#fanfictionhub

[mrschangrettawrites]

Feel Like This

Summary: You came to Stephen an eager student, and he would never be the same again.

Words: 3220

Pairing: Stephen Strange x Female!Reader

Notes: Nothing really, aside from the fact I still haven’t seen Doctor Strange. I highly highly highly recommend installing the InteractiveFics extension from the Chrome store if you can. To add your name and last name simply install the extension, then click ‘Need to replace something other than Y/N?’ and in the value bar put Name and put your name in the Replace With bar, then click change! And be sure to tick Store this replacement so that you don’t have to do it every time.

Tagging: @gameofdooweeoo @doctor-strange-thirst-club if you want to be tagged in future chapters lmk!

Chapter One

It had been six months since you had arrived at the Sanctum, and while initially Stephen had been reluctant to let you in, he was glad he did.

You had arrived as a pilgrim of sorts, seeking out ‘arcane knowledge’ as you had put it.

“If you wish to learn the Mystic Arts-” Stephen had begun to say, but you cut him off.

“I have my own magic.” And with that you stretched out an arm, and formed a sphere that seemed to be made out of smoke in your palm. “I was born with it.” You had said, in answer to Stephen’s unspoken question. “But I want to learn. Please, just let me learn.”

And who was Stephen to turn away a willing student?

Almost instantly you became a source of fascination and curiosity to everyone within the Sanctum, from the greenest apprentice to the most experienced master. None of them had ever seen power like yours, and to learn that it was a natural gift was an even bigger surprise. You denied being a mutant, which left everyone wondering how you came to acquire your powers.

“I stopped asking that question a long time ago.” Was your reply whenever you were asked.

Stephen personally took you under his wing, as he saw it as his duty as he was the Master of the New York Sanctum. He taught you everything he had learned at the Kamar Taj, trained you in martial arts and gave you books to read. While he had been unsure as to how you would adjust, to his surprise you took to it like a duck to water. Your agility was impressive, your strength and endurance moreso. And Stephen never had to ask you twice to open a book and absorb the knowledge within. It appeared that your desire to learn was genuine, and Stephen was consistently impressed by you.

This soon turned to fondness. And this in turn became love. Which left Stephen at a loss.

After Christine, Stephen began to think he was the kind of man who was ill-suited to relationships. While he had been a different person then, the thought still plagued him. That old arrogance was still there, lurking in the shadows, and even after his metamorphoses, Stephen could be hard to get on with. And then there was the issue of your age.

You were young. Far too young for a man like Stephen, at least in his opinion. He was of course aware of relationships with age gaps like the one that existed between the two of you, and ones where the gap was even more significant, but he still hesitated. He worried you saw him as being too old for you (God knew that was what he had thought at that age), or that you only saw him as a mentor. He didn’t know how he would react if he poured his heart to you, only to have you tell him that you saw him as a teacher, a guide, and nothing more.

Well, he had an idea at least. He imagined he would try and find the deepest, darkest hole he could and throw himself into it.

So he endeavoured to nip these feelings in the bud, but that proved to be far easier said than done. You were vivacious, eager, and possessed a charm that was laced with sweetness and sincerity. It was all a very dangerous combination. At least in Stephen’s opinion. It was as if the universe had purposefully sent him someone he would not help but fall in love with.

More than once he had been tempted to use the Eye to see in the future, or to peer into the other dimensions to find one where the two of were in love and happy. But he never dared. He was too afraid of what he may find.

So he told himself to be content with what he had now. No matter how difficult that may be.

“You know this really has to stop.”

Stephen turned to Wong with a raised brow and a frown. “What does?” He asked, genuinely confused.

“All of this lovesick pining you do.” Wong waved a hand, although whether it was to describe said pining or his irritation with it, Stephen didn’t know. “It was funny at first but it’s gotten really old.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Stephen replied calmly, despite the fact that he could feel his face flushing and he imagined it was only a few shades lighter than his cloak.

Wong snorted. “And I’m the queen of England.” He deadpanned. “Have you tried, you know, talking to her about it?”

“There’s nothing to talk about.”

Clearly this displeased Wong, as he gave Stephen the most withering look he had ever seen. “I don’t know if you think you’re good at faking, but I will tell you right now you’re not.” He climbed up a ladder and ran a finger along the spine of a row of books before finding the one he wanted. “And if I have to go through another day of seeing you like that I might just tell her myself.”

“No!” The suddenness of Stephen’s reply, along with how loud it was, surprised him, but Wong appeared to be unfazed. “I mean…” Stephen tried to think of something to say, but all the words he had ever learned disappeared, leaving him with a dry mouth and throat.

Wong raised his head and seemed to be far too amused for Stephen’s liking. “It won’t kill you to be honest you know.” He pointed out.

“Easy for you to say.” Stephen retorted, having re-found words. “It wouldn’t be your dignity at risk.”

“Oh I’m well aware of that. Why do you think I want you to do it so badly?” He grinned.

Now with a face definitely as red as his cloak, Stephen stormed off, leaving Wong to chortle.

Frowning, Stephen ran his eyes over the large, thick, heavy tome that sat on the desk in front of him. The cover was as black as onyx and he suspected that once it had shone and looked very grand indeed. But the lacquer had long since dried and started to peel, and the edges of the pages were so yellowed it was hard to imagine any of them had once been pure white.

Tony had found it during a raid of a HYDRA base and taken it straight to Stephen, suspecting it to be a magical artifact of some sort. Stephen could definitely something deep and old and powerful emanating from it, but he didn’t know what it was. And he didn’t know if he wanted to know.

“Stephen?”

At the sound of his name, Stephen looked over his shoulder, but he knew who had spoken. “Name. Is something wrong?”

“Wong told me Mr Stark brought something to the Sanctum.” Your eyes landed on the tome. “Is that it?”

Stephen nodded and he gestured for you to come forward. He watched as you did so, although with an apprehension he hadn’t seen since your first few days at the Sanctum and you had yet to build up your confidence. “I’m not sure what it is.” He admitted. “So be careful.”

But it appeared he needn’t had bothered to warn you, as you seemed determined to keep your distance from the possible artifact. You remained a few steps behind Stephen, your eyes boring into the tome. The look in your eyes was so unusual and foreign, at least on your face, that it took Stephen a few, very confused moments to realize what it was.

Fear.

“Everything’s perfectly fine.” He said, trying to soothe you despite what he had just said before. “You can step closer.”

But you shook your head firmly. “It-It’s alright.” You said. “So...have you read it?”

Deciding to leave you be for now, Stephen nodded. “But I can’t understand any of it.” He opened it up again, as if hoping that it would make sense this time around. But the words remained a cipher in a hand that was at times elegant, at others rushed. “Wong hasn’t come across anything like it, but he’s trying to find any information that could-are you alright?”

Your face had gone unusually pale and you looked on the brink of heaving. Without waiting for you to reply, Stephen put an arm around you to keep you steady. He quickly shed one of his gloves and pressed his hand to your forehead, grateful for the fact that he could pass the shaking off as his usual hand tremors rather than admit to it being nerves. “You’re burning up!” He said, shocked that you had managed to fall so badly under the weather so quickly.

“I’m fine.” You croaked in a manner that very clearly showed you were anything but fine.

Without a second thought, Stephen lead you out of his office to take you to your room, asking you if you had been sleeping well, how much water you had had that day, if it was that particular time of the month.

“Stephen really there’s no need to fuss!” You protested. “There’s nothing wrong!”

“Who’s the one with the medical degree here.” As Stephen went through every illness that could possibly be responsible for this sudden change in you, he hadn’t yet noticed that this was the closest the two of had ever been physically. It only occurred to him when he laid you down on your bed, and the realization hit him, along with the fact that you were lying down, gazing up at him with half lidded eyes and a half open mouth, like in so many of his dreams.

Feeling utterly mortified, Stephen managed to get out a “I’ll get you some water!” before leaving your room and almost slamming the door behind him.

As Stephen waited for his heart rate to decrease, he had his back pressed against the door, trying his very best to resist the urge to bang his head against the nearest hard surface.

‘Pull yourself together you fucking idiot!’ He scolded himself, but his heart continued to beat wildly, like a door in a hurricane.

When Stephen found you, you were sitting in an armchair in the library. It had been a few days since the incident in his office, and despite your protests Stephen gave you strict instructions to not over exert yourself, even going as far as to use his medical degree as leverage over you.

That was another thing he adored about you; your stubbornness. Which was unusual as when other people were stubborn it tended to annoy him. But your stubbornness always came from a well-meaning place, like everything else you did. You always seemed to act, first and foremost, with your heart and soul.

Apparently hearing his footsteps, you looked up from your book and gave Stephen a smile that made his knees go weak. “Stephen, did you need me for something?”

‘More than you know.’ “No, I just wanted to check on you.”

You smiled wider, making it harder for Stephen to breathe. “That’s very kind of you.”

Without warning, Stephen’s cloak flew off from his shoulders and wrapped around you, settling on your lap as if it was a beloved pet. This wasn’t the first time the cloak had done this. It appeared that it had developed fond feelings for you (the fact that it could feel anything at all still baffled Stephen), and was loathe to waste an opportunity to get close to you. The cloak was able to do just about everything Stephen wanted to do, purely by virtue of being a cloak.

You laughed, the library ringing with the sweet sound, as you gently stroked the cloak. “Did you miss me?” You cooed teasingly.

The cloak responded by nuzzling your face, making you laugh again.

Stephen smiled, feeling both elated to see you in such a state of joy, and jealous that it was his cloak making you feel that way.

(And then he felt ridiculous for being jealous of the cloak.)

That night, Stephen dreamed of you again.

His dreams of you went one of two ways.

In some, the two of you are immeasurably happy. The sun was always shining and the weather was always good and Stephen couldn’t stop smiling. He would lift you up in his arms, spin you around as you laugh and squeal in delight. You are both in your own home, with no one to bother either of you. There are no otherworldly threats to the universe. Everything smells like vanilla and cinnamon and when Stephen kisses you he tastes Eden.

He is not having one of those dreams.

This dream sees him throwing you onto his bed, climbing on top of you as his mouth latches onto your neck, alternating between kissing and biting. You mewl and cry out as you run your nails down his back, making Stephen groan.

He pulls away and looks into your eyes, hazy with lust, and holds your wrists above your head. “Bad girl.” He whispers, his lips so close to your ear that you shiver. “What have I said about scratching?”

You whine and stutter out an apology to which Stephen can only tsk. He makes a gesture with his free hand and uses his magic to form chains that bind your wrists together, so that both of his hands are able to wander your body.

Even though he has never had the privilege to map out your body in real life, in the dreams you are soft and sensitive, the trailing of his fingers along the parts where your body dips and then expands making you moan, making you beg.

There has never been a sweeter or more erotic sound to Stephen’s ears than the dream version of you begging.

(He could only imagine how he would react to the real version of you doing it.)

Stephen gritted his teeth as he tried to land a hit on you with his whip, but as usual that proved to be far easier said than done.

You rolled out of the way, dirt staining your training clothes and getting into your hair as you formed a shield made of thick black smoke, successfully blocking Stephen’s attack. You rose to your feet and charged. You dodged every lashing Stephen sent out, moving as if you were a swan gliding across a lake, before finally knocking him onto his back.

Stunned and winded, Stephen could only blink and once again marvel at just how sturdy the things you conjured could be before he felt something lapping at his neck. When he looked down he saw a dagger, pressed to his throat, and when he looked up he saw you, kneeling and taking up his whole view. Your head was blocking out most of the now low hanging sun, leaving what was left to make something like a halo around you, outlining you in gold.

Stephen’s heart jumped right up into his throat and he found himself at a loss for words.

Taking his silence of adoring reverence for one of admitted defeat, you smiled and dispelled the shield and dagger, rising to your feet with an outstretched hand. Stephen took it and rose with you, his whip disappearing.

“I didn’t hurt you too badly did I?” You asked immediately.

Stephen couldn’t help but smile. He found your fretting endearing, and loved how it revealed your soft heart. “I’m perfectly fine.” He assured you. “You did very well today, you’re improving quickly.”

You beamed, seeming to glow under Stephen’s praise, making his heart flutter. “Thank you.” You said, sounding breathless.

Still smiling, Stephen noticed that Wong was watching the two of you from a window. When he saw that he had been spotted, he pointed at you urgently, raising his brows. Stephen immediately looked away. “Get some rest, you’ve earned it.” He smiled and patted your shoulder before walking away.

“Stephen.”

The urgentness and hesitation in your voice makes him stop, and he turns to face you, suddenly worried. “What’s wrong?” He asked, immediately going back to your side, genuinely afraid now.

You gaze up him, your beautiful eyes filled with unease and it makes him grip your shoulders. “Stephen.” You whisper, and it sends the sweetest of shivers down his spine.

“Yes?”

The two of you gaze at each other in silence, and Stephen searched your face, trying to find what it was that was bothering you.

You took a step forward, so that only a small sliver of space existed between the two of you. Stephen’s breath caught in his throat.

“Stephen.”

Who knew his name could sound so sweet?

“Name.” He licked his lips. “Are you...are sure?”

“I’ve never been so sure of anything in my life.” You whispered. “Nothing-no one, has ever made me feel like this.”

He isn’t sure who moved first. He thinks it might’ve been him, but who can say? All he knew was that he was kissing you, his arms around your waist and your hands clinging onto his chest.

As fireworks explode inside Stephen he pulls away, gazing into your eyes. “I love you.” He whispered, afraid that speaking any louder would lead to the moment shattering.

You smiled. “No shit Sherlock.”

Stephen snorted with laughter before capturing your lips in another kiss.

When Stephen awoke the next day, he saw that the other side of his bed was messy. For a moment he was confused, as that didn’t usually happen, before he remembered.

Last night, after finally opening his heart up to you and watching in astonishment as you did the same, he took you to his room. Nothing really happened, just lots more kissing and cuddling as you were both so tired and sore from training, but that hardly mattered. You had been in his arms and your mouth had been kissing him and his mouth had been kissing you and nothing had ever felt so perfect.

Overwhelmed with the urge to kiss you again, Stephen got up, threw on some sweatpants and a shirt, and went off to find you.

He immediately went to the library, every step feeling lighter than the last.

When he opened the door, he was brought back down to earth.

Wong was lying on the ground, eyes shut and groaning.

Stephen went to his knees and helped the other man up, his heart hammering. “What happened?!” He asked frantically. “Who did this?!”

Once he was firmly on his feet, Wong looked at Stephen with the most stricken expression he had ever seen on anyone. “Stephen-I-I’m sorry.”

“What happened Wong?”

“Name.” He said softly, casting his eyes downwards.

All at one Stephen’s guts constricted and his heart froze while his brain went into overdrive, thinking of every possible scenario that would’ve lead to this. “Where is she? Wong where’s Name?!”

“She took the book Stephen.” Wong croaked, still unable to look up. “I ran into her last night, here, and she…” He trailed off, but Stephen was more than capable of putting two and two together.

And as he did so, he felt his heart shatter, and already knew that what had happened to his hands would always pale in comparison to this kind of hurt.

#stephen strange x reader #stephen strange imagine #fanfictionhub #doctor strange x reader #doctor strange imagine

[tessimagines]

Fanfictionhub

Hey Guys! I just wanted to announce that I am a part of the new account called @fanfictionhub . The account was created by the lovely @siriusyblack as a way for fanfiction readers to get their fix from a group of writers. You can request for any fandom and someone on the team will write it. 

You can check out the account here and find the application to join the team here. We are looking for some positive writers to join the team with us and help us to supply good content to readers. If you would like to join, please check out the application and drop it either in our inbox or DMs. 

Thank you guys for reading this and we hope to get some applications soon!

~~Tess~~

#fanfictionhub #game of thrones imagines #marvel imagines #harry potter imagines #marauders imagines #doctor who imagines #sherlock imagines #supernatural imagines #harry potter imagine #teen wolf imagines #dc imagines #star wars imagines #percy jackson imagines #sirius black imagines #george weasley imagines #remus lupin imagines #jon snow imagines #robb stark imagines #dean winchester imagines #sam winchester imagines #thor imagines #peter parker imagines #bucky imagines #kylo ren imagines #poe dameron imagines

[wreckofawriter]

Another Wattpad Thief

Hello, so the wattpad user @-lupinswh0re took a bunch of stories from tumblr. Im going to tag the people bellow, they gave credit but i don't think they got permission to repost.

they blocked me and im sick of this fuckin shit, it honestly pisses me off.

PSA: IF YOU DONT GET PERMISSION TO REPOST IT, DONT FUCKIN REPOST IT

here are the people they stole from: @randomoutsiders @underratedcharactersimagines @wishiwasanavenger-archive @fanfictionhub @blkgirl-writing @beauxbatons-babe @siriusblackasf @seriouslyblacklikemysoul @iliveiloveireblog @sleekeazyz @lupinlongbottom @kalimagik @poppin-potter @malfycs @fandom-puff @inkinflux @rainandhotchocolate @theweasleysredhair @slythrx @swellwriting @hello-everyfandom @acciofanfics @wondernimbus @prongsies @theseuscmander @lavishlilacs @futurewriter2000 @regulusheadcanons @evanescoed @remmyswritings @working-on-writing @onlydreamofmysoul @thementalmuso

#harry potter #harry potter imagines #harry potter au #harry potter imagine #sirius black x reader #draco malfoy x reader #harry potter x reader #marauders imagines #marauders au #james potter imagine #harry/draco

[fanfictionhub]

Slow Burn (Sirius Black x Reader)

(This bad-quality gif is mine :> pls don’t steal him)

Fandom: Harry Potter, Marauders Era

Word Count: 1152 

Warnings: Swearing, intense make out session

Also Starring: Professor Flitwick 

Prompts: None

A/N: So I kind of started writing this just because I wanted to without adding like any Prompts to it so...yeah. Anyway, feel free to request. Also, fanfictionhub applications are still open so if you’re a writer and you’d like to apply, please do!

Sirius Black is a special kind of asshole.

Not your typical, A-grade asshole who laughs at sexist jokes and has an ego bigger than his dick. No, Sirius Black is messy and sarcastic and late to every tutoring session, and he swears like cussing is a new language, and he smirks too much and cares too little and he’s handsome – God he’s handsome – he could turn angels into sinners and you really shouldn’t care but you do.

Because he’s that kind of asshole, the kind that digs beneath your skin and spreads through you like a rash, and he takes the best of you and turns it into complete and utter anger just for fun.  

Sexual frustration someone had once said, but you had ignored them because there is nothing sexual that you feel for him. And to say you were frustrated was an understatement. He has you seething at the end of every session you have with him and you want to punch something and then punch him and you’re hostile and he’s so calm, and you just–

“You are the most condescending – pretentious – dumbass I have ever had the misfortune of meeting in my life!”

Your chest is heaving, and your fists are trembling, and you can feel an artery throbbing in your neck, white-hot blood pulsing through your body, and he’s standing there, brows raised and a smirk curling around his lips like cigarette smoke and he has the audacity to be amused at your anger as though you were a toddler.

“Wow, (Y/N), you kiss your mother with that mouth?” he grins, and you want to punch him in his stupid, smug face.

“How do you expect to get better at Charms when all you do is argue with me and eat?” you snarl, waving your Charms homework in front of him.

“Well, you tell me stuff and I pretend to care,” Sirius replies, smoothly, “Come on, you have to have ‘the gift’ or some bullshit like that and I clearly don’t have a gift for Charms.”

“Well why are you wasting my time?” you grit out, and Sirius smirks. Again.

“Because you’re beautiful when you’re angry,” he murmurs, voice honeyed and eyes sparkling. When he notices your scowl, his expression shifts into mild confusion, “Hm, that usually works.”

You scoff, throwing your hands up in the air, “I don’t have time for your sweet nothings, Black. Unlike you, I want to graduate. So if you’ll excuse me, I’ll be leaving now.”

You don’t give him enough time for a response and you spin around on your heel, stomping out of the Gryffindor common room.

***

“Very good work today, Miss (Y/L/N)” Professor Flitwick smiles fondly at you as you make your way toward his desk, your Charms assignment in hand, “It looks like those tutoring lessons with Mr. Black are really paying off.”

You blink at the Professor, and a nervous laugh slips from your lips. “Um, sorry Professor, but I believe you’re mistaken. I’m not getting tutored, I’m tutoring – or I was – Sirius.”

Professor Flitwick gives a hearty guffaw, his eyes warm with amusement, “Come now, Miss (Y/N), there’s no shame in asking for help.”

“But I don’t need help,” you insist, agitation itching beneath your skin, “Sirius is the one who needs help.”

Professor Flitwick stares at you for a long moment, studying you as though you were lying, “Mr. Black is at the top of his class in Charms, and you’re a close second. He scored 99.6% on his last assignment.”

A wave of frustration, confusion, and the tiniest bit of jealousy washes over you as you stare at your Professor. Questions burst into your mind, the most pressing of them being why.

“Why would Sirius ask me to tutor him on a subject that he’s excelling at?”  

Professor Flitwick’s lips curve into a knowing smile, and you suddenly feel like he knows something you don’t, “You’ll have to ask him that yourself.”

The Fat Lady really does have a piercing stare.

She watches you suspiciously as you pace outside the Gryffindor common room, waiting – always bloody waiting – for Sirius to decide that he wants to actually meet you. There is a deadly cocktail of emotions swirling inside of you like a gigantic whirlpool in your stomach, and a thousand thoughts are racing around your skull, slipping, falling, colliding with one another.

What is his problem? Why would he waste my time like that? How could anyone waste their own time like that?

“¬(Y/N)! Two tutoring sessions in one day? Are you in love with me?” Sirius saunters toward you wearing his signature smirk, and you spin around to face him.

“I think I should be the one asking questions here,” you snap, “like Why did you ask me to tutor you when you were already the top of your class?”

Sirius’s smirk disappears, and he drops his gaze. “You – erm – found out about that?”

“Of course, I did!”

“So, are you telling me off?”

“I’m asking you why you wasted my time for six bloody months.”

“Because…”

“Because what?”

“What?”

“Sirius,” you sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose, “If you don’t answer me right now, I swear to Merlin I will–”

It happens so quickly, you hardly have time to register that Sirius Black is now kissing you. It’s a shock at first, a sudden intrusion that doesn’t feel like an intrusion at all. His lips are surprisingly soft, moving against yours smoothly, passionately, like the molten-gold strands of fire whiskey trickling over your lips, and you can’t help but match his rhythm. It’s a push and pull, like the eternal dance of the tide; he pushes his lips onto yours, you pull them in with your teeth. He pushes his tongue between your lips, you pull him in closer. And just as you begin to melt into him, he pulls away and the cycle is broken.  

“Why didn’t you just talk to me…” you ask, breathlessly, longingly. Sirius licks his lips again, then again, his tongue swiping over his bottom lip. His hand rakes a path through his thick, luscious hair. Your hands twitch and grip his robes and you ignore the urge to tangle your fingers through his locks.

“Because you think that I’m a condescending, pretentious dumbass.”

“I only said those things because I was mad,” you reply, meekly, your fingers now tugging at a loose strand of fabric. You stare at the cushion of his lower lip, how delicate and red it looks in the afternoon light, “I didn’t mean it.”

He smiles, a rare curve of the lips that turns your spine into a crackling, live wire, “I know.”

A gentle smile graces your lips, mimicking his, as you realize that assholes can’t smile. Not like Sirius.

#sirius black #sirius black x reader #sirius black imagine #harry potter #harry potter imagine #sirius black fluff #sirius x reader #fluff #sirius black drabble #the marauders #the marauders imagine #imagines #hp imagine #by georgie* #ow

[sirius]

Do you make the gifs you use? If not, where do you find them??

Some of them I made, like the ones with the ‘fanfictionhub’ watermark on it e.g.

They’re mine. As well as the ones on my master list e.g.

They’re mine and there’s one of the trio on there from POA that I made too.

The ones that aren’t mine are just from the gif search. So when you make a post, a little Gif symbol will show up. On mobile, it looks like this:

Desktop looks like this:

...I think? This is just from a google search lol

#cute nonnies #owls

[mrschangrettawrites]

Hell Hath No Fury

Summary: You had been betrayed for the last fucking time

Pairings: Tommy Shelby x Reader (formerly), Tommy Shelby x Grace (mentioned), Luca Changretta x Reader (main)

Words: 3374

Notes: Spoilers for season four, female reader, I should be working on other things but instead I’m doing this. Drag me. I highly highly highly recommend installing the InteractiveFics extension from the Chrome store if you can. To add your name and last name simply install the extension, then click ‘Need to replace something other than Y/N?’ and in the value bar put Name and put your name in the Replace With bar, then click change! And be sure to tick Store this replacement so that you don’t have to do it every time.

IT HAS BEEN FOREVER I KNOW IM SORRY FGNFGNFDJ I KEEP GETTING DISTRACTED

Tagging: @blinder-secrets @timeless-flogging @decaffeinatedeaglefart @goghadventuring @sophspark@possiblyafangirl @buckybarnesisalittleshit @aya-fay @evanpeters3826 if you would like to be tagged in future chapters just send in a message!

One // Two // Three // Four

Chapter Five

You returned to your mum’s place through the back just like when you left, and found her in hysterics.

“Where have you been?!” She shrieked. “Curly said you were nearly killed by those Italians! Why didn’t you come straight back here? I thought something had happened to you!”

Seeing the tears well up in your mum’s eyes, a wave of shame overcame you. You honestly didn’t think Curly would say anything about what had happened to your mum, but everyone was so on edge now that it really shouldn’t have surprised you.

“I’m sorry mum.” You said gently, hugging her tight. “I just...I needed some air.”

Before you set foot in the direction of your mum’s home you had decided to keep her in the dark about your plan. Not because you didn’t trust her, but because you needed her to be safe. With everything else falling away, your mum was all you had and you didn’t want her tangled up in this. You were going to shoulder this alone, for better or worse.

“Mum.” You inhaled deeply, gently holding your mum by her shoulders. “I’m going back to Tommy.”

The look of utter despair and heartbreak on your mum’s face made you feel even worse, which you didn’t think would be possible.

“No.” She said, trying to be firm but her voice cracked right at the end. “No I can’t let you do that. He’s broken your heart again, how many times does he have to hurt you until you leave?”

You didn’t answer. You knew that taking Tommy back was essential to your plan, but it didn’t make you feel any better about how your mum felt. “At least one more time.” You finally said grimly.

The tears were free flowing now, and your mum couldn’t hold back, begging you to not go back to Thomas, to stay here as long as necessary, to finally abandon the Shelby name.

“Mamma,” you said softly, “ti prego fidati di me.”

There was a brief pause, and your mum looked up at you, eyes shining from the tears. She set her mouth in a thin line. “Spero tu sappia cosa stai facendo.”

‘So do I.’

When Thomas got home that night, he found you in the kitchen brewing a fresh pot of tea. You were using a blend you made yourself that had jasmine, pear, and peppermint. An odd mix of flavours perhaps, but you were fond of it and you knew Thomas would know what the smell meant.

Sure enough, moments after you heard the front door close, you saw Thomas at the doorway. He stared at you like it was the first time he ever saw you, and he was afraid it would be his last. “You’re back.” He whispered.

“Yes.” You took the pot to the table where you had set out two tea cups, filling both of them. “Although my mum isn’t too happy about it.” You said.

“I-I can imagine.” Slowly, Thomas approaches you, watching you for a reaction.

Seeing him act like a skittish foal made you smile even wider, but you kept your expression kind rather than mocking, and you even reached out for his hand. You gently held the tips of his fingers, keeping your grip soft and unthreatening. “Before you say anything.” You said, noticing Thomas open his mouth. “You need to know, that this is the last time this happens.” You look up at him, expression somber but trying to be kind and calm about it. It was one you had worn before and you didn’t need to put much practice and effort into it. “If another woman comes out of the woodwork, I’m gone. For good.”

In a flash Thomas is holding your hand with both of his and bringing it up to his lips. “I understand.” His voice is hushed, eyes closed, and his head is bent, like he’s in church, while brushing his lips along your knuckles. “I-I know I don’t deserve it, or you.”

‘No you fucking don’t.’

“But I swear to you, this will be the last time I will hurt you.” He takes your face into his hands and brings you close, his clear blue eyes staring into yours with a tenderness you hadn’t seen since before the war.

It almost makes you believe him.

“I’ll do whatever it takes.” He kisses your forehead softly, before trailing his lips to your left temple and nuzzling his nose in your hair. He inhales deeply. “I let Lizzie go.” He said softly, watching you for some kind of reaction.

This surprised you. You had planned to trying to persuade Thomas to fire Lizzie, both because it was part of your plan, and out of sheer pettiness. Just because you were ready to use Thomas that didn’t mean you were over this betrayal. “You didn’t have to do that.” You said softly.

“Yes I did.”

For a few moments, the two of you stood in silence. But while Thomas’s silence was that of a supplicant, yours was of the kind that lingers in the rooms of schemers and traitors.

“Who will replace her?” You asked carefully, bringing one of the teacups up to Thomas for him to take.

“Don’t know.” He took the cup, sipping it while still gazing at you.

“Could…” You bite your bottom lip as you picked up the other teacup, doing your best to appear hesitant. “Could I…” You trail off purposefully, taking a nervous gulp of the tea, counting on Tommy to pick up what you had put down.

He looked at you with confusion, his brow furrowed. “Do you want to?”

You shrug shyly, acting as if you never meant to bring the possibility forward. “I just...I would feel safer, knowing you were there.” You put a hand on his arm, fighting back the sudden surge of revulsion that had overcome you. “And it could be good for us…”

A third reason is left in the space between you two. You could keep a closer eye on him if you were his secretary, make sure he was keeping his promise. It was a gamble, you had known that when the idea began to take shape in your mind, but it was one you were willing to take. Lord knew you had taken worse ones.

The air becomes still and tense, as you drink the rest of your tea with genuine nervousness, never taking your eyes off Thomas. You may have told him he was forgiven, but he knew that it was going to take a lot of work to go back to the way things used to be, and he knew that you knew that too.

“Ok.” He set his tea down, putting his arms around you and resting his forehead against yours. “Starting tomorrow eh?”

You nod, and when Thomas closes his eyes, you allow yourself a moment to let out the daggers that had been hiding behind yours.

Even without anyone saying anything, you knew that they all knew. You knew it from the pitying looks, the attempts to not look directly at you, the excessive niceties. The only one who didn’t act like anything was different was Arthur, who greeted you with a grin and then a hug.

“It’ll be good to have ya about.” He said, leading you to your new desk. “Tommy is always better with you around.”

‘No he isn’t.’

But you smile back and rest your hand on Arthur’s arm and gently squeeze. “At least I’m out of the house finally.” You joked, feeling the releasing of tension in your muscles. The two of you had always got on well, like a house on fire. You appeared to be the only one with the patience and endurance to handle Arthur’s erratic outbursts, and the one who was always the most ready to forgive him for anything he had done while in one of his blind rages. Under all the gangster bluster, Arthur had a good heart. Had he been born into a different family, a different life, he could’ve been someone great. All the Shelbys could’ve.

“I’m goin’ to visit Michael later, do you want to come with me?”

The offer was touching, and made you guiltily remember how the only time you had visited Michael was when he was in his coma. Seeing him had put the fear of God in your heart, and made you avoid the hospital because of it. “Yeah, yeah, I would.”

“Good, sorted.” Arthur loitered by your desk as you took your seat and familiarized yourself with everything on it and in the drawers. Every trace of Lizzie was gone.

“Listen, Name…” He swallowed, looking away. “I-I didn’t know. About Lizzie.”

Well, perhaps not every trace.

“I know.” You said, in a hushed voice. The night before, Thomas had assured you that the only Shelbys that were privy that his very brief, but fruitful, affair were him and Polly. And you believed him, because you knew that the rest of them would never hide something like that from you. “It’s alright Arthur.”

“No it bloody well isn’t.” The gruffness in his voice, not to mention the words themselves, surprised you. You hadn’t expected Arthur to take this stance, as even in the worst times he always stood by Thomas. But it seemed he had reached his limit, same as you. “You were always good to Tom. You didn’t deserve that. Any of it.” He placed a hand on your shoulder and squeezed, like you had with his arm. “I’m sorry.”

It was the only apology that you had heard that you believed.

“Everything alright here?”

Thomas had emerged from his office, eyes flitting between you and his brother. The slight tightness in his tone, not to mention the way he was looking at the two of you, made you sick. He always got like that whenever he started to feel jealous and/or possessive, two feelings that in your humble opinion, Thomas had no right to feel anymore.

“Jus’ fine Tom.” Arthur drew his hand back, also recognizing what was beginning to form in Thomas. He gave you one last smile before he left the two of you to your devices.

After a tense silence, Thomas turned to you, his gaze now soft. “May Carlton is coming later.”

Another name that set you on edge. Before this, you had assumed that May was merely some posh girl who had a taste for bad men, and was largely harmless. But you had thought the same of Grace too. Thomas had not admitted to anything going on between him and May, but it was hard to ignore the possibility.

You found the appointment in the diary, in Lizzie’s handwriting. You wondered how Lizzie felt, seeing that name staring up at her, in her own hand. It gave you a small sense of sadistic pleasure. “Do I need to prepare anything?” You asked, keeping everything conversational.

“No, it’s fine.”

For a few moments, the two of you just stand in silence.

Thomas swallows, his Adam’s apple slowly descending before going back up again. For a split second, you imagined sticking a bullet, or even a knife, into that piece of flesh. The next, you pictured sinking your teeth into it, tearing the skin and muscle away completely. See how well Thomas lies without a throat.

You swallowed down those fantasies and forced yourself to kiss him gently. It was barely a kiss really, the kind the two of you used to exchange when you were both still young and could still feel delirious happiness when around each other. Quick, chaste, easily kept secret.

The connection had never even occurred to you, you had simply done it because you felt that it was something that you should do, given the circumstances. But it wasn’t lost on Thomas.

He gazed at you like he didn’t entirely believe that you were real, like if he looked away he would lose you.

Well he could look all he liked. You weren’t coming back.

“Arthur and I are going to visit Michael later.” You said softly, taking delight in the way your breath on Thomas’s lips made him inhale sharply, his eyes traveling down to your lips. “Is there anything you want me to give him or tell him?”

To anyone else, the question was perfectly innocent. But it’s implication was anything but; I’m going somewhere and I don’t want you there. The fact that you would be accompanied by Arthur, whom Thomas seemed to be rather jealous of now, added another layer to it. He needn’t worry though, Arthur loved Linda too much to do anything that would hurt or humiliate her.

“No, it’s alright.” Thomas paused, then went over to you and placed a gentle kiss on the top of your head. “Everything’s going to work out, I promise.” He whispered into your hair.

“I know.”

‘Just not for you.’

The rest of the day passed without event, until May turned up.

She looked at you with wide, slightly frightened eyes. You had conversed only once, before the horse auction, and she had shown no seen of fear then. Even if you hadn’t caught the look of guilt on her face, you would’ve known from that alone.

“Mrs Shelby.” She said by way of greeting, while looking directly over your shoulder. “Good afternoon.”

“And you Mrs Carlton.” You smiled warmly while rising from your seat. “Tommy is expecting you.” You lead May to the large double doors that seperated Thomas’s office from the rest of the betting shop, and opened them without knocking.

Thomas looked up from his desk and for a split second he looked like he was going to say something snippy until he saw that was just you and May. He waited and watched the two of you approach him, shaking May’s hand. “Thank you for coming Mrs Carlton.” He said formally, like he was trying to emphasize that there was no kind of personal connection between them.

“I’ll leave you two too it.” You said before excusing yourself, enjoying the tense look Thomas and May exchange and that you pretended not to see. Who knew you possessed a sadistic streak.

While looking over paperwork that Lizzie hadn’t been able to complete prior to her dismissal, you heard a throat being cleared. You looked up and saw an ashamed Polly.

‘How many more fake apologies do I have to sit through?’

“Polly.” You kept your voice soft and lowered your eyes, as if embarrassed.

“Do you have a moment?” She asked.

“Of course.” Let her try and defend herself, it was too late for her anyway.

Polly swallowed thickly and she blinked a few times, which she only did when trying to calm herself. Especially when she’s close to tears. “I know you have no right to forgive me, or believe anything I say, but I am sorry for keeping this from you.”

You lifted your gaze, still looking like a wounded deer. You should’ve entered the world of theater.

“Leaving it for Tommy or Lizzie to tell you was cowardly.”

‘You’re fucking right it was.’

“You’re a part of this family, have been for years, and you deserved better. I-” She cut herself off and nervously bit her bottom lip. “I should’ve gone to you straight away. We can’t afford to have division in this family, especially now with everything happening.”

You nodded, making yourself look grim. “I understand.” You said softly. “I’m sorry for yelling at you.” That was an absolute lie of course, but you needed to keep playing your part, even if it made your stomach churn. You stood up and walked around the desk, embracing Polly. “Thank you.”

If Polly was surprised by the hug, she didn’t show it. She just wrapped her arms around you. For a moment, everything felt normal. You weren’t having homicidal fantasies, scheming the downfall of the fledgling Shelby empire, and planning a fate worse than death for your husband.

When you pulled away, the moment was gone and you were back in reality. It almost hurt.

“All is forgiven.” You assured her. “If I can forgive Tommy then I can forgive you.” You added as a joke, smiling as you did so.

Polly snorted and shook her head. “You have the patience of a saint with that boy.”

You nearly laughed at that, but you managed to hold it in and just nodded. “How are you doing? Are you ok?”

“Not really.” Polly admitted, getting out a cigarette and lighting it. “Every time I close my eyes I imagine Luca Changretta pressing a gun to Michael’s head.”

The same thought had occurred to you, so your sympathy was sincere this time when you spoke. “Tommy has guards watching Michael around the clock.” You reminded her. “I doubt a fly will be able to get into Michael’s room without being interrogated.”

Polly chuckled and smiled a little. “Yeah, I suppose you’re right. It’s just stupid paranoia.”

“It isn’t stupid.” You said gently. “We’ve already lost John. If anything, I would be concerned if you weren’t paranoid.”

Polly exhaled smoke and looked at you thoughtfully. “I always thought you were a good influence on this family. Especially Tommy.” She tapped her cigarette on the glass ashtray on your desk. “We’re lucky to have you.”

That really almost got you going. “I do my best.” You joked.

The moment was interrupted by the telephone ringing, making you both jump.

“Well, I’ll leave you to it.” Polly said, patting your hand with a smile before leaving.

Sitting back in your chair, you picked up the receiver and picked up a pencil, ready to take notes if necessary. “Shelby Company Limited.” You said cheerily. “How may I help you?”

“Name, your plan’s already started to come together I see.”

Luca Changretta’s voice sent a jolt down your spine and you sat up straighter, keeping yourself as calm as possible as you did your best to act like this was just another normal call. “Yes sir, this is Mr Shelby’s secretary.”

A deep chuckle came through, making you shiver in a way that wasn’t unpleasant. “I want to talk, how about coming back to the hotel?”

“Let me check Mr Shelby’s diary.” You replied, pretending to look over Thomas’s diary. “Is later this afternoon doable for you sir?”

“Perfect.” It almost came out as a purr, and again you thought a very big, very dangerous cat. “Where should I have Matteo pick you up?”

“I’m afraid Mr Gray is in the hospital sir.” You said, hoping that Luca Changretta would pick up on your hint. “But I will be able to pass on a message.”

“Across the street from the hospital it is.” Either your ears were deceiving you, or Luca Changretta was genuinely amused by this. “I look forward to it.”

At the sound of footsteps you looked up and saw Arthur standing just a meter away, waiting for you to be finished with the call. “I’ll pass it on to him right away sir.” You said. “Is there anything else?”

“Not at all. I’ll see you later bella.”

He hung up before you had the chance to do so, leaving you feeling a little flustered and trying very hard to hide it.

“Everything ok?”

You looked up at Arthur and smiled, able to calm yourself just enough to not raise suspicion. “Yeah, just taking a call.” You got up from the desk, with legs that had somehow gotten weaker, and went to Arthur, linking your arm with his to help steady yourself. “Everything’s fine.”

Arthur smiled down at you. “Good. You’ve got enough on your plate.”

For the first time, a twinge of guilt appeared in your heart.

Translations:

Mamma ti prego fidati di me-Mom, please trust me (according to google translate)

Spero tu sappia cosa stai facendo-I hope you know what you are doing (according to google translate)

Bella-Beautiful (according to google translate)

#luca changretta x reader #tommy shelby x reader #peaky blinders fanfic #peaky blinders imagine #fanfictionhub