#(i love polly people <3 )

[honeycollectswhump]

Things End | People Change – Staining Touch

this is shameless friendfiction of my dear friend @whumpcloud's story Things End | People Change, featuring poorest little meow meow vincent, my beloved. go check it out if you haven't already !!!

CW: guilt, so so much self-blame and self-deprication, references to past torture and also past SA undertones (vincent is going through it)

Clary has brought him something new, something to slowly fill out the empty space of the basement that is not his but as close as it gets. 

It’s a mirror, almost two-thirds of his height, strange and wobbly and cause of a weird noise Vincent cannot categorize into his existing knowledge when it is bent. Arguably, it is doing a very bad job of being a mirror, besides the fact that it is floppy and almost entertainingly noisy before being put up on the wall, because it distorts his reflection at the edges, pulling him into comical shapes like dough if he moves.

But most importantly, most off-puttingly is the fact that it portrays his reflection at all. 

At first, he can do nothing but stare.

In a little under two hundred years, all Vincent has seen of himself was through the eyes of others and those never regarded him too kindly. Not that he didn’t share that sentiment.

He knows what he can see, from the brown of his hair to the shape of his body, he knows what little is left that connects him to Henry, like the green of his eyes, and he knows what separates him, like the scar that sits right under them, as if mocking. 

And now that he can see his eyes again, for the first time in what feels like an eternity, for the first time in two human lifespans, which is distinctly one more than he had any right to, he can’t look at what remains of Henry without seeing what remains of Lyfelde. 

That man, he… 

Vincent swallows. If it could, his undead heart would be beating faster –skipping like a rabbit– with each step that thought takes.

…He loved to leave marks. 

Not for some desperate desire to be remembered in an ever-changing world, but instead with the same expectations as couples that carve their initials in the bark of a tree, curious to see the way the tree tries and fails to heal the cuts, to see how they will twist with time.

Vincent is no stranger to cuts, to initials carved into his delicate flesh, to being torn open for amusement and to satiate careless curiosity, even though they will never show on his skin, no matter how he twists and turns to get a good look at himself in the mirror.

Lyfelde however never needed force to leave evidence of himself, even if he can proudly wear the title of the last permanent remainder of Vincent’s weak mortality long gone by, and at his hands no less.

After years and years of captivity, of relentless, giddy torture, Vincent couldn’t point out individual marks of memory, couldn’t remember the incisions, the lacerations, the breaks, only the aftermath, the pain ripping at the edges of his sanity.

But when Vincent closes his eyes, when he imagines his being as he sees himself, there are stains on his chest, in the shape of a freezing claw, long delicate fingers decorated with rings much older than Vincent ever hopes to be. 

There is one right over his heart, claiming it rightfully as Lyfelde’s, honouring the hard work he put into tearing him apart just to shape him into a–

Into a toy.

He is collared –like a pet–, marked by two hands wrapping around his throat and squeezing, a brute display of strength Vincent thought could keep him safe. 

Even now, after all of these years, his mind produces the image of his hands clearer than the face that is already blurred beyond recognition by time. Neither time nor the Hunters could beat Lyfelde’s touch out of Vincent’s memories.

Vincent stretches, looking over his shoulder, pointedly ignoring the way his ribs protrude through sickly ashen skin. Even the thought that this is a far cry from his jutting ribcage in captivity, the corpselike result of starvation, turns sour with the sacrifice of those that feed him. 

He is tainted, he knows, from comfort twisted to form a blade –a stake– and embraces that should have been kind and understanding, that Vincent now can’t even bring himself to call “warm”.

He wonders –briefly– if, behind his back, in the security of Vincent’s blindness, Lyfelde’s expressions would have betrayed his intentions. If there was a way a trick of light and precognition could have warned him, if he had just seen it, seen the signs that should have been so glaringly obvious.

Still, at the cost of himself, he had found comfort and solace in the deathly cold touch, and that should have been warning enough.

Almost obsessively, his gaze scans over his own marred, unmarred skin, even as it is stretched and squished by the metal-mirror, now that he finally has the chance to, after decades of nothing. Some quiet, drowned-out part of him whispers back that this is why he avoided anything similar for so long, that the evasion of his own reflection was not only by force of his vampirism but by some self-preserving instinct.

It’s excruciating in a way that is dangerously addicting, a sizzling fire that he cannot look away from. Pain for the sake of pain for the sake of entertainment. 

Curiosity and her twin sister punishment.

If he dares to let his eyes drop lower, his hips will carry two hand-shaped brands of intimacy and trust that were only ever one-sided, burned into his skin deeper than any silver and scratch marks betraying the attempts to rid himself of the ever-present poison seeping from every pore. 

They condemned him to be both poisoned and poison at the same time, always a victim and always a monster and always rightfully so.

Vincent swipes the mirror from the wall, heaving, watching it fall to the ground, deafening but too slow. He wants to fall to his knees, begging and ripping the metal to shreds, ripping his own reflection to shreds so that he will never have to look at it again. … So that it will never be looked at again.

[intheholler]

the appalachian murder ballad <3 one of the most interesting elements of americana and american folk, imo!

my wife recently gave me A Look when i had one playing in the car and she was like, "why do all of these old folk songs talk about killing people lmao" and i realized i wanted to Talk About It at length.

nerd shit under the cut, and it's long. y'all been warned

so, as y'all probably know, a lot of appalachian folk music grew its roots in scottish folk (and then was heavily influenced by Black folks once it arrived here, but that's a post for another time).

they existed, as most folk music does, to deliver a narrative--to pass on a story orally, especially in communities where literacy was not widespread. their whole purpose was to get the news out there about current events, and everyone loves a good murder mystery!

as an aside, i saw someone liken the murder ballad to a ye olde true crime podcast and tbh, yeah lol.

the "original" murder ballads started back across the pond as news stories printed on broadsheets and penned in such a way that it was easy to put to melody.

they were meant to be passed on and keep the people informed about the goings-on in town. i imagine that because these songs were left up to their original orators to get them going, this would be why we have sooo many variations of old folk songs.

naturally then, almost always, they were based on real events, either sung from an outside perspective, from the killer's perspective and in some cases, from the victim's. of course, like most things from days of yore, they reek of social dogshit. the particular flavor of dogshit of the OG murder ballad was misogyny.

so, the murder ballad came over when the english and scots-irish settlers did. in fact, a lot of the current murder ballads are still telling stories from centuries ago, and, as is the way of folk, getting rewritten and given new names and melodies and evolving into the modern recordings we hear today.

305 such scottish and english ballads were noted and collected into what is famously known as the Child Ballads collected by a professor named francis james child in the 19th century. they have been reshaped and covered and recorded a million and one times, as is the folk way.

while newer ones continued to largely fit the formula of retelling real events and murder trials (such as one of my favorite ones, little sadie, about a murderer getting chased through the carolinas to have justice handed down), they also evolved into sometimes fictional, (often unfortunately misogynistic) cautionary tales.

perhaps the most famous examples of these are omie wise and pretty polly where the woman's death almost feels justified as if it's her fault (big shocker).

but i digress. in this way, the evolution of the murder ballad came to serve a similar purpose as the spooky legends of appalachia did/do now.

(why do we have those urban legends and oral traditions warning yall out of the woods? to keep babies from gettin lost n dying in them. i know it's a fun tiktok trend rn to tell tale of spooky scary woods like there's really more haints out here than there are anywhere else, but that's a rant for another time too ain't it)

so, the aforementioned little sadie (also known as "bad lee brown" in some cases) was first recorded in the 1920s. i'm also plugging my favorite female-vocaist cover of it there because it's superior when a woman does it, sorry.

it is a pretty straightforward murder ballad in its content--in the original version, the guy kills a woman, a stranger or his girlfriend sometimes depending on who is covering it.

but instead of it being a cautionary 'be careful and don't get pregnant or it's your fault' tale like omie wise and pretty polly, the guy doesn't get away with it, and he's not portrayed as sympathetic like the murderer is in so many ballads.

a few decades after, women started saying fuck you and writing their own murder ballads.

in the 40s, the femme fatale trope was in full swing with women flipping the script and killing their male lovers for slights against them instead.

men began to enter the "find out" phase in these songs and paid up for being abusive partners. women regained their agency and humanity by actually giving themselves an active voice instead of just being essentially 'fridged in the ballads of old.

her majesty dolly parton even covered plenty of old ballads herself but then went on to write the bridge, telling the pregnant-woman-in-the-murder-ballad's side of things for once. love her.

as a listener, i realized that i personally prefer these modern covers of appalachian murder ballads sung by women-led acts like dolly and gillian welch and even the super-recent crooked still especially, because there is a sense of reclamation, subverting its roots by giving it a woman's voice instead.

meaning that, like a lot else from the problematic past, the appalachian murder ballad is something to be enjoyed with critical ears. violence against women is an evergreen issue, of course, and you're going to encounter a lot of that in this branch of historical music.

but with folk songs, and especially the murder ballad, being such a foundational element of appalachian history and culture and fitting squarely into the appalachian gothic, i still find them important and so, so interesting

i do feel it's worth mentioning that there are "tamer" ones. with traditional and modern murder ballads alike, some of them are just for "fun," like a murder mystery novel is enjoyable to read; not all have a message or retell a historical trial.

(for instance, i'd even argue ultra-modern, popular americana songs like hell's comin' with me is a contemporary americana murder ballad--being sung by a male vocalist and having evolved from being at the expense of a woman to instead being directed at a harmful and corrupt church. that kind of thing)

in short: it continues to evolve, and i continue to eat that shit up.

anyway, to leave off, lemme share with yall my personal favorite murder ballad which fits squarely into murder mystery/horror novel territory imo.

it's the 10th child ballad and was originally known as "the twa sisters." it's been covered to hell n back and named and renamed.

but! if you listen to any flavor of americana, chances are high you already know it; popular names are "the dreadful wind and rain" and sometimes just "wind and rain."

in it, a jealous older sister pushes her other sister into a river (or stream, or sea, depending on who's covering it) over a dumbass man. the little sister's body floats away and a fiddle maker come upon her and took parts of her body to make a fiddle of his own. the only song the new fiddle plays is the tale about how it came to be, and it is the same song you have been listening to until then.

how's that for genuinely spooky-scary appalachia, y'all?

[incorrectbatfam]

On the subject of Damian and the axolotl, I feel like people do send him pictures of animals and stuff and he gives a rating, idk tho

Stranger: I thought you'd like to know that Lacey had her puppies. *sends a pic*

Damian: For once, a mother who should be proud. 10/10.

———————

Stranger: *sends a derpy cat pic* This is my cat Momo, short for Movie-Theater Mozzarella-Sticks. He just turned 3 and likes to eat pillow feathers.

Damian: Truly the cat of all time. 10/10.

———————

Stranger: I think I saw Krypto the Superdog on my way to work. *sends blurry video of Krypto flying*

Damian: There goes Metropolis's hero. 10/10.

———————

Stranger: *sends a pic of a lizard in a pointy hat* This is King Gizzard, my lizard, as a wizard for Halloween.

Damian: I would give him all my candy. 10/10.

———————

Stranger: *sends a video of their parrot*

The parrot: Polly loves crackers and Damian.

Damian: Tell Polly I love her too. 10/10.

———————

Stranger: Bruh there are so many gophers at Gotham U. *sends pic of gophers chilling in the quad*

Damian: 10/10. Good for them, living their best life.

———————

Stranger: Do fish count? If so here's Bubbles. *sends video of a goldfish*

Damian: They absolutely do. 10/10.

———————

Stranger: I went to my aunt's farm and got to ride the horses. Meet Dash. *sends Instagram story with a horse*

Damian: A fine specimen. 10/10.

———————

Stranger: Opinions on this stingray? *sends scuba diving footage*

Damian: Superb. 10/10.

———————

Stranger: I found a worm. What should I name him? *sends pic*

Damian: He looks like a Kevin. 10/10.

———————

Stranger: This is me and my stepdad with the hens we've been raising. *sends pic*

Damian: What lovely ladies. 10/10.

———————

Stranger: I went to a butterfly garden today. *sends video of a butterfly landing on their hand*

Damian: Stunning. 10/10.

———————

Stranger: I just got back from a safari. *sends album of savannah herds*

Damian: Next time take me with you. 10/10.

———————

Stranger: *sends a Ratatouille GIF*

Damian: Don't tell my family but I'm training my rats to do the same. 10/10 by the way.

———————

Stranger: This is Herbie, our class bunny. *sends a pic with the teacher fumbling in the background*

Damian: He looks more intelligent than your teacher. 10/10.

———————

Stranger: *sends pic* Got bored and bought a frog. I'm naming him Toad.

Damian: I hope your life is as dull as ever. 10/10.

———————

Stranger: Tzu Tzu keeps leaving her laundry everywhere. *sends video of a snake shedding its skin*

Damian: You're her assistant. Do your job. 10/10.

———————

Stranger: I finally got a hamster!! *sends video*

Damian: Now treat them like royalty and get yourself some tubing. 10/10.

———————

Stranger: Ideas for decorating my hermit crab's shell? For context his name is Juan and he likes the color yellow. *sends pic*

Damian: I suggest black and gold. 10/10.

———————

Stranger: I saw a turtle on my morning walk. *sends a pic*

Damian: Ethereal. 10/10.

———————

Bruce: *sends a family photo*

Damian: *blocks and reports*

[ferg0s]

Barou starting a new relationship with a shy girl and how he would go about it

The literal personification of trying to mix oil with water

He was used to everyone looking at him in times of need on the field - he was the king after all - so he didn’t even notice how you would take a step back whenever it came time to ordering food, or any sort of public speaking and interactions.

He naturally took the lead, and you followed suit. Thanking the lord.

He honestly didn’t even notice how shy you were- he just kinda assumed you like hearing him talk. It wasn’t until he passed by an aisle of cute keychains and decided that he wanted to get you one when he realized… he kinda didn’t know anything about you.

I mean he did. He knew your name, your height…. The colour of your eyes…. And hair… and…

“So what do you do?” He asked bluntly as the two of you walked down a park, ice creams in hand. The one he ordered. “What?” “Hobbies? Sports? What do you do in your spare time?” He asked as he looked at you, determined to get an answer. “You know… the usual stuff-“ you awkwardly chuckle. “I don’t know actually.” He was a little shit about it.

But after literally interrogating you for an entire hour, he managed to squeeze out an answer from you. You were completely cornered by him, and you shyly tell him your hobbies. He looks dumbfounded, because to him those are completely normal and healthy hobbies for someone to have. He was starting to think you’re a grave robber by the way you were acting.

Knitting? He will get you the yarn, and parade a scarf you made for him and show all his teammates. Collecting something? He will always be on the lookout for what you like, even going as far as asking his teammates to be on the lookout as well. Video games? He will learn to play your favourite game with you. Cute farming sim? Silent hill? Niche indie game that only 3 people know about? You best bet he will ask for a 4 hour lore deep dive.

Very supportive.

Lwokey will get annoyed at your shyness at one point.

At first he thinks it’s cute, but he’s not the type of person to fully baby anyone, and will force you to order your own meal. He wants the best for you :(

Will say his order and look at you to say yours, watching you stumble on your words as you try to order some fries and a sprite. And will say he’s proud of you after. But doesn’t do it often because he can see the genuine terror in your eyes - only does it even it’s the two of you in line on a slow day.

Slowly learns to accept that you’re passionate in your own way. He’s loud and proud, whereas you like to keep to yourself. In a way he likes that you’re so open with him, that you let him see the stuff you don’t show other people. Thinks it’s adorable.

Will 100% try to make you more comfortable and less shy. You bought a new dress and don’t want to wear it, he will bluntly tell you it looks good and it would be a waste of money not to wear it.

Encourages your fashion choices. Polly pocket platform heels? He loves them. Bold lipstick? He will buy you earring that match. He quietly realized he liked seeing you happy. And you were happiest being yourself.

He’s not a big fan of grossly obvious PDA. Loves holding your hand or when you grab his bicep when you two walk together. You like it because it doesn’t draw unnecessary attention and he likes it cuz you’re always attached next to him and he doesn’t have to worry about actually loosing you. Plus he likes it when you grab his bicep.

Took forever to convince you to come to one of his games. You were too nervous to get into an arena with so many people - said you could come with a group of his teammates girlfriends - but you hated the idea of being with people you didn’t know.

He got really good at spotting you in the crowd. Didn’t matter where you were sitting, he just trained himself to see you. You were too shy to loudly cheer like everyone else, blending into the crowd due to that. But it didn’t matter.

In a weird way. He likes that hes the only one who gets to see you this happy, because hes the same with you. Slowly learning to take his guard down, be more open.

You’re learning to be confident while he’s learning to be trusting.

[kadwrites]

different yet the same | T.S

previous part | next part

or check out the series masterlist

summary ; nothing stays the same, but how can you explain that to the people you love?

warnings ; arranged marriage!trope, soft!tommy, reader has a voice kink? idk, typos probably, reader likes starting shit, REALLY slow burn.

a/n ; let me know what you think<3, also keep in mind that my first language is not english <3

-

you felt like you were overheating, his hand was barely even touching your lower back but you could definitely feel it. he led you back to the office, to grab his coat , where he finally stepped away from you.

"ya didn't 'ave to do that" you needed to cut the tension

"do what?" he was putting on his coat

"fire 'er."

he stopped in his place , looking back at you with a raised brow "you'd rather i keep 'er ?"

you really wouldn't "i mean...." you trail off, trying to find the right words

he steps closer, until he's right before you. a little too close maybe "what do ya mean?" his voice is soft and deep.

it really didn't help you , that his voice had that much of an affect on you. "would ya've fired 'er if she spoke this way to anyone else ?"

"like who?"

"i don't know, anyone else." you repeat your words

"but she didn't say that to anyone else" his gaze was so intense, it felt like you couldn't take your own eyes off his "she said it to you"

he then took a step past you before you spoke again "did ya do it because she offended me or was it because it might've hurt your reputation?"

he stops again and sighs when he closes his eyes , he turns "why are ya fightin' me on this?"

"i'm not!" you chuckle "i'm just wonderin'..."

"well stop wonderin' , we got shit to do. let's go" he motions with his hand and heads for the door, you huff and follow him.

but your questions don't stop there. once you're in the car , you're back at it and with more resilience.

"why 'aven't i met your family yet?" you're in the passenger seat, your arms crossed as he drives

"jesus fucking christ" he mumbles, a cigarette hanging from his mouth "what's gotten into ya today , eh?" he glances at you

"what? i'm just trying to make conversation" you try to sound as innocent as you can.

"ya've met polly, 'ave't ya?" he takes a drag of his cigarette, smoke blowing in the air "there ya go, she's family."

"polly doesn't count , i knew 'er as a child. before i knew ya."

"she's my aunt , how does she not count?" his brows furrow and he laughs

"ya've brothers, and a sister, and sisters in law." you're not giving up, "ya've met my family already , why don't ya want me to meet yours?"

"i barely did" he looks at you , then back at the road "they don't exactly like my company now , do they?"

"they're shy!"

he looks at you with a half smile, as if asking you if you're serious "really?"

"come on tommy, i'm serious. how am i going to marry into a family that i don't know?"

"you're not marrying my family are ya? you're marrying me"

"tommy" you click your tongue

"why do ya want to meet them so badly?"

"i just..... i've always wanted to be close to my husband's family when i'd get married."

he sighs , looking back at the road "it'll take time for them to warm up to ya and they're hardly as polite as your lovely family is" he mumbles with a sarcastic tone

"probably" you nod "but i do want to meet them"

"fine, don't say i 'aven't warned ya." he sighs again, "i'll see what i can do"

"mum says that thomas shelby proposed to ya" sarah and amy are in your room, they're celest's daughters.

"mhm" you're still in bed and they're beside you. your sister's children are rascals, just like their mom they, don't knock when they come in, they lay in your bed with you and wake you up whenever they're bored. you're eyes are still closed when you mumble, not that it would stop them from pestering you. you try to hang on to any crumb of sleep you can get.

"can we see the ring?" amy asks , you can hear the smile in her voice.

you raise your hand, wiggling your ring finger. at her.

you tried to keep this whole thing from them, to not let them know what really happened. they're smarter than you think though. after all , sarah is already 14 and amy is 13. they already have an idea, they just never wanted to bring it up.

"oh my god..." amy's voice is filled with excitement and a little bit of disbelief "is this a real diamond?"

"of course it fucking is." you grumble. you turn, so you're laying on your side but facing them now

"are ya happy?" sarah pulls the covers, getting under them next to you

"why wouldn't i be ?" you chuckle sleepily "i'm gonna be fucking rich" you wiggle your brows

they both chuckle with you, but they are still looking at you with a type of look, and you know what it meant.

"mum says that his house is far , that we wouldn't see ya as often." amy mumbles

"your mum is dramatic. of course ya will." you reassured them, but the thing is you didn't even know how life would be after your wedding. "ya're not getting rid of me that easy."

"are ya nervous?"

"a little bit yeah" you shrugs "but it's normal, your mum was nervous too ya know? she'd cry every time she saw me." you say with a snort "and look at 'er, she still comes over every other day."

"but that's different isn't it?" amy dares to ask

"what is different?" you ask softly

"everything is going to be different" she mutters and you can feel your heart crack at that "this wedding is different, you're marrying ... 'im, and moving away, and it'll be different." her voice cracks, and she looks away

"nothing is going to be different amy..." you get up, and scoot next to them "but even if things change i'll still be me, ya'll still 'ave me"

sarah leans her head on your shoulder "i'll miss ya"

you look at her then at amy, "aww , hey now" you hug her, laughing as you kiss her head "i'm not going anywhere," you speak into her hair

-

taglist ; @tardisloverz , @optimisticsandwichgladiator, @theshelbyslimited , @illuminwtesz , @goldensunflowe-r , @gruffle1 , @warrior-of-justice , @mgdixon , @babayaga67 , @goblinjnr , @justaproudslytherpuff , @budugu , @twlegit , @amberpanda99 , @aesthetic0cherryblossom , @capswife , @lets-turn-and-burn , @affabletimelady , @edencherries , @globetrotter28 , @eg-dr3amer3 , @sadroses98 , @aliceindrugland

[dilf-issues]

Your Eyes Tell: 3 | T.S

Synopsis: Tommy could never accept a whore to love. But he did anyways, however his ego and pride might be the death of him.

Chapter Summary: Tommy is trying his best however, his efforts might not be noticed when an American mercenary meddles in their lives.

Warnings: None?

A/N: SPECIAL APPEARANCE BY CHRIS EVAN’s STEVE ROGERS WHOOOO. It’s my fic I can do whatever I want even if it means connecting two universes in one. Everything is non-canon. Should I change it to Thomas Shelby x Reader x Steve Rogers? Lol 🤨

PART 1 | PART 2

.

Y/N's once vibrant life had faded into a gray, monotonous existence. The colors of the world seemed muted, the laughter and joy of others an alien sound. The mere act of getting through the day had become a battle against her own mind, her thoughts constantly haunted by the memories of her lost baby. She longed for a way out, a ray of sunlight to penetrate the darkness that enveloped her soul, but the weight of grief and despair held her fast, refusing to loosen its grip.

Tommy had changed. He had changed completely, well, at least it was with her. He was still the same terrifying man in the Peaky Blinders. People had still feared him, and now they had feared approaching Y/N too.

Tommy had never put her under Peaky Blinder’a protection, he thought it wasn’t necessary. However, now, if any man or woman would as much as lay a single finger on her they would make their maker and Tommy wasn’t going to make it easy and smooth either, he would make them suffer.

These past few weeks, Tommy had tried everything to lift her spirits. He spent countless hours trying to cheer her up, showering her with words of encouragement and reassurances. He planned romantic dates and surprised her with small gestures of affection, hoping to bring back a glimpse of the woman he had fallen in love with. But no matter his efforts, the cloud of her depression remained over her, seemingly impenetrable, as if the very mention of the word ‘happiness’ was a foreign concept to her anguished heart.

Every time Tommy wanted to take her somewhere, she would refuse but Tommy never gave up he still tried. However, Polly had assured him that sooner or later she would move on but it would take some time. The once impatient man suddenly felt like he had all the time in the world

Tommy was is his office, as he always is--when he heard a a soft knock coming from his door, “Come in!” He grumbled as the door slowly opened.

“What?” Tommy questioned nonchalantly, his eyes never leaving the papers he was reading over.

“T-Tommy”

His heart had seemingly dropped at the voice that he recognized so well, for some reason his heart was pounding in his chest as he felt chills coarse through his body. It’s been a while since he heard her call his name.

“My love...” He breathed out, stopping whatever he was doing as he immediately stood up and walked towards her, leaning over his desk as he gestured for her to take a seat, “Is everything, alright? Is there anything that I can do? Anything?”

His voice had sounded so soft, hopeful, laced with a hint of happiness when he had heard her voice. Something she still wasn’t used to. Tommy sounded like this for the first few months she had met him but for some reason, his demeanor quickly changed as the years went by.

“I w-was thinking...” Her voice that were once soft, was now husky. She had spent so much time screaming and crying that her voice had changed but that didn’t make her any less beautiful in Tommy’s eyes, “I want to cook in the Garrison a-again”

His eyes softened at her request. He wanted so badly to impose, he wanted her to stay at home and continue to heal. Heal everything from her mind and her body. However, there was no danger if she wanted to continue working at the Garrison, it was filled with his men, and anything that happened to her, Tommy would end the world. Burn everything down to the ground if anybody tried to touch her.

“I’ll make the Garrison yours, love. If that’s what you want, you can do anything with it. You can bake again? Remember? You used to love to bake ur meat pies and everyone loved them” Tommy acknowledged, he remembered those days when Y/N would cook for everyone and they loved it. Tommy just wished he appreciated her meals more.

“No... I just want to do some work, make myself useful... And I’m sure Harry wouldn’t be too happy” The reason why she was keen on working in the Garrison is because she is trying to distract herself. Nobody knew about it but every night she couldn’t sleep due to the nightmares she was getting from what happened to her. She just felt so tired of having the same thing replaying in her mind over and over again, maybe if she kept herself busy, everything would be okay.

“Harry doesn't mind, I can make sure of that” Tommy protested, however, Y/N shook her head at his offer, “Well, fine then... I guess I can make some arrangements with Harry. If that makes you happy, it’ll make me happy”

Tommy had reached out, wanting to embrace her in his arms but Y/N flinched at the sudden contact, making Tommy stop in his tracks.

“I’m sorry, love... I shouldn't have done that” In his mind, he was disappointed and his heart was broken. He pushed his feelings away as he softly smiled at her.

Y/N turned around without saying anything else, leaving Tommy all alone with his thoughts.

He sighed as he pinched the bridge of his nose, it seems like every day the only thing he could feel...

…Was regret.

.

“Uh… alright Y/N, just do whatever you want, yeah? But don’t push yourself too much” Harry mumbled, avoiding her eyes. It was unusual for Harry to treat her this way, however, his mind recalled back at what happened yesterday.

HARRY’S FLASHBACK.

“You be fucking nice to her, yeah? If not I’ll fucking kill your granny and shove her dead body in your mouth”

We could all guess who had said that to him.

END OF FLASHBACK.

Y/N simply nodded, patting down her apron as she wiped the bar clean. They were opening in a few minutes and she felt at home. Being here in the Garrison made her feel so much better and she was in her element.

Y/N shuffled through the pub, her figure blending into the shadows. The patrons, most of whom were locals, glanced up briefly, their gazes lingering for a moment before returning to their drinks. She could hear their whispers. talking about the incident and Tommy. Y/N found her place behind the bar, her usual expression replaced by a mask of friendliness. She was uncomfortable with the gaze and people talking about her but she stayed positive either way. As the day wore on and the pub filled, the patrons grew more raucous, their conversations and laughter filling the air. Y/N mechanically poured drinks and served customers, her eyes never lingering on any one person, almost as if she were simply going through the motions.

As the Y/N was swiftly wiping down the counter, an unfamiliar voice cut through the noise of the pub. Not only that, his accent was different. He was an American. She looked up to see a man she hadn’t seen before. The man who had ordered a drink was tall, with a chiseled jaw and a certain air about him that she couldn’t describe. He was certainly a looker, she wouldn’t deny that. His blond hair was styled in a neat way, framing his intense blue eyes. He sported a worn pair of jeans and a fitted T-shirt, the casual clothing contrasting with the hard look in his eyes. She glanced down on the necklace hanging on his neck, he was wearing a dog tag.

His gaze fixed on her with a strange curiosity. He ordered a drink, his voice smooth and polite. For a moment, Y/N’s apathy was disrupted, a flicker of curiosity flashing across her face as she caught his gaze before she quickly masked her expression and began pouring the drink.

“Hi, I’m Steve” Y/N, who had been lost in her own thoughts, looked up as the man introduced himself. His sudden greeting caught her off guard, her expression betraying a hint of surprise before it settled back into its usual apathetic mask. She simply nodded in acknowledgment and hummed.

“Um… Hi, nice to meet you. You’re not from around here” She cuts straight to the chase, her curiosity getting the best of her. She had never seen a foreigner before and as everyone knew she always had a childlike curiosity.

Steve chuckled, “You don’t beat around the bush, do you?” She blushed, looking down as she felt slightly embarrassed by imposing on him. “Yes, I’m from Brooklyn actually”

No wonder it had sounded nice in her ears, Y/N didn’t know why but Steve’s voice sounded like the ones you hear on the news or movies. He seemed... Perfectly American.

“I’ve never met an American before” She muttered shyly, wiping down on the spot that had already been cleaned to make herself seem busy. Steve smiled softly as he tilted his head at her.

“Well, I’m glad I’m your first” She had stopped in her tracks, no longer wiping the counter as she felt the heat rush to her cheeks. Steve merely grinned at her reaction, taking a sip of his drink as he watched her with an amused expression on his face.

Suddenly, Harry lightly tapped on her shoulder and leaned into her ears “Alright love, get back to work yeah? I don’t think Tommy will be too happy if he sees you talking to another man”

Y/N was shocked. She wasn’t shocked at what Harry had said, instead, she was shocked at how he had said it.

“Tommy doesn’t own me now, does he?” Y/N uttered nonchalantly, filling the next customer's order as Harry trailed behind her.

“Well, he doesn’t own you but you are sure his. Just don’t make this hard for me, alright? I don’t want him to kill me in my sleep” Harry shuddered at the thought of Tommy burying him right next to his already-dead granny.

Y/N sighed deeply as she nodded and Harry smiled widely, holding his two thumbs up. She rolled her eyes, is the verge of death what it takes for people to be kind to her?

“So, will I ever get your name?” Steve questioned, catching her attention once again.

“I can’t talk to you in here...” She muttered cautiously as Steve raised his eyebrows in curiosity.

“Oh... Let me guess, you have a husband? My bad, it wasn’t my intention” Y/N’s shoulders dropped disappointingly, she wouldn’t say it out loud but he did want it to be his intention.

“He’s not... My husband...” She grumbled quietly.

Steve chuckled, “Well, then... That means I can still see you around?”

She returned a soft smile at him, she knew she shouldn’t but there was something about Steve that seemed so... Pure. She had never seen anything like it. He was nice and polite, he was the exact opposite of who Tommy was.

“Sure, I’m always here,” She said softly as Steve threw him an adorable grin. She had never seen a man smiled like that before, Tommy barely smiled.

“Great… I can’t miss the chance to know your name”

.

A/N: HHEHEHE DRAMA BOUTO COME UP

[poppyflower-22]

Charles Leclerc

(These are just small discerptions that explain the one shot or parts as shortly as possibly)

I just find this so cute.

Still adding!

Fluff:

It seems Charles and reader have another son. Feat Ollie. HERE

Reader is a single mom. But Charles is in it from the start. HERE

* Charle's adopts Oscar. Feat Ollie being the best son. Humor. HERE

Bearman reader. When Ollie gets into F1 for just one race, his sister is there. She has always been there. Charles and reader being cute and Ollie being the cute sibling. HERE

Leclerc sister. Reader is going out, much to her brother's misery. HERE

* Hornor reader. Charles thought he would spend forever in Ferrari, but reader makes him see through the fake promise. Red Bull Charles. HERE

Charles wins and what better way celebrate then with the princess of Monaco. HERE

Sainz reader. A game of never have I ever has Charles running for his life and the rest of the grid. HERE

Reader gets jealous of Leo until he becomes a mama's boy. HERE

Social Media:

* Reader makes friendship bracelets and gives them out at the races. Everyone wants one. Everyone. Fans love her. HERE

Wolf reader. They are the modern Romeo and Juliet but with a happy ending. Feat Jack at the end. HERE

sports commentator reader. Reader is a Mecedes fan and Charels tries to make you switch teams. HERE

Sturniolo reader. Age gap. Hate comments. HERE

McLaren admin actress reader. HERE

Verstappen reader. Max didn't know until there went public. HERE

Horner reader. Reader releases a song, but her last relationship was four years ago. So, who is the new song about? HERE

Reader is a knitter and makes clothes. Feat Lewis the fashion icon. HERE

Hornor reader. Driver. Red Bull didn't give her seat, so Ferrier did instead. HERE.

With F1 couples breaking up, fans try to protect one of the last standing ones. No breakup. HERE

Verstappen reader. With Checo retiring. Who will take his seat? Humor. HERE

Another knitting reader. HERE

* Verstappen reader. Driver. Enemies to lovers. Protective brother Max. HERE

Actress reader. Fans see your chemistry with your new co start and love it, Charles on the hand. Dose not. HERE

Vettel reader. Now Seb isn't on the grid, everyone team wants her to cheer them on. Though Charles takes it a step further. HERE

Reader releases a new song fan can't help but think it's about a certain F1 driver. HERE

In The Middle:

Master list of all different Charles one shots. HERE

Charles is dating the princess of Monaco, but people don't believe him. HERE

Reader is sick and they find out the only person to save her is her unknown brother. Raeder is a Verstappen. Abandoned Verstappen. Sick reader. Royalty reader. HERE

Ferrari reader. Things need to change, and Charles calls you for help. HERE

Charles with witch reader. Charles breaks the Monaco curse. HERE

Series:

Engineer Reader. Social media. Part 1, HERE. Part 2, HERE.

Reader decides to hard Lauch her relationship and people react badly. Age gap. Australian reader. Hurt/comfort. People are hating on reader. Part 1, HERE. Part 2, HERE. Part 3, HERE

Leclerc sister. Full series. HERE

Full series. Charles is the ex-boyfriend. Ends with Aarron Taylor-Johnston at the end. HERE

Polly/Lando:

The boys love language seems to be polar opposites. Social media. HERE

* Max Verstappen's half-sister. Link is to the end of the series, but all chapters there. HERE. (My favorite serries)

The boys forget to get reader for their trip. She makes them grovel. Social media. HERE

Polly/Max:

F1 commenter. With recent interview people are picking sides. But maybe they don't have to. Social media. HERE

No one considered polyamory before branding the reader a slut. Social Media. HERE

Polly/ Alexandra Saint Mleux:

Obsessive exes. Slight Social media. HERE

Charles and Alex get clingy when reader is away. Partly Social media. Part 1, HERE, Part 2, HERE

You three raised your daughter together and now its time to show the world. HERE

Alex and Charles are public and not with Reader. Reader starts feeling left out. Leo is Reader's dog. But maybe it's too late. Max being a good friend. Hurt/Comfort. Made me cry a little. HERE

Dark/Possessive:

He is yours and you are his. Dark Charles. Babby trapping. Social media in part 2. Jealous. Smut. Part 1, HERE. Part 2, HERE

Smut:

Dinner with friends, turns into Charles reminding you, you are his. HERE

<><><><>

[mistress-riddle]

𝐒𝐀𝐅𝐄 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐒𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐃. tommy shelby.

✐ 𝙝𝙚𝙖𝙙 𝙩𝙤 𝙣𝙖𝙫𝙞𝙜𝙖𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣

❧ cw. typical violence, alcohol consumption, mentions of a child almost getting blown up, the usual 🤷🏻‍♀️

❧ r. I was wondering if I could request one where she happens to be back at the house/betting shop at the time when the Lees destroy it and the fact that the Lees still did that with there being a woman, let alone the woman who is his significant other, in the shop really infuriates Tommy when he comes back to see that she’d been affected by it. I’ll leave it up to you for how you want to end it. ☺️ — @runnning-outof-time

"ooh, where are you heading?" you ask polly who places a hat on top of her head and she sends you a smile as you greet her. she means to answer but tommy joins your side and interrupts her by asking "where's john?"

"john's at the garrison," she informs and tommy's brows furrow "says he wants a meeting about a family matter." you hear him sigh and so you put your hand on his shoulder and he gives you a look of exasperation.

"easy tommy, he just wants a meeting, not to overthrow the government."

"and well, we know he'd do that himself." polly remarks and you snicker in response, she purses her lips in return "besides, he'll say his piece and he'll be back to take his place with scudboat." her nephew merely rolls his eyes and shakes his head in disbelief.

"scudboat, john will be here in ten minutes." polly declares and walks away, fixing her gloves on her way out to the garrison.

"five." tommy corrects before following her, but he stops halfway and turns to you "you coming?"

"i'll stay, still haven't had breakfast." you tell him and point over to scudboat "he might also need some help counting."

tommy stares for a few seconds before nodding "i'll be back soon, love."

.

he walks out and you take a seat at scudboat's table continuing his counting as he locks up. having two people deal with the work quickened the pace and soon the two of you were done. you leaned back in your seat.

"would you like something from the kitchen, scudboat?" you follow your question with some offers "tea or some biscuits?"

he nods "tea would be nice, miss." you shoot him a smile as you get up however you're stopped from actually walking to the kitchen as the instant you stand, the doors bust open. almost like instinct, you see scudboat pull out what you presume is a gun from the side of your eye and you freeze in your spot with both arms raised in surrender.

"put that down!" you hear one of the men order and around 2-3 men with weapons circle scudboat and restrain him whilst you face the end of a barrel.

"this is for cheltham." a man with a gypsy accent and bandages covering his right ear announces as he moves his aim from you to scudboat and you hold back a groan. of course tommy angered the lee family during his visit to the races, of fucking course "we're just taking back what's ours." he drives the end of the gun to scudboat's face, effectively dropping him to the floor.

he then turns to you once more "where are the loots, huh?" he asks gruffly and you withhold a grimace.

"i don't what you're talking about." you respond, annoyed at the entire situation you were left in.

"come on, you're tommy's girl, are you not? he must've told you where they are." a scoff escapes your lips and you roll your eyes, arms crossing before your chest.

"what makes you think that?" you cock your head to the side, eyes widening in an innocent expression "i only work here to serve the men drinks and clean up."

the man lets out a hoarse laugh and clutches your face in his hold "don't mess with me, i know who you are." your face drops and you hold his gaze.

"then you must know that tommy will have your head if he so much as sees a scar on me?" you threaten softly and his grip loosens "or are you as stupid as you look, i mean you must be because who in their right mind would steal from the peaky blinders?--" you're stopped by a slap across your face.

"fuck you," he spits in your direction, probably realising that you won't give up information and are only wasting time, stalling for the shelby's return. you don't react, however, eyes staring daggers as he orders his men "search everywhere!" he tells them and they leave scudboat to fall on the floor to disperse around the betting shop, flipping the place all over in search of what the peaky blinders retrieved. you slip away during their distraction and kneel beside the injured man.

"i'm sorry" you whisper, reaching for a cloth on a nearby table to dab at the deep wound on his temple. it didn't take long for the men to leave, laughing as you hear something clunk against a table and within a few minutes, finn walks through the kitchen, his stroll halted at the sight of you and scudboat crouched on the floor.

"finn!" you call the boy and he runs to you, worry in his eyes "go and call your brothers, tell them to hurry here." you pat his cheek softly once he's close enough and with a nod, he races of to the garrison. you pull a fallen chair and stand it up right, helping scudboat on the chair.

"love," you hear tommy's voice before you see him "are you alright?" he asks and you leave scudboat as tommy gathers you in his arms, a kiss pressed against the crown of your head, and you inhale his familiar scent of cigarettes, whiskey and a mix of cologne.

"what the bloody hell happened here?" arthur asks from somewhere behind you and scudboat answers him as john surveys the betting shop, feet stomping in anger.

"tommy, i'm fine" you reassure him, patting his chest as you pull away. the slap was nothing as far as you were concerned "however, they took what they could find, sorry we couldn't do anything about it, they were all armed."

tommy shakes his head at you "fuck that, what matters is you're alright." he places a kiss on your forehead once more before detaching from you to scan the place. you turn to see arthur tending to scudboat (serving him alcohol, you note with a chuckle) and instead choose to stand beside polly who reaches a hand out to hold your own.

"your cheek's red." you see the dissatisfied expression she's wearing and tap her hand.

"polly, i'm fine, don't worry." whatever she intends to say dies down her throat as tommy approaches the centre of the room, wire cutters held in his hand.

"they left these." he shows the people in the room the tool and you and polly share a confused look.

"wire cutters?" the older woman questions.

"what for?" you ask and hesitate when you see the alarm quickly taking over the shelby brothers faces.

"nobody move." arthur instructs but you furrow your eyebrows at him.

"i think our friends are playing the game." your confusion turns to tommy instead and you feel the frustration rising at the lack of explanation.

"what game?" polly asks, putting away the cash box she picked up earlier with her free hand and john stops her from continuing "aunt pol, don't touch anything." he pleads.

"erasmus lee was in france."

"an explanation would be grand since not all of us were in said france." you snap, anxiety at its peak.

"when we gave up ground to the germans," tommy begins, looking straight into your eyes "we'd leave behind booby traps set up with wires. then we'd leave wire cutters, it's part of the joke." you let out a laugh of disbelief.

"somewhere in here there's a hand grenade attached to a wire." john declares and you shake your head.

"holy jesus."

"but we've all moved and touched multiple things in the room, surely it would've gone off by now," you surmise, nibbling on your lip and you catch sight of tommy's pensive face "and there aren't any obvious wires here, they couldn't have stayed long enough to set it either." you clarify.

"you're right," tommy nods "the bullet's in my name. he set up a trap intended for me specifically." you hold his gaze and see the pieces click in his brain and soon he walks out of the house.

everyone pauses and they look at you "the car!" you exclaim and follow after him, leaving the shelby's and scudboat behind.

you lift your dress up and catch up to tommy, bumping slightly into him, just to find his arm extended, talking to someone in his car. the person he's softly talking to causes your heart to drop to your stomach.

"finn," he calls out "stay exactly where you are." you raise a hand to cover your mouth and try to steady your fast beating heart.

"i was pretending i was you." finn giggles and you feel something stab into your heart, tommy leaves you behind as he slowly inches towards his baby brother.

"which door did you open to come in, finn?" tommy asks him and you can hear the panic in his voice.

"i didn't, i climbed in."

"i want you to climb out exactly the same way you climbed in, okay?" tommy approaches even closer, getting to the right side of the car.

"listen to your brother, finn." you call out from the entrance of the garage but finn merely giggles and opens the door anyways.

"NO!"

"FINN!"

you run towards the boy, arms open to cover his small body and tommy quickly retracts the bomb from the car and throws it outside into the streets, yelling a "clear!" as he discards it. you feel him shortly join your embrace afterwards as it goes off.

once he deems it safe to assess the damage, you both walk together with finn holding onto both your hands and tommys. a collective sigh of relief escapes you two before tommy drops down to face finn, holding the boy's face in his hands "this is why you should never pretend to be me."

you watch tommy hug finn who still tightly clung to your hand and tommy looks into your eyes once again, relief washing over them and you send him a tired smile.

"come on finn, how about we go get you some sweets huh?" you ask the boy and he nods eagerly. tommy ruffles his hair and gives him another short hug before letting him leave with you.

once you get home, finn full of sweets and no longer ruffled, you prepare a bathe before you settle in bed. you allow your restless body to finally relax and soak in the warmth of the tub. around half an hour later you wrap your hair in a cloth to absorb the water that still clung to your tresses and apply your moisturiser. your fingers pause when you hear your door open suddenly and in an instant you grab the closest thing beside you and hold it in the direction of the intruder.

"very effective weapon, dear." you look at the item in your hand and let out a scoff/laugh.

"wouldn't need to think about having a weapon if it weren't for your lifestyle." you argue and tommy scoffs in return, busy removing his shoes and outwear.

"[name], you're a woman who lives alone in small heath of all places." the look he sends you makes you snort "even if you had nothing to do with me, you wouldn't be that safe."

"that's wonderful to hear actually, will go to bed feeling safe and sound." you deadpan and he sits himself on your bed, watching as you get back to working the moisturiser into your skin.

"of course, always happy to let my woman know she's safe and protected." you toss one of your powder brushes at him and he easily catches it with a laugh.

"come here already," he beckons you and with a roll of your eyes, you join him under the covers.

"i need you to know that i won't ever let anything harm you," he says once you settle in his arms, eyes gazing into yours "truly."

"i know." you peck his lips before resting your head on his collarbone, he picks up your "weapon" and flicks through the pages to continue from the last time he stopped.

"erasmus has been dealt with and i hope you're ready for a wedding," just as you began to feel the embers of sleep take a hold of you, you peek your eyes open.

"oh no thomas, what'd you do?"

"don't you worry your pretty little head about it."

you roll your eyes at him once more and huff out a breath of irritation "fine, but if polly ever complains to me about this i'm kicking you out of my house and you'll have no access to my books."

"you like me too much to get rid of me, love."

"i'll be the judge of that." you close your eyes once more and drift off to sleep, but not before you feel a kiss against the top of your head.

[friesforfreedom]

I believe that after gaining amnesia in 2-1, Phoenix just starts to forget small tasks and simple things like chores. Because canonically the next case Phoenix has after the amnesia one is 3-2 with Ron DeLite. One thing I noticed during that case is that Phoenix cleans the toilet a lot, which could be seen as him being a germaphobe. Although, I want to believe that since it’s such a simple task, Phoenix doesn’t remember cleaning the toilet before, resulting in a very clean toilet. I also believe that he wouldn’t notice that he’s accidentally cleaned it like 5 times until someone actually calls him out on it.

The problem is that most of the people close to him would probably just brush over it, assuming he just likes things clean. Apollo and Athena are definitely some of those people. Since they are usually the ones cleaning the toilet in the future, they probably just assume that Phoenix either really likes cleanliness (which is definitely not apparent from the rest of the office) or he’s giving them busy work. Phoenix on the other hand doesn’t even remember asking them to clean it in the first place, but doesn’t want to back down his stance and admit his fault (if he remembers at least).

Maya is one of the only people who can call Phoenix out because she’s the only one who really knows about the amnesia. She’ll be like, “Nick, you already did that 3 times!” Or “Nick, stop making your employees clean that toilet, it’s gonna get bleach stains!”

Trucy can also call him out, but she does it in a very nonchalant manner, mainly being like, “Daddy, I think you already cleaned that before.” Or “Don’t worry Daddy! Polly and Athena already cleaned it an hour ago!” Basically she remarks it in a way that it would feel like idle chatter.

I feel like Phoenix would also do this with other tasks, but in the opposite way. Instead he’ll be planning to do something simple, but amnesia kicks in and he can’t remember a single thing in that moment. Which wouldn’t be a problem, but it would probably also consist of eating certain meals every once in a while. While Phoenix has the full intent to actually eat, it might just slip his mind and he may not remember until he’s nearly starving. This wouldn’t happen as often though, it would probably be most prominent during the 7yg and when he’s working on stressful cases.

Edgeworth on the other hand doesn’t really have a stance on the whole thing. Of course he loves a nice, clean toilet, but he also likes when Phoenix can remember to feed himself. Once he finally catches onto the cause of why Phoenix does all of it, he starts to call him out too. He would say it a little more bluntly than Trucy, so that Phoenix can catch on that he didn’t simply forget it. Although, that doesn’t stop Miles from banning Phoenix from cooking without supervision. Because if Phoenix walks away from it for a second, there’s a huge chance he may not remember to come back. But the 3 of them have a great time cooking together anyway, so Phoenix doesn’t mind.

TLDR: Phoenix Wright has amnesia with simple tasks. This causes him to either repeat certain tasks many times, or completely forget to do them altogether. Only few of his loved ones have the mind to call him out on it though.

[wutheringcaterpillar]

A Bump In The Night: Part 5- The End

Summary: With the baby growing, it is becoming to difficult to hide it anymore. Threats were made, Pol hardly even batting an eye at you still worried sick about Michael. Meanwhile Lizzie still has her intentions and is willing to make a bargain with the devil himself in order to ensure Tommy is hers, and James is yours as it should have always been. The only thing is, they don't realize Tommy is and will always be one step ahead and has plans of his own, he knows how to press people to tell the truth.

Warnings: Kidnapping, incest, pregnancy, mentions of arranged marriage, violence, assault, non consensual touching, guns

Taglist: taglist: @calmingmelody96 @sunflower-tia @haydenpookiebear @star017 @sweetcheesecakesblog @mamawiggers1980 @calam-arii

3 months prior

"Oh for godsake Thomas" Polly rushed through the kitchen like a bat out of hell in disbelief that thing could get any worse, anymore disturbing what in the fuck were you thinking! She slammed her hands down on the wooden table, spitting her venomous words with such vile and anger.

"She will marry James! Word will get out about the two of you fucking in that filth riddled forbidden bedroom! Enough people know already! You can't marry her! It isn't right and neither is that rotted fruit in the womb! Are you out of your god damn righteous mind because I will help the both of you find it!" You cowered in your seat shamefully, your feelings hurt while your heart was racing about ready to burst out of your chest. How could someone that you love say such hateful words about he r own kin? Yes it was wrong but the child bared no play in this family affair.

Tommy stood their clenching his jaw, an animalistic anger widening his blue eyes as he noticed your lip quivering. You hated conflict he needed to remind himself and Pol of that but she was too far gone to hear anything he had to say, there was only when option which was to level the playing field.

"She will not marry him! You want to know why Pol, eh? You want to know why?" Spit was flying from between his lips, anger rising and pumping and in his chest. He flicked his cigarette in Polly's tea, slamming a fist at one of the cabinets.

"She is pregnant with my child! Those boys, those Birmingham low life fucking scum don't give a fuck about her! But I do! I will not throw her or our child in harms way. So with the utmost, tumultuous disrespect go on and fuck yourself as far as your bastard of a son goes. You bring up one more word about my unborn child I will ensure Michael will never been seen or heard again, and I will blow all of us up in this fucking house and if you want to play me, you should know better than anyone, I will win." Polly went quiet, gulping back her fear and anger. What was she to do when she still had no clue of Michael's whereabouts or what Tommy may have told his men to do with him. What if he gave him away to someone as bargaining chip? The Shelby's had many many enemies over the years, the list going on and on to the point Pol didn't even know where to start.

Th dark turn of events made you nauseous, what will happen when this child is born? Will these problems still occur, are you going to have to walk on eggshells, constantly being terried that your own family would be out to get you? Maybe Pol was right, maybe it would be better just to get rid of it but the idea of aborting something, someone that was made from a powerful, endearing form of love hurt you immensely. You could just picture it now their baby bright blue eyes that looked just like Tommy's yearning to be loved and taken care of. Excusing yourself from the table Tommy raised his hands up in irritation with Pol about her insensitive comments toward you.

Fast forward to now...

Your bump was growing, you were becoming too big for your typical everyday clothes but Tommy has been such a lamb in giving you his, ensuring the maids were checking in with you when he was away for business. Today's business in particular was a cause for concern as he had a meeting with Lizzie. You weren't so much worried about Tommy as you were her making a move on him or trying to outsmart him to where you would marry James in just a few days.

Your hands cradled your tummy anxiously, nibbling on your nails while you paced the room waiting for him to return. Tommy knew how you were and insisted everything would be alright. A knock at the door startled you from your thoughts, probably Frances again seeing if you needed anything. She really lived up to Tommy's expectations in caring for you, not going more than thirty minutes of checking on you in fear of losing her job, which you couldn't blame her the family paid her very well, even insisting on free time for herself and occasionally allowing her to have dinner with everyone, she did make the meals after all.

Twisting the knob, the phone started to ring, your heart thudding in your chest thinking about how maybe it was Tommy calling to check in on you and give you an update on the situation, but before you could think any further, you were met with a wetted cloth pressed harshly against you nose and mouth, the last thing you saw being a blurry image of a man that looked familiar...

"Shhh, shh, it'll all be over soon sweetheart..."

Meanwhile Tommy tapped his foot anxiously, Lizzie sitting across from him with an unhappy face and her arms crossed. She had been getting nowhere with her plan. When you didn't or Frances hadn't answered the phone his eyebrows furrowed together as he rang again, and once more after. Still no response, something seemed dreadfully wrong.

"You're not trying to get a hold of that whore of a sister you have are you. Don't play stupid with me Tommy, the town talks and it's quite obvious she is baring with child isn't she? We know it's yours. I can assure you it's far too late though, she should be gone by now. This is the part where you thank for taking care of your problem." At her bold statement, reality set in that she was behind this or at least was involved. Tommy hung the phone up calmly, taking in a deep breath and raising his eyebrows with a narrowed look of threatening, crystal blue eyes.

In a hasty hurricane of emotions Tommy whipped his hand back, slapping Lizzie across the face, not once but twice cheek to cheek, knocking the wind out of her hair and disheveling her once perfect hair. She grasped at her jaw in shock before Tommy cusped her chin, forcing her to look into his dead sea eyes.

"Listen to me and listen closely. There has never been a connection to us. Now you can dream on in this fairytale word of yours but what happens between my family is none of your business. As far as I'm concerned you are just another whore on the street, opening your legs to any man who will give you what you won't work for yourself. If you think your life is hard now, then tell me where she is before I make it worse." Lizzie was blindsided by the intimidating man's harsh words. He had never snapped at her like that before but maybe that was what she needed for him to get his point across that this was not a game she wanted to play.

"Now, if you know something I suggest you tell me."

-

Sirens were the first thing you heard as you slowly came back to reality, vision blurry and hearing rendered. The fuzzy image was like looking at an etch a sketch a child drew, all you could make out was two men chatting across the room, one being tall and dressed in a white long sleeve shirt, the other one slightly shorter but the more submissive one by the way he was slouched over cowering.

When you released a low groan, it was clear you were being gagged by what felt like cloth, limbs tied to the chair you were sat in, along with your wrists nowhere for you to go. Your vision became clearer as you blinked rapidly, now able to make out who this man was. Tommy had tried to kill him long ago, he was a dangerous man.

Perching his eyebrow up with your sudden cognitive awareness, he picked up a shiny metal object approaching you like an animal did it's prey, yelling at the other man to get out.

Fucking Mosley...

"Good morning sweetheart, you look quite rough but that body-" His hand flicked at the buttons of your shift, revealing your cleavage, wasting no time ins grasping at the cushiony skin, causing you to wince and shake your head vigorously.

"Ravishing, aren't you?" You tried to scream through the makeshit gag, only making him chuckle darkly, green eyes shimmering in the dimlit room. Glancing behind him, the walls were coated with luxurious wallpaper and you could hear the sounds of music just outside the door, surely there were other people here, only intensifying your fear. Where the fuck was Tommy?

"Now let's see what else we are working with, hm?" He untied the sweat pants you were wearing, the bump now resting out as clear as day. Your breathing increased rapidly when he slid the blade down your stomach, tears flowing freely.

"If you wanted a child and not an abomination, I'd love to give you the pleasure Y/N.. but first this has to go." He pressed the blade into your skin sharply, shedding blood instantly. In a fight or flight response, you headbutted him with all the force you could. He dropped the blade, but perhaps that wasn't a smart move after all.

"Why you little bitch!" He sent a powerful blow across your face, knocking you out once more.

"Fucking Shelby's."

-

Walking into the pub, wind rustling his hair, there he found Arthur sat at the bar wasting away the same as any other day. When they locked eyes, Arthur huffed not having anything to say to Tommy as he demanded another glass of whiskey from the barmaid, taking a glance at her cleavage when she wasn't paying attention and smirking to himself.

"Everybody out! Family business." Well there went Arthur's fun, fucking Tommy always sucking it right out of the room.

Tossing his hat onto the bar, he sat on the stool throwing Arthur's glass over the bar onto the floor where it shattered.

"What the fuck Tommy, can't have one fucking drink, eh?"

"Y/N's missing. I have an idea of where she is, but we need to move fast eh?" As soon as Tommy mentioned that you were gone, he demanded information as to who took his baby sister.

"James and fucking Lizzie thought up a grand plan, only reason I got it out of her was because I know her fucking past, parts she didn't know I knew but that's besides the point. They've made contact with someone from our past Arthur, and I have a great idea of where she may be. She didn't give me a name but I didn't need one. My men saw James after our meeting going into a club 5 miles from here." Arthur sat their contemplating the right thing to do, you were his sister after all but that didn't mean he wasn't disgusted by the revelations he encountered that first night.

Still not speaking, he ignored Tommy simply huffing in disbelief that Tommy would come to him for help. Why should he? Incest was a crime, a disgusting relationship and he would not stand by it, he was disappointed in both of you. Taking the hint Tommy carried on.

"Arthur I don't ask much of you, I've never once judged you from your past, I've always been at your side now I need you to be here for me...You may not agree with the situation but I need not remind you she is our sister, she needs us. Who knows who the fuck has her or what they are doing with her. I need you brother." Arthur brushed his hand through his oily hair, down over his beard contemplating. Tommy had a point and fuck did he hate when he always did, however you were not the only Shelby missing.

"What about Michael? Hm? He's a Shelby too that only one of us in the room knows where he is. He's Pol's kid for fucks sake Tom. Where is he?" Tom shook his head, uninterested in relaying those details just yet, once you were back and he could see with his very own that you were unharmed and the baby was okay then he would spill.

"That information is not important now is it? Y/N is a sweet, innocent girl and she's always been there for everyone Arthur, can you say the same about Michael, 'cause I can't." He had a point there, Arthur remembering all the times Michael screwed him over and Pol expecting them to just forgive him because of the last name he shared. It was bullshit.

Tommy had plenty of dirt on his brother but he didn't operate like that, he was Arthur's weakspot and he knew that, he didn't have to use his past against him for him to give in and fall in line with his requests and orders. Nodding, Arthur slammed the rest of his drink, groaning and following Tommy out the door.

"You smell like shit." Tommy tried to make light of the situation, setting a subtle reminder that neither had to agree with the others decisions they just needed to be there for one another.

"Ah shut up Tom. Who's ass are we killing this time, hm?"

-

With Tommy being gone, Polly was making herself at home in his office, digging through the drawers of his desk, scattering papers across the room looking for any information that might help her find her son, but there was nothing. Now that you were missing, she'd be damned if she was going to lose her own kid, putting him first in a selfish way.

A knock at the door startled her, thinking it may be Tommy until the voice spoke.

"Relax Pol, it's just me." Oh thank god, it was just John.

He walked in with sympathetic eyes, hating see his aunt in such a desperate state of mind without a hint of a starting point to find Michael but he knew something and she could tell.

In a moment of silence, Pol pointed her cigarette accusingly at him, blowing smoke into the brisk air of the room.

"You never come in to Tommy's office unless he's here. What do you know, where is he?!" John put his hands up surrendering the idea of him indeed knowing something, but he wasn't here just for that.

Tommy clued him in on the plan, asking him to stay home and keep Pol subdued, and to inform her Michael would be home soon unharmed but only after you were safely secured in his arms once again.

"Michael is safe. He will be home later after Y/N is found alive and safe. He forced him to work in the states and keep business affairs civil to bring the company in money.

A wave of relief washed over her, but when she heard who they think had taken you a dreadful, terrified feeling rushed through her veins. She didn't think it would go this far, that James and Lizzie would be so spiteful, not that she was much better herself. But never this bad.

"Where's Arthur?" John scoffed with a surprised yet irritated look on his face.

"Don't you in the least bit care about y/n and Tommy? I know they are on your shit list but they're family Pol, they're blood. We've all made mistakes but if they are happy just let them fucking be happy."

Pol stood their contemplating on the right thing to say, she couldn't separate her love for the both of you from her views on this relationship.

-

Kicking the door in Tommy walked into the club with determined eyes, searching for his target while Arthur walked behind him smoking a cigarette, waiting for the younger Shelby's queue to start fucking people up.

"You see him Tom?" He shook his head, but was still scanning the room while keeping his composure. Heads turned toward the family with looks of disgust, some with fear as they knew very well who the brothers were.

After a few sharp turns and corners, Tommy motioned toward Arthur to light this god damn place on fire and kill anyone that got in his way as they were both carrying. The boy spotted Tommy out of the corner of his eye but Tommy was faster, shoving him against the wall and cocking his gun beneath his chin.

"Where the fuck is she? I knew you were no good from the fucking start. What can't pull a beautiful, innocent girl so you go and have her fucking killed eh? Sounds like an insecure little bitch to me. You didn't think I'd find you did you James?" He eyed the boy skeptically, his eyes beaming with anger, giving off a profound sense of dominance. He kneed him in the stomach, causing him to groan out in agony, almost falling to the floor if it weren't for Tommy holding up, ignoring the chaos behind him his brother was causing, a table flipping in the air and hitting the wall besides James's head. A piece of wood flying of a broken leg and striking him in the eye.

"Take me to the fucking room." He dropped the boy, kicking him in is back to go on and crawl if he had to. He didn't care, he just needed you.

The room was in a far back, closed off area of the club, away from people that no one would have heard your screams.

Barging in the room Tommy threw James's bruised, and battered body on the floor, ignoring his whimpers, seeing red when he saw Mosley's lips against the warmth of your neck, his hand caressing your breast while blood flowed freely from your nose. The cut mark of the sharp knife glistening in the light beaming in through the dirty window.

"Ah well if it isn't Mr. Shelby. It's been quite some time no?" When Tommy pulled out his gun once more, Mosley was quick to yank your head back by your hair, pressing the blade roughly into your skin.

"Ah, ah. Temper, temper. I was simply doing what the young lad here couldn't. You should know by now you can't escape me." When Arthur screamed angrily and bolted forward, Mosley dug the knife in deeper, causing you to scream out in pain, making Tommy grab Arthur by the arm and yank him back. He didn't want to risk it, not yet.

He breathed in the sea breeze scent of your hair, continuing to pepper kissed to your temple, making you squirm in discomfort from the man's unwanted advances. Your eyes locked with Tommy to put a stop to this, to end this right here right now. Seeing you in such a pitiful, abused state angered him but also shattered his heart to think Pol couldn't be trusted to look after you.

"What do you want eh? The campaign is fucking over, she has nothing to do with this. This fight is between us, the men. Now why don't we handle this like proper gentlemen eh? Let the girl go." Mosley wasn't convinced, shaking his head no. That would be too easy. He expected adventure, excitement, he wanted to see his enemy crumble, to have no choice but to admit to defeat.

"And why would I do that hm? If I recall correctly you tried to kill me. You've lost my trust Mr. Shelby. Quite the disappointment you turned out to be, now here I am trying to rid your baby sister of this rotted fruit in the womb that belongs to you." Tommy was blindsided, no one had actual proof that there was any relation more than a sister and brother relationship. Lizzie didn't have solid proof, James hadn't either just speculation he was bluffing but Tommy couldn't risk egging him on instead standing there silently with his hands folded in front of him in a gentlemanly manner as he tried to keep his composure.

"Mr. Mosley, not quite sure where you are getting false information from. After all I think the only one that may have fucked his sister is you, you do like to keep it in the family if I recall correctly." Mosley stiffened his jaw, grabbing a tightening his fist in your hair before shoving your head down and smacking his gun down on your head merely knocking you out as blood trickled down your forehead.

He was moving away from you slightly, they just had to wait for the opportunity, even though Tommy's heart was thudding inside his chest rapidly in fear of what would happen if they didn't make a move soon. Just a few more steps away from you...

"The per-petulant know it all, walking into my fucking club. These are my grounds Mr. Shelby, what kind of host am I not offering you a drink first? Maria-" Before he could finish yelling for a woman, in a swift motion Tommy went to throw a punch and reach for his hat to scrape his skin off while Arthur rushed to your unconscious aide.

Mosley was faster though, head butting the younger Shelby as he fumbled to take his gun from his jacket. The weapon falling out and sliding across the floor.

As Arthur undid your bindings, he noticed his brother needed help. Unlike Tommy, Mosley wasn't messing with him at the moment, giving him an advantage.

Pulling his gun from the back of his trousers he aimed it at Mosley, who grasped his own gun in his hand now, holding Tommy in a head lock with his forearm wrapped around Tommy's neck.

"Put the gun down Arthur, or a bullet goes through her head." Tommy was losing air and attempted to scream for Arthur to take the fucking shot.

Simultaneously, Arthur screamed a "fuck you" Mosley's way, both guns going off in a poetic yet dreadful scene of the dangerous men at play.

Blood splattered across the wall, Mosley's grip on Tommy loosening, making him drop to the floor on his knees as he tried to catch his breath with weary, fuzzy eyes glancing up. The bullet Mosley shot had only just missed your head by a centimeter, his lifeless body flailing to the ground as Arthur managed to him with a killshot in the middle of his forehead.

"You alright Tommy, hm?" He waved him off, stumbling to get up and pull you out of the chair at this godforesaken place. Carrying you out in his arms while Arthur picked his gun up off the floor, taking Mosley's in the process.

"C'mon sweet girl, let's go home." Relief washed over Tommy like an immense wait had been lifted from his shoulders.

He gave Arthur the go ahead to call the man he put Michael with to allow him to be released from his duties, too zoned out and only focused on you, worried if the baby was alright.

-

Your dreary, restless head rested against Tommy' shoulder as he walked you inside, spotting Pol and Michael standing by the fire place. A look of pity washing over your aunt's face when she noticed the bruises on your face, the dried blood painted from your hair down your forehead. She hadn't wished this upon you, she never would, she hadn't realized just how serious this situation was or how perhaps James wasn't the man she thought he could be for you.

Now with the family reunited even with strained ties, the house settled, the fire crackling in the background, Tommy laying your cold body down on the sofa beside it to warm you up, tossing a wool throw blanket over you in the process.

Pol was the first one to speak.

"I-I'm so sorry I-I didn't know I-" Tommy cut her off abruptly with the raise of his hand not even batting an eye at Michael standing in the room, acting as if he wasn't present.

"No, no you didn't know. You didn't take the time to know. Frances has already informed me that you were too wasted to even hear someone breaking in the fucking house. She had to hide in a fucking closet Pol. Look at her now, tell me is this far enough for you, or do you want her dead along with our child?" This place was no longer a safe space for you, and Tommy refused to put you in harms way ever again, too worried to even risk it because it was clear he could not trust anyone in the family to even care about your safety just because of one unplanned pregnancy.

When the early morning light peered in through the window, the sounds of bird chirping in the harmonious summer day, you woke up head pounding from the painful blows Mosley striked you with. Tommy was layed beside you, caressing your cheek delicately and lovingly, glancing down at your weak state with sympathetic eyes.

"Good morning love. I set two tylenol on the table with a glass of water. We should get going soon, we don't have long until the others wake." With a puzzled look, you glanced around the room only to see your belongings no longer there. Only the dusty old furniture that was handed down through generations.

"W-what?"

"We're going away for awhile, at least until she is born." Your eyebrows propped up with excitement and surprise, how did he know the gender?

"That's right she. I had Frances contact the doctor. Now take your pills and let's get the hell out of hear because I won't risk your health and safety again nor hers." The tears started welling up in your eyes, insisting on taking the pills to go in the car. You were finally getting away, having the light at the end of the tunnel with Tommy by your side. He assisted you up, holding on to you with a protective, and caring hold to help you into the car.

The two of you sat in silence for a moment, the events from the previous night still washing over you, reminding you both as you stared back at the house you grew up in of why you were leaving.

"Well, wh-where are we going?"

"Far, far away from here my beautiful girl." He took your hand in his, digits scanning over you smooth skin before resting a kiss to your forehead, smiling like a fool in love that the day had come, he finally was going to have the ability to be happy, no arguments, no danger, just a family of his own with the girl he shouldn't have loved the way he did.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

The Dollhouse 3

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as fear, coercion, violence, noncon/dubcon, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk. 

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you. 

Summary: Five girls move into a shared residence for the upcoming school year but not all is as it seems. 

Characters: Jonathan Pine, Captain Syverson, Steve Abnesti, Lloyd Hansen, and Peter Parker 

This fic features five named readers; Ann, Lulu, Polly, Barbie, and Molly. This chapter features Polly and Ann. Please note that characters may switch but will maintain second-person POV.

Note: 💗

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. Thanks to everyone who reads this one and thank you for all your energy.<3 

Love you all until you can’t stand it. Take care. 💖 

Barbie sets up her vanity on the desk. She opens the little plastic doors on the mirror to reveal the built-in lights before bending over to plug it in. You’re amused at her efforts as she reaches around the legs in search of a socket. 

You’re so excited. You’ve been counting down the days since your best friend came up with the idea. She found the ad online and forwarded it to you. It was almost too good to be true. You came together to meet the building manager, Jonathan, and he showed you all around. You can’t believe you both snagged a room. 

Barbie stands and pushes a button on the base of the mirror. She fiddles with her phone and there’s a chiming noise. Music starts to play from the speakers behind the vanity. Nifty. 

She lifts her makeup chest onto the desk and unrolls her collection of brushes and other tools. Her passion is admirable. You guess that’s why you are friends; she doesn’t shy away from what she loves. For her, it’s cosmetics, for you, it’s clothes. 

Lulu watches her as she hovers around the door. The girl hasn’t stopped moving since you go there. She’s like a hummingbird, always fluttering. She has this nervous laugh that seems to escape her without notice. 

“What are you taking, Lu?” You ask, hoping to distract her from her nerves. 

“Oh, uh, mathematics.” 

“Math? Wow.” 

“I’m not much for numbers but I have to do accounting courses if I want my business degree,” Barbie snips as she sorts through her makeup pads. 

“Business? That’s cool. What about you, Polly?” Lulu sways and tucks her hands behind her back. 

“Interior design. My mom forbade me from going into fashion but I convinced her to let me do this instead,” you explain. “It’s good money and I can still sew on the side, I guess.” 

“That’s interesting. I don’t know much about fashion. Vogue or whatever,” she tentatively peeks over at Barbie. “You have so much makeup.” 

“I’m a collector,” Barbie trills. “You want me to do you up? I don’t mind and I’m religious about cleaning my stuff.” 

“Oh, uh, you don’t have to,” Lulu waves her hands. 

“I don’t have to but I want to,” Barbie insists. 

“It’s her hobby,” you say, “just don’t let her get you with the glitter.” 

Lulu shrugs, “okay, nothing too heavy. I have sensitive skin.” 

“Oh, you don’t need much,” Barbie assures her, “your eyes are the perfect shape.” 

You hide a yawn as your leg bounces, jiggling the whole bed with it. You lean back on the heels of your hand, bored but not unhappy. The music fills the lull as Barbie searches through her palettes. 

You flinch as you hear something in the hallway. You get up as Barbie asks Lulu her opinion on lip gloss. You open the door and peek out. A girl carries and old looking suitcase down the hall, a box cradled in her other arm. You step out and she tosses the box in surprise. 

“Oh, hi,” she touches her chest and catches her breath. She looks over in dread at the scattered contents of the box. “Uh... sorry. You scared me.” 

“I’m sorry, I was just coming to say hi,” you go to her as she leaves her suitcase to the side and gets down to gather up her belongings. You help her, picking up a framed photo of a woman. She looks a lot like her. Maybe her mother? 

“I’m Ann,” she says as she takes the frame. 

“Polly,” you reply. “There’s some other girls in there,” you point over your shoulder. “You’re welcome to join us once you get your stuff down.” 

“Uh, sure, maybe,” she lifts the box and stands. “Tired.” 

“Right, yeah, I think everyone is. Been a long day.” 

“Is everyone else already here?” She asks. 

“I think. There’s two others downstairs. I guess you didn’t see them on your way in.” 

“Just the boy, uh, Peter? He’s nice. He wanted to play some ping pong but my hands were full,” she backs up to grab her bag, “I’ll knock on the door if I get a chance.” 

“Sure, yeah, we’d be happy to have ya. I know we were thinking of drinks so... maybe later.” 

“Okay,” she nods and lets herself into the last empty room.  

You go back into Barbie’s room as she bends to ply powder to Lulu’s face. “Someone here?” She asks. 

“Yeah, the last girl. Ann.” 

“Ann? That’s so pretty. Was she nice?” She asks. 

“Oh, super nice. She seemed a bit tired but I think we all get that. I told her to stop by if she has the energy.” 

“Awesome,” Barbie preens and stands back to examine Lulu. 

You wade around the room restlessly. Now that everyone is here, you’re impatient. You go to the window and glance out at the yard. It’s green and lush and perfectly groomed. You touch the window. The glass feels peculiarly thick. You twist the latch between the panes and push out. Heavy, too. 

As you do, you notice the figure below. Steve notices you too. The large blond man turns and peers up. You stand dumbly as you are. He raises a hand in a casual wave. You frown and pull back without returning the gesture. 

“Oof, that pollen’s going to get me good,” Barbie sniffles, “honey, will you look in my bag for my claritan?” 

“You’re always so dramatic,” you tease her as you tuck down your concern. 

You go to Barbie’s purse and search around for the pills. You don’t want to worry her by asking about that man. If everyone’s here, shouldn’t he be headed out. Jonathan touted the new security system and he mentioned routine check-ins. You really don’t like the idea of constant surveillance, even if it’s for your own safety. 

“You okay?” Barbie asks as you approach her with the box of tablets. 

“Fine, fine, just... adjusting.” 

“We all are,” she sets down her brush and take the medicine. “Right, Lu?” 

“Oh, yeah, everything’s so new,” the girl wiggles on the chair and giggles. “And far from home.” 

You give her a sympathetic smile. You can’t even imagine what it’s like to be in a whole different country. The more you think about it, the more your own homesickness mounts. Your family isn’t the best but you can’t help but miss them just a little bit. 

You put the portrait on the empty desk next to the box. You’re too exhausted to unpack. You drag your feet and sit on the bed. There’s a tidy stack of folded sheets on top, next to a card. Strange. 

You reach for the envelope and tear it open. Inside, you read the little welcome; ‘Consider this a housewarming. Please don’t hesitate to call should you have any issues with your housing. Jonathan Pine.’ Under his name, he’s written the number you already have in your phone. You lower it to your lap and something slides out of the envelope. 

You bend forward to take the gift card from the floor. Huh. That’s a bit too generous. A gift card to the local mall. You wouldn’t spit in the face of kindness but this all seems a bit much, especially after staying so long with Marla. 

You put it all back in the envelope and lay sideways on the bed, legs still over the edge. You were so happy to get a room there; clean, affordable, great location. Not that you’re there, you’re overwhelmed by it all. All these pretty girls, younger yet well ahead of you. 

It won’t do to get hung up on age or time or whatever. You should at least try to make friends. They seem lovely so far. Besides, you didn’t just miss out on classes for all those years you took off, no, you lost out on the social scene. 

You huff and push yourself up. Better be a human and go and meet your roommates. The long you wait, the more awkward it’ll be. Besides, you’re done with being left behind. 

You peek out into the hall before you emerge. You step out and shut the door gently. You cross the white carpet with blue roses and knock on the same door that girl Polly came out of. The moment your knuckles hit the wood, a brew of nerves begins in your stomach. 

It doesn’t take long for an answer. It’s almost like Polly’s waiting for you on the other side. You smile and give an awkward wave. Why did you do that? 

“Hey, offer stand?” You ask. 

“Oh, hi! Yes, come on in and meet everyone,” she steps back. You poke your head in before the rest of you and push your shoulders up, “hi, I’m Ann.” 

“Barbie,” the one standing up introduces, her focus on the other as she draws on her eyelids with liner. “This is Lulu. She’s an exchange student.” 

“Hi,” Lulu squeaks then giggles as she keeps her eyes closed. 

“Stay still,” Barbie tuts. She gets an apology and another tinkling laugh. 

“It’s just the three of you?” Ann asks. “And Peter?” 

“And Molly,” Barbie answers as she pulls back and caps the liner. “Quiet but sweet.” She sucks her teeth as she looks over Lulu. “We’ll do your mascara and gloss and then we’ll go do some driiiiinks.” She shimmies as she sings the last words. 

“I brought vodka if you wanna share,” Polly offers, “Barbie only drinks tequila.” 

“Can’t go wrong with a margarita,” Barbie counters. 

“I’ve never drank,” Lulu says. “My mom never let it in the house.” 

“Oh my god! Alright, well, we’ll make sure to give you a starter drink,” Barbie chirps. 

“Vodka’s fine, thanks,” you say to Polly. You look around and take in the large makeup chest with its many shelves and the roll of brushes in all sizes. 

“Barbie’s really into cosmetics. We go on dates to Sephora.” 

“They know me by name,” Barbie brags. 

“Mm,” you nod and clasp your hands together. You don’t know what to say. “So, uh, super nice building huh?” 

“Oh, it’s fucking perfect,” Barbie says. “I lived on campus last year and the showers were always clogged with hair. Ew.” 

“Hah, yeah, well, just wait a couple months,” Polly scoffs. 

“Mm, and there’s good security,” you suggest as you drag your hand up your arm, “I met that guy on the way in. Steve.” 

“Ah, yes, he’s nice,” Barbie says. 

Polly hums and her lips thin as she glances at the window. Lulu giggles again but doesn’t add anything. 

“And Jonathan is a sweetheart. That accent, too,” Barbie laughs. 

“Oh, uh, yeah, he’s nice.” 

“Sy is... nice too,” Lulu says. “The gardener.” 

“Honey, I need to do your lips,” Barbie chides. 

“Sorry,” Lulu stills and lets the other girl paint her with pink gloss. 

“There’s a gardener?” You ask as you share a look with Polly. 

“Done,” Barbie announces and stand straight. 

Lulu looks at herself in the mirror and bats her lashes, “oh my god, it’s awesome! Wow! I don’t even look like me!” 

“You do. I just highlighted your beauty,” Barbie assures her. “Ann, how about it? You want a glow up?” 

“Uh, no, that’s fine. Lulu, you said there’s a gardener?” 

“Of course,” Barbie shrugs, “I mean, look at the yard. I’m not trimming the hedges, are you?” 

“Yeah, he’s a big guy. Super helpful. The other day, I got locked out by accidents. Oh, you gotta be careful with the front door.” 

“Right,” you squint. “I’ll keep that in mind.” 

“We got all year to complain about the house, guys, let’s go get the others and get the party started,” Barbie whines as she looks around and flits over to a Louis Vuitton bag, “let me just get my tequila. Pol, go get your bottle and we’ll ball out.” 

You force a smile but it’s not entirely fake. You’re excited. You’re finally getting started on your life after dwelling so long on the end of it. You just wish your mom was here to see it. You wish you could call her so she could tell you she’s proud. 

She would be, wouldn’t she?

[padfootdaredmetoo]

Tell Me Lies

Tommy Shelby X Wife Reader

Request for @luvlesavyy

Request: What if Thomas found himself in a sticky situation? What if he had to be compelled to pretend that he had betrayed his beloved wife, whom he holds dearly in love with, in order to protect her and their child? What if Tommy received life threatening letters from his gems? He lies to his wife, tells her he cheated on her, all this to keep them away from the harm he can bring to their lives... How would this story end? Would she forgive him after he found the letters, threatening her and her firstborn's lives, in Tommy's office drawer?

(They spent a week apart, and she had constant back pain, Polly said she was pregnant. Now what? Pregnant, with the love of her life, who "cheated" on her. Wonder what she's going to do about it? Will you tell Tommy when you discover the letters?).

Hey love,

Sorry this took so long but I didn't forget about you. I've never been the kind for the silent anger type of thing. Changed a few of the details around but I hope you enjoy this <3 Thanks for being so wonderful!

Warnings: pregnancy, cheating, screaming, passing out, hitting, biting, extreme anger & the usual peaky themes

Tommy was used to the bitter taste of whiskey doing absolutely nothing to calm his nerves. He stares at the telephone wishing that he had just imagined the phone call he had received. He pulled a red package of documents out of the top drawer of his dresser. He had finally been advised to open it. Now that he knows what is being asked of him he wants nothing more than to throw it in the fireplace. 

For the first time, he really felt that he was flying too close to the sun. Everything he had started was for his siblings and aunt, now every day was for his wife and child. 

How could he turn his back on all of them, on you, even for a second? What could he say to you that would keep you away? If he told you the truth, then Polly and Esme would be dragged into it and all of a sudden it would be a family trip to Austria. His stomach gave a lurch and he put his head in his hands. 

He had to lie to you. 

He would have to tell you something horrible so you would let go of him for the week-long mission. Then he could come crawling back with the papers as evidence. Sure, he would spend the rest of his life on the couch in his study, but at least you would be safe, at least you would still be his. 

He could try to refuse. 

How many wives and children would die if he did? Would you want to be married to that man? Looking at the papers in the file it was his own family on the chopping block if he refused.

“Fuck” He swore slamming his hands against his desk. 

______________________________________________________________

“What’s wrong.” You said looking at him with sharp eyes. You could tell just by the way he held himself that he had gone and done something stupid. 

“I have to go away for a bit.” His eyes were focused on you in a way that made it hard to look away. 

“Why?” 

“I can’t tell you.” He said firmly and you could tell your husband wanted you to accept this answer. 

“I’m your wife. Spit it out, Tommy.” You said crossing your arms. You hadn't been in this position since you were dating. Once married in you were at every meeting, involved in every dollar, and every conflict. Okay, you weren't directly involved in every conflict but you helped out in areas that weren't covered with gunfire. 

“Look, something's come up and I need to see to it, I really don't want to -” 

“I don’t care what you want Thomas. Do what’s right and tell me.” The anxiety was starting to bubble up and turn into rage the way it always did. You hated when people lied to you. 

“I got a phone call last night. Someone I may have had an entanglement with has had a child. She’s saying it’s mine.” The words fell between you and you knew something was off. You assumed he was just hiding the juicy details of his affair. Now a child is out there. Whose child would he father? His wife’s or his mistress? 

You stood there feeling a familiar hysteria build up inside you. This time you didn't have to push it down. Charlie was with Esme and the cousins for the night. You could make him pay. 

The feeling started to radiate into your limbs and you were freed from your initial shock. You picked up the crystal vase on the side table beside the couch. You threw it at him. 

Head on where he was sitting at his desk.  He narrowly missed it. His eyes flared with shock. You picked up every single thing you could reach and threw it at him. He stood up and charged towards you and you welcomed it. 

You wanted him to hit you first. You wanted blood. It was your turn to cause trouble. He tried to grab your arms and you smacked his chest as hard as you could. He got his arms around you and you bit into his shoulder hard enough to draw blood. Hope his mistress likes that scar. 

You screamed at him. You told him every single bad thing you could think of. You told him he was the reason the family was cursed. That his mother killed herself to get away from him. You screamed your own curse on his life. 

You screamed and screamed until you cried. A deep sob that unraveled years of strength. Everything you had done for this family, just to be replaced as Lizzie once said you would be. 

This was beyond anger and betrayal. This was beyond human. You felt your mind become otherworldly and your vision narrowed in. The blackened edges of your vision collided and you weren't screaming anymore. You had dissolved into nothingness and it was blissful. 

______________________________________________

You woke up and he was gone. The family was in complete chaos over the news. Arthur was actually crying on and off, apologizing for his stupid little brother. He and John held the business together under Polly’s direction. 

Polly eventually sat you down and told you the news once everyone had come to say they were sorry and how they would be helping. It was like being a widow at a funeral. 

A pregnant widow. 

“You're joking.” You took in a sharp breath. “And that is not very funny at a time like this.” Your voice was high and she grabbed your face with two hands. 

“It’s not a joke. You’ll be fine.” Her eyes were so intense it put you at ease. 

Esme reassured you and decided to stay with you at Arrow House for a while. The kids were used to being lumped together and they had no problem looking after themselves for the most part. Charlie was 6 so he didn't have a hard time keeping up with his cousins. 

The two of you rot in bed and she did what she could to keep your blood pressure from rising. You could see it in her eyes though, she was pissed as hell and you were sure she would make Tommy feel it too when the time came. 

If he ever came back. Your heart gave a painful clench and while you were alone in the bath there was no one to judge you for crying. It was a soft moment you allowed yourself. It felt shameful, it felt like letting him win. It was stupid but you felt like you were just a girl getting your heart broken again. This time it felt final. Your heart would not survive this. 

But your family loved you. That was obvious from the cooked meals and even Arthur was around helping with the kids at bedtime. You could hear him and John reenacting all the monsters they fought when they had lived on the boat as kids. You even caught yourself laughing a few times at the wild stories.

It was almost a week since that night and you were starting to feel just as betrayed but you had your head back on your shoulders. In the middle of the night, you decided to see if this woman had written him any letters. You weren't sure why but you were obsessed with finding out who this woman was. Why could she steal him away from you so easily when you had done nothing but give him everything?

You went into his study and shut and locked the door. While you turned the latch you wondered where they had sex? Was it here? The office? The backseat of his car? The rage started to bubble up again and a hand went to your stomach. You took some deep breaths thinking about what a divorce would mean. 

His - scratch that, your family would still love you. You would get to pick a new house and decorate it however you wanted. Fill it full of books and do nothing other than look after Charlie and read. You took another big breath and moved over to his desk. 

You pulled open the drawers in his desk and started to pick through everything. You knocked on the bottom of the first drawer when you saw that the woodwork didn't quite line up. You remembered from all your spy novels that it could have a false bottom. You grabbed a letter opener and started to pry it open. 

It came loose with a pop and you pulled out lots of extra copies of passports and documentation for your family. A cold shudder ran through you. You picked up your fake passport to see that he had named you, Arbella Shelby, maiden name Sutherland. You let out a snort as that was a character in a Highlander romance novel you adored. Why would he remember something so stupid when he was plowing another woman the whole time.

You reached into the hidden compartment a little further and pulled out a red envelope. It was made with very expensive card stock. You opened it and read through the document carefully. 

He had been sent away to aid in the assassination of an English spy hiding in Austria.

Your brain hurt and you took another few breaths and kept reading. 

It only got worse. Any outside interference would result in death. Failure to complete the mission would result in his death. Failure to accept the assignment and the government will move forward with prosecuting the remaining members of the Shelby family for acts against the crown. You read down the list of names and ran a finger over your name, following it was the rest of the family. You also noticed that Esme and John’s older kids were on the list. 

He needed to leave without us going to find him. 

He lied to protect you. 

It got hard to breathe and you had to try and remain calm. You let out a weird sort of choking sound then threw up into a plant pot. Polly found you moments later. 

“Breathe.” You let her grip your shoulders and tried to follow her breathing but your vision went dark again and you were out. 

_______________________________________________

When you woke up Polly was pacing the room and shouting at someone in a hushed voice. 

“You should have told us.” She hissed. “What if something had happened to you.” 

“Churchill would have sent the news. Then she would know what had happened.” Tommy answered in a low and steady voice. He sounded exhausted. 

“What if you had failed! They would have shipped us off to jail again.” She snapped. “She almost lost the baby over this mess Thomas.” 

“Only if I had refused the job,” Tommy answered and he sounded so tired. You opened your eyes and watched them stare each other down. 

“Promise me it won't happen again.” You mumbled. 

“I wish I could.” He closed his eyes and looked positively exhausted. 

“Let me talk to Churchill.” Your whisper still conveying your anger. Tommy gave you a big smile. You finally registered how battered his face was. 

“I have papers saying you lot won't be used as collateral again.” He held his whiskey glass up to his cheek. 

“Tommy, if i thought that the family and our children would get killed I would manage to stay away.” You said knowing that tears were starting to spill down your cheeks. Polly took in a breath and you knew she was going to lay into him properly now that you were awake. 

“I’m sorry.” He said simply. His eyes opened and locked on yours. You knew he meant it. Shock crossed Polly’s face.

“I didn't think you knew those words.” She said waving her hand in the air. 

“Okay.” You said not wanting to be apart for a moment longer. There was ringing in your ears and you knew he was sorry. You knew he wouldn't do it again. Tommy was a lot of things, but he never hurt you the same way twice. He always learned from his mistakes. 

You started taking some deep breaths trying to get your head to stop throbbing. Esme came through with a mug of tea and Tommy put his drink down to help you into an upright position. 

“Tea will help with the headache.” She said her eyes darting to Tommy. 

“Esme?” He said calmly.

“What.” She answered looking skeptical. 

“Thanks for looking after her.” He held her gaze and she nodded at him. The rest of the family piled in and discussed the events of the past week. The tea brought the ringing in your ears and the throbbing in your head down to a normal level. 

Charlie came through and climbed up on his father's lap. Tommy’s arm fit around him and he continued talking about what needed to happen moving forward when dealing with Mosley. 

You had hope for his cause. You rested in his arms and found your way back to him out of the darkness that had been threatening to swallow you.

[embrosegraves]

𝔻𝕖𝕔𝕖𝕟𝕥𝕝𝕪 𝕊𝕞𝕦𝕘

(request) Carlos Sainz Jr x Reader "Are you decent?" "Probably not morally, but I've got clothes on, if that's what you're asking"

Dating a Formula One driver meant that life would never be smooth sailing. For a lot of people, this was terrifying and if you were honest with yourself, it did scare you a bit at first. However now that you were a few years into it, it wasn’t as bad as you once thought. Sure there were moments that you wished you could live even a tiny bit more privately, but such is life unfortunately. One thing you were grateful for about this chaotic spin on life (besides your boyfriend of course), was that your career was thriving. There was no way your career wouldn’t thrive. You were a lifestyle vlogger with access to the unadvertised side of a world famous athlete. 

You had been filming snippets of your life long before you had crossed paths with Carlos. Having been in the vlogging business for 8 years now, you had been dating Carlos for 3. Carlos was well aware of your career choice and while it had taken him a while to get used to you filming every other week, he eventually came to terms with it. He even managed to start having a bit of fun with it. Your fans always loved when Carlos made a cameo in your videos.

Currently, Carlos was getting dressed in your shared ensuite, having just finished showering after his training session, while you were filming in the kitchen. Today had been a filming day for you. You had taken the camera with you as you went grocery shopping, explaining that you were planning a home date for Carlos and yourself. You filmed as you went shopping for a small gift to give Carlos and you filmed as you prepped the food you planned to cook with Carlos later. 

Originally, you were content with waiting for Carlos to be done before you even went near the bedroom but you had forgotten something that you had left on your vanity. Camera in hand, you thought why not record the retrieval as a sort of spy-esque montage. It would be fun for the fans and yourself, and who could say no to pretending to be a spy? Opening your bedroom door, you moved the camera in a way that made it look like you rolly-pollied your way across your room. Making sure the camera was facing you, you began to ‘sneakily’ rummage through everything on your vanity in search for the “hidden jewel that had been stolen by pirates”. However it was nowhere to be seen. 

“Alright guys, I think we’ll have to give up on being spies. I’m pretty sure I left it in the ensuite because it’s not on my vanity.” You explained to the camera. “There’s just one problem. Carlos is currently in said ensuite and I have no idea if he’s naked or not. Which isn’t normally a problem but I’m selfish so I’m gonna gatekeep that from you all.”  

You quickly made your way to the ensuite door and knocked loud enough for Carlos to hear over his music. You could hear him turn off his music. 

“Yeah?” He called from inside. 

“I’m filming.” You said. “Are you decent?” 

“I mean probably not morally, but I’ve got clothes on if that’s what you meant.” You heard him laugh to himself as you opened the door. You poked your head through first, just to be safe. Seeing that he was indeed dressed, you moved the camera to face him. 

“I’m keeping that in, I hope you know that.” 

“I would hope so, that was hilarious. The people need to know that I’m funny.” He walked up to you and gave you a kiss. “Did you need something?” 

“Mmm.” You hummed as his hands came to rest on your hips. “I honestly don’t even remember what it was.” 

Carlos chuckled before he grabbed something from the bathroom counter. He held it in front of you with a smirk on his face. 

“It wouldn’t happen to be the mini ring light that you always forget to put back on your vanity, would it?” 

Your sheepish smile told him everything he needed to know.

overall, I'm pretty happy with how this turned out. With twitter in shambles over what happened, I thought I'd post the Carlos request I had in my drafts, as a treat/distraction.

I hope you all enjoyed!

Likes, replies and reblogs are always appreciated!

[capsicle-evans]

The Make Believe Ms Evans

Chris Evans x Reader

Summary: A PR marriage between Y/N and Chris Evans has skyrocketed their careers but their sex lives has never been this low. Up until now.

Warnings: Smut, unprotected sex, ass play, swearing.

Part 1

“Stay still” Marina, my make up artist warns me as she applies my eyeliner. “Can’t fuck this up now”

“Claire would probably murder you” I grin as I feel the weight of Marina’s hand on my cheekbone. “Did you know that you make funny faces when you are doing my make up?”

“It’s my concentration face” She winks at me before setting the pen on the table. “There, all done”

“Just in time” I whisper as Claire enters the bathroom, a stern look on her face.

“Y/N, can you join us in the living room, please?” Claire, my publicist, asks me.

“Depends” I twist my mouth to the side. “Am I getting lectured?”

“Depends” She gives me the same look I just gave her. “Are you going to comply?”

“Ugh, fine I’ll join you” I roll my eyes, standing up from my makeup chair. “You know, you need to stop being so grumpy all the time. It’s not good for your health”

“Yeah well that’s what working for you gets me” She turns around, guiding me towards the living area of the suite.

I grab the train of my dress before following her steps, making sure not to step over the hem. As soon as I enter the space, I notice Chris standing in front of the mirror, his eyes fixated on his tie, completely oblivious of my presence. I walk pass him, towards the chair next to the window, sitting down gracefully just to make sure my dress remains intact.

“I’m here” Polly appears from the adjacent room, a lot of papers in her hand and her phone between her ear and her shoulder. “Gotta go, call you later”

I take a couple of seconds to look at Chris, his black suit and black shirt hugging his entire frame. I turn my eyes to Polly before Chris can look back. “What’s going on?”

“What the fuck is going on with you two?” Polly asks as she places her phone down over the coffee table. “And why is this the fifth call I receive today about you two?”

“Don’t know what you’re talking about” I pout, reaching for a chocolate truffle but setting it down after thinking of the mess I might make of my dress.

“Well, enews is asking if you guys are getting a divorce, people magazine is asking me who cheated” Claire snarks back at me.

“Well, we know the answer to that one” I smile sarcastically.

“Seriously, Y/N? You’re still on that shit?” Chris rolls his eyes, running his hand through his hair.

“What? She asked and it’s not like I actually care” I tell him before turning back to Claire and Polly. “But for real, what’s up with the questions? We haven’t done anything”

“Yeah, that’s the problem, you two don’t look at each other or even talk to each other during events and people are starting to notice it” Polly says as she takes a seat across from me. “Guys, we know this wasn’t a love match but for fuck’s sake, you guys are actors, try to pretend at least”

Chris and I got married about 4 months ago after a lot of campaigning on Polly and Claire’s part. Every since Chris and I did a movie together two years ago, our fame skyrocketed and our teams thought that it would be a great idea if we dated. Or at least we pretended to. But in reality, we hated each other but apparently that’s what our movie needed since it was an enemys to lovers story. Fans went batshit crazy after a picture of Chris leaving my apartment at 3 am went viral. Truth was, he was there to apologize after a massive fallout we had during shooting. So we pretended to date and our relationship became like crack for the fans. It only took a couple of months before they were selling us the idea of marriage and only an idiot would deny the good press that our relationship brought to our careers, so we agreed.

“She basically chops my hand off as soon as I even try to step close to her” Chris waves his hand at me. “Take it up with her”

“Nice, put the blame on me” I chuckle. “Fucking prick”

“See, this has to stop if you guys don’t want to end up doing lifetime movies for the rest of your lives” Claire glares at us accusingly.

“If I’ll put me out of this misery” I exhale loudly but soon stop when Claire gives me a stern look. “Kidding”

“Guys, please” Polly sighs. “We know this situation is not ideal but I need you guys to cooperate”

“Fine” I shrug. “We’ll be more lovey doveys with each other”

“Chris?” Polly looks up at him with pleading eyes.

“It’s not like I have a choice” Chris turns to me. “No offense”

“I’d have to care in order for it to offend me” I snark back before turning to Claire. “Sorry, from now on I’ll be a good wifey”

“God help us all” Polly looks up at the ceiling as if God can give her any guidance.

***

The limo pulls up right at the edge of the red carpet, flashes and shouts already making me feel anxious. Chris opens up the door from his side and steps out, waving immediately at the people who have turned their attention to our car. He turns to give me a hand, his free hand reaching for the train of my dress.

“Thank you” I whisper as he bends down to spread the train nicely so it can be appreciated in its full glory.

“That’s what lovey dovey husbands do” Chris grins as he places a hand just above my butt cheek. “Try not to chop off my hand”

“Try not to tempt me” I say with a tight smile in my lips.

Chris guides me towards the red carpet, our names being shouted from every angle. With his left hand still on my back, he pulls to his side to pose for some pictures. He then turns to me, leaning in to whisper something in my ear. “Pretend I just said something funny”

“That’s hard since I don’t have a point of reference” I pretend to giggle as Chris hand pinches my skin. “Jerk”

“See, that’s why we make a lovely couple” He grins down at me, his lips pressed against my temple. “We are both assholes”

“Chris, Y/N” A pap calls our attention “look over here”

We keep posing for a couple of minutes, every once in a while looking at each other and giving a fake smile. After a while, Polly and Claire guide us to the inside of the theater where Chris’ movie is premiering. It’s about a war veteran who comes after being presumed dead. It was a heavy movie and it took a big toll on Chris but it all payed off because people where even mentioning his name along the word “oscar”.

Half way through the movie, after crying a bit over a really hard scene, an almost naked Chris came on the screen, and there was a bunch of gasps heard around the room. Chris looks good, no one could deny it, but this scene in particular really made it difficult for me to not gape at him. It was really intimate and sexy, and it focused on him going down on his estranged wife.

My hands went to the armrests, gripping a bit as Chris’ mouth hid between his costars legs. Every since we started the agreement, there was no one else. At least on my part. Mostly to avoid gossip. That meant that my sex life was basically non existent, unless anyone counted the vibrator in my bedside table.

A couple of eyes turned to my direction, hoping to see a reaction from me as I watch my husband be so intimate with another woman. I fidget a little in my seat, a warm feeling setting over my abdomen as I listen to Chris’ moans over the speakers. I need sex. Not with Chris, obviously. Just sex.

“Stop moving” Chris grunts, placing a hand over my shaking thigh. His palm is hot against my skin, making me gulp.

“Get your hand off me” I grit my teeth, trying hard not to push his hand away.

“You are moving like a worm and it’s distracting me” Chris looks down at me before taking his hand away.

“Sorry, the dress is too tight” I lie. I don’t want him to think that this is about him.

“Whatever, just stop squirming” He almost grins when I send him a death glare. “Childish”

“Idiot” I call him through my teeth.

“Both of you shut up before someone else listens” Polly pokes her head from Chris’ side, giving both of us a pointed look.

I huff before settling my back against my chair. Thankfully, the scene is over and my skin has stopped tingling. I manage to put my attention back into the movie, tears forming every once in a while. Soon after, the credits are rolling and everyone is on their feet, clapping at the whole crew.

I stand up and clap along before Claire softly pushes me to Chris’ side. Biting the inside of my lip, I wrap my arm around his waistline and look up, faking a smile. “Pretend that I just said something sweet” I whisper only form him to hear.

“That’s hard since I don’t have a point of reference” Chris grins, throwing my words back at me. “But I’ll try”

***

“God she is so pretty” I cry as I stare up at Taylor Swift as she walks around the room. Every since it was announce that she was going to be in the movie soundtrack, I nearly fainted.

“Stop being a creep” Chris gives me a weird look before going back to his whiskey.

After the movie was over, we traveled to the after party to loosen up a bit more and enjoy the cool LA night. I switched my dress before arriving, opting for a short black dress.

“Can you leave me alone? Please?” I try to not to make a face in case anyone is watching.

“Trust me, there’s nothing that I want more than to be away from you” Chris says, still holding his glass to his lips.

“You’d rather be with her?” I ask, reaching for my vodka soda.

“Seriously? Are we going there?” I can see the anger in his hands as it grips the glass. “Nothing happened”

About a month after the wedding, I started receiving texts and screenshots from one of Chris’ costars on a film. They were from a conversation between her and Chris and about how they couldn’t wait to be alone and fuck each other’s brains off. I obviously never cared about it out of jealousy but out of anger because he was making me look like an idiot. Claire and Polly had to intervene, so, after she got a deal on a movie thanks to them, the messages stopped coming.

“Whatever” I roll my eyes before going back to looking around the room. “At least she was pretty, I would actually murder you if you cheated on me with an ugly person”

“I didn’t cheat” He exhales harshly, really annoyed with me.

“Glad to see you are not biting each other’s heads off” Claire joins us at the VIP table, a glass of white wine in her hand.

“Come back in 5 minutes and we’ll see” I give her a sarcastic smile. “It’s really tempting”

“Maybe you should fuck the anger away” Polly smirks as she sits next to Claire.

I immediately tense up, remembering that scene from the movie. “I’d rather shave my entire hair and eat it before doing that”

Chris laughs, clearly amused by my comment. “And they say romance is dead”

“When it comes to this relationship, they are right” I flop back down on the couch. “Anyways, enough about our wonderful marriage. I want to dance or do something fun for once”

“Let’s go” Chris stands up, stretching his hand to me. I stare at his hand for a couple of seconds. “Before I change my mind”

“You want to dance with me?” I blink up at him.

“That’s what couples do, Y/N” Chris rolls his eyes before reaching for my hand and forcing my to stand up.

“So romantic” Polly teases, earning a giggle from Claire.

“Oh shut up” I glare at them before following Chris to where there are some people dancing.

Taylor has been singing for a while now, the tunes of Dress starting to slither through the speakers. Chris pulls me against his chest, his hand landing on the curve between my ass and my back. People start to turn their attention to us.

“People are staring” I whisper against his jacket.

“Ignore them” Chris whispers against my ears. “Just remember you have to look like a madly in love wife”

“Yeah, because that’s easy” I chuckle. “I’ve never been married before and I’ve never been madly in love either”

“Never?” He asks me, his breath fanning my skin as we sway with the music. “A high school boyfriend?”

“I mean I’ve had boyfriends” I explain. “Just never that serious. You?”

“Not really, I mean, I enjoyed my past relationships but never enough to wish to marry them” Chris spins me around just as Taylor starts singing the chorus.

“And yet you married someone you actually hate” I laugh, seeing the irony.

“Yeah, well, at least you are hot” He pinches my back softly.

“Christopher Robert Evans, is that a compliment?” I fake gasp. He has called me this before. And so have I. Just because we are not particularly fond of each other doesn’t mean we are blind.

“Don’t let it get to your head” Chris rolls his eyes. “I’m trying to get along here”

“I mean we are making progress” I look around the room, scanning the crowd. “This is the longest we have gone without giving each other an insult”

“Don’t tempt me” He chuckles. “No but I’m serious… We should try to at least get along”

“Yeah, I guess” I bit the inside of my cheeks. We stay pressed against each other, surrounded just by Taylor’s sweet voice and some chatter.

“I never cheated” Chris breaks our silence, his muscle tensing under my hands. “I know that I don’t owe you an explanation and I know you probably are not going to believe me. But I didn’t. I promised to respect you, and I plan on sticking to that promise, fake husband or not”

I fix my eyes on the button of his shirt, not daring to look him at his eyes. “I know… I guess I just chose to believe it to have a reason to hate you. I’m sorry”

“Okay, let’s just put that behind us” Chris relaxes, his back slouching a bit. “We can be friends, Y/N. God knows how long we are going to need to keep this going, might as well get along”

“Pains me to say this, but you are right” I finally look up at him, his blue orbs staring down at me. “Hi, I’m Y/N. And you are?”

Chris throws his head back, laughing. “You have my last name, Y/N. We can start over without weird introductions”

“Indulge me, Evans” I poke his chest. “I don’t know that much about you”

“What do you want to know?” He raises his eyebrow. “Ask away”

“What’s your favorite color?” I blush, realizing how stupid my question is. “Sorry, I’ll try again”

“Green” He ignores my second statement. “Yours?”

“Blue, but like light blue, kinda like your e-“ I cut myself, my cheeks flaring.

“Here I was asking to be friends and you are just laying it out on me” Chris grins hard. “You waste no time, Ms. Evans”

“Idiot” I slap his arm playfully. “I meant I like the shade, that’s all”

“Sure sure” He nods, a smug look on his face. “My turn… Favorite animal?”

“Mmm tough one… I really like raccoons and-“ I stop myself when Chris’ laugh erupts from his chest. “What?”

“Who the fuck likes Raccoons?” His eyes are still tingling with amusement.

“They are cute and funny” I defend myself. “They are like just so hilarious”

“Fuck that’s good” He shakes his head. “You are weird”

“Many people like raccoons” I fight him. “You need to learn to appreciate their beauty”

“Yeah, no thanks” Chris stops moving and grabs my hand. “Why don’t we go back to the table? Seems stupid to try to have a conversation while dancing”

“Okie dokie” I follow his lead back to our VIP table.

Polly and Claire are deep into a conversation, probably some gossip or something like that. PR people always know everything about everyone. We sit down across from there, getting back their attention.

“Oh look, you guys made it without a scratch” Polly nods proudly. “Who would’ve thought?”

I roll my eyes before turning my eyes back to Chris, falling back into our conversation.

***

“Hi, bub” I lean down, my heels in on hand and the other one petting Dodger behind his ears. “Where you a good boy to uncle Scott?”

Scott was our designated dog-sitter most of the nights. Neither of them minded, Dodger loved him so much, he actually listened to him.

“He’s always a good boy” Chris bents down to plant a kiss over the dog’s head before walking away from the entry way.

I make my way to my room, Dodger following right behind me. I hear Chris yell “traitor” before I disappear into my closet.

A couple of minutes later, I’m tucked in my bed, Dodger at the edge, his head over my feet. Chris’ footsteps catch hims attention, his head snapping up. “You traitor”

“Let him be” I pull the dog closer to me. “He always sleeps with you”

Chris and I have separate rooms and I only sleep on the masters bedroom whenever we have other people around. People that don’t know about the whole fake marriage thing. Mostly the maid and the cook and both of our families. Even Scott believed we were happily married.

“Yeah, cuz he is mine” Chris sasses. “C’mon boy”

But Dodger stays put. “Just give up already”

“Fine, just this once” Chris drops the subject before snapping his head up. “Uh, I forgot. Do you have any spare razor? I forgot to ask Mayra to restock my shelf”

“Yeah sure” I move slowly so that dodger won’t sprint out of my bed. I push the covers away and step out of the bed.

Quickly, I reach the bathroom and pull a pink razor from the cabinet under my sink. “You’ll have to settle for this pink one” I stretch my hand before looking up, Chris’ eyes not exactly meeting mine.

Fuck. I forgot that I chose the pink nightgown. The one the gave me too much cleavage and barely reached under my butt cheeks. Nervously, I reach for my rob that’s draping over my night stand, snapping Chris’ attention away from my bare legs.

“Uh, yeah no, thanks” Chris mutters, snatching the razor from my hand and walking away from my room a bit to fast.

I shake my head a bit before moving back to my bed, Dodger still sprawled on the edge of the bed. “Let’s sleep this off, buddy”

About 10 minutes have passed since I turned off the lamp over my nightstand, when a weird sound startles me awake. I squint my eyes, as if that’s going to help me decipher the source of the noise. A couple of seconds later, right when I’m about to drop it, I hear it again. A moan. A moan from Chris. His bathroom shares a wall with my room, sounds slipping into my area really easy. I can hear his muffled moans a bit clearer, connecting my ear to the wall.

“This fucker” I feel anger bubbling inside of me. He brought someone home. After saying he wouldn’t cheat on my. Well not technically on me, on the promise of respecting me.

I push away the covers from my frame, earning a glare from Dodger before he moves to settle over the free side of the bed.

I walk fast towards his room, ready to rip him a new one. I push pass his door and head straight to the bathroom. I keep waiting for a pair of heels or some panties dropped somewhere on his room but my eyes remain cleaned from that sight. I’m about to burst into the bathroom when the imagine forming on front of me stops me cold on my feet.

Chris’ has his back against the wall, the shower head splashing his face, water dripping down his torso. His hand is pumping his swollen dick, curses coming out of his mouth along with the movement.

It’s like I am being hypnotized. I want to move my eyes away, but the scene in front of me so fiery, my eyes remain glued to his member. I feel a warm spreading in between my legs as Chris pumps harder. He lets out a hard loud moan as white loads burst from the tip of his dick. He huffs, rolling his head back, letting the water wash away all the produce of his effort.

I snap out of it, walking backwards fast before sprinting back to my room. I close my door slowly, making sure not to make a sound before hiding under my bed spread. I close my eyes hard trying to remove the picture from my head but the heat in between my legs not allowing me to.

I give up after 5 minutes, poking my hand out from under the bed covers. Without even looking, I dig my hand into my nightstand, searching for my pink vibrator. This will have to do for the night.

I have a plan for tomorrow.

***

“Let me get it off, bub” I bent down to release Dodger from his leash, the pup ready to sprint to the backyard.

Dodger and I love to go on hikes together, just the two of us and the sun rising over the horizon.

I hear from clattering from the kitchen so I step into the area, spotting Chris over the stools that surround the kitchen island. “Hey there”

“Morning” Chris looks up at me, as he sets his coffee down. “How was the hike?”

“Pretty good” I reach for the top cabinet, looking for a glass. Chris probably put the dishes away because the glasses are to far back, forcing me on my tip toes.

I can feel Chris’ eyes burning a hole over my ass as the my tennis skirt rises enough to expose the underside of my cheeks. I turn around and Chris snaps his gaze back to his omelet, his cheeks turning red.

I fill my glass with water and gulp it down, not taking my eyes from him. I settle the glass down before moving to stand in front of him, the kitchen island separating us.

“Let’s have sex” I say hard, so hard that Chris starts coughing as a piece of egg gets caught up in his throat.

“I’m sorry, what?” He looks up at me, his breath a bit hard from the chocking and maybe from my statement.

“Let’s have sex” I repeat myself. “You said you were not going to cheat and neither will I. But we both have needs and I think it’s a good idea”

“What are you even-?” Chris starts but I roll my eyes.

“I heard you last night” I confess. His face turns a deep shade of red, the vein on the side of his neck pulsing. “Look, I won’t judge you, I did it, too.

“You- what?” Chris’ breath hitches, his knuckles turning white as he closes his hands.

“C’mon we are not five” I step around the kitchen island, closer to him but still leaving some space between us. “We can get each other off, and we are married so it’s not like we are doing harm to anyone

“I don’t- I’m” Chris stammers a bit. “I’m not sure it’s a good idea”

I stare at him for a couple of seconds before finally speaking up again. “Fine, I’m not going to beg. I still have my vibrator. It’ll probably do a better job, anyways”

I turn around to leave but Chris’ hand flys up to my neck, gripping the back to turn me back around.

“What did you just said?” He brings his face close to mine. His grip tightening a bit. “Repite it”

“I can do a better job with my vibrator than you” I breath out, focusing my eyes on him.

Chris grunts before crashing his lips down to mine angrily. A moan scapes my mouth as he bits into my lower lip, making way for his tongue to punish me. His free hand travels down to my leg, pulling me up to place me on the kitchen counter.

I push my hands into his hair as his tongue swipes my bottom lip clean before moving down to my jaw and the to my neck before settling on the spot right under my earlobe. He sucks hard as his hands start pulling at my sports bra. My sweaty chest makes it a bit hard so I pull away to help him. As soon as the textile is not longer covering my boobs, Chris dives right in for one of my nipples, forcing me to arch my back. While his tongue polishes my hard nipple, his right hand moves to the other unattended bud of flesh. First his palm rolls against the harden button, his calloused skin sending tingles straight to my core.

“Fuck” I moan as I his salive drips down a long my nipple. I can’t keep my eyes away from the scene, my burning gaze forcing Chris to look up at me as he pulls my nipple with his teeth. “Oh god”

“Lay down” Chris pushes me down with his hand until my back connects with the cold granite of the counter.

I bring my hands to his shoulders, tugging at the fabric of his shirts, signaling him to take it off. “Get rid of this, Christopher”

“On it” He groans against my skin, stepping away just enough to pull the shirt over his head. His hard pecks and abdomen glistening in front of me, the pants forcing his muscles to look more prominent. “Satisfied?”

“No” I pull him down against my lips, my tongue making a mess of his bottom lip. “Take me like a man, Evans” I mutter against his lips.

“As you wish” Chris groans before moving his mouth down along my skin until it reaches the edge of my skirt. I wait for him to take it off but instead he just pushes it up and tucks down my underwear along with my leggings. He steps back a bit to pull his pants down, his boxers following the same fate.

“You know how many times my eyes were glued to your ass as you skipped around with this fucking skirt?” Chris growls as his spreads my thighs as my pussy radiates heat right in front of him. “How many times I picture your ass red after a good slapping, only this thine material covering the swell of your ass?”

I moan loudly as his hands grab my thighs, my ass hanging slightly over the edge of the counter. “I want you to be loud, Y/N” Chris pinches my butt cheek before lining himself up to me. “Moan my name”

“Yes, Chris” I throw my head back as he rubs my entrance with his tip “Rip me open”

Chris pushes just enough for his head to enter my pussy, my folds hiding his pink tip. “Yeah stretch me open” I throw my head back as he sways back and forth, entering me slowly.

“I can’t hold it anymore” Chris grips my thighs. “Brace yourself”

I grab the edge of the kitchen counter, my knuckles turning white as he pushes hard into me. There’s a sting that makes tears form on my eyes. I’ve never had someone this big inside of me, my pussy throbbing at the new feeling.

“Look at you” Chris presses his thumb against my clit. “Taking me so good” He throws his head back as his entire cock disappears into me. His thrusts are hard and slow, building up the tension in my lower belly.

“C’mere” Chris stops, pulling out so I cry at the loss of him. “Let me turn you around”

Chris puts me on my feet before turning me around so my ass is pressed against his hard cock. “Bend over, Y/N”

I do as I’m told, pressing my chest against the cold tiles. Chris grabs both of my hands and holds them behind my back, using the as support to hold himself as he re enters me. “That’s right. So tight”

I’m lost in my own moans when I feel Chris spit on his hand, before pressing his thumb against my asshole. “Chris” I tense up immediately.

“I’m not going to fuck you there, Y/N” He massages around my hole. “I just like to see the way you clench up” he caresses my butt cheek, trying to get me to loosen up again. “Do you want me to stop?”

He waits for my answer as I take in the sensation, his thumb placing a soft pressure over my hole. It’s not bad. “No, it’s okay”

“Good” Chris grunts as he picks up his pace, plunging hard against me. This new position really allows him to go in deep, reaching a new part of me that has me whimpering.

“Chris” I whine when he angles himself so that I can feel him fill me up to the point where me knees are shaking under me. “I won’t last”

“Yes, cum around my cock” He reaches down to grab my pony tail in a fist, making me arch my back. His movements become erratic as he speeds up, encouraging the orgasm out of me.

“Yes yes yes” I cry as I feel the tightness around my pussy before the release finally arrives. The cries that come out of ny mouth are filthy, so filthy that Chris drops down and plugs in his thumb into my mouth. I bit at his skin, the waves of pleasure still rocking my core.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck” Chris groans as he pulls out, his entire load landing on my back. “Fuck yes”

I’m still shaking, waiting for him to catch his breath so that he can help me stand up. “Chris, fuck that was…”

I’m so out of breath I don’t even finish my sentence, Chris doing it for me. “So hot”

I feel him pull away from me, a cool breeze replacing the warmth of his body. “Don’t move” I hear him move around the kitchen, looking for a clean towel before running it down the the warm water that pours out of the faucet.

Chris walks back to me, cleaning his entire release from my back. “I think you need to wash your hair” I can hear the grin on his smug face.

“Seriously?” I groan, standing up. “Aim better next time, Evans”

“You want a next time?” He throws the dirty towel at the floor where my sweaty clothes are.

“I’m game if you are” I shrug, tugging the elastic out of my hair.

“Then let’s play, Y/N” Chris grins hard as his dick starts twitching.

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

New series coming your waaaay🩵 hope you guys like this

[whumpcloud]

okay wait i had a funny thought about them being younger. imagine getting into some guy's car and his feral teenage sister jumps out from the back and chloroforms you

i think about the wainwrights a normal amount i think about the wainwrights a normal amount i think about the wainwrights a normal amount <- hoping if they say it enough times it will be true

[muneca-lemon-steppa]

Interviews for New Beginnings: Part 7

Alfie Solomons x Fem! Reader, 3.7k words, WARNINGS: mentions of blood, injury, stitches, cursing, violence

Guys... is it weird that I'm crying a little? This is the first series that I've ever done. This is from the first post i ever made on this blog, and I feel like I've met so many amazing people from this series. I did spend a good amount of time thinking of a good way to close this series, and I can only hope that I made it good enough for you guys. My heart breaks leaving these two behind, but I don't think this is the end for them. I do see myself writing some one shots or other things for these two. But regardless... I love you guys so much. I hope you enjoy this final installment. Sending all of my love always. - Mo

---

Any soldier worth his salt knows what getting shot feels like. Either through their own experience or staying beside their brother. They all say the same thing.

A hard punch.

The immediate all encompassing burn.

Your body feels like you’ve been run over by a train.

Your body on fire.

Air sliding through your lungs like glass shards.

Alfred Solomons has been shot five times.

Six counting this one. The first time was when he was 14, and he was caught snatching sweets from the corner store, and the old store owner with the bad eyes shot at Alfie, grazing his left thigh. The other four times were in the war. Foot and shoulder and once in the lower back, which is still troubling him to this day. All of those were the same. Rage inducing. The bloodlust burning brighter than the flame of the pain. In hours he was fixed up. Rusty scalpels and pliers pulling out the shrapnel as he numbed the cuts by drowning in drink and breaking metal bars with his teeth.

This one was different. The burn and hit was memorable. As memorable as a betrayal. But the bloodlust that got him through that burn wasn’t present. Like warm oil being poured over his mind and body he felt the exhaustion of the tears settle over him. And look. An angel has come to take him to stay with the forefathers. Wow… what a mercy… the angel looks so much like you. Sounds and smells just like you. Like lavender. Like spilled ink and fresh paper. So soft and tender. What a mercy God has given him. That the angel to walk him to the other side would look like the only woman he has ever truly loved.

Tommy and Ollie rush over, as John pulls you away from Alfie's body. You screamed and kicked, trying to get free from John's grasp. "It's alright love it's alright. They're going to fix him up I promise love! He's gonna be ok!" John tried to calm you but you were inconsolable as you saw Alfie's lifeless body being carried out. It takes four men to life his large and hardened body off the ground, a pool of garnet the only sign of the King of Camden’s presence.

John’s attempts at soothing and assurance are met with deaf ears. What point is there for calm and rationalization when Alfie might be leaving you. What point was there to breathe, if breathing meant prolonging a life on Earth that may not have Alfie. Your mind was blank. And you body could do the only rational thing it could do. Wail and preparation for the certain mourning to come.

With a hard smack across your face you suddenly cease, as you see Polly's face in front of you, "Enough! This is not the time for screaming!"

Your lip quivered, never had you been smacked like that before. With a wave, Polly dismissed John to assist Ollie and Tommy, and took you to a chair to sit. Polly wiped your tears, "I am sorry for slapping you, usually I don't smack friends till we are at least 3 months acquainted, but I felt you needed it and I'm sure our friendship will survive. But you need to pull it together darling."

You nodded. It was needed. Even if your ego was now bruised. Polly sighed, "I know you're scared. We all have been in your shoes. But you cannot lose yourself. We need to be there for our men. Yes?"

You nodded. Your man. Your Alfie. Polly stroked your face, "He will live.”

“How can you be sure?”

Polly gives you an embarrassed look, attempting to push up the corner of her mouth, “They always do darling. Try as they might to die, they somehow always make it out. I think God may think these episodes are more of a punishment than Hell.”

A defeated chuckle pushes out of your chest. Alfie would say something as dark as that. And for some reason that makes you feel better. Makes you feel more centered. Polly grabs a bottle from the ground and takes a long swig before passing it to you. You take a longer one, pushing to suppress the sick face you make. Polly’s eyes are glassy, looking at your young face. Thinking and considering how you would handle this. Handle this life. Because if her intuition was right, and it always was, this wouldn’t be the last time you experienced this. This wouldn’t deter you from being next to Alfie. As if Alfie would ever let you go.

Polly stood up suddenly, looking in the gilded mirror on the wall nearest to her, smoothing her dress and repinning those loose curls that fell out in the fray. She holds out a regal hand to you, “C’mon dear. I know where they’d be taking him. He’ll want you near I wager.”

You nod and stand up, not making anymore to wipe the blood or tears off your face. Though it doesn’t stop Polly from straightening out your slip and placing your hair more akin to how you came in. As you begin walking to the door, you see a familiar glint in the shadows and wet of the floor.

Alfie’s signet ring. Small. Small for Alfie at least. You knew him to wear it on his left pinky amongst the rest of his rings. Pure gold, with a royal S engraved onto its front with ivy and thorns. You pause to pick it up and hold it in your hand. It must have slipped off in the scuffle and removal of his body. Polly looked behind herself to see what had made you stop, and marveled at how you had even caught it, “How did you even see that?”

“I suppose I’m just good at looking for his things.”

Polly smiled softly, a familiar ache in her chest reappearing. “Well make sure you don’t drop it hmm? I’m sure he’ll want it back.”

You nod, immediately slipping it onto your left ring finger. You knew innately it wouldn’t budge. It was a perfect fit.

The Shelby family had a trusted physician who routinely dealt with these sort of things. Stand. Cuts. Gunshots. The occasional childhood scrape or concussion when the children needed a good scolding and scare to not be stupid. Dr. Hendricks had been the Shelby physician for many many years. So when he was called for ‘a slight emergency’ he knew that he needed to make immediate preparations.

The Shelby boys and Ollie bashed in the ornate door of Dr. Hendricks’ door, and were immediately met with Mrs. Hendricks pushing the men into the dining room. Already prepped and cold with sterile air Dr. Hendricks directed further with a low and booming voice, “Right here Mr. Shelby, hurry, can’t risk anymore blood loss.”

Alfie was pale, but was still breathing and choking out small groans. Mrs. Hendricks worked diligently alongside the Doctor, who asked questions and made conversation with the men, trying to bring down the tension. “Mr. Solomons boys? Why the sudden fit of charity.”

Mrs. Hendricks hushed him and his sore mouth. But his cheek was what made him so beloved by the Shelbys. Even in what seemed like dire moments, the good Doctor was never one to shy away from a joke or jab. Suddenly Alfie groaned under the crowd. Tommy looked down, shocked Alfie was awake now. Alfie, through the pain and blood, groaned and moaned your name through his teeth. Tommy grabbed Alfie’s arm, “Alright Alfie alright. She’s coming. Took a little bit of a hit didn’t ya old man? You stay awake now for her yeah? Can’t let the girl see ya like this.”

The pain was a hell of a drug, and Alfie could only slur out, “She ok? That little viper make it out ok?”

Tommy could only smile. Even with all the blood loss he was still himself. “Yeah Alfie. Yeah she’s alright. A right harpy screaming out for ya. Now you gotta get fixed up for when she comes back alright?”

Alfie nodded, slipping in and out as the final fragments were being removed, “As soon as im stitched up… I’m killing every Sabini I see. Then I’m fuckin marrying her… you hear me?”

Tommy smiled as Dr. Hendricks scoffed, “I hear you Alfie. I know you will.”

Alfie passed back out on the table. Dr. Hendricks nodded at Tommy and Ollie, “He’ll be alright. Nearly hit some vital organs but it’s alright. Have a nasty scar though, I’m sure he won’t mind. He’ll probably sleep for the rest of the night and into the morning. You all stay here, let’s keep an eye on him yeah? Mrs. Hendricks? Would you call the kitchen to make some supper for the gentlemen here and ladies to come?”

Mrs. Hendricks and the kitchen must have indeed been witches in a past life, or in the present. because there was no logical reason that such a warm and delectable feast could have been prepared so quickly. Soup and bread and cold chicken brought up with strong tea and coffee. When John Shelby asked for gin, his head was swiftly smacked by the effervescent Mrs. Hendricks, who quickly reminded him that she knew where all his sore spots were.

Polly and you arrived soon enough, and were embraced by the Doctor and his wife. The Shelby men stood up quickly, nodding to you in respect. Ollie shucked off his coat to drape over you. It was warm in the house. But your shivering wasn’t for cold.

Before you could look to Dr. Hendricks, he gruffed out from behind his thick salt and pepper beard, “No need to fret Miss. He was a model surgical patient. Nearly slept through the entire thing. In fact that stomach of his is a model for good stitchin’ would you like to see?”

Before Dr. Hendricks could pull back the clean and crisp cotton laid over Alfie’s bare torso to show you his no doubt fantastic work, Mrs. Hendricks stopped with a cherub like hand on his thick arm, “My dear, I don’t think the lady would feel keen on seeing her darling cut and stitched. Maybe some other time yes? Why don’t we let her have time alone with Mr. Solomons? It’s late. I think we should all retire yes?”

With a look around the room everyone nodded, giving their best to you and expressing incredible thank to the Doctor and Mrs. Hendricks. The Shelby boys tipped their hats to you as they filed out. Ollie nodded to you, assuring you that he’d alert your family of your whereabouts. Polly gave you a motherly hug, kissing the tip of your head, “Chin up dear. Must be strong when he wakes up. I’ll stop by tomorrow.”

As soon as you came in, you were left alone. With the soft voice of Mrs. Hendricks pulling out of your numb trance. “Let’s get you cleaned up dear. Get you in something a little more comfortable. My daughter was about your size, and I have some of her clothes in her old room.”

Like a child who just woke out of a long slumber, you were lead down the short hallways littered with photos and paintings and certificates to the now guest room of the Hendricks home. Once she realized you had gone nearly despondent, Mrs. Hendricks helped you out of your stained dress, and into a soft cream colored night gown, with pink ribbon threaded through the top. She called one of the maids bring up hot water to wash the makeup, dirt, and dried crusted blood off your face and arms. Your dress was taken to be washed, and Mrs. Hendricks un-pinned your hair, getting it loose and out of your face. She sat you back in the make shift hospital room once she assured your were comfortable and clean. She poured tea for you. Something strong. Something hot. Your thumb rubbed across the delicate ridges on the cup, incredibly interested in the greenery hand painted on the china. Unable to face the near stillness of Alfie on a table.

“You love him don’t you?”

You feel those tears welling up in your eyes. Unable to speak any louder than a whisper, you confess, “Very much.”

She smiled softly, placing her thick soft hands on your knee, “He called for you.”

You looked up, “Did he?”

A soft chuckle left her, and she sounded so much like your mother, “He did. That’s the thing about these military gangster men yeah? Big and strong and tough. Till they get hurt. Then they cry for their women. I think we are the only things that help.”

You nodded, a pained smile sneaking on your lips, hands gingerly slipping into his rough hands. So much gentler now in sleep. Your eyes never leave his hands as you ask, “How do you stand it? How does any woman stand it?”

Mrs. Hendricks just sighs. Remembering the old days with her dear husband James. Back when he running with the Lee boys. When the medical practice wasn’t just a medical practice. There was a reason he was so good at stitching people up. Mrs. Hendricks leaned back in the chair, “By trusting them. By scolding them. Telling them off when they’re being outrageous. By standing by them. Because we know even a little bit of time with them is better than a life without them.”

Mrs. Hendricks then stands up, “It’s nearly 2 sweetie. Why don’t you take Jeanine’s old room? He’ll be there when you wake up.”

You shake your head vehemently, “No. Thank you Mrs. Hendricks. Thank you very much for your hospitality. But I want to be here when he wakes. I just… I don’t want to leave him here alone.”

She softly smiles, a tear slipping by, “Alright sweetie. That’s fine. I’ll bring you a couple blankets then. And a pillow just in case. Feel free to walk around the house if you need. Kitchen is all yours.”

You’re not sure how long you stayed awake after the gifts of the blankets were delivered. But you never laid down. You sat on one of the chairs placed on the dining room table where Alfie laid. You brushed the hair out of his face and ran your fingers over his beard and scars. You rattled off the notes you had for the gaming club. You whispered to him about the set up, the prices, and how he should really be more affable with the customers. But mostly you whispered how much you loved him. How much you wished you had told him sooner. How much he scared you doing that. You chastised him for putting himself in such grave danger. And for every insult and admonishment you kissed a knuckle and scar. Every kiss an oath that you would not leave him. Not willingly. Not before death.

It was mid morning when Alfie’s gruff voice woke you, “Well ain’t you a picture.”

You gasped and sat up straight, hand clutching Alfie’s warm hand. His hand squeezed back tiredly, “Now I know I’m damned… but this sure don’t look like hell… too nice ain’t it. And I know the devil wouldn’t let an angel like you in hell with me.”

“Oh shut up you wretched old man please.”

You crashed your lips into his, relishing even in his slightly chapped lips as he chuckled into you. You feel him move under you, “Now now sweetheart easy on the old man. Don’t go popping my stitches now. Oh treacle why are you crying my dove? I’m here ain’t I? Old Alfie’s alright.”

You couldn’t help the tears falling, “I… Alfie I… you nearly died.”

He sneered, “Nah. The bastard barely nicked me. What about you eh? No bumps or bruises on you?”

You shook your head and sniffled. You knew you looked pathetic but you couldn’t bring yourself to care. Not when Alfie was alive. Not when you got to see him in the morning light like this. Alfie groaned as he pushed himself off the table. You moved to help him as he motioned you to settle. He got up, limped to another chair to sit down. The stitches held and he looked good. Still a bit pale but good. “Do you need water Alfie? Tea? I can call for breakfast.”

He shook his head, “No not yet love thank you… but come here.”

The wood floors were cold on your bare feet as you softly walked over to him. He stared up at you, as he tugged on your nightgown, signaling you to sit. Carefully… oh so carefully you sat on his lap, legs swinging over the side, wrapping your arms around his neck. Alfie leaned back with a sigh, bringing you closer, “This is all I need treacle. Just need you near.”

Stroking the scar on his jaw you whispered, “I was so scared Alfie… I thought we’d lost you.”

With half lidded eyes Alfie stared at you. Your sweet lips and teary eyes. A picture of beauty and serenity. The rough callouses on his hands caressed up and down your bare arms, “You’re never going to lose me dearie. I’ll always be here. No matter what. You know why?”

The way his eyes become like fire makes your heart beat faster, “Why?”

He brings your hand to his heart. His own hand dwarfing yours as you feel the strong and steady heartbeat in his chest, “Because this sweetheart… this belongs to you… No matter what happens… in this life the next one and every other fuckin one… I belong to you. You ain’t ever got to worry about what might happen because I’m with you. You got it?”

You smile, nodding, feeling as though your heart is going to burst, “My heart belongs to you Alfie.”

“You don’t have to say it back treacle.”

“I do if it’s the truth.”

A blush rose in his cheeks, barely concealed by his beard and the smile that broke out on his face. “Well… treacle… if that’s the case… I wanted to ask you in a more romantic way…”

“Alfred Solomons…”

“But this seems like a good time…”

“I swear if you dare ask me…”

“And we never know what’s to happen next…”

“Alfred Solomons I am in a night gown!”

“Woman if you do not be quiet I am trying to ask you to be my wife!!”

Your hand flies to your mouth in utter shock. Alfie’s brows are furrowed but he’s trying to keep the smile off his face, “Marry me sweetheart. Be my wife please. I can’t promise that I’ll suddenly be a tame boy but I can promise you that I love you more than any other man ever could love a woman. You can scold me all you want and I’ll never be cross with you.”

He watches you bite your lip and think, and he thinks he’s died and gone to heaven for real this time. You cheekily smile, “I do like it when you’re cross though.”

A dark glint flashes in his eyes as he pulls you in for a bruising kiss, which you all too willingly return. When you come up for air he asks you again, “Is that a yes? You going to be my wife?”

You laugh, “Yes Alfie. Always yes.”

Laughs escaped out of you in a stampede as he presses a million prickly kisses to your cheeks. He mumbles out onto your face, "I need to get you a ring. We'll go to the shop yeah? You pick out any ring you like, I'll resize whatever I need to. Fuck we'll design it for ya yeah?"

You push him back from his assault on your face and hold up your left hand, The one holding his signet, "One could say I have one already. You dropped it on the way over."

Alfie grabbed your wrist to inspect your hand. When he finally recognized the ring and noticed his own was missing, his laughter roared out, "Fuck me you are always so prepared. Always two steps ahead of me ain't ya? Well alright treacle. There's your engagement ring for now. But on our wedding day, I'm giving you a dazzling rock you hear me?"

You laugh again as he rants and raves for his idea of a ring for you. Knowing inside that it didn't matter what he gave you. If he gave you a ring at all. All that mattered was that he was here. He was yours. And you are is.

6 Months Later

The slow sea air dances in through the open window, sending the gossamer curtains floating around you. The radio scratches out something slow and tantalizing from America, the notes sending shivers down your spine. You're dizzy from the night you've had. The butterflies and bubbly drinks and spinning along the floor. You can't believe it happened. You can't believe your wedding day arrived. You feel as though you're amongst the clouds. The only thing keeping you anchored to the Earth is Alfie's grip on your white satin slip as you sway against him to the music.

Late at night. Early morning. Too much work to tell. But it was the first time in a week that you've been able to be alone with Alfie. Your husband.

"What're you thinking about my love?"

You press your face against his chest, shirt long discarded, "I'm just so happy. I didn't think I'd have this. That we'd have this.'

He hums as he presses his lips to your hair, smelling the perfume that had been brushed through your hair. "But we have it now. This is the greatest gift I've ever received. This is the life I've always dreamed of sweet."

You continue to dance with your husband until your bodies couldn't take it anymore. Soon enough he carried you to bed, quickly drifting off into deep sleep in Alfie's arms. In the morning you would wake not as a secretary. Not as a scared girl. Not as someone who felt as she didn't belong. But as Alfie's wife. Alfie's partner. A confidant. A capable woman running a business alongside her best friend. Tomorrow you would wake up excited for this next part of your life. Waking up to a new beginning.

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