Drunk Shakespeare
Drunk Shakespeare
Summary: It’s Summer 1925 in the Little Lady Blinderverse. Isiah and Clara decide to end their work day early to escape the heat of the betting shop, but find the heat in the air between them is harder to escape than they thought.
Characters: Clara Shelby x Isiah Jesus, Finn Shelby pops in for a moment.
Prompt: Almost caught
Content Warnings: Just vibes and a little kissing.
Tell me what y'all think! Reviews and comments are always appreciated. 😌❤️
Peaky Blinders (Little Lady Blinder) Masterlist
Peaky Blinders (Non-Shelby!Sister) Masterlist
Clara watched the long hand of her brother's old pocket watch as it moved around the clock face, the quiet ticks and tocks seeming to mock her as they seemed to slow and delay in her mind.
After what had seemed like an eternity squashed into a mere morning and early afternoon, she was basically caught up on the books. Or at least, if she wasn't precisely caught up, Clara wasn't feeling particularly motivated to keep working on them. Not that she'd been doing anything that could really be considered ‘work’ for the last hour and a half.
Shoving the pocketwatch away, she glanced at Isiah. He was across the room in Finn’s office, twirling a pencil in his fingers. Clara wasn't sure what he was meant to be ‘working’ on in her brother's office, but she assumed pencil twirling wasn't it.
It had been a slow afternoon. No one had been keen on laying bets or working, so the shop had emptied early. Everyone had finished up their day's work and gone home.
In this heat, Clara didn't blame them. Despite the mound of work she had to complete for her brother, she didn't want to be here either.
Clara had already shed her sweater. She couldn't respectably lose any more layers or she'd be left in just her slip, but she longed for it. She longed for a breeze or dip in one of the ponds on the grounds of Arrow House. She longed for a chunk of ice from the ice box in the kitchen. She longed for the end of this Friday afternoon, the end to this stale, sticky existence.
Clara pushed herself back from the desk—Tommy's desk, though he never used it anymore. The chair was more hers than his these days. Tommy had once said it could be Clara’s one day—the boss's chair—but even though it was her who sat in it more than him, Clara wasn't the boss. Today, she felt no better than any other working person staring at the clock and waiting for the end of their shift. It seemed that was all she’d done all day.
She'd have to come back and finish what she hadn’t accomplished before the end of the month—over the weekend or early before she was due at the Jamaica Row office on Monday morning. It wasn't smart putting it off, but Clara didn't care. The heat had zapped any sense of caring from her system, leeching all of the diligent conscientiousness she was known for straight out of her.
"What are the odds we get caught out if we lock up early?”
Isiah's foot fell off the desk and slammed against the floor, Clara's sudden presence in the room startling him more than it should have considering a wall of windows lined the office and he’d faced that way, his glossy gaze set out toward the empty shop she crossed over on her way to get to him.
"Christ, Clara—Trying to stop my fucking heart, eh?"
Clara sighed, rolling her eyes at Isiah’s dramatics out of nothing more than habit. The whole bit was familiar. He usually would have wrapped her head in an arm, ruffling her hair as retribution, but today he barely moved, barely even allowed the muscles of his mouth to pull into a smirk.
Clara was glad for it because if Isiah laid a hand on her, Clara thought she might scream. The idea of him coming anywhere near her in this heat, of his warm hand in her already frizzy hair…she felt warmer just thinking about it.
"The only thing I'm trying to do is stop working."
"You're finished?”
Clara shrugged. She didn't have it in her to lie, but she didn’t quite want to admit she’d been doing close to nothing all day either. "Are you?'
"I've been done for hours."
"What are you sitting in here for, then?"
She could see that she wasn't the only warm one. Isiah had rolled his shirt sleeves. Sweat beaded on his forehead as he looked at her with a raised eyebrow. She couldn't imagine why he'd choose to sit here when he could be anywhere else.
Isiah raised an eyebrow. "What do you think?"
"Fucking hell. You’re babysitting. Tommy's such a—"
“Finn," Isiah interrupted.
"What?"
"It was Finn’s idea. Said 'I've got a meeting across town. Keep an eye on her.’ Not Tom."
Clara hummed, filing that annoying development away to complain about later. For today it was an order from Finn’s mouth, but before Finn, it had been John, and before that, she knew the order had originated with Tommy and Arthur. Tommy, who Isiah no routinely called 'Tom' and defended, as if they were friends. On the same side of things. Clara let the thought go, too hot for the annoyance that came with thinking too hard on her brothers.
"Where'd Finn go, anyway?'
"Meeting across town," Isiah answered, repeating the words with a smirk.
Clara breathed deeply, stifling the urge to hit him. She could imagine herself doing it, the satisfaction of her open palm—all clammy and swollen with the heavy moisture of the air—smacking against Isiah’s stupid, sweaty forehead.
“I just said.” Isiah added, stupid grin still on his face. “The heat getting to you, there, Miss Shelby?”
It was hotter in Finn's office than it was in Tommy's. There were no windows to the outside here, no airflow. Clara pulled at her dress, the fabric sticking to her collarbone as she tried to catch some relief.
“I meant who’s he with?”
Isiah shrugged. “Afraid that's above my pay grade. Can’t be asking after the boss’s whereabouts now, can I, love?”
Clara rolled her eyes. Finn wasn’t any sort of boss, not really, even if he was acting like it lately. And the amount of things that fell above Isiah's pay grade had dwindled over the last few years. She was nearly certain Isiah knew exactly who Finn was meeting with and what it was about, but she let it go, figuring that if it was important or relevant to her, he'd have just told her. The fact that he was playing with her told her it wasn't either of those things.
“Fine. Tell me, love, does the 'boss' have anything good in that drawer there?” Clara nodded toward the desk and Isiah shook his head, chuckling.
“What are you shaking your head for? What’s he going to do?” she asked. “Fire us for borrowing his whiskey and skiving off?”
“Tom—”
“I don’t care what Tommy or Arthur or John or Finn has said. It’s hot and there’s no reason for us to be cooped up here. I’ll take my chances with the lot of them.” Clara reached down, pulling out the bottle of whiskey. She opened it and took a slug before she handed the bottle to Isiah. After he drank, Clara held a hand out to him.
He raised an eyebrow, glancing at the hand they both knew was clammy and damp with sweat. Clara ran her hand down the side of her dress before presenting it again.
Isiah rolled his eyes as he slipped his hand into hers and Clara groaned, dropping his slicked hand in an instant. Isiah smirked as he ran his hand down the side of her skirts same as Clara had just done. No other man would’ve dared to slide his hand down Clara Shelby’s side like that, but this was Isiah and they were alone in the shop—no prying eyes to watch over them for a change.
“You’re insufferable.”
Isiah chuckled. “You’ve said so plenty enough.”
“Because it’s true.”
“Well, between you and me, it’s mutual.”
Clara yanked his hand then, pulling him out of the chair and to his feet. Isiah stumbled for her benefit.
“You’re testy today.”
“I’m hot,” Clara answered, walking towards the staircase. She tugged Isiah along up the first few steps, her arm straining as Isiah stopped on the third step from the bottom.
“And we’re going to the second floor to cool off?”
Clara took a deep breath before stopping and turning back to Isiah.
“We’re all locked up?”
Isiah nodded. He'd gone around to check all of the doors after Finn headed out. “Have been for hours.”
“Good, now shut up and do what you're told.”
Isiah snorted. “Yes, ma’am.”
Clara smirked at that. At least someone respected her. Even if it was just Isiah, and even if he was only playing, the telltale smile tugging at his lips, a bit of glee right there dancing in his eyes. Because even with those things present, Clara knew some part of it was genuine. Isiah respected her more than most people in her life. Believed in her more than most, too. And he had always offered up a bit of his power in the context of their relationship, allowing her to win on most things.
Not every single thing, but most.
Enough of the time that Clara knew when he was doing it.
As they moved up the stairs, the heat wrapped around them like a blanket. Someone had shut all of the windows, the air up there even more stale than it had been down in the shop.
Clara had a moment of doubt while the stifling heat grew, smothering them both and challenging Clara's breathing. Sweat collected on her back and chest under her clothes. She cursed in her head that maybe Isiah was right. Maybe there was no relief to be found on this Friday afternoon, not unless she wanted to give in and head out to her brother's house.
But Clara didn’t want to. If she did, Tommy would have questions about the books and whether or not she’d caught up yet. She didn’t have it in her to try to lie to him. If she was being honest, she didn’t have it in her for much of anything except simply being.
Walking the stairs of her childhood home with Isiah’s hand growing sweaty in hers, Clara was reminded of simpler days. Of times when she’d been just allowed to be. Even then, she’d been an anxious child. Overwhelmed and feeling like she was pulled in a million different ways, but looking back on it now, Clara was nostalgic for a certain freedom inherent to childhood. A certain freedom that came with not fully understanding the actions and motivations of the adults surrounding her.
She had always sought to understand, had always wanted to be a part of things, and now that she was—now that she and Isiah both were thoroughly integrated parts of the things they’d once begged to be included in—Clara would give anything for the two of them to go back to before.
To be reading together from a book, or pretending to be Sherlock Holmes and Doctor Watson. To be just two kids in their own little bubble, just the two of them against the world. It was a lovely thought, accompanied by a lovely feeling of nostalgia and as they stepped onto the second floor—just the two of them there within the walls of number 6 Watery Lane—Clara thought maybe it could still be the case.
The times were less frequent these days, but there were still moments when Clara would catch Isiah's gaze across the room, the two of them immediately caught up in some secret conversation that no one else even knew was taking place.
And sometimes, the two of them would dance, and as Isiah spun Clara around, she could’ve sworn there was no one else in the world. On those occasions, it was as if the music played of its own accord, no one needed to pull the strings or croon the melodies, the two of them feeling anonymous and alone even though they were surrounded by other couples.
“Come on, Siah,” Clara said as she tugged Isiah’s hand, some part of her certain that she could reach out and grasp that feeling, as if it was something she could trap and hold onto, keeping it close to her heart.
Isiah smiled at Clara’s impatience, his body so near to hers that he could feel the heat radiating off her back, a warmth separate from that of the air around them, almost pulsing between them.
Clara dropped his hand as she stepped into her bedroom, still neat and tidy and kept as if the 12-year-old girl she once was still lived there. As she moved toward the window, Clara pressed the whiskey bottle into Isiah’s hand, not bothering to look back to confirm it was within his grasp before she let go.
Isiah leaned against her dresser, watching as she struggled with the window, the wooden frame stiff and swollen and thoroughly stuck from the heat and years of disuse.
As he watched, Isiah wondered...when was the last time Clara Shelby had climbed out through her bedroom window? When was the last time Isiah Jesus had climbed out with her?
Neither of them could remember, and it seemed like the room had forgotten as well, the window remaining belligerently shut even as Clara dug in her heels and leveraged all of her strength in trying to raise the pane, a new layer of sweat gleaming at her hairline as she struggled.
“Alright,” Isiah started as he eased off the dresser, the whiskey bottle set aside. “Let me—”
“No!” Clara answered, her voice booming with the strength of her struggle as she kicked a leg out in Isiah’s general direction to keep him back. “I’ll get it. You choose a book.”
Clara sent her foot out again, this time directing it toward the other side of the room, and Isiah turned to follow the direction of her kick, straight to the chair beside her bed where a stack of books sat piled dangerously high.
The pile was a mix of old and new, a selection of books from her childhood and few of her more recent favorites interspersed with a few of the books Isiah remembered as coming from Tommy’s shelf. Those books had once been forbidden to Clara, but Isiah supposed they were far beyond forbidden books at this stage. And Tommy Shelby had far bigger concerns than what types of books his sister was reading.
Isiah fished a book out of the pile before returning his attention to Clara. He was about to sit down on her bed to watch the show of her struggle when the window flew open, the sudden movement accompanied by a rush of air and a celebratory shout from Clara.
“I told you I would get it,” she said, wiping the sweat from her brow as she turned to him.
Isiah rolled his eyes fondly and crossed the room to grab the whiskey, a swallowed comment on the tip of his tongue because even though Isiah and Clara usually passed quips back and forth, he was more interested in getting out on the roof, more interested in the reprieve of fresh air. Isiah pressed the book and bottle into Clara's hands before swinging himself out through the window.
Isiah was through in a small span of seconds, but it was certainly a more difficult maneuver than he remembered now that his body was all long limbs and the window seemed infinitely smaller than it once was.
Reaching back through the frame, he took the book and the bottle Clara handed off. Isiah set them both aside before holding his hand out back through the open window.
“I can—”
“Just let me help, won’t you?” Isiah interrupted. He wiped his hand down the front of his pants before holding it out again. “Gotta fight me about everything.”
“I’m not—” Clara grasped his hand, allowing Isiah to tug her through, and letting go once she was steady on her feet. “—fighting. I just—”
“Can do it yourself,” Isiah answered. “I know. Doesn’t mean you should always have to.”
Clara huffed even though a part of her appreciated the sentiment. She tried to be independent. She tried to do everything for herself. She tried to prove how smart and strong and capable she was to just about everyone, but she didn’t have to prove any of that to Isiah.
Clara unbuttoned the top of her dress, gently fanning herself with the loose fabric as she looked over the courtyard. She took a deep breath, grateful for the grey and cloudy Birmingham skies that shielded them from the heady rays of sun she usually craved.
The roof outside of her bedroom wasn’t exactly the reprieve she had imagined, but it was marginally better than the dense staleness of the shop and her bedroom.
“Romeo and Juliet?” Clara asked as she lowered herself to the roof and reached for the book. “Really, Isiah?”
While Clara enjoyed her Shakespeare, the play hadn’t exactly been her favorite, and her memories of the piece were tainted by the fact that she’d first read it at school, with Juliet’s role going to a girl she wasn’t particularly fond of. Clara would’ve preferred to revisit Sherlock Holmes or one of Tommy’s old books.
Isiah shrugged and sat down beside her, reaching for the bottle. “Reminded me of when you tried stepping out with that Italian kid.”
He said it as if he didn’t remember the name of the ‘Italian kid.' As if it had been nothing but a blip. As if her social connections hadn’t gotten her into nothing but trouble that year and been the source of arguments between her and her family, and her and Isiah.
Clara shoved Isiah’s shoulder.
“I wasn’t stepping out with anyone.”
It had been a friendship. Maybe with a hint of a crush, but there had been no stepping out. Nothing close. Her brothers' reputation had seen to that.
“And anyway, it’s more like when you were stepping out with that Cheapie girl.”
Isiah raised an eyebrow. “What are you on about?”
“Ruth,” Clara answered. “Practically Wally Bartow in a dress.”
He snorted. “It was one dance, Clara. Didn’t even know her name. Had no clue she was a Bartow.”
Clara shrugged. “You looked awfully cozy if I remember properly.”
“Well, that’s just how I dance, love.” Isiah winked at her before taking a swig from the bottle. “You know that better than anyone.
“And I'm sorry to inform you, but if either of us is destined to have a love life like these two—” Isiah nodded towards the book. “—it’s you. No matter who you end up with, it’ll be like Montagues and Capulets. Shelbys against whatever poor sap you choose.”
Isiah knocked her shoulder, the touch telling her it was only a joke. Clara stayed leaning against him as long as she could manage in the heat before prying the bottle from his fingers to take a sip.
“Ada says us Shelby girls are cursed that way.”
Isiah reached for the book, thumbing through the pages rather than answering. He had an idea about that particular curse. He had been old enough to remember how Ada’s marriage had been handled, and even if he hadn’t been, Isiah knew how Clara was being managed.
How they both had been managed for years now.
Isiah reached out for the bottle, taking another swig before he started reading.
“Two households, both alike in dignity, In fair Verona, where we lay our scene…”
They passed a few hours reading and talking and sipping from the bottle, the pair moving on to gentle conversation interspersed with quotes from Shakespeare’s catalog once the pages became too difficult to read in the dimming light. Lost in the throes of conversation, easy laughter and the cooling night breeze, Isiah and Clara were suspended in what felt like a world that was just their own, their sense of time and place and awareness pushed aside.
Clara was giggling at some obscure quote Isiah had pulled seemingly out of nowhere when Isiah sensed suddenly that the world was no longer theirs alone, his attention gone to the far end of the shared courtyard, a familiar chorus of boisterous laughter reaching his ear from across the space.
Isiah was faintly aware of Clara naming the play he’d quoted before she shared her next quote, a gentle laughter lacing her words as she spoke, but the awareness of his heart pounding against his chest was stronger, a sudden urge to quiet her—to shield their presence there on the roof—taking over.
Overcome with that urge, Isiah could’ve shushed her or set his hand over her mouth to stifle the words.
Or he could've taken a breath and calmed himself and simply let her finish.
It wasn't as if they were doing anything wrong. There was no reason to hide.
Isiah could have let Clara tell him, ‘I do desire we may be better strangers,’ before dissolving into giggles. He could’ve then told her the quote was from ‘As You Like It,’ a quote which he was intimately familiar with because Clara had directed it at him and Finn a number of times before, sometimes in jest, sometimes because she wished to hurt them.
No one would question Isiah and Clara being out on the roof with a book and a bottle of whiskey, least of all Finn. People were plenty used to their antics, but something felt different tonight so Isiah only let Clara get half a sentence out before he placed his hand at the back of her head, drawing her in close and pressing his lips to hers in the dark, catching her words and quieting her so efficiently that it was nearly silent on the roof as Finn and the junior Peaky Boys passed over the back threshold of no. 6.
The kiss only lasted a few seconds, but Isiah felt Clara’s whole body relax within his touch. She leaned into the hand he cradled behind her head, allowing him to deepen the kiss he hadn’t intended on giving in the first place, her hands reaching out for him, her fingernails grazing his scalp in a way that sent shivers down his spine.
Isiah pulled away, but even so, for a moment, he forgot where he was. He forgot why he’d kissed her, or at least he’d forgotten whatever justification he’d initially provided himself for pressing his lips to hers. He forgot about Finn and the boys. He forgot about Shakespeare and feuds and consequences. With his warm hand still on the back of Clara’s sweaty neck, barely able to see the details of her now flushed face, it was once again just the two of them there in the world.
With their faces still so close that Clara could feel Isiah’s warm whiskey-tinged breath on her face, her eyes shifted to his lips. She couldn’t remember what they were talking about before. She didn’t know why he’d kissed her. She had heard the back door slam, some part of her aware of her twin's proximity, an awareness Aunt Polly had always tol her was part of her gifts, but as Clara pulled Isiah's lips back to hers, she found she didn’t care to remember there was more to the world than the two of them and this.
She didn’t want to question it, and yet, Clara was first to pull away this time, her ears far more sensitive to the familiar sound of someone turning the handle of her childhood bedroom’s door than Isiah was. With a sudden swiftness, she removed herself from Isiah’s hold and pushed him back against the roof as she extended her hand up to the sky.
“There you are,” Finn said, sticking his head out the open window to see what Clara was pointing at. "What are the two of you out here for?"
Clara tilted her head back to her brother. “Constellations and Shakespeare. Would you like to join us?” she asked, the words feeling odd to her as they passed through her swollen lips.
“No,” Finn snorted. “It's payday. We’re heading to the Garrison, and then maybe to a few other—”
“No, thank you. I'm staying here,” Clara answered, even though it wasn’t exactly an invite Finn had extended, but more of a declaration. An order.
A flash of something passed over Finn’s face. Clara could barely see it in the dark, but she figured it was a bit of annoyance, maybe, or a touch of shock at being refused. It seemed like more and more, Finn was coming to expect the same sort of compliance from Clara that the others did, forgetting that it was mere minutes that separated their births rather than years.
“It’s too hot, Finn,” Clara added, her tone a bit softer. “I have no desire to be holed up in the snug, squashed between you lot.”
“Alright, then. Isiah?” Finn tried.
“She’s got a point, mate.”
Clara heard someone shouting from the floor below, the details muffled by the shut door, but Finn seemed to recognize their meaning well enough.
"Are you sure?" Clara sensed the question was for Isiah even though they could barely see each other's faces in the growing dark. "Drinks are on Shelby Company Ltd. tonight," Finn added, as if Isiah's drinks weren't usually on the house, anyway.
"It's alright. You go ahead with the boys," Isiah offered. "I'll keep an eye on Clara."
Clara's elbow twitched, the desire to ram it into Isiah's ribcage surging as she caught the hint of a smirk on Isiah's face, but Clara stopped herself knowing that it had been the right thing to say.
Finn nodded his understanding in the dark, his attention pulled to the stairs once again by a sudden noise.
"Don't fall asleep out there, Clara."
Clara heaved a breath to stop herself from telling him he had no business telling her where she could or couldn't fall asleep, but Isiah beat her to it, telling Finn he would handle it.
No matter that Finn would likely be the one who needed assistance finding his bed before the night was through...
"Have a good night," Finn said as he stepped away from the window, leaving Isiah and Clara alone. They leaned back against the roof, the two of them staring at the sky in silence as they listened to the sounds of Finn and the boys heading out through the back door, their shouting and laughter echoing as they traversed the shared courtyard.
When the echoes died away, Clara stretched out her fingers, seeking the familiar roughness of Isiah’s palm.
“That was bad,” Isiah said, his fingers closing around hers. “Close...we almost got caught.”
Clara heaved a breath before turning to face him. “There is nothing either good or bad, but thinking makes it so.”
Isiah snorted. He glanced briefly to his right to meet Clara's gaze in the dark before tipping his head back to the sky.
"Hamlet," Isiah answered softly, squeezing her hand gently before releasing her fingers.
They had been through this time and time again, the two of them dancing around the label of what they were. Friends. Best friends. Something more. They had settled on friends as far as most of the world was concerned, but that didn’t mean the lines weren’t still blurry at times, their belligerent feelings tangled and confused and persistent. For years now, they had maintained a mostly unspoken agreement that they’d keep anything beyond friendship hidden—from themselves, from one another, from everyone else.
Most especially from everyone else.
They'd learned early on that it wasn't worth the strife. It wasn't worth the fight. Any resistance had been squashed down time and again. Somehow, this felt easier. Less painful.
If it was up to the two of them, perhaps things would be different. Perhaps they’d have tried at love and failed, and moved on by now. Or perhaps they would have tried and it would have been easy. Smooth.
Perhaps there would be no confusion or jealousy or hiding. No dismissing their closeness as nothing more than echo of a childhood friendship, no stinging comments on who the other had stepped out with—the slights used both as a weapon and a protection to guard their tender hearts.
But as it was, Clara and Isiah had never been given a proper chance at something more. A boundary had been set for them at the outset, a series of orders they’d both been too young to fight at the time. They’d been at the mercy of the powers that be, and even though they were older now, they were still at the mercy of that power.
Or maybe they still danced around the boundary because it felt easier, somehow safer for them both to keep that prescribed distance between them.
“Perhaps I am destined for tragedy, Isiah.” Clara mused. “Or simply to be alone. Unloved for eternity.”
“You’re not alone, love.” Isiah reached for the hand he’d dropped only moments before. “I’m right here.”
“And you know I love you," he added as Clara curled toward him, resting her head against his chest.
Clara sighed and nodded.
“I love you, too,” she added, and Isiah’s chest fell with the breath he’d been holding.
“Can we not just pretend that’s enough?” Clara asked. “Just for tonight?”
They were dangerous questions and Clara asked them without turning to observe Isiah’s face. She could feel the tenseness of his body beneath her, the fear her questions provoked.
“Like it’s just us in the world and no one else?” she tried, a question and a wish because the house was empty and the roof was dark and it was unlikely they’d be caught.
Isiah feared that a little, but more than he feared getting caught—for they’d successfully explained away so much over the years and he had no doubt they could manage it again—Isiah feared the two of them getting caught up in things. He feared getting caught up in the true feelings between them, the ones they’d so carefully worked to keep a hold on all of these years, a carefully manicured relationship that allowed them to be close, but not so close that they fell over the edge.
For even though Isiah dated other girls, and even though Clara insisted that Isiah Jesus was just a friend, they both knew there was something more between them. A magnetic pull, something in their hearts that they both knew to be true love.
In the moments when the two of them could be honest with each other, when the rest of the world fell away...on nights like tonight, it wasn’t especially unusual for their lips to meet. It wasn’t unusual for Clara’s hopelessly romantic naïveté to make a showing. For some part of her to feel that it could be easy. That it could work.
And it wasn’t unusual for Isiah to agree. For every part of him to want the very thing they spent the bulk of their days denying and shutting down.
They were both craving it now though, both barely able to remember why they ever did hold back. It was just the two of them there on the roof beneath a blanket of smog-covered stars, both of them still hazy around the edges due to the whiskey and the heat and the memory of their kiss, the memory of his hands on the back of her neck.
Those things made it easy to hope. They made it easy to forget.
Because if they were surrounded by friends at the Garrison or out at Arrow House or under the watchful eye of a Blinder, Clara and Isiah wouldn’t even entertain the thought that they could be more than friends. Under those circumstances, they’d be easily convinced that regardless of the feelings between them, it was much too complicated, much too difficult.
“Maybe we should just run away. Find a place in the world where there are stars in the sky and no Shelbys.”
Isiah snorted. “Not even you?”
“Well, just me,” Clara amended. “Just me and you and no one else we've ever met. It could be easy.”
“Maybe,” Isiah hummed, his hand tilting Clara’s face up to his as he spoke. “but the course of true love never did run smooth, Clara Shelby”
“A Midsummer Night’s—” Clara started, only for the rest of the play’s title to be caught up by Isiah’s lips.
They both knew it wasn’t a good idea, dabbling in love when neither was ready to commit to the war it would be. Neither was quite ready for the consequences of them moving beyond friendship, moving against her family’s wishes and decrees, but they let it happen anyway, some piece of their hearts holding on to the hope that someday they wouldn’t be hiding on a rooftop, stealing hungry kisses in the dark.
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Title: Not a Burden
Characters: Shelby Brothers x Shelby!Sister; Alfie Solomons
Summary: Y/N Shelby is starting to feel a burden to her family, and wanted to do her part in helping the family- except she decided to work with another gangster to help her with her cause.
Warnings: A rotten dude exposing himself to a minor. Please do not continue/read if that bothers you.
Word Count: 5.8k
Author’s Note: This was way longer than I expected, but I'm glad to be able to post it finally. I hope you enjoy a longer fluffy little sister Shelby fic! Also comments/reblogs feeds a writer's soul!
Y/N wasn’t usually an eavesdropper, but her family was so loud it didn’t really matter if she was trying to or not. She heard only pieces of what they were talking about, but it was clear on what the problem was. The Shelby family was running short on money. With their reputation, there wasn’t much that they needed to pay for, but maintaining that power requires people to be bought.
“We still need to buy Y/N’s medicine and school supplies,” Polly reminded the boys.
“She’s all better- does she still need medicine?” John asked.
“Yes,” Tommy answered shortly. He wasn’t going to let his younger sister suffer just because they hadn’t managed their money well this month.
“If you boys hadn’t put business before her as usual, she wouldn’t have gotten sick.”
Y/N felt her heart sink as she heard her name being mentioned as one of the reason they were short on the money. A few weeks ago, she caught pneumonia after walking home from school. Usually, one of the brothers would drop her off, but they were called away and she insisted that she would be fine. Tommy left a few Peaky boys around the city to keep an eye on her while having her believe that she was walking home independently. When it started raining, she thought nothing of it as she enjoyed the rain and didn’t find it as an inconvenience. That night as the boys got home, she couldn’t greet them with her usual energy as she felt ill. She skipped dinner and went to bed early, and by the next morning her fever almost overtook her. It was an awful few days, and she had to be hospitalized immediately. Tommy paid to make sure she was getting the best treatment, and as she realized, it must have costed the family a fortune. Her lips started wobbling at the thought that she was the reason her family was struggling, but she soon wiped away the tears, knowing it wouldn’t do anything. She made a promise to do her best to help the family. She started with eating less, skipping a few meals here and there to make sure the food can at least be stretched out without her eating it. Next was her school supplies, she was usually a meticulous scholar, having all her notes organized but she now made it a point to make sure she didn’t need to replace her items as quickly. Her final idea was to use some of her old clothes, and turn them into handkerchiefs to sell on the streets. She was a great seamstress for her age, and knew that this was something she would be able to do easily. With a new found resolve, she took a deep breath and got to work.
Y/N has been selling her handkerchiefs for a couple of days now, not earning as much as she wanted to, but at least it was something. She mostly sold them after school under the guise of playing, and would end up staying up to do her homework. This worked out in her favour as she can skip breakfast the next day for more sleep. She was getting quite tired, but her love for her family overpowered her desire to rest and sleep. It was a cold foggy day in Small Heath and Y/N was standing at a different street to attract new customers. She was trying to get the attention of the people walking by, but to no avail. Finally, she saw a man approach.
“Hi mister! Would you like to buy a handkerchief for a lovely lady in your life?” she asked with a huge smile. As the man got closer, her smile drop as she saw his intoxicated state and leery grin.
“Hey there little girl. It’s not safe for you to be out here all alone.”
“I-I’m not alone,” she lied. “My brothers are just at that shop.” She pointed to somewhere behind her, hoping her lie was believable enough.
“Uh huh.” The man got closer, close enough that she could smell the alcohol off him. “That’s a nice hankerchief you have there. Mind if I grab one-“ He plucked it out of her hand without hearing her answer, and stuffed it down his pants.
“Wh-What are you doing, mister?” she asked, as she saw his hand move inside his pants. He was moaning as if in pain, eyes closed. “Mister?”
“Fuck,” he cursed, shoulders dropping in relief. He took out the handkerchief, a white sticky substance staining the once floral pattern. With an evil grin, he grabbed the back of Y/N’s head, trying to stuff the handkerchief in her mouth. She squirmed against his grip.
“No! What are you doing?!” She was pushing his arm away but he was much stronger. He was able to smear the cloth against her cheek before he was pulled off her by another stranger.
“Now that’s not a very nice thing to do,” the man started. “Taking advantage of little girls.” He nodded towards someone behind him, and placed a comforting hand on the girl’s shoulder. “Are you okay, dove?”
She shook her head, unsure of what just happened.
He took another one of her handkerchief peaking out of her bag, and poured what smells like alcohol from the flask in his pocket. He gently rubbed the white substance off her face, making sure there were no traces left behind. “Make sure you clean your little face real good when you get home, okay dove?”
She ignored his suggestion, staring up at his somewhat familiar face. “Who are you?”
“Name’s Alfie Solomons. We’ve met before but you were just a little babe- about yeah high.” He motioned to a little lower than his knee. “You’re Y/N Shelby. Your brothers and I are business partners.”
At the mention of her brothers she lit up, trusting the man immediately.
“Now what is the likes of yourself doing on the streets? Don’t tell me that stubborn brother of yours cut you off from their money.”
She shook her head vehemently. “Tommy would never do that!” She stared at her shuffling feet, ashamed. “I made my family spend too much money so I want to pay them back. They’re not financially in a good spot.”
Alfie raised an eyebrow, unsure that the little Shelby knows what she just did by telling him that. Any of the Shelby’s enemy would yell in glee by that information, knowing that the mob family was vulnerable to attacks because of their lack of funding. Luckily, Alfie was quite fond of the Shelby family, and his new favourite was the one standing in front of him. His cold heart warmed at the thought that she was so worried for her family that she would go all the way to selling her stuff on the street as if there wasn’t a mark on her back because of her last name. “Well then today is your lucky day. I was looking for a little assistant to help me with things as I settle into me temporary home here.”
“Really? What kinda things?” she asked, eyes wide with hope.
The man was surprised at her eagerness, realizing that her siblings must’ve done a great job at protecting her from their world as she was still able to put her faith in people like that. “Just small things- picking up my groceries from the market, and maybe a prescription here and there from the pharmacy for me eye. I can pay you,” he paused, playing with his beard for the extra suspense. “Ten shillings a week.”
“Wow! That’s so much!” She agreed happily to his terms.
“Every Monday I will give you a list of what I need for the week, and I will pay you every week when you make your deliveries.”
“Thank you thank you!”
“Though before I hire you, you need to be better at indiscretion.”
“What does that mean?”
“You can’t go around telling people that your brothers don’t have money- your brother’s got enemies that could take him down with that information.”
Her eyes widened as she realized the severity of what she had done. “I’m so stupid!” she cried, hitting her head with her balled up fists.
“Hey, hey, there's no need for that now.” Alfie has seen grown men with less guilt for putting their family in danger with the information they divulged. “Lucky for you- you just told lil' old me, and I’m harmless.”
Y/N looked up to the London gangster with tears still lining her eyes.
“Don’t cry, dove. I’m sure even if you spent all of your brother’s money, they wouldn’t have the heart to be mad at ya.”
“I would never do that!” she said, taking his jokes quite seriously. “My family means everything to me.”
Alfie nodded, confirming that he made the right decision in hiring and caring for her. He walked her back to the outskirt of Shelby territory, knowing that her brothers would have people around to look out for her.
It’s been a few weeks since Y/N started her job as Alfie’s errand girl. Both her and the gangster was surprised that her brothers hadn’t caught wind of their relation. Though the two didn't spend more time than necessary together, they became quite close. Alfie was busy with running an organization, and Y/N was busy trying to get her homework finished. She also kept up with selling her handkerchief when she had time between running errands for Alfie, schoolwork, and pretending to be a normal kid in front of her family. She was upset that she couldn’t spend as much time with her siblings as before, but she knew she has to in order to make up for being a burden.
“Y/N,” Finn called, seeing his sister walking to their home after school. “Tommy’s called for a family meeting.”
Her eyes widened, and her heart started thundering with excitement. She raised a good amount of money, and felt like she could share with her family what she’s been up to. “Okay, Finn. I’ll be right there!” She ran to her room, grabbing her shoulder bag full of money and was basically vibrating with excitement while they waited for the entire family to trickle in. She sat in the middle of Arthur and John, ignoring their chuckles at her gleaming eyes.
“Sounds like it’ll be a breezy meeting if you’re letting Y/N sit this one in,” John commented towards Tommy who was lighting a cigarette.
“Let’s begin,” the older brother ignored the comment and started the meeting. “As you know-”
The youngest Shelby’s hand shot out in the air as if she was at school.
Tommy raised an eyebrow, trying not to show any indication of annoyance at his sister’s behaviour. The second oldest brother was too soft when it comes to matter to sister, and he would rather blind himself than purposely hurt her. “What is it?”
“I have something to share with you guys.” She pulled her out her messenger bag that she carries her handkerchief and the money she collected thus far with.
“What you got for us, girlie?” Arthur asked, peering into her bag to catch a glimpse of her gift to them.
She took her bag off, and emptied the contents on the table. The Shelby clan’s jaw dropped in shock. They weren’t expecting their youngest sibling to be emptying almost 100 shillings in cash on their table.
“How in the hell did you get that much money?” John asked.
“Girl, you better not be stealing,” Polly chastised, eyes narrowing.
“I’m not! I swear it.” She looked around for her family’s approving faces, but was just met with surprised and curious looks.
“Then you better explain yourself.”
“I overheard you guys talking a few weeks ago about being short, and I know it was my fault. I stupidly got sick so you guys had to spend money on me, and I felt really bad so I decided to help. I cut my old clothes and sewed them into handkerchiefs- I’ve been selling them on the streets to make the money.”
“You made this much selling handkerchiefs?” Tommy asked, an eyebrow raised in suspicion.
“Well… no… I wasn’t making much- just a few shillings here and there, but someone hired me!”
“Who?” Arthur asked.
“Mr. Solomons.”
“Y/N!” Polly berated. “Do you know who that is?”
“At first I didn’t, but he said he knew me since I was little. He was a really nice man, and he gave me 10 shillings every week to run some errands for him.”
“What kind of errands?”
“Just picking up groceries and prescription- that’s all!”
“I don’t want you seeing him again,” Tommy said sternly.
“But Tommy- he’s a real nice man.”
“Yea you said that already,” Arthur muttered, unamused by his sister’s connection.
“How did you even meet with the likes of him?” John asked, wondering how his sister got into contact with the mobster.
“Well… one day when I was selling my stuff, this man took my handkerchief and he stuffed it down his pants. I’m not sure what he was doing but he was rubbing it a lot in his pants, and making a lot of weird noises. When he was done there was this white icky stuff, and he wanted to put it in my mouth. I was so scared but Mr. Solomons came and saved me!”
“What the fuck?!” Arthur roared with fury. He jumped out of his seat, John following with him. “Who was this man? What did he look like?”
Y/N’s eyes widened in surprise at her brother’s reaction. “I-I don’t know. Mr. Solomons pulled the man away, and next thing I know the man was gone.” She turned to Tommy who’s jaw was clenched, and his knuckles were white from gripping his the edge of the table. “Am I in trouble, Tommy?” she asked quietly, head bowing down in shame.
“No.” He pushed himself off the table and placed a hand on her shoulder. “You did nothing wrong, but we are going to pay a visit to Mr. Solomons.”
She nodded, following her brothers who were hastily putting on their jackets. She usually held on to Tommy’s hand when they were out for safety, but he had both fists clenched the entire time, making her her believe that she was in trouble. Arthur and John were no different. She thought if they were cartoon characters they would have steam coming out of their ears. It didn’t take them long to get to Alfie's temporary lodging.
“Well well well… if it isn’t the Shelby boys, and the little princess.”
“Hi, Mr. Solomons!” she greeted with a wave and a smile.
“Hello, little one.”
Tommy moved to cover Y/N from Alfie’s gaze which did not go unnoticed.
“Oh relax, would you? I would never hurt a hair on little Y/N’s head. Didn’t you hear? I saved her from an unsightly perv-”
“Did you skin him alive?” Arthur growled. “Did you tear him apart and burn him to ashes?”
“Actually, I’m sure you’d be happy to know, but I have kept the lad barely alive. I figured once the littlest Shelby told you guys what she’s been up to, you lot would pay me a visit.”
“Where is he?!” Arthur grabbed Alfie’s collar, pushing him against the wall.
“Arthur-“ John placed a hand on his oldest brother’s shoulder. “Take it easy.”
“He’s in the barn by the outskirt of town. My men have been keeping him barely alive, but I’m not sure how much longer he’ll have.”
“Tommy-“ Arthur turned to his brother, a short silent conversation happening.
“Go.” Arthur and John didn’t waste another minute and left for the man.
“What are you trying to do, Alfie?”
“What?”
“Why are you helping us?”
“Correction. I’m helping Y/N. What she chooses to do with the money I give her is her choice. If she decides to spend all that money on the sweet ice cream shop across the street then that’s her choice, and if she decides to spend the money on helping her family, then I really can’t say anything, can I?”
Tommy’s eyes narrowed, and then flickered when Y/N wrapped her hand around his, seeing it was finally unclenched. “You hurt her in any way, and I will end you.”
“Despite your very hurtful assumptions of me, I would never hurt Y/N.”
She smiled at the older man, already considering him another kind uncle.
“I’ll see you tomorrow, little Shelby?”
“8am sharp!” she responded with a little salute.
“Alfie-“
“You can have your men escort her here or I can have my men pick her up and drop her off at your residence. She’s never been alone while running errands-“
“What?!” Y/N exclaimed, surprised at the revelation.
“You think I would let a little Shelby running around associating with me unattended, child? That’s as good as a death wish. I had my men following you to make sure no one would mess with ya.”
The girl pouted, thinking of the bodyguards as babysitters. “I’m not a baby.”
“No, you’re not,” Tommy started, ignoring Alfie’s raised eyebrow, “but you are still a child, and we are not going to take that risk of you running around by yourself.” Not with a target on your back, Tommy added in his thoughts.
As they were heading out, Alfie put a hand on Tommy’s shoulder, stopping the man in his tracks and leaned near his ear. “Girl’s too hard on herself. Now, I don’t what you Shelby boys have been filling her head with but she’s got more loyalty than the lot of you. Make sure you pay her the same respect. She don’t need to be skipping meals trying save y’alls money, but she does it anyways.”
Tommy’s jaw clenched, nodding sharply. “See you around.”
“See you later, brother.”
As they walked out, Y/N tugged on her older brother’s hand. “Tommy, where are we going?”
“We’re gonna make sure Arthur and John do their job,” Tommy simply replied.
“I-I have to see the man again?” she asked, her voice trembling.
“No,” he answered right away. “This man will never bother you again.”
Tommy said nothing as they continued their journey to the barn. In truth he wanted a piece of action in giving the man what he deserved, and he knew he shouldn’t take her with them because this was what he wanted to protect her from, but at the same time he needed her to be physically with him to make sure she was safe. He couldn’t believe in his stress he didn’t check up on her like he should- he didn’t make sure she was safe. The fact that this man was able to even approach her like that was something he thought should’ve never happened. He knew now that she needed more protection- more people to watch out for her. He was more than disgusted at what that piece of garbage did, and he wanted to make sure he paid for his crimes. His sister is pure in every way, and he wasn’t going to let anyone make her feel uncomfortable like that again. He made sure she wasn’t exposed to the dirty life they lead, and if it was up to him he would make sure she never would.
Tommy made sure Y/N stayed in the car, telling her that one of the brothers would be out in a bit to keep her company. He entered the barn, hand already on his gun. He wasn’t surprised that Arthur was still beating the bloodied man up while John leaned on the wall, his fists equally bloodied.
“John, go keep Y/N company outside. Arthur,” Tommy called for his brother’s attention. “Is the man dead?”
“Not yet. I want the fucker to suffer as much as I could,” the oldest Shelby said, spitting at the barely alive man.
Tommy stepped closer, hearing his raspy breathing from the beating he took. He took out his gun, pointing to the man’s crotch. “There’s a special place in hell for people like you.” The Shelby leader kept his voice low, making sure the man wait in anticipation at what he was going to do. He shot the first bullet, the man howling in pain. The two ruthless brothers watched him writhe around before he passed out, then Tommy shot the final bullet to his temple.
Arthur pulled out his lighter from his pocket, dropping it on the man before leaving the burning barn with his brother. Outside, John had Y/N in his arms, the little girl laughing at his animated stories. The two older brothers got in the car and drove away.
When dinner came around, Tommy watched as Y/N serve the kitchen staff heaping of food on their plate, but only put barely any on her plate. He was reminded of Alfie’s words, and stepped behind Y/N. He grabbed the spoon she was serving herself with and the plate, putting more food on it.
“To-Tommy, I’m not that hungry!”
“There’s plenty of food, so eat.”
“I was planning to eat the leftovers tomorrow for lunch.”
“There’ll be food tomorrow for your breakfast and lunch.” He didn’t miss the fact that she purposely skipped breakfast.
“Bu-“
“You haven’t been eating,” he said, and the little girl froze.
She lowered her head, and Tommy’s heart dropped to his stomach when he caught her glistening eyes, and the reflection of her tears on her cheeks. He immediately put the food down, going down on one knee to see her face. “Why are you crying, love?”
“Tommy, I’m sorry.”
“What are you sorry for, love? I told you nothing was your fault.”
“Everything is my fault though! I can’t do anything right!” she exclaimed, tears running down her face. He pulled her up, carrying her to his office for more privacy and sat down on his couch with her on his lap.
“What’s this all about- why aren’t you eating?”
“I just feel awful,” she wailed finally, her eyes never meeting her brother’s in shame. “I got sick and you all had to pay so much for my medicine! I tried to eat less to make up the money you guys spent on me, but it didn’t feel like enough-“
“No,” he said sternly. “You are not missing meals or eating less because you feel guilty. You will eat the proper amount, got it?”
“But-“
“Don’t make me tell Polly to monitor your meals.”
“I just wanted to do my part in helping with the family. You guys do so much for me, and I haven’t done anything.”
“Y/N, you are a child. You don’t need to worry yourself with these things. Your big brothers are gonna take care of everything for you.”
“But you’re already so stressed out, and I feel like I’m causing so much trouble. I’m not even worth it-“
“Y/N M/N Shelby,” Tommy hissed. Despite his tone, he gently grabbed her chin with his index finger, forcing her to look at him. With tears lining her eyes, she finally met his soft blue eyes, finding no trace of resentment but only love. “You will never say those words again.”
“Tommy-“
“You are worth everything and more than what we have. If I have to lose everything we own and burn down this whole city for you, I will. You are the most important thing in my life, and I will not hear you say those words again.”
“‘m sorry, Tommy.”
“Stop apologizing. You have done nothing wrong.” She leaned back down, her tears stopping to a few sniffles. “So here’s what we’re gonna do. You will eat to your fill, and tomorrow we will get ice cream after you’ve finished your errands.”
Her head snapped back up at the mention of her favourite treat. “Ice cream?”
“Yes, but you have to finish the food on your plate.”
With a wide grin she nodded, jumping out of his lap to get started on her food. He went over to the family room, finding his family getting read to head to the kitchen.
“Why has no one noticed Y/N hasn’t been eating?” he thundered, glaring at his family members for not noticing her lack of proper care.
“She’s not?” John asked, thinking back to his encounters with her.
“I thought she was just getting conscious about her body,” Polly shrugged. “You know how girls that age are, but I always made sure to put more food on her plate.”
“She has been skipping meals because she feels bad that we’re spending money on her, and I will not let that happen ever again. If anyone sees anything amiss- anything at all, you come straight to me.”
“Y’know,” Arthur started, scratching the ends of his moustache. “When I checked her homework the other day, I noticed that she was writing extra small. Me thinks she’s trying to extend her school supplies as well.” The brothers had long stopped making fun of Arthur for insisting on checking her homework. Everyone knew Y/N was the most educated on paper, but Arthur felt it was his obligation as her oldest brother to see that her homework was done and done well.
Tommy placed a hand on his forehead, wondering how much he’s missed in the last few months. “Fuck,” he cursed.
When the family went to the kitchen, they frowned when they saw Y/N staring at her food without eating a single bite. When she saw them come in, she burst into a huge smile. “I was waiting for you to eat together!”
“Oh silly girl. Your food’s all cold now,” Polly chided.
“It’s okay!” she shook her head. Arthur took the plate in front of her while Polly prepared another plate fresh from the stove, adding a bit more food than what initially had. “Arthur no! You can’t have my cold food.”
“D’n worry, love. It’ll get warm in my belly anyways!” He put both hands on his belly, patting it.
She giggled at the sight, and her eyes twinkled at the sight of her family around her. They all made jokes with her whilst still making sure she was eating so when she cleared her plate, Polly sneakily grabbed her plate while Arthur was distracting her and put a little more food in front of her. To everyone’s delight she ate it all, yawning after all the food was gone and the laughters died down.
“Tommy, can everyone come get ice cream with me tomorrow?”
“You were gonna get ice cream without us?” John asked, hand on his chest as if the thought offended him.
"Never!" she shook her head. "We're all going, right Tommy?" Her brother could only nod at her request with a small smile.
Arthur cleared his throat and got up. “Now before you go to bed, love, we need to check your homework. Perhaps we can clean your backpack as well.”
“Okay, Arthur.” She hopped off her chair, grabbing his hand and leading him to her room where she does all her homework. She took out her notebook, and Arthur immediately noticed the worn out pages from how little she had written in the notebook- it was barely legible.
“Love, I can barely read your writing!” he exclaimed. “You need to write bigger next time- for your dear old brother’s sake, eh?”
“Sorry, Arthur.” She looked down at her shoes. “I was trying to make my notebooks last longer so you wouldn’t have to buy me more.”
“None of that. You’re our little scholar- we need you to be studying hard with all the right supplies or else who’s gonna be keeping Tommy in line?”
She giggled at his jokes, and nodded, relieved that she didn’t have to lie to her brothers anymore.
“Now, read me your answers so your dear old brother doesn’t have to strain his eyes.” He sat on her chair, picking her up to put on his lap just like when she was smaller.
She read him the questions and her answers, pointing them out so there were no spelling errors either.
“Well, we got ourselves a little Shelby genius here!” he kissed her cheek, and she flinched away from his moustache, giggling all the way.
“It tickles!” she shrieked as he continued to rub his cheeks against her soft ones.
“Alright, love. Good job on your homework.”
“Can I go to bed not, Artie? I’m feeling kinda tired?” the littlest Shelby yawned to prove her point, already almost dozing off.
“Tired, eh? What have you been doing to be so tired?” Arthur asked it as a joke, but Y/N avoided his eyes as she thought he was being serious.
“I’ve been staying up late making the handkerchief, and waking up early to sell it so I can do errands for Alfie after school and still do my chores when I get home.”
Arthur’s heart broke hearing how much his youngest sister has been working, and he immediately gave her a hug. “You don’t need to do that anymore, love. Tommy’s got a plan- kid like you don’t need to be working so hard, eh?”
She nodded, almost already dozing off in her brother’s embrace.
“Go get ready for bed, and I’ll come back to tuck you in.”
“Okay!” She left for the bathroom, and Arthur went back to the kitchen where his family had stayed to grab her a glass of water for the night.
He gave a deep sigh, rubbing his forehead and closing his eyes tightly.
“Is Y/N okay?” John asked, his oldest brother’s state putting him on alert.
“Girl’s been working herself to the bone for the last month- staying up late, not eating, and still trying to run everyone’s errands. She’s fucking exhausted and it’s not even 8pm yet where before she would be begging us to play with her until midnight.” Arthur shook his head, filling up the water in the cup and leaving again.
“You tucking her in?” Tommy asked.
“Yea. She asked if she could sleep early- nearly fell asleep on me.”
Tommy nodded, following his older brother to her room. Y/N was brushing her hair, lighting up when she saw her brothers again. Arthur placed the glass of water beside her bed, and came up to her to take the brush from her hand. He finished brushing her hair for her, reminding the siblings of when she was younger and sat on his lap while he tried figuring out how to braid her hair.
“There you go, love. Prettiest girl in all of Small Heath.”
She giggled, but shook her head. “No, Artie- That’s Ada!”
“You both are the prettiest girls in Small Heath, and dare I say the whole world!”
Y/N giggled again, giving her brother a big hug before settling in bed where Tommy was standing by. He smiled as she got under the covers, and he sat down on the edge of her bed, pulling the covers right under her chin. He placed a hand on her small face, rubbing at her cheek with his thumb. He noted how soft and smooth it was, reminding him just how young she was. He leaned down to place a kiss on her forehead.
“I love you, Y/N- so much,” he whispered seeing her eyes droop.
“I love you too, Tommy,” she mumbled before succumbing to her tiredness.
The next day, Y/N and her brothers made their way to the ice cream shop. Suddenly, she stopped and gasped. “We should invite Alfie!”
The brothers couldn’t stop their sister in time before she ran off to his house, and they were quick to follower her. She knocked on his door, rocking on her feet in excitement. When the door opened, she was surprised to find someone else at the door. She hadn’t noticed but her brothers surely did that his hand was underneath his coat, most likely holding on to a gun.
“Excuse me, is Mr. Solomons home?” she asked before being pulled back by Finn behind her other brothers who had stood in front of her.
“Ah if it isn’t the Shelby clan,” the man muttered.
“Who’s there?” Alfie asked, approaching the door.
“Alfie!” Y/N greeted, shaking off Finn’s hand around her. “D’you wanna come with us to the ice cream shop?”
“Well I can’t refuse a little lady as yourself.” He grabbed his hat, and gave instructions to the man who opened the door. “Be a dear and finish up here, why don’t you.”
The Camden mobster followed the family to the ice cream shop, everyone in the shop immediately ceasing their chatter. Y/N paid no attention to the fear in everyone’s eyes as she ran up to the selection of ice cream they had.
“Mister, I want ice cream for all of us, please!” she ordered. “I can pay for everyone!” She held up her little horse purse that Tommy got her so long ago.
“Oh, there’s no need for that,” Alfie said, putting a hand on her shoulder.
“No, no! I want to treat you guys to ice cream.” As she went back to picking a flavour, the 4 mobster (and Finn) stared the poor owner down, not having to say a single word to get their point across.
“Don’t worry about paying Miss Shelby. Your ice creams are on the house!” he said trying to sound jovial, but tripping over his words.
Y/N didn’t notice his stutter, but beamed in happiness. “Really?”
“Yes- you never have to pay for ice cream here!”
“Wow! That’s very nice of you, mister!”
Y/N made sure everyone got their ice cream first, having a habit of putting everyone first. When it was time for her ice cream, the man made the mistake of making eye contact with Alfie. His shaking hands didn’t wait for Y/N to grab the ice cream, and slipped form her tiny hands and on the floor.
“Oh no- oh God,” the man immediately muttered. You could hear a pin drop at how quiet it was in the shop. People tensed, waiting for a bloodbath to occur.
Y/n gasped in surprise. “Oh no! Spilled ice cream. I’m sorry mister- I can help clean up!” She narrated the event only like a child could.
“Oh- uh- well- Don’t worry about the mess,” the man sputtered. “It was my fault. I can give you another ice cream.”
“It’s okay mister. You already gave us all ice cream,” Y/N said, trying to hide her disappointment. Her bottom lip jutted out slightly, and her shoulders were slouched. “Thank you though.”
The man could feel the mobsters tearing him up with their eyes. Finally it was Tommy who spoke up. “Here, love. You can have my ice cream. I know it’s your favourite flavour.” Seeing as Y/N wanted to be just like Tommy in every way, it didn’t surprise anyone that they shared the same love for a certain flavoured ice cream.
“But it’s yours, Tommy.”
“I wasn’t hungry anyways.” He placed it in her hand, making sure she had wrapped her hand around it before letting go. “Let’s go home now.”
“Okay, Tommy! Thank you.”
No one dared breath until the gang was out of the shop. However it was made clear in those short moments of two things. One, little Y/N Shelby was one of the most polite and kind kid of her age group. And two, she was also one of the most protected kid in all of England. The hold she has on the two of the most feared gang in England made her a force to be reckoned with.
Little Leclerc Series
Madelyn Leclerc, the youngest of her siblings. She grew up around karting and Formula 1, so there was a matter of time when she got into racing. Watching her two brothers racing was something she also wanted to do as well. Now, her dreams are becoming an reality. What will Madelyn face in that seat at Alfa Romeo? Ollie Bearman, the secret boyfriend of Madelyn. Well not secret but none of her brothers know and that’s probably for the best. Ollie and Madelyn have known each other for quite some time due to him being her brother’s teammate.He’s making his debut in Formula 2 and Madelyn in Formula 1, will their relationship get revealed somehow?
Ollie Bearman x Madelyn Leclerc (OC)
Part 1
Spa. One track where they lost a very important friend. No wonder it was scary to see Madelyn crash there..
Part 2
Madelyn is finally able to tell her family that there isn’t going to be just one Leclerc on the F1 grid this year.
Part 3
While she was visiting Arthur in the F2 paddock, she sees her boyfriend that she hasn’t seen in a few months..
Part 4
Madelyn prepares for her first ever F1 race, it’s good thing she has so many people who are supportive of her there.
Part 5
Ollie and Madelyn celebrate their anniversary, posting a picture online wasn’t the brightest idea..
Part 6
Charles and Arthur aren’t happy that Madelyn is dating Ollie, this leads to an argument between the three siblings..
Part 7
Eventually, Charles and Arthur sees how happy their sister in with Ollie and accept their relationship.
Part 8
A weekend that just proves that Ollie and Madelyn are THE racing couple.
Part 9
Madelyn‘s ‘older brothers’ can’t wait to officially meet her boyfriend..
Part 10 (finale)
Ollie and Madelyn get to enjoy summer with each other despite her brothers not likely the idea of it..
Started: April 2023
Finished: March 2024
My cat is a demon
A/n: I go back to Uni next week. So sad. I'm set on who to put reader with now, but I've also got a new little thing for Frederik Vesti... so if you guys would like anything for that pls let me know... cause the Vesti fanfics are scarceeeee. Pairing: F1 grid x driver!reader Summary: One of readers cats is a menace to society. Warning: none???
@yourusername
liamlawson30, oscarpiastri, logansargeant & others liked
Meet Cosmic Creepers. @ georgerussell63 thinks he's a demon in disguise, but he's really just a kooky little guy 🐈⬛
View all comments
georgerussel63 that thing is the only thing that scares me
> yourusername that 'thing' has a name. Be nice to cossie Georgie
liamlawson30 what is it doing??
> yourusername that was George finding out that he lost a bet
>> user.1 omg what bettttt??? tell us the bet Y/n
>>> georgerussell63 he was talking about the cat...
@yourusername
charles_leclerc, mickschumacher, frederikvestiofficial & others liked
This was Lando after Cossie bit him
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landonorris keep him away from me
> yourusername you aggravated him... he needs his space
>> maxfewtrell I think cats just don't like you mate
>>> landonorris ha... clearly
oscarpiastri bring Cossie to the races
> yourusername mayyybeee.
>> yourusername if i bring him though, then i'd have to bring all the others
>>> logansargeant bring them, bring them, bring them
>>>> liamlawson30 bring them, bring them
>>>>> landonorris you're don't even go here anymore
>>>>>> liamlawson30 wow... ruudee
yourusername fiiinnee I'll bring them...
porschef1 new mascots cofirmed?
@yourusername
fernandoalo_oficial, maxverstappen1, landonorris & others liked
He may be a menace, but he has my heart. Here's some smiley pics of my gorgeous and cute demonic cat... I know you all love him really. Who can stay mad at that face... 💙💙
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User.2 He's so cuuutteeee
User.3 Do you dress him up?
> Yourusername they all get dressed up on special holidays
>> User.3 omg all?? you have others??? show uusssssss
User.4 Photo dump pleeaasseee
maxverstappen1 does he get along with others? if yes... playdate when??
> yourusername yes annndddd next week maybe?
>> alex_albon can we join?
>>> yourusername all are welcome <33
georgerussell63 I suppose he is quite cute
> landonorris don't fall for it George... it wants you to say that. It'll lure you in and eat you
>> yourusername don't be ridiculous
>>> georgerussell63 I mean he still gives me the heebie jeebies
User.5 oop... JUMPSCARE what is that last photo???
User.6 what in the sleep paralysis demon
yourusername you're all so horrible to him :((
Masterlist
A/n- Most recent one shots are at the top, happy reading! :)
UPCOMING ONE SHOTS DRABBLE MASTERLIST
Keep reading
Hey love the leclerc sister ❤️ can you do maybe that we won in monza her reaction and the family reaction please ?
Hiii guys. I hope you enjoy reading this and thank you soo much for all the support. I promise, I'll try to write the other requests as soon as possible. However, I currently find it easier to write Leclerc!sister stories. So if you have some ideas, my requests are open for them. (they are open for all ideas. Btw, I'm so happy that Charles won. He is literally my favourite driver. However, I'm very unhappy with the way Lando is currently acting (it's just my opinion, please respect that) Enjoy reading!!! -XoXo
He won in Monaco, he wins in Monza
One of the interviewers, addressing Charles who was seated alongside Lewis and Nico in the media room, asked, “A question for Charles. I hope I’m not being disrespectful with this question, but it is about your little sister. Why is Monza her first race appearance and not Monaco, and why did it take so long for her to attend a race weekend?”
It was Thursday, and the only topic on everyone’s lips was the attendance of YN Caroline Pascale Florence Leclerc. When the Leclerc family entered the paddock today, the sight of the young Monegasque girl walking between her older brothers not only surprised the fans but also caught the media’s attention, as it was her first-ever Formula 1 appearance.
Charles responded to the first part of the question with a smile, "Ah, yes. I’ve been asked that a lot today. Well, it’s actually quite simple. My sister wasn’t in Monaco to see the race in person because she was at home with our grandmother, watching the race together. Since the start of my Formula 1 career, my sister and grandmother have always watched the races together at my grandmother’s home. There are a couple of reasons for this tradition: 1. My sister was too young to attend the paddock a few years ago. With all the media and fans, it would have been quite overwhelming for her. 2. My grandmother isn’t very healthy anymore, so it’s easier for her to stay at home, where it’s cooler, and she can relax in peace. So, this has become their Monaco Race tradition, and I wouldn’t want to ruin that just because people are wondering where YN is."
Before Charles could address the second part of the question, Lewis interjected, preventing the reporters from probing further. “That is a really sweet tradition. And Charles is right. Why should he ruin a family tradition, or in this case, a grandmother-granddaughter tradition, just because the fans and media think YN must attend the Grand Prix in person? From the sounds of it, all parties seem happy with how things are.”
Nico, who had been listening intently, nodded in agreement and added, “Absolutely. Family traditions are important, and it’s heartwarming to hear about the bond between your sister and grandmother. It’s not always about being physically present at the races; it’s about the shared experience and the memories they create together.”
Charles smiled thankfully at Lewis and Nico before agreeing with them. “Yeah, everyone is happy with how things are, and it doesn’t matter because, in the end, we always have a nice big family dinner with everyone. For the second part of your question about why it took so long for my sister to make an appearance, there is also a simple answer. My sister recently turned 18 years old, meaning she now counts as an adult. However, when I started in Formula 1, she was only 12 years old, meaning she was a little girl. My family and I had a long talk about this when I first started racing, and none of us felt comfortable with the thought of her getting swarmed by the media or fans at such a young age. We wanted her to be able to go to school or meet up with friends without getting photographed all the time. As some of you might have seen, I only posted pictures of my sister where her face was covered up just for privacy. But now she is 18 years old, she made the decision to attend this weekend, so I’ll respect that. However, I still ask everybody to not swarm her and leave her as much privacy as possible. She is here to watch the race and not to be the new art piece for social media."
With the strong words from the Ferrari driver, the media stopped asking questions about the youngest Leclerc, making her brother's life a bit easier this weekend.
_______________________________________________
The next few days passed quickly and YN enjoyed every minute with it. Not only was the young girl able to see her brothers all of the time, but everybody was also so nice to her. AT the Ferrari garage, the mechanics always greeted her and answered all her questions. The other team members were always quick to inform YN about the newest paddock Gossip over some watermelon and strawberry gelato. Carlos, her brothers team mate, told her all of Charles embarrassing stories, making her laugh till she cried. And the best part for her was, that her family was always there as well. And before she could even blink, it was finally race day.
The air was electric at the Autodromo Nazionale Monza, where the excitement of the Formula 1 race filled the atmosphere with palpable energy. YN, a bright-eyed girl with a heart full of enthusiasm, stood between her two older brothers, Arthur and Lorenzo. The three of them wore matching Ferrari shirts, their faces painted with the iconic red logo.
“Can you believe we’re finally here?” YN exclaimed, her eyes sparkling as she took in the sprawling racetrack and the roaring engines.
“I know! It’s incredible!” Arthur replied, grinning broadly. He ruffled her hair affectionately. “You’re going to love this, YN. Just wait until the race starts!”
Lorenzo leaned in closer, his voice a mix of excitement and pride. “And just think, you’re going to see Charles out there racing! This is his second home track!”
YN's eyes widened with joy. “I can’t wait! I’ve watched him on TV, but seeing him in person is going to be amazing!”
As the cars lined up on the starting grid, the atmosphere thickened with anticipation. The siblings exchanged glances, feeling the thrill of the moment. Suddenly, the crowd erupted into cheers as the drivers took their positions, and YN jumped up and down.
“Look! There he is!” YN pointed excitedly as Charles, her older brother, appeared on the screen, adjusting his helmet and climbing into his Ferrari.
“Go, Charles!” Arthur shouted, pumping his fist in the air. Lorenzo joined in, his voice booming, “You’ve got this, Charles! Show them what you’re made of!”
With the race about to begin, YN felt a flutter of nerves mixed with excitement. “What if he sees us?” she asked, her voice a mixture of hope and anxiety.
“He will! He always looks for us,” Lorenzo assured her, wrapping an arm around her shoulder. “And he’ll be so happy to see you here for your first race!”
The lights turned green, and the cars shot off the line, the sound of engines roaring like a symphony of speed. YN’s eyes were glued to the track, her heart racing in rhythm with the cars as they sped by. “This is so fast! Look at them go!” she shouted, her excitement contagious.
As the laps progressed, the tension in the air grew. YN cheered for Charles, her small voice echoing through the grandstands. “Come on, Charles! You can do it!”
Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the race came to an end, and Charles crossed the finish line in a spectacular first place. The crowd erupted in applause, and YN jumped up, beaming. “He did it! He did it!”
Arthur and Lorenzo hugged her tightly. “He’s amazing!” Lorenzo exclaimed, his voice barely able to contain his excitement. “I’m so proud of him!”
As the drivers began to celebrate, YN spotted Charles climbing out of his car, his face lit up with joy. He scanned the crowd, and when his eyes landed on his family, his smile widened even more. “I see them!” he shouted, pointing towards them.
“Charles!” YN screamed, waving her arms wildly.
Charles jogged over to the barrier, his heart swelling with happiness as he spotted his little sister. “YN! Did you enjoy the race?” he called out, leaning over the fence to get a better look at her.
“Of course I did! I loved it! You were amazing!” she exclaimed, her cheeks flushed with excitement.
“Did you really? I’m so glad you’re here!” Charles leaned closer, his eyes shining with pride. “You were cheering so loud! I could hear you!”
“Really?” YN’s eyes widened in disbelief, and she giggled. “I was so nervous! But it was the best day ever!”
Arthur chimed in, “You should’ve seen her, Charles. She was a little ball of energy the whole time!”
“YN, you’re my lucky charm!” Charles laughed, ruffling her hair. “I need you at every race now!”
“I will! I promise!” she giggled back, feeling like the happiest girl in the world.
Lorenzo grinned at his brothers. “You should be proud. You raced well, Charles. You’re amazing out there!”
“Thanks, man. It means a lot,” Charles replied, his voice filled with gratitude. “But the real highlight was seeing YN here. I can’t believe it’s her first time!”
Just then, the crowd roared with applause as Charles’s fellow drivers approached, congratulating him. He turned back to YN, “Let’s take a picture! I want to remember this moment!”
“Yes! Let’s do it!” YN squealed, and the three brothers gathered around her, arms wrapped tightly.
With the sun setting behind them, painting the sky in shades of orange and pink, they posed for a picture. Charles held YN close, a protective arm around her shoulders, while Arthur and Lorenzo beamed with pride.
“Say Ferrari!” Charles instructed, and they all shouted in unison, “Ferrari!”
As they snapped the picture, YN felt a warmth in her heart, knowing that this day would be etched in her memory forever. “I can’t wait for the next race!” she declared, looking up at her brothers.
“Neither can we,” Arthur said, pulling her in for another hug. “We’ll make sure you’re at every race!”
“Absolutely,” Lorenzo added, a grin plastered on his face. “You’re part of the team now, YN!”
Charles smiled down at his little sister, feeling grateful for the love and support of his family. “I’m so lucky to have you all here. This was the best race ever.”
As the excitement of the race began to settle, YN, Arthur, and Lorenzo found a cozy spot near the track where they could watch the celebration unfold. The atmosphere was alive with the sounds of laughter, cheers, and the roar of the fans.
“Look at them!” YN pointed to Charles, who was now surrounded by teammates and fans. He was smiling from ear to ear, clearly reveling in the joy of the moment. “He looks so happy!”
“He is happy,” Arthur replied, leaning back against the railing. “It’s not just about the race; it’s about sharing it with the people you love.”
“Yeah, and he knows we’re here cheering him on,” Lorenzo added, a proud grin on his face. “He’s always been a family guy.”
YN beamed, her heart swelling with pride. “I can’t believe I got to see him race in person. It was so cool!“
As the celebrations continued, YN’s attention was suddenly caught by a group of fans waving banners and holding up signs. “Look over there! They have a sign for Charles!” she exclaimed, pointing excitedly.
“Let’s go check it out!” Arthur suggested, and they made their way through the crowd, YN leading the charge.
When they reached the group, they encountered a colorful banner that read, “Charles Leclerc, our champion!” YN’s eyes sparkled with admiration.
“Can I hold it?” she asked, her voice filled with eagerness.
“Of course! Here you go!” one of the fans replied, handing the banner to her. YN beamed with joy as she held it high above her head.
“Charles! Over here!” she shouted, waving the banner enthusiastically.
Charles turned, catching sight of his little sister holding the sign, and his heart swelled with affection. “YN! That’s amazing!” he called back, flashing her a thumbs-up.
“Look, he sees us!” Lorenzo said, his excitement contagious.
“Let’s take another picture!” Arthur suggested, pulling out his phone.
As they posed with the banner, YN felt a surge of happiness. This was a moment she would cherish forever. After snapping a few pictures, they decided to head back to the main area where the podium ceremony was about to take place.
“YN, you’re going to love this part!” Lorenzo said, guiding her through the crowd. “This is where the drivers get their trophies.”
As they settled into a spot with a great view of the podium, YN couldn’t contain her excitement. “I can’t wait to see Charles get his trophy!”
When the drivers were finally called up to the podium, the crowd erupted into cheers. Charles stood proudly on the first-place step, his trophy gleaming in the sunlight. YN clapped and cheered along with her older brothers.
Charles looked down at his family, and his smile only grew wider. He raised the trophy high above his head, and the crowd roared in response.
After the ceremony, Charles made his way through the crowd toward his family, still clutching the trophy. “You guys are the best! Thank you for being here!” he exclaimed, enveloping YN in a warm embrace.
“I’m so proud of you, Charles!” YN squeaked, her face lighting up with adoration. “You were so fast!”
“Thanks, little sis! It means the world to me that you came to support me,” he replied, tousling her hair again. “I hope you enjoyed it.”
“I loved it!” she said, her eyes glistening. “Can we come to every race now?”
“Absolutely! We’ll make it a tradition,” Charles promised, exchanging a knowing glance with Arthur and Lorenzo, who nodded in agreement.
As the sun began to set, painting the sky in hues of pink and orange, the siblings gathered for one last photograph together. Charles held the trophy aloft, with YN standing proudly beside him, a huge grin plastered on her face.
my sister asked me to draw this
Moon Star
Marc Spector x Daughter!reader
Summary- After the snap the relationship you had with your father, Marc Spector is nothing of what it was before. The love he once harbored are all memories, and the responsibility he had over his own child he left to his parents and Layla. It isn’t until you’re 18 that you join Layla’s side for adventures Marc never wanted you to join, you become best friends, she becomes your mother. And it’s when you’re finally out back in London that things begin to go awry and your father crosses your life again, only he says he isn’t your father but rather Steven Grant. It hurts to hear him deny the fact, hear him turn you down and ignore you, you’re set to finally forget about him, but then you have no choice but to go on an adventure with him, Layla and the egyptian god Khonshu.
What does the adventure hold? Salvation for your relationship with your father? Pain? Or a very special opportunity…
Season 1:
Chapter 1: Wolf
Chapter 2: Isn’t it strange?
Chapter 3: All for love
Chapter 4: Heart to heart
.
Chapter 5: Spider-boy
Chapter 6: Daddy’s girl
Chapter 7: Should I stay or Should I go?
Marvin Gayne (faceclaim)
𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮
[𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐟𝐚𝐫𝐞] 𝐄𝐫𝐢𝐤 𝐱 𝐟!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫
Erik finds himself at your door again, like he always does.
𝐛𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐬 𝐛𝐮𝐧𝐧𝐲!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫, fluff, slight angst, wc 1k, the marias inspired this , got a filthy Tommy ver. in my drafts 🤭🤭🙂↔️
your restless. the sheets are warm, maybe too warm. you kick them off then pull them back. nothing helps. you lie still, staring at the dark ceiling your eyes beginning to involuntarily close from how long they’ve been open.
then a soft click of the lock.. the doorknob turns slowly, the door eases open without a creak, whoever it is slips inside quietly. heavy boots shift on the floor but barely make a sound
whoever it is calls your name softly
not bunny, not sweetheart, none of the things the other men call you. just your name. your real name. the one only him and one other person know about.
you know that voice quiet and hoarse, Erik.
you don’t turn when you hear your name. you don’t need to
his footsteps draw nearer, slow and almost hesitant. then the bed dips at the edge under his weight not much, just enough to tilt your body slightly toward him
you feel the brush of his fingers against your arm barely there, he tucks a loose strand of hair behind your ear with care. you don’t see his face, but you can feel his eyes on you
he slowly moves, then lies down behind you.
one strong arm slides around your waist, the other settling under his head. his chest meets your back, his breath warm at the nape of your neck as he pulls you in
“Can’t sleep” he murmurs, “Thought I’d come and see you.”
you hum understandingly, your fingers find his where they rest on your stomach. you trace the curve of his knuckles, the space between them and then gently press your hand over his.
Erik’s breath slows against your neck, his arm tightens just a little around your waist, you can feel the tension in his hand begin to ease, fingers unclenching as you trace small, absent shapes over his skin.
then, without a word he leans in and presses the softest kiss to your shoulder. It’s barely there, just the brush of his lips against your skin
you feel him nuzzle in a little closer, his nose brushing your hair as he breathes you in. and then his hand still resting protectively over your stomach starts to move. gentle strokes of his thumb over your skin, tracing the hem of your shirt, then back again.
his fingertips lightly graze yours where your hands touch, and he curls his pinky around yours. his arms stay wrapped around you but your body shifts slowly in his hold gently, carefully until you’re facing him. his eyes meet yours instantly as if he’d been waiting
you lay like that nose to nose in the dark, his forehead barely a inch away from yours. he doesn’t speak and neither do you. you take the opportunity to really look at him. the sharp curve of his brow, the small furrow between them that never quite smooths out, the look in his eyes, like he’s always half-here and half-somewhere he doesn’t want to be.
your hand comes up slowly, fingers brushing the stubble on his chin. he leans into it without thinking, eyelids closing shut at your touch like it’s the first real comfort he’s let himself feel in days maybe longer.
you trace the angle of his jaw, then the soft slope of his cheekbone, your thumb resting just under his eye. he doesn’t move. doesn’t stop you.
“Are you okay Erik?” you whisper.
he opens his eyes again, but doesn’t look away.
“Yeah…” he says voice low and raspy, “Just… been a lot lately.”
he slowly shifts releasing you from his hold. he sits up from his position in the dark, the bed creaking softly under his weight. moonlight from the small window softly lights across his back catching on the worn fabric of his shirt as he pulls it over his head and lets it drop to the floor without a care. scars trail faintly along his skin old ones, some faded
when he lays back down, he reaches for you gently guiding you into him until your cheek rests against the warmth of his bare chest. his arms wrap around you, one hand pressing lightly to the small of your back, the other stroking slow, absent circles along your spine
you always knew Erik’s needs were different, more emotional than physical. where others came to you looking for a distraction, he came to be known. he didn’t want your body he wanted your closeness, your presence that didn’t demand anything from him.
“I don’t know what I’d do without you” he murmurs into your hair
you smile softly against his chest, “You’ll never have to find out” you whisper back
he doesn’t respond, he just simply kisses the top of your head.
you tilt your head just enough to meet his eyes again, “I’m always here Erik” you say. “always.”
he pulls you in tighter, letting your warmth melt into him
you stay there, pressed against his chest, wrapped up in his arms. you can hear his heart beating a little quick, a little uneven like him having you this close makes him nervous
and this isn’t the first time, not the first night he’s come to you mentally and physically drained. not the first time he let himself be just Erik with you not Captain, not soldier, just a man who needs to feel something soft, something genuine. and with you, he always could
It’s always been like this
your fingers drift upward from his chest, slow brushing the strong line of his neck, your thumb tracing just under his jaw. he watches you eyes half lidded and soft, you can see the way he’s letting himself feel just for a moment, just here with you.
you lift your head just enough, tilt your chin slightly and kiss him
gently, not rushed, not desperate. just lips brushing his with the same care he always shows you intentional, warm, soft
he kisses you back. his hand curls against your lower back pulling you closer, like he wants to feel every inch of you pressed to him. his lips move against yours softly
when you pull back just a little, breath mingling with his, his forehead rests against yours, eyes closed.
you stay curled against him, your hand resting gently over his heart and Erik holds you even tighter
he should feel comforted. safe. you always gave him that.
but instead, he feels everything
His eyes stay open long after yours drift closed, staring at the ceiling like it might give him answers. he listens to your breathing soft and steady, your body warm against his so trusting, so close and still, part of him unsure of what to do with all of this
sometimes, he wants to tell you he loves you
the words sit on the edge of his tongue when you’re touching him like this, when your voice is soft, when your eyes see right through the man he pretends to be for everyone else. he wants to whisper it freely while he softly kisses you, wants to feel the way you’d melt into him if he just said it.
but other times he just wants to shove it all down. pretend it doesn’t exist. pretend you don’t mean what you do to him. because you’re a barracks bunny, and he’s the captain. he should pull away, close his eyes, let himself drift off to sleep. but he doesn’t.
he lays there still, while your body fits perfectly against his like it’s meant to. like it always does. and he hates how right it feels. because everything about this is wrong, isn’t it?
you’re not his.
you were never supposed to be more than just a easy escape, just a body he could fall into when being in command became too much. that’s what a barracks bunny is.. comfort without commitment, no complication of feelings
but you mean something to him. you always have.
he tells himself it’s the circumstances you're both in. that war makes people reach for warmth and company wherever they can find it. that if he had met you somewhere else than maybe he wouldn’t look at you the way he does. wouldn’t feel his chest tighten every time he came to see you. wouldn’t ache when you pull away in the morning and leave him staring at the spot where your body laid warm and close against his.
but deep down, he knows that’s a lie. It’s not the circumstances or war that make him feel this way.
It’s you. the way you touch him without asking for anything in return. the way you see straight through him, and still choose to let him in. you never try to fix him. you just stay. quiet, patient, kind. and that undoes him more than anything else.
he watches you for a long time. his hand still on your back, moving in slow circles. you shift a little in your sleep a sweet soft sigh slipping from your lips as you unconsciously nuzzle closer.
he could never say he loves you. because if he says it what’s left of him then? so he settles with just closing his eyes for tonight, burying his face in your hair, and holding you tighter while saying nothing.
it’s getting messy.. situationship with Ray or sweet Erik 💔
@spacec0wgirl777 @meetmeatyourworst @f4nfic-lover @tenseoyong @ddlydevotion @https-junebug @glassbxttless @legoflowrs @samslvrgirl @vinecstasy
𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞𝐬, 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 - 𓊆ྀི 𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐦𝐛𝐢𝐞𓊇ྀི
SUPERNATURAL REWRITES
SEASON ONE
SEASON TWO
SEASON THREE
SEASON FOUR
SEASON FIVE
SEASON SIX
SEASON SEVEN
SEASON EIGHT
SEASON NINE
SEASON TEN
SEASON ELEVEN
SEASON TWELVE
SEASON THIRTEEN
SEASON FOURTEEN
SEASON FIFTEEN
SERIES ONESHOTS:
Dream On: after Ellie is captured while hunting a Djinn, she and her brothers are faced with a decision to make. (Before Season 1)
The Letter: Sam and Dean make a pact to get Ellie out of her deal, no matter what it takes. (Beginning of Season 3)
Help
does anyone ever read a fanfic about the winchester sister that goes like, where dean, sam, and their sister meet their alternate version. but the alternate version of dean and sam lost their sister a long time ago. and the alternate version of dean and sam just shock to see their "sister" again. yeah the fanfic goes about like that. it's mostly a fluff. if im not quite wrong, it's like their Apocalypse version. oh and there's like a part where the sister singing
I don't remember where i read it, and now i cannot find it 😭. Please help if you know what I mean
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