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xxjewellynwatts · 3 years

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The Wine Cellar - A Llewellyn Watts x OC (you!) story

Request: Hello:))) I've had another idea for a fluffy love confession for Llewellyn Watts (I'm a sucker for those😇) we know that Watts love wine so I thought about the reader and Watts getting drunk and kissing.... Let me know what you think:))))

Answer: Hello, dear! Terribly sorry for answering and writing very long after you requested! I hope you enjoy this, I’m not very good at writing about alcohol as I am very anti-alcohol myself so I did my best!

As a woman making it in history books (unbeknownst to you) as the first lady hired as a detective in a Canadian police station in the 19th century, you sure were a secretive, focused and serious person.

People enjoyed being around you, you were funny when you wanted to, but also very interesting to listen to for you had extravagant and insightful ideas. Detective Murdoch had quickly grown accustomed to discussing physics theories with you, so had constable George Crabtree when discussing ideas for his stories, and so had Dr. Ogden as you were always keen to discuss new discoveries in the fields of medicine but also psychology and much more.

Truly, the only person who seemed to be unable to get as close to you was Llewellyn Watts. When you had joined the Station n°4, he was already working there and you two had had very brief and courteous conversations that were always surrounding work. He had grown accustomed to watching you from afar as you worked diligently at your desk or as you walked around a crime scene with Detective Murdoch. He enjoyed your quiet presence around him very much albeit he would have rather preferred you discussed with him and showed him bits of your intriguing mind.

And yet... he could not see his wish come true. He was used to being regarded as the awkward detective and didn’t mind others finding him weird or not friendly. But he was friendly, and all the members of Station n°4 knew it. Except you. Perhaps he was too shy around you.

One day however, you both were given a case on which you had to work together. Llewellyn tried to read you and you didn’t seem to mind but neither were you thrilled whilst he could swear he had never felt so nervous in his entire life.

Surprisingly though, he found out you were easy to talk to. You actually smiled more often now you were alone with him and working with him and seemed more open for conversation.

As you two made your way to the house where a murder had occurred, he found out you could understand his philosophical references. He couldn’t hide the joy of finally having someone who understood them!

‘Well, Detective Watts, you have been smiling for a few minutes now. May I inquire you about that?’ you said with your own little smile.

‘It’s just...’ he said as he turned around on himself, surprised you caught his smile. ‘It’s the first time someone understands my references’.

What an adorable smile and thought, you thought to yourself as you felt your stomach flutter. You were a very sociable person but ever since you’ve been working there, you couldn’t seem to be able to become Detective Watts’ friend. He was the only one with whom you were unsure of how to act. He impressed you quite a bit and you felt as though he could be deceived of your personality if he had gotten closer to you. You were glad you were assigned to that case with him. Now you could get a glimpse of his intriguing worlds and ideas.

‘Well, this is the most flattering thing I have heard in a while’ you said honestly, still smiling at him.

He got lost for a bit in your eyes and the way your eyes shined when you smiled before he was interrupted by the opening of a door. The owner of the house in which you had to investigate had finally answered the door.

As you inquired about the crime, you could see Llewellyn wander through the house before asking to the owner and thereby cutting him through one of his answers to you:

‘Would you mind telling us what this little door leads to?’ he asked as he snapped his fingers at a small door on the right of the entry of the parlor.

‘Oh, it’s my wine cellar’ said the owner.

Llewellyn raised his eyebrows.

And before you knew it, the owner had opened the door and had let you two discover his wine cellar as he went on to discuss with his maids upstairs.

It didn’t take you long to realize Llewellyn was a wine connoisseur. And a fine one at that, too.

‘What a surprise’ you said as you looked at him taste the wine. ‘I didn’t know you were a connoisseur’

He smiled at you as he offered you some wine.

‘You want me to become one, too?’ you joked before you accepted the glass.

He laughed a bit as he waited for your opinion.

‘Not bad’ you said after you had brought the glass to your lips. ‘I wouldn’t say it’s my favorite though’

He laughed again. It was the first time you heard him laugh genuinely and for some reason you wished you could hear it again and again and again.

‘That’s normal, Miss (y/l/n). His collection, I’m afraid, is not one of the best. But here...’ he said as he took a bottle out. ‘Here, it seems we have an interesting one’.

He opened it and poured the both of you some of it.

He raised his glass and you smiled. You both drank it and before you realized it, the bottle was empty and you both were laughing off philosophical debates and the owner’s wine collection.

Now to be fair, you two were not completely drunk. Just a bit. And that bit seemed to have eased your mutual shyness.

‘You know I’ve never thought you were so agreeable, Llewe- sorry Detective Watts’ you said as you looked away. Could it be you were becoming rude?

Llewellyn’s heart skipped a beat though upon hearing his name come from your mouth in such a friendly way.

‘No, please, I don’t mind. Please, call me Llewellyn’ he insisted.

‘Well, then... Llewellyn... I am very glad we seem to get along so well’, you said with a genuine smile.

‘And so am I’ he admitted. ‘I have been struggling to talk to you for some reason. I have never been able to connect with people, really. You know... man’s flaws...’ he said with a distant look in his eyes before turning back his attention to you. ‘But you... seemed so competent, so... intriguing... I didn’t know how to approach you...’ he admitted, a bit saddened.

You stared at him in shock before getting slightly closer to him.

‘Llewellyn... What a strange coincidence... I... I had been feeling and thinking the exact same things!’ you exclaimed a bit louder than you had intended to. ‘It’s easy to be likable with others but with you I thought... I think I thought I wasn’t enough... Like you wouldn’t find anything about me interesting...’

‘You thought you weren’t enough?’ he repeated as though he thought the alcohol was hitting him hard. ‘God you are... your mere smile is enough to make me feel happy for the whole week!’ he suddenly said. ‘And your face is so symmetrical...’ he added with a distant look.

He looked back at you as he realized what he had just said.

Both of your hearts were racing by now and you were suddenly leaning in closer until both of your minds registered the pressure on each others’ lips and labelled it as the kiss you both had been longing for.

You two quickly parted away though as you heard the owner of the house come back down to the wine cellar as he exclaimed:

‘You two are still in here?! And... what have you done to my wine?!’

You both looked at each other holding back your laughter.

‘Well, Mr, thank you very much for answering our questions. Hopefully you will not hear from us provided you are not the killer. Anything else, Miss (y/l/n)?’ he pretended.

You played along.

‘Actually, no. We were just about to go’.

And right before you closed the door behind you, you said to the owner:

‘Oh, and sir, you might want to consider getting a better collection’.

You could see his face becoming red but before he could fight back, Llewellyn and you were running far away from the house bursting out laughing.

#hope you like dissss #murdoch mysteries #murdoch mysteries imagine #fanfiction #cbc murdoch #william murdoch #julia ogden #george crabtree #emily grace #llewellyn x oc #llewellyn x reader #llewellyn watts #thomas brackenreid #henry higgins #canada #detective murdoch #police station #wine #james gillies

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henry-higgins-is-a-vibe · 3 years

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Being Jack Walkers Niece Would Include

not my gif

A/N: hehe got this request in June before shit went down between these two. God feels good to write again, more on the way:) was kinda hard to write considering Jacks personality’s like a slice of bread.

So, you would’ve moved to Toronto to go to school and your uncle Jack offered for you to stay with him.

Things would be fun, and you would help him at the butcher.

When you move to Toronto basically EVERYONE thinks you’re his daughter.

I mean you’re fine with that, Jack’s a very nice person and great uncle.

Things get very interesting when Jack starts seeing Llewellyn.

Jack would make up excuses as to why he was going out.

This would go on for bit, but you started to get suspicious.

So, you confronted your uncle, and he came clean that he was seeing Llewellyn

Obviously you were supportive!

You eventually met Watts and loved him.

I feel like one day Watts would just like take you to the station house for no reason, and like you meet everyone, which was fun.

But like the three of you ALWAYS play cards when you’re home and Llewellyn comes over.

It’s a tradition.

Being excited whenever Llewellyn comes over because well he's great and you love seeing how happy he makes you uncle.

Sometimes bringing lunch to Llewellyn from Jack from the butchers when Jack doesn’t have time himself.

Going to see Watts and vent after you and Jack have an argument and vice versa

Honestly just having a blast and being really happy for your uncle:)

#jack walker #llewellyn watts #jack walker x reader #jack walker x platonic!reader #mm #murdoch mysteries #cbc murdoch #hcs #headcanons #would include

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gothicwidowsworld · 4 years

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James Maguire #4

requested by @flowercrowns-goodvibes it’s been an age since I've done anything Derry Girls related so I hope its okay x

“What are you going to do?” Michelle asked her usually harsh tone gentle for once. Staring at the life changing piece of plastic Y/N shrugged, still unable to find her voice. “But seriously James of all people?!” Michelle chuckled from her spot on the bathroom counter. “Chelle don’t it's not funny.” Pulling a face Michelle rolled her eyes “Well it kinda is I mean literally everyone though James was gay.” Spilling out a giggle the y/h/c girl sighed resting her head on the bathroom door. “In all seriousness though if you go to England please don’t turn into my Aunt Kathy I can not be related to another English prick!” Scoffing the older girl pushed herself off the floor and washed her hands again. “I didn’t even know you were dating?” Michelle continued she really wanted to shut up but the awkward silence was starting to get to her. “We’re not, it was Jenny Joyce’s party at the start of summer.” A pink blush filled her cheeks as she thought back to that night. The creaking of the door caused the two girls to look up. “GET OUT MOTHERFUCKER!!” Michelle yelled at a poor innocent first year who looked like she was about to cry. “Chelle don’t yell at her.” Turning to face the younger girl Y/N smiled weakly “It’s alright Sweetheart go ahead we were just leaving.” Grabbing their bag Michelle laughed “God you're already turning into a Mam jesus all it took was a positive test...or three.” the dark haired girl trailed off.

The bell rang for lunch just as the two girls walked out the bathroom thank god they had managed to leave history 10 minutes early. “So when you going to tell him?” Michelle asked pushing past some of the younger years out of her way. Shrugging the y/h/c frowned “Like now?” gingerly stated as they walked into the small area of lockers the group usually ate at. Not even bothering to sit down Y/N smiled awkwardly at the group as Michelle chucked their bags on a chair before launching herself on Erin and Orla. “Um James can i talk to you?” she mumbled not able to look him in the eyes before walking off to the hallway filled with lockers. “What’s up?” James asked a red tint flushing his pale face. “Look James, I like you so I won't beat around the bush. I’m pregnant.” Y/N told him confidently, trying to keep her panic firmly inside. “Oh um congrats?” James replied uncomfortably fiddling with his blazer. “No I mean I’m pregnant and it's yours?!” Y/N cringed, brushing her hair out of her face. A look of realisation dawned on the English boy. “Oh.” was all he could get out. “Look I get it it's scary believe me I know. But if you don’t want anything to do with me I get it okay.” Y/N attempted to comfort the boy who looked like he could pass out.

Shaking his head James frowned “What? I wouldn’t leave you alone.” Looking at the girl James frowned again. “Look I know you don’t like me like that but we’re in it together okay. I won't be an invisible Dad.” Mulling over his words the girl smiled “That sounds good.” Leaning again the metal lockers Y/N continued “But I do like you. Did you not know that?” she asked, shocked that her feelings hadn’t been obvious. “James, it hurt when you went gaga over Katya. I wanted you to ask me to Prom but you had that Dr Who thing and it seemed important to you. Well more important then a stupid dance. But then you came with Erin and I got so jealous but I realised you were just being an amazing friend.” Walking closer to the boy Y/N blushed a small grin on her face. “In fact I’d say I love you even if you are English.” Looking deeply into his darker eyes Y/N tilted her head slightly something she always did when she was debating something. Leaning forward she placed her cherry lips on his feeling slightly awkward when he didn’t kiss back. Pulling away she freaked out “I’m so sorr” she managed to get out before his lips found her. He tasted like peppermint and breakfast tea and she wouldn’t change it for the world.

Part 2

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headoverhiddles · 6 years

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Expect some fics for Llewellyn and Matt tomorrow cause ya girl is watching No Country For Old Men and Sicario tonight 💦

#and I'm thirsty af #so #josh brolin #no country for old men #Llewellyn moss #mat graver #cable #smut #cable deadpool #josh brolin x reader #josh brolin shirtless #josh brolin thirst #josh brolin is daddy #fanfiction #josh brolin fanfiction

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sophierequests · 2 years

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okayokay im jumping on the bookworm!reader train

jesper x bookworm!reader hcs?

bookworm!reader dating headcanons

Navigation┃Main Masterlist┃Requests

Pairing: Jesper Fahey x gn!Reader

A/N: Aight, here we go again! Another bookworm!Reader for y'all because apparently that's my brand now, but I am not complaining. I hope you enjoy this!

Genre: Fluff

Warnings: None

Jesper has a pretty neutral attitude towards books. He was Wylan’s best friend, after all, so he was no stranger to being in a room filled to the brim with books. But you? You were just a little bit different.

After you first moved into the Slat, your entire room was already completely taken over by the mountains of literature you owned during the first weeks of living there.

“Have you read all of these?”

“Not yet.”

“Why do you have them then? Aren’t they just useless clutter until then?”

“I mean, you’re also just sitting around my room, doing nothing. Do I have to throw you out too?”

He had to admit that he liked your cheeky remarks to match his own. You were very well-read and used that to your utmost advantage. Book quotes and random facts were sprinkled into every conversation you had with him, and it enthralled him more than he ever thought it would.

So to no one’s surprise, he asked you out by gifting you one of the books you had taken an interest in recently. He acted as if he didn’t notice the way your conversations drifted towards this exact book when you passed a bookshop, but he so did. And when he knocked on your door, holding up his gift for you and grinning sheepishly.

Jesper, being the restless man he was, didn’t necessarily enjoy being alone with his thoughts for a longer duration of time, so it felt like a win-win situation when he got into a relationship with a person that enjoyed reading out loud. Whenever he felt bored or especially frenzied, you would pick up your current read, and start reading out loud to him.

“Love, do you mind reading to me? I still have to clean my guns.”

“Of course, darling.”

Reading to him is also a must after a mission that went awry or whenever he got sick.

“Y/N… I have a headache! Can you please read to me?”

“Jes, shouldn’t you be resting a bit? I’d think that me reading to you wouldn’t help your headache.”

“Pleaseeee?”

You liked to find similarities in your favourite characters that could be applied to your friend group. Sometimes Jesper would also read with you, especially when it came to your favourite books since he wanted to understand all of your references.

It was also favourable that Wylan knew his way around managing books, so whenever Jesper had no clue what to get you, he always went to his favourite merchling to ask for help.

One of your favourite moments was when you gifted him an old storybook that his mother used to read to him. It had taken you all your literary knowledge to find that specific book based on the sparse description Colm had given you. But when you finally found it, you could barely conceal your excitement. Jesper was absolutely floored by your efforts and didn’t dare to put it away for the first few days.

Jesper, however, did occasionally do some things that annoyed you.

“Jesper Llewellyn Fahey, if you even dare to put a dog ear in one of my books you will not live to see the next morning.”

“Don’t put that book on the bedside table stack! That’s the stack of books I have already read. Put it on the closet stack. These are the ones I haven’t finished yet.”

#jesper fahey imagine #jesper fahey x reader #jesper fahey #shadow and bone #grishaverse fanfic #grishaverse #shadow and bone x reader #grishaverse x reader #grishaverse headcanons #netflix shadow and bone #six of crows #shadow and bone imagine #shadow and bone headcanon

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love-strawberry · 2 years

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i don't know how to dance

summary : jesper fahey was a prepared for a lot of things. but being confronted by his sister about his behaviour wasn't one of them.

pairing : jesper fahey x sister!reader

warnings : language, angst, kinda mean!jesper but it's all typical brother behavior, talking about caving someone's head in.

author's note : okay, so this is not canon, like colm and y/n know that jesper left the university but they don't know that he's a dreg

tagged : @mrs-brekker15

masterlist

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colm fahey gave up on getting his children to talk to eachother a long while ago.

jesper stopped sending letters and suddenly, y/n stopped caring about it.

though it pained him to see his kids drift apart, he knew there was nothing he could do. not until he went to see him anyway.

which is exactly what he did. and he took y/n with him.

"he'll happy to see you."

"no, da," y/n said as she sat on a stool, "he'll be happy to see you. he won't be happy to see me."

it turned out, that he wasn't really happy to see any of them.

they were waiting for him at the workplace, the crow club. which y/n thought was a stupid name cause she was seeing an alarming lack of crows and the crows were the only reason she agreed to go with her father and meet her brother.

mr. fahey kept and eye out for his son while daughter kept herself busy with scoping out the cute people.

a pinch on the arm from her father drew y/n's eyes from the cute girl across the bar.

"he's here," mr. fahey said as he shifted in his seat, "he'll be so happy."

"i'm sure," y/n muttered as she looked up to where her father was looking and saw him.

he was there, looking as happy as ever, surrounded by a group y/n assumed to be his friends. and seeing the way he laughed with the red haired girl, she felt a painful tug at her heart.

he was happy here, away from home. away from their father. away from her. and he was doing fine. he found his people and somewhere along the way, y/n reckoned he found himself too.

"jesper!"

her father's shout brought y/n out of her trance and for the first time in years, her eyes met with her brother's.

she expected him to be puzzled, astonished and maybe, somewhere in her mind, she hoped happy to see them but seeing the way his eyebrows furrowed together and he excused himself from his friends, y/n knew his reaction wasn't gonna be she hoped.

he made his way to them, excusing himself, smiling at the patrons and y/n knew that this was where he belonged. in the heart of kerch.

"dad?" jesper questioned as he stopped in front of them, "what are you doing here?"

"we came to visit you, of course," mr. fahey said as if it was obvious, "you haven't been home in years and thought we'd finally come and see how you were doing."

jesper nodded nervously and then, his gaze shifted from his father to his sister.

"and you brought her?" he questioned

"well, he refused to leave me back home and forcefully brought me to see your ungrateful ass-" y/n stopped herself seeing her dad glare at her, "shut up, please."

"whatever," jesper threw his hands in air and looked at both of them expectantly, "did you really have to bring her, i mean, i could seriously do without her here."

"wow, feeling the love, llewellyn."

"fuck you. you know i hate my middle name."

"it's a family name," y/n rolled her eyes.

"whatever," he looked back at his father, "where are you staying?"

"we don't know," mr. fahey admitted, "we came directly here."

"you can stay at the slat," jesper said as he looked behind him where he knew his friends were watching, "i'm sure kaz won't mind."

----------

kaz most definitely did mind.

he first denied, then try to bargain but finally caved in and let them stay.

mr. fahey was already in his room, which left kaz, jesper and y/n.

"i don't want you distracted just cause your family is here, jesper," kaz said as he eyed y/n was who looking around, "no slacking off."

"can't he have like a day off or something," y/n said as she looked at kaz, "we're is seeing him after years, you know."

"no," kaz deadpanned, "he's needed at the crow club."

"jeez," y/n rolled her eyes. she wanted to spend some time with her brother and his edgy, goth boss was really an obstacle, "just a couple hours."

"jesper, no slacking off."

"did you want that cane to have a crow head to match your aesthetic or did you have that made so you could hit people with it?" y/n questioned at she looked at his cane, making kaz stick it out proudly, "it's beautiful."

"what the fuck, y/n?"

kaz and y/n both ignored jesper.

"bit of both, i guess," kaz replied, "though it also helps in caving someone's head in."

"what the fuck, kaz?"

kaz and y/n again ignored jesper.

"it's really pretty," y/n said and if she was distrubed by kaz's last statement, she didn't show it, "i love the details."

"well, they're quite complex, i got it specially made from a grisha, you know...

"...and i got it specifically to hit someone with it."

right after kaz finished his monologue about his cane which left y/n in awe, jesper grabbed his sister's luggage and pulled her towards her room

"jesper," kaz called, "take the evening and the next morning off. but no more after that."

"yes, boss," and with that jesper helped with the luggage and lead his sister to the room.

"so..." y/n started as she looked past the windows along the corridor, "nice place. really charming."

"it's home," jesper said as he opened the door and one by one, they filed in, "at least for me."

"well," y/n said, all of a sudden feeling awkward, "i'm glad you found it. home."

"me too," jesper said, "these people, they're my family here."

"they seem nice," she said as she placed her bag on the bed, "kaz is nice too. just a bit... dark."

"that's kaz for you," jesper chuckled, "he usually never warms up to someone as quickly as he did to you."

"well," she trailed off, "i am quite the charmer."

"duh, i am your brother, afterall."

and just like that, the siblings felt that nothing changed between them. even if for a moment.

----------

it's been almost two weeks since y/n and mr. fahey started living in slat and honestly, y/n liked it more than she liked her house.

she had gotten close with all of the crows, but especially kaz.

maybe they bonded over their love for his cane or the fact that y/n was one of the few people that talk backed to kaz, but they were certainly getting close.

y/n had more conversations with kaz than she did with her brother and she was getting really tired of it.

"like the view?"

y/n looked behind her to see kaz stepping on the roof, his cane clicking as he made his way towards where she sat.

"ketterdam is certainly a site," y/n spoke as she looked ahead, "just, doesn't feel like it's safe."

"it's not," kaz replied, "looks can be deceiving."

"truly."

y/n thought that he was gonna leave but after a moment of silence passed between them, she felt him sitting next to her, a good distance between them.

his cane was laying in between his legs and he was sitting with his legs open like a toddler and y/n felt a smile on her.

"what is it that you guys do," y/n said, "at the crow club."

"we're criminals, y/n."

"okay, woah," y/n said as she looked at him through wide eyes, "that was very straightforward."

"you didn't know?" kaz asked confused, "jesper didn't mention it in his letters?"

"he, uh-," y/n swallowed, "he stopped sending letters to me, wrote to da, of course. just not to me."

kaz didn't know what to say, but still he said the only thing that came to his mind.

"i'm sorry."

because somewhere in his mind, he felt responsible. maybe jesper joining the club made his relationship with his sister severe.

"don't be, he chose to be a dick," y/n laughed humourlessly, "didn't reply to my letters. and now he doesn't wanna hang out."

"he's an idiot," kaz said, clutching his cane a bit tighter.

"he is," y/n sighed, "it's just, i haven't seen him in years and when i finally do see him, it's for a minute or so. like i've talked to you more than i have to brother. it's just, unbelievable."

"i'll fire him if you want," kaz wouldn't but he just wanted that frown to leave y/n's face.

"please don't," y/n said as she looked towards the sea, "he likes it here."

kaz stayed silent because he knew she needed to say something. in fact, she needed to say a lot of things and he'll listen.

"when i was a kid, jesper always used to tell me that when he goes off abroad to study, he'll bring me with him," she said and kaz could see her eyes getting clouded, "and then he just left me there and didn't even write back, i waited for him. for a week, then two and suddenly it stopped hurting."

kaz looked at her and saw tear streaks down her cheeks.

"turns out it does hurt, i just got good at hiding it."

----------

"jes!"

eleven-year old jesper fahey laughed loudly as his sister jumped on his back.

"come on, my knight," nine-year old y/n yelled, raising her hand in the air, "to the castle."

"as your wish, majesty."

jesper started walking back home from the field near their farm, his sister laughing loudly everytime jesper stumbled jokingly or pretended that he was going to drop her.

"here we are, my siege," jesper spoke as he carefully placed her down, "at your humble castle."

"thank you, jes," his sister smiled at him, teeth and all, "could we play some music?"

"whatever you want," and with that, he turned the beaten radio on.

a traditional waltz song came on which made vith of the siblings smiled at eachother excitedly.

"wanna dance?" jesper questioned as he walked to where y/n was standing.

"i don't know how to dance," y/n said as she looked at her brother.

"it's okay," jesper smiled, "you can step on my toes, i won't mind."

"really?"

"really."

and with that, the siblings danced around the room. laughs bouncing off the wall, the two found them in a quite simple sanctuary of their own.

the song came to a close and then, just like all things, ended. jesper and y/n found themselves swaying to a beat of their own, y/n still standing on jesper's toes.

"jesper?"

"yeah?"

"when you go off to boarding school, will you write?" y/n asked as she looked down.

"of course, i will," jesper said as if the question had offended him, "i'll write a letter everyday. i'll tell you about me day and my friends and the school. i'll never forget you."

"i won't either."

but as the days went by and the two kids found themselves to be teens, their promises, just like everything in the past, faded away to nothing.

just leaving them with the hope that someday, in the dawn of a new day, they'll dance again.

----------

"hey."

jesper looked up and saw his sister leaning on the door frame, looking exhausted.

"you good?" jesper asked, "you look tired."

"yeah, just didn't get much sleep," y/n laughed lightly, "my sleep schedule is a mess."

"same."

y/n smiled at him before looking at what he what he had in front of him. "whose is it?"

"don't know, just found it in the store room," jesper said as he fidgeted with the buttons on the beaten down radio, "i think it works."

"i haven't seen a radio since you went away," y/n spoke, "the last i did, it was when i was listening to a waltz song, dancing with you the day before you were off to ketterdam."

"i remember," jesper reminisced, "you still stood up on my toes."

y/n laughed as she looked at her brother and still saw the one who used to help her collect apples from the orchard down their farm. who taught her how to do everything when their da was working. the one was always there for her.

"i don't why i stopped writing letters to you," jesper spoke suddenly, "i am a criminal, y/n. and i didn't want you associated with me, to the dregs. they would've dragged you down and it was not safe, still isn't."

"that's a shitty explanation," y/n deadpanned, "you can't just say that you didn't want me associated with you but you associated yourself with da. no, i won't have it."

"look, i am sorry, okay," jesper said frustrated, "i didn't want you going down the same path as me and it was a stupid decision and i am sorry for that. i truly am."

"it's okay," y/n said before speaking again, "actually, no. it's not."

she looked at him for a moment and when he respond, she turned to leave and that's when she heard it.

the same traditional waltz music, coming out of the radio.

she turned around and saw jesper looking at her hopefully, extending his hand.

"wanna dance?" he questioned softly, as if afraid of the answer and truth be told, he was.

"not really, no."

"please?" y/n agreed reluctant but accepted his hand.

"you do know how waltzing works right?" jesper asked when he noticed her stiff posture.

"i don't know how to dance," y/n said and she hated how her voice cracked.

"it's okay," jesper smiled a tearful smile, his eyes watering, "you can step on my toes, i won't mind."

"really?"

"really."

and with those words uttered, the two siblings danced in the room, feeling like they were kids again. feeling like nothing had changed afterall, they just grew older.

y/n was, after a long time, happy with herself and her relationship with her brother. all wasn't forgiven, but she had a feeling it'll all work out.

it always does, in the end.

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#jesper fahey #jesper fahey x sister!reader #jesper fahey platonic reader #jesper fahey imagines #kaz brekker #kaz brekker x reader #kaz brekker imagines #kaz brekker fluff #six of crows x you #six of crows x reader #six of crows imagines #six of crows #grishaverse imagines #grishaverse #shadow and bone x reader #shadow and bone

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qyllenhaal · 3 years

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Good Wives Club [1]

Lee Bodecker x Reader. 3rd POV. Word Count: 6.4k.

Spin-off to American Pie

|| Chapter 2

Summary: It's been more than a year since she's escaped the ghost of her past but life is never fair to a girl like her. Lee doesn't care that she has a husband, a nice house, and sugary fake friends, he wants what's rightfully his.

Warnings (series): Cheating, smut, violence, housewife kink, period-typical misogyny, age gap (about a ten year difference), manipulation, dark themes all around.

"Come on Lou -- we have to leave in ten minutes if we want to be on time!" She frowns at the pearl earring that fell out of her hand and onto the floor. They belonged to her husband's mother who gave them to Y/n as a gift on the morning of their wedding. She stops it from rolling away with the toe box of her kitten heels. She never liked wearing heels nor was a big fan of jewelry, but that is only because she was not used to wearing such things.

She can hear her husband down the hall groaning at her nagging voice. He lobbied a slew of complaints her way, something she found deeply annoying but had grown accustomed to.

"You know," he begins as his footsteps get louder as he walks into their bedroom, "I don't like these kinds of events. Why did you accept the invitation for the two of us and not just you?"

"What was I going to do? Show up without my husband?"

He has no counter for her rebuttal. Instead he just groans again like she is so used to him doing.

"We aren't staying for long Y/n," he states curtly before leaving the room again.

Sometimes Y/n wants to just ring his neck. It is inadvertently his fault why they are attending the dinner event at the police union hall tonight. He always complains, yet his penchant for making decisions without any input from his wife ends up screwing him over. Y/n was fine with living in their old neighborhood, but he just had to move to Brewer Heights. He never talked fondly about anyone who lived here, yet he decided they were going to move from Meade to live in a bigger house.

Y/n is not stupid and she knows why her husband wanted to "upgrade." Their new home has significantly more rooms than their last one, three bedrooms in total and a basement that he is planning to fix up. It is the perfect home for anyone who is considering having children in the very near future.

Llewellyn is a good man. He is nice to be around most of the time, very polite in public, and he takes care of everything. All of Y/n's needs are taken care of and she doesn't have to worry about working. But, she doesn't love him. She enjoys his company at best, but she doesn't love him.

It would not be wise to marry for love because no one would fall in love with anyone who decided to put a stain on themselves at such an early age. The constant reminder of who she was and what her position was in this life was always glaring at her. It didn't matter if she had aspirations for herself, they went out the window when she accepted to work at a place like Tecumseh. She felt whenever interacting with a patron at Tecumseh, whether they said it out loud or were just thinking it.

The options were already few and far between with most of the boys her age already married or getting sent off to war.

Y/n never wanted to prioritize marriage while she was in the tail end of her ten years, or men at all; there were no other options for her. She watched her co-worker Sandy wither away and disappear. There was another co-worker of hers that was nearing her 40s and letting the old men take her out back too. Her judgment of Sandy and the other barmaid was projection due to misplaced anger. At least Sandy had a husband, and the other one, Eileen, had a long-term boyfriend that didn't seem to mind what she did during work. Y/n had no man; just Sandy's brother who was always on her ass. Sandy's brother who would slip her a twenty as she rode him in the back of his cruiser as if she was.

All of the men she entertained were married. She always believed they enjoyed taking a bit of her youth from her, seeming to revel in the fact that they were messing with someone much younger than their wives. The worst offender was the Sheriff who always poked at her age in public but was drawn to her because of it. She was 19 when he first took her in the back of his patrol cruiser and they didn't stop until a few months before she met Llewellyn and left Tecumseh.

Lewellyn is just one year older than Y/n, comes from a pretty well-to-do family, and he somehow dodged the draft. He worked at his family's pharmacy at the time and he instantly took a liking to her when she came in for cough drops. His interest in her surprised Y/n, believing she was damaged goods despite being 21 years old. Drunk patrons would call her a whore if she ignored their advances, and when she'd suggest to the men she was sleeping with that they should buy her something nice they'd tell her to stay in her place.

"Let me take you out some time."

Llewellyn's demeanor and way of speaking to her was almost jarring as it had been a while since she's been treated delicately. He must have not been aware of the place she works at. She always believes the smell of the bar hangs around her; just a few seconds around her and anyone can tell what she's about.

But she said yes. There was nothing remarkable about him that made her say yes besides him being her only chance of making a decent life for herself. She said yes to him asking her out, and then said yes when he asked her to marry him several months later.

She was lucky to marry into a family that wasn't fractured, has a good reputation in town, and has money. The family pharmacy was the first built in Meade and had been in the family for a few decades. Lou ran the business side of things as he had no schooling in medicine like his father.

He has changed a lot since the marriage. Him and Y/n were living in Meade, just five minutes away from the pharmacy, but Lou decided they needed to move somewhere nicer. He suggested Brewer Heights to Y/n as if it was a thought he had in passing. It didn't make sense to move out there and be farther from his work. There were some nice houses closer than Brew Heights, but Lou seemed to have already been looking at a specific home without Y/n's knowledge.

Y/n knew exactly what kind of people lived in Brewer Heights. She was from some of the husbands that would come to the bar; only a few of them stepped into Tecumseh, but they didn't keep their opinions about their town, and wives, to themselves. She also knew that Sheriff Bodecker lived in Brewer Heights in a really, really nice house. He drove past his house once with Y/n in the back seat of his cruiser.

"If you're a good girl, you can live in a house like that someday."

He'd tease her, dangle a stable life in front of her then teenage face. They weren't supposed to be anywhere near his house, let alone 5 miles away from Tecumseh's back parking lot. He enjoyed the thrill of getting caught knowing that he had an answer for her being with him; just a whore he picked up and had to take to the station.

Sitting in the back of his cruiser while he drove past his house made Y/n feel like a culprit. She always felt like she was a prisoner with him; he rarely referred to her by her first name and she wasn't allowed to address him out of his formal title. Only when he was drunk did she let him get away with calling him Lee. He said he was too in love with hearing "Sheriff" and "sir" come out of her mouth. But when he was angry with her he said that only "respectable women" can address him as Lee or even his last name.

Y/n does not feel completely comfortable in Brewer Heights. Her feelings have improved a little bit since the move, but the first two months were downright awful. She felt out of place at the shops, even feeling like every gaze was on her. Lou let her buy a few new dresses to make her feel better. The soft gingham and floral dresses were garish, but the couple both believed it would help Y/n fit in.

In Meade she would hang around the pharmacy and help Lou and his father keep it clean, but in Brewer Heights she has nothing to do. Everything has been moved out of the boxes and placed where it belongs; there is no more rearranging Y/n can do. She tried to pick-up a hobby to occupy her time. Her mother-in-law had many recipes written on tattered paper bound in old wire she was happy to give away. Y/n was not good at cooking but she feels the pressure from both Lou and his mother for her to improve.

The only example of a model wife Y/n had was her mother-in-law. Her own mother was never married and Y/n often had to go stay with her grandmother because her mother couldn't keep out of trouble. Her former co-worker, Sandy, was married but that marriage could barely be considered that. What a "good" marriage looks like is hard for Y/n to conceive.

For much of their time together Y/n wondered what type of wife Lee's wife was. He complained that they didn't fuck often and that she attempted to cut him off from alcohol. He spoke about her as if she was the devil herself, but she kept him fed and provided him with the candy he always kept in his pocket. Y/n learned that it was rare that the wife was as awful as the complaining husband made her out to be. If she was an awful person Lee would have not married her. He was probably just as handsome in his twenty as he was when they were messing around.

He spoke so negatively about her, yet Y/n's body would turn cold whenever he talked about her. She was jealous of his wife because she was worthy of being treated with respect. She didn't get jerked around by Lee. She got the title while Y/n had to clean up his mess whenever he got too drunk at Tecumseh. When he was in a state of emotional panic he came to Y/n, not his wife. Yet she was in the big house he liked to taunt Y/n with.

Y/n wonders if Lee's wife is one of the "Brewer Heights bitch" he would occasionally complain about. Y/n got a taste of how the women around the neighborhood operated very early on. A few wives in the neighborhood would stop by with a dish or dessert as a welcoming gift. Their eyes would wander away from Y/n's and into the house as if they were looking for something to take back to their friend circle to talk about. Some would be invasive in their questioning with Y/n only being able to respond with an awkward laugh and cop-out for an answer. Their "hospitality" dried up when Y/n didn't understand that the polite thing to do is deliver a dish in similar fashion as a "thank you." She came off as young and childish to them; a girl who grew up with no manners. They probably talked about her to their other married friends since gossiping was the "only talent" they had according to Lee.

While she tried to steer clear of a judging housewife, she made desperate attempts to avoid Lee. She remembers that his shifts often kept him out until late and he bragged about barely having to patrol Brewer Heights because of how safe it was. Her trips to the grocery store occurred in the earlier hours of the morning when Lee was bound to be at the station. She was successful in her attempts of keeping herself under the radar.

It was a solid two months in Brewer Heights until she was approached in the store by a woman. Her orange dress was complimented by a woman with adoring eyes. Y/n thought it was an okay dress but the persistence of the woman made her feel a little confident. The face was unfamiliar, but when she introduced herself as Florence, alarm bells went off in her head.

For years she heard about Florence.

Florence this...

Florence that...

Y/n has heard so much about her yet nothing compared to standing in front of her in the grocery store. She almost dropped the can of corn she held in her hand.

Y/n knew Lee was married from the jump, how could she ignore that gold band on his ring finger? She would fidget during the rare nights he slept at her place. The simultaneous feelings of wanting to throw it out the window and putting it on her own finger made her head spin. Initially she felt sick knowing she was willingly sleeping with a married man, but since he did not care, she learned not to care too.

At the moment it would have been incredibly easy to brush Florence off; just say thank you and go about her day. But something awful inside of her told her to get to know the lady. It would be counterproductive for Y/n to do so if she wants to avoid seeing Lee at all cost. However sheer curiosity got the best of her (and her subconscious desire to be accepted).

As she explained where she got her dress, Y/n saw flashes of Lee between her legs. It became a common occurrence whenever she saw Florence around town to conjure thoughts of the woman's husband pleasuring her. Brewer Heights is not as big as she thought it was because their run-ins with each other became more frequent. It's funny seeing as she never seen her before until that day in the grocery store.

"Have you met Susie? She'd love you!"

Y/n thought Florence would be able to sus her out. Surely her behavior gives off "outsider" or she has heard the wives in her neighborhood gossip about her. Lucky for her she stopped wearing that cheap perfume a year ago or else Florence would probably recognize the smell from Lee's clothes. Y/n wondered if Florence was stupid or if she just didn't care.

Susie was nearly the same as Florence. The two look nothing alike, but they acted like clones of each other. They enjoy the same things, cook the same recipes, dress similarly, and do many things together. As welcoming as they were, Y/n believed that their kindness was fake. She could not comprehend how they were the only wives welcoming her.

Looking Florence in the face after fucking her husband for years was hard, but Y/n was beginning to assimilate to their sugary fakeness. She began to accept lunch invites and even went to the salon with them once. She never has much to say when she's with them, just always listening to them talk.

Tonight's event is the first time Florence invited Y/n to something that would most certainly involve Lee. She wanted to introduce Y/n and Llewellyn to her husband. "Maybe he and Lee can be friends. He isn't too fond of Susie's husband." Lee does not want friends, he wants subordinates.

"We're not staying long Y/n, I mean it."

"I don't want to stay long either," she admits to her husband but omits the reason why, "an hour at most, okay? I don't want Florence to think we're rude."

"Since when do you care?"

"Since you decided that we should move to Brewer Heights."

"Don't give me attitude."

Y/n folded her arms and pouted like she was a little girl. She doesn't want to go just as much as Lou, but Florence left her no choice with her persistent nature. Y/n began to understand some of the things Lee said about her and how true it was.

The parking lot of the union hall was packed. Anxiety crept up Y/n's chest and nearly choked her. If she told Lou she changed her mind he would chew her out for making him drive the distance. He opens the passenger door for her prompting her to get out. She straightens out her dress the second she is out of the car and then takes her husband's hand. She tries to breathe deeply without him noticing. She wonders how her husband can never sense when she's in a moment of worry and panic. Lou doesn't even budge when she squeezes his hand tightly.

Y/n has never been invited to a big event before. Lou's family is sizable, but all can fit into his parent's house. And even at its peak when Tecumseh was crawling with people that was different because Y/n was a worker, not a patron. A formal invite to a dinner event has never been extended to her and she isn't sure how she should act. No one notices them come in nor do they seem to care, all too busy wrapped up in their own conversations and hearing themselves talk.

"Where is your friend?" Lou asks curtly. She can hear it in his voice that he is uncomfortable with the size of the crowd too.

"Um, I don't know," Y/n's voice broke as she spoke. Her mouth is dry from her anxiousness and as much as needs water, she wishes she could take a shot of old tequila.

Her eyes scan over the crowd and she recognizes a few faces, but none of them particularly friendly. Florence is nowhere to be found, but it's hard not to spot Susie and her blonde hair. Y/n walks in her direction with Llewellyn right behind, their hands still holding onto each other's tightly.

Susie turns her head when she feels them approaching. "Oh Y/n, you made it!" That wide smile is plastered on her face as if Y/n and her husband were the couple she's been looking forward to seeing all night. Such a sweet smile yet she can say some of the most vile things anyone has said in a five mile radius.

"I wouldn't miss it for the world," Y/n says lying through her teeth, "this my husband Llewellyn."

"Nice to meet you Llewellyn! I'm Susie and my husband Dan is...well he's somewhere!"

"You can call me Lou — nice to meet you too."

"Great! Well Y/n and Lou your seats are over at table 9," Susie leans in real close so no one else can hear their conversation, "best table in the house. I put you at the table with Florence and I."

It was to be expected, but Y/n's stomach dropped nonetheless. Lee was never fond of these sorts of events and would use the "late shift" excuse all the time even when he was with Y/n in the back of Tecumseh. However, Y/n knows he will show up at some point; it's a matter of when and not if.

"You two can go take your seats now! I don't know where Flo is, but dinner will be served at 7:30 on the dot!"

Susie politely demises Y/n to turn back to the guests she was talking to before. She glances at Lou to see his reaction but his face is just stoic. They took their seats at the table they were assigned to, a table that was directly in the middle of the room. Just a simple glance around the room and Y/n could tell that Florence and Susie made sure their table was the nicest in the room; the centerpiece was nicer and the tablecloth looked of better quality. Florence most definitely used her husband's status to accrue

"Who is Susie?"

"She's Florence's friend. I met her through Florence."

"She's nice but a little overbearing — do you like them?"

It was an unexpecting question especially when Lou doesn't seem to concern himself with the little life Y/n has outside of the house.

"Like you said, they're nice but a little overbearing, but they're the only people who were nice to me."

"Hmm, don't seem like your type of friends," he dismissed. Y/n frowned despite him being honest. The last time she has had friends was high school so she never brought any around her husband. Still, he was right when she said someone like Susie wouldn't necessarily be the first person she'd try to befriend.

"They're nice people Lou."

"What about Florence's husband? Ain't he the sheriff? I've heard some not so nice things about him down at the pharmacy. Heard that he can get away with anything."

"I-I don't know...never met him," Y/n turns away from her husband because she can't lie straight to his face. Hearing him talk about Lee makes her nervous even if it sounds like he wants nothing to do with him.

Y/n was saved from any further discussion of that man when Susie and her husband Dan joined them at the table. It was almost dinner time which meant Y/n and Lou could eat and then leave 30 minutes after doing so. She could see her husband becoming increasingly annoyed from waiting. Susie's husband Dan was trying so hard to strike up a conversation with Lou, but the two were so different it was almost painful to watch. Dan was a city boy through and through while Lou, despite his schooling, was not.

Susie talked to her about the table placements as if they were the most precious thing to her. "The Russian Sage is from my garden," she beamed.

"They're nice Susie," Y/n responds meekly. She feels inundated to keep up with her new friend although she doesn't have much to say.

The table turns their attention to Florence who is taking her spot next to Y/n.

"You usually sit next to me, Florence," Susie says lightly but her face reads as hurt.

"Well it's Y/n's first time here. I just want to be kind," Florence says with a smile. The interaction between the two feels fake and Y/n doesn't want to be at the center of it.

"Where's Lee, Florence? Not workin' too hard I hope."

"Well you know Lee, he always works long hours when an election year is coming up."

"Lee will probably be the county sheriff until the day he retires. No one does the job like him."

Hearing people talk about Lee on such an admirable way is comical. He will let half of the county's troubles slide past him if it will benefit him in some way. Brewer Heights is such a bubble that hardly anyone acknowledges the crime outside of the city limits. And from the way Lee would dump his work stories onto Y/n, Florence doesn't know a thing about what he really does.

"Hopefully you can tell him that when he gets here. He needs to start showing up on time for these events because pretty soon we're going to have to start fundraising for his campaign."

"Oh the last banquet for fundraising we had was so wonderful," Susie fawned before turning her attention to Y/n, "I wish you were around to see it Y/n. It was the most successful fundraising night the county has ever seen!"

Y/n smiles and lets them keep talking while her tight-lipped husband sits next to her. 7:30 rolls around and it's finally time for dinner. A few glances towards her husband and Y/n saw Lou eating as if he has never ate before. She frowned remembering the lunch she made for him today and how he barely seemed to eat it. She's not that good of a cook like Florence or Susie might be, but she tries her best.

"So, do you two have any kids?" Dan asks with food still in his mouth. Y/n cringes at the question and feels even worse when she feels all of their stares on her.

"No," Lou answers for her, giving her some relief, "we haven't been trying for one yet. Maybe next year after we really settle into our home."

"Well don't feel too bad Y/n, Lee and I still don't have a house full of kids yet," she laughs as if she's joking but there is a tinge of sadness coloring her voice. Y/n is not sure if it's would have been worse if Lee had a child or if she would have known that his wife really wanted one while he was too busy fucking other girls.

"Dan and I have two little boys. I really wanted a girl, but you know, it's beyond our control!"

The topic of children makes Y/n nervous. She's not quite ready to have any and her and Lou have barely talked about having kids. His plan of waiting until next year to start trying was news to her and it's embarrassing that she has to hear that for the first time in front of her new friends.

An older woman in a white dress and a gaudy necklace comes up behind Florence and lays a hand on her shoulder.

"Lee's up front looking for you Flo."

The rest of the table seemed to light up while a shiver went down Y/n's spine.

"Thank you Dolores! I'll go and get him."

Florence excuses herself from the table and disappears from their view. Y/n is panicking and trying to find her way out of a meeting with Lee.

"I'm not feeling too good Lou. Can we go home?" She whispers into her husband's ear. He doesn't look too pleased, but he was the one to say he didn't want to stay long. And it's not like he's getting on with Susie's husband.

"Okay," he says plainly and Y/n feels a huge weight lifting off of her slowly.

The two stand up much to the confusion of Susie and Dan.

"Where are you two going? Don't you want to wait to meet the sheriff."

"I'm not...I'm not feeling too well and Llewellyn's had a long day. But it was lovely to meet you Dan, and Susie you are always too kind." She dismisses them rather quickly and lets Lou lead her towards the front entrance.

"Y/n! Llewellyn! Where are you two going!? I want you to come meet my husband."

Y/n should know better now that luck is never on her side. She could pretend not to hear her, but that woman is louder than everyone conversing at their dinner tables. Her and Lou could make a dash for it, but he stupidly turns around thus leaving her no choice but to do the same.

He still commands the entire room to take note of his presence. His heavy footsteps seem to be a little bit heavier and Y/n can't help but notice how fuller he looks once she finally drags her eyes over his frame. One thing that hasn't changed is that smirk he holds on his face. She can't look into his eyes, shaming coloring her entire face even though they are the only two in the entire room who know how volatile this moment is.

"Lee, this is the girl I was telling you about, Y/n," Florence points to her as under the belief that Lee doesn't know who she is, "and this is her husband Llewellyn."

"Nice to meet you," he reached out to shake Lou's hand which her husband firmly took. His voice sent a shiver down her spine; still direct and strong as it was years ago. He looks over to Y/n, his smile only getting bigger when he sees how sheepish she looks, "nice to meet you too Y/n. Heard a lot about you from Flo."

"You know how I get excited about making a new friend," Florence gushes.

"Well, we were just heading home-"

"Oh no, Lee just got here! Can you stay for a little while?"

Florence was a pro at flashing those sad eyes and using a tone of voice that can make anyone feel bad for her. Y/n's guilt is consuming her and makes it hard for her to find an excuse for why they can't stay. Lou says nothing which leaves her in a bad spot. He was so against coming yet he does nothing to help them leave without any problems.

"I guess we can stay...if that's alright with you Lou."

"I don't mind, but I have an early shift tomorrow morning."

"At least stay for dessert. We ordered pies from O'Briens' which is the best bakery in the county!"

"What kind?" Lee asks with curiosity, taking his gaze off of Y/n for the first time tonight.

"I made sure they ordered your favorite flavor, cherry."

"Your father owns that pharmacy in Meade? I've been having problems with my back and I wondered if you could help."

Dolores was all over Y/n's husband. Her white hairs were thin curls and she wore a baby blue dress. She kept asking him questions as if he was a doctor or the one holding a college degree like his father. Lou indulged her although he looked to Y/n to save him from Dolores.

She was in a situation of her own with Susie and Florence on either side of her. It's normal for her to not have much to say to them, but her complete silence is abnormal yet they carry-on talking. Lee is three seats away from her, seated right next to her husband. Not knowing what Lee may say, or do, is killing her inside. She knows that he likes to save his "gotcha" for the right moment.

Dolores finally runs out of questions to ask Lou, but now he's talking to Lee. She can't hear what they're saying over Florence and Susie talking about Mrs. Wentworth walking around without her wedding ring. Her heart beats faster when she sees Lou crack a smile at what she presumes is one of Lee's jokes. He's so charismatic and smooth-tongued that even Lou falls for it.

Y/n can taste bile on her tongue and she pushes her chair back and quickly excuses herself to Florence and Susie. Her feet move faster than what her brain can process. She finds an empty hallway that's slightly lit from the bright lights spilling out of the main dining hall. Y/n didn't realize that she was breathing as hard as she was until she stopped and caught up with herself. Out of all the times she could have ran into Lee, why tonight? Why did it have to happen with her husband by her side?

The door she came out of opened up and she heard those heavy boots audibly meeting the floor with each step. The sound only gets louder as Lee approaches her before he stops in front of her. He looks her up and down, taking her in like he was able to see what she looked like under her clothes. It's been years and a part of her hoped he forgot about her or that he had a new, shiny toy to play with.

"Where are your manners? Don't you know it's rude to run off on someone you just met?"

Y/n stays silent, hoping she's just imagining things, but the strong smell of his cologne and his stare make him all too real. He still wears the same cologne after all these years.

"Aww don't ignore me baby...you know it hurts my feelings whenever you do that." His hand comes up and he strokes her cheek with the back of his hand. There is no protest from Y/n; she's still like a statue. His hand feels so warm against her cheek and she heats up with the memories of the two of them together. He'd touch her face while he fucked her, his weight sinking her further into the backseat of his police cruiser.

"I told you you'd never be able to escape me," he whispers.

Lee has her cornered in the empty hallway, his free hand placing itself against the wall as a way to trap her in. He presses his body against hers so her back is against the wall. It brings back the flood of memories she always replays when Florence goes on and on about her doting husband. The same "doting" husband that complained about her not wanting to have sex with him when he was riled up. The same wife that didn't let him take his pent up frustration out on her body the same way Y/n did; the wife he wouldn't dare call his "nasty fuckmeat."

But while Y/n can't get her mind off of their past together, Lee can't help but obsess over how she looks now. Y/n looks much more livelier to him, an almost successful attempt of leaving everything from her past behind. She can't escape everything but he appreciates her attempt at trying. It's a little disjointing to see her so cleaned up and dressed like one of his wife's friends, but he likes it. Something about her in this floral print dress gets him going. If he had known that her in a pretty dress got him harder than those short shorts she used to wear then he would've stolen one of Florence's vomit-inducing dresses for her to wear.

He was shocked to hear the news about her quitting Tecumseh. They had a replacement for her within weeks, but it just wasn't the same. Y/n made his drinks the way he liked it and dropped to her knees in seconds for him. There were not many options for a girl like her but he wasn't surprised when she heard she had gotten married just a few months after quitting. The only way out of that shithole was finding a man to rescue you instead of exploiting you. Lee was a little jealous though seeing as his favorite girl would no longer be his or under his control. She was lost, especially when there seemed to be no sign of her crawling back to Lee and Tecumseh because her man didn't want her anymore.

But when Florence came home talking about a "nice young lady" she met at the store and insisted they invite "Y/n and her husband Llewellyn" over for dinner as a way to welcome them to the neighborhood, Lee knew luck was on his side. Whether he has to put effort into it or not, Lee always gets his way.

He hadn't seen her until tonight but Lee had updates on her when Florence and the neighbor's wife decided that Y/n was fine enough to join their usual lunch gatherings. Lee knew that the two women were only interested in molding her into another humdrum wife like them. If they had knew Y/n's previous "occupation", they'd call her a whore and reject her. Lee didn't expect Y/n to take their bait because of her previous occupation. Her in a floral dress for the first time instead of those ratty shorts she donned was a shock to the system. She looks great like this but when he looks at her all he sees is his little Y/n who is rough around the edges yet so obedient for him.

"There hasn't been anyone else honey," he whispers into her ear. His other hand came up her side and rested on her hip. Every night they spent together in his cruiser she expressed her worries over being another whore to him. Lee never reassured all those years ago, so it knocks her off her feet to hear those words from him tonight. He smirks as he sees the resistance leaving her face, "I know how you worry, but you've always been my number one girl."

She can't melt into his embrace like she could years ago. A lump forms in her throat and she can barely get the words out, "Lee stop."

It was easier to ignore the guilt she felt when it was Lee who was the only one married. Now they are both wearing wedding bands and will be going home with someone else tonight.

"Why are you so tense? I need you to relax for me, cherry. Just like you use to do for me — relax."

"My husband-"

"Don't mention him."

It seems as if his 'no mentioning the spouse' policy extends to Llewellyn too. If her husband were to catch them right now Y/n would be devastated. She can't lose all she has just because her old fling wants a piece of her again. And giving into him would regress all of her progress.

"I'm just trying to say hello," he whispers into her ear, his warm breath tickling her skin. "We can't have a little reunion?"

That mocking voice used to work magic over her. When she would try to say no to his advances, he'd sweet talk her and make fun of her for saying no when she really wants him.

"That pie was good but not as sweet as I remember you tastin'. You still sayin' sweet for me cherry?"

"Lee please stop," she begs weakly. Tears of frustration fell down her cheek without her permission. Lee takes a step back, removing his hand from her hip and widening the space between them.

"Go back to your husband."

Y/n scurries off, wiping her face as she walks down the hallway and back into the dining hall. She doesn't know if Lee is right behind nor does she care to look. She just wants to find Lou and go home.

She says a polite yet rushed goodbye to Florence and Susie. She takes Lou's hand and practically drags him out of the union hall.

"What is wrong with you!?"

She's usually sensitive to his raised voice, but she's too spooked to care. Y/n just wants to get home and to a place that feels more familiar to her new life instead of the last one. Lou noticed her mood and kept quiet; he's sometimes clueless about her moods but it's no denying right now that something is off with her. But he doesn't comfort her, he just leaves her alone for the rest of the night.

Even being next to her husband in bed feels like she is at the greatest distance with him and herself. Y/n cannot stop seeing that look on Lee's face whenever she closes her eyes. His face has not haunted her in a while, but she's certain now that she's stuck in a nightmare.

#lee bodecker #lee bodecker x reader #lee bodecker x oc #lee bodecker fic #lee bodecker x y/n #lee bodecker x you #lee bodecker smut #lee bodecker x ofc #the devil all the time #fic #dark fic

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stray-kaz · 1 year

Text

Tender : a Jesper Fahey x f!reader oneshot

Summary: You return from a job gone awry and Jesper turns his restless energy to a better cause: cleaning you up and helping you to feel human again.

Warnings: FLUFF. Non sexual nudity. Jesper Llewellyn Fahey is a big softie.

When you stumbled in through the door, blood pouring out of your head and drenching your left thigh, clinging to Kaz whose face was bone white, Jesper’s whole body felt cold and it felt as if Sisyphus’ boulder was lodged against his esophagus. Trying to get to you felt like wading through treacle, while his heart thundered in his ears.

He took you from Kaz easily, your limping body all but collapsing into his arms. Your head hung back, eyes trying to blink through the blood to see his face. You reached up to touch his cheek, your fingers faltering against his warm skin.

“Jes” you said hoarsely. “They hurt me, real bad. I was shot. I was...I was -”

Your words drifted away as your knees buckled and Jesper wrested you into a stronger hold, head on a swivel as he looked frantically for Nina and Inej. They were already headed in his direction, a healer’s kit gripped tightly in Inej’s hands. She gave Kaz a quick onceover before turning to focus on you, the bullet wound drawing most of her attention.

“Upstairs, Jesper” she murmured, eyeing him. “Quickly.”

He spun on his heels and strode for the staircase, your head rolling unsteadily against his shoulder.

The bullet dug out of your thigh lay bloodied and misshapen in a metal bowl. It had a pull on Jesper like drinking, like cards, and his gaze was continually drawn back to it. The wound was stitched and dressed, and an army of black stitches marched across your hairline to disappear into sticky strands.

“She should be cleaned properly, as soon as she’s awake” Nina said quietly, patting Jesper on the shoulder. “There’s plenty of bandages if the one on her thigh gets wet.”

He nodded and she drifted out the door after Inej, both of them casting anxious glances back at him, at you. You would live, but you had also never been wounded so severely before. You getting shot had shaken all of them, even Kaz, who still hadn’t spoken a word since he helped you home.

Jesper settled back on a narrow chair next to the bed, unnaturally still. He would stand watch all hours if he needed to.

You stirred, winced, and opened your eyes to see Jesper slumped in a chair, cheek propped on his fist, eyes half shut. You tried to speak, to say his name, but nothing came out, so you swallowed thickly and tried again.

“Jesper?”

His brown whiskey eyes flashed open to stare at you, and when his sleep addled brain recognised you were awake, he shot off the chair and flung himself to his knees beside you. He lifted a hand to tentatively stroke your face, carefully avoiding your stitches.

“Hey, love” he murmured. “Feel ready for a bath?”

Your gaze wandered down your body, clad in your bloodied shirt and underwear.

“Can’t have a bath in my clothes” you observed calmly.

Jesper allowed himself a small grin, his eyes warming to you.

“I can help with that” he said.

You nodded and struggled up onto your elbows, but Jesper just tutted at you and lifted you off the bed, muscles pulling beneath his shirt to support your weight. He steadied you on the edge of the tub while he ran the water, filling it until a faint mist of steam rose off the surface.

Jesper straightened and looked down at you. Without waiting, you began to slip free the buttons holding your shirt up to your throat, slowly revealing inch after inch of Jesper’s favourite view. You avoided his eyes a little, face heating, as you shucked the fabric onto the floor and removed your brassiere, slowly standing so you could slip your underwear off. With one bad leg, you lost your balance and yelped, tensing your body for the impact against rough tile, but it never happened. Instead, you were caught up against warmth, familiar arms around you, and you relaxed into Jesper’s chest, heedless of the fact you were naked and he was fully clothed.

“Come on now, love, I know you already fell for me. Now you’re just exaggerating” he teased, long fingers stroking your sides.

You rolled your eyes and lightly smacked his chest.

“Just get me into the tub, would you?” you muttered.

Jesper chuckled and hoisted you into the water, soaking his shirt sleeves in the process. He unbuttoned and shucked off his shirt, grinning when he saw your gaze unabashedly glued to his chest.

“Like what you see, gorgeous” he said quietly, but it wasn’t a question.

You nodded anyway, then tipped your head back as far as you could to wet your hair. Jesper filled his palms with silky shampoo and waited for you to be ready before covering your hair in it and working it through, grimacing a little as it turned pink from your blood. He studied your face carefully, but you didn’t even flinch when his fingertips grazed the new stitches in your scalp.

“I should have been with you” he mumbled suddenly, staring down at your leg under the water, wrapped in bandaging.

Your eyes snapped open and you scowled at him.

“What nonsense” you retorted, and he blinked slowly at you, uneasy. “You’d probably be dead. They shot at Kaz when he came back for me.”

You breathed in sharply through your nose and he watched your bottom lip tremble, a sure sign you weren’t far from tears. He snatched at your hand, holding it tightly in the water. You looked hard at him, as if memorising every single detail of his much loved face. Just in case one day you woke up not to see it again.

“No, Jes, darling man” you said softly. “You should not have been there. And I’m glad you weren’t.”

“Okay.”

Jesper nodded quickly, but his inhale was shaky and unsure as he imagined that damn bullet felling you and Kaz fighting his way back to find you on the ground.

“Hey. Jesper Llewellyn.”

Your voice was soft, but it was enough to drag him back to you in the present.

“Yeah?”

His was just as soft.

“I love you.”

The tension in his shoulders faded away slowly and he leaned over the water to kiss your forehead, your eyes closing with the tender gesture.

Before he could say it back, you spoke up again.

“And Jes?”

“Hmm?”

“Thank you for washing my hair.”

He smiled and kissed you again in the same spot.

“You’re welcome, love” he murmured into your skin. “And I love you, too.”

Tagging: @writingmysanity @elizabeth-karenina

#jesper fahey #jesper fahey x reader #jesper fahey x female reader #liss writes #shadow and bone fic #soc fic #six of crows

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xxjewellynwatts · 3 years

Text

The Perfect moment might never come — A Llewellyn Watts x OC (you!) fanfic

Request: Something along the lines of Llewellyn Watts and the reader having secret feelings for each other and then share their first kiss in a time of crisis....

Answer: took a break from my abnormally tight schedule + constant adrenaline rush state to write this gem. neptune in pisces this year is killing me w those illusionary feelings. this is a nice let out.

This is a fem!reader fanfic! I like to think this young sir is bi. My left hand still has no ring on it, I’m waiting for him lmfao.

You had been hired by the Police station number 4 as the first female detective after saving Murdoch and his colleagues from a near-psychopath who had put up a trap with some tricks and riddles for you to find them.

Obviously when Llewellyn first saw you, he deeply appreciated you saving his life and his colleagues’ life (who wouldn’t!) and also found your face particularly symmetrical but never dared to say it.

As for you, you were a lovely, confident, fun and awkwardly smart young lady. Station #4 quickly got found of you. You’d think about the little things that made people’s day easier and happier, you’d make everyone laugh (young, old, man and woman alike!), you’d solve with your quick witty mind abstract and complex problems (from helping Murdoch’s physics experiments to dangerously tricky crimes). Yes, to say station #4 was found of you was the very least.

As the time passed by, you didn’t notice how Llewellyn would always try to be around you when working on a case, or, when you both were sloppily sitting around the station doing boring work, how he’d always find a way to clumsily discuss with you newspaper articles, and show you around town. You didn’t notice how he’d silently look at you while you were working with others, holding a leaf in his hands as the autumn winds mimicked his whimsy thoughts.

As the time passed by, you didn’t notice how you were also trying to impress him and how much you enjoyed randomly finding his hat lingering around after he had forgotten it. You started liking that smile of his when you came to him with his hat in hand as he would snap his fingers and clumsily thank you.

It had been a few months now and you grew increasingly nervous yet happy yet shy yet bold every time you saw him around. Little did you know he felt the same, the only difference is you couldn’t tell, as he had always been awkward and clumsy. But you loved that about him. You loved everything about him.

And so once he got in the police station today, you barely had the time to mentally register him putting his hat on you before snapping his fingers and getting you up from the chair.

‘Come, quick’ he said. ‘Or there will be a murder... no, two murders.’

Surprised, you only followed him along, holding his hat close to you in an anxious way. You had been thinking about a plan to eventually reveal your feelings for him. And after all the cases and crimes and riddles and tricks you had solved and all the times you had endangered your own life for the sake of finding the truth, you were positively convinced that telling someone you loved them was the most dangerous thing one could ever do. What’s more, the right time never seemed to arrive. You two were either too casual (in your own awkward ways) or too blinded by the adrenaline of solving a crime and endangering your lives to ever properly talk about something so serious.

‘Are you okay?’ you suddenly heard.

You snapped your head at him. You had been following him, head down to his hat in your anxious hands.

‘Yes, sorry. What happened?’ you quickly hid your nervousness.

He starred at you for a while, brows furrowed but didn’t insist.

‘Apparently, Murdoch has a few enemies and one of them got out of prison and is now holding both him and Julia hostage. And I think I have found... the location.’ he said as he starred at a big factory where you two just arrived. He showed you a paper which contained random numbers. Random, until you accordingly put them in order to make up the date of creation of this factory.

‘18th of July 1889’ you breathed.

He smiled, appreciating your quickness. But before you could both head inside, the sound of a gun took you out by surprise. Instinctively, Llewellyn held your head as you both crouched down.

‘Apparently, there are two enemies who got out of jail...’ you said as you looked at him.

You both quickly ran inside and tried to find where Murdoch and Julia had been locked.

You opened a door using your hair clip and finally found the couple. They were gagged and tied to a heavy machine which produced dangerous gas.

Llewellyn and you coughed as you untied Murdoch and Julia and you quickly ran out of the factory which was threatening to explode any minute now.

But as you rushed out and shouted to everybody around to run as far away as possible from the factory, you saw Llewellyn’s hat on the floor, where you had both crouched down a few minutes ago when the first bullet had been shot.

For some unexplainable reason, you felt the urge to go back and get it, and acted upon that urge. As you heard Llewellyn yell and run after you, you thought, paradoxically about why you were doing that. Perhaps it was because this hat had been the symbol of the meeting of you two. It was the only thing that made you feel the closest to him. It was the only thing that could excuse you hanging around with him, using the returning of his hat as an excuse.

You quickly grabbed it as a shot brushed your leg. The adrenaline was too high for you to notice though, so you took the hat and ran into Llewellyn who had been running after you.

You both fell to the ground, breathing heavily. You were bleeding a little bit from your leg and the factory threatened to explode any second now.

‘Why did you run back?!’ quickly shouted Llewellyn as he shook your shoulders.

You starred at the hat in disbelief.

‘I.. I... I...’ you quickly said, shaking your head around. ‘I couldn’t leave it!’ you shouted back.

‘This is just a hat, L/N!’

‘No, it’s not! It’s your hat. Only this hat makes me as happy as it does when I randomly find it.’ you quickly shouted back.

He starred at you, shocked and you starred back, just as shocked of your own words. The moment seemed long... it was not. Your ears rang, the heat was insufferable, you both were in terrible danger and had to get up now and run.

‘How come your face is so symmetrical even when you’re angry...’ he suddenly quickly mumbled to himself.

And with no second thought, you both kissed each other right before getting quickly back up and running.

The factory exploded, like your heart.

You could not believe what just happened.

‘Y/N...’ said Llewellyn after you both hid far enough from the chaos. ‘I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to...’ he quickly said, looking down. He could not dare to look at you. He was ashamed of what he did but knew he would do the same thing if he locked eyes with you.

‘Llewellyn, I love you.’ you quickly said.

You slowly put his hat on his head as he slowly beamed, realizing what you said.

‘So... You mean...’ he said with his nearly broken voice.

You kissed him again.

And once you saw the beam on his face, you finally understood that the reason why he was so happy every time you found his hat was because you brought it to him.

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henry-higgins-is-a-vibe · 3 years

Text

Being Drinking Buddies With George And Llewellyn Would Include

not my gif

Thanks @libbyangelofthelord for requesting! I hope you like it!

You probably either work at the station house or somehow you knew George and he introduced you to Llewellyn.

So, you were all having a bad day.

Depending on where you work (either at the station house or somewhere else) is how it all happened.

If you work at the station house Murdoch and Brackenreid were probably working on a difficult case and made sure everyone was doing something AT ALL TIMES.

So, it would’ve been a long tiring day.

If you work somewhere else then George and Llewellyn would’ve seen you walking down the street on their way to the bar and invited you to join them.

So, however you end up there, the three of you make your way to a table and order some drinks.

Now this is where it gets interesting.

So, once George has had a few drinks his insane unlikely theories come out.

Now then Llewellyn checks the “facts” and how “possible” they are and it’s pretty funny to watch, because George will defend his theories and takes them very seriously (especially after a few drinks).

But they trail off and start telling ridiculous stories *mostly about Henry*.

If you don’t work at the station house George and Llewellyn would tell you about cases they’re working on.

Now going to the bar with them probably became a reoccurring thing.

So, like every Friday you three would meet at the bar and just hang out.

Sometimes if y’all are not in the mood for drinks maybe you would just hang out at the park together.

The three of you would probably become closer and make a great trio.

#llewellyn watts #geroge crabtree #hcs #would include #headcanons #murdoch #cbc murdoch #llewellyn watts x reader #george crabtree x reader #murdoch mysteries

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nosferatvpussy · 4 years

Text

distorted lullabies [chapter XV]

Word count: 5,674

Warnings: vulgar language

Pairing: Dracula x female reader

Not the gif I wanted but I was too lazy to search for longer.

AO3 link

_______________

My ears rang with the grating sound of Judge Llewellyn’s voice projecting inside the courtroom. I glanced at my wristwatch. The session should have been over at 4.30pm but it was now past 5. Through the window closest to me, I could see that the sky had lost its orange clouds amidst light blue in favour of pinks and deep blues. Dracula would start calling me incessantly at any moment now, like he’d done yesterday.

Surreptitiously, I slid a hand on my trousers’ front pocket and grabbed my phone. I eased back on my seat to glimpse the screen from under the table. Jane Grisham’s client – my newest client as of yesterday, actually – huffed at my side but I ignored him; my problem was life or death, his was the possibility of ten years in prison which he well deserved.

No messages from Count Dracula so far, except the ones from last night. I scrolled up the texts. Odd. I dared bring the phone closer to check if my phone was on airplane mode to justify this but I could see three bars at the top indicating that I had signal.

“Are we boring you, Miss L/N?”

I scrambled into a proper posture as I clicked the phone off and hurriedly put it back in my pocket. My eyes met Judge Llewellyn’s up in his pulpit and I forced an innocent smile at his chiding stare.

“Apologies, my lord. Please proceed.”

The prosecutor, a scrawny old man, raised a contemptuous eyebrow at me before he continued scribbling on a notebook. Llewellyn was nearing the end of the session, going over court dates and times, which was indeed boring, and I knew he would email the details later to make sure nobody made any mistakes, so his speech wasn’t as important as he thought.

I rubbed the corners of my eyes as much as my make up would allow to try and clear the sensation that I had sand in my eyes from lack of sleep. I’d gotten only two hours of sleep – that is, if I combined all the moments I nodded off when shuffling through files, otherwise I wouldn’t say I’d slept at all. I had spent the night staring at the window until sunrise, listening to every minimal sound that could indicate that Count Dracula had found me hiding in Mallory’s guestroom. When Mallory finally woke up earlier that morning, I had already gotten ready for work, stuffed all my things back in my suitcase, made us breakfast and sat down with a cup of untouched tea to mull over what I was going to say to Dracula. By the time Mallory and I left for work, I was confident with my little speech but as the day stretched on and exhaustion settled over me, I doubted that I was capable of many coherent thoughts. Facing Count Dracula when my head was a jumble and I could scarcely keep my eyes open wasn’t ideal but I had no other choice. My ten days were beyond over.

Llewellyn briefly interrupted himself as the courtroom’s door opened with a creak. He regarded whoever had entered the courtroom before resuming. Clicking heels approaching me made me turn my head just in time to see Mallory taking a seat behind me with the audience, a stern look on her face.

Without turning away from the court, I leaned back to give her my ear.

“St Thomas Hospital called me just now, they’re letting Renfield out,” she whispered. My foot bumped into the table as if I had just been shocked by high voltage. My mouth opened and closed. None of what Mallory had just said made sense. She placed a hand on my shoulder. “Dracula vouched for him to leave, he’s one of Renfield’s emergency contacts, apparently. The nurse told me that Dracula called them to say that you will be picking up Renfield after release hours tonight because you’re caught up in court duty. Renfield gave the nurse my number so I could notify you. Y/N, how did Dracula know you’d be in court until late? Is he stalking you?”

My head started spinning from the moment Mallory said Dracula had vouched for Renfied, and I failed to process the rest of what she’d said.

Was he taunting me because the ten days were up? Was it a threat to Renfield’s life? A threat that he could hurt the people around me because I didn’t abide to his deadline?

“We’re adjourned,” Llewellyn declared, and I shot up from my seat at once, gathering my things as quickly as I could before striding out of the courtroom with Mallory at my side; my client forgotten.

“Y/N, is he stalking you?” she asked again when we were at the Royal Courts of Justice’s halls.

“I don’t know! Maybe. I wouldn’t put it past him.”

“You can’t keep seeing him if he is.”

“I don’t really have a choice in that matter, Mal,” I scoffed. She grabbed my elbow to make me look at her. Noting her scowl, I continued, “He’s a client, I can’t deny seeing him if he requests.” It wasn’t a lie but wasn’t the proper explanation either.

“Don’t play stupid with me, you know what I meant. Y/N, if he’s dangerous–”

“He is. He is very dangerous but I can deal with him,” I said, forcing my voice to sound strong to make me believe it, too. I untangled myself from Mallory. “I’ve got to go pick up Renfield. Talk to you later, Mal.”

______________________________________________________

“Miss? We’re here,” said the cabbie.

By his tone I knew he had said it at least once before and I hadn’t heard him.

Renfield should be waiting for me inside St Thomas Hospital with his bags packed and a harmless, sane look in his eyes, at least I hoped. Count Dracula could be waiting in there, too, waiting for me to walk right into his arms. If I was smarter and less tired, I would give the cabbie Mallory’s address, but I couldn’t run forever.

I rubbed my forehead. Exhaustion made it harder to evaluate all the possible consequences if I walked out of the car and into the hospital.

“Can you wait for me here?” I finally said to the cabbie. “I’m picking up someone and I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

“No problem,” he said, glancing at the taximeter with a small smile in his mouth.

I considered my suitcase in the backseat and left, unconcerned. There wasn’t anything valuable in there to a cabbie, unless he had a secret propensity for crossdressing.

My legs guided me through the hospital as if I was on autopilot while I cast furtive glances at every corner. More than once my heart sank when I saw a tall silhouette at the end of a hallway until I realised it was too short or too skinny to be Count Dracula.

Breathing was a hard task when I neared the psych ward but it was too late to turn back. People passed me, watery eyes and runny noses as a little girl complained that her dad sounded funny and asked her mother why dad drooled all the time and wouldn’t blink. The mother looked at me and I focused ahead of me, pretending I hadn’t heard any of that.

Nurse Margaret greeted me with a warm smile when I stopped at the nurse’s station inside the psych ward.

“Wondered if you’d really come. Your fiancée said you were quite busy.”

I raised my eyebrows.

“My what?”

“Your fiancée,” she repeated, enunciating the word clearly like I’d missed it the first time. “He called earlier and said that Mr. Renfield will be getting his treatments from home now and that you’d come tonight to sign his release forms.”

“He’s not my fiancée.”

“Oh. I must’ve heard him wrong, then, but I’m sure he said the word bride…” her gaze was lost in thought for a moment.

“Where do I sign?” I asked with more than a touch of impatience.

Margaret frowned lightly at my rudeness but retrieved a thin stack of papers from below her desk. Using a pen, she pointed at several paragraphs while she repeated without reading, almost word for word, what was written. Because Renfield had been committed on account of violent behaviour he would have to attend psychotherapy sessions inside St Thomas Hospital and see a psychiatrist every fifteen days – Nurse Margaret informed me that the normal procedure was usually every week but Renfield’s doctor had seen fantastic improvement and decided that fifteen days was more adequate in his case until he was deemed mentally healthy. She showed me where to sign and reminded me at each turn of a page that Renfield would be under my responsibility since I was permitting his release. When I was done signing everything, Margaret left to get Renfield.

Minutes rolled by and I paced around the waiting room like I was a caged beast, peering around corners, breath hitching in my chest whenever I heard a man’s voice. Clicking high heels drew me out to the hallway and I exhaled in relief upon seeing Renfield striding next to Nurse Margaret and a male nurse carrying a box. He was dressed in the very same clothes he had been wearing the morning he attacked me but they were clean and looked a little bigger on his frame than they did before. His glasses slid down his nose as he walked. They were too big for his face but he never wore another pair, even when I gave him new ones on his birthday. I smiled as he pushed them back over the bridge of his nose. Stubborn man. He smiled back.

“Happy to leave?” I asked him.

“You’ve got no idea,” he replied, and surprised me by planting a kiss to my forehead. I froze for a second. He was usually awkward about physical contact with almost anyone. Therapy must have driven another man to crawl out of him. “You didn’t come visit me last week. How was the wedding?”

“Not great,” I said, staring into his eyes. They didn’t change, so I assumed he didn’t know what had happened. He could also be wearing his courtroom face which was just as good as mine, better even.

At that, Margaret said her goodbyes with a warm smile and told us that Roger, the slender nurse carrying a cardboard box, would accompany us down with Renfield’s books. I noticed Renfield analysing me as I fidgeted inside my shoes and forced myself to stop. Roger tried to make small talk on the way out but I couldn’t give him more than a few words.

The taxi was parked in the same exact spot as before. The cabbie nodded at me, blowing out smoke before throwing his cigarette to the ground and stomping it. My feet hurt as I hurried towards him and my worry subsided a little. I’d made it. Renfield was out and I hadn’t seen Count Dracula. It wasn’t a trap but I still didn’t understand his true intention by doing so.

The cabbie opened the door for me and I entered the car, relaxing in my seat to feel the coolness of the window against my forehead. Roger placed the box next to me so when Renfield took a seat, it laid between us.

“Why am I out?” Renfield asked in the short pause it took for the cabbie to close our door and round the car towards the driver’s seat.

I stared at him.

“If you don’t know, what makes you think I would?”

“You’re his brid–” Renfield cut the word short when the cabbie threw himself behind the wheel. He leaned forward and gave the cabbie his address. When he spoke to me again, his voice was low over the sound of the car’s engine. “From my experience, the Count isn’t particularly kind and I know he would never do this for me, especially after my little outburst. There must be a reason for this benevolence.”

“At the wedding he said that you could have some of his things shipped from Romania to London. Maybe he has need of them now.”

Renfield gave me a lopsided smile. It was usually the smile he reserved for cross examining witnesses. A venomous snake just before it struck.

“The wedding. Something happened there, didn’t it?” He inquired. I chose to look out of the window instead of facing him. “You won’t look at me, which means I’m right. Please tell me you were smart enough to listen to what I told you.”

Surrender with arms wide open or he’ll hurt you and those around you. Listen to me. He will.

I surrendered but not fast enough. Not fast enough to take back everything I had done.

“I really should have listened to you,” I confessed. “He did exactly what you said he would.”

“Even though he’s lived a long time, patience isn’t one of his virtues, Y/N.”

“It wasn’t lack of patience,” I muttered. “Actually, he’s been nothing if not patient with me. I went behind his back and it blew up in my face, and you don’t need to chastise me about it. I’ve got enough guilt as it is.”

“What did he do?”

A weird question from him. Finally, I met his eyes again and was surprised to find that I knew the man behind them.

“Mallory,” I said as a means of explanation. There wasn’t much we could say with the cabbie listening. “She’s okay, though.”

“So are you,” Renfield said as he extended a hand and brushed my hair away from my neck.

“For now. I owe him an explanation, which I was supposed to give it to him yesterday but work happened. I’m not sure how he’ll–” I regarded Renfield for the second time that night. “You’re worried about me?”

“Of course I am.” He frowned, seemingly offended that I had to ask. “I wear glasses but I’m not completely blind. You haven’t been sleeping,” he said as he tapped under his eye. Covering my dark circles with a decent amount of concealer obviously didn’t disguise it enough. “And you were fidgeting inside the hospital because you were afraid of encountering Count Dracula. Cowardice is a horrible look on you, Y/N.”

“You haven’t asked me what I did to Dracula.”

“It mustn’t have been good to drive him towards Mallory. And why should it matter what you did to him? It’s no excuse.”

“Oh, my god,” I murmured, staring at him in shock as I pieced it together. The kiss to the forehead, his concern, the completely sane look to his eyes...

“What? Did you think I’d defend him if he hurt you?”

“He released you,” I said. Renfield’s frown deepened as he looked from me to the hospital like I had just stated the obvious. “He released you from him,” I spoke quietly so the cabbie wouldn’t hear it but Renfield did. His face paled until it was stark white in the car’s low light.

“No…”

“Would you ever speak of him this way if he hadn’t?”

He shook his head.

Letting Renfield out of the hospital wasn’t a threat or a ploy to get me. It was a gift. However dim the possibility, my brain latched on to the idea that it wasn’t simply a gift, but an apology. Being merciful wasn’t at all like Dracula. It wouldn’t fix what he had done but it was something. If he had freed Renfield out of the goodness of his heart or if he had done it for ulterior motives, it didn’t really matter. I had begged for Renfield and offered myself up in exchange and Dracula had dismissed my attempts. Before, he had never cared how much that hurt me. And now this; an abrupt kindness to make up for his deeds.

“He wouldn’t– no,” Renfield grumbled. “Why– he, he can’t… he can’t do this to me. I’ll be alone.”

“You’ll have me,” I retorted.

“No, you’re his. I know you are. It’s in your eyes, and you want it, too. You’ll be like him and who will I be, hm?” His voice was thin but carried the weight of restrained emotion. “Nobody, I’ll be nobody. In a few years the both of you won’t even remember me.”

To my horror, twin tears streamed down his face.

Dracula had called him weak once, and suddenly I understood why he could see Renfield like that. Renfield himself had said that he didn't exist without Count Dracula but I’d deduced he had been made to believe that as a slave. His weeping told of an abandonment I couldn’t understand, and hoped never would. As much as I dreaded the idea, some people can only fathom existence if they have a leash around their neck to guide them. Sometimes the leash is religion or politics, and least often it is a centuries old vampire. It comforted Renfield, I supposed, this feeling of unquestionable certainty, and to have that teared away debased him.

Revulsion wrapped its claws around my ankles until it creeped up to my face in a scowl. It wasn’t Renfield’s fault that this world had made him like this and I shouldn’t blame him for wanting direction under a tight fist of a warlord, and yet I found that an ugly part of me despised him for it. Did that mean I shared something in common with Count Dracula? One of his defects?

“It’ll pass,” I told Renfield, looking out the window. “You’ll find your footing again soon. And no matter what you think or what happens, I’ll remember you.”

Despite his desolation, I was glad that he was back to himself. If it made me selfish, so be it. Although I wasn’t sure I was more pleased that Renfield was himself again or that Dracula had done it for me.

When we arrived at Renfield’s flat in Chelsea, he refused any help to carry his belongings out of the car, so he stumbled out with the cardboard box and his small suitcase. At my request, the cabbie waited until I was sure Renfield was safe inside his building and then I gave him my address.

I fished my phone from my purse and skimmed through my texts. Still none from Dracula. My fingers started typing before I could really think about what I was doing.

_____________________________________________________

Count Dracula knocked briefly on Lucy’s balcony door before opening it. She had been lying on her stomach, texting someone, but turned around to greet him with a kittenish grin. The bed’s covers were instantly thrown away with a swift movement to expose her legs.

“Finally! I thought you were giving up on me,” she exclaimed, rising on the bed to stand on her knees. He allowed her to pull him closer by his jacket’s lapels but when she neared his lips, he turned his face slightly to the side and she kissed only the corner of his mouth. “Nobody ignores my texts, you know.”

“Alas, I did”– he raised an eyebrow– “but you were begging for me and I had to come to put an end to it.”

That elicited another grin from her. A few days ago he would have found it charming, it was odd that it didn’t get a reaction out of him now. He hadn’t spent time with Lucy ever since before the wedding, so maybe that’s all he needed to warm up to her again – time.

“Tell me you’re taking me out tonight,” she goaded, pouting.

“Don’t you have class tomorrow morning?”

“Yes but–”

“Then no.” He pushed her back on the bed and she fell with a laugh. “I’d rather do this,” he murmured as he climbed on top of her.

She wriggled under him, doing her best to incite him as she rubbed her neck near his mouth, her hips twisting in need as her legs wrapped about his waist to brush up against him. He let her touch him, and he waited for desire to rise. She whined when he didn’t respond to her advances.

Nothing stirred in him. He rolled off of her, throwing an arm over his face. His arm was lifted not a second later and he glanced at Lucy as she wrapped it around herself to snuggle up to his chest. He patted her shoulder, gazing up at the star pattern stamped on Lucy’s ceiling. Releasing Renfield should appease Y/N, which is what he wanted, but so far there was no news from her. He couldn’t stay in his home pacing around as he waited for a call. And then Lucy’s text had arrived and he decided it was better to go distract himself. No use so far.

“Did you have fun on your trip?” She asked him softly.

“Up to a point.”

“Did you miss me?”

“No, not really,” he said. Lucy chuckled, as she always did whenever he was too serious. He wasn’t sure if she interpreted his seriousness as a joke or if she laughed it off because she didn’t know how to react.

“But you’re here,” she continued.

“It seems so, yes.”

He could tell that she wanted him to say that he had missed her but he wouldn’t lie. If she was hurt, then it was for the best.

Lucy quickly maneuvered herself so she could straddle him. His hands automatically went to her thighs as she settled in a comfortable position.

“Okay, so you didn’t come here to talk or to take me out.” Lowering her body over his, she popped a button on his shirt. Then another. “We can do other stuff, more interesting stuff…” Another button opened and she splayed her hands on his chest, stroking his skin. She moved her hips back and forth over his and his body stirred in response. Ah, so he wasn’t completely immune to her, it seemed. When she leaned in to kiss him, he let her. He breathed in her scent, and the charm was broken as swiftly as it had begun. It wasn’t the smell of honey he so longed for. “You’re being weird,” Lucy mumbled against his lips before pulling back to observe him.

Shutting his eyes, he forced himself to relax, concentrating on wiping Y/N’s scent from his brain. He covered Lucy’s hands with his own when he felt a tug on another button. Her fingers persisted but a light squeeze on them made her stop.

“How come?”

“It’s fine if you don’t want to fuck because god knows all you want to do is drink me but you’re barely touching me, and usually you can’t keep your hands to yourself.” She wiggled her hips. “You’re not even hard, and I’m really trying here, Drac.” He laughed at her pout. She had never looked so offended since he’d met her and he had said things to her that would make anyone’s blood curdle. “It’s not funny. I was right that time, wasn’t I? You really don’t want me anymore.”

He opened his mouth to answer her, then his phone vibrated in his pocket, and froze. Lucy narrowed her eyes at him and glanced at the lit screen shining through the fabric of his trousers. She plucked his phone out, swatting his hands away when he tried to take it from her, and pushed off of his lap. He gripped thin air when she scooted out of the bed. He clenched his jaw. Lucy’s bratty behaviour was something he had learnt to enjoy but he didn’t find anything fun about it now.

“Give it to me, Lucy,” he said, holding out a hand as he sat. She bit her lip and shook her head to the sides as the phone lit her face from beneath. “Fine, then. Read the message aloud, please.”

“ I’m heading home now if you want to talk. And thank you. ” She read, making a face. “Who’s Y/N?”

Dracula grinned. A thank you from her was enough to bring him contentment, more than Lucy’s playful nature ever would. That boy from the pub, Trent, was apparently correct in saying that doing something nice for her might draw her out. If Dracula knew the outcome would be so perfect, he would have spared him for that alone.

“My lawyer,” he said, his grin widening. “Give it back to me, Lucy.”

She placed the phone in his palm with an eye roll before sprawling on the bed again.

“Is she the reason why you’re leaving me?”

“How could I leave you if we weren’t together to begin with?”

“Ouch.”

“I swore I’d be sincere with you from the start, and I also told you this wouldn’t become a relationship. Save your ‘ouch’,” he told her, smirking.

Taking advantage that Lucy appeared momentarily distracted by his words, he opened his texts. Beneath Y/N’s text, there was an opened one from Chelsea. He deleted it without reading it. She’d given him her number yesterday and while he thought to discard it, he was glad he hadn’t. After all, it was useful so he could find out when Y/N would be leaving work and Chelsea, appealing to gain his attention, had kindly provided the information that Y/N would be busy with court until late. It gave him a small window to call the hospital until the message reached her that Renfield was being released. Cutting the servitude ties to Renfield was as simple as closing a door. It opened another so he could make his way back to Y/N.

A sniffle drew his attention up as he was typing. Lucy turned her face toward him from where she lied, batting wet eyelashes at him.

“Lucy… Crying over me?” He smiled. “Didn’t you tell me you couldn’t get your heart broken and that you would be the one doing the heart breaking?”

“I’m crying because I never thought someone would reject me.” She huffed, and he laughed again, earning him a light, playful smack on the shoulder. “It’s sort of absurd.”

“You’re irredeemably spoiled.”

“I know.” She wiped the tears before crawling into his lap and pushing his arms away so she could fit between them. His phone was cast somewhere among her pillows. Lucy’s curls bounced as she settled on top of him and he smoothed them, being careful not to accidentally pull one. The time he’d done that, Lucy had made his ears ring from complaining so much. “But you like me anyway?” He simply nodded. “Hm. Can I meet her?”

“What?” He asked, as if his hearing had failed for the first time in centuries.

“Can I meet Y/N?”

“Why?”

“I want to see what I’m up against.”

“It’s not a competition, Lucy–”

“Okay. But what if–” she gave him a malicious smile “–c’mon, imagine… If I like her too, then maybe the three of us–”

“Lucy–”

“No, hear me out. It’s actually brilliant, and it’d be fun. I’ve never done anything like it. And if you make her a vampire too–”

“Lucy, stop.” He shook her lightly, making her furrow her eyebrows. “It could be fun, yes. Terribly fun, actually,” he said as he considered the image Lucy’s suggestion conjured. “But it’s not happening. None of it.”

“None of it?” She repeated.

“None, dear,” he asserted. A smile struggled on the corners of his mouth. He had come to see Lucy for one reason but now he wondered his true motivation. Had he known what he was doing, subconsciously? “I won’t come to see you anymore.”

She gaped.

“You’re going to let me wither and die, aren’t you?” she accused.

He chuckled, tilting his head.

“I trust you’ll find some inventive way to kill yourself before you reach old age.”

“You are my inventive way! You promised me eternal life, that I’d pretty forever–”

“Lucy…” he grabbed her jaw to make her stop talking and she whined, although her eyes twinkled slightly at his bruteness. “I really don’t care. I’ve made my decision.”

Tears appeared on her eyes.

“Oh, please, stop with the crying,” he requested, cupping her cheek so a thumb could catch a fat tear before it spilled. He licked it, savouring the salt of her hurt. “I’ve had to deal with vast amounts of it lately and I don’t deserve your tears. They won’t get you anywhere with me.” He sighed. “I don’t want you anymore, Lucy, but it has nothing to do with you. I’ve simply found what I was looking for in someone else. And in her alone.” He smiled. “Y/N is my perfect fruit.”

“You don’t have to be mean,” she grumbled.

“You’ve never seen me being mean. I realise now that I said the same words to you once and I thought them to be true at the time but not anymore. I don’t regret our time together, Lucy, and I’ll enjoy remembering it years from now. This is goodbye.”

Delicately, he started pushing her out of his lap but she grappled on to him. If she continued being a brat he might have to pry her hands away. When he gazed into her eyes he glimpsed in them an unforeseen sobriety. He hadn’t thought she was capable of it.

“You won’t make me a vampire. I don’t want to grow old, and I won’t, so before you leave me, will you give me death? A sweet, tragic death that will make people wail at my funeral and say “oh poor Lucy, gone so soon”? Pretty, pretty please?”

“Vain until your last moments, aren’t you, Lucy?”

“Always,” she proclaimed with a proud tilt of her chin. “Give me at least that if you’re going to dump me. What’s there to live for anyway?”

Dark eyes studied her face as he inhaled her scent. There was no fear tainting his senses. Lucy never feared anything from him which was what had drawn him to her at first, yet it wasn’t powerful enough to hold his interest. She didn’t want more out of life except for death. In that sense, Y/N and Lucy were entirely opposites. One couldn’t live forever if life’s eternal paths didn’t interest them; at least Y/N searched for something worth living for.

“Are you serious?” He asked, raising an eyebrow. She nodded solemnly. “Death is not a caprice. You can’t take it back, Lucy. If this is your last hope that I’ll keep you, that I’ll suddenly change my mind at the last second, then you underestimate me.”

“I’m dead serious,” she said, widening her eyes at her own joke. Dracula’s expression didn’t change. “I am, Drac. And why do you care?”

“I don’t.”

“Then do it,” she urged before brushing her hair away and exposing her neck to him.

Scars marked her neck and he bent forward instinctively, like it beckoned him closer. Lucy leaned in, her tiny chest heaving next to his, and he enveloped her in a tight embrace. Choosing to kill Lucy would leave only Y/N in his path, by doing it he would kill yet another bride, the one he was most certain would survive the metamorphosis. However glorious was that possibility there was nothing about Lucy that would make him want her as a companion.

“As a last courtesy…” he whispered, laying his lips on a vein. Her pulse accelerated and the vein jumped, coaxing him to take it cautiously between his teeth. “Lucy, my darkling… I’ll be your easeful Death.” He smiled at his own quotation but she didn’t seem to quite catch it. Y/N would have understood it. She stimulated everything in him, and managed to ignite parts of him that had been long forgotten. He hungered for her like he hungered for blood. What did Lucy do to him? Nothing, nothing, nothing.

His teeth cut through her and she slumped, melting into him. The taste of her blood was familiar and did not sing to him as it once did. He devoured her methodically. A flavorless drink, like an alcoholic’s bottle of choice. She didn’t move once, not even when death’s spasms should have seized her body.

Once she grew cold, utterly depleted of blood, he laid her on the bed, arranged the covers around her and fluffed the pillows. After considering it, he closed her eyes with the tips of his fingers and fixed the crown of curls about her head. Her dainty lips were slightly parted in her pout. A pretty picture for her mother to find – sweet and tragic, like Lucy had asked. He admired her for a moment and nodded in approval. It had been fun and if she wanted death, it was only right that he gave it to her.

Dracula’s shirt clung to the sides of his chest, dampened by the little blood that had escaped his mouth. He considered the dark swirls of hair on his chest muddled by red liquid; a shower was in order when he got home. His shirt made a muffled, wet sound as he buttoned it up.

His phone rested near Lucy’s shoulder. The screen was smeared with red but it was no trouble seeing through it as he opened Y/N’s message again.

It would be late at night until he made himself presentable to her, and she would be tired until then. Killing a bride in favour of another also occupied his mind more than he expected. Y/N had ensnared him, completely. He was used to it being the other way around. He had given her time and in that time he had done nothing but kill to cleanse himself from her. It hadn’t worked. Perhaps it was time he did some reflection of his own, before they met again.

Truce for now, we meet tomorrow. You’re welcome.

“She’s making me soft,” he muttered to himself. He eyed Lucy and rose an eyebrow. “Wouldn’t you say so, dear?”

A/N: Writing this chapter was a struggle, especially the last scene. Once again, not the right mindset for it in my opinion. For those who aren't familiar with what Dracula quotes, it's from Ode to a Nightingale by John Keats. As a treat, I'll let you all know that they'll be reunited in the next chapter... and that's all I'll say about that.

@festering-queen @feralstare @rheabalaur @a-dorky-book-keeper @thorin-smokin-shield @dreamer2381 @deborahlazaroff @illbegoinhome @saint-hardy @girlonfireice @mr-kisskiss-bangbang @iwasjustablur @crossoverqueen89 @vampirescurse @blue-serendipity @sunscreenfeverdream @25ocurer @daydreaming136 @hello-itsbarbie @princessayveke

#I think I tagged everyone #if not let me know #dracula 2020 #dracula netflix #bbc dracula #dracula bbc #dracula fanfic #dracula fic #claes bang #claes bang fanfic #dracula x reader #distorted lullabies #vampire fanfic

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usedbooksworld · 3 years

Text

Native American Oracle Cards

Cards – September 8, 2015

by Massimo Rotundo (Author), Lo Scarabeo (Author)

Tap into the collective imagination of Native American inspired imagery and symbols. The stylized artwork in this exciting deck provides a unique entry into your own spiritual work. From divination to journeying between worlds, this oracle is sure to help you understand more about yourself and the nature of our world.

The companion booklets for most Lo Scarabeo decks are in five languages: English, Spanish, French, Italian, and German.

About the Author

Massimo Rotundo is a fine-artist based in Italy.

Lo Scarabeo's Tarot decks have been acclaimed all over the world for originality and quality. With the best Italian and international artists, each Lo Scarabeo deck is an exceptional artistic value.

Commited to developing innovative new decks while preserving the rich tradition of Tarot, Lo Scarabeo continues to be a favorite among collectors and readers.

Llewellyn is the exclusive distributor of Lo Scarabeo products in North America.

Product details

Publisher ‏ : ‎ Llewellyn Publications; Tcr Crds edition (September 8, 2015)

Language ‏ : ‎ English

ISBN-10 ‏ : ‎ 0738747599

ISBN-13 ‏ : ‎ 9780738747590

Item Weight ‏ : ‎ 9.6 ounces

Dimensions ‏ : ‎ 4 x 1.25 x 5.5 inches

#Native American Oracle Cards

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livingcorner · 3 years

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Hatton Garden Heist leader ‘found sick pics of Tory child abuser’ in 1971 raid

Hatton Gardens heist boss Brian Reader was horrified when his gang broke into a bank vault and found sickening photos of a leading politician abusing children.

But the notorious crook was shocked further when the thieves left the pictures for police to find – only for the Tory Cabinet minister’s crimes to be hushed up.

You're reading: Hatton Garden Heist leader ‘found sick pics of Tory child abuser’ in 1971 raid

Reader, known as The Guv’nor, is facing jail for planning last year’s £14million Hatton Garden raid and claims about his previous high-profile break-in can now be revealed for the first time.

Lloyds Bank on the corner of Baker Street and Marylebone Road, London where the vault of the bank holding safe deposit boxes was broken into on the night of 11 September 1971 (

Image: Mirrorpix)

The images are said to have been found stashed in a safety deposit box in 1971 when the gang tunnelled into a branch of Lloyds in Baker Street, Central London, and escaped with a £3million haul.

A close confidant of 76-year-old career criminal Reader said: “It was a shock for them when they found photographs of a famous politician abusing children.

“The gang were disgusted and left them lying on the floor of the vault for the police to find but nothing was ever done.”

Daniel Mays Jason Statham in 2008 movie The Bank Job, which was based on the 1971 raid

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The Government of the time allegedly forced the press to stop reporting on the burglary as a matter of national security amid allegations raunchy photos of the late Princess Margaret were found in another safety deposit box in the vault.

But the latest claims, revealed to the Daily Mirror, are more disturbing and further evidence of the Establishment cover-up of powerful paedophiles.

We are not naming the politician, who has since died and was never publicly linked to allegations of child sexual abuse.

Read more: What Is A Victory Garden – Learn How To Start A Victory Garden

But we have passed details to the Independent Inquiry into Child Sexual Abuse, which is set to examine claims against Labour peer Lord Janner, who died before facing trial for child sexual abuse, and Lib Dem MP Cyril Smith, whose paedophilia was exposed after his death.

Inquiry chairman Judge Goddard said in November: “We will conduct an objective fact-finding inquiry into allegations of abuse by people of public prominence associated with Westminster.

Princess Margaret and Lord Snowdon Antony Armstrong Jones (

Image: Mirrorpix)

“The investigation will focus on high-profile allegations of child sexual abuse involving current or former Members of Parliament, senior civil servants, Government advisers, and members of the intelligence and security agencies.

“It will consider allegations of cover-up and conspiracy and will review the adequacy of law enforcement responses to these allegations.”

If the images found by Reader had been made public at the time, it would have caused a massive political scandal.

In 1971, he was beginning a criminal career spanning five decades which would involve him in raids worth more than £150million and make him Britain’s biggest thief.

His gang had spent months planning the Baker Street job.

They rented a leather goods shop, two doors up from the bank, and then tunnelled 40ft from the shop basement into the vaults.

Brian Reader and his late wife Lynne having dinner with friends in Paris in 1970

Once inside, they ransacked 268 safety deposit boxes – nearly four times the 73 opened by the Hatton Garden gang.

The source said: “Brian was not well when he did Baker Street because he was only a few months out of hospital after falling on his head on another job.

“But he has great stamina and wasn’t going to miss the chance of pulling off Britain’s biggest ever burglary.”

The raid remains the largest in British history despite claims Hatton Garden was larger.

In today’s money the £3million stolen would be equivalent to about £41million.

Four men were convicted of the crime, including photographer Tony Gavin, and were jailed for up to 12 years, but Reader escaped prosecution.

Brian Reader who had pleaded guilty to conspiracy to commit burglary over the raid at Hatton Garden Safety Deposit (

Image: Getty)

A second source, a gang member, previously told the Mirror in 2008 that child pornography was found in the vaults but did not give further details.

He said: “We were disgusted and left it in their open boxes so police could trace the owners.

We didn’t want to take anything that might give us extra trouble. All we wanted was cash and jewels.”

At the time of the raid, Princess Margaret’s marriage to Antony Armstrong-Jones, Earl of Snowdon, was in its final stages.

In the 60s and 70s the Queen’s sister was known to party hard on the Caribbean island of Mustique, where she was pictured with lover Roddy Llewellyn, a landscape gardener 17 years her junior.

Read more: The 13 Best Ways to Utilize Chili Peppers • The Chili Life

‘Basil’ on the second floor at Hatton Garden on day one of the robbery (

Image: PA)

She is said to have taken snaps of male friends frolicking naked but it is not known if any were ever taken of her.

The ex-raider would only say: “I can’t talk about that.”

Describing preparations for the break-in, the crook added: “Before we got started, myself and an accomplice dressed up in bowler hats and pinstripes and went into the bank.

“We were able to measure out the distance from the wall to the vault using an umbrella so we could calculate how far we needed to tunnel and didn’t end up popping up in the wrong place.”

Killer Michael X (

Image: Getty)

They tunnelled under the Chicken Inn restaurant next to the bank and used explosives to blast through 3ft of reinforced concrete.

The concrete was not wired to the alarm system as it was thought to be impenetrable. Eight tons of rubble were excavated and left behind.

The raider said: “When we finally came up I was unable to fit through the hole and could only stick my head in. But others got in and grabbed the boxes.”

Reader was too sick to help with the drilling but was among those who got into the vault to force open the boxes.

The first source said: “He was very good at opening them and soon the vault was piled high with empty boxes.”

One of the boxes belonged to Michael X, a drug dealer and Black Power leader who was convicted of murder and hanged in Trinidad in 1975.

The story of the break-in was made into 2008 film The Bank Job, starring Jason Statham and Daniel Mays.

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Source: https://livingcorner.com.au Category: Garden

source https://livingcorner.com.au/hatton-garden-heist-leader-found-sick-pics-of-tory-child-abuser-in-1971-raid/

#livingcornernews

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