brown socialite

writer

[colossalcriminal]

𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐱

welcome!

here you'll find every fandom I've written for, and the links to characters and stories.

requests are always open for any character, even those that are not in the fandom listed.

criminal minds

harry potter

house m.d.

james bond (craig era)

marvel

peaky blinders

ragnarok

sherlock

supernatural

for a list of fics that are coming soon, click here.

[colossalcriminal]

Memory Lane, Detroit. - j.m.

Pairing: Joel Miller x fem!Reader, slight Connor x fem!Reader, Hank x Daughter!Reader (mentioned), Last of Us x Detroit: Become Human crossover. Summary: They say home is where the heart is, but when Y/N stumbles upon Detroit on their journey to Wyoming, she feels as though home is where her heart once was, and where it could be one day.

Content warnings: mentions of death, pregnancy, late30s!reader x 50s!Joel. Android revolution failed in 2002, outbreak occurred in 2003.

They're in Detroit.

Something about it hits her like a tonne of bricks or tripping on cobblestone when wearing nice heeled shoes like they used to. Either way, she stumbles, nearly falling. Maybe it's the air, the feel, the familiarity, but she's certain it isn't the look of it.

Detroit is unrecognisable, for the most part.

That's what one nightmare after another does to a place, she guesses.

"Come on, I know somewhere we can stay the night."

Joel and Ellie follow her, nearly mindlessly. The former takes note of this as Y/N's domain, her territory, etched into the back of her brain, and the girl isn't one to argue with her like she does with Joel.

They walk, as they have done through the summertime. Every now and then her eyes trail over a familiar street sign, or an old store. She swears you could hear a subtle whistle in the wind, a slight hum of laughter, but she decides it's the ghost of her youth.

Not terrible, is one way to describe the house. The disease has been kind enough to leave it remotely untouched. It's dark, but the windows are open and the curtains are torn, so it has been touched.

Joel goes to open the door, the handle doesn't budge, he grunts. "Hold on." He steps away with a huff, watching her movements. Y/N kicks over a potted plant, the organism long dead and smelling slightly foul if you're close enough to it, underneath is a silver key. "Spare."

She unlocks the door with a professional force, the kind you'd employ if you were a resident of the property, but Joel doesn't ask her just yet. Ellie is the first to go inside, instantly hopping onto the couch. The springiness surprises her, a giggle escapes her lips, Y/N smiles. "Ellie, there's a room down the hall for you. On the right." She listens, dashing down the hall and into the bedroom whilst the older woman stays put. "Hello?"

"Who're you calling out to?"

Her head snaps in Joel's direction at his query, he stands near the entry to the kitchen. "Was just wondering something."

The house is empty, apart from the three of them. She goes past him into the kitchen, there is a nearly empty bottle of liquor by the sink, a singular photograph on the surface of the dining table. "You alright, darlin'?" Her partner says from behind her, he presses his chest to her back, his arms caging her against the table.

"Yeah." He catches a glimpse of the photo she stares at before she turns to face him. "Just thinking, honey."

A sigh escapes his mouth, his hands plant themselves on her waist. "I know." And he does, he knows what she's thinking about. "Any idea where he is?"

Y/N shakes her head. "For all I know, he could be-"

Joel interrupts her, his digits lightly dig into the flesh of her midsection. "Don't think like that. C'mon, now," His right hand travels, his fingertips lightly hooking under her chin, she finally looks into his stormy grey eyes.

The corners of her lips tug upward, the smile is small, she places a quick peck on his lips. "Let's get some rest, hm?" They slowly step to the living room, he settles in to the sofa first, she doesn't join. "Hold on, just wanna see something outside. I'll only be a minute."

"Be careful."

And so she is, silently leaving the house, her hand stays on the handle of her gun, fingertip teasing the trigger.

It's eerily quiet. A rustle. It's faint, almost nonexistent, she turns to her left. "Jesus, fuck."

The subject of her curses tilts his head, his eyes squint momentarily. "Y/N?"

"Yeah, Connor."

They look at each other, it isn't brief or fleeting, their stares bore holes into the other.

Connor looks just as he did twenty years ago, his skin smooth, hair dark and eyes youthful, but his clothes are rugged, his CyberLife jacket has been lost and his tie is ripped. The sleeves of his button up are folded to reveal dirt stained forearms.

His eyes, they're dim, dark brown and dull, probably from some many years of lonesome survival. They soften upon her, her own tiresome eyes could mirror his, the underneath of them are dark and slightly hollow.

Also hollowed out are her cheeks. Small wrinkles fold over each other at the outer corners of her eyes, her hair isn't as long as it once was, but for the most part, Connor smiles at how gracefully she has aged, despite the obvious circumstances.

"How are you?" The question is futile, but he hasn't had much practice with human interaction in recent decades.

"Surviving." Her brows furrow, she's unable to remain curt, cool and collected, worry flashes across her features. "You're still here? After all this time?"

The android nods, somewhat proud, a little. "Taking care of the house."

"I guess no one expects an android to stick around." He smiles a little at the humor in her sarcasm. "Where is he? My dad."

Connor takes a step forward, and judging by the frown playing at his lips, she knows what is coming. "Y/N," Her head begins to nod, despite the news still inching off the tip of his tongue. "Hank died. Seventeen years ago."

"Oh."

Something shifts in her stomach, a revelation, a sense of relief. A conclusion has been presented to her, certainty floods her veins, a light has shone itself upon the darkness of unknowing and death.

"Was he," The woman sucks in a breath. "was he alone, or in pain? Was he bitten?"

"No. No, he was sick. He had been for about a year, he decided it was time." Y/N's lips purse, she continues to nod feverishly, her brain processes his words. "He thought of you. You and Cole were the last Hank spoke about. We didn't know you were alive."

On that cool day in September twenty years ago, she'd arrived in New York for university, but had barely made it through her first lecture when the news echoed throughout the bustling city.

"Yeah, I know." Y/N sniffles, not from tears, but something tingles. "I tried driving back to you, couldn't make it past Pittsburgh, it'd been quarantined by then."

Connor nods. "Yes."

"I found a group, a couple of us settled in the Boston QZ."

He tilts his head, curious. "Boston's far, what are you doing here?"

She rubs at her temples, shifting her weight between her feet. "We think we've found something, a cure, we need to get her to a lab in Wyoming."

"Her?"

"It's complicated."

"I can help."

"What?"

The android is unfazed. "I can help you get to Wyoming."

A click sounds, from behind her, she turns to find Joel, weapon in hand and pointed for Connor's head. "Y/N, go inside, I'll deal with him."

She shakes her head, a breathy chuckle leaves her. "No, Joel, this is Connor."

His gun lowers. "That Connor?"

"Yeah. Connor, this is Joel, my,"

"I'm her husband." He finishes, face suddenly scrunching in disbelief when he faces her, no one can pinpoint the expression he holds.

"I will give you both some time to talk." Connor, in true android fashion, abruptly walks away, his hands clasped behind his back.

Y/N sits on the stone steps that lead to the porch of the house, planting herself next to where Joel stands. She tugs on his trousers, he sits next to her. "That android thing?"

"That android thing cared for my dad and kept this house in shape." She tells him. "My dad worked the deviant cases to stop the android revolution with him. I was nosy, pestering Connor for information."

"Haven't changed much, honey."

Her shoulder bumps his, it does little damage. "When you met me in Pittsburgh?" He nods, urging her to continue. "I had driven from New York, was just about to start my first year of college."

Joel's hand rests on her thigh, the warmth of his palms comforts her skin, she leans into him completely and he welcomes her touch with a kiss to her hair. "He wants to help us get Ellie to Wyoming."

"Can he use a gun?"

"Mhm."

"Alright, then."

Removing her head from his shoulder, she looks up at him, kissing his lips once, twice, until he holds her jaw and keeps her lips put against his for a third, longer time. She chuckles into his affection, they part minimally, until the similar rustling of an android's footsteps return. "Hey, you're sure you want to come with us?"

Connor nods at her question, he holds his hand out to Joel, who takes it firmly, barely shaking it. "I'll see you both inside."

"Yeah, baby." Her hand trails along the side of his torso, fingertips hovering over his leg as he gets up, Connor takes Joel's place next to her. "It's good to see you, Connor, after so long."

He smiles, fully, this time, slightly toothy. "You, too, Y/N. You've grown."

"Mhm." There's a certain glee in his awkwardness, "Hate the fact that you look the same, so damn great, fucking android."

The familiar sound of her sardonic humor hits his ears, it's like music to his mechanical brain, he dares to chuckle. "Sorry, about that. You don't look too bad yourself." It takes everything in the blue of his blood not to mention how similar she is to Hank.

A moment of silence, there's something she wants to say, Y/N remains chewing on the words, stewing in her vocabulary. "You can say it."

"I'm pregnant."

That isn't what he's expecting, he's taken aback, eyebrows raised for just a moment. "Congratulations."

"Well, thanks, yeah, kind of. Shit world we're in." Connor doesn't respond, he agrees. "But Joel takes good care of me. Been doing so for sixteen years."

"That's good." He looks at her, rather than ahead across the street like they have been doing. "You can always come back here."

She does the same, also smiling. "Yeah? Thanks, Connor."

Quiet, Detroit is so quiet, peace is a smell in the air.

The door to the house opens at such a speed, it threatens to fly off its hinge. "Joel said there's an android!"

"Fucking Joel." Y/N mutters.

[colossalcriminal]

Crossover??

Hey, I know I've got requests waiting but I am being worked like a dog and have no motivation, I will get to them this summer in June! (which I know is a long way away, I'm sorry)

Was playing Detroit: Become Human and the Last of Us this week and I was thinking about how cool it would be to kinda have a crossover?

Say the whole android revolution takes place in or pre-2003, (on a whim that in this fictional story, society was more developed in 2003), and then the outbreak happens. Reader worked alongside Connor and Hank on the deviant case, and we'd probably get the ending where the revolution failed. Dum dum dum, outbreak happens, Reader, Connor and Hank are separated.

Reader ends up in the Boston quarantine zone and meets Joel, romance ensues. 2023, they're on their journey to get Ellie to the fireflies and meet Tommy in Wyoming. Reader, Joel and Ellie encounter Connor. (who as an android looks pretty much the same, maybe a little rugged, compared to a matured reader who would most likely be in her 40s?)

I know a lot of you like a younger reader (trust me, i do too, i live for that shit, seriously like 20s reader and 50s Joel drives me feral, as a girl with daddy issues), so to accommodate the younger!reader aspect I could write it as reader in her mid/late 30s, and she was a teenager during the outbreak, maybe even Hank's daughter who was a little too involved in policing because she couldn't mind her own business.

Either way, I think Hank would be dead, Connor and Reader would have a tense but emotional reunion because they went through a lot together, I think I'd write deviant Connor or the idea that Connor was always a deviant from the beginning. I also like the idea, whether reader is in her 30s or 40s, that her and Joel have a kid together, too. If she's in her 40s, the kid could be a teenager around Ellie's age and tagging along with them, if she's in her 30s, maybe she's pregnant or something like that (someone give me an idea for this. I would like the idea of Joel and reader having a child younger than 10, but I feel like this would be unrealistic on their journey with Ellie). Either way, the whole kid thing kinda showcases a progression in life that Connor won't have as an android.

If reader is in her 40s, maybe I could sneak in a past crush she had on Connor, or some kind of unspoken connection they had that could've never come to a relationship due to their difference in species. Same with 30s reader, but I think I'd go more along the lines of she had a crush on him and looked up to him, as she would be a teenager during the rebellion times. I could clarify a bond between them, but nothing mutually romantic as that is creepy, and I think it's pretty normal for a teenage girl to have crushes. (i did, but I also have problems lmfao, she probably does too because hello???? she saw a rebellion and then an APOCALYPSE)

I WANT TO WRITE THIS SO BAD LET ME KNOW IF YOU WANT TO SEE IT. COMMENT, MESSAGE ME, ANYTHING, PLEASE.

[colossalcriminal]

two and a half dimensional.

The art of politeness is a daughter taught, daughter learned module. So frequently intertwined with the ribbons of life, the courtesy of holding the door open for someone, the feminine chivalry of nurturing, politeness is the good woman's strategy to survival, the silk bow to a daughter's peace.

The phenomenon of being a daughter who craves to be a son is one that a man will never understand, because he'll never know the duty of harnessing the comforting touch of a sister, but he has the liberty to memorise its warmth.

But, the closest I'll be to being my mother's son is to be the spitting image of my brother, but I have her eyes and share her lips, and I walk hand in hand with the same passion that's been softened into a quiet advocacy for politeness.

What does this great politeness entail? Does it queue to slash the sharp tongues of judgmental men, or does it preach the practice of counting the women of our lives as blessings? I hope it spreads gospel that for each child born comes a village of women in tow, but today I am a girl who writes of a feminine revolution of some sort and hasn't experienced the feat of passing on the education of kindness.

And one girl knows it's a cruel world when a woman of indifference is considered to be half-baked, the next girl takes note of this opinion and cries out proof of her individuality, and the last girl wonders how it came to be that women have been perceived so poorly for so long, that any sense of interest is considered unique and worthy of a son's listening ears.

One day, I break from chasing the privilege of someone's son, he rounds a corner and runs out of earshot as I sit down and paint my nails with my mother's polishes, I pick a light shade of pink.

I smile prettily as a daughter because there's a sense of beauty to my suffering that a son couldn't possibly relate to, and it tilts my head up high.

The next day, I'll pass by a fruit stall and smell the product of mango season. I'll pick out the ripe mangoes, ready to be peeled and cut, like my mother taught me to, the same way her mother taught her, and my pink nails will shamelessly stand out against nature's bright yellow. 

But, today I am a girl, and tomorrow a boy stands behind the fruit stall, he smiles at me, and I wonder if he knows just how close I am to catching him.

just something quick and not really thought out, perhaps even thought-provoking.

not all ideas need to be perfected, this one isn't.

almost everything is intentional.

i love you

[colossalcriminal]

in small celebration of One for the Money, Two for the Show hitting a hundred notes in the first twenty four hours of it being up and multiple requests for a part two, i will be writing a second part!

a few people have asked to be tagged, and so please let me know if you’d like to be tagged, too.

happy weekend<33

[colossalcriminal]

One for the Money, Two for the Show - a.h

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Fem!Reader

Summary: The title of father looms on Aaron, and he can’t seem to let go of his mistress, and she wants nothing but for him to provide her with release.

Content warnings: cheating, swearing, takes place in s1 episode 1. angst??

Aaron Hotchner’s lifelong tenure as a family man begins now.

He’s got his wife, his baby’s on the way, a nice house and a big car, a true family man.

It was inevitable for him, he wasn’t the kind to doubt marriage or children, life would take its course and he would let it, and he was sure he’d never have the chance of interacting with anything that would change that.

This odd, perhaps even life-altering, wonder had arrived in 2004, in the form of a new team member, a pretty girl. Mankind's greatest enemy would be a pretty girl. One singular woman could be so captivating she could tear down industries and destroy the world's infrastructure, and he was sure he had met her.

He himself was fresh in Quantico, just in from Seattle.

"Do you need any help?"

He wanted to decline her offer, he really did, but the intoxicating scent of strawberries had taken over his brain, and he could not produce the word 'No'. "You don't need to."

Y/N waved him off, sitting down across from him, picking up half the stack of his papers. "No worries, I like helping. I'm also trying to make a good impression."

“Don’t worry, I think you’ve made a good one.” He reassured.

Several hours passed them by, the sun had risen in their hours of work, light was peeking through the closed blinds and it was finally Saturday morning. They were much quieter now, and she had moved to sit beside him rather than across. "Take a coffee break?"

The older agent shook his head. "If I drink any more coffee, I'm never going to sleep again." She giggled, pouring herself a mug before leaning on the desk, looking down at him. "You can go now, really, I can finish this off."

She didn't budge. "I'm not leaving you behind, Hotchner." Her tone was teasing, a smirk accompanying her words. “What was it like in Seattle?”

“Rainy.”

“Oh, I love the rain.” His eyebrow is raised. “It’s romantic.”

Their faces are close together, she can smell the remnants of his aftershave and it’s nearly intoxicating. “This is not ideal.” She whispered to herself, and he pushed his lips onto hers, and despite her initial internal debate, she kissed back with equal ferocity.

He still doesn’t know what possessed his body, nor does he recognise the electricity flowing through his veins when he touches her.

In the distance, heavy shoes hit the cold floor of the BAU as the pair sprung apart in fear of the new presence in their office. "What the hell are you guys doing here? It's Saturday."

Y/N downed the last of her coffee. "We could say the same for you, Gideon." She quirked a brow at her unit chief and the unknown man beside him. "We've been here since yesterday, literally."

"Since Friday evening, yesterday?"

"Yeah."

Gideon shook his head, turning to gesture to his counterpart. "Well, while we're here. This is Dr Spencer Reid, he'll be joining the team. Dr Reid, this is SSA Aaron Hotchner," Aaron nodded in acknowledgement, offering his hand to shake.

"I don't really do handshakes." Spencer said, sheepish, relieved when no one was offended.

"And this is Special Agent Y/N L/N." She merely smiled. "I just wanted to show Dr Reid around on a weekend so the office is empty." It was smart to avoid Monday morning's usual rush in the bullpen.

“It’s good to meet you, Spencer.”

"You both should go home."

"It's too early, the subway doesn't start up for another hour." She interjected.

Aaron looked at her with a softness in his eyes that would be difficult to decipher unless you were at the receiving end. "I could drive you home."

The woman couldn't get a word out before Gideon snapped his fingers. "There you go. Now get some sleep and stop wasting your weekend away."

It has been determined, every family man needs his young, alluring mistress.

She was on medical leave in 2005, Adrien Bale’s warehouse bombing had done a number on her. He payed her visits, like any good lover. "How have you been?"

Y/N got up, moving to straddle his waist, he welcomed the intimacy, his fingertips drumming along her waist. "I've been okay." They joined in a kiss, him smiling against her lips. "How are you, Unit Chief of the BAU?"

His smile did not cease as she praised him with his new title. It was nice of her, too kind, as his own wife didn't celebrate such promotions. The higher the rank, the longer his working hours. "Better."

"You want something to eat?" Her hands travelled up his arms, soon to rest on his chest as he shook his head.

"I need to tell you something."

The seriousness dripping from his words, tinged with regret, had her pushing off of him and sitting on the other end of the small sofa. "What is it?"

His eyes narrowed from pure stress. "Haley's pregnant."

"Oh." Her mouth was left agape, just a little, until she regained the will to close it. "Congratulations, I'm happy for you."

"Y/N."

"I hope it's a happy, healthy baby."

Aaron attempted to take her hand, only for it to be snatched away. "Don't react like this."

"Act like what? I'm just happy for you."

“Don’t go quiet on me.”

It’s sounded like an order, and she was never one to disobey. Y/N scoffed. “What, you want me to scream and cry like a crazy mistress? Do you think I like knowing that you're going to bed with her every night? That you spend Christmas, New Year's, every fucking holiday, all with her!" He was quiet, and she stood, chest heaving. "All I get is office quickies and sneaking around on cases, because I'm the other woman! That's what I deserve."

“You deserve better than that.”

Her hands ran through her hair, clutching at the roots. “I’m the other woman,” She repeated to herself in disbelief. “This has been the biggest mistake I’ve ever made in my life.”

She was stumbling, grabbing her bag, she left the apartment and slammed the door behind her.

Aaron remained seated for a moment, his head in his hands. Her declarations of hate were loud, and clear as day, yet he found it difficult to breathe when she wasn't in the room.

Y/N hadn’t been around since then, not even at the grocery store, until Spencer’s faithful call.

"They want both of you back in the saddle. Medical leave's over."

Her and Gideon exchange tentative looks. “You're sure?"

Aaron smiles, just a little, at the hint of excitement in her eyes. "Order came from the director."

"Well, we better get started."

They each file out of the room, all except for two. Y/N intends to stay just to read the case file a little more, while his objective is to catch her alone for only a minute. "I came to your place a few weeks ago."

Her voice is monotoned. "You shouldn't have."

He seems unaffected by her response. "You weren't there, no one knew where you were." Her head tilts upward a little, flattered by his efforts to find her.

"I’ll send out a national announcement next time I go on holiday." The man plucks the manila folder from her grasp, just about softly catching her left hand in his grip. "Aaron."

"I didn't know if you were coming back to me."

"Don't do this because you know I'll give in." He comes closer, and closer, with every half second that passes.

Her hand is flat on his chest, halting him. “I was so attached to you, Aaron. My life depended on you,” She dares not look up at him, her gaze fixates on his tie. “Our affair had made me jealous, and I don’t want to hate your marriage, and I really don’t want to hate Haley,”

Y/N peers up at him through thick, wet lashes. “so please, don’t make me.”

His actions have a mind of their own, encouraging him to lean down and just kiss her like he’s been itching to for several months, and so he does. Because Aaron Hotchner can’t always do what he wants, but when it came to her, his Y/N, she’s putty in his hands, and vice versa.

"I miss you." He murmurs after they part.

"I know, but we can't do this anymore."

He steps away, and she’s the first to leave the tiny office.

When they’re alone there’s a potential to hurt a lot of people, it’s dangerous, and so they don’t catch themselves making that mistake until they’re outside Richard Slessman’s house, towards the back.

She’s on a call. “I love you.” The affections he hears pang at his heart. “Bye, mom.” He can breathe, she tucks her phone away.

"Everything alright back home?"

Y/N shrugs. "Yeah, she just gets worried.” She looks down at her shoes, and his eyes flicker to it for a second. "I didn't ask, earlier, how's Haley? And the baby?"

"They're good. It's a boy." Her chest inflates a little, he notices, and his eyes tear away from her silky blouse.. "I'm sorry, I don't want to-"

"You're having a baby, Aaron, you're allowed to boast." The grin that envelopes her lips was one that should been photographed, but he can’t ignore the way the corners of her eyes don’t crinkle like they usually would, or how her eyebrows knit together ever so slightly. "That's amazing, though. I'm happy for you. A boy."

Her actions contradict her words, she looks away, a way of avoiding the obligation to smile any longer. "Thank you."

"By the way," She grabs her handbag from the nearby ledge of the house, pausing at the sight of it before rummaging through. He recognises it, he bought it. A small stuffed animal is outstretched to him. "I got this for him when I was away. In the future, maybe he could look at it and think of his Aunt Y/N."

He chuckles, looking down at the toy in his hands, a little plushie of a dog. "Of course. Haley and I really appreciate this." She nods, unsure of what to say.

“I have something for you, too.” His is smaller than hers, it’s in a small velvet box and it makes her breath hitch in her throat. “I wanted to give it to you a while ago, I wanted to tell you that I was finally leaving Haley, that we could be together properly in the way that you deserve.”

She opens the box, and the ring inside is nothing short of exquisite. “Fuck, Aaron.” 

"But things didn't go the way we, I, had planned."

Her head is slowly shaking in incredulity. “This is crazy.”

"A good kind of crazy?" His features are hopeful.

Her breathy laugh is pained. "This is a crazy kind of crazy, border-lining insane."

A smile plays on Aaron’s lips anyways.  "This is it, my final, grand gesture. I love you, Y/N, I always will and I would give up everything I have for you right now if you asked me to."

She takes a single step towards him. "You don't mean that, because I won't let you. I won't let you do it." She places her right hand on his cheek, the other still holds the open ring box. "You love Haley."

"But I'm in love with you."

"It'll go away eventually, and I'm telling you this because I know you. You'll hold that beautiful little boy in your arms, and you'll forget about all of it."

The older man shakes his head, but not necessarily in denial as the surface of his eyes become glassy. "I'll never forget."

"I won't either, but we have to let this go."

“The ring is yours, you deserve it.”

Y/N shuts the box, and it makes that satisfying sound, and she drops it into her purse with a smile, and the wrinkle at the corners of her eyes makes him grin like a boy. 

And although she wants nothing more than to shout her love for him from rooftops and kiss him while August heat slips away as September looms on them, she readjusts her handbag on her arm and turns the corner around Slessman’s house.

[colossalcriminal]

𝐬𝐮𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐚𝐥 𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐱

here you’ll find the list of characters and fics i’ve written relating to supernatural.

Goodbye, Apple Pie - Fem!Reader Sam and Y/N aren’t too thrilled when Dean stumbles back into their lives.

[colossalcriminal]

Goodbye, Apple Pie - s.w

Pairing: Sam Winchester x Fem!Reader

Summary: Sam and Y/N aren’t too thrilled when Dean stumbles back into their lives.

Content Warnings: mentions of alcohol, slight swearing. kissing?? Takes place in season one.

“Do we really have to go?”

Despite pouting at his laziness, the corners of Y/N’s mouth tugged upward ever so slightly. “If you really don’t want to go we don't have to, baby.” 

He sighed humbly as she straddled his hips, hands flat on his chest. She had almost relieved the feeling of his back against the wall with little support. “You think you’ll be ready in ten?” His answer was expected. Even with the choice he was offered, Sam could never say no to her. Wherever his wife went, he went.

Their mattress was situated on the floor, a slightly uncomfortable situation. She did her best to make it look nice with patterned sheets, but the sight of their duvet touching the floor when the bed was neatly made did irk them both.

“I can be ready in fifteen.” She promised, pressing a chaste, grateful, kiss to his lips before departing back to the bathroom.

They had a bed frame once, with a nice headboard. It probably would’ve lasted them years if Sam's guilt hadn't gotten in the way, and if it wasn’t so easy to sell it for such a hefty number.

A nice sleeping area, most of his savings and skipping some classes to pick up extra shifts at work among other things were worth practically nothing when it came to his girl. 

His girl who deserved everything, his girl who should’ve gotten better than a Vegas wedding with only an Elvis impersonator in attendance, his girl who didn’t mind they were absolutely dirt poor.

But, she was also his girl who was tearing up in confusion and glee when he presented her with the prettiest wedding band that matches his.

Sure, a bed frame could’ve given him a few years of good sleep, but Sam knew it was worth it when he saw her face, and he prayed that this piece of jewellery would stick around until he could buy her a bigger one.

By the time they reached, the bar was crowded and the Halloween decorations had made it seem busier, as usual, they’d already been approached by multiple friends in silly costumes.

“I’m so proud of you, and your freakishly good LSAT score.”

He smiled at her. “Have you heard back?”

To him, it was already obvious from her reaction. The way her eyes flickered down to her drink, her grin now sheepish. “It’s your night.”

“So, you did hear back.” There was no escaping. Y/N rummaged through her purse, handing him the torn envelope. “Y/N Winchester,” He murmured the contents of the letter, the sound of their shared last name rolling off his tongue with a slight smirk. 

“Congratulations, it is with great pleasure that I offer you admission to the Stanford School of Medicine, class of 2010. Holy shit, you’re going to Stanford Med School.”

Y/N nodded. “I’m going to Stanford Med School.”

A breathy laugh of relief had turned into one of excitement as Sam embraced her, holding her so close to him she lifted off the ground in his grip. “You’re so amazing, you know that?” He told her, settling her down, but she remained firmly in his grasp. “I love you.”

“I love you, too, Sam.”

<3

She could hardly sleep, anyway.

Unusual, she slept like a rock, especially after a night of drinking. Sam had indulged a little more than her, just this once, to celebrate their futures.

The thud had brought her to her feet, slipping on one of Sam’s t-shirts, gently padding along the cold floor. Y/N made sure he was asleep before exiting the bedroom to search for the intruder. 

It had gone quiet again. Perhaps she imagined it?

No, she had just gotten a peak at him.

It all happened so slowly as she approached the stranger from behind, standing on the tips of her toes to wrap her arm around his neck. He squirmed, his breathing constricted, she took her chance to pin the man to the floor. “Dean?”

She lifted her arm just a little, allowing him to speak. “What are you doing here?” He wheezed, regaining his breath.

“I live here. What the fuck are you doing here?”

“Y/N?” The light turned on, and Sam’s sleepiness had worn off quickly when he found his wife on the verge of murdering his estranged brother. “Dean, what are you doing here?”

The pair stood, the former moving toward him as he wrapped a protective arm around her. “I was looking for a beer.” The intruder raised his eyebrow slightly at the couple. “I didn’t know you guys were still together.”

“What are you really doing here?”

Dean pursed his lips at the woman, one he was sure he’d never see again after she ran away. It’d been five years since he last saw her, she was just seventeen, handling a gun like a Texas Ranger. “We gotta talk.”

She resisted the urge to roll her eyes, crossing her arms instead. “The phone?”

“If I’d called, would you have picked up?” An awkward silence. “Listen, Y/N, good seeing you again, but we’ve got to discuss some family business.”

Sam interrupted, his arm not moving from its position around her. “She’s family, Dean.”

“What?”

“Your last name is literally on my driver’s license forever.” Y/N deadpanned.

“You’re married?”

“As of last year.”

“You got married at twenty-one? Are you stupid?”

The younger brother scoffed. “Actually, it’s the best decision I’ve made yet, so whatever you want to say, you can say it in front of her.”

It took a second, but Dean nodded. “Dad hasn’t been home in a few days.”

He didn’t seem too bothered by the news. “So, he's working overtime on a Miller-time shift. He'll stumble back sooner or later.”

“Dad's on a hunting trip and he hasn’t been home in a few days. We have to go.”

“Come on, you can’t just break in in, middle of the night, and expect us to hit the road.”

“No, I expected you to hit the road. I didn’t think you’d get hitched to a girl you you’ve been dating since you were sixteen. I need you to help me.”

Y/N groaned. “We get it, Dean, you’re upset we got married. Did you want an invite? Hunters go missing all the time, they’re always fine.”

Dean finally looked her in the eye, and she saw the worry that clouded his features. “Not for this long. Are you going to help me, or not?”

“We’re not. We swore we were done hunting, for good.”

<3

“How much to make you go away?” Dean narrowed his eyes at the cash in her hand. “I’ve only got twenty, but that should get you something.”

His eyebrows raised in slight surprise. “You’re living with twenty dollars in your pocket?”

“Money’s been tight, lately. I’m sure it’s more than what you have, though.”

Nodding in agreement, he got a glimpse of the shiny wedding band on her finger as she leaned against the car. “Whose idea was it? The wedding.”

“His. Vegas, we got blackout drunk after, too. You would’ve enjoyed it.” Y/N sucked in a deep breath. “He wanted you there, Dean, he just didn’t know how to ask.”

Her words didn’t bring much comfort. “Is there anyone else who can help you?”

He wasn’t stupid, he knew what she was insinuating. “Your dad’s not in good shape, last trip got him real bad.”

The features on her didn’t move, her expression was stony. “Where is he?”

“Somewhere in North Carolina, last I checked. Still upset you ran away, I am, too. It would be good to have you on this hunt, like old times.”

“I appreciate that you haven’t asked for much, in the last couple of years. Sam misses you, I know he does, but we’re so happy and safe, I need you to understand that.”

Dean looked down at her, features softening at her teary eyes. “Please, help me, Y/N. Just this once.”

She nodded, blinking. “We have to be back first thing Monday morning. Sam’s got a law school interview. His future is important to him and I, and if you’re a good brother, it’s important to you too.”

<3

“Are you sure you want to go?”

Sam pressed a kiss to her shoulder, his hands sliding down her upper arms as she packed several articles of clothing into a duffle bag. “It’s one trip, that’s it. Just to find dad.”

The girl paused her action. “Do you think he’ll be happy to see us?”

“We didn't run away, babe, we went to college.”

She turned to face him, her hands cradling his face. “One trip.”

“Hey, if anyone’s going to fall back into old habits, it’s you.” He joked, pressing a kiss to the corner of her mouth.

Y/N rolled her eyes with a slight smile, giving in to his affections. “We’ll be back by Monday morning, right?”

“Absolutely.”

Sam leaned down, two fingers under her chin as he joined their lips.

“How long are you going to take?” Dean called, his voice growing suspiciously louder before the door to their bedroom swung open. “Shit, my bad.”

“Jesus, fuck, knock!” She parted from her husband to glare at her brother-in-law.

“You guys really sleep on the floor? And I thought I had it bad.” 

[colossalcriminal]

Housekeeping

Pairing: Harry Potter x Fem!Reader

Summary: When Harry gets a part-time gig cleaning the house down the street to escape the Dursleys for a few hours a week during the summer, he soon recognises the residents’ daughter as his own schoolmate.

Content Warnings: None, really? Not proofread. There’s no specific time this takes place, you could say it’s the summer after fifth year. Reader is also a Ravenclaw but it doesn’t have too much of an impact. Mentions of a functional family.

“There you go, Harry. Don’t worry about the downstairs, today. Just some light dusting upstairs and wiping the windows.”

Harry nodded, smiling down at the many shiny coins that lay in his hand.

He got to work, somewhat disappointed that there wasn’t much to do today. He wondered if there really was more, but the L/Ns were too nice to ask. Dusting along several shelves that lined the wall of the upstairs hallway, he made his way to the first room. 

It’d been his first time in this one. The door, for the first time ever, was slightly ajar, a stark difference from its usual shut position. It wasn’t too clean, the trunk open and closet half empty, not yet finished with unpacking for the summer holiday. Books and trinkets were scattered about the table, bed haphazardly made. The walls were painted a pretty shade of cream, almost completely covered with posters of musicians such as Celestina Warbeck and Lorcan d’Eath, he was surprised to see them accompanied by several Ravenclaw banners and a blue and bronze tie hanging from the bedpost.

He had an inkling that the L/N family knew of magic and wizards, but for their child to attend Hogwarts? Harry did as he was paid to do, wiping the windows. Dusting the shelves, he was oddly determined to find out who lived in this bedroom.

A Ravenclaw.

Judging by the clothing style and size, which he knew very little about, she couldn’t be much younger than him. 

The boy refused to snoop through the stack of letters on her bedside table, only one name catching his eye. Dean Thomas.

Were they friends? He hadn’t noticed Dean with a girl, but lately, he hadn’t noticed much at all. Were they dating? “Who are you?” Harry murmured, sighing as he went to look at the framed moving photographs.

With narrowed eyes, the name he’d been searching for had uncovered itself in his brain. “Y/N L/N.”

△⃒⃘

It was warmer than it was a few days ago when he was wiping windows and dusting shelves, Harry walked down the street, knocking on the door of number 8 Privet Drive.

Would she be home?

The door swung open several minutes later, but it wasn’t to address him. Perhaps his knock was too quiet, too nervous, to be heard. “I’ll be back late, tonight!”

“No, Y/N! Not a single minute after twelve!”

“Let's make it twelve-thirty!” She shut the door before her parents could retaliate, eyes widening slightly at the sight of him. “Oh, I think you’re cleaning the kitchen today.” Y/N told him before scurrying off, readjusting the purse strap on her shoulder.

His eyes trailed after her as she walked away. Summer was most definitely here, one could tell from her skirt and vest, along with the sunglasses that covered what he remembered to be very pretty eyes.

Shaking his head, Harry scolded himself for looking too long, getting one last glimpse of her wonderfully styled hair before entering the house.

He’d seen her, she’d spoken a total of eight words to him.

△⃒⃘

Thursday came, the second and last day of the week he had to clean, Harry would have to wait four more days to return on Monday to find any sort of reprieve from the Dursleys.

He insisted on wiping the countertops slower, ensuring maximum shine, scrubbing with utmost precision while Mr. L/N sipped on tea in the living room and Mrs. L/N judged the flower arrangement on the dining table.

The front door shut, and no one flinched. “I’m home!”

She placed her bag onto the table her mother was sitting at. “Hair up please, darling, Harry’s just cleaned the floor.”

Y/N huffed slightly before bunching her hair up into a clip, plopping down onto the sofa next to her father. “Hi, dad.”

Her father’s eyes remained on the newspaper. “Hello, you.”

“I’m hungry.”

“Hi, hungry. I’m dad.” She pouted at the awful joke. “You should’ve eaten while you were at the burrow.”

“I wasn’t hungry at the time.”

Harry kept to himself, brows furrowed. The burrow? He’d never seen her there, it must’ve been a remarkable coincidence that their lives overlapped so heavily, yet they have yet to speak more than ten words to each other. 

“Go make a sandwich then.”

“I’m lazy.”

She retreated to her bedroom after a light chat with her mum, and soon he was due back at number 4.

△⃒⃘

“Why don’t you stay for dinner, Harry?”

“What?” Y/N almost dropped the plate she held while setting the table.

“What?” Harry’s face was one of surprise. The two spoke simultaneously. “Oh, I wouldn’t want to intrude, Mrs. L/N.”

The older woman waved him off, supplying her daughter with a fourth plate. “Nonsense, we would love to have you.”

And so the quartet sat for dinner, the teenage girl beside her father, the boy beside her mother. “This is really nice, Mrs. L/N.”

“Thank you, dear.” A short pause. “Are you and Y/N good friends in school?”

The pair weren’t sure of what to say. “We don’t talk much, mum. Different houses and that.”

“Speaking of houses, that final game for the Quidditch cup!” Mr. L/N began, eliciting a sigh from Y/N. “Absolutely ridiculous! I always tell Y/N, just because you score the first few points, doesn’t mean you calm your attack, don’t you think so, Harry?”

“I can’t say much, sir, but I know that Y/N is a great player.”

“Not great enough for Ravenclaw to beat you.” She murmured, slightly annoyed. “We would’ve won that match if Davies hadn’t substituted Chambers for Bradley.”

Harry smiled. “I have no doubt. Fair game, though?”

With hesitance, she nodded. “Fair game.”

He took notice of her face, the lipgloss she wore and the darkness of her eyelashes, a blush creeping up his neck.

As dinner soon came to a conclusion, Y/N was tasked with the light burden of walking him to the door. “See you Thursday.” She dropped the coins into his hand, their fingers brushing against each other, but only he took notice of the warmth radiating between them.

Had he been hallucinating?

△⃒⃘

“Mum and dad are out, come in.”

He nodded meekly, the confidence he’d built up since Monday dissipated. “You’re working on downstairs, today. The floors.” It was his first time seeing her at home, comfortable. Not leaving, or just returning.

But the thought of it reminded him of a particularly embarrassing day.

The upstairs flooring was completely carpeted, easier to clean than downstairs as all he had to do was a quick vacuum.

He pushed the machine along, running it over every imperfection he could spot, until he found himself before a certain door that was now shut, like always.

Harry contemplated. Her bedroom counted as upstairs, right?

The boy was itching to refresh his memory of her room, dying to know if her decor had remained the same, despite it being just a little over a week since he’d last seen it.

With an odd spur of confidence, he wrapped his hand around the old knob, twisting it and opening the door with a quiet click.

He didn’t expect her to actually be home, and he wasn’t surprised she hadn’t noticed her door open just about three inches, a bespectacled eye peeking through. It was much too loud to hear the opening of the door, with the noise of the vacuum and the melody of Celestina Warbeck’s debut album playing at a considerably loud volume.

She laid on her stomach, bed lazily made underneath her, her cheek resting on her palm, the other hand holding an arithmancy textbook.

Her legs occasionally swung back and forth in the air. Y/N was clad in just a pair of pajama shorts and a vest to combat the summer heat they weren’t used to in London, or Hogwarts. 

Harry’s breath hitched into his throat, all of his willpower being used to ensure he was not to choke and break out into a coughing fit at the sight of her chest pushed up due to her positioning. After all, he was a teenage boy.

With a gulp, he quietly shut the door, shaking his head at no one but himself.

She didn’t instantly run upstairs, instead, she returned to her seat at the dining table, picking up her quill and continuing her scribble. 

Y/N’s system was neat, efficient. Several relevant textbooks were scattered around her, each open to a different section. Multiple past essays she’d written, and scored especially high on, displayed for her to copy any impressive vocabulary. The television was on, but she didn’t seem to be distracted, instead, she hummed along to the tune of whatever Weird Sisters song was playing, continuing to write.

Grabbing the broom, he began his duties.

Minutes passed, downstairs was a lot of ground to cover.

He worked around her. “Would you like anything to eat?”

Harry’s head snapped up to find her already looking at him with a sheepish smile. “Sorry? Erm, no. Thank you, though.” She nodded, unsure of how to feel after what felt like his rejection. “Do you like music?”

The girl chuckled at his question. “I do, a lot. You?”

“I don’t listen to it much.”

“You should come over more often, then. I have a massive collection of records upstairs, we could listen together, find out what’s to your taste.”

He only nodded with a small smile, internally giddy a the thought of this being their first conversation, instigated by no one but them. His heart nearly burst at the thought of being in her room, a record turning while they chatted about whatever. “Do you go to the burrow a lot?”

“Only sometimes, to see Fred and George. I’ve never seen you there, do you go often?”

“Sometimes, yeah.”

“Must be a coincidence, we keep missing each other.”

In his effort to get the mop out and ready for use, his shoulder jerked, hitting the shelf next to him.

Multiple books had come off at the impact, falling onto the floor and landing with a harsh thud. “Here, let me help.” Harry didn’t hear her, and he didn’t notice the speed at which she’d walked around the dining table and to the shelf, too soaked up in his nervousness and silently scolding himself.

Y/N crouched down, collecting the fallen books into a pile. “Thank you, I’m sorry for the mess.” He forced out.

She let out a giggle, then another, and then a proper laugh. He only stared at her in utter bewilderment, wondering whether he was a joke, or she was a madwoman. “Sorry,” She calmed down, a few chuckles still coming between her words. “you’re just so oddly charming.”

The Ravenclaw took notice of his expression, an adorable mixture of worrisome, flushed and somewhat flattered. “It’s a good thing. You’re cute.”

“Cute?”

She shuffled closer to him to reach for the stack of books he’d picked up, the pair of them now fully sat on the cold floor. “Yes, Potter. Cute.”

He turned his head to face her, they were now aware of their proximity, the closeness. The lack of space between them. His brows furrowed nonetheless, his mouth forming a pout. “Cute? Really?”

“Would you prefer another adjective? Adorable?” Her face moved toward his, a bashful smile playing on her lips. “Harry?”

“Yes?” The call of his name didn’t aid him in snapping out of his trance, he was hypnotized by the colour of her eyes, the strawberry scent of her moisturizer filling his nostrils. “Can I kiss you?”

With her nod, their lips joined, his hand travelling to cup her cheek.

The front door shut, with a brief announcement from her parents, declaring their return. “Better get to work.” Y/N whispered, patting his chest twice before returning back to her study station.

[colossalcriminal]

𝐬𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐨𝐜𝐤 𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐱 

here you’ll find the list of characters and fics i’ve written relating to sherlock.

Fall For Me, Fall For You - Fem!Reader Sherlock and Y/N contemplate their nature.

[colossalcriminal]

Fall For Me, Fall For You - s.h

Pairing: Sherlock Holmes x Fem!Reader

Summary: Sherlock and Y/N contemplate their nature.

Content Warnings: nothing, doesn't really make sense? might be out of character for Sherlock.

"I'm just trying to make sense of it all, really."

The car was almost freezing, leather interior bitterly cold to the touch, headlights ever so often driving by, surpassing them. Sherlock, of course, in the driver's seat as always. No one payed enough attention to their surroundings like he did, even on the road. "I don't even know if there's anything to make sense of." She finished.

"You told me to pull over." Sherlock reminded, almost stern.

"It's not fair, you know? You're able to deduce all that bullshit about me, do I even know who you are?"

His head hung low. In shame? Maybe. "I don't think even I know the specifics of who I am." The mood, although already quite low, dampened at his confession. "When has my bullshit ever been wrong?" His weak attempt at prying a smile out of her failed.

"You'll eventually figure it out. Who you are." He didn't say anything, only raising his chin at her statement. "You don't fall in love often, do you?"

The man raised an eyebrow at her. "And you do?"

"I'm not sure. For all I know, we could be the same." She shrugged.

"I think we are, the same."

Y/N looked at him, vision trailing over the line of his jaw, to the curls that rested atop his head. She thought about the feeling of his cheek in her grasp, running her thumb over the sharp, pronounced bone structure. "Is it not the same to fall in love with the birds and the blue sky?" Her voice was a mere whisper, she shifted in the cold leather seat.

Sherlock narrowed his eyes at her question, the manner of it more poetic than anything he'd ever heard. "You would compare a lover to the blue sky?"

He was no romantic, of course. "Would you say we're lovers? Star-crossed lovers?" The woman queried, her gaze on him curious.

Scoffing, he refused to look in her direction, not out of malice, but in fear. "Hardly star-crossed."

She finally smiled, content with his reply. "Good." Y/N peered down to her shoes, then up to the dashboard as a small smirk tugged on the corner of her lips. "Sherlock, do I ask too much of you?"

"Not nearly enough, darling."

"Would you kiss me?"

"At the very least."

[colossalcriminal]

𝐩𝐞𝐚𝐤𝐲 𝐛𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐱

Ideal Woman - Fem!Reader Y/N doesn't need any man to entice her with a better life, but when Thomas Shelby returns, she might not be able to help herself.

[colossalcriminal]

Ideal Woman - t.s

Pairing: Thomas Shelby x Fem!Reader

Summary: Y/N doesn't need any man to entice her with a better life, but when Thomas Shelby returns, she might not be able to help herself.

Content warnings: Illegal gambling, smoking, drinking, snitching, money laundering, allusions to smut. Reader is said to be in her early 20s, roughly 8 years younger than Tommy as the story takes place in late 1918.

"Alright, Y/N?"

Ralph grinned at the young woman as she shrugged on her coat. It was during the day, safe to go for a quick drink before the pool hall got busy in the evenings, God knows she'll need it to avert drunk men from destroying her establishment. "Just heading out for a drink."

He pursed his lips. "I don't recommend the Garrison for you today." She raised an eyebrow at his words. "Thomas Shelby's back."

"I'll welcome him back a hero, then."

Lighting the cigarette that rested between her lips, Y/N inhaled, the burning feeling within her chest soothing her as she readjusted her coat, hoping to shield herself from the nippy December cold.

She took another drag from the cigarette before entering the Garrison, cigarette now between her fingers as she stepped in, settling in to her usual spot at the end of the bar. "A whiskey, please, Harry."

Thomas Shelby, a man with a mind plagued by war, barely recognized the figure that sat seven seats away from him. He remembered, a girl from so long ago a certain warmth to her touch, a softness to her features and a glow lingering off her skin. She was now a woman, a woman with no smile who found relief in a glass of whiskey, a woman with sharp features all over, sharp jaw, sharp eyes.

Harry noticed his staring, taking it upon himself to inform. "Y/N L/N." Tommy nodded, already aware of her name. "A businesswoman now, runs the pool hall at the end of the road. A bit sad, though."

This piqued his interest. "Sad? How so?"

The barman shrugged. "No one knows. It's a shame, really, so young yet so sad."

With a nod of thanks, the Blinder stood and began making his way to the snug. Just his luck, a certain woman was stationed between him and his destination. "Thomas Shelby."

Slowly, he turned at the call of his name. "Y/N."

"Didn't know you'd be back so soon."

He attempted a chuckle, unable to produce a witty comeback. "Miss me?"

"Just a little."

With her reply, a surge of confidence had shot up his backbone. "Join me for a drink in the snug then."

Y/N finally looked him in the eyes. She was afraid this would happen, afraid of getting lost in those big blue eyes of his, as if she were in a maze. After all these years, she was still so captivated, biting her lip at the sight of cold, icy blue. Withdrawing the cigarette from her lips, she blew the smoke in his direction with a charming smirk. "Alright."

He held the door open like a true gentlemen, mind practically blank as she sat across from him. Tommy took time to observe her as silence clung onto the air, from her shoes to the gorgeous shade of pink that coated her lips.

"Business going good?" She queried, receiving a nod.

"I'm surprised," He announced. "four years ago you were a barmaid. How does a girl like you have a pretty silk skirt like that?"

It was no ordinary question, not to mention the brash nature of it, she knew what he was truly asking. "No, Tommy, I'm not married. I'm always here for you to sweep me off my feet." Y/N quipped. "I have a small place, not too far from here."

"The pool hall?"

She seemed impressed at his knowledge. "You ask about me, Shelby?"

Ignoring her question, Tommy quirked a brow. "Business must be good down at the pool hall then?"

The young woman knew what he was insinuating, after all she was aware of the true nature of the Shelby family's criminality. "I'm not a threat to you, don't worry about me. You do your work, I'll do mine."

"I never said you were."

Y/N stood, downing the last of her whiskey and grabbing her bag. "You should come down, sometime."

<3

Tommy wasted no time appearing before the shop the next day, with a somewhat sparse bouquet of fifty white carnations.

"Members only. To become a member, please take a seat." Ralph said, voice monotoned as if he said the words multiple times each day. He looked up at the visitor. "Mr. Shelby."

"Where would you like me to sit?"

The clerk nervously grinned at the joke. "Ms. L/N is right through there."

With a nod, he began making his way through, observing the various men with their drinks, money and pool cues. It was obvious who was losing, whether it was a high stake bet or a playful game of pool.

Y/N was in a far corner, brushing an unoccupied table of any dust, frequently eyeing the rowdy members, hoping to catch any misconduct. Instead, she caught a sight of icy blue once again. "You came."

"You sound surprised." He somewhat awkwardly handed her the bouquet, tense shoulders loosening ever so slightly at her smile.

A soft smile, completely abstract compared to the sharp features of her face, beautiful sharp features that hold a beautifully soft smile.

"Thank you." Pretty lipstick painted lips thinned out into a shy smile. "If you can give me a minute to grab my coat, we can go for a walk? If you want."

"Alright."

Handing the bouquet to Ralph with very strict instructions to put them in water, she shrugged on her coat, a distinct, deep emerald green finished with glossy black buttons.

He took note on how she left it open, despite the mind and body numbing cold, probably to show off the creme colored chiffon dress and black stockings underneath, a change from the white tights she wore many years ago as a teenager. "How are you adjusting?"

Tommy only nodded as the woman beside him left the topic alone. "How are you doing?"

The question was foreign to her. "I've been better." Y/N answered, but the look on his face told her he wanted to know more, to know everything. "Harry couldn't afford to keep me working at the Garrison, so I tried to find work as a maid, or a governess, anything. But-"

"But they wouldn't take you because you're a pretty girl that'd make any husband tempted to fuck you." The Shelby finished for her, the corners of his lips tugging upward at her shy gin.

"Your Aunt Pol took me in, payed me to look after the house, Ada and Martha. So I saved up, and bought the store and the place above it."

"So what's above then? Top secret?"

"More like my flat."

She lit a cigarette, offering it to her companion who accepted. "What's this flat of yours like, then?" Tommy teased, catching a glimpse of the lipstick print on the cigarette, stomach doing uncharacteristic flips of excitement when his lips made contact with the mark.

"Maybe one day you'll see it."

They continued through the streets of Small Heath, occasional small talk making the odd appearance until they stopped where they began, the pool hall.

<3

Months passed, and the pair often spent time together on dates. Thomas Shelby wasn't too much of a romantic, but he certainly had his moments as they spent their time together in wholesome bliss. He didn't ask questions about her operation and she didn't care for the details of his, thus creating peace within their bubble.

"Thank you, Grace." Y/N smiled at the new barmaid, sensing her uneasiness. "I'll see what I can do about Tommy, yeah?"

Grace perked up at this, nodding gratefully.

"You've got to go easy on her." She told her date, placing their drinks on the hardwood table before settling under his arm.

The Blinder didn't react. "Arthur's going easy on her." He lit the cigarette that hung from her lips. "There's a new copper in town."

The young woman shifted, humming as she took a long drag. "I know, I heard. What do you think he's doing here?"

"Cleaning up the streets."

"Communists?" Eyebrows furrowed at his lack of response, Y/N moved away from his hold. "If something was going on, you'd tell me, right?"

Tommy cocked his head, plucking the cigarette from her clasp, tracing a finger down her jaw. "I won't let anything happen to you."

"Will something happen, Tommy?"

He ignored her question, cradling her face in his hands, thumb running over the sharp edge of her cheekbone. "Pretty girl." He whispered, eyes locked on hers, unable to look away.

Her gaze wasn't as strict, roaming from the freckled skin of his cheeks to plump lips that were a little too far away. "Is that all I am, a pretty girl?" She taunted with a pleased smirk.

Huffing at what seemed like a ridiculous remark, he shifted his hand to the back of her head, brushing through the neatly styled hair with slender fingers before pulling her close, lips colliding with no hesitation.

The privacy of the snug had only made the kiss more romantic.

It wasn't anything like how Y/N imagined it, her guess was that Tommy Shelby didn't differentiate between work and women, but it was obvious from the cradling of her cheek to the delicate swipes his tongue made across her lower lip that her imagination was wrong, as she greatly appreciated the soft nature of his touches.

"Sorry!" Grace squealed, shutting the door before it was able to open fully.

The couple broke apart, her arms secure around his neck, his hooked around her waist. "Come in, Grace." Tommy didn't utter a sound unlike his girlfriend, only eyeing the blonde with a slight suspicion as the two ladies made light conversation in hopes to recover from the awkward moment. "I've got to get going to my parents'."

"I'll drive you." The Shelby announced, already raring to go.

Bidding others at the bar adieu, the couple departed from the Garrison's. The drive ahead was silent, a sense of giddiness filling the air around them. "Stop here." Y/N pointed to an alleyway just before her parents' house. "Have to change. Be my shield, will you?"

She handed him the cotton dress, rushing into the alley as he followed behind. "Ashamed of me?"

"I only give them thirty five pounds a month, can't let them know I wear silks while walking these streets."

The sight of her slipping off the pretty white dress had erased whatever thought he harbored.

Fully dressed, she placed a chaste kiss on his cheek with a swift goodbye, only to be held back by the grip on her wrist. "Is that it?" Rolling her eyes, the businesswoman laid her hands against the smooth fabric of his suit.

"Kiss me once and you think you're going to get a lifetime's supply?"

"I sure hope so."

Heart soaring at his reply, Y/N connected their lips, rubbing any residue she left on his mouth off with her sleeve.

<3

"There's someone here for a membership."

"Send him in, Ralph."

The office was a dreary section of the pool hall, only fostering a desk and over a thousand documents. Membership documentation, reports, incidents and in a certain cupboard resided a lot of money.

A man entered, layered in multiple coats to fight the weather, his speech breathy as if he'd been running. Y/N couldn't quite recognize where she'd seen him from. "Mr." She looked at the form before her. "Charleston. Fifteen pounds, or."

She was praying whatever he had was good, certain a man of his character wasn't able to afford one of the most expensive yet elite poolrooms in Small Heath. "The new copper in town is on a mission to find guns, a lot of them."

"This has nothing to do with me, Mr. Charleston. The matters of the police aren't my business, or worth the fee of a membership."

Charleston grinned maliciously. "I know who has the guns," He paused. "Thomas Shelby."

The lady gulped, returning her attention to the documentation before her. "Sorry, sir, I can't help you here. Either it's fifteen pounds or you can leave."

"I'll take it to the police."

She couldn't, no, Y/N wouldn't let her boyfriend's idiocy reach the police, whether it was true or not. "That wouldn't be a very good idea."

"I bet the police would think differently."

Her hands slammed the table in horror, making the older man jump. "I have those guns." The lie had shocked both parties as the former composed herself. "Tell you what, Mr. Charleston, if you give me your word and never speak of this again, you can have your membership for free."

He seemed overjoyed by the offer, taking it instantly.

<3

Tommy raised his fist to knock on the door of the pool hall, well into the night as he waited for it to close, a bouquet of white carnations in his hand.

His smile had disappeared when he was pulled on harshly by his girlfriend, forced upstairs into a flat he hadn't seen before. She snatched the flowers from him, turning away to replace the ones he'd bought just over a week ago. "You're going to tell me what the fuck is going on, now."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

Y/N scoffed, facing him as she steadied herself against the counter, mind clouded with rage and what seemed like hurt. "I encouraged you to do the powder trick with the Chinese, had no problem with you fixing races without Kimber, but guns, Tommy? Guns that belong to the fucking state?"

He stood, eyes narrowed in equal anger and confusion. "Who told you?"

"All that matters is that if you do anything with those guns, you're a walking corpse. You'll be hung, Thomas!"

Taking long strides towards her, Tommy gathered her wrists in his hands gently. "Who told you?" His voice was low, terrifyingly steady.

"Those who want memberships but can't afford it can," She sniffled at her confession. "tell me of any illegal activity. If it's valuable, I take it to the coppers and they pay me, a lot. One of your boys came in-"

"One of my boys?"

"Delivery. He came in, told me, I lied and said it was me. Gave him a new membership to shut him up and let you deal with it." Lip quivering, Y/N looked up at him, at the sight of his stoic face that masked the rage underneath. "I don't accept anything on the Shelbys, you know I wouldn't."

"I know." Keeping a hold on her arms, the Shelby guided her to the small dining table fit for two, kneeling before her. "You're safe, the guns are hidden, alright? We're safe."

"I could get shut down completely."

"Not on my watch."

A strange silence fell upon them in their unfortunate state. "Would you like tea?"

He nodded, a hint of a smile ghosting his lips. "I would."

She stood, making her way to the kitchen but not before resting a hand on his shoulder on her way there.

Tommy stood tall, discovering his surroundings. The lazy-made bed, papers with too many words piled on the bedside table, photos perched on shelves and surfaces, no doubt taken long ago from her teenage years.

He joined Y/N, hovering behind her as his hands rested on her waist, chin nestled in the crook of her neck. "I could watch you like this forever."

"Really? Forever?"

"And more."

"Careful, Shelby, your seducing might work."

He didn't stop at her warning, spinning her around to meet him, swaying to no beat in particular as he worked on the tricky zipper at the back of her dress. "I love you." Tommy muttered against the bare skin of her shoulder, pressing amorous kisses from her neck to her collarbones.

"I love you, too." She voiced, tugging on the short hair atop his head, messy steps making their way towards the bed.

Their endeavors had escalated so sweetly under the confines of her duvet, wanton moans complimenting the creaky bed, the craving for skin against skin everlasting with tangled limbs.

"I wish you'd join me." The Peaky Blinder spoke, tracing the silliest of shapes on her stomach, Y/N propped herself up enough to look down at him, but not enough to interrupted the imaginary art he was tracing onto her abdomen. "We could go legal, limited. Arthur and John don't have the knack for business like we do."

"I thought you hated the word? Limited?"

Tommy shrugged. "I'd be with you. Freedom is a concept, an idea. You're here, you're real. Beautifully real." His hand travelled from her belly to her hips, then to her waist and soon reaching her hand, holding it in his, proving his point.

"Are you proposing?"

Without a word, he leaned over, stretching off the bed to reach into his coat pocket. "Finn lost the box, but I have the ring." He held the jewellery carefully, round cut diamond glimmering in the sliver of sunlight that'd successfully peaked through the curtains.

Y/N raised her hand to cover her mouth, to conceal her elated gasp. "Y/N L/N," Thomas started with a smile that most definitely reached his eyes. "will you marry me?"

"Oh, yes, Tommy. Of course. Fuck, yes!"

[colossalcriminal]

The person you met… was the person cool and nice to you?

he was!

I'd gone out with some friends to a popular spot, they were off doing something and I'd opted to stay behind. He approached me as I was smoking, (I'm an occasional smoker) and I offered to share my cigarette.

It was cold, we sat together sharing the one cig, having light conversation about where we're from, it was lovely.

when I returned to my friends, he came up to me later in the evening and asked if we could eat together. We went to the nearest fast food joint, talked and had a good time.

After eating, I went to search for my friends and he disappeared. It was a one time thing, but really nice nonetheless.

[colossalcriminal]

Muggle Inventions - s.b

Pairing: Young!Sirius Black x Fem!Reader

Summary: Sirius and Y/N's first meeting at the astronomy tower.

Content warnings: Smoking, mentions of gambling, swearing. Reader is presumed to be in Gryffindor, but could be in any house. Takes place in their 6th year, it's stated that reader's family live in London, but her nationality isn't mentioned.

A short Harry Potter fic based on how I met someone last night.

Parties weren't a rare occurrence in the Gryffindor common room, with students such as James Potter and Sirius Black, the tower was never quiet during the weekends.

The astronomy tower wasn't a long walk away, anyone could make it across the courtyard within minutes. Y/N resisted any reaction to the piercing December cold, finding relief in the cigarette that rested between her fingers.

"Managed to sneak some in?"

She jumped ever so slightly at the unknown voice, turning to just about recognize the silhouette of a boy she saw often in the corridors. "Mhm."

He sat down beside her silently, taking the cigarette from her fingers, accepting her equally quiet offer and taking a long drag. "What brought you to Wormtail- sorry, Peter's party?"

"Ludo forced me to come."

"As in Ludo Bagman?" The young girl nodded, taking her puff back as they took turns going at it. "Quite a gambler he is."

"And he cheats." She added, eliciting a chuckle from the boy. "Your name?"

The Gryffindor was shocked, no one had asked him for his name in 5 years due to his ever growing fame within the halls of Hogwarts school as Sirius Black, notorious womanizer. He was certainly relieved that his playboy repertoire hadn't made it to the brain of the gorgeous girl next to him. "Sirius Black. It's very... old fashioned. Yours?"

"Y/N L/N. It's very..." She struggled with a word to describe herself.

"It's very you. As in, it suits you."

An intoxicated Mary Macdonald stumbled onto the balcony in a fit of cackles. "Hey, you guys!"

"Hi, Mary." Y/N smiled at her friend. "You alright there, darling?"

"Yeah, yeah. You guys good?"

Sirius nodded with a tight smile, and after much assurance, Mary had rejoined the party, leaving the pair and their cigarette alone once again. "Where do you live?"

"An odd question for someone you just met."

He laughed at her statement, the smallest hint of a smirk on her lips as she flicked the ash off of the smoke. "If you think about it, we do live in this castle together, we're roommates. Spouses, if we must."

Y/N shrugged. "Fair enough. I live in London, by Harrow on the Hill."

"Nice place?"

"It's alright, fucking boring. What about you?"

"I live with James, near here in Scotland." He declined the cigarette offer, watching as she took the last puff before stomping it out. "I'm hungry, we should go eat."

"Sure."

[colossalcriminal]

Hi! I just wanted to thank you for writing for house. I just started getting into the show and I'm honestly kinda sad at the lack of content especially in the reader insert section (it's one of my main comfort fic genre to read) :') I love your writing and really appreciate you writing! Keep up the amazing work lovely <3

thank you! hopefully sometime next week I will get back to writing regularly, and I'll have a ton of house requests out :)

[colossalcriminal]

Wine Drinkers - f.w

Pairing: Fred Weasley x Fem!Reader

Summary: Everybody has vices, and everyone has a limit.

Content warnings: alcoholism, cheating, emotional and verbal abuse, allusions to smut, toxic toxic toxic. Fred doesn't die and the war is not mentioned, set during 1999 (Fred and reader are 21).

"You're fucking crazy!"

"Well, at least I can go an hour without a glass of whisky in my hand!"

Placing the glass down rather harshly, he approached her, only for her to take two steps back for every step he took forward. "Well, it's your fucking fault."

A newfound rage had issued within Y/N as her chest heaved. "I'm so fucking sorry that you're a boozer, Fred! And I'm sorry that I force you to fuck every woman you look at!"

"What did you just call me?"

"I called you a fucking boozer, get over it!"

She stood still, unfazed by the carelessness embedded into her words as he shortened the distance between them. "And if I don't? You're gonna run away?"

The mention of her endeavors had Y/N shifting, uncomfortable in her own skin. "I wouldn't have to run away if you weren't an emotional fucking terrorist."

"You still don't have to go."

"And you don't have to be such a prick."

And with that, she grabbed her coat and slammed the front door shut, leaving Fred Weasley to groan in anger at no one but himself.

❆

Oliver Wood's distinguished career as player for Puddlemere United's quidditch team had always been what felt like a dream. Despite his rising fame, the stress of training and loneliness had made him frustrated.

All that changed a year ago.

Another victory for Puddlemere was being celebrated at a nearby muggle bar, the room bustling with players in muggle clothing rather than their robes, drinks being passed around.

Oliver couldn't help but notice a familiar figure bent over the pool table, taking her shot and missing the pocket by merely a centimeter. "Motherfucker." He heard her mutter.

"Need some help, L/N?"

She looked up, dull eyes surprised by his presence. "Wood. I wouldn't expect you to know your way around a cue."

He smirked, planting himself beside her, a hand on the small of her back. "It's close enough to a broom." He urged her to stoop down to her previous position, hot breath fanning over her cheek as he adjusted her arms by the pool cue. "There you go."

She drew the stick back, following through and grinning as the ball fell into the corner pocket. "Not bad."

In truth, she hadn't expected to bang Oliver Wood in the dirty bathroom of a muggle bar, but Fred wasn't her first thought when he was fucking her senseless into the wall. Y/N hadn't slept with anyone besides the redhead in four years, but damn did it feel good to get back at him for their fight earlier that day.

"I never thought you'd come to a place like this." The quidditch player breathed out, her head against his shoulder as they experienced the aftermath of their quickie.

"I live near here, at the apartment block on Oxford. With Fred."

"You two still together?"

"Yeah."

He never minded her relationship status, aware of their state, and his friendship with Fred hadn't lasted after school. It was an unspoken deal, just sex for him to destress and for her to feel something other than vexation.

❆

Christmas at the burrow was always particularly a magical occasion, and never a small one. Children, spouses and friends were always welcome to spend the day with the most thoughtful gifts and homemade cooking.

The young couple entered through the door, Fred calling out their arrival as the family came to greet them. Hermione and Ginny were the first to hug Y/N, pitiful eyes looming at her, flickering in her boyfriend's direction. "Come on you guys, it's Christmas." The elder girl reasoned.

She avoided any interaction with Fred, opting to play exploding snap with Harry. "What's going on with you and Fred?"

"Nothing."

"You're not a very good liar."

"You're not very good at this game."

The boy snatched the card away before she could touch it. "It's been like this for a year, Y/N, we miss the way you guys were before. When is it going to end?"

"What's going on over here?" The Weasley sauntered over, slinging an arm around his girlfriend's shoulders.

Y/N gave him a minuscule smile. "Nothing, darling."

He accepted the answer. "You want a drink?"

"No, thanks. I think you've had enough too."

Fred lowered his voice. "Come on, babe. Don't be a fucking buzzkill."

"You're unbelievable." She whispered back, walking away from him with a scoff.

The entire night was practically unbearable, with the pair whispering sly comments to each other and sending dirty looks from across the table. The entire family could feel the tension, and poor Molly was nearly brought to tears when she saw the grief in Y/N's eyes.

❆

Choosing not to apparate home due to the population of muggles in their area, they settled to take a cab instead, too tired to walk.

"I hope you liked your gift."

"I did, Fred."

He placed his hand over hers, smiling lazily when she held it with no hesitation. "Thank you." He whispered, not sure as to why he was thanking her in the first place. For her gift? For holding his hand even though he'd been a massive dick?

They arrived home, the air holding onto such silence, a pin could drop and it would echo throughout the small flat. Fred gripped her hand before she could get away, leaning in to kiss her before being pushed away. "I can smell the alcohol on you." She grimaced, walking towards the kitchen.

"Then you should go screw Oliver Wood."

Y/N steadied herself against the counter. "Go fuck yourself, Fred."

"No, you don't get to do that. You don't get to be like that when you're fucking my friend."

"He's not even your friend anymore."

"Right, that makes it so much better."

She popped open a bottle of wine, ready for the fight that was to come. "And you fuck half the population of London."

It went quiet, the sharp retaliation she braced herself for never came. No insult, or shouting. It was silent, the only noise was the slight grunt that escaped Fred's lips as he fell onto the sofa beside her. "We could be different, you know? Like how we used to be."

"No, we can't, Freddie." She paused, taking a swig from the bottle. "Remember 6th year?"

Fred pounded on the door to the girls dormitory, and no one dared to question how he'd outsmarted the charmed staircases. "Y/N, open the bloody door!"

"Go away!"

"You're not breaking up with me."

The door swung open. "Yes, I am."

Crossing his arms, he towered over her. "I won't let you."

"Why are you making this so hard?"

"Because I'm in love with you, alright? And I always will be."

The Weasley shrugged. "I didn't lie. I am in love with you, always will be."

"You think we could do it? Go back to being happy?"

"I think so."

He stood abruptly, gathering the stray bottles of wine, whisky and various other vices such as cigarettes, throwing them all into the bin by the kitchen. "What are you doing?"

"Making an effort."