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oddaodd · 2 years

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This is so beautifully written, sucks you right in and then takes your breath away, which I mean as the highest of compliments. I’m in awe at the depth you managed to create with the healer’s backstory in addition to the attention to describing details and the words you chose to use to paint each scene! Can’t wait for a part two should you write one! ❤️

your writing is genuinely... so good? i love the way you describe the settings without getting too much into the details and just enough to establish the mood, the characters' mannerisms, everything! it's been a while since ive read such immersing fics. <3 would you mind writing another daemon x reader story if you feel like it? not necessarily with her as rhaenyra. i swear you're one of very few writers able to do daemon's character justice.

Aversive Healing (Daemon x Reader)

(A/N) Here it is, at long last! Thank you so much for your lovely words, I have been reading this time and again, and it never fails to enliven me when I feel down! Now, this may not be my finest work, but I hope it comes to your liking :)

Warnings: fluffy Daemon, 5AM editing, poor titling skills

While the night’s lustration had left Daemon sated and pleasantly jaded, Viserys’ reception of the news of his service had dilapidated his morning before it began. After allowing the Hightower poltroon to school him as he would a common schoolboy, his King insisted he be attended to by a royal healer.

Resisting the urge to fall into bed the moment he set foot in his chambers, Daemon starts to languishly strip his armor, when a timid knock sounds, followed by the timorous steps of what must be the most captivating healer the Red Keep has ever seen.

“The head birthing amah of her Grace Queen Aemma, my Prince.” His guard announced, and she looks to her feet at finding him half-dressed, face flushed in a maidenly color.

“My brother must suspect me to be with child then, if he has sent his midwife to nurse me tonight.” He mocks in an unenthused manner, not wishing to betray the mayhem her mere presence is evoking in him.

"I am the head healer of royal attendants; trained by the finest septas and maesters of the Red Keep to remedy every ailment and nurse every pain. It is by my choosing that I have taken the post of daya, if only to remain close to my Queen."

Voice shaking as she quietly announces her qualification.

"I didn't realize the wife of my brother's company was worthy to be sought after by such becoming creatures." He rapidly retorts, continuing to strip his armor and wincing in turn at the aching muscles threatening to peel off his bones.

She kneels to set her knees on the floor, assembling her equipage on his bedside table in silence, unimpressed by the Prince's bitter vanity.

Now stripped of his armor and shirts, Daemon settles on the bed next to her figure, keenly inspecting her as she works; hands shaking and breath stuttering with every movement.

"If my Prince would be so kind as to cynosure his keen gaze elsewhere." She pleads apprehensively, her own gaze dancing the walls.

"What is the matter that demands such unease and trepidation? Do I fluster you so, Nurse?" He asks, cocking his head to catch her gaze as she keeps it firmly on her hands.

She ignores his discourtesy, opting to clean his wounds, drawing heavy breaths and well-disguised heaves with her cold, pressing hands on the Prince.

She proves to be as habile as she is arresting, making quick work of his injuries and easily getting the Prince ready for bed.

"That would be it. Good night, your Grace." She bows timidly, scurrying to bale her apparatus of viles and tools when he places his weathered hand on her elbow.

"Why do you fear me?" He asks reasonably, disheartened by her cold demeanor. "What reason have I not to, my Prince? You did just slaughter an entire town." She intrepidly dared to express, and Daemon's heart sank at the revulsion in her voice.

"Fear-mongers, murderers and rapers who would threaten the lives of the innocent! I am not a monster." She flinches away at his octave, bowing low to accommodate the Prince's lacerated ego.

"Of course, my Prince. You need not explain yourself to the likeness of myself. Have a good night, your Grace." She hastens to retreat, putting coarsened leagues between herself and the Rogue Prince that he will spend the coming weeks moiling inexhaustibly to conquer.

Daemon's next course of action was to join his brother as he visits his parturient wife, aspiring to catch another glimpse of the striking healer.

Upon reaching her quarters, however, he is disappointed to find the Queen sending his earmark on an errand; their eyes meet when she turns to take her leave, shifting her gaze to look ahead of her.

"Your Grace." She expresses with an incarcerating smile in his general direction, and for a moment he thinks the greeting addressed to him, before his brother's voice lances the meteoric dream.

"Ah, my dear child! How do you do? I hope my wife's bestial nature has not driven out the Keep's finest physician away."

"None of that. Being beside her Grace to witness the majestic feat of giving life is both the greatest honor and pleasure of my life. I will forever be in your debt, my King, for this above all else."

Daemon is mazed at the familiarity of the exchange, and more so at the volubility of her speech; a different woman in entirety than the one who was quivering on his floors mere days before.

He watches her take leave, walking into a servant with a series of curses.

"A very fine girl, she is. Lucky will be the one to have her." The Queen starts affectionately after her husband and kinsman have settled opposite to her.

"Indeed," Viserys agrees, "I only wish that she be wed to a kind knight or lordling after the birth of our son. While her versatility will be missed, she deserves to live comfortably and be treated mellowly, after all the poor girl has survived."

Daemon was about to spit a rancorous retort inquiring the King for the reasons he had not arranged that himself, with the power vested in him, already suspecting the worst of his brother after seeing them so bosomly.

Yet it died on his tongue at hearing the last insinuation, stirring at the chance to learn more of her essence. Reading the avidity in his gaze, Aemma puts his dubiety to rest.

"Her father was a Pentoshi merchant effectuating a silk trade here when slavers assailed them. They battered the poor man to his death, and sold her in a slave market at two-and-ten. One of Viserys' men heard the women of a pleasure house speak of how she proficiently induced their bloods, dulled their aches and delivered their children." She pauses her recital of events, taking labored breaths and rubbing her blistering abdomen.

"When I brought her to Aemma, she had yet to be deflowered, yet the mistresses had already taken out her womb in preparation, stealing away the girl's right to motherhood in the most barbarous of ways." Viserys continues the tale deplorably with a heavy sigh, and Daemon finds it in himself to question in an uncharacteristically small voice, with a deep sigh of his own.

"That is why no one will take her…" Aemma nods lamentably.

"Ever since making home here, it was striking how erudite she is; starting as my helper, she rapidly captured the attention of Maester Mellos, who taught her the ways of concoctions and prognosis, and assigned her reading from the royal library, to further expand her education. In three moons she had become my primary minder, relieving me of dependance on all but her. Even the Maester needs not assess me in her presence." She finishes weaving the tale of her favorite carer.

Daemon cogitates the information he has been fed as the sovereign spouses exchange conversation, devising his next stratagem.

He sits beside his niece at the familial evening Viserys insisted on having, "My son is about to be brought forth into the world, Daemon. Surely the Street of Silk will not feel your absence for this one night." His brother reasons, and Daemon conforms without tussle, not in the mood for a sermon.

He scans the Queen's retinue as it makes a belated entrance. He finds her whisking his brother's wife onto a cushioned lounger, barking at the attendees not to touch her.

She moves to leave them to their private meal, when the Queen clasps her elbow, muttering something in her ear that has her smiling and taking a seat next to her mistress.

Daemon follows their interactions, noting how maternal the Queen is with his corvine; she strikes him as utterly contented, laughing with the ladies-in-waiting, tenderly turning Aemma's attention from the noxious plates she has been debarred from consuming, tittering at Rhaenyra's well-timed raillery, and assuaging Viserys' ludicrous concerns.

It strikes him at that moment how aberrant he must have seemed that night in comparison to his affable, couthy family; bloodied and battle-worn, complacently snide with her, he begins to understand her apprehension towards him.

"Quite the epitome that one is," Rhaenyra follows his gaze, gesturing at her with her goblet. Daemon feigns nescience of her connotation.

"She cares for Mother as no other has, she's most comfortable in her presence, I even suspect she prefers her to me now." She giggles mellowly.

"In addition to that, she is inordinately shrewd! She contrived this concoction, you see, some moons ago. She gives it to me before my blood, it alleviates in such a way…I can even mount Syrax! Can you imagine that?!" He hums, prompting Rhaenyra to continue her disclosition.

"As if all she does here for us is not sufficient, she spends all her leave days between the orphan's asylum in Flea Bottom, and the Guildhall." Daemon sighs, growing more intent on gaining the divergent scholar's attention with every new word he hears of her.

While the erudite healer had received several allusions from her Queen to the Rogue Prince's newfound regard of her, she would certainly not have thought him unmindful enough to siege her unwinding time away from the palace.

She feels him watch conceitedly as she coaxes the etiolated children into the clarion, afternoon sun, not making an effort at clandestinity, and no one dares to question his presence.

Meanwhile, Daemon's heart jounces in its cage; never thinking such a scene would evoke the sentiment he wanted to roar of in trounce.

Growing bold under his attention, she ambles her way back to the Red Keep, leaving her chamber's door unsnibbed, skittishly anticipating his next move.

But the Prince had more patience than his brother gave him credit for; for after ensuring her safe return, he made his way back, finally prepared to enact his plan into being.

Some days later, the erudite healer is enjoying a night of intimate idling as the Red Keep hosts a feast for the city's nobility. She puts her resting time into good use, enjoying the company of a new book in a sweetly blistering bath, until a knock sounds, pulling her out of the evanescent recline.

Quickly robing herself to open the door, she finds none other than the Prince of the City on the other side of it.

He wears soft sleeping raiment, gaze cast to his feet in coy meekness. He allows his eyes to flit over her apologetically, before settling on her own questioning ones.

"It was not my intention to foist on your repose. I do not wish to heckle your rare rest, but I am afraid I find myself in your need." He mutters as she rolls her eyes, moving aside to let him in, closing the door behind him.

He sets himself on a chair, gaze keen on his feet still, when he begins explaining his malinger. "I was moving through the night when I felt an unforgiving calefaction wash over me; I had felt my appetite refrain throughout the day, my body unable to retain the water I gave it. I fear I might have acquired a fever."

"I see. And this required you to barge into my chamber while on leave? Any neophyte can attend to a common cold." She retorts exhaustedly, peracutely disappointed at having her rare moment of rest disrupted over such child's play.

"But I needed you…" He pouts, leaning into her jadedly, and the healer -being human after all-, cannot help but soften at the enfeebled Prince's state.

She gently moves him to lie on her bed, and he feels the cool, blissful press of a wet towel on his searing forehead.

He looks up to her searching through her many herbs and constituents, pulling out a dark vial and pouring it into a teacup, along with ground leaves and a marble-sized ball which he can only speculate its origin.

She tips the concoction to his lips, and his breath almost seizes at the realization of his current condition; wrapped in his corvine's sheets in the hour of the Wolf, receiving her uncensored, -if albeit silent- care. His eyes flutter shut with this on his mind, falling into the deepest, most tranquil slumber he's had in years.

He slowly awakens from his drowse to the inexplicable giggling of none other than his own niece, your quiet chiding only serving to spur her further.

"Look at him! So placid and reposeful, are you certain it is only a concoction you gave him?" She quips, laughing at her own teasing.

"As the heir to the Iron Throne, Princess, you have quite the sordid thinking." She reprimands with a shake of her head, which he does not see.

"No, no, truly, love. Who thought a little fever was all it took to soften your heart?" She falls into another fit of snickers.

"I have not- I am merely caring for the Royal family - your family, as it is my service to the realm."

"I do not recall sleeping in your bed the last time I was ill." She sneers good-naturedly.

"Well, I do not recall you disturbing my rest day in the dead of night either, Princess. Your uncle has a flair for the dramatics, that much is evident." She sighs.

"Oh, do not, for one moment, Royal Healer of the Red Keep, pretend that you do not love it."

@chronicallyfabulous22

@ahookedheroespureheart

@immyowndefender

@ateliefloresdaprimavera

@lfc21

@syrma-sensei

#daemon targaryen x reader #daemon targaryen #odarecomends

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oddaodd · 2 years

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Their relationship hurts but oh how I love them together 🥲❤️

SO YOU JUST DO WHAT YOU GOTTA DO, MY WILD SWEET LOVE, THOUGH IT MAY MEAN THAT I’LL NEVER KISS THOSE SWEET LIPS AGAIN

PEAKY BLINDERS — Tommy & May

#peaky blinders #may carleton

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oddaodd · 2 years

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Ahh im so glad you liked so! I did plan the ending to be on a bit of a foreboding note because I wanted it to be kind of ✨suspenseful✨ while knowing what comes next ❤️💐

· Unwanted Surprises ·

Summary : The reader wonders if she and Tommy have fallen out of love.

Author’s note: I started writing this on Christmas morning and then I forgot all about it. Now, I know we are long past Christmas, but since today I woke up feeling particularly angsty I decided to finish this. So yeah, buckle up.

Warnings: season 3 and 4 SPOILERS, mentions of smut.

The morning before Christmas Y/n woke up feeling melancholy. If it had been any other year she would be downstairs in the kitchen helping Frances prep everything and waiting for Polly, Ada and Tommy’s brothers to arrive. In years prior they always spent the days leading up to Christmas together, but not this year. Y/n had spent the most of the year feeling aloft, it being mainly Charlie and her and sometimes Tommy when he bothered to be home with the occasional visit from Michael ,who was the only one who still stood being in Tommy’s presence after what he had done to his family.

Y/n rolled to the other side of the bed and found it empty, Pristine and intact. Indicating that Tommy hadn’t even slept next to her the night before which as of late wasn’t uncommon. She ran her hand over the cold bedsheets on Tommy’s side an felt a strange twinge of anxiety. A strain of a foreboding feeling she chose to ignore as she got out of bed with a sigh.

She couldn’t contain the silent tears that fell across her cheeks as she made herself look presentable to go do some last minute Christmas shopping with Charlie.

“And can we get those chocolate biscuits I love from the bakery?” Asked Charlie excitedly as they made their way downstairs.

“Sure we can” smiled y/n “and also lemon scones and strawberry cake”

Charlies eyes lit up at the mention of scones “ We are going to get fat” he giggled.

“Well, a bit of extra fat is good for the winter” Reasoned y/n poking his nose.

Y/n stopped by Tommy’s home office before leaving just to let him know that they were going shopping.

“Do you want anything?” She offered softly.

“No” he dismissed. Again, there there was the pang of pain she felt when touching his side of bed.

“Okay, we won’t be long”

“Alright” he muttered nonchalantly.

The Christmas shopping helped uplift her mood. She got lost between decorations, Charlie’s smile and the joy that just seemed to float around the people shopping around her. Making her all forget for a while of her own and her husband’s gloom and of the shitty year they’d had.

When she and Charlie got home they unpacked what they bought before going to the kitchen for a cup of hot chocolate to go with the pastries they had bought in town.

She put Charlie to bed and read him stories, once he fell asleep she pressed a kiss to his forehead and went to find her husband who was still in his office.

“What’s this?” He asked looking at the neatly wrapped tiny box she handed to him before sitting on the edge of his desk.

“Just a little something” she smiled. “Go on, open it” She hoped the gift could warm him up and make way for her to spend some time with him.

But Tommy didn’t open it, he just placed it on his desk next to the array of papers that were scattered there “Thanks” he muttered before turning his attention back to the papers and worrying about the black hand he had just been delivered. Of course he hadn’t told Y/n about it yet.

Y/n sighed and pondered on wether to go on with what she had planned to do before entering the room. “Fuck it” she thought and walked towards Tommy. Completely oblivious to his worries about the Italians. She took away the pen he had in his hand and placed it on the table before crawling on his lap, finally earning his attention.

“Y/n” he began in a warning tone.

But Y/n payed no heed to his tone and ghosted her lips over his “I have another surprise for you” she said unbuttoning the top buttons of her dress revealing straps of lacy lingerie she had bought several days prior and hadn’t had the chance to wear. It had been a while since she and her husband had had sex. She understood he was mentally exhausted but she missed his touch and yearned for it.

She felt his hands on her waist, holding her in place and sighed internally in bliss at his touch before pressing her lips to his. Tommy followed along corresponding the kiss for a few moments before pulling away, earning an inaudible whine from Y/n at the loss of contact.

“Not now” he whispered with a sigh leaning back on his chair with Y/n still on his lap.

“Then when?” She asked feeling her heart grow heavy “We haven’t had sex in months” her voice raising ever so slightly at the end.

Tommy rolled his eyes “I don’t know, alright?! I have more important things to worry about” he said rising his voice more than Y/n’s.

Y/n couldn’t contain the tear that rolled down her cheek at his response. She quickly wiped it away before buttoning up her dress. Suddenly feeling vulnerable, unwanted and beyond embarrassed she got off her husband and began walking away from his desk. Her arms wrapped around herself for comfort without another word.

She stopped before opening the door, a question she had very present in her mind scratching inside her heart to be asked.

“Do you still love me?”

As her question spoken in the most broken of voices, rang through Tommys ears, he felt his heart stop. Had his negligence been too powerful to make her question his devotion to her? He hated the answer her question provided and got up walking towards her.

She heard his chair being drawn and remained where she stood, wiping away the tears that had followed that first one. She didn’t want him to see her cry, but she couldn’t hold back her silents sobs when she felt Tommys strong arms wrapping around her waist from behind.

“How can you ask that?” He asked.

She turned in his arms and sunk into his embrace as she snaked her own arms around him. The smell of his cologne and his cigarettes filled her nostrils coaxing more tears from her eyes. It had been a while since they last hugged.

“I love you” he promised pressing a kiss to her hairline before cupping her face in his hands and pressing his lips against hers.

Y/n felt all her emotions fluttering havoc inside her at the spark Tommy’s touch caused in her and parted away from his lips, tears still decorating her face. He looked into her puffy eyes with utter adoration and wiped away her tears with his thumb.

“I will never stop loving you” he professed in honest earnest before hugging her again, this time tighter than the first time. “Don’t ever think I will “ his mind traveling at all the times he had pushed Y/n away during the year and beat himself up for it.

The sound of the door opening earned Tommy’s attention and when Frances walked into the scene she immediately apologized for not having knocked.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Shelby, Mrs. But the chef insists on knowing at which time your guests will arrive, he’s foreign” she rushed.

@captivatedbycillianmurphy @writeroutoftime @peakyxtommy @nyotamalfoy

#tommy shelby imagine #self reblog

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oddaodd · 2 years

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I’m glad you do, lovely! ❤️💐

· Unwanted Surprises ·

Summary : The reader wonders if she and Tommy have fallen out of love.

Warnings: season 3 and 4 SPOILERS, mentions of smut.

She couldn’t contain the silent tears that fell across her cheeks as she made herself look presentable to go do some last minute Christmas shopping with Charlie.

“And can we get those chocolate biscuits I love from the bakery?” Asked Charlie excitedly as they made their way downstairs.

“Sure we can” smiled y/n “and also lemon scones and strawberry cake”

Charlies eyes lit up at the mention of scones “ We are going to get fat” he giggled.

“Well, a bit of extra fat is good for the winter” Reasoned y/n poking his nose.

Y/n stopped by Tommy’s home office before leaving just to let him know that they were going shopping.

“Do you want anything?” She offered softly.

“No” he dismissed. Again, there there was the pang of pain she felt when touching his side of bed.

“Okay, we won’t be long”

“Alright” he muttered nonchalantly.

When she and Charlie got home they unpacked what they bought before going to the kitchen for a cup of hot chocolate to go with the pastries they had bought in town.

She put Charlie to bed and read him stories, once he fell asleep she pressed a kiss to his forehead and went to find her husband who was still in his office.

“What’s this?” He asked looking at the neatly wrapped tiny box she handed to him before sitting on the edge of his desk.

“Just a little something” she smiled. “Go on, open it” She hoped the gift could warm him up and make way for her to spend some time with him.

“Y/n” he began in a warning tone.

“Not now” he whispered with a sigh leaning back on his chair with Y/n still on his lap.

“Then when?” She asked feeling her heart grow heavy “We haven’t had sex in months” her voice raising ever so slightly at the end.

Tommy rolled his eyes “I don’t know, alright?! I have more important things to worry about” he said rising his voice more than Y/n’s.

She stopped before opening the door, a question she had very present in her mind scratching inside her heart to be asked.

“Do you still love me?”

“How can you ask that?” He asked.

“I love you” he promised pressing a kiss to her hairline before cupping her face in his hands and pressing his lips against hers.

The sound of the door opening earned Tommy’s attention and when Frances walked into the scene she immediately apologized for not having knocked.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Shelby, Mrs. But the chef insists on knowing at which time your guests will arrive, he’s foreign” she rushed.

@captivatedbycillianmurphy @writeroutoftime @peakyxtommy @nyotamalfoy

#tommy shelby imagine #self reblog

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oddaodd · 2 years

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I couldn’t help but smile like a fool when I saw you had already posted Part three!! Tommy not knowing how to express his emotions and at the same time stopping when she tells him to wait is (though a bare necessity) so fucking hot!

Loved loved loved this part ❤️

“A Full Time Nanny” – Part III (modern!Tommy Shelby x Reader)

[ MASTERLIST ] • [ PART I ] • [ PART II ]

SUMMARY: Tommy takes you and Charlie on vacation but you soon find out he is there mostly for business. Despite the fact you spend most of the time only with his son, you two finally confess your feelings for each other.

AUTHOR’S NOTE: Thank you so much for so many kind comments under previous two parts, I would have never expected that! I think there will be one more part to wrap everything up nicely 😌💐

WARNING: English is my second language.

WORD COUNT: 4,100

Keep reading

#odarecomends #tommy shelby imagine #tommy shelby x reader

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oddaodd · 2 years

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The part of me that (not so) secretly dreams of being a housewife swooned for this! ❤️

Also, I never thought I would develop a crush on Jack, but boy oh boy I just might..

His Angel (Part 2)

Jack Nelson x innocent reader

Summary: Jack meets his future wife in 1920 before he takes power in Boston. Never willing to listen to anything negative about your man, you live a sheltered life, which is exactly the way Jack likes it.

Authors Note: This is a long chapter. I got carried away!

Warnings: S6 spoilers maybe?, age difference, domestic violence, language, injury, mentions of blood

It was a beautiful day in June, when you married and the weather in Boston was warm. Your mother had wanted to buy you a dress for the occasion, but lacked the money for a lavish wedding gown, so you had chosen a pale blue dress and matching hat instead. Although you were worried Jack might be disappointed, he loved your choice. He said the shade of blue you wore reminded him of the clear blue sky and how you were sent to him straight from heaven. The ceremony had been a small affair, attended by Jack’s mother and brother and your mother and sisters. As you anticipated, Patrick and his wife did not attend. While this worried Jack more than you, you still thought about it. You hoped one day your brother would come around.

After everyone had showered you in rice, you rushed to the car to drive off to your new home. Jack couldn’t wait to make you his in every way. As you readied yourself for bed, you worried he would be left dissatisfied in the bedroom. You had never gone further than kissing with him. While you were eager to consummate the marriage, you were afraid as well.

You shouldn’t have been though. Jack was so careful when he made love to you for the first time as though you would break if he wasn’t gentle. When you were finished you looked into his eyes and told him how you hoped you would fall pregnant soon. He caressed your cheek and said, “We’ve got nothin’ but time, angel.”

After your honeymoon period you both settled into a comfortable routine of eating breakfast together, taking long walks and attending church with his mother on Sundays. While Jack was not as reliable showing up for dinner as he had been for your dates, you were sympathetic to the struggles he was having at work. Jack claimed his boss was becoming more demanding of his time which is why he came home so late in an exhausted state. You never wanted to complain, however. Jack brought home a good salary and you knew that came with sacrifices for both of you.

——————————————————————————————

You were the picture perfect little wife, Jack thought. Being young, you were not only loving, but steadfastly obedient. Until the first night he came home with blood stains on his shirt. Jack always showered and changed before dinner. On this particular evening you had finished the roast and were coming to surprise him in the shower when you noticed his discarded shirt on the floor. Bending down to retrieve it, you saw the bloom of bright red and dropped it with a shriek.

Jack exited the bathroom looking around the room to see what had startled you. You ran to him, to check his body for injuries. “Jack, are you hurt?” You asked, running your hands over his muscular torso and up his neck to his face looking for a wound.

He stopped you, gripping your hands and giving them a small squeeze. “I’m fine, angel,” he reassured you with a tight smile.

“But…your shirt. How did it get stained with so much blood?” you asked still confused. Without answering, Jack turned to walk back into the bathroom.

You called after him. “Was it a nosebleed?” you asked stupidly, wracking your brain to think of a plausible explanation.

Jack spun around looking angry. “Y/n, enough!” He yelled, pounding his hand against the door. You visibly flinched at his outburst.

He spoke again at a normal volume and much more slowly to be sure you understood. “Now I already told you, I’m fine,” he said somewhat impatiently.

“You’re fine…” you repeated softly, coming to the awful realization that perhaps someone else was not. Your eyes widened at the thought, fear evident on your face. “Jack, whose blood is it?” you asked.

Jack crossed the room to grab you above the elbows and shook you saying, “You don’t ever ask me about things like that, do you understand?” Towering over you with a piercing glare, he held you there. You arms ached from his ruthless grip and your head felt dizzy.

When you opened your mouth, only a whimper escaped. Gulping nervously, you nodded to show you would do as he said and he shoved your arms away.

“Now if you don’t want to wash the damn shirt, burn it and buy more,” he instructed harshly before storming off to shower.

You dissolved into tears, sobbing at the way you had just been treated by the man who swore to love and protect you. Jack had never raised his voice to you and he had certainly never manhandled you. It was scaring you to see a side of him you’d never witnessed before. You also felt ashamed and embarrassed that you had disappointed him somehow.

That night, you barely spoke at dinner, but when you went to bed Jack reached for you in the dark. On instinct, you snuggled against him feeling relieved by the comfort of his arm bringing you close to his chest. He rubbed a thumb over your arm where he had grabbed you. “Did I hurt you, angel?” Jack asked, voice dripping with guilt.

“No, baby, I’m fine,” you assured him, but you didn’t move to kiss him as you normally would have. You just wanted him to keep holding you, reassuring you that there was still love between you. You listened to the steady beating of his heart trying to forget the night’s events and slip into a deep oblivious slumber.

——————————————————————————————

The next day you woke early, intending to go to the butcher for Jacks’ favorite cut of steak. As you strolled down the sidewalk, you wondered if you should say something to your husband about what had happened between you. You decided against it in the end because you were trying hard to please him. You also knew Jack was a man of his word. If he said he didn’t want to discuss it, he meant it. All you knew was that you wouldn’t ask questions of him again.

Outside the shop, a woman about your age fussed with a baby carriage. You had seen her several times recently around town. She had large, green eyes that tracked your movements cautiously as though she was prey watching a predator circle her. You wondered what could possibly make her so nervous.

As you passed, you looked over into the baby carriage to see an infant kicking at his blankets. “You have a beautiful child,” you remarked with a warm smile. Her eyes darted up and she froze for a moment seeing you standing so close to her. “Thank you,” she answered quietly. You gave her another encouraging smile and walked away thinking how oddly startled she had seemed.

————————————————————————————————

Your day would take another strange turn later that evening. Jack didn’t come home for dinner that night and didn’t call to explain his absence. You wrapped the food to save it for him and went to bed feeling sadder than you had in a long time. You drifted off to sleep thinking about the days of your courtship and how doting Jack had always been.

You were tossing fitfully in bed when you heard Jack return home. He didn’t come to the bedroom, however. You heard him kick off his shoes, turn on a lamp and go to the liquor cabinet. Tip-toeing down the hallway, you peeked around the corner to see your husband pick up the phone and ask the operator for a number you didn’t recognize. He waited for a moment before the other person answered, then said simply, “It’s done, he won’t bother us anymore.” Then he gently replaced the receiver. Crossing to sit in his favorite chair, you watched him nurse his drink. He then leaned forward to reach into his jacket pocket, removing a pistol. He laid it on the table next to him with a heavy thud. You clapped a hand over your mouth in shock. Shaking your head to rid yourself of the image, you hurried back to bed and pulled the covers over your eyes. You tried to convince yourself you hadn’t seen Jack with a weapon, but you couldn’t stop thinking about it. Who was this man you married?

————————————————————————————————Although you had lingering doubts about whether to talk to your husband about what you had seen, you didn’t raise any concerns with him. This was because Jack seemed to be trying to make you happy once again and you didn’t want to ruin his good mood. He was home earlier than he had been before and spoiled you with physical affection. It should have come as no surprise when you began feeling ill, rushing to empty the contents of your stomach anytime you tried to eat. After the fourth day of this, you were pale and weak. Jack insisted you let him call for a doctor. He put you to bed, then waited for the physician to arrive.

“You’re wife is perfectly healthy, Mr. Nelson,” the doctor determined.

“It’s probably just something I ate, gone bad,” you sat up to explain. Jack pushed you gently back into the pillows.

“No, I don’t think it’s that,” the doctor chuckled, barely containing his amusement at your naivety. “You’re expecting, Mrs. Nelson,” he said with a friendly smile.

“You should get some rest and take these vitamins I’m prescribing,” he advised.

Jack walked the doctor to the door and you sat in bed caressing your stomach. Although there wasn’t anything to feel yet, you were in awe of the new life growing inside you, part Jack and part you. You loved your child already.

When Jack returned to the bedroom, he sat on the edge of the bed carefully and kissed your forehead.

“Are you as happy as I am, Jack?” You asked smiling.

“Of course I am, angel, this is all I’ve ever wanted,” he said placing a large hand over your stomach. You covered his hand with yours, playing with his wedding ring. “You’re gonna be the best mother there ever was,” he cooed at you, smoothing your hair. “Now be a good girl and get rest like the doctor said, alright?” he said stroking your cheek. You nodded and nestled back into the pillows feeling contented and happy.

——————————————————————————————

Jack didn’t like you running errands in your condition, so he hired a housekeeper for you. Her name was Doris and she was a kind, older woman who helped with chores around the house and errands. Although it was nice to have help when you weren’t feeling well, you now felt a bit stifled. One cold winter morning, you announced your intention to go to the grocer and naturally Doris was grabbing her coat before you could stop her.

“You’re seven months gone and you can’t take off like you used to,” she scolded. You knew she meant well. Even though you were perfectly capable of doing this on your own, you agreed because you didn’t want to get Doris in trouble with Jack if he found out you had been out alone. She draped you in the thick fur coat Jack had recently bought for you before you headed out into the cold weather.

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When you arrived at the shop it was bustling with other housewives. However, something struck you as odd the moment you walked through the door. The jingle of the bell at the top of the door was the only sound as you entered, customers ceasing their movements to stare in your direction. You got the distinct feeling that these ladies had been talking about you before you walked in. You managed a small smile to dismiss your paranoia and began choosing your items with care.

As you turned from the shelves to place an item in your shopping basket, the familiar young woman with green eyes appeared in front of you looking distressed. Her eyes looked tired as though she hadn’t slept for some time. She bounced her baby in her arms and looked as though she might cry at any moment. “Who is going to explain to my boy?” You looked at her with a puzzled expression. You felt sorry for her, but you didn’t understand what was happening.

“Look at you shopping as though nothing was wrong! You don’t care do you?” She cried, as you took a few steps back from her. She advanced on you looking angry. “You should know that your husband is a wicked man!” she spat at you. The baby in her arms, sensing his mother’s agitation, erupted in a deafening wail. The young woman was quickly becoming as hysterical as her child, grabbing for your arm and clutching your wrist desperately. “My son will never know his father and you don’t care!” she shrieked. You recoiled in horror, feeling scared and confused.

An older woman came rushing over to pull her away from you. “Mary, please, let’s leave now,” she said sternly. Steering Mary by the shoulders, the older woman addressed you with an apologetic tone that bordered on groveling. “I’m so sorry, Mrs. Nelson. We didn’t mean to disturb your shopping,” she said bowing her head and backing away from you as though you were royalty. Then she whisked the younger woman away as the baby continued to flail and scream in his mother’s arms, but not before the young woman could steal one more cold look in your direction.

You rubbed your stomach protectively, haunted by the look in her eyes and the shrill cries of her child. What could she possibly mean? Jack was an upstanding member of the community, generously giving his time and money to help the church, orphanage and local police. You had no idea who would take issue with your wonderful, kind husband. Pulling you out of deep thought, Doris asked, “Mrs. Nelson, are you alright?”

You stood frozen in place before realizing Doris was examining your wrist for injury. You pulled away gently, rubbing your forearm. “Yes, I’m fine, thank you,” you managed before asking Doris to finish the shopping.

“This has all been a terrible mistake. She obviously doesn’t know me or my husband,” you rationalized to Doris on the walk home.

“But…she called you by name, ma’am…,” Doris said before going silent.

—————————————————————————————

Jack arrived early for dinner that night. Placing his suit jacket on a chair, he came over to the stove to kiss you on your temple and run a hand over your bump. “Hello, beautiful,” he whispered as he pinched your bottom.

“Jack, you’ll make me spill the sauce!” You squealed, then let out a girlish laugh.

“Good evening, Mr. Nelson,” Doris said as she passed through the kitchen.

“Doris, I thought you would have gone home by now?” Jack questioned as he took a sip of whisky from his glass.

Doris busied herself setting the table for your dinner as she answered absent-mindedly, “Well, I wanted to be sure Mrs. Nelson was being looked after, especially after that crazy woman started a tussle in the store today.” As soon as she said it, she realized she shouldn’t have mentioned the incident, but it was too late.

Jack’s face changed instantly from a smile to a deep scowl. Giving Doris his full attention, Jack asked “What exactly happened today?” in a stern tone that let your housekeeper know he was serious about knowing the truth.

“Jack, don’t interrogate her. It was nothing!” you replied.

Placing a hand on your shoulder Jack squeezed a little too tightly signaling for you to be quiet as he addressed Doris again.

“I asked you a question…What happened to my wife?” He questioned, his voice turning into a low growl.

“A woman grabbed her arm, that’s all, Mr. Nelson,” Doris answered trying to keep her voice even and calm to counteract the rage she saw brewing in Jack’s eyes.

“She was a silly woman, talking nonsense about you and how her son wouldn’t have a father. No truth to it, sir, so I wouldn’t concern yourself.” “I shouldn’t concern myself with my wife’s well-being?” Jack narrowed his eyes at Doris spitefully. “And how the fuck could you let that happen? I employ you to look after her and my child,” he threw his glass down, shattering it in pieces that fell at your feet. You stooped to pick up the pieces with a dishcloth, an excuse to avoid your husband’s terrifying temper.

Doris tried to protest, but Jack cut her off saying, “You’re obviously too incompetent to handle that though. You’re fired!”

The argument was punctuated by the sharp hiss you released as a large shard of glass cut your hand. Blood sprung from the cut and began dripping on the floor as you rushed to the sink to wash out the wound. Your distress pulled Jack from his fog. “Oh, God, angel, I didn’t mean to do that.” He came to help you wrap your hand in a cloth to stop the bleeding, but you cowered away from him. Steadying yourself with a deep breath, you stated, “It’s getting late, Jack, Doris will want to get home now.” You hoped he would let her leave so one of you could escape the house.

Jack nodded absently in agreement, still concerned about your hand, and Doris scurried from the kitchen without looking at either of you. When Doris had gone, Jack dropped into a kitchen chair sighing deeply. Then more to himself than to you, he shook his head and mumbled, “Can’t trust nobody around here.”

Looking up at you he asked, “You haven’t been talkin’ to anyone about my work, have you, angel?” Your heart raced at the thought of your horrible evening months ago. You hadn’t breathed a word to anyone. Stumbling over your words you replied, “N-n-no, I would never…no, Jack.”

Seeing you upset, Jack stood and offered you his seat. He tipped your chin up to look at him and said, “Some people are jealous and nosy, y/n. I’d hate for someone to get the wrong impression about what I do.” You blinked up at him, giving him a small nod.

“But I don’t know what you do, Jack,” you thought.

#jack nelson #jack Nelson x reader #odarecomends

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oddaodd · 2 years

Text

I’m glad you liked it, lovely! ❤️💐

· Birthday Pearls ·

Summary: The reader wants Tommy to spend her birthday with her, but he’s busy.

Warnings: Hints of smut.

Author’s note: I’ve had this idea floating around my mind for ages and this morning I woke up inspired to finally write it so yay for me. As always, I hope you all have the loveliest of days. ❤️

“Can’t you stay?” Y/n asked, her finger tracing tommy’s chest tattoo.

“You know I never stay” he spoke raspily, his breath a bit uneven after having made her cum twice that evening.

Y/n hummed “Just tonight?”

“What’s different from any other night?” He asked getting out of her embrace and warm bed unbeknowingly discouraging Y/n a little.

“Tomorrow’s my birthday.” She admitted prompting herself on her elbow as she watched him get dressed “I want to go to an art market in London and I thought you could come with me” she added, the ending coming out as a bit of a question.

Tommy stopped buttoning his shirt for a few seconds “Tomorrow’s a busy day” it was the truth.

“Every day is a busy day for you” Y/n sighed laying back down on her bed, feeling a bit more than disappointed.

“Im a busy man” he replied and turned to look at her after he was fully dressed “You can ask Linda, right?” He asked feeling a bit guilty.

Y/n gave him a fake smile. “Yeah, Sure.”

Truth was, she didn’t know where her relationship to her cousin stood. When Y/n moved to Small Heath to get a change of scenario, Linda took her into her home as she looked for her own place, which Y/n thanked immensely. But fact remained, they were too different from each other and Linda started avoiding her when she found out her little cousin had Thomas Shelby in her bed every other night.

“Mind showing yourself out?” She asked him continuing with her fracade with fake humor “I’m a bit too sore to walk”

Tommy hummed and walked over to her bed again, pressing a kiss to her lips before making his way out of her room. It wasn’t till the sound of her front door closing ran through her house that she allowed some tears to spill.

The next morning, she woke up feeling determined to have a good day despite the splinter she felt in her heart. She played one of her favorite records on her gramophone before taking a shower and singing loudly the lyrics. It wasn’t going to be a blue day. She put on her favorite dress and painted her lips red before stepping out o her house and driving to London. Whenever she felt loneliness creeping up her back she sang happy songs and drove a bit faster. Due to this, she arrived in London in no time.

The day went by rather fast. She mingled with shoppers and amateur painters as she stared at newfound art and found herself compelled to buy more than 5 different paintings. It was, after all her birthday so why not splurge a bit. When the sky began turning dark she headed beck to Birmingham. A bittersweet feeling at the base of her throat. She was content with how her day had gone, but she couldn’t shake the feeling of profound loneliness anymore.

“Jesus, you scared me!” She gasped placing her hand over her chest when she say Tommy sitting comfortably in one of her sofas when she entered her house. “What are you doing here?” She asked mustering a soft tone. She was hoping to be able to cry freely in her home but she couldn’t do the with Tommy there.

“I saw Linda at the shop today. Thought you were going to call her?” He asked

“Yeah , she and I aren’t exactly on speaking terms” Y/n confessed “Thinks my soul in on a downward spiral to hell” she added trying to joke it away as she set the paintings she bought, against a wall.

“Why didn’t you tell me so yesterday?” Tommy insisted.

“Because I didn’t want you to…pity me for not having anyone to spend my birthday with” she admitted embarrassedly removing her gloves.

“Y/N”Tommy began. But Y/n felt she was about to cry any moment now so she interrupted him.

“Want tea?”

She didn’t even wait for his answer and made a beeline to her tiny kitchen. Her shaky hands finding her favorite teacup and cups Why am I like this? She thought to herself. As she was filling the teapot with water she heard Tommy setting a record on her gramophone. Soft music flowed through her house as the sound of Tommys footsteps came behind her. He took the teapot from her nervous hands and placed it on the table before taking her hands in his and placing them on his shoulders, his hands trailing to her waist. He began softly swaying to the music and Y/n let her head rest on his chest with a sigh. The sound of music was the only thing that kept them from being in complete silence aside the occasional sniff from Y/N.

“I’ve always been alone” she spoke with a sigh after a couple of songs. “Never minded it before, I don’t now why I do now”

“You’re not alone” his chest vibrated softly as he spoke. “I got you something”

Y/n chuckled tearily “you did?”

Tommy hummed and parted a bit from her so he could look at her “close your eyes”

She gave him a quizzical look.

“Just close them, eh” he pressed.

Y/n closed her eyes and felt Tommys hands leave her waist, she heard his footsteps traveling till he was behind her and then she felt a cold dainty thread slipping around her neck. Tommy guided her to the mirror she kept over her fireplace “you can open them now”

She wasted no time in doing so and was met with the sight of her reflection staring at the tiny pearl Tommy put around her neck

“I know you love the ocean, so this seemed appropriate” he spoke tenderly as she watched her admiring the gift, her eyes filling with tears.

“I love it” she whispered shakily before turning around in Tommy’s arms and kissing him.

He corresponded the kiss which soon turned passionate. “Im sorry I wasn’t with you today” he spoke between kisses as he carried her upstairs.

“You’re here now” she whispered against his lips.

That night he made love to her instead of just fucking her and when Y/n woke up the next morning she smiled at the feeling of tommy’s arms holding her close to his naked body.

@captivatedbycillianmurphy @peakyxtommy @lilymurphy03 @writeroutoftime @nyotamalfoy

#self reblog

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