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zablife · 3 days

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@garrison-girl-08 😮‍💨 Very relieved to hear the fling with Sara is old! Tho I still think she sounds like trouble! So impressed by Tommy's level of commitment. That last bit is slightly unnerving tho. What exactly does he plan to do when he finds the other driver? 🤨

F*ck Buddies

Part 9 ( more here)

Pairing -Modern Thomas Shelby and Reader

Warnings- 18*, swearing, violence, sexual content

I do not consent to my work being copied.

When you woke up the next morning, you were now in Tommy's bed. The last thing you remembered, was laying on his sofa. You still had your nightie on, so nothing sexual must have happened. Would he be annoyed with you?

He cooked for you, made a special effort and you fell asleep! Embarrassing!

Turning over, you noticed the bedroom door suddenly opening. Tommy was carrying a cup, dressed in his suit, shirt and tie. Hair pristine, a big smile on his face. "Morning sleepyhead," he grinned, placing the cup down on the bedside table next to you. Perching on the bed, he bent to kiss you.

"Ah don't I just woke up, I'm so sorry about last night," you apologised, "You should have just woken me up,"

"Why?" he frowned, brushing a stray hair away, "I tucked you in like a good boy, you were drooling, so...."

"Stop it, I was not," you swatted his arm, feeling a flush creep to your face. "I feel bad, you went to all of the effort, and we didn't even have sex,"

When his phone began to ring, he placed it on silent. Laughing at your statement, totally bewildered that's what you had thought. "Ah fuck yeah, I got you here just for sex, now what will I do?" Tommy shrugged, enjoying your expression.

"We had a good evening, yeah? I told you I wanted to do this right," staring into your eyes, he brushed his hand over your cheek.

“But... I have to go, I made you some tea. You be ok locking up?"

"Yeah I need to go soon. I have to get to work, I will leave the key at the front desk," you replied, in between the kisses he was planting on your face.

"Just hang on to it," he called, as he left the bedroom.

Climbing into his car, Tommy checked his phone again. Sara had called him five times, and kept texting him. What the fuck? Was she not getting the message? It had been months since he had last had anything to do with her.

Way before you.

She had been a fling, that was it. She was very full on. Too eager, always hounding him. She was just a fuck! And plus now, he had you..... You were so much more than that.

It didn’t help, that she worked at the same gym as you. She couldn't of told you, you would have mentioned it surely ? Tommy hadn’t even seen her there for weeks. Luckily…

"Use you? We had a bit of fun, that was it. Stop calling me,"

She would get the message, if he had to go and see her he would. Warn her off, he could even change his number. She was not going to mess this up for him! No way.

Showering and dressing at Tommy's apartment, you were now rushing around. He lived further away from where you worked, and the city traffic would be busy now.

"Running late, stuck in traffic. If I get stuck, can you start my pilates?" you text your co worker, Amira.

"Ok, but I have a client in an hour. You better not be fucking, you dirty girl?"

Laughing, you locked his door, rushing to the lift. You should have got up earlier. Waving at the doorman, you rushed from the building. Checking your watch as you went.

Twenty minutes later, you were still stuck in traffic. Sitting at the red lights, waiting for them to change. Briefly glancing into the rear view mirror, you noticed a white BMW approach.

Leaning down, whilst stationary, you grabbed your water from your bag. Checking the lights were still on red, you looked into your mirror again. Thinking how fast, the approaching car seemed to be going.

Where they going to stop? Your hands gripped the steering wheel, as you contemplated pulling away.

But, it was soon too late.

The car crashed into yours, full speed. Sending you flying forward, your airbag exploding. Body being crushed between the chair and the wheel. The last sound you heard, was your horn beeping....

"She's still not here," Amira told the gym manager, Dean. "I've called her over and over, she text me this morning. Do you think she's ok?"

Frowning, Dean picked up his phone, trying to call you himself. You were never late, and never rang in sick. "Maybe she's still stuck in traffic?"

Tommy had also been trying to get hold of you. It was 5pm now, and he hadn't heard a word. No reply to his text, no calls. Deciding to leave work, he set off towards the gym. He hadn't planned on going today, but he knew you would be there.

Pushing the lock button on his car, he opened the gym door. Bumping smack bang into Sara. Swallowing harshly, he glared at her. Not wanting an argument, not even wanting to be seen with her.

“She’s not here, if that’s what you’ve come for?” She growled at him, taking a step closer.

“What do you mean? She’s working today?” He asked, avoiding the conversation about her basically stalking him.

“She was meant to be, she didn’t turn up. Thought it might have something to do with you?” She questioned, running her fingers over his shirt. "Did you tie her up, Tommy?" she cooed at him, trying to look sexy.

Shooing her hand away, Tommy frowned. “Didn’t turn up?”

Pulling yourself up, you tried to get comfortable on the hospital bed. Still feeling dazed, you didn’t know how long you’d been here for. When the curtain was pulled back, a nurse in his early twenties appeared. Shooting you a smile, he placed a cup next to you.

“Sweet tea for the shock, my little chicken,” he winked. “You wanna answer that, it hasn’t stopped ringing,” He gestured towards your bag.

You remembered them asking, about your next of kin. But you didn’t want to bother anyone. It had only been a bump. Fumbling for your handbag, you stared at your phone.

“Tommy calling,”

“That your fella?” The nurse asked, feeling your pulse.

“No… well … sort of…” you frowned, the action making your headache worse. “Not sure,”

“Fuck buddies?” He whispered, “Put the poor sod out of his misery, call him back,"

Tommy was driving to your apartment, when you called him back. His heart began to race with relief. Until he heard your voice, heard the words you were telling him. The tell tale tremor in your words. He swore his heart stopped, just for a second.

A car crash? Fuck…. He had to see you.

Now sitting on the edge of the hospital bed. You tried to stretch your body, everything ached. Your neck felt tight and bruised. But, you had been checked over. Just cuts and bruises. You had been lucky, they told you. Your car hadn't been so lucky, you had only had it for six months.

“Y/n?” You heard, seeing Tommy rushing towards you. “What the fuck happened?” Squeezing you tightly, you flinched in pain. “Shit, sorry,”

Leaning against him, you were suddenly so glad he was here. You prided yourself, on being independent. Not relying on anyone. Not being a burden. But was it so wrong, to let yourself be cared for? Loved? No not loved, you just cared for each other. Or was it just lust?

"I can't remember much, just a car crashing into me full speed. I was... waiting at the lights, I think," you frowned, trying to process the events of the day. "They said, the driver had been drinking..."

Gently, he took your face in his hands, turning your head from side to side. "Fucking idiots, are you ok though? Have you been checked over?"

Nodding, you desperately tried to hold your emotions in. You just felt so vulnerable and he was being so kind to you. "I went to the gym, looking for you. A million scenarios, were running through my head,"

Seeing your eyes fill with tears, he pressed gentle kisses to your bruised face. "It's ok, I'm here now,"

"Can you give me a lift home?" you asked, "They towed my car, I think it's a write off. I can't even think about it, yet," A sob escaped your throat, making you look away in embarrasment.

"A lift home?" Tommy asked, "I'm taking you home, and not letting you out of my sight,"

Tommy was already planning, to find out who was driving the car that hit you....

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zablife · 3 days

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La Piscine (1969)

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zablife · 4 days

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[Image ID: A flow chart with two branches. The starting point reads "does this character have problems." One branch leads to "yes" then "make them worse," while the other branch leads to "no" then "give them some." End ID.]

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zablife · 4 days

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@little-diable Chi, your ideas always blow my mind, but this one has to be one of your most brilliant. The personification of death as a beautiful, free spirited lover caked in earth she will bury him in is genius! Esp bc in canon we so often see Tommy wishing for the sweet release of death. In this fic you've granted him that as death comes to take him so gently, allowing him to die with honor. There's a kindness to it that resonated with me. Tysm for sharing your vision!

Because the rain keeps falling – Tommy Shelby (smut)

This story is very dear to me, I don't know why, but it feels awfully personal. Please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading this, your comments keep us writers motivated! Enjoy my loves. xxx

Summary: It's April 23rd, time for (y/n)'s yearly visit. But this year it'll be the last visit, giving the two of them one last chance to search the love they foster for one another.

Warnings: 18+, smut, piv, melancholic vibe, I don’t want to give too much away lol

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x fem!reader (1.6k words)

He had his eyes focused on his documents, rereading the typed lines for the fifth time that night. Tommy’s head was hurting, pounding as if he had forced two bottles of liquor down his system only hours ago. Not even the smell of his cigarettes managed to distract him from the uneasiness clinging to him.

A sigh clawed through Tommy as he placed his glasses down to let his head roll back. His eyes fluttered close, inhaling and exhaling a few deep breaths like he had been taught years ago, swallowed by darkness whenever he had to move beneath the ground.

“Evening, Tommy.” His eyes shot open, body thrown into a fight or flight reaction as the unfamiliar voice wrapped itself around him. A voice so unfamiliar, it instantly snapped into place as his eyes found her piercing ones. She was leaning against the doorframe, arms wrapped in front of his chest, lips pulled into the breathtaking smile he hadn’t seen in exactly twelve months.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t want to frighten you, how impolite of me to just barge in.” Her dark boots met the ground, covered in mud and soil. Slowly she moved towards Tomy, only to plop down in the chair placed in front of his desk. “Can I?”

“Of course, here.” He reached a cigarette out for (y/n) to take, rising to his feet to light it for her. His bright eyes didn’t stray from hers once, watching her every move to try and figure out what her next words would sound like.

“It’s April the 23rd.” (Y/n)’s words left a pregnant pause, silent seconds Tommy used to study her, the dirty fingers that were covered in the same soil as her boots, the holes in her trousers that exposed parts of her legs, and the knitted sweater she had worn the last time he had seen her. And yet she was as breathtakingly beautiful as she always had been.

“I must have forgotten. I’m sorry, how foolish of me, eh?” A laugh rumbled through Tommy, a sound that managed to grow her smile, paired with a soft shake of her head. Smoke kept leaving her nostrils, wrapping (y/n) in a blue cloud that only made her eyes appear more dangerous, adding that twinkle he’d see late at night when his thoughts start to wander.

“Forgotten? I highly doubt that, Mister Shelby.” (Y/n) stubbed out her cigarette before she rose to her feet, rounding his desk to plop down on the expensive wood. She cupped his cheek with her fingers, letting him inhale her scent, the mixture of rain, soil, and incense. His eyes fluttered close as she stroked his lips with her thumb, smiling down at the man who seemed to instantly relax at her touch.

“This is the last time we can do this, Tommy. He is focused on me lately, I can’t risk anything, for both our sakes.” His low hum left her chuckling, a sound that turned into a laugh as Tommy pulled her into his lap without a warning, lips finding (y/n)'s before a reply could claw its way through Tommy.

Their lips moved in sync, hands finding one another’s body to search the closeness both had been aching for since her last visit. Her cold fingers undid the buttons of his vest, desperate to expose his body to her wandering eyes, a sight she had longed for. Tommy was just as impatient, momentarily breaking from the kiss to tug her sweater over her head.

“You’re the most beautiful sight I’ll ever be fortunate enough to marvel at.” He mumbled the words against her lips, letting his hands move up her naked upper body, cupping her breasts. (Y/n) arched herself into his touch, while grinding her core against his hardening cock, desperate to feel him beneath her.

“You were always good with words, weren’t you?” Her teasing words were stuck in her throat as Tommy rose to his feet, holding onto (y/n) before plopping her down on his desk. Tommy towered over her as if he was the one guiding her every movement, the guiding hand she’d reach for in the depth of the night, the last Hallelujah rolling off her tongue.

“If tonight is all I have left of you, I want to taste you, remember you for as long as I’ll get the chance to.” He pulled her torn trousers down her legs, letting his warm mouth find her aching cunt without another spoken word leaving him. (Y/n) choked on his name, letting her dirty fingers tug on his hair as Tommy brushed his tongue through her slit.

“Fuck, I almost forgot how good you’re at this.” Breathy chuckles left her as Tommy ate her out, pushing her closer towards the edge within seconds. Two of his fingers were pushed into her tightness, spreading her walls as his tongue kept brushing against her pulsing bundle, high on her taste. (Y/n) was everything his body was aching for, longing for her the second she left his side, promising to return the next year, and the following, all up until this very day.

“I need you inside of me, fuck me, please.” Their eyes met, his full of love and lust, hers full of longing and sadness. Slowly, Tommy pulled away, only to free his twitching cock from his dark suit trousers. He reached for her throat to tug her closer, lips finding hers again while he pushed into her tightness, groaning at the feeling of her wrapped around him.

For a moment, neither of them dared to move, clinging to one another like lost ships sailing through uneasy waters, knowing they could only trust one another. Tommy held her as if she was the treasure keeping his heart safe, locked away from all the pain he had to face; (y/n) held him as if he was the soul she had been searching for all this time.

Only slowly did he begin to move, fucking her on the table like a lover would fuck his significant other beneath a starry sky, fuelled by unspoken promises. Their bodies searched one another’s closeness, letting her walls flutter around his cock, wordlessly begging him to add more speed to his thrusts.

Even though both wanted to drag out this moment, knowing that it was the last time they could hold on like this, their bodies were desperate for their highs. Soon enough, they would cum in unison, letting go of one another’s name like a prayer spoken in a moment of need and loss. A moment of loss they’d soon enough live through, letting their hands drop as their eyes met for the last time.

“It’s an old story, a story I never believed in. But now I do,” her whispers rang in his ears as he pressed his lips to her throat, sucking on her cold skin to try and leave his mark on her body. “I love you, Tommy Shelby.”

His eyes met hers, momentarily allowing his pace to falter to wipe away the one single tear managing to leave her sad eyes. He kissed her to distract her from her pain, a distraction she needed to give in, to choke on his name as her high wrecked through her. Tommy kept fucking (y/n), searching his own release with his lips still pressed against hers.

Their bodies stayed connected as he came, imprinting himself on her walls as if this could change the outcome of this very situation. It was a foolish thought, a thought both clung to as he pulled away, careful not to hurt her.

No words were spoken as they redressed, not daring to let their gazes meet while doing so. Only as Tommy sat down in his chair, reaching for another cigarette to let a few deep exhales pass his lips, did they dare to lift their eyes. She cupped his cheek with sorrow swimming in her pupils.

“What will happen? Will you come and pick me up?” It was nothing but a whisper, and yet his words sounded like screams to her, burning through her body. (Y/n) matched the deep exhales leaving him, leaning back against his desk to properly study him. He had aged since the first time they had met, deep beneath the ground, and yet he looked even more handsome than all those years ago.

“I will. Can you promise me not to make it any harder on us?” (Y/n) took his cigarette from his lips to take a drag herself, staring down at Tommy as he nodded his head. It had been their deal for years, adding another year to the list while he promised that when the day would come, he wouldn’t fight it. “Good. There is only so much parting from you I can endure, all I ask of you is to make this last voyage bearable for us both.”

“Dying with you by my side will be an honour, (y/n).” With one last kiss pressed to his lips, (y/n) left his office. Her dirty fingers reached into her pocket, pulling out the old, leather-bound booklet to cross out Tommy’s name like she had done for the past years, only to add it to another page. Another year she granted him to live, one last year to be on this earth before she’d guide him towards the cemetery, to dig out his grave with her hands buried in soil, and her boots stuck in the muddy ground.

Because the rain keeps falling whenever she guides another soul away from this word.

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zablife · 4 days

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@cillmequick I love the mini temper tantrum over their assignment 🤭 However, methinks the lady doth protest too much! (Actually both of them) You can't tell me they aren't loving every min of this fake marriage assignment!

AND they only have one bed 😂 This is going to be so good! There's no way that doesn't come into play later with the constant PDA and bickering flirting (Don't let us down, Alex!)

I'm also squealing over the discovery that the villain is Luca! For some reason I'd convinced myself it was Tommy. However, I'm even more worried for your agents now 😱 I know it isn't very nice of me to bet against our heroes, but, let's be honest, their track record doesn't exactly inspire confidence. I can't wait to find out how things go when they attempt to break into Luca's room 😬

River Cartwright x Hattie Larkin (oc)

And just like that I have another series on my hands 😂 If you missed the posts yesterday - this is going to be a Slow Horses / Peaky Blinders crossover fic so strap in as I squish my two worlds together 🤭 I’d love to know what you think - remember comments (and reblogs!) are love 🤍

Summary: Faced with the morning after the night before, things are strained between Hattie and River. How will they cope when a new assignment forces them to spend time together?

Warnings: None really except for bad language and probably inaccurate depictions of espionage - I’m not a spook guys 😂 (or am I?! 😉). Slight spoiler about why River is in Slough House but that’s literally the opening sequence of s1-ep1 so not really a biggie.

Word count: 4414 PART 1 | SERIES

Part 2: The Waterfords

Pulling herself from slumber was a slow and reluctant process. She was so warm and cosy, wrapped as she was in the duvet and…

Her eyes snapped open.

What the actual fuck was that solid mass pressed against her back??

With a jolt of horror she tried to wriggle away from the warmth behind her, only to find she was pinned against it, a heavy arm draped across her middle.

Oh holy fucking shit…

The night before came flooding back, crashing over her like a cold bucket of water.

“Cartwright?!” she hissed, finally succeeding in removing his arm and scooting away from him, clutching the bedclothes to her chest.

Oh god, she was still naked.

River woke up with a start at her wriggling, squinting against the morning light filtering around her curtains.

“Mm-wha..?” he mumbled thickly, running a hand over his hair, the action sending the duvet sliding towards his waist.

Oh fuck, he was still naked too.

“What are you doing?” she hissed and he properly woke up, blue eyes finally focussing on her furious face, his frustratingly handsome features covered in confusion.

“Oh, I don’t know, sleeping?”

“No, you idiot! Why are you still here??”

“I was sleeping,” he said again and her scowl deepened.

“But why haven’t you left yet??”

He squinted at her like she might have hit her head.

“Larkin, I don’t really know how else to explain to you that I was sleeping. What part of that aren’t you getting?”

She sat up, pulling the covers with her so violently he had to quickly grab them to keep some for himself.

“Fucking hell, Cartwright - last night was a mistake. You know that, I know that. So why haven’t you fucked off in the middle of the night like a normal fucking person—” River slowly raised an eyebrow at her but she ignored it, “—so we can both pretend it never fucking happened and get on with our lives?!”

He sighed, struggling to sit up against the headboard, covers pooling in his lap.

“Why does it have to be like that though..? I thought—”

“Oh well now we really are fucked. River Cartwright has had a thought.”

He scowled and fidgeted with his hair again, only serving to make it even messier, sandy blonde strands sticking up every which way.

“You know, you’re the one who started it. And you’re the one who asked me to stay.”

“Yeah.. well..” she fumbled, feeling her face turn red. “I also said it was a really fucking stupid idea.”

Flames of mortification licked across her skin, burning away any latent desire that the sight of his pale, broad chest, dusted with darker hair, might have inspired.

“Hattie…c’mon” he said quietly, reaching towards her.

She hit him with a pillow and he yelped, holding up his hands in defence. “No! Don’t you Hattie me - get out! It’s already…” She scrabbled for her phone on the nightstand and groaned when she saw how late they were. “Fuck, it’s already after eight. You need to go right now ‘cause you can’t fucking go into work in yesterday’s clothes - you’ll give us both away.”

“Fine,” he sighed heavily, throwing back the covers, giving her an eyeful.

“Jesus River!”

He fumbled for his underwear, pulling them on, the elastic snapping at his hips.

“Yeah, that’s what you were saying last night.”

“Fuck you,” she snapped, a fresh wave of embarrassment flowing through her. Did he really have to look that good naked? Was there no justice in the world??

He disappeared into her living room, returning fully clothed a moment later.

“I’ll see you at work.”

As he disappeared again, she scrambled out of bed, grabbing her dressing gown and knotting it tightly at her waist.

“If you tell anyone about this…” she called after him as he stopped at the front door to pull on his boots.

“Why would I? Do you really think I want everyone knowing that I went home with you?” She pulled up short and he drew himself up to his full height, several inches taller than her, looking down with a dark expression. “Yeah, nice feeling isn’t it?”

“River..”

“Save it. I’ll see you at work. Your shameful secret is safe with me.” He stopped halfway out the door. “You’ll get there first so you better cover for me with Lamb.”

The door rattled in its frame as he slammed it behind him, the heavy thump of his footsteps disappearing down the stairs.

Hattie leaned against the wall and banged the back of her head against it a few times.

“Fuck,” she muttered, finally pushing herself into action and heading for the bathroom.

*****

Six weeks later

Thumping sounded from the ceiling above their office and they both sighed.

“It’s your turn,” muttered River, and even without looking up he could feel her sour expression.

With a huffy sigh, Hattie dragged herself from her desk, stumping her way up the stairs to Lamb’s office.

“You thumped, my liege?” she drawled, loitering in the doorway.

Jackson Lamb, surrounded in a fog of smoke, sat reclined in his chair with his feet on the desk. One of his toes was poking through a hole in his desperately threadbare socks.

If it wasn’t an almost daily sight, she might have been inclined to lose her recently consumed lunch.

“Where’s the other one?”

Hattie frowned. “Which one?” There were five other people in the office, apart from her and Cartwright. Not including Catherine because Lamb would never lump her in with the rest of them.

“Who do you think?”

“…Cartwright?”

“Clever fucking girl.”

“He’s downstairs.” She stared at him for a moment.

“Well go and fucking get him then!”

With a mutinous scowl she left the room and leaned over the bannister.

“DANUBE!”

She smirked as she heard the scraping of his chair against the wooden floor of their office and a second later his blonde head poked around the door.

“Boss wants you.”

Wearily he climbed the stairs towards her. “You know, that’s getting really tiresome now?”

She grinned widely. “But yet I have so many more rivers of the world to try.”

He deliberately bumped her shoulder as he passed on his way into Lamb’s office, knocking her slightly off balance and she shoved him back, sending them both shambling into the room.

“Are you two toddlers quite fucking finished? Fuck me, no wonder you two didn’t last five minutes as proper fucking spies.”

Drawing themselves up in poses of slightly embarrassed contrition they both assumed serious expressions.

“Sorry,” mumbled Hattie.

“She started it,” added River, earning a glare from beside him and sharp look from his boss.

“Shaddup the pair of you,” ordered Lamb, pulling his feet off the table to sit properly, shuffling a set of non-descript brown folders in front of him.

“Now, not that either of you delinquents deserve it but I’ve got a job for you—”

“A real one?” interrupted River and Lamb just stared heavily at him, sucking on his dwindling cigarette. “Sorry,” he muttered, shuffling his feet.

“Apparently the Park is having a flu epidemic or some shit, and they’re short-staffed. Which is the only reason you two are being allowed within a hundred miles of an active operation.” He looked squarely at Hattie. “After last time it’s a wonder you still have fucking jobs at all.”

He held out one of the files and Hattie swiped it before River could, quickly flicking it open and scanning the first page. River hovered at her shoulder, reading, the warmth of him bleeding through her shirt.

“We’re doing surveillance? Really??”

God, he was like an excitable puppy sometimes, she thought, rolling her eyes as she kept reading down the page.

“I’m fucked if I know why they would want the bloke who can’t tell the difference between colours and the girl who stabs people instead of keeping a low profile, but here we are. Not so much bottom of the barrel but the fucking thing is well and truly empty.”

“So here it is,” he continued, lighting a fresh smoke. “There is absolutely no contact to be made. The target’s taking his mistress to Devon but it’s a front—”

“Wait what? We’re doing surveillance in Devon??”

“Cartwright if you don’t stop interrupting me you’ll be going fucking nowhere!”

Hattie sniggered but stopped abruptly at the expression on Lamb’s face.

“You’re to keep tabs on him for three days and report your findings to some real spies who will do the proper fucking work. And you will be so fucking discrete that God himself wouldn’t see you, do you understand?”

They nodded quietly.

He lifted two other files and checked the tabs before swapping them, leaning to handing them over. “Because it’s a public place, you need proper legends - details are all in there.” He pulled them back as they reached to take them. “You will not lose these or get yourselves blown. Costs a fucking fortunate to create this shit - far more than either of you are worth.”

He proffered the files again and they took one each.

“Wait what??” exclaimed Hattie as she read the opening section of her cover persona. “No, absolutely fucking not.”

“I’m sorry, did this look like a negotiation to you, Larkin?”

“But we have to pretend to be married!”

“Yeah well, I can understand your reticence,” agreed Lamb, scratching his bristly chin. “I wouldn’t want to be hitched to a cunt like him either.”

River opened his mouth to retaliate when Jackson’s phone rang.

“Go on, fuck off the pair of you,” he ordered, reaching for the receiver. “Oh, and Larkin,” he added and she turned, halfway to the door. “You fucking stab anyone this time and that’s it? End of. Alright?”

She felt River start to giggle beside her and pushed past, stomping back down to their office.

“You know, did it occur to you that maybe I don’t want to pretend to be married to you either??” he grumbled as he shut the door.

She threw him a look as she slumped behind her desk. “Right, yeah, that’s believable.”

“Wow….”

Ignoring him, she leafed through the details, not really taking anything in. “I don’t understand why he picked you and me though.”

“Min’s tied up on that other thing with Louisa, he hasn’t even learned Marcus’s name yet. I mean, would you rather he sent Ho??”

She shuddered. “But why does it have to be one of you lot? Shirley could come with me. Thought we were supposed to be a modern Service these days.”

River laughed, dropping his own file on the desk.

“Shirley, really? What if you get in a tight spot, like last time?”

“Please, she’s ten times tougher than you. And she’d be quicker to help and probably wouldn’t immediately get herself punched in the face, leaving me no choice but to stab someone.”

“So it’s my fault that you killed Kalugin??”

“I mean, that’s what I told Duffy and Lady Di,” she grinned.

“F’fucks sake,” he muttered, glaring moodily at the papers in front of him.

“Oooohh… language, Tiber.”

His head snapped up, finding her grinning wickedly at him. “Larkin, I swear to god…”

“Hey now, that’s no way to speak to your wife,” she beamed, turning her attention back to her file.

He watched as she chewed the end of her pen, eyes down, scanning the page. Fucking hell, this was going to be a long three days.

*****

The car journey from London to the Devon coast was possibly the longest thing Hattie had ever endured. Although they had settled into a certain rhythm of slightly awkward, passive aggressive normality at work, being in a confined space with him for the better part of five hours was a completely different matter. He was too close, she could smell his aftershave, the soft spiciness bringing back memories she had been trying to forget.

Like having her face pressed against his neck, breathing him in, as he fucked her over the edge, every deep stroke sending her spiraling.

Her thighs squeezed together unconsciously and she cleared her throat, hoping he hadn’t noticed.

To break the tension she suggested they quiz each other on their cover stories - newlyweds, Robin and Glenn Waterford. Hattie couldn’t help but feel that someone at the Park had a dodgy sense of humour when they came up with their aliases. River had whinged for at least half a day about being forced to be called Glenn, until she pointed out that it might not actually be worse than his real name and he had retreated to silent seething instead.

“How did we meet?” she asked as he overtook a slow moving tractor on a country lane, finally off the motorways and heading towards the coast.

“At a wedding - I was a friend of the groom, you worked with the bride.”

“And they are called..?”

“Vic and Mike.”

She nodded and he tapped the steering wheel thoughtfully.

“But how did we get from meeting at a wedding to getting together?” he asked.

She glanced at him, his eyes trained on the road. The shiny silver band on his forth finger catching the light.

“Day after the wedding, there was a very hungover lunch and a walk where I stupidly rolled my ankle and you took care of me.”

“Damn right I did. Because I’m a fucking gent like that,” he chuckled, shooting her a quick smile, the corners of his eyes crinkling in a way that made something swoop in her stomach.

She fiddled with the (very fake) diamond rings on her finger, the feeling of them still weighing strangely.

“How much of this sort of stuff have you done?”

“What, surveillance, or undercover?”

“Either.”

He shrugged, slowing behind a cyclist out enjoying the warm weather. “A bit. I mean, I’d done a fair few ops like this before…”

“Before you crashed Stansted and were exiled in disgrace?”

He pulled a face at her, darting around the cyclist. “It was—”

“A training exercise, I know, I’m only kidding you on. It’s not like I’m not languishing in disgrace with you.”

He flicked a quick glance her way, seeing her brushing back her dark hair with a hint of embarrassment.

“Are you ever going to tell me why you’re in Slough House?”

She looked at him, lips in a tight line. “River, you’re a spy. If you want to know, you’ll have to figure it out for yourself.” Turning slightly more towards him, she tried to contain a grin. “Or maybe you’re just not as good a spook as you think you are.”

“Better than you,” he scoffed.

“Well when you figure it out, you can let me know.”

He followed the satnav and turned onto another road, the sea suddenly twinkling on the horizon.

“Oh how pretty,” she smiled. “I haven’t been down this way for years.”

“Me neither.”

“We used to come here all the time when I was kid. Well, here and Cornwall.” She rolled down the window, in the hopes of letting the summer air tinged with salt drift into the car, only to be hit with a heavy waft of cow manure from the fields they were passing.

“Oh fuck! Shut that before we pass out!” he laughed, pinching his nose as she hurriedly pressed the button to close it again.

“Don’t be such a baby, it’s just the countryside.”

“Yeah, well, unlike your country bumpkin self, I grew up in London. And the countryside can keep it.”

“Yes, because the capital is often so fragrant. I do love the smell of piss on the breeze in the morning.”

He threw her a look and she met it by sticking out her tongue.

“Mature.”

“I am. Shame about you.”

“Hatts…” he muttered warningly.

“No, no. We’re almost there, so I think you should call me Robin from now on. Get in the groove with it…. Glenn.”

He didn’t have to look sideways to feel her grin.

“Ok, when we get there we have to set up and be ready for Changretta arriving. He’s being tailed to the hotel so if anything happens before he gets here we’ll know about it, but the Park thinks it’s unlikely.” She checked her notes. “And then he’s got dinner in the hotel at eight fifteen so we have a reservation for eight o’clock.”

“Do we have any more intel on whether it’s just him and her, or are they expecting guests?”

She shook her head. “No, nothing. Table is booked for two but I guess we need to be ready for anything.”

*****

Twenty minutes later, River pulled the car off the road that ran along the sweeping bay, crunching over gravel in front of the beautiful old stone building, frontage weathered by years of bracing sea air.

“Fuck… this place must cost a bomb…” muttered Hattie, looking up at the tall Georgian windows in quiet wonder. “Expect people like you, stay in places like this all the time?”

“What’s that supposed to mean? People like me?”

She shrugged as he pulled into an empty space.

“Oh come off it, River, with your grandad do you really expect me to believe your family wasn’t loaded? I bet you weren’t freezing your arse off camping or in a caravan.”

He bristled slightly. “Think what you like but we weren’t. My mum… well she lives a different kind of lifestyle.” Cutting the engine, he twisted to look at her. “Anyway, game time. You ready?”

She blew out a breath and nodded, wishing the nerves in her stomach would fuck off.

Climbing out of the car, she stretched her stiff limbs, taking the opportunity to get a surreptitious look at their surroundings. Only one way in and out of the guest car park but there would be access at the rear for deliveries and the like. And only five other cars - all much fancier than River’s - currently in the car park but it was still early.

River joined her, toting their small cases, smiling warmly.

“What do you think?”

“It’s amazing,” she beamed back, trying to take her case but he shook his head, gesturing for her to go on ahead.

The grand old foyer was immaculate, large displays of fresh flowers giving off a soft scent as they passed.

“Checking in?” asked the young man at reception.

“Yes, Waterford,” replied Hattie, River standing close beside her. She almost jumped as a large warm hand settled on her hip, gently pulling her back against him.

There was a certain amount of keyboard tapping before the man looked up again.

“Ah yes, Mr and Mrs Waterford–”

“Still getting used to hearing that,” grinned River and she forced a giggle, feeling him press a kiss against her temple.

The receptionist smiled. “We have you with us for three nights and we’re delighted to offer you a complimentary upgrade to our honeymoon suite.”

Hattie couldn’t stop her eyebrows shooting skyward. She’d just assumed that the Service would have arranged for them to have separate adjoining rooms or something - not actually having to pretend to be married even behind closed doors.

“That’s amazing, isn’t it darling?” prompted River, squeezing her hip.

“Yes! Wow, thank you, that’s so kind,” she enthused, pulling herself together.

“And your parcels arrived earlier and have been left in your room, along with some gifts from us to congratulate you on your marriage,” the young man smiled, pushing a piece of paper towards River. “If I could just have your signature, Mr Waterford, and we’ll need a credit card for incidentals.”

As River let go of her, fishing around in his pocket for his cards, Hattie looked around the ornately decorated space. A huge sweeping staircase led to above, and she could see doors to the bar and restaurant beyond, and another corridor that led towards the spa. There were plenty of cosy nooks and groups of invitingly squashy sofas and armchairs, some clustered around fireplaces that screamed winter comfort. It was beautiful, but was going to be a nightmare to track Changretta through and follow their instructions to be entirely inconspicuous. He’d clearly chosen the location with care.

“Alright, that’s all gone through, here’s your key.” He handed a small key on a heavy brass fob to Hattie. The old fashioned affectation would make it a lot easier for them to pick the locks at least. “The lifts are just around to the left behind the staircase. Do you require any help with your luggage?”

They declined and set off for the lifts, dragging a case each.

Objectively, the honeymoon suite was ridiculously beautiful - enormous bay windows housed a little seating area that overlooked the sea, which was glittering in the late afternoon sunlight. And if she’d been here on an actual holiday - or actual honeymoon - she’d have been beyond thrilled.

As it was, however, she was less than thrilled to be trapped in a single room, with only one (albeit, huge) bed, with the colleague she was working very hard to pretend she’d never had sex with.

“You need to cool it with the PDA, Cartwright,” she grumbled as soon as they were safely behind closed doors.

“We’re supposed to be fucking newlyweds, we have to act like it.”

“Yeah well, unless you want my trusty letter-opener in your guts you’ll keep your hands to yourself.”

He rolled his eyes and started opening the discretely packaged equipment that had been sent for them by the Park. Once Changretta arrived and they knew what room he was in, they would have to break in and install listening devices so they could keep tabs on him.

“How could they not give us separate rooms?” Hattie continued complaining as he methodically separated the tiny devices for planting, from the things they would need to keep in their room. “Or twin beds at the very least! Do they really expect me to share a bed with you??”

He sighed heavily, biting his tongue, as she walked around, inspecting a small sofa in the window.

“You can sleep on this.”

“No fucking way! You’re shorter than me - you can sleep on it if you’re going to be such a princess about sharing a bed.”

She sucked in a breath, hands on her hips. “No way! I thought you were, and I quote, ‘a fucking gent like that’??”

He straightened, pushing a hand through his hair. “Glenn might be, but I’m not throwing my back out just because you’re having a hissy fit. It’s a massive fucking bed, there’s plenty of room for both of us to be able to pretend the other person isn’t even there.”

She balled her fists. “Fine! But given how handsy you’re feeling, we’re putting pillows down the middle.”

“For fuck’s sake, Larkin! I was trying to be a fucking professional and be in character. You could at least meet me halfway!”

“Oh for crying out—”

“Ssshhh!” River waved his hands at her to shut up.

“Don’t you tell me—”

She shut her mouth as an audible creek emanated from just outside their door.

“Oh fuck.. I swear to god if we’ve been made before this has even started…” she groaned quietly as footsteps disappeared.

Sticking his head round the door, he checked the hallway.

“It was just housekeeping,” he said as he shut the door again. “But we should be more careful. No more yelling.”

“I wasn’t the one yelling,” she mumbled and he shot her a glare. “God, I was kidding, River.”

“Just come and help me with this stuff, yeah? We need to get sorted so we can go and loiter downstairs.”

*****

To their immense frustration, Luca Changretta didn’t turn up until almost seven o’clock. At risk of being obviously loitering near reception, they had to take it in turns to roam the hotel, the other perched carefully by the window of their room, which afforded a helpful view over the main entrance.

I think he’s here

The text from Cartwright flashed up on her phone and she put down the book she wasn’t reading and finished the coffee she’d been nursing for forty-five minutes, grimacing at the cold dregs. Pretending to check her phone she saw a tall, dark haired, handsome man striding across reception, with a small, brunette at his side. Her dark cat-like stare roved the room and Hattie quickly had to avert her gaze.

Call me, she texted back and her phone began to vibrate.

“What’s wrong?”

“Hi mum,” Hattie smiled cheerily, seeing the woman with Chagretta glancing her way. “Yeah we got here fine, it’s gorgeous.” Boredom filled the woman’s pretty face and her gaze slid past Hattie, ignoring her again.

“Is there something wrong? Did he make you?”

“No, no, the journey was grand.”

“Larkin..”

“How’s grandad? Have you been to see him today?”

“You what??”

Catching Changretta’s eye as he turned towards her voice she made sympathetic noises into the phone, twisting away slightly, seeing him go back to focusing on the receptionist in one of the many mirrors. In her ear, River kept asking inane questions.

“Ssshh, I’m trying to listen,” she hissed as quietly as she could, covering it with a louder, “Oh well, that’s good news at least.”

“You’re in the Harbour Suite, Mr Sarratore,” smiled the same receptionist who had checked them in earlier. “The lifts are just behind the staircase. Do you need any help with your luggage?”

“I’d better go mum, Glenn’s waiting for me. Give my love to dad,” Hattie said, as Changretta began to head towards the lifts, hanging up before River could reply.

“He’s in the Harbour Suite under the name Sarratore,” she announced as she shut the door of their room. “It’s only two doors down from here so we should get clear reception from the bugs.”

“You could have texted what you were doing,” River grumbled from his spot, reclining on the bed.

“There wasn’t time, his little woman friend was looking.”

“So much for being discrete.”

She shrugged, toeing off her trainers. “We’re staying in the same hotel, they’re bound to run into us.” She paused, eyeing him. “I see you picked a side of the bed.”

He sighed. “Let me guess, this is your side, right?”

She shook her head, opening the wardrobe, flicking through the stuff she’d brought, trying to pick an outfit for that evening. “No, you already know I sleep on the other.” She pulled out a dark green dress. “What do you think? Would Robin wear this to dinner?”

Forgive me but I couldn’t help myself a little ‘but there was only one bed!’ action 🤭 I’d love to know your thoughts and your engagement is fuel to my fire ♥️ xx

☕️ Enjoyed this story? Why not buy me a coffee - Ko-Fi

Masterlists: SLOW HORSES | SERIES | MAIN

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@kmc1989 , @shopgirl6us (unable to tag), @randomnerdyfan , @bouncydragon , @anberb11 (unable to tag), @myalignmentischaoticdumbass (unable to tag) , @r0ckstardr3amgal , @donotnomi

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#zablife recommends #nerdalert🚨

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zablife · 4 days

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@cillmequick So I still haven't watched the show, but I'm fairly certain there's a new blorbo on my horizon thanks to your brilliant new series 🤭 I'm all caught up and ready to discuss!

I'm already loving the dynamic between Hattie and River 😍 I'll admit it wasn't what I originally anticipated based on the hurt/comfort of ch 1. The passion of that encounter was lovely, but I'm absolutely living for the playful enemies to lovers vibe they have atm. I could listen to their banter all day!

And I love the moodboard you created to accompany the series! You've described everything beautifully, but I still like having a representation of what you see in your mind. Thanks for sharing!

Masterlist: Slow Horses / Peaky Blinders Crossover

River Cartwright x Hattie Larkin (oc)

Summary

Hattie Larkin is a Slow Horse, an MI5 fuck up exiled to the place they call Slough House, because even though it’s still in London, it might as well be in Slough. Sharing an office with River Cartwright, the poster boy of spook failure, she thinks her life can’t get any worse.

Except it can. Of course it can. And as if it wasn’t bad enough that she’s accidentally killed a high ranking criminal with connections to a certain Birmingham based crime family, she’s only gone and fucked River Cartwright too.

Fuck.

Warnings

This story will contain blood, violence and a lot of smutty stuff. All chapters have their own warnings section so please engage as you are comfortable - your reading choices are your responsibility. Chapters marked with 🔞 contain adult themes. Respectfully, minors DNI.

Story

Part 1: Distraction Techniques 🔞

Part 2: The Waterfords

Part 3: Coming soon

Moodboards & Other Bits

Hattie and River in Devon

Credits

🔍 Dividers by the talented @/firefly-graphics

🔍 Obviously none of the characters from either show belong to me but the rest of the story does and I do not give permission for it to be copied, reposted elsewhere or used for AI training without my consent.

#zablife recommends #nerdalert🚨

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zablife · 4 days

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zablife · 4 days

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@look-at-the-soul Tysm, Mar! It's true that dark!Tommy is quite possessive with very few limits. Taking control over Y/n's life was no exception. I'm glad you enjoyed my twisted little tale! It seems to be what people are requesting most often these days, but I'm not complaining 😈

Lee! Hope you're doing well 💋 so I so your prompt for the requests and if you're feeling inspired with this what about?

- ❛ I’ve killed for you. Who else can say that? ❜

with Tommy?

The Debt

Warning: Dark!Tommy 💀, mention of gun, blood, murder, trauma

You bit your hand to keep from screaming as the man in the long, black overcoat pushed you inside your small bedsit. The door slammed behind you as you stumbled toward the window, pushing the lace curtains aside with trembling fingertips. The remnants of blood were still there on the cobblestones beside the alley, though it was quickly being washed away in the driving rain.

Your memories of the violence carried out in your name would not be erased so easily. The bile rose in your throat as you thought of each shot striking its target, blood gushing over the pavement and splattering onto your shoes. You looked down to see the evidence of the stains that had ruined your new boots, an odd sensation washing over you as though you were staring at someone else's feet rather than your own.

"Come away from the window, love," a low voice rumbled across the room like thunder.

Your body shuddered involuntarily at the noise, a hand gripping the window ledge to keep upright. Feet uncooperative as your mind, you attempted to reply, but found yourself unable to dislodge the words from your brain. You shook your head fiercely, but the cotton headed feeling wouldn't budge.

The man scoffed at your disobedience, removing his coat to wrap around your shoulders protectively. He clamped a large hand over your shoulder, guiding you toward the little table in the corner. As he handed over a flask, he instructed, "Sit down and have some of this. It'll steady your nerves."

Suddenly you heard yourself stutter, "I...d-d-don't drink."

"Alright, tea then," he conceded. "Where do you keep it?" He leaned over you, eyebrow raised in question until your finger pointed in the direction of a far cupboard.

As he turned away, his gun came into view and your heart began to hammer at your ribcage until you thought you might faint. Pressing your fingers to your temples, you closed your eyes and attempted deep breaths. Eventually you pushed them out in labored waves, though your body was quickly wracked by sobs.

"Hey, hey...there's no need for tears," you heard the deep voice begin to soothe as you felt a warm cup being pressed into your palms.

Looking up through watery eyes, you sniffed, "Who are you? What do you want?"

Taking a seat opposite you, the man's crystalline blue eyes locked onto yours intently as he introduced himself as Tommy Shelby. "You don't know who I am?"

"No," you admitted. "I've only just arrived this week."

Tommy rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "That's what I thought. You'd never have taken that short cut if you'd known the sorts of bastards lurking."

A draft blowing through the crack in the windowsill crept across the back of your neck at that moment, triggering a phantom feeling of icy fingers upon your throat and you startled losing your grip on the china.

Tommy caught the cup before it landed on the floor, hissing as the hot liquid scalded his hands.

"I'm sorry, I felt his hands..." you mumbled, fingers tracing the delicate skin where the man from the alley had grabbed you.

"You've had a shock," Tommy stated, cleaning himself off with a rag. "But you needn't worry any longer. You're under my protection now." He stood with a determined nod, gathering his cap and placing it on his head.

For the first time that evening your shoulders relaxed and you breathed a sigh of relief. With a bit of effort, you banished the terrifying images of what you'd seen and tried to find good in the intimidating man before you. You even began convincing yourself it was fate that brought him to look after you in your new city.

However, as you stood to remove Mr. Shelby's coat, he casually announced, “You can bring it tomorrow when you see me about repaying your debt.” Then he proffered a business card.

You stared up at his chiseled face, partially covered in shadow. Unable to tell if he were serious. "I don't understand,” you admitted with a puzzled look.

Clicking his tongue disapprovingly, he pulled on a pair of black leather gloves. “So forgetful all of a sudden, aren't we," he scolded.

Your throat went dry, constricting painfully when you tried to swallow. "What do you mean?"

The leather cracked menacingly as he reached out to caress the apple of your cheek with the back of his hand. "I've killed for you. Who else can say that?" he reminded you in a voice far too flat and calm to offer affection.

Your eyes went wide as you searched his darkening pupils, panic shooting down your spine as you thought of what awaited you at the address printed on the card. The bit of paper shook violently in your hand as his thumb grazed your lips, leaving a powerful promise in his wake. "I've done something for you, now it's your turn."

When you bristled beneath his touch, he leaned toward your ear, a hiss escaping on his whisky scented breath. "I could return you to that alley if you like, but I think you'll find this arrangement far better." He turned without giving you a chance to protest. There was no need for once you owed a debt to Tommy Shelby, he owned you for life.

---------------

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#comment rb #MARgate🌊

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