Vervainandspritz - KEEP QUIET

guys send me some requests for little DRABBLES

Smut/angst/fluff anything!

The characters I'll write for:

• Tommy Shelby

• Lenny Miller

• Jonathan Crane

• Neil Lewis

• Robert Fischer

• Jackson Rippner

• Raymond Leon

• Jim (TDS)

etc

Lauren, that was INSANELY good! I absolutely love when Rippner is MEAN😈 The story is smooth, Y/N is spicy and everything goes together really well. Great job 👏🏻

Lesson Learned

•• Jackson Rippner x Reader ••

***!!!Warnings: mature sexual content, CNC, demeaning language, verbal abuse, condescension, harassment, mild choking, injury/harm, minors DNI, 18+ readers only!!!***

…………………………………………………………………………….

Standing back in the kitchen, Y/N turned and looked through the pass-through window as she heard the ring of the bell above the entrance.

“Oh, fuck,” she muttered under her breath as she saw him come through the door.

This was the last thing she needed right now, having to deal with him. She’d had the longest day of the longest week she could ever remember, her feet and back were killing her, and she just wanted to go home. But it was only 2:00 pm, and she still had over six hours left on her shift.

“Your favorite patron’s here,” Angie teased her as she saw Y/N trying to hide back in the kitchen.

“Please, please will you handle him this time? I’m begging you, Angie,” Y/N said. “Just this once.”

“Sorry, hun, you drew the short straw when he first started coming in here. You have to deal with him.”

“That was ages ago!” Y/N practically shrieked. “When are you guys gonna let me off the hook?!”

Angie grinned.

“Maybe when he actually starts tipping,” she said. “Which’ll be more likely the faster you get out there, you know.”

“The day he leaves a tip, or even shows the tiniest hint of being a decent human being, will be declared a modern day miracle,” Y/N replied. What she didn’t realize was that she was running her fingers through her hair and adjusting her breasts in her bra as she spoke.

Angie gave her a quizzical brow as she watched her and then responded.

“For someone who hates him so much, you’re going through an awful lot of trouble to gussy yourself up,” she said.

Y/N immediately dropped her hands from her chest.

“What?! No, I’m not!”

“Then your hair and your tits somehow just primped themselves,” Angie smirked with sarcasm.

“Whatever,” Y/N said, rolling her eyes and tightening the apron around her waist. “You and everyone else here can go to hell.”

“Admit it, you secretly like him,” said Angie.

“I like him better than I like you right now,” Y/N countered, “although it’s a pretty close call. You both can kiss my ass.”

“I think he’d probably take you up on that,” Angie smirked again. “You two just need to fuck already and get it over with.”

“I’m walking away now,” Y/N said flippantly over her shoulder as she headed out of the kitchen, Angie laughing behind her.

Walking through the swinging door, Y/N stopped behind the counter and watched him. She was still slightly hidden by the coffee pot station, and she observed with narrowed eyes as he took his wallet out of his back pocket and placed it on the table before taking a seat. He always sat in the same booth, and ever since the very first time he’d come in, she’d had to wait on him.

At first, she’d won the opportunity, having beaten all the other women at a game of rock, paper, scissors. When he’d first come in, they were all climbing over each other to serve him, everyone noticing how good looking and sexy he was. But Y/N had won, and a huge smile was plastered on her face as she made her way over to him. But by the end of his meal, however, her smile was barely hanging on.

The guy was a cocky, condescending, sexist asshole, and he’d soon revealed this within his first few visits. At first, Y/N had thought he was just trying to be funny, or maybe that he was a bit chauvinistic, but just trying to appear smooth. However, after his visits became at least twice a week frequencies, they’d all come to learn he was just an asshole.

After all the other waitresses had taken a turn serving him, they decided that another round of rock, paper, scissors would determine who’d have to deal with him from there on out, and just as fantastically as she’d won the first time around, Y/N had conversely epically lost the second time. She was convinced she was cursed.

Taking a deep breath and grabbing the coffee pot (he always had a cup of coffee), she stepped out from behind the counter and begrudgingly made her way over to his booth, her heart rate increasing slightly, which she convinced herself was because she was already annoyed with him.

Jackson was casually reclined in the booth, sitting back like he owned the place, with a bored and slightly irritated expression on his face. He didn’t have to look around or call any attention to himself; he knew she’d be there in a matter of minutes, and he drummed his fingers on the back of the booth as he waited. And then, as always, he could smell her before he saw her, the enticing, floral, feminine notes of her perfume preceding her, which he always tried to ignore but somehow never could. Unconsciously, he paused drumming his fingers to lift his hand to his head and brush his fingers through his hair before then reaching down and quickly straightening his blazer.

Taking a final deep breath, Y/N approached his table and tried to ignore how sexy he looked as she stopped in front of him. Without bothering to greet him in any way, she simply reached out and grabbed the overturned coffee mug in front of him, flipping it upright and then filling it up. After she finished, she steeled herself and then finally looked at him, raising her brows expectantly, but her expression still of exhausted irritation.

“What do you want?” she asked him with as much enthusiasm as one would have for picking up dog shit. In fact, she’d rather have been doing that right then instead of serving him.

“Paying customers deserve more courtesy than that,” Jackson said to her, his condescending smirk appearing immediately, his blue eyes shining with self-satisfaction.

“Tipping customers deserve courtesy,” Y/N countered with a challenging tilt of her head, “but you deserve something I’m not allowed to say while on the clock.”

Smirking, Jackson arched a brow at her.

“In a bad mood today, sunshine?” he said mockingly.

“I wasn’t until you walked in,” she replied.

“Then I’ve done my job,” Jackson smirked again.

She narrowed her eyes at him then, shoving the coffee mug back towards him with intentionally too much force, causing the hot brown liquid to slosh over the rim and splatter across the tabletop. He could wipe it up himself if he didn’t like the mess, she thought to herself.

“You’ve got ten seconds to tell me what you want, otherwise your plate will contain whatever shit is clogged in the grease trap behind the fryer,” she said to him.

“At least then we’d know you were actually doing your job and cleaning the kitchen. After all, it’s clear your talents are limited to diner-related tasks.” Jackson briefly looked down then and gestured to the coffee she’d spilled on the table before he continued. “Although, clearly, basic competency and coordination aren’t your strong suits, so hopefully that grease trap isn’t too complicated for you.”

At that, Y/N felt about ready to rage slap him.

“Maybe one of the other gals around here can show you how to properly handle women’s work. Then you’d be good for something.”

Her blood boiling, Y/N looked down at him and spoke through gritted teeth.

“What do you want?” she demanded again slowly.

Goddamn her boss for not allowing her to ever refuse him service. Back when Jackson had first started coming there, she’d asked Stu, the owner, if they could tell Jackson that he wasn’t welcome back again. But Stu was nearly as much of a sexist ass as Jackson was, and along with not caring how Jackson made Y/N feel, he also only saw dollar signs.

“A paying customer is a paying customer,” he’d replied, and then he’d ended the conversation.

Sure, Y/N could have made Jackson’s experiences there unfavorable in the hopes that he wouldn’t return, but she’d already done that (and continued to do it), and unfortunately, it hadn’t deterred him. It almost seemed like Jackson got some kind of sick pleasure from tormenting her, and no matter how much lip she gave back to him, how unpleasant she acted, and how much she insulted him, he still kept coming back.

Of course, there was the other resort of spitting in his food or violating it in some way, but no matter how much Jackson tormented her, Y/N couldn’t bring herself to do that. It was too disgusting, not to mention Stu would fire her on the spot if he ever caught her spitting in a customer’s food or purposefully wasting it by intentionally cooking it poorly. And although she was unaware, Jackson had been watching her for long enough to know that she never did anything like that, so he never had to worry about if she'd fucked with his food.

Still waiting for him to reply, Y/N continued to glare at Jackson, and he smirked in amusement at having done such a good job of pissing her off. And now, he thought, why not get her in a little trouble?

“You know, I’m feeling so off put and unwelcome by your attitude that I’d like to speak to your manager,” he said then. “I feel it’s only right he knows what kind of treatment you’re displaying to patrons.”

“Sorry, he’s not here; you just missed him…Jack.”

Y/N smiled to herself as she saw Jackson’s smirk immediately falter. For whatever reason, he hated being called “Jack” instead of “Jackson”, and she guessed it was from a childhood of bullying due to his last name.

She’d discovered it long ago, after his first few visits. Initially, he'd paid with cash those times, but one day, he'd handed her plastic, and when running his debit card through the register, she thanked him for his business after handing him his card, and he’d quickly corrected her.

“Well, thanks for stopping in again,” she’d said. “Have a good night, Jack.”

His face grew dark.

“It’s Jackson,” he said back to her. “Don’t ever call me Jack.”

Then he was out the door before Y/N could say anything more. Puzzled, she looked down absentmindedly at the receipt printing out of the credit card reader, and when she looked at the print, her eyes landed on his last name, and she realized she hadn't made the connection initially.

Rippner. There was her answer; she immediately caught the joke.

Ever since then, she’d occasionally call him Jack just to piss him off, but she hadn’t said it in months. And he called her every condescending pet name in the books, never having actually called her her name. In fact, she wasn’t sure if he even knew her actual name.

But he knew her name, alright. He knew everything about her. Everything.

He knew she’d been a waitress there for three years now, that she was single and lived alone in a one-bedroom apartment, that she baked chocolate chip cookies and called her parents every Sunday night, that she used strawberry scented body wash, and a million other things about her. He’d seen her do everything and knew her daily routines and all her behaviors, including the fact that she masturbated once a week, working at herself with the sexiest little pouts and expressions scrunching up her beautiful face as whiny, desperate little moans escaped her mouth.

He made it a point never to miss watching her when she did that, and he’d never gotten away without a raging hard-on. As he’d follow it up with jerking himself off to what he’d just seen, he’d always come hard with the sound of her moans still echoing in his ears and her pouty face imprinted in his vision as his cum would release with the force of a bullet leaving a gun. He always needed two tissues to clean up from her, and he was never sure if he felt more angry or more satisfied after he finished. After all, he resented the fact that she had the hold on him that she unknowingly did. The one time a different waitress had had to serve him because Y/N had apparently called out sick, Jackson had got up from the booth and left without another word, and then angrily gone home, once again unsure whether he was angrier with her for daring to not be there or himself for being so bothered by her absence.

As Jackson glared up at her after she’d called him Jack, she smiled smugly, despite simultaneously thinking that he looked even sexier when he was angry. And as she noticed in her peripheral how he clenched his fists, she found herself wondering how those hands of his would feel squeezing her thighs or pulling her hair, or how skillful his fingers could be working inside her. As much as she hated to admit it, it was thoughts like those that ran through her mind as she’d bring herself to climax on top of her duvet, and then afterwards, she’d be disgusted with herself for getting off to a man who was such a condescending piece of shit.

As her luck would have it, Stu appeared from the back office just then, revealing that he was in fact still there. Upon seeing him, Jackson’s glare turned into an evil smile, and he spoke again.

“Guess it’s my lucky day; looks like he came back. So, do me a favor and send him over here, otherwise I’ll have to get him myself, and we both know that if I have to do that, you’ll be in even more trouble.”

Y/N narrowed her eyes again, her self-control hanging on by a severely frayed thread.

“If you’re so unhappy with my service, why don’t you just leave?” she asked him. It was the same question she asked him nearly every time he was there.

“Someone’s gotta teach you how to do your job right, sweetheart. I’m doing you a favor and letting you practice on me, although, as usual, you’re failing miserably.”

“I swear to God, Rippner…”

“Are you gonna send him over, or should we just give him your two weeks notice right now?”

Glaring at him again, Y/N spoke a final time before turning away to get Stu. She couldn't afford to lose this job.

“There’s a very special place in hell for people like you,” she said to him lowly, but Jackson just gave her that cunty grin.

As she walked away, his eyes uncontrollably lowered to her ass, and he was immediately reminded of her panties. He knew which ones she’d put on today, and he felt his cock twitch as he thought about the lace-edged cotton and ripping it off her hips.

Y/N watched from behind the counter with her arms crossed over her chest as Jackson spoke to Stu, Jackson pretending to be a perfectly pleasant customer. She could see the phony smile and hear the friendlier tone of voice he'd used the first couple times he'd come in and she'd served him. She almost laughed to herself as she thought about how wrong she'd been when she initially thought he was charming.

After several minutes, Stu turned and walked back over to her, and just before he spoke, Y/N caught the smug smile Jackson was shooting her over Stu's shoulder.

"He just told me that you refused to offer him a menu and that you intentionally spilled coffee all over the table and told him he could clean it up himself, and then that you told him he should get out," Stu was looking at her sternly, Y/N not responding. "I don't care that he's a regular or how many times you've served him, you don't get smart with paying customers like that. Do you hear me?"

"Stu, the guy's playing you," Y/N replied with exasperation. "He's a total asshole. He's just pretending to be nice to get me in trouble."

"Well, if you treated him the way he says you did, then you're lucky I don't fire you right now."

"Stu! He harasses me every time he's here!"

"I don't wanna hear it," Stu held up a hand and stopped her. "Now, I want you to go back over there and apologize to him, and then you're gonna stay after your shift tonight and mop the floors."

"What?! No way!" Y/N cried.

"Well, then you can walk out of here right now just like you told him to do," was Stu's careless reply. "But your name won't be on the schedule anymore."

Internally seething, Y/N took a deep breath and uncrossed her arms.

"Fine," she gritted out.

Stepping out from behind the counter again, Y/N slowly walked towards Jackson's table, holding his eyes and glaring at him the entire time she approached. God damn those eyes of his.

"Hi there," Jackson said with that phony smile as she stopped in front of him. "Feeling a little more chipper now, are we?"

At the sight of his infuriating (gorgeous) smile, Y/N clenched her fists at her sides, and when she opened her mouth, he cut her off.

"Just remember, you owe me an apology, sweetheart, so think very carefully about what you're going to say, unless you want me to talk to your boss again."

But just after Jackson said that, they both turned to look as Stu called out to no one in particular that he was leaving to go to the bank, then he pushed open the door, the bell ringing above it as he exited.

Now her turn to sport a smug smile, Y/N looked back at Jackson and then spoke. This was her chance, and after the week she’d had and the way Jackson had just gotten her in trouble, she decided to finally stoop to his level.

“Looks like your luck has run out,” she said.

Then, before Jackson could respond, Y/N reached out and grabbed the mug of coffee she’d poured for him earlier and lifted it from the table. She grinned even wider as their eyes locked again, and then, after a second’s pause, she tipped the mug in her hand as she held it above him, pouring the hot coffee into his lap and relishing the look on his face as it hit his body and drenched his clothes.

“Fuck!” Jackson shouted the second he felt the hot liquid hit him, and he jumped to get up from the booth, but the entire contents of the mug had already soaked him. Fortunately, it had cooled slightly since when Y/N had first poured it, but it was still very hot, and his entire front was stained and soaked.

“Fuck!” Jackson shouted again as he stepped out of the booth, Y/N watching him with a smugly triumphant smirk. She stepped back a couple feet and had crossed her arms over her chest, continuing to smile as she heard a mix of whispers and sniggers coming from the other patrons and the servers who’d just witnessed what had happened.

After looking down at himself and shaking the dripping liquid from his clothes and hands, Jackson looked up at Y/N with a heated glare.

“You should really be more careful, Jack,” she said after their eyes had met. “Coffee’s hot.”

Narrowing his eyes at her, Jackson still stood there, his clothes still dripping.

“And it looks like it’s time for my break, so I’m not gonna be able to help you clean up,” she continued.

As she said that, Y/N pulled out the towel that was tucked into the waistband of her apron and lifted it between her fingers, tauntingly dangling it in the air.

“Sorry, Jack,” she finished then. “You take care now.”

And with that, Y/N whipped around and walked away, swinging the towel around in the air as she moved and disappearing through the kitchen door as the smug smile remained on her face.

Her smug little smile wouldn’t stay on her face for long, Jackson immediately decided as he huffed out an angry breath. Glaring after her once more, he then walked towards the entrance and stormed out the door, the bell above it sounding out its signature ring as he did.

•.•.•.•.•

As she finished putting the last of the chairs on top of the tables, Y/N briefly looked out the window into the street.

The occasional group of people walked by on the sidewalk, making their way to the local bars as the rest of the daytime businesses they passed had long since shut their doors.

It was dark out now, and the diner had officially closed two hours ago. But as an addition to her punishment of staying after her shift to mop the floors, Stu had designated Y/N as the server who had to wait out the last diners. So rather than running back home for a short break, or sitting in the back and having a quick bite to eat, she'd had to stay up front and finish serving and then cleaning up after the final straggling customers while everyone else had been allowed to go home. At this point, she'd been there longer than twelve hours, and once the customers had finally left and she'd locked the door, she'd then had to take all their plates and cutlery back to the kitchen and wash them by hand before finally being able to put up the chairs and prepare to mop.

Dispensing a glass of soda for herself from the fountain, she momentarily took a break as she sipped on it before then sitting at one of the counter stools and briefly sliding off her shoes. Flexing and pointing her toes as she felt the relief of finally sitting down, she then rolled her neck and stretched her back before reaching for her glass again.

When the diner was like this — empty, quiet, and now only lit up by the lights of the fountain and coffee machines, kitchen lamps, and dessert cooler, it was almost serene. With the exception of tonight, she usually enjoyed closing up by herself because she could relish in the quiet and people watch out the window for a while. But tonight, she was still here because of him, and she almost wished he was there so that she could drench him again as she'd throw her soda in his face, the arrogant, cocky bastard. So unbearably infuriating and sexist and annoying and menacing and hot....no, not hot. Not sexy and somehow still arousing, even though she hated his guts. Of course not.

Stop it, Y/N, she thought to herself. Why are you still thinking about him like that? You hate him. He doesn't turn you on; he infuriates you. You don't enjoy the hint of something sinister that he gives off every time he looks at you with those eyes. You don't want to know what it would feel like to have him forcefully pin you down with one hand as he reached into your panties with the other. That's not what you think about when you get yourself off.

It was the hardest she'd ever tried to deny every thought to herself, and as usual, it wasn't very effective. But she did what she always did and forced herself to think about something else as she slipped her shoes back on and stood from the stool. Untying her apron from her waist, she mindlessly dropped it down onto the countertop and then headed towards the back to retrieve the mop and bucket.

Reaching for the cleaning solution, she uncapped the bottle and poured the measured amount into the bucket before then turning on the spigot beside the floor drain and filling the bucket with water. As the water loudly flowed from the line, she could almost swear she heard the ring of the bell above the entry door sounding from up front, but she knew it was just a phantom sound. It happened often when she was alone, similar to the thought that she'd heard her phone ringing while she was in the shower, only to look at it upon getting out and seeing she had no missed calls. Besides, it was impossible — she'd locked the door behind the last customers. She'd made sure of it, as she wanted to get on with the cleaning and mopping as quickly as possible without the risk of someone else walking in and begging for a quick bite.

Once the bucket was full enough, she sunk the mop inside it and then pushed it out to the main area, struggling, as usual, due to the bum wheel the stupid thing had on it. Looking down in order to try and maneuver the bucket where she wanted it to go, she pushed it back behind the counter to start there first. But as as she nearly had it where she wanted it, it rolled awkwardly, causing a small wave of water to slosh over the edge and create an instant puddle around her feet.

"Shit!" she said in frustration as she released the mop handle, and she reached into her back pocket for the rag that she'd tucked there to keep under her feet as she moved throughout the room. Instead using it to sop up the puddle, she bent over and wiped at it, pieces of her hair falling in her face as she did so.

When she'd absorbed as much as she was able to with the rag — which wasn't a lot — she stood back up and tossed it through the kitchen pass-through, hearing it land somewhere on the floor behind her with a wet plop. She then wiped her hands on her jeans and then lifted them to smooth her hair out of her face, and it was when she then turned around and lifted her head that she immediately screamed and jumped backwards, the shock of seeing him sitting at one of the counter stools enough to nearly give her a heart attack.

"Holy fuck!" she cried out as she clutched her chest, the pounding of her heart was still rushing through her ears.

"Evening, sunshine," Jackson said to her with the biggest smirk on his face.

"Jesus fucking Christ!" she practically shouted as she looked at him, completely caught off guard. "Where the hell did you come from?! How the fuck did you get in here?!"

Jackson just kept smiling.

"Door was open," he said as he watched her with amusement. "You really ought to lock it when you're here all alone, you know."

No, there was no way it had been unlocked; she distinctly remembered locking it. She shook her head.

"Look, I don't know how you got in here, but if you don't get out right now, I'm calling the cops," she said to him.

"Oh really?" Jackson mocked her as their eyes remained locked. "And tell me how you're going to do that without this."

He reached into his pocket and pulled out her phone, holding it out enough to reveal it but not within a reachable distance for Y/N to grab it, or even try. She narrowed her eyes as she remained braced against the back counter.

"How the hell did you get in here?" she asked him again.

"Like I said, the door was unlocked."

"No, it wasn't," she responded with a shake of her head.

"Doesn't matter," Jackson said as he slipped her phone back in his pocket and leaned forward across the counter. "What matters is that I never got my lunch this afternoon, which means you still owe me a meal, which I have every intention of getting out of you."

"Come back during business hours," she said, silently trying to remember if her keys were under the counter where she usually left them, or still in her purse somewhere in the office. She could make it to her car by going out the back door if she had to. But as she suddenly remembered tossing them in her purse when she'd punched in that morning, she mentally cursed.

"No, now works better for me," Jackson responded. "This way, it's nice and quiet, and I get your full, undivided attention. After all, you still owe me that apology, too. I wanna hear loud and clear as you tell me how sorry you are."

As he said that, Y/N’s heart began pounding even faster. The look in his eyes was making her feel some bizarre combination of terrified and thrilled, and although the logical part of her brain told her she shouldn't challenge him, that she should just somehow get out of there and find a way to call the police, the part of her that wanted to piss him off even further won out.

"The last thing you'll ever get from me is an apology, Jack," she said tauntingly as she straightened herself from the counter. Her eyes were fixed on him with intensity. "So I hate to tell you, but you wasted your time coming here, Jack. And if you don't get out right now, Jack, you're gonna get a repeat of what I did to you this afternoon. Jack."

As she'd been speaking, he'd risen from his stool, staring her down with equal intensity across the counter. With each utterance of his name, his anger grew, matched to the same level with bitter arousal as she spat out his name from that pretty little mouth.

"As simple-minded as we both know you are, I hope for your sake you know when to shut up," came Jackson's response, his voice low with anger. "You're on wafer-thin ice, sunshine."

As she registered his words, she was vaguely aware of the skip of her heart and the tickle of wetness that had suddenly formed in her panties, but she was equally as angry.

"I said get out," she growled at him, but Jackson remained where he stood.

"Tell me you're sorry," he replied.

"Never."

"Last chance."

"Fuck you."

At that, Jackson shifted, and the movement startled her so much that, instinctively, Y/N reached out and picked up the glass of soda she'd been drinking, which was still sitting on the counter between them. Without another thought, she thrusted it forward, throwing the contents at Jackson and once again drenching his front as the liquid flew from the glass.

As he registered what she'd just done, there was a moment of tense silence between them as Jackson looked down and processed his current state. Y/N was momentarily frozen in her spot as she watched him, but as soon as he slowly lifted his head again and looked at her, her heart began to race. The fury in Jackson's eyes unmistakable, there was a brief second of insane tension between them, and then, something snapped, and, dropping the glass, Y/N took off.

Hurling himself over the counter, Jackson reached for her as she dashed away, but he narrowly missed her, and Y/N tore out from behind the counter, darting over the mop bucket as Jackson now stood behind the counter, too. He dashed forward after her, kicking the mop bucket out of the way as she jumped over the remains of the puddle still left on the floor. She'd made it out from behind the counter and then ran for the front door, but in a second, she felt herself slipping, her left foot having landed in another puddle left by the mop bucket, apparently having sloshed more water than she realized when she'd been maneuvering it behind the counter.

She shrieked as she slipped, her left foot sliding and her knee going down as her legs split beneath her and then she hit the floor. She could hear Jackson behind her, and just as she tried to pull her left leg forward and hurriedly get back on her feet, Jackson reached her and bent down, grabbing her ankle and pulling her back, her torso sliding across the floor, and she shrieked again.

Her heart pounding, Y/N rotated her ankle in Jackson's grasp and rolled her body, turning over onto her back as he continued to grip her ankle. She heard him grunting in his efforts to keep his hold on her as she then thrashed around, and when he looked down at her and their eyes met, she gave a final violent shake of her leg, causing his grip on her to slip from her ankle.

His hand was now on the heel of her shoe instead, and Y/N wrenched her leg out of his grasp, her foot slipping from her shoe, which Jackson still held in his hand as she then pulled away. She seized the moment of him being briefly thrown by the loss of his hold on her, and she rolled onto her stomach once again before then pushing herself up and scrambling to her feet, once again running for the front door.

Jackson was right behind her, having quickly recovered from losing his grip on her as she pulled her foot from her shoe. As she got to her feet again, he reached for her once more, but he slipped in the same puddle she had, and he stumbled as she ran for the front door. He managed to remain upright, however, and upon regaining his balance, he saw her quickly look over her shoulder at him before she darted again and shoved open the front door, the bell above it ringing as she ran through it and out into the parking lot.

Charged with fury and a dark desire, Jackson's only goal was catching her, teaching that little bitch a lesson and forcing every last plea and whine out of her that he could. Tearing through the door after her, he saw up ahead by the glow of the street lights that she was running through the parking lot, foregoing the sidewalk and cutting through the alley behind the building next door.

Immediately running after her, Jackson followed the same path she took as he kept his focus on her form up ahead. Every so often, she'd look back over her shoulder to see where he was, and when she did, she slowed down enough to allow more distance between them to close. Of course, Jackson was faster than her, but she'd got a head start, and she picked up her pace again as she turned back from looking at him again.

Her heart pounding and her body pumping with adrenaline, Y/N's only thought was the here and now, looking for anything she could throw in his path to detour him or any sudden shortcut she could take to dash away. As she reached the end of the alley, she saw several large metal trash cans up ahead, and upon reaching them, she blindly grabbed them and hurled them over onto their sides, the cans falling open and rolling behind her as they landed with a bang and created a minor obstacle to the path back out onto the street.

Jackson saw her take the turn to the left, and as he easily jumped over the trash cans she’d knocked over, he ran after her down the sidewalk, her hair flying behind her as she ran. Being at the end of the alley, this area of the road was empty of any other people, the only sounds being each of their pounding footsteps as their feet met the pavement. But she was still missing a shoe, and as she stumbled yet again due to the uneven impact that had caused for her feet, she looked over her shoulder again to see how close he was and if she had the time to take the slightest pause.

Jackson had closed more distance between them due to her stumbling, and as he saw her look back again, he caught the questioning expression on her face as she was clearly debating something. But then they’d reached the busier part of the street, and she suddenly dashed off the sidewalk and into the street, bounding between two parked cars and crossing, narrowly missing being hit by an oncoming car as she ran across, the driver honking their horn and slamming on the brakes.

After barely dodging the oncoming car, Y/N looked behind her again and saw that the driver was still paused in the road, and Jackson had been cut off as the car had slammed on its brakes. Quickly, she reached down and ripped off her other shoe.

Slamming on the hood of the car with his fist, Jackson then rounded the front and followed after her once more, seeing her stand back up from quickly bending over to remove her other shoe.

Y/N looked up again to see Jackson just a few feet away as he ran towards her again, and she turned to keep running, but she tripped slightly on the curb as she stepped back onto the sidewalk, and she doubled over as she tried to catch her footing. As she reached out her free hand to try and steady herself, she felt Jackson’s fingers suddenly curl around her wrist and pull her back towards him, her body slamming against his as he yanked her more tightly in his grip and then their torsos collided. She screamed as she felt him throw her against the body of a car parked along the curb, and as her back slammed against the door, she cried out again in pain.

Every vein in Jackson’s body was pulsing as he wrapped his arms around Y/N and threw her against the car. Her chest was pressed into his and he could feel her lungs heaving as she cried out and then tried to catch her breath. She thrashed around until he pinned her harder against the car, and she was finally forced still momentarily as he then slotted his knee between her legs and grabbed her wrist.

She shouted out again, and she tried to pull her wrist out of his grasp, but to no avail. As she was forced still, she felt Jackson’s knee slot between her thighs, and she tried to ignore the way it created a pleasuring friction against her panties. She felt herself dampening again as she met his eyes and saw how he was looking at her as his chest heaved against hers, and she pictured him lifting her legs and slamming his cock into her with the same force with which he’d pushed her against that car.

Finally getting her still, Jackson looked down at her as his breathing heaved and he grunted as she struggled against him once more. When his knee met the apex of her thighs, he looked at her again and their eyes met, and he couldn’t decide in that moment what he wanted more, to wrap his hand around her neck as he slammed his cock inside her pussy, or force her down onto her knees and shove his cock down her throat.

What he didn’t realize was that she was still holding her shoe in her other hand, which she’d hidden behind her back as she’d been thrown against the car. Thrashing around and shouting once more, Jackson was forced to shift, and when he did, she had enough room to pull her arm out from behind her back. Before he could see it coming, Y/N lifted her arm and whacked her shoe across the side of his head, and Jackson was forced to release her wrist, reacting to the unexpected hit and momentarily retracting from her.

As Jackson pulled away, she leaned forward and hit him again, whacking her shoe against his head once more before then shoving his chest and knocking him back further. Then she slid out from between him and the car and took off again, throwing her shoe to the ground as she did.

Seething with anger now, Jackson quickly recovered and turned as she ran off, immediately chasing after her again as she dashed down the sidewalk. But she was at a disadvantage, as the toll her long day and lack of food had taken on her was catching up with her now, and she was feeling the exhaustion creep up as she panted with each step, feeling herself slowing down as she desperately tried to keep running at the same pace. On a regular day, Jackson would already be faster than her, but especially now, having long since lost her head start, he was right on her tail.

It was obvious that she was slowing down now, and as he kept his eyes on her as she kept running, Jackson could see that she was making her way back to the diner, the two of them having essentially run in a big circle and now poised to end up right back where they started. In the last block, he decided to let her keep the slightest gain on him, because as soon as he had her back inside, her victories would be over.

The diner in sight up ahead, Y/N pushed herself the last block and ran with everything she had. She looked over her shoulder once more and saw Jackson right behind her, close enough that he could just reach out and grab her, but he didn’t. As she finally reached the front door of the diner, she wrenched it open just enough to slip inside, Jackson slamming his shoulder into it as she yanked it closed behind her. Pulling with all her might on the handle, she kept him from pulling it open long enough to lock it, and once she’d turned the lock, she backed a few feet away, panting as she watched him briefly pull on the door. He looked up at her then and their eyes met through the window, but when she then saw him reach into his pocket and pull out a key, her eyes widened in shock as she then realized that that was how he’d gotten in in the first place that night.

He had a key to the diner. How?

Not wasting the time to stand there and watch him open the door, Y/N backed away further and then turned around and ran to the back hallway, trying to decide where to go. She panicked as she saw that Stu had yet again left the huge laundry sacks full of soiled linens in front of the back door, blocking the exit. As she stood there, she heard the distinct sound of the bell above the door ringing, and she knew she was trapped now. Her only possible option would be to somehow get back to the front door and go out that way again. But she’d have to get through the kitchen first.

She could hear Jackson’s footsteps approaching, and she quietly began weaving her way around the huge laundry sacks and then slipping into the kitchen, trying to keep her breathing as quiet as possible.

After watching her for so long, Jackson knew the entire layout of the diner, and he also knew that Stu had left the laundry at the back door as usual. Because of that, he knew Y/N would have no option but to make her way through the kitchen and try to go back to the front door. So rather than follow after her down the back hall, he walked through the main dining area and headed for the swinging door that led into the kitchen, knowing he’d be able to intercept her somewhere on her way through the kitchen.

She realized she no longer heard his footsteps, and as Y/N tiptoed slowly across the tiled floor, she kept looking over her shoulder, unsure if he’d be behind her or in front of her. When she turned her head forward once more as she passed by the dishwashing sink, she accidentally knocked over a huge metal ladle that’s handle had been sticking out over the edge of the counter. As it clanged loudly on the tile as it hit the floor, she gasped and squeezed her eyes shut in a regretful wince as she waited for the sound to stop.

Opening her eyes again, she then quickly slipped off to the side, hiding behind the tall bread racks just in time, as she saw Jackson appear through the doorframe as she tucked herself deeper behind them. Slipping her hand up to her mouth, she tried to muffle the sound of her breathing as her heart pounded, seeing him look around and then step further into the kitchen, passing by her as he went to look back by the walk-in pantry.

As soon as he was out of sight, Y/N slipped out from behind the racks and continued through the kitchen. What she didn’t know was that Jackson knew exactly where she’d been hiding, though, and as soon as she’d stepped back out onto the floor, he turned back around and followed after her.

Now passing by the servers’ station, Y/N was only a few feet away from the swinging door that led out to the dining area. Taking a final calculated step over a wayward crate of drinking glasses, she leaned forward and reached for the door, but just as her hands were about to come in contact with it, she suddenly felt a pair of arms roughly wrap around her waist and violently yank her backward.

She screamed as she felt him grab her, and as her back met his chest and he lifted her feet off the floor, she thrashed around again, kicking her legs and wriggling her torso as Jackson squeezed her so tight she thought she was going to puke. Her arms still momentarily outstretched for the door, she desperately reached for it one more time before Jackson walked them further backwards and then lowered her back to the floor, whipping her around to face him and then shoving her back against the wall, grabbing her wrists and pinning them on either side of her head as he pressed his chest into hers.

“Looks like your luck has run out, sweetheart,” he growled, throwing back at her the words she’d said to him earlier that day. Then before she could respond, he wrenched her away from the wall, throwing her against the counter instead and pinning hers arms once more.

Screaming, Y/N thrashed around in his grip, fighting against him as he squeezed her wrists and pressed his body into hers.

“LET GO OF ME!!!” she screamed, and then forced herself forward, shoving herself against him as Jackson kept hold of her wrists. As he shook her violently, she screamed again, but when she tried to pull her wrists from his grasp, she was unable to, and he just yanked her towards him again, once more whipping them around and shoving her back up against the freezer door.

“You put up a decent fight, sweetheart, I’ll give you that,” he breathed out. “But we both know you’ve got nothing left. And now I want that apology.”

Staring at each other, both their chests were heaving, and after a split second, Y/N narrowed her eyes and then clicked her tongue before puckering her lips and then spitting in his face.

Momentarily pulling back as her spit hit his cheek, Jackson unintentionally loosened his grip on her wrists, and Y/N ducked beneath his arms and made for the door once more. But Jackson recovered too quickly, dragging his sleeve over his cheek to wipe away her little gift as he lunged after her and grabbed her around the waist once again. Grunting as she fought him, he flung her up onto the counter and she cried out as the back of her head hit the shelf above them. Momentarily seeing stars, Y/N briefly stopped resisting him, and Jackson seized the opportunity as her head hung in front of him and her shoulders sagged. Standing between her legs dangling over the counter, he raised his hand and wrapped his fist in her hair, roughly yanking her head back to force her to look up, and she whimpered as he did.

"You don't know when to quit, do you?" he said to her as he shook his head, and her eyes held his.

Still panting, her chest heaving intensely, Y/N narrowed her eyes as she spoke.

"You're a miserable piece of shit," she muttered as she still struggled to catch her breath.

His fury reigniting once more, Jackson released her hair and dragged his hand to her neck instead, wrapping his fingers around her throat and squeezing, hearing the satisfying sound of her breath catching in her throat as she struggled to inhale, her eyes widening briefly.

"And you're even stupider than I thought," he shot back, his grip on her neck slightly tightening, but she could still speak.

"I hate you," Y/N croaked out.

Jackson tightened his grip even more, and he was vaguely aware of his cock twitching in his pants.

"So stupid..." he replied. "Now say it."

He jostled her by her neck as he demanded the apology once more.

"Never," Y/N croaked again.

"Say it."

She narrowed her eyes.

"Fuck you, Jack."

At that, Jackson's veins pulsed, and he felt the familiar combination of anger and arousal that plagued him every time he watched her. As he suddenly pictured her getting herself off, his cock immediately stiffened, and when he looked down to see her nipples hardened beneath her shirt and her eyes briefly dart to his lips, he clenched his jaw and released a humorless scoff before yanking her face to his by her throat.

"Little bitch," he growled, and then he slammed his mouth against hers as he tightened his grip on her neck a final time.

Moaning and then squirming as Jackson's lips landed forcefully on hers, Y/N wasn't sure whether she was more surprised or aroused as she fell forward into him. The anger returned after the initial shock, and after a few seconds of her lips battling with his, she lifted her arms and planted her palms on his chest, shoving him away and feeling his hand fall from her neck, the grip of which had loosened slightly when he'd pulled her to him. But when she forced him away and he backed up a step, their eyes met once more, and there was no denying the hatred-fueled desire that had come to a head between them.

Hurling himself back at her, Jackson fisted her hair again as he crashed their lips together once more, only this time, Y/N accepted him with angry eagerness, moaning again as she kissed him back, gripping his shoulders and sharply sinking her nails into his skin through his jacket.

Jackson hissed at the feel of her nails clenching his shoulders, and he quickly grabbed her wrists and roughly yanked them down, holding her palms against the counter as her legs wrapped around his waist.

He heard her moan again as he thrusted his bulge against her core, and then he released her wrists as she leaned into him and scooted closer to the edge of the counter. He'd never wanted any woman more than he wanted her, and his admission of that to himself only made him angrier, and he violently grabbed her thighs to pull her even closer, squeezing so hard that she tore her mouth from his to cry out in pain.

As she felt Jackson's hands squeeze her with nearly blinding pain, Y/N had to part from his mouth, a high cry escaping her as she did. But instead of recoiling further, she found herself wanting more, and she didn't even know how to process that. So she didn't. All she knew was that she'd never wanted any man more, and she tried to ignore how unbelievably twisted that was as he grabbed her again.

Jackson was practically ready to combust, needing to be inside her, to fuck the sass right out of her, and he quickly reached for her shirt and tore it over her head, Y/N cooperating as she raised her arms to allow him to. As he yanked the straps and cups of her bra down, Y/N simultaneously shoved his jacket off his shoulders and down his arms, then urgently worked at his shirt buttons as he roughly cupped her breasts and kneaded them, being anything but gentle as he pinched her nipples and then lifted his hands to yank her hair again. As her head jerked up at the tug of her hair, their eyes met briefly again, and Jackson's eyes burned with blue fire before he angrily shoved his head into her neck.

Y/N gasped as she felt him immediately bite harsh nip after harsh nip into her neck, and she tore open his shirt and scratched her nails against his bare skin, dragging them across him and leaving raised scratches all over his chest, his skin reddening to the same color as the marks he was leaving on her neck. Once again, she felt him roughly grasp her breasts, and she arched into him as he did, whimpering as he pinched her nipples again and then pulled back from her neck.

"Maybe I can fuck some common sense into you," Jackson growled as he reached down for her waistband and opened her jeans, yanking them down her hips and then moving his hands to his own pants as Y/N shimmied the legs of her jeans down to her ankles. Jackson quickly undid his belt and opened his pants, drawing his painfully hard cock out of his boxers as Y/N watched, feeling her pussy weeping as she eyed his large, stiff cock, which he pumped several times in his hand. Clenching around nothing, she wanted to feel him inside her with pathetic desperation.

"Although, seeing as it's you, I don't have very high hopes for you learning anything," he finished with a growl, and then he moved his hands from his cock to her hip and violently ripped her panties from her body, Y/N crying out briefly again as the way he roughly tore the garment from her hips left a fabric burn across her skin.

Her pussy now exposed — and it was the most luscious, gorgeous pussy he'd ever seen — Jackson released a deep, guttural groan as he saw her slick shining against her pink folds. She was so wet, and he gave her absolutely no prep before he grabbed her hips and pulled her right to the edge of the counter, her ass barely still resting on it as he then fisted himself at her entrance and then slammed his cock inside her so roughly that several metal bowls fell from the shelf above them and crashed loudly onto the floor.

"Ahhhhh!" Y/N cried out in an insane combination of pain and pleasure, her walls instantly enveloping him as Jackson slammed his hips into her. She felt every vein and ridge of his large cock rubbing against her insides, and she clamped down in desperate need as she met his thrust with a jutting out of her own hips. Her head fell back and she planted her palms on the counter to brace herself as Jackson pulled almost all the way out before violently slamming into her again.

He himself was groaning in angry pleasure, her gorgeous, slick pussy so tight and so warm, tugging him every inch of the way each time he pulled out, almost as if she was trying to keep him inside her. As Y/N met Jackson thrust for thrust, he saw her face scrunch up in the same adorably sexy way it did whenever he watched her pleasure herself, except he recognized that it was even more evident than when she touched herself.

"I think you're enjoying this a little too much," Jackson said to her through heavy breaths as he continued to pound into her. "It's pathetic, really."

Shifting her head and meeting his eyes, Y/N was panting as she answered him.

"Fuck you," she stuttered out, unable to think of anything else to say.

Jackson gave her a wicked grin.

"That's apparently what you've wanted all along, isn't it?" he taunted her. "For me to fuck you? That's the only explanation as to why you're acting like such a fucking slut right now." He slammed into her again, so harshly that she had to reach up and grab his shoulders, which he allowed her to do, breathing in her intoxicating scent.

"I hate you," she muttered again as she gripped him, but anything else she was about to say was immediately silenced when Jackson suddenly ran the pad of his thumb over her clit and then not-so-gently rolled it between his fingers as she fell against him at the sensation.

"The feeling's mutual, sweetheart," he bit back as he rolled her clit again, and the sound of the whimper that came from her had his balls tightening and him nearly ready to come.

He rolled her clit again and again, looking down and watching as his cock slid in and out of her and her folds continued to drip with glistening want. She was so exquisitely tight, and he knew that this would not be the last time he fucked her. It may be the first, but it definitely wouldn't be the last.

As he heard her cry out again, he could sense her weakening, and her arms fell from his shoulders as she could barely keep up anymore. Once again, he lifted his free hand to her hair, wrapping it around his fist and yanking her head up to meet his eyes.

"I should really teach you a lesson and not let you come," he said as he gave her an evil smile. "See how much more pathetic you get if I leave you without anything."

At that thought, her brow furrowed in desperation and her walls clamped even more tightly around him. She was fairly certain she'd die if he left her without a release. She just knew she would come harder with him than she ever had before.

"Please, Jackson," she suddenly heard herself begging him in a whiny voice, and she had absolutely no idea where the words had even come from. She would never have allowed herself to beg this asshole for anything in the world, but with his cock inside her and his thumb stroking her clit, the standards she set for herself obviously went out the window.

Upon hearing her whine, Jackson's smile widened into a huge, shit-eating grin, and he slammed into her again with insane force.

"So, this is what it takes to make you know your place, huh?" he said as she whimpered again. "Well, I'll take begging over an apology any day." He then lowered his thumb to her folds again, circling around her clit but avoiding the exact spot, causing Y/N to scrunch her face again with a tiny, desperate squeal.

"Say it again," Jackson growled. "Beg me."

Coherent thoughts were now gone, Y/N instead only registering the insane arousal and the desperate need she had for him to make her come.

"Please, Jackson," she mewled again.

He felt his balls tightening once more.

"Again," he demanded.

"Please! Jackson, please!"

"Still not good enough," he said through labored breath, his hips meeting the inside of her thighs again as her legs wrapped tighter around his waist.

"Please! Please...please...please...please!" Y/N begged with every thrust, panting and shaking as she felt just about ready to fall back against the counter. But at her last plea, he finally made contact with her clit again.

"Again," Jackson demanded a final time, and he leaned forward and harshly bit her neck as he rubbed her clit in repeated circles.

"PLEASE!" Y/N nearly screamed, and then it became an actual scream as she came violently, her entire body shaking as he finished rubbing her out. Jackson then slammed into her in three final thrusts, feeling her arms wrap around his shoulders and falling against her as he exploded inside her with more intensity than he'd ever felt before, shouting out a loud groan. By the time he was finished, he could feel his cum leaking back out of her onto himself, overfilling her, and he was certain he'd never shot a load that big in his entire life.

Without thinking, he reached up and fisted her hair again, tugging her head to meet his lips once more, dominating her mouth with an aggressive, bullying kiss.

They parted then, and for several moments, he remained inside her, both of them panting to catch their breath. But soon, Jackson pulled himself out of her, stepping back and tucking himself back inside his boxers before then re-doing his pants and buttoning his shirt.

Still panting and watching him silently, Y/N was still trying to process everything that had just happened, and when Jackson looked up from his clothes and their eyes met again, she realized she’d never felt simultaneously so satisfied while still wanting more in her entire life. As he reached up and smoothed a hand through his hair, he spoke.

"Who knows, sunshine, you may just be teachable yet," he said mockingly, and then he lifted a hand to her bare thigh and gave it a condescending little pat.

He then headed for the swinging door, Y/N watching after him, and when he spoke a final time, she could only nod in response.

"You close again tomorrow night, don't you?" he asked her, although he already knew she did. And when Jackson saw the affirmation Y/N gave him with a nod of her head, he shot her his trademark smirk.

"Offer to stay late and mop up again, and we'll go for round two after your shift,” he said as he held her eyes. “We'll see how well you receive tomorrow night’s lesson, and if you can prove to me that you learned anything, then maybe I’ll give you another gold star.”

And with that, he walked out of the kitchen and then out the main door, the bell above it, as always, ringing out its signature sound as he did.

@nyxxie-pooh @xsweetcatastrophe @allie131313 @empatheticlove @febris-amatoria

@hannibellector @pawnsong @meister95 @alltoowellbeneaththemangotree @beastofburdenxo

@fracturedhaven @aphroditeslover11 @galactict3a @lyarr24 @wild-rose-35

@judig92 @cillmurphyslover @ladyvenera @karah-bear @k1ng-l3on

@ceirinen @peskybinders @fuseburner @shaddixlife @neonpurplestars89-blog

@garrison-girl-08 @devotedlyshadowytheorist @breakthestereo @muhahaha303 @mostly-marvel-musings

@an-eclectic-of-mass-destruction @vervainandspritz @wonderlanddreamer @novashelby @honeymoon8

@cardan-official @pkmonka @meadows5 @mamawiggers1980 @fmo166

@vastcapacity @mspookington-blog @teawonderfultea-blog1 @fkmarrycill @sl-newsie

@mrs-bond @shopgirl6us @cillianbabe @myers-meadow @ajajin3

HEADCANONS - what would he do to get you in the mood?

Characters: Lenny Miller, Jonathan Crane, Robert Fischer, Jackson Rippner, Raymond Leon, Emmett (TQPII), Tommy Shelby,

A/N: Requested by @lau219 ,y'all feel free to send requests.

~~

Lenny Miller - Leonard is an experienced man, he knows how to get his way around Y/N. Pretty frequently on his way home, he would already have a rough plan on the evening ahead of them. Sometimes grabbing a bouquet of flowers in the nearby florist shop or a bottle of wine. After coming home, Lenny impatiently would find her around the house, searching for any physical contact he could get. "Did you miss me like I missed you?" He'd ask her in that velvety voice, thumbs rubbing up and down on the little crevice of her hips, almost teasing. Sometimes they end up sitting on the couch, Y/N's feet on his lap as she told him all about her day, while Leonard listened and gave her a massage, hands barely visibly moving higher with each stroke. "Poor girl" He liked to tease, closing the proximity once his pants became too tight in a crotch from the simple touches. "Left you all alone here" From that point, he didn't play coy. Knowing all the right spots to touch, he effortlessly kept making her go soft, almost putty in his hands.

~

Jonathan Crane - Jonathan's methods differed depending on the mood he was in. Sometimes days in Arkham were more difficult than the others, and so his patience ran thin. He'd come back home abruptly, peeling the layers of clothing away. The way he'd press his bare, hot chest against Y/N's back, searching closeness he could get only from her. "Was it a bad day?" She would ask, turning around to face him. Sometimes it would all start from the touch as innocent as holding hands, when he'd direct her hand to his cheek, steely blue eyes carefully studying her body covered in the clothes she was wearing. Pulling her closer till their fronts would connect, and she'd feel the proof of his urgency. His own hands landing on her back, massaging the skin and pulling her against his chest while simultaneously hiding his face in her neck. The way she'd feel him so intensely slightly trembling, connected with shivering delightfully from how his hot breath bounced off her skin could come off as symptoms of fear to a mind so great in his very major.

~

Robert Fischer - Robert's favourite way of showing affection would come on display as soon as he made it through the door. He thoroughly enjoyed the ability Y/N taught him - talking. Using words of affection was one of the greatest joys for both of them, after all the time it took for him to get used to doing so. "I couldn't stop thinking about you. Missed you so much" He spoke softly into her ear, the vulnerable tone of his voice showing nothing but honesty. Y/N immediately mirrored his mood most of the time, growing warm in his embrace. In a couple swift movements he'd gain access to her skin, caressing it delicately while simultaneously holding her gaze. "I need you" he'd confess quietly, leaning to capture her lips in a kiss so needy, Y/N could barely breathe.

~

Jackson Rippner - Jackson was anything but patient when this urge would hit. It wouldn't matter whether she was busy or not, his hot hands would grasp her hips, often pressing her against something to gain control. Leaning down to graze his nose against the sensitive skin of her neck, taking in the scent that never failed to make him hard. "Jackson, I'm busy" Y/N would sometimes manage to stutter out, feeling the heavy weight of his body against her back. A quiet chuckle would push past his lips, as he pressed harder. "What can possibly be more important than taking care of your man?" His voice would come off arrogant, often purposely. Knowing how well it worked on working her up. His roughed up hands would move higher, barely brushing against her breasts to come resting on her throat, not squeezing just yet. "Feel what you do to me, sweetheart?" He'd growl, nearly on the edge of just... Bending her over the desk and taking what he wanted. Giving her throat a little squeeze, he'd quickly reach between her legs, getting a hold of her. Jackson's lips would stretch into an arrogant grin as he'd feel the wetness beneath her panties. Lightly rubbing against her covered slit, he'd lean closer to whisper. "So wet and needy. I'll give you what you need, but you owe me one, hmm?"

~

Raymond Leon - Raymond wasn't one to ask, not to.. talk too much. He liked to use the advantage of how easily bothered Y/N would get seeing him like that. "What are you doing?" he'd ask like it mattered, leaning on the counter, crossing his arms over his bare chest. His scent and warmth would be enough to make her notice the close proximity, causing Y/N to squeeze her thighs together lightly. Not going unnoticed under his watchful gaze, as he'd keep looking at her, knowing well she could feel him watching. Brushing his arm lightly against hers, he'd move around pretending to be busy before finally having her cornered. She'd be breathing heavily, eyes taking greedily the sight of his bare, freckles skin and muscles on his torso. Sooner or later his hands would end up on her face, pulling her closer. Their noses brushing against each other as he'd smile, looking deeply into her eyes. "What got you so bothered, honey?" Raymond would ask, because even though he hated talking, he secretly loved hearing her talk.

~

Emmett - His favourite thing to get Y/N in the mood would always be kissing. He'd lean in for a kiss, his arms wrapping tightly around her middle to keep her in place. The deep groans leaving his lips would echo in her stomach, making the heat pool to the lower side of it. "So beautiful" He'd murmur in a deep voice, keeping her lips occupied with his own while slowly touching and grasping every inch of her skin he could get to. "Emmett–" Y/N's whiny voice would never cease to make him lightheaded as he moved lower, kissing a trail they both knew by heart already. "Keep saying it, baby. Keep saying my name" His voice was rougher with lust as he kept her legs apart, kissing her stomach and hips. She had a hard time staying still, squirming needily in his grasp. "Come here.." He cooed, looking her in the eyes as his face moved closer to where she needed him the most. "Let me take care of you" Emmett whispered, as his face leaned down, diving between her legs.

~

Tommy Shelby - Thomas loved the control he secretly held over Y/N when it comes to her needs. Being so fluent in directing them with his touch or affection. The way she'd move around, doing her own thing while pretending to not feel how he looked at her. "Come here, darling" He'd eventually call out, patting his thigh. He'd use the close proximity to look her in the eyes, encouraging to talk about her whereabouts when he was at work, while petting her thighs lightly. He touched and felt, eyes following the tender lines of her body beneath the clothes she wore. He'd proceed to touch caress her cheeks, pulling her closer as he murmured how beautiful she was. Y/N could never remain unaffected under his rough fingers and soft words, leaning into his touch with a sigh. "You're my good girl, aren't you? Always so good for me." He purred, feeling how fast her heartbeat became under the weight of his seductive words. He'd gently rub her inner thighs, before parting her legs and letting his hands claim what was his Swallowing every cry that would come out of her mouth not longer after, as she writhed on his lap in orgasmic spasms.

Send requests for drabbles with Tommy Shelby! I'm sitting down to "Taste of shame" today along with some new pieces.

Keep em COMING!

Big Bad Wolf & Little Lamb: Lesson 1. (C.M)

Synopsis: You met Maeve, your best friend, in College and over the years you have become two peas in a pod. Maeve decided to invite you back to her hometown in Ireland for the summer break and that’s where you met her dad, Cillian.

Warnings: EXPLICIT CONTENT AHEAD. Age Gap, (all legal of age), Corruption kink, Innocent! reader, Cillian’s massive tease, Sex, Oral Sex, Fingering, Cillian teaches the reader EVERYTHING. Virgin! Reader, inexperienced! Reader

Chapter warnings: sexual corruption, innocent reader, age gap, dom/sub, masturbation, voyeurism, sudden panty sniffing?

Disclaimer: THIS IS FICTION AND IT IS NOT REAL LIFE.

A/N: Cillian looks like Lenny Miller in this fic!

.

After months of planning, Maeve finally convinced me to come visit her countryside hometown during the summer break. As I stepped off the plane, the fresh Irish air filled my lungs, and the friendly smiles of the folks at the airport greeted me. Maeve was waiting for me outside, and she looked more radiant than ever in the warm Irish sunshine.

"You made it!" she exclaimed, throwing her arms around me in a tight, familiar hug. I laughed, returning the embrace, and then we picked up my bags and made our way towards her car. As we drove out of the airport, the familiar countryside views and winding roads brought a sense of tranquility and anticipation for the adventure ahead.

Maeve chatted excitedly about all the things she wanted to show me – the breathtaking coastlines, charming villages, local festivals and hidden gems. Her enthusiasm was infectious, and I couldn't help but feel a thrill of anticipation for the adventures ahead.

As we drove, Maeve filled me in on her family situation. "You'll love my dad," she enthused. "His name's Cillian – he's a bit of a character, but he's a total softie at heart. My parents are divorced, so it's just the two of us."

“Is he a scary person?” I asked quietly. I don’t deal with strangers too well, and I am not exactly a friendly person. Not because I don’t want to, it is because I am socially anxious. When me and Maeve first met, she was the one who came up to me to pair for a group assignment. “I don’t want to bother him, that’s all”

Maeve chuckled, noticing the slight hint of trepidation on my face. "Don't worry," she said. "My dad's a sweetheart, I promise. He might seem intimidating at first – he's a big, well not really in height but in size, burly Irishman – but he's the gentlest person you'll ever meet."

“I hope he likes me, so we can stay friends” Maeve suddenly pinched my cheeks as I flushed at the gesture.

“Why are you such a cutie, Y/N!”

“I’m not!”

"Oh, he'll love you," Maeve reassured me, patting my knee. "He's always excited to meet my friends. Just be yourself, and you'll win him over in no time."

As we approached Maeve's home, I could feel my heart hammering in my chest. Meeting a friend's parent was always a nerve-wracking experience, and the fact that it was Maeve's dad – a man she clearly loved and respected – made it all the more intimidating.

“Why do I feel like I’m meeting your dad to have his permission to marry you” Maeve burst out laughing as she nodded in agreement. There was really nothing to be afraid off, but since I was a generally anxious, I couldn’t help it.

Maeve must have sensed my nerves because she squeezed my hand reassuringly. "You got this," she murmured, as we walked up the cobblestone pathway towards the front door.

Taking a deep breath, I pushed open the door and stepped into the cozy, welcoming home of Maeve's childhood. The sound of a friendly dog barking greeted us from the other room, and a moment later, an imposing figure strode into the hallway.

As Cillian stepped into the hallway to greet us, I couldn't help but internally gasp at his sheer presence. He was beautiful, with broad shoulders and a rugged, masculine air about him. His eyes were a light, piercing blue, and his dark hair was speckled with flecks of silver.

"Hello there, you must be Y/N," He said, his voice deep and gravelly. He smiled warmly, and I noticed the lines at the corners of his eyes, hinting at years of laughter and experience. “Maeve told me a lot about you, I’m pleased to have you here, love. Make yourself at home”

I felt shivers ran down my spine the minute I heard him talk, his voice was deep and smooth just like how you would feel drinking an expensive espresso if that’s how I could describe it. It’s a stupid comparison to say the least, but it is true.

I couldn’t even meet his eyes to greet him back, but I didn’t want to seem rude so I quickly glanced at him and for some reason bowed slightly, as I quietly replied, “Nice to meet you, Sir”

Cillian chuckled at my timid response, the sound rumbling deep in his chest like distant thunder. "No need to be nervous, lassie," he said, his accent thick and lilting. "I don't bite."

Maeve laughed as she gently nudged me, I stayed quiet still, “Sorry dad, she’s generally like this”

“It’s alright” I heard him respond. I didn’t know how to describe it but someone I can feel his gaze burning holes into me, as if he was studying me from the top of my head until the bottoms of my feet, “Well, why don’t both of you settle in. Maeve, get the darling settled into the guest bedroom, will you”

Maeve excitedly pulls me upstairs, as I followed her. However, I felt like I needed to take a last glance at Cillian and when I looked back,

He was already looking right at me.

My heart pounded in my chest as I quickly averted my gaze from him, running along with Maeve. Cillian on the other hand, I couldn’t read his expression. He wasn’t smiling, nor did he looked angry. He just stared at me with this look on his face that I couldn’t exactly describe.

“How old is your dad?” I asked, curious of his age since his appearance looks quite youthful for his age.

“He is 47, why?” Maeve replied absentmindedly, helping me unpacked all of my clothes and putting them in the closet.

“Nothing, I’m just curious” I muttered, as I joined her.

Maeve suddenly stopped what she was doing, “You don’t have a crush on my dad now, do you?” She pointed out, accusingly.

My eyes widened as I violently shook my head, “No! What are you talking about?!”

“Okay good, I trust you” I raised my brows at her, “It’s just that most of my friends fancies him, that’s all. The most disgusting thing is they keep trying to make advances towards my dad. I don’t know what they see in him, ugh” Maeve cringed as her whole body shook as if she was shuddering.

“N-No, you know I would never do that to you” In someways, saying that seemed wrong.

“I know. Out of all my friends you are the only ‘good’ ones and I’m pretty sure you won’t try to fuck my dad”

“That’s crazy, Maeve. Did any of your friends tried to do that?”

“Trust me, most of them do. But whenever they do, my dad just tells me to never invite them over again” I nodded, not replying anything to her story.

Of course, I wouldn’t do that to Maeve. Hell, I wouldn’t even touch any men with a ten-foot pole. Not that I’ve had anyone taking their interest in me, I was mostly too focused on my studies to even notice. All my life, it had always been about studying and succeeding and it wasn’t even because of peer pressure from my family, it’s just because I really enjoyed it.

So even if somebody liked me, I wouldn’t want to do anything with it.

.

After a few hours of catching up, the house grew quiet as night fell outside. I laid in bed for a while, but eventually, my thirst got the better of me. Quietly, I got up and crept downstairs, not wanting to wake anyone.

The house was silent as I padded down the stairs and into the kitchen, flicking on the light.

As I poured myself a glass of water, I heard a faint shuffling sound from another room. Curiosity getting the better of me, I turned to see a dim light coming from the living room. Peering through the door, I saw Cillian sitting in an armchair, nursing a glass of whiskey.

He looked up, seeing me standing in the doorway. A small smile tugged at the corners of his lips. "Having trouble sleeping?" he asked, his voice a soft rumble in the quiet room.

I blushed, feeling a little embarrassed at being caught. "Just got thirsty," I said, holding up my water glass sheepishly.

I was just about to turn and go back upstairs, but Cillian's voice halted me. "Come sit for a spell," he said, gesturing to the armchair opposite his. "It's lonely drinking alone."

I wanted to reject his offer but it would have seemed rude and I didn’t want to make that impression of being Maeve’s best friend.

I hesitated for a moment, feeling a mix of shyness and curiosity. Finally, I padded into the room, settling into the armchair across from Cillian. The light from the side lamp cast a warm glow on his features, making them look even more rugged and handsome.

Cillian took a slow sip of his whiskey, studying me from across the room. "So, Y/N, tell me about yourself," he said, leaning back in his chair. His gaze was intense, but not unkind.

“Um... There’s not really much to talk about... I’m not an interesting person” For some reason, speaking to him made my voice slower, as if I was scared of him. But I wasn’t, I was merely nervous about his presence.

“I think you are... Maeve told me you’re a great student” Cillian imposed, “She told me about how good you are in school”

My eyes widened slightly, “So basically Maeve told you I’m a nerd?” I groaned quietly, there was a small part of me that wanted him to think I was cool which was pathetic.

Cillian chuckled, shaking his head, “I’m not sure being a nerd is a bad thing, love. I think it’s great” He smirked.

There it is again, the pet names. The pet names made me feel butterflies in my tummy like a stupid school girl who has a crush on their teacher.

“It just means you are dedicated to your studies and I admire that, I’m glad Maeve became friends with someone like you” I muttered a silent ‘thanks’ at his statement but I didn't really know what to say afterward. There was a deafening silence between the two of us, I just sat in front of him quietly as I kept drinking my water. I was looking at the fireplace as if it were the most interesting thing in the world. However, the hairs on the back of my neck kept standing up because I knew Cillian was staring at me intently, his gaze never breaking from my figure.

There he goes again, looking at me as if he was studying me.

“Are you scared of me, darling?” Cillian broke the silence, making you jump slightly when you heard his voice. “You won’t even look me in the eyes”

I blushed heavily, caught off guard by his direct question. I had been trying to avoid looking directly at him, feeling intimidated by his intense gaze. I stammered a bit before finally meeting his eyes.

"I'm sorry," I said, my voice sounding small in the quiet room. "I don't mean to be rude, it's just... you're kind of intimidating."

“Am I, now?” I nodded in response, still not looking at him. “Look at me while you are talking to me before I make you”

I felt a shiver run down my spine at the change in his tone. I looked up to meet his gaze, my heart beat quickening. His eyes seemed to pierce through me, their deep blue hue holding me captive.

“There you go, darlin’,” Cillian said, his voice softer now. “It’s not so hard, is it?” He took another sip of his whiskey, studying me over the rim of his glass.

“No,” I muttered, unable to look away from his piercing gaze. “It’s just...you’re so intense." My voice was barely above a whisper.

Cillian hummed, “You know, the previous girls Maeve brought home they weren’t so scared of me”

I blinked, surprised by his comment. "They weren't?" I asked, feeling a pang of self-consciousness. "Is it a bad thing that I am slightly intimidated by you?”

“No...” For some reason, Cillian had stood up from his armchair, walking towards me with the whiskey glass still in his hands. Cillian walked over to the empty side of the sofa I was sitting in and took a seat. With every step he took, I could feel my heart beating faster and faster.

I couldn't help but feel a flutter of nervousness as he approached me, his large form seeming even more imposing in the intimate space of the living room. He settled in beside me on the sofa, his thigh mere inches from mine.

I could feel his warmth radiating from his body, and the scent of his cologne filled my senses. I tried to remain calm, taking slow, deep breaths to steady my racing heart.

“Every time she brought them over, I felt like throwing them out. It seems like their parents don’t teach them...” He paused before taking a sip of his whiskey, “...Manners”

I felt a lump form in my throat, feeling a mix of shame and fear. I knew I hadn't been very good at hiding my timid behavior, and now it seemed like I was being called out for it.

"I...I'm sorry," I mumbled, still unable to tear my gaze away from his intense eyes. "I'll try to be better."

“Such a good girl, aren’t you?” He muttered, my face burned even hotter at his words. I was used to being called ‘good’ by my parents or my teachers, but coming from Cillian’s mouth, it sounded different, deeper, and more intimate.

I fidgeted slightly under his gaze, feeling both flustered and strangely drawn to him.

"Thanks..." I murmured, not quite sure how to respond. I took a sip of my forgotten water, trying to hide my shaky hands. The silence stretched out between us, and I could feel Cillian’s gaze still on me, studying me intently.

"You're different from the other girls Maeve brought home," he said suddenly, his voice seeming to echo through the quiet room. "I can see it in your eyes, you've got a hint of...timidity."

I felt embarrassed at his accurate observation, but there was something else in his tone that made me shiver. Was it mockery, or was there a hint of something different? I couldn't quite tell.

I nodded slowly, not trusting myself to speak. I could feel his gaze on me, like a physical weight against my skin. I fidgeted with the hem of my t-shirt, feeling strangely out of sorts.

"There's nothing wrong with a little bit of timidity," he said, his voice a low rumble. “But a girl like you...you'll need someone to bring you out of your shell, teach you how to be brave.”

“What do you mean by that Sir?” I suddenly got curious. Cillian took a deep breath, realizing how innocent I was.

‘How can you not know what he was trying to do?’ He thought to himself.

“Call me Cillian for now my love, save the honorifics somewhere else, yeah?” Cillian was hinting at me but of course, I didn’t know the context of his words. “I’m sure you can call me, Sir... Sometime in the future”

“What do you mean?” I repeated the same question again, it seemed like Cillian was speaking words with double meanings that I could just not understand.

“If you keep calling me that, I might do something that I’ve been dying to do since you walked into my house, pet”

I felt my cheeks flush at his words. I had never called anyone 'Sir' before, but something in the way Cillian said it made me shiver. I felt torn between my natural nervous nature and a strange, unexpected curiosity at the thought of submitting to him.

“O-Okay, I’m sorry Cillian...”

“How are you such a good girl, hmm? You listen to everything I say”

I felt a flutter of flattery at his words, and a small part of me liked the way ‘good girl’ sounded coming from his mouth.

"I try to be... respectful," I mumbled, feeling a bit self-conscious. "It's how my parents raised me, I guess."

Cillian chuckled softly, the sound sending a shiver down my spine. "Your parents raised you well," he said, his eyes never leaving me. "They taught you how to listen, how to behave. But have they ever taught you how to be disobedient?"

“N-No... I never had to”

Cillian hummed in acknowledgement, the corners of his lips twitching into a small smirk. "That's what I thought," he murmured, his voice low and gravelly. "You've always done what you're told, haven't you, darlin'? Never questioned it, not even for a second?"

I nodded, feeling a bit bashful under his intense gaze. "I...I guess so..." I mumbled, fidgeting with my fingers. "I don't like making waves. It's just...easier to follow the rules, you know?"

Cillian chuckled, the sound sending a shiver down my spine once again. "You're a rule-follower," he said, his tone almost amused. "You always do what you're told, never rock the boat, yeah? But deep down, darlin', don't you ever wonder what it would be like to be a little... mischievous?"

As he said that, I noticed he sat closer and closer to me. His arms rested on the back of the sofa and I felt myself getting smaller. I gripped the glass in my hands tightly as I decided to set it on the coffee table before I actually break it.

I felt myself becoming increasingly aware of my own small, trembling form. It was like I was being swallowed up by Cillian's presence, his large frame dominating the space between us. I fidgeted with the hem of my t-shirt, trying to keep my hands from shaking too visibly.

“I-I don’t know... I’ve never had the thought of it I guess...” I responded as he smirked.

“Tell me now, do you have a boyfriend?”

“No, I’ve never had one” I felt my heart skip a beat at his question. It was such a personal, direct question, and coming from Cillian's mouth, it felt oddly intimate. I blushed heavily and shook my head, feeling a mix of shyness and... something else I couldn't quite identify.

"No boyfriend, huh?" he murmured, his voice a low rumble. "A pretty thing like you, I'm surprised." He shifted slightly, his body moving even closer to mine on the sofa, “That’s good”

Cillian’s hand suddenly went up to my neck as he brushed over the loose strand of hair that fell on my shoulder, his fingers lingered on my skin as it tingled and sent shivers down my spine.

“C-Cillian?” I gasped as his hand brushed against my neck, my skin tingling at his touch. His fingers lingered on my bare skin, igniting a strange sensation that sent shivers down my spine. I suddenly felt very conscious of our proximity, his body so close to mine on the sofa.

“Have you ever touched your pussy, sweetheart?” At that moment, my heart dropped at the sudden vulgarity that he had. It was such a crude word, crass, anything to describe how bad it sounded coming out of his mouth. I was speechless and I couldn’t even focus on what to say since Cillian's hand still lingered on my neck as he leaned closer, his voice dropping to a low, gravelly whisper. “You like that, darlin’?” he murmured, his breath hot against my ear. “Feel that... shiver running down your spine? Your skin’s already got goosebumps, yeah? I can see them. All over your neck, your arms…even your chest”

It was a feeling I had never felt before in my life. Something coiling deep in my gut as I felt myself clenching my thighs due to my... Private parts... Pulsating, at his words, his voice, everything about him.

Cillian looked down as he scoffed, noticing how my thighs kept clenching, his hands lowered down to my thighs as he tried keeping them apart. I did nothing to stop him.

Deep down, I knew how wrong it was for my best friend’s father to be touching me like this. But I couldn’t help it, I felt scared and maybe... Maybe I liked it. But I was scared of what he was going to do if I imposed, we were already in too deep and I felt like there’s nothing I can do.

However, there is. I could’ve stopped it... I just didn’t want to.

“Answer my question and be a good girl. Have you ever touched your pretty little pussy, darling?” I whimpered silently as his fingers began to roam closer to my inner thighs. I clamped his hand after feeling an unfamiliar gush of wetness flowing out of my core, “Keep your fucking legs open, alright?”

Cillian growled and I immediately spread my legs wider than before, “That’s a good girl” His voice turned soft once again. “Now, what did I ask you?”

“I’ve never touched myself... Down there, before...” I closed my eyes, breathing heavily as I felt like the feeling in my core was starting to become more and more painful.

Cillian hummed deeply, his fingers growing dangerously closer and closer to my pussy, and the next thing I knew, his hands completely touched my pussy over my shorts. Instinctively, I grabbed his wrist to stop him.

“What if Maeve finds out?”

“She sleeps like a log, the world could be ending and she won’t even wake up” Cillian muttered, pulling my hand off of his wrist, “I won’t tell if you won’t... I know how much of a good girl you are and you promise me you would keep those pretty little mouths shut?”

I simply nodded. I don’t know what possessed me to be so obedient to whatever was happening. Normally, I would have run away catching the next flight home, and never returned. However, Cillian was making me desperate, desperate to know what was going to happen next.

“I’m going to take off these cute shorts, alright?” I nodded once again, listening to everything he said as if I was under a spell. He took off my shorts as he pushed my legs apart. He was greeted with a sight, so wet, my underwear was soaked and I didn’t even realize it, “Pretty little thing...”

His index finger softly tapped the pulsating tiny bump, as I jolted in his grasp. I whimpered, raising my hips, asking for more.

“Such a fucking desperate slut” He groaned as he continued to rub circles on my clit, at this point I was writhing underneath him, my underwear getting wetter and wetter by the second. I would usually be offended if someone had called me such a degrading name but coming from him, it only made me want more, “Lean on me”

Cillian had instructed me to lean on his chest, my back close to him as he had his arms around me.

“I’m gonna teach you something, baby” I blushed at the new pet name he came up with, “I’m gonna teach you to touch yourself and I want to see you do it”

“O-Okay...” Cillian took my right hand and placed it on my sopping cunt, he pointed out my index finger as he slowly starts to rub circles on my clit. I whimpered almost too loudly as my left hand immediately covered my mouth. “C-Cillian! It feels nice!”

“I know, pet... Just keep doing it yeah, you’re gonna feel better once you cum” He encouraged, his eyes never leaving my writhing figure above him. I could feel something hard poking at the low of my back, it was hot and throbbing. “Fuck, so fucking pretty. The prettiest I have ever seen”

I was too focused on touching myself, drowning myself in the sensation to notice Cillian had my underwear in his left hand, burying his nose in the center as he took in the sweet and musky scent, his tongue darting out to taste the juice that previously leaked out to the material.

“Put a finger in and ram it inside, the faster you do it the better it feels” Cillian demanded, as if he was getting impatient, he took my finger once again directed it to my entrance, and shoved it in.

I was no longer whimpering, I was now moaning so loud I didn’t even care anymore. Cillian didn’t give me time to adjust, he just completely rammed it in and out at a fast pace that I couldn’t even catch up, he was doing it all on his own but with my own fingers.

“C-Cillian! I feel funny, please! Please, stop! I feel like I’m going to pee!” Cillian scoffed at the statement, he knew I was close to cumming but I didn’t know that. Instead, he taunted me, going even faster if it was even possible. He then placed his left hand on my lower tummy and pressed down hard. “No! No! No! Stop!”

“Cum. Fucking cum right now!” As if on queue, I cummed all over his hands, liquid gushing out of my hole rapidly as I cried out, the feeling of my first orgasm overwhelming me. Something I have never felt before. My whole body shook and twitched violently above him as I cried out, feeling tears of pleasure well up in my eyes. “That’s a good fucking girl, such a good girl for me...”

On my lower behind I felt a wet spot, indicating Cillian had also come undone in his pants. Cillian was as shocked as you because no woman could make him cum without touching him.

“You’re going to be the death of me” Cillian cursed as his fingers dipped into your entrance and I jolted in shock and overstimulation. His fingers went up to his mouth as he sucked all of the juices seeping out of my throbbing cunt, “Fucking delicious”

“C-Cillian... I can’t walk...” He laughed deeply, as he swiftly carried me and stood up from the couch.

“I’ll get my princess nice and clean, yeah?”

As he walked up towards my guest bedroom, carrying me without a problem, I could feel my thighs shaking as an aftermath.

“Cillian, are you gonna do those things to me again?” I stared at him with watery eyes, all fucked out from before, hopefully asking him.

“I’m gonna do more than that, sweetheart” Cillian paused as he opened the bedroom door, he placed me on top of the bed as hovered over my body, “I’m gonna fucking ruin you”

Feel free to find out in part two, that will be posted today!

JUST ANOTHER OF YOUR MISTAKES

Thomas Shelby x Reader

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

This fic will have two parts!

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

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

PART ONE

~~

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But he didn't.

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

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

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

~~

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

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

One so empty, that gave her goosebumps.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

***

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

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

Letting out a sigh, she put her hands together.

”Be careful, dear.”

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

”Always”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

”Y/N?” Polly stumbled out in shock.

Fuck

Part two upcoming

Can't wait so badly

The Balls in Our Courts-TommyxOFCxFinn

Pairing: Tommy ShelbyxOFC(Amelia)xFinn Warnings: Please read all of the warning in the tags on Ao3 and pinned post. Underaged themes, abuse-all kinds, sexual themes, time period attitudes and language. Dark!Tommy 100%. Summary:"You see, Amelia," Tommy Shelby said, leaning on his desk, cigarette between his index and thumb. "I own everything under this roof...including you. I always have and always will." Amelia swallowed, her fists clenching in anger. "You made money off of me for years and you've given me nothing!" "I've given you everything you deserved, Amelia." At 15, Amelia Clarke officially exhausted her parents attempts at creating a perfect daughter, and so they shipped her off to England in hopes an old business partner could whip her into shape. Where others saw a nuisance, Tommy saw an opportunity to add to his growing assets. Bad at manners, but exceptional at tennis, Amelia became one of Tommy Shelby's biggest financial gains, and he would do anything to protect it.

This fanfic is on a short hiatus until I freshen up the outline and do some editing. :) Don't worry, I am not abandoning this fanfic. This was the first fanfic I wrote for Peaky Blinders and it is, honestly, my ride or die. <3 Just please be patient.

Links: ->Ao3 ->Wattpad

->Introduction Moodboard ->Character Moodboard ->Drabble 1 ->Drabble 2 ->Drabble 3 ->Drabble 4

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 🎁🎄