#Tommy knows how to sell himself

[morethanwonderful]

Now I'm normally a big defender of the "Tom really does love Shiv" argument, but god, that scene on Logan's stairs in the last episode might be the single most manipulative thing we've seen Tom do.

Like, his whole thing this episode is that he's trying to ingratiate himself to everyone he can. Logan was his support and Logan is dead, so Tom is hanging out with the suits and trying to throw his hat in the CEO ring. He's going on about "living to serve" them. He's sneaking off to suck up to Roman and Ken. And then there's his scene with Shiv.

And like I said, I'm usually a big defender of Tom's love for Shiv. I think he originally fell in legitimate love with her as much as he was social climbing, and I think that the story he told on the stairs was about something genuine. The past Tom that sent Shiv handwritten letters and asked her constantly to tell him "yes" sure wouldn't have minded getting close to the big boss's daughter, but he also did all that because he loved her.

But on the stairs? When he tells the story? He is still so deeply in "ingratiate myself" mode. He needs someone on his side in Waystar, and the best way to do that would be to make Shiv fall in love with or depend on him again. So he goes to her and pulls out the sweet romance and reminds her of the past. He says "hey, remember when you were going through a hard time and I made it good for you? remember when you fell for me and depended on me for support?" And the unspoken words behind the words are "hey, I see you're going through a hard time now, and I could be all that for you again. Don't you want that?"

He knows she wants the divorce and she's made it pretty clear that things are emotionally over, but he's trying to pull her back in while she's vulnerable.

I doubt Tom sat in a room somewhere and thought the words, "I will take advantage of my wife's emotional vulnerability," but when he went up to her and followed his instincts toward what might make her want to take him back again, that's exactly what he did.

[thepastneverforgets]

bucks takes it upon himself to go outside of his job and directly approach tommy in order to connect and create some sorta scheduled hang out session. and it isn't until eddie suddenly appears and makes it clear that he's already been hanging out and making friends with tommy that buck's jealousy comes along. and rewatching with full episode context now, it totally reads as someone jealous over their bestie hitting it off with their crush better/much sooner than they did. letting it get so far between them that one friend hurts the other over a boy

like eddie is literally just... bro-ing out with a friend who will finally play basketball with him (because his best friend's answer is always an established no) and meanwhile buck's green with envy because he's the one that wanted to shoot his shot with the pilot. eddie off to the side likely killing time during shift talking to his girlfriend on the phone and bucks just "that should be me on the phone laughing at whatever tommy is saying 😡"

[yanderedrabbles]

Yandere Mobster

Chicago - 1931 The Height of Prohibition The mafia is earning top dollar smuggling alcohol into the country. And one mobster has his eye on you.

Yandere! Mobster who's a made man, who drives a nice car even after the stock market crash forced most people to sell theirs.

Yandere! Mobster who wears a tailored suit and fedora, his black hair swept back. Who everyone in the neighbourhood says is a good guy, a decent man, even if he does work for the don.

Yandere! Mobster who pulls up next to you when you're walking home from work. It's late and clouds are scudding across the moon.

Yandere! Mobster who leans out his window and offers to drive you home. Who says these streets ain't safe for a pretty girl like you.

Yandere! Mobster who's known you since you were children. Two kids from immigrant families, playing together in the tiny bits of open space your apartments could offer.

Yandere! Mobster who keeps looking at you and marvelling at how grown up you both are. Where did that scruffy little girl go? And when did you get so pretty?

Yandere! Mobster who spends the whole drive chatting about old times. Who makes you laugh at his stories about running from the landlady and stashing his school books behind the canteen.

Yandere! Mobster who leans over you and pulls the door closed when you move to get out. Who looks you dead in the eye when he asks if you're having trouble with your rent.

The mob is a big part of the community afterall, and he knows just about everything.

You drop your eyes, embarrassed. Your brothers have their own families to care for, you say. Things are hard but if you pick up a few more shifts at the factory, you might manage it.

Yandere! Mobster who sighs and digs in his suit pocket. Who pulls out a stack of cash and counts it right in front you.

Yandere! Mobster who offers you enough for two months of rent. A small fortune to someone from your part of town.

You shake your head, horrified. You can't afford the interest, you tell him.

Yandere! Mobster who scoffs and asks if you really think he's offering a loan when you've known each other for years? It's a gift, to keep your mama out of the cold.

Yandere! Mobster who smiles at the hesitant way you accept the money. You're too proud to ever ask for help and he knows it. Just like when you were kids.

Yandere! Mobster who gets out and opens the car door for you like a gentleman, even if he knows the whole apartment building will talk about it.

Yandere! Mobster who grins that charming, good guy smile even though he has a gun holstered under his jacket and a shovel in the trunk. Who says he'll consider things even if you cook him dinner some time.

Yandere! Mobster who visits your ma while you're at work. Who tells her he's interested in you and wants her blessing. And your ma is all too happy to give it. He's such a good boy, she says, and she knows he's always had a soft spot for you.

Yandere! Mobster who insists on driving you home after work everyday. Even when you blush and complain that he's going out of his way.

Yandere! Mobster who gratefully accepts the gifts you offer him. Fresh baked bread, jars of your mama's famous marinara sauce, homecooked meals... Who eats so much better when you take care of him.

Yandere! Mobster who eventually runs out of luck and straight into trouble. What was supposed to be a routine whiskey delivery turns out to be a sting operation.

Yandere! Mobster who sees his partner get a hole blasted right through him and almost die. Who fires at the cops until his tommy gun is red hot and smoking. Who ends up with so much blood on his hands he ain't sure it will ever wash off.

Yandere! Mobster who finds himself at your door afterwards, his coat drenched by the rain.

Yandere! Mobster who doesn't resist when you pull him inside and strip away his jacket and shirt. There's blood on your hands after you hang up his coat, and you pretend not to notice it.

Yandere! Mobster who can see your curiosity fighting against your sense. In the end, you don't ask him a single question about it.

Yandere! Mobster who sinks gratefully into the bath you draw for him. And who falls asleep the second his head hits your pillow.

Yandere! Mobster who's gone by morning. His bloodstained coat gone with him.

Yandere! Mobster who asks around about you and finds out you've got a whole score of fellas vying for your hand.

Yandere! Mobster who let's it be known that he's interested in you and watches with satisfaction as all your potential suitors drop away.

Except for one. He just spits and says you're a grown woman and can choose your own man.

Yandere! Mobster and his buddies pick the guy up after a late shift. Tie his hands behind his back and gag him before they toss him in the trunk.

Yandere! Mobster who beats the shit out of him. Who breaks his nose with a knuckle duster and his ribs with a crowbar. Who grabs his hair with bloody fingers and hisses that you're off limits.

Yandere! Mobster whose buddies lounge against the warehouse wall and smoke, never bothering to question what a simple dock worker did to deserve such a brutal beating.

Yandere! Mobster who sniffs your hair when you hug him. He's like a dog - always making sure other men haven't left their scent on you.

Yandere! Mobster who let's his hands wander when he takes you out dancing. Who kisses you goodnight and let's his lips brush your neck before he pulls away.

Yandere! Mobster who goes home and jerks off to you, his teeth bared and head bent forward. Who snarls at you to take it, take it like a good girl.

Yandere! Mobster who tells his don about you - how pretty you are, how clever, how discreet. The man leans back in his chair and pulls on his cigar.

She'll never make a liar of you. You should marry her just for that.

Yandere! Mobster who shows up at your door a week later, an engagement ring burning a hole in his pocket.

Be my girl. And I promise I'll take care of you.

You think about the night he came to you covered in blood and not speaking a word. You think about your friend from the docks and the way he dissappeared. You think about the way people look away when you're with him in public.

You say yes, as though you have a choice.

[thepossummoldypasta]

Hidden In The Woods

In the woods around Hawkins there is a van, and in that van lives an Eddie. Not a nasty beat-up van in constant need of repair, nor is it a creepy van that looks like it belongs to a serial killer; It’s Eddie's van and that means comfort. It has a perfectly undented body painted green and a mattress in the back. Or well, he doesn't actually live in the van. It's a nice van sure but Eddie lives in a doublewide trailer with his uncle, not his van–no matter how often they joke about it. 

(and there is a small chance he’s lying when he says it doesn't constantly break down)

He’s heading to his van now actually. 

Eddie longs for the ability to teleport at times like this; he’s trudging through the woods after a particularly fucked drug deal, and all he wants is to be in the back of his beloved shitbox, wrapped in blankets and smoking a joint. 

But Eddie can't magically teleport to the van and he also can’t ban Tommy Hagan from buying his weed–who was a major ass today by the way–because he gets most of his income from the jerk. 

He also can’t park closer to where he deals, which sucks. Eddie knows Hopper looks for his van parked on the side roads, so woods it is. Boo.

It's not that much farther….

And it's a nice day...

Plus the trees are pretty…

Eddie loves fall: the trees light up so magically in the sunbeams like a leafy fire, he sees more gray squirrels dancing about the forest floor this time of year, and Halloween is just awesome. 

This Halloween especially. He led a bitchin’ Halloween one-shot with his new DnD club this year and nothing could sour his mood for almost a week afterward. Even though there was some weird pumpkin blight that year that meant no jack-o-lanterns and the controlled burns in the woods behind Forrest Hills kept him up at night all that month. 

Plus he had a really good fall break so far. 

Okay, maybe things aren't sooooo bad. Trust a walk in nature to clear his head. Now that he’s calmed down Eddie can appreciate how nice everything is. 

Wait.

Eddie definitely didn't leave the back of the van open when he left.

Maybe things are shit and Eddie is an idiot. 

Fuck 

He’s lanky and gangly and has no weapon to defend himself with, but Eddie still creeps closer to the doors. 

Hagan couldn't have gotten here before Eddie, so he’s probably not going to get jumped for selling him overpriced weed. Maybe a really smart, really lucky,  raccoon just so happened to get the door open? More likely Eddie opened the damn thing himself, completely forgot about it, and is now making mountains out of molehills…

He props a hand on the closed door and peeks around it into the dim back. And promptly reels back in shock falling flat on his ass. 

It's a total Occam's Razor moment. The easiest and most simple solution is that the universe hates Eddie Munson. Because that's definitely Steve Harrington in the back of his van. He’s snuggled deep into Eddie’s blankets and smelling distinctly more omega than the last time he saw the guy. But it's Steve alright. 

Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck 

What the fuck is Steve Harrington doing in the back of Eddie’s van? He’s never even had a conversation with the guy!

What do you do in this situation! 

Steve’s obviously nested back there, and if He was completely scentless before the fall break he’s gotta be fresh off his presentation heat, so like hell is Eddie going to go barging in–that's a surefire way to get his face ripped off–but Eddie also needs to get in that van eventually! 

He Raises back up on shaky legs, poking his head fully into the back; and takes another good, hard, look. 

There is still a person in the back of his van. A whole-ass person who wasn't in his van when he left. A person who is without a doubt, Steve. 

A rustle of movement, a quick shifting of blankets, pulls Eddie back to reality. There’s a cute little chirr from the nest followed swiftly by chestnut waves of hair shimming out into the open. Eddie isn't even given time to react before doe-eyes bleary with sleep blink down at him. 

“Eddie!” 

And oh isn't that the sweetest little chirp. Eddie watches in astonishment as the omega wiggles to prop himself up against the back of the driver's seat, chirping adorably all the while.  Eddie can't decide if he’s more mystified by The Prettiest Boy in Hawkins™ cuddled up back there, or That he knows Eddie’s name. 

Now that the omega isn't completely cocooned, Eddie can smell that faintest hint of mint that Steve is throwing into the air paired with heady lavender and it draws him in. Before he even realizes he’s followed his nose and clambered into the back of the van… his van. 

“Hey, sleeping beauty,” Eddie starts slowly. Are you comfy?” It's an innocent enough question. Hopefully, if he plays it casually, Steve won't decide Eddie’s a threat and rend him to dust for being in the poor Omega’s space.  

Steve didn't seem to understand at first cooing a cute, drawn-out  “Hi, Eddie” but eventually he blinked owlishly and replied with a smile “So cozy”. 

“That’s nice sweetheart, but how bout we get you to your nest, hmm?” the alpha tries to suggest. Oh but now Steve looks a bit confused; drawing his brows together and pouting. 

“Nest? ‘M in my nest?” Steve says (well actually he whines it, but Eddie is trying to ignore that lest his heart break). Crap what does he do now?

“I–I know you’re nesting right now, uh–but wouldn’t you be–wouldn't you feel better at home?” Eddie reasons. 

“But there’s no nest there!” Steve whines again “They wont let me have a nest! I wanna stay here” 

“Okay, Okay” Eddie soothes in a hushed voice,” you don't have to go anywhere you don't want to sweetheart” Eddie is in so much trouble. Now that he knows Steve won't be pissed at him for being so close, Eddie’s having a hell of a time not being closer.  

Maybe that wouldn't be a bad thing.  

Eddie coos from a distance until the whines and whimpers peter out and are replaced by soft sleepy snuffles. 

“How did you even get here, big boy?” Eddie questions. The thought has been plaguing him, what happened while he was away?

“I was taking a walk” Steve starts, he lays his head down and his eyes flutter closed before he continues. “I needed to get away and I went into the woods. I got turned around but you saved me.”

“I saved you?” How the hell did he do that? 

“Mmm hmmm, I smelled ya” Steve hums” smelled so good so I followed.” ok, even more confused now. Eddie has an…unconventional scent–basil and tobacco leaf–he can't imagine someone trekking through the woods to find something that smells like pasta sauce and cigarettes. And how long was Steve lost in the woods, how long was he wandering, cold and alone, with only a scent trail for comfort. 

“Hey, Eddie?” 

“Uh yes?” Eddie focuses back on reality, ready to face whatever he’s about to be asked.

“If I’m sleeping beauty, why didn't you wake me with a kiss?” nope not ready for that. 

“Would you? Uh Do–did you want me to?” Steve nods against the soft blanket pillowed underneath him.  

Oh. 

Eddie feels his resolve crack and threatens to shatter. He can't take advantage of Steve when he’s so vulnerable. Is he vulnerable? Steve isn't still in heat, his mind is sound. But he is upset.  Best to leave it be for now. 

“Do you still want me to kiss you?” 

Dang it.

Steve shoots up–ramrod-like–to nod ecstatically. Eddie's resolve shatters.  Absolutely not helped by Steve’s little please, please, pleases. 

“Okay” 

It's not like there's anyone around to judge him.

It’s like the movies, the way they lean in close and steal each other's breath. Steve tastes like honeyed sunshine. It sweetens the omega’s lavender-mint tea smell in a way that Eddie knows he’ll crave till the day he gets buried six feet under.  Eddie can't tell where he ends and his darling omega begins, drawn so close together that their purrs rattle in both chests. 

Only the lack of oxygen drives them apart, though Eddie tries to fight it. 

“I’ll do better next time princess” the alpha rumbles with care. 

They seal the deal with another perfect kiss. 

Hell yeah.

================================================

based on this post Special thanks to @starshideurfics for inspiring me to have Eddie call Steve sleeping beauty like a SIMP

[fifthnailinstevesbat]

thinking of a new steddie fic/au hmmm.

It’s just the classic, Steve buys weed from Eddie in season 1 era, he and Tommy meet him at the bench in the woods behind school. Steve and Eddie have some playful banter and clearly get along, but it’s dismissed as just a drug deal and they go on about their lives.

Next time they meet is when a frantic Steve comes and finds Eddie after he’s just fought off the demogorgon for the first time. He’s rattled, and skittish, wearing a nasty black bruise on his eye, and just overall not acting like himself. He snaps at Eddie multiple times to just ‘hurry up’ and ‘get him his stuff’, and sure he’s being an asshole, but more than anything Eddie is just concerned. He has never seen The King Steve Harrington lose his cool like this. So Eddie cautiously gives him the weed, making sure not to give too much, and lets him go about his day, but not before asking if he’s alright. Steve clearly wasn’t expecting this and brushes it off defensively, but that doesn’t mean he’s not thinking about it for the rest of his week. How the hell did Eddie Munson notice something was wrong, when his own parents didn’t? Nor his “friends”?

They cross paths again a year later, the beginning of season two. Steve is still with Nancy and has freshly dumped his old douchebag crew of superficial friends. He is still sitting quite comfortably on the higher ranks of popularity, but there is no denying his status is not what it used to be. He comes to buy weed from Eddie in the first week back at school, and it’s a casual interaction. He’s still as charmingly stuck up as he ever was, but now without Tommy there to judge his every move, he seems a little more at ease when making casual conversation with Eddie. Eddie doesn’t mention the year before and Steve is so glad for it, secretly very embarrassed that he went to Eddie for some refuge after arguably his most traumatic experience to date. He gets his stuff, giving Eddie a smirk when he notices he’s dropped the price significantly for Steve when it’s just him alone. Eddie gives him a challenging smile back, almost daring him to call it out, but he doesn’t. They both just laugh and part ways.

The next run in is tina’s halloween party. They notice eachother when Steve first arrives, making eye contact and giving a polite nod. Maybe Eddie lifts his drink up to Steve in a silly salute. They don’t speak at all or make any effort to hang around eachother. That is, until Steve storms down the stairs in a rage after he’d gone up there with Nancy Wheeler. But then are those- tears? Eddie was standing on the front porch smoking a cigarette, trying to discreetly hide from one Billy Hargrove to avoid having to sell him anything, but staying visible enough that he won’t lose all chances of making any money tonight. Steve storms right past him and hits his shoulder. Eddie whips around and is about to call him a dick before he sees who it is.

Steve tries to quickly wipe his face, he won’t make eye contact with Eddie, and he’s clearly trying to get out as fast as he can. Eddie doesn’t let him, though, since he’s obviously not thinking very clearly and is most likely about to do something emotional and stupid. He asks if Steve’s alright, and his answers are all short and rushed, so he’s definitely not. They’re not really friends, but Eddie’s not an asshole.

— “Did you drive?” Eddie asks

“Yeah”

“Well, you’re drunk, Steve. You can’t get behind a wheel right now. And if I knowingly let you, then that makes me an accomplice. I’ll take you home.”

Steve tries to protest, attempting to push past him, but Eddie interjects. “Yeah, yeah, alright! Don’t thank me yet, Steve’o. This is not for you, see, I’m not trying to get a criminal record, here. I cant go to prison, Steve. Do you know what they’d do to a pretty guy like me in prison? Nope, let’s go hot stuff.” —

Eddie takes Steve home. They don’t talk much. By the time they reach Steve’s drive way and Eddie has put his van in park, Steve is making no attempt to exit the vehicle just yet. Eddie doesn’t know what to do, he didn’t really plan this far, so he’s just tapping away awkwardly at his steering wheel while Harrington stares down the dashboard so clearly lost in thought Eddie fears his head might explode. Steve tells Eddie what happened, says it’s ‘relationship troubles’, and he’s not quite sure what compelled him into being so honest with Eddie Munson, but he’s blaming the alcohol. Eddie wasn’t expecting that. They chat for a bit, Eddie makes Steve laugh and considers the whole night a success after that. Then they start cracking jokes about their shared hatred for Hargrove, and Steve looks and sounds a bit more ok to go inside. He thanks Eddie, quite sincerely actually, and it throws him a bit. He stutters a ‘yeah, for sure. It’s no problem.’ And Steve goes home.

After that, it’s a little different. Steve, doesn’t actually really have anyone, anymore. When they go back to school he’s now greeting Eddie here and there in the hallways, making conversation when they find themselves alone together, in the lunch line or at the bathroom sink. He doesn’t approach Eddie when there’s too many people around, though. As much as he’s grown, Steve Harrington still carry’s some prejudice in him about how certain things may make him look. But it doesn’t bother Eddie too much. It’s not like they are really friends, they’re just like, strange acquaintances. And Steve would never deny that they get along, that really Eddie’s ‘not so bad’. So that’s a win.

Steve finds Eddie again not long after the party to buy some more weed, a plan that sparked purely out of boredom. Eddie says yes, of course, but tells him if he wants it today he will need to wait till after school and meet Eddie at his place, since he was busy. So Steve takes a trip to the Munson trailer to make his deal. Eddie invites him inside and they sit together on the couch as he gets Steve’s bag ready. They end up making quite pleasant conversation, joking around and ultimately finding they are really enjoying each other’s company. They enjoy it so much so, that Steve ends up smoking there, with Eddie. So now they are kind of like, hanging out? And it’s fun, so they do it again. Still they’re not, friends friends, they just get along. Eddie just sells Steve weed sometimes and they keep it civil.

He doesn’t hear from Steve for a while, and the next time he sees him it’s from a distance, in passing. The man has the most roughed up face Eddie has ever seen, bruised and swollen in multiple areas, stitches and bandages all over. It’s really, concerning? completely metal, but alarming. This is the second time Eddie has seen the guy all beaten up like that. He knew that boys fight, but surely not that bad? As worried as he was, Eddie doesn’t approach him to ask questions, because they don’t know eachother like that. So he goes on about his day, and he doesn’t see Steve again after that for quite some time.

Then it’s summer, Eddie isn’t graduating again, and he’s not really sure what to do with himself over the break. The new mall has just opened up, and there’s a cool music store up on the second floor that he likes to visit sometimes with his band friends. And wouldn’t you know, working at the Scoops Ahoy located directly across from his favourite store, is Steve Harrington. The guy hasn’t come to Eddie for any weed since last year, and then there was that sighting where he looked like he’d just fallen face first into a flying fist or two, so it’s been a minute since Eddie’s seen him. And he’d be lying if he said it wasn’t a nice surprise. He only goes into scoops once. He’s curious, okay? Sue him. And, he knows the girl who works with him, Robin. So he plays it off like he had no idea he’d see Steve there. And to his surprise, Steve actually acknowledges him. He doesn’t act like Eddie is a total stranger just because they’re not in school anymore. The interaction is quick, they make very casual conversation, Eddie says hi to Robin, grabs his milkshake and goes home. That’s all. He doesn’t go back, and he doesn’t really plan to. Steve’s nice, and he knows Eddie’s around if he needs to buy from him again, and that’s really as far as their relationship goes. That’s all it ever was. It’s been fun getting to know Steve Harrington a little bit better, even if it was just for a short time. Eddie liked having the chance to see in past the quaffed hair and pressed polo shirts to learn that Steve was really just a person under it all. He never thought he’d say it, but Harrington wasn’t so bad. It was a nice little eye opening experience for Eddie.

Eddie was ready to write off his little blips of interaction with Steve Harrington as a thing of the past, no hard feelings, and move on with his life. That is, until he gets a knock at his front door in the middle of the night afew days after the big mall fire. And it’s Steve on the other side. And he looks awful, his face is the worst Eddie’s ever seen it. And he wasn’t really knocking, more like pounding. He says he needs Eddie’s help.

What the fuck?

[theladycarpathia]

I've seen too much stuff about Clipboard Buck and Tommy lately to not write this.

His boyfriend on a power trip should not be hot. 

“See,” Chim mutters under his breath, leaning over the rail to watch Buck down below. “I warned you.”

“So you did,” Tommy agrees, keeping his true thoughts to himself. Buck has the clipboard clenched in one hand, pen in the other, and directs a reluctant Hen and Eddie as they perform checks on the ambulance and the ladder. 

“He’s a menace,” Chim continues, with feeling. “He’s a dictator!”

“Uh huh,” Tommy says, watching the furrow in Buck’s forehead as he makes another tick. He gestures furiously towards something in one of the ladder’s compartments and Eddie puts down the jaws to argue back. 

“We keep hiding the clipboards,” Chim says darkly. “I don’t know where he keeps finding them all.”

“Unfortunately for you, I think that’s something they sell at most major retailers,” Tommy quips and rests his arms on the railing. 

He’s worked under power-crazed maniacs. He was in the army, and then he had Captain Gerrard. His own father was one fully for his way or the highway. 

Buck being like this should not be hot. And yet all Tommy can think about is lying naked on the bed while Buck does things to him from a very meticulous and organized list. 

Eddie makes an obscene gesture behind Buck’s back and Tommy smirks. 

“And this is Buck on a regular Tuesday,” Chim says and pops his gum. “Wait until you see Buck in an emergency or organize an event. It’s a good thing you stopped by. You need to know these kinds of things about a person before you get serious.”

“I’m glad to see you too, Chim,” Tommy says, although stopping to chat to Chimney hadn’t been on his agenda for today. He and Buck have had conflicting shifts lately, and they’ve barely seen each other. Texts and a few brief phone calls have been all they’ve had to get them by and Tommy finally had enough of it. Bobby doesn’t mind Tommy swinging by the firehouse and seeing Buck if they’re not on a call. And today is apparently so quiet that Buck has time to do a thorough inspection of the vehicles. 

“Are you?” Chim asks suddenly, twisting towards Tommy with a surprisingly calculating look. “Getting serious?”

Tommy just shrugs. He knows the answer, he’s just not entirely willing to discuss it yet. But it’s been long enough now that they keep toothbrushes and few essentials at each other’s houses, that they have evenings where they sprawl together in front of the TV, just happy to be together. Tommy knows about his sister, the loss of Daniel, the myth of Abby and has even read Taylor Kelly’s book. 

Which he did in bed, reading several segments out loud, much to Buck’s horror and embarrassment. 

“You seem to be,” Chim comments, and down below Hen throws a roll of surgical tape at Buck. “Not that I’m complaining. We like you, Buck likes you, you flew us into a hurricane…”

“I like him too,” Tommy says, because honestly he’s been smitten since Buck came up with that stupid motto back in the helicopter. “Funny to think that Evan and I never met before as he only got to join the 118 because I left.”

“You got there in the end,” Chim says. “I mean this as nicely as possible but you leaving worked out great for me. If you hadn’t left, there wouldn’t have been a space to fill. If Buck hadn’t joined us…”

“Then you would never have met Maddie when she came to LA,” Tommy says, understanding instantly. Funny how something that simple has changed so many lives. He doesn’t regret moving to Harbor, even with the closeness that the 118 has now. He wouldn’t be who he is otherwise, without that space to accept himself. If he didn’t have that, maybe he wouldn’t be the person brave enough to kiss Buck. “I get it.”

“Although,” Chim continues, still watching Buck down below. “We wouldn’t have the Clipboard Dictator if you had stayed…”

“You love it really,” Tommy says, because he knows Chim loves Buck. But then Buck’s eyes swing upwards, towards the first floor and the two of them. 

“Oh shit,” Chimney hisses and then ducks below the railing. It doesn’t work because Buck just shouts “Chim, it’s glass! I can see you!”

“That wasn’t your best idea,” Tommy says and then offers Chimney a hand. “Come on. I’ll go down with you. Maybe I can make the tyrant a little bit sweeter.”

Chimney doesn’t look soothed by this. 

“Hello, Chimney,” Hen says pointedly, sitting on the back of the ambulance. “Nice to see you. How funny you happened to be hiding in the bathroom when Buck gets his clipboard out.”

“I wasn’t hiding,” Chimney mutters, eying Buck’s clipboard with apprehension. “Kinard, save me.”

“Evan,” Tommy says, snagging his boyfriend’s free wrist with one hand. “I came by to see you. Maybe we give the workforce a five minute break?”

Buck frowns down at his list. “I wanted to finish this before Bobby was done with his paperwork,” he says before looking suspiciously at his friends. “And if they leave, I don’t think they’ll come back.”

“Damn straight,” Eddie says under his breath. Hen just looks innocent, although Tommy is pretty sure they’re about to see three empty firefighter shaped spaces. 

“Just ten minutes,” Tommy cajoles, stroking the soft part of Buck’s wrist with his thumb. “I haven’t seen you all week.” He drops his voice down for the next part, hoping that Buck is as desperate to see him. “I’ll make it worth your while.”

Buck practically throws the clipboard at Eddie. 

“Taking a break!” he says cheerfully, half dragging Tommy behind the engine. “Be back in ten or I will hunt you down.”

“Will he do it with a chainsaw, I wonder?” Hen has time to ask (Tommy feels as though he should follow up on this later), before all three of them vanish. Tommy doesn’t see because he’s pressing his boyfriend up against the gleaming red of the engine and kissing the breath out of him. 

“What can we do in ten minutes?” Buck asks, eyes glittering, running his hands up and down Tommy’s chest. 

“Probably not a lot, as we’re in the open, in a firehouse, during your workday,” Tommy admits begrudgingly. A week is a very long time. Buck’s salacious texts and suggestive selfies haven’t been enough. “But we have time off in two days and I want to spend every second with you.”

“Good,” Buck says and the next few minutes pass very quickly. Buck tastes of coffee and he keeps both hands planted on Tommy’s rear - if he keeps squeezing like that, Tommy is going to have difficulty walking out of here. 

“I think we order takeout and movies and don’t leave the house for twenty-four hours,” Tommy suggests, just as Buck licks the shell of his ear. Fuck. This kid will be the death of him. 

“Fine by me,” Buck says and pulls him in for one last kiss. “But I really should get back to work. Call you when I’m off?”

There’s such obvious suggestion in his voice that want searches in Tommy’s gut almost instantly. He pushes it down and strokes Buck’s rather red jaw. 

“Can’t wait,” he says. “And Evan? Go easy on your friends.”

But the others are waiting for them, standing in a line by the stairs, obvious glee written all over their faces. Eddie is holding Buck’s clipboard and Tommy deftly removes it from his grasp. 

“Why, Mr Buckley,” Hen says, looking them up and down with a smirk. “That’s not a proper use of company time.”

“Ha ha,” Buck says mutinously, and with far more confidence than someone wearing a ridiculous amount of beard burn should have. “We have a lot to do. Where’s the…?”

Tommy hastily recaps the pen and hands it back to Buck, as though nothing is changed. He’d feel bad about it if it was an official document. But as it was Buck’s handwritten list of chores, he thinks the others might get some amusement out of it. 

He kisses Buck on the cheek and waves goodbye, quickly ducking out of the firehouse before Buck notices. 

“Who vandalized my list?” Buck shrieks indignantly and Tommy just skips all the way back to his truck.

[steddieas-shegoes]

He’s not sure why he even comes to these parties anymore. He used to sell at the frat houses, made his rounds until he was out of product, made more money than any minimum wage job he could find near campus.

But he hasn’t in a while. Months, at this point.

It’s just that every time he came to one of these idiotic showing of riches and popularity, the most beautiful man he’d ever seen was sitting in the corner of the kitchen watching with a faraway look in his eyes. Sometimes he stood in a group of people in the living room, but never contributed to the conversation. Once, Eddie saw him swinging his feet back and forth in the water of the hot tub on the back patio with three different couples making out inside it, completely zoned out.

Eddie needs to keep an eye on him. Hence, he attends the stupid parties.

And it’s stupid, to go through so much trouble for a guy he doesn’t even know, who probably doesn’t even notice him back. It’s stupid, but Eddie’s never claimed to be very bright.

Which is probably why he walks up to the guy when he’s about two seconds from punching Tommy Hagan, grabs his wrists, and tugs.

“The fuck are you?” He asks Eddie, reasonably confused and angry at being interrupted by a stranger.

Eddie could feel his pulse against his fingers, swore he could feel a spark of electricity flow between them.

“Eddie. Just leave him. Whatever he did isn’t worth it,” he said through clenched teeth.

His fingers tightened around Steve’s wrists as he considered trying to pick him up, throw him over his shoulder, and walk out of this party entirely.

“How the hell do you know?” Steve wasn’t trying to pull away.

Eddie didn’t let himself think about that too much.

“I just know nothing Hagan does is ever worth trouble for you. C’mon,” Eddie tugged on his wrists again, and this time, it seemed to catch the guy off guard.

“Didn’t know you were into freaks, Harrington,” Tommy said as they took a few steps away from him. “If you’re gonna be gay, you could at least have taste.”

Eddie froze.

The guy, Harrington, tried to pull his wrists loose, but Eddie didn’t let him.

He turned to Tommy, the guy who almost got him arrested for selling at his party only a few months ago, and smirked.

If he was gonna out someone to a stranger, Eddie had no problem doing the same right now.

“And you just sucked my dick because you wanted to add it to your résumé?” Eddie grinned at Tommy, who quickly looked around to make sure no one else heard.

“As if I would-“ he tried to say, but Harrington cut him off.

“You forget you say shit when you’re high. You told me about it already. I think your exact words were, ‘he had the best dick I’ve ever seen, Steve.’ Or am I mixing that up with another dick?” Steve pulled one arm loose from Eddie’s grip, brushed hair from his face, and let it relax at his side.

Eddie could let go now, he was sure if anyone would start something at this point it would be Tommy. But Steve wasn’t trying to pull his other wrist loose and Eddie liked the warmth of him in his hand.

“Whatever man, just go. You don’t even wanna be here,” Tommy turned and left before Steve could respond.

Eddie finally let go, but he didn’t like the immediate sense of loss that filled his chest.

“You always interrupt strangers before they fight?” Steve asked him, hands shoved into his pockets.

Eddie really looked at him, inspected him. He only ever saw him at these parties, so the lighting was shit, but he’d noticed the dark shadows under his eyes a while ago. He noticed that he held himself in a way that showed he was always ready for a fight. Steve’s hair had gone flat over the last month or so, not nearly as voluminous or shiny as it had been at the start of the year.

“Are you okay?” He asked instead of answering the question.

“I’m fine, dude.”

Eddie shook his head. “You don’t seem okay.”

“Then why did you ask?”

“Just seems like something is bothering you,” Eddie wouldn’t push more, not if Steve was actually gonna get mad. But something told him that nobody pushed Steve to talk enough.

Eddie had Wayne back home, and his friends in his band here, and a couple coworkers at the bar he worked at twice a week now that he could joke around with. Steve didn’t even seem to have the people he hung around with.

“Why does it matter to you if something is bothering me?”

That’s a fair question. Why does it matter to him?

“Maybe because I just wanted to help. That’s what people do, right?”

“Not for me, usually.”

Eddie stepped closer, barely leaving space between them. “Well, I am.”

Steve stared back at him, shoulders dropping and eyes losing that angry fire.

“Why?”

Eddie was an idiot sometimes, but he was able to read people pretty well. It’s what kept him safe for most of middle and high school, and made him friends in college.

He knew what it looked like to be lonely and depressed, and Steve had check marks next to both of those.

“You wanna get out of here?” Eddie asked, once again avoiding his question.

“And go where?”

“I’ll show you my favorite getting high spot.”

“I don’t really smoke with strangers,” Steve seemed nervous.

“You don’t have to smoke. I’m just gonna show you the place.”

He watched Steve think about it, noting the way his brows scrunched together, how he bit his bottom lip, how he looked at the ground instead of at Eddie.

“Fine. But if you murder me in the woods, my mom will have you hanged,” Steve finally said.

“Hanged? Do they even do that anymore?”

Steve giggled. “Probably not. But she’d find a way.”

“Well, I’ve got no interest in murdering you, big boy.”

The blush that filled Steve’s cheeks was stunning. A perfect pink dusting his skin, giving him a healthier glow than what he’d had for a while.

“What do you have interest in?”

Eddie could say any number of things to flirt, make his true intentions clear, maybe even go straight back to his single dorm instead of showing Steve anywhere.

But Eddie figured that’s all Steve was used to, or maybe he was always the one who had to put an effort into things.

Maybe he wasn’t used to getting treated like a human being.

“I’d like to get to know you. Parties like this aren’t really a good place to learn about someone’s favorite song or what they snack on when they wake up in the middle of the night.”

Steve seemed shocked by this answer, but his features quickly melted into a soft smile, one Eddie would want to see every single day.

“Fine. But it’s not a date,” Steve held out his hand, ready to be led.

Instead of lacing his fingers with Steve’s, or even just grabbing his hand in his palm, he wrapped his fingers around Steve’s wrist again.

“We’ll see.”

———

On graduation day, Steve and Eddie found their way back to their spot, one they’d probably never visit again.

Eddie’s fingers were curled around Steve’s wrist as they stood facing each other, close enough to feel each other’s breaths against their lips.

Nearly two years together, nearly 300 trips to this spot, and more than 500 dates that they never called dates.

And it was just the beginning.

Eddie leaned in to press his lips to Steve’s gently, keeping it soft so they wouldn’t get carried away.

They had to meet Wayne at the Italian restaurant in less than an hour and then Steve’s mom expected them back at Steve’s apartment for a wine and dessert celebration.

They wouldn’t be properly alone like this again for at least a couple days, but they didn’t have time to do much about it right now.

“I love you,” Eddie whispered as he rested his forehead against Steve’s.

“I love you, too,” Steve said back.

He didn’t have dark shadows under his eyes anymore, spending more nights sleeping in bed with Eddie than awake at parties he didn’t want to be at. His hair had most of its shine back. He’d put on a few pounds after joining the gym again, using it as an outlet for stress instead of hiding in corners at parties where he would drink just enough to get buzzed four times a week.

He made friends with Eddie’s friends, plus some of his own when he got a part time job at the coffee shop on campus.

Steve never spoke to Tommy again, at least as far as Eddie knew. He didn’t seem interested in being his friend again, and once he told Eddie more about their “friendship”, he couldn���t really blame him.

“You ready to go see Wayne?” Steve asked him, probably more excited than even Eddie was.

Wayne and Steve bonded quickly and they’d probably spend most of the lunch talking about sports and where they would go fishing this summer.

Eddie nodded, but he pulled something from his pocket before Steve could pull away and start walking back to the car they now shared.

“What’s that?” Steve asked, pointing towards the envelope in Eddie’s hand.

“It’s a gift from me to you. Well, I guess both of us, but I really got it for you.”

He handed it to Steve, who opened it quickly.

He pulled out the paper inside and Eddie watched his eyes fly across the words written there.

“Eddie.”

“Stevie.”

“You got us a trip to Italy? How the fuck did you get us a trip to Italy?” Steve was looking at him, eyes wet with tears.

“Doesn’t matter how. Wayne gave us some money for it, so did your mom. I’ve been saving for a year. Want us to have something special before we have to start working.” Eddie kissed his forehead. “Plus I want any excuse to see you in some of those see-through linen shorts.”

Steve’s lips were on his, his arms wrapped around Eddie’s neck. Eddie wrapped his arms around his waist to hold him there.

“I’ll wear them every day,” he gasped as he leaned in for another kiss.

Eddie laughed. “You won’t hear any complaints from me, sugar.”

“I can’t believe you did this. All I got you was a t-shirt.”

“You know I love t-shirts. I know you love Italy. It’s a win-win for both of us.”

Steve rolled his eyes, but kissed him again.

His eyes widened. “Oh my god. Are you gonna propose in Italy?”

Eddie snorted. “Why would I answer that question?”

“Because! I have to know!”

“Why?”

“So I can make sure I have a nice outfit for pictures, dumbass.”

“You’ll just have to wait and see. You look good in everything,” Eddie kissed the top of his head before he wrapped his fingers around Steve’s wrist and tugged on it once. “Let’s get to Wayne before he sends a search party.”

Eddie smiled to himself as they walked to the car, Steve’s rambling about what he wanted to do in Italy keeping his mind from wandering too far. He couldn’t help thinking about the ring he had stashed away in his guitar case, though.

Italy was the perfect place to propose.

[hippolotamus]

I’m thinking about how Tommy just visibly relaxes when Buck assures him the kiss was ok. How he got all flirty and ‘came in a car today so I actually have to worry about traffic’. The whole finger guns and Call Eddie thing with his adorable nose scrunch.

So cut to the moment he closes the door and is standing in the hallway (while Buck is all smiley faced/shocked Pikachu just inside). I just imagine Tommy sagging against the wall and like letting his head fall back and his eyes close. And he’s thinking to himself *holy fuck. that’s a Thing that just happened. I just kissed that beautiful guy.* And maybe he makes this hysterical little breathy laugh about that because the whole thing could have gone massively sideways. He could have ruined things with Eddie’s Best Friend and Chris’s idol.

He takes the steps 2 at a time down to his car because he has this extra spring in his step and feels lighter than air and life is Good™️ Even shitty crosstown traffic isn’t enough to sour his mood. When he gets to Harbor, Lucy and his team tease him, asking if he got lucky before shift and he just rolls with it, ignoring them pressing for details.

Later, after a few calls and they have a little downtime, it finally really hits him. He decided to shoot his shot and he kissed Evan.

Now, Tommy is an experienced guy and this isn’t exactly new territory. But. Tommy of 10+ years ago… Tommy working under Gerrard and the macho bravado BS of the LAFD, Tommy who had to listen to all the horrible ignorant comments when DOMA was passed, Tommy who didn’t know yet what Right was supposed to feel like and didn’t get what all those RomComs were trying to sell — he’s proud of himself. Because he didn’t think this would ever happen. He didn’t think this — living open and free and loving how he wanted — was even a possibility for him. But it is. It’s his life and he gets to have it. He huffs out a wet chuckle, glad no one’s really paying attention to his epiphany.

And jfc he can’t fucking wait until Saturday.

[hllywdwhre]

Long Time Coming

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x fem!reader

Summary: When each of the family members noticed you and Tommy falling for each other

Warnings: arranged marriage, mentions of heroin (talks about how Tommy used it and the Chinese selling it - nothing graphic, only mentions), let me know if I missed any!

Word Count: 1.7K

Notes: THANK YOU for all the love on Revenge! After many comments and requests asking for more of the pairing, I decided to delve deeper into the development of Tommy and her’s relationship. Up next is moments reader and Tommy fell for each other!

Can technically be read as a stand-alone, but is meant to pair with this Tommy fic I wrote.

Polly

Polly was the second to catch on. She knows her nephew far too well to not notice the small changes. Grace’s death changed something deep inside of Tommy and she didn’t think she’d ever see the day when Tommy, not only fell in love but allowed himself to love again.

Then you came along.

He started smiling more and drinking less. You got him to stop using dope to self-medicate. He also didn’t look nearly as tired.

She always said Tommy had his mother’s smile when he truly smiled, and it had been a long time since Polly had seen her sister’s smile on his face. You made a sarcastic comment in the private booth at The Garrison once though and there it was.

She noticed you falling for him when you came to her with way too much anxiety over an innocent, and adorable, request.

You were picking at your nails as you sat on her sofa while she lit a candle in her living room,

“Tommy mentioned you were the only one who had ever been able to replicate his mother’s raspberry tart recipe. I was wondering if there was any way you could teach me to make them?”

Polly froze for a moment, surprised at the request given your anxious state. It was then that she realized why you were so nervous. Even if you hadn’t realized it, you were falling for Tommy.

You two spent the rest of the day in her kitchen perfecting the recipe.

Arthur

Arthur, bless him, can be pretty blind when it comes to romance. Like. Really blind. Lust? He can spot it a mile away. Hell, he was the first to notice that you and Tommy were sleeping together. But love? Gods help him.

It took until you killed Sabini for him to notice the two of you were in love.

The next day neither you nor Tommy wanted to leave your bed, but an emergency family meeting with the Shelbys and your father had been called because of your actions.

When you told everyone what you had done, Arthur was the first to break the shocked silence.

“Why the bloody ‘ell would you ‘ave done that?” He’d shouted in a mix of shock and anger.

“He’s been intimidating my father and me for over a year now, and then yesterday I learned what he had done to you lot… My anger got the best of me and I was tired of him,” you’d replied with a deep crimson blush spreading across your face.

The rest of the family and your father wore knowing smirks at your explanation, but you could see the moment it all clicked in Arthur’s eyes. His smirk spread across his face and his tone went from shocked and angry, to proud.

“Well, love, remind me not to piss you off.”

John

Since he’d had an arranged marriage of his own, John knew better than most what you and Tommy were going through. In a rare moment of vulnerability, Tommy had actually come to John for advice before the wedding on how to help things go more smoothly and make sure that you were comfortable.

After a couple of months of being married, John had gotten Tommy alone and checked in on how he and you were doing. It was when Tommy had seemed surprised that things were going so well that John noticed his brother was becoming fond of you. He didn’t question Tommy on how he felt, he knew better than to think his brother would spill his heart to him, but he could see that Tommy felt something for you.

Esme & Ada

Once again, since Esme’s own marriage into the Shelby family was an arranged one, she went out of her way to make you feel included and make sure you knew that she was an open, non-judgmental, and private ear you could turn to.

Ada walked in on you and Esme having a more vulnerable conversation when you were first married and you and Esme both immediately changed the topic. When Ada later asked Esme in private what the two of you had been discussing, Esme answered as honestly as she could without giving away details.

”I know what she’s going through, to an extent. I got lucky with how quickly I was accepted since John and I immediately clicked. Not to mention the way I saw every inch of you on our wedding night,” Esme said, both her and Ada laughing lightly at the memory of Esme not seeing her own husband naked on their wedding night, but instead his sister as she gave birth to Karl.

After that, Ada made sure to include you in any shopping trips she went on and opened her house in London to you in case you ever needed to get away.

”I know how my brother is. He can be a right twat when he wants to be. Just let me know if you ever need an escape. We’ll call it a girl’s night.”

The two women noticed you falling for Tommy when you were included in one of the shopping trips and they asked how things were going. You’d tried to brush the question off far too quickly, and when they couldn’t pry out of you that anything bad had happened, they quickly pieced together that you were catching feelings.

Michael

Michael noticed as Tommy’s jealousy and protectiveness over you grew. The Shelby family knew you were capable of handling your own, but that didn’t mean Tommy wasn’t going to be protective. Especially after Grace.

Michael watched the way Tommy went from simply glaring at any men who tried flirting with you, to approaching the men and wrapping his arm around you while questioning whatever unfortunate man had angered him if "he had spotted the ring on your finger and was simply stupid, or if he was blind."

Jealousy was what gave it away for Michael.

Finn

Finn noticed after a particularly dangerous job involving you didn’t go according to plan. You and Finn were the only two who wouldn’t be immediately recognized, so it was up to you two to find out if the Chinese had been selling heroin even after Tommy had threatened them with a bomb.

The two of you had been separated and you hadn’t returned yet when Finn made his way to the betting shop where everyone was waiting.

Tommy’s rage when Finn dared show up without you was something Finn never wanted to be on the receiving end of again.

Charlie

Charlie was the first to notice. Granted he didn’t realize what he was seeing, but he had noticed.

You had convinced Tommy to build a stable at The Arrow House. He, Charlie, and you all loved horses, and it would be a fun way for you and Charlie to bond.

Tommy was away on business and you and Charlie had decided to take the horses for a ride. Charlie sat in front of you and you were letting him guide the horse as he hammered you with various questions about the world.

“Why do horses eat grass? Where do horses come from? Why can’t they eat human food?”

It was during this conversation that he pointed out that Tommy liked you.

“When will Daddy be back?” Charlie asked you.

“In two more days. He’s handling some business in London,” you answered easily.

“I miss him,” he said wistfully.

“I’m sure he misses you, too,” you reassured, “but he has to work so we can have our house and horses,” you told him, hoping to comfort the child some more.

“Do you miss him?” Charlie questioned, turning his head to look up at you.

“I do,” you answered easily. It wasn’t a lie.

By this point, you had grown to care for Tommy. You thought it was only as a friend and nothing more, but Charlie seemed to notice it was something different. You and Tommy didn’t feel the need to explain to Charlie what an arranged marriage was. The two of you had talked about how you were going to explain your marriage to Charlie, and you had both come up with a way to explain it to him without potentially causing any insecurities in the child or exposing him to what an arranged marriage was. It was a delicate balance of lies and truth, but neither of you wanted to tell Charlie “Well, sometimes marriage isn’t love, it’s business.” He was going to deal with enough at the truth of his mother’s death, and neither of you felt it was necessary to add a potential insecurity about whether the new mother figure in his life actually cared for him.

“He misses you, too,” Charlie said, breaking you out of your thoughts.

Your eyebrows furrowed together and you looked down at him,

“I’d hope so since we’re married, but what makes you say that?” You were still walking that delicate line of truth and lies, but his comment had piqued your interest.

“He watches you a lot and smiles a lot.”

His simple explanation could easily be explained away and you explained it away internally, but Charlie had noticed what you and Tommy hadn’t noticed yet.

Alfie

Alfie and you had always had a cheeky and joking relationship. You got on like old school friends more than sometimes-ally-sometimes-pain-in-the-ass.

However, when Tommy and you came to him to see if you could rally his support in the inevitable war that was going to break out with Sabini’s men, he noticed the dynamic had changed. Typically meetings with Alfie were tense with the atmosphere only broken by your sarcastic comments and Alfie’s borderline flirting with you.

Alfie was taken aback when you shot down his flirting and Tommy sent a glare his way.

He recovered quickly though and soon went on to teasing the two of you about your “newfound happiness”.

”Was wondering when the two of you were going to pull your heads out of your asses and smell the roses.”

[beefcakekinard]

Oooh, what about BuckTommy and Missing Them from the intimacy prompt list 👀

40. missing them

"I miss you," Buck murmurs, quiet in the barren cavern of his hotel room. It's fine - nice, even - but the impersonality of the beige walls and stark white linens only serve to remind him that he isn't where he wants to be. On the other end of the line, Tommy hums softly, and Buck can hear the rustle of his sheets.

"I miss you too," Tommy says. Buck presses his phone tight against his ear - holding Tommy's voice as close as he can. "We've already gotten through one week, we can do one more."

Buck sighs. When he'd signed up for this workshop eight months ago, he'd been single, and two weeks of union-paid travel to Pasadena had seemed like fun.

"You're in bed?" he asks. He stares up at the popcorn ceiling from on top of his king-size hotel bed and tries to ignore the drag of loneliness through the centre of his chest.

"Yeah, finally. Feels like I barely got to sit down all day."

Buck licks his lips. "What are you wearing?"

"Seriously?" Tommy laughs and Buck closes his eyes to better picture the smile he knows is scrunched into Tommy's face. He can't help smiling in return at the thought.

"Well," he says, dragging the word out, "I have missed you..."

Tommy laughs again. "Or certain parts of me, it sounds like."

"Hey, don't sell yourself short. It just so happens that I miss many parts of you."

They giggle together for a moment - and in that bubble, it's almost like Tommy's right there beside him.

"How about this," Tommy says after a beat of silence. "You tell me what you're wearing, and we'll go from there." He drops his voice a little as he flirts and Buck's body responds automatically, his dick giving an interested twitch in his shorts.

"I'm wearing boxers, and- and your sweater," Buck says. Tommy's next exhale is heavy.

"Which one?"

"It's a grey zip-up."

"Hmm." Just that noise from Tommy's throat makes Buck squirm in place, his dick filling out as he thinks about how Tommy's imagining him. "Unzip it."

Buck complies. As he loses the cold, heavy line of the zipper down his torso, air-conditioned hotel air rushes in over his chest and stomach. His nipples pebble and his abs clench at the sudden chill. He keeps his eyes closed, his face pressed to the side with his phone tucked between his cheek and the pillow. He has both hands free like this, and he trails his fingertips lightly up and down - through his chest hair, down, following his happy trail to the waistband of his boxers, then back up and over again.

"It's open," he says, a little breathless. He knows Tommy likes when he sounds like this, and hopes it's affecting him.

"Good. Pinch your nipples for me." Buck follows the direction, and can't help the gasp that pushes into his lungs.

"That's good, sweetheart," Tommy continues. "Take your shorts off."

Buck pushes his boxers down to his knees and kicks them off and away. His cock rests hard and full against his stomach, framed by the open sides of Tommy's sweater. He licks his palm and takes himself in hand, closing his eyes again, the better to focus on the whisper of Tommy's breathing on the other end of the line.

"So what are you wearing," he asks again, smiling when Tommy snorts. He hears the familiar snick of the lube cap and stalls his hand for a moment, building a picture of what Tommy could be doing - getting his big hand slick before wrapping it around himself, maybe.

"I'm not wearing a thing, baby."

And that - he can see it so clearly in his mind's eye, the way Tommy must look right now, reclined in his soft blue-striped sheets, stroking himself, holding the phone up to his ear. Buck squeezes his cock and groans, starts moving his hand again, with purpose, when Tommy chuckles.

"What are you thinking about?"

"You," Buck says, gasping when he presses his thumb under the head of his dick the way Tommy likes to do. "What you look like right now, what- ah- how you're touching yourself." He presses harder against his phone with his cheek, pushing it down into the pillow and bringing his face close to the bunched-up hood of the sweater he's wearing. It smells like Tommy - like his shampoo, his laundry detergent, his aftershave, all spun together to overwhelm Buck's senses. He moves his hand faster.

Tommy groans and Buck could swear he feels it, through the phone, into his ear, down his throat. "I'm-" Tommy pauses. Grunts. "I'm fucking myself with the dildo you bought, wishing it was you."

And that- that's- Buck can't help the sound that pulls - from deep in his chest, low, needy, shaped vaguely like Tommy's name. He inhales and takes in a lungful of Tommy. He exhales and puts some sound into it for Tommy's benefit. He moves his left hand, unclenching it from where he'd been clutching the sheets, and he cradles his balls, tugs them just the way he likes.

"God, Tommy-" All he can think about is the last time he fucked Tommy, almost two weeks ago now, how Tommy looked with his legs spread, curled around Buck's waist; how he took it and took it until he came, untouched, how he clenched around Buck's cock and moaned when Buck came inside him. Buck moves his hand faster again, everything gone slick with the amount of pre-come he's leaking, dripping down his hand and stomach. He's getting close, he can feel it like a rising tide, like a wave just about to crest.

"I'm gonna-" he says, breathing heavily into his phone. "Tommy, you're- I'm-"

"Evan," Tommy rasps, and that does it. Buck comes with a stuttered moan - the wave crests, breaks, flushes to shore and he loses himself, for just a moment. His brain catches back up to the present just in time to hear Tommy gasp his name one more time, followed by a drawn-out moan, then finally heavy breathing. They sit in the quiet, catching their breath together.

"How much longer did you say?"

Tommy chuckles, and Buck knows he's smiling by how he sounds when he says, "Just a little while. I'll keep the bed warm for you."

Buck's heart swoops in his chest at the thought. He can get through this week. On the other side of it, there's a bed with blue-striped sheets, and a gorgeous man waiting for him in it.

[hardly-an-escape]

following on from this post, 780 more words of slightly angsty Tommy POV post-breakup

The second voicemail comes about a week and a half later. While Tommy is in therapy.

It's not formal therapy (what he thinks of as real therapy, though he keeps that particular bitchy thought to himself), more of a support group geared toward veterans and first responders. He'd originally found it in the weeks after Howie had saved his life, still reeling and feeling his mortality more keenly than he ever had before, and he'd returned off and on over the years.

Including now. Two sleepless nights in a row leading to a silent crying jag in the shower at work will do that to a person. So his phone is on silent and in the backpack under his folding chair when Evan – when Buck calls.

It's probably for the best. The support group has been leaving him feeling so raw, so flayed open, that if his phone had rung while he was sitting in his truck afterward, decompressing and chugging a bottle of water, he probably would have answered.

As it is, it takes him a good five minutes of staring at the notification on his phone before he works up the courage to listen to the message.

"Hey, Tommy. It's me. I'm sorry for… for calling you out of the blue like this, but," Evan sighs. "I don't know. I guess I didn't know… who else to talk about this. Not that you want to talk to me, but." He laughs. It doesn't even sound sarcastic, just dull. "Anyway. Eddie's leaving. He's moving back to Texas to be with Chris. It… it's the right thing to do. He's talking about selling his house. I know it's the right thing. But it's got me… I don't know, I'm really fucked up about it. I just wanted to hear your voice for a second, even if it was just your… your outgoing message. I'm sorry about this."

There's a muffled thump, as though he'd almost dropped the phone while hanging up, and the voicemail ends.

Tommy listens to it two more times, sitting in the parking lot of the slightly rundown community center where the support group meets. He realizes he's gripping his phone so tightly that the case is digging uncomfortable lines into the palm of his hand.

He aches for Evan. He feels the sadness, the longing, like a physical presence in his chest, a fishhook caught in the soft meat just below his sternum, attached to a line running who knows where. He feels as though something or someone is tugging on the line, a little meanly, every time he thinks about Evan. About Buck.

He drives home and ignores the part of his heart that's telling him to make a sharp turn and go directly to the loft. To knock on the door and see Buck's eyes light up, like they always did, and to forestall the inevitable disappointment at the memory the sight of Tommy would spark by simply stepping into his space and kissing him. To wrap Buck up in his arms and tell him everything is going to be okay.

It's a pleasant daydream. But that's just not how things are allowed to go.

Tommy makes it home and makes himself go inside, put his things away, and drink another glass of water before he pulls out his phone again.

Tommy: Got your message. I think you're probably right that it's the right thing but it sounds tough. Tommy: When does he leave?

The answer doesn't come through right away; Tommy wonders if Buck's on shift or busy with something else. It's evening by now, he could be out with friends, or having dinner with his sister. Tommy doesn't think about it.

E. Buckley: depends on when the house goes on the market I guess idk E. Buckley: it sounds like theres still alot to figure out actually.

There's a long pause. The little typing bubbles appear and disappear several times before the next text arrives.

E. Buckley: thank u for answering. how are you doing?

Tommy sucks in a breath. He doesn't know how to answer that question except with meaningless platitudes or devastating truth, and it doesn't feel like Evan deserves either one.

Tommy: Don't worry about me.

This time the answer comes almost immediately.

E. Buckley: don't tell me what to do E. Buckley: anyway I can't help it so deal

He doesn't know what to say to that either, so once again he leaves Evan – leaves Buck, fuck – guiltily on read and shoves his phone back in his pocket. He gets himself a beer and drinks it, too fast, standing up in the kitchen.

Maybe someday he'll have the balls to call back.

[behindthesoul]

MK Men As Parents

Thanks to @mortal-kombat-shitposts and Tommy from the Discord server for giving me this idea <3

Characters: Liu Kang, Syzoth, Shang Tsung, Bi-Han

Note: gender neutral, mentions of periods in Syzoth’s part, not proofread

Masterlist

Liu Kang

Chill parent.

He makes time for his kid whenever he can, but he’s busy with being the defender of Earthrealm. I can see his kid mostly being raised by the monks at the Wu Shi Academy.

He trains his kid to the best of his ability, not wanting them to be defenseless in case of an emergency.

I don’t think they would go to Outworld much. Sindel wouldn’t even know Liu had a kid til they’re older.

Liu is very wise and gives the best advice. He’s there to calm his kid down should they ever get angry or upset. He expects his child to be truthful and always come to him if something’s wrong.

I can imagine his kid learning of his god status pretty early on, but not knowing of his past role as Keeper of Time until he’s forced to reveal it. Depending on their personality, this could cause some tension between them.

Syzoth

Assuming Syzoth’s child also has his ability to take a human form, he would drill it into their head that they are not a freak. Their human and Zaterran form are both beautiful to him.

Parenting is a unique challenge for Syzoth. While he easily handles the Zaterran aspects of raising a child, he finds it more challenging to comprehend human things such as periods, puberty, and tantrums.

Syzoth finds himself missing his family more and more each day. He feels bad his child won’t have much family to grow up around. I think because of this, Syzoth is a bit protective. He’s already lost so much, he can’t bear to lose the best thing in his life.

He’s nowhere near overbearing, but there are moments where he watches his kid like a hawk.

Shang Tsung

I can imagine Shang being a single parent, doing his best to raise a child in his shack. He spends most of the day out in towns, selling his fake cures. He trusts his child to be able to take care of themselves while he’s gone.

He’s a devoted father doing all he can to keep his child happy. He wants them to be smart, frequently having them reading above age-level and doing math problems most kids their age can’t comprehend.

Once Shang’s benefactor gives him his big break? Shang spoils the shit out of his child. Giving them the life they’ve always deserved. These are the days Shang’s child sees him smile the most. Gone are the days of tirelessly selling fraudulent medicine. It’s time to live lavish!

Bi-Han

Not the most emotionally available parent.

He’s not the type to show any emotion that isn’t anger, and he doesn’t know how to deal with others’ feelings. He tries his best, but he may not react to every situation the way his child needs him to.

He’s a strict father; a product of being the grandmaster of the Lin Kuei. His child has a lot of eyes on them, so they will be ruthlessly trained to be the best of the best.

He is a father first before he is a grandmaster. But, if he feels the need to put his foot down, his child will hear “obey your Grandmaster!”

He’ll never admit to it, but Bi-Han does spoil his child. Not as much as other characters would, though.

His strictness will only work for so long! If his child catches him on a good day, he may or may not let them skip training by feigning illness. If someone brings it up he’ll just say, “my child shows great dedication to the Lin Kuei. They have not missed a day of training.”

[lunarflux]

x: Thomas Shelby found his match in an information bookie who has eluded the grasp of the Peaky Blinders long enough to crumble their power over Birmingham. But at last, he found you. The ghost he'd been chasing was finally in front of him, but you were trickier than he expected. Dangerous, cunning - and a bit too much like himself. To buy your loyalty, he would have to sell his in equal measure. Loyalty for loyalty - blood for blood - how much were either of you willing to spill before the game changed entirely?

part 1: the new board

word count: 1,412

✒✒✒✒✒✒✒✒✒✒✒✒✒✒✒✒✒✒✒✒✒✒✒✒✒✒

"What do you want?"

"You're the one who came here, Mr. Shelby. I believe I should be the one asking that question."

It was odd, being seated across from a mirror. Whoever you were, you wouldn't budge. A cigarette dangled from two dainty fingers, wisps of smoke swirling into the air between you.

Tommy didn't know who you were. The Emerald of London to some. The Ghost of Birmingham to others. Your real name never crossed anyone's lips. You were practically a phantom - a meddlesome one at that. Some of the usual gamblers started avoiding certain days, ones that were particularly important to the Blinders, and by the third race with meager winnings, he knew.

There was a new player in the game, and until they were wiped clean from the board, the uneasy feeling that made home in the pit of his stomach would not go away. Gun deals gone awry, exchanges with people he thought would always owe him - all of it was going sour.

It took weeks of dwindling business before Tommy told Finn to find you. What he expected to see - a new information bookie operating from a damp, abandoned warehouse - was anything but. No, you were cunning. Charming, even. You had a certain allure about you. Your face held little expression aside from what could only be described as deceitfully cold, only ever showing the briefest emotion in your eyes. And when you spoke, it was intertwined with a feline-esque hum - almost like every conversation someone tried to work from you was a waste of your time. Finn only said that when he found you in the old bookshop across town that something was off, and though he couldn't articulate what made him uneasy, he knew that you would not easily be burned from the streets of Birmingham.

Tommy sat across from you, his still face hiding the mild headache your presence brought to the front of his mind, and he waited. At first, you two waited in silence.

You sighed, tapping the ash from your cigarette down to the floor. "Very well then. What business do you have here?"

"You've been selling information to the Russians."

"I have."

"What do they have on you?"

The corner of your lip twitched into a grin. "And what makes you think they have something on me?"

Tommy bore his eyes into yours, not willing to admit that this was one of a few conclusions he made about your motives. "What are they paying you then," he said plainly, less of a question and more of an anticipatory retort.

You tilted your hand out, motioning to the air to allude how silly the accusation was. "They pay whatever they think what I have to give them is worth."

"And the Irish, they pay as well."

"The Russians pay, the Irish pay... The Italians pay, the politicians pay... The Blinders can pay, too, if that's where this conversation is going."

You were woven into the system more than he thought - more than any of them thought. It was only whatever you sold that involved them that led him to believe you had a personal stake against them. It seemed now that this wasn't the case. They were just one of the last to find you.

"So, you'll resort to extortion to keep you out of our business."

"People don't pay me to stop, Mr. Shelby. They pay me to keep playing. It'd be bad for business otherwise. Take me out of the picture with the drop of some coins, and my credibility goes out the window."

Tommy hoped that his silence would push you to reveal more, but you continuously proved him wrong. He had to keep asking questions. It was what you wanted. You wanted him to pry as far as his cold composure would allow him to.

"So, where do your loyalties lie then?"

"I have no loyalties," you said, feigning confusion at the notion. "That's what makes me good at what I do."

"What is your loyalty worth then?"

"That's not how this works, Mr. Shelby. If the information someone else buys is at the expense of the Peaky Blinders, I'm afraid you'll find no sympathy from me."

Silence. Just a few more seconds, and maybe your curiosity would peak.

Again, you sighed, not attempting to hide your boredom. "Fine. Humor me. What are you offering?"

"Protection."

"I don't need protection."

"If I could find you, then there's nothing stopping the rest of them from finding you."

"On the contrary, if they wanted to kill me, I'd already be dead."

You knew you were valuable - more than Tommy cared to admit. Your awareness of the situation was your advantage, and it was a benefit not afforded easily. He had to offer you something worth considerably more, and it was not something he could give freely. However, he would not be the one to offer it up. You needed to ask for it, only then would he know what actually mattered to you.

Tommy kept his gaze on you. "Name your price then."

"I have to know what you're trying to purchase before I can tell you what it's worth." You wanted something more. Not something tangible. Money was so easily spent. "Tell me then, what is it you want from me?"

Tommy's eyes narrowed in the slightest to study your face. The cold, icy wall behind your eyes revealed so little. At the mention of payment, you were amused. At the thought of taking sides, you found humor. No, you were alone, and that's how you wanted it. So, what would be more valuable to you, something that didn't cost something physical? The answer came to him slowly, like a the sunrise peaking over the city until it blinded him completely.

"Your loyalty," he finally answered.

Your true smile - the one that only surfaced in the face of something that truly interested you - was more unsettling than he cared to admit. But he knew. Your loyalty would cost him dearly, whether it be from his pocket or something much deeper.

"You want to buy my loyalty?" You chuckled, a low and sinister tone like the monster beneath your grin was daring to reveal itself. "No, my loyalty stays with me, and I would only sell it for -"

"My loyalty."

The words slipped past his lips before he even really knew what he was saying. This had to have been what you were goading him for. An equal share of his respect. He would not have you entangling yourself with the Peaky Blinders with the assumption of your loyalty alone. You had to trust him as much as he forced himself to trust you.

You leaned forward, close enough for him to feel the icy shards trying to reach him from your leer. "And what is your loyalty worth?"

He was at a crossroads. Protection had a price, and people paid it. But loyalty - that was something else entirely. How much did he want you on their side that he was willing to give himself in equal measure? Your dealings with his enemies said enough. You had a pull over every corner of the city, and the longer you remained a black widow on the outskirts of all the chaos that followed, the closer the walls enclosed around him. He hated to admit it, but he needed you. He needed you on their side.

At least long enough to make sure you were hooked without expecting more than he was capable of giving.

You sat back and took a long drag of your cigarette, blowing the smoke out towards the ceiling. The phantom of that smile lingered at the corner of your lips, almost like you were amused - satisfied, even - that he was willing to offer up something with a value only you could determine. It was only a matter of time before you came to your own conclusions about what his loyalty was truly worth to you.

"I appreciate the consideration, Mr. Shelby." The phantom smile lowered until the cold façade reclaimed your face. "I will consider your offer."

Tommy rose slowly and placed his cap back on his head. His jaw tightened as he chose his next words carefully. "The Garrison. After close. Meet me there if we have a deal."

You lifted your chin with a nod. The conversation was far from over, but the new board has been set. Now, he just had to wait.

[redgoldblue]

sell your fear and leave me standing here

buck/tommy, 12.9k, T, triple pov (Buck; Tommy; Eddie). yet another 8x06 fix-it, featuring gay bingo, firefam input, and bonus Lucy Donato

The first Eddie hears of the breakup is, “Eddie, what the fuck just happened?”

Eddie’s finished his beer and is still basking in a post-Risky Business glow, and for a moment he thinks Buck’s talking about the fact that he’s not wearing pants.

“I don’t know, Buck,” he replies, just for fun. “You tell me.”

“Eddie,” he repeats. That makes Eddie sit up straighter, except that his shirt is way slipperier than he thought and his legs are stuck to the couch, and the combination somehow leads to him half-sliding half-falling off the couch as Buck continues, “I think Tommy just dumped me.”

It also mean his initial response is, “Ow!”

Buck peers down at him. “Yeah. Want a hand up?”

“I got it.” He pushes himself back up and collapses back on the couch. “You think?” he asks.

“No, he definitely did. I checked.”

“What the fuck?”

“That’s what I said!”

“That’s-” Well, the glow is abating now. If the fall hadn’t done it already. “Okay, tell me what happened.”

“It was great. We were great. And I scared him off. I think. Maybe. We were going to a movie. And then he called me Buck.”

Eddie bites back on his first response of ‘that’s your name’, because after a few seconds considering it he does get how that would seem weird after six months of ‘Evan’. Instead, he makes a ‘go on’ gesture.

“I told him about Abby. And I’d talked to Josh. I didn’t tell him that, that happened before, but Josh talked to me.”

“Hang on, hang on, rewind,” Eddie says. At this rate it might take him until tomorrow’s shift to get the full story, but he needs to clarify something here. “What about Abby?”

“Oh, right, I only told Maddie. Yeah, he was engaged to Abby. And I didn’t tell him that was my Abby when he told me, because, I mean-”

“What the fuck,” Eddie supplies. It seems to be the phrase of the moment.

“Yeah,” Buck agrees. He’d emptied his beer bottle about a minute after sitting down, and rather than reaching for another one he’s just been turning it round and round in his hands. He stops, now, and starts picking at the corner of the label instead. “And I talked to Josh about it, because I was talking to Maddie about it and he was there, and he- he gave me a speech about Glee, and it made me think, I guess, so then before we went to the movie I told Tommy-”

“Oh, god, Buck,” Eddie interrupts, because there’s so much happening here and it’s all heading in a truly terrible direction, and maybe it wouldn’t be so bad if they started work before he has to hear the end of it. “Did you tell him you love him? Before he broke up with you?”

“I mean, no,” Buck says, but it’s completely unconvincing and he’s drooped even further into the couch. “Worse.”

“Worse?”

Buck’s next words are mumbled under his breath, and it genuinely takes Eddie a moment to figure out what they are. “I-asked-him-to-move-in.”

Eddie blinks, processes that, then reaches over to grab another beer bottle. He gently pulls the now thoroughly de-labelled one from Buck’s hands and replaces it with good hard alcohol. Then he says, “So just to be clear, you asked him to move in with you after six months, and he dumped you for it? Do you want me to kick his ass? I absolutely can, he’s not as good at Muay Thai as he thinks he is.”

Buck chuckles. It sounds a little like a dying frog. “No. He said- I don’t know, I went too fast. He didn’t say that. He said he wasn’t going to be my last.”

“Dick,” Eddie says, because Tommy is his friend and he’s sure there was more going on, but Buck is his best friend who just got dumped, and that requires a little name-calling.

Buck’s face scrunches up, eyes closed, as he says, “He said I was going to break his heart.”

“So he broke yours first?”

“Yeah,” Buck says, and it sounds strained enough that Eddie slips closer on instinct. It’s a good thing he did, because Buck continues, “I guess so,” then turns towards him, and suddenly there’s the weight of a Buck against him and a wet feeling on his shoulder. “Oh, fuck, Eddie,” and the next words come out on a whole-hearted sob, “I loved him.”

~

The second thing Eddie hears about the breakup is, “Eddie, what the fuck happened, man?”

keep reading on ao3

[champagneher]

BACK TO DECEMBER | TOMMY SHELBY

BASED ON | TOMMY REALLY WANTED TO GO BACK IN TIME TO WHEN YOU WERE JUST HIS. PAIRING | TOMMY X F!READER. WARNINGS | EXES, CURSING, ANGST, DRINKING, PART 1?

That night, the Garrison Pub seemed quieter than usual. The familiar clinking of glasses and the low hum of conversations filled the air, but there was a somber undertone that even the dim, warm glow of the gaslights couldn't dispel. Men with drinks at their tables drank without paying attention to their surroundings, immersed in conversations with friends, forgetting the hard day's work. No one noticed how the atmosphere was more bitter… almost nostalgic.

Except for Tommy; he was observing everything from the office door. His flat cap in his left hand, while his right hand held a cigarette to his lips. Releasing the smoke from his mouth, he began making his way to the bar door for the family meeting Polly had scheduled. A family meeting he wasn’t invited to.

The fact burned a part of his mind and filled him with rage. Why the hell would Polly gather the family but exclude him? There was something they obviously didn’t want him to know. Something he was determined to find out. Damn it, if they thought he wouldn’t discover the meeting and investigate what was going on, they were wrong.

December had arrived again, the cold seeping through his heavy wool coat and touching his skin, but he continued his way without paying attention. The Birmingham streets were quiet, the occasional flicker of a streetlamp illuminating the cobblestones slick with recent rain. His eyes were fixed on the path, but his mind was everywhere. He couldn’t stop thinking, he had no moment of peace. Not since that day, the day he held the phone in one hand while holding a piece of paper with a number written on it in the other. The calendar marked the day with a red circle, seeming to judge him, hoping he would finally do it, that the courage he always claimed to have would make him call you for your birthday.

But what was he supposed to say? They hadn’t talked in a long time. Not since those words came out of your mouth. Those damn words that sent Tommy into a whirlwind of emotions. Emotions that were unknown to him. He didn’t understand at that moment that it was an opportunity at the beginning of a fulfilling life. A life he let die with the roses you gave him the day you opened your heart.

“I don’t understand,” you murmured. Your gaze fixed on the white flowers you had brought him as a small gesture to mark the beginning of the last month of the year. A girl was passing by selling them, and when you saw them, you immediately thought of him and how, the first time he took you to see his horses, he gave you a white rose. That day was etched in your mind as well as in your heart. You didn’t know how there were such beautiful flowers at this time of year, but you took it as a sign of the courage to finally confess to Tommy, hoping to strengthen and officially start what, in your eyes, you believed was mutual. Oh, how wrong you were.

“What don’t you understand, _____?” Tommy ran his hands over his face, feeling trapped. He didn’t really know where, but he could feel the walls of the room closing in even more as time passed.

“Tommy, how can you say this to me?” You shook your head incredulously. “This… I, I gave you everything. We see each other every day, we practically live together, and now you tell me this?” With each passing second, you felt the knot in your throat intensifying, and the heat in your chest burning you. “We’ve been together for a year now—”

“Don’t confuse things, _____. We are not together.” This time Tommy, for some reason even he didn’t know, spoke slowly and carefully. Almost in a way that was trying to convince you that you were mistaken, that it wasn’t love you both had. Or maybe he was just trying to convince himself. “We said it when we started sleeping together, and I repeat it to you. It’s only for mutual benefit. Nothing more, hmm?”

You laughed without joy and looked at the ceiling while feeling your eyes welling up. You cursed under your breath. You had never been one to show your feelings or even talk about them, but you felt so secure with him that for some reason you decided to put your heart on the table, only for it to be stabbed by the one you were completely in love with.

Tommy slowly lifted his gaze from the desk and fixed it on you. A discomfort and a bitter taste in his mouth seemed to want to tell him something he decided to ignore and focus on what he believed was best for both of them.

“Freedom, _____.” He said with his eyes on you. “Freedom to do what we want, do you really want to lose that? It’s not worth it.”

You lowered your head for a few seconds, trying to process the shame, pain, and anger that were driving you mad at that moment. How dare he say that freedom was his priority over you? You, who gave everything to stay by his side. Ignoring the looks, the whispers, insults, and pointing fingers at you to support him in all his decisions. The nights you gave up sleep to watch over his well-being were a waste in his eyes. He never wanted you or what you gave him and were willing to give. He only wanted someone to sleep with and vent to, someone to entertain him on his boring nights. You didn’t see it. Maybe all your judgment was clouded by his blue eyes that seemed to want to take you to heaven. And he did, he took you to the highest point only to let you go, and now you found yourself shattered on the ground of reality.

“Fuck you, Tommy. You and your stupid fictitious freedom.” You said through clenched teeth. “You want to be free? Congratulations, Tommy, you already are. You freed yourself from me.”

That had been the last time Tommy had seen you. Exactly a little over a year ago when you showed up in his office, as beautiful as always. With a coat that Ada had given you because you were that important to everyone, you had become someone special to the Shelbys, and when you decided to take the much-desired step of officially becoming a couple, Tommy simply rejected it.

The last thing he heard from you was when Polly, with a disappointed look, announced that you had gone back to London with your sister. They didn’t want to tell him anything more about you. He understood, he knew it was because of his actions and saying that you decided to leave the town. After all, you were from there, you had only fallen in love with the town when you came to visit a friend and decided to stay. Or that’s what you told everyone to avoid saying the obvious. That you stayed for him.

Over time he thought he had forgotten you, believed he had made the right decision by prioritizing what he so often called freedom, and futilely tried to believe he didn’t love you. But he was so wrong. Time was only a brief moment of forgetfulness, only to come back and take him back to those September nights where everything seemed perfect. Where he held you in his arms at night while listening to the beat of your heart, which was his favorite melody to calm his demons and fill him with a peace he thought he had lost. When you waited for him until late at night just to tend to his wounds, or listen to him talk about things that bothered him, or simply hold him. Kissing you seemed to be the remedy that cured everything, making love to you was the perfect union of their two souls. So beautiful, so bright that only the darkness of his selfishness prevailed and let everything crash to the ground.

Lately, he found himself returning to the past more than usual, but this time it was different. It wasn’t his dark past, the one he cursed remembering. Instead, it was a happy past because you were in it, in all his memories you were always there. By his side, holding him, loving him.

Without realizing it, he was already at the door of Polly’s house. He took his cap off his head and shook off the snow. His hands covered by black leather gloves turned the doorknob but paused briefly to hear laughter.

They weren’t accustomed to laughing so much, to sounding so cheerful… so happy. What the hell was going on?

Efficiently, Tommy opened the door and his breath caught in his throat at the scene before him. Everything seemed to have stopped. Even his heart.

“_____…” Tommy said softly upon seeing you in the living room, sitting with Polly, Ada, and John. All happy while drinking tea, and Tommy felt his body go numb. “You’re back.”

“Hello, Tommy.”

[unhingedangstaddict]

Currently working on my own fix-it fic but man this shit is harder than I thought it'd be- I keep crying and then getting distracted reading other fix-it fics. Thought I'd share this snippet to hopefully motivate myself to keep going???

Hen was starting to wonder if maybe Tommy was out for a run when she heard a faint ‘oh shit’ from inside the house. She banged on the door again. “Come on Kinard! I know you’re in there!” She called out. If Tommy’s neighbors thought she was crazy, oh well, too bad. Hen really didn’t care.

Finally the door was opened by Tommy. His hair was a mess- sticking up as though he’d been running his hands through it far too much-, he had deep dark bags under his eyes from lack of sleep, his eyes were puffy from crying, and frankly, he looked like shit. “What do you want, Hen?” Tommy rasped. Whether his voice was hoarse due to dehydration or yelling and/or crying was unclear.

“To talk about what happened last night.” Hen crossed her arms.

“You mean you’re here to yell at me for what I did?" Tommy guessed. He hadn't forgotten the thinly veiled shovel talk from Hen and Karen months back at the medal ceremony- he wasn't surprised Hen was here now. “Trust me I hate myself for it enough. There’s nothing you can say that I haven’t already thought about myself.”

“No. I’m here to try and understand what even happened. According to Eddie, Buck wasn’t making very much sense last night. Eddie would’ve come himself to check on you but he’s got Buck right now. Eddie’s worried about you and frankly, I am too.”

Tommy sighed deeply and stepped aside to let Hen into the house.

Soon they were sitting at Tommy’s kitchen table with mugs of coffee in hand.

“So are you gonna tell me what happened or are you just gonna keep having that staring contest with your coffee?” Hen questioned.

“He asked me to move in with him.” Tommy admitted quietly.

“Okay,” Hen said slowly, waiting for Tommy to explain further why he was upset by it. Beyond the obvious matter of Buck leasing his loft apartment and Tommy owning his house, Hen wasn’t sure what the issue was.

“For a split second, I thought about saying yes.” Tommy confessed. “Then I returned to reality and realized I had to end it.”

“But why?” Hen questioned.

“Even if it was only for a second, Hen, I was ready to, what? Sell my house and more than half my stuff to move in with him? I’m not even mad about that part- I’m upset with myself for considering it. I’ve been in Evan’s position before, first gay relationship, lovesick, you think it’s gonna last forever. And I’ve been the first for guys before too. Like I told Evan last night, I know how it ends. And I guess I’d rather break my own heart than wait around for Evan to do it.”

“If you’ve been so sure all this time that it could never work, why did it take until now for you to call things off?” Hen questioned.

“I think from the start I knew I was playing with fire. After the last guy I was a first for, I told myself I wasn’t going to do it anymore. Then I met Evan, and he was just so magnetic, I couldn’t stay away even if I wanted to. I couldn't say no to him. I think I always knew my heart would get broken, and I guess I was okay with that all this time, until last night when I realized I love him, and I knew I had to cut myself off before I reached a point of no return.” Tommy explained. “I mean, I’m a fucking a mess right now and I was the one who called it off. I don’t know if I would’ve been able to survive him ending it.”

“Did you really just figure out last night that you love him?” Hen asked.

“I guess I sorta loved him from the start but last night was different, Hen. I’m in love with him, like well and truly love him, in a way I’ve never felt before, about anyone.” Tears filled Tommy’s eyes. “And I’m just his first. And as badly as I want it, I know I don’t get to be his last.”

“What makes you so sure you can’t be his last?” Hen wondered.

“Because I’m not the forever guy." Tommy shrugged slightly as a tear finally escaped and slid down his cheek. "At best I’m the close-to-but-never-quite-enough guy."