolling in to look after the family.

As Christmas drew nearer, their house was beginning to feel more like a home again for the first time since their mother passed. Fires roared in the hearth at night, they had finally been able to make the repairs that the house so desperately needed, and the family seemed to be happy.

The future looked brighter for the Shelby clan, and it was a sight that Y/N was overjoyed to have before her. Her plan had worked, the dark circles beneath Tommy's eyes were melting away and her Christmas present for him was finally ready.

Despite Tommy's arguments that she didn't need to stay on at the Garrison anymore, Y/N had decided to keep her job there. Surprisingly, she'd discovered that she was rather good at bar work and had been immensely satisfied when her brothers had entered the pub on one of their 'check-ups' on her to witness her chucking a couple of drunks out onto the street by the scruffs of their neck. Y/N liked earning her own money, rather than relying on Tommy, and it meant that no questions were asked about how she was spending it.

Most of her wages had gone towards Tommy's present, and Y/N could only hope that he liked it. The closer and closer that it got to the big day, the more Y/N began to doubt it. But she'd put too much work into it to turn back now.

She had decided against leaving it under the tree, not wanting anyone to be ridiculed for it, and instead kept it a secret in her room. So, on the night of the 25th, Y/N padded down the stairs to meet Tommy alone in the parlour.

"I thought you'd be in bed by now." Tommy was smiling up at her from his seat on the sofa.

"You know I'm always too excited at Christmas to get much sleep." Her brother rolled his eyes fondly at Y/N's reminder. "Anyway, I have one more present to give out."

Tommy's brows furrowed in confusion. "But we all opened your presents earlier, Y/N/N?"

"Yes, yes, I know – you don't need to make this any more embarrassing for me than it already is!."

The man in question chuckled, holding his hands up in surrender.

Y/N sat down next to her brother, and handed him the carefully wrapped package. "Happy Christmas, Tommy," she said, gently. As he began to open it, Y/N's nervous rambling automatically began. "Now, if you don't like it, just tell me. I won't be offended! I can find something else to do with it. It's not really your colours, now I think about it, and - "

"Y/N do you want me to open this or not?" Tommy snapped, but his eyes were full of fondness for his younger sister.

"Yes," Y/N replied, meekly.

Tommy pulled away the last of the wrapping to find a thick patchwork blanket, which was clearly handmade. Speechless at the thought and care put into the gift, he asked the only question that was running through his head: "Why?"

"I wanted to give you something special to say thank you for everything you've done for us since Mum died. Also, I'm not stupid, you know." At Tommy's confused expression, Y/N elaborated. "Nearly every morning before we got the house fixed up, I used to wake up with double the amount of blankets on top of me compared to how many I went to bed with. Your blankets, Tommy, when we barely had enough to share between us all in the first place. So I wanted to make you one myself that is yours and yours alone.

"You said to me once that we had nowhere to sleep at night that was safe and warm, but you created that place for us, for me. I know we've got plenty of blankets in the house now, but I just wanted to try and give you that same feeling of comfort that you gave to me." She stopped talking at that, suddenly aware of how long she had been going on for.

Tommy held the warm fabric in his hands, his thumb tracing the messy stitching which held each patch together, trying to blink away the tears glazing his eyes. "I love it, sweetheart. Thank you."

A relieved smile lit Y/N's face, but it was quickly replaced by a loud yawn. She gently rested her head on Tommy's shoulder as she curled her legs up on the sofa, and he wrapped his arm around her.

"Happy Christmas, Tom," Y/N mumbled sleepily.

"Happy Christmas, Y/N/N," Tommy replied with a smile.

Moments later, Y/N's breathing had evened out and she had fallen into a deep slumber. Tommy's eyes flitted between her sleeping form and the beautiful blanket on his knee.

Maybe he could share his blanket with his sister just one more time...

#smallheathgangsters1kcelebration #peaky blinders #tommy shelby #shelby sister #peaky blinders imagine #peaky blinders sister #peaky blinders x sister!reader #tommy shelby x sister reader #tommy shelby x sister!reader #tommy shelby x reader #shelby!reader #shelby sis #shelby!sister

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pennylanefics · 3 years

Text

With the Wrong Man - Isaiah Jesus

a/n: this is really long oops. no ones ever responded to my question, but i’m gonna continue writing for him, even tho they’re not super popular. i love him sm

•••

Your relationship with your boyfriend Christopher was...rough. You two met after things ended between you and your ex-boyfriend, Isaiah.

You two cared for each other a lot, but Isaiah’s dad told you to break things off because you weren’t a girl who he “saw being with his son.”

It was a very difficult time, you missed Isaiah dearly; he was your first love. So, you left Birmingham to get away from it all. And that’s when you met Christopher. The problem was you were still so in love with Isaiah.

You thought about him all the time after you left, wondering if he had a girlfriend, or if he thought about you as well. Every day, you wished that a letter for you would come, detailing how much he longed for you and how he wished you stayed together. But nothing came.

Now, you were back in Birmingham with Chris, visiting your parents for a little while, and you were dreading it. At this point, you had moved on from Isaiah, moved on from the idea that you were never going to be with him anymore. But, you knew you were going to run into him at some point.

“So this is where you grew up?” Chris asks with a hint of disgust in his voice. You raise your eyebrows at him as he looks around the dingy city.

“Yeah. Something wrong?” He shrugs and looks back down at you.

“Just not what I was expecting.” You scoff under your breath. That was something you always butted heads about; the way you grew up. Chris grew up in a preppy, proper town, while you grew up in Small Heath.

It was obvious the differences between the two of you, but he was sweet overall, so that’s why you stayed with him.

“I told you what it was like. I didn’t have courtyards to play in, I played in alleyways and got into trouble.” This upset him every time you brought it up. He didn’t like the fact that you were a troublemaker and spent time with Finn, who’s related to the Peaky Blinders.

“I may have grown up here, but I’m no longer like that. And you should know.” He shakes his head and you two continue walking, you end up dropping his hand from yours.

You finally get back home from the shops and step inside, immediately being greeted by your parents getting ready to leave.

“Where are you guys going?” You ask, setting your bags down on the floor.

“The Garrison. We thought a night out would be nice before tomorrow.” Your eyebrows furrowed together at them.

“What’s tomorrow?” You wonder in confusion. Your parents look between one another but push it off as they have a surprise dinner planned. Well, not much of a surprise dinner aymore. You were still suspicious.

“Uh, okay. Let’s get going then.” You move the bags to the couch for now and follow your parents back outside and in the direction of the Garrison.

Upon arriving, you notice it’s not very crowded. That’s when you notice the Peaky Blinders gathering in the corner. Your heart begins to race as you glance over the group, and your eyes finally land on him.

Isaiah.

He looked very different than when you saw him last. His lips were fuller, his head was shaved beside the top of it, his face was more mature and older looking. He is still as handsome as you remember, though.

For the time being, you stay with your family, as to not raise any wonders about where you ran off to and them possibly seeing you with him. Your parents knew you were dating him at the time, and though they weren’t very accepting of the idea, since he was starting to get involved with the Peaky Blinders, you ignored them. Unfortunately, he couldn’t ignore his father.

You take a seat in a booth, your parents across from you and Chris. You also had the perfect view of Isaiah, who sadly hadn’t noticed you yet. You wanted nothing more than to run over there and fall into his arms.

Seeing him again, all of your feelings came back. All of your memories with him, secret dates, spending nights in his room before his father found out, the kisses you shared, his words of love and admiration. You were just hoping he felt the same.

Drinks were served and you wanted to get drunk so bad. But, you were an emotional drunk, so you knew you would say something about seeing Isaiah again. So, you stuck to just a couple drinks for now.

After a while, you could tell Chris was having a great time with your parents, but you were so consumed by your thoughts.

“What’s wrong, (Y/N)?” Your mother asks, noticing your absence from the conversation.

“Nothing. Just feeling tired. I’m gonna go to the bathroom really quick.” You slide out of the booth with ease since you’re sitting on the end and make your way past the Peaky men, making eye contact with Isaiah. You give him a look, asking him to follow you, and walk into the bathroom. You wait a couple minutes before he slides in sneakily and locks the door.

“What the fuck are you doing here?!” He wonders in amazement, a playful tone in his voice. You giggle and fall into his arms, hugging him as close to you as possible.

“I missed you,” you whisper into his shoulder.

“I missed you as well, love. It’s so great seeing you again.” You two stay there for a few moments, tears falling down your cheeks at some point. When you pull away, Isaiah wipes them away for you tenderly.

“What are you doing back?”

“Just seeing my parents again.”

“That’s great. Who’s the, uh, man?” He asks. As he does, you feel his grip start to lessen a little, knowing the answer wouldn’t be good.

“My, uh, boyfriend.” He nods and backs away, seeing as you’re a woman in a relationship and it would be improper for him to be so close. Though you didn’t care. Your hands keep ahold of his as much as he tries to break away.

“Isaiah, I still love you,” you whisper, catching his attention.

“Why? You’re with another man, you seem to have your life planned out.” More tears well up in your eyes and your head shakes in response.

“No. I don’t. I’m not in love with Christopher. I mean, in a way I am, but not as much as I loved you.”

“We can’t…” His words broke your heart. “I can’t get in between a relationship. If I were him, and I had you, I would hate for another guy to just swoop in and steal you from me.”

“It’s not like that, Isaiah. I swear I-”

“(Y/N), it’s in the past, I’m afraid.” You were crying quietly at this point, trying to get him to stay and listen.

“Please, don’t do this, Isaiah. After seeing you and hugging you, I realize what I want.”

“I can’t let that happen. You should move on from me. Be with him, have a family with him.” And with that, Isaiah unlocked the door and walked out, leaving you a sobbing mess.

All of your dreams were shattered within minutes. Isaiah was the man you wanted to be with, but he didn’t want to be with you. Or technically, he didn’t want you to break things off with Christopher.

Once you reapply your makeup and regain your posture, you walk out, noticing Isaiah isn’t there anymore. Your heart drops a bit more as you rejoin your family, much more distant and sad than before.

“Are you sure you’re alright? We can leave if you want?” Chris whispers in your ear. Sighing softly, you nod and look up at him.

“I’m sorry. I saw an old friend and they, uh, they weren’t as happy to see me,” you tell him sadly. He puts an arm around you, but you shrug it off. You don’t want anyone’s arms around you unless it’s Isaiah.

Shortly after, you and Chris head home, leaving your parents to stay out and drink for a little. Once home, you head right to bed, leaving Chris confused and wondering what happened.

The following day was stressful and hard. You woke up, exhausted and still heartbroken from last night, spending all morning in bed, not eating any breakfast. Chris ends up dragging you out of bed for lunch, and that’s when things are revealed.

“Honey, who’s the friend that you saw? And why is it affecting you so much?” You shake your head at your mother’s question, not wanting to tell her.

“It was just an old friend I saw all the time while going to the Garrison. I don’t really want to talk about it.”

“It wasn’t Isaiah was it?” Your eyes dart up so quick, you were scared it was maybe too quick to be suspicious.

“Why would it matter if it was?”

“Because you know we don’t like him, being involved in that Peaky Blinder shit.” You scoff and drop your fork, standing from the table and going to your room.

“Darling?” Chris’s soft voice sounds through the room minutes later. “Who’s Isaiah?”

“He’s my ex-boyfriend. I dated him before I left Birmingham. I loved him, and after I saw him, he wasn’t too happy to see me. I guess all of our memories together didn’t mean as much to him as they did to me.” Chris takes a seat next to you as you explain, very vaguely, why you are upset. It wasn’t a total lie, but you obviously left the part out where you confessed your love for him.

“I’m sure he remembers it, but he may have moved on and found someone he loves.” You nod in agreement, trying to make yourself forget what happened. Though it was impossible.

“I guess. I just haven’t seen him in so long and was so excited to see him again.”

“That’s understandable. But, I’m going to treat you to a lovely dinner tonight at a really nice restaurant down the street, so how about you relax for the rest of the day, until we have to get ready. And wear something nice, yeah?” He kisses your forehead and stands up to walk out, leaving you alone with your thoughts once more.

The time leading up to dinner was dreadful. Chris spent time with your parents while you stayed in your room, writing in your journal to clear your thoughts.

In no time, you were sat across from Chris at The Royal Dome, the fanciest restaurant in Small Heath. You felt very out of place, this was not somewhere you would ever eat at, and you never have, not even when you lived here.

“It took me so long to get these reservations,” Chris admits, reaching across the table for your hand. Hesitantly, you take it and smile softly.

“It’s very nice, but I feel a bit underdressed.” You had worn simple nightwear, something similar to what you wore out to the Garrison last night. Everyone else was dressed sophisticated, proper. You didn’t belong here.

“I think you look amazing. So amazing, actually.” Chris stands and reaches into his jacket pocket, and kneels down, producing a beautiful ring in a box.

“Oh my god,” you breathe out. Chris smiles as his hands shake slightly.

“(Y/N) (Y/L/N), will you marry me?” You were speechless. And in that moment, you knew what you wanted.

“(Y/N)?” Chris breaks you from your daze. “What do you say?” You could feel so many people’s eyes on you, waiting for you to scream out yes and fall into his arms like a romantic film.

“No,” you whisper. Chris’s face falls immediately and he slowly closes the box. “I can’t.” You are up and running out of the restaurant within seconds, heading straight towards the Garrison. Tears were clouding your eyes but you made it.

Everyone stared at you as you burst through the door. It was empty aside from the Peaky men.

“Sorry love, Garrison is closed for the night,” Harry tells you from behind the bar.

“I’m here for Isaiah,” you say confidently. No one moves, no one says a word. Your heart is beating out of your chest, scared that Isaiah somehow moved on within a day.

“(Y/N)?” Isaiah stands up from next to Michael, a confused expression on his face. “What are you doing here?”

“I still love you, Isaiah. And I know you may not still love me, but I do. Seeing you yesterday brought so many memories and feelings back, and I can’t get you out of my head. Everytime Chris kisses me or holds me, I wish it was you. I wish you were the one proposing to me moments ago, I wish you-”

“He proposed to you?”

“He did. But I said no. I don’t want to marry him. I want you. I’ve always wanted you, Isaiah.” You were sobbing as you spoke, ready to fall to the ground in defeat.

As you were expecting, your knees buckled and you fell to the ground. Isaiah was by your side in seconds, his arms wrapping around you, making your heart soar.

“Shh, shh. Come on, let’s go to a private room.” He helps you up and guides you over to the room in the corner, locking it once you were in. Taking a seat, you keep your eyes on your lap.

“Now tell me what the hell happened?” You take a deep breath before beginning.

“He took me to The Royal Dome down the street, and I couldn’t help but feel so out of place. I didn’t belong in that lifestyle, I hate the posh, perfect, proper lifestyle that Chris grew up with. He hates that I grew up here and didn’t grow up with a fancy courtyard and posh things. We are so different people and I guess I never realized that until I was sitting in front of him there.”

“He proposed, you said?”

“Yeah. I said no.”

“Why?” That’s when you look up.

“I’ve made it clear, Isaiah. I don’t know what more you want me to say. I love you, I think about you all the time, and I know your dad doesn’t want us together, but I can’t help it.” It’s silent for a moment as he takes this information in.

“Why’d you stay with him?” He asks.

“He took my mind off things. I was with him for the wrong reasons. He was the first guy I met after moving away, and I guess I just stuck with him because he helped me through my breakup, unknowingly.”

“Do you love him as much as you love me?” GIggling, you look right into his eyes.

“Do you think that if I loved him, I would be here right now? Declining his proposal and fighting to get you back?” This makes him laugh as well, slightly breaking the tension of the room.

“I suppose. So, where do we go from here?”

“It’s in your hands. I’ve admitted my feelings many times, I’ve stated what I wanted. I’m just not sure if you want the same. And I guess it’ll be fine either way.” Isaiah stares at you as you twiddle your fingers nervously. Truth is, he still felt the same. But after hearing you were in a relationship, he backed off, knowing your parents wouldn’t approve of you getting back together with him.

“Let’s run away,” he finally says. Your head shoots up and your eyes widen.

“What?”

“You and me. Let’s run away. We can ask Tommy to let us stay at his place for a little while until we find somewhere to live together. I want to be with you.” A huge smile crosses your lips and you are up out of your seat and in his lap.

“I fucking love you,” you mumble against his lips as you kiss him. He chuckles and stands, leaving the room with you.

Soon enough, you and Isaiah are taking a town car to Tommy’s manor, with none of your belongings, nothing to your names, just the two of you.

Tommy’s maids helped you get settled in a guest room after you enjoyed a nice dinner they made. Since you didn’t really have clothes, you chose to sleep naked with one another, something you missed doing with him. He was always warm and his skin soft like silk, it was comforting.

“I can’t believe only hours ago, I was being proposed to,” you whisper, running your finger over his bare chest. He catches it and brings it up to his lips, pressing soft kisses to your fingertips.

“I know. I’m glad we’re finally together. No parents, no other relationships, just us.”

A smile spreads across your face and you close your eyes, imagining your future with the love of your life.

“Just us, my love.”

#isaiah jesus #isaiah jesus imagines #isaiah jesus imagine #isaiah jesus x reader #peaky blinders fic #imagines #fanfiction #fanfic

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spaceorphan18 · 3 years

Text

99 Perspectives on a Single Love Story #36

A/N: The Story of Kurt and Blaine told through the eyes of everyone else but them. Each chapter is a different perspective in the ongoing tale of their love story.

I started something like this a while back - and now I’m taking the idea and really running with it. Each chapter is a ficlet of a different character at a different point in Kurt and Blaine’s life - documenting their love story. This starts in Audition, and each chapter will be paired with a different episode until reaching Dreams Come True.

[Ao3]

***

Hiram and LeRoy Berry (On My Way)

It had been cute but somewhat alarming when the idea of Rachel and Finn’s marriage first came to their attention. But a month has gone by, and for as much as they suggested to postpone it, Rachel is still a Berry. And Berrys are headstrong and ambitious. It’s not surprising that she’ll push on through to get what she wants. It doesn’t mean that either Hiram or LeRoy are happy about it though. Finn Hudson is a good kid. His mother is good people. And someday, possibly after Rachel has her Tony, it would be a nice present for herself to nab a permanent piece of man candy.

But honestly. She could have waited. If not for herself then at least for her dads who have now dug a hole so deep with the positivity around the marriage they can not utterly see a way out.

There are wedding preparation materials all over the dining room table. Bridal magazine, fabric swatches, plates of various sweets and cupcakes. This little game is becoming frightening real all too quickly. Rachel’s at the table, chattering away with her friends Kurt Hummel and Blaine Anderson (the latter of whom they have just recently met - and whom they both agree is a delightful young man). But the reality of the situation is - this wedding is now happening way quicker than it should be. And if they can’t convince Rachel to back out - maybe her friends can help.

As Rachel takes a bathroom break, Hiram and LeRoy jump on the chance to join the kids at the table.

“So, uh, so this is coming along nicely,” Hiram says, conversationally, pointing around at the piles on the table.

“Rachel’s going to make an exquisite bride,” Blaine says, cooing over a page in a bridal gown magazine with a post-it note that reads ‘maybe’ on it.

“She isn’t she?” LeRoy says, forcing a smile as he looks at the magazine. “But you know what, if she really wants this dress -- I think a fall wedding might be a better match. The color scheme is all wrong in spring.”

“Yes, yes, that’s right - we wouldn’t want the color scheme to be wrong for our baby girl’s big day,” Hiram agrees. “You know what might be better than a fall wedding? A fall of 2024 wedding.”

“Yes!” LeRoy agrees quickly. “Fall of 2024. I hear it’s supposed to be a good year.”

“The Plaza Hotel might have an opening in the Fall of 2024,” Hiram adds. “LeRoy, check to see if The Plaza Hotel has an availability in 2024. We should book that now. Wouldn’t want to lose out on such a location.”

Kurt seems to understand where this is going. Blaine does not.

“See, Blaine, I told you -- we really need to wait until we’re thirty,” Kurt says, turning towards Blaine, as if this is something he’s said many times before. Blaine rolls his eyes at Kurt.

Both LeRoy and Hiram pause -- as it hits them that they have a couple of young gays in front of them. They look fondly at each other, and then at Kurt and Blaine.

“So, so, uh, are the two of you, uh, the two of you together?” Hiram asks, a grin on his face.

“We are,” Blaine says proudly, grabbing Kurt’s hand.

“And planning to get married?” Hiram asks. And then a devastating thought enters his brain. “Oh god, oh god, oh god, please tell me you don’t want to have a double wedding. I cannot afford a double wedding.” He points directly at Kurt. “Your dad with this excellent lube shop cannot afford a double wedding.”

“Calm down, Hiram, I’m sure they’re not going to crash any weddings any time soon,” LeRoy says, waving a dismissive hand at him.

“Someday, we’d like to get married,” Blaine admits, looking adoringly at Kurt.

Kurt grins at him, but he’s more held back. “But not yet. We want to be ready.”

“Good because marriage is terrible,” Hiram says unexpectedly. “And you should tell Rachel that.”

“Hiram, c’mon,” LeRoy says, tilting his head at his husband. “How often to we come across a young, gay couple in Ohio? Let’s not discourage them.”

“Well, we shouldn’t be encouraging them either. We are, after all, responsible adults.”

“True,” LeRoy agrees. “But marriage isn’t as awful as you’re making it sound.”

“Oh, well yes, yes,” Hiram says, thinking it over. “It, uh, it starts out all, uh, all rainbows and glitter but then you wake up one day and you have a mortgage you’ll be paying into your eighties and a partner who believes Velveeta is an acceptable cheese substitute.”

“It was one dish,” LeRoy argues. “And how many times have I told you -- you don’t like what I cook, you can cook yourself.”

“Oh, no no no no no,” Hiram wiggles a finger at him. “You said, LeRoy, you said as part of our marriage vows that I would never have to cook. Do you remember our marriage vows, LeRoy, they were sacred.” He then turns to Kurt and Blaine. “I do, however, make a good French Toast. Kurt, you’ve never been over on a Sunday morning for one of our Brunch and Broadway meals, it is the talk of the town.”

“They are exquisite,” LeRoy agrees.

Blaine looks up to them with wide eyes. “They sound delightful.”

“Don’t encourage them, Blaine…” Kurt says, leaning over to whisper in Blaine’s ear.

“So, now, where were we? Oh, right. Teen marriage,” Hiram says. “Not a good idea”

“Not a good idea, right,” LeRoy agrees.

Hiram continues. “And maybe, maybe maybe, since the two of you are teens -- a delightful teen couple who is not getting married. Maybe the two of you might want to mention they should wait.”

There’s an awkward pause, as Kurt and Blaine aren’t sure what to say to that.

“I told them from day one that they should wait,” Kurt finally admits.

“But they’re so in love, Kurt,” Blaine argues, as if it’s not the first time the two of them have had this conversation. “Do you really want to get in the way of that?”

“No, right, right, right, but listen to your partner, Blaine,” Hiram says, excitedly. “Kurt is right. You can be in love when you’re older. In fact, it’s a lot better when you’re older. You’ll have jobs and careers and your own piano rooms. And a much better idea as to whether or not your partner is, in fact, a bit crazy.”

“Oh, I’m crazy now, huh” LeRoy is aghast at the low blow.

“Well, I mean, your crazy idea is what got us in this mess in the first place,” Hiram points out.

“Yes, it was my idea to be supportive,” LeRoy says defensively, “And hopefully let her come to her own decision. But if you really want to play the blame game -- let me remind you that you were the one who wanted to have a child in the first place. So, technically, this is all your fault.”

“Well, I just wanted to impart wisdom on a small being in the hopes that I could produce someone just as magical as I am.”

“And you think I’m the crazy one.”

At that moment, Rachel comes out of the bathroom. “Dads, hi, what are you guys talking about?”

“Nothing honey,” LeRoy says, pulling her to sit on his lap.

“We were, uh, we were just talking about how ravishing you’re going to be on your big day,” Hiram covers, picking up one of the magazines. Rachel coos.

As Hiram, LeRoy, and Rachel start discussing the wedding, they fail to notice Kurt and Blaine lean into each other.

“Do you think some day we’ll be like them?” Blaine asks, looking adoringly at Rachel’s dads.

Kurt shakes his head in disbelief. “God, I hope not....”

#s.o. writes things #99 perspectives #late friday night is not the most ideal time to post this - but I wanted to get it done before the weekend #cause i won't be around

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lightsaberupmybutt · 3 years

Text

Three’s a Crowd - Reader/Ben Solo/Poe Damerson (Modern AU)

alright so Ben/Kylo is a big ego kid in this, because of course. Also, Rey is ACTUALLY Lukes daughter in this, making them cousins. Ive fiddled with the plot okay sue me.

Summary: Poe, Finn and their roommate have been living in a harmonious tenancy, but when Finn decides to move out for a year of travelling, the two are left with no option but to look elsewhere for their third body. Rey Skywalker, a friend of the group, proposes her cousin for the role. He's in a band, wears all black and all in all is somewhat of a social reject - but he's also all theyve got.

“I think that one was actually somehow worse than last weeks” You tell Poe, as he pours himself a juice and settles down next to you on the sofa. You'd just finished showing around another possible roommate and you felt exhausted in every sense of the word.

“How can he be worse than the neo nazi?” Poe shot you an unbelieving look and rolled his eyes, kicking his feet up onto the coffee table and knocking some of your papers in his wake.

“Alex was a she, and they asked if they could hang their deer head in the front room” you grimaced even thinking about it, weren't all artsy college students supposed to be vegetarians anyway? why did you have to get saddled with the only blood thirsty one on campus.

“Thats not so bad”

“Poe she showed me a picture of her taxidermied cat”

“Oh”

You had tried to find a polite way to stop her from passing you her phone, but you were too nice to make her feel uncomfortable, and now the image of the long dead tabby would remain behind your eyes for god knows how long.

“was she hot?” You shook your head, causing Poe to sigh wistfully.

“Not hot enough to cancel out her obsession with dead bodies anyway” you informed him, the hopeful look from his eyes gone.

“Face it Poe, were doomed” You let your head fall into your hands, Poe letting out a laugh before wrapping his arm around your shoulder.

“Hey we’ll get someone! who wouldn't want to live here?” You knew his question was rhetorical but when looking around the cleaner than usual flat, you had to admit it was missing something. Bare spaces on the walls from where Finn had taken down his pictures, the empty side of the kitchen counter that had once houses his overpriced coffees. You even missed picking up his empty cups after him, the room feeling like it had less character without them. It truly hadn't felt the same in the flat since Finn had left, and although Poe concealed it well, you could see it was getting to him too. Poe had, after all, known Finn first; Finn managing to get a very drunk and outspoken Poe out of a sticky situation he had found himself in when running across a local gang in a dive bar. The ‘first order’ as they so called themselves, had an infamous reputation around campus for being trouble makers and general doers of bad deeds. Ever since that night they had been an unstoppable duo, until they met you of course, and their duo became three.

You loved Finn, and you knew told miss him like hell, but you also knew that Poe must be feeling that ten times over.

“You wanna do something tonight?” You asked, changing the subject before his mind drifted to where yours had.

“what kind of something?” he wiggled his eyebrows suggestively,

“Gross”

“hey I'm serious!”

“what about Razor Crest, they are open late, we could grab some drinks and meet up with some people”

Razor crest was the only worth while bar in town; it was certainly nothing to write home about, but it played fairly decent music and it had a marginally less sticky floor than others. Additionally, your other friends lived just over from the humble saloon, making it the perfect watering hole for you guys.

It didn't take much convincing before you had Poe out the door and ready to socialise. Upon arrival, he headed to the bar while you were waved over by Rey, who had already found a booth and was already at least a few drinks in.

“Look, i think i have a solution to your roomie problemo” She told you, peeking over her straw, a gleam in her eye that made you feel not all too confident in her yet to be spoken plan.

“Go on” you told her, cautiously.

“My cousins back in town” She told you between gulps.

“The weird one?” You asked,

“Hes not weird, just ...eccentric” the last word was more of a question, but you could tell she was on a roll,

“He's just joined one of the college bands and Auntie Leia says him and Uncle Han are butting heads”

“ah cool, weve always wanted live music in our own flat at 2 am” Poe injected, rejoining the table and placing a drink in front of you before taking a sip of his own.

“hes not BAD at it, he just plays loud i think” She corrected him, “anyway, he's not a total twat, I'm sure he would be considerate of your sleep schedules”

“didn't he try and stab you with a stick when you were five” you asked her, you'd heard stories of this cousin before and none of them were quite savoury,

“that was ages ago! he's like way old now” she was starting to slur her words, but you had a feeling this was something Rey was quite set on. Rey was stubborn, and when she got something in mind she would move hell to make it happen; she was also your best friend, and someone you trusted the judgment off. Had she gotten you into some weird shit in the past? sure.

Did you have any other options; nay on that.

“Fine, get Han or Leia to bring him round at some point next week and one of us will give him a tour” You tell her, and she lets out a little happy shrill at her own personal win. Poe, not so much.

“Speak for yourself, weirdo cousin can see himself around” he crosses his arms and pouts, you give him a little nudge.

“Hey, maybe you'll be best mates” you offer, but when he shoots you a death stare you go back to your drink.

The family turmoil must have been more vicious than Rey had let in on; It was barely the next morning before you had a tall, intimidating male knocking on your door.

“Hey!” you offered him, in as cheery a voice as your hung over self would allow.

He looked down at you from his towering height, but gave no verbal response.

“You must be Ben?...” He offered you the slightest nod you'd had ever seen in response. Okay so, not much of a talker, noted.

You waved him in, shutting the door behind him. God, he looked even bigger inside? is that possible? Rey had failed to mention the sheer height on the boy. You'd seen pictures of her and her aunt and uncle, it seemed like Ben was a scientific and biological mystery. Like how did he get clothes to fit? did he have to shop somewhere special or

you were snapped out of your thoughts by a clearing of a throat.

“So, how much is the rent” so he DID have a voice,

You informed him automatically, still part dazed.

“Ill be in by the weekend” he told you, and with a nod he moved past you, making his way back to the door.

“But wait .. y .. you haven't even seen your room yet?” You stumbled, dumbfound by the lack of foreplay. The previous people you had shown around were full of questions; they wanted to know the ins and outs of the place. Ben had seen all of the door way and the front room and he was already signing the lease.

“See you then” he didn't stop, hand on the door knob as if you hadn't spoken.

“But i don't have your phone number” you don't know why that came to you first, but it was true. At no point had Rey offered you direct contact with Ben, probably assuming he would. It seemed reasonable, that you'd need his number before he moved in, didn't it? Poe was always texting you about random shit in the flat, arguably too much, but it seemed like the norm for people coexisting in such a small space.

He turned back at you and gave you a confused look,

“why would you need my number?”

“erm... to talk to you” your condescending tone not completely masked,

“but ill be living here” he stated, which, he had you there.

Before you could even think of a response he was out the door.

True to his word, Ben had his things over by that very same weekend. Although it was unsurprising considering just how light he packed. In fact, other than his bass and musical equipment, you couldn't really think of anything he had actually brought with him to the flat. You got to meet his parents when they dropped him off, both of whom seemed leaps and bounds more conversational than their son. Ironically, you got Leia’s phone number before her sons; her telling you to message if you ever needed anything. It felt like an indirect jab at Ben, a ‘if he fucks up let me know’, but you digress. The tension between Ben and his dad was blatantly obvious, them sharing no words before he got back into the car and Ben into the house. He did give his mum a small hug goodbye though, and you thought you saw a small tear in her eye before she managed to wipe it away.

Since his move in, Ben had kept painfully to himself. You barely saw him at all in those first days, just heard him through the walls the odd time he dropped something - or saw a plate or cup gone from their places in the kitchen. To be honest , it felt more like a paranormal haunting than a new roommate. Poe was vocal of his apprehension to the situation, sharing glances with you when you would both be in the living room and you'd see ben scurry by or passive aggressively texting you when his favourite cup had been used by someone who wasn't him. it was a relatively small issue, but Poe had blown it so out of proportion that you had ordered a new set of cups from Amazon and sent him the link, shutting him up for a while before he found something else to complain about.

it was the fifth day before you actually bumped into ben again. He was on the sofa with his base set up, twiddling with his amp. The sight surprised you so much you physically jumped back, causing him to look up. crap. act cool. act cool.

“hey” you offered him

“hi” hi replied back, looking back down at his amp.

right, yer. his space, give him his space. Just get your stuff and go back to your room. don't speak to him, leave him alone. he clearly wants to be left alone.

“nice day isn't it” you wanted to cover your mouth, the words coming out against your will. Truthfully, you had no clue why you said it. You hadn't even looked at the weather this morning. Its just what people say right?

“Erm” his eyes shot to the window and then back to yours,”no”

sure enough, it was pissing it down outside. The sky was actually comically grey and you'd have laughed if you werent so angry at yourself. You were unsure of what to do, and he was still looking at you, almost assessing you. His eyes were so serious and dark they felt like they were burning tiny holes into your skin. shit, you had to speak now right?

While regretting every single life decision that had brought you into this kitchen at this time, Poe sauntered into the room like your night in shining armour, ignoring Ben all together and coming straight over to you, placing a big arm around your shoulders. You saw Ben drop his head back down to this bass, and you used all your might to not let out a sigh of relief.

“Tonight, I'm taking you out” He offered, a cheeky gleam in his eye.

“Are you now”

“Razor crest, drinks and dancing, be there or be square” He lists off as if he's a paid promoter, causing you to let out a giggle.

“Whos invited?”

“just the gang” he said, causing you to shoot him an eye roll, knowing full well you ‘gang’ consisted of all of three people, yourself and Poe included in that number.

but then you remembered, there was another person now, whether they liked it or not. Poe’s eyes followed yours to Ben and then back to meet yours again, you saw the realisation change to disgust, as he shook his head silently at you.

you knew this look, the ‘don't you dare’ look, the ‘not in 1000 years’ look. But you couldn't help it, your lips were moving before you could stop them for the second time this morning.

“Are you free tonight, Ben?’

The look of sheer betrayal on Poe's face made you wince, surely he'd understand right? he knew you well enough to know your verbal diarrhoea problem.

Ben didn't even look up, but he did let out a small laugh that felt quite antagonistic.

“i dont go to Razor Crest”

“i don't go to razor crest ugh” Poe mocked, causing Rey to let out a hysterical giggle, and you a sigh.

You'd been out for all of three hours and you were all already feeling the effects of the alcohol. It was late and the bar was jam packed with students all raring to go. Poe had been making eyes at one particular red head almost all night and you were half surprised he hadn't already made his move. Poe put out, it was a fact. You and Finn had at one time made a fridge chart for him, a gold star awarded every time he brought girl home. Whether the goal was to make him feel proud of his conquests or embarrassed, you still weren't 100% sure, but after a month or so you had both lost count and given up. You told yourself it didn't bother you, that he was just a friend, and that he owed you nothing, but every time he left you at the bar for another girl something stung inside; something you pushed deep down but regrettably was still there none the less.

Sure enough, as the night progressed, you and Rey ended up fending for it alone, and instead of feeling sorry for yourself you decided to do the responsible thing and drink more.

After the third round of shots, Rey calls it in.

“I think I'm gonna be sick” she tells you sheepishly, and you can't help but belly laugh in response. She starts to shuffle towards the door and you go to follow.

“Hey don't leave on my behalf” she tells you earnestly, but you wave her off.

“Nah I've had my fill, I'm starting to forget which flat number i live at” you tell her, causing her to giggle this time.

You both stumble out the bar, past the smokers and up the cobbled road towards her flat. She unlocks her door and lets herself in, not before giving you a drunken hug and a sloppy kiss on the cheek.

As you ready yourself to make your way back to your own flat, you come back past the bar entrance; a particularly prominent cobble causes you to trip ever so slightly and gain a whoop from a group of boys who were passing round a box of marlboro straights.

You suddenly realised just how dark it was and just how alone you were. Most nights you wouldn't stay out this late, and if you did, then you'd normally be walking back with finn. You let out a shiver, a mix of both the cold night air finally breaking through your drunken daze and a smidge of fear. The Razor Crests entrance lights were getting progressively further away, and although you know that you only had a maximum of a half mile walk back to your home, it felt like ample distance to get kidnapped or murdered in, most probably both.

How many true crime stories started with a young drunk girl, scantily clad and out alone at night? You could hear the police reports now, which photo would they use? you prayed it would be a hot one, at the very least one after your thin brow phase.

Being literally bumped back into reality, in almost a cruel humorous way, you felt yourself walk head first into a figure, their arms coming out to catch you as the sheer momentum bounced you back.

Oh god, I'm dead. I'm literally going to die.

“Hey, chill out” The voice made your heart beat both slow and race again,

“Ben?!” you shrieked, voice hoarse through pure anticipation of your thought to be demise

“Are you okay” he asked, and only then did you realise you were shaking like a leaf.

“Im fine” you let out in a small voice, looking down at your shoes. You could feel the redness in your cheeks through pure embarrassment alone. This was not an ideal situation for him to see you in, and you kind of started to with that he had been a murderer, at least then you wouldn't have to deal with the second hand embarrassment in the morning.

“What are you doing out here”

“why are you out alone”

you both asked simultaneously,

“I was coming out for a smoke” He told you, flashing his tobacco pouch at you from inside his coat. His very warm looking coat, might you add. Another shiver ran down your body.

“Im coming home from Razor Crest” you tell him, trying to be matter of fact but slurring your words just enough to spoil the show.

“Yes obviously, but why are you alone” he shoots back in some what of a patronising tone, it wouldn't sit well with sober you and it definitely doesn't go down well with drunk you.

“Im a big girl”

“clearly” he makes, making extra sure to look you up and down from his towering distance above you, causing you to huff.

“well i can take care of myself”

“you shouldn't be out alone around here, its not safe” he ignores your response, looking you dead in the eye.

You feel something inside you flutter, a warmth that you can't quite control. Okay, ben might be weird and a bit annoying it would seem, but he was handsome, thats for sure. The limited light danced off his strong features and dark shaggy mop of hair, making him look both dangerous and appealing.

As if you were standing here mentally flirting with the idea of being with Res cousin; you made a mental note to punish yourself for the ludicrous thoughts in the morning.

“Okay well I'm going home now” you tell him, attempting to push past him, but his large hand finds its way to your forearm and pulls you back,

“yes, you are, come on” If what he said before was patronising, he was now speaking to you like you were a dog he was walking.

“go have your nicotine, ive got this one covered” you tell him with a mock salute, causing him to roll his eyes. He lets go of your arm and you take your win, trying to step confidently away without falling. You're proud of yourself for handling the situation when you realise he's following all of 10 steps behind you, rolling a cigarette in his hands while holding a filter between his teeth.

when he catches you looking, he nods down to his hands,

“want one?” he mumbles between his lips, still holding the filter pride of place.

“no thanks” you snap, picking up pace.

Ben smirks at you, but you miss it, too focused on not embarrassing yourself and keeping your feet in line.

#Star Wars #Star Wars imagine #star wars modern au #kylo ren #kylo ren imagine #kylo ren x reader #Ben solo #ben solo x reader #ben solo x y/n #poe dameron #poe dameron x reader

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gmariam19 · 3 years

Text

Hello! I hit one of those follower milestones that we all like to grin about - thank you! I decided to share something to go with the last moodboard I posted, a story I started ages ago but that stalled out at chapter five. The opening is below, and I'm hoping I can get it going again and post it sometime this fall. I'm sure a few details will change, and I do hope to finish some shorter stories before then. But in the meantime, I hope you enjoy it - thanks for reading! :)

One

Poe already misses the ranch.

It’s been months since he's been home, seen his dad, even had a day off. Spending five days on Yavin 4 is exactly what he needed. He feels relaxed and recharged, ready to resume the job of co-General. He's fairly sure he's gained weight from all the eating and drinking they did, but that was what home was for him: koyo fruit and dark caf, roasted runyip steaks with kibla greens and sweetsand cookies for dessert. He hasn't eaten so well for months, maybe years.

Finn looks fairly content as well. Poe had been nervous about the trip, but it was past time to introduce Finn to Kes Dameron. Poe couldn't remember the last time he'd brought someone home, and he'd been a wreck until the moment his father had stepped forward, raised an eyebrow at Finn's outstretched hand, and pulled him into a tight embrace. Kes's eyes had been bright, and Poe had almost choked up; Finn had been stunned at the warm welcome.

Everything had been perfect after that. In fact, maybe a little too good as Poe had been ganged up on more than once by Finn and his father. But to watch them together, talking, laughing, even cooking (though Finn was a disaster of a cook, so he usually ended up doing the washing) was a joy. It made Poe want a life like that more than anything—a quiet life with someone he loved, near friends and family. It was what peace looked like.

Of course, he would probably be bored after a month, but he could still think about it, couldn't he?

For now, there is still work to do, and part of Poe's plan in flying out to see his dad had been to make a few stops on the way back. The first is Torque, a quick jump from Yavin 4. It isn't the nicest spaceport in the sector, but it's the capital and it’s busy, which means they can blend in and listen, get a feel for what’s going on outside their immediate circle. Finn is meeting with one of Vi Moradi's people to exchange news, someone he'd met on Batuu who happened to be passing through the sector, while Poe is meeting with one of Grakkus the Hutt's pilots for a brief, off-the-record meeting on conditions in Hutt space.

Poe walks to a cantina not far from the landing pads on his own, his senses on high alert. He's in a dingy spaceport in the Outer Rim, a general of the Resistance who still has a large bounty on his head. Armed and aware, he notices immediately when he turns that the street he's on—more of an alley, really—is unusually quiet and empty. Perfect setup for an ambush.

He comms Finn. "I've got a bad feeling about this," he says as quietly as he can. "Good chance someone knows we’re here. Stay alert." Finn confirms the message. Poe unhooks his blaster, speeding up his pace. As he reaches the end of the alley, he senses a presence behind him, and feels a blaster in his back.

"Don't move," says a low voice, a familiar voice.

"Finn?" asks Poe. "What're you—"

The blaster pokes him hard in the ribs, so definitely not Finn (and they don't really play like that in public, anyway.) Poe glances over his shoulder to catch a glimpse of a tall, dark-skinned man, a bounty hunter by the looks of him, though he is close in size to Finn and certainly sounds similar.

"Hands up, blaster to me, then turn around slowly."

Poe raises both hands, discreetly tapping his comm twice as he does, and the hunter takes his blaster. Poe turns and finds himself facing his captor. He's dressed in a black flight suit, with a leather vest and boots lined in red, and he’s armed to the teeth. He's only an inch or two taller than Poe but almost two decades older, short hair and beard shot with grey and a prominent scar running from his temple to his jaw on his right side. He seems familiar, though Poe is almost certain they’ve never met before. Strangely enough, what stands out most are the man’s eyes: tired brown eyes that do not look like the cold, hard eyes of most bounty hunters Poe has met.

The man looks at him with a frown.

"What, not what you expected?" Poe asks. "I get that a lot. It's the hair."

The bounty hunter shakes his head as he pats Poe down, taking his second blaster and a knife. "It's the hair that makes you so recognizable, General," the man says. His voice really does sound like Finn, and his eyes…Poe shakes off the idea. "Maybe if you cut it, half a dozen hunters would stop looking for you."

"Only half a dozen?" Poe asks. "How disappointing. I remember when I was on top of everyone's list."

"Sorry, General," the man says, and there is a wry smile with the strangely apologetic words. "Peace is not as good for business."

"Maybe you need a new business," Poe suggests. He has a funny feeling about this grizzled bounty hunter, as if the man before him is nothing like the image he projects. He doesn't want to hurt this man but talk him out of whatever he’s got planned. Or at least talk long enough for Finn to get there.

"You're actually my last job," the man says, almost conversationally. "There's still people willing to pay good money for your head." He takes out a pair of binders and motions at Poe to lower his wrists. Poe leaves his hands up.

"What if I paid you more?" he asks, lowering his voice and moving closer. "And then we forget this ever happened?" He smiles, turning on the charm, but the man snorts at him, so much like Finn that it’s eerie.

"Lower your arms, General. You can't afford me."

Poe shrugs. "It was worth a try." He slowly lowers his wrists, taking another step closer. Just as the hunter is about to clamp them, he headbutts the older man, sliding a pocket blaster into his palm as he steps back and hits the man with a glancing blow in the arm. The hunter recovers quickly, though, and blasts him in the chest, sending Poe flying backward and into the side of the nearest building. He rolls over and groans, thankful it wasn't set to full stun—or kill. This hunter is even more unusual than Poe thought. The man stands over him and is about to speak when Poe hears the click of a blaster behind them.

"Drop it," says Finn. The hunter turns and shoots so fast Poe barely has a chance to shout a warning. But Finn has good instincts too: he ducks and pulls the blaster from the hunter's hands with his newest Force skill. The hunter looks at his gloved hand in surprise before he tries again with a second weapon, and Finn again slams it aside with the Force.

"I could do this all day," Finn says.

The hunter raises an eyebrow. "Then let’s forget the weapons." He charges Finn with raises fists and they start fighting hand to hand.

Poe drags himself to his hands and knees and slowly stands against the wall, hugging his right side with one hand and wiping blood from a cut on his temple with the other. He hit the building hard and will probably have some colorful bruises soon. He watches the fight for a moment as he recovers from the stun bolt: two highly skilled men, one much older than the other, yet still strong. Poe has the odd thought that it's a bit like watching Finn fight himself in thirty years.

It does not take long, however, for Finn to gain the upper hand and pin the man down, call a blaster to his hand, and press it to the man's neck.

"Yield!" he demands. The hunter got in a good hit and Finn's lip is bleeding, and he's clearly pissed off about it.

"Get off me!" the hunter snarls. "I yield."

"Finn," Poe calls, and tosses him the fallen binders. Finn clamps them behind the man's back and hauls the hunter to his feet.

"Who are you?" Finn demands, but the man looks away. Poe finally figures it out—the clothing, the scar, the stories, and he walks over, moving slowly and still holding his side.

"You're Tenga Idoma, aren't you?" he asks. "I've heard of you, didn't think you worked this side of the galaxy."

"A hunter goes where the bounty goes." The bounty hunter is standing tall and proud, a bruise forming on his left jaw, the wound on his arm small but red and raw.

"I'm the bounty," Poe stage-whispers to Finn, who rolls his eyes.

"Oh, you are both wanted men," Idoma says, laughing bitterly. "I figured I couldn't take you together, so I flipped a chip on who to follow first. I didn't think I'd get my ass handed to me by a former trooper if I followed the pilot."

Poe takes a step forward—always his instinctive response when someone refers to Finn as a Stormtrooper—but Finn stops him with a hand on Poe's arm. He's looking at the man curiously.

"Are you a former trooper, too?" Finn asks.

"I neverserved the First Order." The man spits in the street, so vehemently angry it earns a look of surprise from Finn. "They took everything from me."

"Then why are you tracking us down?" Poe asks. "We're fighting to make sure they don't ever do it again, you know."

The man shakes his head. "I told you, this is my last job. Then I'm done."

Finn looks to Poe with a shrug. "What should we do with him?" he asks.

Poe looks at the man, then back at Finn. The resemblance is almost uncanny. Something—his own instincts, or maybe the Force—prompts him to say, "Bring him with us." He turns to the bounty hunter. "You're under arrest."

"You can't arrest me!" Idoma exclaims, and struggles in his binders, grimacing with pain, but Finn holds tight.

"I'm a general, sure I can," says Poe. Which is not strictly true, but he needs more time with this man.

"What are we going to do with him?" Finn asks. "Why don't we turn him in to the authorities here?"

Poe thinks about what to say, how to say it. "I have some more questions for him," he says. "Come on, let's head back to the Falcon."

Finn looks both skeptical and curious as he comms Vi Moradi's man and explains the situation. Poe calls the pilot he was supposed to meet. The hunter moves reluctantly but does not put up a fight. It feels strange to be taking him in so easily, and Poe can’t help but wonder why—or if something is about to go massively wrong. He tries not to think about who Tenga Idoma might really be, but he can’t help but wonder about that as well.

#Finnpoe #Stormpilot #Finn (Star Wars)#Poe Dameron #fanfiction #WIP #Tenga Idoma

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hb-writes · 3 years

Text

A Little Raven

Written in response to Hauntober prompt #15: Raven.

Summary: From the Little Lady Blinder universe! A chat between sisters-in-law followed by a chat between Lizzie and Tommy. This is a bit long and self-indulgent and might not be particularly consistent with canon but oh well. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Characters Featured: Lizzie Shelby, Clara Shelby (Shelby!Sister), Tommy Shelby

—–

“Frances said you wanted me first?”

Lizzie turned from the window, allowing the passage of a brief smile as she glanced at her sister-in-law. Like her husband, Lizzie still saw a couple of kids when she looked at Clara and Finn, still saw the little girl who passed her time with books and papers while sitting on the stoop at Watery Lane, still saw the boy with a keen eye for mischief and a disposition towards unsanctioned sweets. She supposed those visions still held true. None of them were so different to be unrecognizable through the years. Some traits endured the transition to adulthood, no matter what transpired in the interim.

Clara stripped out of her coat, placing it over the back of the chair before following Lizzie’s gaze out to the yard where Ruby and Charles played with the nanny, their squeals and laughter sharp and clear through the pane of the closed window.

Clara sat in one of the armchairs, pulling her feet up and working on untying her boot laces while she waited. She was used to the reticent moments, used to people taking their time in revealing why she’d been summoned somewhere in the first place. She found it a pleasant change for Lizzie to be inviting her to the drawing-room for a visit rather than Tommy summoning her to his office for one of his chats, even if her sister-in-law was very clearly preoccupied.

The thud of Clara’s shoes hitting the floor as she slipped them off her feet pulled Lizzie’s eyes towards her for a moment before she settled them on the girl’s discarded boots, understated but still expensive, something Tommy had probably paid for.

Lizzie wasn’t ignoring her on purpose, Clara knew that. She was just distracted, caught up in her own thoughts, turning something over in her mind. Clara just wasn’t certain how she fit into those thoughts.

“Lizzie?” Clara said.

“Mmm?” Lizzie hummed, finally fixing her eyes on Clara.

“You did ask for me, right?” Clara said.

“I suppose you’d prefer to go be with the children,” Lizzie mused. “Or to go say hello to your brother?”

“Is he home already?” Clara asked, glancing down at the small watch on her wrist as she adjusted the clock face. It was barely past five.

Lizzie scoffed, gave a single shake of her head. Tommy was eternally late in coming home, and habitually premature in leaving it.

“Well, that leaves more time for us to catch up, then,” Clara offered, absently kneading the arch of her foot. “I came home to be with all of you, Lizzie.”

“Right, all of us,” Lizzie answered, sitting down in an adjacent armchair. “When’s the last time you saw all of us here, Clara? When’s the last time he graced us with his presence at a decent hour?”

It was the previous Sunday, Clara remembered, and he’d come out of his office just before dinner, played with Charles and Ruby a bit before eating with Clara, Lizzie, and the kids, but Clara had the feeling Lizzie didn’t want to be reminded of that.

“Did you talk to him?” Clara asked.

Lizzie took a deep breath and nearly gagged, feeling as though she wouldn’t be able to stop herself from conjuring up the contents of her latest meal, the sick feeling in her stomach beyond the typical bout of morning sickness, more of a nauseating dread which had settled in the pit of her stomach.

The last time she’d been here, in this condition, Lizzie had been optimistic. Nearly five years later, she felt anything but. And despite all the strength she’d decided on summoning, despite deciding to stay, to accept Tommy and his faults, to balance her head against her heart, she hadn’t planned on this as a part of the deal.

‘A little you and me,’ she’d offered Tommy when she’d told him of the first baby growing inside of her, a smile on her face, a bit of hope in her heart.

She had little hope this time, little positivity about the life prospects for yet another child of Thomas Shelby, a little boy nonetheless, a little raven-haired boy who would have his parents’ blue eyes, his father’s strong jaw, the unmistakable markings of a Shelby.

If Tommy had kept all of his promises, if he’d done right and put a proper stop to the sport for anyone named Shelby. If he’d kept Finn and Clara away from the life, Lizzie might have thought differently. She might have felt nothing but happiness at the prospect of another child with a little tuft of raven hair and bright blue eyes, but in half a decade, Tommy had dealt her plenty of empty assurances.

She feared enough for the children already. Her Ruby was a different child around her father, a bit nervous, a bit quiet. The girl didn’t know the same Tommy that Clara and Finn knew, nor the father Charlie had had for a time, at least while he was young.

This baby would never know that version of Tommy either, not really. Her children would spend their lives distant from the man they called dad, and there was part of Lizzie that didn’t think it to be a terrible thing.

Clara reached out to clasp Lizzie’s hand. “Lizz--”

“Polly says it’s a boy.”

“Oh,” Clara answered, pulling her hand back. “That’s--”

Lizzie cleared her throat and continued. “A little raven-haired boy named James.” She opened her cigarette case, placed the fag between her lips. “Jamie,” she added. “And no, I haven’t told your brother.”

Clara frowned. She was tired of holding the secret she’d accidentally overheard when Lizzie confided in Polly. She was tired of pretending with her brother, tired of avoiding him. It wasn’t easy work, withholding information from him because, despite the best of Clara’s efforts, Tommy possessed an uncanny ability to know when his sister was keeping something from him.

“He loves being a father, Lizzie. He’ll be--”

“Happy?” she suggested. “I’m less worried about your brother being happy than I am worried for all of you kids.”

“All of us?”

Lizzie lit the cigarette, puffing before she pointed it at Clara.

“Yes, you and Finn are included.”

“There’s nothing to worry about, Lizzie.”

“Right, with Finn running around getting himself shot and you--”

“What about me?”

“Neither one of you kids has a healthy sense of self-preservation, always pushing when you haven’t a need, and you’ve passed it right on to those two. Maybe it’s in the blood, an inherited recklessness that--”

“Is that really what you’re worried about? That I’ve taught the kids to stand up for themselves and I’ll teach the baby the same?” Clara asked.

Lizzie glanced out the window again, the things she was truly scared about swirling in her mind while she watched Ruby and Charles holding hands as they went round in circles.

“It’s a bad omen, a raven,” she said.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Clara answered. “A baby can’t be a bad omen.”

Lizzie was beginning to believe that the Shelby name was a curse and that despite her husband’s promises, not one of the kids would live a life unmarred by it, not Finn, not Clara, not Charles nor Ruby, and not the unborn son growing in her womb. And despite knowing Thomas Shelby loved the children, she feared what she already knew to be true, that loving a person wasn’t always enough.

These days, Tommy’s moments of softness were harder to come by. The types of moments Clara held on to when her brother was difficult, the moments that reminded her through the tough spots that he did much of what he did out of love, for protection or survival. Lizzie didn’t know her children would have that, didn’t know that a raven-haired boy looking just like his father could ever garner as much care as he’d deserve from the man, enough of the affection that he would need to someday to get through the tough spots.

“He’s not how he once was with you,” Lizzie said.

“He’s not been like that for a long while, Lizzie, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t love them.”

“I know he loves them, loves all of you, but I worry someday they won’t have memories enough to forgive him as you do.”

“I don’t forgive him because of the memories, Lizzie,” Clara answered. “I forgive him because he’s nearly my father and because I know he cares for me as much as I care for him. Ruby and Charles know that. Jamie will, too.”

Clara joined Lizzie on the couch. “And regardless, you care for us all well enough whether that fool joins us for dinner or not.”

Lizzie set her cigarette down in the tray and accepted Clara’s offered hug, allowing herself to release a breath of relief with the girl in her arms.

“Well, that may be, but it doesn’t settle my nerves about you and Finn,” Lizzie said as she pulled away.

Clara rolled her eyes. “You’ve not--”

“Glad I’m not the only one concerned.”

Clara glanced at her watch again before looking at Tommy where he stood by the door. “You’ve actually come early?”

He nodded. “Someone had Adam make it very clear in my diary that I was meant to be home at a respectable hour today.”

Clara hummed, feigning an impressed surprise, as though she hadn’t begged Tommy’s personal secretary at the commons to adjust his schedule to accommodate him being back in Warwickshire so early on a Friday evening.

“Right. I think I’ll leave you two and go say hello to Charlie and Ruby while we wait on Finn,” Clara offered, slipping past Tommy on her way to the door.

“Forgetting something, Clara?”

Clara turned back to him, snatching the forgotten boots from his outstretched hand.

“When our brother gets in, we can have a talk about your excursion in London on Tuesday evening, eh?”

Clara sighed. “I think we’re a bit old for a lecture, Tommy. It was nothing.”

“Seems like you two idiots’ll never be too old for a lecture,” he answered. “But go on. Go see the kids. I’m sure they’ve been asking after you all day.”

Tommy watched his sister leave before taking the seat beside his wife. “Now, while we wait for Finn, you and I can have a talk about that baby you’ve got growing inside you, eh Lizzie?”

Lizzie scoffed. "Polly told you then? Or was it Clara?”

Tommy shook his head. Of course, his sister knew. He cleared his throat.

“It was actually you, Lizzie,” he said, taking her hand in his. “Been eating honey on everything. Last time you did that was when you were pregnant with our Ruby.”

Lizzie nodded, looked out at the kids again, saw Clara had joined Ruby and Charles, and the three of them were laughing like a set of maniacs as they ran about the lawn.

“You’re worried,” Tommy offered, guiding his wife’s face to his. “Let me into that head of yours, Lizzie.”

She leaned into his touch as he cupped her cheek, allowed herself that comfort.

“To clear it out?” she mumbled.

Tommy nodded. “To clear it out. Just like we agreed.”

Lizzie placed her hand on top of his.

“Ruby’ll be asking after another sister.”

“Well, she’ll be disappointed then,” Lizzie answered. “It’s a boy.”

Tommy nodded. There was a time when he thought it mattered, back when boys became blinders and girls were considered liabilities but Tommy had stopped thinking that way, started thinking that Lizzie was right. And Grace had been right. There was only one way to keep them all safe.

“Either way,” he answered. “Another little you and me, eh?”

Lizzie nodded and Tommy pulled his eyes away at the approaching footsteps and laughter as Ruby and Charlie piled into the room.

“Daddy! Daddy!”

“And what have you lot been up to, eh?” Tommy asked, pulling Ruby into his lap as Charlie came to sit beside them.

“We’ve been playing, daddy!” Ruby said.

“Dad, Aunt Clara said she and Uncle Finn are ready for a shouting at whenever you are,” Charlie said. “They went to your office.”

Tommy shook his head, glanced quickly at Lizzie before he looked back to his boy.

“What are you going to shout at them for, daddy?” Ruby asked, turning her head to look up at him.

“Don’t you worry about that, sweetheart,” Tommy answered.

“He’s gonna shout because they’ve been naughty,” Charles said to his sister.

“Don’t shout very much, daddy,” Ruby answered. “It’ll ruin our supper.”

“I’m not going to shout. We’re just going to have a talk about them setting a better example for you kids.”

“And then we’ll have supper?” Ruby asked.

“Then supper, Ruby,” he said. “I had Frances ask chef to make a special honey cake for dessert.”

“For mummy?” Ruby asked. “Mummy loves honey cake.”

“And for your baby brother,” Lizzie answered, pulling Ruby’s hand to rest on her stomach. “The one growing in my belly.”

-----

Read more Little Lady Blinder stories here.

#Hauntober #peaky blinders #peaky blinders fanfic #lizzie shelby #tommy shelby #Shelby!Sister #little lady blinder #clara shelby #lizzie stark #ruby shelby #charles shelby #tommy x lizzie

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wheresmynaya · 3 years

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Lost in the Lights Ch.16|Brittana

A/N - Better late than never, am I right? 😅 Sorry for the delay, it has been a struggle to write but thanks for being patient and not spamming me with demands for an update. I must be a glutton for punishment though because I've decided that this final chapter will have two parts now. Here's part one. Enjoy!

Available on ff.net (x) ao3 (x) & under the cut!

Despite the pristine shape Brittany keeps herself in, she breathes heavily in the crisp December air. Her lungs feel like they’re growing icicles and she’s struggling to keep her hands from going numb in the frigid temperature. There’s no doubt her nose is as red as Rudolph’s by now and she can barely feel her lips as she calls out play after play, but she persists.

She always persists.

Afterall, this is the last football practice of her high school career.

It’s an important milestone for her but the couple of hours Coach Beiste added to practice makes it a little harder to enjoy – especially now that the sun sets earlier and the temperature drops faster. But Brittany figures high school football practices are a walk in the park compared to college level, so she goes through the motions as per usual and soaks in the moment while it lasts.

At the sound of Coach Beiste’s whistle, everyone gets set for another play and Brittany readies herself for the snap.

When the ball is hiked, Brittany takes it into her hands and tries to drop back so she can fire downfield. The Titan defense is too aggressive for her new O-Line though and soon the pocket she’s in begins to collapse. Defensive players are coming at her from all angles so she has to duck and dodge. It’s a mad scramble to avoid a sack but there’s nothing more to do than to throw the ball away for an incompletion.

When the play is called dead, there’s some shoving amongst her frustrated linemen but she wedges herself in between the guys, forcing them apart with a firm push. The tension has been growing since last night’s practice, but they can’t fall apart now. There’s too much at stake.

“It’s alright, guys! We’re almost there!” Brittany tries to encourage her team although she’s starting to sense the discouragement, “Keep pushing! We’ll get this.”

“Jackson! Ridley! You have got to step it up,” Coach drills for the tenth time, “Pierce was this close to a sack. You have to offer more protection than that or we’re getting our butts handed to us tomorrow night.”

The replacements for Azimio and Karofsky nod diligently. The two eagerly accepted the challenge when Coach Beiste called upon them to step up after dismissing Azimio and Karofsky. The only problem is that they mostly practiced on defense so protecting the quarterback is new terrain for them.

“This isn’t Carmel’s first rodeo, folks. They’re the defending champs for how many years now? We have to do better than this. I know we can, we wouldn’t have a record like ours if we couldn’t,” Coach continues.

And it’s true. From where the Titans were as a team in the beginning of the season to now is a drastic improvement. Hell, they’re playing better than they ever have! The loss of Azimio and Karofsky was only a minor setback, but the team has faced adversity before and they can do it again.

Besides, they’re better off without them.

“Carmel’s time at the top is over,” Brittany adds as she looks around at her team, “Right, Titans?”

The team starts to hype themselves up again as they cheer on Brittany’s words and the quarterback smiles proudly at the response.

“Alright, let’s run it again and this time hold the line longer than half a second,” Coach instructs, “We know Pierces has wheels, but she shouldn’t have to scramble. Line up!”

The Titans all gravitate back to the line of scrimmage at the Coach’s command and begin again.

With only two practices on offense under the replacements’ belt and the big game just a mere 24 hours away, all Brittany can do now is have faith that they’ll be able to iron out most of the kinks and everything will work out just fine.

It has to.

It’s a restless night’s sleep for Brittany before the big game, but that’s nothing new. She always gets the jitters on game day, but there’s something else that looms over her and she can’t quite decided if it’s good or bad. It lingers throughout her morning run and usual routine of getting ready for the school day. It’s there as she texts Santana good morning and it’s even there when she joins her mom and Pete for breakfast downstairs.

“Nice shirt, Petey!” Brittany compliments before pressing a kiss to the top of her brother’s head.

Pete puffs out his chest and does a cute little flex to show off his custom-made Pierce Power t-shirt in WMHS colors. Brittany starts to mimic him and soon the two are having a flex-off at the kitchen counter.

Whitney can only laugh at the pair as she plates up their banana pancakes. That odd feeling still lingers as they all settle down to eat, but it’s kind of comforting above anything else.

With her car keys in hand, Brittany’s just about to head out the door when she catches a glimmer from the corner of her eye. The morning sun trickles in through the tiny opening left in the living room curtains and falls on a silver picture frame on the fireplace mantle. In the frame is a picture of a young Brittany wearing a football jersey that’s two sizes too big and she’s giving the camera a toothy grin as she holds a football that’s two sizes too big for her tiny hands.

But behind her, supporting the ball in her tiny hands so she doesn’t drop it is her dad and he looks just as proud as he always did to be there to support her. It’s one of Brittany’s favorite pictures of them – the first time she was introduced to football. It wouldn’t be for a couple more years that she’d actually take to the field, but in that picture is where her interest begin.

It wasn’t forced upon her. It wasn’t her dad trying to live vicariously through her. It was just a moment between a father and daughter. A moment that shaped her and encouraged her to be this great athlete, but above all – a great person. If it wasn’t for him, maybe she would’ve never touched a football?

Brittany starts to get a little choked up because he should be here. He should be in those stands tonight cheering louder than anyone else there just like he has done all of her life. He should be with her, looking just as proud as he does in that picture.

She starts to feel that familiar pain in her chest, the slow building anger, because it isn’t fair. Of all the great dads in the world, why did it have to be hers? But then she remembers something her mom told her once after having one of her nightmares.

“He’ll always be with you, Britt. He’s in every pretty sunset and sunrise. He’s there for every game and every one of your touchdowns. You might not be able to see him anymore or hear him, but he’s there. You’ll feel it.”

It’s not until that moment that Brittany begins to realize what that feeling that’s lingered around her all morning might be. It’s the first time she’s really felt it in a long time and she quietly wishes he’d visit more often.

At that, she gives the picture one last smile before heading out the door.

When she arrives to WMHS’ student parking lot, Brittany finds that she has beaten Santana to school for a second morning in a row. She chuckles as she remembers the garbled nonsense Santana had sent in reply to Brittany’s Good Morning text and decides to head inside and wait for Santana by their lockers instead. The girl has been known to show up with just a few minutes left to spare before first bell and Brittany needs a little more time than that to get ready for class.

On the walk to her locker, Brittany is greeted by several students and faculty wishing her luck tonight. She smiles and thanks them like she has grown accustomed to doing over the past few months, although sometimes she still can’t believe they all treat her like some type of celebrity.

She spots some of her teammates in the hall dressed similarly to her in their blue jeans and Game Day jerseys. The only thing Brittany’s missing is her letterman jacket but she can thank the Puck Heads for that.

“Sup Pierce!” Puck calls out before he and Finn bump knuckles with her, “Ready for tonight?”

“Totally,” Brittany responds confidently, “You?”

“Hell yeah!” Puck answers, “Can’t wait to saw right through those guys.”

“Seriously! Wish we got to have the school day off or something,” Finn says, “Like a Titans Skip Day?”

“Dude, genius idea!” Puck replies, “No way I’ll be able to concentrate on stuff today.”

Brittany knows the feeling but she doesn’t say that, “I know, that would be so awesome but no skipping. Coach checks if we’re all in class.”

“Damn,” Finn and Puck grumble in unison.

Brittany only laughs as she continues her walk, “Would be cool though. I’ll catch you later.”

When she gets to her locker, Brittany starts pulling out the books she doesn’t need yet from her book bag in exchange for the ones she’ll need for her first class. She’s trying her hardest to remember what she needs for class, but with the entire school going on and on about this game tonight it’s difficult to focus on much else.

That Titans Skip Day starts to sound really good as she finishes up stuffing her book bag. She only wishes it were a real thing as JBI rounds the corner with his mic and cameraman in tow.

“Good morning, Brittany!” JBI says cheerfully, “Do you have time for a quick interview?”

Brittany’s brows rise, “You’re asking first?”

JBI’s cheerfulness falters slightly, “New policy.”

Brittany looks around the hall for Santana but she still isn’t around so she figures she can throw JBI a bone. It’ll probably be the last interview she’ll have to do anyway and since he asked nicely, she might as well do it.

“Alright then. Shoot.”

“Awesome!” JBI then looks to the camera guy and gestures for him to start filming.

Brittany straightens up and tries to prepare herself for whatever questions might be thrown her way. Surprisingly though, the first three are pretty easy for her to answer. In fact, it starts off as a relatively legit interview void of gossipy comments.

Key words though: starts off.

“What about the loss of Karofsky and Azimio?” JBI questions, “With the change being made just two days out from the big game, are there any regrets?”

Brittany takes a moment before answering, “I’m not going to question the decision my Coach made, so no I don’t have any regrets. I don’t really consider it a loss, it was more of gain. Taking their place are two players who have been on our defense’s practice squad and they’re super excited to show everyone what they’ve got.”

JBI doesn’t seem satisfied with her diplomatic answer and presses further, “How prepared can someone possibly be with only two days of practice? Doesn’t seem fair to me.”

“Well, you can thank Karofsky and Azimio for that,” Brittany replies too quickly, “They were the ones that decided not to carry themselves like they should. Would it have been nice to get a little more practice in with the new guys? Sure, but they were the ones who let this team down, who let me down.”

“So it was a personal matter that got them kicked off the team?” JBI presses.

Brittany grits her teeth, “If you want to know their story then go ask them for the details.”

JBI backs off with a sigh, “Okay. So with a couple key players out of the way, do you have any concerns about the outcome of tonight’s game?”

“No. We’re going out there to win tonight,” Brittany says confidently, “We’re a resilient bunch of talented players, we can overcome just about anything if we continue to work as a team. Jackson and Ridley should be given more credit because they’re doing fantastic given the short notice.”

“Hopefully that’ll reflect in tonight’s game,” JBI changes gears once he realizes Brittany isn’t going to fall into his trap, “There's also a rumor going around that the entire hockey team has been required to attend the game tonight. Can you confirm this?”

“Is that considered a rumor?” Brittany questions. JBI nods eagerly but Brittany just shrugs, “Well yeah, Coach Beiste found out that they haven’t actually attended a Titans game ever so she figured this would be the best way for them to get over their…feelings towards me and the team. A lot of their aggression comes from ignorance so hopefully tonight we can change that. It's important that we all support each other, we all play for the same school so when we succeed we all do.”

“And if you don't win?” JBI presses, “The last time the Titans competed against Carmel the score was 23 – 7; you guys were demolished. It would be pretty embarrassing now with the Puck Heads there because you’re not losing in front of just one rival, you're doing it in front of two.”

Brittany feels her heart drop to the pit of her stomach. She hadn’t thought about that before and she finds herself struggling to come up with a quick, diplomatic response.

“Why the hell would you say something like that?”

Brittany turns to the familiar voice and finds Santana walking up with this scowl on her face. The crowds of students quickly get out of her way as she saunters over to the pair. JBI looks like he’s a deer caught in the headlights and Santana thrives on it as the scowl turns devilish.

“What’s the matter with you, huh?” Santana snaps and gives him a little shove out of the way since he was blocking her locker.

“What?” JBI asks innocently. Brittany swears she sees him shiver.

“How about a good luck tonight or you’ve done an amazing job with the team this season?” Santana prompts with faux-excitement before the scowl returns, “God, the shit you spout. No wonder you’re always in a dumpster.”

Brittany stifles a laugh while Santana just shakes her head at him.

“I – I’m not always in a dumpster,” JBI counters but Santana only waves him off as she glances at Brittany. There’s just a hint of a smile there, but it’s enough for the quarterback to find her confidence again.

“Well to answer your question, JBI,” Brittany replies, “If we don’t come out on top tonight, at least we played at all. Right? Have you competed in any Championship games lately? Has anyone at this school besides the Cheerios competed in a Championship?”

JBI’s shoulders sink a little while Santana smiles proudly.

“Yeah, I didn’t think so,” Brittany adds.

“And on that note,” Santana says to him, “Kindly fuck off.”

Once JBI and his friend shuffle away, Santana’s demeanor softens just a little more.

“Sorry I missed you in the parking lot,” Santana apologizes, “I couldn’t find my keys this morning and Quinn was meant to drop off your – “

Santana’s sentence is cut off by Brittany stealing a quick kiss while they’re shielded by their locker doors being open. Santana’s lips are still a little cold from her being outside but it doesn’t last once she has Brittany’s on her. It’s soft and sweet and for a second they forget they’re even at school.

“Mornin’,” Brittany says once she pulls away wearing her infamous mega-watt smile, “How are you?”

Santana blinks at the casual tone and lets out a chuckle, “I’m good now. How are you?”

Brittany looks down the hall where JBI is now trying to interview Puck and Finn. She shakes her head at that and laughs, “Well...it’s a typical day at William McKinley.”

“There’s always something,” Santana chuckles as she starts rummaging through her locker, “How are you feeling about today?”

“I feel good,” Brittany nods, “I feel ready. A bit nervous because there’s a lot riding on this game…”

“You’ve got nothing to be nervous about,” Santana assures her with a smile, “You’re the best of the best. Both on the field and off.”

Brittany feels her cheeks pink at the compliment.

“I for one can’t wait to see you play,” Santana adds before sending her a smirk, “I’ve never seen someone look so good in that uniform.”

“Okay,” Brittany blushes, “Stop while you’re ahead or else I might make you miss first bell.”

Santana giggles seductively just as a group of freshman girls walk by them.

“Good luck tonight, Brittany!” One girl says, “You’re an inspiration to us all.”

Brittany gives them an awkward but polite smile, “Thank you.”

They all chatter amongst themselves excitedly as they move on down the hall. Santana looks at them then back to Brittany as a smirk forms.

“I see your fan club is very active today,” She teases.

Brittany rolls her eyes, “They’re excited. It’s the first Championship game for a lot of people here, they’re bound to be a little…enthusiastic. Plus there’s the whole first female QB thing that no one will forget so yeah, they’re active today.”

“Just remember who your real number one fan is,” Santana flirts with a tug to the hem of Brittany’s jersey.

“Who’s that?”

Santana tugs a little harder causing Brittany to come closer as she quirks her brow.

“Right,” Brittany smirks, “I might need more reminding later.”

“Oh really?”

“Mhmm,” Brittany hums, “I might need help warming up too.”

“I bet you do,” Santana teases as she leans in for a quick kiss, “Luckily, I’m good at doing both.”

“God,” Someone scoffs, “Get a room.”

Santana scowls at the interruption but as she and Brittany pull away they find Quinn standing there smirking. One hand is on her hip while a coat protector dangles from the other.

“I see why you couldn’t wait two more minutes,” Quinn mentions with a chuckle, “Had to go and scar everyone with whatever’s going on here.”

Santana rolls her eyes playfully, “Please, our lips barely even grazed.”

Brittany chuckles at that.

“Besides,” Santana continues, “It was either wait on your ass for who knows how long or see my wonderful, amazing girlfriend. It was a pretty easy decision to make.”

“Yeah yeah,” Quinn jokes as she hands Brittany the hanger, “This is for you, Britt.”

Brittany looks a little confused as she takes it but then she gets a peek of crimson red fabric from the opening of the bag and realizes what it is.

“Hey, it’s my jacket!” Brittany exclaims.

“I rushed the order,” Quinn shrugs as Santana helps Brittany unzip the bag.

“Thank you so much,” Brittany wastes no time putting it on over her jersey. She was never one to walk around in her letterman jacket all the time, but she’d be lying if she said it didn’t make her feel a little more complete now.

“Looking good,” Santana winks before adjusting Brittany’s collar.

Brittany blushes before turning back to Quinn, “I really appreciate this, Quinn. Let me know what I owe you so I can pay you back.”

Quinn waves her off, “Don’t worry about it.”

“Are you sure?” Brittany asks, “A rush order like this couldn’t have been cheap.”

“It’s fine, really,” Quinn assures her, “Just kill it tonight.”

Brittany only grins, “I can do that.”

And the Titans do kill it…at first.

They hit the ground running and were able to score touchdowns on their first two drives, making the score 14 – 0 within the first five minutes of the game! The quick lead really got the crowd going in favor of the Titans – Brittany was sure she could hear her mom and Pete cheering her on all the way from the stands. Even the Puck Heads looked somewhat interested in the game. She and the team used all that energy and gave each play their all and then some.

For most of the first quarter, the Titans were crushing Carmel on offense and their star quarterback, Jesse St. James, was not happy about that. The guy practically threw a temper tantrum anytime the Titans scored, it was so sad. It’s a surprise the refs hadn’t called any penalties, but with a rivalry like there’s everyone was ready for the tension.

Whenever the Camels would score, the Titans were all too happy to respond with a touchdown of their own. With the amount of touchdown passes Brittany was throwing, she was nearing a record-breaking game and they were still only in the first half.

It was a shoot out up until the ball was picked off of Mike midway in the second quarter which changed the tides in favor of the Camels.

With that small advantage, it was like new life was breathed into Carmel. From then on, it felt like Brittany and the Titans were playing catch up, just hoping to maintain their 14 point lead that the Camels were quickly closing in on.

Unfortunately on the Titans’ next drive, they’re unable to make it into the endzone. The Camels use that to their advantage once again and do what the Titans couldn’t: score.

That brings it to 35 – 28 with the Titans still in the lead but only by a single touchdown.

“Not today, sweetheart!” A Carmel defender taunts in Brittany’s direction after her pass was swatted down. The player jogs alongside her and flexes, “Maybe if you had guns like these you could get through me!”

Brittany does her best to ignore him, but he’s been running his mouth all night and she’s starting to reach her boiling point. She can’t lose her cool though, not tonight, so she just keeps her eyes forward in hopes that he’ll lose interest.

After another failed drive for the Titans offense, Brittany makes her way to the sidelines with her helmet in her hand. She’s given a water bottle and takes a quick drink before wiping the sweat from her face with a towel. Although she’s starting to get a little frustrated, Brittany keeps those feelings to herself as she reaches for the Titans playbook.

“There’s got to be something we haven’t tried,” Brittany mutters to herself as she flips through.

She’s looking for something that Carmel wouldn’t expect from them, something that’ll give the Titans that edge that’s been missing so far. Though it’s still early in the game, it feels like Carmel is starting to play one step ahead of them and Brittany wants to find a way to stop that before it’s too late.

As she flips through the plays, constantly tucking the fallen strands of hair from her ponytail behind her ears, Brittany continues to look for that special play when she hears someone call out to her. Turning to the voice, she finds Santana leaning on the railing behind her.

“Want me to fix that for you?” She asks with a small smirk.

It takes a second for Brittany to realize that she’s talking about her messy ponytail before she’s jogging over to close the distance between them.

Santana’s decked out even more so than usual in school spirited accessories and her Cheerios uniform is as vibrant as ever, but what catches Brittany’s eye is the #12 drawn on Santana’s cheek in red and black marker. She swears that wasn’t there when she saw Santana before the game and it makes her heart melt.

Brittany knows many people have taken a liking to her, to the point where they wear her number to show support but it hits differently when Santana does it – especially since not many people know about them being a couple yet.

“You’re wearing my number,” Brittany points out as she turns her back so that Santana can reach her ponytail. She keeps her eyes trained on the field, hoping their defense doesn’t let Carmel score.

“I am,” Santana says as her fingers delicately pull the hair tie from Brittany’s hair and starts to comb through the strands, “You don’t know how many girls on the squad wanted to wear yours, I couldn’t have that.”

Brittany laughs, “Well I am pretty inspirational.”

“I guess,” Santana teases before getting to work on the braid, “How’s it going out there? It looks like you guys are losing steam. Not getting tired, are you?”

Brittany scoffs playfully, “We’re just getting started but I can see what you mean. Their offense isn’t making it easy for us. They’ve definitely watched film.”

Santana hums again as Brittany gets lost in thought to the feeling of Santana’s fingertips gently scratching at her scalp. She’s been so focused on the game and moving around that she hasn’t noticed how cold it is out. A December winter in Ohio is very different from the ones she’s used to in Florida, but she keeps her hands hidden in her hand warmer.

“We have to score once more before the half, but I think Carmel is starting to pick up on our routes,” Brittany says, “I have to do something different. It can’t be a sneak because I don’t think they’ll let me get away with it for a second time. I can’t risk getting picked off again either because that’s even worse, but what? What won’t they expect?”

“Well,” Santana sighs as her hands move further down Brittany’s hair, “I can’t say I know what most of that means but you got this. If anyone can make something happen, it’s you. It’s still early, maybe you’ll wear them out?”

“Or maybe they’ll just get stronger?” Brittany mumbles her worries.

“You can’t think like that,” Santana tells her as she finishes up and nudges Brittany around, “You’ve turned this team around and gotten them this far. You’re going all the way, babe, I can feel it. Besides, you guys are in way better shape than them; at least, I know you’re definitely in better shape. I can guarantee that one from personal experience.”

Brittany smiles back lovingly and almost laughs when Santana accompanies her compliment with a wink. She’s not used to being the one that needs the pep talk, but she’s glad Santana’s there to offer her one anyway. She didn’t realize how much she needed the reassurance.

It makes those three little words start to float up, but she pushes them away for now. She needs her focus to be on the game.

“Thank you,” Brittany says, “It really means a lot.”

Santana only shrugs although she looks just as smitten.

“And thanks for this too,” Brittany says as she glides over her newly braided hair, “Didn’t know you could French braid.”

“It’s one of my many talents,” Santana jokes, “Also one less thing you have to worry about. I’m sure you’ll figure out the football thing too. Maybe you could have one of the guys throw it to you instead or something? Carmel would never expect that.”

Brittany’s eyes light up, “Oh my God, you’re right.”

“What?”

Brittany gets to thinking out loud, “I’ve got Finn and even Sam. They both have pretty good arms. If I hand it off to one of them instead, I could totally slip through and get open.”

“Wait, seriously?” Santana chuckles disbelievingly “You’re really gonna try that?”

“Duh. It’s a good idea,” Brittany grins confidently, “God, I could just kiss you right n – ”

“Offense! To the field!” Coach yells out, “Where’s Pierce?”

“Shit. I gotta go,” Brittany says before quickly pulling on her helmet and giving Santana a wink, “Wish me luck!”

Santana only waves her pompoms in return as she watches Brittany jog off.

Back out on the field, Brittany gets her guys ready for the first snap. She’s going to try and get them into better field advantage because no way she’s going to attempt to run for 40 yards. She can’t risk getting tackled and potentially injuring herself so that’s where Puckerman comes in handy.

“East 32,” Brittany calls out to her sides; a running play, “East 32!”

She tracks the defense’s movements, keeping her eyes on the linebacker that’s been giving her a hard time all quarter. Thankfully Jackson and Ridley have been doing a great job of protecting her thus far, but all it takes is one wrong move to change that.

“Down!” She says and readies herself for the snap, “HUT!”

The ball is thrust into her hands and she’s quick to get a good hold of it before she’s passing it off to Puck. Brittany hits him square in the chest with it and he automatically wraps the ball in his arms, making this impenetrable cage, before he’s crashing into defenders. Brittany throws a block in order to offer a little more protection, but Puck is only able to go a few yards before he’s brought down.

It’s a clean hit, but someone on the Camels makes a snarky comment and the next thing Brittany’s knows is that Puck’s getting in their face. Matt tries his best to pull him away, but another one of Carmel’s guys shoves at Matt so now everyone’s starting to get scrappy.

“Back off! Get back!” Brittany yells at her guys as the refs start to push players apart, “Come on, guys! Back off!”

With the two teams having years and years of rivalry history under their belts, Brittany was prepared for the emotions to show. She figured it would’ve happened a lot sooner, but she’s grateful that it didn’t. She needs her guys focused on the game, not getting wrapped up in a fight.

“Come on, Puck,” Brittany coaxes as she gets her hand on the Running Back, “Don’t let them get into your head. You’re better than this.”

“That asshole keeps talking shit!” Puck snaps, “I’m getting sick of it.”

“Then shut him up with a play,” She warns him, “You getting caught up in a fight doesn’t help your team. It won’t mean anything if you’re ejected, will it?”

Puck quiets down, “No.”

“Okay, stay focused then,” Brittany says then pats him on the shoulder before gathering her guys for another play.

On their next play, she hands the ball off to Puck again and this time he’s able to break free of his defenders and gets a crucial first down. Now that they’re within good range to try Santana’s idea, Brittany has to call a time out to tell her team about it.

When she does, they all look at her like she’s crazy…at first.

“I like it,” Mike nods, “I think it’ll work. It’s kind of crazy, but they wouldn’t expect it. Plus they’ve been favoring the left so far too, it’ll be good to switch it up.”

“Exactly,” Brittany smirks and looks to the time remaining before half time, “We’re just shy of the two minute mark so if we can get another touchdown in and go for a two point conversion, I think we’ll feel a lot more comfortable in our lead.”

A lot of the guys like the sound of that.

“I’ll take the snap,” Finn offers, “Or hand off? Whatever you want to do, Cap.”

Brittany smiles apologetically, “Actually I was planning on using Sam for this one.”

Sam straightens up at the mention of his name, “Me?”

“Didn’t you want to try out for QB or something?” Brittany replies, “I could use someone with your agility. No offense, Hudson.”

Sam looks over to Finn, everyone does, but surprisingly Finn just nods proudly.

“Whatever it takes to win,” Finn says and gives Sam a pat on the shoulder, “Kill it, dude.”

Sam perks up, “Okay, what do I need to do?”

Brittany goes on to explain what she’s thinking despite Coach Beiste in her ear telling her to do something different. With all do respect to her, Brittany sees an opportunity to shake things up and she can’t play it safe with the play Coach wants her to run instead. She knows that there are recruiters in the crowd watching her and the other players and she’s got to stand out if she wants that scholarship.

She gives one glance over to the sidelines where Santana and the Cheerios anxiously await the next play. They’re all ruffling their pompoms as if they were beating drums but Santana’s hands don’t move quite as fast as everyone else’s, she’s too concerned about the game. Brittany gives her an encouraging nod though before turning back to focus.

When the ball is snapped, Sam grabs for the ball but it’s not a smooth hand off. Thankfully, he’s able to secure it in time to drop back and find Brittany crossing over the line of scrimmage. He hangs in the pocket for as long as he can so that Brittany can get into position but what she doesn’t anticipate is the Carmel Cornerback closing in on her.

It’s a jump ball and Brittany leaps into the air to catch it but as she tries to, the Cornerback makes a high tackle. Brittany’s helmet nearly flies off as she’s brought down hard on her elbow. As soon as she makes contact with the turf, she knows she’s going to get an earful from Coach Beiste.

The ref calls it an incomplete pass, but it could’ve easily been picked off by that defender if they weren’t careful which would’ve been even worse.

“Try again next time, Princess!” The Cornerback laughs in her face before the other defenders join him in celebrating.

She’s slow to get up while Jackson and Ridley rush over to push the defenders away from her. The refs are already calling out the penalty against Carmel for that high hit and giving the Titans a first down, but Brittany can’t enjoy it – her elbow’s bothering her even more as she tries to loosen it up.

“Get over here, Pierce!” Coach yells, “Hudson, you’re in!”

Finn looks warily between the two before getting his helmet on and into the game. Brittany does her best to put on a brave face but as she makes it to the sidelines and the trainer starts to fuss over her, she knows she’s messed up.

“What the hell were you thinking out there?” Coach demands, “You know who you’re playing against? You’re lucky they didn’t break your arm!”

“I’m sorry, Coach, I thought we could catch them off guard,” Brittany replies.

Coach Beiste just shakes her head and looks to the trainer, “How is it?”

“Just some bruising,” The trainer responds, “She’ll be fine.”

Brittany grits her teeth as the trainer wraps an ice pack around her elbow. The cold stings but not as much as Coach Beiste’s disappointment.

Coach hardens her stare, “Hudson will close out the half. You just…go sit over there and keep icing that elbow.”

“Yes Coach,” Brittany replies before making her way over to the bench.

She feels this annoying sting in the corner of her eyes and a little in her throat, but she swallows it back. She was the one who made the decision, she has to pay for the consequences. Doesn’t mean it hurts any less though.

Brittany drops the ice pack to examine her elbow for herself, noticing the redness but she can’t tell if its from the pack or the hit. All she can do is count her lucky ducks that it’s only bruising and not something worse.

“Hey B!” Santana calls out to her again from the other side of the fence. There’s this concerned look on her face as she asks, “You okay?”

Brittany turns and gives her a weak smile and a thumbs up. That doesn’t seem to satisfy Santana though and soon the Co-Captain is making her way around the fence to Brittany’s side.

“You know you can’t keep coming over here, Santana,” Brittany says as her girlfriend starts to look her over, “Coach Beiste is already super pissed at me for that play. I don’t need her pissed about you too.”

“Please,” Santana waves off, “You saw what happened the last time someone tried keeping me away from you while you were hurt?”

“Actually no,” Brittany smirks, “My eyes were closed.”

Santana gives her a look, “Well it wasn’t pretty.”

“I’m kind of surprised you didn’t try running onto the field that time,” Brittany jokes lightly.

“It didn’t look too bad,” Santana teases as she touches Brittany’s elbow.

“Ouch,” Brittany whines and Santana quickly withdraws her hand.

“Oh my God, I’m sorry! Are you okay?”

When Brittany starts to grin, Santana swats her knee.

“Not funny,” Santana chastises before reaching for Brittany’s abandoned ice pack, “You need to keep this on there. It’ll reduce the swelling.”

“I know,” Brittany sighs, “It’s just cold, Doc.”

“It’s supposed to be.”

Brittany gives her a look and Santana gives it right back.

“Don’t be stubborn,” Santana tells her as she gently touches Brittany’s elbow, “Looks sore.”

“A little,” Brittany says softly, “But you know what would make me feel a lot better?”

“What?”

“A sweet lady kiss.”

Santana quirks her brow and tries not to laugh, “A what?”

“You heard me,” Brittany says and taps her lips, “Right here.”

Santana chuckles but she doesn’t make a move as she lowers her eyes to Brittany’s elbow, “You really should be more careful and rest this.”

Brittany’s smile falters at the way Santana evaded the request, “That’s what I’m doing.”

She doesn’t want to over think the topic change, but she can’t help but think of it as just that. They had been going so well for so long, Brittany didn’t think she’d have to experience Santana’s hesitance again.

Santana sighs, “I mean you should – ”

“I know what you meant,” Brittany answers, “Finn’s in for now but I’m finishing the game, Santana. I’ll rest it later. I’m not sitting out any longer than I need to.”

“But Britt – “

“Why don’t you want to kiss me?”

Santana freezes, her words quickly dying upon hearing Brittany’s question. Of all the progress they’ve made together, she didn’t think she’d see Santana back peddling once again.

“I – that’s not it,” Santana stammers as her eyes drift to the stands, “There’s just a lot of important people here – scouts and my parents and reporters – and a lot of cameras too.”

Brittany swallows back the lump in her throat and tries to shake off the hurt because that’s the excuse she wants to give? Brittany shakes her head, “Sure yeah. I get it. Appearances are important and what not.”

“Wait Britt,” Santana tries with a hand on Brittany’s knee, “That’s not it at all. I mean it is, but not…I’m not hiding this time, I promise.”

Brittany bites her bottom lip, trying to keep that sinking feeling away. She wants to believe her, but they’ve been out together in public before, even kissed, so what’s different about this time? If anything, Santana should care even less about the audience now after everything they’ve been through.

“I’m trying not feel hurt right now,” Brittany mumbles and it’s barely loud enough for Santana to hear.

“Baby,” Santana sighs in a tone that Brittany isn’t used to. It makes her feel soft and warm. Santana looks up at Brittany with her eyes pretty brown eyes, “I don’t mean to hurt you. I just don’t want what happened to me to happen to you too.”

Brittany frowns at that, “What do you mean?”

“I don’t want them taking your moment from you,” Santana says, “I don’t want you to get overlooked because the focus is on us sharing a scandalous kiss or however they try to spin it. I rather the focus to be on you and the team and your inevitable win.”

Brittany stays quiet and Santana sighs.

“Maybe I’m being a little over protective here after what happened with me and Dani or dramatic or whatever but I know how this town works,” Santana adds solemnly, “They’ll take your moment like they took mine and I don’t want that for you. You’ve worked too hard for this, Britt.”

Brittany can’t find it in her to feel as hurt as before now that Santana’s explained her reasoning. She just stares back adoringly, “I think things are different this time around.”

“Are they? Just look over there,” Santana gestures to the fence where JBI and his camera friend are filming. Alongside him is another reporter from a sleezy Lima gossip magazine, “Fucking vultures. They already think they’re getting a good show.”

“But we aren’t doing anything?”

“It doesn’t matter. They’ll make something up.”

Santana flips them off and Brittany’s quick to put her hand down.

“What are you doing?” Brittany chastises, “You just said – “

“If you flip them off they can’t use the pictures,” Santana says, “I saw Kristen Stewart do it.”

Brittany frowns at her logic but doesn’t challenge it.

“Look, there are eyes and ears everywhere waiting for you to put on a show,” Santana tells her, “Let it be the right kind of show, okay? This is your night.”

Brittany begins to smile as lets Santana’s words sink in. Her heart begs Brittany to say those three little words that keep coming up, but her head speaks first.

“Yeah, okay. Tonight’s my night.”

“Exactly,” Santana replies then teases in a lighter tone, “You and I can make a scene later, once you win this thing.”

Brittany chuckles at that, “Okay.”

“Okay,” Santana tenderly squeezes Brittany’s knee as halftime is called, “I have to go put on a show of my own now. I’ll see you after.”

This time Brittany’s the one left watching as Santana jogs off to join her squad.

“We’ve got them right where we want them and you’re blowing it by not playing smart!” Coach yells at the squad in the locker room. Some of the players begin to show signs of exhaustion, but Coach’s booming voice grabs their attention, “Don’t give your lead away! You’re a better team than them. We know it, they know it so let’s play like it.”

Brittany nods to Coach’s words before she’s being rounded on.

“And you,” Coach shakes her head, “You have one of the best arms out there, kid. You’ve got scouts all over the country with their eye on you. Do you really want to blow all of that by being cocky?”

Brittany stiffens. She didn’t think that’s what she was being by taking a chance, but she knows better than to argue with her coach.

“You’ve got good instincts but think about your team,” Coach Beiste warns, “If you want to do some trick play like that, run it by me first and I’ll give you the okay on whether or not it should actually happen.”

“Yes Coach,” Brittany answers.

“As for the rest of you,” Beiste takes in a deep breath before cracking a proud smile, “As frustrating it is sometimes to watch you all play, you’re doing one hell of a job out there. We expected Carmel to bring the heat but we love playing with fire, don’t we?”

The Titans start to get rowdy at that and Coach’s smile widens.

“Keep at it and we will come out of this on top,” Beiste says, “Play hard, play smart, but most importantly have fun. This is your night, Titans, this is the legacy you’re leaving behind. Make it a good one!”

Brittany feels her chest swell with pride as she nods along to Beiste’s words.

“Alright, we’ve got a little time left so coaches talk to your groups,” Beiste motions for the secondary coaches over while she turns to Brittany, “And you, come talk to me about this trick play you tried pulling. Maybe I can help you iron out the kinks.”

Brittany’s eyes widen but she doesn’t question it and quickly gets to the drawing board.

After the Cheerios’ halftime performance, the Titans come out with guns blazing. Coach Beiste’s locker room speech had the entire team revved up once again. They were more determined than ever to finish out the game on top. Whatever it took, the Titans would do it just so that they could secure the Championship title.

Brittany felt a renewed sense of motivation as well. With Coach’s speech and Santana’s words keeping her focused on the game, she was unstoppable – even if her elbow was still a little tender. If Lima wanted a show, she was going to give them the best damn one they’d ever seen.

Apparently, Carmel had the same idea in mind.

Both teams played hard, both teams played smart, but only one could come out on top. The score had been tied at 49 – 49 for the most part and with just four minutes left in regulation – one of the teams needed to make a play or they’d head into overtime.

Brittany thrived on that kind of pressure. She loves the buzz of energy, the restlessness of the crowd, the determined looks on her teammates’ faces. This is what champions are made of, moments like this where she can really show all the doubters that she can hang with the best of them.

“Alright we’ll do bootleg right,” Brittany calls the play, “Let’s use up some of the clock. Once we score, we don’t want them to have any time to make a play. Okay? Get some yardage and get out of bounds.”

Her teammates nod before they all break to get into formation. Brittany takes her place too but first glances to the sidelines where she sees Santana cheering her on. Behind her is the entire hockey team and Brittany chuckles to herself when she sees they all look pretty invested in the game too.

“Down!” She calls out and her O-Line moves accordingly, “Down…HUT!”

The ball is snapped but the pocket never forms; Jackson and Ridley get overpowered almost instantly so Brittany has to scramble. She’s looking left, she’s looking right but no one’s open. She thinks about throwing it away, but with so little time left on the game clock, she can’t risk getting intercepted.

She has to tuck the ball in and run like hell.

Matt sees Brittany’s in trouble and tries to run along with her to offer some type of protection and with his help, Brittany’s able to cut the corner on her defender. She gets a few yards before she steps out of bounds.

As she slows herself down so she doesn’t collide into any of the photographers there, a Carmel defender gives her an unexpected shove. Brittany tries to soften her fall as she’s pushed into the bystanders she was trying so hard to avoid. She can hear the player trying to taunt her while the ref places the spot of the ball, but she doesn’t bite. Brittany’s teammates yell back at the Carmel defender who laid the late hit thought and question the ref’s lack of penalty.

“Yo Ref!” Matt calls out, “You awake or you’re just going to let them get away with that?”

“I’m saying!” Jackson adds, “How much they paying you?”

“Don’t guys,” Brittany says as she tries getting them to move on, “It’s alright. I’m good.”

Although Brittany agrees with them, the ref motions for the game to continue on. She can see Coach Beiste getting all red in the face at that, but Brittany can only get her guys into position once again.

With just minutes left on the clock, the Titans have to move fast and get out of bounds so they have the time to reset. If it gets to overtime then so be it, but Brittany would rather they wrap the game up now while they have the chance.

“Okay, let’s get in range first before we dazzle them,” Brittany says, “Blue 32 West. Okay? Blue 32 West.”

It’s a play action call so when the ball is snapped, Brittany fakes the hand off to Puck while Mike makes a run for the sideline. Along with Jackson, Puck offers more protection and secures the pocket long enough for Brittany to make a safe throw.

Mike brings it in virtually untouched and is able to get a few extra yards in before he’s tackled out of bounds. The clock stops but Brittany still pushes her team to hustle to their new line of scrimmage.

During the next quick huddle, Brittany tries to rally her guys. They’ve got to make a play now or at least get a new set of downs. They can’t turn the ball over at their current position, that would basically give the win to Carmel. They could try to get within field goal range and bring Kurt and special teams out for an extra 3 points?

But Brittany’s never liked doing the bare minimum to win a game.

What they need is something…unexpected.

“I want to try that trick play again,” Brittany mentions and everyone starts to disagree. She’s quick to quiet them down, “I know, I know. It didn’t work out too well the first time but that’s exactly why we should do it now. They won’t expect us to try it again. Coach worked it out with me during halftime, we just need to get to the 10 yard line.”

A few of the guys still look unsure though.

“Scared QBs don’t make plays,” Brittany tells them, “I’m not scared. Are you?”

There are mumbles of hell no and I ain’t scared.

“Okay then,” Brittany nods and holds out her fist, “Who’s with me?”

“I’m in,” Sam says as he puts his hand on top of hers.

Mike follows suit, “Me too.”

“Like I’ve always said…you’ve got balls, Pierce,” Puck chimes in, “I’m down.”

Everyone else joins and Brittany smiles at how they can all come together as one cohesive unit. They’ve grown so much since she first joined the team!

“Alright, let’s do this!” Brittany cheers.

The Titans run up to their new line of scrimmage with less than a minute left in the regulation, but before Brittany can call the next play, Carmel takes a time out.

Brittany straightens up as the ref blows his whistle to signal the time out.

“Figures,” Brittany sighs as she loosens her chin strap.

They had great momentum going for them, but Carmel’s time out throws them off a little. Everyone��s starting to get a little anxious with so little time left on the clock, but Brittany does her best to keep the Titans focused.

Meanwhile, the Camels look nervous as they glance at the Titans. It’s not too common that they have such a close game like this. They’ve been a well oiled machined for so long, stacking up wins for years but Brittany and the Titans have thrown them for a loop.

All Brittany can do is stare back determinedly.

“Look at them,” Puck jokes, “They’re scared as shit.”

“Should be,” Sam smirks, “They’re about to get their asses handed to them.”

At that, one defender – the one that laid the late hit on Brittany – looks over his shoulder at them and sneers.

“What the hell you looking at, Punk?” Puck challenges.

“Easy,” Brittany warns, “They’re just trying to throw you off. Let’s focus here. Everyone know their routes?”

She goes on to confirm that everyone knows what they’re meant to do for this next play. She feels confident about it this time, because she’s not going to let her team down twice in one night. It’s the last play of the game, the last play of her high school career. There’s no way she’s going to blow it.

“Okay this is it, guys,” Brittany tells her team, “This is what we’ve worked all season for, this moment right here. We know what to do, let’s show them. Let’s shut this game down already! Titans on me, Titans on three. One…two…three!”

Everyone puts their fists up and chants together, “Titans!”

The 30 second time out goes by quickly and soon everyone’s coming together again at the line of scrimmage. It looks like Carmel is going to blitz which would’ve stopped Brittany’s version of the trick play but not with Coach Beiste’s tweaks.

Still, Brittany stays focused. She can’t get too confident just yet. Anything can happen.

“Down!” She calls out before stomping her foot. Sam runs to her left while Puck stays in position on her right, “Hut…HUT!”

The ball is snapped and it’s kind of like a game of hot potato. First it’s in her hands then she smoothly hands it off to Puck. They split off in opposite directions while Puck keeps the ball tucked under his arm until he’s within reaching distance of Sam. The ball is then handed off for a third time as Sam makes a grab for it and quickly gets into a throwing stance.

The Camels are all sorts of confused and in that confusion, Brittany is able to slip through a gap in the defenders where Mike is drawing out his man. With all eyes mostly focused on Sam, Puck and Mike – no ones watching Brittany.

The quarterback runs as fast as she can for the endzone while Matt runs alongside her, offering protection from the Cornerback who is on her tail yet again. This time though, she’s too fast for him and when Sam launches the ball in her direction she’s wide open.

All she has to do now is make the catch.

For a moment, it feels like time stops and everyone goes quiet as the ball sails through the air in a perfect spiral. Brittany keeps her eye on it just like her dad taught her and runs like hell until she is positioned underneath of it.

But the ball is slightly over thrown so Brittany has to reach up high for it. At the last moment, she turns and jumps up, the tips of her cleats scrape the turf as she makes the catch. She hangs on for dear life as the final seconds tick away and game buzzer sounds. She does her best to secure the ball to her chest but the sudden change in momentum has her falling to the ground on her back.

But she lands with the ball still in her arms!

Her breath is caught in her throat but she quickly rolls to her side to find the nearest ref. She’s praying to anyone that’s listening that she has landed in bounds and in the endzone, because if not? That would’ve been the greatest play for nothing.

It’s the longest second in the world and she doesn’t begin to breathe again until she sees both of the ref’s arms shoot up.

“Touchdown!” The ref signals.

The crowd erupts in applause and soon Brittany’s being hoisted in the air by her teammates Santana’s got Coach Sylvester’s megaphone in hand, using it to cheer Brittany on. Even the Puck Heads are whooping and hollering for them but it’s hard for Brittany to hear any one thing. All she hears is the loud roar of the crowd, of her teammates, of the entire town of Lima celebrating the win.

On that cold December night, Brittany led the William McKinley High School Titans to their first Championship victory in over thirty years with a final score of 56 – 49.

A giant orange cooler of Gatorade is being dumped on Coach Beiste and Brittany’s being carried on the shoulders of her teammates while everyone cheers them on. The Titans were the underdogs and they put on a great show and came out on top.

Brittany’s nearly too stunned for words.

The guys eventually put her down in favor of celebrating with their friends and families and significant others who have begun to take to the field and Brittany finds a familiar sense of déjà vu as she watches on.

Just a few weeks ago, she was in this exact place – staring up at the stadium lights wishing that she could have what everyone else does. To love or be loved openly, to share this great moment with someone special just like everyone else. It’s hard not to feel envious because even though she’s surrounded by all of these people and she’s come so far, she’s still never felt so –

“Hey Pierce!”

Brittany’s heart skips a beat because she knows that voice. It’s one she didn’t expect to hear so close by but she turns anyway and finds Santana giving her this smug grin in the sea of people on the field.

It’s such a sense of relief and it gets even better because soon Santana’s jumping into her arms. Brittany surprises herself by how readily she catches her and hoists the girl up. Their smiles are big and bright and then Brittany’s being kissed so deeply and it just about takes her breath away again – so much so in fact that Brittany loses grip of her helmet and it falls forgotten at their feet.

It’s a kiss like that that makes it all worth it in the end. The battles they’ve faced on and off the field, together and on their own, it pales in comparison to this moment right here. Because in this moment, beneath the bright stadium lights, Brittany doesn’t feel so lost anymore.

In fact, she’s never felt so found.

When they pull away from each other seconds later, Brittany wears this pleased half-smirk and the look makes Santana let out a chuckle. Brittany’s head is swimming in the high of that kiss and the win and she’s still a little dazed but then a flash of a camera makes her quickly remember where they are and more importantly – who’s watching.

She lets down Santana gently as she takes a look around uneasily. Crowds have already started to gather as the two teams form lines to shake hands and congratulate each other, but in amongst the players and coaches and family and friends are the cameras. It makes Brittany feel suddenly protective as she pulls Santana a little closer to her, remembering Santana’s words from earlier.

“You know people are starting to stare, right?” Brittany mentions softly before looking to Santana, “Not that I’m complaining or anything, because I’ve always wanted to do that – especially with you and it was everything that I’ve ever dreamed of – but there are cameras pointed at us and you said earlier that...” Brittany loses track of her thoughts as she looks to the stands and sees Santana’s family alongside her own and her jaw just about drops, “Holy shit, Santana, your dad is over there and he does not look – “

“I love you,” Santana says all in one breath.

Brittany’s swivels back to Santana in an instant, “You…”

Did her ears deceive her? How hard did she fall on that last play? Oh my God, did she hit her head? Is she concussed now? Her lips move but no words come out. Maybe she really is concussed?

“Pierce!” Coach Beiste calls out to her.

Brittany’s lips part before she’s looking to her coach.

“I got someone I want to introduce you to,” Coach tells her as she gestures to a broad-shouldered man wearing an Ohio State cap.

Brittany nods, still just as speechless. She’s caught between her present and her future, but her feet don’t move. She wants to clarify what she heard Santana say. She wants to shout her response from the top stands of the bleachers but she’s so speechless.

“You should go,” Santana tells her, “You don’t want to keep them waiting.”

Brittany swallows hard and nods. She doesn’t want Santana to get the wrong idea, but so much is happening all at once and it’s like her voice has stopped working.

“I’ve got to go deal with something too,” Santana adds and looks towards the stands where Hector and Maribel await her, “I don’t think I can run forever so...”

Brittany frowns at her cryptic words and it adds to the list of things she wants to talk about, but Santana’s already saying her goodbyes.

As she turns to walk away, something kickstarts in Brittany and she reaches out to catch Santana by the hand.

“Wait,” Brittany stammers, thankful that she has suddenly found her voice again, “I – I’ll see you at Puck’s later, right?”

Santana glances at her dad and shrugs, “If I’m not grounded for the rest of my life.”

“Pierce!” Coach calls out to her again.

“Coming!” Brittany answers and looks apologetically back at Santana, “I’m sorry I – “

“It’s okay. Go,” Santana gives her hand a gentle squeeze before letting it go, “Great game, B. I always knew you could do it.”

Brittany can only return the weak smile before they’re being drawn to go their separate ways.

#its been forever and a day I know...#Lost in the Lights #Brittana #brittana fanfiction #QB!Britt

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w1ngfanchu · 3 years

Text

Idk, enjoy this crackfic! Happy birthday Otto!!! Chusi don’t look, tw blood, caps, death, cursing, religion/god/heaven/hell mention, fire mention

Wing pulled his raven dark hair into a messy bun, and gazed at his dark brown orbs in the mirror. He could see them sparkle in the reflection. He heard a knock at the door.

“come in!” he cried, with a deep, husky voice. His father, cypher, walked in and sat on his bed.

“Hello son” he said, his voice grave and unfamiliar due to the years Wing had gone without hearing it, “I have some news.” Wing sat down beside his father. “Wing, I am eloping with your friend Nigel’s dad, Mr Darkdoom. I do not want him to see the family disappointment so I am sending you away to live with your aunt. Pack your things, you have 10 minutes.” With that he left, and wing could see his glassy orbs stained with tears that glistened like raindrops.

“HOW COULD YOU” he shouted at the closed door, but there was no response. Packing his things, he reflected on where he would go, as mother gothel, who shared his ebony black hair, lived in Italy. Nobody knew her real name, though some suspected it was Maria.

Suddenly there was a knock at the door. Wing ran downstairs, tears flying out of his dark sight balls. When it opened there she was, Mother Gothel.

“hello nephew, get in the car.” He listened and sat, his movements seemingly uncontrollable. The drive to the airport was silent. Wing could see a picture of God, and his inhuman face, on the window, and it felt as if it was staring into his dark soul. For Wing wasn’t like other people, as instead of makeup and talking about politics, he studied deities and myths. The car stopped. They got on a plane and flew to Italy.

When Wing woke up, he was in a strange room. He was scared. The door opened and Mother Gothel came inside. “Nephew dearest, I have…business to attend to. While I am gone I have sent for someone to keep you company. He is from another powerful family as I do not want you interacting with the wrong sort. Get changed and breakfast is downstairs.” She left, and he felt so small in such a big room.

Wing went downstairs after getting changed, and started spreading ruby or blood red jam with a surprisingly sharp knife that glistened like jewels on some snow white bread when the doorbell rang. He went to open it, and when he did, he dropped the knife in shock. The creature at the door had spiky white hair, beautiful in the light of the sun, and the face of a weasel on an otherwise human body, which was wearing a black jumpsuit. Lightning fast, Wing watched the creature snap his fingers and saw the knife now hovering just above his left foot.

“Hi. You must be Wing. I can already tell you are special, as you seem to be able to observe my true form.” His voice was beautiful, and the sound was heaven in Wing’s ears. “My name is Ottoious Britain Lucy Number One Weasel the third, but you may call me Otto Weasel.” Otto Weasel. The name was as beautiful as the boy himself.

“nice to meet you” wing stammered, feeling his cheeks grow hot. “thank you for saving me” Wing saw Otto smile and his cheeks grew hotter. Otto Weasel’s blue orbs twinkled like the sun reflecting in the sea, only prettier. Otto Weasel was walking inside and setting down a giant bat and a suitcase. Wing felt his heart beat faster at the thought of this amazing person-weasel? Person living in the same house as him. He felt blessed to even be in the same room as him now.

They spent the day in the mansion, Otto Weasel doing things no human should be able to do. He would summon snacks and riches seemingly out of nowhere, and would toss Wing up so high but catch him every time. He made flowers grow from the marble floors, thick vines filled with grapes, which tasted almost sweeter than the sound of Otto Weasel’s voice when he laughed. When Mother Gothel came home, they ate and went to bed.

The next day, Otto Weasel took Wing outside, barely pushing past the vines that covered the house, and they ran through the streets of Italy, hand in unlovable hand. It took wing a minute to realise that they had started floating, legs no longer pushing the ground but the air while they ran. Looking at Otto Weasel’s glorious weasel face, his sparkling ice blue seeing balls seemed familiar.

“Otto Weasel” Wing started “Otto Weasel, can I ask you something?” Wing stammered, his stomach twisting.

“Yes” came Otto Weasel’s response, “but first I will ask you a question” Otto Weasel continued, his pale cheeks redder than rubies. “Wing, will you be my human boyfriend?” he spluttered, squeezing Wing’s hand.

“Otto Weasel, I thought you would never ask!” wing replied, also blushing. “ Of course I will go out with you. You are my entire world. Where you go, I go” Seeing Otto Weasel’s smile made all of Wing’s worries melt away, despite the fact that they were floating very high off the ground.

“Love, you have not asked your question” Came Otto Weasel’s voice. Wing suddenly felt foolish but he had to ask now.

“Are you god?” Wing asked, before turning away.

“If you want me to be” Otto Weasel replied, as he started bringing them back down to the ground.

When they went back to the mansion, Mother Gothel looked furious. Her ebony hair was pulled into a bun and her eyes held the fury of hell. She sent them both up without dinner, but they had not told her about their new relationship or dinner would not be the only thing they lost that day.

When Wing woke up, he stretched his arms which felt as heavy as lead. He went downstairs to see Otto Weasel chanting quietly under his breath.

“Good morning Otto Weasel, what are you doing?” But Otto Weasel did not stop. Wing felt himself grow tired, and collapsed onto the ground. He was dreaming, he saw bright lights, and strangers. One had blood red hair and was speaking in a Scottish accent. Another was blonde and swinging on vines, though it looked like she was flying. There were two boys, holding hands and eating cake while the one with glasses, who looked extremely like Wing’s friend Nigel, was watering a plant with red liquid. There was also an old man, standing beside a woman with swords covered in heavenly fire, and they were speaking to a man, a familiar man. His father’s new husband.

“these were my friends” Otto Weasel’s voice appeared in his head. He could see them, standing on what seemed to be a cloud bathed in blue light, and Wing could vaguely see something bright and golden in the background-

Wing was jolted upright. Otto Weasel’s expression was blank, as if nothing had happened. Wing got up and they ate breakfast in silence, which was only broken once by Wing’s quiet gasp as Otto Weasel put his hand on top of his.

After breakfast they got up and Wing went to his room to study the schoolbooks Mother Gothel had left for him to revise. Wing opened his religion studies book and saw a face similar to Otto Weasel’s but older. Wing couldn’t focus on his books, not with Otto Weasels sharp Snow White hair, his beautiful pale face, and his laughter like the bells of heaven on his mind. So Wing went to find his beloved Otto Weasel.

When he did, Otto weasel took his hand and showed him around the mansion. His heart fluttering, he could do nothing but follow as Otto weasel led him to the cinema, where they sat under the dimmed lights to watch Wing’s favourite movie, Cars 2. During the movie, Wing gave Otto Weasel a blood red rose, and they were both silent apart from the sound of their beating hearts.

And just as Mater met Finn, Wing felt the gentle press of Otto Weasel’s romantically weaselly lips upon his. Wing felt sparks fly across his body, and felt the world melt away until it was only him, Otto Weasel and the talking cars. The kiss felt like hellfire, passionate and warm, but also like the springs of heaven, comforting and calm. They broke apart after a few short minutes and watched to the end of the movie. They left holding hands, and went upstairs to study together. When Mother Gothel came home, they ate then went to bed.

The next week passed similarly. Wing and Otto Weasel’s bond strengthened and things were almost perfect. But Wing was having nightmares. The people he had seen during breakfast, the people on the cloud were yelling terrible things. They were telling him to run, run far away while he still could. Wing decided to keep these from Otto Weasel as he had been looking stressed that day, and Wing felt bad to burden him with his own problems too.

A few more days passed, and mother Gothel still did not know about their relationship. And today, Otto Weasel looked more stressed than ever. Then at breakfast, just after Mother Gothel was leaving, Otto Weasel slipped Wing a note. It read “my love, you must escape. Leave and never look back”. He felt Otto Weasels soft, once gentle hands push him towards the door, panic in Otto Weasel’s ocean blue orbs. But there was a problem. Mother Gothel was still there and had a good reason. The vibes Otto Weasel had made so long ago were now blocking the door completely, not a hint of outside could be seen.

Mother Gothel snatched the note and read it. Her face twisted into a frown, and she stared at them. She was about to speak when suddenly blue light radiated from the roof.

They heard a voice booming across the mansion “OTTOIOUS BRITAIN LUCY NUMBER ONE WEASEL THE THIRD” It cried, shaking the ground, “YOU HAVE MADE A TERRIBLE MISTAKE” Otto Weasel’s eyes flashed, a dangerous look on his face. “MARIA” the voice continued, “YOU KNOW WHAT YOU MUST DO”

Mother Gothel turned to Otto Weasel. “Wing. Who is he really?” She asked, not taking her eyes off Otto Weasel.

“God?” Wing whispered, flinching at the pain on Otto Weasel’s face.

“GOD?” Mother Gothel yelled “YOU THINK HE IS GOD?” Her face was contorted and she looked to be in pain. “Tell him” she cried at Otto Weasel “let him know what you really are”

Otto Weasel walked slowly towards his boyfriend. Standing on his tiptoes, he held Wing’s chin to point it down at him. “Wing I have not fully been honest with you” he started, voice cracking, “I’ve betrayed the ones I live, I’ve betrayed you.” Otto Weasel pushed a loose strand of Wing’s hair behind his ears. “I was told to do one thing. And I failed. Because I was selfish. I wanted to keep you safe, safe from Him, but in doing so, I’ve damned us all” Otto Weasel’s orbs were glistening with bushes tears, dewdrops on his rosy cheeks..

“Otto Weasel, what are you talking about?” Wing’s question came out in a fast rush of emotion. He hated the pain on his lovers face.

“Your stepfather. You may not know it, but he is an angel. He was coming to visit, but he was bringing along someone i knew would hurt you. He brought your dad. So I’ve kept them trapped in this very house, in a room you couldn’t see, to keep you safe. But now they’re free. And they want revenge.” Just as he finished Wing aww two people walk in. Darkdoom, and his father, armed with a gun. Pointed right at him.

Otto Weasel raised his arm at Cypher. Mother Gothel started towards him then stopped “Otto Weasel, you know what will happen if you hurt gods son in law”

“I do. And I don’t care. If Anyone hurts wing I will stop at nothing to get my revenge. His love is worth more than the lives of anyone in this planet and I will fuck your up if you hurt him” Wing felt himself blush, but was unable to move. He still couldn’t move when he saw his father’s hand squeeze the trigger. He couldn’t move as he saw the bullet flying at him. But he could move to look down to see red stains on his white shirt.

Otto Weasel screamed a bloodcurdling scream. The ground shook as Wing fell to the floor, helpless as the world started to burn, flames pouring from Otto Weasel’s hand, heading towards Cypher. Wing felt Otto Weasel fall next to him and cradle his face, as a portal of fire and screams opened up next to him. Mother Gothels last words came “hell is your home now Otto Weasel but I shall share it with you” with that she lunged at cypher and threw his gun at Wing.

Otto Weasel’s beautiful voice, dampened by the curse of sadness reached his ears “Wing you know what will happen if you do this” he said, as wing drowsily turned the gun upon the man who used to be his father. “I know, my love” he said, finger on the trigger, and he quietly gasped as he felt Otto Weasel’s hand cover his for the last time on Earth. “Otto Weasel I-“

“I know what I’m doing Wing. Of course I will go out with you. You are my entire world. Where you go, I go. And if that is hell, then j will gladly accept my fate, as long as you are there with me”

Together they pulled the trigger and watched as Cypher fell. The portal came closer as wing felt the world fading away, his love’s face getting farther and farther away. The red of hellfire matching the red of Otto Weasel’s blush, and Wing knew that existence without Otto Weasel was a fate worse than death.

But when Wing woke up, he was bathed in blue light, so alone in the void that is eternity.

And when Otto Weasel woke up, bathed in red light, he knew it was all for nothing. Wing was gone and he was alone, so alone in the void that is eternity.

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serendipitee · 3 years

Note

Hello Bea 💛 Happy birthday! 🎉 Hope it’s a good one! #27 - Juke for the meet cute prompts?

Thank you and oh my god, this is so late! But it has puppies and ice cream and ‘wicked beauty’ references thrown in there, so I really hope you like it!! 💛🐾

27. You help catch their dog when the leash slips from their hand.

Luke doesn’t even know how he ended up like this.

Well, it might’ve to do with him being a sucker and unable to say ‘no’ to Reggie. There is also the fact, that his best friend’s two dogs have him wrapped around their little finger (paw? whatever!) and he loves spending time with them.

So, Luke is the best friend of best friends and agreed to take them out, while Reggie goes on a date he’d been gushing about for days.

He regrets that now. Because he is basically hugging a tree at this point, the two puppies barking excitedly, straining the leashes in two very different directions and Luke hates his life!

In his head, they were gonna go to the park, play around a little, enjoy the sunshine. He’d get some pictures to send to Alex, make him jealous because he decided to go on tour with his skater boyfriend while Luke gets to hang out with to adorable dogs. He definitely got the better end of that deal if you ask him.

But well, things happened, leashes crossed each other, Finn wanted to go to the lake while Jake most certainly didn’t and Luke got caught in the middle of it.

And now, Jake’s leash is slipping and Luke is praying, calling out for the pup but it’s for naught. A moment later, the leather connecting them is gone and he starts cursing colorfully.

Of course, that is the second Finn chooses to calm down again and with an exasperated heave, Luke untangles himself from the tree.

“Really?” He asks the puppy which is staring up at him with big, dark eyes, cocking his head and letting out a cheeky bark. “Hilarious,” he grumbles, before looking around.

Jake isn’t the quickest, still learning to use his legs properly but Luke can’t spot him anywhere. Suddenly dread pools in his stomach because he did not just lose his best friend’s new puppy, did he? Reggie is gonna never trust him again. It’ll ruin their friendship.

Freaking out in earnest now, he starts making his way into the direction Jake originally wanted to go. He just hopes, the pup stuck with it which is a stretch. It’s a puppy. Do they even think?

“Jake!” Luke calls the name again and again, already dreading the next recording session because, he’ll ruin his voice with the panic interlacing it, but he really doesn’t care right now. “Jake! C’mon here, boy!”

Finn is following him, tongue lolling out and Luke would stop, take a picture because it is ridiculously cute, but there’s an iron fist around his heart and he really needs to find Jake.

“Excuse me, have you seen a puppy?” He starts asking random people. “Looks kind of like this one” – queue pointing at the dog by his feet – “but a little darker.”

All he gets are head shakes until he reaches a young boy with curly dark hair. “Yeah, I saw him over by the food stands.”

Of course. Jake loves pizza almost as much as Reggie does. He should’ve guessed. Not that he gets it that often. At least, Luke doesn’t think so. Pizza isn’t on a dog’s diet, right?

“Do you want me to show you?” The kid asks eagerly and Luke is about to nod, when the boy flinches as somebody calls his name.

“Carlos! ¿Dónde has estado?” A girl storms down the path towards them and Luke’s brain screeches to a halt.

Even with the crease between her brows and the frown on her lips, she’s beautiful. Wild curls framing her face, a soft orange blouse tucked into a pair of fitting black jeans. She must’ve doodled on them, because he can spot stars and words on the thighs and he knows he’s gaping, there’s just nothing he can do about it.

“Sorry,” Carlos says quickly, “but he lost his dog and I’m gonna help him find it.”

“The dog’s right there,” comments the girl drily, raising an eyebrow and eyes flitting between the two of them as if contemplating the possibility of them pulling her leg.

“The other dog,” Carlos clarifies and Luke nods dumbly.

He still hasn’t managed to connect his mouth with his brain. Honestly, he’s a little afraid to do so because every thought that’s running rampant in there is some variation of ‘she’s beautiful’.

‘Wicked beauty’ screams the part responsible for making his songs sound award-worthy and isn’t that the truth?

She turns to him, leveling him with stare, crossing her arms in front of her chest. About to say something, she gets interrupted by the boy again. “Can we help him look? Julie, please?”

A sigh is followed by a look of softness at the boy and then she nods, all while Luke is internally freaking out about finding out her name.

“Yeah, sure, Dad’s not picking us up for another half hour.” Julie shrugs and looks at Luke expectantly.

Oh, right, he’s supposed to say something now, isn’t he? “Uh, thanks- thanks, that’s, uh, your- Carlos said, he saw him by the food stands?”

Very smooth, Luke, chastens a voice that sounds too much like Alex for his liking.

They do find Jake right next to the ice cream truck. He doesn’t go down without a fight, though. It takes all three of them to finally grab the leash because apparently, the little guy finally figured out how to use his legs.

Twice they almost had him, him and Julie reaching for the leash at the same time but every time their fingers touched, they’d both drawn back, the leather slipping away and Jake letting out a triumphant bark.

It’s Carlos who finally grabs it, pumping his fist in victory and Julie laughs, while Finn jumps up and down, the excitement of hunting after his brother obviously still thrumming through his little body.

“That was,” Julie starts, “not how I expected to spend my Saturday afternoon.”

Luke feels bad immediately. They’re both breathing a little heavy, looking a little worse for wear, sweat glistening on their foreheads but Julie still is radiant and he feels the need to apologize. “I’m sorry, that’s- uh, really... sorry.”

She waves him off, watching Carlos play with the two puppies at their feet. “It’s fine. We could use the laugh.”

He notices the weight suddenly appearing on her shoulders and it takes everything in him not to overstep and ask outright. Instead, he ducks his head. “Can I repay you somehow?”

Alex would’ve been proud. That was smooth.

There’s a small smile on her lips when she looks at him. Luke is sure, that he’ll sit down and write a verse about those damn lips as soon as he gets home. Maybe one about her eyes as well. The thought of ‘wicked beauty’ comes back almost forcefully, knocking a breath from his lungs.

“Well, we already are at the ice cream truck, so…”

“Yeah, okay, I can do that.” He stumbles over Finn’s leash, catching himself at the last second and Julie’s chuckling softly. Rubbing the back of his neck, he bites his lips. “I’m Luke, by the way.”

“Nice to meet you, Luke.” Julie says, eyes sparkling and yeah, yep, definitely gonna write about those, too.

#juke fic #jatp fic #juke #julie x luke #jukebox #this is so very late and I am really sorry!!!#but I feel like I am back #so I'm gonna sit down and finish the other prompts on my list!#THANK YOU AGAIN FOR THE PROMPT AND THE WELL WISHES!!!!#my writing #meet cutes

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ithebookhoarder · 3 years

Text

Chapter 10: Four Years Later. (The Gangster’s Daughter)

Masterlist:

Also available on AO3:

Warnings: Original Character(s), Canon-Typical Violence, Grief/Mourning, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Explicit Language, Gangsters, Period Typical Attitudes, Parent Tommy Shelby, Implied/Referenced Dubious Consent.

1919

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Time had never gone by so slowly. Ever. Of that, Evie was sure.

Never before, had a second felt so much like a minute, nor a minute felt so much like an hour. It was driving her insane as she sat at the kitchen table, eyes fixed firmly on the clock hanging by the door. The peeler in her hand had long since stopped, as had the two black hands dangling teasingly on the clock face.

“Come on,” Evie whispered. Somehow, she hoped willing it would be enough to hurry time up. To push the hands further round and towards the hour. The hour she’d been waiting so long for. Hell, even Finn and Ada sat beside her, completing their chores in an attempt to distract themselves.

Waiting was not a Shelby strong suit.

Ada yawned, visibly uninterested in the task at hand. She had also given up on her task of de-podding peas. Then again, it wasn’t just impatience to blame for her lack of productivity. The exhaustion was all too clear in Ada’s eyes. She probably had only got back a few hours ago from Freddie’s. Since he’d returned from the war a couple weeks ago they’d been all over each other.

Before the war, they’d been bad enough, beginning to scurry about the streets together on secret dalliances. However, separated by the sea, Ada had been writing him, slipping him letters in the wedge she delivered to the post office on behalf of all of them. Polly, Finn, Evie, Martha and Ada had all written to their family, telling them tales of life in Birmingham without them.

It had felt like a world away from Small Heath. The closest they’d got were the letters frequently dropped to and from France, detailing and describing the carnage and chaos abroad. True, Ada had passionately decided to become a nurse only a few months into the war, to travel and join the fighting in France. However, less than one lesson later, the plan had disintegrated.

It was unfair. Or so Evie had griped. Why couldn’t she train as a nurse even if Ada didn’t want to? Why couldn’t she drop out of school and go help her father and uncles? What use was arithmetic anyway at a time like this?

“You’re still a child,” Polly had explained, trying and failing to pacify her. “War is no place for children.”

“Tell that to the boys my age enlisting, pretending they’re older!”

Polly had sighed, wiping her hands on her apron and lighting another cigarette. “If I could, I would. I’d like to shake some sense into every bloody man who wants to join this blood soaked shit show. However, I swore I’d look after you and this family until the others come home. You are my responsibility and I will not allow anyone else from this house to risk their lives!”

And that had been that. Evie hadn’t dared raise it again, and luckily for Polly, this whole mess had ended just shy of her being legally old enough to volunteer herself. Otherwise, there would have been a whole other war raging, this time in Small Heath.

However, Polly’s best intentions hadn’t been enough to keep everyone in Small Heath safe until the others returned.

It had only been a matter of months after John had left that Martha had gone into labour with their latest child. He’d been excited by the prospect before he’d gone off to war, boasting about the stories he’d have to tell their child when he returned - and soon, considering the way the government said things were going. It’d be over by Christmas. That was what they said.

In a way it had been; the life they’d all known before had ended and all too abruptly.

It had been less than twenty four hours after giving birth to a beautiful baby boy that Martha began to feel unwell. What had at first been a minor fever and headache had quickly turned into something far more sinister.

In a matter of a week she had succumbed to what was later realised to be a sudden wave of fever in the city, leaving her three children parentless and in the care of the remaining Shelbys. Of course, John was informed via letter and the funeral held swiftly.

Evie didn’t know what to think. It had been enough to rattle them all. So much so, there had been an uneasy truce in the house ever since. No one upset the others, knowing that they only had each other to care for them. They had to stick together. Not just then but always. Who knew if the others were coming back, after all.

All they could count on were the people in that house on Watery Lane and the community that flocked around them in their time of need. For example, Evie lost track of the people who offered to watch her cousins or brought them food they’d made. Most of them had been women who’d come to take their husband’s place at the betting shop.

Together, they had muddled through, their own little community.

Years had passed since then and life had carried on. Until a mere month ago, when the announcement had been made. The war was over. The boys would be coming home.

Now the day was finally here and Evie felt like she could explode with anxiety and anticipation. It was why, as soon as the clock hit the designated hour she was gone.

She didn’t look back, despite hearing the sound her name bellowing behind her as she burst out the door and into the street. Ada, Finn and Polly could stay and prepare lunch if they wanted, but Evie couldn’t wait a damn second more as she sprinted through the street like a wild stallion.

Her eyes remained fixed firmly on the horizon, aiming for the giant brickwork building ahead. The rising plumes of steam and roar of voices were all a blur to her, a blur confirming she was in the right place as she barged past porters and taxis.

Birmingham Train station.

Weeks they’d been stuck in France, waiting for a ride home but they were here now. Arriving on the morning train, just as her father had promised they would be.

So close. They were so close.

Evie didn’t stop until she was on the very platform, eyes focused on the shining train that had drawn to a halt.

A great whine of gears. The brakes hissed. Then the doors opened.

Four years she’d waited for this. Four agonising years, filled with agony that no letter or prayer could fill. Until she saw them there, in person, for herself, she wouldn’t believe it was true - the war was finally over.

Doors began to open and men in uniforms descended in droves, bags and hats flying. The tears, cheers, and fears erupted in a mass symphony of life as people began to run, merging passengers and onlookers in one ocean of bodies.

Evie didn’t know which way was up. She’d never been the tallest of people and she was once again regretting her shorter stature as she jumped up and down on her tiptoes. Her eyes kept darting frantically around the place.

They had to be here somewhere. She could feel it in her bones…

Then she saw them. Well, she saw Arthur to be precise, jumping down from one of the carriages before making way for John. He’d always been hard to miss, more so with his overgrown moustache and loud cheers of relief to be back on Birmingham soil.

“Uncle Arthur! John!” she screamed, hurrying frantically toward them. They barely had time to turn before she was on them, flinging her arms about their necks and peppering their cheeks with kisses. To hell with the Shelby aversion to public displays, Evie was too damned overwhelmed to care. The laughs and hugs she received in return proved they didn’t care either.

“God damn, you grew,” Arthur scoffed, spinning her round and laughing as he took her in. Four years was indeed a long time for anybody, and Evie’s teenage body definitely betrayed the separation, almost like the lines on his forehead did him. “Just get a look at you. Some welcome wagon. Aren’t we lucky bastards.”

“The others are back home waiting. They can’t wait to see you all, the famed heroes.”

“I bet they are,” John grinned, taking his own turn to hug his niece. “I’d kill for a slice of Pol’s gin cake right about now. I’ve only had a bleeding sandwich all day.”

“Hopefully, John you’ll never have to kill for anything again.”

That was the voice that shattered any composure Evie had been holding on to as she turned.

“Dad?” she whispered. “Is it… is it you?”

He nodded. “I promised I’d come back, ey?”

The tears were strong as she staggered into his arms. Her legs threatened to go from beneath her as she tried to control the tidal wave of emotion that flooded through her. She simply let him cradle her to his chest, the itchy wool of his uniform pressed against her cheek.

She didn’t even care. It was merely more proof that this moment was real. It wasn’t a dream or some fantasy. It was real and solid and here. It was everything she’d hoped it would be and more. After all, she hadn’t dared hope they’d all look so in tact, so healthy compared to the previous train loads of injured and sick soldiers that had been pouring into the city for months now.

Yet, here they stood. Barely a scratch on them - just like their letters had said.

“I told you,” her father breathed, as if sensing her thoughts. “I keep my promises.”

“I know,” Evie sobbed. “I knew you would. You all would. I just… it’s been so long waiting for this moment and now that you’re all here I… I…”

“We know,” John muttered sympathetically. The thin sheen in his eyes told them he knew exactly how she was feeling.

It all felt too good to be true. Any moment she felt as if she’d wake up and this would fade away like sand slipping between her fingers. It was why she was reluctant to release her grip on him, on her father, and let him grab the remainder of his belongings.

“Come on,” Arthur coaxed, clearing his throat in an attempt to prevent himself from being caught further in the emotional reunion. It wouldn’t do for Arthur Shelby to be seen weeping in public now. He may have been in France, but he still had a reputation to uphold. “Let’s get moving, eh? I need a fucking drink.”

“You and me both, brother,” Tommy laughed. “You and me both.”

-----------

The rest of the day passed in a wondrous blur.

From the moment they’d stepped foot back into Watery Lane it was as if the whole world had brightened. The sun escaped the cloud cover that had been masking it all day and the smiles on peoples faces were effervescent as they greeted the returning heroes.

Finn, Ada, John’s children, and Polly were all quick to throw their arms around the boys and sob with relief.

“You’re home. You’re really home,” Polly choked, kissing each over and over again until they were thoroughly smothered in her lip rouge. “Thank God.”

“We’re home and here to stay,” John grinned, scooping up his newest child into his arms. Only three, he was the very spitting image of his father. “Isn’t that right, son? Your old man’s home.”

The toddler whined but seemed to understand, pawing at John’s face as if sensing the tears John was doing very well to hide. It broke Evie’s heart, knowing how much Martha would have wanted to see this moment, as delayed as it was. Still, she hoped Martha was watching, wherever she was.

“Come on then, you’re probably famished,” Polly cooed, wiping her own eyes. Arthur had taken one look at the awaiting feast laid out on the kitchen table and cheered. It was only Polly that prevented them from tucking in right away. Instead, they’d all hurried upstairs to wash up, change, and join them back downstairs in time for lunch as per their aunt’s orders.

“You’re no longer in France,” Polly had chuckled. “I’m your commanding officer now. What I say goes.”

“Sir, yes, Sir!” Arthur scoffed, saluting her. Still, he knew better than to argue. It would be shit luck to have survived a war, only to come home and be murdered by Polly Gray. It was why he tried alternative tactics. Tactics that involved opening a bottle of champagne and hurling toasts left, right, and centre.

For all her posturing, Polly eased with every sip of champagne. Everyone was too happy to care about anything other than each other and rejoicing at the domestic scene. For example, no one said anything as Evie had a second glass of champagne, cheering as she watched the room. The laughter was like nothing she’d heard since the day they’d all left, accompanied by the soft hum of the gramophone.

Whatever song was playing though, was drowned out beneath the voices and a particularly bawdy song coming from John. Finn was joining in, much to his delight. Where he’d learned the lyrics, Evie couldn’t be sure. Had Polly been sober she probably would have. She’d most likely have put a stop to it too, rather than joining in.

Before long, the party had decide to migrate elsewhere.

“To the Garrison boys!” Arthur bellowed, met with a raucous cheer of approval.

“Come on,” Tommy smirked, offering Evie his arm as she rose from the table. “I think we can celebrate for one night. Even Pol can forget about a bedtime on a day like this.”

Considering she was already half way out the door, Evie suspected her dad could be right. And so it was, they spent the evening surrounded by an ocean of smiling drunken faces.

Evie danced with anyone who asked, laughing all the while as she twirled, letting the world dissolve into a jubilant haze. She felt euphoric - and that had nothing to do with the several large champagnes she’d thrown back.

It had more to do with the realisation that this was real, and not one of the many dreams she’d woken from, heartbroken, the last four years. Every face, once familiar but now a surprise, were real. She could reach out and touch them and they wouldn’t disappear in a puff of smoke.

Maybe that was why she jumped as she felt a heavy hand on her shoulder. A hand she’d recognise anywhere as her father grinned down at her.

“Dance for your old man?”

Evie laughed, eyebrows raising. “I thought you didn’t dance?”

“On the rare occasion I make an exception - mi’ lady.”

The sight of Tommy Shelby lowering in a mock bow, hand extended was enough to make tears of laughter prick at the corner of Evie’s eyes.

“Sir,” she smirked, struggling not to laugh as he pulled her into a rather good interpretation of a hold. Almost immediately they were swaying around the floor, laughing as they trod on each other’s toes and span about to the lively music. It was as if they were one of the couples she’d seen at the pictures, the whole world revolving around them.

Once upon a time, she’d been small enough that she’d stood on his toes when doing this. He’d held her against his chest, her grinning upwards. Now, though, she was tall enough to almost meet his eye. She could stand on her own two feet. She could dance just as well as he, even if she allowed him to lead.

Four years really was a long time. If she’d asked, Tommy would have told her such. As, for every new line or crease she saw on her father’s face, he saw an equally grown woman where a child had once stood.

For a moment as he’d got off that train, he’d thought Rebecca herself had come to greet him…

“Come on.”

“Tommy Shelby. No.”

“I’ve got you.”

“No. You’ll drop me,” Evie laughed, holding on for dear life as her father dipped her backwards, tilting her toward the floor before hauling her back upright in a well rehearsed motion.

Tommy just grinned. “See? I’ll never drop you.”

“One more drink and you would have!”

“Never,” he dismissed, laughing with her as the song came to an end. It was swiftly replaced with another. Most people didn’t even notice as they carried on dancing. “Another?”

“Why not?” Evie shrugged, already resuming their hold as she started to dance to the beat. It would take an act of God to interrupt her stride. “Otherwise Arthur’ll ask me again and I’m still recovering from the last dance.”

“I’m sure you are!”

----------

There was nothing overly spectacular about that party that night, not in comparison to the hundreds of other parties occurring across the country. Yet, it raged deep into the night and deep into the hearts of everyone there. For years after, they’d refer to this night with fond remembrance … well, those sober enough to remember it. Not everyone was in great condition come morning.

Evie herself had staggered into a chair at some point during the early morning, struggling to fight the oncoming exhaustion. Dancing all night had done her in. One yawn and she felt herself curl into the edge of the booth she’d chosen, letting sleep wash over her in waves.

She didn’t even realise she’d fallen asleep, not until she felt herself being scooped into someone’s arms some time later.

“Come on, let’s have you.”

She didn’t even need to open her eyes to know her father was responsible as he began to carry her towards the door and the early morning beyond it.

“You’ll be comfier at home, and Pol will gut me if I leave you on that chair any longer,” he continued softly, chuckling as he did. She could feel the way his chest vibrated with it; happiness.

“I’m glad you’re back, Gather,” Evie muttered, but she knew he’d heard her attempt.

“Me too, Chavi. Me too.” She hardly heard him speak in the ‘gypsy tongue’, or so Polly often called it when she was reading tea leaves or cursing about something. It was a soft sound, one that made her smile. “You’re almost too big for this now. It’s like carrying Arthur.”

Evie sniggered but yawned, choosing not to protest. She was just too damn happy to even try. Her family was back together again in one piece, and she knew when she awoke later that nothing could change that.

The Shelbys were home.

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