#while ada will catch it with bare hands and throw it out of the window

[fivekrystalpetals]

Ada x Vincent in one pic:

[itsjustmyfantasyroom]

Officer Barba

Team meetings are amazing and thank you for reading over it @detective-giggles​

Warnings: Hand cuffs, hens night, they are getting married we will assume protection is a given and Rafi smut.

WC: 2228

Enjoy x

You had seen Liv look at her phone and then nudge Amanda. Amanda stood up walking over to you grabbing your hand and pulling you to the bathrooms. You both freshened up and you tucked in your white shirt back into your white shorts, fixed up your sash on your shoulder that had ‘Future Mrs Barba’ written on it in pink diamonds and looked down at your hot pink peep toed shoes to make sure there was no marks on them. You ran your fingers through your curled hair and quickly put on some more lip gloss before you and Amanda walked back out to your table, arms linked.

It was two weeks till the big day, it was going to be nothing over the top, but Liv and Amanda who were your bridesmaids along with your best friend had organised a small group of friends to take you out for the night to your favourite Thai restaurant and then onto your favourite retro club for a dance, you not wanting strippers. You weren’t a big drinker, but you had a couple over the night to let your hair down.

As you and Amanda walked back to the table one your favourite 90’s pop songs blustered through to club and you Amanda started to dance your way back to the table.  Once back Amanda sat down next to your best friend who was sitting next to Liv who was next to your other friends and you picked up your bottle of water taking a sip.

Your eyes ran around the table at your friends looking past you, some were giggling and others smiling, Liv and Amanda with their mouths dropped open. You sat the bottle down on the table and you turned around gasping your hands coming up to rest over your mouth your eyes flying wide open.

Rafael was making his way towards you in a police hat, a NYPD shirt, pants and a big smile on his face giving you a wink. Your whole body caught on fire and arousal shot through you. Rafael walked up till he was toe to toe with you,

“Is there a problem officer” you battered your eye lashes.

“Seems so” Rafael’s hand came to rest on your hip “You’re under arrest for being out dressed like this while your fiancé is home alone”

You bit your bottom lip and Rafael reached into his pocket pulling out a pair of black fluffy hand cuffs, you heard your table of friends including Liv and Amanda wolf whistle and squeal as they watched what was unfolding in front of them. You held your wrists out turned over for Rafael to cuff you with them,

“Don’t be too rough Officer”

“Don’t act innocent now, I know you like it rough” Rafael shot back with a grin making you laugh.

“Going to read me my rights?” You raised an eye brow as he clicked the second cuff on your wrist pulling you into his body, his lips at your ear,

“You have the right to remain silent unless you’re screaming my name, which tonight Hermosa, that’s the only thing you’ll be screaming”

Rafael nodded his head at the table with a smile, his hand going to the small of your back leading you out of the club after you looked over your shoulder yelling bye to them all. Rafael took the cuffs off once you got onto the street and then pulling you into a waiting cab and it taking off,

“Where-“

Rafael in a flash lent over his lips at your ear again, his breath fanning your neck sending goose bumps all over you,

“Be a good girl and don’t ask questions”

The cab pulled up in front of a hotel near central park, he paid the driver getting out walking around to your side opening the door and helping you out. Rafael pulled you towards the lifts pushing the up button. The lift came quickly and you both stepped in and Rafael pressed the 10th floor button. Rafael was looking forward in the lift with a straight face, you turned your head slightly eyeing him up in the full uniform and you whimpered feeling your panties dampen even more.

The lift arrived at the floor, Rafael’s hand going to the small of your back again leading you out of the lift and down the hall to a room door. Rafael reached into his pocket again pulling out a room key opening the door pushing you in. Once you were both inside Rafael shut the door and locked it and then walked up behind you as your eyes scanned the room, looking out the large window overlooking the park and the king size four poster bed. His lips were at your ear again, his body pressed against your back,

“Go and sit on the edge of the bed, now”

You did as he asked rushing over to the edge of the bed. You let your legs dangling over the edge. Rafael started to walk over to you slowly, his hands in his pockets as he came to stand in front of you, nudging your legs wide apart with his knee and moving to stand between them. You looked up at Rafael’s devilish grin as he pulled the police hat off his head and put it on yours, then running his pointer finger down your jaw, down the side of neck, stopping at the top of your cleavage,

“Is this a stop and frisk officer?” you purred looking up through you eye lashes at Rafael.

“Think I may have to do a full cavity search” Rafael smirked.

You giggled, blushing looking down and biting your lip. Rafael took a step back reaching down to grab one of your hands and pulled you to your feet,

“Hands on your head” Rafael barked at you.

You lifted your hands to rest on the back of your head. Rafael reached down to undo your shorts button and zipper pushing your shorts and panties down together and helped you step out of them and throwing them out of the way. He then moved onto the buttons of your shirt and you looked down whimpering watching his long fingers undoing the buttons one by one. Rafael let it fall open to your white lace bra, one hand reaching up to cup your breast pinching your nipples lightly through the lace and his other hand came down to run his fingers along your lower lips feeling how wet you were,

“Arms down and shirt off” Rafael said into your ear. Your hands dropped from the back of your head, shrugging off the shirt. You moaned loud as Rafael slid in two fingers hitting your sweet spot. “Bra off” he whispered again, his hand dropping from your breast down to your ass cheek gripping it tight while he thrusted his fingers into you fast, your knees trembling.

You let the bra slip off your shoulders throwing it somewhere near your other cloths. You then moved to throw the hat off your head and your hands came up to grab onto Rafael’s clothed shoulders, balling the police shirt into the balls of your hands,

“Oh Rafi” you moaned loud, your body burning and knees trembling.

You felt Rafael's hand leave your ass as it came back down delivering a sharp spank and you groaned your head falling back,

“Officer Barba to you naughty girl”

“Sorry Officer Barba” you whimpered out.

Your moans then filled the room when you felt the pad of his thumb touch your pulsing pearl circling it in time with his fingers and Rafael’s lips were at your ear again,

“When you come Y/N don’t hold back” His warm lips nipped at your ear lobe and he started to kiss down your neck.

Your knuckles were white from your hard grip and you pulled Rafael’s fully clothed body onto your bare one, the feeling of the cotton on your naked skin prickling your skin with goose bumps and your hips rolling down on his fingers. 

You couldn’t stop it, it hit you like lightening, your voice going horse while your release shot through you, Rafael whispering praises in your ear. When Rafael felt you starting to relax coming down from your high, he stepped away from you completely watching you trying to catch your breath,

“You were such a good girl”

“Did you find anything officer?” you said breathless with a smile and Rafael shock his head smirking.

“Hands behind your back” You did as he asked crossing your wrists behind your back resting them on your lower back and Rafael stepped close to you just enough to feel his body heat.

You watched on as he reached down undoing his belt buckle pulling it slowly out of all the loops of his pants seductively, his eyes intense and his smirk predatory throwing it on the floor. His hands then went to pull his shirt out of his pants and then to the top button starting to undo the buttons on his shirt,

“Should we have music on?” you chuckled.

Rafael raised and eye brow and stopped undoing his buttons,

“Hermosa I’ am an ADA not a striper” he scoffed “I can sto-“

“No” you almost yelled and he grinned “Sorry officer Barba continue”

“Good girl” Rafael continued to undo his shirt buttons till all the buttons were undone and his shirt fell open to his bare chest and you gasped, his chest one of your favourite parts of his body.

Rafael kissed your cheek as he shrugged off his shirt and then moved to undo the pants buttons and zipper pushing them and his boxers down, his hard cock shinning with pre cum standing tall ready to be inside of you. Rafael stepped right to you reaching behind you to grab your wrists wrapping his fingers around them. His lips crashing of yours kissing you deeply.

“If I keep being a good girl, think you can get the chargers dropped” you purred rubbing your nose over his.

“Let me fuck and I’ll make sure all this goes away” you nodded back “On the bed on your tummy”

You turned and walked to the bed getting onto it laying on your belly. You felt the bed dip near your feet and you gasped when you felt Rafael’s body heat and his lips landing on your skin as he made his way up your body trailing kisses as he went along. He got up near your middle straddling your back. Rafael hooked the chain of the cuffs over the bar at the head of the bed, then he grabbed one of your wrists bringing it up to cuff it and the done the same with the other, your top half arched up off the bed. 

Rafael kissed your neck and then your shoulder rubbing his big hands all over your skin before he moved off you and settled between your legs after he spread them wider. Rafael’s hand gripped onto your hips and pulled you up onto your knees, which gave you a better position to grip the bar with your hands.

You felt Rafael running his long hard cock along your opening before he pulled back slightly and thrusted up into you and your head dropped down your moans bouncing off the walls. Rafael’s started to pound into you with deep hard thrusts and his balls hitting against you.

One of Rafael’s hands slid up to the middle of your back pushing you down more, his other hand snaking around to circle your clit with his pointer finger as you started to push back into him hard, you both chasing your release.

Grunts, groans and skin slapping skin surrounded the room and you could feel how close it was to your coil snapping. Your body started to cover in sweat, as did Rafael’s. Your knuckles were white grabbing onto the head board,

“Don’t hold back mi Amor let everyone know how good your husband to be fucks you- How I’ am going to fuck you the rest of your life”

That’s all it took, you screamed Rafael’s name, you were sure the front desk would hear you. Your whole body was shaking and your mouth was wide open as Rafael keep thrusting into you, till you were brought back down from your high by his deep chesty roar as he came deep inside you, his seed painting your inner walls.

You were both breathless as Rafael pulled out and jumped up quickly grabbing the keys from his pants pockets and coming over to you unlocking the cuffs and you pushed yourself up resting back on your hunches. Rafael sat in front of you and grabbed your wrists turning them over to see if there was any red marks, lifting them both up to his lips kissing them both. Rafael then jumped up again walking over to your sash picking it up and putting it back on your naked body and he lent forward again kissing you deeply, one of his hands cupping your cheek,

“Had a good night my love?” Rafael rested his forehead on yours.

“I did, thank you so much Rafi” you peaked his lips.

“My last name looks good on you, two weeks and it will be yours” he grinned.

“Two weeks can’t go fast enough.”            

Tags: @detective-giggles @beccabarba  @witches-unruly-heart @dianilaws @scarletsoldierrr @lv7867  @permanentlydizzy @averyhotchner @infiniteoddball @fandom-princess-forevermore @madamsnape921 @annabelleb49 @alwaysachorusgirl @thatesqcrush @yourdearest-love

[albertasunrise]

Coffee and Crisis - Chapter 2

Summary: Marcus has been pretty unlucky in love. With a failed Marriage and engagement under his belt, will his luck finally change when he meets a pretty, young English girl in his favourite cafe?

Warning/Content: Angst, Blood and Injury, Smut 18+

Paring: Marcus Pike/ Original Female Character

§

He woke up alone. The clean, clinical smell of a hospital assaulting his senses as he blinked a few times in an attempt to clear his mind a little. His eyes scanned his surroundings. He was in a private room. The door across from him had a clock hung above it that ticked obnoxiously loud despite the constant beep of the heart monitor beside him. There was a window to his left. The view little more than the familiar skyscrapers that occupied his day to day life. His mind wandered to Ada then and where she was… How she was. He shifted slightly in his bed and immediately regretted it, letting out a pained yell as a white-hot agony tore through his middle, rendering him limp in his uncomfortable hospital bed. A nurse sprinted into the room with a familiar face behind her, one that seemed to suck all of the air from his lungs. She was at his side in a heartbeat, taking his face in her hands as she checked him over whilst the nurse spoke words he couldn't hear.

‘Marcus?’ Her voice pulled him out of his reverie, blinking at her a few times before nodding ‘Are you in pain?’

He nodded again. His words escaped him as he stared into her green orbs, captivated by her gaze as she stroked circled on his cheek with her thumb. He knew the nurse must have done something as the pain started to ease but he couldn’t tear his eyes away from Ada any more than she could tear hers away from him.

‘I’ll leave you two to catch up.’ Said the nurse with a smile.

Ada let herself sit in the chair behind her, keeping Marcus’ hand in hers as she smiled up at him. A silence hung over them for a while as the duo carefully constructed what they were going to say to each other, the words dancing on their tongues as they formed on their lips.

‘How are you?’ Asked Marcus suddenly, taking Ada by surprise.

‘I should be asking you that.’ She chuckled, giving his hand a squeeze ‘You scared the crap out of me.’ She finished, the smile falling from her face as the memories of that day flooded back ‘I thought I was going to lose you. You’d lost so much blood and they wouldn’t let me…’

‘Shhh.’ He hushed, squeezing her hand and giving her a sweet smile ‘I’m okay. I’m right here.’

Ada smiled back at him but her heart still raced in her chest, the images assaulting her mind making her breathing quicken.

~

‘Marcus?’ She sobbed, shaking his shoulder lightly in an attempt to wake him ‘No... Stay with me.’

‘He dead?’ asked one of the masked men, kicking the agent’s leg with his heavy boot.

‘He needs a hospital now!’ She growled, looking at the man with a venomous expression ‘Please!! Let him go or he’s going to die.’

‘Now why would I let my leverage go.’ He chuckled, tilting his head to one side as he spoke ‘You best do all you can to stop him from clocking out before their time’s up.’

‘I’m a nurse!.’ Came a voice suddenly, pulling everyone’s attention to a woman in the corner ‘I can help him.’

‘Fine.’ Spat the man, motioning her to move with the barrel of his gun ‘But everyone else stays where they are!.’

The nurse quickly made her way to the duo’s side, taking in the state of the agent and sucking in a breath through barred teeth.

‘He’s lost a lot of blood.’ She stated, giving Ada a pained expression ‘Help me lay him down.’

The two women carefully adjusted the man’s position so he was laying down, the nurse removing her coat and rolling it up so she could place it under his head. She placed two shaky fingers on Marcus’ neck, her eyes travelling up to Ada who was watching her carefully.

‘His pulse is very weak.’ She stated, her face grim as her eyes drifted to the windows ‘They need to hurry up or he’s not going to make it much longer.’ She stated.

The phone started to ring then, making everyone just from their skin as the ringleader forcefully picked up the phone and answered it. Ada had zoned out due to the nurse's statement, her eyes fixed on Marcus whose skin had taken on a scary shade of white.

‘We will exit from the rear of the building.’ The man ordered, motioning for his companions to make their way to the back of the cafe ‘Once we’ve left you can come in and rescue the hostages.’ He finished, slamming the phone down on the counter and looking down at Ada ‘Look’s like they came through for your boyfriend after all.’

Then he was gone and the cafe became a flurry of activity. EMT’s dropped to her side as police worked on removing the hostages from the cafe safely. The nurse who had helped her started firing off some medical jargon that Ada didn’t understand. All she could do was watch as they tried to stabilise him, hooking him up to machines as a gurney was lined up beside him. Suddenly an alarm started blaring and Ada’s stomach dropped.

'What's happening?' She screamed, her stomach twisting in knots.

‘He’s crashing.’ said one EMT as the other grabbed a familiar-looking machine.

One cut away his clothes as the other pulled out the paddles and placed them onto his now bare chest, his body arching as they shocked him.

‘Nothing.’ one stated as he placed a mask over his nose and mouth and pumped the bag attached to it a few times.

Pulling away, the other medic shocked him again. The sight of Marcus’ body arching like that making Ada feel sick and she sobbed openly as she silently willed him to come back to her. Finally, the alarm changed its tune and they all breathed a sigh of relief, quickly manoeuvring him onto the gurney and pushing him out of the cafe to the waiting ambulance. They said nothing about Ada jumping in after him, sitting her on a seat to one side as one jumped in the cab and the other continued to pump air into the agent. This was not how Ada had expected to spend her day but she knew she’d couldn’t leave him. She couldn’t lose him.

~

‘You’re thinking about it.’ He accused, giving her hand a slight tug to bring her back to awareness.

‘Sorry, it’s just…’ Her tongue felt heaving in her mouth as she let her eyes lock with his, his brown orbs glittering in the artificial light ‘You died in front of me.’ She stated ‘I had to watch them shock you twice, it was horrible.’

‘Hey, I’m okay now.’ He replied.

‘Yeah but you weren’t.’ She snapped, instantly regretting her tone ‘When they finally let me see you again you had a tube down your throat breathing for you and they’d said you were in a coma. I was told that you’d suffered a lot of trauma and that it was going to be touch and go.’ She paused to take in a shaky breath ‘When they finally took you off the vent I sat and waited for you to wake up but you wouldn’t, no matter how much I talked your ear off. I thought I was going to lose you and it killed me.’

‘How long have I been here?’ He asked suddenly as he processed what she was telling him.

‘3 weeks.’ She replied, wiping her tears away with her free hand ‘You’ve been in a coma for 3 weeks.’ She sobbed then, looking around the room a little panicked ‘And you woke up alone.’

She balled at her statement, throwing her face into her hands as great sobs racked her body. Marcus watched her in shock a moment as he processed what she’d just said before letting his hand settle on her head, stroking her hair with his fingers and waited for her to let it all out.

‘Hey.’ He said finally, carding his digits through her hair ‘It’s going to be okay now okay.’

§

Marcus was discharged a few days later and Ada had made it her mission to care for him, sleeping on his couch and working from his lounge as well a caring for him. After a few more weeks he was cleared to go back to work but was limited to desk work until, something that had relieved Ada. Much to both their distaste she eventually went back home. She was glad of her office again, falling back into her old routine with ease but she found herself missing Marcus terribly. At night she was plagued with nightmares of his bloody form. His blood on her hands. She’d wake in a cold sweat, chest heaving and she would sob until she finally felt exhaustion get the better of her. She was working away when her phone buzzed on the tabletop making her leap out her skin. Picking it up she smiled when she saw Marcus’ name flashing on the screens.

‘To what do I owe this pleasure?’ She asked, grinning down the phone as she spoke.

‘Well, I wondered if you were free this evening’ He replied, his tone making her heart flutter.

‘I think I have some time.’

‘Well, I wondered if perhaps you would like to come for dinner this evening. I would love to cook for you as a thank you for everything.’

‘Marcus you don’t need to thank me.’ She replied, her voice wobbling a little.

‘No, but I want to.’ He replied ‘Shall we say 7?’

‘Sounds perfect. See you then.” She hung up and a large grin spread across her face ‘Shit what do I wear?’ she asked out loud, glancing at the time on her laptop. Only 4 hours to decide.

§

‘So where did you learn to cook like that?’ Ada asked as she sipped on her red wine, eyes fixed on Marcus as he smiled back at her.

‘My mum.’ he replied, collecting up the dishes and taking them over to the sink ‘She loved to cook and I loved to help her.’

‘I bet that your past girlfriends loved that.’ She joked, taking another sip.

‘Certainly helped.’ he replied with a chuckle, making his way back to the table and sitting down again ‘Thank you for taking care of me.’ He then said, changing the subject as he looked at her with a different expression ‘Not many girls would sleep on the couch of a man they’ve just met and nurse him back to health. You’re pretty amazing.’ He finished as he placed his large hand over hers.

‘So are you.’ She replied sweetly, her cheeks flushing at her statement.

‘Shall we go sit on the couch?’ He asked, motioning over his shoulder with his head but his gaze not leaving hers.

‘Yeah.’

Placing their glasses and the bottle down on the coffee table, they both sat, an awkward silence settling over them for a moment as neither one knew what to say. Ada felt a heat start to bloom in her belly as she looked him over. He wore a smart pair of jeans and a burnt orange shirt that complemented his golden skin tone perfectly and accentuated his muscular arms. She licked her lips at the sight. She wanted to kiss him, to feel his strong arms around her as she kissed and licked his neck and jaw. She wanted him. Scooting closer to him, they shared a heated stare. Marcus’ hand balled at his side as he fought the urge to pounce, unsure what Ada wanted but he didn’t have long to wait. She captured his lips in a heated kiss, fingers carding through his hair as her tongue traced the seam of his lips and moaning when he allowed her entry. His hands snaked around her waist, pulling her so that she was straddling his hips and his hands travelling up her shirt, leaving her breathless from the contact. Shaky fingers started to work at the buttons on his shirt as she kissed him hungrily, moaning in his mouth as his strong hands grabbed her ass and guided her hips as she started to grind against his growing arousal.

‘Are you sure?’ He breathed against her lips as he pulled away for a moment.

She just nodded, pulling open his shirt and over his shoulders, running her hands down his toned chest. He angled his hips a little giving her the delicious friction that she was craving and she could already feel herself edging towards her climax. Her jeans were unfastened in a heartbeat and his hand was cupping her sex, fingers toying with her entrance as he placed open mouth kisses down her neck.

‘Shit.’ She breathed as he pushed one thick finger into her heat, grinning against her skin at her reaction.

He planted his free hand on her back and flipped her onto her back, pushing a second digit in to join the other as he nibbled and licked her skin. When he curled his fingers and hit that spot she fell over the edge, back arching as she climaxed loudly. Her moans only made him more aroused and he quickly yanked down her jeans, taking her underwear with them.

‘Marcus I need you now.’ She breathed, pulling him close and devouring his lips.

He lined himself, teasing her a little before finally giving in to her begging and pushing in slow. She gasped a little as he stretched her out, the pain making her wince and Marcus pulled back a moment as his brow furrowed in concern.

‘Does it hurt?’

‘Just keep going.’ she breathed, hands grabbing his ass and urging him to move.

He did as he was told and filled her to the hilt, moaning at the tightness before placing soft kisses along her jaw. He stayed still for a moment, allowing her to adjust to his size before he started to rock his hips back and forth. His place started slowly as they shared sloppy kisses, Ada’s nails digging into the muscle of his back as he continuously hit that spot within that drove her closer and closer again. When she began begging him to move faster his upped his speed, knuckles going white as he gripped the arm of the couch for support. Ada’s second orgasm was intense, her whole body convulsed as he fucked her through it, praising her as she came down from her high. His own peak was not far behind and his hips stilled as he finished, kissing her sweetly as they panted in each other's arms.

‘We’re definitely doing that again this evening.’ She panted as she kissed his sweat-slick skin.

‘Definitely.’ he replied with a smile, killing her nose ‘But first… Desert!’

[panda-noosh]

the other brothers wedding {finn shelby x reader}

Words: 8.4k

Summary: All Finn needs is a date to Tommy’s wedding.

Warnings: swearing, gets kinda steamy

Genre: fluff (??)

Notes: support my writing or ask me about commissions!

----

 “You’re lonely, Finn. There’s no point denying it. I can see it in your eyes.”

  The room swallows the words. Absorbs them into the wallpaper. Locks them in for good, so Finn will no longer be able to step foot in the office without remembering this very moment and the way Polly is looking at him now.

  All he wanted to do was ask her who had eaten the sandwich he’d left in the fridge. He and Isaiah were planning on getting a few drinks, but it was an unwritten rule between the boys to not drink on an empty stomach.

  But Polly had caught him before he got that far, as she often does.

  He stands in the doorway, staring at his aunt with what he hopes is a look of confusion, just enough to hide the tiny spasm of panic erupting in his chest.

  “You really are a witch, aren’t you, Pol?” he says, putting that tiny smile on his face to hide the truth.

  Polly takes a puff of her pipe, blows the smoke directly into Finn’s face. “I spoke to Tommy about you. He’s worried. He’s going to get you a whore to bring to his wedding if you don’t hurry the fuck up.”

  “He’s gonna get me a whore? That’s nice of him.”

  “You and I both know he’s not doing it for your benefit.”

  Finn purses his lips and looks away. “Tommy can do whatever the fuck he wants. He’s never taken an interest in me anyway.”

  “I wouldn’t take it personally, son,” says Polly. “He doesn’t care about anyone but himself - himself, and the family image.”

  Finn looks up. “What?”

  “He may not give a shit about your feelings, but you walking into his wedding without someone on your arm is going to make people ask questions - questions Tommy won’t want to deal with. So, the bottom line is, you get someone for yourself, or he’ll do it for you, and he won’t take into consideration a single STD you might get from whoever he hires.”

  Finn scoffs.

  “I’m being serious, Finn,” Polly deadpans. “I’m warning you now, for your own sake. Get someone you know is safe and willing, and you’ll be alright.” She raises a brow. “Just for one night. You don’t even have to fuck them if you don’t want to.”

  “Why are you telling me all this?” Finn asks, because he genuinely wants to know. Polly has gone off the rails these past few years, distanced herself from the family more and more in her attempts to spend more time with her son. She’s also spent a good chunk of Finn’s teenage years trying to ‘find herself’ amongst spirits and other bat-shit crazy things that Finn wants nothing to do with.

  Why she is here right now, giving Finn directions on how to see himself through to the end of this wedding safely is a complete mystery.

  Finn isn’t sure he trusts it.

  Polly takes another puff of her cigarette and turns, facing the window. The velvet curtains match her burgundy dress, a shadow of her slim frame crawling up the wall to her left.

  She really does look like a witch.

  “I just think Tommy’s getting a bit too comfortable, that’s all,” she replies in that way of hers. “He’s tainted Arthur and John. Ada wants nothing to do with him half the time. I’d hate to see you go down the same path.”

   Finn doesn’t know how to respond; in truth, he’s never truly felt like part of the family. He’s got the Shelby name, and he’s part of the Peaky Blinders, but it’s more through association than anything else. Tommy has never looked at him as a true member, has never given him tasks he would give the other Blinders. Finn likes to tell himself it’s because his older brother is protective of him, doesn’t want to see him get hurt - but in truth, it’s most likely more so due to the fact that Finn isn’t the most skilled Shelby boy when it comes to anything pertaining to that kind of thing; he can barely shoot a gun, for gods sake. He wasn’t in the war. His Dad left long before he could ever teach Finn the basics, and his brothers have always been too busy to show him themselves.

  Finn is the throw-away piece.

  Finn swallows and looks to the ground. “I’ll - uh - have a look around for anyone interesting. Thanks for warning me, Pol.”

  Polly nods. The messy bun atop her head slumps forward, but she does nothing to fix it. ”Anytime, Finn. And pick a good one, too. Really show Tommy up tonight, yeah?”

  Finn nods. Polly can’t see him, but he does not correct his gesture. Instead, he turns on his heel and heads out, feeling a little bit sick.

  ---

  The news on the front page today is yet another bomb.

  It’s a petrol bomb this time - you suppose the culprits are mixing things up this time around, or maybe actual explosives were getting a little too tiresome to lug around Birmingham.

  “This isn’t the pub your brothers own, is it?” you ask, tilting the newspaper a little bit.

  Ada looks up from the pile of books she’s looking through and shakes her head. “No. Too big.”

  “Good.”  

  “Debatable.”

  You fold the newspaper over and stamp it, placing it back in the newspaper rack to your side. Another day doing overtime in the office because Ada needs help finishing up her work before she has to pick Carl up from the babysitters - she’s been stressed out recently, meaning she’s been getting to work later and later, and you’re the only person in the office willing to help her catch up before her time runs out and Carl is left stranded.

  “Do you ever plan on making amends with your family?” you ask.

  Ada scoffs as if the mere suggestion is beyond her wildest imagination.

  You raise a brow. “What about that younger one? Finn. He can’t be too bad. He’s my age, is he not?”

  “What does that have to do with anything?”

  “Well.” You lean back, lacing your fingers behind your head. “I’m only young - I haven’t really had time to fuck up my life as much as your other brothers seem to have done.”

  “Finn has messed up plenty of times.”

  You tilt your head to the side. Ada glances at you, rolls her eyes and says, “Okay, so Finn isn’t all that bad. Is that you wanted to hear?”

  You grin, spin round in your chair and pluck another newspaper off the newspaper rack. You get back to work without a word, which Ada seems most content with.

  The silence does not last forever, though, as the staircase to your left creaks; Ada is the first on the scene, craning her neck and saying, “Sorry, love, we’re closed,” but you catch the tiny lick of hesitation at the end of her sentence, the way her expression drops on the last word.

  You crane your own neck. “Who is it?”

  “What the fuck are you doing here? Who dropped you off?”

  “No one.” The voice is familiar, one you’ve only heard in tiny murmurs on the other end of phone calls Ada used to take all the time.

  And then he appears in the doorway.

  Tall, dressed in a brown suit that hugs his lean frame quite well, you’re embarrassed to admit. His hair is shaved round the sides, just like every Shelby boy you’ve ever known, and his smile is full of innocence, unlike every Shelby boy you’ve ever known.

  Ada groans, turning back to her pile of books as you stare at Finn Shelby with your mouth slightly open; he’s got his eyes planted firmly on his sister, and you’re almost certain he hasn’t seen you yet.

  “Aren’t you happy to see me?” he asks. “You’ve been in hiding for god knows how long.”

  “And there’s a reason for that,” Ada shoots back. “A reason you’re damn well aware of, so why the fuck are you here?”

  “Nothing catastrophic.” Finn pulls a chair out from beneath Ada’s desk and sits down, crossing his legs. “I’m here for some actual big sister help.”

  Ada raises a brow. “Unlike you.”

  “Polly’s let me know that I need to bring someone to Tommy’s wedding or else he’s getting me a whore.”

  You cover your mouth, stifling your giggle; you aren’t sure why, but you don’t really want to make a noise lest Finn hear you. At the minute, you’re perfectly fine with being the bystander, hidden away in the corner.

  Ada takes a moment to respond. She’s got her stamp in her hand, the book open to the correct page, but she makes no move to finish her task. She just stares at the book for a little while, until Finn leans over and clicks his fingers in front of her eyes.

  She flinches away. “You’re being serious.”

  “Look, don’t make this a big deal,” he says. “It’s just for one night, and I know you’ve got all them friends - normal people.”

  “I can’t believe you actually think I’d let one of my good friends waltz into an event hosted by Thomas fucking Shelby. They’ll be dead by the end of the night.”

  “They’ll be with me,” Finn corrects. “And Tommy’s already promised this is going to be a quiet night - it’s not like him and Grace. This is purely a wedding for circumstance.”

   “Tommy promises an awful lot of things.”

  “Please, Ada. I never ask you for fuck all.”

  Ada rolls her eyes. “Now you’re gonna guilt trip me?”

  “I would never do that to you.” He leans forward, and you almost swear you see him bat his eyelashes.

  Ada pushes him away, two fingers pressed to his forehead. “You’re a pain in the ass, Finn Shelby. I wonder where you get it from.”

  Finn smirks, and something in your stomach stirs. “I think we all have a bit of that to take the blame for.”

  Ada sighs, stamps her book and nods in your direction.

  Finn spins around, eyes widening when he realises you’ve been sat there the entire time. You give a small smile, timidly waving.

  “Y/N’s single,” Ada says.

  Your eyes snap up. “You what?”

  “Are you?” Finn asks, suddenly seeming much more lively. His fingers have tightened on the arm rests of his chair, and he’s straightened up significantly, really accentuating his lean torso.

  You still haven’t entirely processed what Ada means.

  “They are,” she replies when you fail to do so. “I don’t think you’ve been out with anyone in ages, Y/N, have you?”

  “I - uh - that’s none of your fucking business.”

  “Well, this is perfect.” Finn stands up and grabs your hand, surprising you by pressing a kiss to your knuckles. His cheeks are flushed a bright red colour, and you’re almost certain this isn’t the kind of thing he does all the time - he’s been playing off some kind of script, or some older source has been telling him what to do or say to win you over. Either way, he looks most unnatural in this state, and you can’t help the tiny laugh that escapes your throat.

  “Is this for real?” you ask. “Are you asking me to go to your brothers wedding with you? We don’t even know each other!”

  “We don’t have to know each other. It’s not that serious,” Finn replies. “Tommy will probably know you’re not my real partner, so he won’t give a shit. We’re just there to make appearances - nothing more.”

  “Finn being on his own will be a right embarrassment to the family,” Ada adds over Finn’s shoulder. “Thank fuck I’m a widow.”

  You flick your eyes between the two Shelby’s; no matter how much Ada tries to distance herself from them, you can see the clear resemblance, both in personality and appearance. Finn is staring at you with a hopeful smile, and he has the exact same eyes as her, a tiny dimple in his chin, eyebrows that look like they should constantly be arched in anger but are not.

  “I don’t even know who you are,” you mumble.

  Finn’s smile wavers. “Come for a drink with me, then.”

  Your heart jumps. “What?”

  “We’ll go for a drink together,” he repeats. “I’ll let you meet my mate, Isaiah. If we run into Tommy, or Arthur, I can just tell them I’ve been seeing you for a while, I’m taking you on a tour of the town-”

  “So I’ll just have to pretend to be in love with you?”

  Finn grins. “Exactly.”

  “You’re saying that like it’s easy.”

  “Oh, Finn is very easy to love,” Ada chimes in. Finn blushes at her words, but keeps his eyes on you. “Probably the easiest out of all of us. Go on, Y/N. Give the kid a break.”

  You look back at Finn, noting that hopeful spark in his eyes, so like his sisters. You’ve never been able to resist Ada when she looks at you like that.

  And apparently Finn is the same.

  You sigh, slapping his cheek with a rolled-up newspaper. “Fine. But you’re paying for the booze. I’m sure being a mob boss pays a lot better than working in a book shop.”

   ----

   Finn isn’t sure how to do this.

  He knows it’s only fake. This is something he constantly reminds himself as he walks into the Garrison, you trailing close behind him - none of this is real. After Tommy’s wedding, it will all be over and he won’t ever have to put himself through this anxiety again.

  But he can’t quite figure out why he’s even anxious in the first place.

  He sees Isaiah first, seated at the bar, talking away to the girl behind it. A whiskey glass sits empty in front of him, and Finn says a silent prayer that his good friend isn’t drunk yet.

  He turns, glances at you. You’re casting your eyes along the surprisingly well-kept pub, hands stuffed in your pockets, shoulders drawn a little too far up for Finn to be convinced you’re relaxed. It’s complete chivalry when he reaches over and places a hand on your elbow, his attempts at soothing you when he knows his words won’t do the trick.

  You look at him. “Your family owns this place?”

  “Yeah.”

  You nod as if you understand. Finn knows you don’t. Nobody will ever really understand just how far the Shelby’s have managed to leave their mark. Small Heath doesn’t even scratch the surface.

  Finn leads you to the bar and pulls your stool out for you. You sit down next to Isaiah with a grateful smile, and it is only then that Finn taps his best friends shoulder and grabs his attention.

  Isaiah spins around, eyes widening when he sees Finn standing over him. “That twas awfully fucking quick. Do you know how long I’ve been sat here waiting for you, mate? I downed your whiskey.”

  “I don’t care,” Finn replies, before motioning to you. “Isaiah, this is Y/N. The person I’m taking to Tommy’s wedding.”

  Isaiah blinks. It’s not a drunken blink, not the ones Finn is used to seeing from his best mate. This is a blink of genuine confusion, slow and deliberate as he trails his eyes along your form.

  You offer an awkward wave, and Finn jumps in before Isaiah can pick up on how uncomfortable you are.

  “I thought I should introduce you before the big day. There’s gonna be so much happening that day, anyway - don’t wanna add anything else to the list, you know.”

  “Man, what the fuck are you on about?” Isaiah thrusts a hand in your direction. “Hello, love. I’m Isaiah. I didn’t realise Finny-Boy was getting any action.”

  “Plenty of action,” you mumble in response, and Finn pretends to cough in his attempts to hide his laughter.

  Isaiah shakes his head, leaning back against the bar. “This is bloody surreal, I’ll tell you that much. I was starting to think our Finn had no bollocks or something and that was why he refused to talk about the sex.”

  You raise a brow, glancing at Finn. “The sex?”

  “Shagging. A good ol-’”

  Finn slaps the back of Isaiah’s head. “Alright, Y/N, what are you drinking?”

  You perk up. “I’ll have whatever you’re having.”

  Finn raises a brow. “I don’t know… I’m on the pretty strong stuff.”

  You nod. “I’ll have what you’re having.”

  And Finn has to admit he’s impressed when he orders you a whiskey - all on it’s own - and you down it in the space of ten seconds, barely even wincing. You order a second one, and the conversation goes from there.

  Finn has to watch you. He can’t help it; he knows he’s hit the jackpot. Ada has plenty of friends, but most of them are hardcore Christians who wouldn’t even think of pecking him on the cheek if he asked them to. Either that, or very elderly women, and Finn might have been desperate earlier, but he isn’t sure he’d have agreed if Ada offered him one of her old librarian friends.

  It was a miracle, really, that you were sat behind that desk, had heard every drop of conversation, had agreed to come with him, and now here you are, playing the part of his partner in a way that nearly has him wishing this wasn’t just a temporary thing.

  At one point, with Finn standing beside your chair, you wrap your arm around his middle and use your other hand to absently mess with the tails of his shirt. You’re still chatting idly away with Isaiah, but at the feel of your nails scratching lightly against the fabric of his shirt, sending goosebumps to race along his skin, Finn can’t drag himself back into the conversation. He wraps an arm around your shoulders, nods along like he’s paying attention.

  And then someone claps him on the shoulder.

  Finn jumps, nearly spilling his drink over you in the process. Spinning around, he comes face-to-face with Arthur, his oldest brother and biggest pain in the ass. Ever since John died, Arthur has taken it upon himself to be the reckless, annoying brother in the family - only he does it with the added fuel of cocaine.

  His grin is clear beneath his moustache. “And what is this?”

  Your arm drops back to your side. “Hello.” You glance up at Finn. “Who’s this?”

  Finn speaks through gritted teeth. “This is my brother, Arthur. Arthur, this Y/N - my date to Tommy’s wedding.”

  Arthur pauses. Finn can see his thoughts racing, fuelled by the drugs and the alcohol and the adrenaline the mix of two can bring.

   And then he smiles, so wide and daunting that Finn very nearly grabs your hand and declares he’s off to bed for the night.

  “Well, isn’t that fucking lovely?” Arthur hollers. “How many STD’s has this one got, then?”

  Your eyes widen. You open your mouth to say something back, but Isaiah stumbles in before you get a chance.

  “Nah, mate, Y/N’s sound! An actual, working individual, as far as I’ve picked up. Hasn’t even got the clap.”

  Arthur’s eyes widen. “Serious? You’re doing all this for free?”

  You swallow. Finn watches your throat bob, reaches down and pinches your shoulder - his way of letting you know that this moment will pass, that Arthur won’t be here for good, you’ll be okay.

  He turns back to his older brother. “Where’s Tommy?”

  “Out doing god knows what.” Arthur tosses himself onto the stool next to you, orders a whiskey before turning back to Finn. “Honestly, mate, he hasn’t been on a night out in fucking ages. I think Lizzy’s got his balls hung up on the key holder by the front door.”

  Isaiah snickers. Even you crack a smile, so Finn lets himself chuckle along.

  “I hope this one doesn’t do the same with you,” Arthur continues, nodding in your direction.

  Finn opens his mouth, ready to defend your honour or whatever, but you beat him to it. Raising your glass, you say, “Finn is allowed to go on as many nights out as he pleases - as long as he doesn’t mind me doing the same.” And then you down the remainder of your whiskey.

  Isaiah hoots, slapping you on the back like you’re one of the boys, fitting so easily in the group. Arthur just stares at you, a look of mild admiration on his face that Finn has not seen in an awfully long time. Not since John died. Not since the world got so dark it was almost not worth trying to see the light.

  It makes his stomach curl, a feeling of warmth mixing with that feeling he really isn’t used to.

  Arthur glances at him and smiles. Finn smiles back, slowly placing his hand on your shoulder.

   ---

  “I don’t think Tommy is going to like me very much.”

  There. You’ve said it - you’ve spoken the truth, the one fear that has been swirling around your brain for the past three days you’ve been in Small Heath.

  Finn glances at you in the mirror, too busy fiddling with his tie to pay you too much attention, though you don’t miss the small smile that plays on his face.

  You sit on the bed behind him, messing with the cuffs of your sleeves; you’ve been dressed and ready to go since the early hours of the morning, having been far too nervous to just sit around and wait for the time to draw nearer. But now it’s here, and you’re beginning to regret this little arrangement.

  “I’m not exactly a Polly Gray,” you continue. “I work with Ada, for fucks sake. How am I meant to impress him?”

  “You don’t need to impress him,” Finn replies, because it’s easy for him to say that, easy for him to believe that when he is one of the lucky few who have had a part of Tommy’s respect from the moment they were born.

  You sigh, slumping back against the headboard. “What kinds of things would he like to talk about?”

  “Fuck if I know.”

  “He’s your brother.”

  “He’s a businessman.” Finn frowns at his reflection, undoing his tie for the nineteenth time.

  You roll your eyes and make your way towards him. He doesn’t notice your presence until your centimetres away from him, and you’re not really sure what comes over you when you reach around him and start fixing the tie for him.

  His muscles tense against you, and one glance at his reflection reveals the fresh pink hue added to his pale cheeks; your own face is heating up considerably, and it’s with an awkward stumble that you back away from him once the tie is done up.

   He swallows. You can see his Adams apple bobbing.

  He turns then, giving you a small smile. “Thanks. I’m shit at formal wear.”

  “I find that hard to believe considering you live in a suit.”

  He scowls. “Nothing like this. I don’t know what Tommy was thinking setting this as the dress code.”

  You grin. “Are the Shelby brothers gonna be wearing matching suits?”

  Finn glares.  

  You laugh, nudging his shoulder. “Kidding. Unless you are, in which case - that is very adorable, and I look forward to seeing it.”

  ---

  Even though Tommy Shelby has not been in love with anyone since dear old Grace, he has certainly gone all out for his necessary wedding.

  You don’t recall ever stepping foot inside such a nice building. Much too large, far too roomy, but pleasant nonetheless. Tinkling music rings softly through the spacious halls, and pictures are hung up along every wall, a mural of Tommy, his son and daughter and his soon-to-be-wife greeting you as soon as you step through the oversized mahogany doors.

  Your breath leaves you in a single swoop, and Finn must hear you because he immediately grabs your arm and loops it through his own, guiding you through the house.

  “Is this Tommy’s fucking house?” you hiss under your breath.

  Finn smiles, giving Alfie Solomons a smile as the two glide past each other. “Did I not mention he’s got a shit ton of money?”

  “I kind of picked up on that, but this is… a bit overkill.”

  Finn snickers. “Keep your voice down. It’s his special day, after all.”

  And so the two of you walk through Thomas Shelby’s mansion, nodding and greeting people you have no affiliation with, people you will never see again, all whilst trying to keep up the image that you and Finn are very much in love, have been in love for a while.

  At some point, an elderly woman asks when the two of you plan on getting married. Finn, always the gentleman, replied with, “When there’s a baby on the way.”

  You glare at him even now as he continues to snicker at his own humour. “It really wasn’t that funny,” you say. He simply winks in response.

  You spend the evening clinging to his arm. You’re good at small talk, and nobody seems to have much of an interest in you nor Finn, so it’s easy enough to breeze through the crowd without earning too much attention.

  However, these people are still Finn’s family, people he knows, people who have seen him grow up. It isn’t long before an elderly woman has grabbed his arm and dragged him away from you for a ‘quick catch up drink,’ an event you’re clearly not invited to.

  You’re left entirely on your own in a room full of people who associate themselves with the Shelby’s.

  Your safe place is the bar. You trudge through the thick crowd of excited party-goers, keeping your head down lest people lock eyes with you and try for conversation; you’ve never been a particularly antisocial person, but you’ve never dealt with the Shelby’s before, either - not unless you count Ada, and never before have you heard her state her last name as ‘Shelby.’

  You approach the bar and order a drink - a whiskey, because you desperately need something to get your mind off what is actually happening. Now that Finn isn’t here to distract you, you’re feeling the full heaviness of this situation.

  Pretending you’re in love with someone? It seems so bizarre, almost embarrassing. You barely know Finn, have only heard short tales and brief descriptions from his older sister, and yet here you are, hanging off his arm, laughing and smiling, listening to people talk about marriage that just makes your stomach turn to liquid because goodness gracious what would married life with Finn Shelby actually be like?

  You down your whiskey.

  “Slow down there.”

  The voice is cool, smooth, recognisable even if you’ve never heard it before. Only recognisable because everyone in Birmingham has heard of the man who owns it, heard his life, his story, the lengths he will go to to get what he wants.

  Slowly you turn in your seat. There he stands, the groom, the infamous Thomas Shelby, dressed in a suit that nearly makes you gasp with how expensive it looks, all gold chains and thick fabric. He’s gone all out for his special day, yet despite the effort put into his outfit, he is putting no effort into arranging his features to look even remotely pleased to be here.

  “You must be Y/N,” he says. “I’m Tommy.”

  “Tommy,” you repeat, even though that wasn’t what you were supposed to say. “Uh - Congratulations on the big day. Where’s the wife?”

  He sits down and faces the bartender, ignoring your question. “A whiskey, please.”

  You purse your lips, slowly turning back to the bar. Your glass is empty, your head spinning, your anxiety skyrocketing; what do you even to say to someone like Thomas Shelby, someone who has been through hell and still managed to crawl out the other side being even more successful than when he walked in?

  “Finn’s told me nothing about you,” he says.

  “Oh.”

  “Are you in love?”

  It’s such an abrupt question, and even though you’ve been telling people all evening that you and Finn are head-over-heels for each other, you can’t bring yourself to lie to him.

  He glances at you through the corner of his eye, purses his lips at your silence and says, “Don’t worry. I understand.”

  “He’s a good kid,” you hastily reply.

  “Better than the rest of us.” He sips his whiskey, slow and mysterious for absolutely no reason, but it unsettles you anyway. “You work with Ada, don’t you?”

  “Yes.”

  “How is my little sister getting on?”

 “Good. She’s good. So is Carl.”

  Tommy nods. “Good.”

  You look away. “You’re not mad that I’m here, are you?”

  “Why would I be mad?”

 “Well… You don’t really know me.”

  “You’re here with Finn.”

  “Technically…”

  Tommy shoots you a glance, one eyebrow raised. “If I’m being honest, Y/N, the fact that you’re helping my brother out at all is enough to be put in my good books.”

  And for just a moment you think you’ve misheard him. You turn, scanning his face for any flicker of humour, any sign that he’s just leading you into a false sense of hope right now - you wouldn’t even be surprised.

  “I was watching you both when you walked in,” Tommy continues. “You must have said something funny, because I’ve never seen our Finn smile like that.”

  Your face heats up. “I don’t… We get along really well. It’s easy to make jokes with him.”

  Tommy nods. Says nothing, and it drives you insane, because you want to hear exactly what he’s thinking. You want him to stop this mysterious bullshit he seems to think he needs to keep up, because all it is is a waste of time, especially considering you’ll never see him again after tonight.

  You lean forward, trying to catch his eye, but he keeps his gaze on the table, aimed directly at his hand. On his finger is a wedding ring - not the one Lizzy put there tonight, but the one Grace put there years ago. “Is it hard for you?”

  He doesn’t look up, as if he expected you to ask that question, had been preparing an answer from the moment he sat down. “It doesn’t get easier.”

   “Finn was telling me a little bit about her. How much you loved her. How much you miss her.”

    “Yeah, well.” Tommy draws his shoulders back, inhales before taking a swig of his whiskey. “Finn would know firsthand; he saw the state I was in.”

   His face is not the one of a man newly married. He’s sombre, jaw clenched and shoulders tense. You have half a mind to whisk him away, break him out of this venue so he can go off and live a life he maybe deserves - in all honestly, you don’t know what that life would ever entail. One look at Tommy’s track record would make anyone believe he deserves nothing more than a hole in the ground.

   “I don’t want him going through the same thing,” he says suddenly. “I pressure him a lot, but I want him to settle down with someone he loves. I want him to have something like Grace and I.”

   You blink. “He’ll find someone. I’ll - I’ll keep an eye on him, Tommy. I will.”

  Tommy nods thoughtfully. There is nothing much left to say besides that, so together, you and Tommy sit at the bar and share a final glass of whiskey before Lizzy emerges and whisks him away to a life he does not want, a life he may or may not deserve, a life you do not want to imitate for yourself.

   You glance over your shoulder when the night starts drawing to a close; Alfie Solomons has already left, claiming he had to feed his dog; Johnny Doggs and his wife have already left; Arthur and Linda have already left, though that decision was made more by Linda from what you could tell during the brief goodbyes in which she hastily pecked your cheek, wished you luck in the Shelby family and then fled the scene.

    It feels like you’ve been at the bar all night, a waste of a good evening, in your opinion. The class and the grand lifestyle the wedding projected was certainly not for you, but you’d be lying to claim the free bar did not settle your nerves a little bit.

  Plus, knowing Finn was there for you was a good comfort.

   Your drowsy by the time the dance floor starts clearing, mind awhirl. You push yourself away from the counter, smiling to people you haven’t spoken to all night, saying hello to people who probably just think you’re part of the staff; at this point, with this much alcohol in your system, you don’t even care. Let them think whatever they want. You came here to help a friend-

  Friend.

  Can you even call Finn Shelby a friend? Do you even want to call him a friend? The more you think about it, the more your skin heats up. His hand on your own as he guided you through the crowd, his breath on your neck when he would lean in to whisper in your ear - just the thought of it is enough to make the word ‘friend’ sound so inadequate, so unsuitable. In your drunken stupor, you nearly start laughing.

    But that is such dangerous ground. He’s a Shelby, and if there’s one thing your parents - god rest their souls - would disapprove of, it’s you getting involved with a Shelby. Ada is bad enough, and she’s nothing more than a dear friend.

   “There you are.”

  You whirl around. A piece of hair falls from your up-do and cascades across your forehead; Finn frowns, gently pushing it away as he analyses the dilation of your eyes, your cracked lips which are stretched into a smile that really makes no sense, because nothing is funny right now.

  “Are you alright?” he asks, and he looks so good when he asks it, because his mouth just forms the words like he invented the god damn English language or something, and ugh-

  You wrap your arms around his shoulders. “When we get married, Tommy is invited. Best man, Tommy Shelby. How does that sound?”

 Finn draws away, keeping his hands on your waist. “Okay, you’ve definitely had a bit too much to drink.”

  “What do you think about pre-marital sex?”

  His eyes widen, cheeks going red almost immediately; it’s so adorable. You giggle and press a kiss to his face that he doesn’t recoil from, but he certainly doesn’t react how you want him to.

   You pull away. “Okay, maybe you’re not as big on pre-marital sex as I thought.”

  “Y/N-”

  “Sorry.” You step back fully, crossing your arms behind your back like a child being scolded. “I need to learn how to bite my fucking tongue, don’t I? Very not classy of me to-”

   “I don’t give a shit about classy.” When he says it, it mingles with a laugh, so the words sound jolted and lighthearted, even though you feel nothing but pure anxiety right now. “Do you know the amount of whores I’ve been with, Y/N?”

   Your eyes widen. “Finn Shelby, I am not a-”

  He steps closer, lowering his voice. “What I’m trying to say, love, is that pre-marital sex isn’t that big of an issue.”

   Even in your drunken state, his words fluster you. You open your mouth to respond, perhaps some witty, sarcastic remark that will make him believe his confession didn’t completely sober you up in the space of two seconds - but the words fall short, and your shock filters through, and the only thing you can do is stare at him with wide eyes.

  He chuckles, and for a moment, he looks just like Tommy, sounds just like Tommy. It’s weird, because for the time you’ve known of Finn Shelby, he has always been described as the quiet one, timid in his own sense, staying close to the background because his brothers never let him come any further forward.

   But here he stands, making these snide little remarks and these tiny little jokes that leave you speechless, despite you being the one to have started them.

   You look to the floor and cough. “How long is this thing meant to last?”

  “The wedding?”

  You look up. “You know what I mean.”

  Finn grins, stuffing his hands in the pockets of his dress trousers. “You don’t have to see me again after the wedding. I won’t be offended.”

   But there’s a bit of a dip in his tone that makes you look back up at him and raise a brow. He’s looking at you again, head tilted when he says, “Do you want me to walk you home?”

  “Do you want me to go home?”

  He pauses. “I don’t know.”

  “Not like a Shelby to be unsure of what he wants.”

  “I know full well what I want.” He takes a step back and holds out his arm. “But you’re pissed out of your head, and I’d rather wait till you can form full sentences.”

  ---

    You think it’s quite unfair that you have to go into work the day after the Shelby wedding.

   Ada takes one look at you when you walk through them mahogany doors and bursts into laughter; you don’t need to hear it from her. You know you look a mess, hair half-done from the night before, clothes leaning more towards comfortable than stylish. You honestly couldn’t bring yourself to wear anything fancier than a shirt and trousers today, and you’ll gladly slap any fucker who has anything to say about it.

  You slump down behind your desk and send Ada a glare. “You look chipper this morning.”

   “Mm. You see, Y/N, I was actually responsible last night and remembered I have work this morning.”

  “Aren’t you going straight to heaven?”

  Ada laughs even harder. You roll your eyes, turning to the stack of newspapers you have to finish sorting through before your boss walks out and sees you didn’t finish them a few days prior - the very day Finn Shelby walked into your life and derailed everything.

   Part of you knows it’s dramatic; you’ve known Finn for only a handful of days, but he’s the same man you’ve been hearing about from the first day you started work with Ada Thorn, the same man who invited you to his brothers wedding, the same man who told you last night that he would gladly have sex with you, but was decent enough to wait until you were sober enough to give proper consent.

   You haven’t stopped thinking about it since then. Last night, your alcohol-infused brain ran at a million miles per hour as you pondered over whether or not you would ever take him up on his offer, if that was even plausible considering the circumstances; he was a Shelby after all, which - on its own - is a big enough reason for you to take a step back and move on.

   It’s as these thoughts crawl back to you that you notice Ada staring at you from across the office. You perk up, giving her your best smile, as if she can somehow read your thoughts of her brother.

   “Finn was good to you last night?”

  Apparently she can.

   You look away. “Fucking hell, Ada. Give me a chance to settle in before you start, yeah?”

  “I’m just curious. I barely saw you two last night.” She folds her arms across her desk and leans forward. “You were at the venue, weren’t you?”

    Your cheeks heat up. “Yes, Ada, we were. And then he walked me home, and it was lovely - but nothing else happened.

 “Hm.” She draws back. “That was gentleman-ly of him. Didn’t expect it from one of my brothers.”

  “I thought you said he’s the decent one.

 “Oh, he is. But that’s me comparing him to actual fucking murderers.”

  You shrug. “Fair enough.”

  Ada takes a moment, but when she responds, her voice is soft, unlike anything you’ve heard from her before. “He really is a decent bloke, Y/N. He’d treat you well if you’re looking.”

 Your eyes shoot up. “Who told you I was looking?

 “Well, you’re single, you have absolutely no social life outside of this office-”

 “Don’t fucking flatter yourself.”

  “-and I saw the way you and him spoke to each other.” You open your mouth to respond, but Ada holds up a hand to silence you. “I’m not suggesting anything before you take a fucking hissy fit, alright. I’m just saying - if no one else is ringing any bells for you…”

   You kind of hate that she has a point.

  You scoff and roll your eyes, tell her to get back to her work, but you ponder over her words for the remainder of the day - not because they were ridiculous, but because you can see where she’s coming from, why she would think like that. And it’s not as if you and Finn spent the night hanging from each others arms - in fact, you spent most of the night apart, considering Finn had family to impress and you were more interested in the free bar than anything else - but still. When you were together, there was obviously something there.

   Maybe you’re just flattering yourself, seeing things just because you want to see them. Maybe Finn really did think of this whole thing as nothing more than a fun little business deal, a taste of the world his brothers have estranged him from since he was a little boy. In years to come, someone will ask Finn Shelby what his first Big Business Deal was, and he’ll be able to say “I convinced someone to go to my brothers wedding so I didn’t have to sleep with a whore,” and that will be the end of it. You will be nothing more than the one who went to the wedding.

   The one stupid enough to go to the wedding.

  The day drags on after that - partly because of these new thoughts, and hugely because of your massive hangover. Ada tries her best to help you through it, returning the favour, but she has to leave at half six to pick up Carl, and you’re too polite to ask her to stay and tend your emotional wounds.

   So she leaves, and the office is quiet, and you finish up her work for the day because you’re also too polite to let her get in trouble by not finishing her work.

   The door starts to slowly open at around half seven. Already the streets of Birmingham are getting dark, the kids ushered into their homes as parents notice the street lights turning on, a sign that the fun is over and it’s time to start putting the little ones to bed.

   You look up from the pile of unstamped books you’ve been working through for nearly an hour now. You see nothing, just a sliver of light and a faint shadow creeping beneath the opening door. Your heart speeds up for a reason you can’t pinpoint - the most likely case is one of your co-workers has come back to check on you, which they do quite a lot considering you’re one of the youngest employees.

   You crane your neck. “Ada?”

  “Close.”

 Your heart plummets. “Finn.”

   He pokes his head round the door, offering a grin that doesn’t look a single bit pained - the bastard got off without a hangover, then. Typical. Unfair.

   He steps into the office, waving a jug of whiskey as he does so. “I brought gifts.”

  “You can keep them,” you reply, gesturing to the books in front of you. “I’ve got work to do.”

  “Boring.”

  “And a hangover.”

 He snickers, tossing his fancy blazer off his shoulders and onto the chair he then proceeds to slump into. “So last night caught up with you, did it?” He pauses. “How much do you remember?”

 “Enough to know I don’t want to talk about it.” You don’t mean to sound so harsh - it just kind of happens. Finn’s expression doesn’t waver, but you see him drag his lower lip between his teeth for the briefest of moments, the only sign he’s actually heard what you said.

   You continue stamping the books. Finn watches, taking the occasional sip of his whiskey.

   “How was Tommy this morning?” you find yourself asking, just to make conversation.

   Finn chews his bottom lip. “Decent. Busy. Didn’t really talk to him much.”

  “Not even a congratulations?”

  “Pretty sure I told him I felt bad for him, but that was about it.”

 “Affectionate.”

  Finn shrugs. “You know me.”

  “Do I?”

  “Better than you probably should.”

  You purse your lips, stamping a book a little harder than necessary.

  Finn leans forward, placing his joined fingers on top of the stack. You pause, flicking your eyes up as if to say do you need something?

  He tilts his head. “You’re really gonna just sit and pretend like last night never fucking happened?”

  Your grip tightens on the stamp. “I thought that was what we both planned on doing.”

  “That was before we had our little conversation.”

  “Little?”

  “Would you say it was a big deal?”

  Fuck.

  You look down again and shrug, shoving his hands off the pile so you can continue working. “I would say I was drunk, and so were you-”

  “I don’t get drunk.”

 “You had alcohol somewhere in your fucking system, Finn, so neither of us were in our right minds.”

   He scoffs. “Speak for yourself, love. I was perfectly fine, and I knew exactly what I was saying.” He leans forward. “And I remember exactly what you said, too.”

   “Why are you such a pain in the arse?”

  Finn pulls back, holding his hands by his ears in mock surrender. “Hey, just tell me to leave and I’ll walk out that door and never turn back. Simple.”

  You open your mouth to say just that, because that sentence would make things ten times easier. Finn will leave, and you’ll hurt but it will be okay because you’ll be left with no other option than to forget him. You’ll never have to deal with the consequences of being with a Shelby if there was no Shelby left in your life to be with.

  But again, the words die. The truth pushes against your rib cage, the feelings you’ve been unable to deny from the moment he walked into your life and said come to my brothers wedding.

   Finn watches your hesitation, and then you watch him smirk, like he’s figured out some plot twist in a story he’s invested himself in. You grit your teeth and look away, shaking your head at the table as if that will somehow change something.

   “You’re a pain in the arse.” The words come out as a whisper. You’ve cracked. Finn can see it.

   He doesn’t chuckle or goad. He instead stands up and walks around the table. You tighten your grip on the stamp, refusing to look up even when you feel his presence hovering over you, willing you to notice him, notice him, notice him, everything will shatter if you notice him.

   His presence alone is strong, making you weak in the knees. But then he reaches forward and runs a finger along your jaw before cupping your chin and guiding your head to look at him. You have no other choice - you could close your eyes and pretend none of this is happening, but then you would lose the experience of having Finn Shelby look at you with that fire in his eyes, and you’re not really willing to do that.

   So you look back at him, and he smiles.

  “I don’t know how any of this shit works,” he says softly. Too soft for a Shelby. “You’re gonna have to help me out.” He tilts his head. “Do you wanna help me out?”

   You swallow, eyes drifting to his lips before you can stop yourself. “I - I can try.”

  Finn smiles once again, and then that smile is placed against your own. You didn’t realise just how desperately you wanted to feel his lips, didn’t realise just how desperate last night had left you - but now it’s happening, and the dam has broken, and your clawing at his shirt, drawing him impossibly closer until he’s forced to press his fingers against the wall behind your head just to keep himself upright. He grins against your mouth, tongue slipping between your teeth before he draws back and lifts you up. It startles you, but you wrap your legs around his waist nonetheless, letting him press you against the wall as his hands fumble for your hair, knotting themselves in the strands; you do the exact same, and he groans into your mouth, pulls away just to nip at your jaw before he realises he wants to feel your lips a little more and goes back to square one.

   “Good,” he whispers against your mouth. “Good, good.”

  “Shut the fuck up,” you hiss, pulling him in for more. He laughs, breaking away from the kiss to trail kisses down your jaw, towards your neck, fingers kneading into your thighs as he holds you against him.

   You tilt your head back. “Finn.”

  “Mm?”

  “Ada will kill me if I don’t get this work done.”

  Finn pauses. His breath lingers on your flesh, and for a second, you’re tempted to just pull him back and forget you ever said anything - you’re sure he won’t mind, considering the hesitation in his movements when he finally draws away from you, letting you drop back to the floor.

   You look up at him and smile. He smiles back, a hint of frustration building behind the expression, but he’s kind enough to let you waltz past him, back to your desk.

   “Sorry,” you say, fighting to control your grin. “A busy day. You know how it is.”

  “Mhm.”

  You glance over your shoulder. “Don’t be mad.”

  “I’m not-” He sighs, running a hand over his face. “I’m not mad.” He slumps back in his chair, waving a lazy hand towards the pile of books. “Do whatever the fuck you have to do.”

  You grin. Finn rolls his eyes, but he’s smiling too - a smile you had yet to see on a Shelby boy until now, a smile of genuine amusement with absolutely no malicious intent behind it.

[wlw-lovestruck-fiction]

Can we get some Ada love? Like her and MC cuddling on the couch or maybe having a few drinks at Ada's bar after a long day? I don't even care which I just her to get appreciated

No matter how much Fiona insists that you are doing a wonderful job in the Ward, you can’t help but feel that you aren’t doing much. All of them are focused on what needs to be done and the best way to do it. In contrast to their methodical, efficient tactics, you tackled problems like a chaotic force of nature, barely giving it time to exist but certainly not solving it at all.

Not in Kellan’s opinion, anyway. To you, they looked as solved as they could get.

This discrepancy in opinions resulted in long, long discussions that left you more than a little frustrated. This night was no different. No sooner have you stepped out of the Ward that you make a beeline for Ada’s bar, grumbling to yourself. There’s no one to accompany you tonight, but you don’t mind one bit.

It’s a welcome opportunity to be alone with Ada.

Or, well, as alone as you can be in a bar full of people Ada must occasionally tend to. You’ll enjoy what you can get.

“Evening, everyone.” You say, masking your foul mood with a charming smile. Most of the patrons turn to greet you, but your attention is instantly drawn to the slender chestnut-haired bartender moving gracefully through the mass of bodies. She’s a true sight to behold, spinning this way and that while still maintaining a careful grip on the tray full of drinks she’s carrying.

Soon, the grin on your face is anything but forced. Ada has this ability to make anyone’s day better with just her presence and witty charm. The drinks she serves are merely a nice bonus.

She turns in your direction as soon as she hears your voice, beaming, her grin as brilliant and radiant as the very sun. She gestures towards the counter and then continues to deliver the drinks she still has.

You don’t wait for long – soon she’s slipping behind it, already reaching for the ingredients to make your usual drink.

“How are you holding up, Snowdrop?” She asks, voice like honey, thick and rich and so very sweet, so very warm. It chases the last vestiges of your fight with Kellan away, yet you can't help but notice the slight slump in her shoulders, her tired eyes, and the way her usual vibrant movements seem much more drained.

“Better than you, it seems. Long day?”

Ada throws the group in the back of the bar a weary look. “You could say that.”

“Anything I can do to help?”

“Just dally like you usually do. I could use the company.”

“Oh?” You lean forward. “Are you saying I can’t help you mix some drinks? You need to have some faith in me, Ada. I’m quite good with my hands.”

Ada pauses, eyes flicking upwards to meet yours, glinting with faint amusement.

“Are you, now? I’ll need a demonstration, Snowdrop.” Her grin turns even more playful when you produce a coin, making the movement linger if only to stretch the moment a little more. She tracks your hand with sharp attention, looking vaguely impressed when you deftly move it between your fingers. She laughs. “Well, I’m never questioning your skills again, that’s for sure.”

A loud shout rings from the back, and Ada’s beautiful, beautiful expression crumbles like a deck of cards, her lips thin with annoyance.

“If they are any louder, they will bring down the whole place.” She grumbles, and quickly finishes making the drinks. Her expressions softens when she catches your gaze again, apologetic. “Give me a minute-”

She freezes in shock when you shot out of your seat, hand already moving to the forgotten tray by your side.

“No, you stay here. I’ll help.”

“But you-”

“Won’t spill anything, I promise. My luck might be bad but my reflexes more than make up for it.”

“Snowdrop, I-”

“Watch me.”

While you aren’t nowhere near as graceful as she is, you have no trouble navigating the sea of limbs and hats in record time. You meet her gaze from across the room once you deliver the drinks, smug, and she merely shrugs, fond.

“Well.” She says once you get back at her side. It’s a short, sharp sound, like the tap of a boot across the dance floor, full of energy she didn’t have before. “Better get moving, then, Snowdrop. We have a long night ahead of us.”

…

Hours later, after the first rays of sunlight chase the last of the patrons away, Ada lets herself drop in one of the tables in front of her counter with a long sigh.

“You doing okay?” You ask, softly, putting the glass you were cleaning away.

Ada groans. “Been almost two days. If it weren’t for coffee, I’d… well, no, I’m probably a zombie right now.”

Zombie. You grimace, recalling the revelation the Ward had given you not too long ago. Vampires, demons, mystics, ghosts…

What if zombies-

You quickly shove that thought out of your mind, disturbed by its very existence. Your mind quickly latches onto a more interesting subject, namely the way Ada’s hair, now out of its bun, gleams beautifully if the light hits it just right. It’s a river of coppery gold falling down her shoulders, brushing her back with light, dizzying touches, drawing your attention to the tattoos she has there and oh, she’s too gorgeous and you are too sleep-deprived to function properly.

The glass you were distractedly trying to put in place clicks abruptly with another, and Ada snaps her head in your direction, startled by the sound.

Her eyes quickly find yours.

Your mind scrambles for a smooth recover, but Ada is already smirking before you can even think.

“Careful with the glass, Snowdrop. Wouldn’t want an excuse to punish you, after-” She tries to go for a suave remark and fails miserably, cut off by a yawn. You can’t help but chuckle at her mortified expression, cheeks tinted pink.

“I might come here and break a glass later.”

“Maybe I’ll regain my ability to flirt by then.” She mumbles, finally, getting to her feet with unsteady movements. Then she pauses and throws you another look, suddenly contemplative. You raise an eyebrow, intrigued.

“What? Are you considering hiring me?”

“Nothing of the sort, Snowdrop. You already have a job, remember?”

The detail had been thoroughly forgotten after seeing how tired Ada was yesterday, overwhelmed by the intense desire to help. It’s not like you can be blamed, though, you’ve only been in the job for less than a week and it already looks like Kellan wants to fire you, anyway, never mind the fact that you are a witch.

But you did, technically, have a job. Joy.

The reminder makes you aware of how exhausted you are. You rub your temple, frustrated.

“Right. That. Honestly, I don’t think it’ll work out.”

Ada snorts. “Yeah, I was intrigued when Sascha mentioned you were going to join the Ward. Never thought I’d see a thief there.”

“So… does than mean I can work here when I inevitably get fired?”

“I wouldn’t complain.” She yawns again, and smiles tiredly. “Anyway, the Ward is a tough job, plus you had to pull an all-nighter because of me. And we are quite far away from Donna’s place, so… you could…” She trails off, suddenly bashful, looking at the side. It’s a strange look on her, because she is usually so effortlessly confident, but it doesn’t stop the rush of warmth affection that courses through you at the sight. “You can sleep here, if you’d like.”

Your heart leaps to your throat, insistent, thumbing so loudly you fear she can hear it.

“I’d love to.”

Ada is beaming before you can even finish, hand already slipping between yours, leading you away from the counter and upstairs, to her small apartment. It’s remarkably cozy, away from the loudness of the world.

“How many hours do you have?” Ada asks, curiously.

“Probably three before Fiona or Cecilia turn the whole town on its head to find me.”

And either of them would find you straight away. The joys of the Otherworld knew no bounds, that’s for sure.

“They will be the best three hours of your life, I promise.” She laughs when you smirk at her, swatting your arm. “To rest, of course. Really, I can’t see you in the Ward with that mind of yours.”

“And Sascha?”

“Sascha is. Well. Sascha.” She pauses. “How are either of you in the Ward, again?”

“How is anyone but Cecilia, you mean.”

“They have their responsible moments.” A shrug, and then she’s pulling you straight into the bed. You fall in a tangle of limbs neither of you wants to break. Ada’s voice turns softer, full of wonder. “And then there’s you. Pure, untamable chaos. And you chose to waste your night away working with me instead of resting.”

“Being with you it’s fun.”

Her eyes are falling shut. She blinks sleepily. “Say, Snowdrop? I don’t want to pretend there’s nothing between us.”

All week has been nothing but teasing and flirting, sparking interest, igniting it with a touch, then watch it flicker while both of you tried to see what the other would do, how you should respond…

And here’s Ada, half-asleep, throwing it all out of the window with one direct sentence. You laugh. It’s a very Ada thing to do.

“I don’t want to, either.”

“Wonderful.” She murmurs, and itches closer, humming softly when you hug her and pull her close. “Will I see you tonight?”

“Every night, unless the Ward sends me to the desert or something similar.”

“Right, the Ward. Sure, okay… I can work with that…”

She’s out in seconds, there in your arms, breathing softly. You smile, happier than you’ve been in ages. You can’t wait to see how everything will turn out.

[siriuslyshewrote]

Can’t Stop DNA - Part Three

A/N - it’s finally here! Part Three/Finale. Hope you guys like it 🥺. (P.S I know the gif isn’t off Peaky Blinders aha). Let me know in the comments!!

Part One | Part Two

It was only a few hours after your conversation with Isaiah that you had rang Ada, practically wailing down the phone about how you had fucked everything up, and how you need your big sister so much right now. Even though she didn't really know the full extent of what had happened, she had heard about the pregnancy from Polly a few hours before, and knew full well what the atmosphere in the Shelby home would be right now. She was right - it felt like you were in hell, like someone had flipped a switch, turned everything upside down, like you had fallen asleep and awoken in a nightmare world, like you had read about in your dystopian books. She heard the break in your voice, the gasps for breath, and it half broke her heart that you were going through what she had. She couldn't leave you up there, not when she was sure the outcome of it would be frosty silences, or vicious arguments with your brothers, over and over again. And when you had sobbed down the phone how much you wanted this baby - like she had wanted Karl, she invited you (or rather, instructed you) to come down to London, to live with her.

In that moment it felt like Ada had thrown you a lifeline. You barely thought about it, agreeing hurriedly, and throwing things into a suitcase, and making it to the train station within half an hour of the phone call. You only spoke to Polly before you left, and though she didn't say it, you knew from the soft look in her eyes that she knew this was the best thing for you. And that filled your heart with some hope, always having believed in Polly's ability to not see into the future exactly, but to have a sense about these kinds of things. Before you got out the door, she put a wad of money into your hands, and pressed a kiss to your cheek. You tried to turn away before she could see the tears dripping down your cheeks.

Polly watched you walk down the street, head held high, a heavy feeling in her heart, and anger too, her nephews having pushed away yet another of their siblings. She never told you about how they reacted when they got home, nor did she tell about how Isaiah Jesus appeared on her doorstep, knocking frantically, or how his expression faltered when Tommy told him you'd gone away, and when something in the young mans eyes died when he told him he wouldn't tell him where. Tommy thought he was protecting you, and Polly did too.

For a while.

*************************************************The summers heat was almost unbearable, you decided, fanning your face with a half folded over newspaper, staring out the window, at the street below. The Peaky Blinders boys - two of them, stood at the end of the street, looking completely casual, almost blending in, though you knew them well by now - they were two of the lads Tommy had hired to protect Ada and you, and little Karl. You winced again, rubbing at your back, eyes looking at the large baby bump protruding from your stomach. You were eight and a half months pregnant, and it was pure, unadulterated hell, especially in this fucking heat. The 'practice' contractions the doctor told you you would have were a pain in the arse, getting worse and worse, and had been since yesterday evening, some twelve hours ago, though you were far too stubborn to tell your sister about the pain you were in.

"You better not hurt this much when you decide to come, little one." You murmured with a half smile, fingers caressing the space you imagined your baby's head would be. You were sat in Karl's old nursery - soon to be your baby's, looking at the constellations and moons that Ada had painstakingly painted when she moved in.

Losing Isaiah had taken a toll on you - a visible one at that - and it had taken you months to put yourself slowly back together, but it hadn't marred the love you had for this baby inside of you. A girl, Polly had reckoned, when she came to visit a few months ago, though Ada argued with a knowing smile that she thought it was a boy. Either way, you had said with a laugh, you just wanted them here. You couldn't deny that you were lonely. The only people you spoke to nowadays was Ada, and Polly, and Karl, if he counted, though it was doubtful, as the most he could do was gurgle adorable, if incoherent, noises.

“Y/N!” Ada yelled up the stairs, “Polly’s on the phone for you!”

“Coming!” You called back, pushing yourself into a standing position, half waddling towards the staircase, yet another one of those bloody practice contractions hitting you. Except this time, you felt something different. You felt what you were almost sure was your water breaking.

“Ada!” You shrieked ,half hysterical already.

********************************************

"Okay, okay. Polly's gonna be on her way soon, okay?" Ada soothed you, you being now sat on the couch, as you had a mild meltdown, having told her at least ten times already that you didn't think you could do it, and oh fuck I'm going to be a mother. A mother, Ades! I can't do that!

"She's four hours away!" You sobbed. "I can't do it Ades, I can't do it."

"You can." She told you firmly, her eyes locking with yours. "You can okay? I'm right here. I'm not going to leave you."

"No, I can't." Your voice quietened a little. "I can't do it without him, Ades. I know I can't. Not without Is."

Her face looked pained for a few moments.

“It’s going to be okay.”

“It’s not! I was fucking stupid, Ades. All my life, he’s always been there, he’s always helped me through everything. He held my hand when I had to get stitches when John didn’t catch me when I fell outta the tree, and when I got gravel stuck in my knees, and when ... when everything bad happened, he was there. What am I gonna do?” You exclaimed, blinking back more tears.

She gripped your shoulders, looking into your eyes.

“You know what, Y/N? You’re going to be a great mum. You’re gonna be what mum was to us, okay? She fucking looked after us even after dad left, and tried her fucking best until she died. And you need to take all of the strength she had, and use it. Because you can do this. I know you can, okay. And when have I ever been wrong about anything?”

At the mention of your mum, your heart swelled a little, the pain felt a little bit less. Ada was right.

“When you told John I wasn’t going to fall out of the tree so he didn’t need to catch me?” You laughed tearily, and she snorted.

“Yeah, asides from that. You’re going to be fine, Squirrel, okay? I’m right here.”

*******************************************

“When the fuck is Pol going to get here.” You groaned, walking around the room slowly, trying to dim the pain a little, after the glass of whiskey that Ada had given you, saying that her birth wasn’t that bad with Karl (having been piss drunk at the time), hadn’t seemed to work. All it had done was make you feel a little lightheaded, and so, when the living room door burst open, showing two figures, you were half sure you had become a lightweight all those months without drink, and were almost convinced you were hallucinating.

Polly stood, looking half determined and half worried, not looking at all like she had just stepped off a train, and walked straight towards you, and as much as you would have usually have embraced her, your eyes stayed focused on the person with her. The pain of labour was very quickly replaced by another pain, one that felt like a dagger to the heart. Because that couldn’t be Isaiah. It couldn’t.

When Polly had come to visit, those months ago, she didn’t mention Isaiah, only slipped you a letter as she was about to leave. She didn’t say who it was from, but you recognised the lettering on the envelope, the scrawl that’s only belonged to one person you knew. It had gone unopened for months, and still was, next to your bed upstairs, you being too scared for the rejection you were sure lay inside. Now? With him here? You wished you had opened it.

“Hey.” He said softly, cap between his hands, eyes flickering between your face, and your largely swollen belly.

Your throat felt like it had closed up, and if you opened your mouth, you expected you would just make silent movements with it, gaping like the goldfish you had won at the fair when you were younger.

“How long has it been?” Polly’s voice broke you away from his gaze, back to what was happening.

“Five hours, since her waters broke.” Ada supplied from beside you, her hands carefully rubbing your back, shooting Isaiah a look that was a mixture of thank fuck you’re here and fuck off you wanker.

It was the exactly how you felt, to be honest, as he stood at the door, not moving, not sure what to do.

“Come on, love, let’s get you sat down.” Polly said gently, guiding you towards the sofa. You weren’t sure why Polly had brought him here, or how you really felt, or how he felt. And it was killing you, the not knowing.

“Why’re you here?” Your voice cracked.

Polly and Ada gave each other a glance, a silent decision.

“Five minutes.” Polly spoke to Isaiah, pulling Ada with her. “If you upset her, you’re out.”

With that, the door slammed behind the both. You almost felt pity for him - having the two scariest women you knew angry at you, was sure to scare even Tommy Shelby shitless.

You both stayed where you were, silent, for a few moments.

“I looked for you. For months.” He spoke, softly, sitting down at the edge of the couch you were on, unsure of what to do, of whether to go back to how you used to, and sit right next to you, or treat you like an almost stranger, and keep his distance.

You just blinked at him. “Why?”

“Because I ... I fucked up. I was a prick.”

“Yeah, you were.” You agreed, leaning back against the sofa cushions, not anger in your tone, but pain. Waiting to see how this would all play out.

“I wouldn’t blame you if you hated me forever. If you never wanted to see me again. If you wouldn’t even tell the ... the baby who I was.”

“Is.” You sighed. “Isaiah.” You corrected yourself, the old nickname feeling sour in your mouth now. “You aren’t ready for a kid. I can’t blame you. I can blame how you reacted. But I can’t blame you for that.”

“You’re wrong.” He spoke again. “Once you left my house, I ... I was so angry. At myself, at you, at whatever bloody God there is for letting this happen. Because I was scared. I was scared because I didn’t factor in a baby to my plan, and I was scared because I knew how those people, the people here, would treat you, and our baby, for me, for their father, the colour of my skin.”

You swallowed. It wasn’t as if the thought hadn’t occurred to you, over and over again, thoughts rushing through your brain, as you begged internally, for things to be different when your baby was born, in London, for people to not care about their ethnicity, for them to not show the same hate you had seen people show Isaiah since you were a kid.

“And I was scared that I couldn’t do it. That I couldn’t be a father. It was only when I realised that the person that mattered most over all of that, was you. And then I realised what I’d done.”

“But you didn’t come for me.” You said tearily. “You didn’t come and tell me any of this.”

“I went to your house the morning afterwards. I was gonna ask you to marry me. I had this whole apology figured out, and I just... I was going to make things right again. I was so sure. And then Tommy told me you were gone. And he wouldn’t say where, or with who, and I just... I couldn’t think of what to do. After a while, I figured it was Ada, and I came to London, but there’s no way I could find this place without any help, and no one wanted to help. They all said that you’d be better off without me. I - I started to believe it.”

He had tears in his eyes now, and your heart broke a little more. Tentatively, you stretched out your hand to his, and as his fingers slotted between yours, you felt a familiar sense of warmth.

“I’m sorry.” You whispered. “I got your letter. I didn’t open it, I thought... I just thought it would be you saying you didn’t want anything to do with the baby.”

“I do, Y/N. I want everything to do with this baby. It took losing you to figure that out, but I have. I swear. I’ll never, never leave you, okay. Not again. I promise. Just give me this chance. Please.”

His voice was half begging now, but you were already saying yes, feeling more complete and happy than you had since before you learnt you were pregnant. Feeling, for the first time, that you could do this. That you could do anything, as long as you had Is with you.

“Okay, Is.” You spoke softly. “Okay.”

[octothorpetopus]

Half-Past Midnight (Rafael Barba x Sonny Carisi)

It's 12:32 a.m. and Rafael Barba and Sonny Carisi are still awake.

A/N: okay, so technically I wrote this last December, but I never put it on tumblr so I figured I’d share it here, because I thought it was pretty good! thanks for reading, and I always read and appreciate any comments or feedback you have!

There was only one office still lit up at 1 Hogan Place this late at night. In the darkened DA’s office, it seemed to Rafael Barba as if it were the only light on in the whole of Manhattan. Laughter echoed through the empty building, a rare combination of Sonny's unrestrained, drunken giggles and his own hysterics, which sounded unfamiliar without the usual air of constraint. There was no need for constraint now, with a half-empty bottle of tequila between them, jackets, vests, and ties all discarded and littering Rafael's desk. He had his feet kicked up on his desk, not caring if Sonny could see his solar system socks.

They had been drinking for almost two hours now, sipping tequila out of coffee mugs (Rafael's custom-made #1 ADA mug, a secret Santa gift from last Christmas, and Sonny's favorite glow-in-the-dark Batman mug. It was the only mug that Rafael allowed to stay on the shelf below the coffee maker in his office), and they had been working long before that, but when Rafael suggested breaking out the tequila, Sonny had suggested that maybe they shouldn't get drunk while they worked. It didn't matter, anyway. They had reached a dead end in the case- no one more to subpoena, no more witnesses, no more evidence. They weren't going to win, and that was clear. So they drank, and they smiled, and they laughed, because what else can you do?

They were playing Never Have I Ever now, having exhausted all of their normal conversation topics (politics, the Rangers- that's it), and having played far too many rounds of ADA/defense attorney/cop Fuck, Marry, Kill, a game which, despite their best efforts, they would never be able to clear from their minds. Both of them still had all of their fingers up, and the game had just begun.

"Alright, never have I ever... had sex with a coworker." Rafael rolled his eyes and took a long sip. Sonny snorted. "Really? Who?"

"Trust me, you don't want to know." Rafael muffled a laugh at Sonny's horrified expression. "Not that it's that bad, I just don't want it to be weird the next time you see each other." Sonny's eyes widened even further. "...I'm just making it worse, aren't I?"

"Can you give me a hint, at least?" Rafael considered for a moment. He liked how easy it was to fuck with Carisi, because he could fuck with Rafael right back.

"Okay, fine. She's not a cop." Carisi visibly relaxed, then tensed.

"Wait. If she's a woman, not a cop, and I've met her, then... oh my god. Oh my god." He finished off the rest of his drink and refilled it. Then he chugged half of that, his green eyes watering.

"Hey, it's not even your turn!"

"I'm sorry, but no amount of alcohol will ever wipe the image of you and Rita Calhoun having sex out of my head!" Rafael snorted.

"I never said it was Rita." But Rafael's poker face got weak when he got drunk, and he flushed a little.

"Jesus Christ, Rafael! Was it at least before she became the enemy?"

"Yes. Mostly."

"Fuck." Sonny made a retching noise.

"You know, for a catholic boy, you've got a hell of a mouth on you."

"Fuck you." Rafael took another sip. "And it's your turn." He considered momentarily.

"Never have I ever... lost a karaoke contest." Sonny sneered and gulped tequila.

"Not all of us have Broadway-worthy musical talent, Rafael."

"Yeah, but not everyone has your ability to never, ever sing the right note, Dominick."

"Karaoke night with the whole squad was a horrible idea and I still resent you for it."

"That's just because you lost."

"Shut up." Sonny tapped his fingers on the side of the mug, a familiar action that meant he was thinking hard. "Never have I ever gotten suspended from work."

"Low blow."

"Takes one to know one."

"That doesn't even make sense in this context!" They both burst out laughing, and by the time they were done, they weren't 100% sure what they'd been laughing about in the first place. "Never have I ever been in love." Sonny stopped mid-chuckle, the amused expression on his face fading into confusion and curiosity, clearly jarred by the sudden change in mood.

"Never? Like, never?" Rafael just nodded. "I... how?"

"Don't know. It just never happened."

"Oh." That seemed to be all Sonny could say, because he repeated it. "Oh." He tried to smile, but it didn't go any further than a small curve in the corner of his mouth. "That took an unexpected turn."

"Sorry." Rafael coughed. "I'm a shitty drunk. All over the place."

"We've gotten drunk together enough times that I know this is the time I'm supposed to walk you home. Come on." Sonny stood, but Rafael didn't move. "Let's go." Rafael still didn't move, just gestured towards the window with his chin. Sonny followed his gaze and they watched snow fall onto the sidewalk below for a few minutes. It had begun to pile up, just wet enough to be icy.

"I live twenty blocks away, it's the middle of the night, and it's snowing like a Hallmark movie on Christmas. Do what you want, but I'm not going."

"What, you're just going to sleep in your office?" Rafael pulled open the bottom drawer of his desk and pulled out a thick fleece blanket. "Oh," Sonny replied, his question answered.

"The armchairs by the fire are decently comfortable if you don't have back problems. You can stay, if you want." Sonny regarded Rafael oddly for a moment, somehow detached and yet curious.

"Thanks." He sat back down. Rafael's head tipped back. All of his limbs were heavy with exhaustion. They didn't talk for a bit, just drank and watched the snow fall. It was falling faster now, somewhere between a flurry and a blizzard. Every so often, Rafael sneaked a few furtive glances over at Sonny, watching the reflection of the snowfall in his eyes. He was struck with a vision of Sonny standing out in the snow, flakes catching his eyelashes, coming to rest in his hair, on his coat, drops of water trickling down his forehead as it melted. "What?" He was snapped from his thoughts by the realization that he was staring, and he had finally been caught.

"Nothing." He cleared his throat and flushed pink.

"You lied."

"Hm?" He met Sonny's eyes again.

"You lied."

"Yeah? About what?" Now Sonny blushed, but he didn't look away.

"When you said you'd never been in love. You lied."

"How would you know?"

"You've got a tell."

"I do not-"

"You look to the lower right and scratch your left ear." Rafael froze, thinking. "Trust me, you do."

"Oh."

"So, why would you lie about that?" Sonny arched an eyebrow. "You had no reason to. It was your turn to come up with the question. So you were, what, trying to convince yourself? Why?” Rafael couldn’t even tell if Sonny knew the answer. Hell, he didn’t know if he himself knew the answer. Sonny stood up again and circled the desk, sitting on the other edge so close to Rafael that Rafael could see the shallow rise and fall of his chest. “Why?” He asked again, and this time, Rafael answered. He wound his fingers tight around Sonny’s collar and pulled down. The space between them seemed infinite, but closed within seconds, and then Rafael’s lips were on Sonny’s, a position he’d imagined they would be in only in his dreams. In fact, this had happened in his dreams a hundred times in the last two years. Not always in his office, sometimes in the empty squad room or their favorite dive bar or even the secluded courthouse stairwell. And just like in his dreams, Sonny didn’t pull back. He pushed forward, leaning into Rafael, his movements intense as he slid one hand into Rafael’s hair, tangling his fingers into the gray-black mess. His other hand rested lightly on Rafael’s cheek, radiating warmth into his already warm face.

His own hands had somehow teleported to Sonny's waist, one or two fingertips brushing over bare skin where his shirt had ridden up. Sonny reached back just for a moment to yank the rest of it out, never once breaking the kiss. Rafael pulled back first, his breathing shallow and heavy.

"Are you-?"

"Yes." Sonny knew what the question was before it was even asked, and his own answer long before that. He leaned back into the kiss, this time reaching up to unbutton his own shirt, then Rafael's. They slid to the floor, gathering Rafael's soft, quilted blanket around them, not that they needed it. As cold as it was outside- and it was plenty cold, a near-blizzard- the office was bathed in a soft gold warmth as they melted into each other like snowflakes on the window pane.

"Thank you." Sonny snorted as Rafael rolled onto the floor beside him, breathless.

"For what? My d-"

"If you say your dick, I'll throw your clothes out the window."

"Okay, well, I wasn't gonna say that." Still, he quieted.

"Thank you for making me- for letting me- Christ. For wanting me, I guess." Rafael turned onto his side so that he was facing Sonny. "It means a lot. It means everything."

"Don't thank me for that. It wasn't a choice." Rafael chuckled.

"Way to make a guy feel good about himself."

"That's- shit. That's not what I meant. I meant... I would want you no matter what. I didn't choose to want you, I- I had to. It's like... it's like I'm drowning, and you're the lifeguard who's giving me mouth-to-mouth. In more ways than one, if you know what I-"

"I got it."

"But I would want you even if it were my choice. That's just who you are to me."

"Oh." Rafael brushed Sonny's cheek with an uncharacteristically tender thumb. "We should probably get dressed. I don't know what finding us like this would do to Carmen, or god forbid the DA, but I don't want to find out."

"Right." Sonny stood and offered Rafael a hand. "So, do you remember which clothes are yours and which are mine?"

Carmen did find them the next morning, although they were both very much dressed. She found them asleep in Rafael's twin armchairs, pushed together so that the blanket could be draped over both of them. Sonny's head was resting on Rafael's shoulder, and their hands were interlocked in a vice grip. They looked rather peaceful. Rather than wake them, she just adjusted the blanket, closed the blinds, and shut the door, allowing them a few more moments of peace and quiet.

The snow outside stopped falling.

The storm was over.

[fernwehbookworm]

Haunted- Chapter 5

This is where Alex finds them, well she finds Kara. Alex uses her spare key to unlock the door and bursts in to find Kara sitting at the table with a soft smile on her lips. Kara looks like she is about to laugh when she registers Alex’s presence at the door.

“Alex!” Kara shoots to her feet as if she has just been caught doing something she shouldn’t.

“Kara! What are you doing? Kelly called me. She said you ran off!”

“I… Nothing. Just trying to finish this article. I think I got it now.”

“And you came to your apartment that is compromised in some sort of way?”

“Yeah, about that. Look it’s nothing. Just… A friend pulling a prank. It’s all taken care of.”

Alex watches closely, she knows her sister is lying. Kara was never good at lying. Kara also keeps turning her head a bit to the side, as if she was hearing someone calling her name but she was refusing to turn her head to acknowledge them.

“Just a prank, huh?”

“Y-yup. Everything is fine. Completely normal.”

“Really? Then why did Kelly call me, worried, because you had run off yelling something about Lena being there and you not being crazy.” Alex makes her way closer to Kara, shutting the door behind herself.

“I was just disorientated from the glitch in the program. As soon as I cleared my head I was fine. Then I had an inspiration for my article and decided to write. It’s done now. I just have to submit it.” Kara sits back behind her computer and picks up her pen, playing with it between her fingers. Fidgeting, a classic sign.

“Well, that’s great!” Alex says, “Then we can have a movie night tonight. I’ll tell Kelly to come and we can get takeout.”

“No!” Kara shouts then immediately regrets it when Alex raises an eyebrow. “I mean, no, it's fine. I need to catch up on sleep and I’m sure you and Kelly have to work early.”

“We have hardly spent any time together. It will be fun.” Alex pulls out her phone and is already dialing Kara’s favorite Chinese place.

“Seriously Alex—” Kara is cut off by her sister ordering some of her favorite foods.

“We can’t talk about everything you need to know if your sister is here,” Lena says in Kara’s ear.

“I know.” Kara says under her breath, trying to move her lips as little as possible. “But I don’t have much choice right now.”

“Just keep the pen close. It’s helping me focus on staying together.”

Kara nods just barely then pockets the pen to keep it in reach. While Alex finishes the order, Kara submits her final draft and hopes that Snapper will like it. Then she logs off and powers down her computer to face an evening of trying to act normal around her sister.

“Okay, food will be here in an hour, so will Kelly. What do you want to watch?”

“I don’t care. You can pick.” Kara Grabs drinks from the fridge for the two of them and joins Alex, who has already settled on the couch and is scrolling through the menu. Kara settles next to Alex and feels Lena settle next to her also, as much as Lena can settle.

Kelly arrives and Alex let’s her in. Kara can hear hissed words as they work through an argument before returning. Kelly has her own plate of leftovers and Kara watches Lena eye the food longingly. At some point, Kara fell asleep, she was still semi-conscious of her sister and Kelly talking softly and laughing at the movie. At some point, a blanket is draped over Kara and the television turns off. Soft sounds of Alex and Kelly cleaning up pull at Kara’s consciousness.

“I’m worried, Alex. The reading I had from the program is troubling. I really think something is wrong. I… I think she may need more help. This could be stress-induced.”

Kara stiffens and is alert almost instantly. She can see Lena looking into the kitchen area intently, the pen was still clutched in Kara’s hand.

“I know. She’s lying to me and I don’t know why.”

“I've seen it a couple of times before. Patients lie because they know what is happening isn’t normal. Seeing things, hearing voices, or maybe paranoia. It’s not a good sign.”

“What do we do?”

“Maybe if we can get her to my office again then I can get a colleague of mine to evaluate her for… more extreme care.”

“Like what? Getting her committed?” Alex hisses at her girlfriend.

“If it's necessary. Alex, you know I love her like my own sister. I am terrified of what might happen if she doesn’t get the help that she needs. She could be suffering a mental break. We can’t ignore that.”

The silence is tense. Kara stares at Lena as Lena looks back with fear. This could ruin everything. Lena would never make it back to the physical world. Kara could not get trapped in a facility because she is not crazy. An audible sigh comes from Alex.

“Yeah, okay. We can get her there tomorrow. Come on, once she’s out from a movie she won’t wake up. We can take her bed, it's too late to go home.”

Sounds fade to the bedroom but Kara stays unmoving on the couch. Kara weighs her options before sitting up slowly. Lena sits next to Kara and Kara feels the cold presence of Lena’s hand on her’s.

“We have to go. Now. It’s getting harder to hold myself together. We can’t wait until the weekend. And if your sister somehow commits you against your will, then I might as well be dead.”

The lamp clicks off in the bedroom and Kara remains silent for several more minutes. Then she stands as quietly as possible and grabs her shoes by the couch. She pads to the door in her stocking feet and eases the lock open as quietly as possible. With a small squeak, the door opens and closes and Kara puts on her shoes in the hall.

“Okay, time to go,” Kara says half to herself and half to Lena.

It’s late, almost 3 am, and the world is quiet. As quiet as a city can be. The walk to L-corp is nerve-wracking, every little sound had Kara looking over her shoulder. Street lights glow yellow and it throws the world into a surreal alternate reality as Kara makes her way between the light and shadows. When Kara approaches the looming shadow of the L-corp building, Lena directs Kara towards an underground garage where Lena’s own personal entrance will be.

“It has a handprint scan, how is that supposed to work?” Kara asks when she approaches the shiny plate next to the door.

“There is an override code. Just don’t mess it up. There are no retries before security is alerted. Ready?”

Kara swallows hard and nods.

“Okay. It’s long. 31415926535897932384” Lena says the numbers just slow enough for Kara to input each one of them. When the last number is imputed, the light turns green and the door slides open for Kara to step through. She makes her way down the short hallway towards the elevator doors.

“How in the world do you have that number memorized?” Kara asks in amazement.

Lena gives her a surprised look. “It's the first twenty digits of pi.”

“You have the first twenty digits of pi memorized?” Kara asks with disbelief.

“I have the first 100 digits memorized,” Lena says smugly.

“Wow, your brain is so attractive,” Kara says.

Lena blushes. “That is not normally a compliment I get about attractiveness.”

“Well, it should be. Okay, next code?”

“8822672”

The elevator dings open almost immediately and Kara steps in. “Floor 33” Lena reminds Kara of the lab floor.

“What does that code mean then?” Kara asks as the elevator ascends.

“Radium. The element that Madam Curie helped discover. It’s the atomic number, weight, period number, and group.”

“So really are a geek under all that genius.” Kara smiles at Lena.

“You really have no idea. Are you sure you still want to have dinner with me?” Lena smiles back.

“More than ever,” Kara says seriously. The door dings open on an empty hallway.

They continue like that through four more doors until Kara and Lena are standing in the still broken lab. The papers and glass on the floor had been cleaned up, but the window was still cracked and the work stations were disrupted. Lena quickly makes her way towards the machine, passing right through a table turned on its side.

“Shit, they took my laptop. It’s probably up in the CEO’s office, knowing Jess. There is another elevator directly up at the other side of the room. Come on.” Lena is on a mission now. Moving quickly, Kara follows. Worry knaws at Kara as she notices Lena not looking as solid as she had before. Lena is running out of time.

“12101815, it’s the birth date of Ada Lovelace. She was considered the first computer programmer, before computers were invented.” Lena tells Kara, unprompted, as Kara inputs the code into the elevator.

“Wait, before computers were invented? How?” Kara asks while getting in the elevator.

“She made an algorithm for Charles Babbage’s proposed analytical engine. Way ahead of their times and current technology.”

“Wow. Like how do you even think like that? It’s like trying to describe a color that no one else can see.”

“It is. But that’s how we advance in technology. People pushing the boundaries of imagination.”

The elevator doors ding softly open. Kara steps into Lena’s large and spacious office. It’s dark, the only lights far below in the streets of the city. The buildings out the massive windows are mostly dark. Soft white carpet pads Kara’s footfalls. The moonlight reflects off the white surfaces that fill the office. A large desk with an even larger chair sits in front of the windows.

“Quick, we need to turn off the alarm. There, by the door. 10241993”

“What’s that number?” Kara asks as she quickly steps towards the control panel. The digital screen counting down to the alarm going off.

“It’s actually, well, my birthday.” Lena lets out a small, uncertain laugh, “I know you are not supposed to do that, but really, if people get this far I don’t know if the last password will stop them.”

“It’s good to know you are human enough to use your own birthday.” Kara smiles over her shoulder at her phantom before inputting the code.

A loud buzz sounds and the screen flashes red as the code is denied. The timer hits zero. Nothing happens in the office. “Shit.” Lena has behind Kara, “Jess must have changed this passcode. Quick, find the laptop. Security has been alerted and we have about three minutes. It’s probably in the wall safe. 08241995. Jess’s birthday. I doubt she would have changed that.”

Kara does as she is told and it works. The paper light laptop is there and Kara grabs it, bolting for the elevator. Once inside it starts to descend, then it jets to a halt.

“You have been detained. Security is on its way. Do not resist.” comes a deep voice through the speaker.

“Override it with that keypad. 06262015” Lena shouts.

“Legalized marriage?” Kara asks as she inputs it.

“Yes, but I can’t explain them all to you.”

Kara sees stress etched into Lena’s face and it seems to be making it harder for Lena to stay present. She flickers in and out of focus. Her voice sounds muffled and far away. Kara watches her until the door opens and rushes to turn on the lights and set up the laptop and inputs another code that Lena gives her.

It’s a frantic rush of connecting cables and turning dials. Kara’s hands are shaking from nervousness. The computer seems to take forever to call up the program that Lena had been using to run the machine. Kara can hear shouting out in the hall. Quickly she begins to push overturned work tables to the door, even pilling chairs on top of them, anything to keep the security out. Kara Rushed back to Lena to start setting dials on the machine to where they should be.

“Good, That should do it. Now just hit ‘run’ on the program. It will take a mi—” Lena’s voice was getting softer and softer and then suddenly Kara can’t hear her anymore. Kara could see through Lena now. Time was running out.

In the silence, a phone rings. Kara jumps and stares at the phone mounted to the wall. It rings into the stillness and Kara finds herself walking towards it to answer.

“Kara! Kara! What are you doing? How are you doing this?” Somehow, it’s Alex. Alex is calling Kara on the L-corp lab phone. Which means, Alex is in the building. There is a loud thumping at the lab door and angry shouts.

“I have to do this, Alex. I have to save her. I knew I wasn’t crazy. How are you here?”

“They called the FBI and my director called me! What are you talking about? Kara? How did you get so far past security?”

“Lena. She's helping me to bring her back. Now, I have to finish this.”

“Do not turn that machine on! It will kill you too!”

“It won’t. It will bring her back.”

“ No it won’t! Kar—”

Kara hangs up the phone on her sister.

“Kara.” It's a whisper now, Lena’s voice. Barely louder than a breath.

It moves Kara forward. Lena is almost gone and only Kara can save her. Kara starts the program and waits. It’s just like her dream. The machine starts up, light begins to build until it is so bright that Kara has to turn away.  The noise becomes deafening. Then, with the shattering of the window, silence falls. Kara thinks she might have blacked out for a moment because she is on the floor. The lights are out again which means there was probably another power outage. When Kara sits up, she sees Lena. For real. Slumped over in front of the machine, the dark head begins to move and sit up. A pale hand presses against a temple and Lena groans.

“Lena!” Kara cries and scrambles to the scientist's side.

“Kara?” Lena responds horseley.

“I’m here,” Kara reaches out and places a hand on Lena’s arm. It’s solid and warm. Kara smiles. “And you are here too.”

“I’m… here. Really here?” Lena is still processing.

“Yes.”

Loud bangs resound from the door to the room. It happens again as Kara helps Lena to her feet. With a loud groan and the splintering of wood, the door is broken down and big burly men rush into the room and pause as they find Kara with Lena’s arm thrown over her shoulder.

“Kara!” Alex cries as she rushes in after the men, Kelly right on her heels, followed by Jess.

Jess gasps as she takes in the sight of her employer and friend. “Lena!” Jess bursts into tears as she pushes a man aside to get to the CEO.

“Hey Jess,” Lena says softly, and is nearly knocked off her feet as Jess wraps her in a tight embrace. Kara steps away to let them have a moment. Jess is crying into Lena’s shoulder and Kara thinks Lena might be too but she can't tell as she is squeezed into her own hug with her sister.

“Don’t you ever do something that stupid again!” Alex practically yells in Kara’s ear. Kara feels another pair of arms as Kelly joins them.

“Sorry, but I am not planning on being haunted by a scientist again.”

“So you weren't going crazy?” Alex asks

“No, but I don’t blame you for thinking that.”

“But how…”

“It’s a long story that I don’t really understand myself.” Kara cuts off her sister's question.

There is shuffling on the far side of the room as security seems uncertain what to do. They were coming in to detain a criminal but now that criminal has somehow brought their employer back from the dead and there were now a lot of tears. A throat clears and Lena seems to pull herself together instantly.

“You may all return to your posts. I will fill out a report and submit it to the chief of security. As you can see, there is no break in here. Just the CEO accessing the office after hours with her friend.”

There are some protests and grumbling but a look from Lena silences the men and they file out of the room, one by one. Finally the women are alone and everyone looks to Lena.

“How is this possible?” Jess asks Lena.

“I don’t know everything, but something happened when I started up the machine and the field of transportation was expanded and I was affected as well. Then I was stuck in this between state and somehow anchored to the pen that Kara here stole,” Lena pauses to raise a pointed eyebrow at Kara, “I could communicate with her, then, and she was able to come here and reset the machine to bring me back to this plane of existence. But it took a bit to figure all that out and Kara here thought she was being haunted.”

“Well, wouldn’t you when someone writes ‘Help Me’ on your bathroom mirror and creepily starts music playing and knocks things over?” Kara defends herself.

“Of course you did that.” Jess rolls her eyes at her friend's antics.

“When there are a few times you can solidly touch things, you have to take advantage.”

“But, my program?” Kelly asks.

“That I can’t really explain, except it put Kara’s mind into a more open state so it was easier to contact her. I think it just appeared as a glitch in the system. Look, this is all science that is even beyond me and I’m going to have to study it. I don’t have answers right now except that I don’t think it was an accident. The settings I had Kara replicate weren’t the ones I originally set.”

“It wasn’t an accident,” Kara says softly, yet surely.

All four women’s heads turn to her. “How do you know?” Lena asks.

“A dream. I was watching you. You were setting up your test. While your back was turned and the experiment was running, I saw a shadow come in through the door. I couldn’t make much out, but then I saw a hand turn that dial,” Kara points towards the black knob, “then everything went to shit and the light got so bright I couldn’t see and woke up.”

Lena nods slowly, “That’s the one that was off. But I used the program to replicate the last settings.”

“Who could have known you were here and running tests?” Jess asks.

“I don’t know. I had even told you I had gone home.”

“I know.” Jess deadpans. “And I will never believe that lie again.”

Lena rolls her eyes. “And after I told you that, I… canceled my flight to meet with... shit…”

“Meet with who?” Kara asks.

“Max Lord.” Jess finishes.

“He knew the premise of the project because he tried to beat me to copyrights. I won, though. We were meeting about another project but when I canceled he must have figured I was close to a breakthrough. That would be bad for him.”

“How so?” Kara asks.

“Because he runs very shady import and export businesses in third world countries and this machine would bypass a lot of that. It would allow me to send medicine and food directly to those in need.”

“Cutting down on his profits,” Alex says, deep in thought.

“Exactly.”

“Do you have any proof of this?” the FBI agent asks.

“Oh, yes. I have been compiling it for a while. It's not airtight, but it may be enough for an arrest.”

“Perfect. Let me make some calls.” Alex grins.

[prettieparker86]

There’s A Woman…

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x Reader (sort of), Arthur Shelby x Reader (sort of)

Warning: Mentions of loss and abuse

See below for additional chapters

Gif Credit: @peakypeaky & @kendaspntwd Thank you for letting me use your beautiful gifs for my crazy stories.

Note: Please Read – As some of you know I had a bout of insomnia last night and this is what I wrote at 4am. I debated not posting it at all. It’s just a one-shot, Imagine style. I’m not sure what this is. It’s probably garbage, but this is what happens when you can’t sleep… Just the deranged ramblings of an exhausted mind. 

I have no idea if any of this is factually accurate for the time period. Again, written in the haze of no sleep. I tried to verify my assumptions of girls getting married in their teens to avoid going into the system, I’ve heard of it happening in the US, but I couldn’t verify it for 1920′s UK. Oh and I feel like the reader is young in this, somewhere like 19-20.

If you enjoy it, like, comments, and reblogs are always appreciate.

Wrapped in your quiet cocoon, the fabric’s soft like a distant memory of better days as it envelopes you. The heat of your body held tight beneath the blanket, warming your skin from the inside out. The room is cold, the air around your face frigid as you burrow your nose deeper against the blanket. The sound of rain on the window lulls your mind as you dose in and out, unsure if it’s sleep or the whiskey that keeps pulling your under.

With a shift and creak, the heat changes around you, filling on one side, escaping from another. The chill from the wall reaches out for you back, poking and prodding at your spine as you reach for the warmth in front of you, seeking it out unconsciously. It’s warm and toasty, soft to the touch as you nuzzle your nose against it. The musky scent of whiskey and gun power winds tendrils up your nose as your lips part and you breathe it in.

“Vera,” The sound of your name fills the room, off a breath that’s low and gritty and muffled from sleep.

But you recognize it even in the haze of your own mind as the softness bleeds to subtle as he turns in towards you.

Your eyes flutter open and meet the most startling blue eyes you’ve ever gazed upon lying beside you. Even now, after years of seeing them, sometimes they can be so enchanting, so bewitching, they leave you frozen under their spell as you gaze into their mighty grip. He stares back you, barely blinking as if you’re all he can see in the dark.

“I did it again?” You whisper softly to him. No need for volume when he’s lying this close.

You squeeze your eyes tightly shut, trying to remember how you got here as Tommy’s heavy breath fills the air around you once again, only further away this time as he turns from you.

“Yeah, ya did.” He states flatly. You’re eyes shoot back open as you hear a knock on the wall above your head.

You stare at the sharp line of his jaw as Tommy stares up at the ceiling lying beside you, thinking the line of it looks as dangerous as the razors on his cap.

“Found her, Arthur!” Tommy hollers to the room over as he gives the wall one more steady knock, the sound echoing against your face as you cringe from the sheer volume of it.

Resigned to leaving your warm safe place, you kick back the blankets as the feel of cold frigid air assaults you on contact, sending gooseflesh forming against your skin, hair standing on end, your breasts tingling against the chill as a shiver runs down your spine. Your night gown offering little in the form of resistance against the brutal winter nights.

Your head still feels foggy, swaying and shifting like a boat on rocky seas. Surely, it’s the whiskey. A Shelby now, you drink often and plenty, but tonight seemed especially plentiful. You lost track after your fifth glass of whiskey.

You’re not even sure what drew you in here this time, the urge unclear and hazy in your mind. You spot a glass of water on the table beside Tommy’s bed and think perhaps you had gotten up for it only to return to the wrong spot. Poised to move and return to your bed, you place your hands unceremoniously on Tommy’s chest to balance yourself before swinging your leg over him as he lets out a groan in protest. 

You could have climbed off at the end of the bed you suppose, but this was the fastest way out, and at this time of night and whiskey on your brain, added work just seemed unnecessary. You aim to brace your knee against the mattress on the other side of Tommy as you climb off, but the bed’s smaller than you considered and he’s lying against the edge.

You’re clumsy from sleep and had far too much whiskey, and you realize your miscalculation a little too late, as your leg falls off the side of the bed, toes landing on the icy floorboard as you sink down on top of Tommy’s waist.

“Fuck sake, Vera!” Tommy growls through clenched teeth, shooting up in bed with the feel of you on top of him, but as he rises, you slip down his body and settle across his lap. 

The sudden jerk in position throws you off balance as you try to climb off him. Too quick for the whiskey to catch up with as you sway, about to topple onto the floor in a heap before Tommy snatches your waist and you quickly clutch at his shoulders trying to steady yourself and not land face first on the frigid hardwood floor.

Your eyes meet and for a second your swallowed up by endless blue. Your hearts racing though you’re not sure if it’s from the near fall or the depths of Tommy’s eyes staring into your soul. A shiver runs down your spine, but you can’t be sure whether it stirs from the chill in the air or your precarious position. 

Hands clutching at his shoulders as his arms wrap around your waist, breasts pressed against the heat of his chest, your night gown pooled high around your thighs as you teeter straddled across his lap. Stuck between the chill of the room and the heat between your bodies, holding you captive with the grip of his eyes as the steady rhythm of his breath against your lips calms your rattle.

You search his eyes boldly in the near darkness. Searching for the young man he had been before. Always laughing about something, talking on about his dream to race horses, and always getting into mischief of one kind or another. But you can’t find that young man in the eyes staring back at you, not anymore. Sliced open and bleeding after Greta, all traces ripped clean from his bones after the war. He looks at you in a way that’s hard to read. 

So guarded and trained in neutrality, he’s hard to define. But you see something in his eyes that reminds you of yourself. Of loss, anger, and transformation, from the girl before her mother passed to the one you are today. You swear you see a piece of yourself in him, like looking in a mirror. Everyone’s intimidated by Tommy these days, but not you – you know what real monsters look like. He’s like a riddle waiting to be solved, though you’re quite certain it’s not yours to unravel. And for all his sharp edges and unpredictable moods, you still trust him, even now.

The sound of a throat clearing catches both your attention as your gaze shoots to the sound, you find Arthur leaning against the doorframe watching you and Tommy silently. There’s something in his eyes, something you almost never see and it’s not aimed at you, it’s aimed squarely at Tommy, but you recognize it just the same, tangled up as you are… Men and their cocks never cease to amaze you.

“Don’ be fuckin’ ridiculous,” you scoff, pushing off Tommy to swing your other leg over and climb off him. You know what it looks like, you’re not a fucking fool, but the idea it could be anything other than a misunderstanding was absurd to you.

“Get your wife, Arthur.” Tommy insists as he practically lifts you off him. Unable to get rid of you fast enough as you nearly trip again from the momentum and whiskey, falling against Arthur’s waiting arms.

Wife – the word is always jarring when you hear it. No one in the Shelby home calls you that, but Thomas and you still haven’t figure out why. Arthur’s wife, but only in name. Anyone sensible knows that. He married you at fifteen in a hasty ceremony done only to save your life. Arthur is many things to you - hero, protector, confidant, friend, but husband still isn’t one that fits, and luckily for you, he doesn’t expect it to.

Your father died in a factory accident when you were ten. Your mother was a good friend of Polly’s, you grew about around the Shelby’s. After she passed of consumption, Polly took you under her wing. Until the parish authorities came calling shortly after the funeral, taking to you stay with the fathers until they could locate your next of kin. 

You lasted a month there, before you managed to run away. Returning to the only place you felt safe anymore. You had been frantic and desperate, you couldn’t go back. They would come for you, Polly knew they would as they had her own children, but she had no legal claim to you. So she devised the only plan she could muster on such little time, in the whirlwind of your desperation… Marriage.

If you were married they’d have no way to take you. You’d be property of your husband. While John was the closest in age, he was already married to Martha. Tommy was out of the question as he languished at Greta dying bedside. That left only Arthur. A man thirteen years your senior, he refused at first, but when confronted with what they had done, what they would continue to do, and Polly’s word they’d figure something out later, he agreed. You weren’t easily convinced either, but Polly told you it was the only way and you couldn’t go back there.

You got lucky with Arthur. He let you know right away he had no desire for you and after leaving the care of the father’s, you needed to hear that. He said he’d appreciate if you helped Polly out around the house, but he no expectation of you ever entering his bed. You never even shared a room before he left for the war, bunking with Ada instead. 

That’s how you ended up falling in love with Tommy’s bed. Having free reign of the rooms once the men left, you and Ada tried them all, and Tommy’s fit just right. It had this little divot in the old tick mattress that fit you just right. You could wrap the blankets around yourself and curl into it like a swaddled baby. You felt safe and warm there. You freely relinquished it when the men came home, but it still calls to you from time to time.

When the men came back from war, you were a woman - a young woman, but a woman just the same. And things felt different between you and the Shelby brothers. Different then the way they saw and treated the scared girl left behind. Still Arthur never pressed you, keeping his word. It was unspoken he could get his needs met anywhere he pleased as long he kept you safe and taken care of. After the war, you shared a bed, but he never touched you unless you reached for him first. 

And nearly five years married, home from the war almost six months, you had never consummated the vow. Arthur Shelby was many things to you, but husband never quite seemed like one of them. But you did love him. You loved them all, even Tommy and his unpredictable moods and antagonistic jabs. So when Arthur offered to let you go, you declined. This was your family, where you wanted to be. You think maybe one day you’d like to give him a baby. You know he wants one and he certainly deserves it, but you don’t desire any of that now. Not sure you ever will. You still feel like damaged goods. You don’t know what the future holds, but you feel certain this is where you belong.

“Easy there, I got ‘cha.” Arthur tells you, slipping an arm under your legs to scoop you up like a bride.

“I got lost. Think I had too much whiskey.” You explain to him, leaning into the warmth of his chest, your face burrowing into the curve of his neck.

“That’s a’right. Let’s get ya back to bed, little lady.” Arthur tells you, holding you close with care. That’s what he calls you, not wife, sometimes Vera, but mostly ‘little lady’, has since you were small.

“Gotta stop doin this, Vera.” Tommy’s calls with impatience as Arthur carries you back to your bed.

“Night Tommy.” You answer, already half lost to the throws of sleep.

Once you’re gone, Tommy turns to his dresser to retrieve his pipe, unrolling it carefully. He plucks a bit of tar between his fingers, rolling and pinching until he has it just right. He burns just the outer edge of it, the sweet medicine crackling lightly under the flame, before he places it at the edge of his pipe. Drawing his lips to one end, he brings the other to the flame, letting it crackle and burn as he breathes in relief. 

Just enough to quiet the nerves and endlessness of his mind. Placing the pipe down carefully on the desk beside his bed, Tommy rolls against the mattress, his body seeking out the heated spot you left under the blanket. His face burying against the pillow that had rested beneath your head as he breathes you in deeply, letting images of you mix and dance with the opium as he closes his eyes to drift away.

Part 2 part 5

[caliamyourrightfulkingcalore]

Untitled - a Marecal fic, Chapter 4

It’s here! I had to cut this chapter in half because it was just too long. But the moment we’ve all been waiting for is so, so close! Enjoy!

WAR STORM SPOILERS BELOW

I wake up to the sound of birds chirping outside my window. I don’t have to open my eyes to know I’ve slept in. Still, I lay on my bed for a couple more minutes relishing the aches in my bones as I stretch my already sore body.

I open my eyes and the sky from my window is the first to greet me. It takes a while for them to adjust. I’m not used to waking up to the blindingly, bright blue skies. I sit up, trying to find any hint of what time it is, but even Gisa is not in her bed.

I glance around the room and something in the corner of my eye catches my attention. I look over to the brown nightstand separating our beds. There lay an off white envelope with my name stamped elegantly on it. I hesitate before I reach for the letter. No indication of who it may have come from. I turn it over and notice the wax seal used to enclose the envelope. Ruby red in color with only the letter “N” in bold, cursive lettering stamped on it. My mind tries to unravel who might’ve sent this, but I come up empty. For a long while, I sit on my bed undecided about opening the letter.

Of course I’ve gotten letters before. From Cameron back in New Town, from Ada in south Montfort overlooking the newbloods training program, from Kilorn when he goes for fishing trips, and countless ones from Davidson and Farley. But something about this letter sets me on edge and I find myself unreasonably nervous.

I put the letter down and walk over to our connecting bathroom. I decide taking a hot bath is more important. I am glad for the distraction. I reach over to turn on the faucet, the sound of running water already calming my nerves. I pick up one of Gisa’s many bath bombs, red and purple in color. It smells like musky lavender and vanilla with traces of fruitiness. I throw it in the tub and watch as the water turns into plum red with hints of violet. I take a deep breath as its scent fills the bathroom.

I force my muscles to relax under the soothing hot water. It is much easier than trying to quiet my brain. I close my eyes, evening my breaths as I try to sway my mind away from the letter awaiting my return.

I don’t succeed.

I quickly drain the tub of its water and finish washing up. Careful to stand, I grab my towel from the rack holding it.

I walk towards the sink. My things scattered along the counter. Such a contrast to the neat and orderly of Gisa’s side. I make a mental note to organize my side later.

Wiping the haze from the mirror, I stare at my reflection. The difference a sufficient amount of sleep and food makes is astounding. My cheeks are fuller. My skin beginning to tan into a golden brown. My hair longer, still with hints of faded purple covering its lower half. And my eyes, the most drastic of all. No longer haunted by the hollows of war and terror.

The memories remain though. No matter how hard I try to keep it away, it always finds a way to emerge. This is what war does to people, I tell myself. It happened to dad, my brothers, Farley, Cal. I guess I’ll just have to keep finding ways to tolerate it.

“It never gets easier,” I hear Cal’s voice in mind, however faint it may be. Still, it comforts me. He warned me of the implications war brings, tried to protect me from it. But I remained loyal to my cause, no matter the cost. I learned to fight. To survive. And if anything, I am glad for that.

I begin to braid my hair as my mind fights off the lingering memories of my past. I focus on the purple of my hair. A constant reminder of who I am. What I am capable of. Both a gift and a curse. A comfort and a fright.

-

I make my way back to our bedchamber. Back to the piece of parchment sitting on my bed. I tell myself there’s nothing to be afraid of. It is just a letter after all. And after minutes of contemplation, I finally open the envelope.

I am met with achingly familiar cursive, words so delicately written. My heart quickens and I am suddenly so aware of its every beat, it’s almost unbearable.

I am afraid to touch it.

But my fingertips brush over the words knowing it’s his.

Mare,

           When I envisioned my first words to you in almost a year, this was not it. And quite frankly, I am still very much contemplating sending this. But I’ve ran out of excuses after today.

          Norta is officially announcing its democratic innovations in the upcoming weeks and it’s meant to be a celebration of sorts. To display unity, commitment, and promise.

           I am lost in all this. More than I care to admit. But you are the answer to all my questions, the reasoning behind my judgment. You continue to change my being from a thousand miles away. It is times like these that I ache for your presence.

           I would be grateful for your company.

Yours faithfully,                                                                                                    Cal

P.S.: The mountains of Montfort suit you.                                                          You look wonderful.

I can’t hear myself think over the thunderous beat of my heart. Treacherous thing, I think to myself as it refuses to ease.

I read the letter once again, and then thrice more until I’ve memorized every word in it. The latter part of it sending my stomach fluttering in the way only he can. My cheeks are fuming red; I can tell by the way they feel. They also start to ache, because I’m smiling like I’ve never smiled before.

Yours faithfully. I shiver at the implication but I don’t let myself hope. I haven’t heard from him in nearly a year. Who knows what else has changed.

Lost in his words, I almost forget the second letter beneath his. A formal invitation to Norta. Instead of the Burning Crown adorning its letterhead, it is the “N” that stands out, similar to the one on the wax seal. N for Norta. A small change, albeit an important one. A statement.

I had decided last night that I would go back. But I didn’t expect it to be so soon. Of course I’m not obligated to say yes. But half of me has a hard time believing this is all a coincidence.

I sit on the edge of my bed for much longer than I anticipated. Gisa walks in with rolls of fabric in her hands. She stops short when she sees me. I can see her wondering eyes, but my sister doesn’t ask any questions. She simply nods my way, letting me know she’s there to listen if I want to speak.

“What time is it?” I ask her to break the silence.

“An hour past noon” she replies as she makes her way to her bed.

“You let me sleep for that long?”

“No one wanted to wake you” my sister explains, “you’re always up before dawn, we figured you were tired if you didn’t wake up on time.”

My family, ever so considerate. I let the last of her sentence hang in the air before I whisper so softly Gisa barely hears. “I’m going back to Norta”.

“I’m sorry, did you just say you were going somewhere” she asks, her brows beginning to furrow as she tries to understand what I said.

“To Norta” I say, louder this time. It makes it more real when I say it aloud.

I expected my sister to be surprised, a little angry even but she just stares at me knowingly. My sister was always mature for her age, but I can’t help but think something else makes her understand – someone else rather.

“I’m not going to stop you if that’s what you’re thinking” Gisa says. She can read me like an open book. “It’s something you need to do, Mare. I’m actually glad you’re coming to terms with it.”

“You are?” I ask.

“Yes. Maybe then you’d stop moping over him” she teases.

My jaw drops in shock, but I start to laugh “I do not” I yell back at her.

“You do” she smiles, the corners of her eyes beginning to wrinkle.

“You’re old enough to make your own decisions. Just be careful,” she says more seriously this time.

“Will you come with me?” I ask walking towards her. “You can even bring what’s-her-name” I give her a nudge.

She laughs noisily this time “her name is none of your business, and I would’ve said yes even without her company” my sister says. “I’ve been wanting to go back home for a while now.”

Home. My mind lingers on the word.

But isn’t this her home? I think to myself.

Then I remember someone once told me that home is not a place, but a feeling. Of belonging, of security, of unconditional love. I wonder, is there still a home for me in Norta?

Marecal reunion coming up y’all. I apologize if it takes longer than usual. I want the moment to be perfect so I’m being really meticulous with it. Let me know your thoughts!

[radreactions]

I love your blog❤so I want to ask how Companions would react to Sole being badly injured & passing out of all the pain😊

Thanks a bunch!

Sole and their companion are in a gruelling firefight with a horde of supermutants from which Sole gets hit hard by a super sledge. The adrenaline keeps them going until they and their companion kill off the last remaining mutants, but just as their companion is walking towards them to see if they’re okay, Sole suddenly drops…

Ada – Immediately ploughs through everything standing between her and her dear friend Sole, not bothering to say anything in favour of diverting all systems to checking Sole’s vitals and administering medical aid. But when she realises they’ve just feinted, she literally picks up a paint can and throws it as hard as she possibly can at a wall because holy hell the scared the absolute heck out of her! She was not aware they had a habit of feinting! What are they trying to do to her, short circuit her systems!? Ohhh she’ll be giving them a stern – but relieved – talking to when they wake up, that’s for damn sure.

Cait – “Oh shite!” She sprints to them, fear coursing through her veins as she just barely manages to catch them in her arms before they hit the ground. “Come on, stay with me Sole. Ya still owe me a fuckin’ beer and I ain’t lettin’ ya get away with it.” She lays them down as gently as she can, her heart pounding painfully as she feels for a pulse at their throat. She breathes a heavy sigh when she finds one and tilts her head up towards the sky, cradling her unconscious asshole of a friend tightly to her chest. “Goddammit.” She doesn’t know whether she wants to punch them or hug them or both, but as she gazes down at them with all sorts of curses on the tip of her tongue, the brawler can’t describe how impossibly relieved she is that they simply feinted.

Codsworth – When Sole hit the ground, the handybot experienced the second moment of terror he’s ever truly felt in his entire life. The first was when the bombs fell, when he couldn’t find his family’s remains out in the fallout, but now? With Sole laying so still right in front of him? “S-sir/m-mum?” Immediately he scans for signs of life, lowering his hull closer to the ground so that he could hold their hand in his pincer. If not for their comfort, but for his. When he discovers a present – although elevated – heartbeat, Codsworth chuckles to himself lightly. “You always did have a flare for exaggeration, didn’t you, sir/mum?”

Curie – She knew what was happening even before Sole hit the ground. A physical trauma like being hit with a sledgehammer could do catastrophic damage to a person, but Sole was hit with a super sledge and even though they were wearing heavy armour that no doubt saved their life, the pain from such an injury would be of the utmost severity liable to causing blackouts. Even though she knew this, even though she had extensive medical training that she believed in with all her heart, Curie couldn’t help but scream when Sole hit the pavement. She ran to them in a flash, immediately checking them all over for an injury that perhaps she didn’t see, that perhaps the blow had broken their rib or sternum. She found none of course, but instead realised it was difficult for her to see. Tears. It was tears. She was crying and she couldn’t seem to stop. She still cries when Sole wakes up, but that’s for a whole new reason.

Dogmeat – He barks hysterically as he watches them fall, helpless to stop it as he bounds over the debris between them and him. Panting, ears back and whining softly, he nudges their hand, then their cheek and stares down at them intently. Are they playing dead? But that’s his trick! And this is surely an odd spot for a nap! Being the good boy that he is, he resigns himself to laying over Sole’s torso, taking comfort in the feeling of their chest rising and falling beneath his own as he watches their surroundings. Hopefully, Sole will wake up soon…

Danse – Immediately, the Paladin barrelled through everything between him and Sole just to get them, jabbing a stimpak into them before checking anything else. His eerie silence was born of shock, dread and guilt for letting them get hurt while in his company, but he finally broke that silence when he realised from the fluttering of their eyes and their lack of wounds that they had simply fainted. “You…” He couldn’t find the right words, just shaking his head and taking in a deep breath. He stared off into the distance for a moment, pondering just what could have happened, before snapping out of it with a relieved sigh. “You are going to have a very stern talking to when we get back to the station, soldier.”

Deacon – “Uhhh, Sole? Now’s not the time to take a nap!” On the inside, he’s chanting ‘no, no, no’ while he’s rushing to them, already feeling the heavy weight of dread and guilt in his chest. He should’ve been paying better attention, he should’ve been there at their side when the big bastard attacked. “Sole?” Their pulse was strong and their breathing – although elevated – seemed unhindered. A fainting spell. That’s all it was. It made him chuckle for a good few minutes in relief. “Oh man, whew. Thank Atom. You know, you had me worried there for a second, Sole. No one can make sweetrolls like you and I’d hate to have to go without them.”

Gage – “Aw shit.” His words didn’t portray his panic as he quickly made his way over to them, grumbling under his breath at how careless they were in battle and that they should know better by now that to try to go toe to toe with the big green ones. He knew it wasn’t their fault, but he needs someone to take it out on now that the damn mutie that hit them is dead. “Overboss?” He nudges their shoulder with a boot and actually smirks when they grumble in annoyance, still unconscious. “Dammit, boss. Now just how in the hell am I supposed to carry your ass back to Fizztop Grille, huh?” As annoyed as he sounds, he’s actually quite relieved more than anything.

Hancock – Because he was high on Jet, he saw the whole damn thing in what felt like slow motion. In one second Sole was standing victorious over the corpses of their enemies, but in the next? Sole was dropping to the ground like a sack of rotten tatos. “Sole!” He couldn’t get to them fast enough, or at least it felt that way anyway with limbs that felt like lead. He tried to remember all the things he’d learned in his life about first aid when he finally reached their side, panting because he knew he couldn’t remember enough in order to save Sole’s life their injuries were serious. So imagine his relief when he found no blood, no bones poking out of flesh or melted skin or even a simple damn scratch! “You can’t seriously be asleep right now, Sole.” Their gentle snoring was enough to both comfort him and enough to make him throw up his hands in fond frustration. “Unbelievable.”

MacCready – “Holy sh-SOLE!” Fear nestles in his belly, crawls up his chest and throat before it spills over in the form of a choked sop as he runs to them. “Sole you better not be dead or I swear to God I’ll-” He stops ranting for a split second as he feels their heartbeat and sees their fluttering eyes, recognising the same sort of look that Squirrel had from Little Lamplight when he fainted almost daily. “Oh you fu-are you serious? Did you seriously just up and faint like that?” He grumbles under his breath for a few minutes after sitting back on his haunches, his hand on his forehead, both relieved and a little peeved off that they had him worry because of something so harmless. Shaking his head, he looks at Sole and chuckles quietly before settling in to watch over them.

Maxson – When he sees Sole drop, he gets angry beyond all reason and he slams those giant fists down on the ground. Rumour has it that windows shattered in Diamond City and a whole section of Lexington came crashing down, just from the shock of it. When Sole finally wakes up, it’s to the sight of a stimpak still sticking out of their arm and whole area covered in the dead bodies of every remaining super mutant in a three block radius. In the centre of it all stands Maxson, still covered in blood and toting that gatling laser like he could take on another thousand muties without breaking a sweat.

Nick Valentine – He’s always been aware of what fear felt like. He remembers how Nick felt when he first heard about what happened to Jenny before her death was officially confirmed by the coroner, but seeing Sole drop like that? That was the first time the synthetic Nick actually felt such terror and to say he didn’t know how to handle it is an understatement. Nothing short of another atomic bomb could’ve stopped him from getting to Sole so quickly and the relief he felt when he found their strong pulse was so overwhelming that he felt the urge to cry. If there was any way that he actually could, he knows he would’ve right then and there. But Sole doesn’t have to know that, and when they wake up he’ll be sure to inform them just how much he disapproves of their reckless behaviour.

Old Longfellow – He himself damn near fell over in his hurry to get to them. Those old bones of his weren’t meant for that kind of punishment, nor was his old ticker that was beating erratically in his chest as he hesitantly felt for a pulse at their neck. He didn’t realise he’d come to care so much about Sole until now, until the moment when he realised they weren’t nearly as invulnerable as they made him believe. “Oh for crying out loud, Cap’in, what are you trying to do to me here? Give me a damn heart attack? Trust my luck…” He’d be a little grouchy for a few hours after Sole wakes up, practically giving them hell for making him worry so damn much, but it was only because the old man cared for them and hated the idea that he’d ever outlive them too.

Piper Wright – “Blue? Blue no!” She screams hysterically as she see’s Sole collapse, sprinting forward with her heart in her throat and tears in her eyes. “Don’t you dare, don’t you dare!” She injects a stimpak and places her head on their chest, heedless of the tears wetting her cheeks because Sole can’t die. Not like this, not on her watch. The pulse is there, their chest is rising and falling and as she checks their ribs for any broken bones, she deflates with a heavy, relieved sigh. “Oh thank God.” She laughs through the tears upon realising that they just passed out and starts wiping away the moisture using the sleeves of her coat, feeling ridiculous for having reacted that way about something so harmless. “Dammit Blue, you scared me.” She murmurs fondly, gently placing a kiss to their forehead before she settles in to guard them.

Preston Garvey – “Oh God!” He’s panicking, his heart thudding in his chest as he sprints over to them in a matter of moments. “Sole!” He immediately injects a stimpak, breathing hard, eyes scanning their face as he gently taps their cheek with his hand. “Come on, General, come on. Wake up. Come back to me.” He stares at them, on the verge of tears and ever so thankful for the pulse he finds at their wrist, but it’s not enough. He needs to see their big beautiful eyes and heartfelt smile before he can fully relax, before he can be fully assured that they’re going to be okay. He waits diligently at their side, talking to them softly while he near constantly checks their vitals.

Strong – He gets mad because this stupid little human always trips and falls! Why are they so damn clumsy? They only have little feet! “GET UP, LEADER! STRONG NOT DONE SMASHING THINGS!” He nudges them with his foot as gentle as he can and peers down at their motionless little frame, eyes suddenly widening because – oh no. Strong lets out a roar of rage upon the assumption that his companion was killed by one of his super mutant brothers and with renewed vigor, Strong storms off with his sledgehammer in a deathgrip. Later – when Sole wakes up – Strong is found nearby smashing the corpses of the mutants that, in his eyes, killed his favourite human.

X6-88 – He’s used to restraining his emotions, but as he sees Sole drop to a heap on the ground, his normally unshakeable grip falters. “No!” He yells, running forward. His programming immediately kicks in and has him checking their pulse, their breathing, but instead of being the unflappable Courser he was meant to be, X6 is panting and on the verge of hysterics because Sole just can’t fucking die. He checks and rechecks, then breathes a short sigh of relief once determining that they only fainted. Trust Sole to make him react like this, the only person in the Commonwealth who could have the fearless Courser nearly breakdown in a matter of seconds. X6 is suddenly very thankful that no one saw his reaction and in a desperate bid to keep up his unflappable façade, he simply stands guard and pretends as though he didn’t have a near breakdown when Sole finally wakes up.

[peakyposts]

Morphine Confessions

Finn Shelby

“Is he alright?” 

Everyone in the room turned to look at you, their laughter quieting but not fully stopping. John stepped aside, letting you walk passed the crowd that surrounded the bed. 

“Y/n!” Finn exclaimed the moment his eyes landed on you, a large, dopey grin on his face, “Hello!” 

“Hello, Finn.” You could understand why everyone was laughing around him, he’d gone from being quiet to the loudest in the room., no longer trying to act like a serious adult around his older brothers. 

“He’s all fuzzy from the morphine, never had it before,” Arthur explained, “reckon he snuck some while we weren’t looking though.” Finn nodded in agreement from the bed, the smile on his face not getting any smaller. 

He’d gotten himself into a fight earlier that day, a boy twice his size had said something about not having an apatite while someone like Isaiah was sitting a meter away. Finn didn’t listen when Isaiah tried pulling him back, not realizing the consequence of standing up for his mate would be ending up bedridden for a few weeks. 

“You know, you know y/n is my best mate, Pol?” Polly smiled fondly at her nephew, last time he was so excited and talkative was back when he was still a child. “I’ve known her since I was, I was-”

“Four?” Tommy offered, chuckling at the way Finn’s head had not stopped bobbing up and down, he’d be agreeing to anything if he was asked. 

“Yes! Four!”

“Is she just your best mate?” John teased, you looked over at him, eyebrows raised, wondering what he was getting at. 

“John,” Polly warned, you looked between them, unsure of what they were implying.

“C’mon, Pol, he’ll say anything, ask him who really ate the entire tart before dinner that one Christmas, the one you beat me and Tommy for when he blamed us.” 

“It was me and y/n!” Finn said proudly. You gaped at him, a secret kept for more than half your lives and it was just gone. Polly’s eyes narrowed at him, remembering how angry she’d been when she noticed the tart was missing. You and Finn were only six, not capable of doing any harm in her eyes. She believed you the moment you both pointed fingers at his older brothers, the two of them took the blame but they hung Finn out the window for a few minutes to get back at him. “She said, she said she loved treacle, so I just, took it!” 

“And why did you just take it?” Tommy asked, he and John looked at each other, knowing what was about to happen. “Was there a special reason you took it, Finn?” 

Polly sighed and walked off, looking defeated by her nephews. Arthur followed, clapping you on the shoulder as he walked passed, leaving just you, Tommy and John in the room with Finn. Finn, who sat smiling at his brothers.

“Because she loves treac-treacle tart and I love her!” 

You always knew you and Finn were far passed friendship, he was friends with Isaiah, friends with Michael, but the combination of knowing you since you were practically babies and spending almost every waking minute together, you thought your closeness was just something that came naturally. Not because Finn Shelby fancied you! You looked between Tommy and John, both looking amused and triumphant at his declaration. 

“He just said that because he’s drugged out of his mind,” you tried reasoning. Tommy shook his head, smiling down at you like a brother who was about to give some life changing advice. He placed a hand on your shoulder, leaning down so he was face to face with you.

“You know as well as anyone, love, that Finn would blow up the fucking world for you,” he said, “the only girl he has ever told us about is you, no eighteen-year boy has ever been as faithful as that one there.” 

“It’s true,” John added from behind you, “only reason you two became friends was because he forced Ada to go see the pretty girl from the bakery.”

“Very pretty,” Finn mumbled, catching your attention again. He was dozing off on the bed, barely listening to the conversation, probably just repeating whatever it was he was hearing. “Y/n’s very pretty, prettiest girl in the world!” His brothers burst out laughing, the sight of their youngest yelling with his eyes closed apparently the funniest thing in the world. 

“C’mon, let him get some sleep,” Tommy said, guiding you out the door, “he won’t remember any of this when he wakes up, so, you can either bring it up to him or wait until he finally comes around.” You only nodded, looking over your shoulder one more time at your sleeping best friend before John shut the door. 

-

You arrived early the next morning, a tray of your mother’s cookies balanced on one hand as you knocked on the door. Polly opened it not a minute later, apron on, looking as if she’d been awake for hours. 

“Are those-”

“Not my mum’s party cookies, she’s baking a batch tomorrow I think, I’ll bring some over for you if she does.”

“You’re lovely,” she moved aside, allowing you to step in before she shut the door behind you. “Can’t wait until you’re old enough to learn to make them, by then you’ll be a Shelby, meaning we get free reign on your family recipes.” 

“I’ll be a Shelby?” You knew what she was referring to, but Finn still had to confess his feelings for the prospect of marriage to even be on the table. She shrugged, not saying anything as she continued cooking breakfast 

“Well we’re not hiding anything now that Finn declared his love to you last night.” 

“What if I didn’t love him?” She stopped working and looked back up at you, an eyebrow raised and a smirk on her face. You tried keeping yours straight, but you couldn’t help but pull your bottom lip into your mouth, biting it to try and keep your composer under her stare. 

“You’re trying to lie to me, y/n? I helped raise four liars, I can spot one from a hundred meters away, love.” 

You may not have loved Finn for as long as they all claimed he did you, but there was some point in your long friendship that you stopped looking at him like a friend. You guessed it was the day Isaiah ditched the two of you for a girl, leaving you alone to eat the basket of food your mum made while sitting by the cut. He’d said something that night, making you laugh and not stop for what felt like hours. Thinking back to it now, you remembered the look he was giving you when you finally composed yourself, it was the same look you grew up watching your father give to your mother. He covered it up by saying something against the way you laughed, in retaliation you pushed him into the water, laughing at his shocked face. He feigned the need for help to climb out but just used your arm for the leverage to pull you in with him. You had to hide under the overhang when a few coppers came around, stifling your laughter until they passed. You smiled at the memory now, and when you looked back up at Polly, she was still watching you, smirk not leaving her face.

“Go on, take this for him to eat, he’s probably awake now,” she said handing you a plate. You took it, placing a few cookies onto it as well before walking off, ignoring the knowing look she was still giving you as you did. 

You knocked once on the door, opening it when you heard a mumble from inside. He sat up at the sight of you, wincing when he did so but smiling despite the pain. 

“God, I’m starving,” he said as you placed the plate onto his lap. He instantly stuffed his mouth, moaning at the feeling of finally having food in him. You sat at the foot of his bed, crossing you legs and leaning back against the footboard, just watching him eat. “Were you around yesterday?” He asked, not looking up. He didn’t remember then, you decided, if he didn’t even know you were there he wouldn’t know what he said.

“Only for a few minutes before you fell asleep,” you said, “do you remember anything before you passed out?” 

“No, why, did I confess to the Tart Theft of 1914?” He joked, finally looking up at you. You smiled, his cheeks were full of food as he chewed.

“No, well, yes actually, got me in trouble, but that’s not what I was talking about.” He swallowed, raising his eyebrows in question, wondering what he managed to say in that state. 

“What is it then?” 

You watched him place the now empty plate on the side table, and before you could think against it, you surged forward, pushing your lips against his. As fast as you did it, you pulled away, lip caught between your teeth, waiting for his reaction. He just stared, wide eyed and frozen, unsure of what just happened.

“Uhm, what was that for?” He finally asked, but only a second later he realized, “did I say something last night? What did I say?” 

“You stole that tart because you loved me,” you said quickly. He groaned, throwing his head back until it banged against the headboard. “It’s alright, Finn,” you assured him.

“No, no it’s fucking not, you probably just kissed me because you felt like you needed to,” he spoke up to the ceiling, probably too scared to look back at you. You shook your head and moved back closer to him, being careful of his injuries as you got as close as you could. You made him look down at you, your hands staying on him when he finally was. 

“I love you too, Finn,” you confessed, “have for a couple of years.” It took a second, but his frown became a grin, not exactly like the one he was pulling the night before, but this one more on his own accord and not the side affect of his medicine. 

“Really?” You nodded, your own face breaking into a smile to match his. He lifted his hand, ignoring the wince from the movement as he placed his hand on your cheek. You kissed again, this one less hurried, less one sided, and when you finally pulled away, you just smiled until your cheeks hurt. 

“So, pretty girl from the bakery?” You teased, he chuckled and pulled you back in, kissing your forehead when he did.

“The prettiest girl in the world.” 

[crystallinecrimsonmoth]

Future Serial Killer [ongoing]

Chapter 23

Negan leaned against the wall as Rick slept on the doctor’s bed in front of him. His face was cut multiple times from Carl’s fists, his nose smashed even more with a crack through his cheekbone according to the ultrasound machine Doc had used to check him over. He was beaten and battered at the hands of his son, still breathing but he looked like a broken man laying there, dried blood covering a minority of his face.

Doc had cleaned him up for the most part and stitched the cuts, taping a few squares of gauze over the wounds, but even after an hour-long surgery to realign the fractured bones in his nose, Rick was still a wreck.

The Saviour wasn’t sure how to feel about it. On the one hand, he despised the man for calling his precious little lamb a whore, but he also knew that Carl wasn’t innocent in all of this. He’d killed one of his men, albeit with perfectly good reason, and beat his father half to death with the intention to kill him.

Rick had been unconscious for nineteen hours now since the incident. Doc had taken care of all his injuries and made him comfortable with the little pain medication that Negan would allow. It was enough so his body wouldn’t go into shock and die, but he’d still feel the beating Carl gave him. Negan wanted him to feel how upset his son was, to learn what he said to him was wrong. He wanted him to look in the mirror and see those scars every day, to remind him of the hurt he caused the teen.

Carl had come around from his killing high two hours after waking the next day, and Negan sat witness on the bed beside him as his face crumpled and he realised that he’d almost been raped, that his dad had called him a whore, and that he almost killed the man who gave him life.

All the kid’s conflicting emotions came out in a flood of tears, his face flushed red as he cried into the sleeves of Negan’s green hoodie, waves of brown hair falling in front of his face. He was shaking, shoulders trembling with the effort of letting all his feelings out, and it broke the older man’s heart.

‘It’s okay, little lamb. Let it out.’ He sighed, letting the teen bury himself in the Saviour’s chest and holding him tightly.

Carl had cried for what felt like a lifetime, fingers digging into Negan’s bare chest as he soaked his skin in the salty sadness. The soul-destroying noise only stopped when the teen cried so much that he passed out, body falling limp in Negan’s arms and slow puffs of breath spreading on his neck as the boy fell asleep.

Waiting until the kid’s entire body relaxed on him, Negan tucked Carl in under their shared bedsheets, brushing his hair away from his face and wiping away the stray teardrops on his cheek.

‘I love you, darling.’ He whispered despite the teen being unconscious, kissing his forehead before grabbing a pen and paper.

Once his note was written down, he left the room as quietly as he could, clicking the door shut and then heading out into the courtyard, needing to talk to what remained of his guards about the dwindling numbers situation.

When Carl woke up from his nap of exhaustion a little while after Negan left the room, it was still light outside. He yawned, wondering what time it was, and slowly rose from the bed, rubbing his eye. Negan wasn’t there anymore, the space on the bed beside him empty of any warm body he could cuddle into for comfort.

It left him feeling cold, the chill of the room reaching his skin and the bones underneath, as he remembered what happened the day before. The creeping, sticky wet texture of blood on his hands and face followed him, prickling his senses, and causing a shiver to run through his body. He tried to suppress it, curling his arms around his waist, and got out of bed to find clean bottoms.

He was still sleeping in his underwear at the Sanctuary, a habit Negan had given him that he had never really gotten out of. It was a way to remember he was safe there, on the fifth floor of a steel building, with stairs between him and the walkers on the ground. He didn’t need to sleep in full battle gear, he didn’t need a gun under his pillow, he didn’t need his knife on the dresser. The safety made him feel warmer too, giving him a soft, melting feeling in his chest that reminded of home. That’s what the Sanctuary was now, and the bedroom he was sitting in. He was home.

Distracting himself from sappy emotions about how comfortable he was in Negan’s bed, Carl shuffled to the dresser full of his and his boyfriend’s clothes, pulling out a fresh pair of skinny jeans. He hadn’t liked the tight trousers at first, feeling like they were too revealing when Negan got them for him, but his older lover had quickly erased those fears.

‘Kid, I grabbed you some new shit today in the shopping mall! Come see if they fit, I’ll chuck them in the community collection if they don’t.’ Negan called through into the bathroom as Carl brushed his teeth, making the teen jump out of his skin.

He hadn’t even realised Negan was home yet, humming to himself too loud to hear the door clicking open. He spat his mouthful of toothpaste into the sink and wiped his mouth before padding through on bare feet to the bedroom.

The older man was sitting there with three pairs of denim jeans, all different shades of blue, and all a lot thinner looking than the trousers Carl was used to.

That made him shake his head immediately at the sight of the new clothes.

‘No way. They won’t fit.’

‘They’re the same size as the ones you wear already, kiddo, of course, they’ll fit.’

Carl just shook his head again, going back into the bathroom to pee and leaving the door open for Negan to talk.

‘Baby, at least try them on. You might like them.’

‘They’ll be too tight.’ The teen argued, tugging his underwear down and pissing into the toilet.

A deep chuckle reached his ears from the bedroom, the sound still managing to send shivers down his spine as he peed.

‘They’re meant to be tight, darling. They’re called skinny jeans for a reason.’

‘I don’t like tight clothes.’ Carl huffed, finishing with the toilet, and tucking himself back into his boxers, wandering through to find Negan holding up the jeans to show him the length.

‘Come on, Carl, you’ll like them. You liked the shorts, didn’t you?’ He grinned, ivory teeth glimmering under the light from the window.

The teen crossed his arms, glaring at the denim trousers and his boyfriend for a moment before snatching them out of his hands, sitting down on the bed and tugging them over his legs. Once he’d pulled them up and buttoned the waist, he looked down, grimacing at how visible the fat on his thighs was under the tight fabric.

He’d never wanted to show off his legs, always feeling like no matter how little rations he ate, the blubber on his thighs never went away. It had started stressing him out when he was fifteen, and only got worse from there, so he always wore baggy trousers. The only exception was the shorts because at least he could hide his thighs under Negan’s hoodies.

‘They look brilliant on you, darling.’ His boyfriend’s arms found his waist and Carl hesitated a little, taking a minute to calm down about the image of his thighs before accepting that Negan loved them.

Negan loved every inch of Carl; he’d made that much clear. He had to keep remembering that.

‘Thanks, Neeg…’ He finally murmured into the quiet of the room, hugging Negan’s arms that circled him.

Once he was dressed up and decent to go outside, Carl headed out of the bedroom, locking it behind him just in case.

‘Afternoon.’ The guard posted outside of their room tipped his hat to him, making him frown somewhat.

Since when did the guards say hi to him…

Brushing it off, he smiled at the man he knew as Adrian, giving him a shy wave before wandering downstairs. The hub was lively that day, lots of Saviours bustling around and laughing with each other. It was comforting, Carl thought, much more social than Alexandria had been. He liked that.

‘Scarface, heads up!’ He whipped around to see an apple flying at his head, managing to catch it just in time and smiling at Daniel and Ada when they approached him from the other side of the hall, another apple in Daniel’s hand.

‘Are we throwing apples at each other to communicate now?’ He smiled gently at the other boy who just grinned at him, biting into the fruit he was holding and wiping his mouth on the back of his sleeve.

‘We thought we’d catch up with you. You’ve been stuck up in that room with Negan for almost twenty-four hours.’ Ada teased as they started wandering outside of the main building.

The sun was shining outside, warm and comforting on his pale skin, the only clouds at least a mile away. After a few days of rain, Carl was glad to finally get some sunlight. The three friends walked along the courtyard, each with an apple in their hand as they went. Ada didn’t talk about Carl’s dad, which he was grateful for, and Daniel filled him in on the new soup recipes Rose was teaching him, along with updating him on a new love interest on the security team.

‘Do you fanboy over all of those guys? Some of them aren’t even that hot.’

‘Rory is! And Zero.’ Daniel signed, gushing over the older man with brown hair that Carl had only ever met once.

Carl rolled his eyes, smiling at his shorter friend’s hopeless romantic attitude, before staring ahead of them to the outer fence, trying to find Negan with the security team members that were gathered in a group. It took him a moment but then he spotted him.

His whole body went ice cold despite the heat around him. Negan was kissing a woman he didn’t know.

‘No.’ He whispered into the space around him, barely feeling the grip on his arm when Daniel tried to stop him from storming over.

It was like the moment he beat his dad up all over again. His vision went red with anger, lip twitching with the effort to keep his rage inside. He wasn’t sure what he would do when he got to the kissing pair, but he was sure that he wanted that bitch dead.

[fireofmyloins19]

One day

Request -  "Are you trying to rip my heart out right now? Because that's what you're doing." With John? idea from one of @soprompt 's posts

John Shelby - One day

You hadn’t seen the actual murder, just the aftermath. The pools of blood coagulating on the stone floor, some splattered across the walls and furniture from the brute force used. You felt strangely compelled to take in the scene before you but there was no time, bodies hurried from the room, their hands dragging you with them. You didn’t have the chance to ask questions, darting through the chaos in the hope of an escape route, trying to keep up with the flow of the people around you. The frantic cries and shrieking of whistles accompanied the panic, along with the roar of Tommy’s voice shouting orders at his men from somewhere in the house. You rounded a corner, coming to a window at the back of the house which looked to have already been discovered by some of the men as the glass now lay in pieces across the floor. You froze, knowing you needed to get out but your body wouldn’t let you. Your eyes darted around the room, your breathing uneven. It was the whistles growing closer and the first sight of police in the house that gave you incentive to move.

You launched your body forward, grabbing onto the window frame for support as you clambered up and pushed your legs through now, sitting on the ledge. You felt the sting of your hands while the shards of glass dug into your skin but you didn’t move, concentrating on the drop below.

“You can do this”

You whispered to yourself as you closed your eyes tight before taking a few deep breaths. You raised your hands, ready to let your body drop to the floor and only hoping your feet would somehow find the floor until his hands grabbed you, sending a sickening shock through your body as you jumped at his touch.

“John what the fuck I thought you were a copper!”

“You need to jump”

“Well yeah I know that I was just about to when you stopped me”

His head darted back to the door, eyes strained with worry as he searched for a sign of the police gaining on you. Not having the patience or time he grabbed your body tightly, lifting you from the window frame which you insisted to grab onto tightly and placed you to the side on the roof outside before jumping down himself in one swift movement.

“Right jump now I’ll catch you”

He stood below you with arms open wide, his eyes barely visible under his cap as it hung off his head. You let your eyes roam the blood stains on his shirt, the voices growing closer drowning out John’s cries for you to jump.

“Y/N you better fucking jump now do you fucking hear me? You’re gonna get fucking nicked, jump!”

The sudden realisation that that was a likely possibility was what drove you to finally drop from the window, managing to land somewhat on your feet and more on John’s body. He grabbed your hand and began the run. You darted down the back alley without a single glance behind you but it wasn’t long before you had  to stop to catch your breath, throwing your hands against the high walls that caged you in as you heaved. The sight of Tommy Shelby swinging round the corner with rare emotion evident on his face was one you didn’t wish to see.

“There’s no time for fucking brakes move”

“Where the fuck have you come from?!”

You snapped at him between wheezes, grabbing at your sides to ease the pain as you stretched. Neither of them bothered replying to you, starting a desperate conversation between themselves as though you weren’t even there.

“She needs to leave now John”

“Na Tommy I ca-”

“John, she’s going now. We can’t have her getting in this mess alright? This is no place for her right now. The car’s out front”

Your head swayed side to side, trying to keep up with their words as they spoke in riddles. You furrowed your brow in confusion but didn’t have chance to clarify whether they were referring to you before John grabbed your arm and marched you out into the street where the car stood, engine on.

“What the fuck? I’m not going anywhere what are you on about?”

You stared at John for answers but all he did was stare at Tommy, helpless for answers himself. His face was contorted with the desperation for you to stay but the understanding that the best thing was for you to go.

“John get her in the car”

“Get off me I’m not fucking leaving!”

You were snapping now as you fought against John’s grasp, him having followed Tommy’s orders and trying to bundle you into the car. You flailed your arms around, your body writhing against him and the tears began to burn your eyes but you soon fell limp in his arms knowing it was useless. Knowing yourself you had to go.

“Look at me”

He spoke sternly yet you could hear a softness in his voice, only one you could pick up on. His eyes bored into yours as he grabbed your face in his hands, a look of anger in his face which fought away the his tears.

“This is no life for you. I can’t have you here with shit like this going on, people like this. People like me. You deserve better alright? You deserve fucking better”

The anger subsided from your body, feeling your face drop slightly at the sight of his tears. His words became choked as they ran down his face and he spluttered and sniffed to hold them back. A loud groan of anger leaving his mouth as he shook his head, almost like he was trying to shake off the unusual emotion. You managed to find your voice, your words coming out as almost a whisper but you hoped they would make him rethink his decision.

“Are you trying to rip my heart out right now? Because that’s what you’re doing”

His sudden lunge forward caught you off guard as his lips eagerly met yours, pushing against them hard for a final time before pulling away. Not only did he pull away from the kiss but away from you all together rushing away from the car as you were huddled inside.

“John?!”

“I love you alright”

He spoke with his back facing you, not wanting to meet your eyes again. You wished you had replied but you didn’t, instead crying his name as the door was slammed and the car began to pull away from the curb. Your screams louder than any other in the street while your fists thumped against the window.

The emotions coursed through your body leaving you numb and your mind a blur. You stared at his lips, noting they were moving but you weren’t hearing the words coming out. You heart sank at the sight on him, falling to the pit of your stomach and leaving an aching in your chest, yet the butterflies swirled in your stomach making your body tingle. The chills ran down your spine and left the hairs on your neck pricking up when his eyes were laid on you, yet you could feel your cheeks were fiery, burning under his stare.

“This is Esme”

You tried to keep up with the multiple conversations going on amongst the Shelby’s and the numerous questions you were being bombarded with once they had got a hold of you. John held his arm out towards his wife, attempting to make an introduction. You paused for a moment too long, your mind only just registering what he had actually said as you came to your senses. You managed a half smile, not wanting to be bitter about the wife but it was never going to rest easy with you.

“Pleased to meet you”

“And you, John’s told me a lot about you”

“Has he now”

You tensed up slightly but managed to keep the smile on your face even though you knew it didn’t look realistic now. You glanced towards John who was staring at his feet, fidgeting back and forth. You were thankful for Polly breaking the sudden silence.

“Right well I’m going to find Ada she’ll need some company right now, Arthur go find Finn”

“I need to go check on the kids I’ll be back soon”

With that everyone dispersed, leaving you and John stood watching Freddie’s dear ones kneel by his freshly dug grave.

“How’s it feel to be home?”

You raised an eyebrow, not being able to hide your smirk but questioning whether he was mocking you, considering he was the reason this place was no longer your home, but you decided to push no further.

“This isn’t home John, but all the same, good to be back”

“I bet it is, with this handsome fella at your side. Just missed me too much haven’t you”

You scoffed swaying to the side slightly knocking into his side playfully as your way of telling him to stop.

“6 years, it feels a lot longer”

There was a silence but this time it was a comfortable one as you stood watching your once family hurry around like they always did, rushed conversations and dealings being done at the back of the graveyard as the children ran around their feet.

“Did I make the right decision?”

His voice sounded softer now, as though he was still unsure of his words even when he spoke them.

“Have you been happy?”

You turned to him slightly off guard and the confusion obvious on your face but it didn’t take you long to understand. He wouldn’t meet your eyes, staring off into the distance still watching the people as though trying to make out he had no idea you were now watching him.

“Yes, I’m happy”

It was only now he agreed to meet your stare, your warm reassuring smile causing him to smile in return. It wasn’t long before he looked away, not one to keep up a heart warming moment.

“Who would have thought Freddie bloody Thorne would be the one to get you back here ey?”

You couldn’t help but laugh at his attempt of lightening the mood. The comforting feeling of being around him the only thing making Small Heath feel like home again.

“The world works in mysterious ways”

You heard him snigger beside you which made you shoot him a glare, only causing him to burst into laughter.

“Why is that funny?”

“Just you and your little sayings, you use to come out with some right stuff. See nothing has changed there then”

You tried to keep up your irritated expression but it was no use as you began to beam at him.

“That’s an actual saying though, I haven’t made that one up”

You tried to explain through laughter as you both began to recall the shared memories, it was as though the bitterness you had felt had never been there.

“We did have a great life here….even if it was quite, messy?”

He scrunched up his face at your choice of words but laughed in agreement giving you a slight nod.

“You never know, we could be together again one day”

You caught the wink he gave you after which was enough to set you off again, somewhat hoping he may not be joking but not willing to give that another thought for the time being.

“Yeah maybe one day John, maybe”

“Well, the world does work in mysterious ways”

[sceawere]

here we are again | john shelby

two anons wanted a continuation of these moments/john+reader having another kid so i combined them

“You’re fucking kidding me. I better be fucking dying”

You whispered against the cool tile as you perched against the bathroom wall, swallowing against the nausea.

“Mummy?”

You cracked your head up, swiping a hand over your mouth. Joe was hovering in the doorway, his pyjamas slumped around him.

“Hey baba”

“Are you ill?”

“Yeah, I think I might be”

“Should I get Pol?”

“Please”

He flew off down the hallway and you heard his little feet pattering down the steps. You waited, bracing yourself back as another wave ran over you.

“Mummy?”

“Yep?”

“Are you okay?”

“I’m alright Georgey”

“I heard Joe running around – should I tell him off?”

You would have laughed if it didn’t turn your stomach and shook your head slightly.

“It’s alright, he’s ringing Auntie Pol for me”

“Oh…should I ring daddy?”

“No, daddy’s working out of the office tonight, we’ll have to wait until he gets home”

His bare feet patted against the tile, sitting himself against your tented knees.

“What’s daddy doing?”

“Working, I don’t know”

“He should be home if you’re not well”

“He will be”

You looked down at him with half closed eyes, his cheek snuggling against your knee.

“Is it your belly?”

“Seems to be”

You adjusted your back against the tile, wanting to find a new cool spot as your skin started to warm again.

“Should I wake Katty up?”

“No, let her sleep. You should go back to bed”

“I don’t want to leave you alone”

You smiled down at him, swiping a hand over his ruffled hair.

“I can look after myself, don’t you worry”

“Polly’s coming”

“Thank you, baba”

Another wave suddenly hit you and you pushed yourself forward.

“Georgey, go wait outside, take your brother”

“Are you gonna – oh! Okay, out Joe, gogogo”

“Ew, mummy!”

-

“How long?”

“Oh, who fucking knows?”

“I tell you what, you two are like bloody-“

“I know! Polly! We’re fully aware”

She sighed, running a cold cloth over your face.

“Is there any chance-“

“I’m pregnant, Polly. We both know it. God, he so much as looks at me and I’m up it again. What’s wrong with me?”

“A lot of women would kill for it to be that easy”

“Well do they want to borrow it for a while? I don’t think I’d miss it”

She smiled at your tone, stepping back to drop the cloth in the sink.

“Well, congratulations mummy”

You looked up at her with as much acid in your eyes as you could muster and she reached out a hand to help pull you up.

“Five fucking kids, Pol. Five of ‘em”

“Don’t look at me, I was in no way involved”

You let out a mock sob, dropping you forehead to her shoulder and she pulled you in.

“When’s John back?”

“The morning”

“You going to tell him then?”

“Depends on whether it looks like his heart’ll take it”

She chuckled against you, still moving slow, wide strokes over the plain of your back.

“Do you think…he’ll be okay, wont’ he?”

“Course he will. Johnny bloody loves you. And the kids. He’d have a hundred if you’d let him”

“Don’t even joke!”

-

“Johnny”

He sighed. He’d come in, thrown the first couple layer of clothes to the ground, and flopped himself down onto the bed in his undershirt.

“Can we deal with whatever this is in the morning, please love, I’m fucking knackered”

“It is the morning”

“5am doesn’t count as the bloody morning”

“I’m pregnant”

“Funny fucking joke, now I’m serious, I-“

“Johnny”

He peeked an eye open at your tone, hand still thrown over his forehead. He swallowed when he saw the serious look on your face.

“Shit”

“Well, that’s encouraging”

You stepped forward from where you were perched on the edge of the cabinet and crawled to lay beside him. He followed your movement, his eyes coming to rest on your stomach.

“We’ve got to stop”

“Now you tell me”

He cracked the lightest smile, hand coming down from his forehead to rub over your belly.

“We’ve barely got the last one out of you”

“Trust me, I’m aware. We had a nice couple of years between Katie and Will, how did we manage that?”

“I don’t remember”

“Neither do I”

“Two under two”

“Five under ten”

“Fuck me”

“No, see, that’s what’s causing the problem here”

He shook his head, too tired to laugh properly. He blew air out through his nose again, rolling to his shoulder, hand still planted over your abdomen.

“You alright?”

“Puking my guts up, the usual”

“That bad?”

“Not as bad as with the boys”

“Think it’s a girl?”

“Aren’t you meant to be worse if it’s a girl?”

“You weren’t that bad with Katty”

“Katty’s a fucking one of her own, though, ain’t she” he laughed, snuggling his head into the covers “no point putting her on a fucking graph”

“I love you”

“Soppy git”

“I love you”

“Yeah, I heard you”

“I love you”

“Keep saying it”

“Fuck off”

“Oh, well. Lost the moment”

He wiggled his hand over your belly and you laughed.

“I love you too, Johnny”

“We’re gonna run out of names”

-

“Right, everyone’s here. What’s this about?”

Tommy lit a cig and John reached over to grab it from his mouth and stub it out. Tommy kept his hands up where they’d been, eyes rolling to Johnny. Arthur laughed from his place at the table, stopping when you spoke.

“We’re having a baby”

The room went still, Polly smirking from the back. You could hear the supports settling and the click of the clock on the wall.

“Surprise”

You waved your hands in the air and Tommy looked between the both of you and then turned to Polly, who shrugged.

“Well…congratulations” his tone didn’t sound sure.

“Another bloody one?”

“Yes, Arthur. Another bloody one”

“Fucking hell”

“Sorry, how many are there of you again? Hang on- let me check”

You made a big display of pointing them all out, counting them off as you went.

“Oh, would you look at that”

“Tell you what”

He stood, pulling you into a big hug and rocking you as you laughed.

“Giving the whole of Birmingham a run for their money, you two. Well done, Johnny”

He pulled him in next, patting his back and you heard him whisper something which made him laugh.

“You’re telling me”

You pinched your eyes at him and he cleared his throat, straightening his face.

“Hey, congratulations”

“Thanks Finn”

“How many is this now? Twelve?”

“Fuck off Thomas”

He smirked as he planted a kiss to your temple, shaking hands with Johnny before smacking the side of his head and pulling another cig out of hid pocket.

Ada squeaked as she came over, holding her hands to the side of your belly.

“I know, I know”

“You said no more!”

“I know. Trust me, I bloody meant it at the time”

“Well, I’m pleased for you”

“You don’t want to add to your lot, do you? I’ll come visit”

She laughed and you shook your head, peering down to where the faintest swell was peeking out of your dress. If you didn’t know to look for it, you wouldn’t realise but you’d been double checking every day for weeks, waiting.

-

You heard the door crack behind you, drawing your eyes from the window for just a moment.

“How was work?”

He sighed, the swish and soft thud of his coat falling over the back of a chair.

“Long. How’s the kids?”

“Causing havoc. Nothing new”

He wrapped his arms around your waist, lowering his chin to perch by your neck. You watched the kids running around the yard as he rubbed at your belly.

“How you feeling?”

“Like my tits are gonna explode”

“Better hope not”

You threw your fist back and down and he threw his hips out the way.

“Fucking hell love, watch it”

“It’s not like you’re gonna need it anyway, you’re never coming near me again”

“You said that after George, and Joe, and Katie-“

“I meant it”

“And William and here we are again”

He patted at your belly, coming to rest his chest at your back again.

“Well, I mean it this time”

“You wouldn’t last”

“I’d somehow find it within myself”

He laughed into the side of your head, laying kisses on the shell of your ear.

“Can I do anything?”

“Go pull Joe off the wall before he cracks his head, will you?”

You felt him throw his head up and huff a little at the sight of your son scrambling over the brickwork, before marching off for the cracked door. He swung it open and stepped out.

“I’ve told you twenty fucking times” he reached out, pulling Joe back by his belt loops and catching him against his chest, carrying him around while he waved his legs. They had a muffled conversation you couldn’t quite hear, John’s mouth tucked against the side of his head but both of them were cracking smiles and Joe started waving his legs even faster. He dropped him to the ground, ruffling his hair.

“I’ll put you over that washing line and peg you up there by your ankles, see how much of a monkey you are then”

George started skidding the basket William was sat in towards him, propped up with blankets all around, giggling and babbling away. John bent to pick him up, holding him up to his chest and bouncing. You ran a hand over the growing swell of your belly and smiled.

-

“Open the window”

“I just closed it five minutes ago”

“It’s hot again”

He huffed and lifted himself from the bed, unclasping the window again. He’d barely got his knee to the mattress when you groaned again.

“What?”

“They’re on my spine”

He flicked your side with his finger and you rolled. He started trailing his thumbs down either side of your spine, pressing just hard enough.

“Oh, that’s good. Yeah, left a little, down, no up, well…just…yeah! You got it”

He laughed at your hips squiggling about and the sigh you made as you snuggled into the pillow.

“I remember when I used to get to sleep at night”

“Oh, do you? When was that?”

You felt him settled behind you and he bent to lay kissed against your arm.

-

“What the hell are you doing?”

You took another deep breath and settled back against the wall.

“It smells amazing in here”

“It’s a fucking coal shed”

“Hmm…it’s lovely”

“Fuck me”

You rolled your head over to the doorway where John had a hand on either joist, chewing away at a pick.

“I can’t help it!”

“These fucking things get weirder every time”

“Those fucking things are our children, Johnny”

“I meant your cravings you daft- you’re getting black all over your dress”

“Screw it, I feel alright for the first time in three days. If that means plonking my arse in a pile of coal, I’ll bloody do it”

“You’re not coming in the house like that”

“Ooh, you gonna strip me off in the yard, Johnny?”

“Stop it”

You laughed, adjusting a little.

“I thought the custard on the tomatoes was bad enough but this is-“

“Don’t! Talk about tomatoes!”

He shook his head again, standing straight.

-

“I’m sorry for biting you”

“Understandable”

“She was upside down and I just-“

“Shut up before I change my mind”

You hummed, shuffling a little to get comfortable.

“Was Katty this big?”

“No, Georgey was the biggest”

“I remember”

He smiled up at you.

“That alone nearly swore me off anymore, your first kid being the size of a bloody toddler, but…”

“She’s gonna be tall”

“Good, I want an amazon”

He shook his head, looking down at her as she shuffled in her blanket.

“Your mum’s a-“

“Beautiful, intelligent, incredibly patient, and also delightful woman who just gave birth to your fifth child?”

“Summat like that”

You snorted, reaching up to stroke at her tiny fingers.

“Go on then, tell her”

“Right, little one. I’m dad. Sorry to tell you”

You snorted again, shuffling up in the bed.

“And that right there is mum. She’s the delightful woman you heard screaming at me a while back”

You rolled your eyes.

“I swear she’s usually a bit nicer. But anyway, you little one, you’re Elsie. Elsie Shelby. Welcome to the family”

[peakyxshelby]

Love you but I’m leaving

Part 1

Michael Gray x reader

Request: A micheal gray x reader where he absolutely adores her (his wife) but polly doesn't like her and tries to break them up until she realises how happy the reader makes michael?xx

Note: I got so carried away it will be in two parts now!! 

You are woken up by the sun burning through your window creating a frame of light over your fiance. His strong jaw line clenched and unclenched as he dreamed. You traced his chest with your fingers, his soft skin comforting to touch. You watched him as his eyes flickered open adjusting to his settings, smiling when he saw you staring at him.

“What are you looking at?” he smirked, pulling you closer and turning around to face you. You leaned forward pushing your lips against his as he ran his hands down your back and through your hair. You pulled away slightly as your face rested into a more serious expression.

“Don’t tease me,” he moaned, frustrated that you weren’t still kissing him.

“We have an hour until we have to be at lunch,” you start to say as you swing your legs over the side of the bed and pull yourself out.

“Can you please not worry about it, it will be fine.”

“Not really fine considering your mother actually hates me,” You scoff at him.

“OK well that is a small problem but everyone else loves you.”

“No body else matters.”

“I matter, and I love you,” he swooned as he pulled you back onto the bed placing kisses on your neck.

“I am not getting the blame for making her son late, hurry up and get dressed.” You swat him off you rushing into the bathroom.

You and Michael sat down at the large table beside each other, with John on the other side of you and Ada across from you, you felt slightly more comfortable. Polly was sat opposite michael however which making you tense. You were all gathered to celebrate some business victory as well as little Finn’s 18th birthday.

“How is your new house then, you liking it?” John asked you.

“Love it, more than I could ask for.” You and John continued speaking, catching up because you hadn’t seen her for a while when you overheard another conversation happening.

“Nice house isn’t it Michael?” Ada asked him.

“We love it,” he replied.

“Of course the grubby whore does Michael, she’s only with you for your money.” You stopped your conversation with John who you presumed also heard as his face dropped.

“Pol,” Ada said sternly. You turned around in your chair smiling sweetly at the table, putting your hand on Michaels.

“I think I’m going to head home. I don’t feel too great,” You say quietly to him excusing yourself from your table.

“Good,” Polly spat watching you get yourself together.

“(Y/N) wait…” Michael tried to stop you but by this point you had practically ran out the door and made your way home.

“Now what the fuck was all that about Pol?” Tommy asked harshly slamming his hand down on the table.

You were sat in the middle of your bed hugging the duvet and blankets around you as you rested your head on the headboard. It had been a couple hours and your crying had become less consistent like you had no tears left. You almost felt numb. You had tried and tried to make things work, for Polly to like you but nothing was changing her opinion. Polly and your mother used to be best friends many years ago until they had a big fight. No one really knows what happened and honestly I think it’s safer that way. Your mother pretty much disowned you when she found out you were set to marry Michael Gray but when she finally met him, she swooned over him for days. Telling your entire family how lovely he was and how you were marrying the kindest man in birmingham. You didn’t quite get that same reaction when you properly met Michael’s mother though.

“(Y/N)! You here?” Michael called up the stairs, snapping you out of your thoughts. He slowly opened the door of your room and sat down beside you, pulling your head into his chest to comfort you. “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s OK,” you sniffle wiping away a couple tears that had accidentally let slip.

“It’s not, though,” he said back his voice cracking.

“Not your fault.”

“I love you, a lot. I don’t know how you’re putting up with all this but thank you,” His voice was softer now as he kissed you gently on the forehead.

Michael and his cousins had gone on a two-day trip down to London for business, which left you alone in the house. You didn’t like staying by yourself especially now you pretty much had a target on your back, that’s what you get for associating with a blinder. You were cleaning the kitchen the afternoon the boys had left when the door flew open and the beautifully harrowing figure walked in.

“Michael went away with the boys Pol, he’ll be back in two days.”

“You think don’t know where my own son is?” She barked at you. You stayed silent eyes locked to the floor. “I came to speak with you.”

“Oh, I see, Tea or Coffee?”

“No I don’t have time for that. Sit.” She ordered taking a seat herself at the table. You followed her direction and did the same. “I don’t like you and you aren’t the women for Michael. You know as well as I do that I don’t want you around him, you are poison. (Y/N), you and your mother are exactly the same, selfish bitches. You might be sitting here thinking that none of what I say matters but honey it does. Michael will always choose me first, over anyone. He chose me, the mother he didn’t know, over the family who raised him for near enough 15 years. He will put me first, and I am going to make him choose. He will have to choose you or this family. You can let him break your heart or you can run, but one or the other will be happening.”

“Pol..” You whispered, voice cracking as you tried to speak. You cleared your throat hard but it wasn’t helping. “Why… Why do you hate me so much?”

“You won’t steal him from me,” she spat. In a second she was up and out the door, letting it slam behind her. The ghost of her presence still lingered in the room her words stinging your skin. She was right though, he would always put his family first. You couldn’t have him now Polly had made up her mind. You let your head fall against the table, your body crumbling as you sobbed and cried into the table.

It took you a couple of hours to peel yourself off of the table and make your way to the bedroom. You pulled the big suitcase down from on top of your shared wardrobe throwing it on top of your bed. You start to empty your drawers into the case, then the content of your wardrobe. Your head was filled with emotion you slammed your fist against the wall hard, not even noticing the skin by your knuckles splitting and beads of blood roll down your fingers. You muffle your screams by holding your shirt to your mouth. You move to your bathroom collecting your toothbrush and towels. You went to throw the items into the case when you saw one of Michaels white shirts, the softer one that looked a bit scabby but was your favourite to wear, poking out among the pile of clothes you had dumped in the case. You collapsed on the bed pulling the shirt out and holding it to your face, taking in his warm musky smell once more. This broke you. You felt as if your world was crashing down around you. Taking a deep breath you zipped up the case grabbed your coat and headed to the door. You placed your key on the kitchen table taking a good look around once more at the life you almost had.

It had been three days since you packed up and moved back in with your mum. When you told her what had happened she almost marched around to Polly’s house to give her ‘a piece of her mind’. You swear they only fell out because they’re so bloody similar, both stubborn and put their family above all else. You begged her not to go and after a couple hours of pleading with her, she dropped the tough mum act. She sat down with you letting you cry, even shedding a few tears of her own. Not a second that went past your mind wasn’t thinking of Michael, you wondered why he hadn’t come and found you yet he had been home for a day. You don’t know if it was some weird sort of coincidence but as the thoughts were running through your head, a faint knock on the door came from down stairs.

“Where is she?” His voice was broken it sounded so strained.

“Michael…” you say running down the stairs, it took everything in you not to run and jump into his arms.

“I’ll give you two some space,” your mum said grabbing her jacket and heading out the door.

“(Y/N) what’s going on?” Michael looked as broken as he sounded, his hair a mess, bags under his eyes and he looked tired. Seeing his bloodshot eyes broke your heart all over again. You leant your head against his chest trying to stop the blubbering that was going to inevitably come. He rested his chin on top of your head as he wrapped his arms around you, sighing heavily. You could feel all the tension he had been holding up slipping away as he held you.

“I’m so sorry Michael,” your words barely audible.

“We’re getting married though? What about all our plans?” You pull away as tears start to running taking both his hands in yours.

“You are perfect, but I’m not perfect for you. You’ll find someone that fits in, into your life, your family and your heart,” You sobbed hard tripping over every word. “I love you more than I can describe in words, so much that I have to let you go. It’s best for you.”

“Why are you saying all this? What’s changed your mind for fuck sake please don’t do this.” He was crying as much as you know pleading with you as he gripped onto your hands. Gripping so tight that if he let go you would be pulled away from him.

“I’m sorry, I can’t do this anymore.” You breathed heavily and he pulled his eyes away from yours.

“I don’t understand. I don’t fucking understand!” You let go of his arms opening the door for him. He stared at you not believing what he was seeing, it took him a minute before he walked out. Seeing him walk away from you was soul destroying.

“Goodbye Michael Gray,” You whispered just loud enough for him to hear. He stopped in his tracks as they ran began to pour, he didn’t have it in him to look back, so he didn’t.