Duckybird101 - 🐾🐈‍⬛📚🐈🐾

Leave a comment if you'd like to join my taglist❤️

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x OC

A/N: The stories will follow the show's timeline only partially, many characters will have different stories than the original ones.

Some characters, places or events do not correspond to the TV show, I am only granted some "licenses".

I don't own any rights to TWD or its characters, scene or original dialogue.

I own only Summer and the main plot of the story, do not copy or use without permission.

English is not my first language so I apologize in advance for every mistake.

Especially the ones you'll find in Daryl's speech.

Writing using a southern accent is something I don't do very well and I hope you can understand me and even help me sometimes.

Constructive criticism is always welcome.

Warnings: For anyone who has seen The Walking Dead knows exactly how the show works and what kind of crude topics are often shown.

I already warn you that each of my chapters will contain a different trigger that will not be reported at the beginning of the chapter so anyone who doesn't feel comfortable with these topics is better not reading my story.

This story contains mature content, including:

Graphic scene, strong language, gore, death, violence, sex, racism, pregnancy, miscarriage, weapon, drugs, abuse, blood, alcohol, self arm.

Age gap: Daryl is 35 years old and Summer is 24 years old.

Summary: Summer is a sweet, cheerful girl in love with life.

Her parents love her more than anything in the world and she could never imagine not having them by her side.

But then the apocalypse takes all of that away from her.

Nowadays she is only a shadow of what she was.

She was forced to run away from the only man she believed could love and protect her forever.

She finds herself alone and exhausted in the middle of the woods, waiting to die.

But then a mysterious man saves her.

Daryl.

A man with a past full of demons.

Maybe their meeting will decree the survival of the girl and the rebirth of the archer.

Between lies and secrets will they ever find some peace in the end?

Is there still room in this world for feelings like love, friendship and honor?

Or will fears and misunderstandings do nothing but drive them away from each other, allowing themselves to be devoured by their own mistakes?

🔥Moodboard🔥

Prologue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10 coming soon

We'll Make It Work

Pairing: Daryl Dixon X Reader

Word count: 2.6 K

Summary: You're annoying the hell out of everyone until your child decides it's time to see the world.

{The Walking Dead Masterlist}

×

You were lucky to find Alexandria just in time. You were around a month pregnant when you came inside the walls for the first time, and you were more than happy to have a safe place to stay during the pregnancy.

The group is still getting used to everything, struggling to make it work, to make this place a fortified city instead of just a Sanctuary. Rick managed to speak some sense into Deanna, but the details will be kept from you until you deliver the baby.

“I am huge!” You exclaim, putting your feet up on the coffee table, both hands in your swollen stomach. You spend most of the time seated now because your back hurts like a bitch.

“Yer still tiny,” Daryl mutters from the kitchen with a grunt.

“Compared to you I am.” Shrugging your shoulders, you turn at the door when you hear a noise. Soon enough, Glenn, Michonne, and Rick come in, and Maggie follows after a while. They immediately come to you, all smiles and shiny eyes.

You were always very friendly, so they respond the same way. And you love the attention you've been getting, mostly in your condition.

“How's this little one?” Michonne asks, settling down next to you.

“There's a baby in here.” You whisper, both hands pointing at your belly.

“That's kinda obvious at this point.” Glenn rolls his eyes as he drops to the armchair.

“Daryl put it in here.” You continue, ignoring Glenn's grunt completely.

You enjoy saying silly things, annoying the group. It started back at the farm when you met them because, in the middle of this mess, you want to make them smile. Even if it's just for a moment. And now, with your hormones all boiling, you enjoy it even more.

“We know.” Rick mumbles, giggling a little.

“How did you managed to get knocked up on the road?” Maggie asks, sharing the armchair with her husband.

“It was her fault,” Daryl speaks up before you can, coming to the living room and sitting down next to you, making Michonne move aside.

“My fault?” Chuckling, you look at him. “It's not my fault you comply every time I say ‘please’.”

The small group laughs, and Daryl gives them a hard look. “It ain't true.”

“It is.” Crossing your arms the best you can, you look away. “Can I have some water, please?”

“Alright.” He moves to stand up, but since you can't keep yourself from laughing, Daryl hears it, settling back down and giving you a stare. “Really, (Y/N)?”

“My point was made.” You breathe out, innocently shrugging your shoulders.

“Yer stepping way beyond the line.”

“Oh, am I, D? Am I?” Grabbing his arm, you start shaking lightly. “C'mon, give me some attention! I'm huge and I'm uncomfortable.” Whining a little, you take his hand, bringing it to your belly. “Look. I'm carrying your baby.”

Daryl dramatically rolls his eyes before moving closer, and you're quick to snuggle on to him.

“It's still very weird to see how you get to annoy Daryl without him lashing out on you.” Glenn says, ignoring your husband's hard glance. “Anyone else does that, God help them.”

“But sometimes he gets mad.” You point out, head laying on his shoulder. “Some days ago I woke up in the middle of the night and I couldn't sleep. So I decided to make a quick test. Because what if my water breaks and Daryl is sleeping.”

“Do ya have to tell them everythin’?” Daryl mumbles, and you raise your head to look into those ocean blue eyes.

“We're family. We tell each other things.” Batting your eyelashes, you rub his arm. “C'mon, D. Let me tell them, please. It's not even a big deal.” You know you don't have to ask. If you want, you'll just say it, but right now you got into the annoying Daryl mode, and you'll do everything you can to push some buttons.

“Fine.” He mutters, and you peck his lips.

“So....” Turning your attention back at the visitors, you continue. “I said, really low ‘Daryl, help me’. And his eyes just opened, so fast that it startled me.”

“Awnn,” Michonne says, in a teasing voice.

Daryl's neck goes red, and you bite back a giggle. “But then he got angry at me. Can you believe that?”

“Daryl got angry because you woke him up in the middle of the night for nothing?” Rick asks, a smile struggling to make its way to his lips. “Unbelievable.”

“Today she's buggin’ me. Tomorrow she'll pick one of ya.” Daryl mutters and Rick's half-smile drops. “Yeah, buddy. I got her pregnant but ya'll be payin’ for it.”

“Hey!” Punching his arm lightly, you complain. “I annoy those I love.”

“Yeah, ya love me a damn lot.”

“Of course, I–” You're cut short when a sharp pain rips through your pelvis, spreading through your hips and back. “Oh, shit.”

“What?” Daryl asks worried eyes on you.

“It's just– Holy shit!” You yell, squeezing Daryl's bicep. “Something is off.”

“Let's take her to...” Maggie's voice fades as you feel something flowing... Out. Soaking your sweatpants in between your legs.

For a moment, you stop, a breath caught in your throat as you look at the wetness ruining the couch. “That's disgusting.” You mumble, but your silly comment is overcome by a yell and the pains come back. And that's how you know it.

“The baby is coming,” Maggie says, and Daryl picks you up. “Take her upstairs. Glenn, get Carol and Denise. Michonne, come with me.” She commands as Daryl carries you upstairs to the bedroom, carefully laying you down on the bed.

“Goddamn it, it hurts!” You shout, moving to rest your back on the headrest. “Shit. Isn't it a little early?”

“You're around week 36 or 39. So it's time.” Maggie is quick to answer, pulling your pants off.

“Hey, hey! What are you doing?” Kicking her hands away, you bite back a groan.

“(Y/N), there's no–” She's cut short when you yell again, tears pooling in your eyes. “No time for that.”

“So what? I spread my legs and push?”

“First of all, get out if you don't have a uterus and is not the father,” Carol says the moment she steps inside the room. Glenn and Rick are quick to leave before exchanging a glance with their respective wives.

“So who am I going to– HOLY SHIT!” Tears roll down, and Daryl comes to sit next to you, holding your hand. “Alright, take Daryl's child off of me!”

“Ok. I'll check how much you're dilated,” Denise says, sitting on the edge of the bed. You swallow the embarrassment with another wave of pain, spreading your legs.

“Shit, shit, shit, shit.” You chant, eyes tightly closed.

“It'll take some time.”

“What do you mean it'll take some time?!”

“I think Daryl might have a heart attack today,” Michonne whispers, but not low enough, so you hear it.

“Your time will come, my friend.” With a wicked smile, you point a finger at her. “You'll get knocked up too, you'll see, Mi. You'll see and I'll be–” Throwing your head back, you cover your mouth with a hand, but a groan escapes anyway. “It hurts a lot more than when I broke my leg.” You mutter once the pain lowers a little, breathing out.

“M’ right here with ya.” Daryl finally seems to have found his voice again, taking your hand in his. When you look at him, there's a different kind of worry on his face. You've never seen the man so... Scared? And you know Daryl. He isn't scared of anything.

“What if I die from the pain?” You suddenly ask, countless tears rolling down this time. “Can someone just drop dead when the pain is too great?”

“Yer strong, (Y/N), ya can do it. I know it hurts.”

“You don't know how much it hurts, you're a guy.” And just like that, you're back in annoying mode again. But what else can you do? You're in pain, the worst pain you ever felt in your life. And when Denise checks you again, nothing changed yet.

“Four centimeters, (Y/N). You'll have to wait.” She updates you.

“Can't I just start pushing already?” Asking through gritted teeth, you squeeze Daryl's hand.

“No. It would make you tired and cause your cervix to swell. And that could delay the delivery even more.” She speaks slow, fixing the sheet so it'll cover your privates again. “But you can pant or blow or–”

“BLOODY HELL.”

“She never said that before.”

“Oh, shut up, Mags!” You snap back, breathing fast. “How long will it take?”

“Maybe some hours.”

“MAYBE SOME FREAKING HOURS?” Looking at Daryl again, you blink to push off some tears. “Help me, D. I need a distraction.”

“Remember in the prison, when I was trynna stay away from ya but ya kept followin’ me around?” Daryl starts, his voice as soft as silk as he moves a little, placing your back on his chest.

“Mhmm.” You nod, focusing on his voice and your breathing.

“It was rainin’ and ya slipped on a puddle and fell on yer ass.”

“Seriously, Daryl. That's very insulting of you.” Rolling your eyes, you can't help but go back there. You had a huge crush on Daryl, the mysterious man with a crossbow, and you knew he used to stare at you. So you made a move, trying everything to get through his walls. He was looking amazing, with his short hair dripping from the rain. And while you were on the ground, cheeks red and feeling stupid, you heard what soon became your favorite sound in the world. His laughter. Daryl reached out his hand and you took it, welcoming the warm touch.

“That was when I knew I'd fall for ya.” He continues, you now, your crying for a whole different reason. “I know it hurts like a bitch, and there's nothin’ I can do ta’ help ya, but we're about to meet our baby.”

“I know.” Nodding, you wipe some tears away. “I love you, D.” You manage to push out right before the pain overwhelms you again, making you yell once more.

“I love you, (Y/N). Jus’ a while longer now. I'll be right here with ya.”

That while became two hours. Two long hours of constant and intense pain. Maggie got the guys in the bedroom again, because you were impossible, and you could use someone to lash out on.

It's nice of them to take your insults. They're all silly, most of them memories of when they did something stupid. You did throw a pillow at Glenn though, and he had the decency of letting it hit his face.

“She's ready,” Denise says suddenly, after chacking you for the hundredth time.

“Alright, out.” Carol grunts and the guys leave as fast as a rocket.

“Alright, (Y/N). Now you can push, ok?” Denise spreads your legs a little further, and Daryl grabs the right thigh as you hold the other. “It'll hurt, but you have to keep pushing.”

“Fine, fine.”

“Now. Push!” And so you do, holding your breath and biting your lip. You taste a bit of blood in your mouth, so you free the lower lip before you damage it too much. “Good! The baby is in position, I can see the head. Push!”

“HOLY SHIT!” You complain, losing your strength for a while.

“Good. You're doing good!”

“I'm not going to have any more babies!”

“Didn't you say you wanted like four kids?” Maggie asks, hands on her hips, a little worried.

“That was because I didn't know how hard it would be to push one out of me!” Whining a little, you rest your head back, on Daryl's chest.

“(Y/N), focus! Push!”

“I'M PUSHING, DAMN IT!” You burst out, at the same time you comply.

“Good! The head is out, one more.”

And so you do, grabbing Daryl's forearm and squeezing it. Then a cry breaks through, and Denise moves. Your eyes are quick to follow the tiny human in her arms. Carol takes the baby, wrapping a little blanket around it.

“Mr. and Mrs. Dixon, you have a baby girl.” She says, smiling at you. “I'll get her cleaned up, it'll only be a moment, alright?”

“Alright.” Breathing out, relieved that the pain surrendered, you look at Daryl, a hand caressing his face. “You were right, babe. It's a–” You're cut short again when the pressure comes back, and you yell, right on Daryl's face. His expression changes suddenly, eyebrows furrowed.

“What?” He asks, and you both turn to look at Denise, who also seems confused.

“DAMN IT! DENISE WHAT THE HELL!” You cry, wondering if there's something wrong.

“Denise, what's goin’ on?” Daryl grunts, a little angry.

The woman returns to her place, lifting the sheet at the same moment you spread your legs again. “Oh, boy.” She mumbles, pushing your legs further apart. “There' another baby coming.”

“What?” You and Daryl exclaim at the same time. But he's quick to return to his previous position, holding your thigh.

“This will be easier. Push!”

Using whatever is left of your strength, you push again, taking the heavens when you hear the cry. And the pain fades faster this time, as you once again try to catch your breath.

“It's a boy now.” She smiles, and Maggie is quick to take the baby from her arms before joining Carol in the bathroom.

“Denise, check if there aren't any other babies inside me, please.” You mutter resting against Daryl as she starts cleaning you up.

“No, there isn't.” She giggles. “I kinda suspected it, you know. Your belly was growing faster than usual for a first-time mom, and was bigger too.”

“My God, we have twins.” Turning at Daryl with wide eyes, you grab a fistful of his vest. “Daryl Dixon you didn't put one baby in me. You put two.”

Instead of sassing back, he smiles, leaning closer to kiss your lips. Caressing his cheek, you surrender into the kiss, only pulling away when you hear Carol coming with Maggie from the bathroom.

“Well, mommy and daddy. Here are your twins.” Carol says, passing the girl over to you as Maggie gives the boy to Daryl.

The babies are the most beautiful thing you've ever seen and you have two of them. You're scared because it'll be hard to raise two kids in this world. But you decide to leave this worry for later. Right now, you just want to enjoy this moment, the happiest day of your life.

“Thank you,” Daryl says in a low voice, placing a kiss on your temple. “I never thought I'd had a family for myself. And ya gave me that, even though I don't deserve it.”

“You deserve it, D. I love you.” Kissing him again, you rest your forehead against his for a while.

“You're all set,” Denise says, standing up. “Can I let the guys in?”

You nod, and Maggie is the one to open the door. Rick and Glenn come in quickly, eyes going wide when they see the babies.

“I think I'm seeing double,” Glenn mutters, kindly smiling at you. “But congratulations.”

“What will be the names?” Rick asks.

“The girl will be Sophie,” Daryl says, giving Carol a look, and the woman smiles. “And the boy will be James, after (Y/N)'s a late brother.”

“Yeah.” Nodding, you wipe a tear away. “I know–I know it'll be hard but... We can do it... Right?”

“We'll do it together, all of us,” Rick says, and the others agree. “Like a family. We'll make it work.”

“We will.” Taking a deep breath, you look at your babies once again, heart filled with joy. “We will.”

Living with the Past

Summary: You moved to the small quiet town of Hawkins after transferring from the NYPD and reunite with your old partner, Jim Hopper. However, Hawkins isn't as quiet as it seems, and your past follows you there.

Pairing: Jim Hopper x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 3.8k

Warnings: Language, violence, past abuse

Chapter 1- paperwork, coffee & rotten pumpkins

Transferring from the NYPD to Hawkins PD had been drastic. You went from getting paid as a detective working homicide in the big city to working in a small country town as a Deputy on half the wage.

Your co-workers at Hawkins thought you were crazy for it, but they didn't know why you moved. They didn't know the reason behind the sudden shift across the country and you sure as hell weren't going to tell them.

It wasn't all bad though.

You and Hopper used to be partners back in New York in the homicide unit, until he moved away after his daughter died. It sucked when he left town, but you understood why he left, especially after him and his wife got divorced.

However, that understanding didn't make it any easier without him, especially when the boss introduced you to your new work partner a week later and he was a total dick.

"Have I ever told you guys about how much I hate paperwork?" Callahan asked, looking over at you and Powell across the room.

"I think you've said it nearly every day since I started working here." You answered, rubbing your face with your hands trying to wake yourself up as you stared down at the stack of files on your desk.

He was right though, paperwork did suck.

"Try every day for the last three years. It gets annoying, trust me." Powell mumbled, his head down busy working.

Callahan rolled his eyes, and you covered up your laugh with a cough while looking between the two men in amusement.

It had been a couple of weeks since you first stepped foot in Hawkins after leaving the busy city streets of New York behind. You had expected to feel like an outcast at the station. The other officers had all grown up together in this small town. Some had even been in the same courses at the Police Academy. They all had chemistry and strong connections to one another, and they were all men.

From experience, male Police Officers tended to dislike female colleagues, however, your new fellow Deputies had welcomed you with open arms. They were all friendly and treated you like an equal which was more than what any of your old work colleagues had done back in New York.

It shouldn't have been a surprise though because Jim Hopper wouldn't let any discrimination or hate slide when it came to you.

He had your back in New York and stood up for you when no one else would. Even after all these years, nothing had changed.

The Chief had put you on the same shift rotation as Powell and Callahan since your first day. The two Deputies had taken you under their wing without hesitation.

Calvin Powell was an older yet brilliant deputy. He was stern and tough when it came to the law, and was serious about his job, but was always up for a good laugh. He had taught you a lot in your short time with Hawkins PD and was always happy to answer any questions you had.

Phil Callahan was the exact opposite.

He was the jokester of the station and although he was always cracking jokes and acting some would say, childish, he was a damn good deputy. He was constantly the first one out the door whenever a job came up and was always ready to help with anything.

"This isn't a laughing matter, Jim. This is serious."

You looked up from your paperwork at the unfamiliar voice to find Hopper walking into the station followed by a balding guy with a beard who you had never seen before.

Hopper groaned dramatically at the stranger's words and hung his coat up on the rack by the front door.

Well, whoever that guy was, the Chief did not like him.

"I really got something here. I'm telling you." The guy insisted.

"Morning, Chief." Powell greeted, actually looking up from his desk as he spoke before he spotted the other guy and grinned, "morning, Murray."

"Got any proof on your butt probin' aliens yet, Murray?" Callahan asked causing your head to snap towards him.

"What? Who the hell is this guy?" You asked.

"Murray Bauman. Used to be an Investigative Journalist in Hawkins, now he's some kind of Private Investigator, but he believes all these weird conspiracy theories and stuff." Callahan whispered, leaning over your joined desks towards you as he spoke.

"That sounds... interesting." You answered, choosing your words carefully.

You looked back over at Murray just as Hopper grabbed one of the donuts from the bench, but Flo was hot on his tail and snatched the glazed donut from his hand and replaced it with an apple.

Hopper glared at her, and you tried not to laugh at the annoyed look on his face, but he accepted the fruit anyway and took a bite out of it.

"I believe there was, and may still be, a Russian spy presence in Hawkins." Murray continued to say.

"Russian spies?" Hopper asked, amusement clear in his voice as he began pouring himself a cup of coffee.

"Are the spies in cahoots with the aliens? Or how do they fit in here? I'm confused." Callahan commented causing you to snort softly.

Hopper just smirked and filled up another mug of coffee before grabbing both and walking over to your desk, placing the second mug down in front of you.

You smiled, "thank you. I needed this."

"I could tell. You look tired."

"Just what every girl wants to hear." You mumbled into the coffee cup as you took a sip and sighed at the warm taste of caffeine.

"I'm talking multiple reports now." Murray continued to say, his voice raised a little louder. "Multiple reports, okay? Of a Russian child in Hawkins."

"A child? What are you talking about?" Hopper questioned, now suddenly interested in what this man had to say.

"A girl who may have psionic abilities."

"'Psionic'?" Powell asked in confusion.

"Psychic." Murray corrected.

"Hey Chief. What about that girl that made that kid pee himself?" Callahan asked and okay, what? Now you had questions.

"It was just a prank." Hopper answered, dismissing his Deputy quickly before turning to Murray. "You got five minutes. Not a second more."

You watched as Hopper led Murray across the room into his own private office, closing the door behind him. You glanced over at Callahan and Powell who both shrugged their shoulders and went back to work, like it was normal for a man to walk in and start talking about Russian spies and kids with powers. Maybe it was normal for Hawkins.

Within 60 seconds, the Chief's door opened and a rather pissed off looking Murray stepped out. He spared one glance at the rest of you before he turned and walked out the station before Hopper emerged from his office.

"Who wants to get out the office for a bit? We got a job."

"Me!" You and Callahan both quickly said at the same time.

Hopper looked between the two of you, "Y/N, let's go."

"Oh, come on!" Callahan whined. "You always choose her."

"Maybe I like her better than you. Ya ever think about that?" Hopper asked, grabbing his jacket from the rack, and slipping it on.

"We all know why you like her." Callahan mumbled under his breath causing Powell to kick his feet under the desk.

You looked between the two of them suspiciously, Hopper just bluntly ignoring them before you chugged the last of your coffee and followed the Chief out the station.

You jumped into the passenger seat of his Chevy Blazer, instantly reaching for the dial of the heater and cranking it up as Hopper reversed out the parking lot.

"So, what's the job?"

"Pumpkins that have been contaminated by a vengeful neighbour." He answered causing you to look over at him in disbelief.

"You're shitting me, right? Pumpkins?"

He chuckled softly, "I shit you not."

"How'd I go from investigating murders to investigating pumpkins?" You asked aloud causing him to laugh.

"You're the one who put in your transfer to Hawkins. This is on you." He reminded.

Yeah, that was true.

You nodded, knowing he was right, and you glanced out the window as Hopper drove, the faint music from the radio filling the silence.

"Why did you transfer here? Not that I'm complaining, I just... I thought you loved it in New York."

This wasn't the first time he had asked. Hell, it wasn't even the second, but you kept dodging the question.

"Just needed a fresh start. A change of scenery I guess." You answered, which wasn't a total lie.

You could feel Hopper staring at you out the corner of your eye, but you kept your head forward, knowing if you looked at him, he would be able to see straight through you. After all those years working together, you had gotten to know each other really well, to the point where you knew when the other was lying.

Hopper just hummed in response, despite knowing there was more to the story, but to your relief, he didn't try to pry, and you were grateful for that.

It didn't take long to reach the small pumpkin farm on the outskirts of Hawkins. If you were being honest, you forgot these kinds of farms existed. But of course, they did, you just never really thought about it until now.

The farmer was adamant that his neighbour had poisoned his crops. Stating that the pumpkins were perfectly fine yesterday, but when he woke up this morning, they were rotten.

After inspecting the large fields of pumpkins, every single vegetable was in fact rotten and Hopper told him that he was going to look into it before you both climbed back into the car.

"There is no way these pumpkins turned rotten like that overnight." You said, the second your car door was shut. "What do you think happened?"

"I honestly have no idea. It's been cold, maybe frost got to them."

"Good theory. Try telling that to him though." You said, nodding at the farmer who was still standing by his ruined crop.

Hopper grunted, "he can accept whatever I tell him."

He turned the key in the ignition, bringing the old Chevy to life with a roar before tapping it into gear and driving back down the dirt road to Hawkins.

Instead of going back to the station like you assumed he would have, Hopper instead pulled up to the diner on main street and before you knew it, the two of you were sitting inside and eating breakfast.

"I missed this." You found yourself saying before thinking better of it.

Hopper looked up at you from across the booth, his fork halfway to his mouth, "missed pancakes?" he asked in confusion.

"No." You chuckled, shaking your head. "No, I missed this. Us. Working together. It feels like old times."

Back in New York, you were the first woman to join the homicide unit. All the guys hated it. They didn't believe a girl could do the job as well as men and they despised you for it. They all treated you like garbage despite the fact that you were better than half the team, but they still hated you, except for Hopper.

He was the only one who treated you like a normal person. At first, he was a little apprehensive, but that was because he had been used to working solo and wasn't expecting the Superintendent to suddenly give him a partner, especially not some random chick he had never met before.

The two of you had hit it off straight away though. You didn't take any of his crap and he respected that, and you made quite a team.

"Ah, yes. Because we used to deal with crime scenes of rotten pumpkins and eat in diners all the time back in New York." He said sarcastically, snapping you out of your thoughts.

"Well, if you replace pumpkins with dead bodies. The farmer with a serial killer and these pancakes in this diner for a packet of candy in the stakeout van, then yes."

Hopper snorted, taking another bite of his pancakes as he shook his head with a smile.

"I missed working with you too." He admitted once he finished his mouthful. "I still can't believe you transferred here though."

"I'm starting to regret it after that thrilling morning on the farm." You joked, but Hopper shook his head.

"Nah, you don't. You'd miss me too much if you left Hawkins."

Yeah, you would.

"In your dreams." You said instead because like hell you were going to admit that.

You liked Hopper. You even had a crush on him back in New York when you first joined, but after finding out that he was married with a kid, you quickly pushed your feelings aside and the two of you became best friends.

"You seeing anyone?" He randomly asked causing you to nearly choke on your coffee.

"What?" You asked, covering your mouth as you coughed.

"Are you seeing anyone? You got a boyfriend or anything?" He clarified.

"Oh, no, no. I'm single." You answered, shrugging your shoulders hoping it looked casual. "What about you? Have you found someone in this town to settle down with?"

Hopper opened his mouth to answer before his eyes widened like he just realised something, and he quickly rolled up his sleeve to look at his watch.

"Shit. Shit. I was meant to meet Joyce at the lab ten minutes ago."

Joyce? Who was Joyce?

"I need to go. I'll drop you off on my way." He said, throwing down some money on the table and eating his last pancake before the two of you left the diner and climbed back into the car.

"Hawkins lab?" You asked, looking over at him as he pulled out the parking lot and sped in the direction of the station. "What's at Hawkins lab that's so important?"

"Nothing. It's nothing important. Just promised Joyce I'd help her out with something." He dismissed, not going into any detail.

You wanted to push for an answer but decided against it. He would tell you if he wanted to and frankly, it wasn't any of your business, but you couldn't help but feel a little sad hearing about Joyce.

Was she his girlfriend? He never did answer your question earlier.

Hopper dropped you off back at the station and the rest of your shift was mainly just sitting behind the desk doing paperwork, until an old lady called about a noise complained, so you went out with Powell and Callahan to deal with that.

The day went by surprisingly quickly and before you knew it, you were standing back in that pumpkin crop the following day with Hopper because now it wasn't just one person's crop that had turned rotten. It was several.

"Now, you try telling me with a straight face that cold did this." The farmer said, pointing at his destroyed crop.

Yeah, he had a point.

Frost might have gotten some of the pumpkins, but not this many and this quickly. Plus, for October, it hadn't been super cold yet, so it didn't make any sense.

"How far does it go?" You asked curiously, wondering if whatever was destroying the pumpkins was hurting other plant life in the area.

The farmer just motioned for the two of you to follow him as he walked towards the woods by the boundary line of his crop and your jaw dropped when you realised that the trees and bushes on the edge of the woods had turned rotten too.

Okay, this was definitely not the cold. What the hell did all this?

"What the fuck?" You whispered to yourself, lifting your hand, and touching the rotten tree trunk to find this gooey slimy substance all over it.

Hopper appeared beside you and quickly grabbed your wrist, pulling your hand away from the slime.

"Hey, Chief, you copy?" Powell's voice called over the radio.

Hopper grabbed his radio from his belt and held it to his mouth. "How's it looking over there?"

"Like a giant pissed all over Jack's bean field. Smells, too. It smell over there?"

"Where doesn't it smell?" You questioned, grimacing at the gross rotten stench that covered the entire farm.

You'd nearly rather the stench from old dead bodies than this... okay, no, that's a lie. There was nothing that smelt worse than that, but this was a close second.

"Yeah, little bit. Listen. I want you guys to track the rot, see how far it goes. Just, uh, mark anything that's dead." Hopper instructed through the radio.

"That's gonna take some time." Powell pointed out.

"So take it. And look, we don't know what caused this. Could be poison. So don't touch anything without gloves." He ordered, pointily staring at you with the last sentence and you gave him a guilty look.

"Copy that, Chief."

He slipped the radio back into the pouch on his belt before turning towards you with a questioning look, "you good to work some overtime?"

"I got no plans tonight. Let's get started." You said and Hopper nodded his appreciation before the two of you got to work.

The farmer had supplied marker flags, so you and Hopper spent the next few hours walking through the woods and placing a flag by everything rotten while Powell and Callahan did the same at the other farm.

By nightfall, it was finally finished, and Hopper gave you all permission to start late tomorrow morning so you could actually get a decent night's sleep.

"I have to basically drive past your house to get home, want a lift?" He asked, climbing into the Chevy.

"My truck is at the station. I won't be able to-"

"I can pick you up in the morning."

You nodded, "that would work. Thank you."

You climbed into the passenger side of his car before Hopper started the Chevy and began to drive away. He barely got a few metres down the dirt driveway before he suddenly slammed on the brakes and put the car into reverse.

"What are you doing?" You asked, figuring he must have forgotten something.

He didn't answer though, instead he rolled down his window and stuck his head out and called out to the little kid walking towards the farmhouse, his Halloween outfit on and bucket full of candy in his hand.

"Hey, kid. Give me some of that candy, would you?"

"No way." The boy answered and you saw that coming from a mile away.

Kids cherished their Halloween candy. But why did Hopper want some?

"Alright, how about now?" He asked, pulling out a couple dollar bills from his wallet.

The kid hesitated a little before nodding in agreement and jogging up to the car, taking the money and handing over his bucket of candy. You just watched, assuming Hopper would explain why he needed the candy, but he didn't say a single word before he tapped the car into gear and continued to drive.

"Umm, is there a reason you bribed the kid for his candy?" You asked curiously.

"Forgot it was Halloween, I don't have any at home. Wanted to be prepared in case any kids came trick or treating to my front door."

You glanced over at the clock on the dash which indicated that it was nearly midnight, and you raised your eyebrows, "how many kids do you think will be trick or treating at this time of night?"

Hopper glanced over at the clock and seemed surprised by how late it was but shrugged his shoulders.

"Can never be too prepared."

Guess he had a fair point. But you didn't plan on getting any candy. You planned on going straight to bed and if anyone knocked on your door for trick or treating at this time of night, you were not answering it.

"What's your address?" Hopper asked a few seconds later, turning out onto the main road.

"Thought you said my house was on the way to yours. Don't you know it?"

Hopper didn't say anything for a moment, "I lied. I have no idea where you live."

"Why?"

"Because you haven't told me your address."

"No, I meant why did you lie? I could have driven home myself, you know?"

He sighed, rubbing his face with his free hand, "maybe I wanted to spend more time with you."

Your heart fluttered at his words, and you couldn't stop yourself from smiling.

"Aww, you really did miss me all these years, didn't you? That's sweet." You responded in a teasing tone as you leant over and nudged his arm with your elbow.

"I hate you." He muttered, but the small smile on his face told you how untrue those words really were.

"You love me."

"Love is a real strong word. More like tolerate."

"Ouch." You said, resting your hand over your heart dramatically causing Hopper to stifle a laugh as he shook his head at you.

"But, seriously, where do you live because I have no idea where I'm driving."

"Oh, take the next two lefts and I'm number 32." You answered.

Within a couple of minutes, he was pulling up in front of your house and you climbed out the car, pausing as you held the door open.

"What time will you pick me up in the morning? Just so I'm awake and ready."

"I'll swing by around nine." He answered and you nodded, about to close the door before he continued talking. "Oh, and Y/N? Stay out of the woods, okay?"

You frowned a little but nodded, "wasn't planning on going for a stroll through the woods, but alright."

He nodded and you gave him a friendly wave before closing the door and watching him drive off.

You made your way inside the house kicking off your muddy boots by the door and making a mental note to clean them in the morning. You dumped your duty belt on the back of the couch before noticing there was a little red light flashing on your answering machine.

Who had tried to call you?

You didn't keep in touch with anyone from New York and the only people you knew in Hawkins were the ones you were with today. So, who was it?

Pressing the play button, you made your way to the kitchen to grab a glass of water but froze in the doorway when the voice spoke through the machine.

A sickening wave of terror welled in your stomach. Your body grew tense to the point of shaking as you grabbed hold of the wall listening to the voice you had hoped to never hear again.

"You think moving to Hawkins will save you? It won't. I'll be seeing you again real soon, sugar."

Blood drained from your skin and breath caught in your throat as you slowly slid down against the wall and sat on the carpet. You buried your face into your hands trying to remember how to breathe as you thought back to the last time you heard that voice... the voice who was the reason for your transfer to Hawkins.

-

Next Chapter

A/N: Why did I write this? Well, I wanted to read a Hopper x Reader fanfic that consisted of more than 1 chapter and wasn't just pure smut with no plot… however, upon scrolling through AO3 I discovered that is hard to find. So, I wrote my own.

I know this chapter was a little heavy in dialogue which I'm not happy with but bear with me for the first few chapters because I promise it gets better. 

Thank you for those that are reading this new story. I would love to hear your thoughts in the comments below! The next chapter will be posted within the next few days but until then, stay safe everyone and have a great day xx

MASTERLIST pinned to profile

If anyone wants to be tagged just let me know

Daryl Dixon x Female Reader

Summary: Cold nights and shared sleeping bags.

TW: Fluff, pre-established relationship, cuddling.

The group had been traveling down the same road for days, slipping into the woods at night when they needed to set up camp. Daryl found himself getting antsy as more time passed without a solid form of shelter.

He didn't like being out in the open for long periods of time, especially with Y/N. Daryl worried about her more than himself at times, ensuring that she was always in his line of sight.

Daryl was not clingy by any means, but he couldn't keep himself from worrying.

He knew how dangerous the world had become and he couldn't help but be protective. Y/N was his one good thing in the world and he wouldn't be able to live with himself if something happened to her.

Their relationship had formed slowly over time, definitely not something that anyone would have expected. Y/N had always been kind to everyone, but she seemed to pay particular attention to Daryl.

She told him once that he made her feel safe and he believed her.

Daryl had never been good with words, but he showed his love for her in a variety of different ways.

He taught her how to survive on her own in case they were ever separated, paying particular attention to hunting and shooting. Daryl wanted her to be able to protect herself if there was ever a situation where he couldn't.

Daryl always made sure she was warm enough while also ensuring that she had enough food and water. He would even give her some of his portion when rations were limited.

Daryl was also one for physical touch, whether it be his arm draped around her waist at the campfire, his lips pressing quickly to her forehead before stepping away or his hand holding onto her's as they walked.

Daryl found it reassuring to know that she was there.

...

Y/N rolled out her sleeping bag by the fire before slowly crawling inside. She left the zipper open as she turned onto her side.

Daryl moved behind her, sliding into the sleeping bag with his chest pressed against her back.

"Lift your head," He muttered.

She lifted her head, allowing him to lay his arm across the ground for her to rest her head against.

"Thank you," Y/N said softly, Daryl grunted.

His arm wrapped around her waist securely, holding her close to himself as the fire crackled softly beside them.

Y/N rested her hand on his forearm, sliding her palm downwards and intertwining her fingers loosely with his.

"You're cold," He muttered.

"I'll warm up," Y/N replied, closing her eyes as she enjoyed the comforting warmth already seeping into her body.

Daryl laid awake long after she had fallen asleep, listening for noises in the surrounding area.

It was like he couldn't turn his brain off when there was a possibility of danger with Y/N involved. His attention was pulled back to her as she shifted in his arms.

"I can hear you thinking," She mumbled without opening her eyes, "Glenn is on watch, we're okay," Y/N assured.

"I know," Daryl said gruffly, arm tightening around her waist to pull her body closer.

Y/N turned in the limited space the sleeping bag provided, looking up at him with tired eyes. Daryl lifted his hand, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

"You need to sleep," Y/N said, he nodded.

She pressed herself against his chest, fingers slipping underneath his jacket before she slid her arm around him.

Y/N closed her eyes, letting out a content sigh as her head rested against his chest.

...

Daryl blinked his eyes open, surprised to find that he had actually fallen asleep for a few hours. The fire had dissipated, leaving only a small flame and bright red coals.

Daryl shifted, lifting his arm from around Y/N's waist as he slipped out of the sleeping bag carefully.

Her eyes fluttered open, turning onto her back as she blinked up at him, "Where are you going?" She mumbled.

"Just grabbing a drink. Go back to sleep," He said, lifting the warm material of the sleeping bag further over her shoulder.

Daryl dusted off his knees as he stood up, making his way over to the car and opening one of the backpacks. He pulled out a crumpled water bottle, taking a few sips before tucking it away.

Glenn sat on the hood of the car, a rifle held in his hands as he listened.

"Anythin'?" Daryl asked, Glenn shook his head, "Not a peep. I wake Rick in an hour to switch off," Glenn said.

Daryl nodded, he felt like he wasn't contributing when he had the privilege of sleeping through the night, but Rick had insisted that he take a night to rest.

"You two are really cute together," Glenn stated.

"Thanks," Daryl muttered.

"I think everyone deserves to have a love like that... One that makes life worth living again, you know?" Glenn said.

Glenn couldn't have been more right. Daryl would give his life for that woman in a heartbeat and he couldn't imagine a future without her in it.

Y/N was absolutely everything to him.

Daryl nodded, returning to his sleeping bag and laying down behind Y/N. He wrapped his arms around her, holding her close to his chest.

"Are you okay?" Y/N mumbled, hand finding his under the material of the sleeping bag.

"Yeah, I'm good," Daryl assured.

Mrs. Shelby

(Tommy Shelby x f!Reader)

Gif by @peakyblindersdaily

Summary: Tommy is feeling sentimental and thinks about the first time he met his wife and the things they have been through together.

Word Count: 3103

Warnings: just some injuries, nothing too harsh, but if I missed anything please let me know and I'll add it.

A/N: Hey loves, this is the first fic I have worked on in quite a long time. I just ran out of motivation and felt like everything I wrote wasn't worth anything. I read through it for mistakes but I might have missed something so I apologize. I feel really good about this. Fluffy Tommy is my favorite and loved-up Tommy is needed every once and in while, so I hope you enjoy it and let me know what you think! <3

No one ever believed Thomas Shelby of Watery Lane would ever get married, let alone himself. He thought he would go through life alone with only his horses, money, and sometimes his brothers by his side, and he had come to terms with it, swallowed that fate, and decided to meet it head-on. But as he stood in the doorway and watched his wife rock his newborn daughter to sleep, he now couldn't imagine his life going any other way.

He vividly remembers the first day he met you. It was three years ago, and you looked like a fish out of water standing in the middle of the arena’s horse stables in a pretty light pink dress. Your hair was windswept and mud-covered your shoes.

“Are you lost?” He had asked you.

You jumped at the sudden appearance of another person. You looked up at him, a blush slowly painting your cheeks. “Is it that obvious?”

Tommy had laughed and walked over to you. He could now see the remnants of horse feed on your hands. It’s no wonder the horse was staying close to you, patiently waiting for more. “Only a little.”

Turns out your father had told you to go to some office and ask for paperwork regarding one of your father's new horses and expected you to find it with little to no direction. It was your first time at the arena and you had walked yourself into a circle. After giving up, you decided to just stay with the horses. Months later you told him he was your knight in a well-dressed suit that without him you would still be there living amongst the horses, sleeping on hay bales, and eating sweet feed.

"I'm (Y/N)." You jutted your hand out in the space between you. Your nails were a glossy pink proving you were a woman who kept up with the latest fashion trends. Ada talked endlessly about the girls in London with their red nails and ever-shortening dresses.

"Tommy." He replied, shaking your hand.

“Nice to meet you, Tommy.”

Tommy remembers that your hand was freezing even though it was unnaturally warm that day. He also recalls that when you said his name, it would never sound as sweet coming from anyone else.

He helped you find the office and retrieve the paperwork for your father. The ladies in the office wanted to brush you off telling you it would take at least three hours to get there because of some nonsensical reason they made up on the spot. Their tune changed quickly when they realized who you were with; the paperwork somehow magically appeared under a stack of folders.

"Who exactly are you again?" You asked him when one of the ladies all but shoved the papers into your hand.

Tommy shook his head," No one important." He placed his hand on the small of your back guiding you in the direction of the bar. "Let me buy you a drink."

One drink turned into three and small talk turned into a deep conversation getting to know each other, the paperwork had long been forgotten about and was serving as a placemat for sandwiches and a foundation for a relationship that means more to Tommy than anything in the world.

"Darling, I didn't know you were home."

Tommy's attention snaps from his memories back to you. Even though you greeted him with a bright smile, he could see how tired you are. You're standing with your shoulders curved inwards as if the lack of sleep is weighing you down. He tried to take over tending to the baby as much as he could to allow you the rest you desperately needed and deserved, but there's only so much a father can do compared to a mother.

"I just walked in." He walks over to his wife and gently takes his daughter in his arms, careful not to wake her. She is so small and at just a month old, she already looks just like you with the same color hair and big eyes. He smiles down at her and places a small kiss on her forehead before laying her in her crib in the nursery.

He follows you to your room and immediately pulls you into him and you respond by wrapping your arms around his waist and burying your head in the crook of his neck. He can feel as you start to plant kisses along his neck and up to his jawline. Turning his head, he captures your lips with his letting a quiet moan escape as he deepens the kiss. He cups your heated cheeks with his hands and walks you to the rocking chair by the window where he sits and pulls you into his lap. Every kiss he shares with you always feels as good as the first, and no matter how many times he kisses you, he will never grow tired of it. It's like he is dying of thirst and you're a never-ending spring.

"Tommy, why are we still out here?" You tugged on his hand trying to get him to move his feet towards the door. "The film is about to begin. Let's go."

He huffed a breath of laughter and told you, "Give me a second, woman. I need to finish this cigarette."

You pouted and stood in front of him blinking up at him as though staring at him will make him smoke faster. "I don't want to miss the beginning. Emma said it's the best part."

Tommy dropped his cigarette on the pavement and snuffed it out with his shoe. “Sweetheart, if the beginning of the film is the best part, I don’t think it’s going to be worth watching.”

He laughed as you rolled your eyes and drag him inside the theatre.

The film, Tommy remembers, was as bland as expected. There were a couple of moments when Tommy looked over at you, and it seemed as though you had dozed off. You held his hand throughout the entire movie never once letting go.

“Okay, you were right. That film was horrible.” You blurted out. The film was finally over and the two of you were sitting in his car while the radio quietly played a song he didn’t recognize. It had just finished raining by the looks of the wet pavement and humid air making the car windows foggy.

“I told you.” Tommy leaned over and pinched your cheek.

“Oh hush.” You swatted his hand away but he caught it and kissed the back of it, and you watched him as he kissed each individual knuckle. “The company was worth it. I have to admit that."

“Glad to hear I was up to your standards,” Tommy whispered and continued his ascent up your arm with his mouth. He stopped at your collarbone, looking up to gaze into your eyes, and being met with your eyes shining bright as though they were lit on fire.

You started to lean forward and Tommy met you halfway closing the distance between you. The kiss was soft in the beginning, and you tasted like heaven and mint. His rough hands brushed your cheeks and slowly found themselves buried in your hair while yours were fisted in his jacket. He let out a small moan when you deepened the kiss with your tongue. He had been dreaming about kissing you since he met you in the stable all beautiful and lost.

Never breaking the kiss, you slid closer and somehow ended up in his lap causing you to be pressed against his chest because of the close quarters of the car.

Hands were everywhere teasing and taunting as the seconds ticked by. One second they were in your hair, around his neck, or under his shirt scratching thin lines onto his stomach, and then the next second they were somewhere else entirely.

When you finally parted for air, you rested your forehead against his trying to catch your breath, and after a moment you kissed his nose and muttered, "I dare say the company exceeded expectations."

After that first kiss, Tommy would find any excuse in the world to see you, touch you, kiss you. Anything as long as you two were together. Now He is watching as you try to reach the bottle of whiskey stored on top of Tommy's wardrobe. He tries to hide his laugh when he has to resort to standing on your tip-toes.

"Don't laugh at me!" You quip even though Tommy can see you're smiling. You almost had it in your hand but your index finger hit the bottle and pushed it back an inch. He heard you mutter a curse under your breath. This time he couldn't hide his laughter. "You know you could help me instead of laughing at your poor wife."

"But you're doing so good, Baby."

The look you gave him could whither a thorn bush but it makes him laugh more. When you finally get your hands on it, you pour him a glass and all but shove it in his face. "I should spit in it."

He takes the whiskey, letting his fingers brush yours, "It would make it taste sweeter."

You shake your head and sit on the edge of the bed. Normally, you would have a drink with him, you never being one to turn away whiskey, but since you're nursing, the strongest thing you partake in is tea. "How was the office? Did Arthur come by? Polly is really worried about him and frankly, I am too."

Tommy takes a small sip and shakes his head, "He hasn't and probably won't be for a while. Says he is hearing fucking voices again, and Linda spouting shit about how the Italians are coming back to kill them all."

No matter how many times Tommy tells them Luca Changretta is dead and not coming to seek revenge on the Shelby Family, there will always be that fear it will happen again. He went to the ends of the earth to ensure your safety and he will continue to do so.

You nod your head agreeing but he doesn't miss how you always tense up at the mention of the Italians, the Black Hand, and the havoc they brought to Small Heath. Sometimes he will catch you rubbing your shoulder where there is a scar to remind you and him of that trauma and the vow Tommy made to never let it happen again.

He still has nightmares about that day. There are many mornings where the sun will rise and you have been long awake from holding him and reassuring him that you are alive and safe, not back in that hospital room or trapped in a random house being beaten black and bloody.

"Where is she!"

“Tommy, she’s in here.”

He turned at the sound of his Aunt Polly’s voice. He stormed towards her ready to shove her aside so he could see you. He needed to lay eyes on you, touch you, anything.

“Wait a minute, now.” Polly put her arm out, stopping him before he could even get to the doorway. “I want you to be prepared for what you’re gonna see. They messed her up good, Tommy.”

He could see the sadness and worry in her eyes and when he gripped her arm, giving her a comforting squeeze, tears gathered and threatened to fall but she stepped away before he could see it fall.

The first thing Tommy saw was the sun. The curtains were pulled as far apart as they would go leaving no darkness.

Later he would learn that was one of the first things you asked for when you woke up. All you wanted was your husband and light. The doctor suggested it was because you were kept in a dark room that it triggered a need for bright light and to be able to see everything. Long after the incident you always had to have a light on, even when you were able to finally sleep. Sometimes he would find you in the middle of the night sitting in Charlie’s room, with as much light on so he wouldn't wake, just watching him breathing and sleeping while tears absentmindedly ran down your cheeks.

The second thing he saw was your back facing him. You were laying on your side curled into a fetal position. Your hair was tied up allowing him to see a bruise forming on your neck. Anger began to fill Tommy as took stock in other bruises along your arm that was peeking out of the blanket. You also had a large bandage wrapped around your shoulder. He took a cautious step forward to not wake you if you were asleep which he figured you were because you didn't acknowledge anyone had come into the room. His heart moved up into his throat as he got closer. He was torn between wanting to wrap you in his arms and keep you there forever and going to finish the job he started before coming to the hospital, but he knew he wanted to take his time with the bastard who did this to you, so he walked over and sat in the chair by the bed.

After a few seconds, he heard you whisper his name. Your voice was cracked and dry sounding as if you hadn't drunk water in a week. “Tommy?”

He looked over and saw you were still facing the window. “Yes, Baby, it's me.”

Tommy saw as you tried to roll over and sit up, all the pain and concentration painted on your face. Knowing you weren't likely to ask for help, he shot out of the chair and guided you as gently against the pillows as he could. Your skin was hot but dull like all life had been sucked out. You had a black eye and your lip was cut, making a thin, jagged line across your cheek. Changretta was going to pay for that too. He’ll feel every bruise and scratch tenfold.

When you got settled and comfortable, he smoothed the hair out of your eyes, and careful of the bruises and cuts, he kissed your forehead. You shifted over so he could sit on the edge of the bed and be as close as possible.

His left hand made its way into yours, your wedding bands clinking at the contact, echoing in the too-quiet room. You hadn’t been married for long; your wedding flowers were still drying on the kitchen counter because you refuse to get rid of them because one of the housekeepers told you of a way to preserve them.

Tommy remembers thinking that it’s a strange feeling to know that even though his world was at a standstill in this hospital room with his wife who was shot, cut, and bruised essentially because of him. He could still hear the hustle and bustle of the hallway and the chatter of the nurses and the rest of his family. He is sure your family is on the way from London. Polly said she would call them after talking to him.

After what felt like an eternity of silence but could really have only been a few seconds you whispered, “They had Charlie, Tom.”

“I know.”

Changretta called you while you were at work telling you to meet him outside the Garrison, and if you told anyone, especially him, he would hurt Charlie. He put Charlie on the line proving that he was serious. You dropped everything and left without a second thought.

He saw the flash of fear in your eye when the fact settled over you. “Where is he?” Your voice was coming on in a panic. “Is he here? Please tell me he’s okay.”

Tommy pulled you gently into his arms to try and calm you down. He felt you flinch as his arm grazed your shoulder bandage but you melted into arms and rested your head in the crook of his neck. “Baby, he is just fine, all safe and sound at the house with Ada and Johnny Dogs.”

You nodded and gripped his shirt tighter, and he could feel hot tears soaking through his shirt.

Even though Charlie isn’t biologically yours, you have always treated him like he is. On the side of your bed, you keep a photograph of the three of them taken at your wedding. Charlie had his arms around your neck smiling with cake smeared across his mouth and nose, Tommy was actually smiling for once, and you were laughing because Charlie tried to smear the icing on Tommy’s suit jacket. You always say it’s your favorite photo because it was a time where everyone was truly happy, and it was a day full of love.

From the first time you met his son, you welcomed him with open arms, and Charlie did just the same, now even calling you mom. You try to keep Grace’s memory alive and even though you never met her, you talk to Charlie as if you were best friends telling him that she loves him and always will and her photo is still up in the house so Charlie and he could see her. You said her picture deserves a place in the home because if she means a great deal to him and Charlie, she means a great deal to you.

“What’s going on in that head of yours, Mr. Shelby?” You nudge him with your bare foot trying to get his attention. “You got quiet on me for a second.”

He laughs, leaning down and catching your foot and massaging it. “Well Mrs. Shelby, I happen to be thinking about my beautiful wife and how much I love her.”

“Wow. She’s a lucky lady.” You lay back, letting your head hit the pillows while he drops your leg and makes his way over to you. “Tell me about her.”

Tommy kneels over you, placing his arms beside your head, and kisses your lips after each word. “Well, she's beautiful.” kiss “funny.” kiss “Smart.” kiss “caring and kind.” kiss “wonderful with my children.” kiss “and somehow she puts up with me and loves me.”

He ends with a deep kiss and when you break apart, he rests his head on your forehead.

“She sounds truly wonderful.” You reach up and brush a piece of hair out of his face. “You know, her husband sure is lucky to have a gal like her.”

Tommy laughs and intertwines your hands, kissing your hand. “Indeed he is.”

Her Father's Eyes | Tommy Shelby

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x Reader

Request: No

Fic Type: Imagine

Warnings: former friends. Mentions of drunken one night stand, tough decisions were made.

Word Count: 1,876

TOMMY SHELBY MASTERLIST | TAG LIST SIGN-UP

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

"Mabel, sweetheart, please slow down," Y/N calls after her three-year-old daughter as she runs away from her and towards the spot where they sit by the pond.  

"Picnic! Mummy! Picnic!" The toddler cheers but comes to a halt as she notices someone in their spot. 

Noticing the familiar faces surrounded by a brood of children, she adjusts the basket and blanket in her arms and takes Mabel's hand leading her to another area of the park. "Let's go find another place to sit." 

Arriving under a tree, Y/N lets go of Mabel's and sets the picnic basket on the ground. Unfolding the blanket, she lays it out on the ground and places the blanket on it before walking over to her daughter and lifting her up to place her on the blanket. 

Y/N takes out a handful of the toys she's brought with them. Mabel has a doll and a wooden horse with her that she will not leave the house without. She sits down and arranges the toys in front of Mabel. "Here you go, my love." 

"Thank you, mummy." 

"You're welcome," she smiles lovingly at her daughter, watching her play. 

The little girl bears hardly any resemblance to her. She is convinced that Mabel looks more like her father with dark hair, button nose, pouted lips and vibrant blue eyes. Those same blue eyes were one of the reasons she was hesitant to return to Small Heath. People would know with only one look at Mabel, who she belonged too. 

"Is that really you, Y/N L/N?" 

Looking up from her daughter, Y/N saw Ada standing there, clutching Karl's hand, a stunned expression on her face. She didn't believe the lone girl among the Shelby siblings would see her from where she was. 

"Ada, it's good to see you again," she says as she rises to her feet. She's immediately drawn in for a hug. "What are you doing in Small Heath? Last I heard, you were done with this place." 

"The same goes for you. I'm back for a little visit. I thought Karl would enjoy spending time with his cousins," Ada explains. "How about you? Polly told me you moved to Norwich be closer to your sister." 

"I returned a month ago to care for my mother," she says solemnly. "She became ill with a fever." 

"How is she doing?" Ada inquires. 

"She passed away 10 days ago," she replies, sadly.  

"I'm truly sorry, Y/N. She was a wonderful lady" Ada expresses her condolences. The young woman hadn't seen Y/N's mother in a long time. 

"Look, Mummy!" Mabel's enthusiastic shout cut her conversation with Ada short. She turns to the small girl who's pointing to the duck and ducklings swimming in the pond. Mabel's favourite animal, along with horses, happens to be ducks. She is completely enamoured with them. "Duckies!" 

"They're duckies," she gasps feigning excitement as she kneels back on the blanket next to her. 

"My goodness, who is this lovely little thing?" Ada asks, kneeling down to Mabel's level. When she takes a good look at the girl who looks so much like her father, she tries to hide her surprise. 

"This is Mabel, my daughter," she introduces them. "Mabel, love, this is mummy's old friend Ada and her son Karl." 

"It's lovely to meet you, Mabel," Ada smiles and holds her hand out towards Mabel. Mabel places her much smaller hand in hers and shakes it. "Karl, why don't you play with Mabel while mummy and Y/N have a little chat," Ada instructs her son as she encourages him to sit with Mabel.  

Karl nods and sits beside Mabel as she shows him her doll and wooden horse and instructs him on how to play with them. She has no idea they are related, but she is already ordering him about. She is, after all, her father's daughter. 

"Karl is growing into a handsome young man," Y/N watches the children. She last saw him during Freddie's funeral. If she remembered correctly, Karl was about two years old at the time. A few months later, she became pregnant with Mabel. 

Glancing to Ada when she doesn't say anything, she sees that her old friend's lips are pursed, eyes slightly squinted and is thinking hard about something as she watches Mabel. 

"She is beautiful Y/N," Ada finally says, having finished pondering her thoughts. "Is her father around?" 

"No..." she admits looking down at her hands resting in her lap, thinking of how her daughter was conceived during a drunken night of passion. "No, he's not around." 

"Does he know?" Ada continues to question her. Y/N goes to answer but Ada cuts her off before she can get a word out. "Of course he doesn't, other wise you'd be wearing his ring and using his last name. Does she have his last name?" 

Y/N nods. "Her name is Mabel Evelyn Shelby."  

"Will you tell him?" she asks. 

"When the time is right," she sighs knowing it was inevitable now that she was back in Small Heath. The whispers could already be heard. Whether Tommy heard them or not, she didn't know.  

"Are you living in your mum's house?" Ada asks, looking as though she's thinking up something. 

She looks at her suspiciously. "We are." 

"Well then, I'll drop by tomorrow and give you my address and telephone number that way you can call me and come visit when you're in London," Ada says as she stands to her feet. "I would love for Karl to get to know his cousin." 

"So would I," Y/N agrees, also standing to her feet.  

Ada draws her in for another hug. When she lets go, she turns to the children. "Karl, it's time to go, sweetheart. Say goodbye to Mabel." 

Y/N smiles when Karl mumbles a goodbye to his cousin. Mabel in return gives him a quick hug.  

"That she doesn't get from her father," Ada quips as Karl walks over to her.  

"I don't know. Tommy could be pretty affectionate when we were kids," she giggles thinking of how different Tommy was when they were growing up. 

Later that night, when Mabel had finally drifted off to sleep, Y/N kisses her daughter's head, whispering sweet dreams to her before leaving her bedroom.  

She moves into the kitchen and is about to start on the dishes when there is a knock on the door. She wipes her hands on the dish cloth and makes her way to the front door.  

Swinging the door open, she’s startled to find Tommy standing there, a cigarette hanging from his perfect lips and an unsure look in those eyes he shares with his daughter.  

“Tommy,” she breathes, her voice barely above a whisper but Tommy hears it. 

“I know it’s late, but can I come in,” he asks, his smooth voice sounds uncertain, which isn’t what you heard often when he speaks.  

She nods, moving out of the doorway to let him in. Once he’s inside, she closes the door and turns around to face him. She’s unable to look at him as she anxiously messes with the hem of her blouse.  

“Why didn’t you tell me?” He asks, his voice going from unsure, to frustrated and impatient.  

“Tell you what?” She asks, playing ignorant. 

He frowns, “Do you think I’m daft?” 

“Not at all,” she answers. Tommy had always been a smart one, even when he was being stupid.  

“Then why didn’t you fucking tell me I have a daughter?” 

“Because I knew as soon as you found out you’d have us married and playing house while you were still in love with that traitor.” 

“I didn’t love her, she was a distraction from you,” he admits. 

“That’s lovely, ain’t it?” She says sarcastically. “The boy I grew up loving, fucked a traitorous spy so he could distract himself from me.” 

“Didn’t work though, did it?” He scoffs. 

“Did you come here to argue about our past or ask about Mabel?” She questions him, her own patience wearing thin. 

“Her names Mabel?” He asks. “After your grandmother.” 

She nods remembering the woman she named her daughter after. Her grandma Mabel was the sweetest woman anyone would ever meet. She was always baking something sweet to hand out to the neighbourhood kids, crocheting blankets for expecting mothers and visiting the hospital to read to the sick children. Everybody loved her and she loved everyone. 

“What’s the real reason you didn’t tell me about her?” he asks, less heated then a minute ago. 

“I wanted to keep her safe,” she tells him, truthfully.  

“I can keep her safe.” 

“Can you though?” She questions him. “Don’t get me wrong, Tom, I am proud of how far you’ve taken the Shelby name. But as you’ve climbed the ladder, you’ve made enemies. Some of those enemies won’t hesitate to use her, a sweet and innocent little girl, against you and I couldn’t have that.” 

“I want to see her,” he quietly demands. 

“She’s asleep in bed,” she tells him. “Just don’t wake her.” She leads him to Mabel’s bedroom.  

The door creaks as she pushes it open and walks into the room ahead of him. She watches him as he stares down at the little girl curled up in her bed, clutching her doll to her chest as soft snores emanate from her.  

“She looks like you,” Tommy says softly as he looks down at the little girl with astonishment.  

Y/N let’s out a chuckle, “I think she looks like you. Wait until she opens those pretty blue eyes of hers. She’s all you, Tommy.” 

Watching his little girl sleep, brings a calmness to him and an understanding of why she did it. He would go to any lengths to protect her now knowing that she’s his, just like Y/N had gone to hers. “I understand why you didn’t tell me.” 

“I should have told you,” she starts her apology. “I’m sorry I never told you. Just know it wasn’t an easy decision and it broke my heart to do it but I had to keep her safe. You have every right to be angry with me and to hate me.” 

“Don’t leave again,” he says barely above a whisper, his eyes never moving from his daughter. “Don’t take her away again. Let me be here for her and you. Let me take care of the both of you.” 

“We’re not going anywhere, Tom,” she tells him moving to stand closer to him as she also admires there little girl. “I know you can protect her and keep her safe.” 

“And you,” he adds. “I can keep you safe and protected too.” 

“You don’t need to worry about me,” she tells him. 

“But I do,” he says before adding, “I always have. Even more so now that we’re going to be a family.” 

“So, now you want to marry me?” She quips and leads him back out of the room so they don’t wake Mabel. 

“I should have married you years ago,” he admits as they move into the kitchen, where Y/N makes them a cup of tea. 

All through the night, the two parents talk about Mabel, Y/N filling him on everything he’s missed and Tommy learning everything he can about his daughter.  

TAGGED: @chapter-in-my-old-diary - @hanawrites404 - @goblinjnr - @halsteadbrasil - @forgottenpeakywriter - @star-ggirl - @iceman-kazansky - @alexxavicry - @galactict3a - @crispynutella - @il0vebeingdelulu - @nicole-19s-world - @yeppaweshallsee

Bold means your @ didn't come up when I tried to tag you. Sometimes your blog will be linked after posted but I don't think you get the notification. You'll have to let me know and I'll change it from bold to normal. Tags have been weird lately. Here's a post I found that could help: WHY OTHERS CAN'T TAG YOUR BLOG