#purpled saw tommy and saw fucking red

[novashelby]

He'll Kill and Die for Me: Dark!Evie Au

Summary: Evelyn isn't happy about her father's wedding and has some choice words for Grace. And to Grace's disappointment, Tommy isn't the supportive husband he promised to be.

Warnings: Mention of killing, mention of suicide, dark!Evie, Au.

Words: 650

This is not related to the actual story. Just an AU I wanted to dabble into. Though, something similar does happen in the main story, just not like this.

Read, comment, and reblog!

Martha told her that you can’t wear white to a wedding, but Evelyn Shelby hadn’t gave a single fuck. She wore white, showed up late, and had red lipstick on her face. And, best of all, she sat in the front, her middle finger propped nicely on her knee. She didn’t hate many, but she fucking couldn’t stand the purple clad bitch. “You’re not very discreet,” her Aunt Ada whispered. “Actually, you’re quite disrespectful.” But she could only grin in response because she knew what she was doing, staring at her father. 

And when it came time for the reception, she had no care to be there. Socializing and mixing with them. Her, of all people, her. But when she went upstairs, Grace had been lingering in her bedroom. “You know, Evelyn,” she said, watching as the young girl twitched. 

“I don’t like people in my room-”

“There’s help for girls like you,” she continued, malice tainting her words. “You need help. Your father isn’t your lover, Evelyn, he’s your father-”

“He isn’t really your lover, either,” Evelyn retorted. “No, you had one back wherever the fuck you were. Wrung himself with a rope, did he? Must feel nice knowing you can kill a man just by existing.” If the wench was to insinuate Evelyn had any more than daughter-father affections for Tommy, she was going to play the game and make sure she got to the finish line before Grace. She moved forward. “You should really be careful, you know.”

Grace, deadpanned and dryly asked, “why is that?”

“Be careful around the stairs. They’re bit high-”

“Are you threatening me?”

“And one day,” Evelyn paused, dragging out her words. “You may just…slip.”

“You want to push me down the stairs,” Grace concluded, swallowing. “Very well, then, Evelyn. You can continue to live in your delusions.” Grace stood from the white painted vanity, pausing at the door frame, giving the girl a look. “What happened to the kind girl-”

“I’m not kind to those who betray my father-”

“Now you’re just a young girl, but stupid.”

Later as the reception cleared out, Tommy knocked on Evelyn’s door, but didn’t wait for her to answer. Grace was behind him. She looked up from her desk, smiling, but her father wasn’t. “Evelyn, did you and Grace have a talk earlier?”

She blinked and pretended to think. “Um, hmm, earlier? A brief one.”

Tommy sighed, sitting on the edge of the bed, hands folded. “Did you tell Grace that you’d push her down the stairs?” He was clearly uncomfortable with the confrontation. Evelyn, shocked, stood from her vanity. 

“Daddy! How…why…how could you come up with something so silly like that?” She sat on his lap, which he cradled her. “Daddy, look at me,” she whispered, holding his face in her hands. “When have I ever done something so harsh?” Tommy’s frown broke into a soft smile, and Evelyn leaned in, placing a lingering kiss on his cheek.

“I know,” he whispered, hand rubbing circles on her back. “It’s just a misunderstanding.” Grace’s face dropped all emotions as she stood there, repulsed and confused…gaslit and humiliated. As Evelyn hugged her father tightly, she grinned at Grace and raised her middle finger.

Sliding off his lap, she smiled. “I’m sorry if you may have misheard me. I was telling you that the maids were polishing the stairs this morning. They’re still slippery, daddy. Saw Uncle Arthur take a bit of a trip.” He smiled down at her, running his fingers through her hair. 

“Well, that’s settled,” he said, fixing his coat. He started to walk out and said, “I’m going to grab the car and then we’re off, love.” He gave Grace a kiss.

When Evie was sure of it, she snorted, walking to the baffled bride. Grabbing her jaw roughly with her thumb and index, she said, “remember, Grace, daddy will fight for you, but he’ll kill and die for me.”

[dragonflylady77]

people like us

So... yesterday (today? timezones, man...) was @thissortofsorcery's birthday and I decided around 5pm that I'd write a fic for her.

2502 words later... read on Ao3

HAPPY BIRTHDAY BESTIE!!!

Summary:

Billy apologizes, Robin helps Steve with something, then she helps Billy with something.

Steve was standing against his car when he spotted Hargrove walking towards him. He planted his feet, crossing his arms over his chest and waited. It had been a couple of months since the fight at the Byers’ and they’d both done a good job avoiding each other.

He’d heard from Dustin that Max had told the gang Billy was sticking to his word and staying out of her way. The guy didn’t seem to hang around Tommy and his clique anymore and Steve wondered who he was hanging out with. He wasn’t sure why he wondered, but he did.

Hargrove stopped a couple of feet away, taking a deep drag on his cigarette before dropping it on the ground and crushing it with his boot. “Harrington.”

“Hargrove,” Steve said, his face showing none of the turmoil he was feeling inside. He wondered what had compelled him to press a finger to Billy’s chest that night, but he couldn’t get out of his head how warm and soft Billy’s skin had been.

“I took it too far that night, and for that I am sorry. My dad, um, my dad made it very clear that I needed to bring Maxine home and when you lied to me about it and wouldn’t let me take her with me, I saw red. That wasn’t your fault, but you have to agree that a thirteen-year-old girl had no business being alone with a bunch of boys at night in a house in the middle of nowhere.”

Steve felt his face heat up. “That’s not… I mean… I don’t…” he sputtered. What the fuck ?

“Yeah, I know that now, but you gotta admit it looked dodgy as hell. Anyway, you don’t have to forgive me or anything, but I wanted to say I’m sorry I made your face my punching bag.”

“Oh, um, okay.” Steve was having a hard time processing.

Billy nodded. “See ya.”

A car door slamming shut snapped Steve out of his trance and he realized Hargrove had left while he was staring into space. He heard the bell and swore under his breath, grabbing his bag out of his car before running towards the school.

The day passed in a daze and last period found Steve in the library for his tutoring session. His English teacher had arranged for someone from his AP class to help Steve with his college essays. Steve couldn’t ask Nancy anymore, obviously, things were too awkward. Part of him hoped it would be Billy Hargrove, though he doubted the new King of Hawkins High would want to spend more time with a washed out loser like Steve…

“Steve Harrington?” a decidedly female voice said next to him and he sat up, blinking. 

“Yes?”

“Hi. I’m Robin Buckley. Mr. Crowder asked me to help you with your college essays.” Robin sat in the chair next to him, dumping her backpack in the chair next to her. She pulled out a purple pencil case that was bursting at the seams and turned to him expectantly. “Well?”

“Well, what?” Steve had no idea what was going on and he was sure it showed on his face. This girl would no doubt tell everyone he was an idiot.

“Show me. Your essay.”

“Oh, right.” Steve reached in his bag and pulled out a slightly mangled sheet of paper. He passed it to Robin and tried to ignore the face she made as she flattened the sheet with her hand. “Sorry,” he mumbled, looking down at his hands on the table.

“It’s okay.” 

Steve felt her shrug then she started reading, a red pen at the ready. She read it slowly, clearly taking her time, and rereading it a few times as well. The amount of red marks on his essay made Steve wonder why he’d bothered at all.

Once she was done, she put her pen down and looked at Steve, an apologetic look on her face. “Okay, Steve. Um, it’s not all bad. You have some good ideas in there, but the execution is, um, shall we say, clunky.”

Letting out a groan that earned him a glare from the librarian, Steve crossed his arms on the table and hid his head in them. “I suck, I know.”

“Do you even want to go to college?” Robin asked, her voice muffled.

Steve shrugged. He was tired of his father yelling at him about his shit grades, his lack of prospects if he didn’t get into college, even how short-sighted he had been breaking it off with the Wheeler girl. Life sucked, and now he was kinda maybe having daydreams about what it would feel like to kiss Billy Hargrove.

“Ugh,” was the answer he gave Robin, lifting his head to peer at her. “My dad won’t shut up about it, threatens to cut me off if I don’t get in somewhere. But this study thing? Not sure it’s for me, yanno. Senior year is hard enough. From what all my teachers are saying, I’ll be lucky to graduate.”

“What are you going to do then? Work for your dad?”

“Ha!” Steve scoffed. “As if the great Richard Harrington, Jr. would stoop so low as to give his dumbass son a job in his successful empire.”

“Wow, okay… well, I work at Melvald’s on the weekend and they’re looking for a delivery boy. You have a car, you should apply. Don’t tell your dad and earn your own money.”

“Why are you helping me? I mean, you seem great, don’t get me wrong, but we don’t even know each other…”

“Everyone in the school knows who you are, Steve… but I don’t know.” Robin shrugged. “You don’t seem to have many friends and you look sad a lot.”

Steve had nothing to say to that. Her assessment was almost spot on. “I have friends…” he mumbled, embarrassed.

“Middle schoolers do not count, Steve, I don’t care what they tell you to get rides everywhere.”

“How do you know about that?” Steve sat back in his chair, staring. What the hell? Who was this girl and how did she know so much about him?

“I’m in the school band, dingus. I’m as good as invisible. And I’m very observant. For example, I saw you and Billy Hargrove have a chat this morning.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah. It surprised me because, last I’d heard, he was leaving you alone after he bashed your head in, last November.”

“He, um, he came to apologize for that, actually.”

“Nice. So… are you going to see him again?”

“What? What are you—no!” Steve looked around, checking to see if anyone was paying attention to them. Thankfully, the few students in the library seemed busy with their own things and they were far enough away that they wouldn’t have heard Robin. “No, it’s not like that,” he whispered furiously, inwardly shushing the little voice in his head saying that he would like it to be.

“Awww, you’re blushing… Your secret is safe with me.” Robin leaned closer and whispered, “I love a good enemies to lovers romance.”

Steve couldn’t make words, he could barely breathe, his mind stuck on a loop of ‘ whatthefuckwhatthefuckwhatthefuck ’ until the bell rang, moments later, snapping him out of it. He heard someone walk in, the stomping of boots familiar as hell, and he whipped his head to look, even if he already knew. Throwing Robin a small smile, he grabbed his essay from the table and shoved it in his bag. “I have to go.”

He forced himself to walk past Hargrove on his way to the exit, nodding back when Hargrove nodded, and managed to stop himself from running all the way to his car. He sat in his BMW, shaking like a leaf, trying to get his breathing under control before the kids showed up.

*****

“What was that about, Bird?” Billy asked Robin as he sat in the chair Harrington had just vacated. He tried not to react to the residual warmth of the plastic, considering who had been sitting on it. He failed.

“Not sure yet, my sweet. Crowder asked me to help Harrington with his college essay, and, hoo boy, he needs all the help he can get.” She smiled at him. “How was your day since your little chat with our former king this morning?”

Billy groaned, low enough that the librarian didn’t hear, leaning back in the chair. “Ugh. Of course, you know about that.”

“I was literally in the parking lot, and watched the painfully awkward encounter with my own eyes when I was chaining my bike.”

“Painful is accurate.” Billy rubbed both hands over his face then looked at Robin. He knew he was lucky they’d found each other. The two resident queer secret besties.

The basketball team had had an away game a couple of weeks after Billy had arrived in Hawkins. Unlike the cheerleaders, the band traveled with them. As the new guy on the team, Billy’d been assigned the last bed available, sharing a room with the member of the marching band that no one wanted to room with. 

Robin had told him as soon as the door had closed that she knew about his crush and that he needed to be more careful. Once Billy had recovered from the shock, they’d spend the night talking, exchanging stories and tips on how to appear less queer than they actually were. On the bus back to Hawkins, they’d gone into details about their current crushes, vowing to help each other. Billy had agreed to pose as Robin’s boyfriend in front of her parents, so they’d stop asking her about gross boys, and he was able to drop Robin’s name and keep Neil off his back—about the queer thing at least.

“I asked him what you said to him, and he said you had apologized.”

“I did.” Didn’t Robin say she had witnessed the interaction?

“Uh huh, that’s great, I’m proud of you, but wha—”

“Wow, you don’t have to sound so enthusiastic…” Billy deadpanned, hearing Robin’s complete lack of interest.

“Shut up. I asked him if he was going to see you again, and he blushed. He turned bright red, in front of my eyes, my sweet.”

“And?” Billy said, confused. What was Robin getting at?

“He didn’t deny it, he looked so flustered then you walked in and he ran off.”

“Again, and?”

“I think you should go to his house and, and, do that thing you do, you know, with your eyelashes and your mouth.”

“Flirting?”

“Yes, that. Go now, while he’s still all in a state. It’s your best chance.”

“Bird…”

“Fly, my pretty, go get your love,” Robin said, and she honest to god giggled. 

Billy rolled his eyes but had no choice but to do what she said because she started shoo-ing him and the librarian was now looking in their direction. 

He parked a couple of houses down from the Harringtons’ fancy mansion and made his way to the front door, ringing the bell and waiting. No matter what Robin had said, he really didn’t think Steve would open the door. He took a slow spin, taking in the surroundings, noticing the overwhelming amount of greenery in this part of town, especially compared to Cherry Lane.

“Billy?” Steve’s shocked voice said behind him. “What, um, what are you doing here?”

Billy turned around, taking in the soft looking sweater and joggers Steve was now wearing. “I came to see you, pretty boy. Robin said you needed some help and, well, here I am.”

“You… Come in already, it’s freezing out.” 

Steve moved to let Billy in and closed the door behind him. “ You want to help me ?” His tone was saying one thing but the way his eyes swept over Billy were saying another.

Billy took the two steps separating them, crowding Steve, but not quite touching him.

“You bet, pretty boy,” he whispered in the gap between them. “In any way I can…” He let his eyes drop to Steve’s mouth before making eye contact again. This close, he could see the flakes of gold in the brown. He wondered what Steve’s chocolate eyes would look like in the early morning sunlight.

Steve’s hands were on his jaw before Billy could react as Steve pulled Billy to him, slanting their mouths together. The surprised gasp that breached Billy’s lips was all Steve needed to slide his tongue in Billy’s mouth. 

The shock of Steve making the first move only lasted a moment. Billy wasted no time pressing Steve’s body against the door, his hands reaching under the hem of his sweater. His fingers encountered warm naked skin and Billy moaned.

“Fuck, Steve…”

“Not on the first date,” Steve said with a smile, burying his hands in Billy’s hair and pressing their foreheads together.

“Could be a date,” Billy replied, sliding a thigh between Steve’s legs, his heart rate picking up speed when he felt Steve grow hard against him.

“Billy…”

Billy never thought that hearing a guy whine his name would get him hot under the collar, but today was fraught with new and unexpected experiences.

“Yeah, baby, I’m here. I’ve got you. What do you need?” he asked Steve, nibbling along Steve’s jaw, before mouthing at the column of his neck.

“You. Me. Naked. My bed.”

*****

“Billy?” Steve asked, his head resting on Billy’s chest, fingers drawing patterns along his barely visible treasure trail. Billy had gone down on him then Steve had given his first ever blow job and he was pretty sure Billy had enjoyed it. He hoped Billy would let him do it again.

“Yeah?” Billy’s hand on Steve’s back didn’t stop; Steve took comfort in that.

“I… Robin said something earlier, about enemies to lovers romance and I want you to know, this isn’t an experiment for me.”

“No?” Billy’s voice was devoid of emotion and Steve didn’t like it.

“I really like you, Billy. I know what happened in November happened, but I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you.”

“Steve…”

“What I’m saying is, I know we can’t go out on dates, because it’s dangerous for people like us, but if you wanted, we could hang out here. Order in. Make out in the hot pool my parents installed last year.”

“I like your idea, Stevie, a lot.”

“So you’ll stay?”

Instead of answering with words, Billy flipped them over so he was on top, his hands in Steve’s hair holding him still as he licked into Steve’s mouth. Steve’s hands found Billy’s hips, helping the rolling rhythm that made them both groan and gasp. They never stopped kissing, moving against each other until they both reached their peak.

The ensuing shower to clean the mess that covered them both took so long that they ran out of hot water but they didn’t care. 

With the help of a little birdie, they’d found each other, and, well, that was worth all the cold showers in the world.

[trashland-llamas]

I Was a Human

[Written as part of the @mcyt-halloween gift exchange for @kozzax]

Jack remembered the burning inferno that was hell. How the embers had eaten away at his flesh and the smell of brimstone filled his lungs even though he was no longer there. Even now on the surface again, his eyes saw the desert basin with its red and purple sand. It was all still at the forefront of his mind but he couldn’t tell if it was a dream or reality. Clawing his way through the topsoil, he climbed up to his feet. His limbs felt so sluggish, so heavy. Barely able to use his body after months of laying in a tomb. His brain wouldn’t move his leg despite mentally screaming for it to move. It took a few tries before Jack could make his way to the front of the Big Innit hotel. 

Unclear if days or months had passed by. Walking through the doors, he made eye contact with Captain Puffy at the front desk. ‘But you’re supposed to be dead.’ Those words filled his body with a sense of dread. ‘Can I at least take a shower before dealing with all of this?’ Referring to the concept that was socializing. ‘Yea, sure. Take as long as you want.’ Handing over a random key card to an unused room. Not that the hotel had many patrons to begin with.

It annoyingly takes three separate attempts before the key card actually works like it’s supposed to. He didn’t have the energy to kick down the door nor the money to replace the damages that would cause. Sighing, Jack let the door fall shut behind him. The layout of the room is just the same as every hotel room he’d seen in his life. Immediately going to the adjoining en suite, he paused when he came into view with the mirror. Is that really what he looked like? Half of his body seemed to be composed of robotic elements. 

Hissing, he retracted his hand from where it had touched a patchwork of wires and stitches. No wonder Captain Puffy had looked at him with such a shocked expression. The components looked to be melted into the skin somehow. Scar tissue surrounding the edges. ‘How am I still alive?’ Jack asked himself in a low whisper, just now noting the caked dirt and blood under his fingernails. The right half of his body that was still skin, was more bloated and had a waxy consistency to it. Able to see his veins with the pallor, cheek bone extremely pronounced with its hollowness. Turning on the skin, he scrubbed under his fingers, watching as the water turned murky. Once happy, he pulled his upper lip up to see the state of his teeth. Not surprised at the yellowness and slightly irritated gums. 

Debating whether to get in the shower as he was unsure if he’d end up electrocuting himself. He had already died once and had gotten hell that time around. Who was to say he wouldn’t get some other realm the second time? With this ‘fuck it’ type mentality, Jack continued on, turning the facet to a random temperature he guessed to be lukewarm. Emitting a string of cuss words when he felt the water to be frozen cold. Ultimately discovering that he in fact wouldn’t electrocute. The robotic side did explain why his limbs had refused to operate earlier, heavier than his muscles. Asking himself if he’d have to incorporate polishing into his daily or weekly routine.

‘Thought Tommy was running this place, how long has it been since I died?’ Jack asked, now sitting across from Captain Puffy, wearing what clothes she could find from the lost and found that would fit him. ‘Tommy asked me to fill in for him today. Temporary thing. But it’s been…6 months since you died.’ Filling the cups in front of them with tea.

‘...6 months?’ Jack echoes, his mouth suddenly dry. He had been gone for half a year now, roughly 182 days. Yet the server had seemed unchanged. ‘Did–was I given a funeral? Did anyone mourn?’ His voice was hoarse from disuse, the phrasing stilted. If Captain Puffy didn’t know any better, she would describe his tone as angry. ‘No. You weren’t given a funeral, not an official one, but Ponk did write you a death certificate. Death by sinkhole, I believe.’

‘So no one?’ The question was a defeated one. He had gone through all that pain and suffering for what? To come back, barely half a man? ‘Jack, I’m merely one person. I can only give you my perspective. No one on this server keeps track of everyone, always involved in their own stuff. Ask around, there has to have been someone,’ Puffy sternly responded. While she was done being the server’s therapist, she wasn’t going to watch Jack run himself into the ground when he had done the impossible. When he had somehow managed to acquire his three lives back. ‘At least ask around. Give this living thing another shot. You used to be as thick as thieves with Niki.’ Giving him a vague starting direction. 

‘What if I can’t find a purpose?’ Jack asks. All that was left of the tea was the leaves at the bottom. Seeing a butterfly in the graininess as his finger ran around the cup’s rim. ‘You’ll find something. It’s only your first day back. You’re bound to rebuild,’ Puffy then tells him to sleep on it, cement the memories of the 6 months he spent in that hellscape. To Jack, it didn’t feel like 6 months. In fact, it had felt exponentially longer. Trapped in a purgatory where nothing looked recognizable. Where all he heard for miles were screams. And now he was dropped in a different state of limbo.

The rest was well needed as it made Jack realize what he had to do to gain some semblance of peace. The brain fog lifted and once he had spent enough time getting used to his new body, he left the hotel in search of Niki. Assuming she might feel the same, having been dealt a similar card by those in power thus far. They didn’t care who or what was lost when they played house, the presidential, special edition version. Noticing two people had been at the center of each and every conflict; Tommy and Dream. No one knew where to find Dream with his aloof nature, thus he’d have to go after the former. There’d have to be some consequences for treating others’ lives so carelessly. In itself, it was its own form of cruelty.

Alas, the journey ahead filled Jack with a fiery, bottled up rage that made it clear he’d only stop once he saw this endeavor to the end.

[redfoxwritesstuff]

Sunflower, Book 1, Chapter 25

Tom Hiddleston x OFC Series rated: M Chapter warnings: Flashback smut AN: Just a splash of my daddy issues, so sorry about that. I swear, I'm trying to keep it under control! Enjoy the last fluffy chapter before the angst really starts to amp up. Sorry not sorry. Masterlist AO3 KoFi

~~~~~<3

Tears gathered in Mia’s eyes as she looked at the little bit of magic Tom had worked. Mia had always felt guilty that she couldn’t give the big parties Sally would see on the TV and often she was too tired or too broke to even do a lot. Again and again, she told Tom to go small. Simple. Easy. 

She took comfort in the fact that the first few birthdays, kids don’t remember beyond the stories they’re told and the pictures they see. She wasn’t sure kids remembered their 5th birthday parties either but Tom had put in the effort to make it special, even while toeing the line of her request. 

Purple and pink balloons reflected the sparkling water. There were bottles of sparking juice and a handful of plastic champagne glasses, making the small party child fancy. Tom had pizzas, one peperoni and one cheese on each side of the bottom of a foam cooler upside down over what she assumed was the birthday cake. 

Tom was sitting on the edge of the pool pumping up the last of the floaties and for a moment, time froze and Mia’s heart skipped a beat. The strong sun shone on his bare back and arms, casting shadows in the dips of his defined muscles. His hair was alight with it, golden reds highlighting every wild curl in his short hair, stealing her breath away more than the definition in his back as he moved about comfortably. 

This was the man she married in a act of drunken stupidity. No, perhaps not stupidity after all, if she closed her eyes and indulged her heart. What if, just maybe, marrying this man three weeks ago was one of her life’s greatest decisions?

This was a man she could fall in love with. God, did he make it hard not to just fling herself headfirst in, reckless and trusting. It was hard to remind herself the importance of taking things slow when she saw him like that, sitting at the edge of the pool and blowing up kid’s pool toys as if it was the most important task of his life. As if it was a part of his life. As if he belonged. 

He was the father Sally deserved. God, if she could just give Sally this man as a father. If she could somehow change the fabric of reality and make this the man that fathered Sally,Mia would. That wasn’t possible but she could give him to her now, if she just was willing to take a risk, willing to trust.

Tom was a person though. There was no way she could force him to stay, no way she would want to if he wanted to leave. But fuck, if this could be their lives, she wanted him to want to stay. What if she tried and he left? What if Sally got to have this, really have it, and then lost it? What if it was her fault? What if she wasn’t a good enough woman to keep a man like Tom?

“Tommy!” Sally broke the moment, saving Mia from a lifetime spent in a single heartbeat and whirlwind of ‘what if’s. “It’s so pretty!”

Mia looked away from the way Tom smiled at Sally, directing her attention to her phone as it pinged in her hand, thankful for the distraction. Again, she texted Ray to see if he was coming on her way down.

“Fucking calm down” the message read, sent from her daughter’s father. He was a man she had once loved, who she had thought loved her at one point. “I’m on my fucking way.”

He was in a bad mood but that wasn’t unusual for him. He was always in a bad mood during the last few years or so. Mia was just thankful he had answered, if she was honest. It was rare that she could give Sally the gift of time with her father. This time, at least for her birthday, it looked like it was going to happen. 

“Sally will be so excited” Mia sent back. 

He didn’t respond. 

“Is Daddy coming?” Sally ran over as Tom reminded her that walking feet were important to use around the pool. Tom looked over to Mia with worry clearly etched on his face. 

“He said he’s on his way.” Mia said and in her gut, it felt like the wrong thing to say.

“Anything I should be aware of?” Tom asked, wrapping an arm around her waist and hugging her to him, a calculated risk he decided was worth it after the time spent at the ranch. 

“What do you mean?” His hand was cold from the pool water, causing goosebumps to cover her skin. It felt good seeping into her skin through the robe, cooling the skin heated by the desert sun. 

“Do I need to be worried about him trying to knock my head off or trying to drown me in the pool?”

Mia gave it a big of thought, “Don’t know, to be honest. We’ve never been in a situation even close to this before.”

“Lovely.” Tom’s voice came flat, though is fingers twitched against her waist. 

“You’ll be fine,” Mia patted Tom’s chest, trying to ignore the feeling of the sun warmed skin and firm muscle under hand while she laughed. “I’m sure you can out run him.”

“In this heat?” Tom teased as he gave her one last squeeze before returning to the pool.

It felt good to laugh together. To celebrate together. To be together.

Mia hesitated near the pool, watching as Sally and Tom splashed eachother. They were quickly becoming the picture of a family and it was magical to watch it happen. Sally deserved this. 

For Sally, Mia decided, she needed to invest in this marriage as much as Tom was. 

“Are you going to get in?” Tom asked after resurfacing from a dramatic splash induced water death. 

“Yeah, I just-”

“Mom’s shy.” Sally giggled. “I don’t know why, she’s so pretty.”

“She is pretty,” Tom agreed, nodding wisely to the small girl floating on the inflated unicorn next to him before making his way toward the steps of the pool. 

Rising out of the water one step at a time, water ran off of his chest and abdomen. Streams of water gathered to run down the valleys between muscles as her eyes followed. His hair was dark with water, plastered to his head. As he rose out of the water, his trunks clung to his hips and-

Yeah, she needed to pay attention to where she was and that the water was nice and cold. Stop looking at the man like he was a goddamn piece of meat. She was not some nineteen year old girl who’s not been around the block a few times. 

Keep your eyes on socially acceptable places. This was real life, not some romance movie. Keep it together. 

Tom was close to her now. She could see the scattered hairs on his chest. Was he feeling the same things she was in that moment? Was he thinking the same sort of thoughts looking down at her? Her heart was beating out of her chest. Was his?

Reaching out, Tom placed his hands on either side of her neck. Long fingers curled around the back of her neck and the pads of his thumbs rubbed against her jaw, spreading blessed coolness into overheated skin. His pinkies slipped under the silk fabric of her robe. 

Was he going to kiss her? Would he do it right there, in front of Sally and anyone who happened to pass by?

Slowly, Tom’s hands ran down her neck and over her shoulders. She was captivated by his eyes. As the neck of her robe expanded, pulling open she absently untied the belt. the silk fell away from her in a whoosh as Tom’s hands reached the curve of her shoulders. She caught the robe in her hands as it fell and just stood there, lost in the spell of his eyes. 

“There,” His voice was thick, like something had caught in his throat. “Now you can get in the pool.”

When Mia was slow to get moving, Tom seemed to return to life. He grabbed the robe from her hands as she slowly gathered it up. Balling it up, he tossed it onto a poolside chair. 

Without much warning or even giving himself a chance to over think things, he scooped her up in his arms. A squeak of shock captured Sally’s attention and then the little girl was cheering them on. 

Mia reflexively threw her arms around Tom as he descended the steps slowly. Realizing how much of her skin was directly touching his skin, she let go and tried to put distance between them. 

This did nothing but shift her weight, almost toppling the both of them into the water. Feeling herself becoming unsteady, she grabbed onto him again. He carried her down the steps as if she weighed nothing in his arms. 

It shouldn’t have surprised her, she saw his build. 

Tom enjoyed the feeling of having her in his arms. Her skin was hot against his water cooled skin. The contrast felt dizzying.

“You’re too hot.” Tom said, not realizing until after the words left his lips the double meaning. 

Instantly his face began to feel hot and he had very few options. Somehow, he thought falling forward with her in his arms into the pool where the shallows dropped off into the deeper water was the best response to the situation. 

Mia surfaced sputtering water. Her brown hair was soaked, hanging awkwardly in the hair clip that had been keeping it off her shoulders. Tom surfaced a moment later gasping for breath. He didn’t have a chance to wait for a potential wrath or catch his breath before Mia was splashing him. 

“What if I couldn’t swim!” She was laughing even as she voiced her outrage.

“I would have saved you.” His words came in short bursts between mouthfuls of water she flung at him. 

Sally was an equal opportunity attacker, armed with a squirt gun and a unicorn steed to escape on. She had no allies, she had no partners, and she took no prisoners in her aquatic attacks. 

Such a brutal attack left no other option but for the adults to join forces and take down the small tyrannical dictator of the pool, filling the air with splashes, water and the musical sound of a family at play.

They played for a rather long time before dragging themselves out of the water for pizza and drinks. Some other kids had joined them at complex pool, giving Sally other victims for round two of the master of the sea. 

Mia stood, robe hanging from her elbows mostly forgotten as she checked her phone for what felt like the hundredth time. Sally was distracted, laughing and sharing pizza with anyone who joined their mini party.

“Any word?” Tom asked, resting his hand on her back as he came up beside her. 

“No.” Resisting the urge to throw her phone, Mia simply locked it and placed it face down again. “He said he was on his way an hour and a half ago.”

 ~~~~~<3

Sally was tired when they finally made their way inside, carried by her mother. Tom made easy work of the few trips needed to bring what remained of the cake and presents inside. Mia was thankful for the additional hands, Sally alone was getting far too big to be carried home. 

For today though, she would carry her little girl as far as she wanted. Five years old now, Mia could hardly believe it. This little girl had changed her life and been with her through some of her most challenging times. She was Mia’s world. 

For Sally, Mia would burn the world down if needed. For Sally, Mia would give the world on a plater if she only asked. 

It killed her that there were things she couldn’t give her daughter though, things she deserved more than anything.

Ray never did show up. Mia wanted to believe something happened to him. Perhaps a car accident on the way? Maybe he was in the hospital, phone lost or destroyed? That would be better than knowing that he just decided to not show up to his daughter’s birthday party. Again. 

~~~~~<3~~~~~<3~~~~~<3~~~~~<3~~~~~<3

They moved together, chasing the release they both so desperately needed. The sound of skin slapping together filled the room. The bed springs sang a song of primal lust, accompanied by the music of their gasping moans.

Tom’s fingers bunched into a fist, catching her hand in the process. He held onto her as his wife clenched around him, driving him on, pulling him deeper. 

Close. He was so close now. He could only hope that she was there with him as she gasped in pleasure, arching against him. Her walls fluttered around him. He moaned deeply as begging pleas for more fell from her lips.

She was his. His wife. His new life. His new everything. 

She was his. 

Finally, he had someone. Finally, he was enough for someone. 

Finally. 

~~~~~<3

Tag List: @winterisakiller @alexakeyloveloki @jennyggggrrr @dangertoozmanykids101 @tilltheendwilliwrite @tinchentitri @wizardcherryblossom @kats72 @buttercupcookies-blog @violethaze @soulpiercing @evedia @princess-ofthe-pages

[mischievouslittlecreature]

Summary: At the party, some horrific truths come to light regarding Tommy, and the monster he has become entangled with.

Word Count: 2,640

Warnings: Smut, infidelity, and demons.

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Chapter 6: The Party

She spent the whole party avoiding Tommy.

Most of his family was nice enough, Ada chatted with her the most, and she got warm receptions from many of the other family members.

Well, warm on the outside; all bright smiles, welcoming handshakes, and hugs, but she could see the justified distrust in their eyes as they all looked at her.

She had never been so tired. And she was constantly questioning if anything that was going on around her was even real, or if she was still trapped within a dream of some kind. It made her head hurt to think about it.

Not to mention that stress around if Tommy knew her secret; if he’d been playing her this entire time.

Mumbling a quick excuse, she stepped away to get another drink and steady herself before another round of conversation. Slipping hastily through the door leading to a small sitting room, she froze at the realization that it was already occupied.

“Mrs. Gray,” she cleared her throat. “I didn’t–I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to disturb you–”

“It’s alright, dear,” Polly beckoned her to come closer, seated in a plush red armchair, black cigarette smoking between her fingers. Mrs. Shelby sank tentatively in the seat across from her, whiskey glass cupped between her hands. Polly raised an eyebrow. “You like the whiskey?”

Something told her if she lied to Polly, even about such a little thing, the consequences would be dire. “Actually…no, not really,” she set aside the glass on a nearby table. Polly chuckled, taking a drag from her cigarette, and looking up at the portrait hanging above the fireplace.

Mrs. Shelby followed her gaze, throat growing dry at the sight of the redhead who’d spent nearly the entire week tormenting her.

“I never really liked her,” Polly said after a moment. “But I do admit, she was useful. Invaluable, even,” she sighed. “We all learned that part the hard way.”

“Who…” she stuttered, realizing that as soon as she asked the question, there would be no taking it back. “Who is she?”

“Was she, dear,” Polly corrected. “She’s dead.”

Mrs. Shelby couldn’t say that she was entirely surprised. It explained a lot.

“Her name was Lucy Winters,” Polly continued. “She was Tommy’s assistant.”

Her fingers, clasped around each other, tightened in recognition at the name he’d whispered so reverently into her neck just the night prior. “Did he love her?”

Polly shot her a look. “Yes. Very much. After she died…” she frowned, glancing into the fire crackling in the fireplace. “He went mad with grief. Locked himself away in this house, alone, for months. None of us saw him. The company almost collapsed without him around to run things… “ she shook her head. “And then one day he showed back up at the office and announced he was running for parliament.”

“He won’t talk about her,” she followed Polly’s gaze to the embers in the fire, worrying at her lower lip. “I didn’t even know her name,” she could feel Polly’s eyes boring into her, but she couldn’t offer anything in acknowledgement, too lost in thought about the nightmares that had plagued her the last few nights: opening to her eyes only to be greeted with the sight of Tommy fucking the dead love of his life right there next to her in their bed.

She did not actually believe that they were just dreams anymore. They felt too real, the memories of them lingering too long. And the bruises on her wrists from her last encounter with the monster–Lucy, she supposed she ought to refer to her as–were still dark purple and aching under the sleeves of her dress.

“Dear,” Polly sat up, tapping the ash from her cigarette into the ashtray on the table beside her. “Do you know what a succubus is?”

The question caught her completely off guard. “I…I think I remember them being briefly mentioned in church, but I don’t really remember…”

“A succubus is a female demon. Typically they appear either in dreams or while a man is asleep with the intent to seduce him.”

A chill went down Mrs. Shelby’s spine. “Don’t they kill their victims by draining their souls through…through repeated sexual activity?”

Polly hummed. “More modern interpretations indicate that by repeatedly having sex with a succubus, a bond is formed between her and the man. Once that happens she can’t–or won’t–hurt him. Makes more sense, don’t you think?” Polly shot her a grin, though there was no humor in her eyes. “Succubi need semen to survive. Why kill off a steady supply of the stuff when you could just come back every night for a fresh helping?”

Mrs. Shelby felt herself go stiff.

“I gave you that whole week in Paris to yourselves during your honeymoon. Just about starved myself, actually.”

Oh. Oh, Christ, no…

She thought about the dreams. About the demonic characteristics that had manifested on Lucy’s body over the course of the week: horns and claws and fangs, even a pointed tail…

She thought about the books of necromancy and summoning demons in Tommy’s office, and had to suppress another shiver.

Was…was Tommy trapped in some sort of bond with the demonic manifestation of his deceased lover? Had she tempted him with promises that they could still be together, at least in some way, only to ensnare him in a trap to provide herself with the nourishment she required?

Mrs. Shelby thought she might be sick. He was her husband. Hers. This demon couldn’t have him. Not anymore.

Glancing back at Polly, she felt a rush of hope. Clearly she knew about the demon and the hold that she had on Tommy. She probably had an idea of how she’d been tormenting Mrs. Shelby too. And that meant that maybe she could help her.

“How do you kill one?” she asked.

Polly shot her a mockingly innocent look. “What do you mean?”

The hope in Mrs. Shelby’s chest seized. “Well, you know…”

Polly’s all knowing eyes hardened just a fraction. “In all honesty, I’m not entirely sure. I would imagine it’s incredibly difficult. Nearly impossible, probably, if the man involved with her is a willing and enthusiastic participant in their trysts. He won’t let you.”

There was no question who exactly the ‘he’ was that Polly was referring to.

“But…” she still clung to the tiny sliver of hope, even as it started to shrivel away. “But what if she hurts him?” Mrs. Shelby murmured, shocked at his aunt’s lack of concern over the possibility–no, reality–that her nephew had bonded himself to a monster.

Polly chuckled. “She won’t. Like I said, succubi need their men alive,” she paused to take a long drag from her cigarette, blowing the smoke up towards the ceiling. “And they share a bond.”

There was something that told Mrs. Shelby that last statement was referring to something far more than just the connection forged between a succubus and its mate through intercourse. 

Something deeper. Something that had already been there long before Lucy had died and transformed into a demon of lust. 

Staring at Polly, she waited for her to offer some other type of solution to the problem, but she gave none, just remained sitting there smoking her black cigarette and smiling at her wickedly.

“Why are you telling me all of this?” she whispered. Polly shrugged.

“Just thought it would make interesting conversation, dear.”

Her heart sank, mind feeling like it was going to burst with trying to process so much information at once.

Polly stood, the movement so sudden it made the nerve-wracked Mrs. Shelby jump, shrinking back into her chair. Plucking up the untouched glass of whiskey Mrs. Shelby had left on the table, she held it out to her.

“Come. You should get back to the party. Before you’re missed,” the way she smiled seemed to Mrs. Shelby to be more like the way a tiger bared its teeth before jumping on its prey, and she was struck by the feeling that, no matter how much Polly had disliked Lucy, if she knew anything about her spying business with her father, she probably hated her more.

Polly was probably just trying to scare her. She knew about her spying on Tommy for her father, and she was angry with her. That was all. 

It was what she told herself as she took her whiskey glass from her, trying in vain not to let her hands tremble.

The bruises on her wrists throbbed in disagreement.

But if everything Polly said was true…

She shook her head. It was too terrible to consider. Even if it made everything that had transpired these past couple of days make a whole hell of a lot more sense.

She passed through the rest of the party in a daze, her head swimming with everything Polly had told her.

What the fuck was she going to do? What could she do? She didn’t even know what was the truth and what was a lie. What was real and what wasn’t. Dream or reality.

If Tommy really was carrying out an affair with a sex demon that also happened to be his deceased lover…there were so many things to consider. She couldn’t possibly just up and leave, could she? Tommy was still her husband…

“Did you really think that he was actually yours at all?”

She flinched at the memory of the words.

Staring at Tommy from across the long dining room as he conversed with Arthur, smiling politely to his older brother with a glass of whiskey clutched in his hand, she felt her heart tighten in her chest. 

Could that man, the man she’d started to fall in love with, really have tethered his soul to a demon for all eternity?

She was struck by the fact that she did not know the answer. The best she could come up with was a solid maybe.

She did know him at all. He hadn’t even been willing to tell her the name of the woman he had loved.

Loves, she corrected herself. At least if it was all true; Lucy was far from gone.

Jealousy, hot and nearly blinding, ignited in her veins. It wasn’t fucking fair. The woman was dead. Why did she still get to stake a claim over him? Tommy was her husband, not Lucy’s.

Going to get herself another drink, she tilted her chin up pridefully at the portrait of the redhead that looked down at her from where it was hanging over the shelf of alcohol.

Lucy couldn’t have actually been that important to him. He’d never even married her.

Straightening her back, she set her jaw. Demon or no demon, Tommy had made vows to her. He had married her. Not that whore of hell. Lucy could go fuck herself. Find someone else’s semen to gorge herself on. Tonight, if she came, Mrs. Shelby would tell her. Put her foot down. Enough was enough.

And then she and Tommy would talk, honestly, about the business that transpired regarding her father. Come to some kind of understanding and agreement. She would apologize, of course, just like she would expect him to. And then they could move on from it and forward. Together.

This marriage would be a success. She would make sure of it.

With that decision made, she felt better, able to actually relax and somewhat enjoy the remaining hours of the party. By the time everyone had left to go home, she was so tired all she wanted to do was curl up in bed and sleep for the next week.

Stretching out beneath the covers, she closed her eyes, sleep claiming her almost instantly. A new surge of confidence had encompassed her, and for the first time in nearly a week she was not fearful of what she would be faced with as she drifted off.

Who knows, maybe it would all finally be over, without the stress of the party weighing heavily over her head.

For a while, she slept a dreamless sleep.

And then she was roused, slowly, by the steady rocking of the bed.

Rolling over onto her side, she opened her eyes lazily. Even though she was ready for it, her heart still flew up into her throat at the sight that met her on the other side of the bed.

Tommy was sitting up, Lucy on his lap, straddling him. Her red hair was mussed around her horns, wings half unfurled at her back, dark red tail coiled on the pristine white sheets behind her. She was gripping his shoulders for stability as she rode him, bouncing up and down on his cock at a steady pace, red lips parted and eyes closed in pleasure.

Tommy was groaning, his arms around her, palm splaying across her back in the space between her wings, face dropping into her neck, pressing soft kisses there.

“Lucy,” he whispered, in the same worshiping, tender voice he’d mumbled it with the night before. His voice stuttered with a sound of pleasure when Lucy grinded down on him, raising his head to kiss her sloppily, hips bucking up to meet hers, bed rocking with their combined movements. When they broke the kiss, he dropped his face back into her shoulder.

“I love you more than anything,” he said, running his nose up and down her skin in a tender nuzzle.

Lucy made a small whining noise, head resting on Tommy’s shoulder, lips tracing along the shell of his ear.

“I love you too,” she said, and Mrs. Shelby could tell that she meant it. They both did. There was something entangled and twisted between them that would never be able to be broken.

Lucy turned her head, resting it more firmly and affectionately on Tommy’s shoulder, still riding him steadily. Her face pointed towards Mrs. Shelby, and then her eyes opened.

She was met with not the dark green eyes from the portrait, but instead two crimson orbs, the black pupils slitted like those of a cat. The succubus didn’t say a word, just making eye contact with her while she continued to make love to her husband.

Any conviction within Mrs. Shelby died. There was nothing she could do. If she tried to tell the succubus to leave, she would probably just laugh in her face.

And if she told Tommy he had to choose between the two of them, there was no question as to which one of them he was going to pick.

Feeling tears prick at her eyes, she tore her gaze away from the demon’s. Perhaps this was what she deserved. After all, she had betrayed him too, with her spying and the letters she’d sent to her father, even if Tommy had been playing her the entire time.

She slid quietly from the bed, moving about to pack a bag of her necessities. Tommy and Lucy did not cease their movements, not even when she looked over her shoulder at them once and found them sitting with their foreheads pressed together, staring into each other’s eyes. She wondered how Tommy could look into those crimson irises without balking.

They turned both their gazes onto hers, and she hastily looked away, continuing to shove clothes into her bag even as she felt them still watching her.

Maybe they would come after her. Or maybe not. Either way, she couldn’t stay here any longer, watching her husband love another woman.

Walking to Tommy’s bedside table, she forced herself to meet his unapologetic icy eyes, Lucy still in his lap, his hips thrusting up, fucking her shamelessly as he stared at her. Stealing what little remained of her resolve, Mrs. Shelby wriggled her wedding bands free from her left hand.

They dropped with a resounding, final clink onto the bedside table.

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[aneurinallday]

The Grey Man

Chapter 5: Time

For the remainder of the day and the entirety of the night, Holford slept or at least pretended to sleep. Resting, recovering his strength, and biding his time. He was in pain, but by now he’d ascertained that there was no serious injury - no broken bones, just surface damage to his face which would heal by itself, given time. It looked ugly, but it could’ve been much worse.

Occasionally Tommy would enter and speak to him, but Holford wouldn’t respond in any meaningful manner, feigning a complete mental and physical exhaustion - making the road to recovery look longer than it actually was. Sometimes, when his eyes were closed, he would feel a warm hand touching his forehead and neck, checking his temperature and pulse. He was surprised that such a gentle touch could belong to Thomas Shelby.

By the next morning, the doctor’s face was awash with dark bruises - a mottled patchwork of purple. His left eye was blacked and almost swollen shut, and the split in his lower lip had painfully scabbed over. He winced and groaned as he sat up, his limbs stiff and ribs sore.

As if on cue, Tommy entered.

“Finally awake?” he said as he drew back the curtains. Sunlight streamed into the wagon and revealed the severity of Holford’s bruises. If Tommy was taken aback, his face betrayed nothing. “Alright, let’s take a look at you.”

He grasped Holford’s face and turned it towards the light, examining his burgeoning contusions and bleeding lip. Red bruises had already formed. At first, he gripped Holford’s jaw firmly, as if anticipating that he would try to squirm away. But when the doctor offered no resistance, Tommy’s touch softened. He cupped Holford’s cheek gently.

“Anything feel broken?”

“I don’t…think so.”

“Not this?” With a forefinger, Tommy lightly tapped on the bridge of Holford’s nose.

“No.”

“Good.” Tommy let go.

Holford looked up at him. His green eyes were plaintive.

“Will he come back?” he asked.

“My brother? No. He’s not coming back”

“Why did you protect me from him?”

“Because he was killing you.”

“But aren’t you going to kill me?”

“I haven’t decided yet.”

“When will you decide?”

“Enough questions,” said Tommy.

He pulled out his water flask and made Holford drink. The doctor gulped gratefully, trying to wash away the coppery taste of his own blood lingering in his mouth. He wondered if this was an apology. Maybe Tommy felt some level of remorse over how he’d handled things, and this was his way of atoning for it. Or maybe water was just water, and there was no meaning behind it.

Tommy waited patiently until he was finished drinking, then put the empty flask away. A droplet or two of moisture clung to Holford’s dry, chapped lips. Holford swayed. Tommy grasped his shoulder to keep him steady. As if without thinking, Holford turned his head and placed a gentle kiss on the hand where it rested.

“Thank you,” he whispered. But then he grasped Tommy’s hand and kissed it again, more forcefully. Tommy was caught off-guard by the gesture, unsure if it meant affection or pure supplication. “Please,” said Holford, dispelling any illusion that it was an affectionate gesture. “Let me go. You don’t want me dead, I know you don’t.”

“Oh, I don’t?”

“No. You saved me. You saved me from your brother, from death. That must have meant something. If you wanted me dead, you would’ve let him finish his work.”

Tommy jerked his hand away.

“I stopped him for his own sake, not yours. I didn’t want him to have more blood on his conscience.”

“Please. You can still take me home, Tommy. Or you don’t even have to take me - just drop me off somewhere. I’ll walk, I’ll find my own way back. I know that somewhere inside, you feel something for me, some bond. I’m not a stranger whose life means nothing to you - I’m your doctor, I looked after you for three years. Three years you came to my office, I came to your house, I saw your children grow. I saw you grieve your daughter’s passing.”

“Don’t mention my daughter. And don’t fucking call me ‘Tommy’.”

Holford’s hands dithered in the air in front of him, as if he were resisting the urge to clasp them in prayer.

“Listen, all I want is to go home. I don’t care what I have to do - tell me what you want me to do.”

“I don’t want anything from you.”

Without warning, Holford slid onto his knees on the rug-covered floor of the wagon. Kneeling at Tommy’s feet, just as he had back in the courtyard.

“What the fuck are you doing?” Tommy snapped. “Get up.”

“There has to be something.” Holford tried to smile at him, but it was a pained smile. A desperate smile. “We can work it out together.”

Whether intentionally or not, the implication of fellatio hung in the air between them. Tommy didn’t want to believe that Holford would resort to making such an offer, but at the same time, he knew the doctor was too clever to plant the idea by accident.

“I’ve had enough of this," Tommy muttered.

“Please. Just let me go. I just want to go home.”

But Tommy left, and from that moment on, refused to speak further.

A week passed in the same silent limbo. Tommy brought him water and food every day - crackers, tinned sardines, corned beef - but no longer entertained his attempts to start a conversation, ignoring all of his efforts to bond. Instead of lingering in the wagon to watch Holford drink his tea, he now spent all of his time outside by the fire.

Holford had over-played his hand, and crossed a line in the process. The opportunity to make Tommy lower his guard had passed, and now Tommy’s walls were higher than ever.

The silence was unbearable for Holford; every hour of aimless waiting was agony. There was nowhere for him to go - nothing for him to do but sleep, re-read his one book over and over, and think about escape. He watched in the mirror as the swelling subsided and his bruises turned from a dark bluish-purple to a sickly greenish-yellow.

When he stared at his reflection, he despised everything he saw. He was starting to smell and he hated it. He’d never gone more than a day without a hot bath, and he yearned to sink naked into steaming hot water. He felt an ache of homesickness as he remembered his own bathroom - the cool tiles, the fragrance of soap, the green wallpaper with its familiar pattern of palm trees and exotic animals. Far removed from the claustrophobic darkness of this Gypsy caravan.

“Calm,” he often whispered to himself. “Be calm. Impatience won’t serve you.”

One morning he awoke with an overwhelming sense of urgency. It was the twelfth day of his captivity - he knew that much. Twelve days and still no rescue had come. The more time passed, the more his hope of rescue diminished, and the more his desperation grew. Time was running out. He couldn’t just sit around and wait for Tommy to kill him. If he was going to act, he had to act now.

Unbeknownst to him, Tommy was also suffering from the silence. He was fed up with the doctor’s pleading and grovelling, his clever and treacherous tongue; even the sound of his soft voice had become grating as he tried to weasel his way out of justice. Tommy hated him. But at the same time, he felt increasingly guilty for prolonging his misery, for denying him the basic comfort of conversation.

Every day, he could see the doctor’s spirit sinking lower and lower, his hopes growing weaker and weaker, his pale face becoming more stark. Tommy had thought that he would find satisfaction in watching Holford’s deterioration, but instead it left a bitter taste in his mouth. He felt certain that the doctor deserved to suffer, but he was no longer what degree of suffering was justified. How far was too far? How long was too long?

Desperate for a respite, Tommy walked briskly to the nearby stream for a much-needed bath. He swam in the cold water, listened to the reeds and the insects. For a while, he simply lay in the grass, drying himself in the sun, feeling the warmth and air on his face. Trying to forget about Doctor Holford, and the dilemma of what to do with him - a dilemma which grew more urgent with every passing day.

If Thomas Shelby had learned anything in recent years, it was that he couldn’t run from the consequences of his actions. That had never felt truer than now, as he struggled to decide whether his prisoner should live or die - something which he’d never thought would require a second thought, but which now seemed an impossible impasse. The longer he kept Holford alive, the more pitiable Holford became in his eyes, and the harder it became to stomach killing him. No matter the awful things he’d done, he was still a person who was suffering, and Tommy was the direct cause of that suffering.

“I should’ve got it over with,” Tommy muttered.

Back in the courtyard, he’d had his moment to pull the trigger, but he’d missed his chance. Now, pulling it wouldn’t be an act of vengeance, but of cruelty.

“Fuck.”

Rising heavily to his feet, he sighed, put his clothes back on, and trudged back to the wagon. Back to Holford and his ever-present aura of death.

As he approached, he heard Holford dry-heaving inside. Great. What now? He entered to find Holford lying on the bunk, propped up on one elbow, his head hanging over the edge. He was groaning with discomfort.

“What’s the matter?” Tommy demanded.

“I don’t - I don’t feel - ” Holford was taking deep breaths to quell his nausea. His fingers curled in the blanket, drawing it closer for comfort.

“Tell me the matter.”

“It - it hurts. Here.” With a shaking hand, Holford indicated his stomach, hidden behind his white shirt. “It’s s-swollen up. I think he tore s-something.”

Shit, Tommy thought. The last thing he needed was for Holford to have internal bleeding. He would have no choice but to either take him to a hospital or watch him slowly die, unable to help. For fuck’s sake, Arthur.

It occurred to him that Holford might be faking it - he’d shown no sign of severe pain until now - but Tommy knew that a damaged spleen didn’t always rupture immediately. It could take hours, days, or even weeks for the injured tissue to finally split. Holford’s claim was plausible.

The doctor retched again.

“Alright, let me take a look. Sit up. Come on, sit up.”

Tommy helped him upright. As he did so, he saw that Holford had dropped his book on the floor, where it was in danger of being trodden underfoot. Instinctively, he bent down to pick it up.

Without warning, a solid blow landed on the side of his skull. Holford had struck him with a hard object. As Tommy stumbled to the side, he glimpsed something - a noose, a ligament - flash through the air as it descended over its head. He didn’t have time to take a breath before it jerked tight around his neck, and he was tackled to the floorboards with Holford’s full weight on top of him, the cap falling from his head.

The struggle was violent but short. Both of Tommy’s hands went instantly to his neck, trying to squeeze his fingertips in between the cord and his throat. He recognised it as one of the tasselled cords that held back the curtains. He twisted his body around, elbows slamming into Holford’s ribs and stomach, trying to dislodge him. Trying to suck in air. But Holford was stronger than expected, and had taken him by surprise. Holford retaliated clumsily, his inexperienced fist thumping against Tommy’s head and shoulders.

Wrestling with the curtain-cord, Tommy was able to gain a little space around his windpipe, and managed to snatch a half-breath. But it wasn’t enough. He was losing control - his body had begun to move of its own accord, limbs jerking, lungs straining for oxygen. Keeping his left hand on the cord, he reached with his right hand for the pistol holstered under his coat, but couldn’t reach it.

Holford strangled him inexorably. Black and white spots were exploding across his vision, darkness creeping in at the edges. And then - and then…

Chapter 6: Gone

[lillylvjy]

917 words. nearly a thousand but I'm very tired and wanted to get this finished tonight. Unedited and a little rushed at the end, but the ghost!wilbur drabble (borderline fic at this point) is finally done.

Something was bothering Wilbur, and it had to do with you. Now, he didn’t know exactly what it was that was itching at the back of his mind, but something told him it definitely had to do with you.

You, gods, perfect fucking you. With your pretty hair and pretty eyes. With your gorgeous voice and a laugh that had his heart catching in his throat. And your smile. Gods above, your fucking smile.

Truthfully, everything about you drove him insane. But there was something different now, something off, and it was starting to grate at the ghost’s nerves the slightest bit. Maybe it had to do with the purple bags underneath your eyes that seemed to be growing every time you came back from work. Maybe it had to do with how your pupils seemed the slightest bit unfocused, your reaction times just a few seconds off from a lack of sleep (once again caused by work). Maybe it had to do with the way you kept obscuring that pretty little smile with your hand, driving him up the wall because fucking damn it why couldn’t you just let yourself be happy? Why did you have to hide something so pretty, something that made his heart fucking melt? Why did you–

Okay, maybe he had a bit of an idea of what was bothering him now.

He had noticed your.. thing with your smile a while ago, but hadn’t commented on it before now. It bothered him quite a bit, apparently. More than even he had thought it would. Something about you ever even thinking that a feature of yours was anything less than absolutely stunning was killing him from the inside out.

So, it was safe to say that the next time you had fallen back to that particular bad habit, he didn’t let you get away with it so easily. That night had been normal so far, or, normal for that week. You were still exhausted (something about your hours being upped after a coworker got sick or something), but you still refused to let Wilbur cook, as per usual. Tommy had opted out tonight, still too caught up with the video game you had bought him a little while ago.

The ghostly man was leaning against the island of the kitchen, ranting away about something or other that he wasn’t even paying attention to. It was easy to be like that around you, just saying whatever was on his mind. Gods know how many times you had been subjected to one of his rants on some random piece of media, or- god forbid, one of his tangents on anteaters. Currently, though, what he was going on about didn’t matter. No, what mattered was you. Stirring away at whatever was in the pot on the stove, occasionally glancing over to make a small quip or just looking at him for the sake of looking at him. Then, of course, was when he finally saw it again. The same damn thing that was pissing him off so much.

You huffed out a small laugh at one of his better comments. The second your lips had twitched up, though, your free hand had come up to cover your mouth and obscure your smile. He hadn’t even thought about it for a second before he stepped forward, reaching up to curl a hand around your wrist and gently move it away from your face.

“Nuh uh, sweetheart,” he tsked, “no covering that pretty little smile. I want to be able to enjoy the view, thank you very much.”

It was safe to say that he was internally preening at the way your face went red. “I-” it took you a moment to compose yourself, your sleep-deprived mind processing his action and his words belatedly. “I wasn’t–”

“Yes, you were,” the ghost crooned, still keeping his usual teasing facade. “C’mon, darling, you should know better to try and lie to me. You’re usually smarter than this, honey, what has gotten into you lately? Lying and trying to hide your pretty little face from me.”

Truly, what had you been thinking? Trying to lie to him, of all people. How silly of you, to think you could ever get away with that. Your blush had only worsened at his words, and he took that as his cue to worsen it, unfortunately for you. With the hand he had around your wrist, Wilbur tugged you forward slightly, leaning down to press his forehead against yours.

“Well?” He urged, a sly smile tugging at his lips. It was a lovely sight, to see you positively melting at his words– his actions. “Gonna answer me, love?” That answer was a no, considering the way you only ducked your head in response. The ghost only chuckled lowly, letting you get away with it for now. Softly, he pressed a kiss to the crook of your neck, relishing at the feeling of your skin against his lips.

“Shut up,” was your only response, of which only had him laughing at your lovely reactions even more. Truly, it was a blessing to be the one to get you like this. All blushing and embarrassed, just for him to see.

“Aw,” he cooed, “you’re not going to get out of this that easily, darling. After all, I’ve got to make sure you learn your lesson.” Oh, and you would learn alright. If he got his way, you’d know better than to hide that pretty smile again.

woo boy, that was. a Lot.

-tattoo anon

Oml- I- I don’t think I can add anything if I wanted. This is- fucking beautiful.

I’m so obsessed with the idea of Wilbur being in love with your smile and urging you to let him see it bc of how much he loves it. And it’s just so heartwarming and gets you flustered all the time. Ugh! I NEED HIM LIKE I NEED TEA! ITS BAD -

[luckiestduck]

“Hats are in style this spring,” Quackity lies. More like everyone in this apartment building has something wrong with them, but Tommy’s clearly going through enough without Quackity wringing him out to dry. Even buzzing down the worst of it won’t get rid of the red marks where— honest to fucking god, it looks like he took an actual razor blade to his scalp. Quackity was going to have to congratulate Purpled on managing to pull one over so hard on Tommy (not that it was particularly hard, mind.)

The first drag of the razor, he took through the largest tuff of remaining hair, right on the side of his head, slowly working in. Quackity could only be grateful that the toilet was nowhere near the mirror; he was fighting back laughter, and he might actually feel a little bad if Tommy saw the look on his face right now. “You should have Tubbo come on over too, while I’ve got the razor warmed up. Better yet, just shave him in his sleep. He’ll be thanking you in the morning, probably.”

Alright. Maybe fix was a bit of a stretch. But Tommy lights up, stands to his full height from that uncomfortable crouch he was in, and Quackity figures, what the hell, right? He can do his damndest. Might just end up shaving the motherfucker bald, but from what he can see Tommy's head isn't that weirdly shaped, and if he's worried about 'getting bitches'- well. A little lie here or there about shaving it for solidarity with a friend who has cancer or some shit will at least make him seem less insane.

Quackity doubts Tommy will be getting any real bitches, anyways. "Could stick some glue on the bald patches, let you crawl around under the bed. I haven't vacuumed in a while so the dust bunnies might help cover it up." Quackity grins, reaching into the cabinet, pulling out an electric razor. "Fix is a pretty strong fucking word, but I can make it look like less of a hack job, if you want. I'll let you borrow a hat either way: up to you."

[purpledanti]

apparently ctommy said he misses the old days when clingyduo hung out with cpurpled.... like the time when cpurpled tried to murder him for $10 or the time cpurpled chased him around for two hours before murdering him or the time cpurpled murdered him and tubbo or the other time cpurpled murdered him at the red festival or yeah you get my point i think

[kreativewritin444]

again / j.m

summary: what happens when you and jj see each other after the breakup?

authors note: hello loves!! lil sum while im finishing my two new chapters of “strangers” aswell as “teacher” tommy shelby stories. alsooooo the new chapter of jj and rafe story. ive been rlly busy with working two jobs but i stg ts coming :)

warnings: mention of pain/injury, drinks and pot, cursin

 things ended with you and jj a few weeks ago, the drama not really going anywhere. you were civil and hated when people knew your business, besides the pogues no one knew you and jj broke up.

 yet you still always saw your friends, avoiding jj by remembering his schedule by heart. tonight you had the two girls in your room, the three of you getting ready for tonight’s party.

 it’s been a minute since everyone was on a golden goose chase, literally. so tonight was getting fucked up and being happy. your hair had soft braids flowing with your wavy locks, light makeup on.

 dressed in a pretty soft purple and white romper, you smile at the two girls as the shot glasses clink together. you threw back the liquor, the small burn makes your head shake.

 “i want another one.” you push your glass towards kie who held it, sarah agreeing as kie rolls her eyes.

 “another round!” she pours herself another one as we down them, the liquor not burning this time. you check your phone seeing the time was 8:07, grabbing your bag beside your feet.

 you stuff some of the mini liquor shot bottles you bought, along with the bag of weed stuff you had inside. “sarah put our main stuff in your bag and kie put the big bottles in your bag, i got the other stuff in mine.”

 kie decides to drive, not really planning on getting wasted. unlike me who plans for a good time. the drive to the house wasn’t long, the host was some kook who’s parents weren’t home.

 the lights and cars everywhere gave the house away, kie parks a street down allowing us time to smoke a bowl as we walk. “so y/n...” sarah trails off your eyes flicker away from the bowl to her.

 “you gonna flirt with anyone tonight?” you knew what she was getting at but you didn’t care. you didn’t know if you were ready to get back out there and you weren’t gonna rush.

 handing her the pipe and lighter exhaling, “nah, imma just have fun.” kie claps at that, you throwing her a wink. sarah clears the bowl handing it back, you stuff it in your bag.

 walking through the front door, music blaring through the house along with many teens overtook your senses. you three link hands steering through the crowd to get to the kitchen.

 pope was leaning against the sink talking to someone about something, “pope!“ we scream rushing towards him, a sigh of relief took over him.

“there you guys are, where the hell have you been (loca)?” kie smiles pulling out a bottle.

 “preparing.”

 you dig in your bag grabbing a few mini bottles for everyone, opening yours cheering with the others. you knew if pope was here john b and jj were too, but you tried to ignore that thought.

 nothing was gonna happen anyways, its not like your gonna demand to leave or something. you had to face him, the situation, everything and stop being so scared.

 finishing the mini bottle throwing it in the nearby trash, john b and jj round the corner. you and jj’s eyes immediately connecting, looking away quickly you grab a red solo cup. taking the bottle from kie and pouring out a huge amount into the cup.

 “hey guys!” you finally look up bringing the cup to your lips, taking a harsh gulp. you didn’t even glance in his way only smiling towards john b, before you take a seat on one of the barstools.

 “im gonna roll us a blunt.” you mutter to no one in particular, just wanting to keep yourself focused on something other than feeling his eyes bore into your skull.

 “i’ll roll a joint too.” he mutters making your eyes flicker up towards him now, he wasn’t looking at you only pulling his weed and papers out his back pocket. you wish he was rolling this blunt like he used too, instead you down another gulp finishing grinding the weed down.

 sarah hands the rillo back to you, the habit of her breaking it down for you never missed. emptying the weed into the blunt you without even thinking pass the grinder too jj, only then noticing your actions when he takes it not even paying attention.

 fingers touching causes his eyes to connect with yours, instead of saying anything you clear your throat. going back to rolling the blunt, the group got quiet for a second making your eyes lift to see theirs. on the two of you.

 you roll your eyes, “oh shutup.”

the group goes back to normal, engorged in stories as you finally finish the blunt. jj finished already but he was just a fast roller, you stuff the grinder in your bag.

 you all went out towards the back, seeing people swimming smoking or chilling. sitting at the outside table you search for a lighter, “i cant find my lighter.”

 without a beat jj hands you one, eyes now once back on his you smile this time. “thanks.” he nods in response, you lit the blunt inhaling the smoke. you hand him his lighter back taking a few hits before you pass it to kie who sat to your left. jj was on your right john b then sarah, pope was on the other side of kie. the only one not smoking, something about keeping a signal clear. idk

 it’s like out of routine and instinct that over a few weeks you two haven’t seen each other, yet you two manage to sit beside each other. kie was already making faces towards you as sarah only sat smirking, leaving you in distress.

 you take a few more gulps of the liquor, leaning back in the seat. the sun was barely up and the breeze was soft, making the air perfect. summer was your favorite time, no rules no expectations, just fun.

 what you didn’t notice was jj studying you, watching how much you drank, the way you moved, everything. his mind racking full of thoughts. hating the way you two ended things.

 the blunt was passed back but you noticed jj never hit it, you hold it beside you to him. he takes it handing over his joint to you, a soft smile over took you but ignoring the feeling you hit it.

 everything got louder, the alcohol definitely taking affect now. the girls and you start singing along to the song, giggles escaping you as you hit the blunt. “yes!” you squeal as sarah fakes twerk.

 just as you pass the blunt to kie, someone comes running outside. “Cops!” your eyes widen, everyone getting up. your hands clasp around your bag, picking the cup up you finish the rest with a few gulps.

 everyone started taking off, you following behind when you get bumped into falling straight on your ass. “kie!” you scream for help, surrounded by anxious teens.

 a step on your ankle made you scream out in pain, jj’s head whips back seeing you on the floor with a kid standing on you. “hey!” he moves back towards you, shoving the kid back. “get the fuck off her.”

 he leans down, “you okay baby?” you shaking your head, lips quivering.

 “my foot, jay. it hurts.” he nods pulling you up in his arms bridal style. he heads a opposite way of the others, going out a side door and away from the flashing lights and sirens.

 “can you walk?” he ask making you nod, he places you down when your foot shoots in hot pain. “ow ow.” whimpering out holding onto jj’s arm for support.

 “fuck, look i got the van keys. it’s down the street, stay here and i’ll be right back.” you two were looking into each others eyes, you having silent tears flowing down your cheeks.

 “you promise?” biting your lip to hide the shakiness in your voice. his body stiffened slightly before just pulling you off your feet. confusion took over, holding on to his shoulders.

 “what are you doing?” your voice soft almost hesitant to even speak, your eyes trained on his face. his eyes cast down towards yours before looking back up.

 “im not leaving you to wait, ill just carry you.”

this was all too confusing, “my bag. do i have my bag?” he nods showing you it around his arm, allowing you some relief.

 the van finally in view, jj setting you down beside the passenger door. helping you in your seat before walking around getting in. you shine your phone flash light on your foot, seeing it swelling with purple bruising.

“fuck.” you mutter reaching in your bag, pulling out a mini bottle. you quickly open it before chugging it.

 “when did you start drinking so much?” jj’s voice broke the silence, him not even turning the van on yet. your head whips towards him, “i just got trampled and probably broke my foot, and your worried about my drinking?”

 he rolls his eyes, “you know that’s not what i meant.”

 you mimic him, “i dont know what you mean anymore, jj. you’re too fucking confusing.” you take another bottle out but jj reaches over and snatches it.

 “will you just chill out?” you glare at him. “give it back.”

he glares back, you two now having a stare down. you were the first to break, “okay im done with this.” leaning back in the seat in exhaustion, mind swirling.

 “well im not, what’s going on with you?” the question sent you into a frenzy, anger now coursing through you.

 “whats going on with me? we broke up! you were my best friend and i’ve been feeling fucking crazy these last few weeks, you wont get off on my mind. i was supposed to come here have fun and forget about you! but of course not, now im alone in this van with you after you’ve called me baby and shit!”

 inhaling a deep breathe panic slowly rising through you at the realization of what you just said. you look towards him horrified but instead of the same reaction, jj’s hand cup your jaw pulling you forward.

 the two of your lips crash together, hands clasping onto him. “im sorry.” he mutters pulling away. rubbing your cheek with his thumb, “i promise i wont leave again.”

 you lean forward kissing him back, before pulling away “i love you, jay.”

you two felt back at peace, lips connecting again in a hungry way. missing the other deeply.

[missymurphy1985]

One Shot Smut Challenge Part One

Jealousy Gets You Everything - Cillian Murphy X Fem!Reader One Shot

Warning - jealousy / breeding kink / toys / BDSM

Taglist @queenshelby @margoo0 @being-worthy @peakyscillian @peakyciills @janelongxox @elenavampire21 @ysmmsy @cloudofdisney @lauren-raines-x @misscarolineshelby @screemqueen @peaky-cillian @misselsbells06 @datewithgianni @heidimoreton @jardinsecos @bitchwhytho @gypsy-girl-08 @queenofkings1212 @look-at-the-soul @emznelly @shelbygurl

"Will you please tell me what's wrong?" Cillian begged, watching you sit at the kitchen table tracing your finger over the rim of your full wine glass. You couldn't stomach it. You couldn't stomach anything after what you'd just seen.

He'd warned you. Of course he'd warned you. He always told you about his sex scenes. But you weren't prepared for the level of feelings it ignited in you when you saw it.

The way she choked him.

The lust in his eyes.

The power she had over him.

Married for three years, together for almost seven, add a 2 year old daughter into the mix - sex had become more of a quick fumble in the dark (at your insistence) once a week if you were lucky. He was either working, or you were exhausted from chasing 2 year old Lily around the house.

As for looking at you the way he looked at her in that scene... Although you knew it was Tommy and not Cillian, his face still looked the same. He used to look at you like that...

"Y/n? Talk to me, please?"

You burst into tears. Gut wrenching sobs from the pit of your stomach. He was on his knees in front of you in seconds, pulling you into a warm embrace that felt safe. Secure. But fuck, you wanted more than that!

So you took a deep breath, swallowed a massive glug of the wine... And told him. Feeling a weight off you shoulders as the words left your lips.

"I see..." He blinked, before a smirk stretched over his lips.

"Why are you smiling? This isn't funny?" You choked, feeling a level of embarrassment you'd never felt before.

"No. You're right. And I'm not laughing am I?"

"You're mocking me."

"I'm neglecting you."

"What?"

"Oh my sweet little y/n..." He bit his lip and took your hand. Pulling you onto your feet, he led you down the hall and up the stairs. The look in his eyes was sending shivers down your spine and you weren't sure if that was a good thing or not...

He led you into your bedroom, before pushing you onto the bed. You fell back with a gasp and tried to sit up, but he shook his head.

"Stay right there. I'll be right back. Do. Not. Move."

You lay there for what felt like hours but was probably no more than five minutes. The wetness between your legs and the deep throb you felt in your clit was almost too much to bear.

"My needy girl needs to be taught a lesson, don't you think?" He was back in the room suddenly holding a box. A box you brought with you when you moved into this house after you married but forgot you had.

"A lesson?" His body moved to cover you, his nose circling yours. His hair tickling your face.

"Jealousy gets you everything," he growled, giving you his best Tommy Shelby voice that made your pussy clench. You leaned up to capture his lips in yours but he pulled away with a deep chuckle.

"No baby, tonight you follow my instructions. All of them. Understood?"

"Yes..."

"Yes what?"

"Yes sir," you bit your lip and watched him reach into the box, pulling out a black plug with a diamante base. Followed by a purple dildo and a bottle of lubricant. Each one placed on the bed beside you. One more reach in and he paused, a sly grin on his face and an eyebrow raised in the air before he pulled out the black and red paddle.

The box discarded across the room, he patted the paddle against his hand and beckoned you up with his finger. He backed away as you stood, and cast his eyes over you.

"Strip."

"Cill..."

"The lights stay on. Strip." The look in his eyes was both menacing and erotic - you couldn't refuse him, even though your insecurities were screaming at you.

Taking your dress down your body, you felt his eyes devouring you. Watching as you peeled your bra and panties off, standing before him completely bare as you followed his next set of instructions.

"On the bed."

"On your hands and knees."

"Ass in the air."

"Fuck baby, already wet for me?" He groaned, tracing a single finger through your folds. You felt the heat pooling in your abdomen, trying to ignore the fact that your body must look horrific in this position... After a c section two years ago, you certainly weren't the size ten you were when you married...

Suddenly his lips were at your ear.

"Your safe word is Lemonade... You say it, I stop immediately, no questions asked," he whispered, tenderly. You nodded, before flinching at the feeling of the cold paddle sliding against your bare ass.

"Jealousy is a sin, is it not?"

"Yes sir..."

"What do we do to sinners?"

"We punish them.. sir..."

One hard smack against your ass had you crying out in both shock and ecstacy. Another followed, a little harder. Each one in succession slightly firmer than the last. Occasionally you felt him press his erection against your thigh and you felt your core throb with anticipation.

"You're fucking dripping, y/n," he groaned, sliding the hard edge of the paddle between your soaked pussy lips, gently scraping your swollen clit, making your body flinch and a deep moan leave your chest.

"Ass in the air," he ordered, and your body complied in earnest. You heard the lubricant bottle open, and a few moments later the plug was teasingly tickled over your exposed ass cheeks and lower back.

"Fuck... Cillian, please..."

"Shh baby, relax, I'll take care of you don't worry," he whispered, before you felt the hard point of the plug pash slowly past your almost virginal again hole - he'd not explored here since before your daughter was born, the thrill of him being there again was almost too much and you swore you nearly came as it pushed past the barrier.

A deep, almost-satisfied groan came from deep within you as it buried deep.

"My beautiful girl stuffed to the hilt..." Another smack of the paddle near the exposed diamante had you clutching the bed sheets, and you heard a 'click' sound behind you. Turning round, you saw him with his phone out taking a photo.

"Something to keep me going when I'm away," he winked, taking photos of different angles, making sure to capture the red paddle marks on your ass and the glint of the plug. He dipped two fingers inside your needy pussy, snapping more photos as he slowly withdrew his fingers.

"You're so fucking delicious, you know that?" He smirked, licking his fingers clean.

"Please Cill...." Your legs were shaking from the sheer desperation - you had never felt so turned on in your life.

"My little slut wants to cum?"

"Please... Baby.."

"What?"

"Sir, please... Sir..."

Another smack of the paddle and you were practically whimpering now.

"Are you calling me baby, or are you asking me for one?"

Your head turned to look at him, his eyes full of not lust, but unadulterated passion and pure fire.

"Answer my question," he pushed, dipping two fingers deep into you and over your swollen clit.

"Asking... Baby... Do it..."

"Want me to put a baby in this tight little womb of yours? Maybe that'll teach you..."

"Teach me?" Your voice had never been this shaky. Neither had your legs...

He leaned closer to your ear, his fingers pressing over your clit now as your knees nearly gave way.

"That there's only one woman in the world perfect enough to carry my children," he whispered in your ear and your body reacted with a blinding orgasm. Your knees buckled underneath you as your body shook and a cry of ecstacy loud enough to wake the dead left your throat.

"Good girl, had to get you ready to take me, didn't I?" He chuckled watching you come completely undone, writhing on the bed from his fingers overstimulating you.

He turned you over and stripped his clothes quickly. The sight of his hard length rigid and firm against his abdomen.

"Sit up, open your mouth." Once again your body complied automatically. Sitting at eye level with his hard cock, you opened your mouth. He fisted his length a few times before sliding the tip over your open lips, gliding it between them with ease. Gripping your hair, eyes locked with yours, you felt it slowly edge to the back of your throat as you fought against your gag reflex. Tears in your eyes, your mascara definitely leaving a trail, he looked down at you and grinned as he almost bottomed out.

"My pretty girl likes my cock down her throat, doesn't she?" He gasped as he began to move his hips, fucking your mouth.

The moans from deep within your chest were almost enough to send him over the edge, so he pulled out and lay you flat on your back, your thighs pinned to your chest by his strong hand as he took the large vibrator and turned it on. Another hand suddenly pulled a set of handcuffs from next to him, how you missed those you'd never know, but they were quickly attached to your wrists, looped through the headboard.

"They call this the mating press.. you know why?" He slid the vibrator through your pulsing walls and watched your head fly back. As your mouth opened, he stuffed your mouth with your panties to muffle the sound.

"Now you can't say your safe word, so you're going to have to think of something else. But based on how close to another orgasm you are, I don't think you need to, do you?"

You shook your head quickly, the vibrator sending stars into your vision.

He pulled the vibrator out and kneeled in front of you, his cock sliding easily through your folds as he filled you, bottoming out in seconds.

"They call this the mating press, because it's perfect for fucking a baby into you.. that what you want my little lady? My seed inside you so deep, making your belly grow with my baby inside it?"

You nodded furiously, his words were like tiny electric shocks through your entire system.

Three hard slams deep inside you made you cry out, biting down on your own panties as he continued his assault on your pussy, fucking you harder than you could remember him ever doing.

"So fucking tight, I'm gonna fucking ruin you," he panted, his hips pistoning in and out of you, the plug pushing his cock higher, angling it perfectly to hit that sweet spot only he'd ever managed to find.

His fingers under your thighs, pinching your nipples and tweaking them. Gripping the flesh of your breast as he fucked you mercilessly.

"Can.. feel.. you clenching me..." He gasped between thrusts.

You were chanting his name, muffled by the gag, as your body started to quiver.

"Good girl, cum on my cock and daddy will fuck a baby into you tonight, cum for me..."

Your juices flowed from you like a river as you came, and he fucked you through it, not letting up the pace of his hard thrusts.

"Oh fuck... That's it, that's my girl, yes... Oh fuck yes..." His eyes locked on yours as his cock erupted deep inside you, painting your walls white with his hot release.

He paused for a few minutes, making sure his cock fully emptied inside you, your walls squeezing him dry. Slowly he eased out, and unfolded you. Untying your hands, smirking slightly at the red marks the cuffs had left on your wrists. He removed the gag, and the plug carefully, watching his seed leak from you, pushing it back in with his fingers.

"Come here baby," he lifted you up and carried your aching body to the armchair in the corner of the room. Sitting you on it gently, he went to the ensuite bathroom and you heard hot water running into your spa bath.

"Cillian..." He came back moments later and knelt down, stroking your face gently.

"You're the most beautiful woman in the world, you know that?"

Your eyes met his, full of love and desire, full of that intensity you'd missed so much.

"You were perfect when we met. You were more perfect when I married you. Then somehow you got even more perfect - carrying our baby. The strongest woman I know, the most amazing mother and wife I could have dreamed of."

Tears were in your eyes as he spoke to you.

"Let's get you cleaned up, then we rest. I'll call my mum in the morning, I'm sure she'll take Lily for another night..."

"Why another night?"

"Because you and I aren't leaving this house until I've fucked you in every room inside it."

[exiled-tommy-rp]

As dawn rose, Tommy got up sluggishly and stepped outside. He yawned and picked up a pickaxe. He killed a nearby zombie and went down to the mines. At about noon, he came back up with a bit more iron and coal.

He looked around, catching sight of a demon with a hood building a giant present. He immediately started shouting.

“Why is he here?! What the fuck?!” He continued swearing and approached the demon with a sword in hand.

The demon looked back at him and then continued to build as Tommy stared in stunned silence.

“Hello?!” Tommy said.

“Hello!” The demon replied.

“Why are you here?” Tommy shouted and saw the progress made on Logsted, “Logsted!- How long have you been here?! I’m disorientated!”

“I wanted to say hi! I heard you got exiled!” The demon responded.

The demon, named Badboyhalo, and Tommy looked around Logsted, taking in the house and tent.

The two hung out for a bit, Tommy rambling about how alone he was.

“What’s this music disc?” Tommy asked, looking at it.

“Chirp. I thought you’d like it.” Badboyhalo looked over.

“Never heard it.” Tommy quickly made a jukebox and placed the disc in. He sat down in the large present Bad had made.

“This song reminds me of death. Like space. Like a female astronaut.” He said plainly.

“I’m not sure how u feel about taking your pity things- oh, this is the nice part.” Tommy paused, listening to the disc. Tommy eventually accepted Bad’s gifts, despite fussing about them being “pity things”. Tommy tucked the disc into his chest proudly. Then Dream showed up.

Dream prompted him to throw something on the ground, and Tommy threw some red concrete. Tommy handed Bad Chirp quickly and whispered to him to run. Dream got Tommy to throw his armor in the hole after an axe hit. Tommy swore at him as Sapnap arrived. Tommy proceeded to mine, with Dream, Sapnap, and Bad essentially following him. They made casual conversation, with Tommy making digs at Dream about exile and his lack of things. After getting sizeable bit of iron, they went back to the surface. Ghostbur was in the small Logsted house, and they continued to joke around with Tommy while he put together a tent.

“We have a tent, Tommy.”

“I want to be able to look at the sunset. It’s very important to me.” Tommy continued sewing his tent, and also put a bell on the Prime Log. Tommy prayed quickly and then got to actually putting up the tent. It didn’t look the best, but Tommy did put in a wood floor. He put a sign on it, dubbing it “Tnret”.

Tommy continued mining, eventually finding diamonds and obsidian. He got back up to the surface and went into Ghostbur’s little building in the campsite. Ghostbur placed a poor quality photo of New L’Manberg on the wall, and gave Tommy the copy of How To Sex 2. They read a little bit of it, and wrapped up the tent. After some more mining, they went back to the nether. They made their way to portal to the main area. Tommy stared at Dream as Sapnap went through the portal and generally messed with Tommy by talking about how beautiful home is.

“Can I go see the Christmas tree? I wanna have Christmas with my friends.” Tommy stared into the purple of the portal.

“No, you can’t Tommy.” Dream and Ghostbur went through the portal as Tommy walked to the path above the lava.

Tommy stared down, the orange hues reflecting off his face. He looked back at the portal as Dream shoved him away from the edge.

“It’s not your time to die yet.”

“It’s never my time to die.” Tommy quietly retraced his steps back to his own portal. When they got back to Logsted, Ghostbur handed Tommy a Polaroid of Sapnap on top of the Christmas tree. After a bit of time, The three left and Tommy went to the Prime Log to pray. He went to sleep in his tent quietly.

someone gets to go to tommys past thru a portal ig

As your muse was doing whatever, a portal lined with red opened. On the other side stood a younger and non-raccoon hybrid Tommy, a boy with brown hair, ram ears and a large facial scar in a presidential outfit, a fox, a man in a blue jumpsuit and beanie, and Dream in full netherite.

Tubbo and Dream spoke as Tommy looked around. As Dream talked about Tubbo being the best leader and how he was confident that Tubbo would make the right decision for L’Manberg, Tommy stared at them.

Tubbo laughed dryly. “You know, this is funny actually. It is! I’m sorry, Tommy. I’m sorry.”

Tommy chuckled as well, the stress leaving his face. “It is funny.”

“Tommy I’m so sorry. I’m sorry.”

“Tubbo?”

“Dream, I’ve come to a decision. The best thing for the nation would be for Tommy to be exiled.”

Tommy stared as the fox and blue jumpsuit man shouted and argued with Tubbo. Tubbo explained the logicality of his choice as Tommy sputtered. The other two continued to argue, saying that they had discussed this. “Tubbo, what the- Tubbo, why?”

“That’s enough! That’s enough, okay?!” Tubbo shouted, “Be quiet! You’ve undermined my authority from the get-go! From the beginning, no one here has respected me!” Tubbo ranted, continuing on.

Tommy shouted, “We agreed on this! What the hell!”

“I’m doing what’s best for this nation. Your presence is not best for this nation.” Tubbo responded.

“Dream, please escort and detain Tommy out of my country.” Tubbo said plainly. The three shared similar disappointment and upset remarks as Dream shoved Tommy off the wall they were standing on.

“Let’s go.”

“Tommy, you are hereby exiled.” Tubbo looked down at him. Tommy stared back up and scoffed, saying Tubbo’s name.

Dream led Tommy away, to Tommy’s protest. Dream pushed him off the path.

“Well im only exiled from L’Manberg.” Tommy looked at the walls as rain began to fall.

“No, you’re exiled from everywhere that’s been touched.” Dream almost chuckled. The two walked, with occasional bouts of conversation. Ghostbur joined them, clearly not understanding the gravity of the situation. The three boarded a boat. They boated until they reached an island. The three continued on land, Tommy complaining about his primes and Ghostbur agreeing that Dream wasn’t very nice.

Tommy yelled at Dream when Dream said he couldn’t go back. They boarded another boat and continued to sail. The permanence of the situation set in for Tommy.

They arrived to an island and walked through the plains. Dream dug a small hole.

“Put them in the hole.”

“No, they’re my things!” Tommy shouted.

“Put them in or I kill you.”

Dream hit him with his axe, and Tommy quickly threw all of his stuff in the hole.

“Fuck you. Leave. I don’t want your pity steak.” Tommy shouted at Dream, “I don’t want your pity things!”

“Okay, well, I’ll see you never.” Dream said and left.

“We’re gonna have a great time!” Ghostbur lowered his voice, “Tommy I think we just got robbed. A rocky start to our vacation but it’s gonna be fine.”

//anyone, of course. This will be a neat character study. @boba-bae-cafe-su-au @grian-rp @ghostinnit-rp idk uh anyone yeah yeah (also tags are ooc I didn’t mention that)

[ur-fav-alien]

Bruises

Just a small Harringrove fic of Billy standing up for his boyfriend mentions of fighting + brusies

Steve got in Billy’s car with a huff. No amount of loud music, or tobacco smoke, or strong alcohol could make his day better. He had a shitty morning and an even shitter afternoon, and all he wanted was to spend his day relaxing with his boyfriend. But he was still pretty pissed about his day and decided to take it out on Billy. 

Billy said nothing when Steve slammed the Camaro door shut and pressed his whole body into the door. He stared for a second, but respected that Steve was pissed and obviously didn’t want to talk. But Billy couldn’t ignore the red and purple spot on the side of Steve’s face near his right eye. 

“So, are we going to talk about it?” He spoke up for the first time since they had started this car ride to the park. 

“Talk about what?” Steve was acting oblivious, and it was painfully obvious. 

“The bruise, dumbass!” Billy said. He didn’t appreciate it when Steve was acting oblivious. Yeah, sometimes he was a cute-oblivious, but right now he was just trying to avoid something. 

“It’s nothing!” He snapped back. 

“It doesn’t seem like nothing. It seems like someone hit you!” 

“And so what? I can take care of myself.” Steve curled deeper into himself and closer to the car door, like he was preparing to jump out. “I don’t need you worrying about me.” 

A bunch of answers ran through Billy’s head. The first thing was Steve’s dad. Billy knew how his own dad was, but the only thing about Mr. Harrington that he heard from Steve was that he was a Grad-A Asshole. Maybe that bruise was from his dad, maybe Steve did something and Mr. Harrington viewed that as wrong and delivered the punishment… Billy knew that from experience. 

“Was it your dad?” Billy whispered. 

“What?” Steve looked at him this time. The bruise was more visible on his face, a yellow and red color with hints of purple around his right eye and cheek. Whoever had hit him had hit him good and hard. Billy would’ve been impressed if this wasn’t his boyfriend. “No, no,” Steve quickly turned back around. “It wasn’t my dad. It was just some… asshole kids…”

“The ones that you babysit? How in the world could-” 

“No! God It’s- fuck…” Steve ran a hand through his hair. “It’s… It was fucking Tommy H. and Carol.” His body slumped as he finally sat correctly in the seat. 

“Those assholes? Why the fuck are they messing with you?” Billy didn’t like Tommy H. anyway, he was annoying and always had Billy’s side like a stupid fucking dog. It really got on his nerves sometimes. Yes, he appreciated a good yes-man every now and again, but when it was constant 24/7, it was just irritating. 

“I don’t know! They have it out for me since I ditched them for being rude to Nancy.” Steve crossed his arms. “I was at my job and they started being rude to my friend Robin, you know her, so I told them to fucking cut it out and Tommy just punched me for no good reason.” 

Billy shook his head and his hands tightened on his steering wheel. He couldn’t believe that Tommy of all people sucker punched his boyfriend. You don’t do that Billy Hargrove’s boyfriend. “I never liked them, anyway. Both are total airheads.” 

Steve let out a soft laugh, and Billy’s heart fluttered at the sight of the man’s pretty smile. 

Steve was hanging out at the pool with Robin and the kids. They had been hanging out for an hour or 2, doing nothing. While that could get boring sometimes, Billy watching over them in nothing but red swim trunks was always a pleasant sight to see.

He was on a floating pool mat and letting the sun rays tan his body (hopefully like Billy’s), when he heard the annoying and irritating sound of: 

“Oh, my god!” Carol gawked. “There’s so many losers here. I thought you said this pool was fucking empty.” 

“Yeah, how was I supposed to know a fucking spaz would be here.” 

Steve opened one of his eyes and saw Tommy H. and Carol looking directly at him with smug looks on their faces. Steve rolled his eyes and rolled off the man into the pool. He hated getting his hair wet, but if it meant those two cunts leaving him alone, then who cares? 

In the corner of his eye, when he popped up out of the water, he could see Billy already making his way over to the entrance of the pool where Tommy and Carol were standing. Steve watched with fascination as Billy leaned in to talk to the couple. He swam up to the edge of the pool to listen in on his boyfriend’s conversation with the assholes. 

“Hey guys, what are you doing here?” Billy asked. 

Carol looked at him as if he was dumb. “Uh… not sure if you’re blind. We’re at the pool. We’re gonna hang out at the pool.” 

Billy hummed. His hands were on his waist like some sassy mother. “Right, right, well, you guys can’t be here.” 

“What!?” they both exclaimed. “Why the fuck not?” Tommy asked. 

“I’ve been hearing… complaints about un-family-friendly bodily fluids in the pool.” Tommy and Carol’s faces both went red as Steve’s jaw dropped. “And now I should ask you if you guys are blind because this isn’t some orgy party, this is a fucking pool. So I’m kindly asking you to leave.” 

“Look, just ‘cause there’s been some complaints doesn’t mean we’re banned from the pool.” Tommy argued. 

“I will ban you from the pool if you proceed to not listen to me, like you’re doing right now.” 

“Dude just-” Tommy pushed Billy’s shoulder to move past him, but almost like a natural response, Billy kneed Tommy H. in his groin. Tommy yelled in pain and fell to the floor while Carol began screaming at Billy for hurting her boyfriend, but Billy could care less and smacked her in the face with the back of his right hand. 

Almost everyone in the pool gasped. “Holy shit!” Dustin screamed. “He hit a girl!” 

Billy turned to everyone staring at him in the pool and waved them off to continue their normal business of having fun in the pool. Some pool manager came out and helped escort Tommy and Carol out while Billy went back to his lifeguarding station. He made serious eye contact with Steve that made his swim trunks feel tight even while in the water. 

It didn’t matter that Billy was Steve’s first boyfriend; he was going to be the best one Steve ever got.

[dreamcatcherrs]

what catches their eyes/attracts them?; mcyt x reader

+ this is in no way factual information, only my very weird and specific opinions :)

dream:

free-spirited people

someone who isn't afraid to speak their mind

confidence, to a certain extent

someone he can be loud with

someone who will wake up in the middle of the night with him to go on a car drive to nowhere

the colour blue (dnf👀)

clean and fresh-looking clothes

satin fabric

big height difference

the smell of citrus fruits

large smiles

silver jewellery

small hands

smart people who aren't afraid to show it

george:

calm, laid back people

someone quiet, but still able to have a laugh

very friendly vibes - even when first meeting them

the colour blue (literally the only interesting colour he's able to see lol)

bright eyes

lip gloss

flower print

slightly shy people who are actually easy to interact with once you start a conversation with them

pastel-coloured nails, not too long

pink-tinted lips

ponytails

the smell of vanilla

puppy eyes

sapnap:

energetic people

someone who can hype up their friends no matter the situation

the colour red

like, a bloody red

soft skin

full lips

loose shirts over skin-tight tops

when shoelaces have a different colour on each shoe

corsets

a very subtle scent of perfume

thigh highs

someone who just wants to enjoy life with the people they're surrounded by

badboyhalo:

large, bright smiles that spread up to your eyes

freckles

button noses

rose-gold jewellery

french manicures

bangs

slightly shy people

genuinely sweet people

not the fake type that talks shit about people behind their backs and then will compliment them a few seconds after

someone who when they enter a room feels like a breath of fresh air to everyone else

someone completely selfless

the smell of lavender

shiny hair

technoblade:

people who aren't afraid to take the lead

glasses

intellectual people

like, for example people who know a lot of random stuff from a bunch of different things that they're interested in

or also just book smart people

slightly clumsy people (finds it cute)

gold jewellery

someone with some mystery to them

refreshing scents, like clean laundry or shampoo

cat eyes (eyeliner)

wilbur soot:

long legs

chokers

shy people

someone who gets flustered easily

glasses + thin bangs

the colours brown and beige together

baggy, comfy clothes

the smell of newly baked cookies

beanies

the kind of person that makes him feel like he can always talk to them - someone he can feel safe with

birth marks

accents

jschlatt:

smart people

the way they speak is just so clean without even noticing

fox eyes

people who aren't afraid to wear sweatpants in public

generally just someone who isn't afraid to do, say and wear whatever they want

someone who stands for what they think and have the balls to say it when needed

nose rings

simple yet flattering pieces of jewellery

long nails

someone who he can stay up all night with and never get tired of them

high heels

hip dips

corpse husband:

fishnets, of course

someone who give 0 fucks about what everyone else thinks of them

unique people

wether that be physical features or straight up the personality, it draws him in

chokers

chunky, black sneakers or boots

someone who can make him happy without even trying

a positive aura for the most part

as in he doesn't want to be surrounded by someone who’s negative or dragging everyone else down with them

the colour yellow

rings - lots of them

karl jacobs:

a walking ray of sunshine, basically

tbh, karl has a couple of things in common with what corpse is attracted to;

positive energy, uniqueness and rings

a palette filled with bright colours

like, almost rave style colours

that could be clothes, makeup, hair, nails, accessories

chunky, white shoes

selfless people

someone who as each day goes by becomes more charming to him

he likes the smell of candles from bath and body works, as we all know

the colour purple

skeppy:

big eyes

someone who’s able to make him laugh without even trying

tooth gaps

someone who has very playful, innocent vibes to them

and someone who can take jokes and pranks

people who walk confidently

the smell of strawberries

long eyelashes

someone who collects things others usually wouldn’t

someone who is very respectful to others

a mix between really comfy clothes and really feminine clothes

fundy:

someone who comes across as “different” than others

and don't you dare think of ✨I’m not like other girls✨ (I know you did -_-)

he just thinks people who think and act very different than others are very interesting

beauty marks

nicely shaped eyebrows

someone who finds mystical things interesting

fox eyeliner (yes, I put this in here because: furry)

someone who has unusual, yet surprisingly good taste in music

people who are constantly warm

red lips

the colour light brown, almost beige-like

quackity:

someone who gets his humour

someone like him, but more quiet and slightly shy

especially when on screen in front of an audience

sliver necklaces

the smell of flowers

dark, extreme eyeliner

loose clothes

freckles

piercings

someone who teases others and who can handle to be teased by others

the colour dark blue

punz:

the colour grey

a fresh fashion sense

yet still very comfortable fits

messy buns

someone who he just knows will be a cool person before he even talks to them

someone who just has that kinda vibe, y’know?

glossy lips

independent people

someone responsible and caring to others

tattoos

navel piercings

awesamdude:

cropped jackets

the colour neon green

hair put up in a bun

someone with a free nature

someone who is a complete wild card

like, someone who will jump over a fence just to get closer to a bunny they think they saw on the other side of it

loose strands of hair

clear nail polish

cargo pants

the smell of chocolate

slimecicle:

people who have comfort items

someone who knows random facts that no one else usually knows

people who have a unique way of thinking

passionate people

and when they talk about what they’re passionate about, they talk for hours

shorter hair

sweet and nutty scents

natural beauty

fluffy hair

honest people

but not brutally honest

the smell of coconut

eret:

eye glitter/shimmer

silky clothes that shine in the moonlight

platform boots/heels

long, flowy dresses

someone who does whatever they want

and who doesn't like being told what to do by others

the colours pink and dark purple

the smell of the ocean

someone who already knows how to live their life

stretch marks

foolish:

low-cut jeans

someone very silly who knows how to have a good laugh

someone very supportive of their friends

curtain bangs

long-sleeved sweatshirts

someone who loves food

puppy eyes

straight, white teeth

someone who is willing to help others in need

someone who doesn't talk badly about others behind their back

someone who knows what they want

jack manifold:

confidence

white, wide-legged pants

the colour light blue or just pure white

people who are very easy-going and fun to be around

someone who can fit into and understand anyones humour

an open-minded person who likes to hear from other people’s point of views when they have a different opinion than them

butterfly patterns

crop tops

oversized t-shirts

hair beads

tommy:

people who are just as loud as him

and at the same time knows when to be serious

the colours yellow and grey

people who are kind to everyone

creative eyeliner

fluffy hair

people who can get so lost in their own world, they almost forget about their surroundings

colourful accessories

someone who isn't afraid to be who they are

someone who has many passions and loves to talk about them

oversized hoodies

tubbo:

hoodies layered over skirts or dresses

frilly socks

people who are very adventurous, and wants to make their life as interesting as possible!

someone who can help him overcome some of his fears

charm bracelets

cute habits

the colours yellow and orange

dimples

the smell of almond milk and honey

people who twirl their hair unknowingly when bored or unfocused

ranboo:

someone who looks intimidating at first (he thinks people like that are cool as fuck)

but then is, like, the sweetest person he’s ever met

loves someone who can speak fluent sarcasm, just like him

he likes sass

glassy skin

fingerless gloves

people who act cocky for the fun of it

but actually don’t care about winning or losing or proving anything

simplistic earring placements

people who have hidden talents, and the more you get to know them, the more talents are revealed

people who don't gossip

____________________________________

tag list✰

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[queenshelby]

The Concubine - Part Four

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x Reader

Warning: Angst, Very Graphic Violence, Domestic Violence, Abuse, Blood

Words: 1,589

Shortly after you left Tommy’s house, Tommy grabbed the telephone and enquired with the directory about where the call was made from.

He had an uneasy feeling about your fiancé, almost like a vision of some sort and, after he found out your fiancé’s address and where the call was made from, Tommy instructed Arthur and Isiah to keep an eye on you and your fiancé and intervene if necessary.

He knew that there were things you were hiding from him, things he didn’t know about you and he never dared to question you about any of it until he overheard how your fiancé spoke to you.

Now, he was suspicious and, for him, it was surprising that you willingly stayed with a man like that. A man who was using abusive language towards you and treated you badly, a man who cheated on you and who had nothing to offer.

***

That same morning, when you arrived at your fiancé’s apartment, he had gone.

There was no note, no nothing and you decided to wait for him patiently.

At around 7 o’clock in the evening, he finally barged through the door and saw you sitting inside the loungeroom with the curtains closed and the fireplace lit.

‘See how it feels having to wait around Sweetheart?’ Steven said sarcastically as he threw his gun onto the loungeroom table and took off his jacket.

‘I am sorry Steven. I had to work’ you explained and Steven was quick to grab your throat with one of his hands, pushing you back against the lounge firmly.

‘Working for fucking gypsies, huh?’ he said harshly before continuing on, his breath smelling like booze and cigarettes. ‘My woman chooses to work for someone else instead of servicing me’ he went on to say before ripping off your blouse harshly, causing the buttons to tumble onto the floor.

‘Steven stop, you are hurting me’ you said as you tried to squirm away, but his hold was too strong.

‘No no no Love, you don’t get to tell me to stop. I want to have some fun with you’ Steven then huffed out.

But, as he held you down, it didn’t take long for him to notice the small bruises on your neck and chest and, without any sort of warning, he pulled you up on your hair and threw you against the coffee table.

‘You are fucking someone else aren’t you, you fucking whore?’ he scolded at you as you hit the table, injuring your chest and stomach on the long edge of the oak.

‘Steven stop, please’ you cried as he again pulled you up on your hair, hit you across the face and dragged you into the kitchen.

As you reached the kitchen, he forced you to lean forward against kitchen table and you knew very well what he would do next.

Fearful and in tears, you leaned forward and held onto the table while Steven removed his belt which, almost in an instant, came flying across your back.

‘Stop, please. I am sorry Steve, please stop’ you cried as he hit you again, harder with each stroke.

‘You want to behave like a whore, huh? Yes?’ he scolded as he hit you again and you began to scream.

‘Well, I need to treat you like a fucking whore then’ he yelled again, hitting you even harder and, by that time you lost count of how many strokes he inflicted on your back until, suddenly, you heard someone kick down the front door.

‘Get the fuck off her you fucking animal, eh’ Arthur shouted, pointing the gun at your fiancé.

‘Who the fuck are you?’ Steven then asked, dropping the belt as he did and you immediately fell to the floor, crying and whining as you barely managed to hold onto one of the legs on the kitchen table.

‘I am Arthur fucking Shelby and you are fucking dead, eh’ Arthur said, pulling back the release mechanism on his gun in readiness to shoot.

‘Don’t’ you yelled out quickly and Arthur lowered the gun.

‘His father will kill my family. Please, don’t shoot’ you pleaded and Arthur waived at Isiah and one of the other gang members who walked over towards your fiancé and restrained him.

‘Listen to me you little fuck, eh. She and her family are under the protection of the Peaky Blinders now and you don’t fuck with the Peaky Blinders. You get this message to whoever the fuck your father is and unless he want’s a war with us, he will back off. Do you understand?’ Arthur explained to Steven before he pulled off his cap and cut him across each side of his face.

‘You will regret this’ Steven shouted in between screams from the pain across his face.

‘I think you haven’t been listening boy. My brother’s orders were to kill you if you harm this woman. You are alive right now because of her mercy but, my brother’s orders will stand if you lay a hand on her again or anyone from her family’ Arthur then said before kicking Steven into his crotch and helping you off the floor.

‘Common Love’ Arthur then said as he placed his coat over you carefully and helped you to his car.

Your back was bruised and bleeding and so was your chest and stomach. Your face was slowly turning purple and your cheek began to swell.

‘We will take you to the hospital Love’ he then said as he lay you down onto the backseat.

‘No hospital’ you said, knowing that the hospital staff will ask questions.

‘Tommy’s house it is then, eh’ Arthur said and you nodded quickly before asking about your parents and sisters.

Arthur asked you where they live and decided to send Isiah and one of the other gang members to their house for protection while Tommy decides what was going to happen.

***

After about twenty minutes, you arrived at Tommy’s house and Francis greeted you quickly when she saw Arthur’s car pull up.

As soon as she saw that you were with him and heavily injured, she ran to get Tommy while calling one of Tommy’s trusted doctors to come to the house.

‘Fuck’ Tommy growled as he saw you. You were barely managing to hold onto Arthur’s shoulders.

‘He did this to her Tommy’ Arthur said as Tommy held onto you and helped you inside while you were still crying, barely able to deal with the pain across your back and stomach.

Without losing any time, Tommy and Arthur placed you to lie down on one of the lounges in the reading room while Francis fetched several towels and some water to clean up your wounds.

‘Tommy, I am sorry’ you said, unsure what you were sorry about. Was it the fact that you had just caused him trouble or that you were ruining his expensive sofa?

‘Don’t Love. There is nothing for you to be sorry about, eh’ Tommy said as he helped Francis to clean you up while Arthur gave him a detailed run down of what had happened at the apartment.

‘Oh my god, fuck’ you growled in pain each time Tommy or Francis touched one of your wounds with the cold wet towels and it was at this point that Tommy pulled out a small brown bottle from his jacket.

‘Drink this. It will make the pain go away’ Tommy said but you pushed his hand away and shook your head.

‘No, I can’t’ you said before another scream escaped your lips.

‘Where does it hurt?’ Tommy then asked as he observed you holding on to your stomach.

‘My stomach, it’s so much pain’ you cried.

‘Sit up. It might be better sitting up. The doctor is on her way, eh’ Tommy said reassuringly as he helped you into an upright position but, just as you sat up straight, you suddenly felt a gush of liquid drenching your skirt.

Instinctively, you reached for your lap with your hands before looking down, seeing your hands and skirt covered in bright red blood.

‘Y/N’ you heard Tommy shout loudly and then again more quietly as your mind went fuzzy and dizzy.

‘Call a fucking ambulance’ Tommy then shouted out to Francis, which was the last thing you could recall before everything in your mind went blank.

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Part 10: Red Right Hand

Summary: Grace offers Lucy and Tommy a safe place to hide.

Word Count: 4,861

Warnings: Minor injuries, smut, threesome, polyamory, references to a suicide attempt, and suicidal thoughts.

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Chapter 14: Blinded

Grace watched Campbell walk away, her fingers twisting together. Each time she closed her eyes, she saw Tommy and Lucy’s faces, and when she lay awake at night, all she could think of was the warmth of their gentle touches on her face. 

Guilt gnawed in her belly, twisting it into agonizing knots. She had been practically sick with it, after watching his family verbally tear him to practical shreds following Freddie’s arrest. Especially after seeing how quietly distraught he seemed to be over it all later.

Thank God Lucy believed that he hadn’t been the one to turn Freddie in. Grace didn’t think she could bear to be the reason a schism formed between the two of them. 

But what else was she to do? It was her job. And if Campbell had heard that she’d known Freddie was in town and hadn’t told him, she would have been in heaps of trouble, despite the soft spot he had for her. 

A part of her hated herself for her need to see the mission through. But she also knew that if she didn’t, Campbell wouldn’t stop. This way, with the deal she’d begged him to make–the guns in exchange for Tommy and Lucy’s safety–he would leave the city. The Shelby family would be in the clear. She still hadn’t come up with a way to help regarding Freddie’s imprisonment, but at least most of them would be safe. 

She needed to leave. She knew that. There was no way that she could stay, much as it broke her heart. There was no scenario where she could stay in Birmingham, and carry on her affair with Tommy and Lucy, without it coming to light what she had done. And they would hate her for it. Probably even try to kill her. 

Her bottom lip trembled, and she had to stop walking, stepping to the side of the path and turning to stare at a little pond. Lily pads floated in the clear water, a large green frog seated upon one, and a few orange and white coy, as long as her forearm, swam languidly in its depths. She wrapped her arms around herself, little gasps leaving her lips as she tried hard not to cry.

She loved them. Despite everything; despite her mission and what she’d thought her values were. She wanted to stay with them forever. It didn’t matter if they were all jammed in a tiny shoebox of a place, or if she had to work in a dingy gambling den. She’d live under a fucking bridge with them if she had to. 

But she couldn’t. They would not want her anymore, not after how horrifically she’d betrayed them. It would be best for everyone if she were to leave.

But still she could feel her heart breaking at the very thought. 

She would allow herself a few more days. To say goodbye. And to make sure that Campbell honored his word. Then she would go. 

∗ ∗ ∗ 

Lucy only lost her voice for about a day or so. Tommy continued to hover over her worriedly, constantly checking the dark purple bruises around her throat and bringing her cups of tea, despite her raspy insistence that she was fine.

It really was quite sweet, how much he worried about her. Even if his protectiveness sometimes got out of hand.

“You feeling okay?” he asked, entering their office, tilting her chin up gently so he could examine her throat. The bruises were fading away steadily. Lucy nodded. Satisfied, he dropped her chin. “Think you’d be up for going to the Garrison?”

“Sure,” she immediately jumped up to grab her coat and follow him out the door. Her work was mostly done for the day, and she wanted to check up on Grace. When they stepped into the pub, Grace was standing at the back, hands clasped in front of her, singing as the men in the pub looked on. The way that the light hit her hair made it look like a golden halo around her head.

Tommy leaned against the doorframe to the snug, slipping an arm around Lucy’s shoulders, as they quietly looked on.

When she was done, Grace smiled bashfully at the applause from the other patrons, stepping away and letting another man jump up to sing. 

“Hello,” she smiled as she came up to them. Tommy silently opened the snug door, gesturing with a jerk of his head for her to follow them inside. 

“How’s your head?” he asked once the door was shut and it was just the three of them, his hand reaching out to brush back her hair to check the cut on her forehead. 

“It’s fine,” she looked at Lucy’s throat. “How’s…?” she gestured to her own neck.

“I can actually talk again, so that’s progress,” she still had to keep her voice low to avoid losing it after a while, but the quick improvements were good. 

“Only got some peace and quiet for a single day…” Tommy lamented, chuckling quietly when he dodged the light swat Lucy aimed at him.

Grace giggled at their antics, but Lucy thought she saw something sad behind the happiness in her eyes. 

“Can I get either of you anything? I’m still technically on the clock. Whiskey?”

At Tommy’s nod, she went to the door.

“Tea, for me. With lots of honey,” Lucy requested. Grace nodded, looking back over her shoulder at them, and again, there was that sad look on her face. As if she half expected to never see either of them again.

Lucy frowned, plopping down next to Tommy in the booth and cozying into his side with his arm around her shoulders. But when Grace returned with their drinks, she was all smiles, cheek dimpling with it and eyes laughing as the three of them settled into lighthearted discussion.

Maybe she’d just imagined it. 

∗ ∗ ∗ 

“Miss. Winters?” Finn poked his head into the office. Lucy’s head snapped up in surprise.

“What’s up, kiddo?”

“Do you know where Tommy is?”

“He went to the yard, but he’ll be back soon. Why?”

“There’s something wrong with Danny Owen’s grave.”

Her blood went cold. Oh, fuck. “What do you mean?”

“Someone’s dug it up.”

“Shit,” she stood. “Shit. Okay, come with me,” she grabbed Finn’s hand, leading him out the front door, moving with rushing steps along the usual route to Charlie’s yard. They met Tommy halfway there. He had already been on his way back.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, eyes narrowing at the look on her face.

“Finn, tell him,” she watched the way Tommy’s features twitched and changed as Finn told him about the grave.

“Show me.”

The three of them moved swiftly through the winding road to the cemetery, and then Lucy and Tommy were left to follow with quick movements as Finn weaved between the gravestones. They came to a stop at Danny’s grave, the three of them staring down at it numbly.

Lucy half expected Tommy to shout or rage, but he did neither, just looked down at the overturned earth, shoulders heaving as he sighed. Finally, he knelt down in front of Finn, clasping him by the shoulders.

“There’s gonna be trouble now, Finn. You look after yourself, do you hear me? I’m going to be going away for a while.”

Finn nodded. Tommy patted him on the back of the head.

“Right. Go on.”

Watching as Finn jogged away and out of the graveyard, Lucy rubbed a hand across her face, pacing around the sparse grass. The sun was just beginning to set, throwing bright beams of light across the horizon, leaving an eeriness to the graveyard as it began to chill with the promise of night. “Well…” she turned to look at Tommy.

“Shit,” he finished for her, wiping a hand over his mouth.

“I don’t suppose that there’s any point in hoping that Campbell will just take his win and leave,” she groaned. “I’m coming with you.”

Tommy shot her a fond look. “I know,” he looked down at the turned over grave almost mournfully. Then shook his head. “Goddammit.”

“I wish we could say goodbye to Grace,” Lucy commented mournfully as they left the graveyard. Tommy hesitated.  

“We could, you know.”

She shot him a look. “It’s risky.”

He shrugged. “No more risky than going back to the flat to grab some of our things,” he checked his watch. “We’ve got time. So long as we’re quick about it.”  

When they came in through the back door of the Garrison, Grace and Harry were conversing closely over the bar. Tommy led the way to the backroom, silently indicating for Grace to follow. Once the three of them were shuffled into the little room he closed the door behind them.

“I’m going to have to lie low for a while. Lucy’s coming with me,” he explained the circumstances to Grace. Her eyes were wide and worried. 

“Harry said the police are already in Digbeth.”

“Yeah,” Tommy glanced at Lucy, both of them counting the seconds that they spent there. Perhaps it had been stupid to come say good-bye.

“You took a chance coming here. Why?” Grace looked between her and Tommy. The door suddenly flew open.

“The police are in the lane, Tommy!” Finn shouted, bursting in. For a single, heart-stopping moment, the three of them looked at each other in quiet panic. And then Grace was grabbing them both by the hands.

“Come with me,” she led them out the door of the backroom, across the main area of the pub, through the backdoor, and down the road. It only took Lucy a moment to recognize the route they were taking as the one to Grace’s apartment. 

Her head swiveled anxiously about as they waited for Grace to unlock the door. Already, the sound of police whistles was beginning to echo throughout the streets. Her shoulders relaxed once the door was open and they were all safely inside, Grace leading the way up the stairs. 

“It’s not much of a place,” striking a match, she lit one of the candles, face bashful as she watched Lucy and Tommy look around. Tommy shrugged, closing the door behind him.

“It’s all right.”

Lucy leaned against Tommy languidly, arms wrapping around his middle while he hugged her shoulders. Her head tilted against his chest as they watched Grace bustled about the kitchen, offering them tea.

Lucy giggled and Grace’s lips twitched upwards at Tommy’s jokes, abandoning the stove briefly to check behind the white lace curtains covering her windows. It had started raining since they came in.

She tried to hide her disappointment when Tommy told Grace that they’d leave once the trouble died down. 

“When will it die down, do you think?”

“Late, I would say.”

She pressed her smirk into Tommy’s coat, fingers squeezing around his waist. 

Grace’s lips pulled into a smile, and at the suggestion that they stay until the morning, Tommy blushed, looking down at his shoes, bashful. Lucy couldn’t help her grin then, elbowing him conspiratorially as they watched Grace move about the apartment. 

“You have a gramophone,” Tommy observed. 

“It’s broken,” Grace looked over at him apologetically.

“We could still dance.”

Grace’s eyes lit up with amusement. “What, the three of us?”

“No, Lucy doesn’t dance,” Tommy elbowed her back lightly.

“And your toes thank me for it,” she giggled, untangling herself from him to sit on the edge of the bed. “Besides, I prefer to watch,” she winked at Grace suggestively, beaming when the blonde turned red and stuttered.

“So, what do you say?” Tommy asked, head tilted. Grace nodded, smiling shyly.

“Yes. Why not?”

Lucy’s feet swung back and forth–she was too bloody short for her feet to properly touch the ground when seated on the bed–and her head cocked as she watched Tommy approach Grace, asking her sweetly to dance with him. Grace’s lips pulled upwards in a smile she was clearly trying to fight, nodding. Tommy pulled her close as they began to sway, their foreheads touching. Lucy leaned back on the bed, watching them with eyes that were both soft with affection and hungry with want. They were both so beautiful; Tommy with his sharp jaw and dark hair, Grace with her golden waves and dimpled cheeks.

The heat pooling low in her belly grew as she watched Tommy and Grace kiss. Biting her lip, Lucy’s fingers grasped tightly at the bedspread beneath her, thighs pressing together. Still kissing Grace softly, Tommy reached out a groping hand past Grace, grabbing at the air in Lucy’s general direction. Standing from the bed, she took his hand, letting him pull her forward until her chest was pressed against Grace’s back. Grace moaned softly as the contact, while Lucy’s hands fumbled at Tommy’s suit jacket, tossing it to the floor. Tommy shoved Grace’s sweater from her shoulders, while Lucy began to press kisses to her neck. 

The three of them worked in tandem to rid themselves of each other’s clothes, taking breaks to kiss each other desperately. Down to only their undergarments, Lucy reached around Grace to hook her fingers in Tommy’s boxers, pulling them down and wrapping her fist around his cock firmly, grinning at the way he gasped and bucked forward against Grace. She moaned at the contact, and pushed Tommy to sit down on the bed, straddling his lap. Grabbing her firmly by the waist, Tommy rolled them so that the blonde was lying beneath him on the bed.

“Lucy,” he croaked out, eyes shining conspiratorially as he reached up and pulled her in alongside him. She shot him a knowing smirk; they’d done this enough times to have it all down to practically a science, Tommy busying himself kissing Grace's lips and neck, moving his body to the side, enough to make room for Lucy to slide down, in between her legs. Grace’s breath caught in a moan as Lucy swiped her tongue over her clit, grinning as she pressed her face more firmly into her pussy, lapping hungrily. Her self-satisfied smirk only grew as she added two fingers into the mix, Grace’s moans increasing in volume. Lucy’s breaths caught at the way she clenched hotly around the two digits. Her walls started to flutter and contract, and Lucy knew that she was close.

Glancing up, the sight she was met with was enough to make her own core clench with want; Grace’s head thrown back, mouth open as she moaned. Tommy was palming at one of her breasts greedily while his mouth was busy with the other one. Lucy moaned, and Grace cried out at the vibrations it sent through her core, walls tightening as she started to come. Lucy guided her carefully through it, prolonging the orgasm, waiting until she was sure she was done before she sat up. 

Tangling her fingers in Tommy’s hair, he pulled his head up to Lucy, giving Grace a moment to catch her breath.

“Want to taste her, love?” she asked, and Tommy practically dove for her mouth, kissing her messily, sharing the residue taste of Grace on her lips. Finally breaking away, she found Grace watching them with wide, aroused eyes, her pupils dilated so wide there was only a thin ring of blue surrounding them. Lucy stretched out on her side next to Grace while Tommy climbed over her, Grace immediately turning her head eagerly, kissing Lucy wildly, moaning into her mouth as Tommy thrusted into her.

“Fuck,” Tommy grunted, moving forward so that his chest was pressed flush to Grace’s. Lucy curled tightly into Grace’s side.

“Feels good, doesn’t she?” Lucy asked. Tommy gave a small, experimental thrust and groaned.

“Fuck, yeah.”

“You doing okay, love?” Lucy pressed a few kisses to Grace’s jaw. She nodded, one hand scrabbling at Tommy’s shoulder while the other slid through Lucy’s hair.

“Yes.”

“Good,” their heads were close enough that they were able to take turns kissing each other easily. The bed creaked as Tommy started to thrust, Grace’s thighs hitching around his hips. 

“Lucy, touch yourself,” Tommy ordered, growling as Grace’s fingers pressed against a scar on his shoulder. Nodding, Lucy slipped a hand between her legs, swirling her thumb around her clit before pushing two fingers inside herself, whimpering. Tommy broke his kiss with Grace to look at her, eyes sparkling. “Good girl.”

“Fuck,” she began to ride her hand in earnest, eyes drinking in hungrily the scene before her, Tommy’s hips pumping himself faster into Grace, her moans only increasing in tempo.

Suddenly Tommy sat up, one arm wrapped around each of them, and pulled them both up with him, holding them close. “My girls,” Lucy heard him whisper tenderly, and her heart felt like it was just about to burst in her chest. “My girls, come here,” he was still bouncing Grace in his lap, eyes darting over to check that Lucy was still touching herself, pressing kisses to them both. Burying her head in Tommy’s shoulder, she nipped at the skin until he growled. Grace kissed at the side of her neck, and Lucy sighed blissfully, a hand sliding between Tommy and Grace’s bodies to rub at Grace’s clit. Tommy’s thrusts began to grow harder, and Grace gasped out softly, head tilting back. Lucy felt as the muscles there tensed and relaxed simultaneously as she came. Tommy growled, body shuddering, and buried his head in Grace’s shoulder as his own orgasm washed over him. One arm wrapped around Grace, burying his head in her shoulder, and the other tightening across Lucy’s waist. 

Shoulders lowering as he relaxed fully, Tommy lifted his head, turning it to kiss Lucy, then Grace, before laying Grace back down onto the pillows carefully. He rolled to lay beside her, already snatching at Lucy’s waist, making her laugh as he dragged her into his lap. His chest shuddered when her hand slid down to cup his cock, knowing from experience that he would be good to go again in just a few minutes. Planting open mouth kisses on his chest, every once in a while she turned her head to kiss Grace, who was plastered to Tommy’s side, watching them with flustered cheeks and parted lips.

Tommy’s cock twitched heavily in her hand, throbbing, his hands squeezing at her hips and waist, somewhat manhandling her into position on top of him. Head tipping back, her eyes rolled back into her head as he snapped his hips upwards, sinking himself in her, his cock still soaked with his and Grace’s mixed releases. Lucy’s orgasm was already close from watching them and touching herself earlier, hands grabbing at Tommy’s shoulders for purchase as she started to ride him.

She wasn’t even aware of Grace moving until she was already pressing her chest to her back, kisses brushing delicately across her neck. Angling her head back so that they could kiss, Lucy scratched her nails lightly down Tommy’s chest, feeling him moan. And then one of Grace’s hands was fumbling between her legs, and she cried out as her fingers brushed over her clit, then pressed down, rubbing in little circles, mirroring Lucy’s actions from earlier. Tommy sat up, adjusting the angle of his thrusts, and Lucy nearly sobbed as he pushed even deeper into her.

“There you go,” Tommy leaned over her shoulder to kiss Grace, then rested his lips against her ear. “Such a good girl for us.”

Crying out, babbling incoherently, grabbing at them both like her life depended on it, Lucy came hard enough she was sure that she blacked out for a minute. She was distantly aware of Tommy moaning, cock spasming as he pumped his second load of the night deep into her.

He caught her tight against him as she all but collapsed, letting them both fall back onto the bed with her laying on top of his chest, her body small enough that it was barely a bother, even with her full weight rested on him. With one arm wrapped around her, he looped the other around Grace’s shoulders, who had moved to lay down beside them once more. He pulled her close until her head was tucked against him as well. She reached down to tug the blankets over them. 

For a moment, the room was entirely silent. Tommy was staring up at the ceiling, chest rising and falling beneath Lucy’s head. 

“Are you okay?” Grace asked, craning her head up to squint at Tommy. Though her voice was quiet, it sounded almost as loud as thunder in the otherwise silent room. 

“I don’t hear the shovels against the wall,” Tommy’s voice was very quiet. Lucy raised her head from his chest.

“Really?”  

“What shovels?” Grace asked.

Lucy grinned. Tommy looked down at them, mumbling sweet things to them both as they softly kissed and caressed each other. His and Grace’s hands entwined across Lucy’s back, and she snuggled closer to both of them, knuckles caressing the side of Grace’s face, smiling at the way she leaned into the touch. 

“Us three against the world?” Grace asked, voice soft. Lucy’s lips tilted upwards in a sleepy smile, her eyes growing heavy.

“Something like that,” she mumbled. Tommy kissed the top of her head. Grace’s face turned to press a kiss to her fingertips.

And, warm and wrapped up in love, she fell asleep.

∗ ∗ ∗ 

They kept their word about leaving come morning, though not without a few quick kisses and a promise to meet up with Grace later at the Garrison. Things seemed to have simmered down. When they passed by a few officers on the street, they paid them no mind. 

“I’m hungry. Can we stop for breakfast at the place at the end of the lane before going to work?” Lucy asked, stretching her arms.

“Sure.”

It was a cute little cafe that served coffee and pastries. She often stopped there for a muffin or croissant on her way from her flat to the shop. They sat down at a quaint little table for two outside, Lucy digging her teeth into a chocolate croissant while Tommy smoked. 

“You’re sure you don’t want some?” she asked, gesturing with the croissant. He shook his head kindly.

“I’m sure, love.”

“Alright. But if you faint from a dip in blood sugar don’t expect me to carry you.”

He snorted, nudging her leg with the toe of his shoe under the table.

“Tommy. There you are,” Polly was approaching them, coat pulled around her shoulders. “I’ve been looking all over for you.”

“I was busy dodging Campbell’s men.”

“Where did you go?”

“Grace let me hide out at her flat.”

Polly’s eyes darted between him and Lucy, brow pinching in slight puzzlement, lips pursing. “I see.”

Tommy sighed, clearly eager to abandon the subject. “What did you need?”

“We had…a situation, last night,” she grabbed a chair from an empty table, dragging it over and sitting down. “Arthur took five hundred pounds of the family money to give to your father. He thought that they were going to start a casino together in America. He waited to meet your father at the boxing ring, but he never showed up,” she pulled out one of her clove cigarettes, lighting it.

“Well,” Tommy sighed. “It’s a bit expensive for just a lesson Arthur should have learned ten years ago, but we’ll be alright. We’ll make it back, and I have other money stashed away–”

“Arthur tried to hang himself, Thomas.”

Tommy froze with his mouth half open, brows furrowing. Lucy stopped mid-bite, staring at Polly in quiet horror. 

“The rope snapped, and he’s alright, but…”

“Where is he?”

“The shop. Scudboat and Lovelock are keeping an eye on him. I thought it best not to leave him alone.”

Tommy nodded, twisting his cigarette between two fingers, staring into space for a moment. Lucy slowly set her croissant down. Oh, poor Arthur. She had been admittedly annoyed at him, for letting his father gawk at and harass her, but he didn’t deserve that. And he was always so sensitive… 

She swallowed, thumb rubbing along the ring on her index finger, heart hurting for him. 

“I’ll go speak to him,” Tommy popped his cigarette back between his lips and stood.

“Tommy, please…” Polly began.

“I’m not going to say anything mean, I promise,” he waved away her concerns. “Lucy?”

“I can eat and walk,” she scooped up the remains of her pastry, taking quick bites of it as they headed down the road. 

“Fuck,” she whispered, once they were a ways away from Polly. 

“I know. He should have known better, but…”

“Arthur’s always been desperate for love. From anyone.”

“Yeah.”

Shoving the last of the croissant into her mouth, she chewed slowly, waiting until she swallowed before speaking again. “Have you ever thought about it?”

“About what?”

“Offing yourself.”

His footsteps stuttered, face already betraying his answer before his words did. He cleared his throat, shoving his hands into his pockets. 

“Once or twice.”

“When?”

He didn’t answer right away, lips pursing. Lucy worried suddenly that she’d gone too far. Normally she was good about gaging when it was the right time to ask him sensitive questions. And he always answered her. 

“You don’t have to answer that. I didn’t mean…” she quickly tried to backtrack.

“No, It’s alright,” he sighed. “Once, briefly, after Greta died. A few times while I was in France. And I suppose…a couple times since I’ve been back,” he looked out, over the expanse of the street, slowly starting to awaken as more people shuffled out of their homes to head to work. 

“That’s more than once or twice,” she pointed out. Tommy just shrugged, looking down at the cobblestones. She shuffled closer, looping her arm with his and giving him a tight squeeze, hoping that conveyed everything she wanted to tell him, but couldn’t find the words to. “I’m glad that you didn’t.” 

He gave her a sad, understanding smile and a quick, reassuring kiss to her curls. 

“What about you?”

“A couple times,” she didn’t look at him, instead focusing on picking nonexistent lint from his coat, though she could feel his eyes burning into her. “After my dad came back from France and told me I had to marry Matthew,” even though he had been dead for a very long while, the name still tasted sour in her mouth. “And then after the alley and I dug myself out and Father told me I still had to do it, I thought that if I couldn’t manage to run away, I’d rather be dead than married to that piece of shit.”

Tommy’s hand came up to stroke her arm, giving it a tight squeeze, when she looked up at him, the intensity in his eyes nearly bowled her over. “Luce…”

She shrugged. “It worked out, in the end,” though I could have done with the scars, she added silently. In his eyes, she saw a thousand things that he wanted to tell her. Rubbing her hand along his arm, she rested her cheek against his bicep in silent camaraderie, so that he knew that she’d heard him even though he hadn't actually spoken.   

When they pushed open the door to the shop, it was to find Arthur hunched over shamefully by the fireplace, looking miserable. They shared a glance. Tommy moved to pull aside the collar of Arthur’s shirt and Lucy internally winced at the sight of the bruises around his neck. Tommy settled his hand on Arthur’s shoulder before shucking off his coat and sitting down beside him. Lucy gave Arthur a little pat on the back before slipping away and out of the room to give the brothers some privacy to talk.

Tommy would set him right. He was in a good mood. And a Tommy who was in a good mood gave some of the best, most comforting pep talks in the whole world.

It didn’t take long for him to join her in their office, catching the newspaper she tossed his way.

“How’d it go?”

“Oh, he’ll be fine.”

“Good.”

He sat down in his chair, unfolding the paper, scanning over it with a cigarette dangling from his mouth.

Handsome bastard.

Her chair scraped against the floor as she stood, moving out the office to look over the expanse of the shop. Men were crowding around the tables to place their bets. Polly was fluttering about. Esme and John were posted up by the blackboard in the back. Sunlight was filtering in through the windows, warming the room and casting a pleasant, gold hue. She felt Tommy’s warmth beside her before she was even fully aware of his body moving into her space.

The smile that crossed his face as he looked over his little kingdom could have put the sun to shame. It was so fleeting that they had moments of true, pure happiness. She wished she could have captured that moment and held onto it forever. He took her hand, pulling her with him towards the door, and together, they stepped out into the sunlit streets of Small Heath.  

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