Hi, I'm Lee! I'm an adult who enjoys reading and writing fanfiction in my spare time. Sometimes that includes dark themes or nsfw. Please read all warnings carefully.
Characters I write for can be found on my Masterlist . Fandoms include: Peaky Blinders, The Bikeriders, Top Gun Maverick, The Last of Us, The Bear, Mobland and The Pitt.
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A/N: So sorry it took me ages to come with the next chapter. I was almost done but then decided to rewrite half of it. I haven't forgot about the fic and it's still continuing but a bit of life got in the way 🤭 Hope you enjoy!
Warnings: Smut, MDNI.
Words: 6.4k
MASTERLIST
They rode in comfortable silence, the horses moving at an easy pace along the narrow path. The wind carried the warmth of the afternoon across the fields but Aurelia was fairly certain the warmth in her cheeks had very little to do with the sun.
John rode slightly ahead at first. Every now and then his horse drifted closer to hers again, like he couldn't quite decide whether to lead or stay beside her.
Eventually he glanced over. There was a smirk sitting on his mouth. "Bit quiet now." He mentioned casually.
Aurelia kept her gaze ahead. "I'm enjoying the ride."
"Mm." John studied her, noticing how she was suppressing a smile. "Could've fooled me."
Her eyebrow lifted slightly. "Oh?"
"Yeah." He answered, shifting in the saddle. "You looked a bit… distracted back there."
Aurelia turned her head slowly. "Did I?"
"Mm." He hummed again, entirely too pleased with himself. "Thought you were the sensible one."
She let the silence stretch a moment before answering. "I was." She answered.
John chuckled under his breath. "Was."
She shot him a look. "If I recall correctly, Mr. Shelby." She dragged out the formal name on purpose. "You were the one who started it."
He grinned broadly. "Did I?"
"You did."
He considered that as he was genuinely trying to remember. "Can't say I regret it."
Aurelia shook her head faintly, though a smile was prominent on her lips. "You're impossible."
"You're the one ridin' out with me." He smirked.
"That was your invitation."
"And you accepted."
She glanced sideways at him. "That may have been a lapse in judgement."
John's grin widened. "Funny way of showin' it."
Aurelia exhaled a soft laugh, shaking her head as she guided her horse slightly ahead of his.
John watched her for a moment before nudging his own horse forward to catch up again. "Glad you brought that dress now, are you?" He teased. "Must be hungry after... all the ridin'."
"Oh shut up." She rolled her eyes playfully.
John leaned slightly closer in the saddle, voice dropping just enough to carry between them. "Don't pretend you're not curious."
Aurelia held his gaze until she nudged her horse forward again. "Don't get ahead of yourself."
John watched her ride ahead, a satisfied smile pulling on his lips, knowing this was definitely worth the trouble. "I know a faster route." He caught up with her again. "And I do mean faster. Give them a good run."
"Lead the way." She said coolly, although his teasing had sparked nerves low in her stomach that were impossible to ignore
The ride back slowed as they let the horses cool down and the estate came back into view, the wide fields giving way to the familiar gravel drive that curved toward the house.
Aurelia guided her horse alongside John's, the quiet bustle of the stables returning them gently to reality. John dismounted first, landing easily before reaching up to steady her horse as she swung down. His hand closed briefly around the reins near hers.
"Horse nearly outran you back there."
Aurelia looked up at him, brushing a bit of dust from her riding gloves. "I believe it was you who suggested the faster route."
John's mouth twitched slightly. "Didn't hear much complainin'."
She raised an eyebrow. "You wouldn't."
He chuckled under his breath, taking the reins of both horses and leading them inside. He tacked them off while Aurelia tried to help where she could. Eyes wandering over to John now and then, curiously watching him as she finally caught a glimpse of his true self.
When he finished and they both fed the horses some hay, he squeezed her elbow gently. "Come on."
They walked up the gravel path together, the house growing larger as they approached. The afternoon sun had softened now, long shadows stretching across the lawn.
John pushed the front door open and stepped aside to let her pass first. The quiet order of the house greeted them. The faint smell of polished wood and something warm from the kitchen drifted through the hall.
Footsteps approached as Ruth appeared from the corridor. "Mr. Shelby." She gave him a short nod before she looked over at Aurelia, a polite smile on her face. "Miss Aston, nice to see you again."
"Nice to see you too, Ruth." Aurelia smiled kindly.
John nodded in response. "Ruth." He glanced over at Aurelia. "Is the room ready for Miss Aston?"
"Yes, sir." Her gaze shifted politely to Aurelia. "If you'd like to follow me, Miss."
Aurelia glanced toward John. "I'm not staying the night, John."
"I don't expect you to." He answered before he looked at Ruth. "I got this, thank you."
Ruth nodded and turned to leave.
"Come." He nudged his head slightly, gesturing Aurelia to follow him.
She walked up the stairs after him. "John, I mean it, I'm-"
John stopped in front of one of the guest rooms and turned around, making her almost bump into him. "I said, I don't expect you to. But the least I could do is give you some space to change, don't I?" He raised his eyebrow cockily.
She looked up at him, feeling the warmth of his body close to hers.
"Relax." He warned gently before opening the door for her. "Take your time, dinner will be ready shortly."
The guest room was neat and airy, the late afternoon light falling through the tall window across the bed where her small suitcase had been placed next to.
"Okay...yes." She breathed softly.
The warmth of his hand on her waist made her look up again. She smiled and brought her hand to his neck, pulling him down slightly to press a soft kiss on his cheek. "Thank you."
John grinned as his thumb rubbed over the fabric of her coat. "I'll see you downstairs."
She watched how he made his way to his own bedroom, then the room fell quiet as she closed the door behind her. The ride replayed faintly in her mind, the laughter, the teasing, the warmth of his hand steadying hers.
And the kiss.
She exhaled softly and moved toward the bed, opening the suitcase. The dress inside was simple but elegant, a deep shade of blue that suited the evening light. She changed slowly, smoothing the fabric once it fell properly into place before adjusting her hair in the mirror.
By the time she stepped back into the hallway, the house had grown quieter. Following the faint sounds of movement downstairs, she made her way toward the main room.
John was leaning casually against the sideboard with a glass in hand. Sleeves rolled neatly to his forearms, waistcoat fitted sharply against his frame and a cigarette resting on his lips. He looked up the moment she stepped into the room, a look that slowly turned into a stare. He caught himself and pushed himself off the sideboard slowly, taking the cigarette between his fingers.
"Bloody hell." He muttered under his breath.
Aurelia stopped at the doorway. "Is something wrong?"
John shook his head faintly as he pressed his cigarette into an ashtray before walking toward her with an ease that suggested he had entirely forgotten the drink still in his hand. "No." He assured her. His eyes moved over her once more, slower this time. "Quite the opposite."
Aurelia felt the warmth rise in her chest under that look. She folded her hands lightly in front of her. "Well." She started calmly. "You did insist on dinner, so I thought to wear something nice."
John's mouth curved again. "Yeah." He offered his arm almost casually. "That, you do."
Aurelia regarded the arm he offered before placing her hand lightly against it. The gesture felt strangely formal for the two of them, considering what had happened not much earlier beneath an open sky.
John seemed to notice the same thing. He smirked lightly as he guided her toward the dining room. "Don't look so suspicious."
"I'm not suspicious." Aurelia replied smoothly. "I'm simply surprised."
"By what?"
She glanced up at him. "The sudden display of manners."
John huffed quietly. "Got plenty of 'em." He replied. "Just don't bring 'em out for everyone."
His words earned a small smile from her.
The dining room was already set when they entered. Candles had been lit, their warm glow reflecting off the polished wood of the table. Dinner had clearly been prepared with care.
John pulled out the chair for her before taking the seat opposite. The two of them settled, the quiet of the house wrapping around them.
A maid entered briefly to pour wine, then disappeared again without lingering.
John lifted his glass slightly. "To surviving the ride." He teased.
Aurelia tilted her head. "That's hardly an achievement."
"You nearly fell off twice."
"I did not."
"You did." He answered calmly, trying to see if she would bite more. "Horse just had the decency to correct it."
Aurelia stared at him. "I think we've known each other long enough that I can see trough some of your manipulation techniques now." She leaned back with a satisfied look on her face.
John smirked widely, not expecting she would call him out like that. "Easy, Miss Aston. I'm just messin' with you."
Dinner began easily enough after that. The conversation drifted through lighter subjects at first, horses, the countryside, a few dry remarks about the people John dealt with in town.
At one point Aurelia mentioned a business matter she had been working on in the city. John listened more closely than she expected, asking the occasional question with a surprising level of interest.
"You enjoy it." He observed, head tilted slightly.
"My work?"
"Yeah."
She nodded slightly. "It would be odd if I didn't. I mean, everything I have was built all by myself."
John leaned back a little in his chair, studying her. "Most people build things so they can stop workin' eventually."
"And what would I do with the time?"
He shrugged. "Enjoy it."
Aurelia considered that. "I do enjoy it."
Her answer seemed to satisfy him before they ate in comfortable quiet again. John's gaze drifted over her once more, slower this time, thoughtful in a way that made the air between them shift subtly again. "You look different tonight."
Aurelia set her glass down carefully. "Is that meant to be a compliment?"
"Yeah."
"It’s a terrible one."
John chuckled. "You looked good earlier too."
"In riding clothes?"
"Mhm." His voice dropped just slightly. "And without 'em."
Aurelia’s eyes lifted to meet his across the table before she took a slow sip of wine. She looked calm but she felt her pulse skip for a second. "You are very bold tonight, Mr. Shelby."
He leaned forward slightly, resting his forearms on the table. "Been bold all day."
Their eyes held again. A quiet tension stretched between them, lighter than before but not less present.
John broke it first, leaning back again as if nothing had happened. "Drink?" He asked, lifting the bottle.
Aurelia allowed herself a smile. "Just one more."
John topped up her glass before pouring one for himself, setting the bottle aside with a quiet clink.
The candlelight had deepened now that the evening had properly settled outside, the soft glow reflecting off the table and catching faintly in Aurelia's hair when she tilted her head. John had noticed it multiple times as his eyes drew him back to her every single time.
"So." He started, leaning back slightly in his chair. "London."
Aurelia looked up from her glass. "Yes?"
"You ever miss it?"
She thought about the question and shrugged her shoulders slightly. "Sometimes."
John nodded once, waiting for her to continue.
"It's… different." She continued. "Everything moves quickly. People speak like every moment is important."
"And here they don't?"
"Here people speak like they already know how things will end."
That earned a faint breath of a laugh from him. "Fair."
He took a sip of his drink. "You always plannin' on stayin' here? Or do you want to go back someday?"
"I built my company here."
"That wasn't my question."
Her eyebrows lifted slightly. "No." She agreed. Her eyes wandered over the table, then met John's again. "I'm not certain."
John looked at her quietly. "You don't like not knowin'."
"No. I don't."
He smirked slightly. "Thought so."
Aurelia rested her elbow lightly on the table, chin against her fingers as she looked at him. "You enjoy pointing that out."
"Enjoy watchin' you pretend you're not bothered."
"I’m not pretending."
"Mm."
She narrowed her eyes slightly. "You're very smug for someone who was half conscious in the street two nights ago."
John's lips parted slightly, the words stuck in his mouth. "Low blow."
She chuckled softly. "You deserve it."
He smiled at the sound of her. "Probably." He drank again, then his gaze drifted over her once more. "Glad you came."
The comment was simple, almost casual but something in his tone was different. Aurelia could tell immediately. "So am I."
The honesty seemed to surprise him. He looked down at his glass for a moment before pushing his chair back. "Come on."
Aurelia glanced up. "Where are we going?"
John shrugged as he stood. "Somewhere nicer."
She watched him walk around the table toward her side. "That sounds quite questionable."
"Hasn't stopped you before." He stood beside her chair, offering his hand this time instead of his arm.
Aurelia looked at it, then up at him. "You're being suspiciously charming tonight."
John gave a small shrug. "Don't get used to it."
The wink he gave her was the last push she needed. She placed her hand in his anyway. His grip was warm and steady as he helped her to her feet.
When she stood close enough, he leaned in just slightly, voice low enough that it barely carried beyond them. "Unless you like it."
Aurelia's breath caught and a soft laugh left her lips. "We'll see."
John's grin lingered as he led her into the sitting room, the door closing softly behind them. The room was warm with the low burn of the fire, shadows shifting lazily across the walls. He moved to the sideboard, pouring two fingers of whiskey into a pair of glasses without asking.
"Here." He said as he handed the glass to her. "Better than the stuff at dinner."
Aurelia accepted it, their fingers brushing briefly. "You say that as if I'm qualified to judge."
"You are now."
She lifted the glass, taking a small sip. The warmth spread slowly, welcome after the long ride and dinner.
John watched her over the rim of his own drink. "Careful, though. That one bites back."
"I'll take the risk."
"That seems to be a habit of yours."
Aurelia lowered the glass, giving him a measured look. "Once again, you invited me."
"Yeah."
"And you're surprised I came."
John smirked and shook his head. "Not surprised. Just… impressed."
"With what?"
"You keep sayin' yes."
Aurelia tilted her head slightly. "Should I stop?"
John let out a quiet chuckle under his breath. "Don’t start that."
She leaned one shoulder lightly against the wall, observing him. "Start what?"
"Pretendin' you don't know what you're doin'."
"And what exactly am I doing, John?"
He noticed how she said his name like it meant something more. He stepped a little closer, glass still in his hand, his expression calm but his eyes sharp with amusement. "Ridin' halfway across the countryside with me. Kissin' me like that… then sittin' here lookin' innocent."
Aurelia raised an eyebrow. "Innocent?"
"Yeah."
"You started every one of those things."
John nodded. "I did." He leaned slightly closer, voice lowering just enough. "But you did nothing to stop it."
Aurelia looked up at him, eyes challenging him as she took another sip of her whiskey. "No."
John watched her before letting out a soft breath through his nose, amused by the way she kept teasing him. "Fuckin' dangerous woman you are.” He finished his drink and set the glass down on the sideboard beside him.
He took her hand and moved toward the fireplace. "C'mere."
Aurelia frowned slightly. "Why?"
"Because." He muttered, gesturing toward the hearth.
The firelight caught the deep color of her dress as she moved. The quiet crackle of the fire filling the room again.
He glanced sideways at her, grinning. "You're smilin'."
Aurelia looked ahead, pressing her tongue against her teeth to stop herself.. "I am not."
"You are."
"That's the firelight."
John snorted softly. "Sure, Ree."
She finally turned her head toward him, the smile still there. "And you are enjoying yourself far too much."
"Course I am."
"Why?"
John shrugged lazily. "Good ride. Good whiskey." His gaze drifted back to her again. "Good company."
The way he said the last part made the air shift again. They caught each other's gaze.
John moved behind her. She felt his hands settle at her waist. He drew her back against him, the warmth of him eclipsing even the fire. He dipped his head to press a slow, certain kiss beneath her ear. When he pulled back, he let his chin rest on her shoulder. "Night's still young, eh?"
The sitting room had grown quieter as the evening deepened. The fire had burned lower, leaving the room wrapped in a softer glow, the kind that blurred the edges. Their glasses sat forgotten on the small table nearby. Somewhere along the way the conversation had faded. It had started with another drink, and another, a few shared laughs and the continuing of teasing remarks here and there.
Now Aurelia found herself half reclined against the arm of the sofa, John much closer than he had been a moment ago. Or perhaps much closer than either of them had intended.
Her legs rested on his lap, his hand on her thigh, warm and steady trough the fabric of her dress. His thumb moving gently as if he hand't quite noticed he was doing it.
"You were sayin' something." John murmured.
Aurelia dragged her attention away from him with some effort. "I was saying that I won't make it too late."
John hummed in acknowledgment, though it was clear he wasn't listening hard anymore. His attention had drifted to her lips, noticing how her lipstick had slightly smudged the corner of her mouth. Probably his fault. He reached out without overthinking it any longer, his thumb gently rubbing along her skin.
His touch lingered and they were both very aware of how close they were again.
John held her gaze, eyes soft but pupils widened.
Aurelia let out a slow breath. "This is a terrible idea."
"Probably." John quietly answered.
Neither of them moved away. John leaned in, their lips met once more, soft at first but the longer it lasted, every careful boundary they had been pretending to keep slipped quietly out of reach
John hovered over her on the sofa, one arm braced against the cushions beside her. His shirt had come open, the last few buttons had given up during one of their earlier kisses, leaving the fabric parted across his chest from where Aurelia's hands had caught it earlier. His waistcoat had long since been abandoned on the floor.
Aurelia suspected she looked little better herself. A few loose strands of her hair fell around her face, her dress had shifted higher where they had moved across the sofa, the dark fabric gathered slightly beneath John's hand as he had moved it up on her thigh.
John's lips had found her neck now, the slow trail of kisses along her skin drawing a soft breath from her that she didn't quite manage to hide. "John…"
The sound of his name seemed to pause him for only a moment. His hand moved slowly from her thigh, along the curve of her side before settling at her waist. His fingers tightened when she pulled him closer.
Aurelia tilted her head back just enough to give him space, her hands pulled him closer by his neck while her breath caught quietly as his lips brushed very carefully along her throat.
When John lifted his head again, a strand of hair had fallen loose across his forehead, his breathing slower but heavier than before. He looked at her and let out a soft laugh.
"You know..." He started, shaking his head slightly. "I don't know what you're doin' to me."
She felt her cheeks heathen up, her hands running down his chest as she softly sunk her teeth in her bottom lip,. "I could say the same to you."
His eyes darkened, lips turning into a soft smirk while he felt a joint of surprise in the pit of his stomach. "Yeah?"
She nodded, eyes not leaving his face.
John's eyes lingered, searching her as if he was trying to understand something.
Aurelia's fingers brushed the back of his neck. "What?"
He let out a huff. "Nothin'."
"John." There was a slight warning in the way she said his name.
His smile widened. "Really. Nothin'."
Her fingers came up in his hair, gently raking trough.
John reached up and tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear, his knuckles brushing her cheek. The gesture felt strangely gentle for a man like him.
His gaze dropped briefly to her lips before returning to her eyes. "We should probably call it a night."
Aurelia raised an eyebrow. "Probably?"
"Yeah." He didn't move.
A smile tugged at her mouth. "That doesn't sound very convincing."
John stared at her for a moment, then he chuckled. "No." He admitted. "It doesn't."
He stood and offered his hand. When she took it, his grip lingered longer than necessary. "Come on."
Aurelia smoothed her dress, though the faint flush in her cheeks remained. John ran a hand briefly through his hair, as if putting distance between them might improve the situation.
The soft sound of their footsteps broke the silence of the house as John led her towards the stairs. Once they reached the top, he stopped. Aurelia barely had time to look at him before he reached for her, one hand settling at her waist as he kissed her again. Whatever patience he had been trying to hold onto, finally ran out.
He guided her down the hall. The bedroom door closed softly behind them, shutting out the rest of the house. The room was dim, lit only by the low lamp near the bed and the faint glow from the lights outside that slipped through the curtains.
John's hand was still holding hers. Neither of them seemed in a hurry to let go.
Aurelia looked around the room briefly, the dark wood furniture, the neatly folded jacket draped over a chair, the books stacked on a side table. She noticed the faint scent of tobacco and cologne that seemed unmistakably his. It felt strangely intimate to be there, standing in a space that belonged entirely to John.
When she turned back, he was already watching her. His shirt hung open now. Aurelia's eyes lingered longer on the broad planes of his chest she met his gaze again.
A slow grin appeared on his face. "What?"
Aurlia shook her head. "Nothing."
"Bullshit."
She laughed at his reply.
John took a step closer. "You've been starin' at me."
"I have not."
His grin widened. "Right." The look he gave her made denial feel pointless.
After a moment his expression softened slightly. "Still time to change your mind, you know."
Aurelia closed the remaining distance between them. "That would be terribly disappointing."
John chuckled. "Yeah. Thought so."
He looked at her, ready to lean in before Aurelia beat him to it. Her hand came up to his jaw as their lips connected, making the rest of the room disappear. His hands settled at her waist as he pulled her closer, the warmth of his body drawing her in.
Aurelia's hands slid back to his chest, fingertips brushing across the skin beneath his open shirt before drifting upward around his shoulders to push it off entirely
A quiet hum of approval escaped him against her lips.
When they broke apart, John studied her again with that same soft, amused look he had given her the whole night. A smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth. "Impatient, are we?"
Aurelia smiled "You were taking too long."
He laughed. "Fair enough."
"You alright?" She asked softly.
"Haven't felt better."
"You sure about that?" Her hands drifted to his belt.
His gaze followed them, before returning to her face. "Yeah."
Her lips brushed softly against his as she worked the buckle free. "Could change your mind."
John exhaled trough his nose, eyes darkening with something more focused. "Could you now."
Aurelia pulled his trousers down, hand slowly sliding over his boxers before hooking her fingers in the waistband to pull it down, freeing him. She watched how his jaw tighten before she slowly wrapped her fingers around his member.
Her hand pumped his shaft gently, while a shaky sigh left his lips as he watched her trough half closed lids.
Her lips left a trail of soft kisses from his neck down to his chest, moving with just enough pressure to keep him desperate.
"Fuck..." A soft growl left his lips.
He watched her lower herself, leaving kisses all over his stomach before kneeling down in front of him. Before he could react, he felt her lips wrap around him, dragging another groan from his throat.
"Ree..." He let his head roll back slightly, eyes closing briefly and his hand in her hair to guide her.
Aurelia kept going. The room filled with low groans and quiet curses for a while until John spoke up.
"Fuck... Stop." His voice sounded shaky, his hand stayed tangled in her hair.
She looked up at him, slowing her pace.
His lips parted slightly. "I mean it... don't." His grip on her hair loosened when she let him go. "Fuckin' hell." A sharp exhale left him, jaw tightening as he looked away for a second, like that helped nothing at all.
Aurelia rose back up slowly, steadying against him and meeting his gaze, while she caught her own breath. "Was it-"
"It's fuckin' amazing, alright." John cut in before she could finish. "That's the problem." He let out a short, rough laugh as he pulled her close again.
A giggle left her mouth as he pressed his lips in her neck. "C'mere then."
His fingers found the small zipper of her dress and unfastened it with steady ease. The fabric loosened, slipping away as he guided her out of it without breaking eye contact for long. His hands found the opening of her bra, unclasping it effortlessly.
"Beautiful." He murmured.
Aurelia looked up at him, cheeks flushing lightly.
John tilted her chin up with a knuckle and kissed her slowly. His hand gently cupped her breast, while his thumb slid tenderly over her nipple, earning a soft whimper from her. His lips slowly trailed down from her neck to her breasts.
Her hand held onto the back of his head, as soft, breathy sounds left her mouth.
His fingers hooked into her panties, sliding them down her legs, abandoning them on the floor with the rest of their clothes.
A startled laugh slipped from her as he lifted her easily, her arms looping around his neck, lips finding his immediately. John exhaled a quiet laugh against her mouth, carrying her toward the bed without breaking the rhythm between them.
Her fingers ran over his toned chest as he hovered over her, the warmth of their bodies drawing each other in.
Aurelia's breath hitched when his hand moved between her legs, slow but certain. Moans escaped her lips as his fingers worked gently on her.
John watched how her composure slipped in small, telling ways she didn't bother hiding from him anymore. He felt her hands slip to his shoulders, fingers digging into his skin.
"John..." She gasped, breath quickining as her hips reacted to his movements.
"Mhm." He hummed softly in her ear as he added pressure with his thumb.
She felt his fingers curl, each motion more intense than the other, hitting every spot she needed him to.
Moans and whimpers became louder while he drove her closer to the edge. Her grip on his shoulders tightened and John felt the last of her resistance disappear. For a moment she could only bury her face against him, as she tried to catch her breath.
A low chuckle left his mouth as he looked at her. "There you go." A low whisper reached her ears, his breath brushing against her skin.
She met his eyes, cheeks warm and hair undone in a way that didn’t quite belong to the careful version of herself she usually showed the world. Her hands slid down his arms slowly, then settled around his biceps.
John's lips parted slightly to make another remark until she caught him off guard by pulling him into a messy kiss. A pleased groan was muffled against her lips when he felt her hips gently moving against his.
Aurelia's nails traced across his skin, sending a ripple of goosebumps over his arms.
"Needy, eh?" He murmured against her lips, voice lower now.
"Yes." Her answer came without hesitation, breath catching slightly as she looked at him.
He watched her before he responded. "Lemme fix that for you."
John positioned himself, hand steady on her waist as the other braced himself on the mattress beside her.
A gasp left her mouth when she felt him stretch her in the way she so desperately wanted. His hips rolled steadily against hers while he let out a low grunt.
Her legs wrapped themselves around him as he served her the delicious friction they were both chasing. She reached for his hand, holding it before she intertwined their fingers.
He took both her hands in his and pinned them above her head while he leaned in closer. His gaze fixed on hers, breathing turning heavier.
John's thrusts became faster and strokes deeper. He watched how Aurelia tilted her head back, eyebrows furrowed while pleasure took over. Her fingers tightening against him as the world narrowed to nothing but touch and heat and the sound of their breathing tangled together.
"Oh fuck... John..."
Low groans escaped his throat before he let go of her hands and grabbed one of her legs, lifting it to rest it on his shoulder while his other hand held onto her hip.
"Mm... Ree." He felt her every move, every shiver, every small gasp and it drove him mad in the best way.
The rest of the house had long since fallen silent. Only the bedroom remained awake, filled with uneven breaths and the occasional creak of the bed beneath them. Nothing else seemed to matter, all that was left was the press of bodies, the rhythm of breath, and the way she kept saying his name like it meant something more every time.
John's back rested against the headboard, one arm draped lazily across the pillow behind him. His eyes lingered on Aurelia as she lay next to him. Her cheeks were still flushed, her hair spread across the sheets beneath her. He found himself looking longer than he meant to
John reached toward the nightstand, his fingers closing around the cigarette case. He flipped it open and slid a cigarette free, settling it between his lips. The metallic click of his lighter broke the silence as the flame flickered to life.
He took a drag and glanced back at her. "Want one, love?"
Smoke curled from his lips as he paused "D'you even smoke?" A faint frown crossed his face. "Come to think of it, I've never seen you do it."
She looked up at him, taking in the sight of the man hanging nonchalantly against the headboard. "Sometimes."
"Sometimes?"
She shifted closer, gathering the blanket around herself. "Usually after a few drinks."
He hummed at her answer.
A small smirk tugged at her mouth. "Or when I've had sex with my boss."
John stared at her for a second, then he laughed. "Jesus Christ." His grin widened as he shook his head. "You've got an answer for everythin', haven't you?"
Aurelia smiled at him.
"Might as well start another round if you keep speaking like that." He smirked.
"I wouldn’t mind." She teased as she moved closer, her hand resting on his chest.
"Course not." John smirked. He took another drag of his cigarette and tipped her chin up gently. Their lips met for a brief, lingering kiss, then he blew smoke carefully into her mouth. "Me neither."
Aurelia let the smoke escape slowly while John watched her. He handed her the cigarette. "I thought I had you figured out by now. Turns out you've been holdin' out on me."
She put the cigarette between her lips, inhaling before passing it back. Smoke curled toward the ceiling as it escaped from her mouth. "Maybe you didn't try hard enough."
John chuckled. "If I was only just as observant as you are…" He winked, putting the cigarette back between his lips.
Aurelia rested her head against his chest. "You know more about me than you tell me."
"Hm." He hummed. "I like to be the observer now and then."
"Now and then." She chuckled and looked up at him. "Of course."
He smiled and took the cigarette from his lips before placing it between hers, holding it until she was done. "I remember you sittin' in my office downstairs for the first time." His other hand came up into her hair, fingers carefully brushing trough it while a grin grew on his face. "And look at you now."
"Oh shut up." She slapped the back of her hand softly against his chest. "I’m not that kind of person."
"Your actions speak so loudly, I can't hear what you're sayin'." He smirked.
She looked up at him, her lips parting slightly. "John!" She scolded, though the smile tugging at the corners of her mouth took the sting out of it. "It's your fault."
"Oh is it?" He stubbed the cigarette into the ashtray. "Is it that or is it because you like me?" His smirk grew wider.
Aurelia held his gaze, feeling a jolt in the pit of her stomach. "Maybe both." She mumbled.
He let his hand rest on her waist. "What was that?"
"I said maybe both."
"Thought so." He grinned and caught her hand between his fingers. The kiss he gave her was slower than the ones before.
"You know." He murmured. "For a clever woman, you miss some pretty obvious things."
Aurelia frowned, as her eyes searched his face. "Such as?"
He grinned. "The fact I took you halfway across the countryside."
A small laugh left her lips. "That's your evidence?"
"Nah." His eyes wandered down to her hands. "Just one of many."
She simply looked at him, the smile on her lips faltering slightly before understanding settled across her face. "Oh."
John looked up at her then, grin tugging at his mouth as he watched her reaction unfold.
Aurelia let out a quiet laugh, shaking her head as if at herself. Her body turned to straddle him, arms slipping loosely around his neck.
His eyes followed her movements, until they locked on hers. His hands rested on her waist, thumbs tracing her skin in a way that made her breath hitch.
"I like the sound of that." She admitted, studying his face. "You know... the thing you're not saying."
For once he didn't have a smart answer ready. Just watched her with an expression that was becoming increasingly difficult to hide.
"You're much softer like this." She murmured, noticing the rare absence of walls behind his eyes. Her lips brushed his softly. When she pulled back she held his gaze, fingers soft against his cheek.
His hand settled at the small of her back as he leaned into her touch. A strange warmth stirred in his chest, light and restless, like a thousand wings beating beneath his ribs. He couldn't remember the last time someone had looked at him this way. Or made him want to stay still long enough to be seen.
Aurelia held his face gently as she pressed small, lingering kisses across his skin.
John let her.
His hand drifted slowly along her back, his thumb tracing absent patterns. It was then that he realized he hadn’t been cared for like this in a very long time. Not just the soft touches and the caring gestures but the way she looked at him, as though there was something worth holding onto beneath all the sharp edges.
Each kiss seemed to drive the truth a little deeper. She didn't want something from him, had no expectations. She cared.
A tightness rose in his throat, sudden and unwelcome. He stared past her shoulder for a moment, willing it away. Men like him weren't supposed to be undone by tenderness. Yet his eyes burned all the same.
He closed them, concentrating on the steady rhythm of his breathing the sting behind his eyes betraying the calm he was trying to hold. Then he felt her lips brush softly against one eyelid. His hand tightened slightly against her waist.
"Enough of that." He murmured, knowing he wouldn't be able to stop himself if she kept going.
He gently pushed her back far enough to reach for her face, pulling her in. The kiss was immediate and needy, carrying everything he couldn't bring himself to say aloud. And when the ache behind his eyes finally eased, he slowly pulled away.
She looked at him, breathless and smiling. "Damn it, John."
A laugh escaped him as his hands slid down her body. "What?" He asked, amusement in his eyes.
Before she could answer he rolled both of them over with ease in one fluid motion. He braced himself beside her head and let his weight settle, just enough to remind her who was in control.
A surprised sound broke from her, quickly dissolving into laughter.
“I think you deserve something more, eh?” He smirked. His hand brushed a loose strand of hair behind her ear before he leaned down.
Their lips found each other effortlessly, while their bodies moved slowly in sync. The room faded into the quickening rhythm of breath and movement, the kind that didn’t need anything said at all.
@peakyltd I'm certain this is how I looked as I read this chapter, Daisy! John is so charming 😍 And I love the flirtatiousness between them throughout the ride and dinner. The playful banter built to an incredible climax in the bedroom (no pun intended).
Most of all, I adored the glimpse of vulnerability beneath John's bravado. I was teary eyed when he got emotional at the end 🥹 He's so in love!! As always, your writing reads like poetry and I never wanted it to end. Now if you'll excuse me, I have to go squeal into my pillow 🤭
A/N: Ada and Irene are best friends and maybe something more? Part of my American Teenager AU.
Irene sat quietly at the Robinson's kitchen table, feeling disconnected from reality as her mother explained Ada wouldn't be returning to finish her senior year. Irene began to shake as the rush of blood through her ears muffled the words that came next. Glancing down at the xo tattoo on her wrist, her mind wandered to happier times when she and Ada sat side by side getting inked. Ada held her hand the whole time, allowing Irene to cling to her for support. She wished she could live there forever.
The unlikely friendship of a sarcastic, irreverent brunette and a soft spoken, artistic blonde came to be the year before when they struck up a conversation about music during Study Hall. Their debates about the best bands of all time led to hours spent making compilations of their fave songs to share with each other. Ada's CDs were often untitled except for a cheeky message like "Trust me" scrawled across the front in smudged marker. Irene's were decorated with hand drawn designs and a track list with notes to evidence the thoughtful process behind her choices.
By the time the weather turned cold, they were spending every afternoon together in the warmth of the Robinson's shed, the frayed wire of Irene's earbuds dangling between them. And when Ada suggested they smoke weed to enhance the experience, Irene didn't object. In fact, she silently reveled in the closeness each time Ada would shotgun smoke into her open mouth.
It was around this time she began to wonder if her friend might sense her infatuation as their lips brushed in the haze of smoke or savored the taste of the cherry lollipop passed between them. A kiss seemed inevitable six months ago. Now she learned Ada was pregnant? Nothing made sense. As Irene drifted back to the present, she found her cheeks wet with tears. They continued to flow until the day Ada left town with her new boyfriend.
"Tell me why, Ada..." Irene sniffled, unable to let go when something lay broken between them.
“Freddie loves me,” Ada uttered softly, her brown eyes large and apologetic.
Don’t you know how much I love you? Irene wanted to scream as she watched Ada shove her belongings into the back of Freddie’s car.
Irene banged on the passenger side window as the engine roared to life. "Don't leave," she begged, pressing her hand to the glass. But Ada couldn't bring herself to look Irene in the eye.
“She might be your girl now, but she was my girl first,” Irene thought, as Freddie drove away with Ada, unsure how she’d been left behind.
The title says it all. You hear that Freddie Thorne?! She was Irene's girl first 😤!
Can't believe you broke these two up and my heart...again 😭. I can't imagine an AU or even canon world without them.
Glancing down at the xo tattoo on her wrist, her mind wandered to happier times when she and Ada sat side by side getting inked. I live for these little details. But this one feels like it will be a very bitter sweet one for Irene, everytime she looks at it.
Ada's CDs were often untitled except for a cheeky message like "Trust me" scrawled across the front in smudged marker. This made me snort a laugh. I love how her and Irene are almost polar opposites in everything, but they make it work in their own way that's truly endearing.
Ada would shotgun smoke into her open mouth. So hot 👌🏼.
"Don't leave," she begged, pressing her hand to the glass. But Ada couldn't bring herself to look Irene in the eye. Ada noooo 😭. I've just realised this is on the same timeline as your other series! The emotional wreckage you're doing to my heart right now, Lee 😩.
unsure how she’d been left behind. This right here! Because I'm asking the same thing. They were practically joined at the hip. But I think the big difference between Ada and Irene is, Ada kinda bulldozes through life, and gets swept up into the next thing, whereas Irene is more cautious but long lasting. So it's maybe easier for Ada to keep moving forward while Irene is left thinking when the sudden change happened, If that makes any sense? Which it probably doesn't 😂.
@brummiereader I promise I didn't intend to create an "I Hate Freddie" fan club, but it appears we have matching jackets now so I reckon we wear 'em? 😆
But srsly, you nailed it when you mentioned Ada having a recklessness about her. She doesn't mean to hurt Irene, but she knows she has when they talk by the car. You're also right about Irene's willful ignorance. Ofc she's aware of Freddie, but she doesn't want to think about that until it's too late.
No matter how much I torment them, I do desperately want them to find one another again! Flor mentioned that perhaps Freddie dies and Ada and Irene raise Karl together. Juli weighed in as well, suggesting some song inspo about bffs killing the husband and moving to the country. I have to say, I don't hate the idea of Ada and Irene operating a roadside strawberry stand 💕 Sounds pretty idyllic to me!
A/N: Ada and Irene are best friends and maybe something more? Part of my American Teenager AU.
Irene sat quietly at the Robinson's kitchen table, feeling disconnected from reality as her mother explained Ada wouldn't be returning to finish her senior year. Irene began to shake as the rush of blood through her ears muffled the words that came next. Glancing down at the xo tattoo on her wrist, her mind wandered to happier times when she and Ada sat side by side getting inked. Ada held her hand the whole time, allowing Irene to cling to her for support. She wished she could live there forever.
The unlikely friendship of a sarcastic, irreverent brunette and a soft spoken, artistic blonde came to be the year before when they struck up a conversation about music during Study Hall. Their debates about the best bands of all time led to hours spent making compilations of their fave songs to share with each other. Ada's CDs were often untitled except for a cheeky message like "Trust me" scrawled across the front in smudged marker. Irene's were decorated with hand drawn designs and a track list with notes to evidence the thoughtful process behind her choices.
By the time the weather turned cold, they were spending every afternoon together in the warmth of the Robinson's shed, the frayed wire of Irene's earbuds dangling between them. And when Ada suggested they smoke weed to enhance the experience, Irene didn't object. In fact, she silently reveled in the closeness each time Ada would shotgun smoke into her open mouth.
It was around this time she began to wonder if her friend might sense her infatuation as their lips brushed in the haze of smoke or savored the taste of the cherry lollipop passed between them. A kiss seemed inevitable six months ago. Now she learned Ada was pregnant? Nothing made sense. As Irene drifted back to the present, she found her cheeks wet with tears. They continued to flow until the day Ada left town with her new boyfriend.
"Tell me why, Ada..." Irene sniffled, unable to let go when something lay broken between them.
“Freddie loves me,” Ada uttered softly, her brown eyes large and apologetic.
Don’t you know how much I love you? Irene wanted to scream as she watched Ada shove her belongings into the back of Freddie’s car.
Irene banged on the passenger side window as the engine roared to life. "Don't leave," she begged, pressing her hand to the glass. But Ada couldn't bring herself to look Irene in the eye.
“She might be your girl now, but she was my girl first,” Irene thought, as Freddie drove away with Ada, unsure how she’d been left behind.
@peakyswritings My poor babies, I love them so much, I must torture them in every AU 🙈 To answer your question, I don't think Ada is afraid to show her affection for Irene. Our little heartbreaker is just a whirlwind of chaotic energy, moving from one thing to the next so quickly she doesn't think about consequences. She absolutely has a moment of regret leaving Irene behind, but by then it's too late to back out of her plans with Freddie. As always, ty for loving and supporting my OC! It means the world to me that others are as invested as I am 💗
This is a one shot connected to a modern AU John Esme piece I am working on that's based on thoughts I had about Johns mental health & his own relationship to fatherhood. ( link here - https://archiveofourown.org/works/85656036 )
───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────
A lively voice broke through the haze of drunken whispers around him, his head shooting up, “Well look who it is!”. The tall muscular man stood openly, arms already stretching outwards. With a groan, the younger, averted his eyes at the recognition of his brother. A trail of alcohol creeping in right behind him.
“Piss off Arthur”, he shifted in his seat. Seriously? Does it look like I have fucking time for this right now?
“Oh come on John boy! Don’t be boring.”, the corners of the man’s mouth stretched out wide mimicking that of a conman. Sizing up the other, how many hits it would take. John’s shoulders hunched down with exhaustion. Yet, with a sigh, he gave in. Standing up he plastered on a smile and performed a simple shrug. A slight apathy still hiding in his eyes.
Arthur gave out a bellowed cheer in delight. Clasping his hands on his brother's shoulder and hurriedly guided him towards the pub’s bar. Banging his hands on the counter as he confidently recited an order as old as time.
“2 Irish whiskey’s neat!”
Arthur turned to face John, “You caught up with dad lately?”, an all too cheery tone for the question. John shot him a glance, his nose wrinkled. Right, a hurt dog doesn’t leave its owner.
“Why the fuck would I want to?”, he shot back. Quickly he turned on his heels, drink in hand. Ready as ever to sprint as far as possible. Arthur’s hand tightly clasped itself on his arm. Squeezing him back in. A dumbfounded look was etched into his brother's face. Rolling his eyes he shook off the iron grip. Carefully marching his way through the drunken crowd. Arthur hurriedly followed behind.
Suddenly John halted to a stop. Swiftly he turned, “Fuck off Arthur.”, his breathing ragged with contempt. Still not getting it. Staring down at his brother his eyes narrowed. “Sorry that I have a fucking brain eh? That I can see what he’s fucking trying to do.” John barked. Arthur’s smile dropped.
“You’re being unreasonable John. He’s changed, I know he has.”, he took a step forward, “If you just talked to him you’d-” a loud crack as John’s fist collided straight into his brother's jaw. Arthur stared back in disbelief. Blood filling up his mouth. With a gruff look he spit it out.
“You going to hit me back? We both know you want to eh? The apple never falls far from the fucking tree.” John jeered. The older brother’s fists clenched, shallow breaths as he tried to push the rage back in his throat. With a sigh John knocked back the rest of his drink, his body swaying as it moved towards the bathroom.
“He’s fucking changed.” Arthur said through gritted teeth. With a sudden hurriedness he lunged forward. Gripping John’s shirt and pushing him against a wall. John suddenly froze. A sudden peacefulness to his face, acceptance almost. Narrowing his eyes Arthur looked at his brother with sudden disgrace. The two brothers stared at each other for a moment, one fast one controlled.
Then John flung his head forward smashing it against Arthur. He stumbled back as his body wobbled. A fury lit within him. Crowds began to pause, murmuring whispers, forming a circle around the two. Punches were flung around as sweat went flying. Arthur stumbled forward as John ducked around and under the punches.
Finally, a barman cried out, “Oi! Stop or get out of here.”. With a halt the boys finally paused. Their breaths heavy. Disheveled hair held up with sweat. John’s eyes were glassy as he took in what he had done. Stumbling back he bolted into the bathroom. A cubicle door slamming shut.
Arthur instantly chased after him. Calling out the younger boy's name with caution. Shit. Too far. Fuck, too far. The sound of hurried paced steps made their way through the locked door. Arthur hesitated right by the sinks. Conflict working its way through his brain.
“Why?”, he finally croaked.
“Go.”, a broken out cry, “Please.” Arthur let out a deep sigh. Solemnly he sulked back away, each movement sending a hurling reminder of tonight’s events. Secretly, and not without guilt, he sent out an alert. His fingers twitched as each key was pressed. With a slow deep breath he freed himself of his own guilt, sharing it is easier is it not?
A strangled cry escaped John’s throat, another door slammed. John thrashed his fist into the stall door. Pale white flesh of his knuckle ripping apart against the cool hard plastic. A steady stream of tears had begun to flow freely. At least he knows how to forgive. A dull buzz rang out through his pocket. Fuck. The date.
It had taken John & Esme a year to finally admit that it had never been casual, for either of them. They were to be finally celebrating a month that night. John lurched over to the porcelain seat nearby. An ache grew from his stomach as its very few contents spilled right out. “Missus Twat”, light of the screen burning his eyes, shakily he accepted.
“Hey, you ready?”
“Yeah, about that actually.” John let out a muffled wince as he moved, “Already at the Garrison, me and Arthur got into a thing.”. Esme let out an agitated swear. The pitch of her voice raised ever so slightly. John carefully cut Esme off, “It’s not that big a deal alright. Just a little disagreement, you can meet me here.”, he argued.
The explosive sound of shrieken singing came bursting out, John winced. Mumbling apologies to Esme he pulled away. Attention turned to the familiar shoes that stood at the door. Arthur. Can’t get worse from here can it?, “Let me guess Arthur sent you.” he accused. A high pitched squeak broke the silence as John unlocked the door painstakingly slowly.
John couldn’t look Thomas in the eyes, staring off to the side as shame coursed through his veins. Thomas’s brows furrowed as the pieces of John’s appearance clicked in his mind. He tilted his head towards the sink. John trembled as he awkwardly limped forward. Resting himself up against the sink. Thomas returned with the first aid kit in hand. His eyes flickered to and from John. Clusters of his skin had already mottled. Shades of purple, green, blue blooming out from under. Thankfully, the bleeding had slowed itself already. Coagulated clumps remain on his knuckles, bits and pieces smeared throughout his hair.
With a cough Thomas caught John’s attention. The grovelled tone of voice shook something back into place.
“It’s going to sting.”, an absent nod. John winced through his teeth as the wipe gently ran across his skin. Thomas took it all in. The glassy eyes, clenched jaw, sharp breaths.
“You miss her?”
John finally dared to look at Thomas. His eyes were narrow, a command. Yes. “It’s fine.” Thomas took in a sharp breath. They had been here before. “Don’t give me that shit John,” his voice suddenly apprehensive, “we all miss her.” The room fell into silence as Thomas carefully inspected the rest of the boy's wounds. Don’t. They don’t get it. Not like this. Thomas took his time carefully wrapping the bandage around John’s knuckles. Everything about him was all too composed for a place like this, a night like this. “At least now Esme won’t lose it when she sees you.”, he teased.
John ran his hand over his face, exhaustion taking over. “Yeah.” His eyes darted around the room. Thousands of possibilities ran through his head, racing to plan out the solution for each. Make the blow into as much of a gentle touch as he could. Thomas clicked his tongue.
“How ‘bout we get you a drink then? That’ll help,” he instructed. John aggressively nodded his head. He bolted up, staggered his way right back to the bar. Thomas carefully drifted through the crowd after. Cold blue eyes, burning a hole directly into John’s head. It didn’t take him even a second before a first shot was ordered, and downed. Thomas clapped John on the shoulder as he coughed. Signaling to the barman for another round.
At the clicking sound of kitten heels, John whipped around. “She’s here,” If any god exists please save me now. Esme bolted forward, her hand grasping John’s jaw. The man winced as he was posed around for her inspection. He scanned around for his brother's backup only to deflate, none to be found.
“What did you do?”, fuck, “Nothing.”
Esme raised her eyebrow, fluent in his language, John gripped her wrist. Carefully he led the way to their spot. Esme sat up straight in the booth. Her arms crossed carefully around her chest, her shield. John looked down at the table. Carefully he tried to steady his breath. Esme’s brows furrowed, Don’t look, her hand gliding across to his. He raced his hand into hers. All of his weight tunnelled into his grasp. Dying men will still grasp for a lifeboat.
“Arthur thinks I need to catch up with ,” his voice cracked, “our dad.”
Esme squeezed her hand back. “Get what he was doing but, fuck, today of all days.”, there was no light left in the boys voice. Esme shifted herself closer towards John. She rested her hand on his cheek, gentler than before, with admiration in her eyes.
“You could have called me-.”
“No, you don’t really want that Esme,” his head peeled away from her hand. The look in her eyes crumpled, Remember, she doesn’t know. If she did she would agree. Don’t fuck this up, or at least try to not fuck it up more.
“Just leave it. It’s our anniversary. Got plans for us tonight,” he teased.
“What, so I can kiss you better? Esme batted her lashes, a subtle smirk on her lips. “That could be arranged,” he hummed. John grinned wildly as Esme turned back, searching for a nearby spot. Esme released a gasped moan, John's body slinked around the table as their lips met. Pulling his head into her hands she pulled them to the bathroom. Their bodies tangled together on the way. Abruptly Esme pulled them away into a stall. A hypnotic look on her eyes, “Come get me.”
John dived in. His lips met Esme’s with passion, a soft hum escaping her lips. John grasped Esme’s waist. Pulling her body taut against his. She let out a soft gasp as her back met with cool plastic. John gently lifted her leg up, the heel of her shoe scraping against his back. Frustrations from the night melted away as his mouth began to travel down her neck. Esme’s nails scratched against his head. Slowly he went further and further down, sinking lower onto his knees. Esme whined as John’s lips pulled away. She melts with a sigh as his fingers graze exactly where she needs them.
“Oh you like that don’t you?” Esme nodded furiously. John darted his tongue out against the center of her legs. Her hands tugged at his hair, leading him exactly where she wanted. John stilled his tongue as Esme rutted herself against his mouth. His pupils were blown wide as he watched her in a haze of his own pleasure. The fog of fury was lifted into waves upon waves of pure euphoria. Esme’s deep brown eyes met his, her breath just as wild as his, and he dove in with fervor. Moans and gasps of delight breaking out through Esme’s breathy laughs. John gripped her thigh, her breath hitching.
He nibbled just below where she craved him, he stared at her sweetly. The gentle boyish charm that made him hers shone brightly in his eyes. “What do you say we take this elsewhere? So much left to do. “ Esme smirked, she knew she should be mad but this always was more fun. John let her be wild, he reveled in it. Esme ghosted her heel around the tightness in his jeans. He let out a sharp curse, hips bucking. Esme teased, a sly smirk as she made a show of her exit. John pushed himself up, wincing with the reminder from before, darting himself right after Esme. A smirk of his own right where it belonged.
This was good! You really depicted the violence and self destructive habits of the brothers so well. Arthur's faith in their dad always breaks my heart, and John's self destructive mentality sucks me in.
I will definitely need to hop onto your AO3 for more!
@scruffydogyap I agree with Ginger that this feels spot on for the brothers! Their emotions live right at the surface waiting to explode, which is exactly how John reacts to Arthur. You created such a lovely contrast with Tommy's composed demeanor. It reminded me of the S1 scene when he's counseling John. However, the detail of him being too calm for the situation was a clever addition bc we know he's always anxiously recalibrating everything in his head. And I can't forget Esme's cameo bc the feisty part of her personality is so well balanced with the tender affection she holds for John. I'm sure he forgot all about his father by the end of the night!
A/N: Tommy struggles to break free from small town life and his father's shameful legacy. Part of my American Teenager AU.
Tommy's boots thudded across the weathered floorboards, avoiding the picture on the wall he feared he was coming to resemble too closely. He stuffed his bruised knuckles into his jacket, turning his pocketknife over in his hand absently. Then he barreled out the front door to get a jump on the Kimber boys lying in wait.
It had never been in Tommy's nature to be violent, but his father always demanded it, deriving twisted pleasure in pushing his boy to fight back. "If they strike once, you just hit 'em twice as hard," the ruthless patriarch would say, a glimmer of light escaping the dark abyss of his eyes. It was the same sickening look of satisfaction that came over him when he was butchering a deer or watching their mother cower in fear of his ringed hand.
Tommy's senior year of high school was spent waiting for the day he'd escape, the same as his brother Arthur had done two years before when he enlisted in the Army. "M not gonna die in this fucking house," Tommy told his siblings and he meant it. It didn't matter that his father had been in prison for four years, awaiting lethal injection. They all expected Arthur Sr. to walk through the door any time, having made a pact with the DA or the devil.
In the end, he never did, but somehow the scandal left in his wake was worse. Girls in town weren't allowed to spend time with the Shelby boys. The fevered murmurs rose whenever Aunt Pol brought them to church. "The man beat his wife to death. You're a fool to think it isn't in their blood too!" Then the choir would sing a heartfelt tune about forgiveness, but all Tommy ever heard was "God loves you, but not enough to save you."
Lizzie Stark was the rare exception. Unafraid of the terrible rumors, she openly pursued Tommy. "I'm never gonna leave you," she promised every time he pressed her into the old worn mattress. She would have followed him across every state line, but he left her waiting four long years without a word.
@zablife this one felt so much darker than the others you've written so far with Arthur Sr. story mixed into it.
avoiding the picture on the wall he feared he was coming to resemble too closely. And I truly think this was always a fear of Tommy's. It's a gutting realisation when you see yourself slowly morphing into someone you resent 😬.
It had never been in Tommy's nature to be violent, but his father always demanded it, deriving twisted pleasure in pushing his boy to fight back. Gosh, I love how you've explored where that violence in the siblings likely originated from. It was literally taught and undoubtedly beaten into them. Very hard thing to change the course of how your life started. Even harder to battle against it when you're not violent by nature. Poor Tommy 😔.
It didn't matter that his father had been in prison for four years, awaiting lethal injection - "The man beat his wife to death. You're a fool to think it isn't in their blood too!" God 😬. That's an horrific event to follow you through your child and teen years. Like, can you ever really escape the gossip and scandal of that? And it looks like they all tried to in different ways.
Lizzie and Tommy are cut from the same cloth. And the fact that she was the only one to not join in with the towns gossip, speaks volumes about her character ❤️. Because at the end of the day, the Shelby's lost their mum too.
@brummiereader Yeah, I really leaned into his dark side here, imagining the absolute worst based on what we know from canon. The scene where he fights Arthur has never left my mind bc he's so brutal. It didn't seem like a leap to imagine him losing his temper with his wife and beating her to death. I honestly can't imagine what that would be like for his children to process. I'm not sure Tommy ever does. I imagine he avoids sentimentality about Lizzie's kindness bc he fears the rage that could be lurking inside himself. And if he thinks he has an ounce of his father's cruelty within, he would try to keep his distance. (Ofc that's a bit difficult when they're fucking, but Tommy is good at compartmentalizing.) Tysm for reading, Brummie! Reading your insightful comments always makes my day ☀️
Welcome back sports fans, I hope you’re ready for a whole lot of YELLING! As ever, I live for your reactions so if you enjoy, please do let me know - comments are love 🤍 Thanks as always to my beta reader and bestie in crime, @peakyscillian for all her help! xx
Summary: After the disastrous end to their weekend, Steve and Bella return to school. But if they thought things were bad already, they are about to get much, much worse.
Warnings: themes of drug addiction and infidelity.
Word count: 10,894 PART 8 | SERIES
9. Resignation
It took a long time for you to recover enough to be able to tell Celia what had happened with Steve. You hated smoking in the house - it always reminded you of your mother - so, wrapped in coats against the coolness of the evening, you sat in the back garden and smoked your way slowly and deliberately through an ill-advised chunk of your remaining cigarettes, while giving her the edited lowlights of the day, your words coming in fits and starts as waves of emotion stole your ability to speak time and again.
"Fucking hell…" Celia murmured as you finally lapsed into an exhausted silence. "I can't believe… but he's a headmaster?? How is that even possible?"
You shrugged, lighting a fresh cigarette, offering the dwindling pack to her, which she declined with a flick of her scarlet manicure. "He's not completely wrong when he says it's under control, I suppose. He knows how much he can take without anyone being able to tell. Even I couldn't tell…"
"But still…" Celia shook her head with a sigh, reaching for the packet after all, sparking one to life. "Did you really mean it about handing your notice?"
Nodding tightly, you sucked hard on your cigarette, holding onto the smoke until it burned.
"I can't stay there, not after this," you whispered, the words cloudy in front of you. "How am I supposed to go to work with him every day after..?" A sob caught in your throat and you covered your mouth with your hand, shoulders shaking. Celia dragged her seat even closer, wrapping her arms around you.
"You shouldn't have to lose your job because he's a fucking druggie. You should report him," she mumbled against your hair.
"I can't do that to him," you hiccuped. "I love him."
She pulled back, covering your free hand with hers, studying you as she smoked.
"But what are you going to do?"
You'd been asking yourself that since the M4 when the doubts about your circumstances had begun to whisper in the back of your head. But unfortunately you hadn't yet managed to come up with a compelling response.
Avoiding her worried eyes, you tapped your ash into saucer on the table. "I don't know," you whispered.
***
Lying in bed that night, Helen's soft, rhythmic snores beside him, Steve wasn't sure which was worse: the fact he'd come home higher than he'd ever been around his family, or the fact that Helen hadn't even seemed to notice. She'd wrinkled her nose at the vague smell of smoke on his clothes and he'd fumbled an excuse that people had been smoking in the conference he'd told her he was at. Another event to promote what they were doing at Stanton.
I can't do this…I'm sorry…
Your words plagued him as he lay in the dark. He couldn't stop picturing the look in your eyes in the moment you had decided it was over. Like you'd looked into him and knew he was beyond help. Or worse: that you had finally understood that he didn't deserve your kindness, or your love. Not after what he'd done.
But it still burned all the same. As the excessive amount of oxy he'd taken in the car began to wear off and the pain seeped back in, the aching loss of you was raw in his chest. How was he supposed to just carry on like everything was normal? How was he supposed to be without you? The very idea of it sent something like panic flickering through him, not as intense, but not unlike the feeling that morning when he couldn't find his pills.
My resignation will be on your desk in the morning…
It had barely been a year but he couldn't remember what life at Stanton had been like without you. Being without you, being without being able to hold you, to touch you, was going to be bad enough, but how was he supposed to keep turning up at work without knowing you were there?
And there were the lads to think about too. For all their teenage bravado, he didn't like to think what the damage it would do to them if you left suddenly. They trusted you, relied on you.
No, it simply couldn't be allowed to happen. He had to change your mind. If not about him, at least about leaving Stanton, for the sake of the boys.
And if you were still there, then at least maybe…maybe…there was a chance for him too.
Pressing his fingers deep into his eyes, he tried to block out the events of the day. If he tried hard enough, maybe it would all just turn out to have been a bad dream. Maybe he was about to wake up beside you in Wales and everything would be how it was supposed to be. He'd roll over and there you'd be; lying on your side with that sleepy smile you gave him in the mornings, before reaching out to tuck yourself against his chest. The warm weight of your body on top of him in the soft silence of morning, movements slow, unhurried, because you had all the time in the world.
Despite the pain in his back, and the misery of facing life without you, he was hard as a rock. Sliding out of bed, he padded towards the door, intent on taking care of the problem in the spare room.
"Y'ok?" Helen mumbled, and he shifted so she wouldn't be able to see the tent in his underwear, even though he knew she probably couldn't anyway in the dark.
"Just my back playing up after the drive," he whispered. "Go back to sleep, I'm fine."
***
The next morning you were like a zombie. Despite your exhaustion from the day you'd spent most of the night tossing and turning, finally giving up the fruitless attempt at sleep to write your resignation letter. Trudging into the building, it was like a lead weight in your bag. Or perhaps more accurately, like a time bomb primed to explode. Pausing outside the office, you gripped the handle and sucked in a deep breath to steady yourself. But he wasn't there, just like he said he wouldn't be, and you couldn't decide if it was actually a relief or not.
"Busy weekend?" asked Amanda as you practically downed a full mug of the terrible staff coffee, immediately filling it again. "How was your sister?"
If you didn't know better, you'd have described her tone as 'pointed'. But perhaps she was just narked that you'd had a whole weekend to yourself when she'd been left to manage the lads without Steve to share the load.
"Yeah, just… a lot. It was hard work. She was ok though. How was it here?"
"Oh you know, idyllic," Amanda yawned, pouring coffee for herself. "Can we have a word later on?"
"Uhh…" you stammered, anxiety bubbling in your stomach, "yeah of course. I don't think I have a free period until after lunch though."
She waved this away airily but her eyes were steely. "Not to worry, I'll find you."
***
The building hummed with the usual sounds of Stanton when Steve got there shortly before lunch. Down the corridor he could hear you raising your voice, laughter punctuating what was probably an attempt to restore order. The office was empty when he let himself in, but his relief at this fact was fleeting when he saw the envelope on his desk, his name in your neat, cursive handwriting. Bag thumping to the floor, he eyed it as he rooted automatically in his desk drawer for the box he'd so foolishly left behind for the weekend. Popping out a pair of tramadol, he threw them back, before eyeing the little pack of oxy.
If he was going to get through this, he thought, he needed all the help he could get, and one tiny white pill followed the other two a moment later.
Dropping down into his chair with a sigh, he lifted the envelope carefully, turning it over between his hands, as if weighing its contents. For a second he considered just tearing it up and denying all knowledge of its existence, but it would be no good. You'd just write another one. Tearing it open, bracing in the same manner one might when ripping off a plaster, he unfolded the single sheet of paper that nestled within.
Dear Steve,
It is with regret that I must give notice of my intention to leave Stanton Manor due to unforeseen family matters. I appreciate my contract requires one full term's notice and I do not wish to put you, or the students, in a difficult position. However, my personal circumstances are complex and urgent, so if it was possible to enable me to leave more quickly, I would greatly appreciate you help in doing this. I will, of course, be available until a replacement can be found.
I'm deeply sorry for the difficulties this will bring. My time at Stanton has been the highlight of my career so far and I will carry it with me always.
Yours,
Staring at the page, he found himself somewhat caught by surprise in seeing your real name signed across the bottom. As if this was all happening to someone else, that this letter was from some other, unfamiliar, woman. Not you. Not his Bella.
Letting the page fall to the tabletop, he covered his face with his hands, willing himself to wake up from this nightmare he'd somehow stumbled into.
"What's that?"
Amanda's voice made him jump, spinning the chair towards her as she closed the door. "Nothing," he said quickly, stuffing your letter quickly back into the envelope. "Is everything alright?" he added, frowning when she twisted the lock. It was a rare occurrence that they kept the office just for themselves.
"Good weekend away with Helen?" she asked as if he hadn't spoken, coming to rest against the side of the conference table, her arms folded.
"I…uhh… yeah, not bad. Y'know what those things are like. Loads of people you only ever see at weddings, christening and funerals."
"Still," she said, her eyes trained on him with an unusual and uncomfortable intensity, "nice to get away just the two of you, without the girls."
He swallowed. "Yep… yeah. Makes a change." Clearing his throat, he forced a chuckle and immediately wished he hadn't, the sound ringing hollowly between them.
"Yes, always nice to have an excuse for a dirty weekend," she continued, laughing when he inhaled sharply. "Don't look so shocked, isn't that what it was?" Her lip curled without amusement as she slowly set a little tape recorder on the table beside her.
Cold trickled down his spine. "It's not really something I'd want to—"
"No, me neither," she snapped before he could finish. "But unfortunately I wasn't given the choice."
Pressing play on the device beside her, a voice filtered reedily into the room, immediately recognisable as yours:
"You're such a weirdo. Why can't you just leave her a written list like normal people?"
Why did he remember you asking him that..? When had you..?
"How dare you, a simple list can't possibly convey my many, many, important and detailed thoughts."
He was sitting right here, making a tape for Amanda and you came in and... oh… Oh, FUCK!
"Faster though."
"Amanda…it's not…"
There was a strange thud and when they carried on, the voices had retreated but were, unfortunately, still entirely audible.
"I prefer taking it slow." On the recording, you let out a light hum he knew so well, and he pushed himself out of his chair, face burning.
"Alright, that's enough…"
"That's a shame…because I was kinda hoping you might be interested in something hard and fast."
His past-self groaned from the tape recorder and he lunged to switch it off but Amanda got there first, glaring at him furiously.
"You unbelievable fucker," she hissed.
"It's not…I can explain…"
"I don't think you need to fucking explain why you - a forty-eight year old man - might want to fuck our very lovely English teacher, Steve. It's fairly fucking self-explanatory."
Pinching the bridge of his nose he avoided meeting her thunderous stare.
"The bigger question is why someone as clever as her would risk her whole career for the sake of sleeping with her boss."
"It's not like that…" he mumbled.
"You were with her this weekend weren't you? All that fucking song and dance about her sister moving house… it was all just cover so she could get the weekend off so you could have a fucking dirty little weekend, wasn't it?"
Hanging his head, he didn't reply and she banged the tape player off the table, making him jump.
"Wasn't it!!"
"Yes," he whispered.
"How long has it been going on for?"
He shuffled his feet, not looking at her.
"Answer me!"
"Since the Christmas party."
She gasped, clutching her head between her hands.
"Since Christmas!? Jesus fucking Christ, Steve!"
"We didn't mea—"
"How could you do something like this to Helen?? To your family??"
Caustic laughter began bubbling up within him, rising higher, forcing its way out against his better judgement.
"Do you think this is fucking funny?!"
But he didn't reply, mirth still spilling out between his lips.
"How can you stand there and fucking laugh when your wife—"
He slammed his hand so hard on his desk the pain ricocheted from his palm to his shoulder to his spine.
"My wife wouldn't even notice if I brought Bella home and fucked her in front of her," he hissed. "I could go home tonight and tell her everything and she'd barely fucking look up from whatever else she was doing. So don't you stand there and fucking judge me when you don't know a single fucking thing about my marriage!"
Amanda stepped closer, glowering at him as she slapped away the finger he had pointed at her and prodded him firmly on the chest.
"Said exactly like a man who's trying to justify sleeping with another woman. I don't care how disinterested your wife might be in you - you don't get to go around fucking whoever you like. And especially not when the whoever you like also happens to be our fucking employee! You could lose your fucking job! You both could! And then where would we be?!"
Grabbing the envelope from where he'd dropped it when she arrived, he shoved it at her.
"You don't need to worry, it's already over," he snapped.
"What's this?" she asked even as she tugged the letter from inside and unfolded it. Eyes scanning quickly down the page, she looked up, open-mouthed.
"Are you fucking joking me? She's leaving?!"
He dropped heavily into his seat, scrubbing a hand down his face as he nodded.
"And all this guff about family trouble is just a lie, is it?"
"I think so, yes."
"Fucking hell…" Your letter crumpled slightly in her fist. "Fucking hell, Steve! She's the best fucking teacher we've had here and you just had to go and fucking ruin it, didn't you?! Christ, I could kill you with my own hands. Do you have any idea what this'll do to the boys?!"
"I tried to change her mind…"
Amanda scoffed, stuffing the letter back into the envelope. "Not hard enough, clearly."
"I'll talk to her again later, it's all happened very suddenly."
"No, she can answer to me about this."
"Amanda, just leave it. Let me talk—"
But it was already too late, the lock clicking as she flung open the door, storming off down the corridor just as the bell rang for lunch.
***
"Just a second!" you shouted, having to raise your voice over the scraping of chair-legs against the wooden floor of your classroom. "Take one of these on your way out and I want answers on my desk on Friday."
The boys groaned in near-unison but you stood by the door with the pile of handouts and refused to let them pass until they'd taken on.
"Oi!" you said, grabbing Riley by the collar as he tried to bounce out past you without a copy.
"Bellaaaa…" he whined but you blocked the doorway, holding out the page towards him.
"Fucking hell, Riley, just take it before Jamie eats all our lunches," grumbled Benny, still stuck behind him with a few of the other lads.
With a huff that suggested you'd asked him to sit down and pen his own hit Shakespearean play, Riley took the page and you smiled as if the ordeal hadn't happened.
"Friday, ok? You know where I am if you have questions."
The others filed past, taking their sheets with only minor grumbles of discontentment and as they disappeared towards the dining hall you leaned against the door frame, eyes slipping closed in exhausted relief at having made it through class.
"Bella!"
Amanda's sharp tone startled you into straightening up, seeing her marching towards you.
"Everything ok..?" you stammered, walking backwards and she shooed you into the room, slamming the door behind her.
"Is everything ok? Is everything OK!? What the fuck do you think you're playing at!"
"I— what?? I don't know—"
"Oh don't give me all that wide-eyed innocence shit," she snapped. "I know you've been fucking Steve."
You froze, half-formed words still on your lips.
"Don't insult me by trying to deny it."
"How did you..?" you breathed, panic crackling up your spine, tightening around your chest like a band.
She slapped a small tape recorder down on the nearest desk.
"Maybe next time you sleep with your boss on school property, you should make sure he's not fucking recording it."
You stared at the little device in horror. "No…"
"Trust me, yes. I've heard things I will never be able to unhear."
You sat down - involuntarily - on the nearest chair, your legs turning to jelly.
"How could you?? He's your boss. He's married!"
"I don't—" You studied your hands, fingers twisting together in your lap, you head cloudy with shock. "It wasn't supposed to be…"
"Wasn't supposed to be what?"
"Nothing," you murmured.
"Did you even think about the fact he has a wife? A family??"
"Of course—"
"How could you be so selfish."
Your head snapped up, the clouds parting to allow angry to ride in between them. "Right, I see. I'm the whore, aren't I? I did think about his family but y'know what? They aren't my family. I didn't make him do anything he didn't want to. If he chose to cheat on his wife with me, that's his business."
She stared at you, mouth agape. "You can't really think that. You're better than this."
"Apparently I'm not."
She shook her head, brows drawn. "No... no. You're not this stupid. I know you and you love this job, you wouldn't risk it over something so trivial. So come on, tell me: what did he promise you?"
"Nothing." You cleared your throat roughly. "I am that stupid. It was just sex… and now it's over."
"He told you he'd leave her, didn't he??"
You shifted in your seat and she sighed heavily.
"Oh Bella…"
"It doesn't matter. It's over," you mumbled.
"Yes, so I gather." She set your resignation letter on the desk beside you. "But only cowards run away from their mistakes, Bella."
You stiffened. "I am not a fucking coward."
"Really? Because this looks a lot like a little girl running away from her problems to me."
"Fuck off, Amanda! You have no idea what you're talking about. I'm doing this for the best."
"The best for who though, Bella?? What's for the best for the lads who depend on you every day, eh?? If you had any guts, you'd stay and face the mess you've made. At least until the end of the school year."
"The mess I've made?? So it's not his fault at all then, is it?? After all, he's only the one who's older and more senior than me at work. Yes, I can see how you'd think the power all lies with me."
Amanda faltered, dropping into the chair at the desk across from you. "He's been through a lot these last few years."
"That doesn't make this just my fault. He's a fucking adult, Amanda. He made his choice. Which, by the way, included him pursuing me."
"I'm sorry…" she sighed, rubbing tiredly at her forehead. "For what it's worth, I'm livid with him too."
You chewed at the side of your thumb, eyeing her carefully. "Are you going to tell the Trust?"
She studied you and you struggled not to squirm under the scrutiny.
"No," she said eventually. "You're both so fucking stupid I could kill you, but telling tales to those twats won't fix anything. But you can't just leave, Bella. We need you."
"I'm sorry, I know it's terrible timing…but I can't stay here. Not now."
"If you weren't prepared to handle it like adults if it ended, why did you start it at all?"
Her words stung like a slap and your retaliation was out of your mouth before you could stop yourself.
"You really don't know him at all, do you? How much of a fucking mess he is?"
"What's that supposed to mean?"
Covering your face with your hands, you groaned quietly.
"Bella?"
"I just mean that he's not alright. He's not coping."
"His back—"
"Is an excuse," you said firmly. "I'm not saying he's not in pain - he undoubtedly is - but it's more than that, isn't it?"
She avoided your eyes. "We're all under a lot of strain…"
With a frustrated huff, you got up, unable to keep still a moment longer.
"He's drowning, Amanda. He's drowning right in front of us."
"What do you mean?"
"Can't you see it?? What am I saying… I couldn't see it and it was right in front of my face. But you've known him years, surely you can see that he's not ok??"
"How can you expect him to be ok after what he went through, Bella? Of course he's not ok. And this place puts us all through hell, but none moreso than him. But he gets on with it, like we all do. Because he has to."
You stared at her, fingers curling into your palms as you fought to keep your voice steady.
"But he's not just getting on with it, Amanda. You have to open your eyes and really see him. He's—"
You cut yourself off, chewing your lip and she frowned.
"He's what?"
"I—" You silenced yourself, fingers to your lips. "No, I shouldn't. It's not mine to tell. You'll have to ask him."
"Tell me right now or I'll go and report you both for fucking on school property."
You stared mutinously at her but her stony expression remained unmoved.
"Bella."
"Fucking… alright fine!" You threw up your hands in defeat. "You want the truth? Fine. He's an addict, Amanda."
Her mouth dropped open. "You fucking what?? No he's not."
"Yes. He is."
"Bella, my love, listen to me. I know it looks like he takes a lot of pills but—"
"Yeah! He does! You think it looks like a lot?? You don't even know the half of it! And they don't even all come from his fucking doctor! So don't talk to me like I'm five years old, Amanda, it's insulting. Particularly because when I actually was five years old, I probably already knew more about addiction than you do sitting there today."
She followed your pacing with a narrow-eyed stare, forehead puckered in confusion.
"What do you mean they don't come from his doctor? Where the fuck else would they come from??"
Coming to an abrupt stop, hands on your hips, you fixed her with a withering look. "Where do you think those kinds of drugs come from when they don't come from a doctor? The magic opioid fairy?"
"No…" she whispered. "That's no possible. None of this is possible… you're…" She floundered, shaking her head, eyes darting as she appeared to struggle to find the words. "Are you making this up because he finished things with you? You want him to get fired, is that it??"
It was your turn to stare incredulously. "You think I'm lying?? You think I could lie about something like this just because what? Because I'm a bitter little bitch? A woman scorned?? Are you serious??"
"I don't know, Bella. Are you?" she asked coldly.
"Fuck you, Amanda! Get out of my classroom! I've done things I'm not proud of but I own those, and I'm not going to let you sit there and accuse me of telling lies. Why don't you go and ask him about yesterday, when I had to go and score him drugs because he left his stash at home. Why don't you ask him where he gets his oxycodone from. All those fucking pills in his desk. Then we'll see who's fucking lying around here!"
You stalked to the door, dragging it open, and waited for her to leave but she didn't move from her seat.
"Close that."
"No, we're finished here. You don't get to call me a liar and then we just carry on."
"How long has he been…" She trailed off, eyes on the open door, the racket from the boys echoing from the dining hall, the familiar sound jarring in the tension of the room. "Please, Bella. I apologise."
Slowly, you let it swing shut again, the usual sounds of Stanton disappearing once more.
"I'm not sure. A long time, I think. The more he takes, the more he needs to feel normal."
"Are you saying he's high at work?"
You watched your fingers twist together, guilt beginning to twinge in your guts as the anger subsided, but there was no going back now.
"I'm not sure he's ever not high."
Amanda swore softly, covering her face with her hands.
"But he's high-functioning," you continued. "It's not like he's getting off his face. The fact that none of us could tell shows he has it vaguely under control." You swallowed, the irony of his words coming out of your mouth in his defense not lost on you. "I only knew there was a problem because I spent more time with him than any of us ever do. And he got sloppy around me. He's very, very good at hiding it."
"You swear to me you're telling the truth?"
"I wouldn't lie about something like this. I—" You took a deep breath, forcing yourself to continue. "Addiction has been a problem in my family since I was born, Amanda. This isn't something I'd ever joke about. And for the record, he didn't break up with me out of some chivalrous attempt at saving his marriage, I ended it. Because of all this. Because he won't even admit he has a problem and I can't try and fix another addict, I just don't have it in me."
Amanda pushed herself to her feet with a small groan of exhaustion and slowly made her way to you, resting her hands on your shoulders.
"I'm sorry, Bella. Truly."
You shook your head briefly, curling your nails into your palms as you pushed down the ball that was building in your throat.
"What are you going to do?" you asked hoarsely.
"I'm going to make him tell me the truth."
***
The moment Amanda left the room he threw back another pair of tramadol, tucking the slim packet of oxy into his shirt pocket. Really, he should stop her confronting you. He could leave the room right now and catch her, tell her to leave you alone. That this was his mess, his mistake, not yours.
Instead, he slipped back into his chair and stared, unseeing, at the stack of paperwork that was waiting for his attention. The minutes ticked by and she didn't return. He should go and help with lunch duty, give Owen and Andy a break but he couldn't seem to move. Had it not been for the fact he had a science lesson to teach after lunch, he might have stayed, rooted to his office chair, for the rest of the day.
The afternoon passed blurrily; Jamie was being particularly disruptive but he hardly did anything to stop him, and sensing his weakness, the others joined in, the class falling apart completely about twenty minutes before the bell rang. Admitting defeat, he sent them back to the common room and left the building, making a bee-line for his car.
Tucked underneath the passenger seat was the small cardboard box you'd given him yesterday.
Gathering it up, careful not to jostle its precious glass cargo, he draped his jacket over it and went back into school, slinking in through the caretakers entrance, well away from the busy mayhem of the boys. Following the corridors down to the laundry room, he let himself in and rested against the closed door.
The last time he'd been in here was with you and the memories hit him so hard in the chest that he could scarcely breathe. He could practically smell you, feel the plush heat of you pulsing around his fingers, the taste of your skin as he dragged his tongue over your neck and your hands locked in his hair.
With effort, he propelled himself back into motion, scanning the room for a suitable hiding place, eyes alighting on the tumble-dryers to the left of the door. An alcove was blocked in by the ancient machines, creating a small void behind them. Leaning over, trying not to topple headfirst into the space, he peered down in the gloom and cobwebs, spotting what had once upon a time been a mop-bucket but had long since ceased in providing viable service. Well now he had a new commission for it; flipping it over, he set the little box on top.
He couldn't just leave it like that though, out in the open for anyone to find. Hauling himself back to his feet, he pinched a hand towel from the racks above and leaning over again, his back making its displeasure known, gently dropping it on top of the box. Cocking his head, he took in the tableau; to the casual observer it would look as though the towel had simply fallen off the machine and been forgotten to time.
Nodding quietly to himself, he pushed himself vertical once more and dusted down his shirt. The little packet of oxy crackled cheerfully in his pocket and before he knew that he'd done it, a little pill was sailing down his gullet, bound for his bloodstream.
Oh well, too late to take it back now.
Heading back up to the main part of the building he heard the commotion before he got there.
"Where the fuck have you been?" snapped Amanda, holding Tarone by the scruff of his jumper, blood seeping from a cut above his eye.
"I— I just…what's happened?"
"Jamie lamped him with a textbook. He nearly took his fucking eye out."
"Which textbook?"
Amanda fixed him with a cold stare and he cleared his throat.
"I'm taking him to get fixed up, you can deal with Jamie. They were supposed to be with you anyway."
"Yep…yeah, ok."
"And I need to speak to you later."
"Ooooh, Steve's in trouuuuble," Nabz teased in a sing-song voice and the other lads who were still hanging around - never ones to miss the aftermath of a brawl and see someone who wasn't them getting told off - laughed and joined in.
He coughed again, his guts slithering at her tone, and nodded. "Right. I'll see you in a while."
She disappeared with a still dripping Tarone, the boys continuing their impression of jeering budgies.
"Alright, give it a fucking rest!" he shouted and, to his immense surprise, they stopped. "Jamie, get the fuck up to your room, I'll be up in a minute. The rest of you have places to be, so move it."
The room cleared with only a minimal rumble of complaining and as they disappeared to their various classrooms, he rested his forehead against the doorframe and sighed heavily.
"Steve?"
He looked round to see Owen hovering in the corridor near the office.
"You alright, boss?"
"Yeah… yeah I'm fine," he said, forcing a smile. "I'm just going up to deal with Jamie. Can you tell Sarah to just hang on in the kitchen and I'll be down as soon as I can?"
***
"Bella..? Are you alright?"
Shy's soft voice made you jump and you grabbed another tissue from the box on your desk, dabbling hurriedly under your eyes.
"No— I mean yes, I mean… I'm fine. What do you need?"
He frowned at you, still lingering nervously in the doorway. "We have tutorial time?"
Fuck…
"Of course we do, sorry," you said, blowing your nose quickly and trying to pin a smile to your face.
"We don't have—"
"Ah no - no way you get out of it that easily."
He cracked a lopsided smile and sloped into the room, taking the empty seat beside your desk.
"What's wrong?"
"Nothing, I'm fine."
"Why was Amanda yelling at you?"
Closing your eyes for a second, you wished the floor would swallow you whole. When you opened them, he was staring expectantly at you.
"She wasn't yelling at me."
"Sounded like she was."
"Oh you know Amanda, her bark's worse than her bite."
"She sounded pretty pissed off."
"Well, working with you lot will do that to a person," you shot back, forcing a chuckle and he rolled his eyes. "Come on, books out, let's make a start."
"Have you listened to the tape yet?" he asked quietly as he dragged his battered copy of Shakespeare out of his backpack.
"I have! It's great! Thanks again for making it for me."
"Are you lying?" His eyes gleamed teasingly.
"Do I look like I'm lying?"
He shrugged, fiddling with his headphones that hung around his neck. "Thought it might be too hardcore for you."
You shook your head, shuffling papers on your desk. "I'm not as pathetic as I look, y'know. Now come on, let's talk about Hermia and Lysander."
***
Steve had successfully managed to avoid Amanda until the boys went for dinner but with Owen and you there he had no excuse when she appeared at his elbow and drew him away to the office.
Once again the door was locked.
"Good news is it?" he muttered darkly, settling in his chair, bouncing a tennis ball repeatedly off the floor.
"Stop that," she snapped and he did.
"Amanda, whatever she's told you—"
"How many pills have you had today?"
He sat back in his seat. "What?"
"You heard me. Answer the question."
"The same I always have. What's this about?"
"Where do you get the oxy…oxydone? Oxy…something 'own'?"
"I don't even know what that is, Amanda."
She shook her head at him. "You're lying, Steve."
"How am I lying?? You don't even know the name of the drug you're asking me about!"
"Show me your pills."
"Why?" he snapped, his heart beating much too fast, hammering against his ribs so hard it was a wonder she couldn't hear it. "Why are you suddenly so interested—"
"Since you had Bella meeting with a fucking drug dealer to get your fix!"
He swallowed, his mouth suddenly dryer than the desert. "Is that what she told you?"
"Unlike you, she had no reason to lie about that."
"Unlike me?? Jesus fuck, Amanda. How long have you known me?? How long have we worked together? Do I look like a fucking smackhead to you??"
She stared at him, unmoved. "If you've nothing to hide, show me your pills."
"Amanda, c'mon…" he said, almost laughing with the absurdity of it all.
"Fine," she snapped, marching over to where he sat and dragging open his desk drawer, rifling through its contents.
"Oi!" He was on his feet in a heartbeat, trying to move her without actually manhandling her. "It's none of anyone's fucking business!"
But it was too late; she'd found another little packet of oxy buried under some permission slips.
"Oxycodone! That's exactly what she said you'd have," she crowed, waving them in his face.
"Having fucking painkillers isn't a fucking crime! I'm in pain!"
"And you didn't these from some scumbag drug dealer in town then?"
"Bella's having you on, Amanda. We broke up and she's afraid you'll tell the Trust and she'll be out of a job—"
"She's already fucking quit!"
"But if the Trust found out we'd been sleeping together - on school property no less - they'll probably make sure she doesn't get a very good reference, won't they?"
"Tell me what happened yesterday."
"Nothing happened…"
"Well something must have happened otherwise you two wouldn't have gone from sneaking off for a dirty weekend to having split up in the space of forty-eight hours."
He sat down again, pulling a hand down his face with a heavy sigh.
"Alright, ok. We had a fight. And I'd stupidly forgotten to bring enough medication to last the weekend so I was awful to her because I was in agony. She finished with me and she's angry, so she's making things up to get back at me."
"I thought you just said she was worried I'd tell on her? Now she's making things up to get back at you? You want to get your story straight, mate."
He swallowed, feeling colour climbing from his collar to his cheeks.
"I don't know why she's saying it, I'm just guessing."
"Just tell me the truth: where did you get these?" she said, shaking the flimsy little slip of plastic at him.
"From my GP," he replied, holding her eye.
"And you promise me that's the truth? You promise me you don't show up here high every single day?"
"I take the pills I need to get by," he replied sharply. Which wasn't technically a lie.
"And those pills are the ones your doctor says you should be taking every day, are they?"
"Amanda, I can't even believe you're asking me this. We're friends. You really think I'd have been able to lie to you for what? Fucking, years?? Do I look high to you?"
She narrowed her eyes at him. "If you're telling the truth then that means Bella is lying and I'm not sure I believe that she was."
"She comes from a family of addicts and drug dealers. Trust me, she's got all the experience she needs to make it sound believable."
Amanda rubbed tiredly at her forehead. "She was very convincing."
"Well then I suppose it all comes down to who you're going to believe. The woman you've known for less than a year who has a much more colourful background than we knew when we hired her or me, who you've known for over a decade."
She nodded slowly, eyes cast down, turning the little packet over and over between her hands.
"You're right," she said, slowly looking up at him, her eyes cold. "I believe her."
He froze, the breath he hadn't realised he'd been holding still trapped in his lungs.
"No…" he mumbled finally, the word spilling out of him in a desperate low rush of air. "No. You can't seriously— Come on, Amanda, this is ludicrous."
"After everything you've been through, I can see how you might have got here."
The air cracked with his cold burst of laughter. "This is a nonsense!"
"Is it? Because from where I'm standing, it actually makes a lot of sense."
"I'm not a fucking drug addict, Amanda!!"
"Then tell me once and for all: what happened yesterday? Did you ask her to get you drugs?"
"No!" he said firmly, dropping into his seat, head in his hands. "No."
"Steve…"
"I forgot my pills, alright?! We were in the middle of fucking nowhere in Wales and I'd left my pills here. I was a mess and there was nowhere we could go to get replacements that would give me them, or not take twelve fucking years to do it, and I'd promised Helen I'd be home."
"Jesus fucking christ," she muttered, pulling up her own chair.
"We had no other choice. Bella's brother is a dealer for some nasty piece of shit from round where she grew up and she called him and asked him to help. Just as a temporary fix." His fingers locked together in his hair, his eyes screwed shut against the memory of you by the river, tears rolling down your face. "And she's convinced I have a problem so she broke things off afterwards."
"And that's the first and only time you've been to a dealer to get pills?"
Tugging hard on his hair, he didn't reply.
"Steve?"
"I have it under control."
"Fucking look at me and say that again."
Lifting his head slowly, he met her stony stare. "I have it under control, Amanda, I promise you. You've never worried about me like that before, have you? Have I ever seemed like I'm not myself?"
She got up, pacing restlessly around the room, whispering curses as she moved.
"Amanda…"
"Don't! Don't say another fucking word. Don't even breathe!" She whirled around to face him, pointing an accusing finger. "You sat there and said that girl was a fucking liar! How dare you!! She puts herself on the fucking line for you - she's leaving a job she fucking loves because of you!"
"It's not—"
"I said shut up!" She covered her face and let out a furious groan. "I can't even fucking look at you. I should report you to the Trust right this fucking minute."
He stood, light-headed with panic, taking tentative steps, his hands stretched out towards her. "Please, Amanda… please. I'll lose my job. I'll never get another one, not with that on my record. My kids…"
She glared at him, eyes burning. "Don't you fucking dare bring your kids into this. You've been cheating on their mother for months and you clearly didn't stop to consider the damage that would do to your kids if it came out."
"This isn't having an affair though…I'll never work again if you tell them. How'll I look after them?"
They stared at each other, the silence as taut as every sinew in his body.
"Please," he begged in a whisper.
Finally, her shoulders slumped and she covered her face with her hands for a moment, a great sigh sliding from her but he held his breath.
"Fine," she said wearily, dropping her hands to look at him. "I won't do anything tonight. But I want to sleep on it. I can't believe you've put me - all of us - in this position. You're a fucking selfish prick."
"Thank you," he grovelled, shame oily in his throat. "Thank you. I understand, I'm so sorry—"
"Bella was right to break it off with you." His apologies dried on his tongue and he stared slack-jawed at her as she headed for the door, turning the lock. "She deserves much better than you."
Wrenching the door open, she disappeared back out into the building, the noise of the lads rushing into the space she'd left behind. Wilting down into his chair, he cradled his head in one hand, the other rooting into his breast pocket before a small, white pill landed on his tongue. For a second he paused, allowing the acrid chemical taste to fill his mouth before, finally, he swallowed.
***
"You told her about the pills??" asked Celia when you related the conversation later, a bottle of wine and a fresh packet of cigarettes between you. Even though spring was allegedly coming, the weather had turned even colder, a frosty wind driving horizontal rain towards your windows and you'd lifted your self-imposed 'no smoking in the house' ban, just for the night.
Or maybe the week.
"I had to. She said she'd report us for the affair if I didn't," you replied glumly, the guilt weighing heavily in your stomach. You'd heard them yelling at each other in the office that evening as you passed to leave for the day, their shouts only just drowned out by the hollering coming from the common room as the lads played a particularly vicious table-football tournament after dinner.
"What do you think she'll do?"
"I don't know… they've been friends a long time but something like this? I'm not sure. She might be forced to tell the Trust." You hunched forwards, hissing a curse as your free hand pushed into your hair. "I shouldn't have told her."
Celia reached across to squeeze your arm. "You did the right thing, darling. He's working with kids while out of his tree, I'm not sure he shouldn't lose his job."
"He's not out of his tree," you argued, warming under her disapproving stare at your defense of him. "He's not… he's not ok, but he's functional. No one's in any danger under his care." You reached for a new cigarette, flashing it to life. "The only person he's a danger to is himself."
"Oh well I suppose that makes it all ok then," she replied, rolling her eyes as she tapped ash into the saucer between you. "What are you going to do, Frenchie? I completely understand wanting to get out there, but how are you going to afford to stay here without a job..?"
Under the table, your knee jigged anxiously. "I'll figure it out."
"I mean, I can help for a bit. I could still pitch in for next month—"
"No, no, no, I can't let you do that. You and Mark need to save for the wedding."
"It's ok, we can—"
"No, Cee," you said firmly, gripping her hand. "Please. I'll be fine. I have some savings, and Ash will be here—"
"Ash?? You mean the lad who's only allowed to move in if he stops selling drugs? What kind of money do you think he's going to have??"
"I don't know!" You tugged your hand free of hers, pushing it through your hair again, with a sigh. "I don't know. But I do know that I can't stay there until I find something new. I'll stack shelves or whatever if I have to until I find another teaching job. Me and Ash both will."
Celia spluttered a giggle at this and you smiled; you weren't looking forward to breaking that particular piece of news to your baby brother.
"But, look, it's not immediate crisis stations, I'm not leaving just yet. I have to work at least some of my notice and I promised I'd wait until they'd found someone new."
"Just promise me you'll ask for help if you need it, ok?"
Taking the hand she had stretched towards you, you smiled and nodded, with the absolute certainty that you never would.
***
It was inevitable that you'd have to face him after your betrayal, but you had hoped you might at least make it to break-time before the shouting started.
"Bella, can you hang on a minute?" he said briskly as the morning meeting broke up and you all prepared to go your separate ways to man the barricades.
Or, teaching, as it was more commonly know.
Amanda was the last to leave, catching your eye as she lingered in the doorway; apart from the basic necessities of setting everyone up for the day, she and Steve had barely exchanged one word since you'd arrived.
It clicked shut and you were left alone with him. If this had been last Tuesday, you'd have been taking the opportunity for a sneaky fumble on his desk.
But not today. Today he was standing, taut with rage, his eyes like two chips of ice.
"You fucking told, Amanda?!" he hissed.
You were forgoing with pleasantries then apparently.
"She made me."
He scoffed derisively. "'She made me," he mimicked in a mean, high voice. "You're not usually this fucking pathetic, Bella, own your fucking actions."
"What? Like you do, you mean??" you shot back, voice raising. "You're the one who gave her a fucking tape of us having sex!"
He glanced at the door. "Keep your fucking voice down, someone will hear you."
"She said she'd report us to the Trust if I didn't tell her, so yeah, I did tell her. And frankly, I should have told her anyway because you need fucking help, Steve."
"Oh I see, throw me under a fucking bus to save your own skin, is that it? Jesus christ, you really aren't who I thought you were."
Hurt, frustrated tears pressed behind your eyes and you balled your hands into fists.
"Yeah?? Well same here, I suppose."
You stared furiously across the room at each other, the air thick between you.
"Is she going to tell them?" you mumbled, caving first.
"I don't know," he replied flatly, raking a hand through his hair. "She wanted to sleep on it."
"She won't tell," you said with more confidence than you felt. "You're her friend. She hates the Trust… she'll come round. You just need to take more care of yourself."
"What do you care about the care I take of myself," he spat, but his face spasmed guiltily a second later when you just stared silently at him.
"Of course I care," you said quietly.
"Not enough to stay though. I got your letter."
"Yeah, I know."
"You don't have to do this. We can make it work."
You raised a brow at him. "You mean like today? Because I'd not say we're getting off to a very promising start."
"That's not fair and you know it."
"We can't do this Steve," you sighed, "it won't work."
"But you're not even giving it a chance," he said, scrubbing a hand down his face. "You can't stand there and tell me that on Saturday you were in love me and ready for us to be together - for me to leave my wife - and today you feel absolutely nothing."
"That's precisely why it won't work!" you exclaimed and his eyes flicked nervously towards the door. "I can't stay here and watch you self-destruct because I care about you too much to do that. But I can't stay here and stop you from self-destructing because…well, you know why."
"I am not self-destructing," he replied hotly, glowering when you simply snorted in reply. "I'm not! I was doing fine - you didn't even know there was anything to worry about until—"
"So you finally admit there is something to worry about."
He narrowed his eyes. "No. Look, I understand why you'd think that but I told you. I have it under control. So what that I need a bit of extra help? Do I look out of control to you?"
"No, but—"
"See! I'm fine, Bella. You have nothing you need to do for me except love me."
You cocked your head at him. "I thought this was just about me staying at Stanton?"
"I— yes, it is. Of course it is."
"Because it's over, Steve. I can't come back from what I had to do for you on Sunday."
"I understand… just please, don't leave…"
"How can you ask me to stay?" you said softly. "Can you honestly say that would be any good for either of us?"
He closed the space between you, hovering just out of reach but close enough you could feel the warmth of him spilling towards you and everything in you yearned to pull him closer.
"I don't want to come to work everyday and you're not here," he mumbled.
"You lived without me for ages before I got here."
A half-smile tugged at his lips. "You know it's not the same now."
"No," you murmured, dropping your head to avoid his eyes.
"And the lads really need you, Bells. They'll be lost without you."
"You'll get someone else. Someone good."
"But we don't want someone good, we want you," he replied and when you looked up he was smirking slightly.
"Fucker."
"I'm not sure that's really how you're supposed to speak to your boss."
"Yeah, well you're probably not supposed to go on dirty weekends or score him drugs either."
Pink tinged his cheek as he bit the end of his tongue. "Probably not, no. Definitely not something we can put in the 'essential criteria' section of the job ad anyway."
Despite yourself, you laughed and he reached for you, solid fingers warm on your neck, thumb tracing a path across your cheek.
"Don't," you whispered.
"Stay. Please?" he replied, not moving his hand, the familiarity of his touch causing an unbearable pressure to build in your chest until you had to step back to put space between you.
"I can't. This - that - is why. We can't go back, not after everything. It'll be better for us both when I'm gone."
His hands curled into themselves at his sides until his knuckles turned white, his eyes no longer filled with cold fury, instead their soft blue was filmed to glassy pools. Clearing his throat roughly, he nodded.
"We'll get started with the recruitment on Monday. Take the weekend and think it over. Make sure it's right."
***
He was pulled from pillar to post all morning and it wasn't until well into the afternoon before he managed to get Amanda on her own, spotting her having a smoke out near the lake. Seeing him coming, she shook her head and tuned away.
"Amanda…"
"Oh do fuck off, Steve. I'm trying to have two sodding minutes of peace before I have to go back in there."
Huddling deeper into his coat, he stuffed his hands into his pockets. "Please, I'm sorry, but I need to know what you're going to do."
She turned towards him, drawing slowly on her cigarette. "And you don't think hounding me about it might make me less inclined to cover for you?"
"Mate…"
"Don't you 'mate' me. Not when you're asking me to lie for you. Twice!"
"I'm sorry," he said quietly, staring at the ground, last year's leaves still damp and mulchy underfoot.
"Yeah, me too," she sighed, dropping the end into the leaves and squishing it with her toe before picking up the butt. "I can't believe you'd keep something like this from me. Sleeping with Bella I can understand, but this?? I could have helped you. Does Helen know?"
He shook his head quickly. "I took too much on Sunday after Bella—" he cleared his throat roughly, "—Helen didn't even notice."
"And how often do you take too much?"
Clicking his tongue against his teeth, he smiled wryly. "I don't. That was a one-off. It was a very… testing day."
"We have a lot of very testing days here. How can I trust you when you've lied to me for so long?"
"I'm not lying to you, I swear on my girls."
"Don't… don't do that. Don't use them when you can't—"
"I mean it, Amanda. I promise you - I'm always careful. I'd never put anyone any risk. I'm not even taking that much more than I have done in the past, right after the accident."
"Steve, you were practically bed-ridden for months after the accident, this isn't the same. There was nothing and no one you could hurt being on that much morphine back then."
"I swear it to you: I'm fine. I'm not doping myself up to the eyeballs, I'm taking enough to let me do what I need to do. To do this, here, with all of you."
She compressed her lips, arms wrapping around her middle, though whether in comfort or against the cold he couldn't say.
"I want to know every time you take something from now on. All of it out in the open. And I want you to start reducing down to whatever your doctor thinks you should be taking."
"My doctor doesn't—"
"Don't argue with me! If something happens and the Trust finds out about this and it comes out that I knew and covered it up - which it will because it always does - then we're both for it. I am not going down for you, do you hear me? I am not going to let you ruin the career of everyone here who works so fucking hard to keep this place afloat because they'll be tainted by association with you. So I won't rat you out, but you're going to get yourself help. Get yourself back on the straight and narrow and so help me, Steve, if you ever do something like this again, I don't stay quiet."
"Ok," he mumbled, dizzy with relief. "Thank you. I'll do my best."
She nodded firmly and let out a deep breath. "Right, I have to get back."
"Can I have one of those before you go?"
Squinting at him, she pulled the packet out her coat pocket, plucking the lighter from inside it. "Have you been drinking?"
"What?? No—"
She cracked a smile as she handed him a cigarette and let him light it.
"You going to take up smoking instead?"
"You gonna report me for that?" Her amusement dried up in an instant and he stammered an apology.
"Too fucking soon, Steven."
Heat climbing his face, he nodded and she set off back towards the school.
"Oh, and Steve?"
He turned towards her, cigarette poised halfway to his lips. "Yeah?"
"You ever fucking sleep with one of our staff again and I'll cut it off, do I make myself clear?"
He cleared his throat and tried to force a chuckle. "Abundantly."
"Good," she snapped, marching on on her, and he turned slowly back towards the lake releasing long sigh of relief, the smoke mingling with the iron-grey skies above.
***
Wednesday's nightshift was unbearable. The freezing weather howling through the crumbling old building and all the boys were grumpy and unpleasant with the cold, complaining about how it whistled past the old single glazing in their rooms. It look an age and extra cups of tea and hot chocolate to get them to settle down for the night. Exhausted, you traipsed downstairs where Owen was locking up.
"Are they all in or do you need me to go and bash heads?" he asked with a grin.
"Finally," you yawned. "I'm going to make a brew and then turn in, do you want one?"
"Please, it's fucking baltic in here."
He followed you into the kitchen, grabbing mugs as you filled the kettle.
"Did you hear Steve and Amanda knocking seven bells out of each other on Monday?"
Setting it on the burner, you hoped he didn't see how your hand wobbled.
"Yeah, I heard them as I was leaving."
"What d'you think's going on?"
"No idea," you replied quickly, fetching tea bags from the enormous caddy on the side.
"Andy reckons they've been having an affair. Trouble in paradise and all that."
You spluttered a laugh. "Seriously??"
"I don't see it myself." In the distance the office phone began to ring. "Who the fuck calls a school at half eleven at night," he muttered. "I'll get it, you make those."
The kettle was slowly burbling towards the boil when you heard Owen shout your name.
"Bella!" he shouted again and you set off at a jog, almost colliding with him in the hall.
"What's the matter??"
"The hospital's on the phone for you."
"The hospital..?" A cold fist wrapped around your heart and you dashed towards the office. You were always telling Gran she needed to be more careful in the cold.
"Hello??"
"Hello? Is that…umm… Birdie?"
You swallowed. "Yes, that's me. What's happened?"
"I'm Suki from the Royal. We've had an Ashley admitted to A&E, he asked us to call you."
"Ash?? No you mean my Gran? Nellie Jennings?"
The woman on the other end of the line paused. "Your Gran? No, I'm calling about Ashley, Birdie. He says he's your brother? He's hurt."
You sat down heavily in Steve's office chair, clutching the phone.
"Ash? What's happened?"
"We're not sure exactly but it looks like he's been beaten up. He's sustained some quite severe injuries and is bleeding internally. We need to take him up for surgery shortly."
"Surgery…" you whispered.
"I'm sorry, I know this will be a shock."
"Please tell him I'm on my way."
"Of course."
You mumbled goodbye and the line went dead. Looking up, your thoughts swirling too quickly to catch, you saw Owen hovering at the door.
"Is everything ok?"
"No… I have to go to the hospital. My bother's been in an accident."
"Just go, I'll look after things here."
Dragging your hands over your hair you blinked hard, trying to get control over you racing heart and thoughts.
"No, if something happened…"
"It's fine, I'll call Steve."
"I'm not allowed to leave you on your own, Owen."
"Bella, go and get your stuff and I'll call him now."
His instructions finally gave you a purpose and direction and you took off upstairs to get your bag, stuffing your belongings back into it from around the little staff bedroom. As you clattered back down the corridor towards the stairs, Shy's bedroom door cracked open.
"Bella?"
"Go back to bed, Shy."
"Are you ok?"
"Just do as your told!" you shouted and his eyes widened, the door slamming shut a second later.
But you didn't have time to think about that now, racing down the stairs two at a time.
"He's coming. He said to sit tight."
"I need to call my Gran," you said, pulling on your coat.
"Bella…" Owen gently rested his hands on your shoulders. "Hey, look at me."
"He's got internal bleeding," you whimpered, tears beginning to slip down your cheeks. He bundled you into a bear hug and held you tight.
"Just take a breath, ok? Come on, do it with me. Nice and slow in… good girl. And out again… that's it, nice."
With each shaky breath your heart rate began to slow and he pulled back, smiling at you.
"Call your Gran, Steve'll be here in a minute."
Dialling with a shaking hand, you let the line ring and ring but there was no answer. Hoping that meant she was already on her way to the hospital, you called Celia instead.
"Hello?"
"Mark?"
"Alright French." You could hear Celia's mutter of surprise in the background and the phone being dragged away from him.
"Frenchie? What's the matter? Aren't you at work?"
"Cee, it's Ash. Something's happened to him… I don't know… he's in hospital. He's going for surgery." The tears began to leak from your eyes again. "I can't leave here until someone comes to replace me."
"Fuck that! I'm on my way to get you. Don't move, I'll be there in fifteen minutes."
***
Both Steve and Celia must have committed a plethora of traffic violations to reach you in the time they did, both screeching into the car park within in minutes of each other. Steve got there first, rushing into the hall where you were waiting, clutching a soggy tissue, your bag at your feet.
Without thinking you rushed to him, letting him wrap you in his arms.
"Shhhh… hey hey, don't cry, it's ok. What's happened??" he soothed into your hair, stroking your back.
"Her brother's been rushed into A&E. It sounds bad," said Owen and when you peeled yourself away from Steve he was looking between you with undisguised interest.
Another thing you didn't have time for tonight.
"I have to go," you mumbled. "Thanks for taking over."
"No, I'll take you there myself. Owen'll be fine, they're asleep."
"But the protocol says—"
"Fuck the protocol, Bells," said Steve, catching your face between his hands and you covered them with your own. "I'm taking you, let's go."
"She's not going anywhere with you."
Celia marched in, somehow looking as shiny and put together as she always did even though she must have been half-way to bed when you called. If looks could kill, Steve would have been dead on the spot with the daggers she was shooting him.
"Cee," you murmured, rushing to her and she hugged you.
"Come on, darling, let's go," she said, ushering you towards the door, stopping to grab your bag that Owen proffered towards her.
"I can take her—"
She whirled towards Steve, stepping closer, tall enough that he had to lift his chin to meet her eye.
"You stay the fuck away from her, do you hear me? You've done more than enough damage already."
"Cee," you whispered, shivering at the main door.
"I'm sorry, Bells," Steve said hoarsely as Celia stalked towards you, slipping an arm around your shoulders. "I hope he's ok. Will you let us know in the morning?"
You looked back towards him just before you left, standing there with Owen behind and undoubtedly some awkward questions to answer, when a shadow moved in the background.
"Shy?" you mumbled, but the flash of green hoodie was gone almost as quickly as you'd seen in.
"Come on, French, we need to go," Celia said, gently tugging you by the arm and you let yourself be led out the door and into the freezing night air.
Eeeeeep! How we doing team?? Come scream at me in all the usual ways. If you need inspo, Laura’s primary comment during beta reading was ‘SHUT UP STEVE, DICKHEAD’ 😂 It’s hope you enjoyed as much as she did 🤭 xxx
@cillmequick Sorry it's taken so long for me to leave comments, Alex, but I'm here now to scream Laura's refrain of "DICKHEAD" at that old man!
First I have to say how shocking, but utterly genius on your part, that Amanda discovered the affair from a recording Steve left for her!!! But ofc it would come from a slip that stupid.
The dialogue in this chapter is so good, esp the scene between Amanda and Steve when he's obv trying to evade her with half truths. In this moment it's obv how far he's fallen, mentioning Bella's past as a way to discredit her. That was unforgivable! Such a dick move 😡
The argument between Bella and Steve was difficult to read. The barbs passed between them left an ache in my chest as tho I'd had the argument myself. It made me wonder if they'd ever look at each other the same way again. Then they're embracing in the next scene which speaks to the bond they share despite all the heartache. (Gah, it's all so messy and I'm loving it!!)
The news about Ash made me gasp. All I could think of was the torment for Bella, hearing about his injuries and not being able to get to him straight away. I felt relief when Cee arrived (and might have cheered a bit when she practically lunged at Steve 🤭).
A/N: Ada and Irene are best friends and maybe something more? Part of my American Teenager AU.
Irene sat quietly at the Robinson's kitchen table, feeling disconnected from reality as her mother explained Ada wouldn't be returning to finish her senior year. Irene began to shake as the rush of blood through her ears muffled the words that came next. Glancing down at the xo tattoo on her wrist, her mind wandered to happier times when she and Ada sat side by side getting inked. Ada held her hand the whole time, allowing Irene to cling to her for support. She wished she could live there forever.
The unlikely friendship of a sarcastic, irreverent brunette and a soft spoken, artistic blonde came to be the year before when they struck up a conversation about music during Study Hall. Their debates about the best bands of all time led to hours spent making compilations of their fave songs to share with each other. Ada's CDs were often untitled except for a cheeky message like "Trust me" scrawled across the front in smudged marker. Irene's were decorated with hand drawn designs and a track list with notes to evidence the thoughtful process behind her choices.
By the time the weather turned cold, they were spending every afternoon together in the warmth of the Robinson's shed, the frayed wire of Irene's earbuds dangling between them. And when Ada suggested they smoke weed to enhance the experience, Irene didn't object. In fact, she silently reveled in the closeness each time Ada would shotgun smoke into her open mouth.
It was around this time she began to wonder if her friend might sense her infatuation as their lips brushed in the haze of smoke or savored the taste of the cherry lollipop passed between them. A kiss seemed inevitable six months ago. Now she learned Ada was pregnant? Nothing made sense. As Irene drifted back to the present, she found her cheeks wet with tears. They continued to flow until the day Ada left town with her new boyfriend.
"Tell me why, Ada..." Irene sniffled, unable to let go when something lay broken between them.
“Freddie loves me,” Ada uttered softly, her brown eyes large and apologetic.
Don’t you know how much I love you? Irene wanted to scream as she watched Ada shove her belongings into the back of Freddie’s car.
Irene banged on the passenger side window as the engine roared to life. "Don't leave," she begged, pressing her hand to the glass. But Ada couldn't bring herself to look Irene in the eye.
“She might be your girl now, but she was my girl first,” Irene thought, as Freddie drove away with Ada, unsure how she’d been left behind.
Don’t you know how much I love you? Irene wanted to scream as she watched Ada shove her belongings into the back of Freddie’s car.
Hey calm down Satan you didn’t have to hurt me this bad. Joke aside, it really is a gorgeous moodboard whose softness contradicts with the cruel ending of the blurb. I can almost feel the gentle warmth of the sun on my skin and smell weed as I hear these two giggle. You have created a truly original ship that had been part of my Roman Empire since the very beginning. You have no idea how much I love these two — to the extent that I hate Freddy even if he is a character I enjoy in PB. Now I just want him off the picture 😬
@call-sign-shark My poor babies are doomed to suffer in every AU 😢 (I say as tho I'm not in any way responsible for their pain 🙈) I'm flattered I could make you hate Freddie tho. It's not easy bc I actually like him too, just not when he stands in the way of Ada and Irene. Thanks for reading and leaving such lovely comments, Shark!
Welcome to a world where love was banned. Procreation is still necessary to bring new lives to this world, loveless sex was never forbidden but love as it was known from the beginning of humanity it doesn't exist anymore.
People was uselees when were in love so they created a pill that prevents that. It's free but obligatory to take. Police control the streets and are allowed to arrest those who didn't take it. People are happy now, they insist, as in the streets dull citizens walk or travel from their houses to their works with anything in their heads but their equally dull lives.
But the rebels always existed. Because it's fine if you choose not to love but they can't force you to feel absolutely nothing. The underworld, they say, is full of criminals and bandits. Full of smoke and fights. They tell stories in schools so kids from very young age are discouraged to be part of it. The pill is the salvation if you don't want to become one of them.
James Thorne looked at himself in the mirror after swallowing his pill. He felt nothing, as always happened. Just another day and the same emptiness inside him, like he was missing something. Only he had everything he wanted.
Maybe he should visit that girl. The same girl he always visited although she didn't live in his neighbourhood anymore. She was now downtown. She was part of the underworld.
The underworld that was full of outlaws and full of love.
@justrainandcoffee That's such a badass last line, Flor! Poor James looks so lost and empty in the moodboard, I hope he finds Rosie soon! Love the idea for this dystopian AU. Your mind is incredible, hun!
Warnings: Sex. Abuse. Mentions of abuse. They're criminals, guys, they do bad things.
Note: This is during The Immortal Man. I wanted Tommy to run into a woman who could actually bring him back to life. Meet Dove.
Dividers by @cillmequick
Dove sat dutifully on a military man's lap in the noisy Garrison. His hands roamed as they pleased while she did her best to giggle and play along.
Since Duke and the Peaky Blinders decided to take over the prostitution business in Small Heath, her days had been the same. Wear a small dress, smile, and bounce her short curly blonde hair around while the soldiers pretended she was a girlfriend and not a whore they paid for.
Military soldiers, American and European, were the bulk of the men that came to the Garrison, playing loud music and fighting worse than any regular ever had.
She smiled and played along, but she was somewhere in her mind when the music stopped and a familiar voice carried over the crowd, giving her goosebumps in the white silk slip she wore.
“I’d like to speak to the owner of this pub.”
She couldn't see him through the crowd, but she'd know that voice anywhere. Its deep rumble moved through her, awakening something she hadn't had in quite some time: hope.
A soldier with more brawn than sense mouthed off to him. She strained to look around people to see, but the soldier that wrapped his dirty hands around her hips kept her from seeing anything. Then Elijah’s voice carried through the pub.
“Everybody stay calm,” he said as he tossed a gun to another blinder. “Anyone thinking of pulling a weapon, do not pull a weapon, because this man, ladies and gentleman, is Tommy Shelby.”
She heard the soldiers whisper “who the fuck is that” around her before the mouthy soldier voiced the same question. Dove's breath caught in her throat. She knew the ending before it began.
Shortly after, the man ran out of the pub and the explosion from the grenade in his shirt shook the front. She heard a gun shot and then Tommy's voice cut through the scared silence.
“Music in pubs is always a bad idea,” he said.
“Oh Tommy,” she whispered.
“Everyone out!” Elijah called. “Pubs closed. Get the fuck out!”
The soldier didn't even hesitate; he pushed her off his lap and stood up quickly. She fell to the floor of the pub as the patrons collectively shuffled toward the door. She hissed as she touched her scratched up leg, then crawled under the nearby table to get away from the stampede.
“You,” Tommy pointed at Elijah as the room slowly emptied. “Where is my son?”
“Tom?” Dove called weakly as she lifted herself back to her feet. “It's that really you?”
Elijah flashed Tommy a hesitant look before he rushed over to her and grabbed her arm. He tugged her toward the door.
“I said get the fuck out,” he hissed in her ear.
“Thomas Shelby is still alive,” Dove said in awe, struggling against Elijah's grip on her arm.
“I have been sufficiently revived for the time being,” he said as he examined her closely.
Dove’s round face and big brown eyes made her look youthfully hopeful. The white silk slip hung on every womanly curve until it stopped at mid-thigh. The fabric discoloration around her waist in the shape of hands and scuffed leg burned into his mind. He broke his calm composure as his jaw clenched.
“I said everyone out,” Elijah sneered as he tried to pull her toward the door. “The Garrison is closed, whore.”
“Let her go, boy,” Tommy said sharply before shifting focus to her, tone softening. “Hello, Dove. Catch me up. What has my son done in my stead?”
The blonde shrugged off Elijah's grip from her arm, shooting him a venomous glare before walking toward Tommy.
“Oh, Tommy,” she sighed. “Things have been all bad since you've left, sugar. That son of yours has taken the Peaky Blinders to new levels.”
“Why are you and the girls in my pub?” He frowned. “Mags didn't mention Duke let you do business here.”
“You saw Mad Mags?” Dove asked, bouncing on her heels excitedly. “I miss that old witch. Your son told her she had no further use as a madam. He's in charge of us now. We work the pub.”
Elijah went to interject, stepping between the two.
“Mister Shelby-”
“Let her speak,” Tommy said, raising his hand.
“But she's a-”
“And you're Duke’s friend, so how much should I trust your word, eh?” Tommy said, irritation breaking through his calm composure. “I've known Dove longer than you were alive. Let her speak.”
“Don't age me like that, Tom,” Dove gave a sly smile before she shot Elijah a look. “I'm not much older than you. He knew my daddy in the war.”
“Duke sells women now?” Tommy offered, trying to get the conversation back on track.
“Peaky Blinders do, yeah, to the soldiers,” Dove said, rubbing her arms as if she just realized she was scantily dressed in a silk slip in a drafty bar. “We're told to drain them of their funds.”
Dove eyed Elijah closely, who continued to scowl at her.
“The Americans like girls to sit around and act friendly like, like they're regular girls and not just whores. Mad Mags works at the market, I hear, cutting fish for pennies.”
“And delivering grenades to old friends,” Tommy said simply. “What else has my son been up to?”
Dove brushed a blonde curl out of her face, and for a moment Tommy saw a flash of Grace in her; the poise, the softness. He gritted his teeth, gently shaking his head until Dove came back to his view and the ghost disappeared. Her big brown eyes were wide.
“Now I don't want trouble,” Dove stammered, raising her hands in protest.
Tommy watched goosebumps race up her arms. In a swift movement, he shrugged off his coat and placed it around her shoulders. She hesitated but slipped into it, letting his scent cling to her skin like a hug.
“I want answers,” Tommy said. “There will be no harm to you for telling the truth.”
Dove eyed Elijah again, her teeth worrying her lip. Tommy watched as Elijah eyed the girl back. She shuddered.
“Right,” Tommy pointed to Elijah. “You, wait outside. We'll talk without your influence. Once we're done, you'll take me to Duke.”
Elijah paled but nodded and walked out of the pub, leaning against the frosted glass by the large doors.
Tommy watched him leave with a clenched jaw before he turned his attention back to Dove. He motioned for her to make her way to the bar.
Dove slipped past him, flipping her short curly blonde bob. Tommy inhaled the soft floral scent that trailed behind her. She was a spring day, temperate and sweet. He flexed his hands to fight the urge to touch her.
She reached over the bar and grabbed a fifth of whiskey and two glasses as he trailed behind her. She poured him a glass before pouring her own, glancing over to Elijah's shadow before she downed her glass.
Tommy shrugged his blazer off and put it over a chair, now only in his white button up shirt and vest. He reached into a pocket and pulled out a cigarette and lighter, rolling the cigarette across his lips before lighting it and taking a long inhale.
He exhaled slowly. Dove sat her glass down and gently took the cigarette from his hand to take a drag of her own.
“I won't ask again, Dove,” Tommy said softly.
Dove sighed.
“Ada was going against Duke to turn them in for taking munitions, but he's been stealing morphine from the hospitals, too,” Dove said as she handed Tommy back his cigarette. “He's stolen pigs and other livestock. Factory supplies. If it's not nailed down, it's theirs. Fuck the rest of us.”
Tommy went to lean on the counter and winced, his shirt sticking to the crust of dried alcohol on the countertop. Dove reached out, pulling his hand toward her as she swiftly removed his cuff link and slid it in his coat pocket at her waist. She began to roll his sleeve up to his elbow, taking care to do so evenly.
“Keep your nice clothes clean in this filthy place,” she said playfully as she motioned for him to switch arms. “Come on, then.”
Tommy rolled his eyes but acquiesced, cigarette hanging from his lips. Dove slipped the matching cuff link with its mate in her pocket and rolled up his other sleeve, stopping halfway up his forearm as her fingers grazed a tattoo she hadn't seen before.
Her fingers softly traced the hand shaking a snake hand before she looked up to meet his eyes.
“What's this?”
“None of your concern,” Tommy said as he stubbed his smoke out on the sticky bar top and brushed her away to roll his sleeve back down. Dove placed her hands over his, stilling the movement.
“I'll concern myself with you if I wish,” Dove said gently as she resumed rolling his sleeve up. “What's in your head? You're… different.”
“I've been writing a book,” he said. “Trying to sort through my head to know where it all went wrong.”
“You've been away so long,” she said as she traced the tattoo reverently. “Small Heath misses you, Tom. I miss you.”
Tommy's words caught in his mouth. He worked them around his throat and jaw as he let himself fall into Dove's warm brown eyes. He memorized every inch of worry on her face, every soft gaze, every warm feature. He wanted to remember it to recall it in the end.
“Oh Tommy,” Dove sighed as she reached up and cupped his face in her hands. “What have you done?”
“If only it was a dove that visited me instead of a blackbird,” Tommy whispered, leaning into her warm hands.
“What?” She asked, brows knitted together in confusion.
“Nothing, Dove,” he said, throat dry as his hand reached hers and his tired blue eyes met her big brown eyes. “If only I met you as a younger man. Before all this,” he paused, searching her face again. “Devilry.”
“Tommy, you're worrying me,” she said as she dropped her hands from his face to his chest to play with his vest buttons. “Stay with me a bit until you get your footing. There's plenty to catch up on. Your son is a real piece of work. He’s got your ambition but a mean streak a mile wide.”
“I can't, love,” he said. “I've got to speak to me son. Big business going on without me. I need to find out if he's worth saving.”
“Then come to me,” Dove pouted as she tugged him closer. “After Duke. Surely you can't be busy all night.”
Her perfume filled his senses as she curled up against his chest. Tommy found himself wrapping around her until his hands met against her lower back. His chin found the top of her head, and he placed a soft kiss in her hair. Dove took a deep breath as she laid her head on his collar bone, faintly hearing his heart beating like a steady drum.
“I've got business to deal with,” Tommy said without conviction.
“It has to happen today?” Dove whined softly, childishly picking at his buttons. “Come to me. Let me be a safe place to rest before you do whatever it is that has you so…”
Dove's words trailed off as she looked up at him sadly. Tommy's demeanor was so rigid. He had always been a quiet man, but the separation of his body and brain had never felt so distant or final before.
“Let me be your safe place to land once more,” she whispered before rising on her tip-toes and giving him a small kiss on the lips. “For old times sake.”
“Don't make me beg, Tom,” she whispered. “You know I'll do it. For you.”
Dove's brown eyes widened with her plea. Tommy found himself falling into them, the warmth of her like a sunny spring day after a long hard winter. He craved it. If only for a moment. She was intoxicating. She was innocent. She was untarnished, an oasis in the desolation.
Hands may have touched her, roughed her up, but there she stood. Still soft. Untainted from the filth.
Tommy smoothed her wild curly hair down before he gently grabbed the back of her neck and pulled her in to kiss her deeply. Dove melted into him until all his senses were her. He smelled her sweet perfume. He was surrounded by her golden curls. He felt her soft skin. He heard her soft moans. He tasted her sweetness. Everything was her.
Until he pulled away.
“Tonight,” Tommy said softly as tried to regain his composure. “Go out the back. I'll have Elijah take me to my son. Once plans are set, I'll come to you.”
“Yes, Tommy,” she said as she took a step back. She bit her lip. “Tommy?”
“Yes?”
“Promise me.”
Thomas Shelby sighed. He picked up his blazer and put it on. He gently took his jacket from her shoulders before slipping it back on. His hand found hers, bringing it to his lips.
“I promise that I'll find you tonight.”
He stepped backward, looking at her thoughtfully before turning around for the door. As soon as he opened it, Elijah jumped to attention.
“Take me to Duke,” Tommy said as he pulled out another cigarette to light, observing the blood and gore spattered around the street.
Elijah nodded and walked him down the lane, making odd turns and twists until he stopped in front of a building.
“He should be in there,” Elijah pointed. “If you'll excuse me, I have some business to attend to. I need to go clean up the Garrison if there's any hope of reopening this evening.”
Tommy nodded. Elijah tucked his head down and headed back toward the bar. Tommy took a long pull of his cigarette before stomping it out and walking toward his son, determined to weigh his soul.
Dove paced her flat. The sun had gone down hours before and she grew too nervous to sit and wait. She walked back and forth barefoot in a new light blue silk slip chemise. It was shorter than the one earlier, stopping at the tops of her thigh.
She bit her lip, unsure if Tommy would come like he said he would, or if he only said it to appease her in the moment. She hoped he would come.
Hours later, when the world was quiet, she heard a soft knock on her door. She nearly fell over herself getting to it. With her hand on the door handle and her forehead on the door, she breathed deep and pushed her nerves aside, recollecting herself to greet him.
She opened the door a crack to see a familiar shadow waiting for her in the doorway. His hat hung low, concealing his face, but the aura was undeniably Tommy Shelby. She opened the door wide, a small smile graced her lips as he walked in without a word.
Candles were lit and placed on every surface and on the floor, creating a warm low light. Tommy removed his coat and blazer in one swift movement, and before he could turn around, Dove had taken them and placed them on the settee. She took his hands and led him down a short hallway to her bed.
“I wasn't sure if you'd actually come,” she whispered shakily.
“I made a pretty girl a promise,” Tommy said as he reached for her cheek. “I try my best to keep my promises.”
Tommy’s fingers wrapped around the back of her neck and gently pulled her to him. He heard her small gasp before he buried his face in her neck, kissing from ear to collarbone, tasting every inch. She led him backward to the bed, crawling on it as she begged him to follow. He paused, leaning over her as she moved back, enjoying every heave of her chest and quiet plea rolling from her lips.
“Please,” she pleaded. “Don't tease me.”
His eyes regained an old spark as her words burned through the space between them. His hands found themselves lifting her slip, finding no difference in feel between the fabric and her skin.
Before she could protest or ask what he was doing, his tongue pressed softly along the edges of her sex. He traced every curve and soft spot until she melted in his hands and sighed. Dove moaned softly as he explored her, paying special attention to any place she tensed at, until she began to feel her body wind up from the pressure.
“Yes, that's it,” she murmured as he continued. The pressure curled tight in her hips and stomach until she couldn't take it anymore.
She shuddered under his touch, a wild cry erupting as Tommy picked up the pace, pressing against her tighter as her body rolled in waves of ecstacy. He carried her through every wave until she babbled and begged for him to release her, his touch being too much.
Tommy let go, crawling to her mouth to share her sweet taste. She pawed hungrily at his slacks, helping him push them down before hastily unbuttoning his vest and shirt.
Tommy absentmindedly shrugged off his layers as they came undone, tossing them behind him. Dove kissed him hungrily as he bared down above her. He gently widened her legs before pressing into her. Dove saw stars.
“Tommy,” she moaned.
She heard a low chuckle as his hot breath filled her ear.
“Yes, darling?” he murmured between thrusts.
She wrapped her legs around him, twisting until she rolled him onto his back and she bounced on top of him. She leaned back, covering her eyes in soft curls until all he could see was her Cheshire grin and her body writhing above him in ecstacy. Tommy's mouth slacked at the sight. This was heaven.
“Cal me darling again,” she sighed.
Tommy touched the angel glowing in the candlelight above him.
“Of course, darling.”
They collapsed together, blissfully spent and equally satisfied. Tommy lay down on his back, arm dangling off the bed as he looked over to a dark corner in her room, the candles burning low now. He flinched slightly, just enough that she felt his mood shift the feeling of the room. He continued panting, but his demeanor slowly shifted from content to withdrawn.
“What are you looking at?” Dove asked, her face relaxed in bliss as she wrapped herself around him. She placed her head on his chest and looked into the same corner, seeing nothing but darkness and clothes strung along her room.
Tommy licked his lips, staring at the dark corner intently. His eyes focused on something she could not see.
“There's talk I see spirits,” he said simply.
Dove chuckled, drawing lazy loops across his chest. She enjoyed basking in the glow, feeling his skin on hers.
“Always have been, yes,” she said, playfully. “What, do you see a ghost in my room?”
Tommy swallowed. His mouth felt dry.
“She always comes after,” he said quietly. “To remind me this bliss is temporary. That she's waiting.”
Dove's face froze, afraid she would scare him away if she showed a hint of emotion.
“Your late wife?” She asked softly, hesitantly.
“Grace.”
“You mentioned once I reminded you of her,” she said carefully.
Tommy hummed agreement, his hand finding her arm to gently rub in reassurance, but his eyes never left the corner. He was afraid that if he looked away, Grace would leave. Or worse, if he looked at Dove, he'd see Grace instead.
“A poor imitation at best,” his pretty dead barmaid scowled from the corner. “Soon you'll return to me, my love. Soon you'll be at peace in my arms.”
The longer he watched her, the more times she visited him, the more he wasn't sure if it was a dream or a nightmare.
“Come back to the living, sugar,” Dove whispered softly, nipping his ear playfully. “Tell her she doesn't get you just yet.”
Tommy smiled.
Tommy traced Dove's frame as they lay beside each other in bed. The sun peeked through the sheer curtains and lit up the room. Every curve, every soft place, every satisfied sigh. He closed his eyes and tried to memorize the taste of her. And then she winced at his touch.
His hand froze as his eyes popped open to look at where he touched, where she pulled away from him. A deep bruise was forming on the side of her stomach below her ribcage in the soft part of her middle. It must have been hidden in the soft candlelight, but the bright morning revealed every blue, black, and purple hue.
“What is that?” Tommy murmured, leaning down to kiss her shoulder.
“Oh, it's nothing,” she said, grimacing before forcing a smile. “No need to worry.”
“Dove.”
She let out a shaky breath as tears formed in her eyes and she looked at the floor.
“I just wanted it to be a nice night,” she whispered as she wiped a stray tear away.
A voice rang in Tommy's ear.
I've got some business to attend to.
“Elijah?” Tommy asked. “Duke's friend came back for you?”
“I needed a reminder of who I belong to,” Dove said hollowly.
“Why didn't you tell me?” Tommy asked, pulling her face to look at him.
“You're not staying, Tommy,” she said softly. “I have to live here. Whatever you do, I have to survive in Small Heath after you leave.”
“Listen to me-”
“What can you do, Tommy?” She said, her sadness bleeding into anger. “I can't politely ask Duke to be nice to me because I was his daddy's favorite whore.”
Dove let out a soft gasp as soon as she said it, her eyes darted to meet his own and her hands scrambled to touch him. She saw it immediately. The wall went back up. His eyes turned to glaciers. Their time together was done.
“When I'm gone,” Tommy's voice was calm and level, as if he was reading the newspaper. “Ask one of the old men, the regulars, where to find a man named Johnny Dogs. Go to him. Tell him your name. He'll get you out of Small Heath. A flat in London, perhaps. Find a nice secretary job. Get out of town.”
“Tommy,” Dove pleaded. “I'm sorry, I didn't mean it-”
“Johnny is a friend,” Tommy said as he picked up her hand and kissed it. “Go to him. Get out. If you hear the name Shelby ever again, run. We're fucking cursed.”
Tommy climbed out of bed, gathering his clothes that had been strewn around the room, and began to get dressed. Slowly. Methodically. Dove could see him adding layer after layer of clothes, slowly rebuilding the myth of Thomas Shelby back up in order to return to whatever business he was into.
Dove sighed, remaining in bed. She knew this look. He had no plans of staying or returning. He was lost.
Tommy turned back to her, perfectly polished as if the night never occurred.
“For once,” Dove said, voice quivering. “I wish you would stay.”
“You've no use for a dead man,” he said somberly as he dropped money beside her on the bed. “Remember what I said. Find Johnny Dogs after the shock is over. He'll help you.”
Tommy hesitantly leaned down, cupping Dove's face one more time as he placed a soft kiss on her lips.
“Goodbye, Dove,” he said softly.
Dove closed her eyes as a tear ran down her cheek. Like a ghost, Tommy was gone with little more than a quiet click of the door closing.
@murderousginger “If only it was a dove that visited me instead of a blackbird." Oh, Ginger, don't torture me with what could have been (Okay, more like, don't threaten me with a good time bc I live for angsty drama!)
This fic was a beautifully executed bit of wish fulfillment for me. I adore the notion of Tommy reuniting with someone who can bring him back to life, if only for a few hours. How I wish he'd gotten something close to this in canon! The sex scene with Kaulo was deeply uncomfortable to watch for several reasons, but esp her insistence on opening emotional wounds before the man can finish his fucking cigarette!! That was just rude.
By contrast, you can feel a sense of comfort wash over Tommy when he's in Dove's presence. OMG, the bit about him getting enveloped in the feel of her hair and the scent of her perfume so that he forgets where he is?? 🥹 You've provided such amazing sensory detail that I felt her angelic presence as well.
And yet, there's always a reminder of Tommy's curse looming. I thought it was clever to include the visions of Grace to illustrate the torment he experiences. It makes his fleeting time with Dove all the more precious. Btw I'm esp fond of the small, protective gestures that reveal how much they care for each other. Dove rolling up his sleeves to keep him clean or Tommy's reaction to the bruise Elijah left on her stomach. When he calls her "darling", I melted.
I knew Tommy would eventually leave to attend to the Beckett business, but I was still shattered by his goodbye. I always find it jarring how quickly he compartmentalizes his emotions. And that last tender kiss was terrifically bittersweet. Ugh...my heart 💔
Now I'm left wanting more bc I have so many questions about their shared past. Will you explore that in another fic? I'd love to read more about Dove. In fact, I've already sent you some questions from the character ask you posted 😉
Summary; Jacqueline needs help, the Wallace family grows, Cassie tries to help Sean without telling him.
Warnings; Smut all of it unprotected & typical gangs violence. Minions DNI, Mature themes & Sexual content.
Word count; A little more tame this time 8.1k
Header & Dividers by @cillmequick 😘 - Birdie belongs to Alex you can find her story here. 🥰 Once again a massive thank you Alex for being my Beta Bestie™ 😘
This isn't canon to Gangs Of London - Some topics have been taken from the series but not in the same concept/timeline.
Complete fiction - Cassie is my creation.
Masterlist | Souls
Part Fifteen - Safe Hands.
Jacqueline wasn't expecting her mother on her doorstep before 10am on a Wednesday morning, any kind of visit from her mother was an unwelcome one. She pulls the slice of over buttered toast from her mouth, brushes the crumbs from her dress.
"Mum, what are you doing here?"
Marian makes her way into the hall without being invited in, "I came to visit my very pregnant daughter after I find out from my son that she was in hospital just a few days ago"
"and what do you really want?"
Jac pulls two mugs from the shelves above the kettle, as Marian starts to answer her "I spoke to Sean, he had some interesting information"
Marian takes a seat at the kitchen island, Jac flicks the kettle on, dumping her cold slice of toast on a nearby plate.
"Mother just come out with it, I'm in no mood for your cryptic messages"
Marian swipes crumbs from the side before she leans her arms on it, "He told me, you told him"
"About what?" She narrows her eyes, Marian sighs "about the lie we told that girl"
"Cassie, not saying her name doesn't magically banish her from the kingdom" Jac laughs lightly at herself.
Marian ignores her, narrowing her eyes at her only daughter.
"I just can't understand why you would tell him after so long"
"It was only six months and if you hadn't noticed he was miserable" she hands her a cup of tea.
"Miserable? While running around London with Hollie?"
"He was using Hollie" She sighs, taking a seat on the sofa, not even attempting the higher island chairs at this point in her pregnancy.
"Well in the end he would have come to his senses" Marian shrugs, "Telling him has just caused him to drop the ball on the business for a few weeks, we can't have him dropping the ball"
"We can't? or you can't?"
"Jacqueline, you're so bitter for no reason every time I see you"
"Are you seriously telling me I have no right to be hostile around you?"
Marian sips from her tea, "Are you still hung up on James?"
Jacqueline slams her cup on the table, "Hung up…are you serious?"
"You don't think I should be hung up on the death of my husband? Hung up on the death of my unborn babies father? at the hands of my own family?"
"Jac-"
"You kept his involvement in the business a secret from me until it was too late"
"It wasn't like that.."
Jacqueline shakes her head "I could see exactly how this was heading with Sean. I couldn't stand by while he lost the love of his life, couldn't watch him think she left him"
"I couldn't watch it happen all over again, I've been through it and Sean didn't deserve it"
Marian sighs, "Jac, I was doing this for the business. Sean needed redirection. That girl was getting in the way"
"That girl loves your son, loves him so much that she's going to try and see past how awful his family is and be with him again"
"She's coming back and you can't stop it from happening"
"She's back already, she answered his work phone" Marian rolls her eyes.
"He loves her, you're going to ruin your own relationship with Sean if you keep acting this way"
"He'll see sen-"
"No, he'll choose Cassie over you, he already has"
"Jacqueline, you gave him that option when you told him the truth"
"I'm glad I did, he deserves to be happy, fuck knows this family makes everyone miserable. He deserves happiness away from it"
Marian stands up, leaving her cup of tea untouched "your problem Jacqueline is your always trying to pull away from the family, you done it when you married James and you're doing it again"
Jac laughs at her "I married James so I could be loved by someone who knew how to be loving and kind, and you ruined that. You and dad went behind my back and ripped it away from me"
Marian picks up her handbag "James made his own decision to help your father, we didn't force him"
Jacqueline shrugs "You didn't stop him either"
Marian rolls her eyes "I wasn't his mother"
"That wouldn't have mattered" She scoffs, as Marian approaches the front door.
"You and your brother are exactly the same, both of you blame me and your father for how you've turned out"
Folding her arms on top of her her bump Jacqueline sighs, "No, we blame you both for how you forced us into this shitty life, pretending that giving us all the material things would make up for everything else"
Marian's grip tightens on the door handle "We set you up for life, we set all three of you up and how did you repay us?"
"Oh I'm sure you're going to enlighten me"
"Billy repays us with drug binges and disappearing for days on end, you've repaid us by cutting us out of your life and my grandchild's life and Sean, he's repaid us by continuing things with that girl. I'm not sure which one is worse"
"Oh mum, when are you going to actually stop trying to get us to feel sorry for you"
Marian tugs open the door "Goodbye Jacqueline"
-
"Come in" Sean calls, the knock on the door to his office subsides as it opens.
"Are you busy?" Cassie asks as she steps in, Sean gets up from his chair.
"Not when you're here" he smiles, making his way over to her.
"Everything going ok?" he asks, leaning to press a kiss to her forehead.
"Yeah, I was just doing some digging for you. I think I've found her" She places her laptop on his desk, Sean leans over her shoulder. Cassie turns her head so she can kiss him.
"Floriana Elezi" she points at the screen, "There was some other paperwork in that folder of your dads, she's all over his bank accounts and there's a flat in Kentish Town under both their names"
"Her flat isn't too far from where your dad was found" she points to the address, "I think that's her own flat, from what I can gather they'd only just purchased the Kentish Town one"
"Her name also confirms the yacht your mum found details for" she pulls out the folder containing all the information of a yacht purchase a few months before Finn was killed.
Sean smiles "Maybe we could pay her a visit?"
Cassie grins, Sean lips move down her neck nipping against the skin, "I think we should" she sighs.
-
"My mum called this morning" Sean pulls out of the office carpark, flicking a look across to Cassie.
He watches as she stiffens slightly at the mention of Marian, lip pulled tight between her teeth.
"Yeah?" She's looking out the window, her knee bouncing in anticipation "Yeah, she's been asking to see me, again"
"Do you want too?" She asks, turning to look at him "Not particularly, no"
"Then don't" she slides her hand onto his thigh "It's your life, Sean"
"I know but it's hard to hear her so upset" he shrugs, turning at the traffic lights "Yeah of course, I get that"
"But I can't forgive her, what she done to me, to you. How she tried to ruin us" his knuckles tighten on the steering wheel "Now I know why Jac keeps her at a distance"
Cassie squeezes his thigh "Whatever you do, I'll support you"
Sean covers her hand with his, "I know, I just haven't decided yet"
She nods, "You don't have to straight away"
Sean thanks her for understanding, they fall into silence until he turns into the car lined street.
He turns to her after he's parked, hooking his fingers under her chin. Eyes locked on hers "I'm so happy to have you back and I don't want her to ruin anything for us"
Cassie smiles "She won't, just don't leave us in a room alone"
Sean laughs lightly before he gets out of the car "Never"
He holds the car door open for her, kissing her softly before he lets her out. "What are you going to say to this woman?" She asks.
Sean shrugs as they head towards the house "Hi, I think you were fucking my dad before he died"
Cassie shoves him, he wraps his arm around her waist "no don't lead with the fucking"
"Oh? Too forward?" He smirks
"Maybe a bit" they head up the path to the front door.
"It wasn't for you when we first met" he teases, knocking on the front door "yeah well like I've said before I was pretty desperate" she presses onto her tiptoes to kiss his cheek.
"Is that so?" He laughs as the door opens, they pull apart "Hello?" The woman frowns at them.
Sean straightens up "I'm Sean….Sean Wallace and I think you knew my father"
The ear piercing wail from somewhere behind her, makes her sigh "you better come in" she holds the door open for them.
-
Cassie and Sean wait in the kitchen as she disappears up the stairs, "do you think she's married?" Cassie whispers, Sean's eyes are darting around the room.
"No I'm not" Floriana appears with a baby on her hip "oh" Cassie nods "this is Zeek, your fathers son"
Sean blinks, a look of confusion on his face "my fathers what?"
"Son, I had your fathers baby"
Sean is silent, eyes locked on the baby in her arms. "My half brother?" He asks, Floriana shrugs "yes I suppose"
Cassie turns to look at Sean, he gives her a nod letting her know he's ok. "So you were seeing my father"
Floriana nods "We were in love, he was going to leave your mother for me"
Cassie watches as Sean draws a deep breath at her words "do you know who killed him?"
She shakes her head "He wasn't with me at the time, he had left hours before because I revealed my pregnancy"
She looks at the little boy "he didn't want me to go through with it"
"I don't care about the pregnancy" Sean snaps "he was an awful Father this baby wouldn't have been treated any differently by him"
Cassie knows he's hurt, he loves his dad, has looked up to him. He's trying to hurt her, this woman who was going to ruin their lives.
"He was fond of you and siblings" she argues back "fond of us when we done his dirty work yeah"
"So you knew he had a family?" Cassie's asks, Floriana nods "I did"
Sean takes another deep breath, he goes to speak but she interrupts.
She sighs "if you're here for answers I have none"
Sean nods, holds out his hand for Cassie "fine, let's go"
He doesn't wait for her to take his hand, he stalks out of the kitchen back onto the street.
Cassie gives her a small smile "if you want to talk this is my number" she hands her a business card, Floriana thanks her.
-
Sean's hand is wrapped around her bunched up t-shirt pressing against her stomach. Holding her against the sofa, she's on her back legs bent, mouth open as she whines for him. Begs him to to stop teasing her, to just fuck her, please.
He teases his cock through her soaked slit, taps the head against her clit making her body shudder as she cries out.
"Look at you, so needy huh?" He hums, his free hand tangling with hers "Need my cock?"
"Yes please, please" she pouts at him, reaching for his cock, "No" he laughs, "No touching"
Cassie lets out a frustrated moan head thrown back, as he slowly presses the head of his cock against her needy pussy "Want me to fill you up?"
She nods, he taps against her cheek "Use your words, darling"
"Sean I swear to god, if you don't fu-" he shuts her up with a swift push of his cock into her, fills her to the hilt as she cries out.
Sean smirks, "Is that what you need, baby?"
Her eyes flutter open, she has a sloppy grin on her face "Yeah, need you" she hums, hands pressing against his chest.
"I'm here" he soothes, rocking his hips slowly down, her pussy contracts around him "I've got you"
She hooks her leg against back, he grabs her hand holding it above her head as he speeds up his pace. Pressing her harder into the sofa, she knows he's frustrated after their visit to Floriana
She knows he's wanting to release the tension, and she isn't going to deny him. Having him buried inside her isn't something she's going to start refusing.
"So wet, Cass" he hums, "only I can get you this wet, huh?"
She nods, "yes, fuck so wet for you, only you" she whines, "your girl"
Sean smiles squeezing her hand "All mine baby, all mine" he dips his head, lips catching hers.
-
"She knows more than she let on" Sean lights the joint as Cassie comes back from the bathroom, cleaned up and in his jumper.
She plucks the joint from his lips before he's barely had a substantial toke, settles on the sofa next to him legs curled under herself, she takes a drag. "I could go alone? Speak to her?"
Sean shakes his head "I couldn't ask you to do that"
He's watching her, flushed cheeks, hair messed up, lips swollen, all because of him. He still has moments where he can't believe he's got her back.
Cassie hands him the joint back, letting him take a proper drag this time. "You didn't, I'm offering?"
She leans across to grab the nail polish off the coffee table, bending her leg resting her foot on his thigh "don't move"
She starts with the red paint on her toe nails as Sean thinks it over. "I don't want you to meet her alone"
She looks up at him, nail polish in her hands she pouts, he gets the hint presses the joint to her lips "Sean-"
Smoke billows between them as he speaks, "No, Cass. I don't want you involved in this. I've got people trying to kill me"
"I'll go somewhere public, ask her to bring the baby surely tha-"
Sean shakes his head "Cassie, these people don't care about babies or wives. I don't want you to go"
Cassie nods "Fine, ok" she hands him the pot of polish, he rests the joint on the ash tray taking it from her. She shuffles round to get in a better position.
They sit in silence as she finishes off, Cassie can tell he's overthinking it. She flicks a look up at him, he's watching her.
"I just want you safe, ok?" He hands her back the pot, she nods "Yeah, I know"
He leans to kiss her, before picking the joint back up. His phone vibrating across the coffee table distracts them, Elliot's name on the screen.
Sean groans, sliding to answer. Cassie tidies up around him as he chats with Elliot.
"You'll have to pick me up, mate. Had a joint with the missus" he grins at Cassie she flips him off. He makes plans and hangs up.
"Work?" She asks from the kitchen, watching as he stands from the sofa stretches out with a yawn "Yeah sorry Cass"
She shrugs "it's ok, I can lay around naked waiting for you"
Sean grins, "So in reality you're going to get into bed in one of my T-shirts and scroll through social media?"
She meets him between the kitchen and the lounge, "You know me so well"
He bends his head to kiss her lips "I shouldn't be long Elliot has a lead in Kentish Town which is a bit of coincidence"
"Maybe there's more than we think happening there"
Sean nods, pulling away so he can get changed "You'll be safe though?" She asks immediately biting her lip with worry.
This is the first time he's left in the evening for work relating to his fathers death, she tries to push the feeling of dread down.
The thought of Elliot dragging him semi-conscious through the door of their home this time, the crimson blood splashing on the hardwood floor, the way it would stain into the wood and she would have to see it everyday for the rest of their lives.
She can't bare the thought of holding pressure against another gunshot wound, trying to stop the blood pouring out of his body. Her hands covered in the sticky warm substance, the metallic scent filling her nose.
"Cass" his voice breaks through her thoughts, pulling her back into the bedroom. She gives him a small smile, "Sorry, I was somewhe-"
"I'll be safe, I promise" he cups her chin in his palm, she nods "I'll wait up for you"
He leans forward to kiss her, slow, tongues rolling together "You don't have to" he mutters lips still touching.
"Want too" she replies, he presses his lips harder against hers letting her lick into his mouth, her hands gripping onto his arms
"Stay" she hums, lips inches from his. Eyes locked on each other.
Sean smiles against her lips "Elliot's on his way I-"
Cassie grins at him "I know"
-
Cassie is laying sprawled out in the bed, the TV playing some brain numbing reality show that she has no interest in.
As she scrolls through her phone, Sean's call takes over the screen.
Her heart's pounding as she accepts and puts him on speaker. Her mind racing with all the possibilities of what could have happened to him.
"What's wrong?" She sits up straighter, immediately thinking the worse.
"I'm fine, I promise. I just need you to go be with Jac" there's commotion in the background.
"Why is she ok?"
"She's in labour, I can't get hold of Billy and she's refusing to see mum and I can't leave here right now. Please Cass"
"Sean I'm not saying no but surely she has someone else to go be with her. A friend or someone from James' family? She can't want me there, she hardly knows me"
"Cass, she really doesn't have anyone, James' family blame her for his death and her friends are all nurses - probably all on shift. I don't want her to do this alone, please"
"Let me get changed and I'll go. Where is she?" She gets out of bed pulling items of clothing from the back of chairs and the wardrobe.
"The Royal London, I've already got Tim on the way to pick you up"
"Ok, great I'll head down and wait for him. Does she know I'm coming?"
"Yeah, her neighbour is taking her in and will stay until someone gets there. Cass I can't have her doing this alone"
"Sean, calm down ok? I'm getting changed, grabbing my things and I'll be downstairs waiting for Tim" she's stumbling around the bedroom as she dresses.
"Thank you, I'll come as soon as I can"
"I know you will, don't worry"
"Fuck, I love you Cass"
"I love you, now hang up stop worrying and call me when you've managed to free yourself up to come"
-
There's commotion outside of the maternity suite, raised voices. Cassie frowns surely this ward should be peaceful. Jacqueline is an hour and a half into her labour with no end in sight. Her contractions haven't worsened, the right strap around her stomach is monitoring the baby.
The melodic chime of the machines signalling all was ok with both mother and baby.
"Do you know what you're having?" Cassie asks.
Jac shakes her head "No, we always said it would be a surprise and I've kept that promise to him"
Cassie gives her a small smile "What was he like?"
Jacqueline sighs, closing her eyes "You don't want to hear me ramble on about my dead husband"
Cassie laughs, squeezing her hand quickly "I'm here for you and if you would like to ramble on about him I'm all ears"
Jacqueline gives her a smile, shuffling in the bed for a different position, before she can say anything else the door opens letting in the noise of the busy ward. Jacqueline groans as she spots the visitor.
Cassie's body tenses as she locks eyes with her, the ringing in her ears a sure sign of her panic.
"Those people out there telling me I can't come in and she's here?" Marian frowns the minute she see's Cassie, Jac lets out a long frustrated sigh.
"I don't want you here" she hisses, Cassie hands her a glass of water "Don't stress, Jac"
"I'm your mother, I should be here"
Cassie catches the look Jacqueline gives her, she nods "Marian, she's in the middle of having a baby I think she gets to decide what she wants"
Marian has her arms folded across her middle, eyes burning into the side of Cassie's face "You think? You of all people think you know whats best in this situation?"
"Mum-"
"No, its unbelievable that you'd have this girl you hardly know in the room with you while I'm forced to leave"
"Maybe we should go outside, Jac doesn't need this" Cassie suggests.
Marian doesn't move, in a silent battle with Cassie to see who will give in first.
"Mum, just get out. leave me alone - I don't want you here"
Cassie stands by the door, "Marian, she needs space to be able to do this"
Marian looks over at Jacqueline, she can't understand why her only daughter wants her out of the room during such a big moment in both their lives. "Please mum"
Jac's voice is softer than before, almost pleading with her. She finally nods, leaving the room. Cassie following her out.
"You've got some nerve, how dare you think you have any right to be in there with her" She doesn't hold back as the door shuts behind them.
Cassie takes a seat on one of the small plastic chairs "She needed someone, Sean asked her and she was more than happy to have me here"
Marian is still standing, towering over her in her heels "You don't get to waltz into this family and throw everything off, Cassandra"
"I've thrown nothing off. I'm being supportive, I'm accepting that this family does some shitty things and trying to be happy with Sean"
"I'm her mother it should be me in there"
Cassie stands up, making her way back to the door "she doesn't want that and as a mother you should respect her wishes"
-
Jac is gripping onto Cassie's hand, she's not sure how long ago she lost all feeling in her fingers.
"God Cass you don't know how lucky you are not wanting kids" Jac pants, head pushed back against the mattress. "This is fucking torture"
Cassie holds back a laugh, wiping Jacs brow with a face cloth "he told you then?"
"Yeah the other week, it's probably for the best we don't want too many babies bought into this fucked up family"
The midwife looks between the two girls, an amused smile on her face.
"Jacqueline, on your next contraction I want a big push right down into the mattress"
"I can't do that I'm exhausted" she huffs out a frustrated breath, Cassie pushes her sweat drenched hair from her forehead.
"You have to Jac, no one else is getting this baby out of you"
Jacqueline meets Cassie's gaze, "I want to fucking hate you so much Cassandra" she laughs through another tightening of her abdomen.
"Oh right? So me being here isn't cementing our sisterly bond?"
"Oh fuck off" she wails clutching at Cassie's hand, baring down into the mattress. She falls back with a long sigh, "I just need a break, please"
The midwife nods "We can try but baby has a mind of their own at this stage"
Cassie squeezes her hand, "You're doing so well Jac"
"If I shit myself that's really going to give us a unbreakable bond" she whines.
-
Cassie is grateful when Sean walks through the door two hours later, Jac is in a fresh nightgown, a sleeping baby in her arms.
She watches the emotion flicker across his face as he leans over to have the first glimpse of his niece. Cassie can feel the emotion radiating off him.
"Another girl to look after" Jac hums as Sean wipes at his eyes.
"Don't get soppy, where did you just come from? Some big gangster mission and now you're crying over this"
Sean shakes his head "fuck off Jac"
He presses a soft kiss to Jac's head with a laugh as Cassie joins him, he wraps his arm around her waist pulling her tight against his side.
"Does she have a name?" Sean asks, Jacqueline nods "Lily June"
"Hi Lily June" he hums, Cassie is watching him closely, she can tell he's smitten already.
"Look at her, we've got a niece" he beams, Cassie nods "Well you have"
"You're definitely Auntie Cass" Jacqueline smiles, "You were here from the moment she came into the world"
Cassie bites at her lip, feeling Sean's fingers press into her side "Really?"
"Really, you welcomed her into the Wallace Family even though most of the Wallace family have been awful to you"
Cassie looks up at Sean he leans to press a kiss to her forehead, "oh fuck sake stop it" she laughs as her own tears push from her waterline.
"I'll leave you two and get some coffee? Do you want any food Jac?" She wipes at her cheeks, moving from Sean to grab her bag.
"Just a coffee please" she smiles.
Sean pulls Cassie back to kiss her "You alright?"
"Going to the hospital shop on my own? I think so" she smirks.
Sean rolls his eyes, as she leaves the room, taking one last look over her shoulder at the siblings and the new addition to the family cradled in Sean's arms.
-
"Cassandra, wait!"
Her voice rips through her as she heads back from the shop. Cassie knows she will never feel anything but anger and panic when she hears Marian's voice.
"Cassandra, how dare you ignore me"
Cassie turns round, "Now you know how it feels"
Marian frowns "are you doing this to get back at me?"
Cassie huffs out a laugh "Marian, I don't do anything with you in mind. In fact I don't think about you at all. And today all I'm doing is respecting Jacqueline's wishes"
She watches as the older woman takes in what she's said "You've ruined this whole family"
Cassie takes a steadying breath, holds back the laugh she can feel bubbling at the back of her throat.
"Marian, I think you started to ruin this family long before I came along and then you made it worse when you faked your sons death"
"Is that always going to be thrown in my face?"
Marian looks as if she can't quite believe Cassie is bringing it up. As if it wasn't just a few weeks ago that everything had come out.
"Yes! It's was a disgusting thing to do, and then I find out about Jac's husband and it all makes sense now. You hate losing control of your children, you need to be the one with power"
"Cassandra-"
"But your children are adults, they don't need you interfering"
"You need to watch what you say to me, Sean will-"
"He'll what? Take your side? I doubt he's going to do that after what you put him through, he's seen you for what you are. Why do you think he's keeping his distance from you? it's not because of me"
"It's all because of you"
"It's really not, you done this yourself all those months ago and it was only a matter of time before the truth came out. It didn't end how you thought it would. He loves me and he came looking for me"
"Sean will see you for who you really are" Marian hisses.
Cassie lets out a laugh this time, watches as Marian looks shocked at her outburst.
"And who is that? Because I've never been anything but myself with him, he knows me. You don't know me, you've never took time to get to know me"
Cassie catches the look of frustration on her face, the realisation that she's not getting her way this time.
"If you'd excuse me I should get back to the room" she pushes past her, leaving Marian stood in the middle of the corridor.
Cassie takes a moment outside of Jac's door, taking deep steadying breaths, shook up from her confrontation with Marian, on edge that she's going to be constantly interfering in their lives.
The door opens, Sean appears with a grin that she knows won't leave his face for a while.
"Cass, are you alright?" he asks, holding out his hand, Cassie smiles back at him nodding "Yeah, you're here" she takes his hand heading back into the room.
-
They'd left the hospital once Jac was settled. Sean had finally given Baby Lily back to her mum and agreed to let her sleep.
"You looked like a natural holding her" Cassie reaches across to rest her hand on his thigh as he drives them home.
Sean quickly looks across to her "We're not having babies"
"Oh god no, not at all" Cassie laughs "Couldn't think of anything worse"
Sean squeezes her hand as he laughs "Although you'd look amazing pregnant"
"No I'm not indulging you. Its not happening" she pinches his thigh lightly.
"I know, we both don't want it. I'm allowed to imagine you all knocked up and glowing though" he teases.
"Could have told me about this breeding kink before I fell in love with you" she cackles.
Sean reaches across to squeeze her knee making her squeal as his fingers dig in "fuck off Cass"
She bats his hand away "you fuck off"
"God, I love you" he hums his grin giving him the cute crinkles by his eyes "love you" she smiles.
It was creeping close to late evening by the time they get back, both wide awake, she knew they'd be up for a few hours yet.
The joint they'd had early evening a long forgotten memory, the mellow buzz had been ripped away with work calls, Jacqueline and the birth of baby Lily.
Both of them buzzing with something drugs wouldn't be able to achieve.
Sean stops in his tracks on his way out of the bedroom, he's still not over her being back. She's curled on the sofa laptop in front of her, tapping away at the keypad working on contracts for the company.
Cassie senses him watching her, "What?" She laughs, pushing her laptop away. Sean shrugs "I have something of yours"
Cassie frowns "Huh? What there's loads of my stuff here, I live here"
Sean disappears back into the bedroom, appearing moments later holding out her dressing gown, she squeals uncurling herself from the sofa "Where was it?" She asks as he hands it over.
"Shoved in the back of the wardrobe"
"I tried to buy a new one and I couldn't find one anywhere" she buries her nose in the soft fleece.
Sean snorts out a laugh "I'm not surprised, look at how hideous it is" She throws him a look ignoring his comment, "you kept it?"
Sean grabs her round the waist "Of course I did, it's you it's the only thing I had of you"
Cassie smiles, pulling him down with her onto the sofa, he hovers over her "I love you"
Sean pecks his lips against her nose "I love you" he hums back, pushing his leg between her knees.
She pushes her hands under his T-shirt, his skin warm against her palms. She moves her hands slowly down to the waistband of his sweat shorts, pushing her fingers in.
"Oh, no boxers?" She smirks, Sean takes a shuddered breath as her finger graze across his semi-hard cock.
"Want to be comfortable" he sighs, legs bucking slightly as she curls her fingers round him, she uses her free hand to push his shorts down to his ankles.
Eyes fixed on his cock as it springs free, hitting against the hem of his t-shirt, "what's got you like this" she hums, looking up at him.
"You? I don't know" he laughs stepping from his shorts pushing them across the floor with his foot, "just you being here, it's dangerous"
"Do you need me to move out?" She giggles, slowly moving her hand on his solid length.
"Not at all" he licks his lips, his hand pushing into her hair "Going to suck it or play with it?"
Cassie gives him a look, as he tugs at her hair "I was going to sit on it"
"Fuck sake, Cass" he huffs out a laugh on the back of a deep groan.
"But if you don't want me to then I w-"
Sean lifts her from the sofa before she can finish her sentence. In one quick motion he's pulled her shorts and underwear to the side, fingers pressing between her folds, thumb finding her clit.
She pulls his top up and over his head throwing it in the direction of floor. Bends her head to suck and nip at his chest. His cock pressing into her inner thigh.
The high pitched whine falls from her parted lips as his fingers settle back against her cunt, as she grips onto his shoulder, pushes her hips down to his fingers. Sighing as he slips two into her plush heat.
"Sean" she gasps, head falling back, his fingers stroking against her walls "fuck"
He leans forward pressing his lips against hers, her tongue running across his lips, he opens his mouth letting her tongue roll against his. Fingers still pumping into her.
Her hand slides down his chest, as she rocks herself against his fingers. Sean gets the hint pulling his fingers from her heat, tapping them against her lips.
She sucks them into her mouth, the taste of herself on her tongue. Sean curls his hand around his cock, she opens her mouth so he can pull his fingers out.
Cassie lifts her hips allowing herself room to lower herself down onto his cock, letting the head push between her folds, nudging at her entrance as she presses down.
His mouth falls open as he nestles in her wet warmth, her grip on his shoulders tightens as she adjusts to him filling her completely.
"You alright?" He asks, his voice hoarse.
She nods, "better now"
Sean grins at her, pushing his hand into her curls cupping her face "just needed this huh?"
"Always" she nods, rolling her hips.
Sean pushes his hands under her top, pulling it up as she raises her arms in the air for him to remove it fully. He runs his hands under her breast around the sides, before squeezing them in his palms watching as her lip catches between her teeth.
"Fuck please Sean" she whines, as he pulls at her nipples.
Leaning forward to running his tongue over the hardened buds.
He's trying to concentrate on her body, but the pleasure she's giving him with every gentle move of her hips is pulling his mind elsewhere.
Watching as she bears down on him, her thighs pressing against his, she leans forward to kiss him, peppering kisses across to his ear "love when you watch me" she hums.
Her breath hot against his skin, his hands fall to rest on her hips "Love watching you"
He guides her movements, helping her speed up. "Fuck Cass, that's it baby. Bounce on it"
She's pushing herself up bouncing against his thighs, panting as he lifts his hips to fill her every time she sinks down.
"Take me so well" he praises, her hands planted in his chest "Sean fuck I can't, please"
He smirks, "Need me to take over?"
She nods, her curls bouncing around her face. He lifts her off his lap, laying her back on the sofa removing her shorts and underwear fully off over his shoulder. Positioning himself between her legs, teasing his cock through her folds, before he slides into her.
Sean pushes her legs back bent up and apart as he hammers forward, pushing himself into her, stretching her cunt around his cock.
"Look at you, so fucking beautiful" he sighs, she looks wrecked, cheeks pink, hair sticking to her forehead, mouth open trying to take in much needed air.
"You look handsome all fucked out buried inside me" she teases him, Sean groans, rocking his hips down.
Cassie wraps her legs around his waist, holding him tighter against her "Going to fill me up? I need it" she hums, batting her lashes at him,
He huffs out a laugh, his breath catching in his throat "Yeah? Want to be full of me? All fucked out and full of my cum?"
Cassie nods eagerly, her cunt fluttering around him "Yeah please, fill me up I deserve it" she pouts.
"Oh? You do?"
"Yes, I had a stressful evening" she smirks "I can see how being there while someone else gives birth is stressful"
"So stressful" she pushes her hips up, her pussy contracting around him making his hips stutter.
"Poor baby," he smiles, thrusting into her making her eyes roll back.
Sean pounds into her, her legs dropping from around his waist as she grabs at his shoulders.
"Fuck Cass, fuck fuck" he's panting head dropped forward watching as he pushes back into her cunt, the way she opens up for him just to snap tight around him moments later.
His hips stall as he empties into her with a deep moan, mouth hanging open as he starts to messily roll his hips down into her, "Cum for me Cass" he groans.
She presses her finger to her clit, Sean bats her hand away, replacing it with his own "That's my job" he smirks.
Cassie nods, finally giving into the sensation that burns through her body, her pussy clenching around his spent cock, as she whimpers for him, cries out his name as she cums.
Cassie sits up, Sean is lounging back on the sofa, trying to catch his breath, she looks at him over her shoulder.
"I don't think HR would approve of that during the work day"
Sean laughs, pinching teasingly at her side "You haven't signed a contract yet"
They'd decided Cassie would work for the Wallace Company, mainly on the less legal imports and the construction leases that were a cover for drug storage. As well as keeping his inbox and calendar organised.
Ed and Alex hadn't been overly thrilled, but Sean pulled his owner of the company trump card out and overruled them.
Cassie comes back into the lounge a while later after freshening up, Sean is changed into joggers relaxing on the sofa his laptop in front of him.
He looks up with the biggest grin, she's in the dressing gown her hair piled on her head "I'm home" she giggles, Sean is sure his heart is going to burst with love.
He holds his hands out for her "Come here, look at the state of you" he chuckles.
She joins him on the sofa, leaning to kiss him before she stretches out her legs across his.
"Do you mind?" He gestures towards his laptop
She shakes her head "No, I need to catch up with Birdie anyway" she flashes her phone at him, "Going to tell her I became an auntie today"
Sean grins at her, squeezing her knee, before they settle into their usual comfortable silence.
'Hi Cassandra, it's Floriana. Can we meet?'
'Hi, yes of course! Where would you like to meet?'
'Broomfield Park? There's a cafe there'
'Perfect, I can do tomorrow or Friday afternoon'
'Tomorrow works, please don't bring Sean'
'I won't. 1pm tomorrow?'
'Yes'
Cassie flicks back to her messages with Birdie, she had hoped Floriana would contact her. She wants to try and help Sean solve the mystery of Finn's death or at least get him some more information to help him piece things together.
But, she knew he wouldn't want her to go. She knew exactly how the conversation would go, of course he was only looking out for her but she could handle this one thing.
She'd make an excuse, to be out of the office for the afternoon.
'Hey Bird, how's life with your new roommate? Can I ask a favour?'
'Bonnie he's a pig, living with boys is horrendous how do you do it? Yes, I guess so what is it?'
'Sean is a delightful boy. If I ping you a location tomorrow and we agree a time for me to contact you by would that be something you could do?'
'That's because he's got you under his spell with his dick and god knows what else. You mean if you don't contact me I send your location to the police so they can find your dead body?'
'Oh yeah that sweetens the deal massively! Yeah basically, is that okay?'
'You're unbelievable. I mean I'd rather you didn't go but yes ok I can do that. Do I want to know what you've got yourself into?'
'I'm sure you ignore things Steve does because of his dick…which is gross to type because old man!!! I need to go, I won't tell you yet I'll tell you after'
'He's not that old! Fine whatever. I take it Sean doesn't know?'
'I meannnnn he's pretty old Bird! No he doesn't and it needs to stay that way'
'I'm ignoring you. Ffs Bonnie be careful yeah?'
'Of course. Love you x'
'Love you x'
She decides against telling Birdie about Lily, she didn't have the energy to explain how she could go from hating Jac for months to being there at the birth of her daughter in just a short few weeks.
-
Cassie spots Floriana before she notices her, she's pushing Zeek in a sleek black pushchair. She gives a small wave as she spots Cassie.
"Thanks for coming" Cassie smiles, as Floriana adjusts the pushchair on the far side of the table, Zeek is smiling up at Cassie.
She wiggles her fingers at him making him break out in a cheeky grin.
"He's very cute" she comments, as Floriana takes her seat "I think he looks like Finn, did you know him?"
Cassie shakes her head "No, I met Sean after he passed"
Floriana nods, "you make a striking couple"
Cassie smiles at her, taking a sip of her water "oh thanks, it's still fairly new"
"Well I hope you'll both be very happy for years to come" she smiles.
"Finn loved his sons" she adds, "he was really proud of them"
Cassie nods slowly, "did you know him long?"
"A few years, but we weren't together properly for more than six months"
"So you got pregnant quickly?" She looks up as a waitress comes over, Floriana orders a coffee and a sandwich. Cassie does the same, handing over her card to pay for both.
"I could have got my own"
"It's fine," Cassie dismisses her offer. "But no in answer to your question we were sleeping together for more than a year"
"And he didn't want you to go through with the pregnancy?" Cassie didn't want to push her but she wanted something to take back to Sean.
"No, we argued about it regularly. I refused to terminate our child, my precious Zeek" she rocks the pushchair gently.
Cassie stays silent, letting her talk.
"The night, he was killed he had left after a massive row. Left me begging him to stay with me" she takes a deep breath "and then I found out a week later he was dead"
Cassie's heart tugs, remembering how it felt to be told the man you love had died. At least for her she got Sean back.
"He promised me a future and then it was ripped from me"
She looks down at Zeek, he was happily gurgling to himself.
"Do you think he would have left his wife?" Cassie asks.
"Yes, I do. He had plans he was going to leave the business behind. He'd been putting things in place for a while"
She pauses, picks up her coffee sipping slowly. "The investors knew about his plans, if Sean wants to get answers or revenge he needs to talk to them"
Cassie frowns "do you think they wanted to kill him?"
Floriana shrugs, "they wanted something to happen to him, they weren't pleased he was trying to leave"
"The investors will be hard for him to track, from my limited knowledge there's a lot of them, they helped fund the Wallace Company's illegal imports" she offers Zeek a dummy.
"I do know Asif Afridi is one of their favoured men, he controls most of the criminal network of suppliers"
Cassie nods, "did Finn tell you much about the business?"
"That's all I know, he didn't tell me a lot of things. I done some digging in the week between him storming out and his death, he had left his second laptop at my flat" she gives Cassie a smile, "I'm sorry I can't help more"
Cassie jumps slightly as Zeek lets out a high pitched squeal, Floriana laughes "he likes you" she hums.
Cassie watches him, his chubby arms reaching for her "Can I?" She asks. Floriana nods with a smile, "of course"
She unbuckles him, gently lifts him out. His hands grabbing at her as he giggles "Hi Zeek, I'm Cassie" she coos bouncing him slightly as the waitress brings their food.
Floriana makes a move to take him off her so she can eat "no it's fine you eat first" Cassie smiles.
Floriana looks grateful as she digs into her lunch. "Sean isn't as rude as he came across the other day"
"I gathered he was in a bit of shock" Floriana laughs, "yes, and he hasn't dealt well with the death of his father"
"I am always open for him and his siblings to know Zeek" she offers as Cassie strokes her hand over the back of the babies head "I'll tell him, he's very stubborn so I apologise"
Floriana waves her concerns away, "we all handle things differently, but I was honest when I said I have no answers"
Cassie smiles at her picking at the salad on her plate "but please tell him to look into the investors and Asif" Floriana adds.
"Here, I've had half let's swap you eat and I'll occupy the little monster"
Cassie hands Zeek over as her phone buzzes, she apologises turning it over.
'Claire said you had to pop out all ok?? xx'
'Yes! Couldn't find you, had to go sort something for Birdie. love you x'
'Love you x'
"Did you know about the yacht, Finn purchased?" She asks, Floriana blushes slightly.
"Yes, it was his insurance for our new life, if everything went to shit we'd have money"
Cassie nods that made sense, she knew Marian would have given him hell for trying to leave. Would have killed Finn herself if she knew about a child.
They settle into general chatter, finishing up their lunch taking turns with Zeek.
Parting at the station. Cassie tells her to reach out if she ever needs anything, Floriana thanks her as they hug goodbye, Zeek waving his hands at Cassie as she disappears down the steps of the underground.
-
Sean is waiting for her outside the station just down the road from the flat, engine running. Sunglasses on as scrolls his phone, cigarette between the fingers of his free hand hanging out of the window.
“Taxi for Cassie?” she teases, stealing the smoke from between his fingers, trotting round to the passenger side.
“You can’t smoke in here love,” he grins, leaning across to kiss her.
“What’s this pick up for?….”
"I thought that's why you text me you were only ten minutes away" he smirks, taking the end of the cigarette back flicking it out of his open window.
"Oh no just wanted you to know, but I won't turn this down"
"Was everything ok?" He asks, pulling out onto the main road.
"Yeah…Birdie just needed a couple of bits sent over to Stanton and Ash wanted something from a shop in Covent Garden"
He nods, stopping in a queue of traffic "Right..are you going to tell me why you were on the other side of London, near Floriana instead then, Cass?"
Reblogs, comments & likes are always appreciated - if you feel the need come scream at me ✨
@peakyscillian Cassie is really becoming part of the family now, working with Sean and attending Lily's birth!! And I LOVE the fact that Marian is getting her comeuppance! However, danger is always lurking. I have a v bad feeling about the Floriana business. I can't wait to see what Sean will have to say about Cassie meeting her on her own!
The Shelby patriarch left often and came back sporadically. But this time, dragged behind him, was a boy of five, red haired with honey brown eyes and threw him in the room with a stranger he told was his brother. Same age, same height but with Shelby blue eyes instead of brown and they thought they didn't look much alike at all.
Vincent 'vinnie' Young was no Shelby. Despite his name change. Despite sharing a father he was no Shelby. "Too smart for his own good just like his mother" dismissed their father "fuck load of good it did her" too outspoken, too quick to dodge a slap and spend days alone in the woods until one of his brothers found him and dragged him home.
And too soft hearted. His brothers too old and too busy to deal with another kid brother, his sister already a woman and out the house and Finn tried. They were inseparable for a few years, more out of necessity than loyalty. Birthdays only a few months apart, people who didn't know them assumed non identical twins but those that did looked at Vinnie with a look that leaves a stain that never washes away.
But people out grow eachother. Finn had his friends and Vinnie had his books. He tried. Followed Finn through mischief and ran from the police more than once but they both knew Vinnie didn't enjoy it and Finn didn't want him there. Too eager to follow the Shelby path Vinnie was left behind. Or did he step away? Took the long way home, past the library and past the river to spend time just to himself. Vincent Young. Not Shelby. His mother's name the only thing he had left and he wasn't going to forget her even if everyone else did.
"Thinks he's too good for this house" Vinnie made a promise to himself that he would get out. Before he was too old and bitter like his father and too sad like his mother. Not through the military like his brothers, not on a downward spiral like Finn desperate to prove himself. He swore he would leave this cursed town when his father burned his library books. When no one at school asked about a black eye and a split lip. When Finn opened his mouth but stayed quiet and turned away just as fast when called by one of his friends.
He spends more nights out the house than in. Between the delicate glow of fireflies in the endless dark of the woods and the humming lights of the bus station just out of town Vinnie dreamt of running away. Day dreams of one way tickets or of cool river water; both a sirens echo in the night when he can't sleep.
Vincent "vinnie" Young was not a Shelby but the curse that swallowed his family lived within him anyway. He felt it whenever an adult sneered and whispered about him like he wasn't there. A constant weight on his back that dragged him down. Humid days haunted by the thoughts of cold water and nights lit up by neon street lights he often wondered how this would end. Tragedy seemed inevitable and those bus tickets too expensive.
Either way he had to get out soon, while he was still young before the Shelby curse claimed him too.
something for @zablife american teenager au, lee you already know im a fan of this au and couldn't resist, im not familiar with Ethel Cain's music (but i did listen while writing this) but what i do know is bruce springsteen and vinnie needs to get out while hes young because tramps like him, baby, they were born to run.
@the-makingsofgreatness OMG, EM!! This is incredible! I can't believe how quickly you created something so beautiful and devastating. Ty for lending your talent to the series 💕
I'm obsessed with the evocative moodboard. It recalls the pain of nostalgia, expertly juxtaposing the boys' innocent play with the effects of their trauma. I love the way the images are faded like old photos one finds in a shoebox. Btw the image of the boy climbing in the car window is such a great callback to the show when Finn pretends to be Tommy!
My heart aches for Vinnie. I get Matilda vibes from him with the ref to his love of reading and how his father ridicules him for it (when Arthur Sr. burns the library books 🤬). And yet, he retains a gentleness that is admirable. Seriously, can we swap him for Finn? Vinnie's a much more interesting character 🤭
However, there's something genius about having brothers close in age to act as a foil for one another. I can't recall if you originally intended Vinnie to be Arthur Sr.'s illegitimate son, but you described the shame of it perfectly in these poetic lines: "Birthdays only a few months apart, people who didn't know them assumed non identical twins but those that did looked at Vinnie with a look that leaves a stain that never washes away."
I was a blubbering mess after reading: "His mother's name the only thing he had left and he wasn't going to forget her even if everyone else did." Considering the way Vinnie suddenly comes to live with the Shelbys, I can't help but wonder how his mother met her end. I'm thinking suicide by drowning based on this haunting line: "Humid days haunted by the thoughts of cold water..." Stay strong, Vinnie! You're going to get out of there! (Pls tell me he gets out 🙏🏼)
Ty you again for sharing your OC! Someone recently mentioned May for the next character study and after reading this, I'm thinking she could be Vinnie's ticket out. Could you see her as a teacher who helps him get a scholarship to university? Is this something 🤔
A/N: Ada and Irene are best friends and maybe something more? Part of my American Teenager AU.
Irene sat quietly at the Robinson's kitchen table, feeling disconnected from her body as her mother explained Ada Shelby wouldn't be returning to finish out her senior year. Irene began to shake as the rush of blood through her ears muffled the words that came next. Glancing down at the xo tattoo on her wrist, her mind wandered to happier times when she and Ada sat side by side getting inked. She wished she could live there forever.
The unlikely friendship of a sarcastic, irreverent brunette and a soft spoken, artistic blonde came to be the year before when they struck up a conversation about music during Study Hall. Their debates about the best bands of all time led to hours spent making compilations of their fave songs to share with each other. Ada's CDs were often untitled except for a cheeky message like "Trust me" scrawled across the front in smudged marker. Irene's were decorated with hand drawn designs and a track list with notes to evidence the thoughtful process behind her choices.
By the time the weather turned cold, they were spending every afternoon together in the warmth of the Robinson's shed, the frayed wire of Irene's earbuds dangling between them. And when Ada suggested they smoke weed to enhance the experience, Irene didn't object. In fact, she silently reveled in the closeness each time Ada would shotgun smoke into her open mouth.
It was around this time she began to wonder if her friend might sense her infatuation as their lips brushed in the haze of smoke or savored the taste of the cherry lollipop passed between them. A kiss seemed inevitable six months ago, but now she learned Ada was pregnant? As Irene drifted back to the present, she found her cheeks wet with tears. They continued to flow until the day Ada left town with her boyfriend.
“Freddie loves me,” Ada explained apologetically as she shoved her suitcase into the back of Freddie’s car.
Irene tugged on her friend’s arm as she climbed into the passenger’s seat. "Don't leave me," she begged, unable to let go when something lay broken between them. But Ada couldn’t bring herself to look Irene in the eye.
“She might be your girl now, but she was my girl first,” Irene mumbled, as Freddie drove away, unsure how she’d been left behind.
My poor Irene that was born to suffer!! I love her, your honour. And on another hand, I love bisexual!Ada that girl isn't straight not even in canon 🤭.
I love the moments you described! 😭. The girls being together, enjoying their time, Ada being Ada and Irene as sweet as ever 🥺. The little touches... Them smoking weed and then the kiss. Of course Irene is completely in love with her.
Goddddd!! I love them so much!! 🤧.
I can't help but feel that Mrs. Robinson is happy and Ada isn't there anymore near her daughter and also is judging her for being pregnant before getting married, she's that kind of person.
Oh Freddie, I like you but get off man!! 😒 "She was my girl first" oh, my poor girl 😭
@justrainandcoffee I'm hearing that phrase a lot in ref to these blurbs 🙈 Just know that I'm breaking my own heart as I write every one. You're so right that poor, sweet Irene was born to suffer 😞 And I'm so glad you mentioned Mrs. Robinson's thoughts on Ada's pregnancy bc I was thinking the same! As for Freddie, I'm loving the idea of making him *ahem* disappear so our girls can reunite. Juli mentioned a song rec, "Goodbye Earl." A woman helps her bf kill her husband and then they live together, running a roadside stand that sells fresh fruit. Sounds good to me!
A/N: Esme and John find each other in the American Teenager AU.
The summer before John turned eighteen, Esme Lee came to town, but not by choice. She'd been expelled from school for truancy and her parents watched helplessly as she continued to destroy any hope for her future. “To love you is to suffer you, darlin'," her daddy sighed wearily every time the cops brought her home. Eventually, the Lees decided to send her away from their five other children, afraid her rebellious spirit was catching.
Uncle Johnny was one of the few relatives willing to take her. Folks called him "Johnny Dogs" on account of the hounds he raised for deer hunting. A gregarious bullshit artist, he also worked as a handyman despite being woefully under qualified for most of the jobs he undertook. He was an odd bird, but because of that he understood Esme's nature and didn't fault her for it. In fact, he encouraged her curiosity, teaching her to work on cars and how to disarm traps to rescue injured animals. When she began talking about finding work in a veterinary clinic, he thought her restlessness might be cured. But that was before she met John Shelby.
It was two months after she moved to town when John caught sight of her, a wild thing who ran barefoot, fingertips stained with the juice of fresh blackberries. He followed her to a swimming hole and they talked for hours before he laid her down where the trees bent low. After that, they were inseparable, John preferring to keep her as close as possible. "Always tuggin on me like you're runnin out of daylight," Esme would joke, unaware of how prophetic those words would become.
By the time John graduated high school, she learned that she could lead him to bed, but she couldn't make him sleep. John was receiving letters from his brother Tommy every week, urging him to enlist like him and their older brother Arthur. Despite knowing he was going to be a father, he gave in to the pressure of Tommy's demands, the thought of letting his brothers down more than he could bare.
"Don't worry, Ez," he told his girlfriend, stroking his hand up and down her back as she cried.
"You tell me all the time not to worry, but what happens when I wake up on my own?"
"Think of all the time we'll have when I get back," he whispered, but the gentleness of his voice did little to quiet the reverberation of sobs. Somehow she knew then she'd be alone for the birth and all the years afterward, only a J inked on her hip and a shotgun on the porch as reminders of him. It hurt like greenery that stings long after contact.
Ohhh this hurt. 😭 I loved that Johnny Dogs took her in, and I adore that she and John still were together for a time in this AU even if he died at war. I can't handle this Riverboat Romeo and Juliet 😭😭😭
@murderousginger It hurt me to write it so I understand! Can't believe I forgot my rule that John should be allowed to live in every AU. But it was the most tragic ending by far and well suited to this world where everything is so bleak. Thanks for reading and leaving your thoughts, darl! (And sorry for breaking your heart)
