#Thomas Shelby Angst

[willsdreamgirl]

“morning mr. shelby.” — tommy shelby x reader ⋆｡˚

tommy shelby x fem!reader

you meet tommy as a nurse during the war, but happens when he realizes that he’s known you all along? (loosely based around some s1 plot points, but all set before the war)

18+ minors dni please! angst, fluff and smut

cw: mentions of war, shooting, stabbing, suturing, ptsd, friends to lovers, eventual smut, p in v sex, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it!!), slight breeding kink

word count: 5.4k+ (sorry lmao)

a/n: ahh first fic alert!! i’m so excited for you guys to read this! don’t be a ghost reader and lmk if you want to be added to my tag list for future tommy/cillian stuff!! 💌

you met tommy shelby during the war. he was a soldier, you were a wartime nurse. before the war, you had obviously heard of him. tommy shelby, leader of the fucking peaky blinders. arrogant bastards.

you lived in small heath, and everyday you’d pass him on the street. and everyday, you’d smile and say, “morning, mr. shelby.” and everyday, he would barely look up at you. you were sure he wasn’t even aware of your existence. prick.

your parents had always told you to stay away from the shelby boys. your dad would say that “they’re dangerous and make whores out of innocent girls” and your mum would make some comment about “the shelby men and their stupid cocks and their stupid judgements”.

they were the most intimidating people in all of small heath, possibly in all of birmingham. truth be told, there was a certain charm to them that you couldn’t shake off. well, to one of them. tommy shelby. you couldn’t tell if it was because he was your age, or because he was powerful and strong, or simply because he was strictly off limits. or because of his piercing blue eyes.

everyone in small heath knew tommy. but you knew tommy. he didn’t know you, though. you could tell if was him by the way he exhaled or by the sound of his footsteps or by the way he held a cigarette in his hand, the peaked cap on his head, a hand in his coat pocket. you despised tommy shelby, but god, was he fucking irresistible.

when men were drafted for the war in france, it was common sense that they’d need someone to tend to their cuts and bruises. you’d decided to volunteer, and after a couple weeks of training, you were right there, in the field. practicing on dolls and bags of rice and flour was nothing compared to what you saw. what you heard.

your first day in france was… eventful, to say the least. some commander had led you to the medical tent, and you were welcomed by the screams of hurt soldiers, blood and panic. you were immediately assigned to a patient, who’d been shot in the chest. you tried your best, did everything you could have, but ultimately, he had just lost too much blood. you didn’t sleep that night, haunted by the bloodshed, by the pleas of the soldier to keep him alive, by the feeling of someone else’s blood on your hands. over time, however, you grew accustomed to having your pristine white uniform soiled with blood and mud.

a month or so after you’d started, you heard shouts outside the tent. “help! someone HELP, for FUCK’s SAKE!” this was a regular occurrence, but the voice the shouts came from didn’t sound wounded. you felt an instinctual need to go see what it was.

what you saw, though, was something you never expected to see. tommy shelby, with a comrade’s head in his lap, putting pressure on a wound in his shoulder. without hesitating, you helped tommy drag the soldier to a vacant bed in the tent. “what happened?” you asked, hurriedly. tommy was visibly panicked. “i- he- um, he got st-stabbed by… one of the germans… his name’s danny- daniel.” you looked in tommy’s eyes, trying to give him some semblance of comfort. “he’ll be okay.” you applied pressure on the wound, and luckily, the blood stopped flowing soon. you cleaned the wound up and looked to tommy. “i’m gonna have to disinfect the wound with alcohol, you might want to hold daniel down for this.” daniel was still delirious from the blood loss, but the pain would be excruciating. tommy braced himself. his hands firmly holding down daniel’s. you nodded before tipping the bottle over on the wound. danny thrashed around on the bed, screaming and cursing, struggling against tommy’s hold. you heard his voice over danny’s. “you’re alright, lad! y’er gonna be fine!”

tommy sat by his friend’s bedside as he came to. you tended to other patients in the meantime but eventually went over to talk to him. “i want to keep him here for the night, mr. shelby. make sure there’s no infection.” he looked at you, surprised you knew him. “you know who i am?” “of course i do, all of small heath knows you. what i didn’t expect was to have a run-in with you, here in france.” he scoffed at his own misery and spoke. “you don’t belong here. you should be home.” you rolled your eyes, even in his state, he managed to be cocky. “if i wasn’t here today, mr. shelby, who would save danny?” that seemed to shut him up. he was about to speak, before you heard your name from the other side of the tent. “y/n, we need you!” after having helped a soldier who looked like he had been mauled, you looked out to see it was nightfall, and tommy had left.

a couple days later, at about noon, john shelby, the youngest of the shelby brothers walked in, clutching his arm tightly. “do you need help, mr. shelby?” you called out. “yes, i-i’ve been shot.” he all but whispered. you rushed over with a tray of distilled alcohol, forceps and bandages. after an afternoon of agony and pain, you had finally managed to pull out the bullet form his arm, john’s face a clear representation of his relief. “oh my god love, if we were home, i’d marry you right now.” you laughed at the proposition. “mr. shelby, i think you’re still a bit delirious from the anaesthesia. besides, i’m your brother’s age.” he looked shocked. “what, you’re arthur’s age? really?? you look nothing like that old prick.” you couldn’t help but laugh yet again. “i’m not that old, jesus. i’m tommy’s age.” he sighed. “marry him then. lord knows he needs a girl.” you giggled as you gathered your things and walked away. “you amuse me far too much, mr. shelby.”

it felt like ages had passed before you saw tommy again. your back was towards the tent entrance but you knew who had walked in. his breath trembled and his footsteps felt a bit unsteady, but it was undoubtedly him. you waited to turn until he called out your name. “y/n, is it?” you turned around, to find his face and shirt covered in blood. “mr. shelby! what happened?” you rushed over to him, taking his hand and sitting his down on a bed. “i- i… killed a man today, y/n.” he looked down, he couldn’t bring himself to look at you. you didn’t respond, simply got up and grabbed a stitching kit and a bowl of warm water. “is all this blood yours?” was your first question. “no. most of it is his.” you sighed and searched his face to find a cut on his cheekbone, the source of his own bleeding. “i’m wiping away the blood now, okay?” tommy gulped and nodded, his eyes still trained on the ground. “mr. shelby, i want you to look at me.” it was as if he didn’t hear you. you spoke again, softer yet more authoritative this time. “tommy. look at me.” he finally brought himself to look into your eyes. in his eyes, you saw guilt, regret and fear. in yours, he saw compassion, love and a warmth that could engulf all his pain. “good.” you whispered. you wrung out a washcloth and began wiping the blood away from his face, using your other hand to hold his chin in place. his arms found themselves wrapped around your waist, in an attempt to ground himself. you didn’t say anything, but your eyes told him that you didn’t mind. in that moment, you saw a different version of tommy shelby. you didn’t see ‘tommy, the criminal’, ‘tommy, the gangster’ or ‘tommy, the womanizer’. you saw tommy, a good man, an honest man. you felt his arms tighten around your waist as you pulled your hands away from his face, as if he was afraid you would dissipate into thin air. “tommy.” you whispered. “i’m gonna have to stich that wound up. it might hurt.” but he didn’t mind pain, not if you were the one inflicting it. “okay.” he spoke, his voice deep. he rubbed circles into your skin with his thumbs, the pain making him hum. “sorry, almost done.” you finished the last stitch. “there. you’re all fixed.” tommy held you like that, his hands around your waist, icy blue eyes staring into yours. your arms rested on his shoulders and you leaned down to whisper to him. “tommy. people are staring.” “so? let them.” eventually, he reluctantly pulled away from you. “it’s time for dinner, and then lights out.” he smiled as he spoke, and slowly exited the tent, catching a glimpse of you as he left.

needless to say, you only grew closer over the next few weeks. you were inseparable. whenever tommy had free time, he’d make his way to the familiar tent, and talk to you. it was wartime. you were left hurt and traumatized and so was he, but you both found solace in each other’s company. you told him how you knew him, and how you’d wish him good morning every day, only to receive complete silence from him each time. he chuckled and apologized. he told you about the peaky blinders, what they did, how they ran their business. you bonded over your shared hunger for knowledge and stories. you told him everything you knew about art, history and literature; and he told you stories of fighting gangs in the streets and stealing contraband. his stories were always more thrilling than yours. you’d try to set each other up with people for fun. you’d introduce him to every nurse, telling them how he was fighting for his country, and of course, they fell prey to his charming eyes and dashing smile. they’d ask what he did back home, and as soon as you said the words ‘gangster’, they’d run in the opposite direction. he’d done the same for you. introduced you to other soldiers, and when you spoke to them, about art and literature, they’d call you ‘unladylike’ or ‘too ambitious for a man’. you both secretly liked it this way, it was like you were his and he was yours.

when he became sergeant major, you both celebrated together. he’d brought you a bottle of whiskey, and you spent the night, talking and giggling drunkenly. but soon, he was assigned to be a sapper and dig tunnels. you both knew that the germans were going to dig their own tunnels, and at some unfortunate point, the tunnels would converge. both of you realized the danger it held, but he had to do it. you tried to talk him out of it, though. “tommy, please!” “y/n, calm down.” “goddamn it tommy, think! you’re gonna get yourself killed! what the fuck are you doing?” “i’ll be alright.” “no, you won’t! what if you get hurt? what if they shoot at you, huh? i won’t be there underground to make sure you’re okay!” “y/n, i have to serve my country. i have to do this.” “tommy. i’m begging you, don’t do this.” he simply sighed and kissed your forehead and held your face in his hands. you held tightly onto his wrists as tears threatened to spill from your eyes. “shhh, i’ll be alright. in fact, i’ll write you.” you seemed to calm down at the idea of him writing you. at least you’d be updated on his condition.

the morning he went down to the tunnels, he came to see you. you were sorting gauze and bandages when you felt his presence near you. you turned around and ran to hug him. he buried his face in your neck and breathed you in. you could feel tears brimming your eyes. neither of you knew why you felt like this. you were just friends, right? “tommy michael shelby, i swear to god if you die, i’ll kill you myself.” you heard him chuckle. he took a step back and caressed your cheek. “you take care, darling.” you wished he wouldn’t leave, but in your heart, you knew he had to. a few hours after, you found a letter tucked under a book on your desk. you curiously pulled it out and opened it.

dearest y/n,

i know how much you hate that i’m going to be a sapper now. i want you to know, no matter what happens down there, i care for you, and i love you, unconditionally. i’ve loved you since the day i first met you. i can’t believe i was looking for love in whores and prostitutes when the love of my fucking life was saying the sweetest good morning to me every morning. i’ll protect myself, and i want you to protect yourself too since i can’t do that for the time being. if we survive this wretched war, i want to take you home, ask your father for your hand and marry you, sweetheart. you take care of yourself, alright?

all my love,

tommy shelby.

you couldn’t help but gasp at what you read. he loved you. tommy shelby loved you. the same tommy shelby that was too arrogant to say a word to you, the same tommy shelby that your parents told you to stay away from, the same tommy shelby was head over heels for you. you immediately looked for a piece of paper, a pen and some ink. you wrote a letter back and sent it with one of the workers heading down to the tunnels. you didn’t know what it was like down there, but you hoped your letters would keep him sane. meanwhile, tommy received your letter and opened it with the same enthusiasm you showed his letter. however, he was also filled with nervous energy. he had confessed his love for you, which was so incredibly out of character for him, but with shaky hands, he proceeded to open the letter.

dearest tommy,

to say that your letter was shocking would be an understatement. i never knew you felt this way for me. like i’ve told you on several occasions, my parents always told me to stay away from ‘your kind’ and as a good catholic girl, i obeyed them. but tommy, in these few months, i’ve seen a side of you i can’t ever forget. i love you too tommy, the real you. the honest, raw, genuine tommy that i get to see on late nights and in random moments on busy days. i’d love to marry you, just make it out alive of that damn tunnel, you prick.

only yours,

y/n.

tommy felt his eyes welling up as he read the words you had penned on the paper. it had been so long since he’d seen you, or heard your voice. he wanted you. he needed you. to keep him stable and sane. as the days passed, your and tommy’s letter exchange became more and more frequent, and you felt like even if you were in this goddamned lawless land of blood and chaos, you had tommy. and he was all you needed.

that was, until the letters slowed down. you kept writing him, but to no avail. he hadn’t sent you a letter in days, or weeks, you weren’t sure anymore. you’d almost lost hope, and spent entire nights grieving him. trying to remember the sound of his voice, the feeling of his hands on your waist, the smell of his cologne. you hadn’t heard his breath or felt his footsteps in a long time. the pain was almost unbearable, and some days felt like decades. but the only thought that kept you going was that you saw tommy in all the wounded soldiers you treated. they were someone’s tommy. and they needed to get home alive.

4 months. 4 whole months since you heard from tommy. you were convinced he was dead now. you spent your days bandaging and stitching wounds, yet you could never fix the wound tommy left in your heart. it was one of the hottest afternoons, the french sun blazing unmercifully. you were insanely busy with patients today, the war was almost ending, and the soldiers needed to be fixed up before they could go home. yet, no sign of tommy. you sighed, cursing yourself for holding out hope now for someone who would not return.

“can i have a nurse here?” you could recognize that damn voice anywhere. the deep voice that filled your ears, smooth like honey, you’d recognize that voice at the end of the world. you turned around. tommy. “hi, love.” he smiled. but his smile quickly changed into a frown when he saw your sobs. you took him to a quieter corner of the tent. you stepped closer to him. he went to put his arms around you. you slapped him across the face. “where. the FUCK were you, thomas michael shelby?!” he was incredibly confused. “l- love, what?” “i thought YOU DIED, YOU BASTARD. where were you?” the time you spent apart had changed you, and from his response, you could tell it clearly changed him. “i was TRYING to fucking STAY ALIVE for YOU.” he raised his voice at you. he never raised his voice. neither of you spoke for a while and tension filled the air between the two of you. “i should leave.” he spoke, his voice barely above a whisper. he left, and you let him.

after a few weeks, news broke that britain had won the war, and everyone went home. five years had passed since you last saw the familiar streets of small heath, and you were no longer a girl, but a woman. a woman who needed to get a job to survive in this city. you walked around and saw a flyer on the doors of the garrison. ‘BARMAID NEEDED.’ you walked in to find harry. he looked up pleasantly surprised. “y/n! haven’t seen you in a while, eh? what can i do you for?” “i’m here to get the barmaid job, harry.” he sighed.” y/n, this job isn’t suitable for a girl like you. these men, they’ve just come back from war, they haven’t seen a girl, let alone a pretty one like yourself, in ages. they’ll have you up against a wall within the first hour of your shift.” you looked at him desperately. “harry, please. i need this job, otherwise i’ll be out on the streets, which are surely worse than this pub. i was a nurse in france, i’ve dealt with these men. please?” he sighed again before nodding. “alright then, you start tomorrow.”

your first shift consisted of the usual alcoholics, men with ptsd, everything that was to be expected after a war. you hear the bells at the door ring as the familiar footsteps walk closer to the bar. without turning around, you ask, “what do you want?” he replies, “whiskey, scotc- y/n?” you finally turn around at the sound of your name falling from his lips. “yes, mr. shelby. so, scotch? on the house right?” he leans over so that just the two of you can hear. “don’t mr. shelby me. come on, love, talk to me.” “i have nothing to talk to you about.” as you poured him a glass of whiskey, he held your wrist assertively. “y/n. come.” you rolled your eyes and went to the shelby’s private booth. “what is it that you want, tommy?” “what the fuck do you mean ‘what do i want’? you, i want YOU. i need you. did ya lose your fucking mind in france like danny whiz-bang?” you felt your bottom lip trembling and your throat choking up. “i… i thought y- you were fucking dead. i mourned you. for MONTHS. i grieved over the death of the love of my life. of my future husband. of my future children that i’d have with him. and then, just as i’m making my peace with it, YOU have the fucking audacity to show up? you have some bloody nerve, tommy shelby.” the look in his eyes softened as he took a step closer to you. “no. don’t you dare come any closer to me, tommy, i’ll kill you.” you said, holding up the bottle of whiskey as a weapon. he embraced you, holding you tightly, his fingers stroking your hair. you resisted the hug and tried to push him away, only to find his grip on you getting tighter. “g- get away… from me, p- please… i- just” your voice came out muffled between sobs. tommy felt hot tears rolling down his own cheeks. “shhh, sweetheart. i’m okay, eh? i’m fine. i’m here, with you.” you dropped the bottle you were holding and it shattered into a million pieces on the ground. you stood there in his arms, crying for what felt like an eternity. you finally pulled away from him, and he wiped your tears with his thumbs. you laughed, but then lightly slapped his arm. “you scare me like that again, tommy, i swear i’ll kill ya.” “i’ll hold you to it, sweetheart.” he kissed your forehead, and you rested your forehead against his. he tentatively closed the gap between your lips and his, and you pulled him by the collar and kissed him with enough force to make him trip and fall. he managed to stay steady and kissed you back with equal fervour. he spoke between kisses. “i *kiss* spent *kiss* every *kiss* second *kiss* thinking *kiss* of you.” you giggled. “i missed you too, tommy.”

he told harry that you’d be leaving the bar early that day, and dragged you out the bar while holding your hand, a smile on his face for the first time in a long time. “the great thomas shelby isn’t embarrassed to have a barmaid as his girlfriend?” you giggled. “never. and those who think i should be embarrassed can suck me cock.” he spoke proudly. he opened the car door for you, and you sat inside and waited for him to turn the ignition on. “where are we going, tommy?” “i want you to meet my family, love.” during the countless hours you spent together chatting, he told you about his family’s idiosyncrasies and stories about them. how arthur needed to be protected the most during fights because he was just as likely to hurt himself as he was to hurt someone else, how aunty pol’s instincts about love were never wrong, how john once fell in love with a prostitute and everyone laughed at him, how ada was the most rebellious and married a communist (who happened to be in of his best mates), and how finn always pretended to act like tommy, doing whatever his big brother did. you were excited to meet them of course, but anxious. they would be your family one day too.

he held your hand as he brought you in, everyone sitting around a table waiting for him. “does everyone just sit together like this?” you asked. “uh, no i called a family meeting for 3 pm.” tommy replied simply. “how did you know you’d be able to have me here by 3?” he winked at you. “i have my ways. and i know how much you love me.” he spoke in a singsong voice. you rolled your eyes at his schoolboy behaviour and waited for him to speak. “shelby’s, this is my girlfriend and soon to be fiancé, y/n.” he held his arm around your waist proudly, and you leaned up to kiss his cheek. you recognized arthur and john immediately from your time in the war. you assumed that the older woman was aunt polly, and the younger with the baby in her arms would be ada, leaving the youngest member of the family, finn. john came up to talk to you first, while tommy spoke with polly. “you know i didn’t really mean the ‘marry tommy’ thing?” you laughed as you replied, “i didn’t either, but fate works in weird ways, eh?” he agreed with you before talking to tommy. arthur was the next one to see you. “you and tommy, eh? if it wasn’t for the war, you two would probably never have met. i s’pose war isn’t all bad then.” “perhaps you’re right. i did find your brother to be arrogant before the war.” “that he is, y/n. that he is.” both of you looked over at him, engaged in conversation with everyone else. you fussed over the baby in ada’s arms. “awww, he’s precious! what’s his name?” “karl, after karl marx.” you shot her a look. “it’s unconventional, i know. but freddie really wanted it.” “it’s lovely.” finn rushed over to you and kissed your hand. you gushed exaggeratedly. “what a gentleman you are, finn!” “if tommy wasn’t here, you’d be my girlfriend, miss y/n.” you laughed at his childishness and ruffled his hair. “sure i would, finn.” the only person you hadn’t spoken to yet was aunt polly, arguably the most intimidating person of the family. “i have one question for you, y/n. how you answer it will determine if you’re fit for being a shelby. how do you think i kept this business up and running during the war?” you felt put on the spot but tried your best to answer. “um, well, to be quite frank, i’ve believed that women are better at business anyway. we know how to settle deals with whiskey and not fists or guns. and you seem like twice the man than most men i know anyway.” her lips twitched up into a smile as she looked to tommy. “oh, i like her already.” he held your hand in hers, and addressed tommy. “she seems like a lovely girl, do not fuck this up tommy.” tommy shook his head and laughed. “i’ll try, pol. i’ll try.”

you ate dinner with the shelby’s before you headed up to his house. “you sure you don’t want me to walk you home?” he asked for the hundredth time that night. “no tommy, i’m perfectly content spending the night with you. unless you’d like me to leave?” you questioned. “no no, stay, please!” he said, almost pleadingly. you looked around his bedroom when you reached his home. it was obviously a house, but it didn’t feel like a home. you frowned at your observation. “what’s wrong, y/n?” “this house isn’t a home yet, tommy.” “that’s because i want my first home to be with you. with our children. and as far as i’m concerned, you are my home.”

“care to dance?” he asked, holding out his hand. you looked at the gramophone in the corner. “that doesn’t look like it works, love.” you placed your hand in his. “so what? we can dance without music.” he said, holding your waist close to him, your hand on his shoulder. you leaned your head on his shoulder, both of you dancing in the silence, listening to the sound of each other’s breathing. “kiss me, tommy.” you whispered. he obeyed probably for the first time in his life and kissed your soft lips.

things escalated and you were now on tommy’s bed, tracing the sun tattoo on his chest, with him on top of you. “fuck me, tommy, please.” “your cunt wants this cock?” he growled. you moaned in his ear. “fuck, yes tommy, make me yours.” he stretched you out in the most blissful way. of course, you had used your fingers before, but nothing could replace the feeling of his cock. “god, please!” you moaned out, words slowly turning into incoherent sounds. tommy chuckled. “god can’t hear you now, sweetheart. not here.” he pistoned his hips into you just right and it wasn’t long before he found the spot inside you that made you scream. “t- tommy fuck! right there, please don’t stop!” “i wouldn’t dream of stopping, darling. my girl, so pretty all spread out for me. take it, love. take that cock.” the feeling of your impending orgasm coursed through your entire body, making you writhe in pleasure. “god, i’m so close tommy!” “good fucking girl.” his hand reached down to rub circles on your clit while he fucked you so good. “oh god, tommy, i’m not gonna be able to walk tomorrow…” “that’s the plan, sweetheart.” he spoke as he kissed hickeys on your neck, matching the ones you’d given him earlier. “come on love, make a mess on my cock.” as soon as he said that, you felt yourself falling apart, the tight band in your stomach snapping, uncontrollable moans of his name falling from your lips. “thank you tommy, thank you so much.” you moaned, drunk on the feeling of his cock inside you. “such an angel. who do you belong to, sweets?” he said, still pounding your cunt. “y- you, tommy. i belong to you!” “that’s right, sweetheart.” he whispered in your ear, “i love you, darling.” you moaned as you felt your second orgasm approaching. “tommy, fuck! i- i love you too!” “god i’m gonna cum inside you! you’d like that, eh? me getting you pregnant, all nice and round with my baby?” you felt your orgasm pulsing through you at his words. “yes, tommy! fill my womb up, please! i need it!” you heard tommy’s loud moans as he came inside you. “oh, such a good girl. took my cock so well, love.” tommy stayed on top of you for a while, his cock still inside you. “i’ve wanted to do that for five fucking years.” he spoke, voice muffled since his head was buried between your tits. you laughed, but the laughs quickly turned to moans as your sensitive cunt felt friction from tommy’s cock rubbing up against its walls. he pulled out of you slowly, watching his seed spill out of you. he eventually got up to get a warm washcloth and a glass of water for you. you drank the water as he cleaned you and himself up and pulled you into his chest. you pulled the covers over both of you, feeling your body flush against his. “that was amazing tommy, thank you.” “the pleasure is all mine, sweetheart.” he kissed your forehead.

ever since tommy came back from france, he had these recurring nightmares every night. of his time in the tunnels. the germans. his comrades. how he had to kill people with his bare hands. he could still hear the shovels digging the tunnels when he closed his eyes. when he was with you though, he could finally fall asleep. or so he thought.

you were awoken in the middle of the night by the sounds of a gasping tommy, suddenly sitting up. you felt groggy for a moment, having just woken up, but quickly sprung into action. you sat next to him, rubbing his back. “tommy, what’s wrong?” he didn’t speak. but he didn’t need to. you’d seen enough cases of ptsd from your time in the war to know what was happening to him. “you still see it, eh?” he only nodded. you laid back down and pulled him into your chest. he protested. “what are y-” “shut up.” you could tell, he was still a bit frantic, his breath still heavy. you spoke to him in a soft tone and you played with his fingers, his head on your chest. “listen to me. listen to the sound of my voice. feel my body against yours. you are home. you are safe. the war is over. the nightmares are just parts of your mind trying to scare you. but you’re stronger than that, eh? i’m here with you, and you don’t need to be scared. alright? i’m here with you, always.” he hummed, heavy eyelids slowly closing shut. being able to smell the scent of your perfume helped ground him. “good job, tommy. now sleep. i’ll be here with you when you wake up.” you managed to get him to go to sleep, but somehow convinced your mind to let you sleep light enough that if tommy were to have another nightmare, you’d be up immediately. fortunately, he didn’t wake up during the night.

he woke up to the sight of a sleeping you, the sun rays hitting you just right. he swore he could look at you forever. you felt his gaze on you and slowly opened your eyes. “how’d you sleep?” you asked. “like i hadn’t slept in years.” he replied.

“morning, mr. shelby.” you wished him, as you did, every day before the war. except this time, you were in his arms, in his bed. you kissed his lips softly. except this time, he finally wished you back.

“mornin’, sweetheart.”

[princessofmarvel]

Business and dates

summary | when grace leaves, it leaves the shelbys with a heartbroken thomas. polly takes this as an opportunity to get him with the girl she's always wanted him with

pairing | thomas shelby x fem!reader

word count | 2.30k

genre | fluff! with just a tad of angst! 

requested? | yes! thank you so much for your request! i had so much writing it, and i am kind of proud of this one, lol.

warnings! | mentions of bullying, and the reader not eating from being worried! and, i have not proof read this yet!

author’s note! | Hi! Thank you all for being so patient as I worked on this! Requests are open for drabbles, and headcanons only at the moment for these characters! And as always, I do I have really bad OCD that causes me to write in some random capitalization, and punctuation, But I think that we don't have to worry about that in this fic lol. And let me know if there are any mistakes, but please be kind!

No one knew what had happened that day. All anyone knew was that Grace was suddenly gone, and that she had left the Shelby family with a heartbroken Thomas. And the person left to pick up the pieces was his lifelong best friend, who has been in love with Thomas since the day they met back when they were just small kids. 

Thomas was having a decent day, school had just let out and he was walking back home (alone because his older brother Aurther thought that it would be funny to run off before Thomas got out of class) when he saw a young girl getting picked on. 

“Stop it! This is my favorite skirt!” Thomas heard her yell to the kids that had her on the ground, kicking dirt onto her clothes while laughing and taunting her. Thomas knew that these kids were practically afraid of him, so he knew he could get them to leave the girl alone.  He also knew that his mother would scold him if she found out that he didn’t do anything to help her. 

“Oi! Leave her alone, or I'll put a curse on you!” Thomas called out as he made his way up to the group, and pulled a razor blade out of his pocket. The kids practically scattered the moment they heard Thomas’ voice. Leaving just him, and the girl with dirt on her clothes. 

“Thank you” He heard the girl say in a quiet voice as he put his hand out to help her back up. 

“What caused that?” He asked, curious as to what the girl could have done to anger the other kids so much. 

“I-I told them that I wouldn’t do their homework.” She said back to him, as she tried to get the dirt off of her skirt.  Thomas told himself that he should have known it was something like that. There wasn’t anything serious that this girl could have done to upset them so much. 

“Come on, I’ll walk you home, you live on Watery lane, right?” He said as he started walking, with the girl running a bit to catch up with him. He knew her name, he recognized her from school. She lived right across from him, but they never said anything to each other. She had been over to play with Ada sometimes, but they never spoke. 

Neither one of them said anything as they walked, it wasn’t until they got to her home that Thomas spoke up. 

“They shouldn’t bother you again, no one should.” He said as he stood outside her doorstep, seeming almost sorry since he knew his reputation, and how kids would stay away from him in fear of getting cursed. 

“It’s alright, I don’t really have any friends anyways.” The small girl said, while rocking back and forth on her heels. 

“Why don’t you come play at my house? I know my family won’t mind.” He said to her with a small smile. Truth be told, Thomas didn’t really have many friends either, and he saw an opportunity to make one. 

Ever since then, the two were inseparable. They did everything together, they were even each other's first kiss. Her family was weary at first, but soon saw how protective the Shelby boys (and the rest of the Shelby family) were over her, and grew to like them. The two were like this up until Thomas was called to war

“Tommy, this has to be a mistake.” The girl cried into Thomas’ shoulder as he held her. “All three of you at the same time? What kind of cruel joke is this” 

“The universe has a funny way of doing things.” He mumbled into her hair, his hand resting on the back of her head. “I’ll come back, sweetheart.” 

“You don’t know that, Tommy” The girl said as she pulled her head out of his shoulder, and looked up at him, eyes red and puffy. 

“You really think I'm leaving you yet? You think I'm going to leave you before you get married? Please, your future husband doesn’t get off that easily.” He said with a small laugh while trying to lighten the mood as he held her face with his hand. “Nothings taking me from you, not yet.” 

“You better come back, Shelby.” She said as she looked up at him with glossy eyes. “Or, I’ll bring you back just to kill you myself.” 

Thomas laughed and kissed her head, as the air in the room changed. He didn’t know why, but he leaned down and kissed her lips softly, all he knew was that he couldn’t leave without giving her a kiss, even just a light one. “You’ve got nothing to worry about” He said as he pulled away. 

She believed him, she tried not to worry. She didn’t worry until his letters stopped coming. After a month of not hearing from him she worried so much she got sick. She wrote him everyday, sent him a letter at least once a week, if not twice. No word of his death ever came. 

The day Thomas arrived home, she was sitting at the kitchen table with Polly. His heart broke when he saw her, she was paler, and her face was skinny, all signs to her not eating properly. Neither one of them said a word to each other for a week. It wasn’t until (Y/n) decided that she had enough, and stormed into his room. 

“What the hell is wrong with you?!” she shouted, growing red in the face. 

“What are you talking about?” He asked, not meeting her eyes, already knowing what she was talking about,

“You! You come back, and are completely different! You’re cold, and mean to everyone, which maybe you were that way to some people before, but never to me! Never to your family!” As she yelled at him, she started to sway as if she was about to faint. Before she could hit the floor, Thomas grabbed her and set her down on the bed beside him. 

“You need to eat something.” He mumbled, not looking at her which infuriated her more. 

“I thought you were dead.” This caught his attention as he heard her start to cry. He finally turned to her. “You stopped writing.” 

“I didn’t know how to write to you, you would ask me how I was, and I couldn’t find it in myself to tell you about how I had just watched a man die. I thought it better to not write.” He said, pulling her into his chest. “Why are you not eating?” 

“You worried me, anything I ate just came back up.” She mumbled into his chest. 

“I told you not to worry.” He said with a small laugh coming from his chest, the first in a long time. 

“Tough shit, Shelby.” She mumbled back, while pulling her head out of his chest. 

They sat in silence for a few minutes, just staring at the other, until Thomas finally spoke up. “I’m trying to get back to normal.” He mumbled, barely loud enough for her to hear, she wouldn’t have if they hadn’t been so close. 

“I know, it will just take some time.” She said while she caressed his cheek. “And, I’ll be here to help you heal.” 

After that day, nothing ever really went back to how it was before the war. But it was like that for everyone. Thomas had gone back to normal as much as he could. He had his moments, but everyone did. And, (Y/n) didn’t lie, she was there every step of the way, even in the bad times she never left. 

The two never fought again until the day Grace left. She had tried telling Thomas before that something was up with her, but he just wouldn’t listen. The only other person that seemed to notice it was Polly. 

“He’ll never go for it.” John pipped into the conversation. Polly was currently trying to figure out a way to cheer Thomas up, and the idea she had was to put Thomas with (Y/n). She already considered the girl a daughter, and she always wanted her with Thomas. To her, it was the perfect plan. 

“That's why we don’t tell him! All we tell him is that he has a business meeting at the new restaurant, he’ll show up, expecting some business man to be there, but instead (Y/n) will come in wearing the most beautiful thing I can find, that he’ll just have to stay.” Polly explained to the boys and Ada. 

“Alright, but how are you going to get (Y/n) there, dressed up, without suspecting anything?” Ada chimed in. 

“We’ll tell her a boy stopped by and asked to take her out.” Polly said, as if it was obvious. 

“Please, she’s not going to just agree to go out with someone, especially if she doesn’t even know who it is.” Arthur muttered. 

"Actually she might.” John announced to everyone. “Just to make Thomas jealous, she mentioned it back when Grace was around.” 

The Shelby’s set everything into motion that night. Polly told Thomas he had a meeting, then she told (Y/n) about the secret man that wanted to take her out. 

So Thomas sat in his suit, waiting for this man to show, when he saw (Y/n) walk through the door, dressed like a vision in her red, drop waist, beaded dress, with an old pearl necklace to match. She looked around the room, until her eyes landed on Thomas. 

“What are you doing here?” She asked him, as she walked up to his table.

“Business meeting, what are you doing here?” He asked, suddenly growing jealous at the thought of her being here for another man. 

“A date, and what business meeting? I know your schedule, there wasn’t one planned, did you make one?” She asked, wondering who on earth Thomas could be meeting for business at this hour. 

“No, Polly told me I had one, who’s the date?” He asked, his jealousy rising. 

“Not sure, Polly told me-” A look of realization crossed both their faces “Polly” The two said in unison. 

She decided to sit down, now laughing to herself. “You’re the date.”

“You’re the business.” Thomas responded, a small smile growing to his face. 

The two sat there for a minute, before Thomas spoke up. “You do look stunning.” 

“Polly picked it.” She said, with a small laugh.

“I bet she did.” Thomas said with a laugh, and a sigh. “She’s wanted us together for ages.” He mumbled. 

“And what do you want?” The girl asked. Thomas had always had a feeling that (Y/n) liked him, he was just never sure how much, until he looked up and met her eyes that were filled with nothing but love and want.

“You in my life.” He said, keeping his eyes on her. “I thought a relationship between us would mess everything up. I couldn’t risk losing you.” 

“Thomas.” The girl said, grabbing his hand across the table. “You could never lose me, even if we did have a relationship and it failed, I would still love you. But, I don’t want you to feel like you have to do this.” 

“I have distracted myself from you for as long as I can remember. I wouldn’t let myself fall for you.” Thomas said, standing up from the table, (Y/n) following. 

“It’s okay to fall, Thomas, who knows, maybe it won’t hurt.” She said, as she placed a hand to his face. Without thinking, Thomas leaned in and kissed her with everything in him, causing her to hit the table, his hands on the side of her face being the only thing to keep them from falling. The pair kissed until they needed air. When they pulled away, he rested his forehead on hers. 

“Let’s give this a try.” He whispered, looking into her eyes. 

The girl smiled and gave Thomas a quick peck, before they left the restaurant, her holding his arm. The walk back to the Shelby home was mostly quiet, until she spoke up. “Thank god for Polly.” 

[dilf-issues]

Vanilla | C.M

Requested by Anon: hey dunno you take requests but since your writing is so hot , I'm willing to ask if you consider writing about roleplaying with Cillian and his wife or gf to break the dull routine they were stuck into , the way he suggested that to her being embarrassed and the sweet moments they ditch the characters in bed. He could bring his characters *cough cough * Tommy shelby. Thank you x

Synopsis: In which your boyfriend, Cillian, finds out you’ve been reading erotic fiction about his character in the Peaky Blinders, Tommy Shelby. Cillian shows you how much of a great actor he is.

Warnings: Age gap, the reader is in her 20s and Cillian is in his 40s. Roleplaying, extremely rough sex, dumbification, degradation, face slapping, spitting, pussy spanking, oral sex, unprotected sex, breeding kink, and a little cnc. THIS IS KIND OF DARK SO BE WARNED. Everything is consented it’s just that... Cillian’s gonna be rough, like ROUGH

.

Cillian had been busy. He had an upcoming new season this year and his schedule was packed. You haven’t spent time with him in quite some time now. He constantly apologized for not giving you enough attention and promised to make it up to you.

He decided to fulfill this promise.

Since he was the main character in his series ‘Peaky Blinders’, he did have massive privilege in the production. He had never done it before since he had been such a dedicated person to work with, however, he felt like he should sacrifice his work just for you. He wanted to spend the time with you, maybe have some dinner together at a nice restaurant. Just the usual things the both of you would do. Every time he had some free time he would do some nice things for you, treat you like a princess.

He came home from work that day, he got permission to take the week off and he even got back early from set. He wanted to surprise you, he had a flower in his hands a box of your favorite soft cookies. It was all so perfect.

When he came home, he saw that the first floor was empty and there were no signs of you anywhere. He went upstairs since he reckoned you were in the bedroom, probably taking a nap or reading a book.

Cillian was so happy. He was a man who barely showed any emotions in public but with you, it was different. He had a wide smile on his face, ready to surprise you but when he opened the door, he didn’t see you on the bed.

Instead, he heard the shower running and so he hummed to himself, setting the gifts down as he sat on the bed to wait for you.

As he patiently waited, he noticed your phone was still on. You were the type of person to let the screen go on forever instead of turning it off every 3 minutes like him. He glanced absentmindedly as he saw you were reading some sort of story on your phone. His actions were harmless, he just wanted to see what you were reading.

His eyes skimmed through the words as his blood runs cold.

‘Tommy had me bent over his desk, ass red and swollen from all the beatings. My pussy was leaking down onto the expensive wood, desperate for his cock to ram inside me.

“Please, Mr. Shelby, I need your cock!” I plead like a good whore as he growled.

“You are nothing but a filthy cocksleeve”

Tommy? Shelby? His Tommy Shelby? The character that he played?

It seemed like all of the blood started circulating to his face as he flushed at the filthy thing he had just read. Y/N? His sweet Y/N was reading something like that?

Cillian couldn’t believe it because someone as young and pure as he would never be this dirty. Because of their age gap, he saw her as someone that he needed to protect, shield from the rest of the goddamned world. His fragile little princess that he wouldn’t dare to inflict even a slight force in fear that she might break and shatter into pieces.

The sound of the shower became silent and it interrupted his thoughts, he quickly placed her phone where it belonged as he stood up and smoothened the spot on the bed where he sat to make it seem like he just came in.

When you had walked out, it took you a moment to notice Cillian standing there with your gifts but when you did, you gave him a small scream as you ran towards him, your figure wearing nothing but a small towel.

“Cillian?! You’re back? You brought me gifts!” You exclaimed as her wet body embraced him in a hug. Cillian was somewhat still blank from what he was reading earlier.

‘If she had liked that kinda stuff so much he could push her on the bed and beat her ass right now’

His eyes widened at his own thoughts as he tried to push them away, “Yes princess, I thought maybe I haven’t been paying attention to you now have I? I’m all yours for the week, baby”

You pouted as you nodded at him, and then he realized how submissive-looking you were. You had always had a demeanor of what he would expect someone much younger than him to have, however, Cillian was starting to look at it in a new light.

It doesn't help the fact that he still has his Thomas Shelby haircut for the filming.

It also doesn’t help she was almost naked in front of him, he hadn’t fucked her in weeks. It’s almost fitting.

Maybe doing something about it wouldn’t hurt now would it?

Oh... But it’s definitely gonna hurt you...

Cillian watched closely as the girl before him admired his gifts for her in awe. His eyes became more and more lusted as he figured out a way to approach you.

“Love, can I ask you a question?”

You hummed at him innocently as she raised her brows at him, “Anything, Cill...”

“What have you been reading on your phone, hmm?” Her eyes widened slightly as her heart started to pound in her chest. Cillian was looking at her so intensely that it was slightly scary. She didn’t know if she should lie, or if she should tell him the truth. However, since he had asked... It was obvious he knew the truth.

“Cillian I can explain” You sputtered, panicking on the inside as Cillian started closing whatever gap that both of you had, he was looking down on you in a way he had never done before. You felt the chill run down your spine as you felt the back of your knees hitting the bed.

“Explain” He commanded.

“It’s just... You know I love you and you know I should be honest to you no matter what. But... I just... We haven’t been together in a long time lately and even when we do... It’s always the same...” You felt guilty saying this to him, it’s not like he was bad at sex. He was great. However, you were getting bored with the same soft and loving sex you two always had. “I just... I hope you can be a little rougher, that’s all. You’ve always been... So soft”

“Soft... Hm?” He tilted his head to the side as he stared at you almost mockingly, “Be careful of what you wish for, love”

You had felt your heart stop when Cillian’s smooth Irish accent suddenly turned into the dark Brummie accent you had always heard about on the TV. The one you had always touched yourself to when he wasn’t around.

Then out of nowhere, Cillian had roughly pushed you on the bed as you fell down and whimpered softly. He pulled off the towel on your body as you were left naked, “C-Cillian!”

“Who the fuck is Cillian, eh? Have you been fucking whoring yourself out to another man?” Cillian cursed at you as he quickly took his clothes off, “You’re my whore. You’re mine to fuck, you got it?”

Then you can physically feel your gears shifting in your brain, “T-Tommy?”

Your body shivered as you felt yourself getting wet, you were all naked and you were ready for him. You felt your legs spread instinctively as you heard him laugh, “You really are such a desperate fucking cunt, eh?”

‘Tommy’ had bent down as he gripped your face by the cheeks and roughly shook your head, “Who do you belong to? Who do you fucking belong to?”

“Y-You Cill-Tommy! I belong to you!” Tommy smirked, as his hands traveled down to your navel, teasing you as he drew figures on the skin, making you whine, “Open your fucking mouth you dirty whore”

You wasted no time opening your mouth for him, wide with your tongue out. Suddenly, he did the unexpected when he spat in your mouth, “Fucking swallow it, princess”

You swallowed his spit like a good girl as you held out your tongue to show to him, suddenly seeking his praise and validation however it never came. Tommy just hummed as he let go of your face harshly, almost slamming your head onto the plush bedding.

Characters aside, Cillian was never like this. Throughout the year of your relationship, he had always been gentle and kind, treating you like a soft feather and taking care of you. Maybe because it was because he was much older he had felt like he needed to treat you gently. You never realized Cillian had this side to him. He had always had this side, you just never awaken it.

“Spread your legs wider” He commanded, his voice dark as his character, you listened to him, eager to show him you were his good girl as he hummed looking down at the glistening flesh in between your legs. You were so wet it had dripped down and leaked onto the bedsheet. Without a warning, Tommy gives a hard slap to your cunt and you screamed out. You thought he was doing it once but it seems like it came over and over again, beating your swollen pussy and clit until it was throbbing and red. You cried out of pleasure and pain, as you begged him. You didn’t know what you were begging for but it was sure not for him to stop.

“You fucking like this don’t you? Fucking hell, look at you. You’re fucking wet, you like getting fucking beaten and bruised huh? What a fucking whore. You are nothing. You are only good for fucking, you are only here to fuck. Remember that, you fucking cunt”

Tears were flowing down and you were desperate you were so desperate for his cock. After each word, Tommy spat on your body, leaving you all wet and filthy combined with your own sweat and arousal.

“P-Please! P-Please, fuck me, Tommy! Please I need your cock. Please I want your cum. I need it inside me!” You pleaded like a whore as he slapped your face. You moaned out as his hand traveled down your neck and choked it just enough to make you feel the air around you restricting. “Tommy, I can’t, I need your cock”

He scoffed, pulling down his pants as whipped out his cock. It was so hard to the point where it became purplish-red, the veins covering the base as the head leaked with pre-cum.

“You want my cock?” He lined up his tip on your vagina, “You fucking get it you cocksleeve”

Without giving you a warning and time to adjust, Tommy slammed his cock inside your cunt and he wasted no time ramming into you roughly. Not like you needed time to adjust since you were sopping wet. All you can do is choke out his name and moans as he grunts with each slam.

His pace was rough and deep and for someone like hin with his age, he had the stamina to go on and on fucking you so rough till you can feel him ramming in your stomach.

No words could even cum out of your mouth as your eyes rolled back as he fucks you braindead.

Spit drooling at the side of your mouth as you babble like a cock hungry whore underneath him.

“I’m gonna fucking cum and you’re gonna take it. You’re gonna fucking carry my babies, and even then it is not gonna stop me from fucking you stupid”

You could feel him twitching as his thrusts were getting sloppier and sloppier, you could also feel your orgasm coiling in your tummy as you cried out once you let it all go, the liquid splashing all over the both of you as you squirt on his dick.

You were heavily overstimulated and you screamed as Tommy fucked the cum out of him.

The warm seed spilled inside your walls as he grunted in pleasure, leaning down as he bit your neck and drew blood to the surface.

Tommy looked at you all fucked out, eyes still rolling at the back of your head as you continue to babble nonsense to nothing.

He breathes heavily as he lays down beside you, carefully moving your body to cuddle up to him.

“Like I said, my love... Be careful of what you wished for”

[babsharrison]

Shadows and Sunlight - Thomas Shelby x Reader

Pairing: Thomas Shelby x Fem! Reader

Summary: In Small Heath, you navigate the challenges of motherhood while your husband, Thomas Shelby, becomes increasingly absorbed in his dangerous world. A tense encounter forces him to confront his priorities, leading to a pivotal change in their family dynamic.

Word Count: 1.4k

A/N: I love Tommy so much that I had to write a fic about him 😭.

It was a quiet night in Small Heath, but inside the Shelby house, the atmosphere was tense.

You looked out the living room window, watching the shadows stretch as the sun set. In your lap, your daughter slept peacefully, her tiny fingers clutching a piece of cloth while a soft smile danced on her face. Listening to the gentle sound of her breathing brought you joy, but also a sadness that was building in your heart.

Thomas, your husband, had been distant. Over the past few months, he had become increasingly absorbed in his business, and the life of crime seemed to be consuming the man you loved. What once was a strong and caring partner was now a shadow, often absent and lost in worries you couldn’t comprehend.

The house, once filled with laughter, now echoed with Thomas's absence.

He had come home late the night before, with the familiar dark look in his eyes. Your little one, only a few months old, was starting to sense the difference in her father. When he wasn’t around, she would cry as if she felt his absence, and that broke your heart.

That night, as you rocked your daughter to sleep, you decided it was time to confront Thomas. The weight of his absence was becoming unbearable, and you could no longer ignore what was happening.

When Thomas finally came home, the moonlight illuminated his tired face. He seemed to carry the world on his shoulders.

“Where have you been?” you asked, trying to hide the worry in your voice.

“Business,” he replied, his voice low and distant.

You saw the internal struggle in his eyes, a mix of anger and pain. It was clear that Thomas was battling invisible demons, but that didn’t absolve him of his responsibilities as a father and husband.

“You can’t keep doing this, Tommy. You’re pushing us away. Your daughter needs you,” your voice faltered, the pain becoming visible.

He closed his eyes, a moment of vulnerability you rarely witnessed. When he opened them, determination was there, but so was a deep sadness.

“I do this for you. To make sure you’re safe,” he murmured, pulling you into a tight embrace.

From that moment on, things didn’t improve.

Thomas grew more reserved, and you found yourself struggling to care for your baby alone, trying to be a strong and loving mother. The emptiness in the house echoed the silence of your life, and you began to fear that Thomas was losing the battle against the world surrounding him.

One night, as you tried to calm your daughter, the doorbell rang. Your heart raced, and a chill ran down your spine. Opening the door, you found a man with a dark expression and eyes as cold as steel.

“Where is Thomas Shelby?” he asked, his voice low and threatening.

Fear surged within you, and an icy panic took over your body. The man was not just a presence; he was a warning of the dangerous world surrounding your family.

Before you could think to shut the door, he pushed it open, causing you to stumble and fall to the floor.

Your heart raced as you crawled backward, looking up at him with wide eyes. He was too close, the smell of tobacco and alcohol filling the air.

“Where is Thomas?” he repeated, now with palpable ferocity.

The little one in the crib began to cry, and you quickly turned to look at her, but the man was not interested. He advanced, and despair washed over you.

“If you don’t tell me where he is, you won’t like what happens to you and your little girl,” he whispered, his hand slowly moving toward your waist.

Panic gripped you as you realized he was holding a gun.

With a swift movement, he pressed it against your head, and you froze, the world around you becoming a blur. Your heart pounded frantically in your chest, and your hands trembled.

“He needs to know he can’t escape. It’s time to pay his debts,” he said, his voice calm, almost indifferent to your terror.

Tears streamed down your face as you looked at your daughter, who was crying inconsolably.

The scene felt like a nightmare, and you were desperate. In a final act of courage, you said, “He’s not here. He won’t be back for a while. Please, don’t hurt us. She’s just a baby!”

The man hesitated, perhaps by the sincerity in your voice or the fragility of the situation. But the anger was still there, and he only laughed, a dry and cruel sound.

“Everyone has a price, and you two are on your way to paying it,” he murmured. But before he could do anything, the door swung open with a crash.

Thomas walked in, his expression cold and determined.

“Get away from her!” he shouted, his voice echoing through the room. The man turned to Thomas, the gun still on you, but Thomas's courage was palpable.

“You don’t want to do this, friend,” Thomas said, tension rising in the air. “Put the gun down.”

The man hesitated, and you felt the pressure of the gun dissipate, even if just a little. Thomas slowly moved toward you, muscles tense, each step measured.

“You’re going to regret coming here,” Thomas declared, and with a swift motion, he lunged at the man, knocking him down and sending the gun flying away.

The sound of the impact echoed through the house, and you fell back, breathless, still in shock.

Thomas was on top of the man, his fists delivering blows with the precision of a fighter, and you stood paralyzed, watching as anger and despair blended in your mind.

Finally, Thomas stood up, looking at you with concern in his eyes. He quickly approached, checking to see if you and your daughter were okay.

“Are you alright?” he asked, his voice filled with anxiety.

As you looked at him, the tension began to dissipate, but the fragility of the situation still lingered.

“I... I am,” you replied, trying to stay calm as you looked at your daughter, who was finally starting to settle down.

From that moment on, Thomas began to change.

He realized he needed to make sacrifices and find a balance between the world of crime and family life. He started spending more time at home, helping with tasks, trying to make your daughter laugh, and enjoying the little moments you shared.

One night, while you were together in the living room, Thomas looked at your daughter, who was in your lap, and asked, “Do you remember when I promised I’d always be here?”

The baby, still too young to understand, simply smiled, flailing her tiny arms.

Thomas chuckled, the tension in his face easing.

“Let’s make this happen, my little one,” he said, looking at you with a smile you hadn’t seen in a long time.

Time passed, and life began to improve.

Thomas brought home flowers, helped with caring for your daughter, and slowly, the sparkle in his eyes returned. In one of those moments, while you were changing the baby’s clothes, he walked into the room and said, “I want her to know I’m here for her. For both of you.”

The next morning, you woke up before your daughter. As you made coffee, you smelled fresh flowers. Turning around, you saw Thomas entering the kitchen with a small vase, wildflowers gently swaying.

“For you, my dear,” he said, the smile now radiant.

In that moment, you knew he was determined to be the man you always believed he could be.

That night, as your daughter slept, Thomas lay down beside you.

“I never wanted you to feel this way, far from me. You and our daughter mean everything to me,” he whispered, wrapping you in his arms.

You smiled, feeling his warmth envelop you and the little one, a new beginning. The tension of the past life started to dissipate, and the love you shared began to shine once again.

And as the night fell, the soft sound of your daughter’s breathing filled the room, you knew that despite the shadows that had passed, the sun was finally shining on you again.

[theonewiththefanfics]

The Layers of Thomas Shelby - Frozen Fear (one-shot)

Synopsis: Fear was an emotion Tommy elicited in others. He never thought he'd feel it himself. Not like that. Never like that... 

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x fem!Reader

Genre: angst, slight fluff

Warnings: graphic descriptions of blood, injuries, kidnapping, swearing, death not sticking to canon whatsoever :)

Word count: 3028

Fear was something Thomas Shelby was intimately acquainted with. He elicited it and made others tremble to their very core with just a glance or a whisper of his name from someone else’s lips. Fear was as much a shadow in his life, as his daughter who followed him around wherever she could.

But fear was also what he felt in that exact moment as he stared at the bloodied napkin on his table, the silver locket he’d gifted Y/N when their child had turned one inside it, a simple note of “For Angel” attached to it.

Sadie was tight asleep on his chest when he’d received the damned box. Y/N had taken her to Ada’s so she could have the day to herself, get her body pampered, do up her hair and maybe spend a bit of money on some new shoes or a winter coat as a birthday present from him. If she’d asked, Tommy would’ve bought her the Eifel tower, and she’d bloody well deserve it. Valentine's was coming up, after all.

He was so proud of her. Despite the certain things that’d happened, he wouldn’t want anyone else to share a life with. She’d picked up the broken pieces Grace had left his heart in and mended it with gold. But gold didn’t matter at that moment when he didn’t know where she was. Where her body was.

When Frances had brought in the box that’d been left by the doorstep, Sadie had been softly snoring on his shoulder for the better part of an hour while he ran tired blue eyes over the logs of the previous week.

He thanked her, his voice a whisper to not stir his toddler, before cautiously examining the square. When he opened it, Tommy swore his heart stopped beating. Or he wished it did. Because it wasn’t like that time when Grace’s boyfriend had taken Y/N, or like that time she’d gotten mugged behind a shop. No. This time, he knew she was dead, and he wished he was too.

It took all of his self-control to ring up his brothers and tell them to get to Arrow House right that second. It took all of his restraint not to shout or scream, the only thing tethering him to earth and sanity his pride and joy asleep in his arms.

When Arthur and John got to his home office, Tommy simply threw them the note, his eyes trained on the small oval locket, thumb tracing the inscription upon it, smearing blood more and more over his own hands.

“Find her.” Those were the only words he uttered.

For a brief second, he’d glanced up and saw terror rush through the eyes of his brothers; he knew how much the two loved his wife, they loved her like they loved Ada and Polly, so without a second to spare, they ran back out, no doubt to gather every Blinder and search every nook and cranny while he clutched the brown-haired girl to his chest, the silver locket clutched in his other palm.

He wasn’t a religious man, didn’t even necessarily believe what his gipsy ancestors did or even his aunt Pol, but at that moment he turned his head to the ceiling and prayed to whoever might listen, old gods and new, Norse and Greek and Slavic – anyone that would hear his pleas.

Tommy thought back to every time Y/N had smiled at him, had laughed and filled his world with light. He even thought back to all those insane moments where he felt like his jaw would snap with how hard he’d been clenching it because of some stupid thing she’d done. He wished he’d appreciated those moments more because when two hours later Arthur came back to the house, the coat his wife had been wearing that morning in his hands, soaked and dripping freezing water onto the Turkish carpet, Tommy knew she was gone.

***

Her whole world consisted of cold, nothing else. It was the only thing she could feel, taste and sense. Was there anything to sense? Y/N didn’t know. She didn’t even fully believe her legs were still attached to her body, but somehow she was making her way across the field.

Time had become a concept she couldn’t comprehend, and the only thing that showed it had passed was the ever-changing position of the moon - her only companion through the long journey.

She had stopped shaking a while back, which it didn’t take her being a genius to know meant trouble if she didn’t find a way to get warm, but even that didn’t matter. Nothing but getting home did. If she had to die, she wanted to do it there, not somewhere in a ditch let alone beneath the frozen surface of the lake where Luka Changretta had dumped her.

He thought she’d been dead. He’d slit her throat, but not before ripping off the beautiful little necklace Tommy had gifted her.

“So he has something to remember you by,” the Italian mobster had given her a mocking smile before taking a knife from his side and slicing it across her neck.

The pain had been blinding, knocking all sense of reality out of her mind. She knew it would be the end. When her body lifted above the chair she’d been tied to, when her back greeted plush leather seats, her blood staining them forever. She knew she would die sooner or later. Then sweet blackness greeted her.

But death was a lot more painful than what it’d been described to be like in all the books she'd read and edited, especially the wound in her throat. Her breaths were white-hot knives dragging down her oesophagus and her lungs were on fire with each shallow take of air.

Through a haze, Y/N heard Italian being spoken before two rough hands grabbed her by the ankles and dragged her out of the car.

Her body hit the frozen ground with a thud, and it took every bit of remaining brainpower not to whimper from the pain. The winter air stung every piece of her body inside and out, caressing her with icy nails.

Slowly her mind was coming to, the cold sobering her up, but when someone took her wrists and another took her by the ankles, setting her flying, it was the frozen surface of the lake she cracked through that awoke her completely.

Y/E/C eyes flew open, murky depths of the water greeting her while every nerve and cell in her got shocked. Instinct told her to swim up, get a breath, and get out of the water before it pulled her under, but with the mightiness of a Norse goddess, Y/N suppressed all that and allowed the lake to gently pull her down, and her mind finally started to understand what’d happened.

They thought she was dead and decided to throw her body in some lake, probably hoping it would freeze over before she floated to the top and would remain that way until the very spring, prolonging the pain for her family.

The thought of her family grieving her was the only thing keeping Y/N from not trashing below the still surface. Instead, she slowly slipped her arms out from the coat and let it move to the top, while she sunk lower and lower.

Soon enough her feet touched the slimy earth below, which is when she once more opened her eyes and glanced up. There wasn’t really anything to see, apart from the light of the moon streaming in through the broken place where her body had been thrown and two retreating headlights.

Y/N waited two more seconds her whole being in shock and begging to get out and away from the cold when she pushed upwards and broke the surface. She gulped the air down in greedy takes, not caring about her split neck or the trembling of her body - at that moment all she cared for was air.

Her teeth were chattering so hard she pressed her tongue to the roof of her mouth, afraid it might get caught between them and she’d bite it off. Swishing her head around, she looked if the ice had broken anywhere else. Out. She needed to get out. And to whatever god had taken pity on her after everything, underneath a small makeshift pier where kids would come and fish, the ice had cracked right to the very edge.

She knew every second spent in the water was a second closer to hypothermia, so as quick as her frozen limbs would allow, she swam to the land. It was a hand’s stretch away when another pair of headlights came into view. Y/N cursed and instead of getting out of the lake, she ducked underneath the wooden planks, pressing a palm to her mouth, so whoever it was wouldn’t notice the air steaming up in the air from her mouth.

Her ears were ringing, so Y/N couldn’t hear whatever the men were talking about, only see how they fished out her coat and took it with them. They left another minute later, and she swore at whoever it was for costing it to her. Home. She needed to get home and fast, but she couldn’t be seen, couldn’t let Changretta know he’d half-assed her murder and she’d survived. He wouldn’t do so again, so Y/N waited another bone-chilling minute, checking if any car passed by again.

And then she got out, her dress clinging to her body, hair against her face, matted with seaweeds and blood, one heel of her boot snapped off – a wraith come to life and ready to haunt.

The first step was agonising, and Y/N collapsed underneath her weight, needles piercing her feet. Her knees bruised and scraped raw against the stony earth as did her hands, but she welcomed the pain, let it ground her, and used it to remind herself – pain meant she was alive. No pain would be the real problem.

Y/N wrapped her hands around her body, digging her nails into her biceps, each step an arduous labour. Small pebbles cut the soles of her feet; she’d lost her shoes somewhere along the way; her bones ached from the very inside and each breath was a task, the wound in her neck, although scabbed over, split with every small movement, small streams of blood trickling down and staining her white dress.

Lights were visible in the distance, even as her vision blurred more and more, the small bright dots becoming stretched-out beams before everything tilted and she was staring up at the sky.

The stars were magnificent, she thought. You couldn’t really see them shine like that in the city. Even with Arrow House being further away from the centre, the beauty of it didn’t compare to that of the open field.

Her mind went back to Tommy, to how they met, how they used to bicker about every single thing and to that first morning she’d woken up beside him and instead of finding his pillow cold, a strong arm had been wrapped around the middle, his nose hidden in her hair.

Neither mentioned it a few hours later at breakfast, but it’d been the day things slowly had started to shift. Then she’d gotten shot, and the switch had completely been flipped. All those glances they’d shared, the soft smiles and tiny touches were no longer hidden, but out on full display. His hand now always gravitated to touch any part of her, they fell asleep facing one another, most times Y/N using Tommy’s chest as a pillow. And then someone else came along and used his chest as a pillow, his heartbeat as a lullaby and his eyes as the ocean to pull them in and never let go.

She’d been scared to become a mom, but even with that, she’d never seen Tommy so absolutely terrified. When Y/N had gone into labour, she thought he would pass out, but he swallowed the fear and stayed with her. Despite Ada being adamantly against a man being present during “women’s business”, she’d threatened to break her neck if she so much as looked at Tommy, Polly snorting beside her.

“He put me in this position, and by God, he will be here,” Y/N had sneered at her sister-in-law before a contraption rippled through her body and she almost crushed her husband’s hand.

But then the pain went away and a small wriggling person was placed on her chest. She’d never seen Tommy fully break down before that.

“Huh,” Ada had shrugged. “So he does have a heart.”

She’d promptly received a smack from Polly and Y/N for that comment, but Tommy had chuckled.

“No, I don’t.” He’d leaned in and pressed a kiss to his wife’s temple. “These two stole it a long time ago.”

After that day, it wasn’t uncommon to find Tommy either in his office or even in their bed with Sadie sound asleep on his chest. She just about melted each time.

But now all that stared back at her was the cloudless winter sky. Y/N wanted to sob at the thought she’d never see Tommy’s blue eyes anymore or fix the way Sadie’s curls framed her face, but every little movement was agonising, so she just laid there, staring at the cosmos and waiting for that black void to get her.

***

When Y/N came to she was confused as to why there was so much yelling when being dead, why her head was pounding and her body was racked by violent shivers.

“You undressed my fucking wife!” A deep voice boomed from somewhere very far away it seemed while at the same time, the noise echoed in her skull, rattling her brain.

“Oh, would you have liked me to have left her in that frozen fucking dress?” A deep, gruff one replied. “She was already hypothermic, but by all means, you’d rather no one saw her in her knickers than be alive.”

“Shut your fucking mouth, Solomons!”

That name being said snapped her eyes open, which was a big fucking mistake, as even the warm light from a candle by the bed and from the fireplace was enough to make Y/N feel like she was looking directly at the sun and burning her retinas.

Another horrible shiver went through her frame, her teeth chattering nonstop. Pins and needles were running all over her skin and Y/N curled up in a ball as if trying to not let any of the heat she’d managed to get back escape, but that only made her feel more pain, a groan escaping her mouth. That small noise was enough though for the door to be busted open and for two men – one lean and tall, the other a burly, beard-covered menace to rush inside.

Tommy was by her in an instant, a careful palm placed on her cheek.

“Don’t try to talk,” his own voice was that of a whisper. “The wound’s pretty rough.”

If it didn’t feel like it’d hurt like hell, Y/N would’ve just rolled her eyes, but all she could do was squeeze them shut as shivers went through her body. When Tommy saw that, he was instantly on his feet, going for the fireplace and adding more logs to the dwindling flames.

When he turned around, Y/N had slid her shaking hand from underneath the duvet and extended it to him, a silent plea for him to come back.

It didn’t take much more than that for Tommy to take off his jacket and suit, not caring about the company in the room, his trousers following until he was in his breeches, sliding into the bed, wrapping her frozen body with his own warmth.

A groan escaped her mouth, as she clung to him, Tommy releasing a string of expletives when sensing just how cold Y/N actually was.

“Bloody hell, woman,” he muttered, pressing a kiss to her forehead and tucking her face into the crook of his neck.

Gently, he intertwined her legs with his, and his fingers went to card through her matted strands, the motion more so calming him down, than her.

He’d put their daughter in bed after calling for Polly to come, with the thought Y/N was dead, his whole being a numb void. He’d thought the only time he’d ever get to see her again was after her body was found, that was if it’d be in a recognisable condition, so he’d take her frozen feet against his calves, her cold lips against his chest and stiff fingers digging painfully in his sides, as long as it meant she was alive.

At some point, after Alfie and Tommy exchanged words, Solomons left, and they spent the whole night and early morning like that, tangled in one another until Y/N was no longer cold or more appropriately would snap her tongue off if she so much as opened her mouth. She still couldn’t speak despite how Alfie had cleaned and stitched the wound in her neck, but she could write.

Alfie had brought a pen and paper upon Tommy’s request so they could communicate and the first and only word she scribbled was “home”.

“We’ll go home soon,” Tommy promised. “Arthur’s just… taking care of a few things.”

To that Y/N just nodded; she didn’t need any more explanations.

She took the pencil again and flipped to a new page. “Alfie has shitty sheets.”

Tommy chuckled, tightening the grip he had around Y/N’s waist. “He does, doesn’t he? You’d think the fucker could afford silk by now. Did he even change them before he put you in the bed?”

She just smiled and nuzzled closer to Tommy pressing her no longer cold nose to his chest and breathing in his scent, as he cradled her nape.

Y/N could hear the rapid thuds of his heart. When he'd first joined her in the bed, it'd been racing like one of his horses, stuttering and trying to find a beat, but now it was a steady song, matching her own.

No longer were they afraid.

Tags (crossed out wouldn’t take): 

Everything tags: @palaiasaurus64​ @supernaturalbaesduh @thatawkwardlittlefangirl @sea040561​ @staryeyedgirl​ @deathbyarabbit​ @m-a-t-91​ @maladaptive-ninja-returns​ @averyrogers83​ @in-the-end-im-still-trash @gallifreyansass​ @dewy-biitch​ @avxgers​ @unlikelygalaxygiver​ @magicwithaknife​ @ollyoxenfrees​ @bnhvrdy​ @tvwhoresblog​ @thatkindofgurl​ @sj-thefan​ @lestersglitterglue​ @im-squished​ @strangersstranger​

Thomas Shelby tags: @datewithgianni​ @captivatedbycillianmurphy​ @screemqueen​ @mrsmalfoyshelby​ @theamuz​ @lyarr24​

A/N: sooo, it's been a while, hasn't it? Just wanted to drop something for the upcoming Valentines :)

P.S. hope you liked this :)

P.S.S. please don’t plagiarise my work and repost it/ translate it on other platforms (wattpad etc). re-blogs are very welcome

[writers-hes]

Toy Horses Outside the Brothel

You always knew Tommy as the cheerful boy who took care of you. He always knew you as the smart girl that he visited by the docks. The daughter of a prostitute, the son of a deadbeat father; a soldier who protected his country; a whore who protected him; a gangster who controlled Brimingham; and now, a wife. War changes people, you just didn't realize that war could change you both. (angst, depictions of abuse, poverty, prostitution, canon-typical themes, death, war, time jumps)

A/N: This is dedicated to @runnning-outof-time ! Thank you for giving me guidelines and for reading my work before anybody else did. You’re amazing and I wish I could write Tommy as good as you do. 

Want to be tagged?   navigation | main master lists | PROTECTION MASTERLIST

BIRMINGHAM, 1900:

Tommy first met her when his father took him to the docks. Arthur Shelby Sr. told impressionable young Tommy that there were kids he could play with by the docks. Tommy agreed, wanting to impress his father. On the way there, right outside of what looked like a house with many rooms, was her.

You were lonely and something in Tommy told him to play with you instead. Besides, the boys were too big around the docks. Arthur Shelby left him right outside the establishment and threw a shilling to you. You picked it up, stuffed it in your pocket, and looked at him.

He smiled at you widely, a tooth missing from his mouth and extended his hand towards you.

“I’m Tommy,” he said. You reciprocate the gesture, telling him your name and shaking his hand. You were more reserved, Tommy noticed. He was so used to the ruckus in their house that he expected every child to be as energetic as them. “Why did my father give you money?”

“He wants me to play with you while he’s inside,” you said. “I don’t have many toys but…I do have this,” you said, showing him your wooden horse toy. They were your prized possession, one of the few gifts that your father sent when he promised the world to your mother.

“Oh! I love horses,” he said. “Do you? I like watching horses,”

“Yes,” you replied. “My mother said that my father owned many. I’ve never met him though. Where do you watch horses?”

“That’s alright. Fathers hit kids. See?” he said, showing you a bruise on his side quickly. “My mother puts ice on it and it tickles. We watch it in the races. My mum takes me for my birthdays. She usednto ride a white horse before. She told me. Do you go to school?”

“No,” you shook your head. “But my mum taught me how to read and how to write. Sometimes, Big Johnny teaches me arithmetic. One plus one equals two,”

“You’re smart. Who’s Big Johnny?”

You hummed, making the wooden horse gallop on the murky ground. People in the house all told you that you were. If only poor Mary Magdalene had the means to send you to school. If only. You stop your movements and move your toy towards Tommy.

“Here,” you said. “Big Johnny is the man who runs this place. He’s kind,”

“You won’t have a toy,” he replied.

“It’s okay. I have more but they’re in my mama’s room. My father sent them. Sorry if it’s dirty,”

“Thanks,” he said. It’s the first time anyone has ever given him something without asking for it. He keeps it with him; keeps the memory of a girl who watched him intently while he played with a toy horse. That’s why when his father exited the house, with less money in his pocket, Tommy asked if he could come again next time.

-

When the house closed, you ran to your mother’s room. You usually had to stay out until five in the morning, sleeping on the sacks right in front of the brothel until your mother woke you up. She’s been seeing less men these days…always cooped up in her room, asking for you. She didn’t mind if you stained her bed with sweat and grease. She’d ask how your day was and you told him about Tommy, the boy you met earlier.

“I’m glad you have a friend,” she coughed into her white handkerchief. The blood stain was normal now. You were worried at first, but your mother told you to never tell anyone. You just never knew how serious it all was when you slipped once. You were talking to Big Johnny; he was teaching you how to subtract.

“If I help you, are you going to pay me?” you asked, perched on his lap. He had been the only father figure in your life. He’d help your mum surprise you for your birthdays and give you some money every now and then.

“Pay you? You’re robbing me,” he kids. “What do you need the money for?”

“I’m planning to buy mum a present. A nice handkerchief,” you said. “The one she has has blood—“

“What is it, bug?” he asked, eyebrows furrowing.

“Nothing,” you shrugged, smiling sickly sweet.

“You have to tell me,” he replied. “It’s your—your safety,”

It was your turn to look confused.

“But mum told me to never tell anyone,” you whispered, heart racing. What did he mean by it? “Why would I not be safe? I’m safe. I have mum with me,”

Big Johnny ran his hand through his hair, then his chin. You knew that it was a sign of his agitation, so you relented.

“You can’t tell anyone,” you whispered. “But mum has been coughing up blood for a while. She said it’s fine. You won’t take her from me right, Johnny?”

“Fuck, kid,” he sighed, stressed at the sudden turn out of events. “No more arithmetic today, okay? I’ll go talk to your mum. Just go outside or play or whatever,”

“Is everything okay?” you asked, panic rising in your throat. It constricts while you keep yourself from crying.  “Mum will be so mad at me! Please don’t tell on me,”

“Do you know why she’s coughing up blood?” he asked, his voice serious. He knew that you had to be talked to in his “adult voice” for you to listen. You knew that he needed to be stern for you to listen.

“N-no…” your hair falls messily as you shake your head, picking on your nail beds.

“She’s sick, bug,” he said. “If we don’t do anything about it, you could get sick too. The two of you might die,” he explained. “Look, kid…you have a bright future ahead of you, alright?”

“What will you do?” you asked. “You can’t take her from me! Please, Johnny. My mum is all I have,” you cried, tears started flowing once the first one dropped.

Johnny couldn’t do anything else. He relented but locked your mother in her room. Whenever you went in, he made sure you had some face mask on to protect yourself. You only saw her for a few minutes every day. Parting her was painful and Johnny had to console you while you cried. He gave up his bunk and slept in his workspace so you won’t have to sleep with your mum.

A week later, your mum died of lung cancer.

It was too late, the doctor explained. Johnny let you stay in his bunk, never mind the fact that he had no space for himself now. He didn’t mind. You were his top priority. How is he going to raise a child in a brothel?

-

Your mother always told you that as long as you were with her, you would never be lonely. There was no burial, just her body being thrown and burned with the rest of Birmingham’s garbage. It made you wonder what your body would be like dead. You decided to never end up like her, one way or another you were getting out.

Tommy continued to visit you, but he knew that you were different now. It has only been a week and you’ve grown up so fast. When he arrived, a box of your toy horses was prepared for him.

“What’s this for?” he asked, eyes brightening up at the sight of the box. His father threw a shilling your way again.

“It’s for you. I don’t want to play anymore,” you said. “I kept one white horse for me but you can have them.”

“Why not?” he asked, galloping the toy you gave him last week. “Thank you. I don’t have my own. I always have to share with Arthur, John and Ada.”

“My mom died…you were my first friend and you never met her,” you said, tears falling on the ground. “I’ve been living in Big Johnny’s room,”

“I’m sorry for your loss,” he said. “My Aunt Pol says that friends are there for each other. I’m…I’m your friend,”

You smiled a teary smile, appreciating the underlying message behind his words. He’ll be there for you. But until when?

-

BIRMINGHAM, 1905

Fifteen, you were fifteen. You haven’t even turned fifteen for a week and you were working. The owner of the house told Big Johnny that if you wanted to keep living there, you would have to work too. Johnny had no place for himself, no house—his money all went to you. Your clothes, the books you’ve read, the food you ate. He'll get you a cake with a candle along with a pound for special occasions. If you were lucky, some of the girls would give you something. Tommy’s dad stopped coming and so was the shilling you got.

He stayed, though. He’d talk to you about school and how he wanted to leave.

“You’re lucky you’re in school,” you said, watching Tommy smoke a cigarette. You were never a fan if them, seeing as your mother died of fucking lung cancer. “You have to stay,”

“I’m not built for it though. They’re all so boring,” he said, blowing the smoke away. “If only I could work like you. Why are you dressed so nicely anyway?”

“The owner told me to work,” you shrugged, pulling the strap of your dress back on your shoulder. “Johnny asked the boss if I could help him with the girls and management, but he said no. Wanted me to work because it will bring more money in,” you bitterly replied. “I want to go to school but the fucking boss wanted me to present myself as a Cherry Girl. You wanna know what that is?”

“What?”

“A fucking virgin.” you shrugged. “Said many men will pay for someone like me. Today’s my first night and Johnny cried a little bit when he saw me. I’d kill and die to go to school, Tom.”

“Shit, love, I’m sorry. I was being insensitive,” he offered. “Hm, maybe you’ll bag one rich man you know? Some rich bloke from London and he’ll take you. Besides, at least you smell nice,”

“This shit is awful,” you countered, sighing. You blinked back the tears that threatened to spill. “Fuck, I said I wasn’t going to cry tonight.”

“Hey,” he said, sitting closer to you. He wraps your arm around you and lets you stay there. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I’ll stay in school and do well, okay? I’ll study so hard; I’ll take you out of here. Let you live in a mansion with lots of space to run in. Fuck, I’m sorry, love,”

“It’s not your fault, Tommy,” was your weak reply. “I’m just…I told myself that I would never be like my mother and now, I am,”

“You’re not her,” he whispered, tightening his arms around you.m, never mind if the grease and sweat of his clothes mixed with your perfume. “You’re not her.”

-

BIRMINGHAM, 1906

“Fuck, Tom. You can’t stay here while I’m working,” you scolded. You were lying, you appreciated the fact that Tommy was here. He’ll wait until you finish your shift, until you meet your quota. It was always quick, though. You had a rich patron that covered your every living expense.

“My patron’s coming,” you told him, and he tenses. He remembered the way you cried to him after your first ever shift last year. How some old fuck didn’t even bother. He finished and threw you some coins. He remembered his rage when you told him about this new guy. He’s quite scary but he pays the most, you said. “He doesn’t like seeing me with other men,”

“I’m a man now?” he quips, a smirk on his lips. “It’s not like I can afford it. I’m broke. Besides, I’ll act like a bodyguard, yeah? All I ask for payment is a day out with you. Aunt Poll is cooking something on Sunday. Want you to eat something that’s not whatever is being cooked here. We can go on a picnic. I met a girl who worked at this mansion, and they have lots of flowers in the garden. Shit you’ll like,”

You offered him a slight smile, nodding.

“Will your aunt be okay with…me eating your food?” you asked. Tommy took notice of how insecurity laced your voice. His suggestions of meeting his family have always been met with resistance. He understood. Although Polly has been insisting on meeting the girl he’s been spending his time with, he couldn’t risk his father recognising you and then, treating you like trash.

“Of course. She’s been more annoying. Told my mum about the girl I’m seeing,” he said. “I’ll be the first boy to take you out, hm?”

“Shut up,” was your only reply.

Sunday comes and you asked your boss for a day off.

That day, Tommy took you to the garden with Polly’s chicken stew and his mum’s fig cake. Tommy didn’t let you work, he set down the food and opened the containers.

“The best meal you’ll ever have,” he said while you sat. “I should’ve done this earlier. What have you been eating?”

“I’m lucky enough to be fed. Johnny gets me some food out of the brothel sometimes.” you said. “Thanks for taking me here. I love it.”

“I knew it,” he said, spooning out your portion and giving it to you.

“I want to have a house with lots of flowers. Different coloured blooms all year round.” you said.

“The caretaker of the garden says that we can pick some flowers. Do you want to take some home?” he asked. You nodded, a flush on your face. How could someone not love him?

BIRMINGHAM, 1908

“How have you been my angel?” he asked, twirling your hair in between your fingers. “Can’t believe I missed you last week,” he mumbles, kissing your shoulder. You giggled. “I was in London and all I could think of was you,”

“I’ve never been to London,” you told him. “Are you going to take me there?” you asked, wide-eyed. He’s been your patron since you reached 18. He was quite younger than your usual customers. He always came to visit when you were seventeen but never looked at you. As if that made it better.

“You haven’t?” he asked. “I’ll take you there, Angel. I’ll show you the whole world. Hm?”

“You will?” you asked, faux excitement in your voice. He loved this; you knew. He loved that you were a fragile little bird in need of saving. He loved that you’d listen to him talk about his father. He’s the sappy kind. He liked to hold hands, talk, and make love. He’s paid you more than anyone else and gave you a hefty allowance. Big Johnny didn’t have to think about your safety anymore. “I want to go to the city! Buy everything that I see and just…breathe a different air,” you said.

“Fuck, baby, I’ll take you there and buy you everything you ever lay your eyes on. I’m not fucking around. I’ll take you there,”

“You will?” you asked. “I don’t like the idea of you leaving me. Did you know that? Sometimes, when you leave, I have to lock myself in my room and refuse everyone,” you lied. You locked yourself in because your quota was already met. You were just saying these things to keep him coming back. A little bit of pretending never hurt you. It meant a bigger tip, more money.

“Yeah?” he asked.

“Of course,” you said. “You’re my hero…”

Somehow, you didn’t find yourself lying when you told him. You felt dirty, you felt like your mother when she thought your father would give her the world. But Simon paid big money to have you alone for multiple nights a week.  No other customers were to ask for services.

“I’m your hero, alright…you’re my little bird. I’m dead set on taking you with me to London. Once I get my inheritance, I’ll show you the world and get you out of these slums.”

-

BIRMINGHAM, 1909

“You don’t have to do this anymore,” Tommy said. You were well enough to have your own place somewhere near the docks now. Johnny had given you some furniture that the house wasn’t using anymore, helping you fix the tables and the chairs that you would be using.  You didn’t have to live at the brothel anymore and it was all thanks to Simon.

“Don’t be ridiculous, Tommy,” you chuckled. “Do you like my place?” Tommy looked around, flowerpots littered your house.

“I’m serious.” he asked. “I’ll have you safe in Small Heath,”

“And my job? What will pay for this place? I finally have enough space for my flowers.” you asked. “I can’t just leave. Come on, you have to see the view on my balcony.”

You dragged Tommy’s hand to the balcony to show him the view. You were a little far from the docks now but from your balcony you can see it. The blue water, the usual chaos…you were smiling so freely, so beautifully. Tommy stills, unspoken words lingering in the air. You could realise it too…you’ve been realising it slowly. The world was in your hands. You could seize it if you wanted it. It fills Tommy with determination. It pumps through his veins, and it rings in his ears. Determination, consistency, and power. Three things to play with the world…three things that he’ll have. He could get you a bigger house. If he played right, he could have it all.

“This is why I got this place,” you said. “I mean, there were others but the view of the docks…I used to think everything about it was so ugly, you know? So grey, so evil…so grotesque but from the vantage point, everything is different,” a soft smile played on your lips when you let go of Tommy’s hand. He already missed your touch. “I can’t leave my job now because I wouldn’t have this,”

“I’ll work for it,” he says proudly.

“Tom, I know you’re not happy with how I earn money. Fuck, I’m not happy too. I hate that job. I know you hate it when I turn down your offer. But I have nothing else. You have to support your siblings. Don’t you get it? We’re all whores, Tom. We just sell different parts of ourselves. Mine just so happens to be my body.”

It enrages him and you could see it. See his face fall apart, how his jaw ticked.

“I’ll do it.” he said. “I’ll fucking do it. You think I’m fucking around when I tell you that I’ll protect you? I will. I’ll make a name for myself and protect you. I’ll fucking protect you; I swear on my life.”

“I know you will, Tom,” you said, inching closer. “But can’t you just be happy for me? This once?”

“We could add a little chair right here,” he relented. How could he ever tell you how much he hated himself for not being enough right now?  “I’ll bring some of Polly’s flowers. You’d let me stay here?”

“Only if you’re being nice,”

“What if I’m too tired to make the trip back to Small Heath? Can I stay here?” he asked.

“Sure,” you shrugged. “But only if you have food for me or something,”

“Or something? You’re not letting me stay for free? I’m your best mate,” he chuckled. “I mooch off you all the time,”

“You have more than I do. It’s time for me to mooch off on you,”

“Yeah? Well, I want yours,” he said. “I’m glad though…that you don’t have to live there anymore. You’re safer here,”

“Thank you, Tom,” you smiled, sitting by the railing of your balcony. “I’m glad too.”

“I’ll make sure you’re protected,” he promises.

“How?”

“I’ll protect you.”

-

BIRMINGHAM, 1910

Tommy gave you the number of his telephone years ago. You were shaking, something bad had happened and you didn’t know who else to turn to. Big Johnny was too busy breaking up fights in the bar beside the brothel. You walked home shakily. Tommy called the brothel earlier to tell you that he couldn’t make it tonight because of some gang business. It was fine, of course. So, you went to the market to buy some supplies. You just didn’t know that he would be there.  

You were waiting for someone to pick up the phone, biting your perfectly manicured nails.

“Who’s calling?” a woman asked from the other line. Her tone was snippy, and you knew she meant business.

“Hi,” you cleared your throat. “I’m looking for Tommy Shelby?”

“Who is this?” she asked, confused as to why a woman would suddenly call Tommy in such a manner. She was used to Tommy’s girls calling, an embarrassment usually hinted when they spoke. But this new girl had no shame.

“I’m a friend of Tommy’s,”

“Tommy has many girlfriends. You’re going to have to be specific,” she said, intrigued.

“Oh, of course,” you said. You told her your name. “Is he there?”

“Tommy!” you could hear her voice call. “Some girl is on the phone for you!”

“What, Poll?” he asked, scowling.

“Pick up the phone, Tom. Your friend is asking for you,” she said, passing the phone to him. She didn’t leave the room immediately, sitting on the nearby chair instead to listen in.

“Tommy Shelby,” he says, and you breathed a sigh of relief.

“Tommy,” you whispered. “He was there…he was there.”

“Who, love?” Tommy asked. Polly noticed how his voice softened, how his stance relaxed. “Do you need me there?”

“He was one of my customers before,” you forced out. “He was always…rude and rough,” you choked. “I hate this fucking job, Tommy. I fucking hate it and he treated me like an object today just because he paid for my services years ago,” you sobbed. “I’m sorry. I know you were busy but I fucking hate it,”

“Shh…it’s okay, love. It’s okay. I’m going over there, and you could tell me,” he said. “Will that be alright?”

“I—yes,” you nodded, wiping your tears hastily. “I got some of your favourite fruit from the market today. Didn’t know you have an expensive taste,”

He chuckled softly.

“I’ll see you, alright?” he asked. “Keep the doors locked. I have my copy,”

“Okay, Tommy. Stay safe for me?” you asked.

“Of course.” Tommy put down the phone until he heard you end the line. He sighed and went to go get his coat until he saw Polly with an eyebrow raised. “Fuck, I didn’t see you there,”

“Who would? You were too lovestruck to notice anything,” she teased. “That’s the girl you’ve been seeing?”

“We’re friends, Pol,” he clarified.

“She’s the girl from the docks, then?” she asked. Tommy nodded. “Fuck, that’s rough. She’s a whore,”

“Don’t,” he said, an edge to his voice. “Don’t call her that. I’m trying to build something for all of us, Pol. For her. She hates her job…she fucking hates it and I can’t do anything about it,”

“You don’t have to save her, Tom. You can’t save everyone,” she said but she knew that Tommy was stubborn. Everything that she’ll say will fall on deaf ears.

“It’s all her,” he said, clearing his throat. “I’ll get her out of there if it’s the last thing I do.”

The walk to your place was unnerving. Thoughts swarmed in his head. If he only had it in him to murder the man who dared to look at you. He’s never made peace with how you earned your money, but he still happily showed up after every shift. You never talk about your customers, and he didn’t like to ask.

“Tommy, you’re here,” you greeted. He could see how swollen your eyes were; how red they were.

“Of course, I am,” he replied. “Are you okay?” He hangs his coat on the coat rack and walks towards the couch where you were seated.

“I am now,” you sniffed. “I’m sorry for making you worry but this job…people reduce me to such an object. I didn’t even know his name, you know?”

“I know, love.” he said, his heart beating inside his chest. What was it? What was the beating?

“Tommy, I’m going to make a request. It’s absurd and we haven’t done it yet…”

“What?” he whispered, unsure.

“Can-can you hold me?” you asked. “You don’t have to but…I have no semblance of what it’s like to be loved anymore. I want to pretend. At least for tonight, somebody out there loves me.”

“You don’t have to pretend,” he said. “You’re my friend. Of course, I love you.”

You only smiled, snuggling closer to Tommy. You were his friend…only a friend. How else would he look at you differently? You still had to pretend because the love that he was willing to give was not the love that you were looking for.

-

BIRMINGHAM, 1911

Multiple knocks on your door woke you up. Someone was screaming your name outside and you felt yourself panic. You took the gun that Tommy gifted you last year and crept down the stairs. You opened the door slowly to reveal two men—one older and one younger. The younger one had a smirk playing on his lips while the other looked panicked.

“Who are you?” you asked, tightening the gun behind your back.

“Arthur Shelby,” the one with the beard replied. You nodded. “I’m Tommy’s older brother. This is John,”

“Where…where’s Tommy?”

“He asked us to come get you,” John replied. “We mean no harm.”

“What happened to him?” you asked. “Come in,”

The brothers entered your house and watched you lay your gun on the table. An unspoken threat.

“Tommy’s not in a good place,” Arthur replied. “Well, he’s asking for you. He’s having these…episodes. I don’t fucking know what thr fuck they’re called but sometimes, he calls for you when he shuts down,”

“It's even worse today,” John added. “Our mother died,”

“Oh, shit. I’m sorry,” you said, offering a small smile. “Will you let me dress better? I’ll come with you,”

You met the brothers outside of your house, your gun secured on your skirt.

“Are you Tommy’s whore?” John asked as you walked.

“John!”

“I’m not his fucking whore,”

“So, why is he always at the brothel by the docks?” he pressed.

“We met when we were kids. Your dad used to visit the brothel with him,” you shrugged. “I never understood why your father took him there all the time. It’s a dangerous place,”

“Why were you there?”

“My mother worked there. I was born there. I grew up there,” you shrugged. “Tommy was my only friend growing up. Your father stopped coming but Tommy still managed to show up,”

“I see,” Arthur replied. “You’re the girl who gave him toy horses when we were kids, then. He never let us touch them. Even now, he has them lined up on his wall,”

“Yeah, I was. I gave it to him a week after my mother died,” you recalled.

“I’m sorry for calling you his whore,” John said. He realised now that your relationship with Tommy was deeper. It was more meaningful than he realised.

“It’s okay,” you let out a small smile. “It’s a fair assumption,”

Minutes of silence passed by, and your group stopped in Watery Lane. You’ve never been in his house before; you never had the time to do so. You were also quite ashamed to show yourself. How could you prove that you weren’t after Tommy’s money if that's exactly what you are after men?

The door of the house opens, and you assume it was Polly. The same woman who you talked to on the telephone before.

“He’s in his room upstairs. Last door to the left,” she said.

“Thank you,” you rushed to where Tommy was. You didn’t bother to stay and eavesdrop. You were there for Tommy. You knocked on his door slightly.

“Stay the fuck away from my door or I will kill you,” he shouted. You cracked the door open slightly.

“It’s me, Tom,” you said. He rose from his bed and rushed towards you, flinging his arms around you. He pulled you closer. “Hi,”

“She’s dead,” he murmurs against your hair. “My mum’s dead. My dad left. I didn’t even like him, you know? He always hit the three of us. I thought it would be better if he just fucking left but my mum died because he left. Now, I don’t have her.”

“I’m so sorry, Tommy,” you said. You knew he was still struggling after his father left many months ago. He was shaking in your arms, trying to grasp you tightly. Trying to be closer.  “I’m so sorry,”

“I…I don’t know what to do,” he said. “You never got to meet her. She’d love you; you know?”

“That makes us even,” you saw a small smile on his lips. “I’m here now, Tom. You could rest,”

“You’ll still be here when I wake up?” he asked meekly, like a child.

“I’ll be here,” you nod, caressing his cheek softly. He nods, yawning after he evened out his breathing.

“Shit, love. I’m so tired,” he yawned again. “Let’s both go to sleep. We deserve it. I’ll see you when I’m awake?” he asked, adjusting your position on his small bed.

“I’ll see you,” you confirmed, snuggling closer to him.

-

“Tommy’s playing a dangerous game,” Polly commented from downstairs. It has been met with no resistance.

-

BIRMINGHAM, 1914

“Good afternoon, Pol,” you smiled. You were invited for Sunday dinner, and you decided to bring cake from the bakery that Tommy liked. You’ve only met them last year, but you’ve become such an integral part of their family that people knew you were closely associated with them. Even Simon.

“Oh, you didn’t have to bring cake,” she said. “We’d rather you spend it somewhere,”

“It’s alright,” you said. “I wanted to do something nice,”

“Keeping Tommy levelheaded is nice enough. Seriously, what did you do?” Ada asked, chopping the vegetables. She was reluctant at first but now, she couldn’t go a week without ranting to you. Girls’ night is what she called them.

“I don’t know,” you chuckled. “May I help?”

“If you could kindly chop the carrots, please,” Polly said. You set yourself and rolled your sleeves, peeling the carrots first. “Tommy and the boys went out for a while. They said it was some business with the Blinders. While they’re out, how are you?”

“Oh,” you nodded. “Me?”

“Of course. Ada has been talking my ear off about some guy she’s so secretive about,” she scoffed.

“I’ve been working less,” you confessed. “I’m helping out on the counter. Helping Big Johnny with the money and the accounts. I work a few times a week now. Simon’s been frequenting the brothel and well, you know what Simon does. It helps that he doesn’t stay long. The brothel pays me for my assistance. I can buy you cake every week now,”

“Don’t do that. Finn will be spoiled rotten,” Ada says. “Besides, you deserve nice things for yourself, you know,”

“I know but I can’t help it,” you said with a soft smile. “I like doing nice things for you,”

The boys soon come through the door, spilling with laughter. Tommy makes a beeline towards you as soon as he spots you.

“How was the afternoon?” you asked, bumping your hips with him.

“It was good,” he said. “Finn got into a fight with some kids, and we had to deal with it.”

“Is Finn okay? I brought cake.”

“Just a bruised ego,” he chuckled. My favourite?”

“Of course,” you said. “But let’s pretend that it’s for Finn, alright?”

“It’s always for Finn,” he groans. “He has you wrapped around his finger,”

“He does. He’s such a charming kid,” you praised. “Where is he, anyway?”

“Taking a bath before dinner. You have me for now,” Tommy said. “Can I sleep at your house later?” he asks in a softer tone. He’s been sleeping at your place ever since last year. He said you make him sleep better.

“You know it’s never a problem,” you said. His presence made you feel safe. He made you feel secure. “Will we leave together?”

“Yes. I’d like to sleep as soon as possible,” he says, dropping his forhead on your shoulder. You only chuckled. “I’m so tired. So, so tired,”

“Who are they fooling?” Ada asked in whispers. “Are we sure they’re best mates?”

“They’ve insisted on it for years,” Arthur shrugged. “I don’t think they’re aware,”

“I don’t think so either,” John says. “But Tommy throws a fit whenever she has to meet that Simon prick. Calls him a rich bastard.”

“He is a rich bastard,” Ada nodded. “She says he just came into his inheritance. Ammunitions,”

“Shit. She hit the jackpot, then,” John commented. “Wonder how that’s gonna go?”

“There’s nothing to wonder, John,” Arthur says. John could only nod his head.

-

You stumbled inside your house around half past midnight. You were both quite tipsy, having drank Pol’s stocks of wine. The Shelby Company Ltd. has been gaining more popularity now, along with the Blinders. Hell, Tommy even posted two Blinders to guard you. “For when I’m not around,” he said.

“Pol’s going to kill me for giving Finn too much cake,” you giggled, leaning on him.

“I reckon you’re banned from Sunday dinners,” Tommy jokes, taking his shoes off. He takes note of how you’re dressed today. “You know you can remove all the fucking things on your body right? Rouge…the jewels. Where’d you get them? Is the rich bastard buttering you up?”

“I like it. Dressing up makes me happy,” you frowned. “I’m allowed to like nice things, right?”

“Right,” his jaw ticked. It should be him who's giving you these gifts…showing you a lavish life. He hated it. “Later?”

“Later,” you nodded. “When I’m banned from Sunday dinners, you wouldn’t let me be left out, right?”

“‘Course not,” he shrugged, pulling you to your bedroom like he owned the place. You didn’t mind. You were happy to see that he was comfortable in your home. “You’re my best girl.”

“That’s what you say to your horses,”

“You’ve got really good horse sense and you’re always on your high horse,” he says, peeling his coat away. He was rummaging in your chest now, looking for clothes he might have left until he settled on a simple white shirt and pyjama pants.

“Yeah, yeah. You and your horse wordplay.” You entered the bathroom to dress down. Just like Tommy, you settled in his shirt and pants. They were more comfortable than singlets and you certainly didn’t want to make Tommy uncomfortable.

He was already waiting for you on the bed when you came back. He pats the space beside him. You obliged. You were looking into each other’s eyes with small smiles, Tommy’s finger trailing down your arm absentmindedly.

“I…” words died in his throat before he could get them out. “I…”

“What is it, Tom? Are you okay?”

“I’ll get you out of here,” he rasps. “I’ll get you out of there and I won’t let you work a day in your life anymore.”

“Tommy,” you sighed. “I can’t—can’t leave this job. It’s all I have,” He tightens his arms around you, afraid that you’ll ask him to let go.

“I know but once I come back from the war—“

“The war?” you asked, removing his arms around you. “War?”

“We enlisted,” he clarifies, trying to gauge your reaction. “Once I come back, I’ll be so fucking rich. I’ll have you. I’ll keep you and you won’t have to lift a finger. We’ll live in a mansion and have servants. Just like what we used to talk about,”

“Tommy, you’re going to war?” you asked, standing from the bed. His eyes watched you settle down shakily on the single chair by the bed. “Fuck. You’re going to war. You’re going to leave me,”

“No, love. Come on, I—“ he grunts, sitting up from his relaxed position.

“It’s war, Tommy! They change people…I don’t want to lose you; do you not get that? Are you not happy here? Is that why you're throwing your life away?”

“I’m not throwing my life away,” he says, a frown. “We’ll be drafted one way or another because we’re poor. Might as well do it now than be forced. Some of my men will still watch over you every now and then. They’ll still make sure that you’re safe. We’ll send letters. Alright?”

“Letters,” you scoffed. “And what if the letters stopped coming?”

“Don’t say that, please,” he begs. “I’m doing this for all of us. The business will be handled by Polly and when I’m back, I’ll make it even bigger. Alright? You have to trust me,” You didn’t even want to ask about the business. You didn’t want to ask why more men wore peaky caps. You didn’t want to ask what the Shelby Company Ltd. really was. Not now.

“I know you will, Tom,” you said. “But I’m scared. For the first time since I’ve known you, you won’t be here. I’m scared,”

Tommy lays his hand on your shoulder. Words he couldn’t say lingered in the air. I’ll marry you once I step foot in England. He didn’t know what else to say; didn’t know if there was still something to say. So, he kneels before you and makes you look at him. You were crying. So afraid, so alone.

“I’m sorry,” he says.

“When will you be leaving?”

“I have two more days,” he says. “Will I still see you?”

“Yes, of course,” you said. “You’ll come back for me?”

“Of course. I have a picture of you already in my pocket. I have to make sure to come back to you,” he said. “and everyone else, of course.”

He fishes a necklace from his pocket, his mother’s locket.

“Here,” he said, showing it to you. It was one of the last pieces of jewellery she owned. “Mum gave it to me. You know I’ve always worn it. I want you to wear it now. Think of it as a loan, yeah? You’ll give it back once we see each other again,”

“Tommy, I—“

“I want you to accept it. I want you to see you wear it now. I want to see you wear it before I leave. But most of all I want for us to stay the same,” he says, holding you and kissing your hair softly. You couldn’t push him away. You’ve longed for this your whole life. To be held, to feel loved. It’s all you’ve ever wanted.

“I’m sorry. So, so, so fucking sorry.”

“I don’t think you’re wasting your life away,” you cleared your throat. “I’m so—I’m so proud of you and your bravery. I’m so proud of you but I can’t be fucking happy for you. I don’t want to wake up every day knowing that you’re not here. I don’t want to have to guess if you were alive or not.”

“I am,” he promises. “I’ll be alive. I’ll come back as your Tommy. Just…wait for me, alright?”

You clung onto Tommy two days later by the train. He whispered that he would come back. He said that he will make sure of it. He breathes in the smell of your hair—roses. He envelopes you in his arms once more and turns to leave, never looking back. You knew, in your hysterics, that if he comes back from the war, the same old Tommy you used to know would never be.

PART 2 PART 3

TAGLIST:  @shelbydelrey @runnning-outof-time @duckybird101 @thenattitude @swordofawriter @litteltourtius​ @trixie23​ @everythingelseisextra​

[randomcreator-09]

I'll Fold Like the Makahiya Leaves (Thomas Shelby x Reader)

This gif makes me go feral 👹👹👹

✨NSFW [Mention/Scene of cheating (Not Tommy), p n v, Unprotected (Wrap it before you Tap it *wink), Oral (both), Language], Thomas "gentleman" Shelby, You one rich bish (Daughter of a duke), and mention of death✨

🐧Hello!!!~ I have exams so I tried finishing this before I can go study my ars off. Also got 8 vaccinations in one go :"D so if you don't hear from me after this month I'm dead XD HAHAAHA Kidding I wont die... becuase I have more than one personality in me >:D. Also this may be a BIT long :”D BUT its a lovely story I swear :”3 sorry heh… for those who don't know what Makahiya Leaf (Humble Plant) is... Its this🐧

Anyways :3 have fun reading ^^

-----(Before the War, City of Bermingham)

The streets of Birmingham always seemed to move a little slower when you passed through. You’d see the familiar faces, offering them polite smiles and small nods from your carriage window, though your mind was always somewhere else. Your father taught you well—manners, grace, independence—but you never felt quite like the lady everyone saw.

Your father, the Duke, made sure to hire the best-of-bests to teach you everything, Literature, Combat, and Cooking. You were the best at everything as well, although your preferred cooking to which your father gifted you a restaurant of your own on your eighteenth birthday (which you managed perfectly).

At times like this when you'd be looking out the window, you’d often catch sight of Thomas Shelby, the man you secretly adored from afar, standing near his betting shop. His eyes would meet yours for the briefest of moments before he nodded in acknowledgement. It was strange, the way your lives always seemed to brush against each other but never really connected. Your father knew the Shelbys, business of course, but his feelings toward them were mixed. He respected Thomas’s sharp mind, but he didn’t want you getting too close to a man from a family like that. Especially since you were the only thing his wife left him after passing away, he was not risking it.

Not that it mattered at the time. You were, after all, engaged to Billy Kimber, a man of status, a man your father approved of.

"You have arrived Miss" your driver shouted from the outside as your footman opened the door.

"Thank you, Mister" as you jumped out of the carriage to your fiance's house.

You planned to surprise him by visiting him. Bringing along with you the pasta you cooked especially for him. With a small smile, you went forward not knowing that this was where your life would fall apart. Going in you'd see a mess was made in the living room, the maids looked at you a worry as if they warned you not to go upstairs. You slowly go up to see clothes scattered around the staircase and panic ensues in your mind. Finding his room, you slowly open the door a little to only discover Billy entangled with a woman—with your closest friend, no less. The betrayal cut deep, and you didn’t know what to do with the pain. You slowly closed the door as you went downstairs. Billy's groans and your friend imprinted on your mind like torture, you gave one of the maids the pasta and left.

-----

Calling off the wedding, your father cut all connections with Billy. Highly disappointed with his actions as he comforted you. You cried all week, eyes swollen in tears as you curled up to your knees on your bed. You just loved him too much it hurt.

After weeks of torture and isolating yourself. You hear from the maids that a war was in the midst. A sudden idea comes to your mind, as you ran to your father's office. The pain and torture of the memory bruising your kind heart, bringing you to a decision that only made sense at the time—you volunteered for the war effort, not as a soldier, but in a position that still gave you purpose: a culinary officer overseeing the mess halls (an Admin is what your father pushes you to do, but he made his connections make sure you cook too becuase your were very adamant about it).

Your father had connections in the war. Giving you that choice to be in war but not on the field, but still do the thing you loved the most. You buried your heartbreak in the work, letting the chaos of war drown out the memories.

-----(During the War, Meeting Thomas Shelby)

The clang of pots, the smell of food cooking, and the steady rhythm of military life became your new normal. You found comfort in the kitchen, in the work. It was easier to focus on meal preparations, and managing the chefs and budgets than to think about everything else you’d lost. Over time, the carefree, kind girl you used to be slipped away. You became mature, more efficient, and more respected. But there was still a part of you that missed who you had been.

As the day passed by, normal as it may be, you supervised the mess hall as the staff served soldier after soldier. As you passed by the back to oversee the service, a loud bang shattered across the room.

"Danny! Calm down!" A man with blue eyes exclaimed as he tried to pin the bigger man down he flipped all the tables and screamed which echoed through the halls.

You ran out the back of the kitchen and helped the other man, successfully pinning him down to the floor.

"You're alright! Danny!," you spoke in a calm tone to Dannys' ears as he continued heaving. You patted his back and talked him out of his oblivion.

"Wars outside Danny, you're in the mess hall, you're safe here," you whispered as his breathing slowly normalized.

The man with blue eyes looked over you in suprise, as he lifted Danny off the floor who was now apologizing. You said it was alright as you commanded the staff to clean his mess. You knew what the war did to people and this was almost an everyday occurrence in the mess hall.

As nurses escorted Danny out of the mess hall, the man with blue eyes approached you and spoke, "Sorry bout that, Ms. Y/L."

You then turned around to look at him and were surprised to see Thomas Shelby, how could you have missed that? "Mr. Shelby? You serve in the war?" was the only thought in your mind as he stared at you with his icy blue eyes. He nodded, "and you... manage the mess hall," he said with a small smile, you nodded.

This was the only time you two conversed fully, You've always wondered how'd he sound like, your father never really wanted you to approach him so he usually just greets you by tapping his hat and that's that.

However, after this day, Thomas Shelby started appearing in the kitchen almost every day. At first, it was just a glance as he passed by, greeting you as he walked by with his brothers who were smiling at you. But soon, he was offering his help—carrying supplies and staying after meals to clean up. You didn’t question it at first (since every other soldier would do the same, even his brothers), his presence was different, warm to be exact despite this cold war going on. You’d exchange a few words, small talk about the war, but nothing too personal. Yet, there was a quiet understanding between you. You both knew what it was like to feel the weight of the world on your shoulders and soon conversations ran deeper. To you explaining about your mother's passing, to him exchanging the information on how his father left their mother. It felt really warm having him at this times.

------

One evening, as you finished overseeing the evening’s meal preparations, you felt him watching you again. You kept your eyes on the work, your hands steady as you diced vegetables. “You’ve got a habit of being in places you don’t belong,” you remarked, not looking up but knowing he was there.

“And you’ve got a habit of working to the bone, love.” he replied, his voice low but teasing.

You finally looked at him, meeting his eyes. “It’s better than thinking about what’s out there.” you placed the knife down and sat on the edge of the desk.

Thomas nodded, his gaze softening. “I could say the same.” approaching you as he took another pair of knives out, "Mind if I help?" he picked up a potato as he looked at you waiting for your permission.

You shook your head and smiled at him before taking the potato out of his hand, "It's alright, I don't want you hurting yourself like last time." Pointing at his injured fingers.

He chuckles as he places his hands deep in his pocket. "I'll just accompany you then," as he leaned on the desk watching you skillfully slice the vegetables, he was in awe at how your delicate hands seemed so soft even after so long.

He stood there in silence for a while, and then, Arthur and John stepped in, laughter spilling from their lips as they approached.

“Look who it is ey?! The lady chef! Our dear Ms. Y/L” John called out, a teasing lilt in his voice, as he held your hand and kissed it softly. “You’ll be cooking for our wedding feast soon!”

You rolled your eyes, trying to suppress a smile. “You’ll have to find someone to marry first, John.”

Arthur chimed in, grinning widely. “I’m sure if you keep cooking like this, y/n, you’ll have all the men lining up for you.” his strong accent apparent as he spoke.

“Better watch out, Tommy,” Arthur said, glancing back at Thomas with a smirk. “I think you might have competition.” pointing his chin out the window with other men peeping at her. They then quickly hid as Arthur pointed at them, like mice seeing a big scary cat.

You caught Thomas's eye for a moment, and he raised an eyebrow, seemingly amused (annoyed?). “I think you’re the one who should be worried,” he replied dryly, nodding in your direction. “With her cooking, she’ll have any man she wants.” as he looked down, definitely not liking the attention you're getting from other men.

John leaned in closer, a playful glint in his eye. “How about we place a little wager, then ey? I bet you’ll fall for her before the war’s over.”

“What? Me?” Thomas replied, his voice laced with sarcasm. “You’re fucking out of your mind.” chuckling a bit nervously.

“Oh, come on!” John insisted, nudging Thomas playfully. “I’ll bet you a fiver you'll be chasing for her soon. She’s got that way about her, you know?” winking at you.

You couldn’t help but laugh, shaking your head. “I doubt Thomas would ever fold for someone like me," chuckling before contintuing, "but I'm in.” patting the bag of coins in your dress pocket.

Arthur smiled, leaning against the counter with an exaggerated sigh. “What do you say, Tommy?” John pressed, his excitement growing. “Ten Quids? Just for fun.”

Thomas rolled his eyes, but the corners of his mouth lifted slightly. “I’m n't part of this ridiculous bet. I have better things to do.”

“Yeah, like how to not smile at our lovely chef here,” John joked, causing you to blush slightly as you shook your head.

Thomas pushed his brother out, apologising to you, as the two brothers walked walked away, you felt a mix of embarrassment and amusement. The Shelby brothers were relentless, but there was something warm and comforting about their banter. It reminded you of the camaraderie you had lost.

You looked back at Thomas, who seemed to have softened a bit, as he walked towards you once again. “Don’t let them get to you,” you said, attempting to lighten the mood. “They tease because they care.”

He shrugged a flicker of appreciation in his gaze. “They’re n't wrong, though. You've got talent keeping us lot well-fed.” staring at the men outside the window as they ran away. You laughed at that.

“Only as long as you’re not causing too much trouble outside,” you replied, the smile breaking through his cold exterior.

His gaze lingered a moment longer, and you felt something shift in the air, but you were still worlds apart, separated by unspoken words and hidden emotions.

-----

As days passed, Thomas was asked to serve on the field again, but just before he left for the front lines, he did something you didn’t expect.

As he walked through the back kitchen with his hat in hand, he looked at you with concern, his eyes flickering with something you couldn’t quite place. “I don’t usually say things like this,” he began. “But I’ve had my eye on you long before this war.”

Your heart dropped. You didn't expect that Thomas Michael Shelby would have rendered feelings for you. However, you were not ready, not yet, not after the heartbreak you’d been through. “Tommy, I…” you stuttered, fidgeting your fingers behind as you looked him straight in the eye. Tears almost flow to your eyes.

“I know,” he interrupted gently. “I know about what happened with Billy.” As he walked towards you, closing the remaining distance, but making sure there was still space for comfort.

The mention of Billy made your chest tighten, and you looked away. “I'm sorry Tommy, I can’t, not yet. Not after everything…”

He nodded, walking forward a bit more as he kept his eyes on you. “I understand.” As he placed his warm lips on your forehead as you inhaled. You kept your eyes closed as you heard his footsteps go further, opening only when you heard it no more and with that, he was gone.

You sighed as you scolded your heart for not taking such a kind man in your life, but you were hurt, your heart still had that scar. Inhaling the crisp air of the kitchen, trying not to break down and cry, you turned and continued cooking. Thoughts spiralling through your mind.

-----

You exchanged letters after that, brief notes of friendship and support, what you both needed at the time. However, one day, you received a different letter. You opened it knowing it was from your father, Colored crimson red just like how your father loved, you opened it with delight.

Dear Ms. Y/N,

I hope this letter finds you in good health, despite the circumstances surrounding it. It is with profound sadness that I must inform you of your father’s passing. The Duke departed this life earlier this week, leaving behind a legacy that has touched many.

In light of these events, it is imperative that you return home immediately. There are important matters to discuss regarding the estate and your father’s wishes, and I believe it is crucial for you to be present for these conversations.

Please take the necessary steps to join us as soon as possible. Your presence is vital.

Yours sincerely,

Lord Benedict Hargrove

Solicitor to the Duke’s Estate

Tears balled down your cheeks.

You were alone now, you thought. Without your father's power you were now a nobody. This was the least of your care to he honest, you wanted to go home for one last time.

------

With this, you were excused from your duties to attend the succession meeting with your father's connecting family (people you've never met). Leaving the war to go home.

Your father left you a hefty sum of money (possibly all his wealth) and the business he gifted you on your eighteenth birthday. Your relatives scoffed at you for this as they only got material things he owned (which also caused so much). Greedy people, you thought, they never even visited your father before he died and now they're here taking his money. The title was not given to you though, it was given to your male cousin (who was only thirteen). That was fine, you didn't even need the money from him because you had your own, you needed him but that was impossible even with all the money in the world.

-----(After war)

As the dust of war settled and the world slowly began to stitch itself back together, you found yourself in a position you had never anticipated. With the title of Duke passing to your younger cousin, you embraced your independence, leaning into the fortune your father had left you. Your father’s birthday restaurant—your pride and joy—became a symbol of resilience, not only for you but for the entire community.

Determined to build a legacy that would make your father proud, you transformed the establishment into a hub for soldiers returning home, providing meals and solace after the chaos of war. Word spread quickly about the new culinary wonder in Birmingham, and soon your name became synonymous with quality and innovation in the restaurant business. You took risks, introducing bold flavours and dishes that spoke of both tradition and your flair, quickly gaining a loyal clientele that appreciated your artistry.

In a time when women were often relegated to the shadows of men, you stood firm, a woman at the helm of your empire. Your determination and skill earned you respect, not just among the patrons but also from your peers in the industry. You refused to be overshadowed by the legacy of your father or the titles of your male relatives. Instead, you carved your path, proving that you were more than capable of handling the business and the challenges it brought.

Despite the accolades and success, a part of you felt incomplete. You often found yourself gazing out the window of your restaurant, lost in thought, wondering where Tommy went, it has been a year since his last letter. His absence weighed heavily on you, each passing day filled with uncertainty. Did he think of you? Did he know about your father’s passing? Is he... alive? Questions lingered, unanswered, like shadows at the edges of your heart.

-----

The pub was quieter than usual that evening. You stood behind the bar, wiping down a glass as your mind drifted. Life after the war had changed you. You had returned to Birmingham, but you weren’t the same woman who had left. The kindness, the sweetness—you didn’t let it show anymore. People respected you, maybe even feared you, but they didn’t know you. Not anymore.

You bought a pub close to the Shelby business (Sold to you at a lower price due to your name being famous in Bermingham). You didn’t buy it for any sentimental reason. You didn’t expect to ever see Thomas again (although your heart strings it). You convinced yourself he was gone, just like so many others who never returned.

And then, the door creaked open.

At first, you didn’t look up. You were too busy with your thoughts, too used to the routine of tending the bar. But when the room fell silent and some men left, you felt it—a shift in the air. Slowly, you raised your head, and there he was. Thomas Shelby, alive and standing in the doorway, looking very much like a ghost from your past.

For a long moment, neither of you spoke. You just stared, your heart pounding in your chest.

“Tom-Tommy? Y-You’re alive,” you finally whispered, the words catching in your throat.

“I am,” Thomas replied, his voice calm but heavy with something you couldn’t quite name. Guilt, maybe. Regret. “I’m sorry for disappearing…” as he slowly approached you, hands squeezing his Garrison cap.

“Sorry?” You set the glass down with a thud, your hands trembling. “I thought you were dead, Thomas! For a whole year, I thought—” You stopped, choking on your own words. “Why didn’t you come back? Write a letter or something???”

Thomas stepped closer, his eyes never leaving yours. “I didn’t know how. After everything, I wasn’t sure…”

His words broke something inside you. All the emotions you’d been holding back came rushing to the surface, and before you knew it, you were crying—crying. “You left me!” you screamed, the words torn from deep within you. “You left me for months!” as you backed off the counter and flaunted to the cabinet wall.

Without a word, Thomas walks into the bar closing the distance between you, pulling you into his arms (Your customers leaving). You tried to push him away at first, beating your fists against his chest, but he held you tighter, his voice low and soothing. “I’m here now… I’m here.”

You collapsed into him, letting the tears come as he held you close. The world outside didn’t matter anymore. All that mattered was that he was here, and you weren’t alone anymore.

-----(Everyone left the pub, leaving you and Tommy)

Later that night, you sat at a small table in the corner of the pub, the firelight flickering around you. The warmth from the hearth contrasted sharply with the coldness you had felt all year. You and Thomas exchanged glances, words unspoken hanging heavy in the air between you.

He shifted in his seat, running a hand through his hair, the weight of unvoiced confessions lingering between you. “You’re different,” he said finally, his gaze intense. “Stronger. I admire that.”

You couldn’t help but let out a shaky breath, the compliment washing over you. “I had to be,” you replied softly. “After everything…”

The room fell silent again, and you felt the vulnerability creeping in. “I thought you’d forgotten about me,” you admitted, unable to meet his eyes. “After you disappeared, I thought—”

“I could never forget you,” he said, his tone firm. “Not a single day passed without you on my mind. I tried to shove it away, but the thought of you being hurt… it haunted me, it did.”

His confession hung between you like a delicate thread, fragile yet binding. Your heart raced as you met his gaze, the spark of something familiar igniting between you. “and yet you left, but I understand now,” you said, the emotion spilling over (he explained that he had to be admitted to the hospital after receiving a life-threatening wound, putting him in a coma for months and weak for the rest. A reasonable reason for you to forgive him like lightning). “Although, I thought I could never forgive you.” sighing in relief.

“And now?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper, a smile slowly tugging his lips.

You took a deep breath, feeling the weight of everything you’d been through. “I-I missed you. Admittedly.” before pausing to look at him. "I missed you, most ardently,"

A smile tugged at the corner of his lips. Then, out of nowhere, he said, “Then marry me.”

You blinked, sure you hadn’t heard him correctly. “What?”

“Marry me,” Thomas repeated, more sure this time. “I don’t want to waste any more time,” as he stands to walk closer to you.

You stared at him, your heart pounding. You had imagined this moment in so many ways, but not like this. You stood up with him as you looked into his eyes, and realized that you didn’t need time. You had known my answer all along.

“Yes,” You whispered, voice barely audible. “I’ll marry you, but you promise this time? No disappearing?”

He squeezed your hand gently, his eyes shining with sincerity. “I promise. No more running. I’ll fight for you.”

As he placed his hand on your waist with a knowing smile plastered on his face he grinned, pure happiness lighting up his face as he embraced you, lifting you off your feet in a whirlwind of joy. “I’ll make you the happiest woman in Birmingham,” he promised, his voice warm against your ear.

As he set you back down, breaths heaving from the joy you both shared, he placed his left hand on your cheek, gently caressing it. With his icy blue eyes locked onto your lips, he whispered, “May I?”

You nodded, but instead of waiting for him to make the first move, you pulled him closer by his collar, kissing him softly. The deep groan that escaped him sent a thrill through you as he tightened his grip around your waist with his right hand, while his left hand found its way to the back of your neck, deepening the connection.

The kiss was tender yet electric, answering the questions that had lingered in your mind for so long. He missed you, loved you, and that was all you needed. You pressed your forehead against his, feeling the warmth radiating between you.

With a surge of emotion, you kissed him again, this time more passionately, as if trying to pour all the lost time and unspoken words into that moment. The world outside faded away, leaving just the two of you, tangled in each other’s arms, lost in a whirlwind of feelings that had been building for far too long.

------

He groaned, and you held onto his shoulders, anchoring yourself to him as the kiss deepened, the world outside fading away. Good thing the pub was closed because, within moments, you found yourselves on the floor, completely lost in each other, breathless and exposed.

“Fuck, you feel so good, dear,” he moaned, his voice rough and filled with desire as he began to thrust in and out of you. His movements were slow yet deliberate, sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body, each thrust eliciting heavy moans from your lips.

You wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him closer, craving more of him. Every inch of your body pressed together ignited a fire within you, each thrust igniting a deeper longing. His hands explored your curves, fingers grazing your skin, sending shivers down your spine as you met each thrust with your own rhythm.

“Thomas,” you gasped, your head thrown back as the pleasure built, eyes meeting his fiery gaze. There was something primal in his expression, a raw need that matched your own.

He captured your lips again, the kiss becoming a desperate dance of tongues and breaths, a promise of everything you both wanted. With each thrust, he drove you closer to the edge, your body responding to his every move as if it were a well-rehearsed melody.

“I’ve missed… missed you, y/n,” he whispered against your lips, his breath hot and ragged. The weight of those words sank deep into your heart, and you pulled him closer as if the closeness could bridge the gap that time and circumstance had created.

With every thrust, the heat between you intensified, your bodies moving in perfect harmony. You could feel the pressure building deep within you, a coil wound tight, ready to snap.

“Thomas, I—” you gasped, unable to form complete thoughts as pleasure coursed through your veins. Your body responded instinctively, tightening around him, and with a final thrust, you were sent spiralling into bliss, your orgasm crashing over you like a wave.

“Yes, Y/n cum. Cum for me darling, I-fuck” Thomas softly groaned, feeling the way your body clenched around him, drawing him deeper into your warmth. He didn’t stop; he kept thrusting, wanting to prolong the pleasure that enveloped you both. Each movement sent another pulse of ecstasy through you, pushing you to heights you didn’t know existed.

“Please, Tommy” you whimpered, overwhelmed by the sensations, your body teetering on the edge once more. The overstimulation was almost too much, but you craved it, craved him. “I can’t… too much…”

“Just a little more, love,” he murmured, his voice low and sultry, completely lost in the rhythm of your bodies. He thrust harder, deeper, chasing his release, wanting to see you unravel beneath him again.

With a series of slow, deliberate thrusts, you felt the familiar rush build once more. The world around you blurred as you scratched his back. “Thomas!” you cried out, arching your back as the second orgasm hit, sending stars dancing, moaning as you looked straight into his icy blue eyes.

“Y/N!” he gasped, feeling the way you tightened around him again, the sight of you unravelling beneath him igniting a fire within him. He couldn’t hold back any longer, thrusting into you a few more times before he finally reached his climax, spilling himself on your stomach with a low groan.

The room fell silent, save for your heavy breathing as you both heaved from the intensity of what just happened. Thomas slowly withdrew, catching his breath, and a satisfied smile crept onto his lips as he looked down at you, flushed and blissed out.

“I’ll be right back,” he murmured, leaning down to plant a soft kiss on your forehead before rising to clean himself up. You watched as he retrieved a cloth and gently wiped away the remnants of your passion from your skin, careful and tender.

“Thank you,” you whispered, a shy smile tugging at your lips.

He returned to you, covering you with his big coat, the fabric enveloping you in warmth. You nestled against him, both of you laughing softly, the moment feeling almost surreal. You just did it on the floor.

“Quite the way to celebrate our reunion, eh?” he teased, his voice light, yet there was an underlying tenderness in his gaze.

“Definitely not what I expected,” you replied, your laughter echoing in the empty pub.

As you both settled into a comfortable silence, the warmth of the coat and each other enveloping you, the world outside faded away.

-----(Watery Lane)

The next morning, Thomas took you to meet the family. Arthur and John were already waiting when you two arrived, grinning like they’d just won a bet.

“Told ya she’d come around,” John said, elbowing Arthur. “Just took Tommy long enough.”

You laughed, shaking your head as you reached into my pocket and pulled out a small pouch of coins. “Here,” you said with a smile. “Your winnings.”

John chuckled as he pocketed the money, while Arthur grinned at you like you were already part of the family.

Polly watched you from her seat by the fire, her sharp eyes taking in every detail. After a long pause, she spoke. “You’ve got the backbone for this family,” she said looking deep into your eyes as she sighed. “You’ll do just fine,” Polly said approvingly. “You’ve got the strength to keep up with this lot.” puffing another hit on her cigar.

You smiled, feeling, for the first time in a long while, like you were exactly where you were meant to be. Felt like home.

-----(Married to Tommy <3)

Being married to Thomas Shelby meant more than just sharing vows; it meant a newfound power in Birmingham. There was an unspoken fear that rippled through the streets whenever his name was mentioned, and you could feel it. People admired you, not just because of your accomplishments, but because they understood the weight that came with being Mrs. Shelby. Thomas intended to keep you safe, to wrap you in a cocoon of protection that no one dared to breach. The knowledge that no one would dare hurt you, not with him at your side, filled you with a sense of security you had never known before.

As the sun began to set, painting the sky in hues of orange and purple, you prepared for Thomas’s return home. You had spent the day tending to the pub, the laughter and chatter of patrons ringing in your ears, but nothing compared to the excitement of having him back in your arms. The warmth of his presence was something you longed for, something that made your heart race just thinking about it.

The door creaked open to your shared home, and there he was—Thomas Michael Shelby, rugged and handsome, the familiar twinkle in his eyes igniting a spark within you. You walked to him, unable to contain your smile as you flung your arms around his neck. “Welcome home, my husband” you whispered, your heart swelling at the sight of him.

He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close, and you felt the world outside fade away. “I missed you, my wife” he murmured against your hair, his breath warm and comforting. Without hesitation, you leaned in, capturing his lips with yours in a soft yet passionate kiss. The moment felt electric, igniting a warmth that spread through your entire being.

As the kiss deepened, you could feel the weight of the day slip away. Thomas’s hands moved to your waist, drawing you closer as if he wanted to meld your bodies into one. You lost yourself in him, the world around you disappearing until it was just the two of you—lost in your universe.

Your heart raced as you pulled back, searching his eyes. There was a hunger there, an undeniable connection that only deepened with each stolen moment you shared. In that instant, you knew that this was where you belonged, wrapped in his arms, feeling utterly cherished.

Thomas leaned in again, this time capturing your lips with more urgency. His kiss was fervent, igniting a fire within you that made your breath hitch. The taste of him lingered on your lips, sweet and intoxicating, and you could feel the pull between you, a magnetic force drawing you ever closer.

He broke the kiss, his forehead resting against yours, his breath heavy. “Let’s not waste any more time,” he said, his voice low and filled with desire as he swept you off your feet. You gasped, both of you laughing softly, placing soft kisses on his neck as he walked up the stairs.

"Oh dear Tommy, I'll always fold like a Makahiya Leaf for you no?" chuckling as you licked his ear eliciting a deep groan from him.

"No worries y/n, I'll wait till you open again like, I always do" as he kicks the door close. As he laid you gently on the bed, the air between you crackled with anticipation. He kissed you as his hands pulled your nightgown up and your hands unbuttoned his vest and polo, leaving both of you naked in minutes (With Thomas in his trousers).

Thomas’s eyes darkened with desire as he took in the sight of you beneath him, the soft glow of the setting sun illuminating your features. You felt your pulse quicken as he leaned down, his breath warm against your skin.

“Just relax, love,” he murmured his voice a deep growl that sent shivers down your spine. He started trailing soft kisses along your collarbone, his lips warm and teasing, igniting every nerve in your body. Each kiss made you arch into him, craving more of his touch.

“Tommy,” you gasped, your fingers threading through his hair as you pulled him closer, urging him to continue. He chuckled softly, clearly enjoying the effect he had on you, and continued his descent, his mouth leaving a trail of heat along your skin.

His kisses travelled lower, savouring every inch of you. As he reached the hem of your dress, he hesitated for just a moment, locking eyes with you, seeking permission. You nodded, breathless with anticipation, and he wasted no time in lifting the fabric, exposing your bare skin to him.

“God, you’re beautiful,” he breathed, his eyes roaming over you as if you were a work of art. With a slow, deliberate motion, he kissed your thighs, igniting a fire within you. You squirmed beneath his touch, the sensation of his lips brushing against your skin almost too much to bear.

“Please, Tommy,” you pleaded, your voice thick with desire. He looked up at you, a wicked grin spreading across his face, before diving in, his mouth exploring you with a fervor that made your back arch off the bed.

His tongue worked magic, teasing and exploring, eliciting gasps and moans that filled the room. You held onto the sheets, desperately trying to ground yourself as waves of pleasure washed over you. The world around you faded away, leaving only the two of you in this intoxicating moment.

“Just like that, love,” he encouraged, his voice muffled against you, and you felt your body respond, tightening around the pleasure he was giving you. He continued to work his magic, his movements expertly bringing you closer to the edge, the tension building deep within you.

As your breath hitched, you could feel the pressure mounting, a delicious tension coiling tighter and tighter until you felt as if you might break. “I’m going to—” you gasped, unable to finish your thought before he intensified his efforts, bringing you over the edge into a blissful climax.

Your body trembled as you rode the waves of ecstasy, calling his name, your fingers digging into his hair as the world around you spun. He didn’t stop, though; he continued to savor you, prolonging your pleasure as the overstimulation sent you spiraling once more.

“Tommy, please,” you gasped, overwhelmed by the sensations, but he only increased the fervor, his mouth working tirelessly. Your body responded, the waves crashing over you again, igniting every nerve ending until you were a quivering mess beneath him.

With a final surge of pleasure, you let go, your second orgasm washing over you like a tidal wave. Both of you lay there, breathless and entangled in each other, the world outside forgotten. Thomas gently kissed your forehead, his clean fingers tracing soothing patterns on your skin as you came down from the high of your shared passion.

He finally pulled back, just enough to meet your gaze. “You alright, love?” he asked, concern lacing his voice, but the smirk on his lips hinted at his satisfaction.

“More than alright,” you replied, a grin breaking across your face as you snuggled into him.

After a moment, he got up to clean up, his movements effortless and casual. You watched him, feeling a warmth swell in your chest. When he returned, he draped a big coat over you, wrapping you in warmth and comfort.

“Ready for round two?” he teased, his eyes sparkling with mischief as you laughed, the sound echoing in the cozy room.

“This is going to be a long night,” you replied, a mischievous glint in your eye as you shifted beneath the warm coat. You could feel the remnants of passion coursing through you, and the sight of Thomas’s relaxed, satisfied posture ignited something within you.

With a playful grin, you pushed him back onto the bed, surprising him. His eyes widened, a mix of curiosity and amusement flashing across his face. “Oh? What’s this, then?” he asked, his voice low and teasing.

“Just returning the favor,” you said with a smirk, your confidence surging as you climbed over him, straddling his hips. His breath caught in his throat, and you could feel the heat radiating from him. You leaned down, capturing his lips in a heated kiss, savoring the taste of him on your tongue.

As you pulled back, you let your hands roam down his chest, feeling the muscles beneath his shirt. “I think it’s time I take care of you, Mr. Shelby,” you whispered, your voice sultry and inviting. You could see his surprise morph into a pleased grin, and he nodded, a hint of anticipation in his eyes.

You began trailing kisses down his neck, your lips brushing against his skin, eliciting soft gasps from him. The thrill of being in control sent a rush of adrenaline through you. With each kiss, you worked your way lower, taking your time to explore him, to tease and tantalize.

“Bloody hell,” he breathed, his hands instinctively gripping the sheets as you continued your journey. You could feel the tension building in him, and it fueled your desire to push him further. When you reached the waistband of his trousers, you paused, looking up at him with a playful smile.

“Do you trust me?” you asked, your voice a low murmur. He met your gaze, his icy blue eyes darkening with hunger as he nodded. “Always.”

You leaned down, slowly unbuttoning his trousers, your fingers brushing against his skin. The moment you freed him, you wrapped your hand around him, feeling him pulse in your grasp. You looked up at him, a wicked smile playing on your lips, before taking him into your mouth.

“Y/N,” he groaned, his voice thick with pleasure, and you felt a surge of satisfaction at the sound. You began to move your mouth in a slow, tantalizing rhythm, taking your time to savor him. Each flick of your tongue drew deep moans from him, and you reveled in the power you held.

“God, you feel so good,” he gasped, his hands tangling in your hair, guiding you gently. You picked up the pace, your mouth working him with a fervor that sent shivers through both of you. The sounds he made only spurred you on, pushing you to explore him further.

As you lost yourself in the pleasure of the moment, the world outside faded away, leaving only the two of you, intertwined in this blissful dance. You could feel the tension building within him, and it ignited a fire deep inside you.

“Don’t stop,” he urged, his voice strained, and you obliged, wanting to bring him to the brink. You intensified your movements, your mouth and hands working in perfect harmony as you brought him closer and closer.

With a few final strokes of your tongue, you could feel him tremble beneath you, his breath hitching as he neared his peak. “I’m close,” he warned, his voice thick with need, and you took that as your cue to give it your all.

With one final push, you enveloped him completely, taking him to the edge before he finally released, his moans filling the room as he spilled into your mouth. You swallowed every drop, feeling victorious as you pulled back to meet his gaze.

Thomas lay there, panting, his chest rising and falling as he looked at you with a mix of admiration and desire. “You’re unbelievable,” he breathed, a wide grin spreading across his face.

“Just doing my part,” you teased, wiping your mouth playfully before leaning in to kiss him again, feeling the warmth of his body against yours.

You settled beside him, feeling utterly satisfied and connected. “What do you say we continue this long night?” you suggested, a playful sparkle in your eye.

He chuckled, pulling you closer. “I think I could be convinced.”

With that, the night was filled with love and sense of comfort. Thomas Shelby was all you needed. A man who could wait for a Makahiya Leave open once more and shower her with all his love.

Indeed, he was all you needed.

-----

🐧Edited on October 13, 2024. I learned the thingy for Unprotected bed scenes... Which was "Wrap it before you Tap it" learned it from the comments XD thank you ^^ hope ya'll enjoyed it btw🐧

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[springtyme]

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐟 𝐒𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡 ♡

In a world where trust is earned and betrayal met with swift and ruthless consequences, you'll do anything to protect your family, even if that means you'll have to do the unthinkable, marrying the criminal kingpin of Birmingham, Thomas Shelby.

Tommy Shelby x reader || Series playlist || Main masterlist

Chapter 1 Family Business coming soon

Chapter 2 Long Live The King

Chapter 3 Peonies and Razorblades

More chapters to come

[ay0nha]

An Ode to Ruination | T.S.

SUMMARY: Tommy was addicting. Chronic. His aura was intimidating. He was callus to those close to him. And yet, there was that desire to sink below that murky water—drown in him entirely when his want was so clear in his breath. 

PAIRING: Tommy Shelby x f!reader

WORD COUNT: 2.5K

WARNINGS: ANGST, swearing, smoking, drinking, semi-preoccupations with thoughts of death/suicide, mutual pining, meanish tommy because his feelings are hurt, canon-typical things, protective!tommy, rushed ending, etc.

A/N: Yeah, yeah, I’m back on my bullshit.  This is inspired by @zodiyack​‘s request/post (here). HAD to get it out of my system, I mean look how pretty he is. This is a mix of Old writing I had to dust off the cob webs for mixed with new stuff, so be kind. Enjoy.

“You’re leaving.”

Tommy’s tone was sterile. It left little room for interpretation or defiance. The statement came without hesitation but held pent-up sentiment veiled by familiar poise. You vetted his blank gaze for proper determination of his upset.  

The cracks behind his exterior were so deeply concealed you hadn’t thought anything could slip between. Yet, standing before him, your decision was the ice-pick that’s pressure had shattered him.

“Ada told you?” You hummed with formality; his presence clearly a response to the question. “London will treat me well.”

Tommy tracked your movements. You envied how he filled the space better than you. Perhaps it was the vulnerability in his presence. Regardless, you felt like a guest in your own home. You felt caught, exposed.

The air was thick, causing Tommy’s deep breaths hard to hide behind a crackling record that you had on a continual loop, never able to stand too much silence. Your bags were organized beside the door for the morning, causing your heart to echo against the empty walls.

There was an odd sense of pride you felt with his presence. It confirmed the distant admiration that Tommy held for years. That the shared affection wasn’t something fabricated but complex. You respected his drive, but your desires fell elsewhere. He carved space for you despite your protests, but you could never be the one to fill it—you could never be his.

“A better life, eh?” Tommy mocked you, cigarette rolling over his lips with habit. “Fucks sake.” The confidence in his demeanor faltered. But he regained it quickly with a bitter laugh, “...I’ve given you everything, and here you are asking for more.”

With an instinct to comfort him, you wanted to reach for him. It spoke of your ability to read him and how exhausting it had become to interpret. He would miss you.

“Tommy—” You began. The calmness in your voice was deceiving. You could see it in his face, how expectant he was for you to tell him you’d stay. “—I’m not safe with you.” You paused, letting your admission sink in just as harshly as his words had, “I’m going to London.”

—

The bliss was idyllic.

Your wrist balanced on the windowsill as you lazily tapped the ash of your cigarette. The cool air caressed your arm and gave you goosebumps that reminded you that you were still alive. Human. Your senses were perked. The city outside kept you attentive as your head rested back. The day was long, but hearing the taxis carrying bubbling people made it worth it. You imagined how some were on their way to find warmth in their home while others were dressed for an endless night of laughter.  

The living room was empty and quiet. You could no longer hear Ada’s shuffling feet above you, ushering both her and Karl to sleep. It was odd that you found such freedom with them. Protection of sorts that you could rely on as a necessary stepping stone. It caused a headache to form at the back of your head, reminding you of your lack of sleep.

Privilege came with the name associated that made your stomach churn.  It was simple to push Tommy into a subconscious level. The task became daunting; an ache emerged from so deep within that it took months to realize from the start he was responsible.   It was as though you could feel how his eyes were still on you.

It became a habit to remind yourself of your newfound safety. The distance created life: happiness and tranquility. You traded bloody nights for bedtime stories, sewing razor-filled caps for gin-filled gatherings, and Tommy’s scarcity of communication for peaceful nights like tonight.

A disruption was overdue. You answered the phone after the third ring.

“Ada?” The voice was unmistakable, even if it was whiskey drenched. It took him a beat to realize you were on the other end. “... ’m callin’ for Ada.”

Chewing on your lip, you debated silence and pretended like the call had never begun. But that incessant ache begged to be relieved.

“I can wake her.” Your voice was soft, promising something you were unwilling to do. It was nicety that filled the quietness you were met with.

“I—uh—” Tommy sighed deeply. The words were lost, jumbled behind an always racing mind. You could picture him well; his crisp shirt no longer having life as it was rolled up by anxiety, his tie no longer present, but still suffocating him, and everything around him reflecting how he moved with an intemperate haze. “—I’m drowning—”

“Tommy…” You refused to burst, but his name on your tongue tattered between warning and heartbreak. When he drank, he opened up to you, a foolish cycle. “Let me get Ada…”

The dark chuckle on the other end forced you to press yourself closer to the phone. “Sometimes, I wish I were dead so you'd think of me.”

A frown perked your lips. You were made out to be more heartless than the most heartless man you knew. It was a naive guilt trip that you almost slipped on. “Be fair to me, Tommy.”

There was a crackle on the other end, a cigarette lit purely by regret. The drag was long, trying to pull something thoughtful from a blurred mind. The reports he received from those he paid off weren’t enough.  You were thriving with his absence, seen with a mix of people who, even acquaintances, valued you better. It elicited resentful envy. However, out of arms reach, you worried Tommy endlessly. The London associates sought blood, no matter who provided it. The paranoia was ruining him, and no answer could reassure him.

“You a communist yet?” Tommy cleared his throat with a vulnerability that was only reserved for this night. Maybe, you thought, it was an effort on his part.

“Almost…” The teasing comforted a dodged homesickness. “Think my card got lost in the post.”

“Shame.” He tutted with a gentle wit. There was a tender sadness he carried with him. It was almost as volatile as his anger. It was easy to blame it on the war, but it had latched onto him long before, never planning to let go.

You imagined how his exhaustion mapped along his body. His body probably mirrored your own; head back, limbs weakly sprawled, heavy-lidded eyes imagining the other beside each other, and a mutual worry that bounced between you.

“I am happy, Tommy…” Your promise was delayed, hardly believable. “Ada and I do miss everyone.”

I miss you.

Tommy hummed, “...have a funny way of showin’ that.”

“You haven’t seen our smoke signals?”

The laugh you were met with was small, light, and barely there, but it rushed through your limbs and heated your chest. You had a moment to catch your breath and slow your heart rate. Tommy was addicting. Chronic. His aura was intimidating. He was callous to those close to him. And yet, there was that desire to sink below that murky water—drown in him entirely when his want was so clear in his breath.  

—

You knew Tommy would be there. For Ada—you reminded yourself. Yet, seeing him so closely caused your heart to lurch, your blood leaving your extremities with such fascination that you became light-headed.

“Drink.” Ada all but scolded you, crystal pushed into your hand. The instruction was welcomed, but it wasn’t enough to settle you. “Otherwise, you’ll clam up if Tommy bothers to find us.”

Tommy worked the crowd well. It was a feigned charm that he played into only for advantage. Although he claimed to be here for family, business always loomed. Ada hadn’t cared either way, the glitz far too intriguing to question his sudden presence in the city.

“Give him time…” Ada spoke openly to the air, her night’s indulgence tracing her words. “...always time with that one—wastes it, and yet, expects you to be there when he hollers. Does your head in, it does…”

The champagne bubbled down your throat. The night was meant to be celebratory, but you’d be lying if you said you knew why. It was a part of your distinction from the Shelby family that you questioned if ignorance truly brought you bliss.

“Surprised he came himself. Thomas Shelby in the flesh,” Ada continued with ease, mocking her brother. “Surprised he even lifted a pinky. Typically one of his goons—” She looked to you, her revelation cutting her off. “You do understand what you do to him, don’t you?”

“I don’t want to.” Your words were sharp. Your eyes filtered the crowd for the gloved waiter to replace your glass. “There’s nothing that I—I’ve put all that behind me.”

“That?” She pressed with practiced bits of patience. Ada’s smile grew comically. The shy glancing took years to turn into full sentences and Ada knew firsthand how to read her brother, and the way he lingered spoke volumes. He was past smitten.

It was all or nothing; you were it.

You were grateful how her attention shifted to her own relationship. You never tired of hearing how Freddie treated her and loved her since they were children. There was somberness in her eyes, but devotion carried in her words. You saw how she carried him with her; certain mannerisms mirrored not only in her but Karl. Love withstood.

There was a point in your life you believed you’d find something similar. You hadn’t faulted your growing mind; it was natural to romanticism your future at such a young age. Those around you promised there was something fruitful to look forward to. However, life proved difficult; men remained boys, and the only person that you regarded stalked toward you as if you were nothing more than a stranger.

“Ada.” Tommy approached his sister as if she were alone. He’d visited her in the city multiple times but never once shared the air with you. “Enjoying yourself tonight, eh?”

“Mothers can still have fun.” She teased him with a peck on the cheek. Even in her state, she ridiculed her brother’s behavior. With a shoulder pushed against his, Ada encouraged Tommy to acknowledge you. “Have you no manners?”

To others, his expression may have appeared vacant. However, Tommy wrestled with himself, unsure how to maneuver in uncharted territory. Stalling, his eyes danced the crowd as he languidly out his matches and carton. It denoted how natural his icy illusion became, and now he seemed able to practice it on you. Once he landed on you, you realized why he struggled to meet your eyes. It was his only form of self-defense.

“London suits you.” Tommy nodded, his greeting muffled through the newly lit cigarette. The small rush it gave him was enough to stay vigilant.

“It has its moments.”  Your chest perked from the attention and chill, but Tommy’s eyes never faltered from your own. You were daring him to take your body in. It was the sole reason you chose a dress that cut low both front and back.

Tommy was never a blind man.

Nor was his sister. Ada excused herself, claiming whatever ‘this’ was, she wanted no part. You are no fun, she said. However, you weren’t sure who it was directed to. You held back from following her, but your shoulders remained open; you wouldn’t fold into yourself.

“I didn’t know communists could have fun…” Tommy mumbled to himself, eyes going to the crowd once more. Ada’s self-imposed isolation rippled through the family, only fracturing the stress of everyone’s well-being.

A scoff bubbled in your throat, “And what do you know about pleasure?”

“Pleasure?” Tommy became focused and pointed with his words. “Pleasure doesn’t exist.”

Eyebrows cinching with frustration, you stepped closer to be heard, “Don’t pretend like your pleasures don’t have names.”

That drunken call all those nights ago was a mistake. It showed you insight into a dream. In that dream, Tommy was free of what haunted him, light and present. Faithful. There his voice wrapped you in warmth with fulfilled promises. You never were as skilled at hiding your emotions. Your heart was broken on your sleeve.

“I’m going to—

There wasn’t a need for a protective air as those around Tommy knew never to challenge him. However, far and few between, there were those men self-entitled with such idiocy; they couldn’t recognize they were prey.

“Thomas Shelby. Birmingham man in London.” A hand clapped down on his shoulder, breaking the forming bubble around you. “Thought that was you! This must be the missus…”

“Not quite.” Your tone was bare, your hand extending with trained expertise. You could handle pleasantries. But the man was bold, leaving a damp kiss on your knuckles as if marking you.

Tommy was subtle, moving his body to act as a buffer. Fingertips brushy feather-bare against your lower back. You thought it would end there but held back a flinch when Tommy’s warm palm flattened where your back curved.

“Ah, understood!” The man replied with a boisterous cackle. It reflected years of unfiltered nicotine and a wet and sick penchant for bourbon. “I’ll have one of you warm my bed once all of this shit is over.”

You pinned your breath to the roof of your mouth. Your loss for words wasn’t due to the ill-mannered man. It was from the brush of Tommy’s thumb against your skin. It was a comfort and an apology for how he would have to agree with the man to keep him at bay.

It was all a part of the plan you were slowly catching onto.

“A good lay is a good lay, isn’t it, Mr. Shelby?” The man prompted again, a gauge to know if the future alliance would be worth it.

“Exactly right.”

You could storm off, cause a scene. Your anger steeped deeper than that. It lived in your bones, morphing into something vindictive. You stayed the course and played your part willingly. The morals you lectured Tommy on didn’t matter anymore when all along he had the upper hand.

To the man, you were a plaything, someone who the conversation held no standing. The information would be forgotten, implied confidentiality,   as you’d move on to your next client. However, the further you orchestrated the conversation to continue, the more you learned.

The night was a business move, another party dosed in secrets and danger. You took in the man’s features, noting how he was aging, greys just starting to filter through his scalp. Your stomach turned, knowing there would be a bullet between his eyes by the end of the evening. The interaction was a courtesy.

Once alone again, you didn’t hesitate to move from Tommy’s shield. You felt dirtied.

“I can’t believe you.” You spat. “You’re incapable of—

“Enough.” Tommy’s words were low. He pinned you with a look alone, keeping you steady. “You want to run from me, but you can’t.” You battled with him until you lost. His face hardened like you were another associate. “It was him or you.”

[apollosdaydreams]

meme

Meme 

Cillian Murphy x Reader

Summary: Your husband Cillian, had just finished a new interview for his new movie Oppenheimer. Once he came home he asked you a question that you never thought you would hear him ask. 

Warnings: Suggestive, no smut though

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You were sitting on the couch in the living room You heard the front door open and close,  looking up you saw it was your husband.

“Hey babe.” You said smiling at him and putting your phone down on the couch. 

He took off his shoes. “Hi honey.” he said, once his shoes were off he sat down next to you on the couch, his arm wrapping around you.

“So, how was the interview?” You asked. 

“It went well…” He said. “Though I do have a question to ask you?” He asked.

You sat up thinking his question was going to be something serious. “Yeah, what's up? Is everything ok?” You asked.

Cillian chuckled a bit at your reaction. “Yes honey everything is fine.” He said leaning down to kiss you. “I, just… it's kinda dumb..” He said, scratching the back of his neck nervously. 

“There's no reason to be nervous, what is it?” you asked again. 

“What's a meme?” he asked suddenly.

You didn't say anything back to him, just before he was going to speak again you started to laugh. “Oh, babe, that's the last thing I expected you to ask me.” you said not being able to contain your laughter. When you looked up you saw that your husband was doing the meme everyone was talking about, his disappointed face. Seeing this you laughed even harder. 

“What's so funny?” he pouted. “I know I look funny, but I don't look that funny babe.” He said, crossing his arms over his chest. 

You tried to stop laughing. “Babe you aren't funny looking.” you said, kidding his lips, which seemed to make him happier. “That's just the last thing I expected you to say” You said. 

“Well today in the interview they asked me if I've seen the ‘disappointed Cillian Murphy meme.’” he said in quotations. “But I don't even know what a meme is!” He exclaimed slightly. 

“Ok, just give me a minute.” you said trying to calm yourself down, eventually you were able to stop laughing. “Ok so a meme is usually a picture or a video that then has a caption or phrase, so for example like the disappointed cillian murphy meme.” you began. “Started because in interviews you are always looking disappointed.” you said pulling out your phone to show him the picture. “Do you get it now old man?” you joked.

“Yes I do honey that was actually- hey, that's not nice.” he said, not realizing you called him old at first.

You dramatically put your hand on your chest. “Oh my! How could I ever apologize.” you said laughing. 

Cillian then pushed you down on the couch. “Well I could think of a few things.” He whispered in your ear. 

Blushing hard, “well I'm not complaining.” you said as he picked you up to take you to your shared bedroom.

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Authors note: sorry for the drought, summer went by fast and now im back to college, i hope to try to post more though!! Hope you enjoyed this fic!!

© 2024 on tumblr apollosdaydreams do not translate/remake/repost my works on any platform without authorized permission.

[asmutwriter]

The Gangsta's Wife (Part 10)

DESCRIPTION: You decide its time to show off your new found home that your husband had bought with a big, celebratory party.

A/N - This part was about 2K words shorter. But then I made the smut part way more graphic and slightly longer. I hope you enjoy

WORD COUNT: 5401

From Beginning / Previous / Next / Master List  

WARNINGS: smoking, swearing, talk of a breakup, guns, smut, hair pulling, oral (m receiving), praise, spit, mild masochism (both m and f), pet names (sir, love), possession kink, pussy slapping, fingering, mild orgasm denial, sub reader, dom Tommy, creampie, unprotected sex, teasing, dacryphillia

DISCLAIMERS

This is fiction. Please always talk to your partner before doing anything and make sure they are ok with what you are doing beforehand

This story does not follow the timeline of the show

You'd spent a month or so in your new house. Although your husband had bought this house as a family home for the three of you, it somehow always had your sisters or his brothers round. Today was no exception. Your sisters are here at lunch time. Sat around the table as you cooed Charlie.

Tommy walking into the room to join you. Nodding slightly at his in laws before looking at you. A smile coming over his lips at seeing you and his child. His happy expression doesn't last long though. Shifting slightly as the three of you go quiet at his presence.

"What is it?" he looks at the three of you. You point at your sisters.

"They are the ones with the idea. Ask them" he looks at them. Mary nudging Liz as he gives his in-laws a quizzical look. His smile having faded but a touch of amusement in his blue eyes remains.

"Ask him" she whispers to her sister.

"Ask me what?" Liz fiddles with her hands as she speaks.

"When are you having a party here?"

"A party?"

"The only people that have seen this house is us and your family. Why have such a grand house if you aren't showing it off?"

"We asked Flo" Mary speaks up, helping her sisters case. "But she said she needed to pass it by you first Mr Shelby". He smiles at the notion. Turning to look at you. Taking out a cigarette as he speaks.

"Your thoughts?". Placing the item in his mouth before lighting it. You pull your bottom lip between your teeth. Letting it go before speaking.

"I agree with my sisters. I love this house. And I'm not ashamed to want to show it off" he nods. Removing the stick from his mouth with his thumb and middle finger.

"When shall we have it then ey?"

"Next Saturday" Mary says, drawing his eyes back to her. "It gives us enough time to send letters out. But not so far in the future that people will forget. We can then prepare catering and anything else we need for a party. If anyone needs to stay the night before or after then they can do so as that day accepts those type of arrangements." He nods again. Using the hand, the one holding the cigarette in, to exaggerate his speech.

"Flo, I will give you a list of names I'd like you to invite on my behalf. Other then that, feel free to invite whoever you want" he smiles. Placing it back into his mouth before turning. Walking out the room.

-

Your new maid helps you get dressed. Ready for the day of the party. Placing a beautiful silver necklace around your neck. You place two earrings into your lobes. Taking a minute to admire your wedding ring before adding a couple more to your fingers.. You stand up. Looking at yourself in the floor length mirror in your bedroom.

"You look beautiful Mrs Shelby" your maid says.

"Thank you Betty" you stroke down your dress. You turn to face her. Smiling. "You should borrow one of my dresses. Come to the party tonight"

"Oh now Mrs Shelby. I couldn't do that. It wouldn't be proper".

"If you change your mind and fancy an hour or so away from everything then you know where my dresses are. You're welcome to wear one of them tonight if you'd like". A knock at the door before it opens. Thomas walking inside holding Charlie. You go over. Seeing your son looking teary. "Oh no what happened?" you go over. A hand going to his cheek.

"He was crawling and fell down mid crawl. I did comfort him but I think he wanted his mothers love"

"Oh my poor baby" you gently take him. Kissing his head as you stroke his hair. He hides into you. Hearing a very sad sniff coming from him. Thomas places a soothing hand onto his back. Rubbing it gently. You start to hear the chatter of voices downstairs. Mary runs up. Pushing open the door as she runs in.

"People are here! Come on!" she smiles. Coming over and grabbing at your hand.

"I'll be down in a second" she nods. Grinning from ear to ear before skipping out the room. Betty comes over. Holding her hands out.

"Allow me Mrs Shelby". You kiss your child's temple. Passing Charlie over to her. Linking an arm with your husband. Him looking at you before you both head downstairs. Betty following shortly behind. Minding your son during the night.

You and Tommy go different ways. Socialising with different people throughout the night. You meet Vanessa. Linking an arm with her as you catch up with your gossip.

"I don't believe it" a voice interrupts your conversation. One that sounds very familiar. Turning you see Miss Finnley. A woman long forgotten in your past. Vanessa leans close to you as the woman makes her way over. Whispering into your ear.

"You invited your exes mum?"

"No. Not purposefully anyway" she comes over. Eyes scanning over your body as she places her hands in front of her. Delicately placed one over the other.

"Florence Hastings. How did a woman like you get into a party like this?".

"You know, you haven't changed a bit since I last saw you". You try not to laugh at the obvious disgust in her eyes. Like your some sort of scum of the earth.

"Who did you steal this dress from then, hmm?"

"I bought this dress. With my husbands money"

"What a poor man. Being married to a woman like you. How did you drag him into marrying you then?" you half smile.

"I've got a great set of tits and a rocking ass" her eyes widen. A look of shock on her face, jaw dropping. You smile at her. Linking an arm with Vanessa "I hope you have a good rest of the evening". You turn again. Walking away from her.

"You know something" Vanessa says as you go to the food table "I think you've gotten more ballsy since being married to that Shelby fella" you chuckle slightly. Grabbing a cupcake.

"I have to be quick witted in his family. They'd eat me alive otherwise" she laughs as you eat the cake. Betty comes over to you. A very tired looking Charlie in her arms. You smile sweetly at him as you stroke his hair.

"Someone is sleepy so we thought we'd come and say goodnight before heading to bed". You smile. Kissing your child's head.

"Goodnight my sweet boy. I love you" you kiss his head again. Stroking his hair as you watch her go over to Tommy. Him giving the boy the same treatment you did. An admiring smile coming over your face as you watch. Betty taking your son to bed.

Vanessa watches you. A knowing look in her eye. You tun back to her. Your smile changing as you look at her. "What's his name?"

"Charlie. His names Charlie"

"Wasn't that your dads name?" you nod. Your smile saddening slightly as you pick up another cake. "Its a lovely name. Your father would've been proud of the woman you've become". You nod again. Taking a bite of your food. Some other people come over. Chatting with you as you stay around the food table for the evening.

You hear a familiar voice again. "This is her Mr Shelby". You turn. Seeing Miss Finnley with your husband. His eyes meet yours, a look of confusion and amusement in his eyes. "This is the girl who used vile language in front of myself and your guests". You look down. Biting at the inside of your cheek to stop yourself from laughing. "Honestly. Some people have no manners. I demand that you make her leave at once"

"Mrs-"

"I think it'd be best for you and the other guests to not have such a disgusting girl here at your grand party. Goodness knows who she stole the dress from"

"Mrs Dickinson" he manages to cut her off. You look puzzled at the name but try not to let it show on your face. "I see that you've met my wife ". She looks at him. Blinking a few times.

"I- your-" she stutters for words.

"Please get back to the party. Enjoy the food and drink that my lovely wife has prepared for you". He smiles at her. An extremely amused look on his face as he looks at you. You smile at him as he turns. Going back to the social group he was with. She turns to you. More disgust on her face as she eyes you up and down.

Giving a soft 'hmmp' she turns. Her nose sticking upwards as she practically storms out. You turn back to Vanessa. "That actually happened..." Grabbing a few grapes. Popping them in your mouth as she lets out a low laugh.

"You said that your husband made a list of guests to invite?" you nod. "Was the name Mrs Dickinson on this list?". You think for a moment. Recalling the name as you nod. "Well that'd be it. She must've remarried. Changed her name. Meaning that she is no longer Miss Finnley, instead is Mrs Dickinson"

"I feel sorry for the poor sod that married her" she laughs. A low snort coming out, causing her to laugh more. You smile. Offering her some sweet treats as you both continue chatting. Vanessa sticking by your side the rest of the night.

During the early hours of the morning the party disbands. Your guests depart. Either going to the rooms you've provided for them. Or taking various cars and carriages home. You retire to your room. Soon followed by your husband. You sit at the edge of the bed. Taking off your shoes as he goes over to the vanity unit. Lighting up a cigarette. Sitting on the arm chair. You pick up your shoes. Placing them neatly away.

Your husband draws a drag. Placing his hand down, resting on the arm of the chair as he exhales the smoke. Putting his head back as he looks at the ceiling. You look at him as your hands go up to your ears. Taking out the earrings from them. You go over to the vanity unit. Placing the jewelry onto the side. His head remains back. Not paying you any mind.

You put your hands around your back. Unbuttoning your dress as you walk over to the bed. Bringing it down your body, stepping out of it. Leaving you in your bra, underwear, and stockings. Folding the dress over your arm as you go over to the wardrobe. Taking out a hanger and placing it onto it. Stroking down the material before placing it inside the wardrobe.

"I liked that dress you were wearing" Thomas says. You look at him. His eyes now on you.

"Thank you. I made it whilst I was at the safe house. Edward got me the material". You admire the fabric one more time before shutting the door. He places the cigarette back into his mouth. Inhaling before removing the stick.

"Come here". You turn and walk over to him. Him snubbing out his smoke before you make it to him. He takes your hand. Admiring the rings on your fingers.

"These are new"

"I spent a long time in that house... so when I got out I went a bit overboard with buying things". He lets out an amused scoff. His thumb running along the jewels as he looks at them.

"A beautiful woman deserves beautiful items such as these". You smile.

"Mr Shelby, you flatter me" he looks at you. Eyes warm and inviting. Your joyous smile softening as you look at him. You bend down. Kneeling between his legs. His hand remaining on yours. Stroking over your fingers as you keep eye contact. Your other hand coming to his leg. Your finger dancing on his thigh.

"What did you say to Mrs Dickinson?"

"Oh no. You don't need to know that" you drop his gaze. Tilting your head to the side.

"Do you know her?". You nod slightly. Knowing the silence holds questions he wont ask you, but requires an answer for. You take in a breath. Looking at his leg as you continue to circle his thigh.

"I used to date her son" your voice small. Feeling his eyes on you. "We had plans to elope. Run to Scotland and get married. But his mother found out. Told him that if he married me she wouldn't give him any of her fortune". You still your hand. Taking in a breath. "He chose money. Money over love. I waited for him at the train station for 3 hours. Longest three hours of my fucking life". You remove your hand from his leg. Turning away from him as you wipe a tear that threatens to fall down your face. "Jesus fuck" you say.

He gently takes you chin. Leaning forward. Making you look at him. His grip soft as he meets your eyes. "Fuck them both, ey? Fuck 'em". You take in a breath through your nose. A slow breath as he watches your eyes. His face about a foot away from yours.

"Miss Finnl- Mrs Dickinson asked how I had managed to get married. So... I... told her that it was because of my... tits and ass". His face cracks. A smile coming over his lips and going through his cheeks to his eyes. Admiration in his gaze. His hand moving slightly. Brushing his thumb over your lips as he lets out a soft laugh.

"You always amaze me Mrs Shelby". Your eyes darting between his. Piercing blue orbs stay fixed onto yours. You move timidly. Placing your hands onto his knees you kneel up slightly. His eyes remaining on yours as you search his. Closing the gap between you. Your lips pressing onto his. His hand remains on your chin as you kiss him. You move away slightly. Noses brushing as you look at him. Pressing your lips together before speaking.

"You know..." you tilt your head slightly. Gently brushing your lips over his. "I don't have any duties tonight...". You run your hands up his thighs. Gripping near the top of them. "Betty is looking after Charles... My sisters are likely tired from the party... as are all of our guests. They'll probably sleep through tonight". You bring your hand up. Fingers lightly tracing his groin. Your lips finding his again. Kissing him as you rest your palm onto him. Softly pushing down. Palming him through his trousers. A soft grunt escaping his lips. Passed into yours as you continue kissing. His hand moving from your chin to the back of your head. Gripping your hair.

He pulls you away, hand knotted into your curls as he meets your eyes. "That pretty little mouth of yours seems to get you in trouble" he taunts. "Lets see if you can use it for more... practical uses, ey?". You bite your bottom lip. Him removing your hand with his free one as he keeps eye contact with you. His eyes filling with lust as he takes himself out of his trousers.

His cock half hard from your palming. He pushes you down. Hand still firmly holding you as he brings you closer to him. Your hands gong to his thighs as you look up at him. Mouth in line with his length. He takes himself in his hand. Gently putting the tip to your mouth. Going soft on the grip of your hair. "Open". You oblige. Sticking your tongue out as he pushes himself into your mouth. His cock growing increasingly hard by the second, soon becoming fully erect.

His hand tightens. Feeling him pull at the roots. You let out a soft whine. The action causing him to push you down onto him. Feeling him intrude your throat. You try your best not to gag as he fills you. Shutting your eyes as your nose hits his pelvic bone. He lets out a hiss before he releases you. You cough, a trail of saliva connecting your lips to his cock. Taking in some deep breaths before he brings you to his length again. Welcoming him in as he proceeds to bob your head up and down. Feeling it hitting the back of your throat with each thrust.

Your hands grip his thighs. Nails digging into the trousered flesh. "Good girl" he coos. The praise going straight to your wetting core. You rub your thighs together. Wanting some sort of friction. He pushes your down again. Relaxing your throat as he enters you. Hollowing out your cheeks as you run your tongue under him. A low grunt escaping his lips. Forcing you down more. You feel tears come to your eyes at the intrusion. Struggling for breath as you hum around him.

"Fuck" he mutters. Somehow managing to push you further down. You shut your eyes. Hands clenching to fists. Feeling the tears fall down your cheeks. He keeps you there. A deep hum coming from his throat as he deprives you of oxygen. You lightly tap his leg once you need air. Pulling you from him. You breath deeply. Chest rising heavily. Trying your best not to cough. Spit falling from your lips as you look at him. His eyes watching yours. The sharp blue cutting into you. He removes his hand from your hair. Tilting his head as he watches you. Eagerly waiting for his next words.

"Stand" he demands. You get up. Pushing yourself up on his legs. Standing in front of him as he watches you. He traces his finger over the waistband of your underwear. "Take them off". You hook your finger into them. Pushing them down, stepping out of them. His hand comes up. Barely touching you.

"Hmm" he hums. Finger going between your slit. You catch your breath. A whine coming out. "Have you been touching yourself?". Your breathing becomes deeper. Quicker. Distracted by his finger dancing on your clit that you forget to answer him. He retracts his hand. Causing you to whine out. Looking down at him. "Have you touched yourself since I last fucked you?". You feel your cheeks redden slightly at the question. Shaking your head. A soft 'no' coming from your lips. He brings his hand back up. Running over your folds before pushing a finger into you easily. A broken moan leaves your lips at the sudden intrusion. Fluttering your eyes.

"Poor thing. Completely touch starved". He rolls it inside of you. Your hand goes forward. Resting on his shoulder as you steady yourself. The other coming up. Cupping and squeezing at your still clothed breast. Eyes shutting fully as you lull your head to the side.

"Please...". You beg. Not even sure what your asking for. He lets out an almost sadistic chuckle before removing his finger as quickly as he entered. Your eyes open again. A look of desperation on your face. "No. Please". You bring your hand to his other shoulder. Running them up his neck as you shuffle closer to him. Eyes darting over his face as he looks up at you.

"Tell me what you want, love". You whine. Rubbing your thighs together. His eyes glance down. A smile coming over his lips as he looks back up at you.

"I-I want to feel good. Please make me feel good". He pulls his trouser down slightly. Letting his cock out more. Taking your hips in his hands. Pulling you onto his lap. Your hands falling back onto his shoulders.

He lifts your hips. You hovering above him as he takes hold of his cock. Lining it up with you as you lower yourself. Slowly. Feeling your heart beat fast with every inch he fills you up. You wrap an arm around his neck. The other going to his cheek as you kiss him. His arms wrapping around you as he fills you completely.

Your hand goes to his torso. Gently gripping at the fabric of his layers. His hands snake up the length of your back. Going to your bra and discarding it onto the floor. His hands coming to the front. Gently running over your breasts. You pull at his top layers.

"Off. Please Tommy" he looks at you. "Please". He moves. Removing his blazer and waistcoat. He loosens his tie. Pulling it over his head. Your hands go to the buttons of his shirt as he places his tie around your neck. Tightening it as you undo the last button. He strips himself of it. Tossing it onto the floor. Letting the length of his tie fall between your breasts.

You brace your hands onto his shoulders again. Your body flush against his as you start to grind against him. His cock molding inside of you. Hitting all of those delicious spots. You dig your nails into his skin. Whimpers and moans escaping your lips as you grind against him. His hands tracing your spine. Lightly dragging his blunt nails over your skin. The dull pain causing you to tighten around him.

"Fuck" he mutters. Arms going around you as he stands. Your legs going around his waist. Wrapping your arms around his neck as he walks to the bed. Lying you down as he comes on top of you. Kissing your neck before sitting up. Still firmly inside of you as he grips your hips. Not hesitating as he begins to piston his hips into yours.

"Shit" Your hand coming down. Grabbing at his holding you still. He takes yours. Letting you grip onto his fingers as an unholy groan scratches through your throat. Feeling your high getting so close to you. "Please. Please Tommy".

"Cum on my cock". You cover your mouth. Muffling your moan as you scream out. Your hole spasming around him as he slows his movements. Helping you ride out your high. Your breathing laboured as you drop your hand. Fingers still tightened around his. His hips still slow against yours. Eyes fluttering from the feeling. His free hand grabbing the tie around your neck. Pulling you up so your face is inches away from his. One hand resting on his chest. The other holding his wrist.

"I forgot how good you feel" he says. A whisper as he keeps you close to him. His hips still slowly moving in and out of you. "So fucking good". You tighten around him. Causing him to smile. "You like praise ey? Like being a good girl for me? Letting me fuck this needy cunt of yours" he pulls out of you. You whine at the lack of contact. His hand still gripping the tie around your neck as he kneels in front of you. Free hand coming up. Your hole slightly agape from his member as he dips his finger into you. His eyes look up at you.

"Such a pretty little thing" he lightly taps you clit with his fingers. Gently slapping it. You flinch at each hit. Over sensitive due to your recent orgasm. Both hands going down to try and stop his torment. He drops the tie. Taking your hands in one of his. Holding them to your stomach. "This is mine" he plays with your clit. Your hips stutter at his touch. "I get to do what I want with it. Understood?". You nod slightly. A shiver going down your spine at both his touch and his words. He drops your hands as he stands up. Pulling his trousers down fully. Stepping out. Leaving him naked before you. He takes the tie again. Pulling you towards him as your lips meet.

He pushes back into you. You moan against his lips. Him gripping the tie as he plunges in and out of you. You grip his neck as he fucks you. Screwing your eyes shut. Nails digging into his skin as you mold your lips to his. Muffling the noises you make as he comes closer to his high. Bringing you along with him. He grunts against your lips. Pulling away as he pushes his hips into you. Feeling him cum deep inside of you. You let out a satisfied moan. Your toes curling. Letting your own orgasm wash over you.

Leaning forward and kissing his shoulder as he gently rocks against you. Pushing his cum into you. The sound of both of your juices mixing filling your ears. He pulls out of you. Kneeling before you like a man in prayer. His arms wrapping around you. Resting where your hips meet you ass. His head resting against your stomach as you wrap your arms around his head. Holding him close to you as you shut your eyes. Playing with the long hair atop his head.

"We should get some sleep..." you whisper. He doesn't say anything. Unsure if he heard you or not. "Mr Shelby?". He moves away. Thumbs rubbing your skin.

"Back to formalities already, ey?". You feel your cheeks redden. "You can drop the nicety"

"I-"

"Unless you get off on only saying my name when we fuck". Your cheeks redden more.

"That's not... That's not what that is Mr Shelby..."

"Then call me Thomas. We are married and you did carry my child"

"Mr-" he doesn't say anything. Instead, he watches you with those damn eyes. "Thomas". He smiles.

"Good girl". He stands. Grabbing his underwear and placing them on himself. He grabs his shirt. Bringing it over to you, his arm outstretched with the fabric in his hand. You take it from him. Putting it on your torso.

"Thank you" you say softly. He goes to his blazer. Taking out two cigarettes and a lighter. Rolling one over his lips before keeping it in place. Handing you the other one. You take it. Placing it in your mouth as he lights the end for you before lighting his own. He goes to the top of your bed. Getting under the covers.

You stand up. Undoing the tie around your neck as you place it onto the vanity unit. Folding it neatly. Tommy's eyes on your thighs. You wearing his white shirt, plus the stockings still on your legs. You were an extraordinary sight. You go to the edge of the bed. Sitting onto it, placing the smoke into your mouth. Taking off your stockings and throwing them onto one of the various piles of clothes on the floor. Swiveling around so you can put your bare legs underneath the warm blanket. Taking one last inhale before putting it out in the ashtray by your bed.

You wake up early the next morning. You see Tomas still sleeping in the bed next to you. Usually he was up early working so this was a surprise. You stretch. Sitting up you look at the clock on the wall. 5:30. You let out a deep sigh. No wonder the rest of the house was quiet. You scratch the back of your head. Wincing slightly as you feel the nights events effect your body. Rubbing your forehead with your palm. You scan the bedroom. Seeing your clothes dotted around the room.

You swing your legs over the side of the bed. Doing up the buttons of the shirt you're wearing before bending down. Picking up the various clothes items. Sorting through as you determine them to be clean and dirty. Thomas's jacket being clean, you sling it over the back of the chair. Hearing a 'thump' you jump slightly. Eyes darting to what made the noise. Your blood goes cold. You must've knocked his gun from the side, or it might've been in his jacket and it fell out.

Regardless. The weapon is now sitting on the floor. You kneel beside it. This item being the last thing so many men saw before they died. Your hand shakes slightly. You clench them before you trace over the weapon. Admiring the dangerous beauty. Fingers gently touching over the length of it before you get the nerve to pick it up. Laying it in both your palms as your eyes dance over it.

"I'd be careful with that" you turn your head. Thomas was sat up, watching you. His back resting against the bed rest.

"I was just- It must've fallen whilst I was tidying our clothes" you motion at the chairdrobe now in the room. He looks at it, then back at you. His eyes focusing on the weapon as you haphazardly stand. Placing it back onto the side. "Its a beautiful pistol". You look back at him. An amused look on is face. "What?"

"Revolver. Not pistol". You pause for a moment. Your brow furrowing before speaking again.

"What's the difference?" you say. An almost embarrassed whisper as he laughs. He gets out of bed. Walking over to you. You continue to look at him. Watching as he stands a foot away from you. Reaching behind you, taking the gun from the table. He holds it. His eyes on yours as he brings the weapon up. You look at it. Body stiff as he speaks.

"A revolver has a revolving chamber. A pistol has a stationary chamber". You nod slightly. Wide eyes still on the weapon. "Look at me Florence". You tilt your head up. Meeting his gaze. Unable to get how he can be so calm whilst holding such a deadly object. A slight fear in your eyes as he brings the gun down. His free hand coming up. Gently running over your cheek bone. "I'm not going to hurt you love". You nod. Timidly at first but growing stronger as your voice comes out quietly in the room.

"I know. I know". He moves his hand from your face. Holding it out, palm upwards.

"Give me your hand". You hesitate before you bring a hand up. Placing it in his. He notices you shaking "Trust me". He speaks as he turns your hand. Palm facing upwards. Bringing the gun back up. Your eyes flashing down. Placing the gun into it. Wrapping the digits around the grip. You go to protest but he interrupts you. "The more you get to know a weapon the less intimidating it can seem". Nodding slightly as your eyes stay fixed on the firearm. "Hold it here. Pull back this to cock it. Aim at whatever you want to shoot. Then pull the trigger" his fingers pointing at the different aspects.

"How do they not scare you?". Your voice quiet. If he wasn't as close as he was he likely wouldn't have heard you. He takes in a breath through his nose.

"I've been around them to long for them to scare me as they scare you". You force your eyes away from the weapon, looking at him. Blue orbs glance up into yours. "Getting better already with them". You give him a curious look. "You can actually look at me whilst there is a gun in your hand". A small smile comes over his lips. "A few months ago you wouldn't even be in the same room as a gun, let alone be holding it". You let out a small scoff. Nodding as you let him take the weapon from your hands.

"You're right. You're completely right, Mr Shelby". His face shifts. His smile growing as he appears charmed by your words. "What?" you speak softly. Placing it onto the counter behind you. He comes back in front of you. Eyes looking between yours as he has a soft yet loud smirk on his face.

"Were you so cock drunk last night that you forgot what I said?". Your face burns up at the comment. Your mind trying to remember quickly.

"I-" His smile grows. His eyes narrow marginally as he continues to tease you. "Or is it some sort of turn on - saying my name only during sex?"

"Its- its not like that. I-" you stutter. Cheeks a burning red as he smiles at you.

"Its alright love. Either way, I understand". He moves away from you. Grabbing out a clean shirt from the chest of drawers. "Get dressed. We have guests to entertain this morning". Taken aback by his words you let out a little nod. You start to disrobe and get dressed too.

Previous / Next

TAGS

@whorecrux-of-slytherin @kkrenae @ireallydontcareanymorebrooo @frozenhuntress67

[princessofmarvel]

Runaway

summary | thomas has made a deal with a man to help his business. thomas’s only condition? to marry the man's daughter. except she doesn’t want to marry him. 

pairing | thomas shelby x fem!reader

word count | 1.98k

 genre | fluff with some angst?

requested? | yes! i had so much fun writing this! especially since i have never written anything like this before! thank you so much for requesting! please let me know if you like it!

warnings! | arranged marriage? darkish thomas? (not really, i’m just not great at writing dark characters sometimes, lol) not proof read yet!

author’s note! | hey everyone! this main character was written with poc in mind, i have tried my best, but since i am not a person of color please let me know if there is anything i can change to make it better! i hope you enjoy your request! please know that if you have requested something, i promise that i will get to it soon! And as always, I do I have really bad OCD that causes me to write in some random capitalization, and punctuation, But I think that we don't have to worry about that in this fic lol. And let me know if there are any mistakes, but please be kind!

Thomas knew what was happening today, hell his whole family knew. His future bride was coming to birmingham. He struck up a good deal with her father about helping her fathers business about a week ago, then he saw a photo of the man's daughter. The only condition Thomas made? To marry his daughter. Once they agreed, the man said he needed a week to get his family there. By the time they got there, Thomas had already got everything set up to make damn sure the man would be successful in birmingham. Which included a few fights, but Thomas would do it all over again if it meant he could have her. 

They weren’t to meet until the wedding, something her father insisted on. So Thomas stood in a room of the church getting ready, when his brother John busted in. 

“They can’t find her Tommy” was all John said as he huffed as if he was out of breath.

Thomas’s mind began to race. What did he mean they couldn’t find her? Has something happened? Had one of his enemies found out about today and took her? 

“She was getting ready, and asked for a moment to herself, when her mother came back in to check on her, she was gone.” John added as he leaned on the closest chair. 

Thomas stood and took in his brother's words for a moment before he left the room. His future wife was out in Birmingham in her pretty white dress, with no protection and no one was doing anything about it. Her family may not know this city, but Thomas did. He knew what could happen to her if she stayed out there too long. This won’t be an issue when they’re married, and she has his last name. She could kill someone and get away with it then, but right now no one in Birmingham knows who she is. All they know is that she is a pretty girl in a white wedding dress, and the thought of what could happen to her made him sick.  

Thomas looked everywhere he could think his fiance would be. He couldn’t find her anywhere, the only place he hadn’t checked was the Garrison. 

He walked in to see his bride to be, standing behind the bar making herself what looked like her fourth drink. He walked in slowly, making sure not to scare her. 

“(Y/n)?” He asked as he walked up to the bar. She looked up at him as she continued to make her drink. “I’m Thomas Shelby, your future-”

“I know who you are.” She said, cutting him off. 

“Well, we're supposed to be getting married right now.” He said matter of factly. “So what are you doing here?”

“I’m not marrying you, thought you would have figured that out by now.” She said as she took a sip of her drink. 

Thomas looked at her, making sure to not show how shocked he was that she was speaking to him that way.

“And, why not?” He asked her, now intrigued. 

“I don’t want to, I don't know you.” She said as she finished her drink. 

Thomas moved to be behind the bar where she was. He took her drink from her hand and placed it on the bar. 

“(Y/n)” He said as he towered over her. “Your father has already given me your hand.” 

“I know, I don’t care.” She said as she grabbed her drink back from Thomas.

Thomas just took a moment and stared at the girl as she took her drink back. It was the first time he truly got to look at her. He got to take in the color of her eyes, and the curl of her hair, she truly was beautiful.

“Why exactly are you so against marrying me?” He asked as he stared at her. 

“I want to be my own person, not defined by my father or my husband.” She said not missing a beat. 

“I think I can help with that.” Thomas said, starting to get closer to the girl. “I have a certain reputation, if you’re married to me, you’ll be untouchable.”

“That's still me being defined by my husband.” She said, cutting him off with a small eye roll. 

Thomas took the drink from her and set it back down, but this time, she didn’t turn away from him, she just stared up at him, waiting for him to continue. 

“As I was saying, you would be untouchable, and if you wanted a role in peaky blinder business, you wouldn’t just be “Thomas Shelby's wife”. You would be “(Y/n) Shelby, most feared woman in Birmingham”. You have an opportunity here, the choice is yours.” Thomas said, staring her in the eyes. Normally he would never offer this to someone he just met. But there was something about (Y/n), just the look in her eyes, the way she wasn’t scared of him, how she held herself, how she looked at him with the same amount of intensity he looked a her with, how she didn’t care she was defying the most feared man in birmingham. "Don't let your pride get in the way of a smart decision."

Thomas watches the girl stare at the wall for a moment, him taking in her side profile. Until she finally looked up at him.

"I won't be reduced to just your little wife?" She asked with a small glimmer of hope in her eyes.

"I'll let you take care of anyone who says you are" He said with a serious look on his face.

The girl gave him a small smile, it was obvious that no one had ever believed in her the way Thomas was right now, that they all thought of her as some weak little girl and nothing more.

"Fine, I'll marry you" She said as she looked up at him with a small smile. 

Thomas wrapped her arm in his and led her out of the Garrison. He held the bottom of her white dress up away from the dirt as he walked them back to the church. 

“You know, you’re not supposed to see the bride before the wedding.” She said to him with a small laugh. “It’s bad luck.” 

“I won’t let anything ruin this marriage, trust me.” He said as he opened the church door for her and let her walk in first. Thomas watched as her family whisked her away, knowing that this girl was truly something he had never expected her to be, and he loved it.

[dilf-issues]

Your Eyes Tell (T.S)

Synopsis: Tommy could never accept a whore to love. But he did anyways, however his ego and pride might be the death of him.

Warnings: Thomas is an asshole and emotionally constipated. (Well he kinda always is), Former Prostitute! Reader, unrequited love?, kidnapping, torture, slight gore, mentions of unwanted pregnancy. ANGST ANGST ANGST, miscarriage, memory lost, vulgar language, sex and mentions of sex, mentions of sexual harrasment and tba…

A/N: Hi everyone this is my first ever story because I have newly converted to Murphysm. I used to write for two different fandoms (Marvel/BTS) if anybody knew me I used to be @steveodinsonbarnes and @voidswan . However I have quit writing for almost two years but recently i fell in love with Cillian Murphy and I just HAD to write about him. Please be gentle on me! It’s been a looong time since I’ve written anything. However for this blog, expect countless of fandoms lol.

PART 2

.

You stood in the doorway of Thomas's office, watching as he poured over some papers on his desk. He seemed to notice your presence, glancing up briefly before returning to his work. The air between you two was thick with tension. You knew how he felt, but his pride would never allow him to admit it. You slowly walked into the room, closing the door quietly behind you.

“Tommy…” You called out his name, to get his attention. Your voice was trembling slightly as you nicked on your nails and fingers, fidgeting out of nervousness.

Thomas looked up from his work, his expression unreadable. "What do you want?" he asked gruffly. His returned back to the papers, not even bothering to meet your eyes.

You were terrified. You were scared for your life because if you told him what you were about to tell him, you didn’t know how he would react. God knows. You stepped inside his office, attempting to get closer to him. By now you were already standing in front of his desk, looking down at the man you loved dearly and he didn’t even love you back. You knew that much at least.

He leaned back in his chair, studying you closely. "Well, spit it out then," he said, his tone harsh. Getting impatient, Thomas tapped his desk as he breathed out. He was bombarded with paperwork and he had no time to actually deal with you, all he felt was stress and frustration.

I frowned at his tone, looking down as I suddenly felt so small even though I was the one standing and he was sitting in front of me.

“Tommy, there’s something you should know...” Your heart was pounding in your chest as you trembled, you felt the cold sweat running down your neck and it felt like you were about to faint.

Thomas saw the fear in your eyes and his expression softened slightly. "What is it?" he asked, his tone less harsh but still guarded.

“Tommy...” I paused before taking a deep breath before saying what I wanted to say, “I’m pregnant...”

Thomas's expression froze, his eyes wide with shock. "You're.. pregnant?" he repeated, his voice barely above a whisper. He sat in stunned silence for a moment before standing up abruptly and pacing the room.

The first emotion that Thomas felt was confusion, however it quickly turned into anger.

“Who had you been fucking behind me, eh?” You looked at him in disbelief, your hands that you were nicking and fidgeting now fell by your side as you felt anger. Thomas stopped pacing and faced you, his expression hardening. "Are you sure it's mine?" he asked, his voice laced with doubt.

“What do you mean? The only person I’ve been fucking is you, Tommy! For the past two years, I have been with nobody but you!” Your emotions were going haywire, it made sense of the hormonal changes you were going through. You cried out to him and you knew you looked stupid but you couldn’t care less. There was a life growing inside you for four months now and you had just now realized. You always thought you had just been eating too much and gaining weight. However, after a visit to the doctor, he had said otherwise.

Hearing your words, a flicker of guilt crossed Thomas's face. He knew you had always been faithful to him; his previous doubt was just a manifestation of his own insecurities. He let out a sigh, running a hand through his hair. "And you're sure it's mine?" he asked again.

Your sobs quieted down as you looked at him sadly, “Do you still think of me as the whore you found at the side of the streets years ago, Tommy?”

Disappointment and sadness were laced in your voice. Feeling your heart breaking as Tommy stayed silent. He didn’t know what to say, he looked down on you for years and he had never seen you as his equal. At least that was what he tried to convince himself. He could never respect a whore. However, with you, there were times when he had been different, caring, and kind.

“Am I still a dirty whore in your eyes, Thomas?!” I suddenly raised my voice, feeling betrayed.

Thomas winced at your question, knowing he had hurt you. "No, no, I don't think that," At least not as much as back then. His voice taking on a remorseful tone. He stepped closer to you, reaching out to touch your shoulder. "It's just... this is unexpected, that's all."

“It’s yours. I am 4 months pregnant, Tommy...” I stepped closer to him, taking his hands in mind as I looked at him pleadingly. “We could be a family, it’s all I ever wanted with you...”

Thomas’ heart dropped at the confession as he avoided your pleading gaze. The thought sounded nice, you were beautiful and there were no doubts your child with him would be too.

But you... You were a whore. Someone he looked down upon. Even though you have left that life for almost 4 years, he still couldn’t accept that.

Thomas was silent for a moment, absorbing the information. It wasn't that he truly doubted you, but rather, he was having a hard time processing everything. "Four months, huh?" he said quietly, still trying to wrap his head around the situation.

“Yes, Tommy, we can do this! I promise you I will be a wonderful mother... Just please, give me a chance. See me as a lover, Tommy. I beg. We can be so happy, I can make you so happy” You promised him, with hopefulness filling your eyes. You were smiling, already imagining the life ahead of the start of your family with the love of your life.

Thomas's anger seemed to be directed more at the situation than at you. "What were you thinking?" he said, his voice cold and harsh. "Did you not think about the consequences? About what this might do to our lives? Did you think I'd just be happy about this?"

The smile left your face.

“Tommy, this is your child... Our child...”

Thomas's face darkened at your words. "Our child," he repeated, mockingly. "You think I want this? A bastard child with a prostitute?" He took a step closer, towering over you. "You should have been more careful."

You dropped his hands that were in your eyes as you stared blankly at the wall behind him, the tears welling in your eyes once again. Your heart was shattering so loud you could hear it but Tommy was blind, of course, he wouldn’t see how much that hurts you.

“You… don’t mean that… I know you love me, Tommy, I’ve seen you” It was something Tommy would never admit. He would die rather than admit the feelings buried deep inside for you. He had too much pride, he had a reputation to maintain.

Thomas stepped even closer to you, his face inches from yours. "Oh, you've seen it, have you?" he said, his expression hard. "And what makes you think I love you? Just because I've taken care of you? Don’t mistake that for love."

You felt your heart break in a million pieces as you held your tummy, holding the life you and Tommy had created, “Please… Tommy”

Thomas watched as your expression fell, a pang of guilt tugging at his chest. Yet, he refused to show any weakness. "Save your tears," he said, his voice cold. "You should have thought about all of this before letting yourself get pregnant." Thomas's face was hard as he spoke, his words meant to hurt you. "If you can't remember who the father is, then maybe you should go find out" he said, his voice cold and harsh. "It's not my responsibility to take care of a child that might not even be mine."

Thomas watched as you broke down, your tears falling freely. He remained stoic, not wanting to show any weakness. But a pang of guilt tugged at his heart as he realized how harsh his words were. He had taken you in when no one else would, and you had been fully loyal to him. Yet, he couldn't bring himself to admit his true feelings.

“If you don’t accept our child, I’m leaving!” You cried out as you headed towards the door.

Thomas's face darkened at your threat. "You think you can threaten me?" he said, his tone cold. "You have nowhere else to go. Do you really think anyone else will take you in once they find out you're having a bastard child?"

You had said nothing more, instead, you wiped your tears as you looked at him with pure hatred. You stormed out of his office and saying nothing more to him.

Thomas watched you storm out of his office, his expression stoic. But, inside, he was filled with a whirlwind of emotions. Seeing your tears stirred something in him, making him question his cruel words. But his pride and his stubbornness refused to let him follow you.

Thomas leaned back in his chair, a smug expression on his face. "She'll be back," he muttered to himself. "She has nowhere else to go. In a day or two, she'll come crawling back, begging me to forgive her."

However, suddenly Tommy had the thought of the family we could have been. He would never admit it because he was too ashamed but the vision was nice. The thought crept into Thomas's mind, uninvited and unwelcome. It was the image of a family with you, a child cradled in your arms. It was a scene that he hadn't dared to allow himself to imagine, but now, it was there, in his mind's eye. He tried to shake it off, but the vision wouldn't leave.

“She will come back” Thomas repeated the words to himself like a mantra, trying to convince himself that you would return. He tried to suppress the image of a family that had invaded his thoughts, but it lingered at the back of his mind. "She will come back," he muttered again, taking another drag from his cigarette.

.

Days passed, and you never returned to Thomas's office. Each day, he expected you to show up, hat in hand, begging for forgiveness. But each day, you remained absent. As the days turned into weeks, Thomas's smug expression faded, replaced with a growing sense of unease.

Polly, Thomas's sister, was growing increasingly concerned and frustrated with her brother. She had tried multiple times to convince him to look for you, but he insisted that you would come back on your own.

"Tommy, you can't just sit here and do nothing," Polly scolded him. "She's carrying your child! Have you no sense of responsibility? What if something happens to her Tommy?!”

Thomas scowled at his sister, his ego still ruling his actions. "She's a grown woman, she can take care of herself," he said, his voice cold and dismissive. "And it's not like I wanted this child in the first place."

“You tell yourself this lie, all the time but we all know how much you care for her Tommy. She’s out there all alone with your child and god knows what could happen to her!”

Thomas clenched his jaw, hearing the truth in his sister's words. He tried to deny it, to convince himself that he didn't care, but deep down, he knew it was a lie. He did care for you, more than he wanted to admit, and the thought of you out there alone, pregnant with his child, was gnawing at him.

But his pride and stubbornness held him back. He couldn't bring himself to admit his feelings, to admit that he was wrong. "I'm not going to go chasing after her like some damn lovesick puppy," he grumbled, his usual cold demeanor back in place.

Thomas tried to put on a display of indifference, but inside, he was starting to doubt his own words. The days were passing, and you hadn't shown up. The realization that you might not come back was slowly sinking in, no matter how much he denied it.

Polly saw the flicker of doubt in her brother's eyes, her concern growing stronger. "Are you sure about that, Tommy? You can't keep playing these games forever," she said, her voice soft but firm. "You need to take responsibility for your actions. That woman carries your child."

Tommy was about to argue with his sister again but was interrupted when his brother John entered the room, bursting in without a warning.

As soon as he saw John's expression, Thomas knew something was wrong. He stood up quickly, his demeanor changing from aloof to concerned. "What is it, John? What's wrong?"

“Tommy, you got to come quick! It’s Y/N” Tommy’s ears perked up when he heard John mention his name.

Tommy glanced at Polly, “I told you she would come back” His voice had a sense of smugness and Polly could only shake her head in disappointment.

As they both followed John to the living room, Tommy saw a crowd of the Peaky Blinders surrounding the long couch. As he got curious, he pushed past them and met with a horrible sight.

You did come back. Just not in the way Tommy had hoped.

Your body lay on the large couch in his mansion, it was stiff and not moving. There were patches of bruises everywhere, you were barely decent, and the dress that you wore was torn to pieces but luckily it covered the parts that mattered. Blood was slowly seeping into the couch, leaking out of the wound on your sides. Arthur who had looked traumatized, was holding onto a cloth to stop the bleeding, holding onto it like it was his life.

“She’s still alive, Tommy but barely. Isaiah found her on the side of the streets a couple of kilometers away from the Garrison” Arthur breathed out, feeling the pulse on your arm faint but there.

“Well, what the fuck are all of you doing? GET A FUCKING DOCTOR!” Thomas shouted at his gang members as everyone scattered, looking to find the best doctor in the whole country if they could. When everyone had fled, the only ones left in the room were both Thomas and Polly.

“What have you done, Tommy? This is all your fucking fault!” Polly cried out as she tried to tend to your unconscious body that was on the brink of death.

“S-Shut up, Poll. Shut up! Get a new fucking cloth! She’s bleeding too fucking much, someone fucking stabbed her” Tommy cried out, he had never been someone to show his emotions however in this situation he was crying and panicking as he caressed your hair. “Find out who fucking did this poll I’m gonna make them wish they were never fucking born!”

Thomas couldn't control the tears streaming down his face as he looked at you, his heart full of pain at the sight of your battered body.

“No, no, no,” Thomas choked out, tears streaming down his face as he kneeled beside you. "Please, don't leave me. I’m sorry, please my love... I’m sorry”

Thomas had stayed with you until finally, a renowned doctor arrived. Thomas remained vigilantly by your side as the doctor examined your injuries, assessing the extent of the damage. The room was eerily silent, filled only with the sound of the doctor's quiet mutterings and the occasional instruction given to one of the brothers.

Thomas watched as the doctor carefully tended to you, trying to hold back his growing sense of despair. His thoughts were filled with worry and self-recrimination, silently cursing himself for not being there to protect you.

“Mr. Shelby, her wounds are extremely severe and some of them are even internal... It will take a very long time to recover but I will try my best” Thomas was seething as he lifted the innocent man off the floor by his collar.

“You better make sure she’s fucking alive because if you fail, I’m going to fucking kill you” The doctor trembled as John stepped in and apologized to him for his brother’s behaviour.

“Tommy this man is the only chance you have to see her again, so you better fucking listen to him and calm the fuck down, alright?” John scolded.

Tommy took deep breathes as he tried to calm himself down. Thomas nodded, his expression grim. The news was not what he had hoped to hear, but he appreciated the doctor's honesty. "

What about the child?" he asked, his voice laced with both hope and fear.

“Child?” The doctor was confused and so was everyone inside the room except for Polly. Nobody had known you were pregnant with his child except for Polly, who you had told beforehand.

Thomas's eyes widened in shock. "Yes, the child," he reiterated, his voice growing more urgent. "My woman...she's pregnant."

Everybody stood in the room with shock written on their faces. Everybody knew the obvious affection Tommy had for you no matter how hard he tried to hide and deny it. But never in a million years would they hear him calling you ‘his woman’

The doctor checked for a second heartbeat inside your belly, as he looked at your unconcious body sadly. For some reason, he told everyone to leave the room, including Tommy himself.

“If everybody could leave, I need to check the condition of her pregnancy” Tommy wanted to protest but Polly pulled him out of the room either way.

Thomas felt a pang of anxiety as the doctor asked everyone to leave the room. He didn’t understand why he needed to leave but he also knew that this could mean something serious. With visible reluctance, he left the room, joining the others outside.

He watched through the window, his frustration mounting as he waited for news about the pregnancy. The tension in his body mirrored the turmoil in his heart.

The doctor called Tommy back in and this time, only he went with Polly but left everyone else outside.

“Mr. Shelby...” The doctor sighed sadly, “Your partner had insufficient blood flow due to her stab wounds... I’m sorry to tell you that the baby had passed”

The world seemed to stop for Tommy as the doctor's words sunk in. The news hit him like a punch to the stomach, knocking the air from his lungs. His mind was a swirling vortex of grief and shock.

"No," he muttered, his voice barely above a whisper. "No, it can't be..."

As the doctor's words echoed in his mind, Tommy felt his world collapsing around him. The loss of the child hit him hard, the weight of grief crashing down upon his shoulders. He wanted to scream, to punch something, but all he could do was stand there trembling, his face etched with anguish.

"Why...?" he whispered, his voice raw with emotion. "Why did this have to happen?"

“The fetus is still in her womb, I’m afraid I may need your permission to remove it so she wouldn’t have futher complications with her injury”

As Polly wept beside him, Tommy felt a pang of despair. He knew she blamed him and he couldn't, in that moment, deny that it was partially his fault. If he had been kinder, more attentive, maybe none of this would have happened. He remained silent, his heart breaking with every cry that escaped her.

The room was heavy with grief, the air thick with sorrow.

Tommy turned to his sister, his eyes dark with regret. "I know you blame me, and you're right to," he whispered. "I was a fool, Polly. A damn fool."

“I am angry but you are still my brother, all you can do now is give her all you can” Polly advised as he hugged Tommy so he could cry on her shoulders.

“I have to take the deceased fetus out of her womb, and I think you should do a burial, Mr. Shelby” The doctor remarked.

Tommy's expression hardened as the doctor mentioned the burial. The thought of having to lay his child to rest felt like another knife twisting in his heart. "Yes," he said quietly, his voice barely a whisper. "I'll make the arrangements."

“I’m sorry but I need to warn you again, she is in critical condition. There’s a small chance she’ll survive”

Tommy's heart skipped a beat as the doctor spoke. A mixture of hope and fear battled within him. He clutched the doorframe tightly, his knuckles turning white. "What do you mean by 'small chance'?" he asked, his voice hoarse.

“Her wounds are all deeply infected, it is starting to spread internally. It could spread to her organs and it could all fail, Mr. Shelby”

Tommy felt a sharp pang of fear in his chest as the doctor's words sank in. The mention of infected wounds spreading internally to her organs sent a chill down his spine. He couldn't bear the thought of losing you, especially after everything that had happened.

“Just try your best” Thomas spat harshly as the doctor nodded.

You were transferred to the hospital to receive critical care.

Tommy felt nothing but regret. So much regret to the point where he felt like he would kill himself he lost you. He can’t live with that guilt.

.

The weeks passed slowly for Tommy. Each day felt like an eternity as he spent his time by your side, hoping for you to wake up. He barely slept, and barely ate, his sole focus on your recovery.

With each passing day, his anger and determination grew. He exacted his revenge on the men that hurt you, taking control of their territory and leaving no survivors. The blood on his hands was a stark reminder of his path of vengeance.

Tommy was sitting right beside your unconscious body, every day he hoped for you to wake up but you never did. Stuck in a coma from his own doings.

Polly walked into the room as she sighed, looking at his brother sadly, “It’s time, Tommy”

“Time for what, Pol?”

“She is not waking up anytime soon, Tommy”

Tommy's expression darkened. He already knew that, but hearing Polly say it out loud brought a wave of grief crashing over him once again. He leaned back in his chair, rubbing a weary hand over his face.

"I know," he muttered quietly. "I know she's not awake."

“I talked to Dr. Smith, she might not make it”

Tommy felt a pang of dread in his chest. He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath to steady himself. The doctor's words echoed in his mind, a reminder of the harsh reality he was facing.

"He said 'might,'" Tommy replied, his voice tinged with a hint of defiance. "That means there's still a chance she could wake up."

“It’s time you say goodbye to her, love. You can’t keep her like this” Tommy's heart clenched at Polly's words. The thought of saying goodbye to you was like a dagger to the heart, but he knew that deep down, it was a possibility he might have to face.

He paused for a moment, warring with himself. "I can't," he whispered, his voice filled with grief and despair. "I can't say goodbye to her, Pol. Not yet."

“Then just tell her about how you feel because if she is truly gone, you will regret leaving things unsaid. Tommy” As Polly's words hung in the air, Tommy felt a rush of emotions he had long kept buried. She was right. There were things he had always wanted to say to you, things he had never dared to voice aloud.

Tommy looked down at his hands, his mind racing. He knew this might be his last chance to share his true feelings with you. He took a deep breath, summoning the courage.

"I'll talk to her, Pol," he whispered quietly.

Polly left the room the give her brother some space as he looked at your unconscious form. Seeing you lying there, so still and fragile, filled him with a sense of protectiveness and despair. He stepped closer, taking your hand in his.

His eyes traced the contours of your face, lingering on the faded scars left by your ordeal. He sat down on the edge of the bed, his fingers gently tracing the outline of your bruised cheeks.

Tommy's grip on your hand tightened as he began to speak, his voice tinged with regret. "I'm sorry," he whispered fiercely. "For everything. For being an idiot. For hurting you. For not seeing how precious you were to me."

He paused, his throat tightening with emotion. Admitting his mistakes out loud, especially to you, was like revealing a vulnerability he had long kept hidden.

He continued, "I was a fool, love. A damn fool. I let my pride and my own insecurities blind me from what was right in front of me this whole time."

As the words spilled out of him, it was as if a dam had burst inside, freeing all the feelings he had kept carefully concealed for so long.

"You were my light," he murmured. "My rock in the storm. And I pushed you away, too blinded by my own anger and stupidity to see it."

Tommy's expression was one of deep anguish, his regret etched in every line on his face. He held your hand tighter, his thumb gently stroking your knuckles.

Tommy continued, his voice growing softer yet intense. "And god, love, I love you. I've always loved you, I think. From the moment I first laid eyes on you. But I was too bloody stubborn to acknowledge it, to admit it to you or even to myself."

He paused for a moment, his eyes locked on your face, silently praying for a sign, any sign, of your response.

As Tommy poured out his heart, he was too engrossed in his own thoughts and words to notice the slight movement of your fingers on your side. His focus was solely on you, on confessing his feelings and hoping that somehow, you would hear his words and respond.

"But I see it now, love. I see it all so clearly," he went on, his grip on your hand tight. "I love you. With all my heart, I love you."

He leaned closer, his voice becoming a whisper. "Please, love. Please wake up," he pleaded, his voice shaking. "I need you to hear me. I need you to know that I love you more than anything in this world."

Tommy's eyes searched your face for any sign of response, any indication that you were hearing him beneath your unconscious state.

Suddenly, Tommy could see your eyes fluttering.

At the sight of your eyelids fluttering open, Tommy's heart skipped a beat. He leaned in closer, his breath held in anticipation. "Love? Can you hear me, love?" he asked, his voice filled with hopeful awe.

“Tommy?”

To be continued...

-

A/N: HEHEHE HOW WAS THAT? Sorry for the cliffhanger I need your opinion on the story! So please drop me a comment or ask because your constructive criticism would really help!

[kte-alxxndr]

Voiceless | Shattered Trust

Tommy Shelby x Reader

As Polly, Arthur, John, and Ada stepped out of the office, the heavy door closed behind them, creating a brief cocoon of privacy for the wounded couple.

Tommy, urgency etched on his face, hurriedly began to explain, "Y/N, you have to believe me. Those rumors with Grace, they're not true. She's trying to stir up trouble. It's all lies."

Y/N, with a skeptical glance, scoffed and rolled her eyes, an unmistakable expression of disbelief. She turned away, her silent demeanor screaming a refusal to accept Tommy's words.

Yet, as Y/N started to walk toward the door, a sudden, cutting remark from Tommy triggered her. "You always let your insecurities ruin everything good in your life," he retorted, unknowingly adding fuel to the already blazing fire of Y/N's emotions.

In an instant, Tommy's eyes widened with the realization of his hurtful words. "Wait, Y/N, I didn't mean that. I'm sorry. Please forgive me," he pleaded, genuine regret washing over his features.

Without a second thought, she grabbed the nearest object—a delicate, expensive figurine—and flung it at Tommy with a force fueled by frustration and hurt.

Tommy's instincts kicked in, and he narrowly dodged the projectile. "What the fuck, Y/N? You almost killed me," he exclaimed, his voice a mix of shock and irritation.

The room fell silent once more, the shattered figurine a stark reminder of the fragility of trust. Y/N, her eyes ablaze, faced Tommy with a mix of defiance and wounded pride, leaving the air thick with unresolved tension.

Undeterred, Tommy continued, his desperation palpable. "I swear on everything I have, Y/N. I've been loyal to you. I don't know what's gotten into Grace, but you're the only one for me. I can't imagine my life without you."

Y/N, on the verge of walking away, halted at the sincerity in Tommy's voice. The raw emotion painted across his face began to pierce through her walls of hurt and doubt.

Tommy, sensing an opportunity, approached her cautiously, his words a plea. "Don't go, Y/N. I need you. I don't know how I'll survive without you. I can't lose you over something that's not true. I love you."

Silence hung in the air as Y/N wrestled with conflicting emotions. The room, once filled with tension, now resonated with the desperate plea of a man unwilling to let go.In that vulnerable moment, Y/N turned to face Tommy once more. Her eyes, still clouded with pain, searched his for a trace of sincerity. Tommy, his heart laid bare, awaited her response.

With a heavy sigh, Y/N's stern expression softened, and she nodded, signaling a reluctant acknowledgment of Tommy's words. The room seemed to exhale, the tension gradually dissipating.

As Y/N reached out to wipe away a tear that lingered on her cheek, Tommy gently caught her hand, an unspoken promise to mend what had been broken. They stood there, the weight of their unspoken understanding binding them together, determined to weather the storms that threatened to tear them apart.

Masterlist | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

[dreamerschroniclesofstories]

Crawl home to her

A/N: thank you so much for your love on my previous work  “ Goodbye, Tommy Shelby”, i appreciate it so much, i will officially be starting the sequel next week. i'm currently very busy with end of term uni assignments. For this fic you are about to read, i would recommend listening to work song by hozier.

I DON'T GIVE PERMISSION FOR YOU TO REPOST THIS ON ANY OTHER SITE AND TO TRANSLATE THIS.

Summery: who would of thought a conversation with Polly, after another war riddled nightmare, could cause tommys love to come back to him.

Word count: 1,748

The dark. Tommy's worst enemy since the war. It isn't the dark that scares him, its the noises of the consistent banging of shovels and the pained yells of men coming from his walls that taunt him every time he closes his eyes. Usually, the opium he keeps hidden in his draw stops the noises for a few hours.

But not tonight.

Tommy gasps as he opens his eyes and sits up, the room spinning as he slowly sits on the edge of his bed, putting his hands on his head, trying to calm down, his heart races inhumanly fast, he swears one day his heart would burst through his chest.

Like every other night, Tommy stands up, grabs a cigarette from his pouch on his bedside table and leaves him room. the floorboards creak as he walks past the other bedrooms that hold his two brothers, Arthur and Finn, and the bedroom that holds his aunt Polly. The old wooden floor has been shaped over time by each sole of the Shelby family, from generations of living in the house.

Tommy walks into the kitchen and stops in his tracks when he sees Polly sat at the table, he raises an eyebrow as he takes the cigarette from between his lips, continuing to walk to the small table that holds the whiskey. He pours himself a glass.

" why are you up poll?" he asks confused, then gulps down the whiskey from the glass.

" much like you Thomas , nightmares" she whispers, holding her mug of tea in both hands, making sure the warm steam hits her face so it could protect her from the coldness of the night.

" i don't know what you're on about pol" he grumbles, pouring himself another glass of whiskey, then he walks over to the table and sits down across from Polly.

Polly raises an eyebrow, watching Tommy as she sips her tea. Polly knew Tommy was lying, since he was child she could sense when he wasn't telling the truth. He knew this, that's why Tommy chuckles quietly.

" and you pol?" he asks knowingly, wanting to change the subject, leaning back in his seat then takes a drag of his cigarette, seconds later blowing out the smoke.

The small kitchen area was filling up with smoke. Polly delicately places her mug down onto the table, grabbing a cigarette from her own pouch.

"i have the sight Thomas, i have nightmare almost every night" Polly explains, then lights the cigarette before taking her first drag "your's is about the war" she determined.

" it's not serious Polly, every man that came back from France. mentally never leaves" tommy whispers.

polly smirks " yes but most of those men have someone at home to help them, you did but you pushed her away" she points out.

Tommy immediately tenses up, he has not spoken to or about her since before the war. By her, he means his childhood best friend, Alice. They had met during school when Alice was left out on the first day of school and Tommy noticed and went over to Alice to talk to her. Since then, if you saw one you knew the other would be close by.

However, a week before the war. Alice and Tommy had an argument after Alice found out Tommy enlisted. They did not talk it out in time before Tommy left. When Tommy came back, he was a changed man, he did not want Alice involved in the life he had become involved with.

" don't pol" Tommy warns.

" she's a seamstress now Tommy, has her own little shop on the other side of town, sometimes i see her at the markets" she shared.

When Tommy and Alice were teens, Alice always talked about making dress's when she left school. However, she was always self-conscious about the dresses she made and use to show them to Tommy. He was her number one fan, he use to encourage her to sell them, Tommy was the only person who believed in herself.

Tommy smiles slightly " she does?" his eyes sparkle slightly, causing Polly to chuckle.

Polly nods " she lives two streets behind her, next door to Mrs. dingle, the baker"Polly explains.

Tommy stands up and grabs his coat, not saying a word to Polly as he leaves.

Alice's flat

A sleepless night, in Alice's mind, was a chance to mediate about the previous day and the day that was coming. Mediation helps Alice to feel the energy of the world sparkling at her finger tips. The energy asks her to let them in and help her dreams become a nighttime reality.

It was one of them nights for Alice, she sat on her one person couch by her window, watching as the stars twinkle down onto small health, making natural guide lights for the men going home from a late nigh at work. Alice found the night sky beautiful, she finds that the stars look like snowflakes in the night, yet they are forever still. Alice found it amazing that for centuries and millenia's, everyone had seen the same constellations.

Alice stood up, going to her kitchen to pour herself another cup of tea, the sound of a knock on her door makes her flinch. It is two in the morning, who would be knocking on her door.

Alice picks up her gun from her kitchen draw and walks to the front door, even though she doesn't speak to Tommy anymore, she knew she needed protection encase someone who knows they were friends comes after.

She takes the safety off her gun and begins to open the door, as the door inches open her heart feels like it was about to burst from anxiety.

Alice frowns when she sees a man standing in front of her door with his head tilting down, his peaked cap covering his eyes but she knew who it was immediately.

"Tommy?"she whispers, her voice soft but also shaky. They had seen each other this close since before the war.

Tommy lifts his head, making eye contact with Alice, His eyes are the same. They were the colour of every dancing sky, filled with infinite hues of that are illuminated by newborn light.

He coughs slightly " can i come in?" his voice vibrating through her bones, causing a much welcomed and missed vibration.

Alice nods and moves to the side, allowing Tommy to walk into her small but homely flat. He takes off her cap, Alice closes the door then walks back over to her kitchen.

"Would you like a drink?" Alice asks, looking over at Tommy, who was taking his coat off.

"whiskey?" he asks, sitting at her small dinning table.

Alice smiles and nods, she takes the bottle of Irish whiskey from the back of her cupboard, then takes the whiskey cup from the cupboard as well before walking over to Tommy.

"are you in trouble?" she questions, placing the glass in-front of Tommy then pours the whiskey slowly.

Tommy frowns " i'm not, why would you think that?" he asks confused.

" you are Thomas Shelby, you have a lot of enemies and we have not spoken for nearly five years Tommy, so why are you here?" she points out, sitting down across from him.

" i heard you are a seamstress" he states, taking out a cigarette from his pouch, lighting it. All the whilst, not breaking eye contact with Alice.

She chuckles " you came here at nearly three in the morning to talk about my job?" Alice raises an eyebrow.

Tommy smirks slightly " There's only so much a man can take of his four walls" he admits.

Alice hums " having nightmares? I've heard a lot of men that came back from France have them, some so bad they go to the hospital" she whispers, her eyes now full of worry.

" i'm Thomas Shelby, you don't have to worry about me" he jokes.

Alice rolls her eyes and stands up, walking around the table, pulling out the chair beside Tommy and sits down, grabbing his hands gently " you were my best friend Tommy, of course i'm going to worry about you. Don't give me the Shelby bullshit" she affirmed.

Tommy smiles for the first time since he came back from France "glad to see you have changed"

Alice smiles softly " i'd never changed Tommy, i'll forever be me, for you" she admits.

Both of them did not say a word to each-other after that, the tension was thick between them. Tommy gently lifts his hand, stroking his thumb down Alice's cheekbone down to her lips, her pale skin was like the silk of the petals of white roses in the summer. Tommy glances down at her lips, his thumb gliding over her plump bottom lip. Alice inhaled softly at the touch, her lips were as good as her eyes. Painting a picture of her emotions.

"i love you" Alice blurts out.

In the stillness of the moment that follows her confession, there so much both of them can say. Alice doesn't regret what she say, sudden moments are a risk but sometimes they are necessary to get what you want. So instead of tommy replying, he gently puts his hand on her cheek and pulls her in. Kissing her.

Kissing her softly but with passionate purpose. Kissing her, immediately stopped the sound of shovels and the sound of mens screams.

Theres a muffled sound of shock from Alice before she softens into the kiss. Her delicate hand finding her place on the back of tommys neck , her lips move against his, as if she was whispering a question over and over again for him. He pulls back slowly, thinking she would want him too.However, Alice follows him, chasing after his lips. Her glazed eyes opening.

in that kiss, was the sweetness of their passion, a million loving thoughts condensed into one moment.

Alice smiles happily, looking between tommys eyes, her eyes full of love. If any one moment in Alice's life were to ancher her soul , creating a tie to this reality. it would be the moment she fell in love with him. She realised that she had a protector born for pure love and how could she not love that? How could she not love all of Thomas Shelby. He is the rope and the knot to her vessel that is now in safe mooring. For this, she will forever be his.

Alice strokes tommys cheek softly " you've come home to me"

A/N: EEEK! i am so proud of this one. Please leave a like, comment and/or re-blog. It is all appreciated xx

[captain-fantasy]

cillian murphy! peaky blinders setting x reader.

could you do a fic where Thomas Shelby and the reader meet at a pub after Grace dies (cuz thomas is high key sad and wants to drink) and some heavy smut happens between both of them.

-🦆anon

Unveiled Hearts - Thomas Shelby x f!reader

Warnings: Mentions of death, alcohol, smut

Grace's death had shaken Thomas Shelby unlike anything had before. He lost his beloved wife, the mother of his child, and the only person he felt would ever truly understand him. 

Thomas had retreated into himself, shutting out the world and drowning himself in whatever alcohol would provide momentary comfort. His family had tried to console him, but nothing seemed to make a difference. Instead, he was consumed by his grief, anger, and regret. 

One late night, as Thomas sat alone in his study, he heard a knock at the door. He didn't bother getting up to answer it, barely moving his eyes to look at it. He knew it was probably just one of his brothers or Aunt Polly, but when the door opened, and you walked in, he felt something profound within his heart begin to light, something he hadn't felt since he was with Grace. 

You were one of the few people he trusted, a confidante who had always been there for him no matter what, even when you were kids. But you took one look at him and knew that something was wrong. His eyes were sunken and heavy, his hair was disheveled, and his clothes were in front of you. The stoic man you once knew was fading right in front of you. 

"Tommy," you said softly, closing the door behind you. "What's happened?"

Thomas didn't answer, staring at the floor as if the weight of the world was on his shoulders. You walked over and sat beside him, placing a hand on his arm.

"Talk to me, Tommy," you said. "Let me help you."

Thomas looked up at you, the gorgeous blue eyes you loved now filled with pain, his voice full of desperation. "I don't know what to do," he whispered. "I don't know how to live without her."

You didn't try to offer false comforts; you knew that wouldn't be helpful. So instead, you just sat there with him, holding him close and letting him cry. 

You sat there with Thomas for hours, listening to him talk about Grace. He spoke of their love, their plans for the future, and their shared dreams. As the night wore on, Thomas' tears began to dry up, and he fell into a deep sleep. You stayed with him, watching over him as he slept and promising to be there for him no matter what. 

You watched him until you saw the sun begin to rise, not even noticing how much time had passed since you saw him fall asleep. Then, finally, he began to stir, brows furrowing as small whines escaped his lips. You quickly got up, placing your hand on his shoulder to gently shake him awake and bring him out of his nightmare. 

Thomas slowly opened his eyes, confused and disoriented. When he realized where he was, he sat abruptly, looking around the room. 

"You stayed with me all night?" he asked, his voice hoarse. 

You nodded, smiling softly at him. "I wasn't going to leave you alone, Tommy."

Thomas looked at you for a long moment, his eyes less bloodshot and tired, now filled with gratitude and admiration. "Thank you," he said finally.

You smiled, feeling a warmth spread through your chest. "Of course, Tommy. You needed a friend."

Your own words stung you a little. You always loved Thomas, but you knew it was wise to just stay friends. Clearly, his way of life was far too dangerous for him to let anyone else in. What happened to Grace just made that even more evident. 

As one of the only people he trusted enough to let you see him like this, you knew it must have taken a lot from him to let his guard down, allowing you to see him at his worst. But then, when he stood up, you saw the effects of his work on his body. His arms and torso were littered with scars and healing cuts, and blue, black, and purple bruises mottled across his chest, almost covering his tattoo. 

Your mind came back down when he finally stood up, the hardwood floor creaking underneath him. Your eyes followed him as he dressed, watching as he carefully picked everything out, as if putting on a costume that would present himself to the world, covering up the wounds he tried so hard to hide.  

It was a while before either of you spoke. 

"Listen, I know it's early, but would you like to come back here for dinner tonight? I want to thank you properly for being here for me."

You smiled, looking down for a moment before you nodded, "I'd love to, Tommy. I'll see you tonight."

As you left Thomas's house, you couldn't help but feel a sense of hope. You knew it was wrong to hold on to these feelings so soon after his wife died, but you also knew that it would be good for Thomas to get out of his hole and start moving on. 

You returned to his house adorably prompt, deciding whether to knock or just walk in. You have been to his house countless times, and you were basically considered family, but because of this event, you were unsure if you should–

"How long were you standing there?" Thomas asked, pulling the door open. 

"Not too long."

Even though you'd been there before, the atmosphere had undoubtedly changed. Candles were lit, and the room smelled like the dish Tommy had spent all day trying to make. He was never a good cook, but the sentiment was there. 

You could tell that he had put a lot of effort into making this dinner special, and it was clear that he wanted to show his appreciation for everything you had done for him. 

As you sat down at the table, you couldn't help but feel a sense of nervousness. You knew that Thomas was still grieving, and you didn't want to do anything to make him feel uncomfortable. But as the night went on, the conversation flowed easily between you. You talked about everything and anything, from the secrets of your past to the hopes of the future. You were one of the only people he allowed to know his past. 

When you finished your meal and started to clear the table, Thomas reached out and took your hand. 

"I have to tell you something," he said softly, his eyes locked onto yours. 

You felt your heart racing as you waited for him to continue speaking. 

"I know this might not be the right time, and I know that people will talk shit about us, but I can't keep it inside anymore," he started. He had a lot to drink during your dinner, and you heard his words slur when he walked closer to you. The smell of whiskey on his breath burned your nose. 

"You're drunk, Tommy. We shouldn't–"

"Stop, just stop," he spoke, wrapping his hand around your wrist, pulling you closer, forcing you to listen to him. 

"You've been the only constant in my life since we were kids, y/n. I was an idiot to not see it before." His hand moved from your wrist to wrap around your waist. "All I've been thinking about for weeks was you."

Your eyes never left him. You were looking for any sign of a lie, but he was serious as far as you could tell. 

"I've felt so guilty, but I can't be without you anymore." he finished, waiting for you to respond. 

You felt the wetness between your legs growing, and you pressed your legs together to try and relieve the ache that had been there since you walked into the house.

"Kiss me, Tommy."

He didn't wait any longer, pulling you close for a deep kiss. The way his body pressed against you took all the air from your lungs, and for the first time in months, he could forget and lose himself in your touch. You moaned into his mouth, tasting the liquor he was drinking just a few moments ago. His hands traveled down your body, resting underneath the curve of your ass, grabbing a handful as he pressed you against the table. 

This kiss turned more aggressive before he turned you around and bent you over the table, reaching over to push the dishes he'd been working on all day off of the table. He pulled your bottoms down in seconds, looking at your dripping folds in the candlelight. 

"Already this wet?" he teased, "I've barely touched you." 

His voice was low in a way you hadn't heard before. His index finger gathered some of the wetness that hat started to drip down your legs, sliding effortlessly through your folds and making you desperate for more of him. 

"Please, Tommy, please." You've never sounded so pathetic. 

"Easy, sweetheart, I'll give you what you want." His voice got breathier. When you looked behind you, you saw that he had taken his aching cock out of his pants, giving it a few tugs, and lining against your entrance. You whined in anticipation, arching your back and pushing your ass out to touch him. 

With one quick push, his entire length was inside of you. The air left your body again, and you relished the breathy moans you heard from Tommy's lips. 

His hands gripped your hips tightly, and you were sure that you'd be sore for days when you were done. Tommy pounded into you, almost entirely dragging his entire length out before slamming into you again, the feeling almost too much for you to handle as you felt your orgasm approaching. 

This was not making love; it was purely physical. You knew that, and yet, you couldn't help yourself from imagining what it would be like to wake up with Thomas in the morning with his arms around you, hands traveling across his chest as you stared into his eyes while you made slow, passionate love. Not caring about what was happening outside your bedroom. 

In another life, you suppose.

You were brought out of your daydream when your orgasm hit you. Your vision turned white, and the fire in your stomach spread throughout your entire body. Tommy finished right after you, the feeling of fucking you through your orgasm too much for him to continue. 

As his hips stilled, your heavy breathing became the only thing he heard. Tommy gently turned you around to face him, and for the first time, you found it difficult to look him in the eyes. His hand moved under your chin, carefully cradling your face to have you look at him. 

A soft warmth spread through your body as his fingers brushed against your skin. You finally met his intense gaze, and within those piercing eyes, you saw a vulnerability you had never witnessed before. The smell of sex and the weight of unspoken words were heavy between you. 

Tommy broke the silence with a trembling voice, "I've been fighting it, but I can't hide it any longer. I love you. I have since we were kids and every day since that."

His confession left you breathless, your heart pounding in your chest. Emotions swirled within you, a mixture of joy and fear. You had longed to hear him say those words, but now that they were out, a world of uncertainties lay before you. 

Tommy continued, his voice filled with sincerity, "I understand if you don't feel the same or if this complicates our relationship, but I couldn't bear another day without telling you the truth. If you have me, I want to be by your side. I'd do anything for you. "

Gathering your courage, you touched his cheek, your thumb drawing tiny circles on his soft skin. 

"I love you, Tommy. With everything I have, I'm completely and hopelessly in love with you."

As the weight of unspoken feelings was finally lifted, you found solace in his embrace. The world around you faded away at that moment, leaving only the two of you. 

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