#I think this could be a good middle ground | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

ghostgirl-22 · 2 days ago

Note

okok this is an xfem!reader ask but could you write something like the video on the link with art?

https://x.com/sugarfemdom/status/1858661845122642119?s=46&t=3CW6FsXs0MAE69-4ntnOGQ

this is SO stanford!art to me it’s not even funny, like??? him and his pretty little girlfriend trying this for the first time and it’s completely new to art but he’s so lost in it he can’t even be embarrassed about how good it feels

Answering this sooner rather than later since Twitter has been trying to shut down the porn links. Y’all are so horny… and I love you for it <33 🥹

CW: 18+ !NSFW! Explicit (porn link)

—-

Art is this beautiful boy, tall, dorky, handsome and smart. Really incredible tennis player. You’d gone to your first tennis match to see Tashi Duncan, just like the rest of the school and while you were walking around the courts he was in the middle of his match when he smiled at you. You smiled back, thinking nothing of it, surely he just did that when he had an audience. But then next thing you know he’s asking for your number and the rest is history.

All it takes is for you to witness one interaction between him and his best friend Patrick, for you to realize your new boyfriend isn’t entirely straight.

They’re play fighting with each other. Patrick chasing Art around the courts while they’re giggling. He’s all too happy to be caught and wrestled to the ground, Patrick between his legs. The other boys are just laughing at them, you think they probably know too.

You fantasize about the thought of them fucking when you’re in his dorm room that night. You’re riding his cock and he’s losing himself, mesmerized by your full bouncing tits (he wishes he could slide his dick between them).

“Fuck yes… oh baby… oh god, you’re so fucking wet baby…gonna lose it… gonna give you whatever you want….” He’s moaning, crying, squirming as you bounce your hips, up and down, the sound of skin slapping together obscenely. His cock feels so good you don’t even care that Patrick could be back from his night out with Tashi at any minute. In fact you hope he walks in on you and gets so hard he has to fuck your boyfriend right in front of you.

You’re so caught up in the fantasy you tease a finger up inside of his ass without much warning.

“Oh shit,” you whisper as his moaning takes on an entirely new pitch. You tease a second finger inside him. “You like that baby?”

“Nngh yes… yes,” he groans, moving his hips. “Oh fuck. Fuck me baby. Please, please fuck me.” His hips bucking up uncontrollably and almost immediately he’s coming inside without even the pretense of needing to pull out. Thrusting himself helplessly while grinding into your fingers. Its so hot you start losing it too. He’s so fucking lucky you’re on the pill the way he’s filling you up.

He’s so lost in all of it that he barely bats an eyelash when you suggest that he let you fuck him for real.

“Of course baby, whatever you want,” he whispers, completely sated, gently kissing your face, as you curl up next to him in his single. He starts drifting off to sleep right away.

His mistake. You come over the next night with some of your lingerie. “Can you wear this out tonight baby?” You ask, pouting your lips. He loves when you play innocent.

“Fuck baby,” Art says shyly. “You’re serious?”

“Mmhm, if you wear it all night and be a good boy and don’t come I’ll give you a surprise,” you coax. It’s all he needs to actually do it.

Patrick gets home as you and Art are dressed and on your way out to the movies. You can’t help yourself. “Is the bra too tight baby?” You ask in front of Patrick.

“Uh…” Art stammers immediately turning red as Patrick starts grinning.

“I can help loosen the bra but there’s nothing I can do for the panties if you’re still hard,” you say softly.

“Where you guys going?” Patrick asks, patting Art on the shoulder, broad grin still on his face.

“Movies,” you smile. “He’s gonna be a good boy for me.”

“I bet,” Patrick says staring at Art but you don’t miss the heedy look that momentarily passes between them. You hate being right all the time. Even if they haven’t fucked, they want to.

Except for a few moments where Art has to take his time to hide his erection before getting up, he’s such a perfect gentleman all evening.

“I promised you’d get surprise right?” You say smiling when he’s standing so needy in front of you, clothes on the floor, dressed only in your lingerie, his dick straining the fabric.

“Y-yes,” he stammers. You make him sit on his bed. Again you have no idea when Patrick will be home but you really don’t care. You show him the strap on, you pull out of your backpack and there’s only one way to describe his reaction. He’s antsy, eager even, but he’s pretending like he doesn’t want it as much as he does.

“Have you ever done this before?” You ask gently.

He ponders his response for just a moment and then nods, shy. “My last girlfriend,” he whispers.

“Mm,” you hum. You ease on the strap and lube it up like you’re doing it with a real dick… the whole time he’s anxious. Legs crossed, his cock so full it’s leaking, dripping through the panties. You settle on the bed, pulling his soft hips forwards. He’s so pale in comparison to you, his skin so surprisingly smooth. He’s barely got any hair anywhere, he says he shaves for aerodynamics or whatever… You know nothing about tennis but you’re pretty sure barely having any pubic hair isn’t gonna make him a better player. It does make his dick look even bigger though.

You pull him onto your lap and slide the panties to the side so you can push the strap inside, he’s whining holding his breath as you guide it in. “Is it too big baby?” You ask gently.

“Mm, it’s good,” he breathes, pitched high and tight. He fucking loves this.

You start guiding it in and out of him. He’s taking it in stride, slowly rolling his hips on your dick. “That’s right,” you say gently. “Fuck yourself on my big dick baby.”

“Mm love you,” he groans. He’s said stuff like that before when he’s in the heat of the moment. You don’t take it seriously. He’s tugging the bra down, teasing his nipples, pinching them. You’re so wet you’re practically grinding your pussy against the harness as he’s riding it. You grab at his dick, sliding it out of the grip of the panties. So pink and achingly full. He’s moaning like a girl as you jerk him off, arching his back into the mattress, grasping at your legs, losing himself while he’s moving his hips, riding the strap.

You’re going a little crazy. You imagined he’d like it but you had no idea he’d like it this much.

“Good boy, fuck. You’re so good,” you whisper, over and over. Watching him fall apart with the strap shoved up inside him. Moaning like a slut.

“Oh fuck, baby, I-I can’t stop—“ he gasps as spurts of creamy white shoot up into the air, he’s coming all over himself, heated sticky liquid coating your hands. “Mm,” he whines. “Mm fuck. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”

“It’s good baby, it’s okay, holy shit. You liked that a lot huh?” You say gently crawling on top of him.

“Mmhm, thank you,” he says softly.

He’s so adorable you kiss him slow and soft.

“Have you ever had a boyfriend baby?” You whisper.

“Mm,” he whines. “N-not really.”

“What about Patrick? He’s hot right? You ever let him fuck you?”

Art squirms a little beneath you and you grin. “It’s okay, you can tell me later. First I want you to use your mouth for something else.”

“Mm yeah,” he says, licking his lips eagerly as you ease the strap off and move to straddle his face.

#art donaldson smut #art donaldson x reader #challengers smut #challengers fic #patrick zweig smut #tw: p link

144 notes · View notes

gatorbites-imagines · 3 days ago

Note

Friedrich getting 'infected' by proximity and becoming obsessed with dhampir reader?

Friedrich Harding x Dhampir male reader

Ficlet

I can’t deny I felt myself drawn to Friedrich, and it’s not just cuz its Aaron Taylor-Johnson playing him. The scene in the mausoleum… was something. This takes place somewhere after anna and the daughters die, but before Friedrich, well, you know. Tried to really go with the handsome mysterious vampire vibe here.

Hope this meets the “intro to obsession” vibe I was going for. I had a lot of fun writing this, would honestly love to write a part 2, if y’all are interested…

Nosfertatu 2024 spoilers ig

The plague was ransacking Wisborg, people dying by the dozen, bodies littering the streets faster than they could be moved away. Rats ran around, running about peoples feet, some even climbing up pedestrians legs if they could.

But Friedrich could not find it in himself to care. After his sweet Anna was gone, his beautiful daughters too, taken by this plague, for he still did not believe that it was some demon that took them. That was simply the ramblings of a woman who should have been locked away a long time ago. The alcohol on his tongue was sour like his thoughts. He truly should have convinced Thomas of turning his eyes onto another woman all that time ago.

Friedrich was not at his estate. He knew that would be the first place Thomas would find him, along with the two doctors who only played into the delusion. He simply couldn’t stand being in their presence right now, not after burying his beloved Anna and their daughters.

His eyes were bloodshot, throat raw from all his sobbing and weeping. He had not even changed out of the clothing he had worn to their funeral. The keeper of the bar he had found, had left the bottle with him after he had pair, deciding to return to the safety of their home, and not be stuck here with Friedrich.

The door of the establishment opened with a creak, cold air seeming to flood the room. What few candles stood about flickered before snuffing out, the room suddenly so cold that Friedrich’s breath was making vapors as a horrible cold sank into his bones.

The moment Friedrich turned his head, still so heavy and weary, the room seemed to warm up again, the candles flickering back on, the flame stronger and brighter than before. A man stood in the door, tall and broad in a way that spoke of good lineage, of a healthy diet, someone rich enough to eat enough to grow tall.

The clothing was similar, but not what was popular in Germany, but rather what you would see the upper class of the kingdom of Great Britain would wear. Most of it, at least. Down the middle of his coat, was stitching’s and details that felt like it was from somewhere else. It made Friedrich think of the few traders he had met from Romania.

What was most peculiar, was the mans eyewear. They looked like Windsor glasses, but the glass was tinted red. Not a dull weak red that most craftsmen could achieve, but a red so vibrant that the shades almost seemed to glow in the mans shadow. Last but not least, was the cane the man was holding. Polished and dark, with a pommel shaped like that seemed to be a bat of all things.

A feeling started filling the room as the men stepped closer to the mourning widow, the door slamming shut behind the mysterious man as if the wind itself as pulled it, his polished shoes and heels clicking across the flooring as he neared.

His walk was graceful, as if his feet were not touching the ground as he moved, like the weight of the world was not holding him down like everyone else. The world so heavy that Friedrich wanted it to swallow him whole.

A shiver that felt both molten and freezing ran down Friedrichs spine, as this graceful man sat down beside him on another stool at the door, the ship merchant finding himself almost bewitched as the unknown man pulled off his skintight leather gloves. It felt almost promiscuous, the way the gloves slowly pulled off his fingers and folded up so neatly on the bar top.

“You would not mind if I joined you for a drink, would you, Herr?” he finally spoke, his voice purred and accented, like a big fancily dressed feline, perhaps like one of those lions Friedrich had heard of. The voice was accented, something British mixed with Romanian. Seemingly out of nowhere, a crystal glass was in front of him, the mans eyes hidden behind the tinted glass of his special eyewear, but Friedrich felt like a mouse before a cat, like he was seeing someone greater than himself.

“N… not at all” he finally mustered out, voice gasped and breathless, like something besides his heavy grief was weighing on his lungs. The bottle of whatever alcohol Friedrich had bought in his blind grief felt heavy in his clammy hands as he pulled the stopper, turning it to pour it into the mans glass.

Friedrich could not wrench his eyes from the tall mans face, he felt almost bewitched. It felt like when he would look at Anna, but… more. Anna was always his beloved beautiful wife, who made him feel like an animal at times with how much he yearned her. But with her, he was the wolf, the hunter, and her his fluffy rabbit.

But now, he felt meek, sensitive, the hairs on his skin standing on end. Friedrich felt spit pool in his mouth as his sudden companion lifted the now filled glass, slowly bringing it to his plush lips, the bop of his throat as he swallowed making sweat gather on the merchant’s brow.

The beating of his heart was loud in his ears, Friedrichs hands twitching on the bar top in a need to wipe them on his trousers, but under this man’s attention he felt stuck as if he was submerged in stone or ice. His smile was… so beautiful. Dizzying, like alcohol and tobacco, like the medicines that made your world spin and colors dance before your ears.

Some of the man’s teeth were sharp, sharper than any Friedrich had ever seen, but his attention was stuck on the way his tongue flicked across his bottom lip to catch any stray drops of alcohol.

“You seemed burdened by a great weight, my friend” he purred, placing the now empty glass down, just to reach upper and take Friedrichs chin between his pointer and thumb. A loud shaky exhale left Friedrich, his Adams apple bouncing as he swallowed, his insides burning at such a small touch.

“I… I lost my wife… my daughters. To this plague” he gasped, the words wrenching from his chest like his daughters wrenching the favorite doll from each other’s hands. Why did he say that? spill such a painful fact to a complete stranger.

“You have my deepest condolences” his accented voice cooed, like one would coo at a small pitiful animal. Yet, Friedrich did not feel put down by the tone of voice, instead his very heart seemed to pump twice as fast as something like euphoria flooded his veins. The very attention of this man had Friedrich feeling more alive than any other moment of his life.

“It saddens me that my father’s obsession should take such important beings from you. I will find a way to repay you, anything you may want. You simply come find me, when you know what that is” his almost erotic voice rolled, his face drawing closer and closer to Friedrichs.

He knew he should pull away, claim disgust and horror of a man, and a strange at that, drawing so close, just after his wife had been put away in the mausoleum. But Friedrichs blood rushed, both to his face and downwards, his lips parting in a soft hungry gasp as his eyelids drooped.

The mans lips were cold, but not as cold as a corpses. Cold, like when you just got in from the pouring rain and you were soaked to the bone. His tongue tasted metallic, salty almost, mixed with the minty flavor of pastils. The kind a man would use to fix his breath.

It should have disgusted Friedrich, yet he found himself arching into it with a needy hungry whimper, a noise his sweet Anna never had drawn from him. The merchant wanted to grasp onto this man, to devour his tongue and mouth in ways he never dared with Anna, to climb upon him and be taken in ways he had only heard shamefully spoken of by others.

Pure ecstasy, what must be a taste of heaven, enough for Friedrich to fear he would spill in his trousers like a fool. Addicting, more than any drug. But just as he was about to indulge himself, the man pulled away, his grin wider and more akin to the demon paintings of the churches.

His teeth were painted red, his tongue flicking across his sharp fangs. His tongue seemed sharper and longer than the average person, but Friedrich felt nothing but want. In his hazy state, Friedrich did not even see him leave. One moment he was there, the next, gone, the door of the establishment wide open and the candles put out.

Rats ran by the door, yet none entered, as if there was a barrier in the way. It was only now that Friedrich felt the ache of his tongue, his hand clumsily reaching up and brushing against it, drawing away only to see them coated in blood. His mouth tasted like blood, his handkerchief soaked in it when he pressed it against his mouth.

His tongue hurt, did it start bleeding on accident when you two coiled yours like a pair of mating snakes? The throbbing of his tongue was almost as addictive as the throbbing between his legs, a wild feeling in his mind and body.

Friedrich stumbled to his feet, neglecting to pick up his hat as he stumbled out of the establishment, leaving his bottle behind as he tripped towards his home. With all the death around them, no one had time to pay attention to the befuddled man whose mouth and chin was soaked in blood, and nobody had time to pay attention to how the rats seemed to go right around him like a parting sea.

He must get home. He had too… he had to find that man again, he had to find you.

94 notes · View notes

lyjen · 24 hours ago

Text

In The Right Place Part 2 | Evan “Buck” Buckley

Summary: Buck’s recklessness frustrates (Y/n), but later he saves her during a call. Afterward, they open up about their pasts, growing closer than ever before.

Trope: Enemies to lovers

Feel free to send in a request in my “Ask me a question 👀” section! 🫶🏽

9-1-1 Masterlist | <<< Previous Chapter

• • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • •

The 118 arrived at the location the 9-1-1 caller had passed through. They were at the edge of a deep, rocky ravine where the hiker had slipped and fallen. The dispatcher told the team the man was injured, but clinging to a narrow ledge half way down.

It was a miracle the hiker could call for help, the reception wasn’t that good in the middle of nowhere, and most of the people that fall half way down a ravine, don’t survive.

The doors of the firetruck opened as the team got out of the vehicle. The dust was flowing around the scene, from the sandy road beneath the tires of the truck.

Bobby took one look at the scene they were working with, and turned to the team. “We’re going with a rope rescue.” Captain Nash said the second he scanned the situation. “Buck, you’re our climber. (Y/n), you and Eddie handle the lines. Chim and Hen, prep medical gear.” He continued, certain of his choices.

It has been exactly two weeks since (Y/n) had joined the team, and she could say with certainty that the 118 was slowly starting to feel like home, like it felt back in Long Beach. She was starting to get to know the rest of the team everyday a little bit more, and the other way around.

(Y/n) nodded as her Captain was done giving everyone their tasks and moved to secure the rope system as Buck fished the harness from the truck and slipped into it with practiced ease.

“You good to go?” Eddie asked as he finished tightening Buck’s gear. A grin appeared on Buck’s face. “I was born ready” he said with way too much confidence, making (Y/n) roll her eyes at his typical reaction. “Of course you were.” she muttered under her breath, continuing preparing the ropes.

The words left her mouth a little too loud. Buck looked up at her, catching the words and the tone. “What’s that supposed to mean?” he asked, raising a brow at her words.

“It means..” she started as she lowered the ropes in her hands and glanced over her shoulder. “Don’t do anything stupid” she snapped as she glared at him from her spot at the ropes.

Buck’s grin vanished from his face and he sighed. “Relax, (Y/n). I’ve done this a million times.” he said, trying to reassure her that everything was okay.

“That’s what worries me.” She shot back as she tightened her hands on the rope. She hoped those words came out of her mouth as a mumble, but it came a little louder than she had hoped. She knew he heard her words.

Ever since she had that conversation on the first day with Buck, things had changed just a little bit. They were still trying to find out a way to work together, but it was difficult working with someone who didn’t think for at least one second.

Moments later, Buck was carefully being lowered over the edge of the ravine, as the rope creaked softly because of the weight that was hanging on it. From her spot on the ground, (Y/n) watched him descend down to the victim. Her eyes were flicking between Buck and the rope system as Eddie monitored the lines beside her.

“Slow and steady, Buck.” Eddie said into the radio as Buck was out of sight, rippling down to get the wounded hiker. “Yeah, yeah, I’ve got it.” Buck’s voice sounded as confident as always. Making (Y/n) roll her eyes at the amount of confidence he had in his voice. “Just focus for once.” She mumbled under her breath as the rope gently moved through her gloved hands.

Buck could feel the jitters in his abdomen, even though he had done this a hundred times, if not more. When his feet touched the small space where the hiker landed after his fall, he didn’t want to put too much weight onto the ground to avoid the ground falling from beneath them.

“What’s your name sir?” Buck asked as he grabbed the second harness that was sent down. “I- Uh- Luther” the hiker stumbled as he was unsure what was happening. “Luther, I’m Buck. I’m going to get you out of here okay?” he explained. Luther nodded in agreement, but Buck could tell he was scared. “Okay, now.. I need you to stand up slow and steady and let me put this around you.”

Luther nodded as he slowly stood up, his legs were looking like they were made of jell-o. Every step the hiker made, how slowly and steady he did it, it made the ledge crumble beneath him. Rocks were breaking loose with every single short move he made and tumbling down into the ravine. If something did go wrong this moment, there would be no turning back. But luckily Luther stepped into the harness, as Buck secured him and stabilized him.

“Got him!” Buck called out, but just to be sure he grabbed his radio. “We’re ready to come up! Green!” his voice came through. A soft sigh left (Y/n)’s mouth as she heard the confirmation, she took a breath she didn’t know she needed.

For once he didn’t do anything stupid. But it wasn’t over yet.

“Okay, let’s pull them up slow” Eddie instructed, signaling to (Y/n) the sign to pull the rope, to get them on solid ground again. (Y/n) held her breath again as they began raising Buck and the hiker.

She could hear the ropes creaking under the weight that was hanging onto the other side, but the system held firm. “Almost there,” Eddie muttered as he had his hands steady on the lines, pulling it.

The creaking of the lines became louder within every pull, making the thing (Y/n) scared of reality as a horrific snap echoed through the ravine.

One of the anchor points failed.

(Y/n)’s eyes widened at the sound of the snap as her heart was leaping into her throat right now. “No, no, no.” (Y/n) mumbled under her breath. The rope jerked violently, sending Buck swinging hard into the rocks. A grunt fell off Buck’s lips as his body slammed into the side of the ravine. He placed one of his hands on the rocks to bring the swinging rope to a halt.

“Hold it! Hold it!” Bobby’s voice roared over the scene as Eddie and (Y/n) tried to get the rope back under control. “I’ve got it! I’ve got it!” Eddie grunted as he used all his strength to pull the two people back in.

(Y/n) threw her weight onto the line, placing her heels into the ground as they tried to steady Buck. “Buck talk to us” Bobby sounded over the radio. Panic was creeping into her chest as it took Buck seconds to answer. “Buck, what’s your status?” Bobby asked.

(Y/n) had her eyes closed as she held onto the rope for dear life. The radio made room for some statics, “We’re fine cap, just.. get us up!” his voice sounded over the radio, mixed with a cough.

Eddie glanced over his shoulder, looking at (Y/n) “You good?” Eddie asked as they made eye contact. She nodded, “Let’s get it over with.” she said as she let her eyes wander back to her gloved hands and they both pulled the ropes.

The climb was slower this time, the rope continued to creak as Eddie and (Y/n) worked together to lift Buck and the injured hiker back up. Her hands were hurting from the weight she needed to pull, but it didn’t bother her. They needed to get the both of them back on the ground. And she didn’t care if she needed to break her own skin to do it.

It looked like there wasn't an end to the rope she had in her hands. But when Buck’s helmet finally came into sight, and his boots hit solid ground, (Y/n) let out a shaky breath and placed her hands onto her thighs.

She was exhausted, not only from pulling the ropes, but also the stress she was experiencing the last five to ten minutes.

Buck unhooked his harness as Hen and Chimney immediately checked the hiker. (Y/n)’s eyes were locked on Buck as she took off the gloves and yanked them to the ground. Before she could let her brain catch up with her movements, she stormed over towards Buck.

Buck unlocked the clip of his helmet, as he heard footsteps coming closer. He looked up, and he found (Y/n) stroming over at him. Fire was burning in her eyes as she shoved him hard in the chest.

“What the hell was that?!” she shouted, Buck’s back falling against the firetruck as confusion took over his face. “Whoa- what’s your problem?” He stumbled as he looked at her.

“God you’re such a fucking idiot, Buck” (Y/n) continued to yell, giving him a shove again. “Do you even think before you act?” she added, before Buck could even explain or say something back at all.

“(Y/n), it wasn’t my fault-” he said as he held up his hands. He didn’t even do anything but his job? Why was she so upset with him?

“You act like you’re invincible, like nothing can touch you, but you’re not! That rope could’ve snapped completely, and then what? What if I couldn’t pull you back up? What if—” she stopped talking as she noticed how loud she was talking, she needed to calm down.

She looked down to the floor and turned her back towards him as she placed her hands on her hips. She took a breath as she blinked the tears away which were welling up in her eyes.

Buck’s face softened as he took a cautious step towards her. “Hey.. i’m okay. I’m right here.” He said. She was breathing hard as she wiped her face angrily. “You don’t get it, Buck..” she paused, her voice sounded broken and it was barely above a whisper. “For seconds… I thought we lost you.”

At first, Buck didn’t know what to say. His confused expression was replaced by genuine regret, even though he didn’t do anything. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.” He apologized with a soft voice.

(Y/n) squeezed her eyes closed, “I thought we had talked this through? That we had a deal-” she paused, and she turned around, facing Buck now.

Her eyes were slowly turning red, “Whatever you’re doing, you don’t get to do that to us. To me-“ her lip was starting to tremble as she said those words.

Buck was caught off guard by her words. “To.. you?” he asked her slowly. And that’s where she realized what she’d just admitted, she cared about him. (Y/n) shook her head as she turned away. “Forget it.” she added, as she made a move to walk away from the conversation.

But he reached out, gently wrapping his hand around her upper arm. “(Y/n), wait-” he said. She glanced over her shoulder, their eyes connected.

She was clearly upset with what happened, but why was she mad at him? He didn’t sabotage the anchor point? Why would she even think that Buck would’ve liked the idea of bringing himself and the victim into a dangerous situation like this? It’s not like he particularly wanted to fall to death.

The sound of Bobby’s voice cut through the small moment they were having, pulling the both of them back to reality. “Buck! (Y/n)! Wrap it up, we’re heading out!” His voice sounded.

“On it cap!” Buck quickly switched, and with that, (Y/n) pulled her arm free with a hard pull. She gave Buck one last look. “Next time, think before you act.” and with those words she turned and walked away, leaving Buck standing there.

But this argument wasn’t really like the ones they had before, there was something new, as if something had shifted.

______

“Buck, (Y/n) you’re on the west side.” Bobby said, as he quickly broke the team into pairs. The warehouse they were searching was a blazing inferno, the fire was clawing itself through the structure with a fury that threatened to consume everything. They had to be fast.

“You got it, Cap.” Buck replied as he tightened his grip on the halligan between his hands as (Y/n) gave their captain a nod as she stood next to Buck. When she heard their names being paired together, she rolled her eyes for a quick second.

Bobby finished his explanation as he and Eddie went to their assigned location and tasks.

“Why do I always get the feeling we always pull the short straw together?” (Y/n) mumbled as they made their way through the huge space of the warehouse. Buck shot a glance over his shoulder, a grin was visible on his face “Maybe the universe thinks we make a good team.” he replied.

She let out a soft sigh, “Or maybe you’re bad luck.” she shot back, she wasn’t quite sure if she wanted that to say out loud or whisper it to herself. They both moved quickly, (Y/n) breath was labored as she followed Buck through the chaos and her flashlight was slicing through the thick grey smoke.

A voice cut through the air, calling out for help through the gasps for air. “Over here!” Buck shouted as loud as possible to get above the roar of the flames. She spotted Buck crouched near a pile of collapsed debris, when she hurried to his side she felt her pulse thundering in her ears.

“Someone’s trapped” Buck said while urgency was audible in his voice. He pointed towards a narrow gap beneath a fallen beam, the faint sound of coughing came from within, and continued with a call for help.

“We need to get him out.” (Y/n) said determined, as she already started tugging at the debris that was blocking their way. The heat was killing. But every second counted. Sweat was already dripping down (Y/n)’s face, she couldn’t imagine what it must feel like for the person that was trapped. The air was thick, and dark, almost if there wasn’t any oxygen left.

Buck threw his weight against the largest beam, grunting as he lifted it just enough for (Y/n) to crawl closer. “Carefull!” he called, not sure if he could hold the weight of the beam with only his body.

“I’m fine! Just don't try to kill me.” she shot back as she kneeled down and wriggled her body through the tight space to reach the trapped person.

When (Y/n) made her way through the tight space Buck had created, she reached the victim. Buck meanwhile managed to move the beam, still giving her the same amount of space to crawl through.

“Sir, can you hear me?” (Y/n) asked, her gloved hand brushing against his arm to try and get any kind of reaction from the man. The man nodded weakly, making (Y/n) let out a breath of relief. “Buck, I’ve got him!” (Y/n) called. “Get ready to pull him out!” she added as she wriggled her way back through the tight space.

She was half way when a deafening crack echoed through the building. The floor beneath them shuddered violently, and (Y/n)’s head shot up as she realized the ceiling above them was starting to give way.

“(Y/n) move, now!” Buck shouted, panic was creeping up his chest as he watched his partner struggling to get back through the tight space. (Y/n) barely had time to register the danger before Buck lunged toward her. His hand grabbed a handful of the back of her turnout coat, yanking her backward with such force that her body slammed into his, making them hit the ground hard.

The crash of debris behind them was deafening, all kinds of materials were scattering in every direction.

For a small moment neither of them moved, their bodies were pressed together as the crash of debris closed in around them. His arms were wrapped around her and his chest was rising and falling against her back.

“Are you okay?” his voice asked, as the adrenaline was rushing through his veins. (Y/n) tried to catch her breath, squeezing her eyes closed for a moment as a sharp pain appeared in her left side. “I- I think so” she stumbled, mixed with a tremble in her voice.

His grip loosened on her body as he helped her sit up, Buck stood up from behind her as he held out a hand towards her.

In pain, she hissed and pressed her eyes closed again. “You’re hurt.” he concluded as he scanned her facial expressions. She shook her head, “It’s nothing.” she said but the pain in her side told her otherwise.

“Can you stand?” he asked her. She nodded, though her movements were slow and hesitant. She accepted his hand and let him carefully lift her to her feet. “We still need to get him out,” she said, motioning toward the man who was coughing weakly beneath the debris.

“I’ve got him.” Buck said, “Just stay behind me.” he added. (Y/n) allowed Buck to take the lead this time.

He worked quickly but smoothly, pulling the man free. Buck put the male in the right position, crouched down as he held the man’s wrist in one hand and in the other hand his thigh. Her eyes were set on Buck as she watched him perform the right steps.

It was kinda.. attractive?

God no. She shook her head, trying to get rid of the awful thoughts she just had. Two weeks ago they were enemies and now she actually started to like him? No. Hell no.

“Let’s go!” Buck commanded as he walked back towards (Y/n) with the man on his shoulders. He kept a close eye on (Y/n) when they made their way through the flames again.

The heat was suffocating, the air thick with smoke, but they kept on going. But finally, the cool rush of night air hit them as they burst through the exit.

The team was already waiting outside, as paramedics rushed forwards to take the injured man from Buck. Buck crouched down again to place the man onto his feet again. “Here, he’s all yours. He inhaled a lot of smoke but he’s conscious.” he quickly briefed the paramedics.

As soon as the man was placed onto the gurney the paramedics hurried away. (Y/n) pulled her helmet from her head and blew the strands away that were in front of her face.

His eyes were locked on (Y/n) as he watched her take off her gloves and her entire facial expression changed when she made one wrong move.

“(Y/n)” Buck said in a serious tone. “Sit down. Let the paramedics check you out.” he told her. She looked back at him, as she let out a “I’m fine.” as she pressed her hand against her side and tried to catch her breath.

But Buck wouldn’t take no for an answer. He made eye contact with Hen who was giving the both of them a questioning look. So Buck waved her over. Hen rushed over towards the two, “Hey, you okay?” she asked as she watched (Y/n) press her hand onto her side.

“She’s hurt” Buck said quickly before (Y/n) could answer. “No, I’m fine.” she muttered through her voice with a lack of conviction. But he turned towards (Y/n) again. “No you’re not” he said, his tone soft but insistent.

She tried to pull away, get away from the conversation but Buck placed his hand firmly on her shoulder before she could try and run, guiding her towards Hen. “Come on, i’ll take a look” Hen said, not leaving any room for an argument.

(Y/n) sighed as Hen guided her to sit on the bumper of the ambulance. She took off her turnout coat as Hen unzipped her medic bag and began her examination. Hen gave her a small, knowing look. “You just had to follow Buck into the inferno, did you?”

(Y/n) let out a weak chuckle, “You know how it is.. The guy moves and you just, go.” she said. “Yeah well, next time.. maybe let him handle the death-defying stunts.” Hen replied as she pressed gently against (Y/n)’s ribs.

She winced, biting on her lower lip to not let out a curse word.

“Ribs are bruised but not broken,” Hen confirmed. “You’re lucky. Could’ve been worse.” she concluded. “Lucky isn’t how it feels,” (Y/n) muttered, leaning her head back against the ambulance.

Hen smirked. “Trust me, Buck’s had worse. You’ve officially joined the ‘pulled-from-the-fire-by-Evan-Buckley’ club. Membership comes with bruises and a lecture.”

(Y/n) chuckled as she caught herself glancing toward where Buck stood talking to Bobby. His shoulders were squared, his hands moving as he told what had happened.

Hen followed her gaze, her tone softening. “He’s got a habit of throwing himself into danger for the people he cares about. You did good in there, but you’ve got to let yourself heal.”

(Y/n) nodded, her stubbornness fading as exhaustion took over. “Thanks, Hen.”

“Anytime,” Hen replied with a warm smile, packing up her kit.

As Hen moved on to help another teammember, (Y/n) sat quietly, watching the embers from the fire flicker into the night sky. The adrenaline was finally wearing off, leaving her with a dull ache in her ribs.

______

The station was quiet after the chaos of the fire. Every member of the 118 had spread themselves over the firehouse, some were going to hit the shower, some were going to take a nap. But (Y/n) found herself alone in the locker room.

She wanted to change into something more comfy to move in than a button up. She stood in front of the mirror as she lifted her shirt just enough to inspect the already dark bruises blooming along her ribs.

“Great.” she mumbled under her breath as she gently poked the tender skin, making her hiss at the touch.

“Those look bad.”

The sudden voice that had entered the locker room startled her, making her drop her shirt quickly. She spinned around to find Buck standing just a few feet away, he was leaning against the doorway. His usual cocky grin wasn’t there now, he seemed softer. His eyes were wandering back to where he had just been checking her side.

“Ever heard of knocking?” (Y/n) said as she turned back to her locker, trying to get rid of whatever moment this was.

He smirked faintly, “It’s a locker room. I didn’t think I had to.” he replied. She shot him a look through the mirror that was in her locker, but the annoyance didn’t quite reach her eyes. It was a small mirror after all. “What do you want, Buck?” she asked.

For a second, Buck hesitated. But eventually stepped into the room, making the door behind him call into its frame. “I just.. wanted to check on you. After earlier.” he replied to her question.

(Y/n) scoffed softly, as she wriggled the button up shirt off her arms and placed it into her locker. “I’m fine.” she said, just like she told him outside earlier.

Buck reached the line of lockers she was standing in front of. “You don’t look fine to me.” he answered as he crossed his arms and leaned his left shoulder against the lockers. “You took a hit in there.” he continued but it didn’t make (Y/n) turn around or glance over her shoulder at all.

She pulled the elastic from her hair, her small bun wasn’t as tight as it used to be a few hours ago. “It’s a bruise Buck.” she said unconcerned as she grabbed the hair on her head in one hand and had the elastic ready on her other hand. But the ache she felt in her ribs told her otherwise. “I’ll live.”

(Y/) finished making her bun as she used some bobby pins to keep it into its place. The hum of the overhead lights filled the silence that was now taking over the room. Buck tilted his head slightly, as he watched her finishing her hair.

“You know…” he started slowly, “you’ve been snapping at me a lot lately.” he continued as he kept his distance. “What’s that supposed to mean?” she asked him as she checked her hair.

“You know exactly what I mean,” Buck told her, sounding more serious now. “Every time I open my mouth, you’re on me like it’s your job. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you hate me.”

(Y/n) sighed and turned on her heels to face him, she crossed her arms over her chest. “I don’t hate you, Buck.” she told him. “Then what is it?” Buck pushed himself off the lockers he was leaning on with his shoulder and stepped closer, searching her face. “Because it’s not just me being reckless, is it?”

And just when he asked that question, she looked away while pressing her lips into a thin line. “It doesn’t matter.” she said.

There was clearly something that she was hiding from him. Something sensitive that she pushed away. “It does to me,” Buck replied softly. She turns away from him facing her locker again. But Buck didn’t intend to leave before he knew the story behind her behavior. “Come on, talk to me.” he said, his eyes desperate for an explanation. He tried to search eye contact through the mirror she was standing in front of.

She brushed her fingers over her t-shirt where her bruises were, and let out a shaky breath. “You really want to know?” she asked, as she found him looking at her through the mirror.

Buck nodded.

She stared at her own reflection as she spoke. She didn’t have the courage to look him directly in the eyes as she told her story. She had the courage to do lots of things: running into burning buildings, collapsing buildings, helping strangers. But telling this story, she just couldn’t. “I lost a colleague on the job once. ” she started.

“Well.. not just my colleague. He was my best friend.” she continued.

Buck’s expression shifted as his arms fell to his sides. “What happened?” he asked her.

(Y/n) swallowed hard, avoiding his gaze in the mirror as her eyes fell down to her hands. “It was a structure fire, kind of like our first call together. He was just as reckless as you, always throwing himself into the fire first. It went well most of the time. Only that time… he didn’t make it out.” Her voice was on the edge of breaking down. But she needed to finish the story.

(Y/n)’s voice was quieter now, more fragile than he’d ever heard it. It was like he was suddenly listening to a little girl.

“He was the person who always had my back,” she continued, still staring at her fingers as she picked her skin. “But I couldn’t save him. I had to hold the line while the fire got worse. I had to stand there, knowing he wasn’t coming out. And then I had to look his family in the eye and tell them…” Her voice broke, and she quickly wiped a hand over her face, trying to collect herself. “It doesn’t matter how many times people tell you it wasn’t your fault. You still carry it with you.”

Buck stepped closer, his voice soft but steady. “(Y/n)… I’m so sorry.” He placed his hand onto her shoulder, carefully, not wanting to spook her.

For a moment, there was another silence. It was there but it wasn’t awkward at all. It was a vulnerable moment.

Finally, Buck let out a soft breath as he disconnected his hand from her shoulder and sank down onto the bench nearby. “You’re not the only one carrying ghosts, you know,” he admitted.

(Y/n) glanced to her side, looking at Buck who was sitting on the bench.

Buck’s gaze dropped to his feet. “A few years ago, there was this guy, Devon. He was on a rollercoaster when the lap bar just opened up and his best friend got ejected.” He paused, as he remembered the moment like it was yesterday. “The rollercoaster was hanging in the middle of the loop, upside down when we arrived. Devon was hanging onto it with his life. I got to him in time, but he refused to grab my hand..” Buck swallowed hard, his voice rougher now. “I told him I got him,but he just let go before even trying.”

(Y/n)’s expression softened and she folded her arms over each other as Buck continued his story.

“If he just reached out to my hand, I could’ve saved him.” Buck said, his voice barely above a whisper. “And for the longest time, I kept thinking—if I’d just been faster, if I’d gotten there a minute sooner, maybe he’d have grabbed my hand.” He looked up at (Y/n), his eyes searching hers. “He was the first person I had lost on the job. That kind of guilt? It doesn’t go away.”

(Y/n) sat down on the bench beside him, her voice quiet. “No, it doesn’t.”

Buck gave a faint nod, his lips twitching into a small, sad smile. “So when you yell at me for being reckless, I get it. I know what it’s like to lose someone. I’ve been there, too.”

She stared at him for a moment, the wall she’d built between them beginning to crack. “So that’s why you jump first without thinking… Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

Buck shrugged his shoulders as a faint laugh fell from his lips. “Didn’t think it mattered. I’m usually the one driving everyone crazy, not the other way around.”

(Y/n) let out a soft huff of laughter despite herself, shaking her head. “You are insane, you know that?” Buck grinned, the first real smile she’d seen from him all day. “Yeah it’s not like you told me about twenty times earlier, but you keep me on my toes.” he admitted.

She rolled her eyes at his words, but there was no bite to it this time. They sat there for a moment. Buck’s gaze flicked to her ribs again. “Let me see.” he told her.

A confused expression appeared on her face, “What?” she asked. “The bruises” he said as he motioned his head to her side. “Can I take a look?” he then asked, more politely instead of a command.

(Y/n) hesitated for a second, but with a sigh, she lifted her shirt slightly. Buck winced as he saw the deep bruising. “Damn, (Y/n), that’s bad.” he concluded as he finally saw the wound from up close now.

“I’m pretty sure I'll live” she muttered. “You’re tougher than you look,” Buck said softly, when his eyes wandered from her wound back to her face. “Don’t you forget it,” she replied, her voice quieter now.

There was another silence, but it wasn’t like the others. It wasn’t filled with annoyance, awkwardness, or anger. Something shifted.

Her eyes were lingering on his face for a second, but before she could say more, Buck’s lips crashed into hers. His lips brushed first a bit roughly against hers, but became softer as his lips landed on hers. The kiss was gentle, a bit hesitant, but most of all: it caught her completely off guard.

(Y/n) froze for a second, making her hand press against his shoulder. But eventually she leaned into him as she let herself feel the moment. His hand moved up to her cheek as he brushed his thumb lightly over the skin as her hand that was on his shoulder moved to grab the short strands of hair on the back of his head.

They both pulled back, Buck searched her face nervously. Did he get the signs correct? “You okay?” he asked, a bit out of breath.

The confused and surprised look that had washed over (Y/n)’s face remained as he asked the question. But quickly merged into a faint smirk as she shook her head. “You’re lucky I didn’t hit you.” she said, laughing. “Wouldn’t be the first time,” Buck teased her, his voice soft as he brushed his thumb over her cheek one more time.

“You’re such an idiot.” she said, as she moved her hand from his neck down to his shirt again. She grabbed a fist full of his button up shirt, and pulled him closer again.

• • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • •

9-1-1 Masterlist | <<< Previous Chapter

#911 #911 fox #imagine #911 abc #911 imagine #buck imagine #buck x reader #evan buckley imagine #evan buckley x reader #evanbuckley

68 notes · View notes

lilyrachelcassidy · 2 days ago

Text

Obsessed

a/n: low key a little inspired by @etherealily cuz I simply love this star, lets just state the obvious.

Summary: Be careful. He is watching.

Warnings: oh yeah. This is super dark. Not to spoiler or anything but physical abuse, language, and psychological manipulation. Also not proof read.

(images not mine. credits to whoever owns them, love ya.)

“What did you want, Nate?”

He grunted, saying nothing. His gaze was fixed on the floor the whole time, minutes elapsing ploddingly, excruciatingly. He was leaning over your locker, the backpack tightly wrapped around his shoulder, but not for long — without a word of explanation, he started taking it off, unzipping it as though trying to create the ambience of mystique.

But that’s Nate Jacobs — taciturn, surly, and simply fucking creepy. Well, creepy because it was the middle of the night, you just finished your training, and yet how the heck did he know where to find you?

Well, again, that’s Nate Jacobs.

“This is for you,” said he while taking out a bouquet of flowers from the said backpack. He wasn’t smiling nor wasn’t he wincing while doing the gesture; he was entirely blank as though it feared him to evince an emotion. See? Creepy.

“What is that for?” you asked, unsurely taking the flowers into your hands which you now noted were a bunch a lilies. Your favourite flowers. What. The. Heck.

Had you ever talked to the boy before? Well, yes, but that’s only because of the mutual friends you both shared. And it wasn’t like a fully-fledged conversation either but a few tacit words were exchanged, like “how was your day” or “oh yeah, the math classes are agonizingly boring.” The mere nothings. So literally where was this all coming from, you didn’t know. You also didn’t know whether to run, laugh, or cry.

“Just rising your standards.”

You furrowed, incredulous. “Literally what the fuck?!”

He then shrugged, the expression still unrevealing, not even a flicker of anything in his eyes, and then he took a step forward towards you. As your instinct, you wanted to recede but you were keenly aware that if you showed any sign of weakness in front of him, he would position himself as a predator, and you as his prey. He devoured in others’ fear. You didn’t want to grant him that satisfaction.

He extended his hand, grasping your chin so that now you are looking up at him and locking in the tenacious eye contact. He began playing with your bottom lip for a moment, flicking his gaze between your eyes and then your lips again. You persisted in that position for a half a minute or so (but you couldn’t swear to it, your heartbeat banged in your chest in a rabbit speed, your time passing as though in a slow motion). You stood, rooted to the ground, motionless. Anyhow, you even weren’t certain what to do, even if you wanted to move…

Was it a sign for you to finally run away from the soon-to-be place of a crime? What were you still doing, just standing here with his psychopath? After all, Nate Jacobs had a reputation… and not a good one.

At last, he scoffed but not shifting in his position in the slightest. “You should know what I mean. You think people in the school don’t know?”

“Know of what?” you asked, your voice increasingly demanding of answers, brows furrowed and you were sure that this amount of face muscles flexing should be a whole new category of a workout altogether.

“Your fucking dating profiles,” he finally disclosed, somewhat angry with that, and also proving for the first time this night that he wasn’t some kind of robot but a person. An unhinged person with some serious mental problems. But yeah whatever. “Love, you are way too beautiful for this shit. Way too beautiful…”

It was spellbinding, really, how quickly he could shift in between the moods because he was stroking your chin again, a small smile on his face, after just literally yelling at you for using the dating apps.

“Now how is that any of your business?” Your tone was laced with defiance, eyes now narrowed and ready to fight back.

He stared you down for a couple of moments, pausing his thumb on your chin and utterly disrespecting your personal space. Then he let out a small sigh with an almost imperceptible head shake. You could feel his breath tickling your skin, so minimal the distance between the two of you was.

“The first time I have seen you was next to this locker actually." Well, apparently we are dodging the questions now. "You were wearing your little skimpy pink skirt, flaunting yourself in front of all the guys. Or am I wrong?” He bent down a little, just enough to look you in the eye on the same level. Another scoff. “You are so fucking desperate for attention, aren’t you?”

Before you had a chance to object, he continued, his hand now growing rougher under your chin, almost as if making sure you weren’t ducking his gaze. “Then we talked during that one party. You know, when we celebrated our team’s win? You were so fucking shitfaced, I don’t even know if you remember this conversation at all. But I do.” His gaze became so hard on you, it was piercing and you really wanted to escape this whole situation now. Your survival instincts were turning glaring red right now.

“From there on I already knew you were just as fucking fucked up as I was.” And out of nowhere, his hand was suddenly wrapping around your neck and he was suffocating you. Violently. Frantically. Your eyes widened, shocked and breathless simultaneously, and your hand flew over to his grasp to try to unlock yourself from the hold but miserably failing in doing so. He chuckled at the attempt, just observing your face without flinching. You dropped the bouquet, and you could very acutely hear it as it hit the floor.

“You are too fucking locked up in your head, you don't even know how fucked up you are,” he spat out, the chokehold turning tighter and tighter every single second. His mouth drew closer as well and you could feel how his breath fanned over your face now; not that you could focus too much on that fact right now as you were dangling in a hold, unable to deliver any air to your lungs. “Trying way too fucking hard to fit into this societal bullshit.”

Your eyes started roaming around the entire place, praying for someone to enter the corridor this very instant, though you knew it would be unlikely for anyone to be here at this time of a day. You looked at Nate again, and noticed just how much he was relishing your horror right now; and it was definitely turning him on as you discerned a growing tent in his pants.

“You enjoy validation, don’t you? No…” He tsked his tongue. “You fucking love it.”

He chuckled again, ultimately releasing you after what felt like an eternity. Instantly you slid to the floor, now finally registering how tear-stained your face was. He stood in front of your cowering self, taking some time in inspecting how much damage he had done to you, and sickly relishing your state, your reddened face, your tears...

"Now listen babe." He hunched over you again, lifting your head with his callous fingers so that you were looking straight into his face and his demented smile. "You are going to delete those fucking dating profiles. Cease talking to whoever the fuck you met there. Because I'm telling you." He yanked your head a little, a little manipulative move of his to foreshadow a warning of some sorts. "They aren't worthy of you. None of them. I will show you, do you understand?"

His face was expressionless but you could tell, even with the tears in your eyes and streaming all the way down your cheeks, that he was seething. You didn't risk it, especially since you knew you were verging on the very dangerous territory right now -- you nodded, the most visibly you could so that he didn't find you uncooperative or something like that.

“Don’t fucking play around, kiddo. I know what's best for you.” He chuckled for the last time, pecking your forehead. And then was gone, probably returning to some mental hospital they keep him in.

You weren’t much aware of your surroundings at this point as you struggled to let the air back into your lungs, at the same time try as might to suppress your sobbing sounds. Your hands were clutching your throat, failingly attempting to loosen an invisible noose from your neck. You knew, in fact, that this was going to leave a robust bruise and that people will be asking questions. But you were going to lie because who in hell was going to believe that a star basketball student was also a fucking psychopath with some uncontrolled anger issues? He might have a reputation but even for him that seemed extreme.

Or had seemed extreme just half an hour ago.

You could feel your eyes still watering, unwittingly so, but after ten minutes or so you could finally make out what was happening around you again — you were in the black corridor, nobody around, and the bouquet of lilies still laid not far away on the sordid school tiles.

Upon closer examination, you noticed a small paper note peeking through, crisp and elegant. The churning in your stomach instinctively increased because you knew very well that it was yet another message from Nate fucking Jacobs among the slew of other messages you learnt about yourself from him today.

Slowly breaking through you fear and bodily shocks of the events, you crawled over to grab a little piece of paper.

You unwrapped it. As feared, you didn’t like it. Very much.

“Meet me in the school parking lot. Tomorrow. 1am.”

#nate jacobs x reader #nate jacobs x y/n #nate jacobs x you #nate jacobs imagine #Nate Jacobs #euphoria #jacob elordi #jacob elordi x reader #jacob elordi imagine

31 notes · View notes

brummiereader · 1 day ago

Text

@mischievouslittlecreature ahh I've finally reached the first chapter of the next act 😍!

The phone booth that stood before them looked terribly out of place, red and man-made and screaming from within as the phone tucked inside its guts rang out. I would have quoted the entire first part because I adored how you described the scene. You fully immersed me in one of the best cinematic scenes of the series. So well that I swear I could see it playing out in front of my eyes. I particularly loved your description of the lone phone booth (this has inspired a new change in theme for my page 😂😍). And you're so right with your observations, one I made when I first watched this scene too. What the hell is it doing there 😂?? It's completely out of place. I don't think I've ever seen a phone booth randomly dumped like that in the middle of no where as a kid growing up in the UK 😅.

Wraith’s hooves clomped against the hard ground, snorts and quiet whinnies sounding from his nose. Ahh, I also really loved this description of Wraith 😍. And with the wind currently battering everything outside where I am, this whole scene was just perfectionist to read ❤️.

That was how things were these days, for the most part. Lizzie may have begrudgingly given her blessing for Tommy to remain seeing Lucy behind closed doors despite his marriage to her, but that did not mean she was particularly happy about it. This made me scoff so loudly! "Blessing"🙄. Lizzie came second! The day she finally realises her place in this arrangement, I will scream with joy! I'm kinda relieved the initial beginnings of this "marriage" are over. I know Lizzie's still kicking her feet about things, but it's a fair amount of years since the last act, so I'm hoping 🤞🏼 that she's at least done with her attempts to seduce Tommy (remembers "you're my property" scene 😳).

I'm gutted to read about Lucy and Charlie's strained relationship 😭. I can see how it could have easily happened with Lucy always away from work, but it's still heartbreaking to see how bad things have become in the household.

Oh, she was going to disembowel Michael fucking Gray. Please do, Lucy! And start with that moustache first. Maybe plucking out each hair one by one 😂.

“I won’t be on my own. I’m never on my own.” Tommy pulled himself into the saddle. “Lucy,” arghhh, I squealed at this 😍! I loved the double meaning to this. Instead of him referring to Grace like he does in the series, he's referring to Lucy 🥰. They really are joined at the hip!

Gosh, another heartbreaking scene for both Tommy and Lucy as they see their lover 😔. I continue to love how you make them descend into these darker moments together. They share so much pain, and instead of dealing with it separately, they always go through it together. Part of me believes they do because they're the same person, that deals with thing in the same way. And another part of me believes it's because they couldn't possibly do it without the other. Like the saying "a problem shared is a problem halved". They're so codependent on each other, and where some people might think that's not a healthy trait to have in a relationship, for Tommy and Lucy it's the only way for them to survive 😭❤️.

Lucy did not speak much during the meeting, though she almost jumped across the conference table to throttle Linda at multiple points. The image of Lucy lunging over the table at Linda in my mind was both epic and hilarious 😂!

Oooh the tension was thick during the Garrison scene. I know Ada is only looking out for her younger brother, but it made me a little nervous how she and Lizzie seemed to gang up. I really hope this isn't the start of something, because she was so understanding of Tommy and Lucy's relationship in the previous part 😬.

She stood, muttering, “I can’t be bothered with this shit,” loud enough for everyone to hear, before storming out the door. Ahh, good ol'Lizzie, always there to make things even more awkward. Even in the series, I never got the impression that Lizzie was really in, in, with what the family was up to. So when I read this part, i was as shocked as Lucy at her outburst and so perfectly worded "cunty" behaviour!

Great chapter, Lily! Can't wait to read more 😍.

Part 26: Do You Love Me

Summary: Devastating news from Michael in America leads Tommy and Lucy to congregate with ghosts.

Word Count: 6,213

Warnings: Drug use, polyamory, animal death, and references to pregnancy.

Notes: This chapter is a little heavy on exposition, so sorry in advance for that. But there's a bit of a time jump between this and the previous part, so I wanted to make sure everyone was caught up on the dynamics between the characters before we really hit the ground running.

Previous Part • Series • Fic • Next Chapter

Chapter 1: Gathering Storm

The wind howled over the barren hills, pushing white wisps of mist across the landscape. There was hardly a tree in sight, and what little browned or yellowed grass there was trembled against the cold breeze. The phone booth that stood before them looked terribly out of place, red and man-made and screaming from within as the phone tucked inside its guts rang out.

Wraith’s hooves clomped against the hard ground, snorts and quiet whinnies sounding from his nose. His sides flexed against Lucy’s legs with each movement, betraying the powerful muscle encased under his deep black pelt.

Tommy eased him to a stop beside the phone booth and dismounted, handing her the reins. Lucy turned her head to look out at the wasteland of dirt and rolling hills around them as he ducked into the booth to pick up the still shrieking phone. Wind tugged lightly at her red curls and kissed icily at her freckled cheeks. Wraith snorted, shifting from foot to foot, dipping his enormous head, black mane twisting in the breeze. Lucy gave him a gentle pat to quell his impatience, watching the dark silhouette of Tommy’s body through the glass panes of the phone booth. Condensation beaded on the transparent material, leaving it blurry.

They had been out living on the land for a few days. Sleeping in vardos, eating what they were able to catch or forage, and languishing in the fresh air that was free from the smoke and soot of the city. Lizzie and the kids were with them, as was Johnny Dogs and some of his kin. All of whom were lingering back at the camp while she and Tommy went to take the prearranged phone call. It was nice. A much needed break of the usual insanity of their lives.

Well, it had been nice. All the way up until that business with Dangerous.

Lucy swallowed hard, adjusting her grip on Wraith’s reins. Poor, sweet, wild horse. Tommy had been nearly despondent when it became clear they would have to put him down. He had insisted on doing the deed alone, and when he came to her after it was done, there was a shakiness in his hands that only she knew him well enough to notice, and his eyes were unsteady and clouded over with grief and something dark and despairing.

The wind picked up a little, and the walls of the phone booth creaked and rattled. A foreboding death whistle sounded across the hills. Lucy shifted uncomfortably, adjusting the lay of her peaked cap on her head, trying to pull it down to protect her ears from the cold.

Tommy emerged from the booth a moment later, eyes sweeping across the muddied hills, taking in the gray clouds gathering in the sky. He looked tired, the face under the shadow of his cap drawn in and layered with stress.

“Everything alright?” she asked when he approached, scooting back in the saddle so that he could climb into the space in front of her on the stallion.

“Yeah. Arthur got a letter from the Angels of Retribution. They said that they hadn’t even heard of us, so I told Finn to send Aberama and Isiah to introduce themselves. But to stay out of it himself.”

“Good.” Isiah and Aberama were two of their soldiers that she trusted the most. Aberama had proven himself to be an invaluable asset. Shaped by experience, calculation, and ruthlessness. And Isiah…well, Isiah had been trained by her personally. “Ready to head back?”

Tommy took hold of the reins, sighing and looking out at the vast landscape around them. They could disappear out here, if they wanted to. Never to be seen again. “Yeah,” he said, in a voice that indicated the exact opposite. Lucy wrapped both arms around his waist, pressing her front to his back, holding onto him for both stability and comfort. He lowered one of his big palms to rest on top of hers where they clasped against his stomach, thumb rubbing her knuckles before taking hold of the reins. He snapped them once and drove his heels into Wraith’s sides, and the massive black stallion took off in a ferocious, booming gallop across the field.

They rode back the long way, neither of them saying anything as the wind whipped at their clothes. Lucy didn’t mind; she could sense that Tommy needed the time to think.

By the time they picked their way to the ridge overlooking where they had made camp, the wind had died down somewhat. Good thing, too. The cold was making her shoulders begin to ache with the pains that so often plagued them.

Looking down, she could see the little figures of Johnny and his boys moving amongst the wagons. They had dug a huge hole in the time that they’d been gone, a small mountain of dirt piled up next to it. The little lake shimmered in the sunlight. A dog barked.

Tommy brought Wraith to a stop, staring with his eyes fixed not on the hole Johnny and his men had dug, but the body wrapped in canvas next to it. Lucy gave him a small squeeze around the middle. Near the wagons, by where a table and chairs had been erected, she could see the tall, elegantly dressed figure of Lizzie looking up at them. Beside her, a smaller figure, hard to make out at this distance, but probably Ruby, turned her head to stare at the ridge.

In front of her, Tommy shifted, reaching into his pocket and procuring a small brown bottle, uncorking it.

“Can I have some?” she asked, after he took a small swig. He passed it back to her silently. The drug burned slightly as it entered her mouth and coated her throat. She was mindful not to drink too much; she was small, and it wouldn’t take a lot to have her flying high as a kite if she wasn’t careful. Handing back the vial to Tommy, he slid the cork back into place and pocketed it.

More and more often, they found themselves swigging from that little bottle.

Tommy nudged Wraith into moving again, and they started to follow the path descending the ridge, heading into the camp.

Once they arrived, Tommy dismounted first to be immediately greeted by Ruby running to him. He stooped, beckoning her to him and scooping her into his arms. Lizzie was right behind her daughter, moving to walk by Tommy’s side as he carried Ruby over to where the wagons were stationed. She gave a thin, barely perceptual smile to Lucy as she passed by the horse.

It was no secret that Tommy and Lizzie had problems. Lucy lived at Arrow House with them; she had a front row seat to all the shouting matches and bitter resentment that had plagued their marriage.

She had done her best not to get involved. Tommy and Lizzie’s relationship was their business, and she doubted that Lizzie would respond well to her meddling in it. But it was hard, with her proclivity to want to fix things for people, to not try to repair their strained union.

Things between her and Lizzie were…tumultuous. They’d had their share of rough patches here and there in the years since she and Tommy got married. Incidents like Lizzie asking Lucy to move rooms. It had been shortly after Lizzie and Ruby moved into Arrow House. Lizzie had wanted Ruby to have the room closest to the master bedroom should she need her in the middle of the night. Lucy hadn’t minded. Of course, she had assumed that Lizzie would have her moved to one of the unoccupied rooms further down the hall, not to the opposite end of the house. In a drafty, overlooked room. The drafts went unfixed for nearly a month, despite her bringing them up to Lizzie multiple times. It was only after Tommy took notice of them that they were finally dealt with.

Over time she’d grown used to Lizzie’s bursts of jealousy-induced passive aggression, even though it still always stung. Despite her attempts to not let it bother her. In the end, she really felt quite sorry for her, and massively guilty for the role she had undeniably played in amplifying her misery.

She should have put a stop to it all earlier, back when Lizzie was still a prostitute that she and Tommy frequented when looking for a bit of variety in their sex life. And especially after he had made Lizzie his secretary. And yet they still continued to intermediately sleep with her. That had been a mistake, and not just because of the pregnancy. It had led Lizzie on, and that hadn’t been fair.

And then they’d gone and made things even worse when Tommy married Lizzie.

They had not been dishonest about the arrangement that would come with the marriage. Tommy had not married Lizzie for love, but for convenience. Having an illegitimate child could hurt his image as a politician. And he needed a wife. Someone to run the house and care for the children while he was gone. And to help project the image of a traditional family to his constituents. Marrying her was the right, respectable thing for him to do. Lizzie would enjoy all the benefits of being Mrs. Shelby, but Tommy and Lucy would be continuing their relationship. They had all been clear on that. Lizzie had said that she was okay with that.

But Lizzie had always been in love with Tommy. Lucy had seen it in her eyes, years ago. And their current actions had done nothing but fan the flames of hope that Lizzie carried in her heart that someday, Tommy would love her the way that she wanted him to. Lucy sometimes wondered if Lizzie thought that if she wanted it badly enough, she’d be able to change him into the man that she wanted him to be.

Tommy had tried. Sort of. Lucy had seen it during the first year of his marriage to Lizzie. He had tried so hard to play the role of if not a loving and attentive husband, than at the very least a present and dutiful one. But as time went on and the mask slipped, he had ultimately given up the charade, resigning himself to a life with a wife who he didn’t love.

And then the bitterness and resentment came. There were days where things were better. Lucy could sit by the fire, giggling and playing cards or chess with Lizzie after the kids had gone to bed. But then there were days where even the smallest thing set Lizzie off, spewing cruel words at her or Tommy who, true to his nature, gave just as good as he got.

In all honesty, Arrow House was no longer the refuge that it had once been. She and Tommy were now relegated to quick and brief touches and kisses in the darkest corners of the house or else they risked Lizzie’s ire. Not that work was much different, as anything outside of strictly professional behavior could risk blowing up everything they had worked so hard to build these past few years. There was the apartment they had in London for when they worked too late to justify driving back to Birmingham, but often when they went there they were both too exhausted to do much more than sleep. It was with a bit of a startle that Lucy realized that she could not remember the last time they had done anything even remotely romantic outside of quick, almost mindless fucks.

One of Johnny’s boys came over to lead Wraith away by the reins, and Lucy remained securely seated in the saddle, resting a hand on the back of the irritable horse’s neck. Even after so many years, he didn’t take too kindly to strangers, and there was always a risk when someone unfamiliar tried to approach him that he would try to bite or kick. But with her still astride him, he behaved himself, letting Johnny’s boy guide him towards one of the wagons.

“I’ll do that,” she said to the man, dismounting with ease and taking the rope he was about to use to tie Wraith to the side of the vardo. He nodded respectfully, handing it over and walking around her to go help Johnny and his men haul the carcass of Dangerous into the grave they’d dug.

She’d just finished looping the rope into place, giving Wraith a companionable pat on the flank when she heard Charlie’s voice raise in an angry cry from where he, Tommy, Lizzie, and Ruby were all gathered at a nearby wagon,

“No! It’s what you do! Shoot horses, shoot people. Everybody says!” He stood, turned, and disappeared back into the wagon, stomping his little feet in a way that was eerily similar to his father.

Tommy winced, shoulders drawing in, expression locking down in a way that Lucy recognized as him working very hard not to let the hurt he was feeling show too obviously on his face. Straightening, he fetched a cigarette from his case and went to the hole where Dangerous’s body lay. After a moment’s hesitation, Ruby followed him.

“What happened?” Lucy asked in a quiet voice, going to stand by Lizzie, slipping off her gloves to tuck them away in her pocket.

“Charlie heard Johnny say in Rokka that Tommy shot the horse.”

“Oh.”

“He doesn’t understand that it was out of mercy. And he won’t listen to anyone who tries to explain it to him.”

Lucy sighed, pulling out and lighting a cigarette. “Well, at least we know he’s been paying attention when learning his languages.”

“Maybe you could try talking to him…”

She flicked ash down onto the grass. “He doesn’t really listen to me all that much these days.”

Lizzie looked down and away. Lucy thought she might’ve seen a flicker of guilt in her eyes.

There was a time when she and Charlie were close. She had known him since before he was born. And even prior to Grace’s death, she had been a second mother to him. Something both Tommy and Grace encouraged. Her lovers had wanted their son to see her as another parent, and so that was the position she had taken up in his life. Or at least tried to.

But things had shifted in the past few years. Some of it could be chalked up to just the boy growing up and that typical Shelby willfulness finally making itself known. She didn’t think, for all her faults and all the strife between them, that Lizzie had purposefully driven a wedge between her and Charlie. But working with Tommy in London meant that she wasn’t home as much, and with Lizzie always at Arrow House and functioning more often as his mother than Lucy was, things had changed. Slowly, they drifted apart. And now he hardly spoke to her. He called Lizzie Mum, but not her. Never her.

Lucy could not fault him for growing more partial to Lizzie. After all, she was the one who was always there, to help him with his schoolwork, attend his extracurriculars, mind that he ate his vegetables at dinner, and kiss his scraped knees when he fell playing in the garden. It made sense that he would grow closer to her, and that he would side with her when he saw just how much distress the arrangement between his three parents brought her. In his eyes, Lucy had to figure that she appeared to be the primary source of his mother’s pain.

Maybe she was.

Perhaps that was why she gave up so easily without a fight, letting him drift away from her with no protest. A way to try to atone for the agony she had caused Lizzie. She may have Lizzie’s husband, but Lizzie had her child.

She loved Charlie. She only ever wanted what was best for him, and right now, that was Lizzie. She would take care of him, offer him the closest thing to a normal, stable life that was possible for him to have.

It was better for him, this way. He deserved a better mother than the broken fragments that was all Lucy had to offer.

Despite her understanding of her boy’s–no, not hers, not anymore–changed emotions towards her, it hurt like a knife to the chest. She had loved him from the moment she first held him, had rocked him to sleep hundreds of times when he was a baby, had watched him grow up into the precocious little boy he was now. He was her baby. Or at least the closest she would ever have to one.

Of Tommy’s two children, Ruby was surprisingly the one who was warmer towards her these days. But then again, Ruby was sweet with everyone.

Turning her gaze back over to where Tommy stood by the unfilled grave with his daughter, she examined the lines of sorrow standing out starkly on his face as he gazed at the dead horse in the hole. She dropped her cigarette to the ground, grinding it under her heel, about to go to him when the growl of an approaching engine caught her attention. Her head turned, hand half raising to dip inside her coat to where her revolver sat in its holster tucked securely against her ribs, before she recognized it as Arthur’s car.

By the grave, Tommy had also noticed the car, ushering Ruby over towards Lizzie and moving to meet Arthur when he shut off the engine and jumped out of the driver’s seat. He had a newspaper in his hand.

Lucy moved to stand at Tommy’s side, craning her head around his shoulder to peer at the newspaper’s headline when Arthur handed it over.

BILLIONS LOST IN WALL STREET CRASH, it read, in huge black letters. Behind them, she could hear the scrape of shovels and the dull thud of dirt being dumped back into the hole.

Despite the headline, her stomach did not drop with horror. They had known that this was coming. Tommy had already instructed Michael to sell before the numbers of the stocks and shares collapsed, so they would be–generally speaking–unaffected.

It wasn’t until Arthur started speaking, explaining how Michael had ignored their advice in favor of that of a broker and held on, that her guts began to turn with outrage and dismay. Michael had held on. And taken them all down with him.

She exhaled roughly, taking a step back, slowly shaking her head. Oh, no. Oh, fucking no.

How much had they lost? Just trying to do the calculations in her head for a ballpark number made her temples start to hurt.

Oh, she was going to disembowel Michael fucking Gray.

Incompetent, arrogant, backstabbing fool. They should never have forgiven him for that shit he pulled during the vendetta. Banishment had been too kind a punishment for him.

“That idiot,” she seethed, looking to Tommy. “I’m going to kill him.”

The expression on his face said that he may very well let her. He started to tread back and forth, rubbing at his eyes, mumbling in a way she knew was more to himself than to any of them. His teeth were grinding together, jaw jumping under his skin. It did not take long before he was shouting, pacing the ground like an angry jaguar and raging.

“What do I have to do to make people fucking listen to me!?” he screamed into the wind, a hand going to clasp over his mouth as he paced a few more times then stilled, eyes staring with his mind spinning behind them.

And then he was jumping into action, sounding off orders to both Lizzie and Arthur with a snap of his fingers. He did not need to give Lucy her directions, she already knew them, reaching into her pocket to procure her leather gloves and slide them over her hands, gesturing to one of Johnny’s men to get Wraith where he was tied up.

“I need to do some thinking,” Tommy announced as he headed towards the horse with Arthur on his heels.

“Oh. Oh, you do that best on your own, don’t you, eh?” Arthur challenged, agitated.

“I won’t be on my own. I’m never on my own.” Tommy pulled himself into the saddle. “Lucy,” he said, and she was already there, reaching up to take his outstretched hand, the strength in his arm helping to leverage her up onto Wraith’s back behind him. He gave one last set of instructions to Lizzie, and a final parting word to Arthur, and then he was driving Wraith into a gallop deeper into the hills. This time, they did not head up to the top of the ridge, but instead towards the trees, Wraith’s canter slowing as they entered the dense thicket of foliage, the wilderness seemingly opening up, and swallowing them whole.

∗ ∗ ∗

“Do you want me to kill him?”

They were seated on a log in front of the dancing flames of the fire Tommy had ignited shortly after darkness fell over the forest. Lucy had her head on his shoulder, leaning against his side to soak in the warmth that radiated from his body.

“Hm,” Tommy hummed, fingertips stroking where they rested on her upper arm, cheek turning against the top of her head. She had to bite back a smile at the clear consideration in his voice. “Not yet. Not until we know what really happened.”

“He’s a snake.”

“He’s an idiot. But that doesn’t mean this was a purposeful betrayal.”

“Yeah,” she agreed with a sigh, adjusting her head on him. Tommy picked at a sprig of mint held in his gloved hands, pulling off a few of the green leaves and popping them into his mouth. Wraith snorted from where he was tied to a nearby tree. “I still don’t trust him.”

Tommy tossed the remainder of the sprig away. “Me neither.”

Before them, the fire popped and crackled. Lucy grabbed a few bits of kindling that they’d collected to feed into the flames.

“I hate to add more onto your plate, but I got a message from Ada’s doctor earlier.” Every day since they’d been out in the country, she went to the red phone booth to take messages from Frances, Isiah, and their other various informants. “She’s pregnant.”

Tommy sighed deeply, but didn’t appear surprised. “Younger’s?”

“The doctor didn’t know, but I would assume so. Who else could it be? Not that it affects things all that much. I just thought you should know. So you don’t get blindsided by it later.”

“Thank you.”

They fell into companionable silence again. He had been quiet since they took off into the woods, busy in his head working on all the new problems Michael had just created for them. Lucy offered suggestions and insights when prompted, but otherwise just let him be, knowing after so many years together that her presence at his side was all he needed while he strategized.

He shifted, reaching into his pocket to once more procure the little bottle of dope he kept tucked away there. Uncorking it, he handed it over to her first. Lucy took it gratefully, the glass cold against her fingers as she brought it to her lips and tilted her head back to take a swig. Almost immediately, she felt her mind begin to loosen, the corners of her eyesight growing fuzzy.

She handed the bottle back to Tommy. There wasn’t much left; and he downed the remainder of the drug, tossing the empty bottle into the fire uncaringly. His arm went around her once more, the solid strength of it holding her to his side. Lucy snuggled in close, grateful for the comfort and heat, hoping that she could offer the same to him.

Her eyes closed, and together, they waited for the ghost.

She did not need to open her eyes to know once she had arrived. She could sense the way that the air around them seemed to shift, the weight of another presence appearing across the fire from them heavy despite her lack of a corporeal body.

Tommy spoke to her a little, and she responded in her gentle Irish lilt. Lucy could hear the smile on her face. The love in her voice.

Quick as she appeared in front of them, she was suddenly behind them, her arms encircling them. Solid and real, though they shouldn’t have been. Her body was nothing but ash, spreading into the wind, and yet she was there, holding them as though she had never left.

“All this time…” Tommy murmured, reaching to hold onto the ghost tighter.

“I know. Our love still remains,” Grace said. Lucy felt tears squeeze from her eyes to roll down her cheeks. Grace’s hand petted the back of her head.

She had been coming to them both more and more often lately. They had each seen her on rare occasions before, but now it was a regular occurrence. Probably because of the dope.

Shared hallucinations, or real? It didn’t really matter. She was there. She was speaking to them and holding them. Things were as they once were, before she and their only real chance at happiness was ripped away from them.

She was gone as quickly as she arrived, leaving nothing but cold air where she once stood over them. Lucy snatched at the empty space where her hand had been settled on her dead lover’s waist, lips trembling. Instead she latched onto Tommy, feeling him maneuver her so that her head was in his lap. He hugged her tighter, face bowing to bury in her hair, and there in the dark, she felt through their bond the true heavy weight of his despair crashing down onto them both, and the dampness of his salty tears dripping onto her scalp to seep into her skin.

∗ ∗ ∗

By morning, they had a plan mapped out. Not a particularly desirable or moralistic one, but then again, few of their strategies ever really were.

It would sustain them until the current financial crisis was over, at the very least.

The first meeting on the subject was held at the Shelbys’ office in Birmingham. The long table in the conference room was already occupied by Polly, Ada, Arthur, Linda, Lizzie, and Leon Greene when Lucy and Tommy arrived. Lucy raised an eyebrow at the tension she felt already crackling in the air and shared a look with Tommy as she sat down in the chair to the right of his.

The meeting went over well enough, despite Linda’s snobbish remarks and attempts to undercut Tommy at every turn. She’d been getting worse, ever since Arthur became chairman of the board. Like she thought that it was her husband who ought to be king, instead of Tommy.

The idea made Lucy want to roll her eyes so hard in her head that they were at risk of popping out. She loved Arthur to pieces, she really did. But he was not suited to the position of leading the empire Tommy had built.

Lucy did not speak much during the meeting, though she almost jumped across the conference table to throttle Linda at multiple points. Instead, she relegated herself to the sidelines, watching and listening quietly, as she so often did. Examining the faces of those seated around the table as Tommy explained their current financial situation, and his proposal for what they were to do to try to mitigate it.

At the end of the meeting, all of them–except for Linda who had already stormed out–voted unanimously to go forward with Tommy’s plan.

Not that there had ever been any doubt that they would.

The next meeting was for family only. They left Mr. Greene back at the office while the rest of them stepped out into the smoky air of Small Heath, heading for the Garrison. They entered the pub to rapturous cheers and applause, people immediately swarming around Tommy, eager to shake his hand and thank him for the work he’d been doing.

Lucy watched him work the room, effortlessly charming each person who approached him. By the time he raised his voice to address the entire population residing in the pub, he had them all in the palm of his hand. He probably could have told them all to walk into the canal and they would have done so without question.

His request that they move into the saloon bar attached to the pub, albeit with the incentive of a promise of free drinks, was met with more cheers, the patrons hurrying towards the doors. Ada, Polly, and Lizzie all went to convene in one of the booths while Tommy leaned his shoulder against a nearby pillar, and Arthur went to sit in a chair at a table next to the booth. Lucy moved to close the doors leading into the saloon bar once all the patrons were packed inside, flicking the lock into place. Then she pulled up a chair between Arthur and Tommy, shedding her coat to lay over the back of it before sitting.

The meeting started off with Ada drawing a bullet from the depths of her handbag and setting it down on the table in front of her. Followed by an announcement that not only had Finn disobeyed them about staying out of the hit they’d ordered in Chinatown, and as a result ended up on Ada’s couch with a bullet in his arm, but he’d also completely spilled his guts to her as far as the details of what he’d been doing there.

Fucking kid needed a lesson in how to keep his damn mouth shut.

But the damage had been done, and Ada and Lizzie were both well and truly furious about the whole thing.

“Oh, Tommy, sweetheart,” Lizzie shook her head. Lucy raised her eyebrows at the term of endearment. “I listen to you. I listen to you when you tell me no more sport for anyone named Shelby. I listen to you when you make me promises.”

Lucy looked down at her hands, unconsciously playing with the plain golden rings that encircled several of her fingers. Guilt twisted inside her like a snake, writhing and squirming. How many of those promises had Tommy broken, in the years since they’d been married?

How many times had it been her fault when he did?

He tried to explain why he’d sent their boys into Chinatown, but that only seemed to fan the flames of Lizzie and Ada’s mounting anger.

“Jesus Christ, Tommy!” Lizzie snarled, slamming her hand down on the leather material lining the bench of the booth.

“I think that you both are overreacting a little here,” Lucy decided to finally speak. “It’s not that big of a deal. And it’s not that different from the type of thing we used to do all the bloody time. Finn’s fine, an asshole pimp is dead, and we’re about to make a hefty hunk of cash for carrying out the hit.”

“It was a particular opportunity.” Lucy started a little when, of all people, Polly chimed in. Polly, who hated her. Who had never accepted her. And yet, who had just spoken up in agreement with her.

Lizzie’s eyes darted between her, Lucy, and Tommy. Something dawned on her face, and then her features hardened into a deadly expression that Lucy had become all too familiar with.

“But you told Polly and Lucy,” was all she said in response to the additional explanation that Tommy tried to give her, her voice cold as ice. And despite Polly, Arthur, and Tommy all starting to speak with further details and justifications for the whole thing, all it took was one look at Lizzie’s face and Lucy knew not a single word was actually getting through to her. She was too focused on that one detail: that her husband had told his lover and his aunt information that she believed herself to be entitled to know instead.

She would be chewing on that for the remainder of the week. Probably even longer.

“Lizzie, you need to understand–” Tommy started, but didn’t get very far.

“That you tell Lucy and Polly, but not me.” Her jaw was clenched in a way that Lucy knew meant she was fighting very hard to keep the venom she wanted to spit at them from spewing out. Probably the only reason why it hadn’t already was because they were amongst others. If they’d been in private, she’d have told them both exactly what she thought of them.

As if they didn’t know already.

Tommy’s further attempts to smooth things over went about as well as Lucy expected. Once Lizzie got into one of her moods, she could be impossible to reason with. It was better to just leave her alone until it passed.

“Lizzie, if Finn had listened to me, you wouldn’t have known. When we go home, I’ll explain,” Tommy tried. Lucy cringed, already knowing that was the wrong thing to say even before Lizzie scoffed and started to gather up her things.

She stood, muttering, “I can’t be bothered with this shit,” loud enough for everyone to hear, before storming out the door. Lucy rolled her eyes. All this whining and complaining about not being kept in the loop on things, and yet every time she did have the opportunity to be involved, she acted as if it was the last thing she was actually interested in doing.

Fuck, she was not looking forward to dealing with her and the earful she was sure they were due to get when they got home. Maybe it would be better for them to stay away for a few days to let Lizzie cool off. They could sleep over at their apartment in London instead of going home to Arrow House.

It didn’t take long for Ada to follow Lizzie in storming out. Lucy watched her go, rubbing at one of her temples to try to stave off the headache she felt coming on. Jesus Christ, what was with all the cunty attitude today?

Tommy came to sit down in the vacant chair next to Lucy, leaning forward as Polly urged him to go easy on Ada on account of her pregnancy. It wasn’t all that surprising that Polly knew. Even if Ada hadn’t told her yet, Polly always knew when someone was pregnant.

In fact, the only one left at that table who didn’t know was Arthur, who almost choked on his whiskey at the revelation.

Polly left not long after that, though not before all but confirming to them that Ben Younger was the father of Ada’s baby. Lucy shared another knowing look with Tommy as he stood and slid into the booth, occupying the spot near the window where Polly had been a moment ago. Lucy shimmied in next to him, the red leather creaking a little under her as she got situated at his side. Arthur poured three glasses of whiskey, passing two of them across the table to her and Tommy.

Lucy sipped quietly at her drink while the brothers examined and discussed the bullet that had been ripped out of Finn’s arm.

“Let me see,” she held out her hand for the bullet when Arthur asked about the writing on it. She squinted at the tiny characters carved into the metal. “Hm. My Chinese isn’t fantastic, but I think this one just says ‘death.’” She handed it back to Arthur.

“Angels of Retribution?” he asked Tommy.

“Yeah,” he kept turning his gaze out the window. Outside, Lucy could hear the sounds of horse’s hooves clomping against the cobbles and children chattering. She inched a little closer to him, until their sides just barely brushed. It was only them and Arthur; no need to try too hard to hide their relationship.

“No one fucking listens to me,” Tommy lamented softly, leaning back with his head tilted towards the ceiling. Lucy nudged him companionably.

“I do.”

He shot her a soft look, hand smoothing down the back of her head, leaning forward to kiss her hairline. His unspoken gratitude hummed between them warmly. He gave her a gentle tap on the back to let her know it was time to go after taking the bullet from Arthur and pocketing it. Lucy slipped out of the booth, going to grab her coat and tug it back on, wincing at a slight twinge in her shoulders as she did.

“See you later, Arthur,” she said in goodbye to the eldest Shelby brother where he was still sat in the booth. Tommy gave him a pat on the shoulder, telling him to let the patrons in the saloon bar come back in if they wanted, and then led the way outside, into the smoke and soot of Small Heath.

Previous Part • Series • Fic • Next Chapter

Thank you for reading! Please consider leaving a comment, reblog, or like. I always appreciate feedback and love getting the opportunity to interact with you and hear your thoughts!

#tommy shelby #thomas shelby #tommy shelby x oc #tommy shelby fanfic #tommy shelby series #tommy shelby imagine #peaky blinders #peaky blinders fanfic #peaky blinders series #peaky blinders imagine #cillian murphy

37 notes · View notes