Brendan Hughes x Fem!Reader
CW: Foul language, to be safe “romanticization” of the IRA, Fluff, possible slow burn, mentions of partial nudity.
Notes: A little Drabble about the CHARACTER of Brendan Hughes played Anthony Boyle this is in no way about the real person. Requests always open.
Everyone ignored you. Your whole life, it was as if you were a ghost through the streets of Belfast. All because your mum was catholic and your da was a protestant. Being bullied in school was the most attention you got and you were sick of being ignored and now you were alone at a pub, that state between tipsy and drunk that gave you all the confidence in the world. As you lock your eyes onto a mustached man, you decide he’ll be your target for tonight. Once he was alone you made your way over to him, but your inflated confidence quickly burst when you tripped over the leg of a stool and fall right into his arms.
“Woah- You alright there, love…? Get a bit too much drink in ya?”
You could only stare up at him, your eyes finally focusing on his face and recognizing who he was. “I- uh… yeah…” You straightened yourself up and clear your throat. “I’m grand.”
“Name’s Dark. You here by yourself?” He asked, leaning against the bar his eyes flicking over your form.
Of course a commanding officer for the IRA would be a flirt.
“I’ve got mates all around…”
You glance out at the bar realizing you were probably surrounded by members of the IRA.
“Y’know I don’t think I’ve seen you around before.”
“Well no one ever really notices me.” You laugh awkwardly.
“Oh please I don’t believe you. You’re gorgeous.”
“Yeah well…” Your face flushed. Everything in your body is against telling him but you don’t want to lie. “My mum married a Protestant man… he…” The alcohol forces more information out of you, “He’s dead now and Mum raised me catholic but everyone treats us like we converted or something… I just wish we could all coexist not that I’m a unionist… I’m a nationalist I just-“ You ramble nervously, knowing how these guys can get.
He laughs at you, “You for the cause?”
“Well that’s all I care about.”
“Let me buy you a drink.”
You two spent the night getting to know each other at the bar, well as much as you could know him. He clearly had his walls up. When you two got a bit too close the bartender politely reminded you of the ‘no shifting at the bar’ sign just behind you.
“Wanna go meet my mates?”
“Depends. Are they as accommodating as you?” You ask, a bit apprehensive.
“I like to think so. Might have to win Gerry over though.”
His arm that had already sneakily made its way around you during your conversation, not that you were complaining, lead you over to their table. There was a few men there you recognized from your school days, you felt a bit tense as they were some of the ones who made your life hell. You were hoping you’d look different enough now that they wouldn’t notice.
“Lads this is- Ah shit I just realized I never asked your name.”
You were about to speak before one of the lads said it for you.
“Lost the glasses I see.”
Your face immediately flushed red, you wanted to run… until you felt Dark rubbing his thumb over your waist.
“You’ve got a pretty name, love.” He whispered in your ear.
“So what’d you bring the souper girl over here for?”
“Oh, fuck up Johnny. Or do I need to bring up the protestant girl you were running around with until her daddy found you in her bed?”
That shut him up quick, everyone else there seemed indifferent to what johnny had been annoyed about.
“D’you mind sittin’ on my lap, Dove? There ain’t enough chairs.”
“No, I don’t-“ Before you could finish he had taken his seat and tugged you down on top of him, he kept his hands to himself for the most part beside the left one resting on your hip, his right hand left open to hold his beer.
The conversation flowed from there and even chimed in now and then despite your nervousness, of course a few drinks helped. Everyone seemed to like you, while Johnny was still stewing in the corner.
Eventually the pub started to close and Dark offered to walk you home.
“Are you sure…?” You questioned, “It’s a little far.”
“I’ll be honest I can’t bring you back to mine unless you fancy us getting arrested.”
“Mine it is then. I’m sure mum will just be happy i’ve finally brought a lad ‘round…”
That earned a chuckle from him, “Sure she won’t mind?”
“She probably went to sleep hours ago.”
The two of you made the trek back to your neighborhood, his jacket going around you half way through after you complained of being cold. It smelled like cigarettes and the musky scent of him mixed with cologne.
When you got him into your room he took a seat on your bed.
“Shot in the dark but… you got anything I could sleep in..?”
“Uh… I think we have some of my da’s old clothes if you don’t mind that.”
“Whatever you’ve got to offer, Dove.”
You quietly went into the hallway closet and dug out some old clothes, bring them back, setting them on his lap. “Those should fit well enough.”
He slipped his sweater off and put on the old t-shirt, your eyes lingered on him a bit too long.
You cleared your throat and grabbed some pjs of your own. “I’ll change in the bathroom.”
“Wait-“ He grabbed your arm and spun you around, “Can I kiss you…?”
He was already so close he might as well have been, you look into his eyes for a moment before closing the gap between you. Your tangled lips soon become tangled limbs and the two of you land on your bed, clothes abandoned to the floor.
“You sure about this…?” He mumbled against your lips.
“Maybe we should wait…” You whisper, “If you don’t mind… I’d just like to know you better…”
“‘Course, Dove…” He mumbled.
“Suits ya…” He muttered, pulling you to his chest.
You settled against him, feeling quite content… god what are you getting yourself into?
vaporwave
dailybridgerton
theartofmadeline
blakekathryn
romaincrisis
