#Charlie Shelby Imagine

[lillyspeakz]

I need fluff abt sitting in Wilbur’s lap. I’m so sleepy and need to be held

Of course darling- I need this too!

-

It had been a rough day at work and the band had invited you to join them at the studio since they were still there. Wil had told you to call him once you were there and to buzz in so he could come and let you in.

As you stepped up to the door, you were startled as the door swung open in front of you, Wilbur standing there with a big grin as he let you in, opening his arms for you to fall into. “I was watching your location, as creepy as that sounds.” He let out a slight ‘oof’ as you placed all your body weight onto him and wrapped your arms around him. “Hey love, what’s wrong?”

You nuzzled further into his chest as you mumbled something incoherent to him. Wilbur gently tapped your cheek and lifted your head to look up at him, giving you raised eyebrows and a soft smile, knowing that you knew what he wanted. “Rough day and mean people.”

Wil sighed at the words and ran his hand through your hair. “I’m sorry love. We’re just working on some finishing touches for some songs. We’ll be done soon, then we can go home and order take out, yeah?” You nodded against his chest as he led you to the studio, letting you walk in first.

Seeing all the boys, you waved to all of them with a smile as they greeted you. Wilbur sat in the corner, motioning for you to come over to him. As you walked over, Wilbur patted the seat next to him, yet you decided that wasn’t where you wanted to be. You stood in between his legs as you sat on his lap and draped your legs over his, Wilbur’s arms wrapping around you and cradling you close to him. “Well hello.” He smiled down at you as he placed your head in the crook of his neck.

Relaxing himself, Wilbur nodded at the group, telling them that they could continue as he placed his hand in your hair and played with the loose strands.

Curling deeper into him, you held onto the fabric of his hoodie, having something of him in your hands so he wouldn’t let you go. Wil’s hand continues to play with your hair as the hand on your thigh rubbed up and down, softly humming the song playing in the background in your ear making your sleepy state more apparent.

You fell into sleeps embrace as Wil placed a gentle kiss on your temple and placed the hair that fell in front of your face behind your ear, admiring your resting face. Seeing every worried crinkle of your eye soften as you got much needed rest. A slight smile making its way onto your face at the dream you were having.

“Are they asleep?” Ash whispered next to Wil, looking over at you and smiling at your state. Nodding, Wil looked up and saw the rest of the boys looking at them and rolled his eyes.

“Let’s get this done so I can get this one home, yeah?”

[padfootdaredmetoo]

Hi so I have a kind of specific request but it doesn’t matter at all what you do with this information could I request a Thomas Shelby and reader fic where the reader only has one eye after some form of circumstance (it can be completely up to you if you want to list it) and after that they are rendered emotionless and have no care for what happens to themselves or others and towards the end they show some form of emotion (example would be a small smile or Wrinkle of the eye to show a form of gratitude etc) this was out of the blue and I thought it sounded cool so I thought I’d request (I’ve never requested something in my life from here)

Dear Anon,

I loved this request. I changed a couple things up a bit and hope that's alright. I'm always struggling to find gifs for fics and thought I would try out making little pictures for it.... not sure how I feel about it yet. Anyway thank you for waiting so long, hope you enjoy it!

Warning: reader got injured as a child and has lasting damage from it

Tommy was never sure what to think of you, he wondered if that’s how people felt about him. You had an elegant voice, the kind that made him think without a doubt that you could sing. It was soft and feminine, none of which reached your features. You were very pretty but completely unemotional. There was a large scar over your eye, but you didn’t cover it. The pink glass orb replacing your right eye was sparkly, part of him thought you enjoyed how unsettled it made people. But that would imply you enjoy things at all. 

He could set you on a task and you would always come back in a timely fashion giving him a nod then going back to your desk at the betting shop. You stayed out of trouble, kept out of family drama, so much so that it made him feel the need to keep a closer watch on you. 

All day you were professional, speaking the bare minimum. You drank black coffee but only once it was cold and took small sips. You would give John a swift shake of the head when he offered you a glass of whiskey. 

He could tell you gave John the creeps, John would talk for hours if you let him, and you would barely give answers to his questions.

“I don’t know how you trust her.” John had whispered to him before running out the door. He wondered this himself. 

“Where bout’s do you live, love?” Tommy asked coming over to stand in front of her desk. 

“A few blocks away.” You said softly, he hated how badly he wanted to hear you continue. 

“Want me to walk you home.” For her protection, he told himself. With the days getting shorter he should make sure someone walks her home. 

“No thank you, Mr. Shelby.” You said politely. 

“Call me Tommy.” He said wanting things to become more casual between the two of you. 

“Tommy,” She said his name in a way that made his heart lurch. He knew he was in trouble. Your green eye looked at him with a cold stare. Surly he could make you feel something if you gave him the chance. 

“Well, help me carry something to the pub then? That on the way to yours?” 

“That would not be a problem.” You gave him a nod before he went into the back room trying to think of something to carry to the pub. He tossed some bottles into an old crate. Coming back into the main room he watched you pull your jacket on. 

He Put the crate down on the desk and pulled out his wallet. He handed it to you and picked up the crate of empty bottles. Your expression was the usual stony mask not even a hint of confusion. 

“Ready?” You gave a nod then followed him out. 

“I’ve never had someone want to walk be home this badly before.” Her voice had him feeling tangled up inside.

“It’s dark.” He said dismissively. 

“As it is every night.” She said softly. She wasn't going to let him win, he couldn't think of anything to say as he felt your eye on him again.

You followed him to the pub and he left the crate at the doorstep. You stared at him for a long moment and he swore he saw a slight twinkle in your eye.

You turned on your heel, moving into the dark alley way. You lifted your arm up showing you still had his wallet. 

Tommy didnt need more of an invitation. 

____________________________________

Tommy walked you home every night, and every night you left him on the doorstep. You avoided gatherings at the Garrison, so that was his only real time with you. A part of him felt that he should be asking you questions, try to figure you out. But the desire to be silent with someone was greater than his curiosity. 

This routine continued as the nights got colder and he wondered if you enjoyed it at all. 

The shop was closing up and he was making his last phone call. You were organizing the papers on your desk. The door opened to the shop and Charlie ran through. Tommy’s stomach clenched wanting to know why he wasn't home with Polly. He assumed the boy would come right to him and continued his phone call while keeping an eye out. 

He went to you and he felt a sense of discomfort. Charlie wouldn't understand that you were closed off, he was only four. He came around the side of your desk and peered up at you. 

_______________________________________________

You were almost done you work when the door opened and shut, you paid it no attention as it probably didn’t concern you. You were about to open the bottom drawer of your desk when you saw a little boy peering around the edge of your desk. He was quiet and observant. You wondered what had messed him up to make him that way. Ah, yes this was Grace’s son, that explained it. 

“Are you a pirate?” He whispered, his eyes focused on the pink glass eye. 

“No, but I was taken by pirates when I was young.” You tapped your eye, feeling a flicker of enjoyment as the boys eyes got wide. 

“What happened!” He was so eager, and you remembered being that way as a child. You opened your top drawer and pulled out some candy you kept in there. 

You slid a piece across the table and the boy smiled. You felt Tommy come out of his office. 

“Maybe your dad will let me come over sometime for a bedtime story, I can tell you all about it.” You ruffled the boy's hair, knowing your words were more for Tommy than him. 

You gave the boy a smile, it took a bit of concentration but the boy took in a breath. You thought maybe it didn’t look right and that maybe you frightened him. 

“The pirates took you because you're so pretty.” The boy's eyes were wide. You let out a small laugh and winced with the familiar pain that followed. 

“Feel like a sleepover?” Tommy asked picking Charlie up. Typical Tommy, willing to use his kid as a bargaining chip. The boy clung on to his father but moved so he could keep looking at you. 

“No bottles for the pub tonight?” You were being cheeky, but he wouldn't understand that. 

“Nah, we can deal with it tomorrow.” 

You gave him a slight nod and followed the boys out of the betting shop. Polly was there talking to a lady in a house coat. You assumed they must have been neighbors at one point. She greeted Tommy with a smile but looked slightly startled to see you there. 

“Thanks Pol.” He said and she gave a warm smile to you. 

“You have a good night.” You gave her a nod then she continued her conversation with the woman. Tommy carried Charlie back to his car and he opened the passenger side for you. You got in, pulling your long skirt in after you. 

“Can I sit on your lap?” Tommy was closing the door and you held out a hand to the boy. He got settled on your lap and rubbed his cheek on the fur collar of your jacket. 

“So soft.” He murmured. You held on to the boy enjoying the embrace. Thankfully the boy was very still and easy to sit with. The drive was about a half hour and you realized Tommy added about 20 minutes to every night just to walk with you in silence. 

____________________________________________

You let the maid take your jacket and didn't miss the way Tommy’s eyes looked over your figure. You felt a twinge of anxiety, how badly you would like to be touched in a way that wouldn't hurt you. 

Charlie was rattling on about something and grabbed your hand leading you up to his bedroom. He showed you his various stuffed animals. Tommy took him into the bathroom to get him washed and dressed. 

“Promise you’ll wait!” He called out of the little attached bathroom 

“Promise.” You called back, you sat on his bed, and took in the space. He had a lot of books and soft toys. A knot in your throat formed as you felt the little girl in you scream in envy. You assumed Tommy had the same type of kid somewhere deep inside of him. His boy was kind and polite, observant and smart, and never had to worry about things. He had clean clothes, a nice room, books to learn from, and a dad who came home every night. 

He might have been smoking and drinking, murdering after breakfast, whores for lunch. But you knew that unless he was away for business, Tommy came home to his kid. It was a work ethic you had a great deal of respect for. 

The boy ran out of the bathroom in a soft pin-striped pj set and took a leap up onto the bed landing next to you. 

“Now tell me about the Pirates.” He said with hungry eyes. 

“Well, it all started when I was small.” You told him a wild story. About being left behind by your family, how the forest took you in as one of its own, growing up with magic. One day you were dancing along the cliffs, spinning in the wind and singing, when a pirate captain snatched you right off the rocks. How he had carved out your eye in hopes of gaining the ability to see the magic in the forest. It didn't work and eventually, the mermaids crashed his ship, leaving you stranded in the water. You floated along until his dad pulled you out of the cut. 

“How did you survive in the water that long!” He whispered in awe. 

“My magic’s not in my lost eye, it's right here.” You pointed at your heart, wishing people could see more of it. 

“Can you get a blue eye so we can match?” He asked and you could feel Tommy’s discomfort. 

“I suppose I could try and ask the fairies to make me a new one.” 

“Time for bed Charlie,” Tommy said softly. 

“Will you come back again to visit?” Charlie said grabbing your arm as you tried to stand up from his bed. 

“That sounds like a nice idea.” You tried to smile again and it ended up as more of a wince. He didnt seem to notice. 

_______________________

You followed Tommy down the stairs, amazed he hadn't just taken you down the hall to his bedroom. Maybe you upset him, thinking about it you were a little bit gruesome with the details and Charlie was really small. 

You kept following him surprised when you moved away from the front door, he walked towards the other end of the house and then pushed open a heavy door. 

He pulled you into a warm and well loved kitchen. It smelled like lamb stew and you realised he was going to try and feed you dinner. You panicked slightly before taking a breath, he invited you to his home. If he doesnt like you, he doesnt have to have you back. 

He motioned for you to sit and poured two glasses of whiskey. 

“I have wine, gin -” 

“I can’t drink -” You said hoping you didnt seem rude. He simply raised and eyebrow and then put both gasses in front of his spot at the table. 

“No alcohol.” You clarified. 

“Oh, Tea, water, juice?” You thought about which would be easiest and settled for juice. 

“Juice please.” You watched him pour a glass of cranberry juice into a whiskey glass. 

You thought about sipping it but you felt too shaky at the moment. 

“So Pirates eh?” 

“Sorry if I scared him -” 

“Nah, he liked it. Got me curious as to what actually happened though” He brought you a bowl of stew and a spoon. You looked down at the inviting warm mixture. Would it be worth risking it? 

“Hmmm.” You sighed and then realized that he kept you around because of your work ethic, telling him the truth just meant he wouldn't have a romantic interest in you. A sadness flooded you but it was better to get these things over with. 

“Well, I dropped a glass in the kitchen when I was little. My dad hit me and I hit my head on the kitchen tiles. The glass got in my eye I have -” You took a shaky breath. “A lot of nerve damage in my face. Sometimes it’s a bit hard to talk or move my face. I’m in a great deal of pain everywhere most of the time actually.” 

Tommy studied you carefully. 

“I’m sorry.” The words hit you like a bus, another failed conquest. You took another breath. He motioned for you to eat and you looked down at the large pieces of lamb.

“Might not be graceful.” You whispered, hating the anxiety humming through you. Can’t he just say this won’t work out and take you home? 

“Nothing about me is graceful.” He shrugged. “Do you - Can I help?” his kindness took you off guard. 

“No thank you.” You took a spoonful of broth and slurped it down. It took you the better half of an hour to get the soup finished. Tommy talked though which was nice. He was quiet like you, something you enjoyed about his company.  

“Stay in my bed?” 

“Oh.” You wanted to say yes. Even if it was just for night you wanted to know what it felt like. “I’ve not - I don’t know if I ca -” 

“Just to sleep then?” 

“I can do that” You smiled knowing it was crooked and painful to look at. He smiled back at you and it was also pained and crooked. 

________________________

Her staying in Tommy’s bed for the night. Neither of them sleeps normally, so they end up talking for a lot of the night. He puts on some records and they lay in silence listening to the music. 

He stops seeing whores at lunch after that

After a while, it’s full-on dating and they prefer each other's company rather than lying awake alone. 

He notices her pain now and tries to help her out any way he can.

He asks her if touch is painful and she shrugs not sure how to give a solid answer - he tries a variety of things to make her feel good. 

Charlie is happy and likes your stories but understands that sometimes you can’t talk. He will sit next to you and make up his own stories to make you feel better.

[i-lovee-bellie]

ׂ╰┈➤ baby fever is off the charts rn.

[eu-nicola]

Tommy Shelby x Reader

summary: Your love for Tommy even protected him from his own actions

posted on my ao3: abigaildaen

sorry english isn’t my first language

part 2

part 3

You were walking through the living room when you heard footsteps behind you, when you see your stepson come in you smile in his presence and he does too, your incredible baby bump bumped into him when you both greeted each other. At that moment you were really tired after having been moving all day, he noticed it and helped you sit on the nearest sofa trying to make you as comfortable as possible.

"How is the baby?". Charlie asked. "He is fine, he is strong like his father." Charlie smiled at the answer and asked your permission with a gesture to touch your belly which you granted while you closed your eyes for a moment due to exhaustion.

"Where is my father?", He asked. You opened your eyes and looked at him still admiring your belly. "I don't know, somewhere lost in the madness." You just said

"Why did you marry with him?", Charlie asked as he moved away from you to sit in another seat. "I fell in love with him from the first day I saw him, he is not so affectionate but I understand everything that has happened to him and I respect him."

"But he's not even here to check on you." He refuted. "I still forgive him, I guess he has more important things to do and I'm here pregnant so I don't think he can talk about much with me." You loved Tommy no matter how much times you stood up for him.

"I want to be a good father to my children, not like him.". With pain throughout your body you settled into your seat and took his hands. "One day you will be and you will see that the love you will have could make you destroy the whole world, that is what your father would do for you if something happened to you."

"You are a good woman, I am glad that my father was able to find you and surely you will be a good mother.". “I look forward to that, I'm excited to meet him and I even picked a name."

"Which?". "George."

"Dad knows?. He asked. "Well he's never here but as soon as I can I will, I'm excited for him to know". You said while caressing your belly.

While they were talking about the baby you hadn't noticed but the front door of your house had rang and your husband had arrived for the first time in so long early before dinner.

“Tommy”. You said looking at him surprised to see him so early at home.

[missmomof3]

Deep Regret (shelby sister fic)

Sorry if this is awful, this is my first time ever trying to write a fanfiction. I'm not sure what this would be classified as but probably too long to be a drabble. Maybe an imagine? If anyone reads this, thank you and I am fine with criticism (I'm sure I did lots of things wrong) but please be kind.

Summary: y/n shelby always tried to make her family happy, but they all believed Grace over her and soon most bonds were disintegrating, especially with Tommy, who she'd always loved and looked up to.

TW:character death, not proofread, possibly missing some so read at your your own discretion.

"Y/N get in here!" Tommy yelled from his office at you where you were sitting in Michael's office doing your homework.

"What did you do this time" Michael asked, irritated but fortunately not at you, he hadn't turned on you.

You had always been Tommy's favorite sibling, him more of a father than a brother to you until Charlie was born. Until recently you'd even lived at Arrowhouse with Grace and him. But after Charlie was born suddenly Grace began complaining to Tommy of how disrespectful you were when no one was around. That you called her names, taunted her and even until they married, had nicknamed little Charlie "the bastard". But just to her, not around anyone else. You hadn't ever done any of that and at first were confused when Tommy began yelling at you frequently and you weren't allowed alone with Charlie anymore.

He held a family meeting without you there to discuss your behavior. By the time that happened you weren't friendly to Grace anymore because what was the point when you'd be in trouble anyways. The family had noticed the tension so for the most part believed Tommy when he told them of your troubling behavior and they began being short with you and before long it felt like all you had left was Ada, Finn and Michael. Polly was no Grace fan but was disappointed in you for supposedly insulting a baby and felt like you should be grateful Grace had agreed to let you live in their house. John, Esme, Arthur and Linda took that line of thinking as well, deeply disappointed in how you went from being one of the sweetest people they knew to being so disrespectful and cruel. They especially were disappointed that you'd be so two-faced and only do this while no one else was around. At least have the backbone to own your behavior was their thoughts.

So now here you were, living with Polly because even though she was disappointed you were still her niece, but living with hostility everywhere. You were still polite when you saw Grace, but now you held yourself back from everyone so their accusations and lack of faith in you didn't hurt so badly.

Responding to Michael's question with a shrug, you got up to walk into Tommy's office ready to be told off again for some imagined offense.

"Sit down y/n," Tommy said coldly, "and explain to me why you felt the need to make my wife cry last night."

Family dinner was held at Arrowhouse last night, and even though you hadn't wanted to go, Ada promised she'd be there and insisted you go with your head held high, knowing you were innocent. She never believed Tommy, remembering how it felt when Grace's betrayal took her Freddy away. Remembering you sneaking to her place to help with Karl, and how alone she felt thinking her brother betrayed her. It baffled her how her family could believe Grace over you, but whenever she brought it up they all asked why Grace would lie when she loved Tommy and she knew how much sending you away and practically severing his bond with you had hurt him. So she, Michael and Finn still staunchly defended you but gave up on getting through to anyone. That's why last night you stuck close to Ada, never being alone with Grace, in the hopes this very incident wouldn't be happening.

"Tell me, oh brother of mine, what did I do to Grace now?" You asked, no longer worried abour his reaction to your attitude since you had already grieved the loss of your relationship.

So he started laying out some imagined conversation that happened in the kitchen when Grace went to ask Mary a question. According to her you'd seen her and started criticizing her hosting skills, telling her what a disaster the upcoming charity gala would be.

You smirked at his tirade, because this time you knew you had proof. "Call Ada, ask her what happened last night" you said, standing up and getting ready to leave.

"I haven't dismissed you yet," Tommy clipped, grabbing your arm. "I am putting you on notice, if you do anything to embarrass Grace tomorrow night at the gala, I will have no choice but to completely cut you from the family the minute you turn 18. That means no help, no using the Shelby name, you'll be on your own."

"Bold of you to assume once I'm 18 I'll be sticking around here" you said, rolling your eyes, "I know my place now, at the bottom. When I'm an adult I'll take care of myself. I'll miss the family I had, but I'll make my own." Then you left.

Tommy sat with his head in his hands. You'd never know how much his heart broke to imagine you completely gone from his life. He didn't know how to reach you anymore. His sister, closer to a daughter. He still loved you so much and had hoped tough love would work, but he missed you deeply and choosing his wife and son had felt like removing a large part of his heart. If only you could have stayed the sweet girl you once were, before jealousy had taken over.

When Grace first went to him with your behavior, he hadn't wanted to believe it. But the more she went to him and the more you denied it the more arguments it caused between him and Grace. Until finally she told him he was putting his true family aside for a girl who wasn't his daughter, who would eventually marry and leave him, while his wife and son suffered in the meantime. It became easier to give in, to be angry at the strife in his house that you were causing. Especially when it stopped as soon as you moved to Polly's.

But he couldn't ignore the voice at the back of his head reminding him Grace was an accomplishhed liar while you had always been awful at it. So he called Ada. 30 minutes later he was more conflicted than ever but knew he needed to get answers from Grace. Ada confirmed you had never been alone with Grace, never even went to the kitchen. Then he spoke to Polly who also had never seen you leave Ada's side. Now Polly was beginning to demand he find out if they had been wrong all along, if her niece had been sacrificed for familiy unity. Michael had been chipping away at her beliefs for awhile now and this seemed to confirm it.

That night, Tommy sat Grace down, determined to find out the truth. After a lot of obfuscation and denial it all came out. She'd been feeling guilty for some time now whenever she saw how heartbroken and torn her husband was, but she was petrified he'd love his son less than his sister, and with her standing in the family being only strong because of Tommy's love for her and Charlie, she panicked and in that panic had thought if she got y/n sent away, Charlie and by extension herself, would always be his top priority.

This saddened him greatly for a multitude of reasons. Her lack of faith in him even though he'd never been the betrayer in their relationship, his poor choices, his cruelty to you, the loss of that bond. It all hurt.

The next day, before heading out on business he demanded a family meeting be held. He made Grace come with him and confess all. She did, because deep down she felt awful that she'd ruined the life of a sweet girl that had never been anything but kind to her. She'd seen the loss of spark in your eyes and couldn't deny any longer how horrible her behavior was. Maybe this could be fixed. At least your relationship with your family, especially Tommy. He missed you deeply and maybe the memories of all the years he'd loved and taken care of you could combat the time he'd spent alienating and breaking your heart.

The family was horrified but not shocked. Deeply disappointed in Tommy and themselves they made a plan to begin making it up to you. Tomorrow, after the gala, they'd all individually apologize and set about making things right. Work was cut short so they could all get ready, but at least tonight they'd be knd to you and start treating you like the beloved little sister you'd always been.

Tommy and Grace rode in silence to the gala. Grace didn't know how to bridge the gap and Tommy was lost in thought. Before they got out he turned to her and said "After you apologize to y/n, we can begin fixing us. You're Charlie's mother and I still love you, but you broke my trust and cost me someone precious. So right now, let's just focus on righting the wrongs we both have done." Grace agreed sadly, knowing it would be a long time before she had her husband back, but accepting this as the consequences for her bad decisions.

For you the night was going great! Everyone was suddenly friendly, and even Tommy had a warmth in his eyes at you that you hadn't seen in a long time. Grace had made a point of complimenting you and suddenly everyone wanted to talk to you. It made the night pleasant, but you weren't getting your hopes up. You'd built walls and they weren't coming down because suddenly people treated you like you were family again. You stuck around Ada and Finn.

While everyone had been having epiphanies and making plans to repair relationships today, you'd been doing some thinking of your own. Mostly thinking about how different your life might have looked had you had parents. They maybe would have loved you unconditionally. Maybe your relationship with your brothers, their wives, your aunt would have been better if they hadn't also had to help raise you. For so long, you hadn't felt you were missing anything because you had brothers, a sister, an aunt, and more recently a cousin and sisters-in-law that loved you ahd made you feel protected and like you belonged. As a child you'd had multiple people to go to for love, advice and help, it never occurred to you that that could all be taken away. Even during the war, the letters you got from your brothers and the presence of Finn, Ada and Aunt Polly had always kept you from feeling lonely. Now you knew that could be taken away and now you knew loneliness. Now you felt like the orphan you were.

Tommy was walking away from some duchess when he caught your eye and motioned you over. You went over hesitantly, hoping you weren't about to be chastised for something. As you walked up to him, he was in conversation with Grace about her necklace. Hoping to slip past them without being seen as everyone was moving into the banquet hall to eat, you suddenly heard someone yell out "For Angel!" with a gun in their hand. At once time slowed down and sped up and all you could think of was little Charlie losing his parents and becoming like you. Not even realizing you were moving, suddenly there was a sharp pain in your stomach and you were falling into another person.

Everything became chaos. Tommy was horror stricken as he held his baby sister's head in his lap while Grace was putting pressure on the wound. He yelled for someone to call an ambulance and kept trying to get your attention, because you were still breathing but staring at the ceiling like you could see someone there.

"Please, y/n, please look at me, stay with me, don't leave me" he begged, running a hand soothingly through your hair as tears streamed down his cheeks, all the while remembering years of time spent together, how you would climb into his bed after the war and just lay beside him when he'd have nightmares, grounding him and reminding him he was home, safe and warm, not in a tunnel, no enemy shovels around.

Grace had one hand putting pressure on your wound, the other holding your hand while she cried as well. She was horrified at what her behavior stole from you, while you had literally saved her life. Thinking back on the sweet little girl back when she was a barmaid, asking her to sing because her voice was "beautiful" Soon she was nudged roughly out of the way by John who took over putting pressure on your wound, tears streaming down his cheeks. His thoughts on the girl he used to throw in the air when she was little, her always trusting he'd catch her.

Arthur was beating the man who had fired the bullet, he couldn't make himself stop. All he could see was you in his arms as a baby, your finger wrapped in his and your eyes looking at him so trusting, and how much he'd let you down by not going against Tommy.

Polly was on the phone getting an ambulance, begging them to hurry, trying to keep herself calm as she remembered all the times when you were little and would hold out your arms, confident you'd get picked up and cuddled, she could almost feel the warmth of your head on her shoulder.

Ada was holding Finn, praying silently for her sister, most recently at an age where she was fun to shop with, try on clothes together, the girl who would confide in her because she trusted Ada's judgement and knew she was safe to be herself with her.

Michael stood at the door waiting for the ambulance, doing his best not to cry, thinking of his cousin who, even feeling alone and rejected by almost everyone, would listen as he spoke about his girlfriend, and who would joke around with him while doing homework.

Esme and Linda stood by Grace, quietly crying, both thinking of how welcoming and sweet you'd been when they were introduced to the family. Esme knowing no one and yet you immediately treated her like a sister, helping with the kids and softening some of Polly's harshness during the London expansion. Linda wishing she'd gotten to know you better, but remembering how you'd hugged her when she and Arthur got married and said how you knew she'd make him happy and help him find peace.

Regret and sorrow ran so powerfully through the large ballroom it felt like they were a physical presence.

[zablife]

One Way or Another

Summary: When your brother Bonnie warns you about the darkness lurking beneath Tommy Shelby’s charming exterior, you heed his advice and break up. However, a vengeful Tommy vows to get you back and his ruthless tactics are worse than you could have imagined. 

Author's Note: Requested by a lovely anon who wanted to see dark!Tommy manipulate a reader into staying with him using Charlie as leverage. 

Warnings: language, dark!Tommy, manipulative behavior, allusion to non con (no graphic description), assault, discussion of pregnancy and adoption

You'd noticed the handsome, blue-eyed man the moment you and your family arrived in Small Heath. Intrigued by the mystery surrounding his enormous wealth and influence, you disobeyed your father's orders and began sneaking into town to catch a glimpse of Mr. Thomas Shelby. He soon took note of you as well, lavishing attention and gifts on you.

You even met his son Charlie a few times in his father's office. Giving voices to the toy horses and soldiers he would bring, the chubby toddler would laugh and grasp at your cheeks. You loved his laughter and often wished he was your own child. "You're a natural, sweetheart,” Tommy praised with a wide grin, which made you anxious for something more with him. You found yourself daydreaming about becoming Mrs. Shelby and giving him another baby.

Tommy wasn’t shy about expressing his own desire to you. A bottle of whisky and a sour mood had led him to confess that Charlie was not his son. He claimed it was an error in his judgement of character that would not happen again. This time he wanted things done in the proper way with the right woman, he said. You’d melted on the spot when he took your head between his large palms and kissed you full. His advances would escalate in the following meetings as he learned of your purity, more enamored with you than ever. You knew it was only a matter of time before he proposed to make you his completely.

However, someone in camp must have taken note of your frequent visits to Shelby properties because word quickly got back to your brother, Bonnie. "Y/n, what are you doing with him? He's not good for ya," he said furrowing his brow in concern.

"What do you mean, Bon?" you asked curiously.

“Don’t you know? You must,” he insisted, underestimating your youthful naivete. 

"He's the leader of the Peaky Blinders, Y/n. He's responsible for cuttings and beatings…murders. No one is safe round him. Not even you," he warned ominously.

"Surely not," you said, shaking your head in disbelief. Tommy was an upstanding businessman, or so you thought.

"Y/n, please listen to me," your older brother begged, sliding closer to you. "I wasn't supposed to tell you,” he said in a low, conspiratorial tone, “but Da and I are here to kill his enemies. And there's a long list. You don't want anything to do with Tommy Shelby, trust me," he stressed twisting his cap in his hands. 

After a lengthy conversation about everything he knew, including the murder of Tommy’s first wife, you were shaking with fear. Bonnie wasn’t easily spooked and it bothered you to see him this upset. “Alright, I'll keep my distance," you agreed, witnessing his agitation.

Bonnie sighed with relief, but you noted an apologetic tinge to his voice when he said, "I only want to keep you safe.”

You reached for his hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. "I know," you assured him and he relaxed back into his chair.

True to your word, you broke things off with Tommy the next day. You tried to be careful, explaining it in every conceivable way except the real reason. In your usual self effacing manner you babbled away to ease your nerves. "I'm much too young for you, Tommy. You'll get bored of me and everything I don't know. Surely you want someone more...experienced," you blushed.

Although he seemed to listen intently without judgment, inwardly he was fuming. It was your omission that told him everything he needed to know. Someone close to you had warned you off and he was certain it was your father or brother, perhaps both.

As you left his office that day, Tommy began plotting to get you back. Preferably in a manner that would punish you and your family. He would win you one way or another. Gambling was his livelihood after all and the odds were always in his favor.

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

Two weeks later...

You heard Tommy's footsteps thudding on the stairs behind you, slowly and methodically. The rhythm pounded inside your skull like a drum, driving you to the brink of hysteria and quickening your own steps. He was frighteningly calm despite your obvious distress as though he enjoyed humiliating you. 

"Come back to bed, love," he urged in a saccharine voice that turned your stomach.  

Your body shivered in reply as you headed toward the sitting room in search of your coat. Blinking back the tears at your lash line and biting your tongue until it bled, you promised yourself you wouldn't let him see you cry. It had been the same tactic you used that morning when your father admitted he'd gambled away your innocence in a scrap metal yard when Tommy goaded him into a coin toss.

"You're going to allow this?" Bonnie yelled at your father, pacing the floor in anxious rage reserved for fight days. 

Placing yourself between him and the two blinders who had come to collect you, you mumbled, “I'll be alright.” It was a meager attempt to convince him and yourself. Turning to your father you asked, “It’s only one night?”

Watching from the corner of the room, deathly still, your father replied "I hope so." But his eyes were wide and filled with terror, the likes of which you'd never seen. 

A harsh tug on your elbow startled you out of yourself as Tommy towered over you. "Where do you think you're going, eh?" he asked tightening his grip, all attempts at gentle tactics now vanished.

"I'd like to go home to my family," you choked out desperately, fingers ghosting over his in a vain attempt to soften his grasp. If he held any affection for you, perhaps he would allow you to leave with a shred of dignity.

He smirked wickedly at your cowering form, “I don’t think you understand, love. This is your home now." Tucking your disheveled hair behind your ear to reveal a bite mark on your shoulder he added, "We're just getting started, you and I." His thumb traced a dark bruise forming higher up on your neck and you winced as he pressed into it. He placed a kiss to your lips and murmured against you, “Going to tell me how much you loved having me inside you, filling you up?” 

His nose brushed against yours as you pulled away. Taking a deep breath, you attempted to steady your voice. “Tommy, how can you expect me to stay after you hurt me like that?” you asked, eyes burning with tears as you relived the pain inflicted on your body and heart as you realized he’d never meant a word he said to you when you were courting.

“Everyone’s first time is like that, sweetheart. It couldn’t be helped,” he replied, caressing your cheek. You felt the bile rising in your throat as you thought of how rough he’d been, holding you down and rutting into you like an animal without any regard for your comfort. 

Mustering all your courage you asserted, “I don’t want it like that ever again.”

Tommy chuckled, “Every woman says that until she wants a baby. Then you'll be begging for it.”

You shook your head as you spat, “I don’t want a family with you.”

His eyes narrowed, large hand sliding down over your midsection as he tsked, “A bit late for that. You might already be carrying my child. What will you do then?” he asked with raised eyebrow.

“I don’t know, but I wouldn’t ask anything of you and I don't want..."

"I don't give a fuck what you want," he interrupted, eyes blazing with fury. "You belong to me,” he hissed, hand snaking down to your throat. 

“I'll never be yours!” you shouted, fighting against him. You were paralyzed by the feeling of your airway constricting under his crushing grip, reducing you to pathetic whimpers. He squeezed until your lungs burned from lack of oxygen, your fingertips scrabbling for his wrist and clawing uselessly. 

Leaning to whisper into the shell of your ear, hot breath fanned over you along with his terrifying words, “You don’t want to make things worse now, do you?”

Just as your vision turned dark, he relinquished you and you fell to the floor gasping for breath. Between coughing fits, you became aware of the housekeeper, Mary, standing in the room. When Tommy had summoned her you weren’t sure. Perhaps you had lost consciousness at some point because she stood with Charlie in her arms and the ringing in your ears soon turned to shrill crying. 

“Ch-Charlie?” you asked, reaching for the child with a hint of a smile in hopes of cheering him.The brightness returning to your eyes told Tommy all he needed to know. With clenched jaw, he  jerked his chin and Mary left the room as quickly as she had appeared. “What’s she doing?” you mumbled, attempting to stand despite the fuzzy feeling swimming inside your head.

Tommy didn’t answer, pretending as though he hadn’t heard you. He picked up the phone, adopting a business like tone, and began, “Good evening, put me through to Sister Agatha.” 

You could still hear Charlie’s desperate sobs echoing down the corridor as Tommy greeted the woman on the other end of the line. Standing on wobbly legs, you hesitated with uncertainty, wishing to comfort the boy. However, your attention was brought back to the cruel words you overheard next. Your jaw dropped as you heard Tommy proclaim, “Send someone to collect the child tonight.”

You scrambled toward him, a look of horror crossing your face. “What have you done?”

Tommy stood like a brick wall, cold and impenetrable. “What necessity dictates, my darling.”

“I d-don’t understand,” you stuttered in confusion, unable to think clearly while being tormented by Charlie's unending screams. Finally you begged softly, "May I hold him? He's upset." You stared at Tommy's stone like features, wondering how he could be so heartless toward a baby.

Taking his time to light a cigarette and toss the match into the fireplace, Tommy smoked quietly for a few moments before ushering Mary back into the room. He took Charlie from her and placed the toddler in your trembling arms. Within a few minutes the boy settled, his chubby cheek resting upon your shoulder. As your hand caressed his golden curls, his cries turned to quiet hiccups and you felt the gentle motion of his thumb sucking before his limbs grew heavy with sleep.

“Tommy, what’s going on?” you pleaded as fresh tears slid down your cheeks. “Why are you behaving this way?”

Tommy stalked to you in three long strides, forcing your chin to meet his gaze. Icy blue stare cutting into you sharply, he scolded, “You’re the one forcing me to do these things.”

You tried to shake your head in adamant denial, but his harsh grip kept you in place. Through pinched cheeks you sputtered, “I never told you…”

“But you did,” he bit back. “Weren’t you the one saying you wanted to leave? That you didn’t want a family with me?” He threw your chin away in disgust as your brain reeled.

“You’re twisting my words…” you protested, voice cracking with emotion. Looking down at the sleeping child in your arms you began, “Of course I didn't mean Charlie..."

Just then a knock came at the door, followed by two nuns announcing themselves as representatives of St. Hilda’s. You backed into a corner, holding Charlie to your body protectively, heart beating wildly as you thought of a way to save him.

“What a darling little boy," one of the nuns chirped despite the late hour. Then she added carefully, "May I take him now?”

Tommy caught your eyes from across the room, “Go on, sweetheart,” he urged. “Unless you’ve changed your mind?” 

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

Tag List:

@peakyswritings

@evita-shelby

@shelbydelrey

@alanadetigy

@severewobblerlightdragon

@lovemissyhoneybee

@theshelbyslimited

@kittycatcait219

@callsign-fangirl

@notyour-valentine

@areyenotfondofmelobster

@polishcrazyone

@elenavampire21

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@dandelionprints

@l1-l4

@rangerelik

@babayaga67

@runnning-outof-time

@brummiereader

@cillmequick

@call-sign-shark

[peakyswritings]

Lullaby || Tommy Shelby x reader

Summary: It’s been almost a year since (Y/n) has started to work as Charlie’s nanny. For the first time, she finds herself in the position of breaking one of her boss’ rules, but his reaction might not be what she was expecting.

Warnings: mentions of death, age-gap (it’s not specified, I imagine (Y/n) to be in her 20s).

A/N: this is a mix of two requests by anonymous. I changed them a little bit to make them fit another thing I was already planning to write. I hope you like it🤍 Also, I couldn’t restrain myself from using Once Upon a December from Anastasia as the lullaby (Y/n) sings.

Word count: 1.4K

MASTERLIST

Dividers credit

“C’mon, Charlie.” (Y/n) whispered with a soft voice, gently rocking the three-year-old. “It’s late, you need to sleep.”

Despite all her efforts, the child seemed to have no intention of going back to sleep. His cries resounded in the silence of the night, desperate, probably caused by a nightmare. It wasn’t the first time he woke up in the middle of the night, and surely it wouldn’t be the last. It was quite a common occurrence, but there was nothing surprising about that. At such a young age, Charlie Shelby had already been through so much pain.

(Y/n) had been Charlie’s nanny for almost a year now. She had moved to Arrow House shortly after the late Mrs Shelby, Charlie’s mother, had died under tragic circumstances. As for her boss, Thomas Shelby, she rarely saw him. He didn’t spend much time at home, and when he did, he locked himself in his study until it was time to go out again. Everyone could see that the man was still grieving, that the guilt of his wife’s death was eating at him day by day. And Grace Shelby was everywhere in that house. In the portraits, in the photographs, in the very air the people who lived there breathed. It was as if her ghost was still lingering inside those walls, restless.

Truth was, some part of (Y/n) was glad she didn’t have to see Mr Shelby too often. His cold eyes gave her chills, and she always felt small under his expectant stare. It felt like he could read right through people. But she couldn’t complain, because despite his exterior harshness and his coolness, he was kind to her. She figured the reason why was that Charlie had become fond of her right away, just like she had become fond of him.

On the other side, Thomas Shelby piqued her curiosity. He was a peculiar man, she had never met someone who even remotely resembled him. She knew who he was, what his family did, and before meeting him she was expecting to find herself in front of someone entirely different. When after putting an ad in the papers she received his secretary’s call, she had considered refusing. But the pay was good, and she needed to get out of her house, to be independent, and the general terms of her contract were to good to be ignored. So she mustered up the courage and attended the interview, and to this day, she could say she made the right decision. Charlie was lovely, the staff was friendly, and she felt relatively safe in a house surrounded by men who protected it night and day.

(Y/n) sighed, glancing at the clock on the wall. It was three in the morning. She had been trying to get Charlie to sleep for over an hour, but nothing seemed to work. She had tried everything: she had cradled him, given him water, she had even taken him to take a breath of fresh air in the garden for a while. It was all useless. There was just one thing she hadn’t tried, she hadn’t dared try, for if her boss found out he would probably fire her for breaking his rules. It was the first thing people would do to help a child fall asleep, and yet it was not allowed at Arrow House. Because Mr Shelby didn’t allow singing. But she was running out of options, and her boss was still out.

Just one song. One lullaby wouldn’t hurt anyone.

She hesitated, sending a look at the door of Charlie’s bedroom, then she quietly started to chant the lullaby her grandmother used to sing to her when she was a child.

“Dancing bears

Painted wings

Things I almost remember

And a song someone sings

Once upon a December”

Tommy closed the front door behind him, exhaling a deep breath. Another long day was over. However, not even the comfort of being home was enough to lift the weight pressing on his shoulders. Not anymore. It was always there, pushing down on him, waiting for him to bend, or to break. But he had to keep on marching, relentlessly, pretending that the burden wasn’t there.

He took off his coat and hanged it, trying to be as silent as possible in order not to wake the whole house up at that hour. As he walked further into the dark parlour, Charlie’s loud cries came to his ears. He was having troubles sleeping, again.

He made his way towards the stairway, squinting his eyes in the semi-darkness to see better, when something caught his attention. It was a voice, a soft, soothing voice singing a song upstairs.

Someone holds me safe and warm

Horses prance through a silver storm

Figures dancing gracefully across my memory

Tommy began walking up the stairs, step after step, drawn by the beautiful sound. He knew who that voice belonged to. (Y/n) was disobeying his orders, yet he couldn’t bring himself to be angry, far too fascinated. Soon Charlie’s cries faded, and the only thing that could be heard was her enchanting voice.

Far away

Long ago

Glowing dim as an ember

That hauntingly beautiful lullaby brought him back to over a year ago, when his late wife’s voice used to reverberate through the walls. Ever since her death, the silence had been haunting him, only broken by the echo she left behind.

Things my heart

Used to know

Things it yearns to remember

Tears welled up in Tommy’s eyes, but he was quick to push them back. He stopped at the entrance of is Charlie’s bedroom, watching as (Y/n) tenderly held the child in her arms, unaware of his presence. His son had finally fallen asleep, and the peaceful expression on his face reflected how safe he was feeling.

“And a song someone sings

Once upon a December”

She finished her song, and there was silence again. She placed Charlie back on the soft mattress and tucked him in, careful not to wake him up again. When she turned to leave the room, causing their eyes to meet, fear dawned on her young features. It was clear she wasn’t expecting to find him there. For a few seconds, neither of them did nor said anything. Then, as if remembering where she was, (Y/n) slowly exited the room, closing the door behind her. Her arm accidentally brushed against him in the process, the contact almost burning through his shirt. As they stood face to face in the hallway, she avoided his gaze, probably waiting for him to scold her, or fire her, or something worse. And a question popped into Tommy’s mind. Was she that scared of him?

(Y/n)’s heart was racing inside her chest as her boss’s unreadable gaze rested on her. She had never found herself in the position to fear him, nor had she ever had a reason to, but she had never broke any rule before, or crossed any line. And she had no idea how he would react to disobedience. The last thing she wanted was to get on the gangster’s bad side.

“It was a nice song.” His low voice pulled her out of her thoughts, making her gulp. Suddenly, she realised how close they were.

“Mr Shelby, I…” she stuttered, taking a step back. “I’m sorry.” She whispered, shifting her eyes on the ground, finding it way more comfortable to face him without having to look at his impassive expression. “It’s just… nothing was working, and…” she started to ramble, but the words got stuck in her throat. “It won’t happen again.”

Tommy didn’t say anything. He just looked at her, studying her, and his calmness made her even more nervous, for it made him unpredictable. Then something changed in his eyes. His features softened, and she could swear his lips curved into a small smile. “Go to sleep, (Y/n).”

She opened her mouth to say something, but closed it right away. He wasn’t angry? He wasn’t going to fire her? Was it an emotion, the one that had just broken through his ever-unfazed face? She blinked, trying to recollect herself, deciding that it would be better to listen to him before he changed his mind.

“Goodnight, Mr Shelby.” She politely said, before walking past him to go to her room.

“(Y/n).” He called her, making her stop in her tracks. She turned around, her nervousness coming back again as she waited for him to speak.

“You’re allowed to sing, if you want.”

Tag list: @iamngoclinh08 @lilywinchesterlove @fandom-puff @capitanostella @caelys @lucillethings @peakyxtommy @queenofkings1212 @lyarr24 @kmc1989 @call-sign-shark @jomarch-wannabe

Tommy Shelby tag list: @50svibes

[jm-2406]

Summary - Tommy Shelby has been slowly drifting away from his only son after losing his wife. You are a nurse specialising in children's wards. When Frances comes running to the hospital with little Charlie in her arms, you decide to give a piece of mind to the bigshot gangster.

Words - 1.5k

Note - this is silly. I wrote it in less than one hour. It features an OOC Tommy Shelby and a daring reader who doesn't fear him like others.

Tommy Shelby, MP OBE was not used to getting calls between meetings, especially from his loyal housekeeper who knew when not to bother him. He was busy dealing with some important people, drowning himself in work like he usually did after Grace passed away. It was not that he didn't care for his son but sometimes looking at him was too difficult for him, the little boy had so much of Grace in him. So imagine his surprise when instead of Frances it was someone else on the other side of the telephone.

"Mr Shelby, I'm not Frances. My name is (Y/N) and I'd like to let you know that your son is not well. You should come as soon as possible to the hospital." You informed him without any hesitation, the concern for Charlie made your nervousness take a back seat plus not looking directly at his blue eyes also helped in retaining your confidence.

"What happened to him?" His lazy drawl came as a reply. "Well if you insist…" You tried to stall, tried to get under his skin so that he'd come to see his son but his silence made you speak up. "Mr. Shelby, I understand that you are grieving but so is your son. He was having a nightmare and needed someone to hold him close, to soothe him. I'd say he needed his father, not his nanny or Frances. Help yourself and your son by being there for him." Without thinking about the consequences, you pour your heart out and immediately hang up.

• • •

It has been a few days since the incident. You were worrying about Charlie and went to meet him directly at 'Arrow House'. [Yes, you are daring and a risk taker]. You knocked gently, arranging the basket of freshly baked cookies for the three-year-old cherub in your arms.

"Who are you?" A deep male voice caught your attention. Looking up, your breath got caught in your throat. Standing in front of you was the man of the house himself, Thomas Shelby. "What are you doing here?" You questioned foolishly instead. In your defence, you did not know that he'd be home at eleven o'clock since it was a Tuesday. He merely raised his eyebrow at your remark.

“If you didn't know Miss, this is my house. I live here.” Your cheeks reddened and you turned around to escape when a high-pitched voice stopped you. "(Y/N)" shouted Charlie. "Call her inside daddy. She's my friend." He said - more like ordered - his father who complied with a small "as you say, son." You felt a sense of comfort seeing the father and son interacting almost normally after that phone call incident.

Nervously, you stepped inside and Frances immediately took your coat as well as the basket of cookies. Charlie ran inside to get his colouring pages and asked you to wait for him. You were looking here and there, avoiding the dark-haired man but he had other plans.

"Thank you," Tommy said. You furrowed your brows in confusion. He cleared his throat and elaborated. "For making me realise that I was unknowingly neglecting my son, pushing him away from me. I love him, I really do. Thank you for making us come closer." He was not a man of words, especially praises but something about you got him talking, was it your kind nature, your non-judgemental eyes or your stern yet concerned voice when you called him that day that made him open up to you, he didn't know… but that is a topic for later.

"You're welcome, Mr Shelby. Charles is a sweet boy. I wish well for him." You blushed, no one had said such kind words to you. "How about you join us for dinner? Charlie would like that." Tommy said unexpectedly. Just as you were about to deny it, considering it rude to intrude, Charlie came running to you asking you to stay and colour with him. You couldn't say no to that adorable face.

And that's how you spent the evening, laughing and enjoying the company of two Shelby men, happier than ever.

• • •

[PART - 2]

It has been almost half a year since that evening you spent in the company of the Shelby men and you couldn't help but feel lucky. Everything went uphill after that, luckily.

You found out that you and Tommy had a lot in common which was surprising in itself. You both were mostly emotionally detached but were willing to cross any line if it meant saving your family, you both liked to read though Tommy was secretive about it for reasons you still didn't know, and nothing could surpass the love you had for horses, those strong yet gentle beasts were the only faithful friend you had… except for each other.

While your thoughts started to roam in dangerous territory, you were still unsure of Tommy's feelings on the matter. You have heard that the man was ruthless and incapable of feeling affection but you saw a side of him that was hidden from the world, his gentle and loving sight, his respectful side… you were certain that what you felt for him may not be love but it wasn't anything less. You decided to ignore this newfound feeling, unsure of what he felt.

The sudden knock on your door pulled you out of your thoughts. "What-?" You were confused about finding a drunk Tommy Shelby on your doorstep. "(Y/N) How are you my angel?" He continued to stare at you making you realise that this was an actual question and not a rhetorical one. "I - uhh - I am fine Tommy. What are you doing here at midnight?" You pulled him inside.

The sight of a drunk Tommy Shelby lying on your cheap broken sofa with the bottle of Irish whiskey clasped in his hand was unusually tempting and soft, as he gazed up at you with his bright blue eyes.

"Charlie loves you (Y/N). Did you know he was calling for you earlier today?" He whispered and gulped the remaining of the whiskey immediately after.

"No Tommy. I am sorry. I was busy today." Your heart broke hearing about the little boy calling for you and not finding you by his side. "Yeah. Being a lifesaver is not easy, eh?" He said rhetorically this time, placing his hands on your waist. The cool of his hands seeping through the thin material of your nightgown.

"I asked him to be a well-behaved little boy and I'll bring you to him… maybe permanently what say?"

You gasped hearing his words, not knowing what he was suggesting. "Tommy… you're drunk. We'll talk about it in the morning if you still remember what you said." You pushed him to your bedroom, tucking him in like you'd do for Charlie. taking the spare pillow and blanket, you laid down on the sofa.

• • •

"You alright Mr Shelby?" You asked giving him a painkiller. He looked at you with wide eyes, just like Charlie would… The resemblance between them always melted your heart.

He cleared his throat before addressing you. "(Y/N) about last night - uhh - I meant what - what I said." You gawked at him, The Tommy Shelby stuttering in front of you. You were definitely special to him.

"I - you mean - what exactly did you mean by 'permanently' last night?" Your cheeks reddened, little hair on your neck stood as you awaited his answer.

"I didn't plan for this to happen so spontaneously but we gotta do what we gotta do right?" He paused and you held your breath for his next words. "I'm not good with words so beware. Miss (Y/N) (Y/L/N) I am grateful for your help in more than one of my life problems. My son loves you and calls out for you all the time, I adore you and your strength. Will you do the honour of making me the luckiest man in Birmingham by marrying me?" Tommy pulled out a small jewellery box from his coat pocket and held before you a simple but elegant and beautiful princess-cut diamond ring.

You sobbed. "Is that even a question?" You nodded, unable to speak as he placed the ring on your finger. You jumped up, unable to control your excitement and hugged him with all your might. And for the first time in many years, Tommy Shelby was finally feeling peace. He felt a wave of hope… for himself and your future together.

• • •

[the-girl-lost-in-fandoms]

tagged by @agentofchaosx thank uuuu!!

Rules: Shuffle your "On Repeat" playlist and post the first 10 songs, then tag 10 friends!

Rush - Troye Sivan

I Think We're Alone Now - Tiffany

Pink Pony Club - Chappell Roan

Good Luck, Babe! - Chappell Roan

Sharks - Imagine Dragons

Talk Fast - 5 Seconds of Summer

De Shelby (Part 2) - Hozier

Guess - Charli xcx, Billie Eilish

so american - Olivia Rodrigo

Where Did The Party Go - Fall Out Boy

@dontknowanythingohwell @rinoune42 @thecommonmold @froginabogg @thenerdybard @soupdrinkinglincoln @snailsandstrawberries @absolutefilthimsosorry @denizoid @thatskeletonbitch if you guys want, or not tagged people please join in if you want to do it!

[lillyspeakz]

bubble baths with Wilbur? Headcannons or fic whatever you prefer.

I need this desperately.

-

- it was a rough day for both of you. Wilbur had been stuck in the studio all day and you had been bossed around and criticized for simple little things. To say that you both needed something to relax and forget about today is an understatement.

- wil was home before you, having found him face down on the bed, eyes closed as he almost drifted off into sleep but being graciously awakened by the sound of the door closing and your footsteps traveling closer to the bedroom.

- he could see it in your eyes. You were tired and annoyed, and you just wanted to rest. So did he. He sent you a small smile as he sighed and stood up, reaching his arms out for you to come into. You wrapped your arms around his waist as he held the back of your head in his hand and rubbed your back with the other.

“Shh I know, don’t think about what happened today ok. You don’t have to tell me either. Wanna take a bath?” His words came out slurred, sleep tight on his tail as you nodded and dragged him into the bathroom.

- you and Wilbur had made it a routine for bubbles to always be in your baths, no matter how childish people deemed it, it was nice and cozy. You and Wilbur both enjoyed playing with the bubbles or even just lying in it and letting your body release all your tension in the warmth. It added to the domestic mood, along with the candles you had added to the bathroom.

- Wilbur always went in first, so you could sit in between his legs and so he could position his lengthy body correctly so it was comfortable. He’d also help you undress, knowing you didn’t like all the effort you had to put in taking everything off.

- Wilbur also likes to make a fake beard out of soap on your face, finding it funny at how you look at him after the fact, your face all grumpy and trying to be angry yet a smile slips out anyways as you try to kiss him with your new beard.

- Even if you guys are tired, you try to make the most out of the situation, never really getting to do it a lot anymore with the schedule conflicts. Though when times do get tough and you are tired, let’s say you’ve take more naps in the bath with Wilbur than anywhere else.

taglist: @ivvees-blog @horny-p0et

[acewritesfics]

The Neighbour's Cat | Tommy Shelby

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x Reader

Request: from @rainydayteacups

Fic Type: Imagine

Warnings: Swearing. Fluff overload. Soft Tommy. I guess you could say pre-war Tommy but I didn’t really mention it.

Word Count: 1,564

TOMMY SHELBY MASTERLIST || TAG LIST SIGN-UP

⚠️ THIS IS A REPOST FROM MY MAIN BLOG @/DLMLUFICS. UNFORTUNATELY, I HAVE TO DO IT THIS WAY. MORE INFO IN MY PINNED POST.

“Did you hear that?” Ada asks after a loud thud came from out in the backyard.   

“It might be the neighbour's cat,” Y/N replies. The grey tabby is often in her small backyard, making himself comfortable in one of her flowerpots as he slept. She no longer had flowers growing in the one he took a liking too. “He often comes into the yard.”  

She goes to pour herself another glass of the wine that Polly had swiped from the Garrison when she sees movement outside the window. Recognising the familiar hair cut she stands up from the table. "I'll be right back. I need to make sure the cat hasn't gotten into anything it shouldn't have."  

"But it's dark outside, what could it possibly get into?" Ada whines, lifting her glass to her lips.  

"You'd be surprised," Y/N mumbles and makes her way to the back door and slips outside, looking into the darkness of the night for a person sneaking around the back of her home. "Tommy?" she whispers loudly unsure if it was him, she'd seen.   

As Tommy moves in front of her, a hand clasped gently over her mouth as he holds a finger to his lips, telling her to be quiet.   

"Come with me," he speaks barely above a whisper, the hand covering her mouth moving to take her hand in his and leads her away from the back yard and into the street.  

“Tommy, I can’t just leave,” she protests but makes no real effort to break away from him and go back inside. “Where are the others?”  

“Back at the Garrison,” he informs her. “And who says we can’t sneak off to spend the night before our wedding together?” 

“It’s tradition,” she sighs knowing the women currently in her kitchen will have her head once they realize she’s disappeared.  

“Fuck tradition,” he scoffs as he slows his walk now that their getting further from the house. “Since when have we been ones to follow tradition, eh?” 

“I guess you have a point,” she smiles. 

“We’ll start our own tradition,” he announces, his voice echoing through the empty street as he walks ahead of her lighting his cigarette and turning to face her while walking backwards. “Our future generations will spend the eve of their wedding together instead of apart because we did it first.” 

Not realizing he’s about to step off the curb, he stumbles backwards causing Y/N to gasp as scrambles forward to try stop him from falling. He steadies himself before he can topple backwards. “I’m fine, love.” 

She shakes her head with a chuckle as his hands reach for her hips and pulls her closer. “So, what do you say?” 

“I say, I’m the luckiest woman in all of England, maybe even the whole world,” she smiles. “Let’s make our own traditions.” 

He smiles, kissing her, before taking her hand again and leading her further from her home. 

Arriving at Charlie’s Yard, Tommy helps her through the gate and towards the stables. Y/N looks around apprehensively, unsure if they should be there. It's been a long time since they snuck into the yard of the man who's like an uncle to the Shelby siblings. Last time they did it, they'd been caught. Charlie had almost fired Tommy from his job as punishment, but Tommy promised never to do it again. Until now.  

"Tom, are we allowed to be here?" she questions him, even though she has a feeling she already knows the answer as they walk into the makeshift stable.  

"I cleared it with Charlie," he informs her, surprising her a little. 

"But Charlie's at the Garrison with the rest of the blokes," she says, realization hitting her. "He was in on this plan of yours." 

"He tried to talk me out of it," he tells her.  

"But of course, Tommy Shelby gets his way," she teases. 

"I convinced you to marry me, didn't I?" he asks, a smug smile on his pouted lips.  

"It didn't take much convincing," she smiles.  

"We first met here," he reminds her. "You were tending to one of the horses Curly was working with." 

"Moonlight," she smiles remembering the day well.  

She came to Birmingham two years ago to visit her cousin, Curly, and look for work, having been fired from her last job for no good reason. Curly talked to Charlie about hiring her, claiming he needed a hand with the horses. Charlie hired her after Curly gave him his word about Y/N being a hard worker and almost as good with horses as he was.  

She was three days into her job when she crossed paths with Tommy. She was grooming Moonlight, a black stallion with a diamond shaped patch of white on his forehead. Moonlight just so happened to be one of the horses Tommy saved from a man who was about to put the beautiful boy down, because he was sick, and he couldn't afford to get him well again. Curly had nursed him back to health within a few weeks. Y/N had bonded with him so much that Tommy couldn't bring himself to find him a new home, instead keeping him as a gift for the woman he had fallen so quickly in love with. 

Those few weeks curly was nursing Moonlight back to health, Tommy spent pursuing Y/N, unable to get her from his mind. It took a month before she gave in to his advances and they've been together ever since. And Moonlight is now in a stable on a farm a friend owns, living his life to the fullest. Y/N is out there almost daily attending to him and taking him for rides. Tommy can't wait for the day when he can move Moonlight into their own stables, on property they owned, with as many horses as his wife wants. 

"The first time I saw you, I knew I had to have you in my life," he tells her. "You looked so beautiful, covered in dirt and grime, humming that tune as you ran a brush through Moonlight's mane. He seemed so calm and at peace that I felt it within myself."  

"Oh, Tommy," she coos softly, feeling her heart erupt with all the love she has for him. The fluttering feeling like a kaleidoscope of butterflies was inside her chest. She steps towards him, placing her hand on his face as she looks at him lovingly, her thumb stroking his well-defined cheek.  

"I've felt it ever since that moment," he says, his voice softer. "You bring peace to my chaotic life. It's one of the many reasons why I love you." 

"I love you," is all she's able to say before she pulls him in for passionate kiss, expressing all the love she has for the man who turned her life upside down in the best kind of way.  

Y/N startles awake the next morning when a loud noise comes from outside. Placing her hand on Tommy's bare shoulder, she gently shakes him awake, hearing the rattling of gates being opened.  

"Tommy, we need to leave," she tells him barely above a whisper. 

Groaning, his eyes flutter open and connect with Y/N's eyes. He smiles and reaches behind her head to pull her in for a morning kiss. His other hand travels up her thigh, plays with the hem of his shirt she's wearing before slipping under it to grab her hip to pull her closer.  

"Enough of that you two," The sound of Charlie's voice causes them to part. "You best get out of here before they send a search party. Can't be late to your own wedding." 

He walks away before they could say anything. Standing up, Y/N quickly dresses into her clothes from the previous day as Tommy takes back his shirt and coat.  

"I'll walk you home," he tells her as they leave the stable. They thank Charlie who waves them off with a shake of his head and tells them he'll see them at the ceremony. Hurrying home, Y/N holds onto Tommy's hand tightly, bracing herself for the lecture she's about to encounter.  

Standing on her front doorstep, she turns to face Tommy with a small smile on her lips. "I'm about to get my head bitten off by your aunt and our sisters but last night is worth every second of it."  

"I agree, my love," he smiles also. "I liked that tradition far better." 

"This coming from the man that said a fuck you to traditions," she teases.  

"To traditions that aren't ours," he corrects her.  

"You better get going before Polly sees you," she chuckles and pulls him in for one more kiss before they become man and wife. "I love you." 

"I love you too," he says pulling away from her and stepping back on to the footpath. "Don't be late," he tells her. 

"I'll be the one in white just in case you can't find me," she laughs. 

"I'll always be able to find you," he smiles and turns around, starting his walk to Arthur's house.  

As soon as she opens the door and heads inside, she gulps seeing Polly standing there with her hands on her hips and an angry look on her face. "And where the hell have you been?" 

"The neighbor's cat needed to see me," she replies slipping past her to go to the bathroom. 

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[mischievouslittlecreature]

Part 26: Do You Love Me

Summary: The sudden shift in living arrangements causes Charlie's behavior to take a turn for the worse. 

Word Count: 8,317

Warnings: Smut, suicidal thoughts, kids throwing temper tantrums, infertility, and polyamory.

Notes: Clarification for those just tuning in, Lucy is not Charlie's biological mother (she is unable to have biological children) but Tommy--and Grace, prior to her death--have always treated her as if she was. This chapter was a reasonable length, and then I decided that I needed to add a whole bunch of smut at the end, and I didn't wanna move it to the next chapter. So apologies in advance for the bloated word count!

Previous Chapter • Series • Fic • Next Chapter

Chapter 3: Your Mistakes Loom

“Charlie, could you pick up your toys, please?” 

She said it offhandedly, not even really looking up from the cover of the book she was examining, one hand gripping the wooden ladder she was balancing on so that she could reach the upper shelves of the huge bookcase. 

Arrow House was packed to the gills with books on just about any subject imaginable. Lucy had gorged her mind on many of them. Climbing carefully down the rickety ladder, she tucked her most recent selection under her arm, looking up to find that Charlie hadn’t moved from where he was seated on the sofa, his toys still spread out all over the floor.

“Charlie? Did you not hear me?”

Still no response. Lucy frowned. Things had been tense lately. Charlie was still angry with Tommy over him shooting Dangerous, barely speaking to him at all and spending most of his free time sulking in his room. And then Lizzie’s announcement to Tommy of her and Ruby's departure went over about as well as Lucy had expected it to. There was an awful lot of shouting and insults hurled from either side, and when Lizzie finally left with little Ruby in tow, it was with a slam of the front door that seemed to reverberate throughout the entire house. 

Charlie had grown even more sullen after that. Lucy wasn’t sure how much of the fight he’d actually heard, or what Lizzie had told him before she left. But he clearly was angry with both of them. And missing his step-mum and sister. She tried to find ways to occupy his time or offer him companionship, but her attempts to get him to go out riding or play a game with her had all been met with a glower and cold shoulder, and she’d eventually given up and decided to just leave him alone.    

“Please don’t make me repeat myself, Charlie. Pick up your toys now before someone trips over them, yeah?”

It would only take him all of two minutes to do it. And yet he continued to just sit there, shooting a scowl her way, crossing his arms, and huffing under his breath.

“Charlie–”

“Shut up!” he suddenly shouted, little voice bouncing off the high walls of the room. Jumping off the couch, he stood in the middle of his pile of toys, face turning red. “You can’t tell me what to do! You’re not my mum!”

She flinched back as if he’d hit her, eyes widening. “Charlie–”

“You’re just Dad’s whore! Everybody hates you! Mum says!”

Her jaw dropped open, recoiling even further from him. The boy she’d always thought of as her own stared at her with blazing eyes that were a perfect combination of Tommy and Grace’s, his mouth set in a firm line, little hands balled up into fists at his sides. 

He might as well have reached in between her ribs, and ripped out her heart. 

Lucy’s jaw worked, but no words came out; too shocked to be able to speak. Tears welled in her eyes, lips trembling as she tried to battle them back. 

“Charles Thomas Burgess Shelby!” 

The voice boomed throughout the room, roaring so loud it practically shook the stacks of books erected from the floors and lining the walls. It took Lucy so by surprise that she almost screamed.

And then Tommy was there. Tommy, who unbeknownst to both of them had been standing in the doorway. Tommy, who had heard everyone hurtful word his son had just hurled at her. 

He descended upon Charlie, taking him by the shoulders, looking down at him furiously. Charlie’s eyes had grown big as saucers, shrinking in on himself when faced with his father’s wrath. 

“You do not speak to Lucy like that. Ever. Do you hear me!? Ey?” He leaned in closer when Charlie tried to dodge his gaze. “Do you hear me!?”

“No, Tommy, don’t–” she tried, somehow managing to get the words out around the lump clogging her throat. Shouting at him will only make everything worse.

“No, Lucy! He does not get to say something like that to you without consequences.” He turned back to Charlie. “Apologize, Charlie. Now.”

“No! I want my mum! Why did you let her leave!? Why couldn’t Lucy go away instead!?”

She cringed, drawing deeper into herself, arms clutching in tight to her chest as if they could somehow shield herself from the words Charlie was erupting with. Tommy gaped at him, and she could see shock and horror at his son’s behavior leaking past the anger and protectiveness glimmering in his eyes.  

“Charlie, you don’t understand–” he tried. She could tell that he was working hard to not fully lose control of his temper. To remain calm and rational in the face of Charlie’s outburst. To not explode as he would in response to anyone else who dared speak to her like that. But Charlie wasn’t having any of it. 

“Yes, I do understand!” he stomped his little foot. Under any other circumstances it might’ve been funny. “You shot my horse! You shot my horse and you made my mum and Ruby leave! I hate you too!”

Tommy stared at him for a long moment. Lucy could see the tension standing out in the veins pulsing in his throat. “Go to your room,” he said finally, voice deadly calm. 

“No!” Charlie shouted, tears starting to stream down his cheeks now that he’d gotten all of his anger out. “No! I don’t want to!”

“Go to your room now!” Tommy bellowed, finger pointing towards the door, face contorting. 

Charlie let out a wailing, furious scream, head thrown back to the ceiling, and then raced out the door sobbing, little feet thundering up the stairs. A moment later, they heard the crash of his bedroom door slamming shut.    

Lucy let out a haggard, painful breath, rocking back and forth on her heels. Her chest heaved and her shoulders shuddered, face dropping to bury in her hands. 

“Lucy,” Tommy’s hand touched delicately at her arm just as the first sob managed to make its way past her lips. “Come here, love.” He drew her into his arms, hugging her to his chest and rubbing her back comfortingly while she started to cry. 

Her mind was completely trapped within that one singular moment, replaying it over and over, of her baby boy telling her how much everyone–himself included–despised her.  

“I’m so sorry,” Tommy said. “I don’t know why he would–”

“Why do you think!?” she burst out distraughtly, ripping away from his embrace. “His mother hates me. Who knows what she’s said about me when we aren’t around.” It was only then that she realized she was still holding the book she’d gotten down from the shelf. She set it heavily on one of the end tables by the couch. 

“Lizzie isn’t his mother…”

“Yes, she is, Tommy. She’s the one who’s always here. Who always takes care of him.” Sniffling, she scrubbed at her eyes with the heel of her hand.

“That doesn’t mean–”

“It does to him. And isn’t that all that matters, in the end?”

Trouble, the tortoiseshell cat who had been living at Arrow House since Lucy adopted her after the vendetta, hopped up onto the couch, stretching and meowing at Lucy worriedly. She reached down a hand to stroke her soft black and orange head.

“I’ll talk to him.” Tommy was watching her with worried eyes. Lucy shook her head. 

“Scolding him about it will only make things worse.”

“I won’t scold him. But he can’t talk to you like that.” He took a step towards her, hand resting on her shoulder, thumb rubbing up and down. 

“I promised myself that I would never come between you and your children.”

“You’re not.”

She wasn’t really sure if she believed that. Trouble climbed up onto the armrest of the couch, angling her head in silent request for scratches under her neck that Lucy provided. Purrs rumbled in the small cat’s throat. 

“Lucy,” Tommy moved in a little closer to her. “Don’t…don’t take any of what he said to heart. He’s a kid. He’s just having a tantrum. He doesn’t really mean any of it.”

“Are you sure?”

He raised an eyebrow. “You mean to tell me that you meant everything that you shouted at your mum and dad as a kid?”

She couldn’t really argue with that. Tommy kissed the top of her head. 

“He loves you.”

She nodded, swallowing roughly. Trouble meowed, and she scooped the cat up, holding her like a baby. She purred, snuggling into Lucy’s chest. Tommy lowered a hand to the cat, letting her sniff at his fingertips, waiting for her approval in the form of bumping her head against his palm before he started to pet her.

“He called me a whore,” Lucy whispered. The hand Tommy still had resting on her shoulder tightened. 

“I heard.”

“Do you think Lizzie told him that?”

“I don’t know. I’d like to think that she just said it to someone else and he overhead. But…” he trailed off, then sighed. “She’s never done anything to actively try to turn the kids on you before. Not like that.” 

She nodded. That was what she suspected, too. Lizzie wasn’t that cruel. 

“Either way, she’s apparently forgotten what her previous profession was.” She could hear the edge of building frustration in his voice, and leaned back into him in an attempt to try to quell it. He slipped an arm around her waist, pressing his lips to her temple. 

“You really think that he didn’t mean any of it?” The buddings of insecurity had sprung back up inside her at Charlie’s words, doubt flooding her veins. She often worried that her presence at the house might have a negative effect on the children. A thought that made her feel so awful and guilty that she was half tempted to pack a bag and run far, far away. Or better yet, take a revolver to her head. 

Sometimes she wondered if everyone would be better off if she wasn’t around anymore. 

“He has no reason to.”

“He thinks I’m the reason that his mother is unhappy.”

“I don’t think that’s it.”

“But all that stuff about me leaving instead of Lizzie…”

“He doesn’t understand what’s going on between me and her. Not really. All he knows is that you and I both had arguments with her, and then she and Ruby left and he misses them. That’s why he’s lashing out. He doesn’t actually want you gone. I don’t believe that.”

She closed her eyes, trying to will herself into believing him instead of the cruel voices in her head. “He’s got your temper.”

She felt Tommy’s lips curl up fondly against her hair. “Yeah. We’re fucked once he hits adolescence, aren’t we?”

“Mhm.”

Sighing, he pulled out his pocket watch to take a glance at it. “What do you think? Has it been long enough for him to have calmed down yet?”

“Maybe give it a few more minutes.” 

He nodded, dropping his head to rest against the crook of her neck, laying butterfly soft kisses there. “You’ll see. By tomorrow he’ll have forgotten that the entire bloody thing even fucking happened.”

She huffed out a breathless laugh. “We can only hope so.” 

“It’s not your fault. It’s mine. I’m the one who shot the horse. That’s what he’s really upset about.”

“No; you did the right thing. Dangerous was in pain; it would have been wrong to make him continue on like that.” 

“Yeah. He’ll understand. Someday.”

“Yeah. Someday.” She was deeply aware that they weren’t just talking about the horse.   

Would Charlie ever fully understand? She often had her doubts. Her and Tommy’s arrangement was unconventional, to say the least. Not even some of the Shelbys had ever fully been able to understand or accept it. 

Her eyes raised to sweep around the dim room, landing on a few framed photographs set up on a nearby table. In one of them, Grace was sitting with baby Charlie in her lap. Her head was turned away from the camera, looking instead upon the precious little boy clutched in her arms, cheek dimpling with a smile. Charlie’s eyes danced with joy, lips parted in the smile he was giving to his mother. 

Everyone would have been happier if I was the one who got shot that day at the charity dinner, Lucy thought, sniffling. Charlie would still have his mother. Tommy would still have his wife. They would be happy. 

Her boys; who she loved more than anything in the whole world. All she wanted was for them to be okay. To be happy.   

Trouble meowed at her, head angled up, watching her with those knowing green eyes. Lucy tightened her grip on the cat, holding her tighter to her chest. Tommy’s warm breath ghosted across her neck and shoulder where he was still resting his face against her. Leaning back into him, she closed her eyes against the warm press of her back to his front. 

∗ ∗ ∗ 

Tommy stood in front of Charlie’s door, the dark wood seeming to loom over him forebodingly. He smoothed his hands down his waistcoat. Adjusted his cufflinks. Fiddled with his wedding ring. Well aware that he was stalling. 

He needed to remember to keep his cool, no matter what waited for him on the other side of that door. It was his knee-jerk response to act protectively whenever someone upset Lucy. But yelling or scolding like he did with Polly or Lizzie was unlikely to accomplish much in this situation other than make Charlie more furious with him. 

And, he really didn’t want to yell at his son.

Sighing heavily, he raised his fist, knocking twice against the door. “Charlie?”

No answer.

He opened the door anyway, stepping in and closing it softly behind him. Charlie was curled up on his side in his bed, back to the door. The stuffed horse that he’d had since he was a baby was clutched to his chest. 

Sitting down on the mattress beside him, Tommy folded his hands into his lap, despite wanting to reach out and smooth a palm across his boy’s golden hair. While he did not move or otherwise acknowledge his presence, Charlie’s eyes were open, red-rimmed and puffy from crying. 

“Charles,” he started after taking a deep breath, being mindful to keep his voice calm and soft. “I understand that these past few days have been hard, and that you miss Lizzie and Ruby, but you can’t talk to Lucy like that, mate. You hurt her feelings.”

Charlie didn’t respond, save for a small sniffle.

“Listen, Charlie,” he raised a hand to rest on his shoulder, then thought better of it and let it fall away limply instead. “I know you’re sad about Dangerous. But that’s not Lucy’s fault.” Hate me, he thought. If you have to hate anyone, hate me. But not her. “I miss him too.” 

Charlie began to sniffle again, chin trembling while a few more tears leaked out of his eyes. “He was a good horse.”

“Yeah.” This time, Tommy did rest a hand on Charlie’s head, stroking his soft hair soothingly. “Yeah, he was. But he was in pain, Charlie. And I wasn’t going to let him suffer. That would have been cruel. He didn’t deserve that; not when he’d been such a good horse to us. I know it’s hard to understand, but it was the best thing we could do for him.” He could still hear that final whinny that Dangerous let out as he pulled the trigger, see the way that his body twisted, hear the thud as he struck the hard ground. Just as he could still feel the weight of the gun in his hand, that moment of desperate, endless desire for relief as he raised it to point as his temple, holding it there. Just for a second. 

He could have pulled the trigger. And it would all have been over. No more pain. No more stress. No more unhappiness for those around him who he loved. 

No more Tommy. 

He jammed his eyes shut, trying to banish the thoughts from his mind. “It was a kindness.”

Charlie started to cry harder,  burying his face in the worn material of his plushie. Tommy rubbed up and down on his small back as comfortingly as he knew how, just letting him get it all out. A good cry was probably what he had needed more than anything else.   

“I know. I know, my boy. It’s alright.” He drew in a rattling breath. “I’m sorry.” So many things he had to apologize for. If he tried to list them all, they’d have been there for an eternity. 

“I didn’t mean to hurt Lucy’s feelings,” Charlie finally said, after his tears had ceased into quiet sniffles. 

“I know you didn’t. But sometimes, we hurt people even when we don’t mean to. She loves you very much, Charlie. She only wants what’s best for you.”

Charlie sat up, rubbing at his eyes and still clutching his toy horse with one hand. “I know.” 

“You’re gonna need to apologize to her. And remind her that you love her.”

“Okay.”

Tommy nodded, a small, relieved sigh leaving his lungs. He tipped his head down to kiss his son’s forehead. Disaster averted, it would seem. 

“Where did you even hear those things that you said to her, ey? ‘Cos I know that you didn’t just come up with them all on your own.” He kept his voice light. Conversational. Easy going, even, so as to not upset him again.  

Charlie hesitated. 

“No one’s in trouble. I just want to know,” Tommy reassured. Charlie eyed him scrutinizingly, then looked down at his hands, fiddling with them in a way that reminded Tommy distinctly of how Lucy often fidgeted with her rings. 

“Mum was talking with Aunt Polly and Aunt Linda in the drawing room. I finished my spelling early, and I was going to ask Mum if I could go out into the stables. I didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but…”

Tommy closed his eyes, jaw tightening. But he pushed the anger down, not wanting Charlie to see it. “It was Lizzie who said it?”

“Yeah.” Charlie looked up at him with big, pleading eyes. “Please don’t be mad at her, Dad.”

A little too late for that, son. Putting an arm around him, Tommy craned his head to look down into his wide eyes. “Charlie…sometimes, Lizzie says things to or about Lucy that hurt her very much. Because she’s upset. Like what you did down there in the library.”

“But I didn’t mean it���”

“I know. And I don’t think that Lizzie often means the things that she says either. But that doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt her, or that it’s okay to say those types of things to her. You understand?”

Charlie considered, then nodded. 

“It upsets me, Charlie, when someone makes Lucy sad. Because I love her.”

“Do you love Mum?”

The question caught him off guard, frowning. Portraits of Grace still lined the walls of Arrow House, photographs of her scattered throughout the various rooms. He’d done all he could to keep her memory alive. To make sure that bits of her lingered with them always.

“Of course, Charlie. I still love and miss your mother very much–”

“No, not Mummy,” Charlie shook his head. “Mum,” he said, with great emphasis on the distinction. “Lizzie. Do you love her?”

Tommy froze. The question pried open a well of guilt inside of him, dark and all consuming. Charlie looked at him expectantly, those eyes that were suddenly almost a perfect reflection of his own staring back at him, assessing. 

How? How did he tell his child that he did not love the woman tasked with raising him?

“You’re really missing her and Ruby, ey?” he asked instead, hoping that Charlie would allow him the reprieve of dodging the question. His son stared up at him for a beat, and Tommy could see him processing the sidestepping of the inquiry, and the silent admission that came with it. He held his breath, waiting for Charlie to start shouting or crying again. But instead he just looked away, head bowed towards the floor with his legs swinging back and forth where they dangled off the edge of the bed. Tommy thought he caught a glimmer of disappointment, but also an understanding, well beyond Charlie’s years, shimmering in his eyes.

“I guess so.”

Tommy let out a silent, relieved breath, reaching up to stroke Charlie’s hair again. 

“Why did they have to leave?”

He supposed that he shouldn’t be surprised at all these hard to answer questions being lobbed his way. Charlie was getting old enough to be able to comprehend, but not yet fully understand, that his father’s relationship with his wife and concubine was not exactly conventional.

“It’s…complicated, Charlie.”

“Are they coming back?”

“I…” I don’t know. But he couldn’t say that. Not to Charlie, at least. “I hope so.” But it was a hope not born out of missing his wife, but more so for Charlie and Ruby’s sake. He missed his sweet Ruby, with her joyful laugh and her bright eyes, terribly. 

As for Lizzie herself…she was a package deal with Ruby, and–outside of badmouthing his lover within earshot of his children–she was a good, stabilizing figure in Charlie’s life when he and Lucy weren’t home. So he tolerated her.

“Can I come out of my room now?”

Tommy looked at Charlie fondly, reaching down to ruffle his hair. “As long as you apologize to Lucy.”

“I will. Promise.”

“Alright, then.”

He followed Charlie out of his room and down the stairs, hands in his pockets, smiling a little to himself when Cyril came lumbering over to sniff and lick at Charlie’s palm, accompanying him the rest of the way to the library. Lucy wasn’t there, but Charlie’s toys were still scattered all over the floor. Tommy felt a small burst of pride as Charlie knelt down to start gathering them up and putting them neatly away. 

We made a good one, Grace, he thought, glancing over at the photograph of her on the table, a wave of the usual quiet melancholy that he always felt when he thought of her settling over him. Temper tantrums aside, of course. 

There was the soft click of nails on the floor, and then Shadow was sniffing at his trouser leg, the big, black wolfdog wagging his tail when Tommy reached down to stroke his head and give him a few scratches behind the ear. 

“Where did she go, Dad?” Charlie asked, finished with putting away his toys. Tommy cocked his head. 

“Shadow, where’s your mum?” he asked the big black dog. His tail wagging increased. “Go find Mum!”

Shadow made a little overexcited hop, and took off at a prance down the hall. Charlie took off after him.

Shadow led them to the front drawing room, nosing open the door and trotting over to where Lucy was curled up on one of the sofas with Trouble. He flopped down on the floor beside her, eagerly knocking his head against her palm when she lowered it to pet him. The book she had been getting from the library when the whole mess transpired was propped up in her hands.  

Charlie hesitated a moment, looking nervous, glancing back at Tommy with wide eyes. Leaning against the wall by the door, Tommy gave him an encouraging nod. Charlie turned back to Lucy, shuffling forward.

“Lucy?”

She looked up from her book, sliding a bookmark into place and setting it aside when she saw him. “Hey, kiddo.”

Charlie inched closer until he was directly in front of her, fingers fiddling with each other again. “I…” his little brows pinched together, lips pouting. And then he flung his arms around Lucy’s neck, hiding his face away in her shirt. “I’m sorry, Lucy.”

She rested a hand on the top of his head, returning the hug strongly. Tommy felt warm affection for them both stir inside his chest.

“Thank you, Charlie.”

“I didn’t mean it. I was just mad.”

“I know. I know, sweetheart.” Lucy pressed a kiss to the side of his head.

Tommy was about to go to them, when Frances appeared at his side. She glanced at Lucy and Charlie embracing, then leaned in to murmur quietly in his ear so as to not disturb them.

“Mr. Shelby, dinner is ready.”

“Thank you, Frances. We’ll be there in a minute.”

She nodded, and departed the room as quietly as she had entered. Tommy looked back at his son and his lover, crossing the room in a few strides to stand by the sofa. Charlie was still hugging Lucy tightly, and when she looked up to meet Tommy’s gaze, he could see that her eyes were a little glassy. 

“Dinner is ready,” he told her softly, reaching out a hand to pass over her shoulder. She nodded. Charlie didn’t seem to hear him, not loosening his grip around Lucy’s neck, not even when Tommy tousled his hair.   

“Charlie?” Lucy asked, gently smoothing her hand down his back. 

“I love you, Lucy,” he said, in a very small voice. Lucy leaned back, brushing away the few tears that had silently slipped down Charlie’s cheeks with her thumbs. 

“Oh, honey. I love you too.”

Charlie’s bottom lip wobbled. “I’m sorry I made you sad. I didn’t mean it.”

“I know you didn’t, sweet boy. It’s okay.”

He hugged her again, little head coming to rest on her shoulder. Lucy pecked his cheek. He was starting to lose more of the baby fat in his face, features giving way to the cheekbones that Tommy had passed onto him. 

Fuck, he’s getting older, Tommy thought, no small amount of panic interlaced with the words.

“Let’s go to dinner, kiddo, yeah? Some food will make us both feel better, I think,” Lucy encouraged, rubbing his back. Charlie nodded, but didn’t make any movements. She rolled her eyes fondly, and scooped him up into her arms, hoisting him up onto one of her hips like she used to hold him when he was a baby. 

He may have been getting older, but at least he wasn’t at the age yet where he did not welcome being carried. Tommy did not know what he would do when that day came. With either of his children. Holding them in his arms was one of the few joys in life he still had left. 

Ruby should be here, he thought mournfully, the ache of missing his daughter widening within him. And with it, another drop of resentment, to fill the already overflowing bucket that he held towards his wife, dripped in.

“You eating with us?” Lucy asked. Tommy nodded, hand finding the small of her back to help steer her towards the doors that led into the dining hall. It wasn’t an unfounded question. He’d been so busy recently that he often ate at his desk rather than in the dining room. And even then, Lucy usually had to scold him into consuming a few mouthfuls of whatever was on the tray that Frances brought him.

He had work to do. Calls to make. But they could wait until morning, he decided. Right now, he just wanted to spend time with his lover and their child.  

∗ ∗ ∗

He watched Lucy where she was standing at the window. It was dark out, and the expansive grounds of the mansion looked like a great black void surrounding them. They had come down to the sitting room after tucking Charlie into bed. It had made his heart ache with love, watching as Lucy sat down on the mattress with his son, the book he’d selected for her to read to him clutched in her hands while Charlie snuggled into her side. Tommy had stood leaning against the doorway, watching them until Charlie’s eyelids started to droop and Lucy put the book down, slipping out of the bed and kissing him on the forehead. Tommy had stepped forward to do the same, and then they’d flicked off the light and tip-toed out the door.   

Taking a step towards her, he set his glass of whiskey down on the table and wrapped his arms around her waist, tucking his head into the crook of her neck. She smelled sweetly of her rose and vanilla perfume, and he breathed in deep as he pressed a few kisses to her pulse point, drawing the scent eagerly into his lungs.

“Are you alright?” 

She brought one hand up to rest on top of his where he was holding her. “Yeah,” she said, in a voice not all that convincing. He kissed her neck again. 

“Come here.” Taking her by the hand, he pulled her with him to one of the nearby sofas. She let him maneuver her until she was laying on the couch with her head in his lap, his fingers stroking tenderly through her mussed hair while her cheek pressed into his thigh. 

“There you go,” he said when her eyes slipped closed. “Just relax. It’s okay. It’s all worked out.”

“Until there’s a next time.”

“There won’t be a next time.”

“You can’t promise that.”

“I’ll talk to Lizzie.”

She half lifted her head. “No, Tommy–” panic flashed in her eyes, but he urged her to lay back down on him.

“I’m not going to try to pick a fight over it,” he soothed, knowing how guilty she always felt whenever they argued because of her. “But she can’t talk about you like that. At least not when the kids are within earshot. I won’t have her trying to turn them against you.”

“I feel like I deserve it.”

He frowned. “What? Why?”

Her brown eyes looked up at him sadly. “I’m having an affair with her husband.”

“I’m not sure what we’re doing can really be classified as an affair, love.”

“You’re fucking a woman who isn’t your wife. That’s the definition of an affair, Tommy.”

“She gave us her blessing…”

“Did she? I’d say that it’s got to be the most reluctant, begrudging blessing in the whole world, then.”  

He was quiet at that, still frowning down at her. “It’s not your fault that she’s unhappy. She knew what the arrangement between us was going to be like before we got married. She knows I’ll never leave you.”

“She changed her mind about being alright with it…”

“That’s not our problem. We shouldn’t have to upheaval our entire lives together because Lizzie decided to go back on the arrangement the three of us made. We’ve already made plenty of accommodations towards her.” He touched her cheek. “Her happiness is not your responsibility. You’ve done more than enough for her already. It’s up to her if she can figure out a way to live with us or not. And she doesn’t just get to take all her anger about a situation she got herself into out on you. I won’t allow it.” His fingers traced the shape of one of her cheekbones. “I promised I’d protect you from her”

Lucy turned her face to kiss the center of his palm. “What if she decides that she can’t live with us? If she leaves you…”

“Then I’ll deal with it.” With a sigh, he raised a hand to thumb at his brow. “I’ll try to get her to stay. For the kids, if not for anything else. I’d really rather not deal with the mess that a divorce would cause; at least not right now. Not on top of everything else. But if she really is set on leaving…I’m not going to hold her prisoner here.” 

Lucy looked down, index finger tracing over one of the buttons on his shirt. Tommy watched her shrewdly, still noting traces of miserable guilt in her eyes. He felt his heart twist at the sight of it.

“It’ll be okay,” he told her, hoping that she could see the love he had for her reflected in his eyes.

“He was right,” her lips trembled slightly. “Most everyone does hate me.”

“That’s not true.”

“Yes, it is.”

“I don’t.”

“You’re still horribly outnumbered, love.”

His fingers stroked delicately over her hair again. “Arthur doesn’t hate you. Neither does Ada. Or Uncle Charlie, or Curly, or Johnny Dogs, or Aberama, or the kids…there’s lots of people who care about you.”

A shaky breath left her lips, turning her face to hide against his stomach. Tommy put his arms around her, the embrace a little awkward due to their positioning of her laying across his thighs, but they managed. His sweet girl. His best friend. His lover. His Lucy. With her huge heart and her desperation to make everyone else’s lives better and easier even at the expense of her own. She didn’t deserve any of this. 

He wanted to gather her up, pull her into his chest where he could keep her safe and sheltered forever. 

“I love you.” His grip around her tightened, lips pressing to her neck, slowly working their way up to her cheek, brushing only just against her mouth when she turned her head to receive him. “I love you so much.” His body shifted against hers, holding her closer, suddenly desperate to comfort her in the best way that he knew how. “Let me show you.”

Her lips parted to his, hands latching onto his shoulders when he brought his mouth down more firmly on hers. A soft groan left his throat at the first slow stroke of their tongues against each other. Shifting them with a hand on the back of her head and the other at her waist, he pulled her up the couch a little so that her head was laying on the armrest with him hovering over her. 

“Should we go upstairs?” Lucy asked between long, slow kisses.

“No,” he shook his head, hands moving to open the buttons on her shirt. He heard her breath catch as he moved his face to start sucking love bites into her neck. “We have the house all to ourselves, tonight.” 

It was a rare occurrence. Where once they’d been free to fuck almost anywhere they pleased in the big mansion, after his marriage to Lizzie they ended up more often than not relegated to their room. Neither of them were particularly eager to have to face the sour mood that would likely follow if Lizzie caught them entangled together. 

A shudder went through Tommy, momentarily thrilled at the thought of being able to have her out in the open like this. His want for her was building steadily, trousers growing uncomfortably tight, not helped in the slightest when she opened her legs to let him lay in the cradle of her hips. 

Charlie almost always slept like the dead. He wouldn’t be up again tonight. And the staff had already turned in for the evening. There was no risk of them being interrupted. 

Clothes came off, tossed carelessly to the floor while they continued to kiss over and over again. Tommy’s hands threaded through her hair, feeling the soft red strands twine around his fingers, as if trying to cling to him as tightly as she was gripping his back and shoulders.  

“Tommy…” Her hand was on the nape of his neck, pulling his mouth down even more firmly onto hers. 

“Want to make you feel better…” he crooned, slipping a thigh between her legs. A needy sound left him at the slickness his leg was met with and the noise she made at the pressure he was putting on her clit. Her hips started to grind onto him, greedy hands groping at his naked torso, tracing the shapes of his scars and tattoos. He couldn’t help the delighted sound he released when she ran her fingers around the sun rays that circled his left pec, drawing the circles tighter and tighter until she brushed against his nipple.

“Fuck,” she arched her back when his hands moved to cup both her breasts. He gave each globe of flesh a firm squeeze, thumbs stroking over her hardened nipples and lightly pinching them. Her hips jerked, rubbing herself more firmly against his thigh, and he felt his cock throb in response to her wantonness. 

Propping himself up on his hands, he raised himself over her enough so that he could drink in the glories of her body. Soft, delectable curves, with full breasts and round hips, her fair skin covered in an array of freckles and scars and encasing strong, lean muscle. 

He could have stayed there just looking at her for forever. Drinking in her unfathomable beauty. He wanted to worship her. Claim her. Gorge himself on her. Lay himself at her feet and let her do what she pleased with him. Married to Lizzie or not, it was Lucy who he belonged to completely. Always. 

A growling noise sounded from low in his chest, dropping his head and beginning to slowly working kisses down her body. Taking his time lavishing her breasts with his mouth before moving lower. She whined when he had to retract his thigh from between her legs, but quieted when he brought both her legs over his shoulders. Looking up at her through the fringe that had fallen partially into his eyes, a smirk pulled at his lips at the shiver that went through her as he slid his hands up her sensitive thighs, reaching for her wetness. At the first brush against her folds he groaned, finding her already soaked and throbbing for him. 

“Fucking hell, love.” His swollen cock pulsed, aching with the thought of how easily he would be able to slide into her. Lowering his face, he pressed a kiss to her clit, tongue teasing over the sensitive nub before darting out for a taste of her folds. On either side of his head, her legs twitched, her fingers diving into his hair, hips lifting to chase his touch. At the first breach of one of his fingers into her, he felt his jaw flex with a gasp at the tight warmth that enveloped the digit. Lucy’s fingers clenched in his hair, and when he looked up it was to find her with her head lolled back against the armrest, eyes screwed shut, full lips parted with a moan, her fiery hair a mess of glorious waves around her face. 

He swallowed roughly at the sight, another shock of need traveling down his spine straight to his cock. With a soft groan, he lowered his head back to her cunt, and set to work. He knew her body better than he knew his own. Knew just how to roll his thumb over her clit to make her nearly scream. When to curl his fingers inside her to get her moans to raise a pitch. And when she was warmed up and ready enough for him to add a second finger to the mix, stretching her even wider in preparation for the girth of his impatient erection. 

He coaxed her to the very brink of orgasm, drawing her up, up, up…listening to her moans grow in frequency and pitch, feeling the way that her walls gripped and fluttered around his fingers and her clit twitched on his tongue. And then he withdrew, grinning cheekily when she let out a mournful cry, eyes popping open as he moved to prop himself above her once again. Tears welled in her eyes at her stolen orgasm, an adorable pout forming on her lips.

She looked so fucking cute like that, all pleasure-drunk and desperate. 

“Not yet, sweetheart,” he soothed, not letting her suffer for long. This was about making her feel better, after all. And he had always been incapable of denying her anything. He kissed her nose, chuckling fondly at the pleading look that crossed her face. With the hand that moments ago had two fingers knuckle-deep inside her, he grasped his erection, hard and thick between his legs. Flushed and oozing beads of precum from the tip. It ached with pent-up desire, every throbbing inch longing for her tight cunt. “Want to be inside you when you come for me.” 

He saw her pupils blow out even further than they already were, almost swallowing the brown of her irises completely. “Tommy,” she reached out, pulling his mouth back to hers. He kissed her back desperately, each of them moaning into the other’s mouth as he lined himself up, weeping cockhead nudging at her entrance. 

“Ready?” he asked between long, wet kisses. He always liked to make sure. At her enthusiastic nod and mumble of consent, he pushed just the first few inches of his cock in, then withdrew completely, then pushed only the head back in again. She whimpered, nails scratching down his biceps lightly. 

“You’re such a fucking tease, you know that?”

He laughed, nuzzling at her cheek affectionately, as if his cock wasn’t crying out to him in protest each time that he withdrew it from her tight, wet entrance. Taking his chin in her hand, Lucy guided his mouth to hers, those pillow-soft lips of hers curled up into a smile as they brushed against his. Her other hand went to his ass, giving a gentle press to encourage him to go deeper, and this time he relented. Low moans were unleashed into each other’s mouths as he finally pushed himself all the way inside of her, until his balls rested against her and their hips were flush together.

Tommy’s head spun with the feeling of being buried to the hilt inside her. The fit was so snug, it made stars pop across his vision. He swore that there was no feeling in the world better than this. Being one with her. Having her in the circle of his arms. The warmth of her kiss sinking into his skin.  

He pushed himself up on his hands just enough to be able to brush a few tendrils of hair out of her face, caressing her cheek and smiling down at her softly. She smiled back at him, almost shyly. 

“I love you,” he punctuated the statement with a kiss. Her arms went around his shoulders.

“I love you too.”

He kissed her again, reaching down to take hold of one of her thighs to hook it around his waist, and then he slowly started to thrust.

Sex with Lucy had always been one of his greatest comforts. It served as a reaffirmation of the connection between them, that little invisible thread that seemed to tether them together only growing stronger with every touch. No one else made him feel so loved, so safe and free to simply be himself, as Lucy did. More and more these days, he found himself needing the reminder that she was still there. Despite everything. All the shit he’d put her through. All the monumental sacrifices that she had to make to be with him. She was still there, and she still loved him. 

It had never been lost on him how lucky he was. 

Most days, he ached both in and out with wounds that would never wholly heal. But her just being there made it all easier. She made him happy, even on the days when he started to think that he’d lost the ability to feel any sort of joyous emotion at all.  

“Lucy,” he grunted. Her walls were hugging every inch of his cock, squeezing tight enough around him to make him feel almost light headed. He watched her long lashes flutter, head falling back to expose the length of her pale throat to his kisses while she moaned as he found the right angle in his thrusts to rub right up against that spot that always had her coming in record time. 

“Right there. Right there. Don’t stop,” she begged, nails scoring down his back, no doubt leaving faint red scratches in their wake. Reaching a hand between them, he thumbed at her clit, drawing tight circles around it in time with their love making. 

He could feel the sensation of tingles starting to build at the base of his spine, his balls beginning to tense and draw up as they prepared to spill his load. He groaned deeply at the sensation of her hand gripping his ass so tightly he was sure that she left little crescent moon indentations from her nails behind. The idea of being marked by her in such a way was enough to make his eyes roll in his head, hips bucking more vigorously. 

“I’m coming,” she gasped, as if he could not already feel it in the way that she squeezed around him so tight that it felt like she was trying to draw his very soul out through his cock and into her. The hand she had resting on the back of his neck pressed his face down more firmly against where he was sucking at the place where her neck met shoulder. The flexing and tightening of her walls around him had Tommy careening right over the edge with her, cock twitching and then releasing as he let out a thunderous groan, rolling his hips a few more times to prologue the pleasure as he spilled into her. 

He stilled with a deep sigh, head coming to rest on her clavicle, arms wrapping around her, keeping his still slightly twitching cock buried deep in her body. Lucy draped her arms around his shoulders. They were both covered in a light sheen of sweat, chests heaving as they fought to catch their breaths. 

Tommy closed his eyes, peacefulness momentarily sweeping over him as Lucy started to absentmindedly trace her fingers over a scar on his shoulder, then reached up to stroke his hair. Turning his face, he pecked at one of the many scars that covered her skin, nuzzling before raising his head to find her lips once more.    

“Feeling better?” he asked, moving his mouth from her lips to her cheek. 

“Mhm,” she brushed a few bits of dark hair out of his eyes. “Thank you.” Cradling his face, she kissed him again softly. 

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

He moved to kiss her neck again a few times. “You’re a good mum, you know.”

She averted her gaze, suddenly becoming very interested in rubbing a hand up and down his chest. Tommy’s fingers curled at her chin, forcing her to meet his eyes.

“You are.” His voice was stern, but kind. “Charlie adores you. They both do.”

Her hand flattened against the smattering of hair on his chest, and based on how still she suddenly became, he could tell that she was feeling the steady rise and fall of his breaths and the thump of his heart. 

“Thank you,” she said again, and he knew from simply looking into her eyes that she was talking about far more than just tonight or his words of reassurance. He gave her a soft look, brushing his nose affectionately against hers. Dropping his face to bury into the side of her neck, he breathed in the lingering scent of her perfume, enjoying the warmth of her skin. The weight of her tucked in his arms was incredibly comforting. He could have stayed there forever. 

But falling asleep on the couch was likely to cause her shoulders to bother her come morning. Even without her chronic pain, neither of them were exactly spring chickens anymore. Her remembered when they used to be able to fuck on the floor without issue. 

“Shall we go to bed?” Lucy asked, apparently thinking the same thing that he was. Tommy nodded, drawing himself up enough to kiss her once more before he pulled out, both of them wincing a little at the oversensitivity as he withdrew his softening cock. Sitting up on the couch, he began hunting around for their clothes, dragging on his underwear and passing Lucy her knickers. 

“Oi!” he huffed, trying–and failing–to hide his smile when she snatched away his undershirt, pulling it on to let it hang loosely over her body. She was short enough that it came down nearly to her mid-thigh.

“Mine now,” she said possessively, flashing him a cheeky grin. Tommy cupped the back of her head, drawing her in for yet another kiss. 

“Looks better on you anyway.”

She smiled, looking down bashfully, cheeks turning an adorable light pink. An undignified yelp left her lips when he suddenly stood and scooped her up, carrying her bridal style towards the stairs. 

“What about the rest of our clothes?” she laughed, looping her arms around his neck. 

“The maids will deal with them.”

She hummed, letting her head lean against his chest. His steps stuttered when she started to pepper firm kisses all across his skin, breath hitching when she let her teeth nip teasingly at his nipple, footfalls growing hastier, until he was almost speed-walking towards their room. 

She opened the door for him since his hands were full, and he didn’t bother turning on a light as he stepped in and kicked the door shut behind him. Moonlight snuck in through the sheer curtains, casting silvery-blue beams across the floor. Tommy captured her lips in his, movements creaking the floorboards as he managed to get them to the bed. She propped herself up on her elbows after he tossed her onto the mattress, and it was not lost on him how her eyes trained on his naked chest before lowering to fix on the tent already starting to form in his shorts. 

“Again?” she laughed, as he crawled on top of her.

“Again,” he affirmed, and descended on her with a playful growl.

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Thank you for reading! Please consider leaving a comment, reblog, or like. I always appreciate feedback and love getting the opportunity to interact with you and hear your thoughts!

[lustagel]

let's read and get so high we can't recognize the real world around us !

❥ 𝐅𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐎𝐌𝐒 (in order) ★ slashers. stranger things. the peaky blinders. criminal minds. euphoria. the punisher ˎˊ˗

smut, angst and fluff included.

˚₊⊹ 20/20 VISION ✧ ethan landry. ── @echnated !

[ sfw ] okokok! reader x lalala! ethan.

loved the concept, writing and the fic.

˚₊⊹ CLASSMATE CHARLIE WALKER ✧ charlie walker. ── @lithiumfae !

[ sfw - bit of spice ] obsession.

the obsession with her voice is literally everything to me because my voice is rather… man like.

˚₊⊹ DAMN, BOY! SLOW DOWN! ✧ thomas hewitt. ── @vampiremillk !

[ nsfw ] chubby black reader. breeding kink. overstimulation.

i just love pussydrunk! thomas :))

˚₊⊹ SOUTHERN STYLE CREAMPIE ✧ thomas hewitt. ── @/vampiremillk !

[ nsfw ] female chubby reader. breeding kink.

mwahhhh. the whole thing at my legs shaking.

˚₊⊹ NO.1 AUNTIE ✧ steve harrington. ── @erin-bo-berin !

[ sfw ] single mom! reader. steve x single mom! reader. robin x single mom! reader (platonic).

i can literally imagine robin being the funniest auntie alive and i love this.

˚₊⊹ DEVILISHLY HANDSOME MAN ✧ thomas shelby. ── @toomanyfandomsallatonce !

[ sfw ] lots of flirting. kinda dirty flirting. eating.

the flirting throughout had me kicking my feet in the air.

˚₊⊹ EAT YOU OUT- I MEAN ✧ spencer reid. ── @ddejavvu !

[ sfw - bit of spice ] spencer being a complete reck.

the post should say it for its self. just beautiful.

˚₊⊹ HOT WIFE ✧ spencer reid. ── @radiant-reid !

[ sfw ] hot wife! reader x spencer reid.

them sliding it under the table is EVERYTHING that i never knew i needed.

˚₊⊹ MESS OF MINE ✧ aaron hotchner. ── @hotchgirlsummer !

[ sfw ] female! bimbo! reader.

the cutest of this fic makes me wanna just die. i am in love with him. i believe it was written by gods.

˚₊⊹ DO YOU LIKE HER ✧ elliot. ── @eunoiathewriter !

[ sfw ] talks of smoking weed and drugs (duh, it’s euphoria).

i just loved it. thank you for writing this.

˚₊⊹ SHOW ME LOVE ✧ frank castle. ── @captainmarvels !

[ sfw - angst-ish ] insecurities.

so fluffy and adorable i would blush if i could…

TO WRITERS ! thank you for being here and for your wonderful writing. your writing is not only people of color friendly but also beautiful, and really appreciated by everyone. i hope you have a beautiful day, because you deserve it. <33

[theelderhazelnut]

Character Inspiration

I was tagged by @justasmolbard and another one of my moots that I don’t remember rn I’m sorry 😭

Game Taglist: (I know I’m doing this pretty late so forgive me for any double tags) @elderglocks @voidika @cloudofbutterflies92 @vivilovespink @captastra

@sinclxirx @isacoremeow @inafieldofdaisies @strangefable @bihanspookies

@cassietrn @carlosoliveiraa @simonxriley @confidentandgood @takiisieju-moved

@thedeadthree @icecutioner @imogenkol @scentedcandleibex

Thomas Shelby - Peaky Blinders: He’s a huge inspiration for her personality AND body language. He’s an intelligent leader, basically an introvert with social skills. He’s also outspoken and straightforward. AND I thought it’d be cool if Ombra had a signature overcoat like him. Plus, I imagine she has a monotonous tone just like him.

Lady Esdeath - Akame ga kill: Another intelligent leader. She’s also a dominant lady in every way. She’s stubborn and determined. She’s a huge inspiration for Ombra’s powers and fighting style, even though she has ice powers.

Amy Dunne - Gone Girl: She’s a calculated psychopath who observes and reads people like open books. She has no remorse for what she’s doing. She manipulates people with a nonchalant demeanor. AND she has no empathy when it comes to what she wants.

Eren Yeager - Attack on Titan: He’s mainly an inspiration for Ombra’s motivation. He wanted revenge and stayed determined for that for years. And in the end, he took things too far. That’s what Ombra’s wrath look like.

Hannibal Lecter - Hannibal: Mad psychiatrist. That’s it.

Magneto - X-men: An inspiration for Ombra’s powers. Remember that scene in Apocalypse in which he placed his palm on the ground and messed with the Earth’s magnetic field? Yup, that’s totally Ombra.

Bonus:

Silco - Arcane:

I imagine Ombra’s personality gradually becomes similar to his as we get to the end of the story. Do you see the exhaustion? Yup, that’s what I’m talking about.

Falkus’s analysis is under the read more.

Joker - Joker: Falkus wears the mask of a friendly and cheerful man, but beneath that he’s just a broken god. I also imagine that he has the same hysteric laughs.

Jinx - Arcane: Immature and chaotic. The way she talked to her guns and hallucinations? Haha that’s him.

Makshima Shogo - Psycho-pass: Chaotic psychopath. He has no remorse and no empathy for others. Stubborn when it comes to his goals. He’s also quite strong.

Maria Grayson - I Care a Lot: Manipulative, and pretends like she CARES and has sympathy while all she’s doing is for her own benefit.

Willy Wonka - Charlie and the Chocolate Factory: Creepy and random, and sometimes comes across as dry. Falkus gives dry responses sometimes, meaning he failes at hiding his true self a little.

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[themultifandomgal]

Tommy Shelby- Old Love Pt1

Pt2 Pt3 Pt4 Pt5

Tommy Shelby. My husband, well now ex husband. The man I loved who went away to war. At first we wrote to one another every chance we got. He would come home when he could and we loved our time together. A year into the war he came home and at always we spent a lot of time together, just us two. After a couple of weeks he had to go back and a week later I found out I was pregnant. Of course I was excited, but that's when the letters stopped. Arthur would still write to tell me Tommy was alive.

After years of fighting, the war changed him. Polly warned me that he would, but I held out hope that he would return home and once again sweep me off my feet. Unfortunately that didn't happen. When he returned the new barmaid would flirt with him and he had no problem flirting back, leaving me to take care of our son alone. After a while I had enough and left him, we got divorced and I moved away with our son. That was until Polly sent me a letter to tell me Tommy was going mad and that she believed that I was the only one who could bring him back. Hesitantly I agreed to come back to Small Heath and see my ex husband once again.

I walk through the streets of Small Heath holding Charlie's hand when I see him, Tommys older brother smoking cigarette outside of the pub. Arthur notices me first

"YN?!"

"Hey Arthur" I walk over to him. He stomps out his cigarette as I approach

"Hey little man" Arthur ruffles Charlies hair up

"Hi uncle Arthur"

"What are you doing back here?" he ask pulling me into a hug

"Polly sent me a letter. Tommy has been acting... odd?" I frown not quite understanding what has been going on. Arthur sighs

"Can we talk without little ears?"

"Sure. I'll drop him off at Polly's"

"Polly and Ada are inside. I own the pub now"

"Ok" I give him a nervous smile and pick Charlie up and follow Arthur into the pub

"YN you came!" Polly runs over to me and hugs both me and Charlie

"Do you mid watching him Pol?"

"Of course come on Mr let's go and get you a lemonde"

"Come with me" I follow Arthur into a little room that the boys would always relax in

"So? You going to tell me what's been going on?"

"Since you've left Tommy has been off the rails. Using opium every night, sleeping with..."

"I don't need to know who he's sleeping with. I left because he was flirting with that barmaid. We barley spoke. He was so obsessed with power, out all night, never let me in. What was I meant to do Arthur?"

"Not leave him. The war fucked him up. Fucked all of us up" Arthur rubs his hands over his face

"And I get that, but he wasn't the only one struggling Arthur. Yes you were in a physical war and I get that I can't imagine what any of you saw or did, but I was there for Tommy through the nightmares. I had to do that alone"

"What do you mean YN? You weren't ever alone"

"I was while you were all at war. I had to put my problems to the side. I'm only just well again" I take in a deep breath and sit down

"I love Charlie. I really do, but after I had him I was sad all the time. I didn't want to go out. Polly said it was just the baby blues, but it lasted longer than it should have. Every time he cried I would panic, cry, scream. Something was wrong Arthur. I heard about woman harming their children after giving birth. I didn't want to hurt him, but I needed Tommy. I went to an asylum and I was treated for insanity. Polly got me out and helped me"

"Fuck YN why didn't you say anything? Why didn't you tell us you were struggling?"

"How could I?" I shrug tears in my eyes "Tommy was having his own issues. Then that barmaid flirting. It was the final straw Arthur"

"Tommy needs you now more than ever and I think you need him"

"I'll think about it" I stand up and start leaving the room. That's when I see him walking in. Tommy. He looks disheveled, not at all like the man I love. He looks at me like he's seen a ghost.

[zablife]

Charlie's Lullaby

Tommy x Rosemary (OC, Charlie’s nanny)

Summary: After the loss of his wife, a grief-stricken Tommy is unable to care for himself or little Charlie. One night he finds Charlie's nanny comforting the child in the nursery and her advice leads to a solution for both father and son, bringing them closer than ever before.

Author’s Note: This was requested by @the-fangirl-diaries who wanted to read a fluffy fic about Tommy watching Charlie’s nanny comfort his child. There's a bit more angst in the beginning as Tommy navigates being a single parent, but it ends with fluff.

Warnings: nightmares, mention of blood

The stillness of the house wasn’t bothersome to Rosemary. The last two years spent caring for her father had prepared her for an assignment such as this. The melancholy of a large house, devoid of laughter or cheer was too familiar. She’d learned to find her own sunshine even in the last hours of his life. 

Therefore she made it her mission to bring joy to little Charlie Shelby, not yet two years old, whenever she could. The problem was his frequent nightmares. Despite having every toy and comfort imaginable, the child lacked the most basic comfort every young boy desperately needed. His mother had been killed months earlier in a tragic accident, the details of which were still unknown to his nanny. However, the chatter amongst the servants was enough to keep her from asking any further questions.

She’d grown fond of the late Mrs. Shelby, a fellow countryman, who treated her well and seemed to care deeply for her only child. She seemed far too young and beautiful to die. Little Charlie didn’t understand either, crying night and day for his mother. It took several weeks before Rosemary was able to lay him in his crib for the night without him waking every hour.

In truth, Mr. Shelby didn’t seem to fair much better than his young son. He rarely slept, pacing the halls with a glass of whisky in hand, staring at his wife’s portrait from the top stair. He never cried, but Rosemary often observed a pained expression on his handsome face that told her everything she needed to know about the horrible grief he was experiencing. She knew the look well because it was the same one her father had worn many years ago as he mourned her mother. 

Although she wanted to say or do something for him, she knew it was not her place to intrude. When she was hired Frances had warned her that Mr. Shelby could be volatile and she heeded this warning even more considering the present circumstances. 

Tonight as Rosemary placed her book upon the nightstand and turned out the light, she hoped it would be a peaceful evening without the cries of a child or the footsteps of a sleepless master. She tried not to think of her own exhausted limbs as she sunk into the soft mattress, hoping for a few hours of rest. 

It was not to be. Just as her eyelids grew heavy and a light dream played upon her mind, Charlie began to wail. Rosemary sat bolt upright at the noise, ready to attend to him. Throwing on her robe and slippers, she bustled down the hallway to the nursery and found her charge standing in his crib. He rubbed his tired eyes with chubby fists, tears streaming down his cheeks. 

“Shhh, Charlie. It’s alright, love. I’m here,” she assured him. As she drew closer, he raised his arms to his nanny in hopes of being rescued and she scooped him up, hugging him to her body tightly as she swayed and rocked him in her arms. “Did you have bad dreams again, little one?” she asked softly, caressing his hair. He hid his face in her neck, confirming her suspicions and she took him to sit in the large rocking chair in the corner.

“Want Mama…mama,” he mumbled his plea into her skin as hot tears trickled onto her night dress.

Rosemary held her breath as the words hit her ear, knowing she would have to explain it once more, the reality of the situation breaking her heart in two. “Your mam can’t be with you, Charlie. She’s in heaven with the angels,” she sighed. He sobbed until she stroked his back and asked, “Would you like a lullaby?”

His chest hiccuped against hers as he quieted, nodding slowly in affirmation. Then Rosemary raised her voice slowly as Charlie brought his thumb to his mouth for comfort.  

“Over in Killarney, many years ago My mother sang a song to me in tones so sweet and low Just a simple little ditty in her good old Irish way"

The tune of the familiar lullaby half hummed, half sung soothed the child instantly. It might have been the vibration rumbling pleasantly over his cheek or the dulcet quality of her voice, but all the tension left Charlie’s tiny body. Rosemary closed her eyes as she allowed her mind to wander, not needing to concentrate on the lullaby she’d known since childhood and sung countless times before. 

She found her thoughts straying to the well being of her employer. Remembering the dark circles under his eyes and she hoped she’d settled the child before he disturbed his father.

Stopping to take a breath, she listened for his footsteps in the hall and smiled to herself when she noted an absence of creaking floorboards.

Charlie began to squirm in her arms once more, signaling he had not yet succumbed to peaceful slumber. His tears continued along with a mournful wail as she resumed the chorus.

“Too-ra-loo-ra-loo-ral, Too-ra-loo-ra-li, Too-ra-loo-ra-loo-ral, hush now, don't you cry! Too-ra-loo-ra-loo-ral, Too-ra-loo-ra-li, Too-ra-loo-ra-loo-ral, that's an Irish lullaby”

It took a bit longer for Charlie to quiet this time, his sharp cries echoing down the corridor. 

Tommy tossed fitfully in his sleep, the shouts of his brothers’ angry voices broken by the piercing scream of a woman who had caught sight of Grace’s bloody evening gown. It quickly turned to a baby’s cry and Tommy moved his head from left to right, looking for his son in the fray.

Half awake, half asleep he willed himself from his bed to find his son in an attempt to protect him from the attack. “Charlie, Charlie…” he mumbled, stumbling along the hallway, barely holding himself up by the railing along the stairs. Had he taken two steps to the left, he would have fallen down a long flight of stairs to certain doom, but Tommy continued on toward his child.

As he walked through the drafty old manor, Tommy woke and shook his head to rid himself of the dreams that so often plagued him. He was learning to spot them now, the idiosyncrasies more easily detected nowadays. However, he couldn’t always rely on his gut alone. He craved the certainty of seeing his child and feeling the weight of him in his arms to know that all was well.

Rosemary continued singing, unaware of Mr. Shelby’s presence as he approached the nursery.

“Oft in dreams I wander to that cot again. I feel her arms a-hugging me As when she held me then”

Looking up to find her employer standing in the doorway, she gasped involuntarily, but Tommy only placed a finger to his lips to silence her. He had taken note of his son’s docile posture and wanted nothing more than to observe him in repose. Taking a moment to compose herself, Rosemary began to hum once more.

“And I hear her voice a-hummin' to me as in the days of yore, when she used to rock me fast asleep outside the cabin door.”

Noticing how Charlie’s arms fell loose around her shoulders, Rosemary stopped the lullaby, watching Mr. Shelby carefully. 

“Likes that one does he?” Tommy asked, voice rough and full of sleep.

“He does,” she answered quietly, stroking the child’s back absently.

“I like it too. I think I recall my wife singing it,” Tommy said, raking a hand through his hair, brows furrowed in deep thought.

“She said it was his favorite and I was to sing it to him when he was frightened,” Rosemary offered, casting her eyes to the ground.

“Mmmm,” Tommy agreed, the pain resounding through his chest. “I should have learnt it,” he confessed on a low breath. “He never asks for me, you know. Only his mum,” he admitted in a voice filled with hurt and shame at the thought of being a stranger to his own child.

Rosemary held her breath, unsure of how to answer as she watched the powerful man before her slump down against the wall, cradling his head in his hands. 

“I could teach it to you if you like,” she replied, biting her lip in anticipation. 

“Please,” was all he whispered, and she realized he was just as lost as the child she held in her arms.

Singing the tune once more, she noticed his head sway slightly as she sang. When she finished the last verse, she swore she saw a tear fall down his cheek in the dim light. Although, there was a note of joy in it as well, his lips curled in a half smile, eyes fixed on the photograph kept on Charlie’s dresser and Rosemary knew that some good had been done that night to bring father and son closer together. 

—————————————-

Rosemary woke with a start, hearing an unfamiliar voice coming from the nursery. Leaping from the bed, she laced her robe and padded down the hallway with her heart in her throat. She wondered what noise could be coming from Charlie’s room at this hour.

As she rounded the corner and peered into the room, she stopped suddenly as she realized her services were not needed. Mr. Shelby stood at the edge of Charlie’s crib, bouncing the child in his arms as he hushed his cries with a tenderness she didn’t know he possessed.

Rosemary watched intently as Mr. Shelby crossed to the window whispering, “Good boy, good boy.” As Charlie’s cries lessened, her employer stood in quiet contemplation, looking out toward the gardens. A bright crescent moon shone down upon him, illuminating the silvery blue of Tommy’s eyes and the deep hollows of his cheeks from lack of appetite. 

Reaching a chubby hand toward his father’s face in a bid for attention, Charlie caught his father’s gaze with a sob and a single plea, “Mama!” Tommy’s posture became rigid and his chin tilted toward the ceiling, searching the intricate molding for an answer to his troubles.

As Charlie whimpered, he looked down at his son, feeling the urge to confess the very thing he’d been unable to say since Grace died. On a shaky breath he admitted quietly,  “Mama’s not coming back so it’s just you and me.” Clearing his throat to dislodge the lump that had formed, he added reassuringly, as much for Charlie’s benefit as his own, “She’ll be with us in our hearts, cause we love her.” 

Charlie cocked his head to observe his father as though he understood every word completely. Laying his head against his father’s chest for warmth, he stayed perfectly still and quiet as his father continued, “I’m not much good, Charlie. You’ll find that out soon enough, but I’ll do my best for you, my boy.” 

With his back to her it was difficult to hear at first, just a low hum rising from the depths of his chest like a distant rumble of thunder. As Rosemary strained to hear, she realized Mr. Shelby was singing to his boy and her heart swelled at the recognition of the lullaby she taught him days before. 

It took a moment for the shock to dissipate as she had never actually heard him sing the lyrics. He’d only spoken them back to her as he learned them, leaving her to wonder what his voice might sound like when raised in song.  Closing her eyes, Rosemary listened to the richness of his baritone as it began to fill the room, his confidence growing with each verse. 

He took his time and sang the chorus a bit slower as it was clear he was relishing his new ability to soothe his son properly. And despite the slight rasp at the end of the notes due to his smoking, Rosemary couldn’t help but be impressed.

Opening her eyes once more, she drank in the sight of father and son as they clung to one another. Leaving them to their grief, she retired to her room for the evening in case she was called upon later.

——————————

Three months later…

Rosemary was helping Charlie finish the last of his breakfast when Mr. Shelby strode into the dining room looking more well rested than he had in months. Charlie was still waking at night, but not as much as he had before and Tommy found that singing helped them both relax. The fact that they were also using the time to bond was a revelation as Tommy never imagined he’d be close with his son after Grace's death.

He leaned over to place a tender kiss to the top of Charlie’s head before turning to Rosemary for an account of the two days he’d been gone on business. He was anxious to hear everything and Rosemary spared no detail.

As Tommy chain smoked, she dutifully gave her report of her charge's playtime and sleep schedule. Then a smile spread across her face as she informed her boss of the most important piece of news, “This morning when he woke, Charlie called out for you. Not me or his mam. Only you.”

Tommy’s eyes immediately darted up from his lighter, a forgotten cigarette hanging from his mouth as he sat dumbstruck. His lips began to curl in a slow smile that eventually reached his eyes, creasing the corners in genuine happiness. He plucked the cigarette from his mouth and studied it as he chuckled, “Well, how about that.”

Frances arrived to clear the table, looking from Tommy to Rosemary, wondering what had everyone in such high spirits. Although she didn’t wish to disturb the atmosphere because it was so rarely a joyful one.

Before she could ask, Tommy spoke up with a note of pride in his voice as he boasted, “He asked for me today, Frances. For the first time.”

“That’s wonderful, sir,” Frances beamed, before returning to the kitchen.

Lifting Charlie from his chair, Rosemary barely noticed Mr. Shelby rise to come and stand by her side. Touching her forearm, he said, “I wanted to say thank you.”

“For what?” she asked, slightly confused.

“Showing me how to be a better father,” he admitted, sincerity evident in his tone.

“I just taught you some words,” she said shyly.

“I’ll require a few more lessons though,” Tommy smirked. “I need more than one tune in my repertoire, eh?” he laughed and Rosemary joined him with Charlie clapping his hands in delight between them.

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

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