Cillian Murphy X Reader - Blog Posts

CAN YOU HEAR ME SCREAMING?—please, don't leave me

Thomas Shelby x Reader

Request by @goblinjnr

Warnings: hurt/comfort, mentions of death, grieving, angst, suicide

A/N: it's very fucking sad so beware

~~

Her eyes shut tight as her husband pressed a loving kiss onto her lips. Y/N's body involuntarily relaxing into his hands, causing Tommy to smile through the kiss.

”Mrs. Shelby, are you cold? I can see goosebumps on your skin” He teased, leaning forward as he grazed the skin of her neck with his nose, causing her to let out a sigh.

”Very funny” She responded, pinching his side lightly with a grin. ”That's what happens to a woman when her husband finally decides to put business away and give her affection instead.” Her voice was also teasing, as her own gaze completely drowned in his intense blue orbs.

Pulling her even closer, Tommy's nose brushed against hers in a promise of a kiss.

”So I'll have to consider doing this more often.”

Leaving last, strong kiss on her lips Tommy took a step back.

”Do what you have to, and come find me.” Y/N asked, squeezing his hand lightly, her expression relaxed and almost dreamy seeing him in such a good humour.

Bowing lightly, Thomas answered.

”Don't go too far, I'll join you soon.” His voice had an undertone of worry to it, his eyes becoming slightly more cloudy at the obvious allusion.

Giving him a weak nod, Y/N agreed, understanding exactly what he meant.

Don't go anywhere on your own, it's dangerous

Turning around, Thomas slowly walked back to his office, his steps echoing throughout the corridor as the warmth of their lovely encounter disappeared under the weight of reality.

Y/N let out a sharp breath, her heart picking up speed as her hand fell to her belly, causing more internal pain than anything. The mask she had to wear around him was becoming heavier with each passing day.

But she couldn't tell him. Not when the prognosis were so hopeful the last time they visited the hospital together. Not after seeing him gain back the spark he lost for so long.

Letting out a sharp exhale, Y/N turned around, slowly walking back to their bedroom. Wincing quietly she made her way through the corridor before settling on a bed lightly.

The day they found out was the worst day in her life. Rushing to the doctor so hopefully, once she noticed her stomach... Growing. After trying for a baby, could it finally happen? Y/N wondered back then, showing Tommy the swelling on her stomach.

Putting his hand over her belly, he was the happiest man in the world, dimples on his cheeks revealing to their full extent as he smiled so brightly, a rare sight but how beautiful she felt. A family, of her own.

A girl? A boy? They wondered the day before her visit. Chatting away endlessly about names, clothes and toys for a little Shelby.

A heavenly happiness that lasted no longer than three days, before they got crushed by the diagnosis.

Stomach cancer

Thomas' hand fell limp by his side, as Y/N froze completely. It took a longer minute, followed by ”I'm so sorry” from the doctor before tears appeared. Falling faster and heavier, each one a nail to her poor heart, wiping away every dream they managed to talk about in the last days.

All hope, gone, just like that.

...but it wasn't over just yet, as Dr. Wellerman explained the path they will have to go through. The risks of chemotherapy, additional tests and needed medication.

Tommy tried to stay strong, so badly, despite the white colour his face turned. Nausea took over his mind as he listened to each word, listening to the doctor explaining her survival rate. He needed to be strong.

So he was, carrying the weight like a world champion, never letting her carry it alone.

”Don't cry” He murmured in the worst nights, rocking her back and forth in his arms, sitting on the floor by the bed. ”We will bring you back to good health, and then have children. Little copies of our own, eh? A girl with my nose and your smile.” He spoke quietly into her ear, staring blankly at a wall. Whispering beautiful words she so desperately needed to hear, keeping her heart from breaking.

With each week they were both feeling worse, Y/N's physical state worsening visibly throughout the chemotherapy. The pain she felt in her abdomen could be compared to the flames from hell, reaching her ruthlessly and blooming the horrible thought she tried to push away so badly.

I want to die already, her mind would whisper cruelly, hating the way her husband's bones became more visible. His sunken eyes which lost all colour, almost as if he was the one with tumour eating away on his body and mind.

It wouldn't be much different then, because the pain he carried seeing her slowly fade away was easily the most difficult battles he had to fight.

A couple years back, Thomas would never expect to even think that, but the war in France was nothing compared to the unfair war he chose to fight everyday, holding onto his wife at all costs.

On the worst days, he would silently cry against the door of their bathroom, begging her to let him in as she cried so loudly.

”Don't look at me, I'm disgusting!” Y/N kept repeating, looking in the shattered mirror at her reflection. She was a shadow of her old self, her almost completely bald head mocking her, along with the colourless eyes that looked back.

”Y/N, please. Don't shut me away” His voice was breaking, despite the attempts to stay strong. Minutes later he would be on the floor by her side, kissing her temples and holding so tightly to not let her drown.

”You're beautiful, Mrs. Shelby. The most beautiful woman I've ever seen,” He talked, looking her in the eyes, his deep, honest voice never ceasing to bring her out of misery even just for a few seconds. Rough fingertips grazing over her delicate, pale skin. ”So beautiful I just had to marry you.”

A deep silence following his gentle tone, as his fingers drew random patterns on her skin.

”Am I dying, Tommy?” She asked quietly, her voice so fearful as she held onto his shirt, head resting on his shoulder. Thomas was almost sure she could physically hear his heart shattering at the question.

”No,” He replied confidently, getting her to look him in the eyes. To see the lack of hesitation and the fire he had in him, as her own was slowly getting smaller. She was losing hope. ”You're not dying. I wouldn't let you leave me, after all, eh?” He said, small, weak smile appearing on his lips and reaching her eyes.

”I love you so much” She whispered, slowly nodding off to sleep against his heartbeat.

Y/N remembered every and each of those days when he's been the lifeline. The only reason she was getting up and fighting against the cruel faith, slipping from death's embrace every day, almost like his love was keeping her alive.

...and it worked. Tests started coming back better than before, the cancer responded well to the chemo, allowing life to slowly seep back into their reality.

Y/N could never forget how happy it made them. Made him. The way he laughed and joked, and touched her looking, oh the way he looked at her. Like nothing else mattered, as he brought her flowers and loved every moment they had. Thomas grew to appreciate her presence so much, even the business wasn't able to get a hold of his mind as often anymore.

Life was a dream, until it wasn't.

The pain and swelling grew, sometimes making it difficult to move her legs even. Y/N held onto the thought that it was temporary, that everything was okay, so she didn't tell him. Couldn't bring herself to share her worries, seeing the way he lived and not just survived anymore.

So the secrets began, every letter from the hospital started coming to the rented storage she kept away from everyone. Tests getting more worrying until one, particular one, killed the hope completely.

The cancer no longer remained in her stomach, now spreading to the liver, lymph nodes and lungs, crushing the potential survival rate to 3%.

”Oh God” She cried at first, howling so loudly her throat grew sore and voice weak.

But it wasn't the worst. The worst was pretending around Tommy, forcing herself to smile and walk and talk as lively as before.

Be there for him, and try hard enough to smile so it would reach her eyes, because else he would know.

Each day was harder as the pain grew stronger. Eventually she had to start shaving her head every few days, to hide the fact she stopped the chemotherapy.

The pain was too much. The first time was easier, as she mindlessly shared the misery with Tommy. Carrying it together was easier, but with how much he loved her, seeing her in that state was killing him more than cancer was killing her.

So she pretended. Smiling, shaving her head and making sure to keep her expression stoic as the swelling burned hellishly.

So here she was, sitting on the edge of their bed, both hands on her belly in hopes to ease the pain. Unfamiliar pain, one so strong she couldn't breath at all.

”Tommy” She managed to whimper out, fingers wrapping around the edge of the nightstand so hard, her knuckles turned white. Slowly lowering herself to the ground, Y/N felt her legs giving out as she fell down with a loud thump, starting to cough.

Barely opening her eyes, she noticed the drops of crimson red fluid dirtying the clean, wooden floor. Her mind turned hazy, feeling completely out of it as more and more blood splattered the floor.

Only then did she barely register the fast, loud steps approaching.

”Y/N!” Thomas boomed loudly, rushing to her side. His face was completely pale, his shaky hands wrapping around her chest as he pulled her up, completely panicked. ”Frances! Frances call the ambulance!” He screamed in a frenzy, leaning forward to try and help. ”Y/N, I'm here, I'm here.” He choked out as her eyes became cloudy, breaths coming out in short bursts. ”Y/N! Look at me, please fucking look at me!” Tears steamed down his face at the suddenly terrible state she found herself in. She looked at him, but couldn't see.

As he cried, and screamed, pulling all the old medication she used to be taking from her nightstand, spilling them by his side and looking for the particular one that used to help with breathing problems, Y/N was halway gone.

Physically she couldn't see, struggling to breathe enough to keep her brain functioning yet the only thing she could think of was him.

Please, don't take me away. Who's going to protect him from the self-destruction his heart holds?

”Please, don't leave me” He cried out weakly, pushing his forehead against her collarbone, hiding his face in the crook of her neck. Hiding.

The memory of his happy, blue eyes was the last thing she registered, feeling as if he gently eased her into sleep, taking away all the pain. In reality, Thomas couldn't hold in the animalistic howling that ripped from his throat while he held her tightly to his chest, rocking back and forth as the sound of an ambulance pulling up by the Arrow house came to his ears.

From this moment, there was nothing.

***

She was gone.

He lost count of the amount of hours since it happened. Thomas didn't know if it was a night or a day, as he forced the maids to cover every source of light in the house before sending them away. The alcohol combined with opium in his system made him see the most beautiful things in the dark, memories shining so brightly.

His eyes rolled back at the scent of her, as he was holding her nightgown to his chest. Blood was trickling from his fingers, dirtying the pink material because of the destruction he brought upon the Arrow house once left alone.

Rocking back and forth in the middle of the room, he remembered the sight of his wife sitting by the vanity, laughing as she made him roll his eyes with her smart mouth. She fitted so perfectly, so perfectly with the scent he was feeling.

It was all that mattered, as long as he felt her presence around him.

In the next few days Polly threw away all the opium he had, trying her best along with her nephews to support him through the ripping loss. Only if he wanted that help, maybe everything would eventually be okay.

But for him, there was nothing before her, and nothing after her. The story was done.

Once left alone again, he let out a sigh, feeling the pounding headache. The noise was overwhelming, impossible to suppress ever since she was gone.

”I can hear them coming again” He whispered into the silence of his office, as the shovels dug against the walls from every direction. Getting louder with every passing minute. ”They want to take you away from me, darling” His voice was rough from the lack of using it. Opening his eyes, Thomas looked at the portrait hanging on the wall. You and him. Like like he promised. His eyes on the painting were far from reality, not resembling the dark irises, swallowed completely by madness which took over his mind without change. ”I won't let you leave me” He repeated the line from the past, lips wrapping around the familiar words as he pulled out the pistol from his holster. Lazily pressing the muzzle against his head as his lips turned upwards into a heartfelt smile. ”I'm coming, sweetheart.”

His loving words were followed by a loud bang, as the bullet ruthlessly ripped through his skull and brain, only to get stuck in the old furniture in another room.

His body went completely limp as the unlit cigarette fell onto the desk, becoming the last sound of their lively love ever heard in the wall of the Arrow house.

A house which became a cemetery for the undying love, and future that would never come.

Taggin my people: @iilovedonnatartt @gentlebeari @narlytude @honeymoon8 @chaimaarouaine11 @hatethis29 @bruhidkjustwannaread @reiwanwan @immyowndefender @jbrownta @preparedfruit @emptyvoidofmine

—I'D GO BACK TO YOU

Tommy Shelby x Reader

Summary: Tommy and Y/N can't seem to be able to let the other go despite the growing hurt and conflicted feelings ruining their friendship.

Warnings: hurt/comfort, smut, fluff, jealousy, abusive childhood

A/N: SEND ME REQUESTS BITCHES

~~

Have you ever had someone by your side long enough to not remember the time before they came around? Almost like they were always here, through the good and bad. Relationship with no beginning nor ending, a permanent part of reality so dear, you barely ever stop to think about the direction.

The earliest memories Y/N had of Tommy were back in childhood. His small, thin hands covering her ears with eyes wide open as he listened through the old wooden door to her parents break the glass in the kitchen. Their words sharper than the pieces shattered on the floor as he braced himself against the door, silently praying for Y/N's father to not come looking for them. The early years of childhood they spent travelling through the imaginary lands where love was gentle and voices never rose in anger, where the outstretched hand did not mean upcoming pain of impact. Two kids so lonely, as they clung desperately to the presence of each other, holding hands so tightly, trembling from helplessness whenever the world would decide to remind them of cruelty from which they couldn't hide, not even in the four walls they grew up to call home.

As they grew older the definition of friendship became rougher around the edges, proving that no matter how hard you run, you won't outrun the blood in your veins. The uncontrollable rage Thomas inherited from the man he swore to hate, causing wounds that ran deeper than the broken skin on his knuckles after countless fights in Y/N's name, not letting anyone hurt her. Despite the differences they remained by each other, as he held her hand even tighter than when they were kids, not letting her drown in the ways of protecting herself by staying small and loving from a distance, until she couldn't stand it as the definition changed once more.

With a small distance that inevitably grew, Y/N watched him try to scratch the itch which seemed to never go away until he became an open wound, too raw for comfort.

Spiraling into the uncontrollable rage that ran between his veins, hating the reflection of his father staring at him in the mirror. Despising the flesh and blood he was made of, passed down like a legacy he never asked for like the scars on his face. She stood nearby, watching from the other side of his small room, not knowing what to say but offering her presence, too deep in her chase for the love she so desperately needed and never had.

Love from the hands gentle enough to not leave scratches, desperately seeking the fulfilment her childhood never offered.

Like two opposites, they stuck together through the worst years, separated by war just to be reconciled again in the worst versions of themselves.

He came back almost dead inside, and she felt too much. Y/N soon enough noticed the rough skin on Tommy's hands, the wilderness in his eyes dressed in expensive suits. Money coming from pain and blood mixed with gun powder, which he used to sharpen the blade hidden in his cap, one she feared so badly.

It took months for the colour to come back into his eyes, making them look lively, impossible to avoid the glances he'd send her across the table. Eyes watching so intently, she could never miss the gaze that weighed more than any other. Emotions swirling in them, creating a storm she was fearing, seeing clearly that she was the one directly on it's path.

For months they danced around the topic, not daring to address his longing. The lack of interest in other women and attention he couldn't bring himself to give to others.

Oh, how scared she was, knowing the destruction that Thomas Shelby held in his heart. One she didn't dare to reach for, shying almost as if she got burnt.

...and years passed without a word that would matter, just sticking through it.

How on earth was she still here?, Y/N wondered walking through the too familiar street. Passing by the old buildings which held more secrets than anyone could count, yet remaining silent, maybe too used to the violence of Birmingham.

Her long coat kept her warm, and emphasized the legs, causing men to glare.

Coming to a stop by the pub, her lips stretched into a smile, seeing him there, waiting. The little routine which formed by itself between them, as Thomas reached for the pack of cigarettes, offering her one before lighting it.

”Morning” He spoke up in a husky voice, the lack of sleep visible in his eyes, causing them to be paler than usual, as he stole a glance of her long legs.

Legs that he saw completely bare too many times to be able to restrain himself, brimming on the edge of hurt he was so used to.

”Are they inside yet?” She asked, glancing towards the entrance to which he shook his head, inhaling the smoke. Y/N nodded, looking at him with a small smile.

”What?” He eventually asked, seeing the light dancing in her eyes, to which she shrugged, remaining silent for a moment before letting out a sigh.

”He asked me out on another date. Brought me flowers” She confessed quietly, clearly happy. Cocking an eyebrow, Thomas just nodded, taking another puff of his cigarette. The numbing pain in his heart was nothing new, the uncertainty of his decisions making the wound remain open, never healing. He looked to the side, letting out a ragged breath.

”I'm happy for you, Y/N” He responded, causing her to shift awkwardly on her feet as she recognized the feeling in his voice. Stubbing out his cigarette, Tommy nodded towards the door. ”Let's wait inside, eh?” He suggested, his silhouette tense, to which she agreed.

***

A couple weeks later, Y/N realized the shift in his behaviour. Tommy's eyes grew distance, avoiding. The usual.. weight of his gaze shifted, not busying himself anymore to catch her eyes.

He seemed more closed up, focused on business and races which were very important. Looking more eager than usual to celebrate taking over major districts in London, he informed all Blinders to come to the Garrison tonight.

Arthur was more than happy, cheering about it since early morning but only when she arrived, hand to hand with William she understood why.

Amongst the chaos Thomas stood, leaning forward with a smaller hand in his grasp. Playful smirk dancing on his lips as he whispered sweet nothings to a dark haired woman. Y/N had to admit that she was pretty, lips smeared with red lipstick and short curls dancing close to her face with each move. Ripping her gaze away, she led William to Blinders table.

”I'll introduce you,” she offered, feeling the tiny bit of resistance in his uncertain walk, lacking the stride she was used to. Ignoring the nagging feeling on the back of her head she pulled him closer as they stood by the big, wooden table.

”Boys,” She spoke up, getting their attention, ”That's William, my good friend,” Y/N generously offered, as Arthur looked at him closely, quickly subconsciously placing him in one of the categories he had for men in this city.

”Arthur” He eventually offered with a slightly mocking grin as the younger man shook his hand weakly. Y/N pulled some chatter further, interrupted by her companion.

”I'll go... Get some drinks.” He quietly said, eyes dancing around the room in search of familiar faces, finding none, to which she nodded.

His tall, thin frame quickly disappeared in the crowd making her sigh as her eyes landed on the couple sitting by the other side of the pub.

His hand was draped over her shoulders as he knocked back the rest of his whiskey. Fingers slightly tracing patterns as he intently looked in her eyes, listening to her words.

Y/N's pulse quickened while her face remained completely stone cold, looking away as she felt the weird thumping in her ears as annoyance grew rapidly.

”Here” William suddenly appeared by her side, handing her a colourful drink. She looked at it funny, before cocking an eyebrow at him. ”What? It tastes good. Trust me” He offered with a smile, suddenly being way more annoying than before.

Letting out a huff, she placed it on a table.

”Let's dance,” Y/N suggested, trying to keep her gaze on him and not on the table several feet away.

”Oh, no, no, no” He shook his head, taking a step back. ”I don't dance. My back hurts” He lied, glancing nervously towards the big table.

Y/N breathed deeply, trying to calm her sudden frustration with the way he... Just was.

”You know, what? You're right. I don't have much time today, anyway.” She faked a smile, leading him outside and trying as fast as possible to get rid of him before making her way home.

***

Hours later once the party finished, Y/N was unable to contain her frustration any longer. Quickly walking across the city she knocked on the door of the house she knew too well.

Not waiting longer than a couple minutes before the door swung open, revealing Tommy in his undershirt.

”Y/N” He spoke up, before she took a step forward, her lips pressing tightly against his. Her hands clutched onto his shoulders as Tommy reacted immediately, pulling her inside.

The temperature immediately rocketed, when he leaned her against the wall. One of his arms grasped the back of her head while the other pulled on her hip, pawing on her dress. The familiar touch of his rough hands against her skin made her moan audibly, feeling his lips move onto her neck. Sucking and biting marks that she'd try to hide away later, as they fall into the same habit, unable to let go.

”Tommy” She whined, pulling on his belt and ripping it open with need. ”I need you” Her voice came out the same way as always.

Full of emotion. Passion and raw craving for the intimacy they could have only together, in no other setting. He shuddered under her touch, as she pulled him out of his underwear, stroking and pulling on his already fully hard cock.

”Why” He breathed out, as she pulled him onto the armchair, straddling his lap with her underwear already discarded to the floor. She took his breath away with another kiss, hands greedily pulling on his hair as he lined up his tip with her leaking entrance.

”I need you” She repeated, slowly sinking down as she threw her head back, exposing her neck. ”I need you to tell me, Tommy.” She pleaded, craving the roughness, the safety she felt in his strong hands. ”Please!”

Thomas knew what she asked for. She always did whenever they would be close. The first couple times he'd give in without a second thought, hope blossoming in his heart as he made love to her, but... It was never enough. She would never be there when he woke up.

He pulled her closer by the neck, hiding his face against her skin as he shook his head.

”No” He mumbled, thrusting up into her heart, fingers digging into the skin of her thighs, greedily pulling her closer. Needing her more than physically possible.

Her fingers pulled in his hair, tearing him away to look into his eyes. Her own were half lidded, drunk on the intimacy they shared.

”Please, Tommy” She whimpered in a voice so delicate and beautiful, he felt his heart tightening, bracing for the impact he'd feel in the morning.

Letting out a deep sigh, he shut his eyes.

”Please” She repeated into his ear, riding him skillfully just the way he liked. Her hands pawing on his skin less than patiently.

”I love you” He confessed in a choked moan, giving into her pleadings, hurting himself again.

”Again” She begged, feeling her heat squeezing around him, as her words made her feel what she needed. Making her feel like it was just them in the whole world again.

”I love you. I love you so much” He groaned, grabbing her hips as his released came sooner than expected, giving her deep thrusts that pushed her over the edge, as she pulled him closer. Embracing him as she screamed his name, before slowly trying to catch her breath.

Tommy leaned back, breathing deeply as his eyes searched for emotions on her own. Reaching up to her face, still sheathed deep inside her, Thomas grabbed her chin, making her look at him and the pain in his eyes.

”You're hurting me” He said, seeing the storm mirroring his own, as his heart slowed down to the normal tempo.

Y/N felt something shift, as the realisation dawned at her.

***

This time, Y/N fell asleep with him in the armchair, not waking up till the very morning. Sitting up she looked around, realising that she was in his bed, but... He wasn't around. The bedding on the other side was cold, already made and the only thing she found was... A piece of paper. Neatly folded in half, revealing his italic handwriting that brought fear into her heart.

I can't keep doing it anymore, it's too much to be with you but never have you. You have to let me go.

T.S

Reading the small letters, breath caught in her throat as she quickly threw on her clothes, rushing towards the phone and calling around. Asking everyone where Tommy could be, creating some serious chaos as she rushed to one of his cars. Jumping behind the wheel she drove to his office, praying to any deity watching over that he was there.

She could barely think, remembering the way his hands danced across her skin, bringing the feeling of safety she clung onto for so long. Associating the roughness, scent and weight of his gaze on her skin.

How foolish she was, all these years. Settling for having him in the moment and then letting go.

Jumping out of the car she rushed through the door, not bothering to knock before almost flying into the room.

For a longer moment the only audible sound was her panting as she tried to catch her breath. Slowly looking up, her eyes locked with his. Thomas' brows furrowed with surprise, seeing her in such a disheveled state.

”Oh my god, you're here!” She breathed out, straightening her back and sighing with relief. Reaching for a pack of cigarettes, Tommy lit one of them, taking his time to inhale and then slowly exhale smoke in the air.

”Where else could I be, eh?” He asked, his voice distant and rougher. His eyes so unavailable.

But she knew. She understood his stance, and the realisation swirled around her mind as she took a step forward.

”I'm... I thought you'd be gone. I don't know what I was thinking.” She stuttered out, biting her lip. ”I'm.. I'm so sorry, Tommy.” Y/N said, this time quieter as her eyes caught his once again.

”Nothing to be sorry for. Forgotten, as always.” He said dismissively, grabbing one of the papers sitting on his desk, trying to get away from the uncomfortable topic. Y/N wasn't surprised by his reaction, after the humiliation she put him through.

Letting out a sigh, she came up, pulling the document out of his hands, pulling him back and standing between him and his desk.

”Tommy, look at me.” She pleaded and it took a moment before he did. The hesitation made her heart hurt. ”I was... An idiotic dunce.” She eventually said, making him furrow his eyebrows again in surprise, yet the corner of his lips slightly raised. Y/N sniffed, before sitting in his lap and grabbing his face.

”I still am, since it took me so long to realise... And figure it out. I just.. I was scared, Tommy. I felt good around you. Nice and tingly, whenever you'd be around or look at me but it felt so... Different. New and scary, and i—i didn't want to be scared anymore so...” She relaxed slowly into the way he held her gaze. ”So I was running away from you. From us. But I never felt fear so strong like this morning. Like when I thought that you'd be... Gone, and unavailable for me.” Her voice grew shaky as she held his face.

Tommy just listened, his gaze softening as he watched her struggle with words.

”...and I'm sorry for yesterday. I don't have the right to be jealous, because you're not even mine... But I... I'd like you to be.” She added, her thumbs caressing the skin on his cheeks as her own turned pink.

Y/N waited for a reaction but he didn't say anything, so she leaned closer.

”Say you want me too” She whispered nervously, but Thomas just shook his head with a delicate grin, raising his eyebrows. ”Oh, come on, don't leave me hanging after i—” She began ranting, suddenly being silenced by his strong hand gripping the back of her throat, pulling her into a deep, very emotional kiss. She put her hand on his chest, feeling how quickly his heart was beating. Closing her eyes she savoured every second, the seemingly unending kiss making her dizzy.

As he pulled away, his eyes were bright and shiny, lips grinning at her mischievously. Expecting him to say something, Y/N smiled back.

”Idiotic dunce?” He repeated before a husky laugh pushed past his lips making her shove his face away slightly.

”Shut up, Shelby”

Taggin my people: @iilovedonnatartt @gentlebeari @narlytude @honeymoon8 @chaimaarouaine11 @hatethis29 @bruhidkjustwannaread @reiwanwan @immyowndefender @jbrownta

@preparedfruit

Guys send me requests for Cillian Murphy before my creativity stops flowing LOL

Smut, angst, fluff, and special requests for kinks are acceptable as well

JUST ANOTHER OF YOUR MISTAKES

Thomas Shelby x Reader

Warnings: angst, swearing, violence, grieving, a lot of pain, eventual fluff, smut

A/N: thanks for reading guys

PART ONE PART TWO PART THREE

~~

Y/N was never a light sleeper, but this particular time waking up felt way more difficult than usual. Her head was hurting from all the crying and the last thing she could remember was Tommy holding her against his chest and the familiar scent of his cologne mixed with his own unique scent before she nodded off, unable to handle the recent events.

“Mrs. Shelby, you're awake” One of the maids spoke up with a gentle smile, putting a steaming tea on the nightstand by her side.

Sitting up, Y/N furrowed her eyebrows in confusion.

“I'm not a Shelby” She responded with more annoyance than she'd like.

“Oh” The older woman said with a hint of shame. “My apologies. Mr. Shelby asked to bring you tea and some pain relief tonic,”

Y/N nodded, thanking her quietly before she rose from the bed, looking around. The room looked familiar in a less than pleasurable way, just like the clothes she was wearing. Sighing deeply she walked out of the room, seeing the dark corridor of the places she once called home.

After getting refreshed and dressed, Y/N walked toward the grand staircase. She stopped cold, feeling goosebumps running through her spine in the worst possible way when she saw the monumental portrait of Thomas and her in the stairwell. One she used to see everyday. The eyes on the portrait looked as lively as ever, mocking the pain she held in her chest every time she saw it. There she was, the former lady of the house, laying claim to her domain even from the grave. The longer she stared at her, the more she felt Grace was taunting her. “You may have been his woman once, but I have his heart and his ring on my finger now.” The words rang in her ears, coming from the depths of her memory, loud as the day she heard them for the first time. Y/N couldn't seem to be able to tear her gaze away, silently battling the ghost that seemed to curse her relationship forever.

She stood there for a long moment, immersed in the painting so much that she didn't realise she was being watched.

Thomas stood in the doorway on the other side of the corridor, watching her silently losing the battle as shame gnawed on his insides. He should have thrown it away long ago, but it was the last thing on his mind as he desperately looked for Y/N everywhere. The dead woman on his wall wasn't a big concern.

“You're awake” He spoke up, unable to handle the silence anymore.

She turned around, almost startled, as he caught her staring at her. The first thing she noticed were the glasses on his nose, and she fought against the little smirk that tried to appear on her lips so badly.

“What am I doing here? Where are the boys?” She asked, straight to the point. Thomas shifted from foot to foot awkwardly, knowing she wouldn't be happy with the news.

“Boys are with Frances upstairs, playing.” He responded, looking her in the eyes. “You're not safe outside of Arrow house. You three need to stay here until the vendetta is over.”

“What if you had more men surrounding my flat instead?” Y/N bargained.

“It’s too dangerous and I need my men concentrated not spread out over cities” he replied, already prepared for the questions he knew she'd ask.

She wanted to argue so badly. Y/N wanted to be free from him and the reminders of the past that this house held. But she knew that receiving a black hand was a serious threat she didn’t have the capacity to handle by herself.

“The only reason I'm not leaving right now is because I need to keep them safe.” She said, stepping closer. “...and if anything happens to us, I want you to know that it's all your fault.”

Despite knowing and seeing the pure hatred in her eyes, Thomas could never fully brace himself for the impact of her words.

“Nothing will happen to any of you. I give you my word” He said, quieter this time.

“Your word means nothing to me, Thomas. Just… just stay away from us as much as possible.” Y/N added, wanting to walk away.

“You can't expect me to stay away. They.. are my kids. My sons.” He said suddenly, and the confidence and fierceness of his voice made her stop in her tracks. “I regret losing you every single day. Every day I grieved the loss of my bloody heart, and then I found out there's three I should have been grieving. But you're here, and so are they. So I won't let yo–them go.” He hissed out, almost frantically and the vulnerability in his eyes made her slightly tremble. It hurt even more, because she waited so long to hear.. anything. Any crumb of reassurance would be enough to keep her here, but he didn't say a fucking word.

Straightening her back, Y/N inhaled a deep breath, looking back at the bloody portrait who was witnessing the whole scene. Seconds later she looked at him again, and the fire in his eyes was more lively, outweighing the dead, judgemental stare.

“They won't call you their father. If you break this rule, you won't see us again.”

***

The next day Y/N woke up, bracing herself for another battle as she walked down the stairs and to her surprise, the portrait was… gone. Her heart thumped wildly at the realisation and she couldn't believe her eyes. Suddenly the tension in the house seemed to have lessened.

Walking to the kitchen, she noticed Thomas sitting by the table with a cup of coffee and a cigarette in his hand, as he read the newspaper. It felt weirdly domesticated and the thought alone made her smirk.

“Did the boys eat?” She asked, not sure what to expect.

“Frances fed them an hour ago. Tommy is napping in the living room, and Nick is picking daisies with Mary in the garden.” He responded in a calm tone, not tearing his gaze away from the newspaper.

Silence hung in the air as they each did their own thing

Finishing up her breakfast, Y/N cleared her throat again as she looked at the wall in front of her.

“The portrait is gone” She pointed out in an emotionless voice, not looking at him. A couple longer moments passed before she heard him exhale a cloud of smoke.

“What portrait? He responded, and Y/N’s lips stretched into a subtle smile before she grabbed her plate and walked away.

A couple days later Y/N still avoided him, occasionally getting to talk to John or Arthur, but both of them were distracted by the giant threat hanging over the family. Polly seemed to keep it together the best, coming over whenever she felt like it for some female company.

Y/N said her goodbyes to Polly, going to put the cups into the sink and cleaning the mess after Nick. She wasn't used to having maids doing everything for her, so it was more comfortable to just clean the mess herself. Nick himself was currently spending time with his uncles by the stables, and Tommy was… who knows where.

After cleaning, Y/N went looking for the other boy, asking Frances who just directed her to the little room where the toys were stored.

She expected everything, but not the view she saw arriving in the doorway. Little Tommy sat back on his legs, watching with wide eyes and furiously colouring the different shapes Thomas drew for him.

“Dat?” Tommy asked suspiciously, pointing towards the crooked flower on the paper and glancing at him with big eyes.

“This?” He asked with a grin, “that's a flower” he explained, to which the boy nodded, narrowing his eyes lightly.

“...and dat?!” He asked suddenly in a squeaky tone, seeing the car Thomas drew for him.

“That's a car. Almost” He chuckled, seeing the crooked shapes as he tried his very best.

Tommy nodded, grinning in the same way as his father before glancing at his mum.

“Hi!” He waved, before pointing to the flower again. “fwowa!” he said proudly, pushing his little chest forward.

Thomas just laughed quietly, putting the pencil down.

“Good job, little man” he said, before slowly rising from the floor with a groan.

“Oh God, I'm too old for this” He whispered with a chuckle, glancing at Y/N who wasn't able to suppress the smile on her face after she heard Tommy talk. “Don't smile like that, now it's your turn.” Thomas added, passing by her in the doorway, his shoulder brushing against hers.

***

The next couple weeks were… rougher. Changretta was relentless in his search, which turned into a couple of seriously dangerous situations where John got shot in the chest barely coming out alive. Polly didn't agree with a lot of Thomas' actions, despite his inability to back off right now. He stood his ground, no matter how difficult it was sometimes to keep Y/N inside Arrow house whenever worse moments would arrive. And they did, fairly frequently.

The pull he felt became stronger and stronger, no matter how many daggers she kept throwing. Spewing the words she held deep inside, reminding him of the monster he used to be… or maybe still was? He couldn't tell. The view in the reflection of his mirror was so blurry, that it didn't matter. As long as she saw him to be fit enough to be around boys.

The house was completely quiet as he made his way through the corridor, lacking the usual sounds of kids playing or Y/N walking from one room to the other. Walking past the library, he caught a glimpse of light coming from the room that made him stop in his tracks.

His hands trembled with anxiety. The fear settled in his ribs over three years ago and hasn't left him once, even though they were here.

Thomas was aware of how powerless he was once the vendetta was over. The thought of them leaving the house and never coming back was making his heart squeeze painfully, reminding him of the privilege he once had, but gave it up willingly. The fear was like a loop, tightening around his throat with each passing day as he grew comfortable coming home and seeing them here.

Walking into the library, Thomas was completely quiet, wanting nothing but to see her if it was all he could count on. He was completely unaware of the fact that she always felt his presence. Sometimes letting him stay, and other times making him leave so desperately that made him wonder whether it was possible to day from a broken heart.

Step after step he tried to control his shallow breathing as he finally saw her. Standing by the big shelf, he traced over the backs of books standing there for so long, it felt like they were always there.

“You wouldn't like that one” He spoke up quietly, noticing how she didn't even budge hearing his voice. It took a longer moment before she replied.

“How so?” Her voice was calm, light-hearted as she found herself lost in the countless stories filling up the wooden shelves. The nagging thoughts in his mind disappeared the second he heard her voice.

“Because you don't like uncertainty. It's filled with unanswered questions and has an open ending.” He thought for a moment before replying, well aware of the content of this book, because he read them all. In the moments of despair, trying to hold onto every scrap of feelings in the house so empty, it felt like nobody lived inside.

Sighing deeply, Y/N put the book back in its place, grabbing another one.

“Nobody likes uncertainty, Thomas. Holding onto the moment, unsure of what's to come.” She sighed, hearing his slow footsteps approaching. “A book is just a book. You can close it, and move onto another one anytime. If only life was just as easy.”

Silence in the room caused the whole scenery to become more intimate, unexpectedly even for him. Stopping mere inches behind her, he watched the back of her head for a moment, remembering the nightmares he had every night. Ones where he couldn't reach her, no matter how he tried.

His breath caught in his throat as he slowly raised his hand, moving it closer and closer towards her shoulder. Inches away, he noticed the goosebumps covering her skin. Without looking he reached out to the shelf, grasping onto the book he knew by heart, while his arm brushed against her own.

He stood close, too close, and Y/N knew it too well, yet she couldn't bring herself to make him leave or pull away. The way he trembled as his chest pressed lightly against her back made her stand still.

“You'd love this one” He whispered, not feeling brave enough to speak loudly. The uncertainty they talked about he knew better than anything else.

Her breathing became heavier, feeling him so close, the tingling on her skin she hadn't felt for so long almost made her flinch. Slowly, she turned around facing him.

This, Thomas didn't expect as she suddenly looked up, their eyes meeting in a gaze long forgotten, yet still alive and lively as when they looked for the first time.

“I don't read anymore” She confessed quietly, and his eyes couldn't help but watch her lips intently. The way they wrapped around the words she spoke.

The urge to grab and hold her closer was strong, almost too strong. Tommy tilted his head to the side, getting a better look at her face in the dim light.

“I can read it to you” He offered quietly, as it was the closest she allowed him to… just be near her.

So he waited, scared of ruining the moment as she moved closer. Their noses brushing against each other.

“I wanted you to speak, not read.” The sound of her voice was like the most beautiful music he ever got to listen to, even though the words were far from it. “...but now it's too late, and you're standing too close.” her breath touched his lips, taunting.

…and then she pulled away, leaving him standing there. Slowly making her way out of the library.

“You're cruel” He said, loud enough for Y/N to hear.

***

Y/N opened her eyes suddenly, sitting up as she took a deep breath, desperately trying to blink away the nightmare she had. The clock showed three AM in the morning, and her heart was pounding from the fear she felt. One she rarely felt anymore, feeling as Thomas was taking it over day by day, despite her unwillingness to share anything. Even the broken, ugly parts he ruined.

His cold eyes kept looking at her in the dream, so unfazed by the idea of her absence. The humiliation turned into physical tears rolling down her cheeks as the memories clouded her reasoning.

Getting up from her bed, she remembered the way he touched her. Avoiding her eyes, throwing his head back. Not bothering to bare himself, so eager to take but never give. Forcing her to pour from a completely empty cup.

Her bare feet were cold against the floor as she quickly made her way through the corridor, knowing where she'd find him. Swiftly opening the door to his office, Y/N didn't bother to say a word or wipe her tears away as she quickly walked up, not looking him in the eyes.

“Y/N?” He asked, taking his glasses off and setting them on his desk while she suddenly pulled him back, creating more space to straddle his lap. Tears kept streaming in a smaller amount, but never ending as she ripped his shirt open, baring his chest.

“What are you–” He tried to speak up, but she didn't let him, as she pressed her lips against his so aggressively his breath caught in his throat.

Pulling on his belt she unbuckled it skillfully, a motion she knew too well from all these years ago. The inner pain burned her chest as she kissed and bit him, while pushing his arms away.

“Shut up” She hissed, as the humiliation from the memories took over her mind. The shame of giving and never asking for more. Of being taken and left without any rest. Pulling his pants open she stroked him impatiently, doing just enough to get him going. It wasn't difficult, as he was the only man she ever slept with, knowing his habits and body more than she'd care to admit.

Her nails raked over his throat and chest, ripping a deep groan from his throat.

He didn't dare to ask, feeling and giving everything she wanted to take. Despite the burning, the physical attraction and need she felt was stronger, her arousal glistening and visible as she lined him up with her entrance, not caring enough to be slow or subtle as she sank down on him fully. A subtle moan pushed past her lips as she squeezed her eyes tightly, doing the same thing he used to.

His eyes were wide open, taking the beautiful sight of her on top of him, but the expression on her face made him hurt so badly, he thought he might not survive. He reached out, wanting her to look at him, but she refused, keeping her eyes squeezed tightly as she moved on top of him frantically chasing her release.

“Y/N” He begged quietly, as her hands wrapped around his throat, squeezing to cause pain.

“I hate you. I hate you so much” She whimpered, as his fingers dug into her thighs.

“Please” He whispered, and she let go of his throat, digging her nails into his shoulders.

Thomas wanted to reach out to wipe her tears away, but he knew she wouldn't let him.

So he leaned forward, his forehead pressing against her collarbone when he let out a shaky breath.

“I love you” He whispered weakly, holding her tightly as she haven't stopped moving even for a second, brimming on the edge.

“I hate you. I fucking hate you” She cried out, opening her eyes as she looked down at him, meeting his gaze. His eyes were half lidded but he didn't give up, staring and repeating like mantra.

“I love you” kept spilling from his lips as she reached her peak, causing him to follow right after as they reached the release.

His head fell forward, tears escaping his tired eyes as she quickly got off of him, leaving him without a word.

***

Y/N was growing increasingly restless inside of the Arrow House. Her days had been filled with reading and finding activities to keep her sons occupied, which took less time than usual, as Thomas took every opportunity to spend time with them. There was one room she had only been in once prior on this visit. She shuddered at the memory of her desperate conflicted intimacy with Thomas. Y/N knew that room would hold a concentrated form of his presence and essence, even more so after that night. She wasn’t sure if she felt strong enough to enter his sanctum again, but while Thomas was away on business and her boys were having their afternoon nap, the curiosity overcame her hesitation as she entered his space.

It was incredibly… him with deep mahogany furnishings and sumptuous emerald accents. During that night, she had paid no attention to the surroundings in the office - only to him and her inner emotions. Slowly she went deeper into his study, turning on a lamp at his desk. She could picture him here with those round glasses on, absorbed in matters of business both legitimate and less so. To the side of his desk was a small curio cabinet filled with antiquities and presumably family mementos. It hardly garnered a second thought from her until she noticed a figurine on the top shelf next to an old photograph of Thomas and his siblings. It was the figurine.

Before the war, before everything changed, she and Thomas would wander around Birmingham together - young and full of optimism. Both their families were poor and doing their best to survive in the cruel world, but they were the dreamers of their respective clans. He and Y/N often visited a certain shop that sold trinkets and collectables. Y/N yearned to be able to spend money on frivolous little objects like these one day. There was a specific figurine that she longed to own: a porcelain ballerina with graceful fingers and a white and pink lace ruffled skirt. She thought ballerinas were the most fairy-like women that walked the Earth. Of course neither of them could afford such a beautifully crafted figurine, but Y/N swore that one day they would walk in that shop and purchase her ballerina without a second thought to the cost.

That never happened, yet here it was, that same figurine she had seen so many years before sitting in Thomas’ curio cabinet in his most sacred space of his home. She didn’t know what it meant, but she felt tears prick her eyes at the reminder of those beautiful days from their youth. If only they could be like that again. If only the war and the turmoil after it hadn’t soured the tender young love they had known.

“I see you found your way back to my study” Thomas’ deep voice called from the doorway. Y/N was startled. She had been so lost in her memories and feelings that she hadn’t noticed his presence. She shifted awkwardly.

“Yeah, it seems like it.” She responded, glancing towards the curio cabinet. He slowly came up closer, a small grin on his face.

“What did you find?” Thomas asked, tilting his head to the side. Of course he knew what she saw, but wanted to hear it.

“I can’t believe you remembered my ballerina” Y/N said, not meeting his gaze.

“I went back to the shop to get it, but old Mr. Jones said he’d sold it years before. It took some hunting, but I eventually found her. I was hoping to someday show it to you, but… seems like you found her instead.”

“Why?” she questioned him in a small voice.

“Because this is how I remember you. You always said the ballerina was like a fairy or goddess come to Earth, but to me… when I saw that ballerina figure, I saw you.” Y/N’s eyes glistened with unshed tears as she glanced back towards the cabinet and then back at the man in front of her. Letting out a deep sigh, she wiped her eyes.

“Why now? Why did it take you so long to… to do this? Anything. I waited so long and… and now it's too late, Thomas.” She said, looking at him with an expression that crushed him. Feeling his breath hitch painfully, he felt his throat tightening. He had grieved over losing her and now that Y/N was physically here, she had never felt more far away from him.

After looking into her eyes for a longer moment, Tommy grabbed her hand, slowly straightening it against his palm while the other one reached to his holster, pulling out his gun. Y/N’s eyes widened, but his gaze remained locked on hers, not faltering.

Finally, he didn't feel the fear. Holding the loaded gun, he slowly shoved it into her smaller hand, aiming it forward before he closed his eyes. Pushing his forehead against the muzzle tightly, keeping her wrist upright.

“Then kill me.” He said out loud, the words hanging in the air for a moment. “Because otherwise I will never let you go, no matter how hard you try.”

Thanks for reading lol bye

@iilovedonnatartt @gentlebeari @narlytude @garrison-girl-08 @chaimaarouaine11 @bruhidkjustwannaread @reiwanwan @immyowndefender @jbrownta @honeymoon8

@dannysankletattoo

JUST ANOTHER OF YOUR MISTAKES

Thomas Shelby x Reader

Warnings: angst, swearing, violence, grieving, a lot of pain, eventual fluff, smut

A/N: it's a.. heavy fic, so beware. Interact for more

Guys I lied it will have three parts actually

PART ONE PART TWO PART THREE

~~

Y/N sighed deeply, holding Tommy's hand as he carefully stepped over the threshold to Polly's house.

”He better not find out that we're here,” She warned, glancing around the house to make sure they were alone.

”He won't” The older woman replied, as her eyes remained on the toddlers who reminded her so much of her nephew around that age. Keeping her mouth shut on the matter, Polly opened the curtains in the living room, offering Y/N some tea.

”No, thank you, but do you have maybe some…”

“Juice!” Nick cheered, causing Tommy to immediately do the same, despite not knowing what for. Seeing it, Polly couldn't help but chuckle, scooping up the boy into his arms.

“What juice would you like, little man?” She offered, smiling brightly. Nick mumbled something to himself, looking back at his mum instead.

“I believe Nick would appreciate apple juice” Y/N answered, already knowing what he meant.

“Apple juice it is then” Polly replied, nodding to the maid with a light smile. It took no longer than a couple minutes before she returned, holding the glass. “So…” The older woman started out, her eyes finally meeting Y/N’s “He doesn't know, does he?”

“About what?” Y/N responded, her voice immediately changing into one of defensive undertones subconsciously which didn't go unnoticed by Polly.

“About them”

“Who says they're his?” She asks, keeping her cool, despite heart thumping in her chest faster than usual. Hearing it, Polly just chuckled, rolling her eyes as she turned Nick on her lap, making him face his mum.

“Their faces give it away, darling. I'm not stupid.” Her voice became sharper, as she didn't like being lied to, and Y/N was fully aware of it.

The younger woman sighed deeply, sitting Tommy on the couch as she began pacing back and forth.

“He can't find out” She insisted, clearly stressed out by the circumstances. “I've spent almost three years doing everything so he wouldn't find out, Polly. You can't tell on me.” Her gaze was fierce but clearly scared, which made Polly's heart squeeze in her chest. She wondered how Thomas must have been treating her to cause such a strong reaction.

“He turned all of England upside down looking for you.” She confessed, shaking her head lightly. “It's been a bloody nightmare. As soon as we got him off the opium, everything… changed.”

“I don't care” Y/N hissed back, pointing towards the woman she was once so close with. “These are my kids, and I won't let him get near them. He lost the privilege the moment he chose her over us… over me.” Her hands were shaking and only then did she look to the side, hearing Tommy scooting closer to her on the couch which made her let out a deep breath as she sat back down. Taking him in her lap and rubbing his back. “I just can't.” She added in a calmer tone.

Polly nodded along, lighting a cigarette and inhaling the smoke then slowly letting it out.

“Y/N, all I can promise is that I won't say anything, but… you know how he is. You haven't seen him after the… change. He's stubborn, and even if it takes walking to hell and back, he will eventually find out.” She warned in a gentle tone, wanting to give Y/N some reassurance but also keeping it real.

“Tommy stubborn? Doesn’t sound like much of a change to me” Y/N snorted, helping Tommy take a sip out of the glass. Polly watched closely at how she interacted with her son.

“He's the quieter one, isn't he?” Y/N immediately understood, smiling down at Tommy and nodding.

“He has a more sensitive spirit. He’s never too far from my side” She pointed out.

“A mummy's boy.” The older woman giggled, her eyes shining at the lively memories in her head. “He was exactly the same at that age. Arthur couldn't force him to go play, all he wanted to do was sit in his mum's lap, no matter whether she was cooking or knitting.” Her voice was lighthearted, causing Y/N to subconsciously smile looking at her baby.

“Let’s agree on something” Polly suggested, setting Nick on his feet, and the boy immediately started exploring the house, assisted by one of the maids. “I won't say a word about this to anyone, but you will let me see them once a week, and accept financial help from me. After all, I know how it is to be a single mother. “ She offered, but the tone of her voice showed that… she already decided.

“I can't take money from you” Y/N insisted but Polly stopped her with her hand.

“It's that, or I will have to tell him. You can't survive off on scraps raising little Shelby's.”

…and with that, she shut Y/N’s mouth. Sighing deeply, she agreed. “...and one last thing. Does.. anyone know that they're his?” Her tone turned serious as she looked into Y/N's eyes to make sure she wasn't lying.

“No, nobody knows.” She replied, shaking her head.

Polly exhaled with relief.

“Good”

***

A couple weeks went by and Y/N really felt her living situation improving. She could stay home with the children, getting to stop working every night which made her heart much lighter. Mrs. Wilson kept coming over every now and then after being told she would no longer have to babysit boys at night. The routine quickly set into their life, and the day of seeing Polly became Y/N's favourite.

Back in Birmingham Thomas was sitting in his office, leaning back in the armchair as his brows furrowed in confusion. Recently the figures in the accounting documents and the cheques and cash balance didn't quite match which got him paying attention throughout the weeks. Seeing the pattern and being sure. Going through the company documentation, the first file that fell out of the shelf was surprisingly Polly's.

After grabbing it, Thomas displayed every page on the desk and put on his glasses. Going over dates, another pattern caught his eye. Before, she was working five to six times a week, depending on the amount of work and circumstances but recently her schedule was limited to four days a week, every Thursday off.

His eyes narrowed as the nagging feeling on the back of his head told him something wasn't right. Glancing on the calendar, he decided what to do before getting up, and picking up the phone.

Later that day, Y/N found herself sitting on Polly's couch while boys played on the carpet with their wooden toys as the women spoke about their whereabouts.

In the meantime a black car parked by the building, turning off the engine before it made too much noise or got too much attention. Pulling the cap lower on his forehead, he glanced towards the right window, noticing the smoke coming out of it. Polly was home.

Climbing the stairs, he reached into the pocket, pulling out a spare key to her house. As Tommy was fitting the key in the lock, he heard the sound of a squealing child inside.

Did Ada visit with Karl? Thomas wondered, furrowing his eyebrows in suspicion. Why would Polly hide that from him?

Thomas opened the door and stepped into the entryway. He could hear Polly and the voice of another woman - a familiar voice, but cloudy enough to not be able to recognize. Thomas followed the sounds leading to the sitting room. As soon as he stood in the doorway, his eyes widened in disbelief, fixated on the woman he saw for the first time in three years.

There sitting on the couch facing the doorway was Y/N. She met his eyes and Thomas could see the blood drain from her face, causing her to go completely pale as the words died on her tongue.

Polly must have noticed the shift as she turned to where Y/N was staring and an audible gasp left her lips.

“Thomas” Polly said as she straightened in her seat. “I knew this would happen eventually. I noticed you were double counting. You’ve always been too inquisitive to keep secrets from.”

Tommy stared at Polly, unable to comprehend the situation as his heart pounded in his chest for the first time in years.

Polly stood and slowly approached him, stretching out her hand.

“I think it would be best if you and I had a word first.” She said, looking at him and silently pleading to listen this time. His expression was completely blank, but internally he was going through every possible emotion from happiness through grief all the way to anger.

“Not now.” He responded in a husky voice, and when she tried to interject again, he raised his hand slightly, completely silencing her. “I said not now,”

Hearing it Polly looked back at Y/N, giving her a sign to stay calm, before walking to the bedroom to check on the boys.

Y/N’s eyes narrowed as her whole body tensed, raising to her feet.

“Where have you been?” He immediately demanded to know, taking a step forward. As in instinctively, Y/N responded with a step back causing his brows to furrow in confusion, seeing this reaction. “Y/N?” He added, but she cut him off.

“I don't owe you any explanations.” She put all her strength into keeping up the façade of being unfazed by his presence. Her facial expression hardened, and her voice kept completely steady.

“Three years. I spent three fucking years looking for you!” He said, slightly raising his voice as he pointed towards her, yet not daring to close the distance between them.

“What for? Are the maids and prostitutes not doing enough? Why would you need me for?” She hissed with anger, the old pain she used to carry around with her everywhere slowly seeping back.

Right when Thomas was about to open his mouth to respond, they heard small footsteps quickly entering the room. Small arms wrapped around Y/N’s legs, little face snuggling into her thigh, immediately catching Y/N's attention. Once her gaze dropped, Thomas’ followed and his eyes widened, mouth fell slightly open.

“It's okay, baby” She cooed quietly, lightly caressing the boy’s head. Before Thomas could react in any way, another kid ran in, standing mere inches from his lookalike.

“Come on, Tommy!” The little boy whined, causing the other one to shake his head. “We play!” He squealed, shoving the wooden car into his brother's face.

The tension in the room immediately grew, Thomas’ face turning completely white as he connected the dots.

“We need to talk,” He said in a breathless voice.

“It's enough” Polly suddenly interjected, quickly coming up. “Don't you see he's scared?” She scolded the man standing by her side as she picked up the boy. Walking towards the kitchen, she grabbed Nick’s chubby little hand, leaving the adults in the living room.

Thomas couldn't stop himself from looking back, unexpectedly looking into the same eyes he sees every day in the mirror.

Not a minute passed by before the older woman returned.

“It’s time for you to leave. I'll see you in the office in fifteen minutes.” She decided, standing between him and Y/N as she pointed towards the entrance.

Tommy felt his mind going into overdrive with the amount of new, unexpected information that caused his temperature to significantly increase. Feeling the need to get a breath of fresh air, he steals the last glance of Y/N before walking out of the house. The documents he held in his hand, long forgotten, left on the shelf in his aunt's house.

***

“How dare you.” He said calmly at first, slowly raising from his armchair as the door fell shut behind his aunt. The calm tone was a signal of the coming storm. “How fucking dare you hide her from me when you saw what I was going through!” His voice boomed through the office, echoing off the walls.

Polly wasn't easily intimidated, taking a step forward as her jaw tensed.

“After all she's done for you, you discarded her like bloody garbage!” She screamed, pointing at him, as she tossed her purse on the chair. “Every single ounce of pity I held for you left my body the second I saw her empty eyes.” She added, taking another step forward. “I told you that you'd regret it, and that I wouldn't forgive you. I won't be yelled at for the foolish choices you made.”

Standing eye to eye with him, she saw the unwinded storm of emotions he felt. His right eye twitched just like his jaw, before he turned around running a hand through his hair. Huffing with rage he turned to face her again.

“Have you considered what kind of danger you could have put her in?” He hissed with barely contained anger. “or were you too dedicated to go against me to think about the consequences?” He turned around, grabbing the white envelope from his desk and tossing it into her hands.”The Changretta’s just declared vendetta on the Shelby family, and you took her into your bloody house!” He paced back and forth through the office, nervously grasping his jaw as the thought settled. “...and the kids. My bloody kids that you intentionally kept away from me.”

Polly's heart stopped for a second and her eyes widened as the realisation dawned on her.

“We need to protect them” She whispered, looking at him.

Wordlessly Thomas turned around, grabbing a phone and dialling the right number.

***

Over the next couple days, Y/N felt completely scattered. Fear soaked into her body, sticking tight like a second skin and restricting her movement. She felt stuck. How could he possibly find a way to walk back into her life?

Y/N was scared, not just for herself but for the perfect little humans she raised on her own. She kept them away from the violence and destruction that Thomas was the embodiment of.

They were good. They were kind.

Spending time with her babies and taking care of the house, Y/N couldn't shake the feeling of… being watched. Once an empty street seemed to never be fully silent, always at least two men standing around. She kept her cool, watching out for signs of being followed and on the third day she noticed a familiar car, one too expensive to be driven by normal people. Y/N knew exactly who those shiny black Bentleys must belong to - the Peaky Blinders. Her blood boiled as she realised her instincts were right - she and her sons were being watched.

How dare he interfere in her affairs after everything she went through because of him. The audacity was so great that only a man with the surname Shelby could be involved. His words swirled around her mind, mixing with the memories she held in her broken heart creating an absolute chaos.

Y/N didn't know what made her hate him more, the mistreatment in the past or the sudden forceful entering her life with the lively gaze, one that used to make her feel so beautiful many years ago.

Holding tightly onto her boys at night, she allowed herself to sink into the pain just one last time; drowning in the sorrow of being replaced by the man she saw the world in. She lived in the shadow of a ghost, walking through the corridors of a house that once was a sign of their undying love, only to be turned into a graveyard for all her dreams and future that would never come. Day by day she felt as if she was never enough. Her dying soul only recovered after giving birth to two perfect little boys that looked at her with those blue eyes and undying love she so desperately needed.

Opening her eyes, Y/N let the tears flow freely as she delicately caressed her son's cheek. Smiling lightly she noticed how soundly they both slept, and one thought came to her mind.

Since she managed to raise and take care of such wonderful boys, it must have meant that she wasn't worthless, after all.

Neither life or Thomas Shelby managed to break her.

***

The next day, Y/N made sure that Mrs. Wilson would babysit the boys while she went to Birmingham. Allowing herself only one night of weakness, she woke up with newly found fierceness and a will to fight for her peace and children.

As soon as she got out of the train, the familiar smell of smoke and mud came to her nostrils, making her a little dizzy. Huffing she walked through the street, feeling frustration growing as the distance between her and his office decreased.

The last thing Tommy expected to hear at eight in the morning on Monday was screaming coming from outside of his office. Cocking an eyebrow he got up, going to see what was causing the commotion. Standing in the doorway he saw Lizzie explaining to Y/N that she couldn't go into his office to no success, as the fire in Y/N’s eyes told him loud and clear that her patience wore thin. Moving quickly before the situation would escalate, he intervened.

“Enough!” He said, causing both of them to look at him. Glancing at Lizzie, he told her to sit down and take care of the documents while inviting Y/N to his office.

Y/N rolled her eyes, walking past him as adrenaline thumped in her veins.

As soon as Thomas closed the doors of his office, she started her attack.

“Why in God’s name are there men on the street and in your fancy cars following me and my sons around day and night? Why are you spying on me?” she shouted at him, anger growing even further as he calmly walked past her. Without another thought Y/N shoved him to the side. “Don't ignore me, you bastard!”

Only then did he stop and turn around with a sigh.

“Our sons” He corrected her, “I'm just trying to keep you all safe” Tommy added, finally looking at her.

Y/N felt like she was about to explode, but then an idea came to her mind. Her lips stretched into a subtle grin.

“Who said they were yours?” She asked, cocking an eyebrow with a mocking smile. Thomas looked at her for a couple moments with a serious expression before snorting loudly as he took a step forward.

“Do you think I'm a fool, Y/N?” He asked, mirroring her grin. “Everyone who has eyes can clearly fucking tell who the father is.” His voice was confident, not a hint of doubt, taking another step forward. Y/N narrowed her eyes seeing the proximity. “I'm the father.” Thomas couldn't help but add. He didn't want to make her even angrier, but the temptation to be even remotely closer was too strong, and if pissing her off was distracting her enough to allow it, so be it.

“‘Father’ is the last thing you should ever call yourself. You don't deserve to be around them, because they're everything you're not. They're good, kind and… have tender hearts.” She hissed, each word cutting deep into his skin and Y/N clearly saw it, because the pain was reflected in his eyes like in a mirror. Seeing it felt… good. Too good even, like finally gaining back control. Taking a step forward, the distance between them was barely there, as she bravely looked into his eyes. “He's nothing like you, and never will be.” She finished, the lump in her throat suddenly forming as his jaw twitched, any possible response dying on his tongue as she mentioned one of the boys, one with eyes exactly his own.

Tilting her chin up, she let out a shaky breath, turning around to leave when he spoke up in a low, quiet voice.

“If you hated me so much, why did you name him after me?” he asked but in a voice that did not expect an answer. Holding onto the small scrap of hope in his heart.

Without another word, she left the office slamming the door behind her.

***

“Y/N! Thank God you're back!” Mrs Wilson called out in a shaky voice, looking around the corridor to make sure she was alone before shutting the door. “You can't go to your flat! It's not safe, we need to call the police!” She whispered, fear in her voice so prominent she could barely speak.

“What? What happened? Where are the boys?!” She immediately demanded to know, walking into the living room.

“They're–They’re okay, thank God we were here! These men… they barged into your home, destroyed everything! We hid in the closet and now they're sleeping, but… Oh God, I was so scared that you'd come back and they’d done something to you!” She squeezed her hand tightly.

“A–Are they gone?” Y/N whispered glancing towards her apartment but the older woman just shrugged, tugging on her hand.

“Don't go there! We can't be sure!” She pleaded, but Y/N knew she had to look around before anyone else would. At least grab the necessities.

“Please, wait here. I'll be back in a second.” She quietly made her way to her flat, not expecting to see the degree to which her home was destroyed. She quietly made her way to her flat, not expecting to see the degree to which her home was destroyed. Tears appeared in her eyes at the sight of all the demolished furniture she worked so hard to buy, all the items absolutely ruined. But tears spilled on her cheeks only when she found an envelope.

One with her name on it, and as she opened it, her heart stopped for a moment at the sight of the black hand.

“Oh God” she whispered. Loud footsteps echoed behind her, making her freeze in fear before familiar arms wrapped around her arms.

“We were so scared. Where are the boys?” Polly asked in a weak voice, her face covered in tears.

“They're… they're safe. My neighbour took care of them.” She replied, closing her eyes until she felt the familiar heavy scent. Looking behind her she noticed Thomas pacing back and forth, kneeling down as he found a photo in a broken frame, plucking it out as he breathed deeply. A couple moments later he found the black hand, and the frustration on his face was clear as a day.

“Fuck!” He yelled, leaning forward as his legs almost gave out under the weight of issues he was facing now.

Y/N couldn't help but feel relief seeing him, which made her even more angry. She hated every positive emotion that she held towards him.

“It's your fault!” She said, quickly walking up as she punched him in the chest. “Your fucking fault! How dare you walk back into my life and bring danger to my children!” She cried, terrified tears streaming down her face as she tried to unload it on him. “I hate you! You bring nothing but pain and bloody destruction! I wish I never met you!” Thomas closed his eyes, not defending himself even once. She was kicking and screaming like a wounded animal. Only when she felt like her body was giving out, he grabbed her, pulling her closer and making sure she wouldn't fall.

“Let me go!” She yelled in complete frenzy, and the only thing he could think of was pulling her into a hug. One so tight she couldn't get away. “I hate you so much” she eventually mumbled out as the last bits of strength wore out, and she simply fainted in his arms.

Seeing them, Polly just shook her head and wiped her tears away as she looked around the apartment.

“Pack their things. The ones that survived. I'll go get the boys” She commanded one of the Blinders, before speaking up again. “Don't forget the wooden horse.”

~~

Taggin my people: @iilovedonnatartt @gentlebeari @narlytude @garrison-girl-08 @chaimaarouaine11 @bruhidkjustwannaread @reiwanwan @immyowndefender @jbrownta

JUST ANOTHER OF YOUR MISTAKES

Thomas Shelby x Reader

Request made by @justsumtuffstuff: Could you do a tommy shelby imagine where you secretly have his kid but don’t tell him until one day aunt polly sees you and is like “holy shit” but that’s not the surprise, the surprise is you have twins. Just a lot of angst and fluff pretty please? ((:

This fic will have two parts!

Warnings: angst, swearing, violence, grieving, a lot of pain, eventual fluff, smut

A/N: It's a.. heavy fic, so beware. Interact for more

PART ONE PART TWO PART THREE

~~

The land of Birmingham seemed to never change, not one bit. Ever since the first people settled there, the sky hung over them as if by force, never clear enough to see prospects for the future. Robbing the poor kids of dreams, of the loud thumping in their hearts caused by excitement for the good that never came.

It would seem that God has lost his way to Birmingham, not to mention Small Heath. Dirt, smoke and silence that rang too loud when working men would finish their shifts in factories seeking peace in their homes. After all, the human brain can get used to everything.

What was the difference between going to sleep hungry every night, and the relentless churning in the depths of her stomach that Y/N felt? Pain that never let go, waking up along her side like a loyal husband, never ceasing to accompany her throughout the day. Never loosening the hold on her heart.

Oh, how cruel the fate can be, Y/N thought, looking at the white ceiling of her bedroom. One she slept in for many nights too long, carrying the weight of the curse on her shoulders.

Because she was cursed, that one she was sure. Seeing the man she loved more than anything else in the world, losing himself in the grief after another woman.

Because that was the woman whose name Y/N dared not speak or even think. That's who she was, another woman. Embodiment of pain and betrayal of so many promises, taking away the beautiful, blue gaze Y/N yearned for so badly.

God must have been so cruel, putting her through the uncertainty of ever seeing him again throughout the war, and then taking him away.

Taking him away from Y/N, and letting her watch the process. Letting her see the distance growing, the dilated pupils in his eyes after each doze of opium, fruitlessly trying to numb the pain he carried.

Y/N couldn't help but wake up everyday, wondering how different his grief would be if it was her who died. Would he cry? Would he push the other woman away, like he did her? Sometimes the pain felt like too much to handle, but Y/N would never try to pull the trigger. Subconsciously feeling the weight of shame in her chest if she'd ever somehow found out she was right. That he wouldn't care.

So she lived, losing pieces of her heart day by day, warming his bed whenever he saw it convenient.

Until that one day came, that was. Hearing the... Scary, oh so scary news from her doctor she visited in secret. Putting both of her hands on her still flat stomach, she didn't feel anything physically. Yet it was enough to find the strength, buried so deep in her heart.

The love she felt for her unborn children outweighed the love for him.

The tension in Arrow house felt heavier than usual, as Y/N dragged her heavy suitcase down the stairs before slowly making her way to his office. The pain, longing in her heart slowing her down, extending the seconds into forever.

Y/N took a deep breath as her hand pressed down on the metal handle, the loud click echoing throughout the mostly empty room. Wordlessly she slipped inside, walking up to his desk quietly, letting out a shaky breath when she stopped mere inches away from the wooden furniture. His eyes didn't move from the documents he was reading, an empty gaze fixed on black letters despite knowing she was there. Y/N waited for a second, giving him a chance to look at her. Hoping he would.

But he didn't.

”I'm leaving” she said, loud enough to be heard. Silence followed her words, loud like never before as her heart squeezed in anticipation, silently begging him to stop her. To say something. Several moments passed before he finally did, making her heart stop for a mere second.

”Safe travels, Y/N Y/L/N” He responded in a cold, husky voice and for a moment, Y/N wondered who he was, wearing his face but sounding so different.

But the dust settled, just like the weight of his words as soon as she closed the door behind her back for what she thought would be the last time.

~~

Polly's eyes cut through his skin like a blade, her gaze never changing after that one feral day. The look of contempt and disgrace not even a bit different than one she gave him finding out what happened, back then.

”I was hoping you wouldn't be so stupid” She hissed, leaning forward, reaching for a cigarette with a shaky hand. Her eyes were teary, as she inhaled the smoke. ”When you were younger I saw your mother in your eyes. Now, they're full of greed and foolishness. Just like your father's” She spat out with contempt, raising from the chair. Quickly walking up to his own, she kneeled down for a moment, to meet his gaze.

One so empty, that gave her goosebumps.

”I will never forgive you, and... Neither will you.” She whispered. ”But you will have to live with the choice you made.”

Her words echoed loudly in his head several minutes after Polly left... And they never stopped ringing now, thirty eight months later. Thomas counted, every morning to be sure. After sobering up it was difficult to tell days apart. He rarely slept, fearful of the dreams he had at first.

He saw her, she was so close and yet no matter how fast Tommy ran, he couldn't reach her. Out of his reach no matter how hard he screamed or cried. Looking at him with the burning tears he caused.

It took him three months to sober up, give up on opium and... Feel. Thomas wasn't ready for the hellish pain that dawned on him once the drug wore off. The terrifying longing that dawned on him when he felt the remnants of her perfume on his pillow. The lack of relief he hoped for so badly, throwing away every single Grace's belonging he held onto previously, burning the photos and destroying the items, but it never came.

As time stretched, it became more intense. Thomas carried the pain and guilt wherever he went, finding the smallest bit of relief only in his office, searching for Y/N in every piece of England day by day.

Replaying the ways in which he treated her, internally setting himself on fire and forcing himself to feel every bit of it. Because that's what he deserved, to feel and carry the cross he created with his own hands.

Oh how beautiful the pain was, as he'd lean back in his armchair, closing his eyes and remembering her gaze. Her scent and her laugh, echoing so lively in his mind.

...but none of it worked, no matter how many people searched. How much money he spent on the search. Almost like she disappeared into thin air.

Day by day he was dying a little, bleeding through the wounds he so desperately prevented from healing every single time. Keeping the memory of her alive in his mind, not letting the hope die. Because it was all he had. Glimmer of hope. The leader of Peaky blinders became even worse than before. The pain shaped his mind in unknown ways, as the limitless cruelty became visible to anyone who dared to cross his path. Peaky Blinders were unmatched.

Nobody besides Thomas held onto the hope anymore. Knowing Y/N for so long, John and Artur knew she wouldn't come back. Not if her life depended on it. Polly only prayed for her safety.

...and Y/N? She stopped praying once her children were born. After finding out she'd have twins, she prayed every night for them to be born healthy. It was all that mattered.

Not the fact that she had to be using a fake name after moving to Coventry, mere miles away from Birmingham. But she couldn't afford to move further.

It's been.. so fucking hard. Everything. Y/N spent every night crying, begging any God that would listen to take away the pain in her heart. The pain that her babies only managed to lessen. Working as a waitress on nightshifts after accepting the kindness of her older neighbour. Mrs Wilson offered to take care of her boys while she works to help her make ends meet. Y/N had no idea what she would do without a woman she grew to call her only family.

”It's no problem, honey. They're little angels” She said quietly with a kind smile, taking one of the boys into her arms mere days after they were born.

The pain Y/N felt by having to leave her kids every night was stronger than the physical one. Having to work a demanding job after giving birth to keep the roof over their heads.

She cried, cried so much that eventually tears ran out and all she could do was.. keep trying. The two little people by her side were giving her strength. Light that she couldn't see before them, and only existed because they were here. Keeping her own heart beating.

***

”Are you sure? I can take care of them while you go, honey. You know how much I love them, don't you?” The older lady offered eagerly, caressing Nick's cheek with a smile, and a hint of concern while she glanced at Y/N.

”Thank you, but I will take them. The least I can do is spend time with them throughout the day.” Y/N responded, smiling sadly to her neighbour who just nodded along, understanding the allusion.

Letting out a sigh, she put her hands together.

”Be careful, dear.”

Y/N squeezed her hand lightly before pulling away as she held her son's hand, while carrying the other one on her hip.

”Always”

Travelling via train took no longer than forty minutes, and with each passing mile, Y/N's anxiety grew. She hasn't been in Birmingham for a long time now, not looking back.

Yet, because of her official address being still in the Arrow house, she needed to visit the office to complete documentation for boys. She put it off as long as she could, but it was inevitable now.

Despite the negative emotions, Y/N couldn't felt.. better, having her babies with her. The familiar facial expressions or blue orbs were enough to sometimes bring her to tears, but she couldn't love them more. They were a perfect little copy of the man whose name was engraved on her heart. The older they were, the more similar looking they were and now at dashing two and a half years, both boys were troublemakers.

Slowly making their way through Birmingham, Y/N held one little hand, chatting away with Nick, who was more energised than his brother who slept soundly in his mum's arms.

”...and dat?” He asked, pointing towards the building and glancing curiously at his mama. Y/N smiled at his curiosity, seeing how similar personality wise he was to her.

”that's a house” She replied calmly. The little boy cheered loudly, throwing his arms in the air.

"Yaay! Hooose!” He squealed making her chuckle, not caring about the scolding glances from other passengers.

A couple minutes later the other little one woke up, and started fussing because obviously he also wanted to walk now, while Nick wanted to be carried now. Sighing, Y/N put one of the kids down, and as she managed to pick up little Nick, she gasped loudly seeing her son's legs already in motion as he ran towards the crowd.

”Tommy! Thomas, stop!” She yelled after him, chasing him with Nick on her hip who watched the whole thing with his blue eyes wide open. ”Tommy!” She yelled once again, and he finally turned around, stumbling upon someone.

Y/N closed the distance as fast as she could, grabbing little Tommy and pulling him back to his feet, as she checked for any bruises – found none.

”I'm so sorry, i–” She started out, wanting to apologise to the random passenger, but words died on her tongue as soon as her eyes locked with the familiar brown ones.

”Y/N?” Polly stumbled out in shock.

Fuck

Part two upcoming

BETTER LATE THAN NEVER

Teenage!Tommy Shelby x Teenage!Reader

Summary: One kiss and plenty of definitions to the meaning of it. Did it even have one? Y/N and Tommy seem to have different opinions on the matter.

Warnings: a bit of angst, swearing, violence, jealousy

A/N: interact please!!

~~

"Aren't you mad?! He was... Standing so close to her! How dare he!" Eleanor everything but yelled, pacing back and forth in her bedroom after she watched through the window how the middle Shelby brother chatted with Margaret on the street, while she was almost all over him. El was red from anger, hating when someone disrespected her dearest friend. Y/N on the other hand was sitting by the vanity table, curling her hair and sighing deeply at Eleanor's words.

"Well... We're not together, he's free to do whatever he pleases." She replied, trying to keep her voice in a stable line. Hearing her friend's dramatic gasp, she rolled her eyes and turned around to face her. "El, I'm serious."

"but he kissed you! Just four days ago! How can you not be angry?" She asked with disbelief, but Y/N shook her head and grabbed her hands.

"El, let's just enjoy this night out, okay? You know my father's not fond of letting me go often. And maybe, just maybe we'll show him what he lost, hmm?" She suggested, trying to soothe Eleanor's anger a little.

The other girl just sighed, fixing her hair in the mirror for the last time before glancing back at Y/N.

"Okay. Let's show him"

Less than twenty minutes later they got to the destination.

As soon as they arrived at Y/N father's pub, all guests started nodding with respect, knowing what her surname was, and that she was not to be messed with. Shortly after arriving both girls got their drinks even though it was illegal to sell them to women without a man by their side, yet the bartender knew better than to argue. Irish music was playing loudly, and people mostly danced, drank and laughed loudly, having a great time.

Y/N's and Eleanor's friends already took a seat by the big table, greeting them happily. Time was passing quickly, half an hour later a group of boys barged in, knowing them as the local troublemakers. Mostly Shelby's.

Eleanor immediately glanced at Y/N giving her a silent nod as she went ahead to grab more drinks. Y/N herself couldn't complain about boredom, especially because she caught the eye of David, a boy who was a year older, going to the same school as she was. He was kind and mostly a gentleman. Even though the glances he was sending her cleavage didn't go unnoticed.

He was smart, despite his little self obsession. Talking about his hobbies, asking about hers occasionally, but mostly she was nodding along. Y/N was well aware of Thomas' presence in the pub, so when David started leaning in for a kiss eventually, she also did. Letting out a quiet sigh in anticipation she braced herself for the kiss... That never came.

Instead, she could hear a loud thump of a body hitting the floor and as soon as she opened her eyes, she saw Tommy standing above David, giving him some solid bruises. Her eyes widened with another delivered punch, when the weaker boy's nose cracked.

"Tommy!" She squealed, pulling on his arm. He ignored her for a minute, only when she yelled again did he notice her holding him. As he looked back, she pulled him out of the pub immediately.

"What the fuck are you doing! Are ya mad?!" She yelled, punching him in the chest. He furrowed his brows angrily.

"Me?! What was THAT!" He pointed at the door, leaning down to her level so they could argue properly.

"What?" She asked, playing dumb. Y/N was quite a little actress. He groaned with annoyance, running a hand through his hair before looking back at her.

"I thought we were dating but–but you were.. all over him!" He said in an accusatory tone, pointing at her. Y/N gasped at the gesture, swatting his hand away.

"We're not dating!" She responded in a confident voice, looking into his eyes for a reaction. He glared at her for a second before huffing in anger.

"We bloody kissed! I kissed you!"

"it was just ONE kiss, Tommy! It happens!" She tried to convince both him and herself, keeping her cool almost too well.

He on the other hand folded his arms across his chest, taking a step forward.

"It was just one kiss?" Thomas repeated dumbly, and she nodded in an affirming way. He didn't say a word for a long moment and when Y/N glared at him with disappointment and grabbed the material of her longer dress to lift it and walk away, he stepped forward again.

Before she could react, his big, bloody hands got a hold of her cheek, pressing his lips against hers again, but this time the kiss was longer and he held her closer. More confident.

"There" He eventually said, slightly pulling away and looking down at her, still holding her cheeks. "Two kisses now. Now we're datin'" He said in a voice that does not indicate any opposition. Y/N's cheeks grew hot and it took her a second to collect her thoughts before he sighed with annoyance.

"Suddenly want to date now, do you? In the morning you were all over Margaret!" She said, pushing him away with renewed anger, pushing her hair out of her eyes. Tommy didn't let her step away though, grabbing her hands and pulling her back, wrapping her arms around his waist and holding them there.

"John broke her glasses." He said, caressing her cheek with a slight grin. "I was asking her to not tell on him to her mum, you know, Mrs Lanchester. Our teacher." He explained calmly, grabbing her chin and making sure she was looking in his eyes.

"Oh..." Y/N said, blushing even harder, causing him to smirk, to which she punched him again lightly. "Don't smile like that, Shelby!"

Thomas grabbed her hands, leaning down to kiss her knuckles as he smiled again, before leaning forward and stealing another kiss.

"Is three kisses enough to consider us dating or should I keep kissing you some more?" He asked, his blue eyes glistening with mischief and the feelings he held for her.

~~

"...later he went to war, and I waited. When your father came back, we got married. End of the story." Y/N said, blushing as she glanced towards her husband. Thomas was wearing his mischievous grin, while kids giggled in the background.

"Dad punched that guy!" Twelve year old William chuckled, and little George just cheered along with his older brother.

"He was a cunt anyway" Tommy mumbled, and Y/N shoved him lightly.

"Language!" She said scolded, putting a hand on his thigh under the table. "David was just... Being nice." She responded, to which her husband raised his eyebrows in annoyance.

"Shush, woman" He said, giving her a demanding kiss.

"Oh, stop it!" Fifteen year old Madeline groaned with disgust. "Tell me more instead! How did he ask you to marry him, mum?" She asked curiously.

"Well. He took me to a very special place, fell on one knee... And asked me." Y/N added, smiling wildly at the memory.

"...at least this time he asked." Madeline said with irony, smiling mischievously towards her dad, in the exact same way he usually did.

"Watch it" He warned jokingly.

"Better late than ever" Y/N said, squeezing her husband's thigh and looking at him with love.

could you do a smut where it takes place after season 4, episode one when Tommy murders that butcher, so right after that he’s extremely pissed off and frustrated so he goes to the bedroom where reader is sleeping in the dark and he wants to let out his stress so he fucks reader roughly while still covered in all that blood it turns reader on a lot and Tommy’s very degrading with his words:)?

WHAT YOU'RE MADE FOR

Tommy Shelby x Reader

Warnings: death, angst, violence, angry sex, degradation, smut

A/N: Y'all better start sending requests istg

~~

It felt almost deranged, as Thomas stared in the almost dead man's eyes. Life leaving his irises, lungs choking on blood while trying to take a breath. One so desperately needed. His mouth wide open, pathetically attempting to inhale some oxygen which was already impossible. Last blinks, last moves before he fell to the floor, dirtying everything around and... Leaving the meat raw on the table.

Thomas looked around, only now noticing the state he was in. Covered in blood, almost head to toe. His expensive vest and suit pants absolutely drenched, not to mention the shirt. Letting out a sharp breath, he dropped the sharp tool to the floor, making his way out of the kitchen.

He had so much to do before Christmas. Since the cook died, he needed a new one. Tommy had to call around, find someone last minute and pay extra for cleaning and keeping silent about whereabouts in the Arrow house. So much to do, yet he could barely think with the adrenaline pumping through his veins, making his heart thump and his hands shake.

Normally he would take opium to make it better, but Thomas was well too aware of his wife's reaction to the drug. She hated when he was under influence.

Huffing angrily under his nose he thought of an alternative, and frustration grew as he thought about how difficult Y/N has to make it by arguing. Always arguing. Forcing him to eat better, to take care of himself. So damn loud and opinionated. Throwing back a glass of whiskey, his eyes landed on the staircase and the idea suddenly appeared in his head.

Without missing a beat he made his way up the stairs, leaving bloody marks on the handrail and expensive wood. Quickly walking through the corridor he barged through the door, his precious wife laying on the bed, beautiful as ever. Her white gown hunched up slightly higher than usual, revealing her creamy thighs and reminding him of the lack of underwear.

Standing there, simply staring Thomas felt his pants becoming tighter, all blood going south, exactly where he needed it. Quickly unbuckling his belt and pants he walked over, leaning forward he cooed quietly seeing her peaceful face.

His hand traced her cheek lightly, leaving a bloody mark that made his teeth clench. Deep, crimson red colour in such a stark contrast with the innocent face and white gown of hers. Without waking her up, he quickly pulled her to the edge of the bed by her legs, startling her awake.

"T–Tommy?" She mumbled, eyes barely open as he flipped her on her stomach with a growl. Adrenaline buzzed in his ears as he pawed on her skin, leaving mark after mark from the blood he had on. After a moment she lifted her head, looking back and seeing him completely red, which caused her to squeak in fear. "Thomas, wh–" but he cut her off, pulling his cock out and shoving her legs apart, spitting on her pussy to use as a lube.

"Shut up!" He hissed, climbing onto the bed and straddling her thighs. "I kept you safe. I've fulfilled my duty, and kept you safe!" He hissed into her ear, grabbing a handful of hair, nudging her entrance with the tip of his cock.

A loud moan caused by the sudden stretch and pain filled the air as he slammed himself to the hilt, not able to wait any longer. His hand immediately covered her mouth, two fingers shoved into her mouth to keep her quiet. "The least you can do is fucking take it" He growled into her ear, thrusting impatiently into her tight heat, feeling the wetness pooling from her entrance at his rough manhandling. "That's what you're fucking made for!" She moaned loudly, feeling the bitter metallic taste on his fingers, filling her mouth and making it hard to breathe which made her keep squirming.

Thomas laid himself over her, fucking her from the back, putting his complete weight on top of her.

"You feel it? The fucking taste?" He growled, pulling her hair with another hand. "It's a taste of your safety." His voice was different, clearly because of the chaotic situation he's been through just a couple minutes earlier. Y/N had no idea what was turning her on so much, whether it was the danger to this whole situation, or maybe him fucking her so roughly. "Answer me!" He roared, plunging even deeper than before, his tip kissing her cervix really hard, causing her to nod frantically. "Some cock and you're already too fucking dumb to speak, eh? Good thing your cunt 's always wet then" He added, cruelly almost, knowing how much she loved being degraded. "Nothing more needed to be my precious little fuckhole" He purred, picking up his pace, fucking her faster and harder. Whimper after whimper leaving her lips before he pulled his fingers out of her mouth and wrapped them around her throat.

"Shhhh" He cooed, "You don't want to wake up the kids, do you?" He emphasized the last two words with painful deep thrusts, making her feel like he was already in her belly.

"Tommy" She managed to stutter out, holding onto his hand which was squeezing her pretty hard, cutting off the blood flow and causing her eyesight to go blurry.

"I feel you squeezing my fucking cock. You like that, eh? Being fucked, covered in blood and treated like a cheap whore." He groaned by her ear, the free hand reaching underneath to pinch her clit and rub brutal circles, causing her to cry out weakly. "Nasty fucking cunt" He purred as she came around him so hard, before completely going limp on top of her. Pressing her into the mattress as his thrusts grew frantic, deeper and slower while her cunt milked him for all he had.

Only then did he let go of her throat, slowly threading his fingers through her hair, as they both tried to catch their breaths.

Tommy lifted his head up, seeing her so beautifully fucked out and smiled. Kissing the side of her face, he murmured.

"We need a cleaning service in the kitchen... and a new cook."

EVERY INCH OF YOU

Raymond Leon x Reader

Word count: 2.1k

Warnings: angst, smut, fluff

A/N: interact please!

Summary: The best day of the year turns out to be a nightmare, at first. At least until Y/N goes looking for safety within the so familiar arms of a man she pushed away. Was sacrificing their friendship worth it?

Y/N couldn't believe what was happening. Her eyes opened wide at the… sight, or more like the sound coming from one of the cabins. The party she attended with her long term boyfriend turned into the worst nightmare. All the time wasted, broken promises and times she defended him to her friends playing on the back of her mind, as the obnoxious sounds of Luke having sex with another woman made Y/N stop in her tracks, unable to breathe.

Only when tears spilled down her cheeks, she almost ran out of the bathroom, the door slamming shut. Her eyesight was completely blurry, only the blinding lights and familiar faces occasionally blinked through the blur, some people calling out her name or slowly making their way to her, wanting to talk probably until they saw the state she was in.

“Y/N!” She heard shouting from behind out of a sudden, and without turning around or thinking she pushed through the crowd, not wanting to see or talk to him. “wait! It's not like that! Please!”

Luke's voice became more distant as the distance grew between them, because she managed to escape much quicker being smaller in size than he was. She fell out the door straight onto the sidewalk, rain mercilessly pouring from the sky. Drenching her to the last thread in mere seconds.

Hearing the footsteps behind her, Y/N tripped lightly, slipping in her heels and twisting her ankle which caused her to groan weakly. Knowing she had little to no time, Y/N quickly took off her high heels, clutching them in her hand as she ran through the street barefoot, not affording to care what other people thought seeing her in such a state. Only a couple streets away she managed to catch a cab, jumping in on autopilot. After telling the driver the right address, she pulled out her phone from the slightly wet purse, wiping the screen and doing her best to stop sobbing, immediately clicking the right contact.

Are you home?

She sent mindlessly and a reply came less than two minutes later. On the other side of the screen, he furrowed his brows seeing the message. It was a well known fact that THAT day she was going to celebrate with her long-term boyfriend, so he didn't expect to hear from her anytime soon.

R: What happened?

He typed out, sensing something bad. After knowing Y/N for a decade, Ray knew her better than his own pocket, even though she cut down on the contact with him lately, because Luke felt insecure about their friendship. He couldn't say he was surprised, because he wasn't. Even though he never admitted anything, nor to Y/N or himself, he knew there was… something else to their friendship, and he never strayed from flirting with her whenever an opportunity appeared, despite knowing how pointless it was.

As soon as Y/N read the message, she knew he was home. If he'd be at work, Raymond wouldn't respond nearly as quickly as he did. Shoving her phone back into her purse, she didn't bother with an answer, instead wiped the tears off her face, gaining back some eyesight as she realised that she reached her destination.

After handing the money, she got out of the car, also barefoot, quickly making her way to the right apartment.

Water was dripping from her dress, hair and every single inch of her skin, making her look and feel less than presentable but at this particular moment, she didn't care. All Y/N needed right now was to finally make the right choice, and… finally feel beautiful.

Raymond was pacing back and forth in his living room, impatiently waiting for a text back that never came. He was quite worried, uneasy and absolutely stressed, so when he registered the knocking on the door, he immediately darted to the corridor.

The last thing he'd expect to see was Y/N, standing in the doorway barefoot, with smudged makeup and wet hair. But before he could ask, she walked in, dropped everything she was holding to the floor and her hands immediately clutched onto his shirt, pushing him onto the wall. Her lips pressed against his own tightly, immediately demanding access to his tongue, deepening the kiss. For a moment he froze, caught off guard by her sudden bold move. But then his lips responded fiercely, kissing Y/N back with bruising intensity as years of pent-up tension boiled over. One hand tangled in her hair while the other gripped the hip possessively, pulling her body flush against his hard planes. Neither of them cared about her belongings, or the floor getting absolutely wet. Raymond's mind went blank for a longer moment, but when he finally pulled back slightly, his eyes took in the sight of her teary face. He grasped her face, tilting it up to meet her eyes. Breathing deeply, clearly affected by the sudden closeness, Raymond asked.

“What happened?” In a whisper, his stomach churning at the sight of sadness drawn all over her pretty face.

Y/N just shook her head, squeezing her eyes shut as her hands balled into fists, holding him close as if she was scared he'd completely pull away.

“Please. Please, Ray,” She managed to stutter out, before kissing him again. Y/N’s hands travelled underneath his shirt, tracing his muscles and freckles skin with her cold fingers, causing him to hiss quietly.

Raymond's eyes fell shut at the sensation, his heart pounding in his chest impossibly fast. He couldn't believe it was happening, her touch infatuating him like nothing else he ever felt in his long life.

Y/N clearly had no patience to take it to the bedroom, as she took off his shirt, then reached back towards the zipper of her dress, pulling it down. Raymond held her hips, pulling her close as he moved onto her neck, kissing and sucking marks on her skin. He felt like it was all a dream, completely helpless and weak trying to fight against the way her scent made him feel. Wrapping him from every single way, making him burn for more.

As her dress pooled down to their feet, his breath hitched, seeing Y/N reaching back to open her bra.

In that one moment his subconsciousness seemed to wake up, when Raymond saw a few tears streaming down her face. Clutching gently her hands, he pressed his chest to her own, keeping the material from falling, not letting her bare herself in front of him completely. Swiftly moving them around, Y/N ended up pressed to the wall. He held her wrists, caressing her skin as their noses brushed against each other once more.

“Tell me” he urged, seeing the sadness in the form of tears. She let out a quiet sigh, before burying her fingers in his hair gently.

“He… cheated on me.” She confessed quietly, feeling ashamed of her own choices that led to this moment. But he didn't let her drown, grasping her chin and tilting her head up once again. Their eyes meeting, and Y/n relaxed in the way he held her gaze. She braced herself for the upcoming pity she expected, like people always give hearing such a news.. but it never came.

“He never deserved you.” Raymond said, his voice a little rougher, almost tender despite the desire. “Not a single second he spent by your side.”

Y/N smiled through the tears, caressing his cheek with a hand for a second before pulling him to the bedroom. Pressing their bodies together once again, her hands running up and down his thighs as her tongue licked stripes over his pulse.

“I need you, Raymond. I need you to do what you have always wanted.” She whispered, breaching the silent agreement they had, to never address what was happening between them. Never cross the line, but it was too late now.

He groaned deeply, turning her around as his chest pressed to her back, greedy hands touching every inch of her skin like a man starved. Y/N was going soft in his touch, completely vulnerable and on his mercy, small gasps leaving her mouth with every kiss he was giving her.

Every touch, every whisper, every sound pushing past her lips was making him dizzy, his manhood throbbing so hard, he felt like he'd pass out when suddenly he heard her voice.

“Make me feel special, Ray. Please.” She almost begged, making his heart shatter with the tone of voice she used.

He stilled behind her small form, seeming to wrestle with himself for a long moment as he felt his throat tightening. He was never good at talking at… explaining his feelings. But Raymond couldn't get rid of the feeling that THAT was his moment and he couldn't afford to lose it. When he spoke again, his voice was deeper.

“You're so fucking special.” He stuttered out in a weaker voice, slightly trembling. His fingers held her a little tighter, almost like she'd turn into ash anytime. “No one can compare to you. In every woman I meet I look for you, but it's never enough. You're… you're a work of art, Y/N.” His voice turned more husky, but with each sentence it was easier to… talk. She was trembling in his hold as he turned her around, meeting her teary gaze once again. Taking a step forward, Raymond forced her to step back, her knee touching the bed frame while he slowly laid her down, climbing onto the mattress, gaze never faltering.

One large hand caressed slowly down her spine as the other reached around to cup her perfect breast, kneading the soft flesh.

“That pathetic boy never deserved you. He's a blind fool who couldn't appreciate perfection if it slapped him in the face.” He whispered into her ear, kissing her neck.

He rolled the nipple between his fingers, pinching lightly. “But I see you. Every inch of you, inside and out. And I'm going to worship you like the goddess you are, until you forget that worthless prick even exists.” As he finished, Y/N sighed deeply, stopping him with a hand on his chest, making him raise an eyebrow in question.

“Raymond, it's… it's not about him, I'm not heartbroken, just… I'm ashamed of the way I treated you. I should have never listened to him.” She confessed quietly, her lip getting wobbly at the pure beauty he was looking at her with. Raymond cupped her cheek, leaning down until their lips were brushing against each other. His eyes shone like never before.

“Forgiven” He whispered with a smirk, kissing Y/n deeply for a couple long moments, making her feel absolutely melty. Slowly pulling away, Raymond locked his gaze on her own, lowering himself onto her collarbone and leaving a little kiss, followed by another and another. Carefully making his way down, he kissed every imperfection, every lovely inch of her being. Slowly kissing away the sadness she held in her heart. “Beautiful” he murmured every now and then. Avoiding where she needed him the most and going lower until he caught her leg, lifting her ankle to kiss it too.

Only then, going up, Ray rubbed his rough hands up and down her inner thighs making her squirm.

“Patience” He growled quietly, lowering his head to kiss her in the right place. Y/n writhed in the sheets as he kissed, licked and sucked her delicate spots, bringing her to the verge of tears as eventually orgasm flowed over her mind so hard she became dizzy. Seconds later he hung above her like a raincloud, pressing his lips to her own, letting her taste the sweetness he got to finally try.

“Please” She squealed, unable to wait any longer, and he listened, lining up his cock with her entrance.

“You're so special. So–o fucking s–special” He stuttered out with a groan, slowly filling her up as she wrapped an arm around his neck, feeling the need to have him as close as possible. “To me” he finished quietly, squeezing his eyes shut at the heavenly sensation.

Raymond couldn't say that, not yet, he didn't remember how these words sound from his lips just yet, and Y/N understood it. He needed time to wrap his head around the change in their relationship. Kissing his jaw, Y/N pressed their foreheads together.

“I love you too”

DANCE WITH ME, SHELBY

Word count: 2,4k

Warnings: swearing, angst, fluff, Tommy is a silly goose, blood, injury

INTERACT WITH THE STORY PLEASE

***

How could it get that bad? That one sentence filled his head to the brim, causing a hellish headache. Staring at the ceiling in the small room in the back of the building, just a wall separating the frustrated man from the chaos in the Garrison. Blue eyes, usually sharp and focused, now glancing all around, internally looking for that one moment where he pushed her too far.

A race of thoughts caused an annoying gnawing at his insides, going back to all the situations he could have used to… speak up, but he didn't. His foolish ego wouldn't let him live that down.

The music was so loud he could hardly analyse, but he successfully brought in the sight of Y/N dancing in a Peaky boys’ arms.

If only he didn't ruin it back then, Thomas groaned. Running a hand through his hair, he set the cap on a table before returning to the main room.

Straightening his back and looking around, Tommy noticed his brothers dancing between all the drunk people, cheering happily and laughing obnoxiously, just like they always did when there was a reason to celebrate.

The Garrison wasn’t normally a place for song and dance, but after the victory at the races, Thomas made an exception for his men.

Winning races was a big thing in Birmingham, no matter whether the races were fixed or not. Nobody would dare to ask anyway.

Among other people sitting by the bar, he spotted her. The woman so unforgettable, that there wouldn't be a day when he wouldn't think of her.

The sound of the door slamming shut went unnoticed by the loud crowd as he made his way to the bar. Several chairs away from Y/n Thomas took his seat, letting out a quiet sigh as he grabbed the bottle of whiskey that Harry instinctively set on the counter in front of him. Pouring a generous amount he nodded towards Y/n, and the bartender immediately got the right idea, pouring her a glass as well.

Tommy planned on watching her reaction closely, but to his surprise she knocked it back without missing a beat, making him raise his eyebrows.

Harry nodded proudly seeing the same scene unfold, before turning around and serving other people.

Usually at least a couple of guests would line up to him by then, but Thomas’ horrendous mood was hanging in the air like a thundercloud, warning off anyone who would think of coming around. Taking advantage of the relative solitude he let his mind spiral down the familiar way.. again.

~~

“What happened!” Polly gasped, slamming the door shut behind her, seeing Thomas and Y/n make their way through the small living room. Blood dripped from the boy's nose, bloodying the already dirty carpet.

“I'll explain, I promise!” Y/N yelled from the bathroom before another slam of the door could be heard. Sitting him on the stool, Y/n tried to breathe steadily just to not start sobbing again. Her knees burned like hell, but she couldn't live down the way Tommy's face looked.

“I'm sorry” she said, shaking her head while reaching for a towel, and dipping it into the small amount of alcohol she had. Her hands were shaking, and so was her voice.

“Y/n” he said, but when she didn't react, his hand grasped her smaller one, holding it for a moment until she looked into his eyes. “It's okay, nothing big happened.” He tried to convince, smiling in a silly way despite his bloodied nose and a black eye. “C’mere” Tommy added after she shook her head, pulling her in for a tight hug. “It's okay, I'm fine, I promise. I didn't want them to hurt you, and I succeeded, like a man, yeah?” His voice soothed her slowly, just like his hand rubbing up and down her back. After a long minute she pulled back, nodding lightly as she held his head, cleaning up the cuts.

Tommy didn't say a word for another few minutes, just watching her face as she worked her magic until her cheeks turned bright pink. Clearing his throat, he finally spoke up.

“I'll be ugly for a while now.” Was enough to make her chuckle, and like always, Tommy's laugh followed right after.

“Thank you,” she said. “For saving me and… and being so fearless.” Y/n added shyly, not used to them saying all these nice things to each other.

Thomas shook his head with a breathless chuckle, before looking down.

“I wasn't fearless,” he confessed, making her raise her eyebrows in surprise. “After all, have you seen them? And me? I'm… short.” He chuckled and she immediately followed. “But I couldn't let them hurt you, no matter what.”

“You're not short! You're taller than me!” she argued with her cheeks all red.

“You're a girl, Y/N.” He pointed out, grabbing her hips as she started giggling some more, the gauze on his face shaking along with her arm. A comfortable silence fell between them for a couple moments, before he got up, standing right in front of her.

Taking a deep breath, Thomas ran a hand through his hair.

“Will you kiss me for bravery or am I too ugly for it now?” he asked, trying to appear even more confident with a smile still plastered onto his face, ready for a rejection… that never happened. Y/n nodded at him with a smile as she reached for his cheeks, standing on her tiptoes and pressing her lips against his in a sweet kiss.

“Take me on a date. To the cinema. Tomorrow.” She decided as soon as they parted, looking at him with big, round eyes and Tommy couldn't help but nod, with his face completely red.

“Okay”

~~

After another two glasses sent her way, Thomas chuckled under his breath, eyeing the glass in his hand, when suddenly another hand pulled it out of his grasp. As fast as it disappeared, a feminine hand slammed an empty glass on the counter.

“Are you trying to get me drunk, Shelby?” Y/N asked, coming into his view as she leaned on the counter, eyeing him with a serious expression.

“You were drunk before I stepped foot into the Garrison, eh?” he replied, turning around and facing her fully.

“Hardly” she said, tilting her head to the side as she noticed his hardened expression. “What's got you so down, boss? I thought we're celebrating tonight.” Y/N asked half seriously, gesturing to Harry for another bottle.

“Business as always” he responded, lighting a cigarette and offering her one. She only shook her head, leaning forward and pulling the cigarette out of his lips instead. Tommy kept looking at her, not caring enough to light another one. Just drinking in the sight of her eyeing him like that.

Only after a moment he looked away, glancing into the crowd with a barely audible sigh. Y/n knew him long enough to be able to tell how troubled he was feeling at the moment.

“Come on, Shelby.” She said, swiftly slipping off the counter and grabbing his hand. “You're gonna dance with me” Tommy immediately started shaking his head but didn't let go of her hand even for a moment.

“I don't dance, Love.” He replied in a hoarse voice, but Y/n wouldn't take a “no” for an answer when it came to dancing. Tommy somewhat reluctantly stood and let Y/N lead him to the dancefloor. The music was an energetic tempo leaving little to no space on the dancefloor between dancing, drunk people. Y/n led him through the crowd right into the middle of chaos, to ensure he wouldn't leave at any given moment.

By the time they weaved through the crowd, the celebratory song ended and the musicians played a sweeter slow song.

Hearing it, Tommy looked at her with eyebrows raised, making her giggle.

“Too late to change your mind now. Embrace me, Shelby.” She said sternly, in a joking manner.

Thomas didn't need much more convincing, the thought of getting to hold her was enough of an incentive. Stepping forward, Tommy pulled her closer, wrapping his arm around her hip, keeping some distance between them for her comfort. She, however, closed the distance between them. Their bodies pressed together, moving in the rhythm. It came much more naturally than either of them would expect. As the music got more sensual, their senses became sharper. His big calloused hands kept her in a firm hold, leading her through the dance just right. Tommy felt suddenly a little more drunk than ever, taking in consideration that he had just two glasses of whiskey. The scent of her skin, her hair, the sweet flowery notes clinging to her skin made him want to get even closer. Closer than physically possible. Forget the alcohol, it was her he was truly intoxicated by.

Y/n could feel how heavy his breathing got, as he slowly let go of her hand, both hands wrapping around her hips and keeping her close. She leaned forward, both hands on Tommy's chest which made her feel even more… dizzy. His heart was beating even harder than hers. That was until he stepped forward again, and her face almost settled in his neck. The best part of the song came on, and the tension between them was palpable. Their breaths grew shallow and Thomas felt like he might explode if she didn't look him in the eyes just then.

Pulling back, he leaned down causing his nose to brush against hers, and as soon as Tommy's warm breath touched her lips, the song suddenly ended.

So did the moment, because Y/N immediately sobered, taking a step back and letting go of his touch.

Thomas could see the slightly panicked look in her eyes.

“Y/N” he started out, shaking his head lightly but she took another step back.

“Thanks for the dance, Shelby.” She replied, before turning around and pushing her way through the crowd towards the exit.

“Bloody hell” He hissed under his breath, trying to follow her as quickly as possible. It took him a longer moment, but Thomas finally burst through the door, immediately looking around and finding Y/N walking towards Small Heath.

“Y/N!” He yelled, going after her. For some reason it felt like an important moment which Tommy couldn't afford to fuck up. “Y/N, wait!”

Y/N kept walking, not paying attention to his shouting. Had he taken it too far with their almost kiss? She had kept drawing nearer to him throughout the dance, because the pull was impossibly strong, yet she couldn't bring herself to move past… that.

“Y/N!” He yelled, being mere metres away before finally a strong hand grasped her shoulder, making her turn around. He prepared a few words to say, but all of them disappeared from his head as soon as he saw her teary eyes.

“Why? Why didn't you come back then? I waited for you, Tommy, and you didn't show up.” She immediately said in a vulnerable voice, unable to keep it in any longer. “I was preparing for three hours to look pretty for you!” She was taking short breaks to sniffle quietly, and he tried to find words, but as always in such situations, it was difficult. Y/N had held onto the heartbreak of being stood up by him for years. The only man she could never hold at arm's length, making her feel so foolish. As he tried to stutter out an explanation, “and… and I..” Y/n started out, but got suddenly cut off by his voice.

“He took my fucking money!” He hissed out, pacing back and forth. Sighing deeply, he ran a hand through his hair while Y/N got… confused.

“What? Who?” She asked, her eyebrows furrowed. Only then did he stop right in front of her.

“Finn” He replied, looking into her eyes with his own eyes wide. “Back then… fuck, I was saving for that moment, alright? Times were fucking tough and… and I wanted to go!” He said loudly, rubbing the side of his jaw with frustration. “But this little bastard didn't leave me a single fucking penny! Took all the money and I couldn't show up in my old, worn down clothes and then… not take you anywhere! Not YOU, Y/N! Fuck!” He gave up on trying to talk calmly, the old frustration and annoyance coming back to the surface. “..and then, then you left Birmingham for a while, and i had no fucking clue how to come back from what happened. What to do or say. I was… I was ashamed.”

Y/N remained silent for what felt like eternity which was probably less than a minute. Thomas sighed deeply, bracing for harsh words as he came up, grabbing her chin and tilting her head up to meet his gaze.

“I'm sorry, Love.” He added, when suddenly… she burst out giggling, making him cock an eyebrow in surprise. Only then did she manage to reply between the sniffles and giggles.

“You're an incredibly silly man for a gang leader, Thomas.” She started out, and then.. he knew it would be okay. “If you came wearing a bloody potato sack and wanted to sit under a tree and talk, I would be the happiest girl in the fucking world!” She exclaimed loudly, pushing him lightly. “I never cared about what you wore or where we went, bloody hell, I was following you everywhere! Because I wanted to be around YOU, and that's all that mattered, Tommy.” Her hand covered his much bigger one, eyes becoming more shiny as she spotted the little grin on his face.

“I panicked. I can't explain how sorry I am, Love.” He added, his hand caressing her cheek while his softened gaze remained on her eyes. “I thought about you every single day. Not a thing ever changed for me.” He confessed with a heavy heart.

Y/n became quiet for a moment again before her fingers grazed his reddened, cold cheek.

“You look like you've seen a ghost.” She eventually said, making him chuckle as she pushed his hair away from his eyes.

Thomas took a final step forward, his face mere inches away from her own.

“Well… am I too ugly for a kiss then?”

“Shut up, Shelby.” She sneered, pulling him into a deep but sweet kiss. One she waited for so long, too long.

WICKED GAMES

Summary: Jackson had one task, to protect her while her house wasn't a safe place anymore, not after her fiancé got them in trouble with the wrong people. How is it going to work out with her combativeness and Jackson's feisty approach? The story begins when things get slightly out of control.

Word count: 4.6k

A/N: There will be part two

Rushing to “my” room, I couldn't even sob properly. Even breathing was a struggle after the situation that took place just a mere hour ago. Not to mention the conversation that followed, and hurtful words from my fiancé.

The only person who was supposed to be always on my side.

The whole situation turned on me, and yet, he had absolutely no interest in listening to a word coming from my mouth. I could still hear Harry's raised voice, hushed by a quieter tone coming from Jackson as he said something that I couldn't really hear. Fury was filling me head to toe at the lack of understanding. At the whole fucking situation that Jackson, basically, put me in. Getting into bed, I hid my face in a pillow, finally able to sob quietly. Ringing silence followed by a sudden, dramatic slam of the front door.

“Don't cry” Low, husky voice echoed throughout the hall, as Jackson's steps grew closer to my room.

I didn't even have the strength to get up and push him off the bed after he decided to sit down next to me.

“He doesn't want me anymore, he won't marry me.” I said quietly, my head turning to look at his face. Resentment growing at the memory of every detail of the conversation with my fiancé.

“Harry doesn't think like that, he just… got carried away, yeah? Got a little angry.” Jackson was convinced, trying to make it all sound better, but he was clearly lacking skills on how to cheer someone up. My blood boiled.

“Angry?” I sat up abruptly. “I was the one who almost got sexually assaulted and he didn't even bother to hug me or take me home.” I growled, my eyes becoming teary once again.

He licked his lips out of habit, I noticed. I had made a pretty strong argument, so he thought for a moment.

After a long minute Jackson sighed deeply, his brows furrowed and eyes focused on the floor in front of him. Suddenly he took off his jacket and threw it on the dresser.

“I'm mad at you too.” I said, sniffling in the meantime and wiping my nose. “For leaving me, and it's not the first time. You were supposed to protect me.” My voice grew shaky as I spoke the truth. We both knew it was right.

Jackson looked at me without emotion. Then he looked down at his fingers.

“I had no choice.” He eventually said, straightening his back, running a hand through his thick hair.

“You could have told me you were going with your goblin girlfriend, then I wouldn't have gone.” My eyes locked onto his face, I could see the twitching of his eye. He was clearly uncomfortable, but so was I and it was all his fault anyway. “Do you know how I felt when you just followed after her, and left me alone?” My tone grew sharper, accusatory.

“I'm not proud of what I did.” He admitted, clearing his throat beforehand. Jackson's body heat was slightly distracting. The warmth from him was highly appreciated, even if I wouldn't admit it. I pulled my knees up to my chest, wrapping my arms around them.

"--and that's fine, I hate you with all my heart." My lower lip trembled. “I wanted to be friends with you, I tried to make our time more pleasant, I even fed you when your girlfriend simply refused to do so, and you know what? I've learned that it's better to be a cold bitch or you'll get your ass kicked like I did. Like I always do.” After my words, silence filled the room for a longer moment. I thought that maybe they landed right, but then he spoke up again.

“That's not true, you don't hate me.” Jackson stated. Like he was stating something obvious, looking at me emotionlessly. I got even more angry that THAT was the only thing he caught.

“I do hate you,” I growled, grabbing him by the collar. Jackson was clearly surprised, and I clenched my jaw. “I wish you would suffer like I did.”

It was the first time in my life that I was this close to him. He looked down at me without breaking eye contact.

“You didn't even admit to him that it was all your fault.” I shook my head with anger, fingers tightening around the material.

“If I did, he would have immediately packed and taken you back to England.” His voice was hoarse, blue steely eyes still locked on my face, not daring to create more distance between us.

“Good.” I perked up. “That's what I would have wanted.”

“But I wouldn’t. I don't.” He said out of the blue.

To add to my confusion, Jackson's hands landed on my ass, pulling me towards him. My pelvis touched his chest and I didn't know what was so irrationally fucked up about that, that I couldn't get a word out...or push him away, for that matter. I just stared with wide eyes at his moving lips.

“I am aware that it's all my fault and I really don't know how to repay you. I regret it.” His voice was confident, eyes empty and hands firm on my body. My breath quickened and I had no idea what to make out of it.

“Grabbing my ass is not the best move.” My voice was dripping with sarcasm and brows furrowed in surprise before he spoke up again, shutting me up.

“You like it, I can see it in your eyes.”

…and then something very important occurred to me. At first I ignored it because I thought every woman was prone to it, but no. I pulled myself out of his grip and sat down next to him.

“Harry was right, I really do deserve to be called a whore.” I chuckled, shaking my head lightly.

Jackson’s fingers only dug deeper into my hips as he cleared his throat.

“I’d tell you something, but wouldn't want to spoil your wedding plans.” He responded with a thin layer of mockery, looking at me without blinking even.

“I know about his fleeting affair with his secretary.” I cut him off, sighing deeply. “It was a long time ago, I forgave him.” Shame burnt in my face as I said it out loud, hearing how stupidly it sounded.

Jackson hummed, just nodded and took a deeper breath.

“I assume you didn't have any,”

“Exactly.” I looked at him with regret. “So what if I sometimes wear a dress that's too short and nothing else? I'll be a whore anyway, Harry said that himself.”

He put his arm around me completely by surprise. I raised my eyebrows at him, taking advantage of the fact that I had the material of his shirt close to my face. Without missing a beat, I pressed my nose against it.

“Did you just rub yourself in my shirt?” His voice echoed throughout the room suddenly. Tone annoyed, pierced with amusement. My head tilted up, eyes locking with his own.

“I'm a mess and I could really beat you up if you start complaining about my snot on your shirt.” I spoke in a quiet yet threatening voice, which made Jackson shake his head lightly.

“It's disgusting and unhygienic.”

Couldn't care less, I thought before moving away slowly. Suddenly I gasped, swinging my legs. I was looking at the color of my nails when something came to mind. It just came to me out of the blue, I knew that if I didn't ask him now, I never would.

Turning around I moved closer, facing him. Jackson's brows were raised at my sudden body language change, but my mind was set on getting answers.

“I'll ask you straight out, have you ever spied on me? Like.. in the bathroom?” My cheeks turned bright red as words started slipping off my tongue.

And it was such a casual question, I thought he would immediately deny it and get it over with, but he didn't say anything for too long. I looked at him instinctively to see his smile.

“I always do.”

I blinked a couple times, his words not really registering in my head. Was he mocking?

“Don't make fun of me, I really saw you” I huffed with annoyance. Jackson was unfazed, still smiling and looking me in the eyes carelessly.

“Because I was actually standing there.”

I took a deep breath not believing him. He was lying like always, I knew him... or at least I thought so.

“You are a fucking prude, you certainly wouldn't do something that your lady wouldn't like.” My voice was full of mockery and amusement, but my brain was still in shock at his behaviour and words.

Jackson slowly began to unbutton his shirt. He didn't look at me, as if I wasn't even there.

“What are you doing?” I muttered as he removed it completely.

“When you undress in front of me, you don't make a problem out of it.” Jackson replied, not looking at me as he casually started stripping like it was an everyday thing. I swallowed the lump in my throat.

“Nobody said I was making an issue out of it.” Doing my best for my voice to come out unfazed, I couldn't help the low, hoarse edge to it.

“So you won't be offended if I take off my pants as well?”

I scratched the back of my neck at his.. question.

“If you're going to do this.” I sighed, pointing at the standing figure, now almost naked. “What's your point in doing this anyway?”

Jackson shrugged. His wider, athletic, firm body now on display. I did my best to keep my eyes on an appropriate level.

“I'm hot.”

I nodded, glaring at him. He sat down next to me and loosened his boxers at the crotch. It was the second time I noticed it, but I didn't look into it.

“You know.” I paused for a moment, thinking. “I’m hot too.”

I didn't know what was driving me when I simply took off my blouse. I was cold, but I was doing something that completely contradicted my reason. Then I took a seat on the left side of the bed and burrowed under the blanket.

“I think you should go now.” I murmured from beneath the cover. I could hear him clearing his throat as Jackson's blue eyes followed every single move of my body.

“Why?”

“Because it's inappropriate.”

He didn't move quickly. It took me a moment to see his massive back as he headed for the exit.

“Good night." he said before closing the door behind him.

Good night, what's wrong with him?

~~~

“Do you think pretending to be contrite will get his attention? Don't be ridiculous, I'll destroy you if you do something I don't like.”

“Jackson” I growled, turning the screen brighter so he could see. He looked at me from the kitchen “I want you to see something.”

I shoved my phone under his nose. He frowned as he read the first message I got when I got home from the hospital, and the second one this morning. Reading it, Jack sighed.

“I'll talk to her” Turning around he went back to making himself food. I sat there, dumbfounded and annoyed with his lack of reaction. After several weeks spent together he could be a little more empathetic.

“And that's it? You won't even react appropriately?”

Swiftly turning around once again, he crossed his arms over his chest, raising an eyebrow.

“How am I supposed to react?” The tone of his voice mocking more than anything else. I took a deep breath, smiling wryly at him.

“You could at least say she's a bitch and you'll deal with her.”

He looked at me, irritated.

“She's my girlfriend, it would probably be inappropriate.” I snorted, and shot right back, unable to hold back.

“But taking your pants off next to me wasn't?”

Jackson tensed so I could see it landed well, but he chose to ignore me, making me sigh.

“Don't blame me for the fact that your wedding plans are slowly disappearing.” Came from his lips suddenly.

I felt a lump in my throat.

“They are not. I called Harry today.” My voice was weaker than a couple seconds ago, but I spoke up with confidence. Jackson suddenly snorted, throwing the dirty fork into the sink and turning to face me as he leaned on the counter.

“How so?” I raised my eyebrows at the.. weird tone of voice he had asking this question. Accusatory almost.

I looked down, putting my phone in my pocket.

“His mother answered, and then—” I paused for a moment, wondering if I really wanted to tell him this. “—it occurred to me that I might want to postpone the wedding. I regretted getting that fucking phone back.”

He ran a hand through his hair before folding his arms across his chest.

“This is probably a matter between you and Harry, I shouldn't get involved.”

I looked him in the eyes for a second, nodding lightly.

*Yeah, you're right.” I shook my head. “I just wanted to tell you to do something about this fucking message and I'm also worried about whether the contract was signed. Was it?”

“Yes, I quickly signed it that evening.” He replied with an unreadable expression. I thought for a moment, his words ringing in my head. Quickly.

“Are you aware that you may have agreed to something inappropriate? Have you read it?” I asked quietly, knowing how silly it sounded to him as he's probably done thousands of such deals before. To my surprise, he shook his head.

“Of course not. You know, I'm a human and I actually felt sorry for you.” he pouted. “That's why I came here in the first place. To check on you.”

I had no idea whether his words were true, but the lighthearted approach was annoying nevertheless.

“I don't need you to feel sorry for me. As you can see I'm doing fine.” I snapped back, straightening my back and narrowing my eyes at him.

I leaned back in the chair, not knowing why I was still standing there. I had planned to leave him, but I wanted him to make me food as well, but obviously, he wouldn't agree so I didn't even bother asking. Although it didn't look like it would happen, he only put scrambled eggs on one plate.

“Would you like to go out today?” Jackson asked suddenly in a normal, genuine voice as he sat down in his seat, grabbing the cutlery. I licked my lips, feeling hungry.

“I'm not in the mood.” I murmured back, my eyes fixated on his breakfast.

“I was thinking about a… club, actually. I need to drink.”

I raised my eyebrows in surprise as I took a clean fork out of the set and sat down next to him.

“You, my dear? Aren't you too good for a club and drinking?” I asked with a grin, getting a bite of his food.

He looked at me strangely as I simply scooped up a piece of egg and popped it into my mouth.

“Um, from now on, you make breakfast.” I muttered with a mouthful of his scrambled eggs. Looking at me, he sighed.

“You should have told me earlier, I would have cooked a double portion.” I chuckled.

“You have plenty of it, we'll both get full, for sure.” I waved my hand as I started eating, reaching for the rye bread. Rippner didn't make any movement at first, but later - seeing my full mouth - he slowly started eating. And I even shared the bread with him, he took a slice from me quite distrustfully, which made me roll my eyes.

Well, that was progress. We ate from one plate, two weeks ago he would have thrown me down the stairs for that. “Actually” I started, leaning against the back of the chair, stroking my round belly. “I could go with you. Unless your goblin steps in again, then I promise you that I'll cut off your balls and you'll never fuck again.”

“She's not supposed to know anything about it,” He stood up, carrying the dirty plate away. I gasped dramatically.

“Are you going to spite her again? What if she doesn't let you eat like the last time?” Jackson rolled his eyes at my words, taking a gulp of water from the glass.

“I came to the conclusion that I also need something.. fresher.”

My eyes widened at the sound of his words. Fresher? What the fuck could it mean coming from HIS mouth?

“What do you mean?” I frowned. Jack shrugged with a barely visible grin, raising his eyebrows.

“I've known her all my life, I don't know what it's like to have another girl.”

I exhaled with relief.

“You finally saw the light.” I sighed, raising my hands high, towards the heavens. “I'm proud of you.” My words were nothing but mockery and jokes, but Jackson just rolled his eyes.

Once again I noticed him loosening his pants at the crotch and mumbling something to me as he went away. I just shrugged wondering what I was going to wear to the club.

When I got ready, I wondered if I was doing the right thing by going there. Last night, I was almost assaulted but I tried not to think about it, and… trust him again this one time, as I left the apartment with Rippner. We arrived a few minutes later but not without my groaning again because of the loud music. After a few drinks, Jack clearly relaxed, and after a second order, I managed to drag him out onto the dance floor. He was a little tipsy, I was a little more, but we didn't spare each other insults when I'd accidentally step on his polished shoes.

It was after two AM when we decided to finally leave. A taxi took us to the apartment building, and then we went to the apartment.

“Damn heels, my feet hurt, do yours too?” I asked, doing my best to stay upright.

“Mhm” he mumbled back, not looking at me. I grimaced as I walked straight after Jackson across the tiles. I grabbed the back of his shirt as he climbed the stairs.

“Will you carry me?”

“No” I groaned with despair.

“You were supposed to say ‘mhm”

He didn't expect me to jump clumsily on his back, almost hitting my head against the wall. Luckily Jackson caught me just in time and, sighing heavily, carried me to the bedroom. I sprawled on the bed, mumbling strangely as my bones began to creak.

Only after a second I realised that Jackson was still standing in the doorway. Swaying on his feet slightly, he breathed deeply while looking at me.

“Don't puke in my room” I warned with a chuckle, but he didn't respond. The silence caused me to glance at him, and breath got stuck in my throat.

“Mhm” he murmured, taking his shirt off slowly. Jackson's eyes were half lidded, and I could see him looking.

“What are you doing? You're hot again?”

My words hung in the air that thickened so much, I could barely breathe. His drunken gaze was even more intense than usual. Jackson tilted his head to the side, grazing over my body.

“No,” he replied, taking a step forward. “Just calculating how much longer I can stand not fucking you.”

Breathless gasp pushed past my lips at his words, as I slowly sat up higher, suddenly feeling naked under his predatory gaze. I didn't even respond, just shaking my head slowly as our eyes locked onto each other. I slowly got on my shaky legs, taking a step back.

“We can't, Jack” I repeated, even though my face was already burning hot. I didn't know whether I loved, or hated the way he became now. So… intense. I was losing my mind.

“A-and Harry…” As soon as I started, I heard a huff coming from him before he pushed me against a wall.

His eyes were dark with anger, lust and the dark, heavy desire he felt at the moment. Without missing a beat he took a step forward, pushing my body at the wall as his lips crushed mine. Jackson's hands found their way to my shoulders, pressing harder against the hard surface as his tongue pushed past my lips, finding my own. I didn't get a chance to even think for a moment before kissing him back, hands gripping onto his muscular shoulders, movements so shaky and frantic that I almost couldn't breathe.

”I don't want to hear it.” Jackson breathed out as we parted for a moment, looking deep into his eyes I could see a reflection of my own. Dark, full of lust and need. “You want it, and I want it. So we'll have it.” He groaned, leaning down and biting on my neck hard, making me groan out loud. He gladly took the opportunity, lifting me up, and pushed me back onto the bed.

“You don't even love him.” He purred into my ear, rough hands travelling down my body, touching every inch of my hot skin before I could even process him being so close.

“Shut up” I hissed back, my nails digging deeper into his shoulder to cause some pain.

His hot, firm body pressing against my own with full weight, pushing further into the soft bed. I couldn't help but let out a sigh, feeling it, hands falling off his shoulders and spreading flat on the warm surface, attempting to find some release in the fire smouldering beneath my skin. His eyes were just as sharp from a little distance, more.. dangerous. Cutting into the skin, leaving open wounds that would keep bleeding unless he'd decide to smooth them out with his rough palms.

Jackson pulled my leathery pants down, panties ending up as a piece of material on the floor impossible to wear in the state they were in. Ripped to pieces.

”You don't look at him like that” His voice coming much lower, booming right into my ear, accompanied by the sound of his pants shuffling, zipper coming undone. Blood in my ears was so loud, I almost couldn't hear my own breath. It felt like an out of body experience.

My left hand moved into his hair again, tugging on the strands and making him lean down even more. His masculine, heavy scent was all I felt, surrounding my senses forcefully and relentlessly..

”You’re ruining everything. You.. you don't even know.” I stuttered out, breathing heavily, struggling to stay as he started leaving wet kisses on my skin. His possessive hands grabbing and groping every piece of skin he could get a hold of. A low chuckle followed by a laugh left his lips.

”Shhhhh” He cooed, while one of his hands lined up his hard, throbbing manhood with my entrance. His red tip rubbing against the wet folds, making me cringe from the pleasure I felt. ”That's what you need, isn't it? Should have come to me sooner.” Jack chuckled, his hips pushing forward with a sudden thrust, filling me up to the brim.

”Fuck!” I yelled out in a muffled voice. The fullness ripping a cry out of my throat. As soon as he started moving, my brain felt foggy. The way his girthy cock stretched me wide, moving back and forth and grinding at all the right spots made me feel vulnerable and unable to fight him longer. My head fell back onto his shoulder, little whimpers and cries leaving my mouth as my hands kept holding onto his hair and neck.

”That's a good girl. Be a good girl for me.” Jack whispered with a grin, the pace of his thrusts becoming more animalistic with each passing second.

”Jackson please!” I whimpered as another thrust went right up to my cervix, the big tip of his cock slamming against it. The pain and pleasure mixing into a foreign combination.. one too addicting to let go. Practically hammering the tip of his cock into my wet, warm heat was overwhelming. Not a single thought going through my head. Jackson's hands groping and squeezing every inch of my body he could reach, his lips and tongue licking on the small, bleeding wound he created on the side of my neck, Bruising and soothing at the same time, whispering sweet nothings into my ear. Complete opposite of how rough he was.

One of his hands sneaked down, skilfully squeezing my breasts in the meantime, heading down the smooth skin until he'd reach my mound. Wet pussy getting pierced with every thrust, and his fingers pressed onto my clit indelicately, rubbing circles at a brutal pace.

”Come for me.” His demanding voice filled my ears, followed by the sensation of his tongue driving me crazy, licking and marking the skin on my neck. Jackson's hair fell forward a little, brushing against my sensitive skin with every thrust while he held my body firmly against the wall, preventing my legs from giving out. Subconsciously my shaky hands clamped on his neck, long nails digging into the skin on his throat and ripping a loud moan out of his mouth while his cock throbbed viciously inside me. ”Oh my god!” I groaned in a shaky voice, when the sound of his moan pushed me over the edge. The sudden orgasm that I single handedly has never been able to achieve with other men went through my body like lightning. Shocking every cell and paralysing me completely for a good moment but Jackson kept overstimulating me further, thrusting relentlessly into my pussy even though it was squeezing him like a vice. Tears started going down my face at the impossibly painful and pleasurable sensation and he watched, looking into my eyes with a barely visible grin. Not letting go and holding tight for several moments before I went completely brainless, on the mercy of him and his big cock stretching me so well.

”That's it” Jackson hissed, quickly pulling out and grabbing a fist of my hair, I hissed as my scalp burned when he pushed me down on my knees suddenly. His cock just centimetres away from my lips while his face twisted into strong pleasure, blue eyes falling shut while Jack kept stroking his dick at a crazy pace. After a couple seconds finally, thick ropes of cum shot out from his tip, landing on my face. His facial expression and the way he stroked himself looked like a scene from the best porno, and I couldn't help but moan as his essence hit my skin. My jaw just fell slack open. Catching some of his cum I wasn't thinking, mind still foggy after this heated and sudden encounter.

He kept pumping until there was nothing coming out anymore. My face covered, eyes staring blank on his face. Jackson sighed deeply, letting go of his still hard manhood, using his own shirt as a towel before running a hand through his hair. Crouching down in front of me he pushed a stray lock of hair away from my face before grabbing my jaw.

“Much better. So pretty.” He purred, petting my red cheek for a moment before pulling me up on my feet, and back into bed, wrapping his arm around my waist.

“Oh my god” I eventually said, after the realisation settled and my brain started working. Aching between my legs present like never before.

“Quiet, woman. Some people want to sleep” He groaned with annoyance, and I couldn't believe he was the same man who just railed me into oblivion.

THE EDGE OF DARKNESS

Thomas Shelby x Stepdaughter!Reader

Warnings: taboo, DARK!, smut

A/N: The song mentioned in the fic is "Till Death Do Us Part" By Peter Gundry. This fic is for Halloween, and there will be a few more dark ones. Enjoy.

Inspired by @majortom1947 request

His focus drifted away once again, almost driving him mad. Tommy slowly let go of the pen he held in his tense hand, dropping it on the stack of documents that sat firmly on the dark desk. The room was filled with nothing but quiet sounds of glass meeting wood every few minutes, as the stocky bottle of whiskey emptied in an impressive time. His usually calm and steady breath hitched in his throat followed by an exhale, making him sound almost like a martyr.

Wide, intimidating silhouette of a strong man behind the desk wouldn't give it away, but his head felt heavy, yet was spinning with the troubles burdened upon his shoulders. His wife's harsh words rang loudly in his ears causing nothing but annoyance and burning frustration under his skin. As the time passed between his fingers, loose as sand, the reason for their marriage faded so successively, he could barely remember it. She couldn't be further away from his idea for a perfect or even remotely good wife, but he did what he had to. Like always. Her Romani upbringing and a tight bond with the Gold family left him with little to no choice after Arthur refused to take this responsibility upon himself.

When it came to heavy weights, it was always left for Tommy to handle. Fucking always.

Letting out a deep breath, Thomas leaned back in his comfortable seat, popping a few buttons of his shirt open, as he carelessly tossed his red tie aside. In the comfort of his office, Tommy let his mind wander towards the thoughts so unwanted and forbidden, they rarely were present outside of his space. Knowing his own weakness, Thomas ground his teeth for a short moment at the realisation of how his control started slipping away. The farther down the rabbit hole his brain went, the stronger the burning bothered him.

After years of letting his manly urges slowly starve to death, dealing with the humiliation and frustration that came with being married to a woman so insufferable, she managed to kill his sex drive, THE thought didn't come unnoticed.

At first, it came and went. The next time it happened, Thomas’ eyes wandered to HER pale legs for a little too long before blinking the infatuation away. After that point… he lost count. He was only a man, after all.

Squeezing the bridge of his nose, Tommy breathed in deeply, silently cursing out the headaches he's been dealing with lately. Tommy imagined the smoke from his cigarette filling his body with hope of cleansing him from all thoughts of Y/N.

The hope died pretty quickly, as it tended to happen for people like him: people stained with burdening responsibilities and the weight of the world on their back.

As her image simmered behind his closed eyelids, his brows furrowed in worry.

What a beautiful distraction she was. A forbidden fruit, an evil snake from the depths of Eden, poking on his self-control and morals, whispering unacceptable yet impossibly beautiful ideas straight into his ear, driving the poor man mad. Leaving him burning hot and yearning for her touch. She tempted him with her beauty everyday for the last year. Her beautiful, innocent eyes, which looked nothing like her mother's. Her eyes weren’t tainted by greed and the dark shadow of death, which surely came from years of living in Birmingham. Lurking for people at every turn.

Y/N was different. She was raised away from dingy cities, in fields and forests, travelling from town to town with her father and rest of the family. Y/N lived far away from her sad excuse of a mother, yet still ended up having to suffer her presence once Patrick Y/L/N lost his battle to cancer. Not even the strongest of Romani spells could stand a chance against a body leaning so hard towards the path of self-destruction.

That's how she ended up here, at Arrow House with a disgraceful mother and stepfather who was barely present and silently pining after her.

The sweet girl grew to trust him, after several months of avoiding him.

Thomas didn't mind it at the beginning. He had no interest in fathering an adult whom he was closer with in age than with his own wife.

Y/N soon learned after moving to Arrow House that her mother had little to no interest in getting to know her, at any level that matters. The important thing was to present herself well in front of people, the audience, as she liked to call them. The audience watched every move of the Shelby family quite carefully. If Marilyn Shelby was anything more than shallow, it was definitely demanding. For peace, Thomas had no issues in letting her spend his money left and right, as long as it kept her mouth shut. With practically nobody left to trust, Y/N started appreciating Tommy's presence, even if it was entirely silent.

That's how the first two months passed. They lived their lives around each other without more than a few words when necessary, yet his presence became associated with peace and safety in her inexperienced mind. His stillness and calm, husky voice was a source of much needed comfort.

With each passing day, her trust grew as she let the guard down, Y/N’s body language clearly changed, not going unnoticed to Tommy’s bright knowing eyes

Suddenly, a loud knock on the door echoed throughout the spacious room, violently ripping Thomas’ hazy mind out of the infatuating thoughts.

“Tommy?” He heard from the door, and his head turned to face her. There she stood, barefoot, wrapped in a robe at least two sizes too big for her thin frame. Her long hair flowed down her back. Y/N’s intense gaze left him burning again, as Thomas cleared his throat.

“Come in, angel” He let out, his eyes grazing over her skin. He was braver than usual, the alcohol in his bloodstream made it more difficult to keep his painful desire hidden.

Without a thought, Y/N closed the door behind her back, making her way through the office, slumping on the chair in front of his desk. Her eyes were absent, not meeting his gaze even once as she silently looked around his desk. “What's burdening your mind?” His voice cut the air like a knife, making her finally look at him.

Y/N’s big eyes seemed teary, making his heart stop for a second as he sat up straighter in the armchair. When his brows furrowed impatiently, the dam broke and quiet sobs pushed past her lips.

Watching her slowly break apart, Thomas ran a hand through his hair before getting up and rounding the desk, eventually taking his place on the edge of it. Leaning down, his rough hand came to rest on her shoulder. He wanted nothing but to feel her close and now was a perfect occasion.

Upon feeling his touch, Y/N suddenly rose from her seat, stepped forward, and wrapped her arms around his core, seeking comfort. This Tommy did not expect.

His breath hitched and his brain was barely able to process the heat of her body pressed to his own. He trembled slightly and hoped she wouldn’t notice. A couple moments later he embraced her carefully, like she was made of porcelain, able to be shattered into a million pieces if held too tightly.

“She… She said it's over. That I've lived here long enough to figure out my life without depending on her—your money.” Her voice was quiet, fragile even. The genuine fear and urgency she held him with, made Tommy's heart beat faster. His other hand came to rest on the back of her head, petting it slowly as she continued at her own pace. “I’m… I'm not ready but—but I know she's right, I shouldn't… be here that long.” Y/N kept mumbling as her forehead pressed into his shirt covered collarbone. His hands’ movement came to a stop at her words. Tommy slowly peeled her away as his fingers grasped her chin. His gaze fell to her soft pink lips and he immediately regretted it as his mouth went dry for a second. Regaining his composure, he spoke.

“Angel, your home is here. You're not going anywhere anytime soon, and your mother is… not in charge. Not under my roof, eh?” His voice was deep, a little too deep for his liking even, as Tommy tried to light up the mood slightly. Not wanting her to see the way his pupils dilated seeing her so close. The way his breathing got deeper, chest raising and falling visibly. Her lips just a small reach away, tempting him like never before. The stirring in his lower stomach made it difficult to think, but Tommy knew one thing for sure, and it was that he wouldn't let her leave. Not his Angel.

~~

The next couple days Thomas tried to spend more time at home than in his office, knowing how Y/N needed him to be around. The more time they spent around each other, the less guilt he felt.

He liked it. He liked looking with desire, and not feeling burdened with guilt. Looking in her eyes during the late nights spent in his office, slumped in the chair which she called hers already.

And he? He didn't mind, not one bit. Deep down, he thought about it more than he should have. Even if she felt like calling HIM her own, Tommy wouldn't mind.

Driving back home, the gravelly road scritched under the heavy weight of his car, small turbulence in the cabin making no difference, as he barely paid attention to the road.

Only when the high, black fence started showing from around the corner, he forced himself to focus. Taking the right turn, smoothly getting on his property. The shaking of the car fading into oblivion as the gravel road turned into expensive tiles by the mansion.

He thought he had more time to solve the issue, Thomas thought, as a suitcase fell out of the window, missing his Bentley by less than ten inches.

Eyeing the mess, he mentally prepared himself for what to expect after crossing the entrance. Grabbing his suitcase, he swiftly got out of the car, quickly making his way to the door before getting inside. The screaming and Marilyn's high pitched, dramatic voice could be heard even before he opened the door.

Without a second thought, he climbed the stairs as the two women came into the view. Marilyn held tightly onto her daughter's hair, pulling down clearly, judging from Y/N’s pained expression as she sobbed.

“Enough!” Thomas boomed, quickly grabbing onto his wife's wrist, his rough, calloused hand squeezing so tightly it surely would leave bruises. The older woman gasped, pulling her hand back as she took a step back. Her eyes narrowed as soon as her eyes fell on his face, gazing with contempt and anger.

“This little whore stole my pearls! I found them in her room!” She growled, clutching the jewellery close to her chest as she tried to lunge forward again, stopped by Tommy's broad chest. “If I see her in this house by tomorrow, I'm going to put her down like a bloody dog, Thomas! Tomorrow!” She kept yelling, but he could still hear the quiet sobbing from the woman behind him. Y/n cried, holding onto her scalp that burned hellishly. Bruises on her face already getting darker while heavy tears decorated her beautiful face one after the other with no end.

Tommy's blood boiled, veins on his neck protruding from the heated anger he felt deep inside. His self-control ran thin as his hands shook with the urge.

“Y/N, go to your room.” He instructed, in a demanding voice. One of his hands sneaked back to give her small fingers a knowing squeeze. Feeling it, she nodded, wiping her tears away as she slowly let go of the material from the back of his coat.

Marilyn's cold, green eyes followed after her daughter, contempt and hatred visible. She hated how much attention she stole from Tommy ever since appearing in Arrow house. She hated how much money he kept spending on her.

Marilyn felt robbed, like it all belonged to her.

Jealousy rushed through her veins, even though her heart was stone cold. No feelings for Thomas Shelby were held, but she claimed rights to him nevertheless. After all, It was impossible to love people like him anyway, right? Marilyn thought.

Her hand met his cheek with a loud slap, as she took a step forward. Looking him in the eyes she felt the upper hand.

“You think I'm fucking stupid? Don't you think I see the way you look at this little whore?” She hissed with poison, her red smeared lipstick making her look even less approachable than usually. “If I see her here in the morning, all Birmingham will know about your perverted urges.” She finished with a whisper, her shaky hand petting his cheek mockingly, not caring about the way he… watched her. Blue colour long gone, replaced by the deep shade of the night sky.

Only then her heart skipped a beat as she realised she took a step too far. Shallow breath pushing past her lips. Eyes widened with confusion, pierced with fear as blood ran cold.

But it was too late.

“Goodnight, Marilyn”

~~

Y/N lay in her bed, clock ticking in the background, reminding her of how late it was. Darkness swallowing every inch of the room besides a small stream of light coming through the window from the street lamp. Heart thumping in her chest the only sound she could hear… before the music started playing. The melody grew louder, the familiar rhythm echoing upstairs coming from the gramophone standing in the corner of the corridor. A song she knew all too well after spending many quiet nights in Thomas' office. Note by note the tension increased with the tempo of the piano playing, coming to a peak as the door creaked open, barely noticeable in the dark.

Her eyes, used to the darkness already, noticed the flash of blue irises and the silhouette she knew too well. Breath hitched in her throat with each step he took.

Second by second, note by note. When the song abruptly came to a halt, his hands touched her face. His face hovered over her own, lips so close she could see every detail.

“Tommy” She breathed out softly, but before Y/N could continue, the song resounded again, almost like urging him to move faster. The tension broke, tearing a painfully deep sigh from his throat as his chapped lips pressed against her own. Y/N’s eyes squeezed shut, taken aback by the boldness of his actions. Her lack of experience creeping up her spine, causing anxiety but Thomas didn't give her enough space to dwell on the details. Crushing all of them with his touch, touching each and every inch of her soft skin with his calloused hands, causing some discomfort which he immediately softened with kisses. Music in the background seemed to set the pace, and as the thempo increased, his touch grew impatient.

“We—We can't” She managed to whisper, even though her throat was dry with a need she didn't understand.

“It's just us, angel. Me and you” He growled, his eyes holding the wilderness he was unable to hold back after all this time. His body tense and firm like a statue, as he kept moulding her flesh to his liking… and she let him, because Y/N didn't know any better. She didn't want to know any better.

Some sudden sounds kept piercing the music, catching Y/N’s attention for a millisecond before he'd make her forget again, touching and pulling needily. Soon enough her body was bare for him to take. Greedy eyes taking in every detail he could see in the dark, swallowing every sound from her mouth, stroking her womanhood skillfully, wanting nothing but to worship every soft, welcoming inch of her perfect heat.

“Just me and you” He echoed, grabbing both of her wrists and pinning them softly above her head, taking control of her along with the situation.

Music seemed to be never ending, as he slipped into her body, stretching and pushing his way into the space he claimed for himself only. Her innocence taken away so abruptly and harshly, yet she never felt so loved and wanted before.

“Tommy, I–” She moaned, head lifting off the bed to find his lips, which he immediately understood, giving into every need and every urge.

Spending all the strength he had to give her time, and not let the animalistic urges take over fully, as she needed… guidance.

“I know” he responded, moving slowly, feeling as she successively accepted his cock, relaxing into his arms and whimpering beautifully.

He was patient, slow and understanding… until he couldn't anymore, moving increasingly faster and harder, his hands squeezing her wrists a little too tight but they were both lost. Lost in the forbidden dance led by the embers smouldering in their chests, intensified by the music they both heard. Tangled in the forbidden, breathtakingly beautiful dance.

Y/N let him paw at her skin needily, pushing into her deep and fast, taking everything he needed. Lost in the experience and in the intense being that Thomas Shelby was.

Maybe if she was just a little less gone, a little more meticulous, she'd notice the dark red stains on his shirt.

The raw obsession in his touch ever since he held her for the first time so innocently. The metallic scent of blood on his skin.

Tommy couldn't let anything and anyone separate them, after all.

Devil and his angel.

CILLIAN MURPHY MASTERLIST

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UNTIL YOU COME BACK HOME

Jackson Rippner x Reader

Word count: 3.3k

Warning: smut, angst, comfort

A/N: I'll get back to writing more chapters soon. For now, have this oneshot. Please Interact and let me know if you want to be added to the taglist.

“Oh god, Jackson!” Y/n gasped as soon as she saw him through the peephole in the door. Moving as quickly as possible, she swung the door open, pouncing forward to get a hold of him.

He stood there, his breathing shallow and rugged. White button up shirt ripped on his shoulder, revealing the bleeding wound. The material surrounding it was covered in crimson red. His hair sweaty, beads dripping down his face as he barely kept his blue, cloudy eyes open.

“Y/n” he mumbled, taking a heavy step forward as he grabbed onto her shoulders. She huffed as he put his weight on her, and with some struggle they managed to both get inside as she kicked the door shut.

Hundreds and thousands of thoughts ran through her head as she helped him to the living room where he mindlessly slumped on the couch.

“Wait here” she murmured, rushing to the bathroom for the first aid kit that was quite… advanced ever since she met him. Grabbing the necessities, Y/n quickly moved back to the living room, putting it all on the table with her shaky hands. He looked barely conscious and her heart was pounding like crazy as she took his shirt off to make sure that the visible injuries were the only ones on him.

He kept mumbling something every now and then but she didn't listen, instead she focused on stopping the bleeding from his shoulder and stitching him back up.

Breathing deeply, Y/n tried her best to get her hands more steady as she did her very best to ensure he'd be… better than whatever state she found him in.

Two hours and some tears later, Jackson was settled in her own bed, wearing only briefs and breathing heavily. She wiped her face while glancing at the clock only then realising how late it was. Jackson was completely out of it, and from the look of it, he would be for several more hours because of the medicine she gave him. The medicine he needed to ensure his wound wouldn't get infected.

Y/n was aware of his job, and it was one of the biggest factors of why she decided to never let their relationship move forward. Just sex, they said before. She couldn't afford getting her heart broken.

His lips said one thing, and his actions showed another, she thought. She wrapped her arms around his waist as she hugged his back lightly, her cheek pressing to his hot skin. Only for now, it was safe to do so. He was unconscious, so he wouldn't make a fuss about it. The closeness with lack of any sexual intentions. Intimacy. Comfort.

As expected, Jackson slept for a long time before eventually waking up, a little past 7 PM the next day.

She managed to clean up her bathroom and couch from his blood, getting her apartment to become squeaky clean because of the anxiety she was feeling. Y/n tried to be productive instead of impatiently waiting at him and biting her nails.

“Y/n” He said in a hoarse, husky voice before grimacing slightly because of the dryness and pain in his throat. Hearing him, she jumped a little, clearly startled as her book fell on the floor with a thud.

“Oh shit, you scared me.” Y/n said, with a hand on her chest as she eyed him quickly before getting up to get a glass of water for him, hearing the state of his throat. “How are you feeling?” She asked quietly after handing him the glass. Her brows slightly furrowed at his unusually pale skin.

“As wonderful as I look” He replied with a scoff after drinking the water and setting the glass aside with a groan.

“You were really hurt this time.” She started quietly, fidgeting with her fingers for a moment as she kept looking at him. “You’ve been asleep for over twenty four hours, Jackson. You—you need to tell me what happened.” She says eventually, crossing her arms over her chest as her frustration grew. She knew how unhappy he was whenever she'd ask questions, and Y/n liked his presence too much to risk losing him over that. So she wouldn't ask, not usually, but this time was different. It was too big to pretend like it didn't happen.

His pale, blue eyes avoided looking directly into hers as he let out a deep breath. His frame was tense.

“Don't act stupid, you know damn well what I do for a living, sweetheart.” He replied. “It's not always all rainbows and flowers.” The sarcasm smoothly made its way down his tongue, as always, seemed like. Y/n got used to the fact Jackson was fluent in this particular thing.

Hearing his tone her body tensed in a combative manner. Squeezing her first, she pointed at him with the other, shaking hand.

“Don't you fucking dare talk to me this way after I spent my whole night stitching you up, preventing you from bleeding out, and barely closing my eyes to make sure you were bloody alive!” Her voice shook slightly every now and then as she tried to stand her ground against him. “It's YOUR work to do… all that, but is it my work to always stitch you up afterwards? Why the hell do you come here since I don't deserve even a brief explanation?” She demanded to know, looking intently at him as she wrapped her arms around herself for some, much needed at the moment, comfort.

Jackson tilted his head slightly, raising his chin as he finally looked her in the eyes. His facial expression was impossible to read, as always.

But the one thing she was perfect at, was reading his eyes. Ever since day one, Jackson would always try to avoid eye contact in such situations. Even though his stare never failed before, and he was going through life thinking he mastered it.

Well, maybe he did. Y/n was the only one who saw more in his bright, storm and tempest filled eyes. So he'd purposely put a wall between the two of them. She knew him too well to believe in the theatrics he was so prone to use on people.

“Your apartment was the closest place I could think of at the moment. It's not that deep.” His voice was low and emotionless, husky from the lack of usage in the last twenty four hours but he managed to keep up the eye contact for just a few seconds before looking away.

Yet, it hurt her. Sighing deeply, she shook her head and made her way to the kitchen as Jackson slowly got up from her bed.

Looking around for his pants, he ran a hand through his hair with a groan. The one thing he could admit to himself was that seeing disappointment in her eyes wasn't… nice. It didn't feel good.

“So… when can I see you now?” He asked casually, trying to break the tension after a couple minutes, thinking that she just gave up asking him questions like always, after he'd shut her down.

The silence hung in the air for a longer moment, charged with unsaid words and buzzing emotions. Y/n was tired, visibly and mentally.

“Don't come here anymore, Jack. I can't do it.”

A quiet voice came from the kitchen, making his heart stop for a moment and his eyes to widen. Turning around he walked up to her, leaning on the counter.

“Come on, you're not mad at me, are you?” He asked, raising his eyebrows, not understanding the vulnerable expressions on her face, which she never hid. Y/n wasn't scared to be vulnerable with her feelings around him, which was always a source of conflicted emotions within himself.

With a resigned sigh, she put the knife and veggies down, looking up at him.

“No, it's… it's more than that. I just can't do what you're expecting of me.” She started, shaking her head a little. “Just—just fuck you, and then, then take care of you and never care enough to ask. I can't do that. It's—it's not me, I'm sorry.” The way her body language changed, the vulnerability and raw hurt in her voice made the annoyingly painful feeling gnaw at this one spot in his chest. He didn't know what to say for a moment before turning around and walking a couple steps through her living room. Anger and confusion grew in his head, as the only real emotions he knew so well. Hand tugging on his hair as he let out a humourless laugh.

“You don't mean it. We're just—just arguing again.” He said, trying to convince either her or himself, but the feeling of dread already settled between his ribs. His voice came out louder than intended, accusing even.

As the response didn't come, he turned around again facing her. Taking a couple fast steps he winced at the sharp pain in his shoulder.

“What do you want me to say, Y/n? We talked about it before, I— fucking can't tell you anything!” He said with sharp anger bubbling beneath the surface.

“Jackson, I said I get it! I just can't do what you want me to!” She exclaimed, her voice an octave higher than usually at his sudden outburst. She felt panicked with what was happening. With the idea of never seeing him again, and with what she was feeling at the moment. The feelings accompanying her were much more complex than she'd like them to be.

“Then why are you so fucking dramatic about it!” He continued pacing back and forth, not handling the situation very well, or picking up on the irony of his words.

Y/n raised her eyebrows with a scoff.

“Me? I'm just breaking it off, Jackson. You are the one yelling at me and running around my living room.” She pointed out, keeping the pain hidden away. For now.

He stopped in his tracks immediately as she called him out on the frantic behaviour.

“I wouldn't if you weren't like… this!” He spat out, his blue eyes filled with coldness and anger. The sudden motion as he swung his arm, caused the stitches to rip and blood started dripping down his arm. “Fuck!”

Y/n’s eyes widened immediately.

“Jack, calm down! Your arm!” She squealed, making him raise his eyebrows in surprise. Her hand grasped his bigger one as she pulled him to the bathroom, pushing him to sit on the edge of the bathtub. It was a fairly small room, with not much space after he'd fill it out with his wide frame, so without a second thought she slumped on his lap.

He sat here wordlessly, the combative facial expression still decorating his handsome face as she worked on the wound, cleansing it before getting to the stitching.

He didn't make a sound until the last stitch, when he suddenly let out a loud hiss at the particularly painful movement of the needle in his skin.

“Sorry” she said quietly out of habit. “You need to stop thrashing like a wild animal for the next few days.” Y/n added, concerned with his state.

Jackson scoffed, tensing as he looked in her eyes accusingly.

“Don't tell me what to do. You dumped me.” His voice was low and grumbly, still carrying some anger in it, but the way he put it made Y/n let out a giggle uncontrollably. His gaze softened slightly. He sounded like an offended child.

“As far as I know, we weren't together, Jackson.” Her voice was more playful than anything as she finished the stitching, putting the tools aside. Caressing the skin on his arm, Y/n sighed.

Jackson kept looking at her with a lump forming in his throat. After a minute he broke the silence.

“I don't know what you want me to say, but you won’t hear…” He started before clearing his throat, unsure of what words to use. Of how to explain.”—hear THAT from me, Y/n. I just can't.” He said quietly, his hands holding her hips, thumbs rubbing little circles on her soft skin. The silence settled in the air again, as she felt he wasn't finished just yet. Just needed some more time to recollect his words. “...but I don't want to not see you anymore.” He sounded weaker than ever, more… vulnerable. The trait she wanted to see in him so badly, making her heart soften in an instant.

Feeling the surge of hope rushing through her veins, she raised her hands to his face, tilting his head up so her eyes would meet his. Her eyes were– bright again, Jackson noticed subconsciously.

“You don't want to lose me.” She stated with confidence, knowing what he meant. Jackson neither denied nor confirmed, sighing deeply as he squeezed his eyes shut. “Say it.” She demanded, caressing his skin and as soon as he looked again, searching his blue eyes for anything that would show her she was wrong. She didn't find anything.

He took a deep breath, his fingers digging into her skin harder.

“I don't want to lose you.” He repeated, sounding like the words almost drowned him, but he knew it was a turning point. Jack knew she was – patient and understanding. It would be enough. They stared at each other for a longer moment before she touched his cheek with a little chuckle.

Seeing her eyes so shiny and cheeks blushed, Jackson regretted he didn't say it sooner. It took a lot, but it was worth it. Leaning forward, he pressed his forehead against hers.

“What's so funny?” He scoffed playfully, looking at her lips with a deep breath.

Y/n leaned in, kissing him in a way that took his breath away for a mere moment making him forget who they were. Who he was. A way that she wouldn't dare to kiss him before.

“Stubborn man” she let out with a sigh after pulling away.

Only then did she get up, pulling him back to the bedroom deciding that she'd force him to rest if he wouldn't agree right away.

***

Slowly opening her eyes, Y/n wiped her face with a yawn before she noticed he was awake. The admirably blue eyes looked at her halfway open with a smirk, and for a second she got mad at him for never staying the whole night before. The view was wonderful.

“Hi” She said with a chuckle, making him raise his eyebrow in amusement.

“Hi,” He replied, pulling her closer. Her dishevelled state made her even more attractive than usual, in a completely different way. It was a way that Jackson never looked at other women before which was a little scary, but well. He was way too sleepy to think about it now. With his own eyes barely open and vulnerable as never before, he let out a chuckle. It felt so easy at the moment, like he wasn't a killer without any actual identity. Like he had a chance for a life with the beautiful woman by his side.

Stretching with a groan he shifted to the side, being fairly careful with his injured shoulder. Jackson's hand landed on Y/n’s bare hip as her shirt shifted up, revealing her pale skin. She opened her eyes again, glancing at him as she heard the throaty purr coming from his mouth.

“Jackson” She warned with a giggle, knowing his intentions too well. “You're–” She started, but before she'd manage to finish, he flipped her on her back, hanging over her like a thundercloud. “–injured.” Her voice was defeated with an undertone of humour at his mischievous doings.

“Still healthy enough.” He replied, leaning down and grazing his nose over her neck. After two years of seeing only her, he wasn't able to prevent associating her scent with something– familiar.

Home

Pressed so tightly against her, Jackson felt the familiar stirring in his lower stomach, making him sigh deeply. His warm breath wrapped itself around her skin, making her shiver with delight. He leaned down, biting onto her neck lightly as his hands began stripping her of the pajama pants she was wearing.

She let it happen, until she didn't. Her smaller hand getting a hold of his wrist.

“In my way.” She said, turning her head to meet his eyes. “My way or not at all. Your stitches will probably burst again if I agree to do it the usual way.” She said with a voice that allowed no opposition. That was a voice he rarely heard, but the feisty look in her eyes was clear. She wouldn't bend under his will because she cared about his health.

With a loud, dramatic sigh he slumped on the bed, giving up. Seeing it, Y/n chuckled, raising her brows. Pointing at the tent in his underwear, she asked.

“So you need help with that or not?” Her voice was full of amusement and clear lighthearted mockery. Jackson's eyes immediately shifted to her face.

“Don't push it before I change my mind” he grumbled with a hidden smirk, making her laugh out louder as she got up, pulling her underwear down all the way before she straddled his hips.

Her soft hand began travelling down his chest, tracing every inch of his skin, appreciating the masculine firmness to him. The sensation of his muscles against her delicate fingers.

The air in the room immediately shifted, and Jackson's expression changed. His brows slightly furrowed, as he watched her actions. He was clearly confused, never touched with such intention before in his life. His muscles tensed beneath her fingers, almost expecting pain to come any second now.

Violence was all he knew. She understood it, but it nevertheless broke her heart a little bit.

Looking him in the eyes, she leaned forward, her lips following the path her fingers travelled. She left little kisses on each scar and imperfection she encountered.

Jackson wasn't sure what he felt. Whether he liked it or not, he was more confused than ever before. That's why when she reached the V on his lower stomach, still kissing, he rose up slightly.

“Don't” he said quietly. The atmosphere was so intimate and vulnerable, that for once in his life, he didn't feel up to being pleasured in such a way. He already let her do too much, Jackson thought.

Y/n looked up, meeting his bright eyes with her own. The tension and– fear on his face was visible for the first time since she ever met him.

Nodding lightly, she came back up, kissing him passionately as her hands worked on his underwear, pulling it down and stroking his hard length. Deep groans pushed past his lips with each move as his eyes fell shut. He looked more beautiful than ever, Y/n thought seeing him then.

Only the sensation of her warmth engulfing his manhood brought Jackson back, making him open his eyes and letting his jaw fall open.

“Fuck” he gasped, as she leaned back, supporting herself by holding onto his stomach, not forgetting about his injury.

His hands gripped onto her hips. Still sitting up, Jackson tried moving her on top of his hips to get her to move faster, but Y/n wasn't having any of it. Pushing him back, she leaned forward and captured his lips in a searing kiss while she sensually moved. She was in no rush. Y/n enjoyed every sensation the connection between them was giving her. The slow pace was making him more sensitive to their surroundings than the usual frantic rhythm. The sound of her quiet sighs and whimpers filled his ears like the most beautiful melody. The way her face gave away the all-consuming bliss she experienced from how he felt inside her, but also from how… close they were. Jackson felt like he was slipping. The situation was getting out of control as his mind started spiralling into the vulnerability, which he desperately didn't want to happen.

Looking up, he noticed Y/n watching his face intently, her mouth slightly open as she moved to her own rhythm. Her breasts swayed with each movement before she leaned down, kissing all over his neck while her hands travelled around his collarbones, caressing his skin.

Wordlessly Jackson's bigger hand slowly grabbed hers, moving it up towards his throat, wrapping it suggestively with a certain look in his eyes. Y/n knew.

Of course she did.

With a quiet sigh, she shook her head lightly, moving upwards to his cheek, the gentle touch sending shockwaves down his spine as she watched him with care and gentleness he never experienced.

Covering her hand with his own, Jackson sat up lightly, moving her closer. He didn't fight it anymore.

“You're so beautiful” He breathed out, wrapping his arm around her waist and capturing her lips in a deep, sensual dance as she caressed his hair. They both seemed to get lost in the sensations, drowning in each other's presence without any will or need to seek saving.

As Y/n squeezed her eyes, her body tensing on top of his, Jackson knew she was coming. Leaning his forehead on her collarbone, he followed right after. For the first time in his life, he realised that the way she held him felt even better than the most amazing orgasm he ever experienced.

…and just like that, Jackson knew he’d stay the night, and countless more.

Because even if he couldn't name or say it, he knew the reason why he would keep coming back.

***

Taglist: @lau219 @xsweetcatastrophe

UNTIL YOU COME BACK HOME

Jackson Rippner x Reader

Word count: 3.3k

Warning: smut, angst, comfort

A/N: I'll get back to writing more chapters soon. For now, have this oneshot. Please Interact and let me know if you want to be added to the taglist.

“Oh god, Jackson!” Y/n gasped as soon as she saw him through the peephole in the door. Moving as quickly as possible, she swung the door open, pouncing forward to get a hold of him.

He stood there, his breathing shallow and rugged. White button up shirt ripped on his shoulder, revealing the bleeding wound. The material surrounding it was covered in crimson red. His hair sweaty, beads dripping down his face as he barely kept his blue, cloudy eyes open.

“Y/n” he mumbled, taking a heavy step forward as he grabbed onto her shoulders. She huffed as he put his weight on her, and with some struggle they managed to both get inside as she kicked the door shut.

Hundreds and thousands of thoughts ran through her head as she helped him to the living room where he mindlessly slumped on the couch.

“Wait here” she murmured, rushing to the bathroom for the first aid kit that was quite… advanced ever since she met him. Grabbing the necessities, Y/n quickly moved back to the living room, putting it all on the table with her shaky hands. He looked barely conscious and her heart was pounding like crazy as she took his shirt off to make sure that the visible injuries were the only ones on him.

He kept mumbling something every now and then but she didn't listen, instead she focused on stopping the bleeding from his shoulder and stitching him back up.

Breathing deeply, Y/n tried her best to get her hands more steady as she did her very best to ensure he'd be… better than whatever state she found him in.

Two hours and some tears later, Jackson was settled in her own bed, wearing only briefs and breathing heavily. She wiped her face while glancing at the clock only then realising how late it was. Jackson was completely out of it, and from the look of it, he would be for several more hours because of the medicine she gave him. The medicine he needed to ensure his wound wouldn't get infected.

Y/n was aware of his job, and it was one of the biggest factors of why she decided to never let their relationship move forward. Just sex, they said before. She couldn't afford getting her heart broken.

His lips said one thing, and his actions showed another, she thought. She wrapped her arms around his waist as she hugged his back lightly, her cheek pressing to his hot skin. Only for now, it was safe to do so. He was unconscious, so he wouldn't make a fuss about it. The closeness with lack of any sexual intentions. Intimacy. Comfort.

As expected, Jackson slept for a long time before eventually waking up, a little past 7 PM the next day.

She managed to clean up her bathroom and couch from his blood, getting her apartment to become squeaky clean because of the anxiety she was feeling. Y/n tried to be productive instead of impatiently waiting at him and biting her nails.

“Y/n” He said in a hoarse, husky voice before grimacing slightly because of the dryness and pain in his throat. Hearing him, she jumped a little, clearly startled as her book fell on the floor with a thud.

“Oh shit, you scared me.” Y/n said, with a hand on her chest as she eyed him quickly before getting up to get a glass of water for him, hearing the state of his throat. “How are you feeling?” She asked quietly after handing him the glass. Her brows slightly furrowed at his unusually pale skin.

“As wonderful as I look” He replied with a scoff after drinking the water and setting the glass aside with a groan.

“You were really hurt this time.” She started quietly, fidgeting with her fingers for a moment as she kept looking at him. “You’ve been asleep for over twenty four hours, Jackson. You—you need to tell me what happened.” She says eventually, crossing her arms over her chest as her frustration grew. She knew how unhappy he was whenever she'd ask questions, and Y/n liked his presence too much to risk losing him over that. So she wouldn't ask, not usually, but this time was different. It was too big to pretend like it didn't happen.

His pale, blue eyes avoided looking directly into hers as he let out a deep breath. His frame was tense.

“Don't act stupid, you know damn well what I do for a living, sweetheart.” He replied. “It's not always all rainbows and flowers.” The sarcasm smoothly made its way down his tongue, as always, seemed like. Y/n got used to the fact Jackson was fluent in this particular thing.

Hearing his tone her body tensed in a combative manner. Squeezing her first, she pointed at him with the other, shaking hand.

“Don't you fucking dare talk to me this way after I spent my whole night stitching you up, preventing you from bleeding out, and barely closing my eyes to make sure you were bloody alive!” Her voice shook slightly every now and then as she tried to stand her ground against him. “It's YOUR work to do… all that, but is it my work to always stitch you up afterwards? Why the hell do you come here since I don't deserve even a brief explanation?” She demanded to know, looking intently at him as she wrapped her arms around herself for some, much needed at the moment, comfort.

Jackson tilted his head slightly, raising his chin as he finally looked her in the eyes. His facial expression was impossible to read, as always.

But the one thing she was perfect at, was reading his eyes. Ever since day one, Jackson would always try to avoid eye contact in such situations. Even though his stare never failed before, and he was going through life thinking he mastered it.

Well, maybe he did. Y/n was the only one who saw more in his bright, storm and tempest filled eyes. So he'd purposely put a wall between the two of them. She knew him too well to believe in the theatrics he was so prone to use on people.

“Your apartment was the closest place I could think of at the moment. It's not that deep.” His voice was low and emotionless, husky from the lack of usage in the last twenty four hours but he managed to keep up the eye contact for just a few seconds before looking away.

Yet, it hurt her. Sighing deeply, she shook her head and made her way to the kitchen as Jackson slowly got up from her bed.

Looking around for his pants, he ran a hand through his hair with a groan. The one thing he could admit to himself was that seeing disappointment in her eyes wasn't… nice. It didn't feel good.

“So… when can I see you now?” He asked casually, trying to break the tension after a couple minutes, thinking that she just gave up asking him questions like always, after he'd shut her down.

The silence hung in the air for a longer moment, charged with unsaid words and buzzing emotions. Y/n was tired, visibly and mentally.

“Don't come here anymore, Jack. I can't do it.”

A quiet voice came from the kitchen, making his heart stop for a moment and his eyes to widen. Turning around he walked up to her, leaning on the counter.

“Come on, you're not mad at me, are you?” He asked, raising his eyebrows, not understanding the vulnerable expressions on her face, which she never hid. Y/n wasn't scared to be vulnerable with her feelings around him, which was always a source of conflicted emotions within himself.

With a resigned sigh, she put the knife and veggies down, looking up at him.

“No, it's… it's more than that. I just can't do what you're expecting of me.” She started, shaking her head a little. “Just—just fuck you, and then, then take care of you and never care enough to ask. I can't do that. It's—it's not me, I'm sorry.” The way her body language changed, the vulnerability and raw hurt in her voice made the annoyingly painful feeling gnaw at this one spot in his chest. He didn't know what to say for a moment before turning around and walking a couple steps through her living room. Anger and confusion grew in his head, as the only real emotions he knew so well. Hand tugging on his hair as he let out a humourless laugh.

“You don't mean it. We're just—just arguing again.” He said, trying to convince either her or himself, but the feeling of dread already settled between his ribs. His voice came out louder than intended, accusing even.

As the response didn't come, he turned around again facing her. Taking a couple fast steps he winced at the sharp pain in his shoulder.

“What do you want me to say, Y/n? We talked about it before, I— fucking can't tell you anything!” He said with sharp anger bubbling beneath the surface.

“Jackson, I said I get it! I just can't do what you want me to!” She exclaimed, her voice an octave higher than usually at his sudden outburst. She felt panicked with what was happening. With the idea of never seeing him again, and with what she was feeling at the moment. The feelings accompanying her were much more complex than she'd like them to be.

“Then why are you so fucking dramatic about it!” He continued pacing back and forth, not handling the situation very well, or picking up on the irony of his words.

Y/n raised her eyebrows with a scoff.

“Me? I'm just breaking it off, Jackson. You are the one yelling at me and running around my living room.” She pointed out, keeping the pain hidden away. For now.

He stopped in his tracks immediately as she called him out on the frantic behaviour.

“I wouldn't if you weren't like… this!” He spat out, his blue eyes filled with coldness and anger. The sudden motion as he swung his arm, caused the stitches to rip and blood started dripping down his arm. “Fuck!”

Y/n’s eyes widened immediately.

“Jack, calm down! Your arm!” She squealed, making him raise his eyebrows in surprise. Her hand grasped his bigger one as she pulled him to the bathroom, pushing him to sit on the edge of the bathtub. It was a fairly small room, with not much space after he'd fill it out with his wide frame, so without a second thought she slumped on his lap.

He sat here wordlessly, the combative facial expression still decorating his handsome face as she worked on the wound, cleansing it before getting to the stitching.

He didn't make a sound until the last stitch, when he suddenly let out a loud hiss at the particularly painful movement of the needle in his skin.

“Sorry” she said quietly out of habit. “You need to stop thrashing like a wild animal for the next few days.” Y/n added, concerned with his state.

Jackson scoffed, tensing as he looked in her eyes accusingly.

“Don't tell me what to do. You dumped me.” His voice was low and grumbly, still carrying some anger in it, but the way he put it made Y/n let out a giggle uncontrollably. His gaze softened slightly. He sounded like an offended child.

“As far as I know, we weren't together, Jackson.” Her voice was more playful than anything as she finished the stitching, putting the tools aside. Caressing the skin on his arm, Y/n sighed.

Jackson kept looking at her with a lump forming in his throat. After a minute he broke the silence.

“I don't know what you want me to say, but you won’t hear…” He started before clearing his throat, unsure of what words to use. Of how to explain.”—hear THAT from me, Y/n. I just can't.” He said quietly, his hands holding her hips, thumbs rubbing little circles on her soft skin. The silence settled in the air again, as she felt he wasn't finished just yet. Just needed some more time to recollect his words. “...but I don't want to not see you anymore.” He sounded weaker than ever, more… vulnerable. The trait she wanted to see in him so badly, making her heart soften in an instant.

Feeling the surge of hope rushing through her veins, she raised her hands to his face, tilting his head up so her eyes would meet his. Her eyes were– bright again, Jackson noticed subconsciously.

“You don't want to lose me.” She stated with confidence, knowing what he meant. Jackson neither denied nor confirmed, sighing deeply as he squeezed his eyes shut. “Say it.” She demanded, caressing his skin and as soon as he looked again, searching his blue eyes for anything that would show her she was wrong. She didn't find anything.

He took a deep breath, his fingers digging into her skin harder.

“I don't want to lose you.” He repeated, sounding like the words almost drowned him, but he knew it was a turning point. Jack knew she was – patient and understanding. It would be enough. They stared at each other for a longer moment before she touched his cheek with a little chuckle.

Seeing her eyes so shiny and cheeks blushed, Jackson regretted he didn't say it sooner. It took a lot, but it was worth it. Leaning forward, he pressed his forehead against hers.

“What's so funny?” He scoffed playfully, looking at her lips with a deep breath.

Y/n leaned in, kissing him in a way that took his breath away for a mere moment making him forget who they were. Who he was. A way that she wouldn't dare to kiss him before.

“Stubborn man” she let out with a sigh after pulling away.

Only then did she get up, pulling him back to the bedroom deciding that she'd force him to rest if he wouldn't agree right away.

***

Slowly opening her eyes, Y/n wiped her face with a yawn before she noticed he was awake. The admirably blue eyes looked at her halfway open with a smirk, and for a second she got mad at him for never staying the whole night before. The view was wonderful.

“Hi” She said with a chuckle, making him raise his eyebrow in amusement.

“Hi,” He replied, pulling her closer. Her dishevelled state made her even more attractive than usual, in a completely different way. It was a way that Jackson never looked at other women before which was a little scary, but well. He was way too sleepy to think about it now. With his own eyes barely open and vulnerable as never before, he let out a chuckle. It felt so easy at the moment, like he wasn't a killer without any actual identity. Like he had a chance for a life with the beautiful woman by his side.

Stretching with a groan he shifted to the side, being fairly careful with his injured shoulder. Jackson's hand landed on Y/n’s bare hip as her shirt shifted up, revealing her pale skin. She opened her eyes again, glancing at him as she heard the throaty purr coming from his mouth.

“Jackson” She warned with a giggle, knowing his intentions too well. “You're–” She started, but before she'd manage to finish, he flipped her on her back, hanging over her like a thundercloud. “–injured.” Her voice was defeated with an undertone of humour at his mischievous doings.

“Still healthy enough.” He replied, leaning down and grazing his nose over her neck. After two years of seeing only her, he wasn't able to prevent associating her scent with something– familiar.

Home

Pressed so tightly against her, Jackson felt the familiar stirring in his lower stomach, making him sigh deeply. His warm breath wrapped itself around her skin, making her shiver with delight. He leaned down, biting onto her neck lightly as his hands began stripping her of the pajama pants she was wearing.

She let it happen, until she didn't. Her smaller hand getting a hold of his wrist.

“In my way.” She said, turning her head to meet his eyes. “My way or not at all. Your stitches will probably burst again if I agree to do it the usual way.” She said with a voice that allowed no opposition. That was a voice he rarely heard, but the feisty look in her eyes was clear. She wouldn't bend under his will because she cared about his health.

With a loud, dramatic sigh he slumped on the bed, giving up. Seeing it, Y/n chuckled, raising her brows. Pointing at the tent in his underwear, she asked.

“So you need help with that or not?” Her voice was full of amusement and clear lighthearted mockery. Jackson's eyes immediately shifted to her face.

“Don't push it before I change my mind” he grumbled with a hidden smirk, making her laugh out louder as she got up, pulling her underwear down all the way before she straddled his hips.

Her soft hand began travelling down his chest, tracing every inch of his skin, appreciating the masculine firmness to him. The sensation of his muscles against her delicate fingers.

The air in the room immediately shifted, and Jackson's expression changed. His brows slightly furrowed, as he watched her actions. He was clearly confused, never touched with such intention before in his life. His muscles tensed beneath her fingers, almost expecting pain to come any second now.

Violence was all he knew. She understood it, but it nevertheless broke her heart a little bit.

Looking him in the eyes, she leaned forward, her lips following the path her fingers travelled. She left little kisses on each scar and imperfection she encountered.

Jackson wasn't sure what he felt. Whether he liked it or not, he was more confused than ever before. That's why when she reached the V on his lower stomach, still kissing, he rose up slightly.

“Don't” he said quietly. The atmosphere was so intimate and vulnerable, that for once in his life, he didn't feel up to being pleasured in such a way. He already let her do too much, Jackson thought.

Y/n looked up, meeting his bright eyes with her own. The tension and– fear on his face was visible for the first time since she ever met him.

Nodding lightly, she came back up, kissing him passionately as her hands worked on his underwear, pulling it down and stroking his hard length. Deep groans pushed past his lips with each move as his eyes fell shut. He looked more beautiful than ever, Y/n thought seeing him then.

Only the sensation of her warmth engulfing his manhood brought Jackson back, making him open his eyes and letting his jaw fall open.

“Fuck” he gasped, as she leaned back, supporting herself by holding onto his stomach, not forgetting about his injury.

His hands gripped onto her hips. Still sitting up, Jackson tried moving her on top of his hips to get her to move faster, but Y/n wasn't having any of it. Pushing him back, she leaned forward and captured his lips in a searing kiss while she sensually moved. She was in no rush. Y/n enjoyed every sensation the connection between them was giving her. The slow pace was making him more sensitive to their surroundings than the usual frantic rhythm. The sound of her quiet sighs and whimpers filled his ears like the most beautiful melody. The way her face gave away the all-consuming bliss she experienced from how he felt inside her, but also from how… close they were. Jackson felt like he was slipping. The situation was getting out of control as his mind started spiralling into the vulnerability, which he desperately didn't want to happen.

Looking up, he noticed Y/n watching his face intently, her mouth slightly open as she moved to her own rhythm. Her breasts swayed with each movement before she leaned down, kissing all over his neck while her hands travelled around his collarbones, caressing his skin.

Wordlessly Jackson's bigger hand slowly grabbed hers, moving it up towards his throat, wrapping it suggestively with a certain look in his eyes. Y/n knew.

Of course she did.

With a quiet sigh, she shook her head lightly, moving upwards to his cheek, the gentle touch sending shockwaves down his spine as she watched him with care and gentleness he never experienced.

Covering her hand with his own, Jackson sat up lightly, moving her closer. He didn't fight it anymore.

“You're so beautiful” He breathed out, wrapping his arm around her waist and capturing her lips in a deep, sensual dance as she caressed his hair. They both seemed to get lost in the sensations, drowning in each other's presence without any will or need to seek saving.

As Y/n squeezed her eyes, her body tensing on top of his, Jackson knew she was coming. Leaning his forehead on her collarbone, he followed right after. For the first time in his life, he realised that the way she held him felt even better than the most amazing orgasm he ever experienced.

…and just like that, Jackson knew he’d stay the night, and countless more.

Because even if he couldn't name or say it, he knew the reason why he would keep coming back.

***

Taglist: @lau219 @xsweetcatastrophe

Lost On You

Robert Fischer x Reader

PART 1

6.5k words

A/N: sorry it took so long but it's here, life's been busy! The story will be written in a little different style, as I got inspired by old English novels. The point of view will be switching frequently to give a bigger outlook. Let me know what you think!

Money. They say it's something acquired and that it doesn't bring happiness, but ninety eight percent of your living doesn't come from nowhere, right? We don't get to choose workplaces based on wellbeing or fun, at least not everyone has the privilege to do so. Money. Nothing else would keep me here for so long, Y/N thought.

She couldn't help but ponder on her choices, driving in an automatic state of mind, doing it out of habit and barely paying attention. It's a surprise that I never crashed, the woman thought to herself chuckling under her breath.

Glancing at the buildings and, still sitting behind the wheel of her car - a white, six-year-old Honda Civic, as she asks herself every morning: Why do I still work here? Why do I get out of bed every morning, ten minutes before my alarm, when I'm already losing to time every single day, stuck in traffic jams and still being late almost everyday? Why have I been doing this for three years instead of two.. at most?

For money and practice, that's obvious, her own, bitter at times mind replies with slight annoyance.

This is the third year of her toiling at Fischer Morrow and Y/N had no idea how time has flown by so quickly. At the age of twenty-three years old and since she started college, FM has been her first and last place of employment. She got a paid internship in October of her first year, which seemed too good to be true. Yet here she was. Honestly? It wasn't a feat or success at all, and Y/N only understood that with time. Her raging headache was slowly growing with each thought crossing her mind. It was.. a daily thing for her, her mind being on overdrive.

For centuries, there has been a belief at all types of universities that freshmen never get internships, however, this is just not true, not entirely because the truth lies somewhere else. They don't get internships because they DON'T WANT them. Yes, they don't. It's a pain in the ass. First, you have to prove yourself to get one, and then you have to immediately approach everything very seriously and for little to no money.

You have to be responsible: don't waste your weekends partying. Your mind needs to always be focused on studying and working. That's why it's better to start later. There's time for everything in life, and instead of partying, meeting people, and enjoying student life, I got busy working. I take it seriously. SERIOUSLY.

However, not everything is so bad. Over time, such actions bring tangible benefits. I have more experience than other students and I know that I will have no problems finding a job. But I also have a good salary: better than if I interned at any competitor company. FM pays me more than students are usually paid, and the salary increases with the duration of the internship, so after almost three years… I was fine. Just fine.

I'm renting an apartment of my own, I have my own “almost new” car, and well. I never need to borrow any money from anyone. It's a bad habit that I absolutely don't want to ever have.

So what keeps me going here is fucking money, Y/N eventually decides as she gets out of the car, shutting the door close and wrapping the coat around herself a little tighter, since the weather wasn't the dreamiest. It was autumn after all.

Walking through the company parking lot, she made her way towards the main entrance. Her clicking heels were the only sound around besides the raging wind. As she passed through the door, she saw a very familiar woman.

Vicky, was sitting by the receptionist desk writing something down until she heard the door swinging open.

Vicky looked up to see Y/N as she lightly smiled. Her makeup was a little too intense for the workplace, but it had become what she was known for. People liked to talk about Vicky in less flattering ways than necessary, which… maybe was another reason why Y/N grew to like her so much. Going with the flow tended to feel like an itch and, well, who liked that damn nagging sensation? Nobody. Clearly.

“Early as ever” The redhead said with a chuckle, her bold-red lips stretching into a smirk.

Y/N rolled her eyes with a sigh, raising an eyebrow.

“...and good morning to you too. I guess” She replied, smoothing out her hair, which of course didn't want to fully lay down, slightly waving at the ends. Y/N leaned slightly over the desk. “Is the witch here already?” she asked in a quiet tone, looking around to make sure nobody caught her words.

“Which one? There's plenty” Vicky whispered back with a chuckle, seeing the unimpressed look.

Unable to contain her laughter, Y/N covered her mouth to make the snort she let out as inaudible as possible.

“The Italian one” She replied.

The Fischer Morrow company is owned by Italian-American entrepreneur Maurice Fischer. In order to work there, you need to constantly improve your language skills. Knowledge of Italian was one of the criteria to receive the internship. Even though I'm only an intern and my Italian is at a high level, I also have to attend lessons once a week. They are paid for by Fischer himself. This is another bonus of interning or working for this company in my opinion.

Free Italian language lessons. If only the Italian teacher wasn’t so terrible.

“Girl, I'm a receptionist. How am I supposed to know?” Vicky says with a sigh, followed by a shrug. Obviously she was disappointed with how little people in the company communicated with her despite being the first point of contact for anyone who entered Fischer Morrow. She was a little nosey by nature.

Y/N sighed deeply before straightening her back, grabbing her purse, and heading to the elevator with a heart pounding in her chest. She loved the Italian language, but simply despised the current teacher.

She's demanding and bitter, plus treats me like a fucking ten year old. She tends to leave us homework, which I rarely get on time because of the amount of work I have. She's thrilled every single time, needless to say.

“Y/N!” Vicky yelled out, as she rushed towards the closing elevator doors, managing to stop them on time with her arm. “You-know-who is calling us to the conference room. Not only us but most departments.” She said, trying to catch her breath in the meantime.

“What for?” Y/N asked with surprise.

Mr. Fischer was not someone who'd usually make announcements. He was demanding and reasonably kind but his expectations towards his workers were always high. Whether anyone liked it or not, he'd make a drastic change and expect people to get used to it immediately.

“Who knows, but… I'm telling you in case.” She said, giving Y/N THE look.

She immediately understood, nodding gracefully and letting out a deep breath as the door closed.

Walking through the corridor, Y/N noticed several workers heading IMMEDIATELY to the conference room.

That's sooner than expected, she thought with a sarcastic chuckle.

Caroline, the head of advertising, walked like she owned the whole building in her obscenely high heels, barely keeping from breaking her ankles as her hips swayed beneath the tight skirt.

Oh my fucking god, please not her. Anyone but her.

“Hey, Y/N” She said in a fake sweet tone that made Y/N contain an eyeroll. “Did you hear that we all have a meeting? I wonder why. Maybe something happened? Maybe I will get a promotion?!” She started babbling without giving her colleague a chance to speak at all. It wasn't anything new about her, that's just the way Caroline was.

“What's that?” Y/N asked, pointing at the hard cover in Caroline's hand, trying to smoothly change the topic.

The taller woman glanced at her own grip, like she didn't know herself before smiling once again.

“Oh, it's a calendar. I thought that I should look, you know, busy and smart since Fischer will be there.” She explained with such pride, causing Y/N to internally cringe.

Oh god, I sighed inwardly. Not that I consider myself an expert on human behaviour, but this is probably way beneath my dignity, or I haven't soaked the corporate dress code in yet.

“He'll probably start whining again and ask obvious questions.” Y/N murmured under her breath, barely listening to Caroline and Marie, another department head, who suddenly appeared by her side.

With a fucking calendar tucked under her armpit.

They immediately started talking about Vicky from the reception, feeling the need to comment on everything about her, apparently.

The boss always asks strangely simple and at the same time uncomfortable questions. He is an old-school man and often does not understand what we do. You need to explain to him the mechanisms of how some of the departments function and, despite appearances, this can be difficult. Caroline can't recall the details in her head, and Marie, in turn, can't explain how it works. That's probably why they work together. They must complement each other. But this is not a reason to discredit the boss. He wouldn't be where he is today if he weren't smart in some way? Right? Or maybe it's just my naivete, because when I look at my colleagues who pretend to be professional, hold old calendars in their hands and call the reception girl a plastic doll while holding high positions, I start to doubt it. I have the impression that the higher the position in this company, the worse the intellect and intelligence.

“But you like her, right Y/N? Can't blame you though, coming in late so often and knowing the receptionist well enough to make sure she doesn't tell on you must come in handy.” Marie said in such a fake kind way that well that annoyed Y/N more than she'd like it to.

It was supposed to sting and it did, but Marie is not my boss and all she can do is talk. I have nothing against her, but her fanatical approach to work can be tiring. Marie doesn't understand that not everyone finds her job the love of his life. By the way, I wonder how her husband feels in this arrangement, knowing that she is cheating on him with her job

Even our boss, whom I hate as much as the Italian teacher, isn't that fanatical. Another witch. My nemesis.

Katherina

She is mean and annoying, but at the same time has a lot of knowledge and experience. Sometimes a nice word will slip from her lips but it barely comes out of her throat, accompanied by THAT grimace and her praise sounds artificial from ANY distance. She doesn't have a sense of humour and is a cunning bitch. Calculating like no other and often ruthless. She always gets what she wants, and is one of the people who have the ability to approach the CEO and talk about budget in such a way ensuring she will always get the largest of all departments. Katherina is a real business bitch.

“Let's just get going” Y/N said, ripping herself out of the thoughts, turning around and slowly walking into the conference room which was by now filled with people.

We took our places by the humongous table in the middle, impatiently waiting on what was to come.

Everyone wonders what this meeting is for and quiet whispers fill the room. However, when Mr. Fischer appears with a serious face, everyone falls silent. We know right away that what he wants to tell us will not be pleasant.

Our boss is an older and slightly mannered man, with a specific sense of humour. Always dressed in a suit and a white shirt, he creates an aura of inaccessibility around him and immediately, at first glance, commands respect.

I don't like talking to him in private, although he once mentioned that he likes me and even loves my work style. To this day, I don't know how he knows what I'm doing, but it’s not important. I guess he wanted to let me know that he still has his finger on the pulse of even the smallest details.

I must admit, it's very encouraging to hear such praise from the CEO himself, but I still don't like talking to him.

The older man sits down in his usual seat and opens his notes. He looks up at all of us and sighs.

“Ladies and gentlemen” He begins almost like he was starting a holy mass in a church, and as if by an innate reflex I want to fold my hands in a prayer, even though I am not a Christian by any means. “...because I wanted to inform you that I will soon be planning to retire…” he finishes the first sentence in a weak tone, and the whole room is filled with a murmur of quiet conversations and surprised voices.

“Yes, yes, I'm so old that it's time to get going..” he adds and laughs briefly, while no one else has the courage to do so. “...and you're probably wondering who will take over the position in our company after me, well... “ He makes an appropriate pause to build tension.

“My older son Robert is coming back to us.” he finishes, and the room begins to boil, but not from words, but from employees squirming in their chairs.

They all look at each other as one and hear single words of surprise. The faces of some of them are not very optimistic, not to mention disgusted, but the boss quickly silences the noise with a loud clearing of his throat.

“...and although I know the circumstances in which he disappeared from the company, the most important thing now is that he returns and will take my position, but only in a few months, when I will re-implement and improve his training" he adds, and my thoughts wander towards my first days at work.

Despite the lack of interest Y/N had in the topic of Mr. Fishers’ son, she got an earful of it on her way back to the office.

Quiet conversations filled the corridor as people whispered about Robert Fischer, who apparently got kicked out a little time before Y/N got the job, so they never met. Not that she regretted such a sequence of events, as he sounded like an immature person lacking professional approach in work, and having more interest in women. Not the best colleague to have around.

Not long after, Maurice Fischer sighed deeply, gesturing to us that we could leave, so without waiting, Y/N made her way out of the crowded room. Ignoring Caroline's voice calling her name, she made her way through the corridor and chose the stairs instead of the elevator this time. It was faster.

Closing the door behind her back, Y/N closed her eyes for a second with a sigh, feeling relieved. Finally peace.

Sitting in her chair, she fixed her hair with a swift movement, putting it in a neat ponytail as her phone rang.

Deep sigh pushed past her lips once again, as she saw Maurice Fischer's name on the screen.

“Yes, Sir?” She responded in a professional tone without missing a beat.

“Y/N can you swing by my office in twenty minutes? I'd like to discuss something.” His voice was tense, and it didn't sound very promising.

God, I hope I didn't fuck something up, she thought.

“Of course. I'll be there, Mr. Fischer.” Her eyes shifted around the desk as she nodded unknowingly, before putting the phone down with a click.

Now, she was stressed, but it didn't mean that she could get away with the work that was waiting.

Without wasting another minute, her fingers started pressing on the keyboard at a quick pace, filling up the documents from her files, making sure no mistakes were made.

Twenty minutes passed sooner than she'd wished for them to, and soon enough Y/N was quickly walking through the corridor, holding tightly onto the file and her phone, typing away email after email before a certain impact caused her to almost drop the phone on the ground.

With a gasp she looked up, seeing a… young man with brown, neat hair and piercing blue irises.

His eyes widened for some reason as he let out a gasp.

“Katherina?” He said in a low, raspy voice which was filled with… something that Y/N couldn't quite put her finger on.

Quickly fixing up her facial expression, she cleared her throat, slightly shaking her head.

“No, no… I'm Y/N. You must have taken me for someone else.” Her voice was confident, not showing the confusion in the tiniest bit. Chin raised proudly, as she didn't shy away from eye contact, bravely grazing into his eyes.

The man blinked a couple times, sizing her up before letting out a breath as he nodded, smoothing out his suit jacket.

“Forgive me, it's… my first day today. I must have been a little confused.” He said slowly, carefully choosing his words as he straightened his back. Buttoning his jacket up one button higher, he stretched out his hand towards Y/N.

“I'm Enzo” His voice was smooth like butter, which already caused Y/N to… dislike the man in front of her.

Nevertheless, it was only proper to shake his hand in such circumstances.

“Y/N” Her voice came off kind but distanced, showing off how disinterested she was in having any longer conversations. “Unfortunately I'm in a rush, so I must go. I hope the rest of your day will pass with… less confusion.”

After the words left her mouth, she passed by him like a wind, leaving behind a trail of perfumes in the air and smirk on his lips. She seemed… challenging.

***

When I reached my floor after meeting the boss and went into my office, the girls almost immediately showed up right after me.

“So what did he want? What did he want?” They asked one after another.

“Nothing, he asked about my Italian classes.” I shrugged and they looked at me like I'm an alien.

“About Italian?” Caroline asked, slightly… deflated and confused.

“No way,” Marie murmured with annoyance.

Of course they immediately sniff out gossip.

“Yep, he asked how my teacher is and that's it.” My voice slightly bored as I looked at them, silently wanting them both to leave.

They fell silent and glanced at me and then at each other.

“Weird” said Caroline, and began to think hard about something. Still in my office, if I may add.

“Weird,” Marie repeated after her.

“So, what do you think about this Robert guy coming back?” I'm asked, because Marie and Caroline have been working here longer and probably knew him.

“Oh come on, did you see how all the girls started drooling?” Caroline asked with a smirk followed by a chuckle.

“Well, I saw what a stir it caused.” replied, sorting out the paper sheets on my desk before looking up. “That's why I'm asking.”

“He’s a womaniser, a rake, and quite the seducer,” Marie said confidently.

“Not you saying that! I thought you two were friends!” Caroline imitated her and nudged Marie in the arm with a loud giggle, covering her mouth like a schoolgirl.

“Oh come on, we had lunch together in the community kitchen because he happened to come by, and now you're saying we were friends.” Marie said indignantly with her brows furrowed in annoyance.

“Admit it, he was hitting on you” Caroline laughed at her.

"You're stupid," Marie continued grumbling and stuck out her tongue, laughing teasingly, "Admit it, you were the one who had your eye on him."

“Stupid, I've already been with Tyler, come on, stop talking nonsense, I don't want such insinuations” Caroline said, becoming more serious as her eyes widened, shifting between me and Marie.

“Okay” I said to end the argument. “I still don't understand the Robert phenomenon, can you explain it to me?”

“The Robert Fischer phenomenon cannot be explained, you have to see it yourself” Caroline stated and waved her hand at me with a smirk. “It was enough for the boss to say his name and you saw what was happening in the room?” She pushed further, proving her point.

I just nodded my head in the affirmative and Marie quickly filled in the rest.

“All the girls get wet when they see him, at least the ones who remember him.” Marie said quieter, leaning towards me with her eyes widening.

“Well, he's that handsome? Charming?” I ask further, getting slightly frustrated with not understanding the big deal. There were plenty of handsome men working in Fischer Morrow.

They nodded affirmatively, shrugging lightly. “The CEO mentioned that he's his older son, which means he has a younger one too, right?” I asked.

“Oh, yes” Caroline sighed and waved her hand dismissively “Enzo is even more of a freeloader than Robert. He studied at the Academy of Fine Arts.” She responded, and… that was all I needed to know.

“Oh no” I dramatically stuck my hand out with a chuckle.

“I guess I don't have to tell you what kind of guy it is” Caroline winked before starting to laugh.

“No, no, thanks,” I shook my head disapprovingly.

My brother also studied at the Academy of Fine Arts and although I love him more than anything in my life, I know exactly what kind of person he is. He lives for alcohol, parties and has no principles. He gets up when he's had enough sleep, talks to people when he thinks he needs it and doesn't care who he sleeps with. Only art resides in his heart and next to it there is no room for any woman or man - if he were gay, which he isn't - but there is plenty of that room in his bed. Every night. For any pretty girl he sets his mind to. A typical visual person. He likes big tits, blonde hair and a bit of weirdness. The last girl he spent the night with in my apartment had half of her body tattooed. He is fascinated by tattoos.

In one word: Artist.

Caroline and Marie laughed loudly, leaving my office, and I sat down at my desk, the topic of Robert Fischer and his little brother no longer interested me.

I turned on my computer and started replying to a dozen or so emails and that's how I spent the rest of my shift.

***

Coming in another day wasn't easier at all, the weather getting WORSE, causing Y/N to give up on wearing heels that day, as she preferred to keep her legs intact rather than get hurt.

Walking into the building, like always, she looked around for Vicky who was sitting by the desk.

“Y/N!” She hissed suddenly.

"What?" I asked surprised, coming up closer to the desk as I set my purse down, looking for a hand balm.

“Witch” Vickie replied and grimaced as she did so, letting Y/N know that the teacher was already impatient and annoyed because of her being late and that Vicky had no idea what the other woman was doing here.

When sudden realisation hit, she barely restrained herself from hitting herself in the forehead.

“God! Wednesday!” A panicked whisper pushed past her lips. “I have Monday's Italian lesson due today. I completely forgot. Please, occupy her for a second.” She whispered pleadingly and still almost silently, knowing that the door to the room where the teacher was was open and that she could probably hear the conversation if she tried hard enough.

“Okay” after a minute of silence Vicky gave her a nod “...but hurry up. I don't want her to turn me into a frog.” She snorted a short laugh and covered her mouth with her hand.

“I'll just take my jacket off, and open my office. Then I'm ready.” Y/N replied again quietly and ran towards the right office wing.

She quickly stripped off her coat and grabbed the notebook and pen, hurrying back to the reception desk. Just before the door to the hall, she smoothed down her black dress, hair and entered quietly.

“Buongiorno” She greeted, but to her surprise, there was no one inside. Looking around and coming in deeper only did I notice them.

At a small conference table she was sitting accompanied by the guy I bumped into outside a few days ago. The handsome, very much my type, weird Enzo.

Taking advantage of the fact she was still not visible to them, Y/N smiled lightly to herself, a shiver running down her spine.

I wonder what he's doing here? She thought.

Both of them, busy talking, barely noticed Y/N’s entrance, especially… older teacher. If she could, she would melt under the pressure of his gaze, like ice cream in the sun.

It wasn't surprising seeing the effect he had on most women, but the situation was embarrassing to say the least, because she was about twenty years older than him.

They only stopped their oh-so-nice chat when Y/N cleared her throat and sat down at the table.

They both looked at her, the woman with distaste, and Fischer in a way that made Y/N feel like she was completely naked.

“God, Mother Nature or other creator of all existence, what a look!” She thought to herself before wondering more and more intensely what the boss’ younger son was doing here.

“Buongiorno,” the teacher greeted finally, while Enzo only started looking at the younger woman even more insistently. Sigh.

I glanced at him. He was dressed in a navy suit, white shirt, sitting squarely across from me, with his legs crossed, his ankle resting on his knee. He was looking straight at me the whole time. A shiver ran down my spine again and I couldn't stop or resist it in any way. His gaze so insistent, but also… intriguing. He was clearly the type who knows exactly how to look at a woman to intimidate her. My gaze shifted at my notes, as I started trying not to glance at him again.

I felt a little embarrassed and completely intimidated. I immediately remember the warmth of his hand and his smooth voice as I saw him the last time I saw him. It was a nice thought.

No matter how hard I tried, I could still feel his eyes on me. I knew he was staring at me, but I almost never let myself get provoked so I tried not to glance or show him that his gaze had any effect on me.

Turned out that the teacher noticed it as well and was.. probably jealous of his attention? This whole situation was so odd, that I had no idea what to do.

The older woman straightened her back, clearing her throat like I did a couple moments ago and ostentatiously shoved the attendance list under his nose so that he wouldn't stare at me anymore.

"Please sign," she said to him sweetly.

Interesting. Are they on first name terms? Yeah, right. Who wouldn't want to be on first name terms with a guy like that?

I glanced at him again, starting to secretly observe what he was doing, and without taking his eyes off me, he picked up a pen and casually signed the list, followed by pushing it away from him as if it were something unnecessary.

I looked away again, pretending to look for something in my notebook, and he rested his elbows on the conference table and leaned toward me.

“Buongiorno, Y/N. I didn't know I'd have the honor of taking classes with you.” He spoke in pure Italian with an accent that his teacher probably envied.

I stared at him in surprise for a moment.

But how? Is he going to attend classes with me? Will the CEO's younger son also work in the company? The CEO didn't mention anything!

“Oh, so you know each other?” The teacher asked pleasantly, but her artificiality gave her away quickly, trying to mask her displeasure at the fact that he knew me and on top of that, said it was an honor.

“Yes, we met a few days ago.” I answered her briefly, which was enough to cause the displeased grimace on her face, as she failed to cover it with a fake smile.

…Which made her look like a frog that got run over.

“Robert will be attending the classes with you, the CEO asked for it.” Mrs Conner explained, seeing the questioning look in my eyes.

In the meantime Robert pulled out the worksheets and started arranging them into two piles. One for me, one for him.

…and that's when I realised.

Wait, who? What Robert? My mind raced to the moment he walked in on me earlier, and I could swear that he introduced himself as Enzo, right?

I wondered, my eyes narrowed before I swiftly pulled the list of names closer to me a bit too quickly. He introduced himself as Enzo!

That's when I heard his soft snort and for some reason I just knew he was making fun of me.

Under the date of today's class I was listed and of course not any Enzo, but… Robert Fischer.

A womaniser, a pick-up artist, and... as it turns out, also a liar.

The Boss' elder son.

The man who was supposed to become my boss so very soon, already fucking up the first impression.

Why do I immediately judge him very badly and assume that he has a nasty character? Well, after what I heard from Caroline and Marie and after how he charmed me, pretending to be someone else.. I can't lie, it's a HORRIBLE first expression!

Even seeing him makes my assumptions clear, it was visible to the naked eye for what pleasures of life he was brought into this world. With such beauty and manner, you don't sit in an office, you lie in bed with women who push themselves there, one after another.

At that moment I immediately understood the ‘Robert Fischer phenomenon’ my colleagues told me about.

I sighed and signed the list without a word, because I didn't even know what to say to him. Thank you? Besides, I had zero intentions for pleasantries after he decided to lie to me after seeing me for the first time. That's what I hated the most, dishonest people.

It annoyed me that he is a man who is absolutely my type, in terms of looks, I couldn’t deny that, but in terms of character, well, he leaves A LOT to be desired, and that's probably why his behaviour intimidated me so much. I felt like an idiot.

“Have you been learning Italian for a long time?” he asked in Italian with a sly smile. Piercing blue eyes scanning my face, looking for… a reaction perhaps.

I glanced at him and he was still staring at me. He was doing it in a way that he knew was making me feel uncomfortable. He was being pushy and rude. A caveman-like show off in a rather unsophisticated way, that I've caught his eye and that he was interested in me for a reason. It was awful.

“It depends,” I answered, also in Italian, looking down at my notes.

“On what?” He pressed further, making me want to roll my eyes so hard they'd just roll out of my damn skull.

“How long is ‘long’ for you?” I answered the question with a question and glanced at the teacher.

Still arranging worksheets.

"How long have you been studying?" His voice became more.. annoyed which gave me some unknown satisfaction. Smiling sweetly, I looked into his eyes with my chin turned up.

“Ten years” I’ve said with honesty in my tone, remembering how, when I was a little girl, I forced my parents to teach me my first lesson.

Italian was not a popular language in the States.

“Ten years?” Robert repeats with a surprise.

I didn't answer, not understanding what was so strange about it, and I had zero will to dwell on why HE was surprised. “After so many years you should already speak with an accent and be above C1.” He added arrogantly, leaning back in his chair which made me scoff.

“And you? How much do you study?” I asked in response without soaring him a single glance.

“Me?” He asked, raising his eyebrows in surprise. Well, technically it was obvious for most of the people here, but why would I give him the satisfaction?

From birth, I assumed.

“So what? Only C1? After forty years?” I mocked with a snort, causing the teacher to open her wrinkly eyes slightly wider at the exchange, as I insinuated that he was not only stupid, but also a forty year old man.

Obviously, he wasn't that age and I was fully aware. If he was thirty, I'd be surprised. I also knew that there are C2 level lessons with a native speaker in the company, but it still made me scoff.

A couple seconds of silence got interrupted as he snorted derisively. I glanced at Robert, catching him staring at me with a stupid smile on his pink lips. He was clearly showing me that he, in fact, did enjoy the little stand off we just had. He was impressed.

God, what have I done?

I quickly became annoyed at myself for losing my cool so fast, and at him for even making me lose it at all. I should have bit my tongue earlier or told him off, but I didn't know how. What would I tell him? To stop staring at me, or to stop picking on me? He'd probably pretend I was imagining things. Because that's how it goes. He only asked about the lessons, but he kept staring at me, and I couldn’t make him understand not to. Besides, I quickly grew worried about what the teacher thought. The last thing I needed was for any gossip to spread around the company, and I knew that the teacher is close friends with the girls from the Accounting Department. She also has lessons with them and they're on first-name terms, because they're about the same age and apparently she studied Italian Philology with one of them. I already could hear them talking shit.

The rest of the lesson passed on me trying to JUST survive. I didn't enjoy it much, as they took their sweet time bragging about their posh lives and places they've been to. Of course in a fluent Italian. I wasn't sure whether he was trying to impress her or anything, but this behaviour made me cringe internally. I couldn't help but count down every minute until the very end.

When the clock finally hit ten, I got up and packed my stuff immediately, rushing to leave the classroom before my head would explode. Passing through the doorway I said goodbye to Robert and the Witch with a short "addio". Right outside the door I quickened my pace as I could hear Robert leaving right behind me. I sneaked away, quickly entering the girls' restroom.

I got to the sink and turned on the water to wash my hands, at the same moment as my eyes caught in a mirror image of Robert walking into the bathroom behind me.

For a second I froze, rooted to the spot. Has he gone mad?

I stared at him for a moment and wondered how I should address him. He was not much older than me. Maybe five years at most, but he was my soon-to-be-boss. He lied about his name and FOLLOWED ME INTO THE TOILET!

“Mr. Fischer, you should leave. It's inappropriate.” I addressed him formally, wanting to emphasise the distance between us.

Even though it was my right to demand it from him, I still felt nervous. Maybe scared even.

A guy followed me into the ladies' room and I know he didn't come here by accident. If he had, he would have come out, apologising, but he was still standing there and looking at me like I'm... In the wrong place.

No, more like prey.

“Why?” He asked stupidly, furrowing his eyebrows in a fake incomprehension as he smiled mockingly.

.. leaning on his shoulder against the wall with arms crossed on his torso.

“Because it's a women's restroom?” I replied in a sharp tone and a fair bit of sarcasm, mirroring his stupid expression.

"So what?" he asked arrogantly, shrugging.

His response took me aback and surprised by his directness. Other women said he was unpredictable, but this bordered on harassment, yet I pushed this thought away. He's just a womaniser and a flirt. I guess he stopped developing in high school.

Eyeing him for a second I straighten my back, keeping my composure.

“Actually, nothing, you can stay here, after all, even the women's toilet is yours in this company, I forgot, but I'm leaving.” I said in a professional tone and without even wiping my hands, headed towards the door as if I had been scalded.

Suddenly he stopped me by pressing his back against the door, cutting off my escape route. I'm trapped, my thoughts racing. I bet someone's going to try to get in here in a minute and find me in the WOMEN'S ROOM WITH THE CEO’S SON! The one whose reputation isn't exactly spotless.

As I look up, his eyes shift around my face and I can see something new in his expression. A glimpse of awkwardness or maybe even… shame?

“I didn't want you to take it that way.” Robert said quickly, raising his hands in surrender as he saw the fear in my eyes. “I wanted to apologise for lying about my name.” He said, as if with regret, and if we weren't in the ladies' room, I might have believed him.

“I’m not angry, but please let me out immediately!” I raised my voice at him, and he looked me in the eyes for a couple seconds, before moving to the side and moving away from the door. He left me enough space to pass through, which I did, as my shoulder brushed against his chest in the meantime.

“It was good to see you, Miss Y/L/N” he added as I passed by before the door shut, still very confident and smiling like the devil.

I left the bathroom as if I was being chased and almost ran to my office. Entering the room, I shut the door closed and let out a deep breath.

I was absolutely outraged and shocked!

What a jerk! How dare he!

Taglist:

@lau219 @4ria790 @sasha28x @xsweetcatastrophe @betty21rose @aashika1908

Coming soon...

Where's the thin line between a breathtaking desire and love? Don't keep me in the dark, show me the rules so I don't get lost...

His cold blue eyes glare at her face. She's covered in tears, unable to hold the burning pain in her heart anymore. It shot out like rushing water through an old dam. Y/N's words made his head buzz with pain. He felt paralyzed. The room felt smaller than ever before, almost like it started closing up on them both. The expectant gaze she was shooting him was... Too much. Gaping sadness with a tiny flame of undying hope. His blood ran cold.

"You can find it here" Robert started in a low, shaky voice, pointing at the bed in the middle of his room, breaking her heart with each word. "Or there" He pointed towards the bathroom, where they were intimate just minutes ago. His jaw clenched as her eyes begged him to not say it. Taking a deep breath, he let it go. "But you won't find it here." His shaky hand pointed towards his heart. "You're wasting your time, Y/N."

...and it felt like the sky started falling

Office romance is never a good idea

Massive thank you to @lau219 for being very supportive and making these wonderful moodboards for me!

...Is anyone interested in reading such a thing? 😉

Not Now, Not Ever

Part 1

Sorry it took so long. I was busy.

The view was almost pleasant. Where ‘almost’ was the key word in the eyes of a person who spent most of their life seeing it: a tall building in the city center, surrounded by even taller expectations of people who somehow got there. In recent years, more and more people were finding a way to earn time. Whether it was by honestly earning it, luck or tearing it out of some poor bastard who entered the city in search of cheap pleasure and a good time, unfortunately encountering such a frequent guest. Death.

Because that's what Dayton was known for: cheap pleasure and death.

No matter how much time passed, the luridness of Dayton lingered in Y/N’s deepest thoughts and memories. Thus the view here wasn't too bad. Dark eyes closely watched people who'd pass by the building, as her hand twirled her pen.

What a silly habit it was.

It helped her focus, at the same time ensuring that her eyes would not wander to the man sitting on the other side of the large office. Sighing deeply, Y/N leaned forward as her elbows made contact with the desk before reaching for the keyboard. The combination of symbols and numbers created password she knew by heart, typing it in within a single glance.

Hundreds of files, cases hidden under certain codes, were only known to the timekeepers who belonged to the group called A6. A6 consisted of three members. One of them was stationed ten floors higher, with gold letters on his office door, wrinkles on his face and the whole system in his hands. The second member was sitting directly in front of Y/N, separated by ten feet of distance and his stone cold expression. Raymond Leon. Even though Greenwich was bursting at the seams with people who looked permanently young, he was one of the few people she ever encountered who… never changed, not even slightly.

He had a blank expression adorning his face accompanied by scars crossing his pale skin. Weirdly bright, blue eyes dispassionately observed the environment he'd find himself in, no matter where and when. His hair slicked back perfectly, which sometimes drove her mad when she'd wake up in a worse mood.

How could he possibly do it? Not a single strand of stray black hair on his forehead throughout all the years they worked together. Scoffing quietly she rolled her eyes, realizing that her thoughts wandered once again.

It wasn't the best day. She usually had focus, but the switch she learned to make going through the entrance of the building seemed to not work very well today. Her mind was consumed with the wistfulness of the free will she used to have in the past.

Before it all started. Before she became something more than Y/N Y/L/N. Before becoming a Timekeeper.

Several decades ago when she had more in her than this fucking badge in the pocket of her leather coat.

As she suddenly got up, the armchair rolled with a screeching sound. Raymond's attention shifted to Y/N as he raised his eyebrows, looking over his screen at her feminine silhouette.

He didn't say a word, even though he wanted to ask.

She didn't say a word, even though she saw him looking.

Passing by his desk, she grabbed a lighter wordlessly as she moved towards the window, opening it wide on the arms length. The disparate feelings of fresh air and the burning nicotine filling up her lungs was all she needed at the moment.

Feeling the not quite unpleasant scent of tobacco in the air, Raymond was just about to get up to join his colleague in the window when suddenly the door swung open.

“Leon, Y/L/N” A forty year old looking woman stood in the doorway clutching onto a file with a fierce expression on her face. This felt like a breath of fresh air after spending several hours with Raymond’s impassiveness, Y/N thought. “Jameson was found dead thirty miles out of Dayton. We're dropping the case.” She said in a tired voice. Not waiting for an answer, the woman took a step back before disappearing behind the black door.

Y/N scoffed with annoyance. It was the cherry on top of her already bad mood.

“Sure, I only worked on it for two weeks. No biggie.” Her voice was stuffed with sarcasm. Her barely contained frustration filled the now silent room, getting a chuckle out of Raymond.

“In a great mood, aren't we?” He replied with a blank expression, playful mockery in his tone that he used so often, almost like a tool towards Y/N.

Getting up he closed the file, before approaching the window that she stood by. He pulled a pack of menthol cigarettes out of his coat and snatched the lighter out of her hand.

Y/N didn't reply, glancing sideways at him while taking a drag.

“Kinda funny for someone who can't even smoke like a man.” She replied smoothly, without missing a beat causing him to slightly lift one corner of his lips.

“You're enough of a man for both of us.” came out of his mouth along with a trail of smoke. Y/N realized it was only the second sentence he said to her that day, and yet, she had enough of his talking.

Putting her cigarette out, Y/N passed by him, getting back to work and leaving him standing there. Finally, she managed to get to work.

The weather was windy, the sensation of fresh air glazing his skin felt good accompanied by the scent of her perfumes and smoke. Strangely calming, even though he couldn't put his finger on what she smelled like. It's not like it matters, anyway, he thought watching over the busy city center. People rushing places even as the sun started to set was not a surprise, as Greenwich barely slept bustling with life.

Raymond rarely experienced the time where he could just be. Without pacing and his mind being on constant overdrive.

Just like now, standing by the window and pondering on the scent of his colleague's perfume, a calmness settled somewhere between his ribs. He realized that after so many years spent here in this building, with a steely badge on his chest, and with the sound of Y/N’s nails clacking against the keyboard in the background, he felt at home.

***

The whole day passed uneventfully, spent on typical, boring office work. They’d clash every now and then during the rare cigarette and coffee breaks. It was more to break the tension than out of spite; a practiced routine.

While the ticking of the clock used to be a menacing sound some years ago, now it just meant that the end of her shift was getting closer. Eventually Y/N logged out of the system, leaning back on her chair as she scanned over her few belongings on the desk.

One would think that spending most of her days for several years here, she'd have more knick knacks lingering around, but her desk was neat. Almost like a brand new working space. Y/N believed there was no need for additional chaos in her space.

As she stood up, throwing the coat over her shoulders, Raymond didn't move or look up, focused on his tasks, or at least he made himself look like it.

He almost never finished his work when others did. Some people in the office even wondered whether he’d spend his nights there sometimes. So it wasn't new to see him remaining seated as Y/N zipped up her coat, gathered her belongings, and shoved them in her purse before heading out. No words were said as the door shut behind her.

Only when complete silence filled the room did Raymond allow himself to relax a little. He slumped into the armchair as he tilted his head back, closed his eyes and breathed deeply.

Subconsciously, he regretted how the sweet scent of her perfume faded away when in her absence.

***

Y/N couldn't help but feel bitterness. She remembered the time when she felt relief arriving home. That feeling was long gone once the hope of turning the apartment into an actual home faded. It was hard to make peace with, but there was nothing she couldn't handle.

Not anymore.

Y/N took a long shower and changed into more comfortable clothes. Subconsciously she skipped the kitchen, as she didn't feel like eating anything.

Wine was another story though, Y/N thought, chuckling when she grabbed her favourite kind. Not bothering to get a glass, she headed to the living room and settled onto her couch. She took her sweet time drinking, smoking, and letting herself dive into her chaotic and melancholic thoughts. Driven by the sour feeling on the tip of her tongue, Y/N pulled out her phone and scrolled to the unanswered message that had been sitting there for longer than it should have. She finally typed her reply.

“Okay, one date. Tomorrow 8 PM” she sent, tossing her phone aside before she'd change her mind.

A deep sigh left her lips, followed by a chuckle. What a mess.

***

“Fuck!” Raymond exclaimed, followed by a hiss when the heavy door made contact with his back, tearing him out of his thoughts and forcing him to stop reading the file he was holding. Turning around he noticed Y/N entering the office.

She couldn't help but let out a giggle at his angered expression before shrugging and raising her eyebrows.

“Not sure if anyone ever told you that, but Ray,” she started with a cheeky smirk, slowly becoming more serious as she took a step forward, her hand landing on his shoulder, pretending like she was massaging it. “it's not the best idea to casually stand by the door. You might get hit.” Y/N finished with a mockingly serious tone, causing him to roll his eyes and shaking her hand off his body.

“You’re in a strangely good mood. Found a penny on your way here?” He shot back, matching her tone, narrowing his eyes as she chuckled instead of rolling her eyes as she always does.

“Nope, just can't wait to finish my shift today.” She answered honestly, walking over to her desk and dumping her purse on it.

Seeing her in such an unusual state, Raymond felt a weird warmth which bothered him, like every unwanted feeling did.

“Don't worry, I'm sure your empty apartment and book won't mind if you come back late.” He said, more bitter than usual, seeing the lack of reaction.

“Actually I have plans. I don't know if you ever heard of such a thing.” She replied smoothly, slicking her hair back into a neat ponytail and keeping up the eye contact. Raymond laughed out loud, making her look at him weird.

“Yeah, sure, and I'm actually going bowling later.” He mocked arrogantly, shaking his head lightly and running his hand through his perfectly slicked back hair. Y/N felt the dig somewhere deep inside, but refused to let him see it.

“To each their own, but with your size it might be an issue to hold the bowling ball properly.” Y/N replied calmly, sitting down.

Her words hung in the air as Raymond chose to ignore her.

The entirety of her ten hour shift passed quickly, and before Ray even realized, she was gone. Once again, she left a trail of her intoxicating perfume and her perfectly neat desk.

His own desk, on the other hand, was covered in all kinds of papers, reminding him of the amount of work he willingly put upon himself.

Time always passed smoothly when he'd throw himself into the whirlwind of work. He reread some cases over and over until his sharp eyes picked up on details that an average Timekeeper wouldn't notice. That's why he was the best at what he did.

Sometimes a small crisis got a hold of him, filling his head up with unwanted thoughts about the lack of actual sense in his almost eighty year old life. Raymond would never allow himself to indulge into spiraling down memory lane, as the cloudy moments from his past would try to make their way into the view. Ten minutes turned into an hour, and an hour turned into three when finally he stopped his work. He felt the burning need for some nicotine.

Raymond rolled up his shirt sleeves, took one cigarette out of the box, and settled in his usual spot at the nearby window.

He watched the almost empty street in silence. His arm hung in the air with intentions of taking another drag when he suddenly heard a familiar giggle.

Narrowing his eyes, Raymond focused on the couple slowly walking down the street.

He saw a taller man with a sheepish smile in the company of a beautiful woman, wearing a tight but sophisticated black dress and heels with a denim jacket draped over her shoulders. An obviously oversized jacket. They talked while laughing every now and then. A smile was constantly plastered on her dark red lips.

If asked, Raymond wouldn't be able to answer why his jaw tensed so badly at the sight. He couldn’t explain how the burning in his body overpowered the burning on his fingers as the cigarette burned to the filter. Scoffing with pure anger, he threw the cigarette away before pulling down the blinds as he slumped into his chair.

His heart pounded in his chest and his breathing deepened. Raymond knew he wasn't wrong.

He ran a hand through his hair in a messy manner, ruining his perfect hairstyle.

He couldn't tell what infuriated him more; the way he reacted to the sight of Y/N accompanied by another man, or the way he subconsciously responded seeing her in such circumstances.

Taglist!

@kittenonpluto @candlelover @4ria790 @xsweetcatastrophe @cillianinlove @lau219 @theangelofbastogne @sasha28x @the-buddy-things

I can't tag some people, I don't know why. Sorry. Let me know if you want to be tagged in the next part! Bye!

(my first) and really filthy Raymond Leon fic dropping today! Let me know if you want to get tagged 🫶🏼