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justathoughtfulangel · 2 years ago

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When the Party's Over ~ A Kai Parker One Shot

*not my gif

Happy Thanksgiving! I hope you get to spend today and all days ahead filled with joy and peace :)

Pairings: vampire!Reader x Heretic!Kai; ex-boyfriend!ElijahMikaelson x Reader; Damon x Elena; Klaus x Caroline

For the purposes of this story, Klaus and Caroline are a couple living together in Mystic Falls. Kol Mikaelson is still alive, but Finn is not.

This IS a reader insert fic; I just don’t like writing with Y/N in the place of names. Use Rosalie/Rose as a placeholder for Y/N and Wilson for L/N

Requested: No

Word Count: 5,562

Warnings/Callouts: Mentions of breakups/heartbreak, minor angst/darker emotions, scattered mature language, fake-relationship trope, best-friends-to-lovers trope, smut (18+ readers only!), soft!Dom!Kai, Daddy kink, blood sharing, unprotected sex (be responsible and safe!)

I got the idea for this piece while re-reading "I'll Wait." It is technically a sequel but will still be easy to follow/read as a oneshot if you haven't read that one.

Description: What do you do get when you put a bunch of vampires together in a room with a lot of food in November? You get a Mystic Falls Thanksgiving. Be wary of Original exes crashing the party...

Kai’s POV:

The alarm buzzed, and I turned over to shut it off. I’d already been awake for quite some time. The morning sunlight danced on the ceiling as I listened to the sound of Rosalie’s even breathing in her room down the hall. Five months ago, Rosalie drank herself numb and passed out in the Mystic Grill. I brought her to my apartment, and we’d been living together ever since. Her old apartment was one she’d shared with Elijah, and it was too painful for her to live there again. I, out of the goodness of my heart (or, more accurately, my own selfish desires), let her move in with me.

Life was a lot easier now; there were no vengeful siblings, no new villains knocking down our doors. For once, life in Mystic Falls was… normal. Shocker, I know.

What exactly defines normal in a town where every second person you walk by is a supernatural being? Normal is waking up in the morning and not anticipating something horrible will happen. It’s when things are calm, and you can trust the people around you. Strange how normal is the most abnormal for someone like me.

My feet touched the cool wooden planks, and half the blanket followed me up. With a quick snap, the bed was made. Coffee was brewing, and bread was toasting. This was the rhythm we had fallen into. Whoever was awake first took care of breakfast, and the other managed the cleanup after.

I didn’t bother throwing a shirt on. Being roommates came with its unique forms of intimacy, though not in the way I would’ve wanted. Nevertheless, I’d promised myself I’d wait. I’ll wait for her until she’s no longer hurting – when she’s ready to accept how I feel.

Rosalie’s POV:

“Rosalie, I have to leave you,” Elijah spoke solemnly. He had rarely loved in all the centuries he’d been alive, and it was even rarer the love was returned. Unfortunately, something always trumped the pursuit of love: his honor and his family.

If anything in this dream came back in perfect detail, it was the wave of emotions I felt. My mind replayed them night after night. First came the confusion and denial. “What does that mean?” Elijah had answered me, but even now, I don’t remember his words. My ears refused the intake of all sound. The heartbreak had taken over. “We… I am leaving you.” It couldn’t be true. He was my everything. He was my first. He swore he’d never leave me, not for the rest of our immortal lives.

Without warning, something in the scene shifted. Suddenly, it wasn’t Elijah turning my heart to dust. It was Malachai. Within me, I felt a snap. My knees gave out, and I stumbled to the ground just as I had with Elijah. The stream of tears down my cheeks was new.

I had not sobbed this way when Elijah left me. This was a new pain entirely. “Kai, please…” He looked down upon my curled figure on the ground, completely silent. When the hot tears blurred my vision, I could just barely see him walking away, leaving me even more broken than I already was.

When the dream escaped me and consciousness came back, I didn’t want to open my eyes. Though I was awake, my mind was plagued with jarring images of Kai leaving me instead of Elijah. Somehow, though I was only his friend, I believed losing Malachai would hurt so much more.

Shoving my comforter aside, I dragged myself to the bathroom. The lightbulbs flickered on, and I stared at my exhausted expression. When Elijah left me, I felt like I’d been discarded. There was no other word for it. Someone who promised to never walk away left for a reason as flimsy as needing to protect his sister – a thousand-year-old vampire perfectly capable of protecting herself. Klaus and Kol didn’t run off to Rebekah’s side, so Elijah volunteered.

The worst part was the "honorable man" card he got to play. How are you supposed to fault someone for leaving to protect their family? It was all so frustrating. From the kitchen, I heard the coffee maker chime and the bread pop out, a signal that my little pity party needed to end. Gathering up some cold water from the running faucet, I splashed it against my face in the vain hope of getting some color back.

When I walked in, Kai was reaching up to grab plates and mugs. Turning around, he gave me a quick smile in morning greeting. I had to return it, of course. During all this time, Malachai was the one that kept me grounded. He’d been so patient – goofy when I needed a laugh and silent when I needed someone to listen. He was the perfect companion. If he was tired of me, it didn’t show.

Still silent, he handed me my plate, bringing his own over to the couch. I plopped down beside Kai, glancing at him from the corner of my eye. A random Netflix show began playing in the background as we ate. Whether he knew it or not, Malachai brought me a great deal of peace.

I looked at him once more, my heart throbbing painfully as it reminded me of the horrid dream. This time, Kai’s eyes met my own with an unspoken question shining in them. He raised a brow slightly, and I shook my head, attempting to smile. He seemed unconvinced, but he didn’t pry.

Thank god for that. If he had, I would have lied.

Kai's POV, later that afternoon:

“Rosalie, hurry up! According to the manically detailed itinerary Caroline gave us, we were supposed to be at the Mikaelson’s place twenty minutes ago.” Even as I spoke, I pulled the caramel apple pie out of the oven, fanning it to get it to cool some. The whole apartment smelled wonderful, like an autumn day come to life. I closed my eyes, enjoying the scent of apples, cinnamon, and toasted sugar.

When they opened, I met with the sight of Rose slipping into her coat. I couldn’t fight my smirk when I saw her outfit. Without planning it, we were completely coordinated: deep green sweaters, dark wash jeans, and long, flowing black coats. I saw the realization in her eyes and adored the sound of her resulting laugh. “Are you trying to copy me, Malachai?” Letting out an exaggerated sigh, I grinned at her. “Me? I’ve been ready to leave for thirty minutes. If anything, you’re trying to copy my style.”

Wrapping up the pie, I grabbed the car keys, spinning them around my finger. “Don’t worry, though. I pull it off much better than you.” Rosalie rolled her eyes, giving me a playful shove. “Let’s go before Caroline decides to murder us on arrival.”

The engine hummed to a stop. The sun had already set, bathing the surrounding land in darkness. When the headlights switched off, Rosalie and I shared a look. I wanted to reach out and touch her silken hair, to let her know she wasn’t alone. I knew tonight would be difficult for her – spending time with Mikaelsons wasn’t her favorite, not with all the memories it brought back –and Rose needed to understand I was there for her. “You can do this. I’m right beside you.” Without giving me any words in response, she reached for my hand and gave it a gentle squeeze of gratitude.

“Let’s go.” We walked to the front door, the dessert in my hands. Rosalie opened the door, thoughtfully left unlocked by the hosts, taking the pie from my hands. Caroline stormed to the foyer, partially receiving her guests as the hostess and also ready to rip us both a new one for messing up her schedule. “Before you say anything Care, you and the house both look lovely.”

Rose gave Caroline a heart-stopping smile and annoyed as she was, her friend had to smile in return. “Alright, alright, just come in.” I helped Rosalie out of her coat, hanging it up on the golden coat hooks before taking care of my own. Everything in this house looked like it was antique and ridiculously expensive. Our matching outfits didn’t escape Caroline’s attention, but she was typing something. Rose’s phone buzzed with a text seconds later.

She read it and froze in her tracks. Caroline took the dessert from her hands and went inside, perhaps to give her a moment. “Rosalie?” Still saying nothing, Rose handed me her phone, letting me read the message myself. ‘I should’ve told you earlier, but Elijah is here.’ I waved a hand, putting a silencing spell on the room so our conversation wouldn’t be heard by anyone else.

“Elijah, like – Elijah?” She nodded, visibly trembling. “Kai, I…” Biting my lip, I took hold of her shoulders, turning her so she’d face me. “What do you want to do? Do you want to get out of here? What do you need? What can I do?” Though she was upset, I couldn’t stop the barrage of questions I threw at her. Rose only shook her head again, which wasn’t enough of a response for me. Thankfully, she spoke without any more questions from me.

“No. We’re here to have a nice Thanksgiving with our friends. He’s here. I suppose it makes sense. He’s Klaus’s brother, after all. Of course, he’s here.” She rambled on. When she looked into my eyes, I could read how conflicted Rose was. My teeth gritted together, and as my hands left her shoulders, they clenched into fists at my side. Being civil with Elijah was going to be an uphill battle, and I hadn’t even set eyes on him yet.

Even so, my anger wasn’t important. Whatever Rosalie needed tonight she would get. “Just… don’t leave my side, Malachai.” I wrapped my arms around her, enveloping her. It didn’t matter if she was just relying on me as her best friend. This hug was for me, the one slip I was allowing myself after months of swallowing emotions back. “I won’t, I promise.”

Pressing a kiss to her forehead, I lifted the silencing spell. Rosalie whispered her quiet thanks, and I didn’t let go of her hand. We just didn’t realize someone was watching.

A man I hadn’t seen before, presumably Elijah, cleared his throat. By instinct, I expected Rose to let go of my hand, but she only held on tighter. Clearing her throat, she walked towards him with me not far behind. “Hello, Elijah.” I was impressed with how she sounded: perfectly composed and unbothered by the man she still had torturous dreams about. “Rosalie. You look good. Happy…”

The word trailed off of Elijah’s lips, hanging in the air between us. “And this is?” She released my hand then, though I could tell she missed the contact as soon as her fingers slipped from mine. Or at least I hoped so. I know I did.

“Malachai Parker, Heretic.” The hand that was in Rose’s met his in greeting. “Elijah Mikaelson.” In stark contrast to hers, Elijah’s hand was ice cold. “You must be her new boyfriend. Congratulations.” The words weren’t spoken with any hint of malice, just resignation. Was it so easy for him to let her go? If it were me and the girl I loved dated was with someone else, I’d be livid. “Elijah, Kai isn–”

“Kai is pleased to meet you.” I smiled at Elijah like he was an old friend, ignoring him once I put my arm around Rose. She caught on very quickly (that’s my girl!) and mirrored my action. One hand came around my waist while the other rested comfortably yet casually on my chest. “Thank you. We’ve been dating for, what, maybe three months now?”

She looked up at me for confirmation, her eyes shining. We’d spent too much time together recently; if the wordless conversations we had daily were any indication, we’d be able to pull this off very well. “Three months and five days.” Within the statement was a veiled truth; we’d been living together for five months and three days.

Elijah looked between us. We just kept looking at each other. For now, I had free reign to look at her the way I wanted, to touch her as if she were mine. I wouldn’t let that go for anything or anyone. I didn’t know what she was thinking, and I wished some part of her wanted me, too.

Presumably uncomfortable, Elijah cleared his throat. “Well, um… it was nice to meet you, Malachai. I think I should take my leave. Niklaus, Kol… I’m heading back to New Orleans tonight.” His brothers rushed into the room, filled with questions. We simply stood and watched the show. With one last glance, Elijah left, and Kol trailed behind him. “Elijah! Sorry, brother. Thanks for the invitation.”

Klaus raised an eyebrow at us, comprehension gleaming in his expression. “And then there were six.” With great reluctance, I let Rosalie go. The act was up.

“Rosalie Wilson!” Caroline’s high-pitched voice echoed through the large foyer. Elena leaned against the doorframe leading to the dining room, also looking equally upset. “You and Kai have been dating for three months and you didn’t tell me?!”

Then again, maybe not.

Rosalie’s POV:

Oh boy. Caroline was pissed. Swallowing nervously, I attempted a cool smile. Linking my arm with Kai’s – who thankfully continued the show with me – I responded, “I know, Care. It’s just that… after my breakup with Elijah, I wanted to take things slowly and just be careful. After being with Kai day in and day out, I knew I wanted to be with him. I didn’t want to risk anything by moving too quickly.” My monologue had come to a close, and Kai finished the script. “We were planning on telling you all tonight anyhow. It just happened to come out in a… not-so-fun way.” Everyone stared at us, all with varying degrees of interest.

Damon was swirling his bourbon around in an ornate glass; he was all set and didn’t care much about anyone except Elena. Elena seemed to have heard and understood where I was coming from. Klaus was playing with Caroline’s hair as he hugged her from behind, perhaps trying to quell her distress. And Malachai…

Kai was staring at me with this pure, unbridled love in his eyes. I thought it would hurt to play the role of a happy girlfriend. In that moment, I found myself believing that if I was with Kai, I wouldn't be hurt again. I had the same thought months ago when I was deeply mourning my breakup. Even then, I’d thought about being with him. For now, even though it was make-believe, I’d cherish it.

“So!” Kai’s voice bounced off the walls. “I don’t know about anyone else, but I’m starving.”

Dinner was wonderful. Caroline was always the perfect hostess, and the food was wonderful. Given that two of the guests had disappeared, there was plenty to go around. Garlic and rosemary mashed potatoes, a gorgeous roast turkey, savory apple and sausage stuffing, orange cranberry sauce, cornbread… we’d all be eating leftovers for a month.

Malachai was even more caring than usual now that he was playing the role of my boyfriend. He made sure I didn’t have to reach for anything I wanted, refilled my water whenever he did his own, and kept some form of physical contact with me sporadically. The only thing missing from this equation was flirting, but this was better. It felt… real. Grounded. As easy as breathing.

Before we played a game or two, I’d excused myself to take a breather. This whole day had been a rollercoaster. With my scarring dream to Elijah showing up to this drama Kai and I were putting on, it had been overwhelming. I leaned against the shut bathroom door, just taking a few deep breaths.

My phone chimed a special tone that rang only when Kai texted me. “Don’t take so long, darling ;)”

My eyes looked upwards from my phone screen to the mirror in front of me. The expression on my face was one I never imagined I’d feel again. It was true, unadulterated joy. For the first time in what seemed like an eternity, my smile reached my eyes. Only Kai could make me feel this way.

Kai's POV:

I slipped my phone back into my pocket, pleased with my playful flirtation. I’d wanted this for a long time; I was going to milk it for all it was worth. Klaus handed me a glass of this warm spiced rum, which I graciously accepted. At least it wasn’t Damon’s bourbon again. Bourbon wasn’t my thing. I was secure enough in my masculinity.

I lounged on the couch, my feet propped up on the glass table. One wince from Caroline, and I straightened up. Rose came back then, and I took a seat on the floor where Elena was setting up Settlers of Catan. She sat down next to me, leaning against my shoulder. The line between friends and something more had always been blurry in our relationship. This made things even more confusing. How much of this was the act? How much was what she truly wanted?

Ultimately, it didn’t matter. Hadn’t I already decided to make the most of this time? I wouldn’t let the idea of losing it ruin what I felt right now. Playing my role – and giving into what I wanted all along – I hugged Rosalie closer to me, resting my head against hers. I handed her the glass of spiced rum, encouraging her to try it. She took a sip, humming thoughtfully. I knew she didn’t truly like rum, but she seemed to like this. Taking full advantage of the opportunity, I kissed her cheek softly. I heard her heartbeat hastened in response; was it from anxiety or excitement?

We played the game with our friends, laughing and enjoying the party. When it became apparent the only possible winners would be Caroline or Elena, we joined their boyfriends in cheering them on. My hand clasped Rosalie’s under the coffee table, linking our fingers together. No one saw our hands there. This was just for us. The night wore on. The more I got to live out my true desire, the more I feared I wouldn’t be able to let it go. I was selfish that way. What would happen when the party’s over?

Rosalie's POV:

It was midnight before we realized it. A full moon climbed up the night sky, visiting its starry friends in the sky. We bid our friends goodnight and headed home. As Kai slipped into the driver’s seat, turning the engine on, I realized I suddenly didn’t know what to say or do.

Malachai seemed to not have any ideas either, and we drove to our apartment in absolute silence. Even our deep understanding of each other wouldn’t help here, not when we were trying to uncover something we didn’t have a name for.

The drive had somehow been both unbearably long and unbelievably quick at the same time. We walked inside side by side, my ears picking up even the clink of the lock as it opened. “So, um… you really saved me tonight. First with him, and then with Caroline.”

Kai grinned at me while taking off his shoes and hanging up our coats. Even in the low lighting of our home, I could tell it wasn’t the same. “I did, didn’t I? That’s what best friends are for.” I don’t know what fantasies my mind had begun spinning. Malachai was just saving my skin. We would tell them all it was an act later. That made sense, I suppose. “Best friends… right.”

“Oh, screw this.” Within fractions of a second, Kai’s hands cupped my face. He looked at me almost severely, his eyes swirling with so many emotions at once. It was an unnavigable storm, and I was nearly lost in it. I would’ve been had he not crushed his lips against mine.

I didn’t freeze, nor was I all that surprised. This was Malachai, and I knew him as I knew myself. I’d wanted him for a long time, I just wouldn’t let myself admit it. Our lips meshed together, sliding between each other’s beautifully. His hands traveled from my face to my neck. Continuing down my sides, Kai finally reached his destination when his palms slipped into the back pockets of my jeans.

“Jump up onto me, baby.” He pulled away to give me his breathless command. I eagerly obliged, wrapping my legs around his waist. Claiming my lips once again, he carried me off to his room. I fell back onto his bed, and Kai followed suit, hovering over me. Raining kisses down my neck, Malachai elicited a moan from me, something that made him stop.

“Rosalie… tell me I’m not alone in craving you. Am I aching for you all alone? Tell me you want me, too.” His eyes were imploring, his voice so quiet it only reached me. I tenderly dragged my hand across his cheek, pressing a kiss to his jaw. “It’s not just you, Kai. I… I never realized how much I needed you. Not until tonight.”

That was all he needed to hear. Enveloping my lips with his once more, his left hand took hold of both my wrists, holding them up above my head. The other trailed down my torso, landing on my waist and sneaking under my sweater. His warmth, his scent, and even the smallest of sounds he made were perfection. When his fingers found the button of my jeans, I froze up under him. Our passionate embrace came to a skidding stop.

“What is it? Did I go too far? I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean–” He rambled with concern, and I cut him off with a soft kiss. “No, it’s not you. You’re perfect. It’s me…” The last person I was with – the only person I’d been with – was Elijah. When he left me, he shattered some hidden part of my soul. If Malachai and I were to cross this line, there would be no turning back. I’d need him forever, and if that wasn’t what he desired, then he shouldn’t waste his time with me. “For me, this isn’t about right now.

“It’s about forever, which means something very different in our world. If that’s too much for you, or if that’s not what you want, I don’t think we should go there… not tonight.” Kai released my hands, and I was staring down at the bedspread. With an unanticipated, gentle gesture, he lifted my chin such that I looked into his eyes. His were certain, unwavering. There seemed to be no doubt at all in his mind as he spoke.

“I love you, Rosalie.” My breath caught in my throat, and I momentarily tensed up. The way I felt for him was consuming, stronger than anything I’d known before. But I’d been hurt at this same crossroads, and I didn’t know if I could travel down that path just yet.

“You don’t have to say it back. Just listen to me.” Malachai’s hand shifted from my chin, now resting against my cheek. I nuzzled into it instinctively, desperate for his warmth and closeness.

“I love you. I’ve loved you for some time now. Loving someone… well, it was never something that I thought could happen to me. But you…” Kai began playing with my hair, moving us so that I was sitting in his lap. I rested my head on his shoulder as he spoke, listening intently. “You brought so much into my life. You are my best friend, and I know you as well as I know myself.

“You don’t have to say it back. If you want me to, I’ll wait for as long as you need.” He squeezed me in his embrace, resting his head against mine. “I won’t cross any boundaries until you take them down.”

Lifting Kai’s hand from my waist, I gingerly opened his palm. With a deliberate softness, I pressed my lips to each of his fingertips. He had to know how much I cared about him, even if I couldn’t put it into words as he had.

Malachai understood me instantly, and when I looked up at him, his kiss stole the rest of my thoughts. Turning in his lap, I wrapped myself around him. My fingers snaked upwards, intertwining with the hair at the base of his neck. Kai only tugged me closer until every inch of me melded with him.

“Mm… Rose…” I couldn’t pull away, even as he tried to speak. “Rosalie…” Whimpering ever so slightly, I obliged and moved away just an inch. “Are you sure you want this tonight? I need you to be certain, princess. You need to be prepared to be mine, from now until forever.” I nodded, unable to find my voice, but that didn’t seem to be enough. “I need your words, Rose. Tell me if you want this. If not, I’ll stop, I promise.”

“I want you, Malachai. Please…” He smiled, and it warmed my heart. The next kiss he pressed to my lips was so very tender, as if he were touching something dearly precious to him. Perhaps he was.

Kai's POV:

I held Rosalie delicately, shifting us so she lay beneath me once more. I was afraid of frightening her, making her run if I made too many of my needs known too soon; with how long I’d desired for this, some were bound to slip through despite my best intentions. I moved away from her lips, finding the sensitive skin of her neck instead. Trailing my mouth across her collarbone, I nipped at it playfully, loving the little gasp I got from her in response.

One hand pulled the sleeve of her sweater off of her shoulder, and I nestled into the crook there, sucking on her flesh and leaving my mark there. A deep, primal possessiveness woke within me when Rosalie’s hands found my body. She wrapped her arms around me, clutching me close to her. “I’m here, baby. I’m not going anywhere.”

Moving ever so slowly, I stripped her clothes from her. With every inch exposed, I peppered more kisses onto her skin, hoping to find the light within her and make it mine. When Rose lay bare beneath me, it took immeasurable control to keep things gentle. There would be more time for other explorations.

With the way my arms enveloped her, Rose couldn’t move much. When she asked to touch me, to feel me as I felt her, how could I possibly say no? With frenzied hands, she undressed me. Her cool skin was flush against my own, getting hotter with every passing second. My erection pressed against her trembling upper thigh, eliciting a desperate groan from us both.

There was much I ached to do before I claimed her for the first time. Looking into her eyes, I let my fingers slide down her stomach to her sex. That one touch made me lose to the lust I was trying so hard to hold back. There was a narcotic power in her gaze. Whether she knew it or not, I was at her mercy and would be for as long as she wanted me.

I sank a finger inside her, laying kisses down her body. Pumping it in and out steadily, I studied her reactions. She was exquisite. Her eyes were shut tightly, her fingers clasping at my shoulders as my tongue flicked against her hard nipples. My cold rings rubbed against her outer folds with every thrust of my fingers, and the shudder she gave was delicious.

When my lips finally met my fingers to pleasure her, Rose bucked forward off the bed. Pinned down by my firm grip, there was nowhere for her to escape the ecstasy I had in store for her. My fingers pushed deeper into her with each penetration, curling upwards to find her pleasure center inside her. She screamed for me, and I fucking loved it. “That’s it, baby girl. Just let go. Let me make you feel good.” My tongue joined in, sloppily consuming her liquid desire. I’d yearned to worship her body this way for so long, and I wouldn’t be done for a long time. Her walls clenched around my fingers, her legs splayed over my shoulders. “Are you going to cum for me, Rosalie? Are you going to cum for me like a good girl?”

Her reply came mixed with breathless moans and eager whimpers. “Yes, Daddy… I’m so close, please don’t stop!” Daddy? Her words pulled a growl from my chest, and I was invigorated. Pulling away, I gave her the command to cum for me, my thumb rubbing her clit while my fingers didn’t let up their attack. “Cum for Daddy, princess. Show Daddy how good he makes you feel.”

The dam of her pleasure exploded, and she unraveled under me. It was so fucking beautiful, and it was all mine. She was all mine. The sight of her made me desperate to quench my own thirst, and before her first orgasm could even subside, my throbbing cock replaced my fingers, my lips silencing her sounds.

Rosalie's POV:

Stars clouded my eyes. The only thing on my mind was Malachai. It took me over completely. I was his, and I didn’t want it any other way. Our tongues danced together when our kiss grew more torrid, our bodies rocking together and the bed along with us. He pulled away, staring down at me. One strong arm stabilized his body on the headboard, his muscles tensing with effort; his other hand wrapped around my throat, holding me down.

One orgasm melted into the second, making me writhe under him. “Ohhh, fuck!” His heated gaze bore into me as I came undone once more. My eyelids shut tightly in rapture, but that earned another growl from him. “Keep your eyes on me, Rosalie. I want to watch you cum for me over…” His hips slammed forward, making my breath halt in my chest. “Over…” Driving into me, Daddy stole all ounces of my sanity. "And over again. We’re not done until you’ve cum so many times you can’t think.”

“Mmgghh, Daddy! I’ve already – ahh! – done that!” My body quivered, overwhelmed with the sensations still coursing through me. My aching sex clamped around him as he continued pounding into me. “One more, baby girl. Can you give Daddy one more orgasm? Please?” Kai almost begged, and it was the hottest thing I’d ever heard.

Digging my teeth into my lower lip, I nodded. Kai leaned down to kiss my neck, whispering a soft, “Thank you, princess” in my ear. With the way he sped up, I could feel he was reaching his climax. Both our labored breathing and groans melted into the sound of our skin slapping together. “Bite me, love. Drink from Daddy.”

With an eager moan, I sank my teeth into his neck, loving the bite of him down the same. We drank from each other, completely connected by mind, body, and soul. Malachai reached the zenith of his pleasure, bringing me tumbling down another wave of bliss along with him. Our lustful sounds of orgasm were drowned in each other’s necks as we drank our fill.

When the sensations subsided, our lips met with a sense of completion and exhaustion. The lingering essence of each other remained in our mouths, making the kiss all the more fulfilling. When Kai slid out of me, I almost complained. With a kiss to my forehead, he summoned a washcloth, wiping away our sweat, blood, and love juices.

“How are you feeling, baby? I tried to go slow at first, but I don’t think I was all that successful.” Once cleaned up, Kai wrapped himself around me, spooning my smaller body with his larger one. I couldn’t see his eyes this way, but I could feel his heartbeat thumping against my back. It was soothing. “I’m perfect, Malachai. Thank you for tonight.” Earlier, I’d mentioned how he’d saved me tonight by pretending to be my boyfriend. I hadn’t realized it, but he’d saved me in many other ways. He saved my heart, got it back, and put it together after someone else crushed it. I would always be grateful to him for that.

Unable to stop himself, Kai pressed soft kisses to my chin and neck, holding me even closer. “Anytime.” He chuckled about something, and I was just about to inquire when he said, “That’s what boyfriends are for.” Laughing at the clever echo of his earlier words, I turned to face him. My hand rested on his cheek, his blue eyes shining in the dim lighting. My thumb caressed his skin, giving him a small fraction of the love and affection he deserved.

“Malachai Parker, I hope you know how perfect you are.” He grinned, kissing my nose. “Am I? Be sure to tell me that, at least three times a day.” Taking one of his hands, I kissed each of his fingertips once more, cherishing every part of him. “You are, and I love you.”

~~~

Thank you so much for reading! (I haven't written in first person in a long time, oof)

I hope you enjoyed this piece as much as I enjoyed writing it. I welcome your thoughts, comments, constructive criticisms, or anything under the sun!

If you enjoyed this piece, check out more of my Kai Parker stories from my Malachai Parker Masterlist. If you’d like to be added to my taglist, please send me a message or comment on this post.

Until next time, JustAThoughtfulAngel

Master Taglist: @socio-kai-path1972, @bluelicious, @prettybitchfatwitch, @genevivetaylor, @kolsangel, @phasmatos-incendia

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daughter-of-melpomene · 9 months ago

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⇝ if they were canon ask game: 🎬 + ivy keoka pls!! -✨

Thank you so much for the ask, @oneirataxia-girl!! I’m also gonna tag @luucypevensie, @ginger-grimm, and @dancingsunflowers-ocs since I know they love my girl as well. <3

HOW THEY’D BE INTRODUCED:

Ivy’s first scene would be the same as that of most of the main cast in the pilot episode: singing during her audition for New Directions while a voice-over introduces her by her name and what she’s singing. She’d be singing “Roxie” from Chicago, and it would probably be made clear how similar she was to Rachel, talented and very well knowing it.

WHO THE FANDOM SHIPS THEM WITH:

Probably a decent mix of a bunch of other characters. Her main ship would be Sam, of course, but there would also be people who shipped her with Artie and Mike and even Santana or Rachel or Quinn.

WHY THE FANDOM LOVES THEM:

Ivy is very similar to Rachel but not half as arrogant or stuck-up, so I think a lot of people would like her because they consider her a better alternative to Rachel - all of the talent and determination but none of the big head about it. They would probably also appreciate how often she calls other characters out on their bullshit, even Rachel and Finn and Mr. Schue, and a lot of her snappy comments and feminist lines would probably be the source of a lot of memes and GIFs and incorrect quotes.

WHY THE FANDOM HATES THEM:

Despite not being as arrogant as Rachel, Ivy is still uber-competitive and refuses to let anybody but Mercedes and her family closest to her for the longest time, especially the Unholy Trinity and any of the football boys, because she doesn’t trust them to really want to be her friend. This can definitely come off as cold and bitchy, which she honestly is a little bit, but I think a lot of people would only see it on the surface level and hate her because of it.

WHAT THE CAST RELATIONSHIP WOULD BE LIKE:

Auli’i Cravalho is an absolute gem, so I can totally see her getting along great with the cast! She’d probably be real-life besties with Amber Riley as well as on the screen, and I can definitely see her cracking jokes in interviews with Kevin Hale and Dianna Agron and just being really cute friends with everyone.

WHAT THEIR AUDITION SCENE WAS:

I imagine the audition scene for Ivy’s role would have been her first scene, auditioning for New Directions, accompanied by a reading of her first voice-over, even though that wouldn’t come until a few episodes later. It would be a perfect way to test auditioning actresses’ singing and how they could introduce the character, and reading the voice-over lines would allow the casting staff to see how they could embody the character beyond the first episode.

DEPENDANT ON THE FANDOM, WHO THEY’D BE AT PRESS TOURS/AT COMIC CON WITH:

I don’t think the Glee cast ever went to Comic Con, but during interviews I imagine Auli’i would probably mainly be with Amber Riley, since they play best friends, and probably Chord Overstreet in later seasons once Ivy and Sam’s relationship progresses.

IF THEY SPOIL THINGS:

I don’t really think Auli’i seems like the spoiling type, so probably not.

IF THE MOVIE/SHOW HAS ENDED, IF THEY’RE HAPPY WITH THEIR CHARACTER’S ENDING AND THE ENDING AT LARGE:

I think Auli’i would be - by the end of the show, Ivy’s getting ready for her first big Broadway role, she and Sam are in a really good place in their relationship, and she’s even sold some of her original songs to a recording company. What’s not for an actor to be happy about?

send me 🎬 + an oc!!

#asks about my ocs #oc: ivy kekoa

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erikiara80 · 1 year ago

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favorite/least favorite Byler and M!leven scenes?

Ciao, anon. Thanks for the ask.

If you follow my blog I hope you know that I'm not a fan of Mike and El as a couple. I like a few scenes, but I don't think their relationship is good for them or that they're actually in love.

Ok, if you're still reading, let me explain.

I never found them cute, not even in S1. When I watched it I didn't understand why the writers were writing such a good story set in the 80s, but with El and Mike it felt like I was actually watching an 80s show with the typical story, boy and girl kiss/end up together because... boy and girl must date. It felt wrong to me. It wasn't what ST was about. Now I understand that I was supposed to feel that way.

That being said, El and Mike are beautiful, complex characters, so these are the scenes I like.

1. El would (understand). Ok, not saying this is a Mlv scene, but Mike can be vulnerable with Will and say how he really feels. And I love what he says about El. He's right. She would understand. The funny thing, is that I think she would (and will) understand Will much better than how she understands Mike.

2. I feel for them here. El's been isolated for so long, and Mike misses her and feels guilty for what happened to her. Interestingly, Castle Byers is playing here...

3. From one look you can see the joy, the relief and all the pain this kid must've felt. Amazing (one of Finn's best performances)

4. If I remember correctly, this was actually Millie being exhausted, not El, and Finn helped her. But it's in the show, and I love it.

This s pretty much it.

My least favorite mlvn scene: 3x01. How they left their friends on Weathertop, and them making out and laughing at Hopper's face. Lol, those little shits.

With Byler, it's the opposite. There's only one scene I don't like. The dnd campaign in S3. I know it's important and even foreshadowing of events in S5, but like the rain fight it reminded me of something that happened to me. That's all I'm going to say.

Now, my favorite Byler scenes...

1. Probably my favorite scene of the show, imo one of the best and also Finn's best perfomance. The shed scene is such a pivotal moment, when we learn, along with Will I'm sure, that asking him to be his friend was the best thing Mike has ever done. It all started with Will and Mike. Their bond is special, and it's forever. They were the ones who started the first party and they will start a new one together.

2. You can feel how much they need each other and want to be close again. A precious moment that almost made me cry.

3. He's quiet today. Four words that mean so much. The fact that Lucas says He's always quiet informs us that Will and Mike's relationship is different. That Mike knows Will better that the rest of the party and that Will opens up to him. And Mike does the same, as we see in the Crazy together scene.

4. Mike's head on Will's heart. Adorable

5. Another little moment that is so important. Just a Not possible, a flirty look and Mike's smile. They don't need anything else. Steve would've felt it, the electricity.

6. Speaking of Mike's smiles, the ones in the van are something beautiful

7. Crazy together. What else can I say?

8. I love Will's sweet voice here: "It was you guys who saved me. It was you guys." Mike tries to hide a smile (he's so happy that Will is saying that he helped save him) Then Will's flirty: It always is, isn't it?" And Mike melts. It was too much for him.

Honorable mention:

And this (Gif credits to Celebslive)

#byler #will byers #mike wheeler #anti mileven #stranger things

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myladyofmercy · 2 years ago

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I got tagged by @tessabennet to do a

8 shows to get to know me

list and she did it as a kind of watch history and I loved that method so I am copying it

1. h2o: just add water

this show defined my childhood. i was obsessed. i remember only being allowed to watch the rewatches on saturday mornings but not the premieres that came mondays through thursdays. when s3 came around my parents allowed me to record the episodes on vhs and then watch the episode the next day. when the finale aired i had a friend come over after school the next day and we watched the last two episodes even tho she already watched them the night before. in the scene where lewis walks down the stairs in slow mo she pulled out her flip phone and recorded the scene because she thought he looked so cute.

also rikki made me gay and i was always her when we played mermaids in the pool.

2. glee

my first big teenage obsession. i think i started watching when season 2 was airing. the last two seasons took so fucking long to come out dubbed that it was the first time i streamed an episode right after it aired in the us even tho my english wasn't that good yet. i also got my mom and my aunt to watch it. my aunts favorite was finn and when i read that cory had died i called her right before bed to tell her and she told me later she couldn't sleep that night.

my favorite characters were quinn and kurt. quinn made me gay(er)

also i wasn't in fandom spaces back then so i managed to escape all the crazy shit that went on in the fandom back then but i have met some new friends recently who were in it and told me some horror stories and i really feel like I dodged a bullet.

3. gossip girl

i only watched this show after it aired but it's so messy and a definite guily pleasure.

also unpopular opinion but my favorite character was jenny (i am also obsessed with her band and their music and covered two of their songs in my school rockband)

4. the originals

i always preferred the originals over the vampire diaries because i just liked klaus and the other mikaelsons more than elena and co. i also became obsessed with the soundtrack of the show and used to listen to the tracks on youtube and would then convert my faves. that's how i discovered my love for ruelle.

5. shameless

another big obsession I discovered between s4 and s5 airing. i remember crying real tears when ian and mickey broke up in s5. i think gallavich was the first pairing i watched fanedits on youtube for and also how i discovered twenty one pilots and my ultimate beloved florence and the machine. i also had a fan account on instagram at one point that got some likes from emma kenney.

6. supernatural

oh supernatural.

i discovered the show at a very low point in my life and bingewatched 10 seasons back to back while staying home from school. destiel was the first ship i ever read fic for (twist and shout anyone?) and even tho this show went on for wayyyy to long and made some very questionable choices it still has a place in my heart.

7. 911

at this point in time this show is probably my biggest obsession right now (probably because a new season is airing right now) i saw gifs of buck and abby on tumblr when the first season was airing in 2018 but only started watching when the spin off started and i rediscovered it via tumblr during s3. i have done multiple rewatches at this point and this show can truly make you laugh, cry, look away in disgust and believe in humanity at the same time.

also either buddie is the best slow burn of all time or the biggest queerbait since destiel and i am down for the ride.

8. young royals

where do i even begin with this show. it showed up on tumblr in july of 2021 and then i watched it the second weekend of the month and my life changed. since then i have started being truly active on tumblr, creating content myself, reading fanfic earnestly and by some great writers who i can call friends now, learning swedish (even tho the bird scares me), found a bunch of friends from all over the world and flew to fucking canada all on my own to visit people i met through this show. like what the fuck. even tho my obsession is a bit dormant right now they have just started filming the third and last season and as the amount of content will grow my obsession will too. i know it.

okay so this was a fucking essay but i really enjoyed this little deep dive into my watch history and even tho i don't expect anyone to do this I'm gonna tag some of my lovely friends (who i may or may not have found through that small swedish show at 8.)

@tooindecisivetopickaurl @i-love-semicolons @prince-simon @angelbabysimon @cloudywilmon @royalwilmon @oatmilkovich @ungaroyals @aro-of-artemis @little---versailles @cantputitintowords

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brummiereader · 1 year ago

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It's here 😍! I've been waiting for this post (patiently 😌) ever since you first mentioned it!

"Might keep Arthur from wanking about her, but it didn’t give him the readied solider he needed, he thought with a roll of his eyes" this had me giggling straight away 😂, I love siblings bluntness.

i was pretty surprised to see how Arthur reacted to his brother saying Y/N was fine when they left. He is already so close to snapping, and that's with his own brother! Tommy is very casual about this whole thing, I don't think he knows Arthur's true mindset when it comes to Y/N 😬 or maybe he does but doesn't care 😂.

So Arthurs affection/obsession started from a very young age, which could explain everything! "Approaching carefully so as not to startle you, he removed his cap to greet you" this line stood out to me, has he sneaked up to Y/N before and "startled" her before. She seems to have not picked up on the fact that he has more than a crush on her 😬, which I'd say is pretty normal considering her own troubles at home 😔. I hate James so much already 😡!

Aaaand I was right 😂, Tommy doesn't give a shit 🙄😅. I really love how you have written their interactions. Arthur's mind is set on one thing where Tommy is trying to keep things business only.

Oh god, not the black gloves (😳👋@call-sign-shark 😂) ! I'm starting to feel really sorry for him 😩. He pours his heart out and although she tries to reassure him and sweetly declines his help, you can see the desperation in his words and actions. For the moment I would say he's a pretty soft Yandere, but I don't think it's going to last 😂. Our girl needs help but I'm afraid Arthur might help in the worse possible way 😬.

The image of him in the corner washing the blood of his hands is terrifying and with the added GIF 😳. But the way ay he quietky talked to her after creeped me out the most. Now his gone full Yandere, there will be no stopping him. “I did what I did for you…for us" the delusional idea he has that this was done for them is so terrifying, these men can't rationalise with the fact that the woman they are obsessed with doesn't feel the same, it's not even an option to them. This whole scene was 👌!

"Arthur stood out front with John and Finn, papers in hand. “Going somewhere?” he asked in a conversational tone that belied his devilish intentions" *gulp, we all knew she would never escape him. And I absolutely love the gif you inserted ❤️. BLOODY HELL John!!! I can't believe these brothers are ok with all of this, I'm starting to believe they might all have yandere tendencies 😳😂.

"Say yes to heaven," he whispered once more before you fainted" a part of me things that she won't be allowed to say no 😳.

Absolutely adored this Lee ❤️! Thank you for feeding my dark mind 😂. Beautifully written as always, everything just flows perfectly, I was sad it stopped 😩!

Say Yes to Heaven

dark!Arthur x female reader

Summary: Your childhood friend, Arthur, is deeply upset by the way your boyfriend is treating you and decides to take matters into his own hands in order to save you. However, his protection soon grows into an unhealthy obsession.

Author’s Note: An idea I had to explore dark!Arthur in a different way.

Warnings: drinking, drug use, unreliable narrator, mention of domestic abuse, mention of blood, yandere tendencies

France, 1917

“Arthur, stop pacing, you’re making the other lads nervous,” Tommy commanded, stamping out his cigarette.

“I can’t help it, Tom,” Arthur replied, biting his lip anxiously, taking another swig from the small bottle the doctor had prescribed.

Tommy wrenched it from his hands. “Stop it, man. You don’t need that stuff.”

Arthur clenched his jaw in frustration, turning his head away as he replied, “I do though. Need to forget I’m here when she’s back home…with him.”

Tommy shook his head in disbelief as he poured away the opium and bromide solution. Might keep Arthur from wanking about her, but it didn’t give him the readied solider he needed, he thought with a roll of his eyes.

“Nah, you don’t understand what could happen to a girl like her if I’m not there to protect her,” Arthur asserted.

“Then see to it when you get home, but don’t get yourself killed worrying about some girl who seemed happy when we left,” Tommy huffed.

Arthur’s eyes went wild at the suggestion, pushing his brother up against the trench. “You think she were happy with a piece of shit like him who don’t know how to treat her? Or have you forgot what men like that do? Like dad was with mum?” he asked, lower lip trembling.

Tommy sighed seeing there was no use arguing. “I didn’t say that, did I? I just said to make it home alive.” Then he pushed his older brother from him, watching his sibling crash to the ground, holding his aching head. Tommy knew if vengeance was what his brother wanted, he would have it. Arthur was never one to let go of a grievance.

—————————————-

Birmingham, 1919

“Esme, I need the black star list,” Arthur said in a low voice, shifting his weight on the balls of his feet as he might before a fight, ready and eager for the first punch. She barely looked up as she pushed the slip of paper across the desk, unaware of what it meant to him. He immediately scanned the list for the name of his foe, heartbeat thundering in his chest with the anticipation of a righteous victor. However, it was not to be his day.

When Arthur realized the name he sought was not on the list, he emitted a low growl of displeasure. “He fucking owes, I know he does,” he mumbled under his breath.

“Something wrong, Arthur?” Esme asked, looking up from her work in confusion.

Thinking for a moment he shook his head. “Tommy’s made a mistake, but I’ll make it right,” he assured her.

“What do you mean?” she asked with furrowed brow, but Arthur was already out the door.

——————————-

Arthur’s agitation was momentarily quelled by the sight of you walking down Watery Lane, the morning sunlight streaming through your hair. Your angelic face gave him pause, but only long enough to notice what he swore was a fresh bruise blooming just below your right elbow. His heart clenched as he noticed you wincing under the weight of the basket you carried and he was instantly transported to childhood. When you were eight and he was ten, he would rush out into the street to help you carry a bucket of ale home to your father. He knew the punishment for spilled beer and he couldn’t allow it to happen to someone so soft and delicate. Your large doe eyes urged him to treat you carefully, offering his protection whenever he could.

Approaching carefully so as not to startle you, he removed his cap to greet you. A wide smile overtook his features when you acknowledged him, a feeling of warmth radiating through his chest from a simple glance from you.

“You alright there, darlin’?” he asked with a softness reserved just for you.

“I’m fine, thank you,” you replied brightly. As he stood twisting his cap nervously in his hands without anything more to say, you bid him goodbye and continued down the street.

“Where are you headed?” Arthur asked eagerly, nearly tripping over his own feet as he rushed after you. He was enamored with you, openly staring at your beauty, and it made you blush. Arthur had a crush on you since you were kids which you found endearing. You couldn’t understand how others could be frightened of him in the slightest, despite your friends’ constant warnings a Shelby brother was dangerous company.

“I have to return to the shop. I shouldn’t keep James waiting,” you said, thinking of how busy the morning rush could be.

Arthur furrowed his brow, as he remembered the scorching heat of the ovens and the callouses on your hands. He hated the thought of you having to work so hard. As his shoulder bumped against yours, he felt your bone poke back against him and worry began to consume him. He wanted to ask if you’d eaten that morning or in the last week, but thought better of it.

“How’s business?” he asked instead.

“As well as can be expected when people are still recovering from the war. James was a great help after father died though,” you praised, shifting the basket to your other arm with a grunt.

“Let me help you with that. Looks heavy, love,” Arthur commented, trying to be useful.

However, by that time you were standing in front of the shop. James peered out the front window at you, raising his cane to tap against the glass. “I have to go now, Arthur, but thank you for walking with me,” you said quickly before disappearing inside. Arthur looked up and scowled at the man in the window, taking note of the object most likely used to mark your skin. “Fucking cunt…” he hissed, clenching his fists at his side.

————————————————-

“Are there any other orders of business?” Tommy asked before attempting to close the family meeting.

“Yeah, I’ve got somethin to say,” Arthur spoke up, voice coursing with urgency.

“Well, what is it?” Tommy said impatiently, squinting cautiously through the smoke from his cigarette to study his older brother.

“When do we go after James Miller, eh? It’s been six bloody months,” Arthur sniffed disgustedly.

“James Miller? He has no outstanding debts,” Lizzie said, opening a file in front of her and scrunching her nose as she followed a column of names with her finger.

“It’s not about money. It’s about reputation, Lizzie. Ain’t that right, Tommy?” he said, looking to his brother expectantly. “The Peaky Blinders keep order round here now and James Miller ain’t playin by the bloody rules.”

Tommy pinched the bridge of his nose as he began to see where the conversation was heading. “Arthur, we’ve been through this already. Y/n hired James Miller as a legitimate employee. Who are we to tell her how to run her fucking bakery? Who gives a fuck?” he said, stamping out his cigarette and turning to grab his jacket off the chair.

Arthur stood a bit too quickly, nearly overturning his seat in his haste. “I give a fuck because he’s taken what isn’t his! Making her work night and day and taking all the profits.” He grabbed Tommy’s arm to make his brother look him in the eye as he stressed, “He’s hurtin’ her too, I know it.”

Tommy took note of the pain in Arthur’s eyes. He was well aware that there were nights Arthur drank himself into a stupor, rambling about his love for Y/n. As far as he was concerned, she was the only woman in the world and he would fight to the death for her. If allowing him this one victory might bring Arthur’s mind back to business, Tommy decided to agree.

Tommy clamped a hand over Arthur’s and gave a short nod. “Alright, brother, if you’re certain. I’ll let you handle it the way you see fit.”

“S right. By order of the peaky fucking blinders,” Arthur said, savoring the words as he spoke them, knowing justice was forthcoming.

———————————-

“Open up, by order of the Peaky Blinders!” John called, nearly kicking the door in before James could open it.

“Come here to harass me again have you?” James asked, face red with fury, picking up his cane and waving it at the younger Shelby brother.

“James, stop!” you shouted, rushing out to grab his arm. You placed yourself between him and the peaky blinders as you asked in a small, frightened voice, “What’s this about?”

Arthur gulped as he saw you, hating to have caused you distress. “We don’t mean ya no harm,Y/n,” he said, holding up his hands. You studied his black gloves with suspicion, but decided to trust him based on the pleading look he now gave you. He looked genuinely sorry for the intrusion and you thought the least you could was listen.

“Alright, come in,” you said, opening the door toward him.

Arthur shook his head gently before asking, “A word alone, Y/n?”

James gave you a dire look, but you silenced it with a hand to his shoulder and a kiss to his cheek. “It’s alright. I’ll be fine,” you promised, grabbing your shawl and heading down the steps to meet with Arthur as John stayed behind guarding the door.

“Arthur please tell me what’s happening,” you begged as you walked with him.

Arthur stopped by the alley and reached for your hand tenderly. As he did, your shawl slipped, revealing a burn on your lower arm which you quickly covered. “You don’t have to do this, Y/n. I can help ya,” Arthur offered, stroking his thumb over your knuckles.

“Do what, Arthur?” you asked. He looked so forlorn, but you had no idea why.

Arthur’s head turned back toward your shop as his eyes flashed with sudden hatred. “Be with him!”

You took a step back to see if he were actually serious before realizing, Arthur Shelby was jealous. “Because I love him…” you exclaimed as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

“Look how he treats ya!” he said, jerking his chin toward your injured arm.

“That’s a burn from a hot pan, Arthur,” you explained quietly.

“The hell it is! Why you covering for him?” he grunted. Then he softened as he took your cheek in his hand. “You can tell me, dove. Just cause he was here when your dad passed, don’t mean you have to let him take over. I know I was gone fighting a long time, but I’m home now. I want to be here for ya now…please,” he said, pouring his heart out in a way he didn’t think possible.

You listened intently, thinking of all the times he’d been two steps behind you, your fiercest protector since you were small. However, it was nothing more than a form of sisterly affection you felt for him and you realized you’d have to tell him of your feelings sooner rather than later.

“Oh, Arthur, I know you worry. You always have, but I’m not in trouble, you see. I’m in love and we’re getting married,” you said with an encouraging smile. You searched him for a response, but he remained stone faced before you.

Then suddenly something unexpected happened. Arthur’s features contorted into an expression of pain and his face and neck turned to a deep shade of red as he fixed you with a perplexed look. Unable to contain his humiliation at your rejection he shouted, “There’s no ring on your finger, Y/n. You’re lying to me!”

Your eyes grew wide at the change in him and you shook your head violently. “No, no, of course not! We haven’t the money. That's why I don't have a ring.”

Arthur’s hands snaked upward toward your wrists, restraining you with a punishing grasp as he pushed you further into the alley and up against the cool brick. “You’re lying,” he repeated, hot breath fanning over your face as he moved impossibly close. “You don’t love him,” he said as though he were trying to imprint that fact into your mind.

Tears began to well in your eyes from the shock and the pain of his hold. With quivering lip you looked into his eyes as you whispered a frightened plea. “You’re hurting me, Arthur. Please stop.”

The spark was quickly extinguished and Arthur relinquished his hold, backing away and running a hand through his hair, pulling at the roots as he shook himself. “Fook! Fook! God, I’m sorry.”

You wrapped your shawl around yourself tightly as you mumbled, “Goodbye, Arthur,” and scurried away, unsure what to make of the situation.

Arthur stood in the alley for what seemed hours, pacing and plotting, his mind never leaving you. None of what he’d heard could be right. You would come back to him, he was sure of it.

———————————-

The heat from the kitchen was dissipating slowly to mix with the chill of the late evening air. James had gone to take out the rubbish bins and you were waiting for his return as you finished the cleaning. It was another long day and you felt yourself slipping into a soporific state even as you stood cleaning.

Willing yourself to continue, a sudden gust from the open back door blew a solid sheet of rain into your face, causing you to blink and sputter as you fumbled for the door, rain pouring across the threshold. As you grappled with the edge of the door, an unsettling crash came from the alleyway and you turned in a tight circle, looking for James. Instead of your boyfriend, you caught sight of Arthur Shelby, or at least you thought it was him, from his profile. He stood at the corner of your house, washing his hands in the run off from the eaves, scrubbing them clean of what you weren’t entirely sure.

GIF credit @peakykestrel

“Arthur?” you called out in a shaky voice.

His hands froze at the sound of your soft voice, one covering the blood which stained the other. He couldn’t let you see what he’d done, though he knew you’d find out soon enough. Dipping his head low to slough the water off his flat cap, he gazed back up at you with wild eyes like an animal caught with prey still in its jaws.

“Y/n, what’re ya doin’ out here? Thought you’d be in bed by now,” he managed, voice rumbling low like the thunder rolling through the city.

“I heard a noise,” you explained, eyes coming to rest on a broken piece of wood at the bottom of the stairs. It was hard to make out in the dim light, but it appeared to have the carvings of James’ cane and you felt your heart lurch. Arthur’s head tilted at a precarious angle to follow your line of sight, eyes flicking back up to yours and causing a shudder to course through your whole body. Your hands twisted nervously in your apron, feeling very small under his intense scrutiny.

Hiding his hands behind his back, Arthur slowly paced toward you in a stalking motion that made your stomach churn with dread. You shivered as he motioned for you to enter the house. “S too cold for ya out here, love,” he whispered in a voice that sounded far too placid. Then you felt his large hand at the small of your back, shooting electric sparks straight to your feet. Only then did your limbs begin to move in halted jerks with Arthur steering you into the sitting room.

You allowed him to guide you, feeling the grip he held on your elbow as he sat you in a chair by the fireplace. He took care to light it for you before taking a seat opposite you. Then he removed his coat and hat as if to show he had further business to discuss.

Despite the warmth that surrounded you, you shook violently as you asked, “Arthur, what have you done?”

Arthur leaned forward as he removed a flask from his pocket. Taking a long swig of whisky from the silver container to fortify himself, he exhaled sharply, “What should’ve been done a long time ago. I took care of him.”

“No, no…” you begged, catching sight of his bruised knuckles and bloodied shirt fully for the first time.

He rushed to your side to cradle you as your head fell into your hands, rocking yourself as you wondered how you would go on now.

“Let the fear go, love. He can’t hurt you anymore. I’ve got you now,” Arthur whispered into your hair as he cradled your limp body. Running a hand over your hair with his damp hands, he felt a surge of pride course through his veins and it was intoxicating. He had you in his arms as it should always have been.

Feeling a stir of desire, he pressed his face against your neck, kissing you with feverish passion. You recoiled from him in horror, pushing against the side of his face with the heel of your hand. Panting and heaving, you tried to shove him away, but he was much too strong. Finally he pulled away to look at you, rigid and frightened in his embrace.

“Please don’t look at me that way, love,” he begged, capturing your face between his large palms. “I did what I did for you…for us. He was hurtin’ ya. I couldn’t let that go on,” Arthur mused, staring into the fire.

“Arthur, I told you, I loved him. We were happy…,” you said through tears, now streaming down your face. You pulled his hands from you and studied the blood that still remained, trembling at the sight of it around his wrists and under his fingernails. You bit your lip harshly and closed your eyes to steady yourself from being sick at the thoughts running through your mind of how he’d killed James.

Arthur turned to look at you, “You’re confused. He weren’t good for ya, but I am,” he said earnestly. “I can give you a good life. Treat you like a queen, I will if you’ll be my wife. Say yes,” he asked, eyes shining like two bright stars. “To everything I can give ya.”

You took in a shaky breath as you fell back into his arms broken and defeated, how long could you deny him, you wondered? He was a delusional madman and you had to find a way out.

———————————————-

Two months later…

“Oh my God, I can’t thank you enough,” you said through tears, hugging your friend.

“Promise me you’ll go live a good life in America where that prick can never find you,” Celia said with more than a hint of malice. She’d been working tirelessly to secure passage for you by railway and steamliner as well as a new life in New York and now that everything was in order, you would be on your way the following morning, never to set foot in Small Heath ever again.

You packed a bag and went to bed with visions of your new life dancing before your eyes. Life had never felt so peaceful, knowing you were taking charge of your terrible circumstances.

You woke before dawn, pushing yourself out from a cold bed you’d barely slept in and hurried downstairs to collect your case and papers. However, the documents you needed were nowhere to be found. An icy chill clamped over you as you searched, knowing something wasn’t right. Had you left them with Celia in your haste? With only an hour to make it to the train station, you rushed out of the house to see her. However, you didn’t get far.

Arthur stood out front with John and Finn, papers in hand. “Going somewhere?” he asked in a conversational tone that belied his devilish intentions.

“Arthur…” you gulped. “What are you doing?”

“Could ask the same of you, love?” he said. “What’s all this, eh? Having a holiday without me?” he asked without a hint of amusement, shaking the papers he held in his hands.

“I…I was going to tell you about that,” you lied.

“Were you now?” he asked thoughtfully, head turning from the papers to dig into his pocket for something which you quickly realized was a lighter.

You ran toward him screaming “No!” with outstretched hand, as he set the papers ablaze before your very eyes, all hopes of a new life burning before you.

GIF credit @cinematv

“I had my eye on you since we was kids, Y/n. I said she will be mine and nothing will keep us apart,” Arthur said, crushing the papers in his gloved hand. “Nothing,” he reiterated as the ashes fell at his feet. John laughed as the embers of his cigar fell to the ground, joining the tattered remnants of your dignity.

“We’ll have heaven here on Earth, my darling. Just need you to say yes,” Arthur proclaimed, reaching for your trembling hand. He pulled a ring from his pocket and slipped it onto your finger as you shook with fear. "Say yes to heaven," he whispered once more before you fainted.

-------------------

Tag List:

@peakyswritings

@evita-shelby

@shelbydelrey

@alanadetigy

@wandawiccan60

@severewobblerlightdragon

@lovemissyhoneybee

@theshelbyslimited

@kittycatcait219

@callsign-fangirl

@christinasyellowflowers

@notyour-valentine

@theshelbyclan

@areyenotfondofmelobster

@polishcrazyone

@elenavampire21

@little-diable

@lyarr24

@jomarch-wannabe

@the-fangirl-diaries

@kmc1989

@raincoffeeandfandoms

@cillmequick

@dearshelby

@call-sign-shark

@brummiereader

@peakyltd

@dreamlandcreations

@there-goes-thefighter

@pacifymebby

@emotionalcadaver

@moral-terpitude

@multifandomwriter56

@padfootdaredmetoo

@mythos-writes

@runnning-outof-time

#100% recommend #The black gloves are on 😳#Yandere Arthur Shelby #arthur shelby x reader #Arthur Shelby imagine #Arthur Shelby x y/n #Peaky Blinders fanfic #Arthur Shelby fanfic #Peaky Blinders imagine

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palettehao · 2 years ago

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Mike's monologue is so unsettling to me for many reasons but I've come to realize that one of the biggest reasons is because he doesn't cry?

The monologue is so devoid of emotion he's basically just yelling and spitting out what he can to try and reach El. There's no tears, no sobbing cause he's horrified of losing her like he claims, like she's literally dying right in front of him and the confession lacks emotion, lacks the impact it's supposed too have and I find it so weird. This confession is meant to be such a big thing, the suffers even hyped it up saying it was a more emotional Mike that it was hard hitting stuff and new for Finn, but it falls so flat, why??

Tell me why the Byler heart-to-heart in the bedroom has way more emotional rawness, why is Mike on the verge of tears there but not when his girlfriend who he loves is dying, and people will probably come and say shock or something stupid, but I don't care that comes off as an excuse because he should have been sobbing, pouring his heart out ready to absolutely break if she didn't live BUT HE DIDN'T

This scene should have been the moment to solidify their relationship, it should have been the thing to fully fix their relationship, but they don't even talk at the end

And if we really want to compare then season 2 in the shed compared to the confession is insane it's actually blowing my mind how different they are! like the emotional rawness that comes from Mike in the shed scene is heartbreaking, there's no music, there's only his crying, his sniffling and yes he does cry when he's fearing that he's going to lose Will so much so that he can barely keep himself together to keep talking as he's reliving the memory of them first meeting, because remember it's "the best thing he's ever done" and he doesn't stutter and try to think of what to say when he talks about that moment, no he says it with such ease.

It's the same situation but why are they so completely different from each other why does Mike react so incredibly different when El is in danger here vs when Will was in season 2

To further my point ^^^

Mike is already crying before he gets his first word out in the shed "It was the first day in kindergarten, I knew nobody." Vs his first "I love you" to El which he literally has to think about before saying, like he hesitates for second right?

The second set of gifs I tried showing is the "you said yes, you said yes. It was the best thing I've ever done" line and the "my life started the moment I saw you" but the camera isn't even on Mike when he's says that to El which is weird, like it's supposed to be a big part of the confession... Anyways I had to pick the next time we saw him talking which is when he says the shirt was so big it swallowed her whole. His eyes look empty the more I look at it

I think these gifs speak for themselves but go watch these two scenes again, the love confession then the shed scene, because my god it's so different.

(can you tell through my ranting that I kept coming back to this for an hour to add more)

#the whole thing is so off too me...#if this meant to be so big why is so devoid of emotion #the impact is not there #and we all said if he did confess it had to be before El hot her powers back #or else it would feel fake and forced no matter what and would you look at that!!#plus the inconsistency in the monologue and how its piggybacking of Will's confession damn #i dont want to seem delusional but you seeing what im seeing??#byler #byler tumblr #stranger things #stranger things season 4 #will byers #mike wheeler #byler season 4 #byler analysis

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toms-cherry-trees · 4 years ago

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The Shelby Way - Ch.2 “The Letter”||Shelby! Reader

Summary: How can one piece of paper hold so much sorrow

Word Count: 2416

Warnings: None, unless pissed Polly counts as one

Author’s note: I know nothing much happened in this chapter but this scene needed to be done to settle the mood back home. Next chapter we will see reader surviving in France. I wanted to use the gif with Polly breaking the glass in S1 but couldn’t find it

Chapter: One - Three - Four - Five - Six

Taglist: @caelys @carryonmyhomoson @pendragonpants (couldn’t find them tho) @lovemissyhoneybee

7 days. 7 whole days since anyone last saw you and emotions were running wild in the family. They had exhausted every option and worn out every man under their command, searching far and wide for the missing girl. The effect of your absence was visible in each member. Finn barely spoke or slept, Polly drank and smoked twice as much as usual, and many nights Arthur and John stayed in Watery Lane, hoping to see you walk through the door as if nothing ever happened. Ada had her hands full, having to look after Karl, Charlie and now Tommy, who had sunk deeper into his self-dug hole. The dark circles accentuated his blue eyes, and the paleness of his sunken cheeks only added to the cadaveric effect. He still went out with the horse every night without miss, but Ada suspected he went out looking for you.

Guilt ate him alive every waking hour, his consciousness screaming at him for not taking care of you properly, after having sworn to himself and his family he would protect you like his own daughter. Not even in his sleep could he find solace for his grief, for a new nightmare had come to plague his dreams; you standing at the end of a long hallway, always within sight but out of reach, and no matter how fast he ran, whenever Tommy thought he had you back in his arms, you slipped from his grasp like sand.

Thomas would never admit out loud that he recognized he was to blame for this and would never forgive himself if you were hurt, or worse, because of his carelessness. Four years he fought in the war to build a better world for you, every day he worked for your future. So much he worked on that, Tommy forgot to actually look after you, and make sure you were always safe. If he had been more careful, if he had paid attention, you would still be at his side. But he hadn’t and now all he could do was find you, even if he had to lift every stone in England.

Tommy thought that it wasn’t humanly possible to be this stressed, but his worries were about to skyrocket the moment the entire family marched into his office. All of his siblings, the wives, Michael, Uncle Charlie and Curly; a whole family meeting. Finn had even brought Isaiah along for emotional support. Heading the retinue was Polly, bearing a grimace on her face and a letter in her hand. The crinkled and worn out paper had clearly been passed around a lot, already having small rips in the folds, and stains in the corners. Polly smoothed out the paper in front of Tommy, along with a partly torn envelope “Read it”

She didn’t need to say it twice. That calligraphy was unmistakeable. Only his little poppet dotted the “I’s” with full circles and double looped the ends of sentences. The letter shook in his hands, as if it weighed a thousand pounds, burning his hands like an open flame. Yet he collected himself enough to read out loud.

“Dear Family:

First of all, I am sorry. I apologize for not getting in touch sooner, but the transoceanic post service can’t be trusted. Yes, you read that right, transoceanic. To answer your biggest question, I am currently residing in Calais, France. Do not try to come and fetch me, for I am planning on moving away as soon as possible.

How did I do it? Well, this is real proof you truly underestimated my ability to plot, and how little attention you actually pay to anything but yourselves. Friday night I left for London and stayed at Ada’s place. Tell her I borrowed a coat and left the lights off. From there I went to Dover and took the night boat to Calais. Where did I get the money? I took it from Tommy’s safe; he ought to think of a better combination. How did I get documentation? I traded a couple favours and an emerald ring with a Lee boy. They have a lot to offer, if you know whom to ask.

Why did I leave? I needed out. Out from being looked down, cast aside or generally ignored. Out from feeling like I am more of a burden than an asset for everyone, both in the family and the company. Away from feeling the family I love with all my heart slip away from me and each other with each passing day. I could barely recognize any of you.

Everyone moved on without me, even Finn, while I was stuck behind and all I could do was watch, as if I was standing on the other side of a glass. Tommy was even going to send me away. But I spared him the trouble and money and did it myself, on my own terms. I can’t help but wonder how long it took you to notice my absence. Or if you did at all; maybe this is the first time you’ll look up from your stacks of money since I left.

I will come back, some day. I don’t know when, but one day my roots and my heart will pull me back to the place I once called home. But in the meantime I’ll go on my own way just like you have all done. I just took it to the next level, the Shelby way. I promise to write in hopes of easing any concerns about me, if you have them at all. Only worry if you don’t hear from me in a month. Try not to miss me too hard, but since we barely saw each other anymore, the absence will be barely noticeable.

Wishing you the best of luck

Yours

(Y/N) (Y/M/N) Shelby

Everyone held their breaths, waiting for his reaction. John and Arthur even had a bet running on Tommy either trashing the office down or him going entirely blank. So they waited, and waited, while Thomas kept staring at the paper, cigarette turning to ash on his lips. His piercing eyes moved from side to side frantically, rereading over and over the same line, just one line, the only one that had caught his attention; those two little words.

Calais, France.

You were in fucking France. From all places, you chose the one country in this whole world none of your brothers could ever bear to set foot in again. The one place that showed up in each of their nightmares, and would do so for the rest of their lives. It felt as if you did it to punish them. Your own little form of revenge.

Tommy refused to believe it. His darling girl didn’t have the guts, or the wits to actually run away. Not that he believed you coward or lacking intelligence, but you were just a child. A child who still had stuffed animals piled on your bed, scrunched your nose at the taste of strong liquor, and wore your hair in plaits around the house. Tommy would have believed more about you running away with the Lees, or hiding in a room in Ada’s place for weeks; that was more your type of doing. That feeble and unconvincing argument was all he had to keep his frantic thoughts at bay, and he held onto that makeshift lie like a lifeline.

Polly tried her best to play it dumb, when in reality she was about ready to stab Tommy with her hatpin. She helped herself to a glass of whiskey and lit a cigarette, sitting across from Tommy, figuring out that if they waited for him to speak; they would all spend the night on their feet. Her face was absolutely unreadable as she leaned back on her seat, legs crossed and her purse carefully balanced on top of her knee.

“What did she mean you were going to send her away?” Her grip around the glass tightened until her knuckles were white, yet did her best to keep a calm demeanour rather than launch herself forward and whack her nephew around the head with her handbag. Although maybe that way she’d get his three remaining brain cells to work and figure a way to clean up this mess and drag you back home, even if he had to drag himself on his knees to wherever you were and beg. Right then, for her, your safety was more important than his hurt ego.

Tommy’s moves were slowly and heavy, as if he was moving through tar. The screech of the chair against the floorboards barely fazed him as he dragged his body to the window behind him, forehead pressed against the cool glass “I planned to send her to a nice boarding school in the north.” Spoken out loud, it sounded even worse than in his head. And the adding of the word ‘nice’ did little to soften the seriousness of his statement “I thought it was a good idea and it would be good for her” He defended himself, although his excuses fell upon deaf ears. John and Finn were ready to deliver a few punches, but Polly beat them to it as she threw a leather bound book straight to his head. She barely had time to look at the cover but it felt heavy enough in her hands; and would surely leave a nice bump. But hurting Tommy physically wouldn’t clench the boiling anger inside her.

“You fucker. You absolutely blithering idiot. How could you do something like this to her? You took her from me, swearing you’d care for her, and not only were you planning to send her away without consulting or even telling us, she also managed to run away to another fucking country right from under your goddamn nose. I don’t understand how Charlie is –“

“Don’t you dare go there” He turned to face Polly so fast he stumbled over his chair, finger pointed in her direction. Tommy could take all the insults and books to the head she wanted, but he wouldn’t allow a single soul to comment on the way he raised his son. Only two people had the right to talk about it, and one of them was already dead.

“Don’t you dare point at me like you’re scolding your maid. You are my nephew and owe me some respect. You should be ashamed of yourself. I am certainly ashamed to call you family right now” Another outburst of rage made her smash her glass against the wall. The Shelbys weren’t foreign to Polly’s anger, but only on counted times they saw her display such levels of fury. Her eyes had darkened and her teeth bared with each word; a lioness defending her cub from the predator; no one in the room was jealous of Tommy’s position “If you weren’t up to the task you could have asked anyone to take her, or let her be as the near adult she is, yet you decided the best idea was to toss her away as if she was just an unwanted ward. I swear to God your mother would be rolling over in her grave if she knew-“

Polly may have crossed a line there, yet no one would attempt to counter her statement or defend Tommy. Those words were like a hard blow to the gut, but deep down, everyone knew they were true. Their mother had always insisted in the importance of family, and had her older children swear to her they would stick together through thick and thin, for at the end of the day, all they had was each other. They had all failed her in their own way. If she could see them now, and see the way they acted towards each other, she would surely cry.

A deep, heavy silence had fallen over those present in the room. When Tommy finally dared to tear his gaze away from Polly, he noticed all eyes in the room were on him. His entire family staring back, angry, hurt, judging him and his actions. If looks could kill, he would have dropped dead a dozen times. A nasty feeling settled on the pit of his stomach as he took in every member, every pair of eyes, pursed lips and clenched fists. Each one eyeing him with one common feeling.

Disappointment.

The scene was too hard to bear, even for a man of stone like himself. Their judgement hurt him in a way he hadn’t been hurt before. A sort of dull pain that went beyond the body, stinging deep into whatever of his soul was left. If anyone else had dared look at him like that, he would have put a bullet right between their eyes. But these people were his kin, his family; his own blood. All looking at him as if he was the lowest piece of scum to ever set foot on this Earth.

The feeling was overwhelming, maddening, overcoming his senses. He couldn’t think clearly, the ground beneath his feet swaying and forcing him to steady himself on the desk like an old man whose forces were failing him. Right now more than ever, he needed a clear mind. Without thinking straight, he would never find you.

In a rather harsh outburst, he rounded up the family with his arms and shoved them out the door like he was ushering drunkards out of a bar. Some didn’t need to be asked twice, for the environment inside that office had become unbearable, and the Shelbys were still mourning the absence of their little sister. But Polly refused to end things like this, without even getting some sort of remorse out of him. Her profanities and screams were heard loud and clear even after Tommy had closed and locked the door on her face. The second he heard their footsteps getting away, he launched himself to the phone. He had men in every port, every border of every city; they would know if you had left. And so his man in Dover told him, he had no (Y/N) Shelby in any list of the past week. But he did have a young girl with the same name, surname Strong. The man described her, point by point detailing your aspect until Tommy could actually see you in the port with your suitcases and blue ribbons in your hair. You had actually done it.

You left.

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julie-finlay · 2 years ago

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Finlay Friday

12x18: "Malice In Wonderland", script extracts

#CSI #CSI CBS #Julie Finlay #DB Russell #Finlay Friday #my gifs #script extracts #Malice In Wonderland #the first scene is cut script dialogue over a different exchange #I couldn’t use my favourite cut bit as there’s nothing to gif it to but #IT’S FINN TRYING TO PUT ON THE MAD HATTER’S HAT AND RUSSELL STOPPING HER #we were robbed #I love this episode #especially for the change from the script to add a single line of Dead Soulmate Backstory and then never ever revisiting it #thanks show that was really fulfilling

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thepeakyfckingblinders · 4 years ago

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Never Again || Thomas Shelby x reader

credits to @saralou23 for the gif

⤠ MASTERLIST⤟

Anon requested/summary: “can I request a fic where the reader is found unconscious or faints in the shop or something and tommy freaks out? I just find protective tommy so ❤️💓💟!! Thank you, your writing is absolutely INCREDIBLE” (Thank you so much honeybun, you’re making me blush, pls, forgive me for being late ❤️)

Warnings: swearing, bossy Tommy, basically Tommy freaking out and being overprotective, me always loving him with all of my mangled soul

Author’s notes:

I hope you are okay darlings, I love you, please stay safe ♡

I’m so sorry for being this late, I have no excuses, forgive me. Also the end sucks, but I’m struggling with my writing lately, so, sorry again.

I love protective Thomas so much, he’s an ass, but he’s a softie, and I’m gonna lose my mind some day.

Behind each one of these works there are sleepless nights and something really close to multiple mental breakdowns, so, please, take a minute to send me a message about it, I need actual actual feedbacks to understand how to improve my skills and grow ♡

If you want to be added to my tag list, please, directly message me

I’m Italian, English isn’t my first language, so I apologize for every possible mistake I made. Also, please, help me improve my writing by telling me if there’s something wrong

ENJOY!

Birmingham’s gelid air hit your sensitive skin with no mercy as soon as your red mary-janes crossed the doorway of the Garrison, only to disgracefully sink into the greyish muddy loam in which the whole of Small Heath seemed to be covered.

Your fingers felt like rigid appendages burdening your already wearied arms, while you tried your best to wrap them around your coat’s edges, in a disperate effort to keep that warm tissue on your bulging clavicles left exposed by the woollen dress you were wearing. No matter how many heavy clothes you decided to put on, that implacable cold still succeeded in making you feel constantly out of forces, debilitated to the core; it had always been that way, since you were nothing more than a little girl obliged to spend one every two months confined in your bedroom, afflicted by incredibly high fever and sometimes even bronchitis.

Truth was that your body had never got used to England’s humid weather, yet, even though you poor healt had previously put you in danger, for your sake, thanks to the enormous progresses made by medicine in the past fifteen years, it was now easy to fight against the ruthless chill of those endless winters. Plus, since the earliest days of your attendence, your wardrobe had been perpetually refreshed with high-quality pieces perfectly in step with the times, for your fiancée had been literally covering you in furs and duvets of all kinds, concerned as he was that you could’ve eventually caught another bad fever, whose deathly consequences he had already experienced on his own thick skin. And for no reason in the world he would’ve even risked to lose you too.

So, as everybody could’ve easily predicted, Thomas was perennially paying attention to your wellbeing: the most famous specialists from inside and outside the United Kingdom had come directly to your country house; if one thing could be taken for granted, it was that your medications would always be settled on your side cabinet, together with a glass of fresh water, every day and every night; and, come hell or high water, he would accompany you during your routine visits to the hospital, even when it meant leaving all of his business without any prior warning.

Needless to say, you were perfectly able to do those things on your own -pheraps except for getting a crowd of world renowned doctors in your living room- and you sure as hell had tried to persuade him that there was no need at all for being so preoccupied all the time; still, he was Tommy Shelby, he simply couldn’t help it.

The concern for his loved ones’ lives kept stealing his sleep, even on those nights when there was no trace of imminent dangers on the horizon, it kept excoriating the insides of his drained brains, to the point that, more than once, you’d had to sleep alone in your immense king-size bed or reach for him in his study, curling up on one of his uncomfortable armchairs, ready to appease his fears as best you could. In short, for as much as you needed him to relax, you were still able to understand his protective behavior, against which, as a matter of fact, no one could do much; thus you at least tried not to give him more reasons to be worried by paying some extra attention to all those small things you could solve without Tommy even knowing about it. Regularly taking your iron tablets, for example. Nonetheless, it had now been already a week since the Peaky Blinders had started a brand new business involving in effect every metalworking factory in and around Birmingham, and the whole family, you and Tom included, had been so turbulently tied up with work to let every other thought and need slither on the back burner. As a direct consequence, your doctor’s latest prescription was unfortunately left lying on the bottom of your drawer, that being the fourth day in a row you’d spent without taking those pills, and, even though everything appeared to be going well until then, that one Thursday morning your period eventually came and stroke the fatal blow, having you feel so faint and aching that, all of a sudden, the few metres separating your side of the street from the betting shop seemed to implausibly dilate right under your blurred vision, a vexing sense of nausea assaulting your empty stomach led you to lean against a lamppost, your skin still crawling beneath all those heavy tissues. Dizziness and lethargy almost took over your sore mind, before you shook your head with an abrupt move in a bid to dispel those unpleasent sensations; clients would’ve arrived in less than a hour, Esme had taken John’s kids on a brief fieldtrip, Michael was already in his office, the boys were making their usual rounds of the mills, Finn and Isaiah were dealing with a couple folks in need back at the Garrison and Polly was nowhere in sight, which made you the only available blinder for the opening and, with Friday’s race approaching, there was no way the box-office could remain shut. Hence, more determined than ever, you chocked down the knot forming in your throat due to queasiness and just forced youself to put one foot in front of the other onto the dusty road, until you reached the shop door, not without the risk of tripping over multiple times in the process. Your frozen fingers clutched to the small side-wall now carring all of your weight, whilst your lungs tried to let in as much air as possible. And it worked, each plodding breath seemed to fight your sickness, also your heartbeat was gradually slowing down, thus you shut your eyelids and continued to inhale deeply for a full minute, before your trembilng hand managed to finally turn the key in the lock, giving you free access to the place.

However, the small click produced by the latch closing again did not live to reach your ears, for they were already brimful of ominous hisses, in a scant moment a bulk of hypnotic grey worms prevented you from seeing anything else, they relentlessly squirmed in front of your dilated pupils, that repulsing view sending brutal shooks straight to your clenched stomach, again. And, before you even had a chance to realize what was going on, your brain completely blacked out.

~ ~ ~

Words would not be sufficient to describe the fright taking over Arthur’s features the second your inert silhouette entered his line of sight. Just returned from their daily patrol, he had indeed noticed a small crowd waiting outside the office, cursing and fussing because of the lacked opening, and that alone had been weird enough for him to punch and kick his way up to the entrance, profanities spilling from his mustached mouth every time somebody’s elbow digged into his ribcage, inducing him to hit back so to stand his ground, only to eventually find himself powerless in front of that ghastly scene. It took him a while to recover from the shock, yet the eldest Shelby eventually regained control of his limbs and moved towards your shape with a single step.

“Polly! Pol, come here, for God’s sake!” Those hoarse yells filled the room, reverberating through the brickwalls, so loud that they could’ve been heard from the other side of the city, Arthur fell on his knees right beside you, gently placing a hand under your nape in order to lift your head. Blind panic streaming in his veins kept him for thinking clearly, he didn’t know what to do, thus he simply shook you from your shoulders, hoping in vain to see your eyes fly back open, but your neck just bent backwards.

“Where the hell is that bloody woman when I need her?!” he grunted those words in between his teeth while tigthening his grip on you, then his chest raised in a sharp move: “Jesus Christ, Polly!” He shouted once more, this time conveying all of his breath and blood towards his larynx, his abrasive voice shriveled and insisted on the last letters of his aunt’s name, until swift strides frantically hit the creaking steps, announcing Polly’s arrive. Her eyes struggled to remain open, her left palm was pressed against her forehead in a silly attempt to soothe the tremendous headache resulted from the previous night’s booze, she didn’t even have the time to put proper clothing on, since her mad niece was apparentely going berserk. “You, son of a bastard-” cursed words died underneath her tongue when she understood what was going on, soon her feet took on a life of their own, as they picked up their peace, leading her next to your body now held in Arthur’s arms.

“She’s freezing, Pol, she’s a fucking chunk of ice!” Hiccoughs shattered his worried cries, he almost whined, shifting his gaze from yours to Polly’s face over and over again, she, on the other hand, used the whole lenght of her right arm to clear in one smooth motion the closest desk. “Quick, lay her here” The deafening noise produced by those items colliding with the pavement barely grazed her hears, whilst she nodded to herself in the effort to impose some order on her obfuscated head, searching for a prompt solution that was late in coming, to the point that Finn beat it to the draw and stormed in, pointing a loaded gun to each corner of the room with fear in his cerulean irises. “What the hell’s going on?” That hysterical question echoed through the place, even though the young boy was finding it hard to get his breath, due to the crazy run he had made to reach the shop immediately after hearing that insane screaming. Nonetheless, in the space of an instant, he saw you as well and fell utterly silent, violent dismay caught him off guard, his wide eyes hesitated on your motionless figure; all of a sudden he didn’t know what to think, nor he could get the thought of your death out of his brains.

“My God, she’s as pale as death” Finn let his mind talk through that throttled murmur, regretting it right away, for silty goosebumps crawled on his skin under the pungent pressure of his brother’s instantaneous lethal glare. “Don’t talk shit, kid! Just fucking go and get Tom!”

The redhead didn’t waste any time, he somehow managed to recollect his guts and steadily disappeared behind the door previously left open. While struggling for air and internally searching for the right words to say in front of Thomas, Finn covered the whole distance between the office and the Garrison. Labored gasps coming out of his slightly parted lips in louder groans as he slammed the heavy pub’s doors open, using only his strongest shoulder; both Harry and Isaiah watched him run towards the back room where Tommy was going through the books, they did not dare spill a word and, after all, the boy didn’t even look in their direction, such was his concentration. Still, once he reached the place, all of a sudden his tongue felt dry, his well-organised speech faded away.

“Finn?! What’s wrong?” Tom’s icy eyes were now staring at him through his round glasses, the paper he’d been reading was instantly dropped, although his tone remained steady. “Y-you need to come, now! She... she’s-” A frown formed upon Tommy’s marble face at his little brother’s furious rambling, something wasn’t right, that was crystal clear, yet he wasn’t able to keep up with those hasty and stuttered sentences, so he approached him, putting both his hands on Finn’s shoulders in order to give him a little shove and maybe get some decent information. “Breathe, kid, and tell me what’s going on” That deep, adamant tone somehow sounded scarier than usual roaring inside the boy’s head, hence anxiety definitively won him over, gaining complete control of his mouth too. “It’s Y/n! I don’t fucking know, Tom, s-she looks dead!” All at once, time and space seemed to collapse around him, one single second dilated, covering the space of a whole lifetime beyond his vacant blue irises now fixed on an undetermined spot of the white wall behind Finn’s back. A gruesome, yet familiar sensation raided his petrified body, it felt like having a beast’s fangs gnawing his throat off, lacerating his flesh to the bone, he could sense every little laceration, his chest being plundered, till even his sable heart was eradicated and then mauled. A strangled wheeze barely lived through his plump lips, that being the only sound he uttered, then his black pupils shrinked and immediately twitched, nailing his sibiling’s gaze. Without receiving an order from his brain, his fists violently gripped Finn’s jacket at the height of his biceps, bringing him a span away from his gnashed teeth with a sharp pull. “Where?” He snarled liked a rabid dog, striking, if possible, geater terror in the young man who struggled to spit an almost inaudible “The shop”, before being shoved against the doorframe as Tommy dodged him and rushed out.

~ ~ ~

Polly held the bottle of her almond parfume she’d just put under your nostrils as if her life depended on it, Arthur’s rough palm, instead, began to pat your pasty cheek. “C’mon, love, wake up! Don’t play games, c’mon!” The dorsum of that same hand now poking the left side of your face, and then going back to the other, at incredible speed. You started to feel your face again when his nudges grew in intensity, until he was practically slapping you; soon a tremendous metallic taste invaded your mouth, or rather, you finally sensed it, whilst your eyelids battled against gravity to get back up. Arthur noticed it, he detected that brief flinch and it felt like being pampered with a fresh breeze after days of unsustainable heat. “Oh, fuck, I think I’m having a stroke” His tone held extreme urgency as he grasped for air, tugging with two fingers at his shirt collar; sure, he was great at knocking people off, maybe the best, yet, unfortunately, after that he’d never tried to bring somenody back with the living.

Blinding light rended your shrouded eyes, everything appeared blurred to the point that you couldn’t distinguish Polly’s features, although she was right beside you; nor your hearing was working, since the loud thud produced by the wooden door hitting the brickwall, and then your name barked by your fiancée’s coarse voice, sounded muffled to your ears. With a superhuman effort you succeeded in tilting your face towards the entrance, you recognized the navy-blue suit Thomas had chosen to wear earlier in the moring, still those nebulous images reached your brains with extreme delay, it was like watching vague movie scenes stream in slow motion. Your eyelids blinked as if a plumbeous burden was anchored to them, each flutter seemed to last a full minute, so that you perceived Tom coming to you in multiple shattered motions, while he kept calling you. The moment Tommy furiously jostled against Arthur, in order to take his place by the desk, you gradually went back to see and hear clearly, now being able to seize pure dread sailing those mesmerizing ocean eyes. “Thank goodness, y/n” His big palms envelopped both your cheeks, slightly squeezing them as he lift your neck, revealing all of his hidden delicacy that you, and you only, were able to bring out. “Y/n, love, talk to me” That order came out like a prayer, his voice betraying him once too often, his fingers shaking with worry, while one of his hands held your chin and the other went to caress your locks. Those loving strokes brushed against your skin, slowly infusing a little warmth into your gelid body, he touched you with the unbearable fear of watching you pass away in between his arms, having him struggle to breathe properly. “Do you hear me?” a single, salty drop fell from his long eyelashes and poured your lower lip, you heard his voice crack, distorting, until it became nothing more than a faint whine: “Please, love, talk to me” When his forehead pressed against yours, he finally gave in to the tears that had been held back with drastic ostination, shutting his eyes for a few instants he allowed brutal sobs to trounce his already aching chest. However, that moment of raw weakness was soon restrained, so that you returned to stare into his blue irises. Then, a small grin crossed your pale mouth and, even though your throat felt like gasoline on fire, preventing you from pronouncing a single syllable, you managed to guide your tiny hand to cup his sharp cheekbone. A burning kiss was pressed on its dorsum, before Tommy completely leant into your touch, giving you a look halfway between relief and disperation, he covered your hand with his own, holding it tight. “You’re okay, you’re safe” Those soft murmurs escaped his lips, probably aimed to placate the axphyziating terror still intoxicating his veins. Indeed, as hard as it was to conceive for everybody in that room, although you were the one just recovering from a sudden collapse, Tommy was now the one trembling like a fallen leaf, his arms rested on each side of your shape, sustaining his weight, as he barely stood on his own two feet. Slowly, you regained the necessary strenght to lift your bust, leading him to flutter in your direction, promptly enlacing his forearms around your waist in order to support your movements. “Hold onto me, darling, take it slow” His raspy voice was still unsteady and full of concern, he was holding his breath out of fear, gazing at you with wide eyes and tightening the grip on your hips as if to make sure that you wouldn’t vanish in his palms. You, on the other hand, gave him a rassuring smile, caressing his face mutliple times and placing a brief kiss on his mouth. “I’m fine, Tommy, I’m here with you” you eventually spoke close to his ear so to keep that conversation between the two of you “Let go, my love, I’m here” Your lips accidentally brushed against his forehead once he listened to you and abandoned himself to your tender embrace, gradually drowning into your soft chest while his arms clung on to your figure, his fingertips almost piercing the thick material of your dress as your cheek covered his head, totally annihilating the distance. “Don’t you ever do that to me again. Never again”.

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animalkingdom-an0nymous · 4 years ago

Text

False God- Sean Wallace

Disclaimer: No gifs or photos are mine unless stated otherwise.

Warning: A violent, smutty NSFW Sean Wallace fic. What if that last day ended differently? What if Sean made it out with his wounds? And what if there was someone from his childhood who haunted him just as much as he haunted her?

Subject: Sean X Y/N

Growing up, Sean Wallace and I were one in the same. We liked the same jokes, ate our peanut butter and jelly sandwiches cut the same way- in triangles- and our only real difference was that I was an American. Our fathers, both legendary crime bosses in their own right, were great business partners and made each other filthy rich. We were dangerously similar.

Until we weren’t.

I’d been in America when Finn Wallace was murdered, and I’d stayed in America during the aftermath. My father had cared deeply for Finn, but the world we lived in was fucking brutal, cold, and my dad would never risk my well being by allowing me to go to the UK to be with Sean.

Hearing about all of it had been a nightmare, though. Hearing about murders and the carnage, communities and families wiped out when Sean locked the city down. My heart ached for the boy I once knew and feared for the man that was, and then, just as quickly as it all blew up, the flames went out. All was quiet.

Sean Wallace was dead.

Or so the world thought. My father, who had an in with Billy and Jac, knew the truth. The Wallace family had connections within the police force- cliché, right?- and when a few of their own found him lying in a pool of his own blood, bleeding out from his fucking face, they quickly pronounced him dead at the scene. I didn’t know the ins and outs, didn’t care to, because the life I lived now was so far from the life I was forced to live as a child. All I knew was they got him out of there and Sean Wallace, as London knew him, was dead.

I needed him to stay that way.

It had been nearly a year since then, nearly a year since I last had the nerve to ask my dad about him. I think he knew how I felt, knew I had gone to great lengths to distance myself from him and my mother and the hellish, brutal life they created. But that didn’t mean my dad didn’t love me. I knew he did in his own, twisted way, and I knew he caught on to the hurt I felt whenever Sean’s name was mentioned.

So he stopped mentioning it.

Billy and Jac were stateside and living under different names, that much I knew. I had yet to see them, but I knew they were close enough to drive to because my mother had made sure to mention in her last email that their “home was beautiful and they think it was quite rude of you not to come around and visit, Y/N.”

It was bullshit. Billy and Jac didn’t feel any type of way about me, we were never close. That was reserved specifically for Sean and me. And look how well that turned out.

I was haunted by the ghost of a man I didn’t even know anymore.

He was labeled as a terrorist and maybe that’s what hurt more than anything. I could never scream from the rooftops how much I fucking loved him because that’s crazy. Because who could love a terrorist? Who could love a man that had murdered, cheated, stolen to get his way? And if I did love him, what kind of woman did that make me?

It was a thought that had been in my mind on replay all day long, the musings drifting into the night as I drove towards my childhood home. I had made the agreement with my parents- namely my father- that once a month I would return home for dinner. It was nearly a two hour drive but one that I committed to because if I didn’t I knew they would show up at my apartment. And what twenty-something year old woman wants her parents showing up at her apartment unannounced?

The gravel ground under my tires as I pulled my all black BMW into the driveway. It was already dark and I knew my mother would have something to say about me showing up late, but at least I showed up. Sure, I was still wearing the navy blue pantsuit I’d worn at work all day and I usually changed whenever I had dinner with them, but my mind was occupied tonight. By thoughts of Sean. By thoughts of Sean getting his face blown off. Did it hurt? Did he remember? Would I ever know?

My father met me at the door. Six foot three and wide like a linebacker, the man was not to be messed with. He was no nonsense and the only people he smiled at were me and the people he was going to shoot right before he shot them. You can do what you want with that information.

“My little angel,” he said and reached for me, taking both my hands in his and bringing them to his lips. It was a simple gesture but one he did every single time. It was the one constant my dad ever provided me. “How was the drive up?”

“Traffic wasn’t too bad tonight, but I ended up getting out a bit later than I thought I would.”

He swung an arm around me as we made our way through the marble foyer, my heels clacking against the floor. “My art gallery owner. Your mother and I are so proud of you.”

I raised my eyebrows. He was feeding me bullshit, both he and my mom wanted me in the family business more than anything, but from the time I could voice my opinion I let them know. No. I would be taking no part in the family business.

Not that I didn’t know my shit. I knew my way around a gun shop and had a better shot than half the men my dad hired to protect us. I hit harder than my first two boyfriends and let everyone know that my last name was still my last name and not to fuck with me. I knew I was untouchable.

That didn’t mean I was embracing the lifestyle.

“Yeah, business is going great, I even hired someone part-time to help out.”

“Background check?”

I rolled my eyes and laughed. “Of course.”

“Family ties?”

“Her name is Mindy and she’s from a farm in rural Kansas.”

He paused and raised his eyebrows, one of the rare times my father ever looked shocked. “She doesn’t even know what our last name holds, does she?”

I shook my head. “Not a clue.”

He laughed his hearty, deep chuckle and stopped us at the bar cart outside of the dining room. As always, he grabbed two tumblers and threw a handful of ice in each before adding to fingers of whiskey. Our favorite. One of our few commonalities. “Proud of you, kid.”

“Thanks, dad.”

I was about to ask him how his week was when my mother’s voice drifted in from the balcony. She liked to drink her wine out there at night, before dinner. Just one glass, but it was a ritual she followed religiously. Her voice was somewhat raspy, a little cold, and I could hear her laughter as though it was wrapping around me like a vine.

But that was the thing; my mother drank her wine outside alone. That was her time. So who was she laughing at?

I glanced over my shoulder at my father to find him looking as though he was at a loss for words. It was so rare that he was speechless, a man of his stature always held a level of composure that was sometimes shocking. But not this time.

“Dad, wha-“

“You’re going to want to finish that drink, angel.”

My blood ran cold at his words. His tone was low, suddenly serious. The lighthearted moment from before was gone, something dark and heavy in its place.

I should have listened to him and finished the drink because as soon as I turned around I was met with the coldest, most pristine set of blue eyes I’d ever seen. Eyes that I once swore I would drown in someday.

Sean Wallace was standing eight feet in front of me. It was the first time we had seen each other in years, the first time I’d seen him since he was… dead.

His face was… fucked. Marred by the bullet that ripped through his left cheek on that fateful day. The skin was raised, almost burn-like, and left a medium sized indent in what would otherwise be a perfectly symmetrical face. His left eyelid held a little lower and it looked like he tried to cover up the other, minor scars with the facial hair that littered his jaw and around his mouth.

But even with the new, broken face, Sean Wallace was still the most breathtaking man in the room. His suit was impeccable and fit him like a glove, the stormy gray matching the storm that seemed to be raging in his eyes. His tie was a navy that matched my own suit and it felt like the universe was pointing at me and laughing. It felt like that bitch was having the time of her life watching me suffer.

“I…” I started, unsure of how to finish.

“I didn’t mean to startle you. I know this” he held a hand up to his face “is a lot to take in.”

I already shook my head, my stomach turning at the thought of him thinking he was ugly. “No! No, I… I, I’m, I wasn’t-“

“Best private schools in the state and she still has that damn stutter.” My mother’s cutting voice ceased my own and I bit at the inside of my cheek. She came around the corner in all her glory, designer dress, perfect manicure and not a hair out of place.

She made me fucking sick.

“It’s nice to see you.” I finally managed to get the words out, although I didn’t know if I was talking to Sean or my mom.

“Jesus, Y/N, you couldn’t even change first?”

“I think she looks great.” Sean’s voice caught everyone off guard and even my mom turned to look at him. “Beautiful, really. You always looked great in a suit.”

I knew he was referring to my high school graduation. Sean was two years older and had flown in to see me graduate. My mom, ever the lady, was determined to force me into a nightmare of a ball gown while I wanted a simple, chic suit. Sean had been there for the entire screaming match, laughing at my mother as she tripped over the dress she had been hellbent on making me wear.

I couldn’t help the small smile that tugged my lips and nodded at him. “Thank you.”

He nodded in return and said nothing else.

“Let’s eat, shall we?” I felt my dad’s hand on my back as he ushered me into the dining room. My feet felt like stone blocks were attached to them as I walked, feeling Sean directly behind me with his eyes burning holes into my suit jacket.

We all sat in silence with the ghost of my past sitting directly across from me. Sean made no secret that he was staring at me and it reminded me of the ignorant young boy I once knew. Sean knew he was handsome, powerful, and could easily get his way. He held himself with the confidence of a man who had everything and it seemed a gunshot to the face didn’t change that.

“You’ve managed to stay under the radar.” I noted as one of the maids poured red wine into my glass.

“Y/N!” my mother scolded.

I raised my eyebrows and didn’t glance in her direction, my eyes holding Sean’s. “What? Are we supposed to sit here and pretend everything is normal? You want me to ask him about the weather?”

“Y/N…” my father’s tone held a warning in it.

“No, she’s right.” Sean spoke up as I took a hearty gulp of wine. “Facial reconstruction had me laid up for a bit. Reconstructing an entire cheekbone can be tricky. And expensive.”

I nodded. “Especially when the entire cheekbone belongs to a dead man.”

The room fell quiet with even the staff scurrying to disappear. My mother was glaring at me and I was sure my father was too, but I didn’t care. I’d spent my entire childhood and teen years caring about and loving Sean only for him to cut me off when he became Finn’s minion and then fake his own fucking death a few years after. He got so caught up in the Wallace life, in the life I thought we both hated, that he forgot about me. And I was angry about it.

“I deserve that.” His accent was the same as always. Smooth. Elegant. The best that private school could buy. “I should have reached out sooner as I knew my siblings were in touch.”

My mother, the martyr, was quick to reassure him. “Sweetheart, you don’t owe us anything. We’re just so happy you’re alright.”

She was so warm with him, a complete contrast to how she acted with me. It was a constant reminder that she always wanted a son and ended up with me instead.

My father opened his mouth to speak when his right hand, Marcus, walked in with a phone in his hand. His face looked pinched, stressed, and my father immediately stood. “Excuse me.”

Sean nodded politely and turned to my mother, but she was already standing and following behind dad, sensing his stress.

“Should we be concerned?”

I shook my head, my eyes still trained in the doorway. “I doubt it.”

Things were quiet then. Too fucking quiet. So quiet I felt like I was suffocating. I took a sip of wine. Then another. Another until my glass was empty and the bottle was taunting me from the center of the table.

“You have every right to be angry.”

“I’m not angry.” I was instantly defensive.

His smile was small, but it was there. “You always were a shit liar.”

“You were always a good one.”

His smile disappeared then and I was soon sitting across from the gangster that was always lurking underneath. Sean could do cool, calm, and collected. But he could only hide the angry, arrogant Wallace traits for so long.

“I… can’t remember the last time we were face to face.”

I shrugged my shoulders, suddenly uncomfortable. “Christmas. Six years ago. Kingston.”

His smile- God, that fucking smile- reappeared. “You threw a drink in my face.”

“You called me a spoiled fucking twat.”

“You were acting like one.”

Now it was my turn to smile. I didn’t want to, but I couldn’t help it. My early twenties were filled with vodka soda fueled arguments and boyfriends that my family- and Sean- hated. I was so different, that girl doesn’t even seem real anymore.

I was about to respond when I heard shouting coming from down the hall. My father’s office.

Sean and I stood at the same time, both of us sensing a certain level of danger. My father rarely ever shouted, it had to be something catastrophic for him to raise his voice like that.

Entering the hall, I quickly grabbed my bag next to the bar cart and produced my glock before tucking it into my waistband. Sean watched me silently the entire time. He was getting a little too comfortable with staring at me.

“Always prepared.”

“Family business, right?” I shot back at him over my shoulder as we neared my father’s study.

“No, no, fucking No! What do you mean they’re all dead? An entire fucking warehouse of people and they’re all fucking dead?”

My heart stopped in my chest. That was… impossible. The warehouses were untouchable, no one knew where they were unless they were part of our inner circle. Our microscopic inner circle. Which could only mean one thing…

It was an inside job.

“Fuck.” I spat. “Fuck, fuck, fuck!”

“Y/N, something’s happened.” My mother appeared in the doorway as we approached.

“Who did it?” I asked, getting straight to the point. “Any ideas?”

My dad was seated behind his wooden desk, a desk so large it was fit for a king. When I was a child I would spend hours in there reading on the stuffed leather couch while he worked silently. It was one of the few places I felt “safe” growing up.

“Kensington’s dead.” Our eyes met.

Rodger Kensington was my father’s longtime business partner and someone who was like an uncle to me. He’d been there at my prom, my graduation, and when I took my first steps. He was… family.

“Shit.” Sean’s word was quick and quiet, but then I remembered he knew Rodger too, and he knew what this meant.

“What about Sherry? The kids?” I was desperate to make sure their little ones were alright, they were all so young.

“They’re fine. They weren’t home, they-“

My father never got the words out as one of the staff walked in. I had turned at the sound of him entering the room, just barely meeting his eye as he raised his arm, a small handgun pointed directly at the man whose home we were in.

“Y/N!” My mother screaming my name like that would haunt my nightmares for months after.

A single shot rang out and my ears rang, a gasp leaving my lips as I reached for the gun in my waistband. But it wasn’t there.

The man was dead, a gunshot to the temple with crimson blood spilling all over the Italian wood floors. And then there was Sean, standing at my side with my gun pointed straight ahead, a dead look in his eyes.

It was all dangerously quiet and I could hear my own heartbeat, but only for a moment. Because as soon as I took a single breath, shit hit the fan.

My mother released a blood curdling scream, Marcus rushing to her side and grabbing her as she collapsed. My father, stoic, stood and walked over to the wardrobe near the window, swiftly pulling out guns and rounds of ammo. More security rushed in and I stood next to Sean, everything moving in slow motion. I could hear voices, hear my dad barking commands at his security who acted like his soldiers.

“There’s blood on my shoes.”

“What?”

What? Did I just say there was blood on my shoes? But it was true. My expensive cream suede shoes had blood splatter on them and I was ninety percent sure there was bone fragment near my heel.

“Blood. On my shoes.” My voice sounded far away.

Sean was suddenly in front of me and tucking my gun back into my waist while everyone shouted around us. “I’ll buy you a new pair. Bought them at the store on fifth, yeah?”

“How the fuck did you-“ I stopped, putting two and two together. “Have you been watching me?”

Sean’s face changed then and he straightened his shoulders. Our height nearly matched but only because of my heels, and I knew his gesture was dominant, authoritative. “I promise we can talk about that later, but-“

I pushed past him and walked towards my father who was barking orders into a phone. “Did you have Sean keep tabs on me?”

“Y/N, this isn’t the time for you to complain about your independence.”

I slammed my hand down on the wooden desk the same way I had watched him do it so. Many. Times. “Answer me!”

My father, all six foot three of him, stood tall and looked over me even with a desk separating us. “Watch yourself, young lady.”

“What the fuck is going on that you hired someone to watch me? That you hired Sean to watch me? What aren’t you telling me?”

He paused for the briefest of moments while everyone moved around us. I could hear safeties being turned off, my mom screaming down the hallway, and feel Sean standing close enough that I could smell his cologne.

“I’ve known for a bit that someone on the inside was giving information to Merkov brothers. Rodger and I spent months sifting through the weeds trying to figure out who it was. We had a break last night, I was going to tell you everything-“

“Four black SUV’s were spotted five miles from the property. Moving quickly. We need to go.” Marcus had appeared in the doorway sans my mother, his face wiped of anything sort of emotion. In fact, Marcus may have been the most emotionless man I had ever come into contact with. I would even venture to call him heartless.

“Shit.” My dad scrubbed a hand over his face. “I promise I will tell you everything, angel.” He looked at me, the desk separating us. “But right now you need to go and it can’t be back to your apartment.”

“Dad, I…” I had no idea what to say. I couldn’t go back to my apartment in the city, there was most definitely a hit out on my family, including myself, and Sean Wallace was back from the fucking dead. My day was going from bad to worse, my life blowing up in a twenty minute time span.

But I knew my last name, knew the weight it carried. I knew I had a certain responsibility to handle my shit and handle it well, with my shoulders back and my chin up.

“Where am I going?”

He was already on the move and I was on his heels, following him down the winding hallways of the home I grew up in. It was the same house that was sure to be shot to shit as soon as those SUV’s showed up.

“Harbor House.” He barked over his shoulder. “You can drive down there in the charger. Tinted windows. Marcus, have Anthony load a bag into the car. Ammo, guns, everything she’ll need.”

“No one knows where Harbor House is except us.” I reminded him. His business partners may have known about the warehouses and my father’s permanent residence, but Harbor House was for family and family alone.

“I’m not taking any chances, Y/N, not with you. Sean will accompany you and you’ll stay there until you hear from me. I’ll call-“

“What?” I cut him off. “Sean’s not coming with me.”

“I’m not taking any chances with you.” He repeated.

“I don’t need a babysitter.”

Sean cleared his throat behind me and I refused to look at him. I knew he was offended by what I’d said, but quite honestly I was offended by everything he had done since stepping foot in my parents’ home that day.

“This isn’t about what you need or want, Y/N. He’s going with you.”

I was about to fully lose my temper when shots rang out through the house. I reached for my glock and turned the safety off, immediately ducking behind a marble pillar with Sean’s hand on my elbow, holding me still.

There was yelling and gunshots, some of the housekeepers screaming bloody murder from the second and third floors. There was no way those SUV’s were already on the property, no way. It had to be someone else.

Someone had burned our entire fucking family.

“Dad!” I yelled as a bullet whirred past my head.

“Y/N, go! Now!” I could hear him but I couldn’t fucking see him. Marco was beating the shit out of a man dressed all in black, ripping his gun away and firing off a round into his chest. The smell of blood and gunpowder burned my nostrils and I winced.

“I’m not leaving you!” I screamed so loud my voice cracked.

“Sean!” My father shouted. “Get her the fuck out of here! Get her out now, kid! Now!”

I glanced over at Sean, warning him with my eyes not to touch me, but it was too late. He ripped the gun from my hand and wrapped an arm around my waist, tugging me backwards.

“Sean, no!” I screamed, trying to pull away.

“We have to go, Y/N.” He dragged me down the hall while I fought him the whole way , dragging my feet and scratching at the suit clad arm wrapped around my waist. He finally stopped at the side door at the end of the hall and yanked it open before tossing me in.

I stumbled across the cold concrete of the garage and caught myself against the car I was supposed to be leaving in.

Sean locked the door behind him and turned to me, my gun still in his hand. “In.” He motioned to the car.

Still the same, bossy man he always was. Without responding, I turned and made my way across the expansive garage, shoving a table out of the way and yanking open the drawers of a metal cabinet.

“Y/N!” Sean was losing his temper and we were losing time.

“You took my gun!” I finally screamed back, practically growling at him as I picked up twin Berettas and tucked them into the back of my waistband. I grabbed a rifle to throw into the backseat, and one more Glock since Sean had unceremoniously stolen mine and left me empty handed.

He was staring at me as I made my way back to the car, his chest heaving. God, he still looked good. A gunshot to the face only amplified how rough and beautiful he was. Dumb fucking asshole and his dumb fucking face.

I grabbed the keys from the wall and tossed them to Sean who caught them with one hand.

Show off, I thought to myself sullenly as I got into the passenger side, my heart leaping out of my chest. I was about to leave my parents to potentially die. My childhood home was being torn apart, half the staff that knew me since I was a child were now lying dead in the same house they’d dedicated their lives to. It made me sick.

“Just focus on driving.” I told him as the garage door began to rise. I could already see the shadows of feet on the concrete leaned halfway out the window, my nine millimeter raised. One shot to the knee and a man fell, a second shot between the eyes and he was done.

The second man was smart, moved off to the side and just out of aim, and Sean floored the gas pedal while I kept watch.

“Your left.” I said quietly and pointed the gun in front of him, sending shots flying out of the driver’s side door, taking out the second man who had been waiting for us.

“Three of them in front of the gate.” Sean nodded towards the gate at the side of the property, all of them holding assault rifles and aiming at us. “Duck.” he commanded with the car still in reverse.

“What?”

“Duck.” I felt his hand grab at the back of my head he shoved me down, my forehead nearly knocking against my knee as he picked up speed. A loud blast blew out the back windshield and then there was a loud, violent thunk.

His wide palm was still resting on the back of my head, grip so tight it made my scalp prickle in a way that annoyed me. My body had no business getting turned on while in the midst of this shit.

When the tires squealed against the gravel and we went surging forward, I sat back up. I could see smoke coming out of the windows, bullet holes in the brick and mortar. It was a fucking war zone and we were on our way out, leaving behind my family and any shred of sanity I had left.

Fuck.

* * * * * *

The ride to Harbor House was almost completely silent. Sean, ever the Brit, would curse out other drivers every now and then even though ninety percent of the mistakes were his own. Maybe I should have insisted on driving, but at the time the only thing I could think about was whether or not my parents got out.

Although we were never close, I didn’t wish death on my parents. Sure, I resented them for bringing me up in a life of chaos and violence and I’m well aware they caused me a lifetime of trauma, but that didn’t mean I wanted them dead. Definitely not murdered.

It was nearly midnight by the time we arrived. Harbor House was in an exclusive neighborhood and every home had a gate. It had been years since I was last at the house, but it held the only fond memories from my childhood. Harbor House and the Wallace house always felt like home to me. Strange that I was sitting next to a Wallace and not a single shred of me felt comfortable or at home. It was strange, when we were kids he was always my safe space.

I punched in the code and black iron gates opened up, promptly closing with a loud clang behind us. The property itself was a sprawling estate with a two floor home as well as a large yard, pool, and separate guest house. It was on the edge of a cliff and overlooked the Atlantic. Isolated. Safe. Private. The kind of place my family relied on to keep us safe.

“Pull the car into the garage, we’ll get a rental tomorrow.” My voice was monotonous. I felt so drained of every emotion other than pure exhaustion. I was covered in blood, my clothes smelled like gunpowder and sweat, I needed a hot shower.

Sean silently pulled into the garage and killed the engine. We sat there quietly for a moment, so quiet I couldn’t even hear him breathing. If he had any blood on him, I couldn’t tell. From this angle he looked every bit the GQ model. It was only when he turned his face to look at me that I got a glimpse of the mauled left half and got angry all over again.

I was angry at my parents for birthing me into this.

I was angry at whoever burned us.

I was angry at Sean for disappearing from my life in favor of violence. But I was so fucking angry that he had let it go so far that the world thought he was dead.

I almost wished he was.

“There’s five bedrooms. I trust that you’ll find one far away from me?” I phrased it like a question but we both knew it wasn’t.

He gave a curt nod.

The house was exactly as I remembered it. It even smelled the same. Hardwood floors, light walls, French doors leading to a beautiful deck. A kitchen so modern it would make Gordon Ramsey cream his pants. It was the homiest home my family had. It was my haven.

Only now Sean was here to cast a shadow over it.

“There’s plenty of clothes in all the guest bedrooms. My parents like to be prepared for every emergency, you know that.”

Sean nodded as he closed the door that connected to the garage. He locked it and was quick to set the code. The code that he definitely shouldn’t have had.

“How did you-“

“Your father.”

I raised my eyebrows incredulously. “My father gave you the codes to Harbor House?”

He sucked his bottom lip into his mouth, eyes narrowing. “He gave me the code for the gate too, but I was polite enough to let you do it. That’s something, innit?”

He was being a smart ass, pushing my buttons on purpose simply because he could. Or because he’d had enough of my attitude. Either way, I wasn’t having it.

“You must be so fuckin’ proud of yourself. You still have an in with my father even after the shit you pulled in London. My father, Sean, not me. You don’t have shit with me and you made that perfectly clear.”

He squared his shoulders and I couldn’t help but roll my eyes as I sat on the edge of a beautiful cream colored sofa. I couldn’t wait to sink into it tomorrow with a good book.

I quickly fingered at the straps on my heels and kicked them off while mentally preparing for whatever speech he was about to throw my way.

“I’ve really had enough of you talking to me like I’m some shit person. Enough, Y/N.”

I stood back up, hating that I was smaller than him now as I turned on my heel and headed up the stairs. “If you hate my attitude so much then leave me the fuck alone and let me take a shower in peace.”

* * * * *

My shower was hot and relaxing and everything I needed. As soon as the steam surrounded me, I was able to calm down a bit, and once the hot water hit my skin I was able to sigh in relief. Washing off the blood and grime left me feeling like a whole new woman.

So new, in fact, I briefly forgot about the bane of my existence showering down the hall.

Sean. Showering. Sean in the shower with water dripping down his chest and into that perfect V of his hips. Sean’s hot, wet body pressed against mine. Sean’s-

“Can you not?” I said to my reflection as I ran a brush through my hair. Even when I was angry at him, violently angry, it was impossible to deny that he was attractive.

We never hooked up, not even when we were young. But there was always something there. We flirted. We toyed with each other. We got into nasty arguments. People noticed, my friends made comments. I always ignored them and played it off and said it was because we knew each other forever and just connected that way. They all argued that it was more.

I ignored them.

After changing into a comfortable pair of loose cotton pants and a long sleeved shirt, I made my way downstairs. The windows were open and I could hear the waves crashing against the cliff side. My favorite sound. It gave me peace. It soothed me.

The kitchen was empty and I grabbed a bottle of red wine with every intention of drinking the entire bottle. After pouring a rather large amount into the pristine crystal stemware my mother bought, I threw my head back and took a long, large sip.

Ugh. That’s better. I closed my eyes and took another sip, getting lost in the sound of the waves and the dark, cherry taste of the wine. A moment of peace after all the bullshit I had to endure tonight.

It was only when Sean cleared his throat that I realized I wasn’t alone. He was standing at the bottom of the stairs wearing black sweats and a white t-shirt. Simple. Clean. Comfortable. If this had been a few years ago I would have been aching to curl up against him.

“Kitchen’s all yours,” I said as I grabbed my glass and bottle, preparing to go out back.

“You told me you didn’t want to talk to me anymore.” His words cut like a knife to my retreating back and it made me pause, not yet turning around. “You fucking told me you were done.”

I knew what he was referring to. The last time we spoke had been over the phone, maybe four years ago. It had been a normal night with normal conversation and normal “I miss yous”. Sean had truly been one of my best friends and closest confidants. And then the conversation turned ugly when he informed me his father was sending him out on a seriously violent, potentially fatal, mission. Our argument had gotten vile and I said horrible things. He did too, including telling me to “stop acting like a girlfriend because you’re so fucking lonely”.

That had been my breaking point. He reminded me so much of Finn then. He dressed like him, spoke like him, became a carbon copy of him, and I was having none of it. So I had told him to fuck off and lose my number, to never call me again, to pretend I was dead.

It was the one time Sean listened to me and the one time I wished he hadn’t.

To this day, I got embarrassed when I thought about what he had said to me. The way he screamed and the way he humiliated me. Maybe I was lonely, maybe it came off as clingy, but my intentions were always good and I never thought I was a burden to him. But after that last conversation I spent years telling myself that’s exactly what I was. A burden. I checked in too much, my double texting him probably got on his nerves. Constantly complaining about our families when I knew how fortunate I was to live such a lavish life made me sound spoiled, he got tired of it. I spent years convincing myself there was no possible way he missed me and I didn’t miss him either.

“Do you even remember our last conversation?” I turned slowly to face him. “Do you remember what you said?”

He took a step forward and scrubbed a hand over his face. “Of course I do. I’ve had plenty of time to think about it- you. I’d been out drinking with my father-“

“And then turned into him?”

“Oh, fuck off then.” He shook his head, his frustration evident as he rounded the marble island in the kitchen. An expert, he seemed to know where everything was. The glasses. The whiskey.

“I’m not wrong.” I defended myself.

Sean laughed and the sound was hollow, sarcastic. He took a sip of whiskey before turning to me with a cold look in his eyes. “And I wasn’t wrong that day either. Was I?”

I scowled at him to mask the absolute hurt I was experiencing. My heart ached. He’d known he was hurting me. He didn’t care. He remembered and he didn’t care.

“Oh, fuck you, Sean.” I whispered before quickly pushing through the french doors and stepping onto the deck.

“Oi!” Sean shouted as I slammed the doors behind me, taking off down the steps, wine glass in hand.

“I’m not done talking to you.” Sean was hot on my heels.

“The conversation is over.”

“Like hell it is.” I felt long, thick fingers curl around my elbow and then he was hauling me back against him. “You say what you want to say and then think we’re done. We’re not.”

I ripped my arm back and shoved my finger in his face. “I’ve waited four years to say this shit to you!”

“So have I!” He shouted back, the vein in his neck becoming prominent. The female part of my brain wondered what it would feel like to run my tongue along that vein, feel it pulse against my mouth.

Wrong time, I thought to myself and shook my head. “You fucked off for four years, faked your own death, and now I found out my father has had you following me. I don’t know what kind of weird, stalker fetish you’ve developed, but it’s really not doing anything for me.”

Okay, maybe that last part was flat out bitchy, but at that point I didn’t care.

I drained my wine glass while I waited for his response.

“Would you like to tell me about your fetishes?”

“Sure, they all involve watching you bleed out.”

“Should have been there a year ago then, yeah?”

I didn’t have a response for that. I zeroed in on the left half of his face, the scar on his cheek. His cheekbone curved differently, probably because it was handmade, and his scar disappeared into his stubble. He looked so vastly different from the Sean I used to know. He was hardened by life, by Finn’s life. Thirty and angry and alone and legally dead.

I ached for the Sean I once knew, but this wasn’t him.

“How long have you been watching me?”

“A little more than three months.”

“Three months?” I was shocked. I’d had a tail for three months and I didn’t even know it? How embarrassing.

“You wouldn’t have known.” It was as though he could read my mind. “I’ve always been better at it than you.”

“You’re so fucking cocky.” I didn’t know whether to laugh, cry, or slap him, so instead I walked past him and back up the stairs, making my way back into the house to refill my glass. I knew he was following me, knew that the alcohol in my bloodstream was making me feel bold, more bold than I was sober.

Sean closed the French doors, the lock clicking with a tone of finality. I was too aware of it.

“You were shit as hide and seek when we were kids.”

“So that makes you a better spy?”

His tone was serious when he responded. “I was never spying on you. I didn’t have access to your flat. I didn’t follow you around with that ugly wanker with gray hair.”

“Leave Beckett out of this.”

“Beckett?” It was the first time his face had resembled something other than anger. He looked amused. “You’re dating a man named Beckett?”

I cocked my head to the side, narrowing my eyes. “We actually aren’t discussing my dating life, we’re talking about my stalker.”

“Stop saying that. It was to and from work. Only when you were out in public.”

“That doesn’t make it okay!” I finally shouted. None of what happened today was okay. Sean, my dad, the shootout. None of it was okay. “You don’t get to keep up with my fucking life when I have to pretend you’re dead!”

“Lower your voice.” Sean took a step forward.

“Fuck off!” I shouted even louder than before. “You don’t get to just come back and bark orders at me. This isn’t London, Sean!”

“Enough.” He took another step forward and I backed up, reaching for my wine glass.

He was so calm, so fucking collected while I was beginning to fall apart. I hated him for it. Fuck Sean Wallace, I wanted him to hurt the way I did. So, without thinking twice, I hurled my glass at him. Sean barely dodged it, whipping his head to the side as it soared past him and landed on the floor in a million little pieces.

He was a blur as he flew across the kitchen, growling as he slammed my back up against the wall. I cried out as searing pain sent shock waves down my back, but I was too angry to focus on it. My hands instantly went into fight mode and my fingers caught the tip of his nose as I swiped at him, but he pulled his head back, out of my reach.

“Are you out of your fucking mind?” He roared in my face. “Are you bloody mental?” His hands circled my wrists and he pinned them at my sides, effectively halting my movements.

Stuck between Sean and the wall, I suddenly couldn’t breathe. “Let me go.”

“The fuck I will.” He squeezed my wrists harder.

“Sean.” I shoved myself against him and he did the same thing, his face even closer than before. I could smell the whiskey on his breath, see the smattering of freckles across his nose and cheeks. God, he was a sight. “Fuck. Off.”

His eyes zeroed in on my mouth as I enunciated the words, nostrils flaring slightly. My breasts were pressed against his chest and I couldn’t move even if I wanted to, because suddenly we were staring each other eye to eye and I couldn’t look anywhere else. I was drowning the way I always imagine I would except this time I didn’t want it. I wanted no part of it.

“Don’t even think about it.” I whispered softly.

“Or what?” Sean’s remark felt snide and childish, something I would have happily said to him had he not leaned down and slid his lips over mine. It was a light touch, so soft I barely felt it. But I still gasped because it was Sean’s lips touching mine and I hated that I liked it so much.

At the sound of my sharp intake of breath, he smirked. “I fucking knew it.” And then he smashed his lips against mine, not letting up on the grip he had on my wrists.

Sean’s tongue pushed past my lips and slid against mine, weakening my reserve just a bit. He tasted good, his scruff scratched against the edges of my mouth and I reveled in it, loving how rough he felt.

He fucking engulfed my mouth, taking complete control of the kiss and demanding that I give him more. Forgetting the position we were in, he let go of my wrists in favor of cupping my face, wide palms against my cheeks.

I should have pushed him away, should have told him to leave, but the simple truth was that Sean Wallace knew how to kiss. He kissed like a man, held my face, stroked rough thumbs over my cheekbones, and swallowed my moans. He crowded me, stood so close our torsos were touching while we made out against the kitchen wall. Our tongues touched, teeth clashed, and when I sucked Sean’s bottom lip into my mouth the groan he let out was guttural. Animalistic.

But the noise was enough to bring me back to reality and I shoved my hands against his chest, pushing him away from me as hard as I could.

Sean stumbled back and caught himself on the counter. He was just as caught up as I was, his eyes wild, cheeks flushed red.

“You’ve got some nerve.” I cleared my throat and wiped my mouth, still tasting him on my tongue.

“Me?” He had the audacity to smile, still clearly fired up. “You were the one sucking my lip like it was my cock.”

My cheeks felt hot. The way he said cock with the accent and the smirk… it murdered me on the inside. It absolutely killed me how good it sounded. “You wish.”

“Every fucking night.” Sean stepped forward again. “I think about you sucking my cock every. Fucking. Night.”

His admission left me breathless. It felt like someone had knocked the wind out of me. The thought of Sean laying in bed at night and thinking about my mouth wrapped around his dick lit me up. I was hot everywhere.

“Sean-“

“Shut the fuck up.” He crowded me again, this time wrapping one arm around my back and pulling me against him. “For once in your life, please, Y/N, shut the fuck up.”

Cupping the back of my head, Sean kissed me again. I wanted to fight him, wanted to tell him to fuck off, but that would only prove him right. I really did have a problem with shutting the fuck up.

So, I kissed him back. I gave it my all, twining my arms around his neck and leaning against him. Sean tongue fucked my mouth as though he’d been dying to for years, and after his admission I wondered if he had. His body felt warm against mine and feeling his fingertips glide along the exposed area of my lower back made my knees nearly buckle.

He smiled against my mouth and before I knew it, Sean was sliding both hands down, gripping my hips and hoisting me in the air. My legs locked around his waist instantly, ankles crossing at the small of his back while he carried me through the kitchen.

Our mouths never stopped touching. I’d been waiting years to kiss Sean. I’d been waiting years to slap the fuck out of him as well, but right now the only thing I cared about was keeping our mouths fused together for as long as humanly possible. I felt drunk on him, on the taste of whiskey on his tongue.

I didn’t realize we were in the living room until Sean sat down on the couch with me straddling his lap. I took the opportunity to pull back slightly, his lips chasing my own, and I smiled at the way he leaned forward. I cupped the right side of his face, loving the way his scruff felt against my soft palm. He truly was beautiful, the red-brown hair and beard, the plump mouth that spent more time scowling than smiling. His freckles, God, when we were young I could have spent hours counting them.

And then there was that scar. That brutal, obvious scar. The trauma his body must have gone through made me sick and when I reached up to run my fingers over the jagged, raised skin, Sean was quick to grab my wrist in a bruising grip.

“Don’t touch me there.”

But I wanted to. So badly. But it was clear in his reaction, in the stiffness of his body, that he was serious. Of all the limits Sean DIDN’T have, touching the left side of his face was one of them and I had no choice but to respect it.

“Fine, how about you touch me then?”

It was all the incentive Sean needed and he flipped me onto my back, hovering over me with one hand braces on the back of the couch. Our eyes held as I slid my hands down his chest, his heartbeat pulsing under my hand as I slid lower, lower still until I gripped the hem of his shirt and yanked it up. He leaned back, only for a moment to rip the shirt off his head and send it flying.

Fair skinned with broad shoulders and a tapered waist, I itched to lick the V that disappeared into his waistband. He may have been injured, but he hasn’t been resting this last year. Sean didn’t have the body of a man who rested, he had the Jody of a man who was constantly pushing himself. He was strong in every sense of the word and it made me pathetically, desperately wet for him.

“Your turn,” he said against my lips, fingers playing under my shirt and sliding along my ribs. “You’re so fucking soft.” He whispered against the skin of my cheek.

Unable to help myself, I reached down to cup him through his sweats. Jesus… Christ. “You’re so fucking not.”

Sean laughed then, but I was dead serious. Either Sean was hiding a gun in his pants or his cock was just that fucking solid. And… thick. Even through his pants I could tell. I squeezed once and he let out a guttural groan, the sound sending shock waves between my legs. I wanted that sound on a loop for the rest of my life.

He pushed my shirt up and over my head, eyes zeroing in on my breasts. “Fuck me…” He trailed off, cupping one in his hand and giving a firm squeeze as he settled his eight between my legs. I could feel him against my clit even with barriers of clothing separating us.

“I always wondered what your nipples looked like.” He licked one gently and my back arched hard, my whole body tightening. “They’re so much better than my imagination.”

Sean fastened his mouth against my nipple and he sucked, flicking his tongue against the sensitive bud while I writhed underneath him. My nails scraped through his shirt hair, digging into his scalp and holding him against me. He said he had wondered what they would look like, but I spent the better part of a decade wondering what this would feel like.

Fuck, it felt good.

Sean’s hips ground against mine as he moved to my other nipple, hands roaming felt over my body, gripping my clothes thighs and sliding up my sides. Tracing along my collarbone, fingers tugging at the nipple that wasn’t getting any attention.

I felt like a horny teenager, aching to have him inside me as fast as humanly possible. My nails raked over his shoulders and he gave a delicious growl in return, leaning up and hovering over me again.

“I’ve thought about your mouth on my cock for ages, but right now the only thing I want is to be buried inside you. That okay?”

I was modding before he even finished speaking. Fuck a blowjob, fuck foreplay. I didn’t need that with Sean, not now. Right now I just needed… connection. I was almost desperate for it and it fucking terrified me.

Sean leaned back on his knees and hooked his fingers into my pants, tugging them down in one swift move and leaving me completely naked and sprawled out in front of him. His eyes raked over me and my breath hitched in my throat. He could see… everything.

“Fuck me… this body was fucking made for me.”

I couldn’t help but laugh, wiggling my brows. “A bit cocky, yeah?”

“No.” His face was serious, eyes focused as they raked over my breasts, my hips, my legs, zeroing in on the spot between my thighs. Sean slid one long, thick finger over my slit and I cried out, my body stiffening. “I knew you’d be bald here.” He repeated the motion. “Been dying to see that tattoo on your thigh for ages.”

I’d gotten the tattoo when I was 20 and officially moved out of my parents house. It was one of those stupid young decisions, but I didn’t regret it. It was a snake that wrapped all the way around my right thigh, the snake’s tongue permanently engraved on my inner thigh like an invitation. Or a warning.

“And?” I asked inquisitively, rubbing a hand absentmindedly down my stomach.

“And I think this body was fucking made for me.”

His lips came crashing down on mine again and I wrapped my bare legs around his waist, loving the way his hip bones pressed into my thighs. He littered kisses over my cheekbone, an oddly sweet gesture, and then absolutely assaulted my neck, licking and biting and nipping at my collarbone until I cried out.

I reached down, yanking at his sweats and pushing them down his thighs with my heels. I was fucking dying for Sean Wallace to be inside of me, I couldn’t even breathe because I wanted him so badly. Needed him, needed to know what it was like to feel him.

“Sean.” I gasped as he braced one hand above my head, the other one gripping his cock and lining it up at my entrance. I gripped his bicep when he pushed the tip in, my nails digging half crescents into his skin.

“Sean.” I repeated his name, this time somewhat panicked because what the fuck was I doing? Was I really about to fuck him?

“Remember when I told you to shut the fuck up?” Sean’s eyes met mine and he gave one sharp, hard thrust and was suddenly inside me so deep I swore I could feel him in my cervix.

I didn’t even have time to gasp, my mouth fell open in a silent scream and Sean’s groan was something I’d think about for months. He was so deep I felt as though I couldn’t breathe, looking up at him completely frozen.

“Oh, fuck.” He finally breathed out. “That’s right, so good you can’t even speak.”

“I… hate you.” I finally managed, leaning up and catching his bottom lip between my teeth, tugging so hard he let out a groan of pain.

“You don’t hate me.” Sean pulled nearly all the way out before slamming back inside me, giving me no warning or time to breathe. But the yelp I let out was enough to make him smirk.

Cocky bastard.

Fine, I could play. Tightening my legs around his waist, I raked my nails down his back and watched his face change, jaw clenching tight. I licked his collarbone before sucking the skin there. I sucked hard and didn’t stop until I felt his fingers tangle in my hair and yank me back, forcing me to look at him.

“You’re not the fucking boss right now.” He practically growled the words, not letting up on the grip on my hair. He pumped in and out of me, my scalp pricking with a weird, pleasurable pain that left me moaning for more.

Sean’s thrusts got harder and I cried out when he hit that spot, so deep I could feel him everywhere. “Sean!” I cried his name, my breath hitching in my throat.

He let my hair go in favor of those perfect ducking fingers wrapping around my throat. His thumb pressed firmly under my jaw, I had no other choice but to look at him as he fucked me into oblivion.

“Fuck, I missed you.” He groaned, pressure on my throat tightening just a bit. “Thought about you every fucking day.”

I was instantly thrown back into reality. Everything that happened that day. The shooting. Sean coming back from the dead, all of it.

“Nope, stay with me.” Sean commanded, sensing my disconnect. He slowed his thrusts leaning down to lick at my lips lightly. It was oddly erotic and I found myself whimpering for more. “That’s it, relax for me.”

“I…” I started desperately. “I can’t. Sean-“

He squeezed my throat harder and I suddenly gasped, my air being cut off. “Relax.” His voice was oddly soothing. “You can still breathe.”

I shook my head.

He paused his thrusts, once again settling deep inside me with my legs splayed. “Yes, you can. I’m not squeezing that hard. Breathe.”

I took in a breath. It was shallow, but it was there. Letting it out slowly, I repeated the motion, Sean catching on and thrusting every time I exhaled. It all felt different like this, barely able to breathe and dripping wet onto the couch. I’d never wanted someone more and I was terrified, I’d never been “handled” the way he was handling me, treating me like I was his.

“Been waiting years to feel you come on my cock.” He groaned when he released my throat, leaning back on his heels and looking down at where we were connected. “God, you’re soaked. Made a proper mess all over me.”

I moaned because at that point words were not possible. My stomach felt tight, I felt like I was going to cry or laugh or scream. I felt like I was going crazy.

And then Sean rubbed his thumb over my clit, watching me jerk, and I knew I was done for. He did it again and again, giving me shallow strokes while he rubbed the little bundle of nerves that were certainly going to send me into a tailspin.

“Sean, please.” My back arched and I shouted, so fucking close, teetering on the edge.

“Come all over my cock so I can watch you lick it off after.”

My mouth fell open and I screamed his name, my orgasm hitting me like a ton of bricks. I squeezed my eyes shut, feeling Sean lean over me and wrap an arm around my back.

He picked up the pace while I clung to him, whispering in my ear about how he’d wanted it forever, how this was his, how I was his. It was overwhelming, yet I couldn’t bring myself to do anything other than rake my nails through his hair and whisper his name over and over again in his ear.

“Fuck.” Sean’s groan was long and low, stroking into me one, two, three more times before holding himself still, his climax hitting him as hard as mine hit me.

His arms shook as he held himself over me, eventually collapsing onto my chest in a huff. We sat there silently, the sound of the waves crashing against the cliff side lulling us. Sean’s right cheek was pressed against my breast and his dick was still inside me. He was as close as he could possibly be but I somehow wanted him closer. I wanted to fucking absorb him into my body, keep him there forever and enjoy the weight of him on me.

“Sean?” I whispered, wondering if he was still awake.

“Hm?”

I ran my fingers lightly over the back of his neck and delighted in his shiver. “I’m really glad you’re not dead.”

He lifted his head then, searching my face for some sort of emotion, but I forced myself to remain stoic. It took Sean fucking my brains out for me to realize how much I missed him. How much I fucking loved him. But I couldn’t tell him that, I couldn’t give him that much power over me.

“Today was the first time in a year that I was thankful that bullet didn’t kill me.” Sean’s words were honest, quiet.

We didn’t say anything after that, we didn’t really need to. In that moment we were safe, together after years of being apart, and now all we had to do was wait for word from my father. Until then, I was going to enjoy whatever time I had with Sean and I prayed I would never have to pretend he was dead again.

#joe cole #sean wallace #gangs of london #gol #smut #fic

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queermikewheeler · 2 years ago

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looking at the post below and I am Thinking so hard rn. starting to believe that Finn is doing smth so subtle that it's completely flying under the Duffers' radars.

throughout the scene as Will is crying, Mike seems touched that Will cares so much about Mike's own happiness that he just gets really swept up in it. almost like he's paying more attention to the intensity with which Will is delivering his speech, than the actual words that Will is saying. like, "wow, he really cares about me." and maybe explaining away him not reacting to Will's tears by him simply coming the conclusion that Will's not crying because he's upset, he's not crying because sad; he's crying because he feels so strongly about this that he can't help but begin to tear up. Mike hasn't seen Will this passionate in a long time. he hasn't seen Will at all in over half a year.

the way Finn decides to have Mike look at Will (doubt it's the Duffers lol i think they're just homophobic at this point) speaks volumes to me, but what got me to make this post in the first place is the last second of the last gif. even when i was watching the first time, I thought it was weird. his face seems to sort of drop off at the last second. he smiles at Will, looks away, and his smile loses something. he almost looks disappointed. like he's giving up.

and I'm not saying this is actual intended text within the script or anything. I don't think the duffers made this happen at all, nor do i think I'm seeing things. not to put my faith into a kid that's literally almost exactly my age, but I truly feel like he's fed up with how Mike is being handled and is taking what he can into his own hands. I don't think we're ever getting canon byler, but I do believe Finn is playing Mike like he's in love with will. and i don't think I'm overanalyzing things given the rest of the entire season. anyway. gay mike is real.

#st4 vol 2 #my posts

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manny-jacinto · 3 years ago

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taking requests!

it turns out i love making requests, because my brain wants to do funny and original stuff so if you want to see something gif’ed from this list below, shoot an ask! don’t hesitate to be specific, i’ll try to do my best :)

(ex of completed requests: crazy rich asians wedding scene, finn is luke’s son, ahsoka tano’s lightsabers, sith!ahsoka tano)

General warning: i am a chickflick/romcom trash can so you’ll see a lot of of these movies in my list 😬

SAGA

Anything and everything from Star Wars (except the comics, novels and clone wars 2003 and any special holidays specials)

All of the Harry Potter movies + FB n°1

The Pirates of the Caribbean trilogy (the first 3 ones)

The Princess Diaries duo ❤️

The Twilight Saga

The Bridget Jones trilogy

Any live action Spider-Man + Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse (2018)

MOVIES

10 Things I Hate About You (1999)

Atonement (2007)

Becoming Jane (2007)

Bend It Like Beckham (2002)

Birds of Prey (2020)

Bull Durham (1988)

Bring It On (2000)

Chef (2014)

Chungking Express (1994)

Constantine (2005)

Crazy Rich Asians (2018)

Crazy, Stupid, Love (2011)

Dirty Dancing (1987)

Eastern Promises (2007)

Freaky Friday (2003)

Gattaca (1997)

Hairspray (2006)

How To Lose A Guy In 10 Days (2003)

Just Wright (2010)

Legally Blonde (2001)

Long Shot (2019)

Made of Honor (2008)

Magic Mike (2012)

Magic Mike XXL (2015)

Mamma Mia! (2008)

Mamma Mia: Here We Go Again (2018)

Minari (2020)

Minority Report (2008)

Miss Congeniality (2000)

Mother’s Day (2016)

Moulin Rouge! (2001)

Much Ado About Nothing (1993)

Music and Lyrics (2007)

Nerve (2016)

Peter Pan (2003)

Pitch Perfect (2012)

Point Break (1991)

Pretty Woman (1990)

Romeo and Juliet (1996)

Seventeen Again (2009)

She's the Man (2006)

Stand by Me (1986)

Tampopo (1985)

The Bodyguard (1992)

The Devil Wears Prada (2006)

The Fall (2006)

The Handmaiden (2016)

The History Boys (2006)

The Hunger Games (2012)

The Hunger Games: Catching Fire (2013)

The Mummy (1999)

The Mummy Returns (2001)

The Proposal (2009)

Trainspotting (1996)

We’re the Millers (2013)

SERIES

Derry Girls

Fleabag

Love Death and Robots

My Mad Fat Diary

Never Have I Ever

Star Wars: Rebels

Star Wars: The Bad Batch

Star Wars: The Clone Wars

Ted Lasso

The Get Down

The Mandalorian

Pitch

OTHER

I almost have the whole Ewan McGregor, Colin Farrell and Pedro Pascal filmography

I will gif/edit anything from Lewis Tan, Manny Jacinto, Justin H. Min, Lakeith Stanfield and Daniel Kaluuya upon any demand

I also have the Baz Luhrmann collection

Feel free to throw me your ideas anytime! Thank you and have a good day 🤗

#idk how to tag this #gif request #tvedit #filmedit #i'd like to point out that if you have a request about a romcom or a chickflick and it's not on this list #you can still shoot me an ask and i could download the movie and edit it if i like it! i have a lot of things to download

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ijustwant2write · 4 years ago

Text

Model Wife-Thomas Shelby x Reader

(GIF credit to @nofckingfighting)

(REQUESTS ARE OPEN AND I HAVE ALSO CREATED A PROMPT LIST HERE IF YOU WANT TO TAKE SOMETHING FROM THAT)

Masterlist

Requested by @justsimplyme93: ‘Hey! How are you? I read the last tommy shelby one you did and i love it. Could you do another arranged marriage with tommy where he still go’s to lizzie and the reader asks to speak with him.’

Characters: Thomas Shelby x Reader

Meanings: (Y/N)=Your name

Warnings: Cheating, sex, swearing, arguing slight violence

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Sipping on my tea, I looked around at our guests in the house, all members of the ‘Grace Shelby Institute’. We had to keep up appearances, and although both Tommy and I hated socialising with people who used to turn their noses up at people like us, they were the ones providing the money. Normally, we would keep most events out of the house, but Tommy had pissed me off, and seeing as he was too busy to help organise it, I made all the arrangements; being petty was sometimes the only way I could get back at him.

“Mrs Shelby, what a lovely home you have! And the decor for today is just lovely.” an older, highly posh woman gushed to me.

I smiled.“Thank you. I am quite proud of myself.”

“I have not had the chance to speak with your husband yet. It seems he keeps vanishing into thin air.”

“Yes, he does have a habit of doing that.”

Knowing that there was no point in trying to track down Tommy, I suffered through an awfully dull conversation with the lady, having to disguise my boredom with polite smiles as more women joined us. They were all much older, I had seen a few young women here, all married to very rich men who were twice their own age; I suppose I couldn’t judge, it wasn’t like Tommy and I were actually in love.

“You know Mrs Shelby, I have always wondered how you met a man like Thomas Shelby.” one of the women said.

She was bold to say something like that, especially to me. I refrained from sighing as I started to recite the story Tommy and I made up.

“Well, it seems very cliche, I must say. We met when he was meeting with my father, obviously wanting to unite our businesses. I ended up being in the right place at the right time, we easily fell into a conversation with each other which was unfortunately interrupted by my father. Thomas was very confident to take me out to dinner, right in front of my father may I add! Surprisingly he was a charmer, and I guess we just fell in love along the way.”

The ladies all cooed, some covering their heart with their hand as if it were the most romantic thing they had ever heard. It was all bullshit. We had to make it as vague as possible, make sure that they had nothing more to gossip about. Both Tommy and I had been married before, they were our real loves; and both had been murdered by a rival, but who received more sympathy after they died? And who was called vicious, degrading names when she re-married to a wealthier, more powerful man? People of ‘society’ were disgusting.

“Finn,” I called out as I approached him, luckily escaping the women,“have you seen your brother?”

“Which one?” he smirked.

I smiled back, ruffling up his hair to annoy him.“The one I’m married to.”

He quickly smoothed it back down.“Not sure. Haven’t seen him in a while.”

“Alright, just keep an eye out for him, yeah?”

Although it wasn’t uncommon for Tommy to disappear (especially to avoid these groups of snobs), he had been gone for a while. He may have been frustrated by my choice of venue, but he would still inform me if he had to leave for business. This made me all the more suspicious.

Leaving the main room, I hastily walked down the halls, leaving the noise behind me. There was an uneasy feeling in the pit of my stomach, wishing that I didn't have an idea of where he could be...and who with. Brushing past staff carrying food and beverages, I made my way upstairs, checking our bedroom first. He was the lowest of low if he was up here; luckily, they hadn’t used this room. Checking through our bedrooms, it was only two doors down from our own when I heard heavy breathing. Taking a deep breath, I gripped onto the handle, bursting in and confirming my suspicions.

“If you’re almost finished, we have guests waiting for you downstairs.” I stated, averting my gaze away from the scene before me.

Lizzie had been bent over the bed, with her dress pulled up over her hips (how classy), and my husband right behind her. She bolted upright, shimmying her dress back down and pulling her underwear up; even after being caught in the act, she looked smug, head held high as she walked past me. Looking back at Tommy, he had an annoyed expression as he did up his trousers. I didn’t want to speak to him, but he called me back before I had a chance to leave.

“We need to speak about this.” he said.

“We do. But not now, not whilst I am hosting this event for the organisation you created for your dead wife.” I snapped, slamming the door shut behind me.

Luckily I had put a time limit on the event, and this time there was a genuine smile on my face as they all left. That was before I remembered what I had witnessed earlier. It was going to go down much messier than I first anticipated, especially since the tension between us had been building up after I caught them in the act. My footsteps were heavy on the way to Tommy’s office, not even bothering the knock before entering. In his usual spot at his desk, whiskey already poured, there was no reaction from him when he saw the fury in my eyes.

“Glad you’re settled for the evening.” I spat, hands on my hips as I stood opposite him.

“This is about earlier?” he coughed.

“What else would we talk about?”

“I’m guessing it has upset you.”

“Not for the reasons you’re thinking.”

He didn’t reply, instead lighting a cigarette.

“Tommy, I understand that there is that bullshit saying ‘all men have urges that need to be fulfilled’, but it doesn’t mean you can disrespect me in my own home.”

“Your home?”

“Yes, my home. I’m here a lot more than you are anyway. And of all the times to be fucking her, you chose the annual Grace Shelby Institute meet up?”

“Don’t say her name.” he mumbled.

I scoffed.“It’s the only way I can get your attention nowadays.”

Tommy raised from his chair, still smoking.“Attention? Since when have you ever wanted my attention?”

“We both knew that this marriage wasn’t based off of love, nor were we ever going to fall in love along the way. However, I have been nothing but a model wife to you. I keep up appearances on your behalf, I make up excuses for your disappearances, I also ensure that your reputation isn’t tarnished by people speaking about you behind your back! And if that doesn’t deserve some fucking respect then I don’t know what does! Also, don’t you think I miss the touch of a man? How many times have I come across men that have shamelessly flirted with me whilst you’re not around, and how easy would it have been to sneak away for just a moment to gain some satisfaction?!”

I could feel my face burning up as I ranted, hating that I wasn’t gaining any sort of reaction from him. Was he this blank with Grace? Was he this blank with Lizzie?

“So you’re asking me to stop seeing Lizzie?”

“I’m not asking you that, because even if I did, you would keep doing it anyway.”

“You don’t know that.”

“Yes, I do. I just want respect. I don’t deserve to be humiliated like this.”

“No one knows.”

“Your family does! And even if they didn’t, that means I don’t deserve respect?”

He sighed as he stubbed out his cigarette.“I didn’t mean it like that.”

“You said it nevertheless.”

“What do you want me to do then?”

“Really Tommy? I want some common fucking decency.”

“Ask and you shall receive.”

I groaned, leaving before I said something I truly regretted. He was acting as if he didn’t give a shit (which he probably didn’t), which only angered me more. Who would want to be stuck in such a place? Letting out an angry scream, I picked up an expensive vase, raising it high above my head before throwing it on the floor with all my might. The pieces glided out across the hardwood floor, some spraying onto my shoes. A few servants rushed in, obviously alarmed by the noise. Instead of apologising, I marched past them, heading up the long stairs and to the bedroom; I would have preferred to grab the leftover bottles of champagne as a nightcap, but exhaustion from my anger would have to do.

Tommy still slept beside me that week, he still ate breakfast with me, sometimes dinner if he wasn't busy. He also tried to have normal, short conversations with me, though even when we glanced at each other, the tension was thick between us. It pissed me off that he was acting normal, and I knew that's why he was doing it...making me even more mad.

"I have a potential business partner coming here today." He informed me over breakfast.

"Why are they coming here?" I asked.

"I couldn't have a meeting elsewhere."

"I thought you said you don't like bringing business home...though come to think of it, you don't really do that either."

"Glad that's settled then."

I assumed that Tommy would want me out of the way when this 'partner' arrived. A good place to go was out to the stables, tend to the horses to take up time. However, I wasn't in the mood for riding or mucking out, instead opting to watch them be trained for racing. Leaning against a fence, I wasn't surprised that my mind was elsewhere, wondering why Tommy was still being so nice to me. We very rarely argued, mostly because neither of us wanted to face the problems at hand, especially when there were more pressing matters to deal with. But after yelling at him like I had, I expected some sort of silent treatment, or even for him to avoid me completely.

"Mrs Shelby?" a butler said from behind me. He continued as I turned around."Mr Shelby's meeting was to commence at twelve, but he is not here at present. However, his business partner has arrived. And..."

"And?"

"And Mr Shelby has asked that you keep him company whilst he is gone. He has assured me he shall be no longer than half an hour."

It was highly unusual for me to meet any of Tommy's associates. This meant that the man couldn't be any sort of threat, he wouldn't expose me like this. Following the butler back inside, I followed him to the parlour, preparing to act as a good host and a good wife.

"I'm sorry that my husband has kept you waiting, he's never been great with time keeping." I said as I walked in, the man having his back towards me.

As he turned around, my eyes widened, as did his.

"Christopher?!" I exclaimed.

"(Y/N)?!" He smiled, rushing towards me.

"Is that really you? What are you doing engaging in business with the Shelby's?"

"My firm is expanding, for some reason Thomas Shelby stepped forward and offered to become partners. I haven't heard about you for years!"

"Neither I about you. Ever since you moved away, we lost contact."

"And now you're the new Mrs Shelby. Bit risky isn't it?"

I laughed."Come sit down, u want to hear everything you have been doing since we last saw each other."

Christopher was a very old friend of mine. We had known each other since we were eighteen, becoming friends after our families were connected through business. We had been young people wanting to rebel, wanting to have fun; we were never in a relationship together, though we would sleep with each other, spend long nights out drinking with our friends. As a lot of my friends went off to get married to higher business men, he was still there, until I selfishly left him behind to marry my husband, the man I truly loved. I had loved Christopher, not so much as someone I wanted to spend my life with, though neither just a friend; it sounded more complicated that it was.

"You know, I always felt slightly bad for marrying and leaving you like that." I admitted.

"Only slightly?" he nudged me.

"It's not my fault I fell in love! We both said that we would never marry each other, it wasn't right."

"No, you are correct. Though, that didn't stop us doing things that couples do."

I giggled."And we did that a lot."

"I'm sure Mr Shelby keeps you busy."

"He would...if he was ever here. Though even if he was..."

"(Y/N)?"

"I've said too much already."

"Have the two of you ever...or haven't rather-"

"No we haven't. And I am telling you this in full secrecy, it must never leave your lips." I pointed a finger at him, becoming serious.

"I promise. I would never do anything to expose you like that."

"Thank you Christopher." I laid my hand on his thigh, thinking nothing of it until he placed his over mine.

Slipping away my hand, I looked away from him, feeling how intense our eye contact was becoming. It was stupid that my heart was beating faster, I was becoming hot under the collar over the tiniest amount of contact.

"I'm assuming your wife knows who you are making a deal with?" I said to start the conversation again.

"There is no Mrs in my life at the moment. I'm afraid work came first and well...there has never been much time."

"Oh Christopher, that's no excuse! Let me guess, you've lost your charm?"

"It's been working on you, hasn't it?"

He got me again. Glancing around, I saw no servants, though I wouldn't be surprised if they were eavesdropping. However, it was Tommy and I that employed them, if they wanted to lose their job, that would he the way to do it. Standing up, I gestured for Christopher to follow.

"We're going on a walk." I announced.

"What about your husband?"

"He will be ages before he gets here. And I'm allowed to show my old friend around the place."

We headed out of the front door, and without saying anything, I guided him down the path that led away from the house.

"(Y/N), I thought you were showing me around your home?" Christopher pointed out.

"I am. We're just starting at the beginning."

"What is that...hut?"

It was a small stone shed, one that would have been used to either keep guns or tools used to maintain the land, keep it tidy. Tommy had another one built closer, initially wanting to knock it down but soon forgetting about it. Now it was empty, the only things remaining being a desk and a chair. It was in front of the trees, slightly hidden by them. You would have to have a sharp eye to spot it, whether you were walking or driving by. Using my shoulder to budge it open, I stepped inside, closing the door after Christopher walked in.

"(Y/N), I'm not stupid, I know why we've come here." He said, staying close by me.

I hesitated to speak, knowing that I hadn't thought this through properly."Christopher... I wouldn't be doing this if-"

"Your husband is Thomas Shelby, this is dangerous for both of us."

"It isn't. He's allowed to go off and do what he wants, because he's Thomas fucking Shelby, and he's a man. Even if he found out about any of this, he wouldn't hurt someone if I asked him not to. He's good to me in that manner."

His hands came up to either side of my face."I'm worried about you, I've never seen you so..."

"Desperate?" I clung onto his jacket, pulling him closer.

"I couldn't believe it was you when you walked in. You're still as beautiful as you were when we were eighteen."

Although he was being a sweetheart and I hadn't received such compliments in a long time, I was inpatient. We both knew where this was headed, and it wasn't going to be as romantic or adventurous as it used to be.

Hungrily kissing me, his arms wrapped around my torso, reaching down to my arse as I pulled off his coat. Pulling away for a moment, he pushed me towards the desk, helping me scramble on top of it. My legs instantly spread as I ruffled up the bottom of my dress, using one hand to grab the back of his neck and kiss him again. I felt his hand slide up my thigh, gasping as he pulled my underwear aside. The sensation filling my body had been badly missed, and I felt myself writhing against his fingers. Leaning back against the wall, I moaned loudly, heavily breathing as I grinded my hips. He slowed down his movements, knowing how much it was frustrating me.

"Christopher..." I struggled to say."Fuck, please...don't stop."

He leaned in to my neck, sloppily missing it as he spoke in between."I loved teasing you like this."

I groaned as he removed his fingers, instantly reaching down to unbuckle his trousers. Before I could take a turn to torture him back, he pulled me off the desk, quickly turning me around and bending me over it. I yelped out in surprise, smiling at the thrill of it all. He tapped my legs apart, moving my skirts out of the way. I felt his skin on mine before he thrusted into me, making me cry out in pleasure. It didn't even matter if anyone could hear us, I hadn't fucked for God knows how long.

He was slow at first, building up the feeling that was in the pit of my stomach. I moaned out his name, reaching back to grab any piece of hm. He had a tight grip on my hips, especially as he started to quicken his pace. The noises escaping his mouth were somehow exciting me, I needed to feel and hear all of this. The pinching of skin from his hold didn't bother me, both of us shouting out each others names along with profanities before he came, but he kept going until I did too. With both of us finished and out of breath, Christopher gently collapsed over me.

"Fuck." I sighed as he pulled out.

Shakily straightening up, I made sure I was dressed correctly, kissing him gently one last time. My body couldn't believe what it had just gone through, and it already wanted more. Before we could say or do anything else, we heard the distant sound of a car, and it could only be headed this way.

"Shit." Christopher stressed, hastily getting dressed.

"It's OK! It'll be OK, Christopher!" I tried to calm him down.

"He's back already!"

"We'll head back and act like nothing happened. I was just walking around with you."

Making sure we both looked normal, we nervously made our way back to the house. My legs were still shaking as he speedily walked, but I said nothing, seeing the stress and fear plastered on his face.

"Ah, Mr Alexander, I see you have met my wife." Tommy was stood in the foyer, unnaturally smiling.

"We actually know each other. We grew up together." I explained, standing beside him.

Then it clicked.

"If you don't mind, I just need a quick word with my wife."

Christopher nodded, politely smiling at both of us before following the butler to Tommy's office. He turned to face me, casually putting his hands in his pockets.

"You invited him on purpose." I said.

"You might want to go lie down for a bit." He didn't say it maliciously, but I was still wary.

"Tommy, please don't hurt him. I initiated it, please don't-"

"I'm not going to do anything to him. He's done what I thought he would do."

"I'm confused. Why would you want him to sleep with me?"

"You said so yourself, why should it just be me doing what I want? You're Mrs fucking Shelby, you've got the power." He started to walk away, leaving me to still think about what he had done.

Still shaky but reeling from the events that unfolded, I ended up smiling."That scheming mother fucker."

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