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mischievouslittlecreature · 2 days ago

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Part 26: Do You Love Me

Summary: Tommy and Lucy meet a man dangerous enough to frighten them both, and Lizzie reaches a breaking point.

Word Count: 6,543

Warnings: Smut, polyamory, chronic pain, references to violence, past torture, and past sexual assault.

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Chapter 2: Selfish

“Lizzie is going to be mad about that for a good long while,” Lucy commented, one hand stuffed into her trousers pocket while the other flicked ash from her cigarette down onto the cobblestones. Her eyes swiveled around, taking in the ash, flames, and glowing embers being emitted into the air by the nearby factories. All around them was the bustle of men and women going about their business, children with dirtied faces and knees marked up with scrapes and soot racing through the streets together. She dropped a few shillings into the cup of a young girl who wandered past them.

The train station that they were headed to wasn’t particularly far, and it was good for the people to see Tommy out amongst them, walking to work and taking the train like any other ordinary working man. So when they could, they made the trek to the train on foot.

She didn’t mind. It was nice to get out into the familiar smoky air, settled like a black cloud over most of Birmingham. Despite everything, it still felt like it was where she most belonged. In the dirt and flames of hell.

Though it did mean that they had to keep a professional distance from each other. No hand holding or letting their sides brush and bump. They couldn’t risk looking suspiciously close. Not even in Tommy’s own kingdom of Small Heath.

“Yeah,” Tommy sighed heavily. “But what else is fucking new?”

She cast him a regretful look. “I’m sorry.”

“What? Why? You didn’t even do anything.”

“It always feels like I’m the root cause of most of her anger towards you.”

“No; you’re not.” She felt him casting her a worried look. “It’s not your fault.”

She didn’t tell him that she didn’t believe that. It would only upset him. And he didn’t need to be worrying about her feelings on top of everything else already on his plate.

“She’s mad because you tell me things that you don’t tell her.”

“Which isn’t fucking new. That’s always how things have been. If she’s only realizing that now…”

“I think she’s more upset about it being thrown in her face than anything else.”

He shook his head, teeth grinding together. “I’m going to cuff Finn the next time I see him. Jesus Christ.”

“Arthur’s right about him needing educating. The kid can’t keep his mouth shut to save his life.” As she spoke, she rolled her right shoulder back and forth, trying to ease the twinge that had settled in it. Tommy huffed.

“Yeah. I’ll put him in charge of running the football betting at the shop. Give him something productive to do.”

“Have Isiah keep an eye on him. They’re friends, and he’ll make sure he doesn’t do anything too stupid.”

Tommy nodded. They caught the train just before it left the station, slipping into an empty compartment and closing the door, drawing down the blind that covered the window on the door, hiding them from any curious eyes that may have tried to peek in from the narrow hallway.

“May called earlier. She said that she was at a party that a couple other MPs were attending recently. One of them was asking about you,” Lucy settled into her seat, the train whistling shrilly before starting to move, steadily picking up speed as it pulled out from the station.

“Oh?”

“Oswald Mosley. He’s the MP for Smethwick. Also the Minister of the Duchy of Lancaster,” she fiddled with her rings, twisting them anxiously around her fingers. “May had…a lot of bad things to say about him.” Another throb of pain rocketed from the bottom of her shoulder blades up to the base of her neck, and she had to fight back a flinch. Fucking Luca. Dead and long gone, and yet still haunting her through the aches and pains that the torture he had put through had left.

Just like Matthew, her former fiancé and the man who instigated the gang rape that left her nearly dead and fleeing to Small Heath to escape marrying him. He too lingered with her still–despite his deceased status–through the scars he and his friends had left all over her body.

I’m part of you forever, now, his and Luca’s voices, mingled into one, whispered inside her head where they now lived.

“Lucy?” Tommy’s voice pulled her from her thoughts, his hand lightly touching her arm. She jumped a little, jerking back to life, eyes wide when they met his. “You alright?”

“Y-yeah. Sorry. Just thinking. What did you say?”

His eyes narrowed a fraction, and she was pretty sure that he sensed the slight waver in her voice that she attempted to cover up. But he must have decided not to comment on it if he did.

“What does Mosley want with me?” He instead repeated patiently.

“He didn’t exactly say. But May said that he was asking an awful lot about your moral standings on things. She thought that he might’ve been trying to feel out if you would be amiable to joining the new party he’s rumored to be building.”

“The fascists, you mean?”

“Yeah.” They had been sprouting up everywhere it seemed, lately. Germany. Italy. Even in England. It was spooky. “I could do some more research into him, if you think that it would be worth it.”

Tommy considered for a moment, blue eyes glancing out the window to observe the countryside they were whizzing by. “Yes, you do that. He’s gathering information about me, it would only be fair to return the favor.”

She nodded, a hand unconsciously going up to grasp at her still aching shoulder, trying to rub away some of the pain. But she never could seem to get the right angle…

“Are your shoulders bothering you?”

She looked up to find Tommy still watching her, observant eyes zoned in on where her fingers were subtly kneading. With a sigh, she dropped her hand, rolling the aching bone and muscle back and forth with a wince. There was no use trying to lie to him.

“A little.”

His head cocked, pushing up with his hands off the seat he was slumped in across from her to instead settle in the space next to her. “Here.”

“Tommy…!” she immediately started to protest, eyes going panickedly to the blinds covering the window of the door leading into their compartment.

“Don’t worry. No one will see with the blinds closed. And we’re just passing country right now,” he nodded towards the window, which sure enough was only displaying green fields and farmland. “Let me help. If you don’t do anything for them, they’ll be killing you by this evening.”

Spoken from true experience. He’d seen her when the pain got really bad, leaving her unable to sleep or do anything other than cry and writhe, as if trying to get away from the pains wracking through nearly her entire upper back.

Slumping in defeat, she nodded, turning to angle herself with her back facing him. His large hands found her shoulders, so big they nearly swallowed the entire expanse of each one in his palms–or maybe she was just that tiny. A small sigh of relief left her lips when he began rubbing gentle but firm circles into her skin, just like how the doctor had instructed him to when explaining ways to help reduce her pain. Slowly, he started to urge the tensed up muscles to relax enough to give her some relief.

“Did you not do your stretches yesterday?” he asked. Lucy shook her head.

“Forgot.”

She was supposed to do them everyday, to avoid things like this happening so frequently. But in all the chaos yesterday, they’d completely slipped her mind. And sleeping on the hard earth with nothing but Tommy to use as a pillow probably hadn’t helped things.

“Hm. Sorry; I should’ve reminded you.”

“Not your fault.”

He pressed his fingers a little harder into her skin. “How’s that feeling?”

“Better.”

He hummed, pressing a kiss to her temple. “Just try to relax.”

“Pot meet kettle.”

“You want me to stop?”

“...No.”

He chuckled, the first real laugh she’d heard from him since before yesterday, and rested his cheek against her hair while his hands continued to work. Lucy allowed herself to melt a little under his touch, for a moment not worrying about them getting caught together, or about Lizzie, or Michael, or the company. She was able to just rest. Even if only for a moment. All the while Tommy gently rubbed the pain from her body.

∗ ∗ ∗

She so did love to watch Tommy speak in the house.

He stood there, amidst the smoke emitting from cigarettes and pipes, glasses perched on his nose, notes held in his hand, his voice ringing out, deep and rumbling. Pretty, eloquent words. He had them all in the palm of his hand and he knew it, the men seated in the benches around him, and those in the observation area with her all clinging to his every word. And when he was finished, those on his side of the room cheered and rapped their hands approvingly against the wood of their benches, the entire room thundering with the sound.

Lucy couldn’t help but think that the room looked like a theater.

Who were they performing for? Themselves? Each other? The people in the observation booths? All of them at once? It was hard to say.

She spotted him seated to Tommy’s right–her left. In the row below Tommy’s, the third man in from the aisle. His dark hair was slicked back, the mustache that decorated his upper lip meticulously groomed. One side of his lips pulled up at something Tommy said, his eyes gleaming. Lucy felt a shiver go down her spine. Humor may have been what was intended to cross his face, but those eyes of his were dead. No emotion to be found in them at all. They remained focused straight ahead as Tommy spoke, except for one specific, notable moment, when they flickered towards the observational benches where she, along with some secretaries, journalists, and other observers, sat to watch the men speak. Lucy swore that for a second their eyes met, before she hastily looked away from him and back to Tommy. Her skin crawled, the fine, fair hairs on the back of her arms standing up straight. Her very insides seemed to recoil, every instinct within her screaming to get up and run as far away from that man as she could possibly get.

She kept her eyes glued firmly at Tommy for the reminder of the time spent in the house, despite originally going there specifically to observe Mosley.

She felt that she’d gotten all the information that she needed to about what kind of person he was from just that quick glance alone.

Soon as they were done, she stood, gathering up her notes, tucking them securely in the crook of her arm and making for the exit where she would meet Tommy out in the hall.

“How did I do?” he asked, once he found her standing at the usual spot where she always waited for him. Lucy caught herself wishing desperately that she could have pressed a kiss to his cheek.

“Splendid as always, love.”

He looked away, lips twitching up slightly, clearing his throat bashfully. “Come on.”

Lucy smiled a little to herself at the reaction, falling into step beside him, heading in the direction of their office.

“Did you get what you needed?” he asked, as they walked.

“Sort of.”

His brow raised. “Sort of?” he quoted back to her.

“I don’t like looking at him,” she explained in a lowered voice. “He makes my skin crawl.”

“Mm.” Tommy hummed in agreement.

“Lord Suckerby’s secretary said you’re welcome to come by anytime between now and the end of the day to see him,” she told him just as they were interrupted by a voice calling his name from one of the open doors they passed.

They stopped, turned, and were met face to face with Oswald Mosley, a barbed smile sliding into place across his features as those empty eyes bored into Tommy. Lucy’s skin roiled in response to his posh, clipped voice when he spoke, introducing himself and holding out a hand for Tommy to shake. His sly smile never once ceased, eyes never leaving Tommy’s as he took his hand and shook it firmly.

“Let me just say, you’ve come to my attention,” the words were spoken in a croon, with the smallest of head tilts. Lucy couldn’t fully decide if the intended effect was supposed to be predatory, or seductive.

Before Tommy could reply. Mosley’s eyes had snapped, sharp and quick, like a snake striking, to fix on Lucy. She had to fight back the urge to hide behind her lover’s back. The expression on Mosley’s face turned wolfish.

“Well, aren’t you a pretty little thing?” She felt Tommy tense beside her at Mosley’s words. “Oswald Mosley,” he extended his hand towards her. Lucy felt ill at the thought of touching him, but forced herself to reach out and take his hand. It was cold as ice and dry as a bone.

“Lucy Winters,” she introduced herself, shaking Mosley’s hand once before letting it go, pushing away the urge to wipe her palm on her trousers. “I’m Mr. Shelby’s assistant.”

Mosley’s eyes darted between them, one eyebrow quirking upwards, a smirk settling on his lips. “Hm. Lucky you, Mr. Shelby.”

“If you’ll excuse us, Mr. Mosley, we have to get going.”

“Yes, yes, of course. But if you aren’t too busy, I would love the opportunity to speak with you more. Perhaps over drinks?”

Tommy considered. “You can call my office,” was all he ultimately said, hastily turning on his heel and starting down the hall again. Lucy hurried after him, not wanting to be left alone with Mosley.

“You’re really going to meet with him?” she asked, once they were far enough away to be out of ear shot.

“Just to hear what he has to say.” He looked over at her. “Don’t worry, I’m not sympathetic to his cause. But keep your enemies closer, eh?”

“Yeah.” She looked over her shoulder, half expecting Mosley to appear spontaneously behind them. “He scares me a little, Tommy.” Her voice was a rough whisper, half ashamed at the omission.

“Me too.”

That got her attention, and when she looked at Tommy, she noticed something almost unsteady under the guarded armor he kept carefully in place across his eyes. Fear squeezed at her throat.

A man who was bad enough to make Tommy so frightened was something she hadn’t even thought existed.

“You head on back to the office,” he said, changing the subject with a small clearing of his throat. “I think I’ll go see Lord Suckerby now.”

“You don’t want me to come with you?” He shook his head. “I think it’ll make a stronger impression if I go see him alone.”

“You think he’ll give you any trouble?”

“Maybe. Depends on how hard he was hit by the crash.”

She frowned. She hadn’t really thought about that. Though she probably should have. “Everyone was hit by the crash.”

“Yeah.”

“If Suckerby can’t pay us…”

“He will. I’m not giving him any other choice.”

She pressed her lips together in a small smile. “I’d like first crack at him, if it comes to it.”

Tommy shot her an amused look. “Oh, is that so?”

“After seeing those photos that he wanted us to get for him, there are a couple of things I’d very much like to do to him.”

During the train ride to London she had flipped through the small package of photographs, letters, and cheques that Isiah had handed off to her while they were in Birmingham. Everything he and Aberama had collected from the man they killed in Chinatown who had been using the contents of that package to blackmail Suckerby. Her stomach had roiled at the contents of some of them, bile rising.

Lord Suckerby was one disgusting man. Maybe after he paid them, an unfortunate accident could befall him. Like falling out a window or getting run over by a bus.

Based on the thunderous, repulsed look that had crossed Tommy’s features when she showed him the photographs, Lucy thought he may very well be open to the idea. The envelope was now stashed safely in the inner pocket of her suit jacket, snug against her side. It would remain there until Suckerby paid what he owed them for their services.

“Alright,” Tommy said, eyes still dancing with fond, quiet mirth. “He doesn’t corporate, he’s all yours.”

She beamed, only just managing to restrain herself from throwing her arms around his neck, stretching up on toes, and planting a firm kiss to his temple that would have left his fair skin stained with red smudges from her lipstick. “Thank you, Tommy,” she said instead, adding what she hoped came across as a playful, affectionate lilt to her voice. He glanced over at her, one edge of his lips nudging upwards, eyes softening.

They came to a hallway splitting off into two separate directions. This was where they parted ways. Her, turning left to head to their office, him, heading right, towards where Lord Suckerby’s offices were located.

“I’ll see you soon?”

He nodded. “This won’t take long.”

“I’ll phone his office when I get in and let them know you’re coming. So they’ll be expecting you.”

“Right.”

“And then you have a few more meetings this afternoon.”

“Mm.” He lowered his voice. “I thought that we’d stay at the apartment for the night, rather than go back to Arrow House.”

“That probably would be a good idea. It’d give Lizzie some time to cool down.”

“Exactly.”

She nodded, moving to head in the direction leading to their office. “Good luck.”

“Thanks.”

She walked backwards a few paces, fondly watching his broad back disappear around the corner before turning and making her way the rest of the short walk back to the little corner of Parliament that they presided over.

∗ ∗ ∗

She had not been back in the office long when Tommy returned, heavy footed steps booming against the floor and swiping his fringe from his eyes.

“How did it go?” Lucy asked, looking up from her desk.

“By the time I left the room, he was screaming my name,” he thumbed a cigarette from his silver case. Lucy raised an eyebrow.

“Is that a euphemism?”

Tommy snorted, plucking out a second cigarette to hand to her. “He only had twenty thousand to give to us.”

“Really?” That wasn’t even half of the fifty thousand pounds they’d agreed upon. She placed her cigarette between her lips and leaned forward towards the flame of his lighter when he held it up for her. “Does that mean I get to play with him now?”

Tommy chuckled, raising the lighter to his own cigarette before closing it with a click. “Easy, girl. I gave him until Monday to get us the full amount.”

She pouted a little, leaning back into her chair. “You’re going soft, Shelby.”

“No,” Tommy’s eyes danced amusedly. He reached out, brushing his thumb down her cheek. It was a risky move, since anyone could walk through the door at any moment, but she didn’t pull her face away from the tender touch. “I just want my fifty thousand pounds.”

“Mm. Whatever you say, love.”

His thumb inched into dangerous territory, ghosting over her bottom lip. She aimed a playful nip at it, and he drew his hand back with a grin.

“Cheeky mare.”

Lucy smiled at him, batting her eyelashes innocently in an ‘I’m-very-sure-I-don’t-know-what-you-mean’ kind of way. Though remnants of his smile lingered on his face and his eyes remained softened fondly, Tommy’s expression turned serious again.

“Hey, make that research into Mosley top priority, yeah? I wanna be ready when I next see him.”

“Yes, boss.” She gave him a little two finger salute. The corner of his lips kicked up again.

“Thank you.”

She watched him head through the double doors into his office, leaving them open behind him, a silent invitation for her to come keep him company if she wanted. Gathering up some of her papers, she rose from her chair to follow him.

It was, after all, an invitation that she never passed up.

∗ ∗ ∗

It was dark by the time they started to pack up to leave for the day. Tommy had one final appointment, but Lucy figured she would get a head start on closing the office up while he spoke with the journalist from the London Times. She eyed Michael Levitt as Adam–Tommy’s other secretary at Westminster–led him into Tommy’s office, noting the nervous way that the journalist kept fidgeting with his hat while he waited. A moment later, Adam came back out, casting an anxious look over his shoulder to where Levitt had taken a seat in front of Tommy’s desk.

“Mr. Shelby said I was to go home,” he came over to her desk, keeping his voice lowered. She nodded.

“Then go home. I’ll take care of locking everything up.”

“Right.”

She watched him gather up his things and head for the door, one ear focused on trying to overhear the mumbled voices of Tommy and Levitt. “See you tomorrow,” she told Adam.

“Goodnight,” he nodded. Soon as he was gone, she stood smoothly, snatching up the little journal perched on the corner of her desk and going to Tommy’s office. He had left the doors open, so she was able to slip in without so much as a sound, footsteps muffled against the rugs lining the floor.

Levitt was visibly sweating, stuttering over his words. Lucy raised an eyebrow, going to where Tommy’s coat was hung up to his right behind his desk. She slipped the journal into the pocket, giving it a tap twice, watching out of the corner of her eye how Tommy’s gaze followed her. He gave a barely indiscernible nod in acknowledgement, and she spun on her heel and left the room, letting her eyes meet the timid Levitt’s for a second before turning her head away.

She flitted around her and Adam’s office, putting things away and locking them up for safe keeping, even doing some tidying. The whole time, she listened closely to the words being murmured between Tommy and the journalist. At one point, not long before Levitt rushed from the room, she heard Tommy quoting directly from some of the notes she had written in the little journal during her time spent researching Levitt and his activities.

Soon as he was gone, she locked the door behind him and went back to Tommy’s office.

“I take it that could have gone better?” she moved to stand on his side of the desk, arms folded over her chest and back leaning against the hard wooden edge. Her head cocked as she watched him rub at his eyes.

“He was asking about Campbell and Polly.”

“I heard. You want him to be taken care of?”

Tommy wetted his lips, considering. “Yes,” he decided. “Last thing we need is a reporter sniffing around.”

“Yeah. He doesn’t seem like the type that we could just pay off. I’ll have some of our boys handle it at his apartment in Maida Vale. Quick and clean.”

“Have them do it with enough flourish that it’ll make other journalists nervous. To dissuade anyone else from trying anything for a while.”

“But not easily linked to us, right?”

“Right. And let’s just keep it between you and me. Last thing I need is more temper tantrums over my not sharing information.”

“Okay.”

Tommy leaned back in his chair, reaching out to smooth his hand up and down her thigh. “Thank you.”

“Of course.”

His arms looped around her, and she laughed quietly when he pulled her closer, his head tipping back to stare up at her, blue eyes wide and mischievous.

“Adam went home?”

“Yes.”

“Hm…so it’s just us, then?”

Her fingers smoothed through his dark hair, fighting back a smirk. “Yes, it’s just us.”

With a purring sound from low in the back of his throat, he took hold of her hips and pulled her closer.

“Tommy!” She laughed as he maneuvered her into his lap, as if this was not something they had done dozens of times before. As if she had not let him fuck her on top of his big desk the very first day they spent in the new office, her face burying in his shoulder with her teeth sinking into the thick fabric of his suit jacket to try to keep herself quiet while his cock pounded into her.

He pushed open her suit jacket, popping free the first two buttons on her shirt and dipping his head to press his lips to the newly exposed skin. Wriggling in his lap, Lucy hissed at the feeling of his cock already hardening in his trousers, the material bulging against her.

Tangling her hands in his hair, she tipped his head back enough to kiss him, moaning softly as his hands smoothed up her thighs, urging her to rock against him and fumbling with her belt. It was late, most people working in the building would have already gone home for the evening. But they still needed to be quiet.

“Mm, did you lock the door?” Tommy asked in a low, rough murmur that went straight to her cunt, walls fluttering around nothing. The things he could do to her with just his voice alone were downright sinful.

“Yes.”

He made a noise of approval that turned her legs to jelly. “Good,” he lifted her from his lap for a microsecond to slip her loosened trousers and knickers down, hand burning hot where it slid up her exposed thigh. “Always such a good girl for me.”

“A-ah…” her head lolled back, eyes rolling both at the praise and the first brush of his thick fingers across her entrance, circling lazily around her clit.

“Gotta keep quiet, now,” he continued to mumble in her ear, breath warm where it fanned against her cheek. “Can you do that for me?”

She nodded vigorously. That was all she wanted; to be good for him. To make him happy.

Turning his head, Tommy pressed a kiss to her temple and gingerly slipped one finger into her while his thumb occupied itself with rolling over her clit. He kept his movements careful and slow until he got her more warmed up, waiting until slickness coated his hand generously before adding a second finger and increasing the pace of his pumps.

“There you go,” he hummed when he felt her start to flutter around him. “There you go, that’s a good girl…”

“Tom…” she whimpered, biting her lip to try to keep herself quiet, not wanting to disappoint him by letting any sounds slip out to be heard beyond this room.

“I know,” he soothed. “That’s my girl. Bite down on my shoulder if you need to.”

She did just that, nosing the material of his clothing aside to taste his bare skin between her lips. Tommy groaned, low and quiet but impossibly deep, at the first sting of her teeth against him. Her walls tightened, moments away from bursting. His fingers curled within her, pressing right into the spot that made her see stars.

“Let go,” he ordered in a sweet whisper aimed directly into her ear, and she bit down hard to try to hinder what would have been an incredibly loud moan as her orgasm wrecked through her like a firecracker, bright lights exploding behind her eyes, entire body shuddering with it, pressing close to him instinctively.

Tommy guided her through it, slowly coaxing her down from her high until she slumped against him.

“Good. Very good, sweetheart.”

She made a happy little noise at the praise, snuggling closer to his neck, nuzzling at the bitemark she’d left on him. Tommy stroked the back of her head, kissing her hair. Sneakily, she snaked a hand down between their bodies to palm the bulge in his trousers, and it was his turn to try to stifle his noises of pleasure, teeth locking down tight around the groan rising from his throat.

Arms wrapping around her, he lifted her seemingly effortlessly off of his lap, setting her down on the edge of his desk while he stood, hands dropping down to fumble with his trousers. Lucy felt her mouth water at the sight of his long, impossibly thick erection bobbing against his stomach after being released from its confines. Tommy gave himself a few good, languid strokes, jaw dropping open as his eyelashes fluttered, face inches from hers. Lucy spread her legs wider, encouraging him in between them. Her hands grabbed at handfuls of his suit jacket while he lined himself up, sliding in with one deep thrust.

“Oh,” Tommy rested his cheek against hers, hands flexing where they landed on her hip and thigh.

“Quiet, remember?” she teased slightly, trailing her fingertips through his hair. He shivered, letting out a breathless chuckle followed by a kiss to her cheek. Burying his face in her neck, hands bracing on her body, he started to move. She could tell that he was trying to start out slow and give her time to adjust to his considerable size, but all it took was her purposefully squeezing around his cock and wrapping her legs around his waist, and his efforts went up in smoke.

He bucked into her like a man possessed, low grunts muffled against her throat, a few trinkets rattling on the desk from the force of his thrusts. Lucy tucked her face back in against his shoulder, biting down hard on her bottom lip to try to contain her whimpers and moans as his swollen tip rubbed right up against her g-spot with each roll of his hips.

“Shit. Squeezing me so tight, love,” Tommy rasped out, hand slipping between their bodies to rub at her clit. “Give me another one, yeah? I know you can, sweetheart.”

“Mm…” Her back arched, pressing her clothed breasts into his chest. Her legs tightened around him, and her jaw clenched with the effort it was taking for her not to let the volume of her noises get too high. His cock twitched and throbbed inside her, in the way that she knew meant his orgasm was imminent. The pleasure built like steam rising in a kettle, tension mounting until she felt moments away from bursting. Her walls spasmed uncontrollably around him, as if wanting to keep him locked in place within her for all eternity. Tommy hitched her thigh up a little higher on his hip, allowing his cock to get just that much deeper into her, and applied more pressure to her clit with his thumb.

She came at the same moment that she managed to grab his face and bring his mouth crashing down onto hers, each of them swallowing what would have been massive moans as they both came fantastically. Her walls clamped down around him, insides fluttering with the force with which she came. Tommy’s chest vibrated under her palms with his growl as he finished, grinding his tip in as deep as he could go while spurting jets of seed into her.

Lucy released a blissful sigh, closing her eyes and riding out the waves of her climax while basking in the feeling of him spilling his load into her.

Tommy slumped forwards against her, face nestling in the crook of her shoulder, lips pressing to her neck delicately whilst he relaxed. His arms wound around her in a warm embrace, a quiet purr leaving his chest when she stroked the back of his head.

“We should go,” Lucy finally broke the silence that had stretched on between them. Tommy nodded, shifting to carefully pull out of her, tucking himself back into his trousers and straightening out his clothes. He plucked a handkerchief from his pocket for her to use to clean the mix of their releases from her thighs, then let her hold onto his shoulders when she hopped off the edge of the desk and regained her balance.

“Have you got everything locked up?” he asked as she pulled her slacks back up.

“Yeah, just gotta grab a few things from my desk to take with us.”

“Good. I wanna get out of here.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Tommy Shelby eager to leave work? Is there a special occasion I’m not aware of?”

He rolled his eyes, giving her hip a light pinch. “No occasion.” He swiped a few locks of hair off of her forehead and cradled the back of her neck, a smile tugging on the edges of his lips while his eyes looked her up and down. There was something heated in them that made her thighs squeeze together. “Except that I’m not even close to done with you yet.”

∗ ∗ ∗

“You know, Frances, if there were to be a snap election in this house today, I wouldn’t win it. Even if I were running against the devil himself,” Tommy remarked to their housekeeper once they’d gotten home. Frances shot him a sympathetic look.

“I’d still vote for you,” Lucy offered. Tommy gave her a peck on the cheek.

“Thanks, love.”

He went off to go talk to Charlie where he was sulking in the stables while Lucy ventured upstairs, wandering through the winding hallways until she heard the hum of Lizzie and Ruby’s voices. Coming to a halt in the doorway of Ruby’s room, she watched them where they were seated together in the rocking chair by the window, Ruby in Lizzie’s lap, head resting on her mother’s chest while Lizzie read to her from a book.

“Hi, Lucy!” Ruby said when she spotted her. Lucy smiled.

“Hey, kiddo.”

“Is Daddy with you?”

“He’s down at the stables.”

She let out an excited squeal, jumping off Lizzie’s lap and racing for the door.

“Ruby, what have I told you about running in the house!?” Lizzie shouted after her, but the little girl was already long gone. Lizzie rolled her eyes fondly, shaking her head and closing the book. As Lucy watched her stand to put it away on a shelf, she noticed Ruby’s suitcase laid out on the bed, half filled with clothes.

“Going somewhere?”

Lizzie sighed, glancing over at the suitcase, then back at Lucy. “I’m taking Ruby to Arthur’s.”

Lucy stared at her. “Why?”

Lizzie’s lips pulled back from her teeth. “Because, I realized this afternoon that I’d rather swallow horse shit than sit down and eat dinner with you and him.” She began to zip up Ruby’s luggage. “I need to get away. From both of you. At least for a while.”

“You could have phoned and we would’ve stayed at the apartment in London like we did last night if you really don’t want us here this weekend.”

“I don’t know if it’s going to be for just one weekend.”

Lucy straightened. “What do you mean?”

Lizzie didn't reply.

“You cannot be serious. Now, Lizzie? You want to toy around with the idea of splitting up with your husband now? Of all fucking times?”

“He made me look like an idiot at the family meeting!” Lizzie burst out, head lifting and tears in her eyes. “Everyone else knew about the bloody hit in Chinatown except for me! I am his wife! I should be informed of these things first! Especially before you!” The way that she spat out that last word, so full of hate and disgust, made Lucy flinch.

“For fuck’s sake, Lizzie! There’s a lot of shit here that you are more than justified in being unhappy about, but this? Really? This is where you draw the line?” A humorless laugh left her lips. “I hate to break it to you, but him not telling you things is a normal occurrence. Ada didn’t know about what was happening in Chinatown either.”

Lizzie looked away, irritably picking up a stuffed animal off of Ruby’s bed. Lucy took a deep breath, and when she spoke again her voice was much calmer.

“This is not worth throwing a bloody temper tantrum over, Lizzie.”

“I’m tired of being disrespected,” she lifted her head. “I’m his wife, and he needs to start treating him as such.”

Lucy groaned, raising her palms to her face, fighting back the urge to scream into them. “Just once, could you knock it off with the attitude?”

“Easy for you to say, when you always get everything that you want–”

“Oh, do I, now?” Lucy rounded on her. “You think that this,” she gestured vaguely, “is what I want? To have to share him with a woman who openly hates me?”

“I don’t hate you–”

But Lucy talked right over her. “To have to live with the constant worry that you might push me out or he might change his mind and throw me out on the street? That it could happen like that,” she snapped her fingers. “And I could lose everything? Do you think that I wanted to live with that dangling over my head at all hours of the day, Lizzie?” She met the taller woman’s stormy eyes levelly. “We’re all getting a shit deal out of this, so stop feeling so fucking sorry for yourself, and make the best of it,” she moved to the door.

“You are so fucking selfish, you know that!?” Lizzie shrieked after her, finally fully exploding. “You sap up all his love for yourself and leave nothing for the rest of us! You don’t care that him spending time with you means he’s not here with his family! Those children,” she pointed towards the window that looked out to the stables, “deserve a father who prioritizes them over running after his fucking mistress.”

“Don’t you dare try to use the kids–”

“Well, somebody in this household has to advocate for them!”

“Don’t act like you aren’t just using them as a way to try to get what you want.”

Lizzie’s lips slammed into a thin line. “I’m going. And I’m taking Ruby with me.”

“But not Charlie?” Lucy challenged.

“If I thought that I could take him without Tommy tearing me apart over it, I would,” Lizzie’s voice had suddenly grown very quiet. “I’d take the two of them far away from you both and never look back.”

Lucy shook her head, exhausted. “He’s not that bad, Lizzie. Compared to what he could be? He’s not that bad at all. He doesn’t hit you. He loves those kids…” she could see from the expression of stone on Lizzie’s face that none of her words would be able to reach her, and yet she tried anyway. “He’s got so much to deal with right now. Please don’t make it worse for him.”

Lizzie continued to just stare at her with a look of both extreme sorrow and loathing, and then she picked up Ruby’s suitcase and shouldered past her without another word.

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lunxrstellx · 18 hours ago

Text

fave tommy series!!

x: Thomas Shelby found his match in an information bookie who has eluded the grasp of the Peaky Blinders long enough to crumble their power over Birmingham. But at last, he found you. The ghost he'd been chasing was finally in front of him, but you were trickier than he expected. Dangerous, cunning - and a bit too much like himself. To buy your loyalty, he would have to sell his in equal measure. Loyalty for loyalty - blood for blood - how much were either of you willing to spill before the game changed entirely?

a/n: holy shit it's over

part 26: reset

word count: 3,407 tag: @bruhidkjustwannaread | @rubyxx16 | @bellabarnes1378 | @johnmurphys-sass | @strangeobsessed

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It was just past noon when you entered the betting house, the familiar hum of the Blinders' daily grind in full swing. The chaos of the morning’s business dealings settling into a lull. Tommy sat behind his desk, speaking quietly with John and Arthur, his sharp eyes scanning the room as usual. Your arrival was met with nothing more than a subtle glance, a knowing acknowledgment. You were already a part of the furniture, as integral to the operation as the ledgers carefully tucked away.

Today, though, the tension was palpable. A new shipment had arrived, and the logistics of it all were weighing on everyone. You spent the morning coordinating with the men, ensuring the distribution routes were set, and making sure their contacts were loyal—loyalty being a currency the Blinders didn’t often take lightly. The risks had grown larger, and there was no room for failure.

Tommy had given you full control of the day-to-day, trusting you to act on his behalf, a responsibility you’d earned over the past months. The work had initially come in bursts—small tasks here and there, conversations with men on the docks, reports on deals—but over time, it had grown into something more. Tommy had seen in you what he needed all along: someone who didn’t just follow orders but made the right calls on your own.

Most important of the aspects that you unknowingly displayed: you showed no resistance to the world that welcomed you. There was no part of you that sought change—only progress.

You walked across the room, your heels clicking against the worn floorboards. Your presence didn’t command the room the way Tommy did—there was no need for grand entrances. The Blinders didn’t need to be reminded of your role; they had already learned it.

“Everything set for today?” Tommy asked without looking up, his voice the kind of deep, calm authority that left no room for doubt.

You nodded, stepping into the back room to check on the paperwork. It was all in order—accounts balanced, the deals set to move smoothly, the men in place to ensure it all went without a hitch. You came to understand the business quickly, and as you sorted through the ledgers, you felt a sense of pride in it. It was a strange thing, working for Tommy Shelby, and yet, it had begun to feel like a place you belonged. More than that, it was a place where you had a voice—a voice that was respected. No longer did you cling to the shadows. The light found you, and from there, it was only a matter of keeping the flame burning.

Outside the back room, the brothers were starting to gather around the table. John had a glint of mischief in his eyes, already looking to stir things up. Arthur, for once, seemed quieter than usual, lost in his own thoughts. And Finn—Finn, the youngest, watched you more closely than he would have dared before. There was something different in the way he looked at you now—respect, maybe, or perhaps even something more.

He wasn't the same since the incident outside the bookshop. A change that didn't go unnoticed, but it was overlooked by Tommy who attributed it to the numbing years of a growing boy in the business.

You walked back into the main room, placing the papers down with a calm efficiency.

Arthur caught your eye as you moved to join them, giving you a nod of acknowledgment. It was rare for him to show his approval so openly, but it was clear to everyone in the room that you were more than just Tommy’s confidante. You were someone who stood alongside him, someone whose decisions were just as binding as his. That, alone, was an anomaly.

“Everything set, love?” Arthur asked with a grin, always the one to break the tension. Tommy, too, had come to see that Arthur wasn’t just the wild card—he was the heart, even if he sometimes acted out of impulse.

You glanced at Tommy, catching the slight nod he gave you. His approval was silent, but it was there.

“It’s all in place,” you said, your voice steady and subtly confident. “The new shipment will be at the docks by tonight. We’ll need to make sure everyone’s on time for the distribution. The last thing we need is another delay.”

The brothers shifted, murmuring among themselves, clearly pleased with how you were taking charge. The weight of Tommy’s expectations was always there, but you learned to bear it. You were used to the tension now, the constant weight of your role, the subtle pressure from Tommy, and the way the brothers looked to you for answers when he wasn’t around.

“We’ll handle it,” John said with a chuckle, his hands tucked casually into his pockets. “Ain’t no one better for the job than us, right?”

You nodded with a smirk. You didn’t need to say much.

As the brothers continued to discuss the logistics of the day, you stood back, your eyes drifting across the room. Finn's stare caught your eye again, and you motioned for him to join you in an empty office. You sat down quietly while he stood rather stiffly.

"How are you?" you asked plainly.

"Business as usual." His responses were always short.

"Finn," you sighed with the soft shake of your head. "I told you why it happened that way."

"I know."

"And yet, you're upset with me."

The briefest look of anger flashed over his eyes before it disappeared back into his face of apathy. He shrugged. "I know."

You stood, placing your hands on his shoulders with a gentle squeeze. You didn't want to continuously placate him. It was understandable—his frustration. His mistrust. He thought he'd let you and Tommy down by letting you leave with Bingham that day.

Finn's eyes searched yours for the explanation he was looking for. "Tommy doesn't think I can handle it."

"And can you?"

"I know I can."

You grinned, a touch of playfulness and amusement. "Then I trust you to prove it."

After a few seconds, he chuckled, shaking his head in disbelief that you could say something so simple.

"Come with me to the new shop. You can run the books if that's what you want. Show Tommy you can handle running my business." You raised an eyebrow, hinting at all he could accomplish.

It wasn’t just the business side of things that had changed. Tommy showed an immense amount of proactivity. He took all of Bingham's properties, turned them into new places for the Blinders to conduct their business. As for you, once Bingham's old bookshop was handed over, it was put in your care. He knew what it meant to you—having another place to run to if you ever needed it.

Finn nodded with a curt grin. "I'll take care of it."

You learned to be tough, to be assertive, but you also learned when to step back and let the brothers handle things. There were times when Tommy needed your voice, and there were times when he needed you to be his eyes and ears. In the silence of the Garrison or the betting house, amidst the noise of the world outside, you knew that this was where you belonged—for now. It was a strange thing, being with the Blinders, but it was something you’d come to embrace.

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The Garrison was alive with noise. Laughter echoed off the stone walls, glasses clinked, and the familiar scent of whiskey hung in the air. The Shelby family had gathered as they always did, a moment of respite from their usual chaos. Tonight, however, the atmosphere was warmer, more relaxed. Even Finn had allowed himself a smile as he sipped his drink.

You sat beside Tommy, as you always did now. Over the past months, the unspoken distance between you had dissolved. You became more than just Tommy’s right hand—you were part of the family. The Shelbys treated you like one of their own, with the same loyalty, the same grudging affection. And Tommy, for all his coldness, let you in—let you see the man he was beneath the armor he wore.

The conversation had shifted to the usual tales, wild stories of old schemes and new faces in the streets of Birmingham. But as the laughter continued and the family reveled in each other’s company, Tommy’s gaze fell on you, steady and intense. He watched you for a long moment, almost as if lost in thought. There was something different in his eyes tonight—a flicker of something that you couldn’t quite place. Neither of you ventured past the comfortable silence. Even though the others knew there was more to this relationship than the business, you both kept the briefest amount of distance as if it was better to keep the intimate details a secret—something sacred to be saved for your eyes alone.

Arthur raised his glass , his voice louder than usual. “To Tommy and y/n—may the world fuckin' burn at your feet.” He paused, a grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. “And to Shelby Company, Limited.”

Everyone murmured their agreement, clinking their glasses together in a unified toast. Even John, whose usual cynicism had softened in recent months, smiled as he raised his own drink.

Quietly, you slipped into the back room, hoping to find a moment of solitude. The noise from the pub had softened into murmurs, and the lamplight flickered as shadows stretched across the floor. You always needed a break from all the noise, just a moment to breathe. But you hadn’t expected to find Polly waiting in the corner, a glass of whiskey in hand, watching you with those knowing eyes.

You paused in the doorway, feeling a momentary hesitation. Polly wasn’t just a sharp observer—she was someone who understood the weight of the world, someone who had seen it all. And you weren't sure if you wanted to be seen right now.

"Come in, love. No need to stand there like you’re hiding," Polly said, her voice soft but firm.

You entered quietly, closing the door behind you. You glanced toward the table, uncertain whether to sit. Polly, as always, didn’t rush you. She didn’t need to.

With a resigned sigh, you took a seat across from Polly. Her gaze never left you, not in a way that was judgmental, but more like she was watching for something you weren't yet ready to admit.

After a long pause, Polly took a sip of her whiskey, then placed the glass down with deliberate slowness, her eyes never straying from you.

“I’ve been watching you and Tommy,” Polly said, her tone light but filled with the weight of experience. “It’s not lost on me, you know.”

You didn’t look up. You didn’t want to. You could feel the words swirling in your mind, but you couldn’t bring yourself to say them. You fidgeted with your sleeve, the rough fabric doing little to ease the anxiety creeping up in your stomach.

Polly continued, as if she’d already known the thoughts racing through your head. “You two are different from how Tommy was with Grace.”

You stiffened. Tommy never brought up Grace, and you did all you could to avoid thinking about her. You paid Tommy the same courtesy, leaving Ezra in the past ever since that day at the cemetery. You knew, though, that there were times he wanted to ask. Those moments when you were too quiet or lost in thought. Polly always seemed to find a way to pull the past back into the present.

“I know he loved her,” Polly said softly, almost to herself. “But business always got in the way. It always does with him. Even at their wedding, he was conducting business.”

You stayed silent, your chest tight as the memory of Grace resurfaced. Standing in the shadow of that history, you knew there was no easy way to compare yourself to Grace, not even now.

“But with you,” Polly’s voice cut through your thoughts, “it’s different. You’re part of the business, yes. But you’re also part of him. And that’s something he doesn’t give to just anyone. I have a feeling that if business were to intrude on your time with him, you'd be at his side if only to make sure things were done the right way.”

You finally looked up, meeting Polly’s steady gaze.

“I have another feeling,” Polly continued, her tone quiet, “He wants more from you. More with you. He just doesn't know how to say it.”

“Is this one of your visions, Pol?” you asked with a smirk. “Or has Tommy been whispering about me?”

Polly smiled, but it was a smile that held both understanding and something more, something deeper. “Not a vision. Maybe it's women's intuition, or maybe I'm just not as blind as you choose to be. I think he’s more serious than you know. And he’s not going to push you. But I also think he’s waiting for you to decide.”

You leaned back in your chair, tilting your head playfully as you always did.

"All he has to do is ask, Pol."

“Exactly the answer I'd expect from you,” Polly said with an accepting nod. “I only hope he has the balls to do it.”

Polly gave you a reassuring look before walking toward the door.

“The boys and I are betting on when it will happen. Be sure to let me know if it happens before midnight.”

As the door closed behind Polly, you laughed to yourself. You sipped your whiskey slowly, and as it trickled down your throat, you breathed a heavy sigh of relief.

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When you stepped back into the main room, Tommy's eyes fell on you immediately. You took your seat beside him, cigarette already between your lips as he held the match for you.

You could sense the eyes continuously glancing over at you. The boys were never subtle. They were watching. They were waiting.

Without a word, Tommy reached under the table, sliding a small gold ring from his pocket. He placed it on your thigh, his fingers brushing against the smallest part of your skin that revealed itself from beneath your skirt. The gesture was almost imperceptible to anyone else, buried beneath the noise of the celebration, but to you, it felt like the room had fallen silent.

The ring was simple—no grand flourish, no extravagance. It was exactly the kind of sentiment you would have expected from him. He needed no grandiose display of affection, just a ring and the comfortable silence.

You looked down at the ring and slipped it over your index finger, turning it slowly with a soft smile. You turned to Tommy who looked straight ahead towards the end of the table. After a moment, he turned to face you, his expression still. As he stared, you heard his voice in the back of your mind, the question that needed to be asked.

Marry me.

You slowly stood, your chair scraping across the floor. The eyes of the family turned toward you, the sudden movement drawing their attention. There was a short silence as they all waited.

“Excuse me,” you said with a brief nod of your head.

Tommy watched you walk towards the door, his jaw tight, his gaze unwavering. No one spoke, not until Tommy stood up from the table and walked after you.

✒✒✒✒✒✒✒✒✒✒

Outside, the cool evening air hit you like a rush of clarity.

The door opened behind you, and you didn’t need to turn to know it was Tommy. His presence was a constant now, one that you had learned to rely on, even when everything else felt uncertain.

He stepped beside you, not speaking at first, just letting the silence stretch between you. His hands were in his pockets, but you could feel the tension in his posture, the same quiet patience he always had.

"I didn't want to ask in front of everyone."

You turned, taking a long drag of your cigarette before blowing a plume of smoke into the air, but you didn't respond.

Tommy’s lips quirked slightly at the corners. He had expected resistance, but your silence told him something else. Without a word, he reached for you, pulling you into him. He threw your cigarette to the floor, and the moment his lips met yours, your chest seemed to collapse into him, your heart pounding with something deeper than desire.

When he finally pulled away, your breath was shaky. Tommy knew just how to unsettle you—be unpredictable. It was the only way to shake someone like you who knew how to anticipate everything.

“You want me to ask you out loud, don't you?” Tommy asked softly, his voice low enough that only you could hear.

Your smile was small, but there was a raw honesty in it, something Tommy had never seen from you before. “Well, I'm not going to ask you,” you whispered with a giggle. "If we weren't standing in the middle of the filth of Birmingham, I would've given you shit for not getting down on your knee."

Tommy nodded with a smirk, a rare look of contentment crossing his face. There was no need for grand gestures or declarations. Not here, not now. This was enough.

"Very well then." He took your hang and removed the small ring, still loosely hanging from the tip of your finger. He held it up between your faces, his eyes suddenly turning serious.

It finally settled in your mind that he was being sincere. While neither of you would ever be the type to be sentimental in front of the others, here—in the privacy of the moonlight, he was more than willing for you only.

"Marry me, y/n. I'm afraid I won't be able to do this without you, and that's something I wouldn't admit lightly."

You laughed softly, shaking your head. "Even now, Tommy Shelby, with the menacing tone."

You reached for the ring, but he pulled his hand back. "Not yet."

Both your gazes turned serious and still as he dangled the ring in front of you.

"I said it." Tommy moved in closer until his lips hovered just above yours. "This ring isn't going on your finger until you answer."

Your eyes searched his, and in his stare you found all you needed to give the answer you both wanted. But, even now, you couldn't resist bringing back the silence that started this story. Thomas Shelby finally learned to tell you what he wanted without the unspoken strings attached, and now, here he was, standing before you—not as a broken man seeking a dream. He was asking for you because you were the one he wanted.

And damn anyone who would expect him to accept anything less.

You took his face in your hands. He eased forward, anticipating a kiss of acceptance, but you pushed further until your lips grazed the edge of his ear.

"Yes, Tommy, I will marry you."

Tommy's lips brushed against yours in the briefest of moments. A cloud of contentment enveloped you in the midst of the Birmingham chill, at last hinting towards the oncoming spring. He slipped the ring over your finger and admired it.

The doors to the Garrison burst open, and Arthur lurched forward before abruptly halting in his tracks. He looked at the two of you and his face twisted between bewilderment and joy. One by one the family peered out the door, each with a growing smirk before they all collectively groaned. Polly won the bet, and they knew it wouldn't be long before they had to pay up.

Arthur cleared his throat, walking up with his hand held out. "Is this the part where I say 'congratulations'?"

Tommy smirked and shook his hand.

Arthur's face slowly dropped. "Tom, we got a call. It's from Ada. Said she got a letter."

"From who?" you asked, almost forgetting all together what just happened. Instead, you focused on the serious tone in Arthur's voice.

Tommy's face slowly grew cold, but still, he held your hand firmly with the subtlest squeeze.

Arthur spoke slowly, "She got a black hand, Tom."

Tommy turned to you, and for a moment, he allowed you to see that he didn't forget. This was the beginning of your future with him, but not only that—this was the beginning of a new game.

#thomas shelby #tommy shelby #tommy shelby x reader #thomas shelby x reader

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