#billy kimber x reader

[zkvry]

Are You Laughing at My Brother? | Shelby Brothers x Sister!Reader

Summary : Y/N is just a year younger than John Shelby, though her immense instinct to protect her older brothers against their enemies reveals that the Shelby name is not to be trifled with.

Warnings : cussing, misogyny, death threats, guns, descriptions of violence, racism

Additional Information : > takes place in early season 1 ; Billy Kimber era (minor spoilers) > written in third person perspective (she/her) > 847 words | 6 minutes

Author's Note : decided to use some gifs along the way, might be distracting for your reading - I apologise. My first work on here, please let me know how you find it! Enjoy <3

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"Are you laughing, at my brother?" She speaks, appearing from behind the bar. For the first time since they've dared to enter the Garrison, Billy Kimber and his two men flinched slightly at her sternness. This only lasted a split second. Still, it didn't go unnoticed.

Billy Kimber flashes a cocksure smirk, pleased at the presence of something less dreadful than matter at hand. "And what do we have here,"

John lets out a humourless laugh. "I'd be careful with that one. She's feisty," He warns Billy Kimber with an all-knowing look.

Billy Kimber rakes his eyes over her physique. "This is no place for a whore - even a pretty one at that," He tuts mockingly, shaking his head.

Arthur inhales deeply as he fights the very last nerve to not cut the cheeky bastard across the face - to not slice his eyes for looking at his dearest little sister. The word 'whore' bounces around in his head. Arthur's lips twitch, knuckles turning white as he grips onto the arm rest for restraint.

He was waiting for a signal - a sound or nod of approval from Tommy or Her. Hell, he thinks, even John could command it and he would bloody do it. No questions asked.

Nonetheless, She makes her presence known. Almost like clockwork - one of the Shelby brothers stand and holds out his chair. In this moment, it was John. He extends his hand and escorts her to his previously occupied seat with care. Recklessly, he drags a chair for himself from a nearby table beside them, and plops down.

Billy Kimber clears his throat wearily but still as arrogant as before. "Right, he's the oldest, you're the thickest. I'm told the boss is called tommy so it can't be this woman you lot here seem to worship. Then I'm guessing that's you, cause you're looking at me up and down like I'm a fucking tart, " He spits out.

Thomas finally unclenches his jaw, the throbbing pain creeping onto him. He puts on a calm façade. Unmoving, he looks to Her direction.

Only when he saw She hadn't intervene, he spoke. "I want to know what you want. And which one am I talking to, which one of you is the boss?" Thomas breathes out as he takes a puff from a cigarette. His finger darting around from Billy Kimber to the two men that accompanied him.

Billy Kimber shoots up from his seat, knocking it to the ground. "I'm the fucking boss, alright!? Enough parley, you fixed the race without my permission. You fucking Gypsy scum. I run the races. You fixed one of 'em, so I'm going to have you shot against the post!" He declares - finger pointing threateningly to Thomas.

"Pick it up," She leans forward onto the table, hands intertwined infront of her.

Billy Kimber looks at her flabbergasted, "What?" He furrows his eyebrows, offended.

She stands slowly, the men around her straightening their backs in alert at her movement. She stares at him, unfriendly.

"I said," She continues, leaning forward once more, arms stretched out on the sides of the table, dominating the space at the table. "Pick. my chair. up," She repeats.

Billy Kimber remains stunned, seemingly not knowing what to do. The audacity of such a woman to demand him to pick up a chair? He was shocked to say the least, and outrageously insulted.

Ready to argue and humiliate her, Billy Kimber opens his mouth but She was quicker.

"You swayed your arse in here like you own the place. Guns out like you're flaunting fuck knows what," She speaks fluently, rage settling in. "We fixed your race, you put a bullet in my ceiling. That's fair, but then you had to run that fucking mouthpiece of yours didn't ya eh?"

"Want to put a bullet in my brother's head, is that it?" Like a predator, She stalks closer to him.

As She approaches, one of Billy Kimber's men crouched down and picked up the fallen chair. Just as the chair was upright, She gathered her strength and slammed Kimber's shoulders down onto the seat and held him still.

"Why don't we put one in yours?" She whispers into his ear, patting harshly on his right shoulder.

In an instant, Kimber's two men draw their guns.

The Shelby brothers lurch forward, in efforts to protect their sister infront of them, moving to draw their own guns as well.

However, the men who were supposedly loyal to Billy Kimber pointed their guns at the man himself. A sinister smile creeps onto Her face.

"Let's do proper business, shall we Mister Kimber? Starting off with your races, " She declares, moving to lower the guns that have been drawn by her brothers and the two men working for Her.

She turns abruptly to face Kimber. "Though, they wouldn't be your races any longer after we're done here, would they? " Her face suggestive of diplomacy, but voice laced with threat.

[corrupte3d-mindz]

Uncharted Territory

Billy Kimber’s Daughter

Possessive! Thomas Shelby x Reader Kimber

Summary: Your first encounter with Thomas Shelby, and your relationship between the two of you a month later.

WordCount: 3.1k

Stable, was all you could say about your relationship with Thomas Shelby. Relationships with him weren’t unknown but there were very few who stuck around for longer than just a night. Thomas was one who sought after you, after that faithful day at the Garrison; you shouldn’t have even been there but your father insisted. However he said to stay in the car and wait, after this little meeting with the man who fixed a race; you needed to get your dress for the derby the following evening. Remembering that day like it was the night before.

“Right, he’s the oldest, you’re the thickest. I’m told the boss is called Tommy and I’m guessing that’s you cos’ you’re looking me up and down like I’m a fucking tart”

The door behind your father creeks, and he turns his head before lowering it in disappointment. Thomas, Arthur, and John all move in their seats to look at the person, John put his hand on his gun belt along with Arthur.

“you’re just like your mother.”

Kimber notices their hands on their gun belts, clearing his throat and gently pulling you behind him he looks at them.

"I'm gonna have you shot against a pole if you don't take your fuckin' hands off the guns. She means no harm; just insanely impatient."

Thomas noted your small frame and waved for his brothers to stand down.

"Women ain't part of this deal, Kimber." pausing, looking back at you "You and I both know that all too well."

"So, why'd you bring her in the first place?"

"Well, I thought this bloody meeting would be over quick, didn’t I? Instead of wasting time going back home to fetch her for those measurements for the new dress for the derby tomorrow, I just brought her here. Told her to stay in the car, didn't I?”

“You said it would be over by 10, it’s 11 now!”

Gritting your teeth and biting your tongue before you said anything else, but Thomas stood up and asked Kimber to move so he could see you.

"Is this what you handle? All day long?" Thomas stares at you, eyes cold and calculating, before turning the Kimber, his voice low and dangerous."Is she with anyone?"

"Oh, bloody hell no, she's not dating unless the lad can offer her what I've given her growing up... and that ain't happened yet, has it?"

“No..no it hasn’t”

“Kimber I’ve never seen her at the races before, you hiding her?”

Kimber looked at him before smiling

"She stays put where I'm at, see? She don't get the choice to wander when I ain't around."

Clearing your throat, and standing in with your back facing your father. You spoke up about your feelings.

"‘E's fuckin' stupid, that's what it is."

"Another reason why she can’t walk around, she runs her mouth like a bloody sailor. It makes me look bad."

Kimber runs his fingers through your hair and fixed it to his liking

"Oi, what's her age, then? Legal, ain't she?"

Kimber thought about it for a second, before nodding and saying you’re nineteen.

"Aye, you reckon you can handle her, lad? I'm warning you, she may seem calm now, but she ain't one for stoppin' and listenin'. It's like there's no brain up there, I tell ya."

You bit your tongue before deciding it was worth it.

“I have a fuckin' brain, I was top of my math class”

"Sweetheart, I'm just givin' you a hard time about it. I know you're extremely smart with numbers, but actin' proper, is where ya’ struggle."

“Should I meet the description of what you want in a partner, then I shall court her to seal this deal. Sound like a plan?"

Thomas sat back down his chair and pulled out a cigarette and lighter then lighting it.

“It'd be a smart move, but it's her call. 'Cause this is for your gain, not mine."

His eyes fixed onto yours

"Tell me, love, what's your verdict?" Thomas exhales smoke slowly, his gaze unwavering, piercing through the veil of the Garrison.

And the rest was history, the derby ‘date’ went outstandingly well for us. Thomas was very kind and generous with you, your father even let you and him walk around alone instead of being cooped up in the box you normally sit in. The deal was agreed upon after that day and he could see I was delighted to have someone different to talk to besides him or the maids. The most memorable thing of that day was the kiss you shared after he said goodbye to you, it felt real and intimate and not like it was false. Thomas learned you really loved riding horses, painting, and of course cooking. Meeting him felt like putting the last piece of a puzzle together.

Stopping by the Marquis Pub on your way home, well Thomas’s home. One of your favorite bartender Nicolas Tennant was in that pub and you loved talking to him about your relationship with Thomas and how it was going. You felt like celebrating for an odd reason but why ignore it.

“Ello’ Nicolas how’s the family doing?”

Nicolas looked up and stuck his head out from behind the bar top, with a great big smile that could cut through paper.

“Oh, miss Kimber how are you doing today?, and the family is doing well”

“I’m feeling really grand to the point where I feel like celebrating”

The both of you chatted and caught up with each other’s lives and then you asked;

“Do you happen to have a bottle of red wine and Irish whiskey?”

He smiled at you once again before nodding his head and turning around to head to the back of the pub. Suddenly, you felt a sense of despair and pain looming over you and you turn around to see a man who’s about a foot taller than you and drunk.

“I’ll pay you £10 to have you for the night, come on baby what’do ya say~”

“No, thank you. I’m not one of those”

“Every woman is if you pay them enough, come on..”

“I’ve said no! I’m seeing someone!”

"Oi, come on now… I'm tellin' ya, I'm taller than 'im, stronger, faster, and bigger, yeah? Jus' give me a chance, love. Why you wastin' time with 'im? I got the money. Don't be daft, let's 'ave a good time, eh? You won’t regret it, I swear!"

Taken aback by this statement you leaned into the bar top, but you couldn’t move any further. The man wrapped his hand around your waist and brought your hips against his. You put your hands up against his chest and pushing away from him.

Nicolas walked back to the bar top with the liquor in a brown paper bag. Shocked by the sudden change in the atmosphere he spoke up;

“Are you fuckin’ suicidal mate?, that’s a Kimber!”

The man pushed off of you and stepped back, beads of sweat started to roll down his face. He immediately looked at you and got on his knees to beg for his life. It was truly disgusting, you felt dirty. The man noticed your face and decided it would be better if he just left and he did, leaving the pub. Looking back at Nicolas he was sweating as well, he knew that his life was on the line since this happened in his presence. He puts the bag with the bottles on the counter and then says;

“Now, it’s on the house for your troubles..”

“Oh, you really don’t have too, but can I borrow your phone in the back?”

“Sure go right ahead”

The adrenaline rush of what just happened was still rushing through your veins, felt like an adaptation of a stroke mixed with a heart attack. The feeling of being in a state where you couldn’t defend yourself was playing on loop, reminding you that you’re weak. Picking up the phone and sitting down on the desk in the dark and dimly lit back room picking up the receiver and dialing Cheshire 9210. The phone rang twice before picking up and on the other end was Thomas.

“_______ where are you, e’s everythin’ alright?”

“….there was a problem with some guy and-“

You could hear Thomas’s breath exhale when he heard that, cutting you off he asked in a tone that was masking his true nature.

“_______ what’s the man’s name?..”

“I don’t know the man’s-“

You heard a door creek and looked in the sound’s direction, it was Nicolas; apparently he was leaning against the door and pushed it open. Red in the face he looked at you.

“His name’s Lenny Davis, he’s one of my regulars”

Smiling and mouthing the word thank you before waving your hand for him to go away.

“It’s Lenny Davis..”

“Alright, that’s all I needed”

Thomas hung the phone up, you sat on the desk for a couple of minutes before hopping down and heading back into the public space. Nicolas looked like he was already writing his last will and testament. Bless his heart you thought, his pub was a lovely one; maybe you could have him spared since he had spoken up to the man.

“Stop, calm down..I won’t let Thomas go this far”

You said while pointing around the pub, the Marquis was a lovely pub and you loved talking to Nicolas.

“Your all too kind to be in this town”

“I know..”

You stood in the front driveway, just standing there for a bit while look around at the cars to see whose missing. He was..great. But it wasn’t all bad at least you knew Ada was there. Oh how you loved talking to Ada, she could understand the feeling of being a Shelby and having eyes on you as soon as you left the home.

You still were getting used to the Arrow Head House, it was a bit bigger than your childhood home. You’d moved in a week after being with him. He wanted to be able to watch you more than anything. Possessive little fucker.

“_______, where on earth have you been?”

“Ada! Oh it’s so good to see you!”

Ada opened her arms and walked over to you, giving a big hug.

“Whatcha’ got in that bag?”

She asked while pointing to it.

“Whiskey and red wine”

“Did yah buy it?” Ada started to walk into the hallway making a signal to follow. “You know Thomas doesn’t like when his woman buys things for him that he can get for himself..”

Pausing and placing the brown bag with the bottles in it on one of the hallways side tables.

“That’s the fing’ i got ‘em on the house”

“How did ya’ fuckin’ do that?”

“Thomas didn’t say anything about my whereabouts?”

Ada rolled her eyes and crossed her arms.

“That’s the fing’ you know they don’t tell me anythinf”

Sighing you picked up the bag and pulled out the wine bottle.

“We can mull it over with this, because yah gonna need it.”

“Alrigh’ I’ll be in the den waiting for you..”

Time passes by and eventually you come down the grand staircase in a set of nightwear that had been embroidered with little roses. Thomas got it for you. You joined Ada in the den.

How many of ‘em left?”

“Obviously, Thomas but John, Arthur, Finn, Micheal, Isaiah and Jonny Dogs..”

Ada took a sip of wine, letting it mull over in her mouth.

“What fuckin’ happened?”

You smiled and held I finger up while taking a sip of wine as well.

"I was at the Marquis, fetching the whiskey and wine, and while I was waiting, some drunkard named Lenny Davis started pestering me. I felt utterly disgusted with myself because I could have called out for help. But he took me for a prostitute and kept pushing, relentless. It wasn't until Nicholas returned and shouted that I was a Kimber and a Shelby associate, that Lenny finally backed off."

Ada’s eyes went wide for a moment, before she took another sip of wine.

“Yeah, he’s fucked..”

“You swear they didn’t say anything to you before they left?”

“_______, honey I love you a lot but I told you what I know..which is nothin’..”

Ada stood up and held her finger up before the wine glass down and disappearing into the hallway, you heard her rumbling footsteps as she came back to eyesight. She had a small pink little box with a ribbon tied in a bow around it and it was white.

"Oh, how could I forget. Your father paid a visit earlier to leave a gift for you. He stayed for a little while but then left with them once Tommy got off the phone wit’ yah.”

Ada handed you the box and you placed it by your side.

“He joined them…?”

“I know right, it felt odd seeing ‘em all, for one reason..it looked like a circus act watchin’ pile into the car”

Suddenly you heard the unique sound of an engine purring, Ada and you froze. Looking at eachother’s eyes, both standing up. Ada picked the bottle up and poured the rest of the wine into both glasses.

“I knew this bottle wasn’t going to last this night..”

You heard the car doors shutting.

“Please don’t let there be a lot of blood on their clothes”

Ada rolled her eyes while setting the glass down.

“_______, honey I love you but you always ask for the obvious to not happen.”

“Are you sayin’ I can’t have hope?”

“Hope isn’t a thing if you’re a Shelby”

The grand entrance doors opened with help from the maids. The footsteps only got louder and louder as they all made their way to the den. You looked down at the carpet, then where they would be coming from.

"Don’t you dare come into this room! I do not want blood on my carpets! You and your lot can clean yourselves up outside first!"

Thomas spoke up with a small laugh.

"We weren't planning on bringing him in there, love. Don't worry, we'll sort it out elsewhere."

"You brought him into our home?! Look at the state of you!” then it finally registered that this man was in your home "YOU BROUGHT HIM INTO OUR HOME?!" you hissed, your eyes wide with alarm as you glanced nervously at the bloodstained men entering the house.

This man was..roughened up while they were on their way to Arrow Head..he wasn’t dead but he just..there. The smell of iron started to fill the air causing you to cough a little. Alarm bells rang through your head when you looked at Thomas..his were shaking a bit, knuckles were bloodstained. Your father stepped through the group as his looked at your face, he could tell you were afraid. Kimber fixed his shirt collar. Drenched in sweat, god it looked disgusting. Thomas spoke up and a dry voice.

"My love... he hurt you. He chose death for doing so."

"Get him out of here, Thomas! I won't have you bringing that violence into our home!" You hissed at him , your voice trembling with anger and fear.

"I'm just protecting you. None of this would be possible without me by your side."

"That's not the point, Thomas! I can't bear to watch a man die in front of me, especially not like this!"

"Alright boys, take ‘em to the basement. turning to look at the empty wine bottle and then Ada. Ada, I recommend you leave me alone with _______”

Thomas stood in the dimly lit room, the weight of his actions hanging heavy in the air. His love, shaken and wide-eyed, had just seen the aftermath of his brutal world—a world he had always tried to shield them from. The tension was palpable, the room thick with the scent of blood and the echoes of violence. Seeing the fear and distress etched on their face, Thomas felt a pang of guilt. He stepped closer, his movements slow and deliberate, his eyes never leaving yours. “Hey,” he murmured, his voice low and soothing, a stark contrast to the chaos around them. “Look at me.”

"All I ever wanted was to protect you, love. Everything I do, it's for you."

"Thomas... you frightened me. You know I can't bear seeing what those men look like after you've dealt with them."

He gently reached out, his calloused fingers brushing a stray lock of hair away from your face. With a tenderness that seemed almost out of place for the ruthless leader of the Peaky Blinders, he guided you into his arms. “It’s alright,” he whispered, cradling their head against his chest, his hand moving to stroke your hair in a rhythmic, calming motion. Thomas took a deep breath, his own heartbeat steady and reassuring. “You’re safe,” he continued, his tone firm yet comforting. “I won’t let anything happen to you. Not ever.” He paused, letting the silence stretch for a moment as he gathered his thoughts.

“I know what you saw was…horrible,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. “This life, it’s not what I wanted for you to see. But sometimes, it’s necessary.” He pulled back slightly, just enough to look into your eyes, his gaze intense and sincere. “I need you to trust me. To believe that I’m doing everything I can to protect us. To protect you.” His hand continued its soothing motion, petting your hair as he drew her even closer, creating a cocoon of intimacy amidst the chaos. “I would burn the world to the ground before I let anything happen to you,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper, yet each word resonated with fierce conviction.

In the embrace, he allowed you to lean into his strength, to find solace in the arms of a man who, despite his ruthlessness, loved you with an intensity that defied the darkness surrounding them. The world might be brutal, but in that moment, with Thomas holding you, you found a sanctuary where fear had no place. He cupped your face in his hands, his touch firm yet infinitely gentle. The roughness of his palms contrasted with the softness of your skin, a reminder of the harsh world he inhabited and the tenderness he reserved solely for you. His thumb brushed lightly over your cheek, wiping away the trace of a tear.

“Look at me,” he whispered, his voice low and steady. “I need you to know how much you mean to me. More than anything.”

With a final, reassuring stroke of your hair, he leaned in, his breath mingling with hers. The kiss was slow, deliberate, and filled with a thousand unspoken promises. His lips moved over yours with a tenderness that belied the brutal world outside, each kiss a silent vow of his love and his regret for the pain he had caused you. He poured everything into that kiss—his need to protect you, his sorrow for your distress, and the fierce love that drove him to such lengths. His hands slid to the nape of your neck, holding you gently yet securely, as if anchoring you to him in the midst of the turmoil.

When he finally pulled back, his forehead rested against yours, his breath coming in steady, calming waves. “I’m sorry you had to see that,” he murmured, his voice rough with sincerity. “But I swear to you, I’ll always be here. Always.” In that moment, surrounded by the echoes of what had happened, the kiss was a beacon of their connection, a testament to the strength of their bond amid the darkness.

Author Notes:

I made the little pictures and added smoke along with the little sparkles! Oh my gosh it’s so freaking cute!!

Please don’t harp on me for the phone number and yes it’s at the arrow house instead of the beginning of where they stay, Thomas just made bank after you became a couple.

Love yah!

[mydear-corinthian]

Protection || Thomas Shelby x reader

Synopsis: You were protecting your son, Charlie when Billy Kimber's men ambushed your shared home. Pairing: Thomas Shelby x reader Warnings: ANGST w/ comfort, reader gets injured, gun violence, mentions of blood, swearing, Grace's being mentioned once - s2 spoiler Notes: Not proofread, grammatical errors, GIF is mine Click here to find the main masterlist. Click here to find the PEAKY BLINDERS masterlist.

As another regular evening took place, a sense of peace descended over Thomas Shelby and his wife's shared home. While Tommy was busy with his business and papers, you found yourself wandering the enormous area of the estate with your young son, Charlie.

Marriage with Tommy wasn't for the faint of heart. You were highly aware of the ongoing danger that accompanied his lifestyle, the circulating threats and enemies that followed your husband's every step. Despite the obvious risks your love for him remained strong. You treasured him not as an infamous gangster, but as the man who made you feel valued, protected, and appreciated.

There was nothing but silence in the huge home; you could hear the clock ticking and the curtains flapping as the breeze shook the cloth. It was a Saturday night, so the maids weren't working, leaving you and Charlie alone. Charlie's eyelids were going drowsy as you cuddled him, softly caressing his back and humming his favorite lullaby. Looking at the clock, you realized how late it was, and Tommy hadn't returned home yet.

You heard the main entrance door open with a loud bang. Although it seemed strange, you assumed Tommy was just returning from a stressful day at work. Charlie woke up from his sleep and let out a loud cry when you heard gunfires as you were ready to leave your shared room. You were so terrified that you thought your legs were paralyzed. Without wasting any time, you grabbed Charlie and put his little body against your shoulder, giving him a tight hug.

With Charlie in one hand, you dashed to the door, locked it almost instantly, and took out the Enfield No. 2 six-bullet handgun that your husband had given you as a birthday present from the nightstand's drawer. You grab the gun and duck into the shared bedroom's bathroom, shutting the door behind you.

The room was filled with the sound of the little Shelby's piercing cries, which seemed to come from every corner. You tried so hard to soothe him, cooing softly, but all it did was make his cries louder and more echoing through the walls. As you tried to calm him, your hands trembled with fear and your fingers stuttering, a sign of your growing terror running down your face. You felt powerless in the face of Charlie's constant tears, and you started to search for a way out of the mess.

You started nervously to pray while holding a child in your arms. Tears were beginning to fall from your eyes and the prayers were mumbling on your lips.

Charlie and you were found by whoever was in your shared room as you heard the door slam. Breathless, you lowered your son onto the empty, shallow bath tub behind you and spoke to him to stop crying. and that you will return quickly. When the toilet door opened, two armed men in a hideous black suit and a top hat appeared; they were Billy Kimber workers.

One of the armed men circled around you and exclaimed, "Aye look, it's Mrs. Shelby," as you aimed your handgun at him, your hands shaking with terror. You've never been skilled with a gun. Tommy giving you a gun like that surprised you. He would not stop stating, "You'll use that in the future."

and perhaps the future was today.

"Suprised a Shelby doesn't know how to use a gun. How about we gift Thomas Shelby the lifeless body of his dear wife?" the man laughed. You raised the gun without thinking, your hand steady from the rush of adrenaline pumping through you, and took aim at the man's skull. The bullet cracked sharply and shot out of the barrel, piercing the air and hitting its target with terrifying accuracy. With a bleak proof to your determination, fortune smiled on you as the bullet hit accurate, plunging into the man's forehead with fatal force and instantly taking his life.

Attempting to fire another shot to the other man, you missed.

Suddenly, you heard a bang go off but paid no mind. Attempting to shoot again, you finally succeded; three bullets all over the now lifeless man's torso. The sight of the lifeless bodies made you feel sick but you chose to ignore it as you dropped your used gun to go and grab Charlie and ask for help. You grabbed your son right away, immediately hugging him and kissed his little forehead.

Suddenly, you heard a familiar voice calling out your name; Tommy.

His voice reaching out for you made you sigh with relief. Your husband ran toward you as your legs found their way to the stairs to return to him. You embraced him, resting your head on his chest and taking in his manly scent as you exhaled. "Oh god, Tommy.."

She took Charlie out of your arms and gave you a minute to rest in Tommy's calming presence in Polly's comforting presence. Tommy's hand gently cradled the back of your head as you leaned into him, seeking solace from the chaos of the moment in his gentle, comforting touch. His voice, a comforting whisper that passed through the chaos, whispered, "You're safe now, love."

He felt a warm wetness on his dark blue vest, making him break the hug to see what it was.

Tommy's eyes widened in fear at what he saw, and he let out a gasp. Once an image of elegance, your immaculate white evening gown now had a scarlet stain of blood creeping across it, the color standing out against the fabric. The room seemed to spin in a dizzying twister, threatening to paralyze you as the color faded from your face, your face was pale and your vision seemed to spin like a twister.

"Did you get shot?" he worriedly asked. Confused by his question, you looked down at your stomach, seeing the color red slowly colonizing your white evening gown.

"I - I um.. Tommy, I feel dizzy.." your fragile legs gave up, his strong arms catched you almost immediately.

Your eyes were starting to drop, your body was slowly getting cold, your muscles giving up.

"T - Tommy, why is so cold..?"

Fuck, he mentally cursed at the sight that met his eyes. It was as if God had judged him once more. Grace - this seemed so familiar. His fingers were shaking with fear and worry, his eyes were beginning to water, and his heart had stopped.

"We need a medic!" Polly shouted.

He tries to calm himself down by caressing the strands of your hair before tucking it behind your ear. "Please, stay." he begged.

His frustration was boiling over and his impatience was burning in the way he spoke. He gave orders for the medics with a strong edge to his voice, desperation and anger infusing each word as he demanded their immediate presence.

"Tommy.." you softly called his name before darkness took you.

Your stomach hurt and your brain throbbed when you woke up. Beside you, you noticed your husband uncomfortably sleeping on the wooden chair. You noticed that the ash tray on the table stand next to you was filled with used cigarettes, indicating that you had been out for a while. You were trying to sit up and Tommy woke up to the sound of your pained moans. His bright blue eyes met yours. Eyebags developed under his eyes as a result of struggling to sleep due to the chance that you wouldn't wake up anymore.

"Easy, love." he said.

In an attempt to prevent him from harming you, he cradled your back so you could lie down peacefully once more—as though you were a piece of glass that would shatter the moment it was touched.

He deeply blames himself for what happened to you. If only he was there that night. If only he went home early, you and Charlie wouldn't be in this situation.

"Where's Charlie?" you asked right away, your eyes looking everywhere in the room to see if your child was there or not.

"He's with Aunt Pol, (y/n). He's safe with her, don't worry."

With both of his hands clasped around yours, he sobbed out loud in front of you, unable to stop himself from crying. He felt responsible, guilty, and like a terrible partner for failing to give you protection.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry.." he cried as he apologized, kissing your hands.

You smiled softly as you placed your right hand on his face for him to look at you.

"It's not your fault, Tommy. The good thing is that me and Charlie are safe." reassuring, you gave him a weak smile.

"I thought I lost you." he exhaled in exhaustion, standing up as he kissed your head.

"I would never leave you, Tommy."

"Please don't."

[iluvzaddies]

drunk confession

pairing: thomas shelby x reader

warnings: alcohol consumption, slight nsfw

summary: thomas shelby walks into your bedroom in the middle of the night and confesses his love for you.

you awoke from your slumber after hearing the door to your room suddenly open in the middle of the night.

you felt your heart pound through your chest, scared that it was one of billy kimber’s men, ordered to harm you as a way to get back at the peaky blinders.

but you needn’t fret for it was only thomas shelby.

thomas was the leader of birmingham’s renowned gang, the peaky blinders, and the second eldest son of the shelby family.

you knew him when he was a young lad. he used to be a troublemaker, always bringing trouble everywhere he went. he laughed a lot too.

you, on the other hand, used to be a loner. you didn’t have a single friend whatsoever. you were always alone, a sad look plastered on your face as you watched other kids getting along and playing with each other. young tommy felt bad for you, therefore, offered to let you play with him and his siblings. from then on, you became close and formed a bond, not only with him, but with his siblings too.

it was sad how much things have changed after the war in france.

the horrors of the war had changed him drastically.

he became a soulless, empty shell.

but there was one thing that didn’t change, and that was his feelings for you.

he always felt a sense of peace whenever you were around. you were a breath of fresh air and a reminder of his childhood days, where he hadn’t gone to the war yet, where he didn’t live a life of crime, where everything was normal.

he didn’t want to admit it, though. he was never good at expressing himself…

…until tonight.

“tommy!” you gasped. “why are you here?”

“because i can.” he said nonchalantly.

“just because you can doesn’t mean you should.” you huffed in frustration.

he shrugged.

“how did you get in my house?”

“key under your doormat.” he drawled, approaching you drunkenly.

you let out a squeak as he collapsed on your bed, nearly crushing your legs.

“okay, congratulations for knowing where i keep my house key, but that doesn’t give you the right to just barge in my house.” you looked at the clock on your wall, checking the time. “especially at three in the morning, you dimwit!”

“‘m sorry… it’s just… i’ve been thinking about you.. a lot– actually, an unhealthy amount. i couldn’t help it. i just wanted to see you again.”

“what?” you blinked.

“you heard me.”

“yes, i did, but…” that was unexpected. “what exactly do you mean by that?”

“by god, woman.” he sat up and you flinched when he started to yell. “how fucking oblivious are you? i’m in love with you, for fuck’s sake!–“

you covered his mouth, shushing him, trying to get him to calm down. you were already dealing with a drunk thomas, who barged into your home uninvited, and the last thing you wanted was to deal with noise complaints from your neighbors.

“please, quiet down, will you?”

he grabbed your wrist, prying your hand off his mouth and guiding your hand to his cheek. he closed his eyes, sighing in bliss, reveling in the warmth of your touch.

“tommy.” you muttered under your breath.

“i mean it, (y/n). i love you. i’ve loved you ever since we were kids.”

was it true?

was it really true?

well, you were aware of the saying: “drunk words are sober thoughts”

and that made your face heat up.

“i–“ you gulped, trying to build up the courage to confess, so he didn’t think it was one-sided. “–i love you too, tommy. i’ve loved you ever since you offered to let me play with you when i had no one to play with.” you moved your thumb up and down his cheekbone. “you may be a dangerous gangster to the world, but you’re just tommy to me. my tommy. you think you’ve changed, but deep inside, that innocent, kind-hearted little boy is still there.”

thomas’ lips curved up, a genuine smile on his face.

you widened your eyes.

it had been so long since he smiled in such a way that you had forgotten just how beautiful it was.

he leaned towards your face and connected your lips together. you were caught off guard, but happily obliged and kissed him back.

he tasted like a mix of cigarettes and whisky. nonetheless, it was amazing.

he tilted his head, deepening the kiss. he entwined your fingers together and with his other hand, he pulled your body against his.

he proceeded to gently place you on your back, with him on top of you, not breaking the kiss for a second.

“fuck, i love you.” he said in between kisses. “i love you so much. i’ve been dreaming about this moment my whole life.“

he roamed his hands around your body whilst you raked yours through his hair.

he pulled away just to get a quick glimpse of your messy appearance before reconnecting your lips.

he slithered a hand under your nightgown and you moaned as his fingers made contact with your clothed clit, rubbing it through your undergarment until a wet patch formed.

he moved your nightgown up to your stomach, fiddling with the elastic band of your undergarment, and yanked it off. he reached down to touch your bare pussy, inserting two fingers inside. with how wet you were, he was able to put them in with ease.

your moans were becoming louder each time he thrusted and curled his fingers against your walls, so you clasped a hand on your mouth to prevent any more noise from spilling out.

he stopped and demanded, “no, let me hear.”

“my neighbors–“

“if they even think about coming here and ruining this, i’ll fucking send them six feet under.”

he scooted backwards, placing his head in between your legs. you could feel his hot breath hitting your core and your core clenched. he darted his tongue out, licking a long stripe up your clit, before attaching his entire mouth onto it. he sucked harshly, eating you out like he was a man starved, making your eyes roll back at the insane amount of pleasure he was giving you.

your vision turned white as the coil inside of you intensified into a powerful ball of energy. and then it bursted, the ecstasy setting all your nerves ablaze.

it felt good, so so good.

he crawled back on top of you, kissing you, letting you taste yourself.

then, he pulled away once more to admire his work.

he loved the way you looked beneath him.

how swollen your lips were.

how breathless you were.

how red your cheeks were.

he loved knowing that your current appearance was caused by him and only him. rightfully so.

“all for me, eh?”

his deep, sultry voice sent shivers down your spine.

“all for you, tom.”

note: help, my unexperienced ass doesn’t fucking know how to write nsfw content. this is so bad.

[strxngewitch02]

ALL I WANTED | PART TWO.

• Pairing: Tommy Shelby x Fem!Reader.

•Song: All I wanted by Paramore.

•Word count: 13.4K (I can explain- )

•Summary: (Based off of Season One Episode 2 & 3!)

A continuation from part one!

You've been in love and best friends with Tommy ever since you were kids, and when he came back from the war in France he has been cold and distant from you.

Wanting to be close with him again you put yourself at risk to try and help him with business with Billy Kimber.

Basically, you're like Grace in this story but with a few twists! I also changed up my writing style so there's going to be no "y/n" in this!

+ WARNINGS: SA attempt by Billy Kimber so please be careful of reading, and also smut.. just pure smut, but with built up plot :P

ALL OF CONTENT BELONGS TO STEVEN KNIGHT /NETFLIX PEAKY BLINDERS.

—

***

It was the next day, as you approached the racecourse, a wave of exhilaration washed over you, mingling with the scent of freshly cut grass and the distant sound of cheering crowds. Sneaking in wasn’t as daunting as you’d anticipated; the thrill of the illicit made your heart race. The atmosphere was charged, a chaotic blend of excitement and tension that hung thick in the air. In a place like this—a vibrant race track teeming with gamblers and the frenetic energy of the Shelby Home and Betting shop—you quickly realized it was practically a lawless realm. Billy Kimber’s infamous tracks were notorious for their high stakes and even higher tempers. Choosing the back entrance felt like a clever move, offering a sense of safety in the shadows, where your presence went unnoticed.

Buying a new dress had been a considerable challenge, fraught with the weight of your mother’s relentless reminders to save your shillings. Since childhood, her voice echoed in your mind, a mantra of thriftiness that tugged at your conscience. But working odd jobs for the Shelby family had finally paid off, allowing you to set aside enough to splurge on something special. As you stood before the mirror, your breath caught at the sight. You hoped you hadn’t gone overboard, but the moment felt monumental. The dress—a stunning black flapper number—draped over you like a second skin, its ruffled sleeves and plunging V-neck accentuating your curves with an effortless elegance. The soft fabric whispered against your skin, and the delicate ribbon tie cinched your waist, giving you a silhouette that made you feel both confident and daring.

You adorned yourself with your mother’s cherished pearl necklace, the cool beads resting against your collarbone, paired with matching earrings that caught the light with every movement. Your hair was meticulously styled, framing your face and adding a touch of sophistication. As you stepped out, the transformation felt profound; you were no longer just you but a vision of glamor, ready to take on the world.

As you navigated through the packed hallways, the vibrant energy enveloped you like a warm embrace. The parlor was alive with the intoxicating sounds of jazz music, each note swirling through the air like a delicate dance. Couples glided across the polished floor, lost in the rhythm, their laughter mingling with the music. The soft glow of chandeliers illuminated the room, casting a golden hue over the dancers, who wore smiles that radiated pure joy. You caught glimpses of men in sharp suits, their cigars clutched between fingers, while others leaned casually against the bar, their glasses filled with amber liquid that glimmered in the light.

In this glamorous setting, you felt a flicker of self-doubt—a brief moment of incongruity amid the elegance surrounding you. Yet, as you glanced at your reflection in a nearby polished mirror, the spark of confidence ignited within you. You looked sexy, and that was a bonus you were determined to embrace.

Your gaze flickered around the bustling parlor, finally landing on Billy Kimber, who sat with an air of arrogant confidence at a table surrounded by his men, a crystal flute of champagne in hand. The scene was almost absurd—this man reveled in luxury while his diligent accountant toiled away, managing the chaos that Kimber seemed to shrug off. As you maneuvered through the crowd, you felt the weight of Kimber’s intense gaze boring into you, a heat that lingered at the back of your head, impossible to ignore. It was unnerving; but you had captured his attention, and now you just needed to…

Before you could plot your next move, a firm, warm grip encircled your arm, pulling you gently to the side. Instinctively, your body pressed against a solid form, the warmth of their hand settling possessively on your waist. You turned, and your breath caught as you locked eyes with Tommy Shelby. His icy blue gaze sent a jolt of electricity through you, a tumultuous mix of excitement and anxiety swirling in your chest.

Oh shit. Tommy…

The thought echoed in your mind as you struggled to swallow the lump forming in your throat. “You better have a fucking good explanation for why you’re here,” he said, his voice calm yet charged with gravelly tension. His expression was a blend of annoyance and something more complex, a vexation that hinted at deeper concerns. As he began to sway with you to the music, the proximity was intoxicating, the heat between you both palpable.

Every fiber of your being was acutely aware of him—the way his presence seemed to command the space, how his grip felt both protective and dangerously intimate. You could feel your heart racing, a wild rhythm that matched the beat of the music surrounding you. This was more than just an encounter; it was a delicate dance on the edge of a knife, a collision of desire and danger. You fought to steady your breathing, knowing you had to tread carefully. This wasn’t merely about slipping into the scene unnoticed; it was about navigating the intricate web of emotions that tangled around you, especially in the presence of Tommy Shelby. Caught between fear and longing, you realized that tonight could change everything.

Quickly regaining your composure, you let the moment carry you as his hand shifted from your arm to grasp your palm. You felt the warmth of his skin seep into yours, an intoxicating connection that sent a shiver down your spine as you continued to dance amidst the swirling crowd. “Actually, I do,” you countered, your expression defiant, lips curling into a faint frown. “I just wanted to help you.” Your voice softened, and your eyes locked onto his, searching for a flicker of understanding.

It didn’t take long for Tommy to piece together how you had discovered his whereabouts. “Well, for one, you need to learn how to keep your ears out of my business,” he stated firmly, his stern gaze unwavering. “You need to leave; it’s not a good time.” The weight of his words hung heavily in the air, yet there was an underlying tension that both thrilled and terrified you.

God, it was hard to concentrate when he stood so close, his body radiating warmth against yours. The faint scent of cigarettes mixed with something uniquely Tommy, making your head spin. You couldn’t help but admire how handsome he looked, the dark gray suit tailored perfectly to his form, making his striking blue eyes pop even more. He had shaved, his jawline sharp and defined, giving him an air of refreshment that only added to your growing attraction.

But beneath the surface of your admiration lay a deeper turmoil. You felt torn between the desire to be near him and the fear of the dangers that surrounded him. Your heart raced not just from the dance but from the unspoken connection simmering between you. Each moment felt like a precarious balance, a delicate dance of vulnerability and defiance. You longed to reach out and pull him closer, to bridge the gap between the worlds you inhabited, but the tension in his expression held you back.

“Tommy,” you said softly, your voice barely above the music, a thread of vulnerability woven into your tone. “I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t care.” The sincerity in your words surprised you, a deep-seated need to connect cutting through the tension. You wanted him to see that your intentions were genuine, that you were willing to face the risks to stand by him.

In that moment, as the crowd surged around you and the music pulsed like a heartbeat, you realized this wasn’t just a chance encounter. It was a turning point, a moment that could shift everything for you. The thrill of uncertainty blended with a flicker of hope, igniting a fire in your chest that urged you to take a leap. You wanted to connect, to show him that you were more than just an outsider; you were someone who understood the stakes, willing to fight for a place in his world.

A glare formed on your features as you gazed up at Tommy, resolute in your purpose. “I am not leaving,” you replied sharply, your voice unwavering.

“You don’t get to make that decision…” He snapped, leaning closer, his face inches from yours. You could feel his warm breath brushing against your skin, sending a rush of adrenaline through you. “I mean it, love. This is not the time.” His tone grew increasingly frustrated, yet he maintained a semblance of control as he gently guided you toward a quieter corner at the back, the noise of the crowd fading into a distant hum.

“Tommy, I’m not going anywhere,” you declared, your voice firm as you followed him. But when you realized he was leading you toward the back exit, you halted in your tracks, your heart racing. He stopped too, letting out a deep sigh, his jaw clenched tightly. His eyes bore into yours, searching, challenging.

“Ever since France, with the coppers and that inspector—now the Lee family and Billy Kimber? You’ve been acting strange, pulling these dangerous stunts without involving me anymore. You know I can handle myself. I’ve helped run this business with Polly ever since you and Arthur and John left for France. And now you come back and shut me out? What’s different about now?” Your throat burned with the intensity of your words, each syllable echoing your frustration and hurt.

“We came back. That’s what changed.” Tommy replied curtly, pulling slightly away, his hands resting over your biceps, the grip both firm and possessive. “This is business between me and Kimber. I’m telling you now, this isn’t the time to get involved.” He growled slightly, a mix of anger and something deeper threading through his voice, his hold tightening on your arms.

You could sense the tension simmering between you, a cocktail of frustration and concern swirling in the air. You couldn’t tell if he was genuinely infuriated or merely protective, but his intensity sent your heart racing. This was the first time in a long while that he had shown he cared, the vulnerability of the moment stark against the backdrop of your conflict.

But no matter the reason for his anger, you stood your ground, refusing to back down.

“Tommy, you’re not the only one who gets to decide what’s dangerous,” you shot back, your pulse quickening as the space between you felt charged. “I’m here, and I deserve to know what’s going on. You may think you can protect me, but I’m not fragile. I’m part of this, too.”

The air between you crackled, each heartbeat amplifying the tension. His eyes searched yours, and for a fleeting moment, the world around you faded away. It was just you and him, caught in a storm of emotions that could either pull you apart or bring you closer together.

Shaking your head, you held onto your defiant expression, narrowing your eyes slightly. “Let me help you, Tommy. At least let me pretend to be your date to impress Billy Kimber. I’m already here, and he’s seen me.” Your heart constricted in your chest, a mix of fear and determination coursing through you. You both were far too stubborn; one of you had to break.

Tommy’s gaze pierced through you, steely and unyielding, as if he were dissecting your very thoughts. The intensity of his stare sent a shiver down your spine, making you acutely aware of how much he commanded the space around him. You could see the internal battle within him, a flicker of acknowledgment that you were right. Billy did have an interest in you, and that realization hung heavily in the air.

After a long, tense silence, he finally spoke. “Fine.” His voice was low and gravelly, a reluctant concession that felt more like a threat than an agreement. He glanced at his pocket watch, then back at you, his expression unreadable, as if he were weighing your worth against the dangers that surrounded him. “Stay by the bar. I’ll come back and get you.” As he intertwined his fingers with yours, a rush of warmth spread through you, grounding you in the moment despite the swirling chaos around you. It was a simple gesture, yet it sent your heart racing. You felt a mix of elation and anxiety as he led you toward the bar, your pulse quickening at the thought of being part of his world, even if only for a moment.

You could feel the stakes rising, the weight of the situation pressing down on both of you. There was an unspoken acknowledgment that this wasn’t just about the game with Kimber; it was about your place in Tommy’s world. As he released your hand, the warmth lingered, and you couldn’t shake the feeling that the night held more than just danger—it held the potential for something deeper.

He left you alone for only a moment, and you watched intently as he navigated through the crowd, two bulging bags slung over his shoulder. You assumed they were filled with shillings—money that the Lee family must have pilfered from Billy Kimber’s races. How on earth had he managed to get his hands on that? The enigma of Tommy Shelby always left you in awe, a mystery wrapped in layers you longed to unravel. For now, all you could do was watch, a role you had grown accustomed to throughout your life. Observing was what you did best.

Your gaze remained fixed on Tommy as he casually approached Kimber’s table, a confident swagger in his stride. He dumped the contents of the bags onto the table with a clatter, coins spilling out in a shimmering cascade. Kimber’s initial surprise morphed quickly into a look of perplexity, then annoyance. Tommy settled into the seat across from him, his movements fluid and assured as he pulled out a cigarette, the gesture almost casual yet laced with an underlying tension. You could only assume he was continuing the negotiations that had begun in the garrison yesterday, a dance of power that seemed to electrify the air around them.

You felt the weight of their exchange draw you in, but your attention faltered when you realized Kimber had caught you watching. A flicker of recognition passed between you, and you quickly turned away, the heat of embarrassment rising to your cheeks. With a deep sigh, you accepted a glass of champagne from the bartender, the cool crystal a contrast to the warmth building in your chest.As you take a sip, the bubbles tickle your throat, and you let the effervescence distract you from the tension that hangs in the air.

The entire situation was aggravating. You couldn’t shake off Tommy’s words—We came back. That’s what changed. A part of you sensed there was more beneath the surface, a depth to his statement that he wasn’t revealing. What an enigma Tommy Shelby was, a man cloaked in secrets and shadows, leaving you both intrigued and frustrated.

Lost in your thoughts, you were suddenly jolted from your daze by a hand brushing against your lower back. You turned to find Tommy standing there, taking a final drag from his cigarette before extinguishing it in the white glass ashtray before him. He seemed utterly unfazed, his demeanor calm and collected, yet something in his presence made your pulse quicken.

“What happened?” you asked quietly, your voice barely above a whisper. He looked back at you, his expression stoic and unreadable, as if he had mastered the art of concealing his thoughts.

“So listen, uh, we’re going to dinner at Kimber’s house,” he said casually, tilting his head slightly as if it were the most ordinary of announcements. He glanced down for a moment, avoiding your gaze, which only piqued your interest further. It felt like he was holding something back, a decision made without your involvement.

You leaned in slightly, trying to catch a glimpse of what lay behind his nonchalance. “Why now?” you pressed, your heart racing as you sought answers. The tension in the air felt electric, charged with unspoken questions and unresolved feelings.

Tommy shrugged slightly, his tone indifferent. “It’s business. Nothing more.” His words hung between you, but the way he said them felt like a barrier, keeping you at arm’s length. You searched his face for any hint of vulnerability, but he remained a fortress, unmoved by the weight of the moment.

“He has a place a couple of miles away,” Tommy continued, finally meeting your gaze. But even then, his expression remained unreadable, a mask of stoicism that made your heart race with unease. “I have some business to settle with the accountant first, so you go on ahead with Kimber.”

Your heart sank, the weight of his words pressing down on you. A pit of dread settled in your stomach, quickly igniting into a flare of anger. You never imagined that your best friend—the man you had loved since childhood—would so casually offer you up like this. “You’re not coming? Just going to leave me alone with Kimber?” Your voice wavered, hurt lacing your tone as you held his gaze, desperate for any flicker of empathy.

“Yeah…” Tommy replied, his voice flat, as if he were stating an inevitable fact. “Until I’m done here… Is that alright?” The nonchalance in his tone was like a slap, leaving you feeling even more isolated. It felt as if he was expecting you to accept this without question, casting you into a role you never asked for.

The sting of betrayal cut deep. How could he be so indifferent to your feelings? You had wanted to help him, to stand by his side as he faced whatever darkness loomed ahead. But this? This was not what you envisioned. You fought the urge to lash out, the emotional turmoil boiling just beneath the surface.

Setting your champagne glass down with a sharp clink, you took a steadying breath. “When I said I wanted to help, I didn’t think you would pimp me out…” The words felt heavy, and though you tried to keep your voice calm, the tremor revealed your pain.

“What did you expect?” Tommy sighed, irritation creeping into his tone. The tension radiating from him was almost palpable, a wall he had built that left you feeling small and vulnerable. “You said you wanted to help me. And if you want to help me, you’re going to have to sharpen up.” His jaw clenched, and he briefly glanced at Kimber and his accountant, who were waiting with impatience, their eyes darting between you and Tommy.

In that moment, you felt utterly exposed, torn between your loyalty to Tommy and the bitter realization that he was asking you to sacrifice your self-worth. You had envisioned standing alongside him, fighting the battles he faced, not being thrust into the shadows to play a role that felt so degrading.

As the weight of his words settled over you, the truth began to sink in: this was not just about the night ahead; it was about the trust you thought you had built over the years, now crumbling before your eyes. You stood there, grappling with the ache of betrayal, yearning for the boy who once fought for you, who once saw you as his equal. Instead, you felt like a pawn, pushed away rather than embraced, and the realization twisted deep in your gut.

“The deal is he has two hours with you, he thinks he’s a ladies man, thinks he can seduce you. Whenever you want you can kick him in the balls and be on your merry way, and I can meet you back at the garrison.” Tommy explained but you could feel your emotions on the brink of collapse. “So that’s how it’s going to be?” You asked back your eyes, searching for any sign of hesitation or worry or honestly anything within his features but to your disappointment you couldn’t find anything.

“You wanted to be involved, and you chose to stay. You could have walked out when I told you to, but you didn’t. If you want to help me, you need to understand that sacrifices are necessary.” Tommy’s voice was cold, leaving no room for argument. He turned away, the air thick with unresolved tension as he walked out with Kimber’s accountant, leaving you alone with Kimber, whose gaze felt predatory, making your skin crawl.

In that moment, a wave of despair washed over you. The betrayal stung, sharper than any physical wound. You had poured your heart into him, believing that your love could bridge the gap between your dreams and his ambitions. But now, faced with the stark reality, you felt like a ghost haunting the edges of his life, invisible and unwanted.

You took a shaky breath, trying to gather the fragments of your shattered trust. Each heartbeat echoed the truth: you had been right all along. Tommy had never truly seen you; you were merely a placeholder in his world, eclipsed by his relentless pursuit of success. The realization crushed you, leaving an ache in your chest that felt insurmountable.

As Kimber’s gaze bore into you, a mix of anger and heartache twisted within. You felt abandoned, longing for a connection that had never been reciprocated. The dreams you once cherished felt like distant memories, slipping through your fingers like sand. Maybe, in the end, he really didn’t care about you at all. You were left grappling with the painful truth: the love you had for him was not enough to keep him by your side, and now you were just a shadow of what might have been, lost and alone.

***

***

The ride to Billy Kimber’s house felt like an eternity, each passing moment stretched thin by his incessant chatter. It took every ounce of restraint in your body to keep your mouth shut, fighting the urge to stuff a sock in his mouth to silence his bragging about his accomplishments and his eagerness to show off his extravagant home.

Regret gnawed at you like a persistent ache. You couldn’t shake the feeling that Tommy had been right all along—that you should have listened to his warnings. The memory of him offering you up so easily stung like a fresh wound. What was he trying to prove? Was this some twisted form of punishment? The questions spiraled in your mind, each “why-” echoing louder than the last, leaving you feeling more lost and frustrated.

“Ever been to a house as big as this, hm?” His obnoxious voice jolted you from your thoughts. You stood by the window, refusing to turn and meet Kimber’s gaze as he approached with a drink in hand. The arrogance in his tone was palpable, and you could almost feel it pressing against your skin, making you consider the absurdity of throwing yourself out of the window just to escape his presence.

Your disinterest was glaringly obvious, yet Kimber, blissfully ignorant, continued to prattle on. “Don’t see why that matters,” you replied, your voice flat and detached, keeping your eyes trained on the scenery outside. Wow, that tree sure looked interesting over there. It was a stark contrast to the chaotic mess of emotions swirling inside you, a welcome distraction from the reality of being trapped in this situation.

The hairs on your neck stood up as you felt his hands on your shoulders instantly flipping you around forcing you to meet his gaze, your heart began to race from your chest, your eyes widening slightly. “I love my women feisty..Especially when they have such a bloody hot body such as yours.” He murmured with a grin on his lips as he grabbed your face in his hands forcing his lips against yours causing a muffled yelp to spill from your lips but you didn’t hesitate to bite down on his bottom lip causing him to pull back with a pained groan holding his lip. “You fucking bit me? You bitch!” He cursed at you completely livid, but you remained rigid in your spot, your gaze piercing at him.

“Yeah? I’m a bitch and your dick is small.” You snarled back but without any warning Billy lunged at you causing you to stumble to the side trying to get away only for your body to be slammed against the pool table feeling sharp pain shoot throughout your lower back as you scrambled to fight this man off of you. “You need to be taught some fucking manners.” He hissed in your ear as he pinned you down against the table with one hand holding your wrists, while the other was pulling up your dress making your stomach sink. “Get the fuck off of me!” You shouted as you continued to squirm before managing to slip your hand out from his grasp and jabbed your fingers into his eyes making him scream out in pain causing him to back off for a moment giving you an opportunity to slip both of your hands out and kicked him in the balls making him double over with a groan.

As swiftly as he released you, your instincts kicked in, urging you to dart toward the door. But just as you lunged forward, it swung open to reveal a breathless Tommy, and you froze, heart pounding in your chest. The shock of his sudden appearance hit you like a jolt, mixing with the adrenaline that surged through your veins, amplifying every sound and sensation. Fear and relief collided within you, leaving you momentarily paralyzed, caught between the urgency of escape and the chaotic swirl of emotions that threatened to overwhelm you.

“What the fuck?! What the fuck are you doing here?! I still have another hour?!” Kimber shouted his face burning red as he glared daggers at you and Tommy, while slowly getting up from the ground, his hand grasping his manhood. “Just wait, and just listen to me..” Tommy spoke with wide eyes, his voice steady yet breathless, betraying the tension in the air. He raised his hand slightly, a cautious gesture meant to signal his intention to diffuse the situation, aware that Kimber might redirect his anger toward him instead. The muscles in his jaw tightened, and a flicker of apprehension crossed his face as he braced himself for the potential storm.

Instinctively you stepped to the side slowly making your way back to the door while simultaneously keeping your eyes on the two men. “I was going to let you go through with it but in the end my conscience got the better of me..” Tommy says slowly putting his hand down now both of his hands resting on his hips, as Kimber stared at him his face still scrunched up into a glare. “She looks good on the outside but.. S-she, she’s ill. Hears voices all the time and.. makes her act like a nut job, that’s why they kicked her out of the brothel.” Tommy pointed at you, and your jaw dropped in disbelief at his outrageous statement. Kimber’s face twisted in shock as he glanced over, his expression a mix of confusion and disgust. “And it doesn’t help that… she also has the claps,” Tommy concluded, throwing that ridiculous cherry on top of his lie. Offended, you felt a flush of anger rising in your chest as Kimber recoiled, avoiding you as if you were a contagious disease, while you stood there, furious and humiliated by the absurdity of it all.

No way Tommy just managed to save your life but insulted you at the same fucking time.

“I saw that you took a shine on her so I thought what the hell? And thought I used her.. Call it my better nature but I just thought you should know.” Tommy added to Kimber before approached you, lightly grabbing your arm as he said, “You go wait in the car.” His tone was authoritative, and you could hear the undercurrent of sternness in his voice. But you turned away sharply, pulling your arm back aggressively, every ounce of frustration boiling over. Without another word, you stormed out of the room, leaving him behind, and didn’t bother to wait for his reaction.

Once outside, you felt the weight of your anger propel you forward, each step away from the house stoking the flames of your fury. Your blood boiled with each stride, your heart pounding fiercely in your chest, almost making you dizzy. You flung yourself into the car, slamming the door with a force that echoed your frustration. The reality of what just transpired crashed over you like a wave, your mind racing to process how everything had unraveled so quickly. The thought of what could’ve happened back there sent a shiver down your spine, and you forced yourself not to dwell on the darker possibilities.

You barely had time to collect your thoughts when you heard the car door open beside you. Tommy slid into the driver’s seat, the tension thick between you. He cleared his throat, the sound heavy with unspoken words, before starting the engine. As he drove toward the gate, the landscape blurred past, and you felt a mix of anger and confusion simmering inside, wishing you could make sense of the chaos that had just unfolded.

*** ***

The drive was enveloped in a thick, tense silence, and your anger simmered just beneath the surface. Finally, unable to contain yourself, you broke the stillness. “I hate you.” The words hung in the air, laced with hurt, as you refused to meet his gaze. Tommy didn’t respond, his eyes fixed on the road ahead, his grip on the steering wheel tightening until his knuckles turned white. The silence settled between you like a heavy fog, suffocating and raw.

A deep, shaky exhale escaped your lips as you tried to gather your thoughts. “You know… All I wanted was to be by your side. It’s always been that way since we were kids. And then fucking France happened. I waited four years for you to come back, hoping you would keep your promise.” The memories crashed over you like waves, each one more painful than the last. “And then you return, but the Tommy I knew… he’s gone. Where is the man who would smile and laugh with me? Because the man sitting next to me right now isn’t him.” Your voice trembled, the weight of your emotions rising as you noticed the familiar sights of Small Heath approaching. Each word felt like a release, a desperate plea for the connection you once had, as the distance between you felt impossibly vast.

Another deep breath escaped your lips as tears threatened to spill, but you fought to keep your gaze fixed ahead, feeling the weight of Tommy’s silence pressing down on you. No idea what he was fucking thinking. “You’re not even going to say anything?” you snapped, the bitterness in your voice surprising even yourself. A wry half-smile curled at your lips, a feeble attempt to mask the turmoil inside, while your leg bounced restlessly, dread pooling in your stomach. “First, you offered me up like some whore, and now I’m just a sicko with the claps. And you’re just… silent?”

Finally, you turned to meet Tommy’s gaze, searching desperately for any flicker of emotion, but his eyes were clouded, darkened by an unspoken storm. The silence stretched on, suffocating and heavy, and frustration gnawed at your insides like a persistent ache. You couldn’t decipher his thoughts, and that uncertainty twisted like a knife in your heart, amplifying the sense of betrayal and abandonment that had settled deep within you.

But then again, no response was a response. He wasn’t going to fight for you. As the car glided through the gritty streets of Small Heath, tears finally broke free, spilling down your cheeks. When the vehicle came to a stop in front of your home, a dry chuckle escaped your lips, a bitter sound that barely resembled laughter. “Fine…” you mumbled, the weight of your emotions crashing down as you flung open the car door and stepped out, slamming it behind you with a force that echoed your heartbreak.

“I don’t want to see you again. Don’t expect me to show up at the Garrison or the betting shop. I’m not staying here anymore. I’m done.” Your voice rose, raw and unfiltered, fueled by all the pent-up hurt and anger that had finally spilled over. Each word was a release, allowing your emotions to take control, your heart breaking a little more with every syllable, desperate to escape the pain that had become too much to bear.

When you turned away, you missed the moment Tommy finally looked at you, his gaze heavy with unspoken pain, as if you’d struck a nerve deep within him. Stepping inside your home, the familiar walls felt suffocating, a refuge turned prison. You heard his footsteps marching behind you, each step resonating like a drumbeat of dread, and before you knew it, he was inside, shutting the door with a quiet finality that echoed your own turmoil.

“No, Tommy, get out. I don’t want to fucking see you!” you exclaimed, your voice trembling with a mix of anger and heartbreak. But he stood there, a storm in human form, his bright blue eyes boring into you, exposing every raw nerve beneath your skin. In that moment, you felt completely unguarded, as if all your defenses had crumbled.

“You hate me, eh?” he growled, a rough edge to his voice that twisted something deep inside you. “If I didn’t fucking care about you, I wouldn’t have come back.” His words hung in the air, a paradox that stung like a slap, revealing the vulnerability hidden beneath his bravado.

“Yeah, you came back for a whore with the claps,” you shot back, forcing a bitter laugh that tasted like ash. The sarcasm was a flimsy shield, barely concealing the hurt that welled up inside you. You turned away again, desperate to shield yourself from his gaze, but Tommy was relentless, following you as if he could pull you back from the brink of your own despair.

In that moment, the air between you crackled with unresolved feelings—fear, longing, anger—and you both stood on the edge of something profound and terrifying, unable to escape the truth that bound you together even as it threatened to tear you apart.

“That’s not what I meant!” Tommy shouted after you, his voice raw with a mix of anger and hurt. But you kept walking, seeking refuge in your room, where the walls felt like a fragile barrier against the chaos swirling outside. “After France, I kept myfucking promise. I came back for you!” His words hung in the air, heavy with unspoken weight, desperation creeping into his tone. Suddenly, he grabbed your arm, spinning you to face him, but you instinctively whipped around your palm contacting his cheek with a hard slap.

As the palm of your hand met his cheek, a jolt of pain shot through him, and you felt it resonate deep within you. He recoiled slightly, his expression tightening in an instant, caught off guard by the force of your anger. His jaw clenched, the sting of the slap mixing with disbelief, creating a hurricane of emotions that played across his features.

His eyes flickered with a haunting blend of hurt and anger, as if he were grappling with the weight of your action and the emotions it revealed. You could see the shock transforming into something deeper—a realization that this moment marked a fracture in the fragile bond you once shared. The air between you crackled with tension, each heartbeat echoing the unspoken words that hung heavy between you. It was a moment suspended in time, raw and revealing, where both your pain and his collided, leaving an aching silence in its wake.

You couldn’t stop the tears streaming down your cheeks, each drop a testament to the turmoil inside you. Heavy breaths spilled from your lips, your body trembling slightly as the reality of what you had done crashed over you. After everything that had happened today, your instincts were locked in survival mode, your heart pounding with a mix of fear and anger.

“I did what I had to do, and I’m here now… I’m here with you, aren’t I?” Tommy’s voice was a low growl, but it only deepened the chasm between you.

“T-that doesn’t change anything, Tommy,” you shot back, your voice quaking with pain. “Today, you proved to me that everything we’ve been through was all for nothing.” The words felt like knives, your throat tightening with each syllable, the weight of your anguish making it hard to breathe.

“Y-you never cared about me! If you did, you wouldn’t have left me behind—four years ago, and even now with Billy Kimber! If you hadn’t shown up last minute, God knows what could’ve happened!” You shouted, each word laced with raw emotion, your body trembling as the memories flooded back, threatening to drown you.

Your stomach twisted in knots, the hurt and betrayal surging through you like a tidal wave. It felt as if every moment of longing, every ounce of hope had been crushed under the weight of his absence, leaving you feeling utterly exposed and vulnerable. In that moment, the room was charged with unresolved pain, your hearts colliding in a desperate struggle for understanding and connection, even as you felt worlds apart.

Tommy’s jaw tightened, muscles coiling like a spring, his fists clenching so tightly that his knuckles turned white, a physical manifestation of his inner turmoil. “You think I don’t care about you?” he spat, his eyes ablaze with a fierce mix of anger and hurt, as if your words had struck him at his core. He stepped closer, closing the distance until his face was only inches from yours, the heat radiating between you both almost palpable.

“Do you really think I didn’t care when I saw you at the races? I told you to leave because I needed you to be safe! But you’re so bloody stubborn that you couldn’t take a hint!” His voice was low and intense, each word a jagged edge, revealing just how deeply your actions affected him. “You think I didn’t care when I stopped Kimber from hurting you?!” His tone sharpened, rising with the weight of his frustration, the raw emotion spilling out in waves.

“I care about you! I’ve always cared about you, I never stopped!” He struggled to rein in his voice, the intensity softening slightly as vulnerability flickered across his features. The fire in his eyes began to dim, replaced by a haunting sincerity that made your heart ache. You could see the pain behind his anger, a deep well of feeling that he fought to keep hidden.

In that moment, it felt as if the air around you crackled with unspoken truths, both of you teetering on the brink of something profound. The tension between you was electric, filled with the weight of all the hurt and longing you had both carried, leaving you breathless and trembling, caught in a maelstrom of love and regret.

Your gaze softened as you stared at him incredulously, the silence between you growing heavy and suffocating, pressing down on your chest. He was so close that your head spun, every detail of his face etched in your mind—the fire in his eyes slowly giving way to something more tender, his lips mere inches from yours.

“Then why?” you asked, your voice dropping to a whisper, barely breaking the tense stillness. “Why do you keep me out of things and act so cold towards me?” The question hung in the air, your voice trembling, the weight of your hurt spilling into every word. You sniffled gently, trying to regain control of your ragged breathing.

“Because at the end of the day, you made your choice… I see how you see me. I understand that war changed you, that it was hell for you.” Each revelation felt like a tender wound, exposing the vulnerability you both carried. “I don’t expect you to be the same, but…” You paused, shaking your head in frustration, tears welling up despite your efforts to hold them back. “I can’t be here anymore, not with you. It hurts too much.”

The admission felt like a raw, aching truth. “It’s like no matter how hard I try to reach out to you, you just seem to pull further away from me. Clearly, nothing I do is good enough for you, or maybe I’m just not good enough for you. I don’t know anymore… You don’t need me.” A quiet sob broke free from your lips, the dam of pent-up emotions crashing down around you.

As the tears fell, you felt exposed yet strangely liberated, the weight of your feelings pressing down on you. His gaze softened, and you could see the battle within him—his desire to reach for you, to bridge the distance that had grown between you. You turned your face away, feeling embarrassed, but in that moment, the air between you crackled with a charged intimacy. It was a moment teetering on the edge, where both of you stood vulnerable, hearts laid bare, longing for connection even amidst the pain.

Tommy’s hardened expression softened when he caught the vulnerability in your eyes, a flicker of understanding passing between you. He took a deep breath, his chest rising and falling as if gathering strength, and his voice turned gentle, almost tender. “So you think you’re not what I need?”

He stepped closer, closing the distance that felt like an ocean between you. As he reached out, his hand gently cupped your cheek, drawing your blurry gaze back to his. “Have you ever considered that I don’t care about any of that?” His words wrapped around you like a warm embrace. “If you want to help me or not, I don’t care. As long as I know that you’re here, then I can keep going… alright?”

Now, both of his hands cradled your cheeks, his thumbs brushing softly over your damp skin, each touch igniting a warmth that spread through you. “I see you, love. I see how hard you try.” His gaze held yours, fierce yet tender. “I just don’t want you to see me. I was… I am scared. Scared that what you see in me now might not be what you want anymore.” The honesty in his voice made your heart ache, his vulnerability laid bare before you.

“And when I’m scared… it’s unfamiliar to you, but not for me. You can hate me, but I am not letting you go.” His voice was slightly raspy, thick with emotion, and in that moment, the air felt charged with intimacy. You could feel the weight of his fears intertwining with your own, creating a fragile bond that pulled you closer.

As you stood there, enveloped in his gaze, you realized that despite the chaos and hurt, there was a deep connection between you—one that was worth fighting for. In that shared silence, filled with understanding and longing, it felt as if time stood still, and you both held onto the hope that maybe, just maybe, love could still find its way through the cracks.

“Tommy…” you uttered his name shakily, your voice trembling as your mind struggled to process the torrent of emotions his words had unleashed within you. You wanted to believe him, but doubt clawed at your heart. What if he was just manipulating you? What if he was simply taking advantage of your feelings? After everything that had happened today, forgiveness felt like an impossible bridge to cross.

You shook your head slightly in his hands, the gesture filled with a mix of confusion and yearning. Your own hands rested gently on his chest, trying to create some distance, a barrier against the vulnerability that threatened to overwhelm you. “No… Tommy, stop… just stop…” you whispered, the softness of your voice belied by the turmoil roiling inside.

But even as you spoke, you could feel his heart beating steadily against your palm, each thump echoing the unsteady rhythm of your own. It was a tangible reminder of the connection between you, the warmth radiating from him drawing you in despite your reservations. You felt everything—the heat of his skin, the intensity of his gaze, the pulse of his heart under your fingertips—and it both comforted and terrified you.

Tommy shook his head, refusing to accept your response, a fire burning in his eyes. “I won’t stop,” he said hoarsely, stepping even closer, closing the distance until the air between you felt electric. “Not until you understand how goddamn serious I am… The moment you stepped away with Kimber, I knew I made a mistake. I shouldn’t have let that happen.”

His hands reached for you, gently gripping your chin and tilting your face to ensure your gaze stayed locked on his. As he spoke, his fingers traced the delicate line of your jaw, sending shivers down your spine. “You’re mine,” he repeated, his voice low and possessive, each word hanging in the air like a promise.

The intensity of his presence surrounded you, his thumb brushing softly across your bottom lip. Your heart skipped a beat, a jolt of electricity coursing through your body at the intimacy of the moment. You could feel the heat radiating from him, wrapping around you like a protective cocoon, and for a heartbeat, the world outside faded away.

In that gaze, you saw something raw and vulnerable, a deep longing that mirrored your own. It was as if he was offering you a glimpse into the depths of his heart, revealing a passion that he had been holding back. You felt the tension between you thickening, a palpable connection that drew you closer despite the walls you had tried to build.

“Tommy…” you breathed, feeling the weight of his words settle in your chest. The fear and doubt that had clouded your mind began to wane, replaced by the undeniable truth of your feelings. In that moment, you realized that you were standing on the precipice of something transformative, the potential for healing and understanding woven into the very air you shared.

“You belong with me. And I'm not letting you go, understand?” He leaned in closer, so close that you could feel his breath against your skin. “You try to leave, 'll follow you. You try to hide, I'll find you. You try to fight me, I'll pin you down, and make you understand that you're mine.” He says in a low tone making you walk backwards, you can tell that he can sense the change in your exterior, how you were crumbling underneath his gaze, his body pressed against yours now towering over you.

You took a few steps back until your spine pressed firmly against the wall, a quiet gasp escaping as you glanced over your shoulder, then back to him. The traces of tears on your cheeks faded into a faint blush, warmth spreading through you as your heart raced in your chest. The pressure of his body against yours sent your thoughts spinning.

You lifted your gaze, soft and flustered, meeting his eyes just inches away—close enough that your noses brushed, his warm breath grazing your lips. “I…” you stammered, struggling as your mind filled with thoughts of only him. “Do you believe me?” he whispered, his voice low and smooth, each word wrapped in velvet.

The longer you stared at him, the more real it felt—Tommy was letting his guard down with you. This was the closest you’d ever been to him, and for the first time, you could see the vulnerability, worry, and frustration swirling in his striking eyes. You had never seen him like this before. It was as though he finally felt safe with you, like he did all those years ago. “I believe you…” you replied softly, but before you could say another word, he pulled back just a little, his gaze unwavering.

His fingers traced lightly along your jaw, down to your neck, following the curve of your collarbone. You knew he could feel the rhythm of your pulse racing beneath his touch, the steady, primal beat of your heart answering to his presence.

"You have no idea what you do to me," he murmured, his voice low and velvet-smooth. He moved closer, pressing himself against you even more firmly, pinning you fully against the wall. His hand slid to your hip, his thumb grazing the soft skin exposed at the top of your dress, sending a shiver through you. Every sense was heightened, your mind hazy, caught in the warmth of his body, the intensity of his voice, and the way he held you right where he wanted you. Love and desire surrounded you completely-you were his, just as he was yours.

Your hands found their way to his biceps, fingers tracing along his muscles as you leaned into him. "Damn you, Tommy..." you muttered, voice soft, half-cursing, half-pleading. "Not letting me go... and you can't just say things like that..." The words escaped you, resistance fading as you surrendered to the moment, feeling yourself sink deeper into him, unable to fight the pull he had over you.

"You're damn right I'm not letting go," he answered, his voice a deep, possessive growl. "Trust me, from the moment I saw you... when we found each other... I knew. You've always been mine, and I don't give up what's mine." The intensity of his words made your fingers tighten around the fabric of his suit, pulling him closer. He leaned in, his lips brushing from your ear down along your jawline. He nipped at your skin, tasting the faint saltiness, before trailing down to the sensitive spot at the base of your neck. A silent gasp escaped you, legs threatening to buckle, but his body pressed firmly against yours kept you steady, pinned against the wall in his unrelenting hold.

The temperature in your body began to rise, overwhelming you with a burning desire for him that you could no longer control. Tommy's lips grazed the sensitive skin of your neck, leaving a trail of hot, wet kisses from the base up to your collarbone. His hands gripped your hips more firmly, pulling you even closer against him, as if he wanted to merge your bodies into one.

Your mind became a haze, thoughts dissipating as your body instinctively moved to close the gap between you. You drew his face from your neck to yours, capturing his lips in a passionate kiss that ignited every nerve in your body. You couldn't hold back your longing; this was everything you had wanted for so long, and there was no turning back now.

Driven by a need for more, you lifted one leg and draped it around his hip, wanting to feel even closer as your body pressed against the wall. Tommy responded immediately, his hands sliding down to your thighs, gripping you tightly before lifting you up. You found yourself completely pinned against the wall, your bodies flush against each other, lost in a moment that felt both electric and timeless.

He deepened the kiss, his tongue slipping into your mouth and tasting you, drawing a breathless moan from your lips. One of his hands tangled in your hair, holding you captive, while the other gripping your thigh tightly, supporting you as he lifted you effortlessly. Your heart raced in your chest, fluttering with excitement as your kisses grew more feverish, each movement igniting a fire within you.

The sensation of his tongue brushing against yours sent shivers of bliss cascading through you, and you wrapped your arms around his body, pulling him closer. You wrapped your legs completely around his waist, wanting to feel every inch of his warmth invade your being. In that moment, the world around you faded into a beautiful blur; nothing else mattered but him. You could feel the depth of Tommy's devotion, cutting through your lingering doubts and the pain that clouded your mind. He was here, completely present, and that was all you needed.

The sounds of your moans seemed to ignite something deep and primal within Tommy, awakening a possessiveness that made him even more fervent. He deepened the kiss further, his tongue exploring your mouth hungrily, claiming you as his own. His hands roamed across your body, feeling every curve and contour, as if he wanted to make you entirely his.

Another gentle moan escaped your lips, your eyes fluttering closed as heavy breaths tumbled from your trembling form.

When he finally broke the passionate kiss, his lips trailed down your neck once more, leaving a path of hot kisses and gentle bites across your sensitive skin, sending jolts of pleasure coursing through you.

"Tommy..." you whispered his name almost desperately, your fingers tangling in his raven tresses, pulling him closer.

With your free hand, you allowed it to slither between your bodies, driven by an intense need to feel him. You fumbled with his belt, your fingers trembling with anticipation and longing, desperate to bridge the gap between you.

Tommy only grunted against your sensitive flesh, his hips shifting patiently as your fingers fumbled with his belt. You could feel his hips pressing more firmly against yours, sending waves of pleasure coursing between your legs.

"Say you're mine," he urged, his voice hoarse and filled with need, sending shivers down your spine.

"I-I'm.." you struggled to whisper, intoxicated by the intensity of the moment, your body aching with arousal. "I'm yours," you finally breathed out, your words barely a whisper, but filled with conviction. Your lips brushed against the shell of his ear, igniting another wave of desire within him.

With a gentle tug of his hair, you pulled his face back up to yours, pressing your lips hungrily against his. The kiss deepened once more, your bodies melding together as if they were meant to fit. In that moment, nothing else existed; it was just the two of you, lost in the overwhelming need for one another.

A deep groan spilled from Tommy's lips, his need matching yours, a visible shiver coursing through his body that sent your mind spiraling into haziness once more. "You don't know how much I want you," he breathed against your lips, his voice thick with longing.

"You have me..." you replied, breathless and trembling with bliss as you managed to undo his belt between kisses, feeling the heat radiating off him. "I love you, Tommy..." you murmured mindlessly against his lips before pulling back to place gentle kisses in the crook of his neck, savoring the taste of his skin.

At your words, he only growled in response, the sound low and primal. Your soft gasps and moans prompted his hips to jerk forward subconsciously, as if instinctively trying to get closer to you. You whimpered at the sensation of his restrained erection pressing against your clothed, aching core, the friction igniting a fire of desire deep within you. Each movement only fueled his hunger for you, pushing both of you further into this intoxicating moment, caught in a whirlwind of passion and yearning.

You didn't fully comprehend the weight of your confession until you heard his response, the words igniting a fire within you.

:..I love you," he murmured huskily, the admission wrapping around your heart and making it soar in your chest. Suddenly, you felt achingly alive, every nerve ending tingling with exhilaration. Your hands gripped his body once more, the realization of what you had longed for crashing over you like a tidal wave. You could hardly contain the tremors of bliss that coursed through you at the sound of his words; they were all it took to send you spiraling.

His hands tightened around your thighs, pulling you even closer, and you could feel the tautness of his body, driven by unrelenting desire. His breath came in ragged gasps, mirroring the urgency that surged between you. The friction was electrifying, an intense reminder of how much you both craved one another.

"Bed... the bed." you whispered breathlessly against his skin, your voice barely above a gasp as you gestured to the bed behind him. You wanted nothing more than to come undone with him, to surrender to the moment that had finally arrived.

The urgency clawed at you; you couldn't wait any longer.

He captured your lips in a fervent kiss, his tongue delving into your mouth with a low, possessive growl. His hands gripped your hips, lifting you effortlessly, and you gasped softly against his lips as he carried you to the bed.

Without breaking the kiss, he laid you down gently, his body pressing down over yours.Instinctively, you wrapped your arms around him, pulling him close, not wanting an inch of space between you. "I need you, love," he whispered urgently, his voice rough with desire.

"Me too, Tommy, me too.." you breathed, breaking the kiss just long enough for your hands to move with a mind of their own. In a surge of passion, you tore open his white button-up shirt, the buttons scattering as his chest was revealed.

With swift fingers, you slipped off his tie, leaving his muscular form bare before you. Your hands roamed freely over his body, tracing every line and contour, as if trying to memorize him through touch alone. He settled himself between your legs, leaning back slightly as he gazed down at you with an intensity that sent shivers through your core. In that moment, the world felt small, as if it existed solely to witness the depth of this passion.

You watched as his gaze darkened with unrestrained desire, a shiver rippling through him before he leaned back down to claim your lips in a kiss so heated it left you breathless. His tongue explored your mouth, tasting you deeply, and a soft whine escaped you, your eyes fluttering shut as he seemed intent on savoring every part of you.

His hands moved with urgency, stripping away your clothes with a feverish impatience that matched the thrum of your heartbeat. The cool air hit your bare skin, making you shiver as he slid your dress from your shoulders, letting it fall to the floor along with the rest of your clothing. Your body, now exposed to him, bore goosebumps that prickled across your skin as his hungry gaze roamed over you.

Breaking the kiss, his mouth began its descent, trailing hot, wet kisses down your neck, across your collarbone, and along your shoulder, each touch igniting sparks that seemed to set your skin alight. Unsteady breaths spilled from your parted lips, your body arching instinctively toward him as he continued his worship. Every kiss he left seared into you, sending tendrils of warmth spiraling through your veins. Your fingers tangled in his hair, gripping him closer, silently urging him never to stop, to keep grounding you in this moment that felt as eternal as it was fleeting.

When his gaze finally settled on your exposed form, you felt a delicate shiver ripple through you, the intensity of his eyes making your heart pound. He paused for a moment, drinking in the sight, his gaze full of reverence and want. "You are so beautiful," he whispered, his voice rough with desire, each word resonating deep within you. His hands moved tenderly over your body, exploring your curves and tracing every line and dip of your skin, as though committing each detail to memory.

Your own hands roamed over him, gliding from his solid biceps to his strong back, feeling his muscles shift beneath your fingertips. The sensation made your breath hitch, and you couldn't hold back any longer. "Tommy, please... I can't wait," you whimpered, your hips beginning to grind against him, feeling the hardness of his arousal pressing through his unfastened pants. The friction sent a soft moan tumbling from your lips.

"I know, my darling," he murmured, his voice low and rough with restraint as he struggled to keep himself in check. "I want you too... so much." His body trembled, a reflection of his own barely contained desire, and he shifted, pressing his hips against yours with purpose. The hot, intoxicating friction between you sparked a whine from your lips, which only served to fuel his own need, his hands gripping your thighs possessively to pull you closer still.

The intensity grew, each touch, each whisper making the ache in you nearly unbearable. His groan mingled with your soft cries, the sound vibrating between you, creating a rhythm of shared longing and building passion. In that moment, all you knew was him, his touch, his warmth, as you both lost yourselves to the unrelenting pull of each other's desire.

Your breathing grew heavier, each breath a testament to the desperate ache building inside you. Your hands moved instinctively, fumbling to push down the last of his clothing, and as you slid his boxers down, a groan of satisfaction escaped him, low and guttural.

"You want me so bad, don't you?" he murmured, his voice a husky blend of amusement and need, watching you with an intensity that made you shiver. He reached down to help, quickly shedding the last of his clothes until he stood before you, fully exposed.

The sight of him left you breathless— his dick hard and heavy, curving slightly, the tip glistening with anticipation. The sight alone made heat pool low in your belly, a rush of desire that nearly left you dizzy. You bit your lip, feeling a wicked pull, a need to taste him, to finally feel him in your mouth. It only felt wrong to not finally be able to suck on his cock.

Reaching out, you let your fingers trail up his thighs before wrapping your hand gently around him, feeling the weight of him in your palm. You looked up, meeting his darkened gaze as you leaned forward, eager to lose yourself to this shared desire, to feel him completely under your touch.

"Yes, I can't wait... I need you so badly," you breathed, voice barely a whisper as the heat of the moment took hold. Without hesitation, you slipped off your underwear, letting the last barrier between you fall away. Then, in a bold move, you guided him onto his back, your body moving to straddle him as you settled on top, now fully bare and exposed to each other.

"Let me do this first," you whispered, a gleam of mischief in your eyes as you shifted down between his legs. Leaning forward, you let your fingers wrap around his hard length, feeling the weight and warmth of him in your hand. Without another moment's pause, you lowered your mouth to him, tasting him with the first swipe of your tongue against his tip.

A low moan escaped you, savoring the taste of his pre-cum as you took him deeper, your lips enveloping him completely. Every movement was slow, deliberate, as your tongue swirled and caressed, your own desire stoked with every sound that escaped his lips. He shuddered beneath you, his hands finding their way into your hair, gripping gently, as if he, too, was lost in the pleasure of this shared surrender.

Tommy let out a deep, guttural groan, his eyes falling shut as he surrendered to the sensation, his head dropping back onto the pillows with a soft thud. His hand drifted down, fingers tangling into your hair, a gentle but possessive grip that urged you to continue, and the way he tugged at your tresses sent a shiver through you. You could feel him throb between your lips, his reactions only fueling your own desire.

You opened your eyes, glancing up to drink in the sight of him-his chest rising and falling, his face softened in sheer ecstasy. The sound of his groans was music to your ears, a confirmation of just how deeply you were affecting him. It sent another wave of warmth flooding between your thighs, and with renewed fervor, you moved your tongue faster, savoring every reaction, every tremor beneath your touch.

Your free hand drifted over his abdomen, tracing the hard lines of his muscles, then down his thigh, reveling in the heat radiating from his skin. He was completely yours in that moment, and you were determined to make him feel every ounce of your devotion.

With your cheeks hollowed, you took him deeper, slurping him in a greedy rhythm that made a shiver race up his spine. His head tilted forward, his gaze meeting yours, and the sight of him-his jaw tight, his nose flaring, and breaths coming in heavy, uneven bursts-was enough to set your heart racing even faster. Every inch of his expression was carved in pleasure, his features softened yet intense as he succumbed to the sensation.

"Fuck... your mouth feels so good..." he groaned, voice thick with need, fingers tightening in your hair as he held you firmly, yet with a tenderness that only made you sink further into the moment. You parted your jaw a bit more, taking him as deeply as you could, breathing steadily through your nose, feeling him fill you completely. Your tongue traced along his cock, swirling and savoring each inch, each throbbing pulse, until you were wholly intoxicated by his taste and his sounds, eager to drive him to the edge.

His hand reached for yours, his fingers finding and intertwining with yours in a tender gesture that made your stomach flutter. The warmth of his grip grounded you, intensifying the moment as you focused solely on bringing him pleasure. With every soft squeeze of your hand, you could feel how close he was, his body responding in subtle twitches, his breathing growing ragged as he hovered on the brink.

Just when you thought he might let go, he gently tugged your head back, his hand still tangled in your hair. "That's enough, love... I don't want to finish yet," he managed, voice thick with restraint. His chest rose and fell in uneven waves, each breath catching as he struggled to control himself. The way he looked at you-eyes dark and brimming with desire— made your pulse race, knowing that he was holding back, wanting this moment to last, wanting you for longer.

A faint pout graced your lips, your lipstick slightly smudged, glistening from the traces of him left behind. Undeterred, your hand continued its languid strokes along his length, savoring the way he pulsed in your grasp. Each subtle throb drew another low groan from him, his head tilting back, his restraint visibly tested. "Why not?" you murmured, your voice laced with a dazed disappointment. "I want to taste you." The plea hung heavy in the air, and though you could feel the hunger building in him too, his resolve held firm.

"Because," he growled, voice low and tense, "I want to make it last. If you keep going, it'll be over before I want it to be." His hand closed around your wrist, halting your movements with gentle insistence, his grip both a command and a confession of how much he was holding back.

A playful defiance sparked in your eyes as your hand slid to rest on his thigh, your fingers pressing in softly. "Don't act like you don't love watching my lips around your cock, Tommy." The words, a whispered challenge, hung between you, and the way his gaze darkened promised that he'd be making you pay for every teasing word.

Tommy's breath wavered, his resolve faltering under your touch. "Oh, believe me, I do," he replied, voice rough with desire, "but I have other things in mind for tonight."

He released your wrists and sat up, pulling you onto his lap, your thighs straddling his hips. Your heart raced as your bodies pressed together, his hands firm on your waist. The intensity of the moment stole your breath; you were finally here with the man you'd loved for so long. Each glance and touch held the weight of your history, and you could feel it in his grip, the promise of never letting go.

Your arms draped around his neck, foreheads touching as his hands glided down your sides, tracing the delicate curve of your ribs before settling on your hips. He gripped you tightly, his fingers digging into your flesh, igniting a spark of heat that coursed through you. You shifted your hips slightly, feeling the tension build between you, both of your hot breaths mingling in the air as you locked eyes.

Tommy positioned himself at your dripping entrance, his gaze intense and filled with longing. The world around you faded into nothingness, leaving only the two of you in this charged moment. Each heartbeat echoed in your ears, a reminder of how real this was. He was here with you, and you could feel the weight of that truth grounding you, binding you in this passionate embrace.

As if Tommy could sense your racing thoughts, he kissed you again-deeper this time. His tongue swept into your mouth, igniting a soft moan from your lips as waves of bliss coursed through your body. He pulled you closer, your bodies flush against each other, the heat radiating between you making your heart race. You could feel the warmth and firmness of his body pressed against you, and it only intensified your craving for him. Each kiss deepened the connection, each brush of his skin against yours sending sparks of desire spiraling through you, leaving you breathless and wanting more.

His hands roamed over your body, each caress possessive and hungry, as if he aimed to explore every inch of your skin, claiming you as his own. "Are you ready, darling?" he murmured against your lips, his voice low and hoarse with need. You broke the kiss but kept your face close to his, breathless with anticipation. "Yes… Tommy, please," you implored, your tone almost a whine. A smirk curled on his lips at your eagerness. "Such a needy thing," he teased lightly before guiding your hips down, causing you to sink onto him with a soft whimper. The sensation of him stretching you filled you with bliss, satisfying that deep ache within. Tommy released a guttural groan, pausing for a moment as you both reveled in the way your bodies molded together, a perfect fit that felt both overwhelming and intoxicating.

"You feel so good.." he groaned, burying his face in the crook of your neck, fingers digging into your hips as he guided your movements. Each thrust made you gasp, your body clenching tightly around him. "Oh, fuck, you're so tight... so wet. Of course your cunt is perfect, just like I imagined." The filthy words spilled from his lips, igniting a fierce blush across your cheeks. Your hands gripped his shoulders, unable to contain how your body responded to him, clamping down with a vice-like grip that sent waves of pleasure coursing through you.

Instinctively, your hips began to rock against his, moans escaping your lips in unsteady bursts, fueled by the urgency of your movements. "O-Oh my god..." you whimpered, breaths heaving as you leaned back slightly, desperately craving more of that delicious friction. Each thrust sent you spiraling deeper into a haze of ecstasy, the world outside fading away until there was only the two of you, lost in the heat of the moment.

"Yes, just like that, love..." Tommy panted, his icy blue eyes wild with desire. "You're doing so well, my darling. Keep going.." His words sent shivers down your spine, and long moans poured from your lips as you felt a familiar tension building in your stomach. Each thrust pushed him deeper, and you knew that if he kept talking to you like this while slamming into your cervix, you were teetering on the edge of bliss.

Tommy leaned back, laying against the bed, yet his hands remained firmly on your hips as you began to bounce against him. Each movement allowed him to sink deeper, and you couldn't help but release a loud cry of pleasure. The echo of wet flesh slapping against flesh filled the room, a beautiful symphony that only heightened your arousal as you coated him in a new layer of wetness. "F-Fucking hell, Tommy.." you sobbed, feeling vulnerable yet exhilarated, riding him relentlessly as you chased that peak. Your nails dug deeper into the flesh of his shoulders, each stroke requiring every ounce of strength left in your trembling legs. "I-I'm close, I'm close," you whimpered, overwhelmed by sensation as his hands gripped your hips tightly, guiding your rhythm and driving you further toward ecstasy.

"That's it," Tommy growled, his gaze locked onto you, reveling in the sight before him. His hands shifted from your hips to your swaying breasts, grasping them tightly and rolling your nipples between his fingers, sending shockwaves of pleasure coursing through you.

"Let me feel you come for me, love.." he demanded, his voice rough with need as he noticed the struggle on your face. With that, he began to buck his hips upward, fucking you fast and hard, his grip on your breasts unyielding.

Each thrust hit the deepest spots within you, awakening sensations you didn't even know existed.

The way he rubbed against your swollen clit sent you spiraling, causing you to sob louder in bliss, breathless as the air was stolen from your lungs. "Oh fuck! Oh fuck!" you cried out, the tension in your stomach growing unbearable. And just when you thought you couldn't take any more, it snapped, your body tightening around Tommy as your orgasm ripped through you, leaving you trembling and gasping. His low groan resonated in your ears, a testament to the pleasure you both shared in that intoxicating moment.

You felt your mind ascend into an euphoric high, closing your eyes as bliss washed over you. But Tommy wasn't done yet. In an instant, he flipped you over, pinning you beneath him. As he pulled out for a brief moment, a soft moan escaped your lips, your body still sensitive. A primal growl erupted from his throat as he lifted your legs, resting them on his shoulders before slipping back into you. Your body tensed slightly as you slowly began to come down from your high, the overwhelming sensations flooding back.

"T-Tommy..." you called out his name weakly, your eyes fluttering open to gaze up at him. The sight of him above you, driven by raw desire, sent shivers down your spine. Your body was trembling and utterly spent, the last orgasm still lingering in your system like an electric current. Yet, there was a hunger in his eyes, a fierce determination that made your heart race anew.

For Tommy, seeing you so undone, so utterly wrecked, sent a shiver down his spine. "There's more where that came from..." he grunted, determination igniting his every move. He began where he left off, his lips kissing a path down to your calf, igniting a trail of goosebumps in his wake. Then, he slammed his hips back against yours almost ruthlessly, causing your body to bounce against the mattress.

A rush of sensations overwhelmed you— pleasure and pain intertwined, and your back arched in response, cries of ecstasy spilling from your lips. "I know, love, I know... Just a little longer... Fuck.." he breathed out, his voice raw and filled with need as he maintained a relentless rhythm, snapping into you with a ferocity that left you gasping for breath. Each thrust drove you deeper into the haze, making every moment feel electric as you succumbed to the overwhelming intensity of it all.

The new sensation from this angle took Tommy's breath away, driving him to fuck you more roughly and deeply. Your eyes nearly rolled back in your head as you gripped the sheets beneath you, unable to control the screams escaping your lips, your body trembling in response to his relentless pace.

Everything became so intense; the world around you faded away, leaving only the two of you locked in this euphoric struggle. Tommy's free hand gripped your hip tightly, anchoring you in place while the other held your leg, pulling it closer as he thrust into you. Each powerful movement sent waves of pleasure coursing through both your bodies, the heat between you mounting unbearably.

His breath grew ragged, the sound of skin slapping against skin mixing with your cries, creating a primal symphony that echoed throughout the room. You could feel the tension building once more, a sweet, intoxicating pressure coiling within you as Tommy lost himself in the rhythm, driven by the need to take you to the edge and beyond.

The way your body felt against his, the sound of your voice-whimpering and gasping-drove him to the brink of madness. Each thrust made his dick throb inside you, eliciting soft whines from your lips as your body tightened around him. He moved in and out of you with a primal ease, the pleasure building between you. "You've always been so perfect for me," Tommy gasped, his voice raw with need. His movements grew uneven, the urgency mounting as his own release drew near.

His hand, which had been gripping your hip, slithered down between your legs, fingers finding your aching clit. When his thumb began to rub against it, you yelped loudly, your body shuddering in response. The overwhelming sensation was nearly too much to bear, leaving you breathless and begging for more, caught in the intoxicating waves of pleasure he was drawing from you.

"You're going to cum for me again? Fuck... like I said, so fucking perfect. I'm right there with you; l'm gonna cum, love..." Tommy groaned, his hips moving even faster against you. Each thrust sent shocks of pleasure coursing through your body, causing you to sob out once more. Your head spun as the sensations overwhelmed you-his relentless pounding and the rhythmic pressure of his thumb on your clit ignited a fire within you.

"Oh my god! Oh my god, Tommy!" you cried out, feeling your orgasm approach with no warning. It hit you like a wave, crashing over you and leaving you squirming beneath him, but he held you firm, guiding you through the peak of your release. His movements became frantic, breaths turning into labored gasps as he neared his own climax.

Tommy released a guttural growl, his body tensing, every muscle straining as he surrendered to the pleasure. Words escaped him, replaced by raw, primal sounds as he teetered on the edge, both of you lost in the intoxicating rhythm of your connection.

"I'm cumming," he gasped, his voice guttural and raw. "And you're going to fucking take it..." His words sent shivers down your spine, making you whimper weakly. Your mind was so hazed with pleasure that you couldn't muster the strength to respond. With a few more powerful thrusts, Tommy shuddered, finally reaching his climax. He spilled his hot cum inside you with a satisfied groan, igniting a wave of warmth that washed over you. Another soft whimper escaped your lips as you felt the intimate flood within you, your heart racing wildly in your chest. Gently, he placed your legs down before pulling out, leaving you both breathless, bodies entwined in the aftermath of your shared ecstasy.

Tenderly, Tommy laid on top of you, resting his head against your chest, sighing contentedly as if being in your arms was his safe haven. You sweetly ran your fingers through his hair, both of you catching your breath after the intensity of your escapade.

"Did you mean it?" you asked, your voice raspy from the moans that had escaped your lips. Tommy lay still for a moment, tensing slightly, the weight of your question hanging in the air.

"Yes..." he answered quietly, his body gradually melting into yours, bringing a sense of wholeness that enveloped you both. This moment would be etched into your memory, a sacred experience to cherish for the rest of your life.

"I've always loved you..." he added, the sincerity in his voice filling your heart with warmth.

The air around you felt electric, thick with the unspoken bond you shared. You pulled him closer, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat against your chest, a comforting reminder of his presence.

"Then let's make this real.."

***

It has finally been finished— poured all of my sweat and tears into this. I hope you guys enjoyed this! thank you guys for reading!

[randomcreator-09]

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

This gif makes me go feral 👹👹👹

>>>MASTERLIST<<<

>>>MINORS DNI<<<

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

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

Anyways :3 have fun reading ^^

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

-----

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

------

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

-----

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

-----

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

Dear Ms. Y/N,

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

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

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

Yours sincerely,

Lord Benedict Hargrove

Solicitor to the Duke’s Estate

Tears balled down your cheeks.

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

------

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

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

-----(After war)

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

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

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

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

-----

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

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

And then, the door creaked open.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

------

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

-----(Watery Lane)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Indeed, he was all you needed.

-----

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

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[youvebeenlivingfictional]

Making Arrangements Part One

Masterlist | Part Two

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x Reader

Rating: Explicit - 18+ Only. Any minors interacting will be blocked.

Length: 6.1K

Notes: It's a two-shot! Part two will have explicit content.

No beta, we die like Billy Kimber

Warnings: Arranged marriage; mentions of prostitution; canon-typical attitudes toward sex; slow burn; enemies to allies to lovers; Reader has a brother and an aunt; no physical descriptions of non-canon characters; Reader gets drunk

Summary: If you’d been involved with anyone, if there’d ever been a hint or a whisper of a beau recently, you might’ve been able to plead differently for your future. 

But you knew as well as your family that this was your best move, and with no great love waiting in the wings, there was nothing to be done but to marry the man. You secured your interests, the interests of your family. You gained a powerful ally—but you also gained powerful enemies. 

“D’you think you could bother to give them a smile?” 

On the face of it, it seemed a fair question, but all things considered, it made you want to punch Thomas Michael Shelby squarely in the jaw. You didn’t, of course—that conduct would be unbecoming of a bride in front of her new family. 

You’d been getting knowing looks from the women all night—pursed lips from Ada and Polly, and a wide smile from Esme. It was almost wolf-like, the way she watched you—welcome to the pack. 

“I could,” You conceded, nodding, casting your gaze around the party. The revels had only just begun. It was early enough that nearly everyone was coherent, on their feet, but you knew that in just a couple of hours, the party would likely turn to shit. These people would be drunk, coked out of their minds, dancing, and flirting…Probably fucking. You had no doubt that you would be expected to do your wifely chore that evening. 

Maybe that was why a permanent frown had been fixed on your lips from the time you’d put on your wedding dress, as you’d walked down the aisle, all the way through the fucking I Dos. 

“You’re still frowning.” 

You didn’t bother to hide your eye roll before you turned your head fully to look at him. He didn’t give you the same courtesy. He watched the revelers with the same bored speculation as you’d given them just moments ago. 

“And this is what your fucking grin looks like?” You snipped. He raised his cigarette to his lips, drawing in a deep drag that sank his cheeks. He managed to cast you a knowing glance, his brow raising. 

“It’s the most that you’ll get of me tonight.” 

“And of me. Don’t ask me to stoop to something that you won’t bother with. I’m your wife now. At least pretend to respect me in front of them,” You insisted, nodding toward the others. It took him a moment, but Tommy nodded. 

“And behind closed doors?” He asked. 

“That’ll be none of their concern. And you’ll have to take it up with me later.” 

“I intend to.” 

--  

You sat on the edge of the bed, and watched. All Tommy did was light up another damn cigarette. You weren’t sure if you married a man or a chimney. 

You could hardly believe that you had married the man at all. 

Your family had never been a big player in Birmingham, or Camden. You’d kept your head down, stayed out of the way, operated cleanly. When the Shelbys had come to you with a proposition, it hadn’t been for your minor operations in the UK—it had been for your connections in America. They were looking to expand, offered you a good deal, and a union between the two households. 

When it had first been brought to your attention, you’d thought that it was a pretty good idea. But when it came down the line that Thomas Shelby had specified an interest in marrying you, well—the thought had become less and less appealing. If you’d cared less for your family, or known less about the mounting tensions that they were facing overseas, you would’ve laughed the idea off. If you’d been involved with anyone, if there’d ever been a hint or a whisper of a beau recently, you might’ve been able to plead differently for your future. 

But you knew as well as your family that this was your best move, and with no great love waiting in the wings, there was nothing to be done but to marry the man. 

You secured your interests, the interests of your family. You gained a powerful ally—but you also gained powerful enemies. 

Tommy had spoken to you only once before your wedding day. The meeting had been brief, and he’d done all of the talking. He’d promised to protect you, sworn to never raise a hand against you. 

“You know as well as I do,” He’d insisted, “That this is the best way forward for our families. And I know,” He’d leaned in a touch, “That you want what’s best for your people.” He’d reached into his pocket and drawn out a small velvet box, setting it on the table before he stood, straightening his waistcoat. 

“You have until tomorrow night. I need an answer.” 

You’d sent him your reply—a single slip of paper sent with your brother Lewis that simply read: Yes 

“...It was a nice party,” You offered now, unable to stand the silence any longer. 

“You didn’t seem to particularly enjoy it.” 

“No one left with a bullet wound. In my family, we consider that a successful bash.” 

Tommy’s lips quirked just a touch as he nodded. 

“Our brothers seemed to get on,” You hedged, desperate to draw this out. You worried that once you stopped speaking, he may…Want to consummate the marriage. You weren’t sure how you felt about that. You’d heard rumors, whispers that Tommy was a good lover, but you weren’t sure that you were ready to find that out yourself. 

“They did,” Tommy nodded again. “Lewis and John already seem thick as thieves.” 

“Yes.” 

The two of you fell into quiet again, and it was a harrowing few moments before Tommy pushed himself off of the dresser. Your hands dropped instinctively to the bed, grasping at the sheets—but Tommy turned and went for the door. 

“G’night, then.” 

Your brow furrowed as you glanced around. Goodnight? But—

“Where will you sleep?” 

Tommy stopped in the open doorway, nodding behind himself. “I’ve a room down the hall.” He turned away, adding, “Shout if you need something.” 

You hesitated a few moments longer before you sprung up, darting forward and shoving the door closed before locking it. You drew in a deep breath, closing your eyes and letting your forehead rest against the dark, cool wood grain. 

He didn’t take. 

You had gone into the room expecting shoving hands and a quick coupling, but Tommy kept his distance. You weren’t sure if you were more relieved or insulted. You turned away from the door, leaning back against it and peering around your dim new living quarters. 

Relieved, you decided. 

--  

Insulted, you decided. 

Tommy had the gall to lean in and peck your cheek when he’d come down to breakfast that morning. 

It took everything in you not to shove him away.

Polly made no comment on how wane you looked the next morning, nor did Ada or Esme cast you knowing grins or teases. They all watched Tommy, and the little slip of a shadow that you’d met last night—a birch-pale, dark-haired woman named Lizzie. 

You didn’t think that the news had made it back to your family—the fact that your husband had just spent his first night as a newly-married man with a prostitute-turned-secretary while you slept alone in an unfamiliar room wearing the lacy nightie that you’d bought specifically for your honeymoon. 

Esme and Ada excused themselves as quickly as they could, but Polly lingered, and offered,

“He’s a prickly sort, and these things take time. Men have their needs and urges.”

“...Right,” You pronounced crisply as you stirred some sugar into your tea, “And I’m a novice in a nunnery.” 

--  

“You should’a seen the girls at the party last night,” Lewis groaned.

For all of your irritation during the last few days, you’d been happy, truly happy to see your family enjoying themselves. Carving out your space in the literary scene of London and running a few underground print shops wasn’t exactly a serene existence. You constantly had to move operations, vet workers, stop-up leaks in production cycles and deal with snitches. Your entire family was dedicated to the business, but your brother was the most determined of the lot. Lewis had become the man of the house at a young age, after your father had been hauled into prison for treason. 

So to see him let loose a little—well, more than a little, truth be told—was a heartening sight. 

“I don’t think I would’ve quite enjoyed them the way you did,” You raised a brow, smile widening as he ducked his head bashfully, “But I’m glad you had a good time.” 

“And you?”

The pointed question came from just behind you. You didn’t dare turn to look at your Aunt Pearl. She knew you far too well. You could hide your feelings and concerns well enough from Lew—you had plenty of practice. But Pearl had been a motherly figure, a guiding hand in what would’ve been an otherwise rudderless life. She learned to read you like an open book when you were young, and you had been powerless to change the way that she understood you, even as the seasons of your life had passed. 

You turned your head back toward her just a touch, biting the inside of your cheek as you waited for her to go on. It was a few moments of quiet before she urged: “Lewis, go get some air.” 

You drew a deep breath in through your nose, fighting to steady yourself, and giving Lewis an encouraging smile and nod before he stood, pushing away from the kitchen table and heading outside. You saw him tipping his head back toward you, trying to catch on the line of questions that Pearl was about to level—as if neither of you knew any better to wait until he was fully out of earshot. 

“Who’s Lizzie?” She finally asked. You weren’t sure how to answer at first. You scrubbed your hand over the back of your neck, making sure that you heard the door shutting behind Lewis. 

“It’s just…Growing pains,” You finally offered, gaze set stalwartly on the table. “Every couple has them.” 

“Where was he last night?” 

“How should I know?” “He’s your husband. You’re supposed to know.” 

You didn’t have a chance to argue before she strode closer, her hand resting on your shoulder. You didn’t flinch, or draw away. You were used to her hand on your shoulder, her nails digging into your skin. She didn’t dig her nails in just now—she merely rested and waited. 

“Growing pains,” You finally offered again as you looked straight ahead. It was as if Polly had her hand on your other shoulder, and was staring you down in warning. 

“Pains?” Pearl repeated. “Physical?” 

You don’t want to answer, but—

“Emotional,” You blurted. It was another moment of quiet before she hummed. You stopped yourself from turning to look at Pearl—to catch the no doubt heavy judgment in her dark eyes, and the twist of displeasure to her small mouth. 

“I see.” 

“It’s early,” You insisted. She hummed again, stepping around you to walk toward the window. It didn’t take much to glance over, to see where Lewis was playfully fighting with John and Finn. 

“Do they know?” Pearl asked. 

“About where he was?” You shook your head. “I’m sure his brothers do.” 

“And?” 

“And what?” You scoffed. “It’s no business of theirs. Our marriage is between myself and Thomas.” 

Pearl turned to face you with a crisp smoothness, her eyes narrowed as she cocked a hip.

“And that’s all you have to say about it?” She asked. You pursed your lips. You had plenty to say about it, but it would land on deaf ears. Any of Pearl’s meddling would spell trouble, and you weren’t about to sic the dogs less than twenty-four hours into wedded bliss. 

“Yes,” You nodded firmly. Pearl’s eyes narrowed further before she hummed, turning back toward the window. 

“...This is good for us, Pearl,” You reminded her. “The Shelby’s are strong, they know what they’re doing. I just have to hold up my end.” 

“And what end is that?” 

“That of a doting wife.” 

“And mother?” 

Doubtful. Thomas couldn’t even be bothered to touch you as it was. But it was early, you reminded yourself. Things could still change. Things would change. They had to. 

“Perhaps,” You leveled evenly. “Someday. Time will tell.” 

“Time,” Peal repeated, nodding as she rounded you. “Well, if we’re going on time, so far, you’re not managing it particularly well.” 

You slid down in your seat a little as Pearl finally left the dining room. Your interest in the day’s paper had been sapped; your tea had gone cold. You didn’t want anything to do with Thomas Shelby, or with his family, not anymore. If you were going to make it through at least one year of marriage, you needed to nip this in the bud. 

-- 

“I need to talk to you.” 

Tommy didn’t so much as glance at you, his gaze trained steadily on a horse. You waited a moment, shifting from foot to foot, but perhaps you shouldn’t have waited. You’d spent nearly two weeks waiting. Maybe he hadn't heard you? You stepped a little closer and raised a hand to touch him. You couldn’t bring yourself to make contact, and your hand curled in on itself just before it could brush his waistcoat. 

“Thomas?” You pressed. 

“I’m busy.” 

“When can we speak, then?” 

“Tonight.” 

Certain that he meant it earnestly, you turned away and left.

But the evening came and went, and you found yourself sitting alone, stewing in front of your uneaten dinner and eyeing his empty plate. The house was too quiet, and your thoughts were far too loud. You needed to clear your buzzing head—you wanted a drink, and some fun. 

-- 

“You can’t let them push you around.”

The warning was spoken knowingly. You knew that she was right, but you couldn’t bring yourself to meet Esme’s eye. Her gaze was so heavy, so all-knowing—nothing like the bright, uninterested gaze that Thomas often offered you. But Esme was having none of it. She dipped her head into your field of vision and clapped her hand over yours where it rested on the table beside your drink. You shook her hand away lightly, reaching for your drink instead. Maybe coming to the office to nip out of the bottle Polly kept in her desk had been a bad idea. But you couldn’t bring yourself to just sit in that house and rot in your anger. 

“No one is pushing me anywhere,” You grumbled.

Esme let out a soft, cruel chuckle. 

“I know what it is,” She insisted, “To come into this family and feel on the outside, feel that you don’t have a voice. Becomin’ a Shelby doesn’t erase who you were before.” She reached out again, taking up your drink and drawing in a deep pull before you could argue. As annoyed as you were, you knew that she was right. You nodded slowly, topping the glass up when she set it back down. 

“...Should I not bother replacing Polly’s alcohol, then?” 

Esme’s smile grew as yours did, and the two descended into quiet giggles. 

-- 

“We need to talk.” 

It was steely when it left you this time. Despite that, Thomas still paid you no mind. In fact, he went out of his way to take his time drawing on his cigarette before fishing into his waistcoat. He pointedly drew out his pocket watch, flipping it open and eyeing the time. The tick tick tick of the second hand passed for several long moments before he flipped it shut again, lifting his gaze to the hustle and bustle of the office around him. 

“Later,” He offered. 

Later, always later. Weeks of later, of hearing Lizzie’s footsteps and the creaking across the floor as she left the house before you were up and about for the morning. Weeks of sitting alone in that empty house, putting on a brave face for Pearl and Lewis. Weeks of anger and shame eating through your gut. 

“Now,” You spat.

He turned his head toward you, brows ticking up. You could feel the pace of the others in the shop around you slow just a bit, and speeding up again as Thomas shot them a glance.

“Alright,” He murmured, resting his hand on your lower back. You let him steer you toward his office, resolute in your irritation. He opened the door for you, waving you inside and shutting the door behind the two of you. 

“What is so urgent that you pulled me away from my work?” 

“Your work of watching other people count your money?” You quipped in irritation. 

“...What is it that you want to discuss.” 

“You need to keep your whoring private.” 

Thomas’s brows jumped with intrigue, his chin tipping down toward you.

“Explain.” 

“I understand that we went into this with our eyes open and a mutual understanding that the actions that we were taking were for the good of our families, but to the rest of the world, we are husband and wife. I will not ask you to stop your carrying on, as I can't imagine that you’d abide by it if I did, but keep it private. I will not step out on you publicly, and I expect to be given that same respect.” 

Thomas blinked before he straightened, pushing away from the door and stubbing out his cigarette in an ashtray on the desk. He muttered something that you couldn’t hear, and you frowned. 

“Pardon me?” 

“Publicly,” He repeated firmly. “You said that you wouldn’t step out on me publicly.” 

“I did,” You nodded. 

“Do I get to know the lucky man’s name?”

Your face went hot with indignation. Was he trying to embarrass you? Whether he was or not, it was working. You folded your arms across your chest. 

“You’re missing my point.” 

“I take your point. You want me to treat you as my partner, and as my wife, you have that right.” 

“And will you?” 

“You can trust me to be discreet.” 

“I don’t trust you to do anything.” 

Thomas’ expression closed off, his eyes narrowing a touch, and your stomach twisted with nerves. 

“And might I ask why.” 

“What have you done to earn it? In our, what, two weeks of marriage, I have hardly seen you. You’ve made no point to acquaint me with your family or your business, and you’ve spent your nights down the hall with another woman. I’m not your wife, I’m a boarder.” 

Thomas considered for a moment before he gave a short nod. 

“I understand. I will make changes.” “Thomas—” 

“I will.” 

You pursed your lips together, pushing a sigh out through your nose before you gave a small nod of concession. 

“Alright.” 

“Anything else?” 

“...No.” And, just to seal the deal, “Thank you for your time. And for listening.” 

Thomas nodded, straightening up and opening the door for you. You strode toward it, and were nearly through before he rested a hand on your shoulder. You went still, turning your head toward him just a touch. Before you could get a good look at him, Thomas leaned in, brushing a kiss to your cheek. It was the most that he’d touched you since he’d kissed you the morning after your wedding. You thought that he may be making a show of affection for the office, but Thomas turned his head, brushing his lips against your ear.

“If I ever find out that another man has touched you,” He murmured, “I’ll take off the bastard’s hands and give them to you as an anniversary present.” 

You balked, shock wracking your chest as he placed a final kiss to your temple before he gave your ass a pat, spurring you into action and sending your scurrying back into the office, and out of his reach. 

--  

“It’ll be nice for you to fix up the place and make it your own,” Polly commented. 

“She was always going to get around to it of course,” Pearl insisted. You didn’t dare look away from the row of dressers. The one that you had in your bedroom was fine, but it was a bit small. You’d ordered several new pieces of clothing on Tommy’s account—well, on your joint account. Giving the name Mrs. Shelby had incited stunned, wide eyes from the shop keeper’s assistant and prompted fawning and a healthy discount. 

Still, as much as you were trying to bring your families together, you realized belatedly that in this case, it was an awful idea. Polly and Pearl had taken every opportunity to take digs at one another, leveling backhanded compliments with smug smiles and drags of their respective cigarettes. The two of them were so painfully similar, and perhaps that was why they seemed to hate one another so much. 

“Of course,” Polly echoed placidly.

“I want this one,” You pointed to the one in front of you.

“I’ll find the assistant,” Polly offered, brushing past you. You sighed heavily, shaking your head. 

“Please pull it together,” You muttered.

“I’ve nothing to pull together,” Pearl pronounced.

“Please,” You bit out again. “I can’t make any of this work if you and the others don’t, either.” 

You heard a deep sigh, chased by the tapping of her cigarette ash beside you. 

“I will be myself.” 

“I don’t need you to be yourself, Pearl. I need you to be pleasant.” 

A little knot of tension unwound as Pearl chuckled. 

“Becoming a missus really has given you fangs.” 

“I’d rather not use them, if possible.” 

“I understand.” 

“Thank you.” 

“...Are you going to give Miss Sourpuss the same talking-to when she gets back?” 

“Lord above.” 

--  

“You look like you’ve had a marvelous time.” 

Bringing Pearl and Polly to a somewhat peaceful place had been shock enough for that evening, but this took the absolute biscuit.

You might’ve yelped in fear at the sound of his voice if you hadn’t spotted the burning cigarette in the ashtray mere seconds before he spoke. As it was, you didn’t answer right away. You plastered yourself against the backdoor, your hands curled around your key and your purse. Thomas just arched a brow, expectant and silent. He wasn’t supposed to be there. You’d been told that he had business, and you had figured that once that had concluded, he would take care of other…Matters. You'd thought you’d have the house to yourself and have a nice cuppa before going to bed. 

You finally managed to push yourself forward, away from the door, your face hot with drink and embarrassment. 

“I didn’t think you’d be in,” You admitted. 

“You didn’t think I would be spending the evening in my own house?” 

“Esme told me there was a family meeting. She said that they can run late.” 

“You were misinformed.” 

“Clearly.” 

You watched Thomas warily as he drifted closer, going tense as he stepped around behind you. You hardly dared breathe for a moment, then let it out as you felt him slide your coat from your shoulders. 

“Thank you,” You mumbled as he stepped away with it.

“Were you with Esme?” He asked, tossing your coat over the back of a chair. 

“Mhm,” You nodded, taking a few steps deeper into the kitchen. “And Ada, Polly…And Pearl.” 

“Where were you?” 

“Polly’s house.” 

“Mm.” 

You watched Tommy round the counter, taking up a clean glass and a bottle of whiskey. You nodded, stepping closer. “Please.” 

He poured a good amount before setting the glass on the table. You sat down, watching him do the same. The light in the kitchen was low, casting an orange glow about the room. You felt almost like you were being interrogated as Tommy tucked his cigarette between his lips for another drag. You took your drink up in turn, giving your hands something to do. Besides, finding your husband at home had harshly staunched your blissfully tipsy mood, and you were desperate to get it back. Tommy made no comment as you took a deep swig, and you fought away a wince at the taste and burned as you gulped it down greedily. 

“How was the meeting?” You asked.

“Fine…Would you like to know what it’s about?” 

“If you’d like to tell me.” 

You figured he would let it go there, but he gave a short nod, offering: “We’ve reached a trade agreement with your man in New York.” 

“I’m glad to hear it.” 

“Lewis can fill you in on the particulars later.” 

Your brows jumped. “Lewis was there?” 

“The business concerned him, I made sure he was in attendance.” 

“I’m sure he appreciated it.” 

He hummed, leaning back in his seat. You took another deep swig from your glass, but you couldn’t bring yourself to draw your gaze away from Tommy’s. He seemed so relaxed—though, maybe it was absurd to find a man relaxed simply because he had removed his suit jacket. Still, he looked irritatingly dashing in his waistcoat. 

“Tell me about yourself,” He ordered as you lowered your glass to the table. You cleared your throat, shaking your swimming head to try and clear that, too.

“Pardon me?” 

“Well,” Tommy plucked up the bottle again, topping your glass up. “As you have reminded me, you are my wife. I ought to know something about you.” 

“...Are you drunk?”

His lips quirked with a small smile. “No. But if you keep on like that, you will be.”

“I’ll be fine.” 

“If you say so.” 

“I do say so, thank you.”

“I have to be drunk to want to learn about my wife?”

My wife. It made you feel oddly warm as he said it…Though perhaps that was the whiskey. 

“We didn’t exactly have the most conventional courtship, or wedding,” You reminded him.  

“All the more reason for me to learn about you now.” 

“I don’t know where to start.” 

“How about with the things you like.” 

“I will tell you,” You nod slowly, “But only if you tell me about yourself in turn.” 

Thomas seemed to purse his lips before he sat up in his seat. He held his hand out, the gold of his wedding ring glinting in the light. 

“You have a deal.” 

You hesitated for a few moments, certain that he was putting you on. But when he didn’t draw it back, you raised your hand in turn, grasping his and giving it a shake. 

--  

The first hint of light made you wince and turn away. Your mouth was obscenely dry; your head was pounding harshly. You groaned, rolling away from the window. Oh…You did not feel good. Your head felt like it was going to burst; your stomach rolled like you were taking a rocky transatlantic crossing. Oh, god…Were you going to be sick?

You peeked an eye open, then squeezed it shut again. Oh, no. You weren’t sure which was worse, having your eyes open or keeping them closed. You hesitantly opened both eyes, then groaned more loudly, tucking your head beneath your pillow. No. Having your eyes open was definitely worse. 

You heard a harsh thudding, as if a giant has managed to get into your room. What on earth—

The pillow lifted away, and you tipped your head up into the cool brush of fingertips against your forehead. 

“How’s our Sleeping Beauty?” 

You weren’t sure what flustered you more: the teasing tone of Tommy’s voice, or the way the word beauty sounded coming out of his mouth. 

“Right as rain,” You mumbled. “Or I will be, once you stop yelling.”

His chuckle brushed your forehead. 

“Pearl is on her way to look in on you. Apparently Esme is doing just as well as you are this morning.” 

“I don’t wish this on my worst enemy.” 

“Rest up.” 

“I wasn't planning on doing anything else.” 

“Good girl.” 

Before you could ask, or argue, or throw a hand out to slap him on the shoulder, he brushed a kiss to your forehead, then drew away fully. You listened to the retreat of his footsteps, a pause, the scraping of the curtains being drawn closed, and the gentle scruuuuuuh—thump of him shutting your bedroom door behind himself. You only dared look around after a few minutes, when you were certain he was gone. You rolled onto your back, sighing and trying to ignore the thud-thud-thud behind your eyes. 

You feel like hell, but last night was sort of…Nice. 

Drinking with the girls and breaking down some of the barriers before your families had been a success, but coming home to Thomas was…New. It wasn’t unpleasant, as you would’ve previously thought. You scrubbed your hand gently across your eyes, trying to recall your conversation. You had it in bits and pieces—his love of horses, his devotion to his family, his worries for Arthur and John. You wondered if he told you those things because you’d been spifflicated that he didn’t think you’d remember a damn thing. But you remembered. 

You remembered the almost kind way that he’d smiled at you a couple of times. You remembered the way he’d taken your hand and led you up the stairs, steadying you when you’d wobbled and taken uneasy steps. You remembered him turning his back as you’d gotten undressed, waiting for you to get into bed before bidding you a goodnight. 

A knocking on the door drew you up from your recollection, and you winced at the sound. 

“Yes?” You croaked. The door opened, and to your surprise, two heads poked through. 

“You’re in a state,” Polly chuckled before Pearl opened your door the rest of the way. The two entered your room, each eyeing the furnishings that were soon to be replaced. You pushed yourself up, wincing as your head spun. 

“Had a night, did you?” Pearl settled onto the bed beside you. 

“Could you lower your voice, please,” You grumbled. 

“Did you go right to bed when you came home?” 

“I meant to.” 

“But you didn’t?” Polly chimed in. 

“No.” You winced as you raised your voice just a touch. “I…I had a conversation with my husband.” 

Polly and Pearl cast one another curious glances, so unlike the cutting looks they’d leveled at one another just a couple of days ago. 

“It was fine,” You added. “It was…” Nice? Enlightening? Something you would be happy to have again? “Cordial.” 

“Was he drinking?” Polly plied.

“We both were.” 

Polly and Pearl each hissed, chased by sympathetic tuts.

“You should’ve quit while you were ahead,” Pearl admonished. 

“I certainly know that now.” 

Polly took another look at you before she patted Pearl’s shoulder, offering, “I’ll put the kettle on.” 

“You’re a saint,” Pearl smiled. You sagged back against the headboard, scrubbing a hand over your brow as Polly disappeared.

“Since when are the two of you so friendly?” You asked. Pearl shrugged. 

“We’ve come to an understanding…As you have with your husband, apparently.” 

“I think it may be a very different kind of understanding.” 

“D’you mind if I smoke?” 

“...I don’t mean to sound harsh, but if you smoke, Pearl, I will be sick.”

“Better out than in.” 

“Please, no.” 

-- 

It wasn’t every night—it wasn’t even most nights, but you began to spend time with Thomas. It started with him coming home just as you finished dinner, and progressed to Thomas making it home just in time for dinner. Conversation wasn’t always freely flowing, and a few of those first dinners were a little quiet, and awkward. But as you spent more and more time together, those silences became more and more rare, and when conversation wilted, the quiet was comfortable. 

You still slept apart, but for the life of you, you couldn’t remember the last time you’d heard Lizzie creeping out of the house as you awoke. Maybe she’d managed to work out which floorboards didn’t creak; maybe Thomas had stopped having her in the house…Or having her at all. 

You were certain that the second possibility was the most likely. It still wasn’t the ideal situation, but you appreciated it all the same. Not only had Thomas kept his promise and been discreet, but he was taking the pains to distance you from his romantic liaisons. It was…Almost sweet, all things considered. 

--  

“...What are you reading?” 

You jolted at the question, sucking in a gasp and dropping the manuscript that had been in your hand. Thomas’ brows rose as he walked deeper into the sitting room. 

“You scared me,” You grumbled. “How long have you been here?” 

“A few minutes. I called out twice when I came in.” 

“Oh,” You frowned. “I’m sorry, I must not have heard you.” 

“Clearly.” 

He walked deeper into the room, taking up the fallen manuscript and sitting on the green velvet settee beside you. You let your gaze linger, sweeping over him. His jacket had always been removed, though his waistcoat was still intact. His cool eyes swept over the page, brow furrowing a touch as he took in the content. His head began to turn toward you, and you hurriedly stood, rounding to the bar cart. 

“Would you like a drink?” You asked. 

“Sure.” 

You plucked up the bottle of whiskey, uncapping it and pouring a good amount. You rounded back to him, holding the glass out. He crossed his legs, resting the manuscript against it before he took the drink with one hand, patting the seat beside him with the other. You lowered yourself back down hesitantly, acutely aware of the way your thighs brushed. 

“What is this?” He asked, nodding toward the pages. 

“A book that was sent to us.” 

“Topside?” 

You smiled a little. Topside was how your family had always referred to the legitimate side of your publishing operations. You were certain that you and the others had said it around Tommy and his family before, but you were surprised he remembered. 

“Yes,” You nodded. 

“D’you like it?” 

“Ah…” You considered before you blew softly between your lips. “I’ve read worse.” 

“I’m not sure if that’s an indictment or praise.” 

You chuckled. “It’s got a good frame, but the writing is unpolished. Could be good, with a little bit of work.” 

“Will you work on it yourself?” 

“I may. Need something to do with my time.” It felt like the wrong thing to say as soon as you said it—but Thomas simply hummed, turning the page as he lifted his drink to his lips. 

“Redecorating hasn’t been enough of a challenge?” He asked after a moment. 

“Well it was, but I’m nearly through. The only room in the house that I haven’t touched is yours.”

“And why is that?” His eyes slid toward you, and the sudden shock of blue made your stomach flip. You shrugged a little, shaking your head. 

“I didn’t think you’d want me to.” 

Thomas nodded before he turned back to the pages. The two of you fell into silence, and you leaned in a little, reading over his shoulder.  

“...Dinner’ll be ready soon,” You told him after a few moments. He nodded, blowing smoke out of the side of his mouth, away from you. 

“What’re we having?” 

“Roast chicken.” 

“Vegetables?” 

“Potatoes and carrots.” 

“Gravy?” 

“Of course. I’m not an animal.” 

Thomas huffed a soft laugh through his nose. He turned his head toward you a little, his lips brushing your temple. The touch made your eyes slide closed, your stomach fluttering at the sensation. You were so caught up that you nearly missed what he said next:

“We’re going to London tomorrow.” 

You frowned, glancing up toward him. “Why?” 

“I’ve a meeting.” 

“A meeting that involves me?” 

“I want you with me.” He turned his head a little more, nuzzling lightly against your hair. “Besides, it’ll be good for you to get out of the house for a bit.” 

“I get out enough.” 

“I think you could do with a bit more.” 

You hummed thoughtfully before you leaned away, patting his thigh lightly. 

“I’ll go check on the bird.” 

You only managed to get up and take a single step before Thomas caught hold of your hand. You glanced back as he raised it to his lips, brushing a tender kiss to your knuckles. The action was so small, yet so intimate that it made your breath catch in your throat. He gave your hand a squeeze before letting go of it, letting his arm drift up to rest on the settee. You turned away, hurrying toward the kitchen. 

Once you were alone, you braced your hands on the counter, drawing in a deep breath and pushing it out again. Your skin seemed to tingle where he kissed it, and you glanced down, as if you could see some discernible change. You shook your head, shaking your hand before you turned to the oven. 

Dinner, get dinner together. You could worry about Thomas’ touch and the trip to London later. 

Next Part

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[heavencanbeaprisontoo]

Imagine Being Thomas Shelby's Twin

Platonic!Shelby Family x Fem!Reader

Various x Shelby!Reader Warnings: Angst, fluff, mentions of past childhood neglect, period-typical sexism. The image below is just to visualize what a twin for Tommy could look like.

“You’re left, I’m right, therefore I’m never wrong.”

Aside from Polly, you know Tommy’s mind the best.

As children, you and Tommy were always together. Tommy would lead the way as you raced from one misadventure to the next. As his right hand it was your obligation to help him execute his tricks. Of which you were eager to join.

It was a common joke between you and Tommy to pretend to read each other’s minds. You would take hours practicing how to mirror each other’s body language and finishing each other’s sentences. The payoff was always excellent, and it resulted in most of Birmingham believing that the two of you had a genuine psychic link. Even as adults, you like to behave as if you can communicate telepathically. With how in tuned you are to one another, that ability could very well be real. 

As teenagers, you and Tommy drifted apart somewhat. He was always on the move. There was always some plot, some brawl, some girl. You were more than willing to help, but you became more of a thinker than a doer. Tommy could see that, and so he left you out in favor of using your brothers instead. Which hurt.

Although Tommy would grow into a prideful young gangster, he was still a dreamer. He would stay up late with you to go over his dreams and schemes. Together, you drafted up a gilded vision of what the Shelby family could be someday. To you, it was a lovely idea. To him, it was a bright future.

Back then, the days were bright and filled with laughter. You had a long line of admirers for your brothers to chase off, and Tommy had an equally long line of girls for you to warn. You used to walk on the sunnier side of life. Always thinking about the good in the world and prone to smoothing over the uglier parts to hide them away. Tommy used to say you had a “head full of flowers.” 

Things changed after the war. 

You absolutely joined your brothers in the war as a volunteer nurse. It was hard to leave home, but you had to stand by your brothers. Nothing could have prepared you for what lied ahead. 

Tommy was a different person when he came back, so were you. You still liked to laugh and dance, but your laugh felt hollow. He started talking about changing the family’s fortune much more often. Almost every night after the war he would stay up with you, planning all the ways he could strike gold. This time, you weren’t just dreaming, you were plotting right along with him. 

No matter the cost, you would see your family rise.

Aside from Polly, you know Tommy’s mind the best. You know when he’s lying, even when he’s lying to himself. When nobody can get through to him, they go to you. For your siblings, you act as an excellent sounding board for their potential requests or inquiries. Of course, Tommy can always tell when John or Arthur had spoken to you before pitching an idea to him… but it’s fine.

You are the right to his left and the heart to his mind. Together, you two are dangerously close to a functioning human being.

To Tommy, you are a sensitive spot. He bends easier to demands you make and he tends to listen more to your words. You are also someone that makes him very vulnerable. There are things Tommy has told you that no one knows about, not even Grace.

If you must accompany him to meet with potential associates and rivals, he keeps you close. 

That certainly hasn’t stopped certain men from trying to charm you. Billy Kimber, Darby Sabini, Alfie Solomons, Luca Changretta, Jack Nelson, and (sadly) Mr. Oswald Moseley. All the boys can’t help but turn their heads as you walk by. And it leaves your brother mildly stressed as they lose focus on the meeting to watch you reapply your lipstick.

Oswald seems the most determined to have his way with you. Something about having you would be the greatest victory against Tommy, fucking his precious twin. Luckily, you see through him and are disgusted. The same cannot be said for other would-be suitors.

Alfie Solomons has a sort of rawness that you find refreshing. He speaks in riddles and yet is unblinkingly straightforward. You like the way he tips his hat to you. Luca Changretta is one man you still think about at night. Had the mess with Angel Changretta never happened, you feel like you could've been happily married to a man like Luca. Jack Nelson has caused you almost as many problems as Alfie. He speaks plainly but not without calculation. The way he flirts is so smooth you forget it's happening. Tommy has refused your offers to go to America in his stead.

When and if you marry, it’s likely the marriage would be to someone Tommy sees as an asset. He won’t just let his good twin marry some oaf with no prospects. Expect him to demand a bride price for you along with a caravan filled with goods. 

For Tommy, you are his humanity. The side of him that still sees God in all things. The part of him that may yet go to heaven when she dies. Tommy must protect you, even as he resents you. If he were to ever lose you, God save his enemies.

[loverhymeswith]

I am thinking of a fic with Tommy to “the lakes” by Taylor Swift. Maybe the reader is trying to escape the criminal lifestyle, and essentially is begging Tommy to come away with her to live in the country away from all the danger… But he just can’t seem to let go. There’s a sort of comfort in the chaos for him. Lots of angst I think.

Calamitous Love

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x F!Reader

Summary: Enough is enough. You present Tommy with an ultimatum.

Word Count: 1.4K

Warnings: Pure angst, swearing

A/N: Thank you for the request, Anon. This was heavily inspired by season six. Thank you @a-reader-and-a-writer for the beta ❤️

In the early hours of the morning, you watch him leave.

Dense fog shrouds the grounds of the Arrow House estate, but amidst the dull, muted grey, the pitch black stallion is a dark silhouette, harsh hooves crunching over the gravel as it gallops along the length of the driveway and beyond, towards the rolling Warwickshire hills.

With a heavy heart, you relinquish your vigil at the window, the linen curtains falling back into place as you sweep across the bedroom, concern quickening your pace.

Like the consumption currently ravaging the nation, sleep’s reluctance to claim your husband is contagious, his torment and madness spreading through the cursed house and infecting all those in its path.

You’d fought again, this evening. The same old story. How much more was he prepared to lose before enough was enough? Couldn’t he just rest?

But these days, getting a sensible response out of Thomas Shelby is akin to drawing blood from stone. 

You dress in darkness. Riding boots and a woollen coat to protect you from the autumn chill. Silent footsteps along the hallway and whispered words through Frances’ door; a harried plea for her to watch over the children. It pains you to leave them, but - one way or another - this will be the last time.

It’s quiet outside as dawn prepares to break over the crest of the hills; a stillness in the air, charged and expectant, even beyond the blanket of fog. The stable boys won’t report for duty for another hour, but you can saddle your own horse or better still, ride bareback. Years of banquets and ballrooms haven’t yet turned you soft. 

You take the white mare; the gentle creature is your favourite. Beneath her calm exterior, there’s a wildness threatening to escape. Her pace might be no match for Thomas’ horse, but she’s a kindred spirit, requiring no instruction as she breaks into a gallop and follows in the black stallion’s wake. 

The wind whips your face as you ride across the foothills and dales, mist and drizzle plastering strands of damp hair to your brow. Tears stream down your burning cheeks as you clutch the reins tightly. When was the last time you felt so alive? So free?

It was long before politics. Before the Italians and the Irish. Before bookmaking and Billy Kimber. Before the war.

Before death had set up camp outside your front door.

The sun has risen by the time you reach him, rays of watery light escaping through the silver haze. Perched atop the rocky outcropping, your husband is a lone figure, surveying his kingdom from the mountain peak. You know why he came here: isolation; solitude; remorse.

As soon as you dismount, your mare trots off in search of the stallion. She has no desire to bear witness to this conversation. Sensible girl. 

White smoke curls around Tommy’s head as you approach, his grey cap is discarded on the rock face along with a handful of spent cigarettes. The subtle shift of his shoulders is the only indication he is aware of your presence.

The words, well-rehearsed despite your fervent reluctance to speak them over the last ten years, catch in your throat, but you can put this off no longer. It’s now or never.

“I’m leaving, Thomas.” Your voice breaks, just as you knew it would, each bitter syllable burning your tongue.

Any sense of relief you hoped to feel is unforthcoming; the ever-present tightness in your chest remains. You’re not sure what you expected… something rather than nothing. Tangible evidence of the weight of your words. But perhaps, like the consequences of a vengeful curse, patience is in order.

Tommy stubs out his cigarette but makes no move to turn around. Maybe you should have been brave enough to face him while you spoke, but it’s easier this way. Those blue eyes get you every damn time.

“You came all the way out here just to tell me that, eh?” 

His tone is entirely devoid of emotion, just as it has been for the last seven months. Even when you fight, he doesn’t get angry anymore. Once upon a time he would trade you, blow for blow. Now, he simply walks away.

“You can’t shut the door on me out here.”

Slowly, as if it’s causing him great pain to do so, Tommy looks over his shoulder. His cold stare is as lifeless as his words. “What do you want me to say? Sounds like your mind's made up.”

You didn’t come here for an argument. The fight finally left you last night when he didn’t follow you to bed. Instead of arming yourself with more words, as ineffectual as the weapons that have tried to kill him over the years, you slip out of your boots and pad barefoot across the wet grass. 

Kneeling on the ground before him, you take his face between your hands, his skin as chilled as your own. You force yourself to look at him. To really see him. Glacial eyes, rung by dark shadows, have lost their sparkle; his cheeks are sharper, his chapped lips drawn tight and his strong brow furrowed. A shade of the man you once knew. 

“What happened to you, my love?”

Tommy looks away, freeing himself from your touch, and you force yourself to ride out the heart-stopping wave of hurt alone. You both know the answer. Some things don’t need to be spoken out loud.

“I’m leaving,” you repeat, more softly this time, reaching for his hands, “but I don’t want to go without you.”

The truth hangs heavy in the air between you. And it is the truth. Despite the constant pain… despite the insurmountable grief that his actions have wrought, you still want him. You can’t bear to imagine life without him; Thomas Shelby, your calamitous love.

Tommy allows you to lace his fingers together with your own. He has the courtesy, at least, to meet your gaze when he responds.

“There is business.”

You squeeze his hand. “Fuck business. I don't belong here Tommy, and neither do you.”

“You think I don’t know that, eh?” A cocktail of sorrow and anger spills through the cracks in his words. “You think I don’t hear that every minute of every day? The workers say I’ve betrayed them. The rich will never accept me as one of their own.”

“Since when did Tommy Shelby ever feel the need to fit in?”

With your free hand, you stroke his cheek. His eyes shutter as he leans into your touch, his warm breath visible as he exhales into the frigid air. “I’m trying to make a difference.”

“Is changing the world really worth risking your family?” 

You don’t wait for him to answer. Your knees are straining against the cold ground and you climb into his lap instead, surprised when he doesn’t resist. It’s been too long since he held you this close and you welcome the warmth of his arms as they wrap around your waist.

“I’m not cut out for this. For any of it,” you tell him calmly as he tucks you beneath his chin. “I’ve stood by your side through all of it. I thought I could handle whatever they had to throw at us. The vendettas, the Russians. We’ve survived so much. But I don’t want to just survive anymore, Tommy. I want to live.”

You feel the weight of his lips as he kisses your head. “I need time. Just a bit longer, eh. And then it will all be over. I promise.”

You’ve heard it all before and God, how you wish you could believe him. You’ve no doubt he means it, and maybe it is the truth. Maybe this time, it will stick. 

“But at what cost?” You wonder aloud. Because Tommy knows as well as you do that there’s always a price. A payment demanded in blood. 

Shelby blood.

“If you want to leave, I won’t stop you.”

You untangle yourself from his embrace, all the better to face him. You need to be brave enough now. You need him to understand.

“I know you think you have no limitations. Maybe you don’t. Maybe they’re right about you, after all. Maybe you are a god, or the devil himself, Tommy Shelby. But I can’t stand by and wait around to find out.”

After you’ve allowed your words to sink in, you press your lips - now unburdened - to Tommy’s.  Recognition, realisation, flashes across his face - this is one battle he will never win. Hands fisting in your hair, he pulls you closer, sealing your goodbye with a feverish kiss. 

When you eventually ride back through the valleys and mountains, you are alone.

Tommy Taglist: @a-reader-and-a-writer @crysxtal @simpforbuckyb @shynovelist @amberpanda99 @globetrotter28 @iammrsrogers @dragonsondragons @butterfly-lover @sunshineyourethebesttime @iwantmyredvelvetcupcake @breezy2and2freezy @fia-thefirst @dreamy-caramel @trixie23

[shelbystales]

Honor and Blood - Part Twenty

Tommy Shelby x Reader - Masterlist

Read previous parts here:  1 -  2  -  3  -  4 -  5 -  6 -  7 -  8 -  9 -  10 -  11 - 12 -  13 -  14 -  15 - 16 - 17 - 18 - 19

Summary: you are a gypsy and your family lives near Birmingham. Tommy Shelby needs a favor and Johnny Dogs says you’re the one he should ask for. A meeting is scheduled and when Tommy meets you, he is instantly drawn to you.

Warning: Swearing, angst

A/N:  Please comment and interact. tell me what you think! it means a looot to me if you do!

English is my second language so I apologize in advance for the grammar mistakes.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

"Y'know, Red, sometimes I think you don't take what I say too seriously," Billy remarked, lounging in his chair with his feet up on his office desk.

"Ah, I do," Red replied, trying to hide his building anger.

"I gave you simple instructions. Find the fucking weapons," he said as if it were a breeze, "but here you are, playing house."

"I'm out there looking for answers," Red shot back.

"Right, but we already have the answers, Red," he shrugged. "When you're out there asking who has the weapons, the answer is unanimous, isn't it?"

Duke nodded in agreement, "The Peaky Blinders."

"Yeah, easy peasy. So do something about it," he said, removing his feet from the desk and leaning in with his forearms on the table to get closer to Duke. "The shop was a warning. You don't want the next one to be the depot with those expensive machines your lovely daughter bought, do you?" he taunted. Duke was seething with anger.

"I've been doing me best to find out where they are," Duke responded, giving Kimber a deathly glare.

"Have you really? The Red I know would have had Thomas Shelby tied to a chair, bleeding the answer from his mouth. I hope your lovely daughter isn't the one to blame in here” Kimber continued.

"Keep her out of this," Duke warned, his voice laced with tension, which only seemed to amuse Kimber further.

"Please, Daddy, don't hurt him," Kimber taunted, his words dripping with sarcasm. Duke's grip tightened on the armchair, his knuckles turning white from the force of his grasp. "I need to know who's loyal, Red. You know what happens to those who prove disloyal to me. Maybe the shop wasn’t enough incentive? Should I pay her a visit?"

In that moment, Duke visualized himself vaulting over the table, his small yet sharp knife carving a vicious path across Kimber's throat, from ear to ear.

"There's no need," Duke said, rising to his feet. "I'll get your bloody guns." He left Kimber's office, a wave of nausea washing over him. He couldn't believe he was being pushed around like this by a man like Kimber. 

Walking down the streets, Duke's mind raced with conflicting emotions. He couldn't shake off the feeling of being manipulated by Kimber, a man he despised. He clenched his fists, a physical manifestation of the storm raging within him. 

He was used to being the one in control, the mastermind behind the scenes. But now, his power was slipping through his fingers, and he hated every moment of it.

Meanwhile, you were at the camp, organizing the house and preparing for a small meeting to address the concerns of your group. Your group was sizeable, but not as large as the Less family. While they had around 50 people, your group consisted of about thirty.

"What are we going to do when the money runs out?" someone asked, their worry evident in their voice.

"Is it even worth going back? What if they do it again?" another voice chimed in.

"What's the point of our efforts if we'll just be crushed? Maybe we should head south, follow the sun," another member suggested.

You listened attentively to the concerns of everyone. You understood each person's perspective, as they talked among themselves, fueling each other's fears with questions and doubts.

"I know things aren't going as planned," you began, your voice cutting through the chatter, "but we can't let them win. Whoever they are. If they slap us, we offer them the other cheek. We're not afraid of wolves, we're not afraid of bears, so why should we fear them?" you spoke, capturing everyone's attention. "We're fine, we have food, and we have a decent stash of money to fall back on if needed. You don’t have to worry about that, let me worry about that. We'll resume our lives as if nothing happened, because this is just another obstacle in our path. In the meantime, we keep learning how to use the machines, we need to learn how to make clothes to start selling them. We can sell them on the streets or at fairs like before. We'll find a way. What we can't do is let fear guide us, never."

"The city council is going to inspect the shop tomorrow," your brother spoke at your side, "as soon as they give us the green light for construction and repairs, we'll start taking action."

“The Shelbys are helping us to find the one responsible for this, and trust me, they will” you added 

Your words had a soothing effect on your people, calming their nerves. To shift the focus and lighten the atmosphere, you asked about one of your cousin's upcoming marriage plans. The topic transitioned smoothly, and you spent the next few minutes discussing and excitedly planning for the future.

As the conversation shifted towards happier subjects, the worries and fears that had been hanging in the air slowly dissipated. Laughter and smiles replaced the tension. 

"Good save there," your brother said as you two found yourselves alone. "You always know how to handle things well."

"It's always good to remember that bad moments aren't just bad.Hey, did you see Dad?" you asked, noticing his absence.

“No, he left right after breakfast” he answered making you frown

Where the hell is he? you wondered

**

Duke went to the Garrison in search of Thomas, but he stumbled upon someone even more suitable – Arthur Shelby Sr. He took a seat beside the family patriarch, and they started to drink. Well, Arthur started to drink. Duke, on the other hand, discreetly discarded his drink whenever he had the chance.

Duke attempted to steer the conversation towards the guns, asking Arthur about them. As anticipated, the old man was clueless about it all. Instead, he rambled on about his plans and investment ideas – a bunch of nonsense that Duke paid little attention to.

The situation became more intriguing when Arthur Shelby, the eldest son, joined them at the table after a bit of convincing from his father.

Duke waited for the right moment to bring up the subject. In the meantime, he allowed the Shelbys to drink themselves into a stupor. He took the time to observe the atmosphere at the Garrison, taking note of the young bartender who seemed a bit too engrossed in the conversation at their table. Nosy one, he thought.

"You know what I'm sick of?" Duke finally spoke up, seeing that the two Shelbys were already stumbling over their words.

"Tell us, Duke, what's bothering you?" Arthur Sr. asked with a grin.

"I can't stand this whole gun business anymore. It's all the newspapers talk about, it's all people discuss on the streets. Today, I went to the restroom, and the guy next to me was blabbering about it while he was taking a piss!" Duke exclaimed, pretending to be agitated. Both Arthurs burst into laughter.

"Don't even get me started on those damn guns," Arthur said, downing the contents of his glass in one gulp. "I got beaten up over this bloody mess, and I didn't even do a damn thing!" He shook his head, frustration evident on his face. "All because of Tommy," he muttered under his breath, just loud enough for Duke to hear. "I got a thrashing for nothing!" Arthur's voice grew louder.

"Hey, but you're tough, huh?" Arthur Sr. chimed in, putting his arm around his son. Arthur grinned, pleased with his father's recognition.

"Tommy?" Duke questioned, not attaching much importance to what had just been said. "His fault for what?"

"Oh, nothing. He's just a pain, that's all," Arthur said, deflecting the topic. Duke leaned back in his chair as the Arthurs began discussing boxing matches.

He realized that he wouldn't be able to extract any more information from the two Arthurs and decided to go straight to the source for answers.

Thomas lifted his gaze from the documents in front of him to see your father standing at the doorway of his office.

“Duke? What are you doing here?” Thomas asked, surprised.

"We need to have a serious talk," Duke replied firmly, walking inside and closing the door behind him. 

Thomas stood up and poured two glasses of whisky, handing one to Duke. Despite the gesture, Duke didn't show much interest in the drink. He got straight to the point. "I know you have the guns, kid."

Thomas's face remained composed, but his eyes gave away a flicker of surprise. He took a slow sip from his own glass, buying himself a moment to gather his thoughts.

“You do now, eh?” he asked, voice firm. as he sat down

Duke leaned forward, his gaze intense. "Don't play games with me, Thomas”

Thomas leaned back in his chair, a hint of a smile playing on his lips. "And what exactly do you want from me, Duke? You want me to admit to something I didn't do? You want a confession?"

Duke's jaw clenched. "I want the truth”, he said sitting on the chair in front of Thoma's desk

"And what will you do with it?" Thomas asked, his gaze locked firmly onto Duke's eyes.

Duke's expression remained stern as he leaned back in his chair. "Depends on what the truth is."

Thomas took another sip of his whisky, his mind racing. He had to choose his words carefully, weighing the risks and benefits of revealing any information.

He wondered if you knew that your father was here, if you knew what he was doing. But he assumed you didn’t. 

Thomas held his gaze steadily, his own thoughts working overtime behind his calm facade. What would he do if he found out? Thomas wondered, thinking the events that would follow.

“You don’t want the truth, Duke,” Thomas finally spoke, his tone measured and deliberate. Duke's reaction was immediate and explosive.

"You stupid child!" Duke's voice thundered through the room, his frustration and anger exploding as he stood and paced the room. Thomas remained composed despite the outburst, his demeanor unflinching. “i need those guns” 

“Why?” Thomas asked, lighting himself a cigarette.

Duke didn’t answer, he just watched Thomas, considering his moves. He couldn't hurt Thomas, no… you would never forgive him. but he couldn't risk you as well. Kimber was threatening you and he couldn't have you hurt.

“What does Kimber have on you, Duke?” Thomas finally mustered the courage to ask, catching the man off guard. The question hung heavy in the air, the tension palpable between them.

He took a deep breath and sank back into the chair across from Thomas. He felt defeated, realizing that either way, he would come out on the losing end, and you would be harmed in the process. In that moment, he considered that Thomas might be his only way out.

"Helena’s death was me fault," he replied, rubbing his face wearily.

"Who's Helena?" Tommy frowned, his brows furrowing in confusion.

"Y/n's mom," Duke answered, his voice low and filled with regret 

"I remember you mentioning that she was poisoned," Thomas spoke, trying to piece together the puzzle as he took a drag from his cigarette.

"Yeah, by Kimber himself. You know, I didn't think he would actually do it," Duke shrugged. "I worked for that fucker for a very long time. When he threatened her, I thought he was just talking. Empty words. And then he gave me a bracelet, told me to give it to her, a wedding gift. There was something in that bracelet that poisoned her. Day by day, she got sick. I gave her the bracelet. Me. When she passed, he told me what he did"

Thomas's face hardened as he processed the revelation. He understood the weight of Duke's guilt and the complexity of the situation.

Hearing that information about your mother would undoubtedly be a shock to you. The revelation that she was deliberately poisoned, and that your father had inadvertently played a role in her death, would stir up a mix of emotions within you.

“Y/n can’t know,” Duke said, his voice carrying a warning tone.

“Duke, you didn’t do anything willingly. It's not your fault,” Thomas stated, trying to ease the heavy burden of guilt that Duke carried.

Duke shook his head, his eyes filled with remorse. “I was fooled, Thomas. I should have seen through his games. I should have protected her. It's on me. I will carry that guilt into me grave” he breathed heavily “and now... he’s threatening y/n, i won’t make the same mistake and assume his words are empty”

“What?” Thomas asked, his brows furrowing as he leaned forward, immediately concerned for your safety. He couldn't bear the thought of you being in danger.

“He was the one who burned the shop. He thinks I'm not doing a good enough job searching for the guns,” Duke explained.

“What does he want with those bloody guns, anyway?” Thomas asked, a hint of frustration in his voice.

“He said something about going after the Sabinis” 

“The Sabinis? That's a big step” Thomas said, connecting the dots. 

Thomas leaned back in his chair, his mind racing as he considered the implications of this new information. He took a contemplative sip of his whisky, his eyes fixed on the amber liquid.

Duke wondered if what he was doing was the right thing or the worst mistake he could have ever made. But the thing is, Thomas cared for you and well, maybe that was enough. 

“I’ll keep y/n safe. I’ll do me best, I promise you” Thomas said after a while of thinking. “We need to be smart. Kimber is a greedy man, maybe we can use that to our advantage. I’ll think of something and I’ll let you know as soon as possible” 

Duke nodded and held his hand for Thomas to shake, Thomas reached out and firmly shook Duke's hand, their grip a silent agreement to work together. No more words were needed.

Duke left Thomas' office, headed home.  

“Fuck” thomas whispered feeling stressed, he downed the whisky in front of him and begin to work some sort of plan in his head. Your safety being his biggest concern.

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[duckietiewritestoo]

Wishing (Thomas Shelby x Reader)

Do I know how to write Thomas Shelby? No. So get this cringey idea was I toying around with.

WARNINGS: Cringe, cringe, cringe, and a little bit too long.

~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_

Freedom was all I asked for. 

It was in my dreams, trapped in my mind, and rattling the cages. My wish was to leave this place behind for France or for London. I was tied to it, I wanted to tear from it. I never meant to get myself roped in with Billy Kimber. Long ago I was out on the streets, unable to shield myself from beatings and harsh nights outside. I needed help and I was desperate for anything to get it. I earned and stole the money. Kimber had the needed protection I wanted, and he provided whenever I paid him. I owed Kimber my life.

But I couldn’t keep stealing, and my jobs weren’t always steady. It wasn’t so easy to keep them with my records and dirt on my name. Eventually, I kept telling Kimber I’d pay him next month, and then the next. My debt built up.

I owed him more than my life.

Kimber said he’d pay off my debts, if I only worked for him, and did what he asked without question. He kept me in chains I dragged around with me. It kept me down, heavier than my own guilt. I did his dirty work, I took care of the people he didn’t like, and I did it with no hesitation. It took a toll on me, but I needed it, I needed my freedom. I wouldn’t be his slave for long.

I never thought of saying no. Running away wasn’t an option. He’d find me.

The night was cold and young. I sat on the sidewalk, watching the stars twinkle and shine. I waited patiently for a car to drive by. Kimber had gone for the night and locked up his office. He promised to drive me home. He never delivered on that, so I just sat on the sidewalk, watching the night sky. A few stars started shooting across the scene, streaking the black sky with paints of gold. My heart skipped a beat. It was a beautiful sight. The child in me wanted to wish on them. It was foolish, I knew that, but a little bit of wishing never hurt. So I clasped my hands together and closed my eyes, lowering my head.

“Please, I’ll make a wish for this night only. I wish to be free,” I whispered, begging the heavens. “Please, please, please, please. That’s all I’m asking for, please.”

I waited, and waited, thinking some miracle would come my way. It didn’t. My idea was truly foolish. I carried myself down the street on tired feet and my head hanging low. There was no such thing as wishing. I stood up, my eyes still on the sky. The dark clouds were rolling in quite quickly. They were storm clouds judging from their thick gray color. Rain fell down in buckets without a warning.

The Garrison was warm and dry this time of night. Tired workers and people seeking a drink came in. I was dripping wet. The pub was dimly lit, filled with laughter and chatter. I shivered from the cold, approaching the bar counter. The bartender was a bit shocked to see me, like he had seen a ghost. I must have looked awful, wet and pale, freezing to death. I sat down at the counter, the stool creaking under me. It trembled too from how badly I was freezing. My teeth chattered. It was getting worse.

A drink slid down the counter towards me. I hadn’t even ordered anything. It was a small shot glass of whiskey. I looked at the direction it came from and there sat the enemy of the man I worked for. Our eyes met and there was an electrical tension between us. His bright blue eyes burned into my soul, like he was judging me. If Thomas Shelby knew who I was, I was in deep trouble.

He got up from his chair, taking long strides for a small walk to get to me. I couldn’t break our gaze, his eyes kept locked with mine. My breath hitched, I wasn’t even breathing at this point.

“Hello.”

“Um…” He laughed. It was like honey in my ears, sweet for someone like him. My heart skipped a beat.

“Don’t be shy, I don’t bite,” he replied softly. He sat down, giving me a toothy smile. Something was up. I knew Thomas Shelby, I spied on him. I knew his tactics and his behavior.

“You don’t bite because you want something.”

“Seems you’ve learned,” he answered calmly. That smirk stayed plastered on his face. “You’re a good observer, I’ll give you that. Now tell me, what’s your real name?” I raised an eyebrow.

“Pardon?”

“I know you’re (Name), but how true is that? What lies have you spun just to protect yourself?” he asked. His hand hovered over mind, feeling the warmth of his skin. I snatched my hand away from his. Thomas laughed. “Too shy?”

“No, I’m just careful,” I replied.

“But clearly you weren’t careful enough, joining Kimber and letting your life fall perfectly apart. Let me guess, he left you in the cold after promising you a drive home?” Thomas replied, raising an eyebrow. My heart stopped. 

“How did you know?” I asked quietly. 

“Kimber isn’t the only one with spies,” Thomas replied. “Besides, you’re soaking wet head to toe, no doubt shivering to death.” He took off his coat and in one swift moment it was draped over my shoulders, weighing me down a bit. “I’m not blind, (Name), I see what’s happening. So I have an offer. Might as well tell you now, can’t keep toying with you. I have an offer.”

“Oh?” His laugh was low and soft. Thomas sat closer. The heat from the jacket was enough. I was warming up, blushing from how close he was.

“I’ll protect you at all costs for Kimber’s dirty secrets. I’ll house you, clothe you, and feed you,” he said. “All for his information on…everything.”

“Everything?”

“Yes, everything,” he replied. “I’ll keep you safe in exchange for everything on Kimber.”

I knew it was wrong, making a deal with the devil again. I couldn’t do it, yet the offer was tempting. The chains would only add on until they dragged me under, but the burden was worth it. His eyes weren’t telling me lies, yet I didn’t trust Thomas. Still, I had no other option. If he swore to protect me at all costs, then I would trust him with my life

I was provided with a guest room in Thomas Shelby’s own house. I was fed three meals a day, or whenever I felt like eating. Every evening I would spend it with Tommy, spilling Kimber’s secrets once he was finished with his dinner. As a result, the Peaky Blinders were making moves that were hurting Kimber and his business.  His family was suspicious of me, but they knew what Thomas had planned and treated me with respect.

They didn’t treat me kindly, rather more like a stranger, but I was treated with respect.

But one night it all changed. Two days in, and I was already being hunted out of fear by Kimber. Thomas did well protecting me at all costs. He kept his promise. The glass had shattered all over the place, nearly scaring me to death and I screamed. I saw it in his eyes when he came bursting through the door, his eyes filled with what seemed like genuine fear. It was quickly replaced with anger the second he was the man who had broken in.

Kimber found out I betrayed and left him for his enemy. His solution? It was to send a hired killer after me to slice my throat in the middle of the night. Or at least that’s what I assumed after seeing the knife in hand. Tommy was quick with his trigger finger. Other gang members were clearing up the scene. The light spilled in from the hallway, the shadows of his men moving back and forth. The guest room door was opened all the way. Men carried the body out, dragging the corpse across the floor. Thomas looked at me, panting. His lips were slightly parted.

“Are you okay?”

“Um…I’m a bit scared, but I’ll be fine.” Tommy sat on the edge of the bed. There was a flicker of sincerity in his eyes. 

“Sleep with the door open tonight. I’m not breaking it down again just to get to you,” he said calmly. I chuckled.

“Oh really?”

“Yes really. Now, go to bed,” Tommy replied, moving to get up. I laid back in bed. 

“Fine.”

“Good.”

“Alright….Goodnight, Tommy,” I said. His gaze softened and he smiled.

“Goodnight.”

The room was dimly lit by a small candle melting its last bit of wax. Tommy sat at the opposite end of the room, his legs propped up on the desk. His blue eyes were focused intensely on the paper he read. I held my own papers in my hands, copies of fees, bills, reports, and receipts Tommy’s men stole for me. I couldn’t focus on the words. I knew they were correct bits of information, yet my mind was elsewhere.

I was bored.

A whole month in the Shelby household and I was still in the house, unable to leave this place and just go back home. I missed my bed. I wasn’t complaining about the lavish bed I had now, but I missed my home. Tommy kept me here, claiming it was to keep me safe and that Kimber’s men would be waiting for me at home. His promises felt an awful lot like Kimber’s, keeping me trapped behind windows and walls that weren’t even my own home.

Wait, that sounded wrong. 

Tommy hummed to himself, turning the paper around and it pulled me out of my thoughts. I stopped what I was doing and looked at him. He gazed up at me, simply staring into my eyes. I felt embarrassed. Why was he staring at me? My cheeks reddened. 

“You’re staring,” he finally said.

“I know.”

“Why?” I put the papers to rest on my lap.

“I’m bored.”

“So?” He was not one for words. Neither was I. But I would express myself.

“I want to get out of the house, please,” I begged.

“But you know exactly the risks of leaving this house, and I am not losing my best source of information.” I scoffed. He really pulled that card out?

 “I’m suffocating in here, I need to be out there!” I paused, only for a minute. “You’re just like him…”  Tommy put his paper down. He was contemplating my words. I was too desperate. The boredom gnawed away at the back of my mind. I itched to go outside, even for a second. I had to leave. I needed to leave. 

Finally,Tommy let out a heavy sigh, almost as if the words about to leave his mouth were taking a heavy toll on him. His gaze softened, and I saw something I couldn’t place my finger on.

“Fine, but on one condition.”

“Yes?”

The horse nickered, going back and forth. The grassy ground was a few feet below me, but from this height, I felt like falling off could kill me. I gripped the saddle straps tightly to the point my knuckles turned white. I was too tense and scared to relax. This was my first time riding a horseI didn’t see how this was a condition.

“I’m not certain about this, Tommy,” I said, looking back at him. His hands firmly held my waist. The saddle was large enough for two. I asked.

 Without a word, Tommy  took the reins from my hands and urged the horse. I screamed. The horse took off, its silky mane flowing in the wind. I held on for dear life. If Kimber wasn’t going to get to me, the horse was. 

I looked back at Tommy. “Can we slow down?!” I exclaimed. Tommy laughed. He actually laughed. That was a first for me.

“Come on, live a little,” he said, grinning. That smile really fit his perfect features. I blushed. Seeing him smile made my heart flutter. He was happy. Was this real? Or was it in my head?

The cold wind in my face told me otherwise. I was wide awake, riding a horse with Thomas Shelby.

So, I decided to let go. Because, why not?

I extended my arms, letting the wind brush by. I laughed out loud, starting to smile. I could see why Tommy was enjoying this. I felt alive. Tommy kept his hands holding me tight so I wouldn’t fall off.

The horse ran on for miles, passing by trees and bushes. The field was empty and it wasn’t quiet. I was laughing too hard. And Tommy laughed harder.

Eventually he had to breathe for air.

The horse slowed down, finding solace in the middle of the field. Tommy and I got off, resting in the grass. I leaned against his shoulder. The breeze flowed through the grass, shaking it gently.

“Thank you,” I muttered, looking up at Tommy. He lit a cigarette, sticking it between his teeth. He took in a long drag before releasing it.

“Anytime, darling,” he said, smirking. “If you ever need to leave the house for any reason, call me. I’ll do this again.” I blushed. That was considerate of him. He was willing to take me out again? Really? I smiled, hugging his arm. I leaned in and pecked his cheek.

“Thanks, Tommy. You’re a wish come true.” He scoffed.

“Oh, I wish that were true.”

[creativepawsworld]

Silence - Chapter 28

Pairing = Thomas Shelby x Reader

Summary = Polly receives a telegram she is furious with and brings Ana to tame her temper. Tommy, exchanges some harsh words, leaving Ana feeling angry, upset and frustrated. 

Warnings = Language, Gang Activity, Sexual Relations, Murder, Violence, Religion, Grammar, mentions of Death

Word Count = 2647

Note = TWO updates...What? No honestly I am overwhelmed with the support this  story has been getting, honestly I can not thank you all enough. Also finally getting around to using this amazing banner by Selene @forgottenpeakywriter​ please show some love and support as it is awesome! 

The boys had returned from London a few days ago with smiles on their faces, I took that as a sign that good things happened. They achieved whatever it was they had wanted. 

Upon arriving home, Tommy had sanctioned the rebuild of The Garrison. The locals crying out for their local to be re-established. The Garrison was the heart of Small Heath for the residents of Watery Lane, Artillery Street, and Montague Street, not to mention the other surrounding areas.

I just found the idea of it hard.

“Ana come with me” Polly voice interrupted my work, looking up from the suit jacket on my desk, the woman was standing in front of me. Face like thunder, my coat in her hand.  

Glancing over at the clock on the wall, it was approaching five thirty in the evening. I had been so lost in thought I had missed out on the majority of the afternoon.

“What’s going on Polly?” I asked with a sigh, standing to my feet taking the coat from her hands putting it around my shoulders. “Father, that’s me for tonight.” I call to the man who was busy making the suits for the Italians, all I got was a nod in response.

He insisted on making the suits himself, keeping all the expensive materials by his desk. If I had so much as looked in the direction, he would send me back to my desk doing the menial tasks for the locals, replacing zips, fixings holes, re-hemming trousers or fixing waistlines. 

Finishing all the tedious jobs, I opted to complete the requests of the other Peaky Blinder boys, one requesting a suit jacket, another a waistcoat. I had asked my father on numerous occasions, about who he had borrowed the money from and if he had repaid the debt yet, but each time I was met with the  same answer, I’m dealing with Ana.

“I need you there so I don’t do something I both regret” She growled, holding the door open, her pace a lot faster than her usual walk as she marched towards the Shelby Company Limited building. “Is he here?” She barked at Lizzie, who was sitting behind the secretary desk in the front room.

Lizzie had started working as Tommy’s secretary after he returned from London. I wasn’t entirely thrilled with the idea, but Tommy insisted that it was nothing more than a job. Lizzie helped him overcome a lot of things since he returned from the war, and this was his way of thanking her.

“No, but I am expecting him back shortly” Lizzie nodded, looking up from her typewriter, her eyes scanning over the both of us, a inquisitive look on her face as she stared at Polly. 

With another growl under her voice, Polly stomped upstairs towards his office, stripping the coat from her shoulders and pulling a letter from her purse before sitting in Tommy’s chair waiting on his return.

“Why are you so angry with Tommy?” I asked taking a seat on one of the green leather chairs in front of the desk once my coat was hung up. 

Without uttering a single word, Polly reached over giving me the paper in her hands the words Let us break bread together in the middle. Shrugging my shoulders I looked up at the older woman, confused. Did she expect me to know what that meant? 

“He has chosen to side with the Jews Ana. He has personally declared war on the Italians.”

“No, no he wouldn’t be so stupid not after everything with Billy Kimber. He promised.” I breathed out uneasy, shifting uncomfortably in my seat.

“You’re right Ana, he isn’t stupid” Her words held so much venom as she spoke. “He purposely set off to London to do this. Going to Sabini’s club, beating up his men. Arthur lost a bloody fucking tooth and for what? To prove who has the biggest dick of all?”

Polly finished, her hands shaking with absolute anger as I let the words sink in. Sabini, the name of an Italian gangster in London. A big racetrack owner in his own right.

I couldn’t help but fit pieces together in my own little jigsaw. These must be the men my father had gotten himself into so much debt with. The men requesting the ridiculously expensive suits and not paying a penny towards them.

Tommy knew who my father was in debt to when I told him the other night. After mentioning they were Italian his complete body language changed and now I find out he went to London to add fuel to the fire, was he insane?

“Newmarket was profitable” Tommy spoke walking into the office, paperwork under his arm. Polly rose to her feet as soon as he entered.

A nervous feeling overcame my chest as my stomach churned with sickness. I was trying to figure out how all of this was going to turn out. I didn’t know much about the Sabini gang, I didn’t want to, but I knew nothing good could come from it.

Nothing good ever came from being involved with gangsters. That was blantely obvious over the years.

“Arthur told me how you left your message” Polly’s voice firm as Tommy placed the paperwork on his desk, a hand on my shoulder giving it a light squeeze before walking over to the table, pouring himself a glass of the brown liquid he had become depended on.

Polly followed after him asking about Arthur’s medicine her words barely registering in my head as I held the telegram in my hand. Tommy, either completely unphased or not listening to his aunt, continuously cleared his throat, marching back to his desk to reopening the paperwork he had arrived with, Polly now next to me.

“STOP fucking fighting me” Tommy spoke, voice slightly raised along with his hand as he interrupted the words falling from her mouth.  

“Somebody has to.” Polly returned, before turning to me, hand out. Placing the paper into her hand she threw it on the desk in front of Tommy. “That arrived an hour ago, there’s no name on it but it comes from Camden Town”

Tommy lifted the paper from the desk, taking it in both hands he stared down at the words. I waited for a reaction, anything but there was nothing. 

“I was gonna burn it, should have” Polly raged, walking over to the coat rack and grabbing her coat. “Well done Tommy, you’ve picked a side now your at war with Sabini” She finished leaving the room.

Tommy not making eye contact, let the telegram fall from his hands. I could see the millions of thoughts running through his mind, his hand reaching off to the side lifting the glass of whiskey and taking a sip.

“You here to shout at me as well?” He asked, eyes staring off into the distance.

“No” I whispered, closing my eyes I leaned my elbow on the sides of the chair, resting a hand over my mouth as I fought back the sickness.

“Did you father take the money?” He asked, huffing out a breathe throwing himself back into his seat, his hands searching through his coat pockets for his packet of cigarettes.

“Did you know before you went to London that it was Sabini my father was in debt to?” I asked ignoring his question.

Tommy, leaned forward striking the match, bringing it to his lips, his eyes finally falling on mine, the tears threatening to fall as my stomach continued to twist and turn, the nausea becoming unbearable. 

“Did your father say it was Sabini he was in debt to?” He asked, eyebrows raised as he inhaled deeply on the cigarette, the smoke clouding his face as he exhaled it from his nose and mouth. 

“No, he just tells me he is dealing with it” I reply, a stray tear falling from my eye. Wiping it away quickly, I waited in silence for Tommy to answer my unanswered question.

“Probably doesn’t want to worry you” Tommy sighed, reaching forward, tipping the smoked ash into an awaiting ashtray.

Biting the side of my lip, anger began to grow in my chest, constricting around my heart as Tommy looked down at his paperwork, continuing to work as if I wasn’t in the room.

“Tommy” I spoke through gritted teeth, the tone of my voice bringing his attention to me. Looking up at me through his eyelashes, he raised a questioning eyebrow, wanting me to continue. “What happened in London? Why did you start a war?”

“To expand into London, I need to make room. Everything that happened was done out of necessity, Stace. You wouldn’t understand.”

“I wouldn’t understand” I repeated my tongue running along my bottom lip as I nodded. There he was dismissing me again.

“No, you wouldn’t. This is real business Stace not stitching together a few bits of fabric and making a suit.” Tommy spoke, his words cold, but his tone cut through me like he had just sliced me with a knife. It was filled with disgust, disrespect, dare I saw hatred?

“Fuck you Tommy.” I spat, standing forcefully to my feet, purse clutched in my hand as I made my way to the coat rack, throwing the garment around my shoulders. “At least I make an honest living unlike you, going around cutting people who look at you the wrong way like some kind of animal.”

“Eh?” Tommy yelled back, standing to his feet so fast, his chair hit off the wall behind him with an almighty bang. “An animal? You think an a fucking animal? You have no fucking idea the things I am truly capable of Anastasia, no fucking clue.”

“No because you don’t fucking let me in Tommy. You let everybody else in, Polly, Esme, Grace, fucking Lizzie but me, the woman your supposed to love is just there to keep your cock wet just like Arthur said.”

“You think your fucking here to keep my cock wet eh?” He asked, his tone dark as he rounded his desk. Three long strides and he was by me next to the door. I could feel my heart pounding in my chest as he glared down at me, his eyes unrecognisable. 

“I could have any woman keeping my cock wet Stace, Lizzie was fucking begging for it the other day. Grace still writes to me asking for it so be fucking grateful…”

His words were cut short by my hand slapping across the side of his face harshly. His head turning to the side, a red hand print showing up on his cheek as he pursed his lips together. 

“Fuck you Thomas Shelby, fuck you” I spat, tears falling from my eyes but I refused to let him see them. 

Walking around him, I marched from his office, almost running down the stairs. Lizzie was standing in the door frame of her office listening to every word, her head falling her chest, avoiding all eye contact as I passed.

Storming out into the street, the rain bounced off the ground, filling the puddles even more. The anger in my chest was just building and building as I trudged through them down the street.

The thought of him keeping his business from me hurt, but I grew used to it over the years, but keeping letters that Grace had been sending, a secret. That broke me.

Not able to contain the scream, I ducked into a nearby alleyway, assuring I was towards the end of it before letting go.

Clutching onto my chest, I screamed for as long and for as loud as I could. The sound reverberated off the walls, echoing back towards me, the sound deafening.

“Ana? Ana Adler?” A voice called from the top of the alleyway, a lanky man stood at the end. With the darkness, I couldn’t quite make him out until the match he used to light his cigarette lit up his face.

“Colin?” I called back, brushing the tears from my face as if it would make a difference. He had already witnessed me screaming into the darkness. 

“Yeah, it’s me. Everything alright?” He asked, walking closer towards me, his clothes black and dusty, after finishing his shift at the factory.

“I’ve had better days” I replied, shifting between my feet, before walking back towards the exit and into the light. I wanted to feel more comfortable being around the man I barely knew.

“Yeah I figured” He chuckled awkwardly, scratching the back of his neck with his free hand. “You scream in dark alleyways often?”

“No” I returned the laugh, shaking my head as we stood underneath a street lamp, the rain easing off slightly. “How are you? Haven’t seen you since…” I trailed off a part of me still not able to accept the words, graveyard, or funeral just yet.

“Yeah, sorry about that. I didn’t think Thomas Shelby would like another bloke sniffing around his girl, even if it were for a chat.” He inhaled, puffing on the cigarette, the smoke disappearing instantly into the night air and his lungs.

“So what’s changed?”

“You were screaming in a dark alleyway, alone. That’s, that’s what changed” He laughed, tossing the cigarette away, his hands finding his pockets for some warmth. 

“I guess that would attract anyone’s attention” I smiled back, tucking a loose strand of hair behind my ear, looking down at my feet. My cheeks were red from the embarrassment of being caught. 

“Yeah it certainly would. How are things? Are you doing okay?” Colin asked, leaning forward slightly on his feet. I was just about to take a step back when a voice I wasn’t ready to hear spoke. 

“She is doing just fine, aren’t you love.” Tommy said from behind me, his tone low, threatening as he looked at the taller gentleman.

Biting my tongue, I resisted the urge to roll my eyes as I looked at him, his eyes glaring at Colin, who had now taken a step back, hands raised in a defence position.

“I wasn’t trying to… I worked with her brother, she…I mean”

“Fuck off.” Tommy dismissed, his eyes not leaving Colin’s until he was walking back down the street, tail between his legs and out of sight. 

“What was that?” I asked, turning towards the man, a glare of my own thrown his way, but as usual, he wasn’t affected.

Whatever was going on inside his mind had preoccupied him. It was stressing him out, and he redirected that stress, that anger towards me.

“We will talk when we get home Anastasia” His voice carrying a bored tone.

Sparing me a glance, he nodded his head, silently telling me to follow. Part of me wanted to tell him to go fuck himself but the other part wanted out of the rain.  

Turning his back to me, he started walking towards the old factory warehouse, the only place he trusted his car to be parked after the incident with the Lee’s.

Sighing, I walked after him, the part of me wanting out of the rain winning. I was already soaked through and miserable, I didn't see the need to prolong it.

We walked in silence, the rain bouncing off the ground was the only sound until we rounded the corner, the factory fires billowing out, bringing a nice amber glow to the street.

Tommy walked ahead towards the car while I admired the light, a warmth coming over me, much like it had the night of the bonfire in Watery Lane all those years ago.

Taking a moment to reminisce in the fond memories, I entered in after him. My heart instantly stopped.

Tommy was now standing with his hands raised as a man exited his car, gun in hand, pointed straight at him. 

What had we just walked into?

Taglist

@shelbyteller @seleneshelby @forgottenpeakywriter @babayaga67 @sweetmilkshakeluminary @slutforcoffein @sydneyyyya @happysparklingshadows @margew76      

[talia-the-gemini]

Meeting

A/N I just want to clarify I haven't watched the peaky blinders before, and I've only watched shadow and bone season 1 and the first couple episodes. And this is my first time publishing my writing.

2 A/N This doesn't follow the current events of either show I've only used some events from shadow and bone.

Fandom - The peaky blinders x shadow and bone crossover Relationships - The peaky blinders (separate) x Brekker!reader (R) Crows x Reader (P) Kaz Brekker x sister! Reader Keys ~ (R) = romantic (P) = platonic

Trigger warnings - Mentions of Alcohol, violence, cigarettes, guns, and swearing.

Masterlist

This is not proofread.

Y/n pov

We sit in Kaz's office after a successful mission, except for a minor tussle. Sitting on the couch Jesper leans on my shoulder and Inej sits on my other side as I close her wound.

"We have another job." Kaz states while holding a slightly browning letter in his leather gloves.

"From who?" Jesper asks whilst playing with one of his guns

"A letter was sent from Birmingham, From a gang by the name of the peaky blinders."

Ineji pipes in "Why would they request a job be done by us?"

"It says that the leader Tommy Shelby requests a meeting"

"They're offering 800,000 kurge." "Spitting that 4 ways will leave us with 200,000 each."

Jesper's eyes sparkly at the thought of 800,000 kurge.

"I will send a letter back and we take leave in three days' time, So I suggest that You start packing." with that said Kaz lets us go with a nod of his head.

Leaving the boat, you slugged yourself and Kaz's bag on your shoulders whilst taking in the dull and dreary streets that had similarly to the barrel. With the aged cobblestone roads to the old & chipping brownish-orange bricks holding up houses and shops.

"Jeez, this place reeks worse than Ketterdam" I admit, scrunch my nose at the stale smell of Brimingham. Jesper hums in agreement

"Well, we need to find a bar called the Garrison" Kaz informs us holding the letter in his none occupied hand.

Walking next to Kaz I relax to the sound of his cane clacking on the gravely-cobblestone pavement we fall into to a comfortable silence with bustling city around us, we come to a sudden stop when Kaz's cane snapped Infront of us. Glancing up I see quite a large bar with a large white sign that says [The Garrison] , sort of like the crow club.

Walking in, there are many round tables scattered around the place with a bar (typical pub style). You walk up to the bar and asked " Is there a Tommy Shelby here?" the bartender walks to a small sliding window made of wood and knocked, It slips open slightly enough for the bartender to talk through.

"who's asking?" questions a gruff voice from the backroom.

"Kaz and Y/n Brekker."

A few moments of murmuring later the door to a backroom opens and we get lead in by the bartender.

The room was quite spacious for a backroom, the center stood a large table with a L shaped couch behind it, sitting on the couch are 2 men they look like brothers with a slight age gap smoking cigars, standing Infront of what might be a alcohol cabinet is another man that looks around late 20 to early 30s.

Kaz steps in front of us "So who is Tommy Shelby?"

"That would be me" the man standing replys

Inej and Kaz share a look and Kaz asks "what's the purpose of this meeting?" without showing any emotion.

"Have a seat" he says while nodding his head at the rest of us.

I sit next to Kaz, Jesper sits next to me and Inej sits on the end of the couch,motioning towards the other couch "my brothers Arthur and John Shelby".

GIF by desetincelles

"Kaz Brekker" Kaz says

"Y/n Brekker"

"Jesper"

"Inej.."

GIF by capinejghafa

"So" Tommy says while taking a seat next to his brothers "I heard you're familiar with the man named Pekka Rollins"

"Yes he's very, well known in Ketterdam" Kaz replies annoyed at the mention of pekka

"Well he's gone and partnered with our rival billy kimber"

"And how is this our problem?" Jesper interjects

"It is your problem because he should be in Ketterdam, not in Birmingham." John says agitated.

"Well what is it that you want us to do?" I say

"Kimber is hosting a party to show case his jewel that are going on the market, I want you and your crew to take them"

"And this is for 800,000 kurge correct?"

"correct"

"we need 4 days" Kaz states getting ready to stand

"deal" Tommy replies extending his hand for both of you to shake

Reluctantly Kaz and you take it

In two days time Inej managed to get the blue prints of the mansion and copy it to make a map and find an entry and exit point.

{6:00 am}

Walking into the garrison with the Peaky blinders following closely behind us we make it to the infamous room and Kaz forcefully places the map onto the table.

"I received a letter from Wylan and Nina this morning, about the crow club" Kaz says while looking at the map, then glancing at us

"What about the crow club?" Inej questions

"You know how our last job we need you but you were under contract with Heleen."

Inej hums in a unsure way

"The letter was a warning from Wylan for returning home to Ketterdam"

"Why?" Inej asks

"Because I used the crow club as collateral for your contract with Heleen.."

"What!?" You and Inej say in a panicked shock

"Kaz please tell me we still have the crow club.." you plead

Kas stay silent as the tension thickens

"The warning is because we have a warrant for our arrest..."

After Kaz's last comment there was just silence letting all the information process.

"What the fuck." Jesper mumbles

"How the fuck do we have a warrant for our arrest if we haven't been in Ketterdam?!?" You exclaim in destress

"Two words Pekka Rollins,he killed Heleen and since she's dead he has rights to her documents..." Kaz sighs

"Meaning that Pekka Rollins.. has the crow club." you say in a hushed tone, you feel like your going to faint almost forgetting the other 3 men in the room

"Awww man I had really good hats in there too" Jesper sulks

"Well the faster we finish this job the faster we can plan how to get the crow club back."

We nod in agreement

"Well here's the plan"

Notes - Hey guys I hope you all liked the first chapter and the next chapters are probably going to take a while to be published/written.

-Talia ♡

[lin-s0]

TOMMY SHELBY - IMAGINE

For your conscience

[TW: assault] ' [GIF © rightful owner]

An uneasy feeling of being watched crept in her bones as she stood at the front entrance of the Garrison. Only a few men were walking the streets, yet every single one of them had their hungry eyes pinned on her. Though the staring would have made any other woman and commonly also her more than uncomfortable, she managed to stand her ground. It wouldn't be the only time this day and probably the next few weeks, months, or even years when she worked for the Shelbys.

The rumbling sound of an engine came up to her right, causing her to come around from her thoughts.

Quickly, she walked over to the passenger seat of the car, where Thomas Shelby was nudging the door open for her.

As she climbed inside, she noticed that it was only him who was inspecting her take a seat.

"Is it only us going to the races?" She inquired as Tommy started the car.

"Something like that." Though his lips wouldn't give it away there was the tiniest of a smirk on his features.

It was something rare. Well, perhaps a smirk wasn't as rare as a genuine smile on Thomas Shelby's face.

She couldn't remember ever seeing a real smile from Thomas Shelby. The one she got to see that evening was just to make the guard believe he was a Belgian man.

He came off like a cold man. A man without empathy, tenderness, and affection. It often also looked like that to her. However, he tended to show a different side of himself when he was with her. She couldn't figure out yet, if it was for business, as the Belgian smile or if it was his true nature.

He had asked her to dance, after inspecting the dress she bought by his order.

It was a strange feeling dancing with him. Nevertheless, it felt like it was as effortless for him as everything else. He was a confident and precise dancer. His right hand placed flatly on her back, feeling like his hand could fill her entire upper body.

She could smell his cologne, along with the familiar scent of cigarettes, since he was the closest to her he had ever been.

His right hand held a safe grip on hers as he swung her around the room.

And yet there was a smile appearing on his lips. She could hardly see it from the corner of her eye, still, it seemed like the clearest and most solid thing she had ever seen.

Furthermore, she noticed him regularly checking his surroundings, as well as his pocket watch.

Suddenly, he started moving her towards one of the exits.

"So I guessed right." She spoke as he opened the door, searching for somebody.

"About what?" He asked, his eyebrows narrowly frowned.

"We are not the only ones at the races." He watched her for a moment before his elder brother, Arthur Shelby, occurred at the door.

He placed three bags, filled with something clinking, which made her take another guess; money.

"Nice dress," Arthur commented and when she glimpsed at him she noticed the blood on his left cheek.

"You should be wearing this when coming to my pub." He continued, while Tommy seemed to ignore the conversation when handling the bags.

"If there wouldn't be so many greedy men." She shot back, only causing the oldest Shelby to grin.

Tommy had meanwhile taken hold of all the bags and started shoving her back into the room. He stopped at the bar.

"A whisky for the lady." He demanded the bartender, who immediately went to work, and focused back on her.

"Wait here." He demanded, leaving her sitting alone. The bartender handed her her drink, while she watched him walk towards one of the tables. Two men, which she recognized from a few days ago. It was Billy Kimber alongside his accountant. His security was standing behind him like a giant wall of muscles and the accurate suits all of them were wearing. Next to Kimber sat a woman. There was quite a distance between them, making her question if she was his wife or not.

Tommy had sat down at the table as well after placing the bags in front of Kimber's nose.

They were deepened in their conversation, Tommy as usually with a cigarette between his lips.

Suddenly, Kimber stood up, and just now she realized, that his eyes were fixed on her. Be had the same greedy look, those men in the street of Watery Lane had earlier that day. The only difference was that the greediness only intensified when he finally stood in front of her.

"Mr. Shelby said I could have this dance." An arrogant smirk spread on his face. It made her body tense up and an uneasy feeling spread in her stomach. He had his hand reached out for her and waited patiently, looking her up and down.

She took it, pulling herself together.

He rapidly pulled her towards him, causing her to crash into his upper body. Next, he started twirling her around the room. Other than Thomas his hand was in her lower bag, occasionally pulling her in again.

Her head turned to the side, trying to get at least a bit of distance between him and herself. She made eye contact with Thomas who was watching them carefully from his seat at the table.

He seemed tense, just like her even though he was the one comfortably sitting in the chair.

"You're a good dancer," Kimber mumbled into her ear. With another pull he had her break the eye contact. Suddenly he let go of her, his hands slipped from her body and their heads got to a fair distance again.

"If you'd excuse me." He slightly bowed, playing the gentleman he certainly didn't was.

He went back to the table, sitting next to Tommy when she got back to the bar again. With a quick move, she drowned the Whiskey, the bartender gave her. The liquid pierced her throat, which wasn't even a bit as uncomfortable as the dance with Kimber.

However, she didn't know that this wouldn't be her only encounter with him that night.

Opposite, she felt a burden fall from her shoulders when Thomas approached her again.

"Listen, we got invited for dinner at Kimber's. He has a place nearby." He looked away when speaking to her, something suspicious since he normally was one to hold eye contact. And she wasn't dumb. His lack of attention, was indicator enough for her to realize something was odd. He was lying.

"I'll have some business do to first, so just go with him already and I'll meet you there, alright?"

She tilted her head, waiting with her answer until he dared to look her in the face. He did, after a small sigh.

"You want me to go with him alone?" She asked, her tone neutral to not seem like she was scared. She was.

Tommy nodded faintly, causing her to huff in annoyance.

"It won't take long, I promise." He assured, keeping eye contact. He seemed much more confident in his role now.

"You think I'm stupid?" She inquired, her eyebrows raised and a severe sparkle in her eyes. Tommy just watched her, unknowing of what to answer. It was obvious to him that she was smart and more than capable of figuring out what was going on but something in him couldn't just tell her the truth and asked her straight forward to sleep with Kimber.

"I am part of your deal, aren't I?"

"Yes, if you're working for me you need to make sacrifices sometimes." His face got a bit closer to hers as her expression changed to confidence.

"Don't underestimate me, Thomas." She spat, turning away from him. He glanced at her from the side for a few seconds before grabbing her arm tightly.

"I know you're more than capable of defending yourself, [Y/N]." He spoke through gritted teeth.

"Good." She nodded. "I hope you know what you're doing. Not for your business but for your conscience." With that she turned on her heels, walking straight towards Kimber who greeted her with a raised hand for her to hold.

PART II

[youvebeenlivingfictional]

Making Arrangements Part Two

Part One | Masterlist

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x Reader

Rating: Explicit - 18+ Only. Any minors interacting will be blocked.

Length: 7.9K

Notes: Hey look it's part two! This is the end of the fic!

No beta, we die like Billy Kimber

Warnings: Arranged marriage; mentions of prostitution; canon-typical attitudes toward sex; slow burn; enemies to allies to lovers; mention of Reader's mother passing away, though it doesn't say how; Reader has a brother and an aunt; no physical descriptions of non-canon characters; possessive Tommy; explicit sexual content - vaginal sex, unsafe sex

Summary: Mrs. Shelby. It had been your truth for nearly six months now, but you heard it so rarely that it hardly seemed to fit you.

“You look impressed.” You noted it to him with pride. Thomas’ gaze swept around the hotel room as he pressed a tip into the bellboy’s hand. The young man dipped a courteous nod before hurrying out, shutting the suite door behind himself.

“You chose well,” Tommy conceded. You shrugged nonchalantly, turning away to hide your proud smile. When Tommy had asked you to make arrangements for your trip, you’d been certain it was a test. It seemed like you’d passed, at least. The interior was opulent, with rich shades of red and tawny across the furnishings.

“There’s a balcony,” You nodded him toward it as you headed for the doors. You opened them, stepping out and peering over the hotel’s small courtyard. You heard Thomas come up behind you, felt his hand rest on your lower back as he set the other on the banister.

“It’ll be nice to be able to get some air without all of the street noise,” You added. Why were you so chatty now? It was hardly the first time you’d been alone with him.

Maybe it was the fact that Tommy had trusted you with this in the first place. Maybe it was how close he’d stuck to you on the car ride down, urging you to sit closer so that he could hear you properly over the rumbling of the road beneath his tires. Maybe it was the fact that, unless something else prevailed, you were going to share a bed with your husband for the first time that evening.

You glanced back toward Tommy and found him eyeing the courtyard below. You cleared your throat, looking over your shoulder and nodding inside.

“Do you like it?”

He turned to you, a small, patient smile on his lips.

“Yes,” He reassured, his thumb sweeping gently over your lower back. “I like it.”

You nodded, relieved, and turned back to the courtroom.

“What time is your meeting?”

“Six o’clock.”

“What time do you want me ready to go?”

“Five thirty should work well enough.”

You reached out, fishing into Tommy’s jacket for his timepiece. You ignored his heavy, curious look as you eyed the face. You had a couple of hours between now and then.

“Alright,” You shrugged, tucking the watch back where it belonged before you turned, heading into the room. It was another moment before Tommy followed you back inside.

“What’ll you wear?” He asked.

“That depends.”

“On?”

“Where we’re going and who we’re meeting.” You crouched by your suitcase, casting Thomas a sidelong glance. “You still haven’t told me.”

He hummed, drifting closer and leaning against the bed frame.

“We're meeting Jay Miller.”

You frowned. That name sounded familiar, but you couldn’t place it. He waited patiently as you wracked your mind. Jay Miller. Jay Miller…

Your mind flashed with a face that you used to know well—a warm smile, a lopsided grin, the flutter of dark lashes as you took him between your lips—

You turned away from Thomas, your face going hot.

“I didn’t know that you knew Jacob,” You said crisply.

“It’s a young acquaintance. Lewis made introductions.”

And you would have to thank your brother for that—perhaps with a smack upside of his head. What the devil was he thinking, introducing your husband to your former beau?

“How fortuitous.” You straightened from your suitcase, looking down at its contents. Jay Miller. Lord above. You hadn’t seen the man in years. Maybe he wouldn’t remember you? Maybe he wouldn’t dare say a thing in front of Tommy. Maybe Tommy didn’t even know—

“That one.”

Your mind quieted as Tommy stepped up beside you, pointing into the suitcase. Your brow furrowed as you followed his direction, crouching down to pluck up a purple beaded dress.

“Why this one?” You asked, turning the fabric over in your hands.

“I’ve never seen you in it.”

“You haven’t seen me in most of the things I’ve packed,” You pointed out. Tommy hummed, pressing tightly up against your back, making your stomach turn somersaults.

“Then this’ll be a good place to start,” He insisted.

“And you still haven’t told me where we’re going.”

“We're having dinner at the Granville Hotel."

You drew in a shaky breath as he stepped away again, reahing into his pocket for his cigarette case as he headed back toward the balcony. You'd wear your purple dress to the Granville Hotel. Fine. You looked down at the dress, smoothing the crepe satin with your fingers. You’d known that you would need to prepare yourself physically, but preparing yourself mentally was now an entirely different matter.

-- 

It was a boon that Jacob seemed as shocked to see you as you had been when Tommy had mentioned his name to you. For as long as it had been, Jacob seemed almost wholly unchanged. He stood from the restaurant table, straightening his jacket as you and Tommy grew closer.

Jacob’s dark hair was neatly coiffed; his warm, dark eyes lingered heavily on you as you approached him on Tommy’s arm. He was taller than Tommy, nearly 6’4, with broad shoulders, and biceps that bulged in such a way that they seemed to challenge the seams of his suit. 

“Mr. Shelby,” Jacob turned his attention to Thomas, shaking his hand warmly.

“Mr. Miller,” They shook hands before Tommy gestured toward you, “I believe you know my wife.”

“I do,” Jacob nodded, “But I’m ashamed to say that I have not had the pleasure for quite some time.” He took hold of your extended hand, and while you’d expected a shake, he bowed over it, brushing a kiss to your knuckles. You fought to hold your expression steady as he leaned back, murmuring, “Mrs. Shelby.”

Mrs. Shelby. It had been your truth for nearly six months now, but you heard it so rarely that it hardly seemed to fit you.

“Mr. Miller,” You answered softly. “It is nice to see you again.”

“And you.”

“Shall we sit?” Tommy asked.

“Please.” Jacob waved his hands to the seat on the other side of the table from him. Tommy pulled your chair out for you, nodding as you murmured your thanks. He leaned down, dropping a kiss to the crown of your head, and you couldn’t help but glance back with a small smile on your lips. You didn’t even care if it was for show. The outward affection that Tommy had given you in the last few weeks felt so nice. It had been so long since you’d felt anything like that, not since—Well. Not since Jacob, at least.

You let your eyes stray to the other side of the table where Jacob seemed to be perusing the wine menu. It was a relief. You weren’t sure what business the two were engaged in, and finding out right off the bat would have been a bit much for you to handle. You knew well enough now that Thomas liked to ease into his business rather than state it outright.

--

Dinner was delicious. Course upon course upon course of perfectly prepared, filling food, chased by sips of the best bottles of wine that the restaurant had to offer you. Jacob and Thomas spent the entire meal exchanging pleasantries, talking around business…Until you reached the wasteland between dessert and the bill.

“...Now,” Jay started, folding his arms on the table. “We ought to come to our reason for meeting.”

“In front of the lady?”

“She can handle it.”

Where there had been a tease in Tommy’s voice, there was a thread of annoyance in Jay’s, insistent and firm. You weren’t sure who you were more grateful for at that moment. Jay knew you in your place in your family’s structure; Tommy was still learning you, in a way. He shifted in his seat a touch beside you, curling his arm around the back of your seat.

“I know she can,” Tommy insisted. “I just wanted to remind you that it’s simply not polite.”

Polite. You were almost certain that that word had never once applied to Tommy Shelby. Jay gave Tommy a tight smile, giving a small nod.

“Well then,” He replied, tone clipped. “Let’s get to it. We have sixteen distribution centers, but we’d only be able to lend five to you and your operations.”

You glanced toward Tommy, trying to gauge his reaction to the news. He nodded slowly, tapping the ash from his cigarette into the tray on the table.

“When we last spoke,” He spoke matter-of-factly, his tone tipped with venom, “You told me that ten centers would be available.”

“Yes, well.” Jay’s gaze flitted toward you lightning-quick, then away again. “That was blue sky thinking on my part. The fact of the matter is, we have five. Take them or leave them.”

“I’ll leave them.”

Your gaze flitted over to Tommy, stunned. He’d leave the option of five, rather than pursue them and find five elsewhere?

“You’re kidding,” Jay scoffed before he nudged you beneath the table with his foot. “Talk some sense into your husband.”

You considered for a moment, taking in Tommy properly. It was stalwart—almost flat—but he quirked a brow. You took in his expression, his countenance…And you knew. Whatever it was, it wouldn’t be enough for him. You shook your head a little, your gaze fixed on Tommy as you agreed:

“It’s ten or nothing, Jay,” You warned.

“Please,” Jay laughed. “You can’t have bought into his shit so quickly.”

Tommy’s expression flickered as he turned to meet Jay’s eye again, his eyes narrowing.

“You doubt my wife’s sense?” Tommy frowned, his voice daring Jay to disagree.

“Thomas,” You warned softly, but it was drowned out by Jay’s, “I’m questioning whether your wife still has a mind of her own.”

Tommy stood so quickly that it made you jolt, stunned at the sudden move. Jay followed suit, the glasses on the table rattling as his thighs hit the table on the way up. You reached out, hurriedly steadying the table as the motions drew the attention of the other diners. You looked up, gaze darting between the two of them.

“You question my wife’s intellect. That is a dangerous path to walk.”

“I knew her long before you, Shelby, and better, if I do say so.”

“Is that right.”

“Thomas,” You hissed, “Don’t.”

Your dread grew as Tommy’s gaze held steadfast and heavily on Jay’s.

“Tommy,” You reached up, catching hold of his hand and squeezing it, “Please. Not here.”

It was another long, harrowing moment before Tommy lowered himself to sit beside you again, his arm curling around the back of your chair. You watched him, your heart pounding as Jay reluctantly lowered himself to sit, casting an apologetic smile toward the maître d.

“So,” Tommy drawled, “If five is all you’ve to offer, we may as well conclude our business now.”

“I suppose we should,” Jay agreed, his gaze drifting toward you. Your eyes dropped to Tommy’s shoulder, holding steadily there, rather than look at Jay.

“I’ll take care of the check,” Jay offered.

“There’s no need,” Tommy insisted, drawing out his money clip and slapping a stack of bills on the table. “It’s on us.”

--

Your entire body was hot as you stormed into your hotel room, already reaching up to remove your earrings as you crossed the threshold.

“Was that necessary?” You spat, glancing back toward him.

“I’m not sure what you mean.”

You bit your inner cheek, holding in a hysterical laugh. That was bullshit. You tossed the earrings onto the vanity, ignoring one that pinged off of the mirror and onto the floor. You reached back, struggling to tug your dress off. You huffed in irritation, simply holding your arms up. It was a moment before Tommy strolled over, drawing the dress off of your body. You turned away from you before he could get a proper look, snatching the dress, your pajamas, and robe before hurrying behind the room divider to change.

You drew off your slip and your stockings hurriedly, listening to Tommy mill around on the other side. You tugged on your pajamas and robe, tying the tie tightly before rounding the divider, your pretty purple dress balled up to shove into your suitcase.

“I did not appreciate that,” You announced primly, crouching beside the case for your toiletries. 

“Appreciate what, precisely?”

“Being used as a bargaining chip.”

You straightened, settling at the vanity and taking up your cold cream to take your makeup off.

“...That’s not why I brought you.”

“Bullshit.” You met his eye in the mirror, uncaring of the fact that you likely looked ridiculous, smearing cream all over your face. “You wanted a position from the higher ground, and bringing me, you got it.”

You sprung up, striding over to the restroom and taking up a washcloth. You twisted on the tap, running it under the water and raising it to clean away the cold cream. You looked into the mirror, swiping away the remaining smudges of kohl beneath your eyes. You drew in a steadying breath, fighting to staunch your irritation. It felt good, but it just wasn’t enough.

You could hear the twisting of a bottle top, chased by the almost melodic sound of whiskey being poured into a glass. You straightened up, pitching the used washcloth into the basin of the sink and winding into the room. You plucked the glass of whiskey out of Tommy’s hands moments before he could take a sip, stomping over to the balcony and yanking the door open. You drew in a deep gulp as you leaned against the balcony, peering into the courtyard. The small winding path around it was lit with small lanterns, swaying in the evening breeze. You heard Tommy’s footsteps approaching after a few moments, but refused to look in his direction.

“What if you’re right?” He asked after a few moments.

“Then I’d say that you’d accomplished your mission.”

“Thank you for following my lead.”

“You should’ve taken the five.”

“Excuse me?”

“Better to have five to start with and look for five,” You argued, glancing up at him. “You could’ve negotiated a lower fee with Jay and an equal fee elsewhere.”

“You think my choice is foolish.”

“I think it’s short-sighted.”

Tommy’s brows rose and fell swiftly.

“You’re certainly entitled to that opinion.”

The telephone rang on the side table just inside the bedroom, and Tommy stepped away with a murmur of, “Excuse me,” As he went back inside. You turned to watch him, leaning against the balcony and watching him. He plucked the phone up, tucking it against his ear and answering, “Yes…Ah, Jay,” His gaze darted to yours. “I didn’t expect to hear from you this evening…Mm…Mhm…I see…”

Your brows rose, stomach roiling with nerves as you listened.

“Yes…Yes, ten centers will still do just fine,” Tommy insisted. You narrowed your eyes slightly. Dickhead.

“Of course… I understand…Thank you…Lovely doing business with you as well.”

You rested your chin on your hand as you heard Tommy lower the receiver back into the cradle. A moment later, he joined you on the balcony. You listened as he drew out a cigarette, tucked it between his lips, and lit a match. You caught the acrid scent of his cigarette just a few moments later.

“...Go on,” You finally sighed.

“‘Scuse me?”

“Gloat. Get it over with.”

“I think I’ll wait.”

--

“Tell me about him.”

Getting into bed with Thomas had been nerve-wracking. You’d been certain that he’d stay up and go out, but as you’d shut the light off and gotten under the covers, he’d joined you. There was a good amount of space between the two of you. You’d been staring at the ceiling, praying that sleep would come quickly, but you’d laid in silence until he’d asked that shocking question.

“What?” You frowned, letting your head loll to the side to look at him.

“Jacob Miller.”

You could feel him watching you in the room’s low light. You rolled onto your side to face him, tucking your hands under your head.

“I’m sure you did your research before doing business with him.”

“I did, but everything that I know is strictly professional. How did you meet him?”

You sighed softly, casting your mind back.

“It was at a party.”

“You brother’s?”

“No, he was still too young then. One of my Aunt Pearl’s friends threw it.”

“How old were you?”

“Seventeen.”

“How old was he?”

“Mm…Twenty I guess.”

“You liked him.”

“Not at first.”

“Why not?”

“He was just…I don’t know,” You shook your head. “He was too showy, flashy. Loud. But, he was already drunk by the time I got there. He’s far more calm when he doesn’t have a few in him.”

“Did you want to marry him?”

You considered for a moment, your thumb sweeping along the band of your wedding ring.

“I used to, I suppose.”

“Why didn’t you?”

“...It didn’t feel right.”

“And our marriage did?”

Did. The word hit you low in the belly. Did? Not does? What made Tommy think that your stance on the marriage had changed already? Was it your irritation at his tactics earlier that evening? You were certainly justified in that upset, and you wouldn’t let him talk you down from that, at least.

“...It’s different,” You insisted. “Jacob and I were simply attracted to one another. No strings. You and I married for the sakes of our families.”

“Do you regret it?”

You were quiet for a moment, taking in Tommy’s features.

“...No,” You shook your head. “We both got what we wanted. Didn’t we?”

Tommy nodded slowly, his foot gently brushing yours beneath the sheets.

“That we did.”

You nodded, relief melting over you.

“Have you ever been in love?” You hedged. It took a moment before Tommy admitted, “Yes.”

“Who was she?”

“There was a girl. Greta. We were young, and…She got very sick.”

“Only her?”

“...Another, named Grace. She worked at the Garrison.”

“Why her?”

“I thought we were cut from the same cloth.”

“...And now?”

Pain flashed across Tommy’s face, but it was gone as quickly as it appeared.

“Now I know better.”

-- 

It was strange to wake up with someone else. You opened your eyes slowly, focusing on the rise-and-fall of your belly with the weight of Tommy’s arm atop it, the heat of his body pressed into your side. You tipped your head to look at him, taking him in properly in the early morning light. You raised your hand, gently smoothing back his sleep-mussed hair.

The night had yielded far more than you’d expected. You hadn’t expected Tommy to tell you about his first love, and you hadn’t expected him to ask about yours. You hoped that it would bring you closer, but with Tommy, you could never tell. Maybe it was leverage…But if it was, why would he have told you about Greta, or Grace? You peered up at the ceiling, noting to yourself that you ought to ask Peggy more about them when you got back to Birmingham.

You glanced toward Tommy as you felt him sigh, nuzzling your shoulder sleepily.

“...Morning,” You murmured. He hummed softly, turning his head from the window.

“I want coffee.” “I’ll order room service.”

You rolled over, reaching for the phone. You sucked in a breath as Tommy’s arms curled around your middle, his body pressing up against your back. You swallowed thickly, reaching out to dial the front desk.

“...Hello?...Two coffees…” You requested, “And, um…” You drew the receiver away. “Do you want anything to eat?”

“Toast for now.”

“And two orders of toast…Room 402…Thank you.” You hung up, settling back down in bed. “It’ll be here in fifteen minutes.”

“Should be ten for what we’re paying to stay here, ” Tommy sighed, brushing his cheek against your shoulder.

“Did you sleep alright?”

“Fine…You?”

“Yes.”

“Good.”

Tommy rolled away, stretching and yawning widely before he sat up. You stayed in bed, trying to remember the warmth of Tommy cuddling so close, certain that you wouldn’t feel it again any time soon. You’d forgotten how nice it was to be held. You watched him for a few moments, taking in the expanse of his pale back before you finally pushed yourself to sit up, lowering your gaze to the sheets as Tommy turned back toward you.

“...You alright?” He asked after a moment. You swallowed thickly, forcing a placid expression as you met his gaze again.

“Of course.”

For a moment, you thought that he may push back for an answer, but he let it go, nodding as he fished into his coat pocket for his cigarettes.

-- 

The news that the Blakes would be visiting Birmingham had reached Pearl first. She had mentioned it to Polly, who had told Tommy while Lewis was in earshot. Lewis had written and sent you a note, and you’d had the facts of it by noon.

By the time Tommy returned for the evening, you were completely occupied with the arrangements. He found you in the kitchen with notebooks and your planner spread out over the table.

“I see you’ve heard,” He commented.

“I have.”

“Is there dinner?”

“There's soup and bread in the oven.”

Tommy grunted, walking more deeply into the kitchen. You hardly registered the feeling of him resting his hands on your shoulders, pressing a kiss to the back of your head.

“...How was work?” You asked after a few moments.

“Fine.” You heard the oven door open, then close again. You tutted as he nudged some of your work aside, setting his plate down before he sat beside you. You could see Tommy rolling his sleeves up out of the corner of your eye, but you simply drew another notebook nearer to yourself, eyeing an itemized grocery list.

“What are you doing?” Tommy asked after a moment.

“Totaling the estimated costs. I want everything to be prepared before they arrive.”

“Mm…Have you eaten?”

You turned the page of your mother's old notebook, brow furrowing. Was it apple cake or apple pie that the Blakes preferred? Or apple strudel? You knew that there was apple involved—

You jolted as the notebook was yanked out from beneath your hands, tossed to the other side of the table, out of reach. You whirled around, eyes wide.

“Tommy!”

He pushed the plate toward you, turning it in your direction so that the stew was closer to you than it was to him. “Eat.”

“And what’s to stop me from just taking up the notebook up again?”

“I am.” Tommy snapped his fingers, pointing at the plate. “Eat.”

You huffed softly, taking up a piece of bread and reluctantly dipping it into the stew.

“...I made this for you,” You grumbled.

“What was it that the minister said when we were married? About the two being as one? Means we share.”

“How technical,” You grumbled through your mouthful. You glanced up as Tommy nudged a glass of wine closer to you. You took the glass up, taking a deep pull before passing it back. Lord above, you hadn’t even realized how hungry you were. It hit you all at once, your stomach grumbling as you swallowed. You didn’t dare look at Tommy, nervous that he’d heard it.

“How long have you been at this?” He asked, waggling a finger toward the mess on the table.

“I don’t know. A while.”

“Mm. An awful lot of uproar for the Blakes.”

You cast him a sidelong glance, brow raised. “The Blakes are one of the oldest families in our acquaintance. I haven’t seen them since I was a child, since—” Since before your mother had passed. You cleared your throat, lowering your gaze to the plate. “Anyway. I was just going over my mother’s old party notes. I don’t want to miss anything.”

“What’s the worst that could happen?”

“Beyond offending them and losing our connections? Gee, Thomas, I can’t think of a thing,” You quipped dryly. He seemed to smile unwittingly.

“Less chatting, more chewing,” He counseled, nudging the bowl closer again.

-- 

“I trust you have everything in hand.”

Pearl’s tone indicated that she did not trust that you did, in fact, have everything in hand. Despite her prickly barb and lack of faith, you’d managed everything quite well. The Blakes would be staying in your guest room, which had been fully kitted out when you’d remodeled the house. You’d ordered in a chef and a sous chef for the next few days, giving you the freedom to deal with the house, and you’d hired on a maid permanently. Ethel was a quick, eager, high-spirited woman, who had practically been your shadow for the last few days.

You cast Pearl a sidelong glance, jaw clenched as she lazily swept her eyes across the neat sitting room. You could just make out the sound of the cook and his sous chef bustling about in the kitchen, Ethel in the living room, setting the table.

“Yes, I have,” You nodded. “And thank you for all of your help this week.”

Pearl snorted at your contemptuous tone, tapping the ashes from her cigarette into a tray on the sideboard.

“You’re the lady of the house. You have to learn how to manage these things for yourself sometime. It may as well be now.”

You sighed, turning to the house and straightening the cushions for what had to be the eightieth time that day.

“Did you see them when they went into the office?” You asked, glancing back toward Polly.

“Mm, briefly. Beulah looked like hell. Poor woman never did have the stomach for the crossing. They booked too late, couldn’t get a cabin close enough to the middle. She must've spent the last five full days chucking her guts up.”

“Pearl,” You scowled, disgusted.

“I”m simply saying, don’t be too offended if she doesn’t eat too much at dinner tonight.”

“Mm. How about the old man?”

“Oh, you know Chester. Strong as an ox. He’ll outlive us all.” Pearl was quiet for a moment before she added, “They brought Hugh.”

The news hit you like a freight train. You groaned loudly, giving your foot one petulant stomp before striding over to the door to the dining room. You drew in a deep breath, steadying yourself before you opened the door.

“Ethel.”

“Ma’am?”

“We’ll be ten for dinner tonight—Unless,” You glared over toward Polly, “You have any more surprises.”

“Not a one. You’re a dear, Ethel,” Pearl gave her a bright smile. You turned your own tight smile toward Ethel, nodding, “Ten.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“It’s better this way,” Pearl insisted as you let the door swing closed. “You were saying that you hated a lopsided table. Hugh evens out numbers.”

“How kind of him,” You grumbled. “How old is he now?”

“Thirty.”

“Married?”

“Divorced.”

“Mm.”

“...Attractive.”

You arched a brow at Pearl’s comment. She watched you for a moment before she lowered her gaze to the smoldering end of her cigarette.

“Is your husband still seeing that woman?” She asked. The mention of Lizzie made your gut pang with bitterness, but you forced your face into an uninterested mask as you shrugged.

“I don’t know,” You admitted.

“Does he bring her around?”

“No, but he may go to her. However he handles that business, he doesn’t—...It isn’t in the house, at least.”

“Have you considered asking him?”

“I don’t care what he does.”

“It’s up to you to know. Especially for the course of this visit.”

You sighed softly. “Thomas will do what’s best for the business. He won’t jeopardize it for a roll in the hay.”

“You’re certain?”

“Trust me, aunt. If there is one thing that he cares for in this world, it’s that.”

-- 

Pearl’s assessments of your visitors had been correct—you could see that the second they walked through the door.

With a full head of greyed hair and a neatly trimmed handlebar mustache, standing at 6’2, Chester Blake had the same larger-than-life air that he’d possessed when you were young. He was a little thicker around the middle than he had been the last time you’d seen him, but the sands of time didn’t exactly flow north. He was aging, but he wore it well. Beulah, on the other hand, looked as if she’d spent the entire crossing on the cargo hold of the ship. Her hair and clothing were neatly styled, but her typically pinked fair skin looked sallow, and her expression was drawn. Her bright grey eyes were dull, and her smile seemed just a little wobbly as she took you in.

“My word,” She managed, “How much you’ve grown.”

“And you haven’t changed at all,” You smiled as you embraced her, “Either of you.”

“A lie, and one that your mother would’ve abhorred, rest her soul,” Chester patted your shoulder, “But I’m happy to hear it myself.”

You smiled, shaking your head.

“I think that my mother would’ve scolded me if I hadn’t said as such.”

Tommy skirted around Beulah, resting a hand on your hip and leaning in, pressing a gentle kiss to the corner of your mouth. You smiled, despite the fact that the show of affection was likely a show for your guests.

“We mustn’t all crowd in the doorway,” You insisted as Tommy helped Beulah out of her coat, passing it off to Ethel, “Can I get anyone a drink?”

“Have you got whiskey?” Chester asked as they followed you into the sitting room.

“Man after my own heart,” Tommy commented, walking over to the sideboard.

“And you, Beulah? Some tea, perhaps?” You suggested softly. She took your hand, giving it a grateful squeeze.

“I’d love nothing more.”

“Ginger?”

“You’re an angel.”

“Ethel,” You turned to your maid as she headed for the kitchen, “A ginger tea for Mrs. Blake, please.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Thank you.”

You guided Beulah to a seat before joining Tommy at the sideboard.

“Would you like one?” He murmured.

“Thank you, no. I think it’d be best if I kept my head for the evening. There’ll be wine with dinner, besides.”

“Mm.”

You glanced toward Beulah where she had closed her eyes, then looked toward Chester, where he was eyeing the tintype photographs of your parents, and of Lewis when he was young.

“...Where are the boys?” You asked after a moment.

“With Polly and Pearl, showing Hugh a good time at the Garrison.”

You groaned quietly in annoyance. That was just what you needed—the lot of them spilling in to dinner, absolutely smashed.

“They’ll be on their best behavior,” Tommy added before you could complain further.

“You’re certain?”

“They gave me their word.”

You pressed your lips into a thin line before you gave a short nod, murmuring, “Alright.” You could feel Tommy eyeing you for a moment before you felt his hand slide across your waist. You raised your eyes to his as he shifted just a little closer, his hip pressing to yours.

“The contract was signed this morning—everything from here on out is just pleasantries. Relax.”

You drew in a deep breath, holding it for a few moments before you sighed, lowering your eyes to collar. You closed your eyes as Tommy leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. You patted his hand softly before he drew away, taking up one of the glasses and turning back to your guests.

“Here you are, Chester.”

You glanced toward Beulah, grimacing as you saw her raise her hand to her mouth, resting it there, as if she wasn’t sure whether she’d be ill or not. You walked over to her, forgoing propriety as you crouched beside her.

“The tea should be ready in a moment. Would you like to go and lie down for a few minutes before dinner?”

She gave you a small, grateful smile.

“I’ll be alright, dear,” She insisted, patting your hand. “But could I ask you to get the tin of mints from my coat? They’re in the left pocket.”

“Of course.”

You straightened, heading for the coat closet. You’d only just retrieved the tin when the front door was flung open. You heard the clamoring of voices just a moment later, and you watched as Polly, Pearl, Lewis, Arthur, John, and an unfamiliar man piled in. You folded your arms across your chest, unable to help the slight, disapproving raise of your brow. Pearl caught sight of you first, and she cackled, pinching your cheek.

“Give up the sourpuss, pet, it’s only us.”

“I can see that, thank you.”

Ethel zipped into the hall, rushing to collect the coats as quickly as they were being shrugged off. You gave Lewis, Arthur, and John a peck on the cheek as they passed you, heading into the sitting room.

“I don’t get one?”

The man’s voice gave you pause, and you turned to get a better look at him.

Hugh Chester Blake had been a menace of a child when you were growing up—stealing your books, dipping the ends of your hair in ink, shoving you down into the dirt as he passed. Your gaze swept him speculatively. He had his mother’s eyes, his father’s thick, dark head of hair. You had remembered a lanky little twit, but he’d grown to be quite tall and quite broad.

“Hello, Hugh,” You greeted.

“That’s not a very warm welcome, is it.” He took a step closer, and you fought the urge to step back, swallowing thickly as he crowded into your space. Christ, where had Polly and Pearl gone? Play nice, just play nice. Pleasantries, you thought. Thomas had done the hard work, you couldn’t undo it by insulting the man—

“About time, Hugh,” You heard.

You could’ve cried with relief as Tommy joined you, curling a territorial arm around your waist.

“Mrs. Blake is looking for those mints, darling,” Tommy added. Darling, that was new—Your mind stalled at the endearment before you squeaked, “Oh, goodness! Excuse me.”

You hurried away from the crowded doorway, just catching on Tommy saying, “You boys took your sweet time.”

You crouched beside Mrs. Blake’s seat again, murmuring your apologies as you passed the tin over.

“It’s quite alright,” She insisted, “I know all about the hosting game—your attention is torn ten different directions.”

You smiled gratefully, giving her hand a squeeze as you straightened, glancing around. Everyone had drinks in hand…And Tommy and Hugh were still in the doorway. You frowned, recognizing the tight, irritated set of Tommy’s jaw. What could they possibly be discussing—?

“Dinner is nearly ready, Mrs. Shelby.” Ethel’s news snapped you out of your contemplation, and you nodded, smiling at her.

“I’ll start herding the cats, then. Thank you, Ethel.”

--

Dinner had gone off without a hitch. Every dish had been prepared perfectly—and the chef had been quick to heat broth for Beulah when she’d been wary of not being able to keep any of the rich meal down. You could feel yourself beginning to truly relax as you watched Pearl and Polly dance with John and Lewis. The sound of the record player, their chatter and laughter began to brighten up the typically drab, quiet calm of the sitting room.

“Room on your card for me?”

Hugh’s question made you clam up again, and your eyes darted to his palm. Pleasantries. You could manage one dance, couldn’t you? You gave him a small smile, resting your hand in his. You knew the moment that you did that it was a mistake. He tugged you far too harshly toward the others, causing you to nearly trip over your own feet. He rested his hand on your lower back, fingers splaying wide, nearly dipping lower than what was appropriate. Your hear ticked up in your chest as you took in the ruddiness in his cheeks.

Hugh was drunk.

You didn’t know how much he’d had at the Garrison, but he’d been pounding the wine back at dinner, nearly drinking an entire bottle alone, and hardly touching his food. Now, he jerkily steered you around the crowded space, his grasp on your hand so tight it was nearly painful. Where was Beulah? Maybe you could excuse yourself to check in on her—

“I’m cutting in.”  

Your eyes darted gratefully to Tommy as he grasped Hugh’s jacket, forcing the man to stop.

“What?” Hugh asked, face reddening in irritation.

“I said,” Tommy stepped closer, “I’m cutting in. I want to dance with my wife, if you don’t mind.”

If you don’t mind. It was tactful, almost genius. It put the ball in Hugh’s court. The polite thing to do would be to acquiesce; if he didn’t, the phrasing and his refusal to let go would seem absolutely ridiculous. You felt Hugh glance between you and Tommy before he reluctantly passed you into Tommy’s hands.

“Thank you for the dance,” You added over your shoulder before Tommy steered you to the other side of the dance floor. You sighed softly, resting your forehead against Tommy’s shoulder. “Your timing was superb.”

Tommy hummed knowingly, swaying you slowly as Arthur switched the record over.

“Are you alright?” He asked, sweeping his thumb over the side of your hand.

“I am now,” You murmured, lifting your head to look at Tommy. He nodded, gaze sweeping your face. His nose brushed gently against yours, his eyes flitting to your lips, and lingering. You swiped your tongue along your lower lip, stomach fluttering as Tommy pressed his lips to yours. You felt the swaying slow, then stop as Tommy’s arm curled around your waist, drawing you into his chest. You gently lifted your hand from his shoulder, resting on his nape. You had barely kissed him on your wedding day. This was sweet in a way that you’d never known from Tommy—a way that you wanted to become more familiar with.

The hoots and whoops from Lewis, Arthur, and John snapped you from the tender embrace, and you turned your head from Tommy, embarrassedly pressing your face into his neck.

“Alright, pipe down,” Tommy grumbled. When you managed to draw yourself from your nervous hiding place, you found Polly and Pearl sharing a smile.

--

“…What are you doing in here?”

The question flew out of your mouth, coated in your surprise, and you could see the swell of Tommy’s amusement as he closed your bedroom door behind himself.

“Hugh is in my room,” He informed you. Oh—Lord above. You nodded a little. Of course. How hadn’t you thought of that?

“I see,” You muttered. Tommy hummed, pushing off from the door and walking deeper inside. You watched him take in the furnishings, his gaze sweeping the armchair and bookshelf, the small reading table, the nightstand…And the bed. You raised your hand, scrubbing at the back of your neck.

It was going to be alright, you told yourself. You’d slept with Tommy—you’d been asleep with Tommy—before, just a few weeks ago. That had been a comfortable enough experience, so…So this would be more than alright. You were certain of it.

“I’ll just,” You gestured toward the divider in the corner of the room, “I’ll go change.” You skirted around it before Tommy could argue, or offer to be the one to change behind it. You plucked up your pajamas and stepped behind the divider, scrubbing your hands over your heated face once you were out of his line of vision. How did this man still make you so nervous?

“...It was a lovely evening.” Tommy’s insistence floated over the divider to you, prompting you to snap into action.

“Yes, it was,” You answered, words slightly muffled as you drew your dress up and over your head. You hung it over the silk folding screen, reaching for the fastenings on your brassiere and corset. “I’ll have to give the cook an excellent recommendation. Dinner was superb.”

“Yes.”

You drew off your thigh-highs, hanging them on the screen by your dress. You pulled on your nightdress, smoothing your hands over the cool, sky-blue fabric before putting on the matching robe.

“…May I come out?” You asked, damning your nerves.

“Of course.”

You stepped around the screen, surprised to find Tommy in bed already. He had the manuscript that had been on your bedside table in hand.

“You’re making progress,” He commented, flipping through a few pages, skimming a few of your corrections and notes.

“I was. Things got a little…Held up with the Blake’s visit,” You admitted. You’d hardly touched the manuscript in the last couple of weeks. You walked over to the basin, trying to ignore the feeling of Tommy’s gaze following you.

“…Is that new?” He asked.

“Hm?” You looked at them, finding his gaze lingering on your exposed legs. The interest in his gaze warmed you, and you hurriedly looked away again as his eyes swept upward. “Oh, the—This? No.”

“Had it long?”

“A few months.” It was another outfit that you’d gotten for your honeymoon months ago—one that Tommy would never had had a reason to see before.

“Will you be reading before bed?” Tommy asked.

“I think not. It’s been a long day.”

The stress was beginning to drain from your system, making you feel the full weight of your fatigue. You were almost certain that you’d fall asleep the second your head hit the pillow. You washed your face quickly, listening to Tommy turn the pages of the manuscript every few moments. When you finished, you dried your hands and turned back to the bed.

“Would you like to leave that light on?” You asked, nodding toward the lamp on the bedside table as you shrugged your robe off, hanging it up on the bed post.

“I can do without it, unless you’d like it on.”

“No! I’m alright,” You chirped as you climbed into bed, tugging the covers up. Tommy set the manuscript aside, shutting the light off before he settled down in bed beside you. You could feel his legs brush against yours as you the two of you laid on your sides facing one another.

“…Hugh’s a live one, isn’t he,” Tommy commented.

“He hasn’t been told no much before.”

“That became quite clear.”

You shivered at the thread of steel in Tommy’s tone. You reached out, tracing a finger gently along the back of his hand.

“Thank you again,” You added, “For stepping in when you did.”

“I told you,” Tommy turned his hand over beneath yours. “If I ever find out another man touched you, I’ll give you his hands.”

You huffed a soft laugh through your nose.

“May put a bit of a damper on your contract with his father.”

“Though they’d make an excellent trophy above the mantle.”

“That’s vile,” You giggled, smile widening as Tommy’s hand wrapped around yours. You were quiet for a few moments, reveling in the heat of his palm against yours. “…I don’t suppose I’m afforded the same opportunity?” You added.

“What do you mean?”

“Whose hands would I get to take as a trophy?”

Tommy met the statement with silence, and it made you want to sink into the bed. You’d been joking—

“There’s been no one,” He finally said. The admission made your heart stutter in your chest.

“Excuse me?”

“There’s been no one,” He repeated.

“But…Lizzie—”

“Not for months.”

Months. When had it stopped? And—

“Why?” You asked, shaking your head in disbelief. Tommy raised your hand to his lips, pressing a kiss to the back of it. He pressed another to your forearm, then shifted closer, lips brushing against your shoulder. He turned his head, and your eyes fluttered closed as he pressed a kiss to your cheek.

“Tommy—” You breathed, but you were unable to get another word out as his lips covered yours. You sighed against his lips, raising your other hand to smooth over the close crop of his undercut. He let go of your hand just long enough to grasp your nightdress, using his hold on the fabric to draw you closer, then steer himself up over you. You let your thighs splay as he slotted between them, pressing his bare chest against you, hips flush and grinding against yours. His kisses trailed lower, hands grasping covetously at the fabric covering your chest. He gave the lace a yank, and you hissed softly as you heard it rip.

“Tommy—Oh,” Your mouth fell open as he drew one of your nipples into his mouth, teasing it with his tongue, “Damnit—I liked this nightdress.”

Tommy lifted his head, lips brushing your chin. “I’ll get you others,” He grumbled against you, “I’ll buy you a hundred more tomorrow.” His hand slipped between your legs, and you gasped as his fingers brushed against your pussy. You tipped your hips up into his touch pleadingly, lowering your chin and finding his lips with yours.

“I want you bare,” He murmured against your lips.

“Are you going to fuck me?”

“No.”

The answer made you go still, embarrassment and nerves flipping your stomach. Tommy took your face in his hands, holding your gaze steadily with his.

“I’m going to make love to my wife.”

--

His palm pressed heavily over your mouth, muffling your moans as his cock stretched your needy core. You pressed your head back into the pillows, curling your arms around his shoulders, and your legs around the backs of his.

“Sssh,” He murmured, the push of the hush brushing against your ear. “We don’t want the Blakes hearing, do we?”

You managed to shake your head a little, blinking up at Tommy as you panted broadly against his palm. Your cunt throbbed around his cock as he fully sheathed himself in you. You reached up, tugging Tommy’s hand away and catching his lips in a kiss. His fingers intertwined with yours, raising your joined hands to rest on the pillow beside you. He rolled his hips gently, then again as you whimpered, swirling his tongue with yours. Tommy fucked you with slow, even strokes, trading slow kisses as you moaned and panted into one another’s mouths.

Tommy broke your kiss, pressing his face into your neck as his thrusts became harder. You gasped, sinking your nails into his shoulders as you let your eyes slide closed. The bed was beginning to creak with his movements, the slapping of your hips slightly muffled beneath the sheets. You felt the familiar curling sensation beneath your waist, and you slid a hand down, grasping Tommy’s behind and using the grip to urge him on. He drew back just enough to get a good look at you, his eyes bright in the dim room. You sucked in a stunned breath as he reached between your legs, fingers teasing your clit as his hips pounded yours more roughly.

Your eyes widened as the headboard whacked against the wall behind you.

“Tommy,” You chastised, “Hugh will hear—”

“Let him,” Tommy spat, “Let him hear how I take care of my wife.”

You bit your lip to quiet your moans, grasping his wrist and stilling it as his touch tipped you over the edge. Your hips bounded up against his, chased by the harsh slamming of his hips, and the heat of him spilling into you. The scrape and squeak of the bed quieted as Tommy braced himself over you, looking down at your sweat-sheened body. He leaned down, brushing his lips over your breasts, then up, over your neck. You closed your eyes, curling your arm around his shoulder and resting your hand on the nape of his neck. You could feel the rise and fall of his chest, the pounding of his heart against yours. You turned your head, nuzzling his hair and pressing a kiss to his head.

“…Think that dresser has enough room for my things, too?” He mumbled. You grinned, tightening your grip on him as his hand tenderly smoothed along your thigh.

“It certainly does.”

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[hiatuswhore]

Spring • 1/4

Organized crime had not been the life Thomas envisioned and yet it was the life to greet him. Some assumed the killing, lying, and stealing were the hardest of transitions. What troubled the Shelby boys most was the hierarchy. There was always someone higher in the crime food chain. The Peaky Blinders—no Thomas wanted what only one man had. Carlisle. Very few had met him in person. Known for his eyes and ears everywhere, Thomas was known for being two steps ahead while Carlisle was known for being twelve. If a man jumped Carlisle was prepared for his takeoff, flight, and landing.

“Have you gone mad? You can fuck with the men such as Lee’s and Kimber but Carlisle is not to be messed with. He’s ended bloodlines for less,” In all of Polly’s years she had never heard anything so foolish. Her gaze so deeply fixated on her nephew she wished to read straight through him.

“We are not moving against Carlisle,” Thomas clarified but his aunt only scoffed. She snatched the glass of whiskey from his hands throwing it back like water. The cringe on her features spoke volumes.

“And yet you’re ready to jump into bed with him. You boys know little of the whispers of Carlisle. Most places they don’t even say his name aloud in fear he’ll show,” None of this stirred the piercing blue eyed Shelby. His demeanor remained at ease despite the risks he wanted to run.

“We get in good with Carlisle it could mean everything for the Peaky Blinders. Most importantly our family,” Arthur chimed in but hesitance stained his features. No matter how formidable of men for the very first time there was someone truly worth fearing.

“Or the end of us all. Do tell how you intend to get the attention of Mr. Carlisle. There’s rarely good attention and we cannot have bad intentions with Carlisle,” Silence followed within the betting shop. Thomas reached into his coat pocket revealing a newspaper.

“A colored girl on the front. How progressive of London,” Polly murmured, taking the article in her hand she studied the picture. Beneath it read (Y/n) (L/n). You wore a big smile on your face with a tight glittery dress. Thomas returned the article back to his pocket.

“This club is the only place openly owned by Carlisle. In the whispers I found he frequents there,” The suggestion only added to the uneasiness within the room. Thomas watched each of his family members carefully. Polly smoked her cigarette as though her life depended on it. John chewed on his tooth pick his eyes downturned while Arthur stared off silently. Ada bounced Karl in her lap caring little for the meeting. Her presence only there by the behest of her Aunt.

“I think whatever it is you are thinking of doing. Don’t do it. You’ll be the end of all of us,” Thomas expected nothing besides venom from Ada. At times he wondered if his younger sister was correct. Will I be the end of the Shelby’s? Ada continued only acknowledging that Thomas was going to do as he pleased any how.

Thomas was the first to leave the family meeting. Out into the warm rain, the sunshine deceiving on first glance. He walked toward the Garrison with a strange calm. Unaware of the next sequence of events that would unfold. His pack of smokes bumped the article making a small sound at the wrinkle of the paper. Inhaling deeply the burn in his throat stung lightly. He pulled the article back out, his eyes landed immediately on your photo. Hair pulled back small coils of baby hairs lined the side of your face adding a youthfulness to your features. Said features are what Thomas perceived as foreign and yet it intrigued him. Folding it back into his pocket he flicked the cigarettes between his fingers to the mud.

Inside the bar just down the road Tommy ordered a drink. His brothers joined him not long after and the three bantered like always. Those moments silently cherished by Thomas more than he cared to admit.

The Shelby brothers stepped into the club in full swing. Low lighting brought a soft hum to the entire room. The bar decorated with candles created an almost sensual theme.

“Name?” The bouncer asked in a way no man aware of the brothers would dare. Arthur scoffed but Thomas grabbed his brother.

“Tell Carlisle the Shelby’s are here. The heads of the Peaky Blinders,” The bouncer frowned but all eyes landed on you.

“Is there a problem Lance?” The article burned in his pocket at the sight of you. You took them by surprise with your American accent. Lance repeated Thomas and they watched as your smile widened.

“Follow me boys,” Without waiting you walked in the opposite direction. Music loud and bodies everywhere you worked your way through the crowd. Multiple people saying hello and grabbing your attention through the mix. Not turning to make sure they were still there you walked down the a dark hall.

The fourth door down you opened it and looked to the Shelby brothers. Grinning as you gestured for them to enter first. Each of them eyed you before stepping in. Thomas’s stare never broke though, his eyes on the slit of your dress. Your holster just faintly noticeable.

“Now what does Carlisle owe for the pleasure of the Peaky Blinders?” Amusement clear as Arthur narrowed his eyes at you. The confidence leaving you in a way they had never seen in any woman. Not even Polly held this calm in the face of danger. Thomas noted your posh-like behavior.

“We’d like to propose a deal to Carlisle. Do you speak for him?” He asked, grabbing glasses you placed four on the table. You looked up with a light grin saying, “Whiskey?”

John was the only one to accept this made your grin widened as you downed your glass. Thomas and Arthur silently scolded John as he shrugged.

“Cowardice,” Pointing at Arthur and Thomas you watched as both their eyebrows pulled together. Your index finger moved to John who appeared as a deer in headlights. “You will speak for the Peaky Blinders.”

“I asked you a question?” Thomas spat, pouring another shot of whiskey you quick swallowed it down. Eyes locked on Thomas you leaned forward, “I’m sorry—I couldn’t quite hear you?”

“Uh John,” Your eyes were still on Thomas, watching as he fumed silently. A pause occurred in the small black painted room.

“Now John why would Carlisle need some Peaky boys?” Watching John squirm under your gaze sent your ego into overload. He pitched the Peaky Blinders on Carlisle’s payroll, reason being more eyes and ears.

“What makes you think Carlisle doesn’t already have eyes and ears in your territory?” The thought never dawned over any of the three. Thomas snatched his glass of whiskey downing the drink in seconds. He wet his lips fighting the urge to bounce his leg beneath the table.

“I’ll call your bluff. What does your boss know about anything in Small Heath eh?” Thomas pressed pouring your third shot you also added to Thomas’s. The burn in your throat finally made you cringe.

“Carlisle knows all about the fixed races. Kimber, Lee drama, and the dance with Inspector Campbell. And your recently blown up bar. Shall I continue?” Speaking so carelessly you enjoyed the silence that followed. You now sat on the edge of the table, long legs dangling off the side. Thomas on the other hand froze in place, your boss had tabs on them. “Ease up. Carlisle knew you would show up soon enough. Family is important to Carlisle. He admires your business and family dynamic. Come here tomorrow at noon. We’ll see if you are fit to be in business with Carlisle.”

“Who is Carlisle to you?” Thomas’s question went unanswered as you walked out. The three went over to the bar, Thomas watched as you moved about the club. You danced and drank without care.

The irony of the night being only one hotel offered a vacancy, The Carlisle. Inside the lobby was grand and as they gave their name at the desk a room was already prepared for them.

“I don’t know Tommy. If we’re going to do this we cannot try anything with this man. Too much money, power, and ears,” Arthur pointed out on the side. They remained careful of the receptionists observant eyes.

“I think this could be really good for us,” Thomas muttered but Arthur feared of his youngest brothers hubris and ambition. Despite the reasonable fear he still trusted him.

The next morning arrived seemingly faster than the night ended. Thomas getting little sleep fueled his irritability levels. The low lights still on the area felt odd without the several numbers of people. Armed men stood in different corners of the club.

“Carlisle has assigned a task for you,” Almost as if you had not been drinking as you carried a cheeriness to you.

“Where exactly is the man of the hour eh?” Thomas questioned but you placed yourself up on the bar. Your feminine suit-like outfit appearing rather peculiar. All black suit with a red bow tie, that same red matching your lip stick and heels.

“The Martello family has been skimming funds. Their Estate is rather lovely. Carlisle will be occupying them with lunch in two hours time. During that time you’re going to have this delivered to their door. Give them these bullets with the daughters names on them. I’ve personally always admired the Lee family’s flare for dramatics,” The picture was a clear family portrait. Anthony Martello’s wife and two daughters had bars over their eyes.

“This could cause a war between the Martello’s and the Lee’s,” Thomas pointed out, adjusting the strap on your heels you rolled your eyes.

“Both constant thorns in Carlisle’s side. The Lee’s have proven to be your adversaries in the past. You think some cute little marriage will stop them from inevitably toppling you. Carlisle has grown tired of the two greedy families,” Serving yourself some water you crossed one leg over the other. Your gaze shifted from Thomas to John. He bounced on his heels nervously while Arthur looked to Thomas. “Tell me. Are you boys sure you want to jump in this bed?”

The provocative nature to your tone bordering sexy and frustrating. Under your gaze Thomas was sure he could not hide. You leaned back on your elbows revealing the small tattoo on your ankle. From what Thomas could see it was an coyote. You leaned forward elbows on your knees, pants hiding away the ink.

“Once the task is complete are we finally going to strike a deal with Carlisle?” Chuckling at the urgency in meeting the man.

“This is your audition. If you pass that you meet Carlisle. Don’t be fooled the meeting is only the interview to see if you qualify to be on payroll. When your done with Martello’s estate report back here,” Jumping off the bar the only sound was your heels clicking against the floor. The Shelby’s walked to the car in an place of shock.

“Are we doing this?” John queried. Thomas only nodded in silence. His mind still wrapped up with the coyote tattoo. You sparked a fire in him, one he had not felt since meeting his first love. Grace. For the first time the name was nearly forgotten.

He shook the thoughts from immediate memory. The three carried out their assigned task with ease. Anthony Martello would return home to Thomas’s most feared threat. A threat against his family. Back at the club bouncer Lance showed them to a private room. A bottle of bourbon and glasses the only thing within the room besides seats. After twenty minutes the door opened, back in a dress you were not alone. In followed a man who looked much like you. A group of unfamiliar men, and several of the regular armed guards.

“Alright welcome! Welcome!” Thomas frowned as the sight of what practically appeared your male twin. “My name is Carlisle (L/n) you lot have requested my presence. In hopes to be on my payroll. Peaky Blinders say hello to your competition, The Baxerton Gang.”

“What in the bloody hell is this. Your pretty little bird said nothing about this,” Sipping your bourbon quietly you chuckled to yourself. You watched the Peaky Blinders silently watch as the Baxerton gang pitched a fit.

“I’m sick of the bloody games. You’re not only going to add the Baxerton gang to your payroll but as your main security. This is no place for women one of my own could be your representative,” Nathaniel—no David, you could not recall the name of the head of Baxerton. While your blood boiled from the disrespectful demands Carlisle only chuckled.

“You see that’s where I must stop you. I have a different approach. Us men we start wars and lose lives meaninglessly. The women. Dare I say they’re smarter. While we think two steps ahead they’ve thought out a lifetime,” The head of Baxerton once again interrupted. Their haughtiness creating a dangerous tension. “Are you reaching a point Mr. Carlisle.”

This time Carlisle turned toward you, chewing the inside of your cheek you eyed the Baxerton leader. Rising to your feet you pulled your hair from it restraints, allowing the coils to hang free.

The leader of Baxerton stood in front of you, smiling as he wore a big grin on his lips, “Are you a part of the deal beauty?”

“Something like that,” Kneeing him you watched as he hunched over. Your men readied their guns as his partners reached for their own. Before the pig could rise your gun was pressed to the back of his head. You raised your white heel near his face.

“I guess it’s time to introduce myself. I’m (Y/n) Carlisle. You and a few others know the truth, only a handful but to the world my brother is Carlisle. Now first things first you want off the floor? Lick my heel,” Gun still aimed your eyes locked with Thomas’s, a fire danced in your eyes. “You have two options lick my shoe or I decorate these floors and my shoes with you.”

As his tongue connected with the bottom you signaled your most trusted guards to grab him. Thomas did not break his gaze on you, even when you walk back over to your seat. Reaching into his pocket he retrieved a cigarette, ignoring his brothers uneasy gazes.

“You reveal the truth behind the hierarchy here but claim the Baxerton gang is our competition. Is it safe to assume you intend to end the gang you choose to not work with,” Smiling wildly they all watched as you and your brother locked eyes. The nonverbal conversation was indecipherable.

“Give our Baxerton guests a prolonged exit. Call the office tell them plan Beta is being executed and remind them Beta is for Baxerton not Shelby,” Your men moved in unison, the uniformity nearly admirable. Even though the three screamed and pleaded for their families you awaited until the door closed to continue.

“I’m only going to make me self clear once. Remember I am everywhere. You even have the slightest inkling of betraying me and that’s your life. Not just yours alone,” Placing photos on the table you watched as the expressions shifted. Ada carrying Karl was the first, she clearly appeared unaware of the photo. Next Polly with Finn and photos of Esme and Johns children followed. Johns leg tapped at a slow pace his eyes on his beloved kids. “Sins of th—Now John I would advise you to put down the gun but that’s boring.”

“Leave me bloody kids alone!” Rising to his feet you remained in your seat. Thomas searched your eyes for a glimmer of fear but once more he found amusement. Arthur begged John to lower the gun, beckoning Tommy to help him.

“Come on pull the trigger John. Shoot me and then shoot me brother. Me men know the procedure for the assassination of Carlisle. Let’s go through a play by play shall we? First they are going to beat you lot to an inch of your life. Followed by a trip of rounding up all of the Shelby’s. The children will be renamed and rerouted to new families. The adults? They’ll be hung and set ablaze of course. Come on Johnny. You’re my favorite Shelby thus far. Brave and Passionate. Such a doomed combination,” His hand shook but his finger no longer touched the trigger. Thomas could see your brothers hand clenching, he lacked your brazenness. Without a word John holstered his pistol. Tommy and Arthur rose to their feet and you followed suit. “Do I make myself clear Shelby’s?”

“Crystal,” Thomas accepted your hand taking note of your manicured nails. He said nothing as you took his cigarette from his lips taking your own puff of the tobacco. You stared up into his eyes with a playful glint, “Good. We’re going to have so much fun together.”

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