#Tomme Shelby

[filmesbrazil]

[call-sign-shark]

While I slowly catch up with everything let's play a game: send me your Oc name in my askbox and I'll write 100% and deep analysis about what Heaven would think about them.

All fandoms are welcome but if I don't know you send a little link or add short info about your character.

Also, you agree not to take things personally if the reply is negative - it's not you, it's Heaven who's a little non-empathic and mean shit.

[mctna2019]

why I like season 1 of peaky blinders more than season 2?

[agentidiot]

fuck it im giving alfie a new bf after i’m your man fic

[mydear-corinthian]

phone call

synopsis - tommy receives a phone call in the middle of having sex with his wife.

pairing - tommy shelby x reader / thomas shelby x reader

warnings - SMUT +18, rough sex, use of foul language, breeding kink, praising kink, creampie, just full of porn, unprotected sex, p in v

notes - short (w.c <850), gif and picture isn't mine, divider is mine

main masterlist | peaky blinders masterlist | cillian murphy masterlist

His hands explored every inch of your sensitive body with a satisfying touch that sent shivers down your spine. There was an irresistible affection between the two of you that was endless. Your breath caught as his dominant, wild hip thrusts into yours, causing hectic, unrestrained moans with every thrust.

"Oh my God- yes, Thomas!"

As he pushed you farther into the mattress, his weight and heat surrounded you as you lay beneath him, your bodies linked. He drew closer as your legs coiled around his hips, stretching you in the most delicious way as he slid deeper with each thrust. Tommy started to breathe hard, his chest heaving as sweat collected on his forehead and trickled down to mix with the heat from your smooth skin. He met your gaze with lust and something deeper than that.

"Yes, baby.. fuck- you take me so well.. so fucking well," he praised on your ear as he rested his head on your neck, his deep thrusts not stopping.

The telephone on top of the nightstand beside your shared bed rang loudly. Your husband stopped, looking at the phone near him.

Who the fuck is calling at this hour?

Tommy picked the phone up, not leaving the bed.

"Thomas Shelby." he answered.

You expected him that he would draw away and stop, especially when the phone rang. He stopped and reached for it, and you felt upset. Tommy, though, chose to stay still and answered the phone with one hand while tightening his grip on your waist with the other and suddenly thrusting his hips forward once more.

His thrusts continued to shock you, causing your body to tense in surprise, but before you could respond, pleasure took over. His cock sank farther, each malicious movement finding that exact spot. You ended up speechless by both of his soothing phone voice and the way he caused your body to react to him.

"What ha-happened?" Tommy asked over the phone, his breathing heavily telling each question with a struggled and unsteady voice. He attempted to keep his composure, but the force of his motions made it almost impossible as his chest rose and fell quickly. As he tried to concentrate on the talk, you could feel his heart thumping against your body and his breath rapid and hot against your skin.

Tommy looked at you, a smirk painted on his face. With his free hand, his fingers toyed with your hardened nipples, brushing them and squeezing it.

"Tomm-" you covered your mouth immediately as you nearly moaned his name out loud, afraid of whoever is on the phone hearing that Tommy is fucking his wife at the moment.

"Yeah, I'll handle that tomorrow morning," his voice was deep making you feel wetter and wetter. A familiar feeling coiled down through your stomach.

"Tommy, I'm so close," you quietly moaned. Your fingers gripped the silk bedsheets tightly as you felt your high coming.

The room was filled with the constant sound of your bodies meeting, the heat between you growing with each slap of flesh on skin. Your thoughts were taken over by the intense pleasure that was shooting through your entire body as your eyelids fluttered closed, buried in a fog of ecstasy. You vaguely heard Tommy drop the phone somewhere in the distance, but it didn't really matter. The way he grabbed you closer and pounded your hips with such merciless pace that every thrust sent shivers of pleasure through your entire body was all that mattered. Heavy intakes of breath from him, merging with your groans as he pushed you both to the edge.

"Good girl, yes, yes.. Finish on my cock."

Tommy experienced the same closeness as your cock clenched all over it. With a deep moan, he raised your right leg to his shoulders. He treated you like the most precious gemstones that thieves like him could take. Tommy groaned and praised as his head rolled back.

"D'you want me to cum inside you? Breed you? Make you mine?"

"Yes, yes! Fill me up, sir! Please!"

His back was scratched by your nails, and in a few hours, scars will definitely begin to appear. You groaned, breasts bouncing and the bed creaking with every pound.

And then, after a few more thrusts, he smashed deep inside of you until he poured all of his seed into your abused and tight walls. It was warm and filled. Tommy groaned loudly and pleased, then rested his head on the side of your neck to inhale yourself. He waited until every last drop of his cum filled you before pulling out.

As soon as he pulled out, a mixture of his and your load leaked outside your throbbing pussy. Tommy got up, grabbing a box of tissue and cleaned the both of you up.

"Who was that?" you asked.

"Just the betting shop asking for me to check on something."

"You think they.. heard me?"

"I'm sure they did and I'm glad so that they know how much I fucking please my lovely wife." he chuckled before planting another kiss to your lips.

You gladly kissed him back but the kiss deepened and the both of you know what that means.

Another round.

[kadwrites]

A man with a reputation; masterlist

- thomas shelby + arranged marriage!trope

1. a man with a reputation

; you cannot talk your way out of this, for the first time of your life , you're given no choice

2. an introduction

; you meet your husband to be for the first time

3. office scandal

; polly takes you with her to run an errand

4. the color green

; you've met tommy's secretary, who has a thing for him.

5. the shelby charm

; tommy demonstrates his charm on an unsuspecting girl.

6. entanglement

; your fate is now sealed

7. a perfect fit

; you and your family plan for the engagement party

8. desperate measures

;you finally take on the role of the tomm's bride-to-be.

9. different yet the same

;nothing stays the same, but how can you explain that to the people you love?

10. future mrs shelby

;the dreaded day arrives

11. my mother's daughter

; you and your mother get into a heated argument

12. surprise visit

; someone pays you a surprise visit

13. young love

;a person from your past makes an appearance.

14. something old, something new

;how long can you keep that secret?

15. unspoken

; some confrontations cannot be avoided.

16. romeo

;tommy shelby is an unpredictable man.

17. deja vu

;how well do we really know the people we love?

[tommyshelbysgoodgirl]

[Anonymous asked: a fluff ,gentle smut of tommy knocking at your door in the middle of the night hurt and upset,you let him come in and..feel better. ]

Make me forget about the pain❤️‍🩹

Warning: soft smut, sad Tommy, fluff, 18+, mention of death

Thomas Shelby sat in his study listening to the ticking of the clock, the noise irritated him. The gangster sighed heavily as he poured himself another drink and gazed sadly at the photo of his late wife; Grace on his desk. Tommy had lost his wife almost six months ago after she was shot, when Grace died so did Tommy. He stayed awake every night for weeks blaming himself for her tragedy. He got in the habit of taking opium and drinking more, about two months later after her death Tommy had started to seek out different whores and use sex as a coping strategy.

That’s when he met her; a sweet girl working on the street, her name was Y/N. She wasn’t like all the other prostitutes he would see, most of the girls were confident and eager. Not her though, at first, she was quite shy and nervous but as Tommy and her met up more often she got more comfortable with him.

Then Tommy was struggling when he realized how comfortable and relaxed the girl made him feel when they were together, usually Tommy would take his whores fast and rough, but with Y/N he took his time, because she made him comfortable, she helped him truly forget about his grief. When he would fuck her slowly, shoving his cock deep into her cunt she would hold him tightly and make him feel cared for, just for a moment. She would give him kisses and nuzzle him when Tommy seemed upset or stressed.

So, Tommy eventually asked her to come stay with him for a while. She was surprised at first; “You want me to come live with you, Thomas?” She asked quietly while sitting in his office. “Yes dear, just for a little bit, you’ll stay here in Arrow house and be there for all of my needs when I need you, love. You’ll have your own bed, food and a luxurious place to stay, but you’ll need to be ready when I need your help to relieve some stress, understand sweetheart?” She nodded slowly and smiled softly, “yes sir, thank you.” He smiled and walked over to caress her cheek, “darling I would never usually do this for the other girls I’ve been seeing…but with you..” He sighed softly, “You make me feel a bit more comfortable and relaxed, and that’s very rare for a cold bastard like me.” He leaned down and kissed her deeply and groaned softly.

So, about a week later Y/N was all moved in (not that she had many belongings; clothes, shoes, books and some family photos.) Tommy had the maids make up her room and he was relieved that she liked it.

Tommy gave her a few days to get comfortable in the house, then one night he finally asked her to come into his study and she gave him a blowjob quickly. Thomas would enter her room late at night and she would let him take her eagerly. Some nights he’d be quick about it, especially if he needed to get work finished up but sometimes if he was numb to a point he couldn’t think straight he would take his time while letting his guard down even for a little bit, because he didn’t want to go back into his study and be left alone with his cruel thoughts, he would draw out his orgasm as long as he could to not make that moment end.

But no matter how many times Tommy would sleep with her, there was always those times when Tommy was alone in his study as he tried to get paperwork done, but he just couldn’t. His mind kept replaying that cruel event, it was his fault after all that his beloved Grace was gone now.

Now he sat in his study, drinking glass after glass of whiskey. When he finally got up out of his chair, he stumbled as he walked out of the study and down the dark hallway. His mind was so foggy, he clenched his fists tightly and gritted his teeth as he heard that unsettling heavy breathing from the ghost of Grace that had been haunting his mind for weeks now. That damn breathing had him going insane.

When Tommy reached the bedroom door and knocked gently, It opened and his eyes traveled up and down at the nightgown Y/N was wearing. When she opened the door, rubbing her eyes tiredly, she looked up at Thomas and frowned with concern. Tommy looked so drained and tired, “are you okay, Tommy?” She asked, he just looked at her sadly and cleared his throat. “I just..uh.. I just really need you right now love… I’m not having a good night.”

Y/N hesitated and slowly reached out to grab his shaking hand, as Tommy entered the room he sat down and lit a cigarette to calm himself down. Y/N sat close beside him and stroked his thigh gently, “what’s wrong..?” She asked softly, Tommy sighed deeply as he took a long drag of his cigarette and exhaled the smoke. “I was just..having bad memories about my past and need a moment to forget about it all, you think you can help me with that darling?” She nodded slowly, “yes..yes of course Tommy I’ll help you.”

She stood up and slowly stripped off her nightgown and undergarments, but Tommy kept his emotionless gaze to his feet. Y/N felt so bad, he looked so depressed and vulnerable. She slowly approached him and reached down to cup his face and she raised his head to look up at her. “Oh Tommy.. I’m sorry you’re in such pain..” he sighed heavily as he put his cigarette out in a nearby ashtray, he rubbed his face in exhaustion. “I just miss her so fucking much, love.”

He took a shaky breath, Y/N figured he was talking about his late wife, he had mentioned her here and there before. But Y/N didn’t know how badly it was affecting him, slowly she placed her hands on his shoulders and pushed him down to her bed. Thomas looked up at her with curiosity, gently, she unbuckled his trousers and pulled his semi hard cock out. “I’ll make you feel better, it’s okay Tommy.” She was surprised to feel his legs shaking, Tommy groaned softly as she slowly started to stroke him. “Fuck..please..” he laid his head back and closed his eyes tightly when she got on top of him and aligned his hard cock with her wet core.

Tommy drew in a sharp breath as Y/N slowly sank her warm heat down on him, his hips were struggling to not thrust up into her. She placed her hands on his chest as she moved her wet pussy up and down his cock, he groaned loudly as she fucked him slowly. When Tommy went to go place his hands on her hips and guide her, she lightly smacked his hands away. Tommy furrowed his eyebrows as she bounced up and down faster, she shook her head slowly. “No Tommy..” she was breathing deeply, “you came to me and wanted my help to make you feel better so just relax and let me take care of you, okay love?” Tommy felt a wave of emotions wash over him as he threw his head back and moaned softly.

He whimpered softly as his hips thrust up causing Y/N to moan loudly. She looked down at him and frowned his eyes looked so sad and desperate, she leaned down and kissed him gently. “Shh it’s okay Tommy, just let go,” her heart sank as the tough gangster began to let out a choked out sob. Y/N cradled his face as she slowed down her movements, her wet hole moving smoothly up and down. She moaned softly when Tommy’s cock throbbed inside of her.

She continued to kiss and caress Thomas while he let out his emotions and enjoyed the sweet pleasure that he was feeling. He sobbed softly then threw his head back and groaned as her pussy clenched around him. Y/N sped up her movements, the room filling with their moans and slapping wetness of Y/N’s pussy taking him. Tommy was breathing heavily, his face was streaked with tears and he was shaking as his thighs tensed up. He quickly reached up and grabbed Y/N’s bouncing breasts when she moaned and whined he fluttered his eyes closed. Suddenly as she took him faster he grunted and groaned, his thighs tensed up, “come on Tommy let it out!” Y/N moaned, He closed his eyes tightly when her pussy tightened and his cock twitched and spurted out ropes of his hot cum inside of her. She whimpered as her orgasm washed over her, Tommy’s hips thrusted up into her as he fucked his cum into her. His whole body was shaking and he rolled his eyes back as they both finally caught their breath.

After, Y/N laid down still naked and Tommy laid on top of her. She smiled softly as he rested his head on her breast and closed his eyes still breathing deeply. “Tommy, are you feeling better?” Thomas tightened his arms around her and let out a shaky breath, “yes dear.. I know it won’t last long but for now.. I just need you to hold me.”

She slowly wrapped her arms around him and cradled his head against her chest, “thank you for this.” He nuzzled his face deeper against her warm breasts. As Y/N held him and stroked his dark hair he finally sighed as he fell asleep in her embrace.

(Hope you enjoyed if you have any more requests please ask me!🎀)

[copinghex]

Behind the curtains | T.S

Summary: You, who once dreamed of being an actress, find out Tommy wasn't supportive as you thought he was | dark!AU

A/N: In dark!Tommy we (should not) trust.

The street was bustling far too much for a Thursday evening. With the sunset near, the cold breeze brought a shiver under your delicate shawl, a gift from Tommy, the pattern gave you a soft yet elegant look, just like every clothing he provided.

Inside Small Heath's church, everything could be heard, a tiny ginger woman thanked the priest in the confessional and walked away, her heels against the wood floors echoed in the whole building. Outside, cars drove by the street and groups marched on the sidewalk.

The few remaining sun rays shone through the stained glasses, painting colored shapes on the walls. At the altar, the candles burned warm orangish on the hem of Mother Mary's veil.

Your heart stung, tears threatening to run down your face, not even the sacred place served some relief, perhaps only going back in time would, back before you ever rented a room on Watery Lane.

“Alone for once, Mrs. Shelby?” the priest asked.

“I'm never alone, father, not for long,”

“Well,” the old man smiled in pity, “would you like to confess?”

“No, I just-” few tears ran down which you quickly brushed off, “I thought I was marrying a sinner, but I guess I married the devil himself,”

“These are strong words, some sins might be worse than others, nonetheless are all sins, worthy of forgiveness for those who regret,” he reprimanded, “is it alright if I leave you alone? I promised to visit a sick child,”

You nodded and he left, it was the first time you were alone in a long while. Tapping your feet on the floor, there was nothing more to do than wait, peeking at the watch on your wrist, it wouldn't take long for you to be found.

The devil walked through the door exact twelve minutes later, you didn't even have to look, only recognize his walking pattern.

“Know the truth and the truth shall set you free,” you said.

“John, eight thirty-two,” he stood beside your bench, “this doesn't seem like a theater to me,”

Earlier that day, you told Tommy you'd watch a play for the evening, the sudden change of events led you to the local church, “I couldn't stand watching it knowing I could be on the stage,”

“It's really a shame, isn't it?”

“Oh, stop it!” you snapped, “The director told me everything! He showed me a resigning document I never signed!”

Tommy's face closed off, taking a cigarette from his pack, he sat near you, “Mr. Thompson talks too much,”

“He showed me proof, my signature in a paper I never saw! How could you do this to me?!”

“How could you do that to me?” he challenged, “I let a woman go to New York with my baby in her womb, I let her sail away for a promising life with you,”

“Oh,” you scoffed, “the woman who betrayed you?”

“She was more willing to marry me than you ever was,” the comparison and disdain in his words hurt you, “I had proposed to you, you said you needed to think, but you know what hurts the most? I knew if Thompson casted you for another play, you'd had left me without question,”

Your chest weighed in tension, Tommy never talked to you so frankly and the impact your previous insecurity had on him seemed to turn at you with full force. To you, it was simply being divided between a career and marriage. To him, it was an ultimate act of betrayal, a spurn of his love.

“Why didn't you take her then? Why not sail to New York? To a more certain future?” you hesitated.

The humiliation of the first answer to cross Tommy's mind would never leave his lips. Because he loved you. He gulped, looking at you with squinted eyes.

“You don't know what you're saying,” he drawled, “you'd be nothing without me,”

“You took away my choice! I spent months waiting to be casted, waiting for a call I'd never get and you knew it,”

“I did, I spared you from a life of supporting roles,”

“Is that what you tell yourself? To feel less guilty?”

“What about this,” Tommy offered, “this item is done, I lied and you found out, now you go to the car, we go home and I treat you right for the night,”

“You can't possibly think sex will fix this,” standing up, you walked past him heading to the door.

Pragmatic as you were, the next logical decision would be leaving him. Tommy ruined your dream, sabotaging and betraying you, he also rooted himself deep inside your heart.

As pragmatic you were, the possibility of leaving him never existed and as tears ran down your face, you walked straight to his car.

[teenwolf-theoriginals]

happy brithday, my love

pairing: tommy shelby x reader + dad!tommy

warnings: mild swearing, sex

summary: it’s that time of year again - tommy’s birthday

side note: another fic inspired by the shelby family from this fic

side note #2: other fics in the afternoon shelby chaos series: dad!tommy, mr giraffe, the boys, and her name is, evening shelby chaos

side note #3: this fic is set when flo is around five years old

"Thomas". You sang from the couch, tilting your head to the side to look at your husband engrossed in typing.

"No".

"You don't even know what I was going to say".

"I do. And the answer is still no".

"How about-".

"No".

"Even if-".

"No".

He continued typing in hopes if he remained busy you wouldn’t further the discussion. As you approached the desk, patiently waiting, watching as he struggled to focus, Tommy knew the discussion was far from over.

"Don't look at me like that, love". He uttered, knowing you were displaying a sweet smile and loving gaze that sparkled underneath all kinds of light; sunlight, moonlight, the dim glow of the fire embers or lamp light. Whenever he stared into your eyes, he knew all. What kind of mood you were in, how much love remained for him, which to this day was the same amount since he had met you. Among others, he knew when you were lying, when frustration loomed, and his favourite of all, when you yearned for him, needed him like one needed water or air to survive.

"If you won't do it for me, then do it for Flo".

With a few taps of his fingertips along the dark mahogany desk, Tommy sighed and leaned back. "Fine. But no gifts and no big party".

Sliding happily off his desk, you kissed him on the cheek. "I love you".

"I love you too". He smiled, watching you leave with no doubt an abundance of ideas swirling and disregarding his no-gift policy. Every year, Tommy would insist he needed nothing as he had everything. You and the children living inside a beautiful house, all healthy and depending on the day, mostly happy. And every year, you would agree with his request and by evening tell him it was all Flo's idea.

Hand in hand with Flo, the two of you walked down the street. The sun worked well with the light breeze. In your free hand, you carried two bags. One contained birthday supplies, nothing fancy, balloons and a few paper plates. The other held a new dress for Florence, who decided the colour theme of Tommy's party would be navy blue and silver because each colour matched Tommy's eyes.

"Alright Flo, shall we go and decide on a cake?".

Her greyish-blue eyes lit up. She brought Mr Graiffe closer, whispering in his ear and holding his mouth to her ear. "Mr Graiffe says yes, Mama".

You grabbed her hand and carefully crossed the road, making a left turn down Cherry Street. Even before the bakery door closed, Flo rushed toward the display, eyes twinkling.

"This one!" She exclaimed, pressing her finger against the glass.

You chuckled at her choosing a cake more for her than Tommy. It was round, covered in pink frosting, garnished with dollops of white cream all around, each with a strawberry gently placed on top. In the centre, "Happy Birthday" had been written in white icing.

"Flo, sweetheart, pink isn't in our theme-".

"Please!" She pleaded, using her puppy eyes that she would no doubt use again on Tommy. The elderly lady behind the counter smiled, giving a knowing look of a mother who knew how young children could be.

"Alright, we'll get the cake". You replied, nodding to the woman.

Returning home, Flo ran to Frances to share details of the cake, swearing her to secrecy so Tommy wouldn't find out. The boys overheard and shouted. "A pink cake?!"

"Shh! It's a secret".

"Dad doesn't like pink. We're men". They replied, standing tall with hands on hips.

"Mr Giraffe likes pink. He likes all colours".

"He's a toy, he doesn't count". Theo responded, quickly backtracking when Flo's eyes started to water. "No, no, I'm sorry, Flo. He counts!"

She wiped away the tear from her cheek, running to Tommy who walked through the door. He picked her up with ease, noticing her wet cheeks. "What's wrong, eh?". He gently asked. She buried her face in the crook of his neck, mumbling how Theo said something mean about Mr Graiffe.

"Theo, apologize". Tommy commanded.

"I already did! Ask Charlie". He remarked, receiving a show of support from his brother.

"Alright, off you two go then".

They walked off together, muttering it wasn't fair how Theo got in trouble. Tommy softly rubbed Florence's back, speaking once she had calmed down. "Where's Mama?".

"Upstairs". She replied, kissing Tommy's cheek and rushing off to play.

"Why are the boys upsetting Flo?". Tommy asked, almost colliding with you as he entered.

"What happened?".

"Something about Mr Graiffe being just a toy".

"Technically, he is a toy".

Tommy smiled, kissing you hello. "Don't let Flo hear you say that".

"I'm sure they didn't mean to upset her".

"Whether they meant to or not, they did. And I don't like it when Flo's upset".

"We're all aware, my love". You helped him remove his jacket, handing him a fresh white shirt to change into. "You need to be careful when it comes to playing favourites".

"I don't have favourites. Flo's the youngest and-".

"And is very much a Daddy's girl who looks at you with adoration, and has you wrapped around her finger".

"And what about Mama, eh? Is she my girl too?".

Wrapping your arms around his neck, you whispered back. "Very much so, especially when you listen and behave".

He smirked, deepening the kiss while making quick work of his hand to lift the side of your dress past your knee, his impatience evident by the way Tommy swiftly steered you toward the bed.

“Not yet, Tommy”. 

“Pre-birthday celebration, I’ll be quick”.

You chuckled, cupping his cheek to advert his attention to you. “The children are waiting. We’ll have dinner and then we’ll give presents”.

“I said no presents”.

“Flo insisted”. You sweetly smiled. “Go, I need to finish getting ready”.

After dinner, Tommy lit the fire and joined you on the chair. The children had all given their gifts, Tommy ensuring that he loved each one; Florence and her art drawing of him riding a horse. The boys and their gift of a new dark blue tie to match any of his suits. And Ava, with the help of Frances gave him a new money clip.

"And what did you get me for my birthday, eh?". Tommy softly teased.

You leaned in, dropping your voice so only he could hear. "You get me later tonight. And as I ride you, and I feel you on the edge of release, I will breathlessly whisper "Happy Birthday, my love" in your ear".

His eyes shifted to make sure the children weren't paying attention, too busy discussing which flavour - chocolate or vanilla - was better, before he ran his hand up your dress, finding out you were completely bare underneath. "You spoil me, love".

You smiled, innocently shifting in his lap. He dug his fingers into your waist to stop further movement. Smirking, you gently brushed a finger over his beautiful bulge, earning a low hiss in your ear from Tommy. 

He turned to the children, sternly instructing. "Alright, time for cake. Go with Frances to the kitchen, have a slice and then off to bed".

"Daddy, you don’t want cake? Don’t you like it". Flo quietly asked.

"I love the cake, sweetheart. And I will have a slice later".

"Promise?"

"I promise".

She smiled and wiggled her way in between Charlie and Theo as they headed to the kitchen.

"What if I wanted some cake?".

"It's my fucking birthday, you can have cake later".

Hopping off his lap, you grabbed his hand and hurried to the bedroom. Tommy swearing when the buttons on your dress wouldn't corporate with his wolfish needs.

"Let me". You pushed Tommy to sit on the bed, taking a few steps back to give him the best possible view. Slowly, you undid the four buttons, dress pooling around your feet.

Tommy drew a breath, licking his lips at the sight of you. "My favourite girl".

"Don't let Flo hear you say that".

Tommy smiled, slowly running his hand over your curves and your ass, giving it a cheeky light smack. "You are so fucking beautiful". He pulled you forward, sending goosebumps up your leg. “And your all mine”. He whispered as he left kisses over your stomach.

Removing his shirt, it fell beside your dress. The next several minutes intertwined love and dominance, lust and desire. Tommy’s hands settled on your back, breath growing unsteady as his climax neared. And true to your word, you brushed your lips over Tommy’s ear and breathlessly whispered. "Happy Birthday, my love".

He deeply groaned, spilling into you.

Laying beside him, you traced his sun tattoo to steady his breathing. Tommy closed his eyes for a brief minute, calmness settling on his flustered cheeks.

"I'm quite famished after that”. You lightly chuckled, kissing the top of his tattoo.

Grabbing white pajama bottoms, Tommy returned with a slice of vanilla cake. He cut a small piece with the fork and fed you. In turn, you did the same, making sure Tommy kept his promise to Flo. With your thumb, you wiped the excess pink frosting from the corner of his mouth.

"See, Flo picked out a good cake after all".

"The cake tastes much better when I lick it off you". He smirked, dabbing some cream on his finger and swiping it across your lip. Tommy kissed you until he was satisfied, leaving the plate on the side table.

“There’s still a few hours left of your Birthday, how do you want to spend them?”. You asked, running your hand over his chest.

Pulling you onto his lap, Tommy brushed away your hair, bringing his lips to your shoulder and following the path to your lips. “With you. Always with you”.

[wonderlanddreamer]

Protective!Tommy x Reader POV

Summary: When Tommy Shelby discovers bruises on your skin, a fierce protectiveness awakens within him, leading him to a vow that no one will ever harm you again.

The Garrison is quieter than usual tonight. The air hums with the low murmur of distant conversations, but here, in the private back room, it's just you and Tommy Shelby. The dim light casts a warm glow over the dark wooden walls, creating an intimate cocoon around you both.

Tommy leans back in his chair, a cigarette balanced between his fingers, his piercing blue eyes fixed on you. You've always enjoyed the game of flirtation with him—the way his lips curl into a smirk at your playful teasing, the glint of amusement in his gaze. Tonight is no different.

"Tell me, love," he says, his voice smooth and low, "what brings you to the Garrison tonight? Hoping to find some trouble?"

You laugh softly, leaning forward so your fingers brush against his on the table. "Maybe I am trouble, Tommy. Ever think of that?"

He chuckles, a deep, rumbling sound that sends a thrill down your spine. "Oh, I have no doubt about that."

The banter continues, a rhythmic dance of words that neither of you wants to end. Tommy's eyes never leave yours, the intensity of his gaze making your heart race. Each word he utters is laced with a subtle challenge, an invitation to dive deeper into this playful repartee.

"Do you always come here looking for trouble, or is tonight special?" he asks, his voice a low, seductive drawl that sends shivers down your spine.

You tilt your head, a playful smile curving your lips. "Maybe I just like the company. You never know who you might run into at the Garrison."

His lips twitch into a smirk, his eyes glinting with amusement. "And what makes you think you'll find anything worth your time here?"

You lean forward, your fingers brushing against his on the table, the contact sending a spark of electricity through you. "Oh, I think I've already found something worth my time."

Tommy's eyes darken, a flicker of something more intense passing through them. He takes a drag from his cigarette, exhaling the smoke slowly, deliberately. "Is that so? And what might that be?"

You shrug nonchalantly, though your heart is pounding in your chest. "Maybe it's the company. Maybe it's the thrill of the unknown. Or maybe," you pause, letting your words hang in the air, "it's the challenge."

He chuckles, a deep, throaty sound that vibrates through the quiet room. "A challenge, eh? You think you can handle it?"

You meet his gaze head-on, refusing to back down. "I think I'm up for it. Question is, are you?"

Tommy leans back in his chair, his eyes never leaving yours. "Oh, I can handle anything that comes my way."

It's just a bit of fun, you tell yourself. Nothing serious. After all, Tommy Shelby is a man with a sharp mind and a sharper edge, a man who navigates the dangerous world of the Peaky Blinders with a ruthless efficiency. You are just a fleeting distraction in his complicated world, a momentary amusement in a life filled with dark dealings and deadly decisions.

But even as you remind yourself of this, you can't deny the thrill of the game, the way your heart races at his every word, the way his eyes seem to see right through you, stripping away your defenses. There's something intoxicating about the way he looks at you, as if he's daring you to step closer, to see how far you're willing to go.

"Careful, Tommy," you say, your voice dropping to a whisper. "You might find that I'm more than you bargained for."

He smiles, a slow, predatory grin that sends a shiver down your spine. "I sincerely hope so, love."

The air between you crackles with tension, the room seeming to shrink around you until there's nothing left but the two of you, locked in this dangerous dance. You know it's just a game, a bit of harmless flirting, but the intensity of his gaze, the way his words wrap around you like a velvet glove, makes you wonder if there's more to it than that.

Tommy Shelby is a man accustomed to getting what he wants, and right now, it's clear that he wants you. The realization sends a thrill through you, a heady mix of excitement and apprehension. You're playing with fire, and you know it, but you can't bring yourself to pull away.

With a deliberate slowness, Tommy reaches out, his fingers brushing against your cheek, sending a jolt of electricity through you. "You're a brave one," he murmurs, his voice a low rumble that makes your pulse quicken. "But bravery can be a dangerous thing."

You lean into his touch, your breath hitching in your throat. "And danger can be intoxicating."

His eyes darken, his grip on your cheek tightening slightly. "You have no idea."

In that moment, you know that this is more than just a game. It's a test, a challenge, a dangerous dance that neither of you wants to end. And as you lean in closer, your lips brushing against his, you realize that you're willing to risk it all for the thrill of the unknown, for the chance to see where this dangerous path might lead.

But as the night wears on and the drinks flow, the distance between you closes. Tommy's hand finds its way to your knee, his touch warm through the fabric of your dress. You don't pull away. Instead, you lean into him, letting the heady mix of alcohol and desire guide your actions.

"Tommy," you whisper, your lips dangerously close to his ear, "what would you do if I asked you to take me home?"

His eyes darken, and for a moment, you think you see something more than amusement in their depths. But then he smiles, a slow, predatory grin, and you know he's still playing the game.

"Depends on what you want when we get there," he replies, his voice a husky murmur.

Without waiting for a response, he stands, pulling you to your feet with a firm but gentle grip. You follow him, your pulse quickening as he leads you out of the back room and through the emptying pub. The cool night air hits your face as you step outside, a welcome relief from the heat building inside you.

You don't make it far. In the shadowed alley beside the Garrison, Tommy turns to you, his hands sliding up your arms to your shoulders. He bends down, brushing his lips against yours in a kiss that starts soft but quickly intensifies.

Your hands find their way to his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath the fabric of his shirt. The kiss deepens, and you lose yourself in the taste and scent of him, the world narrowing to just the two of you.

As his hands travel lower, they move with a deliberate slowness, each touch sending waves of anticipation coursing through your body. His fingertips slip beneath the delicate strap of your dress, the fabric yielding easily to his gentle push. The strap slides over your shoulder, baring more of your skin to the cool air and his heated gaze. You shiver at the contrast, a tremor that runs from the exposed skin straight to your core.

But then, unexpectedly, you feel him freeze. His movement halts so abruptly that it sends a jarring note through the intimate atmosphere. He pulls back slightly, his eyes zeroing in on the newly revealed skin with an intensity that makes your heart clench.

"What's this?" he asks, his voice dropping to a low, dangerous murmur that sends a chill down your spine.

You follow his gaze, your eyes landing on the bruises that mar your shoulder and upper arm. The purplish marks are stark against your skin, a glaring reminder of the violence you had endured. You had hoped to keep them hidden, to let them fade away without anyone knowing. But now, under Tommy's scrutinizing eyes, the secret is laid bare.

His fingers hover just above the bruised skin, not touching, as if he's afraid his touch might make it worse. The earlier warmth in his eyes has been replaced by a cold, steely fury that makes you instinctively pull back, though you stop yourself from moving too far.

"Who did this to you?" he demands, his tone edged with a barely controlled rage. His eyes snap back up to meet yours, and you can see the storm brewing within them, a tempest of anger and protectiveness that takes your breath away.

You swallow hard, the words sticking in your throat. "It's nothing, Tommy. Just... a misunderstanding."

His jaw clenches, the muscle ticking with barely restrained anger. "A misunderstanding doesn't leave marks like this. Tell me who did this."

You take a deep breath, your heart pounding. The bruises are a painful reminder of a confrontation with a man who took advantage of your trust. You had hoped to forget, to let the marks fade along with the memory, but now, under Tommy's protective gaze, you feel a strange sense of relief in sharing the burden.

"His name is Robert," you confess quietly. "He thought he could take what he wanted because no one would stop him."

Tommy's grip tightens momentarily before he forces himself to relax. He takes a step back, his eyes still locked onto yours, conveying a silent vow of retribution.

"Robert," he repeats, committing the name to memory with a grim determination. "That bastard'll regret ever laying a finger on you."

You reach out, your fingers trembling as they brush against his cheek, trying to calm the storm of rage you see blazing in his eyes. "Tommy, please," you plead softly. "I don't want more violence. I just want to move on."

He catches your hand in his, his grip firm yet tender. His thumb sweeps over your skin with surprising gentleness, but his eyes are hard, unyielding. "Moving on doesn't mean letting that bastard walk free," he growls, the ferocity in his voice unmistakable. "He needs to understand that no one hurts you and gets away with it. Not in my world."

You nod, knowing there's no point in arguing. Once Tommy Shelby sets his mind on something, he sees it through. But still, you worry about the darkness that seems to follow him, the ever-present threat of violence that shadows his every step.

"Just promise me you'll be careful," you say softly. "I don't want you getting hurt because of me."

Tommy's eyes soften, the molten fury within them giving way to a gentler, more tender light. He leans in closer, his breath warm against your skin, and presses a delicate kiss to your forehead. The gesture is a stark contrast to the raw intensity of his earlier words, a promise of protection wrapped in tenderness.

"I'm always careful," he murmurs against your skin, his lips lingering for a moment longer before pulling back. His hand comes up to cradle the side of your face, his thumb gently tracing the curve of your cheek. "But understand this," he continues, his voice steady and resolute, "I won't stand by and do nothing while someone dares to hurt you. Not ever."

A shiver runs through you, a mix of fear and gratitude. You never expected to find yourself in this situation, never thought that the man you flirted with for fun would become your fiercest protector. But here you are, wrapped in his arms, feeling a strange sense of peace despite the turmoil.

"Let's get you home," Tommy says, his voice gentle. "You need rest, and I need to make a few calls."

You nod, the weight of the evening's revelations pressing heavily upon you, and allow Tommy to guide you through the quiet, dimly lit streets. The cobblestones underfoot seem to echo the unspoken words that hang in the air between you, each step a silent promise of protection and retribution. The night is still, the usual hustle of Birmingham muted, as if the city itself is holding its breath.

The journey to your place is wrapped in a tense silence, the only sounds being the distant murmur of the night and the occasional rustle of leaves in the cool breeze. Yet, the silence is anything but empty; it thrums with the unvoiced thoughts and emotions that swirl around you both. You can feel the unyielding resolve emanating from Tommy, a palpable force that seems to cut through the night air.

When you finally reach your door, the familiar sight of your home brings a fleeting sense of relief. But before you can fully process it, Tommy turns to you, his expression grave and determined. The streetlamp casts a soft glow over his features, highlighting the intensity in his eyes.

"I'll handle this," he says firmly, his voice a steady anchor in the sea of uncertainty. The words are simple, yet they carry the weight of an unbreakable vow. "You don't need to worry about him anymore."

His gaze locks onto yours, and you can see the fierce protectiveness in his eyes, a promise that sends a shiver down your spine. He is not just offering to deal with Robert; he is assuring you that your safety is now his priority.

"Thank you, Tommy," you whisper, your voice thick with sincerity and gratitude. The simple words seem inadequate to convey the depth of what you feel, but they are all you have in this moment.

His hand reaches out, brushing a loose strand of hair from your face, the touch both comforting and grounding. "Get some rest," he says softly, his voice a stark contrast to the earlier ferocity. "I'll take care of everything."

As you step inside and close the door behind you, the reality of the situation begins to settle in. The fear and uncertainty that had gripped you earlier now feel distant, replaced by a fragile sense of hope. You know that with Tommy Shelby on your side, the darkness that had threatened to engulf you is now faced with an unyielding force.

-x-

[your-nanas-house]

Smut with Thomas Shelby! Big, HEATED argument over Tommy's jealousy when she starts dating some other mate. They were friends for many years too.

If possible, face slapping and some violent, really hot smut 🔥

First time writing something like this. Wonderful idea, hope you will like it. ��

"Someone like me"

◇ Pairing: Thomas Shelby x fem!Reader

◇ Warnings: smut, anger, violence, slapping, rough, kissing, friends to lovers

◇ Summary: Y/n's date, Jackson, doesn't want to see her again and she knows that her friend, Tommy, is involved in that decision.

◇ Note: Sorry for the mistakes and the English. I used a Brummie translator for when Tommy speaks in the fic.

Soft tears threatened to spill from her eyes as she was clenching her fist while waiting for her friend, Tommy Shelby, to enter into his office— her back towards the wooden door.

She didn't had to wait long since Thomas bursted into his office, throwing open the door, causing Y/n to jump as he threw his hat on a nearby desk, his eyes wild like his hair— that sight made her nearly forget for a moment that she was angry as well with him and that she was there for a purpose.

Tommy's eyes burn with anger and he didn't even look at her after he entered. He just put his hands on his desk and leaned over, breathing heavily to calm himself down— Y/n didn't know what caused his friend to be so angry at that moment but she didn't care, for the very first time, she didn't care about what he was going through.

"What the fuck did you do, Thomas?" The young woman asked with hate in her voice— she never used this tone with Tommy during all their years of friendship, so it was just normal for the man to get a bit surprised and take a couple of seconds go reply, his face a mask with hidden emotions.

He spinned around and the force his eyes bored into hers made her breathing nearly stop, not that she wasn't afraid of him but seeing Thomas Shelby's anger directed towards her took her by surprise for a moment

"Cor blimey, settle yerself down, kid!" He growled, his icy eyes staring into hers.

"Excuse me?!" Y/n replied quickly, frowing at the audacity of her friend who stayed quiet as his glare grew sharper. She clearly felt a slight chill run down her spine as she looked into his eyes but she didn't backed away, she wanted answers from him.

So after gulping softly, Y/n spoke again with the same anger tone

"I asked what you did," she repeated in a hiss. "What did you say to Jackson?!".

Tommy's stare became darker as soon as Y/n pronuncer her date's name. His grip on the desk grew tighter, causing the wood to splinter slightly before he spoke again with the same anger as hers

"Wot makes yer think I've said something to Jackson, eh?"

"Because Polly told me you went to him! And he came to me today to tell me that he wanted to take a break, Thomas!" Y/n quickly replied, pushing his chest as hard as she could "What did you tell him?!" she repeated again.

Thomas stepped closer, as soon as her hand touched his chest, stopping until he was in front of your face, his eyes narrowed and deadly

"Do yer think every single decision this man makes revolves around your precious little self? Did it ever occur to you that maybe, just maybe— He doesn't want to be in a relationship with you?" he whispered in a low angry tone, his eyes scanning her face when her eyes narrowed and filled with tears due to the harsh words he just said

"He wanted to fuckin bed me the night before and now he doesn't even want to see me!" She nearly growled, revealing this particular that Tommy didn't know yet "I know you did something, Thomas Shelby".

By hearing her the anger in his eyes grew even more

"Yeah, sure, keep thinking it's all my fault, because you're just perfect and everyone wants you" his face was getting closer ans closer to hers and he was speaking so quietly she could barely hear him.

Her hands collided with his chest again as she pushed him for the second time that evening "Fuck you" she spat with anger.

Tommy stumbled a bit, clenching his teeth as his hands closed in fists. He took a few breaths and stepped closer to her again, now a clear fire in his eyes which matched hers; he didn't talk this time, letting her stare back with anger

"Fuckin hate you, Thomas" Y/n pushed him again, screaming the statement, gasping softly when he grabbed her arms and tightened his grip on them, holding her still

"Don't you ever push me again, yer hear??" He warned her, narrowing his eyes when she spoke again almost like if she was challenging him "Or what?! 'M not fuckin afraid of you, Shelby!" She spat in pure anger as she held back a whimper when she felt Tommy's grip around her arms tighten.

He pulled her as close as possible before speaking again, in a low whisper "Let me tell you something, I can do anything with you and there is nothing you can do about it, Y/n" he revealed, staring in her eyes not expecting the harsh slap that she gave him as a reply at his statement.

Tommy tightened and moved his grip around her wrists, as he pressed her against the nearest wall, holding her arms still over her head with one hand as he grabbed her chin with his other "Is that how you plan on behaving?" He asked in a mocking tone, holding her still as she started to fight him screaming in anger "Fucking hate you! WHAT DID YOU TELL JACKSON?!"

The name of the other man made Tommy's blood boil again

"Why do you care so much about Jackson?" he whispered so lowly, yet he still gripped her face tight

"You really want to know what I told him?" He asked his nose nearly touching hers.

Tommy remained silent for a moment, speaking just when she nodded replying him with a rude 'yes'

"I told Jackson he deserves someone much better than you" he started, his voice sounding even more painful in Y/n's ears "Lies—"

"It's not a lie, I know better than anyone that you're spoiled and reckless" he gripped her cheeks tighter "That's why you don't deserve someone good and kind like him but—" he paused to lean in as he spoke again "You do deserve someone tough and cruel..." he continued, his breath caressing her lips.

Y/n stopped slowly fighting him, her tearful eyes, looking at his face in pure confusion "What?" She whispered softly

He matched her whisper, making sure that it was so low only her could hear

"The kind of man—" he pushed her more against the wall, pausing another time, his breath heavy just like hers, his grip on your cheeks still tightly "— who will pin you down and show you your place".

The young woman's breath quickened as she heard his affirmation, her eyes scanning his face, not really knowing where to stare at, her mouth slightly open in disbelief.

His lips were now pressing hard her throat, his voice still only a whisper

"You deserve—"

A single tear run down her cheek as his hand left her cheek and went down her neck, lower to her waist; he moved one hand to the back of her head and pressed, another time, his lips against the skin of her throat, inhaling her scent before pulling her body closer to him with his other hand

"Someone like me" he finished the sentence, pressing his lips roughly against Y/n's.

She kissed back, slightly taken aback from the turning of the situation— she was clearly surprised but she could feel her blood boil inside of her as the anger crawled slowly back under her skin.

They foreheads were pressed together as soon as the kiss ended, Tommy was the first to speak in a breathless whisper, his lips still inches away from her

"I've been waiting for so long to get closer to you" As he spoke his lips moved closer to hers again, ready to steal another kiss

"Yeah?" She whispered, hiding her anger by brushing her lips against his slightly open ones, Tommy nodded chasing her lips

"I've been wanting you for months, but you were with Jackson" he grabbed her waist and pull her flat against his chest causing her anger to finally escape her small body (again).

"And you didn't think that maybe you could have told me earlier?!— Since I've been dating Jackson for two weeks, eh? You didn't thought to let me know your fuckin feelings instead of ruining things between me and another man, Thomas?!" Y/n pushed him harshly on the armchair, making him fall down in a sitting position, allowing her to tower over him.

Tommy didn't show a shred of emotion on his body as he spoke, his legs wide open to allow her to move closer

"Yeah, I wanted to but—" his breath hitches as Y/n pressed her knee against his clothed crotch "What if you didn't feel the same way, eh?...Plus, now you're available" he added, a teasing smirk appearing on his handsome face.

Y/n's anger didn't bother him at all, he found it almost funny now and definitely hot— so when she slapped his face another time, this time a bit harder than before he simply let his face follow the direction of her pretty hand not even flinching slightly as his cheek turned a soft red.

"Good, let it out. Let all your frustration out of you" Tommy smirked softly, a clear and low aroused tone in his voice.

He earned another slap before Y/n connected their lips in a hungry kiss after whispering harshly to shut the fuck up.

His lips met hers, he kisses her back with passion and lust as his hand gently grabbed her head, making her fall down on him and then on the cold floor.

His other hand stayed on her waist as he pull her closer, his legs wrapped around hers just like his arms were around her smaller body, nearly crushing her in the process.

The young woman hugged Tommy's neck, connecting their lips in a passionate rough kiss to distract him and switch the rolls by moving on top of him before harshly pressing him against the wall as soon as he got up.

Tommy gasped as her body pressed onto him, a low animalistic growl leaving his body "Don't you dare" he murmured against her cheek as his arms tighten around her, one hand moved to her back down to her ass while his lips went down to her neck.

With a fast swing, Tommy managed to pin her against the wall again, making her head hit the wooden surface not enough to hurt her but enough to take her by surprise.

Their lips crushed together again in a hungry kiss as they fought to remove all the layers that kept their bodies hidden.

A piece after another all the clothes found themselves on the floor just like Y/n who was on her kneels, her hair trapped in Thomas's grip which moved her almost like a puppet.

His thick erect cock slapped her cheek as Tommy moved it teasingly near her mouth a couple of time before finally trusting his whole lenght in it, making her gag not expecting the sudden action.

Y/n quickly tried to relax her throat as Tommy fucked her face with a quick pace, his groans filling the room till she noticed his lower abdomen tensing and his pace changing slightly.

She quickly slapped his pale thigh, freeing herself from his grip to push him down on the floor with her, her hands moved quickly on his chest to hold him down as she started fingering herself— ignoring completely the hungry gaze of her friend.

Tommy tried to move his hand to his cock but Y/n quickly slapped it away, letting him replace her own fingers with his as she grabbed his rock-hard cock to pump it a couple of time and collect the precum from his angry red tip— just to put it in her mouth as a little taste.

Not even a couple of minutes later Y/n slapped Tommy's hand away, pressing her soaked and warm pussy against his throbbing painful cock— mixing their juices together as she grinded roughly on him.

Her hands wandered on his chest, reaching his neck to choke him softly with one hand to let him slip inside of her impatient hole.

Tommy let her take control for a while, watching her with half closed eyes how she rode his cock before moving his chest up, making her be the one with her back on the floor— his rough hand grabbed her legs and moved them on his shoulders to allow him to reach a deeper angle as he now drilled inside of her.

Moans and silent screams kept leaving Y/n's mouth as Thomas started to torture her clit as well while hitting her cervix to make her come

"Yer fockin' like that, eh?" he growled in her ear as he kept breathing heavily, nibbling at her skin like an hungry animal

"'M gonna fockin' mark— yer little— cunt" Tommy added making Y/n scream his name as she climaxed, squirting for the very first time— allowing Tommy to increase his pace and thrusts deeper for the last time when he shoot his load inside of her pussy, filling her like he wanted before letting his body fall on top of hers, his face burried in her breasts as they catched their breaths.

"Love yer" Tommy murmured in almost a whisper, smiling slightly when Y/n replied a couples of seconds later "love you too, Tommy".

Taglist:

@gabile18 , @mrsfullbuster500 , @rex-ray , @elizamalfoyy, @eovjjj , @wife-of-magic-monkeys , @jeremiah-va1eska , @gothamchic16, @rabbiteggz , @dieg0brandos-wife , @rottenecstasy , @lazyexcuse , @teh-vampire-bunny , @lobotomy-lover , @slasher-smasher , @sleepycreativewriter , @mrkdvidal1989

[zablife]

Now You Know the Truth (Part 2)

Tommy x wife reader

Summary: Tommy's harsh words push his wife to the breaking point, but when she attempts to leave they are forced into another difficult conversation. (Dark AU)

Author's Note: Several readers wanted a second part so I've indulged them (and myself) here with more angst and heartbreak. In other words, Tommy is going to feel some pain now.

Warnings: language, pregnancy, mention of abortion, possessiveness, injury, mention of blood

Part 1

Frances stood in the doorway of your bedroom, hands clasped nervously in front of her waist as she watched you toss your wedding rings aside. “I need a bag. I’m leaving Mr. Shelby,” you informed her.

“Are you certain?” Frances asked hesitantly.

“Yes,” you replied emphatically.

“Yes, ma’am,” she answered, rushing to the wardrobe. The packing didn’t take long with her help and before dinner had ended downstairs, you were calling for a servant to carry your belongings to the car. 

“Mr. Shelby is coming up, ma’am,” Frances warned you.

“Let him come,” you said numbly, mentally preparing for another of his tirades.

When you stepped into the hallway with your bag, Tommy charged toward you, feet thundering along the floorboards with such force the picture frames shook. “Where the fuck do you think you’re going?” he demanded angrily.

“Does it matter?” you answered with calm resolve. 

“Yes, as a matter of fact it does. When were you going to tell me?” he asked, blue eyes darkening with an impending storm of fury.

You looked down at your shoes and inhaled a sharp breath. So Ada had told him about the baby. Pinching the bridge of your nose, you tried to breathe normally. “I don't know,” you answered honestly, voice barely above a whisper. Tommy furrowed his brow at you, but remained silent.

Despite your efforts, tears welled in your eyes as you reminded him of his words earlier that evening. “Thought you wished you'd never made an honest woman out of me," you said with trembling voice. "So go on and tell me what you’d have said before you did.” A tear slipped down your cheek as you sniffed, "Tell me to take care of it.”

“Stop it!” Tommy ordered, but the command fell flat as he swallowed harshly at your words. “You know this changes things," he argued. Though his jaw clenched tightly with determination, his eyes held an unmistakable glimmer of pain.

“Does it?” you asked bitterly, wiping at your cheeks. “You can’t stand to look at me, Tommy and you won’t listen to a word I say. What makes you think we could raise a child together?” you asked rhetorically. As he stood in silence, you pushed past him toward the stairs.

Tommy chased after you, capturing your arm in a tight grasp, his willfulness returning. “I won’t allow it, Y/n. You marry a Shelby, you stay fucking married!” he warned.

“Or what? You’ll have me killed?” you challenged as you spun around to face him. “At least I’d be away from you,” you spat.

Tommy narrowed his eyes at you, feeling the sting of your words. “Even if you die, you die mine. You understand? You’re mine,” he said, shaking your arm fiercely.

You backed away and your heel wobbled under the pressure, leaving you dangerously unstable on the edge of the first step. Only you hadn’t realized as you gave Tommy’s chest a harsh shove, falling backward down the flight of narrow steps toward the polished floor below. Your battered body came to rest with a thud at the bottom of the staircase, arm outstretched toward Tommy as your vision faded to inky blackness.

The house was eerily still for a moment, not a sound to be heard until Tommy's hurried footsteps thudded against the stairs. He raced toward you, falling to his knees beside your lifeless body. Placing a hand under your neck, your head rolled toward him, a trickle of blood running from the corner of your mouth. "Oh, God, no!" he gulped, pulling your body into his lap.

As a maid came bustling around the corner, she screamed at the sight before her, bringing a hand to her mouth when Tommy glared up at her. "Call a fucking ambulance!" he shouted. As she rushed to the nearest telephone, Tommy rocked you in his arms, smoothing your hair from your ashen face as he kissed your forehead gently. "What have I done?" he cried.

Part 3

-----------------

Tag list:

@peakyswritings

@evita-shelby

@shelbydelrey

@alanadetigy

@wandawiccan60   

@severewobblerlightdragon

@lovemissyhoneybee

@theshelbyslimited

@kittycatcait219

@callsign-fangirl

@notyour-valentine

@theshelbyclan

@areyenotfondofmelobster

@polishcrazyone

@elenavampire21

@little-diable

@tommydoesntpayforsuits

@look-at-the-soul

@dandelionprints

@kpopgirlbtssvt

@watercolorskyy

@cillmequick

@l1-l4

@moonshooter

@mrs-bellingham

@the-fangirl-diaries

@allie131313

@peakyscillian

@runnning-outof-time

@there-goes-thefighter

@babayaga67

@floraroselaughter

@kmhappybunny240

@babaohhhriley

@noforkingclue

@murderousginger

@gypsy-girl-08

@dearshelby

[strayrockette]

ahh, thank you so much 💕

A Daughter’s Letter

A/N: It's been a hot minute since I was last active...But I think I'm back?

Huge thank you and appreciation to @runnning-outof-time for never giving up on me even when I was radio silent.

here's a breadcome of a story I baked out while basking in the fall-like weather I've been experiencing. Something about the crisp wind and the warm sun makes me want to write sad and angsty stories.

Let me know what you all think. like, reblog, and comment. Give me all the goodies. Did I break your heart, just a little? Did you tear up?

Dearest Father,

I have daydreamed countless times of what I wanted to say. Unfortunately or fortunately for you, there are far too many words, phrases, paragraphs, essays, and monologues for me to fit onto this letter.

I suppose I should start off first by saying, you failed me. And though I wish it weren’t true…the truth of it sitting heavily in my heart hurts too much for me to deny. Your memory haunts me. It leaves a bad taste at the back of my mouth, like acid. Perhaps this is a harsh judgment from a scorned daughter. You have left me, abandoned me to the world. To grow alone. To learn alone. You’ve given me nothing but pain and insecurities. Your legacy is not one of generational wealth or love. But of heartache and wonder.

I wonder, are you even alive? Do you remember me? Know that I exist? Do you think I’m dead? Alive? Living? Happy?…

Words filled her mouth, eagerly awaiting the freedom of relief of being heard. Each one was biting and vicious like a madman with a knife. Aimlessly swiping into the air all in vain and with all the hope it would pierce through flesh, if only to make it clear the kind of pain that held her at choking point every minute of the day. Her pain swallowed itself. Receding back into its slumbering cage, where it would once again wait for the moment it could be free.

For now, she would deal with another kind of pain. Equally as excruciating but not as invisible. The best kind of pain, she thought bitterly.

Her forearm ached violently as she poured alcohol onto the wound. She should have known better than to approach a panicked soldier. A wounded one at that. His leg had been shredded to bits and the blood loss had him delirous. Adrenalin was the only thing that had kept him awake and panicked as he was. Y/N gave a quick glance at the white sheet thrown over the cot to her left and fought the urge to burst into tears. Nothing, I could've done. Not my fault. Her mind repeated this mantra. She didn't believe it but maybe one day it would stick.

She carefully threaded her skin back together with the little supplies she had on her person. Medical supplies were dwindling and guilt wrapped around her stomach for using it on herself.

"More incoming!" A voice shouted in the distance. Her heart sunk ever so deeply as she inhaled a breath and steeled herself. Forgetting her measly work on herself, she tied a ripped sheet over her arm, already knowing it would loosen, but knowing that there were others who needed her more.

Her feet pounded into the muddy ground, the grey skies and the panicked cries mixed with the scent of ash and blood branded her.

The number of men piling up into the church and tents was ever-growing. Always growing.

She hated to ask, but did out of necessity "How many and how bad is it?"

"4 unconscious, 3 missing limbs, 4 with burn marks" A girl, no taller and older than her stated. Face caked in mud and blood. Y/N chose to ignore the tears in the girl's eyes, Marge, she corrected herself. A new volunteer who was just as clueless and naive as every other girl who came in her place.

"4 for 4 in the church, the 3 with go to tents 5 and 6" Y/N ordered. She went to help the others relocate the soldiers to their respective spots. "Your hurt" Marge could barely take her eyes off the sight of her slit forearm. the wound ugly and jarring and barely pierced together. A tiny string hopelessly holding the reddened skin together.

"I'll be fine, dove. We've got work to do" Y/N nodded to the stretchers making their way past them.

"You're no help if you can barely lift anything with your left arm" Catherine, an older and more experienced nurse stated exasperatedly. "Get out of my sight, before you hurt someone and yourself."

She shooed her away with a comment about how soldiers needed us nurses to be in tip-top shape in order to be of use. It quelled the guilt inside her for only a moment. Y/N sighed and made her way to the quietest part of the church/make-shift hospital. Away from the screaming and cries. The only place in this hell hole where soldiers didn't leave, lifeless.

Her footsteps echoed as she made her way to a chair near the back of the room. A soldier lay sleeping. He'd come in a day ago with a broken leg and fractured hands. His fingernails were bloody and almost falling off. He'd climbed out from the ground they said. Or tried too. The crew of men who'd dug him and his fellow comrades out were amazed at their survival. To survive being buried under dirt while a war raged on above was more than a miracle. A God-given blessing. Or so they said. Y/N believed it to be pure luck and an insane amount of will.

She nestled herself into her spot, brought a tray closer to her, and laid her arm a top of the table stand next to her. She fished a needle from her pocket careful not to prick her fingers and began the work of stitching herself together. She worked quietly, teeth pulling at her lips, tongue choking back the whimpers.

"You're hurting yourself," A deep voice timbered.

Her brows furrowed eyes never leaving the steady needle making its rounds into her skin, "If you know a way to make this hurt less, I'm all ears, soldier."

"Ay," He rumbled, "Just let it out."

She scoffed and almost laughed. Let it out? She closed the last stitch and broke her gaze, ready to tell him off for offering such helpful advice but stopped.

His face was littered with cuts, and it was the first time she'd ever managed to really get a good look. His eyes were so blue she wondered if he'd taken the beauty of the skies and held it for himself. "You've done well, keeping us lads in one piece," his mouth pursed and he sighed, "We won't think less of yah for crying in pain."

"Right, lads?" He called out, so sure of himself. A chorus of agreement rang throughout the room.

For the first time since offering her services to the war, she cried.

Dearest Father,

I met a man. And he's given me far more valuable advice than you ever did..... I hate you.

Sincerely,

Your aching daughter.

----

Taglist:

@mysticalpandora @ultimatreality @lovecleastrange @watercolorskyy @rockerchick05 @lyarr24

Can't remember who else wanted to be a part of the tag list. If you'd like to be on it please let me know!

[mushies-stories]

Will you?

Thomas Selby X Reader

gothic women and tommy shelby? yes.

Y/N works in a morgue and sells body parts to the boys for... reasons. (If you've ever watched soa you'd know) and tommy falls in love and has decided it's time to ask the big question :D

warnings: It's kind of proofread as always, long straight hair because Morticia Adams is inspo juuuust a little. female reader.

word count:1035

Thomas Shelby had been with many different women. Blonds, brunettes, some nice and kind and others more vocal and intimidating. But for the most part they had all been normal so to say. They worked jobs normally for women or wanted a housewife life. Wore just enough makeup with the right dress and jews to match. From what Tommy had come to understand, that was just how women were, that was until he met Y/N.

She was someone no man or person would miss if she walked down any street. Hair straight as a pin and long down her back. Shades of black surrounded her eyes. Lips often painted a dark red. No one had ever seen her wear a single color, all of her clothing is black and flows somewhere at least a little. 

The pair met when Tommy needed body parts to deal with some business, they ended up at a small town morgue. Walking in and half expecting to be met with a weird eyed old man, All three brothers were happily surprised to be met with a beautiful young woman. After some awkward exchanges and half ass explanations they finally just threw down a bunch of money and waited for your answer. 

After that first deal, with how good that pay was, why say no? You began to see the brothers more often, not always all together though. It wasn't too long that Tommy found himself just wanting to see you, but knowing he can't just come up with a reason to need a limb or an eye he decided to just man up and ask you to dinner.

That was just the first of many before you were officially together and Tommy was realizing that you meant everything to him. You knew darkness and you knew what he does, you help him even. You weren't afraid of the dead. He loved the darkness, that's how he described you. He found your love for all things dark and scary, creepy even, romantic. He knew if he came home with blood on his shirt you wouldn't scare you. You had concern yes, but as long as the blood isn't his, that meant he was okay and that all you cared about.

This is why Thomas Shelby has decided it was time, time to ask you to be his wife, fill his home with dark spiky flowers, cut the heads off roses in the garden. Fill the place with your energy that seems to always calm him down. He knew it was time to ask. He had never felt so drawn and attached to another person. He needed you. 

Tommy took you to New York for the new year. Having business to deal with but also not wanting to be away from you for too long he figured this would be an opportune time. Staying a few weeks meant he had plenty of time to spend celebrating with you. 

Snow covered the ground and the buildings and kids were heading inside. You and Tommy were in a horse drawn sleigh heading home from dinner. Tommy had his arm slung over your shoulder, holding you to him while a blanket of furr sat across your laps. 

Smiling softly, you looked around as the snow fell softly around you in big flakes. Something about the cold snow and dead silence of the nights and the eerie feeling of the dark snow covered streets. Y/N loved it. Now, Tommy thought. You were almost to the hotel, and had been talking most of the ride already.  

Tommy admired you as you stared around them. “Would you like it if I bought one?” He offered with a small tease. Turning your attention to him, you give him a questioning look. “One of these, a sleigh?” he clarifies. 

“oh! “ You exclaimed. Thinking about it for a moment, finger tapping your chin lightly. “I think that would be lovely.” you say softly with a smile. “No more automobiles, we can take the sleigh out!” you declared. 

“Well love, I don’t think a sleigh will work out of winter.” Tommy chuckled softly. 

You let out a sigh and agree.“Yes dear I suppose you are correct.” you lean into him more, resting your head on his shoulder. 

With his other hand, Tommy reaches into his jacket pocket and pulls out a small black velvet box, holding the box out in front of you he clears his throat.“Y/N, I have something I want to ask, eh?”

You look from the box to him with wide eyes, having to tilt your head.“Tommy?”

“Will you marry me, be my wife?” he asks softly, opening the box. Your attention was stolen by a gold banded ring decorated in black onyx sitting in gray silk. Three bigger gems sat in the middle, surrounded by smaller staggered ones on the sides. 

Softly you nodded your head. ”yes.” you said almost in a whisper. 

“Yes? You'll marry me then eh?” He confirms with a growing smile. 

Looking him in the eyes and nodding faster you had tears pricking the corner of your eyes. “Oh Tommy, look what you’ve done.” you whine with a smile as a tear rolls down your cheek, taking a small drag of black shadow down with it. “You’ve gone and made my makeup run.” you sniffle softly. 

Kissing the side of your head softly, Tommy smooths some of your hair down that was now getting frizzy from the slow. “Sorry love.” he says softly, holding you tighter to him. “Here take the glove off, let me put it on.” he says while taking the ring from its case.

Wiping a tear away you took off both your gloves, you wouldn't be putting them back on anyways. With your hand ready Tommy slipped the ring into your finger and it fit perfectly. “Tommy It's perfect, I love it.” you smile and kiss his jaw. “And I love you, Thomas Shelby.” 

The rest of the ride was spent kissing and admiring the ring, the rest of the night was spent making love and plans for the future. You will soon be a Shelby and somehow that didn't scare you a bit.

[evita-shelby]

National Anthem

Chapter 9

Cw: use of ethnic slurs, casual anti-romani racism, anglophobia, cheating, fertility issues, offscreen suicide, cuckolding/old timey version of using a sperm doner , and drama.

Taglist: @thegreatdragonfruta @zablife @call-sign-shark

June 1922

They go out to town, to some investors party standing for her company and his investment firm. Dressed to kill and walking in here like the sun orbited around them.

None of these English twats could hold a candle to them.

Paris had been fun, surrounded by eccentric rich fucks and exiles who Eva personally knew. Then when she came face to face with the girl who tried to kill her when they were sixteen, the witch proved she was as terrible as him.

The Witch smiled viciously as she settled on her next prey as they came face to face with Grace and the gangster Grace compared him too.

What’s her face had not died, but looked ready to croak once Evie was done with her. Jack cannot wait to see how she destroys the ungrateful broad who’d made moves on him while Eva tried her best to shove her onto Carrie’s group of sycophants despite Caroline hating her too.

“Dear me, does your husband know you’re back to your old habits, Mrs. Macmillan?” Eva wastes no time in embarrassing the married woman on the arm of a man who was not boring old Clive.

“You sounded taller in her stories of you, Mr. Shelby.” Jack looks down on the gypsy on the arm of the blonde who’d spent a year trying to snap up any blue blood that came near her.

He had known her type the moment he saw her, bored rich girl who only wants a man once he’s got enough cash to afford her.

Having been so curious about the man Grace sent letters too even after she married, they’d dug up everything you needed to know about Shelby and his family.

Thomas Shelby had taken longer than Jack to get where he was, but Tommy didn’t have the benefit of a man willing to teach him his tricks like a father would. But now that Shelby Brothers Limited was rising to the level of wealth Grace thinks she deserves, Tomm Shelby was being romanced in that cool way of hers.

The kind that makes you believe you are doing everything, and she is naturally coming to love you. Just like she did with Clive and this fool with her.

“Thomas, these are Mr. and Mrs. Jack Nelson. Friends of mine from New York.” She says pretending she’s not prey caught in the quarry.

“Friends of her husband.” He corrects letting him know how little they cared for the blonde who’s smiles tightly with eyes betraying the embarrassment she feels. “My wife and I were relieved when she handed in her resignation. She was my secretary at my Wall Street Office before my Evie caught on to her tricks, did she tell you that?”

If Eva’s game, they could destroy this relationship to make this boring party worth getting dressed for.

“Never heard of you, I admit, Mr. Nelson.” The shorter man admitted. He kept a cool head; one he’d gained from surviving France and everything that made people like them rise out from the muck they were born in.

Grace was a trophy, a ticket to the society that hates them, just like Eva had been. The only difference is that Jack can trust and love Eva to her bones and Tommy only loves the surface he sees because he thinks he can ignore the smell of the rot underneath the shiny surface as long as he does.

He knows all that because deep down he and this miserable fool are the same. Only difference Jack knows to vet his women before sticking it in them.

“Not surprised, Gracie here has a habit of keeping too many of them. Did you know their doctor suggested the MacMillan's find a man to make the baby and she agreed to it?” They had dinner with them a few days ago, Jack had learned that from Clive when they went out on the balcony to smoke.

Grace’s move is to deny everything, but Shelby is smart enough to see through it.

“Pray the boy takes after her, the MacMillans really hate Romani people, especially anyone related to Arthur Shelby. Your father relieved them of two hundred thousand dollars, or was it three hundred, Jack?” the witch continues grinding the blonde underneath her heel and leaving the best part unsaid, she’d seen her death.

A month after marrying the man of her dreams, she will die. A curse placed on her by Tommy Shelby’s own auntie to keep lovely Grace Burgess away from her family.

“Tell Clive we’re still on for brunch at our place before the Derby.” Jack said with a shark-like smirk and a condescending pat on Shelby’s shoulder. “Use a rubber, Shelby, the last thing you want is to get gipped.”

Her marriage to Jack has given new life to her mean streak.

Eva had struggled not being a bit mean or petty ever since she learned what fun it was to be an asshole to people she dislikes or tries any shit with her.

Grace was pretty prey, a little blonde mouse she and Jack toy with and discard for no other reason than just disliking her.

It was just something in her aura, this sense of entitlement, this innocence she claims when the people she hurts do not count as people to her, and now thinking she can have her cake and eat it too.

“We saw your darling Grace at the party last night, did she tell you?” Eva wastes no time in ruining the morning.

“Can’t be, she was at her aunt’s place for supper.” Clive answers thinking surely Eva is making a mean joke. She’s never been subtle in her dislike of her, warned him about the man she sent letters to behind his back when he went through with the wedding.

“Clive, I was hoping to do this somewhere private, but---” Jack dropped his napkin and gave her a look for making them do this now.

He wanted to preserve some of Clive’s dignity, but Eva craved chaos and destruction and seeing the woman who the universe predestined she loathe no matter what be publicly humiliated.

Maybe it was because she tried to seduce Jack away from her because she didn’t see Eva as her equal for being Mexican. Yes, it must be that, Eva hates bigots and bootlickers and Gracie was everything she loathed in a person wrapped in pretty designer clothes.

“Tell me they’re lying, that you haven’t been with that tinker you send letters to, tell me, Grace, tell me you aren’t the whore my mother thinks you are?!” Clive doesn’t shout and yet his voice is shaking and angry enough to carry throughout the café.

“Clive, I---” the blonde cannot lie, not when Tommy Shelby’s bastard grows in her womb.

She was pregnant, about five or six weeks. Got pregnant from the many times she went to the house of the woman whose husband she had imprisoned for being a Jew and a communist.

Six weeks ago, when the doctor’s fertility treatments for her began. She had wanted a child, just not with Clive. She wanted the love of the man she had in 1919, not Clive.

Tommy Shelby hadn’t wanted to continue this affair; she’d heard of May Carleton. May who trains his horse and was sweet on according to other guests she made them speak to.

It had been fun to see her learn that Shelby wasn’t hers anymore.

And now Eva was a giddy as child knowing Grace would never set foot near her ever again. Even better that when she dies in 1924, she will die knowing those who wrong Eva Nelson never live happily ever after.

“I’m sorry, Clive, I love him and I’m having his baby.” Grace admits the truth for once in her miserable life and all hell breaks loose.

Clive is found dead with Grace’s gun in his hand.

“Did you have to do that, I told you Clive was a weak man.” Jack asks as they meet the woman who cursed Grace Shelby and reveal the sordid affair her nephew’s been having with her.

Fine woman, just murdered her rapist and now enjoys her victory the way it deserves.

“She was going to tell him and make him kill himself anyways, I assumed she’d have her gun in her handbag like any sensible woman would.” Eva answered as she enjoyed the bubbly champagne, courtesy of Polly Gray.

Grace may have not shot Clive MacMillan in this timeline, but her killing him is something that will always happen. Just like her being shot a month or so after her wedding and just like Tommy Shelby destroying everything and everyone around him because he refused to let go of the Dulcinea he created in his head in 1919.

A shame it must go this way, but it has to. Don Quixote only regained his sanity once the fantasy brought him to his death.

A/N:Canon!Jack is racist full stop, here its more of a facade he puts on to keep his reputation of asshole you don't want to fuck with and mainly doing it to get ubder Tommy’s skin hence the heavy use of slurs

[aneurinallday]

The Grey Man

Chapter 5: Time

For the remainder of the day and the entirety of the night, Holford slept or at least pretended to sleep. Resting, recovering his strength, and biding his time. He was in pain, but by now he’d ascertained that there was no serious injury - no broken bones, just surface damage to his face which would heal by itself, given time. It looked ugly, but it could’ve been much worse.

Occasionally Tommy would enter and speak to him, but Holford wouldn’t respond in any meaningful manner, feigning a complete mental and physical exhaustion - making the road to recovery look longer than it actually was. Sometimes, when his eyes were closed, he would feel a warm hand touching his forehead and neck, checking his temperature and pulse. He was surprised that such a gentle touch could belong to Thomas Shelby.

By the next morning, the doctor’s face was awash with dark bruises - a mottled patchwork of purple. His left eye was blacked and almost swollen shut, and the split in his lower lip had painfully scabbed over. He winced and groaned as he sat up, his limbs stiff and ribs sore.

As if on cue, Tommy entered.

“Finally awake?” he said as he drew back the curtains. Sunlight streamed into the wagon and revealed the severity of Holford’s bruises. If Tommy was taken aback, his face betrayed nothing. “Alright, let’s take a look at you.”

He grasped Holford’s face and turned it towards the light, examining his burgeoning contusions and bleeding lip. Red bruises had already formed. At first, he gripped Holford’s jaw firmly, as if anticipating that he would try to squirm away. But when the doctor offered no resistance, Tommy’s touch softened. He cupped Holford’s cheek gently.

“Anything feel broken?”

“I don’t…think so.”

“Not this?” With a forefinger, Tommy lightly tapped on the bridge of Holford’s nose.

“No.”

“Good.” Tommy let go.

Holford looked up at him. His green eyes were plaintive.

“Will he come back?” he asked.

“My brother? No. He’s not coming back”

“Why did you protect me from him?”

“Because he was killing you.”

“But aren’t you going to kill me?”

“I haven’t decided yet.”

“When will you decide?”

“Enough questions,” said Tommy.

He pulled out his water flask and made Holford drink. The doctor gulped gratefully, trying to wash away the coppery taste of his own blood lingering in his mouth. He wondered if this was an apology. Maybe Tommy felt some level of remorse over how he’d handled things, and this was his way of atoning for it. Or maybe water was just water, and there was no meaning behind it.

Tommy waited patiently until he was finished drinking, then put the empty flask away. A droplet or two of moisture clung to Holford’s dry, chapped lips. Holford swayed. Tommy grasped his shoulder to keep him steady. As if without thinking, Holford turned his head and placed a gentle kiss on the hand where it rested.

“Thank you,” he whispered. But then he grasped Tommy’s hand and kissed it again, more forcefully. Tommy was caught off-guard by the gesture, unsure if it meant affection or pure supplication. “Please,” said Holford, dispelling any illusion that it was an affectionate gesture. “Let me go. You don’t want me dead, I know you don’t.”

“Oh, I don’t?”

“No. You saved me. You saved me from your brother, from death. That must have meant something. If you wanted me dead, you would’ve let him finish his work.”

Tommy jerked his hand away.

“I stopped him for his own sake, not yours. I didn’t want him to have more blood on his conscience.”

“Please. You can still take me home, Tommy. Or you don’t even have to take me - just drop me off somewhere. I’ll walk, I’ll find my own way back. I know that somewhere inside, you feel something for me, some bond. I’m not a stranger whose life means nothing to you - I’m your doctor, I looked after you for three years. Three years you came to my office, I came to your house, I saw your children grow. I saw you grieve your daughter’s passing.”

“Don’t mention my daughter. And don’t fucking call me ‘Tommy’.”

Holford’s hands dithered in the air in front of him, as if he were resisting the urge to clasp them in prayer.

“Listen, all I want is to go home. I don’t care what I have to do - tell me what you want me to do.”

“I don’t want anything from you.”

Without warning, Holford slid onto his knees on the rug-covered floor of the wagon. Kneeling at Tommy’s feet, just as he had back in the courtyard.

“What the fuck are you doing?” Tommy snapped. “Get up.”

“There has to be something.” Holford tried to smile at him, but it was a pained smile. A desperate smile. “We can work it out together.”

Whether intentionally or not, the implication of fellatio hung in the air between them. Tommy didn’t want to believe that Holford would resort to making such an offer, but at the same time, he knew the doctor was too clever to plant the idea by accident.

“I’ve had enough of this," Tommy muttered.

“Please. Just let me go. I just want to go home.”

But Tommy left, and from that moment on, refused to speak further.

A week passed in the same silent limbo. Tommy brought him water and food every day - crackers, tinned sardines, corned beef - but no longer entertained his attempts to start a conversation, ignoring all of his efforts to bond. Instead of lingering in the wagon to watch Holford drink his tea, he now spent all of his time outside by the fire.

Holford had over-played his hand, and crossed a line in the process. The opportunity to make Tommy lower his guard had passed, and now Tommy’s walls were higher than ever.

The silence was unbearable for Holford; every hour of aimless waiting was agony. There was nowhere for him to go - nothing for him to do but sleep, re-read his one book over and over, and think about escape. He watched in the mirror as the swelling subsided and his bruises turned from a dark bluish-purple to a sickly greenish-yellow.

When he stared at his reflection, he despised everything he saw. He was starting to smell and he hated it. He’d never gone more than a day without a hot bath, and he yearned to sink naked into steaming hot water. He felt an ache of homesickness as he remembered his own bathroom - the cool tiles, the fragrance of soap, the green wallpaper with its familiar pattern of palm trees and exotic animals. Far removed from the claustrophobic darkness of this Gypsy caravan.

“Calm,” he often whispered to himself. “Be calm. Impatience won’t serve you.”

One morning he awoke with an overwhelming sense of urgency. It was the twelfth day of his captivity - he knew that much. Twelve days and still no rescue had come. The more time passed, the more his hope of rescue diminished, and the more his desperation grew. Time was running out. He couldn’t just sit around and wait for Tommy to kill him. If he was going to act, he had to act now.

Unbeknownst to him, Tommy was also suffering from the silence. He was fed up with the doctor’s pleading and grovelling, his clever and treacherous tongue; even the sound of his soft voice had become grating as he tried to weasel his way out of justice. Tommy hated him. But at the same time, he felt increasingly guilty for prolonging his misery, for denying him the basic comfort of conversation.

Every day, he could see the doctor’s spirit sinking lower and lower, his hopes growing weaker and weaker, his pale face becoming more stark. Tommy had thought that he would find satisfaction in watching Holford’s deterioration, but instead it left a bitter taste in his mouth. He felt certain that the doctor deserved to suffer, but he was no longer what degree of suffering was justified. How far was too far? How long was too long?

Desperate for a respite, Tommy walked briskly to the nearby stream for a much-needed bath. He swam in the cold water, listened to the reeds and the insects. For a while, he simply lay in the grass, drying himself in the sun, feeling the warmth and air on his face. Trying to forget about Doctor Holford, and the dilemma of what to do with him - a dilemma which grew more urgent with every passing day.

If Thomas Shelby had learned anything in recent years, it was that he couldn’t run from the consequences of his actions. That had never felt truer than now, as he struggled to decide whether his prisoner should live or die - something which he’d never thought would require a second thought, but which now seemed an impossible impasse. The longer he kept Holford alive, the more pitiable Holford became in his eyes, and the harder it became to stomach killing him. No matter the awful things he’d done, he was still a person who was suffering, and Tommy was the direct cause of that suffering.

“I should’ve got it over with,” Tommy muttered.

Back in the courtyard, he’d had his moment to pull the trigger, but he’d missed his chance. Now, pulling it wouldn’t be an act of vengeance, but of cruelty.

“Fuck.”

Rising heavily to his feet, he sighed, put his clothes back on, and trudged back to the wagon. Back to Holford and his ever-present aura of death.

As he approached, he heard Holford dry-heaving inside. Great. What now? He entered to find Holford lying on the bunk, propped up on one elbow, his head hanging over the edge. He was groaning with discomfort.

“What’s the matter?” Tommy demanded.

“I don’t - I don’t feel - ” Holford was taking deep breaths to quell his nausea. His fingers curled in the blanket, drawing it closer for comfort.

“Tell me the matter.”

“It - it hurts. Here.” With a shaking hand, Holford indicated his stomach, hidden behind his white shirt. “It’s s-swollen up. I think he tore s-something.”

Shit, Tommy thought. The last thing he needed was for Holford to have internal bleeding. He would have no choice but to either take him to a hospital or watch him slowly die, unable to help. For fuck’s sake, Arthur.

It occurred to him that Holford might be faking it - he’d shown no sign of severe pain until now - but Tommy knew that a damaged spleen didn’t always rupture immediately. It could take hours, days, or even weeks for the injured tissue to finally split. Holford’s claim was plausible.

The doctor retched again.

“Alright, let me take a look. Sit up. Come on, sit up.”

Tommy helped him upright. As he did so, he saw that Holford had dropped his book on the floor, where it was in danger of being trodden underfoot. Instinctively, he bent down to pick it up.

Without warning, a solid blow landed on the side of his skull. Holford had struck him with a hard object. As Tommy stumbled to the side, he glimpsed something - a noose, a ligament - flash through the air as it descended over its head. He didn’t have time to take a breath before it jerked tight around his neck, and he was tackled to the floorboards with Holford’s full weight on top of him, the cap falling from his head.

The struggle was violent but short. Both of Tommy’s hands went instantly to his neck, trying to squeeze his fingertips in between the cord and his throat. He recognised it as one of the tasselled cords that held back the curtains. He twisted his body around, elbows slamming into Holford’s ribs and stomach, trying to dislodge him. Trying to suck in air. But Holford was stronger than expected, and had taken him by surprise. Holford retaliated clumsily, his inexperienced fist thumping against Tommy’s head and shoulders.

Wrestling with the curtain-cord, Tommy was able to gain a little space around his windpipe, and managed to snatch a half-breath. But it wasn’t enough. He was losing control - his body had begun to move of its own accord, limbs jerking, lungs straining for oxygen. Keeping his left hand on the cord, he reached with his right hand for the pistol holstered under his coat, but couldn’t reach it.

Holford strangled him inexorably. Black and white spots were exploding across his vision, darkness creeping in at the edges. And then - and then…

Chapter 6: Gone