#he was just fucking around with tom's plans and it's all a blur until he realized that tom was putting a ring on his finger

[hmdaaaa]

i loooove tomarry time travel au but with outsiders ' perspective... imagine being Hermione sending Harry back to 1940s to stop Tom and then just to see him in Hogwarts: a History like "professor Harry Evans Riddle, the school's Defense against the dark art professor and his husband: Minister of magic Tom Marvolo Riddle". His picture in the book looks nervous as hell like he understood that he would be bombarded by Hermione when the time comes...

[totallyjustabunchofhocuspocus]

Fic: Something to Sink Your Teeth Into 7/?

Read on AO3

Pairing: Buck/Tommy

Vampire/Witch!AU

CW--I'm going for a little Enemies to Lovers here, and there's a little bit of power dynamics at play here, but I'm not planning on getting Stockholmy with it or anything.

Evan managed to hold it together as he followed the vampire—Tommy…what the fuck kind of name was Tommy for a centuries-old vampire?—down the stairs and into the main living area of wherever the vam—Tom—Kinard had taken him.

He held it together as Kinard sat down on his couch, seemingly ignoring Evan entirely to focus on some godawful reality show.

He held it together as he measured the distance between him and the door, before common sense asserted itself with a dull pulse of despair in his aching head. He’d never make it. He knew he’d never make it. His only choice was to play whatever game Kinard wanted until he regained enough of his strength to start casting again.

Held it together right up until he clicked the (utterly pointless, he knew) lock on the bathroom door and turned to face himself in the mirror over the sink.

His eyes fixed on the puncture wounds in the side of his neck, bare for the whole world to see, and his stomach dropped sickeningly. Somehow…somehow he’d thought a vampire’s bite would look more violent. He remembered meeting a few witches at the unbearably boring parties he and Maddie had been forced to attend as children, ones who had had violent encounters with vampires. They’d had awful scars—like they’d been savaged by a wild animal. The wounds on his throat were an angry red, the skin around them lightly bruised. A few flecks of dried blood still clung to the edges. They didn’t…they didn’t look as violent as he had been expecting.

But they were a stark, glaring reminder of just how much danger he was in.

Kinard kept saying he wasn’t going to hurt him, but he had. He had. He’d drunk Evan’s blood. He’d kidnapped him. It didn’t fucking matter what he said, Evan wasn’t stupid. Kinard wasn’t going to let him leave.

And Evan couldn’t do anything about it.

He was trapped here. Even to Evan’s mostly untrained senses, Kinard was fucking powerful, even without the boost that Evan’s blood would give him. And he had his entire coven backing him up. Evan’s memories of the night before were still muddled, but he knew that he’d thrown some of his best spells at Kinard…and he’d still ended up helplessly thralled. He’d been panicking, not thinking clearly—but there was no guarantee that even with all his magic at his disposal and time to plan, he’d be able to beat the vampire. Let alone his whole coven. He was trapped. And no one would be coming for him. Max was the only one of his roommates who’d even known where he was going and Max…Max was dead.

He was alone.

Alone.

Without warning, his knees gave out, and he found himself sitting on the floor of the bathroom, his hands pressed against his mouth hard enough to hurt, as he gasped for air that didn’t seem to want to come. His eyes stung, blurring with tears that he stubbornly tried to blink away. He couldn’t start crying. He couldn’t. He had to hold the panic welling up in his chest at bay, couldn’t give in, couldn’t fall apart here. He couldn’t, he couldn’t, he couldn’t, he was lost if he fell apart here.

He wanted Sally. The quiet darkness in the back of his mind where there had once been warm light and his familiar’s soothing voice was something he’d never quite gotten used to, but now it felt like a gaping wound. He wanted to feel her silky fur under his fingers, have her nudge him gently under the chin and tell him he needed to calm down in that endlessly patient, warm voice that had soothed so many of his hurts since he was ten years old.

He wanted Maddie. Oh God, he wanted his sister. He wanted her to wrap her arms around him and stroke his hair the way she used to when he was a child, wanted her to whisper that everything would be all right so long as they stuck together.

He hadn’t seen his sister since the night she drove with him to a bus stop on the Pennsylvania/Ohio border and stood with him in the parking lot as midnight crept closer and closer. Sally had been forced to abandon him as soon as the sentence was handed down, but his coven bonds would not dissolve until the end of the seven days they’d given him to leave Pennsylvania. Tears had streamed down Maddie’s face as she hugged him tightly, promising him over and over that this wasn’t the last time they were going to see each other. That she would figure out how to leave their family’s coven without bringing the whole house of cards down on them both and she would come find him. He just had to hold on until then.

That had been five years ago, but he carried Maddie’s desperate promises close to his heart. Sometimes the thought of seeing his sister again someday was all that kept him going. No matter how terrible things got, he knew he needed to hold on for her. He needed to hold on.

He swallowed hard, squeezing his eyes shut as he forced himself to take one deep breath, and then another. Then another. He could do this. He had to do this. He had to pull himself together and figure out how to get away from Kinard and his coven. There had to be a way—he could not die here. Would not die here. Slowly, he levered himself off the floor, still feeling shaky and weak, but more clearheaded than he had since he’d first been slammed up against the wall at that damn party.

Okay. Okay, clearly if he wasn’t dead yet, then Kinard wanted him for his blood. He vaguely remembered the vampire trying to convince him to walk out of the mansion with him of his own free will, just play along and let Kinard take him because it would be better than whatever the other vampires in the mansion would do to him. For whatever reason, Kinard was trying to convince him that he wasn’t going to just take what he wanted from Evan. It was probably just some game, a power play, a cat toying with a mouse…but maybe he could use it. Play along like he was cowed and afraid—well, okay, the afraid bit wouldn’t require any great acting on his part—and desperate for Kinard not to kill him. It might buy him enough time to find an opportunity to escape.

If Kinard was as old as he seemed, it was probably naïve to assume he’d never had any experience with witches…but Evan very much doubted that Kinard had ever encountered a witch like him. How about that, for once the fact that he was a freak of nature, a parasite, might work in his favor.

He imagined the tsk of disapproval that would have sounded in the back of his mind if Sally knew he was thinking like that. She’d always hated it when he let those thoughts in; let them take root.

But Sally wasn’t with him. Would never be with him again, her loving presence and gentle voice just as lost to him as Maddie’s was and far more permanently. The fact remained that Evan’s magic was…unusual. And behaved accordingly.

Hesitantly, he started stripping out of the scratchy, cheap uniform the temp agency had provided him, ignoring the way the collar was crusted with dried blood. As much as the thought of wearing the vampire’s clothes creeped him out, he had to admit he’d feel better in something clean. He stepped under the hot water and closed his eyes, reaching for his magic and feeling out the edges of it, the strength. It still felt weirdly calm for the situation he finds himself in, a constant, gentle glow in his mind, the warmth of a banked fire that never goes out. It had raced through his blood like lightning at the mansion, reacting to danger he hadn’t been able to see until it was too late.

He wasn’t confident that he would be able to summon a spell strong enough to take out an ancient vampire hopped up on witch blood, let alone his coven. He was, however, reasonably certain he’d recover faster than Kinard was expecting. Especially if he played up his weakness a bit. God, he’d have to be careful about it, but it wasn’t like he didn’t have practice making himself look smaller and weaker than he actually was…hell, it had practically been a survival skill growing up.

He had no idea what time it was, but he had to have been out for a few hours at least, and Kinard said he was going to order him breakfast (which, what the fuck?) so presumably it was daytime. If he could make it out of this building, his chances of escaping increased significantly. His heart damn near broke at the thought of leaving the Jeep behind…but he couldn’t take the chance the vampires hadn’t found the spare set of keys under the floormat and he seriously doubted Kinard would give his main set back. It was more important to get out of this alive. He could almost feel the slap upside the head Maddie would give him at the thought of being sentimental over the Jeep when his life was at stake.

He washed himself quickly with the soap and shampoo sitting out, studiously ignoring the thought that Kinard might have used the very same products before he came to that fucking party. The wounds on his neck stung faintly when he ran the washcloth over them and he let the pain steel his resolve. Kinard wasn’t getting his damn fangs in him ever again. He’d fucking die first. Stepping out of the shower, he dried off quickly and grit his teeth as he dressed in Kinard’s spare clothes. They fit better than he was expecting—a little loose in the shoulders and waist, but nothing too bad. Evan was not a small man by any measure, and he worked hard for his body, but Kinard had been fucking massive when he’d been turned. Especially considering what the average person might have looked like back then, depending on exactly how old Kinard was.

He didn’t bother looking for any other toiletries, shuddering at the thought of putting something in his mouth that Kinard had used, and ran his hands through his still-damp hair, trying to restore some order to it. He’d been meaning to get a cut for the last couple weeks, the curls were getting a little longer than he usually liked. Then he took a deep breath, closing his eyes as he laid his hand on the doorknob. Deliberately, he let his shoulders slump, relaxing his posture to take whatever bit off his height he could manage. He focused his gaze on the floor just beyond his feet and pulled his magic in as close as he could. Nothing to see here, folks, just harmless old Evan…don’t pay attention, don’t take a closer look.

Sometimes he wondered what a therapist would say about how easily he slipped into that mindset. It had always seemed to upset Maddie and Sally greatly.

He took another moment to steel himself and then unlocked the bathroom door, slipping back out into the loft to face Kinard alone.

Always alone.

Kinard was standing in the kitchen area, unpacking a couple of tall paper bags with a red and black logo on them on the island. Evan paused in surprise, not having expected Kinard to actually order him food. He watched the vampire unpack foam box after foam box, confusion and disbelief warring in him. The smell of bacon and syrup hit him and his stomach let out an embarrassingly loud grumble, reminding him he hadn’t actually eaten anything since the protein shake he’d gulped down before he and Max headed out to the party last night.

Kinard had to have known he was there the whole time, but he didn’t look up until Evan’s stomach growled, amusement flashing across his face briefly. “I got a little bit of everything,” he said, gesturing to the spread of what appeared to be enough breakfast food for an entire football team. “Help yourself.” He pulled a plastic jug of orange juice out of the last bag and busied himself at the kitchen counter, pulling a tall glass out of one of the cabinets.

Evan crept cautiously closer, still trying to puzzle out exactly what the vampire’s game was. His body betrayed him a little, his mouth watering at the smells coming from the boxes laid out on the island, his stomach growling again. Things had been tight for the last couple of months…the Jeep had needed a few expensive repairs, and he’d been unable to find steady work outside the temp agency. He’d been living mostly off protein shakes, peanut butter, and ramen (which made staying in his macro goals…interesting). He couldn’t even remember the last time he’d been able to afford to eat out somewhere that didn’t have a drive-thru and a colorful mascot.

Hesitantly, he reached out and opened one of the containers to find a stack of perfectly round, golden pancakes, glossy with melted butter, a little plastic container of syrup tucked into the corner. Another revealed a pile of perfectly ripe cantaloupe slices and strawberries. Crispy bacon and sausage. Oh fuck, that cinnamon roll was the size of his goddamn face and dripping with cream cheese frosting.

“It’s not poisoned, you know,” Kinard said suddenly, still with an undercurrent of amusement in his voice, snapping him out of his slightly stunned examination of all the options laid out before him.

With a start, he realized it hadn’t actually occurred to him that Kinard might do any such thing. He’d just been trying to figure out what he wanted to eat first. Jesus. No wonder Handel and Greta (those were their names, right? His parents had never allowed most fairy tales in the house…too much evil witch propaganda) ended up almost getting thrown in an oven.

The vampire turned around and set a huge tumbler of orange juice down on the island in front of him, immediately backing away and leaning against the sink with his arms crossed over his chest. Evan hesitated, but the sight of the drink made him painfully aware of how parched he was. Watching Kinard warily, he picked it up and took a sip. He meant just to take a sip.

The juice hit his tongue, ice-cold, and the perfect balance between sweet and tart, and before he knew it he was gulping half the glass down in one go. It hit his empty stomach, and it was like the refreshing sweetness just amped up his hunger. Fuck it, Kinard was right…if he wanted Evan dead, he sure as hell didn’t need to resort to poison. Setting the mostly empty glass down, he grabbed one of the plastic forks laid out and the container of pancakes, pulling it toward him and then spearing a couple of sausage links out of the other box.

He was aware of Kinard’s eyes on him as he tore into the food, only years of his parents’ laser-like focus on decorum and manners preventing him from falling on it like a starving wolf. He watched the vampire out of the corner of his eye, trying to read the odd expression that had settled on Kinard’s face. The vampire wasn’t exactly an open-book…but Evan had grown up in the upper echelons of witch politics in Pennsylvania. Being able to read micro-expressions was almost as important as being able to read words. Besides—he was actually a pretty decent bartender.

If he had to put a name on it, he’d say Kinard looked…conflicted about something. What the vampire had to be conflicted about, he had no idea. The idea that he’d be feeling bad about keeping Evan prisoner was laughable. He was a vampire. Having Evan here at his mercy must be like hitting the fucking Powerball.

“Do you know the name Vicent Gerrard?” Kinard asked suddenly, still regarding Evan with that strange, conflicted look.

Evan swallowed a bite of sausage and narrowed his eyes, considering. On the one hand, it felt foolish to admit anything to Kinard, no matter how small. On the other, though, he was pretty sure his only chance was convincing the vampire that he was too scared to be defiant. Eventually, he shook his head silently. Kinard nodded to himself.

“How about Olivia Ortiz?”

“No. Why, should I have?”

“Depends on how up to date you stay with the vampire covens in this territory. I thought most witch covens made sure their members at least knew who the major players were in any given area, if only to avoid hunting grounds.”

A familiar pain pulsed dully just beneath Evan’s breastbone. Yeah—that certainly was something covens did for their members. Witches who had people looking out for them, watching their back.

Witches who had people who loved them and wanted them to be safe.

He shrugged one shoulder, stuffing another forkful of pancakes in his mouth to delay having to come up with some kind of lie to explain why his (non-existent) coven had left him to wander into what had turned out to be a goddamn vampire murder rave.

God, he hoped Max had died quickly. Why hadn’t the idiot just listened to him?

His stomach twisted at the thought of his roommate. They hadn’t been especially close or anything—more acquaintances who shared a space than actual friends—but he certainly hadn’t wished any harm on him. He set the half-eaten pancakes down, his appetite suddenly fleeing.

Kinard sighed suddenly, running a hand down his face. “Evan,” he began, and Evan’s eyes snapped up at how…gentle…his voice suddenly sounded. “You don’t have a familiar. And I know that’s a fake name on your driver’s license.”

Evan went very, very still. He felt frozen, pinned beneath the vampire’s dark gaze, stripped bare and exposed. His breath caught in his throat, and he took an involuntary step backward. Kinard did not straighten from where he was leaning up against the sink, still just staring at him.

“I don’t care why you were banished; I’m not interested in the details. But I also know the fact that you still have your magic makes things…complicated.” Now, Kinard took a step towards him, still keeping the island between them, but closing the distance. “My coven master thinks it’s too complicated. That it’s too much of a risk to keep you here. But it’s also too risky for us to let you go. I don’t know if your banishment would affect how the local covens feel about me drinking from you without sanction, but the Southern California high coven doesn’t really like me being in LA. Do you see where I’m going with this?”

Kinard couldn’t keep him prisoner. And he couldn’t let him go.

Evan’s heart started to pound, cold sweat breaking out all over his body. He clawed for his magic, a sinking despair flooding through him when he felt how weak and dim his power still was. Kinard took another step towards him, rounding the island.

“My coven master ordered me to kill you,” Kinard said quietly, and Evan’s brain tripped over the fact that he sounded regretful. Actually sorry. “But—”

Evan knew he wouldn’t be able to overpower Kinard. He knew he wouldn’t…but goddamn if he was going down without a fight. If this was how he went out, he’d make the vampire work for every goddamn fucking inch, and he’d go to his grave knowing he fought as hard as he possibly could to keep his promise to his sister. He threw out his hand, summoning every scrap of his magic as the fire spell leapt to his lips.

He saw Kinard’s eyes widen, as if he was actually surprised that Evan would try to use his magic against him.

The familiar rush of power swept through him, weaker than he was normally capable of, too weak to get him out of this, he knew, but he had to try. He had to. He felt the fireball leap to his fingertips.

And fizzle out.

For a heartbeat, an eyeblink, a breath, he could only stare at his hand in stunned disbelief. The spell didn’t miss. It didn’t collapse. He didn’t lose control of it. His magic…his magic had dissipated.

His magic refused him.

How…

The panicked thought skipped through his head and was gone. He had another heartbeat to shift his focus to Kinard just as the vampire seemed to fucking vanish from sight. He knew, intellectually, that vampires were faster than humans. That the older they were, the faster they could be. But between one breath and the next, the vampire was across the distance that separated them, at his back. An arm like an iron bar closed over his throat, the other one trapping his own arms at his sides, holding him still. He thrashed uselessly in the vampire’s grip, kicking and clawing as the arm tightened on his throat, restricting his air as Kinard simply lifted him off his feet.

“Evan…Evan! Stop. Stop, I swear, I’m not going to hurt you! I swear. You have to—goddamn it, kid, don’t make me choke you out. Please, just listen!”

Evan hauled in a gasp of air, still thrashing like a fish on a hook, a sickening mix of fear and rage scattering any thoughts of spells he might cast. He waited for the pain of fangs in his neck, and when it didn’t come, he felt somehow more panicked, damn near hysterical as he struggled in Kinard’s grip. “Fucking…do it!” he choked out. “Just…just get it…over with!”

Incredibly, he heard Kinard sigh wearily right next to his ear. The arm around his throat eased off just slightly, just enough that the black spots that had started to dance across his vision receded. “I don’t. Want. To. Kill. You,” Kinard enunciated slowly.

His grip was tight, unyielding. But not bruising.

He wasn’t draining Evan dry. He wasn’t throwing him across the room, or pinning him to the wall, or choking him unconscious or any of the hundred things Evan wouldn’t be able to stop him doing right now. He had—impossibly, unbelievably—not done a single thing to contradict anything he had said to Evan since he first woke up.

Evan’s magic had refused to attack him.

Slowly, the fight slipped out of him, until he was hanging limp in Kinard’s grip, his chest heaving, so damn confused he felt as if the entire world had flipped upside down. He felt Kinard’s arms hesitantly loosen, letting him back down onto his feet, slipping from around his neck. The vampire took a slow step away from him…and he made no move to summon another spell.

“Why?” Evan asked, his voice so quiet even he barely heard it. Kinard stepped around him so that they were face to face again, and Evan was surprised to see the same kind of confusion he was feeling dancing in the vampire’s eyes.

“I…don’t really know,” Kinard admitted. “But I’m not going to kill you. I can’t.”

“Then what are you going to do?”

Kinard tilted his head, looking him up and down, and then shook his head, shrugging slightly. “I guess—I guess I’m going to let you go, Evan.”

Evan’s head snapped up, surprise racing through him like an electric shock. Kinard seemed almost as surprised as he was by what had just come out of his mouth. His brow furrowed, and he shook his head again.

“You’ll have to leave. LA, at least, but you should probably get out of California. Or at least head north. This city is about to get very uncomfortable for our kind. But I can only let you go if you leave this place entirely.” Kinard appeared to be thinking out loud, the plan literally forming as he spoke. Evan could only watch, his jaw dropping with each word the vampire said.

Let him go?

Kinard was going to let him go?

“Also, fuck’s sake, be more careful about who you take jobs from. Vampires like Gerrard love using those temp agencies to funnel victims right into their homebases.”

At that, Evan startled. “The temp agency didn’t know it was a fucking vampire den,” he blurted. To his surprise, Kinard gave a short bark of laughter.

“Oh, whoever booked you there absolutely did. Probably on Gerrard’s payroll. What, you think it was a coincidence that every single person they staffed was young, broke, and lacking pretty much anyone that’d file a police report on them?”

Evan’s mouth worked soundlessly for a moment, his eyes going wide in shock. “What…but…but no. No, that’s impossible. Jonah knows I’m a witch. He—he’s a witch, he wouldn’t…he’s been helping me!”

It was Kinard’s turn to reel back in surprise. “Another witch booked you for that party?” he asked in disbelief.

Impossible. What Kinard was implying was impossible. Jonah had helped him, had been helping him for a couple of months now. Booking him into the best jobs he could find, helping him build a resume. He’d been trying to talk Evan into enrolling in community college or online school or something…trying to help him find some stability. Jonah had realized early on that Evan still had his magic, and what that meant for the terms of his banishment—but he’d never pushed Evan to talk. Never tried to pry or figure out where Evan had been banished from, what he had been banished for. He didn’t even know Evan’s real name. Jonah couldn’t be working for the vampire that had been in charge of that party. He just couldn’t.

“Jonah Greenway. He’s…he’s my friend. He doesn’t care that I’m banished, never asked questions…he, he, he wouldn’t…no, he wouldn’t have—”

This time Kinard surged toward him, grabbing him by the shoulder before he could even think about flinching away. As before, though, his grip didn’t hurt, didn’t feel threatening at all. The surprise and disbelief on his face melted into something else. Something more.

“Evan, wait,” he said, a weird intensity in his eyes that made Evan nervous.

Well. More nervous.

“Wait…are you telling me a witch in Athena Grant’s coven booked you into that party?!”

[stvrlightt69]

Tom Riddle~Tear you apart

!!SMUT!!

"i wanna fucking tear you apart"~Tear you apart,She wants revenge

this is part of a series i have started called slytherin one shots inspired by songs on tiktok :) also my tom riddle one shots will mainly be set in his normal era not as mattheo's brother.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Tom Marvolo Riddle, also know as 'my lord' to his group of followers,had recently become infatuated with a girl. He was bewildered when he realised he felt something for this girl but if anyone knew then it would be the end of his intimidating persona,or so he thought. Everyone knew Tom was planning something, something monumental he couldn't ruin his plans now. He couldn't have people thinking he was weak because of some girl.

He thought that this girl, y/n, was fascinating though, she did not throw herself at him like other girls, he liked that, it was almost a challenge for him to earn her attention. Everyone knew Tom was planning something, something monumental. This little 'crush' was driving him mad. He had to do something.

Y/n knew of Tom she had heard the whisper's of the girls who had practically been throwing them selves at him. She thought he was good-looking but she would never admit that to anyone.

✧.*✧.*

One day, Y/n was in the library studying for the defence against the dark arts test tomorrow. She was quickly interrupted by a tall figure standing right in front of her. She lifted her gaze up towards the mystery man's face. Tom, of course it was he has been lurking around every corner, hallway, room that she's been in. He had been discreet,or so he thought. Every time she saw him, felt him looking at her across the room. "Do you need something?" she asked. "I simply just wanted to talk to you." "About what, Tom, you have never needed to talk to me before." "Just a simple question." She hummed at this signalling for him to continue. "Would you accompany me to hogsmeade this weekend?" She was taken back by his question, is this why he had been stalking her? He wanted to ask her out? Why her, he had so many other girls to ask. She thought about it until she remembered he was still standing there, "Um, sure Tom." "I'll meet you outside of the Slytherin common room on Saturday then." "Okay."

What the fuck just happened she thought, she's going on a date with the Tom Riddle, or at least that's what it sounded like.

✧.*✧.*

It was Saturday, Y/n had been getting ready for the last two hours, a lot of effort for a girl who doesn't fancy Tom.

She finally had finished getting ready, said her goodbyes to her dorm mate and made her way to the common room.

Tom was astound by Y/n walking into the common room, he thought he was going to explode with thoughts of bending her over one of the tables right there and then. He was broken out of his thoughts by her voice."Hey" "Hello, you look rather divine."

"Thank you, you look also look rather ravishing."

He hummed in agreement, possibly she could not tell what he was thinking, he was very hard to read.

After they made it to the three broom sticks, they got immersed into conversation, who knows what about.

Then Tom stopped y/n mid sentence whispering in her ear "I wanna fucking tear you apart.". Y/n was taken aback by this as what they had been taking about had not been like this. She had also never had a boy talk to her like this before. She looked at him, eyes wide, mouth slightly ajar, before she said "What!?" "You heard me."

✧.*✧.*

It was all a blur until she suddenly she realised she was back at hogwarts walking with Tom to his dorm.

As soon as they got to his dorm y/n was pinned against the wall. He looked down at her and said "Are you going to be a good girl for me." She nodded in response. "Use your words,y/n." "Y-y-yes,sir-r" She stuttered slightly nervous for what was about to happen but also extremely turned on.

He ran his large veiny hands, that y/n didn't seem to notice before somehow, down her sides down to her thighs. At the point she was soaking through her panties. Tom noticed her rubbing her thighs together trying desperately to form some friction where she needed it the most.

"I haven't even done anything yet and your acting like a needy little slut." she whined in response, as he kept sliding his hands closer and closer towards where she needed him to touch her. She just wanted him to do something,anything.

"Strip" he ordered. She hurried to obey him. Standing there now naked in front of a boy she thought she would never even talk to.

In seconds he stripped down from his trousers and standing in his boxers a large bulge very prominent. She looked, almost regretting doing so as she stating to thing 'he's way to big'.

He leans in and starts to kiss down her neck,she moans.

He caressed her body making chills erupt from her skin, he started biting on her neck making a surprised yelp come out of her mouth.

He looked up at her "Are you okay?".She nodded trying to suppress a whimper. "Do i have to remind you again,y/n,use your words." "Y-y-yes."She whimpered. "Please,carry on." She almost started begging she was so desperate to be destroyed by him.

"If you say so." He got back to biting at her neck as her whimpers filled the room.

"P-p-please Tom." she moaned out. "Please what,what do you want me to do."

"Please just fuck me,wreck me."

Instantly his boxer joined the pile of clothes on the floor.

Her eyes widened once again, looking at his length.

He slowly pushed his self against her dripping folds, as a loud moan erupted from her.

He slowly inched himself inside her, making her let out little noises that had him groaning. Once he was fully settled inside her, she began to move her hips trying to get the friction her body was telling her  it needed.

He noticed this and started to move slowly at first then getting more and more rough with each thrust. Her loud moans started to fill the room along with his groans.

His left hand slowly made it down, his thumb started circling her clit making her gasp. Before she knew it he was pounding into her, hard and fast. It felt so good but at the same time she didn't know what to do with the sudden pleasure.

Her hands try to find stability, your eyes rolling back as she gasps.

"UGH"she cried hands grabbing onto his back, nails scratching leaving small marks on his back.

All she could think about in the moment is how good he was making her feel,

She began to get closer and closer, legs tired, voice sore, and mouth agape.

She started to feel a knot in her stomach.She was almost there.

"I'm gonna cum." She screamed out.

"So am i" He groaned.

All at once the knot in her stomach exploded into a feeling she had never felt before, as she came he did to. Their moans filled the room.

✧.*✧.*

They continued to go to hogsmeade and do the same routine every weekend.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

didn't really know how to end this and also this is my first time i've ever wrote smut before hope you liked it😚

[droppingpetals]

posting this again bc i still need these . i am here to beg for some new partners over on discord . i have a few very specific plots i'd like to do with my girls , they've all been written out as m/f but could easily be spun into f/f plots too , the point just being that i get to use more of my girls for once ! i've written them all out under the read more - button <3

𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒 if any of these plots interest you and i'll slide into your dms <3

CONTENTS : crime and mafia elements , gentleman's club , forbidden relationship , long pining , jealousy , sneaking around — give me a plot with a man who works for some sort of crime ring and he's been put in charge of running one of their estates . said estate is a strip club used for money - laundering and whatnot , where he manages to fall for one of the new dancers . give me feelings of jealousy when she's up on the stage , having to sneak around because it's not good for business , finding any and every excuse to spend time together . alternatively a stripper x customer plot . preferred fc for this : kaya scodelario , but open for others .

CONTENTS : period drama , forbidden relationship , affair , sneaking around , neglected housewife — literally just give me a lady chatterley's lover plot . a neglected housewife in whichever time period we choose to do it in finding comfort in someone who works around the estate . her husband is too busy with business to notice her , probably doesn't even care about her . cue a hot affair that turns into proper feelings , he's jealous when she has to return to her idiot of a husband each night when he could treat her much better . making plans of running away and starting over somewhere else . suggested opp for this : jack o'connell , henry cavil , tom hardyl .

CONTENTS : motorcycle club , freshly out of prison , opposites attract , right person wrong time , exes to lovers , affair — high school sweethearts . being a part of an mc is all he's ever known and she's always been okay with that . together since they were fifteen , she's always been supportive of him until something goes wrong and he takes one for the club , ending up in prison for _however long we want_ . she can wait for him or she could move on , already in a new relationships several years later when he finally gets out . cue a hot cat and mouse game when he wants to get her back , she doesn't know what to do because she has a new life but he is her first love and she never really got over him . perhaps they even begin an affair behind her new partner's back , he's desperate to win her back and she's torn between ration and love . open with fcs for this one .

CONTENTS : rock'n'roll , in love with a rockstar , savior's complex , toxic relationships — music artist x his assistant . her traveling with him for tours and attempting to keep everything together behind the scenes due to his issues , she’s pioneering / directing everything since he is often too inebriated to do so and often finds herself questioning why the fuck she is even doing so much for him . at the end of the day it’s because she believes in him so fucking strongly and she's so in love with him , it's one of those hot and cold relationships where one moment he’s pulling her on his lap or into make out sessions in hotels and on the tour bus and the next moment he’s acting as if nothing ever happened . it’s a disastrous back-and-forth playing with fire situation but she just can't let go and he's too stupid to realize what he's got . credits to original poster lavendertonicrps . open with fcs for this one .

some other more loose ideas with no proper plots around them :

friendship where the line between friends and lovers is constantly blurred , one is more smitten and in love , whereas the other thinks it's all just fun and games .

this mafia plot .

this plot based on redeeming love .

this plot based on forever my girl .

any exes to lovers trope ever .

[witchlyboo]

Definitely, maybe.

Part four: The one who loved you first.

Introduction. Part 1. Part 2. Part 3. Part 5.

Paring: Latina!reader x Logan Lerman x Tom Holland x Ben Hardy x Timothee Chalamet x Pedro Pascal x Michael B. Jordan

Warnings: Implied smut and mention of +18 content, angst??? language, misspellings, and me learning how to write properly. Spanish words, is that a warning?

Word count: 7k

a/n: All body type and skin tone friendly. You can also enjoy it as a no Hispanic reader. I'm a slow writer, what can I say? but I hate short chapters so you can take your time to read this and it'd be like different parts (?) all constructive feedback and misspellings correction is welcome as always. Thanks to everyone that pushes me to keep writing through messages and posts, this is especially for you.

“I don’t think you mentioned my dad yet.” Evan says jumping happily holding your hand. You told him not to bring it up outside the apartment but he’s too excited of hearing about your life and since he looks so happy, you let him win, you always do.

“What makes you think that?”

“It's not Logan because you never stay with your first love, everyone knows that. Ben isn’t like dad, he’s too... I don’t know, he sounds stupid.”You laugh and nod unwittingly, happy that you described the story well enough for your son to catch the essence of the characters.I don’t like Timothée and I don’t know much about Tom. I think you’re keeping him to the last moment to confuse me.”

“I’m not saying anything but people change, I changed, and the person your father was, is not who he is today. You have to be cautious with the details, young Padawan.” You argue caressing his hair softly.

“None of them sound like dad, I don't want them to be him.” He sounds sad for a brief moment, but get distracted by the sound of a dog so you don't worry that much.

“Have a child rocks your entire world, I used to be awake all night, drink a lot, I didn’t like kids, hung out with dangerous people, and I didn’t care for anything that wasn’t me” You start enlisting, not mentioning certain substances you don’t consume anymore... Except for special occasions. “The moment I got you in my arms I became better, and the only thing I cared about was you and I'm sure daddy feels the same.”

“I think you try to distract me because I found out your plan.” You groan audibly but don’t say anything else, he’s too smart for your own good and any other clue might be too revealing. “You kiss Timothée, Ben is outside the town, what happened with Tom?” You sigh not being sure if you are ready for all the stress that comes with this part of the story.

“Tom is one of those things that have to get worse before getting better.” Bad, terrible, horrible, devastating but better. Eventually.

Timothée’s hands slowly go up to your thighs until he finds the border of your underwear. Are you wearing nice panties? Omg, you wish you are, you remember having just two pairs of clean underwear, the black, small, thin fabric that’s not particularly nice but is ok to set the mood on and a white high rise brief with red hearts that you bought as a joke because you thought they looked like the ones the cartoons have, but you wore them and now you love how comfortable they are, that’s why you keep them for those days you feel especially emotional or when the perfectly normal ones are waiting to be washed. Like today, fuck.

“Wait!” You break the kiss and stop his cold hands under your skirt. He's always cold, chilly thin fingers that caress your skin like a cold shower on a summer day, you like it, something in the way you shiver every time he touches you is mystical. He looks at you with confused and urged olive eyes so adorable that you can't help but smile.

“What?” He says squeezing your thighs and giving you small kisses all around your jaw and blurring your mind in the process. You haven't slept together, yet, these daily twenty minutes make-out seasons are all you have of your frozen fantasy only existent in his trailer and nowhere else. A snow globe experience.

“I think we should stop.” You murmur leaning back a little to make him stop kissing you and to watch him, you're sitting astride over his legs on his makeup chair, you started doing his hair but something in between got you distracted and know he is half-dressed and half well... that'll take more than the five minutes you have before the call.

He stops his movements and straightens his back, you feel his grip on your legs ease off. “What’s wrong?” He asks taking his hands out of your skirt and hugging your waist. You know your request is confusing after you’ve been making out for the last twenty minutes, you locked the trailer’s door and unzipped his jeans but the idea of him seeing your ridiculously comfortable underwear is just unacceptable for the safety of your self-esteem.

“Nothing, is just that this trailer isn’t romantic at all.” That would have been a good excuse if this were the first time you get this intimate, but it’s not.

“You humped my leg on this exact chair two days ago and now this trailer isn’t romantic enough?” He asks with a mocked face and you just blush like an idiot. Since the first kiss you had everything changed completely, you passed from hating every cell of his existence to jump into his arms at every opportunity, touching, caressing, biting, and yes humping, all slowly increasing for the last days before shooting and college. You’re not proud of the way things came up but maldita sea, his lips are so damn good and there’s a gentleness on his movements that fix some of the scars of your dented spirit. “It’s ok if you don’t want to do it but don’t lie to me.” Another thing you discovered about Tim is his habit to take everything extremely personal and due to his background, you’re not surprised. He starts fixing his clothes and you find yourself stopping his movements with your hands, no one could tell since you don’t have a bulge to announce how much you want him as he does but you do.

“I don’t want you to see my... calzón” The word ‘panties’ doesn’t sound appropriate to that monstrosity.

“Your what?” He asks scratching in his poor Spanish until something connects, he couldn’t help but burst into laughs when he remembers the meaning. “Underwear? Now I MUST see it.” He tries to raise your skirt fighting with your hands not really pushing them away, just playing.

“I bought it because I thought it was funny, is not what I usually use, I swear, your head would explode just to see me in my regular undies.” You're obviously joking but something deep inside of you wants to believe it.

“Then, since is my first time I'm relieved that you're not using them” He carries you from his lap and sits you on the makeup table in front “May I?” He asks with his hands on your thighs, begging with his eyes for your permission to disturb your dignity, and you agree, obviously, there's not much left to protect anyway.

He lifts your skirt to see what you're hiding, you can see in his face he's fighting to not laugh and thanks for his incredible acting skills he manages not to but that doesn't fade the red of your cheeks “I love them” You whine and laugh in a mix of emotions while he kneels in front of you. “No, I'm serious, I think it's lovely, it's my new favourite piece of cloth you have worn, and you know I love that Powerpuff Girls jeans.” Now he laughs but it's not mockery, his laugh is as warm as his hands can't be “In fact, let me show you how much I like it.” He whispers while his face slowly gets in the middle of your legs.

↬☀︎︎

You have been drawing nonsense lines with your finger on Tom’s back for the last half hour, Contemporary Art is your least favourite subject, you love the concept but the class is absolutely horrendous, slow and you find it very pretentious to decide what is art and what’s not, that’s why you usually spend this class texting Tom, playing some notebook game, laughing and showing memes to each other. The only reason you survive to this class is that is one of the few you share with him since you study different careers.

People constantly ask you why you choose Arts and not Fashion Design as a degree, and the answer is as simple as ever: Commitment issues. Even when you know costume design is what you love to do the most, you're not sure if you want to do this for the rest of your life, you know you want but you're not sure if you will, and that's why you want to have all your choices on your hand.

Tom has been especially moody these last weeks, silent, absent, as if he has something inside that is slowly killing him but can’t tell, and feels like is killing you as well. He and Sheep are the only people you share everything with but she's busy with the new boyfriend and Tom ignores every intent of communication you have.

“Want to go to the apartment? I have a day off.” You tell him putting your things in your bag when the class ends, not that you actually wrote something. That's how your conversations with him have become, he shamelessly ignores you, you try to make a move and he cuts you right off.

“No, I have something.” There it is. He said so fast and without the courtesy of look at you.

“Really, what is it?” You ask not even trying to hide your annoyance, he seems to notice because his tone is softer the next time he speaks.

“I have to pick something for my mom and then send it to her, there’s a lot of traffic and it’ll probably take me the whole day.” He responds clearly lying, not sure where to look at and stuttering.

“I can go with you.” But you already know the answer before he says anything. He declines your offer, says something like a goodbye, and simply walks away.

“Don’t take it too personal, he’s been like that for a while, there’s this girl he got obsessed with and nothing else matters.” Your classmate interrupts your internal agony talking behind you. “I think she sneaks into his room because he's there all the time.”

“So he's not doing something for his mom?” You ask not truly believing what he says, Tom tells you everything, what he thinks and feels 24 hours per day, well, he used to until a few weeks ago. Why would it be different if he has a girlfriend? Unless she's a witch suckling his soul, time and doesn't want him to see you, but you don't think that's the case, Tom wouldn't do that to you... Right?

“Probably not, but you tell me, I thought you were close.” He ends with a mocking smile and gets out of the classroom leaving you with a bad taste in your mouth. Why does this random extra in the movie of your life knows about the mysterious girl and not you? This is a poor written script, it needs more secondary characters.

You see Tom walking outside the building through the window and an impulse pushes you to run after him, not sure why or how but you want to know if the girl thing is true, or if he’s into something deeper and darker. Is your responsibility to look after him as he has done for you since day one. Even if the cost is violating his privacy? Absolutely.

After a few minutes of chasing him at a prudent distance, he enters the dormitories building as the creepy guy from class said, but that doesn’t imply anything, doesn’t mean he’s lying to you. Your phone rings with Ben's face showing up on the screen, a sign from the universe to respect Tom’s decisions and go to your own place with a precious blonde man who promises to satisfy all your fantasies. Then why are you running after your best friend?

Tom’s door is half-closed, which means that he’s open to visits or is waiting for someone, something like it, you just lived in the dormitories for three weeks so you don’t fully understand the system, you just know that he’s not doing something for his mom. You try to see through the tiny crack of the door but you can’t see or hear anything, maybe you should wait at the end of the corridor in case his date comes, you just want to see her, make sure your friend is actually lying to you and then perhaps make a scandal, you haven’t decided yet.

“Look what the south wind brought, Miss Latin America!” Suddenly an annoying voice from behind interrupts you from your espionage mission, Ezra Spencer, the man that tried multiple times to take you out but doesn’t bother to remember which country you’re from. You jump at the sound of his voice and turn around to find his stupid face smiling at you.

“Hey!” You force a kind expression and start to walk away from Tom’s door but it’s too late, the British boy appears behind it clearly surprised to see you there and unnecessarily nervous.

“It’s been a long time since I saw you, I wanted to invite you to my calendar but no worries, you are still on time to be Miss November, sited on a pumpkin with a scarecrow costume…” He starts laughing and you make a disgusted face but you don’t have time to say what you’re thinking because Tom is softly pushing you into to his room holding your arm.

“She’s busy being sexualized by another mediocre photographer, fuck off Ezra.” Tom closes the door with you two inside, he even put the safety on, making clear to your mutual friend that he is not welcome.

There are painful seconds of silence, you hiding your hands in your sweatshirt and looking at your own feet. This wasn’t part of the plan and now you have to explain why you’re there after he told you he wouldn’t.

“What are you doing here?” He asks after what seems an eternity and clears his throat because his voice sounded too weak.

“I came to see Janice, his boyfriend wants me to make a wardrobe from a play he’s making.” Very solid and detailed lie, you’re proud of how fast you thought of that. “Why? I’m disturbing you? interrupting something?” You don’t know why you feel so hurt, the mere idea of Tom lying to slip away with some random girl gives you nausea.

“Interrupting?” He asks folding his arms, his body is trying to protect himself of something, of you. You can see he’s as troubled as you, even more.

“You seem mad that I’m here.” That’s true but you’re inside begging he denies everything and hugs you, your need for his touch is a disturbing surprise, he never touches you expecting to go further and the lack of that kind of attention makes you missing him harder.

“Don’t be ridiculous.” He murmurs and sits on his bed, he seems calmer now but dries the sweat of his hands on his thighs, he’s so easy to read to you and that’s why you are so worried, he can’t even see you in the eyes. “Fine, I don’t have to get anything for my mom, I wanted to be alone and I didn’t want to be rude, that’s all.”

“You’re lying, you been avoiding me for weeks, I know you visit Sheep when I’m not there, I know you turn around every time you see me at the corridors, I understand if you don’t want to be near me anymore or if there’s some girl that feels uncomfortable with us being so close” He looks at you with shock but you keep talking surprising the tears “But there’s nothing I hate more than lies.” You take a stress ball from his desk and press it a little “Let’s play the truth game, want you? I start, I actually came here to spy you” You throw the ball at him and he catches it with a confused face “Your turn.”

He stays still for a few seconds and then sighs. “There’s no some girl.” He assures and returns the ball to you, for some reason that answer calms you a little.

“I hate your old cologne, the new one is pretty good though” You raise your eyebrows but he doesn’t seem surprised, just chuckles when you threw the ball back.

“I changed it because Sheep told me you hated it.” He stands up and gives two steps to you, at that distance he could easily reach you but throws the ball anyway. You’re not sure how to take that confession.

“I hate how you’re treating me lately.” Your eyes water a little but not enough for him to notice, you return the ball and he catches without looking at it. “And I miss you.” You finish dancing a little over your feet to take the anxiety out.

He stays quiet again, but way longer than before, a dead silence that vibrates in your ears and makes you want to jump from the window, the way his eyes are desperate to tell you something but his mouth doesn’t is painful to watch. “There’s a girl.” He finally says, the game is over, the ball falls from his hand because you don’t care to catch it.

“I knew it” You claim and intend to walk away but he interrupts you giving a step in the direction you were about to go to, not sure if he has permission to touch you.

“But she doesn’t want me the way I do” That’s enough to stop you, and see the agony in kindest eyes that ever looked at you. “And I want her so much. Sometimes it can be almost too much. It can be so painful.” He gives another step and your heart is trying desperately to escape from your chest, you feel so little and fragile that it feels like a possibility. “And I only exist when she says my name.” He gives the final step, now the air between your bodies wouldn’t be enough to one breath, you're shaking and the number of emotions can’t let you decide what you’re actually feeling.

He closes his forehead with yours not fully touching, just enough to feel the warmth of his soul emanate from his body and enter in yours. “I only exist when you say my name.” He whispers clearing any doubt, he’s talking about you. He holds your cheek with one hand, touching you like never has ever before, that simple touch is more meaningful than any night or furtive moment you had shared with Ben or Tim. “Please say my name.”

“Thomas…” You don’t say his name, it is pumped out of your heart with the rest of the blood that keeps you alive, in a whisper, with the rest of the phrase missed on the course. You really wanted to say something, you must, your best friend is opening your heart to you and the only thing that appears in your mind is how grateful you are for always mask some gum after your classes so you can have good breath.

“Thank you” He answers finally breathing after your not sure how much, and you know it because his breath enters in your mouth before he kisses you, deeply, loving you with his lips, saying between kisses all you saw on his eyes before. Your hands find their path to his neck, the one you hold to stay standing and he hugs your waist firmly.

It wasn't a hungry kiss full of passion and bitten lips, he was showing you how much he means what he said, taking his time to savour the sweetness of your cherry gloss. You can feel him holding himself back for the way his fist clench in your sweatshirt and his breathing accelerate quickly.

Your phone rings again and as a reflect you slap his ear jumping in surprise, he grumbles in pain while you search your phone in your backpack just to see Ben's name again, something that absolutely sets off the mood. Mood? With Tom? That’s not possible.

“I forgot how strong you can be” He murmurs still rubbing his ear and you just realize what you were doing and the panic incarnate inside you like venom, so, clearly, you walk away like a scared rabbit. “No, wait! We need to talk.”

“I know, I just need some time” You reach the door and open it ready to disappear but he's already next to you holding your arm trying to stop you from leaving, you can see the panic in his eyes thinking that he screw up your friendship or any bond with you and you want to say something to calm him down but the words were stuck in your head not able to put together a coherent phrase “It's ok Tom, we'll talk about it tomorrow.”You give him a soft smile to show him that you're not mad at him.

“Why do you have to run away at any conflict sign?” Ouch, even when it's true you don't want to be questioned about your defence mechanisms when you are in the middle of one “Can you just...” Your phone rings again but with it in your hand, Tom can clearly see the name and picture of the sender. “You're leaving for him.” He says frowning severely and tighten up the grip in your arm, not enough to hurt you but it's disturbing.

“No, I'm going home, running away from conflict” But you hide and silence your phone anyway. Why are you feeling guilty? You don't owe him anything. Is clear that he doesn't believe you, especially when his hand in your arm doesn't loosen a bit. “Would you please let...”

“Fine, sorry. Fuck, you can leave, we’ll do this tomorrow.” He doesn’t seem too sure but he knows you so well to tell that keep pushing you is not leading anywhere.

↬☀︎︎

“What are you doing here?” Ben is waiting for you outside the apartments door, handsome as ever but with some kind of mournful robe over. You feel like you were being chased by your Christmas ghosts.

“You’re ignoring my messages and it’s New York, I thought you were dead” He gets closer to kiss your lips but you move your head and ends with a kiss on your cheek, you're not sure why you did it but kiss two different people in the same day, even in the same hour is overwhelming. “What's wrong Pinky Pie?”

“I didn't have a good day Ben, I want to take a shower and sleep before starting the mountain of homework I have, maybe in a few days when the dust settles...” The door opens when you turn the knob but your way inside is blocked by his arm in front of you and his proximity to your ear, in a common day, with your feet on the ground, that would've been enough to shrink your stomach but right now you're somewhere else. “That's your bad boy move? If you want to hit a wall please hit Merissa's, she’s a terrible neighbour.” You look at him with a mocking half-smile but you don't find the same. He looks… hurt?

“Why are you ignoring me?” He asks taking his arm off your way but not the rest of his body, he's barely taller than Tom... But you definitely shouldn't be comparing them in any way. “You don't answer my texts, don't get my calls, and is like the twentieth offer to hang out with me you decline.”

“Don't be ridiculous” You mumble entering the apartment and leaving the door open for him to do the same, there's no sign of Sheep or his importunate boyfriend being there so you don't have an excuse to pass that conversation to another day. “You know I have a million things to do, there's not any actual reason.”

“You've been like this since I told you the friends thing.” He affirms walking inside and closing behind him, is the first time you see him like that, serious, with a lack of funny presumption in the face.

“I'm not a teenage girl with a broken heart that's throwing a tantrum because his crush used her to have sex. I just really want to sleep.” And cry probably, with no special reason, who needs any?

“Broken heart?” He asks with a troubled look, actually worried about what he thinks is a confession.

“I said that I don't have it. Are you even listening?” You don't really understand what's happening with him. Why is he here anyway? Everything feels like a clouded dream, but you're fully dressed and all your teeth in your mouth, that's how you know you're awake.

“Then why even mention it?” You have the feeling of having this conversation for the second time. Someone complaining about the lack of attention and the other denying the obvious. The difference is that you’re not that close, you’re just one of his many friends.

“Because you’re freaking me out! We were supposed to keep this cool but you’re here acting like a jealous boyfriend.” You don’t really think that, you understand the betray feeling of being ignored, even when there’s nothing more than a friendship, but you’re not thinking clearly and maybe the idea of commitment would make him uncomfortable.

“What if I am? Whatever I said doesn’t mean I don’t want to be with you and I don’t care about your life. Fuck, you make me feel like I used you and now you’re doing some kind of revenge.” You know he appreciates you, he told you some of the most intimate things of his life and you did it too. Once you stayed awake all night talking about your favourite childhood movies, the age gap wasn’t an impediment for it since you like old movies as well and at the end of that call, your cheeks hurt thanks to how much you smiled. That was before the thing he said and Tim… and Tom.

“I'm not, but I can't just give my whole free time to someone that thinks of me as one of many.” That was surprising, frightening even. Until a few seconds ago you were sure you don't resent him for what he said but your mouth gesticulated words that didn't pass by the security station in your brain.

“Then there's a reason.” Apparently, it is, fuck. Jealousy isn't a common feeling in you, and to be honest, doesn't fit you, you don't want to enforce the concept of toxic Latinas who makes a scandal for minimum things. Is not jealousy, of that you're sure, but if that's so, then what is it?

“That's not what I meant” But you can't elaborate (not that you have much to say) because the door opens with Tom behind with a tough face and you just want to throw yourself out of the window (again). The last time those two were together was incredibly awkward, with all you know today, is a hundred times worse “Hey.” You say, you know, like an idiot.

“Hey.” He simply responds but is not looking at you, a battle of green and brown eyes is taking place in your kitchen, Ben doesn't seem to appreciate have his only time with you in weeks being interrupted, Tom can see that and takes his time to walk to you and whispers softly in your ear before leaving. “I'll wait in your room.”

“I guess your homework just arrived.” The blonde male in front of you has a tense jaw, and something in the way he's clenching his fist makes you give a step back.

“We have some unfinished issues that apparently can't wait until I've had some rest.” You explain like it means something for him.

“So do we” He says just standing there with wounded animal eyes that threaten to break your heart, that's why you look down at the ground with a growing feeling of guilt. “But I don't want to do it like this” He walks to you slowly, hunting, with a deadly seriousness that'd be scaring if he weren't that pretty. When he's a couple inches from your face you see him smile again, with the scent of tobacco filling your senses. “I get it, I wouldn't want to kiss you either if a just fucked another girl” You want to explain yourself, defend the honor you're suddenly so worried of but he doesn't give you space or time to do it. He kisses your cheek and hurries his way out the door. “You better answer my next call.”

What is that supposed to mean? But he's already gone so you decide it is problem of the future you, the one that is smarter, more mature, and luckily takes better decisions. You look at your dom room and take your time to go for it, yes, you were the one that wanted to talk about this but because you thought it was a jealous girlfriend thing. If you had the information you have right now, you wouldn't be so afraid to open your own door.

He is sitting in your bed but he's not as worried as before, there's some mix of resignation and confidence in his eyes, someone that can't lose something never had. You close the door and he throws a sock to you, a clean one, at least.

“Truth game 2.0, I ask something, throw the sock, you answer, ask something and throw it back. Are you dating Iván Drago?” He asks comparing Ben with that character from Rocky lV, and you laugh like it is another day of fun between you both, however, you take your time to think.

“No” You hear him breathe again and when you return the gaze to him, he's smiling at you. There's a lot of things you want to ask but not know how, or you do but you feel like it's another mission from your future you. “Would you stop talking to me if I was?”

“No” He answers immediately, not even thinking but the smiles fade away “But I don't think I could survive it again. You have to throw the sock.” He announces avoiding elaborate on his answer, it's obvious he's talking about Logan.

“That wasn't my question” cheater, you hear him mumble but doesn't do anything about it. “Why were you avoiding me?”

He sighs, catches the sock, and plays with it to kill some time.

“The day I was going to ask you out on a date you introduce me as your best friend to the lovely med student with a nice car. I know how the best friend role goes, I've done it a million times and was ok with it but I can't do this again. Not with you” Those words were meaningless to you, inside your irritation there's no space for an acceptable explication for his behaviour but you don't interrupt him.”A year later and you were free, sad, moody, and with no energy enough to exist but you still were my girl, I mean, the same as before. And I thought that if I give you enough time to take him out of your mind then it'd be a good moment for us, but again I waited too much and you found someone who spend time with” He is trying to find the correct words to not disturb you in any way. “But now I'm glad you did it because you're not sad and you have that shine in your eyes back. I'll always want the best for you, even when that's not me.”

“Answer the question” You insist again throwing an empty can of Diet Coke to his head, but he catches it before it hits him.

“I thought that if I was away from you long enough you could stop thinking of me as a brother and more as a...” But he doesn't finish his sentence, and you're sure is because he doesn't know how.

“A selfish asshole?” You are not sure how to act right now, how to be a proper human again, this is something you definitely didn't expect, and if he's saying the truth and he wanted to date you since you dated Logan, it's been a long journey. But you can't be that blind, can you?

“A friend! Someone that you don't feel that strange to date.”

“That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard.” You claim walking around the room with folded arms, it actually got sense but is mean. If hurt you to have what he wants from you is a price he's willing to pay then you don't know him as you think you did.

“Is it? because I'm sure that before the space I gave you, you would punch me to death if I dare to kiss you.” Not that tragic but now you can’t think what you would do because all the situation is different, you miss him too much but you're not sure if this is the way you want things to happen, and the truth is you don't love him that way.

“It was cruel and evil, you can't force me to miss you to take advantage of that and come back as the men of my dreams. Cabrón engreído, no puedo creer que me hagas esto” At some point of your long walk around the room he corners you with your back on the closet and he in front, he was so smooth and slow that you didn't notice until he talks again.

“Is a very bad moment to tell you that it really turns me on when you speak Spanish?” You punch him on the shoulder and even when you see in his face that it hurt, he doesn't move away. “I know it wasn't the best plan ever but please. Do you have an idea of how hard it was for me to see you with them? Your new Ken is bearable but Logan was torture, the way you looked at him, how your entire body language changed when he appeared. I couldn't go through all that again, that would be the evil thing to do. At least I wanted to know if you are able to do all those things with me.” He holds your hands and joins his forehead with yours, and you allow it because you need his closeness too and you don't have the heart to push him away.

“What if I can't?” You murmur in a delicate sound you're not sure if he catches but you know he does, by the way his eyes close and his lips press. But after a long pause, he answers.

“Then I'll be your best friend again, ready to see you with all of those guys over and over” He opens his eyes again to see you, and something in them makes you know that he really means it “Even if it kills me.”

Now you regret to call him evil, he's not, is a fragile human with feelings that can be broken, like yours, and at the end of the day you can't keep doing what is correct for the rest of the world, you are the exact example of that, you have done it hundred times, no matter the cost. But he accepted to do it for you anyway, that takes a lot of love to have.

You wonder if someday you could feel something that strong.

“Now what?” You ask truly wondering, this is unknown territory, usually when someone likes you, you know what to do, if is reciprocate, you can kiss, fuck or whatever the terms are, and if is not, you kindly decline the offer, you’re not the kind to give false hopes.

This is not reciprocated; it didn’t take you much time to realize that. But there’s something in the way he looks at you that remains you of another feeling, one that you believed was faded away. Being loved. Is it too bad to be loved without love back? Is it too horrible to just accept without giving? The warm touch of his hand traveling along your arm to your cheek sotfed you and for a little moment, you feel you deserve it. You know you don’t.

“I'm not sure, I've only had you this close in my dreams” You try to fight but you finally smile, a gesture he imitates, and suddenly the situation seem less tragic, more natural, like the eclipses the ancestors thought were the end of the world, but knowing of its existence, it’is even beautiful.

“And what do you do then when you have me like this?” Look at you, flirting already. You're going to regret this tomorrow on Monday when Timothée tells you how much he missed you or when you answer Ben's call to listen to all the dirty things he wants to do to you, but you like that, right? You're an attention eager, that's why you broke up with Logan because it wasn't enough for the rest of your life. Wow, is it sexist to slut-shame yourself? Stop it, you're enjoying yourself, there's nothing wrong with it, you don't hurt anybody... yet.

A glimpse of light appears in his eyes but you can't tell what kind because he cuts the space between you both in a kiss more intimate and passionate than the first one. His hands are full of you, one holding your wrist firmly against his and the other traveling around your back, not sure what to do with all the freedom you gave him, his caresses are clumsy and awkward, lost like a dog that finally catches his tail, what's the next step? He finds his path when he takes the back of your neck and pushes backward slowly to discover your bare skin, that's the place where his lips start the fire, one that starts where his kisses touch and spreads to the rest of your body, is like he knows the exact positions of your sweet spots, like if he had studied and planned it multiple times until he prepared the perfect routine.

His free hand finds your leg and puts it on his hip, beating the record of how close you have been for the third time this day. You can feel his bulge, although that's a very vague way to say it, his state is dangerously hard and you can only be there at the moment, a clay dough being sculped by his prodigious hands.

His breathing is heavy, and the speed of his heart is bumping violently against your chest, you can tell how much he wanted this, how desperate he is for your closeness, you didn't need any other proof to that but he gave it to you when a heavy groan escaped from his throat and his whole body tensed for two different reasons. Did he just...?

He hurries to go to the other side of the room looking at the window with his hand holding himself to the wall. You should say something, something comforting. It's ok, that happens all the time. No, that sounds slutty. I didn't know this was a race, but you won! Haha, no, but you mentally high five for that. He's standing there trying to get his regular breathing back, and for the tension of his back you can tell he's mentally struggling too. Say something, it's been twenty long and grievous seconds, say something, say something, please say something, anything, a word, a cow sound. And then, your phone rings again. Thank God!

“Sorry, I need to take this, is my boss” Which is true but at this moment even an unknown number would be an important and unmissable call. You get out of the room and hurry to hide in the bathroom, where you can finally breathe again “Hey, Mr. Chalamet.” You say when answering not sure why, and now you feel stupid, being formal after the way he ate you out this morning is senseless.

“Are we playing Mr. and Mrs. now? I like it, I thought that the whole señorita thing is so burned out already. But I'd like Papi, oh God, can you call me Papi right now?” What's going on? Why can't you have five minutes with a normal and casual conversation with a male specimen?

“Ummm, this isn't a good moment, Tim. Can I call you later?” Or not, that's also a good option.

“Right, no, I want you to come to a party with me, is to celebrate the end of the shooting, an exclusive actor thing. I thought you would like to meet some people from the media and maybe slip away a couple minutes with me in the middle.” He sounds really excited like this isn't something he does every weekend of his life and some of that thrill sticks to you, it actually sounds tempting.

“Can I bring a friend?” You immediately think about Beth and how much she would love to go with you, and maybe you wouldn't feel completely out of place.

“No, sorry, pretty bunny, it's a really private thing, I'll get in trouble just taking you there. But what do you say? Tomorrow at 10?” He doesn't sound sorry and you don't appreciate the nickname but you decide to go on anyway.

“Sure, I'll be ready.” You hear something about what to wear and stuff but you hung up before he finishes because you're worried Tom thinks you're there hiding from him, and even when that is unintentionally true, you really don't want him to feel bad.

But when you open the door, he's gone.

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

Taglist:

@eridanuswave @cjand10 @deluxeplanteater @rorodendra @leviosatothestars @coxxxxxpi

Sorry if I can’t tag you, check your settings:(

Thanks for all the love and support, if you have opinions, suggestions or you want to be part of the tag list (Or don’t want to be part anymore) Let me know, I appreciate every message.

[allegra-writes]

"Bright blue ripples"

Mob!Tom Holland x Reader

NSFW

Warnings: Smut, rough sex, overstimulation, dirty talk, master/sir kink

Just a little blurb cuz I can't get this scene out of my head 💦

"Light of my life, fire of my loins

Be a good baby, do what I want"

Off to the Races - Lana del Rey

"Say it, baby girl" Tom cooed softly against your ear, voice calm and sweet, like he hadn't been torturing you, pushing you to the brink of insanity, blurring the line between pleasure and pain, for almost two hours now. 

As if he wasn't buried balls deep into your tight heat, fucking you raw. 

But no, the bastard wasn't even winded. He was completely under control, as always.

It was unfair.

"Say it, come on" He insisted, "Just three little words, and it'll be over. Just three little words… and master will let you come" 

You dug your fingertips on the sun warmed skin of his shoulders, his back, holding on for dear life as he kept on slamming his hips against yours, railing you into the pool wall. 

You opened your eyes in an effort to clear your mind, to focus on something other than his big cock, thrusting inside you so deep and so hard, that you were sure he was bruising your womb. The bright blue ripples, glistening under the afternoon sun, that he was creating around the both of you with every move, caught your eye. That was exactly the way he was making you feel: wave after wave of pleasure, crashing, growing, amplifying inside you, until you were swept away in the riptide. Until it was hard to breath, useless to fight. You were just too exhausted for that, the only option left was surrendering. 

"I'm sorry, sir" You sobbed, "I'm so sorry"

Tom leaned back, fingers tilting your chin up to look into your hooded eyes and you realized he was only using one arm around your waist to hold you up. It shouldn't amaze you anymore, how strong he was, but it did.

"See, I don't think you are" He tsked, slowing down his movements again, making you whine in complaint, "sorry that you're being punished, maybe. But not sorry for what you did…" 

"No, please, I'm sorry" you begged, "please, sir, let me come"

He chuckled. He loved seeing you like that, his little hellcat, his cold, proud ice queen, reduced to a docile, pleading little kitten. And he was the one to do that to you. No one else but him could tame you, could satiate the hunger within you. 

"I'm not being cruel because I want to, baby girl" Tom explained, thumb brushing away the tears you hadn't realized were falling. "I have to make sure to ingrain the lesson inside that pretty head of yours: Fire is messy, dangerous. I don't want you playing with matches anymore…"

You pouted, petulantly,

"But fire is fun!"

Your boyfriend's face fell, as you realized too late exactly what you had done.

"Did you just "but" me?"

Horrified, you opened your mouth to deny it, to defend yourself, to say anything, but a single stern look from his deep brown eyes was enough to shut you up. His grip around you tightened, as he carried you to the shallow part of the mosaic studded pool. A whine left your mouth as Tom slid out of you and placed you on your feet, the water reaching up to your waist.

"Strip" he ordered, pointing at your white bikini, askew and covering nothing at all already, but you guessed whatever plan he had, he didn't want anything in the way. 

"Lay back, I want you to float on your back" he continued, once your bathing suit was off. You obeyed once again, eyes never leaving his face as he walked around you, disturbing the waters. He seemed to consider for a moment, before grabbing hold of your hip, guiding you closer to the edge of the pool. 

"Hold on" 

Once again, you submissively did as you were told without questioning it, reaching back and grabbing onto the sand colored tile. 

Tom let your hips go, but kept his hands on you, trailing soft caresses from your collarbone, down to your breasts, tearing a moan from your lips when his blunt fingernails catched on your over sensitized nipples. 

"My pretty little girl," he hummed, approvingly, "like it when I play with your pretty tits?"

"Yes, sir"

He cupped his hand under the water, only to later bring it to your chest, watching the droplets fall from his palm to your soft mounds, to the valley between them, catching the sun, glimmering on your skin. 

"My precious girl…" Tom praised, circling you to step back between your legs. He never stopped touching you, massaging your calves, your thighs, stopping a breath away from where you needed him the most.

Your weak sigh made him chuckle,

"Want something, princess? Want me to touch you here?" His index finger finally traced your slit, gathering your wetness, different from the water surrounding you, playing with you, breaching your entrance just a falange, only to withdraw and flick your clit instead. 

"Like it when I play with your pussy too?" He didn't really expect a reply. Luckily, because you didn't think you could have formed words, as he used his index and middle finger to penetrate you at last, wasting no time in searching for that perfect spot inside you that made you see stars. 

"God, look at you… you're so wet, don't even need lube for this. Juicy little cunt" 

He stroke his big, fat cock once, twice, before using the same hand to help guide himself inside you. Without removing the fingers from his other hand. 

You cried out at the feeling, the fullness. He was stretching you to your limit, tearing you in half.

And you fucking loved it.

"You can take it, can't you princess?" It wasn't hard for Tom to realize your cries and sobs were of bliss, "My perfect girl can take everything I give her… Fuck! Taking it so well"

You couldn't have replied even if you had wanted to, you were in ecstasy, weightless, floating, soring. Helpless to the tsunami of sensation as Tom started thrusting again, slow and measured, careful of not hurting you. He was close to bursting himself, but you were his priority, fingertips never stopping rubbing against your g-spot, as your screams grew higher and louder. 

"So fucking tight… my baby needs stretching"

You whimpered. His breathy voice as he talked filth to you was always your undoing.

"So tight… gonna milk me so good…"

He could see the muscles of your entire body starting to lock, "Gonna come for me, baby girl? That's it… you can let go… come for your master" 

You didn't even realize you were holding it until he gave you permission to let go, but when he did, you came immediately, hard, every cell of your body exploding into a million sparks. 

Oxygen deprivation at just the right time could do that to you. 

"Shhhh, you're safe. I got you" Tom's voice was the next thing you were aware of, as he held you close to him with both arms, all of his skin against yours sending you to overdrive as he kept on rocking inside you.

You locked your arms around his neck and legs around his waist, urging him on to go faster and harder. 

"Baby…"

"More" You demanded, "Come inside me… please sir, I want your come"

He growled against your neck, but complied, moving you up and down his shaft, using you to get himself off. 

"Want you to come for me again" He gasped. You shook your head,

"I… I can't"

"You can and you will" His voice broke no arguments as he squeezed you against him tighter, pelvis grinding against your clit. 

"Tom… please, no"

"Oh yeah" he moaned against your ear, "my baby girl has to learn her lesson" 

Your head was too muddled, too confused to decide if you wanted to get closer to the pleasure or further from the pain, but in the end it didn't matter, you were too weak to push him away, anyway. 

"Good girl… isn't it better when you stop fighting? When you just obey?"

You nodded your head minutely, all the answer you could manage, but it seemed to be enough for him. A couple thrusts later, and he was bitting down on your shoulder, releasing deep inside of you, the pulsing of his cock against your overstimulated entrails sending you into climax again.

On shaky legs, he carried you to the steps of the stair of the pool before collapsing on them, with you on his lap.

"God… that was…"

"Amazing" You finished for him, placing a soft kiss on his sweaty forehead. His replying smile was nothing short of ethereal. 

"You were incredible, babe"

"Well, you weren't half bad yourself" Your chuckle died in your throat, as you saw his lips fall. You followed his eyes to the transparent film dressing covering half your right arm, where the gasoline had splashed your jacket and caught fire a few days before, when you had gone against his orders and burnt down the Collucci's place instead of waiting for the boys. 

"I'm sorry" You said, sincerely, "I'll wait for reinforcements next time. I won't act alone again, I promise"

"I know you won't" He deadpaned, "You are off the field for a month" 

"What?? No! Tommy, that's too long!" You complained. He only smirked,

"Don't worry, princess" The mischievous glint in his eyes foretold trouble. For you. "I can keep you entertained until your punishment is over…"

[mostly-marvel-musings]

Hi, Thor with make up sex prompt

Miss J - Part 1

A/N: We love angry jealous, make-up sex always! Thanks for this request.

Pairing: Thor x Reader

Warnings: 18+ angst.

Word count: 1400+

Requests & Challenges

Thor Odinson Taglist – @raspberrymama @bitchycherryblossomlove @jennie22feona @innerpaperexpertcloud @thorfanficwriter @darklydeliciousdesires @longlostinanotherworld

Everything Taglist – @godofplumsandthunder @ladyacrasia @agustdowney @swaggysposts @littlegasps @suchababie @another-stark-sub @supraveng @kahlanmars @disappointmentofthefam @pandaxnienke @tom-hlover @just-the-hiddles @fyreball66 @asmigurub @avantgardium-leviosa @imerdwarf @gladiosamicitias @fanofalltheficsx @ladyburberry @chickensarentcheap

Tags are open folks!

.

You couldn’t care less about the formal affair though. All you wished for was to kick those uncomfortably high heels off, pull on your favourite pair of sweats and cry yourself to sleep, like you’d been doing for the past week.

A week of the big green monster of jealousy trapping your rational self in its ugly tentacles. A week of drowning your sorrows in alcohol and ice-cream, wallowing in your misery.

Agent Hill had a small mission lined up for you tomorrow which you thought would be a welcome distraction.

Getting a few good punches in and kicking a few arses would definitely help the pent up anger to fizzle out.

.

“Allow me to introduce you to the world-renowned astrophysicist, Jane Foster.”

You smiled politely and shook your current live-in boyfriend’s ex-girlfriend’s hand, whom Thor had introduced you to with such pride and delight.

It was supposed to be a quiet dinner date at your favourite place when Jane showed up with Eric Selvig and Darcy, spotting Thor immediately because it was obvious not to, in any given situation. Cordial exchange of pleasantries later, Thor thought it’d be a good idea for them to join you at your table.

You didn’t mind, not at first anyway, somewhere around your second drink of the night, it got difficult to keep up with the conversation. Not being a part of the ‘gang’ felt like high school all over again.

You tried your best not to let it show, even made attempts to join in them reminisce old stories but it was proving rather difficult. There is only so much one can take, so by the time dessert arrived, you had retracted back into your shell. The only person who showed genuine interest in you the entire night was Darcy.

Needless to say, the ride back home was silent. You didn’t see the point in bringing it up with Thor since you knew he wasn’t at fault, not really, he was too kind and seeing his old friends had made him happy. You didn’t wish to spoil his evening, even if it meant your pre-planned date was.

.

Days turned to weeks as your mind pushed away that incident and chose to focus on other things. Thor knew something was up, but didn’t bring it up, assuming you would be over it.

There wasn’t a mission to keep you busy but an upcoming Stark party you were looking forward to.

An easy evening with your boyfriend and the team with great food was something you needed. Little did you know it would turn into a dinner party from hell.

The Avengers Compound was abuzz with polite chatter, dignitaries and fellow colleagues dressed in their finest, enjoyed an elegant evening of expensive aperitifs and exquisite hors d'oeuvres.

You arrived alone after Thor mentioned he had to pick something up for the party and had left the house early. That ‘something’ was actually a someone you were hoping to never run into.

Jane Foster.

A pleasant conversation you were engaged in with Steve was cut short when they arrived, standing too close to each other before she took his arm and walked in.

“Are you okay, (Y/N)?”

Steve frowned, following your gaze until he understood the cause of your reaction.

“What does it look like?”

He raised his hands up before taking your empty champagne flute and going over to the bar for a refill while you took a few deep breaths to keep calm and regain your composure.

“There you are, my love.”

Thor’s warm greeting failed to warm your heart as the man wrapped his arm around your waist and pressed a chaste kiss to your cheek.

“Here I am.”

You managed a small smile, eyes flitting between the two of them as if waiting for them to make some announcement.

“I thought you’d gone to pick up that bottle of scotch we wanted to give Tony.”

“I was going to, but then Jane suggested we try this different one and I think Stark will appreciate this more.”

Thor showed you the bottle they had purchased but you didn’t give it a glance, you were busy glaring at the man who’d preferred her choice over yours.

“Oh (Y/N), Jane is being considered for a Nobel prize in astrophysics for her study of the Convergence.”

Thor beamed down at the woman before meeting your glare that quickly got replaced with a faux grin.

“Congratulations.”

“Thank you (Y/N).” Jane smiled at you kindly.

“If she wins, which I’m certain she will, I have offered to accompany her in Sweden to receive the award.”

“Oh.”

“O-only if you’re okay with it.” Jane interrupted, quickly catching on your reaction to his statement.

“Why won’t I be okay? Looks like Thor’s decided everything by himself. Excuse me.”

You hurried to get away as fast as you could, not really sure where you were going, leaving Thor frowning after you and an exasperated Steve Rogers holding your drink in his hand.

The bathroom seemed like a good idea to collect yourself or let a few angry tears escape, you chose to do both.

Thor was standing right outside the door when you stepped out, arms crossed over his velvet-blazer clad chest.

“That was rude.”

“Are you serious right now?”

“You march in here with your ex hanging on your arm, buy a gift of her choice and then tell me you’re planning a fucking holiday trip with her!” You snapped, not bothered about causing a scene at the party.

“Don’t raise your voice here.” Thor warned but you were too pissed off to even listen.

“Don’t you fucking tell me what to do! This was supposed to be a nice evening with the team, you and I were supposed to spend time together but I see you clearly prefer her company over mine.”

“There is no reason for you to be this angry, my love.”

“Maybe you’re too blinded by Miss Brains over there to notice. Have a good evening.”

You glared at the man one last time before storming out, more angry tears spilling from your eyes and blurring your vision as you walked out.

.

Back at your place, you had showered and changed into your sleepwear, all while glancing at the wall clock every now and then, waiting for Thor to get home and apologise.

Leaving you alone with your obsessive thoughts was never a good idea, Thor knew this. You’d always assume the worst and get self-critical.

You were making some chamomile tea to calm yourself before bed when Thor knocked on the open front door before stepping in.

He found you in the kitchen, hunched over the counter with your back facing him. He could tell you had been crying, your choice of pyjamas was always the same when you were upset, a loose-fitting T-shirt that once belonged to him and your comfy shorts.

“What? You didn’t drop Jane home?”

Thor was expecting you to be this upset, he didn’t see anything wrong with the decision before Steve pulled him aside and opened his eyes.

“Look (Y/N)—”

“Do you not want to be with me Thor?”

Your voice cracked in the end as you spoke, still not facing him.

“Why would you even think that, my love?”

“Oh I don’t know. When you walk hand-in-hand with your ex at a party meant just for the teammates, when you spend an entire evening laughing and chatting with her and her friends on what was supposed to be our date night? When you decide to go to Sweden with her to celebrate her achievements?”

Thor stared at his feet before cautiously walking closer to you.

“I realised I was wrong, if you’ll forgive me—”

“Maybe you should get back with her.”

Your statement made him stop in his tracks, his heart shattering as you finally turned around to face him.

“What?”

“Clearly you prefer her over me. Who am I next to the great Jane Foster? I don’t get nominated for Nobel Prizes, I don’t have all those fancy degrees..”

You said bitterly, crossing your arms over your chest while Thor remained silent.

“I realise I’ve upset you, my l—”

“I think you should leave.”

You murmured, turning your back to him once more.

“Please don’t do this.” He begged.

“You should go with her, Thor. I think we have a lot to think about when you get back.”

We need these two to fall in love again. Help!

[justthehiddleswrites]

Accidently Married | Tom Hiddleston x OFC | Chapter 1 |  Living Well is the Best Revenge or Just Trip Her on the Red Carpet

A/N:  Tom makes certain comments about an ex (who is unnamed).  It is a fictional girlfriend, take from it what you will.  Keep your hate to yourself.  

SERIES MASTERLIST HERE

Pairing: Tom Hiddleston x OFC (Molly Bishop)

Summary: Tom is stuck in a news cycle from hell; Molly is stuck in the dead end job of bartending with a pile of student and credit debt.  Tom has an idea to solve all their problems.  Get married, get the paparazzi off his back, divorce after a year and Tom pays off Molly’s debts.  Tom has everything figured out, that is until he sees Molly as more than a just a friend and so does someone else.  In this vying for affections who will win, the handsome Brit or the boy from Boston?

This Chapter: Tom is in Vegas to present at a music awards ceremony and what do you know his high profile ex girlfriend is nominated for two awards.  And the press are having a field day.  Molly Bishop is grateful for the awards show because it means extra tips and getting her closer to paying off her student debt.  An offhand comment by Luke coupled with an encounter with his old girlfriend has Tom’s mental wheels turning.  Perhaps he and Molly can solve each other’s problem.  All they have to do is get married.

Warnings: fake marriage, smut (vaginal sex), mentions of:  child abuse/neglect, foster care, substance abuse, cheating.

TAGLIST IS OPEN! PLEASE LET ME KNOW IF YOU WANT TO BE TAGGED!  THANK YOU FOR READING!

--

Tom dreaded turning his phone back on when the plane landed at McCarran airport. He knew what waited for him on the other side. Tom wondered if his publicist would buy the story he left his phone back at the bar in Heathrow. Probably not, he had tried that earlier in the year and Luke went ballistic until he came clean. He did not want a repeat of the earful he got back then. With a sigh, Tom switched on his mobile and shoved it into the front pocket of his jeans, vibrating as messages and emails came in.

Tom never imagined the relationship would end like this. He thought he was in love. He thought she was in love. But it had all been what were the words she used “escape hatch”. Tom had been a means to an end. And the punishment for his naivete was a news cycle that would not die. And that photo.

He waited until he was in the car on his way to the Bellagio before checking his messages. There were a series of several text messages from Luke.

Call me when you get to your hotel room.

Don’t read the papers.

Don’t talk to any reporters.

Don’t do anything until you talk to me.

Tom pinched the bridge of his nose underneath his sunglasses.

“Fuck!” he hissed under his breath.

This meant only one thing. Another story. Maybe more pictures. He shouldn’t have been surprised. After all, she was attending the same awards show. It ventured to guess the papers would play that up. Tom slumped against the car seat for the rest of the ride.

Check in went fine at the VIP check in. One perk of not only being a celebrity, but a presenter at the awards show. The bellhop delivered Tom’s luggage and garment bag. He pulled the outfit for tomorrow and hung it up, just like Illaria told him to. It was only when he flopped onto the sectional couch, Tom called Luke.

“I’ve been waiting for your phone call.” Luke deadpanned. “I started to worry you would pull that ‘I left my phone at the airport bar’ story.”

“I did cross my mind.” Tom let his head hit the back of the sofa. “Do I want to know?”

“Not really.” Luke winced. “They used the photo again.”

“Of course they fucking did!” Tom punched a nearby pillow. “I look like a twat. Luke, I need this to stop.”

Luke sighed. “Until something comes along that is better than this, expect it to hang around for a while. Unless you are planning on getting married in the next two days.”

Tom chuckled darkly. “Not bloody likely.” He sighed again. “Thanks for everything Luke.”

“It’s my job, mate. But you’re welcome.”

After Tom hung up, he stared first at the phone in his hand and then at the ceiling. He wasn’t sure how he got here, and he sure as hell didn’t know how to get out. Tom decided instead to wallow in self-pity and eat a ridiculously expensive room service steak.

-

Weekends were always busy when there were special events over at the MGM arena. This weekend was no exception. And while it may not be good for Molly’s back, her bank account greeted every penny with a smile. Vegas may be a cheap place to live, but it still costs money. And her college did not accept IOUs for student loans. She shoved more tips into the jar behind the bar and helped the next person.

“What’ll be?”

“Whatever you have that is strong and on tap.” Tom’s smooth voice cut over the din of slot machines and video poker machines.

“Coming right up.” Molly poured him a beer, and he signed the receipt with his room number before sliding to the end of the bar.

Three hours later, Tom still sat at the end of the bar, nursing the same beer. Most of the crowd dissipated at this point. Celebrities needed their beauty sleep. Or at least most of them.

“Would you like to switch that one out for a cold one?” She leaned over, smiling. “On the house.”

“Sorry.” Tom blinked and glanced around, looking for a clock Molly imagined.

“No clocks.” she commented. “Or windows.”

Tom’s brow furrowed. “Really?”

“The whole point of casinos is to keep people inside. Clocks and windows help people realize how much time has passed.” Molly replaced his beer. “The whole place is set up like a maze.”

Tom took a long draw of the fresh beer. “You seem to know an awful lot about casinos for a bartender.”

“You seem awfully forward for a movie star.” she snapped back. Tom’s eyes met yours. She shrugged her shoulders. “I have a friend who works at Regal Cinema, they let me in for free.”

“I’m having a bad day.” Tom muttered back. “You still didn’t answer the question.” He took another long draw, leaving the glass half empty.

“Oh, so we are adding pushy to your resume. I thought Brits were supposed to be charming. If you must know, I have a Bachelor’s and Master’s in Tourism from Arizona State.”

Tom opened his mouth to comment, but Molly cut him off.

“Funny thing about the tourism industry. You need experience to get a job, but you can’t get experience without having a job. Classic catch-22. Which does not pay my bills. So I bartend until I get hired somewhere.”

Tom felt like a prize idiot moping about his problems. He cleared his throat. “Apologies for my earlier behavior. I have been in a poor mood for the last several weeks and it has made me a terrible companion and customer.”

Molly smiled at him. The first truly friendly face in a while. “It’s fine. And you are entitled to a bad day.” She filled up his glass. “Once or twice. Share your troubles with me. Unless it is about which supermodel you should date next, then I don’t want to hear it.” she joked. Tom’s face fell. “Oh shit, I’m so sorry. I didn’t…”

Tom held up a hand. “Please don’t apologize. I take it you don’t read the magazines.”

“As a matter of course, no I don’t.” Suddenly a lightbulb went off. “Oh…”

Tom twisted his face into an exaggerated expression. “‘Oh’ is right. Usually followed by the words ‘shit’ or ‘fuck’.”

“And is she…”

Tom drained the glass. “Yep. Nominated for two awards.”

“Yikes! Well, if there is anything I can do, I am here all weekend.”

Tom stood up and left several twenty-dollar bills. “I might take you up on that. Thank you again for the conversation… I didn’t catch your name.”

“Molly Bishop”. she said, clearing his glass.

Tom offered his hand, and she shook it. “Tom.”

“I know.” she leaned in, her dark brown hair falling to the sides of her face. “Remember, you’re a movie star.”

Tom laughed. A real belly laugh. So loud that it jolted the old man at the other end of the bar awake. “I needed that. Thank you again. Have a good evening, day, morning.”

“It’s evening. Goodnight, Tom. Sleep well.”

Tom headed back towards the bank of elevators. He glanced over his shoulder to watch Molly wipe down where he had been sitting, shove the twenties into a tip jar, while tucking her hair behind her ears and help an obviously drunk couple. Tom made a mental note to find her again before he flew back and leave an even bigger tip.

-

Tom woke up the next morning and headed down to the gym to run on the treadmill. He would have preferred running outside but wanted to avoid people. After running five miles, he switched the machine off, wiped it and him down and headed upstairs to shower and change for the day. Tom wandered back downstairs in search of Molly, but the bartender on duty, a guy named Seth, mentioned she wouldn’t be back until the evening. Tom thanked him and headed back upstairs.

He was restless until it was time to get ready. After dressing, he took a selfie in the mirror and sent it to Illaria who confirmed he did it right. Now came the waiting game. Tom wanted to time it to avoid having to see her at all. Finally deciding he had wanted long enough, Tom called for the car and headed downstairs. What Tom forgot to account for was his incredible bad luck.

He arrived right after her and was forced to walk the red carpet, watching her out of the corner of his eye, with her arm linked around whatever man, boy, prey she ensnared for the evening. Tom plastered a killer smile on his face and continued to repeat the mantra in his head “Living well is the best revenge” when all he wanted to do is either trip her or return to his hotel room and eat an inordinate amount of chocolate cake.

The rest of the awards show blurred together into moments of white hot rage masked by a cool exterior and numbness. Thank god for the teleprompter or else Tom wondered if he would have made it through his presentation. But he did and thought he made it through the entire event without running into her and then…

“Tom!” her voice called out.

Tom froze and stiffened. What a difference a few weeks can make.

“Darling!” He spun on his heel to face her, smile firmly in place. He leaned forward and kissed her cheeks. “It’s good to see you. You look good.” he lied through his teeth.

“You too. I thought I might miss you. I just wanted to say—”

Tom waved her off. “Water under the bridge.” Another lie. Perhaps he missed his calling as a barrister or even a publicist. “Your date seems nice.”

She smiled. That smile that once melted his heart. “Thanks. He is. Where’s your—”

“Back at the hotel.” He checked his watch. “Which reminds me, I should head back. Big plans for the night.”

She blinked, and stutter stepped back. “Oh. Right.” She composed herself. “Well, it was nice to see you again. I hope we can be friends.” She held her arms open.

Fucking friends! Tom howled inside his mind. What was she playing at? More fodder for her songs? Tom seethed on the inside. He stepped forward to awkwardly hug her, praying there was no one around to snap a photo. Knowing her, though, she probably had someone in the balcony with a zoom lens.

“Of course, love.” He squeezed her a little too tight until she let loose a small yelp of pain. Tom allowed a genuine smile to come across his face. “I won’t keep you any longer. Enjoy the after party.” He walked away before she could continue on the conversation.

He waited until he was well out of earshot. “Bitch.”

-

The crowd started waning around 9:30 as the awards show let out. Molly figured most of the attendees would hit the after parties and things would pick up around 1 or 2 a.m. Until then, it would just be the regulars. She turned around to arrange the glasses she just cleaned when a now familiar voice rang out.

“Marry me.” Tom asked, his tie loosened.

“I don’t know you.” Molly teased back. “Now what will you have?”

“You as my wife.” Tom repeated, his palm flattened against the bar.

“Be serious.”

“I am serious.”

“Are you drunk?”

Tom shook his head. “Stone cold sober. Hear me out.”

She glanced around, seeing no plausible escape. “I’m listening. But if another customer comes up, I’m walking away.”

“I need something to move the paparazzi off this current news cycle with me.”

Molly smirked. “You ran into the ex. Did she have a new boy toy on her arm?”

“Yes, but that is beside the point.”

“It is entirely the point.”

Tom slammed his hand against the bar, rattling the container of nuts nearby. “Can I continue or are you going to keep interrupting?”

Molly crossed her arms. “Go on.”

“I need something to move the press off this story. You need money. We are the solution to each other’s problems.”

“You may be gorgeous, but if you think I am sleeping with you for money…”

“I never said sex. I said marriage. The last I checked, they could be mutually exclusive.” Tom’s expression softened. “Listen, you are clearly unhappy here. I am unhappy too. If us being together could alleviate a bit of that unhappiness, why wouldn’t we seize the opportunity? We get married. Get the paparazzi off my back. I would pay off your student loans and credit cards. And then after a year of living together, we quietly divorce. No sex. Just a business relationship.”

Molly chewed over what Tom said, while chewing on her bottom lip. He wasn’t wrong, she was unhappy. Vegas was supposed to be a brand new start, but it was more of the same. Dead end job and no career prospects on the horizon.”

“Did you say live together?”

“In London, yes. I have plenty of room. Your own space. You have a passport.”

“Yes.”

Tom’s face broke out in a wide grin. He couldn’t believe this was happening. The blood pounded in his ears and adrenaline coursed through his veins. He looked up at her with his bright blue eyes.

“Will you marry me, Molly Bishop?”

“Yes.” she smiled back.

Tom leaned over and kissed her cheek. “Then let’s get going, because the licensing bureau closes at midnight.”

Molly headed over to the manager, Nick.

“I quit.” she shoved her apron at him.

“What? You can’t quit, Molly. The big rush is coming.”

“You heard the lady.” Tom called. “She quits.”

“And who the hell are you?”

“Her fiancé. Come on, darling.” Tom held out his hand. She lifted up the bar at the entrance and took his hand.

-

The two of you were full of nervous energy the entire cab ride to the licensing bureau, fitting right in with the other couples waiting to get a license. While you waited in line, Tom made some calls to several chapels until he found one open and able to squeeze the two of you in.

“Now all we need is to get you a dress and some rings.”

“Oh!” Molly dug through her purse. “My friend’s kid gave these to me.” She pulled out two plastic rings. “I think these will do in a pinch.”

Tom closed his hand over hers. “I’ll buy us proper rings tomorrow. Now a dress.”

“There’s a mall on the way. I can grab something on the way.” Tom kissed Molly’s forehead.

“You are brilliant.”

“Thank you.”

Within an hour, Molly was wearing a simple white slip dress, Tom still in his suit from the awards show, although he did straighten up the tie. She smiled like a fool, holding onto a fake bouquet and Tom’s wedding ring, complete with a plastic spider in her hand.

Tom slipped on the plastic gem ring when the minister told him to, and she did the same with the spider ring. Tom giggled and so did Molly .

“I now pronounce husband and wife, you may kiss the bride.”

Tom leaned in and pressed a chaste kiss to her lips. His lips were warm and soft. It was… nice. Under other circumstances, she imagined Tom would be an excellent kisser.

Tom gazed down at her. “Hello, Mrs. Hiddleston.”

“Hello, Mr. Hiddleston.”

[t-o-m-hollands]

Chapter eight

Summery: Tom is part of the Firm, a fearless London gang. You knew each other as children, before everything changed. Now your paths cross again.

Pairing: Tom and female reader.

Themes: Mob!Tom, Peaky Blinders inspired, period piece – this is set in 1961, London.

Warnings: Violence, kidnapping, one hit to the head. Smut. I mean, it’s a mob!AU so generally just a lot of talking of murder, fighting and violence. THIS IS A +18 STORY. 

Word count: 5k. Sorry, but this is an eventful chapter so got a bit long. I didn’t want it to end in a cliffhanger so I sort of had to go on a bit

An absolute massive thank you to @plantlungs​ for being an amazing editor and for having the patient of a saint and correct all my misplaced commas and confused word choices. 

READ PREVIOUS CHAPTERS HERE

Recap of the story so far: Tom is part of and working himself up in the Firm; the feared London gang. Its leader is a certain Fabien Towner. After an attack on Harrison it’s clear that they have a traitor in their midst who is also working for the rival gang created by a man called Jack Flanagan. While Tom is trying to bring the attacker in for questioning he meets you; his old school love (and unfortunately for him, the daughter of the home secretary who has spent most of his career trying to put an end to organized crime).  After an interesting night where you end up as a witness for a murder Tom essentially has to kidnap you until he knows what to do with you. Ending up deciding to let you live, and in doing so risking his own life, he lies to Fabien about there being no witness to the crime.  

Some time later you and Tom meet again at the club Romantique, as Tom has gone there to negotiate with Jack Flanagan. You go home with Tom that night and the two of you begin an affair. Fabien, finding out about the affair and of who your father is, is delighted, thinking that he can use you as leverage to the home secretary.  

Not many days later Tom is attacked by Flanagan’s gang, and he flees to your house where you patch him up. He tells you of Fabien’s plan, and asks you to work with him in order to bring the traitor in – the only thing that can possibly distract the Firm’s leader from you. You agree to help him.  

***

All you have is your fire

And the place you need to reach

Don't you ever tame your demons

But always keep 'em on a leash

arsonist's lullaby - hozier

***

You wake with a kiss to your forehead. Opening your heavy eyelids, you’re met with a smile, and a pair of sparkling brown eyes.

“Morning” Tom says quietly. He’s sitting on the edge of the bed, already dressed for the day in his usual suit, hair fixed and the outlining of a gun showing underneath his suit jacket. 

“Good morning,” you respond, voice soft and full of sleep. Sitting up in the soft bed and pulling the sheets around you, you lean closer towards him. Gently you place your hand on his cheek, stroking his skin you feel the faint trace of stubble. He smells of his lemon and cedar soap and faintly of cigarettes. Pressing your lips softly against his other cheek, and then on his jawline,  you whisper against his skin, “Do you really have to go?”

You can tell he’s focusing on his breathing, and as you lean back his dark eyes, glossed over and pupils dilated, are focused on your lips. His own mouth is slightly opened, and he’s leaning in towards you. Just as he’s about to press his lips against yours he murmurs, “Afraid so, darling.” He leans back and winks at you, a devilish smile on his lips. 

“Don’t worry, angel, I’ll give you everything you want soon enough.”He stands up and moves towards the door. “I’ll be back before you know it, just doing some collecting today; shouldn’t be more than an hour. I’ll come back and we’ll have lunch, yeah?”

He’s leaned against the doorway, hands in suit pockets, the stolen Rolex on his wrist glistening in the early morning light coming in through the window. He’s all wicked smiles and dimples and his eyes are gleaming as he looks at you; sitting in the middle of the bed, white sheets pulled around you and hair loose, your skin kissed by the sun streaming in.

You smile back at him and letting go of the sheets you let them fall around you. Leaning back against your elbows you slowly spread your bent legs; looking at him all the while. He’s got his dark eyes fixated on where your spread legs meet. Slowly walking towards you, like a hunter approaching its prey. Reaching the bed he leans over it, grabs hold of your thighs, and pulls you towards him until he’s pressed up against your naked crotch. Leaning over you, hands resting on either side of your face, he whispers in a low voice against your lips, “Such a devious little temptress, aren’t you?”

He leans back and falls down on his knees. Kissing the soft inside of your thigh he bites the sensitive skin, leaving a wet and burning spot, he blows cold air on it and you shiver. He looks up at you, wicked smile in place and eyes sparkling with pleasure. “You could tempt a saint you know?” he says, voice thick with bewildered wonder as he presses his soft lips against your cunt, before licking up your slit, eagerly. “How’s a poor devil like me supposed to stand a chance?” 

***  

There’s a flickering light above your head and the hallway smells of something rotten. The dark medallion wallpaper and crimson-coloured carpet make it feel like the room is spinning slightly around you. 

You’re just about to carefully lock the door to Tom’s apartment, having decided to go home and change before lunch, when you hear a creaking on the floor behind you. Something like alarm bells go off in your head, and you turn around only to be hit with something heavy and sharp right by your mouth.   

A ringing in your ear, and the whole room seems to change perspective, turn on its side somehow. It takes you a second to realize that it isn’t the room that has fallen; it is you. Something above you moves, but you can’t see clearly, just the outlines of a blurred shadow coming closer and closer and a smell you can’t place but is stronger than the rotten smell of the hallway. And then a wet cloth covers your mouth.

Memories of when you were a child, swimming in the municipal pool, flash before your eyes and you can’t understand why.

Only, just before everything turns dark, does it hit you.  

Chloroform. 

*** 

The first thing your mind registers as you wake is a sore neck. A sore neck and a stinging nose and a back that feels uncomfortably stiff. You try to open your eyes but find the world just as dark as when you had them closed. Trying to move your hands you realize that they have been tied behind the uncomfortable chair you’ve been placed in.  

Panic rises like bile in your throat and you want to scream, but the sound refuses to leave your lips, as if the panic itself is blocking it from leaving. Trying to kick your legs you realize that they too have been bound.  

“She’s awake,” someone mutters behind you and you freeze, heart beating so hard in your chest that it’s hard to hear anything but the blood rushing through your system. “Go tell Jack,” the voice orders, and a pair of heavy footsteps move across the floor and soon a door opens and shuts.  

Laying all your focus on your breathing, trying not to hyperventilate, you try to keep in control of yourself, though you can feel sweat begin to form on your forehead. You feel hyper- aware of your own body, of the rope digging into the fragile skin of your wrists, of the hard chair underneath you, of your own mortality and the dangerous situation you are in. You had been in a situation like this before, in a now very familiar apartment in Mile’s End. But even though you had been frightened then, it is nothing compared to the terror that grips hold of you now.

Soon a door opens, and footsteps move across the floor again.  

“Now boys, is this the way you treat a lady?” A deep voice roars in an Irish brogue. “Have I taught you no manners?” The footsteps move closer and closer until they’re standing behind you.  

“You big lads so scared of a girl you need to tie her up?” You hear how the man fiddles with something, only to realise that he’s untying the rope around your legs. Soon you feel the rope loose; but you are too frightened to even try to move them out of their uncomfortable position.   

“Now unless you think this tied- up wench will overpower me, I suggest you get a fucking move on, yeah?”  the man continues, as he frees your wrists as well.  

No verbal answer follows, just the sound of a dozen of boots moving across the floor until eventually, the door shuts; leaving the room in silence apart from your ragged breaths and rabbit heart; pounding so hard in your chest you’re sure it’s clear for anyone to hear.   

Then there’s a sudden movement by your head and then – you can see again.   

Disoriented you blink into the light. The man, Jack you presume, pulls a chair across the floor, the scraping noise almost alarmingly loud to your panicked senses, and he sits down opposite you. Carefully you move your stiff hands from their position behind your back, slowly moving them to your front and placing them on your knees. 

“There we go,” Jack says in a low, gruff voice that tells of years of smoking.  

 He’s probably in his early fifties, with blond hair that has begun to turn white and a neatly trimmed beard. A long scar is etched across his cheek. Wearing a rather worn grey suit he’s leaned back in his chair, looking relaxed and comfortable; the very opposite to how you are feeling. There’s something both harmless and, at the same time, absolutely terrifying about him. He’s almost disarming in his lack of threats, his slow, low way of talking and the patient, curious way he’s looking at you. You can’t get a read of the man, and that frightens you.  

The room you’re in doesn’t help to make you feel more comfortable. It looks like an abandoned old apartment, wallpapers half torn down and a broken chandelier hanging from the ceiling. It’s dark outside the dirty window, and you wonder for how long you’ve been unconscious. An entire day must have passed since this morning.  

“Now girl, you and I are gonna have a little chat about an old friend of mine,” he starts. 

You don’t respond, waiting for him to reveal his hand before you make up your mind about how to play your cards with this unknown man. 

“Now, child,” he continues, “what do you know of Fabien Towner?” 

You’re taken aback at that. Somehow, subconsciously, you must have assumed that this kidnapping by this evident gangster had something to do with your father and his work as home secretary. That you had been picked out to provide information about a man you had never as much as laid eyes on had not occurred to you.  

“All I know is what’s written in the newspapers.” You answer, only somewhat truthfully, since Tom has told you a few things about the feared London mobster as well.  

“Sweetheart,” he chuckles, a deep, throaty sound, “do I look like the sort of man who reads the papers?” He’s smiling at you, though it seems malignant. You are reminded of a cat, playing with its food before it eats it. “I know better than to believe a word that's written in them,” he adds and grins, “after all, they write that I’m a bad man.”

“But alright then, let’s play that game,” he snaps, and the sudden change from almost playful to deadly serious has your heart faltering in your chest. “What do you know of a young mister Tom Holland, hm?” 

If your heart was faltering in your chest before, it positively stops beating now. Your first instinct is to deny your knowledge of Tom’s existence. To say you’ve never heard that name. But you must keep your head cold, be calm and clever. This man knows very well that you know who Tom is, you were after all attacked when leaving his apartment.  

“Not much,” you say, and your voice is frailer than you’d hoped. “He’s just a man I’ve been seeing”.  

Jack’s hard, blue eyes are fixed on yours. He observes you for a while before saying, “You seemed very cozy with him at Romantique. I’m the owner of that club, I damn well know who frequents it, and what they get up to in it.”

It hits you then, and you want to groan at how slow you’ve been. This is Jack, the Jack Flanagan, the owner of club Romantique and Fabien’s sworn enemy, who has infiltrated the Firm with a traitor. 

“Yes, I met Tom there, but I don’t know anything about Fabien Towner.”  

Jack keeps his intense eyes fixed on you, as if he’s trying to read any slight change in your face. He scratches the roughened skin of his scarred cheek almost absentmindedly. “Come on now, I know how young men work when they’re trying to impress a pretty girl. They boast about how big and bad and ballsy they are. He’s told you about his,” and there’s a slight pause and a wicked grin before he continues, “profession, I presume?”

“All I know is he’s part of the Firm,” you say and sniff, “do you think he’d tell me anything? I’m just some girl he fucks. I don’t think he cares at all about me.” Your voice breaks as you speak, and two tears fall down your cheeks as you lie. They aren’t hard to fabricate in your current state of mind. You need to make him believe that Tom would never spill any secrets to you, because if this man in front of you,; his entire aura shouting of danger, finds any hint of the secrets stuck in your throat he’s bound to beat them out of you. 

“Now that’s not a very nice thing to do,” Jack says in a low voice, and a smile spreads over his lips. “How would you like some revenge?” 

Fear holds such a hard grip on your heart then that you are sure it’s bound to stop beating altogether. “What do you mean?” you ask, trying to hide your terror.  

Jack smiles even wider, and something like a shiver moves up your spine. “You see,” he starts in his broad brogue, “old Fabien is not a man of many weaknesses. He’s a, well, I guess you can say a friend of mine. I know him well. I know what makes him tick.” He leans forward, resting his arms on his widespread legs, his intense eyes still fixed on yours. “Now I want him to stop ticking.”

Trying to swallow down the panic you answer in a cool voice, “and how could I possibly help with that?” 

“Like I said, Fabien is not a man of many weaknesses. But he’s got a blind spot when it comes to that lad. I’ve heard the rumours; the Devil’s Boy, that’s what they call him, and that’s the way Fabien sees him. I’ve met Tom, on the night you danced with him in my nightclub in fact. And he's brought up by the devil alright,” he pauses, a grim smile on his face. “In order to get to Fabien, I need to get to the boy. And that’s where you come in, miss. See, Tom is Fabien’s weakness, so I’m gonna need you to become Tom’s weakness.” 

“And how do you expect me to achieve that?” you ask, voice shaking slightly despite all your efforts to keep it under control. You feel like you’re trembling all over, like your very soul is rattling inside of you. Nothing seems real, nothing in this nightmarish scenario or in this strange room; nothing except for those bleak, intense eyes looking at you, and that low, gruff voice speaking of betrayal of the worst kind.  

“You’re a pretty little thing, aren’t you? Like a little bird. I’m sure you could convince him to stick around, to open up; to trust you. Then all this little bird needs to do is fly to me and sing her song, and I shall see to the rest, and you will have your revenge.” 

You feel ice-cold all over, as if the blood itself in your veins have frozen. “And what kind of song does the bird sing? What is it that you need to know from me?” 

“For now, I just need you to make him trust you. When the time is right, when everything is ready to be set in motion, I shall tell you the plan. What do you say?”  

You don’t know if he’s honestly offering you a choice or not, if he’d even let you live if you refused him, but slowly you nod your head, and the smile grows bigger on his face, and his cold, blue eyes sparkle.   

 “Good,” he says, and rises from his chair. “Now it’s time for this little bird to be set free.” 

*** 

Your legs feel unsteady and unsure underneath you as you make your way up the familiar steps to your house. You can hear the car that dropped you off drive away, but you don’t look back, you don’t ever want to look back again but it feels like you will spend the rest of your life looking over your shoulder after this. You feel heavy all over, every limb slowly moving forward underneath the weight, burdened with a terrible secret.   

Letting yourself in, you quietly make your way through the hall, wanting to avoid seeing anyone since that would mean you’d have to explain your split lip and your sore wrists. The skin of your lip pulses uncomfortably. You must have attained the injury this morning as you got attacked outside of Tom’s apartment. 

With quiet feet you move up the stairs to your bedroom, needing only to change your clothes and leave a message for your father to let him know you will be sleeping at a friend’s house for a night or two. You jot the message down in spidery letters, so unlike your normally neat handwriting; your hands refusing to collaborate with you as they keep shaking. You leave the message on your desk, knowing that Mason will find it later and pass the information on to your father. 

You fill the bathtub with water and scented oil, needing to wash the reminders of today off of you before you are ready to face Tom. Quickly ridding yourself out of your dirty dress, you step into the lukewarm water and start the process of scrubbing your skin clean. After having washed up, you change into another dress, feeling great relief in feeling the freshly washed fabric against your skin.

Looking at yourself in the mirror you cannot help but be taken aback at the sight. You have a split and swollen lip, your hair is a mess and your eyes seem bigger than normal; as if you are a frightened animal. Knowing there is nothing to do about the lip you try to smooth your hair, before giving up, deciding instead to pin it up into something a little more respectable.  

In your new dress and hair, you look a little more put together, though your eyes remain frightened.  

Packing a small bag with some essential clothes and hygiene products you creep out of the bedroom, closing the door quietly behind you. Your father’s voice booms out from the library, as he’s speaking on the telephone with someone. Passing the door on your tiptoes, as not to make a sound, a name caught your attention.  

“Yes, Fabien’s boy.” 

You stop dead in your tracks, listening carefully as your father goes on. “He’s been causing uproar in all the underworld. He set fire to a pub in Camden this afternoon, one of Flanagan’s places, and he’s been involved in a dozen fights all over the East End.”

Your breath hitches, but you force yourself to be quiet as your father keeps talking. “No, apparently he’s looking for some woman. A kidnapping they say.” Your father listens as the voice on the other side of the phone speaks before he keeps going. “Yes, of course, but if this means we have another gang war on our hands there needs to be readjustments. 

You walk away, as quickly and quietly as you can, and step back out into the night. Never have you been in such a hurry to find a taxi in your life.

*** 

After having paid the driver, you rush up to Tom’s apartment, all four stairs, never slowing for a moment. You’re not sure of what you’re about to meet in the apartment but as you push the door open and rush inside you are relieved to see the figure of a man standing there.

Only to soon realise that it is not Tom. 

The man is blond, and about the same age as Tom and dressed much the same in a dark suit. One of his arms is wrapped up in bandages. You recognize him as the man who came to pick Tom up the morning after you spent your first night at his place. A friend then, and not a foe. 

He stands up from the sofa when he sees you, and smiles, seemingly relieved. “Thank fuck,” he mutters, moving closer. Standing in front of you, impressive in his length and stature, he observes your wounded face with a frown. 

“Any other injuries?” He asks, voice collected but underneath his calm stature, you think you can sense a wave of anger. 

You shake your head, unsure of what to say. 

He nods, takes a gentle hand on your arm and leads your numb body to the sofa, gesturing for you to sit down. After you have done so he moves across the floor to the phone, his long legs taking wide strides. Dialing in a number he stands there, leaning against the wall, still observing you as he waits for the number to go through.

“Yeah, Harry? It’s Haz,” he says into the phone. “She’s here.”

There’s a loud voice on the other end of the line but you can’t make out what it is saying. “Yeah, yeah, well you need to let him know then, don’t you? Before he causes any more damage.” More silence as he listens to the other man. “No, apart from a split lip she’s unharmed,” and he looks over you again as he speaks, “she looks pretty fucking shaken though so get a fucking move on, yeah?” He hangs up. 

In your wild haze of suffocating numbness, it strikes you how unlike Tom this Haz is, despite your first confusion. His accent is polished and posh despite his attempts to hide it. His back is almost impossibly straight as he’s holding himself upright and his young face looks taut. You wonder how a young man like this ended up within the ranks of the Firm. 

He crouches down in front of you as you sit on the sofa, his knees bent until you are at eye level.  “Have you had anything to eat?” He asks in a soft voice that takes you with surprise. 

“No,” you mumble, only realizing now that it’s the case. But you’ve been so full of terror the entire day you’ve hardly even noticed. Haz has a frown on his face and a worried look in his eyes as he scans you over. 

“Alright,” he sighs and gets up, moving across the room to the kitchen. You keep your eyes ahead, fixated on faded wallpaper in front of you, as you hear clattering and muttered swears coming from the kitchen. 

Some while later Haz is back, a plate of sandwiches in one hand and a steaming mug of tea in the other. “Sorry,” he says, placing it down on the table in front of you, “fucker hasn’t got any milk.” 

You tell him you don’t mind, and thank him for his kindness, before tucking in. Only after having nearly devoured the first sandwich do you fully realize how hungry you’ve been. Haz sits down on the worn leather armchair, leaned forward and resting his elbows on his thighs, hands clasped in his lap. It is as if he’s ready to jump into action on the first sign of danger. He watches as you eat. 

“Hungry, ey?” He asks with a smile, as you swallow the last of your sandwich, reaching for the tea. 

“Famished,” you confess. 

For a few moments everything is silent in the darkened room, only lit up by the dim light coming from the kitchen. Outside you hear a car drive by. 

“How did he know of the abduction?” You ask in the end. 

Haz’s mouth tightens into a grimace, as if remembering something unpleasant. “The landlady saw as they carried you out to the car. She recognized you as Tom’s girl and let him know as soon as he came back.”

“How did he take it?” you ask, with reluctance. 

Haz looks away from you, avoids your eyes; the frown on his face growing deeper. “Let’s just say the boy’s got a talent for destruction when he puts his mind to it.”

“Where is he now?” 

“Well, last I heard he was,” he pauses, edits himself in the search for the right word, “he was interrogating someone in Hackney, trying to find a lead of where they took you,” he sighs. And then in a bitter tone, he adds, “I would have gone with him,” another sigh, “but out of combat, unfortunately. So I was put to stay here and wait to see if you’d return. Harry was placed in the pub, much to his indignation; ever the boy of action, while Fabien made Sam and a few others go after Tom. To try and reel him in a little.”

A bang, and then Tom comes crashing through the door. Harrison is on his feet, almost before you’ve registered the sound of the door slamming against the wall, gun in hand and aiming at the man in the hall. When he sees who it is he lowers the weapon and breathes out. 

Your eyes remain fixed on the man striding over to you. It’s like he’s unable to look away from you and as soon as you get within an arm's reach he pulls you towards him. With a hand carefully cupping your chin, he inspects your face, eyes glued to your split lip, a deep frown on his face. 

He turns to Harrison, who just nods at him; the taut frown relaxing and a smile pulling at his lips. “Alright, that’s me done for the night.”

“Harry’s sulking at the pub if you feel like cheering him up,” Tom tells him, still holding onto you. 

Harrison moves to the door, snorts loudly, and says in a voice that sounds done for, “You fucking Holland boys and your goddamn sulking.” And then he’s out, the door closing behind him.

Tom rests his forehead against yours, breathing slowly. “Hi,” he says, voice a quiet whisper. His fingers don’t stop stroking your cheek for a second. Then, “I’m so sorry you got dragged into this.” It’s a savage kind of remorse, real like a physical presence in the room. To think that on this very morning you had laid in bed, wordlessly tempting him into staying there with you for a while.

You should have stayed in that bed forever with him.  

“Is it not your fault,” you tell him, knowing that it’s useless, and true enough, he shakes his head at the idea. 

 A deep sigh escapes him, as if he’s letting out a breath he’s been holding for a long time. You breathe him in, the familiar lemon and cedar soap; the faint trace of smoke. 

“Tonight I’m going to take care of you,” he says, stroking your cheek with his long, ring- clad finger, “gonna make sure that you’re alright.” He presses his lips softly against your temple. “And tomorrow,” he continues, voice hardened steel now, “tomorrow I’m going to take care of him.”

 “No,” you say softly, looking at the floor.  

 Dead silence wills the room for several heartbeats. Then, voice bewildered, “What?”

 He’s leaning away from you, though his big hands are still covering your jawline, your throat. “You can’t go after him,” you say, taking a slow breath, staring at his shoes. Slowly you take in Tom’s appearance for the first time. When he had crashed into the apartment all your attention had been on his face, but now, now you see the state of him. The once white dress shirt he wore this morning is stained with blood and dirt and the sleeve on his jacket has a burn mark. 

Tom pushes your face up to meet his eyes. Reluctantly your eyes follow. “And why can’t I do that?” he asks slowly, through gritted teeth. 

“Because I’m working for him now,” you say, forcing yourself to meet his eyes. For a moment he goes completely still and before he can react you keep going. “He is going after Fabien, he wants to bring him down. He thinks you are Fabien’s weakness, so he’s hired me to become your weakness. He wants to use you against Fabien, and use me against you. I told him yes.” 

Tom lets go of you, takes a step away from you, looks at you with big, wounded eyes. “What have you done?” he asks, sounding almost defeated. 

“I could play this to our advantage, we could -” but he interrupts you with a roar.

“Have you lost your fucking mind? You don’t know these men! You don’t understand what they’re capable of. They’d enjoy murdering you if it comes to that. Jack Flanagan’s the sort of man that would kill over an insult, do you have any fucking idea how badly he’d take a betrayal?” 

“Don’t you understand?” I am working for him now, just as the traitor does. I can find out who it is and once we know, Fabian will kill the traitor and once he is gone he can go after Jack with full force. We can play them against each other, don’t you get it?”

Tom is stunned silent for a moment, thinking over what you’ve said with a horrified expression on his face. “Does he know, does Jack know who your father is?”

You are silent for a long time, biting your lip in worry. “I don’t know. But I think so. I didn’t have to leave my name or address and they still knew where to drop me off.”

Tom looks pale. His eyes big and glossy as he looks at you, shoulders tense as he’s holding himself together. “I see,” he says, trying to remain calm, “so the two most dangerous men in London are aware of your relation to your father and are both more than capable at using that as leverage if needed.”

“Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that,” you whisper.

And he’s in front of you again, holding onto your face, his body pressed tightly against yours, and maybe it’s imagination, but you think you can feel the drumming of his heartbeat underneath his chest; can feel your heart drum back to the beat of his. He’s breathing hard, slowly in and out, and his strong body is rigid, every nerve tense. You know that he’s trying to calm himself down; trying to get a hold of himself and all his fear and anger. Can feel it radiating off his body in waves. 

“I can do this, I can play them against each other.” You don’t know why you are whispering, except that maybe you want to make something in this whole situation gentle, in any way you know how. 

“I don’t like this, angel,” he says, his voice also a whisper, as he breathes slowly through his nose. “I really fucking hate this.”

You know that the road you have begun walking is a dangerous one, no doubt full of menace and doom. But you have chosen your road. “I know,” you whisper back, “but it’s the best shot we’ve got.”

You know, as you stroke his cheek, that you would do anything for him. Because it turns out that you are made up of the kind of never yielding devotion that is bound to end in tragedy, but as you look into his sad, brown eyes, tender as they look at you, you wonder if he isn’t made of the same. 

[morizoras-cave]

Trespasser (Request)

Tom Holland x gn!teen!co-star!reader, Jake Gyllenhaal x gn!teen!co-star!reader

Genre: angst, fluff

Request Description: tom holland x teen!costar!reader and jake gyllenhaal x teen!costar!reader (or just one of them lol) where they're at the red carpet for the premiere of their new movie. suddenly, a fan sneaks onto the red carpet and inappropriately touches/attacks the reader. tom and jake are super pissed and get super protective over the reader. thank you!

Warnings: harassment, inappropriate touching, creepy dude, language

(A/N): LMAO NOT @ ME FOR ACCIDENTALLY POSTING THIS BEFORE IT WAS DONE EYE,,, anyway this is my first gender neutral post. im very happy to be able to include more people in my fics, and i apologize for previously exclusively having female pronouns :) also thank you to @goblinsbones​ for bringing the whole gender neutral thing to my attention!

“Alright, you’re on soon!” someone yelled from the backstage area. The crowd of fans and journalists was already cheering from behind the curtain. 

You and the rest of the cast of Spiderman: Far From Home were standing in your gorgeous suits and dresses waiting for the red carpet. You had all worked so hard on the movie to give it your all, and it had finally payed off. You finally felt the pride as you stood at the premiere. 

You hadn’t had a huge role in the new Spiderman movie. At least not yet. Kevin Feige, Marvel’s boss and the Man With The Plan™ had informed you, that you small character would be much more important in the upcoming Spiderman movie. Of course, you had to keep shush about that.

Either way, you’d grown very close to the cast. You had first feared that it would be awkward and that you would be an outsider, given that you were quite a bit younger than them, but that hadn’t been the case. 

You and Zendaya basically texted or hung out everyday, you and Jacob pranked everyone together, you and Tom had heated discussion about movies, and you kept Jake informed on Gen Z culture. You loved each one of them dearly. 

“You nervous?” Jake asked. He was looking in the mirror one last time, adjusting his tie. You grimaced and shrugged. 

“A little bit, but I’m okay,” you said, “I’m mostly excited. I can’t wait to see all the fans. I hope I lived up to their expectations.”

“Well, I don’t know about them, but you lived up to my expectations, kid. And I actually know what I’m talking about!” Jake joked and finally turned to face you. You scoffed and giggled. 

“Alright, it’s starting now!” the same man who had yelled before informed, and you saw him scurrying off to a distant corner of the backstage area. 

“I guess we’re doing it,” Zendaya said. She was beautiful as always, her amazing taste in style showing through her butterfly dress. 

First she went through the curtains, the crowd screaming and roaring. You felt a little bit more nervous then, wondering if they would cheer as hard for you.

Then Jacob went through, and then a lady gestured for you to walk through, which you did. A smile immediately adorned your face. The people cheered for you. There were so many smiling fans further down the carpet and the sky was blue and bright. The sun beamed on your skin, as you took a couple of steps down the red carpet.

There was nothing to be nervous about, you realized. It was awesome.

Jake and Tom followed after you, and then began the slow decent down the carpet. First, past the photographers and then the area with the journalists (arguably the worst part), before arriving at the most exciting part. The fans. The long stretch where fans stood on either side, eyes gleaming in adoration. 

You smiled and waved, expressing your joy. Tom and Jake, walking behind you, smiled when they saw your excitement. It was your first big movie premiere. 

You were too caught up in the moment, so happy you could burst, to notice or hear the bustle and yelling happening just a little bit behind you, between you and Jake. 

No, you didn’t notice that at all, not until you felt a hand on your waist and your shoulder, making you jump. The hand kept you from scurrying away, and spun you around the face the person. 

You just assumed it was Jake or Tom or a bodyguard or something. You were wrong. Spinning around you came face to face with a random man, probably 20 or so years older than you. You’d never seen him in your life, and the moment you processed that, his touch on your body felt like a burning, blaring alarm. 

“Y/N!” he yelled over the sounds of the fans talking and screaming. His spit hit your face. You tried to grab his arms and pull them off you, but his hold only tightened. “I’m such a big fan! Please! Please, can you sign my shirt?” 

You were thrashing and desperately trying to pull him off you, every inch of you showing discomfort and disgust with his hold on you, but he seemed oblivious, or maybe he just didn’t care. 

“Get off of me!”

Finally, a hand roughly pulled the man from you, releasing you. You almost fell over, your body hurling away from him. Your vision blurred for a moment, but remembering where you were, you blinked back your tears.

Jake’s hand was digging into the guys shoulder, and you saw the guy twisting in pain. Jake was yelling something, something about “how dare you!” and “what gives you the right to touch them?” His jaw clenched and unclenched.

Tom was marching over as well, and angry look on his face. He got close to the man as well, yelling now too (”You fucking scum!”). Then, across the carpet, he turned his head and his eyes caught yours. He halted. He saw you, hugging yourself, chest heaving, as you struggled to hold back your tears. This was supposed to be fun.

Tom’s heart broke. It broke because he knew the experience was ruined. You’d been so excited. And for what? For some jerk to mess it up for you?

He suddenly felt no urge to yell at the guy, no, he just padded over to you, and brought you into a hug without a word. You stood there.

“I’m so sorry, N/n,” he whispered. With him so close, you could finally hear. “He had no right to hold you like that.” 

“It’s not your fault,” you muttered. Tom didn’t answer then and you both just stood there in a hug, warm and nice, holding each other.

You felt a hand gently placed on your back and looked up to see Jake. He smiled at you gently, although you could tell he was suppressing a lot of anger. He and Tom made eye contact for a moment, then both looked at you. 

“Alright guys, we better go,” Jake said and both you and Tom nodded. 

You begun to walk, but this time you felt Jake settle on one side of you and then Tom at the other. They both grabbed the hand of yours that was on their side, and then you started walking down the carpet again. 

You saw some fans awwing, some still outraged at the man’s actions, and some completely clueless. Either way, you held on to Tom and Jake. The warmth of their hands in yours, made a sense of security and safety swirl in your chest. You smiled. 

“Thank you!” you said to no one in particular, but the squeeze of your hands let you know that they heard. Although, if you asked them no thank you was needed. No one should be allowed to scare their little sib, and goddamnit they would make sure of that. 

___________________________

Tag List:

@hera-the-writer @marvel-madness @40srogcrs @whatthefuckimbisexual @snarky–starky @garbage-potato @eviemarvel @lozzypoz321 @allthecreativeonesaretaken @missamericana713 @rororo06 @shady80smusicsingercolor @ireadfanficforfun​

[mymelodyheart]

Miles Between Us Chapter 14 ~The Element of Surprise ~

WARNING: VERY EXPLICIT SEXUAL CONTENT

Previously in The Reunion

They fitted perfectly, her softness cradling his boneless heap, making him hard as steel again. Some part of his brain must have still been functioning because he jerked and reached out for her bra to cover her when his doorbell rang. Christ!  Forcing his body to move with marginal success, he yanked her up and pulled up his jeans.

Claire slid off the table and grabbed her clothes. "Who could that be?"

"That better not be yer uncle or ..." Jamie trailed off, muttering curses under his breath, annoyed at the disturbance as he was just revving up for part two of their lovemaking. When he opened the door, a sense of deja vu hit him when he saw Mrs Fitz standing there with what seemed like a plate of a lemon meringue pie. What the fuck?

"Mrs Fitz!"

The older woman didn't bother to hide her curiosity this time as her eyes tried to peer past his shoulders. "Heard ye have company, lad, and I havenae seen Miss Claire the last couple of days."

  If you wish to read this on AO3, here is the link.

If you wish to read this from the beginning:

AO3 link

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  Six Days Later

Claire's heavy eyelids fluttered open, her brain still addled by sleep. It took her a while to gather her thoughts and remember how she'd made it to bed last night. She shifted slightly in bed, but there's a two-hundred-fifty pound of hard-muscled, naked male restricting her movement. Jamie's arm was draped across her waist, securing her against his chest, her legs confined under his heavier ones. She could feel his soft, steady breathing blowing warm air on top of her head, reminding her how well he'd been sleeping the last few nights. There had been no night terrors or unpleasant dreams interrupting his sleep, and she put it down to his workload during the day and their physical activities between the sheets at night.

Today was Friday, and the realisation caused a huge smile to spread across her face. Last night she'd worked late until past ten, and Jamie had found her fallen asleep in front of her laptop in her studio shed. He'd scooped her up in his arms and helped her get ready for bed, and just before sleep claimed her, he'd whispered he had a surprise for her today. 

She wondered what the surprise was and guess it would probably be a long lie-in for them and breakfast in bed. Looking back, the past few days had flown by in a blur, packed with work and catching up with her uncle Lamb during nights. Ever since her emotional reunion with Jamie, her work-related things had gone from a shamble of mess to running smoothly. It's as if the universe had decided to grant her reprieve as everyone went out their way to appease her. Even her boss John seemed to have given her space and was allowing her to work in peace. Somehow, deep down, she had a sneaking suspicion Jamie had something to do with it. 

It had all began at the start of the week when Jamie had been at work. Tom had stopped by the cottage to hand her a signed contract agreeing to his book's publication. By the time she'd told John the good news, he'd been in his element detailing his main point plan for getting the word out and announcing the book deal to Tom's adoring followers. She'd thought her boss would demand to get her and Tom on the next plane to London, but instead, John had told her he'd arranged a team to fly to Inverness for a formal meeting with their new author. As if that wasn't enough, two days later, Mary had produced enough drafts for Claire to work on and promised there would be more on the way. Her uncle, sensing work was piling, would occasionally stop by either to whip up something to eat or bring food while she'd been ensconced in her studio shed. Not that it was unusual for her uncle to perform domesticated pursuits; however, it's still surprising that he was going the extra mile to help around the house when he had the Highlands at disposal for his adventures being an outdoor person that he was.

It's becoming clear this week was proving to be a period of many turning points. She had no idea what the future had in store for her and Jamie, but she knew something had shifted in their relationship, and it was definitely for the better. Though she's still the same girl who's still trying to find her place in the world and fit in, she knew she'd changed, too. A few months ago, she would have probably backed down from any forms of conflicts, citing life as complicated enough without adding more complications. But she'd learned how to respond, choose fights that are worth fighting for and cast aside that wasn't deserving of her peace of mind. She'd also learned that once in a while, it's good for her sanity to give propriety and rules the middle finger when a situation called for it. 

It's hard to believe she's planning her life in the Highlands, the place where her parents had met and found love in each other. In her quest to get to know them more, she'd spent her holidays here to be closer to their memories and live that adventure they'd so craved. Now, she was involved with a man tormented with demons. If her parents were still alive today, she wondered how they would receive Jamie. Would they have been like Jenny or her uncle, suspicious and sceptical of their relationship? Or would they have been happy with her choice just like Willie, Brian, and Ellen have been with Jamie's?

Deep in her heart, she knew that her parents would have taken one look at them and understood that Jamie was special and meant to be her life adventure. From what Claire had surmised from uncle Lamb's stories, her parents have been that kind of people, magnanimous of spirit and always saw the best in others. Jamie was like that too. He'd taken a gamble with her despite their differences and the geographical challenges ahead. Though it seemed she was helping him with his condition, unbeknownst to Jamie, he too was helping her heal the part of her that became an orphan. In some invisible way, he was repairing something in the fabric of her world that had been torn down the middle when her parents passed away. She absorbed that thought and was reminded of what Uncle Lamb once told her, that her father always had a peculiar sense of humour. With that in mind, she'd like to think that just maybe her father had sent Jamie her way on purpose. His way of telling her to let go of the past, not over-think, embrace the Highlands as much as he had and just love.

Lying next to Jamie in bed, she felt totally at peace. They might have had a crisis of faith, but she was confident they'll find their way through whatever path was laid before them. Their love wasn't and probably never going to be easy, given their journey had been emotional, tangled with roadblocks, denials and self-preservation. Still, she wanted to find her way with him. She'd just discovered this strength she didn't realise she had, and Jamie continued to surprise her with his single-mindedness purpose to be cured. Someone once said there's no fulfilment without a bit of struggle. Just like in the stories she hoped to publish one day, the heroes had to break down first and bleed before earning their happy ending. Well, if that's the rule, she couldn't envision facing life's trials and tests with any other person to stand beside her other than Jamie.

Her smile was still in place when her thoughts were suspended by a rush of heat as Jamie's hand coasted over her hip to disappear between her thighs. A sudden thrill shot through her, making her breath catch in her lungs. He shifted the leg holding her thighs down and deftly opened her to his touch, stroking the sensitive flesh in between. She felt his shaft stir against her bottom as she scooted closer to him, eliciting a guttural sound to escape his lips.

"I can practically hear the cogs turning in yer head, Sassenach," he muttered thickly, his breathing turning shallow at the back of her neck. He nipped her earlobe between his teeth and tugged. "What's going on in that mind of yers?"

"Oh, this and that and how you've been sleeping soundly ...these last few nights." She gasped out loud when he rubbed her nub with a calloused thumb. She tilted her head back to look at his face, and her lips were met by a long-drawn, possessive kiss. By the time their mouths parted, she was panting for air and squirming against him mindlessly. 

"Christ, ye're ready for me. Why did ye no' wake me up?" He thrust his finger deep inside her, fondling the spot he knew drove her wild and frantic. "Next time ye want me, wake me up."

"I-I couldn't. You were sleeping so peacefully." 

He paused his ministrations. "That's no' the answer I was hoping to hear."

Jesus H. Roosevelt Christ! "Y-yes, next time, I'll wake you up!"

"That's my lass." He sank another finger into her entrance. But as she tried to clench around him, his fingers slid out, using her wetness to coat her nub and gently rub her aching flesh. She wanted to scream at him for teasing her, but he only softly chuckled against her neck. At that moment, she needed to come more than she needed air. She hoarsely whispered his name in a plea for release. "Ach, no' yet, Sassenach ... ye listen better when I'm touching ye." She yelped when he suddenly yanked the covers away and flipped her on her stomach, the crisp morning air caressing her heated skin. "Let me see first that beautiful arse of yers." He shoved a pillow beneath her hips, putting her in a highly arousing position, her face mushed against the mattress and her bottom in the air. "Such a beautiful bum."

"Jamie ..." 

He kneaded the curves of her buttocks as he let out a frustrated male groan. "Let us talk first. This is the only time I'm pretty sure ye're no' gonnae argue with me with what I'm about to say. Ye listening?"

"Yes, yes ...get on with it, damn it!"

He laughed out loud just before his lips travelled along the path of her spine, kissing and nibbling her flesh. One hand slid around her belly and down the apex of her thighs, slipping blunt fingers into her folds as his mouth moved to her neck. He lingered there, biting hard and then soothing the sting with a lick of his tongue. Anticipation pulsated within her body, and goosebumps erupted on her skin as the weight of his erection slid against her upturned bottom, and Jamie positioned himself behind her. When he hefted her higher with his forearm, she let out a squeak. "Ye'll no' be working this weekend."

"Jamie," she whimpered. "B-but I can't."

"Oh yes, ye can." Skilled fingers stroke her sensitive nub, and with one thrust of his hips, he completely filled her, taking her by surprise. She nearly screamed, pressing her mouth against the mattress, suddenly mindful of nosey neighbours. She remembered what Jamie had told her about Mrs Fitz and muffled her moans on the covers of the bed.

"Oh, God, this is not fair," she breathed on an uneven exhale.

"I told ye last night, I have a wee surprise for ye. Ye've worked long enough this week. Ye're taking a wee break this weekend." When she didn't respond, he stilled his hips and took out his fingers from inside her. "You need a break, Sassenach. Now, for the love of God, just say yes, Jamie."

When Jamie drew out his hardness and plunged deeply back into her, heart-stopping sensations coursed through her whole body. Something about how he positioned her, the fluid, smooth drives of his movement made her mad with need. She wanted to urge him to go faster, but she clamped her mouth shut. He was deliberately torturing her and forcing her to agree with him. So she decided she was going to get her own back. Contracting her inner walls, she clenched around him. From experience, she knew the more he had to work to push into her, the wilder he would become. Just when she thought she finally got the upper hand, he paused and dropped his weight, stopping just short of squashing her. "No, no, no! Please don't stop!" she wailed.

"Oh, aye." He pushed his lower body tight to her bottom, his erection throbbing inside her. When she tried to wriggle her bum to urge him to start moving again, he firmly gripped her hips in place. "Ah, I ken what ye're up to," he whispered hotly in her ears. "I'm no' taking no for an answer. Ye owe this break to yourself."

"You don't play fair."

"Neither do ye."

Thinking she could compromise later after spending the whole morning with him, she finally conceded. "Fine. Just keep moving, for God's sake!" she hissed.

He let out a pained laugh and pressed his lips on the crook of her neck. "Good lass, ye ken it makes sense." Then cursing under his breath, he moved all the way out in one smooth slide before deliciously gliding deep back. "Christ, I can feel ye want to come, but ye're going to stay with me a little longer. Ye fell asleep on me last night, leaving me with a painful cockstand." 

"Jesus, Jamie."

"Aye," he rasped hoarsely into her hair. "I said the same thing when ye wriggled that pert arse against me and fell asleep immediately."

The way his thickness was invading her from an angle almost sent her hurtling over the edge. And it gave her a new appreciation for math. The thought almost made her laughed out loud if it wasn't for the pulsing pleasure between her legs.

"Christ ...look at ye," Jamie gritted, his voice sounding raw and almost severe. "So bloody perfect." 

He nudged her legs wider and changed his movements to short, strong strokes, increasing his pace with primitive energy that left her gasping for breath. With the sound of their slapping bodies, the earthy scent of arousal, the sweaty slide of skin, her belly began to tighten and coil.

"I just want to make ye happy, Sassenach," he groaned, bearing down his upper body more, his hips relentlessly pounding into hers. "So just say yes to my wee surprise, aye?" 

"Yes, yes, yes." Their voices sounded so far away, and her initial hesitation about taking a break from work almost forgotten. Not entirely, though. She tried to grasp that mental note about emails to be sent, but the hand gripping her hips moved, and fingers slid to rub her nub, stroking and pushing her further towards her peak. She gave in and widened her thighs to let him fill her more. But it left her no time to prepare for the release that shattered her apart, her love for him and the physical pleasure fusing to intensify the sensations blasting through her. It threatened to overwhelm her, but Jamie's presence anchored her as he followed her over, groaning her name, gripping her hips with a fierceness as he claimed her for his. 

Moments later, he pulled her boneless body in his arms and tucked her into his chest, tugging the covers over them and curving his front to her back. He held her tightly as the morning light streamed through the windows. 

Battling to keep her eyes open, thoughts of work slithered in, but it kept flittering away with her consciousness before she could dwell on it. Maybe just for a minute, she thought. But Jamie smelled so good, and his tender strokes enticed a hazy sleep to claim her muscles, dragging her down into the dark. Just one minute. 

As she eased into sleep, his whisper drifted toward her unconscious. "It's still early, Sassenach. Sleep a wee bit more. Your wee surprise will come soon enough."

..........

Claire woke for the second time that morning with an unladylike shriek when the mattress dipped and moved. Muddled, she jackknifed into a sitting position, eyes scanning wildly around the curtain-dimmed room for a trespasser. Claire knew someone was there, her gut instinct telling her it wasn't Jamie. Summoning her eyes to refocus, she collapsed with relief when she realised who it was sat at the foot of the bed.

"Surprise!" Annalise squealed, clapping her hands.

"Jesus H. Roosevelt Christ!" She swiped her bedraggled hair out of her face. "You scared me bloody witless."

"Bloody hell, you're jumpy." Annalise shifted a hip on the bed. "Jamie's bad dreams rubbing off on you now, are they?"

"That's not something to joke about," she glowered at her friend, pulling the covers up to her chin.

Annalise' smile waned a bit. "Hey, what's up? I'm not making fun of Jamie's nightmares, and you know that." Her shoulders slumped. "In case you don't know, bad dreams can happen to anyone. In fact, I had a bad dream a few days ago. I was being chased by a pirate."

Suddenly feeling bad for snapping at her friend, she mentally dispersed the sleep fog in her brain and gave Annalise an apologetic smile. So this was her surprise, she thought. Not that Claire wasn't happy to see her friend, but she'd expected Jamie's surprise to be a romantic weekend with him. She let out a sigh. "Chased by a pirate, huh? Let me guess ...sunken chest and no booty?"

Annalise perked up at Claire's feeble attempt to sound less grumpy. "Har de har har! I didn't realise you could be funny before coffee. A total package for a marauding pirate if I may say so."

"Tell that to Captain Beard," she mumbled, getting out of bed. 

"Aye, matey!" Annalise mischievously winked. "That's if he happens to be in Isle of Harris this weekend. Which is where, by the way, we're going, as in, now! So get packing!"

Claire stilled and shook her head. "Wot?" She began to shake her head, tugging the covers around her as she made her way to the dresser. "Oh no, no, no! I'm not leaving this place for any man or woman, including you, blondie! I've got a pile of work to do. You know I have deadlines."

"Oh no, you don't. You stop right there, missy! Have you forgotten you agreed with Jamie to take a weekend break?" 

Claire's eyes widened. "Oh, did he also tell you how he got me to agree?"

"No. But you can tell me later on the plane."

"Plane?" Claire dropped her face in her hands. "Oh, God, I can't believe I agreed to this. Jamie never told me anything."

Annalise stood up from where she was sitting and crossed her arms across her chest. "Hmmm, you don't look too happy to be spending time with me."

She puffed out a breath. "It's not that ..."

"We haven't had girly time in ages, Claire. Jamie thought it would do you a world of good to have a bit of fun."

"So now what? You and Jamie plotting and ganging up on me behind my back, is that it?" Claire accused. "What about Willie? Surely, you miss him more than me. When was the last time you saw him?"

Annalise grinned. "Don't worry about Willie. We have been doing a lot of catching up all night last night, and you want to know what he did?"

Claire's face crumpled in disgust as she held up a hand. "Oh, gross! Too much information. I don't want to hear about your sex life."

Annalise laughed out loud. "Fine, I won't discuss our sex life if you start packing now. Besides, you wouldn't want to waste the tickets Jamie worked so hard for, now, do you?"

Oh dear Lord, save me from well-meaning friends! She didn't really want to leave, but if Jamie had spent money organising this trip, she wasn't about to let it go to waste. But ... "How about uncle Lamb? He came to see me, and I can't just leave him."

"He knows all about the trip, and I've been told he's got a few excursions planned around the Highlands." 

"Oh, well ...if that's the case, I need to call Mary and John and let them know what I'm up to this weekend."

Annalise grinned. "Jamie's sorted it already."

"Wot?" she exclaimed with disbelief, her hands landing onto her hips. "Jamie's been planning this with you all along, hasn't he?" She shook her head. "I-I can't believe it!"

"You better believe it."

Claire blew out a breath of exasperation. "Fine! Grab my suitcase. It's in the airing cupboard."

"Yay!" Annalise whirled on her feet and pumped her fist in the air. Claire couldn't help but smile as enthusiasm began to wiggle its way through her system. Maybe Jamie was right. She owed it to herself to have a break, and probably a change of scenery was what she needed. After Mary had delivered the goods, Claire had worked herself to the bone all week and sometimes into the wee hours of the morning. She was already in her second round of edits on the extensive manuscripts Mary had submitted and must admit they were indeed making progress. As for Tom, her job with him was done, and the team organised by John should be arriving next week. It was definitely time for a bit of fun. 

On second thoughts, though it was generous of Jamie to arrange the trip, it would have been nice if he could come along too. But the idea of Jamie's condition worsening with something as simple as weekend trips away brought a feeling of melancholy to descend upon her. She had no doubt Jamie would be cured, and they'd be able to travel together one day, so she forced herself to shake off the momentary bout of wistfulness when Annalise came bounding back with her small suitcase.

"So ...you talked to Jamie. Where is he, by the way?" she asked, grabbing clothes from the dresser and throwing them in the bed. "He left early this morning."

"Oh! Jamie said he needed to be somewhere important, and he'll see you when we return. Willie will be driving us to the airport." When Claire frowned, Annalise came up behind her and laid a hand on her shoulder. "Hey, we'll only be away for two days, and you'll see him again Sunday night."

It was apparent to Claire she'd been at a disadvantage waking up to the news of the weekend trip because if Jamie had suggested it a few days ago, she would have definitely put her foot down and refused. Unfortunately, Annalise and Jamie knew her too well; hence they'd planned this trip in secrecy.

Claire absorbed that for a few heartbeats and felt a tad of guilt. It had been a while she'd spent time with Annalise, and once her job was done in London, she'd be living with Jamie. Plus, who knew when she'd have another chance to hang out with her best friend ...just the two of them and in the Isle of Harris at that. Besides, they always had a great time together. There was no sense in spoiling their spontaneous weekend with her stubbornness. She might as well make the most of it.

Claire turned to face her friend and smiled. "Do I have time to shower?"

"Plenty of time," Annalise beamed. "While you get ready, I'll make some coffee. I know what you're like without your cuppa first thing." And with that, she danced out of the room, whistling, leaving Claire to shake her head in amusement.

Later that morning, as they drove past the motorway exit for the airport, Claire shifted restlessly in the backseat of Willie's car, watching the familiar structure pass by in a blur outside her window. She frowned. Willie must have forgotten to take the turn. Uh oh! But before she could say anything, Willie veered to a different dual-carriageway. She tried to relax back into her seat, thinking there was probably a different route to the airport she didn't know of.

Eventually, they pulled to a stop in front of a building that didn't resemble a terminal, but there was an airfield and a charter plane coming out of the hangar. When Willie stepped out of the car, a man with worn jeans, a black leather jacket and a pair of aviators waved. He looked kind of familiar, but Claire was unsure.

"Who is that?" Claire asked quietly.

Annalise followed her line of vision. "Oh, I thought you knew that guy." She frowned when Claire shook her head and squinted to get a better look. "I was told the guy flying our plane was the soon to be famous Highlands' ultimate guide to Scotland." As if on cue, the man removed his aviators and started walking towards their car, a smile plastered to his unshaven face. When he waved at them, Annalise giggled, and Claire's eyes widened in confusion. "You probably can't recognise him from afar ...it's your author, Tom Christie," Annalise announced with a satisfied smile and to her utmost shock. "He's flying us to Stornoway."

What the bloody hell? Jamie arranged this?

 Dear Readers,

Thank you all for your readership and the feedback from the previous chapter. I'm super thrilled a lot of you enjoyed it after what I put you all through with Jamie and Claire's roller-coaster journey. I hope it was worth it all in the end.

Speaking of the end, the next chapter will be the last for this arc, and after taking a break, I will start arc three of the WONDERWALL series. I'll keep you updated here. Meanwhile, feel free to speculate what the next chapter will be. Until my next update, wishing you all good health and vibes. X

[roonilwazlibimagines]

Hi! Ik it might take you a while to see this but here goes :) Can I request a Sirius x Reader, post-hogwarts (but when Lily and James were still alive) and reader and Sirius are in a toxic relationship where they truly love eachother but things are just always on and off, yk? And nobody ever knows wether they’re going to walk into the room all lovey dovey or walk into the room screaming at eachother, and you can decide the ending but please make it angsty :)

Pairing: Sirius Black x Female Reader Word Count: 4.7k Blurb: James and Lily plan a get-together to tell their friends some exciting news, but it doesn’t go to planned.  Warnings: Lot’s of fighting and yelling, toxic relationship and swearing, little bit of Jily where she keeps slapping James on the chest but it is playful and I couldn’t resist writing it I’m sorry.  A/N: Everyone in my inbox: ‘please write a part 2 to worst of you’, Me: *writes a fic with the same plot but at a different time*

Everyone seemed to freeze as a loud popping noise was emitted from outside the Potter household. It was an unusually warm January night and the Potter’s were glad the weather had held off for their usual ‘get-together’ with their school friends. 

“Five galleons that they’re angry at each other,” James’ smirk was soon replaced with a frown as Lily playfully slapped his shoulder. 

“James! They’re our friends, don’t be so mean,” she tsked and shook her head, standing up to let the visitors in and missing Remus’ slight nod to James. 

James, Remus and Peter sat in the Potter’s lounge room seemingly frozen as they anticipated the state in which their friends would arrive. They really didn’t intend to be so mean to them. They cared and loved for them and had practically grown up as they had spent most of their Hogwarts life with the both of them. Sure a lot of that time was spent separately, but it was still spent together.

They had begun dating in their fourth year, they were both young and in love and they were both the other’s first, well, everything. They broke up at the beginning of fifth year and Sirius had done it. Something about not wanting to be kept down his entire life and needing a change - the reasons seemed to blur after a while. They had remained friendly with the both of them, but neither of them could stand to be in the same room as the other so that made it quite difficult to spend time with either of them. Until just before Christmas when the odd couple got back together because during their time apart they had realised that there was no one else for them. Until the second week back at school when she claimed to come to her senses and had realised that Sirius was never going to change and she could not spend a second longer with him. That was, of course, until after exams during the small Common Room party when they had woken up to the two of them in Sirius’ bed. All was well until about a month later and then it became hard to keep up with their odd relationship. 

It wasn’t that they didn’t care about them - because they did care about them both very much - but it was hard trying to keep up with them when one minute they were having a screaming match in the Gryffindor Common Room for all the first years to gawk at and the other they were cuddled up on Sirius’ bed pathetically telling the other everything they loved about them. 

Everyone was concerned (more intrigued) about what would happen to the odd couple after Hogwarts but nothing seemed to change. They weren’t dating when they officially graduated Hogwarts but by the next week when James invited them all over for a graduation celebration they were practically joined at the hip. That was, of course, until Sirius realised that he was free now that he was out of Hogwarts which led to a very loud screaming match on the Potter’s front porch where the three boys and Lily were sat in a similar position to where they were now: silent and nervous as they listened to their friends crying outside. 

“Bit awkward that they bought a house together now, isn’t it?” James’ voice was unusually high as he tried to make light of the very awkward situation they were in when they heard a popping noise and realised the screaming had finally ended. Similarly, Lily had playfully slapped his shoulder and scoffed, going outside to go and comfort her crying her friend. 

After that break-up James had asked Lily what she thought they did now that they lived together as opposed to Hogwarts where they could break up and get together as much as they pleased, both having their own dormitory to resign to at the end of it all. Lily had, once again, playfully slapped his shoulder making him exasperatedly ask, ‘what?! I’m curious,’ and so was Remus and Peter. 

“Well don’t tell anyone this but she told me that they have separate rooms and sometimes when it’s really bad Sirius goes to The Leaky Cauldron.” Lucky Remus and Peter weren’t just anyone. 

Now it had been over a year since they had graduated and the odd couple were still on and off and were currently just getting over a break-up which had also occurred at the Potter household during their last get-together. But apparently Sirius had come to his wits and came knocking at her door at two in the morning begging for forgiveness and they were just about to see whether or not it had worked. 

“Sorry we’re so late,” the three boys looked at each other; eyes wide, “Sirius couldn’t decide what to wear.”

“I just want to look the best for you.” They heard a giggle and a smooching noise as Lily reassured them that they were hardly late. Remus smirked as he stood up and reached his hand out to a disgruntled James who sighed as he fished in his pockets for five galleons. 

James didn’t plan on making this a game (especially not with the amount of money he was losing), but how could they not when they knew that the two ‘lovers’ would walk in either at each other’s necks and fighting or at each other’s necks and leaving a few ‘marks’.

“Hi everyone,” she was beaming and cheerful and she came around to give a big hug to everyone with Sirius trailing behind her and doing the same, “we missed you so much.”

 The Potter’s had two single lounges on either side of a three-seater lounge all facing a small table and a fireplace. James and Peter were sat on either side of the three-seater with Lily resuming her place in the middle and Remus on one of the single-seaters. 

“C’mere love,” Sirius mumbled in her ear as his hand wrapped around her wrist and led her to the other single-seater, sitting himself down and bringing her to sit on his lap. She leant her head on his chest and he put his arms around her waist. 

She felt content. She was sure that no matter how strange and chaotic their relationship was, her and Sirius were meant to be together. They were the other’s first love and when she fit so perfectly into his embrace how could she ever think otherwise? 

Sirius let out a sigh and a small smile formed on his face. He wasn’t really sure about anything in his life but this just seemed to make sense. He gave her a little squeeze before pressing a kiss to the top of her head. Sure they had their moments, but isn’t love about getting through them all? 

Lily cleared her throat, trying to bring the attention of James, Peter and Remus to anywhere else but the odd couple. They were being anything but subtle with James and Peter’s bodies completely turned to face them and Remus practically off his seat all trying to get the best view of the time bomb sitting in front of them. 

“So, what have we all been up to since the last time we saw each other?” Lily regretted the words that left her mouth as soon as she said it, but she smiled confidently at them all as if she hadn’t said anything wrong. 

Of course, the last time they had all been together that bomb had gone off and they all had front row seats. 

Really, they should have seen it coming. Her cheerful smile was a blank expression and Sirius’ teasing comments were replaced with a, ‘they don’t know we broke up, just smile and act like everything is fine’ which they definitely weren’t meant to hear and which the odd couple definitely didn’t achieve. 

They had joked about it afterwards that it was the shortest amount of time it had taken them to start fighting. 

“Lily this wine is amazing, where did you get it from?” Sirius was sitting as far away from her as he could manage, their distance - lounges away - contrasting to the close proximity they were in now. 

“Oh, I got it from The Leaky Cauldron as a gift from Tom,” Lily seemed like she was about to continue before she was cut off. 

“I’m surprised you haven’t tried it if it’s from The Leaky Cauldron,” she couldn’t contain the smirk forming on her lips, “don’t you spend a lot of time there, Sirius?” She was going to stop there, she really was, but seeing Sirius’ hand clench on the arm rest seemed to ignite something in her and before she knew it she was asking, “or where you too busy fucking whatever whore came in that you didn’t have time to try their wine?” It took James, Peter and Remus every fibre of their being not to start whooping and shouting because as much as they loved Sirius, it was quite hilarious.

“Yes, I was actually,” Sirius stood up, “best sex I’ve ever had.”

“Oh shut up!” She stood and got up in his face. There was a moment of silence with Sirius’ glare challenging her sneer. Then, in a mumble which the rest of them could hardly make out he asked, “do you think I could have a word with you outside?”

“Gladly.” 

It was more than a word. It was actually a lot of words. A lot of mean and nasty words which they all could hear as they sat inside in a similar position to where they were the first time they had fought like this when they first left Hogwarts. It was oddly silent in the house, with the only noise being their two friends screeching at each other outside. 

“You’re the one who sent me to The Leaky Cauldron,” Sirius’ voice was shrill and loud. 

“Well maybe if you stopped acting like a child I wouldn’t have broken up with you,” her voice somehow was louder than his. 

“Well maybe if you weren’t always so serious about everything then I wouldn’t have to.”

“You always fucking do this Sirius,” her voice started out softly but it rose towards the end. 

“Whatever, I don’t need this,” he sighed and with a quick, “fuck this,” Sirius disapparated and soon she was awkwardly walking into the lounge-room, tears threatening to spill as she excused herself and went home for the night. 

“Well Sirius and I got back together,” she let out a small laughm turning her head to Sirius who was playfully rolling his eyes at her. 

Peter’s eyes widened, Remus almost choked on his drink and James cleared his throat as Lily laughed with her friend and gave James an encouraging kick to the shin so he would laugh with her. 

“Thank Merlin we did,” Sirius whispered, pressing a soft kiss to her nose as everyone let their awkward giggles die down. 

She knew what everyone thought of their relationship. People might say that she was dumb for constantly going back to Sirius, but they didn’t know him like she did. Sure they all had front row seats to their constant bickering and fighting but they weren’t there when they got home and were tangled up in each other's arms with Sirius telling her everything he loved about her. But, of course, she wasn’t naive enough to think that the people around them hadn’t spoken about the eventful ending to their last ‘get-together’ and so why not address the elephant in the room?

Sirius also knew what everyone thought of their relationship. But he didn’t like people knowing the details, he was very private when it came to his relationships and why did people need to know anything about it? 

But he still smiled at her because this was their friends she was speaking to, they were like family and maybe it was okay if she let slip a few details about their relationship. 

“Obviously, last time we were here it was a bit different,” she turned around to face everyone else, a small smile forming on her lips as Sirius hummed and made a conscious effort to unclench his jaw. “But Sirius came home and apologised and we made up and trust me, we definitely made up,” she giggled before opening her mouth to continue. 

“Okay, I think they get it, love,” Sirius let out an awkward giggle as he spoke through gritted teeth. 

“Well if they can hear us screeching on their front porch then they can-”

“Well they didn’t have to hear us screeching on their front porch.” Her head snapped around to look at him smiling sweetly at her.

“What is that meant to mean?” She squinted her eyes at him as he took his hands off her waist. 

“Nothing, my love.” Sirius let out a deep sigh before pressing a soft kiss to the top of her temple. They were finally in a good place and he really didn’t want to pick a fight with her right here in front of their friends. Again. 

She glared at him hoping that he would understand how mad she was at him for picking a fight and then ending it as if it was all her fault. 

There was an awkward silence before James cleared his throat and everyone’s attention was brought to James. 

She felt a heat rise to her chest in embarrassment as she realised how pathetic their little row actually was and as James opened his mouth to start speaking she mumbled an ‘I’m sorry’ to Sirius who brought his arms back around her waist and whispered an ‘it’s okay,’ before softly kissing her cheek and bringing his attention to James. Maybe he had overreacted. 

“So I know Lily and I always invite you over for little ‘get-togethers’ because you’re our family and we love you all and we want to stay this close forever.” He turned to Lily and placed a hand on her thigh. She put her hand over his and beamed. They all looked around at each other and smiled in an acknowledgement that they were family and they did love each other very much. 

“And while this is all very true, James and I actually invited you because, well,” her and James looked at each other and let out a breathy laugh, “we are going to be extending our family.” Their beaming faces turned to look at their friend’s confused ones before Lily almost screeched, “I’m pregnant!”

A chorus of cheers broke out in the small living room as everyone got up to hug the new parents. 

“Lily, oh my gosh!” she let out a squeal as she hugged her best friend before continuing, “I’m so excited for you, congratulations!” She hugged her tight before letting go and Lily grabbed her hands and placed it on her tummy both of them giggling in excitement. 

Peter, Remus and Sirius gave their congratulations to James, waiting until the two girls broke apart so they could congratulate Lily. 

“Congratulations, mate,” Sirius beamed, patting him on the back before continuing, “can’t wait to meet the little baby and teach them everything you won’t.”

Their previous little feud had been completely forgotten by the majority of the room, fortunately overshadowed by the good news from the soon-to-be-parents. Once everyone gave their congratulations they resumed their positions across the lounges, a sense of excitement filling in the room as everyone was still beaming at James and Lily. 

“Now we want you to know that choosing the godparents was a really hard decision,” Lily’s hand was wrapped around James’ arm as she looked around to everyone individually in the room, “and we don’t want anyone’s feelings to be hurt, because James and I will have more children.”

“That we will,” James smirked, turning his head to press a soft kiss to Lily’s head. Despite their smiles, their friends scrunched up their noses in disgust and playfully rolled their eyes. 

“But we had to make a decision,” they were trying to be sympathetic but the smiling faces of all their friends were infectious and they knew that no one would be offended, “and the godparents will be,” James paused for dramatic effect before turning towards the odd couple in the single-seated chair, “you two!” 

She stood up and beamed at Sirius, grabbing his face in her hands and pulling him in for a kiss before bringing her attention to James and Lily. She pulled them both into her arms and kissed their cheeks, both them letting out a chorus of ‘thank you’s’, ‘I love you’s’ and ‘I can’t wait’s’.

When they sat back down Sirius’ grip on her waist was much tighter and this time she placed her hand over his and gave it a big squeeze. 

“We promise to be the best godparents ever,” she gushed, a large smile forming on her face. 

“Yeah, we’ll let them do everything you won’t let them do,” Sirius continued making everyone laugh. 

“I don’t doubt that you will,” James and Lily shook their heads knowing that as much as the odd couple would live up to their promise, they would never put the baby in actual danger. Well not any real danger. 

If they were being honest, which they would never be to the odd couple, they really weren’t convinced on making them godparents. It wasn’t that they didn’t trust them, they would trust them with their lives if they really had to. Well, they would trust them individually. They were amazing friends individually, but when they were together it seemed only a matter of time before they would explode and as they had experienced from the last few years, they really didn’t care who ended up in the destruction. 

When James and Lily had discussed the topic of godparents it was quite obvious that the odd couple would be the perfect choice because Lily wanted her to be the godmother, being her closest friend and all, and Sirius, who was basically James’ brother, was perfect to be the godfather because he was her boyfriend. . 

Well, at the time he was her boyfriend, but that was not long before they had the massive fight at the Potter’s and their concerns about them being godparents began to grow. 

“Maybe it will bring them together?” James had suggested innocently, shrugging his shoulders and earning a playful slap to his shoulder from Lily. “What?”

“Oh yes that will be great,” Lily beamed sarcastically at him, “I can’t wait to introduce our child to their fighting godparents only to have them go off and fuck in a closet and forget about their godchild!”

But Lily was convinced on having her as a godmother and James was convinced on having him as a godfather and it would have been a bit weird if they had given it to her and Remus and that probably would have led to another fight. 

So they decided to wait until they were in a good spot until they broke the news to them and when she had owled Lily to tell her that Sirius had apologised and they were thinking about getting back together, Lily was ecstatic to hear this (for the first time) and immediately sent out owls to come to their house in two days. She didn’t want to leave it too late in case they broke up again. Usually it lasted a little longer, but honestly who knew with them. 

Maybe it was wrong on their behalf, but godparents didn’t technically need to be together anyways so all that mattered was that they were together when they told them as this was the best case scenario with the least risk of them getting into a fight. 

But even though it was the least riskiest, there was still a risk. 

“And you were going to ruin their announcement,” Sirius chuckled, squeezing his arms around her and making her unsure about how she was meant to take that comment. 

Everyone suddenly went quiet. 

“What do you mean?” She raised an eyebrow but she hadn’t turned to look at him yet. 

“Oh merlin,” Lily whispered as all smiles were wiped off their friends' faces as they braced themselves for the explosion. 

“You tried to pick a fight with me just before they announced it,” Sirius explained, still seemingly innocent to what the outcome of his comment was going to lead to. 

“I didn’t try to pick a fight with you.” She turned around to face him, giving him a confused look but still trying to force a smile. 

“Really, well it seemed like you-”

“You were trying to pick a fight with me, you always do.” She furrowed her eyebrows together as their friends stared intently at her seemingly unable to take their eyes away from the emerging disaster in front of them.  

“I do not,” Sirius huffed, getting defensive as he took his arms away from her waist. 

“You’re picking one right now!” Her voice was getting louder and her expression angrier and Sirius let out a sigh. 

“I’m sorry, love,” he pressed a kiss to her forehead and went to continue before he was cut off. 

“No,” she stood up, “you’re an ass Sirius Black.” She could feel the tears start to pool in her eyes and she wasn’t sure if it was due to the anger or the embarrassment. “You always pick a fight with me and then you apologise as if I’m the one being annoying.” 

Their friends shared a look as they all seemed to shrink back into their seats, their previous excitement getting lost in the explosion. 

“Well at least I’m not the one who always has to make a scene in front of our friends.” Sirius stood up and waved his hand around to their friends who all moved their eyes away before she could turn around and see them staring intently at them. 

“Oh fuck off Sirius,” she rolled her eyes and sniffled as she felt a tear fall down her cheek, “do you really think they can’t hear us when we ‘take it outside?’” She asked, teasing him for always wanting to do so when it was obvious they would be able to hear. 

“Can you just fucking stop?” His voice was booming, “Tonight was about James and Lily but you just couldn’t handle the attention not being on you for more than two minutes, could you?” He was pointing at her and she squinted at him, a few more tears falling down. 

“How dare you?” Her voice was beginning to tremble and she hated that he would think he had gotten to her. She wanted to turn to James and Lily and apologise for being such shitty friends and tell them that she was really happy for them, but it was easier to pretend that they weren’t there. 

“What? Speak the fucking truth?” Sirius taunted, stepping closer to her so their faces were inches apart. “Well congratulations because you ruined their announcement.”

“How dare you accuse me of being such a shitty friend when you’re the one who is always picking a fucking fight with me!” Her voice started soft but as she continued it got more heated and soon she was yelling at him. Sirius clenched his eyes shut and took a deep breath. 

“Fuck this,” he mumbled, “fuck this,” his voice got louder, “you always fucking ruin everything for me.” He leant down so his face was even closer to hers before standing back up and clearing his throat. He finally addressed the rest of his friends as she angrily wiped the tears from her cheeks. “I’m sorry that your announcement has been ruined, I’m really happy for you, mate,” he gave a sincere look to James and Lily, “and I am honoured to be their godfather. But I think it's time I went before anything escalates.” 

“I’m so happy you get to be the bigger person again,” she spat at him, but he didn’t acknowledge her words. 

He walked around the room and gave his friends a hug goodbye, congratulating them once more before giving her a dirty look and apparating to The Leaky Cauldron. 

He leant against the doorframe and took a deep breath. He really didn’t like fighting with her, as much as he did it and as much as people probably thought he liked it, he really hated it. But he just couldn’t help it. She knew exactly how to get his blood boiling and he knew exactly how to push her buttons but that was just because they knew each other so well. Too well, probably, considering their history. 

More than anything, he felt horrible for ruining his best friends, his brothers, announcement. He would never admit it but he did know that the fight wasn’t just one sided. It never was. He would get a room and write an apology to his friends immediately. Maybe they could celebrate together, with just him, to save any more dramas. 

There was the thought in the back of his head that he would be a godparent with her, but he decided to push it to the back of his head. He wouldn’t be able to sleep if he let his worries bubble to the surface. He wanted to be the best role model a godfather could be to this baby and at the moment he felt everything but. 

His heart ached as he replayed the image of the tears falling down her cheeks as she yelled at him and for a moment he considered apparating back to their house and holding her until she stopped crying and forgave him. 

He wiped the tears off his face and walked into the pub. 

She was mumbling out apologies any moment there was a silence. . 

“We are horrible friends, I am so sorry.” She wrapped her arms around both of them as they patted her back and told her it was okay, checking for the umpteenth time that she didn’t want to stay with them instead of going to a presumably empty house. “You’re too kind, but I just really want to go back to my comfortable bed.” And with one horrible attempt at a convincing smile she apparated back to her empty flat.

She threw herself on the bed and let out a muffled scream into her pillow. She hated that he knew exactly how to get her blood boiling and even though she knew exactly how to push his buttons, he had definitely initiated it tonight. 

She hated fighting with him, she hated the horrible twisty feeling she got in her tummy that always made her feel like everything inside of her was going to come out and she hated that he had the power to make her feel like this. 

But this time it was worse because even though they had fought in front of their friends many times, they had never brought so much attention to themselves when it really shouldn’t have been. She felt horrible and decided that first thing tomorrow she would owl Lily and meet up with them to properly celebrate. At least it would give her time to get a gift. 

Her mind wandered to the baby and how she was expected to be their godmother. Not that she wanted anything more than to be the best godmother the little baby could ever have, it was just that right now she didn’t know if she would ever be able to do so. 

For a moment she wanted nothing more than to have Sirius’ arms around her, shushing her and kissing the top of her head and stroking her back and telling her that everything was going to be fine. But she wasn’t sure that they were ever going to be anywhere near being fine. 

Back at the Potter’s the four friends sat in silence. No one knowing what to say. They shared a few looks and many sighs, but the tension was still leftover from the explosion and it seemed that no one knew what to say and no one really knew how to deal with the aftermath of the explosion. 

“So does this mean I get my five galleons back?” James asked innocently.  Lily shook her head and playfully slapped his shoulder as James whined when Remus shook his head. 

[eyes-of-mischief]

weekly fic recs | 13

fandoms: bnha, bsd, b99, dc, hp, hq, mdzs

bnha

feelings can't catch katsuki, he runs too fast by jihnari

After that, it's a blur of metal and fire and pain—and the whispers of a long-dead boy chanting Help her, help her, help her and once, just once, just maybe, Help me. It's been 16 goddamn months and every time, every fucking time, it all comes back to a stupid thirteen year old kid Katsuki hadn't even been friends with. Why can't he just forget about it and move on?

Katsuki goes to Yuuei and accidentally makes friends via attempted assault and screaming in their faces. *jazz hands*

bnha x bsd

You long to end your life, so you never will die by pluton1um

(graphic depictions of violence)

For Aizawa, it seemed to be a normal day; after patrol, he was planning to go home and sleep for eighteen hours. That was until he saw the two bloodied teenagers sitting in an alleyway.

"What the hell."

(In which Dazai and Chuuya are sent into the world of heroes and villains. How will they hold in an environment where moral code is placed at such high esteem?)

(TLDR 2.0: Dazai and Chuuya become problem children who bring nothing but trouble and stolen alcohol into UA.)

dc

birds fly in every direction by distracted_dragon

Tim Drake lives a perfectly good life. During the day, he's a freshman at Gotham Academy. At night, he surveils criminal activity and sends detailed analyses to Commissioner Gordon. If he's lucky, he might even get a photo of a Bat or two. He even writes increasingly popular LinkedIn articles about vigilantes and the criminal justice system under the pseudonym Jeffrey Anderson.

Gotham is the one that needs help, not Tim.

Bruce Wayne has a thing or two to say about that.

b99 x dc

I Am the Night by Chash

A new vigilante rises in New York City. The official position of the NYPD is that he's a criminal.

Jake Peralta thinks he needs a sweater.

hp

Earning His Notice by Lomonaaeren

Harry has almost accepted that he won’t be going back to his own time, and he’s working in a small apothecary in Diagon Alley to make ends meet. Then someone tries to blow up his employer’s shop, and that brings him face-to-face with Tom Riddle, who he successfully avoided during his time at Hogwarts.

hq

now it seems as though we speak a completely different language (but you'll always be as beautiful as the moment that we met) by jublis

It’s hard to find something that belongs only to yourself when you’re a kid. You scrape all your edges to fit into something else’s corners, and then turns out it wasn’t even what you were looking for in the first place. Being a person is such hard, hard work. No one knows that better than children who are too much. (When a boy is left alone for too long, he hungers. That’s Shouyou’s first answer.)

Or, Hinata Shouyou learns how to stand on his own two legs. Featuring one too many complicated emotions, Kageyama Tobio, and hunger.

Savior by dgalerab

(mature) (graphic depictions of violence, rape/non-con)

Bokuto Koutarou isn’t scared of mutants, which is why he might be the first person who has ever shown Akaashi Keiji some sympathy.

(Or: it was only so long before I got into an X-men AU because I've been in X-men hell since I was 5.)

mdzs

a fever, a promise, an unopened door by pale_and_tragic

Someone is calling him, someone is running, even though there is no running in the Cloud Recesses. Someone’s kneeling in front of him, touching his shoulders, pulling his frozen fingers away from his face. “Wangji, what’s happened? What are you doing out here? It’s the middle of the—”

“You’re alive,” Lan Wangji says. “Are you?”

Lan Xichen stares at him.

(Or, a feverish LWJ finds himself kneeling outside another closed door.)

Part 2 of these waking dreams

your words upon my lips by uchiuchi

A silence blankets the air around them. Wei Wuxian closes his eyes and recaps the last couple of minutes: him asking (a little crudely) what happened, the juniors looking like Lan Wangji had just announced his deep hatred for rabbits, Lan Wangji himself looking like he’d just announced his deep hatred for rabbits, both of them asking the same question, and—

Realization seeps into Wei Wuxian's bones.

He looks up at Lan Wangji, and Lan Wangji is staring right back at him, and Wei Wuxian’s lips are still tingling, and Lan Wangji is still poking at his own.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Lan Wangji groans.

At the same time, Wei Wuxian murmurs, “Ah.”

(In which Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji investigate a curse and get cursed instead. Everything they try to say comes out of the other person's mouth. It can only go downhill from there.)

the map of days by everythingispoetry

(mature)

Surviving the thirty-three lashes is a miracle. Living after the thirty-three lashes is a curse.

[writingwithacupoftea]

Of black cats and lessons to be learned

Summary: Someone is meddling with Y/N Shelby’s work at Shelby Company Limited and Tommy jumps to conclusions that he’ll later regret.

Word Count: 2242

A/N: I honestly still don’t know if I like this ending, but let me know what you think. Hope you enjoy it!!

The rain poured down outside the window of her office at Shelby Company Limited, and occasionally a large drop would bounce loudly off the glass. Normally Y/N would find the sound comforting, but today it was just downright fucking annoying. But as the door to said office bangs open, Y/N knows that the rain is going to be the least of her worries.

No one ever enters her office without knocking but Tommy.

And Tommy never lets the door bang unless he's pissed off.

Despite refusing to look up at her elder brother and boss, Y/N felt his glare on her as he stormed over. When Tommy slammed last week's accounts onto her desk, she slammed her pen down and glared right back at him. 

"What the fuck is this?" Tommy demanded. 

"Last week's accounts," Y/N deadpanned, not breaking eye contact. 

"This isn't the time for jokes, Y/N, this is serious. They're riddled with mistakes for the third week running. Mistakes that could be lethal to this company and people's view of us" 

"Well everything was correct when I handed it over to your secretary, I checked and double checked everything," as usual, Y/N added silently. "I keep telling you, my work is being meddled with!"  Whilst Y/N appeared calm, her blood was boiling. 

Tommy slowly took out a cigarette and lit it, in what she assumed was supposed to be an intimidating manner. It would be, to anyone but her. 

"I've been having dreams about a black cat. Someone is trying to steal my crown." He sighed. "For someone so intelligent, I'd have expected better from you, Y/N" The woman in question was stunned into silence. 

"Seriously, Tommy, me? I'd have expected better from you than to go around making accusations like that, both as your employee and as your sister.  I've supported you through everything. When everyone turned against you, I was there. And you have the nerve to stand here and say that I'm trying to overthrow you." Y/N's anger was starting to seep through into her words, and a tidal wave was sure to follow. "You know that I loved Grace when you married, but GOD you were completely blinded by a good fuck all those years ago, and do you know what?" Y/N leaned forwards, menacingly, "I think the same has happened again." 

With those few words, Tommy reached the end of his tether, slamming his hand onto the solid wood desk. "ENOUGH! If that's what you think of me, let's get the truth out in the open, eh? I think you've wanted this since the start. I think you've wormed your way around the company and the rest of this family and, blinded by your ambition -" 

"My ambition?!" "you've forgotten the one main obstacle in your way. Me. And I'll tell you something else: I’m not moving for anyone." 

A tense silence fell in the room.  Y/N, holding back her tears and refusing to show any signs of weakness, simply nodded. "That was quite the speech, Thomas. Rather hypocritical too, might I add, lecturing me on being blinded by ambition. But I'm not even going to try and defend myself against those ridiculous claims because, when it's too late, you'll realise just how wrong you were." Y/N's voice was icy cold, and she picked up her coat and bag. "I only have two things left to say to you. As your employee, I resign, you can sort this fucking mess out on your own this time. And as your sister, well, you're not my family anymore." With that, Y/N stormed past him, out of the building and let the rain disguise her tears. 

*** 

The only family member that Y/N had spoken to since the incident was Esme. She informed her sister-in-law that she was going to spend some time on the road with the Boswell's, a gypsy family who Y/N had become very well acquainted with, but they hadn't spoken since.  It wasn't running away, it was an attempt to break free. That's what Y/N kept telling herself anyway. 

Her time on the road had been exactly what she needed. The freedom, the open air, all the things that Y/N never realised that she had missed so much. Yet it was still tainted with memories of Tommy. Memories of happier times, when he would chase her around and play games and smile.  Y/N had accepted that the war had changed her older brother, but the day she stormed out he was completely unrecognisable.   

They used to always have each other's backs.  She always wanted to make her beloved brother proud, but never wanted to be 'just like Tommy', despite Arthur and John's endless teasing.  They were each other's rocks, the one reliable thing, and now that feeling of security had faded away like the smoke from his cigarettes. 

Y/N was destroyed by the incident in her office, even though she hid it well. Now, two months into her time on the road, she was ready to be busy again and so set out to find a new job. 

*** 

It had been four months since any of the family had seen or heard from Y/N. 

Tommy had discovered that, as usual, his sister's instincts had been right and there had been someone trying to bring the business down from the inside. And it was the secretary.  And she was part of another criminal gang who were rapidly expanding.  A black fucking cat if ever Tommy saw one. 

The traitor had had the nerve to tell him that the way to tear the company apart was to, quite simply, shatter the relationship between the two people who had the greatest minds and the strongest relationship: Y/N and Tommy. 

It was the truth and Tommy knew it, having already felt the impact of her absence dearly, both on the efficiency of the company and on himself.  But the it was too much for him to handle, and had let Arthur and John see to it that the secretary couldn't reveal any more truths to him. 

He had never realised how important his sister was to him, how loyal and how much he needed her.  With every day that passed without hearing of Y/N, Tommy became more and more anxious. If anything happened to her, he would never forgive himself and the rest of the family wouldn't forgive him either. 

But the day that Tommy did get news of his beloved little sister, he almost wished he hadn't. 

'A sister for a sister, seems fair enough, don't you think, Mr Shelby? We'll be in touch.' 

Along with the note came a bullet.  A bullet with Y/N's name etched into it, wrapped in her bloodied handkerchief. 

*** 

Sheffield had been the nearest city.  That was why Y/N chose to stop there. What she didn't realise is that it was a city rife with gangs. 

She had fallen in with another gang, the last thing that she wanted to do. 

And now she was locked in a cold, damp basement and, though she hated to admit it, Y/N wanted Tommy more than ever.  

Beaten and bruised, she felt like a little girl again with her desperate need to be enveloped in her older brother's arms once again.  But despite her wants and her needs, she had refused to break, even when she had been battered to the point of unconsciousness in her kidnapper's attempt to get information out of her. 

She would protect her family and their company until her last breath.  She would protect Tommy as he had protected her so many times in the past. 

But it wouldn't come to that, because Y/N Shelby was far too stubborn to die whilst being guarded by a man that couldn't even count to ten. And so, with this new found strength and resolve, she planned her escape. As much as she wanted her brother, she damn well refused to let him come riding in like her knight in shining armour... 

*** 

Days had passed since Tommy had received the note.  The Shelby clan had all reacted in their own ways, but no one was as torn up as Thomas Shelby.  He was drinking more, lashing out more, and no one knew when he was going to completely snap. 

The family had poured all of their time and energy into searching for their sister, and yet they still didn't have a single lead. All they knew was that the traitorous secretary hailed from Sheffield, however there was definitely more than one gang based there. 

But one day, a gloomy day where the rain poured down outside the Garrison, the people of Small Heath were able to stop living in fear of the leader of the Peaky Blinders' next outburst. 

Thin, trembling, black and blue, Y/N Shelby stumbled through the door to the pub, where her family were gathered. Crystal blue eyes locked with hers, widening in shock and relief. But that was the last thing she saw before letting the exhaustion take over her, and her body collapsed to the floor. 

*** 

The hours that followed were a blur for Tommy. Not caring that everyone was watching, he had scooped Y/N into his arms and refused to let her go as John had driven them to Tommy's house; even though it was only a few streets away, he didn't want her getting any colder than she already was. She was as pale as death, and Tommy was scared. 

Polly had come round, he remembered, to tend to Y/N's wounds and settle her down into his bed.  She had shooed him out of the way as he tried to stay in the room, not wanting to leave his sister's side now that he finally had her back. 

After she had gone, well, Tommy didn't know how long he sat by his sister's bedside.  It could've been minutes, or hours.  He couldn't remember the last time he had seen Y/N look so vulnerable. Since he had come back from France, she always seemed so strong. Maybe, Tommy mused, she really was too much like him sometimes.  In his dedication to the company, he'd started to forget that she was his little sister first and foremost, and not just his best employee. 

The next morning, Tommy was still so consumed with his guilt and worry that he didn't even notice when Y/N first woke up.  Yet at the small voice saying "Tom?", his attention moved completely to his little angel. 

"Hello, trouble," he said, a glimmer of a smile passing over his lips as his sister glanced quickly around the room and then straight back to him.  

"I made it," she sighed softly, tears finally beginning to pour down her cheeks. "I'm home." 

"Shhh now. You're here, you're safe, and I'm not gonna let those bastards touch you again." Tommy brought her hand, which he had been clasping tightly since the moment that Polly had finished, up to his lips, placing a soft kiss on the back of it. "And I am so, so sorry, sweetheart. You were right, you're always fucking right. If I'd just listened to you, you wouldn't be in this state now. I love you so much and I'm so sorry..." Tommy continued rambling quietly to himself, and Y/N was alarmed to feel his tears hitting her hand.  She was also amazed to hear the Thomas Shelby say the word 'sorry' - he usually said it through his actions, and never actually said it out loud.  But here he was, unable to stop whispering it to her. 

"Tom..." 

"Don't you dare fucking tell me that this isn't my fault." Y/N was brought to silence by the severity of his voice. "I failed you, Y/N/N." 

"You've taught me so much Tommy, and I love you more than anything, but speak to me like you did all those months ago and I will leave again. Maybe it's time the roles were reversed and you let your little sister teach you some things, yeah?" The siblings chuckled at that. Tommy knew that he couldn't cope with her leaving again. He just couldn't. His entire world had crumbled in the time that she had been away, but at the same time he knew that Y/N was right. Painfully, he added, he knew that she'd be right to get away from him if he ever became like that again.  

Y/N saw the tear tracks left on her brother's face and the look in his eyes that told her that he was scared that she was going to vanish right before his eyes. She knew that, as much as this conversation wasn't over, it could wait for another day, and she patted the space next to her on the bed. "Come on, you big old softie." 

"Oi, watch it." Tommy replied, sternly. However Y/N saw the teasing glint in her brother's eyes as he gently wrapped his arm around her shoulder, pulling her close to his chest, and placed a kiss on the top of her head. 

As they lay there, the sun gently began to break through the clouds.

***

Both of them had a lot to learn, they knew that. But they'd do it together in their typical Y/N and Tommy way. 

And the first lesson that Y/N learnt was that when Tommy Shelby said that he wasn't going to let you out of his sight for a while, he really fucking meant it. 

[tomsrebeleyebrow]

scream in italian | th x fem!reader

⚠️ Looks like the tads are broken again…? 😤 UGH 😡🤬 Soooo please, be kind and reblog my works to support me, this will make me really happy 💞⚠️

anonymous asked: Hey, I see u take requests ... so I was wondering if you could write something fluff/smut with tom x foreign!student!reader, like she is from Italy and came to London to study (they have been together since they've first met) she is good at speaking English and all, but sometimes she can't express herself and gets frustrated and she hates when it happens but He thinks it's sexy and it all turns into a very romantic but smutty situation😉 (i really hope it makes sense, if you can't it's ok )

A/N: as being half french half italian, this request was for sure made for me also because i can totally relate to that 😂😂😂 oh and italian is HOT, even when spoke angrily 🤤😉 so, dear nonnie, thank you so much for this. i love you and if you’re italian, i’ll love you even more 💚🤍❤️ also thanks for revealing to the world another kink of mine, jeeeez 😂🙈

‘Stay safe, Cheer up’ blurb event

NSFW CONTENT BELOW, SO BEWARE!

(In this, Reader is a 3D/visual effect assistant still in college)

"Can you believe this!”

The sound of your voice soon followed by the door slamming loudly made Tom jump with surprise. He was currently laying on the couch of the living room, laptop turned on to answer some emails that he had been stuck with for a few days now. But when he heard the noticeable anger in your words, he knew you were really mad, which was quite rare actually.  

“Almost telling me I’m wasting time because I spent way too much hours on the project, only because I put extra attention on details?!”

As Tom closed his laptop, placing it on the coffee table, as your steps stomping closer echoed in the entire house. He didn’t have the time to stand that you just barged in the living room, your jacket, shoes and college bags long gone (probably thrown near the entrance), your face definitely not hiding your actual state.

“Babe, what’s going-”

“That damn teacher” you cut him off without even thinking twice, while opening the fridge to grab something to drink. “Saying ‘you know, nowadays time’s o-only money so do what you’re ask for a-and take the money’!! T-That- that-!!”

Now you were fuming, face all red and almost vapor coming out your ears like a cartoon character. So much angry you began stuttering on some words before completely losing it… and just started speaking in your native language. Italian.

“Che imbecille finito! Sono quella che non chiudeva l’occhio della notte perché mi piace il mio lavoro! Dunque se ho deciso di affinare i dettagli, è il mio problema e non il suo!! E in fin’ dei conti, sono contenta del mio lavoro e del risultato finale, e sarò fiera di poter venderlo a dei ricchi produttori!! Non me ne importa una sega!!” (= “What a damn idiot! I’m the one who haven’t sleep for many nights because I freaking love my job! So if I decided to perfect any details, that’s my own problem and not his!! And in the end I will be happy of the final result of my work, and also proud to be able to sell it to some rich-ass producers!! I don’t fucking care!!”)

You didn’t know for how long you kept going on like that, complaining about your day to Tom but mostly screaming at your soda can, but you definitely let everything out of your chest. And now you were finally better.

But what you didn’t notice until now was Tom standing behind you.

“Say that again” his raspy voice brushed your ear and made you jump, not expecting him to be that close to you.

“Say what again?” you asked, a bit confused while turning towards your boyfriend.

He was indeed close, towering over your frame and staring deeply at you. His hands came to rest on the kitchen counter behind you, caging you with his entire body. You knew that look in his eyes but were still troubled by his request.

“All that gibberish you just said in Italian” Tom stated, his eyes never leaving yours for a second. “Say that again.”

Then the brunette began covering every inch of your face with delicate but sensual kisses, his hands now making their way to your hips to massage them.

“But Tom, you can’t understand a single italian word!” you chuckled at his attitude, letting him continue his rush of tenderness. “Well, apart from pizza and lasagna of course.”

It made Tom laugh against your cheek, as you felt him bring your body closer to him little by little to now being completely pressed against him.

“I love when you speak Italian” he mumbled, popping another kiss on your cheek while squeezing your hips. “... even more when you’re angry, that’s fucking hot and sexy.”

His statement actually made you blush, as Tom also started to nibble your earlobe before you felt him getting excited down there. Not able to resist him any longer your hands slid on his shoulders, nails slightly pressing onto the fabric of his shirt while pushing your hips against his, which made him growl.

“Never thought about bringing that hot accent in the bedroom?”

“Well, we can do it now…”

And you didn’t need to ask Tom twice because now, your brunette lover was pounding into you on the kitchen island.

“A-Ah! Più forte, Tom! O-Oh dio!!” (= “Harder, Tom! O-Oh God!!) you whimpered while arching your back, moaning your lover’s name over and over again.

With a smirk on his face, Tom lifted your hips up with his movement as he eased away before slamming back inside you, not slowing down a single time. He continued to thrust as deeply as he could into your core, the girth of his cock rubbing against your pulsating folds in the most pleasurable way that was making you lose your mind.

“Fuck, keep going baby… s-shit, you squeeze around me like crazy” Tom groans, leaning down more onto you as he continued to move his hips, placing his lips against your neck to sink his teeth slightly into your flesh.

“A-Ancora! O-oh- mi fai impazzire!!” (= “A-Again! O-oh- you make me go insane!!”)

The way you trembled beneath him was the most erotic sight he'd ever beheld.

“A-Amore mio, più veloce! Ti prego!!” (= B-Baby, faster! Please!!”)

And before you could form any more thoughts, his hands glided to the bottom of your ass before meeting your eyes with an animalistic gleam. Your cheeks got so much redder but the moment Tom started to slam your ass onto him to meet with his every thrust, an incredible tight knot consumed the pit of your stomach.

With a final mewl of complete pleasure an euphoric orgasm invaded your body, blurring your vision as your folds completely convulsed against his cock, gripping him in such a tight way that Tom actually moaned your name, before pulling away, stroking his cock a few times to release his cum all over your stomach. Your bodies feels so hot and sweaty because you were both still partially dressed.

After you caught your breath again and also cleaned, Tom carried you on the couch where he just dropped on it with you, making you laugh as you simply laid there into each other’s arms.

“Mind giving me some Italian lessons so next time, I’d actually know what you’re screaming when we mess around?”

“I think I can plan private lessons in my agenda for you, Holland...”

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[zodiyack]

One Of Us

Requested by anon: Hi 💙 could you do a peaky blinders x brother reader where the brother feels left out and goes and does something stupid and the others have to save him but it ends with fluff?? I love your writing so much btw 💙💙

Pairing: Shelby Family & Gray Family + Brother!/Cousin!Male!Reader

Warnings: Swearing, (slight?)angst, fluff, me not proof-reading

Words: 1,937

Taglist: @matth1w​, @redspaceace​, @simonsbluee​, @peakysputain​, @fandom-puff​, @darling-i-read-it​

Masterlist | Peaky Blinders Masterlist

“Y/n- Y/n- Y/n! I don’t see why you have to do this-” Polly pleaded, attempting to block the door and prevent her nephew from leaving.

“Aunt Pol...They never include me. Think I’m not man enough probably, but I’ll prove them wrong.” He held his aunt’s hands. “I’m old enough. Man enough. I’m gonna show my big brothers that I can do it. I promise, I’ll be safe.”

“B-but... Tommy’ll kill me if I let you go. I would kill me if I let you go,” she chuckled, “I can’t just...”

“You’re right.” Y/n hugged his aunt before picking her up and turning around so she was on the opposite side of him and the door. “You can’t. But I can. Goodbye Pol.”

Only three hours ago Y/n and Polly were at the front door. Two hours ago, the boys returned. One hour ago, Tommy had found out. And now, they were discussing what to do or where Y/n even went.

“For fuck’s sake, Pol! All you had to do was watch him!”

Polly’s face, red with tears, showed a newfound rage. “You are not my parent, Thomas! I am your elder, I am your Aunt. Yes, I was supposed to watch him, but you- You will never boss me around like that. Especially when your brother is fucking missing.”

“How would you know if he’s missing or not.”

“Because. He told me that he was going to prove that he was man enough...whatever that means. Anyways, I happen to know that what he said indicates that he’s putting himself in danger.”

Tommy drank straight from the bottle in his hands, eyes wide as they scanned the room. He tried to focus on something else, to get drunk and distracted, but as much as he denied it; his aunt was right. “Get John and Ar-”

She slapped him, earning a bewildered look from her nephew. “I said not to tell me what to do.”

“Go. Get. John. And. Arthur.” Tom groaned and rested his face in his hands, “Trust me, you’re going to want to listen to me, Pol.” He didn’t even have to look up to know that she’d left the room; the door slamming shut and her heels clacking against the floor until they faded out.

The two brothers he’d instructed his aunt to get rushed into the room within about five minutes, panting for breath after running throughout Tommy’s home. He explained the situation to them, “So for whatever reason, our little brother had decided to do something. As for what he’s done... I haven’t a clue.”

“Maybe he went to a bar?”

“Polly said his last words to her before he left had something to do with ‘proving he was man enough.’”

“Man enough?” Arthur narrowed his eyes, “The fuck is that supposed to mean?”

“You reckon he went to go 'become a man’?” John cackled, elbowing his oldest brother and wiggling his brows. Tommy rolled his eyes as he walked over and flicked his younger brother in the ear. “Ouch! Fuck off, Tom!”

“Our younger brother’s sex-life is nothing of our business, and I highly doubt he’d do something like that to prove a point to us...” Tommy walked back to his chair and sat back down. He rested an elbow on his desk and his face upon his fist, thinking.

But that was it.

“Wait...”

“What is it Tommy?” Arthur and John were pulled from their own trances of thought with eagerness to hear what Thomas had to say.

“That’s it.” He stood up. “He wouldn’t do something like that to prove a point to us, but he’d do some other stuff...we just have to think like him.”

John’s head turned to Arthur, the older brother’s actions following his younger’s, as their eyes bulged with realization. “Remember that one time?” John started, catching both his brother’s attention. “At Ada’s party? Y/n was being pushed around by some of Ada’s friends, as well as Ada, so he ran off and hid?”

Arthur’s eyes lit up as he was pulled into the memory, “We all teamed up and thought about the last time he’d hidden and how he strategized.”

“And then we found him, in mother’s closet, huddled in a ball.” Tommy finished, a small smile gracing his features while he reminisced. “He always finds something comfortable and safe in his own opinion. And if he wants to prove something to us, he’ll stay in his comfort zone but step out of ours.”

The three of them held the silence, feeling lost in the childhood euphoria before Ada spoke up from the doorway, startling her brothers slightly. “Richmond.”

“What?”

“One of the people we’re going against with race bets. Felix Richmond. I remember Y/n telling me how, and I quote, ‘fucking stupid Richmond is if he thinks he can go against the Shelbys.’ Then he told me he could take on the man. I thought he was kidding but...“

Polly scoffed as she approached the door, stealing the cigarette from her niece’s fingers and placing it between her own lips. “You’ve got to teach that boy that we are not indestructible.”

“Nah, he’s right.”

“Right,” Ada snatched her cigarette back, ignoring the glare she received from her aunt, “and probably dead.”

“Key word, little sister. Probably.” Arthur winked teasingly as he shrugged his coat on, the other two Shelby brother’s doing the same. 

“What are you doing? Where are you going?”

“To rescue our idiot of a little brother.” Thomas walked to his aunt and grabbed her shoulders. “I promise you, aunt Pol, I’ll come back with him.”

“You better.”

They walked into the mansion, guided by two men with very large and very threatening guns. John couldn’t keep his hands to himself as he followed behind, resulting in him getting nudged by the end of one of the guns.

“Tommy! Arthur! John! My least favorite Shelbys! How are you? Wait- no, don’t answer that. Let me skip the crap, alright?” Felix cleared his throat, “Why the fuck are you here?”

“Our little brother. Really dumb, impulsive...young but acts even younger.”

“Younger?”

“Yeah, younger. Like a spoiled two year old bastard.”

“Ah!” Richmond cackled loudly, holding his stomach. “So all you Shelby boys?”

Almost as if he knew it would happen, Tommy’s arm came up, blocking Arthur from moving forward as a reaction to Richmond’s teasing. “He’s just trying to get to us, Arthur.”

“Well he’s doing a damn good job at it. Where’s our brother, you fucking bastard?”

“That wasn’t very nice.” His eyes moved to Thomas. “Tommy, do me a favor and get your ugly mutt to sit down and shut the hell up.”

Before any of the brothers could do anything about Richmond’s comment, the door behind him opened to reveal two heavily armed men carrying out Y/n, who squirmed and fought as hard as he could. His attempts managed to make him slip from their grasps, as well as give him a good shot at one of the men’s faces. He punched him, gifting him a not-so-pleasant-gift of a black eye before trying to dart down the stairs.

The man who hadn’t been hit grabbed Y/n’s collar, pulling him back harshly.

“You see, I have your brother, and I don’t think he deserves to get away from this without a punishment. He broke into my home, tried to kill me, and just assaulted one of my men.”

“Yes, and we apologize for our brother’s not so wise decisions. Now, please, let him go.” It took everything in Tommy to not pull out his gun and shoot blindly. He knew the odds were nowhere near in his favor; Richmond’s staff were heavily armed and greatly trained. Shooting even one bullet would be the dumbest decision known to man.

Felix thought for a second then scrunched his face with frustration. “Your brothers are here to retrieve you. I’m gonna give you one chance to get out of my home and never return. You got that, boy?” Y/n nodded, “Good. Don’t fuck it up.” He shoved Y/n towards his brothers and began turning and walking back through the doors, “Now get the fuck out of my house, you gypsy fucks.”

As Y/n approached his aunt and sister, his face held guilt and empathy. Polly was the first to walk up to him, her eyes glossy with tears. She didn’t speak, only started at him- checking for any injuries. Just as he was about to lean forward and hug her, she slapped him.

Y/n stumbled back, hand clasping his face as he looked back at his aunt. She furrowed her brows and began to cry before walking forward and hugging him.

Polly pulled away and allowed Ada to hug her younger brother. She shook her head and laughed, squeezing him tightly as she cried into his shoulder. “It’s okay, don’t cry Ada...you’re gonna be okay...”

“Shit, Y/n- I’m not crying because I’m sad, idiot! I’m crying because I’m happy you’re alright. I thought you went and got yourself killed!”

Y/n scratched the back of his neck nervously, Ada walking backwards to pull away from their hug. With a chuckle, he confessed the thoughts that’d been haunting him since they’d left Richmond’s mansion. “To be honest, I think I would’ve had these three not shown up.”

His aunt walked back over to them, handing each of the five a glass and filling it up. “The next time you even think of do something like that,” she paused, lifting the bottle upright and holding eye contact with Y/n, “I’ll gut you myself.”

The rest of the night went by in a blur, cheers and hugs passed around in celebration. But once again, Y/n felt left out. He knew the party was for him, but the smiles and cheery spirits...it just felt like he didn’t deserve them.

Sitting outside, he hid in plain sight while he nursed a bottle of gin. He was right next to the front doors, practically starring off into space as they world around him was flushed out. Well, as he tried to flush it out.

Tommy burst through the doors to light himself a cigarette and enjoy the fresh air, but his plans changed when he noticed his little brother and his state of absence. He chuckled, putting the unlit stick back into it’s box and walked over to the boy by the doors.

“Y/n?”

He smiled and shook his head as Y/n jumped slightly. “Y-yeah, Tommy?”

“I wanted to say...I’m sorry.”

“For what?” Y/n looked up at his brother.

“For making you feel like you didn’t belong. Like you didn’t quite fit in. Believe me, you fit in perfectly. It’s my fault you don’t feel like it though. I’m so caught up in keeping you as this little boy from before I went to war, but you’re not a little boy. You’re eighteen. Finn’s a little boy, but you’re not.”

Thomas groaned, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a bunched up cloth looking item, “It’s time I acknowledge that for once.” He smoothed it out, “So, how about we make a deal. You wear this and know you’re one of us,” he placed the infamous Peaky-cap on Y/n’s head, “or spend the rest of your life trying to prove something we all, including you, already know.”

He grabbed the gin from Y/n’s hand and walked to the door, stopping only for a second to deliver his younger brother a smile and a message; “You never need to prove it, but nevertheless, you’ve proved it today in more ways than one. You’ve got the Shelby spirit, brother. You’re one of us.”