Disrupting Tommy's Work Day

A/N: A quick, smutty blurb inspired by this GIF by the very talented @alicent-targaryen. 🔞

"Mr. Shelby? Mr. Shelby?" the voice on the end of the line echoed. "Are you listening?"

Tommy cleared his throat as he stared down at his shoes. "I am, please continue."

"As I was saying..." the voice droned on unimpressively as you reached up from your place below Tommy's desk. He looked heavenly like this from your kneeling position, the chain of his pocket watch catching the light and reflecting back down to you in little winks. "Do it, do it," it beckoned like a siren song as he swayed on the balls of his feet. Unable to control yourself any longer, you began stroking over the soft fabric of his bespoke trousers, your mouth dropping open in appreciation of the way he was hardening under your touch. You watched the delicate material tent nicely, hoping he would soon find it unbearable to stay clothed. You bit your lip as you looked up at your lover, a hint of mischief in your eye as your nimble fingers reached for the fastening of his belt.

Tommy's icy blue eyes gave you a warning glare, his stern gaze full of fury. However, you had no intention of playing fairly today. He'd kept you waiting too long with promises to set the affairs of Parliament aside. You could have cared less if Churchill himself were on the line, you wanted Tommy and you would have him. Within moments you'd freed him from his confines and you were holding his cock like a prize, his thick length pulsing in your hand as you salivated at the sight of it.

Your tongue had barely swiped the first drops of precum from his angry red tip before you felt his strong hand lacing into your hair and pulling you back harshly. Your opposite hand flew to his, full lips in a pout as you batted your lashes at him. How dare he deprive you one more moment, you thought?

Then with a devilish smirk, Tommy gave in, nudging you backward and trapping you between his thigh and the desk. He plunged his full length down your throat in one harsh push, hips pressed forward and hand resting firmly on your shoulder as you whimpered. You struggled for breath at the base of his cock, nose pressed against the soft curls of his pubic hair, feeling the wetness gather between your thighs as you were rewarded with what you desired most. He held you there until your lungs burned, desperately tapping his thigh. A chuckle rose from his throat as he released you, commenting to the man on the other end, "I am in good spirits today. Thank you for asking."

As you heaved for breath, Tommy grabbed your chin harshly, wiping a string of saliva across your cheek and smearing your lipstick while you smirked back at him, understanding his game. He wanted this, wanted you to continue your perverted pleasure. He leaned down, tearing your dress from your shoulders to expose your breasts and you continued on licking and sucking at him greedily as he grasped the edge of the desk for support.

When his own breathing became labored he ended his call, slamming the receiver into its cradle as he grabbed for your elbow to pull you up. "What the fuck was that, ey?" he asked. Pinching your nipple so hard you gasped into his mouth, "I couldn't wait any longer."

"That was naughty," he scolded. "Do you know who I was talking to?"

"No and I don't fucking care," you spat at him in a bratty tone.

Tommy's eyes flashed with anger and desire melded into one dangerous impulse. "We'll see about that after I've punished you," he hissed into your ear as he turned you to face the desk. You shuddered as you felt him jerk your skirt up over your bare ass, listening to him pump his shaft behind you. When he was this worked up, only one thing could satiate him. You smirked as he pressed your cheek to the cool, wooden desk, pleased you were finally getting the attention you deserved.

Family breakfasts with Tommy have become somewhat of a routine.

He comes over on the days Maria leaves for her work early (which is more often than not), eats her granola and drinks Joel's coffee, and they talk about whatever they feel like, though Ellie loves asking him about his recent patrols. She kicks her feet up into Joel's lap and draws it out as long as she can before sprinting all the way to school, but it's worth it if it means just one more story.

Today, though, she's late. Really fucking late. It's not her fault she got a bit distracted by the new book Tommy had brought her last afternoon (it's about SPACE Joel, that trumps school and sleep by a mile), but now she had about five minutes to get out of the house and into the classroom. Ellie barrels down the stairs, bag slung over her shoulder, and has to catch herself on the banister to not slip on the floor once she jumps over the last few steps

"Careful, baby," Joel calls over, worriedly watching her put on her shoes while standing on one leg, jumping to keep her balance. Tommy, on the other hand, looks majorly amused, and she can hear him chuckle.

"Yeah, yeah, old man, I can keep my balance just fine."

She ties her laces so she doesn't trip once she starts running and is about to leave when Joel whistles to call her back.

"Breakfast, Ellie."

Fucking Joel and his stupid rules, but Ellie spins on the spot and uses the kitchen door frame to propel herself toward the counter and pick up two apples for later, stuffing them into her bag with a happy? thrown over her shoulder.

"Mh, have a nice day at school, kiddo," he tries to sound all parental, but she can hear the softness bleeding through and just knows he's holding back a grin. Ellie crosses the distance between them with two big steps and slings her arms around his neck, allowing herself the luxury of melting against him for a few precious seconds when he gently rubs his thumbs over her wrists and lifts her clasped hands to press a kiss to her knuckles.

With a heavy sigh and a silent fuck you to whoever invented math, she pulls back, but not without pressing a kiss to Joel's cheek, basking in the smile he gives her; it's so easy to make him happy, and she does it as much as she can.

Ellie can feel Tommy's eyes on them, he always watches them with a gleeful mixture of amusement and affection, and over the last year, he has settled into the warm parts of her heart, too. He is right between her and the door, sipping on his coffee, so, really, it's not even a conscious choice, more of a reflex.

Her hand comes down on the table when she steps toward the front door and away from Joel, balancing herself so she can lean around the back of his chair and press a quick kiss to his cheek, too. Ellie bites back the small laugh bubbling up when she sees the expression on his face, mouth slightly open, eyes seeking help from Joel, who simply shrugs and picks up his cup again.

Another minute ticks by on the kitchen clock, and she is finally on her way out, the goodbye she yells at them cut off when the front door slams close behind her.

-

("What the hell was that?"

"She is laying her claim on you."

"Whatever that means, Joel, she's your kid, not mine."

"Better get ready to give up your personal space and half your closet."

"My clothes, really?"

"You never know what she might do next, prepare for the worst."

"Are you sure she's not yours? 'Cause this sounds oddly familiar."

"Oh, she is, she just found me all on her own."

"Glad she did, haven't seen you smile like that in twenty years."

"Give it a week and I'll tell you the same thing.")

The Same Situation | Tommy Shelby x Reader

Request: yes by @mrsalwayswrite

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x reader

Summary: Tommy's so worried about Freddie Thorne being with his sister, Ada, that he doesn't even realize that he himself is in just about the same situation with Freddie's sister, (Y/N). What happens when Freddie finds out that the same thing is happening on the flip side of it all?

Warnings: language, death threats, weapons

Word Count: 3504

A/N: I strayed a bit from canon on this one to make it make sense, so I hope that that’s fine. I didn’t expect for it to turn out this good, but I have to say that I’m pretty pleased with it. The italicized dialogue comes right from the show. Enjoy:)

Let me know if you’d like to be tagged in future stories similar to this one!

(Y/N) was working on tidying up the displays at her family's bakery when the shop's main door opened. She didn't even need to look up to know who it was; she recognized the sound of his shoes on the hardwood. "Tommy! Where've you been these past few days?" She asked as she looked up. But Tommy Shelby didn't respond. Instead he kept walking.

(Y/N) scoffed as she set down the cake she had so that she could follow the man into the back area of the bakery. "What's going on, Tommy?" she asked him another question, hoping to gain an answer from him this time. But he still said nothing. Instead he dropped his peaked cap onto the counter, the razor blades sewn into it clanging off of the metallic surface, and fished his pack of cigarettes out of the pocket of the jacket he had on. "You know you can't smoke in here," (Y/N) pointed out, her hands falling onto her hips.

That was the sentence that finally made Tommy look at her. He'd frozen with the cigarette between his lips and an ablaze match just about ready to light it. (Y/N) raised her eyebrows at him, as if she was daring him to go ahead and disregard her statement. They held each other's gaze for a few moments before Tommy hissed from the fire licking his fingertips. He quickly shook out the match and tossed it into the sink before he took the cigarette from between his lips and put it back into its packet with a sigh.

"Care to tell me what's gotten into you?" (Y/N) asked him then, her one eyebrow still quirked.

"It's just one problem after a-fucking-nother," he mumbled, his lips pursing together in a brooding scowl.

"Well that answer told me everything," she pointed out, a slight bit of sarcasm laced into her words.

"Ada's pregnant," he forced out then, running a stressed hand over his face after he spoke.

"She is?" she responded, her eyes wide as shock filled her features, "who...who is...?"

"It's Freddie," Tommy hated the fact that those two words tasted like poison as he said them, "it's fucking Freddie," he added then for dramatic measure, the infuriation now fully present in his voice.

"My brother?" (Y/N) was still only asking questions, her shock still too prevalent for her to get past thinking only the basics. "M...my brother got your sister pregnant?" The words sounded so foreign to say.

"Yes, yes he fucking did," he was still fuming. "And now I'm going to fucking kill him," he added before he grabbed his cap and began walking towards (Y/N), who was standing in the archway that led to the exit.

"Woah, woah...you're going to do what?" (Y/N)'s voice was assertive, but it wasn't enough to get Tommy to stop. What was though, was her placing her hand on his chest and putting pressure against him as he walked up to her. "You're not going anywhere in this state of mind, Thomas Shelby," she told him, her eyes locked onto his, her gaze steely and serious, "and you'd be foolish to think that I'd let you go and kill my brother just because you're unhappy with what he's done. Freddie's not the best of men, but he's..."

"Tell me what he is, (Y/N), because right now I can only see a man who needs to be dealt with," Tommy cut into her statement, tension still evident in his words. He was just a few moments shy from foaming at the mouth here. He needed to get to Freddie and he needed to deal with this now.

(Y/N)'s eyebrows raised as she heard what he had to say, and, once again, surprise was now etched across her face, "It's rich of you to say that about him when you're in the same situation as he is," she said to him.

Now it was Tommy's turn to be confused. "What?" he asked her, his anger fizzling out slightly as he furrowed his brows.

"Are you forgetting about you and I?" she queried, her mouth slightly agape as she waited for his answer. He didn't give one, so she continued, "are you forgetting that we've been seeing each other since you came back from France? Are you forgetting that Freddie knows not one thing about us? You'd be a hypocrite if you were to go and strike him down for being in a situation that is almost exactly identical to the one you're currently in."

(Y/N) held his gaze as she finished her monologue, watching him intently for what he'd give as an answer. He blinked a few times as he thought her words over. His mouth opened and shut then before he let out a sigh and dropped his gaze from hers, clearly defeated now. "It's not that simple when you see it that way, is it?" she remarked, her hand finally dropping from his chest because he'd stopped putting pressure against it.

"I'm still fucking angry at him," he muttered in a disgruntled tone.

"Sure you are...and you have a right to be. That's your sister; you're meant to protect her. But I think I have a little bit of insight into what Ada was thinking, and let me tell you...the move wasn't made only on Freddie's part," she continued to try to reason with him, the slightest smirk forming on her face as she finished her statement. Tommy looked up as she said her final words, and upon seeing the smirk, he shot her the 'don't you even start' look. She held her hands up in surrender as the smile overtook her features. "What are you going to do now?" she asked him after a few moments had passed.

"I'm going to go and find a way to deal with this situation," he responded as he placed his peaked cap atop his head before tugging it down into its proper spot.

"And I trust that that solution will ensure that everyone stays alive?" she checked with him, her eyebrows raising as she spoke.

Tommy pursed his lips at her statement, thinking it over for a moment before he cut the tension by nodding and exhaling a sigh. "It'll take longer for me to figure out, but I'll see it through so that is the case," he told her, his eyes locked onto hers.

"You've given me your word, so now you must stick to it," she reminded him.

"When have I ever broken my word to you?" he questioned her, a grin tugging at the corner of his lips.

"Let's not start with that, Tommy Shelby," she said to him, her smile present as he exhaled a breath of a laugh at her statement.

"I'll see you later," he deflected the previous topic as he leaned in and pressed a quick kiss to her lips.

"I mean it," she stressed as they pulled away, trying to hold a serious look, but her smile was obviously breaking through.

"You have my word," he promised her again, kissing her lips one more time before she finally stepped aside and let him exit the backroom.

She turned to watch him walk out of the bakery, holding in her sigh until the door shut behind him. Men, she thought to herself as she shook her head, it's completely fine when they're in the midst of it, but if someone steps over the line they've already crossed, then there'll be hell to pay.

——

(Y/N)'s night had been pretty good so far. Nothing drastic came out of Tommy's blow up - besides the fact that Freddie declined his train ticket out of Birmingham and instead proposed to Ada. Of course, that struck a chord within Tommy, (Y/N) got an earful about it after he found out, but everyone was still alive. What she didn't know was that the caliber of her night was going to go down drastically the second she entered the small, dingy apartment that she shared with her brother.

Freddie was standing by the desk that was pushed up against the far wall of the apartment's main room. (Y/N) thought nothing of it, until he turned to face her with what looked to be a stack of papers in his hand. "Would you care to explain what these are to me?" he asked her as he shook the papers slightly for effect.

"What are they?" (Y/N) asked for some details. All she could see was that he was holding a stack of white paper.

"They're letters," he gave her more context.

"Ok...?" she asked for even more details. Everyone writes letters...why was he getting so worked up over these?

"They're letters from Tommy Shelby; from the war," he finally brought the hammer down, his words coming out in a cross manner.

(Y/N) sighed as she heard what her brother had to say. "I'm not allowed to write to someone who we've known since grade school?" she asked him, her eyebrows raising.

"Not in this manner you aren't," he rebuked, his voice raising slightly as his frustration became more pronounced.

"Well what was I to do? No one else was writing to me, Freddie. I tried you multiple times and got nothing! Tommy responded to me. He was my lifeline while you were all away," she raised her voice with his, showing him that she wasn't going to bow out of the argument.

"There's writing to him, and then there's forming a well-pronounced relationship with him, (Y/N). I'm never going to unread some of the things that were written here!" Freddie countered, waving the letters in front of her again.

"You shouldn't have been reading them in the first place!" (Y/N) exclaimed, her eyes wide as she managed to snatch them out of his hands. She did a quick check of them, breathing the slightest sigh of relief when she found that they were all accounted for. These letters meant a great deal to her. They were the only things that made her smile during the dark years of war, and now they served as a reminder of the beginning of the relationship that she now shared with Tommy. "Why were you going through my drawer anyway, Freddie?" she asked him then, a glare present on her face.

"Ada heard talk..." he started.

(Y/N) quickly cut him off. "Oh...Ada," she over-exaggerated the words, rolling her eyes as she heard her brother huff.

"She heard talk that Tommy'd only did what he did for us because of the situation he was in. It got me thinking, and it led me to these letters," he continued with his explanation, motioning to the letters she was holding then.

"That still doesn't give me good reason to understand why you decided to go searching through my drawer of the desk," (Y/N) pointed out. Sure, Tommy being in a 'situation' could have possibly got him thinking; she wasn't going to discredit her brother's brain, but how he pieced it together and figured out she had these letters stashed away just wasn't computing for her.

"That doesn't fucking matter, (Y/N). You've been going around behind my back with him even after you've known that we're at odds with each other. That's uncalled for and it's something I won't fucking have anymore!" he disregarded her statement, instead letting his frustration get the best of him and shine through in his words.

(Y/N) looked at him for a few moments, digesting what he'd just said to her. She tried to decide which way she should go about this situation; bring in reason? Or let him have it? She was so close to choosing the latter. "It's a bit rich of you to be saying this considering you're doing the exact same thing with Ada...well you were trying to, until Tommy found out you got her pregnant," she finally gave her response. If it were any other time, she'd laugh at the fact that she was saying the exact same statement to the other side of the equation just weeks apart. But she kept a straight face now.

There was the slightest change in Freddie's composure after he heard these words. But yet he pushed on. "That doesn't change the fact that he's crossed the fucking line. I ought to put a bullet in his head for even thinking of you in that way!" he let his anger prevail, his voice raised yet again.

"And what good will that do? I told him this when he was thinking the same thing, and I'll have no remorse in telling you the same: dealing with him in this manner will make you an outright hypocrite because you are doing the exact same thing with his sister. In a way, you'd be unjustifying your situation by dealing with mine in such a way."

Silence fell between the two siblings after (Y/N) finished her piece. Both were staring at each other, and tension was building around them to the point that it could be cut with a knife. Freddie made the first move, breaking his gaze as he began walking to the door. (Y/N)'s voice stopped him before he could open it. "You're not going to find him because he's gone for the weekend...figuring out some deal with some fucking Inspector because you don't want to take your stubborn ass out of the picture," she told him, knowing exactly what he was about to go and do.

Her words made Freddie freeze. He didn't say anything, but instead stared at her for a moment longer before finally opening the door and exiting the apartment. (Y/N) couldn't help but exhale a sigh once she was alone. Men, she thought as she shook her head. Now she'd have to figure out a way to make sure that both her brother and her lover would make it out of this situation alive. Thankfully Tommy was out of the city for the weekend, and that Freddie knew about the potential of him getting caught if he went anywhere close to that Inspector at the moment.

——

"How did I know that the two of you would come here the very first chance you had?" (Y/N) questioned the two men that were currently pointing their revolvers at each other. She confidently walked up to them, seeing only their eyes shift over in the direction she was coming from. Their stances stayed unwavering; it was going to take more than a simple statement.

Tommy spoke first. "What're you doing here, (Y/N)?" he asked her, his eyes still fixed on his target that was lying below him.

"I'm making sure that neither of you do something stupid," she answered him as she stopped a few paces away from where their stand-off was occurring.

"I won't let him fuck up my sister's life for his cause," Tommy said then, his finger toying with the trigger as he spoke. (Y/N) didn't know what to say. The both of them had their weapons fixed on each other, and the tension was almost palpable around them.

Thankfully (Y/N) didn't need to do any negotiating. After a few moments, Freddie dropped his gun to the ground. "My God..." he started, a sigh escaping with his words, "you actually believe that," his next sentence was spoken as a statement, as it was made pretty obvious by Tommy where his thoughts were at the moment, "I love her, Tommy. I loved her since she was nine and I was twelve. And she loves me the same," he said then, the slightest smile creeping onto his lips as he spoke.

Tommy still kept his revolver fixed on its target, his gaze unwavering as he heard what his ex-best friend had to say. (Y/N) watched with her breath held as Freddie then stood from the ground. Tommy didn't lower his arm until Freddie took two steps so that they'd be standing face to face with each other.

"Do you even know the word?" Freddie queried, his eyes locked onto Tommy's, "because I can say the same thing about you with (Y/N); using her for your fucking gain, like she's just some dispensable object," he added then, his words spoken with a harshness.

"Freddie..." (Y/N) cut into their stand off with a warning tone.

"No, (Y/N). He needs to fucking hear this," Freddie brushed his sister off, "he needs to fucking know that this can't be a two way street; that he can't damn me for what he thinks I'm doing and then go and do the exact same," he spoke these next lines to Tommy, as if he was trying to get him to see sense in it all.

"Then you must know that we are in love too," (Y/N) spoke up after a few more tense moments had passed. This made Freddie break his gaze from Tommy to look over at (Y/N). She could tell just by his eyes that he was shocked by the news. "You heard me right," (Y/N) doubled down, moving closer to the two of them before she continued, "we are in love; have been since 1917, when we were writing letters to each other. He professed it to me the moment he found me at the apartment and I said it back all the same. You weren't there when it happened, Freddie, because you'd gone to meet Ada under that bridge you always find yourselves under," (Y/N) spelled it out for her brother, watching as his jaw went slightly slack. (Y/N) fought the smirk that was trying to form on her face. She loved having the upper hand. "That's right, I know about that. Us women, we talk, and Ada told me everything. I'm happy for the two of you, I see your relationship for what it is. I only hope that you both can stop patronizing each other and let it lie," she ended her statement by looking between the both of them.

The two men looked at each other again, the tension arising between them again. Freddie was the one to break the silence. "I don't know where you stand, but I will accept you and (Y/N) being together," he said, being the bigger person and the one to bury the hatchet first. (Y/N) wanted to breathe a sigh of relief, but she knew she couldn't yet. Not with the way that Tommy was still staring her brother down. She silently hoped that he'd choose peace as well.

"I will accept you and Ada being together, but if you do anything to hurt her, it will be the end of you," Tommy finally conceded, but not before throwing one last threat into the mix.

Nothing else was said then as the two men continued to stare at each other. (Y/N) knew what this was. Neither wanted to make the first move. So she stepped into their staring contest. "Freddie, why don't you go find Ada. She was telling me earlier about some pain that she was having. She may need you," (Y/N) tried to reason with her brother, pushing on his chest slightly so that he would get the cue that she wanted him to back away from the situation. This did the trick in getting Freddie's gaze off of Tommy, and (Y/N) watched it soften as his eyes found hers. He said nothing, and only nodded before he stepped away and began to leave the old warehouse building.

(Y/N) turned to Tommy once the other man was out of sight. "I'm sure you would have killed one another had I not shown up," she broke their silence, her hand fiddling with the lapel of his jacket as she focused her eyes on his chest.

"He's not worth it," Tommy responded, shaking his head slightly.

"Sure seemed like he was when I got here," (Y/N) replied, her eyes rising to meet his. She was able to see the starting of a smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

"He's not worth it, but you are," he flipped his words around, the second half of his statement succeeding in making (Y/N)'s cheeks heat up.

"You're a sap, Tommy Shelby," she teased him, smacking his chest gently, her words making his smirk appear full on his lips. She smiled back at him as she took hold of his lapels and pulled him closer to her so that she could press her lips to his. "You're a sap, and I love you," she whispered against his lips, feeling him smile against hers at her words. Tommy said nothing in response, but instead pulled her in for another kiss; a kiss that perfectly conveyed how he felt towards her.

Tagged: @mgcldydrms @the-anxious-youth @cloudofdisney @look-at-the-soul @elenavampire21 @mrsalwayswrite @julkaamazing @evita-shelby @lilyrachelcassidy @notyour-valentine @shelbydelrey @december16-1991 @onlydeadcells @peakyswritings @just-a-blackhole @watercolorskyy @strayrockette @peakyduchesss @alexxavicry @captivatedbycillianmurphy @yummycastiel @dark-academia-slut @tommystargirl @stevie75 @lyarr24 @signorellisantichrist @zablife @anotherblinder @midnightmagpiemama @cillmequick @rangerelik @lovemissyhoneybee @dandelionprints @letal-y-poetica @raincoffeeandfandoms @itscheybaby @gypsy-girl-08 @lora21 @insanitybyanothername @depxiety @dragons-are-my-favorite @sunsetbeachesandwriting @forgottenpeakywriter @cilliansangel

MASTERLIST

— SOURCE MATERIAL

summary : tommy’s plan to get you and wilbur back together doesn’t work. fortunately, you don’t need it. a quiet christmas party, joni mitchell and a little bit of alcohol works just fine.

genre : fluff with some angst peppered here and there

warnings : mentions of a breakup, alcohol/drinking (one mention of being drunk in the past, no one’s drunk in the fic), swearing, very minor panic attack, tommy being a little shithead

pairing : cc!wilbur x ex girlfriend!reader

pronouns : she/her

featuring : cc!wilbur soot, cc!tommyinnit (tommy and will are the only creators with dialogue),cc!phil + kristin (mentioned), cc!ranboo (mentioned), cc!tubbo (mentioned), cc!james marriott (mentioned), cc!aimsey (mentioned)

word count : 4.3k

note : christmas fic christmas fic christmas fic!!! december is one of my favourite times of the year and suddenly i am so inspired like i haven’t written anything in ages but december rolls around and boom here’s a 4k wilbur fic. thank you to carrie for letting me yell at her about this fic.

it wasn’t unusual for tommy to call you and ask for a ride home. he would catch an uber somewhere and sometimes he’d go to book one home and the nearest car would be over an hour away, so if his parents were busy he turned to the next best thing; his siblings. 

the internet was well aware of the younger boy’s habit of adopting older creators as family members. phil and kristin were his parents, and you and wilbur were his older siblings, and you were more than happy to give him lifts whenever you were free. 

“can you come pick me up?”

“hello to you too, tommy.” you had just ended your stream, and were processing the footage for editing to go on your youtube channel. “where are you?”

“i’m about twenty minutes from your place, i can text you the address.” tommy answered. “please?”

you were already putting on your coat. “alright, send me the address, i’ll be there soon.”

“you’re a life-saver, atom,” tommy said. you huffed at the nickname, given to you because “you barely matter” as tom had joked one afternoon a few months ago. before you could respond, he had hung up.

“shithead,” you pocketed your phone and bent down to tie your laces. your phone vibrated in your pocket, probably tommy with the address. you pulled it out one handed as you tightened your shoes. without looking, you copied the address into google maps and pressed enter, putting it on your dashboard mount. 

it should have clicked when you passed the dive bar you used to frequent. it should have clicked when you passed the corner shop.  it should have clicked when you passed the ginger stray you used to pet on your walk to the corner shop. perhaps you were in denial, but you didn’t register where you were until you were parked in front of the building.

you were nervous when you’d first moved in there. you had lived in the same shitty flat since uni, and when wilbur had tentatively asked you to to move in with him you had your doubts. not because you didn’t love will, no that was the least of your issues. you just didn’t want to step on his toes, it was his place after all. you were hesitant to bring your things in, feeling guilty when wilbur’s novels were moved to make room for your plants, when he had to install another rack to hold all your shoes, when you had come home from the bakery and found wilbur had swapped out his sheets for a set of yours. but over time, wilbur had eased you into it, and soon it was just as much your place as it was his. 

now it was just his again. it hadn’t been yours for nearly a year, and yet when you pulled into the strip of parking you had to consciously go to the ‘guests’ section. you took your phone off the dock, your knee jumping up and down as you called tommy. he didn’t answer. you texted him. and again. then you called a second time, leaving him a desperate voicemail. fifteen minutes went by and tommy hadn’t even read any of your texts, so you huffed, realising that you were going to have to physically go and retrieve tommy. 

you dug out your key card from the depths of your purse, praying that wilbur didn’t block your card. the light turned green and you breathed a sigh of relief, pushing the door open. in an attempt to make it take longer, hoping and praying that tommy would reply before you reached the third floor. you reached the top of the stairs and sighed, counting to three in your head before knocking. “tom? it’s me!” you knocked again, not wanting mr adams next door to hear your voice and come out to talk to you. he was a nice older man, but you didn’t want to be in this building for a second longer than you had to. “tommy?” you inhaled. “will?”

you heard a muffled voice, and the door swung open in front of you. “tom.” you breathed another sigh of relief. “great. let’s go, i have a video to edit.”

“wait, i have to grab my stuff.” tommy said, and then he was off, and you were alone. 

the first thing that struck you was how the place looked. it was exactly the same as when you had been there. you turned around to the end table behind the door. a few unopened letters, a small wooden bowl, and a small plant. the bowl had been your idea, weeks of wilbur coming to you with “darling, do you know where my keys are?” before you caved and bought it for him. lo and behold, his keyes were nestled inside, spotify code keychain that you had also bought him sitting face up. the plant was new, and you ran a finger over the leaf.

on the couch there was a grey woollen blanket thrown over the back, also yours. though, technically he had bought it. you were the only one who used it, complaining about the cold. as lovely as you thought will’s flat was the heating barely worked. will radiated warmth, both physically and emotionally. 

the entire flat still contained your presence. any random person wouldn’t be able to tell that you hadn’t lived there since you and wilbur broke up. 

“hey.”

you spun around, wilbur smiling sheepishly. “sorry, sorry. would it be awfully cliche if I said I didn’t mean to startle you?”

you laughed breathily. “yes. but it’s okay.”

he nodded, guilty smile still pinched across his face. “tommy’s just grabbing his shit. you know that kid, fucking menace.”

if tommy noticed how awkward it was, he didn’t say anything. you and wilbur both brightened visibly when he came through the door. watching wilbur hug tom goodbye, squeezing his shoulder gently, it hits you suddenly that you haven’t seen wilbur in nearly seven months.

you’re quiet as you drop tommy off, and he wants to apologise. wants to say sorry for making you pick him up and not telling you his phone was on the verge of dying. he wants to say he’s sorry for all those times you cancelled streams, claiming you “weren’t feeling well” when he knew you were upset about wilbur. 

but tommy also saw all those times wilbur was curled up in that grey blanket you left behind. buying plants to fill in the gaps of things you took and to give him a purpose, something that depended on him. he saw the way wilbur’s eyes brightened when he heard your voice, his shoulder’s slumping before the door shut when you left. 

how one time he’d had stood in front of a drunk wilbur, tear tracks running down his face and had to wrestle will’s phone off him to stop him from calling you. 

tommy didn’t know what had happened between you two; you were adults, he was only seventeen at the time. it felt naive of him to think you two belonged together, but he couldn’t help it. 

“thanks for driving me.” he said earnestly as he stepped out of the car. you nodded and gave him a pained smile. “i love you.”

it wasn’t a normal occurrence, saying things like that, but you softened. “i love you.” tommy brightened seeing your more genuine expression, but he could still see that your interaction with wilbur had left you upset. 

you collapsed back onto your sofa once you were home, not in the mood to edit your video anymore. 

wilbur always worked too much. it was something his viewers loved; how dedicated he was to them. but they didn’t see the sleepless nights, when you would wake up to wilbur typing frantically in his notes app, a muffled “go back to sleep, darling” when he noticed you were awake.

but then it turned to missing entire nights of sleep, coming back from streaming to find wilbur passed out on the couch, shoes still on from last night. sometimes he would talk to you about it, laying on your chest as you ran your fingers through his hair and whispering about how he didn’t want to let anyone down.

you soothed him as best as you could, but you knew that the dark circles and the endless cups of coffee would only get worse. he didn’t have the time or energy to take care of himself, let alone you. not that you needed him to take care of you, but the two of you lived together and you probably talked to the fedex person more than you did your boyfriend.

you’d only been split for eight months, but you’d been missing him for far longer.

you were putting up christmas decorations when tommy called next. stringing lights across the shelves in your office, only bothered to decorate the one room. it wasn’t like you’d be doing anything anyway. “yeah, tom?” your phone was wedged between your shoulder and ear as you tried to detangle the lights. 

“hey, me and will were streaming together and i have to get home like, now but my dad isn’t available until three,” tommy explained, and you winced at the sound of wilbur’s name. “i totally get it if you can’t, but-“

“i’ll be there, but i’m going to mcdonald’s on the way back and you are paying.” tommy laughed and you had to move the phone away from your ear, giving up on the lights for the time being. “will still has the same office right?”

“yeah you can get there alright?” he asked. “you don’t need the address?” you assured him you’d be fine, and he paused guiltily. “we may also be locked in. the door broke again.”

“jesus,” you shook your head. “yeah, alright i’ll come let you out. dickhead,” you smiled at his noise of indignation before hanging up.

this time it was worse. the last time you’d been planning on avoiding wilbur until about five minutes before you saw him. this time you had the whole drive over to think about what it would be like. his hair was longer, you’d noticed when you first saw him. you always loved it when his hair was longer but it got in his face too much and he hated the feeling. 

you’d cut his hair for him once. wilbur sitting on a chair in the kitchen of your flat (this was before you’d moved in together) while you sat on the bench behind him, swinging your legs ever so slightly as he gazed adoringly up at you.

“let me take a picture,” you’d giggled, turning to grab your phone. “you look so cute.”

“no,” he’d whined. “darling,” he’d still smiled when you prompted, and you looked softly at your screen, completely enamoured. “do not post that anywhere, can’t have anyone knowing that i simp for you.”

“dork,” you had put your phone down and ruffled his hair, some loose hairs falling out from where you’d cut. 

you pulled your car up to the pavement and went up to wilbur’s office. it was a fairly small building, and you managed to get there without anyone asking any questions. 

you reached the office and peered inside. it was dark. you opened the door and stuck your head in, but there was no one inside. “hey!” tommy said much too loudly, him and wilbur coming around the corner. your eyes flicked between the two of them, narrowing slightly.

“i thought you said the door was locked?” you asked uncertainly.

“it’s not,” tommy said simply, and he reached a hand out and shoved you through the open door, shutting it behind you. “but it will be.”

“what the fuck?” you banged on the window.

tom pushed wilbur over, but the older man just looked at him incredulously. “have you lost your mind?”

“please?” tommy asked, gesturing to where you were glaring at him.

“no!” wilbur said, hitting tommy’s arm off his shoulder. “you’re a dickhead. now let her out.”

“fine.” tommy’s shoulders slumped and he moved out of the way. wilbur rolled his eyes at tommy, saying he’d do it and then making will. his hand wrapped around the doorknob and he was halfway through an apology to you when tommy’s hand collided with his back.

wilbur stumbled toward and you both watched in horror as tommy shut the door, triumphantly locking it with a click.

“tommy you fucker!” wilbur yelled.

“now, i may have been lying about needing a lift and being locked in the office, but i wasn’t lying about needing to go home.”

“thomas if you leave i’m gonna delete your channel!” tommy actually looked nervous at wilbur’s threat. “open the door.”

tommy sighed again, finally giving up. he jiggled the doorknob and his eyes widened. “okay i would let you out but i may have broken the door.”

he backed away, both you and will yelling at him. 

you turned so your back was against the door, sitting down with your knees up to your chest. will came to sit next to you. “are you okay?”

“i just don’t like knowing there’s no way out of a room.” you said quietly. “i don’t like being trapped.”

“i know,” he said softly. “is there anything i can do besides breaking a window?”

you exhaled, smiling weakly. “can you just talk to me?” you fiddled nervously, suddenly worried about what he would think.

“of course i can.” without realising, wilbur had reached out and was dragging his thumb gently over the back of your hand. “you know that step down the street from ou-my flat? the one that you always used to trip on? they fixed it.” you didn’t seem to notice his mistake, so he kept going. “and there’s a new bar a few miles away and we’ve been trying to get them to let us play there, so we might have a new gig bar soon.”

your breathing was more even now, and he squeezed your hand gently. you squeezed back and he smiled.

you could vaguely hear tommy saying he was going to get maintenance, and wilbur shuffled. “i’m gonna see if i can jimmy it with a card. could you grab one for me please?” 

you reached over to will’s desk and grabbed a random card out of his wallet. you went to hand it to him but before he could grab it you took a closer look. “you kept this?”

over a year ago as a joke you’d bought him one of those simp cards from the arthur meme, and it had your name written underneath it. “you’re only allowed to simp for me,” you’d say as you gave it to him, making him crack up.

“yeah,” wilbur admitted, his cheeks turning warm. “guess i forgot it was there.”

he shoved it into the lock and wiggled it around until he heard a click and the door swung open. “here.” he tried to give it back to you, but you shook your head.

“you can keep it, or throw it out. whatever you want. it’s yours,” you babbled, not meeting his eyes.

wilbur wasn’t sure what came over him in the next ten seconds, but before he could stop himself he blurted out “does this mean i’m still allowed to love you?”

your gaze shot up and your eyes met wilbur’s, warm and brown, filled with uncertainty. eventually, you nodded. “always.”

wilbur wasn’t sure if that was if that was an invitation, but before he could stop himself he was wrapping his arms around you. you burrowed into his chest, breathing deeply. “did tommy really parent-trap us?”

“well,” you replied shyly. “don’t they get back together in the parent trap? not exactly accurate to the source material.”

“well we all know how important it is,” wilbur said quietly, eyes flicking down for just an instant. 

“very important,” he could feel your breath on his face.

“it’s a christmas miracle!”

“it’s gonna be if i don’t kill him,” wilbur muttered, teeth gritted as you pulled apart to find tommy. he was holding a stick, and seemed to register your confusion.

“couldn’t find maintenance, so i went outside and found this.” he said proudly. “i was helping.”

“yeah actually,” will said genuinely, holding his hand out. “give us a look.” tommy handed the stick to wilbur and was promptly hit in the face with it. “that’s for locking us in there, bastard.”

“ow.” tommy picked the stick off the ground and chucked it at wilbur, but it just bounced off the door behind him. “okay fine. i’m sorry.”

“you better be,” you stepped towards him and he flinched, clearly sure you were going to attack him like wilbur had. “come on, let’s go.”

as tommy said goodbye to wilbur, the two of you made eye contact over tom’s shoulder. he smiled at you, and you smiled back. he raised his eyebrows slightly, grin overtaking his face. you nodded almost imperceptibly. he’d call you.

he didn’t. 

it had been two weeks since you’d last spoken, and he never called you. you didn’t want to admit that it hurt you. you had spent eight months trying to get over wilbur, all that progress destroyed in an instant.

you’d never deleted his contact, not even when you first broke up. you hovered over it debating on whether to call him, before exiting out and closing your phone.

your phone stayed dark for approximately one second before it was lighting up again. you answered, “yeah, tommy?”

“so, atom, me and a few others were thinking of having a little christmas get together on the 23rd? would you want to come?” he rushed out, wanting to get the words out before you said anything.

you considered it for a second. your parents would be going on holiday. they invited you, but you always wanted to spend your christmas with wilbur. this year, you’d declined again, without really knowing the reason. it’s not like you had other plans.

“yeah, alright,” you said, and you heard tom let out a triumphant breath on the other side. “who’s coming?”

“you, phil and kristin, tubbo, james, ranboo, maybe aimsey, a few other people maybe…” he trailed off, and you frowned.

“wilbur?” you asked.

“yeah.” tommy admitted. “but there will be enough people that you can be a coward and not talk to him.”

“tommy,” you said, voice low. “don’t.”

“okay, i’m sorry. please come?”

it’s not like you had anything better to do. “i’ll be there, tommy. don’t worry.” 

the things you would do for that fucker. he could never know. god knows his head was big enough without you telling him that.

while you were quietly dreading it, tommy seemed almost giddy with excitement. so you forced a smile and acted happy about it, even after tommy abandoned you within thirty seconds of you arriving. 

you managed to strike up a conversation with ranboo, though, grateful that you knew everyone. you’d isolated yourself quite a bit after the breakup, worried that your friends would rather be friends with will.

your worries were shattered when you were  engulfed in a hug from him. they seemed really interested in your upcoming projects and you asked about his with equal fervour. 

the night was going much better than you’d expected, and it was winding down when wilbur finally approached you. joni mitchell singing through the speakers about her lover making her weak in the knees, sipping on a drink with your head resting on top of aimsey’s.

“hey,” he was quiet, words slurred more from being tired than drunk. “can we talk?”

you looked down at aimsey, who was immersed in conversation with james and tommy, so you slid off the counter and followed him down the hall. tommy’s flat was small, so the two of you found a quiet corner. your shoulder was pressed into the wall, looking at him over the rim of your glass as he fiddled with his glasses. “i’m sorry i didn’t call.”

“it’s fine.” you said stiffly.

“no, it’s not.” he pressed. “i fucked up. not just when i didn’t call. i fucked up when we were still together.”

“will,” you tried. “it’s okay. it’s the past.”

“but you’re not.” he said. “you’re not the past, not my past. at least, i don’t want you to be.” he took a shuddering breath. “i was so worried about letting people down that i fucked up, and i ruined us.”

“you didn’t ruin anything.” it came out breathy, just above a whisper and you gave him a watery smile. “definitely not us.”

you didn’t know why you were getting so emotional, maybe it was how cold and dreary it had been, maybe it was exhaustion or the alcohol. or maybe it was because wilbur had taken your hands in his and pressed them to his lips. 

“i’m so sorry, darling,” he murmured against your fingers, squeezing his eyes shut tight. “so so sorry.”

“it’s not your fault, will.” you said. “i could have done something.”

he opened his eyes and met yours, shining as you tried to fight back tears. “i’m so hard to handle, and i’m selfish and i’m sad,” he sang along to joni mitchell softly, pulling you forward to wrap your arms around him. he smelled like cinnamon, and he let you cry for as long as you needed.

you pulled away softly, looking at him as your hand ghosted over his jaw. “you didn’t lose me, will.” 

“you’re saying you think you’re the best baby i ever had?” he asked, eyes shining, and you pushed him away. 

you giggled. “how presumptuous of me.”

“you would be correct though,” he admitted, coming to pull you close again, swaying on the spot. he leant forward and pressed his lips to yours, you threading your hands into his hair.

“you have got to let me cut this,” you mumbled, and wilbur laughed against your mouth. he pressed his forehead against your shoulder, and took a shaky breath.

“i miss you.” he said. “i stopped working so much, i’ve been taking care of myself more. let me love you again?��

his voice wobbled, clearly so sure that you would reject him. he had hurt you, he knew that. will let his thumbs stroke up and down your arms and you got goosebumps even through your jumper. “you do have a permit, don’t you?”

he laughed, relief thick in his voice. “of course, darling. have my card in my wallet.”

“then i guess that’s okay.” you said, as if it didn’t matter to you all that much. “as long as you let me love you.”

“you can do whatever you want,” wilbur kissed you again. “as long as it’s with me.”

Falling Slowly - Chapter 7

Pairing: Tommy Miller x f!reader

Word Count: 4000+

Rating: Mature - 18+ ONLY!

Warnings: Just like ao3, “creator chooses not to use warnings.” If you click Keep Reading, that means you agree that you’re the age to handle mature themes. Also by clicking Keep Reading, you understand warnings may not be complete in order to avoid spoilers for the story. 

Notes: This chapter is back to reader/Daisy’s pov

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❤If you enjoy the fic, please consider giving me a warm beverage! (It is not required in any way!)

**Divider made by @benkeibear 

**Reader is not described

Main Masterlist

Falling Slowly Masterlist

Tommy Miller Masterlist

&lt;<;Chapter 6<<

Outbreak Day: Daisy

I snuggled into bed after tucking Jax in, fully intending on reading my book until Tommy came home. It shouldn’t be too much longer, depending on how well the Rivieras can hold their liquor. But after a couple of chapters, I was actively fighting on keeping my eyes open, a day of packing and chasing Jax around finally catching up to me. I set the book on my stomach, closing my eyes to just rest a moment…

A blood curdling scream from outside rips me from my sleep and I jerk myself awake, heart racing and frozen in place while I try to listen for more, my hand automatically feeling for Tommy in the bed next to me, but feeling cool sheets and no Tommy. In the distance, I can hear some light commotion but I can’t quite place it. I quickly get out of bed, grab the wireless phone off its stand on the side table and pop my head into Jax’s room, finding him still asleep. I dial Tommy quickly, but when I put the phone to my ear, all I hear is beeping. I hang up, putting the phone to my ear before dialing this time and hear the same sound. Which means the phones are down. 

Fuck. 

I head downstairs quietly, ears on full alert for the slightest sound or movement as I grab my cell phone and unplug the charger. It’s fully charged but it too has no signal. This is not good. Landlines and cell signals cut? 

I move to the living room and switch on the tv, colored lines reflecting in my eyes as channel after channel alternates between colored lines and displaying the same emergency message:

NATIONAL ALERT

PRIMARY ENTRY POINT SYSTEM

ISSUED AN

EMERGENCY ACTION

NOTIFICATION

“...indoors. Law enforcement and emergency services are in the area and will be in contact with further instructions….Stay indoors. Law enforcement-”

I switch off the tv, fully awake and alert now. What the fuck was going on? Are we being invaded? And where’s Tommy? 

I hear more sounds outside, car doors slamming and helicopters moving about in the distance and it jerks me into gear. Tommy had taught me some basic things to do in case we had to get out fast, in case of an invasion or something else. I don’t know all of what he saw when he served overseas but he said it was good to always be prepared, just in case. 

Thankfully, our bags were already packed, suitcases and backpacks against the hall wall waiting to be put into Tommy’s truck. I dashed into the kitchen and packed a bit more food than I had initially intended, tossing some extra filled water bottles into a tote and setting it down by the backpacks. I quickly went upstairs and changed into jeans and a shirt, grabbing one of Tommy’s flannels and sliding my arms into it, trying to at least get some comfort from his scent. Hair pulled back to keep it from my face, I lace up my shoes, trying to tell myself this would all be for nothing, that it was really a test and Tommy would be coming home any moment to tell me everything was fine. Another quick glance at Jax shows me he’s still asleep and I let him sleep for now. There’s not really a reason to wake him until I’m certain we have to move. I toss an extra outfit of jeans and a shirt in his backpack just in case he can’t change before we head out, an extra pair of shoes stuffed in a bag on top of his clothes. 

It’s when I head downstairs to wait for Tommy that I hear it again, that scream that sets my entire body on high alert, nerves coursing at their full fight or flight. 

I move to the front window and slide the curtain back just enough to peek outside, hearing crashing coming from next door. I can’t quite make it out, but it looks like Mr. Johnson is attacking Mrs. Johnson? No, that can’t be right. But then they move into the streetlight, Mrs. Johnson’s scream ringing out again and that’s definitely the one I heard and Mr. Johnson is definitely not behaving right. 

Without thinking, I grab the baseball bat near the door and open it, stepping out into the yard and quickly sneak up on the couple, Mr. Johnson having pinned Mrs. Johnson to the ground. He’s hunched over her, an odd wheezing sound coming from him. He seems to sense me, his body stiffening and when his head turns towards me…what the fuck is that coming from his mouth? Before he can move I swing, my bat landing its target square in the face, Mr. Johnson flying back and laying still on the ground. Carefully, I walk over to them, glancing over at Mr. Johnson who’s face was definitely smashed in from my swing. Fuck, I didn’t mean to kill him! 

But then I hear gurgling from Mrs. Johnson and I look down at her, seeing the exact moment when the light leaves her eyes. She’s still for a moment, the sounds of car tires screeching and helicopters flying overhead getting a little louder. Then her body jerks inhumanely, and I back up quickly, gripping the bat tighter in my hand. As she sits up, she turns her head to me and I can see the same whatever the fuck coming out of her mouth just like Mr. Johnson and my entire body yells “JAX! GET JAX AND GO!”

So I do. I turn and run as fast as I can back to my house, hearing screeching and feet pounding the cement behind me, Mrs. Johnson chasing me back to the house. I try to slam the door closed but she’s there, bouncing off of it, scrambling to push it open and I don’t wait, running down the hall and throwing everything I can reach in her way, even chucking the bat at her head. It seems to slow her down just enough for me to take the stairs 3 at a time, launching myself into Jax’s room and slamming the door shut and locking it, putting my back against the door as Mrs. Johnson screeches and pounds at the door from the other side. Jax is sitting up in bed, wide eyed and afraid and it kills me I can’t move to him, to comfort him and shield him from whatever horror is happening. 

“Hey buddy!” I’m struggling with the door but I have to get him safe.

“Mommy?”

“Listen, Jax. I need you to play a game for me, ok? I need you to get in your favorite hiding spot.”

“Mommy, who’s knocking on the door?”

I dig my heels into the floor, pushing my back harder against the door as Mrs. Johnson continues to pound into it. 

“Don’t worry about that, little man. I need you to hide. Can you do that for me? Be silent and wait for me, daddy, or Uncle Joel to come get you. If you do, you win.”

He’s still scared but can sense my urgency and nods while hopping out of bed. “Ok, mommy. Hug first?”

Tears fall down my cheeks and I hope he can’t see them. “Not right now, bud. I really need you to hide and not come out for anything other than daddy or Uncle Joel. Can you do that now, please?”

He studies me for a moment before nodding. “Ok mommy.” He moves to his closet, getting inside and closing the door behind him. I hear him rummaging around, going deep into his favorite hiding place and I pray to whatever is listening that he will stay there, stay safe. Even if….even if I don’t come back. 

“Ready bud?” A quiet, muffled “Yes” meets my ears and I choke back a sob. “Ok baby, remember to stay silent, ok? No matter what. Until Daddy or Uncle Joel comes for you. And remember…. I love you bud.”

“I love you too, mommy.”

The sob gets stuck in my throat as Mrs. Johnson heaves herself against the wood of the door. I take a deep breath and open the door, letting Mrs. Johnson clamber into the room, falling onto the floor with the force of her movements. While she’s trying to get up, I grab Jax’s Rangers bat from where it hangs on the wall, my eyes never leaving Mrs. Johnson as she growls and launches herself at me. I push her back with the bat but damn she’s strong, what I can only describe as tendrils coming from her open mouth as if they’re trying to reach out to me. I push her back and she stumbles, hitting the floor and I turn, running out of the door and making a lot of noise as I do. She follows me without hesitation, falling down the stairs but clambering up more quickly than someone her age should do. She chases me around the kitchen island and I pull out all the drawers, knocking everything off the counter onto the floor or at her as she runs after me, growling and screeching. I manage to make it past her and back out the front door, quickly glancing around before running to the backyard of our other neighbor’s house. 

Mrs. Johnson bounces back up, running full out after me as I run through 2, 3, 4, 5 backyards, eventually spilling back out onto the street, other people now outside throwing things into cars. New screeches join the one coming from behind me and I run the opposite way down the street, making sure to stay out of the streetlights. I get behind a car and squat down, turning to look where I came from. Mrs. Johnson had chased me for another block down this street, but then a man emerged from the house across that street and she changed course, lunging after him as he screamed, sounds of a scuffle coming from inside his house. 

I take a moment, my chest heaving, trying to catch my breath before glancing around. I’m about 3 blocks from our house and I have a choice to make: I can either take the streets, which will be brighter to see by but definitely have a higher chance of running into those…things. Or I can take the backyards, infinitely darker but less likely to run into whatever they are. I hope. 

I decide on the latter, taking a couple of deep breaths before glancing around. Seeing no one paying me any mind, I run, back through a few backyards before reaching the end of my street. I turn to duck into the backyard but a movement catches my eye and I’m able to quickly turn as a man falls past me, growling, outstretched hands just barely missing me. I run again, in the opposite direction of my house, trying to keep him away from Jax at least, the man chasing me as I run down the street. The cramp in my side is making me slow, reverberating pain shooting out into the rest of my ribs and I know I can’t keep this up. I spot a semi-truck without its trailer and I head for it, getting a running leap and praying I make it. I manage to get high enough up on the front to pull myself up quickly, but then a hand shoots out and grabs my ankle. I quickly kick out, knocking the man in the face and he goes down, pulling me with him. My back hits the pavement and the air whooshes from my lungs, momentarily stunning me. My vision swims but then he’s on me, his face leaning towards mine, tendrils reaching for me and I put my arms out, and push against him, gluing my mouth shut as he pushes closer to me. Then my hands land on a rock and I grip it, slamming it into the side of his head. He slides off me sideways and I raise the rock again, sitting up and slamming it into his head over and over until he stops moving.

Fuck I hope this doesn’t infect via blood. I really, really hope it doesn’t. 

I don’t have time to think about it, my sole focus on getting back to Jax and getting him safe. Even if that means I have to…get rid of myself. 

I stand up, glancing around and figuring out where I am, silently moving back towards my house through the backyards, listening closely for any sounds of movement. Thank God I run into no one else, moving around the front of my house and heading inside. I really made a mess in here but hopefully that deters anyone else from coming in. Not that those things really care. I go upstairs and see Jax’s door still open from when Mrs. Johnson chased me out, what feels like days ago. But then I see Jax’s closet door cracked open and it definitely wasn’t open when I left. 

“Jax? Jax, it’s Mommy

. Are you still there?” I open the door, holding my breath, tears silently flowing down my cheeks and burning my eyes, praying that I don’t find him here, hurt. But then…he’s not here. I look around the rest of his room. No Jax. 

“Jax?” I yell out of his bedroom door, my voice echoing around the upstairs. Nothing. No noise, no movement. I check every room to be sure but find nothing. I’m freaking out, no idea if Tommy or Joel came back and got him or…or. 

I can’t think about the or.

I stand in my destroyed kitchen, debating on what to do next, when my eyes land on the table, my backpack on it. Which is definitely not where I left it. I quickly walk over to it, shifting it slightly and that’s when I notice the piece of paper on it with his handwriting. 

Tommy’s.

Hey Darlin’,

We’ve got Jax and Sarah. We’re heading to the cabin. We’ll meet you there.

Please be safe. I love you.

Tommy

I clutch the paper and hold it to my chest for several moments, allowing the tears to freely flow as I hold on to the hope that this letter brought me. He’s safe. Jax is safe with his dad. Joel and Sarah too. I wonder if they found Rose…. 

Snapping my eyes open, I shake my head to clear it of my emotions, carefully folding the note and sliding it into my pocket. I quickly run upstairs and pop into Jax’s room, quickly grabbing his favorite stuffed bunny from his bed where he laid unpacked and forgotten in the hustle to get to safety.

I toss the luggage into my trunk, grabbing my backpack last and tossing it into the passenger seat. I take one last quick glance around, grabbing some photos from the fridge before I manually open the garage door, hopping into the driver’s seat and locking the door and my clicking my seatbelt into place. At the end of my driveway I look back to my house, our house, and allow 1 tear to shed down my cheek as I pull away from the only house that had truly been my home. 

I had to re-route myself several times trying to get to the back highway that would eventually lead to the cabin we’d purchased a year or so ago. It seems like a lifetime away with all that’s happened in the last few hours. I stop for no one, my only goal to make it to the cabin to my family. Then we can go from there. 

Miraculously, I make it to the nearly hidden drive without a hitch, grateful Tommy had taken us on several back roads so I was more familiar with alternate routes. I hadn’t seen another car or person in at least 2 hours, but that was normal. Most people had closed up their cabins for season after Labor Day, and no one really went down this road aside from random homesteaders or a handful of farmers. I wonder if they’re ok. 

I nearly miss the turnoff, stopping quickly and backing up a little to turn between the brush, branches, and twigs snapping at my car. I make the final curve and the cabin pops into view, looking exactly like it had when we left it last. 

No lights. No truck. 

No Tommy. 

I turn off the car, staring at the cabin for several minutes, but nothing happens. No one is here. Or at least, no one noticed I am here. Or made a move about it. Well, there was only one thing to do. I took a deep breath and got out, moving around towards the trunk and getting out the crowbar stashed by the spare tire. I grip it and head towards the cabin, eyes scanning everything to sense movement. I quietly try to turn the handle on the front door, but it remains locked. Sliding the key from my pocket, hands shaking I push it into the lock, hearing the little click it makes as it opens the door. I push it open and stand back, just in case. But the house is still and silent as I poke my head around the corner. I move throughout the cabin, checking all of the rooms. No one is here and, by the looks of it, no one has been here since we were here last. He’s supposed to be here, with Jax, with Joel and Sarah and maybe Rose. Where are they?

The cabin is quiet, eerily silent and I try not to let panic envelop me. They could have had to reroute like me. Maybe they ran out of gas and have to go on foot? I didn’t pass anyone but they could be behind me. Or hiding from the main road. Because regular people were behaving almost worse than those things. 

I jump into action, quickly unloading my car into the cabin and parking it in the garage. I take the outside broom, and the shotgun Tommy had kept here, and walk down to the end of the nearly hidden drive, sweeping the tire tracks from the drive. This will help to keep this place hidden, and it’s far enough away from the road that even if all the lights were on and it was dark outside, no one could see us tucked away in the trees. A couple hours later my tracks are hidden and I’ve checked the power grid how Tommy showed me, grateful as fuck to the Joneses for wanting a fully off the grid place and having most of that installed before they sold it to us for practically nothing. I leave the fancy electric metal window coverings on the windows, changing nothing of the cabin’s outward appearance. People were nuts and, as of this moment, I am a woman, completely alone in the middle of nowhere. 

Alone.

Everything locked up and lights dimly on, I quickly take a shower and again, thank the Joneses mentally for the solar power they hooked up so I could take this shower and have some light. After, I unpacked our suitcases, hesitating over Jax’s clothes. He usually sleeps in the 3rd bedroom with Sarah. She was officially going to let him have the top bunk this weekend and he was so excited. I start to cry then, pulling out all of his tiny clothes and, instead, folding them and setting them on shelves in our closet. I can always move them into the spare room if he wants it. It’s when I reach Tommy’s suitcase, opening it and getting a whiff of his cologne, his scent permeating my brain that I lose it, officially. Grabbing a shirt of Jax’s and Tommy’s, I lay on the floor and cry, huge heaving sobs until I fall asleep there, clutching each of their shirts to my chest. 

They don’t turn up the next day. Or the next. I try to keep myself busy so I pull out all of the bed sheets, fluff them out and put them on the beds. I dust, cleaning everything that was already clean. I take out all of the food I’d brought with me, along with some sustainable things we already had there and take stock. I do the same with the medicine cabinet and first aid kits. Hell, I even dig out the sewing kit and fix the tiny tear on the side of the couch. But by the end of that first week, I could no longer find anything to do inside, my nerves leaving me jumpy at every gust of the wind.

So I go outside. I check over the greenhouse and the root cellar, making note that the self watering system seems to have worked on most of the vegetable plants. Reading my gardening journal, I see that I should plant some things soon, so I pull out my little box of seeds and get to work, planting what needs done both in the greenhouse and the root cellar. This takes me nearly another full week, as I decided to clean it up a bit and reorganize things.

2 weeks and still nothing. No one. 

I wasn’t running out of food per say, but I knew adding 5 more mouths to feed would bring us to the end of our stores pretty quick. So I tried my hand at fishing, which was not really my forte. I did manage to catch a couple, but I would need a lot more than a couple small/medium fish. Well, practice makes at least better, which is what I tell myself as I work at it for the next few days, eventually getting a little better and finding a better spot to fish from. I had found a homesteading book on the shelf that showed me how to prepare fish, so I followed that and froze a bunch, hoping this would at least help when they showed up. 

I never strayed far from the cabin, afraid that if I did, they would show up and leave, assuming I wasn’t there. I didn’t want to miss them again and every time I thought about how I had missed them back in Austin, I wanted to cry and scream and throw things. I really wasn’t sure what to do other than what I was doing - preparing and waiting. I had no idea where they were, or if they were… no, they were alive. I could feel it. But even if I wanted to go find them, where would I start? The more I thought on this, the less I knew, driving every possible route in my head but nothing with a clear path to finding them. 

5 weeks. Well, almost 5 weeks. Still alone. 

His scent is fading from his clothes, the flannel I kept with me and hold at night barely smelling like him. I had put others in storage bags, hoping that I would only have to pull them out to give them to Jax and Tommy and not just so I could smell them and feel, just for a moment, like they are here. 

I pull Tommy’s flannel top tighter around me, shifting the covers a little higher on my shoulders when I hear it - an engine. 

I sit bolt upright, my ears straining to listen to what was obviously getting closer. I hadn’t heard anything since I came here, not even a truck passing on the road. I hop out of bed and quickly grab the shotgun, my heart racing along with my brain, the many possibilities of who is out there swirling around enough to drive me crazy. I shake my head a little and look out of the peep hole in the front door. A car pulls up slowly, not one I recognize. The sun was just rising, not enough light to see inside the vehicle. If it were bad people, surely they would’ve brought a truck? Maybe not. But then the side door opens, and a mop of black curls gets out of the backseat and my heart stops, breath seizing my lungs as the person straightens out, gripping a shotgun in his hands as he turns towards the cabin and a sob ripples through me as I rip open the door, standing there for a moment in utter shock as my eyes lay on him. My other half, the love of my life.

Tommy.

>>Chapter 8>>

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blood pact

a short vampire au fic for my 'hey loyal write this' challenge. this prompt was given to me by @michygranger23! i have intentions to finish this but for now, have the first 'chapter'.

content warning: allusions to child abuse though nothing is stated outright but the context is fairly obvious

Techno wasn’t supposed to go out on his own.

He was too young, too vulnerable. He was supposed to stay with the coven. It wouldn’t be until he had gotten older, until he developed all the abilities of a born vampire that he would be allowed out alone. But the voices in his head were restless and Phil had other business to attend to and he had seen a small playground nearby.

It couldn’t hurt to sneak out, just for a bit, and he was bored.

When Techno got to the playground, he almost turned right around and went back to the coven.

Despite the fact it was the middle of the night, somewhere past one a.m., the playground wasn’t empty. There was another child, balancing on top of the jungle gym, the laces of his ratty sneakers undone, walking the metal bar like a tightrope, back and forth. 

He was human. Techno could tell that from this distance, could smell the blood and hear the boy’s heart beating.

In his indecision on whether to leave or stay, he had lingered long enough that even a human would notice him.

“Who the hell are you?”

The human boy had stopped, leaning forward precariously to peer at Techno.

This was bad. He wasn’t supposed to talk to humans.

“Uh…”

‘Are you some kind of freak?”

“Heh?!?”

Without thinking, Techno had moved closer.

“Watch what I can do,” the boy said before dropping down, hanging off the bar, upside down, waving his hands out in front of him.

Techno grinned.

“That’s pretty cool. Wanna see what I can do?”

The boy returned the smile.

“Yeah!”

Techno pulled himself up onto the jungle gym, easily scrambling to the top. Like the boy, he let himself drop down but holding onto the bar with his hands. Then he did a somersault, still holding onto the bar. When he was done, Techno settled onto the top bar.

“That was alright,” said the boy, climbing back to the top and sitting down. His eyes were intense, clothes in about the same condition as his shoes. “I bet I could do it.”

Techno laughed.

“I could show you,” he offered.

The boy’s features softened.

“Really? Cool!” He shoved his hand in Techno’s direction. “I’m Dream.”

Techno took his hand, careful not to use too much strength, forgetting that his hand would be cold to the touch. Dream didn’t seem to care.

“I’m Techno. Are you supposed to be out here?”

With a shrug, Dream shook his head.

“No. Are you?”

“No.”

Both boys shared a conspiratorial giggle; nothing bonded eight year-olds quite like doing something they shouldn’t be, a fact that transcended both life and undeath.

“Okay, show me how to do it,” said Dream.

***********************************************************

Winter didn’t bother Techno.

He had always liked the snow, ever since he was little. Or littler. According to Phil and the others in the coven, he still wasn’t old enough to go off on his own. But that didn’t stop him from slipping out again, when all the others were busy, and wandering down to the playground.

He could hear the creaking of the swing before he rounded the corner.

A grin spread across Techno’s face and hurried over to the swings.

“Did you sneak out too?”

Dream looked up, immediately brightening.

“Hey!” He dragged his feet to stop the swing, same old sneakers making a trail in the gravel. “Do you want see how high we can go?”

“Sure!” Techno sat on the swing next to Dream, kicking off the ground. “I’m the best swinger out of my friends.”

Techno didn’t mention that the only friends he had were members of his coven and out of those, the only people he had ever played with like this were Wilbur and Tommy.

“I bet I can go higher,” said Dream, his smile wide as he began to swing.

“You’re on.”

Caught up in the thrill of having someone else to play with, in the sort of spirited rivalry that only comes from childhood friends, Techno didn’t realize exactly how high he was going, pink hair whipping out around him. It was higher than any normal child should’ve been able to go, level with the top of the swing, almost as high as the trees around them.

“Techno!”

Dream’s voice was a mix of awe and panic. It startled Techno and he lost his grip, sliding off the swing and tumbling onto the ground. Dream scrambled off his own swing, catching himself with his hands before hurrying over to Techno.

“Dude, are you okay?” he asked, shaking Techno’s shoulder.

“Yeah, but you’re shakin’ me,” Techno pointed out.

Dream stopped and pointed at Techno’s knee.

“You’re bleeding.”

Using his sleeve, Techno wiped the blood away. Already his scrapped knee was healing itself, skin knitting back together. A hint of panic rose in the back of his mind, knowing that the most important rule was never telling a human what he was but there was no fear present in Dream’s expression.

“Whoa…”

“Yeah, it’s kinda cool.” Techno grabbed Dream’s hand. His palm was also scrapped but he had no healing abilities. “That’s not so bad.”

Dream jerked his hand away and tugged his sleeves up over his hands.

“I’m fine. I’ve got hurt way worse. I even broke my arm once,” said Dream.

“How the heck did you do that?”

“I’m not supposed to tell anyone.”

Something about the way he said it made Techno feel sad but he didn’t know why, couldn’t understand the alarm bells that were ringing. After all, there were a lot of things Techno wasn’t supposed to tell people. He lowered his voice into a whisper.

“I’m not supposed to tell people that I can heal, either,” he said.

“Is it like, a really important secret?”

Techno nodded empathetically.

“I’d get in so much trouble.”

A solemn expression settled on Dream’s slightly grubby face.

“I won’t tell anyone, I swear. Cross my heart and hope to die.”  

“Okay.” Techno scooted closer and cupped his hand around Dream’s ear. “I’m a vampire.”

beautiful deception || one.

𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚍 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝: 3,589 𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜: language, minor mentions of bloodshed, brief mention of firearm-induced injury, minor descriptions of violence and pain. most chapters will have similar warnings since this is a gang au, so if you’re uncomfortable with that sort of material, i would suggest not reading. otherwise, welcome to the first official chapter! :)

𝐝𝐚𝐭𝐞: tuesday, september 2nd. 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞: 8:12 am. 𝐥𝐨𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧: downtown pyongston, korea.

—

At a glance, the Tuesday that changed your life started out as nothing more than an ordinary early autumn morning. The leaves were painted gold while they held on dearly to the trees, the birds were beginning to cross overhead towards warmer climates, and there was only a faint chill in the breeze when it swept gently through the streets. Everything was calm, and everything was familiar. Even your walk along the outskirts of downtown Pyongston was the same as it always was; you passed by the same houses and complexes as you'd passed the morning before, the scenery a constant on your way to the local college.

The only thing that was different on that fateful Tuesday morning was the bullet that ripped through your shoulder in the middle of a run-down convenience store.

Confused? Maybe it'd be best to start from the beginning.

You'd woken up that morning a little later than you would have liked, hitting snooze one too many times until you were rushing through your daily routine to keep from being late to your Tuesday lecture. You pulled on whatever presentable outfit you'd laid out for yourself the night before, your sweet little cat Tommy meowing in protest at not getting his morning cuddles; you pouted at him apologetically while you laced your shoes up, promising to give the calico extra cuddles when you came home from class tonight. He purred and wound himself around your legs as you hastily shoved your textbooks in your bag, glancing at your phone to keep an eye on the time.

You decided you were too behind schedule to make your usual breakfast now. You only had another 25 or so minutes to get onto campus, so you left without eating, planning to stop by the convenience store you always walked past and grab something quick to keep you from getting too hungry during class. Turning your key into the lock, you put your earbuds in and started the brisk walk to your college campus.

The morning was picturesque: birds called out pleasantly as they started their migrations down south, the trees that lined the sidewalk were splashed with color, and the few pedestrians you passed had a smile on their face, as if telling you that today was going to be a good day. Based on the pep in your step and the bright tune streaming from your headphones, you had a feeling it'd be a good one, too.

But you had no idea how wrong you'd be.

You picked up your pace when the large grocery store came into sight, stomach growling at the thought of snagging one of those delicious blueberry muffins you loved so much, and you waved at the only other morning walker on the path as they jogged past you. Looking back, it was a bit odd that there weren't as many people out and about as usual on the normally busy sidewalks downtown; but you paid it no mind. You quickly approached the store and paused your playlist as you swung the door open, expecting to be hit with the smell of baked goods and the chatter of customers.

Instead, you were met with silence. A silence so deafening for this part of the city that it left your ears ringing. Where was everybody?

It was weird; the eerie feeling that something wasn't right started to creep up on you, but again, you paid it no mind. Maybe it was a holiday and you'd simply forgotten? Or maybe there was some political campaign happening in the town square again, and everyone was just gathered there- you figured there was probably a perfectly reasonable explanation for the silence and the lack of people, so you shrugged it off and turned your song back on, searching the aisles for your favorite quick breakfast. Spotting the pre-packaged muffins, you grabbed two and headed for the self-checkout kiosk, not seeing anyone at the register.

It seemed to spool forever until the checkout page finally loaded. You scanned the items and grabbed your card while nodding your head to the music you were playing, swiping it and waiting for the transaction to go through. The screen blinked angrily at you, displaying an error and redo option. You pressed it and still, nothing happened. You jabbed at the screen a few more times, growing frustrated as it kept giving you error messages. "Why won't this thing work?" You said to yourself, sighing and taking your unpaid muffins up to the cashier's counter. But it was empty; there wasn't a single employee to be found in the entire place. You took out your earbuds and pocketed them, standing impatiently by the counter.

"Where did everyone go?" You wondered out loud. You were sure this was going to make you late for your lecture, but you needed to eat something. Your voice almost seemed to echo in the empty store, confirming that you were the only one there; or at least, that's what you thought.

Until a sharp, loud noise- scarily similar to fireworks- came from behind the door that said employees only, the sound nearly unmistakable though you'd never even heard it once before.

Your heart immediately clenched with fear. Pyongston was a generally safe town, and it was barely half past eight in the morning. Surely you couldn't have just heard a gunshot? But the anxiety that riddled your chest said otherwise. You stood paralyzed at the register, unable to move even though your mind screamed at you to drop the muffins and run, and that was when you heard it.

Voices.

Overlapping and angry, you could make out that there was shouting coming from the other side of the door. The muffins and your credit card fell to the ground as you quickly ducked behind the register, grabbing the largest object in your vicinity; oddly enough, it happened to be a metal crowbar, though you had no idea what it was doing in a convenience store. You wielded it with shaking hands, approaching the door with your heartbeat pounding in your ears.

You were almost to it when you heard another loud shout, this one from your back.

You turned around so fast you gave yourself whiplash, not bothering to stop the terrified scream from rising in your throat and you brandished the crowbar wildly. Three tall, intimidating men with masks over their faces were closing in on your position, each of them cocking guns your way. You felt your stomach sink in the cold realization that this was not going to be an ordinary Tuesday anymore: you were in very real and very immediate danger. Your self-defense classes never could have prepared you for this.

"Hey! Don't move another inch!" You shouted fiercely, waving the crowbar around in the air to discourage them from coming any closer. It worked, sort of; the men halted in their tracks and the one in the center removed his mask, revealing a man who looked to be about your age and who sported an extremely confused expression. You refused to lower your weapon.

"Who the hell are you?" He demanded, holding his gun back when you gave your crowbar another swipe in his direction. The other two with him also lowered their guns, but you were too afraid to drop your tool, not sure if they still posed a threat. Maybe they were undercover cops?

Your voice wavered with fear when you gave the man your name. "I'm Song Y/N, I go to the campus a few blocks away." You volunteered the information in case these guys were cops of some sort, just so they wouldn't get the wrong idea. The men holstered their guns entirely, and the maskless one raised his hands in a no-harm gesture.

"You mean you're a student there?" He asked, and you nodded vigorously. He ran a hand through his hair roughly, cursing out. "Shit, guys. She's a fucking civilian." The two men on either side groaned in unison, and you hesitantly let the crowbar drop a little. "Jaehyun's gonna have a field day with this one."

Before you could ask any more questions- namely what in the fuck was going on here - the deafening popping noises resounded from behind the door again, and the three men sprung into action. The maskless one motioned for his buddies to go towards it and he walked right up to you, grabbing your arm without giving you a chance to use your handy appliance on him. "Alright Y/N, here's what we're gonna do." He began instructing you as he led you towards that door. "We're gonna do our best to get you to safety as fast as we can, but you have to stick with us because the store's been surrounded. We have a getaway nearby but they can't reach us until the back rooms are cleared out, so you're gonna have to do exactly as I say. Can you do that?" Your crowbar clattered to the floor as they all brought out their guns again and aimed them at the employee entrance.

Your mind was a chaotic whirlwind of frenzied questions; but you bit them back and nodded, adrenaline rushing through you. "Okay," you said in a choked whisper, not trusting your voice when you were so full of terror. The boy seemed to soften a little and gave you what you thought might've been a reassuring look.

"I'm really sorry for what you're about to see." He warned as he took aim at the door. "Just stay behind me the whole time, and we'll get you out of here. I promise." You nodded again, and he called out a countdown until the three of them broke open the door and stepped inside.

Instantly you were met with a nightmarish scene: six men with red bandanas tied to their arms were in various stages of violence, and you had to stifle a scream when you realized that they were holding the store's owner- and all the clerks- at gunpoint while they ransacked the storage shelves.

The three without bandanas wasted no time in shooting at them, other masked men filing in from different parts of the room. Your hands flew up to cover your ears at the raging noise, cowering behind the boy who'd spoken to you about getting you to safety. You screwed your eyes shut, not wanting to witness the bloodshed, and only opened them when a pair of arms shook your shoulders after what felt like an eternity of gunfire and fighting. It was him.

"Y/N, Y/N! It's alright, you're okay!" He shouted, panicked at the sight of you in so much shock and fear. Your eyes glistened with tears and he tried to talk you out of your panic, grabbing your hands and leading you through the wreckage after the other masked men cleared the way. "Y/N, hey, just keep your eyes on me, okay?" He pleaded, not wanting you to see the gruesome image around the room. "Don't look anywhere else but me. I'll keep you safe, Y/N, don't worry. Just keep your eyes on me." His voice was calming, coaxing you to follow him as he backtracked the both of you out of the scene. You complied and held onto his hands for dear life as he led you away. You held back a gag when a distinct metallic scent invaded your nostrils, knowing without looking that it had to be blood.

You were sure the boy could see the fear in your eyes as he kept his own gaze trained steadily on you; you quickly observed that he was fairly attractive, with a strong jawline and shaggy black hair that hung low over his dark eyes. He was probably your age or barely a year older, as he still had that boyish look to him that you thought must make every girl that crosses his path swoon. You wondered if you would have been one of those girls, too, had you not met this handsome stranger in such a terrifying place.

He looked back over his shoulder before leading you out the back door, and you had to shield your eyes from the sudden onset of the mid-morning sunlight. "Okay, Y/N, we're out. You'll be alright now." He assured you, releasing your hands. You glanced around frantically, expecting to see more fighting, but the coast was seemingly clear. "Who were those guys?" The questions came pouring out of you before you could stop yourself. "Who are you? What the hell just happened here?"

The stranger shook his head as his lips pulled into a thin line. "I wish I could tell you," He said solemnly, "but it's best that you don't know. You never should have gotten mixed up in all this, Y/N. I could just kick myself for not clearing the area of all the civilians before we rushed in." His words only confused you further, with the way he kept referring to you as a civilian; as if he himself was not one. You allowed yourself another question as the boy directed you to the nearby parking garage, the surrounding town still eerily empty. Though you supposed that now you knew why.

"Are you an undercover cop?" You asked him. He immediately laughed, the hearty sound ringing out through the deserted street. Your cheeks grew warm with embarrassment and you suddenly felt silly for asking that. "No, no, I'm not a cop. Although that would make things a lot easier," He said. "The cops don't really like me, or any of my friends, but they don't realize how much work we're doing for them. For this whole town, actually." You cocked your head, hoping he'd say more if only to quell the crazy thoughts racing in your mind. He took in your confused expression and chuckled lightly.

"Let's just say I'm a crime-fighter," He explained shortly. "Me and my friends take out the bad guys." Now it was your turn to laugh, though it came out sounding strangled due to your lingering fear. "So you're a super hero, then?" Your question was rewarded with a bright smile, briefly stunning you as it lit up his face. "Sure, let's go with that."

He motioned for you to turn a corner as you walked; but without warning he winced sharply with pain, and it was only then that you noticed the deep, angry gash running along the side of his neck. "You're hurt!" You exclaimed, pointing to the wound. The boy moved to cover it with his hand, but you quickly swatted them away from the injury, scolding him. "Don't touch it, you might get it infected and then it'll take longer to heal. It's deep enough that you'll probably need stitches as it is." You told him matter-of-factly. He raised an eyebrow, lowering his hand.

"Are you a doctor, Y/N?" He asked teasingly, but the mood dropped when you nodded, telling him that your major was, in fact, studying medicine. You didn't mention how you'd dreamt of being a doctor since you were a little kid. "I'm working on my master's for it." You said simply. You bit your lip before debating whether to continue, deciding the wound looked bad enough to warrant a little help. "I can patch that up for you, if you want." You offered. You always carried emergency first aid with you, and what was one missed lecture anyways if it could save this nice stranger a trip to the hospital? He had quite possibly saved your life back there in the store; you felt the need to repay him somehow.

He looked wary of the suggestion, but after a moment of contemplation, he gave in and sighed a quiet yes. "We don't have much time though," He warned, "the other guys might come back, and we don't wanna be anywhere near here when they do."

You nodded again. "Don't worry, I'll be quick." You hastily shrugged your forgotten backpack off your shoulders and knelt on the pavement, gesturing for him to sit while you combed through the bag to find the kit you needed. You wasted no time in preparing the things you'd need to give him stitches, laying the objects out on top of your bag before readying the disinfectant. You tilted his head to the side to give you better access, and before you could second guess yourself, you were pressing the liquid-soaked cotton to his neck.

He inhaled sharply and balled his hands into fists, and you apologized profusely for the pain. "I'm really sorry, I just have to clean the area first before I stitch it up. This is the worst of it, I promise." You hated how his knuckles turned white when you applied more pressure to the injury; but it had to be done.

He said nothing while you worked, an uncomfortable silence falling over you once you finished giving him his stitches. You had so many things you wanted to ask him, but he'd made it clear that he couldn't give you any answers; so you only let yourself ask one more question, allowing the words to slip out when you handed him some gauze to cover the wound. "What's your name?"

He stayed deadly quiet even after you both stood up. You collected your backpack off the ground and clutched it to your chest, taking a sudden interest in your shoes. The tips of your ears were burning with embarrassment. Why would he tell you his name in the first place? You were probably never going to see him again, anyways. Maybe it was best if you didn't-

A single shot rang out in the once abandoned street.

Instantly, your left arm bloomed with pain, a pain more intense than anything you've ever known before. You cried out and dropped your bag, falling against the boy as you cradled your arm gingerly. Tears made their way down your face and you looked at your arm, feeling dizzy when you spotted the mess of blood and tattered fabric between your shoulder and elbow. The boy grabbed on to your other side and held you to keep from swaying, panic evident in his eyes as black dots started to cloud your peripheral vision.

"Y/N! Oh my god, Y/N, stay with me!" He shouted, alarmed by the rate at which your eyes were blinking rapidly, watching your face begin to go slack. "Hey hey hey, don't close your eyes! Stay with me, Y/N!" He pleaded with you; but the world was steadily becoming more and more blurry. Your head felt like it was stuffed with cotton, muffling everything around you as the boy's frantic pleas to stay with him faded into the background of your mind. You felt yourself losing control, but you couldn't fight back, your muscles no longer able to hold yourself up at the searing pain that was already consuming your consciousness.

The stranger let out a shout for help when your body went stiff and leaned fully against him, your eyes closing slowly. The black dots shifted into huge clouds and your mind went silent as you fell unconscious into his waiting arms.

He didn't waste a single second in scooping you up and calling for his team, running towards the sound of men shouting his name. All he could see was the road in front of him, feeling like he was running in slow-motion once the final corner come into view, darting wildly into the street in his desperate effort to save you.

You were light in his hold as the boy sprinted to the getaway location, knowing Haechan was waiting there to whisk everyone to safety as he spotted Yuta waving him over hurriedly from the van. He ignored the burning in his legs as he ran the last few yards, not stopping to catch his breath until you were buckled into one of the seats and the van was taking off. You stayed unconscious as the men stared incredulously between you and the boy, the silence growing all too loud until he broke it with a panicked shout. "Someone call Jaehee to the base, now!"

Johnny complied from the front seat and grabbed the team's only mobile phone in the center console, dialing in a number he knew by heart and raising the phone to his ear.

It rang twice before the line picked up. "Hello?"

Johnny sighed in relief at hearing the familiar voice on the other side. "Jaehee, it's Johnny." He said in a rush, "We need a unit to come to the base ASAP. How fast can you get here?"

Your arm was lifted up by the boy in the backseat where you were strapped in, taking it into his lap and pressing the gauze you'd given him for his neck over your bullet wound while Johnny kept talking up front. He found himself wishing you would wake up, oblivious to the curious looks from the team as he gently brushed your hair out of your face, feeling strangely disappointed when your eyes stayed closed shut.

Johnny hung up and turned to him, giving him a reassuring grin as the getaway car sped furiously towards the underground hideout. The van fell quiet as he waited with baited breath to hear whether they could get you the help you needed.

Johnny nodded softly. "They're on the way, Mark. She's gonna be okay."

Mark Lee gave one last look at you slumped over in your seat, your injured arm still in his lap, cursing himself for not telling you his name.

Build a blurb request with tommy/ofc (or reader!) I love reading these!

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Also am addicted to accessory to matrimony!!

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thank you so much for the request anon!! and i'm happy you liked accessory <3

build a blurb asks

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pairing: tommy x fem! reader

“Word on the street is that a certain Ada Shelby’s gotten knocked up.” You spoke, leaning against the doorframe. Despite it being your house, Tommy had breezed past you in his usual dismissive way as soon as you’d opened the front door, and was now rifling through your kitchen with a desperation that amused you.

“Whose word, which street?” He grumbled, scanning the pantry as his brow furrowed. “Where’s your whiskey?”

“Polly, Watery Lane. Perhaps you’re familiar.” You lit a cigarette before tossing your case to him, watching as he caught it absent-mindedly. “That cupboard, top shelf. High up, to prevent men who barge into my house from stealing it so easily. Need a light, Tom?” You tapped the pack of matches against your thigh, the matchsticks clacking in time with Tommy’s quick footsteps as he moved to the cupboard, flinging it open.

“I need to lie down. This Ada business is doing my head in.” He marched toward your bedroom, you trailing behind him. You’d been friends for ages and he knew the layout of your tiny flat like the back of his hands. “The bed’s more comfortable, anyhow. That sofa of yours is hard as rocks.”

He plopped down, propping his legs up. You glared at him and he rolled his eyes, kicking his shoes off before returning his feet to the comforter, earning a smile from you.

“Good boy.” You quipped, sitting down next to him. “You could always buy me a new sofa. I think I’ll hold you to that.”

“Don’t. I've got enough on my hands.” He groaned, slumping down into the mattress and closing his eyes, balancing the glass on his chest.

“Alright then, who’s the father? And don’t put your glass there, you’ll spill whiskey on my duvet.”

“If it spills, I’ll wash it.” He replied.

“It’s sickening how easily you lie to me, even after all our years of friendship.” You sighed as he opened an eye to peer at you.

“If you’re gonna be sick don’t do it on the duvet, I’ll be the one who has to wash it out.”

You snatched the glass away from him, slamming it on your bedside table. “Quit stalling! Who’s the father?”

“Freddie Thorne.” He grumbled, words laced with venom.

“Ah. I can’t blame her. Freddie was always quite the charmer.” You snorted. Tommy scoffed into his glass. “Laugh all you want, but everyone in my year at school fancied Freddie. I had a little crush on him too-” Tommy choked on his drink, spluttering as he snapped his head up to stare at you, horrified. “God, you’re so dramatic!” You threw your head back in laughter. “I thought it would’ve been obvious! I remember hardly being able to look him in the eye when you used to invite him over. He was just this sort of… handsome, older boy.” His mouth hung agape as you mused. “Well, none of that matters now. Don’t be upset, Tommy. Freddie’s good. He’ll take care of Ada. A new baby in the family would be nice! Kids aren’t complete terrors.”

“They are. I was a kid once, I remember.” He spat.

“You were a definite worst-case scenario.” You smirked. The two of you fell into a comfortable silence, punctuated only by the sloshing of your drinks as you sipped on them, the smoke from your cigarettes clouding the air.

“I just…really, (Y/N)? A crush on Freddie?” His voice cut through the quiet, sounding completely mystified at the idea. “Charming? A ‘handsome, older boy’?” He bit out each word as if using them in association with Freddie was completely unheard of. You giggled, shaking your head at his immaturity.

He hesitated. “What, like… more charming and handsome than I was?”

Your eyes widened as you clapped your hand over your mouth. “Oh my God. You’re jealous, aren’t you?” You dissolved into laughter, wagging a finger in his face. “You are so childish! It was years ago, a little infatuation, and you’re jealous!” You sang, mocking him.

“Answer the question, (Y/N).” He breathed, his lips twitching into a small smile that he hid behind his glass as he took a swig of his drink.

“Since you insist.” You sighed, leaning back on your hands. “He couldn’t beat you in those categories.” You mumbled in admission, landing a smack on his arm as he smiled smugly. “Honestly, I got over Freddie quickly enough. I think I was distracting myself. I was always interested in… someone else.” You bit your lip, eyes darting away from him as you felt a blush spread over your cheeks. You chided yourself, stopping yourself from saying too much.

“...Yeah?” He spoke.

“Yeah.” You fidgeted, averting your eyes away even as you felt his gaze burn into your skull.

“I was interested in someone when we were younger, too. But it might not have worked out between us back then. I just found out she was very much preoccupied with Freddie Thorne.” He muttered, and you couldn’t help but smile as you felt the mattress sink as he moved closer to you.

“I think she would’ve chosen you over Freddie any day. D’you think it would work out now?”

“I don’t see why not.” He had inched even closer, and you felt the warmth of his presence as you sat side-by-side. “I’ve always thought she was charming. Handsome, too.” He said, tucking some stray hairs behind your ear.

“More than Freddie?” You joked.

“More than Freddie. But enough about him. It’s ruining the moment.”

You grinned, turning to look at him. “So it turns out we both like each other, Tommy. And it seems to be more than a… little infatuation. What shall we do about that?”

He paused, contemplating. “Well, after I murder Freddie-”

“Don’t ruin the moment.”

“After I murder a certain unnamed man…” His lips twisted into a rare smile as he wrapped his arms around you. “I’ll take you out to dinner. Make you my woman. Buy a bottle of champagne to celebrate, one that you will not keep on the top shelf, for my easy access. Buy you a new sofa, if I’m feeling generous-”

“Sounds nice in theory, but after years of pining after you I wish you’d put it more… romantically.” You laughed.

He cupped your jaw, looking into your eyes as his nose grazed yours. He pulled you toward him, pressing his lips to yours in a gentle kiss.

“That romantic enough?” He asked as you broke away.

“I’m not sure. Give me one more, that’ll help me decide.” You smiled, wrapping your arms around him as you pulled him in for another kiss.

Promotion

Thomas Shelby x Reader

Requested: Yes; I lost the original request, sorry :(

Warnings: Swear Words

Word Count: 1.3k

A/N: Sorry about the repost, for some reason the old version got deleted so I’m reposting it :) I tried to make the reader badass but like I don’t know how to do that so I guessed. I hope you guys love this!!

Summary: The reader storms into the Garrison which pisses off Tommy, but when he sees what has gotten you so angry and watches your response, he can’t help but be impressed.

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The Garrison seemed to be the hub of all the Peaky Blinders and the people that wanted to meet with them. People were walking in with friends on their arms and out stumbling, drunkenly walking their newfound date to the closes private space they could find. And in the midst of all that celebration, you had walked in with the biggest scowl on your face- a contrast that Tommy easily picked up on from where he was leaning against the countertop of the bar. “What’s got ya so pissed, love?” he asked you, sipping on his whiskey. You sighed. “Nothing,” you grumbled, signaling to Grace that you wanted a glass of whiskey. “Yet,” you said under your breath. Tommy caught that whisper but ignored it, opting to take another swing of his drink. He had noticed every time you walked into the Garrison, you walked in with a sour face instead of your usual bright one. It bothered him that you didn’t smile as much anymore when you were there, but Tom was never a man good with words. So he simply let you stew in your anger, but made sure to brush your hand every now and then to remind you that he was there if you wanted to rant. He might not be able to talk, but he could listen. “Why hello there, love!” you and Tommy heard a deep, baritone voice say from behind you. Turning around, you saw a man with crooked teeth smiling abashedly at you, his eyes lingering on your chest too long for it to be a casual observation. Your nose scrunched up from the smell of alcohol reeking in his breath. “What the hell do you want, Trevor?” Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Tommy’s eyebrows raise slightly in shock, but when you noted his slight scowl you knew he was irritated. You resisted the urge to roll your eyes. Trevor held his hands up in mock surrender. “Just askin’ how you’ve been after all these years, love, nothing more. Certainly nothin’ to get all feisty over.” You grit your teeth before smiling at him cockily. “Yeah, now that you’ve done that, can you fuck off?” You added a bit of politeness into your voice- just enough to patronize him. “Hey,” you heard Tommy say. “Calm down, will you love? I don’t need another bar fight on my hands.” His voice was laced with frustration and anger, although his face stayed neutral. The normal glint that was housed in his eyes disappeared, replaced by indifference. It was almost like the deep ocean of his blue eyes froze over into ice. You smiled at him the same way you smiled at Trevor: with a hint of condescension. Honestly, it was a miracle that Tom didn’t shoot a bullet in between your brows at your expression. “Why don’t you stay out of things that aren’t your fucking business, Tom?” Tom clenched his jaw before turning back to his whiskey. “If it’s under me bar’s roof, it’s me fuckin’ business, love.” Trevor chuckled, causing both you and Tommy’s heads to snap towards him. “You let him call you love? What are you, his whore?” You bit your lip out of anger so hard it drew blood, the tang of copper running over your tongue. You tried to focus on the taste in an effort to not cause a scene; if you did cause a bar fight, you’d have to deal with an angry Thomas Michael Shelby, which was much worse than what you were dealing with right now. “Look, Trevor, what do you want?” You arched your eyebrow. Trevor shrugged. “Just wanted to see ya, I swear-” “You never talk to me unless you want something from me, so how about you just tell me and I can be on my merry way?” Trevor’s eyes darkness slightly, his usual energetic (and annoying) bravado slipping slightly. “I need some money.” You couldn’t help the laugh that escaped your lips. “What? So you can go and spend it on more drugs and tequila? No fucking way.” Trevor’s lip curled slightly, and you noticed his fingers twitched as if wanting to curl up into fists. “Don’t fucking humiliate me in front of Mr. Shelby!” Another laugh tumbled out of you, this one full of much more bitterness than the last. “Why? You saw no problem humiliating me in front of my father? Consider us even on that front, Trevor.” Tommy choked on his whiskey slightly, now

understanding why you were being so hostile and angry whenever Trevor was in the Garrison. You had run away from London after a man there- Trevor, apparently- had started the rumor that you recently had an attempted abortion that didn’t work, leaving you pregnant. Although you were only 19 at the time, you weren’t an idiot and eventually understood that he was making you unmarriable to everyone except him. He couldn’t raise his status, so he lowered yours. He would marry you, thereby securing all the riches your family had for himself. Thomas cleared his throat. “I think you need to leave.” His words implied that Trevor had a choice, but his deep and firm voice communicated what his words didn’t: if Trevor didn’t leave of his own free will, he’d be dragged out against it. Trevor gulped. “Please, love-” You shook your head no. “I gave you money that last time, Trevor. ‘S not my fault you can’t budget for shit. So if you want money, get a fucking job.” “If you give me money, I’ll go back to your dad and tell him I lied. I swear, love, I will just please!” Trevor practically begged, a tear slipping out the corner of his eyes. You took in a deep breath, placing your hand on top of Thomas’s when he made a move to get up. “Look, Trevor, I don’t want a fucking apology. I don’t want you to tell my father that you were lying. I want you to leave me the fuck alone.” You stepped closer to Trevor, letting your hand fall off the counter. “If I see you ever again,” you said threateningly, letting your breath fan out over his face, “You’ll only have one good leg.” You turned around and fidgeted with your now empty whiskey glass, tilting and watching the sunlight hit the glass. “If you want money, get a job. You’re smart enough to find you, I’m sure. If you were smart enough to manipulate my family, I’m sure you can get a fucking job.” You picked up Tom’s whiskey glass and downed it in one gulp. “Fuck off, Trevor. And remember my threat, because I will follow up on it. Starting in ten seconds.” You didn’t see Trevor run across and away from the Garrison, but you heard the quick clicks of his shoes against the wood. Turning around after ten seconds, you were pleased to find him gone. Thomas cleared his throat and turned to you. He eyed his whiskey glass that still rested in your hand but made no comment. “This is going to sound really fuckin’ creepy,” he began, “but that was the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen.” You chuckled and then groaned. “I fucking hate that guy.” “I can tell.” You hummed. “Still pissed at me for how I talked to him? Or are we good?” Tom turned back to the bar, asking Grace to refill both of your glasses. “I want to give you a promotion, love. Your potential’s wasted as a secretary.” You sipped at your now refilled whiskey. “Hmm, wouldn’t people think I fucked my way to the top?” “If you’d scare them off like you did Trevor,” Thomas pointed out, “I don’t think a single person would voice their doubts.” You nodded. “Then I accept, Tom.” Thomas grinned and extended his hand. “You’re now Y/N Shelby, my second in command.” You laughed and shook his hand. “If screaming at Trevor was all it took to impress you,” you teased, “I would have hunted him down a year ago.” Tom sipped at his whiskey and chuckled. “You about done with that drink, love? I was thinking we could celebrate your promotion,” he said suggestively, winking at you when you side glanced at him. You felt hot, a slight blush making its way on your face. “What are we waiting for then?”

Bravado // Tommy Shelby Imagine

(A/N - its been a long ass time and i wanted to ease myself back into writing but this ended up being long and also super super angsty. sorry that this illness imagine came during covid idk whats going on with my imagination lol. love you guys SO much thank you for always being there. reblogs, comments and likes mean everything to me.)

trigger warnings - LOTS of angst. fluff. implied smut. my hc that tommy has a fear of illness, bad descriptions of hospitals. 

He knew something wasn’t right the minute his car pulled into the driveway and you weren’t waiting for him under the great concrete arch, with that smile on your face that made his knees buckle and heart race like he was a love struck teenager.

You were always there as soon as he came home. Barefoot in a broderie dress in the summer with tousled hair and baby pink toenails. Wrapped in a hand knit blanket with fire flushed cheeks and woollen socks in the winter - even running across the gravel and into his arms in the middle of a storm, the ice cold rain whipping across both of your faces as you kissed under the light of the moon.

No matter how shit his day or week or month was, no matter what stained his hands or darkened his heart, no matter what lay heavy and hard deep in his gut, seeing you made everything vanish in the night air like wisps of smoke. You made everything worth it.

He refused to give into fear, he wasn’t that kind of man, so he swallowed all of the nagging thoughts and apprehensions as he came up to the dark foggy windows and the iron cast door. It felt strange turning his key in the lock without the weight of you in his arms or the sticky peach kisses you left down his jaw and neck, the smell of the vanilla in your hair and lavender on your skin.

The second thing that sent a jolt of white hot electricity down his spine was Mary, watching him anxiously and wringing her hands in the hallway. Usually, she was calm and collected, taking his jacket and leather travel bag with her signature placid smile and gentle fingers. Usually she would return to the kitchen and finish up whatever she was making - a hearty roast lamb with rosemary and garlic and glazed potatoes or a pheasant pie with honeyed carrots, always followed by a three layer chocolate ganache cake that was so thick and rich you practically had to saw through the sponge. She would always have dinner piping hot and dripping with gravy by the time the two of you returned downstairs, no matter how many hours it took for you to get... reacquainted.

Now she looked sheepish and pale, her skin almost translucent under the syrupy yellow lights. There was something about the way she stood, as still as a wraith, that made his blood run cold.

“Mary. Where is she?”

“Mr Shelby, I - ” Her voice was strained and hesitant, like a slowly fraying rope.

“Where is my wife?”

She moved forward, creases forming around her eyes. “We tried ringing you in Liverpool but the hotel said that you had already left, so we...”

“You rang me? Why? What’s happened?” He couldn’t hold back the desperation in his voice, and it lingered and festered around them both like a poisonous gas.

“Mrs Shelby came down with something a few days ago, we thought that it was just a common cold but unfortunately she seems to be getting worse.”

He tore upstairs before he could even think, his shoes leaving perfect muddy footprints on the cream carpet. He almost slipped at the top, and he lurched forward, his hands reaching out and holding onto the portrait hanging above the stairs for stability.

It was the oil of the two of you. A soft, personal picture that revealed more than he ever possibly could. The love in your gazes, the hint of a soft, drunk smile on the dangerous gangsters face as you leaned into him, melting into him like butter, him holding onto you as though he couldn’t bear to let you go. It was his favourite photo, one that always washed a sense of calmness over him, a reminder of the woman that he loved and the way he felt around you. But now he felt as if was riding out a terrible storm.

He lived his life with no fear, he was capable and practical and used to the sound of bullets and the copper sweet smell of blood. There was really only one thing, one terrible thing that he couldn’t control, and that was what drove him crazy.

Sickness.

It gnawed at his insides like a rabid dog, clawed under his skin and settled behind his ribs. Losing someone he loved was like ripping out a piece of his heart straight from his chest, and he knew better than anyone what it was like to lose somebody to a violent, quick death - the pull of a trigger or the smack of a fist. At least in those moments he could lock them away in his mind, he could leap in front of a bullet or crack the neck of any man who dared to get too close to you, but there was almost nothing he could do to stop sickness, and the devastation it caused.

When you first met him it had been a surprise, almost amusing, that this powerful God of a man had these small little quirks. His house was always sparkling clean and smelling of Lysol, his fruit bowls were filled with citrus fruits and round, plump blueberries. He always made sure you were wrapped up warm in the winter, always placing his coat around your shoulders and bringing an extra pair of gloves in case you forgot yours. It was adorable, the way he took care of you,

It wasn’t till a little bit later when you learnt of those he had lost. His mother and his childhood sweetheart taken away from him much too soon. It broke your heart when he told you late one night of the sallow tint of their skin and the way he could almost see them vanishing from earth, the way that illness had moulded and changed those he loved the most.

You understood.

Your best friends older sister had died of tuberculosis when you were young. The elderly woman across the street from your first flat had passed away from a bout of horrendous smallpox. Your brother lost his first child to pneumonia. Times were changing but the fear of disease was ever present. Medicine was improving and so was knowledge, but still there remained a huge, dark cloud of what could happen, one that always hung around your husbands head.

——————————————-

All Tommy could think was the worst as he ran through the landing. His heart was in his ears and his bones felt loose, like the sweet liquorice the two of you would share at the pictures. He came to a stop by the bedroom door, tentatively pressing his palm onto the wood and ever so slightly pushing it open, listening to the gentle creak it made.

The room was warm. The lace curtains were pulled shut, and your favourite lavender candles were flickering on your vanity, casting syrupy shadows against the wall. He exhaled loudly as he saw you, bundled up under a mountain of satin sheets and hand crocheted blankets, your hair splayed across the pillows.

He moved to your bedside, pretending not to notice the large, untouched jug of water and the tissue box next to you, hoping and silently praying that you weren’t sick - just asleep and waiting for him, ready to wrap your arms around his neck.

You were silent, your lips parting every so often as you breathed, your chest rising and falling. He reached out gently, as though he was picking up shards of glass, and brushed his fingers against your cheek. Your forehead was beading with sweat, your cheeks flushed, and yet your skin was ice cold to the touch. He recoiled quickly, his heart dropping like a weight into his gut, and he inhaled a shaky, deep breath.

He saw something curled up beside your hands, a fluffy white cloud with sparkling emerald green eyes trained on him. Despite everything, he smiled. He thought of your birthday - of strawberry cheesecake and champagne, and surprising you with a ribbon wrapped little kitten as you woke up. He thought of that day often. How you smiled and leapt onto him with tears in your eyes, his whole world blissfully quiet as he spent the day in bed with you and your new best friend.

He would have preferred a big dog, one with sharp teeth and a menacing gaze to ward of visitors whilst he was away. But you were drawn to the tiny, malnourished runt of the litter who was scared of his own shadow. A kitten no bigger than the size of his clenched fist. A little white hairball who only ate and drank from fine pink saucers. A cat that had a very frustrating habit of crawling in the bedroom right as Tommy’s hand was up your skirt and his lips on the sweet spot of your neck, the tiny thing mewling and crying until you picked him up and nuzzled him into your chest.

He was a horse lover through and through, and never saw himself having time for any other pets. But in the summer when you saw the litter from one of John’s barn cats and fell in love with the sweet baby who mewled and cried and crawled right into your lap - he knew that he would give you anything and everything you wanted.

Including a cat who refused to accept that Tommy was the man of the house.

“Hello, boy.” He said, leaning over to scratch Comet under the chin, using a voice he only reserved for the two of you. “Have you been looking after my girl whilst I’ve been gone?”The cat meowed loudly in reply, pressing his head into Tommy’s palm but not moving from his spot beside you.

Tommy suddenly felt you shift under him and his heart lurched into his throat. He turned to face you, cupping the side of your clammy face as your eyelids fluttered open, blinking under the candlelight. A rush of red hot heat built up in his belly as you registered him, that angelic smile growing on your face, your tired eyes glimmering with recognition of the man you loved.

“Tommy?”

“Hi, Princess.”

You smiled sadly. “You’ve been gone for weeks - I missed you.”

He felt his brows crease as he rubbed along your jawline softly, trying to stop you from falling back asleep. He felt panic in his throat as sour as vomit, and he tried to bite back the nagging feeling that something was very wrong.

“No, sweetheart, I’m early. It’s only Thursday. I left on Monday.”

“Oh.” You said softly, your voice as gentle as the breeze rustling through the trees outside. “Well let me welcome you back properly - let me make you a lemon drizzle or a...” You lifted your head from the pillow and shuffled under your blanket, but he pressed his hands against your shoulder and held you down.

“No. You’re staying right here.”

“But - ”

“No.”

“Hmm. Don’t leave me, Tommy.”

“Never.” He said, his tone firm and cast like stone. He stroked your hair softly as your breathing slowed, but it didn’t nothing to quell the hard thump of his heart in his chest.

——————————-

Tommy left the room as quietly as he could after you had fallen asleep in his arms. He hadn’t wanted to move, not when you were pressed against his chest, looking ethereal but vacant, sweat beading under your brow and your face lacking colour. He wanted to stay with you, curled up by his side, his fingers laced through yours, the sound of your heart thumping in his ears.

But he was a man of action, and seeing you there - your lips cracked and dry, shudders passing through your body and goosebumps raised over your skin - he couldn’t fight the fiery urge to do everything in his power to make you feel alright again.

He found Mary waiting outside the door, chewing on the skin of her lips and swaying on the balls of her feet in anticipation. He grabbed her by the arm, harder than he meant to and something he would apologise for later, and pulled her downstairs, determined to let you rest whilst he got some answers. As soon as they reached the drawing room he spun her around, clenching his jaw and pointing a finger at the anxious maid.

“Where the fuck is the doctor? Why isn’t he here?”

“Mr Shelby.” She said, stepping forward calmly. “We phoned Doctor Moore and he came on Tuesday to see her.”

“Tuesday?” He seethed. “My wife has been ill since Tuesday and no one called me?”

Mary raised her hands in defeat, making it clear that the decision wasn’t hers to make. “He said it was nothing of concern . He gave her some antibiotics and told her to rest. She asked us herself not to call you, she knows how you.. worry.”

He ignored her sugar coated attempt to quell his anger, but if anything it made his vision darken. “When it’s my wife, It is always my concern.”

“Mr Shelby, we were just doing what we were told. As soon as we noticed she wasn’t getting better we phoned the surgery again, but Doctor Thomas was out for the day and said he didn’t think it was necessary to come round again, so we -”

“I don’t give a fuck. My wife is the number one priority. Ring every doctor in England if you have to, get somebody out here now to see my wife.”

He stormed away, anger pulsating through his veins, but he stopped suddenly, and threw out over his shoulder:

“And call Doctor Moore’s ’office. Tell him to expect a visit from the blinders soon.”

———————————————————

Once, when you were first dating, you found Tommy at the door to your flat at midnight, with scraped knuckles and blood dripping from his nose. You let him in, cleaned him up and sat with him in the bath until his skin was clear and his breathing was even. He knew that night, as you were pressed against his chest and his lips were pressed to your scalp that he was truly, madly and completely in love with you.

He remembered waking up the next morning, love drunk and blissful, and finding the bed beside him empty. He found you in the kitchen, wincing slightly and pressing a hot water bottle to your belly as you buttered a few pieces of toast. He rushed to your side with eyes as wide as saucers, concern lacing the features that were usually ice cold and hard as stone. You were completely baffled as he held you at arms length, his bright cerulean eyes trailing up and down your body for any signs of injury he might have missed. You were bewildered at the sight of the powerful man practically on his knees as he made sure you were alright, and you bit back a giggle as his warm palms spread over your abdomen.

“What is it? Whats wrong?”

“Tommy. Sweetheart.” You said softly, bringing his gaze level to yours. “It’s just - you know - that time of the month.”

He brushed off your embarrassment and ran his fingers through your hair, pressing a uncharacteristically gentle kiss to your forehead, sending a swarm of butterflies around the pain in your stomach.

“Do you need anything?” He asked, half ready to run down to the corner shop and buy any amount of painkillers or chocolate bars or your favourite lavender tea that you might need; not caring who saw the seemingly terrifying gang leader in the street with an armful of strawberry laces and salt water fudges.

You smiled like the summer sun and he melted, pulling you close as you whispered in the shell of his ear that you only needed him, and that was all you ever needed.

That was the first time you fully saw the extent of Tommy’s fear, but it definitely wasn’t the last. He knew he wanted you forever and always, and it took only six months of neck kisses and pillow talk, red hot jealousy and possessive hands across your skin and dancing in the rain and falling asleep under the pale yellow moon for him to put a ring on your finger. You were both consumed by your love, as though it was the only thing that mattered, it was insatiable and powerful - the wonderful mix of the devil and his sweet little angel.

And with that, came the good and the bad.

Like when you got food poisoning after Arthur cooked you a Sunday lunch to cheer you up whilst Tommy was gone. He came home to you retching over the toilet bowl with Mary holding back your hair, and swore that he would kill his brother with his own hands. Or when you slipped on ice and broke your arm while out with friends in London, and Tommy went ballistic and tried to ban you from ever leaving the house. It was just in his nature, how he always made sure you walked on the side furthest from the road, kept an arm slung around you whenever you were together, kept his eyes alert and vigilant no matter where you were - always looking out for his girl.

But he had never been like this.

———————————————————-

You were falling in and out of sleep. Waking up drowsy and heavy headed, squinting under bright lights, an ache in your skull and a burning in your throat. Every so often you felt a pinch in your upper arm, a squeeze on your palm, a kiss on your forehead - but you always drifted back into unconsciousness.

You weren’t sure how much time had passed when you woke up. The room was dark and you could hear the wind howling and whipping rain across the windows. You felt all too hot and all too cold at the same time, and the bed was damp with sweat. You struggled and tried to sit up, your head swaying and feeling as heavy as one of Tommy’s marble statues; as if you had been carved up and moulded. You could hear voices out in the hall, and unsteadily got to your feet, moving towards the noises.

“Pneumonia?” You heard through the thick wooden door, instantly recognising your husbands voice. “That’s impossible.”

“Sir...”

“Fucking. Impossible.” You knew his teeth were clenched.

The other man cleared his throat.“I know that it’s hard to hear, Mr Shelby, but your wife is very sick.”

“Just...” You felt your heart flutter and clench in your chest as the sound of his broken words, could practically feel his desperation and you wanted nothing more than to hold him. “Just tell me how to make her better.”

The second man spoke again, his voice softening and lowering, something you knew Tommy would hate. “Mr Shelby, the first round of antibiotics didn’t work and that means that it’s time for something stronger. Usually I would suggest the Birmingham hospital but I don’t think it’s equipped for...” He paused, trying to think over his words carefully. He wanted to convey the severity of the situation but also didn’t want to risk getting a bullet in his head from your very protective husband. “...This kind of reaction. I recommend we send her down to London for extra testing.”

“London? That’ll take two fucking hours. How the fuck can you recommend letting my wife travel that far? Are you out of your fucking mind?”

“I’m my opinion this is the wisest choice to make, but unfortunately that could mean your wife might get worse before she gets better.”

“Worse than she already is? That’s not an option.”

The man you assumed was the doctor was insistent, trying his best to portray the severity of the situation but failing as your hardheaded husband had already come to a decision.

“I’ll look after her here. She’s safest with me.”

Once Tommy had spoken that was the final result, and the doctor slinked away into the darkness and shook his head. You remained peering from behind the door, your tongue between your teeth and your heart hammering.

Tommy took one look at you and frowned, scooping you in his arms like a baby despite your protests. He ignored you, acting playfully and cheerful but you could feel his heated skin and the see flare of his nostrils. You wanted to help him but didn’t know how, and let him tuck you under the covers once again. He kissed your crown and stroked your hair and you wanted to speak but no words would leave your mouth.

“You stay there this time. You know I have no problem with tying you to the bed.”

You rolled your eyes as he left, and his clenched fists and tightened shoulders told you all you needed to know.

————————————————-

Comet watched from his spot beside you as Tommy wrestled with the fire. He had noticed you shivering despite your high temperature, and bundled you up in blankets whilst sparking matches beside the fireplace. There were raindrops across his shoulders, evidence that he had been outside and to the log store right at the end of the property - a job that had always been for the Groundskeeper. Your precious cat nudged the tips of your fingers as you sighed and watched your husband throw kindling onto the coal, a deep unease settling over your gut.

“Tommy, my love, I’m fine.” It wasn’t exactly true but you felt he needed to hear it. But you could practically see your words wash over him and evaporate like ocean spray.

He was shaking a metal tin in his palm as he worked, and you groaned and let your head hit the pillow as he pulled out two round chalky tablets. You winced as he placed them beside your glass, your mouth already tasting like the sour talc medicine you had come to loathe. He raised his eyebrows and shot you a look that told you he wasn’t far off plugging your nose with his fingers to force you to swallow, and you childishly stuck up two fingers as you took them.

Your stomach rumbled with nausea and you bit back the bile in your throat as you settled into the pillows. You watched your husband as he pulled off his crisp white shirt, revealing his taut tan stomach and the deep ink tattoos that you loved to trace with your fingertips and your lips. There was something about him standing there, with those damn cerulean eyes and hidden muscles, that boyish hair and slender fingers that you wanted desperately around your throat, that made a million tiny fireworks spark inside of you.

But instead you pushed him away from you despite your body wanting nothing but him wrapped all around you. “Don’t get too close. I might have something contagious. I can’t have you getting sick.”

He ignored you, smiling inwardly at the way you always put others before yourself. It was one of the million reasons he had fallen for you. You were sweating out a high fever and shivering in pain, and yet you always thought of him first. He pressed his lips to your temple and pulled you closer, knowing that skin to skin was a way to bring down a fever - even if it meant he had to restrain himself from tugging off your pretty little white nightgown and whatever frilly things you had on underneath.

“I’m not going anywhere. Fuck it if I catch anything.”

“That’s easy for you to say. I’m the one who will have to dote on you hand and foot, you big baby.” You teased, pressing yourself into him playfully, finally giving in.

He held you like a child, trying to hard to soften despite the way you felt underneath him. Everything on him was running a mile a minute, and he couldn’t help but want to try everything and everything to make you feel better. His hand was pressed against your temple to always try and measure your fever, his other palm across your chest to try and count your heart rate.

He could hear Mary treading across the landing carpet but he ignored his anxious maid, instead letting himself be completely consumed by the only thing that mattered - you.

This was something he had to do by himself. He was the only one who could care for you he reminded himself. And he let the words tumble over and over in his skull until they were all he could hear.

—————————————————————-

You had been asleep for a long time.

Every hour, after pacing the length of the hall and sanitising his hands and wiping the beads of sweat above your brow and above your breasts he woke you up and held a cool glass to your lips. You mumbled and moaned and pushed him away but he kept his fingers across your wrist - harsher than he ever had before - and kept you as close to him as possible.

He couldn’t remember the last time he had cooked. Perhaps it was last valentines when the two of you had camped out under the stars, drinking icy white wine and sharing stolen, day drunk kisses. That night he had roasted a chicken over the fire and it had burnt to a crisp as the two of you rolled around the grass, his head buried in your neck as you giggled at the poultry going up in flames.

He was trying now though, easy, plain substantial meals that wouldn’t upset your stomach. Boiled egg and dippy soldiers. Crackers with smooth cheese. Bubbly water and ginger biscuits. Each time he went upstairs you pushed him away, your whole body shuddering and almost retching, and he felt like smashing the plates against the wall at his defeat.

It had been almost thirty six hours since he had come home and it had been almost as long since you had eaten something, and his heart thundered and shattered in his chest when he found you gasping and wheezing over the toilet bowl when you had taken a bite of toast to calm him. He rarely left you alone, only for a few minutes to put the still full dishes in the sink, to ring Lizzie and tell her that he wouldn’t be coming for reasons that he refused to disclose, to smoke a cigarette under the grey stone archway, his shaking hands and bitten fingernails barely visible through the sleepy rolling fog.

He had grabbed handfuls of papers and the brass ink pen you had got him for your anniversary and broke his own rule - bringing work into your bedroom. It had always been a sacred space. For candlelight and soft laughter, aching hands and heart shaped bruises, a sanctuary for him to breathe and to love and to be loved fully in return. But he was afraid if he didn’t have a distraction, he might just completely lose it, and he had to be there for you.

So he sat squinting in his glasses, the room almost completely dark save for a few candles because of the migraines that had started to spread throughout your skull, and let himself be drawn into the mess of squiggly lines and numbers that suddenly didn’t add up, with you still centre stage in his peripheral.

After about forty minutes of rereading the same sentence a dozen times to try and make some sense of it, he heard your voice, like a small crack spreading across a sheet of ice, coming from the bed.

“Tom?” You sounded so weak, he practically flipped your cream vanity as he got to his feet and darted towards you. “I don’t feel well.”

He lifted you as you reached your arms up at him like a child. He almost gasped at the sweat pouring from your body but didn’t want to scare you, and instead held your shaking, shivering body against his own. How could you be so hot, yet so cold at the same time? Your skin was prickled with goosebumps yet you were burning with a fever, and for the first time in a long time, he had no fucking idea what to do.

He left you propped up against the headboard and he entered the bathroom. He ran over to the claw foot tub you loved, twisting the faucet and trying to find the perfect medium between boiling hot and freezing cold. He didn’t want to overwhelm you, just try and soothe your raging fever, and he ignored the shelves of expensive bath oils and scented soaps that you coveted, instead opting for a handful of something meant to ease tension - praying to whoever was listening that it would help you somehow.

There was a brutal, awful moment as he lifted you from the bed, limp as a rag doll, where he imagined what would happen if your heart were to stop. He couldn’t comprehend what it would be like to miss the weight of you in his arms, the smell of your skin, the feeling of your lips against him, the shovels stopping and fading into nothing. It hit him square in the chest, as merciless as a bullet, and he had to lean against the doorframe to stop the two of you from plummeting to the ground.

He undressed himself first. Tugging his white shirt off, sliding off his slacks and his underwear, keeping you as close to his chest as he could. Then he pulled your nightgown up and over your head. He gathered your hair and secured it up with a claw clip so that it was away from your face, the heat radiating off your neck as fierce as the fire now burnt down to ash in the bedroom.

He lowered the two of you into the bath, sinking down beneath the eucalyptus smelling lukewarm water, letting it wash over you both. Your teeth were chattering and you were barely awake. He gathered handfuls of water, letting it drip over your shoulders and pulse points, grabbing a washcloth and running it over your raised skin, hating how you barely registered his touch. As he scrubbed over your collarbones and up to your face he saw your lips had turned to an awful, silvery blue, as vibrant as a fresh bruise. He hissed and tugged on the plug, now determined to get you wrapped up in a fresh towel and tucked back into bed.

You were soft and placid and he helped you out, lacking the usual fire that he adored. Your eyes were glassy and missing their vibrance, like the vanishing spark of a lighter - and he felt miles and miles of invisible distance between the two of you. You were unsteady on your feet and he used his body to prop you up as he warmed your arms with a fluffy white towel. You suddenly stopped, lifting your hand to your mouth as you started to cough - a horrible, dry, gasping cough.

He noticed it almost immediately. His eyes darting to the splatter of red against the white, a smudge of crimson that was as loud and commanding as a siren, a warning signal that something was definitely not right. A bead of scarlet that would linger long behind his closed eyelids.

He managed to get you back into bed, remaining calm as he stroked your hair and kissed your temple. He tucked you under the duvet and waited for your breathing to even before he ran downstairs, his heart thumping in his ears as he practically ripped the phone off of the wall.

“Pol? Fuck. I think - I think I need help.”

—————————————————————-

The room smelt like bleach and metal. Unfamiliar and clinical. There was something hard on your chest and covering your mouth, it tasted like wet pennies and was as heavy as a hand over your throat, but for the first time in days you could finally breathe. You tried to sit up, but there was a needle in your chest, a gown you didn’t recognise cut straight down the middle to accommodate it. You struggled and lifted the thin bedsheet above your shivering torso, trying to look around the cold room.

“Careful!”

It was Polly, dressed immaculately despite her surroundings. She reached out and placed a manicured hand across yours, and you smiled at the woman who had always been a calming influence when you had joined the circus of a family. There was concern in her eyes, rimmed with black eyeliner and lifted lashes but still swimming deep around her pupils. That made you frown, and you moved as much as you could to face her.

“What happened?”

She ran her tongue over her teeth, choosing her words. “You gave us quite a fright, love.”

“I did?” Your memories of the past few days were much like a fever dream, blurry and distorted snapshots were all you could really remember.

“Your pneumonia got worse. A lot worse.” She paused, looking over to the door and you followed her gaze. “They found fluid in your lungs.”

“So...” You started, gesturing to the needle in your abdomen and the breathing apparatus around your head.

She nodded. “Yes. You were in surgery. It was touch and go for a little bit.”

“Really?” You were bewildered. You couldn’t remember anything, let alone having major surgery. You looked her straight in the eye, asking her the questions that had been on the tip of your tongue since you had woken up. “Where is he? Where’s Tommy?”

“He’s outside.” She clicked her tongue, reaching deep into her purse and pulling out some hand cream, gently rubbing your dry hands like she was your mother. You leant into her touch despite all of your questions.

“What? Why?”

“I think he blames himself. God knows what goes on in that mans head. All I really know is he was bloody terrified.” She paused, looking over in the distance. “I’ve never seen him so scared, not even on his wedding day.” She smiled sadly, trying to lighten the mood, but it soon faded. “He didn’t leave your side the whole time you were asleep.”

Your heart thumped in your chest, a soft aching that you knew all too well. “I want to see him.”

“I know you do. But right now...” She stopped right as a handful of nurses entered, clad in long blue dresses with white aprons, hair tied back and smelling of strong soap and disinfectant. You lost Polly in the bustle as one spoke softly to you before tugging on the needle right beside your ribs, your eyes just catching hers as she left, a promise to see you soon on her lips.

It wasn’t her you saw next, but Tommy.

The nurses had cleaned you up with wet flannels and bowls of warm soapy water. Your hair had been braided and your face washed, and walked you arm in arm over to the bathroom so you could relieve yourself. A skittish doctor followed after, his eyes darting across you and his touch gentle as he changed your dressings and took your blood - obviously under strict instructions from your husband, and despite everything, you smiled.

You were sat listening to the clock tick. A romance novel you had been given was dangling dangerously close to the end of the bed, but you were too tired to focus on it. You heard the door squeal softly, and the sound of familiar footsteps across the tiling, each small thud sending shockwaves across your spine.

“Tommy.”

He looked tired. Exhausted rather, as though he had been awake all the hours that you had been asleep. His eyes were bloodshot and his skin was sallow and bruised. His clean shaven face was dark with stubble and his hair was ruffled and unwashed. You longed to reach out to him and cradle him against you, but he stood in the doorway, lingering like a ghost.

“Tommy?” You repeated, your voice almost a whisper, breaking his already shattered heart once again.

“How are you feeling, my love?”

You smiled softly, like spun sugar and sweet honey. No hospital bed or itchy gown could dull your infectious light. “Better now.”

He approached you almost cautiously. He settled down on the hard chair beside your bed and stroked a line down from your temple to your lips, his touch setting you alight like an electrical storm. There was a sadness in his eyes that reminded you of how he got when things were bad, and you willed him to come back to you. His touch was tentative and he inhaled shakily as you cupped his hand with yours, pressing a tender kiss to the inside of his palm.

“Don’t scare me like that. Ever.” He was stern, as though hoping his words would make it true. “I mean it.” He kept his gaze on your pretty face, trying his best not to stare at the harsh bruising on your delicate flesh or the sickly tone of your skin.

“Tommy I’m going to get sick, even you can’t stop that.” You teased gently.

“I can bloody well try.” His hands cradled your face, pulling you into him and kissing you fiercely, still mindful of the wires and tubes taped to your body. There was something about the tenderness and deep longing in the kiss that when mixed with your total exhaustion and love for your husband prompted tears to start falling from your eyes. You sniffled as he pulled away, concern dripping from his beautiful features, his powerful mind wanting to do everything and anything to stop your hurting.

“Hey, hey.” He said, running his calloused fingertips under your eyes and wiping your tears away. You leant into his touch and he kissed your temple, squeezing you even tighter into him. “You know I hate it when you cry.” He toyed with your hair and winked playfully. “Besides, all you need to focus on is getting better. You’re going to have to take care of me when we get home, this week has given me a fucking stroke.”

You rolled your eyes, kissing the inside of his wrist. “You’re a idiot, Thomas Shelby.” You blinked at the clock looming above you both, wanting to stay in your blissful bubble but also knowing that Aunt Pol would probably be in the vicinity harassing a poor nurse over your results. “You should go and find Polly, let her know that everything’s alright.”

He shook his head and nuzzled his nose across yours, an act so innocent that your heart dipped and swooped in your chest. “Later.” He said, breathless and consumed by you. Everything had been too much. Almost losing you had been harrowing, it had punctured him completely and he just needed to feel his girl safe and warm around him. He needed to know that you weren’t found anywhere.

“I just want to stay here for a while. Just me and you.”

You grinned. “Always.”

A small imagine where singer!reader is dating tom and releases a really sexy song about him and tom watches the music video and he's like 🥵🥵🥵 plsss

this took me forever to respond to but i feel like with ari’s new album the timing is perfect now

18+ under the cut u know the vibes

i took a page out of @hollandbaby‘s book and used an ari song for this, but the music video concept is fictional! listen to ‘nasty’ while you read this if u want :)

–––

he didn’t even know you had filmed a music video recently, and he hadn’t even heard the song yet. he was in for quite the surprise. 

your music video was dropping at 12pm est and it was currently 11:55pm. you were currently on your way to his house for the next few months to spend the weekend. he was about to film the next spider-man film and luckily you had some spare time before work took you elsewhere. you were ten minutes away from his house and smiled as you felt your phone buzz with a notification, knowing exactly who it was from.

when you reached a red light, you opened it.

tom: ‘so excited to see you love :)’

you smirked as you typed out a response.

y/n: ‘you have no idea how excited i am to see you too tommy’

as the light turned green you set your phone aside and stepped on the gas. you smiled as you looked up and noticed a billboard with your album cover on it. you were excited for the fans to hear your new music, but especially tom. the entire album was essentially dedicated to him anyway. 

when you hit traffic you looked at your phone and realized it was already 12pm. you sent the link to tom with no comment before posting it to your story and set the phone aside. 

tom smiled to himself when he heard the notification, thinking you were telling him that you were close by but his brows furrowed when he noticed what you had sent. when he noticed the title of the song, he shook his head, that little minx. he decided to search it up on his tv instead, wanting to see it as clear as possible. he’d never pressed the controls on his remote faster. 

as the video started up he could feel his heart pounding. 

you got me all up in my feels in all kind of ways, i be tryna wait

the song started and the camera panned up your legs slowly to show you walking along a hallway in a house, your body shining thanks to some body glitter, a beautifully revealing gown on you, with two slits on the side to show your smooth legs. you glared into the camera lustfully and tom felt his pants tighten as he clenched his jaw, his mouth suddenly feeling dry but somehow salivating at the same time. 

i just wanna make time for ya swear it's just right for ya 

the way you were singing the song was so sensual, it felt like you were singing right to him. and the way you were looking into his soul through the camera, he could tell you really were. 

like this pussy designed for ya

you got down on your hands and knees and crawled to the camera slowly, like a predator alluring it’s prey. “christ––” 

don't wanna wait on it tonight, i wanna get nasty (yeah, yeah)

he licked his lips, his eyes completely entranced by you and the way you were moving. the camera panned to you laying on a bed in the prettiest lingerie he’d ever seen but then again, anything would look that pretty on you. 

what you waiting for?  what you waiting for?

you were staring up at the camera, mouthing the words as your hands ran up and down your body and tom could barely contain himself, he wanted to pick up his phone and ask you where you were because he was getting impatient but he didn’t want to miss a thing on the screen.

don't wanna wait on it tonight, i wanna get nasty 

for the whole rest of the video, tom’s mouth was wide open, his eyes completely hypnotized as he watched you, wondering how on earth he got so lucky. 

you slowly made your way to his house, unlocking the door quietly with your own key as you heard the song playing through his speakers. he felt blood rush to his heart and his cock when he saw the dedication at the end, ‘dedicated to my love.’ you chuckled to yourself when you stepped into the living room behind the couch and saw tom wordlessly replay the video. 

you stepped back and took your phone out to record him, enjoying the way he was completely focused on the video, sitting up with his elbows on his knees as he leaned forward to see everything as much as he could.

after you posted to video to your story, captioning it ‘my inspiration approves of the song ;)’ you couldn’t keep in the laugh anymore. you set your phone and jacket aside before taking your shoes off and walking over to tom. he perked up instantly, looking at you in awe, almost as if he couldn’t believe you were real. 

his hands reached out for you and pulled you in to sit in his lap, your arms going around his neck as you looked down at him lovingly. “you gonna replay it for a third time?” you teased.

his eyes lit up playfully, “i think i deserve to, it is about me, after all.”

you nodded, a bright smile on your face as you leaned in to kiss him. he moaned into the kiss, his arms squeezing around your waist as you arched into him. 

he pulled away for a few split seconds, between kisses, not wanting to lose your lips or your taste. “that––” he licked his lips, trying to contain himself, “that lingerie you were wearing in the video––” he looked up at you hopefully. 

you interrupted him, amused and nonchalant, “oh you mean the one i’m wearing right now?”

you’d never seen his gaze darken so fast. he stood up immediately and you squealed as he practically dragged you to the room, one thing on his mind.

he stripped you down and when the lacy fabric came into his view he traced his hands over your skin softly, memorizing the look and the feel of you under his hands. he pushed you down to lay down on the bed and the way you were looking up at him, just as you were in the video made him curse as he tugged his shirt off. 

“you don’t have to give this back do you?” he asked as he played with the waistband of the bottoms. 

you bit your lip as you shook your head, “nope. it’s all mine.”

he grinned, “good, cause i’d really like to fuck you in it.”

he positioned himself between your legs, slid the fabric to the side and swiped his thumb between your folds, pleased to see how wet you were. seeing him all riled up because of a music video of yours did wonders to your ego and your sex drive. 

he spread your wetness around, making a proper mess between your thighs, before rubbing his thumb over your clit. you sighed and rolled your hips into his touch, yearning for more. when you became too needy, he slid a finger in, then when you begged for it, a second one. he was giving you everything you wanted, you more than deserved it after the treat you gave him.

soon he was pumping two fingers into you, rubbing against your g-spot just the way you needed as his thumb rubbed your bundle of nerves. you gasped, your eyes fluttering shut, your body arching and tensing as you tipped over the edge, your thighs trying but failing to shut closed. 

“that’s it, such a good girl.” 

when you came to again, your eyes opened to find tom scanning your body, his two fingers inside his mouth as he cleaned your wetness off of them, clearly enjoying the taste and the sight of you. 

he shrugged his sweats off, along with his boxers all in one go and quickly made his way back over to you. his hand rubbing your thigh soothingly as he positioned his cock at your entrance. he slid in easily, the two of you fitting like puzzle pieces and he bottomed out instantly, the both of you moaning into the sultry atmosphere of the room. 

his hands held onto you tight as he thrusted into you, eyes never leaving your body for a second. you looked like a goddess lying there underneath him, your body covered in that intricate lace design. he would never be able to get enough of you. 

“had me bulging through my boxers since i started the video, love. you know that?”

you looked up at him, your eyes bright as you pulled him down and locked your lips together. “couldn’t wait for you to see it. was thinking of you the whole time we filmed.”

he bit your lip smugly and turned his attention to your neck. he wanted these marks to last even after you left in a few days. “all mine,” he mumbled into your skin and your breath hitched as he sped up his movements. 

“gonna make me cum tommy, want you to cum with me.” your fingers gripped his curls, your other arm tightening around his back as he pounded into you.

“yeah baby? i’m close too, please cum with me, darling. that’s it.”

several thrusts, moans and curses later, tom was panting on top of you, the both of you trying to catch your breaths, as you lied there sweaty and satisfied.

he pulled out and lied next to you, staring up at the ceiling in disbelief. “that video was really something, love.” 

you smiled cheekily, “wait until you hear the rest of the album.”

he let out a loud breath of air before pulling you closer to him by your waist and leaving a kiss on your forehead. “you’ll be the death of me, darling.”

you giggled but sat up when he got off of the bed. you tilted your head as you watched him, “where are you going?”

he turned to you, a mischievous glint in his eyes, “gonna go get the speaker. think i have the perfect album for us to listen to while we...” he looked you up and down, licking his lips teasingly. “get nasty, as you put it.”

One Year

a dreamsmp x reader where a young (y/n) wants to rebuild an old old kingdom before they have to be crowned to rule over their parents kingdom. with the help of their friends and a couple of servants, they hope to rebuild it all with out their parent knowing about it.

part 1 part 2  part 3 part 4

part 3/?

masterlist

unedited, so their will be parts that are off

actual story ooooo

word count: 4247

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

Nikki and (y/n) have been riding their horse for over an hour. It started to get a bit painful so they decided to take a break in a small clearing in the woods. 

They set up a small picnic filled with baked goods, bread and sandwiches. They had plenty of water and hooked up thunder in a tree not far from them. 

"How are you not tired? We all wake up at ungodly hours in the castle." (Y/n) asked, taking a bite of their sandwich. Nikki giggled. "I've had to stay up for days to get orders done for some clients. What about you?" (Y/n) sighed. "Slept for awhile before we left. I can't stay up like you can." They laughed, setting their sandwich down. "Thats fair, will you be able to stay awake before we get there?" Niki asks, drinking some water. 

"Mm Idk, might sleep on you while we travel." They both laugh a bit. "If you do, I'm kicking you off." (Y/n) dramatically gasps. "You wouldn't!" They jokingly say, making Nikki giggle slightly. "Oh i would! Watch your back (n/n)." (Y/n) smiled.

"Aww we are friends!" The two of them continue to joke like this, occasionally eating and such. 

The sun continued to rise as they talked. Birds chirped and flew above them, some even trying to eat some of their food. The breeze was nice and soft, the air warmer than it was when they first left. Flowers flicked softly as the wind pushed them, along with the grass around them. It was a peaceful morning, two newly made friends chatting and enjoying eachothers company.

The two of them soon finished up, packing up and hun hooking thunder to the neighboring tree. They made sure thunder was well fed and such before getting on him. They made sure to leave nothing behind.

“Ready nikki?” (y/n) asked, hopping on the horse. Nikki nodded, getting on as well. “Don't fall asleep on me, okay?” (y/n) rolled their eyes. “Wouldn't dream of it.” Nikki smiled. “Good, cause your not gonna be dreaming on my watch.” they both laughed, starting up their journey once more.

It took a couple more hours and some stops, but they finally made it to the neighboring village to the arctic kingdom. The drastic weather change hit them harshly, having to grab the coats and appropriate clothes they packed for this weather. “I forgot how cold it was around here. I wonder how they even manage to have a garden in their castle…” (y/n) says, hugging onto nikki more so than before. “I've never even been here before. Never imagined how could it would be..”

They stopped at a random motel esc thing in the village. They hooked up thunder in the horse pen nearby, grabbing their bags and walking inside. Ordering a room threw niki, the two of them got into their room and collapsed on the bed there.

“Oh god i forgot how tiring traveling was. You good there niki?” (y/n) asked the pinkett, rolling over to face her. “Everything hurts.” she says, muffled by the blankets beneath her.she laid face down so it was a bit hard to hear, but they managed “Yeah i get that. We should get a bit of sleep before going to the castle.'' Nikki nodded, rolling onto her side instead of the uncomfortable position she was in before.

They fell asleep quite easily, having been up for longer than they were used to. Niki slept soon after, snoring softly. It was peaceful, for a bit, but they had to get up eventually. 

It was past noon when they awoke, groaning softly. Nikki was still sleeping, drooling a bit. (y/n) shook her awake. “Come on get up!” niki sat up, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes. "What time is it?" She asked, her voice slightly hoarse. "A bit past noon. We should buy some things at the market out of town, sense We've run out of food." Nikki nodded, looking down at her cloths. "Oh god i slept in my shoes…" Nikki says, slipping off the soft mattress. (y/n) nodded, getting off as well. “Yeah we both did. Thank god we didn't get the bed all messed up. Come on, we need to a market.” niki nodded, readjusting her clothes. “Let's go then!”

The market wasn't too much to brag about. It was small and selled the basic things any market would. When they two of them got back, it had reached around 6 pm. (y/n) opened the door to the room they were staying in, sitting in one of the chairs. “Can't believe we had to travel that far to get to the market outside of town.” Nikki nodded, sitting on the bed, taking off her shoes this time. “Yeah, the snow didn't help either. Thunder wasn't having a fun time with that one.” (y/n) nodded, looking out the window of their room. It was nearly dark.

“How do you think we're gonna get into the castle without them thinking we're gonna kill them or something?” niki said, getting up and slowly walking up towards (y/n). “I don't know, if tommys room has changed or he isn't there, we might have to go to techno.” niki nodded. “Getting caught will make things messy.” (y/n) looked at their bag of stuff, the letters nearly falling out the bag. “This better go well. Tommy should be back from his trip with their army, there's no threat of war, everything should be okay.” niki nodded, looking out the window. It had gotten dark, the only light there was came from intown or their room. “We need to wait till midnight.” she said, plopping on the bed. “Yeah, midnight is always the best option. Wanna read till then? I brought a book or two.” niki nodded while (y/n) whent to their bag and grabbed the book in question. “I'll read to you! I like telling stories so..”

(y/n) climbed into bed next to their friend, opening the book. They start to read, niki reading along as well.

This went on till it had reached around midnight, the book being forgotten about and the both of them being fully dressed and prepared to get to the castle.

“We shouldn't take thunder, he could be more trouble than good.” niki says, lacing up her boots. “Yeah, you're probably right. Got your stuff?” she nodded, having reduced her bag to only things that would help with them sneaking into the castle.

“Alright, let's get going then!”

Niki and (y/n), making sure thunder wouldn't leave, left the small hotel for the arctic kingdom, wearing appropriate clothing for the harsh arctic weather that happens in the night. The kingdom was pretty lively at night, cloaking the two of them. Reaching the outside of the castle, they noticed no one was guarding the gate. (y/n) thought for a second, then remembered a secret entrance they and Tommy used when they were younger. 

“Niki, follow me.” she nodded, walking with (y/n) to the side of the castle. They noticed a window with a light on, one of the few ones on this side of the castle. (y/n) looked down, seeing a crack in the big wall that surrounded it. It was made of iron bars, one of which had been broken for years. They walked through, trying not to get hurt by the metal. (y/n) looked at niki. “This isn't a crime right?” they asked. “Breaking and entering? Definitely not.” she joked, looking up at the castle. “Which ones the right window?” (y/n) pointed to one of the windows. “The one to the left of the lit one. That's a storage room, so we can enter and sneak towards Tommy's room.” 

Niki nodded, looking into their bag. “Wait how are we going to get up there?” she asked, looking back at their friend. (y/n) pointed towards the vines leading up to the window. “Vines. They should be sturdy enough to still go up. If not...we’ll be in a lot of pain.” niki sighed. “So reassuring.” they laughed, starting to get onto the vine. “It should be fine.” 

They climbed up the vines, their breath being shown in the cold air. The vines were pretty sturdy, being thick enough to hold them up. Niki stayed behind, waiting for (y/n) to get through the window. (y/n) looked at the window, it being closer to them now. They noticed it was opened slightly, the room letting hot air escape. They climbed up a bit more, latching onto the window. They looked inside, seeing the door open to the small room. They sighed, opening the window and climbing threw. Once landing onto the floor of the castle, they looked out the window towards niki, waving her up.

“WHO’S THERE!?!??” (y/n) jumped, looking towards the person who just yelled at them. 

They saw wilbur holding a lantern in his hand, taking a look at the person who had just broken into his home. “Oh goddamnit..” wilbur lowers the lantern, looking at the disappointed person. “..wait (y/n)?? what are you doing here?” they sighed, stepping away from the window. “Heyyy will. This isn't awkward at all.” they sighed. “Please don't arrest me and my friend.” will, looking towards the window. “You brought a friend?” (y/n) looked at the window, seeing niki latch onto it. They helped her up. “Okay now we-AHH PRINCE WILBUR!” niki shouts, hiding behind (y/n). Wilbur laughs slightly.

“Yeah, we got caught right away.” (y/n) says, looking at the pinkett. Niki moved out from behind them, waving shyly at the prince. “Hi...im niki.” wilbur smiled. “Nice to meet you niki. Now, what are you two doing sneaking in here when you know you can just enter like you normally did.” (y/n) and niki look at each other. “That's a long story that you can tell phil.or my dad.” Wilbur sighed, moving away from the door. “Come on, we’ll go to my room. This better not be illegal.” (y/n) chuckled. “Trust me, it already is.” 

The three of them walked threw the castle, noticing just how dark and lonely it can be at night. Wilbur turned the corner heading towards the last door in the hall. He opened it, letting the two of them in. It was of decent size. The room was covered in papers, the walls being barren while the bed and desk covered. Some had ink spilled on them, either as a mistake or out of rage. (y/n) looked towards the prince. “What's all this about?” they asked, pointing towards his untidy desk. He sighed. “Tell my why your here first.” he moved the papers from off his bed so the two of them could sit down. “Fine fine.” they said, sitting on the bed. Niki followed. Wilbur closed the door, deciding to just lean against the wall.

(y/n) looked into their bag, pulling out the paper on the old kingdom of lmanburg, handing it to wilbur. “A few days ago I found this in one of my parents' history books. It had fallen out so I read it. It's about an old kingdom destroyed by a group who didn't like its ideals, probably anarchists or something. Since I wanted to get out of the castle for a while, I decided to go see it, rebuild it if you will. When I told father he didn't let me, however, niki and another friend, Karl, helped me out. I wanted to rebuild the kingdom with tommy and tubbo, so me and niki whent to see him and give him the letter i was originally just gonna send him. Now here we are, in your room.” 

Wilbur was reading over the paper (y/n) had given him. He smiled, handing it back to (y/n). “I could maybe help out. Tommy just got back so he's in a deep sleep right now. I'll hide you here till the morning when I'll bring him in here. There's one condition though.” Wilbur states. Niki nodded her head. “What is it?” 

“I help rebuild lmanburg. I like its past ideals and wanna help out. I've been wanting to get out of here for awhile, Phil leaving everything to me has been taxing. I won't be king for a long while, so I've got time.” (y/n) stood up. “Do you have a year?” the young man nodded, stepping forward off the wall. “Yeah i think so, do we have a deal young one?” he asked, holding his hand out. (y/n) looked towards Nikki, who nodded her head. (Y/n) turned back, smiling. They took his hand. “We have a deal, also I'm not that young.” he chuckled, ruffling their heads. “Sure kid.” They laughed together.

The three of them talked the rest of the night, none of them really getting tired. It was light out when someone knocked on wilburs door. They opened it without any warning, scaring the three of them. (y/n) accidentally fell on the floor while niki grabbed a carrot from her bag as a weapon.

“Heh? Wait (y/n) why are you on the floor.'' They looked up to see an unimpressed techno at the door. Wilbur rushed towards techno, shoving him inside and closing the door behind him. He made sure to lock it this time.

“Heeeyyy techno.” they said, getting up. Niki shyly put away her carrot weapon. Techno sighed. “What are you doing here?” he asked, standing next to will. “Well firstly, please dont tell Phil or my dad, secondly it's a long story.” they said, gesturing to the bed. Techno sighed, sitting down. The three of them told him what was going on, and why they had to stay a secret. Techno looked at the three of them.

 “Fine i won't tell phil, but in turn you have to braid my hair like you used to.” (y/n) smiled, nodding. “I won't be able to put any flowers in it though.” techno stood up, shaking his head. “When you're talking to Tommy, I'll get the flowers. I'll go distract Phil while you three head to Tommy's room though. I woke him up before i got here so.” (y/n) nodded, thanking the immortal man. He nodded, walking out the room.

“Why does lmanburg sound so familiar?” he said to himself, walking through the halls. 

Wilbur turned to niki and (y/n). “That went well.” they both nodded, speaking agreements to the man. (y/n) grabbed their bag. “Yeah, it went pretty well. Now, let's head to Tommy's room. Gotta complete our mission.” 

"We didn't break in here for nothing." Nikki said, following (y/n). Wilbur nodded, walking behind the two and closing the door. They looked around, making sure no one was around to see them. They walked back down the hall towards the teens room, praying no one would spot them.

They reached the door, wilbur knocking on it. An angered tommy opens it, all of them being able to feel the air from the door. “What will happen!? Can't you see I'm busy??” (y/n) steps out from behind wilbur. “No your not. Let us in.” tommy stared at them for a second. “Wait (y/n)!?” they nodded, smiling. “Mhm, now let us in.” they said showing a deadpan face. Tommy gasped, letting them all in, noticing niki as well. Wilbur closed the door, staring his younger brother down. “Tell father these two are here and where we’re going i will murder you.” tommy rolls his eyes. “Like you could kill me.” 

“Boys boys shut up your both stupid. Ugh this is gonna be a long year.” (y/n) says, turning to niki. “Why can't it just be us two.'' She laughed at this. Tommy gasps dramatically. “I am not stupid! Wilbur is though.'' Wilbur glared at tommy. “I am so gonna kill you when we leave-” “okay okay, calm down.” (y/n) says, interrupting the older man. Wilbur sighs, slumping. 

“Anyways, tommy, we snuck in here to recruit you for something!” (y/n) says, leaning against tommys bed posts. They were on both ends of the bed. Tommy stared at both niki and (y/n). “Well first who's this?” he said, pointing to the pinkett. “I'm niki! It's nice meeting you! (y/n) told me alot about you, they even told me you used to braid technos hair and put flowers-” “OKAY I DO NOT LIKE HER!! SHUT UP BITCH!!'' Tommy shouts, interrupting the smirking girl. “Yeah yeah, you hate everyone.” (y/n) says. “Now you know niki, we wanna talk to you about something we had planned.”

(y/n) then told tommy all about the kingdom, and how they missed hanging out with him and tubbo. They wanted to see them again, so they snuck in here to get him to come with them. Tommy processed all of this, thinking if he should go with them. “What ideals did it hold? How long will it be? And can i be the president?” (y/n) handed him the lmanburg paper. “Independance, freedom and others listed there. Up until i get crowned to rule the uranian kingdom so like a year. No not in a million years.” tommy ponder for a second. “Alright I'm in. I will be president one day though.” (y/n) patted his head. “Sure buddy. Sure you will.” (y/n) looked into their bag, handing him the letter they wrote to him. “This might go into a bit more detail. Now if you excuse me, im gonna sleep on your bed. “Hey hey no your not! I have more questions.” (y/n) nodded. “Alright fine. What is it. “

Tommy looked at the letter. “How are we gonna get to tubbo? He's never had a concrete place of living, how will we find him?” (y/n) thought for a second. “No idea. Might ask Jack for help since he runs the only train system in the smp...i'm really not sure though.`` Tommy just stared at them. “Wow, amazing. We’re actually gonna have to do work to find him.” tommy complains. Wilbur shuckled. “Like youre gonna help.” tommy glared at him. “Why are you even coming along anyway?? You have things to do here you know.`` Wilbur smacked Tommy's arm. “So do you! You literally lead our military tommy. We can just leave it to phil and techno sense they do absolutely nothing.”

“What do you mean i do nothing? I have to deal with you two everyday, that's enough.” techno interrupted the two's conversation, standing  in the doorway. Niki and (y/n) laughed at this. “I bet their a handful.” niki said. “Oh yeah, tommy especially. The childs really annoying and hard to deal with. Nearly strangled him once or twice.” the pink haired man said. Tommy glared at him. “Dad would kill you before you could.” techno laughed, sighing. “I'm not scared of your father, I could totally win against him in a fight.”

“Do they always fight like this?” niki asked me. “Yes they do. It gets annoying real fast.” they both laugh together. Techno turned towards (y/n), gesturing towards the basket in his hands. “You, braid, now.” (y/n) chuckled at this. “Alright alright. Sit on the bed.” techno follows this, sitting down on the side of the bed. (y/n) got behind him, grabbing the flowers and sectioning his hair. Tommy saw this and sat next to them, wanting to help out like he used to. Niki and Wilbur smiled at this, Wilbur grabbing his guitar and looking towards niki. “Do you know any songs you could sing?” he asked, sitting down on one of tommys chairs just after closing and locking the door. Niki responded, smiling softly. “I know i few.”

(y/n) and Tommy braided and placed flowers into technos hair like they did when they were kids, while Wilbur and Niki played a few songs together to add to the peaceful atmosphere. It was a nice, calming experience the five of them needed. It was peaceful, and held a bit of nostalgia for some of them. When (y/n) and Tommy finished up technos hair, they still stayed like this, quietly playing a few songs and just catching up with one another. Getting to know niki while she got to hear some funny stories about the two brothers and a young (y/n) was a nice experience. It was nice knowing they would be close friends.

They noticed how it had reached mid day by the time they had stopped telling stories. (y/n) had gotten a bit tired while Tommy got quite bored or distracted. Wilbur suggested that they had lunch together, since Phil had left that morning for a week-long trip. They all agreed, and went off to their kitchen to make a real quick meal for the five of them.

Tommy and (y/n) were in charge of setting the table, since Tommy was banned from the kitchen and someone needed to keep him in check. Niki and Wilbur made the main part of the meal, along with some treats, while techno made tea and other drinks for them all. He helped make some of the food though.

Once finished up, they all ate together at the big table in the dining hall. (y/n) and niki talked of their adventure here, how they had a horse that they needed to return to jack soon and how they had nearly gone the wrong way at some point.

Once finished, Wilbur and Tommy agreed to pack up since they had to leave to give back the horse. Wilbur and Tommy said they had their own so they did have a way of transportation. Techno, (y/n) and niki sat in the dining hall, waiting for the two of them to be done packing.

“So, i've been thinking about this lmanburg place.” techno says, messing with one of the glasses at the table. “I think that place has a lot more significance than you think.” (y/n) looked at techno. “Hm? What do you mean.”

“Well for starters, I think yo-” “WILL DONT PUSH ME DOWN THE STARS!!!! I WILL STAB YOU IN AN ALLEYWAY WITH A KNIFE!'' Tommy Yelles from upstairs, interrupting techno in the process. 

Wilbur came running into the room, being chased by an angry tommy with a knife in hand. Niki got up from her seat and tackled tommy. “GIVE ME THE KNIFE!!” she shouted, trying to get the knife from his hand. “LET ME GO BITCH!!!'' Wilbur stood near (y/n) who was wheezing in laughter.

“GIVE.ME.THE.KNIFE!!!!” niki said, trying her best to grab it. Eventually, tommy gives up and hands niki the knife. She smiled “good. No more knives okay?``Tony nodded, grabbing his bag which had fallen by the entrance. He sits next to where niki sat, who soon stood next to him. “Are we all ready to go?” (y/n) asked, standing up from their seat. Everyone nodded, techno getting up as well. “Might as well actually get stuff done instead of what normally happens.” he said, walking over to (y/n) and hugging them. “It was good seeing ya.” he says, letting go. (y/n) smiled. “Yeah, it was nice braiding your greasy ass hair again.” techno rolled his eyes. “It's not that bad.” “Sure, sure it isn't.”

Everyone said their goodbyes to techno, Tommy opting to try and stab him (he somehow got another knife). He didn't stab techno.

They 4 of them left the dining hall, opting to just walk out the castle since no one would see them today. They went to the stable, grabbing two horses for the trip. When leaving,  (y/n) and niki told them they needed to go back to the motel to get anything they left behind, plus the horse they needed to give back to their friend. They nodded, walking to the village to grab thunder and anything else.

“Thunder, I know you were alone all night and morning, but you gotta come with us man!” (y/n) said to a sluggish thunder. He didn't want to get out of the stable. “Hungry? Thirsty?” thunder seemed to respond to that, so (y/n) gave him what he needed and he finally agreed to leave. They met back with niki, wilbur and tommy, who were in front of the hotel. “We’re do we go from here?'' Tommy asked, eating a cookie he snatched from a market aways back. “We’re going to the arctic kingdom trainstation to give thunder back to jack, maybe ask him if he knows where tubbo lives nowadays.” they said, hopping on the horse niki was on. Wilbur nodded, looking down at Tommy who was the only one not on a horse. “Gonna hop on?”

“I have my own horse, dick head.” Tommy says, hopping onto the said horse. “Well i didn't say you could ride with me now did i?” “you literally did!!” the two bickered a bit, niki and (y/n) just 

leaving them behind. After they noticed the two had started to leave, they stopped fighting and followed the two of them.

They headed to the train station that was a bit out of town, hoping Jack would be there. If not, this plan got a bit more complicated.

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@xx-smiley-xx @darkqueenhyde @livinevi 

Since Steve’s parents are out of town so often, he and Billy have a habit of hooking up at Steve’s place. Steve’s room is nice and all, but Billy has a thing for fucking Steve in his mom’s bed;; ((HI I LOVE YOUR ACCOUNT AND YOUR STORIES THANK YOU FOR CREATING SUCH MASTERPIECES💖💖))

THANK YOU SO SO MUCH AND ALSO SORRY FOR TAKING SO LONG TO ANSWER THIS!!! (This sent me down an interior decorating rabbit hole trying to figure out what Steve’s mom’s bed- and then her own room might look like😅😂 Please imagine a layout similar to this, but with another window on the other side of the bed for more light. The ‘sofa’ and bed look a lot more like this, but the colors and style are more similar to this and this room.) 2.2k words, rated E. Steve POV, some manhandling, some frottage, some rimming and dirty talk. Anal sex. Ya know. My usual.

Steve’s parents have a big enough house (and are rich enough) that his mom has an entire bedroom for herself. She calls it her boudoir, because it’s where her walk-in closet is and where she keeps all her fancy makeup, lesser used jewelry and perfumes. There’s a massive four-poster bed with floor-length drapes matching the curtains, a chaise lounge, a vanity, all in creamy white and bathed in warm lamp light. 

Before he gets together with Billy, Steve doesn’t even think about it’s existence. It’s just another empty room, after all. The most he sees of the house are the entrance, kitchen, living room and the walk upstairs to his bedroom with his own bathroom. Hell, sometimes it slips his mind that he technically lives in what counts in Hawkins as a mansion.

Billy, however, becomes obsessed with the ‘boudoir’ in particular. 

The first time he's supposed to really stay over, not just crash in Steve’s room and fuck him into his bed at 3am, he steps through the front entrance, whistles after a survey of the hallway and goes “Aren’t you gonna show me around?”

“Yeah, sure. Just take a pair of house shoes from over there.” Steve gestures towards the shoe rack in question and Billy’s expression goes from amused to disbelieving.

“Seriously?”

Steve glares at him. “Yeah. Seriously. My parents put in new flooring over the summer and now everything has to look pristine for the two times a year they have visitors over.”

It's such an unnecessary, stupid rule to enforce all of a sudden when Steve has rarely worn shoes around the house anyways. 

He’s barefoot when it’s warm outside and leaves his shoes by the front door to change into thick wool socks during the cold months. And somehow, his parents still have found a new way to make him feel like he’s walking on eggshells in his own home.

Still, he watches Billy sullenly take off his shoes with growing amusement that gradually lightens the bad mood Steve’s gotten into just thinking about it. He figures he can give Billy a quick tour of the house and then order pizza. Watch a movie, fuck in an actual bed instead of getting each other off in the cramped backseats of their cars.

What happens instead is that Billy spends a ridiculous amount of time dragging Steve through his own home. He looks into guest rooms. Shoves his nose into cabinets. Looks out of windows like he’s staking out the neighborhood. (Woods. The neighborhood is mostly woods.)

“What are you, a spy?” Steve jokingly asks when Billy lifts up a painting to peek behind, like he’s looking for a safe. Billy scoffs, all mock-offended. But Steve can see a hint of a blush form on his cheeks. Gotcha. It’s kinda sweet how curious he is about the place, even if his main complaint is that it “feels like a show house.” Steve doesn’t have the heart to point out that he’s not too far off.

It’s when they step into his mom’s room that a predatory glint enters Billy’s eyes. “Ohh, is this where Mama Harrington sleeps?”

“Yeah. Sometimes. She wanted a room to get ready ‘in peace’. I’m pretty sure she just wants to drink prosecco in peace.” He watches Billy’s fingers trail over the fabric of one of the creamy white curtains framing the window. They part and his rings glint in the sunlight he’s suddenly bathed in. When he turns back around his hair is lit up gold and frames his head like a halo. Steve licks his lips. The fun thing about dating Billy is that he not only matches Steve in terms of libido, but seems to have a sixth sense for the moment Steve’s thoughts get distracted by his gorgeous everything.

Or maybe Steve just isn’t very subtle.

That glint in Billy’s eyes turns into hungry laser focus. Sets him into motion until he’s all pressed against Steve, a hot line of unrelenting muscle pushing him closer to the bed until they tip over and onto the mattress. Half hidden by more curtains hanging from the canopy. Sunlight follows them.

White teeth flash in an easy grin, quick and sweet, and then Billy’s lips are on Steve’s. His body weight pushes Steve into the creamy white bed cover and the air out of his lungs in a huffed laugh. Underneath him the texture of the blanket- distinct raised ribbing- digs into his skin. Billy’s hands dig into his hair.

The slick heat of Billy’s mouth and his thigh shoved between Steve’s legs is intoxicating. Makes it impossible to form a coherent thought when his focus narrows down on Billy on top of him, curls just long enough to fall down and tickle Steve’s face. He makes the most delicious sound when Steve grabs his ass and pulls him closer, till their hips are lined up just right. Steve pulls. Billy pushes. Like a conversation in a language purely made of heat and pressure, hitching breaths and choked moans. Against his own growing erection, painfully trapped in his jeans, he can feel Billy fill out as well. The pleasure is maddening. Enough to make Steve feel a burst of wetness pulse from his dick into his underwear. Enough to make him roll his hips up, searching for a better angle.

“Billy,” he sighs, not sure what he wanted to say afterwards. Just enjoys saying his name.  

“We’re wearing too many clothes,” Billy complains in response, like he picked up whatever thought Steve dropped in the minuscule space between them. They break out into a familiar flurry of limbs and discarded clothes. A condom packet and a small bottle of lube make it from Billy’s discarded jacket onto the comforter next to Steve’s head. He snorts.

“You sure you weren’t a boy scout at some point? Feels like you’re always prepared to get your dick wet.”

Billy rolls his eyes, fond smile belying his annoyance. “Shut up. Turn around.” His voice has taken on that deep, rough tone indicating how much he’s turned on. Steve leans back instead, takes his dick in hand. Enjoys the rough drag of his dry palm when he drags it up in a loose grip. Just enough to tease.  Billy raptly follows the movement. “Maybe I will if you ask me nicely.”

Oh, he loves this game. Put up a token bit of protest when Billy gets bossy, until he gets impatient and starts dragging Steve around until he’s nothing but putty underneath his hands.

“Show me your pretty hole, babe. I won’t ask again.” 

Steve’s dick pulses in his hand. He watches Billy with half-lidded eyes. The way his muscles shift, getting ready to move. Hungry and powerful, like a big wildcat.

In the next second, he’s on Steve. Makes him gasp out an involuntary yelp when he easily flips him and drags him up by his hips. Until he’s on his knees, face buried in the bed cover and hot breath suddenly ghosts over his hole. There’s barely enough time to reorient himself before the scratch of Billy’s mustache and the slick warmth of his tongue press into his crack.

“Ah, fuck yes.”

He’s never done this before Billy. Not with any of the girls he fucked or dated. Not with Tommy, who he’s traded sloppy, shameful handjobs and blowjobs with. He doesn’t think he can ever get enough of feeling Billy’s tongue on his rim, swirling around until he’s dripping with saliva. Pushing inside where he’s sensitive, pressure and stretch of his hole making him squirm and push his hips back immediately.

It’s almost embarrassing how greedy he is for Billy’s mouth on him. His lips wrapped around his dick. His tongue shoved deep into his hole, held in place by those warm hands on his asscheeks. Holding him open so Billy can get even deeper, making him moan and drool into the blanket beneath him. It’s like a pulse, curls into him till his dick pushes out another spurt of precome and he can feel himself twitch, heavy and aching between his legs.

A slicked up finger joins Billy’s tongue. Makes the stretch just a bit more intense, but still so, so good. Billy only comes up for air when he adds a second finger. Steve can feel him rest his cheek on his ass, probably watching the movement of his fingers up close. He seems to have a thing for the sight of Steve’s rim stretched, his hole filled up and glistening.

“Gonna make you a complete mess in your mom’s bed,” Billy huffs into his skin. “Gonna make you cry and cream yourself all over her sheets.” He thrusts deeper and stretches his fingers until they tug at Steve’s hole and he groans with the ache.  “Better get going then,” he tries to taunt. It falls flat with all that desperation laced through his words.  The thing is, provoking Billy only gets you so far. Steve can tease him into impatience, but once he’s fully grasped control, he revels in it. Basks in Steve’s frenzied, futile attempts at irritating him. Like he’s had his chance, but the game is already won.

Steve doesn’t mind losing that much anyways.

“Just you wait,” Billy says fondly.

All Steve can focus on for a while is that glorious, slick movement of Billy’s fingers. The way he pushes in and out of him, stretches his rim and his insides, rubs over that spot inside of him that makes him frantically claw at the textured bed cover underneath him. Just long enough to make him whine and push back, pulse around a third finger that stretches him even wider.

At some point, when he’s reduced to a sweat-slick line of tightly wound pleasure, he finds himself empty. Barely registers the sound of a ripped open condom wrapper. Warm, humid breath over his spine that wanders up up up until there’s lips and teeth on his shoulder and Billy’s cock slowly pushes inside.

There’s a growing spot of drool-wet fabric his face presses into that swallows some of his moans. When Billy moves, satisfied sighs and barely coherent praises tumbling from his lips, Steve grasps the bed cover tight. 

Billy’s hips find a rolling, unrelenting rhythm. The drag of his cock is a drug Steve can’t get enough of. Dreams about, just as much as he dreams about the tight heat of Billy around his dick.

He wishes he could turn around and admire Billy’s flushed face. Hold him between his spread legs. Get lost in his eyes and dizzy from his freckles. But Billy’s weight on his back and his mouth sucking hickeys into the back of his neck isn’t bad either. He tries to hold himself up, tries to concentrate on carrying that weight on his back, but with each thrust inside it’s like his knees spread wider and his elbows sink down until he’s pressed flat onto the bed. And then his dick makes contact with the bed cover and gets pushed right into it right along Billy’s thrusts.

“Ah!” The moan is embarrassingly loud. Louder than any other noise he’s made so far. Of course, Billy picks up on it.

“You gonna be a good boy and blow your load all over your mommy’s sheets?”

“Shut- shut up, fuck.” Billy just laughs, voice shot to hell.

Even if Steve wanted to, he can’t escape that mouthwatering pleasure the additional drag of rough fabric against his dick provides. Because even if he wanted to try, he can’t pull away from Billy’s weight on top of him. His heavy, thick cock inside of him that holds him open and fills him up.

He comes with a sob. Pushes his face harder into wet fabric. Pushes his dick through his own mess. Pushes his hips back to meet Billy’s thrusts, even when it becomes just a bit too much.

Billy rests his entire weight on him when he comes with a deeply satisfied groan. Through their aftershocks, he buries his face in Steve’s hair and they rest in companionable silence.

It’s not the last time they end up fucking on that bed, no matter how many times Steve complains about the laundry with flushed cheeks.

...

Steve isn’t enough of an idiot to not understand that Billy likes to fuck him in his mom’s bed because he likes the conquest of a room that’s ‘forbidden’. He’s the same at parties, likes to sneak into rooms he’s not supposed to be in. Likes the thrill of doing something nasty with Steve in a place his mom will walk into and never even suspect what’s happened.

And Billy? Billy doesn’t want to admit it, especially not to Steve’s face, but... the way Steve’s hair looks against the creamy-white sheets in his mom’s bedroom? The soft yellow glow of light, the blush that spreads from his cheeks down to his neck, to his chest faster than it does anywhere else- it’s addictive.

The best part, the one they both like a little too much is what happens afterwards. When the raised ribbing of the bed cover has left indents on Steve’s face where it’s been pressed down. On his arms and knees. On his back, where only Billy can see and trace it for the rest of the night, reverent and sweet.

Wallflower AU (aka highschool au made w/ @bellfort3)

V i b e s - hanging on the roof; walking across train tracks; skipping school; Lakes, yes, something with lakes; something with different types of sodas. - My angsty teens are gonna have painted nails - Tommy bleaches his hair; Wilbur dyes his hair black - dramatic fuck. - Wilbur in eyeliner plz - Wilbur wears doc martens; black, yellow, maroon, silver shiny - Tommy's worn the same exact jean jacket for the past 5 years; it's 2 sizes bigger than he is; but he wears it every single day; it has fur on the inside; and its light washed with tears; the tears didn’t come like it; he's just ripped it over the years - He doesn't wash it very often, but he's glued patches on it, and Wilbur's drawn on it in sharpie. He just layers hoodies or flannels under it when it’s cold, but still wears it when it's hot - Tommy's also worn the same shoes for YEARS, they’re duct taped together at this point, they're white converse, they're not white anymore, and he's bleach-washed them SO many times that they permanently smell like chemicals. - The laces are frayed, so bad that he doesn’t even wear the laces most days. - Tommy doesn't shy from going in mud or water though, he'll wear the shoes to their fullest and then some. - I think you can tell by now, that Tommy just doesn’t come from a lot of money. - They live in a kind of run down town, very poor, old, smallish. - Wilbur is middle class, which is very well off in the area he lives in. - Wilbur gives off family disappointment vibes. Where he has to sneak out at night, Tommy can leave through his front door. - Wilbur calls Tommy “sunshine”, but very sarcastically since Tommy is a dick :) - Tommy has one of Wilbur's old beanies; it's black and monster branded, the monster logo is green - Wilbur gave it to Tommy 3 years ago, and Tommy never gave it back - btw Tommy's 17 and Wilbur's 19: Tommy's a junior and Wilbur's a senior - Wilbur only drinks Green Apple Monster - Tommy drinks sugar free redbull, but mostly only when Wilbur buys it for him, because Tommy usually doesn't have pocket change - Wilbur and Tommy bring speakers to the train tracks and dance and by that, its them jumping around and occasionally pushing someone over - Tommy uses his allowance to buy cigarettes; Wilbur vapes - both mentally ill - Wilbur is essentially the modern emo. He has this one yellow and black flannel that's oversized, and he wears it multiple times a week - it’s a problem.

- Dream, Wilbur, Karl, Tommy, Big Q, SapNap, Punz, and Tubbo - That’s the group. - I have just been talking about Tommy and Wilbur but they are the main characters so you can suck it. - A scene with Dream, Wilbur, Karl, Tommy, Big Q, SapNap, Punz, and Tubbo, at a lake, throwing each other in, and Tommy gets his shoes soaked, but he saves his jacket from the fall. Water gun fights, and they drink energy drinks and eat chips. they lay in the grass and contemplate life, Talk abt life yes. Abt existence. Abt how shit it is. Half of them have to wake up early and sneak home, the other half get to stay as long as they like. - Tommy tucks his t-shirts into his pants, which are always very baggy black jeans with just gigantic holes. - Tommy and Dream both have ADHD, however, Tommy's meds are purely from welfare, he cannot afford to give any out. Dream however? From an upper-middleclass family. Basically millionaires in this town. He can afford to lose some of his meds. - He yells in the clearing "COME GET YOUR DRUGS CHILDREN" - Besides, I've learned that there are like so many different ADHD meds, and maybe Tommy is just on something a lot stronger than adderall. He can't partake in the pill popping, but he doesn't mind. He does it every morning. - They don't do it often, maybe once a month, depends on how big Dream's prescription is - not that he regularly takes them like a good boy should - And I won't ever write this, but Gogy hangs out with them every so often, in which Gogy and Wilbur have an on and off again hooking up type relationship - whenever they hang out, Gogy like sits and Wilbur's lap and shit - Tommy and Punz GAG - "EW the fuck - get your hands off eachother. ITS GROSS - NO PDA IN MY BACKYARD"

- They hang out in an abandoned Building. But they don't try to fix it up. They're not fucking VSCO girls. They just want somewhere to hang out - If anything they make it worse - they fucking trash the place - It’s not intentional though - It’s like they can have fun without worrying abt the mess - just, sometimes they spill hawiian punch mixed with vodka everywhere - THEY GHOST HUNT AND OUIJA BOARD AND SHIT - They hang out in cemeteries too. they play manhunt in a cemetery, but like the regular version- like just hide and go seek in the dark. - they've done seances even though almost all of them are atheists - anyways the point of the fact is, is that half of them (excluding the minors you know) I'm looking at you Karl and Q - somethings going on between you two have made out with guys, and I'm not gonna sugar coat it, most modern like takes on religion do not take kindly to that

- they go to prom - and Dream somehow ends up with a ton of weed, because he had just turned old enough, and had the money - and they get fucking high OUT of their minds, like they're never doing it again - like, George and Wilbur definitely hooked up at Wilbur's house, which they aren't supposed to do - because Wilbur's parents will fucking flip that Wilbur is sleeping with a random person. No one is quite sure where SapNap ended up, and Tommy lost one of his shoes. In a panic, they spent the next 3 hours looking for it to find it at the lake by the school - Tommy fucking cradles it to his chest. -  (are wilburs parents homophobic?) (yes maybe a little side of homophobia) (Is wilbur bisexual or gay?) (he is ‘whoever the fuck looks bangable’) (fair enough) (he is ‘gogy my king’) (TRUUUE) - the bleachers - they hang out under the bleachers

- Gogy = Stylish stoner - very popular, but never not high - Karl is like the goody two-shoes of the group, doesn't skip class, and is on the principals list, however, he will NEVER back down from space brownies - its his weakness - Tubbo has a subway pass, and they do that thing where Tubbo swipes it and everyone fucking bolts into the subway, and they take all the trains at like 4am and just hang from the bars and shit - Wilbur still dresses relatively like, nicely and scholarly, which puts everyone off. He wears very loose sweaters with button-ups underneath. with khakis or black jeans and his docs - where his best friend, our Tommy, wears borderline yellow converse, and one bleached two-sizes-too-large jean jacket, and some second-hand-store hoodies, that are always a bit too worn in, but so, incredibly Tommy - Tommy who legit hasn't brushed his hair in years, not with a brush anyways - too frantic to brush his teeth most mornings. but always chewing gum; Tommy's always everywhere at once - ADHD meds only half-working on him, they couldn't afford the good shit - He'll never quite understand Dream handing out his adderall for free, Tommy would kill for the hard shit, but hey, he's never gonna stop his friends from having a good time

- Let's talk about Karl Jacobs - good ole' goody two shoes Jacobs - all of his teachers are constantly trying to get him to stop hanging out with Tommy and gang - every parent teacher conference is "we love your boy, but we are concerned about his friends" - Teachers have meetings with him, about how the people you surround yourself with can change your future - Karl's like, from the good side of town, plays first in the drumline, plays violin on the side, straight a's, clean-white-air-force-ones type of guy. Name brand clothes. Combed hair - Packed lunch every day from his mom; gets dropped off by his mom, kisses her goodbye; Mom is like very involved in school too - PTA parent - it's fucking good kid Jacobs - and he's sneaking off with fucking potheads to go to college parties and abandoned buildings - Does he do drugs? Well, he’s a big fan of treats if you know what I mean :wink wink: - ….you ever see Ted's video about a 500mg edible …. yeah. - big fan of gummy bears and brownies - Karl shows up to Parties and there are shouts of "Fuckin' goody-two-shoes Jacobs is HERE" - a lot of people make fun of him and think they can push him around - He seems like a softie; welcome mat type beat - but fucking watch this man chug 5 cups of whatever you give him, and then still win beer pong - Like his best friend is fucking quackity, he can do the hard shit - its very much a his parents have no clue who he actually is type beat - Look, his parents have no clue where he is ever - And if they even know he’s out, they don’t know where or with who - If his mom is at all involved in the school, she'll hear about Quackity, basically a drug dealer with how much hash weed he hands out on a daily basis. - Tommy has to be contained in order for the school to run smoothly, and Wilbur is a dramatic fuck that sleeps through most of his classes - Tommy has to take frequent breaks - They make him spend 3rd period in the principles office - Like he obviously needs help but he can’t afford it at all. Even the school can’t do anything for him bc he can’t get anything official for himself - like he can't even try to concentrate - He gave up so quickly in high school, bc they don’t have enough time or staff to help him - he tried in middle school - but man, did he give up in highschool - Yeah. He knows it is hopeless. Can't even afford college anyway. he'll just do whatever Wilbur does - here's an idea: Fucking Karl Jacobs showing up to school one morning just absolutely hammered out of his mind - Karl just showing up to first period AP Physics, and he's barely awake, honestly smells so much like weed and booze, and if he breathed anywhere near you, you could just feel the alcohol radiating from his breath - He's extra bubbly, laughs at everything - takes out his notebook to take some sort of notes, and just fucking giggles at the shapes and equations. He is very spacy, he clearly stayed up all night doing something very illegal; he gets up and jumps around. 2nd period band? oh boy - He gets sick at lunch bet - Like everyone got Drunk but Karl got FUCKED up - It was his birthday, bet - He took like 17 shots over the course of like 8 - 12ish hours, and I looked it up, despite karl being super scrawny and probably like 140 - 150ish pounds - which isn't a lot for being 5'11 - will not kill him - BECAUSE, you guessed it, he turned 17 - He didn't sleep, he was awake taking shots and just fucking who knows what until 6am when they stumbled to school - at lunch, 11:30 in the morning - he's head down on the table, miserable - he doesn't have a hangover yet, because it's only been a few hours, but man, is he nauseous - just the smell of food makes his stomach churn - and the thing about fucking Jacobs showing up drunk as hell - is that at least one of his teachers has called his mom about it - SHES PRESIDENT OF THE PTA FOR FUCKS SAKE, ONE OF THEM KNOWS HER - And the teachers aren't stupid, Karl is so obviously drunk - generally Karl is pretty quiet in class; but now he has no distinction between hanging with hs friends and being in class - he's shouting and cracking jokes and is very tempted to kick his chair over - Anyways, Karl fucks himself over, end of story  - ONTO PUNZ’S RELGIEOUS TRAUMA WOOOOOOOOOOOO - It's Punz - fuckin' golden boy Punz; he plays football; and goes to church; and calls his mother "momma"; wears a nice church outfit; and is polite to the bible study mothers that come over on tuesday nights and gets them drinks - just a fuckin' golden boy - A religious family. Go to church every Sunday. Sunday school. Holidays. But. The kid just realizes that they don’t believe in god. Them telling the group like they’re high and he’s like “you know? Some of the shit that’s happened to us proves to me that god rlly isn’t real.” - and Punz like prays every day for Tommy's dad to get his job back; or for Gogy to get better parents; or for Karl to live the life he wants; and NOTHING EVER WORKS. THEY'RE ALL STILL FUCKED. - by the way we will get the the Tommy's dad losing his job later - But Punz's life is controlled by something he doesn't even believe in anymore - because he's still going to the like church breakfasts, and christmas service, and every sunday morning, and helping his mom's ladies bible study, and his parents are talking about sending him to a youth bible camp - - and he doesn't even think he believes in god anymore. - Punz kind of took out his own personal, religious, and family struggles out the way most teenage boys do. Drinking, and lots of sex. - SO I just imagined this like, really dramatic moment, where its the morning after Punz had a one night stand at some sort of party down the street, and he's long past saving his virginity for his wife, but he's buying her the morning after pill, which his church is just so against, and he has like the moment of, "if you do this, you're done." and he does it - he's had a couple of those moments, like, when he first had sex, and when he first smoked weed, or popped a pill, or snuck out at night, or skipped church - but that was the moment of "there is no going back" - like any type of drug or procedure that aborts an embryo, or that blocks fertilization thats already in process in like: the biggest no no in his church community - so once he stepped out of that drug store, he kind of took a breath, and just came to terms with it - "I'm an atheist." - Punz is the pastors son. - he's like, pre-commited to a catholic college - he’s in deep. - so when he first announces it to his friends, one really late night, "I think god might not be my thing." - they just start whistling and say "FINALLY, THE PASTORS SON HAS TURNED AROUND." - Dream just like turns over to him "how many chicks did you fuck to make you realize that?" - Tommy just slings his arm over Punz, "I'm glad you've quit the Jesus shit, Punz. Your better than it." - There’s gotta be this girl ok. He rlly rlly wants to have sex with her but he always backs out. The thing that breaks him. Is that he gets drunk and loses his virginity to someone who is not that girl - like, he likes this girl, and has a good connection with her, and she likes him, and he knows that its gonna be comepletly consentual, and she's like fucking beautiful right? - and she's the one he wants to loose it to and he's a stupid fucking idiot and loses it to some fucking random ass chick that doesn't even go to their school - This triggers a spiral. After that? He slowly starts giving less of a fuck abt everything. He fucked up the one thing you can’t do over and god he’s so painfully aware of it and so painfully aware that he didn’t even fuck up right. - You’re supposed to wait till marriage. Nope. You’re supposed to do it with someone you love and trust. Double nope. He. Fucked. Up. - its just like he wanted to do something bad. he wanted to fuck something up. he was questioning his faith, his like, great and sturdy and always-there faith for the first time, and what better way to test faith than to do something shitty and see what comes of it. and so he was planning and planning and planning how he was gonna do this terrible thing - which is such a good kid thing to do, to put so much thought into your own rebellion - but he wanted this to go perfectly. - Little Pastors Son, Punz, wasn't gonna wait till marriage. - He was gonna have sex with the girl of his dreams before they were even dating - but man did he like her. Did he want her. - And then he fucked some random girl when he was black out drunk. He's fucked everything up - he can't wash this away with confession - he's tainted. He's dirty. - He looks in the mirror and doesn't recognize the heathen staring back. - He hates who he's become. - But he never goes back - he can't. He's dirty. He's wrong. - but the more he goes down the spiral - the more he realizes that one mistake shouldn't have made him feel like that - that if god was real, which he honestly wasn't sure in that department, he wouldn't want Punz to feel like the scum of the earth for doing something wrong. especially when he felt so bad after he did it. This system was fucked. He didn't want to be apart of another cycle - and he's just lying to himself every time he goes to church, and reads a cerse for his mom, and meets with younger kids at the church, and plays flag football with fucking church virgins who are good catholics and follow all their mommas orders - And every night when he says grace he means it less and less. he always does it when his momma asks, but boy does the lords word mean shit to him anymore From Ethan: - A turning point to the others in Punz's breakaway from Catholicism is like - He prays before he eats, usually. Sometimes they wait for him to finish his prayer before eating themselves, just out of politeness. He's a friend, he gets that shred of etiquette - And then one day he just doesn't. They got some fast food for a whole group dinner out at their hangout spot (a warehouse, did you say??) Tommy is staring at it intently but he waits for Punz to pray. Tubbo's already started eating but the rest wait - And Punz just starts eating - Dream nudges him, "No prayer, Pastor's boy?" - "No prayer," Punz mumbles into his food. "I'm trying something new." SO, TOMMYS DAD LOSING HIS JOB ARC W000000000 - it starts with Tommy showing up in a different jacket one day - like you have to understand, he's worn this jean jacket every single day for as long as WIlbur has known him, which is like 6 years - Like Tommy shows up in this giant, khaki work-jacket and it's his dads... - HIS DAD DIDNT DIE - his dad lost his job, which is essentially death to a family who already couldn't sustain themselves - and Tommy shows up to school, face pale and cheeks sunk in and there are visible bags under his eyes - and Wilbur just rushes over immediately and hugs him so tight to his chest - and Tommy just sobs, "pops lost his job -" gasp "I can't - we can't pay the bills this month. everything - its all falling apart Will." - "Hey - hey. Stop. It's gonna be fine. You're gonna be okay. You always are dude." - Tommy does have to get a job - and he probably does drop out of school unofficially, like he just stops going. - he sleeps during the morning classes, and heads into work at 10am - he's a carpenters assistant. it pays well as they need young, able men. but most of the younger citizens in the town go to school - he has to take the day shift because the day shift pays better - he doesn't mind it, he doesn't - it gives him the opportunity to get all of his energy out; but he misses going to school. as much as he hated it, he misses his friends. - and lets be honest, its hard as fuck for his dad to find a new job, he doesn't have a great resume - he didn't graduate from highschool. and he isn;t in top health condition, he definitely doesn't have health insurance - so Tommys stuck with this job for a long time - his dad uses his last paycheck to buy Tommy workboots so tommy feels in debt to him - He’ll get his GED eventually. - I think - The like religious status of the rest of the group brought to you by me - Everyone who I don’t mention is just a hard atheist - Karl and Wilbur are catholic, but to a lesser extent, Wilbur doesn't really go through with lent, and Karl only sometimes does. They go to a different church and go pretty much on holidays only, a sunday a month maybe. - SapNap goes to Punz's church, they've been friends for years. - He goes to sunday school but misses a lot of sermons because of his siblings sports games. - He is involved, but not to the way Punz is - SapNap's mother is in fact in Punz's moms bible group - Punz sometimes doesnt attend the bible group and Sap's mother is all "now you tell that pastor's boy to actually attend next time, got it?" and Sapnap dies a little on the inside - And George is an orthodox christian, but he's pretty much quit due to the blatant homophobia he's seen at his church. 

AND NOW ON WILBUR SOOT AND KARL JACOBS AND BARKING - Wilbur has siblings, fun fact - that we will never talk about or address - but definitely nothing like Wilbur, more the Karl Jacobs type - Wilbur is the oldest. he's always lectured about being 'a good influence on your brother and sister.' - They’re big sports kids. Softball and Basketball (tall genes). Straight Bs; Bed by 10pm; Have never missed school - Parents pride and joy :) - Just good suburban kids, Have friends next door, help the neighbors, attend the cul-de-sac barbecues. - Basically who Wilbur used to be up until highschool (until Wilbur met weed and a good group of stoners) - Sure he was a disappointment and he had no clue what to do with his life - But he was happier - Never really liked being the goody- two-shoes boy next door, he doesn't know how karl does it “Playing good boy like a dog” - Also he used dog terms around Karl - Because he’s “Playing good boy like a dog” - He’ll throw Karl a beer and smile “go fetch” - He laughs so hard when he sees Karl be good in a class or play it up for his parents; Because Wilbur’s so past trying - Wilbur will walk by and just bark at karl. Bet. Just Growls lowly; Walks in a  circle; Anything to make Karl’s parents (or Wilbur’s own) stare at him and scurry away - Karl’s parents push Karl forward and like hold their younger kids close to their chest, whispering “keep close, don’t look at him” - They tell Karl to stay away from kids like him. - And boy do Wilbur’s pa#rents hate it, They push him along and whisper yell at him As he throws his head back and cackles - I mean imagine, like a stereotypical middle class suburban family: House wife, blue collared father, Two kids; in sports jerseys, Girl in braids, boy in khakis - And then there’s Wilbur: Doc Martins, black jeans, collar and sweater, beanie. Definitely high on something - Chains LOTS OF CHAINS - And he's Barking. Fucking Barking At the nice family down the street - And then he takes out his vape right in front of his parents and silently offers Karl a hit with a smirk - Cause Karl’s too busy playing good boy - And as Karl’s family looks back, as Wilbur is corralled by his mom - He flips them off with the biggest smirk uou will ever see - Wilbur's kind of an ass - And Karl really wants a hit of that vape.

The Horsewoman

Summary: 1913 in the Little Lady Blinder universe. Shelby sister, Clara, and her twin are ready to start school, but Clara is a bit hesitant. Thankfully, her older brother knows how to negotiate.

Inspired by this request: Could you write about the twins first day at school? Like Clara is scared but Finn is excited. And because they didn’t have much money they’ve saved for a while to get them new clothes just for school and Tommy helps them get ready and drops them off for there first day x

Featuring: Tommy Shelby, Finn Shelby, Polly Gray, and Clara Shelby (OC)

Tommy was awake and had been for some time now, going back and forth between reading and watching his little sister rest. Her features had finally smoothed out, her face relaxed in a way that only came with a lack of consciousness, the small wrinkle of worry taking up seemingly permanent residence on her forehead cleared away now as slow, easy breaths fell from her mouth.

Clara had climbed into his bed a little before sundown the evening before, burrowing herself in the blankets after claiming an upset stomach and abstaining from dinner. She passed more than half the night awake, her restless body nestled up beside her brother while he too failed to get much by the way of sleep, kept alert by the five-year-old's nervous energy.

Clara's agitation about starting school wasn't something quite congruous with the child she'd come to be understood as. She loved books and learning and was obviously bright. She commonly forced her twin into playing at schoolhouse, so the family was rightfully perplexed. Tommy wasn't so surprised by it though. He knew there was something they were all missing, something about school Clara was fixating on, focusing all her energies on some troubling thought she hadn't worked up the nerve to discuss.

The shift happened when they told her the twins would be enrolled in the next coming school year. If he didn't know the girl better, he'd have called her behavior a sudden disinterest in the idea of school and learning, but Tommy knew she had not spared a thought to anything else during the last few weeks of summer.

Tommy glanced up at a light rapping on the door, Finn pushing it open before he could offer a response. The boy was in his new school outfit, quite a sight considering he spent most of his days covered in a layer of dirt and dust after playing out on the lane.

"She's still asleep?" Finn's words came out as a half-whisper as he noted the lump of blankets on the far side of his brother's bed.

Tommy nodded, glancing down at Clara for a second before looking back to his little brother, a mess of laces tucked into the side of his boot. Tommy beckoned him forward, patting the chair sat beside his bed. Finn would need to learn to tie them for himself soon, though Tommy supposed with the twins being in the same class, he'd get by alright with his sister doing any needed midday shoe tying.

"Aunt Polly says if Clara doesn't come down now she won't get any breakfast." Finn still attempted a whisper, carefully annunciating Polly's message as he lifted his feet to rest on Tommy's lap to deal with the laces.

Tommy looked to his sister again, certain Finn's attempts at whispering would have woken her by now. Clara’s deep breaths had ceased and she laid beside him completely still, her body gripped in an unnerving rigidity. He could see the effort she put into holding her eyes shut, the small wrinkle firmly back in place between her furrowed brows.

"Is she still sick?" Finn asked when Tommy lowered Finn's feet. 

As Finn leaned over his brother to get a better look at his sister, Tommy thought Finn could be right. Clara might be making herself sick over the whole thing, turning over some small misunderstanding in her mind.

"Worried sick, maybe," Tommy answered.

Clara remained still against him though a muscle in her cheek twitched at his words. Tommy snorted lightly before turning back to Finn.

"What's she worried about? It's just school. Everyone from the lane will be there."

Clara shifted under the blankets, moving them up and over her shoulder as she burrowed further still into Tommy's side. He sighed and shook her shoulder. "Alright there, Clara girl. Time to get up."

When she ignored the prompting, Finn reached over Tommy, his pointer finger extended with every intention of pushing one of his sister's eyes open to help her along, but Tommy nudged Finn's pudgy hand away before he could make contact.

"C'mon, Clara. I know you're awake."

Clara shook her head and Tommy scoffed, pulling her onto his lap as he leaned against the wall.

"We can't have you going to school hungry," Tommy said.

"Aunt Polly made a special breakfast."

"See that? Finn says you've got a special breakfast waiting."

"Not hungry," Clara mumbled.

Tommy knew she had to be hungry after missing dinner, but rather than showing any desire to head down the stairs, Clara settled in his lap, pulling the blankets up to cover herself once again and hiding against his chest. Tommy tried again to pull her out of hiding with a different line of discussion.

"Doesn't Finn look nice in his new outfit?"

Clara glanced at her twin and nodded. She had an outfit of her own to get into, something Ada helped pick out, an outfit Clara showed little interest in though it was a red dress she’d usually be eager to get into. Tommy had a feeling it had less to do with preferences and more to do with whatever Clara was worrying on about school.

"Finn, why don't you run and tell Aunt Polly Clara will be right down, eh?"

Clara snuggled in again as Finn closed the door.

"I don't wanna go."

"Sure you do," Tommy answered, "You've got your new dress and you'll be with Finn and –"

"I wanna stay with you."

"What about Finn?"

"Finn has friends."

"Then you have friends too," Tommy answered.

Clara shook her head and Tommy amended his words. "Then you have your brother, and you'll make friends."

Clara released her grip on Tommy intending to slip back into her spot between him and the wall but Tommy caught her and towed her back into his lap.

Clara was a kind child, pleasant and clever, but she also kept to herself and her family more often than not. She didn't relish spending her days out on the lane with the other kids and when booted out of the house for some air, she'd more often than not spend that time on the stoop drawing or reading or practicing her writing. Rather than chase a ball about or get up to the mischief of the day, she liked to follow her siblings and aunt around. She liked to help with Martha and John's babies. She liked to go to the yard and be with the horses. She didn't have a hoard of friends from the lane like Finn did.

"You've got to go to school. And before you go, you've got to eat a good breakfast, and Ada will—"

"But I don’t want to," Clara answered, settling against his chest.

"Well, we all have to do things we don't want to, eh?"

Clara shook her head. "You get to do what you want."

Tommy considered how it must have looked that way to the five-year-old. It must've looked like everyone other than her and Finn had free rein to do as they pleased because they all came and went through the doors of no. 6 Watery Lane as such. Tommy passed his days interchangeably between the shop and the horses, stopping in to play with the twins at seemingly random intervals, devoting his evenings to Greta Jurossi.

"Well, that's 'cause I already finished school."

Clara groaned, sensing the impending defeat, and with Tommy's hands reaching for her sides, she knew he was about to peel her away so she gripped him a bit tighter.

"Alright, how about this? I'll make you a deal. You go to school for one…" Tommy smiled at his sister's pout before continuing. "You give me one day and if you hate it, you never have to go again."

Clara lifted her head. "Never?"

Tommy nodded. It was a lie because she'd need some type of education lest they wanted the parish to descend upon them for lack of attendance, but Tommy wasn't concerned his sister would actually take him up on the offer.

"If you've had the most terrible day and you never want to go back or learn another thing ever again, you can come help me and Curly with the horses for the rest of your life. You’ll be the third-best horseman in England."

"Horsewoman," Clara mumbled.

"What?"

"I'll be a horsewoman."

"Of course," Tommy said. "The very best horsewoman in all of England, then, but you have to try school first."

Tommy's offer allowed him to lift Clara from the bed with minimal argument though she kept her arms latched around his neck as he carried her down the stairs to settle at the table. 

Polly rolled her eyes at the spectacle and tried to usher her niece off Tommy's lap, but Clara stayed put, ignoring her aunt's protests as she took a piece of toast from the plate Polly set before them. It was clearly intended for Tommy, another smaller portion placed one spot over.

"You won't be able to bring your brother with you to school, so you may as well get used to sitting in your own seat now."

Tommy leaned forward to pull the second plate closer and retrieved a piece of toast for himself while Clara tucked into his eggs. "She's not hurting any—"

"Aunt Polly, you're wrong. I am bringing my brother to school," Clara answered, mouth full of food as she pointed at Finn. Polly rolled her eyes before the girl continued. "And Tommy says I only have to go to school for just one day and then I get to be a horsewoman with him and Curly forever."

Tommy coughed on a bit of toast as she said it. He really shouldn't have been surprised, should have expected his sister to air the remark at the first opportunity. She seemed to take a great satisfaction in telling the world all the things her big brother told her he could be, all the things he promised to teach her.

Polly scowled at her nephew, shaking her head. "Well, that's just wonderful, Thomas. Fill her mind with—"

"It's only if she doesn't like it, Pol."

"Only if she doesn't—" Polly scoffed, tossing her hands up before busying herself with the dirty dishes on the table, muttering as she went. "Makes me wonder who really runs this family… the adults or a pair of spoiled five-year-olds?"

Tommy took a breath, meeting each of the twins' eyes in turn as Polly took the dirty dishes to the kitchen. They giggled as Clara continued munching on her toast, the laughter stopping abruptly when Polly stepped back into the room.

"Well, regardless of any deals you've made with your brother, you're due to school this morning. So be off and up the stairs if you're finished. Ada will help you get dressed."

"Ada's still in bed," Finn offered, "Said she doesn't have to be up 'cause she's got her certificate now."

Polly groaned, tugging Clara from Tommy's lap and sending her towards the stairs. "Just when I think it's only the boys I have worrying me, you girls decide to kick off."

Tommy pushed his chair back and stood up. "Let Ada sleep."

Polly's eyebrows raised. "You're going to get your sister ready for school?"

"I'm not a baby. I can dress myself,” Clara said.

“There you have it, Polly. She’s not a baby. She can dress herself," Tommy answered.

“Fine, just make sure it’s done in the next five minutes. I want all three of you out the door by then.” 

They were actually ready to be out the door in under four minutes, but Polly took fault with the state in which Tommy left his sister’s hair so they all waited while Polly put in a neat plait down the girl’s back.

The walk to the schoolhouse wasn’t so long, and by the time Tommy and the twins reached the end of Watery Lane, they were joined by a smattering of the younger kids living along the way, the group of them chattering excitedly with Finn.

Clara deliberately slowed their pace, putting a thoughtful measure of distance between them and the kids. Tommy allowed it, shortening his strides to keep them back. He thought she had something to tell him, but Clara stayed quiet, watching Finn and the other kids and listening to them chattering away.

It was only when they were just outside the schoolyard that Clara finally found her words, tugging on his hand to garner his attention.

"Tommy?" she asked. “What's the catch?”

Tommy looked down at her, neat and prim and proper in her new dress, looking more like she belonged at home with a governess than the crowded classroom she would soon find herself in. "The catch?"

“If I don’t go to school and be a horsewoman instead,” she said, “What’s the catch?”

Clara knew there was good and bad to everything and she had been thinking about the question from the moment they stepped onto Watery Lane, wondering what could be bad about spending her life with the horses and her brother. She knew he came home dirty and tired, but whenever they went to the yard, he seemed happy. 

Tommy smiled, lifting her into his arms. "Hard work, my girl, but you've got that either way. Just have to decide if you want to be mucking stalls or reading books."

Tommy saw the teacher at the steps, saw Finn already off with his friends from the lane, but he offered Clara a few more moments in his arms. He searched for a few words to encourage her before setting her feet to the pavement, but as the teacher rang the bell, the sound still invoking something in Tommy though he’d been out of school for years, Finn raced to their side and reached a hand up towards his sister.

"C'mon, Clara."

Tommy let Clara down when she clasped Finn's outstretched hand, her grip on Tommy lasting just a moment past her sliding down his side. It was a mix of relief and sadness Tommy felt when Clara let him go, his girl taking the hand of another brother for support, the babies embarking on a new adventure all of their own.

Tommy watched them make their way through the schoolyard, already decided that he wouldn't step away until they were safely beyond the heavy wooden doors. They were nearly through it, already offering their greetings to the young teacher ringing the bell when Clara dropped Finn’s hand and raced down the steps, making it back to him in less than half the time it took to get to the door.

Tommy kneeled down to meet her. He had the words prepared now, had finally found the right message to send her on her way, but Clara interrupted him before he got a proper start, whispering into the crook of his neck as she wrapped her arms around him.

"Can I still be a horsewoman with you even if I like school?"

Tommy grinned and pulled back to look into her eyes. "You can be whatever you'd like, but if you don't get up those steps with Finn, the first thing you'll be is late."

Clara hugged her brother again before sprinting back towards the school. Tommy knew it was unlikely his sister would be a horsewoman or a lady barber or any of the number of occupations she'd asked after, but Tommy didn’t have it in him to deny his sister that happiness. He decided long ago not to deny either of the twins that if he could help it. 

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Read more Little Lady Blinder here.

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🏷:

@beautycinders​​ @buckybluebarnes (can’t tag) @cecii22me​​ @lovemissyhoneybee​​ @marquelapage​​ @midnight-dreams-23​​ @mo-onstarrs​​ @ohhersheybars​​ @pollyrepents​​ @unicorndetective22 (can’t tag)

if you're willing, i have a prompt i'd like to see you write maybe, if you want!

bench trio focused fic, with lee!tommy and ler!tubbo and ranboo! tommy's just feeling a mixture of bored and sad, and he keeps getting lost in his thoughts, which never turns out well. so he goes to tubbo and ranboo to hang out with them, which they're fine with. but they suggest like, doing something simple, and while tommy would usually be fine with that, it gives him too much time to think.

so he starts harassing tubbo and ranboo, trying to get them to distract him without saying that At All. and one (or both) of them gets fed up with tommy and tickles him a Little Bit to get him to stop. and tommy realizes that like... while he's being tickled, he's not Thinking! and it's always been comforting and nice and everything but he really just wants to stop thinking and lose himself to tickling.

so he keeps provoking, trying to get what he wants. but his friends keep stopping just as he starts to reach the point without thinking, and it's infuriating to tommy. so after they back off like the fifth time, tommy groans loudly, like. visibly frustrated. maybe crying a little. and tubbo and ranboo are worried, because they didn't think they went too far, but he's upset, but they thought he liked gentle tickles, but --

and tommy just forces himself to explain. poorly, because he can't say the t-word, and doesn't want to actually fully ask for it, but he's like "i don't want to think! i don't want to be thinking!!" and tubbo and ranboo are like ;-; and agree to just annihilate him. like "oh, tommy, don't worry... we'll tickle you until you forget your own name~" and decimate him. and tommy just loses himself to the tickly haze and teasing and eventually after a while he taps out, and they cuddle and he feels safe and head foggy and it's. soft.

fhsjjd that's a lot and i'm very sorry, but i am just. feeling so much. these guys make me so soft i am... yes.... fjsjjf your writing is so good thank u for my life!! ~🍄

I simplified this prompt quite a bit, haha. Bird tried their best. Hope you like it. (Bird is very tired. If this doesn’t make sense, please blame the monster energy.)

Bench trio focused fic- tommy is sad-bored and wants a distraction ft clueless!beeduo

Tick. Tock. The sound of Tommy’s clock pierced the silence of his house. The noise of the old redstone contraption chafed at his already waning sanity, making the boy growl lowly under his breath. The soft screeching of the rusty mechanical parts made him feel as if his entire body was on edge, tense like a bowstring pulled taut before a duel. He sighed in frustration, throwing his bedcovers to the side and pulling himself out of the warm bedsheets. He snatched a torch from the outside of his house and walked outside, wobbling a little on his feet from the speed at which he moved. He yawned loudly, searching for his two closest friends through his bleary eyes.

“Tubbo? Ranboo? I’m bored, come on!” He grumbled to himself, walking slowly on the wooden walkways as to not make his head swim anymore. His mind filled with traitorous thoughts again, unintentional consequences of being a big man like him. ‘They’ve probably left you. Tubbo loves Ranboo more than you. They are platonically married. You are an outsider. Outsider. Outsider. Outsider…’ He shook his head, dirty blonde locks flopping from side to side and sticking to his face a little as he did so. ‘I can’t think like this. They like me a lot, I know it! They’re probably working on the mansion-’ ‘Yeah, working on the mansion. Without you. Can’t you see it, Tommy? They’re doing it without you. You’re worthless to them. Worthless.’ “Shut up, shut up!” He clutched at his head. His fingers dug deep into his hair, scraping roughly at his scalp. “Shut the fuck up!”

He sunk to one knee, struggling to ignore the whispers and hisses of ‘liar’ and ‘traitor’ in a familiar, mocking voice. He focused on the sound of the birds chirping in the background. The birdsong sounded lyrical, beautiful. Like the sound of his discs. The discs….Did he remember what they sounded like? What did they sound like? The gap in memory made his head hurt even more. ‘I need to find out what they sound like again, I want to know. I need to get to Big T. He knows.’ He put his hands on the ground, wincing at the feeling of small splinters digging into the palms of his hands. He pushed. He felt the air on his back as he got up, shaky on his feet again.

Swears filled the air as he forced his body to move faster than he normally would on a lazy Sunday. His legs ached. Everything ached. Why did it ache again? He didn’t know. He wanted Tubbo. The feelings of melancholy boredom spread to the whole of the server. The bees buzzed quietly, lazing about on the branches of the trees. The plants swayed as if molasses had covered their leaves, dripping smoothly down onto the dirt and made patterns as the cold winds blew them around. The autumn sky, gold and rose and yellow from the rays of the sun that beamed directly overhead, seemed to be an endless canvas that Tommy could not reach, could not touch with his small, battered hands. He exhaled shakily as he ran, footsteps thudding solidly as old, weather shoes made contact with the wood. He ran through fields and flora, looking for familiar ram horns, for familiar black and white skin with the glimmer of a tarnished crown.

Time went by, and he slowed back down to a jog, searching as well as he could through the dense forests he wandered into. “Tubbo? Big T?” He called through his quiet wheezing. “Where are you guys?” The forest did not answer. The trees closed in on him. He curled up on the floor, pulling his bandana over his eyes a little. The fabric became damp. Soft grass hugged him slightly, clinging on to his damp skin as he shivered. He whimpered, curling in on himself more as a chilling wind howled by his face through the trees. “Ranboo….Tubbo..anyone?” His voice was nothing but a whisper now, barely audible through the rustling of the trees. Trembling violently, he cried softly.

“Tommy? Tommy!”

And there was light. He shot upright, gasping for breath. His hair stayed plastered to his face, mussed up and stringy from sweat. He looked through the tangle to see a familiar concerned face. “Tubbo.” “Big T, you were shaking all around! It was so scary! Are you okay?” He nodded, sighing in relief. He pushed his hair aside, sky blue eyes piercingly bright for someone who just woke up. “What happened?” Tubbo tapped his hoof on the ground nervously. He looked at the floor sheepishly, muttering a little under his breath. A moment passed. “Well, you see...we- um…” The glint of a crown caught Tommy’s eye at the doorway.

“We found you passed out in one of the dark oak forests. We weren’t sure what you were doing, but we didn’t think it was safe to leave you out there.” His breath caught. His voice squeaked a little when he spoke. “O-oh.” Much to his comfort, Ranboo said nothing, deciding to arrange some of the books on the shelf. Tommy scanned the room a little, taking in his surroundings a little more. The room looked empty, for the most parts. Things were scattered throughout the area, save for the bed underneath him, which seemed to be..seemed..to..be… “Is this your guys’s bed?!?”

Tubbo and Ranboo burst into raucous laughter. Tubbo sank to the floor, hiccuping slightly and wagging his little tail a mile a minute. Ranboo held it together a little better, hiding his chuckles behind a half-gloved hand. “Pff..yeah. Want to help me organize these books? We need some help putting them in order. And after this, we may need some help furnishing the place.” Tommy nodded. After all, he did end up intruding on them. It would be rude not to return the favor. He carefully extracted himself from the bed, slipping on his shoes haphazardly in a bid to follow him out the door. He hopped on one foot, cursing, as one of the shoes slipped off, obviously requiring some form of lace tying. Ranboo snorted quietly at the boy’s struggle, tails whisking elegantly in his wake. He stepped carefully down the stairs, avoiding the rougher parts of the unpolished stones and wood. He traced the railings with his hand, claws scraping lightly over the waxy coating. As he turned to look at the carvings and smooth wood, Tommy saw a glint of gold on his pitch-colored horn.

A feeling of slight jealousy twinged gently in his chest. He sneered internally at it, batting at it like a younger sibling. ‘Tubbo had his reasons to marry him. It’s not my business.’ His inner voice said otherwise. It whispered hauntingly into his ear. ‘But it is! Tubbo’s your best friend, is he not? Why did he marry someone else other than you? Did he really like you in the first place? Or was it the discs all-’ He shook his head vehemently. ‘No.’ Ranboo paid him no heed. He was busy, after all. So very busy, cleaning up dust carefully from the corners of the bookshelves further below him. He swiped off a speck of dust off his clothing quickly. “You coming or what?” Tommy nodded, hoping that he saw from their perspective down below. He ran down the stairs quickly, cursing a little when he missed a step or two as he went down. Ranboo watched in amusement, tails sweeping the floor as he waited. All the while, Dream’s voice hissed in his ears. ‘Worthless. Liar. He’s not worth it. Kill him.’

Thankfully for Tommy, he was used to phantoms whispering in his ears. Blatantly ignoring the annoying noise, he glared daggers at the tuxedo-covered back in front of him. ‘How do I get rid of this annoying fuck?’ Ranboo failed to notice his heated gaze. “Help us with these books, will you? Tubbo has been arguing with me about the placement for weeks now.” He kneeled down, coaxing his friend to sit down next to him in the pile of scattered books. Tommy’s mind whirled as he sorted them into differing piles. Tubbo and Ranboo’s voices faded in and out. The only voice he could hear the whole time was Dream. And Dream’s voice said things he really didn’t want to hear. He growled lowly under his breath, hoping that his inner voice would shut itself off.

Tubbo bleated in surprise at the small noise. “Big man, you okay? You haven’t been saying anything.” He poked at his side tentatively with a single finger. He yelped, bolt blue eyes widening in shock at the sudden contact. Tubbo grinned, mischief glimmering deep in his eyes. He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively, pulling his fingers close to himself and forming claws with them. “Oh, Tommy~ I think we could make a little more noise together if I messed with you a wee bit..” Ranboo looked at his platonic husband, then back at the blond-haired boy. “What are we-” And there was the click of recognition. Tommy could recognize that lightbulb moment anywhere. “Oh.” His ears drooped a little, some sort of enderman thing Tommy failed to remember how to translate. He flicked his gaze towards his eyes for the smallest of moments, before looking back down sheepishly. “I-uh, sorry, Ranboo.” The words felt foreign in his mouth. His apology tasted like sawdust, like the breath of a life once forgotten.

He turned away, starting to push himself up. “I’ll see myself out.” A hand grabbed at his shoulder, dulled claws digging in slightly and revealing its owner. “You’re feeling bad.” With a crane of his neck, he saw red-green eyes boring into his soul. “We’re going to help with it, alright?” Ranboo’s voice softened with his grip, waiting for the other’s response. His eyelids fluttered shut without his volition, letting him bask in the blessed darkness for a moment. “If you can.” He was gently brought back down to the ground. He felt himself get draped over someone’s lap, someone gently carding their hands through his hair.

As they did, the strap of Dream’s mask wrapped around his throat. It tightened slowly, stealing his breath, his words. His voice grew near, rough and harsh and tasting like rocks in his mouth when he takes a tumble. He choked on air a little. “Please.” Soft, quiet voices wrapped around him. “Can we start, Toms?” A nod. What else can he say? The pain of speaking was too much. Dream’s wheeze filled his thoughts. He was sinking, sinking...the gentle tracing of a shape on his tummy snapped him back to reality. He opened his eyes blearily, giggling softly. “Hehey…”

“Yes, Toms?” And there he was. Tubbo traced the shape on his tum again, ear twitching as his laughter shifted in intensity and pitch. “Does this make it feel better? I know the voices aren’t making this any easier for you.” He scribbled his fingers over his stomach with the care of a nurse, avoiding the myriad axe scars left from battles with a tyrant he could never win against, not without the rest of the server on his side. “It’s okay, Tommy. Let it out.” He giggled freely, hands coming up to the goat hybrid’s wrists before he could stop them. The young president let them be, choosing to move to his sides and spider his fingers gently over the sensitive skin there.

Tommy bucked softly, trying his best not to dislodge his hands. The feeling helped keep him grounded, just barely. He felt like he was floating, but at least this time he wasn’t floating away. He hung there, frozen in time. The voice had stopped, but he still felt its presence. It sat patiently, waiting for him to fill the holes in his heart with his inventory of memories, tnt in hand. He tensed up, feeling even more helpless than before. Tubbo slowed down, confused. “Do you not want-” “I want- I-I need- “ He stumbled over his words like a child. Frustrated, he tried again. His tongue felt heavy, as if he had swallowed cotton. “I need rougher. Not thinking. Please.” His grip tightened on Tubbo’s wrists. He could feel his friend’s heartbeat, a solid, stable drumming like the march of a thousand men. It sang, like a burbling brook. ‘What do I want?’ His mind felt..wrong. “Please.”

Tubbo complied. “Rougher. Alright. Ranboo?” The enderman vwooped quietly. “Yes?”

“Pin his arms. We need him to be immobilized, he’s a bit of a kicker.” Tommy flushed a little at the statement, mouth opening to retort. Tubbo took the moment to dig into his sides, earning a strangled bark of laughter from his throat. “eHAHA! Tuhubbo!” The hybrid merely flicked his ear at his friend’s words. “Yeah, big man? What do you want, hmm?” Ranboo grabbed at his wrists, pinning them together with one smooth grab. His face burned quietly from the way his claws scratched at his palms unintentionally as he shifted his grip. He turned his head away from the duo, giggles bubbling up from his chest at the embarrassing position. “You ready, Tommlee?”

“Shut the fuHUHUCK UHUP! TUHUHUBBS!” Tubbo wasted no time, pinning him down to the floor with his weight and scribbling his nails over his lower ribs. “Isn’t his tickle laugh so cute, Ranni? It’s so mellow when he’s giggling, but it’s so rough when we’re wrecking his shit!” Ranboo snorted over the din, flicking one of his tails ever so slightly over one of his sides in a low-effort attempt to help his husband. “I mean, that seems pretty normal to me. Imagine having a gentle laugh when you’re being absolutely destroyed.” His deadpan voice hid the faintest trace of a smile in its depths.

Looking at the squirming boy in his hands, he put both of his arms in one hand, using the other to claw at his underarm. Much to his surprise, Tommy squealed loudly, shaking his head vigorously at the sensation. “RAHAHANBOHOO!” He bucked wildly, trying his best to escape the almost torturous feeling in his hollows. Tubbo moved from his lower ribs to his upper ribs, poking and prodding each one to find, as he called it, the ‘scream-button’. Ranboo, emboldened by the blonde’s reaction, rubbed his claws gently over his friend’s neck and ears. He swiped his tail over his exposed tummy and hips, making Tommy squeak through his laughter. “Guhuhuhuhuys- EEE! TUHUBBO, NOHAHAHA!”

Tubbo’s tail wagged happily behind him, shaggy and obviously ungroomed from his incessant cleaning duties in the household. “Found it!” He prodded a spot right beside Tommy’s second and third ribs, scratching lightly at the spot right where the rib bone met the sternum. Tommy all but shrieked in Ranboo’s grasp. The enderman folded back his ears as much as he could, grateful that endermen have the ability to muffle the screams of their own kind (and in turn, other rather loud things that go EEEE in the night).

“So, Tommy, you still hearing them voices?” The blonde shook his head. “NohoHO?!? WAHAHAIT, NAHAHA!” “Tickle tickle! Man, Tommy, you look so cute when you laugh!” His laughter echoed through the mansion, filling each corner and crevice with unbounded joy. Finally, Tommy could take it no longer. He tapped on his arm 3 times, making Tubbo and Ranboo freeze.

Ranboo released his hands as quickly as he could, apologizing when Tommy rubbed at his wrists to get rid of the slight burning sensation deep in the muscles. Sitting up slowly, the blonde panted, smile painted almost permanently on his face. His eyes, dazed but somehow still sharp enough to recognize his two best friend’s equally wide smiles, wandered over the couple’s kneeling forms. Tubbo moved closer to his side, bonking his shoulder playfully with his horns. “So, how’s the voices?”

Tommy looked back at him in blurry-eyed confusion. He tilted his head slightly, matted locks succumbing to gravity ever so slightly. “What voices?” Ranboo chuckled lowly on his other side. “That’s my man.” He slung an arm around his shoulder, purring softly. They sat there in comfortable silence. The sound of wind chimes outside and the gentle crackle of the fireplaces all over the place made the blonde’s eyes close by themselves. He sighed, a noise of contentment in a field of green and blue and yellow and red. “I hope I never wake up from this dream.” And he smiled just a little more when he heard a familiar voice answer, “Me too, Big T.”

“Me too.”