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#lizzie has no business looking like this
p2iimon · 10 days
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drawing more furry fnaf art. yknow just to keep you posted. i love posting in the tags sorry these ones got away from me
#sammy is a brown bear (like freddy). his mom is white like funtime freddy#then crying child is blue (like bon bon. and to go with lizzies bonnet pink) (theyre not twins in my au but they definitely act like it. so#its like cute.) mrs. afton is blue violet (rockstar bonnie) bc i was running out of colors. i had already assigned her blue anyway.#max is black bc i seriously ran out of rabbit colors. or! no wait shadow bonnie. thats totally the inspo and not i had made his ears black#already. i think thats literally every rabbit color available. the afton family is pretty big. ig vanny. who would go with vanessa. obvi bu#shes not in my au. or at least not an afton. and therefore not a rabbit. if she was though shed be white.#and if you havent seen any previously drawn ones henry and william are yellow (obviously. they already have fursonas. theyre the reason#everyone else gets one. LOL) micheals purple like classic bonnie (who... is purple even if it was then retconned. hes purple. look at#withered bonnie. i hate ppl who say its just lighting. thats a lie by big blue bonnie. he was literally purple and then he changed his mind#like i said lizzie is pink like bonnet. and then charlie is black like lefty. because duhh.#DONT ask me about how this shit works okay. the rabbit dated the rabbit and the bear dated the bear. bc thats what happened. theres not#here. the bears got divorced. and the rabbits. the yellow rabbit and bear are fucking#no um. i like willry but i think if they were really fucking. i just think things would go differently. henry's gay in my au i dont think i#he actually had a man to fuck he'd manage to have children. its not who he is to me. will is bi but he obv thinks henry is some exception t#him being perfectly normal and straight. everyone wants to fuck their business partner. otherwise youd do it yourself#ig they can fuck after. i hate when people do these boring aus where henry and william never get married and william isnt a murderer and so#like what? theres nothing? just a couple of guys? if im looking for fics where theyre fucking im not looking for a fic where everything is#nice and clean. be serious. can we at least have some angst about it being the 70s or are you too much of a bitch for that too#anyway.....#simons spouting#simons fnaf au#OH also if anyone reads this whats the stance on this stupid idea i have where sammy pretends he has a thing for michael to annoy max. bc.#their parents had a thing for eachother. and sammy and max have a more familial relationship. and michael and charlie have a familial#relationship. but michael and sammy have barely met and do not at all. is it pushing it? i was thinking yknow from sammys perspective that'#'his sons' dad but! like you can fuck your sons dad. that's not weird. unless thats the way youre phrasing it i guess LOL. but i guess#michael would be like. thats 'my sisters' brother. and that is not someone you fuck*. BUT this isnt michaels perspective its sammy being#annoying. and from sammys perspective that is NOT his sister and there for NOT his sisters brother. *also im pretty sure this is subjective#if youre just friends. yknow. the ethics of sammy using this to bother max is not on the table because i think he deserves to be a#a bit of an ass. anyway LMAOO fkdglfg. let me know if youd like ive got anon asks on. please dont judge me for not knowing this.
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plaguedocboi · 2 years
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Twitter and tiktok are like a coral reef
It’s loud and bright and productive and glamorous. It’s fast-paced and things cycle through the environment in hours. Everyone is trying to fight for their position in the food chain and stay Relevant. There are lots of pretty things to look at. If something gets Popular it has an impact on everything around it, for a brief time until the next big thing arrives. To an outside observer it’s chaos but to those involved it has order, reason, a Purpose.
Tumblr is like a deep-sea ecosystem.
Things are slow and weird. Memes bounce around for years and even decades. People exist in their little isolated hydrothermal vent communities of mutuals. Sometimes something big happens (suez canal, November 5th, Queen Lizzie kickin’ it) and we all gather around like a whale fall but for the most part we’re just snootling around in the sand doing whatever the fuck. Occasionally someone comes down and shines their flashlight around and immediately leaves and tells their friends about what freaky shit we have going on in the depths. We don’t care. We’re very busy talking about Our Friend Jonathan from a book published in the 1800s like worms slowly digesting the bones of a long-dead organism.
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saintmuses · 2 months
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❝𝙝𝙚 𝙨𝙩𝙤𝙡𝙚 𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙩𝙝 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙥𝙧𝙤𝙢𝙞𝙨𝙚𝙙 𝙝𝙚𝙖𝙫𝙚𝙣❞
Pairing:
Soft!Dark!Thomas Shelby x Ada’s BSF!Reader
Summary:
Ada’s best friend had been much of a family. When she was requested for her hand in marriage to another, perhaps she was too much of a family.
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Warning(s): slightly Dub-con. Inappropriate touching. Possessive!Thomas. Implied Jealousy. Threat. Controlling. Minors, dni! Note: this is a mini series, so there will be three parts.
Word Count: 963
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She had remembered the feeling the first time she had met Thomas Shelby. He was a kind of person who laughed with a twinkle in his eyes.
She was seventeen when she became Ada’s first friend in Birmingham, and she had only got to meet him for a few months before he enlisted for the Great War. After he came back, his pale blue eyes cascaded in ice, and he didn’t laugh or smile anymore. However, he became more receptive towards her, always having eyes on her as if she was a member of his family or Peaky Blinders.
Ada’s painted lips grew taut as she looked at her apologetically. “Oh, about that…” she trailed off with a sigh as a response to her impending marriage proposal with the man she had been going steady with for a while now.
“What is it, Ada?”
“You would need to consult with Tommy about that. Although I don’t think you should…” Ada trailed off, realizing she had said too much.
Her eyes narrowed at the Shelby sister, catching onto what she was not saying. “And why not?”
Ada hesitated, “I’ve heard that Edward already asked for your hand, but evidently Tommy did not give his blessing.”
Her blood ran cold at the implication of not being able to marry Edward. “Why do I need to ask Tommy for permission to walk down the aisle?” She questioned, fiddling with the hem of her coat. “I’m not really a part of this family.”
“Well, Tommy already considered you as a part of the Shelby family, otherwise he would not let you attend the meetings.” Ada pointed out, flicking off an invisible lint off her coat.
“You mean to tell me that I have to consult with Tommy with any decisions I make regarding my future?” She enunciated each word slowly, but with tension filled with anger. Ada’s gaze turned sympathetic.
“Well, if it’s any consolation, you are not the only one.”
“No,” she said sharply as she fumed internally. Her eyes flashed in irritation. “Because he has already gotten involved with making decisions for my future that has nothing to do with the business of the Shelby family.”
Slamming the doors open with a soft bang, she stormed into his office without glancing at Lizzie who was about to greet her.
“Thomas!” She shouted, gritting her teeth.
He barely looked up from his paperwork that was scattered around on his ordinate desk. “Y/N,” he said simply, placing his pen aside.
She heard Lizzie closing the doors behind her so no one else could interrupt them.
“I heard you received a visitor recently,” she prodded angrily, eyebrows raising to prompt him to speak.
He heaved a sigh which bristled her, and she crossed her arms when he ran his hands down his face before rubbing his eyes as if he just received a headache.
I swear this man-
His words interrupted her internal tirade. “He asked me for your hand in marriage,” he said calmly, intertwining his fingers on top of the desk. “And I said no.”
“And why not?”
He pushed himself out of the chair, grabbing a decanter to pour himself a fresh drink of Irish whiskey. “Because it does not benefit the family if you were to marry a man like him.” Her eye twitched slightly when she heard the glass met wood as he placed the tumbler back on the desk.
“A man like-“ she cut herself off, trying again before anger got the best of her. “He’s respectable, he has wealth which he would be able to provide support for his and my future family, and-“
“And I said no, Y/N.” He said sharply, interrupting her which effectively caused her to close her mouth. His words were stern as he stared down at her with icy blue eyes. 
She looked at him in disbelief, a sense of chill ran through her veins when things did not connect, fitted like pieces of a puzzle. “You can’t make choices for me.”
His lips quirked slightly, “you’ll find that I can.”
Her eyebrows slowly furrowed as she stared up at him, observing his expression. 
Before she could lunge out of the armchair, away from the office, and away from him, he had already anticipated her move, reaching for her.
He wrapped his arm around her waist, dragging her to him, gripping her tightly with a clenched jaw and unbridle danger lurking in his strict gaze.
“Careful, sweetheart.” He warned her softly; However, his tone gave away to the threat that was simmering underneath the surface. 
Her bottom lip trembling as she peered up at him with glistening eyes. “Why would you do that?” She asked quietly, voice shaking inaudibly. “Why would you get involved with my life when it doesn’t even benefit you to begin with?” 
He didn’t say anything yet as his thumb teased the waistband of her skirt before his fingers lightly skimming down between her thighs, brushing her cunt over the thin opaque material and her underwear. 
She was shocked by how reactive her body was to his ghostly touch. She shook her head, looking pleadingly into his cold eyes for some sense of mercy.
He tilted his head before he pressed down hard on her clit through multiple layers of fabrics. She gasped, her entire body jerking at the unfamiliar combination of pleasure and a twinge of pain that seemed to render her immobile, not without a shudder.
He then leaned his head forward, closing the distance between their faces. He lightly brushed his lips against hers, barely touching. “Because if you were going to marry anyone, it would be me.” He murmured, his voice was dangerous as he stared deeply into her eyes before releasing her, stepping away from her presence.
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act II | ❝𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙢𝙚𝙣 𝙨𝙩𝙖𝙧𝙩 𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙨 𝙮𝙚𝙩 𝙩𝙧𝙤𝙮 𝙝𝙖𝙩𝙚𝙨 𝙝𝙚𝙡𝙚𝙣❞
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look-at-the-soul · 2 months
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Every little thing you do- Part 1
Tommy Shelby x reader
Series Master list
✨So first part is finally here!! Please be aware this part is set to happen in different days therefore you’ll see a little divider in the middle… and also! There’s violence. Please note I’m trying to follow the ideas/education from back in the day so it won’t necessary fit for today’s way of seeing things.
Word count: 2,977
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Waving her sister goodbye, Y/N headed outside. But to her surprise she found Scott stopping his vehicle.
“Hello sweetheart.” He greeted her with a quick kiss on her lips, she stepped back immediately in case her mother was watching behind the curtains.
“Scott, I wasn’t expecting to see you today.”
“We’ll I lied and said I felt sick to get out earlier.”
This wasn’t something he’d do, but she listened to his explanation.
“I wanted to see you.”
Y/N looked over her shoulder, her parents were strict.
“You know you’re only invited for lunch and tea on Sundays.”
“I know, I know.” He moved back retrieving something from the car. “Got you these.”
“I love them, thank you.” Y/N pressed the bouquet of flowers against her chest, the fresh aroma invading her, a smile growing in her lips.
“Why don’t you go back inside and put them in water? Then meet me at the bakery around the corner.”
“Where are we going?”
Scott gave her a wide smile that took her breath away. “It’s a surprise, you’ll like it.”
Butterflies got spread all over her stomach, the expectation building. She hurried to the unexpected date.
“Listen, I want to apologize for acting shitty the other day.” Scott announced. “Can you forgive me love?”
Y/N nodded eagerly, pleased by his change of heart.
“It’s alright, just be careful next time.” Y/N suggested as he drove.
“Careful?”
“You shouldn’t have talked Tommy that way.”
Scott rolled his eyes. “There you go again, defending him. This why we fight.”
“No, Scott I don’t want a war between you two all the time, he didn’t like the way you talked to me.”
“Why does he always sticks his bloody nose in our business?”
“It’s not like that.”
“He’s always standing in the middle, I’m sick of getting orders from him, he leaves me the worst jobs just to please himself, he’s got people to do those things. I thought they wanted me to do other things, not to clean horses shit.”
“Scott I can’t interfere in your role among the gang, he already has done more than enough.”
“There it is, you’re defending him instead of being on my side…”
Y/N realized how unintentionally she always put Tommy on a pedestal, her boyfriend was right, feeling like he was belittled. She knew Tommy didn’t like him, and there was a possibility that she wasn’t impartial.
“I’ll see what I can do.” She finally gave in, not wanting to spend their time together fighting.
“That’s my girl.” He stopped the car on the sideway and began to shower her face with soft kisses.
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”Do you need anything else?” Lizzie walked around the desk, resting against the bookshelf.
“What happened with the contracts you couldn’t find?” Tommy asked leaning back on his chair.
“Arthur took them by mistake.”
“Keep those locked.” He pointed a finger at her.
“Are you going to Karl’s birthday party?” She tried batting her eyelashes at him, but Tommy wasn’t looking at her.
“Yes, in a minute.”
Lizzie looked down at him again, hoping he’d ask her to join him.
“Heard Ada bought a huge cake.”
Tommy took his briefcase and hummed nonchalantly.
“I wrapped you a present for Karl, take it before you leave.”
She didn’t get a response.
Giving up to her wishes to be invited with the Shelby family, Lizzie shook her head. Collecting the remains of her dignity from the floor.
Tommy followed her with his eyes as she stomped her foot on her way out but dismissed it a few seconds later, not understanding her attitude.
The office was quiet when he crossed it, everyone had headed home already and his family were already in Polly’s house.
This was the first time he left considerably early in a long time. The need to release some stress made him reach for a cigarette. He had a dozen of things to do, a trip to London in the upcoming days, visit one of the fabrics… before he realized, Tommy parked outside Polly’s property.
Karl’s celebration was a rare family gathering. For his brothers birthdays they’d usually went to camp close to the river and drink all night. He wasn’t used to paper decorations and chocolate cake.
A small figure crashed against his legs. “Oh oh.”
Looking down, he found one of John’s kids. Was this Kate? Or Barbara?
“Careful.”
“There you are.” John appeared with a sandwich in his hand. “Go with your siblings.” He instructed his daughter.
“John.” Tommy called him mysteriously, with his hand motioning his brother to step closer. “Wipe your fucking mouth, you’ve got chocolate all over it.”
Stepping into the living room, he joined his family.
“Uncle Tommy!” Karl ran towards him with his arms open.
Tommy rubbed the kid’s back and offered him his present. “Happy birthday Karl.”
“Thank you!”
“Looks like you owe me money Pol.” Ada chuckled as she helped her son open his present.
Tommy looked from his sister to his aunt, studying them.
“Damn it. I thought he wasn’t going to show up.”
“So you made a bet?” He asked in disbelief.
He usually wouldn’t. But when it came to his sister, he made an effort.
“Where’s Y/N?” Polly asked with a frown.
“I sent her the invitation, thought you’d arrive together.” Ada explained staring at her brother.
But Tommy shook his head. “No, I haven’t seen or heard from her.”
“Shit! Pol! Help me out here!” John shouted holding his son James in his arms, he was bleeding and crying. “Smashed his fucking head.”
As Ada rushed to get some clean towels, Polly tried to comfort the child.
Stepping away from the chaos, Tommy leaned against a column to think he actually hadn’t seen Y/N in almost a week. A million thoughts filling his mind, trying to find a reason for her to be distant.
He needed to know if she was alright because she had always been close to the family, she was always considered part of it to all their gatherings; she was there for them at Freddy’s funeral, at John’s wedding…
“Now that we’re here all together, I’ve something to say.” Arthur announced stepping on a chair, oblivious that Esme and Polly were taking care of a bleeding child.
As the room went quiet, Arthur announced he and Linda were expecting a baby.
“Congratulations.” Esme managed to blurr through gritted teeth. “Now help me hold James, because I need to rearrange his arm.”
As Arthur walked past Tommy, his brother patted his arm and mumbled a low congratulations.
But the thought of Y/N not being with them, stuck in his head.
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Y/N felt like sleeping on the couch. Her feet were swollen, Lady Winchester lost one of her precious earrings and decided to put everyone in the search until they found it under her vanity hours later.
Oddly her family decided to stay up late apparently as she could see the candles still on. But just as she set one foot inside, her mother pushed her abruptly.
“You’re a dishonorable daughter! We gave you everything!” One of her hands intended to land on her cheek but hit her on her ear instead.
“What happened?”
“Y-your aunt says you’re with a child, she saw you this morning and came to ask me.” Y/N’s mother was furious.
A woman came into view, her sister poking her head from the kitchen as her mother pushed her into the room next to it and closed the door. She demanded Y/N to undress and started touching her breasts.
“She’s with a child.” The elder woman confirmed, her hands still on her breasts.
Y/N’s face got paler by the second. Her mother gave the woman money and asked discretion.
A heavy silence filled the room, Y/N could hear a pin drop if someone threw one. Dizziness swept over her as her palms started to sweat.
“Your father will be so disappointed by you.” Her mother sentenced firmly. “You’re a whore, this sin will follow you from now on.”
Blood went to Y/N’s feet and she had to grab the vanity for support.
“You’ll tell Scott tomorrow and get him to ask your father’s permission to marry you before you start showing.” Y/N could hear her mother’s words as if she was underwater.
“I’ll save him the embarrassment, perhaps you can go to your grandmother’s house and hide there…” she was pacing the room as a maniac, Y/N was starting to process everything, she could hardly breathe.
“I didn’t know I could get pregnant without being married.”
Y/N’s mother laughed sarcastically. “It’s too late for that now, you should’ve waited until you got married!”
“You never told me this could happen.” Y/N felt on the edge of tears.
“I educated you with values, God only knows what you learned from that friend of yours.” Her mother mumbled something else Y/N couldn’t understand. Slowly she sat on the carpet, her skirt pooled around her hips and she finally sobbed. When one day Scott touched her breasts and it felt nice, electricity ran through her body. But he stopped right there. Then after taking her to the river, one of his hands sneaked under her skirt and moved her intimate clothes to the side and her body trembled. A week after that, he was about to start a fight with Tommy, for the night when they arrived after visiting Tommy’s new house. So in an attempt to make up for that fight, he took her to the river again and after kissing her, he told her he wanted to do something else. It had been over a month since she stepped in the middle of Tommy and Scott.
Y/N didn’t know she could feel such pleasure until he introduced himself into her body and she exploded of ecstasy. It felt right, he said he loved her and they went back a few days later.
Scott had said this should be between just the two of them, just as their love. But he never told her she could get pregnant.
Worry kept her up all night. She felt sorry for her poor father.
Covering her face with her hands, Y/N felt the tears rolling down her cheeks uncontrollably.
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“Scott,” Y/N breathed with relief, all the worry from the past days when she hadn’t been able to reach out soon, forgotten. “I need to talk to you.”
“Y/N… I’ve to rest, haven’t had a decent sleep yet. Can we talk about this another day?” He had been out of the city, busy with God knows what, but this was important for her, for them, for their future.
Y/N studied their surroundings carefully, trying to keep her voice from shaking she placed her hands on his shoulders.
“We’re going to have a child, Scott I’m carrying your baby.” She whispered.
Scott blinked unamused by the news, his nostrils expanding profusely. Y/N wanted to reach out, to throw herself in his arms but as they were outside his house, she had to control herself. Keep her distance with him and behave accordingly.
But when he took a step back, she felt confused.
“I-I’m… this must be a mistake.”
“No, no. There’s a baby growing inside me.” She repeated, keeping her voice down. “We’ll need to figure out about the wedding, it’ll have to be something intimate and soon before it starts showing…”
“I’m not going to marry you.” Scott scoffed. “How can I be sure this child is mine? You could’ve slept with someone else just as you did with me.” He mocked her.
Before she could stop herself, Y/N found her hand flying to his cheek. Her palm tingled after the slap she gave him.
“How could you say something like that?”
“Don’t you ever dare to fucking touch me again!” He snapped. “And as for this little inconvenient… I’m not taking responsibility, you’re on your own.”
He gave her a disgusted look and walked inside his house. Leaving Y/N turned into a crying mess, she was hurt and disappointed by his reaction and terrified of the outcome.
Her mother sent her to talk to Scott to arrange the terms of the wedding and now she just realized he didn’t have her back. But what was worse, he thought she would sleep around like a whore.
Folding her arms, she walked with her head down. Guilt and embarrassment written all over her face. How would she deal with this? How would she tell her mother what Scott just said? She had been so sure she’d be able to hide it from her father by marrying Scott but now she was left in the worst possible way.
She cried uncontrollably feeling defeated, it was now too late to do something, but at the same time she didn’t know how she’d take care and raise a baby by herself.
“Where’s Scott?” Her mother hissed when her daughter appeared in her eyesight.
Y/N couldn’t speak, something heavy made her walk slowly. Her whole world was crashing down and now she’d have to face the consequences.
“He told me he wouldn’t take responsibility for a child who might not be his.” As the words left her mouth, she started crying again.
“Of course he would say that! What did you think Y/N?!” Her mother exploded. “He must think the worst of you now, how easily you have yourself away to him!”
“He told me he loved me!” Managed to shout through her tears and sobs.
Her mother’s hand flew rapidly and hit her hard.
A heavy silence surrounded them. Her cheek was burning from her mother’s slap.
“Leave Y/N!” Her grandmother intervened.
“She deserved that.” Her mother explained, she was beyond angry.
Y/N’s grandmother wrapped an arm around her granddaughter protectively.
“What happened?”
“Tell her, go on… tell your grandmother what you did.”
Y/N kept her head down, she felt like she couldn’t look her grandmother in the eyes. She had failed them terribly, the values and principles they had showed her were thrown through the window.
“No? Well, I’ll tell her myself.” Her mother warned. “Y/N didn’t wait until marriage, she gave herself away like a whore and is now with a child. Couldn’t keep her legs closed.”
“Well we’ll think of something, she won’t start showing right away.”
“There’s nothing to think mother, Scott is out of the picture he didn't accept the responsibility.”
“But he’s as responsible as Y/N.” Her grandmother pointed out thinking this wasn’t fair on Y/N.
“Your granddaughter’s honor is right on the floor, he even suggested the baby isn’t his.”
Y/N saw her mother pacing around the small room, it was making her feel sick.
“And your father arrives tomorrow… should we send her with your sister to Durham?” She pondered the possibilities thinking of her mother’s sibling.
“Absolutely not.” Her grandmother defended.
“Then what? What are we going to do?”
Y/N felt sick and rushed away from them. Her head was pounding, her stomach in a tight knot and her heart shattered into million pieces.
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“Ma’am you can’t go in there.” Tommy heard from outside his office, then saw the door swing open.
“Mr. Shelby you’re the only one who can help me.”
Tommy rose to his feet in a second, the worry he found in Y/N’s grandmother raised all the alarms.
“What happened?”
“My son in law is hitting Y/N badly.” Her voice cracked, her hands reached for the sleeve of his suit. “You’ve to help her.”
Tommy took his coat from the rack and rushed to see what was happening.
“John, get Polly and meet me in Y/N’s house.” He demanded.
“I’ll go with them Mr. Shelby.” Y/N’s grandmother expressed, not wanting to make him wait.
Tommy doubted for a second, but with her hand, the elder woman ushered him, so it must be serious. Stepping in Y/N’s house without knocking because he heard her cries and pained screams from outside, but Tommy wasn’t prepared to find what he’d see.
Y/N was in the middle of the living room half her clothes shattered, kneeling on the floor and her upper body leaned over a chair, her back covered by the belt marks and blood.
He felt a rush of anger and disgust through his body. Tommy could practically taste his bile in his mouth, but as Y/N’s father was about to hit her again, he stepped in his way, holding the man’s hand firmly in the air.
“You touch her again, and I’ll fucking kill you.”
“Stay out of this Shelby, I’m dealing with this whore.”
“Don’t make me repeat myself or you’ll regret it.” Tommy muttered through gritted teeth.
John joined him with a couple of some of their men, they went straight to hold Y/N’s father away from her.
Y/N winced in pain when Tommy tried to help her up.
“This is a family matter!” Y/N’s mother shouted disturbed for the interruption. “You should respect that.”
“Yeah? Just like you’re respecting your daughter?” Tommy snapped, he lost all self control over this injustice.
“She has to deal with the consequences of her acts! Behaved like a whore, gets punished like one.”
Y/N felt her mother’s words like daggers to her heart. She wasn’t sure what felt more hurtful; her father’s hitting her with his belt or her mother’s words.
Tommy felt like throwing up, he apologized when he got Y/N in his arms and she complained from the pain.
“You can’t take her away!” Her mother warned, trying to stop Tommy.
He gave her a warning stare and mumbled; “watch me.”
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Part 2
Divider
Tag list: @lyarr24 @runnning-outof-time @cillmequick @datewithgianni @cloudofdisney @gretelshelby @garrison-girl-08 @lespendy @onlydeadcells @fastfan @stevie75 @prettylittlehoneyeyesxoxo @esposadomd @forbidden-forest-witch @ange-thoughts @moral-terpitude @elenavampire21 @forgottenpeakywriter @thenattitude @winchestergirl22 @zablife @elk96 @blondie-22 @imichelle-l-rigby @allie131313 @already-broken144 @peakyscillian @babaohhhriley @shelbydelrey @shaddixlife @sloanexx @sydneyyyya @lau219 @adaydreamaway08 @pono-pura-vida @thomashelbyswife @darleneslane @lauren-raines-x @everythingelseisextra @kmc1989 @red-riding-wood @lovemissyhoneybee @theendlessvoidofdarkest @wannabeperfectionists-blog @yeppaweshallsee (can’t tag) @shydysneylover (can’t tag) @holacia3 @galactic3a @mysticalbouquetwolf-posts @ietss @abaker74 @natalie--rushman @elliaze @withyoutilltheendofthismess
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ellastone-olsen · 4 months
Note
I’d love to request a Lizzie x Reader smut fic where Reader is Lizzie’s stunt double - almost uncanny in how identical they are - and after a late night training session together, things really heat up between them.
Are we the same person ? | Elizabeth Olsen
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★Pairing: Elizabeth Olsen x f!stunt double!reader
Summary: Elizabeth has always liked her stunt double, but no one knows how much she likes you.
★Warnings: NSFW 18+, alcohol, thigh riding, fingering, oral, it looks like selfcest but it isn’t, fluff I love fluff
★Word count: 1.6k
★AN: another interesting request, how could I not write this?
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Wanda 838's body flies sideways through the staircase railing and lands on the kitchen table, breaking the furniture into splinters. "Stop! Cut!” You hear the director's voice and try to get up from the floor. It definitely hurt, even with the safety lines. Elizabeth, dressed as the scarlet witch, immediately approaches you, offering a helping hand.
"Hey how are you? Are you seriously hurt?» You took her hand and stood up, groaning in displeasure. The thigh on which you landed was in pain, there was no doubt that there would soon be a bruise there, but that’s your job. "Thank you. This is probably the most traumatic scene in the entire film." You tried not to show how much the fall had unsettled you. Someone approached the two of you to shower Elizabeth with compliments about the work she had done, but the woman brushed the man aside like an annoying fly. “I’m busy right now, isn’t it obvious?” She didn't even notice who it was.
You were flattered by the attention of a star of her level to a simple stunt double like you. Elizabeth has said more than once how ideally suited you are for this position and even joked that you and she are more twins than her famous sisters. Perhaps it was so, the other actors on the set when they saw you for the first time were shocked by your similarity, right down to your facial features and hairstyle. “Admit it, have you been preparing for this job all your life?” They made fun of you.
You and Elizabeth crawled arm in arm to a small trailer park where each was signed with the names of the main cast. As an stunt double , you weren’t entitled to such luxury, so the woman brought you into her “home on wheels” and closed the front door with her foot. “You really shouldn’t have done that, Lizzie. Besides, you need to change your own clothes, you’re still the scarlet witch.” You joked with her in a warm, friendly manner. You spent a lot of time training together and managed to become friends. You were glad to have the honor of not being a stranger to her, but you always wanted more.
“No, you do such a big work and I want to take care of you for once before you sneak home as soon as the cameras turn off.” Your heart swelled at her words. Lately, your relationship has become much closer, which did not go unnoticed by your colleagues on the set and the paparazzi. “Okay, fine. But you still need to go and get rid of this entourage, no matter how much I love Wanda, but give me Lizzie back.” The woman sighed and left the trailer, promising that she would return soon, leaving you alone. A hot bath or shower (depending on what is in this box) would definitely be welcome right now.
“No, look, I do this part, and then you replace me.” You were sitting in the private small gym in Elizabeth's house and rehearsing for tomorrow's big scene. As soon as you entered the house, the older woman immediately offered you something to drink and took out a bottle of pomegranate wine. Now each of you has drunk a glass and your brain has begun to get confused in this whole huge scenario and the replacement of you with her and back. “Get up, come here.” The woman rose to her feet to rehearse again. You walked up to her and she wrapped your body in her arms, guiding you.
“I've practiced this scene alone too many times, look if you do it like this...” She took your hands in hers and made the motion the way Wanda would cast a spell. She pressed herself dangerously close to you and you turned your head, coming face to face with Elizabeth. You were frozen in that position and your wine-clouded brain was screaming for a kiss with the most beautiful woman you had ever seen, who was holding you in her arms. Your green eyes looked into her equally green ones and it seemed like little sparks were running around.
Elizabeth has made hints about her sexuality more than once in interviews, and when she realized that she was attracted to her double, it was not a surprise to her. The only thing that confused her (but only at first) was your too strong resemblance. Later, the thought of sleeping with “herself” began to seem too attractive to her. She would even say that this became her kink. And now, when you were dressed the same, with the same hair, from afar it was impossible to tell who was who. This turned her on even more, but the woman did not have the courage to admit it.
“Lizzie...” your whisper broke the ringing silence and the woman returned from her thoughts. She tried to back away, but you had enough impudence for both of you. You took her hands in yours and closed the distance again. "What do you want?" Her gaze running over your face, cheeks flushed with embarrassment. Your lips almost touched hers and you asked the last question in a whisper. "Can i kiss you?" A hum of agreement was all she could muster and you placed a quick kiss on her lips. And then another and another. The pace became faster and hungrier and you began to kneel down along her body. Hands lifted her black sports T-shirt so that lips left kisses on her toned stomach. The woman's hands slid into your hair and you looked up at her with puppy dog ​​eyes.
As you pulled her sweatpants off, your mouth kissed every exposed piece of skin: her hip bone, her upper thighs. When the pants and underwear slid down to reveal her center, you noticed how a string of sticky moisture stretched from her dripping pussy to her panties. “So wet.” Elizabeth stepped out of her unnecessary clothing and you pulled her down so she could sit on your lap, straddling you.
“Y/N...” She squirmed on top of you and took off her shirt, revealing her full breasts. Your lips wrapped around the nipple and the women let out a quiet moan, like a sob. Lizzie took your hand and lowered it to her crotch, wanting the long-awaited relief. “Now you see me without clothes, do we still look alike?” She needs to know this. Two fingers pushed inside, stretching the tight warm walls and you answered. "Absolutely identical." She began to ride your fingers, bouncing and squirming like a snake. She grabbed your shoulders for balance and moaned into the crook of your neck. Your other hand stroked her back and you whispered to her what a good girl she is, how well she doing for you. And when your fingers curled, pressing against the sensitive spot inside, she came, moaning into your mouth as she kissed you.
It was hard for you to sit on the hard floor of the gym and you leaned back to lie down and wrapped your arms around Elizabeth to prevent her from falling. The woman lay on top of you and sprinkled small kisses on your face, neck and lips, whispering quiet “Thank you.” Again and again. When the older woman's breathing returned to normal, she attacked your neck, biting lightly, making you squirm in place.
“I need to make sure your words are true.” That's all she said before instantly undressing you and pressing her lips to your bare chest with already hard nipples. You didn't lie. "You look as precise as I showed, although it wasn't difficult." She teased. Women’s teeth left bites on the surface of your stomach and thighs, what difference there will still not be visible, you thought. Let her to do what he wants, you told yourself, but all that came out was whining. “Oh please, I need you so much.”
And she gave you what you asked for, reaching your dripping center, she licked and sucked it clean so she could immediately push three fingers and pound into you at a fast pace. “So beautiful...” Lizzie whispered and placed a hand on your stomach to hold you in place. “Oh my God, oh my God!” You screamed into the empty gym as you came all over her fingers and tugged at her hair, pushing her head closer. "Yes! Fuck!” You fidgeted all over her face, unable to control yourself, you've been dreaming about this moment for too long.
When it was all over, the woman came up to you to give you one last kiss and stood up, picking up the clothes scattered on the floor. You looked at her in confusion, not understanding what it meant. It's good that she answered your silent question. “Are you just going to lie on the floor or are you going to come upstairs with me and take a shower before bed?” Sleeping in the same bed with her? Hugging? Oh, of course, this prospect immediately brought you to your feet.
“If we arrive together tomorrow, the paparazzi will again shout about our non-existent romance.” You said this with deliberate indifference, as if you really didn’t care what happened to you next. But Lizzie wrapped her arms around your shoulders to ask another question. “Who said that this is a non-existent romance? Hmmm” Your eyes widened and you didn’t know what to answer, the gears in your head were spinning intensely, processing what was said.
"Nobody." You answered. "Nobody said that."
501 notes · View notes
wutheringcaterpillar · 2 months
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Who’s the Other Girl?
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Summary: Tommy is having an affair with you in the states but what happens when you are face to face with his wife, Lizzie.
Warnings: Infidelity, talks of divorce, women standing up for other women.
I bet you're from out West somewhere
Hazel eyes and dark brown hair
And everything you wear fits you just right
I bet you drink martinis dry
And never let him see you cry
I bet you're more promiscuous than I
I bet your bold, 
I bet that’s why you seem to occupy his mind
I bet you’re smart
But do you know about me?
“You were just in the states last week, tell me again why can’t Arthur go and get this woman if she’s so needed here?” Tommy huffed as he finished lacing his shoes, snagging the cigarette from between his lips, looking up at Lizzy with a stare of annoyance as if he hadn’t explained several times before.
This was now the fifth week in a row that Tommy had met with Y/N due to “business”, Lizzie was already calling the bluff on that after a photo of the two of you together had been posted in the paper.
Rumors had already circled the Garrison that Thomas was involved with another woman and he had refused to make any comments regarding the accusations. 
Standing up he disposed of his cigarette, noticing the upset in his wife’s eyes. 
“Hey c’mere.” She allowed him to pull her near and dear into a hug but somehow even with his arms wrapped around her, he felt tremendously far away, straying further each time he’d come home.
“I’ll be back before you know it alright? Tell the children I love them.” Placing a kiss on her forehead, Lizzie tilted her chin up, hoping for more but all she received was Tommy walking out the door, leaving her bottom lip quivering, hands shaking with anxiety, knowing all too well how the story goes.
Going to the window, she watched him get into the car, glancing at his watch while Ruby’s footsteps hurriedly ran across the room, tugging at her mothers skirt. “Mommy, mommy! Where’s daddy going?” She looked down at their child, trying to come up with an answer suitable for a child.
“He’ll be back soon honey. Your father works hard to ensure our safety, and he loves us very much. He’ll be back soon.” Picking the child up, holding her closely to her heart she watched her husband leave, nothing but hopelessness filling her heart.
The fire was lit dimly in the living room as she settled with a cup of tea, trying to avoid picking up the paper but curiosity and the need to know getting the best of her.
Finishing off the tea, with shaking hands she looked at the headlines, her heart aching at how beautiful Y/N was. The picture was her and Tommy seated at a bar, far too closely to be just friends. Her legs were crossed like a lady but Tommy’s hand lay on her thigh, other arm wrapped behind her while she was smiling brightly, blushing like a girl in love.
She looked beautiful, attractive, young, strong, all the traits Lizzie didn’t feel she had anymore. A sudden, simple realization in the photo was almost too much to bare for her weeping heart when she realized Tommy’s wedding ring was no longer on his finger.
The question lingered in the air, did you even know about her, has Tommy told you he was married and if so why engage. Then again Lizzie was aware how convincing and manipulating her husband was. After all from the photo, you did strike her as smart but that didn’t take away from the younger facial features. If she had to guess you were in your mid twenties, and she was well aware how simple it was for men to deceive young women, especially when they were in love for the very first time.
Attempting to put her mindset in yours, she ganderd into Tommy’s office, opening multiple drawers and rummaging through scattered papers until she found the document of the deal.
Surely a young woman like yourself didn’t know how Tommy Shelby operated and to always read the fine print.
Skimming through the contract, she noticed your signature was not at the bottom yet which she believed to be rather odd, but maybe that was why he was bringing you back here. Why not just take it with him though?
All of the endless questions became answered with a simple sentence written in smaller, italicized text at the very bottom of the paper. Almost too small for even Lizzie to read.
“Termination of ownership shall commence after signature is received. Ownership of business transferred solely to receiving partner Thomas Shelby along with any additional funds requested.”
He was going to leave her with nothing. Absolutely nothing, high and dry. Lizzie knew very well what it was like to have nothing and try to find her way through life living off of the scraps of men. Searching the paper once more she found your address in the states, contacting one of Tommy’s assistants insisting that he get a letter to Y/N before it was too late on the behalf of Tommy. Simply stating he had forgotten to take an important paper. Maybe after all the wrongs she had committed in her life, this one good thing would act as a repetence.
Are you the one he's talkin' to
When he gets up and leaves the room
And comes back with a distance in his eyes?
Maybe I should be the one to leave
But damn, when he starts lovin' me
He makes me think I'm all that's on his mind
The knock on the door startled you from your reading. Glancing at the clock, a wide grinned expression spread across your face, knowing fully well who was at the other side of the door.
You’d been aware he was married but after some time of convincing, Tommy had ensured you he’d be leaving Lizzie and there was nothing to be ashamed of, nor feel guilt about. You had never met Lizzie, only heard about his wife through passerby’s conversations.
With the door opening, his piercing blue eyes enchanted your every being, reeling you in, never allowing you to take a second to think. It was like he put a spell on you. “I’ve missed you darling. We’re set to leave around four, surely plenty of time to…” He brushed his warm hand down your cheek sweetly, those ocean eyes scanning your body with such precision and crave. 
Jumping up into his arms, your legs wrapped around him as he kicked the door shut behind him, walking you into the bedroom as your lips collided together in a profound, lustful sensation.
As clothes were shed and he towered over you in the bed, your legs spread once more for this handsome, intimidating man.
He peppered poetic kisses down your neck, leaving marks on your shoulder blades as he thrusted momentously through your sweet succulency, fucking you in a way no other man could.
Impatience, and pure desire washing over you every time you saw his nude, muscular body, you thrusted down with him in harmonious rhythm, stemming your blooming rose with his cock. His eyes never once left yours, your fingers intertwining together as he released his seed into the tight, tunnel of love between your thighs.
When he excused himself to the restroom, out of the corner of your eye the wedding ring sitting atop the bedside table caught your attention. 
Was he really going to leave her? Are the children aware? What were you getting yourself into?
Hearing the toilet flush, the phone rang along with it, and it wasn’t long until you heard Tommy’s voice. Talking as if he were somewhere else, still closing the deal with you.
“We’ll be leaving soon….I invited her to dinner….it’s just business….alright see you soon.”
Just business? Is that all you were? Saddening, you rolled out of bed to retreive your clothes as if that would mask the betrayal and pain bubbling in your heart.
This exchange was supposed to be more than business, maybe not at first but you had grown up with nothing and Tommy was the only willing to invest in the idea of your, and the amount of money he invested was more than enough and made you feel like your ideas weren’t of nonsense or daydreams. One thing turned into another and once that pub opened after a tremendous amount of indecent flirting, you found yourself bent over the bar and Tommy making endless visits to your hometown, spending nights tangled between the sheets of your bed, him spoiling you with surprises and gifts. But what was it all for?
His heavy footsteps entering the room pulled you away from the questions.
Right away he could tell you were upset when your teary, pained eyes connected with his.
“Is that all I am to you is business?” He scoffed, approaching the clear understanding that you’d overheard the phone call and just like that with the flip of a switch his lips curled into a soft, endearing smile while his ocean eyes bore over you sincerely.
“Of course not. I’m trying to let her down easy Y/N. After we finish business, the loose ends will tie together and things will be settled. Alright?” Why did you believe this man who had promised you nothing? Why did his voice have to sound suave and convincing? Your mind was telling you one thing while your heart told you another.
Is it me? Is it you?
Tell me who
Who's the other girl?
Who's the first? Who's the fool?
Who's the diamond? Who's the pearl?
Are you mad? Me too
And I wonder in his world
Is it me? Is it you?
Who's the other girl?
You stop to collect the post, realizing there was a letter addressed to you from Birmingham, surely it wasn’t Tommy considering he was in front of you.
Guilt, and shamefulness flooded your veins while your heart felt like it was waiting to explode in your throat. Contemplating on throwing the letter in the trash, you thought better and slipped the envelope into the clutch Tommy had bought you weeks beforehand.
Stopping along the way to put petrol in the car, you excused yourself to the restroom while Tommy went inside to pay the employee, grabbing a pack of smokes as he did so.
Locking the door and fumbling frantically, you ripped open the letter, not knowing what to expect but it was quite clear who wrote this.
             “Y/N. My name is Lizzie Shelby, 
I’ve presumed you’re aware of me. I’m writing this letter to inform you there is no hatred in my heart toward you. I’ve been in your position of the other woman. There’s no need to tell Thomas as we will meet soon. Don’t allow your heart to stop you from seeing the manipulation. I must speak with you when you arrive, please don’t take this as jealousy but coming from a woman who has been at the other hand.”
What did this mean? How did she know about you? Surely Tommy wouldn’t tell his wife about his mistress.
A sudden knock on the door reeled your mind away from the letter.
“You alright in there?” Checking yourself in the mirror and shoving the letter in the pocket of your purse, you opened the door, attempting to appear unpanicked and at ease.
“Yeah, just was washing my face, let’s go.”
Who's gonna put on the red dress
Scarlet letter on her chest
Can't love with this on her conscience
Tell me who's the other girl
I bet you're cool, I bet that's why
You seem to occupy his time
I bet by now
You know about me
And you know about me
Walking into the dining room, you were taken aback by just how much money Tommy had. The shimmering chandelier, the golden authentic tablecloth, the peruvian curtains, the fine china. Amidst your shock, Lizzie strutted into the room from the kitchen, cradling Ruby gently in her arms while Charlie was running circles around the house. Your eyes locking in a surprised, yet insecure expression while the question, the elephant in the room sat quaintly up in the air. Who did Tommy’s heart really belong to?
Strutting behind you, Tommy lay his hand gentleman like on your back, offering you a drink in the process.
“Y/N this is my lovely wife Lizzie. Very wise she is, and my two children Ruby and Charlie. Dinner is almost ready, sha’ll we sit?” You smiled kindly, ready to take your seat before Lizzie interrupted. Clearing her throat as Tommy pulled your seat out before her own.
“Actually, Y/N do you mind if I speak with you for a moment? I just have a million questions about the states, I’ve always wanted to go.” Tommy peered in her direction, slightly agitated but nodded that it was alright. Lizzie handed Ruby to Tommy, escorting you two rooms away into the living area.
She was poise, collected, much taller than yourself but never did you get the impression she was a threat, even though you considered the situation rather uncomfortable and off.
“I assume you’ve read my letter.” She spoke in a hushed tone, but with a kind hearted smile, insisting you take a seat across from her.
Nodding, a cat felt like it had a hold of your tongue, not knowing exactly how to respond or act.
Reading you like a book, she could tell you were quite nervous and maybe the best way possible to approach this was to come straight to the point head on.
Reaching for her purse, you couldn’t help but notice it was the same one Tommy had surprised you with but a different color. That’s odd.
Pulling out the contract, she allowed it to sit on the glass table in between you for a brief moment.
The hand writing you recognized right off the bat to be Thomas’s with the perfect cursive letters, simply reminding you off all the letters he had mailed to you when he was in Birmingham.
Shrugging off your confusion, you straightened your back, pretending as if you held confidence.
“Y/N is it?” Nodding, she carried on, glancing into the corridor, ensuring her husband wasn’t on his way in here.
When she spoke her voice was gentle, speaking with kind concern, and a soft tone.
“I remember when I was your age. So young and in love, willing to do anything just for another moment with a man. I assume this is you first-“
“How long have you known about me?” You interjected, anxiety and curiosity rising in your throat. She was beautiful, quite breathtaking and the children were so innocent and completely unaware of their father’s infidelity. Why would he do this to such a magnificent woman, whom carried his child. Guilt was eating away at your stomach.
“I’ve had my inklings for quite some time now. Probably back in November. How about you?”
“Mrs. Shelby I don’t mean any disrespect but the plan here tonight um-“ You itched at the back of your neck nervoulsy, the guilt and truth eating you alive.
“His plans you mean. I feel it my duty to inform you to read the fine print before you sign your business over to him.” Before you could respond Lizzie excused herself, not wanting to take longer than she already was without Tommy gaining suspicion.
Reading over the night quickly, you were in shock and disbelief, realizing Lizzie was the one telling the truth. Fighting back tears, you set the paper back down, wiping your teary eyes.
“Y/N, dinner’s prepared. We have your place set.” 
Who's the first? Who's the fool? 
Who's the diamond? Who's the pearl?
Are you mad? Me too 
And I wonder in his world
Is it me?  Is it you? 
Who's the other girl?
“I suppose this dinner conversation is about the contract you’ve left mistakenly on the table. Did you think I wouldn’t notice?” Lizzie shifted in her seat as you took a deep perforated breath, thinking wisely before speaking. The atmosphere in the room came to a still, eyes wandering from one another in guilt and shame.
“This can’t be real. I-I thought we had a future together, we had a plan.” Your voice cracked, sadness washing over your aching heart while Lizzie looked confused from the other side of the table.
“I-I’m sorry what?” Settling his napkin over his thigh and sighing, he took a drink of his wine, clearing his throat.
“Did you think I would leave my family for you? My children?” Lizzie was stunned by the revelation that Tommy told you he was leaving her. Was she really just a pawn all along?
“Where does your heart truly belong Tommy?” Her eyes spoke with vindication, and impatience for her dying marriage. 
Tommy stood from his seat, pouring himself a glass of whiskey, allowing the cold stream of alcohol to stream down his throat, reminiscing the moment before lighting a cigarette.
“It’s just business. If I recall correctly, I’ve given you many things Y/N. A car, a home, enough money to live your life comfortably.” Lizzie scoffed in her seat, swirling the wine in her glass.
“Oh please, that’s not the only thing you’ve given her.”
“Nevertheless. With signing over your business you’d be doing yourself a favor and I knew by making you fall in love with me, that would be quite easy with me as the only investor. Such a small, inexperienced girl in a world full of wolves waiting to sink their teeth in. Signing your rights over would be the wisest thing to do. You give me the business, we’ll part ways just as business deals operate.” Your thoughts were running a mile a minute, as each venomous word he spoke shattered your heart.
All sense of reality diminished, any hope that a man could love you and take a risk for you seemed impossible.
This was no one night stand, but an ongoing affair and you were sat in the lions den between a rock and a hard place.
Lizzie frowned in her seat, thinking of where she went wrong that Tommy would throw their entire marriage away just for extra money he didn’t need. The cold hard truth was Tommy could buy out a business with a simple sentence, he wanted to fuck you and dispose of you.
“Clock’s ticking Y/N. What’s it going to be?” Time bore down on you, massive decisions between right and wrong impending a headache.
Tommy held out the pen, watching you sit there in defeat. 
Reaching for the pen, about to sign the paper Lizzie stood up grabbing the pen from your shaking grip, taking you both by surprise.
“No! Do not sign that pub over to him. After everything you’ve worked, all the time and effort you’ve taken into opening this place up. You’ve taken so many risks. Don’t do this Y/N, he has done nothing but manipulate. Please be wiser than I was at your age. He will leave you high and dry though you may not see it now, believe me.” Tommy’s shallow blue eyes rolled in irritation, slamming his drink down on the table nearly shattering the glass.
“Enough! I don’t recall your name on the contract Lizzie.”
“This is my fucking house as much as yours and I will not let you stomp and parade all over me any longer nor her. In fact I think I’ve just developed a new way of business. I want a divorce.” The room turned completely silent.
When you tried to get up and excuse yourself in unison they spoke loudly, “Sit down.”
Lizzie was fuming, the vein in her forehead visibly popping through her skin while her nostrils flared in anger.
Aiming for the contract, she picked it up ripping the paper in shreds while Tommy grasped for her wrists to try and stop her.
“You can expect to hear from my lawyer and I will be taking the children. They’re hardly yours, you’re never here to take care of them. The endless nights I dealt with them asking why their daddy is never home because he was fucking some other woman out of the country. I’m sure this wasn’t the first time and it won’t be the last.” Tommy was at a silence, excusing himself from the room leaving you and Lizzie alone.
“Lizzie I- I really don’t have the money to keep this place open on my own. I can’t-“
“Well then consider me your next investor.” You were shocked by her statement, not expecting the sincere offer.
“I- I feel like I just tore apart your whole marriage, why would you want to do business with me?” Shaking her head, she smiled sweetly, raising her glass in satisfactionz
“No sweetheart, you got rid of my problem. I’m better off without him. We both are. So what do you say?”
324 notes · View notes
acewritesfics · 5 months
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Hopelessly In Love | Tommy Shelby
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⚠️ THIS IS A REPOST FROM MY MAIN BLOG @/DLMLUFICS. UNFORTUNATELY, I HAVE TO DO IT THIS WAY. MORE INFO IN MY PINNED POST.
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Pairing: Tommy Shelby x Reader
Request: No
Fic Type: Imagine
Warnings: Sarcasm, teasing, two idiots in love.
Word Count: 1,821
TOMMY SHELBY MASTERLIST || MAIN MASTERLIST
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“I need you," Y/N hears from behind her and turns around to see her best friend standing there, looking exasperated. 
“Good afternoon, Y/N. I sincerely hope your day is going well,” she begins sarcastically as she finishes hanging her mother's latest shipment of dresses on the racks.
Y/N works in her mother's boutique. A boutique in Small Heath sounded ridiculous considering the surroundings but her mother had opened the store, claiming that women needed a nice place to shop among the smoke and grime. “Well Thomas, it’s going so well that I’m sure nothing will bother me for the rest of the day, even when my best friend storms in like some neanderthal claiming he needs me like it’s a matter of life or death.” 
Tommy stood there, his hands in his pocket, looking at her unimpressed, his brows creased into a frown. A smug smirk stretches across her face. 
“What can I do you for, Tommy?” She asks, moving back behind the counter. 
“I need you to go to the races with me,” he tells her removing his hands from his pockets and stepping closer to the counter.  
“What? Has Hell frozen over or is it finally the day women have stopped throwing themselves at Thomas Shelby’s feet?” She teases her childhood friend. “Oh, Tommy, it must be hard,” she says pouting, giving her him a look of false sympathy.  
“Shut it, you,” he glares at her, elbows resting on the counter as he leans forward. “I’m being serious.” 
“Why do you want to take me to the races?” She questions him. They hadn’t been to the races together since before the war. It was sort of their tradition, one that was so easily forgotten when the war was over, and Tommy had thrown himself into making a better name for the Shelby’s. Instead of making the name better, he also made it fearful. “Why don’t you take that pretty barmaid you seem so smitten with. Or Lizzy, who’s more than eager to have a proper date with you.” 
“Why should I take them when I can take you, eh?” he asks, watching her as she busies herself with the clutter on the counter. She looks unsure but Tommy can tell that she’s thinking hard about it. “What are you afraid of?” 
“That you’ll forget all about the barmaid and fall hopelessly in love with me again,” she quips with a smile that doesn’t quite reach her eyes. “Just like when we were kids. You could never resist my charm and we don't want to break the barmaid's poor treacherous heart.” 
Y/N couldn't deny that she did like Grace, the barmaid Harry had hired, at first. She seemed lovely and got along quite well with her until she realized Grace was asking her a lot of questions about Tommy. At first, she thought the blonde woman fancied her best friend and she wasn't sure how she felt about it. Grace wasn't the first woman to end up with a crush on the blue-eyed devil. Tommy wasn't hard to fall in love with. But when she started asking her about the Shelby family business and the Peaky Blinders, she became suspicious that Grace's interest in Tommy wasn't as genuine as she made it out to be. And then there was the time she caught Grace eavesdropping and snooping around. She began to put two and two together. 
An Irish inspector and a pretty Irish woman, step foot in Small Heath at the same time. The barmaid, who's never actually worked in a pub before now, conveniently gets herself a job at the Garrison, the pub the Shelby Brothers frequent often and just so happens to set her eyes on the leader of the Peaky Blinders.  
She'd tried to talk to Tommy about it, but the stubborn man wouldn't hear any of it so she went to Polly who had also done the math. For a man who claimed to be smart, he became the stupidest idiot she's ever met when it comes to a pretty face. 
“I knew that love tea would have consequences,” he smiles thinking of the times they sat with his mother while she did what she called magic. He purposefully ignores her comment about Grace. He didn't want to talk or think about her right now. His sole focus is on convincing Y/N to go to the races with him, like old times and how he'd promised her all those years ago. “Maybe it’s why I never stopped being hopelessly in love with you.” 
"Don't tell Grace that," she says looking back at him before moving on to inspect the next dress, a pretty deep forest green with black beading and a black lace hem. 
"Fuck Grace," he scoffs, rolling his eyes. "This is about us." 
"There is no us, Tommy," she sighs and moves on to the red dress that's not as pretty as the green.  
"Just come to the races with me," he begins. "I haven't taken you in a while. Let me take you again." 
"Do I have a choice?"  
He shakes his head, "No." 
She looks at him, her brows creased into a frown showing her frustration.  
"Wear the green one," he adds, dropping £7 onto the counter.  
"It's only worth £5," she informs him, knowing there is no point in arguing with him. Once Tommy was set on something, there was no stopping him. 
"Buy something to go with it," he suggests. "Maybe some new shoes," he adds as he takes the dress off the mannequin and hands it to her, placing a soft kiss on her cheek before he starts making his way out of the store. "I'll pick you up at 8:30 tomorrow morning." 
"I despise you, Thomas Shelby," she calls after him. 
"And I love you, Y/N L/N" he says when he reaches the door and turns to look at her once more. "Hopelessly love you." 
Her smile goes from ear to ear this time as she watches him leave, with a slight shake of her head. She turns to go back to the counter to wrap the dress up and startles when she sees her mother standing there, a knowing smirk on her lips.  
"It's about time that boy made his move," her mother says, taking the dress from her and folds it neatly on the paper they use to wrap the clothing in. "Better late than never, I guess." 
"It's not like that, Mum," she says picking up the £7 Tommy left and placing it inside the till.  
"Of course, it is," her mum argues, walking towards where the shoes are and picks out a pair of black t-strap heels, to match the beading on the dress and brings them over to the counter. "Thomas Shelby has been in love with you since you were both five years old and you've been in love with him for just as long," she adds placing the shoebox on the counter next to the dress. "Don't waste any more time, Darling." 
"I do love him," she admits. "Some days I wonder why." 
"And you'll have plenty more of those days," her mum chuckles. "Now get out of here and go rest up for tomorrow."  
"I love you, mum," she says hugging the woman who gave her life.  
"I love you too, sweetheart." 
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"I must admit, I did miss this," Y/N says, sitting across the table from Tommy as they sat in the VIP area of the racecourse, in the forest green with black beading dress he paid for and heels her mother picked out. 
After a successful day at the races, they made their way up to the VIP lounge where they got a drink, a meal and did some dancing. Tommy was unable to keep his eyes off her from the moment he saw her standing on the curb waiting for him to pick her up. It made driving a little difficult since he tried his hardest to concentrate on the road and not the beautiful woman sitting next him. And then when they got to the races, he glared down, silently threatening the men who dared to let their eyes linger on her.  
"Do you remember the first time we snuck in here?" he asks her, a soft smile on his lips. Leaning back, he watches her as she thinks back to it.  
They were 16 at the time and she had come along with him, his brothers and his father. He'd been to the races plenty of times before, but she'd never been until that day. They both got dressed in their finest clothes back then, which were nowhere near the standard of clothing they were in today. Tommy had tried to talk his way into the VIP section, using that silver tongue of his that he had been born with. Unfortunately, it didn't work, and they had found a space in the back that they could use to sneak into the elegant area reserved for the wealthy.  
They'd spent 10 minutes in the area before they were escorted out and off the grounds of the racecourse and were made to wait there until his dad returned from being inside. That night Tommy had made her a promise. 
"I promise that one day, I will buy you the prettiest dress and we'll go back there, and they'll let us in. When they do, we'll spend the night dancing and when I take you home afterwards, I'll kiss you goodnight." 
She feels her heart skip a beat as she remembers word for word what he had promised her. As she got older, she had always played it off as a silly childish promise that held no real meaning.  
Tommy stood up from his chair and moved round the table, standing beside her as he held his hand out towards her. "Let's go home, Love." 
Y/N takes his hand and stands up, grabbing her clutch off the table and lets him lead her back to his vehicle.  
Once they arrive at the passenger's side, Tommy decides he can't wait until he drops her off home. Stopping her from getting into the car, he pulls her close, a hand on her waist and the other caresses her cheek. 
"Tommy," her voice comes out as a whisper as her heart jumps into her throat at the little space left between them.  
"I can't wait," he breathes, his voice soft as he plants his lips to hers in a soft and sweet kiss. Both their eyes flutter closed as a rush of warmth envelopes them as they pull each other as close as they can, deepening the kiss. 
Tommy is the one to end it when they start to become breathless. "I am hopelessly in love with you." 
"I know," she says, unable to hide her grin as she kisses him again. "I am hopelessly in love with you too, Thomas Shelby." 
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fandomwritingbit · 6 months
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William Afton x fem reader
Babysitter
A/N: This is a second stab at the babysitter trope because it’s just delightfully filthy, it’s not at all connected to the go I had before (which you can find - here). Also this is my first time writing somnophilia so I hope it’s good. 
Synop: Reader is a regular babysitter for William, one night she stays the night as he is working a late shift. He comes home annoyed and the sight of her asleep is just too tempting.
Warnings: smut, non/dub con, somnophilia, age gap, inappropriate relationship.
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You pull the duvet cover up over one of the children you’re babysitting, her voice catching your attention with its whiny tone. “I can’t believe you’re making us go to bed this early.” 
You smile at her and shake your head. “Lizzie, it’s half nine on a school night. You know the rules.” She pouts looking at you with pleading eyes. You know that she just wants to stay up and spend some time with you, it’s not surprising, with two brothers it’s no wonder she wants some time with another girl. She looks up to you and as sweet as it is, you know better than to delay her bed time. 
“Pleease, y/n.” She tries again and you chuckle as you turn on her nightlight then her big light off, coming back over to prop her pillows up. 
“Nope.” You say through a grin, “Now lie down if you want tucking in.” She does, though her dissatisfied expression doesn’t shift. And so, bringing the duvet up under her chin you tuck it tight at her sides, just how she likes, knowing that despite the whinging she’ll be asleep in 10 minutes tops. You stand up and head for her door, stopping just before you leave, “Night night, Lizzie. Remember the quicker you get to sleep the sooner we can make breakfast in the morning.” The little lass smiles and you notice the sleepiness of it even in the low light of the room. 
~
Elizabeth is asleep before you can gather your stuff and lock up downstairs, just as you thought. So you go about checking on Evan asleep in his room as of an hour or so ago, happy to find him still settled. They’re good kids, never any trouble really. You’ve babysat for the Afton kids many times, as a local young lass with a liking for extra pocket money it was a handy job. You would pick the two youngest up from school, take them home and cook dinner, help with homework, all the good stuff. Their dad worked long shifts at his restaurant, so usually you’d stay and put the children to bed, getting yourself home once he’d come back. But tonight was different, Mr Afton had told you he won’t be back til the middle of the night and offered you to spend the night in the spare room; which you took him up on. 
The room is probably the smallest one in the house, not that you mind, it is a double bed with an end table and a chest of drawers. You put your bag on top of it, taking out your wash bag and heading to the bathroom, where you then ready yourself for bed. As it’s only one night you didn’t bring any pjs, only your clothes for the morning, so you strip down to your panties, take off your bra and keep the shirt you’ve been wearing today on, thinking that that should be good enough to sleep in. Yes, it’s revealing but if you need to tend to the kids you can always put your trousers back on. 
You don’t notice your discarded bra, abandoned on the bathroom floor.
Once in bed you set your alarm for seven in the morning, knowing you’ll have to help Mr Afton with the school run tomorrow. Again you don’t mind and you’re paid well for your time. And you like Mr Afton. God, how can you not? Such a handsome bloke, lean and sharp. Smart as anything too, you’ve listened to him talk on the phone, all business, shrewd and confident. Yeah, you like him alright. 
~
William gets home in the early hours, some time after 3am and the happy silence of his home isn’t enough to quell his silent anger. An incident at the restaurant has left him with paperwork up to his nose and a tonne of wasted stock, and with rent and utility on the way he was stressed to all hell. Even after staying nearly all night, there was still some much to do when he went back in tomorrow afternoon, and lord knows Henry won’t be helping much. 
He moves through his house as quiet as he can, careful not to wake anyone up even with his terrible mood. Poking his head in on his children, he smiles in satisfaction at your work. You’re such a good little lass, looking after them so well, you’re more than worth what he pays you. Honestly, the kids love you, even Michael isn’t annoyed by your presence and he couldn’t ask for a prettier thing to be milling around his house. He chuckles at that thought, you’re a damned tease even if you don’t realise it. What with all your tight jeans and shirts that pull away when you bend down, it’s hard for him not to look at you, but so far that’s all he’s done. That and a bit of harmless flirting. 
He pops into the bathroom to wash his face, hoping that will help clear away the stress of the day, except he doesn’t make it as far as the sink. Stopping still at the sight of your bra left on the floor. It’s a surprise to say the least, you’ve never struck him as the black lacy type, least of all when looking after his kids. And especially so given you’re not a careless individual. He grins as he picks it up, rubbing his thumb over the peak of the cup where your nipple would harden at such an action. The image goes straight to his cock, he’d wager you are much too inexperienced to wear such an article.
It would be a shame to just leave it there all night, so he keeps it in his clasp as he leaves the room, a naughty idea crossing his mind. 
But as he passes the spare room that he notices you’ve left the door cracked open. He’s not delusional, he knows it’ll be to hear the kids if they need you, but a very persuasive part of him wonders if you could have left it open for him. After leaving your bra in the bathroom it doesn’t seem outlandish, rather like you’ve left him a trail to follow and he wouldn’t dream of denying that invitation. 
The light from the hall cuts through the room as he cracks it open, his eyes quickly finding your sleeping frame laid on the bed and an almost sinister smirk creeps across his face. Such a lovely girl just laid there, having no clue that he was taking in the sight of you. Whether you did do this on purpose or not is irrelevant to him, there is only so much teasing a man can take.
He stands there in the doorway for a moment listening to the tickly feeling in his chest of doing something he knows he shouldn’t, his silhouette casting a large shadow into the room. It’s a familiar feeling but one that just never dulls. 
Still careful to be silent, William slowly enters the room, reaching behind himself to close the door, the room remaining dimly lit due to a lamppost outside the window. His hands move automatically to the buttons of his shirt, still unsure of what he was going to do even as he took it off, dropping it down to the floor. His belt was harder to take off without the suspect clinking noise but he manages it and his trousers follow suit. Standing over you there with his cock rock hard behind his boxers, he feels like some all powerful monster and it’s just delicious. 
The bed dips as he gets in beside you, lifting the duvet up and scooching in until his chest is pressed against your back, your warmth utterly intoxicating. You stir, a soft sleepy moan leaving your lips that makes his dick twitch. This is wrong in so many ways but he doesn't care, especially when his cold hand finds your leg, tracing up to the soft skin of your thigh and groaning when he feels the fabric of your panties. Though he skims over them for now, eager to feel more of you. It’s so easy for him to reach up under that shirt, trailing up over your stomach whilst softly grinding his stiffness into your behind, the knowledge of no bra making precum coat the tip of his cock. 
A cold hand grabs your breast, gently squeezing your flesh before taking your nipple between his fingers and tugging it lightly, it hardens instantly which makes him grin wolfishly. You again stir, arching your back into him, your behind rubbing against his erection. Your body subconsciously leans into the touch so he can’t help but give you what you want, largely because it’s what he needs.
So he shifts position, lifting your leg forwards to gain access to the part of you that was calling for him. He traces over your clothed pussy, brushing over your clit a few times and feeling your body tense with the slight stimulation.  
“Is that what you like, sweetheart huh?” He whispers, his breath spreading goosebumps along your skin, it doesn’t wake you but it’s close to. The throbbing of his cock makes him want you to notice. From there he slides his fingers under the fabric, immediately finding your core slick and gooey, he glides them through your folds, gradually becoming more risky with how he grinds his hips into you. The stimulation makes you moan, your eyes fluttering open and body instinctively trying to pull away, but he holds you firm, his other arms sliding under you to clamp over your mouth, disguising the sounds that tear from your throat. 
He shushes you repeatedly, his voice low in your ear, “Shush, sweetheart. It’s alright.” You’re ravaged by confusion, unable to tell if this was real, the fingers coated in your slick teasing your entrance and rubbing your clit felt achingly so, but how could this happen- it couldn't possibly be happening. 
You groan something into his hand and he briefly pulls it away enough to hear you, prompting you to say it again with a hum. Your brows are knitted as you speak, still trying to pull yourself away from him and the growing feeling building in your core. “...Mr Afton?” He grins into the back of your neck when you say his name like that.
“Yes, lovely.” 
You moan as his fingers find a perfect rhythm on your clit rubbing it vigorously and making the coil in your stomach tighter by the minute. “What… what are you doing?” It’s hard to speak, you’re so shocked that he’s doing this, that you’re living through it right now and that it feels so good. 
He doesn’t answer you, just chuckles into your skin, you aren’t riving away from him anymore but rather grabbing at the quilt now sticking to your sweaty skin, unable to decide if you want all this to stop or if you need him to continue. Your lower stomach is riddled with knots that are just begging to snap, the sensation completely overwhelming. You’re moaning pathetically, causing him to shush you again, you sound so good right now he’s dying to relieve himself somehow and just rubbing against you isn’t enough anymore, not when he knows how sweet and wet you are for him. And just, just as you’re screwing your eyes up ready to slam into your climax he stops, leaving your pussy twitching on the brink of your end. 
“Mr Aftonnn.” You whine, devastated that ecstasy was ripped from your tongue and desperate to feel it again. He moves behind you, pulling down his boxers enough to let his cock out, hissing as he strokes himself. You feel him pressing against your behind, then the stickiness of his precum smearing on your skin. 
“You gonna let me fuck that sweet little pussy?” The sound of his voice is so insanely dirty it has your head spinning, you nod, not remembering that he can’t see you. “Huh?” He prompts again, sliding his cock between your legs, the head notching against your entrance in such a way that it almost makes you jump.  
“Yes. Please.” You manage your voice hazy with tiredness and arousal, he doesn’t wait a moment, pressing himself inside the size of him stretching you to accommodate him. You whimper before he even gets to the hilt, your hands balled up in the sheets. 
He groans, sniggering slightly at how good you feel around him and unable to resist he starts fucking you. It’s an earth-shatteringly slow pace that has his tip pressing flush into your sweet spot, each time feeling like he was stealing the air from your lungs. The bed creaks with the movement, though he only just notices over the pretty sounds you’re making. You can’t help it, your orgasm is raising its head almost immediately and you want it so bad that you’re begging incoherently, grabbing at his hand which has found itself squeezing your breasts. And despite trying to keep the noise down his pace grows faster and more needy, the lewd sound of your wet cunt taking him in becoming more frequent. He’s muttering the dirtiest of things in your ear, mixed in with praise for how good you feel and how well you’re doing.  And it’s too much. Shuddering you hit your climax hard, muscles tensing as your wall clamp down around him and fluttering in the most perfect way. 
He grunts, fucking you more selfishly as your tightness begs him to cum. His pace wavers before he does shoving himself as deep as possible as he bursts inside you, filling you up without thinking. You gasp a little, still reeling from your orgasm but still aware enough to feel the sensation of his cum leaking out of you as he pulls out, leaving your cunt twitching. 
“Such a good girl.” 
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ma1dita · 9 days
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when the curtains close
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a 'partners in crime' installment - luke castellan x dionysus!reader
words: 5.3k
summary: (post-tlt) The one where you lose two people in the Labyrinth that day. All strings are cut. (Pollux, Annabeth, Percy, and Mr. D find out the biggest difference between you and Luke.) (Luke Castellan x fem!Dionysus!reader)
a/n: yeah to me this fic sounds and feels like that tiktok of the girl humming to her microwave. split povs: pollux, annabeth, your depictions of the titular battle of the labyrinth at CHB, some blood/gore, death & grief. the usual. you forced me to by lizzy mcalpine. references to cat on a hot tin roof by tennessee williams if you squint
(posted 5/14/24, semi edited—def coming back to this)
The first time Pollux has a panic attack, time seems to stop and the world keeps moving on without him.
He’s reminded of a time when you rambled on about how anxiety takes possession of the senses like a moment frozen in a snapshot meant for you to identify. In the memory, you had your feet kicked up on the dash flipping through a DSM-5 while he and Castor took turns speeding up and down Farm Road (totally normal older sister behavior from you, and when a cop pulled you over, the three of you narrowly escaped a ticket by talking in riddles and godly smoke that smelled like grapes). Pollux still remembers the sound of laughter in the car blending like three different chords to an archaic melody (or squawking crows in the strawberry fields)— the bond between you three laid out before time knew limits and was always meant to be.
It’s still his favorite song. You’re their favorite (and only) sister, they love to joke. These are facts that will never change.
“You two have each other, and well, I’ve got this,” you had said, the Zippo flicking open and closed against your thumb in the blossoming darkness of the car. Pink and purple rays of waning light blanketed the old hatchback as it steadily made its way back towards Half-Blood Hill, comfortable silence shared in the way only siblings can stand to be quiet—when there are no words needed to get a point across. But you’ve always set yourself apart from the pack, not needing anyone like how they need each other.
Not since Luke left, at least. The growing distance between you three since your untimely resignation from camp was proof enough. Pollux’s eyes met Castor’s in the rearview mirror as they both noticed your sad smile. His brother’s voice broke through the silence then, having always been the one blunt enough to say what was on his mind, “You’ve got us too if you let us see you more often.” Your fidgeting stops.
“It’s not you two, it’s just hard to be back here sometimes. I see things for what they used to be instead of how they really are now. Now it’s just… it has to be all business.”
Pollux cracked a smile, “S’what you get for growing up. Soon we’ll just be annoying voices in your head like you are to us.” Shutting your textbook, you turned to look at them from the passenger seat, eyes that match theirs darting between their blond heads, “All of us have to grow up eventually. Except maybe you two— I prefer you in my nightmares like the kids from The Shining. Whenever you get sick of Dad, come see me. Gods know that camp deserves a break from the two of you too.” Your knuckles knocked against both of their heads affectionately as he put the car in park, “My built-in bodyguards, huh? Always looking out for me.”
All words and meaning escape Pollux now as he stands in the greenery of the North Woods with battle gear ill-fitted to his large frame. It’s the first siege he’s ever taken part in, the first time he’s had to use battle strategies outside of Capture the Flag and the first time he’s slashed his way through monsters and demigods with the intent to try and kill or be killed. Sword and Shield could have never prepared any of them for this—as his eyes meet Castor’s and then yours with all of you thinking the same thing, the three of you join the sea of iridescent orange through mind-numbing black moving like a sharp three-pronged sword.
This type of stuff isn’t typical for him, he thinks. He and Castor are used to being comedic relief— being the source of laughs and juice boxes for pesky little campers instead of facing the real world outside the boundaries of the Mist. Perhaps your father babied them to make up for the time he lost with you, but there’s a moment where he wonders how being kept soft will keep him alive in a world as harsh as this one.
Childlike innocence is ripped away from them in the bubble they’ve inhabited until this moment. Home is now a warzone and like lambs set up for slaughter, the twins both turn to look at you as a shuddering gasp leaves your mouth at the carnage in your surroundings, monster blood and fallen friends and enemies at your feet. Breaking away from formation to take a deep breath, he looks at the sky and wonders where your father is, but smoke and soot fill his lungs and he coughs desperately for a breath of fresh air.
Pollux thinks he must have stopped breathing before Castor took his last breath. It wasn’t supposed to be a competition, but sometimes life was just funny like that.
5, 4, 3, 2, 1.
Just like you told him.
Castor was always the more manic one while Pollux knew how to endure. Children of Dionysus are forced to befriend insanity before it makes an enemy out of them—twisting the ugly into what’s real and creating something beautiful out of the deranged. You’ve shown the boys how you detach from emotion by recognizing the details—separating fact and fiction, a methodical process only describable by the blood that runs through your veins. Pollux doesn’t know where to start—everything happens so fast but it plays out in front of him like someone put the pieces together to a stop-motion animation.
He sees Castor’s sword fall to the ground when he gets slashed on the forearm and sees him get clubbed over the head with a metal weapon he’s only seen bad renditions forged for theater practices and hanging on the walls of the armory. Castor falls first to his knees, and then into the dirt with a thud. He never knew there could be that much blood coming out of a person, much less a mirror image of himself. Pollux sees your face come into his line of vision, deep maroon splatters on your face glittering with hints of ichor and then you’re moving because he can’t. The enemy is coming back for him now, and for a moment he wonders if Castor will be mad if he lets him. He sees you turn in an instant, swinging your sword down on the neck of the aggressor, a teenager not much older than he and his brother are—were. It’s funny how his brain immediately makes the switch to past tense, and how he can’t stop thinking about how he’ll now and forever be older than his twin. Pollux then sees you catch the body of the boy you just killed as life seeps out of him slower than it did for Castor.
It doesn’t make him feel any better, though.
His knees hit the ground next to his twin, touching the sludge of dirt soft like quicksand and moist with what he hopes is not blood, but Pollux is not quite sure of what else there is to hope for. His fist is wrapped around Castor’s shirtsleeve, touching faded orange and sweat as he holds on for dear life. Maybe if he tries hard enough his soul will still be intertwined with his. Your hand touches his shoulder, five fingers reaching out to brush the back of his neck and the feeling of your skin helps him refocus a bit, even if you’re saying something he can’t make out. Then the metal of your Zippo lighter feels cool to the touch within his palm and he knows what he needs to do.
The battle isn’t over, but for the three of you, everything stops here. There is no going forward without your brother. You were never meant to be children of war.
Pollux hears the sound of his heartbeat thundering through his ears, blood rushing through his veins and can’t help but notice the silence amid the chaos. There are no words fit for this—and even if there were, Castor and you were always the more talkative ones. He hears the spark of the purple flame between his fingers, blowing the smoke over him and his brother’s body, and their father’s powers blanket them like how you used to tuck them into bed, warm and safe. This is what your family is—unconventional and unending even in different realms of existence. And then Grover’s scream of panic echoes through the air and everyone hears that. Hysteria ensues as monsters and demigods alike run amok, and Pollux realizes he’s stopped shaking. In his father’s domain, he will always find comfort.
You stand above him now directing campers calmly with a free hand—a brewing storm crackling underneath your skin that he now understands. Hidden by the illusion of smoke, Pollux’s tired bones rest alongside his brother’s dead ones— together as they always were meant to be.
The three of you together, his little family—that is a fact he hoped would never change.
The smell of grapes envelops him as he leans his forehead against your muddy leg… when did the battle end? It almost masks the scent of death that rips through the air as your hand brushes through his sandy hair. Pollux stinks of sweat and you stifle a laugh as you see him smell his armpit. You three were always the same type of fucked up. He doesn’t look down at Castor laid across his lap but knows he would’ve found it funny too. Ignorance of reality even for a moment serves as a comfort. Purple meets purple as he looks up at you with a smile that doesn’t fit his face anymore and he croaks, “Wonder what dad would say about our first battle…”
Glory was never meant to be this bittersweet—it tastes like blood in his mouth until he wipes it away from his cheek and realizes it’s Castor’s. In a way, it’s his too, everything about him and within him is exactly the same down to the star stuff the fates wove them from.
“I’ll be the one to tell him. You take care of Castor,” you answer, as if there’s anything else he would want to do and then he realizes you’re crying— and he’s seeing all of the pieces put together in front of him in this photograph in his mind.
Pollux blinks slowly.
Suddenly the image he has of you is more defined— there is new meaning to the sadness you could never shake off all these years, and he is too young to lose his greatest love, which makes him realize then that so were you.
How long does this have to go on? he wonders, grabbing onto your hand with an eagerness only comparable to the feeling he got when you and Luke whisked him and Castor away from Florida all those years ago. This punishment of living while half of his soul does not—what is he supposed to do next? This was supposed to be the safe place. There is nowhere left to run. His thumb rubs circles into the back of your shaking blood-soaked hand, a secret within the smoke.
Pollux thinks there will always be a part of him frozen in time now, a memory of this day hung up in his mind like a portrait as he holds Castor’s cold hand in his warm one.
Annabeth finds you in the middle of the strawberry fields before the sun sets. She knows you won’t be sleeping tonight, not if you can fight it— not when there’s so much to do. You’ve long grown out of your ripped-up and tie-dyed camp shirts, and the one slung on your frame is newly pressed and starchy from the storage room of the Big House, still stiff against your freshly washed skin. When she’s close enough to touch you, you’ve been scrubbed clean of today.
She doesn’t have to be a daughter of Athena to know that you know that she’s there even if you can’t see her, but for once she feels like she has to hide. For once, Annabeth Chase doesn’t know what to say. How can she explain the feeling of guilt that coils around her brain like barbed wire—how can she even begin to apologize for the thing wearing her brother’s skin, knowing that it killed yours? For once, her hubris is crushed by the sinking feeling of humiliation.
“Was your first quest all you thought it would be, Annie?”
As she takes her navy cap off, silver braided strands around her face wave in the wind as a reminder of what Luke put her through. Though as she looks at you now with your berry-stained fingers plucking at stems one by one instead of using your powers, she thinks that your mind is elsewhere—anywhere but here, where everything is a painful reminder of your five years as a camper.
Five years with Luke.
Mourning him isn’t a new feeling for either of you, even though he comes in and out of your lives like a poltergeist you want to bash across the head, just always out of reach. But he’s a constant, even when he’s not here and he’s what binds you two together as you huddle hidden away from the rest of camp.
“He did this for you.”
It’s not a question, more so a fact out of Annie’s mouth when you finally meet her eyes and sigh, “Luke’s always had a way going about things. The most stubborn man to ever live.” You toss another strawberry into the crate at your feet. No one’s working right now, trying to tend to the injured and the dead. Everyone’s doing their best to chase away the nightmares that are bound to come, and she knows you’ll be making rounds with her on the night shift to ease everyone’s anxieties. But there’s a thought so strong it makes her head hurt, bursting at the seams until she can’t stop with her last-ditch effort to fix her found family.
“Maybe if we find him, we can save—”
“He’s been out of time for a while now, Annabeth. We both knew that,” you say, voice firm and unwavering. You’ve never sounded so monotone before, and it hits her as her mouth falls agape, “You’re giving up on him? Why…why would you give up on him?” Anger courses through her veins like fire and she’s mad that she’s at the center of this prophecy, of Hermes’s anger for his doomed son who will love you until the ends of the earth.
And what of her?
What of the hope she has in happy endings, how is it that you’re so damn calm? Annabeth kicks at the crate, strawberries rolling out in different directions and your jaw tightens as you let her be petulant, let her scream and yell until her inner child can catch up with the reality of the world around you.
“How could you?”
Your name echoes as she repeats it, grabbing at your shoulders and she’s as desperate as the truth that shakes her when you cup her face in your hands and wipe her tears.
“You’ve carried the weight of the world Annabeth– you know what it feels like to let it go. It’s time to let him go. There’s nothing I can do or say to fix this.”
Then it hits her that you knew of his fate and yet this was still the outcome. There was nothing else to do but watch him be puppeteered by a Titan and have to fight evil while it wears his face.
“He came to you after he saw me, didn’t he? Why didn’t you tell me? Why don’t you love him anymore?”
Because it wouldn’t have changed a thing, your eyes say. Instead, you grimace as you say, “Wouldn’t that be funny if it were true?” You lean down and pick up the fallen berries, some bruised and covered in dirt, and then you look at her again with teary eyes.
“Some prophecy huh? To lose a love to worse than death. What could we have done besides love him until the end?”
“He’s still in there. I know you know that too. Don’t talk about him like he’s not,” Annabeth insists, and a sad smile settles upon your face. It’s as gentle as the kiss of the breeze on your cheeks.
“I lost a brother today, Annie.”
“Me too.”
The funny thing about planning funerals is that with all the fuss it takes to organize one, you still find extra time on your hands. Barely getting any sleep and dragging yourself out of your dad’s bed, Pollux snores loudly next to you after hours of working on Castor’s shroud. Sleep wasn’t expected for either of you, but being unconscious was the only way of giving your brains a reprieve. The both of you have been busy doubling down on the preparations, even if it means Mr. D won’t be back in time while he’s out rallying gods for war.
The faster Castor’s earthly body is reconnected with his soul, the easier his trip will be into the Underworld, Nico says, and it’s funny how comforting the little emo pipsqueak can be when it comes to matters of death.
Perhaps this is the solace you bring to others with things you’re able to control—keeping camp afloat is something you were always good at, and helping every traumatized child that comes up to you for a juice box or a lullaby eases the guilt that follows you. Walking around Camp Half-Blood for more than a weekend made you feel like a judge, jury, and executioner. Though most of the campers from almost five years ago have either aged out, defected, or died—the ones that remain still look at you like you’re trouble.
Perhaps you always will be.
You even found yourself with the time to pray to Hermes last night for your brother’s safe passage into the afterlife, though if he’s angry at Annabeth, he must hate you for letting Luke go. Dinner didn’t seem appetizing enough anyway, so your whole plate was tossed into the hearth. You hope he likes chicken and rice.
But if a god can’t fight fate, what did he expect you to do?
The Iris Message to your dad last night was difficult, to say the least. Pollux’s hands shook as he continued to paint grape vines onto the silk cloth and the both of you didn’t say anything when your father started to cry. He out of all of the gods knows what it’s like to be tested to the limits—to endure pain and it’s a gift you and your brother are grateful for in times like these. Watching the god display the human emotion that either of you couldn’t as freely made it more real though.
There was also the interesting predicament of Chris Rodriguez being locked up in the basement of the Big House. Replacing screaming fits with serenity was almost second nature, and your gentle hands were what got Clarisse to truly respect you again for the first time in years. You could hear her sneak downstairs and talk to him while he slept (and the look in her eyes when you’d greet her with a cup of coffee made it known to you that she finally understands what it means to love someone who’s lost—two demigod daughters filled with a lot of rage and hurt were more alike than they think).
So the morning of your little brother’s funeral, you found yourself on the shoreline of Canoe Lake, setting your Redbull against the post of the dock and looking out onto the water.
You needed to do something with your hands. In the past few days, if your fingers were not occupied by pen and paper, a guitar, supply crates, or anything else that was helpful to others and all the more distracting for you, it’s been so easy to pick at any little thing. Perhaps it was your subconscious trying to reflect the damage on the inside, but today, your nail polish was chipped beyond belief. A small price to pay to not lose it without a signature boyish smile to ease your worries and amber eyes that could help you escape from the routine.
Running camp was always easier back then with your runaway boy and his scarred cheek.
How pathetic.
Crouched over in the sand, you plucked stones and filled your pockets with them. They knocked against each other — weighing your pockets down as you walked closer to the dock. Swinging your feet off the side and chucking them into the water, you could barely achieve a ripple.
It’s so quiet that you end up wondering if the rocks in your pockets would weigh you down to the bottom of the lake. It must be nice down there, to exist away from everything.
Bubbles surface slowly in front of you, then Percy’s head bobs in the water as he squints at you through sunlight.
“You chucked a rock at my head!”
A smile tugs at your lips, almost indiscernible but definitely there, “I was trying to skip them. Didn’t know you were doing water tricks in there, kid.” His grin gleams like freshwater pearls, pulling himself up onto the dock as his hand clasps yours. Shaking his sopping hair, Percy’s gangly frame sits next to yours like a wet bag of sand—all wrinkly and misshapen and sprinkling you with lakewater.
“Maybe next time don’t pick rocks the size of your fist. How many have you got in there? Your aim is scarily accurate,” he laughs and you huff and shake your head when his hand sticks into your pocket and takes out a few smooth ones to roll around in his hand. You mirror him, watching him skip a few stones into the water that reach a good distance before sinking into the depths of the lake.
There’s something sad about feeling comfortable to trauma dump on the teenage son of Poseidon, but with the way he grabs your arm at your third unsuccessful toss of a rock, you can’t do anything else but sigh.
“Why didn’t any of you call me, Percy?”
He was waiting for this question—it’s been banging around in his head since the beginning of Annabeth’s quest, and perhaps her talk with you yesterday didn’t go as expected so once again he’s left with the difficult part.
Things happen to turn out pretty difficult for him a lot, he's noticed.
Many things could have been made easier in the past few weeks: Ariadne being your stepmother and her blessing to you would’ve made the Labyrinth easier to navigate, and having another demigod to fight alongside him instead of a mortal girl would’ve been a plus too. But he looks at you with ocean eyes and a smaller smile that reminds you of how he looked at you when you dropped him off in Montauk the summer you met him and quit your head counselor job.
“You’ve already made a lot of difficult decisions. We weren’t sure if…”
The rotten wood beneath you creaks under your shifting weight as you turn to him, tucking your legs underneath your bottom.
“Didn’t think I could handle it?”
He shakes his head, “The opposite, actually. Annabeth has this notion that you’re the only one that can save him. You know, back on my first quest I met Luke’s dad and he told me something…”
You swallow instead of answering. There’s no way Percy is giving you Hermes’s advice right now. Somehow this feels like karmic retribution after years of spiting that asshole, and what he tells you next is more of a sign that it must be true.
“He said, ‘Do you know what that feels like? To be so close to someone you love knowing neither of you has any choice but to keep hurting each other?’ I didn’t get it then, but I do now.”
“With Luke and his mom?” you ask, picking at the remaining slivers of varnish on your thumbnail.
“With you and Luke. I didn’t call you, because… why would I want to see you hurt after everything?” Percy says this like it’s something he would do for everyone.
Perhaps it is, but the knot that forms in your throat feels as heavy as the boulder you almost sunk into his skull. He’s tall enough to lean your head against now, and you don’t mind the water spots that will form along the side of your funeral outfit. The shape of him it leaves will remind you of the little brother you gained through so much loss.
“Plus he has a new girlfriend. Absolute horse of a girl,” he jokes. It slips over your head but you still giggle, “I could’ve taken her.”
“I know, that was Grover’s worry. You’re prettier anyway…” Percy pauses, and then clears his throat, “You’ve always taken care of this place, y’know? Even after….I just think someone ought to take care of you.”
Your shoulder bumps against his as you finally skip a rock. It only bounces across the water twice and you think Percy might have had something to do with it, but you’re not bothered by the help this time around.
You wake up in the dark of night to see your dad looming in the doorway to his office. With drool and a post-it stuck to your cheek, he comes over to ruffle your hair in amicable silence.
“Hard at work or hardly working?” he chuckles, leaning over your shoulder to scan over the paperwork sorted into piles for him to sign from his absence.
“Hm. You wish,” you scoff, leaning against your arm as you look at him. He’s not in his usual eyesore of attire, wearing a clean-pressed suit with his hair slightly slicked back.
“You look good. The meeting went okay?”
“Grover will be. The Council of Cloven Elders? Not so much. Neither are the gods ready to take sides. Putting out little fires everywhere as we speak.”
The wheels of the office chair roll as you swing your feet, and if you both listen closely enough you can hear Pollux snoring upstairs. Chiron loved the earplugs you gave him.
Your father’s face smooths out a bit at the sight of you and the sound of his son’s breathing upstairs and he asks, “Are you? Good?”
A shrug slides off your shoulders, “How does one be good in a world like this one?”
A startling scream echoes off the walls of the Big House, rattling the floorboards from below as your father grimaces.
The work is never done for you two.
“Don’t look at me like that. It was worse when he first came here.”
“Don’t doubt it,” he mumbles, brushing lint off your shirt before he notices you’re donning neon orange. “Didn’t do laundry, princess?”
“Pollux and I haven’t gone back to our cabin since... I can wake him up if you—”
Mr. D shakes his head and goes to toss his body onto the couch against the window, shutting his eyes and taking a deep breath.
“Dad? Do you think Chris is a bad person?”
A beat passes and you think he may have fallen asleep, but then his voice sounds like gravel scraping up his throat.
“I don’t think anyone can be bad, kid. I think it is more often that people get lost. What Rodriguez needs is someone to take hold of him gently, and hand his life back to him—you…Clarisse… that’s what we’re giving him.”
Now you’re silent, staring at the dust on his name placard at the edge of the desk.
“Do you think otherwise?”
He calls your name again, and you look up like you’re about to lie to him but don’t have the energy to.
“Princess, do you think you’re a bad person?”
He stands up and walks around to your side of the desk, sitting on the edge so you have to look at him.
“I killed someone. During the battle. Didn’t even think twice about it, slashed his neck as soon as Castor went down and…” you sniff. “I kill monsters, not children, Dad. How does that make me any different?”
The last time blood was on your hands like this it was Luke’s in the Garden of Hesperides. All these years later you ended up being right— the only person you vowed to get bloody for is Luke Castellan, and now in a twisted turn of fate, you’ve bloodied your hands because of him.
“Because you did it for your brother. There are no other explanations needed.”
He sees the exhaustion in your eyes, the drop in your shoulders, but your dad also sees the strength in your bones that spans generations and he knows you and Pollux are strong because you are both his.
“Humans believe in life everlasting—glory, as some call it, but they’re too focused on achieving it on earth instead of enjoying what life has to offer,” he scoffs, “Everyone has the guts to die, but no one has the guts to truly live. How sad.”
“His name was Rowan. Son of Hecate. I taught him how to whistle the summer I left. This is all my fault, Dad,” you say shakily as he comes near and pulls you into his side. He shushes you but you relent.
“Luke’s killing all these people to fulfill a promise he made for me. I’m just fucking disgusted with myself for being the cause of it all. What good life can I deserve when wherever I go I leave a trail of blood?”
Love and addiction must be so alike; to know that to be sober you can’t indulge in the vice ever again—not only does it hurt you, but others around you. But through the years you’ve always kept the taste of his name in your mouth, the feeling of his skin under your fingertips, and the knowledge of why he’s destroying the world so he can make you a better one. Insanity stems from fighting for so long that you embrace the pain; feeling something so intensely that when it consumes you you’re able to walk out the other side and wear it as armor.
Not everyone is hardwired to persevere. There are moments like a night like these where it would be easy to give up. Instead, you pour two glasses of whiskey you’ve conjured and hand one to your dad. You both sip on your drinks slowly, embracing the crawling feeling of the burn.
“Liquor is one way out and death is another,” your dad sighs blissfully. He almost looks rejuvenated by the alcohol he knows he’ll hear about from Zeus later, but perhaps the death of his son is a good enough pardon.
“For some of us, we don’t have to think about the answer.”
Mr. D grabs a pen off the desk and starts signing papers to do something with his hands, and then you speak again, “I think I’d rather die than for people I love,” and your dad’s attention whips to your blank face staring at the moon outside the window. “Instead of killing for them. I’ve never been a good soldier, Dad.”
Mr. D looks at you thoughtfully and wonders where all the time has gone that you sit there in front of him with more knowledge than him at your mortal age before saying, “You’re my daughter. You’re a fighter. Death is for chumps anyway.”
He lifts you by the arm to try to usher you up the stairs but you stay in his office chair swatting his hands away.
“Got work to do, you and I. Not getting rid of me until it’s done.”
“When are you going home?” he asks, pulling up a chair next to yours.
“I am home.”
You don’t look up from the papers you were filing, stubbornness leaking through your voice.
“If there is a war coming, I want to be home as much as I can. I’m finishing my last semester and I’ll be here before and after classes. You can’t stop me, dad.”
And he knows that too.
There is no such thing as leaving Camp Half-Blood for you.
Never for too long. Your love for it is scattered everywhere campers can see.
In all these years, you never believed I loved you. And I did. I did so much. I did love you. I even loved your hate and your hardness. - Tennessee Williams
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oizysian · 1 month
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hey, I love your writing! I wanted to request an elizabeth olsen x female reader fic smut where reader is also an actress and for a movie she needs to have a hot makeout scene with an actor (and reader agrees to do it only after seeking Lizzie’s permission ofcourse) and while lizzie thinks she would be okay with it, afterall its only work. But when she witnesses the shooting of the scene and the retakes and the post production final cut… yes she is feeling things. And so she and u have some fun time in bed and as she completely destroys u all she has in her head is “mine.” Its okay if u dont write it too, no pressure! :)
Bliss | Elizabeth Olsen
Word count: 1.5k
Warnings: fingering (R receiving), lots of kisses, possessive/jealous Lizzie
AN: thank you so much! I’m getting to all my anons slowly, but requests are still open (always)!
“Are you really sure it’s okay?” She asked for probably the millionth time.
“Yes, dove,” Elizabeth laughed, kissing Y/N’s forehead. “It’s perfectly okay. I do it all the time and I’ll be there watching so I know there won’t be any funny business.” She teased.
“No funny business from me.” Y/N smiled. “I’m completely obsessed with you.” She wrapped her arms around her girlfriends neck. “I’m gonna imagine it’s you the whole time.”
Lizzie laughed again.
“Better not think it’s me too much. I don’t want it going farther than it has to.”
Y/N scrunched up her nose and smiled up at her, kissing the corner of her mouth.
“You don’t have any stubble so that’ll definite ruin the immersion.”
“Good.” She tilted her head slightly so she could kiss her fully, slipping her tongue past her full lips, tongues and teeth clashing as they both expressed without words how much they meant to each other.
Y/N pulled away first, panting softy as she looked up at the puffy, pink lips of her girlfriend.
“It’s almost time for us to go. Brendan and I are shooting our scene today.”
“And Brendan better keep it professional.”
“He will.” She giggled, giving her a quick peck before releasing her and walking towards the door to retrieve her shoes.
Y/N knew that Lizzie would be keeping watch like a guard dog the whole time and the thought made her giddy and warm with love. She had never had someone so protective, so loving towards her before. It was something new that she never wanted to lose.
“Are you ready?” She asked as she slipped on her sneakers, Lizzie nodding at her before grabbing her car keys off the table.
“Ready.”
After Y/N had her hair and makeup done, she was ready for her first kissing scene with a man. Or anyone, actually. This was her first big film and she had only accepted the job after making sure it was okay with her girlfriend a thousand times. She assured her time and time again that it would be fine, but Y/N was still a nervous wreck.
Lizzie watched as the actors got into position, feeling very odd being on the opposite side of the camera for once. She smiled at Y/N, an encouraging, loving smile, letting her know she would do great – and Lizzie knew she would. Y/N was a fantastic up and coming talent and she only hoped she’d be able to work beside her girlfriend one day.
“Alright everyone! This is scene twenty-two, take one!”
Everyone got quiet and all eyes were on Y/N and her co-star Brendan. They both looked quite frightened, smiling at each other and giggling at their nervousness. Lizzie felt a pang of jealousy bubble up in her chest at the sight. No, this was just a job. She watched seen Elizabeth do a sex scene, for gods sake – this was just a kiss.
“And … action!”
Instantly, Y/N went from nervous to professional, as did Brendan, and they began to act out their scene. Lizzie watched in awe as her girlfriend actually made it believable that she was in love with this man, and held her breath as they got closer and closer to each other.
The kiss was passionate and fiery to onlookers, but Y/N would describe it as chaste and flavorless. As much as she tried to imagine she was kissing Elizabeth, the harsh reality of the kiss was brushing against her face – stubble was not a nice feeling.
“And, cut! Beautiful work, you two! Have a nice break.”
They parted, Y/N instantly pulling away from her co-star and smiling politely at him, congratulating him on a job well done. She looked from Brendan to Lizzie and could almost see the smoke coming out of her ears. Her eyes her deep, dark green and her lips were pursed.
Y/N walked up to her, taking her hand and tugging on it before speaking to her.
“How’d I do?”
Lizzie shifted her eyes from Brendan, who she was staring daggers at, to Y/N, her gaze softening at how innocent her girlfriend was.
“You did amazing, baby. I believed it.” She let out a shaky laugh and Y/N smiled slightly at the compliment.
“Thank you. It was so hard to imagine it was you with that stubble brushing against my chin.”
She smiled up at Lizzie and she did her best to return the gesture. Seeing Y/N with someone else did something to her. She couldn’t quite explain it, but it made her want to claim her, make it so that Y/N would never look at anyone else ever.
“What’d you think of the movie?” Y/N asked softly, propping herself up on her elbow as she looked over at her girlfriend who barely said a word after watching it.
“I thought it was good.” She rolled over to face her, but couldn’t help gritting her teeth at the memory of Y/N kissing someone that wasn’t her. “You were fantastic.”
“You think so?” She blushed, the pink hue traveling down towards the fullness of her breasts, coloring her normally pale skin.
She nodded and brought her hand up to stroke her cheek. Y/N leaned into her touch, almost purring at the affection and praise she was receiving.
“You just …” she spoke quietly, not wanting to ruin the moment. “You just seemed so quiet after we watched it. I thought you might not have liked it.”
“I did.” She assured her, her thumb stroking the softness of her cheek. “I just …”
Y/N tilted her head in question, waiting for her to continue.
“Seeing you with someone else … made me feel things I’ve never felt before.”
“What’d you feel?” She asked nervously.
“Jealousy. The urge to just take you. Make you mine.”
“I am yours.” Y/N assured her, and Lizzie nodded.
“I know.”
Y/N slid herself closer to her girlfriend, burying her face in the crook of her neck and kissing her softly.
“Why don’t you then?” She whispered.
“Hm?” Lizzie questioned.
“Take me.”
Without another word, Lizzie flipped them over, peppering Y/N’s neck with hot, open mouthed kisses, leaving a trail down her body as she reached her breasts that were covered by a flimsy tank top.
Lizzie sat on top of her, tugging the garment up and over her head and tossing it off the bed. She latched onto one of her nipples before Y/N could even register that she was topless, and she grabbed a fistful of golden locks as her tongue swirled around the hardened bud.
“Lizzie,” she moaned softly, her eyes falling shut as she felt her teeth sink gently into her sensitive flesh. “Need you.”
Her hands greedily grabbed at her hips, lifting them up so she could slide her shorts and panties off. The rest of her clothes met with the forgotten tank top and before anything else could be said, Lizzie pressed two fingers against her aching cunt, pushing them inside slowly.
“Ahh, Lizzie!” She cried out, her hips bucking as her strong fingers pumped in and out of her, curling when they were at the deepest point to hit her most sensitive spot.
Lizzie’s other hand gripped at her thigh, raising it up and wrapping it around her waist as she fucked her. She released her breast with a pop, leaving a dark, wet hickey behind. She smiled proudly at her work and raised herself back up so she could capture her lips with her own, claiming her mouth.
Y/N moaned softly as Lizzie took her completely, her tongue exploring her mouth, her fingers fucking her pussy.
Y/N rocked against her hand, her nails digging into the skin of Lizzie’s back as she fucked her hard and fast.
“You want more?” She asked breathlessly and she nodded eagerly.
She slipped herself out for just a second to then reenter her with three fingers, her thumb swirling around her throbbing clit. Y/N was seeing stars as she got fucked, her moans becoming pathetic whimpers.
“I feel you … fucking tight … you gonna cum for me?” She panted between kisses.
“Yes,” she whined, looking into the beautiful eyes of her girlfriend. “I’m gonna …”
Her jaw fell slack as she came, and Lizzie took this opportunity to slip her tongue back into her mouth, kissing her passionately. She swallowed her desperate moans, wanting to claim every inch of her; every sound, every motion she made, Lizzie wanted to keep for herself.
“My beautiful girl,” Lizzie whispered softly against her lips, watching as the other girl came down from her high. “And all mine.”
Y/N looked up at her with heavy eyes, smiling lazily at her words.
“I told you,”
She slipped her fingers out of her wetness, bringing them up to her mouth and sucking them clean.
Lizzie’s mind was full of Y/N. She was surrounded by her; her smell, her taste, the feel of her. All she could think about was making her scream with pleasure all night, giving her hickeys all over her body and leaving her completely blissed out. She knew that nobody else would make her feel like this, and she knew she wouldn’t want to mark her territory on anyone else. Y/N was all that she wanted.
“I’m yours.”
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runnning-outof-time · 10 months
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Tumblr media
K, darling!! I'm sending you this one, because you sent me a gif, too ❤️❤️.
Probably Tommy is struggling with something, too. Feel you, Tom 🤝.
Thanks for sending this my way, Flor!! I truly feel Tommy here…this have been my exact reaction when thinking about writing/wanting to write these past few weeks - it’s gotten a bit better since you’ve sent this, but I still can’t help but struggle slightly from hour to hour. Since you went lighthearted on the gif I sent you, I figured I’d do the same here. I…really don’t know what came of it - like I said, writing has been hour to hour for me. But I hope you’ll maybe get a laugh from it. ☺️. Enjoy! :)
PLEASE LET ME KNOW WHAT YOU THINK!
A Much Welcomed Distraction
Tommy Shelby x Reader
Warnings: language, smoking
Summary: (Y/N) tries to get Tommy’s mind off of the work he’s been struggling with. Tommy, for once, accepts the distraction, until he realizes that maybe he will have to finish his work first.
No matter what he did, the words wouldn’t come out right. He’d been trying to figure out how to address the receiver of this letter for at least an hour now. Who would have thought that it’d be hard to write to the fucking Prime Minister of England? Tommy certainly didn’t upon initially thinking of the idea. Now here he was, stuck after a paragraph as he wondered if his word choice would be correct enough to get Winston Churchill to actually want to finish reading it.
He was so invested in his writing - or his attempt to do so - that he didn’t even hear the door opening. It wasn’t until he heard the voice of his wife that he looked up: “Lizzie told me you’d be in here.”
Tommy only nodded, just barely glancing up at her before focusing on the paper again. He didn’t miss the sound of her footsteps approaching the desk though.
“What’re you working on?” she asked him, coming to his side and leaning against the desk to take a look at the paper in front of him.
“A much needed letter,” he answered, exhaling a bit of a sigh as he slouched back against his chair. He could feel her lean in closer, perhaps to take a better look at the letter.
“Dear Mr. Churchill…” she started off, reading in a formal tone. There was a bit of a pause before the sound of her heels turning on the hardwood was heard, “you’re writing to the bloody Prime Minister, Tommy?” she asked, a bit of surprise laced into her words.
“I am, yes,” he answered her with a nod, glancing up at her before continuing, “expect there hasn’t been much writing happening,” he ended his statement with a sigh, bringing his left hand up to run across his face before he pinched the bridge of his nose.
“Well I can see why…it isn’t every day you write a letter to a man of that standing,” (Y/N) commented, her words making Tommy exhale a snort; one that she couldn’t help but roll her eyes at, “it’s an extraordinary feat, Tommy…I certainly wouldn’t know what to say,” she defended herself.
“It needs to get written,” he mumbled, reaching out to grab the half spent cigarette from the ashtray so that he could take a deep drag from it, “and it needs to happen before any other order of business comes up,” he concluded, smoke accompanying his words as he uttered them. He finished his stressed statement off with another drag before snuffing the cigarette out in the ashtray. He then sat back again, exhaling another frustrated huff as he did so.
“I see…” (Y/N) trailed off, nodding her head in understanding. She had an inkling of a thought that this was business related. With every move Tommy made, he had to do the background work to make sure that it was well calculated and would turn out the way he wanted it to. Oftentimes he’d frustrate himself in the process of completing that background work. “It isn’t worth beating yourself up over though, I’m sure. Take a break, maybe?” she suggested. It didn’t come as much of a surprise that his reaction to her suggestion was an incredulous one.
“Hmm,” he hummed at her statement, and (Y/N) couldn’t really discern if it was a hum of agreement, or of disapproval.
“Maybe I can take your mind off of it then?” she offered another suggestion, biting on her lip to stop the grin from forming when his eyes snapped up to her face. “You liked the sound of that, didn’t you?” she questioned, letting her grin show as she sat her hand flat on the desk and leaned her weight against it.
“Love, I need to write this letter,” Tommy stayed steadfast on his priorities. Despite the dismay in his tone, he didn’t exactly disagree with her suggestion.
“Doesn’t seem to be much writin’ going on,” (Y/N) quipped back, her words making him quirk an eyebrow in her direction.
They held each others stares until Tommy exhaled another sigh. After running a hand over his face, he dragged his eyes up to her. “What do you have in mind?” he asked, his words coaxing a grin from his wife.
“I’m happy you asked,” she chirped, moving to sit down on his lap. Tommy welcomed her with open arms, his hands falling onto her hips so that she would be secure. “I was just thinking that maybe I’d give you a kiss…” she paused, her hands falling onto his shoulders before she leaned in and pressed her lips to his, “…or two…” she kissed him again. A look of amusement formed on Tommy’s face. “And that maybe those kisses would help some ambition for writing to return,” she concluded, going in for a slightly longer kiss then.
“I thought you were working to distract me from writing, love?” he questioned her intentions when she pulled away.
(Y/N) couldn’t help but giggle at his question. “I wouldn’t exactly say distract…” she paused, lifting her one hand to tap on her chin as a physical show that she was thinking on how to finish her statement, “instead maybe I’m giving you a taste of what’s to come later,” she ended off her statement with a quick, suggestive glance; one that Tommy most certainly didn’t miss.
“A taste?” he asked another question, his eyebrows now raised.
“Yes. Of what’s to come later…after you finish writing your letter,” she added more detail, biting on her lip as she watched to see if he’d catch the stipulation that she’d thrown in there.
“After?” the inflection in his voice showed that he most certainly caught the stipulation.
“Of course,” (Y/N) responded like it was no big deal, “you said it yourself, it needs to get written before any other order of business comes up…” she trailed off then, a smirk full on across her features now.
The way he was clenching his jaw told her that she was grinding all of the right gears inside of him at this moment. It honestly egged her on even more.
“(Y/N)…” he tried, a bit of a warning tone laced into his voice. It didn’t deter (Y/N) from her plan in the slightest though. She leaned in and kissed his lips one last time before managing to free herself from his grasp so that she could stand up.
“I said that I’d get your mind off of it…and I think that I just did. Don’t keep me waiting up, Mr. Shelby,” she sent him an innocent smile as she backed away from his desk. Tommy said nothing as she backed herself all the way over to where the sitting area of his office was. There, she grabbed her coat and put it on. Then she blew him one last kiss before turning and walking to the door without looking back.
Tommy didn’t exhale the sigh he was holding in until the door shut. He then looked back down to the paper sitting on his desk, wracking his brain in hopes that sentences would form. “Dear Mr. Churchill…” he mumbled to himself before he began writing like his hand had been possessed by another being; coming out with words and sentence structures that he couldn’t begin to think of earlier. On second thought…maybe it had been possessed by another being.
Either way, he managed to write the letter in its entirety without taking a break or even looking towards the clock. Considering it a done deal, he left it on the desk for himself to proofread tomorrow. Now he needed to get home to his wife, who had provided a much welcomed distraction and got him back on track.
———
Tagged: @mystcldydrms @the-anxious-youth @cloudofdisney @look-at-the-soul @elenavampire21 @mrsalwayswrite @julkaamazing @evita-shelby @lilyrachelcassidy @notyour-valentine @shelbydelrey @onlydeadcells @peakyswritings @just-a-blackhole @watercolorskyy @strayrockette @peakyduchesss @alexxavicry @captivatedbycillianmurphy @yummycastiel @dark-academia-slut @tommystargirl @stevie75 @lyarr24 @signorellisantichrist @zablife @anotherblinder @midnightmagpiemama @cillmequick @rangerelik @dandelionprints @letal-y-poetica @itscheybaby @gypsy-girl-08 @insanitybyanothername @depxiety @raincoffeeandfandoms @dragons-are-my-favorite @acewritesfics @forgottenpeakywriter @cljordan-imperium @areyenotfondofmelobster @little-diable @thomashelbyswife @iambored24601 @shaddixlife
MASTERLIST
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rwrbficrecs · 7 months
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Here's our October recs ❤️ also, look at our new banner !! 🥰 Happy reading !! I’m just too soft for all of it by @bellamysgriffinprincess (book/movie-verse)
@dot524: This is a sweet one shot where Henry is struggling with depression, Alex drops everything to be with him, and they comfort each other. Very well done.
Confidential Memorandum by @sherryvalli (book-verse)
@wilmonsfolklore: this is such a sweet kidfic. Henry is Alex's boss, and Alex keeps getting calls from Henry's daughter when Henry is busy. It's heartwarming and comforting and the dialogue is wonderfully written, especially their love confessions.
@babiemonk: the perfect lighthearted kidfic! The child dynamic is perfect and the humor is spot-on. If you’re looking for a fun, feel good, story with some domestic fluffiness this is it.
@rmd-writes: a sweet, funny fic with excellent banter, and a stellar supporting cast of OCs. It quite literally made my face do this: 🥰 I saved it with the note "read when you need to feel better about the universe).
Aged Like a Fine Wine by @three-drink-amy (book-verse)
@babiemonk: Alex and Henry are older now and cakegate never happened. There’s lots of emotions and angst and growth and it’s really quite beautiful but also tragic at times. It hurt my heart and my feelings before putting them back together again.
In my dreams (In your dreams) by @lizzie-bennetdarcy (book-verse)
@babiemonk: very cute drunken love confessions— absolutely precious friends to lovers
all of our love filling all of our room by @kill8a (book-verse)
@inexplicablymine: this is so incredibly soft and childhood friends to lovers I have reread this more times than I’m willing to admit
Help Me Hold On To You by @affectionatelyrs (book-verse)
@read-and-write-: A one- shot, a very cathartic one about the aftermath of a fight between Alex and Henry. This is one to cry from beginning to end, it's beautifully written and you will be left speechless.
flatline by rizcriz (book-verse)
@wilmonsfolklore: exes to lovers is one of my favourite tropes and this work shows perfectly how naturally and fully Henry and Alex love each other. it's sad and heartbreaking but it has a happy ending that makes the crying all worth it.
What I Need Tonight by @sparklepocalypse (book-verse)
@zwiazdziarka: This fic was written for Kinktober's prompt "selfcest", which for some might be sound a little too weird, but that's exactly why I picked this one as my monthly fave. If you like reading smut, give this a chance. Yes, it's hot but also emotional and it has Oxford-time slutty Henry!
heartbeats under coats by @hypnostheory (book-verse)
@heybuddy-drabbles: one of my favorite works to come out of FirstPrince week. It's really sweet and sexy. There was only one bed at its finest.
All Booked Up by @three-drink-amy (book-verse)
@heybuddy-drabbles: another FirstPrince week gem. This was just so beautiful. Alex and Henry meet during a vacation, spend three perfect days together and then loose contact until June and Nora force Alex to read a book they both love and something about it makes Alex think of Henry. I absolutely fell in love with it.
@rmd-writes: it's no secret that I'm an allmylovesatonce fan and this is one of my ultimate favourites of hers. A very cleverly told love story, with some wonderful June and Nora content as a bonus!
praying our bridges don’t make waves by @anincompletelist (book-verse)
@rhubarb1210: This fic is such a cool take on soulmates. Henry agrees to pretend to be Alex’s soulmate to get June health insurance. Lots of universe building. And I can’t give away more! Inspired by Fractured by @clottedcreamfudge
everything's growing in our garden by matherine (book-verse with a few movie elements)
@indomitable-love: Absolutely loved this hanahaki fic – the pacing and tension are so good, the relevance of all the different flowers is just beautiful
It's Nice to Have a Friend by @mainstreamelectricalparade (book-verse)
@read-and-write-: Childhood Best Friends to lovers AU, where Henry, the prince of england meets another boy during a holiday, they send each other letters and they fall in love, it's soft and it's beautiful, a love that tascends the page and is reflected on all the characters actions.
I feel the beating of your heart, I see the shadows on your face by @anincompletelist (book-verse)
@daisymae-12: This fic has such an interesting premise, and although I’ve never been into the bodyswap trope I’m so glad I gave this one a chance. It was done so incredibly well and was such a fun, wholesome fic.
Henry Fox, All-American Hero by @tintagel-or-cockleshells (book-verse)
@daisymae-12: This is a fic inspired by Meg Cabot’s All American Girl (which I am a huge fan of) and everything about this fic had me screaming in delight. Loved this so much, I’m obsessed.
maybe take me into your room by @smc-27 (book-verse)
@thesleepyskipper: Alex and Henry are both the children of ambassadors to Canada from their respective countries in this lovely AU. Friends-to-lovers perfection, this was so, so good.
a degree of fate by @softlofty (book/movie-verse)
@dot524: In this AU, Alex and Henry meet as university students. This is a sweet get-together fic with depth and heart.
It's Tradition by @f-ing-ruthless-baz (book-verse)
@zwiazdziarka: Alex and Henry's soulmate bond revealed itself publicly and now they have to act like they're in love, even though they hate each other. This fic is such an excellent use of soulmate trope and looks into so many possiblities in a world were soulmate bonds exsist. It's also super funny, a little angsty and Alex is even more oblivious than usually.
I’d be smart to walk away (but you’re quicksand) by @littlemisskittentoes (book/movie-verse)
@dot524: Such a wonderful, heartfelt 5+1 based on canon events when Henry walked away and one where he stayed.
Catalyst of Change by @uglygreenjacket (book-verse)
@myheartalivewrites: an AU that’s pretty close to canon in some ways: Alex (still a well known child of politicians) and Henry (still a prince) meet as students in Edinburgh. This story is sweet and gentle and heart wrenching at points, but also incredibly uplifting in Henry and Alex’s determination to be together no matter the obstacles. And the Scottish setting is gorgeous and really evocative.
Ghosted by @tintagel-or-cockleshells (book-verse)
@suseagull04: Twists and turns abound in this story that borders the line between life and death. I love the depth of the plot and just how deeply and quickly Alex and Henry fall for each other- and the fantasy aspect immediately put this high on my list of faves! Not to mention all the great references to my favorite things throughout the fic. This fic is amazing!
Such a Burden, This Flame on My Chest by @three-drink-amy (book-verse)
@heybuddy-drabbles: a 911 Lone Star!AU very angsty but with a happy ending. Alex going through grief felt really fucking relatable. It's also spicy in contrast with the angst.
But I love him, whether or no. by @leaves-of-laurelin (book-verse)
@dot524: This firefighter AU is one of my favorite RWRB fics ever, and I’m glad I was able to follow it from WIP status to complete this month. Alex as a firefighter is irresistible (Henry thinks so too) and somehow these two feel so true to character even in a completely different context. There are so many fun scenes here - riding a bull, an airport scene, shenanigans at a fire station, sentimental piano playing - but none of them are forced. Truly a wonderful fic that I know I’ll be returning to again and again.
@wilmonsfolklore: seconding this one so so so much!! read it in one sitting and have been thinking about it ever since then. there are so many heartfelt and sweet conversations in it. everyone's so true to their character in such a different situation. can not recommend it enough
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bu-blegh-ost · 5 months
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A short essay about how Caspian is mathematically not a mole (ep. 115 spoilers) (and for the whole series for that matter)
Okay, alright guys, I saw your concerns. I saw it all, and you are right to be worried that your favourite blue wet man's blue and equally wet best friend may turn out to be a traitor. And so am I, trust me. Which is why I went through every single bit of Caspian's past I could dig out to create an unltimate timeline of his entire goddamn life to see it it'd be plausible for him to become a mole at any point in time and ultimately prove his innocence! If that's something you're interested in reading, then buckle up!
"Jay, you come from a division of soliders that were purposely put to infiltrate pirate crews, especially the new and upcoming ones. This is totally seperate from the Black-Ops situation that you learned about in the Stronghold. And you, in this book, can tell that there is a plant on Lizzie's crew."
This, of course is something I need to point out first. Whoever Lizzie's mole might be, they are not a doppelganger. They are not a clone, or Black-Ops, just a solider of the Navy, a person that must have gotten into the Navy via regular recruitment, be trained by them and then put into a spy division. Jay ofc had this entire process sped up, due to her grandma's influence, but no one other than her, especially an Undersea citizen, who would probably have to put in extra effort to be trusted given their shaky political situation few years back, would get the same treatment. What I'm trying to say, Caspian would need time, at least few years of training to become a mole they'd trust to infiltrate a crew, and not just any crew might I add. More on that later. Let's go back to his most early years for now. This is a fragment of episode 84 in which Caspian talks to Gillion abt his early life:
C: We all have family. I consider my life up here, this crew to be my found family. But my previous…tribe with the water genasi in the Undersea, where I was growing up…sort of in a [illegible]... remember me telling you about the outskirts? We um…was very nomadic, quite a, quite a peaceful, tranquil life, but it was always, you know…mixed with this life of poverty and my family wasn’t very…wouldn’t really have much but the water around us, and each other, I suppose, so uh…You know...I mean my mother didn’t make it past old age, and uh…
G: I’m sorry…
C: When my sister left the tribe, my father sort of fell into a depression of sorts and he stopped moving around. And when we stayed in one place, I was 18 or so, maybe 16, it was a while ago, and then…that’s when I left as well. Ventured to the Oversea, and um…and it’s history, so that’s my family. Not sure what they’re up to these days, I mean…I know my sister went to the capital, where you were.
G: Pirating is a pretty lucrative business, maybe if…we managed to find them or run into them, we can give something back, put them in a better situation.
C: …Well um…I mean this was 10-15, 10 to 12 to 15 years ago, quite some, quite some time, so I don’t even know if my father is alive still, I mean I don’t really have the desire to go back to the undersea, Gill.
G: Wha-why not?
C: Because I like my life up here. This is where I’m happy.
So, before we go to what all of that entails, one more quick crazy thing to mention: so, Caspian's sister is an Elder of the Undersea. Like for sure. This is confirmed by this part from ep. 79:
The Triton who you remember as the Elder Odolaf, who looks like he is about to speak, but is cut off by the water genasi, who has been doing a lot of talking thus far, who is Elder Celeste. They stand up and there is a familiarity that you notice now in their face. It’s like you have met them before, but not in the way that you know them because they are the Elder, but in a way that it’s like, they look like somebody you know. And she has sort of these uh, white tied-up like dreads that are tied up in like a bun and they come across the face and then one side is shaved. And there are beads and piercings in her hair, her ears are a little bit more sea elf-like in the way that they are pointed and they kind of like gradient into pink. They all kind of wear the same sort of ornate robes, though hers is more, I guess faded and like cut a bit, look a bit more warriorous, or like tribal, but still very well-made and professional.
Tribal clothing, a water genasi, that looks like someone Gillion saw before in the face. The only water genasi Gillion met after leaving the Undersea is Caspian. Elder Celeste is Caspian's sister. Wild. Anyway, not what we're here for, but I needed to mention that.
The crazier thing is that Caspian left to Oversea when he was 16-18, and it has been 10-15 years since then. That means Caspian is currently 26 at possible youngest, and 33 at his oldest, which was surprising to me, I did not imagine Caspian as a man in his 30s! But that's straight up facts, so holy shit, you know?
Okay, so I'm going to list a lot of small facts that determine a lot of ages in quick succession. I hope it's not gonna be too scary to look at, I'll simplify it all at the end. [Deep inhale]
Right now Gillion is 22. So when Caspian left the Undersea, Gillion was 12-7. Jay is 21 and Ava was 2 years older, same age as Lizzie. So Lizzie is 23 now. When Caspian left the Undersea, she was 13-8. Chip is 19, so Lizzie is 4 years older. Hole in the Sea happened when Chip was 9, so Lizzie was 13. So Caspian left the Undersea around the same time Lizzie crashed on the uninhabited island with Chey after the Hole.
It's a lot, I know, I know. So let me clear this up a little.
Hole in the sea was 10 years ago. Chip was 9, Lizzie was 13. 10 years ago Caspian was in the age between 16 and 23, and he left the Undersea when he was 16 or 18. So roughly at the same time the Black Sea happened, Caspian came to the surface for the first time.
(also pls note that we are talking in estimates, casue in ep. 36 Lizzie says she was 11 when the hole happened, but in ep. 101 she says she was the same age as Ava which by the power of math would put her at 13. Either way, somewhere around that age)
After that, Lizzie spend some time on an uninhabited island with Chey, the Black Rose cook, who sacrificed herself for Liz, so she could survive and died shortly after. We do not know how much time passed, but I assume no longer than few months, and after that she was saved by Captain Shadowbeard where she met Caspian. They were a part of Shadowbeard's crew, Caspian saved her from the massacre where Shadowbeard was killed, and then Lizzie went on to create her own crew, Grandberry Pirates with Caspian never leaving her for a second since he met her. That means that the only time Caspian could have joined the Navy would be RIGHT after he came to the Oversea for the first time, roughly at the same time Lizzie was stranded on an island, and in that short period of time (between Lizzie's crash on the island and her being found by Shadowbeard) he would have to find the time to be trusted and accepted by Navy, get trained specifically for infiltration AND infiltrate not anyones BUT FUCKING SHADOWBEARD'S SHIP. Not a NEW crew. A crew of one of the most legendary pirates on the sea. Cause before Lizzie, Caspian was Sadowbeard's crew member, and since then he never stopped being a pirate, so if he was a solider, he would have had to be one before Shadowbeard. And remeber what Grizzly said in 115: "Jay, you come from a division of soliders that were purposely put to infiltrate pirate crews, especially the new and upcoming ones."
Shadowbeard was not new. Not upcoming. He was dangerous and Navy must have had the balls of steal to send a rookie solider, which Caspian would have been at that point in time, to infiltrate him. The numbers say it's impossible. Guys, the numbers! They don't add up!
Anyway, so basically Caspian could not be a mole. He is not a new pirate, he was not a member of a fresh crew, becaue his pirate journey did not start with Lizzy, it started with Shadowbeard. Grandberry Pirates is a new crew, but Caspian is not a newbie in it. You know who is? Rudith. I mean what kind of doctor lets a bunch of rowdy pirates have a secret base under a place where sick and vulnerable rest??? Like ANY other place would have been better and more respectful! Also you know what's interesting? Gillion could heal these people with lay on hands easily, and yet the only thing Rudith did for them was give them potions that didn't seem to help and look after them on purely non-medical level. Bro didn't do shit. Like, why would you even become a doctor without having access to healing magic? The answer, you are not. You are a Navy solider in disguise.
Okay, okay, I'm done, that's all. If you got this far, you are a hero, thank you for reading this insanely long ramble, but that's kind of the conclusions that I came to, of course, any counter-theories and discussion in general is very much welcome! I'd love to hear your opinions! Love you guys, bye~
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juiles · 10 months
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All to well
Plot: idk. have fun!
Type: angst and fluff
Warnings: i am in no way saying that this is how all autistic people are!! This fic is based off my PERSONAL experience with autism and sensory overload. Please remember this as you read!!
Masterlist here!
Request here!
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Being autistic has drawbacks for a normal person, but for an actress in Marvel movies, it was tough. I’m proud of who I am but I didn’t want the pitying looks, the comments or being stuck as only getting the “autistic” role so for my own sake, I’m not super open about it.
My parents are ashamed of it so they never told anyone and I was forced to mask anytime I was around anyone. Not even Scar knew, and she was my best friend, almost a mother figure to me. I didn’t want her to think any different of me. She’s known me since i was 7 and played her on screen adopted daughter in Iron Man 2.
We’re filming Endgame right now. I’m on my way to set with Scarlett. Today has been a rough day for me so far as my parents woke me up by screaming at me which then caused me to struggle in keeping my mask up. Scar picked me up and I’m already exhausted, I’ve caught myself stimming a few times and quickly stopped it.
When we pulled into the parking lot, i grabbed my bag and walked with her through set to our trailers where we left our stuff and we’re immediately shuffled to makeup and costumes.
“Oh shit…” I mutter staring at the costume in Erica’s hand. “I didn’t realize it was a fight scene today…”
“Babe.” Erica, my assistant and on set guardian says. She’s known about me since the first day which was when i was 7. “You’ve known about this for a week. Are you okay?”
“I’m super over stimulated right now…” I murmur tapping my leg in sets of 7, a common stim for me.
“Let’s do hair and makeup first okay? Keep you out of the costume until the last second okay?” I nod and the two of us move to hair and makeup where Scarlett is getting her hair done.
“Hey, where’s your costume kid?” She asks looking over at me.
“I uh-“ I glance at Erica who steps in for me quickly.
“It had a small tear in it so it’s getting fixed quickly.” Scarlet merely hums in response and I sit. Getting my wig on and makeup done is awful, having everyone touching me and all their voices so close to me ears. I feel a soft hand on my cheek and peek my eyes open to see Scar staring at me in concern.
“Stop grinding your jaw babe…” I release my jaw, not even realizing i had been doing it. “You okay love? You disappeared for a bit there.” I respond with a hum, my voice disappearing from within. “Let’s get your costume on and to set okay?”
I look around quickly and don’t see Erica, Scarlet must see the panic as she quickly says. “She got called away in an emergency. I’m going to be your guardian today.” I nod, feeling the panic bubble up in my chest, but give her a soft smile.
The two of us make our way to my trailer and she helps me quickly slip into the suit. I immediately want to rip it off as it’s skin tight and an uncomfortable material. It feels like it’s digging into my skin and pulling it away as if it’s velcro and my skin is the other side. I take a deep breath and come out to see Scar in costume waiting. “Ready?” I nod and we head to set where I realize it’s a busy day, all original 6 avengers, Lizzie, both Paul’s, Gwen and Cobie are all there. I internally groan as immediately, the girls are coming over to me and Scar talking a mile a minute. I stand next to Scarlett silently until Lizzie turns to me. “Hey kiddo. Ready to fight? We have to fly today.” My eyes widen for a moment before i force a smile and nod at the fake red head in front of me.
“What? Cat got your tongue?” This makes everyone around us laugh but it makes me feel awful. I have no voice, it comes and goes, when it’s gone, my parents ridicule me, I get hit. I look down as i feel my tears well up in my eyes and blink rapidly trying to will them away. I thank god silently when Joe calls us to places which means i get away from the now very suddenly concerned looking Scarlett, Lizzie and Cobie. I’m stuck with Renner as I get rigged up, the feeling of being sick suddenly appearing as more people touch me.
I feel the lump in my throat tighten and the feeling of the harness wrapped around me suddenly makes me feel like it’s constricting my breathing and everyone around me disappeared as my hands flung to the harness, in my panic my hands struggled with the buckle which just made me more infuriated and grunts started coming out as my tears blurred my vision.
I feel a set of hands on mine holding them down, i scream and rip mine away and start scratching at my throat trying to rip it open to get a breath. My eyes started blacking out and the last thing i see is Scarlett’s panicked face as she tries to grab at my hands before it all goes black.
Scarlett’s POV
I know something is off with y/n. Not off but just that she was different. I have had a feeling it was autism for a while now, today proved that to me.
She was silent the whole car ride to set, normally she’d be singing along the radio but she wouldn’t even let me turn it on today. As soon as we got to set she locked herself in her trailer without a word, the next time i saw her, she looked panicked and while she was getting her hair and makeup done she disappeared fully before i brought her back. She has days where she goes mute, she just calls them her bad days, they usually happen on days she has arguments with her parents but normally she can still communicate to me in different ways but today she was completely gone. It got worse as soon as she realized Erica was gone. Walking on to set, she tended up and i saw her tapping her thigh every once in a while. The comment that Lizzie made would normally make her laugh, her reaction today was off.
I watched her from the corner of my eye but had to look away for a second before i heard Renner.
“Y/N!! What are you doing?! You’re going to hurt yourself!” I whip my head around and my heart sinks as i see y/n struggling with her harness, her hands are shaking violently, tears streaming down her face, her eyes are glazed over. I bolt over and grab her hands gently.
“Y/n baby, stop. You’ve got to stop my love.” She rips her hands out of mine and starts clawing at her throat which is when i notice she’s not breathing properly. She’s barely able to get a small breath. Instincts kick in for me and i turn to the cast and crew crowding her. “Give her space. Now. I need someone to set up a dark room with minimal sound and her clothes she was wearing this morning as well as the blanket from my trailer. A cold cloth and her wig taken off.” I turn around as she starts to collapse, i grab her arm and quickly wrap an arm around her waist. “Now!”
It’s a bit of a blur after that honestly, the next thing i know, im alone with her in the green room after everything is unplugged and blankets are draped over the windows. Her wig is already off and someone hands me my blanket and her clothes before silently leaving. I help her unconscious body out of the suit and into her clothes before draping my weighted blanket over her body. I sit back and stare at her, not touching her at all but close enough if she needs me.
It felt like hours but looking at my watch, it shows it’s only been 20 minutes when she finally wakes up.
My heart is beating what feels like a million mile a minute with panic as i watch her blue eyes flutter open before she looks around the room for a moment. Her hand comes out of the blanket and she starts tapping her thigh again, her head nodding along to each tap. She squeezes her eyes shut and i can hear her voice mumbling. “I’m safe. I’m here. I’m y/n.” Over and over again, i quietly cough to get her attention and she quickly sits up and her head whips up to look at me with wide eyes, both hands start scratching at the other wrist. “Oh my god…”
“Baby, you are safe. It’s just me.”
“No… no… no no no no no no no no.” She started tugging her hair and rocking slightly. “They’re going to kill me… you aren’t supposed to know…”
I quickly scoot over and grab her hands before pulling her into my chest, she tenses for a moment before melting into my arms. “I can’t hide it anymore Scar…”
“I know baby… I know.” I mutter into her hair swaying us back and forth slightly.
“I’m autistic…”
“Oh baby i know…” She freezes and looks at me with wide eyes. I can ready the fear in her blue eyes. “You hide it really really well but I’m basically your mom my love. I had suspicions but didn’t want to push you into telling me. Today was too much.” She nods burying herself back into me. “I need you to know that I will always listen to you. That if you ever feel like that again, you can tell me and i’ll get you out of it. Baby seeing you pass out was terrifying. I need you to know that if you’re that overwhelmed, that you do not have to do all that.”
“But… my parents don’t want everyone knowing… they’re all gonna know now…” She mumbles into me, my heart cracks.
“Baby being autistic is not a bad thing. It makes you even more amazing. It’s not something to be ashamed of at all. You are allowed to be who you are. To stim when your emotions are too high. To have bad days. I am here to show you that.” I say looking her directly into her eyes. “I’m here to support you.”
Tears welled up in her eyes as she nodded quickly. She sat up and started tapping her thigh as she stared at me. “This is my favourite stim, it’s really subtle but it calms me down… i count the most important people in my life.” She then looks down at her hand as she taps each finger. “Scarlett.” Tap. “Lizzie.” Tap. “Renner.” Tap. “Gwen.” Tap. “Cobie.” Tap. “Rob.” Tap. “Rosie.” Tap. “It reminds me that you guys would love me, no matter how broken or weird i am because i know how much you care.” She looked up at me through her eyelashes. “Another one is tapping here.” She taps her chest right above her heart twice. “Right here.” She does the tap to each word. “This is where you sit in my body. I usually only do this one when I’m not wearing my necklace. Playing with that is the stim i can do out in public.” I pulled her into my arms again as I cried.
“Oh baby…”
“You’ve always been my safe space Scar…”
“And i will be your safe space for the rest of eternity.”
We sit in silence for a few minutes before she pulls away with a smile. “Thank you. For learning how to help me.”
“You are more than welcome my love. Let’s go home and have a calm day okay?” She nods before standing up, pulling my weighted blanket over herself. I stand and wrapping my arms around her waist, the two of us make our way out of the room to find Lizzie standing not too far away, crying into Gwyneths arms. Y/n instantly runs over to her and wraps her arms around the crying woman. Lizzie jumps before she turns and sees who it is and wraps the girl into her arms.
“I’m so sorry bug. I shouldn’t have made that comment. I know how bad your parents are.” Y/n shakes her head pulling back and squeezes Lizzie’s hands. “Liz that wasn’t what caused that.” She takes a glance back at me before taking a deep breath and looks back at Lizzie. “I’m autistic and I was overstimulated and everything was just too much. I won’t lie, the comment did hurt a little but i know you didn’t say it in a mean way. You didn’t hurt me, memories of my parents saying stuff hurt me. But not you.” Lizzie’s eyes widen and she glances at me before she nods breathing to calm herself down. “If you ever need to talk or are struggling you can talk to me bug.”
Y/n nods with a small smile. “I know Liz.”
“Hey. Me too.” We all turn our head to see Gwyneth with a pout on her face. “You scared the shit out of me kiddo. Never do that again. Understand?” She pulls y/n’s laughing form into her arms.
“I understand mother Paltrow.” She says making us all chuckle.
Y/n pulls away and biting her cheek looks at me. “I- i uh- I’m not ready to face everyone else yet…”
“They already left bug. It’s just us four left.” Lizzie said smoothing the crazy hair down on y/n’s head. “I couldn’t leave worried i hurt you and Gwyn couldn’t leave me alone but everyone else left to give you privacy. Scarlett went full mama bear mode and screamed at some people for trying to push her into anything. It was great.” Y/n chuckled, which brings a grin to my face.
“Of course you did. But i wouldn’t trade you for the world.”
“I love you too baby.” I say kissing her head softly.
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cosmal · 1 year
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hiii babe 🍰
spacey jane: james potter + i knew by lizzy mcalpine.
i knew that you loved me when i saw that my shoes was untied you bent down to tie it in the middle of the street
shoelaces
summary — james potter ties your shoes up in the middle of the street. you love him.
content — james potter x fem!reader, she/her, fluff
note — thank you this was such a cute request
The faster you walk, the more you get hit by the snow. The wind picks it up and blows it in your face. It’s so cold it feels like needles against your numb cheeks.
James has your hand inside his pocket because you’d forgotten your gloves and you wouldn’t take his.
“Y/N, sweetheart, take these.”
“No, because then you’ll be cold.”
“Right, then give me your hands.”
You’re both half trudging down the sludge against the pavement, James’s hand tightens too hard when he thinks you might slip.
“Why has Sirius invited us to his place on one of the coldest days of the year?” James grumbles. Half an hour ago he was giddy with excitement to see Sirius’s new flat.
“And why did you park three blocks away?” you ask.
James ignores you. You both know it’s because there wasn’t a single park, you just like to tease.
You’re almost there but every step you take feels heavy, like his flat just won’t get any closer. You go to cross the road right outside where you’re supposed to be and can feel your shoelaces hitting your ankle.
“Shit, my lace,” you mumble. You’re too close to slipping, you can’t imagine tripping over.
James stops right in the middle of the street when he looks down at your feet. “Stop,” he says softly. You stop with him when your arms snags against his.
He bends down onto one knee right into the snow and you gawp. “James!”
He swats your foot. “Stand still, angel.”
You do as he says. Mostly because you want him to hurry. “What are you bloody doing?”
“Babe, I don’t want to be a smartass right in the middle of the road,” he snorts, tightening your laces a little too hard, “but I’m tying your shoelaces up.”
“Yes, James,” you chide. “In the middle of the road.”
He makes two loops and if you weren’t too busy watching the corner to your left, you’d laugh at his bunny-ear method. With love, of course. He’s adorable. But right now, you’re a little peeved.
James looks up at you with soft eyes and a bright smile. You melt faster than the falling snow. You’re half annoyed because he’s being reckless, but also half adored because he’s being reckless on behalf of you. “I didn’t want you tripping.”
You want to put your hands in his hair. You also don’t want to encourage him. “Thank you, James, truly baby,” you hurry, words a little jammed, still genuine, “but please hurry up. I don’t want to get flattened.”
“I’d never let that happen,” he says, a little offended, a lot loving.
“I know.”
James grins. “Double knots?”
You roll your eyes, still annoyed. Shaking your foot you say, “C’mon, up.”
James gets up, letting you pull him into your side to cross the rest of street. Standing under a street lamp you stop still. James stops too, though hesitant.
“What’s up? Your other shoelace undone?” he frowns.
“No, it’s good.”
You needle your arms under his, pushing through the fleece of his parka jacket, angling your head up to look at him. James looks confused, still, he wraps his arms around your back with a ruffle of synthetic materials.
“I know it’s cold, baby,” he starts, squeezing you close, “but don’t you want to get inside? I’ll hug you all over Sirius’s new couch if y’want.”
His head blocks the the street lamp, curls haloed by warm yellow light and a falling of snow. You watch it decorate his hair and scatter in his too-long lashes, landing on the lenses of his glasses, and for the hundredth time since you met him, you think he’s the prettiest boy you’ve ever seen. It’s always just as startling as the first time.
“Did you just tie my laces in the middle of the street?”
James might think you’re scolding him. Though your features are soft and little too lovesick. You seem quite dizzied.
James grins boyishly. “Yeah…”
“We could’ve been hit by a lorry,” you laugh, half smothered by a chattering of your teeth.
“We could also freeze to death out here,” he says back.
“James…” you mumble, hiding your face in his chest. He smells like damp fleece and dwindling cologne that the wind keeps picking up.
“What?” he lets out a startled laugh, shielding your cold head with his big hand. Your hair is already half-damp. He’s starting to regret not letting you out at the front of Sirius’s building and finding a park himself.
“You love me,” you say suddenly, voice tainted with girlish laughter.
“Of course, I do,” he says. He smooths a kiss into your hair for good measure.
“Only boys who love you tie your laces up in the middle of the street.” You pull back your head from his chest and catch his gaze. He looks a mixture of confused and a little fond.
“How do you know that?” he feigns shock, “Who else has been tying up your shoes, huh?”
You shake your head, giggling, “No one.”
He dips you back, arms tight around your torso. Mouth hovering over yours, he says, “Who else?”
“No one,” you repeat, huffing a high pitched laugh. “Just you.”
He kisses you. Soft and quick and all things cold. You can’t help the smile that presses up against his lips. “Good,” he murmurs quickly.
You try to kiss him back. He grins all smug when he has you chasing his mouth. He stops when you huff, letting you too willingly kiss him.
“Should only be me tying up your shoes,” he says.
“Yeah,” you hum back.
And obviously he is. He doesn’t let you tie your own laces ever again when you’re around him.
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Text
A Bump In The Night: Part 3
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Find part 2 here Summary: Tommy confronts Pol, and comforts you, meanwhile James and Lizzie pay a visit expecting to settle a date.
Warnings: Smut, fingering, p in v, spanking
taglist: @calmingmelody96 @sunflower-tia
Tommy bursted through the door, grabbing everyone’s attention from the living room lounging areas. Finn knew that look, the “Get out or I will force you out look”. The only Shelby that refused to move was Pol, along with the elephant in the room. Smirking she didn’t say a word from her position in the armchair, gracefully sipping the burning cup of tea.
Removing his jacket, he hung the fabric cloth away onto the coat rack, reaching for a cigarette before addressing you.
“Go to your room. Now.” When you tried to respond Tommy held his hand out, silencing any further words you may want to add. Shrugging and crossing your arms tightly around your torso, with hurried footsteps you scurried into your room, slamming the door shut, the walls shaking from the anger behind your strength.
Rolling his eyes, Tommy knew he’d deal with you later, and began to approach his aunt with vindication, and power with every step against the hardwood floor.
“I thought we came to an agreement Pol.” Taking a seat, he crossed one leg over the other, pouring himself a glass of whiskey from the end table.
“I don’t recall, what you’re speaking of my dear, ever infuriating nephew. Go ahead kill Mr. Gold, it’s what you do best after all isn’t it? I pity you Thomas. I knew your mind was fucked, hell all of ours are, but  your sister? I knew you were close but that’d be a line I thought you’d have the common sense not to cross.” Scoffing, he let the burning sensation liqour wash down his throat, twiddling the glass with his hand, thinking wisely before responding.
“Hm.”  Eyebrows creasing together, his lips curled into a soft smile, a smile that spoke with a threat.
“Pol. I’ve always put this family first, the business first have I not?” She nodded subtly, still holding her stance on the opinion of profound disapproval for the relationship, trying to ignore every day the knots curdling in her gut just at the thought of you two together.
“She’s young, and I refuse to be her heartbreak, as should you. She was crying today y’know? The thought of you marrying her off, to Lizzie’s cousin, sending her away from me. She’s comfortable here, and she will lose all sense of trust if you push her out of this house. I won’t allow it. So allow this to sit next to you as a reminder. I know where your son is, I know he’s got some whore knocked up right now. It would be a shame if something were to, I don’t know, happen to them, all at the cost of your disapproval of Y/N and I. So listen, and listen closely.” Pol sat there, her heart sinking like a ship down into the depths of her stomach while a lump formed in her throat from disbelief. Her worried eyes fixated on Tommy. 
“You will not marry her off. She will stay here, in the place that has been her home. You will keep denying of any knowledge that we are anything more than brother and sister. Forget the cut, I have more information than what I need, and you of all people should know, when I have a plan, chaos ensues, wars break loose and I can assure you-“
He stood up from his seat, staring down at your anxious aunt, lips pressed in a firm, cold hard line not stuttering a single word with his menacing tone.
“You do not want to go to war with me. Call off the wedding, or you leave my hands tied with no choice. Your call.” Pol watched as he walked off to the stairs, presumably to your room.
~
Opening the door, he found you face down into the plush pillow, his shirt tucked between your delicate soft hands. He knew this act well, and known it to be the silent treatment that you’d only give him when you’re terribly upset.
“Darling. I don’t think you have anything to worry about. I’ve got it under control and taken care of. You know I’ll always look after you.” There were those soft, wide teary eyes when you tilted your head up. Tommy pursed his lips in pity, always hating see his baby girl saddened, the delicate thing you were. His hand pressed against your teary cheek, caressing your soft skin while he placed a kiss to your temple.
“C’mere.” He pulled you onto his lap, cradling, and holding your shaking body closely to his heart as he felt your nose nuzzle into the crook of his warm neck.
You truly were terrified Pol would send you away, marrying you off to anyone who held the highest bid, like you were just some pawn in a game you weren’t wise enough yet to play.
After a moment of silence and Tommy rubbing your back attempting to soothe you, when he felt your breathing pattern relax and no longer heard sniffles, he presumed it time to discuss what happened at school.
“So, who’s this new friend of yours eh? With me taking care of Pol, I don’t see a need for you to be cordial with him anymore.” Furrowing your eyebrows, struck by his jealousy, you pushed yourself off of his lap, standing directly in front of him with your arms crossed, a discerning scowl painting your face.
“I don’t think that’s very fair, considering you know how I feel about Lizzie, yet you disregard me every time. She likes you, just how James likes me. Maybe a little jealousy, would do you good to realize your not the only man that wishes to be between my legs.” 
“Ah but there’s the difference love. I am the only man that has been between your legs, and if I recall correctly…” Trailing off, his digits ran between your heated thighs, feeling the warmth of your pussy still yearning for another fuck from him. He knew he was quite right when you released a lustful, surprised sigh, eyes nearly fluttering shut.
“You wouldn’t want it any other way.” Tommy focused his calm ocean on yours, noticing you weren’t telling him to stop as he massaged your mound. 
Pulling your panties aside, you hadn’t stopped him from inserting one of his digits deep into your already soaked core, receiving a hum of approval from your brother.
“That’s what I thought, my desperate girl.” Your chest was falling and rising , eyebrows furrowing together trying to hold back from the building pleasure, trying to make that tiny heartbeat in your pussy diminish not wanting to give him any gratification.
His plush lips connected to your neck, marking his territory as he kissed your honey suckle, smooth skin while his fingers continue to work you open.
Giving into him, you fell back onto the mattress, Tommy towering over you, clutching your breast through the tight shirt, having the ability to see your nipples already hardening, wanting to burst from the thin fabric.
His fingers sped up, your nectar merely swimming down your slippery slope as you grinded down against him in an attempt for more friction.
“More- p-please Tommy…” Pulling his fingers out, you whined from the sudden emptiness, ready to throw a fit once more until he pulled you over his lap.
“You know the rules yet you disobeyed them.” Frowning, he pushed you skirt up, displaying yourself over his thick thighs, feeling the cold leather of the buckle of his belt against your side, causing goosebumps to form on your skin.
Perching your ass up, you were biting your lip nervously, embracing for impact.
Shifting slightly, you winced when in reality Tommy was just rolling up his sleeves.
Caressing the delicate skin of your bum, he swiped his hand back before sending it full throttle clashing onto your smooth, unharmed skin.
“Ow!” You screeched out, but the more you squirm, the sharper Tommy hit, more forceful.
Slap after slap he watched your ass bounce, your skin darking to a bruised shade.
“Are you going to talk to boys anymore?”
“No! No! I promise Tommy!” Another smack, your ass cheeks stinging and writhing in pain. Your hands gripped at the sheets while you were on the brink of tears, cheeks heating from the agony.
“Did you learn your lesson?” He took amusement from seeing your desperation for the punishment to be over. 
“Yes! Yes! I swear!” Pushing you off onto your stomach, he removed his pants, sliding those soaked panties to the side, revealing your glistening cherry, dripping like water and eager to be filled.
In a swift motion he was still careful, knowing it’d only been your second time, thrusting slowly inside of your tight walls.
Furrowing your eyebrows, you released a lustful moan from feeling so full. The pain was still present as you adjusted to the large shape of his cock, but the mint scent of his breath by your ear, and the warmth of his skin against your back comforted you, subduing the uncomfortable feeling.
“Taking me cock so well love, so fucking tight you are.” Nibbling on your ear, he pumped slowly in and out of your cavern, allowing your sex to suffocate his shaft. Moaning you moved your bum back, demanding more friction, more movement.
“Eager now, are we?” 
“Fuck me Tommy please, I need you.” The sound of your desperate, delicate voice was enough for him. Quickening his pace, he drilled into your dripping cunt with a such force your ass bounced up and down against his skin, grinding and pushing him further in until he was balls deep inside of your dripping cunt.
His lips connected to the crook of your neck as you moaned sweet despairs into the pillow, an engimatic fire lighting between your thighs while he fucked into you relentlessly.
His hands roamed down your sides, sucking and leaving his marks on your shoulder blades.
All of him was yours, and all of you was his. Skin to skin, each ping of pleasure forming clouds in your heads, thighs becoming weak as he gripped your sides, his cock swiftly pounding up into your cervix. 
“Tommy I-I’m going to-“
“Since you took your punishment so well, I suppose you can cum. Release love.” Without needing any further instruction, you rode his cock with such ferocity and precision, until your walls clenched tight around his thick member, your silver syrup oozing out as your toes curled, your body trembling around your brother. 
At that moment there was a knock on the door startling you both, it was Pol standing in the door way huffing and puffing when her eyes fell on your nude bodies intwined in bed.
“Oh for godsake! I don’t mean to interrupt your rendezvous but James and Lizzie are downstairs. Get yourselves together, they’re requesting to speak to you both.” Slamming the door behind her, Tommy rolled his eyes, holding you close to his heart when he sensed your discomfort of going downstairs. You hated to upset others, and held a strong dislike of confrontation. You knew it’d look odd if you were to stay upstairs, and Tommy would always protect you and keep you away from the line of fire.
Peppering sweet kisses to your cheek, and tickling your sides. He reassured you once again that he had things under control, not to fret.
Coming down the stairs, Lizzie scoffed at the sight of your messy bed head, to which you replied with a hateful sneer. To avoid tensions, Tommy settled his hand on your arm protectively, giving a stare of dominance, demanding obedience or else.
Walking in with a cup of tea, and Pol by his side, James walked in with a kind hearted smile that soon turned upside down once he realized the change of heart by the subtle apologetic look on your face.
“To what do we owe the displeasure? Surely you’ve heard I’ve already found her a more suitable candidate, you understand, eh?” Tommy held his strong position, his determined blue eyes speaking with power and position, ensuring that they were comprehending there was no further room for discussion. 
Lizzie stood there baffled, wanting to prod at who it was. She’s had her suspicions for quite some time. Pol wanted to slap that stupid grin off her nephew’s face, knowing the game he was playing at. James stepped further in the room, disregarding Tommy, and settling in the love seat, folding one leg over another. If Lizzie wasn’t going to ask, he was.
“What is your problem with me Mr. Shelby? I’ve posed no threat to Y/N, I’ve been a kind friend to her. Tell me, did you really find another man, who are you saving her for someone else?” The skepticism in his voice, and the confidence in questioning him made Tommy smirk.
“I don’t like you. I don’t trust you, nor are you good enough for her. As her brother it’s my job to ensure her safety, and approve of who’s to marry her. Why would I trust her with someone who’s bought whores off the street, assaulting them when you believe no one has an eye on you, eh?” 
“Brother or lover?” The room went silent, everyone astounded by the accusation, focusing their eyes on Tommy, waiting for an answer.
Chuckling, he took a seat across from the boy while pouring a glass of whiskey from the sidetable.
The tensions were high, a lump held in your throat from being nervous, all of Birmingham knew what Tommy was capable of. James tried to act as if he wasn’t frightened and intimidated of the middle Shelby, merely locking his jaw to hide the slim quivering of his bottom lip while Pol and Lizzie held their standing positions.
“Quite offending accusations, no? For someone who knows little to nothing about us Shelby’s. I find you intriguing James, you’ve lost the game but still willing to play, why is that?” Tommy spoke with authority and grit, unphased by the boy sitting in front of him. James knowing how introverted, and shy you were took the opportunity, glancing toward you grinning as if he had an upper hand, before he had the chance to take a jab at you, Tommy leaned forward, pointing his finger at James.
“My eyes are over here. She’s not involved in this little conversation. She’s a big girl, can make her own choices and she chose for me to tell you to fuck right off, or I will not hesitate to call my men, and ensure you never return. Don’t believe me? Then tell me how I know so much about you when you’ve only just met my sister today.” Before Lizzie could argue for her nephew, Tommy raised his hand silencing her, reminding her the men were talking and her interjection wasn’t needed.
James was rendered speechless, Pol fuming nearly breaking her glass in her hand when the boy got up without a word, bidding you goodbye and leaving, forcing Lizzie to come with him.
As soon as the door shut you rushed over to Tommy crying joyfully and squeezing his sides.
Pol thought back to Michael, holding her tongue at the risk of his life in Tommy’s hands. She hadn’t even known where Michael was. Shooting daggers at you both, she exited the room calling for Arthur for a family meeting.
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