#i want the soft interactions and kisses on the cheek and tommy just gently holding his hand

[skateboardtotheheart]

it's not a want but a NEED for tommy and buck to be the softest loveliest relationship ever, it is IMPORTANT

[lonely-lost-soul]

Under the Floorboards

(Technoblade x Reader) link to Pt. II :)

Picking up a bundle of wood you let out a soft breath, you watched as it escaped out your lips in front of you in a small cloud. Trudging through the snow you made your way back to your house, well it wasn’t really your house. A few months ago you ran into Technoblade while he was searching for a new home far away from this place called L’manburg; he told you he was in retirement and was surprised to find another person all the way out here. As a wandering adventurer, you eventually won him over with your charm, wit, and humor.

That was a joke of course.

You both started a mutual trade agreement, on your way back from the adventures you’d always take a pit stop at his place so he could see if you had anything worth trading. It started slow, he realized you would come back very late at night, and very weary. He offered you to stay the night once, then once turned into twice and before you knew it you began to stay at his place after every late-night adventure. As you spent more time together he helped you become a better fighter, and farmer and you helped him learn social skills and how to cook food that wasn’t steak.

He never told you about his time in the country of L’manburg or why he was in retirement in the first place but you didn’t mind. Everyone has their secrets and even if both of you were considered friends at this point you never pried. Not even when you’d catch him mumbling to himself about chat, or the bloodthirsty look in his eyes after he killed an animal. You kept your mouth shut out of respect, you could tell he appreciated the gesture.

You earned yourself a friendship emerald after he introduced you to his oldest friend Philza, the man treated you like you were his family. It made you feel wanted and welcome, Techno had a little smile on his face the entire interaction as the both of you bonded. In his mind he was ecstatic his two favorite people were getting along. Techno walked Philza out of the house and returned holding an emerald out to you, you knew how valuable these emerald were to him. You were in such shock and awe you almost started crying which caused him to panic.

“I’ll treasure it with my life.” You told him kissing said emerald gently, blush spread across his pale face to his pointed ears.

“I’m glad.” He rubbed the back of his neck, “Chat- chat stop I’m not simp.” You heard him whisper hiss softly but you ignored it, choosing to smile at him instead. He noticed and his blush only deepened. You took his hand, it was so small intertwined in his own, and squeezed it softly.

Eventually, the both of you grew closer than just friends which understandably scared the half pigman to death. You caught him mumbling to himself more frequently, especially when you both were out fighting monsters and gaining experience.

Things like: “I’m not a simp” and “Calm down I’m gonna protect her” as well as “I can’t just say that!” Were very frequent mumblings of his, your brow furrowed and after fighting a baby zombie you turned towards him,

“Hey Technoblade you doing okay?”

“Yes!” He sputtered out reassuring you that he was just fine by saving you from a Skeleton.

You two watched the sunset that same day from on top of a snowy mountain and he confessed to you. The confession was a bit rough around the edges but then again so was he, so to you, it was perfect. You took his hands to get him to stop rambling and kissed his knuckles. He made an embarrassed sound and looked away from you, you cooed teasingly at him and accepted. From then on you both were attached at the hip, well as attached as he’d let you be there was still that level of awkwardness that came with any new relationships but it was wonderful. You’d both spent hours by the fireside as he read to you, you’d help him care for Carl and get enchanted books all the while you were in awe of this magnificent and mysterious man before you.

Shaking your head smiling to yourself you trudged back to his house, the emerald around your neck bounced in tandem with your steps. Technoblade never liked leaving you alone, you reminded him constantly that you had a life before he was in it but he still seemed to be on edge. You figured it had something to do with his past so you did your best to reassure him that you’d be safe when he was away; Techo seemed to appreciate your efforts at least. Whenever he got back from what you assumed was visiting Phil (after all, Carl was gone), you were going to run him a bath and braid his hair the way he liked. Maybe you’d make him a nice dinner then you’d both fall asleep together while reading. It’d earn you some soft kisses and snuggles later, you giggled to yourself as you put away the wood. If you told anyone else this giant of a man, who you’ve seen wipe out hordes of monsters like it was nothing, loves to be cuddled at night they’d call you insane.

You wandered down into the basement to feed his cow but the sound of a blocks-breaking startled you out of your daydream. You whipped around pulling out your sword in the way Technoblade showed you and came face to face with a blonde child peeking out from the floorboards.

“What the FUCK?!” You both shrieked at one another, he moved to try and scramble back down the hole. You followed him down his ladder, you weren’t going to let this child get away with living under your boyfriends’ house so easily. You backed him into a corner and took note of his beat-up appearance and his attempts to look brave as he held up his hands. Sweat gathered on his brow but you didn’t let your guard down, before you could open your mouth to question him he began to talk so fast and loud you could barely keep up.

“OI, OI, OI, OI! LADY, LADY, LADY, CALM DOWNNNN CALM DOWN! SEE, SEE WE’RE BOTH IN TROUBLE CAUSE WE’RE BOTH STEALING- BORROWING FROM THE BLADE! THE BLADE KNOWS ME! I AM HIS LITTLE BROTHER, TOMMY, I AM SURE YOU’VE HEARD OF ME! THEREFOR I’M NOT DOING ANYTHING WRONG. YOU-YOU, ON THE OTHER HAND, ARE A STRANGER! YOU KNOW HE’S A BLOOD GOD RIGHT? HE’LL ABSOLUTELY KILL YOU, BUT BUT! IF WE KEEP THIS BETWEEN US I WON’T HAVE TO TELL HIM ANYTHING AT ALL FAIR? SEEMS FAIR TO ME-”

You reached your hand out to cover his mouth, your eyes narrowed into slits, “Start again. Softer and slower. Techno never told me he had a brother.” You watched the eyes of the blonde widen in surprise, assumingly at the notion that you already knew Technoblade. Slowly you removed your hand from his mouth but didn’t lower your guard. He cleared his throat, swallowing tentatively.

“I’m Tommy. We’re not related by blood- who ARE you?” he pressed still completely baffled at the appearance of a GIRL who knew Technoblade. Before you could even respond to him he let out another baffled cry. “DOES HE SIMP FOR YOU!?” He shrieked pointing at you as he waved his finger around. “THERE’S NO WAY- HE DOES HOLY SHIT!” Tommy laughed as you blinked rapidly, how was he able to read all that without you even saying anything? You were trying to process who this kid was while also being stuck on the blood god thing. You felt Tommy’s arm around your shoulders suddenly as he pulled you close. “Well, Miss Blade now that we know who you are maybe we can strike a deal-“

“Absolutely Not.”

“HEY! Come on now.” Tommy whined loudly, “I need your help here! Look I’m sure you know why he’s in hiding and all...and well...I might’ve pissed the same people off and-”

“Actually no. I didn’t know that…” You spoke softly deflating a little, “He’s in hiding? From who exactly.”

A look of shock came across Tommy’s face, “You mean...you don’t know? Like about L’manburg and his betrayal.”

“Does it sound like I know? Look Tommy you seem like a nice kid really, but you need to leave-”

“Nonononnonononono. Look it’s fine, I’ve been living here for weeks now-”

“WEEKS?” You snarled a pink flush coming to your cheeks, you grabbed the boy’s arm and began to drag him up the ladders in Techno’s house. Hee was going to kill you like actually this time. You were about to throw open the door but it swung open in front of you. Techno was standing there completely bruised and bloody and you immediately dropped Tommy in favor of him.

“Oh my god Techno what happened?” You breathed out a worried breath he was about to respond before he noticed Tommy. He grabbed you by the arm and pushed you behind him guarding you with his body.

“Tommy.” He snarled as the boy once again shrieked and booked it back down the ladder Techno turned towards you, “Stay here.” Technoblade commanded you softly the look in his eyes could only be described as desperate. “Don’t leave. Please.”

“I won’t…” You murmured watching him disappear after the British boy, you hoped he was going to explain everything to you after he dealt with the raccoon. You could hear them shouting from down below you, you couldn’t push it off any longer you needed to get answers from him.

~~~~~~

Part II maybe? Lmk if there’s an interest! Cause I love this man with my whole heart! Thanks so much for reading 🥺✨ link to Pt. II :)

[worminstuff]

The Balcony of the Treehouse pt. 4

sleepy bois x reader au

warnings: sad. sm sad.

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

Techno glanced down at Y/n his eyes wide. Y/n leaned forward away from his chest staring at the rug.

Techno stood, offering at hand down at Y/n and she sighed, taking his hand to let him pull her up. Techno watched as her shoulders sank.

“Do you regret it?” Techno asked, his face stonic.

“Regret what?” Y/n looked up at him.

“The kiss.” he slid one of his hands into his pocket.

Y/n looked to the doorway where Wilbur stood, she pictured his face and how he was hiding so many emotions at that moment she'd looked at him.

“I'm not sure.” she glanced at him for a second and watched a flash of hurt cross his face before she looked away again.

Techno watched her as she silently made her way out of the treehouse. He stood a moment longer processing what she said. He felt a surge of hurt pass through him at her words. He was still basking in the way her lips had felt on his and how she melted into him. 

What was she so unsure of? Yeah Wilbur had seen them but why should that matter?

He sighed and followed her.

Y/n walked in the house first finding Tommy standing near one of the chairs.

“Waiting on me?” Y/n smiled at tommy. Wilbur felt a burn in the pit of his stomach.

“Wanna sit next to you.” Tommy mumbled.

“Alright kiddo, pick one and I'll sit next to you.” she gestured towards the chairs.

Techno had walked in only moments after her, standing a bit behind watching the little interaction between her and his little brother.

“You don't want to sit next to me Tommy?” Techno said with his brows raised.

Tommy looked up at him for a moment, Tommy admired Techno greatly, but like the other two boys there was just something gravitational about Y/n to tommy.

Tommy climbed into a chair that was closest to him and patted the one next to him looking at Y/n.

Y/n laughed, “i guess that's a no huh?” she looked up at Techno, not laughing as much after she saw his face. 

He was staring down at her, his face emotionless but his eyes were boring holes straight in her heart. He gave her arm a small nudge, “go on. Stop staring.” he nodded over her shoulder to his little brother who was sitting looking over the back of the chair waiting for her semi patently.

Her breath hitched her throat as she quickly sat next to tommy. Y/n hadn't even realized Wilbur was sat diagonal to her.

Techno took a seat on the end of the table near Tommy and after placing food in front of everyone, Phil sat next to will.

Once everyone had filled their plates, conversation rolled in.

“Y/n are you staying tonight?” he looked to her, almost hopefully. Y/n glanced at Techno, he only stared for a moment before he gave her a subtle nod.

“Yeah, if that's alright. Parents aren't even home anyways so..” she looked back to Phil who nodded,

“Good! I've been having a hard time getting tommy to bed lately so maybe you can tuck him in tonight? Might help a bit.” Phil smiled at Tommy who was clearly busy shoving his face full of mashed potatoes.

“Sure!” Y/n shot him a smile before staring down at her plate.

She was desperately trying to decipher what Techno was thinking, and feeling. Wilbur too.

She would have never been able to guess what was going through his head though.

Wilbur was stealing small glances at her every once in a while. He couldn't get the sight of her laid back with her head to the side, Techno holding her so softly and kissing her even softer. Thinking of it again gave him chills. His first thought when seeing them was shock of course, but it slowly molded into anger and sadness and even guilt.

She was just flirting with him, and then she does that? Or was she never flirting in the first place? 

He had to be honest with himself, could she really even think to choose him over Techno? How could she? They're everything together. They've been the perfect pair since they were just little kids. 

Yet he held so much hope she may have still had that small inkling of something in her heart for him. He wanted to be the one to hold her and kiss her, he wanted to be the one always causing that cute bashful blush to cross her cheeks. He wanted her.

While Wilbur was getting emotional in his own head, Techno was staring at her leg. Y/n had this nervous habit, Techno was sure Wilbur didn't even know this existed, when Y/n gets nervous or anxious her leg starts to bounce. Sometimes ring her hands, or even try to grab his hand to have something to do with her hands to calm her down. 

Y/n actually had many habits he was well aware of. When she gets frustrated she scrunches her nose up like a bunny, when she's overwhelmed she shakes her hands as if she's trying to get water off them, and when she's tired and she doesn't want to tell him she'll grasp the edge of his shirt and just hold it. That ones his favorite. Techno would bet good money Wilbur had never even taken the time to notice these things.

And unknown to Techno, he'd lose that bet.

Wilbur was aware of these things,  but from his angle sitting across from her he couldn't see her legs.

Techno stared at her, her eyes were trained on the table cloth, while she moved the food on her plate around. He wanted her to look at him so he could try and read her and figure out if she was okay.

Y/n wasn't one for conflict, and he hated to say it but she has created a bit of a problem. 

“Pwetty!” Tommy exclaimed as he dropped his fork onto his plate.

“Tommy, don't talk with your mouth full.” Phil scolded.

Y/n looked at the blond boy standing up in his chair next to her, “what's pretty? Your cup?” Y/n pointed to the cup that sat beside his plate that had little music disks painted on it.

“Y/n/n!” he said as if it were obvious.

Y/n was a bit speechless, he'd even said her nickname. Tommy was really the only one who used it anymore, but it was still surprising. Wilbur and Phil's eyes had gone wide. Techno was confused.

“He's probably just-” Wilbur tried to buy in but Tommy had cut him off.

“Wilby said Y/n/n was pwetty.” he pointed at his oldest brother.

Wilber sighed, and closed his eyes.

Techno on the other hand, Techno could feel his ears growing red. When did he say that? To Tommy especially!

“O-oh. uhum, that's very sweet, t-tommy.” Y/n was visibly uncomfortable. She wasn't uncomfortable with the compliment itself, she just knew it wasn't particularly something she was supposed to hear. She was also sure Techno wasn't supposed to hear it.

“Y/n you're quite finished, do you wanna go get those things you need for the night?” Phil was trying to hand her a way out, for her, but also so he could talk to his boys.

“Right! Yes, I'll go do that and I will be right back!” she stood quickly, walking fast to the door with her head down.

Techno watched her leave, still sat in utter confusion and slight anger. 

Phil sighed, “what the hell happened? You three just made up and now she's all twitchy and uncomfortable and she barely ate! What did you do?” He pointed an accusing finger at Techno.

“Me?!” Techno exclaimed.

“He kissed her.” Wilbur said, looking beside him at phil.

“You what?!” Phil wasn't sure what to feel, angry? Proud?

Techno's shoulder sank as he slid a hand over his face.

“That's not anyone's business.” he mumbled.

“Oh i think it is!” Phil was now feeling the anger, how could that not be his business? After all that had happened in the past few days and Techno being Phil's son! This was very much his business.

“It was just..I-I don't know what it was, okay?” Techno looked at his father, the thought of Y/n looking at him and telling him she wasn't sure if she regretted kissing him or not, still fresh in his thoughts.

“You don't?” Wilbur sounded a little too hopeful. Maybe the kiss was nothing? He really did hope so.

“Oh shut up Wilbur!” Techno glared at Wilbur.

“Me shut up? How about you go slobber all over Y/n again like Tommy!” Wilbur spat back, his blood boiling.

Tommy was starting to get overwhelmed with all the anger. But this time around, he didn't get a nap that day.

Wilbur and Techno continued to bicker until Tommy decided to pick up his plate, and throw it to the floor.

All three looked at Tommy instantly, seeing his small face scrunched up and red. He was angry.

Meanwhile, Y/n had just managed to crack open the window to her bedroom. She hadn't gotten her key from her bag before she left, and she didn't want to walk back in awkwardly or chance that Techno was already back up at the treehouse, alone.

She wiggled her way into the room, and pulled the metal bead on her lamp causing a soft glow to emit in her room now. She grabbed a small bag and grabbed some of her overnight  things, throwing them in quickly.

Just as she was about to grab a pillow, she noticed the sweater sitting on her bed. She sat down on the bed next to it, picking it up gently.

It was the sweatshirt she'd slept in the night before.

She pulled it up to her face, feeling the fabric on her skin, smelling his cologne. 

Her eyes started to well up as she realized everything that had happened.

She clutched the sweatshirt tight as her emotions started to overtake a bit. She sobbed into the sweater as her shoulders shook and she heaved for air.

Wilbur liked her, very clearly, but she'd kissed Techno.

She liked it too.

She had kissed her best friend, and she liked it. 

She liked the way he was gentle and the way he was so careful but passionate.

But she also liked how Wilbur got nervous around her, how he gave her his sweater. He'd even tried to give  her flowers!

And Y/n had hurt both of them. 

She didn't mean to obviously, she loved them both. She just..didn't know how.

Techno is her best friend, her lanky, smart, sweet, cuddly, bookworm of a best friend. She loved his smile, his messy pink hair, his cheeky grin. She loved the way he always acted as if he were her protector, her knight in shining armor.

Wilbur, Wilbur was her childhood crush. She had the hugest crush on him as a little girl, all the way until she was 12! She gave up after a while, but she couldn't help  but feel a soft spot for him. He was always sweet to her in their few interactions, and he seemed to care so much for her.

She wasn't going to force herself to pick one of them now, or hopefully ever. Not only would that ruin her, but it might ruin their relationship a bit.

Y/n started to wonder if she should just stay home, sleep all day tomorrow too so she didn't have to see either of them at school.

It sounded like a good plan until she realized she promised Phil she would tuck Tommy into bed that night.

With a sniffle Y/n set the sweater back down next to her pillows and stood up. She took a deep breath, wiped her eyes and decided she would take a quick shower to give herself a bit to calm down before she headed back over.

Back with the boys, Phil managed to calm Tommy down after Wilbur and Techno stopped fighting. Wilbur had abruptly stood up and went to his bedroom, he was quite done listening to Techno.

Techno helped Phil clean up the table, and even held Tommy on his hip to keep him calm.

Tommy was clutching his shirt in his small hand as his head was rested on Techno.

“She's been a bit long don't you think?” Phil asked Techno from the sink.

“I guess..maybe she started nervous cleaning?” Techno said. That was another thing Y/n did often.

Just as Phil was going to say he should go check on her, the front door opened.

Techno leaned a bit to the side, to see the doorway from where he was standing. Y/n had just closed the front door and was making her way towards the kitchen. Upon seeing her, Tommy started to wiggle around in Techno's arms, wanting to get to Y/n.

Once she was close enough Techno handed him off. Tommy wrapped his arms around her neck and his legs around her middle, clinging to her.

Techno touched a strand of her wet hair, “you..showered?” he asked.

“I..yeah. Just wanted a moment to myself and all.” she only slightly lied.

Techno nodded, he knew she was hiding something that happened while she was gone.

“Wilby and Techno were bein mean wif out you.'' Tommy mumbled into Y/ns shoulder.

“Sorry?” Y/n asked, looking up at Techno. Phil made his way out of the kitchen, Techno shot him a harsh glance as he escaped.

“They were yelling.” Tommy said, picking his head up to look at her. She smoothed out some of his messy hair.

“They were? Why kiddo?” she looked at Techno towards the end of her sentence.

His face was soft, he loved to watch Y/n with tommy. He tried to snap himself out of his thoughts before Tommy could make anything worse.

“How about I tell you about that at the treehouse,” he said to Y/n placing a hand on her arm softly, “and we get you to bed, kid” he looked at tommy. Y/n nodded, agreeing with him.

Techno gave her a soft look, she really did look like a mess and he felt bad. He hated seeing her anything other than happy.

“I'll go up now, and you can come up once you've got him to sleep. He'd never fall asleep if i'm there.” he grabs her bag from the ground beside her, “and i'll set up a spot for..us?..” he was skeptical if they would sleep beside each other like normal or not. Y/n thought for a moment before nodding. 

“Yeah, i know there's a blanket up there but i grabbed a bigger one for the both of us so..” she said timidly.

You couldn't tell from the outside, but inside Techno was absolutely ecstatic at that. He didn't know if he'd be able to handle sleeping a few feet away knowing she'd had such a hard day.

Tommy grumpily shot Techno a glare from Y/ns arms and they both laughed.

“Jeez okay tommy I get it, you want her all to yourself that's fine” he raised both his hands in mock surrender, as he made his way out of the kitchen. Just as he was passing through the backdoor out of earshot he mumbled to himself, “we all do.”

Y/n carried Tommy to the bathroom down the hall so he could brush his teeth. But as she passed Wilbur's door, she heard the faint familiar strum of his old guitar.

She didn't stop to listen like she wanted to though. 

As Tommy and Y/n got to the bathroom she set him down so he could climb onto the small stool and sat in front of the sink for him. She helped him get his toothpaste on his toothbrush and stood in the doorway as she watched him lazily brush his teeth.

She couldn't help but focus on the unfamiliar tune Wilbur was strumming.

Wilbur was up against the wall, sitting on his bed. His guitar in his lap. He stared at his feet as he strummed a tune to a song he was making up as he went.

He felt helpless, he'd fallen so hard for a girl he couldn't have.

I think this time I'm dying.

His heart felt like stone as he pictured her rosy cheeks when he handed her his sweater only days ago.

I'm not melodramatic

He wouldn't let himself cry over her, he wouldn't

I'm just pragmatic beyond any

A tear slipped from the corner of his eye.

Reasoning for thinking I've

Wilbur clenched his teeth. She kissed his brother. She looked content in his arms.

Got fucking rabies or something.

She was the one making him think wildly, she was the one he was waking up excited to see every morning.

I think this time I'm dying.

He thought about how he longed to hold her the way he got to.

I think this time I'm dying.

Why was he so hurt? Why did it hurt so bad?

I think I've lost my mind

She made him feel so much and he couldn't stand it. It was her fault.

Wilbur dropped his head back, heaving in a deep breath. He looked to the floor, a pack of cigarettes next to his backpack. His body shook as tears flowed out of his eyes, his arms too heavy to wipe them. He was far too exhausted to move to get his lighter, or the cigarettes. He just wanted to feel something other than her.

Lucky for Y/n, Tommy had decided he was done with brushing his teeth just when Wilbur had started to sing. She figured it was better for her to not hear the words he was singing into his room. 

Tommy looked at her expectantly as he stepped down from the tiny toddler stool. She held her hand out for him, which he took.

Grabbing two of her fingers, she tugged him along to his bedroom to help him pick out some pjs to sleep in.

“Cars or superheroes?” Y/n held up to sleep shirts, referring to the patterns. Tommy pointed to a shirt on the floor by her foot. She glanced down at it, then picked it up taking a look at it.

“Is this...Techno’s?” she smiled softly looking at the small boy.

“Uh huh.” he said. 

“How'd you get it?” she asked. Techno wasn't really one for sharing his clothes.

Tommy shrugged and she nodded, bunching it up so he could slide it over his head. It looked huge on Tommy, it was almost past his feet. 

She pulled back the covers for Tommy and he crawled in, sitting up to look at her.

“Do you still have Wilbys?” he asked.

Y/n's heart dropped as she thought of the sweater sitting on her bed. “Uh..yeah. I do yeah.”

“I want one of your sweaters.” he said grumpily. 

Y/n laughed softly, “why's that?” she sat on the edge of his bed.

“Cause that will mean you like me. That's what Wilby said.” he said matter of factly.

Y/ns heart clenched. She sort of wished Tommy would go back to being quiet and angry. When did he get so aware?

“Right. You can have one of my sweaters, if you go to sleep and stay in bed tonight. No bugging ph-dad. Sounds like a deal?” she gave him a smile, he nodded quickly. Y/n helped Tommy lay back and pulled the covers up around him. She placed a small kiss on his forehead before saying a soft goodnight.

On her way out, she turned off his little lamp, and closed his door behind her softly.

She was almost out of the hallway when she passed Wilbur's door, her feet felt glued to the food.

Softly she pressed her ear up to the door hearing soft sniffles. He wasn't crying..was he?

Y/n took a deep breath, shaking her head. She was hearing things obviously.

 Quickly she walked to the backyard to go up the ladder on the tree to the treehouse.

Once she was up, she made her way in to see Techno on the floor, criss cross with a book in his lap. His rectangle glasses low on his nose as he looked up at her.

“Tommy's got one of your shirts you know.” she said as she sat in front of him, also criss cross.

“He does?” Techno said, taking off his glasses.

“Mhm.” she said, taking the glasses from his hands.

A soft smile graced Techno's lips, “How'd he manage that?”

“Not sure. He wouldn't tell.” she placed them on her face, holding her hand out to look at her blurry fingers.

Techno grinned at her.

“Of course he wouldn't. Those look nice on you.” he tilted his head fondly. He really loved moments like these.

“Too bad I can't see. How blind are you?” she looked in the general direction of his face.

He chuckled, “they're only for reading, idiot.” he grabbed them from her face softly.

Y/n rolled her eyes at him.

Techno set the glasses and book aside, “the sky is super clear tonight. We could go look at the stars if you want.”

Y/n grinned. They used to do that all the time as a kid. They would sit for hours, and Y/n would listen to Techno ramble on and on about certain constellations and stories behind them.

She nodded and he offered a hand as he stood. Pulling her up with him as she laid her hand on his.

Together they made their way onto the balcony, sitting on the edge, their legs dangling off the side and their arms resting on the railing.

They were facing the house, but looking upwards above it.

After a bit of comfortable silence, Techno glanced at Y/n. “Remember how you said..you weren't sure..if you uhm regretted..the kiss?” he spoke slowly, softly.

Y/n was silent a moment before she said, “I do. Why?”

“Well I want to know why you feel like that.” he said, eyes trained on the small glittery lights above them.

“Well..i don't know..on one hand i really don't.” she looked at him. “But on the other hand..i feel really guilty.”

Techno nodded, he did understand. But he didn't particularly like that answer.

“You shouldn't feel guilty. Especially if you..liked it.” he looked to her, seeing her already looking back at him. His hand slid over hers. “You're allowed to be selfish sometimes.”

She only stared at him.

“If you..if you like me. The way I think you do. He shouldn't be the one holding you back. Be selfish. You deserve to feel your own feelings.” Techno's voice was so soft, and he was sitting so close.

“Do you understand that?” his eyebrows were raised. He was leaning over her, she felt an immense heat radiating off of both of them.

She nodded.

“Words.” he demanded softly.

“I understand.” her face was so close to his. She felt like she was back sitting between his legs laid against him with his hands on her all over again.

He really sealed that image in her head by placing his soft hand against her cheek.

Wilbur had finally gained the strength to set his guitar aside, then slid his legs over the side of his bed.

With wobbly legs he stood, and picked up his lighter from his table and his cigarettes from the floor. He sat back on his bed, and as he was about to open his window, he glanced up at the treehouse that adorned his backyard.

His breath hitched in his throat, he watched as Techno placed his second hand on the base of Y/ns neck and pulled her in. placing a chaste kiss on her lips.

Wilbur choked on air, falling onto his side. The cigarettes and lighter in his hands fell. He curled up into a fetal position as his body shook. No tears were left for him to cry, but the heaves of air and choked sobs were a tell tale there would be tears if he had them.

How did he always manage to do everything, at the wrong time?

[whitefawnn]

blood letting (pt. 1)

(c!wilbur x reader) - 4/29 dsmp spoilers

warnings: blood, manipulation, vampires, blood loss, dizziness, swearing

pt. 2 pt. 3 pt. 4 pt. 5

note: read the warnings

A loud knock resonated throughout my empty home. Insistent and repeating. I rubbed the sleep from my eyes, careening my head to look at the neon numbers that illuminated my room from the clock on my bedside table.

“12:23” I muttered, “What kind of psychopath knocks on a door at 12:23?” I pulled myself up from my warm bed, padding down the wooden stairs, I shivered as the cold air of the night swallowed me whole. I didn’t hesitate to swing the door open, maybe a foolish choice considering the time. I was met by the sight of a ghost, a walking corpse with a wide smile. 

“Wilbur?” I stuttered out as the lanky man stared down at me with a smile. He had been dead for months. I had been without him for months, the rise and fall of his chest made me feel dizzy. I looked him up and down, haunted by the yellow sweater that resembles Ghostbur’s.

“Are you not going to invite me in?” he cooed, leaning down closer to my face. “We have some things to discuss, y/n.” I blinked at him.

“Wilbur, how are you here?” I rubbed my eyes once again, wondering if sleep had caused me to imagine the charming man stood in front of me. His skin seemed paler, his hands wrapped in tan bandages. He looked like his likeness should have been caught in a painting. Carefully caught with the brushes of an artist. I jumped at the sound of rattling bones and spotted a skeleton behind him. I wasted no time pulling him inside by his jacket, shutting the heavy wooden door behind us. I couldn’t lose him again so quick. “You have some explaining to do,” I said, my back pressed against the cool wood watching as he sauntered over to my dining table, pulling out a chair with a relieved sigh. He collapsed into the wooden chair, one of his legs extended out further than the other. He stretched his arms up towards the ceiling, groaning at the feeling.

“What is there to explain, my dear? Seeing is believing after all.” his smile caused a shiver to run down my spine as he used his hands to gesture towards his present body. His canines seemed unnaturally sharp. I studied the disheveled appearance, one of his arms bandaged and bloody. My eyes jumped up to the snow-white streak that was painted into his hair.

“Holy shit, your hair,” I walked over to him, placing an exploratory hand to feel the new white streak. His hair felt soft, the curly auburn locks feeling familiar between my fingers. He laid his freezing hand on my wrist, pulling my hand from his hair and down to his chapped lips, littering kisses on my knuckles with a smirk.

“Do you like the new hair, my love.” I eagerly nodded as I fell down into the chair beside him.

“How are you back?” I stared at him with a set expression, his eyes a wine red. “I saw you die, Phil he, he stabbed you. I made your grave, Wilbur.”

“Dream,” he smiled “he resurrected me.” my eyes were wide, struck by disbelief.

“I thought he was in prison, the revival book was his leverage to stay alive?”

“and it still is. Though I owe him now, darling.” he rested his chin on his hand with a faraway smile and a predatory look. “He’s why I get to see you again. That being said, not all good things are just good.” I turned my head as he reached out to caress my cheek with his free hand. It was a freezing weight against my face. “There are new consequences after being dead for so long, ones that Tommy had the pleasure to not be afflicted with” he spoke, maintaining eye contact.

“What are you talking about, Wilbur?” a pit began to form in my stomach as the interaction seemed to grow sour. 

“I need something from you, y/n.” his eyes seemed to grow darker “Dream, well he told me about something it said in the revive book. If I want to stay here I need to feed on something less than typical.”

“What do you mean, Wilbur?” he chuckled as he watched me stare at him in horror, I began to squirm under his gaze. “Are you going to kill me?” my voice wavered as I felt my eyes begin to water at the prospect. A pang of hurt ran through my heart at the idea that he thought so little of our prior relationship, that I had felt so happy to see him again. My head was dizzy as I realized what danger I was in, his hand still placed on my face.

“No, no, my love, I could never hurt you. I need you.” he scooted closer to me, now able to feel the way cool air left his parted lips. “In more ways than one,” My relief was rapidly overshadowed. “i need your blood…..” he trailed off, placing his face into the crook of my neck. I felt frozen in fear as he inhaled my scent then ran his sharp teeth along the length of my neck. “You smell sweet”

“W-Wilbur,” I whimpered out as I relished the way the long scratches he left in his wake stung.

“What do you say, y/n?” he asked, pulling away to look me in the eyes.

“Anything for you,” I said, watching as his smile grew at my confession. He returned to his place  near my neck, sucking a bruise. 

“It might hurt, my love.” he whispered in my ear, biting at my earlobe. He placed a hand to rest on the back of my neck, a way to ground me. I braced myself, tilting my head to give him better access to the expanse of my neck. I felt as he opened his mouth, focusing on the feeling of the sharp teeth pressing against my soft skin. He swiftly dug the fangs into me, and a small cry escaped past my lips. I winced at the shooting pain that traveled through my body similar to a wave of electricity. The stabbing pain quickly was replaced by an intense tingling. My head began to feel foggy, my vision less sharp around the edges. I looked down at Wilbur’s head that was stuffed into the crook of my neck. A wave of affection went over me almost overcoming the fuzz. I connected my hand to the shorter hair at the back of his head. 

“Mmhm” I hummed out, my voice feeling tight and stretched. Wilbur pulled away from my neck, heaving. He licked the bite marks, his tongue warm against my neck, lapping up the blood that pooled on the wound.

“You taste so good, darling. Intoxicating.” he sat back in his chair with a heavy sigh. His features were now soft as I watched him with watery eyes. I reached up to cup the injury on my neck with hesitant fingers. The bite didn’t hurt, even when I pressed my fingertips against it. 

“Wilbur,” I called out, him rushing to hold me up in the chair, something I didn’t even know I needed. I realized how instead I felt when his hands came up to hold my face.

“Fuck,” he whispered as he looked into my eyes with worry. I watched as he tracked where I watched. “You’re okay.” he scooped me into his arms carrying me to our formerly shared bedroom. I laid limp in his arms, not strong enough to move my limbs or adjust my head. The swaying motion of Wilbur walking made me feel increasingly disoriented. He gently placed me down on the soft mattress. The feeling of the fur blankets on my skin almost enough to overwhelm my addled brain.

“Wilbur,” I whimpered again, grabbing onto his sleeve. The way he seemed to bleed into the rest of the world made me feel like sobbing. “Are you there? Are you real?” I cried out as I watched his face contort into one of confusion.

“Of course I am,” he said with his honeyed voice running a rough hand through my hair. “I’m back and I’m not leaving you.” He sat down beside me continuing to play with my hair. I felt myself slip away still wondering if what had happened was all real. Desperately trying to see Wilbur’s face in focus and commit it to my memory.

[moral-turpitudes]

House Calls:

A/N: I’m in no way a doctor or even a med student, I just used google and went off my own experiences with fevers...so yeah lol. I’m screaming at how cute Soft!Tommy is though like I think I’m dead. RIP to me and my ovaries.

Trigger Warnings: Angst, FLUFF. Some flirty shit at the end.

Word Count: 1,640

Characters: Thomas Shelby x Female Reader

Request: ��Could you perhaps write a one-shot Tommy x reader and the reader would work as a doctor and one day she would be called to treat John or Charlie (doesn’t matter) and she would be able to cure them and Thomas would be very grateful for it. I think that might be very cute but if you don’t like the idea it’s okay!! 😃😃”

Requested by: Anon

Summary: Y/N is summoned to Thomas Shelby’s house to help cure his ailing son, not knowing she’d catch the eye of the usually cold-hearted gang leader.

Part 1 | Part 2

Around 5am a rough, rattling cough came from the depths of Charlie’s lungs, startling him awake and causing him to cry between ragged breaths. His frail screaming pierced the air, sending Tommy shooting out of bed, grabbing his gun from his nightstand, and darting straight to his sons room. He panicked internally, while flinging the door open for any signs of danger, only to be met with Charlies cries and outstretched hands.

Tommy took a deep breath and sighed, scooping him up and taking a seat in the rocking chair near his crib. As he fought sleep, he looked at the pale blue ceiling of his sons room, listening to Charlie’s ragged breaths. With a furrowed brow, he lifted him up, bringing his forehead to his lips, confirming his suspicions of a fever. The poor thing was flushed red in the face, a light sheen of sweat developing on his skin as his hot tears soaked his face.

“Shhh...it’s okay. Daddy’s got ya. We’re going to call a doctor okay?” He said, trying to gently coo to calm Charlie down. He was whining and fussy and showing no signs of the fever breaking anytime soon.

Tommy gently got up with him and brought him to his bedroom, sitting him on what would’ve been Grace’s side of the bed, and lied down next to him whilst he dialed the doctors office.

A nice voice on the end of the line answered. “This is Dr. Y/L/N with the Birmingham Women and Children’s Clinic. How may I help you?” She asked.

“Hello Dr. Y/L/N, this is Thomas Shelby. I’m calling about my son. He has a cough, ragged breathing, and a fever that seems really high. Are you able to make house calls?” He asked, watching as Charlie played with a horse-shaped toy.

“Yes of course Mr. Shelby. I’ll just need an address and I’ll be over in about 30 minutes.” She said.

Tommy told her the address and any other details she needed to know. And before he could hang up, her voice sounded again, calming Tommy as the sun rose through the window.

“Don’t worry Mr. Shelby, I’ll have him better in no time. But just for a precaution, get a cold rag and put it on the back of his neck to help with the fever.”

“Alright, I will. Thank you.” He said before hanging up.

“Well Charlie, looks like we’re going to have a visitor alright? She’s going to take good care of ya.” He said as Charlie now laid against his chest, whining quietly. Tommy gently put him on the pillow and went to get a cloth, running it under cold water, and putting it over the back of his neck.

“There ya go, my sweet boy.” He said kissing the top of his head. He whined a bit as the cold cloth touched his neck, protesting the feeling as Tommy watched sleepily over him. It was around 5:30 in the morning when they finally heard the doorbell and a swift knock on the door.

Tommy picked up Charlie, and went to the door allowing the nurse to step in.

“Thank you for coming so early in the morning. I’m surprised anyone’s working this early.” He said, his voice still a bit groggy.

“Of course! I was working the graveyard shift so I’m always the doctor on call at this time. Now this must be Charlie...Hello sweetheart. My name is Y/N.” You said, smiling and in a much more lively tone than Tommy.

“Charlie do you want to show Y/N to your room?” He asked. Charlie looked up at you and smiled slightly, his rosy cheeks alarming you a bit.

“Lead the way you two, I’ll be right behind ya.” You said, nervously walking down the hall and up the stairs, reveling at the grandiosity of the house. You knew the Shelby’s after caring for many of the families wives and children, but this was the first time you’ve encountered the infamous Thomas Shelby. His current state was much less alarming than you thought it was going to be. You expected a ruthless leader answering the door, with a razor-blade cap on and wielding a gun, but instead he was a blue-eyed slim faced man, with a loose fitting shirt and pants on, and an adorable baby boy living seemingly alone in this huge mansion. 

“Here we are, where would you like me to put him?” He asked you. You looked around the blue-toned room, your eyes catching a portrait of a blonde haired, beautiful woman in a frame near his crib that you assumed to be his late mother, as it was similar to the one in the stairwell.

“His crib is fine.” You said, sitting your work bag down and putting your gloves on and putting your stethoscope around your neck. 

“If you don’t mind I’d like to stay, he doesn’t like when I leave...” He said, taking a seat in the rocking chair.

“That’s completely fine, Mr. Shelby. I’ll try to make this quick so you don’t fall asleep.” You said smirking. He smiled and watched on as you did your work.

“Alright I’m going to take this and listen to your heart okay? Big breaths for me, like this.” You said, breathing in a big breath and blowing out.

He did his best to copy you and sat surprisingly still as the stethoscope gently made its way around his chest and back.

“His heart sounds great, but his breathing is a bit rough. His lungs sound like they’re inflamed a little bit.” You said looking over at Tommy who was eyeing you intently, causing you to blush a bit as he nodded for you to continue. 

“Okay sweetie let’s take your temperature shall we?” You say before reaching in your bag to get a thermometer.

“Can you say “Ahh” for me Charlie?” You asked, smiling at him. He opened his mouth just enough for you to examine his throat before raising his arm up to place the thermometer under his arm.

“We’re going to play a game okay? You’re going to hold that under your arm and I’m going to hold this under mine until it’s ready alright?” You said, grabbing a pencil from your bag and placing it under yours, getting him to copy you. You were able to get a reading not too long after, taking the pencil from under your arm and clapping as you removed the thermometer from under his.

“Now I know you won’t like me for a moment, but I’m going to shine this at your eyes for a second okay? Look at me.” You said guiding his eyes with your finger as you examined them.

“Great job sweetheart!” You said leaning down to him and giving him a high-five. You turned to Tommy who was smiling at your all’s little interaction. 

“It’s 101.5...that’s a bit high especially for a toddler, and so from the look and sound of it, I’m going to say he has acute bronchitis.” 

His face turned a bit serious as he took in what you said. Your smile faded slightly as you took in his change of emotion.

“Will you be able to prescribe his anything?” He asked, concern lacing his face and his voice.

“Of course Mr. Shelby. I’m going to prescribe him some cough syrup that will help with the cough and everything, and I recommend cold compresses every few hours to help with the fever or a cold bath if you find it increasing.” You said writing out a note for the prescription.

“Alright, thank you again. I hate to keep you away from your work, but I’d probably be panicking right now if it weren't for you Dr. Y/L/N.”

“It’s no problem at all, especially when my patients are as well behaved as little Charlie.” You said, smiling at him and then at Tommy. You felt his gaze on you as you gathered your things and as you made your way to the door.

“Oh and Mr. Shelby, you can call me Y/N. I’d be happy to help you again if need be.”

“Thank you Y/N. And you can call me Tommy. I know it may not be the right time, but I’d love to pay repay ya in some way, not just with money...” He said lingering by the door to Charlie’s room. You stopped and looked at him, taking a moment to think about what he said.

“What kind of repayment were you thinking Mr. Sh-I mean Tommy?” You asked, catching yourself calling him that out of habit. 

“I was thinking maybe going for a drink sometime, when you’re free of course.” He said. You blushed and took a long look at him. 

“I’d love that actually...I’ll ring you this Friday when I’m free.” You said.

“Then it’s a date.” He said smiling slightly before turning back to Charlie. 

You walked out, hearing the birds singing as you drove off and back to the remaining hours of your long shift, excitedly looking forward to the end of the week.

Later that morning, Thomas called the shop, telling Polly all that went on and decided to take the day off to better help monitor him, but before she could say anything else he spoke.

“Oh and cancel anything for Friday of this week.” He said.

“Why...? Thomas is it serious?” She asked concerned.

“No Poll. The lovely doctor prescribed him some medicine. I’m...actually going to be meeting with her that day...”

“My god you’ve asked out the doctor?” She asked.

“I did. But I know she’s not like the others Poll, you’ll see.” He said before hanging up. 

After Grace’s death, he didn’t know when he’d want to take up dating again, but dating takes risks, and risks were something that Thomas Shelby could never shy away from.

Tag List:

@msbzowy, @nofckingfighting, @aranoburns, @sighonahurricane, @ugly-crying-over-bucky-barnes, @gaytommyshelby, @wowjeena, @fifty-shadesof-tommyshelby, @inglourious-imagines, @thebloodyshelbys, @tsolomons, @blinder-secrets, @reveparade, @shelby-fanatic, @ta-ka-shi-ma, @cai-neki, @peakyxtommy

[wayward-riana]

The Lost Silhouette | Part Two | Thomas Shelby

Summary: After Grace’s death, Tommy had closed his heart off but when he marries the new female detective of the Crime Investigation Department of Birmingham only for protection from the law, his cold exterior starts melting.

Thomas Shelby x reader

Warnings: Mentions of sadness. Brief cursing.

A/N: 'Gypsy' is a song by Fleetwood Mac. Let's pretend that it existed back in the 1920s. I just thought that it'd go so well with this chapter. I really hope you all genuinely enjoy this. I had a lot of fun writing this.

___________________________________________

Most nights Tommy likes to have Charlie beside him at night, while he's sleeping. Other nights, Charlie sleeps in his cot that is situated in his father's grand bedroom. Although, Y/N insisted that Charlie sleeps on her bed tonight, beside her. Tommy allowed it.

Now that he lays in his cold and lonely bed with a cigarette in his hand, he feels restless. Restless knowing that his boy isn't in the room with him. So, he throws on a loose shirt and marches towards Y/N's room.

As Tommy stands outside her door, he can hear a cry flowing out of the room. He slowly creaks the door open and relief washes through him when he sees Charlie.

Charlie clings onto Y/N's body as he buries his face in the crook of her neck. Tommy sees Y/N is sat on the bed, while she holds Charlie very gently against her and soothingly rubs his back.

So I'm back to the velvet underground

Back to the floor that I love

To a room with some lace and paper flowers

Back to the gypsy that I was

To the gypsy that I was

Tommy is taken aback by the sweet melody that flows out of Y/N's mouth. He is surprised by how sweet her voice is. But her voice also has an endearing rasp to it. Only voice that ever sounded good to him was Grace's. He never expected to appreciate anyone's voice after her's, let alone Y/N's.

The words that Y/N sung had stitched themselves like a thread, into his heart. The words take him back to Small Heath. They remind him of a much simpler time. They remind him of the happiness that he knew of, before the war. They remind him of the man he was. A man who knew how to laugh. A man who knew how to love life.

And it all comes down to you

Well, you know that it does, well

Lightning strikes maybe once, maybe twice

Oh and it lights up the night

And you see your gypsy

You see your gypsy

Did Thomas Shelby hope for a life without pain? Absolutely. But hope is not in his body, anymore. Hope is something he has thrown away, a long time ago. Pain has made him who he is and he doesn't know if it's for the best or not. Before all this, he had a God. A God that he said his prayers to but he lost that as well.

He lost everything. Fucking everything.

To the gypsy that remains

Her face says freedom, with a little fear

I have no fear

I have only love

And if I was a child

And the child was enough

Enough for me to love

Enough to love

If he gives Y/N a chance, will she end up dying too? If he loves her, will she be taken away from him too?

Doesn't matter. He won't let anyone in, anymore. He made that mistake once. Not again. Besides, he's content with what he has. Charlie.

Charlie is all he needs.

She is dancing away from you now

She was just a wish

She was just a wish

And her memory is all that is left for you now

You see your gypsy, oh

You see your gypsy

The tears stream down Tommy's face like raindrops on a cold-blurry window. He doesn't even bother wiping them away. He puts the cigarette up to his lips and inhales the toxic smoke, that brings him peace.

And it all comes down to you

Lightning strikes

Maybe once, maybe twice

I still see your bright eyes, bright eyes

Y/N wipes her own eyes as she finishes the song. She looks down and sees Charlie sleeping, oh, so peacefully. She smiles and presses a gentle kiss on his head, before she slowly puts him down on the bed. She covers him with a blanket and delicately runs her finger across his cheek while staring down at him, lovingly.

Tommy watches Y/N's every single movement. He realises that she truly loves his son and genuinely cares for him. It makes him feel happ - no - satisfied with his choice to bring her in.

The overwhelming smell of smoke hits Y/N. A smell that isn't found in her room, ever. She snaps her head and looks at the doorway to see Tommy leaning against the doorframe. With a cigarette in his hand, of course.

Instead of calling out to him to ask if he needed anything, she climbs out of bed, not wanting to wake up the sleeping child. She slowly approaches Tommy and holds her dressing gown tightly against her body.

"Tommy, did you need someth -"

She stops mid-sentence when she notices his tear-stained face. She also notices tears in the corners of his eyes.

Y/N instinctively reaches out to wipe a tear droplet that slowly rolls down his temple. He watches her intently, as she does. His skin is soft beneath her gentle fingertips. She quickly realises what she's doing and regains her composure.

"What's wrong, Tommy?" Genuine concern is etched all over her face as she questions him. "Is everything all right?"

"The song...that you sang. Where is it from?" He croaks out.

Embarrassment dawns upon her as she realises he's heard her sing. She bites her lip and stares at the ground.

This is so unlike the two of them.

Tommy is always very emotionless and composed, but here he stands, broken and tearful.

Y/N is always incredibly confident and quick-witted, but now she found herself unable to speak properly and is a mess under Tommy's stare.

"I wrote it." She admits, slowly looking up from the ground. She gazes into his beautifully broken blue eyes. He raises his eyebrows in surprise, clearly impressed with her skill that he never knew she had.

"It's good." He compliments.

She blushes and nods at him, not being able to trust her voice to thank him.

Tommy sighs and stands up straight.

"You must be tired. I'll let you rest." Tommy states.

"I'm really not tired. You can come in and...talk,"

Y/N stares up at him, expectantly.

"If you'd like." She adds.

He barely shrugs, "All right."

___________________________________________

"What is the meaning behind the song?" Tommy asks as he lights up another cigarette. "I mean, what does it mean to you?"

"In London, where I grew up, there was an area where only the gypsies lived. No one went there, and by no one I mean, the elites. But my parents always did. Even though, they were part of the upper class, they didn't care about status. They always interacted with them, and most of my best friends were gypsies. I practically grew up with them. So I refer to myself as 'the gypsy that I was' because it makes me feel more grounded. It reminds me of the people that I've known and the people that I grew up with. Also, to remind myself that the people I love are gone, but I am not. I'm still here.

My best friend, James, died in the war. He was a gypsy, too. I'd known him my entire life. We were supposed to get married after he returned but that never happened due to the war. My father also died. I didn't know how to cope with the losses. So I put my heart and soul in this song. My grief is buried beneath these words.

The velvet underground stands for the velvet carpet in my father's bedroom. The lace and paper flowers were what James's family's house was decorated with. So yeah, little things like that makes the song so significant to me. That's what it means to me, I guess. Love and grief."

Y/N immediately shuts up as she realises she has rambled on for so long.

"Were you ever able to let go of that grief?"

She didn't expect Tommy to ask such emotional questions. She opens her mouth but is unable to string words together. She sighs and thinks about her answer before finally she speaks.

"Yes, I was. It took me some time to come to terms with it, but I did. I had to remind myself that none of it was under my control. Death isn't something anyone of us can control. You never know when one of us will be gone. Tomorrow is never promised. We're living on a borrowed time. I was unable to live my life. I was numb. I felt like everything was over. But then I realised you shouldn't be upset over things that you cannot control. Then, I eventually accepted it and moved on with my life. It's not like I've let go of Papa and James. I've let go of the grief. Their memories are still with me. They always will be."

Tommy judged Y/N very quickly, when he first met her. He would've never guessed that she has gone through so much.

"I know losing your wife must've been really difficult for you and I also know that you blame yourself for it but as I said before, you shouldn't be upset over things that you cannot control."

Her doe E/C eyes stare into Tommy's blue ones. The strong emotions in her eyes makes him uneasy. Uneasy because he can't afford to feel again.

The pair had talked all night long and before they knew it, the sun was up. Y/N reminded herself, it was nothing just a tough night for Tommy and he needed someone to talk to. That's it.

However, deep down inside her, she hoped that this was a start of something. Maybe 'Shelby' won't just be a legal name, anymore. Maybe, it'll be the name she shares with someone she loves and who loves her back. Maybe, she'll finally feel like she is Mrs. Y/N Shelby. Maybe, she'll finally feel like she's Thomas Shelby's other half. Maybe, he'll finally realise that she is more than just a spare.

___________________________________________

I hope you all enjoyed part two. Part three will be up real soon so stay tuned. I really hope you all enjoyed this. R, xxx.

______________________________________

@sxperncturalimpala67 @lovemissyhoneybee

[ugly-crying-over-bucky-barnes]

Burned Part 27

Summary:  Alfie Solomons is in need of a secretary. Tommy Shelby mentions a young woman in need of employment. From there the two step into a dangerous dance together.

Part 27: Tommy Shelby delivers a present, Alfie writes a letter. 

          “Can you believe it, Teddy? Aye? An MP.”

           Teddy was on the floor, pushing a wooden train around the rug. He was a fairly quiet little boy and could entertain himself longer than most toddlers. The soothing atmosphere of the office kept him at ease. His father constantly smudging the ink on the paper, mumbling incoherent curses, and Cyril watching from his bed in the corner.

           The three-year-old giggled, oblivious to what Alfie was actually talking about. He beamed up at his father. “Daddy, look at my train.”

           Alfie smiled. “Yeah, that’s your train. Where’s it off to then?” He grunted as he heaved himself up out of the leather desk chair. He held the paper in his hand as he painstakingly lowered himself down to sit on the rug beside his sun.

           “I dunno.” Teddy lifted his shoulders dramatically.

           “How ‘bout…” He winced as he tried to adjust how he was sitting to alleviate the pain in his hip. “It’s off to visit Cyril.”

           The little boy giggled and pushed the train over to Cyril who was watching Teddy from his well-worn bed. His chin rested on his paws, his sad eyes half-closed. Finally, Teddy gently tapped the engine against the mastiff’s nose. Cyril hardly even flinched. Instead, his tail started to thump happily against the floor.

           “Choo choo!” Teddy crowed happily.

           “Alright, bring it back then, back to dad.” Alfie leaned back on his elbow, scanning the rest of the article about Tommy Shelby becoming an MP. A landslide they called it. Clearly the popular choice for the labor party. “Crazy gypsy.” He muttered under his breath. Politics was the absolute last thing Alfie would ever want to be involved in. Sure it brought a lot of power and weight in the game, but all the regulations and rules. Not to mention how much time it probably took up. No thank you. Alfie was quite content with spending time with his family.

           Of course, Tommy Shelby wasn’t dying. Or he wasn’t dying as fast as Alfie was. Course the Blinder could be shot down any day, but he highly doubted it after everything he pulled with the Italians.

           Teddy scampered back over to Alfie, running the train over his legs as if they were hills. Alfie chuckled. “Bumpy track, aye?”

           “Bumpy.” His son mimicked.

           “Well, at least I’m not a fucking MP like Tommy Shelby.” He sighed.

           Teddy sat back, pressing the soles of his feet together. His blue eyes looked up at his father. “Fucking MP.”

           Alfie’s eyes widened and he realized he’d really done it that time. He should’ve realized the day would come, Teddy echoed him day in and day out like a parrot. Louise was stern with him, saying he needed to cut back on the swearing while in Teddy’s presence or he’d pick it up sooner or later. Apparently, it had come sooner.

           “Fucking MP,” Teddy said again.

           “Hey, hey, can’t say that.” He was not the disciplinary of the household. It nearly broke his heart to scold the little boy or tell him no. Ollie often teased him for being such a pushover. Leave it to a three-foot toddler to make him go soft.

           Teddy tilted his head to the side in confusion. “Why?” Since he was so curious, he always asked that. He was never content with just accepting things the way they were. He wanted to know where the sun went at night. He wanted to know why horses and dogs walked on four legs. He wanted to know how cars worked. Often times, Alfie was at a loss under his intensive questioning. Sometimes he had to make things up on the spot just to satisfy his inquiries. He prided himself on being pretty clever, but when Teddy asked where babies came from; he had to stammer his way through a bullshit excuse about storks.

           “’Cause it’s a naughty word.” Alfie tried to explain, hoping that was enough of an explanation.

           Of course, it wasn’t. “Why?”

           “I dunno, just is.”

           Teddy frowned, clearly displeased by his lack of an answer. “Why?” He pressed again.

           Alfie couldn’t help but chuckle and tousle his hair. “Because someone a long time ago said so. Can’t say it, at least not around mum.”

           He smiled, a little mischief glinting in his eyes. He loved keeping little secrets from his mother. Secrets just he and Alfie knew. Like how Cyril would always get a few table scraps when Louise wasn’t looking. Or how Alfie let him stay up just a little bit later to read another book together. What they didn’t know was Louise was well aware of their secrets. She just simply chose to look the other way. She adored seeing the bond between father and son.

           “Okay.” Teddy put a finger to his lips. “Shhh.”

           “Yeah, shhh.” Alfie smiled and checked his watch. Louise was due back from her ride at any moment. He stood up, shaking out the pins and needles in his legs. “There she is.” As if on cue, he looked out the window and saw his wife riding Paris down the gravel drive. The two foxhounds trotting after the mare’s feet. Louise usually rode a loop around the property, where Alfie thought she’d be safest, from the stables to the front gate. Despite the remote location, Alfie still insisted she brought the dogs with her who were trained to attack humans as well as animals and that she carried her handgun. Old habits died hard and a gangster, even if retired, couldn’t help but always look over his shoulder.

           Alfie stretched his stiff back. “How’s about you and me go out to greet mum? Get some air?”

           Teddy smiled and lifted himself up. He followed his father to the front hall grabbing at his pant leg.

           “Gotta get your coat on, mate, don’t want ya to catch your death.” He retrieved Teddy’s baby blue coat and knelt down to get it on. “Right, looking handsome now, just like dad, yeah?”

           Teddy giggled. “Handsome.” He tugged at the collar of his coat.

           “That’s right,” Alfie grunted as he stood up. “You hold dad’s hand now, don’t want you running off, aye?” He had to stoop a little to let his son take his hand. “Good lad.”

           The two stepped out as Louise was dismounting. Baby and Ollie came rushing over to see them. Teddy squealed as the hounds licked his cheeks affectionately.

           “Right, you two. Leave him be.” Alfie shooed them off to the direction of the stables.

           “There are my boys.” Louise smiled warmly and walked over with Paris plodding beside her. “Finally come outside?”

           “Well, had to come out and see you.” He smiled and rubbed the mare’s cheek. “How are you, lass?” He’d warmed up to the idea of horses a little more although he still wouldn’t dream of getting on one.

           Paris nickered softly and lowered her head to sniff at Teddy. He giggled and reached up to gently feel the horse’s whiskers. She exhaled, the warm air blowing through his dark hair. “Par.” He cooed and touched his cheek to her muzzle. The little boy was fearless when it came to animals. It got to the point where Alfie had to be extra careful he didn’t go running off toward any of the wild animals that happened to pass through the lawn. Teddy was positive the fox that lived at the outskirts of the forest would love a good cuddle. Alfie was positive that he would not.

           “Let me set her out in the pasture and then we can have tea on the terrace,” Louise suggested. “How’s that sound, my loves?” She bent down to kiss her son’s forehead, using her sleeve to wipe dog slobber off his cherub cheeks.

           “Sounds good to me.” Her husband nodded. “Let’s see the goats, eh?” He squeezed Teddy’s hand gently and followed Louise and Paris back to the stables.

           While she untacked and brushed the mare, Alfie brought Teddy over to the pasture fence where a few goats and a mule kept Paris company. The goats bleated as they approached. They usually expected treats when Teddy came over.

           “How’s ‘bout you give them those dandelions?” Alfie pointed to the thatch of grass beside the pasture. “Get the weeds, two birds with one stone, yeah?”

           Teddy crouched down and yanked up the yellow dandelions. He walked over to the goats, who already had their heads poking out between the fence posts, their lips smacking.

           “Careful of their teeth,” Alfie said as Teddy held the dandelions out and let the goats greedily snatch them away. The little boy clapped his hands together with a beaming smile, bits of dirt sticking to his palms. Then he lifted his hand to stick his fingers in his mouth, as toddlers often do. “Ah, ah, no, nasty innit?” His father stopped him. “Come on, let’s get you washed up. Mum will be done soon.”

           As they walked back up the gravel drive to the house, Alfie heard the distinct sound of a car driving up. He wasn’t expecting anyone for a visit so it was highly unusual. He instinctually tensed and scooped up Teddy. His large frame holding him securely, the man always ready to take a barrage of bullets for his son if need be. He peered a bit and saw Tommy Shelby driving up with Johnny Dogs and Charlie in the car with him.

           Alfie relaxed a bit but kept Teddy in his arms just in case he ran off towards the car. He saw a trailer was hooked up to the car, which was just as strange as the Blinder coming to visit unannounced. Since he was retired, there wasn’t much need for interaction with Tommy. But they crossed paths every so often. Some charity events he and Louise attended, they chatted with him. Every so often, Alfie would catch news about Tommy’s business. Legitimate or not. But since the men had left on good terms, and Alfie had stayed true to his word and remained retired, there wasn’t any more bad blood.

           He waited as the car pulled around the circle drive and stopped near the path that led to the stables.

           Tommy got out, Johnny helping Charlie out. “Alfie.” The Shelby walked over to him.

           “Unexpected surprise, nearly put a fucking bullet in your windshield, Tommy,” Alfie said tersely, already forgetting he had to quit swearing in front of Teddy. But Tommy brought out that side of him more often than not. “You could’ve called me beforehand.”

           “Been out all day, didn’t have time.” Tommy smiled when he saw Alfie in his now natural state of being a father. “Hello, Teddy. Look at how big you are. Look like your mum, you do.”

           Alfie always felt a sense of pride when people acknowledged what a precious little thing Teddy was. “Got me eyes though, don't he?”

           “Yeah, can see that.” Tommy nodded in agreement. “Charlie, that’s Teddy, just a bit younger than you.

           His son smiled shyly and remained close to Tommy’s leg. “Hi.” He said softly.

           “Is Louise ‘round? Got a present for the both of you.” Tommy said as a sharp neigh coming from the trailer.

           Louise walked from the stables, tugging off her gloves. “Tommy, what a surprise.” She smiled. “Hi, Charlie. Look at you, handsome boy.” She cooed and remarked at how big the boy had gotten.

           “Mr. Shelby has a present for us,” Alfie told her. “Keeping us in suspense, I s’pose.”

           “Johnny, will you go get him?” Tommy asked and pulled a cigarette out.

           “Don’t smoke around my fucking kid, mate.” The Jewish man grunted firmly.

           Louise put her hands on her hips and gave her husband a look. “Don’t swear around him.”

           Teddy pressed a hand to Alfie’s mouth. “Naughty word!” He scolded.

           Alfie sighed. “Sorry, sorry.”

           Tommy chuckled and tucked the silver container away. “S’your home, I’ll respect that.” Of course, the Blinder found the interaction amusing. Used to be you couldn’t count the number of times Alfie swore in one minute on both hands. Now it appeared domestic bliss was really taking a toll on his vocabulary.

           Alfie grunted and let Teddy down. “Go show Charlie the goats, Ted.” He shooed the boys off but kept an eye on them.

           Johnny came around the trailer leading a handsome, well-built, dark bay stallion.

           “Oh, Tommy, he’s gorgeous.” Louise gasped softly. She approached the horse, stroking his shoulder and inspecting his legs and hooves. He was well-muscled and looked strong.

           “Retired off the track, name’s Birmingham’s Jewel, we call him Burr,” Tommy explained. “Still young though, a thoroughbred mixed with Arabian. I’d like to see if he can sire a few foals, see if any of them could make money on the track.”

           “You want Paris to foal?” Louise asked glancing over at the pastures. Her beloved mare grazing the lush grass, her stunning black coat shining in the sun.

           Alfie frowned and stepped in. He didn’t know much about horses, but he knew enough about wagers and racing to catch on to what Tommy was suggesting. “Hold on, I ain’t letting you use her mare to make you money, mate. Not making ties with you Blinders.”

           Tommy stuck his hands in his pockets. “It’s all perfectly legal, Alfie. No need to fix races anymore.” He explained steadily. “All for sport now. Thinking we could half and half on the horse if it makes it anywhere. May Carleton can train; I’ll pay you for that as well as any other expenses.”

           “Yeah?” Alfie weighed the offer. He knew how much Louise loved horses and figured it might be a joy for her to have foals around. But he still considered it a risk. Anything with Tommy usually was. “Right, what if Lou wants to keep the foal? She can decide whether it races or not, very fond of her horses she is. I think that’s fair if she decides.”

           “It’s okay.” She touched her husband’s arm. “I trust they’ll treat them well on the track. When they’re retired you can bring them here. We have plenty of stall space.”

           “Fair enough.” Tommy nodded. “Meanwhile, you can have Burr to ride. He’s still sound, got hot blood though. Doesn’t spook often but can be strong on the bit.”

           “Hang on, you passing off your devil horse to my wife, Shelby?” Alfie didn’t like the idea of his wife riding a horse with Birmingham blood in him.

           “Alfie…”

           He shook his head calmly. “He’s not dangerous, I’m sure she could handle him.”

           Alfie muttered under his breath something about gypsy horses. But decided it wasn’t worth getting into an argument with the Blinder.

           “I’m sure he’s lovely, I can handle it.” Louise cut off her husband. “I think that’s a wonderful idea, Tommy. I’d love Paris to have a beau of her own. Don’t you think, dear?” She gave an extra flutter of her eyelashes to make her husband cave in.

           “That alright with you, Mr. Solomons?” Tommy asked.

           Alfie scratched at his beard. It was painfully difficult to say no to Louise just like it was saying no to his son. Of course, she knew she could get him with those doe-eyes. “S’her decision. But if that beast gives her trouble, you’re taking him back. Won’t have that mess here.”          

           “I can do that.” The two sealed the deal with a spit and shake.

           “Go on and let her in the enclosed paddock, Johnny. I’ll keep them separate until they’ve become acquainted.” Louise suggested and walked over to the fence. “Paris is used to the goats and donkey. But May will sometimes come out for a ride with me. She gets along with the mare that she has.”

           Johnny led Burr over to the paddock and slipped off his halter, letting him loose. Burr took a few cantering strides out into the grass, scoping out his space. His hooves beating strong against the firm ground. He stopped at the fence and took a few laps around the enclosure, his nostrils flaring and ears perked forward in curiosity. His long legs stretched out as he trotted, showing off a bit. His head kept tossing about and he decided to trot over to the fence closest to where Paris was grazing.

           Tommy, Alfie, and Louise watched as Paris lifted her head when the stallion whinnied to her. She dutifully plodded over to him, taking her sweet time through the ankle-high grass. She decided to take a detour, going over to the goats that were eating grass from Charlie and Teddy. The mare nudged the goats aside and stuck her head over the fence to sniff at Teddy, affectionately running her muzzle over his hair.

           Burr looked expectantly and called out again as if to hurry her along. Paris lifted her head and began walking back over. The stallion nickered softly as she came to the fence separating them. He stretched out his neck to try and sniff her. But Paris paused and let out a low snort. Her ears pinned back and she turned away from him, walking away without a second glance.

           Burr whinnied loudly to try and bring her back but she ignored him.

           Alfie was positively chuffed at Paris’s indifference and chuckled. “She’s a heartbreaker, innit she? ‘Fraid it’ll be a while ‘fore you get your foal, Tommy.”

           “Oh, he’s so sweet. I’m sure she’ll warm up to him soon.” Louise nudged her husband. But she did look amused at the interaction.

           Tommy smiled and shook his head. “Well, I guess we’ll see if he wins her over anytime soon.”

           The stallion tried to coax the mare back, pacing up and down the fence, strutting his stuff, his tail lifted to accent his Arabian traits. Without so much as a glance, Paris continued grazing beside the donkey. Burr snorted in frustration but eventually gave up and lowered his head to nibble on the grass.

           “Alfie told me about the elections,” Louise mentioned. “What a responsibility.”

           Tommy nodded and watched Charlie wander over to Johnny who was chatting with the stable hand near the paddock where Burr was held. “Certainly won’t have a lot of free time but it’ll be worth it.”

           “Tommy Shelby, OBE, and MP.” Alfie shook his head. “Knew you were crazy, mate, but not this crazy.”

           “Politics can be used to help people, Alfie,” Tommy replied.

           “Mphf.” He simply grunted. “Whatever you say.”

           Teddy came over and tugged on Alfie’s pant leg. “Daddy, potty.” He requested urgently.

           “Alright, let’s go inside. You two better make sure that Paris don’t kick off.” He chuckled and began to walk Teddy back inside.

           “How’s he doing?” Tommy asked. The Blinder wouldn’t ask Alfie about his condition to his face. Most likely, it would incur wrath or simply a ‘fuck off’. Especially since the man had attempted to die much sooner than God intended.

           Louise sighed. “He hasn’t worsened as much as the doctors expected.” She chewed on her lip and watched Paris out in the pasture. “But he hasn’t gotten any better either. I just thought that…he’s lived longer than they expected. So maybe they got it wrong, or it’s not as serious as they initially said. But he’s still in so much pain. Won’t take medication to help with the aches or his lungs.” She shook her head. “Doesn’t even want to see the doctor anymore. Says he’s just ready to handle it how he handles it.”

           “Well, that’s certainly the man I knew.” Tommy agreed. “He seems happy though, happiest I’ve ever seen him.”

           She smiled and nodded. “I can be thankful for that. I think sometimes I push too hard to look into treatments. I forget that he just wants to spend time with Teddy and me.” She swallowed back tears that were starting to form in her throat. “I just want to give him the most time he can.”

           Tommy felt sympathetic for the woman. Losing Grace was difficult but he wondered if it was worse or better to know that your other half was dying. It couldn’t be easy knowing they were in so much pain. At least Grace went fairly quickly and relatively painlessly as far as he knew. But Louise was watching her husband suffer every day and there wasn’t much she could do about it. Tommy knew what it was like to stand there helplessly. You could call out for help all you wanted but there was no response.

           “Anything I can do?” Tommy asked even though he knew there wasn’t anything he could do within his power.

           “Afraid there isn’t much any of us can do.” She whispered. “As long as he’s happy and he’s living the way he wants to. He knows how he wants to die. I think he’ll know when it’s time, time to go to Margate.” She took a deep breath. Every day she tried to put it out of her mind that she was going to lose Alfie. But it was becoming more and more impossible to turn a blind eye. One night he was nearly in tears because of how much pain he was in. She often stayed up late some nights, just watching him breathe, hoping, praying he’ll keep breathing.

           “Mummy!” Teddy came running back outside across the gravel path.

           Louise wiped away the sadness on her face and bent down to pick up her son. “Hi, love.” She kissed his cheek.

           Alfie lagged behind, not able to keep up with Teddy’s pace anymore. He relied more on his cane those days and had a harder time breathing. But nevertheless, he persisted.

           “Mummy, new horse!” Teddy pointed at Burr.

           “Yes, isn’t he handsome? Let’s go say hello.” She offered and walked over to Johnny and the groom.

           “Be careful,” Alfie called after her. He didn’t want the unfamiliar horse chomping off a few of Teddy’s little fingers.

           “You’re living the dream, aye, Alfie?” Tommy asked and held out his cigarette pack as if asking for permission.

           “Yeah, yeah.” He nodded and let the Brummie light up a cigarette. “S’pose I am. Cancer isn’t ideal.” The Jewish man shrugged as if he didn’t give a care about the diagnosis. An obvious coping tactic that could be attributed to the man’s past behavior of being indifferent towards death. But there was no mistaking the obvious heartache that Alfie felt for leaving his beloved family behind.

           “If there’s any way I can help…” Tommy offered.

           Alfie narrowed his eyes in suspicion. “Mate, if you make a move on me wife after I’m dead, I’ll fucking rise from my grave and strangle you. I can fucking promise you that.” He jabbed a finger at the man who was notorious for being a womanizer.

           Tommy just chuckled and shook his head. “That’s not what I meant, Alfie, you know that.” He replied.

           He grumbled. “I guess I sometimes worry about people taking advantage of her.” He admitted with a disgruntled sigh. “She’s smart, but I’ve still got enemies out there who probably love to think that she’s an easy target.”

           “Well, she’s still under the Peaky Blinders’ protection.” He informed him. “We don’t forget our debts. She paid us for protection a long time ago but it still stands.”

           Alfie was a little surprised that the man remembered the payment all those years later. In a way, he was grateful that the Blinders rarely forgot a deal. Perhaps they could offer him another measure of peace that she would be protected. “No messing about with her? ‘Cause I’ve got people in Camden who’ll still watch over her too. Family who would be mighty unhappy if they found out you were taking money from her.”

           “I’m a man of my word, Alfie.” Tommy glanced over at him with a firm nod. “We’ll keep an eye on her, by order of the Peaky Blinders.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

     “Dad, what’re you writing?”

           It was summer in Margate. Teddy, now five-years-old, had wandered into the little study. Louise and Alfie had to make a few adjustments to the cottage, adding an extension to make a little bit more room for the three of them and three dogs. Now Teddy had his own room and Alfie had a cozy office. Not that he had much paperwork to do anymore. But he liked overseeing finances and documents at a desk; it made him feel more like himself.

           Alfie glanced up over his half-moon glasses. A small smile formed on his face. Teddy must’ve gotten bored with baking with Louise. “Writing a letter.” He answered and beckoned his son over.

           The young boy rounded the desk and crawled up onto Alfie’s lap. “Why? Can’t you just call ‘em on the telephone?” He asked.

           “You youngins and your technology.” He chuckled and shook his head. “I’m writing a letter to you, mate.”

           “To me?” A funny look crossed Teddy’s face as he looked up at his father. “Why? I’m right here.”

           Alfie put the paper aside and found the envelope he’d already pulled out. “See that?” He pointed to the words written on the front of the cream envelope. “Says it’s addressed to Theodore Tovi Solomons.” He read out, the tip of his finger tracing under each word so Teddy could follow along. “To be read on his eighteenth birthday.”

           Teddy frowned. “Eighteen? But that’s a long ways away. That’s ‘lmost how old you are!” He exclaimed.

           “Well, I’m flattered.” Alfie smiled and tousled his hair. “But you’ll hafta wait. Can’t read it ‘til then. See that, September sixteenth, 1944. That’s the day you turn eighteen, innit?”

           “That’s like a million years away.” He groaned. “Can’t I just read it now?”

           “Trust me, time goes a lot faster than you think. You’ll be eighteen ‘fore you know it and you’ll be able to read it. F’ya read it now you’ll just be bored.”

           Teddy sighed and rested back against Alfie. “Kay.” He gave in. “What’re we gonna do on my birthday?”

           Alfie wished more than anything he could be there. But his cancer was ready to take him, he could feel it. Breathing was becoming more and more agonizing with each passing day. He was in constant pain and there was little to relieve it. Some parts of his skin looked like it was being eaten away.

           “Whatever you want, Ted.”

           “It’ll be fun. Birthdays are always fun. Mum makes me chocolate cake.” Teddy rambled on, fiddling with the pen Alfie had left on the desk.

           “Yeah, she does.”

           “You get me presents. Maybe when I’m eighteen you can get me a horse of my own.” He beamed up at his father.

           Alfie smiled and nodded. He was positive Louise would continue to spoil Teddy after he was gone. So giving him a horse wasn’t too far fetched. “Sure.”

~~~~~~~~~~~

           Although there wasn’t much Alfie could do to alleviate his pain, he did enjoy the salt air. It might’ve just been psychological, but whenever he was out on the beach, he felt just a tad bit better. He could breathe easier and the sound of the waves could pull his thoughts away from the ache in his bones.

           When they were at Margate, if Louise couldn’t find Alfie in the house, she was guaranteed to find him outside. Down the dunes, past the pier, standing by the shore. Cyril by his side.

           After Teddy turned five, Cyril lost most of the energy he had left. Alfie said dogs his size rarely lived past eight-years-old so it was a miracle he was going on eleven.

           One morning, Louise woke Alfie up in a panic. Cyril was lying on the end of their bed and it didn’t look like he was breathing. Alfie simply nudged the mastiff with his foot and he awoke, tail wagging happily.

           Louise wasn’t ready to lose either of them. But she did everything she could to contain her worry and grief. The last thing she wanted to do was upset Teddy or make Alfie feel guilty. She learned to simply take each day at a time. And when that failed, she started to go by every hour, then every minute. All she had was that minute. Alfie and Cyril were fine and alive. She had them forever in that moment. The minutes and hours and days ahead were unknown. All she had was a minute. A second even.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

           Late one night, Louise woke to find the bed next to her empty. It wasn’t uncommon. Alfie often got up to walk or simply sit on the beach. Sometimes the pain was too much to stay in bed. Apparently, he’d left Cyril behind because the mastiff could be heard snoring from Teddy’s room.

           Louise slipped on a thin sweater over her nightgown and walked outside. She traveled down the well-worn path through the dunes, passing by the spot where he’d proposed to her.

           Alfie was standing by the shore. The moon was nearly full and there wasn’t a cloud in the night sky. The beach was illuminated enough to see his figure. The moon reflected off the calm waves that lapped at the shore. The sand still held some of its warmth from soaking up the summer sun all day.

           “Alfie…” Louise called a few feet away from him so she wouldn’t startle him. She knew he would be deep in his thoughts.

           The man turned and smiled when he saw his wife. “Cyril’s snoring wake you up?” He reached out a hand to her.

           “I think so.” She giggled and took his hand. “Or maybe I could sense you’d left.”

           “Maybe.” He’d discarded his coat onto the sand, unnecessary in the warm air. His sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, displaying some of the worst of his cancer. He used his cane to lower himself to the sand. Louise followed, curling up beside him as he stretched his legs out. He let out a long sigh, inhaling the salty air.

           “Have you finished your letter to Teddy yet?” She asked quietly. The two had talked about his legacy, as hard as it was. But they agreed that Alfie would write a letter to Teddy and she’d give it to him when the boy turned eighteen. That way, Alfie could explain a few things in his own words.

           “Just about.” Her husband nodded. “It’s hard, I’m worried I’ll leave something out.” He admitted and wrapped an arm around her.

           “You’ll make sure to add everything you need to. You’ve already spent at least a month on it.” She reminded him.

           “Just want it to be perfect.”

           Louise hummed in agreement and cuddled closer into his side. She looked up at the clear stars up above them. “Maybe we become stars when we’ve passed.” She whispered.

           “Stars?” Alfie tilted his head to see where she was looking.

           She shrugged. “Maybe. So that we can always look down on the people who miss us.”

           Alfie didn’t expect much after death. His religion was more focused on what you did during your lifetime rather than what happened after it. But he didn’t want to tell Louise that he wouldn’t be there for her. Because whether it was just a thought, he wanted to always be in the back of her mind. Whether it was selfish or not, Alfie didn’t like the feeling of leaving her behind. So he didn’t plan on it.

           “That’d be nice.” He agreed quietly and kissed her cheek. “I’d like that.”

           “Yeah, me too.” She looked away from the constellations and pressed into the crook of his arm.

           “Or maybe you go back to a time you’ve really enjoyed. Reliving that moment over and over again.” Alfie mused. “What’d that be? What’s your favorite moment?”

           His wife was quiet for a moment, sifting through all the lovely memories she had with him. “The moment you held Teddy for the first time. The love I saw in your eyes. It was perfect. I was so worried when I found out I was pregnant; I was worried you would doubt yourself as a father. But I saw it in your eyes that you didn’t doubt yourself. You knew how to be a father. It was just in your blood.”

           Alfie had to walk himself through a few deep breaths. His chest had tightened so much that he was afraid he would lose his cool if he spoke. Finally, he composed himself, focusing on Louise’s steady breathing. “Y-yeah…I’d pick that moment too.”

           “Good.” She sniffled and dabbed her eyes. “I’ll see you there then.” Her whisper barely rose above the sound of the gentle waves.

           “See you there, love.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~

//So next part will be the epilogue. I have a few one shots revolving around the Burned universe so to speak that I can post afterward. 

Permanent Tag: @papa-geralt-of-cirilla​ @giftofdreams​ @biba3434​

Tag list: @vehement-care​ @kimmietea​ @eleventhdoctorsangel​ @fire-treasure-iii​

Masterpost

PB Masterlist

[alj4890]

Love Prompt

(Thomas x Amanda) with the prompt, "I'm pregnant." As requested by @krsnlove

(Thomas Hunt x oc*Amanda) taken from the storyline And Then I Met You.

A/N I just spent three days immersed in Austin's RTX. This experience inspired this requested prompt for this pair.

@alleksa16 @penguininapinktuxedo @blackcoffee85 @stopforamoment @hopefulmoonobject   @krsnlove @littleblossom357   @annekebbphotography @gibbles82  @cora-nova @bella-ca  @hopelessromantic1352 . @sunflowergirl05 @desiree-0816 @greywitchyshots @lilyofchoices @emceesynonymroll @pixieferry

Masterlist

Autograph

"Why do I need to be here?" Thomas stared out at the San Diego skyline.

"Because you directed a superhero movie." Amanda explained for the thirteenth time. She walked up behind him and wrapped her arms around his waist. "This is what happens when you deliver a film that critics are claiming brings a nuance to the genre that hasn't been seen before."

"A comic con." Thomas shuddered. "This is meant for directors like Tommy I use explosions to cover up a lack of plot Phelps."

Amanda snorted behind him and pressed her forehead against his shoulder. "Thomas, you shouldn't say that!"

"I beg to differ." He turned around and hugged her closer to him. His lips captured hers in a long kiss. "What is my schedule for this sacrificial ceremony?"

She shook with silent laughter as she searched for Holly's event planner. "Here it is." She scanned it and grimaced. "Tomorrow morning is meeting the press for interviews, followed by a meet and greet with fans, and finishing up with a panel in Hall H."

Thomas leaned against the door frame and glared at the paper in her hand. "How long with each?" His eyes widened when she bit her lip. "Amanda? How long do I spend doing this?"

"It starts at five in the morning with the press and ends at seven in the evening." She jumped when he yanked the paper out of her hands and balled it up. He threw it in the trash while walking into the bedroom.

"Thomas!" She fished it out, smoothing it on the table. "It won't be that bad."

"One of the many things I love about you is your ability to try and make horrendous activities seem easy to endure. In this instance though, listening to people nitpick my choices with the storyline will not go well." He groaned as he laid down across the bed on his stomach. His sound turned to one of pleasure when he felt his wife's hands begin to massage his shoulders and back.

He closed his eyes and enjoyed the quiet peacefulness she seemed to bring him. His tense muscles began to ease under her tender ministrations. After four years of marriage, he was still in amazement that she always knew what he needed when frustrated. Sometimes it was her humor. Perhaps a burst of her righteous anger on his behalf. Other times it was a kiss. At this particular moment, he would never have known how much he needed her silent support and touch.

She sighed softly and scooted back against the pillows. Her lips curved when he followed her and repositioned beside her. He wrapped an arm around her and released a deep breath. "I suppose it won't be the worst thing I have ever had to endure."

Amanda curled up against his side and pressed a soft kiss to his jaw. "I believe you will be pleasantly surprised tomorrow."

__________________

"What do you mean you don't know where my wife is?" Thomas towered over the younger man that had been put in charge of his security at the convention. Anger was building at an alarming pace along with his panic. "Are you telling me that you lost her in this madhouse?"

"Mr. Hunt, sir, your wife was overheard talking on the phone about meeting someone. As we walked through the convention with her, we realized she had slipped away when our attention was drawn to an altercation between two guests in a heated argument. If she hadn't wandered off, we--" he paled as Thomas stepped closer.

"Are you actually blaming my wife for your incompetence?!"

"No!" He squeaked. The security guard cleared his throat while stepping back.

Thomas knew deep down that this was part of his wife's personality quirks. Whenever she was in a new place, she had a tendency to silently be drawn toward something that captured her interest. He usually followed her or was dragged behind if they were holding hands. There were a few times he had lost her himself. He should have ended the interviews earlier so he could walk with her here. The entire place bombarded the senses at every turn.

He tried to call her once more. He could hear the volume of the crowd out there and knew that it had to be the reason why she wasn't answering. If anything happened to her...

"Hello?" She said after the third ring.

"Amanda! Where are you?" He yelled.

"I can barely hear you!" She yelled back.

"WHERE ARE YOU?" He roared, causing everyone in the room to cringe and move back.

"I am in line! I thought I could get an autograph and all beforehand. I--" Thomas heard a man close by speaking. "Really? This is your tenth year? How exciting! I wish I had--"

"Amanda, find a security officer this minute! He or she will bring you here." Thomas demanded.

"I will just as soon as I get his autograph! This latest production has surprised me and I have always wanted to meet him. I love his work so much. I will come directly there once I--"

"Someone is going to recognize you." Thomas reminded her. The thought of her being caught in a crowd of frenzied fans made his worry escalate. "I think--"

"OH! I think it's starting! I will be there soon. Love you!" She ended the call.

Thomas yelled out her name to stop her and nearly threw his phone against the wall. He rounded on the security team. "Go to the last place you remember seeing her. Somewhere around there, she is in line to meet some director, screenwriter, or actor. Bring her here now. Do you understand?"

"Yes, of course." The guard fumbled with his walkie talkie, dropped it twice, and quickly scurried out of the room.

Thomas tried to fight it, but the spurt of jealousy he felt when Amanda excitedly told him she had to get an autograph caused his stomach to churn. Who was the man who's work she held in such admiration? Why didn't she simply have me introduce her to him? Does she think this man's films are better than mine? What if she...found him attractive or fascinating?

He squared his shoulders while his frown darkened. He stepped out to a thunderous applause and screams. Thomas nodded his head briefly in thanks before sitting behind a table. He glanced up at a middle aged man, dressed in a ridiculous mix of heroes costume, that was the beginning of the line to meet him. He impatiently waved him over with a flick of his wrist.

He listened with barely a word said as the man gushed over Thomas choosing his favorite hero to film. In the midst of the fan continuing to point out what aspects he hoped to see in today's sneak peek, Thomas scanned the crowd for his wife. Who the devil was she standing in line for?

Thomas autographed the fan's poster then posed for a picture. He thanked him for his support and motioned for the next person to approach. His frown remained as he met fan after fan. After close to an hour of this, he stopped looking at those in line and continued to search the crowd pausing to watch him interact.

"Mr. Hunt?"

His eyes snapped to Amanda's when he heard her voice. He slowly smiled when he saw her standing before him. Her cheeks turned a bright shade of pink as she held out her hand. "I know everyone says this, but I am your biggest fan."

Those that watched him smile even more realized who she was. He heard the murmurs and even heard a man curse and say that he couldn't believe he had given tips to Hunt's wife on how she should act when meeting the director.

"Would you mind autographing a picture from your latest production?" Amanda asked, smiling when he pressed a kiss to her hand.

Thomas noticed the piece of cardstock she held and lifted his hand to take it. She pulled it out of reach while her smile held a hint of humor. "I didn't know your most recent project was a collaboration."

Thomas lifted an eyebrow. "Collaboration? I didn't collaborate with anyone on this last film."

Amanda placed the cardstock down on the table and slid it over to him, "I believe this proves otherwise."

He looked down and dropped the Sharpie pen. His eyes touched on the ultrasound photograph labeled, Baby Hunt, and the due date listed as a little over six months from now. His fingers carefully brushed over the image before he raised his eyes back up.

Amanda's smile was filled with joy while her hands clasped over her barely noticeable belly. "I'm pregnant."

Thomas knocked his chair over in his haste to move around the table. The crowd began to snap pictures, unsure what was going on. He pulled her into his arms and passionately kissed her, completely ignoring the flashes and people yelling. She teared up when he gently touched her stomach, whispered in her ear how much he loved her, and kissed her once more.

Everyone tried to overhear what was being said. Some at the con claimed he said he hoped it was a little girl just like her. Others swore she wanted a son exactly like him. Finally, those standing closest to the front said that all the couple did was marvel at the fact that within half a year they would meet their most important collaboration to date.

[alisamaefawn394]

So it’s like 6.30 am here: I’ve been knowingly awake since 5.45, yet I don’t think I really slept even before that. My temp and pain are all over the place lol and I have a full day at school (8.45-3.45, yes that is a 7 hour solid day.)

BESIDES THE POINT.

In this past 45 minutes I’ve come up with the most DELECTABLE scenario and I’d like to share it.

It starts on a Thursday. On Thursdays I have music p1+2, free p3+4, PSHE p5, then lunch, then English (Shakespeare) 6-9. Yes we have nine lessons.

And it begins with me forgetting my lunch on my mums kitchen counter which my boyfriend noticed when he let himself in later on in the day to sit with the dogs. Instantly, he picks my lunch up and packs me a few goodies before heading out to his car. During this I’m in a triggering PSHE lesson about topics I’d rather not think about so early in the morning.

When he arrives he charms the desk lady to let him in over the intercom and convinces her to accompany him from central office to my building. Someone in my block hears the low hum of his car and the engine shutting off once he parks, and instantly identifies it as a Jaguar, and proceeds to mouth this word to the entire class (all of sixth form, 30ish people) while in a very tense discussion.

Minutes later, the class is nearly over, and a 6ft+ figure clad in a ‘casual suit’ is looming outside the doorway, his frame but not his face visible to almost all of the class from the glass walls. I however sit in the far corner. Then, when chairs start moving and students begin standing, he gently knocks on the door and opens it with a rubber glove covered hand.

“So sorry to intrude,” says his suave voice to the two teachers in charge, the sound slightly muffled by his mask, “I’m just here to drop off a lunch. Do you mind?”

The staff shake their heads, and everyone in the class just kind of stares in awe as he carries a pink lunch bag around the room. He’s taller than the rest of the boys by a long shot, and dressed so impeccably, that’s not to mention the facial hair and the auburn man bun resting at the nape of his neck. He’s definitely older, they can tell, and they momentarily forget that they’re all meant to be signing out in order to head for lunch in the village. He looks... familiar to many of them.

Their eyes follow his, scanning the room, until he spots his destination. The small girl, cramped in her chair behind a single desk and between two towering bookshelves, book open before her and crutches by her side. He gains a bounce in his step at the sight of her red waves, nearly fastened with a ribbon, and he bounds over to her, alerting her to his presence by a hand on her shoulder. Or should I say, mine.

“Hiya princess,” he says. “Tom!” I almost shout in return, all decorum having flown out the window as I fling myself upon him, beaming from ear to ear despite the tear tracks on my pale cheeks. He curls his arms around me and holds my figure off the ground as he plucks the chair from behind my desk and seats himself down.

He brushes my hair from my temple and places a soft kiss to the centre of my forehead. “You feel warm sweetheart. Temperature okay?” I hum in reply. “Blood pressure? Oxygen? Heart?” I chuckle. “I’m fine, Tom.” But he won’t relent, even when he traces his finger up my spine. “All of your tablets? Heart? Pain? St-“ “yes tommy.”

With that final reassurance, he quietens down enough to ask why I’m crying, why I look so forlorn, but before I can respond, a nervous figure of only 5ft7 stands bear us, rocking on the balls of his feet. “Sorry, we just wanted to know if Lis is ok.” He says, and I scoff lightly. “No, you wanted to know why my boyfriend is here and who he is, isn’t that right Sam? You were just elected interrogator.”

He doesn’t even deny it, but he does move a palm to cover mine, startling my face up and alerting Tom to my mild discomfort. “So you’re Sam, are you?” To says contemptuously. “It was a tough lesson for her is all. I checked the schedule on the cooker, s*icide lesson just. It’s a triggering topic. She went through that for a long time and didn’t particularly need a reminder.” Sam almost looks upset by those words, and holds his arms open , almost as if inviting me for a hug. I look to Tom for reassurance, and move into Sams arms for just a moment before I detach myself. “Thanks Sam.” I say. “Would you mind getting me a cup of tea, babe?” And Tom stands up too.

A few minutes later and he’s back at my table with a mug of hot milky tea, disgracefully taken with sugar and without earl grey, but Tom steals a few sips nonetheless. We can hear people talking, but no one has the balls to talk to us for a while, until a girl with no social etiquette comes bouncing up and asks, “are you famous or something? You look proper familiar. Where’ve I seen your face before? Sure as hell isnt from her, you’d never know she exists for all she speaks.” Tom stifles a chuckle and pecks my lips before answering. “My name is Tom Hiddleston.”

A few murmurs erupt around the class, but nothing too major. It’s like they can place the name and the face but can’t put it together. “My perfect boyfriend is a top class actor,” I reply, something snide in my tone. “He’s performed brilliantly in movies such as I Saw the Light, Crimson Peak, High Rise and more; he won an award for his incredible acting in The Night Manager, a short series; and he has played Loki in the Marvel Cinematic Universe and Thor franchise. Not to mention that he was Coriolanus in the National Theatre Live production which he should’ve gotten an accolade for, and he’s also a unicef ambassador. Need I go on? He can sing, play guitar, piano, trumpet; he can juggle while holding beer between his feet, he can play rugby, and he can recite Shakespeare at the drop of a hat. Never once has he been in trouble for saying something offensive, and he’s the kindest soul I’ve ever known.”

A chorus of awwhs sound from odd places around the room once I finally die down, only to receive a sudden pash from Tom. I unravel the tie from his hair and let my fingers run through the curls, tugging gently at the roots as a sign of gratitude. A few people speak to us after that, but none of the interactions of signing autographs and taking pictures and such (good natured tommyyyy), are as memorable as when a man with even less social graces than the girl before.

“So are you two shagging or not?!” He shouts from the kitchenette. Tom and I share a glance before I concede and let him take this one. He gently tugs at the collar of his shirt and moves his neck to the side. The bruising purple marks, the faint scratches... they’re answer enough and people begin to ooooooh. He sits and runs his hands up my arms and my spine and my hair while I finish my lunch, and Tom then carries me and my bag and my crutches over to the other side of the stairs for my afternoon class.

“Miss, this is Tom Hiddleston, my boyfriend.” I say. She seems instantly enamoured and leaps into questioning him about Shakespeare and his favourite performances and his favourite books. He answers all of her questions before leaping into his favourite Shakespearean monologue, absolutely dazzling my teacher. “Would you care to stay in our lesson this afternoon? I’m sure you have some wonderful insight.” She offers, and he graciously accepts. “I studied the tempest at university, and I do quite enjoy the play. I’d love to share my thoughts.”

And that’s where I got up to really got at the end of the day he walks me to his car and we drive home lol. It took me almost an hour to write this plz appreciate it.

[naturallytom]

Wasn’t Expecting That (Tom Holland x reader)

a/n: please listen to Wasn’t Expecting That by Jamie Lawson while you read!! lyrics are in bold + italics, also this was slightly inspired by the fault in our stars !! 

warnings: fluff, angst (a lot of it), mentions of cancer

please leave feedback!!!

masterlist & tom holland taglist info in my bio!!

_______________________________________________________________________

It was only a smile but my heart it went wild

To everyone else, the way you and Tom met wasn’t special. You were looking at the ice cream flavors in the grocery store, eyes concentrated on the containers of the delicious frozen treat as your brain tried to think through which one to buy. Tom saw you when he got to the ice cream aisle and was immediately captivated by your beauty.

“What’s your favorite?” He asked, before he could think of what he was doing.

You looked at him, your eyes meeting his soft brown eyes as you smiled softly. “My favorite’s strawberry cheesecake. But they don’t have that so I’m looking for another flavor I like. Problem is I like all of them.” You chuckled, smiling at him again. Tom felt his heart flutter in his chest at the simple gesture.

“I like mint chocolate chip moose tracks. Can’t go wrong with that one.” He replied.

“Well then,” You giggled. “Mint chocolate chip moose tracks it is.”

Just a delicate kiss, anyone could’ve missed

Tom first kissed you after your first date. He took you to dinner and a movie and while you tried to pay for the movie, Tom wasn’t having it. He insisted it was his treat. Even after dinner Tom knew he loved you. It wasn’t something he could explain- he just knew it. He couldn’t help but steal glances of you while he drove you home after the movie. The moonlight outlined your face just right and Tom could’ve sworn you were an angel. Pulling up to your apartment building, Tom parked the car before opening the car door for you and walking you up to your apartment like a true gentleman.

“Well, uh, this is me.” You said softly, rocking gently on your feet. “I had a really nice time tonight.”

Tom nodded and smiled. “Me too.”

Neither of you said anything, but moved towards each other slowly until Tom finally broke the silence when you were chest to chest. “Can I kiss you?” He asked, nearly whispering. You simply nodded in response as his hand came up and cupped your cheek and pressed his lips to yours.

It was a soft, delicate kiss. His lips were soft against yours and you could both feel the sparks that ignited from it. When you pulled away, Tom’s forehead rested on yours as he laughed breathlessly and mumbled “that was nice.”

You couldn’t help but smile and nod in agreement.

Did I misread the sign?

Your hand slipped into mine

For your third date with Tom, he took you to the zoo. You mentioned you liked animals and your favorite to see are penguins so Tom bought tickets to the zoo, eager to see your eyes light up when you saw the penguins. Prior to the date, you had told Tom about your battle with thyroid cancer when you were nineteen and explained that it could come back at any time, afraid you’d scare him away. Tom listened to your every word and when you finished, he couldn’t stop telling you how strong you were and how he’d be with you through it all, no matter what. And that’s when you knew you loved Tom. When you arrived at the zoo, you couldn’t stop smiling at all the animals, while Tom couldn’t help smiling at you. He was completely enthralled by your smile and the way a small sparkle appeared in your eyes. When you finally reached the penguins, you instinctively grabbed Tom’s hand, lacing your fingers together.

“Look at them, Tom!” You said excitedly, turning to him, your hand still laced with his. “Aren’t they the cutest things you’ve ever seen?” You cooed while watching them waddle around.

Tom could only nod and smile softly. What he wanted to say was that yeah, the penguins were cute. But they were nothing compared to you. It was then you noticed you were holding Tom’s hand, a small chuckle escaping your lips.

“Sorry.” You said softly, moving to untangle your fingers from his. This time he grabbed your hand softly, keeping your hand in his before you could remove it.

“I like it.”

You spent the night in my bed

You spent the night in Tom’s bed after you had been dating for four months. He invited you over for a movie night and though he wouldn’t admit it yet, he was overjoyed when you accepted his not-so-formal invitation.

Though the movie was packed with action and comedy, you were falling asleep on Tom, your head on his chest, legs draped over his lap. Tom’s heart beat faster when he looked down and saw you peacefully curled up against him. He turned off the tv, picking you up bridal style, pausing when you stirred.

“Tommy?” You mumbled, half asleep.

“‘S me, love. You wanna spend the night?” He whispered, smiling when you nodded sleepily.

He brought you upstairs, where he helped you change into one of his shirts before you curled up in his bed. Climbing in next to you, he couldn’t help but stare at you sleeping peacefully, your chest rising and falling evenly.

Before he fell asleep, all Tom could think about was how in love with you he was and how lucky he was to call you his.

It was only a word, it was almost mis-heard

I wasn’t expecting that

Tom was at the doctor’s with you when you got the news. Not the good kind of news that most couples hope for, it was the gut wrenching, soul sucking news that the cancer was back. Neither you or Tom were expecting it. The two of you had just gotten engaged and were trying to plan a wedding when it all happened.

“I’ll give you two a minute before we talk treatment.” The Doctor said softly, leaving the room and gently closing the door.

“If,” you sniffled, still clutching Tom’s hand. “If you want to go, you can. I won’t blame you if you do.”

There was nothing that could’ve prepared Tom for the news. He felt numb as the doctor spoke, but your words tugged on his heart. Broke him out of his trance.

“No.” Tom shook his head. “‘M not leaving. I promised you I’d be here for you every step of the way. I still mean that.”

You said nothing but gripped his hand tighter as the doctor reentered the room, a silent sign of the strong bond you shared.

A month turned into a year

I wasn’t expecting that

Tom didn’t break his promise. You were both relieved when the doctor estimated a month of treatment, but weren’t surprised when it turned into a year of treatment. Tom was by your side the whole time, always supporting you in any way you needed.

And when your year of treatment was over and the doctor announced you were cancer free (again), Tom was the first person to remind you of how strong you were and tell you how much he loves you.

Isn’t it strange how a life can be changed

In the flicker of the sweetest smile

We were married in spring

You know I wouldn’t change a thing

Without that innocent kiss, what a life I’d have missed

If you’d not took a chance on a little romance

When I wasn’t expecting that

You and Tom got married in the spring. It was a small wedding, with only your families and a few friends in attendance but you and Tom loved it. He couldn’t help his tears when you walked down the aisle in the beautiful white dress you had picked out with the help of your mom. There wasn’t a single dry eye in the chapel when Tom said his vows.

Your first dance with Tom was magical. It felt as if no one else existed but you two. As the two of you danced, Tom couldn’t help but think about how his life changed for the better. If you hadn’t given him a chance, what a life he would’ve missed.

Time doesn’t take long, three kids up and gone

As time went on, you and Tom had three beautiful girls. Amelia, Delilah, and Harper. Tom adored all of them, he would do anything for them (and you). When they were babies, Tom would stay in their rooms and rock them back to sleep when they woke. If they needed to be fed, he’d bring them to you who adored them just as much and Tom would watch in awe as the loves of his life interacted.

When they were toddlers, Tom would play princesses and dress up with them, having tea parties whenever they asked.

When they went off to Uni, he cried with you three separate times, each time one of them left. He couldn’t be prouder of the young women they became.

When the nurses they came, said it’s come back again

I wasn’t expecting that

Then you closed your eyes, you took my heart by surprise

When the nurses told you and Tom the cancer was back again, but stronger than before, neither of you were expecting it.

“What about treatment?” He asked, only pausing when you grabbed his arm gently.

“Tommy, it’s okay. I’ve lived my life with you. I don’t need it.” You said softly, Tom’s heart breaking.

“Sweetheart-” He started but you shook your head.

“It’s okay.”

Tom still didn’t break his promise. He was by your side the whole time. So were your daughters. But one night when they weren’t home, it got particularly bad and Tom drove you to the hospital. You stayed through the night and through the next day.

It was the next night when you were laying in the bed, Tom right by your side, holding your hand. He was rubbing his thumb over your knuckles, something that always comforted you.

“Tommy? I think it’s time for me to go now.” You mumbled, smiling softly at Tom, who held your hand tighter, beginning to ask what was wrong.

“I love you and our girls forever and always, Tommy.”

Then you closed your eyes, and Tom felt his heart clench inside his chest while tears streamed down his face as he watched your chest rise and fall for the last time.

I wasn’t expecting that

_______________________________________________________________________

tom holland oneshot tags + mutuals: @boredombesson @spidermansmj14 @calum-hoodwinked-me @karlitabi-rrito @tomhaz @i-ship-it-okay @holland-osterfieldx @you-makemethisway @xxtomxo@shadowyartcutebiscuit @spideyyypeter @xxxxdelenaxxxx @tomzfrog @sparklyhomeworklovecloud @sunshinehollandd @spiderboytotherescue @upsidedownparker @parkerpuffwrites @hollandroos @loverholland @lavenderholland @spideypeach

[angrylizardjacket]

Run to Paradise {Nikki Sixx} Part 9

9. mutually assured destruction is a girl’s best friend

Chapter Summary: songs are written, loopholes are found, it’s the start of something.... yeah i don’t know what adjective to add. is it something good? bad? indescribable? only time will tell.

Warnings: drinking, posting at 6am so quality might be an issue lmao

Notes: a highkey vince/lola chapter but also soft nikki/lola moment

ragtag bunch of misfits: @starlalove @marvelismylifffe @lilytalebi@inthebackofmycarlaytheirbodies @dramatique-moi @missqueeniewrites@calspixie @aryssav @catsoo12 @sweetshutter @silvertonguedserpent@shamelessobsessions @lavenderbones22 @keepcalm-and-beyou@scarecrowmax

{masterlist}

Nikki's already got a setlist's worth of songs half-written before he'd even met Tommy, so in the weeks between the band's formation and their first proper gig, it's not hard to put their sound together. Lola moves in and out of the band's space with a practiced ease, becoming a fixture at rehearsals, that is, when she's not at work, or at the gym, or a gig. Sometimes if she's working the Whiskey, they'll join her after practice, or in a break if they're bored enough.

She knows their songs well enough to hum along in the shower, knows enough about music to form an opinion about the bands she hears at the Whiskey.

Lola's really come to enjoy the nights when the band visits her while she's roadie-ing for another band, if only because she revels in the vaguely jealous, side-eye glances girls in the bar will give her, and because she'll get her job done while the band talks amongst themselves around her; it's not technically gossip, but she quietly enjoys being privy to little band secrets.

And she enjoys spilling those secrets the moment the information becomes pertinent.

"Fuck, they're awful;" Tommy's lip is curled in disgust, watching in horror as the stiff and bright synthpop band end one middling song and start up another, barely interacting with the crowd, or even acknowledging them, focused more on their instruments than their stage presence. The music was nothing to write home about it, but the crowd seemed to like them well enough.

"Yeah but they're making bank," Lola's not even watching the band, instead gazing idly at the crowd with mild interest. Her gin and tonic is stronger than it probably should be, but that's just a perk of being friends with the bartender, "they're in talks with a label from Seattle, ain't that right?" She grins at the bartender behind the bar, who's drying a glass and looking a little uncomfortable being brought into the conversation. He confirms as much, though he doesn't know about the Seattle bit is true, says there's even a scout for the label there tonight. That gets their attention.

Bit by bit, the band, along with other folks who frequented bars around town, come to recognise Lola as a woman in the know around The Strip. She knows who's playing where, where after parties are being held, and who's going, but most importantly, at least to Nikki, who even now has his sights set high, who's getting deals.

He always grumbles after she tells him, because there's been such a push for synthpop on the radio and he's sick of it. Complains that it's not real music. Asks her why she even works with them when he knows she hates their music as much as he does. Fixing him with her sweetest, most harmless smile, Lola shrugs, and puts on her best valley girl accent, because she knows how much it annoys him.

"Well when I'm with the band I drink for free," she fake giggles a little, "and I'm also the only one in this house paying rent, so, like... I'll take whatever fucking jobs I can get." She fixes him with a pointed stare, smile turning a little poisonous. Nikki rolls his eyes. Honestly, Lola doesn't actually begrudge him that much; the place isn't that expensive, it's barely habitable as it is, and work keeps her busy; her day job sees her as the manager of the shitty hotel she'd started working at all those years ago, and moonlighting as a roadie has more benefits than detractors, easily.

But she likes the nights during the week where she doesn't have to work, doesn't have to go anywhere or do anything, but the band has practice. From the moment she met him, she knew Nikki was the sort of person to have good taste in music, and thankfully that extended to the stuff he wrote.

He seems to always be muttering lyrics to himself, hunched over his notebook, plucking out bass lines in the middle of the afternoon, always working on the next song. He doesn't talk about what they're about or who they're for, not a lot. Some are pretty self evident; Live Wire and Take Me To The Top weren't exactly too hard to decipher, but then she hears him tentatively singing the lyrics to Starry Eyes, to a melody he's trying out, and it hits her square in the chest.

"What's that one about?" She asks, sprawling out on the sofa after getting home from the gym, picking up the notebook from the table that he was frowning at as he picked out a riff on his bass.

"I - it just came to me," he sounds focused, a little far away, but he won't meet her eyes. She puts the book back down, doesn't push the subject and mostly believes him, and lays back to take a nap, listening as Nikki figures out how he wants the song to go.

But when she closes her eyes, she sees the stars out the window that night that felt like years ago, when it's really only months, she sees the way smoke hung in the air as Nikki passed her a the cigarette he'd lit a few moments before.

"Where do you even wanna go, Lo?" He asks, an arm around her, taking the cigarette back from her as she considers his words, holds the smoke in her lungs, frowning.

"Whaddya mean?" She asks in a rush, breathing the smoke out and shifting against him, moving so she could rest her chin on his chest, resting her arm over his stomach.

"Like- what do you want to do? You don't wanna be a roadie forever, you gonna join a band? Be a dancer or something? Get a shitty little desk job? Do you think about the future or any shit like that?" When he looks at her, sure his eyes are a little glassy, they're both sort of out of it, but no more than any other night, but he's tapping out a rhythm on her hip and Lola presses a smile against his chest at the question, dropping her gaze.

"'course I do," she half laughs, "dude, I'm having the time of my life, shit can only go up from here; just gotta pick the right band at the right time and I could go anywhere I wanted." And then she's looking at him again, something soft in her eyes that Nikki doesn't want to think about too hard. She gives him a squeeze, a cheeky smile. "That's why I picked you."

"London's fucking falling apart," Nikki dismisses, leaning his head back against the headboard, grimacing before taking another drag.

"I didn't say I picked London," Lola rests her cheek against his chest, following the statement with a yawn, "I mean, at least until something better comes along," and it's mostly a joke, but Nikki can't help but scoff.

"Yeah right," he mutters, "nice to know you're just using me for a free ride when I make it big." His heart's not in it, and she can hear the amused smile in his voice despite his words.

"I'm also using you for your body," shooting for nonchalant in order to really sell the bit, there's only a beat before they both start laughing, loud and bright and unselfconcious. Lola's giggling through half-hearted apologies, propping herself up on her elbow, but Nikki likes having her close, likes her skin against his, and pulls her on top of him, kissing her to quiet her unneeded apologies. When he pulls back, she's still laughing a little, and he presses the cigarette gently to her lips, holding it as she breathes in. It's surprisingly intimate, and he stubs out the cigarette on the ash tray by the bedside table.

Tipping her head back, she watches the smoke hang in the air, threading her fingers through Nikki's hair as he presses his lips to her collar, and the memory fades to darkness.

And when she wakes up later that night, she wonders if he thinks of that night, or if he can remember it.

Then she wonders when Tommy arrived, since he's sitting in the armchair holding a steady conversation with Nikki, who's in the kitchen, the both of them drinking beers.

"How long have you been here?" She grumbles, rubbing sleep from her eyes to partially hide her grin at the way Tommy jumped in the chair.

"Fuck, dude, when did you wake up?" He asks, eyes wide. Lola yawns.

"Now; seriously, why didn't anyone wake me?"

"I dunno man, you live here I figured you can sleep wherever you want and it's not really any of my business." Tommy shrugs helplessly, and takes a swig from his beer. Lola lets out a low hum and looks around the room, propping herself up a little, frowning. The notebook on the table is sitting open to a set of chords for Too Fast For Love. Huh.

After she starts making conversation with Tommy, she doesn't even remember what she'd been thinking about before her nap. He never outright says he wrote anything for her, but she has her suspicions. Though half the time Nikki's insistent that he didn't write about anything or anyone specific, but Lola still smirks like she doesn't believe him, press a quick kiss to the corner of his mouth as he frowns and doubles down on his argument despite the fact she hadn't said anything.

She likes getting him riled up, flustered, though she still hasn't been able to tell him that she's slept with Vince. It's not that she's worried about what he'll do; he can't kick her out since he doesn't pay rent, and it's probably not the catalyst for a fight that would ruin their entire friendship. No, her fear lies in the fact that he's so damn excited about this band and she doesn't want to potentially ruin it before it even gets out of the starting gate.

Except that it's also sort of none of his business?

He's not the dictator of who she can and cannot sleep with, and technically - technically, she reasons - she only promised not to sleep with Tommy. Which she hasn't. Actually, she's started forming fast friendships with the band; Tommy's the easiest, much to her surprise he's bringing out mannerisms in her that she thought had died when she left home the first time; mentions of life behind a white picket fence that have her nostalgic and a little bit aching in equal measures. It's easy to be open around him, it's easy to be honest, and to smile like nothing bad had ever happened to her.

Where Nikki thinks life is a war, to be actively fought, Tommy seems to think life is a rollercoaster, and that he's just along for the ride. Part of Lola wishes she could be that blase about the world.

But then there's Mick, world weary and also just plain weary; he's known 'girls like Lola' and seems to want very little to do with her when he first meets her.

"The fuck does that mean?" She's already defensive, sitting on the arm of the sofa beside Tommy where they'd been figuring out the name of the band. Mick takes a long sip of his beer, casting his glowering gaze around the others. Nikki's the only one who's really paying attention, smirking and amused, while Tommy's drawing something in his notebook and Vince seems to have zoned out.

"You know exactly what I mean, girlie." Is all he says. Nikki stifles a laugh.

"Oh piss off, geezer," she snaps, and storms off to the bedroom, throwing - "and fuck you too, Sixx," over her shoulder as Nikki can't hold in his laughter anymore.

Mick asks if she's always going to be around, and Nikki's smile edges from amused to fond as he says that she's going to be their roadie. Mick sighs very deeply. He does, however, form a grudging respect for her once the band stops by early to see her at work, for everyone's benefit but Nikki, who'd seen her at work many times. She's ruthlessly efficient and follows directions well; Mick has much less of a problem with her after that, and at Nikki and Tommy's behest, Lola's kind to him in return.

And, well, things with Vince start innocent. Sort of. He's so easy to befriend, loud and bright, such a natural performer, entertainer, a social butterfly. But it's like he's trying to get her to like him, gives her offhanded compliments, something about her earrings, or her jacket, maybe her boots, perfectly fine and innocent, but Lola knows. It's there in his grin after she does a goofy pose to show off whatever he's drawn attention to, there in his pleased little smile after she pays him a compliment of her own. They trade teasing remarks until the teasing becomes flirting, well, flirting with an edge; Lola doesn't seem to do things without an edge much anymore.

And that suited Vince just fine.

It only takes a week and a half for him to realise that there was nothing formal, nothing relationship-esque between Lola and Nikki, and she's a damn breath of fresh air compared to Beth. And so when the band goes to scout out the competition, the bands that Lola roadies for, he knows a few things are guaranteed. Mick claims to have no interest and finds the darkest corner to haunt, Nikki is almost always glowering at the band, seeing as how they're almost universally not his style, and therefore terrible in his eyes, and Tommy's watching the girls in the mosh, and drinks until he's pretty sure he won't feel it if he gets slapped, before ditching the band for whatever pretty girl will agree to fuck him in the bathroom. Vince would probably join him on any other night, or be with Beth, but he likes this game of whatever it is they're playing.

He's still not quite sure of the nature of her relationship with Nikki, judging by how discrete she keeps things, but it seems to be something she's good at, and honestly, Vince won't complain. So he's got his hand on her thigh, and she's playing devil's advocate for the band that Nikki's glaring at, though the bassist is too revolted to argue back, so it falls on Vince to try and defend his bandmate's stance. Nikki joins Mick after about fifteen minutes, only staying to humour Tommy.

"You only hate them because you know you'd look better than they do in the same clothes," Lola's smile is all teeth, sharp and amused, and Vince scoffs, though he's smiling at the slight compliment, his thumb rubbing soft circles against her thigh; it's the third time they've come by, and Vince is pretty sure it's just an excuse to drink at somewhere that's not the grubby little flat. Usually she'd be in jeans, but it was close to the middle of summer, and she'd forgone the jeans for a skirt, and it felt like there was something different about tonight even beyond that.

"No shit, I absolutely would, but there's no way I'd be caught dead in that-"

"That's rich," she turns sharply on the barstool to face him, and he was close enough that now he's standing practically between her legs, "given some of the costumes you lot have come up with," and there's no malice, nothing but a teasing edge to her words, leaning one elbow on the bartop.

"We look like rockstars, like real rockstars;" he's got both his hands on her thighs now, and Lola looks like she's biting back a laugh at his rather genuine indignance, "they look like Jackson Pollock's neon nightmare." He watches her for a reaction, but the reference passes right over her head, brow furrowing a little in confusion, "they look awful." He clarified, leaning in a little, "and babe, they sound it too." His voice is low, obviously feeling bold as his nails graze higher until he's brushing at the hem of her skirt and that's enough to bring Lola back into the conversation, in a manner of speaking.

Looking over her shoulder, Lola's eyes are quick to spot Nikki heading from the bar, tailed by a weary looking Mick, and when she looks back, her smile is dangerous.

"We've probably got about ten minutes before he stops ranting to Mick and realises he's left you and Tommy behind, and that he can't finish practice without you," she says, with the air of someone who's been through this far too often. Vince's brow creases, and he leans back a little.

"Are you guys together?" He asks, not necessarily antsy, just curious. Lola rolls her eyes, and already that's answer enough.

"We fuck but there's nothing romantic about it," she snorts, though she avoids his gaze; it's the first time she's admitted it out loud to anyone, really, "I just promised not to fuck around with his band again." She chuckles, before her eyes meet his, like she's challenging him, like she's daring him to call out her history. Instead, he steps into her space, smirking, a hand holding her jaw.

"He's gonna have to deal with it, because the band's gonna be great; and this?" He's surprisingly gentle when he kisses her, tasting like beer and smelling like hairspray and she's got her arms around his neck, pulling him closer, "this isn't any of his damn business."

Ten minutes isn't a lot of time for anything, but it's enough time for Lola to locate the side door of the pub and to get on her knees in the breezy summer air with Vince's hands fisted in her hair. She makes herself scarce once he's come and Nikki's looking for the two member of the group he'd left behind; she's too giddy to not look guilty.

When she comes home at the end of the night, well past midnight, Mick's gone home and the other three are laying about, drinking and deciding on whether or not to see if someone better was playing further along The Strip.

"No afterparty tonight?" Nikki asks, and Lola gives him a little, subdued smile, leaning against the back of the armchair where Vince was slouched, though she's pointedly not looking at him.

"Nope, I'm calling it early; they had four quad boxes and no damn upper body strength between them."

Both Nikki and Tommy booed as a show of support, and Vince joins in with them as they're calling the band a string of probably unwarranted insults, and Lola laughs, soft and actually a little endeared, heading to the bathroom to wipe of her makeup.

"Fuck, alright whatever, I'm gonna call it a night too, see you guys at practice," Nikki stands and stretches, nodding to the other two. Vince hums something about calling Beth from the payphone to pick him up, and Tommy asks for a ride home, and they're vacating not long after, calling out goodbyes to both Nikki and Lola.

Things don't feel much different the next day. She and Vince share an amused little smile as she shuffles about the apartment half-asleep when the guys arrive for rehearsal. She's wearing one of Nikki's shirts that shows off a dark hickey on her collar that hadn't been there yesterday, and Nikki's got a matching one on his hip that Vince only spots when he reaches for a beer in the cabinet over the sink - the kitchen layout continues to baffle everyone but Nikki and Lola - and his shirt comes up enough to expose it.

Vince thinks he's coming to realise what Mick means when he says 'girls like Lola', but, honestly, he can't for the life of him figure out why that's a bad thing.

[missmarrypotter]

Tommy ain’t always right, You know!?

Finn Shelby x OC (Olive)❤️

I'm just so in love with this boy, Finn is an angel!!

WARNING: making out!? but more fluff i think

English it not my first language so please excuse my mistakes.🤗

She grabbed her Jacked and rushed out of the office. The look she shot Thomas Shelby before stepping outside was full of disappointment and blankness. She didn’t wait for any respond.  “You need to be a man … bullshit he does ..” she mumbled to herself, running through the hidden, dark and smoke filled alleys of Birmingham. It was much colder than she thought, the fresh air of the night burning in her lungs from running.

“Finn!!!”, She almost shouted at her Childhood Friend who was about to disappear behind yet another corner.

“Finn fuckin Shelby!! Wait.”

He stopped right there, turning around. He Looked tired. But when he recognized her he put on a smile, waiting for her to reach him.

“Olive, what’s with ya!?”, he was quiet amused seeing her breathless like that. “Why did ya run!?”

“Cause those legs ya got there are like twice as long as mine ..” she explained gasping, pulling him into a hug.

He hugged her back, stroking her dark brown hair carefully.

“Did anythin happen? Ya alright?!” He asked, tensed and sounding slightly worried. He relaxed when she shook her head, sighting in relief. She interrupted the hug and took a step back.

“ I was in the room as well when ...ya know.. that talk with Tommy and stuff   ” she told him, looking right into his blueish green eyes, waiting for his reaction.

He looked down at his feet, his jaw clenched. He looked kind of ashamed and guilty at the same time.

Silence. Just for Seconds but it felt like hours. Finn fumbled around with his hands while Olive nibbled on her chin long hair.

“I liked what ya said back there” She cleared the silence, scratching the back of her head.

He looked at her with lots of confusion in his eyes.

“ Wha .. are ya shitting me!?” He asked, not really believing what he just heard.

He thought Olive would react completely different. He thought she would scold him for losing his virginity to some whore Lizzie, Aunt Polly and Linda rented for him. She grew up in a brothel herself since she was 6 years old. Madam Adley found her that age and adopted her into her family. Schooled her. Fed her. Sarah Adley had no children on her own so her Ladies were her family. Her daughters. She treated them all very well. Her business was for the high society only. For rich Men and Women to forget and enjoy themselves. Olive herself had worked there for a year when she turned 16.

To secure her loved ones safety Madam collaborated with the Peaky Blinders. They kept violent lovers away and made sure everybody paid and in return the girls gave some informations about their clients or their Bodys to the Blinders.

Through that Finn and Olive met at the very young age of 7. They soon bonded and the Shelbys became the girls second family. She proved herself trustworthy very quick and her big green eyes, her open, loving nature as a child and later her charming smile and her feminine curves were often very helpful to interact with new allies or enemies. She had a very sharp mouth if she had to and never lost her words. But she could also be as quiet and nondescript as a mouse so no one would notice her like today in the office. They even allowed her to stay through family meetings since no private conversation she witnessed had ever met a third ones ear. They loved her and she loved them. Apparently some more and in a different way than others. Tommy decided to employ her as a gift for her 17th birthday. She was good with customers and numbers and that way they were able to look after her. Win Win Situation for everyone. Finn secretly was very happy about that. So his Olive didn't had to do these humiliating things anymore. He never thought he would ever in his life have sex against payment himself because the thought of someone buying his girls body made him sick so many times. Buying a person like some object just sounded so wrong to him even if it seemed to be normal for his brothers. He always imagined his first time a completely different way. With someone he loved. Someone who wanted him. To be honest he always thought it would be with her. But he was too shy to make a move. He always thought he wasn’t good enough for her. Not manly enough. Not experienced enough.

If only he knew she wished the same thing.

But since she had to help her Mother out back then to safe her Business, she felt dirty. She was happy to help, she always was. On the other hand she didn't feel good enough for the boy she took a liking in anymore. So she never made a move as well. But now she had to say something. She had to tell him how much of a man he was to her. Has always been.

Out of the sudden she smiled. She just happily smiled at him, giving him chills.

“I don't want it like that ever again, tom.

Not when they don't even want to do it , expect for the money.” She repeated his words from earlier, taking his hands.

“It made me so fucking happy when you said that.” She whispered squeezing his hands, taking a step forward.

A perplexed Finn gently placed his chin on the top of her head.

“ But Tommy was right when he said that everyone gets tired. That everything these days is for money. That i need to be a man” he muttered into her hair, placing a little kiss there without even realizing it.

“But you are a man, Finn”

She loved the shelby boys a lot. But She honestly never would have wanted to trade with any of their woman. She wanted someone she could rely on. Someone she didn't have to fear about not coming home because he picked unnecessary fights that started people and himself getting killed . Someone who didn't yell all the time. Someone who wouldn't keep secrets from her. Someone who would never look at another woman the way he looked at her. Someone who would never cheat. Someone like Finn.

She got up on her tiptoes, nuzzling her face into the crook of his neck, hugging him as tight as she could. He placed his hands on her back, pressing her body against his.

“Tommy was right that there is an empty space to be filled now that John is dead. And yes everybody gets tired someday.But that does not mean you have to become like them. There is nothing wrong with not fighting everything, anytime, at any cost. There is nothing wrong with wanting love instead of a quick fuck. Because so do i .. ”

Her last words were almost too quiet to hear them, but he did. She gently kissed his cheek  before she let him out of her squeeze, taking his hands once again. He Was speechless. Did he hear it right!? Did she mean that she wanted him or just true love in general!?

His breathing was too slow to see any movement on his chest but his heart did the exact opposite. It was about to explode.

“And even though it might sound crazy …. Tommy ain’t always right, You know!?. Not everything is for money. True love ain’t . He should know that better than anyone.. god that sounds like such a cliche” she laughed, letting go of his hands. But as soon as she did so his right hand was right back around her wrist, pulling her closer while he placed his other one on her cheek, caressing it gently with his thumb.

“Good. Cause i don't have any fuckin money .. but i luv ya so much”, he whispered into her ear. His voice was raspy and slightly shaking from nervousness and the freezing aerial. Both of their hearts stopped right there, both holding their breaths.

He laid his forehead against hers, brushing her nose with his, their lips almost touching.

As he managed to respire again his hot breath brushed over her ice cold lips. Now there were Goosebumps all over her body. She wanted to say something. She wanted to say those words back but her vocal cords wouldn’t allow it. Instead her hands just grabbed his soft cheeks, closing the small gap between their lips. Out of the sudden her whole body seemed to warm up. By the touch of his soft lips. By his hand clawing into the hair of the back of her head in response while his other hand found its way to her hip, holding into her tight. Their Lips seemed to perfectly match up. Their movements slow but impassioned. Finn Tasted like whisky and cigarettes while Olive tasted more like plums and black tea. It was a perfect combination. Soon things heated up. Finn had her pinned against the wall of some house, his hands on her bum to hold her up. Her thighs were wrapped around his waist, the right hand gently tugging his hair while her left one softly scratched his neck. The desire they both kept a secret for a quiet long time finally turned into something real.

Finns tongue slid over her bottom lip, before allowing them a break to take a breath. Both were heavily panting when they heard a suggestive whistle.

It was Isaiah. Standing there with his hands in his pockets, grinning from one ear to the other.

“Well if the two of ya are done swallowing each other we could head to the Garrisons like we planned, aye!?” he teasingly said.

“Ough i totally forgot…” finn said, setting Olive down. Both of them fixed their hair and cloth as much as possible before walking over to their friend. Isaiah laid his arms around his mates still grinning widely.

“Finally guys, finally!” He laughed.

Finn and Olive shot each other a approving look.

“Well we know ya going to tell everyone about this Issy, so please make sure to tell Pol, Linda and Liz as well so they don't feel the need to rent my boyfriend a whore ever again, yep!?”

“I totally will sweetheart, everything for my love birds” he assured.

At the Garrisons everyone congratulated them like they've just announced their wedding or something. They were really sweet and supportive. Tommy, Arthur and Polly each gave them a speech about the birds and the bees and how they would support them if Finn would get her pregnant anytime soon but that they'd prefer if there was no need to. It was really weird but fun at the same time. When the Garrisons cleared up Tommy offered to drive the two young ones home. They gratefully refused. A walk home, just the two of them would be perfect now. They said goodbye to everyone, leaving hand in hand. Finn walked her home to Madam Adley's house, never letting go of her hand. As they arrived he walked her to the door. He leaned against the frame of the big wooden door, letting go of her hand. She turned to face him. She had the happiest expression he had ever seen on her.

“I love you too , Finn.”

He softly smiled, pecking her nose.

“I know. But you saying it …. Feels damn awesome, Luv” he chuckled. She jokingly rolled her eyes at him, fumbling around with his jacked.

“I'd love to have company while sleeping tonight, Finn” she mumbled, slightly smirking.

He slightly blushed, brushing some hair behind her right ear.

“ Sure can do, Babygirl” he just smirked and kissed his girl lovingly. Then he picking her up, carrying her inside.

Things went a little different than actually planned. Madam and some of the girls were still awake and insisted that instead of doing god knows what they should join them for some drinks. They did. So everything that happened tonight was one of Olives sisters vomiting, Sarah Adley offering Finn to come by anytime as long as he treated her daughter well and 6 bottles of wine being destroyed. After that both of them just fell into bed, immediately falling asleep in each others arms. In the morning both of them just stayed in there, trying to sleep their massive hangover away. Honestly it was kind of a good start in their relationship. Things would happen sooner or later so why rush in. The important thing was that their relationship was  clarified and official now and everyone supported them. The future would settle the rest.

[twistedrunes]

Closer

Hello friends!

Here is the next piece from the recent prompt event (the original prompt list can be found here, however, requests for this list are closed)

This is a Michael fic and includes the following prompts:

1: “Stay here tonight.” 2: “I’ll keep you warm.” 5: “I can’t sleep, can I sleep here?” 25: “Come cuddle.” 65: “I’ll keep you warm.” - apparently, this was on the list twice. 

AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16905864

This story is set between the family’s release from prison and the arrival of the Mafia. 

Warnings: Language, smut, heavy angst.

Even in the warm glow of the lantern, Michael looked pale. You un-cock your gun, slipping it into your holster. The soft click causing him to lift his head. Unwrapping himself from the neck of the bay mare he turns towards you lifting his hand to shield his eyes from the light. “Agnes?” His voice creaks like an old door, stiff with underuse.

“Yeah Mike, it’s me.” You reply softly.

He grunts indecipherably. You notice he’s swaying slightly. His eyes look sunken, cheekbones and jaw sharper than before. Older. Much older than when you last saw him five months ago. “Hm,” he hums his tone indicating surprise. At what you could only guess. He gives a little shrug as if deciding it wasn’t worth thinking about before he rests his head back on the neck of the horse.

You lift the lantern to the hook between the stalls. “She missed you.” You say holding your hand up for the mare to nuzzle. She huffs gently against your palm, obviously vexed you had no treat for her.

“I missed her,” Michael mumbles into her neck. “How’s she been?”

“Good, fine.” You reply. You bite your tongue to stop yourself asking him the same question in return.

“She looks good,” he says rubbing his hand out to her shoulder. “Well looked after.”

“Unlike you.” The words leave your mouth before they cross your mind.  You curse your lack of tact.

Before you can apologise Michael snaps. “Yeah well, I reckon she ate fucking better than we did.” He says bitterly, body tensing as he turns his face away from you. “Bet you Tommy fuckin’ came and visited them once or twice too.”

You shrink back slightly from his anger. His voice harder, harsher than you’d ever heard it. The air is thick with silence, despite the gentle noises of the horses, the shuffling of their hooves in the hay and the soft snuffles and snorts of their breathing.

“I came,” you begin softly, “but they sent me away.”

Michael grunts again, “Told ‘em to.” He says making no attempt to face you. You bite the inside of your lip to stop the tears, you had thought they were punishing him. Not that he didn’t want to see you. Before you can say anything he speaks again, voice softer, weary “You should never step foot in a place like that.” He says by way of explanation before falling silent again. You wait unsure of how to respond. Michael makes no attempt to interact with you further.

You’re about to leave, thinking Michael probably wanted to be alone. “I can’t sleep,” he says, his face pressed against the horse’s neck. The simple statement strained with a desperation that stopped you cold. “Can I sleep here?” It’s not a question but a plea. “Here.” He clarifies pointing to the corner of the stall.

He reminds you of a newly broken horse. One that had been broken cruelly with whips and sharp bits. Not like the horses you worked with, trained with encouragement and kindness. Like you had done for Michael’s horse. You find yourself carefully sliding into the stall, approaching him slowly as if he would startle. “You can’t sleep in here Michael it’s not safe.” You say kindly “She might stand or roll on you by mistake.” You explain brushing your hand over his shoulder soothingly.

Michael turns to your touch, collapsing against you. His trembling fingers digging into the flesh on your hips. “I’m going mad, by myself in that house.” His voice is muffled, face buried in the thick collar of your coat.

“Okay,” you say quietly resting your cheek against the top of his head. “Come upstairs. Stay here tonight.”

“Do you want to talk about it?” You ask handing Michael a cup of tea, leaning back against the kitchen table.

Michael leans forward, elbows, upper arms and face resting on the table top. The cup of tea held above his head, his hands gripping the cup with such force you fear it might shatter. His posture is rigid, shoulders rising and falling rapidly with his breath, biceps flexed and restrained by the confines of the sleeves of his jacket. His body is alert, poised to fight or run at any moment.

You turn so your hip is resting against the edge of the table and place your palm between his shoulders, smoothing the material of his jacket along his spine. Michael lowers the cup to the table slowly before turning his body towards you. His head doesn’t lift, his arms wrapping tightly around your waist, the crown pressing above your hip. He pulls you hard against him.

“I can’t shake the fucking place.” He speaks quickly, ferociously, his words clipped short. His body shaking slightly with the added strain of restraining his already tense muscles. You rub his back soothingly, rocking in an attempt to calm him. Michael takes a deep breath. “I can’t get fucking warm.” He admits his voice so strained it sounds as if it would snap at any moment.

Loosening Michael’s grip, you duck down, resting your hands on his knees for support. “Let’s go to bed, ‘eh? It’s late.” You say looking up at him, trying to meet his eye.

Michael’s hands rest heavily on your shoulders, his thumbs resting against your neck, his head still ducked and turned avoiding your gaze “Can’t sleep. Can’t close my eyes.”

Your hand finds his cheek turning his face towards you. Michael resists, you kiss the corner of his mouth lightly. “We don’t have to sleep, just come cuddle ‘eh?” You stand again, taking his hand in yours encouraging him out of the chair.

Michael nods and follows, you sit on the edge of the bed. Michael sits next to you. “Come on, shoes and socks off.” You instruct quietly, already removing your own. Michael does as instructed. You stand in front of him, sliding your hands from his chest over his shoulders pushing his jacket off. Your fingers find his buttons, popping the first two open. Michaels hand rises and covers yours “No, too cold.” He says, still not looking at your face.

You bend down taking his face in your hands, your thumbs rubbing over his cheeks. “I’ll keep you warm.”  You assure him before pressing your lips to his again. He doesn’t reciprocate, lips not moving, eyes not meeting yours.

You nod and pull back, reaching past him to pick his jacket up off the covers. Crossing the room to hang it on the hook by the door. When you turn back, Michael is standing again. You suppress a sigh. He reaches for you, pulling you back against him again once you are within reach. His face nuzzling into your neck, breathing deeply. The feeling of his hot breath on your neck is welcome. Your eyes close as his hands start to roam. Hesitantly at first until anguished yearning takes over. He kisses your neck “I missed you.” He says following it with a longer, slower, sucking kiss, drawing the flesh into his mouth. You moan. Michael’s own guttural hum joining your own as his hands slip up under your shirt and come in contact with your skin. “Every day.”

“I missed you too.” You reply, your fingers finding his buttons again, this time unhindered.

Michael’s hand rises to your neck. The palm and fingers rougher than before causing you to shiver as he slides it up your neck before plunging into your hair. He grips the back of your head firmly as he crashes his mouth against yours. You shiver again with the passion of it. He presses harder, forcing your lips apart with his. You groan softly as his tongue plunges into your mouth. His hips grind against you as you suck his tongue deeper into your mouth. His groan flowing into your mouth. You push his shirt from his shoulders. Breaking your kiss momentarily, Michael’s hands lift yours off over your head not bothering with the buttons. He looks down admiringly at you, groaning quietly as his hands roam over you.

Unbuttoning his pants you push them and his underwear off his hips, before repeating the process on your own. You reach up behind you, deftly undoing your bra and shimmying it off before dropping it to the floor between you.

Michael groans again as your breasts squash against his chest. His cock skimming the smooth skin on the inside of your hip. His hands come to your hips as he bucks against you reflexively. You stroke his back, calming him as he remains motionless, forehead resting against your collarbone. Recovering himself he reaches behind him and yanks down the covers on your bed. Your single bed wasn’t really big enough for two, but you had made it work before. Both panting you scramble into the bed, quickly finding each other again. Lying on your sides, mouths and hands exploring, you reacquaint yourselves with the topography of each other’s bodies. You press your forehead against his, forcing him to look at you.

You smile softly, stroking his cheek before pressing your lips gently to his. Michael’s eyes flitter closed momentarily before flying open, eyes wide with fear. He pulls away from you. You stroke his cheek “Mike?”

He shakes his head as if trying to dislodge an image. “The noose.” He says voice flat “Every time I close my eyes.”

You nod in understanding, your hand on his hip pulling him back to you. You take his face in your hands kissing his forehead, cheeks, the tip of his nose, lips and along his jaw to his neck.

“Closer.” Michael murmurs, shifting his weight to one arm as he uses the other to pull you under him. He relaxes his weight against you, mouth on yours again. He slides his forearms under your back, supporting his weight while being as close to you as possible. Your legs entwine as you press yourselves against the other’s thigh.

“I’m here.” You say your hand caressing his neck. His mouth drops to your collarbone, pressing hard frantic kisses there. You rest your head against his as he lays on top of you, his kisses soften as you work your fingers in the hair at the back of his head and whisper soothing words in his ear.

Only his hips move as he grinds slowly against you. Your free hand finds his hip, your thumb rubbing it in time with his languid thrusts. You’re aching, having waited so long for him to be with you again, your sex throbbing with each movement of his hips. “I’m here.” You repeat.

“I need you closer.” He straightens his arms lifting his weight from you, eyes finding yours.

“I’m here.” You encourage, meeting his gaze and moving your legs so you are open to him.

Michael adjusts himself slightly to support his weight as he takes himself in hand. You both hiss as the head of his cock slides along you, quickly gathering wetness from you, easing its path. “Fuck.” He groans, head falling back. He jerks again as his eyes close.

“Michael look at me.” You tell him, your fingers brushing his jaw guiding it down. “Look at me.” You say your hand wrapping around his cock and stroking it. Long slow strokes until you see the fear in his eyes begin to recede. “Good.” You encourage.

Michael leans in slightly, opening you further. His sighs softly, eyes burning into yours. “Closer.” He nearly begs.

Smiling softly you guide him to your entrance. You groan in unison as Michael presses into you. His absence making everything feel new again. Reaching up, you catch his chin in your fingers, pulling his face down to yours. “Look at me.” You repeat, your fingers sliding to the back of his neck. His eyes burn into yours, you tug at his neck “Closer.” Michael rolls his hips, sliding further into you. You groan as he begins to fill you, he remains still waiting for you to adjust to his girth. Your eyes widen as he pushes still further, fully sheathed now his eyes begin to roll again, you press your nails into his neck slightly “Look at me.” You remind him.

His jaw tenses, flexing as he nods, rolling his hips again. He withdraws and pushes back into you with agonising slowness. “Fuck you feel good,” He sighs dropping down on one elbow, sliding his hand under your head his fingers tangling in your hair as the other lifts your knee up near his ribs allowing him to press further into you. “Fuck.” He groans as he reaches the apex of his thrust, watching your pupils blow. His mouth latching on to yours, sucking your bottom lip into his mouth and releasing it between his teeth. You force your eyes to hold his as rhythm increases. He kisses along your jaw, the heat of his lips bringing your hand to his ass trying to increase his pace. He nips at your neck.

“Michael,” you moan as his pace increases and he adjusts you slightly under him so the head of his cock presses your g-spot. “Fuck.” You cry in ecstasy hands pushing against his shoulders so can you see his face. “Look at me, I’m gunna,” you can’t finish the sentence.

He meets your eye, a glimmer of a smile on the corners of his mouth “I know.” He nods, withdrawing nearly completely before slamming back into you.  

“Ugh, oh, cum with me,” you beg.

He shakes his head “I want this to last.” He strokes your cheek with his hand “cum for me, remind me how beautiful you are when you cum on my cock.” He thrusts again, rolling his hips at the top of his stroke, his pubic bone bumping against you, changing the pressure on your clit. Your nails dig into his shoulders and your legs wrap around his waist as you spasm. You moan unintelligibly as you have no choice but to relent to his wishes. You force your eyes open, holding his gaze as you cum. The intensity of him watching you as you fall apart increasing the strength of your orgasm. “Fucking gorgeous.” He moans.

You’re still quivering, as he rolls to his side, keeping himself within you as he does so. Your legs entwine. Michael holds you to him, hand gliding over your back as your aftershocks come and go, the feeling of him still hard and thick within you nearly pushing you over the edge again. You caress each other, mouths and hands roaming as you thrust against each other slowly. The position, keeping orgasm at bay allowing you to be as close as possible to each other. You murmur affirmations to each other, telling each other how good they feel, how good you feel, how much you had missed each other. 

Slowly the fire builds within you both, Michael’s hands finding your hips and pulling you against him as his thrusts increase in frequency and strength. You cum wrapped in each other, foreheads pressed together, eyes locked and breathe and cries mingling as you praise and encourage each other. You stay that way afterwards, giving each other gentle kisses, light touches caressing each other’s skin.  

You search Michael’s eyes, relieved to see some of the darkness gone, replaced with lazy haze. You shuffle yourself so his head rests on your shoulder, your arm wrapped around him. Fingers trailing lazy patterns over his skin. Lacing the fingers of your other hand with his and resting them on your abdomen. You hold him, caressing him as his breathing slows, his muscles relaxing slightly under your touch. You kiss his forehead gently and watch him sleep.

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