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wutheringcaterpillar · 10 months ago

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I love love love your work so much!!! How about a soft!dark!Tommy fic where the reader cheats (she doesn’t love him) and he still wants her back

Warnings: Infidelity, p in v, smut, altered timeline/storyline, cheating, dark!tommy, a singular face slap, relationship problems, mental diagnosis

thank you for the request hope you enjoy!

In the beginning, there was admiration and love, in the end destruction and deceit claimed your lives.

When Oswald Mosley walked into your life, he was a married man as you were an engaged woman.

His wife was quite beautiful but the attitude and extravagant confidence was all too apparent and took over the room for you to want any friendship with her, to which Tommy respected.

His delicate facial structure swooned many women, similar to Tommy’s yet though he had lingering eyes from time to time, they always seemed to settle upon you instead of his wife.

He took an interest in your life, hobbies, dishing out flattering compliments here and there unlike your fiance whom just seemed consumed with business.

Months carried on, much like the seasons with many interactions involving the charming man but nothing but innocent, friendly banter occurred until the charity event you were attending tonight that Tommy was unable to join as he had a business meeting in downtown London.

Sitting at the bar, you’d run into one of your friends from college, sharing small talk and stories of the adventures you’d endured. Not a singular impure thought had crossed your mind, until an all too familiar voice spoke from behind you.

“Is that the sensational Ms. Y/L/N I see?” The seductive, yet charming voice pulled you away from your drink. Your subtle eyes turning to face the handsome, well complimented man.

Glancing around the room, to ensure none of Tommy’s men were around, you decided what was wrong indulging in an innocent conversation. After all the endless compliments he gave you made you feel good inside, something you hadn’t felt in awhile.

“Where’s Mr. Shelby tonight?”

“He’s um- out of town for business matters.” Pursing his lips together in disapproval, he signaled for the bartender, ordering drinks and somehow managing to place your favorite without even asking.

“A shame, a lovely lady like you. He shouldn’t trust other men to be able to control their arousal looking at such a dazzling woman. Especially with a figure like yours, you can’t find that often Y/N, you’re one of a kind if I’d say so myself.” Your cheeks blushed an amber shade of red, while he smiled slyly. There’s no harm in having a singular drink with a friend, right?

Taking his seat next to you, your friend whispered a word, ensuring that you’d call her if you were in danger as she had to leave due to an appointment early in the morning.

Motioning that you’d be alright, Mosely smiled widely, insisting on a cheers to the glorious happenings of life.

What was planned to be one drink turned into several as conversation carried on miraculously. He was quite an interesting character unlike his wife whom had left with another man.

“How does your marriage work? There’s no jealousy? Or hatred?” Mosley laughed coyly, simply intrigued by your question.

“Oh we both have the understanding of having a bit of scandalous fun, letting loose. Surely it gets boring looking at the same person all the time. Gives us a well needed break. I can assure you she won’t be telling Mr. Shelby. As shallow as it may sound she only cares about herself. As long as I give her attention when she desires it, then there is really no need to fret.” You clicked your tongue, attempting to wrap your head around that way of life. You had tried desperately to be intimate with Tommy, searching for his attention on a daily basis yet he seemed to not have a care in the world, simply setting you aside.

Maybe there was some truth to what Mosley was saying, but if Tommy really loved you like he claims to, you couldn’t possibly get bored of the person you’re in love with. Now here you were wondering if you ever truly were in love with him.

Reeling you from your thoughts, Mosley spoke confidently.

“It would probably be a tremendous stress relief for you. I have a room booked just down the avenue all to myself, since my lovely wife decided to spend the night elsewhere. What do you say in indulging in a bit of fun with one another. You always have been quite the spectacular interest to me.” Shaking your head and tracing the engagement ring, you thought back to the beginning. When Tommy put in the effort, was willing to do anything for you.

Surely you shouldn’t just throw it away due to relationship problems.

“We mustn’t. It wouldn’t be right.” Everything in you was fighting the urge to not go against the morally correct thing to do, yet you weren’t exactly saying no, and the liqour was encouraging the impure thoughts of what you’d like to do to this man.

It took you by surprise when he settled his hand upon your thigh beneath the bar.

“Y’know Y/N. Tommy would never have to know, and I must say. I’ve never seen your adoring smile as much before as I have tonight. You should indulge and aim for happiness in life. No regrets, so now I bid the fair question. Are you happy revoking yourself of such spontaneous pleasure and a night of fun or do you want to live in the ill construct of society?” He had caught you completely off guard, your mind was running a million miles a minute. You wanted to be a good fiance, you really did but the convincing, devilishly good looking man had a valid point.

Tommy barely paid any attention toward you, your sex life was nearly non existent, kids seemed to be out of the picture, not wanting to another one after Ruby passed.

If Tommy had taught you one thing, it was how to keep a secret, to move strategically.

Glancing down in curiosity, your eyes fell upon his semi hardened member in his pants, and the liquor was enough to convince you.

“So tell me in all of your beauty, and immaculate body, what’s it going to be Y/N?”

With questionable eyes, before you answered, you picked up the glass finishing off the sour amaretto, letting the liqour quench your thirst while excitement burned between your thighs.

The risk of getting caught and breaking the rules igniting a flame within your soul.

The next thing you knew Mosley’s hands were holding your ass up against the wall of an expensive hotel room, his lips pressed against yours in a heated frenzy of lust.

Your tongue delve into his mouth, battling for dominance, the sweet taste of rum and coke coating his tongue.

Shedding one another of clothing, you hands tangled with his belt, throwing the leather accessory on the carpeted floor, eager to retrieve his coveted member from his pants.

Oh how he made you want to commit terrible sins.

His cock sprang freely, needing desperately to be in between your soaked folds.

“My, my, what a treasure you are.” His voice was low, and flirtatious, one of his eyebrows peaking in interest at the sight of your breasts hanging freely, nipples already hardening from the sight of his nude body, imagining all the positions he could have you in.

“Take me, fuck me before I have the chance to feel any guilt.” He didn’t need another moment of convincing. Finally happy that he has you all to himself for no one to know, but he was sure of one thing. That this whole damn hotel was going to hear just how much he can pleasure you.

Thrusting inside you, you’d forgotten what it felt like to be so full. It had been months since Tommy had made love to you and being with another man felt terribly wrong but also phenomenally right.

“Oh fuck, how I’ve missed this!” Your fingers laced into his smooth, brown strands of hair as his cock infiltrated your blooming rose that was aching to be pollened.

He lifted you from the wall, repositioning you onto all fours on the bed.

He drilled into you relentlessly you ass richocheting with each combustive thrust, his balls merely slapping against your skin.

“Fuck, fuck! Don’t stop!” He smirked to himself, hands settling on your ass cheeks as he slammed into you over and over again relentlessly.

Pulling you back by your hair his lips connected to the warmth of your neck, leaving lavish kisses on your delicate, inviting skin.

You couldn’t help but grind back against him in a melodic rhythm, waves of undeniable pleasure coursing through your veins.

“My darling, we’ve only just begun.” Grabbing your sides and flipping you onto your back, you giggled like a school girl finally feeling happy after so long of being unsatisfied.

It wasn’t until nearly a year later until revelations came to life, a week before your wedding. Tommy had been switching sides unbenknowst to you, yet he allowed the “friendship” to continue on. That didn’t mean he wasn’t hesitant nor idiotic. He paid close attention from afar, deciding he had, had enough when the fourth night a week you hadn’t come home.

Mosley’s visits during the day to your house made him question what he was really there for. The longing stares, the playful insides jokes, the sudden shared interests helped him slowly piece matters together.

Noticing the way you smiled when he walked in the room, the way your eyes lit up like fireworks whenever he’d “accidentally” brush past you.

Tommy was hurt, hoping that this realization couldn’t be true, that he was over reacting. Yet Mosley’s marriage was far from devotion and true love, considering they each slept around as if it were nothing.

Sitting in the leather chair in the living room, he watched the clock tick. Hours on end passing by until you called at midnight, saying “the car had a flat tire and you’d get it looked at in the morning as you were tired”.

Has it really come to this point? The wedding was supposed to be in a week, yet Tommy hadn’t seen you plan for it one bit.

He began to question all the things that went wrong. He admitted he had put business before your relationship, always expecting you to watch Charlie, hardly having sex due to traveling so much for meetings. Could he blame you? There was only one thing for him to do to win back the love of his life.

Curled against Mosley’s chest, the fireplace was the only light in the room, tucked in the wall near the end of the bed.

He was spewing flirtatious jokes in your ear, making you giggle when suddenly the door flew open, causing you to jolt up, pulling the sheet over you breasts until you recognized who was at the door.

“Tommy?” Mosley rolled his eyes, scooting up from his laying position, reteriving a cigarette from the bedside table.

Tommy stood there as pale as a ghost, feeling guilt, knowing full well this was his fault. He should have been a better partner, he should have at the very least tried and now he was paying the price.

Looking at your nude body, entangled in the satin sheets with the enemy, his mouth was subtly agape, how did he not piece the puzzle together.

“What’s the matter Mr. Shelby? Surely this can’t come as a surprise to you. After all, a woman can only go unloved for so long, and a man can’t expect a woman’s love in return if he doesn’t work toward earning it.” Tommy didn’t know what to feel with both sets of your eyes on him. He was angry, upset, saddened, his heart felt like it was stuck in his throat, beating anxiously fast, as if it were a bomb waiting to burst through his skin.

Instead of speaking a word, Tommy simply exited the room, unable to blame either one of you.

Sighing and shoving the sheet off of you, you gathered your clothes, putting them on hastily in a disheveled manner before rushing out after your fiance.

“Oh let the blimey sap go Y/N, you’re better off without him!” Mosely shouted as you slammed the door behind you, smirking in his success that he had won you over, and had you to himself.

Reaching the stairwell, Tommy was sat on the top step, the smoke from his cigarette travelling into the thin air.

Frowning, you took a seat next to him, crossing your arms in shame and guilt.

“How did you know where I was?” He stared off into the distance, staring blankly at the wall.

“I have eyes everywhere Y/N. Rookie mistake only using this hotel and occasionally his house when the whore of a wife is gone rendezvousing with another man.” You thought you had been extremely articulate and careful, yet Tommy still found a way to outsmart you. Not once did you see any of his men in the same vicinity as you.

“So how long have you known?”

“I’ve had my suspicions for a few months now. Should’ve known sooner but I guess I’m not home enough or treat you well enough so you go and fuck the fascist.” Scoffing, he turned to you with a look of disapproval, but you weren’t intimidated anymore.

“I never promised you anything. I’ve given you everything for years on end, yet you can’t give me the one thing I’ve asked for.” In a quick, flash of a movement Tommy slapped his hand back against your cheek, grabbing your chin in an angered movement forcing you to look him in the eyes.

“You know I lost Ruby. You know damn well I’ve given you a house to live in. I’ve given you money, food. I’ve taken you off the streets. I’ll be damned if I don’t get a second chance. I wouldn’t be wasting my time here with you if I didn’t care Y/N.” Your eyes were wide in terror as he had never spoken to you in such a way, nor ever layed a hand on your skin.

Part of you wanted to scream for Mosley to come save you but the threatening look in Tommy’s eyes was daring you to do so. The once ocean blue eyes, now a venomous shade of sapphire.

“Tommy you’re scaring me.” He released your jaw, knowing that the impending, serious look on his face was enough that you would not run off.

Running your hand over the merely bruised skin, it was quite clear he held back force from the slap to your cheek, but you didn’t want to know what strength he was holding back. You felt as if you deserved it and wouldn’t deny him of that.

“Love is supposed to be scary isn’t it? You won’t find a man that will fight for you the way I am, not on the streets of Birmingham. I won’t allow you to make a fool of me any longer. Nor will I make a fool of you any longer. I will be there, I will show you affection, and mend my dishonarable traits to the best of my ability but you need to work with me Y/N. How am I supposed to know if you’re upset when you go silent, not voicing your concerns. Instead running to another man for a child.” He had a point but seeing his interactions with others made you believe he wasn’t one to negotiate unless it was on his terms, his way.

“Please, he doesn’t even know about that. I just wanted to feel loved, something I haven’t felt in quite a long time and frankly if this is your way of apologizing for always putting me second you can go fuck yourself because you are not the man that I agreed to marry anymore.” When you stood up to go back to the room, Tommy spoke up, dispelling the cigarette onto the lavish, patterned carpet.

“This ends here and now.”

“And if it doesn’t?” Tommy chuckled darkly, pulling an envelope from his coat.

“Read it.” Furrowing your eyebrows in confusion, you opened the letter to find he had looked into you.

The paper held addresses of family members, formal documents of taxation, and the history of you medical records. How did he get this?

This was private, and completely out of reach from anyone other than yourself.

“What-what is this?” With shaking hands you skimmed the words, recognizing every piece of information to be true.

“I researched you, something I should’ve done when we first met. Or at the very least taken an interest in, like you’ve said. You’ve evaded paying taxes, you were in a mental health institution for nearly two years for attempting to kidnap your sister’s child because the voices in your head told you the child was yours. A diagnosed anxiety ridden schizophrenic. You were released on May 7, due to good behavior and proper medication. Your family disowned you, but you still check in on them, don’t you?” Tears pricked at your eyelids, feeling completely vulnerable and at his mercy. These were all things you should have told him yourself but failed to do so, and now it’s biting you in the ass

“Give me a second chance and I can make this all go away Y/N. Wipe your file clean, adjust the tax forms without anyone knowing and ensuring your family goes unharmed. If I didn’t give a flying fuck about you, I would’ve just left. Can’t you see I love you, and I am trying. I do care for you, and I want to learn more, be able to help you more. You have to let me in.” A loud bang caused you to jump up from the floor. Glancing down the hallway, there were two men holding Mosely whom contained a bloody nose and a black eye. A gun placed directly beneath his chin, while your hands flailed to cover your mouth in shock and worry. The tears flooding down your heated cheeks.

“He doesn’t care about you y’know? He’s a fascist, looking to take the world for his own, fucking the hard working citizens and low income families. So either you come with me, and see what a good husband I can be, or Mosley here gets a bullet to the skull. After all I still love you even after all of the secrets you’ve kept from me. I suppose we’re even now, eh?” The men lifted Mosley, releasing the safety on the gun, making you wince and coming to an abrupt decision.

“Fine! Fine! I’ll stay with you! Just don’t hurt him. Let him go and we can all move on, okay?! But I swear Tommy, things better be different or I will take the streets over you.” Being satisfied with your answer, Tommy’s men dropped him in the hallway while your fiancé held out his hand, escorting you back home with him where you belonged.

Mosley stayed away to your surprise. Tommy and you coming to an agreement to push the wedding to a further date, mending and working on your issues like you should have done very long ago.

Tommy agreed to give you a child on the condition, that you communicated your feelings to which you obliged once he agreed to be more intimate and loving, coming to the realization business is not always first.

#tommy shelby #tommy shelby x reader #thomas shelby x reader #oswald mosley #oswald mosley x reader #Peaky blinders #peaky blinders imagine #tommy shelby imagine #thomas shelby imagine #oswald mosley imagine #ranaewrites #request

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tonejo4ever · 5 months ago

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Lodgetember Day 1: Mr Mosley✨✨

Well, well, weell we begun with the Londgetember!! Here my little drawing, sincerly his color scheme was challenging but there was the fun✨

#LodgetemberMosley #lodgetember day 1 #daypost24 #tgs #the glass scientists #lodgetember #lodgetember24 #tgs lodgers

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londonsfinestscientists · 5 months ago

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Lodgetember Day 1: Mr. Mosley!

Mr. Mosley is the Hollow Earth Submariner of the Society, and likely deals with exploring and mapping subterrainian landscapes with the use of drills and subnautical vessels. Whether he's an advocate or trying to debunk the hollow Earth theory is unknown.

He's always seen with some sort of face covering and headwrap, as well as goggles, with his hair in a high ponytail.

Tag your posts for him with #LodgetemberMosley and #Lodgetember24 so we can easily see them!

more images of him can be found under the cut!

#LodgetemberMosley #lodgetember day 1 #daypost24 #tgs #the glass scientists #lodgetember #lodgetember24 #tgs lodgers

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mischievouslittlecreature · 1 month ago

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Part 26: Do You Love Me

Summary: Tommy decides what to do about Mosley, and Lizzie comes home.

Word Count: 6,249

Warnings: Insecurity, a very unhappy marriage, and references to polyamory.

Previous Chapter • Series • Fic • Next Chapter

Chapter 5: The Thread is Ripping

“Which one is Mosley?”

Lucy and Ada were sitting in the observation booth, overlooking the MP’s benches. Craning her head to peer down at the men, Lucy gestured with her cigarette towards where Mosley sat, his head cocked as he listened to Tommy speak.

“That one.”

Ada leaned forward, arms resting on the banister, eyes fixing on Mosley with a keen level of scrutiny in them that reminded Lucy and awful lot of how Tommy looked at someone when he was first sizing them up.

Bringing her cigarette back to her lips, Lucy turned her attention back to Tommy, allowing herself a moment to just enjoy watching him speak.

“I’m really not sure about going ahead with this meeting, Lucy,” Ada told her as they went to meet Tommy out in the hall after the speakers were done.

“I know. But Tommy wants to hear what he has to say.”

“As if a man like that could have anything good to say.”

“All the more reason to hear it, then.”

“You can’t possibly be alright with Tommy considering working with him.”

“It’s just drinks, Ada. And he’s not considering anything with Mosley yet.”

Ada’s voice lowered, eyes shifting around to make sure no one was listening. “So what is he doing, then? Because I know my brother, and as bloody infuriating as he can be sometimes, I don’t believe that he actually agrees with any of Mosley’s more recent policies.”

A group of men dressed in fine, pressed suits walked past them. Lucy eyes them warily, waiting until they had passed before speaking.

“Burying our heads in the sand when it comes to Mosley and the growing movement behind him isn’t going to help anyone. Better to get to know if he and this new party he’s supposedly forming are an actual threat or not.”

“So you can deal with it now?”

Lucy wetted her lips. “Better to kill it while it’s young than when it’s grown formidable and strong.”

She could feel Ada still watching her while she broke their gaze to look around for Tommy.

“Why did he even ask me here?”

Lucy looked back at her, weighed in her mind if it was worth telling her or not, and decided that it was. “Because Mosley scares him.”

Shocked silence met her at that. There was a shift in Ada, as she finally started to understand what they were dealing with. “Does he scare you?”

“Yes.” She finally heard Tommy’s telltale heavy footfalls coming up behind them, turning to find him approaching hastily.

“Sorry, got cornered by a few people. Had to make small talk. Shall we?” He gestured down the hall.

“Tommy, you made me your political advisor,” Ada said as they walked. “And as your political advisor, it is my official advice that you don’t meet with Mr. Mosley.”

“Yes, I know.”

They made their way into a dimly lit, crowded lounge, embellished by leather seats and chairs, each circular table adorned with a small red-shaded lamp. MPs and other political figures were gathered at tables or milling about, the lounge with its bar a common place for them to gather to discuss business or other dealings.

Mosley was already seated at a table when they arrived, a newspaper held up to his face. He lowered it at the sound of their approaching footsteps, face breaking into a beaming smile that did nothing to hide the deadness of his eyes as he stood to greet them and shake Tommy’s hand.

“And Miss. Winters, of course, wonderful to see you again.”

She forced herself to shake his hand, skin crawling the entire time that their palms made contact. His leering gaze was respitefully pulled quickly away from her as his attention shifted towards Ada as Tommy introduced them.

She tried to hide how she inched a little closer to Tommy before they sat down.

From an outside perspective, it may have looked like the meeting went smoothly. But as Mosley continued to speak, Lucy felt her sense of unnerving grow.

“You know, I was rather hoping we might have this meeting alone,” Mosley said, eyes never leaving Tommy’s.

“Lucy accompanies me to most of my meetings, Mr. Mosley, and my sister is my political advisor,” Tommy explained.

Ada spoke up, explaining that she had advised Tommy not to meet with him, and Mosley’s attention turned directly onto her. Lucy was impressed at the way Ada met his dark, empty gaze without so much as blinking. When he brought his hand down with a crash onto the table, shouting in demand that the whiskey they’d ordered only a few short minutes ago be brought out now, his gaze remained fixed pointedly on Ada. A clear telegraphing of his disapproval of her presence. An attempt at intimidation. At frightening her.

If Ada was at all frightened by the display, she did a marvelous job hiding it. The corner of her lips turned up on one side, and she shot Lucy a look of mild amusement at the childish behavior from across the table.

Can you believe that shit, Luce? her eyes seemed to say. Lucy managed a smirk back at her, reaching into her pocket for her cigarettes. Mosley’s gaze was turned back fully onto Tommy, but not for one second did Lucy think that he hadn’t taken note of the quiet exchange between her and Ada.

Good. Better for him to know that they thought him ridiculous rather than that they were scared of him.

He dodged making any direct confirmations that facism was where he was moving towards politically. Instead, he gracefully turned the conversation towards, of all things, Ireland.

Lucy took a considerable gulp from her whiskey, eyes darting towards Tommy. His face remained schooled into an expression that gave away nothing, but she could tell that he was thinking of the same thing that she was:

That voice, on the other end of the telephone line. An Irish accent, explaining how there were men in Belfast who wanted him dead. Men who Michael had been allegedly cutting deals with.

Landmines, in their own fucking garden. But who was the gardener? Who planted them? It couldn’t be Michael, he had still been on a ship or in Belfast when they were placed. So who was it, then? The men from Belfast, or someone else?

And what the fuck did Mosley know about it, if anything? Was it just a coincidence, that he brought up Ireland now, of all times? Or was it an indication of something else?

Enemies. Enemies in every fucking direction that they turned. Her skin prickled with that feeling of approaching, looming danger. Drawing nearer and nearer with every breath.

She couldn’t say that she wasn’t relieved when Ada promptly stood, announcing that she was ready to leave.

Mosley ignored her. “We’re looking for someone to begin a dialogue with certain elements in Belfast with whom we don’t officially have any dealings.”

Lucy raised an eyebrow. She couldn’t help but find it a little funny how confident Mosley was that Tommy would be in any way supportive of his ideologies. And yet here he was, inviting him into his organization without seemingly even the slightest worry that Tommy would be opposed.

It was often that she forgot that other people did not know Tommy like she did.

Mosley did not seem dissuaded by Tommy’s gentle refusal of the offer. “It would involve a promotion.”

“Birmingham is my concern,” Tommy rose from his seat. Lucy mirrored him. “Ireland bores me.”

She and Ada couldn’t help but share a tiny smile at that. Tommy thanked Mosley for the whiskey, and led the way towards the exit. When she looked back while trailing behind him, it was to see Mosley watching them leave, a smirk pulling at one side of his lips. She turned her head sharply to face forward once more.

“What the fuck was that about?” Ada asked once they were in an almost deserted hallway, a good distance away from Mosley and the lounge.

“Ireland. It’s been Ireland’s day all fucking day long,” was all Tommy said in response, sidestepping her attempts to garner any more information on that subject. Instead, he started instructing her to go home and call her contacts from her time in Boston to ask about Michael. They drew aside, Tommy pacing back and forth, sounding off orders. Lucy watched him worriedly, sensing that something inside him was moments away from unraveling.

“What are you talking about?” Ada asked, as he continued to ramble on about Mosley.

“I’m talking about an empty chair, Ada,” Tommy’s voice was barely above a whisper. “My chair. My throne. People think that I’m gonna fall. They start behaving in a different way around you.”

“Who thinks that?” Ada had gone still.

“They start to circle,” Tommy continued, as if he hadn’t even heard her. She shared an alarmed look with Lucy. “Who’s gonna take the throne, eh?”

“Tommy…” Lucy tried, reaching out a hand to him, hoping to pull him back from whatever dark precipice he was teetering on.

“Linda, she wants some for Arthur…Aberama Gold…people in the north…Michael…” He seemed to only just then realize that words which he had not intended to speak had been pouring from his lips. His jaw hinged shut and he spun away, his back to her and Ada, clearing his throat while raising his cigarette to his lips. When he turned back to them, his expression was collected once more, the mask that had momentarily slipped once again firmly in place. He reissued his order for Ada to go home and make some calls. “I need to get back to Birmingham. Lucy.”

“Yeah.” She made to follow him, as he was already moving with quick steps down the hall.

“Lucy–” Ada grabbed at her arm, alarm clear in her voice. Lucy turned half back towards her, taking in the worried look in her wide eyes and reached out to squeeze her arm.

“I’ve got him. Don’t worry.”

Ada’s lips pressed together, and while the concern still shimmered in her eyes, her shoulders relaxed a little. With a nod, she let Lucy go.

She had to jog a little to catch up with Tommy, his steps more hurried than usual. Stupid short legs, she mentally cursed, shooting them a glower before quickening her pace.

“Tommy…” she tried to get his attention, but he didn’t acknowledge her, and she decided not to try again until after they were out of the office and in the car, pulling out onto the street to start the trek back to Birmingham.

“No one is taking anything,” she said finally, definitively. “I won’t let them.” When he didn’t respond, she looked over at him. Distress and paranoia was still etched onto his face, his eyes shifting around as if searching for unseen enemies. “Tommy?”

“They’re all coming at us, Lucy.”

“Michael is a problem,” she acknowledged. “And so are the people up north. But I think Linda really just wants to get away. She’d sooner take Arthur back into the country than try to have him take your position. And you know that Arthur would never agree to usurping you. Aberama’s loyalty is guaranteed so long as we continue to support Bonnie’s boxing career.” She reached out to smooth a hand over the back of his head. “We’re alright. It’s mostly Michael and Mosley that we need to worry about now.” She watched his throat work as he swallowed, and she dropped her hand to instead rest on his forearm. “And, if any of the others do try to betray us, I’ll just kill them.”

He let out a small snort, looking over at her fondly. She was turned almost entirely with her side pressed against the leather seats of the car, body jostling slightly as they bounced along the uneven cobblestones. She cupped his cheek momentarily, a reassuring smile tugging at her lips. Some of the frantic paranoia had gone out in his eyes, and she relaxed at the knowledge that she’d managed to calm him down at least somewhat. He leaned into her touch, quickly turning his head to press a kiss to the center of her palm before returning his eyes back to the road.

“What would I do without you, eh?” he asked. She pressed herself to his side, the physical contact doing wonders to calm both of them. And there in the safety of the shell of the car, she didn’t need to worry about anyone spotting them. Her head came to nestle against his shoulder, the material of his coat soft against her cheek.

“Tell me what you’re thinking in regards to Mosley,” she requested. Tommy sighed, eyes remaining on the road while she rubbed a hand up and down his chest.

“I don’t think he’s going to stop trying to get me to join his new party.”

“You’re not a fascist.”

“Some in the family would say otherwise.”

“Then they’d be wrong.”

Tommy gave her a little peck on the side of the head for that. “I think he may be one of the worst people I’ve ever met.”

“Yeah,” she agreed. “And we’ve known some bad ones over the years.”

Keeping one hand on the wheel, he trailed the other through her hair. Being careful, as he always was, not to pull on any of the strands. “I have an idea. But it’s dangerous. And I’ll need to talk to Younger…”

She gave him a knowing look. “You want to do to Mosley and the fascists what you’ve been doing to Jessie and the communists.”

“Yes.”

“You think that you can stomach pretending to be one of them?”

“If it means stopping him.”

She nodded. Mosley was a monster creeping in the dark, waiting for an opportunity to pounce. Someone had to stop him. Might as well be them. They were probably some of the best equipped for the job, anyway.

“You would be alright with it?” Tommy asked, and she smiled a little to herself at how he always sought out her opinion on things.

“I’m happy with anything that wipes that smug look off his face.” Closing her eyes, she tilted her head to press a kiss to his neck. “You have my support. Always.”

“Thanks, love.” His hand dropped from stroking through her hair to wrap around her shoulders. “Have you managed to dig up anything on this Captain Swing yet?”

“Not much. Her real name is Laura McKee. She really is a commander in the IRA. That’s all our friends in Belfast have been able to find out, so far. I told them to keep digging.”

“Right.”

They rode in silence for a stretch of time.

“Are Lizzie and Ruby still coming home today?” she asked.

“Far as I know.”

“Maybe…she’ll be better now that she’s had some time away and gotten things out of her system.”

“Yeah. Maybe.” He sounded about as optimistic as someone who had just been diagnosed with a terminal illness. Lucy gave him a gentle pat in sympathy. His thumb rubbed back and forth against her upper arm where it was clasped. “Thank you for helping me with everything.”

“Of course. It’s what I’m here for.”

He pressed a kiss to her hair, and together they both turned their eyes to the dark road sprawling out in front of them.

∗ ∗ ∗

When they arrived home, Tommy took all but three steps into the house, and was promptly collided into by Ruby when she came dashing into the entryway to throw herself into his arms.

“Daddy!”

“Hello, my girl,” he hoisted her up so that her weight rested against one of his hips. Just the feel of her in his arms was enough to have the ache of missing her lessening. “How are you, eh? Did you have a good time at Uncle Arthur’s?”

She nodded, long dark hair swinging with her movements. “I baked brownies with Auntie Linda.”

“You did?”

“Hey kiddo,” Lucy stretched up on her toes to place a kiss to Ruby’s cheek after handing her coat off to Frances.

“Hi, Lucy!” Ruby beamed at her, and Tommy felt his heart swell. There was a time, he knew, that Lucy had been afraid that Ruby would hate her, given her complicated relationship with her mother. He couldn’t have been more grateful that wasn’t the case. He was pretty sure his sweet girl was incapable of hating anyone.

Amazing; how something containing such kindness and purity could ever have come from him.

The click of heels on the floor was his only warning to another figure approaching before Lizzie rounded the corner. Her head was held high, dress swishing around her ankles, hair styled meticulously in dark waves around her face. She did not smile when she saw him.

Quiet stretched on between them all. Finally, he forced himself to awkwardly clear his throat.

“Lizzie.”

“Tommy.” She said his name as if speaking the word was like swiping a razor along the inside of her throat.

Swallowing, he set Ruby down on the floor, bending so that he was at her level. “Ruby, why don’t you take Lucy to the kitchens and show her what Aunt Linda taught you, eh?”

“Yeah! Okay!” She tottered two steps forward to latch eagerly onto Lucy’s hand and begin pulling her along. Lucy shot him a puzzled look, eyes darting between him and Lizzie. Clearly wondering what he intended on saying in her absence.

Don’t worry, he pushed the thought to her gently. Something clicked behind Lucy’s eyes as she realized what this was all about. She raised an eyebrow, giving him a look.

Don’t be too hard on her.

I won’t. Promise.

She looked only half convinced, but let Ruby tug her away without complaint. Tommy waited until he could no longer hear the clatter of Ruby’s shoes on the floorboards before speaking.

“Where’s Charlie?”

“In the library, finishing up his homework.” Lizzie took a step towards him. “Tommy, listen–”

“He overheard.”

She froze. “What?”

“He overheard what you said about Lucy to Polly and Linda. And then he got mad, and repeated it to her.”

Her lips parted, eyes widening. A look of mild horror settled on her features, and the sight of it brought Tommy an odd sense of relief. That was confirmation that she hadn’t been purposefully whispering poison into his children’s ears, then.

“Oh…” Lizzie said, throat flexing as she swallowed. “What did he say?”

“He said that she’s just my whore. That everybody hates her.” The words tasted metallic as he released them, just hearing them again making him momentarily furious with her. But he breathed in deep through his nose and forced himself to remain calm.

Lizzie looked away, down at the floor. “Shit. I’m sorry, Tommy. He was never meant to hear that.” She shifted from foot to foot, not really meeting his eyes. “At least it wasn’t that bad…”

“Not that bad!? He made Lucy cry!”

Lizzie said nothing to that, still staring down at her shoes. Tommy shook his head, fishing into his pocket for his cigarettes.

Wait.

He’d just swiped one across his lips when her words clicked, his face snapping up to bore his eyes into her.

“Fucking hell, what else have you said about her for that to be considered not bad!?”

Lizzie still wouldn’t meet his gaze. “Are things between her and Charlie…?” she trailed off, pointedly not answering his question.

Tommy studied her a moment more, lighter clicking to raise the flame to his cigarette before answering. “They’re fine. I managed to smooth things over. He was just having a tantrum; he didn’t really mean any of it. And he’s apologized.”

“Good.” The plain relief on Lizzie’s face had him considering her. For all her faults, she had always been understanding and respectful of just how much his children meant to Lucy.

“You should never have said those things about her.” He took a long drag of his cigarette. “You need to apologize too.”

Her lips pressed together. “I’m sorry that he overheard that, Tommy, really. But…”

“But what?”

“But I’m not sorry for what I said.”

His fingers tightened around his cigarette. “Why not?”

Her jaw clenched, chin raising. “Because it’s the truth, that’s why. Everybody despises her, Tommy. You don’t hear how they talk about her when they know you’re not listening. She’s nothing but your whore. Your mistress–”

“Don’t you dare talk about her like that–”

“I will talk about her anyway that I fucking please. I’ll do it out of the children’s earshot, but I won’t swallow my opinions just because it might hurt her feelings.”

“She hasn’t even done anything to you!”

“She’s fucking my husband!” Lizzie burst out. “She’s fucking my husband when she knows I’m not alright with it. You may have decided that she can do no wrong, but that doesn’t change the fact that she has chosen, over and over, for years, to hurt me by staying with you. I think that I ought to be allowed to be upset about that, and to say whatever I like about it when in the company of my friends and family.”

“Lizzie–”

“I have let you two carry on as you have! I’ve let you do that, Tommy! Even though it kills me. I have…tried to be at least cordial with her. I know that I don’t always succeed, and I am sorry for that. And I am sorry that Charlie overheard. I’d never intend to turn the kids against her. But I have feelings, Tommy! I have to get them out somewhere. Better with Polly and Linda, rather than to her face.”

“Doesn’t seem to fucking work though, does it? All the hateful things that you say always get back to her eventually.”

“You know what? Fuck you, Tommy.” He saw some of the ice-cold contempt that had been blazing in her eyes when she left for Arthur’s days ago ignite once more. “I don’t want to hear it,” she started for the door to one of the sitting rooms.

“Oi! We aren’t fucking finished here,” he moved to follow her, and she rounded on him.

“What more do you want!? I said I’ll fucking apologize! Now leave me the fuck alone! It’s the least you could do.”

“Why the hell did you come back then if you didn’t want to be around us, eh!?”

“Because your daughter kept asking for you,” she sneered furiously. “And I knew that sooner or later, you’d drag us back here anyway to have her close.” She took a step nearer to him. In her heels, she was taller than him, if only by an inch or two. “I didn’t come back because I’m no longer upset. Or because I forgive either of you. I don’t. I never will.”

“Forgive us for what, Lizzie!? For sticking to the agreement that the three of us made which you then decided to change your mind about?”

Her throat convulsed, and for just a moment, her eyes seemed to glimmer tearily. “We could have had an actual chance at being happy,” her voice suddenly dropped to a desolate whisper. “If she wasn’t here.”

He wanted to shake her. How could she not understand? He couldn’t be happy without Lucy.

“If you really believe that, then you don’t know me at all.”

Her bottom lip trembled, cracks beginning to form in the hatred molding to her face, giving way to heartbreak.

Before he could say anything more, she whirled on her heel and stormed out the door.

∗ ∗ ∗

Lizzie found Lucy sitting alone, head propped up on one hand while she considered the chess board before her. She was playing herself, Lizzie could see. Moving both the black and white pieces around the board. Trouble was curled in her lap, asleep.

She hadn’t really spoken to Lucy since she and Tommy had arrived home. The kids had monopolized their attention for most of the evening; Ruby in particular was eager to play with Lucy and her father after going so long without seeing them. Lizzie had been fine with leaving them to it. In all honesty, she could use the break after having to manage Ruby mostly on her own. And after their conversation about what Charlie said to Lucy, she would rather have not been in the same room as Tommy anyway.

He’d retreated into his office to take care of some business after they’d put the kids to bed, leaving her and Lucy to their own devices.

Taking a tentative step forward, she forced herself to open her mouth.

“Lucy?”

The redhead looked up, and Lizzie could see the wariness that immediately entered her face upon catching sight of her. It was a look that she saw crossing Lucy’s face more and more whenever they interacted.

Lizzie supposed she couldn’t entirely blame her for that.

She gestured to the chess board. “Do you…want someone to play with?”

Lucy blinked, that wariness still not quite leaving her face. “Sure.” She started to move the pieces back into their starting positions on the board while Lizzie took the seat across from her, examining the little carved pieces of black and white wood. Lucy had whittled and painted each one herself, along with the board.

Once all the pieces were set up, she took hold of one of the white pawns on her side of the board, sliding it forward.

“I’m sorry,” she finally forced herself to say the words when they were about halfway through the game. Most of her white pieces had been swept from the board by Lucy’s black ones. Not surprising. She had never taken to chess all that well. Usually, Lucy went easy on her.

She felt Lucy’s large brown eyes jerk upwards to stare into her face.

“For what Charlie said. I didn’t…he wasn’t supposed to overhear that.”

Lucy looked back down at the board. She had one arm crossed over her chest, hand folded against the opposite bicep. Like she was holding an imaginary shield between them. “I figured.”

Lizzie nodded. At least Lucy’s opinion of her hadn’t sunk that low, then. “Still, I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine,” Lucy kept her eyes focused on the pieces, moving her queen to take one of Lizzie’s bishops. “It worked itself all out. I’m sorry that Tommy got on your case about it.”

“He’s just protecting you.” She hated herself for being unable to wholly mask the bitterness that underlaid her words. A guilty look crossed Lucy’s face, her head dipping slightly and her shoulders drawing in as if bracing for a slap. On her next move, she pulled one of her bishops back, leaving her rook open for Lizzie to take with one of her knights.

She wondered if Lucy had let her take the piece on purpose.

“How were things at Arthur’s?” Lucy asked, clearly eager to change the subject. Lizzie hesitated. There were a lot of things that Linda had told her in confidence that she was not eager to share. Everyone knew that anything that was told to Lucy would make its way back to Tommy.

“Things aren’t good between him and Linda,” she finally settled on saying.

“What’s she upset about now?”

Lizzie worried at her bottom lip. “Everything, really. Truth be told, going there wasn’t much of an improvement from being here.” She should have gone to Polly or Ada’s instead. But she had been afraid that both of them would try to talk her out of any ruminations she had about divorce. Linda, at the very least, had understood her feelings on that front. “Only difference was that I wasn’t the one doing the arguing.”

“Mm.” Lucy made a sound of sympathy, taking one of Lizzie’s knights with her remaining rook. “I am glad that you’re home.”

“You don’t have to lie.”

Lucy cocked her head. “I’m not. Look…I didn’t miss any of the fighting, but…the house feels empty without you and Ruby in it.”

“We may not be here for very long.”

That wariness that had mostly melted away from Lucy’s face while they played returned. “What do you mean?”

Lizzie plucked up the little white envelope that she had set down in her lap while they played. She turned it over twice in her hands, examining her own looping handwriting of Tommy’s name scrawled in black ink on the back of it. Holding it between two fingers, like she would a cigarette, she held it out to Lucy.

“Will you give him this for me?”

Lucy eyed the envelope as if Lizzie had just held out a hand grenade to her. She supposed in a way, that she had. She took it with her pale, lightly freckled fingers, handling the envelope gingerly while she examined it.

“What…?”

“Linda and I talked a lot. We thought that writing down everything that we need to say would be better than actually trying to say it. She’s written one to Arthur. Well…technically I think that she’s written two. She hadn’t decided which one to give to him yet when I left.”

Lucy turned the envelope over in her hands, brows furrowed. “Lizzie, what’s in this letter?”

She picked up one of the black rooks she’d taken, rolling it between her fingers. “Just make sure that he gets it, yeah?”

She could feel Lucy’s deep brown gaze on her, could imagine the way that the irises shifted a little from side to side as they tried to decipher what was going on inside her head. “Okay.”

“Thank you.”

Lucy nodded, slipping the envelope into the inner pocket of her suit jacket. Lizzie brought her bishop sliding across the board.

“Check.”

“I can send him to you tonight, if you’d like,” Lucy offered. Lizzie could only bring herself to look at her face for a fraction of a second before she had to look back at the chess pieces again. Anything to not have to stare at that sad, guilty look emblazoned across Lucy’s face. She shook her head.

“I doubt he’s going to want to spend the night with me after he reads what’s in that letter.”

Truth be told, a lot of the enjoyment from sleeping with Tommy had long since faded away. Physically, it was still good–the man was nothing if not very talented at what he did–but it was hard to ever fully enjoy herself when she knew that he would rather be with her. Lizzie could feel it, the disconnect between them a living, ever present thing in the spaces between them. Even when he was with her, in the most intimate of positions two people could be in, he wasn’t really with her. He always left all the important parts of himself in the other room, with Lucy.

If only the little red head in front of her wasn’t around…

She shook the thought away. That wasn’t what she wanted. Not really. For all her faults, at least Lucy tried. Certainly more than Tommy ever did. It was her, who more often than not kept Lizzie company on nights like this one. When Tommy was too enthralled with his work to be bothered to pay her any mind.

In a way, it only made Lizzie more angry with her. It would have been so much easier to hate her if she had been cruel and unapologetic in her actions.

For a time, at the beginning of her marriage to Tommy, Lizzie had hated her. She had hated her so bloody much, she nearly choked on it. But over time the feeling had…not quite faded, but scabbed over. It was hard to maintain hatred like that for so long. Especially when the person it was directed towards went out of her way to be so bloody nice and accommodating so much of the time.

Sometimes it still returned, the scab ripping off for fresh blood and agony to flow forth. And with it, the poison inside her leaked out, boiling over to spill from her lips in the form of vile curses and words. Things she may have meant in the moment, but not later. Not after she’d gotten a leash back on the jealousy that raged in her heart.

In those moments when the venom flowed forth, the looks that Lucy would give her, like that of a kicked animal, only served to make Lizzie hate her even more. Because how dare she make her feel guilty for hurting her? When she was the one who had hurt Lizzie first by stealing her husband.

But can you really steal what was already yours? What was given freely? How could she say that Lucy had stolen Tommy from her, when he had never even been hers to begin with?

Her fury was directed at Tommy too, often even more so. She suspected that was by design, on his part. His attempt to shield Lucy from her wrath and the hurtful jabs that came with it as much as possible. Yet another expression of his oh so precious, undying love for her.

Once she’d gotten it all out, the anger and resentment would scab over once more. It was in those moments that she grew as close as she could to accepting the arrangement between herself, her husband, and his lover. She and Lucy could even be considered something close to being friends.

And then they’d go through the entire cycle again.

She wondered if the scab would ever fully heal. She hoped that someday it would.

What she would give, to be at peace with her life and her choices. To be content.

But she knew that a part of her, no matter how small, would always resent Lucy.

“Do you mind if I also read it?” Lucy asked, drawing her from her thoughts. She’d moved her knight to counter Lizzie’s check on the chessboard.

“That’s fine.” She knew it would likely make no difference what she wanted; Tommy would tell her its contents either way.

She moved one of her pawns a space up.

Lucy moved her knight again. “Check.”

Lizzie moved her king, even though she could already see where the game was heading.

“You’re really thinking of leaving for good?”

She kept her gaze fixed on the chessboard, not wanting to meet Lucy’s analyzing eyes. “It depends on what he says about what’s in my letter.”

There was a long pause, and she found herself wishing that Lucy would just move her queen and put an end to the whole bloody game.

“Lizzie, maybe if you just give things some time…it’s a madhouse right now, with the crash and Michael coming back…”

“I’ve been giving things time since the fucking wedding, Lucy. And he still hasn’t–” she bit down hard on the words before she could say them. He still hasn’t changed.

Lucy stared at her sadly. “You’re still hoping that someday he’ll choose you over me?”

“Just play your bloody turn, Lucy.”

She hesitated, and then slid the black queen across the board. “Checkmate.” Her hand retracted, going to fidget with the other in her lap. Trouble roused at the cease in being pet, raising her head with a questioning meow. “Do you want to play again?”

“No,” Lizzie rose from her chair. Divorce or not, she doubted she would have to wait long to be free of them. She had watched these past few years as Tommy slipped further and further out onto a precipice, his mind almost fully lost to his own ambition. And when he finally went over the edge, he’d take Lucy right along with him. She truly believed that he wouldn’t be alive within two years’ time.

It startled her, a little, how the thought brought with it no sorrow or grief, but simply a feeling of deep, potent relief.

“I think I’m just going to go to bed.”

That infuriating guilt was shining in Lucy’s eyes again. She had to bite down on her tongue to keep from lashing out at the sight of it. Despite everything, she had meant what she said to Tommy about trying to be cordial with Lucy.

“Lizzie, you know that if you ever wanted to, the three of us could…” Lucy trailed off, biting her lip. Not needing to finish the sentence for Lizzie to know what she was referring to.

They’d made it clear that the offer was always open, if she wanted to share a bed with both of them again, rather than just Tommy. And she understood that, in a somewhat stunted way, Lucy’s offer was an attempt at comfort; at maybe even consolidation, for the situation that they’d found themselves in.

“Not tonight, Lucy.”

She saw a flicker of disappointment cross Lucy’s features, but she merely nodded, clearly having expected the answer, not pushing it any further. “Goodnight, then.”

“Goodnight.”

She just got to the door before Lucy called for her again. “Lizzie.” She was still sitting at the chessboard, one hand trailing her fingertips across the golden rings she was wearing on the other hand she had resting on Trouble’s patchy black and orange fur. Her red-painted bottom lip was caught between her teeth. “Is there anything that I can do?”

Yes: Leave. And never come back. “No.”

“But maybe–”

“Lucy,” she cut her off before she could say anymore, gesturing to the board. “Even when you go easy on me, it’s you who always wins.”

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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!

#tommy shelby #peaky blinders #lucy winters #tommy shelby x oc #lucy winters x tommy shelby #my ocs #my fanfiction #lily writes #love me where i'm most ruined #peaky blinder fanfic #peaky blinders oc #tommy shelby fanfic

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dontmixpaintinyourcoffee · 7 months ago

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More Lodgers! I think Mosley is my favorite of this batch, both pose and design-wise. I'm drawing them in order of introduction, and it's almost like a cool little Easter egg hunt looking for different angles and full-body panels of characters that don't show up a ton.

(Edit! I updated the drawings, it not matching the other set was bothering me)

Thoughts under the cut again

Back at it again with the goggles and gloves! Except for Mr. Griffin which is interesting. Could be for lots of reasons, like pulling descriptions from The Invisible Man, or maybe his work doesn't require a lot of physical risk, or maybe they just didn't want all the Lodgers to feel too samey. He's still aligned with the Lodgers aesthetically through the apron, which Bird also wears. Neat! I'm very entertained by the different types of eyewear too. Some have goggles, some have binoculars, and some have layers of magnifiers like jeweler's glasses (of course I always think of the Toy Story 2 scene). I'm sure some of them have super specialized equipment too, like Maijabi probably has some sort of spectral filter lens or something.

God what I would give to pick Sage Cotugno's brain about some of these designs because I am fascinated by Mosley. They technically didn't have to go through and give each lodger such a strong sense of personality but I adore that they did! Mosley in particular reminds me of Mole from Atlantis, with the scarf and the multi-layered goggles and the digging. And Helsby wouldn't be out of place at the Benbow Inn! Know that I mean this as incredibly high praise, I could talk about the designs in Treasure Planet for days. Point is that both those movies have an incredibly strong visual identity, primarily through the character designs and architecture, and this comic feels the same way to me.

My personal favorite rogue scientist is next up! I love her design so much and I'm so excited to draw her. Also, how in the hell do you end up with "make spy bugs" as your job?? And where can I sign up?? Miss Flowers please

Mosley has my favorite pose but Griffin has my favorite face. Look at him. Grouchy bastard

I realize that I've been labeling all the Lodgers as "doctor" but it's entirely possible that some of them probably don't have doctorates. Y'know. The thing that makes you a doctor. Then again Frankenstein dropped out of college and we all call him "Dr" so I don't see why these fine people shouldn't get the same respect! Dunno if this applies to Victoria Frankenstein though. She's crazy enough to have also finished college while all the other shit was happening.

(yes I know that Frankenstein technically had all the knowledge and the expertise and was miles ahead of literally everybody else and only dropped out because he was busy proving that death is merely a temporary state and God means nothing in the face of human ingenuity and all that, but the bastard still didn't graduate and also he's an asshole so I'm gonna pick on him)

#coffeepaintart #tgs lodgers #tgs #the glass scientists #circus of hubris ridden victorian british men

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wireveined · 8 months ago

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when my favorite character is in like 5 panels and speaks once ^_^

#mr mosley tgs #tgs #the glass scientists #tgs comic #I LOVE HIMMMMM #my husband btw. if you even care

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sansaorgana · 18 days ago

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— DINNER AT THE SHELBYS

🚨 This fanfic is a repost from 08 Apr 2022 from my different blog. I kept the Author's Note and everything from the fic the same as it was back then.

PAIRING — Jack Nelson x fem!Reader

SUMMARY — Before you go back to Boston, you spend a night at the Shelby’s with your husband. What was supposed to be a nice dinner, turns out to be a one huge mess when he gets drunk on whiskey and two uninvited guests join you by the table.

AUTHOR’S NOTE [08 Apr 2022] — In S06E01 Tommy tells Michael that Jack takes his wife and lover to the UK and we actually never saw them, which is a shame... Or actually not LOL Anyway, me being me, there’s a fic. I wouldn’t call Reader a nice person but she absolutely hates Mosley and Diana. Jack is a cheater (like in canon, I guess).

WORD COUNT — 3,660

ENGLISH IS MY SECOND LANGUAGE.

DINNER AT THE SHELBYS

When you arrived at the Arrow House it was already dark outside and it was a head-maid with Mrs. Shelby greeting you in the hall. She didn’t look very happy to see you and your husband but you decided to ignore it since she was a woman in a state of mourning.

“My husband is not home yet,” she informed you. “He will meet you at dinner. We serve at eight.”

“Thank you,” you forced a smile in her direction and followed the maid upstairs to your guest bedroom.

It was quite impressive, you had to admit. And your bags were already waiting for you there.

“Mr. and Mrs. Nelson,” the maid bowed her head a little before leaving the room. “If you need anything, I am at your disposal.”

“Yes, thank you,” you nodded your head and watched her close the door.

You sighed and crouched down in front of your bags to take out all the things you needed before taking a shower while Jack kept staring outside the window.

“Huh?” you asked him.

“He’s got lots of land,” your husband pointed out.

“Yeah, so?” you straightened your back. “It’s a shithole. We’re in the middle of fucking nowhere.”

“You don’t like this house?” Jack turned around to look at you and he smirked.

“It’s dark and kinda scary. You seen the portrait by the staircase? It’s of his dead wife. Gave me creeps, honestly!” you rolled your eyes and then you lowered your voice. “Haven’t seen the portrait of the current one, though.”

“You’re looking for a sensation as usual,” Jack sighed and shook his head but he let out a chuckle before putting his hands into his pockets. “Can’t wait to get off that fucking island.”

“Me too,” you agreed. “Can’t wait to see the kids and be back home. People here are so awful, Jack. But at least your niece had lots of fun. Poor thing, she didn’t realize they were all making fun of her.”

“Gina’s not very bright, that’s a fact,” Jack shrugged his arms and sat down on a sofa. “But she’s pretty, which is useful.”

“Oh, and I am not?” you laughed and approached the sofa to stand above him.

“You’re the prettiest, you know that, doll,” Jack grinned and extended his hand to squeeze yours.

“I’m going to take a shower now. Do you think I should wear a black dress?” you asked.

“You don’t have to,” Jack shrugged his arms. “I mean, let’s brighten up the mood a little.”

“I don’t want to be inappropriate either,” you rolled your eyes and approached the door leading to the bathroom.

“Since when do you care?” your husband snorted at that. “I’m glad we’re getting off that fucking island ‘cause you’re becoming boring like them.”

“Excuse me?!” you put your hands on your hips. “Since you’re a businessman, Jack, since you’re a businessman…!” you protested but didn’t care about the answer. You disappeared in the bathroom instead.

Twenty minutes later you went back to the bedroom and saw Jack reading some book while laying on the sofa with his legs on the backrest.

“Shoes,” you pointed at his feet but he didn’t react in any way.

You laid down on the silky sheets and let out a small moan. That finally brought his attention as he raised an eyebrow at you from above the book.

“Oh, fuck me, Jack. Have you felt the sheets? I bet they imported them from Shanghai. That’s where he’s making the drug business, isn’t it?” you caressed the soft material.

“Well, we can order the same ones,” he shrugged his arms and glanced at his watch. “We don’t have much time. Dress up.”

“What dress, Jack?” you whined and left the bed lazily.

“Yellow.”

“Don’t be stupid! That would be highly inappropriate,” you scolded him.

“It’s the color of mourning in Egypt,” he sat up and put the book down.

“And how the fuck do you know?!” you laughed at him and opened the bag with dresses.

“I know things.”

“Not a day without you surprising me with some random shit,” you sighed and decided to take out the red one. Jack laughed. “What?” you asked him and furrowed your brow.

“Red is not inappropriate, doll?” he teased.

“That bitch Diana Mitford criticized it, remember?” you gritted your teeth. “She told me it screamed cheap.”

“I doubt the Shelbys would mind cheap,” Jack shrugged his arms.

“Exactly,” you pointed a finger at him and nodded. “I’m really glad we won’t have to see all those people again… Because we won’t, right?” you furrowed your brow at him and took your robe off.

“I don’t know, baby,” Jack sighed. “I’ve told you. It’s business.”

“I like how that Mosley guy treats you,” you admitted. “He’s not showing disrespect, he’s showing off in front of you. Never thought I’d have an English upper class dickhead bootlicking me,” you winked and stepped between the folds of the dress’ fabrics. “Button me up, baby?”

Jack stood up to help you with the dress. When he finished his work with all the buttons he leaned in to place a kiss on the base of your neck that sent shivers down your spine.

“Oh, Jack,” you giggled and put your head back to caress his head.

“You look beautiful,” he murmured into your ear and placed his hands on your waist. “You always do, wherever we are. You’re the prettiest in the room.”

“Jack…!” you chuckled. “Can you just promise me one thing?”

“Yes, doll?”

“Don’t drink too much whiskey tonight, alright? Pretty please.”

“Fuck wine, whiskey!” Jack interrupted his story about Gina and barked at the butler that was about to serve him the liquor. His fist banged the table and you flinched at that a little while giving Mr. and Mrs. Shelby an apologetic look. “Shelby, you having whiskey?”

“Jack…” you hissed at him and kicked his calf under the table.

“I’ll stay on wine,” Mr. Shelby answered.

“Fuck wine! More whiskey. I’m celebrating,” Jack explained and you rolled your eyes at that.

You didn’t know why some part of you wanted to impress those people. You didn’t feel this way with all the upper class bastards but somehow you wanted to impress the Shelbys. Perhaps it was caused by the fact that they were the same kin as you and Jack. There was a silent competition between the two working class self made families about who had achieved more.

Who had become more posh.

You looked at Mrs. Shelby from the corner of your eye. Jack told you about her past but she looked like a proper lady. She deserved a huge portrait in that house, you thought.

“Celebration, you know. Getting off this fucking island,” Jack continued and you sighed ostentatiously. “You see, the thing with England, the currency here, it’s not money,” he started to explain while waving his hand and you looked down, embarrassed by his little stunt. “Nah, you got bored of money a long time ago. Cos you know, anyone can have money, you can fucking…” he stopped to look up at the butler with a glass of whiskey in his hand.

Jack pointed at the table and the butler put the glass down.

“Actually, I want more wine,” you whispered to the man and he nodded.

“...you can fucking find money in the mud. You can forge money,” Jack went back to his speech and you took the glass of wine from the butler and sipped on it. “Mr. Shelby, you can steal money, am I right?” your husband looked at Mr. Shelby and you coughed, choking on the wine.

“Jack…” you hissed once again. It was awful how awkward he was making the whole evening and the reason behind that was the golden liquor in his glass.

“The currency here… it’s blood,” he ignored you because of course he did. He always did in situations like this. A short silence occurred. “And Mr. Shelby knows that better than all of them. Blood here is like wine,” Jack pointed at the bottle standing on the table and you furrowed your brow at Mrs. Shelby.

She was moving uncomfortably but you couldn’t quite understand why. Of course, the situation was a bit embarrassing but she looked like she was about to run out of the room at any given moment. You also noticed how she was sitting far away from her husband. There was definitely something shady going on there.

“...like the vintage wine in that bottle. It’s the… It’s the label, it’s the terroir, it’s the grape that makes the wine,” Jack rambled on and all his gesticulation meant that he had just started. He was a charismatic man, of course he was, but it was not good when mixed with alcohol. “Who fucking cares about the glass around it?” he looked at unbothered Mr. Shelby. “And you, my friend, you’re an American. You fucking smash the glass!” Jack banged his fist on the table once again, this time with so much force that all the dinnerware clattered. You could feel your cheeks burning out of embarrassment. “You spill the blood and you spend their currency to get what you want. Am I right?” Jack asked with a smirk.

But there was no answer, of course, because why would it be after such a speech. You cleared your throat out loud.

“When you come to America, I will show you things,” Jack pointed his finger at Mr. Shelby and Mrs. Shelby raised her head, alarmed. Apparently she had no idea about it so you went back to sipping on your wine and observing.

You loved the drama.

“You’re going to America?” she asked her husband.

“To Canada, Lizzie, to collect the payment for the shipment,” Mr. Shelby explained to her. “I need to do it myself.”

“And who will be going with you?” she asked and you furrowed your brow.

You found it weird that they had been discussing such matters by the table around strangers. Jack was usually telling you about his business when you were alone in the bedroom.

“Michael will be there to watch his back,” Jack answered her but you kicked him under the table to shut up. You wanted more of a drama between Mr. and Mrs. Shelby.

“Another journey, Tommy?” Mrs. Shelby leaned in to her husband.

“Five million, Mrs. Shelby,” you faked a smile at her, “It’s worth a little cruise, don’t you think?”

You wanted to stir in the pot and you had succeeded because Mrs. Shelby’s eyes widened a little after realizing that you had known about everything.

Well, you didn’t know about lots of things. But you knew about some.

“Anyway,” you cleared your throat and changed the topic, playing with the glass of wine in your hand as you laid your eyes on Mr. Shelby. He was quite attractive, you had to admit. “I’ve heard you were born on a boat, Mr. Shelby?” you asked and there was no response.

God, these people were really fucking stiff.

“I was born on a boat, too,” you told him and he raised his eyebrows. “On a ship,” you specified. “On a ship to America. Many people here think America is made up. There’s not such a thing as an American, Mrs. Nelson. I’ve heard that a lot during the boring parties with all those lords and ladies,” you winced. “You, Europeans, you prefer to think that an American is actually an European or an African or an Asian – someone who came there on a ship. But I am a real American, Mr. Shelby. I was born on a fucking boat to parents who didn’t speak English, with no money in their pockets,” you put the glass down and extended your hands towards Mr. Shelby. “Look. Not at the golden rings. Look at my hands,” you opened them. “They're the hands of a working class girl. I am proud of that, Mr. Shelby. But people here, they looked with disgust. I refused to wear gloves.”

He only blinked a few times at your hands and then at you. Probably thought you were as crazy as your husband. Perhaps you were.

“What do you think, Mr. Shelby…” you sighed and took your hands away. “All those Europeans I have met here, are they saying America is made up out of ignorance or… fear? Do they fear what America might become?”

“I didn’t know you were interested in geopolitics, Mrs. Nelson,” Mr. Shelby smiled at you in a patronizing way.

“Look, Jack,” you pushed your husband’s elbow. “He’s just like all of them. Just like the rest.”

Mr. and Mrs. Shelby moved uncomfortably and Jack snorted at that while sipping on his whiskey.

“Mr. Shelby, there’s a car coming up the drive,” a maid interrupted you suddenly. “A Rolls-Royce. Were you expecting more guests?”

“No,” Mr. Shelby shook his head, surprised. Then he took his cigarette out of the ashtray and a sip of wine. “Excuse me,” he looked at you and left the dining room to check the source of trouble.

“I love your dress, Mrs. Shelby,” you told her casually and finished your glass of wine. She only nodded at you, a bit taken aback.

“Thank you, Mrs. Nelson.”

You squinted your eyes at her. She didn’t compliment you back.

“Shh,” you grabbed Jack’s wrist and looked at the door. “I can hear the voices,” you furrowed your brow. “Oh God, no… It’s them.”

“We came to say one last farewell,” Oswald Mosley walked inside the room with a huge grin on his face. You rolled your eyes and then you clenched your jaw at the sight of Lady Diana Mitford following him inside. She had a gorgeous gown on and she smirked at you with a mix of pity and resentment. She really hated that red dress of yours. “It isn’t that I wasn’t sure Mr. Shelby would give you an excellent send-off…” Mosley started as Diana sat next to you. You instinctively moved a bit closer to your husband. “I just felt, since telegrams and wires and letters can be easily intercepted,” he sat down next to Mrs. Shelby and leaned back comfortably like he was at his own home, “we might confirm all that we’ve achieved during your visit over champagne,” he looked at Jack.

“Actually, we weren’t supposed to discuss business tonight, Mr. Mosley,” you faked a smile at him.

Now it was Jack kicking your calf under the table. You kicked him back.

“Well, Mrs. Nelson is right. We can talk about different things,” Diana smirked. “It is remarkable how quickly our relationships have developed. So many triangles in this room,” she added mysteriously. “Everyone except for Mr. and Mrs. Nelson is the point of a triangle,” she looked at Mrs. Shelby.

You pointed your finger at the empty glass in your hand to signalize to the butler that you wanted more. Apparently, the drama was just about to start.

“How am I part of a triangle?” Mrs. Shelby asked while taking a drag of her cigarette.

“Mr. Nelson, you have all that you came for?” Mosley asked your husband and the butler poured you more wine.

“I have confirmation that the future of Europe is in the hands of men like yourselves,” Jack’s voice became serious despite all the whiskey in his blood system. You often had a feeling that Jack was sometimes pretending to be more drunk than he truly was.

“And that urgent conversations between Washington, Rome and of course Berlin can now begin,” Mosley nodded. “A two-week visit that may have changed the course of history,” he grabbed the glass of champagne.

“We have all got what we wanted,” Jack raised his hands.

“Yes,” Diana nodded with her eyes focused on Mr. Shelby and Mr. Shelby only. You squeezed Jack’s thigh under the table and brought his attention to her with the movement of your eyes. “And I got what I have wanted from the moment I set my eyes on it.”

Mr. Shelby looked down and blinked a few times, avoiding her gaze. Mrs. Shelby looked at him and you pursed your lips.

“Elizabeth,” Diana addressed her, “you are a very lucky woman to have each day what I have only sampled once.”

The heavy silence and awkwardness made it really difficult for you to keep a poker face on. Jack grinned like crazy as well.

But it was easy for him to grin. He was a man.

He was a cheater.

Mrs. Shelby put the cigarette down and hurried out of the dining room. You decided to follow her as some part of you pitied her but the other part just wanted to hear even more gossip.

“Excuse me, I have to go to the bathroom,” you smiled at everyone in a fake way and went outside.

You turned around after hearing rapid footsteps. You followed them and found yourself in the hall upstairs. She was on her way to their bedroom.

“Mrs. Shelby?” you asked and she froze, slowly turning around.

“Yes?” she furrowed her brow. You could see her wet eyes even in the dim light surrounding you both.

“You let her win,” you told her and she clenched her jaw. “You let that bitch win, you showed her you were hurt.”

“I’m sorry, Mrs. Nelson, but you are not in a position to…”

“Jack fucked every whore in London,” you interrupted her and she closed her mouth. “These women, they’re all the same – they wear the same smirks, they use the same tones. More than one of them back in Boston has done the same thing to me. They want you to know that they fucked your husband.”

“How can you live with that, Mrs. Nelson?”

You shrugged your arms.

“All men cheat, it’s a fact. Men are whores,” you explained. “It’s better to accept that, Mrs. Shelby.”

“So what would you tell that bitch?”

“I don’t know… I would pretend that I knew about it, that it doesn’t bother me. I’d give a snarky remark if I was in the mood,” you chuckled. “But at the end of the day…” you started with a sigh.

“You’re hurt?”

“No,” you shook your head. “What I wanted to say is that at the end of the day Jack is my husband. I know that he loves me.”

“I know that Thomas cheats,” she stated and leaned on the wall before crossing her arms. “We have a difficult relationship, I had to accept that. But something about her…”

“She’s a spoiled brat. Always gets what she wants,” you rolled your eyes.

“I expected you to be like her,” Mrs. Shelby confessed suddenly and you clenched your jaw.

“No, she’s more like her,” you pointed at the huge portrait behind you. “Anyway, good night, Mrs. Shelby.”

“Good night, Mrs. Nelson,” she drawled out and walked away.

You sighed and went downstairs, only to bump into Mr. Shelby on your way. Apparently, the dinner was over.

“Mr. Shelby,” you smiled at him.

“Mrs. Nelson,” he nodded.

“I’ve just tried to explain to your wife but I am afraid she’s still very mad at you,” you told him and he furrowed his brow.

“Explain to her…?”

“Oh, you know, not to take it personal,” you waved your hand in a dismissive manner. “Good night, Mr. Shelby,” you patted his arm and left him alone at the hall after spotting your husband downstairs.

“Where were you?” Jack asked. “Let’s go to sleep. The faster we go to sleep, the sooner we wake up and leave that fucking island.”

“You’re all the same, Jack,” you mumbled. “Whores.”

“What? Jesus, woman, you got drunk,” he laughed and shook his head before putting his arm around you to lead you back upstairs.

“You got drunk, actually,” you started after entering your bedroom and Jack sighed before loosening his tie and discarding his jacket on the armchair. “And I was embarrassed.”

“Come on,” he rolled his eyes and laid down on the bed.

“Take off your fucking shoes,” you barked at him and he groaned before removing them with his own feet to kick them away. You took your own heels off and laid next to him to stare at the ceiling. “They really fucked, huh? You knew about it?”

“I don’t fucking care,” Jack shrugged his arms.

“She looked very pleased. You think he fucks good?” you bit your lower lip.

“I don’t know. You think he does?” Jack turned his head around to look at your face.

“I think he used to fuck good back in the day. But not anymore. He looks very tired and he’s not that young. By the way… He did that right after his daughter died…?” you furrowed your brow.

“Sick fucker,” Jack chuckled and you pushed him with your elbow.

“Either way, maybe he didn’t fuck her. Maybe she was the one to fuck him. You think she was the one to fuck him?” you giggled and Jack rolled his eyes.

“I don’t know, maybe,” he sat up and started unbuttoning his shirt. “We should go to sleep now.”

“Yeah, we should,” you sat up as well and hugged him from the back. “Jack?” you whispered into his ear.

“Huh?”

“I love you.”

He froze for a second as your confession seemed to be a bit out of place.

“I love you, too, doll,” he held your hand. “I love you, too.”

“And only me?”

“Only you. You know what I’m like but I love only you,” he assured.

MASTERLIST

#jack nelson x reader #lilysfiction

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