ok hear me out; Keigo personally funds a gravestone for Jin after the war that he visits and maintains it as often as his schedule permits
he goes through periods of guilt where he feels like he doesn't deserve to face him and mourn like that so he won't visit for a while, but he always comes back with a pack of cigarettes and fresh flowers after not too long
(he also helps Ochako fund a gravestone for Himiko and they put it right next to Jin's)
I've been thinking again about the meaning of Shouto's and Touya's birthdays. What if Shouto's birthday is 111 because it's like the winning combo on a slot machine (getting three ones is a particularly good sign in light of Endeavor's aim to raise a son to be No 1) and Touya's birthday is 118 because he's only "almost perfect"?
And then I did some further research, and sure enough, the in the 18 in Touya's birthday the kanji for 1: 一 (ichi) and 8: 八 (hachi) can be found in the following Japanese gambling phrase:
一か八か = ichi ka bachi ka, “one or nothing”, or literally “one or punishment” - i.e.: a high risk gamble or something like "go for broke".
As in the phrase:
一いちか八ばちかやってみよう。
Ichikabachika yatte miyō.
I’ll take my chances.
So now I'm 99% convinced that Shouto's and Touya's birthdays are a refence to Endeavor gambling with the kids as if they were prizes in a pachinko slot machines / was playing child gacha?
With the exception of Rain, all characters belong to Kōhei Horikoshi
Rain is my OC ➡️ click her for Rain's Profil ⬅️
Please note that English is not my first language. So forgive me for mistakes
I would have liked to have written it in more detail, but I was running out of time😭 I really wanted to write something for New Year's Eve, but I didn't have a story in my head...
Yesterday my boyfriend got sick and that gave me the idea to write this fanfiction.
I hope you will enjoy it, despite the lack of time I had😊
Happy New Year?
The night was cool, and a fine drizzle had begun to cover the streets of Musutafu in a glittering veil of drops. Dabi pulled the hood of his black coat further over his face and let the smoke from his cigarette rise into the cool night air. The familiar smell of rain and asphalt mixed with the sharp aroma of the embers that glowed at the end of the cigarette. He was on his way to Rain, his Rain - a thought that brought a rare smile to his face.
He still couldn't quite explain why he had allowed himself to be captured by her of all people. Maybe it was her strength, that unwavering willpower that had broken through even his cold, burning wall. Maybe it was the way she looked at him - with a mixture of pride and gentleness - that always confused him.
He reached into his pocket and felt the cool metal of the key she had given him weeks ago. But Dabi wouldn't be himself if he walked through the door like everyone else. Instead, he looked up at the windows of the apartment, which was on the third floor. A faint, warm light flickered behind the curtains in the living room. A sign that she was home.
With a quiet sigh, he shook his head, took a step back and looked for the rain pipe on the wall of the house. "You know, Touya, one day you'll break your neck with this shit," he muttered quietly to himself and started to climb up the wall.
Once upstairs, he carefully opened open the living room window, which Rain unfortunately never closed properly. "You're making it too easy for me, angel," he whispered as he pushed himself inside and landed with an elegant jump on the soft carpet.
Rain was lying on the sofa, wrapped in a thick blanket that almost swallowed her whole. Her black hair fell in soft strands over the pillow and her face was slightly flushed. The television was flickering; some film was playing that she was probably no longer consciously following.
Dabi pulled off his hood and stretched before approaching with silent steps. "You know, if someone else tried to break in here, you'd have a big problem," he muttered dryly as he leaned on the arm of the sofa and looked down at her.
Rain slowly opened her eyes, her deep red irises shimmering in the dim light. "You're not a burglar either," she murmured hoarsely, pulling the blanket tighter around herself.
"No, but I a damn good climber." Dabi plopped down on the sofa next to her and glanced at her. "You look like shit, angel."
"Thank you for the compliment." Her voice was weak, but there was a hint of sarcasm in it.
"You're welcome." Dabi grinned crookedly and leaned forward to put a hand on her forehead. "You're hotter than me, and that's saying something."
Rain snorted quietly, only to burst into a coughing fit immediately afterwards. Dabi grimaced, pulled the blanket away from her and wrapped his arm around her instead. "Come here. This blanket is no use anyway."
"You're not a hot water bottle, Touya," she murmured in protest, but let herself be pulled into his arms without much resistance.
"I'm not? Say that again if you're asleep within five minutes." His voice was soft, almost teasing, as he pulled her closer, the heat of his skin pressing against her feverish cold.
Rain sighed and leaned against him, her cheek pressed against his chest. "Why are you even here? Don't you have something better to do?"
"Better than you? Hardly." He looked down at her and his grin softened. "Besides, you missed me, admit it."
"I never miss you," she murmured, her eyelids heavy.
"Liar." Dabi ran his fingers gently through her hair. "Rest, angel. I'm here."
"I'm not an angel," Rain murmured quietly, her voice thick with her cold. She pushed herself away from him a little, but Dabi didn't let her get far, his arms remained tightly wrapped around her.
"Oh, no?" His eyes sparkled in the dim light of the television as he looked at her. "You know exactly why I call you that." His hands slid down her back and traced the base of her wings.
"Because you're a damn stubborn person," she replied weakly, coughing quietly into her hand. She sounded tired, but at the same time there was a hint of defiance in her voice.
"Stubborn? I? Says the one who wants to throw me out of here even though she's obviously half dead on the sofa?" He raised an eyebrow and pulled her closer to him again, his body heat radiating against her cool skin.
"I'm not kicking you out," she muttered, her eyes half closed. "I'm just saying that you should spend your New Year's start with the others. You love New Year's Eve, Touya. The stupid people who blow their hands off, or someone who accidentally sets their house on fire... That's exactly your thing."
Dabi laughed softly, a deep, raspy sound that made his chest vibrate. "You know me too well. But you know what? None of these idiots are half as interesting as you."
"Stop it." Rain closed her eyes and unconsciously reached for the blanket, even though Dabi's warmth was much more comfortable than the thick material. "I'm just diseased and not particularly exciting."
"You're sick, yes, but you're also Rain. That's enough for me." He ran his hand through her hair and brushed the damp strands from her face.
"You're really impossible." She swallowed, feeling her throat burn. Part of her just wanted to sleep and forget all this. But another part, the more vulnerable one, couldn't shake the bitter taste of disappointment.
"You should be outside, watching the fireworks, having fun..." She opened her eyes again, looking at him. Her deep red eyes sparkled faintly in the light of the screen, and there was a hint of wistfulness in her voice. "It's our first New Year's Eve as a couple, Touya. I was looking forward to it so much."
Dabi paused in his movement. He looked at her, and for a moment the usually sarcastic expression on his face disappeared. His gaze became softer, almost thoughtful.
"Rain..." His voice was deeper, almost quiet. "I'm here, okay? Screw the fireworks. I don't need a big spectacle to start the new year with you."
"But I... I wanted to stand outside with you, look at the colors in the sky, and maybe..." Her voice broke and she turned her head away, ashamed of the tears that suddenly welled up in her eyes.
"Maybe what?" He gently grabbed her chin and turned her face back to him, forcing her to look at him.
"Maybe... just be happy," she whispered, looking at him, her eyelashes damp. "It sounds stupid, I know. But I wanted it to be perfect."
"You're really stupid, you know that?" Dabi pulled her closer, his lips gently touching her forehead. "There's no such thing as perfect, but I'm here, and that's more than anyone would expect from me."
Rain closed her eyes and sighed quietly. "I know. It's just... hard. It's so hard to shake the feeling that I'm ruining everything for you."
"You didn't ruin anything." Dabi's voice grew more serious. "If anything, you're the reason I like New Year's Eve more than usual this year. You know, I could have just spent it enjoying an explosion somewhere or causing a little chaos. Instead, I'm sitting here warming you up. Sounds like a pretty good deal to me."
"You really are impossible," she repeated quietly, but a tiny, exhausted smile crept onto her lips.
"And you're pretty stubborn," he countered with a smug grin. "So this is a perfect fit."
Rain laughed softly, a scratchy, barely audible sound, but it was there. She leaned against him again and closed her eyes. "Just stay here. Just for today."
"Did I ever say I was leaving?" He pulled the blanket over them both and let them move even closer to him. "You're really hard to deal with when you're sick, Rain. But I'm staying. Just so you know."
"Touya?"
"Hm?"
"Thanks."
"Don't talk so much, you'll only make yourself more exhausted. Just sleep, angel. Tomorrow is a new day."
The League of Villains planning their attack strategy is just Toga and Twice drawing a map of the area in crayon and Tomura and Spinner using legos they made to look like the league members to show them their positions— and they are dead serious about it the whole time while they all argue about the plans and keep moving the little lego figures around aggressively.
omg can i please request this for mingyu? u can do whenever u have time <333
Mg's personality – headcanons
WARNINGS: mdni under the cut, descriptive and mention of sexual subjects
mingyu is a life romanticist for me. he knows his life can be a little tough and exhausting, so romanticizing it sometimes helps him through it.
expect to have a lot of hangouts!!!! at home with beverages, on a barbecue restaurant, going out late at night to drink, arcade dates... everything.
his love language is quality time.
he will find a free time to travel, mingyu probably loves to go on trips. he doesn't care if it's somewhere far away or a new nearby city, he just likes to get to know new places, local food, life and people. he's really in love with life.
he likes keeping in touch with nature. the image that came to my head suddenly was him jumping from a big rock to the ocean... he likes the beach and salt water baths. also go hiking, riding bike around places, and stargaze.
he will get you along for restaurant tours and drink tasting.
mingyu is that one friend who does not necessarily give you advice, he's rather giving you comfort and healing through laugh and going out with him to enjoy things again.
Spicy Thoughts
mingyu gives me specially night person vibes. he will fuck you anytime but normally he would prefer at night.
since he likes to go out and travel a lot, expect a lot of sex in the car or in the woods... on a silent street... even some action on the plane bathroom... who knows....
mingyu is the action taker but he's not too kinky, he likes the average, sometimes romantic slow sex, sometimes raw intense sex, he's versatile.
some subtle fingering on semi-public or even public tbh... under the table or on your seat.
good with hands and a good tongue kisser.
he's guilty, but he probably enjoys raw sex way too much. he hates condoms but has to use it anyway... HE'S NOT IRRESPONSIBLE!!! but if he gets the chance to have someone trustful that agrees with raw sex, then he's not going back.
likes to fuck you with your wrists pinned up your head. mingyu likes the sight of your boobs bouncing, your back arched and face fully twisted in pleasure, neck exposed with the vein popping as you moan... he's favorite sight 100%.
he's a strong man, so there will be a lot of manhandling, changing your positions, throwing you around the mattress like you weigh nothing.
Hey it's me again! 6 + bucktommy for the kiss writing game 🥺✨
Thank you 🫶🏻
Thanks to YOU for the prompt!
6. …on a falling tear
“I swear, it’s happy tears, I just don’t know how to make them stop,” Buck says, laughing as new tears stream down his cheeks.
The sight causes such a strong rush of affection in the depths of Tommy’s chest that he cups his face and kisses the tears away. The gesture only makes Buck cry harder.
“It’s all your fault, you know?” he complains, his smile betraying his voice. “You walk in here and propose to me out of nowhere, and now we’re engaged. Just like that!”
Considering they’ve been together for two years, and are as happy as they’ve ever been, Tommy doesn’t think the proposal came out of the blue. But Buck’s overdramatic reaction is so adorable that he decides to go with the flow.
“Is there any way I can make it better?” he asks, his voice low and smooth, and he bites back a grin at how it makes Buck shiver.
“I could think of a thing or two,” he whispers back, and for a while, he does stop crying when he gives in to the sensation of Tommy’s ‘apology’. The moment he looks at the engagement ring, though, it starts all over again.
“What is that doing in my apartment?” Eric asked as he turned around after hearing the door unlock and open then close again. But as soon as he turned around he saw his girl standing there holding a puppy in her arms.
“Its our apartment.” Y/n pointed out as she rocked the puppy in her arms, ignoring his glare at the fluffy puppy in her arms.
“Y/n” Eric narrowed his eyes at her.
“I found him alone and abandon. He was starving and crying. I couldn't leave him.” Y/n sighed and gave him her best puppy dog eyes.
Eric watched her and a thought came to mind that made him smirk. So he walked over to and decided to poke some fun at his girl. “Your Amity is showing.”
“Shut up.” Y/n grumbled rolling her eyes at him before turning her attention back on the puppy.
Eric watched her interact with the baby dog before he came to the conclusion he knew was coming. “You're gonna keep him no matter what I say. Aren’t you?”
Eric sighed, narrowing his eyes playfully. He knew he couldn’t say no to what she wanted. “Fine.”
With Eric agreeing Y/n squeezed kissing him all over his cheeks.
“Thank you. I’ll thank you properly later.” Y/n winked at him in a very suggestive way. Which earned a growl from him and Y/n smirked in return.
Warnings: pure smut, public sex, asphyxiation, sex used for information, rough sex, sexualised reader, mean boss, stranger/anonymous sex, creampie (wrap it up folks), size difference
Notes: slight canon deviation (yeah sure Kraven doesn't wear his wet button up during the Mr Tackling scene but he does now)
Totally oblivious to the man shouting at you to hold the elevator, you drown out your sorrows with your cheap, slightly on the turn, instant coffee, marinating in the same rusty travel cup you have used for years.
Even though you didn't exactly like working for Mr Tackling, you were in too deep now, you couldn't leave even if you wanted to. Honestly, you probably more know about his business than he does. Mr Tackling doesn't even see you as a human being most days, you're sure he only hired you to be his receptionist and personal assistant as a front, only wanting the eye candy, and barely thinks you do any work.
You're late coming in today. Originally on time, but sent home by Tackling as your outfit wasn't "short enough". He makes your skin crawl. But you have to obey his demands, trying not to think about what happened to the last man who did.
You're snapped back into reality by the sound of something loud hitting the door button on the elevator. Eyes widening as you immediately clock the source of the noise being a small metal knife. The doors remain open as the man slides through the gap before retrieving his knife.
Straight away, you feel unsafe being alone in the lift with him. You take in his appearance through the awkward silence, as the lift whirs upwards. Memorising him to warn someone when you are out of the enclosed space.
Young, you want to say 30s, brown hair, damp and slicked back, as if he's just been swimming. Beard, trimmed to a suitable length, but still with a wild quality to it. You can't get a good look at his eyes, his gaze furrowed, staring at the ground.
You almost double take when you glance at his bare feet. What happened to his shoes?
Black trousers and white shirt, dripping wet. Unbuttoned at the collar teasing the muscles he is hiding underneath. Rolled up at the arms, his veins and muscles nearly pop out as he clenches his fists. Angry? Or preparing for something?
You can't deny he is a handsome man, even though you are scared, you can't help but be attracted to his ruggedness. Your breath hitches in your throat, unable to help clearing it with a cough.
As you do so, the man snaps out of his trance to look at you. His brown eyes tracing you up and down. You avoid his gaze and nervously pull down your short skirt, suddenly becoming self conscious at him oggling you.
Suddenly the man lunges forward, his body towering over yours, you back into the wall as he reaches behind you to press a button on the lift panel. The lift comes to an abrupt halt, the alarm starting to ring in your ears.
The noise of your own heart beating drowns out the alarm as you stare at the man in front of you, neither of you moving even after pressing the button. His hand next to your head, looming over you as his beard statts to tickle your face. You wait for him to make the first move.
"You know Mr Tackling?"
His voice rumbles through his chest, the deep bassy notes going straight to your core. You can't help but wonder what your name would sound like with his Russian accent.
"I uh...yeah, I'm his PA."
SHIT why did you tell him that? You don't know who this man is, you fear you may have put a mark over your head now. You guess he would find out anyway, your job being common knowledge around the office.
The man hums in thought.
"Would you tell me where he is?"
You hesitate, less likely to give up that information.
"I, I'm not sur-"
He moves his arm by the side of your head to your chin, cupping it to moving your face upwards, making you look at him. On closer inspection, you start to notice blood specks on his white shirt. You doubt it is his own.
"I won't ask again", he continues.
"What are you going to do to him?", you ask, but really, you already know the answer.
"You really have sympathy towards him? The man who sends you home to change as you don't look hot enough for him?"
"How did-"
"Never letting him touch you...", his hand travels down your body, catching on your blouse, "but yet let a complete stranger do so?"
You look away guilty, blushing at his words. You do like the attention he's showing you, part of the anonymity scares as well as excites you.
His hand snaps back onto your head as he pushes your cheek, making you look at him once again. Your coffee cup falls out of your hand in shock, spilling onto the laminate floor.
"Look at me when I'm talking to you."
His words sting, but end up going straight to your core. You should be afraid, but your body is saying otherwise, and he knows it.
"Will you show me where he is? ...or am I going to have to fuck the information out of you?"
The damp of his shirt starts to seep into yours at the close proximity. You can't seem to find the words, taken aback by his boldness. You start to move your leg up his, saying more than what you could have done with words. Your bare legs catching on the creases of his trousers.
The man looks at your lips, hungrily, as you trail up his leg. Seems you're both just as into this. He nods subtly, picking up on your consent, before his lips crash into yours. The force pushes you further back into the wall, both his arms leaning against the glass for stability as his tongue explores your mouth. You glance at his arms, his hands steaming up the mirror, as you moan softly into the kiss. You can't help but wonder what those hands look like wrapped around other parts of your body. You start to grind your hips on his crotch at the thought, slowly starting to feel his erection through his trousers.
He pulls away from the kiss briefly to yank your shirt open, the sound of buttons popping off around the elevator. His hands immediately palming at your bra, dipping inside to caress your breasts. You melt into his grip as your hand dips underneath your underwear.
The man stops to unzip his trousers, his cock bouncing free in the very little space between you. He wastes no time as he pulls your panties to one side to slide his cock inside you. You're grateful you decided to touch yourself before he did this, making entry a little easier, not quite realising exactly how big he is. He struggles to fit himself inside you.
"Fuck, so tight", he whispers absentmindedly next to your ear.
He grips hold of one of your legs, lifting it, spreading you further apart to make room for more of his cock. Slowly starting to thrust into you, you squirm underneath him, desperate for more. The wall behind you digs into your back with each push. You wrap your leg around his waist, making him fully insert himself into you.
Your eyes roll into the back of your head feeling him stretch you completely. Looking at him, you notice he's also totally blissed out, with some small shock and impressed looks glinting in his eyes. He takes a second before continuing to thrust inside you. Part of you wonders if he's ever managed to fully seat inside anyone else before, with his reaction.
The force of his pace winds you, unable to make any noise. You somehow can hear him pant and moan over the continuing alarm. Your body goes limp as you let this complete stranger fuck you however he seem fit, your hands digging into his back through his shirt, clawing into him for stability, craving for him to be even closer to you.
His lips start to trail down your jaw, before reaching your neck, feeling him leaving bites and bruises, you wonder what your boss would think seeing them. You swear he even growls as he does so, like a wild animal. His hand instinctively pushes some of your hair behind your ear, giving him more access. But his fingers linger there, teasing the pulse point on your jugular. Lifting his head, he sees your eyes pleading with him, letting him use you however he wanted to.
His hand effortlessly engulfs your entire neck, as he gently presses the sides. You can feel him still spearing up inside of you as the oxygen escapes your throat. His other hand ghosting at your entrance, before his fingers start to rub at your clit. He watches you closely, enjoying this power over you, and the way your walls swallow his cock perfectly.
He can feel himself close to release too, he tries to pull himself from you, but your steel grip on his back lets him know to continue. Before you know it, his pace starts to stutter, pushing one final time up into your cervix. Warmth rushes inside your cunt, his seed filling you up is nearly enough to make you orgasm again. You hum gently at the feeling. His cum starts to seep out of you, onto his trousers, but neither of you care right now.
The overstimulation is enough to make you cum. The combination of him fucking into you, playing with your bundle of nerves and seeing the veins in his hands flex and control your breathing, makes you unravel. Your toes curl inside your heels as your walls clench around him, feeling every vein of his cock as your orgasm washes over your body.
There's a pause as you both come down from your high. He removes himself from you, tucking his cock back into his trousers, pressing the alarm button again, the elevator whirring back into action.
You catch your breath as you pull your skirt down, going to do up your blouse but cursing when you remember it no longer has buttons. The man can't help but smirk seeing you have no choice but to have your bra on display. You can still feel his seed drip out of you, through your underwear and onto the floor. The elevator gives you no time to regain your thoughts as you reach the top of the building.
As soon as the door opens, you're greeted to a handful of people waiting for the elevator. Various murmurs of "about time" and "what's the hold up?" pause when they see the doors unveil the two of you. The smell of coffee and sex wafts through the air as you quickly squeeze past them, avoiding the embarrassment. The man in the lift following you, quick on your heels.
All the truths come out one cold day in Birmingham, but that doesn't mean things will get better between you and Thomas; in fact, for you it's a sign that you should stay away from him for good... for the sake of your baby.
𝗪𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴: I probably wrote something out of ignorance and lack of research on a sensitive subject, so I apologise in advance if my recklessness offends anyone.
Thomas Shelby x Reader
Another twinge in your stomach makes you groan in pain, forcing you to close your eyes and take a deep breath. You pray for the pain to go away, but it's still there, so you have no choice but to keep walking, ignoring the stares of the people you pass.
You needed to get home as soon as possible... or what used to be your home, because after what had happened you didn't know what to do or where to go or who to trust, you had nothing and no one. The only important person in your life was just like your father: a disappointment. Someone who would hurt you for the most insignificant thing in the world.
Thomas Shelby was the person you loved the most, and now you wished you had never met him.
You open the door with trembling hands and close it tightly behind you as you enter the house that has given you so much security over the years, all the promises he made to you, that he would protect you, that he would never hurt you like your father, were they all lies, did he really love you or was he just pretending?.
Tears run down your wet cheeks and you start to climb the stairs, but with each step you take, the pain multiplies. You cling to the wood as an excruciating pain shoots through your stomach, you scream and fall to your knees. A few seconds later, the pain is gone and the whole house is silent. Your tears keep falling, you don't know if they are tears of pain or tears of sadness.
Just when you think it's all over, you feel a liquid fall between your thighs, and, frightened, you pull up the skirt of your dress to discover that it's the last thing you wanted to see: blood.
“No, no, no.” You look at where the blood is coming from and shake your head. “No, no, my baby!” Your hands creep up to wipe your thighs, smearing blood all over them. “Please, no! Not my baby…”
The blood continues to trickle down between your thighs, and you lean against the wood beside you, crying inconsolably. There was nothing you could do, it was too late to call for help, your baby was dead, the only hope of happiness in your life gone in the blink of an eye.
Polly enters the house to find the long-haired woman, to talk to her and find out what is going on, but as she looks towards the stairs she sees the sad sight of a woman crying. Concerned, she goes up the stairs, and when she reaches your side, she sees the dress and your hands covered in blood. She puts her hand to her mouth, unable to believe her eyes.
“We were supposed to be a family, we were supposed to buy a house to call home... but it was all lies, because here I am, alone, in a house that isn't my home, with my dead baby.” You say, your voice weak from crying.
Polly bends down and hugs you, stroking your back in circles, and you let out all the tears you've been holding back for years. Tears you didn't shed when you watched your mother die before your eyes, tears you didn't shed when your father beat you without remorse.
You were tired of this life, every time you tried to move on, something or someone would hit you so hard that you would fall to the ground, you used to have the strength to keep going, but not this time, this time you wouldn't fight.
Polly turns away from you as she wipes away her tears and says, “Come on, sweetheart. You need a bath... let me look after you.”
You shake your head. “Let me... let me say goodbye to my baby before I clean up the blood.”
The dark brown-eyed woman sees the blood between your thighs and a shiver runs down her spine. “Fine... I'll run your bath.”
Pol disappears from your side, down the stairs to the bathroom. You look down at your thighs, where the blood dries with each passing second, your vision blurs and more salty tears fall. You remember when your mother used to say that the women in her family, your family, were cursed, that they were destined to be unhappy, you used to reply that it was just lies, but now you really believed that you were cursed, and you could only feel hatred for yourself, just as your mother felt for herself.
Now you understand why she took her own life that cold afternoon.
You wipe away your tears and caress your belly one last time, where your baby used to be. Slowly you stand up and wipe away your tears, you walk to the bathroom where Polly touches the water to see if it is the right temperature, when she sees you she gives you a small sympathetic smile and approaches you.
“Let me help you with that dress, darling.” She takes the dress from you and sets it aside. “It's going to be hard to get it off…” Polly stops as she realises what she is about to say.
You look at her sadly. “The blood.” You finish her sentence, take off the rest of your clothes and climb into the bath. “Don't bother, throw the dress in the bin.” You say and hug yourself, that light blue dress was a birthday present from Thomas, it used to be important to you, now it was just a reminder that you lost your baby.
Polly looks at the expensive dress in her hands, but says nothing. She puts it on a chair and turns to you to pick up the soap and start cleaning your back.
“Why are you being so nice to me?.”
Your question catches her off guard and she stops to look at you. “Why are you saying that?.”
“I betrayed this family, I shouldn't even be in this house.” You answer truthfully.
Polly raises an eyebrow. “Only my stupid nephew believes that. Fucking idiot. How dare he treat you like that?.”
You lower your eyes, feeling sad again as you remember all the barbarities he has said to you. “I don't want to talk about him, Polly.”
“I know, but I want you to know that this is still your house. He doesn't own it, I do, and until I say so, you're staying here.” Polly takes the shampoo this time and starts to massage your long hair.
“So... if I didn't do it, who did?” You look at her, but she avoids your gaze. “Only I knew everything, Polly. The date, where the guns were, the time he was going to attack Kimber. Only me.” Pol finishes washing your hair and looks back at you. “But I swear on my mother's grave I didn't rat him out to the police or Kimber. I would never do that.”
“I know, I believe you. But one person knew everything, someone must have overheard you talking, or someone leaked between you. And I have a feeling who that might be,” you frown and ask who with your eyes. “The barmaid.” She answers you.
You lose yourself in your memories, every time you and Tommy talked about the plans, she was there. The day Thomas met Kimber for the first time and then confessed to you about the guns, she was there, the night in the tavern when he told you the date and time to attack Kimber, you never saw her leave the bar, maybe she was hiding and heard everything. Suddenly it all fit together like a jigsaw puzzle.
“I always felt there was something wrong with her, and Tommy always stood up for her,” you confess to Polly.
She takes a deep breath. “I felt the same way. When you left, she magically appeared at the Garrison and warned Thomas that the police were coming. How did she know they were coming for him? Nobody knew, not even our men who watch all the streets, it's obvious she has direct contact with them, Thomas was about to turn himself in when she told him to go with her as she was sure the police wouldn't do anything to him.” You don't answer, and she continues, obfuscating: “It was her, she did all this.”
You swallow and shake your head. “We have no proof that she did it, and it's no use. To Thomas Shelby, I will always be the one who betrayed the family, and he will never believe that Grace is a bad person.”
“Of course he will. He's angry, he'll soon get over it and be able to think rationally.”
“No Polly. Thomas will believe Grace.” She looks at you blankly and you continue. “Something changed between us the day she came to town, he was always looking for an excuse to be near her and away from me. At first I thought it was just me being jealous, but it wasn't just that, the way he looks at her, and now you tell me they left together, I'm sure he's in her bed right now.”
Resigned, she blinks and asks, “You're just going to drop your arms like that? A 10-year relationship ends because of a misunderstanding and a woman lying to his face?”
You close your eyes. You breathe in through your nose and when you open them, you nod. “It's not just that. He hurt me physically, he told me I was worthless as a person, which is exactly what my father has told me all my life, and I just lost my baby on the stairs because of everything I’ve been through. I think those are enough reasons to stay away from him forever.”
Polly Gray stands up in surrender and says, “I'll leave you to finish your bath. I've left some clean clothes for you on that chair over there.”
You see her go to the door and before she opens it, you say, “Thank you, Polly. For always being there for me and for being the mother I never had.”
Polly's chest fills with love. Your mother was her best friend growing up, on that cold November day when she found you next to Elena's lifeless body her heart broke into a thousand pieces. From that day on you were the daughter she once lost, but hearing those words come out of your mouth made her feel vulnerable and loved.
With tears in her eyes, she replies: “And you will always be my daughter. Whom I will protect until the day I die.”
﹙. . .﹚
He tries to leave her flat as she finishes confessing that she has been betraying him all along, but she stops him and grabs his arm to stop him heading for the door.
“Thomas, you can't leave now! The police will find you and you'll be sentenced to death,” she says worriedly.
He thought for a second, two seconds. She was right, he couldn't leave now, not with the police after him, and all thanks to the woman who was trying to stop him: Grace Burgess. He should have investigated her thoroughly, he shouldn't have trusted her words like an innocent child, he never trusted people so easily, but he did it with her because he really believed she was a woman with good intentions to help him with the family business. But it was all a lie, she was the lie and the deception herself.
Grace calls him by name one more time, and it only makes his hatred for her grow a little more. He turns to her, grabs her by the throat and says angrily, “What do you fucking care, eh? I almost died today because of you, I could have lost my whole damn family! What else have you been doing behind my back?”
She grabs his arm and tries to pull his hand away from her neck, but he's stronger than her. “No more, Tommy! I promise you!” She replies in fright.
He stares at her and her blue eyes reflect fear, but it does not evoke anything in him, neither remorse nor pity. Grace was not important to him in his life and never would be, he was sure of that.
He let go of her forcefully and pulled her back. “She was right, your saintly face was just a mask. All this time I kept her away from me, trying to protect her, and you…” Thomas Shelby thinks about what he did to you, and his eyes mist over with tears that are about to well up. “You spied on us all the time. All this time I stood up for you, Grace, because a part of my humanity trusted you!”
His chest heaves as his anger grows, he clenches his fists and takes a deep breath, controlling the urge to hurt the blonde in front of him.
Grace's eyes water. “Tommy... understand me, at first I was just doing my job, but I started to have feelings for you and here goes, I love you.”
Tommy laughs wryly and looks at her as if she were a naive child. “Do you really think I could love you after what you've done? Are you that stupid?” he says coldly and Grace looks down, heartbroken. “I'll tell you something, Grace: all this time I came to you because you reminded me of her. I was lonely, and to protect her, I filled that void with you. What I felt for you was just a distraction from reality, sooner or later I would return to her arms. Even if she had really betrayed me.” He falls silent, takes a cigarette from his pocket and puts it between his lips. “I only love one person in this life, and she'll probably hate me forever for your lies.” He lights the cigarette and watches her with a judgmental look. "And because of me,” he whispers as he takes a drag. “So... tomorrow, when this is all over, you'll be on the first train back to London. If you don't make it, I swear I'll kill you. And believe me, I'm only holding back now because you saved me from the cops this afternoon.” He waits for an answer from her, but none comes. Angrily, he approaches her. “Did you hear me?!”
Grace nods slowly, her eyes wet with tears. “Yes, I heard you.”
“Good.” Thomas says as he nods, walks to the window and looks out at the grey city.
He fills his lungs with smoke again, thinking of everything he said and did to you, and regret consumes him inside. He can't lose you, you were everything to him and he would do anything to get your forgiveness. He must go out as soon as the sun rises and look for you.
He can't lose the only person that motivates him to go on in this life.
﹙. . .﹚
Polly stares at the window, lost in thought. You'd been locked in your room for an hour and you'd promised to go down and get something to eat, but you hadn't. But she didn't insist, you had lost your baby and you needed time to recover from that loss, and Pol understood that better than anyone. She too had lost her children and the pain of such a loss is like nothing else.
It is painful because even though you feel that your life is over, it goes on, tomorrow is another day and you have to pretend that nothing has happened and go on living.
Polly gets up from where she is, picks up the cup of tea she has just made for you and goes upstairs, knocking on the door, but there is no answer. “Darling, I've brought you something, let me at least give you a cup of tea.”
You hear her words and feel guilty for not coming down, so you wipe away your tears and signal for her to come in.
She opens the door and finds you lying down, she smiles kindly and pulls up a chair to sit beside the bed. “Drink the tea I've made for you.”
You thank her and take several sips while your mind is busy thinking about how you have never been happy. When you first found out you were going to be a mother, you had hoped to finally experience that thrill, but now it had all faded far away from you. You take a sip of tea to hold back your urge to cry and, in a very low voice, almost whispering, you ask, “Will it ever go away... all this pain.”
Polly looks at you sadly. “It never goes away, you just get used to living with the pain of loss,” she gets a lump in her throat as she remembers her children. “Soon you'll forget how it happened, how you felt. You'll forget how it felt to be a mother, in my case I've even forgotten their voices... that's the hardest thing of all, to forget.”
You take Polly's hand and squeeze it. “You never talk about your children.”
“Because it's painful to remember, my dear, and it's better to pretend it didn't happen so you can go on living,” she replies and looks down at the worn wooden floor. “But life is like that, it must go on, because there will always be someone who needs you. Someone who loves you and would give their life for you.”
You take a long swig of tea, drinking it in completely and shake your head, disagreeing with her. “I don't have anyone so I can get out of this life once and for all.”
Polly raises both eyebrows, surprised by your words. “You sound just like your mother. I just hope you don't end up like her. It would be painful enough to bury you by her grave.”
You look at her feeling guilty, for what you had said was rather selfish and foolish. “I'm sorry for what I said, it was supposed to sound funny to soften this whole shitty situation.”
Polly denies and looks up again. “Don't apologise for anything, I've often thought about leaving this world too.” She notices the empty cup and nods at it. “I see you're done.”
You nod and hand her the cup of tea.
“Now, I must cook dinner. Finn is sure to come in with an empty stomach demanding a refill,” Polly says and rises from her chair.
You laugh as you remember what a naughty little boy he is, just like his older brothers.
“And I hope you'll come down for lunch this time.”
“I will, don't worry.” You say, and look at the wall in front of you.
You wait to hear the door close, but there is only silence. Confused, you look towards the door and see that Polly hasn't left, but is standing with her back to you, her head down.
“Is something wrong?” You ask.
Polly slowly turns around, holding the cup in her hands and staring at it.
When she doesn't answer, you insist. “Polly?”
She shakes her head, knowing you won't believe what she's about to tell you, and overcoming her state of shock, she mumbles, “I'm sure you won't believe me, but... you're pregnant.”
You are speechless, unable to react in any other way. You stare at her, trying to decipher if she's joking, but then you think to yourself that she would never joke about something like that, let alone everything that happened to you less than two hours ago. So you just stand there, speechless, processing her words.
Polly looks up when she doesn't hear anything coming out of your mouth and says again, “Honey, you're pregnant.”
Tears threaten to well up and this time you shake your head. “It can't be, Polly. I lost my baby, I lost….you saw the blood.”
“I know, but it says here that you're still pregnant, unless this teacup is lying,” Polly says in a sceptical voice. “But that's impossible,” she whispers.
You quickly get out of bed to approach her, snatch the cup from her hand and carefully read the drawing on the bottom of the cup. Yes, indeed, the message said you were pregnant. You hand the mug back to Polly, walk over to the bed and sit down, tears welling up in your eyes. They fall, leaving a waterfall pattern on your cheeks.
“How is this possible, Polly? I was supposed to have a miscarriage an hour ago.”
The gypsy thinks of a rational explanation for this situation, and after a few seconds only one comes to mind. “You have aunts in London who are twins, don't you?” you say yes to her question. “Well, they say you have to be in the third generation to have twins.”
You listen to her carefully and realise what she is trying to tell you.
“You are third generation, dear.” Polly sits down beside you and takes your hand to hold and caress it. “You were to have twins, my child. And you lost one.”
“I was going to have twins.” You say sadly, but happily at the same time, all was not lost.
Polly smiles too, because out of the darkness has come a little light.
Suddenly you think of Thomas. He can't know about this baby. If he found out, he would never let you go. You know him well, and his ego to prove he can take on the world will always come before anything else. Your plan now was to leave. You needed to leave this place, get a good job, get a nice house that would be a home for this baby. This was your chance to find a better life, away from him.
You turn in Polly's direction. “You have to help me hide this baby. I don't want Thomas to find out.”
Polly's smile fades. “Why are you asking me?”
“Because if he finds out, I'll never be able to leave this town and live a healthy life. Polly, you know I can never be right with him in my life, I've already lost one baby, I won't lose the other.”
She opens her mouth to say that he has a right to know about the baby too, but stops herself. You were right. You will never have a healthy life with him. Thomas was a complicated man and today, sadly, proved the harsh reality.
With a sigh, Polly agrees to your request. “I will help you. How are you going to do that? Lies always come out, and one day your son or daughter will ask for their father.”
“There is no need to think so much about the future, Polly. All I can think about right now is taking care of this baby and getting out of this town.” You get out of bed and grab a bag. “But first I'm going to make a little stop. That damn woman won't get away with it, she'll pay for what she's done and I don't give a shit if Thomas Shelby tries to save her. I'm not leaving here without making it clear who she's been messing with.”
Polly gets out of bed too and walks over to you. “What are you up to?”
You open the wardrobe and start to pack your things. “I'm going to get revenge. That's what I'm going to do, Polly.”
﹙. . .﹚
Thomas opens the door and slams it behind him. He runs up the stairs and when he reaches his room, he opens the door but cannot find what he is looking for. Frustrated, he turns around and checks the other rooms, but as in the first room, he finds nothing. Without wasting any more time, he goes downstairs and searches the whole house, but finds nothing, or rather, can't find you anywhere.
Cursing, he walks towards the door, but a voice stops him.
“She left an hour ago,” says his aunt as she approaches him.
“Where did she go?” asks Thomas in despair. His aunt shrugs, but he knows she is lying. “Polly... I'm begging you, please tell me where she's gone.”
“I've told you all I know, Thomas. She left early and hasn't been back since.”
He puts a hand to his forehead, trying not to freak out. “Polly, I have to talk to her. I desperately need to set things right, so tell me where she is.”
“Fix things? Why?” she asks, her nephew turning away to avoid looking her in the eye. She smiles, “Oh, it was her, was it? The barmaid? Is that why you're so desperate?”
“Yes. It was her, but I've taken care of all her lies. She's leaving town this afternoon.” He turns, having told her the truth, and stares into her eyes. “Now. Just tell me where she is.”
Polly shakes her head. “I promised her not to tell you.”
Thomas shakes his head and begins to pace. “Your loyalty will always be to her, won't it?” Polly doesn't answer, confirming that it always will be. Just as he is about to claim her, there is a loud bang on the door. “Stay there,” he says to his aunt, pointing at her with his index finger.
He slowly approaches the worn black wooden object. There was a good chance that the police had followed him here, from where he left the flat, so he had to protect his aunt and his whole family, and if he had to give himself up to the police to do that, he wouldn't hesitate for a second. He opens the door and to his surprise there are no police on the other side, but a Harry who looks like he's seen something terrible.
“Tommy... you need to come with me to the pub. Something terrible has happened.”
Thomas frowns, but then he thinks about how you might have got there, and suddenly horrible images come to his mind that something bad might have happened to you. He takes off, almost running towards the bar, with Harry behind him. When he reaches the two doors, he pushes them open and enters the pub, and what he sees before him paralyses him.
“When I came in, she was there... lifeless. I don't know who could have done this, Thomas.” Harry tells him in an exalted voice.
Ignoring the man, he walks over to the lifeless body lying on the table. It was obvious that she had been shot in the head as the blood had spread through her hair. Tommy looks around and sees a gun on the bar. He walks over to it and recognises it immediately: it's your revolver, the one he gave you a few years ago for an emergency, so you could protect yourself if he couldn't. Sighing, he leans his back against the bar and lowers his head, shaking it.
“Today was her last day, she was supposed to leave this afternoon, who could have done this to this poor girl?.”
Thomas lifts his head and looks at Harry. “I think I know who it was. But it doesn't matter, we have to hide the body before the police do. Call Arthur and tell him to take care of it with the others.”
Harry, stunned by the gypsy's words, can only nod and goes off in search of the gypsy's men as he has been instructed. Meanwhile, he stares at the blonde woman's body. Her death only makes him realise that you knew the whole truth and, as in the old days, you had a sweet revenge.
He lights a cigarette, not knowing how to win your forgiveness, but he is sure of one thing: Grace Burgess was dead.
𝗟𝗮𝘀𝘁 𝗖𝗵𝗮𝗽𝘁𝗲𝗿
A/N: English isn't my first language, so forgive me if there are spelling mistakes.
Summary: you and Bakugo went camping, and you couldn’t believe your new shorts were enough to turn the big guy on so quickly
MY HERO ACADEMIA MASTERLIST - PART II
As the golden hues of dusk began to settle over the campsite, the thrill of a shared adventure coursed through your body, amplified by the excitement that Katsuki, your usually so gruff boyfriend, had agreed to this escapade into the wild.
It wasn't his idea of a perfect getaway, but the hint of adventure and the rugged trails appealed to his untamed spirit, and that was enough to tilt his decision.
Preparations for the trip unfolded over several days. You meticulously selected a new tent, sleeping bags, and all the essentials needed for survival in the embrace of nature. The excitement bubbled within you, and each item was a promise of the memories you were about to create together.
Upon arrival at the campground, a place chosen for its variety of trails, Bakugo’s eyes - those intense, crimson orbs - surveyed the land with a tactical gaze, as if plotting each step he would conquer on the morrow.
You began setting up the tent, fumbling slightly with the steel profiles. "Kats, could you help me with these?" you asked, trying not to get distracted by his scrutinizing look.
With a gruff nod, Bakugo joined you, his hands adept and sure as he assisted with the tent. "Why don't you start on the fire?" he suggested, his tone brusque but not unkind. "Seems like something you can handle, babe."
You set about gathering dry wood, arranging stones in a careful circle to cradle the fledgling flames you would soon coax to life.
When Bakugo watched you light the fire with practiced ease, a rare smile broke across his face. "Well, well, look at you. I'm starting to think you're a pro at this," he remarked, the rough pad of his thumb brushing a smudge of dirt from your cheek as he approached you.
His compliment warmed you more than the fire, and soon you were searching through your backpack for marshmallows, a sweet treat to end the day. "Hungry?" you asked, glancing back at him.
Bakugo's eyes lingered on you, particularly drawn to the curve of your hips and ass accentuated by your new shorts. “I like your new shorts,” he commented casually, completely skipping the question you asked.
Your cheeks heated under his gaze, and you turned to face him fully. "Do you? They're just material shorts."
"Which hug your ass so nicely," he growled softly, his hand finding its way to your lower back and pulling you closer.
You gasped, turning fully to face him, arms looping around his neck as he lifted you effortlessly. Your legs wrapped around his hips for stability. "Did my shorts turn you on that much, babe?" you teased, feeling his breath against your ear.
His only response was a husky, affirmative grunt as he carried you towards the tent.
Soon, you lay back on the sleeping bag, Bakugo hovering above, his lips tracing a path along your neck. His hands slipped under your t-shirt, discovering with a pleased murmur that you weren’t wearing anything underneath. "Aren't you being a naughty little shit today?" His voice was rough with arousal.
"You know I like it when you put me in my place," you murmured back, rolling your hips against his, your hands deftly working to remove his clothes.
Bakugo responded with equal fervor, his movements urgent as he shed his layers.
Overwhelmed by a primal urge, you found yourself driven by raw desire, pushing him off yourself and kneeling between his spread thighs. Your tongue darted out, tracing fervent circles around the swollen tip of his penis, the taste of the faint bitterness of your boyfriend’s arousal causing you to moan in delight.
Katsuki began to guide the rhythm, his hips gently grinding forward. The motion coaxed your lips apart, accommodating him fully as he nudged against the welcoming gate of your throat. With each advance, you adjusted, your throat opening to invite him deeper, your initial gag reflex swiftly giving way to a consuming need to take him all in. The feel of his throbbing length, coupled with your swirling tongue, sent vibrations along his shaft, and Katsuki rolled his head back.
You yanked one leg around his one leg to improve your position and started grinding your slick pussy against his knee.
“Fuck, yeah,” the man growled. The sensation was nearly unbearable. Known for his fiery temperament and fierce control, here he was, surrendering to the pleasure you elicited with your little expert ministrations. His pace quickened. The sensation of sliding in and out of your snuggly throat, the slick, rhythmic tightness you provided, pushed him to the edge.
The build-up was intense, his body tightening, a crescendo of raw energy that demanded release. With a guttural cry, he reached the brink. Bakugo’s release was rich, a surge of warmth that he felt from the base of his spine to the tip of his cock while his creamy essence spilled forth in a rush of exhilarating release, filling your mouth and dripping from its corners to your naked neckline.
With a swift motion, he yanked your head off him by your hair and pushed you flat against the sleeping bag. He knelt behind you, spanked your ass a few times, and cupped your cheeks, spreading them to watch your gaping hole, slick with your juices. “Such a whore you are,” Bakugo mused, and aligned himself with your entrance, and the world fell away as he entered you with a single powerful thrust. His presence inside you was overwhelming, a perfect fit that stretched you deliciously.
Your breath caught in your throat, the sensation overwhelming. "Katsuki..." you gasped, your fingers digging into the sleeping bag.
He set a rhythm, each thrust deeper than the last, his groans mixing with your gasps. "I love fucking my sexy girl raw," he confessed, his voice barely above a growl as his hips pistoned in yours. His rock hard cock plunged deep into you with a relentless rhythm.
You met each of his thrusts with an eager push back, your vaginal muscles clenching around his cock in a delicious squeeze that drew a low groan from his lips. Each movement you made was synchronized with his, a dance of desire that had you both teetering on the edge of ecstasy. You played with the limits of sensation, allowing the tip of his dick to nearly escape your snuggly pussy before sliding back down, pressing your ass against his abdomen tightly. Your hips gave a gentle, teasing twerk, enhancing the friction and intensifying the pleasure that thrummed through every nerve of his.
Each powerful thrust forced a sharp gasp from your lips, his rhythm unabating, as if he were carving his desire into your very being. His movements weren't just fervent - they were meticulously measured to break down every barrier you possessed. Each retreat was only a brief prelude to another overwhelming advance, sending ripples through you. The slick, warm precum trickled out of your abused, swollen pussy whenever he pushed back.
Each thrust stole the breath from your lungs, reducing your voice to ragged gasps and involuntary whimpers, as you were rendered pliant under his commanding touch, your body moving with his like a leaf caught in a storm.
“Fuck yeah, just like that, I’m gonna cream your sweet cunt, bitch,” Bakugo's voice was a husky growl, vibrating through the dense air of the tent. His hand landed with a resounding smack against your ass, the sting blooming across your skin.
His words were crude but thrilling, spoken with the certainty of a man on the brink of conquering, his every word as impactful as his movements, promising a culmination that would leave you both shattered.
When the climax overtook you, it was with a shout of his name, your world bursting into a kaleidoscope of sensation. Even as waves of pleasure overwhelmed you, a part of your mind remained acutely aware, sensing the potent surges of Katsuki's climax deep within your abused pussy. You discovered muscles you never knew you had - working on your boyfriend’s cock, pulsing, squeezing and milking him dry.
His muscles ripped and his thrusts became sloppy. Soon, Katsuki shuddered and expelled bolts of thick, warm semen, giving you one of the best creampies you had ever had. “Take all of my seed, bitch,” the man growled, massaging the meat of your ass. “Such a good, little whore.”
After he withdrew, he once again spread your ass, observing your mixed cums leak out of your reddened, swollen entrance. A satisfied, almost wicked grin spread across his face, reflecting a raw, triumphant pleasure.
Afterward, as you both lay catching your breath, Bakugo's arm wrapped protectively around you, his voice was tender. "I love you, Y/N."
"Love you too, Kats. I think I should wear these shorts more often if this is how you react."
Bakugo’s laugh was a sound you’d treasure forever. “Just wait until I get my hands on you again. You’re mine, Y/N, and I'll show you just how wild I can get.”
I just saw your last post and I had the idea of a one shot where Y/N is pregnant and grumpy Tommy accompanies her to the Christmas market for her safety, because she didn't want the peaky boys to accompany her.
Trust No One
Pairing- Thomas Shelby and Reader
I also have a modern Tommy version of this here.
"This is ridiculous!" you huffed, folding your arms across your chest. The deep red wool coat you wore, unable to fasten over your large baby bump. Your elbows now lightly resting on your stomach, as you tapped your foot in annoyance. "I do not need a babysitter,"
You blew a loose hair out of your eyes, wanting to grab the heads of the two men in front of you and bash them together. You were a grown woman! A married woman, soon to be a mother. You knew how to handle yourself, Tommy had even taught you how to shoot. You had a small pistol tucked inside of your bag.
So what was the issue?
"Following orders, Mrs Shelby," the older Blinder spoke up, unable to look you in the eye. He was at least ten years older than you, did he have no backbone?
"Do you always do what my husband says?" you snapped, wrapping a silk scarf around your neck. Turning to check your reflection in the mirror. You looked tired, despite applying make up. 4 am you had woken up, and not been able to get back to sleep.
"Yes, Mrs Shelby," they replied in unison.
Seriously?! No… this wasn’t happening you were going alone. Not with two babysitters.
Scooping up your bag, you marched toward your waiting car. Already out of breath, were you really feeling up to this today? The idea of curling up and watching Tommy work in his office, suddenly felt appealing. But no, you were dressed now.
“Don’t follow me,” you called over your shoulder, hearing their feet chasing after you.
Climbing into the car, you instructed your driver to your destination. It was only five days until Xmas, and you still had gifts to buy. Looking around, you noticed the driver hadn't moved. He caught your eye in the rear view mirror, tilting his head slightly.
Your husband was now stood in front of the car, hands on his hips. A cigarette hanging from his full lips, his glasses sitting low on his nose. "Fucks sake," you muttered, when he marched toward you, snatching open your door.
"Y/n," he warned sternly, "Don't fuck about they have to take you, yeah? I'm busy!"
"What's new?" you snapped, hand gliding along the curve of your stomach.
Desperately trying not to meet his intense gaze. You felt as though you had barely spent any time together. Would it be like this when the baby was born? Yes... probably, how would you cope? You had no idea how to care for a child.
"Y/n.." he sighed, dragging his large palm across his face.
"Drive please, Andrew," you called to the driver.
Tommy slammed his hand on the roof of the car. Glaring over the roof at his men, how the fuck could they not control you?!! They could fight, intimidate, kill, but talking his wife into needing protection for a xmas market? No, that was clearly too hard.
"Wait...." Tommy barked, rushing back into the house.
Three hours later...
"Aw wow," you gasped, picking up the thick blue shawl from the market stall.
“We just have to get this for the baby," craning your neck, you looked back at Tommy. Now leaning against the nearest wall smoking, carrying all of your shopping bags. A face of thunder, oh he was such a joy to be around.
"Tommyyyy..." you called again, in that seductive voice that drove him feral.
Throwing the cigarette butt, he stalked over, checking his surroundings. "Baby... don't be talking like that here, ey," He wrapped an arms around your shoulder.
"Why?" you cooed, "Worried people are gonna know how this baby got in here?"
A smile spread across his lips, bending his head he kissed you.
"Carry on like that, and I will remind you on the way home," his voice deepened. Breath floating across your cheek. Pulling away he looked at the blanket in your hand. "We going with Pol's theory then?"
You held the blue blanket over your swollen bump, "Hmm, hmm," you smiled, "You said she is never wrong," Little kicks pushed against your skin. "I think he likes it,"
Tommy rested his hand over yours, "That he does, get anything you want my love,"
After another twenty minutes, you stopped to rub your back. You had done way too much walking, and the weight of your bump was wearing you out. Turning your head from Tommy, you stifled a yawn. Not wanting to admit defeat.
"You know," Tommy spoke up, caressing your back, "You can admit it if you are tired and want to go home," There was a hint of a smirk on his lips.
You sighed through another yawn. "I am Tommy, I need to sit,"
"How about... we go home? Light the fire, open the fudge, and I will rub your feet, eh?" he suggested with a raised brow. That sounded like heaven!
"Ok," you replied, "And you run me a bath, and read to me?"
"If it makes you happy, Mrs Shelby. Anything for you," Tommy answered, taking your hand to lead you back to the car.
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