#tommy shelby x you
Text
MASTERLIST PART FOUR
Unchained Melody (Part Five)
Summary: On the path to mending your fragile marriage, you and Tommy can't bear to stay more than a few moments away from each other. In more ways than one. But as joy and laughter returns to the halls of Arrow House during an evening of ball gowns and tuxedos. The Governess, left scorned and bitter, makes the final arrangements for her deadly plan of revenge.
Warnings: Language, smut (Minors DNI), fluff, postpartum depression, violence, one racial slur, angst
Word count: 5340
Authors note: Thank you for everyone's patience as I took some time away from Tumblr. It's been a while since I have written anything, so I'm a little rusty. Anyway, I hope you enjoy this chapter!
"Tea, Mr...Dogs?" Frances asked, unsure of how to address the burly built man striding though the doors of Arrow House as he removed his green tweed cap from his head. His informal manner never ceasing to stop the head housekeeper from entering a dizzying muddle as she clutched to keep things as one would expect in the grand house she managed.
" Touch of whisky Frances. That'll be grand" he replied, stamping his mud-crusted boots onto the freshly polished floors that had recently been cleaned for the event set to take place that evening as he looked down at his pocket watch. Eight in the morning. Never too early to fire up the old lungs with one of Tommy's finest whiskys. He thought to himself as he looped his thumbs under his suspenders, taking in the grand foyer and all its fineries. He could get accustomed to this.
"Johnny boy!" Tommy greeted loudly to his old friend as he walked down the grand staircase. The smile on his face a pleasant change from the solemn frown that had become customary as of late.
"Nice digs you got 'ere Tom. Any spare rooms going, ey?" He replied with a hearty laugh, shaking your husband's hand with a firm pat on his arm.
" Not enough for your brood, and the dozen you've got scattered across the county, Johnny" Tommy replied with a chuckle, his sudden turn in mood a stark difference from the one he had replaced for the past two years. His humor further set on improving with what he hoped was next to come out of his trusted friend's mouth.
" In good spirits ey, Tommy?" Johnny replied as you made your way down the staircase with William hitched on your waist, babbling a nursery rhyme as he enthusiastically bounced up and down in your arms.
" Something like that..." Tommy's voice trailed off as he turned to face you, adoration and pride beaming lovingly through his eyes at the sight of you both together. Reunited, finally.
As in love as the day he laid eyes on you, Tommy watched as you slowly descended down each step. Recounting the night, you stayed curled up beside him watching the fire he had lit in the living room of your grand home settle into charred blackness as you both fell asleep soundly within each other's arms after having come to blows over what desperately needed to be said.
"...will be made better with what you've got to tell me" he quietly replied, not wanting you to overhear, nor have your settled worries be bogged down once again.
" A cousin up in Scotland" Johnny spoke in a hushed voice as he sent William a wave and a wink your way.
" That's it?" Tommy replied with a furrowed brow, hoping for more information on the woman that had caused nothing but turbulence since her employment, and a shame your husband wanted to be rid of.
" There's been talk, Tom. In the women's wash house", Johnny added, placing a cigarette tightly between his lips, puffing the fumes through the corner of his mouth.
" Gossip Johnny. I need something better than what tattling old women have to say" Tommy replied, taking the pack of cigarettes and lighting his own as he watched the morning rays of sun glisten on your glossy smile, completely unaware of the goings-on and the vicious nature of the woman hired to care for your child.
" Kin to every man in Birmingham. Nothing gets past them, Tom. I'd stake my life on those old women's whispers" he spoke quietly, before turning his back to you and revealing what the nattering of the town had to say about the Governess in a hushed voice as you opened the dining room door and a triumphant smile grew on your husband's lips.
" Now that is interesting, Johnny. Very interesting"
With your mind still plagued with worry, you couldn't help but let the guilt of your lapse in parenting weigh down your thoughts as you sat opposite young William at the large dining table and back in your rightful seat as you awaited your husband. As your hands hovered nervously over your lips, you watched intently as your son took each mouthful of toast, your eyes darting back and forth to the fading red blotches that covered his skin.
" William?" You gasped, your eyes widening as your hand flew across the table to him when a small cough left his buttery mouth.
" He's fine darling" Tommy said as he entered the room, just as you was ready to bolt up and scoop him into your arms to the nearest doctor. " Forgets to chew. Don't you son?" Tommy smiled as his heavy hand brushed along your back, coming to settle on your shoulder.
" Yes..." You replied with a shaky voice looking back at your son, unconvinced of his well-being as your face twisted in worry.
" Hey, look at me Y/N" Tommy said, resting his thumb on your chin, gently turning your head to face him. "He's ok, darling. I promise" He said with raised brows, softly brushing the warmth of your cheek with his calloused hand. Wanting you to be rid of any lingering doubt.
" He's ok" you repeated your husband's comforting words as you settled your hand over his, bringing it down to the table where Tommy quickly intertwined his fingers into yours and you stayed there undisturbed, enjoying the closeness the morning of just the three of you alone brought. That was until the headache that came in the form of a scorned, spiteful woman with her own menacing agenda charged through the dining room.
" Get out" Tommy quickly snapped with a huff. Swiftly laying out the rules of the home he should have done long before your return.
Begrudgingly tolerant of the woman who had thrown a spanner into the sensitivity of his business contacts, his patience had all but evaporated with the learnt information Johnny had shared with him that morning. But with Tommy now holding the upper hand, her wager was in dire jeopardy. The Governesses time left at Arrow House had rapidly descended into hours, if not minutes.
" I need Gerry to take me in the car" she said as she stood at the end of the table, her talons clicking impatiently on the mahogany wood.
" No" Tommy flatly stated as he lifted a cigarette to his mouth, mumbling incoherently his own choice words for her to leave under his breath as he lit a match.
" Tom" you quietly said as you rested your hand on his knee, cooling the rapidly burning fury within him, you knew was dangerously close to boiling over.
For even after her blatant disrespect towards you and the relationship you were trying to rebuild with your family. The last thing you wanted was for your young child's impressionable mind to see his father's anger slip out in front of him over a woman you knew full well was purposely trying to infuriate not only your husband, but you yourself, who had taken back your position she felt now belonged to her. Keep calm and carry on. The British way. And in this situation, the only warranted reaction.
" Taking my family into the city this morning. So..." He shrugged as he glared at her. "Walk" Tommy brushed her off, your intimate touch enough to catch him off guard and stop him from giving her the marching orders she was long overdue right then and there. In turn, sparing you from the outburst he knew she'd unleash and the encounters they had, she would undoubtedly reveal just to hinder your mending heart.
" Perfect. I'm heading that way too" her mouth curled into a smile as her eyes narrowed in on your husband.
" That's fine. Right, Tommy? " you said, squeezing your husband's thigh as your eyes darted to William intently watching his father's changing expression in response to her refusal to keep her distance, and the constant reminder of his lack of loyalty, even in your absence her presence brought.
" Right" Tommy replied clearing his throat, more preoccupied by the feeling of your hand resting soothingly on his leg. Wanting to feel closer to you. Patiently waiting for the moment you would approach him.
A family outing into town with a fourth wheel in tow. The quicker she was gone, the better. Tommy would no longer stand around with such niceties. She would be gone by the end of the day. Kicking and screaming, then so be it. But she'd be gone. He'd promised himself.
" Mr Shelby! Mr Shelby!" The young kitchen aid called out, catching up to Tommy as you headed out the door with William toddling beside you.
" What is it Billy?" Tommy replied with a furrowed brow as he placed his peak cap on his head, motioning for you and William to walk ahead to the Bentley waiting outside.
" I...I need to speak with you" he stammered out, unaccustomed to speaking directly to the head of the house he worked in.
Fair and just. Tommy had never given any member of his staff a reason to fear him. But with the worried glances over his shoulder and his fumbling demeanor, the kitchen boy had not only Tommy's full attention but nagging curiosity as to what had him looking so nervous.
" Billy?" Tommy questioned, his hand firmly resting on his shoulder as he patiently waited for him to speak when the young man's eyes shot across the foyer to the Governess striding through. Her piercing glare enough for him to recoil and quickly apologise for having stopped your husband.
"N..nothing. Sorry to have bothered you sir" he said timidly stepping away as Tommy's head snapped back to the sound of the Governesses heels loudly echoing past him.
" Me, my wife or Frances. No matter the issue Billy, you come to one of us" Tommy said as he watched young Billy's eyes follow the Governess outside. " Understood? Billy?" He added, as the kitchen aid nodded before quickly returning back to the long days' work that awaited him in preparation for the gala of investors Tommy had planned for that evening.
There was no doubt in Tommy's mind that what young Billy had to say was halted by the presence of the Governess. Although determined to get to the bottom of what had occurred. For now his attention lay with you, his family. And the much-needed time he was desperate to spend with you. Just the three of you. At last.
After a short car ride into the city, with the Governess glaring at you with every second that passed, her eyes green with envy as she watched Tommy's thumb brush soothingly over your hand. You were relieved to finally pull up onto Watery Lane, and escape the tension her formidable stare had created.
"I don't think so" Tommy said with a smirk, his hand grasped firmly on the handle of the door to the betting shop, blocking the Governesses unwelcome attempts to follow you and William into the soot-covered terrace house and into the welcome arms of the Shelby family awaiting you. " Times up, love. Pack your bags and be gone by tonight" he said with a look of disgust, dismissing any further conversation with the woman he began to loathe.
" You're forgetting Tommy, that..." She began to seethe, thinking she still had the ultimate ace in her pack of cleverly played cards, before your husband swiftly stopped her in her tracks.
"That what, eh?" Tommy laughed, belittling any superiority she felt she still held over the situation. " You're not as clever as you think you are, sweetheart" Tommy said lighting a cigarette, blowing the fumes in her scorned face as annoyance settled on her perfectly primed brows.
" Been working your way around the whole country, haven't you? Thought you struck gold when you came knocking at my door. Guess you didn't expect my wife to come back though, eh?" Tommy said grabbing her chin, only a mere portion of the information he had learnt from Johnny briefly slipping through his gritted teeth as the Governesses face dropped at her scheming ways being unveiled.
" You'll regret this, Tommy Shelby. You and your precious wife" she spat back as Tommy's grip tightened.
" Get the fuck out of my house. And if you don't, I'll throw you out myself" Tommy snapped as his fingers dug against the bone of her jaw. "Believe me darling, nothing is beneath me. Even when dealing with the fairer sex" he warned her as he pushed her chin away from him out into the cobbled streets in front of his childhood home. Her blatant threats aimed at you enough for Tommy's questionable moral compass to slip even further. If he was going to kill a woman, it would be her. " Stay away from my wife and child" he warned her as he slammed the betting shop door in her face, leaving her fuming with a boiling rage the residents of Watery Lane precariously stayed clear of as they made their way back to their homes.
" What?!" She snapped as two young children hurried past her. Their eyes quickly averting to anything but the reddened-faced woman now marching down the muddied streets in the direction of where her new intentions now lied.
" Still 'ere then?" Esme asked, arms crossed, nose scrunched as she leaned against the shelf the Governess was scanning in the small convenience shop on the corner of the main street of Small Heath. " My John says Tommy's given you your marching orders" Esme said cracking a smile, her and everyone else in the Shelby family having never warmed to the woman that was intent on replacing you in every way.
" With child again, Esme?" the Governess scoffed as she looked down her nose past her hazel features to the swell of her stomach. " Don't your lot ever stop? What's this one? Third, fourth? I can't keep up " she laughed as she returned to the shelf, and it's curious contents.
" My lot. What's that supposed to mean, Gover-ness?" Esme was quick to respond, pushing her way between the shelf and the woman who was hellbent on insulting anyone who bore the name Shelby. Her disdain for the head of the family firmly at the forefront of her thoughts every waking hour of the day.
" There's that famous anger. Gypsies. You're all the same" she insulted, pushing past the blossoming bump and picking up a glass bottle neatly labeled "Rodent Poison", its killing substance, cyanide. Her swift concealment of her intended purchase going unnoticed by Esme, whose face had twisted in offense at the Governesses insulting, cruel words.
" So prim, so proper" your sister-in-law scoffed, as she looked at the neatly dressed woman from head to toe. "But I've heard talk. I know exactly what you are, how low you'll stoop. Governess to the upper class. Now running from a string of angry wives you wanted to replace and the affairs you had with their men" Esme smirked as she watched the Governesses quick wit falter, and her expression change to one of anger at her intentions further being exposed. " Your lot. Homewreckers. Filth" Esme spat with contempt as the Governess stood back, tightly holding the bottle against her body.
" Just this, Mr Higgs" the tall women said as she turned away from the braided beauty, placing the deadly bottle of household poison on the counter and paying. " Goodbye Esme" she smirked, before opening the rickety wooden door, the chime of the bell hovering above it announcing her departure and another step closer she was to playing her next lethal hand.
As the household staff hurried from room to room later that day, finishing off the last of their duties before the guests arrived. You kept yourself busy with worry with what the many invitees would have to say about your sudden reappearance at Arrow house as you prepared yourself for the dreaded evening.
" I can't do this...fuck. I can't do this" you mumbled under your breath as you shook your dressing gown off in front of the large standing mirror in your bedroom.
Stood there behind the dressing screen, your hand traced down your stomach over the faded scars that had turned opaque in the many months that had rolled by. A reminder of the home you kept your son safe, warm within the swell of your stomach. But imperfect, scarred.
Why won't they leave? You sobbed rubbing your flesh red, yearning for the body you had once, the one that captivated your husband's adoration. The one he wouldn't go a day without kissing every inch of. Was he no longer in love with you that way? Was that why he hadn't gotten closer to you? Kissed you? Your mind nattered to you as you turned to pull the sequin gown from its hanger, throwing it on the chair beside you when the door opened and your husband quietly walked in.
"Tommy, is that you?" You called out as you slipped your feet into your laced lingerie.
"Guests are arriving Y/N" he replied as he slowly walked towards the large wooden cabinet, pulling out a set of gold cufflinks. His initials intricately engraved into each one.
" Shit, I'm sorry. Can you help me, with the zip?" You asked, before quickly scrambling for the dress you had launched to the side in your flustered state. " No! Wait! Just...just hold on a second" you all but shouted, quickly pulling the dress over your knees before your husband saw your exposed body.
Coming to a sudden stop, Tommy waited behind the floral painted screen of Gardenias and Ferns, unable to stop his wandering eyes and loose footing from being captured by the soft amber lighting bouncing off the curve of your hip partially covered by the screen. Watching it slowly sway from side to side as you pulled the dress over your body.
Never had he felt so much desire, so much longing to hold you as he silently watched you glide the glittering gown up the edges of your body. The little he could see taking his already labored breath away from him within seconds.
"Y/N, darling?" Tommy said clearing his throat as he stepped back, recomposing himself and the collar of his shirt tightening around the pulsing vein in his neck.
"Ok, you can come" you said as Tommy cocked a brow, a small smile of amusement flashing across his face at your choice of words. Unbeknownst to you how true your statement was close to becoming a reality for him.
" I can't reach, can you just..." You said, gesturing behind your back as your smartly suited husband stood behind you, brushing his thumb down the middle of your back until the small zipper resting over the white lace of your underwear.
" You ok?" Tommy asked, swallowing heavy. Unsure if he was asking himself the very same question as he slowly pulled your dress together.
" Nervous" you smiled timidly to him in the mirror as you smoothed down the front of your gown, your face quickly twisting in uncertainty at your choice of dress.
" I won't leave your side" Tommy said turning you around as your hands came up to straighten his limp tie. " Not once " he said tucking the loose whispers of hair behind your jeweled ordained ears, his body slowly closing the small gap between you both.
" Promise?" You replied lifting your gaze to his hooded eyes staring down at you as you inched closer.
"Promise" he answered bending his head down to capture your ruby lips when a knock on a door and the announcement that all the guests had arrived stole the long awaited moment between you both.
And promise he did. Never once during the entirety of the night did Tommy leave your side as he worked the room and the many guests he had to greet, stealing small glances at you every brief moment he could to gaze at your radiating beauty. Whether it be talking to politicians or men of nobility, Tommy's hand protectively hovered next to yours throughout the evening, discreetly brushing over your fingers as he counted the hours to be finally alone with you again. He couldn't have hoped for a smoother night.
But calm is far from what was taking place behind the scenes of the glitzy evening of flowing ball gowns and filled champagne glasses that adorned the lower level of Arrow House. Far from calm.
With a smile painted on her face and a hop in her step. Your trusted housekeeper for the first time in a long time finally felt the early years of your residence in Arrow House joyfully seeping their way back into the heart of the home through the laughter and music that could be heard downstairs as she made her way up to William's nursery. Hoping he was sleeping as soundly as she had left him. But when she reached the door of your son's room, a reminder of the dark presence that still resided over the stately home could be heard whispering vicious words to the innocent ears of its youngest resident.
" I'll be your new mother soon. Your old mummy's not well, William. She left you, remember?" Don't worry she'll be gone soon" the Governesses voice hushed as she loomed over William's cot as he tossed and turned restlessly in his sleep. "Just you, me and your father, it won't be long now" she added as Frances watched on in horror through the crack of the door, her unfathomable words spilling from her thinly lined lips.
" Get out! Leave!" Frances' voice rose as she hurried to check on young William's well-being. " Mr Shelby ordered you to leave. If you had any sense, you'd go before he learns of the disgusting things I just heard you say"
" Oh Frances. The busy worker bee. Always listening, watching..." she giggled with a quick glare as she sauntered to the open door. " It will all end in heartbreak" she said as she turned around to face your trusted housekeeper and her hand firmly grasped onto the frame of the door, blocking any future attempts to reach your child and seethe her vapid words once again.
" When will you understand... Agness?" she questioned, speaking her name for the first time. Unwilling to use the title of Governess she no longer deserved. " You were but a minor distraction for him as he grieved and cried for the love he still held for his wife. He doesn't want you. Now leave" Frances said as the Governesses smirk dropped and her wicked hatred for anyone daring to get in her way spilled over into fury.
All it took was a blinding second, a swift merciless moment for the Governess to grab hold of the door and slam it shut on Frances' hand, crushing her wrist between the door and its frame.
Muffling her screams with all her might to not wake and frighten the young child in her care. Frances desperately tried to free her hand and the excruciating pain soaring through the snapping of her bones.
" Busy bodies always get their comeuppance, dear Frances " she said letting go of the door before her wrist gave way and broke.
Clutching onto her throbbing hand as she quietly wept. Frances slid down in a heap to the floor as she watched the Governess quietly walk away through her teary vision into the darkened corridor to a Charleston playing loudly downstairs.
"Frances! Frances!" The young kitchen aid caught up to her as she walked through the foyer, quickly grabbing a linen napkin and wrapping it around her limp wrist. " You're hurt" young Billy said, taking her hand as Frances stopped a young maid walking by.
" Go sit with William Ethel. All night. Don't leave his side" Frances ordered as the maid hurried with haste up the winding staircase to the nursery.
" What's going on? Is he Ill? I'll... I'll get Mr Shelby, Mrs Shelby" Billy stuttered as he looked at the terror weighing down your housekeeper's frightened face.
" No Billy. Let them be" she reluctantly replied as she turned to see the both of you dancing the last song of the night together, smiling lovingly at each other as small giggles joyously left your lips at Tommy's quick-footed steps. The happiness beaming off your faces tearing her away from interrupting your rekindling marriage. She would tell you in the morning. She promised herself.
" Frances, there's something I think you should know" Billy said, following her into the bustling kitchen as the staff washed their way through the many plates of canapes that had been eaten and glasses of champagne that had been drunk.
" What is it, Billy?"
As the evening slowly died down, and enough time had been spent in the company of people your husband had little, if any regard for other than their checkbooks. He quietly whisked you off to the small living room of your home to a lit fire and two crystal glasses of champagne waiting for you. Hiding you both away from any further small talk or pressing matters with the turn of a key. Alone, at last.
" Wasn't your finest moment, so I've been told" you laughed after recounting the story his brothers had told you about your poor husband's ghostly face and unsteady feet after hearing you scream bloody murder from down in the foyer he'd been pacing for near ten hours whilst you were in the throes of labor with William.
" Sweetheart.." He stopped, leaning forward to you with a smirk on his face. " You sounded like you were giving birth to the antichrist himself" he laughed, earning him a quick smack across the chest. " I've seen it at the pictures, so I know how that shit ends" he said tipping his glass to you with a cocky smile. The top three buttons of his shirt undone, waistcoat and cufflinks gone. For the first time in two years, Tommy looked relaxed. Happy.
" Yes well, good thing I gave you an angel of a son" you corrected him, taking a sip of your third glass of champagne.
" That you did" Tommy smiled to you. With his eyes glossed over with love, he reached his hand across the feathered cushion to softly rub his thumb across your knuckles. " How did I get so lucky, eh?" He sighed heavily, his eyes scanning across your face, engraving the very moment into his memory. Scared, his happiness would be snatched away from him once again.
" Tom..." You blushed, gazing up at him through your full lashes as a small nagging moment of guilt escaped the corners of your mind for having left him and your son.
" C'mere" he said, quickly simmering your worries as he ushered you closer to him with a tilt of his head, placing his empty glass on the table beside him.
With his breath hot against your lips, Tommy cupped your cheeks, closing the mere millimeters between you both and capturing your mouth in a tender longing kiss.
" Tommy..." You mumbled, quickly feeling the passion rise within you as the embrace intensified with the welcome feeling of your husband's tongue gently stroking against your own.
With a surge of confidence and a need to urgently feel your husband's body intertwined with yours, you pulled yourself up onto his lap as Tommy watched your hurried movements. Refraining himself and his own desperation to flip you onto your back, and bury himself in you.
Why was he just watching you? You thought to yourself as you undid each remaining button of his shirt one by one, a sudden wave of insecurity heating your cheeks as Tommy's hands stayed motionless by his side as his intent stare held still.
Were you rushing things, did you misunderstand his intentions ? Then why did he kiss you like that? Your brain ticked over with questions as he watched you timidly slide the straps of your dress down past your full breasts, sending a wave of desire through him as he scrambled to keep his composure, and let you take control of the pace.
Had he been too restrained? Shit. Did you think he didn't want this? He questioned himself as he watched your eyes fill with uncertainty as your hands hovered over the buckle of his belt.
" Don't stop..." Tommy breathed heavily as you apprehensively slid your hand down his trousers only to recoil with doubt that this was even what he wanted. " Darling please, don't stop..." He said swallowing harshly, his heart rapidly pounding in his chest at the long awaited feel of your touch as he torturously kept himself from taking things quicker. " Fuck" your husband moaned as you wrapped your hand around his stiffened cock, slowly pumping it up and down within your palm.
With your dress bunched up around your stomach, you lined his throbbing length up. Briefly lingering it beneath you, when your husband could no longer withstand the wait and his hands flew up to your waist sinking you down on to him with a gasp as he threw his head back in relief.
" Tommy" You moaned his name as he bucked further into you, his grip securely fastened on your waist.
"Sweetheart, look at me..." Your husband panted holding onto your hips as you rocked back of forth, eyes tightly shut, mouth agape in the highs of pleasure. " Y/N, look at me" he pleaded as he watched you finally open eyes, pulling you forward into a searing embrace before flipping you onto your back and ridding himself of the rest of his clothes
" Tom" you breathlessly whined as he thrusted into you, his hands tracing down the warmth of your body as he pulled at the fabric of dress in his way you was reluctant to be rid of.
" Stop hiding from me Y/N " Tommy said, as you pulled your gown back up, covering the scars your self-conscious thoughts resented as Tommy pulled out and knelt between your legs. " It's ok" he nodded reassuringly, gently moving your stubborn hands away and pulling the remainder of your clothes from your body.
"You kept our son safe" Tommy said, brushing his thumb over the small faded streaks as he watched your eyes well with tears. Hearing your worried thoughts without a single word leaving your lips.
" Hey, shhh" he hushed your fears away as he settled his heavy body down between your legs, his lips pecking their way over the slope of your breasts until capturing your mouth in his. " My wife. My beautiful wife" he said reaching his hand down to his pulsing cock, sighing at the feeling of your warmth enveloping him once again as he urgently entered you. " I love you Y/N" Tommy moaned between each labored breath as he rocked his hips into you, instantly ridding you of any doubt of his remaining feelings for you with three simple words. The sweetest of words you realised you had been waiting to hear to finally feel at peace with your past actions.
" I love you too, Tommy" you breathlessly moaned as you held onto your husband's strong frame as he pulled your legs around his back, wrapping them tightly against him to feel as close, as deep as he could possibly be. At one with you. Making love to you.
As morning came and the sun glistened through the netted curtains. Beams of light cascaded over the woven blanket draped over your tired bodies as you laid soundly asleep on the plush setee you had spent the night passionately making up for the many sleepless hours of darkness you had both endured. But darkness remained, looming feet from you. Creeping in unseen, unheard.
" Soon" The Governess whispered through gritted teeth as her fingers clasped tightly around the blade in her hand, her lust for vengeance close to sabotaging her deadly plan enough for her to find her way into the small haven you had made as she watched you from the door wrapped in a lovers embrace. " Soon..."
PART SIX (The Final) coming soon!
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Hi was wondering if I could please ask for a smut Tommy request.
Where your the new barmaid of the garrison and during your shift the feelings for needing and wanting tommy grow and he has to make you his .
If that’s something you can write, understand if your super busy can easily wait
You're My Girl
Tommy x barmaid reader
Warnings: 🔞 smut
"Tommy, what are you doing down here?" you asked in surprise as you deposited the heavy crate in your arms.
"Thought you could use some help," he replied, shucking off his jacket and rolling up his shirt sleeves.
"You don't have to do that," you waved him off in gentle protest. "I'm nearly finished."
He lingered for a bit, watching you sweep the hair from your forehead and you smirked as you caught him out of the corner of your eye. "Was there something else?"
"I've been thinking about you all day. Had to come see ya," he admitted, a slight slur to his words from the celebratory drinks he'd consumed.
"I've been upstairs all night," you reminded him with a light-hearted giggle. "You should know, you've been watching that bar like a hawk. If I didn't know better, I'd say you were jealous," you teased with a wag of your finger.
Tommy held your gaze as he closed the distance between you, his smoldering stare silencing you momentarily. You bit your lip as his large palm cupped your cheek, voice rumbling through the dark cellar. "M not jealous," came his soft, yet firm denial.
With a wanton sigh, you leaned your forehead against his, eyes slipping closed now that you could savor a moment alone. The memory of him stood protectively behind you earlier, hot breath fanning your neck and body slotted against yours as he helped you pour pints would have suggested otherwise.
"Everyone knows you're my girl," he declared, grazing a thumb over your cheek.
"Is that so?" you ventured, neither of you having put words to the flirtation that had been building for weeks. In truth you were going mad at the thought of fucking your handsome boss and wondered what might happen if you told him so. Gazing up at him through your lashes, you whispered enticingly, "Say you want me and I'm yours."
"Oh, I do," he promised. "All of you," he hummed, eyes roving your body hungrily.
"Then take me," you whispered against his lips, leaving a tender kiss against his chapped skin.
Your stomach fluttered with anticipation as he studied you, his bright blue irises giving way to the inky blackness of rapidly dilating pupils. "In a crowded pub? Naughty girl," he chided.
Before you could put on a convincing pout, Tommy caught you off guard, leaving you breathless as his fingers ghosted over your throat. "You'll have to be quiet for me," he warned in a dangerously low voice.
"And hide the fact that I'm all yours?" you mischievously challenged with a sultry arch of your brow.
"Unless you want to be interrupted as I do this," he commented nonchalantly, his free hand raising your skirt to your waist and revealing your bottom half to the cool night air. The moment he caught sight of your nakedness, an animalistic groan tore from his throat. "Fuck you look good like this," he rumbled.
Your head tipped back against the shelves, glass clinking quietly as Tommy guided your leg to rest upon his hip. With a warm exhale of breath and the swirl of his tongue along your collarbone, your heart began pounding in desire.
Taking that as his cue to continue, Tommy's thick fingers swept along your dewy folds, collecting your glistening wetness as he felt his own arousal growing by the second. His fingers stretching you open to pleasant fullness, your breathing became shallow and you confessed your growing need. "Please...," you begged in an incoherent mumble as he increased the pressure on your g-spot.
"Please, what?" he asked as though he had no idea the effect he had.
"Fuck me now," you panted as his thumb began circling your swollen bud. He grinned back at you as you arched for him, sending another wave of glasses teetering precariously. You barely noticed as your hand grappled for a hold against the ledge, knocking a bottle of whisky to the floor just as Tommy captured your mouth in a ravenous kiss.
Suddenly the door to the cellar opened and a stream of light shot past your feet, threatening to reveal your compromising position. "Y/n? What's taking so long?" Arthur's voice boomed into the quiet space.
You froze, unable to think of a lie as his footsteps began to thud down the stairs, your heart rate increasing to its rhythm. Suddenly he stopped, eyes following the trail of amber liquid seeping from behind the tall shelves. "What the fuck you doing, eh?"
Then as his eyes began to adjust in the dim light, he caught sight of a familiar jacket. "Is that you, Tom?" he ventured suspiciously.
Your head shot up, eyes darting frantically to Tommy as he hushed you softly. A devilish grin spread across his face as he withdrew his fingers from your pussy and slid them into your mouth, pressing against your tongue gently to silence you. "Y/n needed a bit of help. We're just finishing up," he called over his shoulder.
As the taste of your arousal coated your tongue and Tommy's stubbled cheek pressed kisses into your jawbone, you nearly forgot Arthur's presence. You were momentarily calmed, sucking softly at his digits, but the sound of Arthur's boots scuffing against the floor caused you to gurgle in frightened reply.
Mustache twitching with amusement, Arthur bit his cheek to keep from laughing. Bouncing on the balls of his feet, he attempted a peek at what he was certain was your bare thigh before Tommy's husky voice ordered, "Go back and enjoy the party, brother."
Arthur huffed out a laugh as he smoothed his hair back. "Yeah, alright, but watch the fucking whisky will ya?"
Free to continue your debauchery, the corners of your mouth curled into a wide smile. Tommy's fingers dropped from your lips with a trickle of saliva running down your chin in eager anticipation.
"We'll have to make this quick," Tommy whispered with a wink.
You gave a fierce nod as your fingers flew to his belt buckle, heat growing in your cheeks as your hand found his cock and began stroking him to hardness. He was even bigger than you imagined and a shot of electricity ran down your spine at the thought of having him inside you.
He didn't waste any time allowing you to daydream, however, the reality of the blissful moment you'd anticipated barreling toward you as he turned you to face the wall. His large hand pinned your wrists above your head as he pushed into you with a satisfied grunt, stilling when he'd bottomed out.
Despite your expectation for a quick fuck, he was surprisingly gentle with his first few thrusts, allowing you time to adjust to his size. Your head rolled to the side as he planted kisses between your shoulder blades, sending chills throughout your entire body.
As you shuddered beneath him, he relinquished your hands to roam your body to deliver even more pleasure, deft fingers sliding beneath the bodice of your dress to roll and pinch your sensitive nipples to stiff peaks.
Tommy strained to hear each shaky exhale and whimper from you, feeling the notes of your angelic voice course through his veins until they made his cock throb with need inside your fluttering walls. He enjoyed holding you there as long as he could have you, never wanting to let go.
However, you quickly grew impatient and began to push your ass back against him for more. "Harder," you urged feverishly.
He couldn't deny he was ready to snap himself, for his torture upon you was also his own. Soon his rough hands grasped your hips in a bruising hold. Nails leaving half crescent shaped marks in your delicate flesh, he began pistoning into you with reckless abandon.
Your hands grappled against the cold, concrete wall, bracing yourself as you lost yourself in a haze with each well placed thrust. The spark ignited in your belly only grew as Tommy guided your hand between your legs, murmuring words of encouragement. "Let go for me. Cum on my cock, sweetheart."
Under his spell, you felt your body begin to tense and shake. All promises of silence forgotten, you keened immodestly. "Tommy, Tommy!"
The shameless way you moaned his name sent Tommy over the edge as well, seating himself deep within you to spill his seed. You rode the powerful crest together, a light sheen of sweat coating your bodies in the afterglow.
When his movements stuttered to a halt behind you, Tommy pulled you against his chest in a snug embrace. The muscles of his forearms flexed to hold you up as he relished the last moments within your velvety warmth.
You turned to face him, hair falling over your eyes in disheveled glory. "That was incredible," he pronounced, leaning in for a languid, open mouth kiss.
"So you heard?" you quipped, brushing your nose against his playfully.
"I think all of Small Heath heard ya, love. Not one for rules, are ya?," he chuckled as he broke away from you to retrieve his clothes.
Smoothing your dress back into place, you grew tense at his words. "Does that mean we have to stop?" you ventured anxiously.
Tommy's fingers hovered over the buttons of his trousers, shaking his head softly. "I could listen to that every night," he confided.
"Well, you know where to find me," you concluded, turning away as a blush crept over your cheeks.
"I do," he said, pulling you toward him. "By my side. You're my girl now... announced it yourself," he pointed out with a proud, yet smug look.
You couldn't argue as you'd done exactly that and you held no regrets.
-----------------
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#Tommy Shelby fanfic#Tommy Shelby imagine#Tommy Shelby smut#Tommy Shelby x reader#Tommy Shelby x you#Tommy Shelby x y/n#Tommy Shelby
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arranged [thomas shelby x reader smut]
[ i’ve never written about one of cillian murphy’s characters but oppenheimer has me feeling a bit inspired lately. i haven’t watched peaky blinders in ages, so apologizes if it’s not completely accurate to the storyline. ]
[update: arranged part 2 ]
word count - 2.1k
[ summary - the reader and tommy agree to an arranged marriage that suits both of their needs. despite their disliking of each other, the two seem quite fond of each other in the bedroom, especially on their wedding night. ]
[ warnings - enemies to lovers trope that includes unprotected sex, oral, roughness, etc ]
-
thomas shelby was the last man i ever imagined myself being wedded to, but when my father unexpectedly passed and i no longer had the protection of his people, i had to find another way to make sure i wouldn’t be a victim to any gangs of birmingham - including the peaky blinders.
of course, tommy would never have married me if there wasn’t something i could offer him in return - that happened to be a ton of inherited money from my father, and several breweries i now technically owned, and numerous meeting spots that only i knew about, that the coppers would never find him or his family at, during anytime of the day.
despite the convenience of our arrangement, there was nothing favorable for either of us past the business side of things. our families had been at each other’s throats for years and now that my father was gone, a lot of that tension was, but nevertheless, you can’t expect a peaky blinder to not hold a grudge, even on their wedding night.
“see, that wasn’t so bad.” i mutter to my newly wed husband, walking into the dimly lit bedroom as i took off my white heels, setting them aside the now shut door. i watch as tommy began to unbutton his white dress shirt, and i sigh to myself, but loud enough to quirk his brow.
i tuck my hair behind my ears, walking to the bed and pulling the sheets down to prepare for what would hopefully be a fairly long sleep, given that i’d prefer not think much about who i was now standing across from.
“you don’t have to stay in here tonight if you don’t want to or even at all, tommy. you already have children and i’m aware you don’t want more, and frankly, i don’t want any, so just lie and tell polly the marriage was consummated tomorrow morning. go on.” i gesture my hand up and towards the door, watching his blank expression as i spoke in a more demanding, harsh manner.
he walked towards the bed, untucking his side, his shirt now unbuttoned and his toned, pale body at my exposure, which only made my cheeks redden as the muscles flexed with his movements. i may have despised the man for his profession, but it’s not like he wasn’t physically attractive.
“i may not be so found of you, mrs. shelby, but i do keep my marriage duties, at least to sleep beside you.” he says plainly, sitting down on the white sheets before looking up to me with a teasing expression. it almost felt wrong to see him show any emotion besides, well, none. “now, do i have to make you turn around while i fuck you, or can you bare the sight of me while doing so?”
i roll my eyes with a smirk, laying down and hovering my face above his before biting my bottom lip, glancing at his own with a bit of temptation, but nothing i couldn’t ignore for the sake of my ego. “i’m shocked you even asked to touch me, mr. shelby. peaky blinders have always seemed so forward with what they want.”
he tilted his head, his well-groomed hair bouncing lightly at the movement, now reaching over to hold the back of my neck, running his fingertips through the ends of my hair. “would you prefer i not ask? you didn’t strike me as the type of woman who’d prefer to be fucked like an animal.”
“you didn’t strike me as the type of man to wait until we were wed to even discuss sex, so we’re both a bit surprised. have you been distracted with other women through our engagement, dear husband?”
he scoffed at my comment, sitting up and leaning himself down to peck at my neck lightly, his heated breath against my tingling skin, a pit forming in my stomach at the touch he never dared grant me until now.
“you never gave me any suggestion to fuck before tonight, [y/n]. i assumed you wouldn’t allow me to lay a finger on you. this all seemed like a business opportunity, a plan for protection and financies, nothing more.” he muttered through his kisses, trailing his lips down to my covered chest before looking up to me again. “so, how about i ask you like a gentlemen, mrs. shelby. is this for business, or not?”
i shrug softly, glancing down to meet his seductive, icy blue eyes. “i think i’ll be able to tell if it is or not when you fuck me, mr. shelby."
he reached over to pull me on top of him, grabbing the white gown that dressed me and helping me to slip it off my core and past my arms, tossing it to the floor, which exposed me in nothing but my underwear, my breasts falling out of the fabric and resting before him. he took one hand to hold my back, the other cupping one breast and his thumb flicking at the hardening nipple. i feel him push me down, his lips attaching to the bud as i let out a soft moan, shocked by how sensual thomas shelby could be if directed to do so.
i could feel the bulge in his pants growing, beginning to grind myself against the black pants while he fondled my breasts with his mouth and free hand, the other that was once on my back now guiding itself down to my ass. he pulled himself away from my breast, panting softly to himself as the tension began to increase between our moving bodies.
“take off your panties and lay down on your back, won't you.” he said to me in a more demanding tone. i stood up and did so, spreading my legs before him as he undressed himself at the side of the bed, soon leaning down in front of me.
i chew my bottom lip at the sight of the man before me, but gasp as his tongue links to my clit, swirling and flicking around the sensitive bud of skin, while i only grow wetter through his touch and the saliva that collected against my entrance. i reach down to hold his head of black hair, my other hand resting against my chest while he continued to give me nothing but pleasure.
“this… this doesn’t seem… like b-business to me…” i stutter my words, my back arching at every sensitive touch he brought to my body. my words made him pull away, a smirk on his wet lips as he stuck one finger inside of me, pumping and curling it slowly enough to draw a loud moan from my lips before pulling it out right after.
he leaned down and gestured for me to open my mouth, sticking his finger inside for me to taste my own juices before pulling it out and licking it himself.
“neither does this, how wet you are for me. are you sure you want to take back the consummation of our arrangement, hm? it seems you like my tongue, mrs. shelby. do you think i’ll like yours?” he grinned, standing up and pointing his full erection towards me, holding it in one hand as i sat up on the bed.
i blush, getting off of the bed and onto my knees before him. i take his length into one hand, pumping it slowly as i look up to him, our eyes locked when i lean forward and take his tip into mouth, a heavy sigh coming from his lips as i begin to suck him off. he was thick and much longer than any man i’d ever been with, and frankly, if we were to sleep together tonight, i was a bit nervous of how my body would take him and the aftermath of it all tomorrow morning.
“fuck, fill your throat with me, [y/n]..” he moaned, both hands holding the back of my head as he thrusted himself towards my face. i took his cock down my throat, my eyes closing almost immediately as a tear runs down my cheek from the unexpected penetration, moving my head back and forth as his balls slap against my wet chin.
he tilted his head, mouth hung open as he watched me take him down my throat. i could hear his breath cutting short each time he thrusted, his cock twitching inside my mouth as he edged himself through each stroke. when he could tell through my reddening expression and glossy eyes that i was a bit overstimulated, he slowly pulled himself out of my mouth, leaning down to help me back on my feet and onto the bed.
he kneeled down before me, grabbing my face with both hands and pressing a passionate kiss against my lips, his tongue pushing itself into my mouth, which distracted me from the way he was moving my body off the bed again. he wraps his arms around me and guides me across the room and to the dresser, where he then breaks the kiss and turns me around, bending my body against the wood to where i made eye contact with the mirror that connected the furniture.
"i think this is worth the watch, don't you?" he teases, a devilish smirk across his face as he takes my neck in one hand, the other trailing before my pussy, his index and middle fingers attaching to my clit as he pushes himself inside of me without warning.
i gasp, watching my mouth open as he begins to fuck me, hard, against the dresser. the stimulation above my insides didn't make this any easier to take, given the fact i could already feeling my climax building in a matter of seconds.
i rest both palms against the wood, watching tommy's lips trail to my shoulder as he kissed against my sweating skin, leaving fresh hickeys from time to time, marking me like i was more than just an arrangement to him. if anything, this showed me that thomas shelby may not favor me, but he sure wanted the world to know i was his wife, and no one else's.
"i could fuck you all day, [y/n]. nothing fucking... compares to... how good you feel, fuck.." he muttered between kisses, looking up to meet my eyes in the mirror, his hand moving from my neck to hold my left breast tightly, halting it from bouncing throughout his thrusts. "do you feel me as much as i feel you?"
i nod, mouth still hung open, unable to even speak a word as tommy pulled my body closer, his fingers digging into my clit and forcing me to arch my back down, my ass pressing against him and causing even harsher friction between our bodies while he quickened his pace at the touch, the sound of our skin slapping together overpowering the bedroom.
i suddenly feel his arm wrap around my waist, and then the other, holding me so close and his body leaned so far down my back was touching his core. he thrusted deeper, further than what i even thought was possible for him to go, and so much so to the point i was in immense pain, but god, it felt so fucking good. his cock overpowered my entire body, and i felt my orgasm rushing to the surface, fluids leaking out from inside of me past himself and dripping between my legs, his own orgasm filling my insides within a matter of seconds after.
i feel him slide out of me, catching his own breath and helping turn me around to face him. he takes my hand and places the other on my back, guiding me to the bed once more and laying me down, pulling the sheet on top of me to cover my stomach down, my breasts exposed to the cold air. i feel his lips against my chest, lightly kissing from my nipples, to my shoulders, to my neck, and to my lips, once more. he smiles softly, and genuinely, to me, before snapping out of his sappy mood to grab a cigarette from the nightstand, lighting it.
"do you think we'll be doing this again?" he asks quietly, handing me the cigarette. "doesn't seem like it would be a negative thing to add to our arrangement, eh?"
i smirk, blowing the smoke out from my lips and towards the ceiling. "i wouldn't be opposed, but if you fuck me that hard every time, i'm not sure i would be able to get out of bed the next morning."
he chuckled to himself, standing up and walking to the other side of the bed, sliding himself into the sheets and putting out the cigar. he took me into his arms, lighting running his hand across my hair. "we can see about that. goodnight, mrs. shelby."
i rest my head against his chest, closing my eyes and smiling to myself, partially hoping tommy wouldn't see my vunerability.
"goodnight, mr. shelby."
#smut writing#cillian murphy#cillian murphy x reader#thomas shelby imagine#peaky blinders imagine#thomas shelby#peaky blinders x reader#x reader#thomas shelby peaky blinders#x yn#smut#fanfic#fanfiction#fic writing#thomas shelby x reader smut#tommy shelby x you#peaky blinders fanfic#peaky blinders smut
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Of Bending and Breaking || Tommy Shelby x Reader
Summary: Always being the one who cares for others comes with a price: you break down, but the most unexpected person is here for you: Tommy, the man you were forced to marry.
Words: 2,3k
TW: Hurt/Comfort, very tiny mention of past sexual assault, no proofreading 'cause it comes from clearing my drafts.
Notes: Aunt Isabella's is a tribute to my own aunt Isabelle who, unfortunately, died because of cancer a few years ago.
It all started with Polly shaking Tommy like a tree, her thin hands firmly grabbing his nephew’s broad shoulders: “You can’t keep sabotaging yourself like this, Tom.” These were the words that left her quivering lips as she dragged his staggering frame to the bathroom and pushed his face into the bathtub right under the tap. When the freezing water splashed all over his neck, Tommy opened his blank eyes wide and inhaled sharply, as if he had suddenly come back to life. Since Grace’s awful death, the gangster was the shadow of his former self. When he wasn’t waging a senseless war with Father Hughes and the Italian, or when he wasn’t keeping his buzzing mind busy with work, Tommy usually numbed himself with a deadly combination of whisky and opium until his deep-seated pain became bearable. It was the night he almost overdosed that Polly decided to take charge of his nephew and found him a new wife, in the hope of soothing his nephew’s mind and finding a mother figure for poor little Charlie. The idea had obviously sent Tommy in a fit of anger but Polly Gray couldn’t care less.
Regarding your own situation, it was not the opium nor the loss of a dear lover that had led you to Birmingham’s most dangerous man but rather the bump in your belly. Aunt Isabella had understood what you were suffering from the moment you had stormed out of the vardo to throw up your breakfast in the nearest bush. The tall and lean woman, whose light brown and curly mane danced in the cold autumn wind, had looked at you right in the eyes and raised one of her thin eyebrows. If there was something pleasant with her, it was that words weren’t necessary.
Yet, later she encountered Polly, with whom she had been a great friend since childhood, and explained that a powerful American man had forced his seeds in you during his stay in England. Not willing to go through the traumatic experience of aborting, Isabella only saw one solution to your problem: you needed a husband who could protect you and your future baby from the evil man with his scarred lip. A wedding would be your salvation. At the realization of what Aunt Isabella had planned for you, you tried to run away from the camp in the middle of the night but she knew you too well and soon caught you, her sly hand firmly grabbing your wrist: “Y/N! It’s for your sake! He’s rich, he needs a wife and he is feared! You’ll be safe with him, don’t you understand?” She explained, cupping your face with her long fingers adorned with claws painted in red and far too many rings. “I don’t need a man to protect me! I don’t need anyone. He’s older and he’s a criminal! Who’s going to protect me from him eh? Have you think ‘bout that?” You cried, the soft light of the sunrise turning your tears into liquid gold.
But still, you wedded him and what was supposed to be the happiest day of your life turned out to be a dull event during which you dissociated the whole time. The only memories you had in mind were two piercing and frightening turquoise eyes staring right at your soul and soft whiskey-tasting lips stealing a quick peck from your cherry lips. A kiss devoid of any form of affection. And then, the groom left.
From what Aunt Isabella told you, your husband had spent most of the celebrations with his brothers, drinking and taking bets outside of Arrow House. Months had passed and still, you felt estranged to this place and its staff. The only moments your heart lightened were when Aunt Isabella visited you, or when Charlie spent time with you, otherwise you remained emotionally closed, trapped in your own mind. Overall you could not complain: You had a house far too big for you with plenty of workers willing to exhaust every one of your wishes. Charlie was a sweet boy, who loved you with all his heart even if you were well aware that you’ll never replace his mother. As for the Shelby clan, they were cordial with you without being really friendly either. And there was Tommy…
Cold and distant Tommy, who you only saw late at night when he discretely slipped under the bedsheet and turned his back to you without uttering a single word. Busy Tommy, whose replies remained concise and spoken with a quiet husky voice each time you asked him something — at least he talked to you a little bit. Trapped in a loveless marriage, that was what you were: Tommy was more a stranger, a mere gust of wind in your life, than the love of your life.
Still, the gangster stayed true to his words and he provided for everything, never refusing to give you money when you asked, and protecting you from the man who had taken your innocence. He even gifted you a wonderful stallion because he knew how much you missed riding. In exchange for his protection and riches, all you had to do was take care of Charlie and do your best to be there for your husband when his darkness threatened to swallow him whole.
You found out about the nightmares shortly after your wedding and quickly decided to do something about it. When he woke up screaming and drenched in sweat after tasting the tunnels’ dirt and Grace’s crimson blood in his troubled sleep, you always cradle him, your fingers losing themselves in his wet dark hair to pet his head gently. At first, you feared his reaction, expecting the infamous Tommy Shelby to push you and not-so-kindly ask you to keep your distance but, to your greatest surprise, he never did. Instead, he would bury his face in your cleavage, panting and trembling, and let you reassure him. Just like he let you bring dinner to him each time he drowned himself in paperwork and forgot to eat. He never commented on your cooking skills though, even if he always handed back empty plates.
The blood on his skin? You cleaned it.
The wounds of his flesh? You never failed to patched them up.
The hole in his heart? You tried to seal it off with caresses, soft kisses, and shoulder massages. Maybe one day he would slowly turn his iciness into affection. Little did you know that he needed it. And by it he needed you. Just like the whole family. How many times did you walk the streets of Birmingham at night, seeking for Arthur and then bringing him home to take care of a wasted and high him? Far too many to keep track. Similarly, you had spent countless evenings helping Ada when she felt overwhelmed, either nursing Karl or cleaning her house when, just like her brother, she overworked herself. And finally, Polly could never thank you enough for everything you did to soothe her mind after the gallows, still haunted by the bite of the hanging rope on her throat.
“Thanks Poppy.” Arthur muttered, the gravel in his voice coated with shame now that you were down clearing and disinfecting his split knuckles. The oldest brother had started to affectionately call you so for the sole reason that, according to him, you must probably grow better when blood was considering how much you had seen when patching the Shelby siblings. “Sorry for errr… For the mess.” He went on, his steel blue eyes fleeing yours.
“That’s okay.” You replied in Romani, “You, sweet idiot.” Endeared by how surprisingly soft Arthur’s harsh complexions could turn, you couldn’t help but gently put your hand on one of his cheeks. And during this tender display of affection, Arthur was convinced he had caught sight of a smile — a scarce event barely happening on your beautiful but resigned face. Comforted by the warmth of your palm, he leaned into your touch and looked at you through dark lashes, his lids half-closed.
“Tommy’s one lucky bastard to have ya for himself, eh."
"Let's both flee together then." You teased, the familiar tone of Romani language rendered even more melodious by your siren-like voice.
"Don't tempt me, little one." Arthur replied, softer than intended and probably only half-joking.
The oldest Shelby brother had barely closed the door when your smile disappeared and tears flooded your eyes. Admittedly, spending months of repressing your own anguish didn’t do any good to you despite thinking that focusing on others would have helped. Quite the contrary, all those negative emotions you had left on the back burner turned into a silent and deadly parasite that was eating you up. Dragging your tired frame to the cold and empty marital bedroom, you curled up in a ball in a corner of the room, your bruised knees pressed against your chest, “Positive. You gotta stay positive and push forwards y’see Y/N? Do the right things for the family…” You whispered to yourself as your breath started to quicken for the ball of sorrow in your throat was growing more and more. Yes, you had to smile and say that all was just fine because you knew you were lucky to be here and that you hadn’t any real reason to complain now according to the rest of the world. And yet, the truth was you were tired. So tired and overwhelmed by everything around you. With your wild soul trapped here in the mighty walls of Arrow House, you could not help but drown in an excruciating feeling of worthlessness.
You were lost in a world too difficult for you to understand. Lost and unprepared for a life that asked for too much. When you were living in the vardo with Aunt Isabella life seemed so much easier despite the lack of money and, sometimes, food. Prior to your wedding, she used to tell you that everything would become clear once you’d be a wife and a mother. You’d be an adult adult, you see? But she lied. They all lied. Even with a husband and kids, you still felt like a scared and confused child, who wanted to hide under the blanket of her warm bed and never face the world ever again. These concerns of yours? You never shared because you wanted the Shelby to keep seeing you as a reassuring presence— moreover, God knew how much their broken hearts needed your silent care.
Bringing your trembling fingers to your mouth, you muffled a first sob, convinced it would be enough to keep you from crying. What you didn’t expect was to burst into tears, uncontrollably weeping. After all this time forcing yourself to be strong, your mind had enough. As your heart-wrenching cries echoed in the room they muffled Tommy’s footsteps that were coming closer and closer. When the door flung open, you did not even move, lost in a spiral of pain and psychological exhaustion.
“Y/N?!” Tommy called you, his usual coldness swept away by a surge of panic. He closed the distance between you and him with hastened steps, and put one of his knees on the floor to be at your level, “What’s wrong, ay?” His husky voice asked, worries thickening his Brummie accent even more. You hiccuped and raised your flooded eyes towards him, parting your lips to answer. Yet, as soon as your gaze met his turquoise iris you started weeping again, louder this time. Words were at a loss by dint of never having the chance to express what you felt throughout your life. “Bloody Hell, Y/N! Speak!” Tommy hissed, his heart now drumming in his chest at the sight of his young and always-so-strong wife crumbling in bits in front of him. Never in his life, he had felt so powerless, not even in the tunnels… And, God, he hated it.
“N-nothing. I don’t… I don’t even know it’s just that— I’m so fucking tired, and lost, and confused, and afraid!” You spoke with a very fast pace, spitting years and years of repressed emotions flowing from you all the while feeling deeply ashamed of your mental breakdown. When you were done venting, you simply turned your head and waved off the topic, tears still rolling down your reddened cheeks “Anyway! You’ve got — more important things to do.”
“Stop it, Y/N,” He scolded, low voice rumbling in his chest. His strong and calloused hands, damaged by the war and hard work, cupped your face with a softness you didn’t know he possessed. For the first time in your life, his grip felt utterly reassuring as if you knew these scarred palms were not going to let you fall apart. Never. “You’re what’s important right now.” With that being said, Tommy leaned his forehead against yours and his enchanting eyes soon met yours to force you to focus on nothing else but the vast blue oceans which composed them. “I want you to calm down.”
“I can’t, I can’t—“ You tried to speak but you couldn’t, struggling to breathe under the crushing weight of your panic attack. Your mouth gaped, looking for the oxygen it couldn’t find.
“Oi!” Tommy said louder. So loud that his voice managed to overcome the cacophony of your beating heart and the buzzing sound of your anxiety that filled your head, “I want you to breathe with me, Y/N. Alright? You can do that for me, ay?” He asked, his eyebrows slightly frowned and charming crowfeet appearing at the corner of his eyes — how odd it was to see Tommy’s face veiled with something else than unsettling placidity. Caught off guard by the sudden realization of how close he was, you quieted down a little bit and soon followed the pattern of his breathing.
One long inhale through the nose, one longer exhale through the mouth, and a short pose.
Do it again.
Your shaky hands slowly grabbed his wrists in a desperate attempt to anchor you to reality. This, as well as the focus you had on his mesmerizing complexions.
His long dark lashes — you inhaled slowly.
His cat-like turquoise iris — you exhaled.
His salient cheekbones — You stopped breathing for a very short while.
The myriad of freckles — “Breathe with me, Y/N.”
The soft, hoarse lilt guided you through the dark and thick fog of your own brain, just like a lighthouse. Coming back to clearer waters, your body finally relaxed and fell almost limp in his arms. And once again he caught you, keeping you all safe against his chest. Tommy’s voice, low and steady, resonated one last time in the bedroom with a reassuring warmth as he uttered the simple yet powerful phrase, "I'm here." Each word carefully enunciated, carrying a quiet strength that soothed and reassured, like a comforting anchor in a stormy sea.
Keep your writers motivated: Reblog and/or comment if you liked it, you filthy animal! o/ English is not my first language btw.
Taglist: @adaydreamaway08 @theshelbyclan @jomarch-wannabe @esposadomd @zablife @woofgocows @anathemasworld @anastasia000 @kate654 @kxnnxy @babayaga67 @meowtastick @shelbyssins @sarai-ibn-la-ahad @bluevenus19 @raincoffeeandfandoms @kishie8 @zablife @alexandra-001 @dearshelby @alexizodd @helen06dreamer @kmc1989 @emotionalcadaver @peakyswritings @peakyltd @chaosinkest1996 @vanhelsingsbigtoe @red-riding-wood
#Tommy Shelby#Tommy Shelby x reader#Tommy Shelby imagine#Peaky blinders imagine#Peaky blinders x reader#Peaky blinders#tommy shelby x you#tommy shelby x y/n#Tommy Shelby smut#Thomas Shelby#Thomas Shelby x reader#Cillian Murphy#peaky blinders x y/n
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All The Things We Don't Say
Pairing: Tommy Shelby x Female Reader
Summary: An anthology of your life with Tommy, from friends to strangers to lovers, and all the little moments in between.
Warnings: 18+, implied DV, substance abuse, childhood trauma, ptsd, overprotective tommy, swearing, brief smut, longfic oneshot, feminist themes (motherhood & being a wife in the 1920s).
ao3 link
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Smash!
“Pick it up!”
Your daddy was a drunk. You remembered the fact since you could walk. He stayed home while the working men left for the factories, then disappeared in the late hours of the morning until his eventual return when the slam of the front door woke the household up. Mother used to hold you at night as she curled up in your bed. She was sick a lot. Always sniffing into the back of your neck when you were asleep. Sometimes the sleeve of your nightgown would get soaked while she muffled her hiccups.
She looked sad, too. In the morning, she kept the curtains drawn and stayed away from the outside world. She told you it was to keep nosey Mrs. Gretel away from her family affairs. But Mrs. Gretel had left Birmingham two months prior.
By seven years old, you were the 'man' of the house. You had gone to sleep one night, and when you awoke, your mother had vaporized into the air like a rabbit in a hat.
“She left because of you,” your father slurred at you.
You hated him.
She left behind her long-sleeve dresses, scarves, and wicker hats that covered nearly every inch of her skin. They were far too big for you then, but when your father came home at the end of the week with a stack of cash, you ran to your mother’s closet, which had remained untouched until then, to find only cobwebs. Gone. Every single one of her dresses. You looked out at the moon in those early hours of the morning and swore to it that when you were bigger, you would get him back so much worse.
And so you were left to clean up his smashed glass bottles and scrub the alcohol out of the gritty carpet. Your little hands struggled to pluck the glass from the floorboards. In a year’s time, they were covered in little scars.
On your tenth birthday, you decided you were grown enough to take matters into your own hands. When he was passed out on the floor from whatever he managed to fill his pipe with, you grabbed the small bottles he hid under a loose floorboard and poured them into the gutter at the back of your house.
You turned to run back to the door when the contents of the bottle were empty, but a ball almost tripped you over. You gripped your tattered skirt before you could lose your footing and snapped your head around with a fierce pout.
“That’s my ball,” pointed a young Thomas Shelby.
You put your small hands on your smaller hips. “You kicked it my way on purpose!”
You weren’t entirely sure, but you suspected it.
“Maybe I thought you were pretty,” he grinned.
You noticed his two front teeth were missing.
“Ewwww! I would never go out with you!” You squawked.
At ten years old, you knew better than that.
Seemingly unaffected by your distaste, he continued. “Do you live there?” He nodded to the house whose roof was falling apart.
“What’s it to you?” You frowned stubbornly, not wanting to admit that, yes, that was your house.
“The curtains are always drawn,” he answered, walking over to pick up his ball from your feet. He was the same height as you were at the time. “My brother Arthur said it’s haunted. He saw a ghost in the window once. He said it was a woman and that she starved to death.”
Your nose scrunched up. "Well, he’s a phony!”
You ran inside said house and slammed the door shut.
He kissed you down by the docks that winter. It was your first kiss, and a clumsy one at that, so you didn’t remember much of it.
By thirteen, you had given in and sold the rest of your mother’s belongings to support yourself. You hated yourself for it, and that nagging voice inside your head told you that you were no better than your father. Oh, and your father? Your father lost vision in his left eye from a bar fight. Too bad it wasn’t both.
Sometime later, a boy two years older than you saw your wandering hand in someone’s bag at the fair and threatened to teach you some manners ‘the hard way’. You bit anxiously on your nails and pleaded with him because he was bigger than most boys his age, when Tommy’s brother Arthur (who you’d seen hanging around the Garrison) came passing by and threatened to ‘toss him about’. The other boy, not all believing in Arthur’s temper, rushed forward, and the two ended up rolling in the dirt, but by then you were gone with a stolen pocket watch in your fist. Nearly two legs and an arm deep in poverty, some quick cash, or a hero complex? You’d take the penny.
At fourteen, a lady knocked on your door. It was a lady of the night who had come to inform your father that he had fathered a son with her. You were glad it was a boy. A girl wouldn’t have stood a chance in the slums of Birmingham. Life was hard, but Birmingham was harder. Your father had refused to listen to the young woman and shooed her off. You never saw her teary-eyed face again.
At fifteen, your father attempted to wash his hands of you by marrying you off to the highest bidder. There was no real auction, but just about anyone who suggested a handsome sum of money did the trick.
“His name is William,” you exhaled, kicking your legs over the edge of the dock.
Tommy laughed. “You won’t marry him.”
“What choice do I have, Tom?”
Your finances were getting tight, and the gloomy pressure to take up working at night like many young ladies was beginning to loom closer and closer. You hated being a woman. Boys would never have to worry about selling themselves to survive.
“I’ll put a gypsy curse on him,” he decided, squinting his eyes from the bright reflection dancing across the water.
You hit his shoulder.
“No, you won't, because then you’ll be cursing me.”
The severity of your situation began to dawn on Tommy. No amount of pestering Polly for change to spare would relieve you of your burden any longer.
“That’s it, then?” He gulped, shifting his glassy eyes to the harbor.
You sighed and followed his gaze.
“Maybe it won’t be so bad. I’ll never have to see dad again, and William promised to take care of me.”
Tommy scoffed.
You frowned at him. “What?”
He shook his head.
“What! Tom—”
“Don’t marry him.”
You rolled your eyes. “Oh, here we go, why?”
“You know why.”
You were engaged to William on the eve of your seventeenth birthday. He was a very proper man and never dared to go any further than hooking an arm around yours on formal occasions. You were never attracted to his thin mustache nor the thick lenses he wore. In fact, he was incredibly awkward at social occasions, always checking his pocket watch and avoiding eye contact with whichever circle he stood in.
Tommy began to fade out of your life around that time. Margaret—a lady who had taken you on to help with the sewing of her family’s tailoring business—told you that Tommy was spotted arm in arm with another girl that week. You expected to feel jealous, but you felt nothing. You knew love would never be your right. Love was for the more fortunate.
You spent that year learning how to be a wife. Surprisingly, it wasn’t too different from what you did as a child—cooking and cleaning up like you did when your father came home, that is. It was comforting to have a routine in place. It meant finality—no one walking in and out of your life as they pleased, and certainly no more growling stomachs. Perhaps being a wife was a skill your mother never learned. You were grateful for William’s mother, who seemed to be more than enthusiastic to show you the reigns.
After a year-long engagement, you caught your fiancé, William, locked in a compromising position with another man.
“Oh,” was all you got out before leaving his house.
You lacked the special ingredient that marriages needed: love.
You sat down at the fountain across the street. William and his lover’s silhouette were visible behind the blinds he had drawn on the second floor, which peered over the sidewalk. You watched their shadows fluster their feathers around the room like headless geese, and for a moment your head surfaced above water and laughter frothed out between your sealed lips. Perhaps Birmingham made you a little mad.
You didn’t go through with the marriage. You suspected William was relieved.
That week, your father left. You never knew whether he left on his own accord or just never made it home one night. Either way, you never really cared to find out.
With nothing left to lose, you knocked on the Shelby family’s door at Watery Lane. Finn appeared around the other side of the door a moment later.
“Is Tommy home?”
Finn nodded, spinning on his heel to alert his brother. When Tommy did appear, his shoulders were tensed. Disheveled hair never looked so stylish on him. When you saw his suspenders (which were hastily thrown on), you wanted to ask who he expected to be at the door that he planned to answer dressed in such fashion but then thought better of it. He peered down at you, then checked over his shoulder before ushering you inside and up to his bedroom.
“It’s… smaller than I thought,” you landed on, taking in his room.
After all these years, you had never stepped foot into the Shelby home. You weren’t the type of person to come door-knocking.
You turned around to face Tommy after hearing him click the lock on his door.
“Are you hurt?" were the first words he had spoken to you in a year.
“No.” You pressed your lips together, eyeing everything from the bed to the view out the window.
Silence followed closely after.
“Then why are you here?” Tommy sighed.
Your vision began to blur then. “I don’t know,” you said honestly, trying to stop your bottom lip from trembling.
Desperately, you pushed your hair back and straightened up, attempting to hold yourself together. You must have looked like a puppet being held together by a string, given how poor you looked.
Tommy’s boots pad across the wooden floor. “You love me?”
Did that word truly exist? How could you answer if you never knew what it meant to love?
You don’t meet his eyes. He licked his lips, pushing your head up to meet his with his thumb. His eyebrows rose expectantly.
“I don’t know what to do, Tom,” you breathed, avoiding his question. “I’m all alone now. No William, no father…”
His lips parted, and you watched with fascination as the cogs turned in his head. “Yes… that is a problem." His breath fanned over your face.
You gagged, a reaction you yourself had not expected, before rushing to his door, only to remember that, yes, he had locked it, before turning to the nearest silver bucket in the corner to empty your guts.
The first thing you heard when you caught your breath was, “are you pregnant?”
No, but when you stand so close to me and I can smell the cigarettes you smoke and your freshly washed skin, I can imagine a future where we are married, and I see your face growing more disappointed as we age together because you married a woman who never knew how to be a mother to your children nor a wife who knew to tend to you with affection by your bedside when you’re ill.
“No,” you choked, spitting out the vile taste in your mouth. “We never did anything.”
You wanted him to know that. You wanted him to think that you never let William touch you because you never loved him, not because William wasn’t interested in girls.
A moment later, Tommy sat beside you on the floor and quietly combed your hair away from your wobbling lips.
“So, if you’re not pregnant and you don’t love me, why are you here?”
You wiped your mouth with the back of your hand. How were you supposed to answer that? After letting your guts loose in his room, you thought he would surely have booted you out the door.
A knock came on the door: “Tommy?”
“A minute, Finn!” Tommy growled at the door, refusing to back away from your trembling frame.
You were so hungry. Margaret had to cut back your hours ever since her husband fell ill. She spent more time by his bedside than keeping the store open, which meant you were making less than usual. The imminent closing of the store hung over your head like a taunting crow, gouging your insides like you were Prometheus. Birmingham your chains, a woman your fate, and the bird your punishment for thinking you deserved more.
“I should go.” You shivered at the draft inching towards your skin from the open window.
Tommy’s intense gaze stuttered, falling to your lap, where you picked at the dead skin around your nails. He cleared his throat, fishing out the key from his pocket. Although it was dull and muted from the years, it gleaned brightly in your eyes as if it were the reward you came for. Flushed, you grabbed it out of his hands without sparing a glance. Electricity sparked in those precious seconds, igniting a deadly fire in your belly.
“You’re cold." Tommy flinched at your touch.
You retreated as soon as the key slid into the hole and unlocked with a click. In your haste, you left the most valuable thing you owned there in his room.
Your heart.
The months went by, and summer arrived. The stories your mother told you left you expecting a bright gleam of air that would wash over the streets and paint each tree and every patch of grass a frighteningly bright green that would even encourage grumpy Mrs. Gretel to come out to preen her stubborn roses that would just not grow. Birmingham left less to be desired. The summer days never came, and that persisting bitter bog thickened, albeit with slightly less rain. There were gray clouds, smoke from the factories, and a shivering north westerly, which pushed said clouds at breakneck speed as if they had somewhere to be. You looked to the sky one day and said a prayer for blue breezes and sweltering sun, but the sky was empty.
Sometime later, men marched the streets armed with guns in their ‘dashing’ uniforms. A war, they said, a great one. Queues lined the street for the post offices and grocers. Rain rivaled the bustle of the city. What did it feel like to love someone so much as to stand in the pouring rain next to the gutter? You wanted that kind of love. Not the love you could only give yourself because even you didn’t want your own love.
One of the soldiers decorated in medals stood on a crate at the port, yelling something supposedly inspiring that captured the attention of many young men. The words honorable and patriotic were tossed in there like a delectable salad, enticing them in the way farmers held a carrot to a pig’s snout.
You pitied their mothers. Their daughters were married off, and then their sons were swooning over the idea of dying. Birmingham was filthy, rotting, and disgusting. You needed to leave.
You kissed Margaret goodbye on the cheek one Tuesday morning. Ever since your pockets turned out empty, you had been working as a bedside nurse for her ill-stricken husband. They were good to you, and they were probably the only people you could consider family.
She patted your cheek and said, "you're doing good to serve this country.”
You hadn’t had the heart to tell her you were leaving because the city was marring your flesh, so you slipped her the sugarcoated lie of wanting to join the war effort so that you might help others who were bedridden, just like her husband.
At the train station, you stood with your suitcases held tightly in both arms. You had to set one down to hold onto your hat as a train full of men waving their caps out the window pulled into the station. Some children weaved between the crowd, wagging a newspaper above their heads, hoping to make a quick penny. To your side, women wept for their brothers, husbands, and lovers.
“Who are you wishing off?” asked an elderly woman who was clutching her cane.
“Oh, I’m not. I’m boarding the next train.”
She laughed, and you wondered how old your mother would be now. Would she have grown wrinkles and settled into a deeper laugh like this woman?
“My dear, you have a bright imagination if you think they will let a woman on any of these trains.”
A sudden anger filled your blood. “Why not?”
“These men are heading straight for London, where they will be shipped away to France to fight,” the woman explained as if it were any other day.
“I’ll catch the next train then.”
She shook her head, and her frail hand curled tighter around her cane. “They’ve stopped the trains so they can transport soldiers to London.”
You frowned. “Then how will I leave Birmingham?”
You’ll never forget her dismissive laughter.
“My dear, you won’t.”
Men boarded the train, clapping each other on the back with a wink and a laugh. When a line of men on the platform thinned, the train whistled, and you looked over just in time to see Polly, Ada, and little Finn standing with their hands crossed over their hearts as they waved to the train.
No. It wasn’t possible.
But it was because you caught the gleam of the razors sewn into their peaky caps. Tommy, Arthur, and John all stood aboard the train, sticking their heads out and waving to Polly and Ada with a grin that wrung your stomach like a wet cloth.
Those countless daydreams you spun, the intricate webs you wove, began breaking down to thin fibers. In one pathway, you stayed there in his room and told him the truth you always denied yourself. You loved him. In another, you stood next to Polly, close to tears, as you begged him to come home safely. There was a resounding click in that moment as your breath stuttered. You had been the person who wiped away those futures, thinking it was nothing but an annoying spiderweb. Oh, how wrong you were!
“Tommy!” You left your suitcases behind and stepped around the old woman as you ducked under hugs and tearful goodbyes.
“Tommy!” You cried again with the gusto of someone who certainly shouldn’t be as concerned as they were considering you left him in his room that day.
Thankfully, his eyes eventually found yours as you pushed through the last line of people. You stood there and stomached all your regrets head-on. It was funny how, up until that moment, you managed to squash every seed of doubt. Why was it that you only realized what you had when it was slipping out of reach?
He never called your name back. He just stared at you blankly as the train pulled away, unlike you, who clung to the image of his frame even as the train disappeared from sight and the crowd began to disperse. You stood there unblinking, hoping to soak up the last of him before you forgot the intensity of his eyes or the humming rumble of his voice. Because the idea of something you held dearly becoming a memory meant that it could as easily be forgotten, and that terrified you. Your eyes were watering now, against your best wishes.
You overheard Polly ushering Finn and Ada off. Finn rushed home without protest, but Ada stopped in her tracks when she saw you hunched over your knees in tears. She smiled weakly before chasing Finn home. It was then that Polly’s shadow approached your huddled frame. She didn’t say anything, and for a moment, you weren’t sure if she expected you to stand and apologize for being such a mess. That’s when a penny clattered to the ground beside you. She squeezed your shoulder once before disappearing.
You kissed that penny as if Tommy would feel the power of it across the country, then ran back to Margaret’s, having forgotten your suitcases.
“Oh…” She exclaimed, slapping her tea towel on the counter when you walked into the kitchen. “You missed your train?”
Dread made your stomach tender and your breath short.
“I’m enrolling in the Red Cross.”
-
Throughout the war, you thought of Tommy every day until your stomach lurched. Would it have worked if you had stayed? Would you both have grown old together instead of subjecting yourself to the spray of dirt when a bomb went off nearby?
A day ago, your supply rations never came. It wasn’t like hunger was anything new, but when your mind was too focused on surviving the perilous weather, it was hard to save other lives. You made work with what little supplies you had left. The morphine went stint within hours of its arrival, and the cries of pained soldiers filled the medical tent all night. You did what you could, wiped sweat from their foreheads, and wrote letters to their mothers and lovers with what supplies you could scavenge. Some were written on cardboard from shell packaging, others on torn pages from the bibles they kept over their hearts. Pens were useless—the ink ran in the rain—so you scribbled everything down in pencil.
Before you left for France, you were warned of the bullets. No one ever warned you about the shrapnel, nor the bombs or grenades. They shattered soldiers’ bones beyond repair and left bodies unrecognizable. There wasn’t much you could do when most of their flesh was missing.
Keeping faith became an impossible task. Supplies were depleted, and nurses were dejected. Sally, who had been writing home for news of her brother, recently had her letters returned with the black stamp. Death—return to sender. She spent only an hour sitting on a trunk, letting her tears fall, before she got back to work. Grief privileged those with time, something no one could afford in these conditions.
Then it came—the day Arthur Shelby was carried in on a stretcher. You were making your rounds around the beds when a truckload of yelling men pooled through the entrance of the tent.
“Nurse!” They all yelled, some limping, others setting down stretchers of men on the dirt between the filled beds.
You and two other nurses dropped everything and ran over to attend to the wounded. They were all covered head to toe in dirt, groaning and clutching limbs that were twisted the wrong way. One in particular coughed and huffed while he fought against hands, which were fruitlessly pushing him back down on the stretcher.
“Let me go!” He yelled, wrestling against an older nurse.
“It’s alright, Mary. I’ll handle this one,” you patted her shoulder as you swapped places.
You dunked a washcloth into a bucket of water to wipe away the dirt in his eyes. “Calm down; you're safe here,” you said, starting your usual script of reassurances.
When the striking blue eyes squinted up at you, your blood ran cold. You froze before taking his head in both your hands, despite his protests. “Arthur? Arthur, it’s me!”
He loosened his grip on your wrist. “Huh?”
“It’s me! Where’s Tommy and John?”
He spat blood and gritted his teeth. “Fucking hell, where’s the whiskey?”
You laughed despite the smell of blood encompassing the tent. You quickly fetched the alcohol you had been using to clean wounds and pressed it to his lips. You weren’t sure if it was whiskey or not, but you reasoned he was in too much pain to be able to tell. He drank it with a groan of pleasure. You didn’t try to snatch the bottle away as he emptied it down his palette; you just sat and grinned at the way he suckled it like a newborn baby while you cleaned away his cuts.
“I’ve never been happier to see you, Arthur.”
“Yeah, yeah,” he mumbled, his lips still wrapped around the bottle.
You tried to stay by his side for as long as you could before the second wave of patients came tumbling through the flaps of the tent. One of them lost their grip on the stretcher, and the patient went sliding into the dirt headfirst.
“Fuck!” They all swore, abandoning the stretcher to drag the limp man further into the makeshift hospital.
You rushed to help when a hand gripped the back of your neck. You yelped in pain as your hair got caught in a fingernail when they turned you to face them.
And there he was: Tommy Shelby, covered in a thick layer of dirt, heaving for air.
“Nurse! Nurse!” Voices cried for you, but between the ringing in your ears and the wrath in Tommy’s blue eyes, you were frozen in place.
“The fuck are you doing here, eh?” He yelled over the anguished men.
You suddenly felt stupid standing there in your Red Cross uniform.
“I was looking for you, I—”
His dirty hands cupped your cheeks—something you were painfully aware of from the uncomfortable itch from the mud on your flushed skin—and pulled your forehead to his.
“You think this is some fantasy?” He squinted. “You think there’s any fucking moonlight to kiss under here, eh?” He spat.
His eyes held that haunted look you had seen on many soldiers that passed through the medical tent. Your eyes watered. Perhaps it was from the humidity and dirt being kicked up as nurses and patients scuffled around, not because you could hardly recognize the man in front of you. The blood smeared above his eyebrow worried you, so you reasoned that he was mad because it had been leaking into his eyes. Dutifully, you reached to wipe it with the back of your hand. He grabbed your wrist harshly, bringing it down to your side. He was in shock; you scolded yourself.
“Where’s John and Arthur?” Tommy swallowed, flexing his hands.
You led him to Arthur, who had been left in his corner while the nurses attended to more serious cases. It hurt watching the brothers reunite after their ordeal, so you left them alone no matter how much you feared them being discharged before your return. After all, everything you ever wanted sat in that corner, but it would be selfish to coddle Tommy all to yourself. Still, you couldn’t help sparing a glance when you walked up and down the tent, attending to patients.
Later that night, he came to you under the candlelight of your tent. He cleared his throat upon entry. You were lying face-up on your cot when he cleared his throat and peeled back the entrance to enter. The candlelight painted the mountain peaks of his face in a dull amber and the valleys in a frightening shadow. You sat up, pulling the thick cover over your shift.
Tommy kneeled next to you, resting on the heels of his boots. He licked his chapped lips and itched his nose. “You don’t belong here.”
Your grip on the cover loosened. “Huh?”
Nothing prepared you for when he swung his brooding stare towards you. He exhaled loudly before running a hand over his face.
“You should have stayed in Birmingham.” He said it like a warning.
“And done what?”
Vulnerability never looked good on Tommy. His head hung and his fingers itched at the back of his head—a tick you used to love; now you weren’t so sure. Because your Tommy was never afraid, but this man in front of you was alarmingly tense despite the clear efforts to mask it.
What have they done to you, Tom?
Under the dim light of your tent, you barely recognized him. A stranger’s eyes were blown wide in a frightening state of shock, something most soldiers mirrored. War washed out the sweet blue pair you knew, refitting them for a steely weapon. You hated seeing him like this, so still, so unsteady, cocooned into the corner as if afraid to take up space.
You feared you looked no better. Having worked till the point of exhaustion, you usually found yourself awakening against a wooden crate or trunk to the cries of patients who demanded your attention despite your body not having the strength to stand. Today you had been lucky and found yourself crawling distance to your private tent when your knees started wobbling and your head lulling.
The wooden reinforcing of your private tent fought in vain to shelter your bodies from the elements; it still flapped and whipped about, sometimes rocking your cot. Yet Tommy remained still like those life-size stone statues you’d find outside an important building, brooding at the dirt and locked in an internal battle. You shifted to the edge of your makeshift bed and leaned close enough that you saw how the top buttons of his dirtied uniform were missing and most of his clothes were torn.
His arm, which was breaking out in goosebumps, lay heavily across his knee so that he could rest his forehead there limply. He looked in a bad enough condition that you feared the possibility of him succumbing to the wasteland threatening him outside your tent. You wrapped your arms around the scruff of his hair and pulled his face into your stomach, where he could hide from the terrible world. On instinct, his arms wound around your waist, and you felt his warm exhale against your skin through the thin fabric of your slip.
His tin water bottle clanged against the satchel he wore, which made you wonder if he had any time to rest at all if he still had all his equipment tied to his uniform.
“I didn’t…” His voice was muffled by your slip. He cleared his throat again, shaking his head.
When he dropped the thought, you spoke up. “Have you eaten?”
He slapped your thigh haphazardly. “No, do you have a cigarette?”
You resisted the urge to roll your eyes, instead gently pushing him away so you could kneel beneath your bed and fish a cigarette from your satchel. You pinched one from its tin case, then thought better of it and tossed it on Tommy’s lap. Gratefully, he collected one from the case and lit it with a nearby candle. You watched his chest rise and fall as he took an especially deep drag. His eyes shut as the nicotine rushed to his head.
“Fuck, that’s good,” he muttered under his breath.
“How are you here, Tommy? One of the night nurses should’ve been on watch.”
“Oh,” smoke puffed out of his mouth, and he raised his eyebrows, “there is.”
“Then how—”
“I had to see you.”
The butterflies in your stomach dove. The blue in his eyes appeared translucent as they hazed over like a ghost. His shoulders were slumped dejectedly, and he had a hand pushing through his greasy, unwashed hair to relieve his neck from the weight of his thoughts.
He pointed to you then, with the cigarette nursed between his fingers. “I need to know why you changed your mind.”
“About what, Thomas?”
His voice slurred and slipped into a deeper register from the lack of sleep. "Why you came back. Why you came to France.” Tommy shook his head lazily. “You expect me to believe you had a sudden change of heart? What? You a patriot now?” An amused exhale curled out while he took another drag. “Well I don’t believe it.”
You began shivering despite the way your body flushed.
“How’s Arthur?” You tried to avert the conversation.
“Bloody drunk off his ass.”
“And you?”
Tommy held your stare and swallowed dryly. “Trying.”
“You can go join him if you wish.”
He looked at the entrance of your tent as if he were weighing his options, then shook his head and took another drag before clearing his throat. “It’s different now.”
Naïvely, you sank to the ground beside him and rested a hand on his shoulder. “It doesn’t have to be.”
He sighed.
“I wish that were true.”
-
The next time you saw Tommy, you were working a shift at the hospital. After the war, you received a medal for your efforts, which easily got you a job in Birmingham. You pleaded with them to send you to any other hospital—London, Manchester, Liverpool—you didn’t care. Anywhere but Birmingham.
“You should be honored to work for me!” Exclaimed the head nurse at Birmingham Hospital, who didn’t seem too pleased with your distaste for the city.
You thought the job would be the final nail in the coffin, but you surprisingly got along well with the head nurse once you had put your animosity aside. So much so, she offered to lease you a room upstairs from hers.
Then came that dreaded night where you were finishing the filing of some documents when a patient was being rushed in. Your ears perked up, and you looked through the blinds of the office to see a man being rushed by. Something small and round had fallen off the stretcher while the nurses paid no attention, pushing him around the corner and down towards the operating theater. Curious, you exited the office.
And there on the ground was one of those peaky caps Tommy and his brothers used to wear. You knew this because you picked it up and nearly cut yourself on the blade that was sewn into the seam. You spent the next hour gnawing on your nails. Your imagination sparked ideas about the beaten man who was lying in an operating room two doors down in surgery. Was it Tommy? Arthur? John? The shadows under your eyes darkened at the thought. No, it was probably some other Peaky Blinder. The Shelby brothers were too careful. Still, you knocked over your coffee in a mad dash to the bathroom, where you heaved up your dinner.
You volunteered to stay until the morning, but the head nurse on duty for the night refused and sent you home. You didn’t sleep at all that night.
The next morning, you arrived early and made a beeline for the emergency ward. You grabbed the admission form and scanned the patient list. There were only two emergency patients who were listed under the final hour of your shift, a woman and a man, which made it easier to narrow it down to the man who was admitted at quarter to midnight in ward four, room seven.
When you peaked through the crack in the door, you knew you had been worried for a reason. Tommy lay under the covers, battered and bruised, with a swollen eye and a nasty scar where he had reportedly received surgery for trauma to the head.
You slipped inside quietly and closed the door. Tommy’s eyes were closed, and his mouth hung open, stealing miniscule amounts of air into his lungs. He looked as good as a ghost.
“Tommy…” You clutched his peaky cap (which you meant to return) between your fingers.
He didn’t move an inch, so you set the cap down by his bedside table, carefully watching the rise and fall of his chest.
What have they done to you, Tom?
On the second week, he woke up while you were cleaning the windowsill. He coughed, and you whipped around in shock.
“Nurse?” He asked hoarsely, blinking away the blinding light.
You rushed to his side, tears bursting like the fountain you passed on your way to work.
“Don’t move,” you urged when he tried to sit up.
“I have to get to London,” he slurred, only half awake.
You weren’t upset that he didn’t recognize you. You weren’t upset that he didn’t recognize you.
“Tommy… it’s me.”
He shrugged your hand off his shoulder with a hiss. “Fucking hell.”
Don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t cry.
“Please don’t move; I don’t want you to hurt yourself.” You couldn’t hide the way your voice broke.
He looked up at you, then, through bloodshot blue eyes. You wished you knew what was going through his head. Happy or sad?
“Am I dead?”
“No,” you smiled weakly as a tear fell.
“Can I have a smoke then?”
-
“I don’t know how to love, Tommy!”
“Yeah? Yeah? That’s bullshit! Why do you keep coming back then?” He pinched your chin, glaring furiously into your eyes. “Eh?”
He stood so close that he blocked the light from the chandelier, which mournfully hung from the ceiling. You shivered in his shadow.
“I shouldn’t have come tonight.”
“But you did!” He accused, pointing in your face.
“It was a mista—”
“You fucking did!”
“Tommy!”
“I’ve had it! If you want to leave, then fucking leave; otherwise, don’t stand there all righteous waving empty threats over my head because I know you won’t leave.” He shook his head with a wild look in his eye. “No… You won’t leave. You won’t leave because you love me. You keep coming back,” he pointed matter-of-factly.
Tommy’s eyebrows danced between being terribly furrowed and alarmingly raised during his passionate monologue. It was rare for him to emit so much emotion these days. The war changed men, and Tommy was no exception. A chilling stillness framed his presence, which even you weren’t excused from. No more laughter, no more dreams of working with horses, because he was above all that now, wasn’t he? It was ambition that ground his teeth together and hollowed his eyes. Still, you couldn’t forget that the anger came from vulnerability, because it took a lot for someone to get under Thomas Shelby’s skin.
You moved to grab your purse, to make good on his word, but he halted your movement by grabbing your shoulders, roughly at first, before loosening his grip. You softened at his frantic demeanor. He was scared—oh, so afraid of you walking out that door again. But how could you ever explain it to him? You were never born for love. You would never know how to love him properly the way wives were supposed to because what you felt for Tommy was sickeningly deep. So much so that the mere impression of him sealed off your ribcage and ruined any chance of your heart beating for any other soul, so much so that you carried the weight of him in your bones because you could never shake him off.
When you looked back at life, all you saw was the absence of love. You used to imagine yourself growing up and falling in love with a handsome stranger, then getting married in a proper white dress to go live in your proper house. But when you looked in the mirror, you saw a ghost. The pathway of your life was laid out before your eyes once, and what you saw didn’t match the reflection. The man you were supposed to marry couldn’t even look at you, even if you cleaned and cleaned and cleaned until your fingerprints turned white and pasty.
Because what it all came down to was simple. You never got to become the person you envisioned. Instead, you were cursed to live as a blank slate and be consistently reminded of what you were supposed to be and of who you were: no one.
Tommy exhaled in a quick huff, pressing his forehead to yours so that he saw you clearer, without all the tension and bullshit in the way.
“Here it comes, Tommy.” You took a shaky breath. “I love you, but I could never be the perfect wife to you, and I would be a terrible mother.”
There, in all its ugly colors and shades, you hung yourself with the truth.
He shook his head as if he too couldn’t believe your words.
“Fuck’s sake! Forget about all that." His eyes watered out of frustration, but he was still puffing in anger. “I need you. You. Not some whore.”
You bit your lip to muffle the god-forsaken cry ready to erupt from the volcanoes you suddenly found roaring in your stomach. An earthquake overtook your hands the more you fought the inevitable eruption. You grabbed both his hands to stop yours from shaking.
“I have to be cursed; there’s no other way!”
“No!”
“My life slips through my fingers like grains of sand—”
“You’re not cursed!”
“And I can’t stop it, Tommy!”
“You’re not fucking cursed, and I’ll tell you why." Tommy cut you off. He leaned in, licking his lips, which had turned dry from all the shouting, and squeezed your hands. “Because my ancestors charmed dogs with their magic, they didn’t scare little girls with curses,” he paused. “But you… You waved a hand over my head, and now I’m no better than a dog.”
He closed the space between you, pressing his forehead against yours, and stroked both your cheeks, wiping at your tears. You held him there in a meek attempt at reciprocation.
You wished the world were ending so then you could grab Tommy’s hand and say, ‘I’m ready, Tom. The world is ending, so let’s kiss and love each other under the flames without any fear because the world is ending.’
But you were never good at expressing yourself with words, so you sealed it with a kiss, hoping he could taste the unspoken words on your lips the same way you tasted the tears. He responded in earnest, gripping you roughly by the scruff of your neck to seal the promise laden between your lips; no more running.
-
It was just your luck that you would bump into your ex-fiancé, William, while visiting a bar in London with Ada. You were buzzing from the warmth of three sweet liquors and whatever else Ada insisted you try, and everything was starting to seem a little funny by the time he approached you.
He engaged in pleasantries, swishing his wine around the glass and sniffing it occasionally, like many pompous older men tended to do. There was only so much smiling you could afford before you caught your reflection in the freshly wiped bar and realized how poorly your acting skills were. Ada was no help, muttering something about finding a phonebooth and then slipping into the belated and boozed crowd. It was then that the supposed nectar in your glass began to taste like the cleaning products—that nose-scrunching stench. Thankfully, William was too involved in some tangent to notice you muffle a gag into your palm.
The dazzling hum in your ears muffled out all his words. In your drunken state, William appeared to be more confident than what you remembered, but you were unable to decipher whether it was from a change of heart or if he was trying to fall back in your good graces. Otherwise, you were blinded by the roaring bustle of the bar and the delicious swell of music that seemed to reverberate across your being.
Growing a little bored with William’s story, your attention wandered over his shoulder, still being sure to nod every now and then as if you were deeply pondering his words. Not far away from his side, a man seemed to linger—a man who was careful not to reach your eye. You must have laughed a little harder than usual because William turned sharply to the man at his side, gave him a quick once-over, then returned his attention to you, but by then it was too late, and you knew exactly what William’s relationship was with this man and where William’s confidence had come from.
“You’ll make a fine wife and a finer mother someday,” William quickly added.
You cursed the witch inside you, who laughed from her stomach and used his shoulder to steady herself. Once upon a time, that was all you longed to hear, but now, with a half-spilt martini in hand, you couldn’t care less. Both of you had found happiness despite your unconventional circumstances, and there was no more to it. You could close that chapter without any loose threads.
A little drunk, you thanked him, disappeared, and never thought of him again.
-
“I can’t do it, Ada,” you stressed, beginning to feel uncomfortable with the baby in your arms.
Motherhood came rumbling into your life like a rusty engine spitting out oil. ‘Instinctual’, the mothers down the lane from Arrow House had said, ‘it’s like your body has been preparing for it your whole life.’ How awful, you thought, and by the time one of them finished speaking about their experience with their first, your nose was so scrunched in disgust that you would need an iron to flatten out the wrinkles. It wasn’t until now that you longed to be in their shoes, because nothing came naturally to you.
“He’ll latch eventually; he’s just a little fussy,” Ada reassured.
“Is it supposed to hurt?”
“It’s perfectly normal.”
Then, after an hour of rubbing your sons back on the verge of tears, he finally began feeding from you. Ada soothed your back the whole time and cooed softly to calm both you and your unruly boy. Sometimes she brought Karl. He would obediently sit on her lap, playing with his wooden horse, while your little Charles fussed.
One time in the early morning, when you were up attempting to feed Charles, Tommy rushed in alert with disheveled hair and sunken eyes.
“Sorry,” you mouthed, deflated your hardworking husband had been disturbed from his sleep.
He ran his hands over his face and sighed. You mistook his action for frustration and desperately tried to hush your baby. Tommy moved over to the rocking chair where you sat, trying to feed little Charles in your arms.
“Don’t be sorry,” he whispered into the crook of your neck. “How is he?”
You flushed under the moonlight, suddenly embarrassed that your husband had caught you in this vulnerable position with the top of your slip peeled down. Your exposed skin hissed when he pressed a kiss against your pulse.
“I don’t think he likes me very much.”
Tommy inhaled sharply against your neck before resting his chin on your shoulder to peer down at Charles. Charles had settled since Tommy walked into the room, acutely aware of his father as his little hands made a grabbing motion for him. Diligently, Tommy relieved your arms of Charles and cradled him close to his chest. Within minutes, the little baby was gurgling happily and blinking in a way that suggested sleep was on the horizon after all.
Your husband didn’t dare make any sudden noise as he gently set Charles in his cradle. Once he was surely asleep, Tommy guided you up from the rocking chair and into your shared bedroom.
“See?” you hissed, still maintaining a soft voice, “he only wants you.”
Tommy wouldn’t hear any of it, pulling you into his arms as he sat on the edge of the mattress. Your slip was still pooled around your hips, so he took the opportunity to plant a kiss above your breasts, where your heart was.
“He loves you,” he drawled in that husky voice of his. “I know he does because I do.”
Your head ached, but you couldn’t help the way your body reacted to his words and touch. Tommy’s wandering hands teased the silk fabric that clung to your hips as you felt his nose trail down to your breast, where he kissed one of your aching nipples delicately. Suddenly hot, you hummed in delight, the back of his shorn scalp pleasant beneath your nails. A grunt, bathed in that musk of his devours your senses. Inhaling sharply, he took the bud between his full lips, sucking, licking, and nibbling gently while his hands explored further down. Your head lulled back from the pleasure, gasping and withering under his skilled tongue.
The next thing you knew, Tommy was tugging the rest of your silk slip off and reminding you of just how much he loved you.
-
“Charles! Come here!” Tommy called.
Your little boy loved to play in the backyard of Arrow House. Much like his father, Charles adored horses. Big ones, small ones, black ones, white ones—but most of all, he favored his Shetland pony. Tommy had brought it for Charles before he could even walk. He said something about it being important for his son to be raised around horses from a young age. And while you didn’t necessarily disagree, it still stressed you out to hold your baby so close to such a large, muscular animal. You knew the Arabian breeds spooked easily, so you steered clear of them and were able to keep Tommy and Charles happy.
But now he had grown up so fast and was able to run around on his own two legs, climb trees, and bruise his knees on the way down. The sun beat lovingly on the apples of his cheeks as he dirtied his trousers, kneeling by the fence to feed his Shetland (affectionately named Biscuit) hand-picked grass through the gaps.
“Charles! We’re leaving!” You called when he ignored his father.
Stubbornly, Charles spun around to pout his lip and cross his arms. He glared at you as threateningly as a five-year-old could. You bit your lip to hide your smile because he really did look like a little Tommy with those big blue eyes. It would only be a matter of time before he perfected his father’s stare. With a sigh, you shifted your daughter into Tommy’s arms before approaching Charles, who was picking angrily at the grass.
You reached a hand out toward him, "let's go.”
“No!”
“All right,” you said decisively, spinning around, “Ruby will have all the fun then.”
“No!” cried your little boy.
You stuck a hand up in surrender and started walking back to Tommy. “No, it’s all right.”
“No, no no no!” Came his protest, chasing behind you as the gravel crunched beneath his boots.
You paid no attention to him, keeping your eyes trained ahead, silently relieved that your ploy worked. Tommy watched on in amusement while Ruby suckled on her thumb, curiously watching her brother storm closer.
“You hear that, Ruby? We’re going to spoil you,” a short smile played on Tommy’s face as he adjusted her so that she sat comfortably on his hip.
“And me!” Charles added and gave his best pout.
“No, Charles, you said you didn’t want to go,” you reminded him, raising your eyebrows.
“I do! I do!”
“Hmm,” you thought aloud, and held a finger to your chin while looking to the sky in exaggerated contemplation. “Very well, but only if you get in daddy’s car right this instant.”
He climbed into the backseat of the Bentley without further fuss.
When all the bags were neatly packed in the back for the day’s festivities, Tommy came around your side to sit Ruby on your lap. Quickly, he leaned in to kiss you and pinch your cheek, which swelled into a glowing grin.
He smiled back and whispered low enough for only you to hear, “got him wrapped around your finger, eh?”
You laughed. “Him and a few other Shelby’s I know of.”
-
The thundering sound of music could be heard from outside the theater on the corner of Old Pauls. Inside, patrons mused between champagne, dancing, and making a display of their wealth by bidding on little trinkets. It was one of the many charity galas Tommy had to attend because of his new move into politics. Usually, you enjoyed dressing for those sorts of things, but tonight you simply weren’t feeling up to it. Maybe it was the drape of your dress not sitting right or the new leather shoes that still needed breaking in.
Your shimmering smile faded into the crowd as you snuck through the back door in your satin bordeaux dress. Old Pauls sat perched above the cemetery it was named after. Conveniently across the street from the buzz of the theater, it was airily quiet and stuck out from the rest of industrial Birmingham. Your heels clacked across the pavement as you wandered up and down the garden, glimpsing at stone angels and silver plaques. All you had to light your path were the streetlights and the moon.
Your diamond wedding ring twinkled under the stars as you stopped to trace a name. It was the same as your mother's, but with a different last name. Still, you always wondered what happened to her. Had she gotten married to another man and taken his name? You expected to shiver at the idea, but you found that thinking of her no longer unnerved you. She packed up the title of mother when she left you all alone in that cramped house.
Light spilled out onto the pavement across the street when the entrance to the theater swung open. A few men flew down the steps and split off in different directions. Thinking it odd, you remained crouched until they disappeared around their respective corners. That’s when you saw Tommy exit through the same doors, throwing a cigarette and wiping at his brow while he looked up and down the street. Quickly, you stood and waved your arm to get his attention. When he noticed, he stormed down the steps and stalked across the street and through the gates of Old Pauls over to you.
“I needed some air,” you spoke up before he could get a word in.
His eyes wildly flickered back and forth from yours in a frenzy. Under the moonlight, they looked almost translucent, and, save for a ghost of blue, his pupils were wide.
“Why the bloody hell are you out here, eh?” He demanded, gently shaking your head between his hands for emphasis while his eyebrows rose expectantly.
“It’s quieter.”
When he tilted his head to the sky and exhaled, your stomach dropped at the sight of blood. Your ears, which had been tuning out the music, flinched when a shrill cry from a woman rang out the theater doors. The music was gone, now replaced with screams as all the patrons rushed out, tripping over each other like it were a race. You turned back to Tommy, now as worried as the others.
“What the hell happened? Are you hurt?” You urged, gripping his white collar, now red, to inspect where the blood was coming from.
“Not mine,” he cleared his throat, grabbing the hand on his collar to tug you down the street.
The frame of your world stretched a little wider, like light pouring in through open shutters. Car doors slammed, and drivers honked at the agitated crowd who ran this way and that across the road.
“Where’s the fucking ambulance?” Shouted a man who took no care to avoid bumping into you.
You stumbled back, your hand slipping from Tommy’s on impact. Rage flickered across his features briefly, having noticed the man push through you, but he reconnected your hands and continued walking fast. When he reached the Bentley, he urged you inside, holding your hand the whole way until you were seated in the passenger seat.
“What the hell happened, Tommy?” You repeated as he slid into the driver’s seat.
“Someone got shot.”
Your eyes widened. “Are Polly and—”
“They’re fine.”
You sank back into your seat as the engine roared to life. Peaky Blinder’s followed the frenzied crowd, moving together like a pack of wolves onto the streets. They only parted to let Tommy’s Bentley through. Out the window, people were fighting and throwing fists as they all tried to escape the mayhem.
“Why aren’t they letting people through?” You asked after witnessing a Peaky Blinder block the road and refuse to let a car pass.
“Doesn’t matter.”
He never told you anything when it came to business. And although you suspected this was much more than the doing of the Shelby brothers, Tommy’s face never betrayed him. Simply put, if he didn’t want you to know, you wouldn’t.
“Would anyone want to follow us?”
“No.” He exhaled deeply, cleared his throat, and then reached to give your thigh a squeeze.
You knew it was a lie when his eyebrows rose. He only did that when he was worried. Your tongue remained pressed to the back of your teeth the entire ride home.
-
The howl of the wind whistled down into the valley of the gypsy camp Tommy had brought you and the children to.
“Pack your things,” he had said one night after storming through the front door of Arrow House, “we’re going on a trip.”
Charles and Ruby cheered, but you suspected something sinister beneath his intentions.
So, there you were, picking at the grass by your feet while you perched on the bottom step of the gypsy wagon Tommy parked beneath a tree for shade. He kept quiet for most of the ride, absorbed in leading the horse around loose gravel and stones, or rather, he led you to believe he was lost in concentration. Because, when it came down to it, you knew Tommy better than to assume nothing was wrong.
The past week, he had been acting different, jumpy even. He ran into the nursery during the early hours of the morning on edge, as if expecting something to be amiss. You tried interrogating him, but he brushed it off, insisting things were fine. Fine—you began detesting that word. Fine this, fine that, but if things were really fine, then why was he on edge?
Then came the bloodshot eyes and the slamming of his desk drawer when you entered the office. Only this time he couldn’t deny the unmistakable jingle of a bullet, which rattled in the wooden compartment like some sort of airy death chime.
A black hand. One for each Shelby. And since you were now one too, that meant neither you nor the children were subjected to any special treatment. A week, he said, a week for his family to clear up the business while he stayed here watching over you like a shepherd to his flock.
And watched he did, standing next to where you sat, he found peace observing Charles and Ruby as they chased each other around the overgrown field. There he remained for an hour or so, frighteningly still, the only motion being his sharp jaw chewing on a mint leaf, somewhat reminiscent of the soldier in your tent all those years ago. Next to him, tied to the tree, the black steed filled the silence with snorts and grazed favorably on the loose roots and grass patches.
“Ruby was crying this morning. She’s scared, Tom." You sighed.
Tommy hadn’t been there when you woke up that morning in the caravan. He returned shortly after, ominous as ever, just as Ruby had begun to settle.
He tossed the stalk of his mint leaf into the grass and offered you his hand. You looked up at him in question for a moment, slightly suspicious of his intentions. Nevertheless, you slid your hand into his, and he stood you up, sat down on the higher step, and pulled you between his legs to sit on the lower step. He hugged you from behind as he slouched to rest his head on your shoulder, then exhaled deeply.
“We will be home soon,” he whispered in your ear, brushing your knuckles tenderly.
“For how long? Until we get another bullet in the post?”
Tommy’s throbbing forehead found solace in the warmth of your neck.
“You’ve never been one to run,” you continued, “what’s bothering you? We took a vow that we would share everything.”
He nuzzled his nose deeper into your pulse.
Frustrated, you tried to get up, but he held you firmly against his chest.
“Italians.”
“Italians?”
“Italians sent the black hands.”
You waited in silence for more information, but more did not come.
“Speak to me, Thomas.”
“I don’t want you any more involved than you are.”
“They’ve sent death knocking on our door; how more involved could I be?”
Tommy moved methodically, licking his lips and clearing his throat. He squinted his eyes up at the glaring sun.
“It’s nothing you should be concerned about. I’ll keep us safe.”
“Nothing I should be concerned over, Thomas? Just how many people are we at war with?”
He didn’t answer, so you turned your head away from him. Charles and Ruby had since settled by a patch of flowers. Charles was crouched over, helping his sister gather all the yellow flowers for her yellow dress.
The tension broke the surface then.
“Why are you still fighting, Tom? Is this,” you nod to your children and breathe in the fresh air, “not enough?”
You pictured Arrow House and its lavish garden, one to compete with all the wealthy families down the lane. You thought of Arthur, John, Polly, Ada, and all his family that lived to see his success. Everything, from the thoroughbreds in the stable to the fancy cars. The money itself was a testimony to his drive. What more could the gangster of Birmingham want when he already had everything?
You had gone and worked yourself up now because the world seemed blurrier than before.
Tommy, still on his guard, guided your chin to your shoulder so he could kiss the tears away. “It is enough.”
“Then make it enough. You’re respectable now, so stop the fighting.” Your voice broke at the end.
He hung his forehead on your shoulder. Like a flower sheltered away from the sun, Tommy wilted when he was away from his business. Usually, you were a strong enough light to keep him going, but whatever business he had gotten himself into was poisoning him, and ever the addicted flower, he kept running out to the fields, continuing to drink in the sunlight until it was too much and turned his leaves brow. Because business was what occupied his mind day and night, he was unable to turn the cogs of the engine off and let the air out of the tires.
A hand brushes your hair away to kiss the spot beneath your ear, airing out the destructive thoughts.
God, you loved him anyway. An overpowering feeling that ruled over calculating minds like Tommy’s and faint hearts like yours. You were no better than him—both addicted to a little sunlight.
-
The framed photographs on the wall shook as your third-eldest slammed the door to her room closed.
“I hate you!” She cried from the other side.
Your husband, Tommy, sighed to the ceiling, then stalked past you to his study, no longer interested in anything your daughter had to say. They had been at it for the last ten minutes arguing over some boy she was seeing, and your ears were just about ringing having witnessed it from the sidelines. You were left there in the hallway, an unwilling participant in the unspoken feud between father and daughter, and you understood that whoever you went to console would take it that you were siding with them, even though you just wanted to keep your family together.
Going to your daughter was the instinctive answer, but you knew she needed time to cool off. Tommy was the only reasonable choice.
You knocked on the door to his office before letting yourself in.
“Come to lick my wounds, eh?” He mused while smoking a cigarette.
Your lips wormed into a thin line. “This needs to stop, Tom.”
“Yeah,” he said, tapping the ash into his tray, “it will fucking stop.” He points with his cigarette, “I’ll make it fucking stop.”
You sighed. “You know that’s not what I meant.”
The chair screeched as he stood. “I’m her father, and if I say she can’t see that boy, she can’t. It’s only a childish fling; she’ll get over it.”
He poured a whiskey and downed it by the time you walked around his desk so that you were face-to-face with him.
“They’re in love, Tommy.”
“Yeah?” He scoffed. “Well, that can be undone.”
You held his glare, a challenge lighting in your own. “So easily, you think?”
He paused mid-drag, catching onto the underlying meaning in your words. “No,” he said, setting the cigarette down in the ash tray and grabbing your shoulders. “Don’t act like that.”
“Act like what?”
“Like you’re threatening our love over some fucking boy that’s charmed our daughter. They’re too young.”
“He’s sweet.”
“Oh, sweet and nice, I’m sure. But he’ll have no place in this house.”
“Why?”
“Why? Because I fucking said so!” He spat.
“Don’t yell at me.”
“Or what? You’ll leave me?” He huffed in amusement. “You won't; you love me too much.”
“You’re so certain?”
He paused for a moment and stared at you as if he couldn’t believe what you had said.
“Yeah, because we still fuck like two people who love each other, eh? And you’ve not told me no before, so if the day comes and your body no longer wants mine, then I’ll be worried. But until then, don’t test me with empty threats." His face hardened.
He knew you like the back of his hand. All bark, no bite. You loved him inexplicably, even after all these years, gray hairs and all. His face, body, and soul nourished you until you were satiated and full. And even if his eyebrows furrowed at times, you were willing to bet that it was for aesthetic, a shapely shadow gathered over the years from being the stoic leader the Peaky Blinders and Shelby family needed. How could you fault him for it?
Because, at the end of the day, you were a team. Even if he played the role of an overprotective father a bit too convincingly, he only ever wanted what was good for your daughter. Everything he worked for, ultimately, was for his family. A family man. And that came with its virtues and vices because, despite what Tommy thought, he wasn’t perfect; no one was.
Shrinking under his hands, you breathed a sigh and appeased him. “End this feud, Tom. Find peace with her. I don’t care what you do, but by the end of it, I expect to be able to sit down at the dinner table without having to beg my husband and daughter to look up from their plates.” You stroked his hands, which held your shoulders, and finally blinked up at him.
A haze of softness swept across his glare and melted the glaciers to a thin sheen of blue. The seams of exhaustion frayed one by one through his muscles. He nodded, licked his lips, and leaned down for a kiss of absolution. Not entirely prepared to surrender, you tilted your head so that he found the corner of your mouth instead.
“It will be done, love.” He brushed the apples of your cheeks tenderly. “And by tonight,” his voice lowered, “I promise you’ll forget all about it.”
Only then did you accept his kiss, eager to put the grievance to rest. Tommy, on the other hand, had other plans and stepped forward so that you were pinned between his desk and hips. He quickly began to gather your skirts above your waist, but you pulled away just as fast at the hiss of air against your exposed skin. An unsolicited gasp escaped his mouth when your knee brushed him there, and you sucked your bottom lip between your teeth, looking deep into his eyes.
“Promise me you won’t break her heart. She might not be old enough now, but I don’t want you to put her off love forever,” you caressed his jaw.
“No,” he agreed, breathier than usual, flexing the hands that were still caught up in the fabric of your skirt.
“And our Daisy may never say it, but I know she loves you dearly. So please, Tom, be gentle with her. I don’t want her to grow up despising you. Tell her you love her, kiss her forehead, hug her.”
He deflated, and you watched him swallow his pride. Cogs turned against the sweltering lust, threatening to deplete the clever thoughts in that powerful head of his in favor of your careful touch. Please, please, please, you begged without uttering a word; agree with me on this, Tom.
Tommy leaned back down to rest his forehead on yours; his face gave nothing away. You were sure he had found something to say, which would make you feel like a fool for asking. However, when you embraced those faint subtleties of emotion flickering across his face like candlelight, so miniscule you might blink and miss it, you found nothing of the sort to suggest any hostile nature. Because Tommy loved you.
“I will.”
-
A/N: Tried doing a long one shot, what does everyone think? Yay or nay? Comment to be added to the tag list!
Taglist: @maliceofwonderland , @fairytale07 , @goblinjnr , @ilovepeoplesdads , @multidimensionalslut
#tommy shelby x reader#tommy shelby#thomas shelby#cillian murphy#thomas shelby x reader#cillian murphy x reader#tommy shelby x you#thomas shelby x you#tommy shelby smut#thomas shelby smut#tommy shelby fanfic#thomas shelby imagine#tommy shelby imagine#peaky blinders#peaky blinders x reader#peaky blinders imagine#peaky blinders fanfic#peaky blinders fanfiction#tommy shelby fanfiction#thomas shelby fanfic#cillian murphy fanfiction#cillian x reader#cillian x fem!reader
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Kinktober 2023 - Day 5
Caught Masturbating with Tommy Shelby
"Caught In The Act"
Smut - Explicit content - NSFW - 18+ only!
Summary: Tommy has somehow fallen through time & made a new life in the modern day with you. He wants more than friendship & an awkward encounter makes you confront that idea.
Warnings: Smut (NSFW) - 18+ ONLY - masturbation, voyeurism, sex toys, dirty talk, swearing, pet names, hair pulling, creampie, vaginal sex, very light dom/sub, a little bit of fluff
Tommy wasn't quite sure what to expect when he opened the door to your small apartment and immediately heard the sound of your voice moaning and whimpering. He immediately went to reach for his weapon, suddenly remembering that he was unarmed. He was still getting used to living in this new century and the fact that he no longer had a reason to be armed.
It was all still a mystery as to how he ended up here. He had no idea how he had taken one breath in 1930 and the next in 2023. Neither did you, but that didn't stop you from helping him. Even though to pretty much anyone else, his story made him sound utterly certifiable. Instead of judging or turning and running the other way, you were kind and caring.
He slowly began approaching your bedroom, and the sound of your voice became louder. The closer he got, the clearer it became that your whimpers were not of pain or fear but of pleasure. He had dreamt about hearing you make sounds like that since the moment he first met you.
You had been so sweet to him since he ended up here. You showed him kindness in a way he was completely unused to. Allowing him to stay in your spare room and helping him learn to navigate the modern world. He had become quite smitten with you, actually. You had given him the chance of a fresh start. A chance he was determined to seize.
You also weren't afraid of him. You would talk back to him and call him on his bullshit. Your modern feminism serving you quite well when mixed with your sharp wit. He hated to admit that it gave him butterflies when you laughed openly in his face about doing some chore he always thought to be 'woman's work'. He knew damn well you wouldn't be serving him anytime soon, and frankly, he found your demeanor refreshing.
You were also stunningly beautiful. In a way that was all your own. Tommy Shelby was well accustomed to interacting with and even seducing attractive women. He had been married to two beautiful women. Both Grace and Lizzie were enchanting, but you were a creature from another world entirely.
All of these things had him utterly spellbound by you. He'd be lying if he said he didn't spend his evenings imagining what it would be like to be yours and for you to be his. He had a suspicion that underneath your sweet exterior was a devil waiting to come out at the most intimate times. He wanted to be the one to unleash it.
He often thought about you sneaking in to join him in the shower after you overheard him stroking himself. Picturing you dropping to your knees in front of him. Staring up at him through your eyelashes. Water droplets starting to roll down your body, your nipples pebbled and at attention from the temperature change. Wanting to help take care of him, since you knew that it was because of you that his cock was throbbing.
It was because of all the fantasies he had about you that he kept walking towards your door. Stopping only momentarily when he saw your door was cracked open. Your voice was now crystal clear as you whined and moaned, but now he could also hear a soft buzzing and a wet sound. There was now no doubt in his mind exactly what you were doing. You were masturbating.
His suit pants tightening at just the thought that he was catching you playing with yourself. He really was trying to turn over a new leaf. To be a better, more respectable man than he had been. He knew that peeking through your open door was the wrong thing to do, but he just couldn't help himself. Not when he was still a devil at heart, and you sounded so angelic.
What he saw when he looked through the cracked door was immediately worth any guilt he may have felt. It was by far the most erotic thing he had ever seen in his entire life. You were naked from the waist down with the t-shirt you had slept in rucked up to expose your breasts. Up on your knees with your face turned to the side and your shoulders pressed down into the mattress, your ass up in the air. Your eyes squeezed shut, and your mouth dropped open. Your hair dishelved and a little sweaty. Both of your hands busy between your legs.
In his time vibrators and other sex toys were uncommon. Really, they were just being invented. So seeing you with a vibrator in one hand pressed to your clit, and a big fake cock in your other hand greedily ramming it in and out of your tight little hole was nearly enough to have him cumming on the spot. You were taking what you wanted, what you needed, and doing it with zero shame or hesitation.
He could see the dildo glistening with your slick everytime you pulled it out of your cunt. Judging from the ring of white cream around the base of it, you must have already been fucking yourself for a while. His hand was already moving to palm himself over the fabric of his pants. Gripping his length and wishing his cock was that toy stretching your pussy. Biting his lip to keep from groaning and giving away his presence.
All that went out the window, however, when you started to moan again. Clearly getting closer and closer to another orgasm. Your hips thrusting to meet the toy and the wet squelch of your cunt getting louder. As you chased your climax you started to speak. Letting the fantasy in your head spur you closer to cumming. It was what you said that sent Tommy spiraling further into his own lust alongside you.
His name. You said his name.
"Oh fuck, yes Tommy. Right there. Fuck! You feel so good. Need you to make me cum again."
You said his name while you were fucking yourself with your toy. You were imagining your toy was his cock. You wanted him just as badly as he wanted you. No, you said you needed him. Needed, not just wanted him.
He felt his member pulse and leak at your admission. Before he even realized what he was doing, he brought one hand up to rap lightly against your doorframe. Officially announcing his presence before moving to open the door wider. It didn't leave you any less startled by the sudden intrusion at such a private moment.
He couldn't help the smirk that formed on his face as you scrambled to cover yourself. Pulling your shirt back down to hide your breasts and grabbing at the covers to conceal the mess between your thighs. Quickly trying to stash your toys under your pillow. Not that he couldn't hear the wet suction of your cunt desperately trying to hold onto the dildo as you pulled it out. Or your vibrator still buzzing under the pillow that you were now pretending you didn't hear. Not that you didn't look like you had spent the day fucking yourself silly anyway.
He slowly entered your room. Fully aware of the tent in his pants. Knowing that it gave away the fact that he had been eavesdropping on you. His smirk turned into a grin as he saw you notice his erection. Involuntarily licking your lips. Obviously, still in need of satiating your desires despite your embarrassed blush.
"Tommy, I thought you had gone out. How… how long have you been home? … how long have you been standing at my door?"
His eyes dropped to the floor momentarily, debating how to answer in a way that wouldn't make you think he was a creep. Even though you both clearly desired the same thing. Now he had discovered that he could give it to you, but only if he played his hand diplomatically.
"I did go out, but then I came back. Decided that I enjoyed your company far more than anyone else I could have run into. As far as your other questions… I was worried when I came back and heard you moaning. I thought maybe you had fallen, but I was obviously very mistaken. You are definitely not hurt, but you do seem to be in need of help. Help that you seem to want me to offer, and it would be remiss of me not to tell you that I desperately want to provide that help. That I think about you at night and wish I could be in your bed instead of my own. That I daydream about fucking you on every surface of this apartment."
By now, your mouth had fallen open at his admission. Clearly, you hadn't been expecting him to confess all this. He confidently strode closer to your bed, bringing himself to stand right at the edge of the side where you sat. Your eyes roaming his body before eventually falling back to his bulge before quickly jumping back up to his blue eyes.
"Now, my beautiful girl, I heard you call out my name before. Pretending that toy that you're hiding was my cock. I'd be surprised if you haven't heard me calling out your name as I fuck my own fist. Pretending I'm fucking your pretty little cunt instead. So I think it's safe to say we both want the same things, but I'll ask anyway. Do you want me like I want you?"
Tommy moved to sit himself down on the bed in front of you. Bringing one hand up to your cheek and letting his thumb pull lightly on your bottom lip. He could see the lust in your eyes, and you quickly nodded your head. Whispering a soft breathy "yes" that made him smile wider because now he knew he could really have you.
He brought his other hand to your waist and slowly brought his plush lips to yours. The kiss began soft and tender, but before long, it started to become more heated. Both of you starting to feel the need to finally feel each other grow.
Tommy carefully lowered you down to lay on the bed. Throwing the covers off of your legs so he could run his hands over the soft flesh of your thighs. One of your hands moving to the longer pieces of his hair and the other starting to toy with the buttons on his crisp white shirt. He still insisted on wearing a suit nearly every day, and you were thankful he had apparently already ditched his waistcoat and jacket before he heard you.
One by one, you undid the buttons on his shirt. Opening just enough that you could slip your hand inside and feel his bare chest. Your fingers dancing over his dusting of light brown chest hair and the edges of his tattoo. You wanted to rip his clothes off and let him take you. To let him bring your fantasies to life, but you knew that before you lost all sense of self-control, you needed to figure out what exactly this was. So you lightly pushed him back far enough to separate your lips from his. Enough to look into his mesmerizing blue eyes.
"Wait, Tommy, hold on. I'm not the person that just fucks people. I'm not good at the no strings attached thing. If that's what you want this to be then we are better off just finishing this each by ourselves. Pretending neither of us ever saw or said anything."
He chuckled at your statement. Not because it was funny, but in disbelief. Could you really not tell the spell you had him under? Did you really think he would spend so much time thinking about you if he only wanted you for a night?
"Oh no, princess, we do this it means you are mine. It means you are mine, and I am yours. Like I said, I want to fuck you and love you on and against every surface of this apartment. That will take far longer than one night. We do this, there is no getting rid of me."
With that, he forcefully crashed his lips into yours, desperately trying to convey how badly he truly wanted you. The feeling of your fingernails gripping into his back through his shirt only spurring him on. Like squeezing your heels into the sides of a horse, your actions only making him move faster.
He reached down to pull your leg up over his hip as he continued to kiss you. Moving down to suck and bite at your neck as he ground his pelvis down against you. Automatically, he could feel the heat from your sex through the fabric of his pants and boxers. Reminding him again of how he had found you. How you were still soaked and ready for him.
A growl fell from his lips as he bit your neck when the sensation of your slick started to soak through to his cock. Rutting his hips into you harder and pulling the most beautiful gasp from you that turned into a wanton moan. Suddenly any trepidation you had been feeling had fled and your animal urges took over.
You immediately brought both hands to his shirt and proceeded to rip it open. Sending buttons scattering before shoving it back off of his shoulders so Tommy could discard it. He moved on to his pants just as quickly. Getting the button and zipper undone while he took off his undershirt.
You were just able to shove his pants down to his knees when he pushed you back flat on the bed. Quickly taking off his slacks, leaving him in just his boxers before returning all his attention to you. Slowly dragging his hands up the outsides of your thighs to start pulling your shirt up your body. His eyes studying each new inch of flesh revealed to him.
When your shirt was finally high enough to reveal the treasure hidden between your thighs, you thought Tommy might actually start to drool. You were soaked, and your thighs were messy with your arousal. Your clit was swollen and puffy from your vibrator. Your lips flushed and your hole was still gaping slightly from where you had your dildo buried inside of you. The only thing missing from the picture was the sight of his cum leaking out of you. That would have made it perfect.
"Fucking perfect."
He whispered under his breath before diving down to pepper your stomach with kisses. Biting at your hip bones and stealing a single taste of your cunt before continuing upward. He knew he would be back with his head between your legs later that night. Right now he couldn't wait to be inside you, but he had to finish getting you naked first.
His lips danced over your soft stomach, and his teeth nipped at your ribcage. Nuzzling his nose at the bottom of your breasts as he started to pull your shirt up over them. Keeping his face close to your skin and reveling in your sweet noises. Adoring every part of your body. Smiling against your skin when you finished pulling your shirt off and threw it to the side. Your body finally completely bare for him.
You were getting impatient with his slow pace. As much as you were enjoying his touch, you had been ready for him to fuck you before he had even entered the room. You tried hard to suppress the needy moans that escaped your lips as he studied every inch of your naked body.
"You are even more beautiful than I fantasized."
As nice as his compliment felt, you were nearing the end of your rope. You needed to feel him inside you, or else you feared for your sanity.
"You've already got me in bed naked and horny, Thomas. You don't have to lay on the flattery. I'm on the pill so just hurry up and fuck me."
You reached down to grab his erection. Squeezing firmly over the fabric of his boxers before shoving your hand inside to start stroking him. Your whimpers were nearly louder than his as you felt every vein on his length and circled his tip only to find him leaking and wet for you.
Through staggered breath and the most beautiful groans and growls, he finished his thoughts. His hips started to rut into your hand as pumped his cock perfectly. He mentally thanked the advancements in birth control that he wouldn't have to wait or pull out. Although he always preferred bareback anyway, with both horses and women.
"It's not flattery if it's the truth, and it is the truth. Like I said, I've thought about this. A lot. Now, lay back on the bed for me like a good girl."
You did as he said. Pulling your hand out of his boxers and licking the precum off of your fingertips as you laid yourself out for him. Legs spread and back arched in a sinful tableau just for him. Letting him sit back on his heels and study you for a moment. His eyes devouring every inch of you.
A cocky smirk on his face, he stared right into your eyes as he pushed his boxer shorts down over his hips. His cock finally free and standing proud. Tommy wasn't sure he had ever actually been this hard before, and it was all because of you. It was all for you.
You groaned at the sight of his thick cock. It was even bigger than your toy was. Biting your bottom lip and grabbing your own breasts. Toying with your nipples as you thought about how good it was going to feel to finally have his cock inside you after all these months of wanting.
He didn't break eye contact with you as he gripped his length and gave it a few slow strokes. Using the precum dripping for his flushed red cockhead to prepare himself. Enjoying the feeling of you watching him. Especially now that you knew he spent nearly every night doing just that thinking only of you.
"Tell me what you want. Tell me what you want me to do. Just like you did with that fake cock of yours."
Tommy descended on you like a predator caging in its prey. His arms braced on either side of your head. His chest pressed to yours. His cock now shamelessly rubbing against your wet cunt. Sliding up and down against your lips and the ridge of his swollen head teasing your clit. You could hear the wet sounds coming from between you.
The most desperate noise you ever made pulled from your throat before you could answer. Right before you did exactly what he told you and begged for his cock like you had with your toy. Your eyes pleading for him to finally take you.
"Want your cock inside me, Tommy. Need you to fuck my tight little pussy and make me cum. Want to cum on your cock. Want to feel you cum inside me."
A growl came from the back of his throat. He was very pleased with how you begged for him. He lowered to nip at your bottom lip. His eyes were nearly black with only a sliver of the normal bright blue remaining.
"That's a good girl. Normally so nice and sweet and proper, but not in the bedroom, eh? I could get very used to hearing you talk like a slut for me."
He brought one hand to drag down your body. Making sure to stop and tug at your nipple before continuing its path between your bodies. Moving his cock so his fat tip sat right at your opening.
Slowly starting to push inside of you. With how wet you were, he could almost slip right in. Your warmth engulfing him and making him swear under his breath. No one had ever felt as perfect around him as you did.
"Oh my God, Tom."
You whined at the stretch of him. Even after spending so much time fucking your toy, Tommy still made you feel delightfully full. His length immediately brushing up against your g-spot that was still swollen from fucking yourself. It felt like he was made for you. His slow shallow thrusts immediately starting to push you towards orgasm, and your moans and whimpers starting to push him towards his.
"Can't believe you were holding this perfect cunt back from me this whole time. Well that's not happening anymore, love. I'm never leaving your pretty little pussy ever again."
His thrusts started to pick up pace when you greedily nodded and agreed. Pushing his hips into yours with more force as he dropped his head to bite and suck at your neck. One hand coming to dig your nails into his shoulders, and the other was moving to pull at the longer pieces of hair on the top of his head.
Your own hips starting to roll underneath him to meet his thrusts. The sound of your bare skin slapping together starting to echo around the room with the squelch of your wet cunt as an accent. Both of you already breathing heavily. The realization dawning on both of you as soon as your cunt started squeezing his shaft that this round wasn't going to take very long. Tommy could already feel little spurts of precum dripping from his cock into your cunt each time you contracted around him.
"Oh fuck, darling. I'm so close. Where do you want me to cum? Want me to fill you up princess?"
His declaration made the band start to tighten in your low belly.
"Fill me up, Tommy. Cum in my pussy, baby. I'm close too. Keep talking to me. You're gonna make me cum."
An evil smirk on his face as he gave up, trying to hold anything back. His hips starting to piston into you. The headboard of your bed beginning to bang against the wall as Tommy began pounding into you. His intense blue eyes locked with yours and his nose nuzzling against you as he spoke. Urging you on.
"That's it, love. Don't hold back. Let go for me. Fuck, you feel so incredible. Thought about this every night and it's even better than I could have imagined. Feel like this cunt was made for me. Is this my cunt? Cum on my cock and prove it to me, love. Cum for me."
All it took was his order to send you over the edge. Your back arching and a ragged moan pulled from your chest as your body began to shudder. The feel of you cumming allowing Tommy to finally let go. His last few thrusts becoming sloppy as he followed your lead into orgasmic bliss. The feeling of him shooting his warm load inside your cunt prolonging your own orgasm.
After a moment to catch your breath, Tommy leaned down to place another kiss on your lips. Less heated and hurried but no less passionate. Then he slowly pulled out of you and rolled to the side. Urging you to lift your head so he could thread one around underneath and wrap it around your shoulder. Wanting to hold you close but not wanting to smother you.
When Tommy finally broke the silence, it startled you a little. Part of you had still expected him to just get up and leave. You certainly weren't expecting him to say what he did.
"Thank you."
You couldn't help the guffaw that came from your body. Quickly elaborating before he got the wrong idea from your reaction.
"For what, fucking you?"
Luckily, he seemed to find your response funny and gave a chuckle of his own before he elaborated. His voice getting softer as he let down his armor, something he had rarely done before, and let you inside. Rolling over to face you and wrapping one atm around your middle to pull you closer to him. His aquamarine eyes were bright and clear as he looked deeply into your eyes.
"For everything. So technically yes, thank you for fucking me, but more than that thank you for everything else you've done for me. For letting me stay here despite having no idea where I was or how I got here. For trusting me when I know others told you not to. For teaching me how to navigate this world. For giving me a chance. For all of it. Thank you."
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Moon — Thomas Shelby.
— CW: 18+!, smut. breeding kink, (slight) housewife kink, mentions of kidnaping. Age gap. | word count: 1.7k. (not proofread!)
— a/n: I have no clue from where this came from. I'm not in the best mindset and this happened. This is also my first time writing for Tommy so don't hate me lol. This isn't canon compliant ig because I don't want it to be. I just want him so bad it's not even funny.
Vulnerability.
It was a word he never thought he’d truly understand the meaning of.
It was always meant to be a secret. Why? Because good things don’t last long— not for him. Never for him.
And every time he is away from you, it is a constant heartache that not even the strongest alcohol or an insane amount of tobacco could ease. He wishes he could steal the moon from the dark skies of Birmingham and hand it to you, he knows how much you love the moon. Night after night, he raises his head to stare at it for hours, wondering where are you, if you are thinking about him as much as he is thinking of you.
Wondering if you love him as much as he loves you.
Love. Such a funny word. A meaning both so full and so empty.
He wishes he could steal you.
He knows how much he loves you.
It is always better to be safe than sorry— that’s why he secluded you, and you understood. Perhaps it was the naivety granted by your young age, or maybe it was your blind love for a man who was doomed since the day he was born. Whatever it was, it kept both of your hearts attached, beating as one; watching the same moon.
He counts the days, the hours, and sometimes even the minutes; he is a smart man, he knows where you are and with whom, he knows what dress you wore and who you talked to. And he does it for love. Or even obsession. A strange urge that creeps into him every night when he thinks of you after a long day of work— an urge to be loved. He counts the days, the hours, and sometimes even the minutes until he is able to see you again. To hide under that perfect, warm blanket that is your arms, your kisses, your body.
In front of your front door, he knocks even though he knows the door is open. He has guards on every corner, eyes on every window. He already lost too many precious things in his life. He can’t afford to lose you. He built you a house, a paradise for you to enjoy, cherish and take care of. He gave you everything you could ask for, even more. Growing up, you never experienced the same deficiencies and struggles he did, you never had to lift a single finger and that’s alright for him. Because on those days when he feels powerless and exhausted, he knows he can always ride back home, and regain that power by standing next to you.
Home. Home. Home.
“Tommy!” The squeak of excitement makes the long trip worth it. Everything is worth it if it comes to you.
He hugs you, keeping you tight against his chest wishing he could stay that way forever, basking in your delicate soul, your selfless heart. Thomas calls your name in an affectionate way that no one could evoke in such a genuine way. He kisses you with such passion that makes your blood boil and your heart flutter.
“How are you feeling?” He asks, ignoring how his mind scolds him for the hint of vulnerability that laces his voice.
Placing your hands over your stomach, his body tenses at the small bump underneath your expensive, tailored dress. “We feel good, we missed you— I missed you” You reply with adoration. He is finally here.
“I’m here,” He says as if you needed confirmation that he is in fact in front of you.
“How is everyone?”
“Good” He places a large hand over your stomach, rubbing it with his palm. “Ada keeps asking me when I will bring you back to Small Heath”
“And when will that be?” Your question gives him a pang of guilt. He wishes he could have an answer, his face says it all. “It’s alright, love. I understand things are… difficult”
“Enough about that” He breathes, cupping your cheeks and forcing you to look at him. He wants the distraction, he wants the warmth, he wants you. “I’m here to see my wife, not to talk about work”
With a giggle, you kiss him. “Fine. Whatever you want”
And he loves that. He loves how willing to please you are. He loves how you let him guide you upstairs, undress you, and adore you. Thomas’ hands caress the small bump in your stomach as he carefully lifts his hips to thrust deeper, enjoying every small moan and gasp. Normally he isn’t this gentle, but he will never harm you or your baby. With his occasional grunts and pants, he grabs your thighs, increasing his pace. Watching you bounce on top of him is a heavenly sight and is in these moments when he is sure you are an angel sent from heaven from him. He might not believe in God but whatever exists in this cruel world granted him with a Goddess.
“I m–missed you” You moan digging your nails into the pale skin of his shoulders. “I missed you s–so much”
That damn wave of vulnerability washes over him, the bed creaks with your combined weight, creating a delicious, sinful melody that he evokes on those nights when he is too desperate for your body and has to find relief in his own hands.
His large hands cup your breasts, paying attention to your swollen, sensitive nipples. Thomas pinches them gently watching you tremble. He can already imagine them full and heavy, ready to take care of the baby that you are expecting— his baby. A louder groan falls down his lips at the thought. Such a wonderful mother you will be. Such a perfect, precious housewife.
Such an angel sent from heaven.
“I love how you look” He confesses in a husky fashion, bouncing your tits in his calloused palms. “I can’t wait to see you— to see you all round and heavy with my baby”
His words send a shiver down your spine, clenching around him and making Thomas hiss from the raw pleasure of your tight pussy. “Please— don’t stop”
“I wasn’t plannin’ on, doll”
Thomas dares to increase the pace, using one hand to grope your ass to keep balance. Your moans also increase in volume, igniting the primal desire to claim you inside of him. “You are so fucking tight— I will fucking pump another baby into you as soon as you have this one”
You nod fervently, closing your eyes and scratching his chest. “Yes! I’ll have as many as you want Tommy— anything you want! Anything”
The loyalty he so loves.
His lust wins over his composure for a moment, landing a sharp slap over your asscheek that makes you whine and clench again causing him to grit his teeth. He is aware of how much you adore it when he is rough with you, he thrives on the submission you gave him since day one. Unable to help himself, your husband slaps your ass repeatedly, relishing the cries of pleasure that call him like a siren to a poor, lost sailor.
“Say you are mine” He grunts after another hard slap. He isn’t going to last any longer. Not with such a breathtaking view.
“I belong to you!” You comply instantly. “I am y–yours! I’ve always been” He knows you are telling the truth. That’s why he had to take you away from your home, to manipulate you in order to give up your last name, to cast you under his spell— that’s why he had to have you since he first landed eyes on you.
But at the end of the day, he was the one wrapped around your finger.
He is the one wrapped around the velvety, soft walls of your cunt, squeezing him for dear life and silently begging him to breed you, use you, claim you…
Love you.
With a strained cry, you come around him. He could watch you unravel on top of him for hours— in fact, he has. Your movements were slow, deliberate, and intense. He could feel his breath hitch as you moved, and his heart raced as you arrived at your climax. His gaze was unwavering as he watched you ride out the waves of your pleasure. Thomas followed you seconds after, moaning your name under his breath; he fills you up just the way you both adore, it’s evident that when the hours pass, time is the only thing left to waste. Panting above him, he carefully settles you next to him, spooning you and keeping his softening cock inside of you. This is how he wants to end every day, to wake up every morning.
Kissing your sweaty neck, he breathes you in, memorizing your scent once again. He knows his time with you is limited before someone notices his absence and begins to track him. Thomas needs to be two steps ahead of anyone. Your soft giggles make him smile, a genuine smile that feels so foreign to him. Under the darkness of your bedroom, his hands caress your hot skin, providing you with the heat and care he knows you crave.
“I love you” You whisper, closing your eyes and falling asleep rather quickly. He listens to your heavy breathing, peaceful and unbothered; and that’s how he wishes it could stay forever. Away from worries, stress, fear.
“I love you, more than you can imagine” He musters, hiding his face on the crook of your neck.
It’s true. Because love is such a funny word that gives him such a funny feeling.
A warm, fuzzy feeling.
He opens his eyes, raising his head to look at the windows. The curtains are wide open, the weak glow of the full moon casting a divine glow over your naked body. His lips land on your shoulder, allowing the sensation to wash over him. It's a moment of peace and serenity, a moment in time that will never be forgotten. A moment he doesn’t want to end.
Tomorrow. Tomorrow he will bring you back where you belong. It doesn’t matter the consequences, it doesn’t matter if the whole world finds out Thomas Shelby was the one who kidnaped Jack Nelson’s younger sister. As long as he has you, he is alive.
And he swears it to the moon.
#— ✏️ anya writes!#— 🚬 thomas shelby!#thomas shelby smut#thomas shelby x y/n#thomas shelby x reader#thomas shelby x reader smut#tommy shelby x you#tommy shelby smut#tommy shelby fanfic#thomas shelby x you#cillian murphy#cillian murphy x reader#cillian murphy smut#cillian x reader#tommy shelby#tommy shelby x reader
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more dark!tommy smut!!!! 🥹❤️🙏
Yup! Wasn't so sure if you wanted the same trope as the previous fics I wrote so I tried something else. 🥰
His fookin' wife
◇ Pairing: Dark!Tommy Shelby X wife!reader
◇ Warnings: heavy DUBCON, angst, Tommy being mean and a man of that period, MISOGYNY, arranged marriage, curses and violence, age gap (both off age).
◇ Summary: Tommy reminds his wife of her place.
◇ Note: Sorry for the mistakes and the English. Honestly... I hate the way I'm writing so I will apologise for my writing as well. Hope you enjoy 🙇🏼♀️.
All his thoughts came to an end as soon as she almost reached the front door.
His big calloused hands moved on their own grabbing quickly but firmly her waist from behind, so to pull her body back and grip her thighs tighly.
A deep inhale followed his actions, making the younger woman shiver as his warm breath brushed teasingly the shell of her ear.
Different emotions kept swirling inside of Tommy, his breath became heavier as his low and seductive voice interrupted the silence in the entrance to their house. Their... since it was hers as well, as soon as he put a ring around her finger three years ago, because of an arranged marriage.
The man could feel his wife's body tensing at his touch, but it just sent a shiver down his spine. His primal instincts kicking in fast, getting into him like a bullet.
"W-What are you doing?" Y/n's weak and panicked voice asked in a whisper, making a small smirk appear on his handsome face. His tongue dared out to wet his lips before he could place them on her neck, feeling her quick pulse against them.
"What do you think I'm doing?" He purred out, inhaling her scent before continuing to speak... his voice way lower and predatory than before. "I'm not going to let you leave the house until I'm finished with you, love—"
" —Or would you rather just leave and go and talk to those Italian lads again?" He mocked, anger and jealousy clear in his tone while his grip tightened at the mere movement of hers... causing the young woman to get even more scared of what was happening.
The prospect of being intimate with her arranged husband sounded... weird to her; he never acted like that with her, just once when he was drunk. Besides that night, their honeymoon of years before had been pretty much cold and calculated, he simply prepared her before stealing her virginity with a harsh thrust and little conversation.
No love or emotions besides lust present in that moment of their life.
The panic and fear made her try to escape his grip, just wanting to leave the house already to mind her own business and not discover this more carnal side of her man. A bad idea since Tommy reacted quickly, now holding her closer against his chest, his hips pressing harder against the soft curves of her covered ass while his cock reacted positively at the situation.
"Oh no, you're not getting away that easily... There's no escaping me, darling. I'm going to keep you right here with me so there's no point in trying to free yourself." His low and threatening voice informed her before continuing after a soft growl caused by the wiggling of her body.
"I'm not going to let you leave unless I say so, and I'm going to keep you here all for myself, as your husband.... as your man."
It has been too long since he had been with his Y/n like that, and the fact that she was fighting him caused him to crave her even more. Her teasing and panicked movements were driving him crazy with lust, the way her curves kept pressing back against his front... brushing his now rock-hard cock just made the blue eyed man want to slam her against the nearest surface and take her like he was craving since a while.
Y/n was sweating cold, her heart beating crazily as her mind raced with lots of different thoughts... her body jolted again at his touch and he pressed her harshly against the cold front door of their house.
A breathy groan left the dark haired man's body as he pinned her against the wood, his hips now grinding against her ass... as his left hand held tightly her wrists together so that his free one could raise up the fabric of the dress she was wearing.
"Fucking hell, luv" Tommy cursed at the view of her exposed lower half, his hand colliding with her right ass cheek, making her whimper at the stingy sensation and whine when he knealed harshly her reddening skin.
"Missed your damn body" he added with a breathless growl, position his bulge between her legs as he pulled roughly her underwear up and leave place to his boner to rub on her butt, nudging her sacrum with each movement.
Y/n's body kept hitting softly the door as Tommy made her move with his tempo, his breath getting heavier and faster just like his thrusts.
His free hand, which had reached for her chest without success, moved now down her spine till his fingers could start to undo his belt and pants... sending a shock of fear in the young woman's body.
At the sound of the belt hitting the floor, her eyes widen and her feet moved on its own, stepping on Tommy's and catching him off guard for a couple of seconds. Allowing her to try to run away, heading quickly upstairs as he just watched her with a predatory smirk on his face... his hand picking up the belt from the ground before he rushed behind her.
"It's useless, I told you already... such a-fiesty-little-wife" Tommy spat with gritted teeth as his hand grabbed a firm hold on her ankle before pulling and making her fall down the stairs so that his body could be pin hers easily.
His broad chest now pressing against her small back as his hand pulled her hair so that her face was tilted towards him
"Don't you wanna be a good wife for your husband, luv?" The older man purred against her jaw, leaving wet kisses as his other hand traveled between her breasts to undo her dress and let easier access to her chest.
"I think we need to revise your duties as a wife and... as a woman.... my woman" Tommy spat out, before pressing her head against the moquette of the stairs, unbothered by the discomfort he was causing her by holding the soft skin of her cheek against that material.
His hold on her hair got tighter as his other hand traveled down, between her legs... moving skillfully aside her panties before thrusting one finger in while he circled roughly her clit.
His eyes closed and he groaned softly at the small thrusts of her hips cause by the jolts of pleasure he was giving her. All rubbing against his aching cock so well.
As Thomas opened his mouth again his tone was more dominating and demanding even if it was breathless
"Just like that... fuck" he cursed softly, opening his pants quickly to pull out his lenght and start grinding roughly against her lower back... his fingers still working their magic.
Y/n's whimpers and muffled cries didn't stopped his monologue after he started it. Telling her what she should have known already... how it was her duty as a wife to stay home, to keep the house in order for her husband. To listen to her husband and to be faithful to him. To support him in his business and to satisfy his needs whenever he wanted... since he was her husband.
Each point of the list was followed by a thrust of his hips and a soft groans of pleasure.
"You need to keep the home clean, to cook meals, and being faithful to your husband... you fookin'— need to look presentable and appealing at all times, making sure to be feminine and seductive for your husband whenever he wants it. Fookin' need to make sure the children are always kept up and taken care of, and you need to take— care of your husband's emotional needs as well" he continued, his groans interrupting his monologue a couple of time as he slowly approached his peak.
His cremaster muscle contracted and his jaw clenched as a soft hiss escaped his lips... his grip tightened around her hip and on her hair, making her scalp burn. Till a couple of thrusts later when he came with a low groan of her name... his cum landing on her precious dress and bare ass.
Y/n's body kept trembling due to the pleasure and the little act he was playing, teasing her cunt since he started to speak to make her desperate and needy for him.
"Understood, love?" Tommy's sweet tone, boomed in her empty head as tears kept wetting her cheeks. A soft yelp escaping her mouth when his hand slapped her pussy, hitting her clit harshly to make her squirt on him and the fabric of the moquette.
The young woman was breathing heavily, a soft sob interrupted the silence followed by a playful slap on her cheek as she kept nodding at what he asked her.
"That's a good woman, eh" Thomas hummed in a mocking tone, before getting carefully up... his icy stare remaining on her as he pumped his softening cock a couple of times
"Now up, on your feet" his business voice kicked in, more authoritarian and dominant than before. His heart was beating fast and his lust was growing even more as the time passed.
Y/n did as he said, forcing herself up on trembling legs; the shock of intense pleasure still making her head feel light and relaxed but exhausted.
As the soft, low voice of her husband smoothed her... his tender praises working as soft caresses after a harsh slap.
"That's a good little wife" he hummed out again, leading her to their bedroom as his lips kept brushing against the side of her bare neck.
"Get undressed for your husband, love" Tommy demanded, stroking her hip as he took care of his own clothes. His eyes never leaving her body as she did what he asked her, looking at him still scared but eager to feel such a surprising sensation again.
The older man's big hands pushed her softly down on the bed by the shoulders, before letting them travel softly up to her face... cupping her cheeks to make her look directly in his eyes "That's way better, isn't it, love?" He asked in a whisper, leaning down to kiss her and let her desire win over her negative thoughts.
A deep sigh left her mouth as a ticklish sensation formed on her skin while Tommy's hand traveled and explored it just like his lips. Resting tenderly against her sternum to place a hard kiss on it... a kiss that started the path of more kisses around her chest and ended with his lips wrapped around her erect nipple.
His calloused hands spread carefully his wife's bare legs, allowing him to move between them with ease while his warm tongue swirled and his lips sucked sensually, moving away with a soft pop.
"Been dying to feel your pretty warm mouth around my cock, honey" he murmured softly, brushing his nose against her jugular up to her face
"Or to feel your hands... breasts.... ass... squeezing me till I'm satisfied—" he continued, stopping just to let a throaty groan leave his body as his tip got squeezed by Y/n's cunt.
Her eyes closed quickly at the feeling of his thick lenght forcing itself inside of her tight pussy... causing a burning sensation that was eased down by the quick movements of Tommy's fingers on her clit
"Fuckk... darlin', if you keep squeezing me like this it won't last long" he murmured through a hiss, snapping his hips forward so that his cock was now fully swallowed by her pussy which held him like a vice.
Her juices started to wet his thighs shamefully as he pressed himself as close as possible to feel the bulge caused by his cock in her lower belly.
"You fookin' loving it, eh?" Tommy asked teasingly, sloppy kissing her lips as she tried to say 'yes' after a choked moan.
And it was true, she was loving it... her body was loving it.
When her husband started to move inside of her, she felt tears gathering in her eyes at the contrast of his firm and quick but still sensual thrusts and his tender, loving kisses.
It was different from the quick fuck on the stairs or the cold sex they had during the honeymoon, he wanted to show her and make her take the right choice... either be fucked like a useless whore or like his wife.
The message was clear and his demeanour was really fucking with her mind just like his body was doing to hers.
She was his wife... his wife.
He kept repeating it as he slowly reached his peak again, his firm but loving grip forced her to look him in the eyes as her back arched and a silent moan left her body. Her toes curled against the cold sheet of their bed, making her realize how warm her body actually was at that moment.
"Fookin' hell, cream around my cock, love" Tommy ordered, lost in pleasure... snapping his hips forward a couple of times before going for a deeper one and stop right there.
His sharp jaw dropping as a moan left his mouth, his seed shot inside of her cunt as curses and praises joined the moment. She could feel it and she was sure that it would have caused consequences as well as a drastic change in their life.
Y/n Shelby... was Tommy's wife.
Only his, his damn property and.. woman. Not anyone else's and he had just proved his point.
#tommy shelby x reader#tommy shelby fanfic#tommy shelby smut#tommy shelby x you#tommy shelby x y/n#tommy shelby#tommy shelby fic#thomas shelby x reader#thomas x reader#thomas shelby fanfic#thomas shelby#thomas shelby x you#thomas shelby x y/n#thomas shelby fic#cillian fic#cillian murphy#cillian murphy smut#cillian x fem!reader#cillian x reader#cillian x y/n#cillian fanfic#cillian murphy fanfic#cillian murphy fic#cillian murphy x you#cillian murphy x y/n#cillian murphy x reader#cillian murphy one shot
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Hi! For the celebration, how about… “Do you know you’re bleeding?” with Tommy.
Maybe a more light hearted protective Tommy situation <3
Hi there, anon! Thanks for sending this in! I’m sorry it took a little bit for me to get to. I love me some protective Tommy! I hope you like what I did with the prompt. Enjoy! :)
I’D LOVE TO KNOW WHAT YOU THINK! - YOUR COMMENTS & REBLOGS HELP ME WRITE!
Part of my 3.5k Celebration — find more stories here!
An Unfortunate Accident
Tommy Shelby x Reader
Warnings: language, blood
Word Count: 601
Summary: When Tommy finds (Y/N) injured after something silly happened to her, he immediately thinks the worst.
“Shit,” (Y/N) hissed as she quickly cradled her hand against her chest. She gritted her teeth as a surge of pain quickly shot down her arm. “Shit, shit, shit!”
She looked around the kitchen. There has to be something I can use to cover this, she thought to herself as the pain grew stronger. Footsteps sounded off the hardwood just as she managed to grab one of the dish towels sitting on the counter. A quick spin to face the archway told her that Tommy had entered the room. Shit.
“Hi, Tommy,” she tried to sound as nonchalant as possible as she greeted her husband. Her both hands were now hdiden behind her back, and she was placing as much pressure on her injury as possible. “You’re home early,” she commented sheepishly.
“Not really,” he answered, his brows furrowing slightly as he took in the sight of her. “What’s happened?” he asked her then, closing the gap between them as worry seeped into his features. Between her frazzled state and how things looked, his mind was starting to create several scenarios.
“What?” her question came out like a breath, her heart hammering in her chest.
“Do you know you’re bleeding?” he asked.
“I’m not,” she dismissed him, speaking a little too quickly for her liking.
“You are. It’s all over your dress, love,” he answered, motioning to the article of clothing. (Y/N) quickly looked down to see that the front of her dress was indeed stained crimson. A sigh left her lips. “So tell me the truth. What happened?” he asked again, his voice level, his tone one that she couldn’t argue with.
“You’re going to laugh,” she sighed, her sheepishness returning.
“I’m not,” he assured her with a slight shake of his head, his eyes still focused on her.
(Y/N) held his gaze for a few moments, still weighing it all out in her mind. Tommy kept his eyes on her, his eyebrows raising after a few seconds of silence had passed - his nonverbal way of saying ‘I’m waiting’.
One more sigh escaped her lips before she finally brought her (now blood-stained) cloth-covered hand back into view. “I, uh…I was chopping some of the vegetables, and a bird flew into the window. The bang it made scared me and my hand slipped. I sliced my finger pretty good.”
“A bird?” Tommy questioned, incredulousness seeping into his words. His eyes left hers, albeit for a moment, to glance out the window…as if said bird was still going to be hovering there.
“Yes, a bloody bird,” (Y/N) answered, a dire earnestness present in her voice. She watched her husband’s face carefully, waiting for what she knew would becoming. The second she saw his lips twitch, she jumped on him. “You said you weren’t going to laugh!” she exclaimed.
“I’m not laughing!” he defended himself, although he couldn’t help but let a few chuckles out. This made (Y/N) glare at him, and she smacked him on the chest without thinking.
“Ow! Fuck. Tommy!” she exclaimed, her eyes wide with pain.
“Didn’t quite think that one through, eh?” he questioned with a chuckle. (Y/N) couldn’t even be mad at him…he was right. “Lemme see it,” he said then, coaxing her to show him her injured hand.
It took a few moments, but she showed it to him. “It’s bad, isn’t it?” she asked, cringing at the sight of it.
“I’ve seen worse,” he answered, glancing up at her to send a smile before focusing on her hand again, “let’s get it cleaned up.”
*tags in reblog so that hopefully they get sent out.
MASTERLIST
#tommy shelby#tommy shelby x reader#tommy shelby x you#tommy shelby x y/n#tommy shelby blurb#tommy shelby imagine#tommy shelby fanfic#tommy shelby fanfiction#peaky blinders#peaky blinders x reader#peaky blinders x y/n#peaky blinders x you#peaky blinders blurb#peaky blinders imagine#peaky blinders fanfiction#peaky blinders fanfic#fanfiction#fanfic#k’s 3.5k celebration
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imma need some tommy shelby w equestrian!reader omg like anything
(i’m a sucker for this man)
admiration
pairing: thomas shelby x equestrian!reader
warnings: none, just tommy fanboying over reader
summary: you are the first woman to ever join and win a horse-racing competition. thomas shelby, who loves horses, deeply admires you and your skills. you meet him in a pub called the garrison and there, you witness his admiration.
“well, i’ll be… win after win. victory after victory. all in different places. proud to say this woman’s a birmingham resident.” arthur shelby said as he held up a newspaper, a cigar in his mouth.
“i’m guessing it’s about that (y/n) (l/n) girl, eh?” polly gray or aunt poll as the shelbys liked to call her, asked as she downed a glass of whiskey. “she’s become quite the hot topic.”
“oh, she’s hot, alright.” john shelby smirked, fiddling with the cigarette in between his two fingers. “still a turn on despite wearing fucking trousers all the damn time.”
“john.” thomas shelby warned, not wanting to hear sexual remarks about you, especially from his own brother.
thomas admired you. how could he not? you were the one who raced his beloved horse, monaghan boy, and brought victory to his name.
he hadn’t gotten the chance to meet you yet. unfortunately. he wondered when you would be done with your little world tour and back in birmingham.
but lo and behold, you stood there at the entrance of the pub, wearing a loose blouse and a pair of trousers as you always do.
“what can i get for you?” grace, the new irish barmaid, noticed your presence and asked.
“you choose. i’m fine with anything.”
“you look worn out.” grace pointed out.
you did look worn out, like you hadn’t had a wink of sleep in ages, but you were beautiful nonetheless. actually, more beautiful than thomas imagined. he stared at you, mouth slightly agape, captivated by the mere sight of you.
“been rough for the past couple of months.” you sighed. “traveling, competing, attending social events. haven’t gotten much sleep.”
“i see.” grace nodded, pouring whiskey into a glass and handing it to you.
thomas couldn’t believe it.
you were here.
in the garrison.
in the flesh.
“well, aren’t you gonna talk to her?” aunt poll raised her brow at thomas, who couldn’t get his eyes off you.
“if you aren’t then i will.” john volunteered.
thomas quickly snapped out of his daze, whipping his head to john. “no.” he pushed his seat back and stood up.
“i never thought i’d see the day tommy boy falls in love.” arthur chuckled.
“i thought he was in love with the new barmaid.” john scoffed, taking a long drag from his cigarette. he was upset that his older brother wouldn’t allow him to talk to you let alone talk about you.
“apparently not.” aunt poll shook her head as thomas eagerly made his way towards you.
“how much for the drink?” you questioned.
“it’s–“ grace was cut off by a deep voice, belonging to the one and only thomas shelby.
“–it’s on the house, ms (l/n).”
“mr shelby.” you shot him a look of surprise. you had forgotten the shelbys practically owned the place.
“leave us be, grace.” he ordered the barmaid and she followed, resuming back to her duties and leaving you two alone.
“here. take a seat.” he pulled out a chair.
you did as told and he pulled out another chair, sitting across from you.
you took a sip out of your glass. “you’ve some fine whiskey, mr shelby.” then looked around the dimly lit pub. “nice looking place as well.”
“please, call me thomas.”
“okay… thomas. call me (y/n) then.” it felt weird to call him by his actual name. you had only just met and he already wanted to be on a first name basis.
“so, what brings you here, (y/n)?”
“felt a little homesick.” you shrugged.
“no, i mean, in the garrison.”
“oh, it’s been a while since i drank. i wanted a drink, so i went to the nearest pub. why?”
“nothing. just curious.”
“is that all you have to say to me, mr sh– thomas?”
“do you enjoy racing horses?”
you hesitated. “the fame can be overwhelming. i love racing horses, it’s my passion, it’s what i do… but i want to be away from people… just for a little while.”
“fame can be overwhelming, yes. i know a thing or two about that feeling. only difference is i’m not famous for being a horse jockey, i’m famous for being a gangster.” he joked. the thomas shelby, the man who always had a straight face, made a joke.
you let out a laugh. a sincere one.
god, your laughter sounded like music to his ears.
“i can’t believe i’m having a decent conversation with one.”
“we gangsters are capable of having decent conversations only with the ones who deserve it.”
you let out another laugh. “goodness. if that’s the case, i’m glad you approve of me.”
“you raced my horse, after all.” he reminded.
“monaghan boy.“ you remembered the beautiful, black horse that you were assigned to race. the horse that led you to fame. “he’s a good boy.”
“aye, that he is.” he agreed.
“you know, thomas, you’re not half-bad.”
he found himself gleaming, enjoying every bit of the conversation, whilst the two shelby siblings and their aunt watched the scene unfold from afar.
you took another sip of the whiskey, humming at the taste, while thomas lit up a cigarette.
then, came silence.
none of you spoke a word, but you enjoyed each other’s company. it was evident in the way you looked at each other. you looked at each other as if you were the only people in the room.
“i’d like to take you somewhere tomorrow.” he suddenly said, breaking the silence.
“oh.” you perked up. “where?”
“the stables. let’s race, you and i. no audience. it’ll be just the two of us.” he proposed.
“is that a date?” when he didn’t deny it, you couldn’t fight off the smile that was making its way to your lips. “you’re rather bold, aren’t you, thomas?”
“what’s your answer?”
“i’ll have to check my schedule first…” you trailed off, but then you decided, why not? it sounded like a good offer. “you know what. fuck it. sure.”
thomas grinned at your rebellious behavior.
“what do you think about two in the afternoon?”
“fine with me.”
uncharacteristically, thomas’ heart fluttered. it had never done that before. it was an odd sensation yet it felt good at the same time.
you informed him your address, so he knew where to pick you up. “need me to write it down or you got it?”
“i got it.” he reassured.
you finished your drink and got up. “it was lovely talking to you. thank you for the drink.” you began walking towards the exit, but before stepping outside, you turned to look at him and uttered. “see you at my doorstep tomorrow, thomas.”
“see you tomorrow, (y/n).”
#thomas shelby#thomas shelby x reader#thomas shelby x you#peaky blinders#peaky blinders imagine#peaky blinders one shot#peaky blinders fanfic#peaky blinders x reader#peaky blinders x you#peaky fookin blinders#cillian murphy#cillian murphy x reader#tommy shelby#tommy shelby x reader#tommy shelby x you
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Don't Be Late
Pairing: Tommy Shelby x Y/N (lil bit of fluff, angst, tormented Tommy and comfort)
Summary: When Tommy makes a promise to his wife he could never imagine that breaking it could potentially cost Y/N her life.
Warnings: bad language, a couple of slur words as used in the show *not words that I myself deem acceptable!*, a lot of violence, mentions of injuries, blood and death. Reader discretion is advised, do not read if you feel uncomfortable with this kind of content
Word Count: This is a long one coming in at 6,800k
A/N: It's been a while since I've written a full blown fic but I was on a roll so I just went with it! I hope you enjoy, please do like, reblog and/or comment your thoughts on it, I really appreciate the feedback x
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"It's been three days, Pol. Why won't she wake up?"
He leant forwards in his chair, a hand gently grasping Y/N's as she lay motionless on her hospital bed. Her body was battered with violent purple bruises and cuts covering what seemed to be every inch of her body.
The last three days had been hell, with a mixture of so many emotions running through him that he didn't know where to put and the not knowing. Worry, anger, sadness. Guilt. So much guilt, it consumed him.
Tommy wasn't sure if he'd ever be able to forgive himself for not being there to protect her. It could be said that it was a case of "wrong person, wrong time", but that did nothing to subside the sense of dread that filled his stomach whenever he thought about the brutality his wife had been through, all because of him. How scared she must have been on her own waiting for him to come and save her, but he came too late.
"Give her time, Tom. She's been through a lot, her body’s trying to heal, we can't rush these things. Besides, the doctor said this morning that the swelling and bleeding has started to go down so she is getting better. Slowly. We just have to be patient", Aunt Polly delicately placed her hand on his shoulder, softly stroking her thumb back and forth over the newly clean shirt.
Polly had brought a clean set of clothes to the hospital after seeing that Tommy was too terrifed to leave Y/N at the hospital alone for even a second, leaving him wearing blood soaked clothes for the first day. Y/N's blood.
"I should've been there Pol. None of this would've happened if I hadn't gotten too cocky and dragged John and Arthur down to London to Sabini's club. All this for a fucking business expansion"
He lowered his head and brought his free hand to his forehead, pinching at the sides as if to relieve some of the stress growing with tension there.
"Fuck!", he shouted before quickly covering his face with his hand.
Tommy could feel tears springing to his eyes as he glared down between the gaps in his fingers at the speckled hospital floor. He was so tired of crying in the presence of anyone that wasn't Y/N since the night this whole shit show happened, it made him feel weak knowing other people could see that in fact, yes, Tommy Shelby does have emotions. Y/N was the only one he'd been able to willingly show any kind of vulnerable emotion to since he'd returned from the war.
The sound of a lighter flicking open followed by the quick sizzle of a cigarette being lit came from behind him as Polly took a drag, before holding it within Tommy's line of vision.
"Here, take this".
He hesitated for a moment, making sure that no tears would fall, then slowly lifted his head and reached for the now softly glowing cigarette bringing it to his lips and taking a long pull, exhaling the smoke as if it were the stress partially releasing from his body.
Aunt Pol watched him carefully, almost as if she were waiting to see if he was going to explode like a ticking time bomb or finally let his shoulders relax and sink into the chair. She was thankful when he chose the latter, slowly leaning back against the wooden frame, still holding onto Y/N's hand.
"You should go back to the house, Tom. Get some rest. I'll stay with her until you come back", she spoke softly, her own eyes tired from the constant secret worrying she'd been doing as well as sitting with Tommy next to Y/N's bed the last three days.
"No. I won't leave her, Pol. I can't leave her, it's my fault she ended up like this, I can't risk them coming back or the risk of her...", he stopped his words in their tracks as a lump formed in his throat. The tears that had only just subsided now came back, threatening to spill over, "Of her dying. Alone. Without me here letting her know she's safe, that I'm sorry. So fucking sorry"
Polly's face grew empathetic as she saw the pain etched all over Tommy's, the vacant glassiness of his eyes that had only grown darker over the past few days.
"She's not going to die..."
"She might, Pol!", his anger exploded then, the ticking time bomb she'd been waiting for had finally gone off.
The chair scraped on the floor as he stood, letting go of Y/N's hand, before turning to face his aunt who remained seated, not taking her eyes off him.
"How can you be so sure that she's gonna live, eh? How can you be so sure that she's ever going to open her eyes again?"
There was less accusation in his words than it seemed, more like a plead for some kind of reassurance or promise that the love of his life would be okay, that she'd return to the real world again.
Polly stood, then, calm and collected.
"Because I know Y/N Shelby, and so do you. She's a tough girl, it'll take more than Sabini and the fuckers who did this to take her down. Now, go home and get some sleep. I'll stay here with her, give her a wash and read some of your poetry outloud. The nurses say she can still hear what's going on around her, that she may even end up dreaming of things that are being said so we'll be having no more talk of death. John said he'll take the next shift of watching the door so tell him when you get back to come here. You know he won't let those bastards go anywhere near her if they so much as step foot near the hospital"
Polly’s eyes remained on him like a mother scolding her child until they did what they were told. She knew that he was still reluctatant to leave Y/N's bedside but felt relief when he subtly nodded to her, stubbing out his cigarette and picking up his coat before leaning over Y/N to place a kiss on her head, being careful to avoid the purpling bruise that was forming there.
"I'll be back in two hours, Pol, then you can go home and get some sleep", he said simply, making his way over to the door.
"Not two, six. You need a proper sleep"
He narrowed his eyes at her without saying anything, his lips twitching as if ready to disagree with what his aunt had said.
"I'd say eight but I know you won't be able to stay away for that long. What good are you to her if your eyes can't even focus on what the gun is aiming at? Go. Get some sleep"
Three days earlier
They'd agreed that they would meet at 8pm later that evening, after Tommy finished up with business for the day, where the family car was stored in the garage near the Shelby family home.
"Don't keep me waiting too long", she giggled, stroking his face with the palm of her hand.
"Who says you'll be waiting?", he smiled, taking the hand that was on his cheek and bringing it to his mouth, placing a soft kiss to it.
The Garrison hadn't opened for the day yet but the Peaky Boys were starting to gather at the bar, getting in a pint before the days business was about to begin. John and Arthur were already trying to place a bet with Isaiah about who could down the most pints before blacking out with Arthur claiming it to be him.
"Eh, lads! No more drinking until business is finished for the day, and Arthur, I could place twenty pound on it being anyone but you who could drink the most", Tommy interrupted, leading to a cackle of ladish jeers.
Y/N laughed before getting Tommy's attention once again, this time placing a finger beneath his chin and gently pulling his face towards hers.
"I know you, Tommy Shelby. You like to be on time when it's for business but business is also what makes you late to see me"
He felt a pang of guilt hit his stomach at her words, he knew she was right. He'd lost count of how many times he'd come home to find her curled up in front of the fire in his office fast asleep. How many times he'd either carried her up to bed or simply placed a blanket over her while he continued working into the early hours of the morning.
"I promise, love. I'll be at the garage at 8pm sharp"
This time he leant forward and touched his lips to hers, taking in the sweet flavour of her lips that he loved so much.
"Go on, Pol will be waiting for you"
She paused, "Is it bad to say that I don't believe you?"
"I promise, Y/N"
She wanted to believe the sincerity in his eyes but a tiny part of her knew that she'd more than likely be kept waiting out in the cold while he finished up business for the day.
"Okay", she half smiled, "I love you, Mr. Shelby"
Tommy kissed her then, brushing a strand of hair that had fallen across her face behind her ear.
"I love you too, Mrs. Shelby"
---
It was already dark by the time she'd made her way to their meeting point with only the glow from a firepit in the workshop opposite as the main source of light, rain flooding down onto the pavement outside in typical autumnal British fashion creating the sound of pattering on the old tin roof of the garage.
Y/N sighed as she leant against the black Ford Model T, taking a look at her watch. 8:03pm.
'Well, it's only three minutes late, let's see if he's here before four minutes late', she thought to herself.
There wasn't much to see in the garage other than old petrol can's and some oiled rags that had been dropped lazily on the floor, not that she could see much anyway with only the fire for her source. In fact, it only stretched as far as half the length of the garage, where unbenownsed to her there were men that were lurking in the shadows, ready to pounce on the unsuspecting victim.
"Get 'em!"
The sound of a thick London Italian accent echoed through the cold rickety room and all Y/N could think to do was to cower against the car, waiting to be manhandled in some kind of way, the panic instantly settling into her chest.
It was obvious that the men who now had their fists blowing punches to her face didn't have a clue it was in fact a woman they were beating and not a man, probably due to the fact the fire was doing little to show that she'd wrapped her scarf over her head to stop the rain from ruining her curls. They didn't realise until she mustered enough strength through the continuous punches to let out the loudest scream she could.
It was only then that the men took a step back as the same voice from before bellowed out, "Stop!"
She held her hands up to her face and felt a slick warm liquid quickly covering them, the skin beneath it sore to the touch. Her left eye was blurry from the mixture of what she could only assume to be blood and swelling, but she could just about make out the silhoutte of a slim man with a hat standing near the wall.
The adrenaline was already kicking in helping to keep some of the pain from showing it's full potential, but her fight or flight hadn't seemed to of made an appearance yet. All she could do was stand there, frozen to the spot, her hands still holding her bloodied face.
"You must be Tommy Shelby's missus", spoke the man with the hat, taking a step forward confirming in the dim light that it was who she'd feared it would be. Sabini.
"What's the matter? Cat got your tongue?", he smirked, leering towards her only inches from her face, "Apologies for the misunderstanding, we thought you were Mr. Shelby"
Her heart dropped into her stomach at the thought that this beating was meant for Tommy, that she knew they intended to do more than land a few punches to his face. She spat at the ground infront of Sabini's feet.
"You're lucky it was me and not Tommy, he'd have your eyes the minute you laid your hands on him", she was surprised by how even she managed to keep her voice despite the sheer panic coursing through her.
Y/N knew it was a lie, that Tommy would be far too outnumbered to take on five of Sabini's men on his own especially without being able to see much.
Sabini laughed, throwing his head back slightly before stopping abruptly and grabbing onto each of her arms.
"You listen here you little princess, I don't think you quite understand the extent of how pissed off I am at your fella. You see, him and his brothers came to my club in London two nights ago. The Eden Club. A well run establishment, I'm sure you've heard of it. Anyway, they caused such a fucking scene that I've had to take matters into my own hands. I was planning on getting to Tommy, show him how scared he should really be about barging into one of my clubs, but it seems I may now have an even better way of sending that message".
Even with the light uneven across his features she could see a sly snarl creep onto Sabini's face, his breath fanning against her skin as he spoke. It was enough to make her want to wretch.
"Right boys, forget about Tommy. I want you to do what you were going to do to Tommy to her"
Her heart flew straight into her throat, threatening to jump out of her mouth at any moment. She wanted to throw up but the best thing she could do now would be to gain as much attention to passers by as she could. She screamed again only to have her mouth covered by Sabini as two men took over the hold on her arms.
"Listen here you little bitch, whether you like it or not, you're getting a beating. If Tommy's not man enough to face me himself and resorts to showing up to one of my clubs instead then this is what happens, someones pretty little face gets smashed in"
"You're a fucking creep! Tommy will be here any minute and I'm sure his brothers will be with him too, you won't know what fucking hit you!", she spat, the venom spewing from her mouth.
Sabini wasted no time in landing a hard slap against her already throbbing cheek making her splutter out whatever saliva she had left. He didn't leave it there though as his gripped both hands around her throat, squeezing as tight as he could.
"We'll be glad to see Tommy and his brothers, we can have a nice little catch up. Those boys couldn't organise a piss up in a brewery no matter how hard they tried so I'm not too worried. Carry on boys"
He let go of her throat leading her to gasp for air, her lungs felt like they were on fire with every harsh breath.
She didn't even have time to brace herself from the punch that was swiftly administered to her stomach, knocking out every bit of air she had managed to gain back, bringing her to the ground with a hard thump. Her head bounced off the ground sending a shockwave of pain running over her skull and down her neck.
The punches were now followed by the kicks of steel toe capped boots, each kick more painful than the last until she almost felt numb. Where the fuck is Tommy?
She wanted nothing more than to scream out for him, to hear him running towards the men with bullets flying, ready to put an end to this nightmare, but all she could do was sob as the pain coursed through her.
"Boys, hold her up", Sabini's voice cut through the sound of the thumps and thuds, his voice menacing laced with a sneer.
Two men gripped Y/N's arms and yanked her back onto her feet, knees buckling beneath her with one of her ankles too weak to bare any weight. She was pretty sure she had some broken ribs and that her ankle was much the same way but she knew there was nothing she could do about it now. The only thing she could do was let her head loll forwards with sheer exhaustion.
It was hard to keep her eyes open as her head was pulled up by a harsh grab of her hair, weakness taking over her entire body.
"Look at me. I said look at me!"
Another firm yank of the hair had her gaze just about managing to focus on Sabini, his eyes showing a glint of evil.
"I want you to tell your dirty gypsy husband that I'm coming for him next, if he wants to take over my race tracks then he's gonna have to fight for it"
"You're a fucking pig Sabini", her voice was hoarse as she spoke, her head longing to fall fowards again and let her eyes shut.
"Take my fucking name out of your mouth! 'Ere, Franco, take my name out of this scum's mouth"
She wasn't prepared for what came next as a blade was forced inside her mouth, her cheeks slowly being cut as well as a part of her lip. The taste of the metallic blood filled every tastebud, the only noise she was able to make were muffled groans as the cold metal sliced roughly through her skin.
Her body suddenly dropped to the floor once more, the sound of the mens foot steps starting to fade as they made their way towards the back of the garage and through a hole in the wooden panelling.
"Don't forget to give your husband my message, if you survive that is", Sabini's spoke, a chuckle following him as he finally left her and made his way out the same way as the other men.
She had no energy to even cry any more, a numbness enveloping her body and the blood still slowly seeping out of every cut she'd sustained.
She couldn't focus on anything now, the need for sleep becoming too great to keep her eyes open. She didn't even hear Tommy's footsteps quickly approaching the garage a minute later where she lay in a pool of her own blood. All she could do was let her eyelids drop as she slipped into darkness.
—
"Y/N! Oh fuck, Y/N!"
His cries bellowed through the bleak surroundings, the only movement to be seen was the flicker of the flames from the fire in his peripheral.
“John! Arthur! Where the fuck are you?”, he screamed into the night before turning his attention back to Y/N.
"C'mon Y/N you need to wake up now, c'mon sweetheart", his desperate pleas did nothing as he cradled her head, her blood soaking into his trousers. He could see her chest rising and falling but knew that it was getting slower and slower with every moment that passed by.
It'd only been a minute or so since he'd gotten there but he could've sworn it'd been more like an hour, his heart thumping so hard that he thought it would surely pop out of his chest.
"John! Arthur!"
Tears were streaming down his face, dripping onto Y/N's blood soaked cheeks, leaving streaks running through the red liquid.
He knew his brothers were meant to be on their way with the promise of a bed at Arrow House for the night. He just hoped that they would be sober enough to help deal with the chaos that was going on.
There was so much blood that he didn't know what to do. Sure, he could leave Y/N and go get help himself, but he didn't want to leave her alone for even a second. He'd already let her down once this evening and he'd be damned if he was going to let her die here alone on the cold stone floor, or have the people who did this to her come back and finish off the job.
John and Arthur came stumbling through the open door of the garage, an arm wrapped over each others shoulders as they laughed about how many women they'd managed to pull that night. As soon as they saw the scene in front of them though, the laughing soon stopped and they both straightened up, their eyes almost not wanting to look at the state before them.
"Who the fuck did this, Tommy? Where the fuck are they? I'll fuckin’ get 'em Tom I fuckin’ promise you, those bastards won't get away with this!" John's hands had grown into fists with his knuckles turning white, the anger twisting his face into pure hatred.
"It doesn't matter right now, John. Just go and get help, call a fucking ambulance!", Tommy looked to Arthur whose expression had turned more into terror than anything else, "Arthur, I need you to get Pol, tell her Y/N's hurt, badly. Tell her I need her here, I need... just get her Arthur, now"
It took a second longer than Tommy would've liked but both brothers soon turned and ran out towards the Shelby family home, their legs wobbling beneath them as they went.
"I'm sorry, Y/N. I'm so fucking sorry", Tommy sobbed as he gently stroked her face, pulling her in closer to him. His mind was racing with all the questions he was dying to know the answer to.
He knew he should be worrying about who it was that had done this to her but he was pretty sure he knew the answer to that already, and he wasn't about to waste what time he might have left with his wife thinking about that. No. All that mattered right now was that Y/N was going to live, that her eyes would open and she'd look up at him with that brilliant smile he loved so much to tell him that she was okay, that she was going to survive this.
Flashing lights appeared outside whilst Tommy had his head rested on Y/N's, whispering over and over again how sorry he was and how much he loved her. The pain he felt was all consuming and he knew he'd give anything to be in her position right now, just like it should have been.
Even when the medics came to retrive Y/N he couldn't bare to let her go, he insisted on carrying her into the back of the ambulance and holding her all the way to the hospital. They knew better than to argue with the Shelby man but managed to convince him to allow for her vitals to be monitored on the journey there, her pulse rate rapidly declining.
Polly hadn't arrived at the garage quick enough so Arthur had driven both Polly and John to the hospital at speed, swerving all over the road as they went, the tires slipping on the slick ground beneath them.
When they finally got there they saw Tommy disappearing through the double doors with Y/N still in his arms, a trail of blood on the floor behind him. This was going to be a long night.
—
The doctors had managed to get her heart rate back up to a reasonable pace by the time she was settled into a private hospital room. Fluids were being administered consistently alongside different medicines flowing through the tubes, her wounds now dressed with bandages and a thin blanket covering her black and blue body.
"Mr. Shelby, your wife has been through a terrible ordeal, it's a miracle she's still alive", a tall man with slicked blonde hair and glasses spoke, a clipboard and pen in his hands.
"When will she wake up?", Tommy tried to shake off his annoyance at the doctors statement of the obvious, of course this was a fucking terrible ordeal! Anyone with eyes could see that. He just wanted the facts that mattered most.
"Mr. Shelby, as I said, your wife has been through a terrible ordeal..."
Tommy grimaced, "I fucking know she has, don't you think I can see what's right in front of me? That and the fact I found my wife lying in a pool of her own blood half dead? Just tell me, when will she wake up?"
He was growing tired of not having answers to the main question he had and knew he wouldn't be able to relax until he had a definitive answer.
"The honest answer Mr. Shelby is that we don't know. To be blunt we're not sure if she's going to"
Tommy's heart dropped into his stomach.
"As you know, she's been through...", the doctor paused, not wanting to use the term 'terrible ordeal' again, "A lot. We've taken some images of her brain and we can see that she has some bleeding and swelling. We're not sure that she can recover from something like that, we can only hope that she will. Her injuries are severe, Mr. Shelby. As well as the damage to the brain she also has some internal bleeding, broken ribs, a collapsed lung, brusing to the esophagus, cuts to the inside of her mouth and a broken ankle. We're doing everything we can to ensure that she'll recover from this but it will take time. I'm sorry"
A ringing sounded in Tommy's ears, a noise so defeaning that he couldn't focus on anything right now other than the fact Y/N might not make it through this. His chest tightened and he found himself struggling to breathe, the sheer weight of the words he'd just heard sitting heavy on his chest.
"Are you okay, Mr. Shelby?"
"Leave. Now, please. Leave!"
The doctor wasted no time in carrying out Tommy's order as he scurried out of the room, closing the door behind him.
Tommy fell to the floor, his knee's weak and unable to hold him upright. He clutched his chest as he gasped for the air that seemed to have become so thin in the room. Tears that had gathered in his eyes began to fall and there was nothing more he could do than kneel there on the cold floor as his world came crashing down around him.
If he'd of been there at the time they'd agreed then this wouldn't have happened, not to Y/N anyway. It would be him laying in the hospital bed in front of him instead of her, or he'd be laying in a ditch somewhere ready for some poor passerby to find when dawn came.
He knew for a fact that the guilt that was growing in strength would never leave him even if she did make it out of this, that he'd always blame himself for not being on time.
A small knock on the door brought him shakily back up onto his feet again as he gripped onto the frame of the bed. Tommy managed to wipe away his tears just in time for Polly, John and Arthur to walk into the room.
He couldn't look at them, only at Y/N laying in the bed. Her lifeless body was slightly sinking into the mattress beneath her, a mess of hair covered in congealed blood surrounded her head.
"Is she going to be okay, Tom?", John's voice quietly cut through the silence like a knife.
Tommy took a moment before letting out a sigh, the lump in his throat wanting to escape and cause tears to come flooding out.
"I don't know. The doctor said that she's got bleeding and swelling on the brain amongst other things. They don't know if she's going to wake up".
The room stayed silent with no one wanting to say a word, both for fear of upsetting Tommy further and also because what else was there to say? There was nothing any of them could do to make the situation better or to make light of any of this.
Tommy took a seat next to Y/N's bed side and held her fragile hand, longing for her to wrap her fingers around his, but of course she didn't. Even that alone was enough to make his heart break.
"John. I need you to arrange for the blinders to be on a rotation of a look out. I don't want anybody coming in or out this hospital without us knowing about it. Arthur, take Isaiah and a couple of the blinders with you to London, I need you to find Sabini", Tommy spoke plainly, not taking his eyes off of Y/N.
"Yes, Tom", Arthur nodded, motioning for John to follow his lead out of the room.
"Oh, and Arthur? When you find him", Tommy turned to look at him now, his eyes cold but somehow a fire lit in them, "Bring him to me. Alive"
—
Three days later
As expected, Tommy arrived back at the hospital within four hours instead of the six Aunt Polly had ordered.
He couldn't sleep. Every time he'd managed to drift off he was soon awoken by nightmares of Y/N's screams as she was repeatedly kicked and punched, the sound each one of the blows made making his stomach churn. He could see her body laying there in a pool of blood with sobs wracking her chest... her calling out his name and him not being able to reach her even though he could see everything that was happening.
Tommy woke up in a cold sweat, his clothes soaked right through and his hair wet. He decided he was better off admitting defeat than to try going back to sleep, the thought of having to see those images of Y/N whenever he closed his eyes was enough to make his blood run cold.
His childhood home was quiet when he made his way downstairs. Ada had taken Finn to Arrow House under her watchful eye with Karl, it was better to be in a house that was stocked with firearms than back in London with nothing but a single pistol and where Sabini could be lurking in the shadows.
John had gone to the hospital to take the next watch and Arthur was somewhere in London seeking out Sabini and his lackeys, waiting to hand him a blow that would make the Italian man wish he'd never come to Birmingham.
Tommy decided on having a bath before putting on clean clothes, taking a look in the mirror before he left. His complexion had almost drained of colour over the past three days with the exception of the dark circles that appeared under his eyes, much darker than usual.
"God I hope she wakes up soon", he muttered to himself, adorning his peaky cap and reaching for the door handle before stepping out onto the bustling streets of Birmingham, lighting a smoke as he made his way to the hospital.
When he walked through the doors of Y/N's room he noticed something different. Aunt Polly was no longer sitting there with sadness in her eyes, instead she was stood next to the bed holding Y/N's hand, a small smile upon her face.
His eyebrows furrowed with confusion and his pace slowed as he approached her.
"What's happened?" he asked, nervous energy rushing through him.
"She moved, Tom. All on her own, she moved!"
Polly was beaming now, fresh tears sprang to her eyes and she had to resist the urge to hug him.
"What do you mean she moved?"
"I mean, I was reading her one of your poems and holding her hand. Her fingers started to move as if she was trying to tell me she could hear me. She's still in there Tommy"
His heart swelled in his chest although he didn't want to get his hopes up too much, there was nothing worse that breaking your own heart with false hope.
"It might've just been the nerves jumping, Pol. She probably doesnt have control of her body right now", he knew he sounded like dismissive bastard but he couldn't bring himself to believe that Y/N could do that but not open her eyes.
"Stop being so bloody negative Thomas. I'm telling you exactly what I saw with my own two eyes. Read to her yourself, you'll see", Polly scolded him, picking up the pages she'd left on her seat and going to hand them to him.
Tommy said nothing but shook his head towards the pages and instead took a step closer towards Y/N's bed.
Polly placed Y/N's hand in his and softly spoke, "Y/N love, if you can hear what we're saying then squeeze Tommy's hand, let us know that you're still there".
He held his breath as he waited to see if she'd respond, his eyes watching her fingers like a hawk.
"She's not moving, Pol. You're seeing things with the lack of sleep, go home and get to bed, I'm here now and I'm not going anywhere"
"Don't tell me what you think I may be or may not be seeing and certainly don't tell me what to do. You may be a man now Thomas but I'm still able to lay you across my knee and give you a good hiding", her eyes glared daggers into the side of his head as he continued to stare at Y/N's fingers, unmoving on top of his.
"I'm sorry Pol, I just can't... I just can't stand the thought of having the hope there that she'll show me she's okay if she never actually...", he stopped dead in his tracks.
His mouth dropped open and his gaze widened in shock as Y/N's fingers started to slowly lift upwards before coming back down to rest on top of his fingers, trying to curl themselves around his.
"Y/N? It's okay, I'm here. You're safe", he placed his free hand over hers and leant over to kiss her head, the bruises still prominent, "I'm sorry Y/N, I'm so fucking sorry".
Tommy couldn't hold back the tears that were coming and let them spill out to fall down her cheeks, the overwhelming burst of relief he felt within his soul was like nothing he could explain.
Polly stood with a hand over her mouth, a smile beneath her fingers.
"T-T-Tommy?..."
Did she just speak?
His head shot up, eyes wide in disbelief. When he caught the first glimpse of her face he could see that her eyes were slightly open. Her eyeballs had red spots on them where blood vessels had burst, either from the pressure of being strangled or from the numerous hits to the face she'd sustained. He tried to hide the shock that hit him and gently cradled her face with both hands, careful not to press down on the discoloured blotches that lay beneath them.
"You're awake, you're... I-I can't believe it", he stuttered, scanning her face for any kind of expression.
"Y-you... w-w-were... late", she croaked.
It was almost as if he'd taken a stab to the chest as her words met his ears and the guilt came flooding back.
"I know, I'm so, so sorry Y/N, I really am. I don't think I'll ever forgive myself for this, not for as long as I live"
He stifled a sniff as his tears continued, a sob escaping his lips as his face screwed up into pure anguish.
"I-it's... okay", she murmered, taking a deep breath, "do-don't be... s-sorry... I-I'm j-just... glad i-it w-wasn't... you"
"No sweetheart, no. It's not okay, none of this is okay. Because of me, you're lying here in a hospital bed, completely black and blue with internal injuries and broken bones, all because I got too cocky and tried to challenge that fucker. I swear to you, Y/N. I'm gonna put a bullet between his eyes for this, he's not going to get away with it".
He brushed a stray strand of hair away from her face and she smiled softly, the memory of him doing to same back in The Garrison just before she'd left him that day, just before all of this happened…
"H-he said t-t-to... g-give you a... m-message..."
"No, shh shh, it's okay. You don't need to tell me anything right now, you need to rest and get better. You can hardly speak. Tell me anything you need to when you start to feel better. All I care about right now is that I have you, here, alive. No amount of money nor business could come close to how happy I am right at this very moment"
Two Days Later
She'd been awake more frequently over the next couple of days with each day being better than the last. Her bruises had now started to turn a lighter shade of blue with greens and browns dotted through them and the bleeding and swelling on her brain had improved significantly.
The doctors were stunned at how well she was doing, they half expected her to die within the first few days she'd arrived at the hospital.
"How are you feeling today?", Tommy asked as he stroked her hair from his position on the edge of the bed.
"A bit be-tter than yesterday", she softly smiled. She couldn't deny that she still felt like absolute shit and that every time she breathed it felt like she was trying to push air through a straw, but she was just relieved that she'd survived this whole ordeal, "Can you h-help me sit up a b-bit please?"
He instantly stood and gently swooped an arm beneath her legs and the other behind her back, carefully lifting her up before sitting her back down on the bed and repositioning her pillows behind her against the headboard. She winced with the motion but tried her best to hide it. She already knew that Tommy had so much guilt eating him up inside, it almost felt like if she showed him that she was in any kind of pain that it was a reminder of how much he'd fucked up.
"Is that okay?"
She nodded slowly, aware of her aching neck with every slight movement.
"Good, it's nice to see you looking a bit more like yourself", he smiled, his eyes studying every inch of her face.
"Sabini t-told me to tell y-you t-that he's coming for y-you next and that I-if you want to take o-over his race tracks then you're gonna h-have to fight for it... I'm s-scared, Tommy"
Tommy moved his chair closer to the bed, so close that his knees were touching the side of the frame, and took her hand in his.
"I promise you Y/N, you have nothing to be scared about. I know that I broke my promise before about being on time and it cost both of us more than I thought possible, but I swear to you, right here, right now in this moment, I won't let that fucker come near you ever again"
A response to that seemed impossible. Of course she wanted to believe her own husband but when he'd already broken one promise, one that had ultimatley almost led to her death, how could she possibly believe that he'd keep this one?
He could see her thoughts running round her mind, her eyebrows furrowing and mouth twitching like she didn't know what to say.
"Look, I know I fucked up massively. I will never be able to explain to you how sorry I am and I'd understand completely if you didn't want to be with me any more, but please believe that I will do everything in power from here on out to make sure that you're safe"
He was almost scared to hear what she was going to say. Did she want to leave him? Was he destined to lose his wife, not by death this time, but from the sheer fact she didn't think he could keep her safe?
"I-I could n-never leave you, T-Tommy Shelby", she smiled, her lips curving up into her bruised cheeks.
Tommy stood up and brushed his lips against hers, laying a tender kiss upon them before pulling back slightly, enough to still feel her breath on his face.
"Just p-promise me one m-more thing", she spoke, looking into his eyes.
"Anything"
"Don't ever be l-late again"
He grinned, the twinkle in his eyes that she hadn't seen since waking up returning once more.
"I promise"
———
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MASTERLIST PART THREE
Unchained Melody (Part Four)
Summary: After a distressing day of events, you and Tommy finally have the conversation you had both been avoiding for over a fortnight. All under the furious glare of the Governess as she watches from the window, fuming that her plan had fallen apart.
Warnings: Language, angst, fluff, mutual pining, medical emergency
Word Count: 5334
Counting the days since your return to Arrow House had quickly turned into counting weeks. And just as you had once stored the memory of time passed, you found yourself in the midst of loneliness once again. Your new life felt much the same as it once did, albeit with a clearer mind, and the cherished guiding hand of reassurance from your dear housekeeper, Frances. But as you tried to rebuild the severed bond with your son, one thing from your previous life stubbornly remained without any hope of changing. Tommy's absence. Two weeks had passed since your husband had given you a difficult dose in the reality of your disappearance from his life to swallow. And two weeks had passed since you last spoke more than a few words to each other. If his avoidance of you wasn't obvious before, there was now no denying it.
Ashamed of his behavior, and begrudging the fact the near full contents of a whisky bottle he had consumed that night was not enough to dull his memory of the moment he had nearly struck you, Tommy had all but barricaded himself off, and away from any resurfacing grievances he still held for you.
Not allowing yourself to follow your husband's emotional course of self-destruction, you decided to focus your attention on one thing. William. If your husband's bullheadedness had no intentions of following his Aunt's advice, then you would. For all the years you had lived within the tight-knit family you had married into, you had learnt one thing. Polly was always right. Always.
With the wise words of the Shelby matriarch playing on loop in your thoughts as you sat at your vanity, brushing your hair into a loose updo, you forgoed any hopes of reconciliation with your husband, and did as the saying goes. "Let sleeping dogs lie"
Just let him be. You told your nagging brain as you stood up, placing your ivory pearl tear-dropped earrings into your ears, forcing them with a wince through the thin layer of skin that had formed from the many years you had gone without jewellery. A birthday gift from Tommy. Was a little part of you hoping he would notice? You thought to yourself as you opened your bedroom door, wondering if the subtle gesture of gratitude you still held for him would go overlooked. Not that you were trying, of course. And like everything else you had been thrown into in the past two weeks, now was your chance to find out. For just as you reached the top of the staircase, so did your husband, and with it an uncomfortable, almost unbearable silence following him.
" Tommy" you greeted him, unable to force a smile through the sorrow weighing down your heart at his absent gaze as you searched his face for the same desperation you felt.
" Morning" he stated, void of any notions of intimacy as he cleared his throat. Sending but a mere glimpse your way, he gestured with his hand for you to lead the way.
For the briefest of moments all you could do was stand there, hoping like some silly school girl he'd notice the birthday present he had gifted you all those many moons ago. But as Tommy fished in his suit jacket for a much-needed puff of the cigarette calling his name, a dousing of embarrassment piled onto the already mounting heap you had accumulated over the past two weeks, and thus further installing Polly's words to you.
Focus on William. You reassured yourself holding your head high as he followed behind you, quickly inhaling the fumes from the tightly coiled cylinder of tobacco resting between his lips.
But Tommy did notice. He would have noticed a single eyelash out of place if given enough time to do so. Everything, and anything to do with you Tommy noticed, anything but the one thing he had regretfully refused to face, and would now haunt him to his grave, tormenting him for not saying something enough to soothe your worries away. You wore royal blue that night. He thought to himself, recalling the evening he had gifted you the delicate pearled jewels that were gracefully swaying through the whispers of your hair gathered together into pins as he took each step down the long wooded staircase behind you, watching the skin on your neck pucker into small goosebumps from the light spring breeze flowing through the open windows. The same night he held you tightly in his arms, making love to you in front of the fireplace of your living room. The night he was sure William was made. He recounted, losing himself in the small ghost of a smile etched on the corner of his mouth as he watched the end of your dress glide over each step, while the memory of you profusely refuting his calculations entered his thoughts. But when William was born exactly nine months later, he couldn't help but feel a certain sense of cockiness that his keen eye for observation, and his note of a very needy wife that night hadn't gone a miss.
"Mrs Shelby, Mr Shelby. He's been so eager to see you both" Frances smiled upon seeing you descend united down the staircase, a small amount of misplaced hope in her heart that you had worked through things as you both beamed at the wriggly two-year-old unable to contain himself any further in her arms at the sight of his parents.
" William! Hi sweetheart " You smiled, kneeling down as his little legs charged towards you, throwing himself into you with a squeal and a thud. " Did you grow during the night? I think you did" you tickled under the curve of his chin, rubbing your nose over his as your husband's heart pulled at it's tethered strings from seeing the peaceful image of his wife and son together, an image he never thought he'd witness again " What do you think Tommy? Doesn't he looked like he's gro.." You said, momentarily forgetting your self as you turned to face your husband, only to be met with an empty space with Tommy having already walked off to his office.
" Come Mam, I have breakfast ready for you both" Frances sighed ushering you away from the sadness enveloping you as you pulled your only connection to your husband tightly in your arms. " Don't fret now" she said placing her hand to your back, as all your reserves left and a tear began to well in your lashes. " Time is a great healer" she whispered to you with a loving smile as the dining room door closed behind you both and Tommy glanced back, watching his family shut him out. How long would he keep this up before he buckled?
"Good day to you Mrs Shelby, and young Master William" the gardener, Mr Heath greeted you both taking his gloves off as you and William made your way out into the gardens of Arrow house later that morning, feeling the need to walk off the large breakfast of crumpets, and every spreadable food known to man that Frances had lovingly prepared for you.
" Look who it is William! Say hello" you guided him forward with a smile, watching him toddle to the enticing flower bed bright with colours Mr Heath had undoubtedly spent most of his morning planting. With an incoherent babble of words leaving his lips, William sized up the flower in front of him, picking it from its root before you had time to scoop him up into your arms. " I'm sorry Mr Heath. Nothing seems to escape him at the moment" you apologised as you held William on your hip with his victory grasped firmly between his chubby fingers.
" Plenty more where they came from. Isn't that right William? We'll make a gardener of you yet" he winked to your son, looping his thumbs through his suspenders as William kicked his feet back and forth with a squeal, muddying your freshly laundered dress. " Got some of those roses you like Mam, had one of the lads plant 'em this morning. Miss Gray insisted on them being added to the new flower bed you've been designing. And I'm not foolish enough to say no to her, ay?" he said with a chuckle nodding them out as your eyes widened, and a smile flashed across your face at the touching gesture, and Polly's keen memory of the flowers you would have the groundsmen plant rows of so you could adorn the rooms of Arrow house with their sweet perfume.
" Oh Mr Heath, thank you! You're ever so kind" you said, placing your hand on the curve of his shoulder as your eyes brimmed with tears at his gentle nature, unaware the whole interaction was being watched by your husband who was stood at his office window.
" Well, well. She seems to have a soft spot for your trusted gardener" the Governess said announcing her presence, snaking forward behind Tommy as his jaw tightened at the sound of her voice, his fists clenching furiously onto the windowsill Infront of him." She's often out there talking to him, for hours on end"
" Get out" he stated coldly as Tommy continued to watch you from afar, the Governesses words slowly sowing doubt into his already bombarded thoughts.
" Oh come on Tommy..." She purred, standing behind him as she watched you with William talking to the gardener, her breath hot against the back of his neck, sending a shivering chill down his spine " William's her priority now. She's moving on, time you did too. I see a little spark between them" she giggled, brushing her hands around his waist down to his belt whilst she rested her freshly powdered cheek on his back as a heavy release of anger quickly heated the tips of Tommy's ears from her continued refusal to accept his disinterest in her.
"Keep your vapid thoughts to yourself!" he spat, pulling her talons off him as he marched to his office door puffing furiously on his cigarette before swinging it open for her to leave.
" She doesn't want you Tommy" she teased, her icy glare matching his own as she sauntered past him, taking the cigarette from his mouth then blowing the fumes over his lips before your husband furiously slammed the door and returned back to the window, back to his troubled mind.
Heavy with anger, the Governesses words had left a bitter taste in his spiraling thoughts as he slipped into paranoia. Was this your way to get back at him for the Governess? A fling with one of his staff? He thought to himself, watching your hand drop from the gardener's shoulder, your muffled laughs loud enough to be heard from where he was stood. What was so funny? Were you laughing at him? He fumed with jealousy, his eyes fixed solely on your every movement, ignoring the real reason for your joyful mood.
" William, no darling!" You said with a chuckle, turning to face your two-year-old who had taken a liking to the flower he had picked so much, it was now fully enclosed in his mouth with only the stem sticking out.
"We'll leave those for the horses, ay William?" the gardener laughed, ruffling his dark locks as you pulled the fully intact flower from within his plump cheeks. " I'll have my boys plant some more roses this weekend for you Mam. We'll soon have the gardens looking as they once did" Mr Heath promised, turning back with pride at the flower bed he had spent the previous days planning with you, a little something to help you remember things could be how they once were, given enough time to flower.
" Thank you, Mr Heath" you said, looking around the garden when your eyes darted past Tommy stood at the window in the distance with a cloud of smoke bellowing in front his face, a displeased look etched into his furrowed brow. " Shall we get you inside?" you said glancing away from your husband to your son, wondering what you had done now to have him looking so vexed.
" It's good to have you back Mam" Mr Heath nodded his head to you with a smile as you turned to leave.
" It's good to be home" you called back, adjusting William on your hip as you watched your husband in the corner of your eye, following your every step as you made your way back inside, and unknowingly to face his sour temper.
" Y/N!" Tommy bellowed your name as he came marching towards you when Frances quickly inserted herself between you both, noting the Governess lurking behind the door of the library watching.
" Did you enjoy the flowers Miss Gray had planted for the new garden you've been planning with Mr Heath, Mrs Shelby?" Frances quickly interrupted Tommy before he said something he would later undoubtedly regret. For Tommy's once notorious stoic demeanor had rapidly turned into one of anger since your return. The likely culprit to this sudden change in behavior, still watching down in the corridor, adding more fuel to the flames of your already burning marriage.
" It's beautiful. I must remember to call and thank her" you replied, turning to face your husband with a quizzical brow, watching him turn his head away with a deep sigh as his fingers came up to pinch the tightened skin on the bridge of his nose.
" Mr Shelby, is there something I can help you with?" Frances asked as you both waited, watching the wheels turn in his eyes while he stood with his hands on his hips, head cast down feeling stupid for letting the viper he needed to be rid of slither her way into his paranoia.
"The er, the cake..." he said clearing his throat as he looked up, his eyes darting between you and Frances as you furrowed your brow at his unusual stuttering manner. What had gotten into him?
" Yes Mr Shelby?" Frances replied with a dutiful smile.
" What...what did Mr Giles use this time?" he asked, shifting his weight from one foot to the other as his eyes quickly darted to you then back to your head housekeeper.
"Oh, I wouldn't know Mr Shelby. It was your wife that baked it this week" she said looking to you as you glanced up from smoothing down the jumper bunched up around William's chest whilst he curiously pulled at the pearl dangling from your earring.
" Brandy" you replied as a silence uncomfortably sat between you both while Frances watched on in desperation for you to both reunite, and bring peace and the love you shared back to Arrow House.
" Right" he replied quietly as his eyes lingered on you, gazing between your glossy lips and doe eyes looking up at him through your full lashes. " Right..." he repeated once again before suddenly turning for the front door.
" What...what on earth was all that about?" You asked your housekeeper as a look of puzzlement crossed your face from your husband's chaotic interaction with you.
" I'm not sure Mam" Frances replied guiding you away before glancing back to see a smirk of enjoyment flash across the Governesses lips, her eyes unnervingly narrowing in on her.
With an uncomfortable feeling of dread and unease weighing down her stomach, Frances watched the library door close, and the woman she had clocked onto slip away. What was she up to?
"Soon, William. Just another hour" you sighed, looking up at the clock as your son furiously stomped his feet, throwing his teddy your way with a wail of cries. No snacking, he's on a strict schedule. The Governesses words rang in your ears as you looked back at the ticking hands of the clock, convinced they were purposely going slower than normal. " How about we play with your new train set while we wait for dinner? Yeh?" you said energetically as you stood up from the nursery floor, hoping your enthusiasm would distract him from his rumbling belly. Holding out for his reaction, you waited and watched as he blinked away his tears, then dramatically threw himself to the floor, thrashing about like a crocodile in the throes of a death roll. " Right, you win" you declared, deciding a small snack was nothing worth battling over with a two-year-old as you picked him up and marched to the door and down the staircase. " I'm your mummy, and if you want a snack only one hour before dinner then...well, you can have a bloody snack" you said with determination, ignoring the Governesses rules that were anything but what she claimed to be "polite recommendations".
" Can I help you Mam?" The young kitchen aid Billy asked you as you started rummaging through the many cupboards, while simultaneously stopping Williams curious hands from putting everything and anything in his mouth for a drooling, toothy toddler taste test.
"Do we have any dried fruit, biscuits, bread?" You turned to ask him with a flustered face placing William down, your son instantly making a beeline for a large packet of flour. " William, wait!" you said as he opened the contents, pouring it over the tiled floor.
" Uh oh" he said with his hands out behind a puff of flour filling the air.
" Uh oh, indeed" you said covering your mouth from the giggles you were unable to hold back as you and Billy both looked down at your two-year-old emerging from the cloud of white dust that had settled around him.
" What's going on in here?" The Governess snapped, stood at the door as you patted the flour from your child's clothes. " Billy, clean this up" she demanded as you picked up your son and placed him on the kitchen table, dusting the remaining powdery kitchen staple from his brown locks. " Mrs Shelby. Your presence brings quite the chaos doesn't it?" she said as you sharply turned back to the cupboards, your patience reaching it's limits with her constant undermining of you. " His dinner is in under an hour" she reminded you as she frowned at the various jars and boxes of food you had pulled out from within the kitchen cabinets.
"He's been hungry for a few hours now. Something small won't hurt him before it's ready" you replied with as much assertiveness you could muster, waiting for her next snarky remark.
"Hours? I didn't tell you to starve the poor child. You're his mother, surely you know what he needs?" she replied, her cruel words hitting the little remaining self-confidence you had left as you bent down to William's eye level, his sweet face smiling back at you enough to keep the tears from starting, and the strength to say what needed to be said.
" I am his mother" you said, standing up, placing your arm protectively around your child's back. " And from today, I don't want to hear any more of your council, nor opinions on how I raise him. Know your place, and stay out of my parenting, and marriage" you finished with a labored breath, your heart rapidly pounding in your chest as you tried to keep your firmness on the matter from falling under the nerves coursing through your body.
"Billy, Mr Giles wants you! " She snapped, turning her piercing glare to the young kitchen aid stood nervously watching at the end of the table.
" But I have to finish up..."
" Now!" she barked, uncrossing her arms as she pulled a small jar of hazelnuts and various dried fruits from the shelf behind her as the young worker hurried past her, his eyes darting to the items of food she had placed on the large wooden table before he shut the door behind him. "Mrs Shelby?" She said pushing the food towards you, as you looked up from your son.
"Here we go, sweetheart" you said with a smile as you reached for the jar of nuts, crushing one between the heel of your hand and the table for him." Good?" You asked as he held his hand out for more, excitedly kicking his feet back and forth.
" Slow down" you giggled as your son delved his hand into the jar whilst you crushed another of the sweet earthy hazelnuts for you to share. "Slowly William" you said furrowing your brow as he began to cough, and your eyes darted around the kitchen for a jug of water as the Governess stood quietly watching. " William here, drink" you said placing a small cup to his lips when a feeling of unease settled in your stomach and your heart rapidly fluttered within you chest at the sound of yours sons sudden, unexpected wheezing. "William...William?" You panicked rubbing his back as his little lungs forcefully strained each labored breath out." Get help!" You cried looking to the Governess as you scooped up your son into your arms, his stifled cries of pain sending your body into a dizzying daze as your ears filled with a piercing ringing.
"What did you give him?!" Tommy shouted, storming through the kitchen moments later with Frances quickly following behind him as you stood there in shock, frantically trying to ease your child's cries.
" Wha...what's happening? Tommy?" You stuttered out between your rapid thoughts as you tried to answer your husband, when Tommy grabbed him from within your arms and placed him down on the cool slabbed floor, pulling his jumper off him.
" What did you fucking give him?!" Your husband screamed at you as his eyes darted up from the blotchy pink rashes covering your child's heaving chest and stomach.
" I...I..." You cried as you picked up the crushed hazelnut on the table next to you as Tommy's eyes suddenly widened in a panic.
" Get the fucking car!" Tommy shouted picking William up in his arms, cradling his limp body tightly against his chest as he ran outside, the Governess feet behind him.
" Frances?..." Your voice trembled as your eyes blinked through the tears welled in your lashes.
" You didn't know, dear. Quick, he needs you" she beckoned you forward from the state of shock welding your feet to the ground.
With a surge of adrenaline pushing you forward and out the front door, you watched as your husband carried your son into the car as the Governess slipped into the seat beside him.
"William!" You cried, as your shaky body frantically ran to them, stumbling forward until your hands landed on the boot of the car. " I'm here...William I'm here" you sobbed as your trembling fingers guided you around the Bentley, only for the Governess to slam the door shut in your face before quickly winding the window up. " Wait, wait!" You cried banging your fists on the glass, trying to garner your husband's attention who was in his own panicked daze as he tried to ease your sons discomfort.
" Go" the Governess instructed the driver as she wrapped her arm around your husbands shoulder, flashing you a look of disgust and contempt before the car drove off in a haste, leaving you in a heap of strangled cried in the muddied grass.
An allergic reaction, something any mother would have know. Something you should have known. But you didn't. And as you watched the car speed away, you felt your body cave in on itself as the weight of the grave error you had made plunged you into the depths of the ground below you, dragging you into nothing but hopelessness and despair. You were his mother... you should have known.
Four hours had passed since your husband had rushed your son to the nearest hospital. And as you sat in the icy bath you had plunged yourself into over two hours ago, you stayed motionless, numb from the thousands of needles pricking your skin as you stared blankly at the droplets of water dripping from the tap at the end of the bath, counting them as they echoed loudly in the empty darkened room.
" Mrs Shelby! My goodness!" You'll freeze to death" Frances gasped upon entering the room, throwing the neatly folded linen in her arms to the floor before pulling the plug from the bath and you along with it.
"Is he dead? Frances... Is he dead?" your voice trembled as you snapped out of your dazed state at the feeling of a warm towel being tightly wrapped around your freezing body.
" William is well, Mam" She replied as she pulled you towards her, frantically rubbing your arms up and down in an attempt to warm your body up. " Mr Shelby is waiting for you in the nursery. He wants to speak with you"
"No. I can't, Frances...not after this. He'll kill me" you panicked as you clutched tightly onto her arm, pulling yourself and her away from the door, away from the anger you feared your husband had for you.
" He'll do nothing of the sort" she reassured your paranoid mind, slowly guiding your reluctant feet to the master bedroom to dress, and the welcoming burning fire she had lit for you.
" I do like to be beside the seaside, oh I do like to be beside the sea" you heard your husband quietly sing as William slept soundly in his arms whilst you watched from the door of the nursery. "Shh, my boy" he said, turning to see you as you shifted nervously from one foot to the other under the moonlight beaming through the windows as he placed William gently into his cot.
" I'm sorry. I...I didn't know" you sobbed quietly as your husband stood with his hands resting on his waist, his face tired and drained from the day's events.
" We need to talk" he said, raising his brow with his hand out pointing to you as he watched you step back and away from him.
" I didn't know Tommy..." you cried, slowly walking backwards until your body hit the door and your fingers frantically reached for the handle behind you as your husband stared you down.
" You gonna run, eh? That's what you do, don't you?" He said following you, his eyes challenging you with every step you took as you stumbled past the furniture of your master bedroom. "Run when things get hard..." his voice rose when you turned and bolted out the door and down the corridor. " Y/N!" Tommy's voice bellowed down the stairs as he ran after you, watching you push the heavy front door open into the night air. " No! I'm not gonna let you do this again!" He shouted catching up, firmly grabbing your arm as you tossed and turned in his grip.
" Tommy stop!" You screamed, pushing him off you as you stumbled back, your lungs scrambling for air from the anguished cry that had left your lips. " I can't...I can't do this anymore. I'm not fit to be his mother. I could've killed him" you wept breathlessly as you clutched onto the brick wall gating your home.
"You didn't know..."
"I should have though! Why did you bring me back here, Tommy?! Why? You should have left me!" you shouted at him, hitting him across his chest, furious that he had thrown you back into the situation you once fled from after having convinced yourself your presence only brought dread and chaos to the ones you loved the most.
" Left you? You wanted me to fucking leave you?! Do you want to see what you left me with, eh?" Tommy bellowed, as he grabbed you by your arms, stopping your weak blows before dragging you by the wrist to a gated, enclosed area at the back of the house. "There. That's what you left me with" he spat, pushing you through the gate to a stoned monument adorned with carved roses cascading down it's side, your name intricately etched into the marble. " An empty fucking grave Y/N!" He yelled, the force of his words taking his breath away as his body hunched over, heaving for air.
"Tom..." You cried turning to face him, desperately reaching for him.
" Filled with your clothes, pictures of me and William. A tomb without a fucking body" he said, running his hands through his hair as he looked at the marked grave. "He cried for you every night you were gone. I...I didn't know what to do Y/N, he wanted his mother. But you were gone, dead" Tommy sniffed, letting his barrier finally drop as tears welled in his eyes, and he lulled his head back, desperately trying to get a hold on his escaping emotions. "Do you know how that felt, eh? That I couldn't take his tears away, that his own father couldn't settle him?" He said through gritted teeth letting his head drop, letting you see the depths of despair you had left him in. "Two years Y/N. Two fucking years...Why?" He finally gave into the conversation he had been avoiding for over a fortnight.
I...I couldn't cope anymore " you sobbed as you cautiously stepped closer to him with your hands out. " You were never here, I..."
" So it was my fault then?" He quickly interjected, shaking his head with a scoff.
" No! No Tommy" you hurried to correct him, gingerly reaching up to cup his cheeks as you turned his head to face you. " I needed your help. I should have asked for your help" you sniffed as you desperately searched your muddled thoughts for the answers he rightfully deserved. " I felt lost, Tommy. Confused. I didn't understand why I couldn't do what other women did so naturally, when all I've ever wanted to be, all I've ever dreamt of being was a mother. And I couldn't do it, Tommy. I couldn't fucking do it!" You broke down, your fingers grasped tightly onto the front of his shirt. " I'm sorry, I'm so sorry..." you wept loudly, your body shaking furiously from the heartache you had put both yourself and your family through with your actions.
Unable to withstand the torment of seeing the woman he loved so broken, so fragile, he pulled you into his chest, wrapping his arms tightly around you as he placed a pressing kiss to your head.
" You were doing it though. You couldn't see it, but you were doing everything any mother would have done, sweetheart" he sighed, threading his hand through your hair as he closed his eyes, his longing body starved of your warmth loosening in the comfort of you. "I should..." He sighed as he looked up at the night sky, a gentle breeze drifting past him cooling his simmering temper. " I should have been there. Done more" he said as he cupped your head to look at him. " I should have done more Y/N" he reiterated as his thumb swiped over the tears pooled above your cheeks.
" Forgive me Tommy...please" You sobbed, pressing your forehead to his as you linked your hands tightly around his neck, desperately holding out for his forgiveness.
" I've never had a reason to, darling" he sighed, cradling the side of your head against his thundering heart, his love for you beating rapidly through his chest. For as much as Tommy's troubled mind had put the brunt of your shared problems on your shoulders alone. His heart never betrayed him, never stopped loving you, never once blamed you for the troubled emotions he knew were out of your reach of control.
As you both sat down on the step of the marble headstone, you rested your tired body in your husband's strong frame as he looked up at the glittering sky, silently thanking the unknown for the peace he finally felt having you wrapped in his arms once again. But Tommy's peace would be short-lived. A storm was coming to Arrow house, its maker watching from the window of her room as her face twisted with fury, her bitter mind gleeful of the hell she would bring down on this grand house and everyone in it.
" You fool Thomas Shelby. You fool..
PART FIVE
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if you could do like a dumbification reader and thomas shelby i’d die happy please and thank u :)
Hi anon, thank u sm for requesting!! Hope you like it <3
Think Straight
Tommy Shelby x Fem!Reader
! Smut Warning !
Tags: Dumbificiation, P in V, Unprotected Sex, Cream Pie
"You just couldn't think of anything else, could you?" Tommy scoffed, wooden door rattling shut behind the pair of you.
Your linen coated back pressed up to the wood, a familiar set of eyes honing in on your own.
"Wanted me to fuck you, is that it?" He spoke, raising one complacent brow. His hands immediately found your waist, drawing your eager bodies closer to one and other.
An intense arousal simmered between your legs, triumphant in the knowledge you'd be getting what you'd longed for. You could resist sporting a smile, nodding softly in response.
"Tommy," You began, unsure where you'd even take the sentence, though before you had time to contemplate the matter, Tommy slid a single finger into your mouth.
"Shh," He hushed, "I've heard enough from you."
Your eyes widened momentarily, feeling the callous pad of his thumb roll onto your tongue.
Using the unoccupied hand to lower the waistband of his trousers, he released his hard length with a low, relieved groan, feeling you whimper slightly against his thumb.
You reached out a hand, impatient to have him against your palm, though he dismissed it with a hint of a smirk, "So eager, eh?"
Tommy wasn't wrong; you were. Despite his presence being right before you, it wasn't enough. It wouldn't be until he was inside you.
Sliding one vacant hand beneath your skirt, he pulled the sodden cotton of your panties aside, completely baring you to his touch. "Fuck," He uttered, "You're soaking."
You murmured something practically unintelligible against his thumb as it lay against your tongue.
"Do what you're good for a spread those legs for me." Tommy commanded, a blatantly clear sense of amusement laced in his tone. And it was driving you beyond wild.
You hastily obeyed, parting your thighs, curious eyes flitting directly to the piercing pair before you.
He seized his thick, bare length within his hand, angling his tip with your drenched, welcoming cunt. With a deep, gruff groan, Tommy slid right past your drenched walls, stretching your tight cunt.
Tenderly, you moaned against his thumb once again as he filled you so flawlessly. Your heavy lids screwed together with nothing but sheer pleasure as he planted his first thrust, rocking you against the door. You instinctively swung your legs round his pelvis, desperate to feel him further.
"Gonna fuck all the thoughts out that pretty little head, eh?" Tommy assured, the pulse of his tip hitting tauntingly in your soaked pussy as his hips bucked up.
Your lips sealed as his thumb slithered from the warmth of your mouth, grabbing handfuls of your behind with both large, splayed hands. Your head lolled back, finding rest against the door, teeth sinking ferociously into your lower lip. You clenched around him, squeezing his length as his hips jerked erratically, lips curving into a slight smirk at your noises.
"Poor thing." Tommy mock frowned, "Can't think straight can you?"
You whined with broken breaths, shaking your head less than subtly, mouth falling open as his thick tip striking your g spot in a perfect rhythm. You writhed a little as he gave your ass another squeeze, arousal spiking even higher.
"That's it, all you can do is take it, hm?" He teased, greedily pulling your heat against him with each escalating thrust, "Making a pretty little mess of yourself on my cock, eh?""
His words merely fuelled the sultry fog in your head, sopping cunt twitching around his shaft,
"F-fuck.." You practically babbled out, "So good.."
"I know," Tommy chuckled in acknowledgment, switching one hand to gently cup the flush of your cheek, "Making that perfect cunt feel so good, isn't that right?"
Suddenly, the very same hand was shifting between your legs, fingertips toying with the drastic swell of your clit, only enhancing your pleasure.
Your eyes couldn't resist but flutter shut, back hollowing an arch against the door.
"Look at that.. all fucked out." He taunted, entirely unable to do anything except lust over the sight of you, watching wildly as his cock brought you closer and closer.
His skilful digits didn't relent upon playing with your swollen clit, drawing the most intoxicating moans from your throat. His bare length twitched inside you with each following thrust, evidently losing composure.
"You want me to fill this sweet little cunt?" Tommy grunted, edging nearer and nearer as your walls spasmed around him, "Give you something to think about for once?"
Nodding, you uttered trails of quiet, messy 'pleases' between your shallow panting, feeling an euphorically familiar knot become apparent in your stomach, winding tighter and tighter as you were so fulfillingly stretched around Tommy's cock.
As the pressure of his fingers quickened against your sensitive cunt, the knot so suddenly snapped, body shaking as you were hit by the ferocity of your orgasm.
Your now over-responsive pussy quivered weakly, a loud moan escaping you, Tommy doing the same. With one faulty rock of his hips, a familiarly warm burst found your cunt.
Chest rising and falling rather dramatically, your breaths gradually grew steadier.
Tommy studied you intently, offering a proud smile as he snaked a hand upwards, gently tapping the side of your head, tutting, "Nothing going on up there, hm love?"
Thank you for reading and hope you enjoyed! Please feel free to use the requests/asks feature on my page - it’d be so greatly appreciated!
#smut#smutty#drabbles#oneshot#peaky blinders#peaky blinders smut#tommy shelby#thomas shelby#tommy shelby smut#tommy shelby x you#tommy shelby x reader#thomas shelby smut#thomas shelby x you#thomas shelby x reader
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Business As Usual (Part Three)
Pairing: Dark!Thomas Shelby x Wife!Reader
Warning: Dubious Consent, Reluctant Smut, Loss of Virginity, Arranged Marriage, Religious Themes, Angst, Termination, Pregnancy
Words: 3,500
NOTE: THIS IS MUCH DARKER THAN WHAT I USUALLY WRITE. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED!
*** The Consummation of Marriage***
“Alright Love. Why the fuck not” Tommy said as his gaze dropped.
“You will give me the US division of the business?” you ought to clarify before retreating slightly and placing your half empty glass onto the nearby study desk.
“What fucking choice do I have, eh?” Tommy then asked and, by this point, he was already awfully close to you.
“Okay. Right. Now, should I get myself ready so that…” you then stammered a little nervously, causing Tommy to furrow his eyebrows.
“Ready for what?” he wondered and, again, you nervously stammered out an explanation.
“We just talked about this, Thomas” you began to say but he interrupted you.
“We did, and I do not want to draw this out for any longer than I have to. Let’s just get it over and done with, eh?” Tommy asked and, of course, you agreed.
“That’s perfectly fine by me” you thus said, trying to appear confident whereas, the truth was, that you were not.
“Good” Tommy said. “Now, turn around” he ordered and this caught you by surprise.
“Excuse me?” you asked as you weren’t sure what he wanted you to do.
“Turn around. It will be quicker that way” he then said and, again, you nodded, this time more reluctantly than before.
“Sure” you said almost nervously before turning around and placing your palms on to the large desk now in front of you, waiting for what was to come next.
But, what came next surprised you as, suddenly, you felt your husband’s hands on your back, pushing your upper body down until your clothed breasts laid flat against the cold oak.
And then his weight was against your back, his hands on your hips, and you began to wonder how someone so lean could be so strong when you felt it.
“Are you sure about this Love?” he then asked again and affirmed that this was indeed what you wanted.
“I am sure, although I didn’t expect it to happen quite like this” you then told him and Tommy chuckled slightly.
“Listen Love, you asked me to make it quick and I can assure you that it will be quick, but only if we do it my way. I have no desire to make love to you. I will simply fuck you and then I will be on my way. Now, do I have your consent?” Tommy then asked and you, again, gave your consent.
“Yes. You have my consent” you said, holding back your tears just as your husband bunched your skirt up in his hands and pulled it up.
“Your ass is actually not that bad” Tommy then said almost cheekily while you gasped at the sudden feeling of air on your upper thighs as he flipped the fabric over your back, exposing your lace covered panties.
“Just shut up and do what you need to do” you responded while still fighting your tears. You were glad that he couldn’t see your face like this as, clearly, you had no intention of appearing vulnerable to him.
“I was just giving you a compliment Love” Tommy chuckled before, in one hard move, he pulled your underwear all the way down your thighs.
“I don’t need compliments from you, although a warning would have been nice” you gasped as you moved away from him slightly but Tommy quickly grabbed your hips and adjusted your position again.
He brought you further back towards him and yanked your legs apart slightly before instructing you to stay still.
“Don’t move” he growled just before his hand went right in between your legs and he ran a finger through your slit.
You winced at his touch and, whilst it felt interesting to be touched by someone else other than yourself, you were not aroused and were not quite sure what he was looking for but whatever it was, he did not find it.
“You're barely wet at all, Love” Tommy then said just as you heard the clink of his belt being undone.
“Am I meant to be?” you asked as, by now, your heart threatened to fly out of your chest.
“Considering the circumstances, probably not” Tommy then said while undoing his zipper and pushing down his pants and brief in go.
Unlike you, he was aroused but then again, getting aroused was not exactly difficult for him. He was a sex driven individual and visited local brothels quite frequently for easy and problem free relief.
Thus, he was also rather experienced and knew what needed to be done for a woman to enjoy herself although, with you, he seemingly couldn’t be bothered as, without loosing any time, he licked his fingers before applying his saliva onto your somewhat dry core so that he could penetrate you more easily.
It was at this time that, finally, the tears came in full force and, after Tommy removed his hand from you, you felt something hot and hard parting the lips of your slit.
It felt strange to say the least and you always expected your first time to be different and romantic in a way. You might have never been with a man, but you were a woman grown and had touched yourself before which, too, felt different.
At times, you even slid your own fingers inside of your body, but nothing compared to this as your husband pushed against your opening.
Now, all you could feel was burning until, eventually, your pussy gave in with a surge of pain.
You bit your tongue, teeth clenching, as Tommy penetrated you from behind and the tears did not stop, which luckily for you, he couldn’t see.
“Fuck Love, you are tight” Tommy said as you felt every painful centimetre of his cock being forced into you. The sensation was like sandpaper against your insides as, unceremoniously, you felt him ripping through your maidenhead.
The pain was a stab all the way from the innermost parts of you and, just as you swallowed your gasp, your knees began to give way.
There was no getting out of this now so you closed your eyes, clenched your jaw, and tried to just get through it.
Eventually, you felt Tommy’s hips touch your rear while, at the same moment, you felt him reach something deep inside your core.
“Please, just hurry up. I am not exactly enjoying this” you pleaded as Tommy ground his hips against you while the head of his cock nestled against your cervix, sending another wave of pain across your abdomen.
“It would be easier if you were stop moving around” Tommy then told you as he pulled out slightly and then pushed back in, hitting that spot inside again.
Every time he bottomed out inside of you, Tommy groaned but all you could register was the hard wall against your front and the burning ache in your privates growing momentarily sharp every time he thrust, even though he was not rough or too fast. In and out, in and out, dry drag and burning push, until a few minutes later the pain began to dull just the slightest bit, which you supposed meant your body had finally caught up and decided to help.
After a while, Tommy had picked up a little speed, with the new aid of your wetness. The pain in your entrance dulled slightly and left your vividly aware of the pain of that spot inside, low in your stomach.
“Just a little bit more Love. I am almost there” he groaned and panted behind you but you could not say anything and simply tried to focus on something else.
Somewhere in the pain and the shame, you felt lost. You just wanted this to be over and, luckily for you, after just a few minutes of thrusting in and of you, Tommy was close. The sounds he made were growing more and more heated and, by what you could feel inside of you, Tommy had began to really pick up speed now.
"I'm close” he eventually said. His voice was hoarse by now, near a pan and, with all the pain, you had no words left.
Eventually though you cried out inadvertently as, with one deep thrust, Tommy groaned loudly and hilted himself all the way inside. He forced his cock into you hardly and the force pushed you on your toes, stabbing that spot inside of you with all his might.
“Fuck” he groaned as he came and you knew that had spilled himself inside of you as you felt the wicked warmth of his cum spreading across your burning walls.
When he was done, he sighed. He was content and spent and, after a few moments, he rocked his hips. And again. Slowly, gently, a little thrust, then another, pushing his seed deeper inside of you.
You whined. The pain might have dulled, but it hadn't stopped and, when he finally pulled out of you, you sighed with relief whereas Tommy, on the other hand, was met with shock and regret.
“Fuck Y/N! Why didn’t you tell me?” he asked almost angrily as he noticed the streaks of blood that had mixed with his cum, covering both his cock and your pussy.
“Tell you what?” you asked after wiping your tears away.
“That I am your first! Fuck! I would have been…” Tommy yelled after cleaning himself off, pulling up his pants and slamming his fist onto the desk just before you interrupted him.
“You would have been more careful or little bit gentle perhaps?” you chuckled, wiping away the tears that you were unable to hold back.
“Yes. Obviously” Tommy sighed before handing you his handkerchief. Let’s talk about this” he then said but you shook your head.
“Talk about what? There is nothing to talk about Thomas! It had to be done and I didn’t want you to have pity on me. This is a business transaction now. No more and no less” you told him and this comment you made irritated him even more.
“Fine” he said before walking towards the door. “You are fucking insane, you know that? Perhaps Pol was wrong about you” Tommy then spat and slamming the door behind him as he left.
Just as he had left however, you just cried against the wall, trying to ignore the warm wet feeling inside of you and trying to ignore his words.
Did he actually care about you? Did you, just perhaps, push him too far?
*** Backflash to Wedding Reception ***
For some reason, you despised him and it was your new aunt Pol who had given you hope just after you told her that you may as well be dead. Obviously, she spoke with your husband as well and this made you wonder.
Polly Gray was her name and she assured you during the wedding reception that Thomas was not as terrible as you had thought. According to her, your new husband was known to do bad things to a good end and him marrying you was just that.
He tried to look after his family and the business by making this deal and, according to her, he offered your family many things in order to get out of this marriage, all of which they refused.
“It must be a mafia thing” she said as she knew that your mother and uncles wanted him to marry your older sister but ended up marrying you instead. You wanted to protect her after all she had been through in the past and you knew that, even though you were the youngest sibling in your family, you were also the mature and smartest.
Your father had always called you a “gifted fighter” and told you that, unfortunately for your family, neither your brother nor your cousins or uncles possessed what it took to run this business.
He wanted to take his drug and liquor empire to another level and this was exactly where Thomas Shelby came into the picture.
Unbeknownst to you, Thomas and your father had worked together for more than six years after Thomas killed a man by the name of Luca Changratta.
Luca Changratta was a rival business man who did what Tommy was doing now, and it was your father who had put the mechanisms into place to unite the families following his death. It was a smart thing to do as the Shelbies weren’t Italian and, just like your father, aunt Polly told you that Thomas was a man of his word.
“You will see that he won’t bother you much Love. He will not touch you unless you want him to and you will have all the luxuries you can imagine” Polly said before realising herself that this is not what you wanted.
“I don’t like being reduced to someone’s wife and I certainly don’t care about diamonds and pretty dresses” you explained before telling her outright that it was your father’s business that you were after.
“Then make this marriage work to your advantage. Tommy is a business man and you may work well together” she told you but you shook your head.
“I doubt that very much. The sheer fact that he married me for financial gain means that our values do not align” you explained while taking yet another sip from your glass of champagne.
���That may not be true Y/N. Unlike your family, my family likes to empower women and, if you go about it the right way, then perhaps you can work with us as part of our company as well as your father’s company” Polly explained but, again, you shook your head.
“My uncles won’t allow that” you chuckled, seeing that, at least in your family, women were frowned upon.
“With Tommy being part of your family now, they will soon realise that they have lost all authority over their businesses. He has his ways of making people bend to his will and, if you play your cards right, they will bend to yours also” Polly then suggested and you wondered why she was being so nice to you.
“Why are you telling me this?” you thus asked and she explained.
“Because you are smart and us women need to work together in order to conquer the world” she told you and this well and truly made you smile for the first time that night.
“Well Miss Gray, you are quite unlike any other woman I have met”
“Call me Polly, Love. We are family now”
“Not quite yet. There is still one thing that has to be done which I am not looking forward to”
“Tommy wouldn’t lay a hand on you Love”
“If he want’s this marriage then, I am afraid, he will have to” you told your new aunt just as the clock stroke nine and the announcement was made that the ceremony was about to come to end.
It was now time for you to consummate the union with your new husband while the guests had the option to leave the party or stay in the function hall of your new mansion, which was located just outside of London.
“You must be joking?” your aunt asked as your mother asked her elected witness to come forward and you quickly managed to down a glass of whiskey at this point.
“No, I am afraid not. It’s a tradition that came to fruition a few hundred years ago and for some fucked up reason it is still practised by my family and their congregation to this day” your explained a slightly tipsy state, knowing that you needed alcohol to get through this.
“That’s ironic really, considering that your very own family uses the churches in Boston and Chicago to store their cocaine. Surely, they can’t be that fanatic” Polly exclaimed just as Tommy came by, followed right by the woman who was your long standing family doctor.
“What is going?” Tommy asked, causing Polly to grin.
“Apparently you get to consummate your marriage now, so have fun” she joked, but Tommy simply rolled his eyes.
“Funny” he said before trying to walk off again, which is when you reached for his hand.
“She isn’t joking I am afraid” you sighed before making Tommy follow you to your material bedroom.
*** The Present Day ***
And there you were, crying again, as the memories of recent weeks came crawling back into your mind.
You recalled your rather painful wedding night and how your husband left the house for an entire week thereafter without even bothering to introduce you to his son.
You recalled how your very own husband then decided not to keep his promise to you. He took away the import and export division of your business and, instead, he put a woman called Laura Manning into charge. Now, he was even sleeping with her and, whilst you did not mind him sleeping with whores, this was the ultimate betrayal for you.
And then, finally, you recalled that horrible morning two weeks ago, when you woke up nauseous and unable to eat.
It was that same awful morning that you found out that you were with child and you never told anyone, not even your husband.
There was only one person who knew and this was the man you trusted more than those in your own family. He was a doctor in London and you had worked with him on several charity projects downtown, including a new hospital that had been sponsored by the Grace Shelby Foundation.
Charity work kept you sane as it was the only kind of work your husband permitted you to do and it was now also the kind of work that made you befriend this stranger named Frank.
But even Frank refused to help you now and you knew that, what you were asking him to do, was illegal.
You had asked him to terminate your pregnancy. You could not bear carrying Thomas Shelby’s child after all he had done to you but there was no one who was willing to take the risk and carry out this dangerous procedure.
In the same vein, you also wanted a divorce but there was also no lawyer who was willing to take the case and your husband was very well aware of that.
You were stuck and wondered whether, somehow, you could go away and leave this life behind after just a few weeks but then you thought about it again.
You were much stronger than that and you knew that you would not allow a man to ruin you.
You were a “gifted fighter” and putting up a fight was what you were going to do.
***
With that in mind, you made your way to London and, in London, you sought out a woman who you knew nothing about. Her name was Elizabeth Stark and, just a year ago, she divorced your very own husband.
You wrote to her after finding out about your pregnancy and she agreed to meet with you after having had a letter delivered to you through Frank’s address.
She was cautious, of course, but she also knew that you needed her help and possibly some guidance.
When you met her in a café, you were rather surprised. She was dressed nicely and looked incredibly attractive. She featured dark curly hair and her skin was white as snow.
“I am Y/N” you said, having recognised her from the photographs which you found in Tommy’s office.
“Call me Lizzie” she said after offering you a seat.
“You are much younger than I had expected. I am truly surprised that Tommy…you know…never mind…” she then acknowledged and, of course, it was at this point that you told her that your marriage to Tommy didn’t came about out of love. It was a marriage that had formed part of a business deal and this information made Lizzie sigh deeply.
“It’s never love for Tommy. He loved Grace but he isn’t going to love anyone else and the sooner you realise that, the happier you will be. Tommy is all about business and money and fucking whores. He won’t ever care about you just as he never really cared about me” Lizzie then explained with great frustration and you couldn’t help but feel a little relieved about hearing this from someone else. According to her, he married her because she was pregnant with his child and felt as though it was the right thing to do for his political image.
“What happened to your child?” you asked and, as you did, Lizzie broke out in tears.
“Our daughter died of consumption and fucking Tommy…” she began to say before gathering her thoughts. “Don’t ever have children with him. He loves them, but wherever he goes, there will always be danger” she then warned you and you immediately shed a few tears as well.
“I am pregnant” you admitted. “I don’t want to be, but I am. I don’t know what to do” you then sobbed and Lizzie took your hands into hers.
“Do you want to terminate?” she asked gently and you nodded.
“No one will do it. They are all too afraid of Tommy” you explained, crying.
“I know someone who will do it, but you can never tell Tommy, understood?” Lizzie asked and, of course, you nodded again.
To be continued…
Please comment and engage. I love getting comments and predictions pretty please!
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Little You-s and I-s
Thomas Shelby x Reader
Summary: You and Tommy deal with the changes that come with your pregnancy.
Your pregnancy changed you a lot.
You became more sensitive to smell for example.
One evening, Thomas arrived home from the bar, and as soon as you caught the smell of drinks and smoke on him, you rushed to the bathroom.
Then there was the incident when you craved fish but before you could cook it, the smell of it caught your nose and again, rushing for the toilet you went.
Thomas was incredibly happy when you told him the news, having his own family with you was always a goal of his.
What he didn't like however is just how sensitive you became and one thing that set it off easily was his cigarettes.
Thomas smoked a lot, so for him to not be able to do that in his own home was a bit challenging, but he still found ways to smoke one or two in the furthest part of the garden. Even then, sometimes the wind carried the smell right back to you.
"No smoking and no drinks!" yelled Tom at John as he pulled out a cigarette.
"What? Why?"
"My wife is pregnant, she is sensitive to the smell."
"Oooh, it got that bad huh?" asked John as you entered the room with a tray, on the tray there were some cookies and tea.
"I'll appreciate if you can hold yourself from smoking just this once John, the smell of it just..."
"No problem, thank you for the tea."
"I'll leave you to it." you smiled at your husband who nodded before he turned to John, talking about business.
When lunchtime was approaching, both John and Tom found themselves in the kitchen where you were currently chopping up some carrots and crying.
"Darling, I'm sure the carrots don't mind us eating them."
"Tell that to the headless chicken in the oven, Thomas!" you quickly said back making both men take a step back, Thomas should have known not to argue with you.
Both headed into the dining room instead.
"Is pregnancy supposed to affect a woman this much?" asked John in a hushed tone.
"I think so? I'm no expert John. Arthur has children, he might know more."
"She is glowing though. She was crying but she still looked like a Goddess."
"Can't argue with that, John. But keep your wandering eyes to yourself, she is my wife."
"Does she always cry during cooking?"
"As of late, yes. Yesterday, she made salmon, cried her heart about as she was talking about the poor little fishies the one she cooked left behind. But then this morning, she cried when she made salad. Saying the potatoes didn't deserve to die this way."
"So, she is sensitive to smell, cries when the cooks, can't get worse than that, I'd say."
"She talks back like I have never heard before."
"Okay, I was wrong it can get worse. You mean to tell me, that my lovely shy sister-in-law talks back? The one who didn't dare to tell you she didn't like the ring you gave her?" Thomas made a face at John's confession.
"She didn't like the ring?"
"No, she said she wished you would have given her something more simple. But she didn't want to tell you because she would hurt your feelings."
"Well now, with my child under her heart, she is not afraid to talk from her heart. The other day she told me I should dress better, apparently my suits make me look old. Then she wanted to dance and when I said I don't have the energy she complained that I never have when it comes to her. This is true sadly, however, the latest one... oh Johnny, my boy just before you arrived, she told me to ask you not to smoke and when I told her that you will be free to do as you please, the look. That look I know well, it's the look of someone who is about to murder. She said I either tell you to not smoke or-" Thomas stopped as he felt a shiver run down his spine, both men turned towards the door only to find you with the food in your hands on a tray.
You approached them and placed the food in front of them. The air was cold, John swore he could have cut the tension with a spoon.
"I told him he either asks you not to smoke or I will seriously question his position as the leader, as all leaders should be listened to and respected. And if he is not able to do so, then I shall take his place. So, you are not allowed to smoke John." John nodded, not even daring to look at you.
"Th-Thank you for the meal." John said.
"I know I can be a handful since I'm with child, I feel the change in myself, the doctor said it was hormones to blame, but I seriously hope you do not plan on talking our dear Johnny's ears off with my silliness, Dear Thomas. He doesn't have to know everything."
"Of course, Love. I apologize." Thomas grabbed your hand and placed a kiss on it.
John left soon after lunch and you were now washing the dishes as Tom was reading in the living room.
Once all dishes were done, you headed into the living room, a soft song playing as he was reading in his favourite armchair. He put the paper down when he saw you approach and you sat on his lap, your head on his chest as he continued to read with one hand as the other was now around you, comforting you.
"Am I really that annoying that you talk to John about it?"
"You are not annoying, Love. Odd, sometimes yes, but that isn't due to pregnancy." you giggled a little.
You were fine with 'odd'.
"I try to control it, you know?"
"Oh, God, is this the controlled version? I'm scared now for the uncontrolled one."
"It will get worse, I'm warning you because the doctor said last week that this will only grow as the baby does."
"It's alright, your body will change, I can take a few harsh words, I took bullets after all." he placed a kiss on your forehead.
"Do you want a girl or a boy?" you asked with a rather quiet voice.
"I don't really care, as long as both of you are safe and healthy."
"So you want a boy, got it." Tommy laughed you looked up at him, into his blue eyes. "I just want them to have your eyes."
"What if they don't?"
"Then we try until we have a child who does." you smiled at him as he looked at you.
"Just how many children my Missus want?"
"Oh, as many as my lovely husband would give me. We have a big house, it would be nice to have some life in it. Little you-s and I-s running around."
"I would like that. Honestly, I would like that very much. But let's see how you do after this one, then we will talk."
You hummed before you placed another kiss on his lips, letting him return to his paper as comfortable silence fell.
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#Thomas Shelby x reader#Thomas Shelby x you#Thomas Shelby imagine#Thomas Shelby imagines#Thomas Shelby#tommy shelby#tommy shelby x you#tommy shelby x reader#tommy shelby imagine#tommy shelby imagines#peaky blinders#peaky blinders imagine#peaky blinders imagines#peaky blinders x reader#peaky blinder fanfic#peaky blinder imagine#peaky blinder headcanon#cilian murphy character#pregnant reader#pregnancy
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Gone with the Leaves
Pairing: Tommy Shelby / Wife Reader
Summary: Despite your happy marriage to Tommy, you feel an undeniable jealousy towards Lizzie. Perhaps a day in the forest will do you some good.
ao3 link
A/N: I'm starting a tag list, comment if you want to be added :)
-
“You write like you’re running out of time,” mused Lizzie Stark, former prostitute, now Tommy’s secretary. “They have typewriters for those types of things, y’know?”
You saw the volley of cannonballs that launched and subsequently landed on Tommy’s desk as the words left her mouth. It wasn’t that you expected more of poor old plain Lizzie, but you thought that the time she had spent lying on her back staring past the shoulder of a customer at the ceiling would have taught her to read a room. Nevertheless, she stood there, quite amused with herself, smiling stupidly at your husband.
Tommy, who had been sitting at his desk all afternoon attending to letters, the ledger, and god knows what else, peered up from the paper. “What did you say?”
This time, it was your turn to be amused. He pointed accusingly at Lizzie, who by then had realised her impetuous mistake. Her wide eyes fluttered to you desperately, like a bee that had indulged itself in so much pollen that it became stuck in its own honey. No, that was putting it lightly. She looked to you like a frightened child who knew exactly what kind of trouble they were in.
You made sure you looked the other way.
“It was only a silly joke,” came her spluttering apology.
Tommy squinted, and his mouth curled into a frown. Smoke chased the deep exhale from the cigarette hanging between his lips. Your husband carried this terrifying look to him that many feared. Without the peaky cap to cover his striking blue eyes, you saw his glare cut away the cords in Lizzie’s throat with just one look. How could poor Lizzie defend herself from eyes that had witnessed nightmarish things?
“I’m not clear. Is it funny that I sign my letters by hand, or are you above using ink now that you have graduated from the bed to the desk?”
Lizzie’s mouth wormed into a thin line, yet she still looked to you for help. Of what help she thought you would possibly spare, you weren’t sure. For once, Lizzie used initiative and showed herself out.
Your heels clacked across the wooden threshold of your husband’s office. Now that no one was there to disturb you both, you sat down on Tommy’s lap. By then, he was leaning back on his chair, work abandoned for the time being until he could wash the sour sight of Lizzie Stark from his eyes.
“You know I don’t like her,” you said plainly.
There was no need for fake smiles or lies with Tommy. You knew him, and he knew you.
Tommy exhaled loudly, stubbing out the last of his cigarette on his ashtray and taking a swig of whiskey before his calloused hand found your waist.
He clears his throat. “It’s only business with her.”
“I know, but that doesn’t mean I like her any less.”
Tommy loved you, not Lizzie Stark, yet you couldn’t stomach the undeniable jealousy that arose with her presence. Perhaps it was a natural inclination women had toward their lovers. Lizzie had never done anything outwardly wrong to you. So, what was it then that turned your plain teeth into hissing fangs?
Everyone knew that Tommy was one of her paying customers before you met him, but so were all of Small Heath. You never felt insecure in your relationship with Tommy; there was no need to feel threatened by a prostitute. Yet that wouldn’t stop the catty feline that emerged from its slumber when Lizzie’s wandering eyes battered at your husband.
No. Lizzie Stark would never know what it felt like to be loved by a man like Tommy. What you held in your hands each night was a transcendental, unconditional type of love—one that surpassed the heart and soul, which drew two beings together in the most unconventional yet fitting way. The way that covers kept you warm at night, Tommy watched over your hearth and kept the fire burning, even if he were on the other side of the country.
You closed your eyes, leaning into the valley between Tommy’s neck and shoulder as you listened for the bah-dum-bah-dum of his heart. They sat together in silence, cherishing each other’s presence, while Tommy rested his cheek on your head. Outside, the world waited, barking at their front door and scratching at the delicately carved wood. Even the rain lashed at the windowpanes, playing together like one elemental orchestra.
The hand not resting on your waist rose to gently stroke up and down your arm. You shivered, but it wasn’t from the cold.
“I think you have some work to attend to in the bedroom,” you mumbled into his neck.
Your nose searched for the spot where he applied his aftershave.
“Eh?” Came his gruff response.
Your hand wandered down his suit in answer.
-
The sheets were bundled around Tommy’s naked waist when you sauntered back over to the bed with his case of cigarettes in hand. Gratefully, he took the case from your hand, wrapping an arm around your shoulder to pull you into the warmth of his chest. Then he began the usual routine. He fished out a cigarette to offer, but you shook your head no, so he slid it once, then twice, across his bottom lip. On the bedside table, he grabbed the half-empty matchbox to light the cigarette.
Tommy was the resident chain smoker in your house. With an appetite for tobacco and whiskey, you often wondered just how he sustained himself throughout the day. Of course, there were the home-cooked meals at Arrow House waiting for his return, although that didn’t stop you from worrying any less. It was pathetic, really, sitting all alone in his study, twiddling your fingers, and sitting beneath his portrait like you were praying to him. Tommy was no god, no matter how much he tried to convince everyone else. Yet whenever headlights passed the window and lit up the office momentarily, you would stand up and peer out, hoping to spot your husband exiting the car.
He cleared his throat, drawing your attention back to the present. You loved watching the way the cigarette shifted between his lips when he spoke, even more when his hooded eyes looked over at you. Tommy was a man of few words, simply because he didn’t need language to communicate. His body spoke for him in tongues for all his enemies to understand. And more importantly, in a way your body understood.
Your hand abandoned his tattoo to stroke a thumb across his full bottom lip. Lust swelled there, eager to chase the rest of the night away into a haze of pleasure until the sun rose. As tempting as it was, you sighed at the thought. You would rather spend this time taking in your husband, remembering the fine details across his face and body, from the scar in the hollow of his cheek to the rough texture beneath his shoulder blade where a bullet was once lodged. You wanted to trace the sockets of his eyes the way a blind person would, treasuring each valley, mountain, and cut of skin as if it were to disappear the second you stopped touching him.
“You’re beautiful,” you decided, bathed in candlelight, tangled up between the sheets and Tommy’s arms.
Tommy’s brows furrowed, and the cigarette hung dangerously loose from where his lips curled into a frown. He grunted, clearly dissatisfied with your words. Tommy wasn’t beautiful. He was hard, ambitious, and unmovable force.
Beautiful was a conventional word savored for the finest women. To you? It meant so much more. Crafted in a way that would cause people to stare, sure, but there was also a poetic sense to the word. The type of beauty you would use to describe a well-written novel or heart-wrenching poem. Thomas Shelby stood for something, and that was beautiful.
“Then what are you, eh?”
A lazy smile floated onto your face, so much so that you had to bite your lip to refrain from looking devastatingly pleased at his answer.
A woman, a dreamer, a friend, a reader, an achiever. “A wife.”
He huffed, raising his eyebrows playfully.
Why was it that most women felt like they could only fit the frame of one? With Tommy, you were never limited to the endless possibilities. You treasured being a wife the same way you treasured your other roles. Marriage wasn’t the end all be all. Perhaps that’s another lie men spun—that perfectly capable women stopped existing as soon as a diamond ring slid onto their finger. How sad, you thought, to waste away all that potential when men were still free to pursue stupid ideas like war and dog fights.
Tommy was unbothered by traditional ideas like that. Change powered his ambition; he had no time for parallel lines. You could be his wife, a writer, a singer, or a mother—whatever you wanted—and he wouldn’t think of you any less.
You hummed, chasing that cigarette from his lips and stubbing it out in the ash tray by his bedside table. Tommy didn’t seem too heartbroken about it. In fact, there was some mirth in his gaze. His hands traced up your naked spine, pulling your body further into his until you could smell the smoke in his breath.
“Yes,” he breathed in loudly through his nose, “my wife.”
-
The following day, you were invited to the Basnett's hunting party. You would’ve been more enthusiastic to write about your excitement to attend if the whole ordeal hadn’t been so troublesome. Because a few days prior, when you were visiting your husband’s office, you had caught sight of the letter on Lizzie’s desk, a letter that was supposed to reach you days earlier.
“What’s this?” You asked.
“Oh, nothing interesting,” Lizzie had said, too occupied with filing her nails while on the clock.
You kept your composure for the sake of keeping the peace. You didn’t wish to disturb Tommy if he were to walk by.
“This is a letter addressed to me,” you pressed.
“Oh.” She stopped for a moment, then leaned over to read the letter you had pulled from the messy pile. “No, it’s addressed to Tommy.”
“Mr. and Mrs. Shelby,” you hissed quietly, with emphasis on the missus.
“Hm, I didn’t notice.”
“You are paid to notice.” You fought the urge to comment that she was paid for other things not long ago. “How long has this been sitting here?”
Lizzie tapped her cigarette ash into the tray. “The post boy dropped that lot off yesterday.”
Even if it was only two days late to reach your hand, by society’s standards, that may have well been taken as you snubbing the invitation. Frustratingly, you had to cancel your plans that day and personally deliver your letter to the Basnett’s door, citing some excuse of it having been lost in the post.
“That woman is up to no good.” You said glumly that night into Tommy’s chest.
“I’ll speak to her,” he promised in that stoic tone of his.
Whether he had been true to his words, you weren’t sure because Lizzie made an effort to avoid you when possible.
“Oh! Mrs. Shelby! How wonderful for you to join us! Come in, come in. The men are readying their rifles for the hunt outside. How exciting!” Gushed Lady Basnett, shooing you into the atrium of her lavish mansion.
Your riding boots clacked across the floor before being muffled by an intricately woven rug. You stared up at the chandelier, childishly wondering if it would hit you if it were to fall at that moment.
“Right this way, Mrs. Shelby!” Lady Basnett ushered excitably.
You debated if all her energy was for show—to please her husband and be the good wife he expected of her. After she showed you through to the veranda and down to the circle of wives who had gathered under the trees while their husbands readied for the hunt, you decided that no, she must truly enjoy planning social occasions like this, as evidenced by the way she kissed Sarah’s cheek in greeting with a wide grin.
It pleased you to know that Lady Basnett found joy in something. Ever since her eldest died in the war, she has been known to be a bit of a recluse.
“Oh, what a beautiful ring! May we see it?” Doe-eyed Catherine asked.
She was one of the younger wives, like yourself. Catherine married an older man, twice her senior. Many of the wives here faulted her for it behind her back, but not you. You saw more of yourself in her than you did in any of the other women. Because, despite the age gap, the girl seemed to be utterly head-over-heels in love with a man society deemed old-fashioned for her. And how could you blame her when you swore an oath to a gangster of all people?
You obliged and let the wives twist and turn your hand to better inspect the diamonds on your ring finger.
“It’s perfect!”
“How many carats?”
“My Mary would be so jealous!”
After dutifully showing your wedding ring, you noticed the men beginning to mount their horses.
Catherine hooked her arm around yours. “Come on, we are going to be left behind!”
She jovially pulled you along the stone tiles at a speed that made you grateful for wearing riding boots. The backyard was grand in the sense that the acres they owned stretched vastly into the nearby forest. Although there were impressive features, like the hedge they had grown into a maze and the trees that were shaped into birds.
“Lady Basnett owned an aviary of budgies. Dear little things they were, she was devastated when they all escaped one night after the groundskeeper forgot to close the door,” Catherine commented, having noticed the way your head was turned.
You laughed, because you could precisely picture Lady Basnett as the type to fawn over little budgies.
Catherine led you to the horses, where some of the wives were already perched, waiting for the party to leave. None of them carried rifles, but rather wicker baskets strapped to the saddle for the picnic they planned to have at the top of the hill while they waited for their husbands to finish hunting.
Together, you set off, having mounted the back of Catherine’s mare. Deeper into the forest you went, the black mare trotting over loose dirt and rocks. Both of you remained at the end of the pack, preferring to keep to yourselves in light conversation.
Then it all happened so suddenly. One of the rifles went off up ahead, and a flock of birds rushed at you from the break in the foliage, startling your mare. You gasped in shock and reached for Catherine’s jacket to hold on, but only skimmed her. She went face first into the dirt while you were swept into the air like a leaf and fell with the grace of a rock. The ground thundered as the mare galloped into the distance.
“Fuck!” Catherine spat.
(On her fall she had taken a mouthful of soil and leaves.)
“They’ll come back,” you tried to reassure her.
-
Hours later, the two of you still had not been found.
“I was a prostitute before George found me, y’know.”
No, you didn’t know.
“That’s why I’m so young and he so old,” she smiled fondly, laughing as if it were the most normal thing.
You couldn’t find it in your heart to dislike her because of her circumstances. She was your friend, and a true one at that.
What was it that Tommy said? The past is the past.
-
The sun began to set when one of the men from the hunting party found you both huddled together under a tree. Kindly, he let the two of you ride the rest of the way back despite your hesitance to mount another horse.
When you returned to Lady Basnett’s, with Catherine in arm, the sun had been set for at least two hours. You hadn’t realized what trouble you had gotten yourself into until you noticed Tommy’s Bentley parked in the crowded driveway of the mansion. Men stood at the gate, armed and waiting. Catherine opened her mouth to remark how ridiculous it was, but you kept your lips sealed after recognizing the guards to be Peaky Blinders.
Tommy had to be beside himself.
A young boy who was playing between the cars popped his head out when the gates squealed open. His ears perked up, and he ran inside, clutching his peaky cap, to probably inform the adults inside of your arrival. People pooled out onto the front steps, the women covering their hearts and sighing with relief, and the men holding their hats to their chests. But when your husband, Tommy, came storming out, they parted like the red sea.
He stalked across the gravel like a predator, his eyes trained on you with an unblinking stare.
“Are you hurt?” He ignored Catherine, cupping your face and frantically looking between both your eyes as if you would disappear.
Upon further inspection, his eyes were bloodshot, and the white sleeves of his blouse were bundled into the golden garters. Your hands itched to muse his disheveled hair into place, but with all the curious onlookers, you thought better of it.
“No.”
George, Catherine’s husband, was quick to whisk her away inside. You heard Lady Basnett’s voice trailing after them: “Oh my, what a terrible thing. Come now, let me pour you some tea.”
Unfortunately, tea wouldn’t make up for any lost ground with Tommy.
“We’re going.”
You knew better to open your mouth to disagree. This was Tommy being afraid and carrying on. He retreated into himself. It didn’t look pretty or like he cared, but he cared; you knew he cared. It was only that no one else was allowed to know that the great Thomas Shelby felt any emotion.
At Arrow House, he swallowed two glasses of whiskey before saying a word. You were pulling at the hem of the overcoat that Tommy had shook off his shoulders to give you for the ride home. Your fingers just couldn’t stand the anxious silence that rang throughout the room.
“What the fuck happened?”
He stood in front of you, stoic as a soldier but cracking around the exterior thanks to his hand, which itched for the cigarette case inside his pocket. (A nervous tick of his.) You grab his hand between your own before he can fish out the case.
“The horse got spooked. It bucked Catherine and me off, but we’re fine.”
His thumb rubs across your knuckles as he looks past your shoulder out the window.
“Do you know where I was when I got the call? Eh? I was handling some business when Lizzie came in and told me some posh old woman was on the line, saying you were missing.”
He exhaled sharply, dropping his gaze to you, where you noticed his eyes soften.
“I thought…” He broke off.
His chin dropped, and he went to itch his nose with his other hand.
“What did you think happened? Is there something I should know about?” Concern leaked into your voice.
“No,” he huffed, clearing his throat. “It doesn’t matter. You’re home, and you’re safe.”
You bit your lip to stop yourself from saying anything that might push him over the edge. He was fragile in a state like this in the sense that he pushed the stronger, more vivid feelings to the side because you were his wife, not a Peaky Blinder. No, you would never be, even though you married one.
Often, you would wish you could turn into the leaves that swept off the pavement and into the air. Imagine then how much easier life would be for you both—to forget the animosity of life and rise above it all, breathe in that crystal air, and then finally exclaim the truth because up there no one could hear them or cared enough to try anyway.
Cautiously, you let go of his hand and traced your fingertips up to knead away the tension in his jaw.
“Thomas… Do you remember what you asked of me? To help you with the whole fucking thing—”
“From now on—”
“Thomas—”
“From now on, let me know where you are going. I will organize a guard to watch over you.”
‘You write like you’re running out of time,’ Lizzie’s poorly placed joke from the start of the week reverberated in your skull.
Was he?
“I need you,” he breathed, the smell of whiskey fanning over your senses.
You nodded, pressing up on your toes to kiss him. A soft breath escaped him when you pulled away.
“You have me.”
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