Hannigram X Me

It hits you hard, and he has you riding the crest of the sparkling wave that is your complete undoing, his hands clutched tight at your hips as he pounds you from behind. You've never cum from penetration alone before, but there's something about the way Rio does it.

He's better than everyone else. And lord, he knows it.

"You happy down there, mamas?" he asks, slowing within you, his own release still far off from sending him into the realms of a shaking wreck.

It takes a few moments for you to reply, panting for breath, your cunt fluttering around him as the white-hot and tingly pleasure ebbs away again. "I'm... I'm... dying."

His grin broadens in an instant. "Not yet, you ain't." Moving onto his back, he slides beneath you, his elbows pushing against your knees, lowering your body until your slick folds meet the warm suck of his mouth.

"Oh, fuck," you breathe shakily. "I need a minute, Rio. I just came, after all."

He snorts, laying a soft lick upon your clit. “Oh, you came once, huh? Well, that ain’t enough.”

I heard the front door open and I jumped from my vanity, rushing downstairs to greet my husband I haven't seen all day. Reggie left for work early in the morning and has finally returned, well into the night.

I entered the dark den, squinting to see my husband in his chair with a whiskey glass in hand. I had to squint because I had already taken out my eye contacts for the day being that it was so late. The lack of lighting made it twice as difficult to see.

I straddled his waist and pressed my lips to his, rolling my hips over his member. I grabbed his empty hand and put it under my nightgown, letting him feel my wetness. I pulled away and smiled.

"I missed you Reg. Can you feel how bad?" I questioned.

The lights flipped on.

"What the fuck are you doing?" Reggie's voice boomed from the doorway. I furrowed my brows in confusion and turned to see Reggie standing in shock and anger. I turn back to the man I thought was my husband and gasped, meeting Ronnie's eyes. He just stared back at me, seemingly unfazed. I jumped off of his lap and stood in the middle of the room, now looking at Reggie with fear in my eyes.

"Reggie I-I thought he was you! I don't have my contacts or glasses and it was so dark, I didn't know!" I stuttered out, heart thumping from what I just did with my brother in law.

"She's being honest mate, called me Reg while I felt up her slick cunt." Ronnie spoke bluntly, causing my face to heat up. Reggie had that look in his eyes, the twitch he gets when he's about to blow up. I rushed up to him and grabbed his hands in mine, drawing his attention to me.

"Reg, it was an accident I didn't know and it will never happen again." I pleaded with him. He seemed to relax with a deep breath.

"Go on upstairs, Ron and I need to chat." I shuffled back to our bedroom and laid down in bed in waiting.

Downstairs however, Reggie fought back the urge to shoot his brother in the face as he watched him suck is fingers.

"Her cunt is unbelievably sweet." Ron spoke.

"I know." Reggie's jaw clenched.

"I have a proposition to make up for Suzie." Ronnie said, leaning back and lighting a cigar. Reggie rubbed his forehead.

"That was years ago Ron, let it go." Back in high school Ron managed to snag a beautiful bird Reggie had his eyes on. Their looks were much more similar back then, so Reggie borrowed a pair of Ronnie's glasses and had a go at Suzie. Ron was heartbroken when he found out, and even more heartbroken when Suzie chose Reggie when she found out.

"I feel that it's only fair Y/N is the peace offering to this situation." Ron said, crossing his hands over his lap and puffing from his cigar.

"Aren't you a poofter, Ron?" Reggie questioned, frustrated Ron was even suggesting anything impolite with his wife.

"No, my cock is not prejudice to what it enters." He responded with that same blunt energy he always maintained. Ron put his cigar out and stood, continuing to speak.

"Present the idea of me fucking her to her and if she declines I will pretend this never happened." Reggie scoffed at his brother.

"C'mon then, I want her to reject you to your face."

The brothers walked to the bedroom and entered, finding Y/N in bed with a book, her glasses nestled on the bridge of her nose. Reggie sat next to her on the bed, putting her book on the nightstand. She looked between both brothers, Ron standing in the doorway unmoving.

"Darling, Ron wanted me to proposition something to you as a favor I owe him." Reggie said. Her eyebrows furrowed in confusion, how did her accidentally accosting Ron lead to a proposition?

"What would that proposition would that be?" She asked curiously.

"Ron wants to fuck you." Reggie bit out. I choked on my spit, glancing at Ron who was still indifferent.

"No! Of course not!" I huffed.

Ron hid his disappointment

Reg smirked.

"...Well..." Y/N pondered for a moment, rethinking the proposition.

Ron perked up

Reg's eyebrows furrowed.

"I refuse to commit adultery, so the only way that would work is if I took both of you at once." Y/N spoke plainly. Both brothers felt all the blood rush to their members. Y/N stood and removed Reggie's clothes while he sat on the edge of the bed. Afterwards she motioned Ronnie over and did the same until both men were in their boxers.

After pulling Reggie free from his boxers and getting him hard, Y/N removed her panties from under her nightgown and sat herself on his cock. Both of them let out a huff as Y/N began rocking her hips. Reggie reached his hands around and cupped her breasts, being that she was sitting with her back against his chest bouncing up and down.

Y/N pulled Ronnie in front of her and pulled his member from his boxers. He was already hard watching Y/N take Reggie's dick like a professional. She placed his length in his mouth and he groaned, wrapping his large fists in her hair, guiding her to take all of him.

The three of them were moving in harmony, Reggie thrusting into her at the same pace Ron was. Y/N was a moaning mess, saliva dripping from her chin and staining her nightgown. Both brothers picked up the pace as they both began to reach their climaxes, Y/N following suit as they thrusted faster. Having both of them at once was a dream, so when they both released in side of her with loud grunts, she found herself having one of the best orgasms she had every experienced. She removed Ronnie from her mouth after cleaning him up and Reggie assisted her by lifting her off of him.

The brothers tucked themselves away and tried to calm their breathing. Y/N laid herself back on the bed and wiped the corners of her mouth.

"That was...fun." Y/N spoke, breaking the ice.

Ron looked at me and then looked at Reggie before speaking.

"Let me be honest with you Reg, that right there is a woman I will not be letting go. One blowie isn't enough and I will be having her again." Reggie nodded and looked at me.

"I expected as much, she's addicting." I smirked at both of them before speaking.

“Professor, wait!” you breathlessly yell, running through the hallway as you try to catch Dumbledore before he enters his private chambers.

He turns around, his surprised expression quickly being replaced by an understanding one as he notices it’s you. Dumbledore has always kept a close eye on Tom, even more so after finding out that he’s in a relationship with you.

Someone that shares little common interests with him as you’ve always stayed away from all the problems that seem to involve Tom’s close circle of “friends”. 

“How can I help you, Miss L/N?” he asks once you’ve reached him. 

“Professor, I have something I wish to say. It’s about…” you suddenly trail off, feeling a pair of deadly eyes burning holes in your back.

The whole aura in the long corridor has changed and you can feel it, a darker presence lurking around. 

You’ve unwillingly developed this skill as a coping mechanism. Being around him has made you more alert towards everything, especially knowing when he’s arrived.

And he has, you can feel it.

The thought of him catching you talking to Dumbledore, whom he absolutely detests, makes your arms weak and the heavy books that rest on your forearm almost fall, but you grip them harder. 

“Miss L/N, you can speak freely. Do not fear anyone, if that’s your concern.” Dumbledore gently speaks as he lowers his voice, his eyes catching Tom at the opposite side of the long corridor as the young boy quickly charges forwards towards the both of you. 

You hesitate for a moment, Dumbledore's sharp blue eyes freeze your mind and the incessant sound of the footsteps getting closer doesn’t help.

Conflicted is a weak word to represent how you’re feeling, but time is running out and you have to decide now. 

“I-” 

“Y/N!” Tom shouts, the booming voice makes you panic, resulting in the heavy books you’re carrying falling to the ground. You panicky kneal, trying to grab the books back and you feel Tom standing behind you, not bothering to help you.

You hurriedly get the books back and stand back as Tom takes a step forward, partially hiding your frame away from Dumbledore with his body but not before he sends a chilling look your way.

“It’s only a small doubt she had regarding our latest Transfiguration’s class, Professor, but I can assure I’ll clear all her doubts.” Tom starts, quickly regaining his calm appearance as he maintains eye contact with Dumbledore. His voice sounds soothing, like he’s telling the truth. 

“I apologize for disturbing you for such an insignificant matter, Professor. We’ll be leaving now, have a good evening, sir.” he continues, slightly bowing his head to Dumbledore, who doesn’t look entirely convinced by Tom’s explanation but he relents. 

“Good night, Tom. And Miss L/N? Do not hesitate to reach out if further clarifications are needed.” Dumbledore leans to his right, trying to catch a glimpse of your face and you weakly nod, mumbling a small greeting as Tom grabs your hand and pulls you away, leaving Dumbledore there. 

His pace is fast, it’s clear that he wants distance between him and Dumbledore and you have to rush to keep up with him. He doesn’t say a word but the way his jaw is clenched, you understand that you’ll pay the price for doing such a risky act. 

Tom pulls you into an empty classroom and before you can say a word, he roughly pushes you against a wall.

You gulp in fear, tightening the books against your chest as you gulp in fear. Tom’s eyes pierce through you, his hands on each side of your head. 

“You think you can beat me down by going to Dumbledore behind my back? Is that so?” he questions you. Fear boils inside you and you frantically shake your head.

“N-No, Tom. I wasn't-"

“Enough!” he silences you, the back of his hand meeting your cheek. The impact sound resonates throughout the entire room and you press your lips together, trying to keep a pitiful sob in. Tom hates it when you cry. 

His hand sneaks towards your throat, pressing it only enough so it doesn’t leave any marks. He inspires a deep breath, cracking his head to the sides before looking back at you.

“There will be consequences to your actions, love. You’re mine. You should know better, that I don’t let anyone take away my possessions, not even Dumbledore."

"Not one will ever save you from me.”

“Never have to work again. Although if you did I’m sure there is something for you to do.”

“Mr Shelby-“

“Tommy.”

“Tommy,” you took a deep and continued, “I said ‘no’.”

Tommy blinked slowly, as though he was only just hearing you and not quite believing it. You picked the box and admired the ring before shutting it with a snap.

“No?” he said

“That’s correct,” you pushed the box back towards him, “When I want to marry someone I want it to be for love.”

Tommy picked up the box and flicked it open. He admired the diamond and said,

“If not for love, what do you see this as?”

“Well… I… it’s all so sudden,” you said, suddenly unsure of yourself, “I didn’t know you felt that way about me. It’s just so sudden.”

“Right.”

Awkwardness settled over the two of you and you quickly stood up. You needed to get home and you didn’t want to be Tommy’s presence for any longer. Tommy put the box into his coat pocket and that seemed to be the end of it. You could ignore this as a temporary blip in his thinking and get back to your normal life. You might have to start looking for another job but that would come later.

“Just before you leave,” Tommy called just as your hand was on the door, “I need you to take some notes for me.”

“Umm…”

“It won’t take long.”

“Right.”

Once again you were seated in front of him, your notepad on your lap. Tommy shuffled through papers as he talked through his plans for the factories. Uneasiness settled in the pit of your stomach as you realised what he was talking about. There were going to be job losses and lots of them. Still, you kept your face level as you continued to write, it wasn’t you r place to question these decisions. Then, two names made you freeze.

“Miss L/n,” Tommy said, “I thought I asked you to take notes for me.”

“My father and brother,” you said weakly, “They’re-“

“Unfortunately I have no time for people like them in my business.”

“What do you mean?” you cried

“And I would advise not to not raise your voice with me.” Tommy said coldly

“They can easily find other jobs,” you said, more to reassure yourself than anything else, “They’re good workers.”

“Are you so sure?” Tommy’s voice was mocking, “Do you really think that thieves can find work so easily?”

“Thieves? They’re not thieves.”

“Do you think that anyone will believe you?”

You winced at the sound of Tommy’s chair scrapping against the floor. You looked down as he walked around you before locking his office door. You closed your eyes and the sound and jumped when he put his hands on your shoulders. He held you down firmly when you tried to stand up and whispered against your ear,

“Your word against mine.”

“Please.”

“Please what?”

“Don’t do that to them.”

“You know how you can help them, love.”

“Please.”

Tommy let out a soft moan and squeezed your shoulders.

“I love hearing you beg,” he said, “Say it again.”

“Tommy-“

“Beg, y/n.”

You forced yourself to turn around in your seat and look up at him. Tommy raised a hand to brush away the tears as he said,

“Well? I’m waiting.”

“Please Tommy,” you rested you forehead against his stomach, “Don’t do this to them. My family needs this money.”

“Then you know what you need to do.”

He reached into his pocket and pulled out the box. As Tommy slipped the ring onto your ring you admired the way the diamond shone in the light. You had never seen anything so beautiful before. You let out a yelp as Tommy’s arm snaked around your waist and pulled your to your feet. You were roughly pushed against his desk as the box was thrown over his shoulder. Tommy pressed his lips hungrily against your neck as his other hand started undoing the buttons of your blouse.

“Tommy,” you squirmed in his grip, “Stop. Not here.”

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do this,” Tommy muttered against your neck, “Seeing you every fucking day and not being able to fucking touch you. You enjoyed that didn’t you, thinking you were safe from me?”

“Tommy, please.”

“You want this don’t you,” he muttered, “You were just being shy earlier. It’s alright,” he nipped at your neck causing you to gasp and your hands to fly to his shoulders, “You can be yourself around me. I can’t wait to see you round with my children.”

“Wha-“

“You’ll look so beautiful.”

Tommy pressed his lips against yours. You had never been kissed like that before. A burning passion that poured into your veins and you couldn’t help but moan into it. You felt Tommy smirk against your lips as his hand moved from your waist and trailed under your skirt. You broke the kiss as his fingers grazed the top of your thigh and said,

“One thing.”

“Only one?”

“Why me?”

Tommy froze and looked up at you. Your hands were still on his shoulders and he stood up. You were sitting on his desk and he removed his hand from your thigh. He grasped your chin and forced you to look into his eyes.

For a moment, there was silence. Then it was Ms Burgess who spoke up. 

"So we will have to find someone new?", She sighed in annoyance. "This hassle is the last thing we need with the wedding coming up."

Her tone made her swallow hard, turning her eyes to the floor. 

"Grace, leave the girl be.", Mr. Shelby argued. His tone softened, when he returned to her. 

"Congratulations.", He offered. "We wish you and your fiancé all the best."

His soft smile made relief wash over her. 

"Thank you for letting us know so that we have time to plan in finding a replacement, even if we are sad to see you go. You are incredible with Charlie."

That was why they had hired her. 

She wasn't a governess, and no nanny or nurse either. In fact, she was only a trained housemaid, but once Mr. Shelby had found out she had three younger siblings of her own, he had hired her as Charlie's caretaker, deeming her qualifications as a sister more important than those from some college or school. 

Ms Burgess had disagreed at first, but the little boy had taken to her. 

And now with Ms Burgess focussed on nothing but the wedding, Charlie grew ever more attached to her. 

He was a beautiful boy, so soft and gentle. Other children raged with tantrums, but only ever cried when he was frightened, hungry or exhausted. He loved to be held and always tried to hold onto a part of her in return, her hair, her hand, the fabric of her clothes. 

And he was getting strong fast.

Having to leave him would break her heart but before long she'd have a bunch of children of her own. 

Mr Shelby had always been kind to her. Occasionally he would bend the rules or show the occasional kindness, like sending her a car to pick her up from the station after her day off, or keeping back a slice of blackberry pie only because she had once mentioned that she adored it. 

Perhaps it was because she knew their secret. It was obvious, really. The way he held and watched the boy, who on paper was nothing but his fiancée's son, gave it all away. But it wasn't her place to judge so she didn't. 

And she always greeted him with a smile whenever he would join her in the nursery or outside in the gardens, or when she would bring the boy to him before putting him to sleep. 

This would have been the beginning of goodbye, only it wasn't. 

~

When she visited home a few weeks later, she was met with the shocking news that her fiancé had married someone else and moved away with her to London. 

The heartbreak was bad, but the shame was worse. 

"I see.", Mr. Shelby said, when she sat in his home office in front of him, her cheeks wet as she tried very hard to keep her voice composed. 

The sudden ending of her engagement meant she needed employment once more and it made her cheeks burn to ask for it. 

Mr. Shelby sighed deeply, smoke escaping his lips. 

"We have already found someone.", He mumbled, making her heart drop. 

He was a good employer and paid well, but she couldn't blame him, could she now?

"However, the change wouldn't be good for Charlie. You may continue your employment here."

Relief made her sniffle once more. 

"Now, now. No more of that, eh?", He insisted, getting up and walking around the desk. 

From his own suit pocket, he produced his handkerchief and dabbed her cheeks gently. 

"There. I know all too well how betrayal by someone you thought you loved hurts.", He said, his voice even softer than it normally was when speaking to her. 

His hand lingered on the side of her face from where it had tilted her face upward. 

It was so warm, and his eyes, those eyes the other servants claimed to be cold, were filled with nothing but compassion. 

His thumb traced her cheekbone. 

"But let me promise you this: while it is a hard lesson, it is a lesson you will never forget."

A lot of people had said a lot of things in the last few days, and she hadn't believed them. In a way, she didn't really believe that a man like him could have his heart broken too, but here he was, admitting it to her. And somehow she knew it was the truth. 

He only removed his hand when Ms Burgess entered, visibly upset about some order of flowers. 

Their wedding was shortly after Christmas and yet she wanted non-seasonal floral arrangements, which proved to be rather difficult. 

~

"Congratulations, Mr Shelby.", She offered when she saw him in the corridor. 

He turned in the spot, seeing her beam at him with the basket of clean laundry in her arm. 

"What are you doing with that, eh?", He asked. 

"Pitching in."

A lot of things had fallen off the edge in light of all the work that had to be done to make sure today would be absolutely perfect. 

"That's not your job.", He reminded her. 

Without another word, he took it from her hands. 

"I'm glad to help. A lot of the maids are too busy.", She argued. "I'd feel awful if I didn't help at least a little bit."

Once she had placed the sheets in the large wardrobe in the corridor and the towels in the appropriate bathrooms, all absolutely perfect for the guests. 

"I can take that now.", She assured him. "You are probably missed downstairs."

Mr. Shelby scoffed and shook his head. 

"They can drink my champagne on their own."

So he followed her back in the nursery where she took over from Jane, the maid who had actually been supposed to take care of the towels. But she had been on her feet since three a.m. that morning so a little chance to sit and get a bite to eat was more than welcome. 

"Sorry, Mr. Shelby.", She said at once. 

"'s alright.", He assured her as he sat down on the other chair. 

Still, Jane rushed to leave, leaving the three of them. 

"Shall we show your father how well you are doing with your walking, Charlie?", She asked, kneeling down in front of the boy before turning to the father again. 

"He can almost do it on his own."

Giving Charlie one hand of hers to hold, while the other was braced against the wall, he could hold his balance. 

Then step by step, he moved forward towards his toy horse. 

With a soft smile, Mr. Shelby crouched down too, opening his arms. 

"Come here, Charlie!", He encouraged, making the boy change directions. That meant he had to abandon the safety of the wall. 

Her hand went to his other hand, but Mr. Shelby shook his head. 

"Let him try with one hand.", He instructed and so she did. 

Charlie leaned heavily into her arm, but kept taking his steps, until he was in his father's arms. 

"Well done. Now back again.", He instructed, offering Charlie only one hand to hold onto. 

And once more Charlie made his way across the small space between them. 

As she stretched out her hands, she glanced up and saw his eyes, focussed not on his son, but on her. And she smiled before focussing her attention back on that darling little boy. 

~

The bad news came in the middle of chaos, although chaos seemed to be their constant state. Right after the wedding, the new Mrs Shelby was determined to start working on the foundation. While Mr Shelby’s money was the ticket into polite society, this work would keep them there, of that she was sure and so she poured every waking minute into it, and everytime she came to ask if perhaps she wanted to join her on a walk with Charlie or bathe or feed him, she was turned away. Some days, Mr Shelby saw him more than his mother did and that was saying something. 

And so it was him she turned to, with the letter in hand. 

He leaned back against the windowsill as he read through what her mother had written.

“How old is your aunt?”, he wanted to know. 

“Thirty - six.”, she responded, wringing her hands. 

“And now your mother wants you to go and help her?”

She nodded. 

“She can’t possibly do the household chores with a broken hip, and rear four children, Sir.”

“No, she can’t.”, he said with a sigh before sitting down at his desk. 

For a moment, he seemed to consider the implications, then he nodded. 

“And you’d take that on? Four children and a household, all the while playing nurse?”

That wasn’t a difficult question at all. 

“Of course, Sir! I don’t want to leave, but it’s family. That's what family is supposed to do."

Her words brought a hint of a smile to his lips. 

“That is very kind of you.”, he told her, making her cheeks flush. “But the truth is, I don’t want to see you go. I think it would be bad for Charlie.”

All softness had gone from his voice and he met her gaze with the same determination she had seen him use with his brothers 

She opened her mouth to argue, but he waved her off. 

“But since I understand your situation, and the conflict it brings, I would like to make you an offer.”

Those demanding blue eyes met hers again and she shuddered in anticipation. 

“I’ll pay for your aunt to hire some woman from the village to take care of her household and children. And I will increase your pay by 15% as I know you send all your earnings back to your family so that your mother won’t have to work so much. That increase would let her take another day off about another day a week, no? During that time she too can help your aunt.”

“Mr. Shelby-”, she insisted breathlessly, “that’s too much to ask! I couldn’t possibly accept that!”

But he only shook his head. 

“Don’t you worry. You just stay right here and tend to Charlie. The costs of letting you go would be far higher, to all of us.”

She tried to argue once more, but he wouldn’t have it and instead sent her off with a small smile, feeling dizzy from her luck. 

~

It was awful. No, it was worse than awful. It was horrific. 

Mrs Shelby had been so proud, so happy when it came time to leave for the foundation dinner, only to - 

She hadn’t believed it at first, not even when Mary told her. Only when bit by bit, the Shelbys came home. 

It took three days for anyone to spy Mr. Shelby. 

There had been strict instructions from his sister that no one was to talk to him, not even to offer their condolences. He wouldn’t want that. 

There was some comfort though, as Charlie seemed blissfully oblivious to everything, babbling and playing, giggling whenever she sung “This is how the Lady rides” and bounced him on her lap. She had been doing that when she saw him standing in the door and profusely apologised, with a burning face and a tightening chest. 

It had been on the mourning of the fourth day. He was wearing nothing but a working man's shirt and old saddleworn trousers, his eyes red and his cheeks sunken.

The poor man had lost his wife and here she was making his son laugh until he was breathless.

It just wasn’t right. It couldn’t be right. 

But instead of scolding her, of screaming or even striking her for her inappropriate behaviour, he had only ever placed a hand on her arm to sooth her, crouched down beside his son, stroked his hair and asked her to continue. 

It hadn’t been easy, at least not until Charlie was laughing again, but when she brought him up again, he had thrown himself into her chest, his whole body trembling with giggles. 

But Mr. Shelby hadn’t minded. Instead, he had only watched, his hand staying on her arm, his eyes on his son. 

“You’re a Godsend.”, he had called her on that fourth day before leaving, the hand moving to cup her cheek. And then he was gone. 

But he returned on the fifth day, and on the sixth and seventh and on every day thereafter, joining her in the nursery.  

Sometimes, he’d hold his son, sometimes he’d help her dress him or hold him or feed him. Sometimes he preferred to watch. 

But he always returned. 

For weeks it went like this, and she was the only person apart from his son, sister and aunt that he talked to. And the only adult he looked in the eyes while doing it. 

She had seen him shrug off his aunt’s hand on his arm, while his own found her shoulder or back, brushed against her fingers as they exchanged toys or clothes, just as he never really met his sister’s eyes, while they didn’t shy away from hers. 

A godsend, he called her, a blessing, a stroke of luck, once even saying that she was the only thing that still held all this together. 

She had tried to argue, but he had insisted. She cared for Charlie and that was all that mattered now. He hadn’t allowed her room for argument in that, and in his situation, she couldn’t blame him for putting his son above all others. 

“Without you, all this would fall apart.”, he had said and she hadn’t even considered leaving, until it was her only thought- from one night to the other. 

~

It was the noise that woke her, the shouting and slamming of doors. 

Her eyes darted to the door that connected her small bedroom to Charlie's nursery, before she remembered that he was staying with Mr. Shelby's older brother and his wife. 

Wrapping a scarf around her shoulders, she stepped out of her bedroom in search of the cause for this commotion. 

In the chilly darkness of the corridor, she could hear them long before she could see them, arguing in the hall. 

"Listen to me- eh!", Mr. Shelby roared, but stopped talking as soon as he heard her approaching. 

She could see him standing close to the foot of the stairs, wearing crumpled trousers, his bare chest revealing tattoos she had never known him to have, his dark hair ruffled. 

Her eyes followed his outstretched hand to a woman who was standing in the middle of the hall. 

She had never seen her before but it wasn't difficult to place her, after all, a Russian Duchess as a houseguest made the rounds quickly. 

She was wearing Mr. Shelby's coat and little more, her messy dark hair fell down her shoulders, her dark makeup was slightly smudged and her black eyes shone in the darkness. 

"Oi,", he called out, "Back to bed, now!", He ordered and she was about to obey, when the Duchess laughed and stretched her arm out, and in it she held a gun, casually as if it was a pen. 

All air was knocked from her lungs and she froze. 

"You there, pour us a drink!", She insisted. 

Her heart thundered in her chest, as she felt hawkish dark eyes locking in on her. 

When her dark lips turned into a smile, she felt her stomach coil. 

"No, get back to bed!", Mr. Shelby insisted. 

Her eyes darted back and forth between them. She knew his word was final, but he wasn't the one with the gun. 

"I told you to come here!", the Duchess snarled, her voice strained with impatience. 

Her chest tightened as she felt frightened tears come to her eyes. 

Her whole body trembled as she took a few uncertain steps forward, not daring to take her eyes away from the woman. 

She had barely reached the middle of the stairs, when Mr Shelby stopped her, blocking her descent with his body as his hand found her waist, feeling her body tremble. 

"Go to bed.", He told her. "Go."

"She has a gun.", She whimpered, blinking the tears away. 

"You should listen to her, Tommy!", the Duchess giggled. 

While glancing down, she saw her twirl her hair around the gun as if it was nothing. 

"You know in Russia, the lady of the house took care to have pretty maids and ugly nannies.", She chirped, as if this was as casual a setting as a lesson in good manners. 

It made her heart beat so fast she feared it would rip through her chest. Either that or give out forever. 

But it was a desperate, almost painful hope that made her look up through teary eyes at the only other person in the room, the only person that might save her. 

He’d tell her she was wrong, he’d take the gun from her, he’d make her stop. 

Mr. Shelby's jaw tightened, but he kept his distance, his eyes following the gun. 

"The only men who had pretty nannies were the widowers. That way there were no problems."

"Come on!", Mr. Shelby insisted, practically pushing her back up the stairs, while blocking the Duchess from sight, his hand burning in her back and arm. 

But he couldn't stop her from hearing the other woman's venom. 

"I do wonder why you hired your pretty little nanny far before your wife died."

"Go, go. It's alright.", He promised, as they came close to the top. "Go to bed. I won't let her bother you."

She ran the last few steps, and as soon as she was around the corner she pressed herself against the wall, but even that didn't still her trembling hands. 

Move, she told herself. Go. Hide. Do as he said. 

But her body had developed a will of its own, trembling like a leaf and frozen to the spot, as if all its strength was focussed on not crying out in fear or sobbing in desperation. She clasped a hand over her mouth and tried to calm her breathing. 

She could still hear them arguing, the Duchess teasing and Mr. Shelby trying to calm her down. 

"I thought it was me you wanted to dress up as her but it was that little thing up there all along.", She heard and her hand muffled her whimper. 

~

It was as if the Duchess had ripped open a drawer of her memory and had spread their contents all over the floor, forcing her to pick them all up again, look them over and rearrange them. 

Only on second glance, in this light, they all looked different, not explicit but doubtful. 

He had always been a good and kind employer, but what if there was some truth in what the Duchess had said? 

What if there even was a hint? 

It wasn't right- it couldn't be right. 

And she couldn't allow herself to be pulled in. 

So she had kept an eye out, wrote her letters, a few to the announcements in the papers, and another to him to explain her reasoning. 

It was easier to write than saying it to his face.  But of course, she couldn't hope to evade him forever. 

Mr Sheoby came while they were spending some time outside, sitting in the open air on a thick woollen blanket, both her and Charlie bundled up against the lingering yet fading winter cold. 

The first flowers had begun to come out now, and not even this place could escape the wind of change that carried spring each year. 

Beside her, Charlie was busy playing with the little wooden cubes, happily babbling to himself. That made it hard- harder than it should have been. 

She heard the steps before she saw the shadow, easily identifiable to her. She still could not meet his eyes, even if it was rude. 

When she didn't react to his satisfaction, he decided to clear his throat. 

"Might I join?", He asked impatiently. 

"Of course, Mr. Shelby. I'm sure you son would like that."

He sat down far too close to her for her liking, the fabric of his trousers almost brushing against her knee in the process. 

Instead of paying attention to Charlie, he simply stared at her. 

She didn't do him the favour of looking at him. She couldn’t. Her cheeks were burning with shame. 

"I gather you received my letter.”, she whispered, taking a deep breath to brace herself for whatever was to come now. 

"Good.", She said, staring straight ahead, to the trees and the river that lay beyond.

"I've decided to reject it."

He said it without anger, without malice. At best, he sounded annoyed that he had to deal with it in the first place, like she had somehow stretched the limitations of his patience with her request. 

"You can't reject a resignation.", She insisted. 

"Well I fucking do.", He said, sounding more exhausted than angry. 

She took a shaky breath and focussed on the treeline. Her hands had begun to tremble again and so she clutched the fabric of her dress. 

"I understand, you're upset and you have every right to be but you are needed here.”

“I want to leave.”, she insisted. 

Her voice cracked and she glanced away, clutching a hand over her mouth. 

But she refused to cry in front of him. 

"I understand.", He said, surprisingly gentle. "I understand your wish to leave, but I can't let that happen. So I'll let you draw up a number, any number, and I will see it in your account or your family's account by the end of the week. As high as you like. You could set them up for life if you want to.”

She felt like the ground had shifted under her once more and she was falling again. 

"I am not a thing to be bought and paid for.", She hissed. "I am a person and as a person, I have the right to decide and I have decided not to continue my employment here."

With you. 

He stared at her with that unreadable expression of his, those cold, unyielding eyes burning into her soul. 

"Are you finished?", He asked, sounding almost bored once more. "Good."

She felt her heart clench as his words. 

"I won't allow you to abandon Charles and that's the end of it.", he merely stated. 

"It's not yours to allow!", She said a little louder than she had intended, her voice thinning as her resolve slipped more and more. 

Charlie's head peaked up and he looked to her, his own summer sky blue eyes staring at her. 

"I will leave, Sir, and never come back.", She told him. 

His jaw muscles tightened as he stared at her profile, his piercing gaze burning itself into her skin just like the memories of that night that burned themselves into her soul. 

"I have to go now, but when I return, we talk."

"There is nothing to talk about.", She whispered as he got to his feet. 

"We will talk when I return tomorrow.", He said sternly, before walking off. 

~

Only Mr. Shelby didn’t return. 

She had her suitcases packed and went down to the kitchens to retrieve the sandwiches Mrs O’Sullivan had promised her for her journey when she heard the whispers - Mr. Shelby was dead, beaten to death by thugs in the street. 

It had shocked them all to their core, leaving them in paralysed uncertainty, and her in tears not for the man, but the little boy upstairs. Both parents dead within months was a harsh fate to suffer. 

The truth had come later, in the form of Mrs. Thorne who had told her the truth of it. Mr Shelby was very badly hurt and might die. When she found out of her plans to leave, she had begged her to stay given the seriousness of the situation. Once they knew what would become of Mr. Shelby, they could decide what to do about a replacement. 

And so she stayed, for Charlie’s sake. Otherwise he’d be left entirely without any constant person in his life and she couldn’t do that to him. But she should have done. 

~

She had agreed with Mrs Thorne that she would stay until a decision for her replacement could be made and that meant until Mr Shelby was well enough to look through candidates again, which he actually began to do. 

Once she saw that, she made preparations to leave in two weeks time. 

Five days before her departure, he called her into his office. 

"Have you found a new nanny for Charlie?", She asked, after sitting down across from him just like he had bid her. 

Mr. Shelby shook his head. 

"There's not much time left before I leave.", She told him. 

His response came ever calm, ever cool. 

"You won't leave."

Her heart skipped a beat. 

"Mr. Shelby, we've been through this.", She said. 

Too many times.

Slowly, Thomas Shelby turned back from the window and faced her, nodding towards a dark red file on his desk. 

"What is that?", She asked. 

"Take a read.", He said, leaning back and observing. 

She felt her heart thunder as she reached for it, fearing for whatever would be found inside, but to her surprise it was a letter of enrolment to one of the best schools for young girls in the country, a school of higher education with excellent recommendation and frightening prices. 

This letter was confirmation between the school and Mr. Shelby that the payment for the full enrollment of her sisters until their respective ages of graduations had been paid for. 

She stared up at him wide-eyed but before she could form any response he nodded towards the folder. 

“Keep reading.”, she demanded. 

She turned the page and skimmed the words. 

Next, she found another letter, this time to a name painfully familiar to her, a name she had heard all her life and one she had up to this point associated with kindness and generosity, with understanding of their situation. 

It was the name of her landlord, or rather the man that owned the land her family lived on and farmed. 

And unlike the previous letter, this deal had been sent and answered, confirming that the ownership had been transferred from him to Mr. Shelby, with an agreement not to inform the tenants and asking what was to be done about it- if they really had to remove them from the property. 

The authentic signature was like a stab to her stomach and the blood in her ears began to rush. 

As she had read, Mr. Shelby had moved across the desk to lean against it. 

"You see that there are two ways this can go?", He asked, calmly, as her chest began to tighten. 

Her lip began to tremble and she forced her burning eyes shut. 

“As long as you stay here, your sisters will be taken care of. Your mother won’t need to pay a dime in rent while I will make sure they have every comfort and renovation they could possibly want. Or…-”

He needn’t spell it out. 

His hand found her shoulders in an almost reassuring manner, as if he was the source of her comfort and not the sole cause of her troubles. 

He took the file from her shaking hands, placing it back on his desk amongst countless others- another box ticked business deal completed.

"I knew you'd understand."

The way he sounded, filled with not just pride but relief, made her sick to her stomach. 

He continued holding her shoulders between his hands as if to ease her tension, letting her look out at the vast lands of the Arrow House Estate. She had once liked the fact that one could look for miles and see nothing. 

"You belong here.", He told her as if it was meant to assure her. 

"Please, Mr. Shelby.", She whispered, whimpered even as her tears began to fall. 

“It’s not right. It’s just not right. Let me go home. Please.”

He only sighed in response, so she tried once more. She had to. 

“There are a thousand women like me, better suited to the task. Please Sir, think of your wife. She wouldn’t want-”

His grip tightened so suddenly it made her wince as he pulled her up to stand, spinning her around to face him. 

She saw anger flash in his pale blue eyes, and froze as he placed a single fingers on her lips. 

“Don’t.”, he said softly, and yet she wasn’t so foolish as to miss the warning that lay in them. 

“You know this is for the best.”, he assured her, gentle once more as he began to stroke the tears from her cheeks. 

When she shook her head, he held it between his hands until she couldn’t do so anymore. 

"Why me?", She dared to ask, forcing the words out through trembling lips. “I have nothing I could offer you. Please!”

He seemed almost amused by her answer and gave his response in the way one would talk to a child. 

"Because you are untouched by all the dirt, by all the filth. No blood on your hands. You are so pure."

She didn't feel pure now. 

She felt filthy, body and soul. 

Hot tears began to spill once more and instead of being appalled or angry, he pulled her into a tight, almost comforting embrace and let her cry, while gently stroking over the back of her head. 

I should have left long ago, she thought bitterly, her fingernails digging into the palms of your hand. I should have left when you were weak and wounded and dying. I should have left and never looked back. 

But she hadn’t. She had been too weak, too soft. And now it was too late. 

"I know you're upset.", He soothed. "But I think you understand too. You know this is what's best for everyone. After all, I couldn't have you breaking Charlie's heart."

End.

~

Thank you so much for reading! I hope you enjoyed and as always I'd love to hear your thoughts!

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Tommy

Tommy's eyes followed you, as you were running around the bedroom, stuffing your clothes in the suitcase.

He knew you were hurt by his actions.

He knew he should've asked you first.

But he didn't.

"What do you think you're doing, love?" He asked, calmly lighting a cigarette and watching you as you turned around to face him.

Your tear stained face was red, partially from the anger that you felt looking at him.

He wasn't even fazed by your crying. By your screaming,

as he informed you about getting rid of your best friend.

Seeing his composed self, you couldn't hold yourself back. Not this time.

Cigarette falling from his mouth as your fist made contact with his cheek. The hit so hard, that the sound of it echoed around the room.

He raised his eyebrows, licking the blood of his lip, as he looked at you, with his eyes dark. As he took a step closer, fear fleshed out in your eyes, but it was too late.

His dark, blue eyes inches from yours when he grabbed your face, pulling you closer. His other hand landed on your hip, as he whispered.

"He died. Just like every other man that will be too affectionate to you." Words slowly rolling from his tongue as he continued, louder. "Put your clothes back in the wardrobe, otherwise Frances will do it. You're not going anywhere, Y/N. There is no place in the world where you can hide from me. You're mine. My property.

His lips stretched into a wide smile, as some more blood dripped down his chin. Wiping it with his hand, he showed you the stain on his skin.

"Hit me one more time, Y/N. And I will make sure you never leave the house on your own, too pregnant with my children. One after another." He spat out through clenched teeth, holding your face so close.

He kept up the eye contact for a few minutes, eventually his gaze softening as he watched your face closely.

You closed your eyes, feeling his fingers caressing your cheek, softly.

"I love you, Y/N." He said in a dark manner. You knew what it meant.

It was a verdict coming from him. In that moment, you knew that no matter what happened, he would never let you go.

One tear falling from your eye, as he held you tightly against his chest, hugging you and calming you down.