#Eye Test Blackpool

[bubbleeyecareuk]

Bubble Eye Care UK

Bubble Eyecare carry out thorough eye tests using the latest portable optical equipment. We will look for eye health conditions like glaucoma, macular degeneration, and cataracts. An optician can also detect underlying health conditions such as Diabetes and High blood pressure. You will be given as much time necessary, so we can give you the best possible care and advice. We will bring a variety of spectacles, from full rimmed to rimless, so everyone can find the perfect pair. We offer single vision lenses, bifocals, and different varifocal designs to suit your requirements.

[bubbleeyecare]

Eye Test Blackpool State-of-the-Art Pupil Dilation

Eye Test Blackpool team of mobile opticians in Blackpool mean even if you struggle to leave your home unaccompanied, you can still have an eye test. Blackpool, Lytham, Fleetwood or Kirkham, our opticians provide home visits.

[bullet-clubs-bitch]

Single Mother

Blackpool Combat Club X Fem Reader

The Blackpool combat club’s reaction to you becoming a single mom

Main Masterlist

I woke up in the morning feeling like absolute garbage. This whole week I had just been feeling off. I thought it might be stress with everything going on lately but I knew what stress felt like. I was sick, not sick as in I have a cold, just sick. Tony hadn’t been booking me TV due to my sickness and I was grateful for that. However, being a part of the Blackpool Combat Club meant I would still have to be at every show and be ringside for the boy’s matches. Currently, I sat on the large couch in our private locker room eating crackers since it was the only thing I could hold down. I had never felt so sick in my entire life, this was unlike me. I never was sick, I was always ready for a fight. I needed to be. I know this frightened the BCC, they didn’t know what to do. Alone with my thoughts, Bryan entered the room with a concerned look in his eyes. 

“How are you feeling?” he asked nervously. “Like shit” I responded. I could see the gears turning in his head, I wondered what he was thinking. “What are your symptoms again?”  “Nausea, dizziness, some morning sickness. I just feel horrible. Why do you ask?” Bryan knew my symptoms, he and Mox were dealing with my sick ass all week. “I’m just thinking. Do you think that you could be pregnant?” Bryan oddly calm. “Why would you think I’m pregnant?” I asked him confused. “I’m just trying to think why you have been so sick recently. I also have two kids, ya know. I think I know pregnancy symptoms when I see them” This whole conversation between Bryan and I made me uncomfortable, yet he had a point. The more I thought about it, maybe I was pregnant. I didn’t even realize that I missed my period. 

It felt like the longest five minutes of my life as I awaited the results from the piece of plastic I held in my hand. This couldn't be happening right now, no way I could be pregnant. I paced around the small washroom as I awaited the results. The entire BCC stood on the other side of the door, guarding it like their lives depended on it. “What does it say?” yelled Mox through the door. “Nothing yet” I responded. After a few more moments of panicking the five minutes were up. I was too scared to look at the results. I wasn’t ready to be a mother, let alone a single mother! How would I explain this to everyone?

I looked at the test and felt my stomach drop. Two lines, I was pregnant. I didn’t know what to do, I didn’t know what to say. “Is everything okay in there?” Bryan asked carefully. I said nothing as I opened the door. They could tell by the tears that I was pregnant. I was greeted by a big group hug as I sobbed. We were the most badass faction in this company, what would people say about this? “It’s okay, It’s okay Y/n,” They told me as they ushered me back into our locker room. “No, it’s not okay. How the fuck am I supposed to raise a child!” I confessed 

“We will all help you” Bryan assured me “You don’t have to make a decision right now but whatever you do we will be there for every second” Claudio explained “We are family. You have nothing to worry about Y/n” I didn’t know what would happen, this was a lot to take in but I was grateful I had these guys who would be there for me for every second of it. 

[daddyhausen]

• violence. — wheeler yuta •

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{ masterlist } | { aew masterlist } | { wheeler yuta masterlist }

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{ summary } — despite a win, fury flooded through him, he needed to let that violence out one way or another

{ warnings } — 18 + { minors do not interact }, small injury spitting, domination, submissive x dominant dynamic, angry sex, face slapping, blood/blood play impact play, choking, breath play finger sucking, degradation, fingering dacryphilia, face fucking, oral sex { male receiving }, facials, cumshots, spanking, pussy slapping, forced orgasms , multiple orgasm, male + female orgasms, internal cumshots, rough sex, penetrative sex, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, creampie, squirting

{ word count } — 2k

{ pairing } — fem!reader x wheeler yuta

{ genre } — smut

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{ taglist } — @cosmoholic13 @thewrestlingbitch @omg-im-such-a-masochist @baysexuality @slut4kennyomega @wardlow @alexisquinnlee-bc @sammiejane22 @im-just-a-mississippi-girl @omegasluvbot @melissahausen @writtingrose @drummergrl1310 @unoficialy-married-to-ace-austin @bonehead-playz @cherrytheeredheadmamaclaymore @crowleysqueenofhell @romanreigns-supreme @janetreader @thenerdybaker523 @sunshinevirus @nicoleveno14 @rubyred1980 @elsteenerico @igncrxntripley @ripleyswhore

{ beta readers } — @allelitesmut + @legit9thlunaticwarrior

{ comment if you want to be added to the taglist }

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it all seemed a blur, the motion of his fist collided with the cold brick with a sickening thud, the way he showed no emotion after the fact, simply staring with a calloused scowl, completely unmoved by the tiny chips of red brick and fresh blood that flooded the pale skin of his knuckles. he’d been hardened, battle-tested by mox and the rest of the blackpool combat club. pain was nothing to him, certainly nothing he’s not been through already. still you could not help but stand in disbelief as the uncanny look of rage burned deep within him.

he’d won the match, hell, he got the pin and over kenny omega of all people. yet there was a thirst still lurking, hungry for more violence and bloodshed. punching the wall seemed like the only logical option to let said anger out.

without a word you pried his knuckles from the brick, noticing how the little chips of terracotta red stained his skin, small cuts forming around them as warm pools of blood slowly began to seep to the surface. you cupped his hand in yours, daintily, almost afraid that the slightest movement would set him off, still he remained stoic, eyes fixated on the wall still

“on your knees. now.” he muttered through a scowl, teeth clenched with a subtle growl to his words. you blinked a couple of times, you heard him of course but still could not help but be perplexed by his statement. his hand rose once more, tangling his long digits in your hair, tugging at the scalp, pushing you to your knees before him.

“you playing dumb with me, sweetheart?” his question, although rhetorical, left an unsavoury ringing in your ears. “when i tell you to do something, you better fucking do it”

the words, the actions, it just was not him, mox had definitely taught him a thing or two that’s for sure. his hand remained in your hair, tugging at the roots every so often to make sure you were looking up at him, throwing in a slap or two just for good measure. your eyes would fall to his bulge, prominent, yet hidden behind the black jeans he was sporting in place of his usual ring gear. they sat low on his hips, v-line prominent as your eyes scanned his figure.

his free hand, quick with its movements, undid the button of his jeans. in quick succession his cock now free from the shield of the fabric, slapping his tip against the swell of your bottom lip. he did not ask for you to open wide, instead using his tip to pry your mouth open, forcing himself down your throat.

“fuck…” he groaned out, elongating the word, holding himself in your throat for a few seconds. he could already begin to see the glimmer in your eyes, how they stung and burned each time you tried to inhale a breath, wet and teary, beginning to drip down your cheeks. he had not even started moving and already had you clawing at his thighs for air.

“pathetic…” he pulled back slightly, allowing the smallest chance at a breath, before slamming his cock down the back of your throat with such lovely force. he propped your skull in both hands, your mouth nothing more than a fleshlight, a toy for his pleasure only.

you managed to sneak a glance up at him, through teary, burning eyes. his head hung back in pleasure, tongue parting his lips, mouth hung slightly agape, pleasure dripping from every moan and groan that left his throat.

“feels so fucking good…” he increased the momentum of his hips, keeping your head close as he held himself down your throat once more, adoring the sounds of chokes gurgles and barely-there breaths. you nails dig into his exposed thighs, clawing down the skin with deep red marks. he’d noticed some of the blood from his knuckles beginning to drip down his wrist, on your forehead, he smirked down at the sight, loving how well the shade of ruby complemented your skin tone. he pulled away for a second, smearing the droplet of blood across your face

“you look so fucking good covered in blood, princess” he whispered through his teeth, slamming your head down onto his cock so hard that he was sure to bruise the back of your throat. “it gets me off quicker knowing that it’s my blood”

he came down your throat without warning, pulling away at the last second to let the final droplets of his cum coat your lips and chin. he took the moment to admire you, face covered in fresh blood and cum, you looked even more intoxicating than usual. your eyes rolled back from the wonderful abuse of his cock, tongue jutting out just past your lips, already looking so fucked out. he smiled down you for a moment before spitting in your face, following it up with another harsh slap to your cheek. you whimpered at the feeling, but it did nothing more than fuel the pulse between your thighs.

“get up.” he dragged you by your hair to the bed. throwing you into the mattress without a care. fingers locked into the thin fabric of your tight mini dress, tearing the material from your body with ease. his eyes peered down darkly, noticing that you’d gone bare underneath, skin so pristine and untouched.

“such a needy little whore aren’t you? showing up here with no panties under your dress, you must really be craving my dick” he offered a rough spank to your ass, one that left you whimpering with pleasure. he spun you around, back now pressed into the cheap, thin hotel mattress, hips angles upward slightly, giving him a perfect view of your dripping cunt.

“like the view?” you teased playfully, noticing how mesmerised he was with your void, he blinked a couple of times before answering with a quick slap to your cunt, the sensation made your thighs close instinctively, only for him to pry them open with little resistance, he let two fingers enter you, curling up at the sensation of your warmth, exploring your void. he glanced down between your thighs, noticing how your cunt had reddened from that single slap, how swollen your clit was. it seemed to only arouse him more, offering yet another slap, one which left you a whining mess. as much as he wanted to continue to see you unravel on his fingers, he desperately needed to get his dick wet.

“of course, baby. but…” he stalled for a moment, positioning himself between your thighs, “it’ll look better with my cock buried in it”

his lips parted with a small breath, eyes gazing down at you ravenously, the brown of his irises seemed darker, more lustful, more fixated. the sensation between your thighs only grew, the tip of his cock gliding against and parting your delicious folds with such ease, leaving your lover marvelling at the slickness, how it glistened under the warm yellow glow of the bedside lamp. your stomach whirling in excitement, anticipation crawling beneath your skin. he remained silent, offering you no warning as to when he was going to begin, he kept you on edge for a moment, a small smirk crossed his lips, watching on as you held a breath on your chest

he watched your eyes roll back in pleasure, that breath you’d been holding now a startled gasp being lustfully ripped from your throat, mouth hung agape as a moan rolled off your tongue. he found himself buried deep in you, savouring the subtle pulse of you around his shaft. he gave a soft grunt, his hips snapping against yours with a solid thrust. he’d noticed the paleness in your knuckles, how tense your grasp on the bed sheets were, how avoidant your gaze had become, not due to lack of pleasure, none of the sort. it was a wonderful feeling, it made you feel so lightweight as if you were floating, even with the minimal strokes he gave. a kind of pleasure that only seems real in dreams, hence why you felt as if you physically could not open your eyes.

he gripped your throat tightly, a slender hand wrapping around just under your jaw, thumb slowly tracing across your bottom lip to part them. the sensations seemed to have jostled you from your trance, peering up at him through glassy eyes, as he offered another rough thrust.

“what?” he mocked.

“does my dick feel that good?”

he gave you no time to respond, not even being able to reciprocate a simple nod before he began his movements, such rough thrusts leaving you feeling so full within seconds. he kept a hand wrapped around your throat, effectively keeping you in place for the moment, all the while your choked moans rumbled in your throat, spit dripping off the tip of your tongue as your mouth hung open.

“f-fuck…” you barely managed to breathe out, the word mixed in with a moan, feeling him so violently fuck you out, legs propped up, knees at your chest, he practically had you folded in half, pressing himself down against you, his cock sinking deeper into your cunt.

“look at you, can’t even speak properly. how pathetic”

his thrusts were violent, more so than usual. it was different, yes the passion was still obviously there, yet he seemed more vicious, more dominant. you enjoyed it, evident by the swell of arousal in your belly and the pool of wetness between your thighs. he could feel you tighten around him, it was rhythmic, like a heartbeat, clenching around his cock in almost perfect intervals. moans heightened with every thrust, so much so you thought the other residents of the hotel would surely put in a noise complaint.

“you’re gonna cum for me, right now” he growled, pressing his forehead to yours

“b-but i-“ you stammered before he cut you off

“i don’t give a fuck! you’re gonna make a mess around my cock, do you understand me?!”

the loudness of his voice made your ears ring, he’d increased the speed of his thrusts, trying to force an orgasm out of you. the pleasure was overbearing, making your head spin with each movement, you cried out to him, begging for mercy. you could not even comprehend your orgasm, pushing your hips up against his, feeling your sweet warmth gushing from between your thighs, feeling him smirk into your jawline

“that’s it you filthy slut, make a fucking mess” his voice more at a whisper, still it did not deter his vicious movements, he kept the same pace until he spilled over. so rough, so violent as he came inside you with zero warning, adoring the way you so graciously accepted his seed.

“so wet, so warm…your cunt is so perfect baby” he continued to thrust beyond his orgasm, making sure he filled you with every last drop of his cum. he remained inside you for the moment, letting the warmth of your cunt pulse around his size, he laid his head atop your chest, face buried into the crook of your neck, lip lingering against your skin.

“i didn’t scare you did i?” he mumbled breathlessly, now noticing the dried dots of crimson against your jawline, tracing over it daintily with his injured hand, wincing slightly upon realising his own injury

“no..” you remarked, fingers twirling the short strands of black hair that stuck to his forehead, he peered up at you, his gaze now softer than before.

“i mean it was kinda scary seeing you all violent like that but it was such a huge turn on”

he hummed into your skin, smiling into the subtle kiss he left there. hands already beginning to roam your figure once more.

“maybe i should be more rough with you all the time” he stated, leaving a lingering kiss to your jawline, injured hand coming up to groped your breast again before you sat up, much to his dismay

“let me help you fix that hand up first, then round two in the shower”

his eyes lit up at the suggestion, already making his way to the bathroom

“you don’t have to tell me twice!”

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[omg-im-such-a-masochist]

𝚂𝚝𝚘𝚌𝚔𝚘𝚕𝚖 - 𝙲𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝟷

Pairing: Blackpool Combat Club x Fem!Reader

Warnings: +18, adult content, semi-erotic content, harsh language, dub-con, mild psychological torture, yandere vibes.

Tags: @theworldofotps , @writtingrose , @aerynscrichton , @daddyhausen , @melissahausen , @unoficialy-married-to-ace-austin , @sophiewolfheart-blog , @sultryfandoms , @new-zealand-chic , @crowleysqueenofhell , @thealliasylum , @legit9thlunaticwarrior , @adamjf , @josiewrites , @seeingstarks , @irish-newzealand-idian-dutch , @whenimakeitshine1234 , @moxkindagirl , @sunshinevirus , @im-just-a-mississippi-girl , @ripleyswhore

𝙿𝚛𝚘𝚕𝚘𝚐𝚞𝚎

She had been placed inside a bedroom now. The secluded cabin in the woods was rustic, built of wood and with the classic decor of animal fur, leather armchairs, and red plaid fabric. It was cozy, even under the circumstances she was currently in. “It could be worse”, she thought, “I could still be tied up to a chair inside that basement”.

She caught herself staring at the deer’s head on top of the bed. Its black eyes called for her, it whispered something, perhaps it was a warning? A message? She couldn’t quite understand what it was saying, what it was trying to tell her. Its words we’re getting unclearer the more she stared at it. She tried to piece the message together, but something wasn’t quite right…

“It’s fake” A deep voice stated from behind her, making her squeal and rapidly turning around to see the perpetrator of her almost heart attack.

Blue eyes gleamed with amusement at her, much like the playful smirk he had cemented to his thin lips. The lollipop stick danced around his mouth as he continued:

“Bryan is vegan, so he didn’t want any real dead animals inside the cabin. He likes the visuals of the decor aspect of it, but ‘no real corpses’!” Moxley mocked Bryan’s way of speaking and the small joke earned a faint giggle from her. He considered that a win, one step closer to make her fully trust him.

“You got the coolest room. I’m jealous” Mox teased, pointing with his chin towards the deer head on the wall.

“Oh! The youngest man just shoved in here. I didn’t have much of a choice” She shrugged

“Yuta?” He asked and she nodded in return. “Well, would you like to check out the other rooms? You can choose the one you like the most”

“N-no!” She was quick to answer, too quick for her own liking. She needed to be subtle, play possum for now until she could figure a way out of here. “Thank you. I don’t want to upset anyone”.

Moxley frowned at her statement. She seemed distressed, back into her shell, suspicious. “Fucking Yuta and his stupid teenage-like hormones! He’s fucking ruining everything!” Mox thought to himself before he focused his attention back on her. “Are you hungry?”

“Yes, a little bit”

Upon her statement, Mox cupped her face in his hand and began to rub her cheek back and forth with his thumb, “I’ll have someone bring you a snack or something, so you won’t starve until dinner”.

She saw it in his eyes, there was something inside the blue orbs that demonstrated some level of vulnerability, and that she could use in her favor.

“Thank you” She whispered, casually leaning into his touch, testing the waters to see how far she could take in this first round. “Mox? Can I ask you a favor?”

“Of course, kitty cat” His thumb now moved to her lips, brushing the rough pad of his finger against her bottom lip.

“Could you please not send Yuta? I-” Her eyes darted down to her feet, a sign of uncertainty, fear. She needed to play the victim perfectly in order to have him buy it. “He scares me” Her eyes focused on the baby blue orbs again. “When I was in the basement, he kept doing and saying things that made me uncomfortable and I…I don’t want to be alone with him”.

Something shifted in Moxley’s eyes, a flash of rage sipped through before being replaced with calmness.

“I’ll send someone else, kitty cat. Don’t worry about him, ok?” Mox pulled her towards him, engulfing her in a tight hug. Her head was placed under his chin as he played with her hair, her eyes stopped at the deer on the wall and now she understood its message. If she wanted to get out of this place alive, she would have to turn the predators into the preys.

She had finished showering when she heard the bedroom door opening. Footsteps made their way toward the bed and then came to a halt, the old bed springs squeaked as the man’s weight settled on top of the mattress. Damn, she wished she would’ve brought her clothes inside the bathroom with her! Now she would have to step out of the en suite bathroom, and be eyed like a piece of meat by whoever was across the door.

She took a deep breath in, in order to control her gag reflex, and slightly opened the bathroom door, peeking her head out to see who was on the other side.

“I was wondering how much longer would you stay inside the bathroom after the shower went off” Claudio smirked, pointing over to the silver platter on top of the bed “I brought your snack, come eat before it gets cold”.

Every instinct she possessed screamed for her to stay inside that bathroom, but her rational side knew that would bring up suspicions. So swallowing her fear and uncertainty, she stepped out of the bathroom and made her path to the opposite side of the bed from where Claudio sat.

“Come here” He beckoned her closer with his finger

God, would she like to just tell him to fuck off! Licking her dried lips, she carefully approached him. Claudio’s hand caressed her exposed thigh, he allowed himself to enjoy the feeling of her smooth skin against his calloused palm before he slid his hand up underneath the towel.

Her eyes slightly widened in shock upon feeling his hand traveling up her hip. Claudio continued to explore her body, rough fingertips now gently drew circles on her waist, only stopping underneath her breast.

“I think we need to have a little chat, don’t you?”

[mollerson]

Performance Jitters

Avery was a prima ballerina and had been dancing since before she could speak. Her mother had big dreams and projected those ambitions on her daughter. She could keep up with the older girls in the class and had many chances to perform in competitions. However, during the debut of her adult career, while these were considered the last few weeks of high school life, she came crashing down as her ligaments tore during her performance at Swan Lake. The catastrophe incident occurred on the final night of the showcase, and one last turn changed everything. Her knee was destroyed. She had lost her ability to walk and dance on the same day as her dream.

Her village of Broomhill held fundraisers and charity walks in hopes of helping the young girls fund expensive yet very experimental treatment in Turkey, hoping to reconnect the ligaments together without any lasting effects. Over 2 years, the doctors poked and prodded Avery; she was their personal lab rat to test the latest experiment. After 2 years of continuous trips to the hospital, Avery was told that they were no longer going ahead with the operation. Avery's heart sank, and she locked herself away in her room, away from her family and friends. She was caged in a room of hopes and dreams that twisted into nightmares the longer she looked at them.

Falling into a deep depression

Pill after pill 

Session after session 

Losing dance was losing her entire personality. Becoming hollow and wooden, stiff to any notion of affection. A few years passed, and Avery was almost 19 years old and not passionate about finding any good in this world. Her therapist suggested finding an alternative path, like singing or a hobby to fill her time with. Her mind would always wander during that session to dance in ballet performances in France.

Her mother, Linda, suggested going out for a walk, motioning to the sun beaming outside. Avery shrugged, and a cold expression formed on her face. Her thick wool jumper, where the bottom had been tugged and pilled enough that the material was stretched. Grabbing the crutches next to the breakfast table and avoiding the pool of mushed bananas that her baby brother Jamie had thrown onto the floor.

Her house had quite a few alternatives to accommodate the need for crutches, the sofas in the living room were pulled back to create more space and the stairs to the second floor now had a chair lift for when Avery became tired. While leisurely walking to the front door, a framed picture on the wall showed a young girl with a bright pink leotard and tutu. Avery gave a weak smile as her mother stood behind her.

Walking to the local co-op, Avery made a brave face and pulled the bottom of her jumper. Walking along the jagged pavement of the council estate she grew up on, seeing all the kids run a mock on the road and play games with chalk made her envious. Avery bit her lip and kept walking. Her eyes started to glisten when she saw something new in the Co-op window; its bright colours and big font attracted everyone walking past. Almost dropping her crutch, she leaned into the window for a good read.

'Well now, a circus in our proper small toon, guess ye wanna gan to that naw?' her mother Linda asked.

Avery shook her head excitedly. The poster promised dancing and performances from all things weird and wonderful. Her eyes lit up like Blackpool illuminations. Looking down at the crutches, her stomach churned when the thought of seeing dancers. Pulling the jumper to the point that the threads are falling apart. She noted down the dates. 

'I think I'll save my pocket money', she shouted at her mum, and she turned around and started walking home slightly faster with a new objective to complete; save money for the circus.

She hobbled home, almost falling over thanks to a pothole in the road, as quick as the path had been taken over by the kids in the neighbourhood. She found an old jam jar and filled it with the change contents in her pocket. Over the weeks, she would do odd jobs for her family to earn money. Washing the dishes, cleaning her room and even selling old toys to the local kids to help fund her day at the circus.

Avery was ready to see shows and dance all day with all the money she had saved from her jobs, and now the day had arrived. Her jeans had been washed and pressed, her top was a rainbow of colours, and for once, she felt nice to be friendly and colourful.

Avery jumped into the car and sat with her mother in the front, messing with the radio to play a heavy metal playlist. This did not bode well with her baby brother. Her leg kept twitching and jolting with excitement. Her eyes moved with every sign they passed on the dual carriageway, her arm blocking the view of the road every time she pointed to a character in the direction that they were heading.

After a 15-minute drive, they were escorted to a "car park", and finally, the vehicle stopped moving. Linda was so focused on getting her young son out of the car that she overlooked that Avery had disappeared amongst the visitors. The last image that Linda had of her daughter was in front of the entrance.

Avery's eyes dilated with pure joy seeing the dancers in their heavily detailed dresses and leotards that glistened and glimmered as the sun would hit the dancers. They performed with sticks of fire and ribbons swayed in the wind.

She staggered along, passed the tents and crowds. Eating cotton candy and caramel apples as she moved through the crowds; every so often, her crutch would get stuck in the mud. At one point, her feet moved faster than her hands, and her crutch got stuck on a tent string. She fell face first into the mud, her fresh clothes now covered in mud that had instances of sweet wrappers and lollipop sticks.

After struggling to turn around off her stomach, she could feel the twinge of pain coming down her leg and see her knee swell from her injury. She tried not to cry in pain as she wanted to attract no attention from the pain around her. She was to be independent as she could be.

She just wanted one day where she could enjoy one thing without hassle.

'Ye alreet their pet?' a feminine voice croaked. Standing over the wounded lass was an old woman in reasonably everyday attire but with clowns on her face. Behind the more senior clown was a woman in purple robes with a painted 3rd eye on her forehead.

Avery didn't make a sound but nodded at the clown's request for aid. The older woman helped Avery off the ground and helped her inside the tent. The robed woman zipped up the tent, ensuring she followed them in.

The tent was relatively small and homely in nature. The orange seats are around a small circular table. The camping stove and kettle for drinks were next to a mini fridge. A cabinet was filled with herbs and spices, presumably used to concoct different teas and herbal remedies when medication was unavailable.

'Come now, pet, have a seat and a cup of tea', the clown placed the cup in front of the class and continued ', My name is Heather, and that's Helen', motioning over to the robed woman, making herself comfortable with a cup of tea and placing a spoon towel down.

'Whats ya name?' Heather asked, grabbing a towel from the table and handing it to Avery.

'Avery', she squeaked. Talking to people outside her family was difficult. Her heart felt like it was about to burst through her chest with how fast it beat. The beating could be heard in her ears, and she picked up the cup to be distracted. The painted ceramic mug had little yellow birds perched on a tree branch. Being so fixated on the small cup, she didn't notice that the robed woman Helen had moved closer towards the skittish girl.

'Drink up but not all of it; I wanna read your leaves' Helen made a motion with her hands, the fingers interlocking and playfully tapping along her own palm in a circle.

'Leaves?' Avery questioned and looked quite confused at the sentiment. Moving the cup towards her mouth, taking many big gulps but keeping an eye out for the tea level. Allowing a small puddle to form in the bottom. This pool of tea had leaves floating on the top.

Avery didn't have the chance to place the cup on the small table when Helen grabbed the cup and started pacing around the room like a child with a new toy. Helen rocked back and forward on her heels, watching the inside of the cup intently.

Her body stopped, and her eyes had small pools of tears. 

Thud 

The cup had been dropped onto the makeshift carpet. 

'Oh, you poor thing. The tea said you have been robbed of your dreams. Helen was so sombre; her voice cracked with the woman's sadness. Avery's attention moved towards the other woman in the room as Heather went to the cabinet filled with herbs.

There was a sound of mashing and stone clicking against the stone with the pestle and mortar brought out from under a cabinet. Heather's body blocked whatever she was doing from Avery's point of view.

Avery finally perked up. 'How did you – wait, I should probably get going?' trying to motion for the exit, but her crutches were not seen; shit, had she left outside? She tried to get moving, but her knee would not bend. It was too swollen for any sort of movement.

'Well, what if we could offer you a solution?' Heather excitedly said, a grin like the Cheshire cat. The clown moved closer to the girl and placed a jar of crushed herbs before Avery. From the corner of her eye, Avery noticed Helen shift from sad to concerned. Her body became stiff, and she moved back over to the table. Her robes flowed effortlessly and missed on a single corner. 

Yanking the jar and placing it in her pocket, 'She's only a child; what if things go wrong and if he finds out. Our heads will be gone,' she exclaimed, very worried and panicked. 

'You just worried about meddling with nature; this lass isn't living. Let's give her a chance to make a choice.' Heather moved and placed a palm out. 'Come on honey, you know this is the best'. 

Helen sighed and reluctantly gave back the herbs. The robed woman walked towards the kettle and started to boil the water.

Avery sat. she watched and listened to the kettle. How long had she been gone? Where were her mother and Jamie? Her head started to hurt with the worry she had unnecessarily caused. 

The same cup was placed in front of her, and the smell of lavender filled the room. The purple liquid shifted and shimmered with hues of blues and pinks. She saw her face in the reflection. She looked so pained and sad. She didn't notice that she had been crying herself, and the trails of tears made tracks all the way down her cheeks.

Cupping the cup in her hands again, she took a deep breath and drank the tea without hesitation. This was one of those herbal teas that would help with pain and swelling. Her face softened, and she dried her eyes. The world became hazy; the woman stood nearby, whispering amongst themselves. She felt so sleepy, and being passed a thick, knitted blanket by Helen was the nail in the coffin.

Her eyes started to feel heavy; sleep was calling her name, and her chair started sinking beneath her. The last thing she remembered was the thud of the cup as it hit the ground. Dreams of performances and recitals. Her body flowed like water, and she could hold poses for minutes. She wasn't hindered by bones or joints or even muscles that would get in the way.

She was happy. She was content. She was perfect.

***

'AVERYYYYYYYYYY!' her mother Linda yelled, carrying a crying Jamie. He was fussing and needed something to eat. Making her way to the big tent in the middle, she hoped her daughter would be somewhere close to some food.

       'Come one and all, see the living, Doll. She twists and bends with no bones,' the Ringleader shouted and praised. His voice was a foghorn, leading the people towards him.

Jamie quieted when he heard the act and wanted to see the "liv-ing dol-ly." The child pointed and laughed at the animals in the cages, oooh'd at the elephants and shied away from the lions after giving the small clown by the entrance of the big tent a few quid. They were let in to see the acts.

'Where is that girl?' Linda whispered, agitated. Looking around at the loud crowd, trying to find her daughter. She was focused on the hair within the group. She allowed Avery to dye her hair purple for her 14th birthday.

The lights went out, and a spotlight was pointed to the tent's centre.

The music started, and a toy car was driven to the middle. The door opened, and they waited.

They waited.

A great bang and puff of smoke appeared where the car had been. Now a man, dressed in black and red, carrying a whip. 

The Ringleader appeared and stood, smiles and all. 'Welcome, ladies and gentlemen, children of all ages; I am proud to present the Barton Circus. I'm delighted to welcome a new little lady who is a little shy,' taking in a deep breath. The man walked around the car and climbed on top.

'Can I please have a round of applause for the newest addition, Audrey – the Living doll?!' he finished. 

Then in a flash, he disappeared and in his place was a small doll whose limbs were made of wood but could move with no strings. Her purple hair was wrapped in a small bow and complimented a pink ballerina outfit. The wooden joints moved without fault; there was no click as the legs bent and straightened. The Doll made no movement, and the lack of noise was startling.

Swan Lake started to play, the music filled the rooms, and any leftover muttering was stopped as people watched the Doll. Her face remained blank, but when she started to move, her body conveyed joyful and happy emotions. The music began to fasten, and the Doll moved, matching pace. She danced across the floor, taking advantage of the hoops used for the animal performances. The music continued, and when the music slowed, the Doll became graceful and looked amongst the crowd.

Linda made eye contact with the ballerina, and her eyes swelled with tears.

Nearing the end of the music, the posture of the Doll changed; there was an arrogance and prideful nature when the hoops that had been previously used became aflame. The crowd murmured in worry and disbelief; some mothers covered their children's eyes. 

Jamie's eyes could be seen with wonder and excitement, enjoying the high intensity of the performance. The music finally hit the crescendo, and with an inhumane leap, she flew across the tent and landed with such magnificence that the crowd hung silent. A few seconds passed, the music had stopped, and the Doll remained in position. From the distance that Linda and Jamie were sitting, it was as if the Doll's body was panting after all that physical exhaustion. Still, without any lungs, that would be impossible for a wooden figure to do.

The show continued with the introduction of the animals; creatures great and small were brought in. The Doll would dance along the tightrope that hung above and land elegantly onto the more giant animals. The beautiful Doll showed no fear as she walked across the rope with ease and no hesitation. Bending her joints along the string atop hangs upside down and performs impressive tricks.

The crowd applauded and cheered the Doll on as the hours flew by. When everyone started leaving the tent, the sun began to disappear along the horizon, and most ats returned to their tents behind the big top. That's when Linda's stomach churned, and the realisation kicked in that her daughter had been missing for half a day.

She started panicking, turned pale, and hugged Jamie tighter. After an hour of searching, with the help of some of the actors, there was no sign of her daughter. The weekend flew by, even the police were notified, and the only indication of the lass was that her crutch was found in a ditch half a mile from the circus.

The circus left and left behind the tattered remains of a destroyed patch of land and no sign of Avery. Her mother gave up searching after 2 years; her heart had to let go, and money was running short to continue to print posters. It was like she disappeared with the wind. Jamie did not remember much about his sister but always talked about that Doll.

With no evidence that Avery was alive, her mother paid for a gathering in the town hall and put a headstone for her beloved daughter in the local ceremony.

The circus continued to come every few years; as Audrey grew up, she became more mature, and her purple hair started to grey. Her wooden joints started to wear away and rot. They say Audrey had to retire from the job and is now part of the circus museum in America. For all to bear witness.

Avery would have loved Audrey.

[kayfabebabe]

Aftermath

‘Never does the human soul appear so strong as when it foregoes revenge and dares to forgive an injury.’ - A glimpse of the events following the attack on William Regal and the reactions of his eldest protégés. 

This initially began life as simple Brainworms then it continued to grow and grow and grow. It definitely got out of control. Anyway, I hope you enjoy! 

Blackpool Combat Club  WARNINGS - Medical talk. Angst. Major sad times. 

~ ~ ~ 

In 1,2.3… Out 1,2.3… 

Bryan tirelessly watches the slight rise and fall of William’s chest, bleach-white sheets barely moving with each steady breath, accompanied by a beep from one of the machines at his bedside. There’s too many of them, making a variety of sounds that fade into the general hum of background noise. The room feels out of step with the rest of reality. Seconds stretch into minutes and an hour feel like eternity. But Bryan remains loyally seated beside his mentor for all of it, without a single complaint. 

This feels wrong. 

Over the course of their decades of friendship, there were countless occasions that found both men in hospital, but the roles were always reversed. Bryan would be laying flat with his neck stabilised in a complicated brace and William would quietly sit vigilant. Sometimes, those visits would last days and it was guaranteed that William tried to be there for the entirety of it. There was, seemingly, no limit to the self-confessed villain’s care for any of his students, including Bryan and the other BCC members. If they needed him, he would be there. 

In 1,2.3… Out 1,2.3… 

Bryan is barely awake, curled awkwardly in the chair with his knees pulled up to his chest, when a nurse came shuffling into the room. She quietly explains that another scan of William’s neck has been ordered by the doctors to investigate the possible damage. More tests meant more waiting. All that Bryan can do is tiredly nod and watch the orderlies as they take William for the new round of tests. 

When they first arrived at the hospital, Bryan was understandably concerned about the harm done to the older man. William’s health had been fragile for years. And his frustration only grew tenfold when a nurse insisted that he remained in the relatives waiting area. The heat of Bryan’s temper crept up the length of his spine before he caught it and took a steadying breath. Dressed in shorts and a single boot, he perched himself on a chair in the furthest corner from the other visitors and silently counted the passing seconds. It was enough of a distraction to cool the flames that threatened to burn him from the inside.  

5400 seconds later, Bryan was led to a private room by a doctor and, the instant he crossed the threshold, his knees grew weak at the sight before him. William laid motionless in bed, both arms bound in wires and tubes connected to, at least, half a dozen different machines. Whatever the doctor said to him, Bryan didn’t hear. To see his mentor, the man that supported him through every stage of his career, lying unconscious in a hospital bed was… 

In 1,2.3… Out 1,2.3…

~ 

“Head feels like a bloody Tilt-A-Whirl.”

It was a blessed relief when William, finally, opened his eyes and began speaking in his usual soft voice. Despite being groggy and disoriented, he still attempted to charm the nurses into removing the brace from his neck. No such luck. They assured him that it’d be removed as soon as the doctors were confident that it was no longer necessary. Seeing the exchange eased the lingering tension from Bryan’s shoulders and he felt something loosen around his ribs, allowing him to breathe.

The room buzzed as doctors fussed over William, much to the older man’s apparent dismay. He attempted to make a joke about preferring the nurse’s attention, but Bryan was the only one to find any sense of humour in it. They began asking simple questions such as ‘What’s your name?’ and ‘When were you born?’ Perfectly normal procedure after anybody has experienced a major concussion. 

“Mr Regal, what’s your last clear memory?” 

“I was backstage with Master Moxley and young Wheeler, instructing them through a series of holds. Nothing overly strenuous before a match.” 

The answer catches Bryan off-guard and the confusion must’ve been evident in his expression as the doctor asks William to repeat himself. Did he really not remember the past two weeks? Bryan understood from first-hand experiences that concussions could easily distort your memories. Hell, there were entire weekends missing from his memory, but it was still hard to believe. Could this be some form of devious trick to avoid possible further consequences? The air in the room shifted, growing more uncomfortable and stifling. Everyone was quick to finish their checks before hurrying to leave Bryan and William alone.  

Bryan tries his best to explain to William about the “Incident” at Full Gear whilst keeping him relatively calm. A mammoth undertaking. William doesn’t believe a single thing that Bryan tells him. At a loss, Bryan pulls up the clip from the internet and holds his phone for his mentor to clearly see the screen. As the video plays, William’s expression slowly shifts with the crease between his browns deepening and a frown tugging at the corners of his mouth. He politely asks Bryan to replay it. Again and again and again. It’s always the same. On the small screen, William watches himself slide over the knuckle dusters to MJF and betray Mox in the same heartbeat. 

“Surely, that’s not…” 

“I’m sorry, Sir.” 

~ 

There were eyes on Mox. He could feel them burn through his sweatshirt as he paced the corridor, anger buzzing under his skin. Every time that he neared the open door, Mox turned on his heel and stormed in the opposite direction before he tried again. He didn’t want to be here. He shouldn’t be here. If it wasn’t for Bryan’s constant begging then Mox would be doing something more enjoyable today like pulling his own teeth out. 

“He doesn’t remember anything!” “And how do you know that he’s not fucking with you?” “I just know…”  

Admittedly, Mox’s curiosity had been piqued by the strange video message that Regal had left for them. ‘To lead by example.’ It was a nonsensical explanation and answered none of the questions that had been keeping him awake at night. All of these unnecessary theatrics could be another one of the villain’s many tricks. One to gain sympathy and forgo any repercussions. Mox flinches when a nurse lightly touches his elbow and offers a polite smile that doesn’t reach her eyes. 

“Sir, are you here to see somebody?” 

“Yeah, his Lord-… Mr William Regal.” 

The nurse is kind enough to lead Mox down the hallway to the very door that he’s been avoiding and he has no choice, but to peer inside the room. Regal is perched on the edge of the raised bed with his hands folded in his lap and eyes closed. From an outsider’s perspective, he appeared peaceful. As if simply enjoying the quiet of the room, but Mox knew better. He could see the faint twitch of his Lordship’s shoulders and the occasional tap of his fingers against his own knuckles. There wasn’t a moment that Regal was entirely switched off; an unfortunate consequence of learning how to survive in a cruel world that took advantage of vulnerability.

“Mr Regal, you have a visitor…” 

As quickly as she appeared, the nurse vanishes and leaves Mox standing in the doorway. Everything is too still. Too quiet. From here, Mox notices the freshly shaved patch at the very base of his Lordship’s skull that has removed some of his favoured ‘sugar wisps.’  A long, freshly sutured wound begins at his new hairline and extends down the length of his neck before disappearing under his shirt collar. Bryan hadn’t said anything about his Lordship having surgery. Mox shouldn’t care, but that small piece of him - the same piece that had yearned for Regal’s attention in FCW - did care regardless. 

“Bryan, I assure you that I’m quite capable of finding my own way home. There’s no point in you…” 

“Not Bryan.” 

That gained the older man’s attention. He was slow to stand from the bed, keeping his hand on the mattress for balance as he turned to face Mox. Neither of them moved or said anything. With only a mere handful of feet between them, it would be more than easy for Mox to throw a punch or tackle Regal to the floor. He deserves it. Nobody would blame him for lashing out and, truthfully, Mox had more than considered it. 

Regal was the first to let his eyes drop to the bed between them and his hand brushes away an imaginary crease in the sheets. In the entire time that they’ve known each other, Mox has never seen his Lordship submit without a fight. To back down from an opponent, no matter how out-matched he might’ve been.

Wrong. This is all wrong. 

“Jon.” 

No. Mox didn’t want to hear whatever half-assed apology Regal had prepared for him. During the car-ride to the hospital, he had readied himself to walk into the dragon’s lair and demand an apology from his Lordship. At least, an acknowledgement for the hurt born from his actions. But now, the words would be meaningless. They wouldn’t change anything. Mox’s title was still around the waist of an undeserving asshole and the once strong ties that bound the BCC to each other were in need of repair. 

‘To lead by example.’ A small spark of an idea began to grow in the very back of Mox’s mind. What if the players involved were different? Hypothetically, what if Mox had screwed someone like Yuta out of a Championship? The mere concept brought a sour taste to Mox’s mouth. He was - is - a man capable of despicable acts and his past was littered with examples of his cruelty. And, for every one of them, Mox has been forgiven. He was given chance after chance after chance. Perhaps… Perhaps Mox should be more lenient with His Lordship. 

“Bryan said you needed a ride home or something…” 

For once, Regal was lost for words and stared in disbelief at Mox. Almost as if the younger man was going to strike him as soon as his guard was down. As soon as his back was turned. This wasn’t forgiveness. Not yet. Time, eventually, will heal Mox’s wounds and extinguish some of the anger burning deep in his chest towards His Lordship. Until then, all Mox could do was extend a small olive branch. Taking a step towards being a better man than Regal. 

~ 

[misstressshelby]

A little magic

Summary: After failing to get pregnant Tommy Shelby and his wife try alternative methods.

Warnings: Swearing, pregnancy issues, smut

Paring: Tommy Shelby X Fem Reader

Word Count:2,438

(A/N: I am not Roma. It is an extremely closed culture that differs from region to region so it is hard to research. Everything related to magic in this is just things I've learned in my own craft. Expect Amari De who is the goddess of motherhood and nature among Romani. Also, this is my first smut so I'm very nervous.)

“Mrs. Shelby, did you hear what I just said?” The voice broke you out of your trance. You had been staring at a painting hung on the wall since you’d sat down. No, you didn’t hear what the doctor said but it didn’t matter. He said the same thing the last six doctors told you. It wasn’t impossible for you to have children, just highly unlikely. If you did, the pregnancy would be high risk. But there were always more treatments and tests. More prodding, invading questions and people look at you with pity in their eyes.

“Yes, I heard you. Thank you for your time, Dr. Turner.” You replied with a tight simile.

Tommy squeezed your hand beside you while taking a drag of his third cigarette. You didn’t remember the ride home, only that you drove in silence. As soon as you arrived you went to your shared bedroom. You were exhausted but knew you wouldn’t sleep. Your body hated you that way.

Two weeks later Esme had come to see you with her small army of kids. The girls were trying to make the boys play school with them but the boys wouldn’t cooperate. Instead, they wanted to go outside and play cowboys. Esme and you sat on chairs on the patio overlooking the garden talking about your husbands.

“John hasn’t been home in three bloody days! He only comes in to fuck me then leaves again. I swear I’m gonna cut off his balls the next time I see him.” The woman said exasperated.

“If you cut off his balls what would you do for fun eh? You two go at it like rabbits.” You laughed at your sister-in-law.

“I don’t fucking care anymore. I’m sick of being bloody pregnant. My feet hurt all the fucking time and I can’t remember the last time had a drink. Or any fun for that matter.” Esme gestured to her ever-growing stomach.

You gave a half-hearted chuckle and tried to ignore the pang of jealousy in your chest.

“Oh, I’m sorry love I wasn’t-’Esme rushed out.

“It’s okay Esme. I’m happy for you and John really.” Your smile was genuine this time even though the jealousy remained.

The brunette moved closer and leaned in like she was telling a secret.

“You know me cousin was like you tried for years and just couldn’t get knocked up. Then one day she saw Madam Boswell, now she has five.” Esme had a look in her eye that reminded you of Polly. Sometimes the monarch of the Shelby's would look at you like she saw through you.

“You think she would see me? I’m a gorger after all.” You didn’t want to get your hopes up again.

“You’re a fucking Shelby yeah,” Esme said as if your last name solved decades of tradition. Maybe it did. Being a Shelby opened a lot of doors these days.

Two hours later Esme was leaving the kids with Polly on Water lane. Jonny Doggs was preparing a caravan. You were in Tommy’s office writing him a letter and praying to every God that he wouldn’t be too mad.

Dear Tommy,

I’m sorry for leaving without any notice. I’m going with Esme to Blackpool and should be back before next Sunday. Johnny Doggs is coming with us so you don’t have to worry. I promise I’ll explain more when I get home.

Yours always, (Y/N)

True to your word you arrived next Friday to see lights on in the house. The sun had already gone down which usually meant Tommy wasn’t far behind. You opened the large wooden door to find Mary already waiting.

“Hello Mrs. Shelby, how was your trip?” Mary smiled.

“It was nice, Mary. Thank you. Where is me husband?” You asked. You knew the longer you waited the worst your nerves would get.

“In his study Miss, he’s been sleeping there,” Mary told her warily. The maid took your coat and started to walk back into the house.

You stopped her, “Mary is he….is he mad?”.

“No, not mad, just worried.” Mary smiled softly before going back to work.

You made your way through the house taking in the living room like the first time you’d had seen it. Coming back home always feels different. As if the energy had shifted in your absence. As you considered this as you arrived at Tommy’s office door.

The door felt larger than normal looming over you separating you from the man inside. You didn’t knock as you normally would, opting to pop your head in instead.

He didn’t notice you at first thinking you were a maid coming in to ask about dinner. You stood by the door for a moment taking in the sight of him hunched over his desk looking at papers. Tommy’s hair was falling over his eyes and the ashtray beside him was littered with cigarettes. His clothes look disheveled like Mary said he looked as if he’d slept in them.

“Hello, Tommy.” You said as you walked to his desk letting him know you were home.

“Your home.” He stated.

Your husband finally looked up, while he tried to look stoic you could see his shoulders relax.

“Yeah, I am. Did you get my letter?” You asked, knowing the answer.

“Mhhm I got it. Any reason you decided to run off to Blackpoll with Esme and Jonny Doggs love?” Tommy raised an eyebrow at you.

You moved around to sit on the edge of his desk before leaning down to kiss your husband. Tommy pulled you into him despite himself as you savored each other. As you pulled away your foreheads stayed pressed against one another. You took a breath before telling him.

“I went to visit Madam Boswell.” You finally said. “Esme told me that she helped a cousin of hers.”

After the words left your mouth Tommy leaned back in his chair rubbing his hands down his face. “So you let a witch put a spell on you cause Esme said?’ He laughed.

“Oi she’s not a witch Thomas and she didn’t put a spell on me. She only gave me instructions for a ritual; for us to do if we wish.” You scolded him.

You didn’t know why before you would’ve laughed at the thought as well. You’d never really put much thought into Roma magic. You’d listen to Polly’s stories or let her read your leaves from time to time. The same way an atheist would sit through a sermon. But there was something about Madam Boswell that made her feel ethereal. As if she knew everything that had happened and everything that would. It was silly but you clung to that feeling wanting to believe in it.

“You know Pol says Shelby's have magic in their blood, so what’s a little more?” You tried to reason with your husband.

“And you believe her?” He asked but he didn’t laugh this time.

“I think Pol can see things in people that others can’t and so can you. Call it magic or whatever you want.” You took your husband’s face in your hands rubbing along his jaw.

“She says it could help us have a baby Tommy. So why not try? Will you at least think about it?” You pleaded with your husband.

Tommy’s eyes got soft at the mention of you conceiving. You knew how much he wanted a baby too. Though he tried to act like the never-ending appointments didn’t pain him as much as his wife.

“I’ll think about it yeah,” He told you standing from his chair to kiss your forehead.

“Dinner should be ready soon, let's get something to eat yeah? Johnny Doggs is a shit cook.” You laughed, pulling your husband out of his office.

It was three days later when Tommy finally gave you an answer. You was sitting in front of your vanity getting ready for bed when he came in. You knew what he wanted right away, it was rare for Tom to come to bed before midnight unless he wanted a fuck.

“Alright.” He said with a nod of his head.

“Really?” You got up with a smile.” Okay just let me get the things.”

“Things? You never said there were things love.” Tommy grunted.

You ignored him walking toward the walk-in closet to get the bag Madam Boswell had given you.

“It’s only some candles, a seed, a medallion, and a little spell.” You recited every item as you sat them on the bed.

Tommy came to stand beside you. Looking at each item with a wary look in his eye.

“Thought you said no spells eh?” He asked as he picked up the medallion.

“No, I said she didn’t put one on me. All we have to do is light the candles, say a few words, and then plant the seed afterward” You explained.

Tommy quirked an eyebrow at “plant the seed” with a smirk. You shoved his shoulder a little and rolled your eyes at him but couldn’t hide a smile either.

After Tommy stripped to his boxers the two of you stood in front of a makeshift altar. The Amari De amulet sat in the middle of a green and red candle. Tommy took one of the lighters and lit the red before letting you light the green.

Awkwardly you both recited the spell Madam Boswell had written for you.

"Pink for a girl and blue for a boy

wee one you will bring such joy

fill up this womb with baby's life

Goddess hear my heartfelt cries

I am strong and I am worthy

To lead this baby on its life journey

ant so tonight with child is me

this is my spell, so mote it be"

You shifted beside your husband suddenly feeling like a virgin. The anxiety bubbled in your stomach as you forgot how to move your limbs. Tommy sensing your apprehension took your face in his hands. Softly he brushed his fingers over your lips before his followed. As soon as you felt his lips on yours everything fell into place.

You couldn’t wait any longer, bunching your nightgown up before tugging Tommy’s pants off him. Hanging off the edge of the bed Tommy’s arms wrapped around you was the only thing keeping you up. Your mouths crashed together with urgency. Half kissing half groaning into the other's mouth. Tommy raked his hand through your hair and tugged just hard enough to make you gasp. While he placed open-mouthed kisses on your neck you blindly undid the buttons on his shirt.

He pulled the top of your negligee down as the straps fell down your arms.

When he stopped his assault of your neck to pull your mouth back to him you moaned at the sight. His hair disheveled from your fingers running through it. His were lips already swollen. If you could, you would stay like this forever worshiping the man before you .

Tommy had other plans, reaching in between your bodies he found your cunt wet for him. He let his fingers ghost over you just enough to tease. When you ground down into his hand and let out an embarrassing whine all he did in return is smile.

He stayed like that for a while letting you rub herself on his fingers until you were close. The noises you were making would embarrass you if it wasn’t for the look on Thomas' face. He looked up at you like you were a goddess. It was his turn to worship you . His pupils were blown wide while his lips hung slightly open. Your moans became louder. You were sure everyone in the house could hear you but didn’t care.

It was when your mouth dropped into a silent scream that your husband finally pressed his fingers onto your clit. He didn’t move, just let you continue circling your hips in the rhythm you’d chosen. But it was enough to set you over the edge. You hung on to Tommy’s broad shoulders as you came. It took a moment to let the fuzzy white haze wash over you. Basking in the feeling. You picked your head off Thomas’s shoulder only to press your foreheads together. Your noses bumped each other. Lips brushing as a smile came to your face.

You didn’t know if you stayed like that for a couple of minutes or a couple of hours. Gently Tommy laid you on the ground before standing over you taking in the sight. Your hair spiraled in a halo around you while you caught your breath. Thomas grabbed a pillow from the bed behind him. Then placed it underneath your hips.

You watched as he kneeled before you , running his calloused hands up your legs. Only to hook them around your knees and pull you towards him. Your hips positioned on the pillow left your cunt opened to your husband much to his delight. You were already dripping down your thighs but Tommy still leaned down to spit directly on your pussy. You gasped at the feeling. You arched your back towards him before wrapping your ankles around him.

“Please Tommy please I need you…” You started to babble.

“Shh, I know. You’re always so good for me” Tommy reassured you .

You didn’t have time to respond before you felt Tommy’s cock sink into you slowly. Everything else fell away and all that mattered was the feeling of him. Of both of you together.

You couldn’t think of anything else but him. His fingers digging into your thighs. Hurting in the best way possible. The way his cock filled you in a way only Tommy could. The small grunts coming from his parted lips. It was all too much for you. You felt yourself titering on the edge already. The tingling in your stomach grew with each thrust as you drug your nails down his back.

“Please...please Tommy I’m going to cum..Don’t stop.” You rambled.

“Me too just hold on love.” He groaned against your ear.

You felt Tommy grab your hips before thrusting into you one last time. After filling you, he brought his thumb down to rub lazy circles on your clit. It only took a few caresses for you to cum with a loud moan.

Tommy gave you a moment to catch your breath before pulling away. You wrapped your legs around him again before asking him to stay.

You both stayed like that until your breathing calmed down. Only breaking apart to move to the bed and start again.

[phanfictioncatalogue]

2010!Phan (2) Masterlist

part one

a different side of me (ao3) - dizzy

Summary: Dan's early 2010 struggle with his home life, his future, and how Phil fits into everything.

always having your hand to hold (ao3) - t_hens

Summary: Dan and Phil's 2010 trip to Blackpool

because he loves him (ao3) - furryphil

Summary: dan has been getting sick a lot recently, making phil worried

(based off dan's 2010 surgery)

but that doesn’t make you here (ao3) - orphan_account

Summary: Long distance relationships aren't as simple Phil realizes, especially when it comes around the time of his birthday.

Eyes Wide (ao3) - Amys_Musings

Summary: Prompt (set in 2010 during the Jamaica trip) wherein Dan hit his head on a rock while cliff jumping. What happens to him after (amnesia, coma, etc) depends on the writer.

For All the Light That I Shut Out (ao3) - niccals

Summary: “I haven’t slept in four days” | a 2010!dan dealing with insomnia and depression and seeking comfort from 2010!phil.

Full of Words I Don’t Know How to Say (ao3) - JudeAraya

Summary: Everything was soft, couched in perfect quiet. Dan felt suspended in time; he took a mental snapshot and hoped desperately he’d never forget this: their first Christmas together, on the floor with cheap hot chocolate in a flat he didn’t technically live in. Soon they’d have their own apartment and have a second Christmas--perhaps what others might call a proper first Christmas--together there too.

Snuggles, sex, and big feelings.

Glimpses of Portugal (ao3) - adorkablephil (kimberly_a)

Summary: Dan and Phil went to Portugal together May 27-June 3, 2010, but very little is known about the trip. This is a random collection of ficlets that take place during that trip, occasionally incorporating some of the few actual tweets and photos from the trip. They aren't in any particular order, but they all take place during that holiday in Portugal.

High By The Beach (ao3) - det395

Summary: They get high during the freedom of their Portugal vacation and for a moment there, Phil starts to worry that he and Dan aren't really alright

home safe (ao3) - watergator

Summary: dan becomes stranded in london

Kiss-Me-Quick (ao3) - strawberrysunflower

Summary: “I should be lounging out on a beach right now.”

“You can lounge out on a beach! Look, the Golden Mile’s down there. Only watch out for donkeys. And stray Stella cans.”

It’s probably not the greatest advertisement of the town, Phil realises. Who needs Portugal when you can come to Costa Del Blackpool instead?

laid bare (ao3) - waveydnp

Summary: 2010 dnp get tested and bareback for the first time

Love is a Risk (ao3) - imnotinclinedtomaturity

Summary: It was early 2010 and Dan was worried (more like panicking) about his future — specifically regarding uni. At this point, Dan wasn’t sure why he made some of the choices he’d made, but, well, he was here now. When his anxiety comes to a head, Dan turns to the only person in Wokingham he trusts to help him: his nana.

love is an open drawer (ao3) - blackbirddan

Summary: Phil moves into his first apartment.

new beginnings (ao3) - waveydnp

Summary: dan gets an acceptance letter from manchester university

Sensuous (ao3) - schnaf

Summary: Dan and Phil's first joint holiday is a journey through their sensory impressions.

Spend Christmas Eve Eve With Me (ao3) - phancuddleswithstyles

Summary: It's christmas 2010. Phil wants to spend christmas eve eve with his best friend Dan. The day helps both boys realise what their exact feelings for eachother actually are.

someday (ao3) - interruptedbyfjreworks

Summary: jamaica, 2010.

The Future (ao3) - ahappyphil

Summary: 23 Feb 2010

@/amazingphil- snow apocalypse. also i drifted off into a daydream land on death bus. I am excited about the future :]

they don’t know (about us) (ao3) - calvinahobbes

Summary: Dan and Phil in Jamaica, July 2010.

you won’t be alone (ao3) - interruptedbyfjreworks

Summary: in which dan comes out to his parents in 2010 and things don't go as planned.

[sailorspazz]

10 Dance Vol. 6 Special Edition overview

Volume 6 of the 10 Dance manga was released in Japan on March 18th, 2021. As with volumes 4 and 5, there are both regular and special editions available. In this post, I will provide an overview of the release, including observations on changes that were made to the chapters compared to how they were printed in the magazine, plus summaries and select scans of content from the special edition booklet.

It is often the case that when chapters come out in the manga magazines, they aren't always fully polished, and since I became highly familiar with this run of chapters from the summaries I made, several things immediately jumped out at me as I went through the book. First of all, though chapter 29 was split into two parts and released in subsequent months in the magazine, these two halves were combined into one chapter, with no indication they had ever been separate. I assume that they were always intended to be one chapter, but since the full chapter was not completed before the deadline (and it was a month when 10 Dance was being given the cover image, so not possible to delay its release), it was simply split over two months instead.

For visual changes, the most common alteration was scenes that originally had little or no screentone having it added in:

There were also some instances of either slight panel redraws, or complete replacements with new panels. None of these were from particularly important scenes, so it could just be Inouesatoh or someone on her team didn't like the look of the original panels and wanted to change them. The following example has a bit of both, with Suzuki in the upper left corner being replaced, and his eyes being redrawn in the lower panel:

Personally, the most amusing addition I noticed was when Max was thinking about throwing a party. Originally, we didn't see what he was envisioning, but in the volume, an addition has been made in the background: the New Year's piece Inouesatoh drew with sexy men dressed as cows, except now they're bunnies!

As for dialogue, it appeared to be almost the same in both versions throughout. Some minor exceptions include a spot I found where the dialogue was put in a different order, swapping Sugiki’s lines between this panel and his first line on the following page (in addition to another altered panel example):

As well as in this shot of Suzuki describing how they tug at the thread that connects them through their dance. Whereas before it put the word “dance” next to the part about tugging on the thread to specify what was meant by that, it was deleted in the volume. And while it was originally described as “affirming that we’re connected”, this was also tweaked a bit to be, “affirming our connection”.

There were a couple instances of character names being different from when they appeared earlier in the story. In this volume, two characters who were last mentioned back in volume 2 (Lucas Calvo, one of the champions at the table in Blackpool, and Deeks, who Ernie said hated Sugiki because he "stole" his girlfriend), either from typos or intentional changes, weren't the same as before. Lucas' last name was written with a 'g' sound (ガルボ) instead of a 'c' (カルボ), and this change carried over to the volume. On the other hand, Deeks' (ディクス) name got transposed as Disc (ディスク) in the magazine, but was fixed in the volume.

There was a typo that unfortunately made it through to the volume (but could perhaps be fixed in future printings). In chapter 34, when Norman is testing Suzuki's skills, he flashes back to Sugiki taking the national title from him several years earlier. The text in this scene, written in English, incorrectly states that Suzuki won the championship, rather than Sugiki.

The volume also includes the usual additions that are not present in the magazine, such as the under the cover flap comic, and Inouesatoh’s notes about each chapter.

The cover flap comic (which looks very much like a sketch, compared to previous ones that have had more complete art), features the Shinyas during a practice session earlier on in the series in December, where Suzuki complains that Sugiki’s Latin just isn’t sexy. Sugiki suggests that he can practice being sexy by wiggling his butt around to write a message in the air. Suzuki worries that if he starts writing out “love” or something, he’ll have to run away and escape. Sugiki gets started, and Suzuki calls out each letter that he can make out from his elegant butt bouncing. After figuring out he’s written “M-E-R-R-Y”, Suzuki guesses that he’s writing “Merry Christmas”. Sugiki gets mad that he said it aloud before he finished writing his message, and says he’s going to leave. Suzuki says, “Wait, I love you,” as narrative text says that this somehow turned into a love story in one panel.

And here are some tidbits I found interesting/amusing from the chapter notes:

She thinks readers who are fans of pecs will like Saichi.

She’s not sure if readers will love Max or hate him, but she personally likes him (sorry Sensei, I kinda hate him lol)

As of chapter 32, a portion of the art is now done digitally.

The epic “last dance” scene from 33 was something that she had planned since the beginning of the series, and it ended up being 8 times the cost for a typical chapter.

Special edition booklet:

The special edition comes with a 48 page hardcover booklet that includes a variety of different extras, divided into 8 sections called “heats”.

Heat 1 is a newly drawn, 12 page parody manga. Back in September 2020, Inouesatoh put out a request on Twitter for fans to send in their suggestions for an erotic side story. Putting the characters in a high school setting was the most requested scenario, so she chose this idea as the basis for the story. The title is “And All That Jazz” (the premise makes this somewhat confusing to summarize, so keep in mind that I’ll mostly be describing their actions based on the soul rather than the body, but will use quotation marks if it’s about other characters and who they think they’re addressing. It’ll all make sense, I promise...I think :P)

(The title page actually depicts the ending of the story, so I’ll come back to it later). It starts with Suzuki narrating his introduction, saying that he’s a transfer student to the Standard Academy. He really doesn’t get along with a guy named Sugiki, but for some reason, the two have now switched bodies with each other. Sugiki opens his shirt and inspects his new physique in front of other students, as Suzuki yells out asking what the hell he’s doing to his body. They look at themselves wearing each other’s expressions, Sugiki seeming surprised his mouth can gape open like that, and Suzuki wondering what happened to his body’s facial expression muscles. The bell rings and Sugiki heads off to class, as Suzuki is baffled that he can act so calm about this.

Sugiki perfectly reads a passage aloud in English class, something everyone (including the teacher, who looks like Norman) find unusual coming from “Suzuki”, as they wonder where his usual hearts are. Suzuki makes the decision to enjoy living as Sugiki for a bit, and is shown getting flirty with several girls. He notes that the more serious personality in his regular body is also strangely popular, though with a very different crowd.

A student named Alberko (Alberto in a girl’s uniform) shows up and says that “Sugiki” was supposed to have lunch with her(?) today. Suzuki says that he thought Alberko was going out with Dorou (a masculine alteration to Dolores’ name). Ernie and Suzuki watch as his harem falls apart with Alberko running amok. Ernie comments that both “Sugiki” and that transfer student have been acting weird all week, and he asks if something happened. Suzuki internally reflects back to one week earlier, when he was relaxing in bed in the infirmary. Sugiki comes in and accuses him of skipping class, and Suzuki tells him to mind his own business. He thought this would turn into one of their usual fights, but he can’t believe that actually happened instead...

After school, Sugiki asks Suzuki if they can go home together today. As they’re walking, Suzuki asks if Sugiki realizes what it was that made them switch places, and Sugiki says he does. Suzuki says that in that case, they know how they need to fix it, and they should go over to his house. Sugiki asks for clarification of whose house exactly he means by that.

As they start to get undressed, Suzuki says that he always thought his mom and sisters were annoying, but after a week apart he really misses them. Sugiki promises that he’ll make sure he can see them soon. Suzuki claims that he’ll be the one making Sugiki come, and Sugiki asks how he can talk like that when he was the one who looked like he was about to cry when Sugiki first touched him in the infirmary.

Sugiki peeks into Suzuki’s pants and wonders if he won’t get hard unless he touches him. Suzuki thinks it’d be weirder if he could get hard while looking at his own face, and wonders if Sugiki has AI in his crotch or something (Sugiki contends that it’s not his body). They fool around with each other until they finish, and Suzuki wonders why they didn’t change back yet. Sugiki suggests that maybe it needs to be just like the last time to count as a complete set, when they went at it until they fell off the bed, so both agree that they need to go for one more round. This then ties back to the title page, where they’ve finally managed to get back into their old bodies, but have now sprouted cat ears and tails.

Heat 2 of the booklet is 8 pages long, and contains short comics and illustrations that were not previously included in the volume releases. The comics include “How to 10 Dance”, a one-page comic with the Shinyas demonstrating the tango. Their privates end up touching, and Sugiki seems highly amused, gleefully asking Suzuki how it feels. Suzuki says that he was the one who got all bent out of shape over that back in volume 1, and tells him to lay off the sadist mode since they’re not dancing Latin right now. The second comic is “2nd Step”, and shows a glimpse of how the Shinyas were with each other after Suzuki gave the go-ahead for kissing. In fact, Sugiki ends up kissing him so much that Suzuki’s lips get sore and swollen. Sugiki then tries to kiss his neck as an alternative, but Suzuki’s not having it. The third comic depicts Suzuki’s first time in a public bath, where he realizes that Japanese people aren’t fully shaved everywhere like he is. Some of the old guys talk to him and slap their balls with their towels, and Suzuki, seeming a bit confused, gives his own balls a slap, too. After the comics are a selection of illustrations that were never used in the volumes, including this one from a Real 10 Dance event in 2018:

Heat 3 is 18 pages, and contains a variety of colored versions of both chapter covers and scenes from the manga, a couple of which I’ll share below:

Heat 4 includes 3 pages of insight from the professional dancers who consult for the manga, in which they explain the moves shown in specific panels.

Heat 5 is a single page look at Inouesatoh’s work space.

Heat 6 is 3 pages worth of advertisements that have been used to promote the series, including things like ads that were posted in subway stations:

Heat 7 is a single page look at the storyboard for chapter 1 of the manga.

Heat 8 is a single page showing the covers for foreign editions of the manga (Taiwanese, Korean, North American, and French).

Finally, there’s one last page with a thank you message from Inouesatoh, including an absolutely precious illustration of the Shinyas in happier times.

And that’s that! This really is an incredible release, and I’d definitely recommend picking up the special edition if you can. CD Japan offers direct international shipping, and I’ve also seen that Kinokuniya lists it as “available to order” currently (though they don’t appear to have stock on hand, so might take longer).

[bubbleeyecareuk]

Bubble Eye Care UK

Bubble Eyecare carry out thorough eye tests using the latest portable optical equipment. We will look for eye health conditions like glaucoma, macular degeneration, and cataracts. An optician can also detect underlying health conditions such as Diabetes and High blood pressure. You will be given as much time necessary, so we can give you the best possible care and advice. We will bring a variety of spectacles, from full rimmed to rimless, so everyone can find the perfect pair. We offer single vision lenses, bifocals, and different varifocal designs to suit your requirements.

[bubbleeyecare]

Optician Lancaster Get Your Eyes Examined

Optician Lancaster is an NHS provider, of free home eye tests, if you are unable to leave your home unaccompanied due to a physical or mental disability.

[mrmrswales]

The guest on this week's That Peter Crouch Podcast is none other than Prince William.

As president of the Football Association, The Duke of Cambridge has been keen to use his role to start conversations around mental health, including helping to rename the 2020 FA Cup final the Heads Up FA Cup final. "We're hoping that renaming it is a big enough statement that the UK will show the world, and the football world in particular, that mental health really matters," William - making his first appearance on a podcast - tells Crouch. The podcast team met William at Kensington Palace before lockdown - and even shared a curry - before a follow-up Zoom call this month. During a wide-ranging conversation on BBC Radio 5′s That Peter Crouch Podcast, The Duke of Cambridge revealed that he enjoyed a stag do in Blackpool and that Bohemian Rhapsody by Queen was his favourite karaoke song. The conversation turned to the worst presents they had bought for their partner. After Crouch confessed to buying his wife, model Abbey Clancy, a raincoat three years running, William said: “I did get my wife a pair of binoculars once - she’s never let me forget that. ”That was early on in the courtship, that was - think that sealed the deal. It didn’t go well. Honestly, I have no idea why I bought her a pair of binoculars, it seemed like a good idea at the time.” ***** What are among the things a royal worries about during lockdown? Home-schooling and keeping young kids entertained, apparently. "I found it pretty testing, trying to keep the children engaged and interested in some sort of work," he says. "It's been an interesting few months. "I've learned my patience is a lot shorter than I thought it was! That's probably the biggest eye-opener for me, and my wife has super patience." He goes on to admit he's struggled with year two maths. Comforting. ***** "They deliberately keep me away from that. When Liverpool won that amazing Champions League semi-final against Barcelona [in May 2019], I grabbed hold of the Twitter thing and just posted. "It was an amazing match, I was blown away by it. It was one of the best games of football I've ever seen. I got completely out of control. I was like: 'Tweet that! Get it out!'" And nearly every Villa match we've won - which isn't many this season - I've been trying to get hold of it, but they keep it away from me now." ***** “I’ve met a lot of players. It’s very interesting, how different sports and different teams behave in a changing room,” William says. “Whenever I go into the England dressing room there does always feel a lot more pressure. I don’t know what it is, but you notice guys find it much more difficult to relax. “We talk about physical fitness. We never really talk about mental fitness. We all need to stay mentally fit, none more so than profession athletes who - under special circumstances playing for England under huge pressure - have got to have their heads razor sharp as well as their feet and legs. ***** “I took George and Charlotte to the Norwich v Villa game at Carrow Road. We tried to slip in quietly, but the cameras picked us up. Best game of Villa’s season! It ended 5-1.“

[songtoyou]

Chapter 6: Earned It

Tolerate It

Paring: Modern!Tommy Shelby x Original Female Character

Story Rating: R (No minors should read this fic).

Word Count: 2,187

Warnings: This chapter is very smutty. Male receiving. Female receiving. Bondage. Flogging. 

Description: Tommy Shelby is the owner and CEO of Shelby Company Limited. Starting out as a Bookmaker, Tommy had big ideas to expand his riches. In the past ten years, the company has grown rapidly to expand its business ventures from bars to producing alcohol, manufacturing motor vehicle parts, and exporting. One of the richest men in Great Britain, Tommy Shelby, has it all. Unfortunately, the death of his wife, Grace, left the multi-millionaire mogul alone and depressed. He needed someone to fulfill his needs and deepest darkest desires.

Chapter Summary: Tommy takes Rose back to his place after the gala for some fun and much-needed stress relief. He continues to pry more into Rose's personal life. 

A/N: I am still getting used to writing smut. I hope I did this chapter justice.

I do not permit my work to be posted on any other site without my permission.

Tag list: @owenniasstars​

The drive to Tommy's home was quiet. Rose looked out the window as they entered the upscale London neighborhood. The homes were beautiful. Before Tommy pulled the car into his underground garage, Rose could make out the spacious townhouse. With the car in park, Rose stepped out and saw a full view of the other vehicles in the garage.

"Wow," she said, noting the different set of cars, which ranged from Audis to BMWs, to a Lexus. "You actually drive all of these cars?"

"The Audi is new. Haven't tested it out properly yet," Tommy shrugged and grabbed Rose's hand to lead her to the elevator that would take them up to the townhouse.

The main part of the home was exquisite. Tommy's tastes were immaculate. Everything was so elegant and fancy, from the furniture to the art on the wall.  However, Rose could tell that this wasn't a home that was "lived in" but rather that it was more for a show of Tommy's status and wealth. Everything was white and too clean. Nothing was out of place. It was all too designed. Nothing homey about Tommy's home, which didn't quite surprise Rose.

"Fancy something to drink before we start?" Tommy asked, lighting a cigarette. Rose turned to him and asked for a whisky, no ice. "Take a seat. I will be right back," he instructed Rose.

She sat on the couch and continued to look around the home. No family pictures insight, which was weird to Rose. With all its elegance and pageantry, this home was empty of any happiness or warmth.

When Tommy returned with their drinks, he sat down next to Rose on the couch. While Tommy practically downed his drink, Rose took small sips.

"Let's talk," spoke Tommy. It definitely was not a question but more of an order. He leaned back on the couch, and Rose repeated his actions.

"What do you want to talk about?" Rose asked, continuing to take small sips of her whiskey, which was really good. Unquestionably high-quality whiskey in Tommy's collection.

"You. If that is okay?"

Rose quirked an eyebrow. "What do you want to know about that you haven't looked into yourself?"

"Why did you leave Blackpool?"

"There was nothing there for me," Rose responded rather quickly, Tommy noted.

"Your parents still live in Blackpool," he noted. "Do you have any siblings?"

"No. Only child. I'm sure my parents wish they had more since I turned out to be such a disappointment. Not only did the Turners' only child have to get pregnant at sixteen, but she's a whore to boot. Yeah, they won that jackpot."

"Don't get down on yourself. You made a nice life for yourself and your son. Not many people can say that," Tommy reassured Rose.

"I guess so. This isn't exactly the career I had in mind, you know. I got…I needed a way to make a living without relying on my parents or Louis's father. The job I have at New City College never paid enough."

Tommy took a drag of his cigarette and exhaled the smoke. "What does your son think you do to bring in money? There is no way a part-time job as a program assistant at New City College provides enough."

"It doesn't. He thinks I work as a full-time Program Manager at the College. He will never find out what I actually do. Never. It would destroy him."

"What about your son's father? Is he still around?" Tommy inquired.

"He's around. Not much, but he stops by unannounced every so often. Louis's dad, Nick, keeps asking me to marry him. He's been asking since I got pregnant all those years ago," she revealed.

"Sounds noble of him. Why do you keep turning him down?"

"Because I don't love Nick, and he isn't exactly a good person. He has gotten into trouble. Petty crime. Some jail time. He says he has cleaned up his act, but I can't risk it, you know. Louis is still so attached to him. My son is the one I worry about getting his heart broken in all of this if his dad and I didn't work out. Which I already know we won't," Rose shared with Tommy. "You knew about Nick, didn't you? I mean, you looked into my life and my son's life. There is no reason why you wouldn't do the same to the man who got me pregnant at sixteen years old. You have too many assets to protect. You have this inquisitive need to know about everything and everyone to protect yourself. The last thing Tommy Shelby would ever want is to be blindsided. Am I right?"

Tommy downed the rest of his whiskey and loudly placed it on the coffee table with a smirk plastered on his face.

"Get undress," he ordered Rose cheekily and sat deep on the couch.

"Did I hit a nerve, Mr. Shelby?" Rose teased while starting with her shoes. "The questioning stops when I turn the tables on you, huh."

When Rose got her shoes off, she asked Tommy to help unzip the back of the dress. He did so but made sure to graze his hand against her back. 

With the dress off, Rose was standing in her fancy bra and underwear that Tommy purchased. He reached for Rose and guided her on his lap. Cupping Rose's breasts, Tommy gave them a hard squeeze and ran his hands down to her ass. Rose leaned in to capture Tommy's lips while running her own hands up his chest. She pulled off his suspenders and untucked his shirt.

"Just rip it off," Tommy ordered, "I can get a new one."

Ripping his shirt open, Rose tossed it off to the side. Tommy lifted his arms for Rose to take off his undershirt. Now completely shirtless, Rose began placing kisses all over Tommy's chest and grinding against his hard cock.

She got off his lap and got down on her knees. Rose unzipped his pants and reached inside for his cock. She began stroking it up and down and licked the precum off the tip. Tommy let out a moan that echoed throughout the room.

Soon, Rose engulfed his length into her mouth and began to bob her head up and down his shaft. It wasn't long before Tommy blew his load in her mouth, which she happily swallowed.

Before Rose could bring her mouth around him again, Tommy held her off.

"Wait," blurted Tommy while tucking himself back in his pants. For a moment, Rose was confused until Tommy mentioned taking it upstairs. She got off of the floor to him quickly and followed him. He led Rose into one of the several guest bedrooms. She saw her overnight bag in the corner. Tommy proceeded to lock the door, then close the blinds.

Reaching for Rose, Tommy wrapped his arms around her waist and placed his forehead against her own. "Tell me the words before we start?"

"Green for go. Yellow to slow down. Red for stop," Rose recited to Tommy.

"Don't ever hesitate to say Red or Yellow if anything becomes too much for you, yeah," Tommy uttered and unclipped Rose's bra and pulled down her underwear. "It has been a long day, love. I need to release all my pent-up stress and frustrations. Let me take it out on your beautiful body. Would you grant that wish, love?" Tommy asked. He wanted Rose's consent. He wanted to make sure she was okay with what he hand in store for her.

"Yes, Tommy. I consent," she replied and began to unbuckle his belt. However, Tommy stopped Rose and ordered her to the bed. She did just that and saw Tommy retreat to the closet.

When Tommy returned, he had a black duffle bag placed on the floor next to the bed. She saw he pulled out leather cuffs, a ball gag, and a Hitachi vibrator. He took cuffs and attached them to her wrists and ankles. He then got out some rope and tied each wrist to the headboard and the ankles to the end of the bed.

"You feel okay," Tommy asked, checking the ropes to make sure they were secure. "Use your words," he added when Rose only nodded her reply.

"I feel good," she answered while flexing her wrist and ankles in the cuffs to test them out.

Before Tommy got to the ball gag or Hitachi, he placed himself between Rose's legs and began rubbing his thumb along her clit. "It doesn't take much to get you wet, does it," he teased as Rose continued to grind against his thumb. He then leaned forward to trace his tongue along her folds.

The feeling of Tommy's tongue made Rose buck her hips off the bed. Tommy chuckled and used his free hand to place on her stomach to keep her in place.

When Rose was about to reach her peak, Tommy pulled away and wiped her residue from his face. She saw Tommy grab the Hitachi and bring it closer to her pussy. He spread her folds once again, placed the vibrator against her clit, and turned it on.

Starting in a low setting, Rose began moving along the vibrator to offset the sensation she felt. Whenever she was about the reach that sweet feeling of release, Tommy would pull the vibrator away. Rose would only groan in frustration. She knew Tommy was going to prolong her suffering for a while.

This continued until Rose started feeling tears sting her eyes. Tommy clicked off the vibrator once again and grabbed the extra rope that was nearby. He kept the vibrator on Rose's pussy but proceeded to tie it in place with the rope. He gave the sex toy a nice tug to make sure it stayed in place, then got off the bed. Tommy took the ball gag in his hands.

"Open," he directed Rose and placed the gag in her mouth. He secured it tightly around her head and ran his hand alongside her cheek, neck, and down to her breasts. He continued to roam her body until he reached the Hitachi and clicked it on. This time to a high setting.

"I need you to suffer for me, Rose. I need it. I crave it," Tommy began to say, "I'm going to allow you to have all the orgasms you want. I want to watch the tears stream down your face when it begins to hurt. I want to hear your muffled screams begging for me to turn the vibrator off. I want it all. So, I'm going to sit back and watch you suffer for me."

There was nothing Rose could do but endure all the pain and pleasure Tommy gave her. So, she lay there on the bed, restrained, gagged, and made to cum over and over while Tommy merely sat back and watched.

When the vibrator was switched back to its low setting, Rose opened her eyes to see Tommy standing by the bed. She could barely make out what was in his hand. It wasn't until Rose felt a stinging sensation on her stomach that she realized it was a flogger. A leather flogger from the looks of it. Tommy kept bringing it down across her breasts, stomach, thighs, and legs. He did this repeatedly, and all Rose could do was endure it.

Tommy loved the way Rose's body squirmed under the vibrator and now the flogger.

"So pretty," he said while tracing the deep red marks along her body. "Like beautiful ribbons all along your body."

After a few more hits with the flogger, Tommy put it away and upped the speed on the vibrator once again.

Rose couldn't tell how much time had passed, but by her fifth or was it sixth orgasm, everything hurt.

"That's it, love. You're almost done. I need one more out of you," Tommy encouraged as he caressed Rose's cheek while wiping away the tears. "You're doing so good," he added.

By the final orgasm, Rose let out a loud, muffled scream. Tommy turned off the vibrator, and she passed out on the bed. He took out the ball gag from Rose's mouth and wiped the excess drool from her chin. Tommy untied the vibrator from Rose's leg and unhooked the cuffs from her ankles and wrists. He began to rub back the circulation in her joints slowly. He then gently rubbed an herbal balm cream on the areas he flogged to help the irritated skin. The feeling of the cream being rubbed into her skin was soothing for Rose as she continued to lie on the bed and get her breathing under control. The session was intense but pleasurable for her. She hadn't felt that good in a long time. Yeah, it hurt, but it was a good hurt.

"How are you feeling?" Tommy asked, lying down next to Rose and wrapped his arms around her. She slowly turned more towards him to tuck herself closer to his chest.

"Good. Tired," Rose managed to say.

"Rest now, love. You've earned it."

[ugly-crying-over-bucky-barnes]

Field of Poppies Part 7

Summary: After being apart for six years, childhood friends Tommy and Amelia reunite under odd circumstances. Tommy is an outspoken young man and Amelia is pregnant and out on the streets. The bond of family can be unbreakable but it is tested often. Especially when Europe descends into war.

Part 7: Amelia decides on a name for her baby, Tommy decides on a name for his gang. 

             “Look at that.” Amelia folded the knitted blanket over the railing of the cot. It had been a present from her employers at the grocery store. They had given her a couple of months off of work so she could deliver the baby and get settled. “All ready.”

            Tommy was sitting on the chest at the end of her bed. “Just need the baby now.”

            She smiled and rested a hand on her swollen abdomen. “Couple more weeks.”

            “Are you nervous?” He asked.

            “I don’t know.” She admitted and adjusted the sheets on the cot. It was perfect, just waiting to cradle the little boy that was due. “I suppose I am but it feels okay, lie everything will be taken care of.”

            “It will be,” Tommy promised. “You don’t need to worry about a thing.”

            Amelia went to sit on the bed, leaning back on her hands to try and ease the ache in her lower back. “I can’t imagine how things would end up without you, Tom.” She murmured softly.

            “You’d be alright.” He stood up and stepped in front of her. Cautiously, he tucked a piece of her hair behind her ear. Although they had confessed their love to one another the month prior, neither of them took a step to show that affection. Either because they were always surrounded by family or they weren’t sure what to do. How to allow things to begin.

            Tommy and Amelia were very familiar with one another, being friends for so long. But being in love was so different that they almost had no clue how to handle it. It was new territory. Tommy had flings before, girls flocked to him. A combination of blue eyes and a reputation for trouble was alluring. But with Amelia, it was different. Tommy saw a future, which was very unlike him. Most of his plans were related to lifting his family out of the slums of Birmingham. He wanted to make others understand the hardships of the working man. But with Amelia, he saw a personal future.

            She took his hands in hers. “I was thinking about what we could name him.” The change of subject brought Tommy out of his thoughts.

            “Yeah?”

            “Remember I told you about the woman at the fair who I talked to for a bit?”

            “With the baby?”

            “Right, Maxine. I was thinking we could name him after her. I mean if Polly’s right about the gender.”

            Tommy chuckled and gently grazed his thumb over her knuckles. “She’s never been wrong yet. Me mum said she knew what gender each of us would be months before we were born.”

            Amelia smiled. “Well, then we’ll have to name him Maxwell. Max for short?”

            “That sounds like a fine name.” He agreed. Tommy didn’t want to suggest naming the boy after his father and he had a feeling she wouldn’t want to name him after her father either. Neither of them was a role model.

            “Maxwell Thomas Shelby.”

            Tommy looked surprised, wondering if he’d heard her right.

            Amelia looked a little sheepish. “I mean if you don’t mind if he takes your last name. I didn’t really want to give him mine.”

            “I wouldn’t mind at all but…you want to give him my name too?”

            “Why not?” It was a no-brainer to Amelia.

            “I just-” He shrugged and realized he was at a loss for words. The simple act of giving the boy his name was just solidifying the future he would have with Amelia. It was exciting but also petrifying. For the first time in his life, he was thinking about ‘forever’ and not just the brief moment. Everything suddenly had long term consequences. Things he couldn’t walk away from. But he didn’t want to walk away. He wanted to be by Amelia’s side forever. “I’m never gonna leave you, Mel.”

            “I know you wouldn’t.” She looked up at him, trust in her brown eyes.

            Tommy, overcome by the moment, threw caution to the wind. He helped her stand up from the bed so he could kiss her.

            Amelia let go of his hands and for a moment, he was afraid she was going to push him away. But instead, she wrapped her arms around his neck so she could bring him as close as she could.

            It was a thrilling moment but Amelia also felt exceptionally safe. As if Tommy could keep her completely out of harm’s way as long as he was near.

            And back then, Amelia thought he could.

 ~~~~~~~~~

            The betting shop was gaining attention fast. But Amelia was purposefully kept in the dark. The less she knew, the better. And Tommy knew it wasn’t to mislead her or be deceptive. He just didn’t want her to worry about any of the business side. He wanted her to live a comfortable life removed from any of the danger the betting shop might garner.

            Tommy and Arthur had spent a lifetime learning to defend themselves. But they needed to become better. More ready. That’s when the idea of concealing razor blades came up.

            “Coppers can take guns ‘n shit, but what if they can’t find any weapons on us even when we’re still armed?” Arthur mused in the empty betting shop with Tommy one night after closing.

            Tommy posed this to Great Jurossi who worked at her family’s tailor shop. After becoming a loyal member to the union cause and the communist party, the young woman trusted Tommy. So, she didn’t question his reasons for wanting a concealed weapon. The streets of Birmingham were rough, a lot of people had weapons.

            She came back with a prototype of sorts. One of Tommy’s flat caps with two razor blades sewn into the brim. A suitable weapon and a clever one as well.

            And it worked a dream when one of the Birmingham Boys came around talking shit.

            Two weeks after the Appleby Fair, Tommy was accosted by a man who told him Billy Kimber didn’t appreciate his territory being threatened.

            It wasn’t a fair fight, especially since the man hadn’t even reached for his gun before Tommy slipped his cap off. Adrenaline pumping, Tommy gouged the man’s eye out.

            The man screamed as he clutched his face, blood pouring down his hands and arms. He fell to his knees in agony.

            Tommy, his heart pounding like nothing he’d felt before, stood over the man. He clutched his flat cap close, the man’s blood dripping from the blades. “You go back and tell your boss, to never fuck with the Peaky Blinders.” He said in a ragged voice before taking his leave.

           ~~~~~~~~~~~

            The name was pieced together by Tommy. Although he took two separate comments from Greta and Arthur and pieced them together.

            “It’s got a blade peeking out the top,” Greta said as she showed him what she’d put together. “So you need to be careful with it now, if you grab it the wrong way, you’ll cut your hand.”

            Peek.

            “Fucking hell,” Arthur said when he examined the cap. He held it firm in his grip. “You could blind a hundred men without skipping a beat with this thing.”

            Blind.

~~~~~~~~~ 

            “That’s a fucking stupid name,” Freddie remarked from his spot on the front stoop.

            “I weren’t asking your opinion. That’s what we’ll be known as.” Tommy insisted. “People will remember it.”

            “Yeah,” Arthur agreed. “From Brighton to Blackpool, everyone will know the Peaky Fucking Blinders!” He crowed proudly.

            Danny laughed. “So, we’ll have a uniform then, like those cavalry dicks?”

            Tommy shook his head. “The hat isn’t a uniform, it’s a weapon. And a damn good one.”

            “Yeah, he cut a Birmingham Boy so badly, he won’t ever fucking see again.” Arthur grabbed his younger brother by the shoulder and shook him playfully.

            “You did what?” Freddie’s eyes widened. “Tom, Billy Kimber owns the racetracks, what are you bloody thinking by cutting one of his men?”

            “He was on our territory,” Tommy answered simply with a shrug as he lit his cigarette with a match and shook Arthur off.

            “Territory-you don’t have any fucking territory.” Freddie protested. “You’re biting off more than you can chew.”

            “I know what I’m doing.”

            “You could do more with Greta. You’ll have people who will be backing you up, Tom. It’ll help Small Heath more.” Freddie argued.

            “That’s the end goal, mate,” Arthur said. “We’re helping more than those bastards in the Commons ever will.”

            “Greta knows the extent of the law,” Tommy spoke after a long drag from the cigarette. “As do we, but we choose to not follow the law because the law’s never helped us. If we play by their rules, they win. If we play by our rules, we win. Then they’ll have to pay us some attention instead of kicking us to the dirt like they have for generations. But you can’t build Rome overnight, aye?”

            Freddie looked displeased but just shrugged.

            “Who’s building Rome?” Amelia came down the sidewalk, only catching the tail end of what Tommy was saying.

            “Geez Louise, Mel, you’re ‘bouta pop!” Danny remarked.

            Amelia rolled her eyes. “I’m well aware, Danny.” She giggled. Indeed, it was so close to her due date. In fact, it was a miracle Polly and Tommy had let her go for a little walk up and down the block. Tommy was afraid she might go right into labor down the street.

            Tommy ditched his cigarette so he could help Amelia up the front stairs. “Yeah, should be any day now.” He was hoping she would forget anything she heard if he didn’t mention it.

            “Oh, Tom, you’ve got a stain on your hat.” She noticed. “Want me to clean it?”

            “No, no, I can do it.” He waved her off. He wondered if she’d noticed his wariness around his hat. Ever since Greta had sewn in the razorblades, he’d made extra sure to know where it was, never just tossing it to the side. The last thing he wanted was for anyone else to pick it up and see what had been added, worse even, they might accidentally cut themselves.

            “I don’t mind.”

            “You need to be resting.” He said and walked into the flat behind her. “How are your feet?”

            “They ache, I guess.” She was a bit suspicious of how quickly he was to change the subject. “Is something the matter?”

            “I’m just…” Tommy had a hard time meeting her eyes. But that was a mistake because it made Amelia zero in on the brim of his hat.

            “Tommy?” She reached up to slip his hat off his head.

            “Mel, stop.” He tried to stop her but she was too quick.

            “What is this?” She inspected the brim with confusion. “Are these-Tommy!” When she pushed back the fabric of the cap, she could see the distinct lines of a razor blade. “Tommy, what the fuck are you doing with bloody razor blades in your hat?” She exclaimed.

            “Sh, sh, c’mon.” Tommy tried to quiet her so Polly wouldn’t hear the conversation. His aunt didn’t know anything about the Birmingham Boys or the Peaky Blinders.

            “No don’t shush me! I deserve an explanation for this!” She shook the hat in his face.

            “It’s just a precaution.” He said calmly.

            Amelia made a noise of displeasure and she pushed his cap back toward him. “I told you this betting shop was a bad idea, Tommy, it’s only going to get you into trouble. What happens when you’re arrested? You said you were going to be there for me and the baby!”

            “I’m not-Mel, I’m keeping my promise. But this money is going to be good for the family. I’m not going to be my father. I won’t let the baby go hungry every night like we did.” He asserted.

            “We can make do without getting into trouble,” Amelia argued. “This isn’t the only route.”

            “You’re right, but I’m not going to waste me life working for no compensation. If we rely on jobs in Birmingham we’ll never get anywhere. We need to rise above this, Mel, and this is how we’re going to do it.”

            Amelia looked uneasy. “It doesn’t feel right that you need to carry weapons with you.”

            “I’m sorry, but it’ll be alright. You won’t have to worry about me.” He touched her cheek gently and kissed her forehead. “Just trust me.”

            “I trust you.” She said quietly. Though her world had been shaken, Amelia had no clue what was to come.

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[kookacademy]

No One Knows

Part 2

Twelve X Clara

Flashback to their first meeting.

Smut. NSFW.

Part one can be found on my blog very easily.

-----

As she walked into the pub she knew the night was going to drag. Clara loved spending time with her friends, but they had been here for 2 hours already and were, to put it plainly-pissed.

Sighing, she wandered up to the table. If it wasn’t for it being Holly’s birthday she wouldn’t have bothered coming out tonight. She wouldn’t have said no to a night in with a cup of tea and Killing eve on the telle. But here she was, might as well try and enjoy herself. 

“Clara! So glad you could make it !” Holly beamed.

“Hey you! Happy Birthday, I’m going to the bar, does anyone want anything?”

“Two pink gins please, and Clare will have a glass of white” Holly replied.

With that Clara turned from the table after saying hello to Clare and  Stacey and exchanging light hearted banter. As Clara approached the bar she cringed at the sounds of her friends giggling and screaming. She needed to get a drink in her-and fast. 

“Hello love, what can I get for you” asked the barman.

“Two pink gins, glass of house white and a glass of house red please” she answered. 

Scanning the bar she noticed a few couples, a couple of other groups of young adults and a table of slightly older men sat not too far away from her friends.  One of the men looked about as happy to be there as herself, as he was turned slightly away from the other men, not really engaging in conversation and drinking at a rather quick pace. She noted he was unconventionally attractive, skinny frame, greying white hair, long slender features, and no ring. 

“That’ll be 18 pounds 58 please love” the barman said knocking her out of her thoughts

Clara paid for the drinks and thanked the bartender as he handed her a tray to run her drinks on. As Clara arrived at her table she felt a set of eyes on her, looking up she saw the man she noticed  a few moments ago, he looked away almost instantly. Brushing it off, she sat down at the table next to Clare, but remained with a view to the mysterious older gentlemen.

“Clara! What’s new with you then ? Still working at that school?” Clare asked her.

“Nothing much. Yeah still at the school, I’m now the head of English though, which means more responsibility but no pay rise haha! What about you?”

Clara and her friends spent half an hour or so catching up and joking about the latest news  before she felt the need to go outside for a cigarette, she also needed another drink, the glass of wine she ordered had almost gone. 

“I’m just popping out for a smoke “ She told the girls as she put on her leather jacket to make her way out back. 

None of her friends smoked, and she ought to quit really, especially when working in a school. But whenever she had a drink in her system, the crave came crawling back, like a toxic lover you couldn’t quite shake off. 

She was outside lighting her cigarette when she felt a presence next to her, looking up she saw the eyes of the rather attractive gentlemen she laid eyes upon earlier. 

“Have you got a light” He asked, his voice dripping with a scottish accent that had been tainted by the english around him whilst in London.

“Oh erm, yeah of course” She replied reaching into her pocket and handing him her lighter.

“Cheers” he said.

“ No worries” 

“ That isn’t a London accent”  he asked her.

“Neithers yours” She said a twinkle in her eye.

“ Glasgow born and raised. Yourself?”

“Blackpool born and raised. How did you end up down in London?”

“Went to university down south, got a job in the city, haven’t quite left since. You?”

“Something similar”

She didn’t want to get into them details, she wasn’t about to tell a stranger her life story. She needed a few more drinks before she got into that. 

“I’m John by the way” He said offering his right hand to her as he finished the last of his cigarette with his left. 

“Nice to meet you John, I’m Clara.”

“Would you let me buy you a drink Clara?”

The next thing you know she was stumbling up the stairs to her flat, fumbling in her pockets for the keys. John was behind her, hands on her waist and lips grazing her neck. 

After what seemed like a lifetime she finally opened the door to the flat and John wasted no time taking her clothes off. 

“Christ Clara you’re beautiful”  He whispered, hands roaming her body.

She could only  hum in response as his fingers started working their way underneath her shirt. 

Maybe she’d regret this in the morning, fucking a complete stranger, but for the moment her intoxicated body only wanted one thing, and who was she to deny herself ?

They found themselves in the bedroom. Lips on lips, clothes discarded, hands roaming freely and skin on skin. John threw her onto the bed towering over her as she reached up to drag his neck down to her to kiss him. He happily obliged, sealing their mouths together and running his tongue over the bottom of her mouth asking for entrance.If she was a sober person she’d be worried about disturbing her neighbours, but she couldn’t care less at this moment in time. 

His lean figure towered above her as he pushed them both onto the bed. Skeleton like hands wandering freely against her short frame. The cold air blowing against her breasts soon became a distant memory as his hands covered the right one. 

His forefinger and thumb began to tease her nipple, earning him a slight moan in response from her. Satisfied with the melodies that she was producing,  he dipped his head so his lips could wrap around her other breast. Teeth grazed against her nipple, a motion filled with desperation, a moan escaped John as he began to suck against the flesh she bore.

His hot and heavy tongue teasing her nipple as his right hand continued to wander, journeying from the soft thighs and curvature of her arse to her heated centre. He looked up from her breast, meeting her eyes 

“May I tease you clara “ He purred

She offered a moan in response and parted her knees, which he took as a yes, his right hand cupping her centre, gently massaging her. He continued to leave a trail of kisses against her breastbone, teeth nipping at her skin. Her hands found themselves gripping around his head as he opened up her folds.

“Oh my Clara, you’re dripping wet” he mumbles, applying a gentle pressure to her clit, testing out the waters, he knew he found the right rhythm when her breathing increased, gasping for air, hands tightening around his hair and bringing him up for a kiss. He dipped a finger into her centre, invoking a gasp from Clara. 

“John” She moaned

“Mmm” he hummed, continuing to tease her with the one finger.

“If you don’t fill me up I’m going to kill you” She pleaded.

With a chuckle he obliged entering a second finger, opening her up. 

The pleasure was rising in her, John could feel it, her shortened breaths, the way her mouth was gaping open, head leaning back in anticipation of reaching a climax, just as she was about to find it he removed his fingers from her centre. 

“That’s, that’s cruel” She groaned.

In turn she reached between his thighs to take hold of his hardened member.

“Clara, my darling, you need to learn some patience” He whispered against her neck as he dived in scraping against her skin.

“I’ll learn patience later, just fucking fuck me” She replied, her impatiance causing her anguish.

“As you wish”

And without a second thought he’d entered her, his cock thrusting into her heated and wet walls. He started with a steady, slow and teasing rhythm, finding what made her tick, experimenting with different paces and forces of thrusts, until he found just what he wanted.

 He wanted her to enjoy this, to think about this night weeks later, he wanted to tease her and serve her well, it was for her pleasure. He wanted to please her. He wanted to make sure she was squirming underneath him, begging for more. And that he achieved, lifting her legs higher, finding a new angle. This caused Clara to cry out with pleasure, her hips buckling against him.

He was about to come undone at any second, but he held off as long as he could until she reached her end. The pleasure was creeping up on her, she felt it in her nerves and muscles, electricity flew through her veins, until a wave of relief washed over her, clearing out the built up desires. 

As she came, John could feel her pulsing, like an electric current shooting through his nerves, the release of her own orgasm led to his own sweet release, no longer being able to hold on. With a groan filled with deep satisfaction he collapsed onto Clara, catching her lips with a  hungry kiss.

His arms embraced her as he spooned her from behind,hands trailing against her skin, leaving small kisses in worship of her body.

They where both coming down from the high of ectasty of sex, drunk with both desire and alcohol. She felt herself sobering up enough to feel the tiredness pull her into a deep and well needed slumber. 

In the morning she awoke to a headache and the hands of another person around her waist. Then everything from the previous night filled her mind. The very very great sex they had.

John and herself saw each other for 3 weeks, nothing serious, a few dates here and there and a lot of sex. It was only when John received a call from work that he was needed in New york for 2 years that they stopped seeing each other and they became a distant memory. 

 

That was until today.