Any Trans Person Reading This I Love You

I actually can't stop thinking about how the losing party last election dressed like vikings and tried to break into the white house and the losing party this election are sharing suicide prevention hotlines

Back when the internet wasn't a thing, only your family knew you're stupid.. 😔

Don't be shy, toss the router to the bin

You all are trash. These are real fucking people. You're so delusional thinking if he's cheating, he'll wanna sleep with you. A fucking delulu who spends her time spreading rumors about a marriage she isn't even part of. Leave them alone. He has a private life for a reason, and the reason is...he respects his wife, his sons, and the time they spend together.

There is this thing called grass, go touch it.

a day late to my 6 years on t anniversary ✨🏳️‍⚧️ a short comic about looking back

I love when trauma makes characters messy. I love when characters don't know how to show love. I love when they lash out. I love when they're vile and break down. I love characters who aren't perfect victims. I love when stories don't excuse behaviour but allow you to understand it

Take It on the Run Pt. 2 | Thomas Shelby x Fem!OC

summary: Tommy keeps coming back to the cabaret but you never know why. Sometimes he stays but usually he doesn't, leaving his cigarette still smoking on the table. His flighty behavior and emotional unavailability starts to rub you the wrong way, but you can't bring yourself to hate him... but maybe you should.

warnings: outdated language concerning sex-workers; smut

word count: 4142k

Do I Move You?- Nina Simone 🎵

Daylight- David Kushner 🎶

Tommy Shelby told you that the cabaret “wasn’t his… thing” just a week ago and yet, when you begin your solo routine in a cream and sheer bodysuit, guess who’s sitting at that familiar table? You’re singing your song when you notice him, leaning back in his chair and holding a lit cigarette between his knuckles. His cheekbones are cast in an aggressive shadow but you can still make out his icy blue eyes looking back at you. 

You meet his gaze and match his neutral expression. You hadn’t expected to see him again after that night, maybe once or twice in passing but not here. You curse silently in your head and continue singing, feeling more self-conscious than usual beneath the hot stage lights. You can see his eyes pass over you though he makes no show of his thoughts when he takes another drag of his cigarette. 

Your song finally comes to an end and the crowd cheers with wolf whistles. Tommy doesn’t even clap, he stares at you for another moment and then stubs out his cigarette in the ashtray. He downs the rest of his whiskey and stands, and leaves. You watch his back as he walks through the doors of the cabaret and doesn’t look back. Suddenly, you feel like a little girl, standing alone on the stage in a room full of strangers. 

…

After the cabaret closes, you go back onstage to grab your jar of tips. The house lights are dimmed, practically off. The rudimentary electricity flickers every few seconds, stimulating a migraine the longer you look. Your bare feet make no noise as you walk across the sticky stage. The sound of a lighter flicking open sounds from somewhere in the audience, revealing a cut-angular face and a peaky cap. The lighter snaps shut and a cigarette ends burns red in the dark. 

“Sorry I didn’t stay- had important business to attend to,” Tommy stands from his seat and drops his lighter into his breast pocket. He looks you up and down, smirking slightly at what you look like after the show. 

“Were you waiting for me?” You ask, not sure whether to be flattered or afraid. 

“I thought I’d congratulate you on a good performance,” Tommy shrugs and weaves between the tables with the chairs upturned on their tops. 

“You didn’t look like you enjoyed it,” you banter back and move closer to the lip of the stage. Tommy waves his hand in a dismissive fashion, scoffing. 

“I told you, cabaret’s not really my thing.” 

“Right,” you nod and come to the edge of the stage. Tommy stands just below you, his face coming up to your hips from his position on the floor. He looks up at you, tilting his head to the side as he looks you over. Your bodysuit is revealing, barely covering your tits and cunt. He twists his mouth slightly in an expression that almost looks like anger- jealousy. 

“Nice costume,” Tommy mutters and takes a long drag from his cigarette. You don’t respond so you both fall into a tense silence until he speaks again. “So you said you live here. Is that right?” 

You nod and point backstage. “Back there. Just me and the other girls. We all have rooms back there.” 

“Is that where you take all the men?” Tommy asks, gesturing with his cigarette. 

“Jealous are we?” You tease. Tommy looks away and shakes his head once. 

“Don’t.” His voice is stern and sharp. You know you’ve touched a nerve and you smile softly, biting your lip and looking down at your feet. 

“It’s affordable and safe here with the other girls… that’s why I live here.” You answer finally and Tommy looks back at your face, studying you. 

“Safe?” He asks softly, his judgmental brow raised. 

“It’s safer than walking home alone every night after the cabaret closes.” You elaborate, gesturing loosely to the streets of Birmingham right outside the cabaret walls. “Anyway, I’ve been here for five years now- I started sometime after the war. You get used to it pretty quickly.” 

Tommy clenches his jaw, silently counting the number of male clients you might have entertained in your time here. He takes off his cap and runs a hand through his hair, exhaling tightly. 

“Sounds like a lonely life,” he says at last and you shrug. 

“So does yours.” 

Tommy looks back up at you with cold, annoyed eyes. He sets his cap back on his head and shoves his hands into his pockets. 

“Yeah? And what do you know about my life?” 

“Nothing, I can just tell.” You tilt your head to the side, looking at him intently. Tommy falters beneath your direct eye contact and bristles. 

“Really?” He asks, his tone hard, “how?” 

You crouch down on the lip of the stage so that you’re face to face with Tommy. You take his left hand and hold it with his palm facing you. 

“No wedding ring, so you’re not married. You’re a criminal, so you struggle to trust others which is why you usually work alone. And… you came here. What were you looking for if not for a distraction?” Your eyes look between his. He scowls, pissed that you can see through him- or at least that you’re saying it aloud. 

“Very observant,” Tommy says coldly. 

“It’s part of the job, you have to know what the men need from you…” 

Tommy keeps his face neutral but his eyes leave your face, flicking to the side before going back to your face. His jaw is tight.

“And what is it that I need?” He asks slowly, dangerously. You look at him for a little while longer and then shake your head. 

“I don’t know…” you admit. You look down at his hand and turn it around in your hands. Tommy looks down at you, his brow furrows and he scoffs sarcastically. 

“Why are you holding my hand like that?” 

You look up at him and roll your eyes. “You’re mean, you know that?” 

“I’m aware,” he scoffs again and pulls his hand away. He clenches his fist and relaxes it. You laugh softly at his attitude and lean closer. 

“Why are you so mean?” 

Tommy looks you up and down, his eyes stopping briefly on your chest. Slowly, he raises his hand to your cheek and slides his thumb across your bottom lip. 

“Why do you try to get so close?” Tommy asks, his lip curled. 

“Does it scare you?” You ask softly against his thumb. 

“No, it doesn’t scare me.” His words brush against your lips like a slap. He smells richly like tobacco, and it almost makes your knees weak. You sigh and stand, stepping away from the lip of the stage. Tommy’s hand falls to his side again and he watches after you with a tilt to his head.

“Goodnight, Mr. Shelby.” You whisper and grab your jar of tips. You can’t help but almost storm off the stage. Whenever you try to get closer to him, he has a way of ridiculing your feelings and affections. You don’t look back as you leave him standing in the dark cabaret. 

…

Then a few nights later, you see him again. And then again a few nights later. Those two nights he didn’t stay after or try in any way to speak to you. He’d started to just become another patron, another man that liked to watch you- fuck you, but nothing more. You couldn’t tell what he wanted or what he was thinking anymore and it started to really bother you. It’s not like you really had feelings for Thomas Shelby but you couldn’t deny how beautiful he was. As much as you hated the way he showed up and said nothing, you still loved seeing him in the audience surrounded by smoke like a veil. You knew he was there to watch you so you always tried to put on a good show in the hope that he would wait for you after. But he never did. 

Tommy was trying to avoid the Cabaret. He didn’t even have any feelings for you, not really. He was still grieving his true love and first wife, and didn’t have the ability to feel anything for anyone else. It wasn’t love that he felt for you- it was something else that he couldn’t quite put into words. He felt that you were really similar to him, that you could deeply understand one another and maybe even benefit from helping one another. But at the end of the day, you were just a cabaret dancer and Tommy didn’t need another cabaret dancer. But each time he forced himself to forget about you, he thought about your situation and the way you had spoken to him the first time he’d met you. You’d said that you wanted to be a “normal woman,” and while Tommy certainly wasn’t a normal man- maybe he could provide you with a more “normal” life. He knew he was capable of doing that, of giving you an escape from the cabaret into a life of safety, stability, and normalcy but wasn’t the idea too ridiculous to pursue? He didn’t even know you but he kept going back to the cabaret and seeing you. It made him angry to see you onstage, maybe it was jealousy but it was also knowing how much you hated the work. He knew he wasn’t a good man, but the boy he used to be was. He could do something right, something good but could he bring himself to do it?

So Tommy finds himself at the Cabaret again, sitting at his usual table, a cigarette dangling between his lips. This time when you see him sitting in the dim light of the bar, you stare him down. Tommy swallows tightly and taps his cigarette over his ashtray, watching you still. He knows what you’re trying to do. He doesn’t tear his eyes away from yours, his expression one of subtle challenge. You trail your fingers over your body starting from your pelvis up to your breasts. The whistles of the audience are lost on you, only capturing Tommy’s attention matters at that moment. His eyes follow your hands as they curve over your body and his jaw tightens. When your routine ends, he doesn’t leave, just blows out a cloud of smoke slowly. You bow and disappear backstage, a twitch of annoyance on your lip. 

Tommy flags down a waiter, one of his fists clenched at his side.

“I need you to pass a message to Diana, tell her to meet me backstage after the show tonight. Understand?” He mutters darkly and takes another drag. The young waiter, realizing who the patron is, swallows tightly and stutters. 

“Y-yes, Mr. Shelby. Anything else?” 

“No, that’ll be all.” Tommy exhales and returns his attention back to the stage. More dancers come on stage and perform but you aren’t among them this time. He downs another glass of whisky and checks his watch, the time is nearing midnight and the cabaret will be closing soon. Tommy watches from beneath his cap as patrons start to leave and waiters start busing the filthy tables. As the cabaret closes down around him, Tommy puts his cigarette between his lips and stands, sliding on his jacket. The waiter hurries over and ducks his head. 

“She’s ready for you backstage, Mr. Shelby.” 

“Alright, thank you.” He says around his cigarette and follows the man backstage through a greasy side door. 

“She’s in ‘er dressing room through there.” The waiter points to one of the doors along the thin, dim hallway. Tommy nods once again and waits for the man to leave before opening the door. 

When the door to your dressing room opens, you can’t help but jump a little. You turn around quickly, already ready for a fight. 

 “Tommy-” You start but he waves his hand through the hair, silencing you. 

“Don’t.” He says calmly and slams the door behind him. “Sit.” He points to the chair behind you. You look back at the chair, your brow furrowed. Slowly, you do as you’re told, looking up at Tommy with a hint of resentment in your eyes. 

“Why the hell are you looking at me like that?” Tommy steps closer and rubs his hands over his face, stretching the skin. 

“What are you doing here?” You ask, ignoring his question. Tommy steps closer, his brow raised. He can’t exactly explain why he’s so pissed off at you and because he can’t, it makes him angrier. 

“You know damn well why I’m here,” his voice is strained and tired.

“You keep showing up, just watch me perform and leave without speaking to me. What am I supposed to think?” You protest, your voice steady in its frustration. 

Tommy smiles and laughs, shaking his head like he’s laughing at his own joke. He sniffs and clears his throat. 

“You’re a smart woman, you can figure it out.”

You narrow your eyes at him. The truth is, you don’t know why he came back this time. You assume it’s for sex and that makes you even angrier. 

“Fuck you,” you snap and Tommy chuckles, his lips curving into a smirk. He closes the distance and leans his hands on the armrests of the chair, boxing you in. His face is just above yours, his eyes more vibrant in their emotion. 

“What that mouth of yours,” he says lowly, evenly. 

“Or what?” You start, “we fucked once and then you practically disappeared. You don’t have the right to tell me what to do.” You growl. 

Tommy’s grip on the armrests tightens as he tries to swallow down the mixture of anger and lust rising in his chest. Exhaling, he grabs your chin and holds it roughly in place. 

“I said watch your mouth. I’m not some random man you can just push around.” His voice is low and dark, like a threat. 

“No,” you mock unapologetically, “your’re Thomas fucking Shelby.” As if his name even means much to you. It certainly carried some weight in and around the cabaret but you’d told him before, you don’t concern yourself with business outside of the cabaret. 

Something snaps in Tommy’s eyes and he grits his teeth. “Listen to me. I won’t tell you again. Watch your fucking mouth,” he nearly spits. 

And before you can think it through, you respond. 

“Make me.” 

With a quick movement, Tommy suddenly pulls you to your feet by your arms and pins you against the wall, your face just beneath his. He doesn’t worry about being gentle with you, in fact he hopes it hurts you a little when he does this. You gasp out a breath of air when he shoves you against the wall and holds you by your shoulders. Your eyes widen and your lips fall open in surprise. 

“Is this what you wanted?” Tommy pants, his hand coming up to hold your throat. He stares directly into your eyes as you take a breath and struggle against him, your palms beating his chest. 

“Let me go, Tommy.” You ignore his question again, pissed. 

He grabs your wrists to keep you from hitting him and pushes his weight against you. He looks down into your eyes, his gaze changing from anger into one of passion. 

“You don’t really want me to do that, do you?”

You stop thrashing and take a breath, your eyes looking between his. As much as you hate him right now, god damn his eyes are beautiful. Remembering your frustration, however, you try to speak. 

“Tommy-” 

Tommy interrupts you, seeing the look of defiance in your eyes. He leans in, his lips close enough to brush against your neck. 

“Say my name again,” he orders softly. 

You take a deep breath, your heart racing. You can feel his breath against your neck and it sends shivers down your body into your cunt. Taking a second deep breath, you exhale. 

“Tommy…”

He smiles against your neck and starts to nip the sensitive skin beneath your ear. Then he moves his lips to rest against your ear. 

“I want you, Diana.” 

You close your eyes, sighing, your body starting to give in. But in the next moment you remember yourself and push him away. You move across the room, your legs weak and shaky. When you turn around, you’re both breathing heavily. Tommy removes his heavy coat and tosses it over a clothing rack. 

“For God’s sake, woman,” he grits out and runs his hand over his mouth. You exhale tightly, trying to hold yourself together and ignore the throbbing in your cunt. Instead of responding, you start to pull off your shoes and accessories, dropping them aggressively on the floor and makeup counter. You can’t even look at him without wanting to go back to him and wrapping your arms around his shoulders. Tommy scoffs as he watches you discard parts of your costume and ignore him. 

“Are you gonna keep acting like a child?” Tommy grumbles and leans against the wall with his arms across over his chest. You spin around, your arms gesturing wildly and your eyes flaming. 

“Jesus, Tommy! What do you want from me? Why do you keep coming back here just to never speak to me?” You rip off your feathered headband and toss it to the side angrily. Tommy watches you discard parts of your sheer costume. His eyes roam over your body, his lust once again starting to rule over his frustration. He sighs and passes a hand through his dark hair. He takes a breath, looking away from you, then finally turns back, his eyes jumping from your body to your eyes.

“I can’t get you out of my mind,” he says softly, as if he’s exhausted. 

You freeze, never expecting him to say something like that. Tommy shakes his head, frustrated at himself now for giving you and your situation so much power over him. Though he won’t say it, he might be obsessed with you. He suddenly feels ashamed and his eyes go cold again. 

“Is that not what you wanted to hear?” He asks, his eyes turning away from you. In the harsh dressing room light, his cheekbones cast dark shadows on his face in profile. You wet your lips and shake your head, not able to believe him. 

“I’m not a whore, Tommy. You can’t just come back whenever you want to fuck me,” you mutter, suddenly exhausted too. Tommy looks back, his brow immediately furrows. He jumps off from the wall and closes the distance once again between you. He places his hands on your shoulders, holding you still. 

“That’s not what this is,” his voice is low but clear- direct. He’s becoming more impatient by the minute. It’s like you’re refusing to see sense, to understand what he’s trying to tell you. He doesn’t understand why you’re the only thing he can think about and why he wants more of you, in all senses, now. His hands travel up your shoulders to the sides of your neck before they come to rest on either side of your face. His pointer fingers rest behind your ears, tucked beneath your flapper’s bob. 

You finally look up into his eyes, your heart falling into your stomach at what you see. You start to believe him, god-damn it. You do. Tommy lets out a gruff sigh and caresses your cheek with his thumb, his eyes traveling over your face as if he has all the time in the world to do so. 

“Don’t act like you don’t want me just as bad,” he mutters, his voice quieter than before. And when he says it, it doesn’t sound like he just means sex anymore. But what more do you want from Tommy Shelby than just sex? 

Your hands move to his lapels, gripping the button holes. You close your eyes for a moment as Tommy’s thumb passes over your bottom lip. He sighs when you close your eyes, his head immediately tilting down to get closer to your lips. 

“You drive me fucking mad, you know?” Tommy mutters so close to your lips that you can feel the sound of his words. His mouth dodges your lips and finds your neck, kissing below your jaw. 

“I hate you sometimes,” you whisper back, your breath jumping when you feel his hand slip down to your waist. He nods against your skin and moves his mouth slowly up to yours. 

“I know.” 

As he says this, you break and pull your chemise over your hips so you can undo your garters. Tommy groans softly against your mouth as he feels your garters snap as they fall away. Tommy runs his hands up your thigh as you unbutton his trousers, both panting softly between kisses. Tommy unbuttons his shirt and lets it hang open as he picks you up and sits back in the chair. He sets you down on his lap where you’re straddling him. His hands roam over your thighs as you take his face in your hands. The straps of your chemise roll off your shoulders but the fabric still covers your chest.  

“I want to see you, Diana.” Tommy slides his hands up your sides. You look down at him, your eyes meeting and holding contact.

“Not yet,” you whisper. 

Tommy’s hands slide back down your sides to rest on your hips. One of his hands starts to rub circles on the small of your back over your chemise. He smirks softly and tilts his head to the side. 

“Why not?” 

You smile back and lean down, brushing your nose against his. “You have to earn it,” you whisper. You kiss Tommy gently and he sighs against your lips, pulling you closer by your hips. 

“Earn it,” he asks, his eyes still closed, “how the hell do I earn it then?” He smiles and looks back up at you. You kiss him briefly, adding to his sexual frustration. 

“You have to be good to me.”

“Good to you?” He repeats, groaning when you start to taunt him with short kisses. 

“Be good to me,” you whisper again and begin to kiss him harder. 

He slips his arms around your waist and pulls you flush against his chest. He kisses you passionately and deeply. You moan softly against his lips and Tommy moves one hand to slide up and down your thigh, holding you securely on his lap. 

“Is this good?” Tommy mutters, smiling. You giggle and shake your head, breaking the kiss. 

“You can touch me… but you can’t look- not yet.”

Tommy leans his head back against the chair and closes his eyes, trying to contain himself. He sighs tightly and opens his eyes, his head still leaning back. His hands roam up your body to your waist and up to your chest. His hands are open and flat as he passes his palms over your breasts, still veiled in silky fabric. He watches your reaction as you gasp softly, your nipples hardening beneath his light touch. 

Your hands trail down his bare stomach to his unbuttoned trousers. You reach into his pants and pull out his erection. Tommy groans, his eyes not leaving yours as he continues to feel you up over your chemise. You rise up on your knees and align his cock between your thighs. You sit down slowly and sigh tightly as you feel him fill you up. You move slowly, rocking your hips back and forth. Tommy holds onto your hips, guiding you and matching your rhythm. He watches you in admiration as you take the lead, grinding harder and faster as you please. 

“Fuck.” Tommy pulls you down harder on his cock, causing you both to groan and gasp against each other. His hand slides up your back to rest against your spine, supporting you as you lean away from his chest. You’re whimpering as Tommy breathes heavily against your sternum, sweat glistening beneath your collarbones and between your breasts. You’re moving your hips as quickly as you can as Tommy guides you up and down. When you kiss him, he lets you slot your tongue between his lips. He groans when you suck on his wide bottom lip and his hips sputter up into yours. 

“Slow down, girl,” Tommy warns you between kisses, his hands slowing your hips down. “Stop for a second, look at me,” Tommy speaks softly though his words are broken up by heavy breaths. You stop and look down at him, your neck flushed with blood. 

“W-what is it?” 

Tommy looks up at you, his hands rubbing up and down your sides. Why he chooses this moment- he doesn’t know. He wets his lips. 

“Marry me.”

Can't wait to see where this is going! xx

F*ck Buddies

Part 14 ( more here)

Pairing -Modern Thomas Shelby and Reader

Warnings- 18*, swearing, violence, sexual content

I do not consent to my work being copied.

Feeling your happiness deflate, you turned to look at him. Leyton, your ex. Taking a step out of his embrace. He looked just the same, even had the same jacket on, was it actually painted onto his skin? He was a good looking man, yes, you would admit that. But, he always looked like he needed a shave and a bath.

No doubt, he thought he was going for the rock star look. He was in his thirties now though, time to smarten up, maybe? Your eyes grazed from his feet to finally meet his eyes. He was smiling, but it didn't seem a genuine happy to see you smile. It seemed strained, he seemed strained. Stressed even.

Had he ever been stressed in his life? You doubted it.

He was too laid back, had no... ambition, couldn't keep a job, couldn't keep a tenancy agreement. Didn't even have a car. You now wondered what you had seen in him? Your relationship had been... rocky. You were oil, he was water, you were fire, he was ice.

You were ambitious, liked to strive for more. Go on holiday, see the world, he was happy in his local pub. In the same seat, with the same friends... He would probably do that for the next fifty years.

"You look good, girl," he winked, eyes landing on your cleavage. Urgh, girl? Really? that used to give you the ick, it still did. You were a fully grown woman. Not a girl.

Ignoring him, you paid for the drinks. "Do you want something, or is this a general chit chat?" you eventually spoke, head tilting to look at him. Warily. What did he want? Money? Cigarettes?

"Straight to the point, as always. That dress is sexy," he licked his lips, raising a hand, he let his finger travel along your bicep, taking a step closer.

Grabbing his hand, you bent it back. Stepping on his foot with your heel, "Do that again, I will break your hand," you warned, through gritted teeth. Picking up the tray of drinks you began to walk towards the table. Hearing him follow close behind you.

"Thought I could smell bullshit in here," your friend Sophie announced, loud enough for him to hear. The whole table erupting in laughter. Hiding your smile, you slipped into the booth. Taking a long sip of your Bellini, it was much needed.

Shooting Sophie a scathing look, Leyton stood in front of you. "I need to talk to you, it's important," he stated, his tone serious. Unfazed by the glares from your friend group.

“So…” you encouraged him to continue, rolling your hands like you were wrapping him up. “Spit it out,”

“I … I not here Y/n, please,” he shifted from one foot to the other. "Just give me a minute,"

Pressing your hands against the table, you stood up. Irritated. If he was going to tell you he couldn’t pay back what he owed, it would be no shock. Once a loser, always a loser. As you walked to the dimly lit corridor with him. It hit you.

How different he was from Tommy. Tommy was successful, ambitious, determined. He worked long hours, had many business ventures. He was family orientated, a doting father. He took care of his body and appearance.

Leyton blew out a long breath, as you came to a standstill. He still looked nervous, sweat was forming on his top lip. Maybe he should remove the damn jacket. “Ok,” he began, holding his hands up defensively.

“I’ve, I, just need to.... I’ve,”

“Jesus, spit it out,” you snapped, tapping your foot. He wasn’t going to take up your time all night.

“I’ve got something, Y/n. You need to get checked,” he couldn’t look at you, as he finally said the words. Shifting from foot to foot.

“Sorry,”

A nervous laugh left your mouth, but you realised he was serious. He’s got something? What did that mean? Got what? A job hopefully. Still smiling, you waited for him to elaborate.

"Got what? What do you mean?" you quizzed him, feeling confused.

Reaching out for your elbow, he steered you further away from the crowd. "Chlamydia," he announced, like it was no big deal. Your whole body ran cold, you felt the blood drain. Ears ringing, the sound of the bustling bar fading onto the distance. No.. No...that couldn't be true.

No.

Looking from your group of friends across the room, back to him, you laughed nervously again. "No..., that can't be true, no, you.. you're not serious,"

"I am, I wouldn't fucking joke about this. I had to be tested, you should too," he stated, tucking his hands inside of his jacket. "It was fucking embarrassing, girl,"

It had been at least six months, since you last had sex with him. You would know if you had an STD surely? "But, but, I would know, I'm fine, I haven't got anything," you stammered out, holding onto the wall for support. Oh god... Tommy.... had you given something to him?

How would you ever tell him that?

"The nurse said it can be in your system for months, you don't always get symptoms," he shrugged. He fucking shrugged, the bastard, that was it, that was the last straw. You lost it, totally lost it. Dived at him, gripping onto him, trying to scratch him.

Hitting him over and over.

Letting all of your anger out. On him.

Feeling yourself being dragged away, you were ushered outside. Your friends following you. "Calm the fuck down," a voice warned you, gripping your arm so hard. It was the security guard.

“Shit, I know you don't I, you are Tommy's woman?"

Immediately letting go of you, he gave you space to calm down.

Tommy had just been drifting off to sleep in his King size hotel bed, when his phone rang. Groaning, he pulled himself up. He had rang your four times, and sent you five texts. Clearly, you were ignoring him. Rubbing his eyes, he answered without screening the call.

"Boss?" a deep voice said, he had no clue which one of his men it was. "Er we've had a bit of a problem your girlfriend was in a fight. We had to had to erm, we had to chuck her out,"

Tommy tried to process the words, "Y/n?" he asked, instantly feeling worried for you.

"Yeah, Y/n, that's her, I recognised her. I only recognised her after see, or I wouldn't have pulled her outside. So that was a mistake and ..." he tried to apologise. Shit, if Tommy had seen him put hands on you, he would be in the river.

"Mark, shut the fuck up, what happened?" Tommy asked, immediately beginning to dress.

Sitting on your sofa with Daisy, you poured out another glass of wine. Four you had downed, since you got back home. You were drunk.

"I broke a nail, the bastard," you slurred, sloshing the wine around the glass. Watching you from the open plan kitchen, Daisy poured you a glass of water. Your phone was ringing again, how would you even begin to explain this to Tommy?

"Drink some water, maybe you should go to bed. Try and rest," she suggested, sitting beside you. Your face with stained with mascara from crying, eyes red rimmed. "Do you want me to answer, call him back?"

You shook your head no, draining the glass of wine. "How embarrassing is this, Daisy? I'm gonna have to go to a clinic," you hiccupped, beginning to cry again. “A clinic at my age!”

A knock on the door stopped her from answering. "If that's him, you can tell him to fuck off," you shouted, realising how drunk you sounded. Head spinning.

Tommy could hear shouting on the other side of your door. What could have happened, to make you get into a fight with a man? And who was he? If he had laid on finger on you, this would be his last day on earth. He would see to that with a click of his fingers.

As Daisy slowly opened the door, he tilted his head to see you on your sofa crying into a wine glass....

"Tommy," you cried out, dissolving into sobs. Stumbling across the room to fall into his arms….

Tags- @cloudofdisney @romanogersendgame @loveableasshole @goldensunflowe-r @captivatedbycillianmurphy

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Great to hear my TASTE OF SHAME picked up some more traction!

...even funnier to see that the less intelligent part of fandom came to claim that Y/N in the story is underaged because Tommy mockingly called her a teenager😂

I'm afraid you need to go a bit offline. ❤️

To the rest, I'm working on two chapters! Gonna publish both in tandem for my 300 followers here! Merry Christmas 🎁🎄

WICKED GAMES

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

Word count: 4.6k

A/N: There will be part two

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Jackson hummed, just nodded and took a deeper breath.

“I assume you didn't have any,”

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

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

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

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

“It's disgusting and unhygienic.”

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

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

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

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

“I always do.”

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

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

“Because I was actually standing there.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I'm hot.”

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

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

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

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

“Why?”

“Because it's inappropriate.”

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

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

Good night, what's wrong with him?

~~~

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He looked at me, irritated.

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

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

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

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

I felt a lump in my throat.

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

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

I looked down, putting my phone in my pocket.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I exhaled with relief.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Will you carry me?”

“No” I groaned with despair.

“You were supposed to say ‘mhm”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

but know this, Lizzie. In this moment, in this room, I love you. you sound like you're ticking a f*cking box, and I don't know what's inside the box. never have you let me in!