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aliypop · 1 year

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Back To Black: Chapter 6

latest chapters : Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5

Word Count: 9.436

Writers Notes: Here we are Chapter 6 topping off season 5 and kicking into gear of season 6,

Warning: Show violence and language Suggestive themes, Smut

Pairing: OC x Canon

( Eleanor Williams ) / Thomas Shelby

(Claudette Williams) / Finn Shelby

(Virginia Williams) / Ada Shelby

Plot: What happens When the Williams Family makes their grand return back to London from a war stricken France to only find the rocks of war and the runts of crime the Shelby family slowly leaking into their world,

Taglist: @shelbydelrey

1929-The Connolly Mansion

"I'm sorry, what..." Eleanor blinked as Claudette and Finn smiled, "We're getting married, Eleanor," she smiled, holding Finn's hand,

"We were waitin for you two to finally do this..." Lorcan mumbled under his breath, "Where will the Wedding be and how many people, and who's staying in what rooms and-"

"We'll go to Westerham Heights, beautiful scenery, and it's traditional," Bernadette stated as Polly agreed, "I haven't been in years," she took a puff of her cigarette, "Why Westerham fucking Heights..." Arthur growled, "Why not Johnny Dogs camp or somethin... or like a church." Ada had hit him in the head, "Be fuckin respectful..." she grumbled as Virginia laughed, "Yeah, Arthur, be respectful." her head was on Ada's shoulders, "This just makes the deal stronger," Tommy looked over at Eleanor, "Joined by name, joined by family." Eleanor smiled, "I'm happy for you two. I really am," she walked out of the dining room, the sound of silent sniffles following suit,

"Darling..."

"Darling? since when did you start calling 'er darlin?" Julian asked as Arthur interjected, "You must really like her. The last time he called a girl darlin was in France."

"First off, Arthur fuck off," he walked out,

Eleanor was sitting on the steps, those same ones she had left out of Tommy's life with. Taking the sleeves of Tommy's sweater that she now claimed, she wiped her tears away, plastering a smile,

"You okay, sweetheart?"

"Don't worry about me."

"Eh, that makes me worry more about you." Tommy sat by her side, pulling her close to his side, her head in his lap, "It was just yesterday that we brought Claudette home from the God Awful Hilda orphanage... and we took her to France, put her in the best schools our money could buy, me taking care of her like I was a mother, Andre and I would... keep her calm from the sounds of war and Virginia." she laughed, "Would tell jokes, and now She's getting married, probably gonna start a family and-"

"You wish it was you, don't ya," Tommy asked as she nodded. Deep down, he knew how she felt, Finn, who barely even had a bit of an example of a positive relationship. Yet managed to strike gold on his first attempt, but Tommy, there was Grace and The countess, Tatiana if he could even consider her as anything, Jessie Eden, and Lizzie he really married to smooth things out with the Luca situation and their daughter Ruby, none of them really saw Tommy, not the one who's laugh could brighten the skies of Birmingham, or dance the night away at any club, they only knew Thomas Shelby and his many titles and mask, but Eleanor saw through every last one of them.

"You know Eleanor I... Loved you the day we first met." she giggled as he smiled, "At the club?" she asked as Tommy shook his head, "The party with Chaplin."

"Mr. Shelby, I didn't think they'd let you in." Eleanor chuckled to herself, watching the way it made him squirm.

"Didn't think they'd let you in either."

"Oh, darling, my father put this little event together." she smiled, "A daddy's girl I should've known." he quipped,

"A man who's just a scared little boy giving schoolhouse taunts," she mentioned taking a glass of champagne from the wait staff,

"Are you Williams always this flashy."

"Flashy... Oh, I forgot you wouldn't understand you're still new money," she said, watching Grace dance with Andre. If only Andre liked women, the two would've been such a lovely pair.

"And you forget you're talking to Tommy fucking Shelby."

"Such big words for a rather small feeling man," setting her glass down, she took Thomas by the hand, taking him to the middle of the dance floor. Grace had her eyes on the pair, watching as if she had daggers in her eyes. Of course, Eleanor loved it, and it only provoked her more to get under Tommy's skin,

"Well, Eleanor..."

"It's Ms. Williams."

"Well, Ms. Williams, If I were you, I'd keep a close eye on your sister." he whispered into her ear, "And I'd keep a closer eye on the company you keep."

"Mr. Chaplin, have you met Eleanor Williams," Andre asked, placing his arm around her shoulder. His glance was on a man who resembled the one in front of him, "Oh, excuse me, Thomas Shelby, is it." Andre asked as Grace stood next to him,

"I suppose you want her back."

"I'm sorry for how I was that night," Eleanor laughed as Tommy chuckled, "Were you..." he smirked, kissing her nose, "Not really, I was jealous of Grace a little, " she blushed, embarrassed to say it, "I wanted to impress, you, I guess," Eleanor laughed as Tommy shook his head, "You threw the fuckin party,"

"My father did," she corrected, "Either way, you weren't scared of me," Tommy smiled, "Sure, Finn and Claudette 'Ill get married, but in due time fate will play its cards, and maybe we will too."

Westerham Heights

"Who's dress is this anyways?" Claudette asked as Bernadette and Vadoma helped her get dressed, "It was your mothers..." Bernadette said,

"If it's hers, I don't want it..." Vadoma's heart sank as Bernadette sighed, "It's not hers, Claudi, it's..."

"It's mine," Vadoma said, "I'm your mother..." Vadoma smiled.

"No, my mother was that monster who shot me in the back..."

"Leslie was not your mother," Bernadette sighed, "Why are you telling me now..." Claudette asked as the two looked at the bride to be, "It was supposed to be on your 16th birthday, but when Louis died and Eleanor gone, I-"

"You couldn't tell me!" she shouted, backing away from them, "You couldn't fucking say hey, your mothers alive, and she tells fortunes!" she laughed, "So it's let's wait on the day I finally find happiness !"

"Claudette Hilda Dupont! You listen to me well..." Vadoma demanded her attention as Claudette faced her, "First off, you will respect your aunt do you hear me!" her voice filled with anger,

"Yes..." Vadoma grabbed her face making sure their gaze met, "Yes, what..." Claudette looked into her eyes. She felt a presence that Claudette hadn't known, not even with Leslie. She felt the aura of a mother, her mother, "Yes, M'am..."

"Just know that every day when you were away from me, I prayed that you were okay, you were watched over and loved," she held her face,

"Then why'd you give me up..."

"I wanted the best for you. I wanted you to have the life my father deprived me of that your aunt got to live." she smiled, "And you did. I'm witnessing my daughter get married. Oh, if only your father were here to see it."

"I...I have a..."

"Go put your shoes on."

Almost as if fate itself knocking on the door of Vadoma's Caravan was, "James!" spinning Vadoma around, as he kissed her, "James, Where's my hug..." Bernadette smiled as he hugged her tightly, "I've been good, treating patients in America and running numbers the usual." he smiled, "I didn't think you'd make it," Vadoma kissed him again, his mustache tickling her face,

"You'd think I'd miss this?"

"How do I look..." white lace trailed down behind her, covered in pearls and gold jewelry on her neck. James had shed a tear, "You look just like your mama did in that dress back in 1901." he held Vadoma's hand,

"Ya know I knew it..." Johnny said as Eleanor looked at him,

"Knew what?" she sassed,

"You was one of us,"

"And how so..." she asked, "Is it the bones?"

"Those earrings ya like wearin so much." he laughed, "It's also the bones." he joked. Eleanor stood next to her aunt's Caravan, smoking her cigarette and watching how everyone was reacting, "Yeah, my Aunt's the wonderful Vadoma, prophecies and all that jazz." she chuckled. Ada had worn black, still mourning the loss of the father of her unborn child, and Virginia was still right by her side, Karl standing next to Ada, the two holding hands. On the other side were Polly and her husband, Aberama, who looked to be in love. Of course, Arthur had been a little drunk, and Isaiah had been flirting with a few of the women, but then there was Tommy walking in with Lizzie and Ruby and,

"AUNTIE ELLIE!" the young boy ran up to her as she hugged him tightly, "Charlie, you've grown so big and so handsome," she ruffled up his hair,

"Did you get my birthday gift?"

"Mhmm, It's a mouse."

"Not just any, it's Mickey Mouse, from Walt himself." she bopped his nose, "Thank you." he gave her another hug,

"Charlie! Charlie?" Lizzie shouted until she saw him,

"I'm so sorry he doesn't usually run off-"

"Lizzie, it's fine. I haven't seen my God son in a while anyways, and is that little Ruby," she asked as Ruby waved. She was a shy little thing but still ferocious like her daddy.

"Can we talk..."

"Oh, uh, of course..." Eleanor nodded,

"Charlie, Ruby, go find your father," Lizzie said as the two began to walk off, "What's troubling you..." she asked, "It's Tommy..." her heart sank. She hoped it wasn't about something she had done,

" Is he okay..."

"It's his usual..." she sighed, "I caught him trying to shoot himself in the field before we arrived, and lately, he talks about you when he's not talking about Grace," she smiled, "I mean, shit if I were a man I'd talk about you too, you're gorgeous." Lizzie smiled as Eleanor laughed, "So are you,"

"But, I don't know if I can do it anymore..." she sighed, "With him and Mosely and the business, I rarely see Thomas, that love and lust we had is fading and-"

"You want to divorce him..." she asked, as Lizzie nodded, "I haven't told him, but I've been seeing someone for some time, and, "

"You want to move on,"

"Yeah, I think you two would make the sweetest pair, and I don't say that to too many women who come in contact with my Tommy, but..."

"Nora, Dette needs ya!" Virginia shouted

"Shit, Lizzie, hold that thought!"

"I want Eleanor and Tommy to walk me if that's okay," Claudette asked. Vadoma and James nodded, "I don't want to upset ya,"

"Came as soon as Virginia told me. Who the hell is that?" Eleanor pointed towards James, "That's your uncle, it's a long story, now where's Thom-"

"Right here, " Thomas smiled on the other side of her, "Vadoma, James," he nodded, taking Claudette's hand. He was more nervous for her than she was, but in his mind, it was practice for Ruby,

"Do you think this dress is okay?"

"It's fine Claudette..." Eleanor said, walking her down where everyone was,"

"You could be wearin rags, and Finn would still marry you." Tommy added, "He's right," Eleanor shrugged,

"Just breathe and-" Finn turned to see her as butterflies gathered in his stomach. She was his beautiful spring bride, and he couldn't wait to share his life with her. Watching her walk down the aisle was like an angel floating from heaven toward him. Lifting up her veil, he had wanted to kiss her at that very moment in due time as the Ceremony took place. Eleanor and Tommy kept stealing glances at each other. Both Lizzie and Polly took notice. Maybe she was right. They did belong together, but only time would tell that.

A few months later, they had been gathered around the same place, a burning Caravan holding the body of Polly in it. The Shelby and Williams families gathered around, paying their respects. Of course, this marked the end of an era, but at what cost. The danger was afoot, and Eleanor could sense it. Things would fall about soon. She just wondered for who.

1934 Arrow house

"Does it ever stop hurting..." Lizzie asked Eleanor in between sniffles, "No, you just make room for it..." she hugged her. Eleanor didn't know what it meant to lose a child, let alone imagine that aching pain, yet here they were gathered at Arrow house, mourning the loss of Ruby, or at least those who had wished to join,

"Have you eaten anything at least, Lizzie..."

"I'm not hungry..."

"You know I didn't eat anything when I got wind my father died. I nearly starved for three days." she laughed a little,

"Elle, you didn't..."

"I did until I remembered they would much love for you to live life than join them before it's your time." handing her a cloth from her purse to wipe her eyes. All around them, there was a circle of death, life, and rebirth. Across from Eleanor sat Claudette and Finn and their three-year-old daughter Serena who'd been taking a nap on the couch, and Arthur, who, as hard as he'd been failing, was trying his best to lead a life of recovery.

"Charlie won't leave her room, and Tommy... well, he just wants revenge and-" she took a deep breath,

"Cry if you need to," Eleanor said, rubbing her back,

"Ada, what's wrong..." Virginia asked as Ada held Elizabeth's hand. Ada gave her the cold shoulder, "So we're back to that now..." she groaned, the two standing near the food. As usual, things had been rocky since Ben's death. Ada would stop by the brothel, service one of the women there, and if Virginia was lucky, she might look her way. But today, she was through with it all.

"Ada Shelby, you look at me right now!" the room fell silent, all attention on the two,

"I don't have the energy to argue with you..." Ada tried to walk off as Virginia got on one knee,

"Then don't argue.... say yes?" Virginia asked, her fedora hat on her chest,

"Are you fuckin serious right now..."

"I am..." Virginia smiled, "I would give up everything for you. I'd die for you. I'd leave my girls, anything to know you're by my side for the rest of my life." Ada shook her head, a bit shocked as to what was happening. Another Williams in the family, Eleanor had thought to herself,

"What do you say..."

"FUCK IT, SHE SAYS YES!

"Arthur, I can speak for myself..." she rolled her eyes, Virginia still kneeling down,

"Will you commit to me..."

"I will..."

"Then you have yourself a wife..."

Westerham Heights

It had only been a month, and they all were gathered after a funeral amongst themselves at a wedding. Tommy had been running late due to some business with Mosely, Eleanor, Lizzie, and Claudette were helping Ada with her dress, "Do you think Pol would be proud?" Ada asked

"I think she'd say, finally, you two ran off and tied the knot," Lizzie commented as Claudette chuckled,

"It'd be more like you two fucking did it finally," Claudette chuckled, pointing her cigarette like Polly. Eleanor fixed the veil,

"Elle, what do you think she'd say..." Lizzie asked,

"Elle..."

"Get down!" Her gun pointed at the head of,

"Don't shoot!"

"Andre..." she growled as he collapsed right in front of her,

"Andre!"

"What the fuck just happened, " Lizzie asked,

"Claudette, get your father now!"

Laying on Vadoma's bed was Andre. He had a few cuts, bruises, and dried blood covered in his clothes, almost smelling like death had grabbed him. James loomed over him, cleaning his cuts, stitching him back together as the wedding outside took place,

"Is he okay?

"Looks like a hit gone wrong..." James said,

"Could've been..." Eleanor responded it wasn't that she was being stand-offish. She couldn't imagine her older brother dead after seeing so many caravan burnings. It was a matter of time before who would be next,

"We'll leave you two alone..." Eleanor gave her aunt and uncle a nod as she sat by the door,

"Andre, if you can hear me..." she took a breath, "I want you to know you caused this family great pain.

"Your stupid fucking decisions led you to a greedy path..." she laughed, "A dark path, and for what a life so many who grew up like us could wish for, huh..." she snarled, "Our sister's wedding, and you decided to show your face," she growled,

"I outta-"

"You... didn't... need... me," Andre spoke, his mouth a little dry as he struggled to sit up, "Andy..." she sat by his side as she used to when she was little, "I did this... so you could rise to power..." he coughed,

"You nearly gave up our business,"

"But you made it stronger..."

"You had Luca after us."

"And you defeated him..."

"You partnered with Luca and Leslie..."

"And Claudette took her down..."

"You shot Virginia." she pointed her gun at his head, "Don't siblings fight..." he asked as she growled, "You betrayed this family endless times, and you expect me to appreciate that..." her hand shaking as her eyes watered, "You expect me to hug you and welcome you! You couldn't even stand up for me... you let your hatred get in the way. Your fucking greed gets in the way!" she shouted, "AND I HAVE TO ALWAYS CLEAN UP YOUR SHIT, SINCE 190 FUCKING 1."

"Nora, I'm sorr-"

"YOU DON'T GET TO FUCKING SAY SORRY, YOU DON'T GET TO MAKE CHOICES FOR ME ANYMORE, YOU DON'T-"

BLAM!

"Eleanor..." Tommy ran toward the Caravan as he heard gunfire. Andre was holding his waist, blood on his hands. Eleanor gave him a look at him and gave him a nod. Taking Tommy's hand, she then left out.

"We're even now..."

"Do I want to know..."

"I just want to go home, Tommy..." she laughed,

"I could take you to London."

"Take me to Moss Side," Eleanor smiled,

"Moss Side? You grew up in fucking Moss Side?" he blinked, "I wouldn't even step foot in Ardwick, and I have." he glanced at her as she shrugged,

"Are we going or not?"

Moss Side Manchester

There it was, the bustle of streets and the slight smell of horse shit, it wasn't much, but to Eleanor, this was home, with pubs almost on every corner and a brothel on every other street. The cotton factories blowing smoke into the air, she was a child again, and for once, she was happy, happier than he'd ever seen her,

"I'd take Birmingham over this any day..."

"Scared, Mr. Shelby?" she teased as Tommy laughed. He'd be lying if he said he wasn't, "What's so fucking scary about Moss Side." Tommy winked, his nose scrunching up a little at the stench. It was a cute look if Eleanor had to be honest with herself about it,

"Come on, Birmingham, you can take the stench of horse shite," leading the way to the Claremont pub. The two walked across the street, some kids playing, others making mischief, and some making the best of where they lived,

Inside the pub was little hints of furnishings of the Victorian era, still as cozy as she remembered it to be when she had to fetch her father out from late nights.

"Sorry to mither ya, but aren'tcha Louis's girl?" the barmaid had said, "Yeah, I am. Who's askin?" If Tommy hadn't been in love with her before, he was now,

"It's me, Trudy,"

"Trudy Chapman... Fuckin Trudy!" she gasped, "Oh, now I'm buzzin'!" Eleanor smiled. Trudy and Eleanor had been best friends since they shared a crust of a sandwich together in school,

"How's ya muva still the same..."

"She's still a bit snide, but nevertheless still luvley." Eleanor chuckled. Something about her accent drove Tommy insane. Maybe it was because it wasn't like the posh ones he'd hear every day in the parliament or the fact all this time how he thought she was a Londoner when really she was a girl from the north and west of Birmingham,

"Well, Ellie, I 'eard you was, engaged. Is that so?" Eleanor began to fiddle with her hand, a melancholy look on her face. If Tommy hadn't known, better he would say she'd have started crying, "It is," he interjected, holding her hand, "It is?" Eleanor looked at him, his blue eyes looking to the side of Trudy, telling her to play along,

"It is! This is my Fiance, Mr. Thomas Shelby?"

"Thomas Shelby, like the fuckin politician and Peaky..."

"That would be me." he tipped the peak of his cap,

"Oh, he's sound and 'Andsome." Trudy chuckled,

"Well, can I get you two, Owt?"

"We're just gaggin' for a brew," Eleanor said, her head on Tommy's shoulder,

" A brew at a pub?"

"He doesn't drink Whiskey anymore," she whispered, watching as Trudy walked away, "You didn't have to do that, you know..." she smiled. Tommy shrugged his shoulders, "I rather you smile than cry." he held her close.

"So you really grew up here, love."

"Right down that street, ova there," Eleanor pointed, "If we were lucky, we could beat the scuttlers before school. Usually, Andre got 'is ass 'anded to 'im ova there, but that's what sisters are for." she sighed, mentioning his name,

"No, there will be no frownin around me, do you hear."

"Tommy..."

"I mean it. There's been enough fuckin sadness going on, " Tommy looked at her. Tommy was right, and he knew that when he returned home, Tommy would have to face Mosely, Jack, and his annoying niece Gina, for right now, Tommy Shelby was with the woman beside him, "Mista Sadness tellin me to be cheery 'uh." she sassed as he laced his fingers with hers, "Yeah I am..." his blue eyes filled with admiration,

"What's wrong wif you,"

"Your accent."

"What ya don't like it?" she pulled away from him as he laughed,

"Don't having a benny on me."

"A what..." she looked at him, a bit confused,

"He means a strop." Trudy smiled, setting both tea cups down, "I run into a few Brummies, including this cute one." Trudy grinned, "You don't say maybe Tommy knows 'em?" Eleanor said, adding sugar to her tea. Both Trudy and Eleanor watched Thomas fix his tea,

"We don't all know each other."

"Oy, you're gonna be drinkin sugar with hits of brew in it, huh," Trudy commented, taking the sugar slowly from Tommy, "And, you're right, maybe he doesn't know 'im," she sighed,

"I mean, he's from Small Heath an-"

"I might know him..." Eleanor laughed at his quick reaction, then back at Trudy's,

"What's he look like?"

"Well, he's tall, luves boxin, similar eyes like yours and-"

"Arthur Shelby?" Eleanor blinked, "You fancy Arthur?"

"What's so funny..."

"That's my older brother," Tommy said as Trudy gasped, "He's the most beautiful thin I ever seen." her brown cheeks had a soft red hue, "Is he seein anyone?" she asked, "I'd love to meet him... Again... maybe naked," she smirked, "Could think of some fun thins he and I could-" Tommy cleared his throat as Eleanor chuckled,

"Never change, Trudy."

As the night went on, Eleanor was by Tommy's side, the two walking the streets and chatting until they were standing in an alleyway, one she knew all too well. A shiver went down her spine. Tommy noticed how her once strong demeanor grew stiff and weak. She could hear ringing in her ear and a taste of blood in her mouth. Suddenly it was 1902, and she was 12 years old, trembling in her mother's arms, hearing the loud blaring noise of a gun firing off. She felt empty like time stood still, and it was now catching up to her,

"The Alleyway that gave me the name The Pearl..." she swallowed, then laughed,

"You don't have to walk down it," Tommy said.

Eleanor turned her face to look at him, "I do..." she smiled, looking back down the dark alley, "I can't free myself if I don't. I can't forgive him if I don't." Tommy only gave her a nod, knowing she knew what was best for her,

"I'm coming with you."

"You-"

"I've let you in. Just this once, let me in." Tommy asked. The two began to walk down the alley, the moon peeping through.

"So why do they call ya the pearl?"

"Innocence and modesty ironically lost those at a young age, " she took a deep breath, "I was deemed as something everyone wanted, and everyone wants pearls," she laughed. The sound was a bit melancholic. Tommy took hold of her hand, listening to her,

"But I called myself the pearl because I wanted to be untouchable..." she sighed, "To never feel that way again. Never be touched that way again,"

"Did you ever feel that way again?"

"Not when I was with you. I always want you touchin me," Eleanor giggled, the last flame of the street lamp flickering, "Or kissin me, holdin me even, but anybody else gets fuckin shot." he nodded, waiting for her to notice that they made it out the alleyway. "Seems you did it, darlin," kissing her cheek, "I did..." she hugged him. Tommy hugged her back, not wanting to let her go. He felt sorry for what she had to go through, but he knew either way, she was still the strong woman he knew that London feared. Looking back at her old home, she then took a step back towards Thomas,

"Should we head to Small Heath?" Eleanor asked?

"Thought you'd never ask."

Small Heath

Eleanor had driven the first few minutes back to Birmingham until she grew tired, and Tommy offered to finish the entire way, so now there was Thomas Shelby with his favorite woman wearing his overcoat like a blanket with her head pressed forward on the window, yet he was still alone with his thoughts, about introducing his son he'd found with Esme's help, and the slight fact Tommy may or may not be dying, or that his love for Lizzie was fizzing out faster than a pop, but nothing mattered when he saw her relaxed state in that seat,

"Tom... I think I may be in love with you..." Eleanor laughed, her vibrant brown eyes glassy and wide, trying not to fall asleep, "What makes you say that, love." His eyes on the road, the quiet sounds of nature as their music, "Well, I trust ya more than anyone. You're in my dreams. I see us 'avin a big family an," she yawned, "No matter 'ow much you piss me off, I can't leave ya..."

"I'm not going anywhere either," he reassured her,

"Good, c-cause you're me, best friend." she laughed, her eyes slowly closing as she curled into the heat of his coat, his scent soothing her,

"I thought Trudy was Your best friend?"

"Trudy's second, an you're first now." her sleepy smile made his heart race. It was something he'd want to see on snowy days in London when the roads were icy. And the horses would be kept warm. They could spend the day in bed with her looking at him the way she was right now as he'd hold her on his chest, and they'd sleep the day away, no troubles, no worries, just them.

"Don't smile at me like that."

"Like what.." she looked at him, batting her heavy-lidded eyelashes at him,

"Like that,"

"Or what?"

"You're gonna make me marry ya." she smiled again as she looked up at him, "Is that proposal me, beloved?"

"Could be..."

It had been an hour once they made it to Watery Lane with the lights still on and the Shelby headquarters and family home. As the door swung open, there stood Lizzie, whose face had anger riddled all over it,

"Where the fuck have you been, Thomas..." turning to see his wife. Eleanor held onto him, her heels in hand as she was wrapped up his coat, "We left the weddin an went to Moss Side got some brew for tea, an, went down an old ginnel an we 'ere?"

"What the hell is she saying..."

"We went for a cuppa for tea and went down an alley, " she translated herself,

"What were you doing in fucking Moss Side of all places. Rather you two go to Ardwick,"

"She's a manc,"

"A very tired Manc from Moss Side," Eleanor said. Lizzie then ushered the two in, rolling her eyes playfully at her husband, "Thomas, could we talk..." pulling him aside, "What's wrong..." something in the pit of his stomach told him this wasn't going to be good, after all, she'd already heard the news about him and Diana, she wouldn't shut her mouth about it during dinner, sure he had his affairs and flings for a distraction but, really since the death of Ruby things hadn't been the same and she knew they never would,

"I want a divorce,"

"If that's what you want, then we'll get one." he sighed, running his fingers through his hair,

"I'll take Charles with me, and we'll be out of your hair." she smiled,

"Where is my happy ending..." Tommy asked, trying to hold back his tears, he did love Lizzie, but he knew deep down she deserved more than to be there because of a child they no longer had, "She's in the kitchen with Arthur," Lizzie smiled,

"I know about you and Eleanor, and I get it. Really I do. She's gorgeous, she understands you more than I ever could, you two share something special, and she can talk you down. I feel like I only bring you down, dear." her thumb on Tommy's face wiping away a tear from his cheek, "Please, Tommy, smile for me..." she kissed his nose, "Worst-case scenario, we just simply weren't meant."

Eleanor's heart shattered for Tommy and Lizzie as she heard from the kitchen what was being said. Claudette and Finn passing her bandages to help clean up Arthur from another binge and fight,

"What's wrong with ya?"

"I'm fine, Mr. Shelby..." Eleanor said

"Nah, you ain't. I 'ere it in your fuckin voice."

"He's right.." Finn said, "You don't sound happy?" both Eleanor and Arthur glared at the couple as Claudette gulped, "I hear Serena crying... come along, handsome," pulling him away,

"Did I mess up something good..."

"You... no, if anything, Tommy almost missed somethin good," Arthur said, "Around you, he's happier, less of a pain in the ass, if you will," placing a cloth to his forehead and cleaning blood off it, "You're kind, but not easy to fuck with, you don't scare easy, hell if Tommy wasn't into ya I'd be, but don't tell 'em that." Eleanor blushed as she hugged him, a huff of pain leaving his lips,

"Thanks, Mr. Shelby..."

"Call me Arthur,"

"Alright, Artie,"

"You're pushin your luck there," he said as she laughed, pulling away as she was about to leave the kitchen, "Can I be honest with ya?"

"Of course, I think you should forgive your brother. A brother is the only person you can trust, who won't betray ya," he commented,

"Did you..."

"He saved me life."

"Eleanor Williams, can we talk?" Tommy said, coming into the kitchen, "Full name must be in trouble, huh," Arthur mumbled, "Of course, sliding the door to the betting den. The two walked to his office, "Look, Thomas, I can leave if you'd like. I'm terribly sorry for any pain I caused or-." Sitting on his desk, Tommy kissed her passionately. He wanted her to be as close to him as possible, his hands wrapped around her waist, looking at him in shock, "Lizzie was right..."

"About what?"

"You and I,"

"Thomas Michael Shelby, where is this going..."

"Well, Eleanor Vadoma Williams, I'm marrying you."

"With what fucking ring Thomas," she asked, pulling out the garnet ring. This time, it was different, cut like a pear with the pearls of her mother's ring adorning it, "When did you..."

"The night you gave it back."

"What would Aunt Pol say to this..."

"It's about fucking time you two got married." Ada said, her wife draped around her waist, "She's right. I've been tired of your weepin about not marrying this man, so in this case, she says yes."

"I can speak for meself..." Eleanor said,

"Then what do you say."

"Yes, I'll marry you." she nodded. She remembered what Lizzie told her at Finn's wedding, and maybe this was what fate had in store for her, besides one must never look a gifted horse in the mouth,

"Who's getting married now..." Lorcan grumbled as Julian smirked, "I believe it's those two."

"Finally..." Lizzie smiled,

London

Heels clicked down the hall as Eleanor held flowers in her hand. Tommy had sent off to Canada again to go meet Michael. It bought her some time to take in Arthur's words. He was right. There was nothing like having a brother. And when she thought about it, Andre was all she had now that Louis had been gone for so long. Here she was, giving him the cold shoulder. Opening the door of his hospital room sat Bernadette,

"How's he doing?"

"He's currently doing his exercises." Bernadette responded, "Oh, good. Well, I have news-"

"Mother, you're here." Andre smiled, "And you as well, Ellie," he glanced at her. Eleanor felt small, but she still felt like what she did was right,

"Yeah, I wanted to apologize for shootin ya,"

"No, you responded the way I wanted you to."

"What?" she blinked,

"It was a test." Bernadette smirked, "A test for what?" she questioned as Andre laughed, "To see if you could handle the heat of the company," both of their expressions serious, "You betrayed the family..." she growled, "I did... and you handled every test while in the states amazingly." he laughed, "Even the last one,"

"And you were in on this," turning to Bernadette, who gave her a nod, "Your father and his uncles did the same thing to him and to Andre and now Andre to you," she said, "You not only knew I was alive, but you managed to save the company from my shit,"

"How'd you..."

"I might have partnered up with Lorcan and the Lee family."

"But I thought you disliked The Shelby family,"

"Well, one Lorcan is a Lee. He's a half-brother, he's an artist, and he's-"

"He's what... your type?" she asked as Andre rolled his eyes, "He was a good spy, is all," Bernadette laughed at her son, his face and ears red, "Might be another Romani wedding, I see..." she commented as Eleanor cleared her throat, "Speaking of weddings, "Tommy and I are engaged..." the room fell silent Andre laughed, "You and the Shelby guy, I mean it makes sense, you two are stubborn two peas in a pod, but I respect his design in a ring." he held her hand looking at it, he'd known those pearls anywhere they were Bernadette's pearls from her ring, and they accented Eleanor well,

"Is it going to be a traditional wedding?"

"Well, we were thinking of a Romani wedding and a reception, maybe," she looked at her mother,

"And who's walking you down?"

"Maybe Virginia." Andre cleared his throat as Eleanor gave him a smile, "Fine, you can walk me down, but don't go tryin to shoot Tommy, besides I've been told to forgive you," she stuck her tongue out at him as if they were children again,

"Is that an apology? I hear..."

"Oh, why don't you do one." she shoved him,

"Oi, you two behave yerselves!" Bernadette commanded, her Irish accent peaking out from the heap of posh she hid it under,

"Sorry..."

As the week progressed, Eleanor and the rest of The Shelby women took it amongst themselves to go wedding shopping for something borrowed, blue, new, and even old. One of the maids had come downstairs with a chess, a lock on the front of it, "Do you think it's a dead body in it?" Claudette asked as Ada and Virginia nudged her,

"Why would I be gifted a dead body..."

"Remember who you're marrying," Lizzie said, laughing as Eleanor chuckled, "I doubt that would be sent to me here," she stated. Bernadette and Vadoma walked in as she took the key from the young woman unlocking the box. In it was an old dress that seemed to have dated back to the 1880s, along with a veil, pearls, and shoes. It was the entire wedding set, "I saved this for you," handing her the dress,

"How'd you know,"

"Vadoma."

" I read her palms," she smiled,

"Aunt Pol read mine too!" Claudette gasped as Virginia laughed, "It's kinda a traditional thing," Ada whispered as Lizzie nodded, "Speaking of tradition, go try the dress on?"

"Are you sure?"

"You gotta see if it fits, no?" Vadoma rushed her out, dress in hand,

"Well..."

"You look gorgeous..." Ada blushed,

"Tommy is going to love it..."

"I think you look alright?" Virginia commented, "I mean, nothing beats my Ada in her dress," she kissed her wife as Lizzie laughed, "If you were a man, I think Ada would be pregnant with baby number 6," Claudette mumbled under her breath. Eleanor then took a twirl in her dress, a wash of joy spreading over her as it sunk in. She was getting married. It was finally happening. Small sobs left her mother's mouth, happier than her own daughter that she had finally found true love,

"How's the shoes fit?"

"They're low to my liking, but I love them." Eleanor giggled, "I feel like royalty, honestly."

"Technically, you will be," Vadoma smirked, "He comes from Royalty?"

"Wait, what?" Lizzie blinked,

"It's Romani royalty," Ada added,

"Oh..."

"It makes him a very sound man, to be fair, and it still counts Lizzie," Virginia commented,

Westerham Heights

"Two weddings months apart, eh," Tommy laughed, standing in front of Eleanor's Caravan, another surprise she didn't expect to see, let alone know about. Inside it was things she mostly thought were gone, like old toys, jewelry, pictures, letters, and even her favorite teddy bear, "I think it's sweet, actually," she smiled as Bernadette laced up the dress. She was wearing earrings that Lizzie bought her as a gift, a bracelet borrowed from Ada, Virginia's blue tie pin holding her veil in place,

"You know you could be naked, and I'd still marry you,"

"Tommy! don't be Angin in front of my mother. She can hear you,"

"Sorry Mrs, Williams..."

"Pretend I'm not her, why don't you." she shook her head, "Just don't make me a grandmother too quickly,"

"Can't make any promises," Eleanor mumbled, feeling the weight of gold on her neck, "You know I would've been fine married in a more comfortable dress or somethin," her mother's eyes glaring her down as she groaned,

"But traditions, fine too..."

"Ay, we're startin any minute," Julian announced, the two brothers walking away from the Caravan,

"You nervous, Tommy?"

"Nah, I think I'm sure I got it right this time," he smiled, fixing his brother's hat, "I was thinking of settlin down eventually. Don't know with who yet, but..." Julian smiled, "I want a legacy like you,"

"First try not to get shot at so much," he joked,

"I can try,"

"Good, I can't lose another brother,"

"Am I late?" a brown skin woman said, running down wearing a fur wrap and a gold-colored dress, a bit of cleavage hanging out, her hair was in tight curls, and her makeup a bit heavy. She was still beautiful, running a bit more her heel had gotten stuck in a soft patch of soft grass, "Shit... shit... shit..." she groaned, "I'm gonna be late, an Elle's not gonna forgive me, an-" as she nearly fell onto her face a pair of hands caught her,

"Need help there, love?" his accent was just as thick as she remembered when he crossed the bridge and landed in her pub. "I'd like that a lot. I was tryin to leg it, an I got a bit into trouble," she laughed,

"Always fucking soft patches of grass, eh,"

"Innit somethin," she smiled as Arthur winked,

"'Ere hold on to me," helping her out the grass as the two fell over, "I'm so sorry!" looking into his blue eyes as he gazed into her grey-colored ones,

"Clumsy, ain'tcha," he joked.

"I can be unless I'm carryin a fine brew or beer." she looked at him, "You look like you know a thin or two about a good whiskey?"

"You'd be fuckin right," pulling out a cigarette and taking a lighter from her purse, she lit it for him,

"Related to the bride?"

"No, I'm 'er childhood friend Trudy Chapman," she smiled,

"Arthur Shelby,"

"Got a plus one, Mr. Shelby?

"Came alone"

"Not anymore," she winked at him, linking her arm with his own,

"Is that Trudy Chapman..." Andre asked, walking down Eleanor, "Mhmm..." she smiled from the last time they had a wedding at the camp. She didn't remember the walk being this long. But Eleanor also didn't care, for this time she was walking to get to Tommy and to start a life with him, one that would be challenging and fulfillment of wonder, "You look pretty in the dress..." he said, trying to make small talk, "So when are you gonna marry Lorcan?" she teased, " Elle, that could never happen," he kept walking her down, "You know I waited for this day to happen, just didn't think you'd marry a Shelby." he laughed,

"Andre..."

"Hear me out. Once I met Arthur, then saw how Claudette was happy and Virginia committed to something, I realized, you need someone to beat you at your own game, and that's Thomas," he sighed,

"I may not trust him, but if you like him, then I'll be cordial towards him and his rat family of crime,"

"They're our family too,"

"No, your family," he laughed,

Standing behind Tommy was his beautiful bride tapping him on the shoulder. He turned to face her. He'd never seen a woman so beautiful except for maybe the ones in the paintings. Andre then lifted up her veil as he gave her away with a kiss on the cheek. Taking his hand. Eleanor was growing deeper in love with him,

"If it were up to me, you wouldn't be in that dress for long,"

" Tommy, God's watching." she smiled.

Standing before them were Vadoma and Johnny Dogs. Who was holding a ribbon,

Placing both of their palms out, Vadoma took a knife cutting each as she dipped a slice of bread in both of their blood,

"You two will both eat the bread and become one." without hesitation, they both ate the bread, joyous laughter escaping their lips,

"John, the ribbon, please?" Vadoma asked as he nodded, "Congratulations, Mr. and Mrs. Shelby," he smirked,

"You two are now united by blood as one."Tommy kissed her, their foreheads resting against each other. Cheers and tears were heard through the crowd as Eleanor giggled,

"We're married,"

"We're fucking married," he kissed her again

The Pearl

"You know I wouldn't think you'd want your reception at the club..." Andre said, watching his sister drink, "We figured it was big enough for all of us. Tommy's getting rid of his house, and it's a beautiful place in any way," she shrugged, wearing a white gown fabric draping down her back.

"Alright, who ordered the old fashion, an a bottle of Gin?" Trudy asked. Arthur came up to the bar taking the bottle from her, "Careful with that one. It's got a strong kick to it," he commented as she leaned closer towards him, "That makes two of us," the band playing slowly in the background, Arthur smirked, he hadn't had a woman who oozed sex appeal in awhile, yet also innocence, she was a nice mix of what he was missing in life,

"You, me, the cellar?"

"Are ya askin or commanding,"

"I'm fuckin tellin ya,"

"Yes, sir..."

"I think we should head home," Claudette said, Serena on her shoulder, "What if we.. leave her with Ada and Virgina and have our own fun," Finn smirked, pulling her closer. Claudette could only laugh at her husband and his boy-like charm, "Finn..." she said, a bit flustered, "Yes, Mrs. Shelby," he kissed her lips as she kissed back," I guess we could start on that big family you want so bad," Claudette said as she then saw her sister-in-law, "So where are you two going to honeymoon to," Andre continued to ask, her eyes were on Tommy, something about him in the suit she had tailored for him with his glasses in his mouth was setting her ablaze. "Excuse me for a second," she ignored her brother. Tommy had been talking to a few guests, knowing that he only had a reception for the press and his so-called image,

"Mr. Shelby, may I steal you for a while," she glanced over as she saw Diana and Mosley, the sight of them making her sick, "When I said to move up in the world, I didn't mean with the likes of -,"

"The renowned Jazz singer who has several charities?" she commented, looking them both up and down. Tommy looked down at the short frame of his wife as he held her near," Congratulations on your engagement. Now if you'll excuse us," Tommy began to walk away, the two scoffing at the newlywed couple,

"The world will never accept you, Thomas,"

"They already don't," snapping her finger, Andre came running, signally for Lorcan to escort them out,

"And where are you two going?"

"To get into some trouble,"

"I should have known," Bernadette smiled, kissing her son-in-law on the cheek, "Think you can keep shop while we're away for a bit? Tommy asked,

"This is my shop, sweetheart," smoking her cigarette as she looked at him,

"Have you packed your bags?"

"Yes, mother,"

"Fed the horses,"

"Yes, mother,"

"Said goodbye to everyone?"

"Yes, mother,"

"Have you had Vdoma check for rain?"

"Of course, " she lied,

The Gray Camp

Sitting next to Thomas was Eleanor, the two venturing out to the great wilderness on his Caravan, no destination insight except for where fate was taking them. Resting her head on his shoulder, she took in his scent as she listened to the sounds around her, "Peaceful..."

"Just us, no business," he kissed her forehead, "I'll teach ya how to hunt, and we'll live off what we can find an-"

BOOM!

The strong sound of thunder shook the ground, and the two grabbed their guns, ready to shoot anyone coming for them. A drop of rain had hit Eleanor on the forehead, and suddenly she'd wished she had Vadoma check the weather.

"It's not that ..."

"Don't finish that sentence," the rain began to pour harder as she laughed, "It's not that bad. We'll set up camp here, under the stars, the moon is beautiful, and I get to be with you," she gave him a quick peck on the cheek, "Alone..." she then kissed his nose, "In the rain," kissing his ear, "With my husband," Tommy pulled her in for a deep kiss, her hands resting on his chest, his around her waist, "Tommy..." she moaned out, his lips on her neck, her skin heating up by his touch, "Yes darlin?" his blue eyes looking up at her, glints of moonlight caught in them, "Why don't we move this to bed?" she rasped feeling him nibble at her neck, picking her Tommy carried her over the threshold of his Caravan. The two laughed at the irony of the traditional significance. Tommy then put her down as she pinned him against the wall, "We're doing this again, love?" he smirked as she winked, "Figured why not. It's been our thing since we first met," she leaned in, licking his bottom lip as he groaned, Tommy knew that he'd still be in charge, but for tonight Tommy would let his wife take the reigns, pulling her hair Tommy couldn't resist attacking her neck in kisses and hickey's after hearing her gasp, Eleanor was driving him insane by the noises she made, but Tommy didn't want to pounce just yet, after all, it was their wedding night, and it was meant to be a special one, pulling away, he spun her around, Eleanor now with her back towards the wall, and her arms dropping over Tommy's back,

"Why don't you strip for me, aye,"

"Why don't you do it for me..." Eleanor whispered, biting at his earlobe as he nearly folded by the action. As Eleanor continued, Tommy finally found the zipper on her dress, watching the fabric fall off her body. He still was in disbelief that the woman before him was his wife, "What's wrong?"

"Admiring art," he stared his irises blown as he'd just seen a painting come to life. Sitting on the bed, Eleanor unclasped her bra, her legs crossed, dropping the garment, "Why don't you give your wife a show," she beckoned him over. Tommy laughed as she smiled that beautiful smile he'd hoped wouldn't tarnish anytime soon, "You want a show, I'll give ya one," unbuttoning his waistcoat as it joined the pile of clothes on the floor, Eleanor had her bottom lip between her teeth with just how slow he was going, she knew he was teasing her, but she was dying in agony waiting for him to strip.

" You're cute when you're concentratin," Eleanor giggled, helping him with his pants,

"Then I must be always cute to you," he winked as she shook her head rolling her eyes, "You're a fucking flirt, you know," Eleanor laughed, taking him by the arm as he loomed overtop of her,

"How'd you know I love fucking," He winked as she laughed hard, "Tommy, shut up and fuck me," kissing the tears welling in her eyes as she was still stuck on his horribly funny joke. This is what he wanted his married life to be like, laughter and a connection between two souls searching for so much more than just love,

"Needy are we,"

"Have been since we met," she whispered, tracing the shape of his war tattoo on his chest. Tommy kissed down the middle of her breast, his hand massaging her perked nipple as his mouth focused on the other, swirling his tongue around the budded skin. He could hear her breath hitch, almost as if she were afraid to let out a moan. Switching to the other, Eleanor couldn't help but snake her hands in his hair, eyes fluttering at the ever-so-long sensation,

"You alright up there."

"Mhmm," she nodded, "Don't stop,"

"Wasn't going to," trailing his hand further down to the hem of her underwear, another gasp as she groaned at his teasingly slow movements. Sliding his fingers between her folds, he noticed her body twitch and how soaking wet she was just from the little he had already done. Sliding off the garment, Eleanor felt the cool spring breeze hit her sensitive bud. Pumping his fingers slowly into her, he couldn't help but watch how her back arched or the curses leaving her lips, "Tommy ... faster," she whined, her voice breathy, "I thought I was in charge here," he commented picking up the pace of his fingering as she growled, a high pitched moan following suit, Tommy then leaned in close lapping at her glistening, wet slick, biting at her bud, her legs wrapped around his face tugging at his dark locks, "Don't waste any o- FUCK that's it!" her body shaking harshly her climax approaching faster than she'd thought it to be, Tommy didn't want to come up for air, but he didn't want her to cum just yet either, taking his finger he collected her arousal on his finger licking it clean off,

"I want to taste me on your lips..." she breathed hard, catching her breath as she brought him closer. The taste was sweet on her tongue. It was euphoric, but now it was her turn to taste him. Pulling away from the kiss, Tommy groaned until he saw his bride in front of him on her knees,

"You sure about this, sweetheart,"

"I want to taste you, all of you," her hands on his thighs, those eyes he admired becoming more jaded with lust, "Then don't waste a single fucking drop..." Writhing in pleasure as her mouth was at the base of his cock, it was no surprise that Thomas Shelby was girthy and endowed with a nice size. It showed how he carried himself, "Right there, fuck..." his eyes closed, grunts and groans for his beautiful lover. Tommy was getting close, and she could feel it from how he'd been twitching, trying a trick of the tongue on him. He came oozing out like melted ice cream, "Did I waste anything?" she asked, her mouth open, "Not a single drop," kissing her forehead and then her lips. This was definitely something he could get used to, maybe even wake up to her pretty lip wrapped around his "You're thinkin about somethin, aren't cha?" her accent getting thicker,

"No, I..."

"Tommy, let your heart do the thinkin, relax..." coming behind him as she kissed his neck, his muscles no longer tense. She could see the stress piling up in his eyes, pushing him down. Eleanor straddled him, her hands on his shoulders. From the look she was giving him, Tommy knew what she was about to do next. Sinking down on his cock he noticed how her nose crinkled up, adjusting to the sting of the stretching, "Breathe through your nose," rubbing circles on her back, "I can take the pain," closing her eyes as she was down to the hilt of him,

"I wouldn't have married ya if you coul- Eleanor Fuck!" he moaned, feeling the slight movement of her hips,

"That's what I Ah! thought..." swaying her hips forward, picking up her pace, her heading falling back, she could feel his hand holding her steady, the sound of skin on skin and heaving breathing could be heard as the rain from the outside only poured down harder,

"Right there! Don't st-aph!" fingers pulling his hair,

"You feel so fucking amazing," Tommy whispered in her ear, lost in his moans. Eleanor was gripping him as if she didn't want to let him go. Pulsating and twitching, Tommy poured into her until he was nearly spent,

Laying there panting, Tommy turned to kiss his wife, sloppy and a bit lazy, grabbing her closer to him, limbs pressing together, "That ... may have been the best sex I ever had," Rolling over to his side of the bed, Eleanor only laughed pulling him back into the kiss tracing patterns in his skin, "There's a difference between sex and love," she corrected him feeling his lips trail up and down her skin, the moonlight shining through the window illuminating her skin cuddling close her head resting on his chest listening to his heartbeat,

"Eleanor Vadoma Shelby, will you marry me..."

"We're already married, but I'd do it again in a heartbeat," she giggled, hearing Tommy yawn. His eyelids were growing heavy, but he'd be damned if he was the first to fall asleep,

" I think if we had a son, I'd want to name him Louis... or John after your brother." Tommy ran his fingers through her hair, the soothing rain relaxing him, "A son, aye?" he smiled, "Yes, a son, and he'd have your eyes. He'd be kind, a mean streak in him. I just know it," she laughed, Tommy liked the sound of that,

"Darling, don't you think it's too soon. We did just-"

"It only takes one time, " cutting him off as he laughed,

Christmas 1940-The Connolly Mansion

"Louis, why are you covered in mud,"

"John, have you got punch on your shirt already,"

"Where's Esmeralda..."

"Charlie, have you seen Priscilla?" Eleanor asked, "She's in the library," he said, watching Eleanor race up the steps, "Someone's in a hurry," Tommy said, his arms around his wife's waist, her red velvet dress pressed against his suit, stealing a kiss he bit her lip as she moaned, "We could sneak off you and me..."

"That's how we got four children." she whispered, "Besides, it's Christmas, and we have guests an-"

CRASH!

"Serena did it!" was all Tommy and Eleanor heard, groaning, knowing whatever it was that was broken could be replaced, "Priscilla threw the ball! "

"Priscilla Bernadette Elizabeth Shelby!" Tommy calmly shouted, "Do we still have time to sneak off?"

#peaky blinders #peaky blinders ocs #tommy shelby fanfic #tommy shelby x oc #poc oc #peaky oc #eleanor williams #New Chapter #last chapter #peaky blinders fanfic #fanfiction #1920s #netflix fanfic

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feninina · 8 months

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𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐝𝐨𝐭𝐞 ༉‧₊˚.⁀➷

therapist! jonathan crane x female reader.

𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆: when your father decided that you needed therapy, taking you to his dear friend dr. crane to treat and help you, you thought it wouldn't work at all, but it turned out to be everything you needed.

𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀: SMUT(minors dni!!), noncon/dubcon, depression, cursing, crane is a mysoginistic prick, using therapy for unhinged reasons, smut, hair pulling, jonathan just being an creep, choking AND strangulation, dacryphilia, hitting, unprotected sex (safe sex its great sex!!), breeding kink, forced breeding, power dynamics, i think crane should be a warning himself, reader being borderline stupid and naive. also this has a lot of backstory i’m so sorry i got carried away lol.

𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁: 7.1K

𝗮𝘂𝘁𝗵𝗼𝗿’𝘀 𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗲: omg my first fic on here!! this is also my first work on english and my first smut ever so i apologise in advance for any mistake!! i hope y'all enjoy it anyways ahahahaha live laugh love jonathan crane👏🏻 feedback its very appreciated so i can improve and continue to publish better works, anyways enjoyyyy 💓

𝘀𝗺𝘂𝘁 𝘂𝗻𝗱𝗲𝗿 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗰𝘂𝘁

It was awkward, to say the least.

You were sitting across from Doctor Crane in the couch at your dad's house, legs crossed as you watched him write on his clipboard, something about it making you feel anxious, a little nauseous, even.

This wasn't your first session, you started doing this four months ago, not long after your divorce that caused you to fall into a spiral of sadness and misery. Your failed— and short marriage was the main reason you started taking therapy with your dad's friend, the chief of Arkham, Jonathan Crane, and still, you couldn't bring yourself to talk about it.

He was patient, you told him several times that he was a saint. Regardless, before you started with the sessions, he explained to your dad that he didn't really do this; therapy really wasn't his strong suit, but for a friend, a desperate one, he would gladly do it.

Your dad came to him, offering a big stack of money if he would talk to his little girl, make her recover her once joyful personality, like you had one to begin with. Jonathan really couldn't say no, and not really because of the money, he had other reasons in mind, unethical reasons.

And there you were now. You were quick to open up to him, eager to talk, to be listened and he, on the other hand, was ready to listen, to give you advice, console you and help you get through the sorrow that was following you since you were young, playing the role of your knight in shinning armor.

"I can't believe you don't actually do this" you said once, sniffling your nose with a handkerchief he gave you as he examined you with a warm gaze, an empathetic grin on his face. "You're really helping me"

Jonathan was quick to wave his hand and tell you that it wasn't a big deal, that he was just doing his job, and if you weren't so innocent, so stupid, you would have noticed the mischievous sparkle that flickered in his eyes for a split second.

You were landing right in the palm of his hand.

Not even thirty minutes into the first session you told him everything about your past; every little thing you thought he needed to know to treat you. And you were slightly right; he did need to know those things, but not to treat you, just to manipulate you and mold your little brain into what he was envisioning for you and your future together.

Truth was, you hated everything about your life, regardless of the fact that you had everything. That's what you've been told since you were a child; a big house, a lot of money, maids taking care of you so you wouldn't have to move a finger and just sit pretty and relax inside the walls of the huge mansion that confined you since you could recall.

You have everything. That was bullshit.

Sometimes, you couldn't help but think that people told you that out of pity, like they knew how miserable you felt, but not daring to say a word about it. Your dad was a powerful man, and you were aware of that, ever since you were born, he had bussines with Falcone and you knew that people feared him, he practically ruled Gotham, that lifeless and dangerous city that you had to live in.

You have everything. You were tired of that sentence. You didn't care at all about these nice things surrounding you, those dresses in your closet, those diamonds in your jeweler, that fancy car you owned since your eighteenth birthday, no, that was useless in your eyes, because all you really wanted, was love.

It was a lonely life; you learned how to do everything by yourself, how to comb your hair, how to deal with your period when it first came, how to dress up properly and do your makeup. You didn't even had to learn about boy problems because there weren't any boys in your life, you were homeschooled. So you were quiet, not really having to talk at all, there was nobody to talk to.

And since Jonathan was the only person you were talking to at the moment, you started to feel like you loved him, the idea sitting right with you without you even knowing it, thinking that this was how therapy normally went.

Loneliness striked your life at a young age; your mother died from a strange disease when you were eight, leaving you with a shattered heart thad bled everytime you walked past her bedroom, or saw a picture of her. You practically watched her die, a witness of how she lost her strength, how her once beautiful skin turned pale and yellow, and lost every little spark within herself, and the worst part was that all the money you had, couldn't even help her.

It was a deep wound that you carried with yourself, with nobody to talk about it.

Your father spent his days locked up in his office, and when he wasn't there, he was out in the city doing unthinkable things that you didn't even wanted to know about, leaving you on your own, having to fill all of those silent and empty rooms by yourself, with nobody to laugh with, nobody to hold you and see you grow. He wasn't really around, working all the time, too busy to know that his daughter didn't seem to care about all the expensive stuff he bought for her, not even taking the time to have dinner with you or hold a simple conversation. He loved you, you knew that, he just wasn't the type to show his affection with words or actions, but with gifts. And you hated everything about it.

But now, Jonathan was there, making you feel listened, finally saving you from falling into loneliness again. Your whole life, you thought you had a horrible sickness, that you were doomed to this awful destiny of sorrow and silence, but now, with his sweet words and good company, you couldn't be more than relieved.

You wished sometimes that you met him earlier, that this whole therapy stuff started before, and you even confessed it to him. And it irked him a little, that you didn't even remember how you two really met each other, hiding his annoyance with a warm smile.

Some months ago, your father started to brought you to parties he attended, parties were all the corrupts scumbags from Gotham reunited and celebrated how they were dragging the city to the gates of hell on their benefit, and you couldn't be more happy to attend them. You knew he was bringing you because he recently broke up with the young girl he carried with him— that was most likely your age, and needed a pretty thing to hang of his arm and take care of the people he didn't feel like talking to.

So you accepted this new life, eating up this role of socialite like it was made for you.

It was a chance to know people, to speak and make new friends, but you learned quickly that those people weren't there for that, and picked up on how mostly of the people who talked to you just wanted to climb up the social ladder and gain some extra points from your father.

He, even, introduced you to a couple of people that seemed close to your age, and you chatted with them, feeling extremely anxious because you weren't used to this, so it was weird to them seeing such a pretty woman, with your status and fortune, acting so shy and quiet in a place that your dad practically owned.

After a couple of hours, you learned the agenda. All you had to do was put on a fake smile, get them off your father's shoulders and pretend you were very interested in what they had to say, hiding your uncomfortable expression behind your glass of champagne, promising them that you would arrange a reunion with your father someday.

One of those nights, your father introduced you to someone, someone who you didn't pay much attention because he seemed to be uninterested too, only being there for the sake of his job.

"Pretty girl, come here" your father said, a cheerful tone of voice as grabbed you by the shoulder to get your attention, snapping you out of your train of thoughts. "I want you to meet my friend, Doctor Crane"

You looked at the man in front of your dad, his pale blue eyes already sizing you up discretely, looking at you up and down in a way that didn't go unnoticed by you, a shiver running down your spine as his eyes finally locked with yours.

You couldn't help but feel small under his gaze, your glass now forgotten in your left hand, the right one extended to take his and stretch it for a quick second, returning to your first position, his expression remaining serious.

"Nice to meet you" he spoke, his voice sounding like velvet in your eyes, not quite sensing the undertone behind it. "Your father told me wonders about you"

You grin, the irony of that sentence making you laugh a little, what wonders could your father know about you? But you kept your composure, the conversation not going any further, and you forgot about him fast enough, when in another of those annoying parties you met the love of your life — or so you thought.

That same night, when you went back home, you were thinking about spending the rest of your life with some guy that flirted with you at the bar, and Jonathan, prayed to whatever thing listening to him up there, that crossed your path with his again.

He practically obsessed with you, because it felt right. You were young, beautiful, wealthy and had a last name that could open even more doors for him, getting tired of saving Falcone's man of going to jail; you were an opportunity, tied to a nice pair of legs.

After a few weeks of stalking, it kinda broke his heart that naive as he expected you, you got married to the guy from the party; he told you then his name was Lewis, and now you doubted it that was even true.

You were finally going to get what you always wished for, a family, love. And it was perfect. Everything was perfect.

It was a dream that you were living in. A dream that shattered in front of you no longer than three months after.

After you contracted married with this man, you took care of the house, now learning all of these housewife duties that you didn't know anything about, but making your best effort to please him, to be the perfect woman ever created, departing from your old life and habits and adjusting them to his own.

You couldn't be more happy, regardless of your bad cooking, the bad-swiped floor and the half-done bed that welcomed you both every night, you finally had love.

It lasted three months. Your wholesome real life fantasy of a marriage destroyed when you found out, accidentally, that this man was just an employee of your dad, willing to get a promotion if he married you. At that moment, you didn't know who you hated more, if the bastard, or your dad who was literally bribing the bastard to love you.

But your dad only wanted to make you happy, tho.

You were embarrassed, not quite sure of how to tell this to Jonathan, because after all, he was there for you, just for the money your dad was paying him. Your cursed the day your dad became rich, because all of it was making you miserable and it felt like it wasn't going to stop.

At this point, a feeling of despite against you was growing within Jonathan, after a few weeks treating you, he quickly remembered why he didn’t chose this path of career, but remembering that he was there because of a major reason; a reason more important than your helpless cries for attention.

He was sick of you, all you ever did was complain in the commodity of your million dollar house, unaware that there were more important problems in the world. It isn’t completely your fault, Jonathan thought one day, you were just an ungrateful brat, and his work was to tame you, and he planned to do just that today.

"So," he startled you, narrowing his eyebrows, an expression in his face that you could only understand as concern. "remember, if you don't speak, I can't help you".

You chuckle and shift your weight in the chair, immediately feeling your eyes fill up with tears as you confronted the fact that you had to speak about it, right now. He was quick to offer you his handkerchief, as he always did and with shaky hands you took it, sniffling onto it, closing your eyes as you felt your whole body shake with each one of your cries.

You felt Jonathan put his hand on your knee, softy caressing the skin that his thumb could reach, opening your eyes and looking at his, Jonathan welcoming you with a pitying look. You put the tissue aside, both him being so close and his scent impregnated on the piece of fabric making you feel a little giddy, a little confused.

Why was your heart racing so much? He was your therapist, here to talk about your former husband.

Jonathan couldn't help but grin a little, knowing he was maybe breaking a rule here, touching you like this, being so close. He couldn't care less, after all, he wasn't here listening to you cry and bitch about your whole life for the sake of your well-being. He was here because he wanted you to break and get on your knees to him. Figuratively and literally.

"It's so embarrassing" you struggled to spit out "He didn't even love me, Doctor"

He hummed, dragging his chair so he was a little closer to you, you looked at him through your teary lashes and tried to keep it together, this wasn't the first time you cried in front of him, but the reason itself was enough to make you feel full of shame.

He didn't say anything, this being a motivation for you to continue.

"My dad was paying him" you murmured, cleaning the mascara off your cheeks. "It was all a lie"

The whole situation was absurd, what happened to you still felt like a sick joke they were playing on you, your dad and Lewis, probably waiting for the perfect moment to tell you the truth.

But that wasn't going to happen, right now the only thing that felt true to you was Jonathan. He set you up to that, and you blindly fell on his silly trap.

"Poor thing" he cooed you, moving his hand a little further up your thigh, noticing the goosebumps on your skin. A mastermind, that's how he felt. "How could they?"

That was all the mendacity he fed you with since you started seeing him, making you believe he was actually empathizing with you, full of loathe against everyone who hurt you, who dared to leave you alone, but now he was there, his task being to pretend to care.

"It's pathetic" you blurted out, leaning into his touch when his prying hand went up to your cheek. You really couldn't say anything more, crying against his hand like it was something you did every monday morning. "I'm so sad. I don't know what to do"

He shook his face, your eyes meeting his with a confused expression, black stained tears dropping on your lap and wetting his hand before he returned it and looked over his clipboard, pretending to think.

You were so vulnerable, ready for him to destroy. He finally got you where he wanted. He then explained you that you were so sad that it made you unaware of a lot of things, blinded by your own pity against yourself that every door that opened, you closed. It all came down to a thing; you needed a diagnosis.

He gave you a moment to process the information, ready to continue with his plan.

"Actually," he started, his tone now more firm, more strict, the one he used when you were approaching the end of the session. On the last one, he recommended you to touch yourself, to liberate oxytocin on your brain or something you really didn't understood.

It was almost evil from his side, he knew that your only thought while doing it would he him ordering you to do so.

"I'm sorry to be the bearer of such awful news, Y/N" he stated, making your heart skip a beat. "But I think you're sick"

You nearly gasped, the air got stuck in your throat, more tears gathering in your eyes. You lifted one of your hands to your chest, a million thoughts crossing your head as Jonathan's clever eyes examined your expression.

Bingo.

"Sick" you repeated after a moment, almost like you were making peace with the revelation. "How sick?"

It was an innocent question, your tone of voice shaking as your inferior lip trembled, holding it with your teeth in an attempt to not burst into tears again, your whole body feeling like it was going to break into a million peaces by how much you were shaking in the couch.

Jonathan was quick, standing from the chair he was on and taking a seat by your side, his hand swiftly placing in your knee. You looked at him confused, he never got this close, maybe your sickness was serious.

"What am I, Doctor?" you whispered, your eyes showing him a hint of fear that made him finally lose all his faked professionalism. "Depressed? Crazy?"

Both of you were dying of anticipation now; meanwhile you feared that you were going to get admitted to Arkham, Jonathan was seeing the golden ticket to the best future he could ever achieve, and all thanks to you.

"Oh, no, no" he purred, his hand making its way up to your thigh. "You're sick, not crazy"

You parted your lips as his hand moved more further, not really sure of what was happening, not daring to stop him, too scared of your mental health to think about anything else, not helping the way your legs started to part too.

A sudden gasp left your lips as his hand squeezed your tight, a smile you never saw on him appearing on his face. The crying stopped a moment ago, the surprise of having him so close making you go a little numb.

"I know what a girl like you needs" he said, almost sternly, like his hand wasn't centimeters away from your panties.

Was in that moment, that you knew this wasn’t about therapy anymore.

"You think so?" you whispered, your voice still shaky, but now for a whole different reason. "And what is it, Doctor?"

"To be fucked stupid"

It almost shocked you how he said that as it was a normal diagnosis, like he gave you a name of a medicine you could go and buy at any drugstore in town. You gulped and didn't move when his grip tightened on your leg, your face growing red.

A loud gasp escaped your lips when at your lack of response, Jonathan grabbed you hard by the jaw and forced you to look at him. Your eyes glistened with nothing but fear, your brows narrowing as you mumbled something that he really couldn't understand, and it wasn't like he wanted to.

"You're sick, Y/N" he repeated, more harshly this time, his hand moving your head as he spoke. "And I'm going to cure you"

He let go of your face to clasp his lips against yours, a kiss very far away from sweet, his mouth moving roughly against yours. You never had been kissed like this, so you tried to play it along, trying to show him some of the love you felt for him, that you thought you owed him.

But he didn't care if you felt loved during the kiss, trying to assert the dominance he held upon you, his hand now holding firmly the back of you neck to prevent you from pulling away.

It was a mess; your teeth clashed, drool was dripping from your chin as his tongue explored every space of your mouth, not leaving anywhere of it untouched. Your movements were a little stiff, unsure of what to do, trying to provide the sweetness that he lacked.

His hand moved to your the front of your neck and squeezed it a little, making you yelp in surprise, the sound muffled by his mouth. You tried to get away from the kiss, confused about his rough actions against you, a little scared of him even, almost like you didn’t trust him every little part of your brain in this same couch for the last couple of months.

But then it clicked on your foggy brain, he knew you, perfectly— you only knew his name, you didn’t know what this man was capable of.

You could only move a few centimeters away from his hungry mouth, your lips parted as tears welled in your eyes from the pressure he was applying to your neck.

“Stop” you managed to stutter, your breath mixing with his. “I can’t- breathe”

You doubted that he listened to you, your voice not coming out of your throat at all and getting stuck in your larynx, your voice-box completely muffled by his strong grip.

“Shut up, brat” he spitted, his tone sounding full of abhor, your eyes wide open as you felt the air leaving your body and your lungs starting to burn. “Always getting what you want”

You weakly placed one of your hands around his wrist, another attempt of gasp elicited from your agape mouth as he lifted his other hand and choked you with both, something in your dizzy mind telling you that he was possessed.

“Crying all the time- complaining” he continued, not caring if you were listening, the suffocation being to much to bare now. “So selfish”

And maybe he was.

Your brain was filled with fear, wondering how it all went from a kiss to this— almost getting killed by your therapist in your couch. You opened your eyes to meet his, feeling like your chest was on fire as there wasn’t any air flowing in, seeing how the blue of Jonathan’s eyes has darkened and his lips were parted as well, the muscles of his jaw twitching as he choked you to death.

Your eyebrows narrowed together in terror as you noticed that familiar tingly sensation in your lower belly and your thighs clenching together. Maybe it was something about him exercising this power over you, how you felt so feeble under his touch, that was probably leaving bruises on your neck for you to carry and show around what he was making you do it.

You didn’t have enough time to think about it, you were practically dying.

“And you are enjoying this?” he said with an amused tone, probably noticing how your thighs fragily contracted against one another.

You felt yourself slowly lose your consciousness when finally the relief came and the air started to flow again to your desperate lungs, taking long and loud puffs of air when his hand let go of your neck. Your erratic breath was interrupted by a loud moan that escaped you when Crane yanked you by your hair and shoved you to the floor.

He was quick yo position you between his legs, looking at you through his unfixed glasses, giving you a twisted smile that made you quiver in fear, that growing wet patch on your panties making you feel like a really sick girl.

“Doctor-” you mumbled, closing your eyes as he pulled your hair, withdrawing a mewl off your mouth. “Hurts”

“You talk when I tell you to talk” he snickered, adjusting the way his fingers gripped your hair. You thought that he might just pull out the strand he was tugging. “I’m sick of your whining”

You felt more tears well up in your eyes; not sure if it was from the pain in your head or how his words felt like a knife that landed right on your heart. You were confused, sad, angry— a little hot, too.

“I pay you yo listen to me” you said, your voice so shaky you were lucky he could understand you. You wished he didn’t understand you.

Another sort of moan left your lips as a hard slap made a landing in your cheek, your face turned to the side because of the impact. You closed your eyes in disbelief, a cry coming out as you felt helpless, wondering if this was some exposure therapy he was experimenting on you.

He repeated himself, instructing you to talk only when you were told so, nodding in defeat as you accepted whatever this was and continued to play along with Jonathan’s sick fantasy of controlling you, without even knowing it.

You looked at him with nothing but inquietude, the look in his eyes giving you the foreboding that nothing good was about to happen now, frightened of what we would do to you.

He didn’t show any hints of letting go of your hair anytime soon, just holding it firmly to keep you looking at him through your heavy lashes, a wicked grin on his smug face.

“Let’s give that whining mouth of yours a good use” he said, and you gulped, understanding what he wanted and quivering in fear, not really understanding why the sticky sensation between your legs grew.

“Undo my pants” he commanded, and you stayed still, your eyes not leaving his even when another slap landed on your tear-wet face. “Do as you’re told, brat. This might be your only cure”

You couldn’t help but sob a little, his tone sounding so definitive, so professional. Your trembling hands reached his belt and unbuckling it ungracefully, taking longer than he expected, you heard him chuckle as you unbuttoned his pants afterwards, then putting your hands back in front of your lap.

“C’mon” he pulled your hair again, causing you to moan in pain. “Don’t make me tell you what to do”

You looked at him again in nothing but shame, trying to resist to this humiliating request of his, but complying it anyways. He said he was going to cure you, but now you doubted it, right now, you only wanted this to be over.

With a last look at his eyes you returned your attention to the growing bulge in his slacks, the shame in your brain being present at all times, not quite helping the way your eyes were fixated on his clothed member. You were quick to free him out after your staring earned you a other harsh pull of hair, your lips turned into a line when his cock slapped his abdomen, causing his dress shirt to wrinkle a little.

“Go on, Y/N” he encouraged you, as you looked at him with pleading eyes, silently begging him for mercy, knowing that even if you screamed it at him, he just wouldn’t listen. “This isn’t about what you want, anymore. Is about what you need”

A tear slid from your eyes and disappeared down your cheek when his free hand placed the tip of his hard cock on your parted lips, gesturing you to take it and not waste more of his time— more than you already did.

“Open up, whore” he said under his breath, using your hair as a device to move your head and help you shove his length down your throat. You complied, the tears in your eyes now soaking in you cheeks by the effort that you were making trying to welcome his thick shaft down your mouth.

You were sure you scratched him with your teeth a few times as he bobbed your head up and down with his strong hand, manhandling you without care for his own pleasure. You placed your hands on his knees, trying not to gag, but when his tip touched the bottom of your throat, you couldn’t help it.

You cried as you felt suffocated again, now for a whole different reason, a more humiliating one, and you almost wished he killed you then. His hips buckled everytime your lips reached the base of his cock, the room filled with the sounds of your mouth and saliva coating his shaft and the soft moans that came out of his poisoned lips.

“Take it, whore” he said, his voice now husky and distorted by the pleasure, the pain that your teeth accidentally inflicted on him turning him even more. “God- you are horrible at this”

He chuckled between heavy breaths, pulling you by the hair and releasing his cock from your mouth, a vulgar pop filling both of your ears at the sudden separation of your lips and his member. Your eyes looked at the floor, feeling such a shame that the mere thought of meeting his face with your fearful face made you cringe, the pulsating pain on the back of your head making you dizzy.

“You can’t suck dick properly” he said, his tone sounding like he was making fun of you. “No wonder why your husband left you. You’re just pathetic”

You finally rose up your face to look at that insufferable smile of his, ignoring the way his cock was still hanging there in front of you, almost brushing your nose. His fingers finally untangled from your hair and giving you some sort of solace, the consolation that this traumatic session was over.

Maybe the remedy was worse than the sickness itself.

“Jonathan, stop it, plea-”

Your imploration was completely ignored, followed by another slap on your wet cheek that made you cry even more, not understanding how this man could’ve been the same one who made you felt loved and finally listened. You fell for a lie once again.

“Get on the couch” he simply said, his words were like a bucket of cold water fell on you. “Stop the bitching, don’t want to hear it”

“And I’m your doctor. Not Jonathan” he reminded you, making you feel even more ashamed.

You did as he told, again, half-standing from the floor and sitting next to him, trying to take as much space from him as you could before he grabbed you by the waist and pulled you closer, your face growing red as his face was now centimeters away from yours.

“You look so beautiful when you cry” he whispered, caressing your face but trying to nor wipe the tears away, almost like he was admiring you. It made you melt into his touch, glad that his kind demeanor was there again. Even if his words made you cringe— and the fact that his cock was still out, you felt your heart grew warmer by the way he tenderly touched you.

It didn’t last much longer, when his lips twitched into a malicious smile and went down to nibble your neck, leaving a trail of wet kisses around the bruised skin and bitting where his fingers hurt you previously, making your fingers wrap on his hair and cry for mercy, trying for him to stop hurting you this much.

“Shut up, stupid brat” he repeated that same insult, making you swallow your cries, closing your eyes in disbelief as he continued to injure your already suffering skin.

You arched your back in surprise when all of the sudden his hands reached for your breasts, groping your tits like his life depending on it, stimulating you through the fabric of your shirt, but all you felt was fear and anger, impotence flowing through your veins because you just couldn’t scream and push him away, fear was freezing you on the spot.

The worst part? You maybe didn’t wanted to push him away. Because maybe if he gets what he wants now you would be cured and he’ll be back to normal, returning you the sweet Doctor Crane that you met once, not this monster that was groping you like a piece of meat.

He clicked his tongue and dropped both of his hands to spread your legs open, forcing your back to drop onto the hand rester of the couch. You looked at him with big eyes, your heart felt like it was going to jump out of your chest and scream to Jonathan that enough was enough, you just couldn’t take any of this anymore.

But your heart stayed there, between your lungs that seemed incapable to hold any air, making your breathing erratic. So nobody screamed Jonathan to stop, and he continued with his profanation against your persona— your dignity.

He bit his lip at the sight of your fucked-up face, your legs open as it showed him the dark patch on your baby blue panties, darting his eyes from your half-exposed crotch to your teary eyes.

“God, keep crying and I might come now” he growled, lowering his face to meet your pussy, kissing it through your underwear, making you mewl, closing your eyes at the sudden attention your core was getting.

You felt embarrassed at how much you enjoyed when he moved the fabric to the side and started making out with your cunt, swallowing your fluids like a starved man.

“So wet” he mumbled against your labia, the vibration making your eyes roll back, bitting your lip to prevent any moan to come out; he was raping you, why did he make you enjoy it? “I bet you like this, to be treated like a whore”

You shook your head, more tears falling out of your eyes as you felt nothing else but humiliation, pleasure washing over your body everytime his tongue brushed your clit, your back arched against nothing.

“You like it?” he said, finally pulling out and pushing his body up so his face was in front of yours, his cock grazing against your now stimulated pussy, a gasp leaving your lips, a gasp that quickly turned into a hurting moan when his hand slapped you again, this time in your throbbing cunt. “Answer me”

“I- I do” you whispered, gripping his shoulders when you felt him align the head of his member with your whole, scared of how it was going to fit. You had trouble taking it when he face-fucked you, how the fuck it was going to fit down there?

“I’m going to fuck you so good” he whispered between pants, jerking himself off before entering you. “You’re going to forget that pathetic husband of yours”

You couldn’t help but cry, trying to push him off by the shoulders, a terrified look on your face. “It won’t fit, Doctor” you pleaded, a crooked grin on his face as you keep on calling him that. “I beg you, don’t-”

“Yes, beg me” he said, starting to push his member inside you with a slow but relentlessly pace, not giving you enough time to adjust, just to scream and hit him weakly on the chest, face and shoulders before ge grabbed your hands and pinned them down, on the sides of your body. “I’m going to cure you- do you so good”

His voice was low, as he barely could speak when he felt just how tight you were, your walls hugging his cock just the right way, his pulsating head making your mind dizzy, the stinging pain starting to be forgotten.

But when he slid out and entered back it, the hardness of his movement made your insides burn with pain, a loud cry echoing in the walls of the living room as he started to trust into your pussy with a fast pace, not caring at all if you felt good.

He snapped his hips against yours with an animalistic force, growls escaped from his mouth every time his cock was welcomed by the warmth of your stretch whole, the sensation making him go even more feral, making you cry more.

He let go of one of your hands and grabbed your jaw, forcing you to look at his eyes as he fucked you vigorously, the blue on his iris not existent anymore, only his widely dilated pupils meeting yours, your blurred vision distinguishing the depraved expression in his face.

“You- so tight” he snarled, his voice barely audible, covered by the sound of skin slapping and your loud cries. “I bet your stupid husband didn’t fuck you like this”

You felt nothing but shame as you felt his cock now sliding in and out more easily, the wetness of your cunt growing as he spoke to you like that, that familiar heat flourishing in your lower belly as his words degraded you, your cries quickly becoming moans.

“This was all you needed- fuck” he said, his spit splashing your face as he talked, his words full of disdain. “A good dick, that’s all it takes to keep bitches like you quiet” You nodded, thinking that if you agreed he would stop. How wrong you were.

In a quick movement Jonathan took his cock out and spun you around, not giving you time to get on your ass up by laying your chest down before he stabbed your hole again, pushing your skirt all the way up to see how his pelvis came into collision with your ass.

You were moaning like a bitch in heat now, sure that the maids were listening, not really caring about it anymore. Jonathan was fucking you nice and hard, your mouth wide open as his tip brushed your cervix, screaming to him to keep it right there.

“I’m close” he said, pulling your hair back to press his chest to your back, his other hand going down to play with your swollen clit, wanting your to come around his cock like the slut he knew you were. “Come with me, you whore”

“Yes” you moaned, your tongue out as his cock hit the right spots, making your hips to move against his, grinding against his hand and dick, feeling your wetness drip down to your thighs. “Yes, yes, I want to”

He laughed, approaching your ear with his tongue to bite it, leaving a long and wet kiss underneath it that made you grow hotter, your eyes closed as you let him use you; the only thought in your mind being him and his wonder-working cock.

Truth was, he was fucking you stiffly, every slam of his hips stronger than the last one, but you were so deprived of touch, so dick-starved, that even if Jonathan was fucking you like a lifeless doll, only for the sake of his pleasure, you loved it, even when it hurt you.

“I’m going to fill you up” he said against your ear, his hand leaving your clit unattended as he grabbed your hip to increase the velocity of his thrusts, ramming your hole like a demented man, making your head drop against his shoulder and scream at the ceiling, now knowing what he meant by curing you.

“Going to get you pregnant” he said, more to himself than anything “so you don’t have to bitch about being alone anymore”

You opened your eyes with terror, you didn’t want children, you were so young. The idea made you frightened, the moaning now sounding like little nos and pull outs, but Jonathan didn’t listen.

“Doctor please, please, pull out” you pleaded, reaching for his hips and trying to push him away, one of his hands slapping your ass and pulling you down by your shoulder blade so you wouldn’t fight anymore. “Doctor Crane please”

“I will fucking fill you up, Y/N” he chanted, laughing at the idea of your round belly and your swollen tits, carrying his baby all day and feeling all worked up and needy all day, only waiting for him to fuck you all day. “You won’t be alone again. You won’t be sad again”

Then you realized it.

When he came, your hot walls creamed every single drop of his cum, making his thrusts sloppy and slow, his moans filling your ears as you sobbed under his touch, feeling his seed paint your walls and load your insides with his sperm.

That was your cure.

His hot release that now flooded inside your leaking cunt, that was your so-promised antidote. He took away your solitude by giving you his and yours firstborn, a bastard baby that would give you the company that you lacked.

You felt him chuckle as he rode out his high, the chase of his own climax made you forget yours, so now there you were, your swollen cunt looking for its release while his rested among your insides calmly, like it was meant to be.

He didn’t pull out immediately, taking his time to appreciate the sight of your skirt resting in your hips all rolled up, your bruised neck and messy hair, the way your ass was exposed to him by the way he had you arching your back. All for him— for him to wreck.

He pulled out and rolled his eyes when you started crying, now being annoying instead of hot. You sat on the couch and saw him button his pants and fix his hair, hissing when you felt nothing but pain growing in your worn-out pussy. You explained through your weak voice how he ruined your life, that he was the worst person you’ve ever met and that now you had to carry the product of his sick and twisted rapist-fantasy, even tried to hit him, but your pathetic tantrum only gained you another slap in the face, and a stern look.

When he tried to stand up and leave, you grabbed him by the wrist and begged him not to, he couldn’t just leave you, not now, not ever.

“Don’t be so ungrateful” he said, a smile that made you feel nothing but trepidation in his face. “You’ll never be alone again”

You couldn’t help but feel scared. Scared of him, of what just happened, of what’s going to happen next, scared for your future son with this evil specie of a man.

When you continued to cry, and he pulled you for a hug as he assured you that he would never leave you; and how could he? He had a long life of success waiting for him now, giving a girl of your status his last name, his children. Oh, it’s going to be wonderful, he just needed to tame you and make you the perfect slave for him, and that wasn’t going to be hard.

You were sure that you’ll never be loved, but at least now Jonathan was going to be with you. You’ll never be alone again.

thanks for reading. w/love, fenina;)

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