#tobacco factory

[postcard-from-the-past]

Building of the old Tobacco Factory in Riom, Auvergne region of France

French vintage postcard

[afrotumble]

Cuba: Myth and Mirage? - Tobacco Asia

[ink-man-sam]

Pretty funny how everyone just accepts the fact that I vape but the moment I pull out actual cigarettes, they start to judge me

[mystarpocket]

[dlyarchitecture]

[if-you-fan-a-fire]

“Modern to the Minute,” Hamilton Spectator. March 16, 1931. Page 17. ==== HERE IS ONE VIEW OF THE CLEAN, AIRY FACTORY WHERE BACHELORS ARE MADE ---- for 11 YEARS BACHELOR CIGARS HAVE BEEN MANUFACTURED WITH THE MOST MODERN EQUIPMENT ... MADE IN A CLEAN, AIRY FACTORY, BY SATISFIED EMPLOYEES, UNDER IDEAL WORKING CONDITIONS --- THE Havana Filler in Bachelor cigars is rich are as carefully chosen as the filler... to give in aroma and mellowness that only Cuban soil can give. Wonderful tobacco, carefully selected. 

It deserves the very best of treatment in course of manufacture...and receive it!

When you buy Bachelor cigars you get some thing more than the product of human skill... you get the unbeatable production of the expert cigar maker wing modern equipment. Millions of dollars have been spent perfecting this equipment. It is really marvelous. 

Every Bachelor is uniform in size, properly rolled and smoothly finished. The binder and wrapper are as carefully chosen as the filler...to give you greatest satisfaction.

Every Bachelor is carefully selected for colour. then wrapped to retain the flavour and protect from breakage in your pocket.

Every possible effort has always been put forth to make Bachelors the outstanding 10c cigar of Canada. The moment modern cigar manufacturing equipment proved itself worthy it was introduced... and has been kept thoroughly up-to-date ever since. This equipment, supervised by operators of unusual skill, has made Bachelors the most in cigar value.

WILSON'S  BACHELOR CIGAR

100% HAVANA FILLER

Cleanly Made Every Step of the Way

[richwall101]

WD & HO Wills Tobacco Factory in the Centre of Bristol UK

W.D. & H.O. Wills was a British tobacco manufacturing company formed in Bristol, England. It was the first British company to mass-produce cigarettes, and one of the founding companies of Imperial Tobacco along with John Player & Sons.

The company was founded in 1786, and went by various names before 1830 when it became "W.D. & H.O. Wills". Tobacco was processed and sold under several brand names, some of which were still used by Imperial Tobacco until the second half of the 20th century. The company pioneered the use of cigarette cardswithin their packaging. Many of the buildings in Bristol and other cities around the United Kingdom still exist with several being converted to residential use.

The brand "Wills" was withdrawn by Imperial Tobacco in 1988 for the majority of its products

Many of the original buildings have been demolished but others remain and have been repurposed for communal use and office space...

The TOP image shows the 'New" factory and Headquarters of Imperial Tobacco built in 1974 in the district of Hartcliffe Bristol. Tobacco products ceased to be produced in the late 80's early 90's and this building was partly demolished in 1992 and the site redeveloped into Retail, Leisure, Communal, Office, and Podium Space and renamed Imperial Park.....

[flowersforbucky]

Idk if you take requests but I love the way you write older logan so I'd love it if you wrote older logan coming home after a long shift of driving the limousine to find reader wearing his flannel and how he reacts <3

old man!logan x reader - 740 ish words

thanks so much for this! i have such a soft spot for older logan 🤧💕 18+ only mdni

warnings/tags: logan refers to himself as your old man, reader can wear logan's flannel but no specific physical descriptions, not explicit but there's suggestiveness/implied smut

Tonight, you find yourself especially grateful that Caliban stays with Charles in the water tower during the night. You're always grateful for this, of course. You don't know what any of you would do without his help.

But tonight, you're even more thankful than usual.

Having picked up a few extra shifts at the diner you work at this week, you've barely had time to do anything except sleep when you've been off the clock. Therefore, dishes have piled up and you desperately need to catch up on some laundry on your day off tomorrow.

In the meantime, you wear nothing but one of Logan's old flannels that hangs low enough to cover the curve of your ass - barely.

As if that isn't reason enough to be glad for the privacy, you can't seem to stop yourself from smelling the collar of the shirt every so often, inhaling the familiar and comforting scent of Irish Spring soap and old tobacco.

You'd received a text from him stating he is on his way home almost half an hour ago, so you decided to stay awake until he gets home. In actuality, you'd seen him before you left for work this morning, but it feels like it has been days since you'd been able to do anything other than bid each other quick goodbyes as one of you comes or the other goes.

You stand in the makeshift kitchen of the abandoned smelting plant that you've come to call home, reheating the food that you brought home with you from work earlier. It's dark except for the old TV that stays on near constantly for the comfort of background noise.

You see the limousine headlights flash through the thin curtains that you'd hung up throughout the factory, and you breathe a sigh of relief that he's home as the microwave begins to ding.

He enters a few moments later, locking the door behind him before noticing you leaning against the edge of the kitchen table, next to the food that you have ready for him.

“What exactly did I do to deserve coming home to this?” His voice is tired but still teasing.

“I brought home some leftovers from the diner earlier,” you shrug, nodding towards the plate beside you. “I figured you didn't eat before you left for work.”

He shrugs out of his work jacket, unsnapping the top buttons of his white button down as he slowly walks over to you. His gaze trails from your bare legs and up to your face.

“You'd be right about that,” he admits with a short, low chuckle. “But I'm talking about you wearing this.”

He stands directly in front of you, his hands lightly tugging on the hem of his flannel that graces your thighs.

“This old thing?” You run the palms of your hands up his chest, feeling the hard bulk of his muscles from beneath the smooth material of his button down shirt. When your hands reach his throat, you clasp them around the back of his neck and pull his face closer to yours. “Need to catch up on laundry real bad, it's the only clean thing I could find.”

He hums in consideration, unable to conceal the smirk that forms on his lips in the glow of the TV light. His hands move to your lower back, pulling you flush against him before bunching the loose fabric in his fists.

“I don't think this is clean,” he murmurs against your mouth, the thick scruff of his beard tickling your jaw and sending goosebumps down your spine. You can smell the familiar hint of whiskey on his breath. “In fact, I slept in it just the other night. I'm thinking you just missed your old man.”

“Two things can be true at the same time,” you retort. You did miss him - you always miss him when work and other priorities have to take precedence over time spent together.

“Oh yeah?” He lifts you up the slightest bit by the backs of your thighs, plopping you down on the kitchen table. He nudges your knees open with his own, spreading your legs enough to wedge his body between your thighs. “How about you lay down on this table and let me show you how much I've been missing you, then?”

You glance down at the forgotten plate of food that you'd made for him - it can be reheated again later, you suppose.

••••••

thank you for reading 💕💕

[transit-fag]

What I hate about getting into arguments about rural land use is the fact that it always goes back to the same 2 points

A) so you hate poor farmers and their laborers and think their inferior to you city folk

And B) where do you think your food comes from

I can tell you, the farmers I take issue with are not poor and they are taking advantage of their laborers. My issue is with factory farms that are destroying the earth to make corn to be turned into ethanol. Another thing is, how on earth does a horse farm outside Louisville or Lexington or any of the numerous tobacco farms in KY and VA go to feeding people or help anyone but the rich

[postcard-from-the-past]

Tobacco factory on Sumatra, Indonesia

Dutch vintage postcard

[aismoker]

A few months ago, an agent of Big Tobacco had been sent to the Northpole with a lucrative proposal. Initially Santa refused to listen, but as the meeting continued and the agent's words, carried by the smoke of his cigar, surrounded him, Santa felt that his eyes were being opened. After four hours, they shook hands and the agent went back to Big Tobacco HQ.

Santa, on the other hand stayed, taking deep puffs of his cigar, enjoying the thick smoke deep inside his lungs. It was as if every haul was making him stronger and he fucking loved it. The smoke made him realize who he really was. He wasn't a jolly old fellow, on the contrary, he was a man! A real man, filled with desires. Too long he had just done what people expected of him, but that was going to change...

The first thing Santa - now going by Master Claus - did was to ditch Mrs. C. He didn't know why he had kept up with that annoying hag with her disgusting cookies for all those years.

Secondly, he ordered the gift factory to be pulled down. In its place would rise up something better, something more fitting his new mindset. He no longer gave a shit about children. Those spoiled brats were getting already all the crap they wanted from their parents, so why would he even bother. No, he was now aiming for men. That's why he was going to build a cigar factory, just like Big Tobacco had suggested.

The elves first protested, but with a combination of cigar smoke and some disciplinary actions, they soon fell in line. As the the new factory started to rise up, Master Claus noticed with satisfaction, that the elves were adapting very well. The heavy manual work turned their feeble bodies into hardened slabs of meat with muscles like steel and he never saw ine witjout a cigar in their now bearded jaws. He ordered for them some new uniforms, that would accentuate their new assets.

He often caught them enjoying each other, but he didn't think it was a problem. They were men after all. Hell, he invited every night a few of them over "to discuss the building schedule".

==========

Today, completely according to schedule, the factory was ready and production had started. Now, every hour dozens of cigars rolled out.

Master Claus was pleased. He was ready for the big night! He already could imagine how it would go: He would enter a man's house and slip a cigar into his mouth, as he would slip his cock into his ass, fucking him hard and long as he whispers in his ear that he was a naughty boy. Once the man finished the cigsr he would fall asleep again and that was the moment Master Claus would give him his second gift. A warm, sticky gift. He would then go to the next house, leaving a cigar on the night stand and the man with an uncontrollable craving for cigars.

==========

So, if you wake up on Christmas Day and you notice a cigar on your nightstand amd you feel the need to smoke it, you know who has visited you. My advice: Don't fight it, light up and be as naughty as you can be. He might visit you next year again!

[lieslab]

Enjoy the ride and let loose

꘎♡━━━━━♡꘎ ꘎♡━━━━━♡꘎

Pairing: Vampire Chan X gn reader

Summary: A lonely vampire has been searching high and low for a new pet.

Genre: Alternate reality

Word Count: 2.1K

Trigger warning: Graphic details of blood, broken bones, brief mentions of a bar, drugs, alcohol, urine, vomit, blood, more blood, mainly blood.

A/N: Someone asked for a Chan request based off the Railway music video. So um... you know what? I have nothing to say for this. This was a written sin. My heart is fluttering and I don't even swing that way. I need to go to bed. Tomorrow, we can all touch grass together

_ _ _

Empty promises and eternal salvation from a man cannot save you. The last moments of your life speckled few and far between. Grimy memories faded between who you were and who you’ve become. The dim alleyway sparse with orange light, it wasn’t the best way to get home. 

Another night working your ass off at the bar. Overtime meant more money. Customers blended together. Drinks poured. Shot glasses chimed. Rims lined with lime and salt. Beers overflowing with foam. Spirits that quite literally possessed and inebriated everyone that consumed them. 

Not the best life, but the pay was too great to give up. So you went home when the blanket of night covered the sky. You poured, sloshed, wiped, scooped, and slipped your nights away as the keeper of spirits. Keeping tabs, shutting them, and opening another. You didn’t know what downtime was, but you knew about exhaustion. 

Four twelve hour days were kicking your ass. Days blended together. You barely remembered anything. Taking the alleyway home, collapsing on the worn floral couch, waking up soaked in the scent of someone else’s alcohol. 

The dingy bar, tough crowd, scent of tobacco and skunk. When white lines appeared, when the needles came out, you kept your head low. Just as your boss instructed you to. The less you saw, the better. 

Morally, your skin soaked with sin, but what else could you do? Life didn’t throw you the greatest hand of cards. You did what you could to get by. If that meant working your ass off, nearly collapsing in the middle of that alley on the way home, so be it. 

You picked yourself up by the bootstraps because nobody else was beside you. One more day. One more conversation from intoxicated customers. One more day of dodging empty beer bottles, dealing with screams from angry customers you cut off, and the pesky reminder from your boss. Keep your head down, stay quiet, if the cops show up, you’re just the bartender. Nothing ever happens there. 

The needles poking out the women’s bathroom trash said different. Puddles of half-digested fried greasy food littered the floor, only twice, on a good day. The men’s bathroom? You begged your boss to close it. No matter how good the drunken aim, urine missed the urinal and soaked the speckled underbelly of the flushable device. 

No matter how strong the disinfectant cleaner, the gloves provided little relief from the disgusting feeling of urine soaking your hands. It dripped off the gloves. Murky ammonia scented puddles haunted your dreams. If you weren’t consumed by the scent of booze, it was the ammonia and sweat. It never got old. 

Day five happened to be the day you met the devil. Half-asleep and stumbling in the alleyway, you narrowly dodged the dumpster behind a factory. Late at night, all the workers left hours ago. In a sleepy haze, the world spiraled out of control. 

You tipped left and over-corrected right. Your legs stumbled, your head jerked back, and a soft groan of annoyance filled the air. “Why does my goddamn house have to be so far away?” 

“It doesn’t have to be.” 

There was no time to spin around. Your eyes opened wider, just in time to find the silhouette of a hand shooting out to grab the bottom of your chin. Your eyes widened, your hand jerked upright to stop them, they grabbed your shoulder and then- 

Blinding pain. 

A sickening crunch. 

The morbid realization that your own neck could snap so easily. 

Your legs collapsed. 

An unknown laughter echoed in your ears. 

The night swallowed you whole and sucked you into its vortex. 

You didn’t make it to the sixth night of your shift alive. 

_ _ _ 

When you woke up, you were sure you were dead. An icy numbness harnessed your bones. It curdled your marrow, tucked away everything, and it stole your breath. The usual comforting stum of your heartbeat against your own chest disappeared. 

You scrambled to your feet, pushing out your hands to investigate your surroundings. Way up above, high window panels let in pale lighting, but other than that, darkness settled. It barely illuminated what you could make out to be some sort of cell. Iron bars, a heavy duty padlock wrapped around the door, and more darkness. 

Beneath your feet, a soft squishy material. Perhaps, a rubber mat? You brushed your shoe against it, trying to understand. Your sneaker scraped and then fell silent. You grabbed the bars and shook them, to no avail. 

“Easy there. You can’t get out of there if you try. Iron bars reinforced with iron, iron, and more iron.” A snicker laced an unknown’s voice. “Besides, you’re starving, aren’t you?” 

Step. Step. Step. Step. 

Chains rattled against one another. You searched around the area, not daring to push yourself too far against the bars, for fear of the unknown outside. A large white metal frame rusted away, coated with a thin layer of dust, it stretched in two different directions. Heavy footsteps wandered closer and closer until- 

Thunk. 

You didn’t recognize the man standing before you. You tried to comprehend everything about him all at once. The way his dark hair parted and framed his face. The single white eye and the other nearly dark as the night you fell victim to.

A large black leather bag dressed in small silver chains and a pair of handcuffs. He scrunched his shoulders up, relaxed, sucked in a deep breath, and smiled. “You must be starving, hm?” 

“Who are you?” 

“Who am I?” His lips tugged into a smirk. “Who am I? Who am I?” He chuckled, glanced over his shoulder, and grinned. “They want to know who I am. Should I tell them?” 

You took another step to the weathered bars. Across the way, similar cells sat, but they were a little different. The iron bars across your cell tucked you inside. On the opposite side of the hall, half-wooden stall bottoms were lined with thinner bars. 

Something shrieked and a pale hand jutted out. First one, then another, and then another. More and more lunged from the depths of darkness. Corpse-like fingers wiggled and grabbed air. Detailed veins coated the outside of their hands. Something groaned. Another soft shriek caused the man’s mood to sour. “Shut it! I didn’t ask if you were hungry!” 

“How many people are you keeping here?” 

He paused at your question and began to crane his head back towards you. “People?” You nodded, which led to another amused grin on his end. “Tell me, do you think your heart still beats with life?” 

“It has to be.” 

“And if it wasn’t?” 

Your head shook. Confused by the question and annoyed that you couldn’t get a proper response, you changed the question. “What’s your name?” 

“You can call me Christopher. As for you, my new little pet, I bet you’re starving. The new ones are always starving. Not many make it to this point. You’ve already beaten roughly ninety percent of those who have come before you.” 

���What are you talking about?” 

He didn’t respond. Instead, he squatted, ripped open the zipper, and pulled out a dark pouch. With ease, he pushed it between two bars and tossed it towards you. It landed with a soft plot at your feet. 

Nausea filled your body at the sight. You could only describe it as a pouch full of blood. His eyes didn’t leave your body. Like a predator watching a prey, he observed your every move. “Better drink up while it’s still warm.” 

“Is this a sick joke?” You whispered. Confusion filled your eyes. You glanced at him, but from the look he carried, something in you knew this was something much darker than the anger of a drunk customer. 

“Drink up.” 

Behind him, another screech. He scowled, spun around, and grabbed the closest outstretched arm. Olive skin smeared with purple bruises in the faint sunlight. He snagged their wrist and began to squeeze it. 

“How many times do I have to mend your behavior? A new pet means being on your best behavior. You know what happens to those who don’t listen to me?” 

The hands began to retreat back into the darkness. When the only hand left was the one he held, his eyebrow furrowed. “Do not. Test me. Again.” He jerked the arm up and swung the wrist in a circle. 

Another sickening crunch caused you to gag. A faceless entity shrieked and jerked its hand free. The man glared for a few moments until he sighed and spun around. Another smirk appeared on his face as he sauntered back to your cell. 

“Where were we? Ah, yes. The blood. Drink up, you’re dehydrated.” 

“What’s wrong with you? Where am I? Please,” you uttered desperately, “I just want to go home.” 

“Home? In this state?” He laughed and shook his head. “This is your home for now. Monsters get lonely, you know? Every monster deserves a pet.” 

“Please,” you whispered desperately. You stepped closer and grabbed the bars. Not caring about the filth, you pressed your face against them. “I have a job and a life. That’s all I want. I won’t tell anyone.” 

“You won’t tell anyone I kidnapped you?” He whispered, thoughtfully. 

“Never.” 

Heterochromia eyes stared at yours. His face softened for a moment and he leaned closer. The scent of metallic blood hit your nose, but it didn’t stop you from trying to sway the stranger. 

“Promise?” He asked. 

He stopped your nod by grabbing your chin. “Interesting.” You stayed still, allowing him to run a thumb across your bottom lip. Nerves bombed your stomach and then dived back up like military helicopters. 

You didn’t pull away and you didn’t breathe. The soft pad of his thumb traced your lips again. “You know, I’ve always dreamed of someone like this. To have something, a pet, to share companionship.” 

You kept quiet, hoping it’d work out in your favor. Too busy studying his eyes and focusing on his face, you didn’t catch his second hand drifting towards the leather pouch. His sharp nail punctured another warm pouch. 

“Even monsters can get lonely.” 

For whatever reason, you clung to every word; a pastor preaching a convicting sermon, a sinner and a saint, a monster and a pet. Something pulled you to him, but you couldn’t explain it. Otherworldly and unnatural, it oddly felt comforting. 

“Open.” His thumb tapped your bottom lip. Your lips parted and his eyes lit up. “So obedient, just the way I like them. Stay like that for me.” His thumb went up and began to brush along the side of your cheek. “There you go. I won’t hurt you.” 

Before you could understand it, plastic filled your mouth. His other hand wrapped around your chin. You tried to jerk away, but you couldn’t. In an iron grip, he squeezed the bag of blood. The metallic taste filled your mouth and your face scrunched. 

“Shh. Just swallow. Don’t worry, it won’t hurt you. I know it’s weird at first, but trust me. This is for your own good. Come on, swallow for me. Come on, sweetheart.” An index finger slipped down your throat, trying to coax you into submission. 

You hesitated, but followed his instructions. “Ah, there you go. Not too bad, hmm?” 

When your eyes pulled away to look over his shoulder, he gently squeezed your chin again. Your eyes met his and your legs felt weak. “Don’t look at them. Look at me.” 

He squeezed the plastic bag more. Sticky liquid pulsed into your parted lips. Too much, some dripped down the corner of your mouth. It fell down your cheek, slid beneath your chin, and drifted towards your shirt. 

“Such a messy little pet. How cute.” His thumb stretched out before you could stop him. He caught the end of the trail, hooked his thumb between his lips, and sucked.

You should have stepped back. He let go of your chin. You should have pulled away, but instead, you didn’t move. You watched in awe. Those feelings of fear drifted away. You swallowed without being instructed. 

The fresh blood rushed through your brain and awakened something in your soul. Something ignited and that sleepy haze disappeared. The man’s dimpled smile stretched once more.  “I think we’re going to do great things together, little pet.” 

Staring back at him, you couldn’t respond. Caught in his trance, the moans of pain and shrieks of horror from the unknown bodies behind him, none of it mattered. It didn’t matter that you were sipping someone’s blood. 

You died in that alleyway, but in the middle of this abandoned prison, something deadly; and far more intoxicating than alcohol, bloomed in your bones.

| ♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡ | ♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡ | ♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡ |

Taglist: @lia-linny @seungnishi @stellasays45 @emilyywhyy @rockstarkkami @flightlessackerman @danihwang882 @inlovewithstraykids @velvetmoonlght

Masterlist

Taglist and inbox rules

Ko-fi

[changelingsandothernonsense]

Wip Whenevers

Got tagged by @sulphuricgrin <3 Editing to add @sanza-17 Thank you for tagging me!!!!

Going to tag @skyrim-forever @firefly-factory @dayundying @nyarevar @snowy-weather @archangelsunited and anyone else who's interested.

Posting writing and art today. We have one third of Joshi's hair and Sydari's pov from Serious Mistakes 18 which is almost finished.

Ya boi is pretty and almost done. I just need to finish his hair, do some layer magic and some finishing lighting.

Anyway, Josh left a party and Sydari runs into him afterwards. Under the cut for length. Featuring Joshi's Skaal fur coat and his special interest in Dwemer.

Sydari had seen what looked like a well-worn path that weaved into the forest not too far away from her tent and decided to explore it, hoping that the walk would clear her head and wouldn’t be too strenuous. Getting to Brodir Grove felt like scaling the side of a mountain though to her relief, the path was mostly downhill. The air was crisp, and the wastes were silent as she wandered the twisting path, the lantern in her hand the only thing aside from the waxing moons that lit her path. It was as she descended what looked to have once been a set of stairs carved into the earth that she saw a faint spark of red in the distance. The orange glow almost bobbed in the air, a tiny pinprick of light in a sea of inky black shadows and glowing dunes.

She cautiously approached, her other hand reaching for the hilt of her Razor just in case. Then she smelt it on the wind, the distinct smell of burning tobacco. She lowered her hand just as the silhouette of a tall, lean figure came into view.

“Didn’t think I’d see you around.”

Sydari stopped just as the light from her lantern illuminated the figure, leaning against a boulder, his thin frame swamped in a silvery fur coat.

“Didn’t think I’d see you either, Sero.” She sighed, raising her lantern a little higher to better illuminate the space around them. He’d wiped some of the ash paint from his face, a crusted, white border framing his blue-grey skin. His dark hair fell around his shoulders, messy and coarse as it usually was. He seemed tired, then again, he always seemed tired. He sighed as he flicked the end of his cigarette onto the ashy ground and crushed it with the toe of his boot.

“Yeah, well I—”

“You left the banquet,” She cut in before she could stop herself. He seemed a little taken aback, stepping away from the bolder, cane in hand as he approached what looked to be a sheer drop. He stopped a few paces from the edge and sighed. His grip tightening on the handle of his cane.

“Yeah, I did.” He stated bluntly. Sydari moved towards him, only stopping as he held out his free hand, “I needed some space.”

She swallowed, her heart beating faster at Teldryn’s statement. She watched as he turned a little, facing her as he spoke. His voice was small, melancholy. She wanted to reach out to him.

“I ah, I needed some space and like I told you before…” He sighed and scratched his nose, his gaze moving away from her and back towards the edge of what now appeared to be a sunken Dwemeri ruin. He started rubbing along the outside of his upper thigh, his teeth clenching as he looked back at her, “Needed to deal with shit that’s obviously my fault.”

 “I’m sorry about that,” She apologised with a sigh. She lowered the lantern a little, no longer illuminating Teldryn’s face.

“You’re apologising?” He tilted his head, his hand reaching for his pocket, “I um… ah—”

“I know you can’t control how that thing reacts,” she tried to explain, her voice a little panicked, “I um, I’m not sure why I lashed out at you like that.”

“Coz you’re mad at me for the other day, yeah?” Teldryn replied, his voice breaking a little, “Kinda figured you’re barely tolerating my shit as it is,” He nodded at his hip, “This thing being a fuck-up probably was the last thing you wanted to deal with.”

She sighed, choosing to take another step towards him, noting that he didn’t ask her to stop, “I still shouldn’t have rubbed it in your face.”

The corners of Teldryn’s lips turned up slightly, his gaze still trained on the ruin below, “Apology accepted, sera.”

She closed the distance between them, moving to stand by his side. She looked down into the pit below, its edges expertly cut and smoothed into a sheer drop. It made her feel a little sick, and she took a step backwards. Teldryn reached for her shoulder, his gloved fingers brushing against the fabric of her coat.

“Yeah, it’s a bit of a drop,” He smiled, taking a step with her, “Would you believe me if I said I’m not a fan of it myself?”

She bit down on her lip, glancing over at him as he let go of her, “Then why were you standing on the edge?”

Teldryn shrugged, the fur on his coat rippling as he moved his shoulders, “Curiosity, there’s a lever down the bottom of the tower that I’ve been trying to figure out. There’s a key slot but it’s not one of the puzzle locks that you usually find on these things. Looks more like some of the shit you find in Chimeri structures that used to facilitate teleportation. So, I’m wondering if there’s a connection since the ruins look like they’re First Council era an—”

“Teldryn, I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Sydari cut in. Honestly, she hadn't the first clue about these kinds of ruins outside of what one might be able to loot from it, and considering her experience chasing Mercer Frey through Irkngthad, she wasn’t quite keen to delve into one again.

She’d leave those jobs up to the more eager recruits.

[sturniolo-rat]

The High Life Part 1

Matt Sturniolo X Stoner!Reader

Part 2

A/N: because I need a babysitter when I’m high and this is generally how it goes.

Contains: fluff💕, daddy k!nk

TW: drug use

In which Matt babysits a high Y/N and she becomes submissive and breedable😏

“Matt, would you still love me if I was a worm?” Y/N asks, looking at him through a cloud of smoke.

He looks up from his game “You’re high as shit, but yes, I would, the fuck”? She’s always asking dumbass questions when she smokes. Matt doesn’t smoke himself, but he likes to be around to watch Y/N. Not only does she look really hot, but she becomes so baby, and he wants to take care of her. 

“Okay, but what would you do?” She looks up at him expectantly, looking for a very specific answer.

He turns in his chair. “I’d put you somewhere safe and find the wizard bastard that did this to you.”

Y/N shakes her head furiously. “No, there’s no wizard. The universe just took my human form back and decided I was actually supposed to be a worm.” She says, pulling the rolling tray onto her lap as she sits on the bed facing him crisscross applesauce.

“Alright, easy.” He claps his hands. I got this.” She pauses grinding her weed to lean in. This time, she’s hoping for a more pleasing answer. “I’m going outside every day, rain or shine, even if it’s a hurricane, and I’m screaming up at the sky and demanding the universe turn you back.”

Wrong again. “Oh, so you only care for my human body and not my worm body?” she says indignantly as she struggles to roll her joint.

He grabs her face and kisses her forehead. “Baby, please, you already know you’d have a 6-foot terrarium in our room” he takes her rolling tray off of her and starts fixing her shitty rolling. “but I know you’d be sad cuz you wouldn’t be able to talk. Hence my screaming at the universe.” He licks the end of the rolling paper and seals the joint up. “It’s all for you, my love.” And he holds the perfectly rolled joint out. He learned to roll for her recently. He can only roll joints thought because blunts are for losers, and Y/N doesn’t fuck with tobacco. 

She takes it from him, completely shocked. “Well,, I guess that’s nice of you?” Referring to his hypothetical screaming and his unhypothetical miracle joint rolling skills. “Since when did you know how to do anything even remotely related to drugs?” 

“Last week. I thought I would help my baby out in all her endeavors.” He cracks a smile, knowing he’s thoroughly impressed her. 

She spaces out for a few seconds, then Says, “Could I come outside sometimes?”

He nods, instantly, knowing that her brain just did a factory reset, and is talking about the worm hypothetical again. “Mhmm, I’d put you in my shirt pocket, and we’d go on dates, and I’d get you plates of dirt to eat.” This was not the answer she was looking for because it was so much better, and just so perfectly Matt.

“You’re amazing.”

He pats her head. “I’ll go get you some snacks and water, Lovie.” He leaves, and Y/N feels so comfy and loved. 

“Get my special cup, please!” she yells to the kitchen. The cup in question is a 40-oz stainless steel tumbler that says Daddy’s Girl. Matt knows she’s in subspace. 

When he comes back to the room, Y/N is all cuddled up in bed with the stuffed shark he won at the fair last month. He’s got her special cup in hand and his arms full of chips. He throws them all on the bed and hands over the cup. “Got your cuppy, Sweetheart.”

“Thank you, Daddy.” he never liked being called Daddy before he met Y/N. She just brings something out in him. When she’s around, he just wants to take care of her in every conceivable way. 

“Anything for you, Baby.” He sits beside her on the bed, and she lies her head on his lap. Matt feeds her chips as they watch Family Guy. It’s amusing watching tv with Y/N when she’s high because she can’t follow the plot story shit. He likes asking her what she thinks is happening and listening to her crazy, convoluted answers. 

Somehow, over the course of a couple of hours Y/N ends up sitting between his legs with her back against his chest. She cranes her neck and stares up at him for a while. His lips look so soft, and she can’t look away. Matt notices this and tries to focus her back on the show. “So, what do you think Brian and Stevie are up to right now?”

“D’know.” She shrugs and continues to look at him.

“Do you need something, baby?” He asks.

“Mhmm,” she said, shaking her head and biting her lip.

Matt knows exactly where she’s going with this. “What do you need,

Love. You have to tell me before I can help you.”

“I need you, Daddy.” with that, she opens up a whole new can of worms.

Smutty part 2

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[mystarpocket]

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PREVIOUS PART

Killing Me Softly (PART SIX/ DARK!TOMMY)

Summary: It's been two months since your escape from Tommy's clutches. How long will you be able to stay hidden until your husband hunts you down?

Warnings: Language, angst, psychological mind games, controlling behaviour, toxic marriage, Dark!Tommy ( this is a dark fic, please read the warnings before continuing)

Writers note: Just to note, £250 in 1920s England is the equivalent to £9,183 in today's money, the price Tommy paid for your diamond encrusted bracelet . The song Tommy sings to Y/N is called "Run Rabbit Run" by Flanagan and Allen that was released in 1939, a song Tommy would have known.

Two months later...

Storming into the factory building, every worker turned around in a hurry to avoid the fury on their bosses face. They had learnt over the past two months that one wrong look could end with them getting shot, a lesson they learnt quickly when one of Tommy's many workers approached him to ask about a delivery due that day. Tommy's response, the end of his gun pointed to the young man's head. The workers only saving grace was when Arthur and John stepped in before he ended up six feet under with a bullet hole through his skull. The reason for his anger, you. For the past two months Tommy had torn Birmingham apart looking for you, every one of his henchmen as well as himself had been out searching for you night and day. Countless hours had been spent checking potential leads and yet, he still hadn't found you. The king of Birmingham, the notorious boss of the Peaky Blinders couldn't find his wife, the embarrassment only angered him more. Fury was consuming him, your brazen act of disloyalty and disobedience at the forefront of his mind every second of the day. Unable to sleep or eat, the only thing that kept him going was tobacco, whisky and the awaited pleasure he would feel unleashing his punishment on you, a punishment you would not escape for a second time. Slamming the door to his office shut, Tommy sat down in his leather chair, his fingers running through his hair as he looked down at the various notes left on his table. Sitting back he flicked through each one of the potential sightings, all of them quickly deemed useless as he tossed them into a nearby bin. Gazing down at his wedding ring, Tommy turned the gold band around his finger, clenching his jaw as he pushed down any anxiety that dared to make an appearance. A small inconvenience until he had found you, he thought to himself as he brushed his hand down his face. But was it? You had begun to stir up anxieties in him that he had pushed away for years since his return from war. The fear of having no control over what could happen started to slowly creep up on him again, the same fear he felt digging tunnels in France as the weight of the earth threatened to fall down on him. Swallowing back the memories, Tommy clenched his fist as his mind forced him to remember his time in France, and the only thing that kept him going, his childhood love. At first, it was a comforting memory he'd conjure up as the sound of gunfire echoed through No Man's Land behind him, but in his desperate attempt to block out reality it had become an unhealthy fixation. A once innocent young love became an obsession, an obsession he refused to let go of. Overtime the sound of gunfire and bombs exploding no longer scared him, instead it was replaced with the fear of never seeing you again, a fear that started to feel all too familiar. Straightening his posture out Tommy poured himself a glass of whisky in an attempt to rid himself of the uncomfortable feeling pressing against his chest.

" Why did she leave?" John's wife Esme asked her husband as she watched her brother-in-law through the glass window of his office, his head in his hands, his knee rapidly bouncing up and down as the stress coursed through his body. He was loosing control, and it was becoming evident to all those around him.

" The worry of her mother being sick. She's in a fragile place Esme. She couldn't handle it and left. Tom says she always does that, runs away from her problems when things get too difficult" he replied as Polly looked on, raising an eyebrow at Johns explanation.

" He looks like he's going to murder someone" Arthur said as he walked into the factory looking at Tommy now pacing back and forth in his office with another glass of whisky in his hand.

" He nearly did" Polly said, referring to the factory worker who almost got shot in the head for having the audacity to talk to him.

" He's still not found her then?" Arthur asked, leaning against a wall as he pulled out a silver flask of whisky. Clearly the soothing lull of the amber liquid was not too early for him either.

" Does it look like it?" John replied as he rolled the toothpick in his mouth between his lips.

" Fuck...we've looked everywhere, how far could she have got?" Arthur replied, taking a swig of liquor.

" Pretty far, when your scared" Polly spoke up, as she looked down at the newspaper in front of her.

"Heads up" Arthur said as he nodded to Tommy's office door, warning everyone of his younger brother's approaching presence.

"Arthur, John, we're leaving " Tommy said as he put his coat on, his eyes darting to his Aunt who was staring him down

"You gonna tell us where we going?" John asked as he hopped off one of the receptionists desks placing his peaked cap firmly on his head.

" Just had a phone call. She was seen down by the old Jewellery Quarters over a month ago" Tommy replied as he turned his head to his Aunt. "Problem?" he asked, annoyance in his voice as he cocked an eyebrow at his Aunt's insistent glare.

" Oh no Tommy, you go find your wife...that's if she wants to be found" Polly replied, turning away as Tommy cleared his throat in irritation at her remark. Had Polly finally figured everything out?

"Y/N there's a letter here for you, your Landlady said as she bounced her baby up and down on her hip.

"Thank you Mrs Riley " you replied as you smiled at the baby boy reaching out for you.

"Is it still ok for you to babysit tonight?" she asked as she wiped the dribble off her son's chin with the end of her apron.

" Of course, I don't mind at all. Plus, how could I say no to this little man" you replied as you took him from her, blowing small raspberries to his neck as he giggled in response.

" Ahh thank you. First time me and Mr Riley have gone out since this little one came along. You should really come one day, lots of single men will be there, they will be jumping at the chance to dance with you. We need to find you a husband!" she chuckled smiling to you, unaware that you were already married.

"Why would I need a man when I've got this little bundle to keep me company" you replied looking down at the baby in your arms, a small uneasiness washing over you at the thought of Tommy. " Oh god, it's that time already. I'm going to be late" you said looking down at your watch as you passed the baby back to his mother. Saying goodbye you walked out onto the farm you had been stopping at for the past two months. Having sold the bracelet Tommy had gifted you before your wedding, you had plenty of money to afford a more expensive place to stay, but you needed to keep low. You knew Tommy would be out searching for you, and with that in mind you responded to an advertisement in the local paper for a small lodgings at Riley Farm, the perfect place for anyone wanting to go unnoticed. A small bedsit attached to the side of the farm house in a little village you had never heard of, so inconspicuous that it was not even marked on a map. With everyone knowing the last name Shelby and Tommy knowing you might use your maiden name in replacement, you started using your mothers maiden name from the day you left Arrow House. Word spread fast about Tommy Shelby's anger. Even in the small village you was now living in a you heard talk of how the gang leader of the Peaky Blinder was tearing the city apart. No one knew exactly why the infamous Tommy Shelby's fury had rained down on the smog covered city, but there were rumours of his wife having run off with another man, a rumour you only imagined infuriated him even more. You knew your husband would never cease in his search for you and that you would eventually have to leave and find somewhere else to stay, but for now you enjoyed the peace and quiet the small village gave you, a peace you had forgotten existed. You had started working as a teaching assistant at the village school, a school that accommodated many orphaned children from the war, funded by rich benefactors. You enjoyed your job, the children's laughs and joyful spirits were a pleasant distraction to the memories you held inside of the previous months. But there were still times when Tommy would invade your thoughts and you would suddenly find yourself longing for him once again. Longing for his strong arms wrapped around you, his hands cupping your cheeks as he look down into your eyes, his voice telling you he loved you. Had he still a hold on you, even after everything that had happened ?

"Stop here Arthur" Tommy said as his older brother pulled up in front of a shop in Birmingham's city center.

" What the fuck we doing here, thought she was seen in a jewellery shop?" Arthur replied as he looked out his window at the small building. Giving no response Tommy opened the door as he reached into his pocket to light a cigarette. Looking up, Tommy squinted his eyes at the sign attached to the old stone brick wall, "Johnson & son Pawnbrokers". Breathing out a cloud of smoke he entered the small business, shutting the door behind him.

" Well I guess we bloody follow him then" Arthur said rolling his eyes as John shook his head laughing.

As the three brothers entered the shop, the owner immediately scurried back behind his till, instantly recognising each gang member, the shine from the blade on the front of their caps a stark reminder of their brutality if he dared to anger them.

" Please, I don't want trouble" he said as he put his trembling hands up in defence.

"What makes you think we're here to cause trouble?" Tommy asked as John and Arthur looked around at the various objects for sale.

" A young woman was seen coming in here a few months ago" Tommy said reaching into his suit jacket, pulling out an old picture of you that had clearly seen better days.

" We get lots of people coming in to sell things Mr Shelby" he replied nervously as he looked down at the picture. " I don't remember her, she could have come in when my son was working or maybe my wife, I'm not very good at remembering faces. I'll, I'll go get my wif.." he said only to be interrupted when Tommy pulled a gun to his head, tired of the conversation. The shop keepers eyes quickly darted to the back door next to him as he contemplated fleeing.

"I wouldn't do that if I was you" Tommy said as he clicked the safety off. " I have very little patience these days Mr Johnson".

" Tom, I think you might want to see this" Arthur said as he looked down into a glass cabinet. Narrowing his eyes Tommy lowered his gun, a small smirk playing on his lips as he looked at the trembling man in front of him. Walking over, Tommy's eyes widened at the small bracelet he had offered you before your wedding sitting in a glass cabinet on a red velvet stand. His stomach suddenly felt sick, his hands sweaty.

" Care to explain why the fuck you have my wife's bracelet in your possession?! " Tommy shouted as he marched back over to the shop owner, the gun now pressed firmly against the old man's temple.

" She...she must have come in and sold it, please don't shoot me" he said mumbling as he scrunched his eyes shut, the barrel of the gun cold against his skin.

" No? " Tommy grinned darkly as he twisted the end of the gun further into his flesh.

" P..please Mr Shelby"

" I wouldn't say anything more if I was you, he's two seconds away from pulling that trigger" John said as Arthur watched on.

" Yeh, and I can't be bothered to pull him off another innocent soul for a second time. Got elbowed in the bloody stomach last time " Arthur added as the two brothers looked at eachother smirking, enjoying the torment they were inflicting.

" Right give us the keys to open this thing " Arthur said slapping his hands together, pulling Tommy out of his trance. Dropping the gun from the shop keepers head Tommy scoffed as he watched him fumble to find his keys.

" So is it hers?" John asked as Tommy picked it up, turning it over to see both your initials and the date of your wedding engraved on the back. Brushing his hand down his face Tommy nodded as he enclosed the bracelet in his hand, placing it in his pocket.

" Did she erh..." Tommy said as he started to clear his throat, his mouth suddenly going dry "...did she leave any details, address, number?" He asked as he turned back to the shop keeper.

" I'll check right now for you me Shelby" the owner said hurrying back to his counter as he looked through various pieces of paper, desperately trying to find something as Tommy waited next to him, lighting another cigarette

" What do you think?" John laughed placing a straw hat with an array of different flowers stitched into the side of it on top of his peaked cap.

" Very pretty John boy, you should get it" Arthur said winking to his brother. "Ain't he pretty Tommy?" Arthur laughed trying to get his brother to lighten up.

" Beautiful" Tommy replied flatly as he looked back over to the shop owner, his fingers taping on the counter, his patience disappearing.

"Ah here! I found something. One diamond encrusted bracelet sold in the exchange of, One Hundred and Ten pound King George Sterling to one Miss Y/mothers maiden/N, 12A Ferris Court Birmingham" he said handing the small piece of paper to Tommy, breathing a sigh of relief.

"She's still in Birmingham?" John questioned confused as to how they hadn't found you since they had already checked that part of town. Scrunching the paper in his hands, anger started to build up in him. Was someone helping you?

" Y/mothers maiden/N" Tommy scoffed. " One Hundred and Ten pounds ey? I brought that bracelet for Two Hundred and Fifty" Tommy said, squinting his eyes at the shopkeeper who swallowed harshly as he leaned over the counter to open his till. " One Hundred and Ten pounds, and I'll be keeping the bracelet" Tommy said pulling the same sum of money out, a smirk on his lips as the owner rubbed the sweat of his forehead as Tommy emptied his till." Lads " Tommy said as he walked to the door, his brothers quickly following behind him. " Pleasure doing business with you Mr Johnson" he added, walking out the door as Arthur took the hat of John's head replacing it with slap to the back of his skull instead.

After a long day of working at the school, you and the teacher you were assisting made your way to the village square. You and Mr Brown or as you called him Robert, had grown close to one another over the past weeks. He had become a good a friend, but only a friend. He would never ask questions about your personal life, quickly realising you were reluctant to talk about it whenever the topic arose, he respected your privacy and decided to leave the subject alone. Every day after school had ended he would walk with you to your lodgings, he was a caring man whose friendship you deeply cherished, one you was afraid of Tommy learning about. If your husband knew you was talking to another man let alone him accompany you home, you would certainly both pay the price for his anger, the thought alone scared you into never delving into your past.

" Think the kids really enjoyed your imaginative way of learning the alphabet today. Still don't know how you managed to find an object for each word of the alphabet" he laughed as he walked beside you along the country lane.

" I don't either" you giggled as you both approached the village square, the sun shining down on the quiet neighborhood.

" Thinking about having them do a large drawing for our benefactors visit tomorrow, we are so grateful for their donations. They keep our school going and Mr Sh.." he stopped as you came to a halt, your hand grabbing holding of his arm.

"Y/N are you ok? " he said looking at the fearful expression on your face, your eyes fixed on the back of a smartly dressed man with a peaked cap sitting on a bricked wall.

" He found me...I, I need to go" you panicked, tears welling in your eyes as you started walking backwards letting go of Roberts arm.

"Wait, Y/N" he stopped you, your eyes widening at the man turning around as Robert turned his head to look at what had you so frightened.

" Oh..." You exhaled as tears ran down your face to see that the man in front of you wasn't your husband. Feeling your knees go weak, you stumbled to a nearby bench as Robert held you up.

"You're married aren't you?" He questioned as he looked down at your trembling hands, the indent of where your wedding ring once was only now coming to his attention.

"Yes" you said nodding your head as you blinked away the tears.

" And you're hiding from him?" he asked as you mouthed a silent yes in response whilst you looked desperately into your friends eyes.

" You don't understand, if he finds me.."

" He's not going to find Y/N, nobody knows about this village, they can't even pronounce it let alone find it. You're safe here, I promise" he said, as he placed a comforting hand over yours. " Come on, let's get you back before Mrs Riley starts worrying" he said smiling to you as he reached his hand out for yours. Smiling back you stood up wiping the tears away with the back of your hand as a wave of dread washed over you at Roberts words. Tommy would never stop until he found you, it was only matter of time until he would finally hunt you down.

"FUCKKK!" Tommy shouted at the top of his voice as he repeatedly punched his fist into the wall. " She's playing with me Arthur, she's fucking playing with me!" Tommy yelled as he frantically reached into his pocket for a smoke, anger coursing through his body as he tried to light the cigarette in his mouth. You had deceived him, the address you gave was the address to an abandoned flat on the north side of Birmingham's city center, Tommy was furious.

" Tom, maybe she just wants some space, she'll come back eventually" John said as he stood by the door, his hands in his pockets.

" What the fuck was that, space?!" Tommy said storming over to his brother, Arthur putting himself between them before a fight broke out.

" We'll find her Tom" Arthur reassured his brother as he took out his lighter, igniting the cigarette resting between Tommy's lips.

" She fucking needs me, she's weak without me" Tommy said as he exhaled a cloud of smoke, the nicotine calming his nerves as his brothers looked nervously to eachother at Tommy's strange choice of words.

" Come on brother let's get out here" Arthur said wrapping his arm around his shoulder as he walked with him to the door, John sheepishly following behind. Tommy may be John's brother but even he knew he was not immune to the deadly gang leaders retribution, a retribution he wanted to stay clear of.

Sitting by the classroom window the following day, you looked down at the stack of papers In front of you that needed to be marked as Robert walked into the classroom carrying a pile of books in his arms.

" They'll be arriving soon" Robert said as he placed the books down onto his desk, a film a sweat covering his skin from his frantic state.

" Who?" You replied looking up from the papers you were grading as you took a sip of tea, a playful smile on your lips as you looked at Roberts nervousness.

" The benefactors of the school, remember? They've been funding us for over a year, we can't keep this place going without them, everything needs to be in order for when they come" he replied as he sat down in his chair exhausted.

" Come on Robert, no one would pull funding from a school for orphaned children'' you replied trying to reassure him.

" Yes maybe, but these patrons are not exactly, clean money" he responded as he wiped the sweat from his skin whilst you giggled at the thought of criminals funding anything, let alone a school.

" Well they can't be that bad if they have the heart to donate money to our little school. What did you say their name was?" you replied as you put your pen back into your bag.

" It's Sh..oh god it's them" he answered cutting himself off when he saw their car pull up in front of the school.

" Do I have time to use the bathroom?" you asked getting up with a grin on your face as you turned around to see the Bugatti parked just outside.

" Yes yes but hurry, the boss is... well he's, he's intimidating"

"Intimidating" you repeated, rolling your eyes laughing whilst you made your way to the restroom as the sound of the school door opened.

" Remind me why the fuck we have to go to these things Pol?" Tommy asked as he lit a cigarette.

" Because it's what you do when you own a charity Tommy" she replied shutting the school door behind her.

" Well don't drag it on, I've got things to do. Who chose this school? I've never even heard of this fucking village " he added as he looked at his pocket watch, his patience already disappearing.

" Can you at least try to pretend like you want to be here" Polly said as she gave him a stern look, Tommy forcing a sarcastic smile in response.

" Mr Shelby, Miss Grey. It's so nice to see you again" Robert greeted them as he shook each of their hand, a warm smile on his face as he welcomed them into the classroom. Looking around the small room Tommy perched himself on one of the empty desks, exhaling a puff of smoke as Polly and Robert talked to eachother.

" Do tell us Mr Brown, how are the children doing? Do you have everything you need?" Polly asked as Tommy rubbed his cigarette in between his fingers, looking out the window, uninterested by the conversation that was taking place.

" Oh, they are doing great, we have a new teaching assistant that started a few months ago, she should be back any minute, she's been a real help" he replied pulling out the drawing the children had made for them. Rubbing his forehead Tommy looked ahead of him at the small desk beside the blackboard when something suddenly caught his eye. Scrunching his brow he stood up walking over to the small wooden table in the corner, tilting his head as his eyes narrowed in on the black handbag sitting on top of the old wood. This was your bag, he was certain of it. The sound of Polly and Roberts conversation started to muffle in his ears, the thumping of his heart replaced the echo of their voices as he felt the room closing in on him. Feeling the pressure of his shirt pushing against his throat, Tommy loosened the tie around his neck, his anger rising in him at an unstoppable speed, you had been here all this time.

" When did your new assistant start working here ?" Tommy seethed, turning around to face Robert as he wiped the beads of sweat from his forehead.

" Around 6 weeks ago Mr Shelby" he replied, taking a step back as he saw the anger in Tommy's face.

" At this new teaching assistant " Tommy started to say as bitterness and fury built in his voice. " What's her last name?"

" Well it's Y/mother's maiden/N" he replied as Tommy scoffed in reply, shaking his head in disbelief.

" Miss Y/mother's maiden/N...not Mrs Shelby then?" Tommy answered as he looked Robert dead in the eye.

" What's going on Tommy?" Polly interjected as she watched the the tension build in her nephews face.

" Have you been helping her, hm?" Tommy said raising his voice as Polly's eyes darted to your bag on the table, putting her hand to her mouth in shock at the realisation.

" I... I don't " Robert stuttered as his brain tried to catch up to what Tommy was asking. And then it hit him, he was the man you were hiding from, he was your husband.

" Where is she? Answer me!" Tommy shouted as he slammed his fist down onto the desk in front of him.

Leaving the bathroom, you frowned in confusion as you heard the sound of raised voices coming from the classroom you had just left. Drying the back of your hands on the front of your dress you hurried to the room as quickly as you could, only to come to a stop as your eyes widened in terror, a gasp leaving your mouth whilst your hand grasped onto the door frame in fear you would lose your balance. There, standing in the middle of the room was your husband, Roberts hand holding onto a chair as Tommy loomed over him. Straightening his coat out Tommy turned around to the sound of your presence.

" Hello darling" your husband said, his hands casually in his suit trousers as a wicked smile grew on his lips, his eyes roaming over your body. He had found you.

Letting go of the door frame you started to walk backwards, tears welling in you eyes as you looked back at your husband, his eyes darkening, his face taunt with anger as he waited for you to do what he knew you would.

" One, two, three..." Tommy started to count as if this was a game of hide-and-seek, and he was the seeker. Shaking your head tears fell down your cheeks as you prepared yourself to run, the sound of his countdown ringing in your ears. But Tommy never would count to ten. With the smirk growing on his face, Tommy stopped at three, his eyebrow raised as he took one step forward and you took one step back. Spinning around you ran to the front door as quickly as you could, slamming it shut as the sound of your husband's footsteps chasing after you rapidly approached.

" Y/N Shelby!" Tommy shouted as he ran after you, a sinister smile dancing on his lips. This was all a game to him, he was enjoying it." You never was very good at hiding" he shouted as he watched you run around the corner out on to the road.

" Come on sweetheart, don't I get a kiss from my long-lost wife" he said sarcastically as he hunched down pulling his gun out. Now ducked down running along the opposite side of the hedge Tommy watched you through the small holes in the hedgerow as you rapidly walked down the country lane wiping the tears from your eyes.

"Run rabbit, run rabbit, run run run, don't give the farmer his fun, fun, fun " Tommy sang as you abruptly stopped in the middle of the road your eyes darting left and right as panic coursed through your body. Turning around you looked back to the top of the road when you suddenly heard someone pushing their way through the hedge, the cock of a gun echoing along the country lane. With a trembling body your turned back around, tears cascading down your face as your eyes turned to see Tommy standing right behind you, his gun pointed straight at you.

"Lost little bunny?"

NEXT PART

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