#tommy is not a replacement for charlie by any means

[lis-likes-fics]

A Deal’s a Deal

Pairings: Tommy Shelby x Gold!Reader Word Count: 11.7k words Warnings: NSFW, smut, swearing, smoking, oral (f and m!receiving), dom/sub themes, degradation, virgin!reader, gun kink, dirty talk, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, Tommy is mean and she wants him to be ... A/N: So this was absolutely filthy and I will not apologize. I am American, but I used to British spelling for (as many of) the words that I caught because sometimes I like it better and it also just fit more for the fic. Also, when I say “gun kink”, I mean gun kink. This is filthy shit. Who knows? I may consider writing a second... Enjoy.

Keen eyes were the first thing Tommy noticed as Aberama Gold walked onto the yard, a sly smirk set in place among blond hair and a suit likely just as expensive as his own. The way his eyes surveyed the yard, examined every inch he could without touching any of it, even stopping by Charlie for a word, made Tommy aware it was for more than just surveillance.

Aberama finally approached, his men following after with their own vigilance. "I just took a look around. I like this place," he announced. "Fire for melting silver, canal to get it away." He stopped in front of him, well out of reach but just as imposing as the growing headache Tommy felt nagging at the back of his head. "How much?"

Tommy took a long look at him, still as a statue as blue eyes pierced through blue eyes. He considered not even regarding the question, moving on to more pressing business and pretending it had never been asked, but he knew better. Arthur drank from his flask.

"Nothing you see here is for sale, Mr. Gold."

He disagreed. "Oh, everything's for sale. Everything."

Tommy pinched his cigarette between his fingers, bringing it to his lips but not quite slipping it through yet. Aberama spilled the rest of the tea in his cup into the fire, which roared with the fuel to its flames.

"You tell Mr. Strong I'm going to buy his yard." He didn't leave room for debate.

But Tommy didn't care. "This yard has been in his family since they settled." He moved the cigarette between his lips.

"But I've decided to make it a part of our deal."

There was a long pause as the men stared each other down, testing the other's strength, their tolerance of cold eyes. The sounds of metal and fire and cups on tables next to them filled the silence and fueled the suspense of a standoff.

"Charlie?" Tommy finally spoke, calling to his uncle. "Charlie, come here." He obliged with a sigh. As he stood next to him with a dirty rag to clean dirty hands, Tommy continued. "Gonna spin a coin for your yard, Charlie."

Frustration was quick to settle at his words. He dropped his hands at his sides. "You're goin' to what?"

Tommy didn't spare him a glance, never breaking contact with Aberama as he spoke. "If it's heads, Abbie here takes all of this with my blessing."

"Tommy?" Charlie warned, upset.

"And if it's tails…" he considered for a moment, gesturing to Aberama with his cigarette in hand, "I fuck your daughter, Mr. Gold."

Aberama's grin fell. Arthur laughed, a stifled laugh into his arm at the offer. Tommy's demeanour did not change.

Now, Tommy was a smart man who did his research. He knew all about Aberama Gold's family, but more specifically about his daughter—and, even more specifically, about his oldest. He knew she was a primary school teacher, how that came to be, he was sure it was with the help of her father. He knew she was Aberama's firstborn, born from another woman he'd fallen for but lost too quick to be left without love. Lastly, he knew she was without a husband, or even a suitor with the potential of wedding bells. With how beautiful you had been rumoured to be, he didn't understand it.

He was shocked he hadn't already had you yet.

"You have three daughters, I hear, and Y/N is the oldest and also the prettiest, so I'll have her. So make her part of the deal and spin against the yard." He replaced his cigarette between his lips, putting his hands in his pockets.

Arthur was still amused. The same could not be said for Charlie as he stepped closer. "Tommy, for fuck's sake."

Tommy fished for a coin in his pocket, flicking it over. "Here, you toss the coin, Mr. Gold."

He caught it easily, staring down Tommy before moving the coin in his palm to examine it thoughtfully. Then he smiled, a slow smile spreading over his lips, ready to call a bluff.

Tommy shook his head, just as serious and solemn as before as he took in his grin. "No." He shook his head, raising a finger to point at him with grim intent. "Please don't believe this is a joke, the coin to us is sacred. Yes, Arthur?"

"Sacred," Arthur agreed, his eyes as still and as menacing as his brother's.

They continued to stare. Aberama continued to think.

Tommy gave his warning. "You toss that coin, you take a bet before witnesses, and if I win…"

"Then we'll insist that the terms of this agreement…" Arthur tried again, "wager are fulfilled."

Tommy's eyes held a threat. "Toss the coin, Mr. Gold."

Aberama considered, setting the coin on the crook of his finger and propping his thumb underneath. He contemplated, debating himself and his luck silently as the sounds of metal and fire raged against the silence and pulled the tension taut. Loud, defeaning.

"Tommy Shelby, OBE," he mumbled, still considering. Tommy saw the moment of decision behind his eyes before it reached his face. The challenge, the question of "Perhaps?" warring in his mind. Aberama smiled a small smile. "I'll take your wager."

The Shelby boys tilted up their heads.

Aberama flipped the coin into the air, watching as it twirled and twirled and twirled. The coin made its descent into his hands and he sighed as he closed his palm and slapped it onto the back of his hand. The coin seared his flesh as he stared at Tommy, hoping to see the right side of the coin staring back at him when he unveiled the result.

They stared, tense. "Well?" Tommy raised a brow.

Aberama removed his hand.

And his luck drained as he stared down at the coin tails up to the world.

He lingered for a moment, feeling the eyes on him burning into his skin just as the coin did. "...Congratulations, Mr. Shelby," he breathed. He took the coin and showed the boys. "Tails."

Tommy's lip twitched, although it was hardly susceptible to the eye. "Tails," he repeated, his voice darker than before. He readjusted his stance, regarding Aberama as he spoke to the uncle at his side. "Go on back to work, Charlie. Your yard is safe."

Charlie stepped closer, asking the question as though he was whispering it just to him. "Are you actually going to fuck his daughter, Tom?"

Tommy still didn't look at Charlie, watching Aberama intensely, as if to remind him that this was all his fault.

People seemed to forget who he was. They seemed to forget that you shouldn't fuck around with Tommy fucking Shelby, OBE.

"A deal's a deal, Charlie," he said. "Isn't that right, Mr. Gold?"

He stared back with fire in his eyes. "Aye, Mr. Shelby."

~

The cab slowed to a stop in front of the large estate you were an expected guest in. Looking out of the window and through the dark, your stomach flipped at the prospect of the meeting you were meant to attend.

Your father had told you that the infamous Thomas Shelby was interested in meeting you. You were grading loads of papers at the time when you stopped to look at him, frozen in confusion. You asked him why and he brushed off the topic like he hadn't even brought it up, giving you a time and date and leaving it at that.

And now you're here, staring at his house and feeling the anxiety of how this evening would go as you stepped out of the car and watched him drive off. You fixed your dress, straightened your spine, and released a breath before beginning the looming evening with a walk up to the door through the dark, guided only by the lamps outside.

You clicked the knocker three times, waiting with your clutch held tightly in front of you. As the door was pulled open, you were somehow relieved to be met with an older woman. Though her blue eyes were shocking and her quirked brow was intimidating, she offered a kind smile and you were put to ease.

You really shouldn't have been as anxious as you were. You were a Gold and a gypsy—if something bad was going to happen to you, you would know and you wouldn't be there in the first place.

But this was Thomas Shelby, and you were terrified. He was rumoured to be the devil himself.

The woman opened the door wider. "Hello." She looked you up and down before stepping aside. "Come in."

You thanked her quietly, walking into the house and glancing around. It was nice. "How may I help you this late in the night?" she wondered, clasping her hands behind her as she awaited your answer.

"Um…" You smiled bashfully but not without the air of respect you've grown into and been taught to demand. "I don't actually know why I'm here. My father, Aberama Gold, sent me to see Tommy Shelby. I am to have an appointment with him?"

She hummed, "Of course. Wait here while I go fetch him." She began to walk off before correcting herself, looking back at you with a respectful smile. "Would you like a cup of tea while you wait?"

"No, thank you."

She left.

You stood in the foyer, twiddling your thumbs atop your clutch as your heart skips in your chest. With a calming breath, you steadied yourself, closing your eyes and waiting patiently.

You swung a foot out, taking a step forward as you wandered farther down the hall to see inside the main room. It was large, decorated sparsely with paintings and tiny statuettes. You didn't get a good look.

When she came back, she was not alone. Turning at the sound of shoes descending stairs, you saw him.

He still wore a suit. Although his jacket was removed, his timepiece was still in place connected to its chain. His sleeves were rolled up—you weren't sure why you noticed that so clearly.

He stared at you with a cigarette between his lips as his cold, blue eyes pierced your soul. Your heart jumped again. Anxious.

He watched you, looking you up and down and taking you in. He brought his hand up to remove his cigarette from between his lips, releasing a long, smoky breath. The look in his eyes shook you.

"Thank you, Mary." His voice was deep as it rumbled in his chest. "You can go to bed now."

Mary looked you up and down briefly. She bowed her head. "Yes, sir."

You didn't break eye contact with Tommy as she ascended the stairs. Even when she was completely gone, he didn't look away. The intensity of his gaze was hard to keep up.

You looked away.

"Come," he finally spoke, walking down the rest of the stairs and meeting you. He lingered in front of you for a moment, as if he just wanted a closer look, before continuing to move. You willed your feet to do so, following slowly behind him.

He took you to his study just off from the main room, pushing the door open to allow you inside. You entered silently, glancing along the room to take it in. He had a library, a burning fireplace, plenty of sofas, and a large wall of windows. The drapes were already drawn for the night, and the large room was illuminated by a small chandelier. You set your purse on the nearest table.

You watched Tommy walk toward his desk in front of the windows. He leaned on it, crossing one leg in front of the other. He stared at you again, and you quickly became frustrated with his gaze as you sighed gently and stood across from him, keeping plenty of distance.

Silence stretched on as he continued to stare and smoke, and you were growing impatient as you stared back. The longer he watched you, unyielding, the more you felt the need to squirm. It was only when you broke his eye contact again, like you had before on the stairs, that he decided to speak.

"Do you know why you're here, Miss Gold?" he asked.

Now that this was finally going somewhere, you sighed. "Y/N, and no," you replied.

He raised his brows. "What did your father tell you, Y/N?"

You shrugged. "That you wanted to meet me and nothing else." His vagueness was really beginning to frustrate you after enduring all of that staring. Why had he stared for so long?

Tommy hummed deep in his chest, looking you up and down with a little nod of his head. He put it bluntly as he gestured toward you with his cigarette. "Your father lied."

It was your turn to raise your brows. "I'm sorry?"

Tommy reached behind him to put his cigarette out, stifling it against the ashtray on his desk. "Your father flipped a coin for a bit of property and lost. In return," he looked at you again, speaking slowly, "he gave you to me to fuck."

Your heart was slamming into your ribcage at the knowledge. Images of such a thing flashed behind your eyes, and your throat went dry. You looked down at your shoes for a moment, blinking rapidly as you stretched your jaw. "I-I don't understand," you confessed, releasing a humourless chuckle and licking your lips. "He… he wouldn't do that."

"Wouldn't he?" he shrugged. When you didn't reply, he furrowed his brows. "Why else would you be here?"

You still didn't respond. He allowed you to process, though part of you felt like he was enjoying all of this, and you did not.

The anticipation started at your heart and spread through your body as it made a home in your chest, curling and writhing there in a bundle of anxious energy.

You swallowed thickly, "Are you going to hurt me, Mr. Shelby?"

He considered your question, mumbling quietly to himself as though he was mocking you, "Am I going to hurt you?" His eyes raked over your body, considering something silently in his head before he spoke again. "Come here."

You didn't move, otherwise frozen in place as you stared at him. Your disobedience seemed to astound him for a moment as he raised his dark brows and pointed to his shoes. "Here. Now." His voice was deeper with the command. He left no room for defiance.

Your body responded before your mind, not eager to see what would happen if you refused a second time. Your feet took you carefully toward him, slow steps treading the space between you until you were hardly a foot apart from him. His expression seemed to ease then, just enough to tell you that you were close enough now.

He took in your face from this distance. You could almost feel his breath. He spoke to you in a low voice, one that rumbled deep in his chest and resonated with you.

"I am a devil, but I'm no monster." Where you expected a crook of his finger to lift your chin, he gave you his hand to take a hold of your jaw and pull you close. "I won't force myself upon you, but if you agree to this, I will not be gentle. So, yes… I am going to hurt you."

You didn't respond—you couldn't. His words echoed in your mind and your mind warred with your body over what you would do in response and, thus, created none. You were frozen, staring at him as he held your face in a slight grip and held your attention in a much tighter one. You forget the fire burning smoke up its chimney. You forget the rows and rows of books lining the shelves of the office. You forget the clothes on your back, for his stare had stripped you bare for him to see.

He let go of your face, but you were not sure how well your brain registered that as you lingered in the same position, gripped in the same attention.

"If you want to leave," he said after a moment, "you'd better walk out of that door right now under the lie that the wager between your father and me was fulfilled. Hell, I'll even make you a cup of tea while you wait, and you can be on your way."

You considered that option. It would be like you never even came—except you did. And you knew you did. The stain of his stare, the hole he had burned into your clothes, into your skin, would never wash away. You would feel it every hour of every day as a reminder of the time you met the Tommy Shelby and lived not to tell the tale.

"But if you stay…" the corner of his lip twitched up at the idea, his pupils darkened and his voice deepened, "you're not leaving until I say you can." Even with their simplicity, his words made you shiver.

"Now, I will ask you once and one time only…" he leaned forward, his head very slightly tilted, his nose nearly brushing yours, "Are you leaving?"

As if you could say no with him this close to you. As if you could say anything with him this close to you.

Your options were idiotic.

Leave and live with the memories you gained here—the closeness, the silent obedience, the cold stare you could never wash from your soul. You would always feel it, feel him. He would never go away, plaguing your mind like a ghost of what could have been.

Or…you could stay. You could stay here and see what happened. You could let him ravage you, let him tear you apart and lick at your flesh and bone as he took you under his primal gaze. You could succumb to the ice in his eyes and let the burn of his touch mix together in some powerful, searing concoction. You would never wash his stain off, no matter how hard you scrubbed, but some part of you was alright with that.

And Tommy seemed to see that in your eyes.

He was amused as he shook his head, leaning back and away from you. He was teasing, you knew it now, heavily amused by the tiny reactions he earned from you as he pulled away to make you suffer a hint of withdrawal. It was with that distance that you realised you'd fallen in his trap, gone in too deep to turn back and be rescued from this tragic and ungodly addiction.

"No, you're not," he said—and, for a moment, you forget what he was talking about. "I can see it in your eyes, the same look your father had before he flipped that coin. You want to know what'll happen if you stay."

You seemed to snap out of it almost as you took a step back, establishing a bit more space as he revealed things you didn't want revealed. In doing so, you proved his point.

"You know exactly what happens if you leave. You go back to your regular life as a school teacher with siblings and a father to take care of." He chuckled silently, and you clenched your teeth. "No, you want to see how far this will go."

He raked his eyes over you for the hundredth time, and he knew the rumours were true. Pretty eyes, pretty lashes, pretty lips, pretty blushy cheeks. There was not a flaw on you that he could see. You were a beauty, an unconquered beauty he intended not to leave uncharted.

You looked away from him, glancing down between your feet and your hands and anywhere but his face as you processed his words, digesting them for what they were—the ugly truth you wished you could throw a blanket back over, swept back under the rug and hidden from view.

Tommy tilted his head as something dawned on him.

"Are you a virgin, Y/N?"

You kept your eyes on the ground, like you were watching his shoes—which you probably are—and shook your head. "I change my mind. You can call me Miss Gold." He could almost laugh at the idea, in fact, he almost did laugh. You brought yourself to look at him, your eyes stern with poorly hidden dismay. "And if I was?"

It made sense. No husband, no suitor, no time for one anyway. His lip lifted very slightly in the corner, and it felt like he was laughing at you. "The proper phrasing is 'and if you are?'" He leaned in, taunting you. "Because you are, Y/N."

You huffed to keep your eyes from fluttering at the effect he had on you. "How do you know?" you asked, doing your best not to sound as upset as you were. Your best was very poor.

He breathed a silent chuckle. "Because if I say the word 'sex'..."

You licked your lips and shifted your weight to your other leg, realising your mistake as soon as you made it but not showing it. You glanced away from him, and that was when you showed the realisation of your second mistake.

He pointed at you, ever amused. "You do that."

You thought for a moment over a way to say your next words without confessing anything—even if you knew it would be rendered unnecessary, as he seemed to read you like an open book.

"What if I did want to see what would happen?"

He inclined his head, lifting a brow. A small huff of a breath made up a tiny chuckle at your words. "Look at you," he said. "A good girl so bored she wants a go with a gangster."

You shrugged a shoulder. "All my family's gangsters and gypsies. It's in my blood."

He stared at you, cold and frozen like a statue. You stared back, gaze darting from eye to eye.

"In your blood," he muttered to himself.

You had no time to process what happened next. All you felt was his hand on the back of your neck and then your cheek against the cold wood of his desk. You groaned at the suddenness of it, stunning you completely—especially when his body pressed against the back of yours, crushing you against the desk and keeping you there.

Your breath was erratic, your pulse loud in your ears. Everything had happened so quickly, you were still catching up. The only thing that grounded you was the cold shock of something against the back of your head and the cock of a gun in your ears.

It was all suddenly very real—the anticipation, the suspense. You held your breath.

"Maybe I lied," he rasped in your ear, his voice just as dangerous as his gun to your head. "Maybe I want to see what's in your blood instead, eh?"

Your lips parted as shallow breaths passed between them, loud in your ears but likely nearly silent to him. You swallowed hard, frightened and exhilarated. "You're not going to kill me, Mr. Shelby."

"Oh, yeah? Why is that?" He seemed to press the gun even closer, trying to scare you some more. But you were a Gold, and guns to heads were not as effective to you as it might have been to someone else from a family that wasn't yours.

"Because you want to see what will happen."

Surprised by your answer, he scoffed. "Maybe you are a whore." He pushed his hips harder into you, thus pushing you harder against the desk. The edge of the wood cut into your thighs, aching and proving very uncomfortable. A strained breath grunted from you.

You smiled slyly, looking back at him as best you could. "Which is it?" you chuckled, "Whore or virgin?"

He took pause, shaking his head as he uncocked the gun. "No," he chuckled darkly. "Just a twisted little girl who gets off to guns at her head."

Your smirk dropped, amusement gone at his words. You furrow your brow, thoroughly upset that he would accuse you of something so crude. "I don't."

"No?" he asked before leaning in closer, his lips brushing the shell of your ear and making you shiver. "Then why are you so wet?"

You stilled. You hadn't realised it until he said it, the wetness between your thighs, the arousal hiding beneath your thundering pulse. That tingling sensation of simmering lust was now weighing down on you like an anvil, a terrible sentence you wanted to escape but found yourself physically incapable of. Your legs trembled, but you couldn't tell if it was from the ice or the fire rushing through your veins. God forbid it be both.

Your silence made him smirk against your ear. "You really are," he scoffed again. "That was just a guess, sweetheart."

You huffed, doing everything you could to avoid clenching your thighs. With how close he was to you, his body pressed against you so tightly, he'd surely feel it. The shame was thick enough as it was.

"Fuck you," you spat.

He was not fazed by your aggression. "I intend to."

With a sudden burst of defiance, you pushed yourself up from the desk, turning around to face him. Your faces were so close, breathing in each other's scent as the both of you refused to back down. You heard him uncock his gun, tossing it onto the table behind you without breaking eye contact.

"This isn't the first time I've had a gun to my head, nor will it be the last," you told him. "And it's definitely not the first time a man's expressed his desire to fuck me."

"But it's the first time he's been able to, eh? Because before you had Daddy's protection." His hand landed on your waist, roughly pulling you toward him so your bodies were touching. It was useless to try to hide to fluster he put you in, but you did your best anyway. His voice was nearly a growl. "Well, where is he now?"

You shook your head, breathing shallow breaths. "I don't need his protection."

His smirk was small and taunting as he stared at you, his eyes darting between your eyes and your lips.

"You do from me."

His lips crashed down upon yours as he pulled you close. Your surprised gasp was cut off, silenced by his harsh kiss. The feeling was foreign but not entirely unwelcome. Even as the force of his lips had his teeth smashing yours, cutting into the top of your own lip and greeting you with the taste of blood, you welcomed it.

You kissed back, moving your lips with his and following his lead but doing no more than that. Even if you had already compromised yourself, it would help not to encourage him.

When he pulled away from you, you chased his lips and felt the shame of it hot on your cheeks. He smiled at your eagerness, even chuckled at your breathlessness as he shook his head.

"My, my," he goaded. "You really do want this, you twisted little whore."

You shivered at his words and still denied. "And if I don't?" you countered, practically staring at his pink lips and proving him right.

He shook his head. "You should've walked out that door."

He kissed you again, silencing you once more until his lips had a moan clawing up your throat. He placed a hand on your chest, pulling you forward just a slight from turning you in one arm and shoving you back.

You stumbled backward, catching your footing again as you stared at him between the long distance he had put between the both of you. It surprised you and now you were trying to put your mind back in order, as though it hadn't been scrambled enough from his kiss.

"If you want to go so badly, prove it to me." He pointed to the door, urging you to leave with dark eyes and darker words. "Run. Run away, before I catch you."

You stared at him, catching your breath and contemplating. He was giving you one last chance for an out, one last chance to turn away and forget about tonight.

But you could never forget what happened here, especially not now, and not ever. Staring back at his dangerous eyes, you made your choice, knowing there was no turning back.

So you would prove that you wanted to stay as you trudged the distance between you and closed it with your lips on his, addicted to the taste of him—the taste of danger and intrigue and all things twisted in the world.

His hand cupped the back of your head as he opted to devour you, allowing your fingers to work at the buttons of his vest to remove it. You gasped into his mouth and made your decision before your inexperience could talk you out of it, separating from his lips only to kneel down before him with your eyes locked on his.

Amazed by your initiative, he encouraged you by leaning his hips out as you worked at his belt. You fumbled for a moment too long before you finally got his trousers open, finally reaching what you were aiming for as you pulled him from his underwear.

You stared wide-eyed at him as you took in the sight of his cock, the tip flushed red and the vein along the underside pulsing with his well-disguised lust. You looked up at him, finding him staring back down at you with those cold, dark eyes.

"Well, go on then," he mumbled as you continued to stare, conflicted between different courses of action.

Your body heat seemed to rise at the realisation that you were staring like a fool. You swallowed thickly, reaching a hand up and wrapping it gently around him, gliding your thumb along his tip and feeling a little more confident when his unyielding eyes fluttered. You continued on, rubbing your thumb at the head of him before stroking your fist along the length of him, up and down in a steady rhythm as you navigated what he liked and didn't like.

One of his hands cupped the back of your neck, urging you forward as your face pressed into his hips with the warmth of his cock on your cheek. Slowly, you kissed it, your lips gliding along the length as you took in the unfamiliar sensation. You slipped your tongue through your lips, licking along the side until you reached his flushed tip. Kissing the slit at the head of his cock, the bead of pre-cum there spread over your lips as you darted your tongue out to lick it.

You opened your mouth at the taste, setting his tip on your tongue and shivering at the feeling as you closed your lips around it. You built yourself up for it as you felt his heavy stare at the top of your head, bobbing your head slowly back and forth as you took the smallest bit more with each comeback. As he reached the back of your tongue, that tickling feeling in your throat began to tease you before the threat of gagging became too much to try to pass through.

By now, his cock was glistening with your saliva. As you looked up at him with eyes beginning to tear from your efforts, he stared back, lost in the pathetically illusioned look on your face. "You can't be done already," he said, his fingers tangling in your hair.

You spoke breathlessly, "Tommy–"

"No," he shook his head. "Not Tommy. You call me 'sir' while you're sat there on your knees with my cock in your mouth. You understand?"

You took in his authority, deciding whether or not you would listen. You began to scoff, "I'm not–"

"You will," he said finally, giving you that look that demanded respect. You knew, staring at him now, that he held the key to your pleasure. If you wanted to feel good, you would have to obey. As much as that annoyed you, it thrilled you all the same as he continued to look down on you like he was.

Your jaw ached with resentment, but you knew it was a front, you fighting the submission you were not meant to have. But you wanted it. You wanted him to break you down to some common whore, to strip you of your importance as a Gold and turn you into his plaything. But it was so firmly embedded, you would just have to keep fighting against it.

But that didn't matter right now, not with you on your knees with his cock in your hand.

"I can't do it…sir," you replied.

He raised a brow. "Can't do what?"

He was taunting you, insulting you by trying to make you say something you didn't want to say. It sat on your tongue like venom. Admitting what you classified as "it" felt like a new kind of torture.

"What is it you can't do, eh?" he questioned, even smirking at you like he knew he held all the cards. Because he did.

"I can't…" you swallowed thickly, bowing your head.

"No, no," he tsked, lifting your head with his hand in your hair to force you to look at him. And he wasn't lying before—he wouldn't be gentle. "Look at me and tell me what you can't do."

You huffed, speaking in a squeak of a voice. "Can't… take it all."

"What was that?"

"I can't take it all," you repeated, not yelling but not whispering either.

He smiled at you then, an evil, nasty smile that you wanted to wipe from his face. "That's all?" he questioned, laughing when you broke his eye contact. "Well, sure you can. Let me show you."

The exchange was promptly ended as his hand in your hair guided your head back to him as you took his cock in your mouth again, and he pushed you down, inch by inch, back onto him. You felt his tip pushing into your mouth, deeper and deeper on your tongue until he brushed the back of your throat. You gagged around him, feeling the sensations of the invasion rushing down your spine, resting in your belly and tingling all over.

As your nose brushed against his pelvic bone, your eyes welled up as tears spilled over your cheeks. He shushed you as you gagged on his cock, your throat adjusting around the intrusion. His hips bucked a couple of times, pushing his cock further until he could go no deeper. When he pulled out, you took as much air into your burning lungs as possible before you were interrupted by a few coughs.

As much as you wanted to slap him for the assault on your throat, one look at the pleasure on his face calmed the fire of frustration and fed the ache of arousal between your legs.

"Don't– do that again," you huffed, still catching your breath as you leaned forward on your knees to take him into your hot mouth again. You didn't go nearly as far again as you licked along his length, suckling around his cock and laving your tongue along his tip and the vein on the underside.

"The hell I won't," he mumbled, not the biggest fan of your telling him what to do but not necessarily put off by the idea. His hand remained a tangled mess in your hair as you continued to suck and lick and kiss.

You weren't expecting it when he pushed you down the second time, but at least you knew what to expect as you shut your eyes tight and took it, accepting the twisted pleasure that blossomed in your belly until he pulled out of your mouth again, keeping you back as he groaned.

You wiped your mouth off, staring at him with wet eyes and breathing through an open mouth. A deep breath exhaled from his lungs as he hoisted you to your feet, searching out your lips to bring you into another kiss. He turned you both around and pressed your back into his desk as he continued to kiss you roughly, pushing you back until you collapsed on the dark wood.

You gasped in surprise but barely had time to process as his lips continued to attack yours. His hands grasped the neckline of your dress, encouraging shivers down your spine. When he suddenly ripped and ripped at your clothes tearing them off you like a beast, you gasped and watched him turn your dress to rags.

It wasn't long before you were bare in front of him, save for the pantyhose hiding nothing from him. Then those were gone, too. Your hands instinctively flew to your body, trying to cover yourself up. There was really no reason for modesty, not now that you had already seen his cock and had it shoved down your throat, but this was entirely new and you would have rather liked a warning beforehand.

"Don't cover yourself now," he said as he entwined his hands with your own and pulled them away, spreading you out to see every inch of you with those hungry eyes. Your body trembled with the feeling of his eyes on your bare skin. You squeezed your eyes shut, whimpering quietly at the mix of emotions ruling you.

Where some would take pity, Tommy just smiled darkly and tsked gently as he leaned forward and began kissing your neck. Your mouth fell open as your eyes fluttered to see him. A slight moan caught in your throat escaped at the sensation of lips to skin and your hands struggled where he restrained them, wanting to touch him again.

His kisses were not so patient after a moment as teeth began to scrape skin, sucking and nibbling on flesh in order to mark uncharted territory. The pleasure it gave him to know that no man had ever done this to you before was intense, driving him crazy with lust, a desire to claim you as his hips cant into your own, pushing you further into the desk and otherwise hurting you—if you had not been so preoccupied with his kiss.

You moaned into the air when his hand tightened around your thigh, squeezing roughly as he groped and kneaded the flesh. His other hand busied itself around your throat and tilted your head off to the side, sitting securely there but not quite squeezing the same. Your fingers wrapped around his wrist nonetheless, though you didn’t know whether you were trying to make him stop or keeping his hand there, wrapped around your throat and effectively putting him in charge.

The hand on your thigh travelled up, smoothing along your skin until he reached your hip. It never stayed there, moving back down as his fingers brushed over your exposed cunt. Your breath stopped in your throat when you felt his fingers ghosting over your lips and gasped when you felt his middle finger slip between them before biting down hard on your lip in an attempt to silence yourself.

His lips brushed your ear as he spoke in his low tones. “You like being touched by me? Eh?” A whimper left your throat when his finger pressed into you, pushing past your folds and into the warm, wet feeling inside of you. You clenched around it, the feeling foreign and but so good. "You're practically a whore now. I did buy ya after all—cost me a penny."

Your legs trembled as he stretched you out around his finger, a second playing at your pussy before carefully joining the other. "A penny?" you stuttered. "I personally think I'd be worth at least two."

"Well, let's see then," he said, lifting his brows as he pulled his finger out of you.

You whimpered, granting him an annoyed expression at the absence of his touch so soon. "See what?"

"If you taste good enough for two pennies."

You stared at him as his lips kissed your chest, sucking on your nipples on the way down and continuing on down to your thighs. A shocked yelp came from you when he bared his teeth around a chunk of flesh, only soothed when he kissed over it.

He gripped your thighs and pulled them over his shoulders, taking your hips in his hands and pushing himself up so your body was nearly folded in half. He didn't stall you at all as he buried his head between your thighs, licking and sucking on your folds as he shoved his tongue between them.

Your head flew backward, banging against the table. You hardly noticed, even with the full throb at the back of your head, the slight dizziness in your brain. Your hands flew to his hair, tangling in dark strands and tugging him forward. His tongue was just as skilled here, commanding your body to his every will, as it was during his speeches while he commanded armies of men to join in his cause or to intimidate against their own.

One hand left your hip to play with your cunt, toying with your clit. He pushed two fingers into your fluttering hole, swirling his tongue around your clit as you moaned for him to continue.

"Fuck," you mewled, closing your legs around his head and digging your heels into his back. He didn't seem to care, not until you messed up. "Please don't stop, Tommy."

But he did. His fingers and tongue retreated as he pulled back, straightening his back and letting one leg fall from his shoulder, though he kept the other firmly held to his chest.

You whined, looking at him with shallow breath. You watched him lick his kiss-swollen lips as he stared at you with black eyes. The emotions in your belly swirled between lust and frustration and fear and intrigue. He was so intimidating and you wanted more. You wanted him to keep kissing you, to keep dragging his tongue along your wet pussy. But you also wanted him to push you into the floor and take you from behind, his hips slapping into you, his hand planting your cheek against the cold floor, his mouth whispering filthy things in your ear.

"Please," you whimpered, too desperate to care about how pathetic you sounded.

He lifted a brow, saying nothing and staring. When you tried to sit up to reach his face, he pressed a hand into your chest and pushed you down roughly, leaning forward himself to paralyse you with his dangerous glare. Even with his hand on your chest, you tried to sit up still to kiss his pretty lips but he wouldn't let you. Your thigh ached from the position.

"Please," you whispered again, a broken moan as the lack of pleasure became too much, welling in your chest and making your body tremble.

He tilted his head.

You let out a shaky breath, moving your free leg outward to spread yourself even wider for him. "Please, sir," you concede. "Please keep going. I want it."

He didn't continue. His eyes bore into yours and you shuddered. With a gentle huff, you handed over the last of your dignity. "Please, sir, I need it."

He lingered there for a moment longer before smirking. You thought he was going to kiss you when he leaned forward, but instead he took your bottom lip between his teeth and but down before returning to his previous position between your legs.

He began again with the same intensity, devouring you as though you were his last meal. You whimpered and moaned and cried from the pleasure he forced into you. As he shoved his fingers into you, spreading them apart and thus stretching you wider, suckling on your clit and kneading it with his tongue, a coil tightened in your belly as everything seemed to follow.

Your moans built to whining breaths—too high and pitchy to be real—but genuine nonetheless. He didn't let up or slow down, drunk on the taste of you and too far gone to stop just yet, not without his reward.

The warm, wet feeling of his mouth became too much, the suckling of his lips even moreso. You squeezed your eyes tight, arching your back as a loud moan ripped from your throat. Your breath was rough and forceful as it rasped in and out of your throat, and your hands clenching in his hair tugged and tugged as his tongue continued to work. The pleasure took siege of your body, attacking every nerve ending until you were naught but a pile of flesh and blood and bone.

The high slowly descended to bring you back to Tommy Shelby's study, his tongue at your pussy a distant sensation in the back of your mind before it burnt with oversensitivity. You tugged at his hair, grunting as you pulled his head away to catch your breath.

His chin glistened and his lips were plump with blood as he stared at your recuperating body. He pulled his fingers from your fluttering pussy, taking them between his lips to taste you.

"Too much?" he asked, not in any way sensitive as he stared. "What, it feels too good, it hurts?" All you could do was nod. He breathed a laugh. "Have you ever touched yourself before, love?"

You didn't have it in you to be shy as you shook your head. He didn't take that answer this time—not humiliating enough, you supposed.

"Eh?" he urged, lightly smacking your arse to get a proper answer.

You grunted, shaking your head. "No, sir."

"That's your first time cumming then," he said more than asked, watching your dazed eyes slowly return to the dull bite of their natural rebellion—though he knew he broke you down enough for it to be too weak to matter.

He still awaited an answer. "Yes, sir," you obliged.

"Well, congratulations," he said. "Most men don't know how to please, so most women don't get to cum."

You disregarded his comment, still stuck on the aftershocks of pleasure as your eyes wandered the room. You whimpered when he licked you again, suckling around your clit and earning a jerk from your body.

He sat up, moving your legs off his shoulders like they were nothing important to him. He wrapped a hand at the base of your skull and pulled you up to sit. "Come here," he said, bringing you close to his face. "Have a taste."

He pulled you forward and crashed his lips against yours, too rough but just as amazing as all the rough ones he'd given before. The taste of you was strange but addictive as you came back for more, even as he pulled you away.

Tommy backed away from you, leaving you bare and hot on the desk. His hair was a mess, and he licked his lips again. He gestured toward you. "Stand up." You did as you were told, steadying yourself on unsteady feet. "Turn around."

As you obeyed, he came up behind you and pushed you onto the desk again, just as he'd done before. You grunted at the impact and clenched your thighs at the effect it had on you. You hated how good it made you feel, his treating you so roughly, without a care to just how rough. You hated even more how much rougher you wanted him to be.

Your prayers may have been met with extremity when you felt his gun to your head again as he spoke into your ear.

"I could kill you," he considered, pressing the gun further.

Your heart kicked up, and the adrenaline took over as his unwavering voice promised your demise. You held back your moan and responded, "But you won't."

"Why not?"

"You need me," you insisted. He laughed. "It's true. You kill me, well I'm Daddy's favourite. There'll be war. You make me go, I'll just keep coming back to finish it. You fuck me now, your wager is fulfilled and you get to fuck a virgin. What man doesn't want that, eh?"

Oh, you were good. Even if he was going to kill you, your words were enough to persuade him otherwise. He pressed the gun into your temple and the clicking sound of him clocking it reverberated in your ear. You moaned a long, deep moan as you clenched your thighs tightly together.

He smiled, laughing quietly to himself as he shook his head. "A proper whore, you are."

"Then fuck me, sir. That's the purpose of a whore, isn't it?" You gripped the edge of the table when he pushed his hips into you, aching that same spot on your thighs from before and making your lust all the worse.

He lingered, the cold barrel cocked and ready. You held your breath and awaited his decision before he removed it from your head. You sighed gently, missing his warmth when he stepped away from you.

Your hips jolted when the cold tip of his gun pressed to your pussy, spreading your lips apart to see you still wet for him. With the gun still cocked, your heart pounded against your ribcage and you felt the anxiety building deliciously in your body. He hummed, considering something in his head. You stayed as still as possible, certain your breath was loud as you wondered what he was thinking.

You heard him kneel, hyperaware of every sound he made behind you. His hand nudged the other side before he was leaning forward to taste you again.

You whimpered. "You're a dirty whore for being this wet," he said. You bit down on your lip.

He stood again and bent himself over your body. "You got my gun dirty," he tutted, shaking his head like he was scolding you as he shoved the barrel in your face. You could see your arousal gleaming off of it, shaking at the sight of it so close. "Clean it up."

You didn't move, paralyzed by fear. He didn't like that. "Clean. It. Up."

You let out a wavering breath, "Yes, sir." You leaned forward slowly, not even certain you were actually moving, and stuck your tongue out the slightest bit. You shut your eyes, making contact with the gun and a tiny whine slipped.

He watched you do as you were told, licking your slick from his gun and loving every second. A tear slipped down your cheek, slow and beautiful. He kissed it from your skin as you cleaned the gun.

When he deemed that you'd done well enough, he uncocked it and put it away. Your body relaxed, all of the pent up energy inside of you calming a slight as the threat of so much danger lifted from you.

He slipped his hand around your throat and leaned into your ear again. "Such a good girl, crying for me" he husked in your ear. "I'm gonna make you scream."

You felt the head of his cock push between your folds, coating himself in your slick, and there was plenty to go around. He straightened his spine as he took a hold of your hips, just as rough as you were expecting, before he shoved his cock into you. You moaned loudly as the harsh drag of his cock invaded your cunt, stretching you out around him.

"Fuck," you cried, gripping the desk harder. He held you steady as he fucked into your tight pussy, snapping his hips in and out of you without sparing a second for you to adjust. The slick you'd gathered would have to do.

You clenched down on him, thighs aching and trembling and becoming too much already as the tears built in your eyes.

Chants and cries of "yes" and "more" and "harder" spilled from your mouth and into the air, a loud and filthy cacophony of blasphemous praise. He held you down and he held you still, dominating your body as your new god as he ruined you for any man.

"You want more? Sure you do, so desperate for a fuck," he taunted, his harsh words accompany the harsh smacks of his hips. It was loud and continuous and it felt so good. "Such a dirty little thing, filthy and twisted. You like having a gun to your head, you like me being mean to ya. Where's all that pride gone, eh?"

The tears streamed down your face, decorating you in a way that Tommy could only describe as "beautiful".

"That's right. Cry for me, little whore," he grunted.

You did. Your thighs hurt and your throat is sore and your fingers ache from grasping the desk so hard, but you cried for him and the overwhelming pleasure, a depraved sound he fed from.

One of his hands left your hip to toy with your clit as he pressed his chest to your back. He bit the juncture between your neck and your shoulder, cruel and uncaring, before kissing the spot like an absent-minded apology. Your voice was raspy as he drew quick circles at your clit, chasing your next high as though it were unattainable.

And who knows? With Tommy, it might be.

"More," you begged, despite the loss of breath in your lungs, despite the haze of your mind. You chased the pleasure, pleading for it to swallow you whole as you took all that he gave you. "Please, sir, more." He cursed under his breath.

That crashing high from before curled in your belly again, hot and searing, like molten lava. You shuddered when it erupted, squeezing around his cock as you nearly sobbed. "Ahh, fuck!" Your head went fuzzy at the sensations as you gushed around him, sucking him in tighter.

Tommy grunted, his hips stilling before he pulled out of you. You thought he was done, but he seemed far from it as he wrapped his arm around your midsection, lifting you from the table and turning. You thought he was heading for the sofa, instead he lowered you to the ground on your hands and knees, which shook with the aftershocks of an orgasm you were still recovering from.

He pressed down on your back, pushing you onto the floor so your hips were angled up. He grasped your waist, smacking your arse once and earning a cut-off shriek.

He steadied you before burying his cock in you once more, sighing from the warmth your body provided. You whimpered at the feeling so fresh after cumming, slowly adjusting to the pleasure as he fucked into you with the insistence of a starved man.

Once you settled into it again, you moaned into the sensitivity, easing the rock of his hips rubbing you against the floor with your palms planted on the wood. It was cold and hard but the way his cock brushed in and out of you was so electric that you didn't care.

"There we are," he said, guiding your hips quickly as he pulled you in against him. "Fucked on the ground where you belong. Don't you agree?"

You struggled with nodding—though you knew he wouldn't accept it anyway. "Yes, s– Ah!– sir." He rutted into you, his thrusts almost animalistic, and he kept on.

He leaned forward, bracing one hand next to your head as you reached out to grab it. His breath was loud in your ear, full of broken moans disguised as heavy grunts.

"Good," mewled. "Feels good, sir."

"Yeah?" he asked, a particularly harsh slap making you whimper. "You want more, you pathetic whore?"

"Please, sir."

"So polite all of a sudden," he spoke breathlessly.

When he pulled out of you again, you thought you'd scream. But he eased you up to flip you onto your back, standing on his knees and staring down on you. You watched him unbutton his shirt, undoing each button one by one until he was able to shed it from his arms. You stared at the bare skin of his chest, taking in his tattoos, his muscles, the light patch of hair.

Grabbing you by your legs, he pulled you into his lap after leaning back. He set your legs over his shoulders once more, guiding himself back into you before he leaned forward. Your legs ached from being put in this position so much—but hell if you cared, because when he seated himself fully inside of you, the moan you left out was deep and guttural. He reached so much deeper than before, brushing a spot inside of you that set your body ablaze.

You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him close as his hips snapped into yours. His thrusts were shorter in this position, grinding into you and brushing that spot over and over and over again. You whined and moaned through every moment of it, your eyes tearing up and the tension in your muscles building.

Your hand splayed out over his cheek as you tilted his head toward your face, wanting to watch him as he fucked into you. His eyes gazed at you, the intimidation from before not quite as cruel as it melted into the intimacy of the moment. His forehead pressed against yours and you breathed in each other's air as he shoved your hips together.

The sounds of his cock sliding in and out of you were intoxicating, filling the air with a filthy cadence that mixed with the carnal pleas on your tongue and the raucous groans on his.

"Look at you," he said, planting his hand next to your head once more as the other held your hips up for the right angle. "So desperate, pathetically beautiful."

You gave him a drunk smile, looking between his eyes and lips. "You think… I'm beautiful?"

He rolled his eyes but smiled nonetheless, shutting you up with a rough thrust. Your head fell back and exposed your neck, which he graciously nipped between his teeth.

You yelped when the pad of his thumb pressed against your clit again, sinking into a breathy moan as you looked between your bodies to see it. You looked back up at Tommy, allowing him to do as he pleased with your body, succumbing to his touch.

"Fuck," you breathed, clenching around him at the feeling of your aching clit being stimulated again. You weren't sure you could cum again, but to hell if you weren't going to try.

Your arms wrapped around his back as your nails took root in his shoulders, scraping down his flesh to find purchase for the overwhelming passion. The sound Tommy made was nearly a moan, which he covered with a hiss as he clenched his teeth.

You kissed him, lips bruising, teeth clicking, tongues flicking as you drank the pleasure. "I'm gonna cum again, sir."

He raised his brows, though his rhythm was wearing. "Oh, you think so, do you?"

You corrected yourself, kissing him again to add in your favour. "Please, sir, can I cum again?"

His grin was almost sinister as he regarded you. You were learning, and fast. His unsteady hips rocked you back and forth on the ground, and his breath was timed with each little thrust. You could tell he was going to lose it, so close to joining you as you encouraged him by clenching and squeezing, sucking him into your cunt and getting him addicted to it.

"Fuck, yes. Go on and cum for me, sweetheart," he groaned, giving you the permission you needed as the pleasure washed over you like a wave of fire.

Your back arched, your weak moan stuttered in your throat, and you couldn't help but utter his name as the ecstasy shook you. Your cunt fluttered around him, and your moan continued until it melted to helpless little whimpers which then dissolved into each breath.

Tommy buried his face in the crook of your neck when he came after you, growling in your ear and his muscles tensed under your hands. His hips rutted into you, sinking in nice and deep and putting you in a position that would have been fairly uncomfortable, had you not been so devoured by his deep fucking that you hardly even noticed. All you could feel was the pressure of his body on yours and the feeling of his hot seed spilling into you, your cunt so tight around his cock that you milked every drop.

Slowly, his muscles loosened and his grip on your hip let up. He sighed, a long, deep sigh that released the rest of his tension as he began to straighten his back again. You stopped him, wrapping your hand around the back of his head and pulling him down for one more kiss. This one was so soft, a slow kiss that rendered your body useless. Everything was limp and lazy as the tender kiss changed the entire dynamic of the night.

It lasted longer than it properly should have as you both came in for more, treasuring it, cherishing it, until it had to come to its imminent end. He pulled away from you, staring at your face for a moment longer before he sat up, pulling out of you and making you shudder from the sudden loss and the even more sudden chill.

You stayed on the floor as he walked toward his desk and tucked himself back into his underwear. Your eyelids were heavy, drooping down as you lacked the strength to stand. As Tommy picked up his case of cigarettes, he looked at you over his shoulder, still laying there. Your legs were still spread out, your pussy dripping with both your cum on display and your arms framing your head. You'd passed out.

Tommy rubbed his cigarette between his lips before he lit it. His eyes never left you as he took the first puff before discarding the light and walking over to you. He knelt, tucking his hand under you to take you into his arms and set you on the sofa. He readjusted your body, your legs closed and one of your arms covering your chest.

He stood there a moment. You looked peaceful as you slept—absolutely debauched with your messy hair, tear-stricken cheeks, and swollen lips—but peaceful. Your face nuzzled into the cushion, and your lips twitched with whatever was going on in your head.

It took more than he would like to admit not to brush the apple of your cheek as he cleared his throat quietly. He picked up his disregarded shirt and draped it over your shoulders before choosing to walk back to his desk. He sat down and sifted through some files he pulled from a drawer to busy himself.

He didn't keep track of how long you slept or how long he sat there. He hadn't realised when he dozed off, tired out from you and from work.

You stirred from your place on the couch, opening your eyes and wondering why the floor was so soft. It took a moment to remember where you were, why you were naked, and why your thighs were so sticky.

Taking a deep breath in, a familiar scent filled your nose as you noticed the shirt over your body. You sat up slowly, pulling it to your chest and taking another deep breath. The scent made you dizzy, and you slipped it over your arms. The shirt was big on you, hanging low as you pulled it closed around your body.

Your body ached as you moved to stand, running a hand through your hair and stretching your sore limbs. Why were you so sore?

You took two steps, examining the floor and taking in all the clothes—scraps and fully intact—laying there, before you looked up and saw him. Tommy was passed out at his desk, bracing his face on his arms as he slept.

The events of that night flooded into your mind all at once and suddenly, everything made sense. You looked down at your dress of scraps again with a frown as you picked it up, rolling your eyes before using it to wipe away the cum glueing your legs together and discarding it back to the floor.

You padded over to Tommy, glancing over him and silently making your way to the window to peek behind the curtains. It was still dark out, so you hadn't slept long.

You returned to Tommy, lifting up his half-burnt cigarette and putting it out properly in the ashtray it was sitting in. You stared at him, watching him sleep.

You never thought the devil himself could ever look so peaceful.

You couldn't help yourself—you reached out and brushed some of his hair from his face. You just wanted to see him a little clearer. In doing so, he woke. It wasn't a slow waking like yours. His was fast, nearly startled as his eyes opened and his sharp inhale shocked his senses. Before he could jolt up to his feet, his blue eyes found you and his dark brows almost convinced you that he despised you as he granted you a hard stare.

But his expression shifted at the sight of you, after he'd properly taken you in and recognized you. He blinked away and sighed, sitting up slowly and leaning back in his chair. He tilted his head as he looked you up and down before reaching for his case of cigarettes again.

He picked one out, rubbed it between his lips, and lit it up in silence. And, in silence, you took it from between his lips and set it between your own. He stared at you, lips parted and amused—though, you had to look closely to notice.

"Apologise."

You stared at him with a raised brow, blowing out a billowing breath of smoke. He was surprised you smoke.

He looked you up and down before sighing and leaning back again. "Alright, I'll bite," he said. "What for?"

You took another deep breath before moving it again, blowing it out before gesturing toward him with his cigarette. "You called me pathetic."

"You are pathetic."

"And you called me a whore."

"You are a whore."

"You called me a pathetic whore."

He opened his arms, shrugging as he watched you. You raised a brow and blew out some more smoke.

"Apologise."

You weren't harsh as you said it, and you didn't look particularly hurt. In fact, you looked like a fucking angel dressed in his shirt, smoking his cigarette, and demanding he apologise for something you so obviously enjoyed.

He gave in, smiling as he rolled his eyes. "I apologise for calling you a pathetic whore…even if you are a pathetic whore."

You watched him for a moment, considering whether you'd accept his apology.

"I also want you to apologise for pointing a gun at me. Twice. And then touching my fucking cunt with it."

"No." He said it so simply, so finally. There was no way you'd get him to budge. "You liked it too much."

You thought about that and shrugged. Fair enough.

"I also–"

"Shut up and come here," he said, turning toward you with his open legs and arms.

You smiled and stepped between them, letting him take hold of your waist—even if you were still sensitive there because you didn't want to give up the affection. You guided the cigarette back between his lips, your fingers pressing against them as you did. He smoked it before taking it out and staring at you, blowing the air out as he thought.

Tommy reached into his pocket, digging around to pull out a coin. He handed it to you, and you shook your head at him. "That's not funny," you mumbled, stifling a laugh.

"Congratulations, you're worth two pennies."

"Fuck you," you laughed, placing a hand on his shoulder.

"I've already done that." You laughed again, shaking your head and ignoring the warmth in your belly.

You stared at him, rubbing the coin between your fingers as you toyed with it. He watched you think to yourself, biting your lip as your eyes so obviously flicked between his eyes and lips.

"Thank you, Tommy," you told him softly. "I needed this."

His smile faltered slightly as he continued to watch you. He sighed, unaware of his thumbs stroking patterns into your sides, "I didn't do it for you… but I'm happy to have helped."

You chuckled weakly, half-hearted. Looking down at the penny, you smiled slowly and held it up. "How about a wager?" His subtle amusement encouraged you.

"If it's heads…you get me a new dress because you ripped mine to shreds."

He let out a small scoff, shaking his head gently.

"And if it's tails…" you smiled. You lifted your leg, slipping into his lap as you wrapped your arms around his shoulders. His hands found your arse, pulling you forward so your bodies were flush against each other. Your eyes fluttered as his cock brushed your pussy, already exciting you for the probable future. You focused on him again, "...you fuck me again—this time naked."

He smiled and nodded his head. "Toss the coin, Miss Gold."

You licked your lips as you readied it between your thumb and finger. Your eyes locked for a moment between moments, drinking each other like forbidden wine. You flipped the coin into the air, watching as it twirled and twirled and twirled. The coin made its descent, you caught it, and you took a moment to close your eyes and hope before you let it show.

You couldn't hide your elation as you picked up the coin and showed him. "Congratulations, Mr. Shelby," you smiled. "Tails."

"A deal's a deal." His hand wrapped around the back of your neck and he pulled you in, "I would've fucked you otherwise." He kissed you in a mix of the roughness and sweet tenderness from earlier.

Between breaks, you sighed heavily. "Thank God because I need you," you confessed, kissing him again.

You undid his pants once more, this time pushing them down his legs and finally ridding him of them. He let you wear his shirt, refraining from admitting just how much he liked seeing you wear it.

The kiss was a mess as you devoured one another. He rocked your hips in his lap and you moaned at the pressure as his cock spread your lips apart. "Fuck, this is gonna be a long night," you hummed.

"Shut up and ride my cock," he demanded, not nearly as harsh as before but just as breathless as you now.

You smiled. "Yes, sir."

Peaky Blinders taglist: @lyarr24​ @runnning-outof-time​ @goblinjnr Tag yourself here...

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[queenshelby]

Business As Usual (Part Five)

Pairing: Dark!Thomas Shelby x Wife!Reader

Warning: Arranged Marriage, Angst, Cheating

Words: 1,678

NOTE: THIS IS MUCH DARKER THAN WHAT I USUALLY WRITE. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED!

Just as you heard the shots and Tommy walked outside, your heart raced in fear. Your body trembled with anxiety, realizing how dangerous your life had become since marrying into the world of the notorious Peaky Blinders and, even though you grew within the ranks of the Mafia, you had always been sheltered from the dangers of the underworld.

But this did not mean that you could not protect yourself. Your father had taught you how to shoot when you were just a child. Taking one step backward, your hand thus instinctively reached out to grab the gun resting elegantly yet threateningly upon Tommy’s mahogany-finished desk.

Your fingers brushed over the cool metal surface, feeling an almost primal connection to it. The click echoed through the vastness of the room, reminding you of all those years ago – practicing until your aim became perfect, steady. This was what you needed now as there was no way that you would rely on anyone else to protect you and the unborn child you were secretly carrying.

You heard another shot being fired outside before gripping the gun firmly, pushing past the panicked fear swirling inside you.

As you stepped forth onto the porch area where Tommy was standing, he immediately snapped, telling you to go back inside.

"I told you to stay inside!" His voice boomed throughout the night air like thunder, causing birds to scatter and leave their perches just before another shot was fired from somewhere down below - close enough to raise alarm bells in both of your hearts. Fear and adrenalin coursed swiftly through your veins, urging you both to act decisively amidst uncertainty. 

"Who is it?" your voice quivered slightly as the words left your lips, betraying your growing fear.

"Someone whose got out for you and your fucking family. Now go back inside!" Tom's command came sharply, cutting through the oppressive silence that had fallen upon the gardens below. But despite his tone suggesting authority, his face revealed hesitation mixed with anger, making clear that while he knew better than most, leading such a brutal organisation carried its own set of burdens. As his gaze shifted towards the ground, you couldn't help but notice how his usually cold exterior softened, replaced instead by vulnerability which only served to intensify the desire simmering beneath the surface.

With Charlie inside, he knew not to let this stand and, just after you indeed walked back into the foyer of your large residence, your husband ought to investigate the disturbance. 

His presence commanded attention wherever he went. He strode purposefully forward, his powerful legs propelling him quickly along the front yard of Arrow House. 

His mind conjured up images of the enemies he had vanquished and friends made, allies lost...all these memories seemed to whisper in his ear as he approached closer to the place from whence the shots were coming. His chest tightened at the thought of losing more comrades, especially when they faced challenges like this. It was a constant struggle, and although some may deem it glamorous due to popular culture portrayals, Tommy understood well that leadership wasn't easy nor glamorous, requiring endurance, tactical thinking and, above all, sacrifices.

Meanwhile, you walked towards the back of your large house to also investigate where the shots were coming from. Feeling anxious and worried, adrenaline flowed through your veins, leaving your hands clammy and your stomach knotted. 

You knew that someone was in your house, intending harm to either Tommy or yourselves. Slowly, stealthily, you moved further into the hallway of your home, peering around corners and into rooms to ensure nothing escaped your vision. All the while, your ears strained to pick up any sounds indicative of danger nearby.

Suddenly, you caught sight of movement behind the sofa at the far end of the living room, and you instinctively raised your weapon, ready to defend yourself if necessary. Just then, something fell through the air from behind you.

Before you could react, the silhouette of a tall looking man emerged from behind the furniture, lunging toward you with a savage grace. With lightning speed, you raised your arm and pulled the trigger, sending a bullet flying straight towards your target. There was an audible scream followed by a sickening crunch, and then eerie stillness returned once again.

For a moment, you stood motionless, heart pounding wildly in your chest. It took several moments for you to realize what you had done.

Adrenaline surged through your body, and you felt numb. Your arms shook violently as you dropped the gun onto the floor, its sound reverberating across the silent house. You hadn't realized how much your body ached until you finally stopped firing. The pain radiated from your shoulder down your arm and into your wrist as you too must have been shot. 

You covered your arm with your hand, trying to stop the bleeding as you looked downward, seeing the victim laying sprawled lifeless beside you before you heard yet another shot being fired outside, causing you to jump.

The sudden noise broke the spell, bringing back the harsh reality of the situation. Realization struck hard, as your heart hammered fiercely in your chest, your limbs trembling involuntarily. Adrenaline filled your system, causing your pulse to race erratically. Gulping down your terror, you managed to regain control over your shaking knees and picked up the gun you had fired just moments ago.

You raced outside, determined to find the source of the last shot fired. Outside, darkness loomed heavily, providing ample cover for potential attackers. The rain began to fall, creating puddles everywhere as you searched frantically for anything unusual that might indicate the presence of hostile forces. Glancing nervously in every direction, you tried to maintain focus while battling against fatigue and discomfort caused by your injury.

Finally spotting something suspicious near a group of bushes, you slowly edged closer, pointing your gun directly ahead as you steadied your breathing.

This is when you saw her. The woman you hated the most, holding a knife against your husband's throat while Isiah Jesus, another member of the Peaky Blinders, was pointing a gun at her.

Her hazel eyes held a mixture of determination and cruelty, contrasting starkly with Tommy's own intense gaze fixed on hers

Carefully, you approached the group and, in her panicked state, Laura did not notice you until your gun was pointed directly at her head. 

"Drop the fucking knife or I will blow your brains out," you warned her, taking care to remain calm and composed. Your heart pounded in your chest, knowing full well that this situation was beyond treacherous.

Laura, however, remained unfazed, seemingly reveling in the fact that she was putting Tommy and herself in grave danger. Her resolve appeared ironclad, hinting at an underlying reason behind her actions that you didn't understand, but your primary concern at that moment was getting Tommy safely out of the line of fire, simply for Charlie's sake. 

"You should join my side, Y/N. He is using you and so is your family," Laura argued defiantly, clearly wanting to cause havoc.

"Says the woman with no fucking morals whatsoever," you retorted, feeling your blood pressure rise as you struggled to contain your rising temper.

Isiah merely watched with grim detachment, waiting for orders from Tommy and sensing that things were about to get ugly very soon. 

Realizing that arguing wouldn't solve anything, Tom decided to take action. His decision was final, showing the strength of his convictions even during times of crisis.

"Now drop the knife," you demanded again forcefully and, just as you spoke the words, Tommy grabbed her wrist tightly in an effort to push her away. 

Laura, of course, put up a fight and it was this fight which caused you to lower the gun and shoot, aiming directly for her knee cap. The loud crack of the gunshot echoed around the neighborhood, startling nearby animals awake and bringing people to their windows wondering what was happening outside.

She cried out in agony, falling to the ground with a grimace painted across her face. 

"This is for sleeping with my fucking husband," you seethed before uncocking your weapon.

 Turning to Tommy, you asked him one simple question, "Why her? Why would you choose her?" This time, your hurt manifested itself in a palpable way, striking Tommy squarely in the gut as he contemplated your query. 

He sighed wearily, running a hand through his dark hair in a characteristic gesture that belied his turmoil within. "It was business, nothing more," he said weakly, unable to meet your eyes. 

But his eyes told another tale, and you recognized that look of guilt etched across his features.

"She fucking played you," you muttered under your breath, turning away to avoid further confrontation.

As you stepped away, moving past Isiah and heading towards the house, tears welled up in your eyes - the result of the betrayal, fear, and confusion swirling inside you.

"Get her away from my fucking house and put a bullet in her head if you want to, Thomas! I don't ever want to see this woman again. Do you hear me?" you spat after having turned around momentarily. Your heart pounded madly in your chest, threatening to escape from your ribcage altogether.

Pain seared through your injured arm, forcing you to grit your teeth against the waves of agony crashing upon you. Ignoring the debilitating pain, you pushed open the door leading back into the living room. Inside, everything looked as though chaos reigned supreme—the mess of torn papers littering the floor bore testament to the urgency of the encounter that had unfolded earlier. Dread settled in your bones as you trudged through the broken glass and discarded documents, eventually reaching the staircase leading to the second level.

Tears threatened to overflow as you climbed the steps, wincing slightly at the sharp prickle of pain coursing through your wounded arm.

Desperate to distract yourself from the overwhelming mix of emotions raging within you, you attempted to focus on your physical injuries instead. The bullet lodged in your arm had now begun to throb insistently, accompanied by a steady trickle of blood oozing outwards.

You knew that you had to attend to your injuries now but you almost had no strength left within you to do so until, eventually, you heard a familiar voice from behind.

"I will take you to the hospital, Love," Tommy whispered softly, his tone laced with an unfamiliar tenderness. It seemed as though he genuinely wanted to comfort you despite all that had transpired tonight. And suddenly, your anger started to fade somewhat, probably because you were exhausted. 

Inhaling deeply, you shook your head, knowing that there would be questions. 

"No. You can get the bullet out," you replied stubbornly, unwilling to let anyone else help you. As strong as you may appear, you knew deep down that it wasn't really you, but rather pride keeping you standing upright in those shoes. Even as you clenched your jaw, attempting to hide the pain, your legs wobbled beneath you like jelly. 

"I would, if you weren't pregnant," Tommy responded, a hint of regret evident in his tone. 

Hearing these words, shockwaves of emotion coursed through you as you absorbed the truth hidden within those little words: 'pregnant'. 

Your entire world shifted abruptly as gravity lost its meaning and the air became heavier. Reality crashed down on you mercilessly, leaving you stunned. Your child...his child, conceived amidst the chaos and violence that surrounded them daily.

"You know that I am pregnant? How?" you asked, seeing that you never told him. The uncertainty in your voice revealed both your surprise and disbelief. 

Tommy nodded solemnly, acknowledging your astonishment. "Frances became to notice. She told me and I figured that you were going to see someone about it," he explained. 

"I couldn't terminate the pregnancy, no matter how much I wanted to Thomas," you admitted, your voice low and somber. 

There was a pause between you two before Tommy finally broke eye contact, looking downward thoughtfully. "I understand," he said before taking your hand into his, giving it a gentle squeeze, and then leading you to his Bentley. 

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[notyour-valentine]

I'd do anything to make you stay (dark!Tommy x Reader)

[Masterlist] [Taglist]

Summary: First, she wished to leave, then she felt it was her duty to leave, then she was desperate to leave until she realised she was forced to stay.

Note: This was written for @noforkingclue and her 2.5 k celebration. Congratulations once again. I hope you have as much fun reading this as I had writing it! I tried my hand at dark! Tommy, but in a more conniving, subtle way and used the implicit prompt of "I'd do anything to make you stay" and the explicit prompt of "I have nothing I could offer you"

I do not consent to my work being translated, copied or posted elsewhere on this platform or any other. This hasn't been beta'd so I apologise for typos or mistakes

Warning: Gun, manipulation, controlling behaviour, obsession (18/21+)

Wordcount: 5033 words

"So that means, I have to leave.", She announced, slightly out of breath from the strength it took to say these words. 

For a moment, there was silence. Then it was Ms Burgess who spoke up. 

"So we will have to find someone new?", She sighed in annoyance. "This hassle is the last thing we need with the wedding coming up."

Her tone made her swallow hard, turning her eyes to the floor. 

"Grace, leave the girl be.", Mr. Shelby argued. His tone softened, when he returned to her. 

"Congratulations.", He offered. "We wish you and your fiancé all the best."

His soft smile made relief wash over her. 

"Thank you for letting us know so that we have time to plan in finding a replacement, even if we are sad to see you go. You are incredible with Charlie."

That was why they had hired her. 

She wasn't a governess, and no nanny or nurse either. In fact, she was only a trained housemaid, but once Mr. Shelby had found out she had three younger siblings of her own, he had hired her as Charlie's caretaker, deeming her qualifications as a sister more important than those from some college or school. 

Ms Burgess had disagreed at first, but the little boy had taken to her. 

And now with Ms Burgess focussed on nothing but the wedding, Charlie grew ever more attached to her. 

He was a beautiful boy, so soft and gentle. Other children raged with tantrums, but only ever cried when he was frightened, hungry or exhausted. He loved to be held and always tried to hold onto a part of her in return, her hair, her hand, the fabric of her clothes. 

And he was getting strong fast.

Having to leave him would break her heart but before long she'd have a bunch of children of her own. 

Mr Shelby had always been kind to her. Occasionally he would bend the rules or show the occasional kindness, like sending her a car to pick her up from the station after her day off, or keeping back a slice of blackberry pie only because she had once mentioned that she adored it. 

Perhaps it was because she knew their secret. It was obvious, really. The way he held and watched the boy, who on paper was nothing but his fiancée's son, gave it all away. But it wasn't her place to judge so she didn't. 

And she always greeted him with a smile whenever he would join her in the nursery or outside in the gardens, or when she would bring the boy to him before putting him to sleep. 

This would have been the beginning of goodbye, only it wasn't. 

~

When she visited home a few weeks later, she was met with the shocking news that her fiancé had married someone else and moved away with her to London. 

The heartbreak was bad, but the shame was worse. 

"I see.", Mr. Shelby said, when she sat in his home office in front of him, her cheeks wet as she tried very hard to keep her voice composed. 

The sudden ending of her engagement meant she needed employment once more and it made her cheeks burn to ask for it. 

Mr. Shelby sighed deeply, smoke escaping his lips. 

"We have already found someone.", He mumbled, making her heart drop. 

He was a good employer and paid well, but she couldn't blame him, could she now?

"However, the change wouldn't be good for Charlie. You may continue your employment here."

Relief made her sniffle once more. 

"Now, now. No more of that, eh?", He insisted, getting up and walking around the desk. 

From his own suit pocket, he produced his handkerchief and dabbed her cheeks gently. 

"There. I know all too well how betrayal by someone you thought you loved hurts.", He said, his voice even softer than it normally was when speaking to her. 

His hand lingered on the side of her face from where it had tilted her face upward. 

It was so warm, and his eyes, those eyes the other servants claimed to be cold, were filled with nothing but compassion. 

His thumb traced her cheekbone. 

"But let me promise you this: while it is a hard lesson, it is a lesson you will never forget."

A lot of people had said a lot of things in the last few days, and she hadn't believed them. In a way, she didn't really believe that a man like him could have his heart broken too, but here he was, admitting it to her. And somehow she knew it was the truth. 

He only removed his hand when Ms Burgess entered, visibly upset about some order of flowers. 

Their wedding was shortly after Christmas and yet she wanted non-seasonal floral arrangements, which proved to be rather difficult. 

~

"Congratulations, Mr Shelby.", She offered when she saw him in the corridor. 

He turned in the spot, seeing her beam at him with the basket of clean laundry in her arm. 

"What are you doing with that, eh?", He asked. 

"Pitching in."

A lot of things had fallen off the edge in light of all the work that had to be done to make sure today would be absolutely perfect. 

"That's not your job.", He reminded her. 

Without another word, he took it from her hands. 

"I'm glad to help. A lot of the maids are too busy.", She argued. "I'd feel awful if I didn't help at least a little bit."

Once she had placed the sheets in the large wardrobe in the corridor and the towels in the appropriate bathrooms, all absolutely perfect for the guests. 

"I can take that now.", She assured him. "You are probably missed downstairs."

Mr. Shelby scoffed and shook his head. 

"They can drink my champagne on their own."

So he followed her back in the nursery where she took over from Jane, the maid who had actually been supposed to take care of the towels. But she had been on her feet since three a.m. that morning so a little chance to sit and get a bite to eat was more than welcome. 

"Sorry, Mr. Shelby.", She said at once. 

"'s alright.", He assured her as he sat down on the other chair. 

Still, Jane rushed to leave, leaving the three of them. 

"Shall we show your father how well you are doing with your walking, Charlie?", She asked, kneeling down in front of the boy before turning to the father again. 

"He can almost do it on his own."

Giving Charlie one hand of hers to hold, while the other was braced against the wall, he could hold his balance. 

Then step by step, he moved forward towards his toy horse. 

With a soft smile, Mr. Shelby crouched down too, opening his arms. 

"Come here, Charlie!", He encouraged, making the boy change directions. That meant he had to abandon the safety of the wall. 

Her hand went to his other hand, but Mr. Shelby shook his head. 

"Let him try with one hand.", He instructed and so she did. 

Charlie leaned heavily into her arm, but kept taking his steps, until he was in his father's arms. 

"Well done. Now back again.", He instructed, offering Charlie only one hand to hold onto. 

And once more Charlie made his way across the small space between them. 

As she stretched out her hands, she glanced up and saw his eyes, focussed not on his son, but on her. And she smiled before focussing her attention back on that darling little boy. 

~

The bad news came in the middle of chaos, although chaos seemed to be their constant state. Right after the wedding, the new Mrs Shelby was determined to start working on the foundation. While Mr Shelby’s money was the ticket into polite society, this work would keep them there, of that she was sure and so she poured every waking minute into it, and everytime she came to ask if perhaps she wanted to join her on a walk with Charlie or bathe or feed him, she was turned away. Some days, Mr Shelby saw him more than his mother did and that was saying something. 

And so it was him she turned to, with the letter in hand. 

He leaned back against the windowsill as he read through what her mother had written.

“How old is your aunt?”, he wanted to know. 

“Thirty - six.”, she responded, wringing her hands. 

“And now your mother wants you to go and help her?”

She nodded. 

“She can’t possibly do the household chores with a broken hip, and rear four children, Sir.”

“No, she can’t.”, he said with a sigh before sitting down at his desk. 

For a moment, he seemed to consider the implications, then he nodded. 

“And you’d take that on? Four children and a household, all the while playing nurse?”

That wasn’t a difficult question at all. 

“Of course, Sir! I don’t want to leave, but it’s family. That's what family is supposed to do."

Her words brought a hint of a smile to his lips. 

“That is very kind of you.”, he told her, making her cheeks flush. “But the truth is, I don’t want to see you go. I think it would be bad for Charlie.”

All softness had gone from his voice and he met her gaze with the same determination she had seen him use with his brothers 

She opened her mouth to argue, but he waved her off. 

“But since I understand your situation, and the conflict it brings, I would like to make you an offer.”

Those demanding blue eyes met hers again and she shuddered in anticipation. 

“I’ll pay for your aunt to hire some woman from the village to take care of her household and children. And I will increase your pay by 15% as I know you send all your earnings back to your family so that your mother won’t have to work so much. That increase would let her take another day off about another day a week, no? During that time she too can help your aunt.”

“Mr. Shelby-”, she insisted breathlessly, “that’s too much to ask! I couldn’t possibly accept that!”

But he only shook his head. 

“Don’t you worry. You just stay right here and tend to Charlie. The costs of letting you go would be far higher, to all of us.”

She tried to argue once more, but he wouldn’t have it and instead sent her off with a small smile, feeling dizzy from her luck. 

~

It was awful. No, it was worse than awful. It was horrific. 

Mrs Shelby had been so proud, so happy when it came time to leave for the foundation dinner, only to - 

She hadn’t believed it at first, not even when Mary told her. Only when bit by bit, the Shelbys came home. 

It took three days for anyone to spy Mr. Shelby. 

There had been strict instructions from his sister that no one was to talk to him, not even to offer their condolences. He wouldn’t want that. 

There was some comfort though, as Charlie seemed blissfully oblivious to everything, babbling and playing, giggling whenever she sung “This is how the Lady rides” and bounced him on her lap. She had been doing that when she saw him standing in the door and profusely apologised, with a burning face and a tightening chest. 

It had been on the mourning of the fourth day. He was wearing nothing but a working man's shirt and old saddleworn trousers, his eyes red and his cheeks sunken.

The poor man had lost his wife and here she was making his son laugh until he was breathless.

It just wasn’t right. It couldn’t be right. 

But instead of scolding her, of screaming or even striking her for her inappropriate behaviour, he had only ever placed a hand on her arm to sooth her, crouched down beside his son, stroked his hair and asked her to continue. 

It hadn’t been easy, at least not until Charlie was laughing again, but when she brought him up again, he had thrown himself into her chest, his whole body trembling with giggles. 

But Mr. Shelby hadn’t minded. Instead, he had only watched, his hand staying on her arm, his eyes on his son. 

“You’re a Godsend.”, he had called her on that fourth day before leaving, the hand moving to cup her cheek. And then he was gone. 

But he returned on the fifth day, and on the sixth and seventh and on every day thereafter, joining her in the nursery.  

Sometimes, he’d hold his son, sometimes he’d help her dress him or hold him or feed him. Sometimes he preferred to watch. 

But he always returned. 

For weeks it went like this, and she was the only person apart from his son, sister and aunt that he talked to. And the only adult he looked in the eyes while doing it. 

She had seen him shrug off his aunt’s hand on his arm, while his own found her shoulder or back, brushed against her fingers as they exchanged toys or clothes, just as he never really met his sister’s eyes, while they didn’t shy away from hers. 

A godsend, he called her, a blessing, a stroke of luck, once even saying that she was the only thing that still held all this together. 

She had tried to argue, but he had insisted. She cared for Charlie and that was all that mattered now. He hadn’t allowed her room for argument in that, and in his situation, she couldn’t blame him for putting his son above all others. 

“Without you, all this would fall apart.”, he had said and she hadn’t even considered leaving, until it was her only thought- from one night to the other. 

~

It was the noise that woke her, the shouting and slamming of doors. 

Her eyes darted to the door that connected her small bedroom to Charlie's nursery, before she remembered that he was staying with Mr. Shelby's older brother and his wife. 

Wrapping a scarf around her shoulders, she stepped out of her bedroom in search of the cause for this commotion. 

In the chilly darkness of the corridor, she could hear them long before she could see them, arguing in the hall. 

"Listen to me- eh!", Mr. Shelby roared, but stopped talking as soon as he heard her approaching. 

She could see him standing close to the foot of the stairs, wearing crumpled trousers, his bare chest revealing tattoos she had never known him to have, his dark hair ruffled. 

Her eyes followed his outstretched hand to a woman who was standing in the middle of the hall. 

She had never seen her before but it wasn't difficult to place her, after all, a Russian Duchess as a houseguest made the rounds quickly. 

She was wearing Mr. Shelby's coat and little more, her messy dark hair fell down her shoulders, her dark makeup was slightly smudged and her black eyes shone in the darkness. 

"Oi,", he called out, "Back to bed, now!", He ordered and she was about to obey, when the Duchess laughed and stretched her arm out, and in it she held a gun, casually as if it was a pen. 

All air was knocked from her lungs and she froze. 

"You there, pour us a drink!", She insisted. 

Her heart thundered in her chest, as she felt hawkish dark eyes locking in on her. 

When her dark lips turned into a smile, she felt her stomach coil. 

"No, get back to bed!", Mr. Shelby insisted. 

Her eyes darted back and forth between them. She knew his word was final, but he wasn't the one with the gun. 

"I told you to come here!", the Duchess snarled, her voice strained with impatience. 

Her chest tightened as she felt frightened tears come to her eyes. 

Her whole body trembled as she took a few uncertain steps forward, not daring to take her eyes away from the woman. 

She had barely reached the middle of the stairs, when Mr Shelby stopped her, blocking her descent with his body as his hand found her waist, feeling her body tremble. 

"Go to bed.", He told her. "Go."

"She has a gun.", She whimpered, blinking the tears away. 

"You should listen to her, Tommy!", the Duchess giggled. 

While glancing down, she saw her twirl her hair around the gun as if it was nothing. 

"You know in Russia, the lady of the house took care to have pretty maids and ugly nannies.", She chirped, as if this was as casual a setting as a lesson in good manners. 

It made her heart beat so fast she feared it would rip through her chest. Either that or give out forever. 

But it was a desperate, almost painful hope that made her look up through teary eyes at the only other person in the room, the only person that might save her. 

He’d tell her she was wrong, he’d take the gun from her, he’d make her stop. 

Mr. Shelby's jaw tightened, but he kept his distance, his eyes following the gun. 

"The only men who had pretty nannies were the widowers. That way there were no problems."

"Come on!", Mr. Shelby insisted, practically pushing her back up the stairs, while blocking the Duchess from sight, his hand burning in her back and arm. 

But he couldn't stop her from hearing the other woman's venom. 

"I do wonder why you hired your pretty little nanny far before your wife died."

"Go, go. It's alright.", He promised, as they came close to the top. "Go to bed. I won't let her bother you."

She ran the last few steps, and as soon as she was around the corner she pressed herself against the wall, but even that didn't still her trembling hands. 

Move, she told herself. Go. Hide. Do as he said. 

But her body had developed a will of its own, trembling like a leaf and frozen to the spot, as if all its strength was focussed on not crying out in fear or sobbing in desperation. She clasped a hand over her mouth and tried to calm her breathing. 

She could still hear them arguing, the Duchess teasing and Mr. Shelby trying to calm her down. 

"I thought it was me you wanted to dress up as her but it was that little thing up there all along.", She heard and her hand muffled her whimper. 

~

It was as if the Duchess had ripped open a drawer of her memory and had spread their contents all over the floor, forcing her to pick them all up again, look them over and rearrange them. 

Only on second glance, in this light, they all looked different, not explicit but doubtful. 

He had always been a good and kind employer, but what if there was some truth in what the Duchess had said? 

What if there even was a hint? 

It wasn't right- it couldn't be right. 

And she couldn't allow herself to be pulled in. 

So she had kept an eye out, wrote her letters, a few to the announcements in the papers, and another to him to explain her reasoning. 

It was easier to write than saying it to his face.  But of course, she couldn't hope to evade him forever. 

Mr Sheoby came while they were spending some time outside, sitting in the open air on a thick woollen blanket, both her and Charlie bundled up against the lingering yet fading winter cold. 

The first flowers had begun to come out now, and not even this place could escape the wind of change that carried spring each year. 

Beside her, Charlie was busy playing with the little wooden cubes, happily babbling to himself. That made it hard- harder than it should have been. 

She heard the steps before she saw the shadow, easily identifiable to her. She still could not meet his eyes, even if it was rude. 

When she didn't react to his satisfaction, he decided to clear his throat. 

"Might I join?", He asked impatiently. 

"Of course, Mr. Shelby. I'm sure you son would like that."

He sat down far too close to her for her liking, the fabric of his trousers almost brushing against her knee in the process. 

Instead of paying attention to Charlie, he simply stared at her. 

She didn't do him the favour of looking at him. She couldn’t. Her cheeks were burning with shame. 

"I gather you received my letter.”, she whispered, taking a deep breath to brace herself for whatever was to come now. 

"Good.", She said, staring straight ahead, to the trees and the river that lay beyond.

"I've decided to reject it."

He said it without anger, without malice. At best, he sounded annoyed that he had to deal with it in the first place, like she had somehow stretched the limitations of his patience with her request. 

"You can't reject a resignation.", She insisted. 

"Well I fucking do.", He said, sounding more exhausted than angry. 

She took a shaky breath and focussed on the treeline. Her hands had begun to tremble again and so she clutched the fabric of her dress. 

"I understand, you're upset and you have every right to be but you are needed here.”

“I want to leave.”, she insisted. 

Her voice cracked and she glanced away, clutching a hand over her mouth. 

But she refused to cry in front of him. 

"I understand.", He said, surprisingly gentle. "I understand your wish to leave, but I can't let that happen. So I'll let you draw up a number, any number, and I will see it in your account or your family's account by the end of the week. As high as you like. You could set them up for life if you want to.”

She felt like the ground had shifted under her once more and she was falling again. 

"I am not a thing to be bought and paid for.", She hissed. "I am a person and as a person, I have the right to decide and I have decided not to continue my employment here."

With you. 

He stared at her with that unreadable expression of his, those cold, unyielding eyes burning into her soul. 

"Are you finished?", He asked, sounding almost bored once more. "Good."

She felt her heart clench as his words. 

"I won't allow you to abandon Charles and that's the end of it.", he merely stated. 

"It's not yours to allow!", She said a little louder than she had intended, her voice thinning as her resolve slipped more and more. 

Charlie's head peaked up and he looked to her, his own summer sky blue eyes staring at her. 

"I will leave, Sir, and never come back.", She told him. 

His jaw muscles tightened as he stared at her profile, his piercing gaze burning itself into her skin just like the memories of that night that burned themselves into her soul. 

"I have to go now, but when I return, we talk."

"There is nothing to talk about.", She whispered as he got to his feet. 

"We will talk when I return tomorrow.", He said sternly, before walking off. 

~

Only Mr. Shelby didn’t return. 

She had her suitcases packed and went down to the kitchens to retrieve the sandwiches Mrs O’Sullivan had promised her for her journey when she heard the whispers - Mr. Shelby was dead, beaten to death by thugs in the street. 

It had shocked them all to their core, leaving them in paralysed uncertainty, and her in tears not for the man, but the little boy upstairs. Both parents dead within months was a harsh fate to suffer. 

The truth had come later, in the form of Mrs. Thorne who had told her the truth of it. Mr Shelby was very badly hurt and might die. When she found out of her plans to leave, she had begged her to stay given the seriousness of the situation. Once they knew what would become of Mr. Shelby, they could decide what to do about a replacement. 

And so she stayed, for Charlie’s sake. Otherwise he’d be left entirely without any constant person in his life and she couldn’t do that to him. But she should have done. 

~

She had agreed with Mrs Thorne that she would stay until a decision for her replacement could be made and that meant until Mr Shelby was well enough to look through candidates again, which he actually began to do. 

Once she saw that, she made preparations to leave in two weeks time. 

Five days before her departure, he called her into his office. 

"Have you found a new nanny for Charlie?", She asked, after sitting down across from him just like he had bid her. 

Mr. Shelby shook his head. 

"There's not much time left before I leave.", She told him. 

His response came ever calm, ever cool. 

"You won't leave."

Her heart skipped a beat. 

"Mr. Shelby, we've been through this.", She said. 

Too many times.

Slowly, Thomas Shelby turned back from the window and faced her, nodding towards a dark red file on his desk. 

"What is that?", She asked. 

"Take a read.", He said, leaning back and observing. 

She felt her heart thunder as she reached for it, fearing for whatever would be found inside, but to her surprise it was a letter of enrolment to one of the best schools for young girls in the country, a school of higher education with excellent recommendation and frightening prices. 

This letter was confirmation between the school and Mr. Shelby that the payment for the full enrollment of her sisters until their respective ages of graduations had been paid for. 

She stared up at him wide-eyed but before she could form any response he nodded towards the folder. 

“Keep reading.”, she demanded. 

She turned the page and skimmed the words. 

Next, she found another letter, this time to a name painfully familiar to her, a name she had heard all her life and one she had up to this point associated with kindness and generosity, with understanding of their situation. 

It was the name of her landlord, or rather the man that owned the land her family lived on and farmed. 

And unlike the previous letter, this deal had been sent and answered, confirming that the ownership had been transferred from him to Mr. Shelby, with an agreement not to inform the tenants and asking what was to be done about it- if they really had to remove them from the property. 

The authentic signature was like a stab to her stomach and the blood in her ears began to rush. 

As she had read, Mr. Shelby had moved across the desk to lean against it. 

"You see that there are two ways this can go?", He asked, calmly, as her chest began to tighten. 

Her lip began to tremble and she forced her burning eyes shut. 

“As long as you stay here, your sisters will be taken care of. Your mother won’t need to pay a dime in rent while I will make sure they have every comfort and renovation they could possibly want. Or…-”

He needn’t spell it out. 

His hand found her shoulders in an almost reassuring manner, as if he was the source of her comfort and not the sole cause of her troubles. 

He took the file from her shaking hands, placing it back on his desk amongst countless others- another box ticked business deal completed.

"I knew you'd understand."

The way he sounded, filled with not just pride but relief, made her sick to her stomach. 

He continued holding her shoulders between his hands as if to ease her tension, letting her look out at the vast lands of the Arrow House Estate. She had once liked the fact that one could look for miles and see nothing. 

"You belong here.", He told her as if it was meant to assure her. 

"Please, Mr. Shelby.", She whispered, whimpered even as her tears began to fall. 

“It’s not right. It’s just not right. Let me go home. Please.”

He only sighed in response, so she tried once more. She had to. 

“There are a thousand women like me, better suited to the task. Please Sir, think of your wife. She wouldn’t want-”

His grip tightened so suddenly it made her wince as he pulled her up to stand, spinning her around to face him. 

She saw anger flash in his pale blue eyes, and froze as he placed a single fingers on her lips. 

“Don’t.”, he said softly, and yet she wasn’t so foolish as to miss the warning that lay in them. 

“You know this is for the best.”, he assured her, gentle once more as he began to stroke the tears from her cheeks. 

When she shook her head, he held it between his hands until she couldn’t do so anymore. 

"Why me?", She dared to ask, forcing the words out through trembling lips. “I have nothing I could offer you. Please!”

He seemed almost amused by her answer and gave his response in the way one would talk to a child. 

"Because you are untouched by all the dirt, by all the filth. No blood on your hands. You are so pure."

She didn't feel pure now. 

She felt filthy, body and soul. 

Hot tears began to spill once more and instead of being appalled or angry, he pulled her into a tight, almost comforting embrace and let her cry, while gently stroking over the back of her head. 

I should have left long ago, she thought bitterly, her fingernails digging into the palms of your hand. I should have left when you were weak and wounded and dying. I should have left and never looked back. 

But she hadn’t. She had been too weak, too soft. And now it was too late. 

"I know you're upset.", He soothed. "But I think you understand too. You know this is what's best for everyone. After all, I couldn't have you breaking Charlie's heart."

End.

~

Thank you so much for reading! I hope you enjoyed and as always I'd love to hear your thoughts!

Taglist

Overall

@lilyrachelcassidy @jyessaminereads @chlorrox @watercolorskyy @books-livre @quarterpastmidnight  @lilyevanswhore  @polishcrazyone  @zablife  @just-a-harmless-patato  @stevie75 @flyingjosephine-blog @runnning-outof-time @cillmequick @alex-in-the-wilderness @babayaga67 @butterfly-skinnylegend

Tommy

@knowledgefulbutterfly @babayaga67 @signorellisantichrist @lespendy @geeksareunique @look-at-the-soul

#tommy shelby #thomas shelby #dark! tommy shelby #dark!tommy #tommy shelby x reader #thomas shelby x reader #dark!tommy shelby x reader #dark!tommy x reader #dark!thomas shelby x reader #tatiana petrovna #dark!tatiana #tommy shelby imagine #thomas shelby imagine #valentineswritings #peaky blinders #i'd do anything to make you stay

[wh0re-in-the0ry]

Types of animals I think the Chuckle/Sorry Boys would be

Note: I don't want to be too obvious, so Schlatt isn't a ram and Phil isn't a crow.

Schlatt-

Schlatt is a bear not the San Fransico kind specifically a grizzly bear. I mean it is pretty obvious when you think about it. Grizzlys are fucking huge, they avoid human interaction whenever possible, they mate maybe once every four years, and they enjoy taking long naps (hibernation). If that isn't Schlatt, I don't know what is.

Ted Nivison-

Ted is a pitbull/labrador mix. These types of dogs are kinda smart, energetic, very playful according to google. Also speaking from experience, these types of dogs are a tad bit silly, a wee bit funny, maybe even goofy if I do say so myself. Just looking at these two and my brain just think they are one in the same.

Slimecicle-

Slimecicle is an octopus. It's mainly because if I didn't know what either of them were and someone was to describe them to me, I would not believe them. I would also like to mention their ability to change appearances in a whim. Octopi have the ability to camouflage as many know, and Charlie's face becomes near unrecognizable without his glasses, also this might just be a me thing, but I feel like his face slightly changes in every photo he's in and it kinda scares me.

Tommy and Wilbur-

Tommy and Wilbur are ferrets. They are long creatures with a lot of energy and are very social animals. Those traits just fit really nicely with them, especially Tommy. The reason I made them both the same animal is 1) I am a sucker for the crime boys and 2) when getting a pet ferret, its highly recommended to get a second one for companionship so having only one ferret on the list wouldn't be right.

Also mildly hot take: I don't think Tommy is a racoon, idk why the fandom collectively agreed he was one. To be fair idk why I think he isn't one besides "the vibes don't fit" but I have a personal theory that the internet had a hyper fixation on racoons and Tommy at the same time, mashed them together, and it just stuck.

Ranboo-

I had the hardest time with Ranboo. A part of me wants to say a cat but specifically the cat in the All My Fellas meme because they are both so silly, but that kind of feels like cheating. After some thinking I settled for something. This one is a little shallow because its purely based on aesthetics but the jellyfish from Finding Nemo (which according to Reddit are the Sanderia malayensis). There's something about it's vibrant shade of pink and floaty-ness that suit R800 in my opinion. They are just neat to look at and pretty cool.

Philza-

Remember how I said Ranboo was the hardest to figure out? Well I lied. Crows are such a key part of Phil's brand, I would even argue that crows are more integral to Phil's brand then Rammie is to Schlatt's brand. I know that's a big claim, but Rammie is its own thing, is it iconic, yes but it can easily be separated from Schlatt. But with Phil it becomes much harder, C!Phil is always depicted as a bird/crow hybrid, in the majority of fanworks he's given crow features, his chat are crows. No matter how hard we try we can't escape the crows.

So, the next best thing was to replace the crow with an animal similar to it. And no, it won't be a raven or another bird because that feels like cheating.

I think rats can replace Phil's crows. Both are very smart animals that are very playful and are also quite social. Rats can symbolize death and plague similar to crows which is in line for the angel of death. They can also be stylized/drawn all cute for marketable plushies. Then there's the fact that rat features are easy to spot and draw, fanartist can easily slap on a couple ears, a tail, and those buck teeth rats have and there we have it: Ratza. Also for the Dadza/found family fans: rats are known to have big families and live in packs. Honestly in another tine line, I can see Ratza working just as well, if not better than Crowza.

. If y'all have any hypotheticals/ideas you guys want me to explore I am open to suggestions :]

-S

.

#chuckle sandwich #chuckle sammy #schlatt #jschatt #ted nivison #sorry boys #charlie slimecicle #slimecicle #tommy innit #tommyinnit #wilbur soot #philza #I put wayyy too much thought into this #it is 2:04 am #not as silly as I planned #:/

[padfootdaredmetoo]

Hello! I saw you opened requests... May I ask for a female character x Tommy Shelby?

Here's the plot: the protagonist wants to kill him cause he's responsible of her brother's death. She knows he's vulnerable due to Grace's death and she gets close to him taking advantage on his need to have someone beside. A night of love is the perfect moment in which she can carry out her plan, having him alone, disarmed and off guard.. (So NSFW is perfectly ok 😝)

Whether she ends up killing him or not is up to you 🍷 surprise me ✨

I'd just like to have the female protagonist on the "dominant" part. Like... In the show Tom is always the one who wants everything under his supreme control and many fics depict him as such ... Well, he gives me totally opposite vibes, if you know what I mean 😂

That's all ✨ I'm looking forward to reading this! ❤

This was a super fun request!!!! I hope I got what you mean..... I tried really hard. Honestly kind of a slut for sub Tommy. Never thought about it before- but - I might be in love.

Any way because I'm such a softy I made two ending options.... I'll let you all decide which one I was more into ;)

Warnings: dealing with loss, murder, gang type stuff, seduction with bad intentions, sex, oral sex fem receiving, orgasms, kinda kinky, hopefully hot

Eventually the moment he was dreading was clear in view. The large house came into sight making his stomach turn violently. As if sensing it Charlie started to kick up a fuss. His little cries for his mother doing nothing to settle the pain in his chest. 

Grace was dead. This house was horrible. Charlie seemed to loudly agree in his own way. So why did he come back? 

Appearances mostly. He needed to get his feet back on the ground and settle the situation. The Russians had a tight rope around his neck, if only they would pull a little tighter. The Italians were waiting in the shadows like hungry wolves. 

Charlie’s pudgy little hand tugged on the white collar of his shirt making him hate himself for thinking such things. 

He got Charlie settled back into the house, envious of the sleeping child next to him. He had no idea when the next time he would be able to rest. 

There was a lot of work to be done. 

______

Readers POV

Growing up in a mob family was not what most people expected. Your brothers carried an unhealthy amount of pressure, while you were completely ignored.

The Shelby - Italian feud had carefully made its way to your family. Your youngest brother was to prove himself to the family & organization by killing the ever annoying Thomas Shelby. Not a simple task by any means. 

You wished it was you that pulled the trigger, you wouldn't have missed. The aftermath of Grace Shelby’s body crumpling to the floor left you with two dead brothers, and an engagement to a man you hated. They fought hard to get out but it was no use. He went for a grand shooting in the middle of the room, your other brother's attempt to get him out was useless. Your stomach twisted as you knew taking a shot like that was a suicide attempt… Maybe this was his way out of the family business. Tears stung your eyes and you shook your head, surely he wouldn't have left the consequences on his siblings? 

You felt trapped by this grief, maddened by it. The way everyone reacted, especially your father, started a mass unraveling of your whole life. You became buried under harsh realizations and questions on how you were raised. Everything started to evaporate once they were dead, leaving you with a drive to fix the unfixable. You knew that there was no way out of your life's path, yet your mind was determined, spinning in blood lust. 

You laid in bed as the cool summer air caressed your skin. Mind engulfed by every bit of information you had collected about what had happened. The cocky smiles of their faces the last time you saw them slowly fading, replaced by the heavier, more traumatizing memory of their broken bodies being returned to your family. 

The rest of the crime families your father associated with thought it pathetic, and embarrassing. Out of shame or fear from the Shelby family, people started to try and back away from your father. This meant you were requested to marry into the Changretta family. You were given the task to clear the family name, strengthen bonds, bring the business back, all well someone else got to destroy Thomas Shelby….

A plan had started to form in the absence of sleep. They were your brothers, it was your family given the task, naturally it should be you to complete the task. If you could kill Thomas your family's reputation would be restored earning you enough praise to slip out of the unwanted marriage. Not to mention they would surely benefit from the division of the Shelby estate. 

You drape yourself in black fabric and sit in church everyday. Asking for forgiveness, asking for a direction forward. More than revenge, you wanted a way to escape all this life. Killing Thomas just seemed like the best way forward. Looking at the statue of Mother Mary in front of you, her eyes filled with something you’d never felt. You wanted her to tell you what to do. 

No clouds in the sky broke, sending a beam of light into the room. No one descended from the sky. No messages fluttering from the grand ceiling. 

Instead a group of girls sat in the back of the church attempting to speak in hushed whispers. You were annoyed at first, until you recognised one of the voices to be Ruth Berryman, a known friend of Ada Shelby. You listened as she described the family's peculiar way of grieving the loss of Grace. How Thomas had disappeared and would be returning to the public eye in a charity event hosted at his house. She went on to speculate that he’d hidden himself away to drown in women and opium. 

You didn't have any opium, but you were remarkably pretty when you wanted to be… All you needed to do was dress up and sneak in, then get Thomas alone.

A silence fell over the space as Elizabeth Gray made an entrance. You pulled your scarf around your head a little tighter as you watched her slender frame fall into a seat. She looked exhausted, you felt a strange sense of sadness for her. The image of your brothers flashing in your mind pushed that feeling down until it was unreachable. 

___________________

Your parents were more distant than ever, no one noticed you plotting away in your bedroom. As long as you were on top of your wedding planning no one paid you any notice. The loneliness started to seep into your bones again, making you feel weighed down. You poured another cup of coffee trying to shake the feeling off. Everyone would see you clearly once this was over…

The night of the event had come around. You had an entrance secured and a clear exit plan. 

You looked over your body in the gold framed mirror. The fabric rested heavily on your curves. You would never normally wear anything like this, and you couldn't escape the powerful feeling it gave you. Your body was displayed in a way that was elegant while also being undeniably sexy. You pinned your dark hair up and did your make up. 

You’d never seduced anyone before but looking over your final look you felt it shouldn't be too hard.

You pulled up to the large house, leaving your car down by the road. You were late enough that no cars were pulling up the drive to notice your descent on the house. Your long black wool coat covered you from chin to ankle, making you look a part of the woven night. 

You made your entrance under a fake name and joined the mess without anyone thinking twice about you. 

_________________________

Tommy POV

He wished that this event had been unnecessary. The effort it took to stand about moving from conversation to conversation was almost unbearable. His bones were on fire, head pounding, all he could do was pour more whiskey and hoped it would take the edge off. The night dragged on, until a woman caught his eye. 

She was tall, wrapped in a tight red dress, and had a look in her eye. The room seemed to be swallowed by her presence, the light bending to wrap around her. Her dark eyes held a gaze that made it hard to breathe. She walked over to him like this was her house, tall and proud, despite not being invited. 

“Mr. Shelby.” Her voice floated around him like smoke. She looked content as he held the silence between them, searching her eyes for what secrets they were holding. 

“I don’t believe we’ve met?”

“Y/N L/N” She held her hand out to him. He knew she was lying but he couldn't help but the wave of desire that crashed over him and holding her slender fingers in his hand. 

They chatted for a while, no mention of Grace, or work. He met everyone of her lies and questions with honesty. He watched as his answers spun around in her eyes, she seemed conflicted, but not surprised. He wanted to impress her, but she was unmovable, like stone. She conducted the conversation, and decided which of his answers she wanted to elaborate on. 

Things started to wind down, and he regretfully had to remove himself from her presence to wrap the evening up. She showed no interest in leaving, pouring herself another glass of whiskey. 

Polly set in on him about how stupid this was, but he shrugged it off. He knew that there was something this woman wanted to say to him, he was determined to figure it out. Everything about her was weighted heavily with significance. She was here for a reason, maybe because of the Russians, maybe the Italians, but he felt it was something above business. She had nothing vicious in her eyes, there was something she wanted desperately, but it wasn't violence. 

___________________________

Readers POV 

Thomas Shelby was an interesting man. He didn't try to step on your toes, he let you lead the conversation. Never mocking, always hanging on your words. His answers were not what you expected. He wasn't what you expected. Every time you touched him you felt something bigger than grief for the first time in so long. 

Eventually he took you into his study to wait while he wished his guests well. You listened as his family loudly made their way upstairs. Stumbling and laughing on the stairs. Elizabeth Gray’s voice carried into the office as she laughed and poked fun at another Shelby woman. 

You thought about snooping around his desk but you were stopped by the picture of a woman staring back at you. 

His wife's eyes found the words in the back of your head and twisted them painfully. She was dead, and the sadness in him was still very visible to someone who was grieving just the same. Dead at the hands of your brother. He flashed before you and you started to feel sick. 

It was either this or be married. Unfortunately your mind was already set. 

Thomas entered the room slowly, his eyes dragging over your lounging body. The couch was comfortable and the fire light only made everything seem more warm and  intimate. 

“Sit with me?” It was meant to be a question but it came out more like an order. He looked at you for a moment before sitting next to you. He was so close you could feel the cold air still attached to his suit jacket. 

You didn’t want to talk anymore. It would only make this harder for you in the long run. You needed to get him out of his jacket, make sure he didn't have any weapons still on him. 

You raised your hand to brush your fingertips along the short hair on the side of his head. He closed his eyes, and leaned into your touch, your heart gave a twinge as the fire light only made him look more tired. 

You were going to fuck up if you kept this up. You dragged your hand down and tugged on his jacket, he wordlessly removed it. 

“And the vest” You whispered, there was something in his eyes that made you hate yourself. A wetness started to pool between your legs, even your own body was betraying you. 

You pulled your skirt up your thighs and moved to straddle his lap. His hands went to your hips to help settle you into place. You felt the power of sitting here on his lap, his eyes heavy as he looked at you. 

“Do you want to kiss me?” You asked in a smoky tone. His eyes flashed in a way that made you feel like gravity had increased. You were falling into him more and more.

“Yes” His tone was breathy and you wished things were different as you studied him. He was so willing to let you take charge. You liked being seen. 

He waited patiently for your mouth to reach his, he let your lips take charge, and you deepened the kiss slowly. He was breathless, cheeks flushed, his hands were digging into your hips painfully. You loved the way he clung to your body, how badly he needed you to take his pain away. 

Your hand wrapped around the side of his neck causing him to moan. You pushed his head back to rest on the top of the couch exposing the length of his pale throat. You went in for a deeper kiss, holding his neck firmly in place you—----

Option one: 

Take your other hand up to your chest and pull the small knife from between your breasts. Quickly you drag it across the skin of his neck. He gasped into your mouth as the blood started to rush down his body. You looked into his eyes and admired the love you felt. 

“Thank you” He whispered softly. You held his body while he left this earth for something better. He slipped away so peacefully you knew that it must have been more of a favor to him than anything. 

The house was quiet and you made your way to the window behind the desk and slipped away into the night peacefully. Things went back to usual in your family so you decided it was in your best interest to move on. The war got worse, Tommy's brothers took over and his Aunt was determined to destroy your family. You had the money, so you ran away, unnoticed, placing as much distance between you and Birmingham as possible.

Option Two:

You stopped suddenly. Looking over his face.

“Tell me what it is.” He whispered, pupils blown out. You knew that it would be suicide to tell him the truth. Death seemed like a friend you would greet with open arms. Your vision was filled with the photo on his desk, his wife. His dead wife. The smaller photos of a little boy. Eyes bright, motherless. You pressed your head against his and took a shaky breath. 

“My brother - I - I came here to kill you.” You watched how his face didn't change. Stayed just as relaxed and calm. 

“What have you decided then?” He asked like he was asking if it was raining. You knew a part of him wishes you would go through with it, just like there was a part of you that would be more than happy to die at his hand. 

“I can’t do it.” You said feeling a weight lift off of you. 

“Why not?” His eyes were back in focus now searching you. 

“You feel different -” You couldn't explain it. He was different and it was intoxicating. “And you have a kid upstairs.” You shook your head. You would either die right here, or you would go home to die everyday beside your husband. Either way you’d finally made your choice. 

His big hands ran along your body and you could see him weighing his options carefully. 

“Be a shame if either of us died without fucking first eh?” 

You nodded at his crude words and your mouths met again instantly. 

You both fought for control at first, ripping each other's clothes off, hands groping frantically. You ended up falling off the couch landing flat on your back. The texture of the carpet was surprisingly soft and the heat from the fire kept you comfortable. He parted your legs, leaning down towards you. You gripped a handful of the longer hair at the top of his head and used all your strength to push his head where you wanted it. He let out a deep moan as you pressed his face into your hot flesh. He submitted entirely and ate you out like he was starved. Tongue caressing you coupled with the sharp suction created by his mouth had you writhing. 

“Ah yes. So good. Fuck -Tom” Your words came spiraling out of you as he worked you over. His eyes flashed up at you with a different kind of need. He wanted to make you happy, he wanted to know it made you happy. 

You were getting close, but you wanted to cum around him. You pushed his face off and he got up on his knees, heavy cock standing proudly. You wrapped your slender finger around him, the walls off your pussy fluttering at the size of him. God he was going to destroy you. You could see he was about to lose his patience with your hand, you were naked and strung out. It was his time to take charge. 

“Are you ready?” You asked him, tightening your grip on him, you wanted to push him further. 

“Yes” He moved toward you but you only squeezed him further causing him to moan. 

“See if I’m ready” You whispered into his ear like it was a dirty secret. You felt his fingers push into you slowly and his head dropped to rest on your shoulder. You let out a moan when his fingers rubbed against the spot you needed him the most. 

“Feels so good, so good at stretching me open” You whisper, feeling his jaw clench against your neck. You wanted to see his face but wouldn't push him. You had no idea what you were doing or why it felt this good. 

“Feel how wet you made me?” He let out a deep groan and you felt his cock twitch in your hand. 

“You think I'm wet enough?” 

“Yes” He answered out of breath. 

“Are you sure? You're so big” 

“Fuck - Yes” He was so far gone and you’d barley touched him. You were fairly confident that you could make him cum just like this, and it would still be the hottest thing that had ever happened to him. 

“You want to fuck me now?” You pulled his cock against your wet folds causing him to make a small strangled noise. 

You took that as the answer it was, lining the head of his cock up with your wet entrance you guided his hips forward. You expected him to take over, rip through you to find his release, take his revenge. Instead he followed the wordless directions of the hand you had placed on his hip. This time it was your turn to groan. He stretched you out so slowly, soon you were at your limit. Taking all of him was a beautiful and painful task. Guiding him to pull out and slowly move back in pleasure won over the pain and your hips moved to meet his shallow thrust.

“God, you fill me so well” You felt his body melt under the praise. You guided his hips in and out of you slowly feeling yourself slip away. The pace got quicker gradually and eventually he was fucking you with a stregth that ruined you for anyone else. 

There was only so much you could take before you demanded he touch you. His thumb circled your clit, his body pushing you somewhere it hadn't been before.

“Please, dont stop - Tom - Ah - youre going to make me cum - fuck baby make me cum” Words spiraled out of your moth and he drank each one of them down. Fucking you harder, he took you over the edge, your body swallowing him. Walls rhythmically contracting pull him over the edge spilling inside you. He rode both of the orgasms out before collapsing on you. Your arms held him tightly, not wanting him or the feeling inside you to go. 

He broke your hold and held himself above you. His hand came up to caress the side of your neck and you took one last look of his blue eyes before closing your own. You tilted your chin up exposing his neck. You waited for his other hand to embrace your neck, for him to take your life. 

“Promise you won’t bring harm to me or my family.” 

Your eyes flew open and met his gaze. “I promise” He gave you a nod then pulled out of you slowly. His mouth moved to suck a deep mark into your throat before he pushed himself back inside you. After pulling another orgasm from you he cleaned the both of you up. 

“What are your plans for next friday?” He asked as you both sat on the floor in front of the couch. You were sipping whiskey and smoking cigarettes unsure of what to make of the situation that just happened. 

“I’m supposed to be getting married.” 

“For business or love?” 

“Business, my brothers couldn't kill you and that led to a lot of problems.” 

His face twisted briefly remembering the problems it caused him as well. He was quiet and you felt yourself yearning to apologize. 

“We both lost a lot because of this. I don't even know who started all of  it but I’d like to end it. Leave all of it, everyone and thing behind if I could” He studied you carefully before lighting another cigarette. 

“How bout I make a counter offer then?” His words hit you like a truck. Surely he couldn't be serious. 

“I’ll marry you. Take the territory that would have been handed down to your brothers. In return you can do what you like within reason and the fighting stops.”

You thought about it for a long moment. You thought about all the plans everyone was making, how much destruction was about to move into action.  

“Can I do what I like to you?”You asked in a cheeky tone, desperate to stop thinking about everything. You watched his gaze get hungry. 

“Most certainly” 

“I won't share you. With anyone, ever” The words were out of your mouth before you realized what you said. He may not love you, this may be for business, but the thought of someone else touching him and having him like that caused your blood to boil.

“Somehow I don't think that will be a problem” The corner of his mouth pulled up into a ghostly smile. 

You clink your glasses together and fell back into a comfortable silence, your head resting on his shoulder. 

___

They did get married, it was a business deal that ended the feuding. (Saving John) 

She freaks out about how to look after Charlie because her parents were so distant towards her growing up that she has no idea what to do. Polly and her bond over this. Charlie almost immediately gets attached to her. Eventually she proves herself to the rest of the family. 

She takes good care of Tommy, giving him someone to trust. But she's very opinionated and they fight a lot. Its explosive and usually ends with them fucking against any surface. She just wants the family to be protected and doesn't like taking big risks. So they balance each other out a little. Tommy’s calm and she’s so tired of being calm that the first chance she gets to lay into someone she takes it. 

The first time she had to kill someone it was to protect Charlie. She broke down after the situation because she almost did that to Tommy. Everything she had now - a family that loved her and respected her, a husband that paid attention / was kind to her, a little boy that called her mum and ran to her every time he was scared - She got all of that from Tommy - He has to hold her for hours before she calms down. That's when they realize that they really love each other.

Tags list: @tommydoesntpayforsuits @misselsbells06 @kpopgirlbtssvt

If anyone wants to be added to the list just let me know in my inbox!

#I hope this is good #Tommy shelby #tommy shelby x reader #tommy shelby smut #tommy shelby imagine #Thomas Shelby #been trying to work on it for forever #thomas shelby x reader #Thomas Shelby smut #Peaky binders #peaky blinders imagine #Peaky blinders request #peaky blinders fanfic

[kevinychen]

Talkeetna (7/14)

Today we had two big things planned: rafting at 2:30pm, and a flight over Denali at 6.

Fortunately, even though we had a habit throughout this vacation of sleeping in until our first scheduled event, we did not bum around until 2:30. Instead, in the morning (ok, maybe it was late morning), Becky realized that Bernard from the night before had called her beloved pineapple weed plant "chamomile", as in chamomile tea. So after briefly foraging outside and preparations inside, she created a cup of homemade chamomile tea!

But tea isn't a complete meal. So we went to a food truck called Spinach Bread.

Just as we were looking at the menu but Natalle was looking away, someone came out, took down the board with the menu, and replaced it with a new one. Natalle looked back after she walked away. "Huh, how'd the menu suddenly change?"

Naturally, none of us told her. We're all really mean people.

It turned out that the food truck excepted only cash. This was a little worrisome because we altogether only had about $80. This was just enough to cover two spinach breads, four burritos, and a couple of drinks.

It turned out that altogether, we only finished two and a half burritos anyway. But I started getting really worried now that we were completely cashless. I was so anxious about being cashless that I even went back to the car to check if I had any spare bucks in my backpack. We went to a couple of ATMs, but none of them would except our credit cards, which even added an additional worry that they were stealing our credit card information, though Becky helped to alleviate that concern because it would be ridiculous for them to do that.

Later, after the trip, I would realize that I had $300 stashed in a hidden backpack pocket the entire time. Oops.

We were now full. But that only means that our non-dessert stomachs were full. We still had plenty of room for Shirley's Ice Cream! Natalle got the signature fireweed ice cream, while Becky got the Northern Lights, which was basically vanilla ice cream with a bunch of fruit-flavored ice bits mixed in. Becky could immediately detect that the fireweed ice cream tasted subtly of honey, but nobody else believed her. She made everybody take two bites of Northern Lights to desensitize their taste buds to the vanilla ice cream, and then try the fireweed. Before anyone else realized it, she succeeded in her plan to get us to help her finish her ice cream.

After finishing the ice cream, and after doing a bit of souvenir shopping, we realized we still had a bit of time to kill. So we drove back to the Airbnb, where Natalle impressively was able to take a 20 minute nap. We then headed back to downtown Talkeetna.

Tommy forgot a water bottle. Luckily, some of us had brought extra. Unluckily, Tommy was too prideful to use our water. So at 2:29pm, he ventured away to find some water to buy. Meanwhile Becky checked in at their rafting location where they told her that they were about to leave. Becky frantically searched for Tommy.

When we got to the rafts, Tommy was disappointed. "I thought that we would get to paddle ourselves."

Unfortunately, I immediately forgot the name of our rafter, but she had a cute dog named Charlie who slept on my lap for most of the beginning of the trip. That's easy to remember because I have a friend who also has a female dog named Charlie.

The rafter showed us many of the same berries along the coast that Bernard had shown us the day before. She even picked some red currant berries for us.

We finished rafting. Like I mentioned above, we were out of cash. So neither the rafter nor her dog got any tips.

Our scheduled guided plain ride to Denali was in a few hours. I had mentioned earlier that Becky and Natalle had wanted to make smores over the fire pit at our Airbnb, but we didn't buy any fire starter at Anchorage. So we set out to find some here.

We went to the (only) general store. They didn't have any, but they suggested we try a lodge a couple minutes drive away.

We went to the lodge. But they didn't have any either. They suggested the general store.

We went to the general store. They didn't have any, but they suggested we try the lodge...

...

Somehow we ended up in Denali Brew Pub for dinner. I got a pulled pork sandwich, where the pork was kind of dry, but the brioche bun was super nicely toasted. Also Becky had the great idea of ordering a bunch of sides, which made me very happy.

We made it to the airport for the Denali plane flights. They had to reduce our flight time from 90 minutes to 75 minutes. While we waited for the pilots, Natalle found a swing! Though she didn't appreciate me taking a sneaky picture.

What are you doing? ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

When our pilot arrived, he told us that we would be the only four passengers on the plane! At first I thought this was awesome, but then I realized that meant the plane would be really really small. And really really small plane = really really bumpy ride = high potential for getting sick = possible death.

There was only one escape from death in the confined space. I learned it from reading Artemis Fowl. And that was to fall asleep. My brain started preparing the ritual to start falling asleep.

Tommy wasn't afraid. He took the cockpit seat. Is it even allowed to have someone who isn't a pilot in that seat? Wait, what if our only pilot gets a heart attack, or suddenly turns mentally incapacitated? Then wouldn't we be screwed? We would fall and crash to the ground, screaming for our lives.

Ah right, my sleeping brain is psycho. We successfully flew to Denali, tallest mountain in North America. But because of the fog, we could only see some of the surrounding mountains.

It's crazy how big and tall these mountains are. They didn't even look that big in real life (because it was hard to process the scale), let alone in the photos.

Anyway, we made it back without dying. Maybe this should have warranted a tip, but again, we didn't have any cash. Or at least, any cash that I knew about :(

So we went back to the Airbnb to attempt to make s'mores without fire starter. Fortunately, we had professional nature survivor Tommy tending to the fire, smart Becky using the bark from logs, and me saying words of encouragement. And we were able to come up with this:

We managed to make 4 delicious s'mores.

Then we quit and went back inside to play games. But what game? Bridge? Charades? Instead of deciding, we just alternated! Alternation Bridge Charades!

#alaska

[linktoo-doodles]

He remembered what was important

#quackity #charlie slimecicle #tommyinnit #dsmp #dream smp #my art #Linktoo art #tommy is not a replacement for charlie by any means #but quackity's tenderness in how he talked to tommy recently it just... wow #their dynamic means so much to me #quackity's lost so much. he's not gonna lose another kid

[oddaodd]

· I Don't Go In For Sweets ·

Request: by a lovely anon "set after the events of season 3. Tommy can't handle the company, he's still grieving and he has to be there for Charlie so Polly tells him she knows a girl from a good family to get married He ends up agreeing (aunt Pol can be very persuasive) but even though he's married, this new girl isn't considered as a wife. He doesn't really make any effort but his "wife" understands, he's a widowed father who lost his first wife only a year ago. However since they are...in this, she wants to make her time as enjoyable as possible for the both of them and for Charlie too. But no matter what Tommy makes it a point of honor to not let her in, to not let her replace Grace so he ignores her, he works more, tries to spend as little as possible in the house. Reader stays patient, it will be alright and Charlie is making her quite busy anyway. One night, Tommy comes home completely drunk and maybe a bit high too, he can't even make it to his office. Thankfully Reader is still awake, she takes care of him and Tommy just...melts at how gentle Reader is, he may be able to keep his distant while sober but it's much harder in his state. He admits to her how he's been feeling and all. Ever since that night, something changed, Tommy feels some comfort, some solace being around her, she accepts him wholly, even his flaws, the bad side of his business and she tries to provide some sort of safe place for when it gets too hard." (I edited the request because it was very long, but I kept all essential parts in there)

Author’s note: I loved loved loved writing this and it ended up being SUPER long, but I’m very happy with how it turned out. As always, I hope you like it and have the loveliest of days!

Warnings: season 3 SPOILERS sort of, but not really, still read at your own risk. Arranged marriage, mentions of alcohol and drugs, angst.

·

“Thomas, you may not be able to see it, but you’re breaking apart” Polly spoke with a sigh as she lit a cigarette after everyone was dismissed from a family meeting.

Everyone had left Tommy’s office in arrow house rather gaily after receiving their fair compensations for partaking in the whole Russian ordeal, all except Polly, who remained where she sat, wishing for a word with her nephew

Tommy merely scoffed at her concern before lighting his own cigarette and taking a puff “I’ll be alright”

“And Charlie?” Pol pressed knowing Tommy’s mourning was not only affecting him, but Charlie as well. “What about him?”

“He’s fine” He said before turning around to look through the window, ignoring his Aunt’s heavy stare.

“You take too much after your mother” she sighed half angry half sad “she too loved pretending everything was alright and I don’t need to remind you where that lead her”

Tommy sighed deeply, he knew he could fool anyone. Anyone but Polly. “We’ll manage”

“Consider my offer” Polly said standing up and making her way to the door “Y/n is a good girl from a good family” she persuaded before leaving the room.

Tommy sighed at his Aunt’s words, he wasn’t ready to get married again even when he knew the woman he would be marrying was a nice one. He felt like he was spitting on Grace’s grave and he hated himself for even considering the prospect, but he knew a mother figure would be good for Charlie.

He spent the rest of the day pondering about Polly’s suggestion and remembering his own childhood in the shadow of the absent tortured presence that his mother had been. It didn’t take him long to decide he didn’t want that for Charlie, so that same night he phoned Polly.

“I’ll do it” was all he said before hanging up. There was no need for more words, Polly would know exactly what he meant.

Exactly a week later, Tom was standing in the altar of a church that was significantly smaller than the one from his first wedding. The fact that everything about this wedding was so obscenely different from his first did soothe his guilt a bit. And as he stood there he couldn’t keep his mind from traveling to the days leading up to his wedding to Grace. She had made sure everything was perfect and had made an effort to invite every single relative she could think of. She remembered her rambling on an on about fabrics, insisting that everything ought to be perfect when he in all honestly couldn’t care less, he just wanted to marry her.

All his thoughts vanished away with a poof when Y/n came into sight. And what a sight she was. She had insisted on doing her own makeup and on pinning flowers to her hair to compliment her headpiece and her elegant, yet simple white dress flowed almost mystically as her father gave her away. She had never imagined she would be marrying someone she didn’t know, but she wanted to look her best for getting married is not something people do everyday.

When she stood in the altar, she offered her to be husband a smile which he did not return, instead turning his attention to the priest before them. She mirrored his actions, her heart beating violently under her chest as the priest began speaking.

It all felt like a blur, she could swear it had only been a second since her father had given her away and yet, the priest had already uttered the dreaded “you may now kiss the bride”

Tommy barely brushed his lips against hers and soon the sound of everyone clapping invaded her ears. They had a small party afterwards in Y/n’s former house. Her parents had invited pretty much all of their acquaintances while tommy had only invited his close relatives.

When night fell Tommy was more than ready to leave “Are you ready to go?” was one of the few sentences he uttered to his now wife that night.

She again offered him a smile before saying “yeah just let me say goodbye”

The drive to arrow house was tense, although Y/n didn’t know Thomas very well she would tell he was unhappy. She wondered about what to say to him, but couldn’t come up with anything good enough and soon enough they were pulling over in front of Tommy’s stately home.

“Charlie must already be asleep, but I'll introduce you tomorrow” he said opening Y/n’s door for her.

“It’s alright” she said looking at him, not quite knowing what to do next.

“Your parents sent some of your belongings, I've already asked the maids to take them up to your-our room” he said

“Thank you, Thomas” she smiled as she walked into the big house not yet feeling close enough to him to call him Tommy.

His name falling from her lips caused an echo of bittersweet emotions to stir inside him but he masked it perfectly well as she introduced Y/n to the maids that went to the door to take their coats.

“Frances here will show you the way to the room” he said after having made introductions.

“This way, Mrs” Frances politely said.

Y/n began following her but stopped when she didn’t hear Tommy’s footsteps behind her own.

“Are you not coming?” she asked turning to look at him.

“Maybe in a bit” was all he said before he walked away down one of the many spacious hallways of the house.

After Y/n made herself comfortable in the room and changed into her nightgown she took the time to peek around the room like one always does when one is a strange place. After familiarizing herself with it she laid down in the big bed. She was nervous, she knew what happened on wedding nights. A small chuckle stopped at her lips when she recalled the stories her close already married girlfriends told her. If she hadn’t married a complete stranger she too would be looking forward to it.

Her thoughts ended up luring her to sleep after a while despite her nerves and the night went by in a ridiculously fast flash. The next morning she woke up alone and after getting ready she made her way downstairs. Tommy and Charlie were already in the dining room when she entered it.

“good morning” she said

Charlie immediately turned his attention to her, his eyes widening while his dad merely glanced at her while he muttered a “Good morning “ of his own.

Y/n sat down next to Tommy while he cleared his throat “charles, this is Y/n. We got married yesterday so she’ll be living with us from now on”

Charlie merely nodded in understanding before playing around with his food.

A tense air flooded breakfast until Tommy stood up, having barely touched his food and spoke turning to look at Y/n “I have to go now, if you need anything feel free to ask Frances”

“Alright” Y/n replied feeling a bit disappointed, she would love to get to know him, but she already knew it was going to be difficult.

“I have to go too” Charlie announced in a timid voice, interrupting Y/n’s thoughts. Despite her disappointment she understood, maybe he was just shy and his dad just reticent. They had lost a wife and a mother after all.

The first few days after that, Charlie avoided her nearly as much as his father did and Y/n remained in lonely patience until one night Charlie’s cries interrupted her focus on the book that she had just bought. She rushed to his room and called out his name as she entered not knowing if the boy would be comfortable with her or not.

“What is it?” she asked worried as she knelt by his bed.

“I miss my mum” the boy confessed looking at her with teary eyes as he clutched his blanket.

Y/n felt her heart give a small ache at his confession and in an attempt to comfort him she spoke “She’s not really gone, you know?”

“She’s dead” the boy sobbed.

“but people who die, don’t leave us. Not really anyhow” she said hesitantly rubbing his arm. “just because we cant see them doesn’t mean they are not here”

“I miss seeing her” he continued.

“Oh but you can still see her”

“how”

“before you go to bed just think about her, then she’ll visit you in your dreams” Y/n spoke as if she was telling a fairy tale.

“really?” the boy’s eyes widened.

“really” Y/n confirmed “But you have to think really really hard”

“I’ll try” Charlie said having calmed down a bit.

“very well” Y/n said as she stood up, but Charlie’s voice stopped her.

“can you stay till I fall asleep?”

After that night, Charlie hardly left Y/n’s side and she felt much better with his company for she was sure if he wasn’t there keeping her on her toes all day she would fall into a depressive chasm induced by her husband’s absence.

On the rare moments he was home she tried to strike up conversation with him over breakfast or late at night when he came home and she was burdened by insomnia. But Tommy only humored her with a few short responses before excusing himself or turning to face the other side of the bed.

It wasn’t only the fact that he avoided her as much as he could, but he also made it a priority to exclude her at all times. She was never invited into family meetings or night’s at The Garrison so she thought it was a miracle when tommy didn’t oppose to her planning Charlie’s birthday party.

She invited only Tommy’s family which instantly warmed up to her, noticing what a good influence she was and Polly wanted to slap Thomas for the way he had been acting throughout his marriage to Y/n. Almost feeling guilty for getting her into this mess.

When the party ended Tommy shut himself in his office like he often did when he was at home and though he had never given Y/n a reason to believe she was welcome in there of all places, she found herself allowing herself in after putting Charlie to bed.

Tommy looked up as she entered and let out a sigh before turning his attention back to some papers he had been reading.

“I noticed you didn’t have any” she commented not letting his sigh deflate her as she laid a plate with a slice of homemade chocolate cake on his desk. “it’s really good if I may say so myself” she mused sitting down in a chair opposite to his as she dug in with a fork in her own slice.

“I don’t go in for sweets” he stated.

“Not even chocolate?” Y/n tried, but tommy didn’t answer, instead he just shook his head.

“I still think you should try it, it’s not overly sweet, and…”

“is there anything you need?” he interrupted bluntly a bit harsher than he would’ve liked.

His tone caught her off guard and when she couldn’t come up with an answer tommy again turned his attention back to his papers.

“I wish you could let me in” She softly confessed after a few tense seconds.

“Well I wish we hadn’t married but I guess things don’t always go the way we want them to go”

Tommy knew he had crossed a line by the silence that again settled into the room. He looked up at Y/n with her parted lips and misty eyes. They exchanged glances for a second but instead of allowing him to see her like that any longer, she stood up setting her plate on his desk and walked away, only allowing a few tears to drop by when she was out of the room and his sight.

After that she stopped trying to get closer to him. He still loved his late wife and she understood, people in grief never mean what they say after all, but his words stung nonetheless.

She stopped trying to wait for him at night to see if he had gotten home alright and during breakfast she only uttered polite good mornings.

One night however, Y/n was yanked out of a peaceful sleep by a loud crash. She was on her feet in no time and after checking into Charlie’s room to see if he was alright she cautiously ventured downstairs. A few incoherent mumbles filled her ears before her husband came into sight, fumbling with his coat to get it off.

“need help?” she asked earning his attention.

“I’m fine” he said finally taking it off but as he went to take a step to begin walking the floor under him moved and he lost his balance, his knees crashing loudly against the wooden floor.

Y/n offered him a hand and helped him up. He smelled of whiskey and cigarettes, his hands were shaky, consequence of the snow, no doubt. “let’s get you upstairs”

“I can do it on me own” he slurred letting go of her hand.

“stop being so stubborn” she derided, snaking one of her arms around his waist as she helped him upstairs.

Y/n helped him into bed, tookoff his shoes and went to the bathroom to fetch a small towel and some cold water.

She dampened the towel with the cold water before dabing it gently on Tommy’s forehead. His eyes never leaving her face as she did so, making her grow a bit nervous. She continued, trying her best to ignore it until she felt his hand softly caressing her cheek.

“You are beautiful” he rasped.

“Stop it, Thomas” she said feeling her cheeks grow red when she felt a bit sad that he had to be completely drunk to compliment her.

Even in his drunken state he seemed to notice he was making her uncomfortable so he held his tongue until Y/n laid in bed next to him after turning on the lights.

“I’m sorry” he interrupted the silence “For the way I’ve been acting” the whiskey and cocaine making him more vulnerable and open “I guess I was afraid that if I let you in then she would disappear”

He didn’t expect her to answer, but then her voice came in a soft exhausted tone“ I don’t intend to replace her. You don’t need to act all defensive and secretive. Even if it’s not what you wanted, we are married.”

“I Know” was all he said.

Y/n expected him to withdraw more from her after showing himself that vulnerable to her that night but she was wrong. He began arriving home earlier, sometimes even asking if he could come along on the walks she and Charlie so much adored going on. And Y/n finally felt her marriage was going somewhere maybe it wasn’t based on love yet, but it was something.

One day she was at the stables while Charlie was taking a nap. She had always adored horses.

“I didn’t know you liked horses” came Tommy’s smooth voice causing her to jump.

“You never asked” she smiled petting a black horse as he walked closer to her.

“We could go out for a ride, I’m sure Charlie wouldn’t mind letting you borrow his horse” Tommy offered as he too began to pet the horse, his fingers brushing against Y/n’s for a brief second.

“I’d love to, but I am afraid I don’t know how to ride, Tommy” she said, panicking for a second after having called him that. But she rested assured as soon as he spoke again.

“Well that can be fixed” he said opening the door of the stall and guiding the horse outside.

“You mean now?” Y/n asked with a laugh.

“Got something better to do?” he asked walking out of the stable with the horse. Y/n observed tommy as he prepared the horse. She had never seen him so gentle and calm before and she only realized she had been staring when Tommy directed his attention to her to ask her if she was ready.

“I think so” she said going to stand next to the horse wondering how the hell to climb up. But before she had any more time to think she felt Tommy’s hands on her waist giving her a push that allowed her to pull herself up on the animal. It was a good thing she had chosen to wear slacks that day, she thought.

“Goodness this is high” she said nervously looking down at Tommy when he began guiding the horse to move in a slow walk.

“Don’t worry, I won’t let you fall” he promised repressing a mirthful tone at her nervousness.

He guided the horse with her around the property in the crisp evening air and Y/n allowed herself to relax with every step the horse took. Tommy’s presence made her feel safe and protected and she found it increasingly harder to look away from his figure. She wondered if he could feel her eyes on him.

When the sky began turning soft shades of purple and orange the pair returned to the stables. When the time came from Y/n to come down from the horse, tommy helped her again. Y/n began to love the feeling of him touching her and when her feet touched the ground in front of Thomas, he didn’t remove his hands from her waist right away and instead fixed his blue eyes on her, not wanting to stop looking at her.

She too fixed her eyes on Tommy as she felt a silent gasp in the base of her throat. That was the way she would’ve liked him to look at her on their wedding day. Tommy then leaned in, almost as if he were asking for permission before he tenderly pressed his lips to Y/n’s.

·

@captivatedbycillianmurphy @peakyxtommy @nyotamalfoy @writeroutoftime @babylooneytoonz @slytherinicequeen @lilymurphy03

#tommy shelby request #tommy shelby #tommy shelby angst #tommy shelby fluff #tommy shelby imagine #tommy shelby one shot #tommy shelby x reader #thomas shelby request #thomas shelby one shot #thomas shelby fluff #thomas shelby x reader #thomas shelby imagine #thomas shelby angst #peaky blinders angst #peaky blinders request #peaky blinders x reader #peaky blinders one shot #peaky blinder one shot #peaky blinder imagine

[defectfile1wav]

Once again, I’m here to remain all of you, that If you think c!Slimecicle is a replacement for Ghostbur you’re losing one of the best and terrifying experiences ever in the SMP.

/CW: Mentions of:  Dead animals/ Death / Vore / Torture / AND:  Swearing / Ranting / meta (??) and bad English

COMPARING THESE TWO, IT’S LIKE COMPARING THE BEACH WITH THE BOTTOM OF THE SEA. 

One thing is a vacation place, the other is a terrifying place that will murder me.

When I said that I am terrified of Slimecicle, I MEAN IT. As cc!Charlie has said in his last video: 

“A thousand century old glop trying to learn what means being human”

IT’S LIKE JUST A CONCEPT THAT JUST GIVES SO MUCH HORROR. Ghostbur was naive, it was, Slimecicle is naive in human things, he’s a SLIME, not a dead person with sense of humanity, he’s going to murder someone in the blink of an eye and I can feel it in my skin. 

Ghostbur was a person, he was a person, an adult, with memory lose, naive, BUT HE’S HUMAN. HE HAD HUMANITY. HE HAD A SOUL. He did some weird shit sometimes, but what was the worse he could cause? A salmon dead? A confused laugh? A weird look?

c!Charlie is a monster. AN ALIEN, IF YOU WISH, BUT NOT THE FRIENDLY HITMAN PURPLED.

A dog alone is a dog, with two is a different history. I KNOW IT BECAUSE I HAVE SEEN DOGS, really inoffensive dogs, BECOMING DEATH MACHINES WHEN THEY ARE TOGETHER. HUNTING LITTLE ANIMALS FOR FUN, CATS, EVEN OTHER DOGS, BECAUSE THERE ARE TWO OF THEM. And they don’t realize it’s wrong, because THEY ARE ANIMALS. 

Slimecicle is an animal. 

When he fails at being a human, and he will, and he decides that pretending to be a human isn’t worth it for whatever he wants, WE ARE DEAD. I know that maybe that won’t happen, because cc!Charlie is more a funny guy (he goes into some dark shit sometimes, but he always come back to the funny content), but that idea has been in the back of my head for days now. 

You know, that idea that maybe Ghostbur was evil? Because he said he liked red ONCE. Guess what, Slimecicle he’s an animal, AN ANIMAL DOESN'T HAVE CONTEXT OF WHAT IT’S EVIL OR GOOD, AND YOU KNOW WHAT ANIMALS DO, WHAT DECISION PROCESS THEY TAKE? SURVIVAL. HE’S TERRIFYING. When he realizes that he’s more powerful than the others, that he can whatever he wants, when he decides that playing “human” are not worth it. WE ARE GOING TO HAVE VORE IN THIS HOUSE, AND I’M NOT READY FOR THAT AGAIN. YOU THOUGHT TORTURE IS BAD? BE READY WHEN THIS BEAST STARTS EATING KIDS ALIVE. 

Every time that I saw him in the screen I’m anxious, I’m anxious for any character that makes contact with him. I was so worried about Tommy, for Purpled, for Connor, even Quackity. 

Quackity is controlling him for now, he gained a pretty good weapon, but if he loses control, I’m certain he will end up death or worse. 

ALSO, HE KNOWS SO MUCH. SO MUCH. Ghostbur, love him, WAS A FORGETFUL INNOCENT SOUL THAT WASN’T ABLE TO ACCEPT CHANGES, GHOSTBUR FORGET THINGS. CHARLIE DOESN'T. HE KNOWS SO FUCKING MUCH. 

You know how fucking scary is that a slime with human bones, that you NEVER had seen in your life, addresses by YOUR NAME AND ADDRESS. HE KNOWS WHERE YOU’RE FROM, WHERE YOU LIVE. 

HE KNOWS DREAM, HE KNOWS TOMMY, HE KNOWS WILBUR, HE KNOWS L’MANBERG, HE KNOWS THE WHOLE HISTORY, WITHOUT ANY BIAS, BECAUSE HE’S A MONSTER THAT HAS BEING WATCHING EVERY MOVE FROM THE DARK.   

He’s a slime. 

FEAR HIM. 

PURPLED IS IN THE RIGHT MIND TO BE HOSTILE WITH HIM, TO ASK WHY HE HAS BONES THAT AREN’T FROM HIM, FUNDY IS VALID TO BE SCARED OF HIM.  

IF HE HAS SEEN ALL THE HISTORY WITHOUT BEING SEEING, WHY IS CHOOSING TO BE SUCH BAD SPY NOW?

WHY NOW. What happened, what’s the reason for THIS THING TO WANT TO BE A HUMAN? WHY NOW? What is he planning? Why he chose to show himself to Quackity first? To be his best friend? WHY.

WHEN THEY REALIZE THAT HE IS NOT JUST A “SLIME BOY” IT WILL BE TOO LATE. 

“And then one day, history itself will fall by the wayside and give way to the inevitable“ Slimecicle

I’m so scared, AND I LOVE IT. 

Argh, I love you Charlie, the lore is so good, I swear. 

Maybe I am reading to much into it, but it’s my shit. 

#dsmp #dream smp #tw dead animal #tw death #tw vore #tw torture #tw swearing #tw ranting #meta #slimecicle #slimecicle dsmp #slimecicle dream smp #ghostbur #ghostbur dream smp #dsmp ghostbur #ghostbur dsmp #i am so afraid #its awesome

[sourwolf-sterek32]

Tragic Love

Summary: You were Alfie Solomons little sister and Tommy Shelby's ex girlfriend.

It had been three years since you last saw your ex. Until your brother sent you on a mission to kill Father Hughes and you came face to face with Thomas Shelby, causing old feelings to resurface again.

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 2.9k

Warnings: Language, past child abuse, violence

Previous Chapter

Chapter 9-

Michael left his men to clean up the mess with Father Hughes before the two of you grabbed Charlie and left the church. 

"I'll give you a lift to the Arrow House." Michael said, already opening the passenger side door of his car for you.

You nodded your thanks and climbed inside while he walked around and jumped into the drivers seat as you adjusted Charlie in your lap. The little boy babbling nonsense, completely oblivious to what just happened.

"Here." You said, pulling the small blanket off Charlie and handing it to Michael. "I think Polly would freak out if she saw all the blood on your face." 

Michael nodded in agreement taking the blanket and began wiping his face, getting rid of any of the evidence before he started the car and took off down the road.

It didn't take long before he pulled up in front of the Arrow House. Ada and Polly rushed out the front door hearing the car, utter relief washing over their faces when they saw Charlie in your arms as you got out the car.

You handed Charlie to Ada who had tears of relief in her eyes as she hugged her nephew tightly while Polly started questioning Michael about what happened. He didn't even try and deny killing Father Hughes which made his mother angry.

"Where's Tommy?" You asked, stopping Polly before she could start yelling at Michael.

"He was out by the tunnel. Getting the jewels ready to exchange for Charlie if we couldn't find him." Polly answered, glancing over at you. "Come inside, you looked wrecked. Tommy will be back in the morning."

You wanted to say no to her offer, but you were so exhausted. Your entire body ached in pain and you knew it was stupid to decline the offer. You needed to rest or at the very least, sit down.

"Okay." You nodded, following the family into the house.

You ended up crashing on the couch in Tommy's office. You didn't mean to fall asleep, but you must have because the next thing you knew you were being woken up by someone shaking your shoulders.

"Miss Solomons?" Marys voice said, causing your eyes to snap open as you jumped to your feet, reaching for your gun before you spotted Tommy's house keeper standing in front of you. "Sorry to wake you, but Mr Shelby is home. He wants to talk to you."

Well, that probably wasn't a good thing that he sent his house keeper to get you instead of him coming in here himself.

"Thanks Mary. Where is he?" You asked, rubbing your tired eyes.

"In Charlies room." She answered before walking out the office.

You sat there for a few minutes, trying to build up the courage to talk to him, unsure of how it was going to pan out. Would he be happy to see you? Or would he still be pissed about the whole mess with Alfie earlier?

Well, there was no point sitting here thinking about it.

With that, you got up off the couch and walked out the office, making your way upstairs towards Charlies bedroom.

The door to the boys bedroom was opened as you walked down the corridor, stopping in the doorway to find Tommy standing above his sons crib, looking down at Charlie who was no doubt asleep.

Tommy wasn't in his usual outfit. His jacket and suit replaced by a tank top, his bare skin caked with mud and dirt and you realised that he must have only just gotten back from digging the tunnel with the guys.

"Hey." You whispered, not wanting to wake Charlie if he was asleep.

"You knew."

That was all Tommy said, his back facing you.

"Knew what?" You asked cautiously, not liking the tone of his voice.

"Where my son was. Michael said you bet him there." He explained, still refusing to turn around and face you.

"So?"

"So, you fucking knew. You knew everything and-" He began to shout, turning to face you for the fist time.

His eyes were bluer than ever. Standing out amongst the dirt and mud smeared over his face, but his angry expression was what caught your attention.

"Choose your next words carefully." You warned, cutting him off.

Tommy paused for a moment, his posture tense as he stared at you before he finally asked.

"Did you know about my son?"

You just shook your head in disbelief. "I can't believe you're asking me that again."

"Did you?" He pushed, wanting an answer.

"No!"

"Then how did you know where to find Charlie? Eh? How did you fucking know?!" He questioned, anger rising in his voice and it was clear that he didn't believe a word of what you said.

"Just drop it, Tommy." You said, glaring at him.

You didn't want to even think about it let alone say it outload. He knew how you were treated as an Orphan, he knew it was Father Hughes who did most of it, you didn't want to say it out loud.

"How did you fucking know?!" He shouted, causing Charlie to suddenly start crying from the crib behind him, but he ignored it. "I swear to God, Y/N, if you don't answer the question-"

"Because it was the same fucking church that he used to abuse me in as a child!" You shouted back, folding your arms across your chest. "You happy now?"

For the first time, Tommy seemed speechless as he stared at you. Charlie still crying loudly behind him, but his attention was purely focused on you.

"I can't do this. With you." He responded, gesturing towards you. "I can't trust your brother and I can't trust you."

You opened your mouth to responded, but no words came out. Tommy didn't trust you anymore?

"I had no idea what my brother planned. I didn't know he had betrayed, I wasn't part of it." You quickly explained and Tommy nodded, but clearly it wasn't enough.

"Maybe so, but I can't trust you. My son nearly died and I... fuck, I can't do this with you Y/N, not anymore." He sighed, rubbing his face with his hands. "You had your gun pointed at me."

"Of course I did! You had your gun pointed at my fucking brother!" You snapped, crossing your arms over your chest.

"That's the point." He said, but your frowned in confusion. "That's the fucking point, Y/N. You'll always choose Alfie. You didn't even hesitate to take his side earlier, you were ready to kill me for him and look, I get it. I have three brothers, alright. I understand that better than anyone. But, that's the fucking point. You'll always choose your brother and I can't trust you because of that."

You stared at Tommy, speechless.

"Seriously? You have the fucking audacity to talk to me about trust, after you cheated on me with Grace?" 

"That's different." 

"Wow." You chuckle, shaking your head in disbelief.

"You can leave now." He finally said, turning and picking up his crying son.

You just stared at Tommy in disbelief. Was he really going to let you just walk? Again? After everything the two of you had been through, he was just going to let you walk away like nothing had happened during the last few months? Like none of that fucking mattered to him?

"Do you want me to leave?"

Tommy didn't say anything for a moment before he sighed and nodded, his back still facing you.

You didn't waste your energy in replying. Instead, you just turned around and walked out the house. 

-

The taxi drive back to London cost a lot more than you would have liked, but you were not asking any of Tommy's family to drive you back home and you didn't exactly want to use their phone to call your brother.

You were still pissed at him too.

The second you stepped out the taxi, that's when the tears started. You had been holding them back since Tommy's house and now that you were in the safety of your home, you broke down as you walked through the front door.

You made your way straight to your bedroom, hoping that Alfie was downstairs in the rum distillery and not in the house, but of course you weren't that lucky.

"Y/N, that you?" His voice called out from somewhere in the house.

Maybe if you didn't reply he would leave you alone?

Nope that didn't work either because just as you closed the door to your bedroom, Alfie was knocking on it.

"You giving me the fucking silent treatment for something, sis?" Your brothers voice questioned from behind the door.

You stared at the door through teary eyes, but you couldn't bring yourself to say anything. You weren't even sure you could string a couple words together right now as tears fell down your face.

Tommy broke up with you... again.

God, how could you be so stupid to think that two of you could've worked things out and lived happily ever after? Of course that was never going to happen and deep down you knew that.

But, that didn't make it hurt any less.

"Alright, you're probably pissed at me for betraying your boy, but at least tell me if you're okay and that priest is dead?" 

That was all it took for your sadness to turn into anger real quick.

Before you knew what you were doing, you were slamming your bedroom door open, coming face to face with a surprised looking Alfie. But, his expression dropped when he saw the tears in your eyes.

"Why the fuck did you betray, Tommy?!" You shouted, pushing your brother in the chest causing him to stagger back a few steps. "Tommy thought I was in on it! He thought I fucking betrayed him because of you!"

"It's just business, kid. Ain't reason to get your nickers in a twist, yeah?" He responded, but that was the wrong fucking thing to say.

All you saw was red as you charged at your brother. You pushed him into the wall, his back slamming into it hard as he grunted in pain before you started hitting his chest.

"Fucking hell, Y/N. Stop. Just stop. I'm sorry, I'm sorry." He said, grabbing your arms, stopping you from hitting him as angry tears fell down your cheeks. "Look at me. Sis, look at me."

Reluctantly, you lifted your head, your teary eyes locking with his as you breathed deeply trying to calm down.

"I am sorry. But, you and Tommy will figure it out. You seem to always find your way back to each other."

"Not this time." You whispered, shaking your head. The anger draining from your body as sadness washed over you. "He broke up with me... because of you. Because I'll always choose you over him and he couldn't trust me because of it."

The anger you had been feeling moments ago seemed to have jumped into your brother, his expression hardening as he took in what you just said.

"He broke up with you because of me?" He questioned and you nodded causing your brothers hands to form fists by his side. "M'gonna fucking kill him."

"Why? Because he can't trust the sister of the man who betrayed him? Who caused his son to get abducted?!" You shouted, taking a step away from your brother. "I might be pissed at Tommy right now, but I get why he did it."

"I didn't think they were gonna take his fucking kid!"

"That's your problem, Alfie. You never fucking think! You never think about the consequences of-" You stopped mid sentence when a sharp pain came from your stomach.

You winced, grabbing your stomach, waiting for the pain to go away, but it didn't. It just got worse.

"You okay?" Your brother asked warily, his eyes turning from angry to worried in less than a second.

"Yeah. I'm- fuck." You hissed, lifting your shirt imagining a knife digging into your stomach, but there was nothing but a few shoe shaped bruises from Father Hughes.

"He break a couple ribs or something?" Alfie questioned, looking at the bruises.

No. You've broken your ribs before, but it never felt like this. The pain wasn't even where your ribs where, the pain was lower.

"I don't know..." You trailed off unsure of what was happening as the pain skyrocketed.

You stumbled back a step, holding onto the doorframe for support as you grabbed your stomach with your free hand.

"S-somethings not right." You gasped, pain and panic started to take over. "Alfie, somethings wrong."

Alfie grabbed your shoulders just as your legs buckled from underneath you, the pain too immense as your brother held you up, his terrified eyes looking at you helplessly before he stared at something between your legs.

"Shit, kid, you're bleeding."

You looked down to find that you were in fact bleeding, bright crimson blood staining your grey suit pants between your thighs.

Your first thought was that it was your period. But, your periods had never felt like this before. Never like this. Something was horribly wrong and your brother clearly realized that too.

"I'm taking ya to the hospital-" Alfie began to say before someone else cut him off.

"Oh dear, what happened?" Anna –Alfie's housekeeper- suddenly said, rushing down the hallway towards you.

"Something-something's wrong." You hissed in pain, holding your stomach while your brother practically held you up, stopping you from collapsing to the floor.

The old lady frowned in confusion, stepping towards you like she could figure out the cause of this just by looking at you.

"Have you been feeling tired lately? Nauseous sometimes? In the mornings?" She asked and you nodded causing Anna to look at you sympathetically. "When was your last period?"

"I don't... I don't know." You stuttered, trying to wrack your brain for when it was, but all you could focus on was the never ending pain that felt like someone was stabbing you.

"What the hell does any of that have to do with this? I need to get her to the fucking hospital." Your brother responded, already starting to guide you down the corridor.

"I'm afraid that isn't going to help." Anna said quietly.

Your brother suddenly stopped walking before he spun around, still holding your shoulders as he glared at his housekeeper.

"The fuck is that meant to mean? Eh?"

"I believe your sister is having a miscarriage."

Your eyes widened, "what? I-I'm pregnant?"

Anna looked at you sadly, "I'm afraid not for long."

"Nah, fuck that. I'm taking ya to the hospital and you're gonna be fine, yeah? You're gonna be fine." Alfie insisted, ignoring his housekeeper as he slowly guided out the front door and into his car.

Before you knew it, you were pulling up to the hospital. The entire drive had been a blur to you. You had stopped paying attention to everything after those words left Annas mouth. The only things you could concentrate on was the pain and the fact that you were apparently pregnant, but losing the baby. How was the even possible?

The doctors and nurses did some tests and tried to ask you questions, but you were still in shock. You couldn't say anything even if you wanted to, too freaked out and in too much pain to even process the questions.

Alfie did his best to answer any questions they had, but after nearly an hour the doctor eventually returned and confirmed that Anna had been correct. You were having a miscarriage and that there was nothing they could do to stop it.

"Do you understand what we just told you, Miss Solomons?" The doctor asked, standing in front of you as you sat in the hospital room, your brother sitting beside you, holding your hand tightly. "Miss Solomons?"

You could barely hear what the doctor was saying above your heart beating loudly in your ears. The pain had died down after they gave you some painkillers, but you still couldn't think straight.

"Miss Solomons? I understand that this might be a bit of a shock for you, but the baby barely would've had a heartbeat this early, it's not like it was fully developed. It doesn't matter-" The doctor continued to say before your brother cut him off.

"The fuck did you just, mate?!" He questioned, abruptly standing up from the chair as he glared at the doctor in front of you.

"All I'm saying is that it would've been worse if she was further along in the pregnancy. It's not that big of a loss."

If you were in the right headspace, you would've punched that doctor by now. But, your entire body just felt numb, you didn't have the energy, but your brother clearly did.

"Listen here you fucking piece of shit." Alfie growled, grabbing the doctor by the front of his lab coat.

You were vaguely aware of the security guards by the front counter starting to walk towards you guys as you glanced up at your brother, who now had the doctor pinned to the wall.

"Alfie." You quickly said, snapping yourself back to reality, your voice coming out so small, you barely even heard it.

Your brother must have though because he quickly glanced over his shoulder at you, his rage and anger subsiding as he stared at you.

"Take me home." You whispered, hating the fact that you could feel tears starting to fill your eyes. "Take me home, please."

"Yeah, lets get the fuck outta this place." Your brother responded, shoving the doctor harder against the wall before letting go and walking over to you.

He grabbed your hand, guiding you to your feet before the two of you walked out the hospital.

You laid down in the back seat of the car while your brother climbed into the drivers seat and started the car.

You could feel him looking at you through the revision mirror as you curled up into a ball on the backseat, silent tears falling down at your cheeks as Alfie drove.

"You okay?" He asked after a few minutes of silence.

Your first response was to lie. But, you knew there was no point, he already knew the answer anyway.

"Not really." You sniffed, your voice barely above a whisper as you met your brothers gaze through the revision mirror, his own eyes filled with unshed tears as he stared at you which only made you cry even more.

-

MASTERLIST    |    TIP JAR

Next Chapter

[thepeakygirl]

To Bite A Bully Back II - Ruby Shelby

Masterlist

{Part One} {Part Three}

Summary - After her bullies let slip a big secret, Ruby unwilling to believe it soon confesses to Charlie what she heard. Telling her to keep quiet Charlie hopes she will let it go but after pressure from her parents, Ruby let’s the words come tumbling from her mouth leaving both Lizzie and Tommy startled. Pairing - TommyxLizzie

Warning - Bullying, Violence, Past Sexual Assault

Word Count - 4501

Family Dinner

"You're a liar!" Ruby's blood was boiling and bubbling beneath the surface of her skin, ripping along her flesh painfully causing her anger to grow and grow as she growled at the boys circling her. She was a wild battered animal readying herself to bite back, her teeth screaming for flesh. Ruby could handle being picked on but when it came to her family she was not so easily ready to let words slide.

"She's a whore!" Henry's teeth were now on show, he was ready to bite back just as hard and Ruby through her haze of anger knew she would still have to be careful.

"Me Mum is a respectable lady you'd do well to keep your fucking mouth shut!"

She was shaking. Her teeth snapped against her tongue, filling her mouth with the taste of blood. Even now it seemed she was the one hurting the most.

"Ask me Dad, he used to be one of her best customers, said she was good with her mouth. That was until your Dad came along and whisked her away play the part of a fookin' secretary. You can put nice clothes on a whore but in the end it's still a whore"

It was Henry's smirk as he spat his poison that Ruby hated most. It was a smirk that told her he knew more than her, that she was less because of it. Ruby's life had been sheltered for the most part but she wasn't stupid, she knew who her family were, she knew what they did and why they did it. She'd heard her Dad say countless time that there weren't to be any more sport for Shelby's only to sneak into the house in the middle of the night with blood on his hands and a satisfied glint in his eyes. Ruby had seen the blood that decorated the blades in his cap as he washed them clean, she'd even seen her Mum helping him clean before shutting the bedroom door, leaving the kids on the other side with a firm warning to get to bed.

Sport never ended for Thomas Shelby, Ruby didn't believe he could ever give it up.

"Well it's no wonder you've turned out the way you have with a Dad like that" Ruby laughed coldly in disgust, picturing a man with the same revolting little smirk as Henry. She imagined he was the very image of his Father and Ruby pitied the woman who'd be unfortunate enough to call them husband and son.

"What's that supposed to mean rat?!" Daddy's boy hissed like a little grass snake, already offended by Ruby's words. His family appeared to be off limits but if he could talk about hers than she could certainly return the favour.

"It means your Dad isn't the only pig in the family" Ruby smirked and feeling a burst of confidence run through her she lifted her arms and shoved Henry as hard as she could, finding humour in the way he hit the ground "Is he Piggy?!"

"You'll regret that Shelby!"

His words drained the confidence from her body, replacing it with fear once again and not wanting to stick around to be punished, Ruby pulled her bag up off the floor and ran. She didn't stop running until she was inside the car that took both her and Charlie back home.

"Everything alright Miss Shelby?" The driver asked taking in her dishevelled appearance as she tried to get her breath back.

"Yeah....I'm...f..fine" Ruby wheezed glancing at Charlie quickly who was now staring at her in question. She gave him a look that told him to wait, she would discuss things with him when they got home.

"Family meeting!" Ruby announced taking Charlie by the shoulder and pulling him away from the main doors. They couldn't go inside just yet, not when there were eyes and ears around every corner.

"Where are we going Rubes?" Charlie questioned trying to keep up with her fast pace as she dragged him around the side of the house, ducking under the windows to keep themselves from being seen.

"The stables Charlie it's the only place no one listens" Ruby answered never letting go of Charlie once, her grip on his shoulder becoming tighter and tighter the closer they got. She was praying neither their Mum or Dad came out and tried to see what was going on. This family meeting was just for her and Charlie, no one else, especially when the topic of it was sensitive.

Peeking over her shoulder, Ruby scanned the area around them before pulling Charlie into an empty stall. Standing upon one of the hay bales she began to pace, wondering how she could possibly bring up this matter with Charlie.

"Are you going to tell me what's going on?" Charlie wondered sitting himself down and watching Ruby pace nervously, growing more and more frustrated the longer she did so "C'mon Ruby m'starving! Mum will come looking for us soon"

"This is about Mum Charlie but I don't know how to say it!" Ruby hissed pausing in her step and staring over at the house expecting to see her Mum's dark bouncy curls approaching them, the sound of her expensive heels clicking against the pavement but there was nothing.

"Just open your mouth and say it Ruby, if it's about Mum I should know"

She didn't expect Charlie to have the answers but she couldn't keep this to herself, she needed to tell someone.

"Henry Stewart told me that Mum used to be a prostitute before working for Dad, told me you can put nice clothes on a whore but it's still a whore" Ruby finally got it watching Charlie scrambling to pick his jaw off the floor, his eyes wide and furious. He was just as angry as Ruby had been earlier. She was still angry, she wanted to throttle Henry until all the air was gone from his lungs.

"Henry Stewart is a dog, don't tell me you believed him Ruby!" Charlie exclaimed now pacing the stall like Ruby had done moments earlier.

"Of course I didn't! He even tried to say that his Dad was one of her best costumers" Ruby scoffed in disbelief "He's sick!"

"There are always going to be people who speak badly about us Ruby because of who we are, because of our name. Being a Shelby automatically puts a target on our backs. If you ignore what they say they'll soon grow bored and leave you alone. Don't stoop down to their games, keep your head up Rubes" Charlie tried to encourage her making Ruby want to scream. She'd tried ignoring them over and over but they never went away in fact it only made things worse to ignore them. Keeping her scream in the back of her throat, Ruby placed a tight smile on her face and nodded, jumping down from the hay bale as she did so, bringing the family meeting to an end.

"Good girl Rubes, now can we go inside and eat?"

The table was silent.

All that could be heard was the sound of cutlery and her Dad flipping the paper in his hand avoiding the plate of food in front of him. Ruby felt nervous, her palms slipping down the edge of her knife and fork as she found herself constantly peering over the table at her Mum. Her Mum didn't look like a prostitute but Ruby came to the realisation that she had no idea what a prostitute was meant to look like. She also couldn't imagine her Mum with any other man but her Dad. Ruby of course knew that people led different lives before truly becoming who they were, her Dad had been a simple bookmaker from Small Heath turned MP. Not much was ever said about her Mum's blood family, the topic was unheard of in this house, she'd always at heart been a part of the Shelby family even before marriage but it made Ruby wonder just who she was before then.

What life had her Mum lived?

Had she been abandoned by her family?

Had they died?

A frown found it's way onto Ruby's face. She didn't understand how she could know her parents and yet know nothing about them at all.

"Is there somethin' wrong Rubes?" Her Mum's voice softly called out, pulling Ruby from her thoughts and turning her cheeks bright red. She'd been caught staring into her Mother's soul, burning holes through the poor woman until she could no longer cope with it.  

"No Mum..l….m'fine" Ruby replied, her words hesitant as she replaced her frown with a small smile, turning her attention back to the food on her plate. She heard her Dad pause behind the paper but it never came down instead he waited, now listening intently to his family.

"Are you sure? You haven't stopped frowning at me since we sat down to eat, so tell me what's wrong?" Her tone was kind yet she expected answers.

Feeling panic seeping up into her throat Ruby flickered her eyes over to Charlie who stared back in warning, telling Ruby to keep her mouth shut and not turn dinner into chaos.

"Yeah I'm sure, nothing's wrong" Ruby squeaked unconvincingly watching Charlie beginning to shake his head, a look of horror on his face knowing his sister would slip up if there were anymore questions.

'Don't!' He mouthed dropping his knife and fork on the table and freezing in place, only his eyes moving between his parents and sister. If his Dad hadn't been here, Charlie was certain he would of dropped to his knees and begged Ruby not to speak.

"Lying are we now Ruby?"

"No Mum...I....I...just....it's nothing" Ruby fumbled over her words, a wave of nausea washing over her kicking the very appetite from her.

"Ruby" Came a deep warning voice from behind the paper resting upon the table. The God of the house had spoken and spoken clearly sending the warning through Ruby like a strike of lightning and swallowing the painful lump in her throat she found herself defeated.

"Aboyfromschoolsaidyouusedtoworkasaprostitute"

"Ruby slower" Her Mum laughed making Ruby want to weep, she wouldn't be laughing when she knew what Ruby said.

"A boy from school said you used to work as a prostitute"

The paper slammed down on the table sending Ruby further into her chair, her knuckles turning white as she gripped her knife and fork tightly. A choking sound left the back of her Mum's throat and Ruby waited to feel to familiar stinging sensation of her Dad's palm connecting with the side of her head yet no one moved. Instead they all stared at Ruby in disbelief making her feel as small as the rat Henry considered her to be.

"I didn't believe him though" Ruby added with a whimper finally lifting her head to see her Mum's sad tortured face.

Ruby's eyes filled with tears, she'd hurt her Mum with her words and wanted nothing more than to turn the clock back and make everyone forget she'd ever said anything.

"Excuse me for a moment"

Getting up from her chair, her Mum threw down her napkin and began to leave the room, her steps wide and fast. She couldn't get away from them quick enough.

"Mum!" Ruby pleaded, her heart beating wildly in her chest. She wanted to run into her arms and beg for forgiveness.

"Leave her Ruby" Her Dad sighed also getting up from his chair and glancing between both of his kids he pointed in their directions and shook his head "No one move until I get back"

And then he was gone, following their Mum out the dining room leaving a distraught Ruby and a disbelieving Charlie.

"Nice going Ruby!" Charlie snapped putting his head into his hands with a growl of frustration. Why couldn't she of just stayed quiet for once?

"I didn't mean to hurt her Charlie"

Ruby was crying now, soft tears rolled down her pale cheeks and dropping her cutlery she brought her legs up into the chair and rested her cheek against them, her eyes never moving from the main doors as she continued to weep.

"It was nice knowing you Rubes, Dad is sure to kill you after this one"

If it made it up to her Mum then Ruby had no objections.

"I'll let him"

Tommy had found Lizzie in their room, biting down on her nails nervously, her hair now ruffled and wild from her constantly running her fingers through it. She always did this when she was nervous or worried. Often there had been times where her fingers began to bleed due to her latching onto her skin with her teeth. Nervous nibbles he called them, the words always seeming to pull a chuckle from her in the worst of times. Hearing him shut the door, Lizzie looked up at him and let out the air she'd been holding in.

"Did I startle the kids?" She asked remembering Ruby's little voice calling out of her as she fled from the room. She'd wanted to reassure the children but found herself too lost for words. What words were there to possibly say? No parent was ready to be caught so incredibly off guard.

"They'll be fine, they're just worried" Tommy answered coming to sit next to her and reaching up he pulled her hand away from her mouth and brought it into his lap, intwining their fingers tightly.

"What do I tell them Tommy? Do I tell them the truth or do I put it down to schoolchildren bein' silly? We always tell the kids to be truthful...but this.....I never expected this to come up again" Lizzie mumbled finding herself deeply confused. She hadn't expected her past to come back and haunt her in the form of her own child.

She wondered what type of child would even discuss something like this with another child. Ruby was only twelve and Lizzie's life as a prostitute was not for her ears.

"Whatever you decide you have my support Lizzie but we can't keep the kids waiting too long, it will only raise their suspicion"

In truth Tommy didn't think it fair that Lizzie's past be seen as worse than his own. He'd done so much in his life that prostitution did not come close in comparison yet it was always Lizzie people casted their judgment upon. Perhaps it was because it was easier to hurt her than it was to hurt him.

"What if they hate me Tom?" Lizzie whispered mournfully not wanting to see the disappointed looks upon her children's faces knowing their Mother used to fuck men for money.

“We have the best kids Lizzie and they could never hate you” Tommy smiled and taking her face within his hands he placed a long kiss on her head “That I can promise”

“You’ve made a lot of promises to me in the past Tommy” Lizzie humoured sinking into him, his touch already giving her the comfort she’d been craving. Tommy always had a way with words and actions, maybe it’s why she’d forgiven him so many times before. He had a way of making someone feel special until he decided they weren’t. Lizzie once felt she was nothing but a warm body to him but things had changed in the last few years, love had blossomed and while they still had their moments of displeasure, Lizzie now felt as if she were special to him everyday.

Tommy belonged to her and belonged to those kids downstairs, they had his heart. A part of it would always belong to Grace but it wasn’t enough to pull him from her anymore. Lizzie felt like she had a reason to stay and that reason was not only his love but Charles and Ruby’s too. This was her family, the thing she’d always wanted and now that it was hers Lizzie could never let go.

“Yeah but this one I can keep” Tommy winked as he pulled back and tucked a loose black curl behind her ear.  She loved it when he was gentle with her, treating her like a fragile flower, caressing her petals softly in order not to harm them. He’d been the first man to do so, those before him had been rough and uncaring, treating her like a tool in a workshop being passed about until it broke.

“Go get the kids Tom, I’ll speak to them here” Lizzie smiled softly already mentally preparing her speech as she readjusted her hair and dress. She wouldn’t go into detail, there was no need to but she would tell the truth and accept whatever troubles it came with.

The children walked into the room like two misbehaved puppies, cowering at the sight of the Mother, their Dad standing firmly behind them blocking the escape.

“Mum I’m sorry” Ruby spoke first, her tears tearing at Lizzie’s heart, her hand wrapped tightly around Charlie’s for comfort. She was shaking like a leaf and Lizzie was positive she’d never seen the child more terrified in her whole twelve years of life. Lizzie just hoped Ruby would let her hold her once she knew everything.

“It’s alright Ruby, come sit down both of you” Lizzie ordered gently holding both her hands out encouragingly and walking further into the room the kids cautiously took their Mother’s hand in theirs and sat beside her. Ruby looked over at her Dad who was now stood by the door with a lit cigarette, his face a picture of calmness yet his eyes didn’t betray any of his feelings. For all Ruby knew he could of secretly been furious.

“Are you alright Mum?” Charlie asked giving her hand a squeeze, a concerned frown upon his face.

“Yes I’m alright darling but I do ‘ave something to tell you both” Lizzie began, her eyes flickering over at Tommy who nodded, blowing smoke into the air as he did so. Turning her attention back to the children she tried not to cry “Ruby, what that boy said to you today is true. I did used to work as a prostitute, a very long time ago. You see I lost my family when I was younger and was thrown onto the streets with nothing but the clothes on my back and the shoes on my feet. I was too young for work, too scruffy for work and those I begged for money would pass me by without a second glance. No one wanted to take on an orphaned child. It didn’t take long for me to grow hungry, I was so desperate for food that when I finally offered that type of work I didn’t hesitate to say yes. It was a very dark time in my life, a time I’ve tried to forget until today. I’m not ashamed of my past, I did what I did in order to survive but it’s not somethin’ that I like to speak about”

The room was silent for a moment allowing Lizzie the time to let a tear fall, fearing the worst was yet to come. A sob left her throat as Charlie pulled back and let go of her hand only to stand up and pull her into his arms. Resting her head against his stomach, Lizzie cried and held onto him for dear life hoping he would never pull away.

“I’m sorry you had to go through that Mum” Charlie whispered tightening his hold on her and staring at Ruby who was doing her best not to cry again. Placing her head on her Mum’s shoulder, Ruby continued to hold her hand.

“Please don’t cry Mum, we love you”

“You don’t hate me?” Lizzie dared to ask and shaking her head, Ruby took her face within her hands just as Tommy had and smiled at her.

“Mum we don’t care that you used to be a prostitute, we’re just sorry you had to live like that. You fought to survive and that makes you the bravest woman we know and there’s nothin’ you could ever do to make us hate you” Ruby reassured her before placing a long kiss on her Mum’s cheek.

Wrapping her arms around both children, Lizzie let out a long sigh of relief.

“You children are my very heart and I love you more than anything”

“Ey?!” Tommy barked mockingly seeming to take offence to her words and placing a scowl on his face.

“Sorry Dad you know Mum loves us more than you” Charlie shrugged sitting back down on the bed and resting his back against the headboard, falling into a state of relaxation now he knew the house wasn’t going to erupt with fights.

“Yeah! Hate to be you Dad” Ruby cheekily stuck her tongue out his way and as Tommy stood there he realised as man of the house he had no authority when it came to the three of them and he wouldn’t of had it any other way. Being outvoted wasn’t all that bad in end.

The children stayed with their parents in the bedroom until their Dad finally called it a night and told them to go off to bed. Giving their Mum a quick hug and kiss they both left, Charlie feeling relieved and Ruby dreading the day to come.

“Ruby? Come ‘ere” Tommy called out down the hall stopping his daughter in her tracks and turning around she walked back towards the room with a questioning look.

“Yeah Dad?” She asked wondering why he’d called her back without Charlie.

Was this the part where she got in trouble? Was he going to bollock her for today’s mishap?

“The boy at school, what’s his name?” Her Dad demanded keeping his voice low whilst glancing over his shoulder to make sure her Mum wasn’t listening in on their conversation.

“Henry Stewart” Ruby answered truthfully, a hint of fear running through her eyes before she masked it but it was too late, he’d seen it.

“Did he say anythin’ else today?”

His eyebrow was raised as more questions slipped from his lips. Ruby found herself not wanting to answer, she still didn’t want him to find out she was being picked on and if she continued to talk she would spill everything just as she always did.

“He just said that his Dad used to be one of Mum’s clients, said she was good on her knees. Henry’s just a rotten little boy who likes to say silly thing, I now see where he gets it from havin’ a Dad like that” Ruby chucked bitterly hoping she never had the displeasure of meeting Henry’s Dad.

“Thank you Ruby that’ll be all. Goodnight”

Turning away abruptly, her Dad left her standing in the hall more confused than she’d been when he first called her over.

“Goodnight!” She chirped waiting until her parents bedroom door shut before making her way to her own bedroom. Ruby knew she wouldn’t sleep tonight not when she knew Henry would be waiting for her in the school yard.

“You ever ‘ave an old client who thought you were exceptionally well on your knees?”

“What the fuck Tommy?!” Lizzie exclaimed sitting up in bed with a startled gasp. She’d only just pulled the blanket under her chin and closed her eyes, the events of this evening making her tired. She didn’t have to reach for her book tonight, exhaustion had took her. Sleep was almost upon her when Tommy walked back into the bedroom and surprised her. After all this years of knowing him he still managed to do it almost daily.

What kind of question was that?!

He didn’t answer, instead he threw her an expectant look as he began to remove his suit eager to climb in the bed beside her and rest. He watched her closely waiting for the look of recognition to cross over her face. The wheels in her head turned and turned until her eyes filled with disgust and her rosey cheeks turned pale.

“Yes there was…..William Stewart. He began comin’ to me a few weeks before you offered me a job at the office. God! Just saying his name makes me skin crawl. He was a horrible man, used to force me to my knees and hold his cock in my mouth until I began to choke. He would laugh and spit on my face, slapping it over and over each time I begged him to go easy but he always payed extra, always. It didn’t last too long, he always came quickly but in the moments when he had me on me knees I remember feelin’ so disgusted, so violated and I prayed every time he left that he wouldn’t return” Lizzie confessed, her throat closing up, the memory of his face looking down at her causing her body to tremble.

“Why didn’t you tell me? I was still comin’ to you, you could of fuckin’ told me” Tommy glowered, tensing in anger as he stood at the end of the bed. Lizzie could almost see the steam coming out his nose and ears making him take on the form of a raging bull readying himself to strike.

“Tommy I was your whore, you didn’t come to me for conversation. If I remember correctly you didn’t fuckin’ say anythin’ to me except grunt like you’re doing now” Lizzie scoffed throwing the blankets from herself and crawling on towards the end of the bed, she knelt in front of him and stared up with a shake of her head.

Taking her chin within his fingers, Tommy held her head in place and exhaled sharply.

“You still could of told me love, I wouldn’t of let him come to you anymore. He would of been the one walkin’ around Small Heath on his knees” Bending down he placed a possessive kiss on her lips and growled “He still might be when I fuckin’ find him”

“Tommy let’s just leave the past in the past, it was years ago” Lizzie whispered placing her hands flat against his chest, watching his eyes flicker dangerously. He was ignoring her, she wasn’t blind.

“You know Lizzie I’ve learnt somethin’ interesting today” Tommy hummed, his stare growing darker and darker sending a cold chill up her spine.

“What’s that Tom” Lizzie swallowed hard, barely getting her words out. She wasn’t certain what she loved more, gentle Tom or furious Tom. It seemed both sides of him could have her squirming in her spot, seeking desperately to pull him into her.

“It seems our little Ruby is bein’ picked on at school but not to worry Lizzie I’m not about to let another one of me girls be tortured by a Stewart boy” He kissed her again, taking her bottom lip between his teeth and tugging gently, his eyes still lit with bad intentions “I think it’s time for a bit of sport for us Shelby’s don’t you?”

#peaky blinders #thomas shelby #tommy shelby #the peaky blinders #peaky blinder #bbc peaky blinders #peaky blinders fanfiction #peaky blinders fanfic #peaky blinders edit #lizzie stark #lizzie shelby #ruby shelby #charlie shelby #charles shelby #tommy x lizzie #thomas x lizzie

[lonely-lost-soul]

Slumber Party

Request 4: C!Ranboo and his best friend just having a calm like self-care sort of night? Like just some fluffy friendly content- maybe the reader playing with his hair? 🥺 I thrive on platonic content so so much

Requested By: Anonymous 

(PLATONIC!Ranboo x Reader) 

I felt like this one was better written in HeadCannon style hope that’s okay!

Marching through the Tundra the snow crunched under your feet, this was the first time you had made the journey out to visit Ranboo. 

You two had been inseparable since he came to the country of New L’manburg, Tubbo had introduced the both of you and you were attached at the hip ever since. You were one of the first names under the best friends category in his memory book and you had a locket with his face inside it labeled best friend. 

So it was only natural that he had made sure you were the first person who had direct permission from Technoblade to be on his property. 

The pigman had warmed up to you surprisingly quickly, mainly because you had brought him a housewarming gift.

(The gift in question was some of your world-famous homemade mashed potatoes)

He took it stiffly and gruffly, turning away from the both of you to walk back towards his house. 

Ranboo rushed to assure you that, that’s what he does when he appreciates something.

You chose to ignore the weird reaction in favor of following Ranboo to his home.

Ranboo’s pets remembered you and it was a joyful reunion between all of them. It ended in many snuggles and pets from both parties. 

Eventually, Ranboo suggested you both move away from the pets and do something more fun. Mainly he wanted to officially show off his new powers to you, keeping them a secret had been immensely challenging.

The both of you sat across from one another on the floor, in front of you he placed a grass block. 

“Ready?”

“Considering I don’t know what you’re doing sure.”

You almost screamed when he broke the grass and it was still...well grass. 

“Do it again! Can you do it to other blocks or just dirt? What else can you pick up?

He couldn’t help but preen at all the praise and you were happy to dish out the compliments. 

Ranboo explained how he went around with Techno to do some little experiments with what he could pick up. 

You could care less about the spawners but the cake was another story. You made him pick it up about five times, eyes sparkling about unlimited cake. 

Finally, to distract you away from the cake he asked how you were doing living with Tubbo in Snowchester.

“The nukes freak me out a little but other than that it’s peaceful. Tubbo and Jack’s shenanigans are super entertaining, I love living by Charlie! His puns make me laugh and he feels like he’s having a permanent mental breakdown. Which is again, very entertaining.” 

Ranboo gave a soft chuckle, “Yeah I mean understandable whenever I visit there’s certainly never a dull moment.”

The only thing that did worry you was how weird Jack Manifold was being around Tommy. There was just a weird vibe you couldn’t quite put your finger on and Ranboo frowned in distaste. He felt it too.

However, today was a good day. No sad or worrying thoughts and certainly no dwelling on business that wasn’t either of your own. 

Ranboo watched your brow crease in worry and immediately wanted to steer your thoughts away from any negativity. 

RANBOO SAYS THERE’S NO SADNESS ALLOWED IN HIS HOUSE UNLESS IT’S HIS OWN

“You wanna braid my hair?” He ended up blurting and watched you blink in surprise your sadness fading away and it was replaced with a look of confusion.

“Is...Is it long enough?” You tilted your head to the side, now officially eyeing his multicolored hair. 

“I don’t know...You wanna try?” 

“Yeah! Totally!” You chirped as he nodded, you both moved to shift into a more comfortable position. He sat in front of you, you could barely see over his shoulder to even reach his hair you had to sit up on your knees. 

“Hold it!” Ranboo paused turning to look over his shoulder, “put a pillow down.” He mama henned you, “you’re gonna bruise your knees.” 

You grabbed a pillow with an eye roll and put it beneath your knees as he instructed.

You gently put your crown off his head and placed it on your own, you began to run your fingers through his hair.

How was it so soft? It’s way softer than yours! That’s not fair! 

Ranboo felt you huff against him, and he smirked to himself but his face immediately melted into a relaxed expression as you ran your fingers through it. 

You began to softly braid the strands of hair, waiting curiously as the stray stands of white and black got intermixed with one another.

You ended up making two small pigtail braids and tying the ends with rubber bands to make them stay in place. You had placed his crown back on his head and smirked proudly. 

He turned to face you and your smirk turned into a proud grin, 

“How’s it looking?”

“You look amazing. I’m amazing, the talent I have is immense.” 

“I’ll be the judge of that.” He declared moving over to look in the mirror, he had to admit you didn’t do a terrible job at all.

He turned back to face you and declared it was your turn for him to play with your hair.

So the both of you switched positions, you sitting comfortably in between his legs as he brushed his fingers through your hair. 

In the end, Ranboo couldn’t figure out how to do anything other than put it in a small ponytail. 

You snickered at his misfortune but assured you loved the new hairstyle and decided you’d wear it for the remainder of the night. 

“You don’t have to.” Ranboo sighed shoulders slumping forward, “your hair will only get tangled-”

“Too late I’m wearing it all night and you can’t stop me.” 

“(Y/n) please.” 

“Never. It’s my new style now, permanent hair doo.” 

“Please no.”

An idea struck you suddenly declaring the both of you make the night a self-care experience

Ranboo had no idea what that meant but decided he’d follow your lead. 

You snickered, he had no idea what he was in for, you told him to give you five minutes and everything would make sense.

Unfortunately due to his Enderman traits, Ranboo would experience the warm water of a pedicure so you’d make due.

You came back arms full of the so-called self-care supplies you’d mentioned earlier.

The first thing you declared that you were going to paint his nails, you demanded he picks the colors he wanted and he hesitantly picked out a soft red color.

You painted his claws swiftly, he adored it immediately seeing the first nail completed. 

Once all of his nails were finished he held his hands out and wiggled his fingers, his eyes lighting up in childlike wonder.

“Let’s do more self-care. Right now!” 

You laughed happily and promised him there was more to come, and not to worry.

Eventually, the sun began to set over the hills and both of you were clad in a face mask, cucumbers sitting atop both your eyes.

You were sipping a strawberry smoothie, and Ranboo was sipping on peanut butter and banana. 

“Can we get Tubbo in on this next time? He seems like he needs it.” Ranboo asked suddenly a cucumber sliding off his eye to stare at you. You looked back at him with a hum,

“Absolutely. Maybe Tommy can come too.” 

“This is why you’re the smart friend.” He complimented, “Although we couldn’t have it here for reasons that look like a half pigman.” 

“That’s alright my house is big enough to fit everyone. Plus I have more self-care stuff there anyway.” You turned to face him this time popping off the cucumbers on your own eyes yourself, 

“I’ll tell Tubbo and you find Tommy?” Ranboo hummed, “Does next weekend work for you?”

“I do nothing like all the time so yes. It works.” 

“How do you stay away from everything, all the drama, and the fighting?”

“I only talk to like three people,” You let out a small laugh rubbing the back of your neck, “Can’t get into drama and wars when you’re barely noticed.” Ranboo frowned a little nudging you with his arm, 

“First of all, you are noticed. Whenever I gush about you everyone knows who I’m talking about,” He watched you flush a little at the inclination that he talks about you, “Second I will not have my friends talking bad about themselves or they’ll have to fight me.” You gave a little laugh and Ranboo held up his fists, “I’m gonna fight those negative thoughts.”

“My hero,” You cooed holding your hands to your chest and he smiled fondly at you. 

“Plus staying drama and war-free means you’re safe and that’s what’s important.”

“But I want you safe too.” 

“I… trust me.” He lied and you could tell there was something he wasn’t telling you but you knew Ranboo and it wasn’t good to press the boy, so for now...you let it go.

“You know I do, always will Boo.” You rest your head on his shoulder and he let you snuggle up close to him, he rested his chin on top of your hair. “Just don’t get hurt okay, I need you in my life.”

“I don’t plan on leaving you behind. Don’t worry.” Ranboo promised and watched as you held out your pinky towards him. 

“Pinky promise,” you whispered and he melted, 

“Promise.” He interlocked his long pinky finger with your own, from that moment on he knew he had made the right choice to join the Syndicate. He wanted to protect you, and being apart of the Syndicate would certainly allow him to do so, he had to fight to protect the ones he loved. Tubbo, Micheal, and you...he’d go against the world for them, even with his memory problems and his Enderwalking his only goal was to protect his friends, and that’s what he was going to do even if it killed him.

#requests #request #minecraft x reader #x reader #mcyt x reader #mcyt x you #mcyt #platonic #platonic ranboo x reader #platonic ranboo #friends x reader #friends #platonic x reader #platonic x you #dreamsmp x reader #dreamsmp x you #dreamsmp drabbles #dream smp #ranboo #c!ranboo

[ahndor]

fuck it. c!quackity headcanons

• he has vision problems (obviously). only one eye means poor depth perception. he rarely uses projectile weapons nowadays

• he cant see anything to his left without turning his whole body, so he doesnt like anybody standing on that side. wilbur can tell, and will purposefully move to q’s left when he wants to piss him off

• tubbo gave him an eyepatch after the butcher army incident, but q refuses to wear it. something something “keeping my pride, tubbo”

• he still wears his engagement rings, though not on his left hand like he used to. he keeps them on a long chain around his neck, not visible under his shirt. he fiddles with them when he gets nervous

• has small yellow duck wings, but keeps them tucked close to his back more often than not. the only people who used to see them regularly were karl and sapnap

• he knows las nevadas is dry, and that charlie needs a certain amount of moisture to survive. he wont tell anyone, but he keeps a bucket of water on him at all times. just in case

• hes not secretly hoping his fiancees will remember him and come visit. his bed isnt large enough to fit three people, not at all. he resents that sam would imply such an (obviously true) thing

• while he doesnt smoke, he keeps a lighter on him pretty much all the time. old habits die hard

• he keeps a journal (“its not a diary, sam, fuck off”) and will write down seemingly random things. sometimes just lists of cool things he saw throughout the day

• he likes flowers. oxeye daisies are his favorite

• has nightmares. nightmares of goats eyes, and pickaxes, and tnt, and pitch blackness. he doesnt think he’ll ever get used to waking up from them all alone

• definitely a cat person. he doesnt have any cats of his own, but he also wouldnt shoo one away if it happened to wander into las nevadas

• fidgets with things when he’s bored. whether it be with his rings, his lighter, a poker chip he perpetually keeps in his pocket, or some random writing utensil he finds lying around, his hands are almost always busy

• writes letters to people, but never sends them. he has a few for george, a few for tommy, several for tubbo, one for bad, and probably too many for karl and sapnap

• visited puffy’s place after the red banquet, but found it empty. he left a poppy at her doorstep, and hoped she could forgive him for arriving just a second too late

• has an absolutely banger collection of clothes, cause running a casino means you get kinda rich. who else on that godforsaken server can say they have more than two shirts. who

• he DEFINITELY can pickpocket, and can do it well

• 100% fucks with sam all the time just cause he can. he’ll take things from sam’s pocket, move things on his desk just slightly to the left, close doors purposefully when he knows sam’s about to walk through. it makes him laugh just as hard no matter how many times he does it

• suprisingly he only lost his canine tooth after his fight with techno. he replaced it with a gold one cause he thought it would look cool

#this got way too long way too fast lol #i just. love him so much #quackity dsmp #dream smp

[zodiyack]

Under Stars

Requested by anon: Hi, my love! I have a request where Y/N take the bullets instead of John. Like, she put herself in front of him allowing him to kill those men. She sees herself alone, since Thomas is married, Arthur has Linda and everyone is kinda moving on with their lives. After discussions (which makes her fell alone and useless) , Y/N sacrifices herself for John and his happinness, saying before she dies something like "I want you all to be happy". Sorry if u already made something like that + (Addition to their request)

Pairing: Shelby Family & Gray Family + Shelby!reader (no romance)

Warnings: Death, angst, murder, mention of depression, sad soft stuffs

Note: TITLE IS INSPIRED BY AURORA’S “UNDER STARS” FOR THE MEANING OF THE SONG WHICH CAN BE FOUND HERE  K BYE I’M SORRY! Also; extra bit at the end, I added it cause the title, I hope it’s okie! I cried while writing this oml

Taglist: @matth1w​ @redspaceace​

masterlist | Peaky Blinders Masterlist

“Got nothin’ better to do on Christmas morning?” John put down his gun when he realized it was only Michael.

“Tommy wants everybody at Charlie’s yard now, come on.” Michael gave a slight tilt of his head. Y/n creeped out next to John, hair messed up from her nieces’ and nephews’ game of climbing on their aunt human-sized-jungle gym the previous night. They sure were excited hear that their aunt would be staying for Christmas.

He turned, pushing his dog into the house and trying to close the door so they could get going. “Get in. Get in!” They walked around, “What’s going to happen? It’s fucking Christmas.”

“Look John, we don’t have time for this.”

“Alright, just come into the house.” Michael interrupted him, “Just come to the meeting-” but he continued like Michael never even spoke. “Have some food”

Esme rushed to the door, pushing John aside when he opened it, despite his “ey”s, and stomped over to Michael. She got extremely close to his face and angerly spat out her take on the situation, “Tell Tommy Shelby we can look after ourselves!”

However, Michael remained calm. “Tommy says they could come for us today, Esme-”

“’Tommy says’,” she turned to John and Y/n, repeating her mimic, “‘Tommy says’,” turning back to Michael, she released the same anger, “Are you his fucking parrot?!”

“Look, it’s the mafia! Alright? This is the New York mafia we’re talking about!”

“And we’re the Peaky fucking Blinders.” John stated, gun slung over his shoulder.

“No, we’re not, John! We’re not the Peaky fucking Blinders unless we’re together!”

Esme stepped closer to Michael, “You were together in the gallows, with one man missing.”

Michael took a second, then ignored Esme and returned to his calmed state. “John. John, come to the meeting. All right? Think about the kids.” John’s gaze began to move, as did his body when Esme turned to see his reaction, “Come to the meeting, and if you want to leave, then fine.”

“No. It’s Christmas day. We have a family now, we’re staying at home!” Esme shouted. Michael looked to Y/n with a pleading raise of his eyebrows. She closed her eyes and shook her head with shrug, there wasn’t much she could do to change Esme’s mind.

A man pushed over a hay bale, vaulting over it and readying his gun.

John, already facing the direction of the cart, did the same, cocking his gun and yelling to Esme and his sister. “In the fucking house!”

Michael lifted his head, noticing the man and cart. “Esme-” More men jumped out. Michael recognized the cart, which he had passed on the way here. The honking of his car’s horn as he rushed, a form of pleading for it to move out of his way.

John fired at them, hitting a hay bale but missing the men. “John!” Michael pushed Esme inside and tossed a gun to his cousin, who ran beside her brother in an attempt to help. She quickly realized her brother’s mistake in the choice of his gun. He was quick to shoot again, but the men were quick to shoot back, weapons faster than his shot gun.

Esme halted behind the door, glancing to the siblings with fear. No. It couldn’t be. It pained her just much as it would had it been the other Shelby. It wasn’t John, though he had been in the front, it was his sister. She pushed herself in front of her brother. Unknown to anyone but her, her mind flashed with thoughts of her family, of John’s family. Of Charlie and her other nieces and nephews. Of her mother.

The bullets hit her in repetition, over and over and over again. The bullets from the mafia continued hitting her stomach and chest leaving bloodied holes in her clothing and body. Time felt like it was moving in slow motion.

Y/n felt nothing but content. Peaceful. Free.

The violent scene resumed around her soon-to-be-lifeless body as she dropped to the ground. Michael was hit with a bullet, not enough to kill him, but grazing him just right, just enough, to make him drop to the ground as well, dragging John down with him.

A peaceful moment. Though she now lie hanging onto life as tight as she could, maybe just to say goodbye, she felt peaceful. A smile found it’s way onto her face, the shock and pain got to her, a dreamy look filled her eyes.

She could hear Esme’s painful screams, the agony and sorrow dripping from her throat. She felt John lift her head onto his lap and his tears drip onto her face. His face was red, nose snotty and eyes puffy as he cried for her to hold on. As he cried and told her that they’d find someone who could help. As he told her that they would kill the mafia for what they did to his sister.

“J-John.” She coughed up blood. Her head twitched slightly as John’s hand caressed her cheek, Esme and Michael now kneeling over her body as well. Y/n’s eyes scanned Michael’s wounds, to which he gave her a look. A look that read regret and possibly a message of “now’s not the time”.

“Take c-care of Esme and y-your kids. Tell them I-I love them. Tell all of our fam-family I l-love them.” She smiled up at his teary face, blood coating her teeth and spilling out of her mouth a bit. “I want you all to be happy.” 

With that last sentence, her eyes stopped acknowledging their presences and flicked up to the sky. A final breath left her mouth and her head lolled limp on his lap. His thumb, still stroking her cheek, felt the warmth leave her body, slowly being replaced with a dreadfully-familiar cold. The cold of the dead. 

His sister now lied dead in his lap, a smile still upon her face, no hint of regret anywhere. Esme clung to him once she processed Y/n’s passing. The way she shoved herself in front of her brother so carelessly, like she wanted it to happen. She thought of the way Y/n had been hesitant to join them or Tommy and Grace, or really any of the couples of the family, when they went places.

Before Y/n passed, when she was looking to the heavens, her mind showed her a sight. She stood before her mother, who was smiling and well in the afterlife. Y/n couldn’t think of anything else, but joining her. Her mother moved to the side, showing her more of what she could join in on. 

She knew all three of the women in front of her. Grace talked with John’s dead wife, both of them smiling at Y/n and eagerly beckoning her over to them. Her mum slowly moved her hand, welcoming Y/n to the paradise. 

So, she grabbed onto her mother’s extended hand and greeted her new company.

. . .

“Go fuck those bastards responsible!” Polly sobbed a yell at Tommy, returning to her place over Y/n’s body, brushing her hair from her face. Her lifeless body was brought to the family and chaos ensued.

Tommy grabbed handfuls of his hair and tugged while yelling until his face turned red upon the discovery of his dead sibling. Arthur threw items, flipped tables, and let the cries of agony escape him just as Tommy had. The rest of the family had pretty similar reactions, aside from Ada.

Her eyes were greeted with the sight of her sister, bloodied up and dead. Her hand darted to her mouth, tears spilled from her eyes, her legs moved to Y/n’s side before she could think of the action. Whimpers and small croaks of screams left her mouth muffled.

They knew one of them were likely to die at some point. They wouldn’t have handled that well either. But. Their sister? The kind and cheery one of the bunch. The one who hid her tough shield behind her forgiving smile? No one thought she’d be the first to leave the living.

Her depression was known, and her family helped her care for it, helped make her happy and let her know how much they loved her. They tried their hardest, and her thoughts of suicide were gifted to her in a disguise of murder. But why?

Why her?

“It should’ve been me...”

“Don’t say that John...she wanted you alive...”

“It should’ve though...” Pangs of guilt were sent straight to not just his heart, but his brothers’. His sister’s. His aunt’s. His wife’s. His cousin’s. They felt guilty for what had been done, the murder of Y/n was no one of the Peaky Blinder’s fault, but everyone still blamed themselves.

. . .

John and Esme cuddled into each other by the fire, no words being spoken, their hearts heavy and eyes watery. One of John’s children walked up to them, rubbing their puffy red eyes that matched their parents’ and tilting their head at their father.

“Are you crying cause you miss Auntie? Don’t worry, she’s just sleeping. Under those stars outside my window. She’s.. she has only fallen asleep.”

“What?”

“Auntie. She’s only fallen asleep. And when God says it’s time, he’ll wake her up.” The little boy climbed onto the sofa. “I hope she’s dreaming of me. What about you, mummy?”

Esme’s mouth had dropped in shock from the sentence. “I-I- uh yeah... I do too, my love. I think she’s dreaming of you, for sure. I- I think she’s dreaming of you, me, daddy, all of us.”

“I hope she has a good sleep. Speaking of sleep, can you tuck me in? Aunt Y/n did it a special way...I miss it when she tucked me in.” John and Esme’s hearts ached at the sight of their child, eyebrows scrunched in thought before he jumped up and his face filled with joy. “Maybe when she wakes up she can tuck me in again!”

“Of course sweetie...” Esme’s voice cracked with sadness laced through her words and smile. “Time for bed, dearest... Wanna show mummy and daddy how Auntie used to tuck you in?”

The boy beamed with happiness, nodding eagerly at the idea. “Mhm!” He grabbed his parent’s arms and pulled them into his room, telling them instructions. After he finished, they sat on his bed with him, their tears breaking free at his final sentences before he kissed them goodnight;

“Goodnight Y/n! I hope you wake up soon, we miss you! Sleep well and dream good dreams of me under those stars of yours!”

#they have only fallen asleep #tommy shelby #esme shelby #polly gray #michael gray #arthur shelby #ada shelby #thomas shelby #linda shelby #grace shelby #finn shelby #under stars #aurora #aurora aksnes #shelby family #Peaky Blinders #peaky blinder fanfic #by order of the peaky blinders #peaky blinder imagine #PEAKY FOOKIN BLINDERS #peaky blinders x reader #peaky blinders reader insert #john shelby x reader #john shelby x sibling reader #john shelby x sister #tommy shelby x reader #tom shelby x reader #thomas shelby x reader #cillian murphy x reader #joe cole x reader

[hb-writes]

A Candle in the Darkness

Written in response to Hauntober prompt #23: Candle.

Summary: From the Little Lady Blinder universe! Teenaged Clara still needs her brother sometimes.

Characters Featured: Clara Shelby (Shelby!Sister) and Tommy Shelby

——-

“Tommy?” Clara said her brother’s name while she was still in the hallway outside his bedroom.

A candle from within spilled the smallest bit of light across the hallway carpet so Clara knew he was still very much awake, but she still mumbled his name, her query almost a whisper. 

She didn’t hear an immediate response and peeked her head through the door, repeating his name again, a bit louder this time, her own candle making the room a bit brighter.

Tommy looked up, checking the time on the clock before setting his book to the side and looking back to her. “Everything alright?”

“The lights are out,” Clara said, pulling tighter the blanket around her shoulders, the very same blanket she’d had on her bed in Small Heath, the one Tommy had gifted her from his own bed when he’d gone to France. 

Tommy nodded. It happened during the storms, trouble with the electricity in the house. He’d already told the staff to get someone over in the morning.

“Well, um, do you know when Finn’s coming home?” she asked, fumbling over her words. “It’s getting late.” 

“Tomorrow night, I’d imagine,” Tommy answered. “He’s got a job with John early tomorrow and I can’t believe he’ll be driving out in this weather.” 

“Of course. Right,” Clara answered. “That makes sense.”

Tommy watched his sister set her candle down as she busied herself fidgeting with the pocket watch and cufflinks on his dresser. 

“Is there something else?” he asked, his words followed by an abrupt barrage of thunder. 

Clara started and the cufflink clattered on the hardwood as it fell from her grasp to bounce on the floor. 

“No, no, nothing in particular,” she answered, replacing the cufflink and offering her brother a small smile.

“Well, it’s late. You should be in bed.”

“I was in bed,” she answered. “But then I couldn’t sleep.”

Tommy watched her. “Why’s that?” 

Clara shrugged. “I don’t know. Sometimes sleep is just hard to come by, you know?” 

Tommy did know. Sleep rarely found him easily and it wasn’t uncommon for him to lie awake at night. Throughout her life, Clara had had bouts of similar struggles. 

“Well, put the candle out and c’mon then,” Tommy said as he glanced to the empty spot beside him.

It had been close to a year since Clara sought his comfort in the middle of the night and despite his encouragement, she hesitated, still just a few steps in from the door. 

It was another sudden clap of thunder that nudged Clara further into the room, spurring her to put out the candle and climb over her brother to the indicated spot, settling with the blanket wrapped around her.

“Since when are you so afraid of thunder?” Tommy asked as she settled.

Clara peeked around him, watching the lightning flash, the windows pelted by large, angry raindrops. She shrugged, shifting closer to him. 

“It’s that story you and Finn have been reading,” Tommy said. “Once again reading books you’re not grown enough for.”

“We’re grown enough. It’s jus—” Clara started. “It’s just a harrowing tale and then with being in this grand house with all the empty rooms and—” She scoffed at his raised eyebrow. “Just ask Finn!”

“So harrowing a tale you can’t sleep without a brother to protect you from the things that go bump in the night, eh?”

Tommy smirked at her as the thunder clapped again. Clara jolted against him, cuddling closer. 

He knew she’d been staying in Finn’s room since they started reading the book together, the two of them falling asleep late after they finished their reading and conversation, so tired that they couldn’t fight the closing of their eyes despite the cortisol in their veins and the monsters on their minds.

“It’s not funny.”

“It is a bit funny, Clara. Nearly fifteen, going off about being a young woman who doesn’t nee—”

“Well, maybe I still need you sometimes,” she interrupted. “If I say so, will that shut you—”

Thunder clapped again and Clara grabbed her brother’s arm.

“You can need your family as long as you’d like,” Tommy answered, shifting out of her grasp to place his arm around her shoulder. “But just so you know, I expect this type of thing from the baby, not from you.” 

“That boy has no fear, Tommy, and he sleeps like the dead.” 

Tommy glanced towards the door as he considered getting up to check on his son. 

“He was still fast asleep before I came in.” 

Tommy nodded. He was grateful to his little sister for things like that, especially with Grace back in Ireland visiting family. Of course, there were Charles’s nannies, but it calmed him to know Clara was always checking in as well.

“So what are we reading tonight?” she asked. 

Clara didn’t wait for an answer and leaned across Tommy to pull the book into her hands. She settled back against the pillows, handing him a measure of the blankets. “Freud? Can I read?”

Tommy looked to the clock as he debated it. “For a bit.” 

“Where?” 

Tommy pointed to a paragraph midway down the page, smiling as she began to read aloud about infantile amnesia. He’d heard her read aloud many times over the last year, to Charlie or with Finn, but this was different, her words coming out slower, her pronunciation deliberate as she processed the words while speaking them, the steady cadence lulling him toward a restful place.

“What was your first memory?” Clara asked, her question tacked onto the end of a paragraph she’d just finished. 

Tommy had closed his eyes, leaning back with one arm behind his head while he listened. Clara jabbed her elbow into his side and Tommy coughed, sitting up a bit as he raised an eyebrow at her.

“Watch yourself,” he said.

Clara smiled and snuggled further under the blanket. “What was your first memory?” she repeated. 

“Wishing I was an only child,” Tommy answered, squinting at her.

Clara lifted her elbow again and Tommy put up a hand to stop her. 

“What about you?” he asked. 

“This,” Clara answered. “Us reading.”

Tommy’s blinked, his eyes remaining shut for an extra moment as he inhaled. He was growing something close to tired, his limbs heavy and his mind serene.

“Mum used to read to us kids when we were little. Pile the four of us into her bed and we’d all take turns.”

“Mum liked to read?” Clara asked.

Tommy nodded. “And to tell stories. She didn’t get to read as much as you do but she always gave us a story at bedtime. And she was always working through something on her own as well, cookbooks, brochures, our school books. Whatever she could get her hands on.”

Clara closed the book and burrowed further into the pillows. 

“Guess that means it’s my turn, then?” Tommy asked, reaching for the book. 

Clara clasped her arms around it tighter before he could take it, shaking her head. “Enough psychology. Tell me more about mum.”

Tommy glanced at the clock again. “Alright, one story. Then you’re going to sleep.” 

“Agreed,” Clara answered, leaning across him to blow out the candle so the only light left in the room was that of the intermittent lightning strikes. “But make sure it’s a good story, and make sure you do the voices if there are any.”

Clara didn’t see her brother shaking his head at her in the dark, a small smile on his face as he decided on the perfect story to share, something soft and pleasant, a tale to let her forget about things like monsters and thunderstorms, a candle in the darkness of the mind as she allowed her tired eyes fall closed. 

-----

Read more Little Lady Blinder stories here.

#hauntober #peaky blinders #peaky blinders fanfic #tommy shelby #shelby!sister #shelby sister #clara shelby #little lady blinder

[ijustwant2write]

A Bad Arrangement-Thomas Shelby x Reader

(GIF credit to @sihtrics)

Tags: @captivatedbycillianmurphy @jenepleurepasbaby @amirahiddleston @bloodorangemoonlight

Requested by anonymous: ‘Hi! Could I request a tommy imagine in which the reader and him are in an arranged Marriage. She tries to be a good wife, but he’s very cold towards her and she feels sad about it. One day he comes home in a rather sour mood and the reader tries to cheer him up, but since he’s upset he says something harmful to her which makes her cry. He feels bad and goes to talk to her and tells her the reason he was cold towards her is because he was scared she would end up like grace. A fluffy ending pls❤️’

Characters: Thomas Shelby x Reader

Meanings: (Y/N)=Your name

Warnings: Neglect, sadness, arguing, swearing, mention of death, fluff

(A/N: I changed it slightly, it worked better with the direction of the plot)

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Charlie's cries could be heard throughout the house, and my instincts kicked in. He wasn't my child, but I had always had a strong nurturing side. I carefully rushing up the stairs, hurrying down the hall to his room when one member of staff stopped me.

"It's alright Mrs Shelby, I'll tend to him." she quietly said.

"No, it's fine, I can look after him. I'm sure you're swept off your feet." I tried to move around her, but she blocked me.

"Please miss."

I sighed."Tommy told you to not let me near him, didn't he?"

Her silence gave me the answer. She hesitated before turning around, making her way into Charlie's room. The door closed before I could even peak inside, and Charlie's cries died down. The frustration in me was building up, I had never felt so humiliated or like an outcast in my entire life. And even in my house, I didn't belong.

As I walked back downstairs, I glanced up at the huge painting of Grace, Tommy's former wife. On the one hand, I understood why he kept it up; he was in love with her, they had a child together, and it was a tragic death. However, it felt as if he was mocking me, telling me that I wasn't as good as her, that I could never live up to her. And he wasn't shy about expressing that either.

This wasn't the marriage I had dreamed of, not the life my mother had told me I would have. After trying and failing to find that love everyone so desperately seeks, I somehow ended up in the clutches of the Shelby's. An arranged marriage (more like a business proposal) had been made between my family and theirs, just so they could tread on some of our territory. We weren't a gang like them, but my father was a powerful man, and he knew how to protect his business. Hence why I was part of the deal; marry the wealthy man's daughter, or lose out on a massive piece of land that would benefit them in the future. The marriage also made a tie between our families, meaning we were supposed to be friendly at all times. Which is why I never told my family about the way I was treated, it would cause an even bigger problem.

I continued down to the kitchen, smelling the freshly baked goods. There were biscuits cooling on a rack, and I hovered my hand above them, checking they weren't too hot. As no one was looking, I pinched one of them, quickly weaving my way out of there, and down to the wine cellar as I ate it. I had noticed that Tommy was in need of another bottle of whiskey in his office (I had been searching for him the day before, not finding him anywhere as usual, and for some reason, it was something that I picked up on), and this was another way to waste time for myself. My finger ran along the many bottles we had, picking up a random one. It seemed fine, I still wasn't aware of what made a good whiskey.

Although I had a feeling that Tommy wasn't in, I knocked on his office door anyway, scared of what would happen if I just entered. When no reply came, I opened it slowly, looking into the room before taking a step inside. My eyes roamed around the place, taking everything in. Tommy never let in me in for a long time, it was the one room I never knew. Slowly making my way towards the trolley stuffed with glasses of alcohol, I swapped the empty whiskey for the new one. That man's alcohol tolerance was amazing.

My head whipped around when I heard echoing footsteps, frozen as I thought about how angry Tommy would be when he caught me. I almost tripped over myself as I moved away from his desk, clutching onto the bottle. The door swun open, and he slammed it behind him before noticing me. With that usual cold expression, he stopped for a second.

"What are you doing in here?" he snapped, storming towards his desk.

"I-I saw that you had no whiskey, so I replaced it." I hated that I stuttered.

He lit a cigarette, not looking at me anymore."Someone else could have done that."

"I don't mind. I mean, it's done now anyway." I gulped."How was your day?"

"Fine."

I waited for him to ask me, even if he wasn't interested. But when he sensed that I hadn't left, he finally glanced at me again.

"Is there anything else?" he mumbled.

"No."

Scurrying away, I held in my tears until the door closed. Hugging the bottle to my chest, I whimpered unexpectedly. When was the last time I had smiled? When was the last time I hadn't cried one day after the other. My hand was shaking as I dumped the bottle onto a nearby table. It wasn't fair. I had been good all my life, why was I being punished?

The evening arrived, meaning another day of not existing was about to pass. Slumping upstairs after another lonely meal, I headed towards our room, when I saw Charlie standing up in his cot. He smiled as he spotted me, wriggling around and giggling. No one was going to stop me from seeing that boy, he had lost one mother, he wasn't going to lose another.

"Hi," I gushed as I approached him, both of us smiling at each other,"you should be asleep."

I picked him up, cradling him close to me, his tiny arms wrapping around me. I rocked him as I rubbed his back, taking the feeling in. He was instantly calmed, snuggling into me, and I cherished it. I wanted a child of my own. I wanted to know that feeling of being pregnant, the connection you had as soon as you gave birth, and for Charlie to have a sibling to play with. Just as I thought he had settled, about to place him back in his cot, he whined, and I straightened up again.

"Mummy." his words were muffled in my shoulder, but I heard it anyway.

He hadn't called me that before. It wasn't a mistake. Charlie knew I wasn't his real mum, and yet he had just called me that. I could hear his breathing become deeper, he had to be asleep by now. Though I didn't want to separate myself from him, I reluctantly laid him down, kissing his head ever so gently. Tiptoeing put of his bedroom, I pulled the door closed silently, luckily not waking him up as it clicked shut.

Most nights I couldn't sleep anyway, I would just lie in the plush bed, head resting on the finest of pillows; still with all this comfort, my mind was still wide awake. The way Charlie had said 'mummy' repeated itself over and over. Of course I had cried over it, but I had also cried at the joy he gave me. My heart hadn't felt such love for a long time. Tommy could be heard coming up the stairs, and I knew it was him because all of the staff were dismissed for the night; and the fact that it was three in the morning.

I rolled onto my side, pulling the covers over me. My eyes stayed open as I saw the light from the hallway illuminate the room, but we were shut in darkness again. Closing my eyes to seem asleep, I heard Tommy fumble around, sighing a couple of times. After a few minutes, the bed dipped beside me, but I knew he wasn’t lying down yet. When we were first married, I had tried to lay near him, wishing he would hold me just once. And it was extremely rate for him to even be in bed, not that it made any difference. Over time, I had inched further away from him, creating a huge space between us. I hadn’t cried myself to sleep in a while, and tonight I seemed to be falling back into that habit, whether it was due to what Charlie said or because Tommy yelled at me. But I couldn’t cry freely tonight, not with Tommy in the room. It wasn’t something I could control, so I subtly buried my head into the pillow, hoping that my shoulders weren’t shaking too much. Even if he did see me in such a state, it wouldn't phase him. He would probably slip away to fund peace elsewhere.

I could feel how puffy my eyes were in the morning, dried tears masked on my cheeks. My hand ran down my face, before flopping down to my sides. I didn't need to check if Tommy was there, he was never there in the morning.

Not bothering to dress for breakfast, I tied my robe around me, head hung low as I walked down the hallway. The only time I looked up from the ground was to see if Charlie was awake, but he had already been taken out of his room. I had to see that boy again today, I had to hear him call me 'mummy' again.

As I sat at the table, waiting to be served breakfast, the head housekeeper, Frances, approached me. She didn't have any food with her, nor anyone following her.

"Mrs Shelby, I have been asked to pass on a message from Mr Shelby." she started, seeming nervous.

My mind instantly jumped to the worst thoughts, panicking that something terrible had happened."What is it?"

"He has...demanded that you stay away from Charlie."

"Stay away?"

"He says you were told before that you weren't to interact, and apparently you have violated that."

"And leave that boy without a mother?"

"I'm sorry miss, it's what he ordered. My staff would be in trouble-"

"I understand." I accidentally snapped, regretting my tone."Is he here? Of course he's not, when is he ever here?"

"No, he isn't."

I could stand to be in that room anymore, not with all the tension I had caused. Frances backed away when I stood, and I left without a second glance. No matter how big this house was, I always felt like I was in a tiny box, like it was being crushed and no one cared if it hurt me. Sprinting out of the front door, I ignored the sharp gravel digging into my feet, heading towards the open field we had for the horses. I looked like someone who had escaped an asylum.

Everything around me was Tommy's, there was nothing of value that I owned here. He was in charge, he had control. I no longer had a life here, that had disappeared as soon as the ring was put on my finger. I tugged at my wedding band, desperate to take it off my finger, as if it was burning me; but it was stuck there, refusing to budge. I screamed out in frustration, slamming the ground with my fists. Tommy Shelby was a cruel man, and for what? I wasn't Grace, I understood that, but why did he have to be so horrible?

With my arms crossed over my chest, remnants of dirt still on my hands, I paced around Tommy's office. I didn't care if I wasn't supposed to be in here, he was going to answer my questions. I still wasn't dressed, and it was well into the late afternoon now. If I had to, I would wait all night in that room. Luckily I wouldn't have to, because his care had pulled up on the driveway, and it was only a matter of a few minutes when we would face each other.

He didn't hold back his deep sigh when he opened the door."Why are you in here again?"

"I want to speak to you." I confidently said.

"It'll have to wait." he headed towards his desk, and I scoffed at him.

"No, it won't wait. I won't wait. What made you think that you could stop me from seeing Charlie?"

"(Y/N), I am not about to argue with you."

I raised my voice, my emotions getting the better of me."He's only a baby! He needs a mother figure. You know, that boy is my only source of happiness in this hell hole, and you've taken that away from me!"

"Stop trying so fucking hard!" He yelled back."He's not your son, he's mine! You didn't give birth to him, my dead wife did! You don't do anything to benefit this family, I could have easily taken over your father's territory, but instead I chose the peaceful way, which I regret every day of my life!"

My bottom lip trembled, tears streaming down my face."You don't mean that."

"Oh but I do." he seethed."You don't understand what I do out there to keep us protected, to make sure I can feed us, to make sure no one dies!"

He quickly walked towards me, and I was too scared to stand my ground. I cried out as I fled for the door, clumsily opening it before escaping. My sobbing was loud through the spacious halls, footsteps heavy on the stairs, slamming the bedroom door as hard as I could once I was inside. My shaking legs managed to carry me to the bed before I collapsed, finding myself crying there once again.

It must have been an hour later when the door clicked open. I tensed up, slowly backing up against the headboard as Tommy stepped in. He stared at me, and I thought I saw a moment of sadness in his eyes, but told myself I imagined it. Cautiously approaching me, I stayed still as he stood at the end of the bed, hands in his pockets with his head bowed.

"I'm sorry."

"W-what?" I was in disbelief, he had never apologised to me.

He raised his head, looking me dead in the eye."I'm sorry for shouting at you, I know I scared you. I never want to do that."

I said nothing, hoping he would add onto that.

"I don't like being horrible to you. You don't deserve it."

"Then why do you do it?"

He seemed surprised that I had spoke."I do it to protect you."

"What do you mean?"

"I fell in love with Grace. I let her in, I told her things about the business. And she died. She took a bullet that was meant for me, and I'll never forgive myself for that. I had set up a life that wouldn't involve another woman, it would just be me and Charlie. And then this happened. I couldn't hurt or kill your father, I didn't have any reason to, it was more beneficial to make a deal. And you were a part of that."

"You didn't want anymore blood on your hands." I mumbled.

"Although I was desperate to not marry you, not just because we didn't know each other, but I didn't want to put you in the same danger as Grace. By not getting close to you, not taking an interest, I didn't have the chance to gain any feelings, even a friendship."

"You took Charlie away from me. It tipped me over the edge."

"I know."

"You've hurt me a lot Tommy."

"And I wish I hadn't. It seemed the only way to keep you safe."

"I wasn't asking you to love me. What I really wanted was at least a friendship. If you didn't want Charlie to see me as a mother-"

"I know what he called you the other day."

"The maid who told me about you sneaking in, she mentioned it."

"Are you mad?"

"No. But I'm angry that my son has been able to move on faster than I have."

"He hasn't moved on, he doesn't fully understand what happened. Charlie will remember Grace if we talk about her."

"You would want that?"

"If you want him to remember, who am I to take that away from him?"

He raised an eyebrow at me."I thought you would be screaming at me more."

"I don't want to do that. I don't want to be sad anymore. We have a lot of problems to fix, a lot of things to be talked about. But I'm tired, I can't deal with it now, not tonight."

He rounded the bed, coming to my side. Still apprehensive, I watched him closely. There was nothing to be scared of now, not when he was reaching his arms out to me. Reluctantly sitting up on my knees, I glanced into his eyes one last time, before practically engulfing him in the tightest hug possible. It felt good when he squeezed me back. It wasn't as if we had just suddenly fallen in love, we had made a connection, we were wiping the slate clean. Feelings were still hurt, there were things that needed mending between us, but it was a start.

"Can you forgive me for how I've treated you?" He whispered into my ear.

I sighed, tightening my grip."I will, over time."

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