#imagine ada pressing her chest onto me

[saphirdevil]

my first art of them but ill post them now, idk man everyday im just like idk,,,, man

[pink-strawberry-kissess]

I will continue to be delusional and blur the lines between my head cannons and the actual source material of these characters until Capcom decides to release Separate Ways.

Anyhow. I'm here for that wholesome aeon [redacted].

• After finishing, it's not uncommon for a lot of men to be a little stand-offish and distant. I like to imagine that Leon is the complete opposite.

• In the afterglow of a shared night together, he just stares at Ada and imagines his whole life with her.

• Ada has to be the one to snap him back into reality, nothing excessive, just a curt reminder that she'll have to leave again.

• But sometimes she likes to flirt with the idea of a life spent together, if only to tease him.

• Because the man just gets, like, ⋆˚☆˖°starstruck⋆˚☆˖°

• like despite the horrors he's been put through, he still has the tendency to be a little naïve, especially when he's fully relaxed and vulnerable, and those traditional/gullible ideals he used to hold back when he was a rookie cop bubble back up to the surface. White picket fences, a happy family, a wife, 2 kids,

• (or more depending on how good the night they shared together was.)

• It becomes such a common occurrence that it's almost a joke between them now. After things in bed settle, Ada will just catch him staring into her, and she'll just ask "how many kids is it this time?" Sighed in playful annoyance.

• Sometimes Leon knows these thoughts unrealistic, and the two will joke around about it.

• Other times, he's completely serious, and it can spark a bit of tension between them. For better or worse.

Feed me your soft yet sinful afterglow head cannons, I am S T A R V I N G.

HELLO MY LOVE

YES HE'S SO CUDDLY AFTERWARDS AND STUPID IN LOVE, he's wanted her for years you're telling me that he wouldn't immediately be like HAVE MY BABIES???

I NEED MORE FICS WITH ADA SLEEPING AND LEON WATCHING OVER HER. WITH HIM JUST STARING AT HER LIKE SHE'S HIS WHOLE WORLD.

ada my baby you deserve the world- and you deserve it with leon :< my baby

i think ultimately leon would've always wanted a family- but away from everything. away from his job, away from the government. and with the way that they've been treating him like an object, like a weapon makes SENSE to me if he has some sort of arc where he realizes his worth and that he's more than just a weapon to the american government. let him retire, let him have ada, let him have a family. he's been used and used by the government. he's barely a person with any semblance of desire (except ada) LET HIM HAVE HIS LIFE BACK (AND ADA)

ANYWAYS YES

at least 2 kids

sometimes if it's more kids ada's just like, so are they one after another? cause i aint having kids at 45 lol

I LOVE THE BANTER BETWEEN THEM- just the idea of it and fantasizing about it

i think when ada is being extremely pessimistic, she'll want to bolt. realize that she still has a lot of issues within herself and feels bad that she can't give leon everything he wants

but he's willing to take all she can give and that's the issue

she doesn't realize that he only wants what she's willing to give-

she wants to give him the world but she doesn't realize that she's already the world to him

okay wholesome stuff aside

yes a lot of random little tears from her whenever leon's too affectionate- he's very into aftercare and it starts to affect ada and how she takes care of him too.

if he's particularly overstimulated and his body is just racked with shakes and shudders, she just holds onto him and runs her fingers through his hair over and over again, her hand on his back and drawing nonsensical shapes so that he can come back down to reality.

whenever ada's had too much, he just curls her up onto his chest, pressing kisses along her hairline and breathing in the scent of her soft shampoo

he waits until she's finally settled down and her breathing normalized

he checks in on her A LOT while they're doing the devil's tango but also afterwards, so much so that ada starts to expect it finally and isn't so bashful at his affection

"you really make a girl feel loved," she teases

"you are loved,"

im going to fling myself off a cliff

gonna get nasty but the idea of them already having a kid and then wanting another makes me insane

i love the idea of aeon twins but i also like the idea of them having two kids one after the other and the idea of leon just kinda wanting to fuck another baby into her makes me insane

moreso if ada is like "i wanna make you a daddy again"

if they're actively trying (also can we stop talking about this irl to irl people you know- it'sf ucking gross and weird to be like SO ARE YOU HAVING UNPROTECTED SEX A LOT?)

anyways lol

he'd wanna start tracking her cycle and making sure that they are doing it at the most opportune time

also im insane but ada being very flexible is always at the forefront of my mind

if they've had a good [redacted] he's just hold her and tease her a bit, wanting to shift her hips so that it "really works this time"

"it was an accident last time, i don't think we need the extra help,"

"doesn't hurt to make sure it works. then again we can always go for round two"

"are you that desperate to put another baby in me?"

"yes maam"

KJBSDFKJBFSKJF

i add more later

[peakyblindersxx]

May I request a john smut in which, despite being the cocky beast that he usually is, he manages to get all gentle and intense when, after years of mutual pining, he finally makes love to ada's best friend who's younger and totally inexperienced. Idk I just need this to be fucking intense, like John suffocating his desire for ages and now finally indulging in his worst temptation and showing her what lust is... please i'll burn in hellll

a/n: first of all let me say: this killed me. like, it’s literally all i can think about. god help me. but thank you so fucking much for requesting this bc i liked it sooo much that i decided to make a mini series out of it with the help of my babe @stxdyblr-2k who was sweet enough to offer to ghostwrite on the series 🥰 and to all my other angels who requested fics, don’t worry i will get them done! just wanna give you guys the best quality work i can. my 1st priority are some tommy requests i got, as well as some michael ones after :)

love, abi xxx

whiskey business - john shelby x reader (1 of ?)

warnings: nsfw! eventual smut, slow burn, john being sexy as all hell but also soft

John couldn’t tear his eyes off of you. From the moment you walked into the Garrison, arm loosely linked with Ada’s, clad in a black lace dress that hugged you just right, he couldn’t stop staring. Even Tommy and Arthur had noticed, cracking some joke about him being pussy whipped. The words floated right over his head, his mind on one thing only. The last time he had seen you, you were barely eighteen, cheeks pink as you waved goodbye out the train window to Ada as she sobbed. Ada had always had a flair for the dramatic, but the two of you had practically been attached at the hip your entire lives. So, he consoled her, reminding her that university wasn’t forever, that you would be back soon enough. And back, you were, red-stained lips sipping at a glass of something that Ada had practically shoved in your face. You weren’t a girl anymore, black heels crossed at the ankle as you sat across the room in a booth, laughing as Ada waved her arms, telling some sort of story.

“Just fuckin’ talk to ‘er, John-boy,” Arthur’s voice cut through John’s train of thought like a sharp knife, and he focused his eyes on his two brothers sitting at the booth across from him, clouds of smoke from Tommy’s incessant smoking heavy in the air around them.

“Fuck off,” John returned as he stood, earning a chuckle from Tommy.

“That’s right,” Arthur shouted as John made his way towards the bar, rolling his eyes at his older brothers. “Make sure you show her a real good time, eh?” Arthur’s voice was soon drowned out by the crowd around John, as they parted to let him walk through. He didn’t even see them, his eyes trained on your smile. Fuck, you were pretty.

***

“So, then I fucking kicked him in the balls.” Ada’s eyes sparkled triumphantly as she recalled the time she’d incited a riot, managing to cause great injury to a certain part of a policeman’s body. She did so casually, like it was no big deal. You couldn’t control your laughter as Ada grinned, pleased that she’d been able to make you laugh. “Fuckin’ missed you, Y/N,” she professed, shooting the rest of her gin and gesturing at the bartender to “leave the fuckin’ bottle, already.”

“Missed you too,” you smiled back at her, happy to be back in Birmingham in the company of an old friend. London was beautiful, but lonely. There was something inside you that missed the dirty streets, the crowded pubs bursting with familiar faces.

“Had to come over here myself to make sure it was you,” A deep voice interrupted your reverie and you looked up to see none other than Ada’s older brother John, looking even handsomer than the last time you’d seen him, in a grey-three piece suit, a cigar hanging from his lips. You’d had the hugest crush on him growing up, and the butterflies swimming around in your stomach seemed to confirm that you still found the tallest Shelby brother irresistible.

“Hi, John,” You offered him a shy smile and scooched over as he slid into the booth next to you, leaning in to press a chaste kiss to your cheek. You couldn’t help but drink in the smell of his cologne, the various drinks that Ada had encouraged you to down making you press yourself closer to him.

“M’kay, if you’re going to fuck, at least wait until I’m gone.” Ada’s voice snapped you out of it and you looked away, a pink blush staining your cheeks.

“Says the one who managed to fuck three of my best mates before you left school,” John retorted, causing Ada to roll her eyes, shooting her whiskey and pouring the three of you another glass each.

“I feel like getting drunk, and I’m not doing it alone,” Ada announced, causing both you and John to crack a smile at her forcefulness.

“Good thing we took a cab here,” you returned, before shooting your whiskey. If you were going to have to stare at John all night, you thought, you might as well be drunk doing it. Wasn’t like he was going to be staring back.

***

Ada was shitfaced, dancing in the middle of the pub. Luckily, Isaiah had stepped in as her partner, making sure her stumbling didn’t cause her to trip and fall. Unluckily for you, this left a tipsy you and John alone tucked into a booth in the corner of the room, out of view. The conversation was friendly, and you were trying your best to keep your mind off the way you could see John’s forearms practically bulging out of his suit. It wasn’t fair, you thought to yourself, for him to walk around looking like that. Especially when you knew that he was probably fucking the latest movie star, or something. It was almost impossible for you to keep your head straight, yet you managed to keep it civil. However, you couldn’t help your gaze from drifting to his lips. God, they were so pink and looked so soft, it was unfair. You couldn’t stop yourself from imagining how they’d feel on your mouth, let alone other parts of your body. Jesus, you were fucked.

A third of a bottle of whiskey later, you couldn’t help but let yourself slide closer to him, heart beating fast in your chest as you sat tucked into his side, his arm around you as you laughed at a joke he’d made, something about the stick up Tommy’s ass. Your eyes shone as they met his blue ones, his arm sliding down until his fingers were brushing against your waist, radiating heat into your skin.

“Y’know, I’d tell you how fuckin’ pretty you look tonight, but I think you already know that,” John rumbled into your ear, lips just barely brushing against your neck. Your breath hitched, and he noticed, a small grin spreading across his lips.

“You’re something else, you know that?” You shot back, a small smile threatening to take over your lips.

“M’not just sayin’ that. Couldn’t take my eyes off ‘ya, since you walked in.” John wasn’t kidding. For a second you didn’t know how to reply, staring up at him with a slight look of disbelief. The whiskey, however, had other plans, and had decided to respond for you.

“Can't keep your hands off me now." You smirked, waiting for him to escalate the moment, anticipation and liquor silencing the blaring alarm in your mind. God, you shouldn't want him as badly as you do.

"Can you blame me?" He muttered, dragging his fingers across the lace of your dress, tracing the pattern's loops absentmindedly, watching your jaw tense and lips part to take a gasping breath, your jacket having long vanished into the chaos of the pub. Your arms wound themselves around his neck, fingers twisting into his short hair. "Fucking come 'ere lass."

His strong arms lifted you onto his knee, gripping a thigh to help you balance, the friction of his rough hand against the stiff fabric pushing your dress up slightly. The need for more and the desire to know him completely intoxicated you far more than anything from a bottle; you'd never felt as though you were on fire from your drunk hookups. His fingers found the zip of your dress, tugging it down desperately, gripping the flesh of your exposed shoulder blades. A small groan erupted from your lips as you felt him chuckle below you, pressing a thumb to your lips to quieten you.

"John," you whined, pouting playfully against his thumb.

"I'll sort you out, I swear," He muttered, slipping his thumb between your lips. Instinctively, you sucked, locking eyes with him, his hand straying from your back to roughly grab your jaw, holding your gaze. "But if you're going to scream your 'ead off, we'll get caught."

"You wish you could make me scream, John-lad."

"Come off it, I could ruin you, Y/N." He stated, lifting your jaw, as though memorising the construction of your face, tone brimming with a cocky confidence only John could make attractive. "You want that?"

"More than anything." The words tumbled out of your mouth thoughtlessly, watching how his jaw tightened in response as you attempted to read his expression. He studied you for what must've only been a few seconds, but the moment passed so slowly, you could barely remember what it felt like to not be examined by his dominating blue eyed stare.

His grip guided your face to his, fingers tilting your chin so John's lips could brush against yours, before pulling you into a heated almost aggressive kiss, the straps of your dress barely grazing your shoulders, the hem of your dress bunching around your waist as he reached down your back to grab your bum in a firm squeeze. Your mouth gaped open in a gasp of pleasure, John taking the moment to run his tongue against your lips, gaining access and deepening the kiss. You were so caught up in the thrill of John's seduction that you hadn't noticed his hand suddenly pull away after moving your skimpy underwear to one side. You had instinctively ground your hips against him, he'd broken the kiss to let out a string of curses, complimenting you through his quickening breaths (“Fuckin’ wet for me already, aye?”), gripping your thigh. But as soon as he had pulled the thin silk from your thighs, the atmosphere shifted, his lip curling in frustration as his hands left your skin as though your flesh was suddenly scalding.

"John?" You prompted, resting a hand on his shoulder, noticing the dark shadows under his eyes for the first time.

"It's getting late."

"What?" Your voice sounded high and whiny, you mentally scolded yourself for sounding so needy. It was embarrassing to be rejected by the man you've admired for many years, but even worse to be openly vulnerable and so pathetic in front of your best friend's brother.

Ada.

Oh fuck.

Realisation hit you, it was either that or the unholy quantity of alcohol you'd downed which turned your stomach. You had gone too far this time. It was one thing to flirt with John and desire him from a distance, it was an absolute betrayal to have sex with him, knowing Ada's insecurity about being used to get close to her gangster brothers- sex, power and politics. You had sworn during those tearful walks around the canal that you'd never hurt her. You couldn't do that to her.

Your sudden panic must've been obvious, you tried to stand up from John's lap, stumbling slightly, only regaining balance due to a sudden arm across your back, anchoring you upright.

"No one has to know. It's our secret yeah?" He muttered into your ear, his words comforting.

You nodded silently, the reality of the situation settling in. Your hands are shaking by your sides, John catches them, locking his fingers with yours.

"It's fine, now. Nothing happened yeah?" He stood up in front of you, his muscular physique looming before you, the creases across his torso reminding you that just a few minutes ago his body was under yours, he was breathless, needing your skin against his, desperate and vulnerable. "I'll zip you up. Turn around."

His hands dropped from yours to fumble clumsily with your zip, struggling in the gloom and fog of intoxication, he eventually succeeded, the lace clinging to the curve of your hips, waist, back and chest again. You wished it was him instead that was skimming your figure but you pushed the thought away with a simple, "Thanks."

"I'll walk you home yeah?" He offered, as he straightens your skirt and his tie, allowing you to fix his crumpled shirt collar and the row of shining buttons below his throat which you'd ripped open as he whispered dirty nonsense in your ear, smirking at how you arched your back and swore back at him through your moans.

"Isaiah already said he would, it'd be better for us both that way. You know how people around here talk." You replied, glancing at the mirror on the wall of the booth to quickly smooth your tousled hair. Despite only recently returning to Small Heath, you'd already encountered the rife gossiping and quickly realised your neighbour was incapable of minding his own business. "Nobody has to know, right?"

John nodded, disappointed but appreciating your rationale and quick thinking despite your state, "Right."

"Good night, John," You said politely, ignoring the tension in his tone and the sudden soft sadness of his eyes, turning your back and walking to the door. Back to the sticky dance floor, back to Ada, Isaiah, Finn, Tokyo, back to spilling drinks, ashing cigarettes, back to noise, safety and far from the man who made your morals vanish with the same lines he uses on probably every single one of his conquests. Fuck it. You were going to enjoy it, you sped up your pace in your heels, trying to ignore your shaking legs. You tried to ignore the guilty twang in your gut when Ada screamed your name across the pub and stumbled over, dragging some lad on her arm, pressing drunken kisses to your forehead and cheeks.

You couldn't help but look back to see his shadow sloping away into the darkness of the booths closer to the dance floor, being bullied mercilessly by his brothers you assumed. You watched him fake a smirk, take the knuckles to his brow from Arthur, snap an insult back to Thomas and settle into his rightful seat. You only shifted your gaze to Ada for a moment but when you looked back up, he was staring at you, jaw tense, icy stare burning into yours, arms folded on the table, the gold chains of his sleeve garters barely glinting in the dim light. He looked away but you could see his cheeks were flushed with blood even in the glow of the oil lamps.

Pretending nothing happened was going to be impossible.

***

to be continued!

[toms-cherry-trees]

Point Proven || Tommy Shelby

Summary: One last obstacle to wade through to free his heart

Word Count: 870

Warnings: None

Author’s note: So, I typed this scene a year or so ago, after I wrote The Highest Price. I always imagined how would that interaction go between Tommy and Grace if he had someone else to love, but never really developed it (the drabble was 150 words long) but I wanted to put it out in the world for you for the fun of it and to try and get my creativity back flowing. Its entirely written from Tommy’s POV. Hope you enjoy!

This fic exist in this universe

Let me know if you wanna be in my taglist

Tommy stared intently at the blonde through the smoke of his cigarette. The last fifteen minutes had been wasted in polite small talk and tense silences. The first glasses were emptied but no one made a move to fill them up. The flames in the chimney danced in her eyes, just like they did when he had her for the first time. Her oval face framed by delicate golden curls, the face he once dreamt of seeing every day and night, now made his eyes hurt. He could barely recognize in this fine lady the woman who wiped tables at the Garrison and lived in a shabby one room flat infested with rats. The woman whom he once considered making his wife.

“I was going to tell you that I hadn’t gone a single day without thinking about you” Tommy took a long drag from his cigarette, letting the expectation build up in the air “But the thing is, that would be a lie. I thought about you at first. Every single day” He finally reached out for the whiskey bottle to refill their glasses “But then someone else came in. A nice girl; ridiculously good, and sweet, and kind. And for some reason she decided to pick up what you left of me, sew me back together, and now that nice lady has the keys to my home and my ring on her finger”

Even looking away, Grace couldn’t mask her surprise. The whiskey glass stopped mid-air in her hand. Her lips trembled, as if they struggled to hold back whatever she wanted to say. The way her gaze darted around the room, trying desperately to find an anchor to hold onto for support. But there was no easy way to digest this. All the way from across the ocean, all the lies to mask up this moment, only to be slapped in the face with something like this.

“Then why, Tommy?” She sounded hurt, and for a moment pity filled Tommy’s chest. But it didn’t last long “Why ask me to come, light a fire upstairs, make me lie to my husband? Why did you want me here tonight?”

“To prove myself a point” He spoke as if he had been rehearsing that line in his mind for weeks and had just been waiting for the right time. He had been anticipating the moment to spill out his truth “To prove myself that I could sit right in front of you, with the house for ourselves, no witnesses, no guilt, and still feel nothing. Because that’s what I feel now Grace, sitting face to face with you. Nothing” The weight of his statement lingered in the air as he lit another cigarette, finding in the brief pause the right thing to say next “I moved on. And you should do the same” In another life, Tommy would have seized the chance, and gloated about his newfound power and money, anything to prove himself better for her. But now all he wanted was for the evening to end and for himself to be back home with his beloved, feeling her back pressed against his chest in their bed.

Grace seemed to have other plans in mind, however. She stood to refill her glass yet again, but instead of sitting across from Tommy once more, she occupied the spot next to him in the loveseat by the fire. Her slender fingers intertwined with his free hand, bringing it into her lap “Just one more night Tommy. One more for the old times, and I promise to get out of your way”

Tommy evaded her gaze, keeping himself occupied in the dancing flames of the hearth and the chipped corners of the mantlepiece that Ada had yet to get fixed. How long had he dreamt after her departure to have her back, to be what she needed and wanted? But a lot of water had run under the bridge since then. She was different, and so was he. A small part of him wanted to agree, just one last moment of weakness for the sake of closure. A payment for his immeasurable suffering.

Grace seemed to pick the wavering in his eyes and mistook it for acceptance. She immediately leaned closer; a hand pressed to his chest as she pressed a feverish kiss to his mouth. Thomas’ body immediately went rigid, the feeling of her warm lips on his own too much to handle, his judgement clouded by the scent of her perfume and the musk from her hair. For a moment his determination faltered, his body reacting and responding to her touch. But whatever sense of honour and loyalty left in him overpowered the weakness of his flesh. He didn’t pull back for himself. He did it for the one waiting for him at home. The one who didn’t try to change him. The one who nearly died for him.

His fingers firmly gripped her chin, but instead of pulling her closer, gently pushed her away. In the space between their parted lips, eyes closed, and foreheads pressed together, he decided to once and for all cut the final tie he had with the Irish spy.

“Away it goes, Grace”

[oddaodd]

· A Dress Made Out Of Daffodils ·

Summary: A tipsy reader feels guilty for not being ready to sleep with Tommy after flirting with him and taking him to her house but he is understanding and loving about it.

Warnings: Mentions of alcohol and smut, nothing too graphic though.

·

Dancing freely with the aid of a couple (or more) drinks on a Friday night is the perfect way to end the week if you asked Y/n. Every weekend she could be seen dancing at The Garrison or even at her own home if she wasn’t feeling like being surrounded by people.

Thomas knew Y/n as Ada’s clumsy optimistic friend who sometimes helped around in the shop and joined his family for dinner. There wasn’t a person more different from him if you asked him. But still he felt himself drawn by her, his entire family did for that matter.

Every time she visited she brought flowers, so the Shelby household was never short on flowers. Sometimes Arthur and John would tease Tommy about how his eyes never seemed to leave Y/n when he was around.

It wasn’t any different during The Garrison’s reopening. Once jolly boisterous and tipsy Y/n, dressed in a beautiful yellow dress caught his attention, his eyes couldn't leave her. His stare must have been intense for at some point her eyes met his, an instant smile etched on her painted lips. Finishing her drink and leaving it on the bar she made his way to him

“You should be dancing Tommy” she said stretching her hand with confidence that she wouldn’t have had if it wasn’t for the whisky.

He took her hand but stayed where he stood “I’m fine here”

“Oh come on, its your grand reopening after all” she smiled, tugging slightly at his hand.

With a playful roll of the eyes, Tommy succumbed to her and soon they were both dancing in the middle of the room amongst the mass of happy customers. Tommy had never danced with her before but as she danced that night with him he was convinced he could dance with her forever.

A few drinks later Y/n found herself alone with him outside The Garrison with the excuse of needing a cigarette, but before she allowed herself to think about it too much she pressed her lips against Tommy’s. A familiar feeling of desire clouding her senses when he kissed her back. Next thing she knew she was fumbling with her keys before opening her door and allowing Tommy inside.

He pushed her onto her bed and climbed on top of her, his hands roaming her body as his mouth trailed kisses from her neck to her lips.

However, as Tommy’s breath tickled her exposed cleavage, Y/n began to panic. There she was in her room with the man she had always fantasized about and yet she couldn’t shake off the nerves that began climbing her body. Nobody had kissed her the way Tommy was kissing her, no man had ever even been inside her room. She wanted to feel it all, but she could still feel the warm cloak of booze that was numbing her from feeling things entirely.

“Wait” she breathed, feeling her heart pounding violently at the base of her throat. He’d be upset for sure, she knew. After flirting with him all night and accepting his invitation to come inside anyone would call her a tease, and not the good kind, she thought sourly.

“Are you alright?” He asked startled by her tone scanning her face, which was ridden with a mixture of embarrassment and guilt. Sitting next to her, he allowed her to sit up.

“Yeah” she said avoiding his eyes “I’m just too tipsy for this” Bullshit, she was too nervous. Now after having tasted his lips and felt his touch she knew she would never forgive herself if when wanting to revisit this very moment she was impeded by a blurry recollection.

“Sorry” she sighed when she was met by silence that she thought meant annoyance but was actually contemplation. The alcohol still pumping though her body infused with many ´what ifs´ that sent her down a rabbi thole of dreadful assumptions. Tears began prickling her eyes at the situation she had put herself in.

“It’s alright Y/n” he said a bit taken aback by what was going on, he tilted her head with his thumb so he could look at her eyes.

An alarm was set off when he saw how glossy they were. “Did I hurt you?”

“No” she said shaking her head softly “No, its just … I’m not used to this” she mumbled gesturing between the two of them “ I don’t usually go home with men and you are so.. so I really like you and I don’t want to do this and then regret it because I am tipsy and can’t remember”

A newfound warm feeling flooded tommy’s senses and suddenly he felt he could read Y/n like an open book.

“its really alright, Y/n. We can just sit and drink and talk”

“I think it’d be unwise for me to keep drinking” she contemplated dreading the idea of another drink.

“It doesn’t have to be alcohol, love” he suggested softly “do you have tea?”

“I do” she smiled. Feeling her nerves softening “but I don’t feel like making it”

“I can make some”

“Can you just hold me?” She asked and regretted it immediately thinking it was something odd to ask a person you weren’t that close with, but she didn’t have time to criticize her own request because Tommy’s arms were already pulling her closer to him.

Lying on her chest and listening to his heartbeat, Y/n felt at ease and finally allowed herself to calm down.

“This is exactly what I imagined your home to be like” Tommy mused, his fingers tracing soft circles on her back against the fabric of her yellow dress.

“Do you spend a lot of time thinking about my home?” She asked cheekily.

Tommy chuckled “It suits you, is what I meant”

The next morning Y/n woke up in her bed still in her dress, but no Tommy next to her. Making her way downstairs to get a glass of water she thought of what had happened and how very surreal it all seemed.

When she walked into the kitchen she found a daffodil resting on her table atop of a note in Tommy’s handwriting.

“You should wear that yellow dress more often”

·

@captivatedbycillianmurphy @peakyxtommy @nyotamalfoy @writeroutoftime @babylooneytoonz

[yourfavouriteblinders]

Deal with the Devil

Tommy Shelby x demon! reader

warning: mentioned death, alcohol, cigarettes, swearing and demons.

Word count: 1133

Thomas Shelby knew he was going to die in those trenches. He knew that he would suffocate to death beneath the ground. He could feel the darkness surrounding him, and what little visibility of the tunnel had remained in his vision, fizzled to black.

When his eyes opened up again, he could sense something in the darkness, in the far corner of what seemed like a room. There, a creature stood in all its unearthly glory. It was tall and slim with feathered black wings that nearly glinted in the darkness. Bright amber hawk-like eyes were the only source of light in the room. They glowed heavily in the dark and were looking at Thomas as if they were sizing him up.

He was scared if anyone could tell. Fear had overcome his body and was gripping onto him with a vice-like grip. Digging his claws into the dark-haired Shelby and feeding off of it. Thomas was sure that he was dead and this was his punishment. His mind thought about Greta, his mother and her beautiful smile, his brothers, especially little Finn and Ada. Thomas was ready for death, he had nothing to live for, not anymore anyway.

The creature walked over to him, slow precise steps and unwavering eyes. Now that Thomas's eyes had adjusted to the darkness, he could the creature better, it was a woman. A very tall and snake-looking one at that. She observed him, looking at him with such precision she spoke, "Mr. Shelby, no need to be scared of me. I'm here to help you." Thomas had never heard such an alluring voice before. She stood close to him now, her body leaning over him. There was only one thought in his head and that was, "What the fuck are you!?"

The woman laughed, "You summoned me, love. Or have you forgotten that?" Thomas was even more confused, had he called her or was it just his imagination? As if she could read his mind, she frowned. "I'm not a figment of your imagination." Thomas looked at her for a long while then spoke, "Well if you are real, then why are you here?" (Y/N) laughed, she laughed until she had tears in her eyes.

Her gleaming amber eyes gazed over him once more before she spoke up "I've come to offer you a deal, Mr. Shelby. You sign a contract with me and I'll be whatever you want me to be." Her voice turned serious and she stood up straighter. Her deal was tempting, she could be whatever he needed her to be. Thomas Shelby was going to strike a deal with the devil.

"What happens if I do make that deal will you eh?" (Y/N) grinned, her small fangs on display for anyone to see. "Are you willing to strike a deal, Mr. Shelby?" Her voice sounded excited and her eyes sparkled like a kid in a candy shop. Thomas looked her over once and mulled over his decision.

Thomas spoke without thinking this time "What's in it for you huh?" He questioned the demon as his steel-blue eyes bore into (Y/N)'s amber ones. "What's in it for me you ask ey? I get the thrill of waiting for your life to end, the thrill of being a part of this dangerous life you've created. For me, I'm in it for the delicious soul I get as a treat after the deal is over." She grinned, her lips curling up into a wide smile as she looked at him. "Well then, Mr. Shelby, are you still willing to make a deal."

Thomas looked over at her, she sat in front of him now, still smiling. If he was honest, it was getting kind of creepy that she was smiling so much. (Y/N) looked at him in anticipation and Thomas stared back a little uncomfortable. the staring competition between the two went on for some time until Thomas broke the silence. "I have made a decision. I'll sign the deal, with some terms of my own." Thomas's voice was gruff when he spoke, most likely from the amount of alcohol he consumed. (Y/N) became giddy, her amber eyes seemed a bit brighter than before and she leaned forward a bit when Thomas mentioned adding his own terms to the deal. "Your own terms huh? Well, then Mr. Shelby, what are your terms?" Her voice was light and Thomas could practically taste the giddiness that was radiating off of her.

"You stay loyal to me and only me, save from trouble, help me build my kingdom and lastly do not betray me." Thomas's voice was gruff when he spoke to her. He looked her straight into her amber eyes and saw that she was listening intently. She laughed, a full-blown laugh fell from her lips and eyes that glinted mischievously. "Oh, Mr. Shelby! I agree with these terms but the ones you stated were already a part of the deal!" Her lips curled up into a malicious grin "You're a greedy thing aren't ya? Always wanting more than he could have." (Y/N)'s words sent chills down his spine.

She looked at him like a wolf looking at its prey. For the first time in a long while, Thomas Micheal Shelby was the prey rather than the hunter. "Well, now that you have spoken and made up your mind, let's seal the deal, shall we?" After (Y/N) spoke she grabbed Thomas's hand and he flinched her cold and slightly wet skin. She used her long fingernail to cut into his plan then into her own.

Their hands joined together and (Y/N) chanted something in Latin before pressing her lips to Thomas's forehead and her hand to his chest. "Sleep now Thomas, we'll meet when you wake again." Her words slowly lulled him to sleep even though he tried to fight the darkness that was slowly overtaking his sight.

When he woke up again, Thomas was in a camp, a medical tent at that. "Oh, Mr.Shelby! I'm so glad that you opened your eyes again. We weren't sure if you'd make it!" a beautiful ginger-headed nurse spoke while checking over his bandaids. "You were very lucky to be found by a nurse (Y/N), she brought you back and tended to your wounds. She took good care of you." The ginger, Marie, spoke happily.

There was noise towards the entrance of the tent that drew Thomas's attention towards it. When he looked up, he saw those familiar amber eyes, but there was something different about them this time. They glowed eerily against her skin and looked inhuman. "Good to see you awake Mr.Shelby." She grinned that grin, the one that looked innocent but wasn't.

[devilscreekballad]

Commission for BirbWaifu

With @birbwaifu ‘s permission, here’s the writing commission done for them <3

Thanks again for commissioning me.

If you wanna commission a story as well, check out the pinned post.

Enjoy

"Ya think they know?"

It wasn't an easy-to-answer question Nobu was posing there, but he felt a heavy weight lifting off his shoulders as the words finally left his mouth.

Charlie put his book down and pulled himself up into a marginally more upright position as they laid cuddled together in their train compartment's bed, reading.

"How d'ya mean?" he wondered, blinking down at the man resting against his chest.

Nobu drew a breath to answer, but paused. He knew the way he worded that question could mean a couple of things, and all of them had been weighing him down.

"About... all of it, I guess," he thus answered, looking briefly up at Charlie before listening to the other man's heartbeat again. "About me, 'bout you, us... this whole misadventure."

"I wouldn't call it misadventure, Nobu," Charlie said softly, playing lazily with the other's short hair. "I mean, look at what we achieved. But as for that... I don't think me family knows 'bout it. Nothing ya really put in the papers, right? An' what might make it into the papers... There's not really much o' a connection to us, is there?"

Nobu nodded.

"An' they already know 'bout ya," Charlie continued, gently caressing the other's cheek. "No one uttered a bad word 'bout ya since the wedding, so no need to worry there." Charlie shuffled and pressed a kiss onto the crown of Nobu's head. "And trust me, if anyone would have a problem with ya, Ada would rip'em a new one."

Nobu chuckled softly, and sighed.

"But what about us being together?" he wondered.

"Same deal," Charlie shrugged, giving Nobu's arm a squeeze. "But we'll find out for certain soon enough."

Something about Charlie's tone wasn't right. Nobu shifted a little to look at his lover once again.

"Yer alright?"

Charlie blinked once more, nodding.

"Am. Just still tryin' to wrap my head around everythin'. This was a bit bigger than anything we did before."

"It sure was."

And Charlie sighed.

"Wanna hear the punchline? The bit I find hardest to grasp is that ya actually love me back, and confessed first. All these years, we rode together and..."

Now Nobu sat up and smiled, bemused.

"We're both two oblivious fools, ain't we?" he said, now resting his head against Charlie's shoulder.

"Oblivious and both in bloody denial, Nobu," Charlie answered, taking the smaller man's hand. "But I'm glad you said something. I'm not certain I woulda had the courage to do so."

Now Nobu blinked.

"Ya really think so?"

Charlie nodded, smiling bitterly.

"With all that happened, I guess if you would not have said anything there and then... I woulda started tellin' meself that ya don't have the same feelings for me. 'Cause when all that crap didn't encourage ya to say anything..."

"It wouldn't have encouraged ya either by the sound of it," Nobu deadpanned, looking a little grumpy. "And yer the more courageous of the two of us."

Charlie awkwardly cleared his throat.

"Well... I..." he began, but Nobu gave his hand a gentle squeeze.

"But I get ya. I... I think I woulda jumped to the same conclusion 'bout ya had I not said anything."

Charlie smiled and put the book away, turning to Nobu to gently kiss his forehead.

"We're a match made in... God knows where..." he chuckled, cuddling into the pillow.

Nobu did the same.

"Ya think we'll ever see the others again?" he wondered as Charlie turned off the small lamp. "I mean, they said they'll stay in contact, but..."

"I'm quite certain 'bout Mrs. Meadows. Can't imagine Blayne won't keep his eye on us, and she'll be the best way to do so. With O'Brian, Burke an' their brethren, I'd say it depends on what the world has in store for'em. Miss Florence will certainly write." Charlie hummed in thought. "I think the only real tricky one will be Lynwood, what with him moving to England. He'll either write eagerly or will get wrapped up in work again."

Nobu nodded gently. This sounded about right.

"Those were some weird weeks," he said.

Charlie sighed in agreement.

"That they were. But one can't argue we didn't end our career as outlaws on a high note."

"As if you'd actually give up on gamblin' and hustlin'."

Charlie laid his arm around Nobu, pulling him closer.

"I'll cut it down for ya, an' ya know that," he said, giving Nobu a loving squeeze. "But now we should sleep. I'd like to be awake properly when we meet me family."

"Yeah, not riskin' givin' them any advantage."

Both men chuckled, and Nobu leaned up to kiss Charlie's cheek.

"I love you."

"I love you too." Charlie returned the kiss. "Good night."

"Good night."

~~o~~

The next morning came, and Nobu woke to the conductor knocking on the compartment door, announcing that they'll reach their destination in less than an hour.

Nobu sat up, yawned, and looked down at Charlie, watching the other man's chest rise and fall gently. And after a moment, Nobu playfully ran a hand over Charlie's stomach. Charlie stirred awake, blinking blearily at his lover.

"G'morning," he slurred, squirming a bit. "Ya really took a liking to tickling me awake, didn't ya?"

Nobu sighed and searched Charlie's eye.

"I..." he began. "I guess I'm tryin' to tell meself this ain't a dream."

Charlie smiled and reached up to caress Nobu's cheek.

"I get that. I think I told ya that I'm still wrappin' me head around all of it." Charlie cocked his head. "But I get the impression yer really worried 'bout things."

"Am," Nobu admitted. "We got a new life ahead o' us, and..."

"Yer scared, no matter how much ya wanted it?"

Nobu nodded, and Charlie pulled him into a gentle hug.

"Look, Nobu, I can't promise ya that life will be outrageously easier now. But it should be a less rocky road. An' we've weathered so many storms together already, I think we can weather the next few as well."

Nobu nuzzled his face into the crook of Charlie's neck, humming gently. It took a moment before he sat back up, looking down at Charlie.

"Yer counting tellin' yer family we're together as one of'em storms?" he asked, all perfect innocence. And Charlie snorted a laugh.

"Oh, that depends on how obnoxious they'll be about it," Charlie answered, stretched and clambered out of bed. "But I ain't tellin' ya nothin' new when I say ou'll fit right in with the bunch o' altruistic hens that me family is."

Now Nobu laughed as well, watching Charlie get dressed.

"Ya warned me before," he joked then, getting up himself.

It wasn't until everything was packed and the train slowed as it neared the station that Charlie fell thoughtful again.

"Penny for yer thoughts?" Nobu asked.

Charlie looked at him, and then at the window, watching the scenery go by.

"Told ya, still lettin' things sink in. Right now it's mostly the fact that I haven't seen me family in person since Grace's wedding."

Nobu nodded.

"We sure got a lot to tell'em..."

Charlie smirked.

"I reckon those tales will be a good warm up till we get to the big reveal."

"Ya mean that we saved the world or that we got together?"

Charlie pretended to earnestly ponder this.

"Yes," he then said with a cackle, and earned a gentle elbow to the side for it. But Nobu chuckled as well.

"We should go then," Nobu said as the train stopped, shouldering his bag. "I'm certain I saw Ada and Oscar waitin' for us."

~~o~~

Now, Charlie was never the kind of person to get overwhelmed too easily. But arriving at one's family's home and being greeted by around a dozen-something friendly faces will very easily do the trick.

Charlie had barely gotten off the carriage when he was swarmed by various nephews and nieces, and while Oscar carried their luggage inside, Ada took the opportunity to have a small heart-to-heart with Nobu a bit away from the group.

"Whatever ya did after Potter's Springs musta been a big one to get Charlie to come home for good after all this time," she said, watching Charlie for a bit.

Nobu smiled askew.

"Don't be like that. Ya know how much he'd have loved to be here more often. An' yer one to talk. Yer always out an' about yerself." Then Nobu realized something and his eyes grew wide. "Wait, how do ya know about..."

"Potter's Springs? Josie wrote to me when that Pinkerton agent of yers got ya stuck in town for a bit." Ada smiled slyly. "Can't believe ya an' Charles worked with a bloody Pinkerton."

Nobu sighed.

"Neither could we."

"Did ya leave him to rot in the end?"

Nobu furrowed his brow.

"No. Truth be told, he... he's not that bad a person. And he quit his job."

Ada chuckled.

"Good call." She patted Nobu's back. "Come, ya gotta meet the other new members o' the family."

Nobu nodded and followed her, only to stop dead in his tracks when he realized something else.

"W-why did ya word it like that?"

With a smirk, Ada waved him to follow.

"I'll tell ya when Charlie's in hearin' range. Would spoil all the fun otherwise."

By all means, Nobu couldn't say that that sounded promising, but there was nothing else he could do but follow.

About ten or fifteen minutes later Nobu and Charlie had been introduced to all the new members of the family, and another ten till they were seated on a large and nicely decorated breakfast table.

Something that made Charlie squirm with a bit of embarrassment.

"Ya did this all for us?" he asked, to which his mother ruffled his hair after putting a basket of boiled eggs down.

"Ya been away from home for so long, Charlie, and ya pulled quite a stunt in New Hamelin." As you and Charlie blinked a little confused, Charlie's mother smiled and retrieved a newspaper from the shelf, handing it over. "We do get the papers out here, Charles. An' yer not goin' to tell me this kinda thing isn't right up yer alley."

Charlie cleared his throat quite abashed, putting the paper back down.

"Well, yes..." he began.

"Glad to see ya ended on a high note," Ada noted. "One last big thing before you an' Nobu settled down. So, what are yer plans now?"

Charlie quirked a brow.

"Get a job, I guess."

"As what?" Ada teased. "With yer skillset ya'd be best suited for politics, but ya got too good a heart for that."

Charlie snorted a curt laugh and leaned back.

"Yer kind as always, Ada. I was thinking 'journalism'. Maybe writing. Good respectable work, that."

Something about this made a smile tug on Nobu's lips.

There was some agreeing murmuring, some nodding and some eyerolling around the table, before Ada looked at Nobu.

"An' you?"

Nobu winced, taking a deep breath.

"I dunno yet. I-I mean I'm no good with words an' all, but... maybe I can find something at a bookstore in the city. A library. Ya know I like to read."

"Well, good to know Charlie will have someone to read what he put out," Ada quipped, grabbing the breadbasket and helping herself to a small tower of rolls. "But that aside, why don't ya tell us the whole story."

"Yes," Grace chimed in. "What happened that made ya finally decide to settle down with Nobu."

"Well, it's quite a long..." Charlie began, but then narrowed his eye at his sister. "Why did ya word it like that?"

Grace giggled in response, while Ada did her best to not start laughing out loud. Charlie cast Nobu a suspicious glance, and Nobu, albeit just for a moment, wished the ground would open and swallow him whole.

"I think they know," Nobu mumbled, and Charlie frowned.

"We suspected," Ada corrected. "Since Grace's wedding, the way the two o' yer been with each other..."

"Why didn't ya say anything?" Charlie protested, to which Grace spoke up.

"Charlie, that kinda thing is something the two of ya had to come to terms with for yerself," she said. "But to tell the truth, if ya wouldn't have gotten together by now Ada woulda set out to screw yer heads back on right."

Charlie and Nobu turned their gazes to Ada, who smiled back self-satisfied.

"Look at ya two," she said. "Ya've been workin' together so well since ya met, and one would have to be really oblivious to not notice that." He smile softened. "But I know yer both... yer both the kind of people who deny themselves that anything good can ever happen to them for a longer time. But..."

Charlie waved her off, taking a deep breath.

"We... already figured we're oblivious fools, no need to rub it in," he said, clearing his throat.

"That you are," Ada agreed, and smiled. "But we're all happy ya finally figured it out."

Charlie smiled at Nobu, and Nobu smiled back, nudging Charlie's leg below the table.

"But now let's eat," Ada called, "before it all gets cold."

"Can't argue with that," Charlie muttered, getting Nobu to chuckle.

~~o~~

"Charlie?" Nobu asked as they sat on a bank in the house's small garden, catching their breath after breakfast.

"Mhnn?"

"I've been thinking."

"About?"

"What do ya think?" Nobu smiled, resting his head against Charlie's shoulder. "About what yer family said. About us. We been so busy with wrappin' our heads 'round what happened in Devil's Creek, an' us being two godforsaken fools that we didn't even think about just what we're goin' to do now."

Charlie smiled, leaned his head against Nobu's and laid an arm around the other man.

"We still had a good answer to it, don't ya think?"

Nobu pondered this.

"Yes, but... I mean I can imagine ya writin' books, but I-I can't see myself sellin' any... or anything."

Charlie pressed a gentle, careful kiss to Nobu's temple.

"I'm sure ya can," he said, squeezing Nobu's shoulder. "An' we got time now. We're not on the run anymore."

"There's still people who have a bone or two to pick with us."

Charlie nodded with a sigh.

"I know. But we can handle them. Settling down doesn't mean lettin' one's guard down, now does it."

Nobu nodded.

"Are ya scared," Charlie asked softly.

"A bit. Not just about that... about everythin'."

"Me too, that much I can tell ya." Charlie looked forlornly at the sky for a moment, caressing Nobu's shoulder absentmindedly. "It's weird, innit?"

"Mhnn?"

"All the things we've been through an' this is what we're scared 'bout the most."

"Well," Nobu began, pondering. "I guess it's 'cause we've never been in such a situation before. It was always 'us and where we go from here for the next hustle'. Now it's... Us and where we'll go from here for us."

Charlie chuckles gently.

"Yeah, it is." Then he shuffled around, looking at Nobu. "Well, where do we go from here?"

Nobu blinked.

"Didn't we just talk 'bout that?" he wondered.

"I mean literally," Charlie said, leaning back again and looking up at the sky wistfully. "The world is big, Nobu. There's a lot of places to go an' see, an' about as much to stay there for a bit longer than we usually do. So, where do we go from here? See the world? Build a small house somewhere on the frontier? Go back to civilization?"

Charlie's gaze was gentle and free of any sarcasm as he looked back at Nobu. And Nobu just smiled, just as gentle and honest, before he cuddled against Charlie again, laying the other man's arm around his shoulder once more.

"I don't know yet. I guess I'll see," he said, entwining his fingers with Charlie's.

Charlie chuckled softly, giving Nobu's hand a soft squeeze.

"Yes... But... it's funny. I know one thing for certain." He smiled and cupped Nobu's chin, pressing a tender, loving kiss onto the other's lips. "I won't go anywhere without you by my side."

[enamoured-x]

Exceptional

Sonny Carisi x Reader 

Summary: After a few harsh words thrown at Sonny, you decide to make him feel better. 

Warnings: NSFW, 18+, oral (male receiving) 

Word count: 3.5k

a/n: It feels good to be writing for Sonny again! I got inspired for this right after the most recent episode, Sonny did not deserve to be talked to like that so here’s a little relief for him. Enjoy! 

*Not my gif

Stress didn’t even begin to cover what you had been feeling lately with your most recent case, so you couldn’t imagine just how heavy it was all coming down on Sonny. After your team decided to take on the infamous Judge Gallagher for rape allegations from his past at Harvard, you had all been running around talking to vics and trying to get Sonny a solid case. But from where you were standing, you had the easy job, Sonny was the one who was taking the harder hit. 

You and Sonny had been dating for a little more than a year which you two deemed it was time for the next step. Moving in together. It was a big change but one you and Sonny found was most definitely the right move. You got to see each other every night and go to bed in his arms, there was no way around how good it felt to finally share a home with him. Which is why you knew just how much pressure he was under with this case. It killed you to see him in such distress, chugging copious amounts of coffee to stay up late to string together his case. You offered to help in any way you could, whether it be something as little as making him lunch or getting him coffee. You were always there to offer your support, always standing in Sonny’s corner, which is why when you finally had a sit down with Gallagher and his attorney, Rita, you were about to explode. 

You were all there to talk about a plea. Although you could sense Rita and Gallagher would not be easy to persuade into a deal especially if it meant dropping out of the attorney general race and resigning from the bench, which was exactly what you wanted him to do. Rita was up in arms right away.

“No deal. Absolutely not. This is a personal and political attack.” Rita expressed, in utter shock with Sonny’s offer. 

“This isn’t personal and it isn’t political, your client is a rapist.” You spoke up, sending daggers at his smug face. He reeked of arrogance and abuse of power and it disgusted you entirely. 

“Take the deal, counselor. Your client could walk.” Sonny said. 

“Respectfully, pass. Judge, let’s go.” They both went to get up and Gallagher laughed.

“You people have no idea what you’re up against.” He said to all three of you and then turned to Sonny, “you keep this up and I’ll see to it you're disbarred. If you’re lucky, the NYPD will take you back doing traffic stops on Staten Island.” His words stirred an anger within you at his threat but Sonny laughed it off at the mere absurdity of it all. Of course he would make a threat, it’s how guys like him operated. Once again trying to abuse his power because he didn’t like to hear the truth. Rita and Gallagher were leaving when Gallagher turned back around. 

“Something they can’t teach you at Fordham, how to belong. The people who nod at you on the eighth floor, they can smell the flop sweat and the garlic coming off your cheap suit.” You were boiling with rage now and you went to say something before Liv pulled you back. 

“Keep going, Judge.” Was all Sonny said. You could tell now that the Judge’s words made their mark. Your heart ached terribly and you tried to step forward but Liv pulled you back again and shook her head. 

“Yeah? What do you want to hear you dumb dago.” Your heart fell into your stomach. You’ve heard that slur before, a derogatory slur for Italians. You were going to kill him and this time you yanked yourself out of Olivia’s grip but Sonny was the one to get in Gallagher’s face.

“Fine, I’ll take you right here.” Sonny argued, trying to step closer to the man but Liv pulled him back and Rita was ushering Gallagher out the door. 

“You’re so far in over your head you don’t even know your career’s dead and buried.” Gallagher’s threat were the final words to watch Sonny slowly start to unravel. 

“Are you okay?” You asked him, placing a reassuring hand on his arm. 

“M’fine, screw him.” Is all he said before he grabbed his briefcase and walked out. You and Liv shared a look, stunned at what just happened. Sonny was relatively quiet that night. You didn’t know what to say to make this better without sounding like you were saying it just because you were his girlfriend and you were ‘supposed’ to comfort him. You knew Gallagher’s words struck a chord with Sonny whether he admitted it or not. 

You had dinner ready for him when he came home, wanting him to relax after the long day. He had thanked you with a kiss and dug into his meal without another word. 

“Sonny, do you want to talk about it?” You asked your boyfriend as he looked over his papers once you two retired to the couch after dinner. 

“No, doll. I’m fine.” He didn’t even look up at you as he sorted through his stuff. You grabbed his hands and laced your fingers with his. He sighed and his eyes met yours. 

“Baby…” You tried but he shook his head.

“I’m embarrassed. I don’t want to talk about this right now. I want to get my bearings together and take this son of a bitch down.” You bit your lip and nodded. You knew Sonny would talk about it when he was ready. The fact that he even admitted to being embarrassed was sign enough and it also made your heart ache something fierce. 

“Okay. I’m going to go to bed but I need you to know there’s nothing to be embarrassed about. Especially not with me. His words weren’t true. Don’t let him get to you, baby.” His face was flushed pink and in that moment you wanted to find Gallagher and knock him out. But he’d pay, he wouldn’t get away with this. You had complete faith in Sonny’s courtroom abilities and he wouldn’t go down without a fight. 

“Thanks, doll.” He gave you a half smile and you pressed your lips to it. You put more effort in this kiss. Wanting him to know just how much you loved him and that you were there for him. 

“I love you, Sonny. We’re going to get him.”

It was a rough few days in court to say the least, of course when you thought Sonny was winning over the jury, Calhoun would come in and tear apart Sonny’s pull on them. And vice versa. You didn’t know what to think anymore and as much faith as you had in Sonny, you were worried that the jury may just let Gallagher off the hook like he always had been. But after another ADA, who testified against Gallagher, recorded him admitting to what he had done, it was game over. Rita came to a deal with Sonny and they took it in front of the judge. You weren’t all that happy with the outcome, the fact that he would be free of his own accord within an ankle monitor's limits… it wasn’t fair. It was disgusting honestly. And just when you were about to cut your losses and count this as a win, the judge spoke up. Not liking the deal that was offered, she demanded that Gallagher spend his year of house arrest in a jail cell. To say you were all relieved and emotional over the verdict was an understatement. Was one year enough for a man like Gallagher, not even close, but for now it would do. Sonny was happy with the outcome as he told you he’d see you at home after he finished up at the courthouse. 

You were more than eager to get home before Sonny, an idea formulating in your head of how you could celebrate this win for him. He deserved something special after such a stressful week. When you got home you received a text from Sonny alerting you he was on his way. You excitedly slipped on a lacy little number you had bought just last week and threw your silk robe over it. Sonny deserved some stress relief and you were going to give it to him. You heard the jingle of the keys in the lock and then he walked in. You walked over to him, a smile on your face. You wore the robe all the time so it wasn’t odd that Sonny didn’t think anything of it. He definitely didn’t know what was hiding underneath. 

“You did it, baby. I’m so proud of you.” You pulled him into you for a hug and he wrapped one arm around your waist and buried his other hand in your hair. 

“Team effort.” He said, pulling away. You rolled your eyes at his humbleness and placed a small kiss on his lips. 

“It was all you. Go sit down, I’ll get you a beer.” You patted his chest and he nodded, placing a kiss to your temple and sitting down on the couch. Taking off his jacket and loosening his tie. You went to the kitchen and to the fridge to pull out one of Sonny’s favorites, you twisted the cap and then walked over. Handing it to him from behind the couch. He took if from you and you placed your arms around him from behind. “Hey,” you whispered in his ear. Placing a kiss on the shell of it and lightly tracing your way down his neck with your lips. He hummed and when you ran your hands down his chest he set the bottle down on the table. 

“What’re you doing, doll?” There was a hint of amusement in his tone and you smiled. 

“I thought you deserved a little stress relief after this week. Figured you deserved a little something for all your hard work and dedication.” You whispered in his ear, he shifted slightly. 

“What’s this little something?” He asked, sounding out of breath already. You giggled and withdrew from him. Going around the couch to stand in front of him. He waited and when you started to undo your robe his brows lifted. The real treat was seeing his face as soon as the robe fell to the floor in a crimson heap. 

“Jesus christ.” Your red lace was a bit more scandalous than others in your collection and even had a garter belt which Sonny was eyeing appreciatively. 

“Now, Sonny, I thought you weren’t supposed to take the lord’s name in vain.” You crawled onto his lap. His hands immediately grabbed on to your waist and ran down to your thighs, getting his hands on whatever part of you he could. It felt comforting and you hummed in response. 

“Doll, this is…” He shook his head, not being able to find his words. You smiled and leaned down, pulling him in for a kiss. It was slow, and wet, and everything you both were needing. You could feel the tent in his pants as you sat comfortably in his lap. 

“Put this on just for me?” He asked, leaning forward to nip at your neck. You tightened your grip on his shoulders as he grabbed your ass in his hands and squeezed. You rocked forward on him making him groan as your clothed center slid across him. You let out a little whimper at the contact and continued to slowly grind down on him. Both of you needed this intimacy after a long week of work and barely any interaction. 

“Mmm, Sonny. God, you get me so wet without having to do anything.” It was true. Just one look from him and your thighs would clench. He had this air about him. He let out a groan at your words. 

“Listen to me,” You told him, taking his chin between your thumb and pointer finger to get him to meet your eyes. His were filled with need and you were going to give him what he wanted but first you needed to make sure he knew how important he was. “You, Dominick Carisi Jr. are one hell of a lawyer. One hell of a man. So damn intelligent. So fucking kind.” 

You rolled your hips as you spoke, keeping his gaze locked with yours. 

“I’m so proud of you. You should be proud of yourself. You’re exceptional, Sonny. No less.” You leaned down to place a soft kiss on his lips, “no less than exceptional.” When you pulled back his eyes were not just dark with lust but a gleam of love and appreciation. His eyes sparkled as he teared up. You knew your words got through to him, you knew he understood just how much he was loved and cared for. 

“I love you, curore mio.” My heart. You smiled and pulled him in for another kiss, letting it get away from you as your tongue met his. Eventually you had half a mind to pull away, still trying to stick to your plan. An exceptional man deserved something exceptional. 

���Gonna make you feel good, Sonny.” You said and slipped off his lap. He was confused at your withdrawal until you placed your hands on his thighs and got down on your knees, pushing his legs open to make room for you. 

“Fuck…” You smirked at his speechless state. You bit your lip as you undid his belt and unbuttoned his pants. He sat up to help you ease them down along with his briefs. He was already hard and leaking, his cock now pressed against his abdomen. You licked your palm and then placed it on his member, starting to slide it up and down. He groaned but kept his eyes on you. You leaned forward to have a taste, your mouth watering at the sight of him. You licked the precome off the tip and he let out a curse. He was always so sensitive and it only turned you on even more. The tang of him stayed on your tastebuds and you wanted more. You licked the underside of his shaft all the way back up to the tip, his hand tightened on the couch. 

“My handsome man,” you licked again, “so sexy, sonny.” Then another, “all mine.” 

“Shit, doll. So beautiful like this. Always so good to me.” He groaned as you took the head in your mouth and sucked. You flicked your tongue into the slit as you sucked a little harder and his hand flew to your hair as he moaned. You smirked around him and then pulled off to talk. 

“Want you to come down my throat.” Is all you said before you took him down your throat. He threw his head back as you encased him in your mouth. The warmth and weight on him on your tongue only made you wetter. But this wasn’t about you. 

“F-fuck, baby. That feels amazing, just like that.” He tried to control his hips and the hand in your hair as you bobbed up and down on his length. Taking him all the way down to the base and swallowing. He particularly liked that and had no control over his hips as he bucked deeper down your throat. You gagged on him but made no movement to stop which looked like he was about to suggest. As much as Sonny loved this, you loved doing it. Seeing him come undone above you, it was a heady kind of thrill and you only wanted to keep it going. You kept the fast pace, his cock now messy with your spit and his precome. You knew he was holding back, not wanting to hurt you as he simply kept his hand on your head, not pushing or pulling. But you wanted him to push, wanted him to let go and use your mouth. Wanted to see him come completely undone. You pulled off him and placed sloppy kisses down his cock and took his balls into your mouth as you stroked him.

“Oh god, doll. Fuck yes.” He panted as you sucked his balls and made them wet. 

“Don’t hold back, Sonny. Fuck my mouth.” You mumbled against his sac, mouthing at them and then sliding back up his cock to take him back into your mouth. 

“Are you sure?” He asked, worry evident on his face.

“Yes.” Is all you said as you take him back down again. He took a firmer grip on your hair and then bucked into your mouth, making you gag as he pushed you down with his hand. You encouraged him by not pulling off. He did it again and again.

“Oh, fuck. I like that. So good for me, so good…” He trailed off as he threw his head back and kept using your mouth to get off. Tears were rolling down your face and drool hung from your chin but you had never been wetter. You and Sonny we're no strangers to certain debauched activities but you two had never done this. It was making your center throb as his tip met the back of your throat. The sounds were obscene as he got off on your mouth. 

“Stay down on it, doll.” He breathed out as he held you down, your lips at the base of his cock. You placed your hands on his thighs and dove further into him making him yelp as he went farther down your throat. You then opened your mouth wider to stick your tongue out to lick right at his balls.

“Fuck, I’m gonna come. Keep doing that. Jesus christ, look at you.” He had his eyes on you again, as he had his cock down your throat and your tongue on his balls. You hummed around him and he started to come undone. 

“I’m coming.” He said before he started bucking fast into your mouth, you choked but tried to breathe through your nose as best as you could in order for him to get off. You reached up to fondle his balls. He let out a loud groan as his seed painted the back of your throat and he held you down as spurt after spurt of come was released. It was enthralling to watch him let go, powerful to know it was because of you. He loosened his grip in your hair once he came back down from his climax and you slid off him to swallow what you had. Sonny looked wrecked, not that you probably looked any better. You placed a kiss to his tip before wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. 

“That was… fuck that was amazing. Are you okay?” He asked, tugging at your arms for you to slide into his lap. You complied and placed your hands on his chest. 

“I’m fine, that was hot.” You said biting your lip. Your panties were definitely ruined with how wet you had gotten. 

“Yeah? Enjoyed that just as much as me?” He asked, against your neck as he trailed one hand down to your panties and slipped his fingers in. 

“Jesus, you did.” He said as he ran his fingers along your wet folds. You whined and bucked into his touch. You were already so close. 

“Like that, Sonny.” You moaned and arched your back as he rubbed at your clit and slipped two fingers inside you. You were already burning so damn hot with need it wasn’t going to take much to come just from his fingers alone. 

“Let me get my mouth on–”

“No, I’m not gonna last long. Just stay like that.” You held his hand in place with your other hand gripping onto his shoulder. You rode his fingers fast, so close to the edge after having your mouth on him.

“Fuck, doll. Look at you. So fucking needy. Want you to come for me.” He put more pressure on your clit and curled his fingers inside of you and you were done for. You let out a cry as your orgasm crashed into you, arching your back as Sonny continued his ministrations through your high. Your head clouded and your eyes grew heavy at the relief of your orgasm. You pushed his hand away once you came down, your clit now extremely sensitive. The build up of being turned on while going down on Sonny worked you up really well. 

“That was hot.” Sonny said as he brought his fingers to his mouth and sucked them clean. You groaned at the sight and leaned your forehead against his. You two were quiet as you gained back your breath and he pulled away to take your face in his hands.

“Thank you. For this but also for what you said.” He whispered, eyes staring right into yours. You knew the judge’s words hit a spot within Sonny, but so did yours and you knew they overpowered what was thrown at him the other day. 

“Exceptional, Sonny. Exceptional.” 

[adarafaelbarba]

paring: ADA!Sonny Carisi x reader

Fandom: Law and Order SVU

Warning: tw - death, tw - child’s death, very angsty

«Yes this is she», you normally didn’t answer your personal phone while working, unless it was the sitter. But you didn’t recognize the number, and they were insistent on getting a hold of you.

It felt like every part of you were breaking down at what the woman on the other end said. Like your heart was being ripped out, broken into a million pieces and shoved back in, tearing at everything in it’s way.

You hardly felt the phone slip out of your hand, or hear it crack on impact as it landed on the floor. Hardly felt it when you landed on your knees, and the scream you let out was a low muffle.

«Ms. (Y/L/N)?!» You didn’t care that people were staring at you, or that you would be the lunchroom talk for weeks if not months or years to come. None of that mattered.

«M—my—oh God! No!» You cried, clutching your chest over your heart.

You barely registered that your boss picked your phone up, responding to the doctor on the other end. «Oh God!» He murmured, «We’ll be there soon. Thanks doc.»

Sonny was at your side in seconds, not sure if he should touch you, or if he should say something. His hands hovering over her arms, «(Y/N)», he murmured, but you could hardly hear it.

There was a ringing in your ears, and then there was none as Sonny’s hands landed carefully on your arms, his thumbs rubbing over your cardigan. «You’re in no state to drive. I’ll take you to the hospital», Sonny murmured, helping you stand.

…

«I—I can’t do this, sir», you said, tears streaming down your cheeks as you stood by the window to the morgue. «I know—I’m here with you. Come on», Sonny replied, rubbing your arms. Nodding your head in defeat, you let him lead you into the room.

You gave another quick nod, to the doctor before taking a shaky breath as he removed the sheet down to the chest. «No!» You choked out, your legs turning jelly as Sonny held you up. «Oh God! My baby!»

Pulling away from Sonny, you leant on the table, caressing your child’s hair. You’d been thinking about getting their hair cut the upcoming weekend when you finally had some time off. Bending down, you kept caressing their hair as you pressed a kiss to their cold forehead.

Tears slipping as you struggled to find words to say. «How?» You croaked, not being able to look away from your child’s lifeless face. Zoning out, you were unsure what was said, hoping Sonny would fill you in later when you had come back to it, but you didn’t know if you could stomach the information.

Sonny’s hands were back on your arms again, which probably meant the doctor was done talking.

«W—wha—?» You mumbled when he tried to tell you something you didn’t pick up. «It was an accident» He responded, and you turned to him, tears in your eyes still. «But my baby—!»

Sonny let out a small sigh, «Wrong place at the wrong time.» His hands still on your arms. «A fucking—accident? That's why I'll never see—I'll ne...I'll—!» You croaked, hitting his chest, once, and then two times more before collapsing against him, bawling as he held you.

...

Sonny stayed by your side in the aftermath of the death of your child. Made sure you showered, brushed your teeth, hydrated. He cooked for you every day.

In fact, he unofficially moved in the day you had gotten the call.

If it was up to you, you would be staying in bed all day, shutting the world out. You had no energy for anything. No reason anymore to want to do anything.

«I know you don’t want to. But he has a right to know», Sonny said as he held your phone out, still cracked from when you had dropped it. «I can’t. He’ll hate me forever», you croaked, your voice having gone hoarse from all the crying.

You dreaded having to talk to your ex. Although you had been the one with full custody, he was still allowed to see your child once or twice a month, depending on how much he had to leave the city for work.

«Please don’t make me do this, Dom», you begged, looking at him. «He has the right to know.»

Taking a few shaky breaths, you dialled your ex husband’s number, pressing the phone to your ear.

Tears spilt freely as you had to retell what happened, Sonny holding your hand as you did, his thumb rubbing over the top of your hand in a soothing manner.

What broke you was how your ex reacted. He adored your kid, having talked about wanting to be there more for them, to be a better father. «I’m sorry», you whispered, nipping at your lower lip as he told you it wasn’t your fault.

When you finished the call you put your phone down before running to your room, throwing yourself on the bed. You didn’t want to exist anymore.

You could barely make out Sonny talking on the phone before he was at your door, knocking softly. «Can I come in?» He asked. You muffled out something he could only hope was a yes as he entered your room, kneeling by your bed.

«Someone told me they were holding a vigil for them tonight. Do you want to go? Or we can go somewhere else, just to get some fresh air.» He asked, looking at you.

It would be good to get out. But you didn’t know if you could stomach all the pitiful looks you would get from people. You would forever be known as the woman who’s child was senselessly murdered.

In the end you ended up going, figuring you would at least get some fresh air out of it.

The area where the vigil was being held was packed. Many faces were familiar to you as they were parents and children from the same school your kid went to. But there were people there you had never really seen before. All there mourning someone they didn’t know as well as you did.

Sonny stayed by your side as you made your way to the lights and flowers surrounding pictures of your child, a goofy smile on most of the pictures.

You knelt down, placing the flowers amongst the others and lighting a candle, saying an almost silent prayer.

Kneeling by you, Sonny rubbed your back soothingly, holding you as long as you needed before helping you stand.

You’d both stepped back a little when Sonny turned to you, shielding you from someone wanting to approach you. His eyes on you as he took your hands in his.

«Carisi? It’s okay—they’re safe», a woman said from behind him, and you faintly remembered her as being someone he worked with from SVU.

You gave Sonny a small nod as he turned to stand next to you. A man and woman standing there with Captain Benson.

The feeling of jealousy crept up as you watched them approach. They didn’t have to know what if was like to have to bury their child. You hated yourself for even thinking those thoughts.

«We’re so sorry for your loss, Ms. (Y/L/N). We can’t imagine what you’re going through», the woman said, not sure if she should hug you or not. You were happy she didn’t as you held onto Sonny’s hand.

«T—thank you», you mumbled, not knowing what else to say, but not wanting to be looked at with as much remorse as they were giving you.

...

You were tired of thanking people for coming as you stood at the funeral, Sonny at your side.

«(Y/N)?» Turning your head, you spotted your ex husband. Saying a small hello, you let him hug you, trying your best to not break down as he held you. «We’ll get through this.» You felt yourself nod, but you couldn’t really make yourself believe his words.

[orionwhispers]

Swan Song// Thomas Shelby 🍸

(A.N )- holy shit. holy shit. you guys... its finally finished. it took months but its finally done!!here is the long awaited and highly requested lolita wedding. im so happy you guys finally get to read it! i feel like my baby has all grown up lol. there might be errors and stuff bc its 16k words and im exhausted but hopefully you enjoy it. thanks for being so wonderful and patient. ily) also sorry for all the pics in the moodboard being white i try and be inclusive but smh pinterest sucks sometimes, anyone is welcome here. we are all hoes for tommy)

Trigger Warnings; so much fucking fluff, implied smut, some angst and mention of past injury.

PART 1  PART 2

It was one of those dreamy midsummer nights.

When even the sun didn’t want to retire for the evening; the sky a rich, milky blue, and the air still thick and warm like honey. You were on the window seat, clad in one of Ada’s many wedding presents, a blush silk slip and matching robe, a gift she had brought back from her week in Boston.

You were happy. Irrevocably so. The floor and love seat crowded with the people you held closest to your heart, the room smelt of expensive vanilla candles and strawberry wine, and the deep throaty rumble of laughter filled every empty space.

It was perfect. Well - almost.

You missed him.

It was only one night apart, you had spent longer times separated when he went out of town for business or you had a rambunctious girls weekend with Ada and Esme - but still you missed him entirely.

You knew he missed you too. That much was obvious from the disdain on his face when Arthur and Polly laid bare their plans for the night before your wedding. There hadn’t been time for an engagement party let alone a bachelor party - a few weeks after announcing the news Tommy had been due to attend to some business in New York, and he was adamant that you were to come along. He wanted to treat you, show you the vibrant city and all of the glitz and glamour of Broadway, but you knew that was only part of the reason. He didn’t like you out of his sight for too long, the wound on your chest might have been puckering into a scar but the pain was still fresh in his mind and his overprotectiveness had tripled.

After a brilliant few weeks away in the big apple, filled with passionate, breathless kisses and red satin dresses and driving hand in hand down the Brooklyn bridge, you finally returned home - but much like the city you had just left, Thomas Shelby had no time for sleeping. He was knee deep in new deals and navigating his partnership with Alfie Solomon’s, as well as his new venture of manufacturing gin. Despite the long nights and the early mornings, you never felt neglected. You loved him, all of him, and that included his workhorse nature and tenacity. And besides, he struggled being away from you, finding himself noticing the lack of warmth in his office, when at home you would be perched on his lap, pressing dizzying kisses to the base of his neck. He missed the sound of your laugh and the way that you giggled, biting your lip innocently, making him want to bite it even harder.

He loved you, and that god awful summer had shown him that all he truly cared about was having you by his side. So for every night he was at the office, or every morning he was out of bed before you woke up, he made it up to you with a weekend away, or a signed first edition of your favourite book, or a piece of jewellery he had made for you. They might have been material things, but the meaning couldn’t be clearer, he was hopelessly, dangerously, completely, in love with you.

His main present to you though, arrived a few days after his sudden proposal in his office.

He originally wanted to take you into London, show you the finest jewellers by the water and let you choose anything that caught your eye - only the best for his best girl - but, after everything, his plans had changed.

Truthfully, marriage had been on the tip of his tongue since that very first day he locked eyes with you in the Garrison. He knew he had to have you, even before he knew your name, and by the time the two of you first kissed, tasting like sweet strawberries and cigarettes, he knew you would be the woman to take his.

But things got in the way. Marriage wasn’t as simple as it might have been for the people you passed in the streets. Marriage to him was like putting a target on your back, it meant your entire life being intertwined with his, the whole world knowing that you were the woman that made him fall to his knees. It would take everything from you, and the darkness would slowly start to seep into the light that surrounded you, and he needed to keep you safe for as long as he could. He knew he was going to marry you, it was just as clear in his mind as it was that he was the leader of the Blinders, you were the missing piece in his puzzle.

But of course, his plans were blown to smithereens when the bullet shattered your collarbone that summers eve. His visions of red roses and rich wine and getting on one knee, feeling like a goddamn kid again when you gave him that smile as he pushed the ring onto your finger, were flung to the wind. And instead, his honeyed words were swapped with breathless desire and need, whispered in your hair as you were cradled in his arms, in the afterglow of such a dreadful day.

The one thing he knew he could get right, however, was the ring.

It had to be special. It had to be you. Something soft and sweet and gentle, but with an edge - sharp and strong and beautiful. Of course, it would be impossible to find any diamond or pearl that could compete with your beauty, but he wanted you to have the best.

That wasn’t the only reason though.

It had more to do with the jewel that had hung around your neck that day at the ball, the one that haunted him when the sky got dark and you were fast asleep beside him. He had come so close to losing you, only a hair away from the girl he loved being buried, and the thought was driving him mad. He controlled every aspect of his life, but this was something completely out of his grasp, and he needed to stop his dangerous thoughts.

He hadn’t been superstitious since he was a boy chasing his brothers through fields of wildflowers and listening to Polly’s ramblings by the fire, but he had to rule out every possibility. So a few days after he proposed, and with the best doctor in Birmingham giving you the all clear (and triple checking that the house was secured and being watched by practically a small army of Blinders - and a stern warning to Michael, Isaiah and Finn that if even a hair on top of your head was misplaced by the time he got back, none of them would be able to have any children)- he set off.

He told you he was signing a deal in Manchester, but he was really only a few miles away, at the campsite where he had spent the majority of his youth. It was all rolling hills of deep emerald and jade, and fog that curled and twisted around his ankles, and for the first time in a long time, he felt out of place. He had chosen the ring with the help of Polly, who was adamant she knew your taste better than him, something he vehemently denied.

It was beautiful and unique, just like you, and he never felt such a profound rush of love quite like when he pictured slotting it onto your finger. It was big, but not overly so - nothing tacky or too much, Tommy knowing that you never wanted anything glimmering or gaudy and that you’d probably hit him and then faint if you knew the price. But, in his eyes - nothing was too expensive for his little girl. Besides, he particularly liked the way the ring shone in the light, imagining all the men that would fuck off and leave with their tail between their legs when they saw it and realised that the most beautiful woman in the room was already spoken for.

The diamond was brilliant and a “Princess” cut, something that made him smirk because it was one of his favourite pet names for you, and he couldn’t imagine anything more fitting. The band was solid gold, two different paths that intertwined and curled like summer vines, making him think of the lightness and whimsy you carried around you. What really sold him though, were the soft, twinkling rose quartz gems that cocooned the diamond.

“For protection.” Polly had muttered as he twisted the ring between his fingers under the dim lighting in the store. He had rolled his eyes when she spoke but secretly the meaning behind them made his gut twist. Protection was something that he needed you to have in abundance, even if it came from small crystals the size of a half grain of rice.

The ring was so perfect. So rare and alluring and undeniably you, and he walked out the door with the feeling of pure content, something that only even happened when he thought of you. But he knew there was more for him to do. He sent Polly home, ignoring the raised eyebrows she gave him and brushed off the sixth sense his Aunt had always had. And with the ring safely nestled in its plush navy box in his breast pocket, he drove off.

The campsite felt like the past. It felt as though he was visiting somewhere deep in the confines of his mind, somewhere that he had locked and stored away and forgotten about, only now being able to see through the thick haze of smog. He met the elderly woman by the doors of her caravan, noticing the difference between his sharp suit and the furs and shawls she had covering her body. She smiled and invited him in, pouring him a cup of something that smelt like sap and crisp autumn apples.

“It’s been a long time, Thomas.” She said, eyes so dark they almost looked black as she watched him curiously.

“That it has.”

“What brings you to this part of the woods then? I thought you would have forgotten about the rest of us.”

It was a dig, but he refused to rise to it. He wasn’t in the mood for petty jibes.

“I’ve been busy.”

“So I hear.” She exhaled, stirring her tea meticulously with a golden spoon. “They tell me you’re practically running the country.”

He smiled softly and falsely, digging his hand deep into his pocket. “Let’s cut to the chase, eh?” He pulled out the small box, opening it in his palm, and twisting it round so that the clear cut diamond was twinkling right before her.

She grinned, leaning forward on her elbows to get a better look. “It’s beautiful. Must have cost a pretty penny.”

“The woman it’s for is worth it.”

“I don’t doubt that.”

“I know why you’re here,Tom. The boys told me what happened at that party of yours.”

He cleared his throat, not liking the lack of control he had over the conversation.

“Right, well then. Just tell me what I need to know.”

She closed her eyes, muttering something under her breath, and Tommy sat back on his haunches, his eyebrows raised in disbelief. Was he really fucking doing this? Sitting in a caravan in the middle of fucking nowhere getting his jewellery cleansed by some batty old woman he knew as a child? It went against everything he believed in, and was the exact opposite of the calm and level headed way he ran his business.

But then he thought of you. And your light. Your sweetness and the sound of your laugh, the curve of your lips and the flowers you wore in your hair and the grass stains on your little white dresses. He thought of the scar that ran along your collarbone, and the feeling of white hot desperation that had coursed through him when he that you might not wake up.

You were worth it. Fuck sensibilities and rationality. He’d drive to the fucking ends of the earth if it meant that it would keep you even just a little bit safer.

After what felt like an age, the woman opened her eyes and raised her head. She used the edge of one of her many colourful scarves to wipe the surface of the gems, her hands moving in quick, rhythmic circles.

“It’s clean.” She said. “There’s nothing bad on it. At least, not that I can see.”

Tommy felt the anvil strapped to his chest suddenly fill and float like a balloon, but he didn’t let it show. Instead, he brushed off the relief flooding though his body, and straightened up. “Well I came to the best.”

She smiled, both smugly and bashfully, the way most women felt around Tommy. “That you did my love.”

His fingertips merely brushed the top of the roll of money he had stuffed in his pocket, and the elderly woman sat back, shaking her head at him.

“It’s on the house. Maybe you can bring your girl around one day, I know we’d all like to meet her.”

Not fucking likely he thought. No way in hell would he bring you to a place like this, whilst he still had good memory’s of his youth, he didn’t trust the people that still lurked in the fields around this place.

Wanting to settle the score, he held out a wad of notes. “I insist.”

“And I decline.”

He didn’t like the way the conversation had ended, it didn’t sit quite right with him. He liked to make his deals as open and closed as possible, money was the best way to seal a deal, he didn’t work with favours. “Right, well. Thank you for everything.”

He looked out of the windows of the caravan as he gathered his things. It was starting to get dark, the sky blushing like summer strawberries and freshly sliced peaches, the air still a little thick from the heat. All that he wanted now was to get home to you, everything else had faded to static in his ears. He bit back a grin as he thought of how you would smile, all teeth and round cheeks and wide eyes when he showed you the ring. He imagined it sitting pretty on your finger, the nudge of the jewel against his when you intertwined hands and the way it would dazzle at night, not nearly as beautiful as you as you laid beneath him, sweaty and breathless and ethereal.

As sudden as a gunshot, sharp words from behind him cut through his daydreams like a blade.

“Have you ever considered, Tom?”

He merely paused, not even bothering to spin on his heel and face her. He knew what she was going to say and yet it still felt like a knife digging into a fresh wound as she continued speaking.

“That maybe it’s not the jewels? Maybe it’s you?”

He wasn’t the type of man to back down from a fight, and he was the unrivalled champion of maintaining his composure and remaining calm under every type of pressure, but even he couldn’t deny the shivers that twisted around the bottom of his spine at the implication of her words.

“Yes. I have.”

He could feel her shifting behind him, ready to lure him in, tell him the thing that kept him up at night and clawed at his throat when he watched you sleep; that perhaps he was the poison that seemed to follow you like a dark cloud. He was much too selfish, far too infatuated with you to keep you at arms length. The deafening ache that perhaps you were the reason he finally felt alive, and that maybe he was the reason you would end up buried. 

He didn’t allow himself to think any more, tossing his cash towards her, not even bothering to check if she caught it or if it landed on the floor, instead he raised a hand and walked off, murmuring under his breath. “Keep the change.”

He waited until he was back in his car, with a cigarette between his lips and the sour smell of petrol and ash filling his lungs before he finally inhaled, glad to be out of the fucking fresh air.

—————————————————————

Your reaction was even better than he imagined.

It was dark by the time he eventually got home, and he didn’t miss the buzz of warmth that pulling into the driveway brought. It was bizarre, he had spent so long feeling nothing that meeting you had reignited everything inside of him, he felt like a boy again, nervous and elated to see the girl he loved.

The lights were on, reflecting through the windows like flickering candles, and a pleasant yellow glow engulfed the shadows in the gravel. He could hear voices, (mainly Arthur’s), deep low laughter and the sound of music all throughout the halls. He winced slightly, hoping that whatever ruckus his family had brought wasn’t keeping you from resting. He was certain that this impromptu gathering was his brothers idea of raising your spirits, but Tommy would have felt much more comfortable knowing that you were peaceful and recovering somewhere safe, knowing that you were far too polite to send his family away.

“What the fucks all this noise, eh?” He shouted as entered, his tone was sharp but even he couldn’t stop the tiny grin making its way onto his face as he watched Arthur and John drunkenly dance in the living room.

“Ay! You’re back? How did it go?” Arthur asked, holding out his arms in greeting as his speech slurred.

“Everything’s in order.”

“Hurrah!” Arthur swayed on unsteady legs like a sailor on the rough seas, and

“Bloody hell Arthur, what the fuck are you on?” John laughed,

“It’s a celebration, brother.”

Tommy pushed him aside playfully, tuning out the sound of their bickering as he strode further in the living room, eyes brushing past all of the faces crowded around, his heart stopping when he finally found the one he was after.

You were curled up on the sofa by the fireplace with your legs tucked underneath you, your face flushing deliciously, the spark slowly reigniting inside of you - and Tommy swore that he had never seen something so beautiful. Michael, Isaiah and Finn were crowded around you, looking much younger than their years, playing cards in their hands and big, toothy grins, occasionally accusing the other of cheating. Polly watched from beside the fireplace, something that had once been the beating heart of the house, a place where the two of you coexisted so magnificently. He thought of the flames from the logs and also from deep inside of him, devouring you completely on the hardwood floors, the sound of your moans mixing with the crackle and snap of the kindling. He hadn’t looked at the fireplace since you had been shot, it was too intimate, too personal, memories of early morning laughter and pure carnal hunger when the sun set, his fingertips pressing against the softness of your throat as you melted like paper under him.

Now though, it had been filled with empty wine bottles stuffed with candles, wax dripping and melting down their green glass necks, the room smelling like cherries and lavender. He knew you had put them there, and it made him exhale, because it no longer hurt to look at it, and he knew that eventually, the fireplace would be yours again.

Polly caught his eye from over the sofa, hers glittering and twinkling with suspicion of where her nephew had been, taking a long, poignant drag from her cigarette. He ignored her. He had no doubts that she was completely aware of what he had been doing, and that imagining him back at his roots was conjuring a particular mental image in her head, but right now that was the least of his concern.

He tore though the living room, almost colliding with a dozen bodies, it seemed Arthur had dug up every close acquaintance within twenty miles and invited them over. The room smelt like sour whisky and spilled wine, and he swore he could see his expensive furniture lowering in price by the minute.

He loved his family, he would do anything for them, but God he wished to the highest heavens that they would fuck off so he could spend some time with his girl. If it was up to him the house would be completely empty, nothing but the sound of your laugh and the thump of your heart, fuck everything else.

You were wrapped up in your poker game, head tilted back as you laughed at something Finn had whispered to you, the small creamy corner of your bandage poking out from the collar of your dress. Tommy swore inwardly, the sight making him falter. As quickly as the feeling came, he brushed it away, not wanting you to see him worry, not wanting himself to fall into old and dangerous habits.

Finn saw him first, his youngest brother looking impossibly boyish and playful as he laughed with his friends, a world away from the man he tried so hard to be. One look and he was on his feet, quickly swatting Isaiah and Michael and gathering the cards in his hands. Tommy patted his shoulder fondly, his eyes fixed firmly on you, watching your pupils dilate and sparkle when you finally caught sight of him.

“You’re back.”

Breathless. Angelic. Innocent. It took everything in him to not gather you in his arms and take you upstairs all for himself.

“And you should be in bed.”

He sat down next to you, his knee brushing against yours.

You smelt of home.

Of sweet cinnamon and strawberries and wildflowers, messy hair and woodsmoke. You finally smelt like yourself, not like the chemicals and disinfectants that now filled the halls, making him want to set his whole damn estate alight because the reminders of what they caused were too painful.

“I’ve been resting for weeks, Tommy. Let me have a little fun.”

You gave him that smile. The one that made his knees buckle. The one that would have made him sign his company over to you if you asked - not that there would ever be a time he would say no to you. It was bizarre, how you were sitting there with no makeup on, your hair tied back with a baby pink ribbon, and you were undoubtedly the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen.

“Alright, alright, enough with the pouting.” He winked at you, making a kaleidoscope of butterflies erupt in your stomach. If it had just been the two of you he would have leant in and kissed you stupid, but he didn’t want to give his drunken brothers something else to whoop and tease about. He would save his romantics for later, when you were alone, and he could take his well earned time and leisure to ravage you.

He pulled you close to him, wrapping an arm around the edge of the sofa and over your shoulders, keeping you as close and protected as he possibly could, the simple action comforting him immensely. You snuggled into him, his body so warm and firm and safe, and he pressed a kiss to your neck as you relaxed, his lips scorching you like a brand. He felt his whole body exhale, feeling at ease because he was with the people he loved most in the world, with you tucked into his side like you were carved there, and the feel of your fingertips ghosting over his chest. His life was so fast paced and hectic and his mind was whirring a mile a minute, but at that moment, the there was no where else he would rather be.

His patience lasted exactly 47 minutes. His composure and lenience with his family finally snapped when Arthur bet John that he could do a better handstand than him, proceeded to leap onto his hands, flail about disastrously and then crash right into the console table, shattering an array of fine china and imported vases.

“Oh John, look what you did ya’ stupid cunt.” He said when he got to his feet, his hands slashed to ribbons and blood dripping onto the carpet. Esme rolled her eyes, grabbing her brother in law by the collar and dragging him out of the room to bandage him up before he inevitably passed out from all the alcohol.

Tommy straightened out next to you as Mary quickly rushed in and gathered the glimmering shards with a dustpan and brush. He heaved himself to his feet, reluctant to withdraw from your side, and he cleared his throat once before speaking. “Alright, that’s enough for tonight, everybody fuck off.”

You rolled your eyes at his terrible bedside manner, tugging on the edge of his rolled sleeve playfully, making a small smile cross the edge of his lips. Polly pressed a hand to your shoulder as she herded the boys out of the room, each of them mumbling drunken goodbyes and pressing whisky stained kisses to your cheeks, mindful of the placement of their hands and your scar, mainly because of Tommy’s sharp, warning glare.

Johnny Dogs grumbled something along the lines of parting, but instead passed out face down on the carpet, his body rising and falling with heavy snores. Tommy waited rather impatiently as you said goodbye to the remaining guests, wanting nothing more than some well earned solace with his girl.

When you were finally alone, the moon dancing across your skin through the large open windows, soft music filling the room and the smell of sticky split wine following you both, he pulled you into his arms. He looked at your face and smiled. You were ethereal. Golden and glowing in the twilight, eyes sparkling like diamonds. Your face had changed a little in the time you had been together, your body and mind maturing and adapting, but you still looked so young. A breath of clear, fresh air amongst all of the smoke.

He lifted his hand to wipe a few specks of shimmering rose rouge from your cheeks, evidently left from where Esme hugged you goodbye, but you got there first, playfully taking his finger in your mouth and gently sucking and biting at his fingertip.

He felt a fire ignite in his stomach and his trousers tighten. How were you - so small and sweet and innocent, able to control his body like you were a master puppeteer and he was nothing but wood and string? It was baffling to him, an enigma that he craved to solve but knew that he never could. He was completely and incurably love sick.

You were going to be the death of him.

He pulled you even closer, freeing himself from your grip and taking your head in his hands, smashing his lips onto yours. You melted into him, practically putty in his hands. His teeth clashed against yours, the kiss was messy and desperate, as though you were two kids determined to make the most of the time you had alone. He felt everything wash off of him, all of his stress and tension melting down his spine like candle wax. Because, with your body flush against his and his mouth pressed up against your own, he was home.

You pulled away shyly and reluctancy, and he felt the absence of your warmth immediately. He moved to drag you back, not done with you just yet, but he followed your gaze to the man on the floor. Johnny had somehow managed to roll over onto his back, still asleep and snoring, but with his eyes half open, his gaze focused on the two of you. Tommy let out a rare, genuine laugh, and it made you feel like somebody had lit a firework in your chest. He wrapped his fingers against your own and tugged softly, his voice deep and rumbling like the ocean.

“Let’s go upstairs, princess. I’ve got something to give to you.”

Your room was safe and it was warm. It smelt like ripe peaches and fresh mint and rolling tobacco, like leather and lace; innocence and sin. It had finally become yours again, interlocked like your fingers, intertwined like your hearts, something so precious and belonging to just the two of you. It had broken his already shattered heart when you were separated, and looking at you now through heavy eyelids as you sat on your knees in bed, waiting expectantly for him to reveal his present, he took a moment to thank whoever was listening for giving him a goddamn angel.

“You need to stop buying me things, Tommy.” You scolded gently, shifting on your legs.

“I’ll do whatever I bloody feel like.” He replied, undoing his cuff links and loosing his tie. He liked to always be properly dressed and sharp, but around you he wanted nothing more than to lose himself in your sweet comfort.

You watched him, so beautiful and angelic looking under the yellow lights. You smiled to yourself at his mussed hair and natural pink pout; the side to him that only ever flared up around you. You kept your eyes trained on him as he rummaged around the room, taking off his jacket and folding it over a chair before turning around and pointing a finger at you.

“Close your eyes.”

You huffed. “Is that really necessary?”

“Close ‘em.”

You looked up at him teasingly, exhaling loudly before closing your eyes. You felt him moving around the room, listening to the soft creaks of the wood and the sound of his footsteps as he approached the bed. He lifted your arm and you giggled as his fingertips ran down your skin, stopping at the middle of your wrist, pressing a kiss to your pulse point. You opened your mouth to speak but before you could he pushed something onto your ring finger. Even with your eyes closed you could feel his smile.

“Open.”

It took you a moment to register what you were seeing, the surprise knocking the air right out of your lungs. Your eyes flickered from him back down to your ring, your mouth agape. You hadn’t really thought about an engagement ring, flashy diamonds weren’t really up your alley and with everything that had happened tradition seemed to have flown out of the window, but you should have known Tommy would always be one step ahead. It was beautiful. So brilliant and classic and totally you, and you could feel tears pricking behind your eyes, your mouth going dry.

“Oh, Tom! Oh, Tommy it’s beautiful!” All of your restraint was gone, and you leapt onto him, wrapping your legs around his waist as he caught you effortlessly, like he always would. He let out a laugh, slightly stunned from your reaction, and the feeling of your lips pressing hot, quick kisses all across his skin. He held you tight, burying his nose in your hair and pulling you impossibly closer.

He felt your lips at the base of his ear, brushing against his flesh as you spoke. “This must have cost a fortune!”

He shook his head, not even needing words to convey his feelings. To him it was obvious. Nothing would ever be too much for you.

You admired it from over his shoulder, watching the hypnotising way that it glimmered in the light. He gently walked forward, leaning you down so that you were in contact with the bed, tilting up your face so that you were looking him in the eye.

“There’s something else.”

“Tommy - ”

He had already started unbuttoning his shirt, and you sat back and watched as his nimble fingers looped down his torso, finally grabbing something underneath and holding it towards you.

You inhaled sharply, feeling yourself floating.

He had your name engraved on a silver dog tag, much like the ones he had thrown into the cut with Freddie along with his medals of honour. This was what mattered to him, your name carved into the metal, dangling right next to his heart, because it was only you who owned it.

Your eyes met, filled with love and lust and true happiness. A week ago you had been lying in bed, terrified that Tommy might not be in love with you, but now it was clear that the two of you were bound together, that you were the safety of a lighthouse to his wandering ship.

He kissed you - greedily and open mouthed, and you fell into him, letting him devour you. His hands worked quickly, desperate to see all of you, everything laid bare for him, with nothing but the ring glinting under the pale light of the moon. He kissed your neck, collarbone, throat, his hands and calloused fingertips brushing your flesh.

“I love you, (Y/N).” He said and you melted. You never felt short of love around him, but hearing those three words was like a hit of heroin, and you were desperate for more. You knew that he was as well, that he craved your stability and the sweetness you gave him, and you pulled his head from the crook of your neck, getting lost in those ocean eyes.

“Oh, Tommy. I love you.”

—————————————————————

The weeks passed, and the ring on your finger still gave you goosebumps when you saw it - a reminder of the man you loved. Life continued, business slowly dripping back into your days, the hazy bubble of love you had entered starting to pop but never fully dissolving. Tommy was adamant that you shouldn’t start back at work, making it very clear to you that he didn’t want you doing anything until he was beyond certain that you were completely healed.

You hated being stuck in the house however, and still managed to find a way to get a very reluctant Michael to sneak in some accounting work for you to do. Something that made Tommy see red when he found out, only to have you pout and preen and make all of his anger subside, although Michael wasn’t as lucky.

Wedding planning hadn’t been on your mind, not with business booming or the wonderful trip to New York. You were happy with everything, dizzied with love and lust and laughter, and whilst your finger had gotten much heavier, there was nothing in your relationship you wanted to change.

That didn’t stop Polly or Ada however from trying to plan the best party England had ever seen.

You remembered a sleepy Sunday morning with the two of them, and the shrill sound they both made when you said that you didn’t want a big wedding.

“What? Finally something bloody good happens to this family and you don’t want us to celebrate?”

You rolled your eyes, dunking your biscuit into your coffee with a smile. “I’m not saying we can’t celebrate, I’m just saying that I haven’t really thought about it, I just want something small.”

“Small? Every woman has dreamt of her wedding day!”

You looked over at Ada, wanting her to back you up against such traditionalist views. Instead, she held up her hands and laughed, shrugging her shoulders. “I hate to admit it, (Y/N) but I agree with Pol! It’s about time this family had something good happen, and you and Tom deserve a bloody wonderful day. I’ve never seen a love story quite like yours.”

You smiled at her kindness but didn’t let up, stirring your tea with your matching spoon.“I don’t want a fuss! I don’t need a big wedding to be happy, I just need him.”

“Well that’s sweet.” Polly interjected. “But I want to buy some new furs and get drunk and wake up next to a man who likes to buy me diamonds.”

You laughed out loud.

“Since when do you need a man to buy you diamonds?” Ada snorted, staring down her aunt over her strawberry filled pastry.

“I don’t. But they always look better when they’ve been bought by someone else.”

You sighed, watching the two of them playfully bicker, feeling so grateful that the stars had aligned and they were now your family.

“So you don’t have any plans? Not even a date or a dress in mind?” Polly asked, her brisk voice cutting through the banter.

“No.” You smiled. “The only thing I’m sure about is the groom.”

Polly rolled her eyes. “Well that’s going to need to change.”

——————————————————————

Slowly but surely you started to fall back into old habits and patterns, picking up where you left off at the Garrison, and meeting Michael and Isaiah for drinks in the city. Tommy was reluctant to loosen his grip at first, so used to having you all over him in the comfort of your own home, safe and warm under the protection of his watchful gaze and gentle hands. He knew that he didn’t own you, and that he couldn’t keep you under lock and key like a prisoner, but he spent those first few weeks anxiously pacing in his study, dreading the phone ringing and finding that you had once again been hurt because of him.

He kept his work as separate from you as he could. He knew you wanted to be by his side through everything, but the wound was too fresh for him, too raw, and he needed to know that you were safe. So he kept his sins and misdemeanours away from you, making his home his sanctuary and you his oasis, finding religion in your lips and solace in your touch.

You were in no hurry to arrange anything. As much as you loved the idea of Tommy being your husband, you were happy to just let things slowly fall into place and try to regain whatever normalcy you had lost - but your future in laws had different plans.

Polly was a whirlwind. She spent the majority of her free time writing letters and phoning different market vendors from all over the world, her office filled with sugar icing and the finest loose leaf tea that money could buy, all gifts from those wanting to cater what was set to be the “wedding of the century.”

You didn’t mind - even when she stole you away for an entire work day to pick out cutlery and matching table runners, or you came back from the department store with pin pricks up and down your body from hours of having dresses fitted. She was happy, and when darkness seemed to follow the family like a storm cloud, you were adamant at grasping at whatever you could get, even if it wasn’t quite what you envisioned.

You knew Tommy found the whole thing hilarious. How his stoic and level headed Aunt had been swept up in lavender and lace, snapping at bakers over mango whipped frosting and arguing about the best way to cook lamb. It made him so damn happy though, when you came home after a long day - eyes tired but sparkling, face flushed and glowing, the way that he always wanted you to be. The distraction was what you needed, something sugar coated and dreamy to blur everything that had happened, and he knew that you were in great hands with Polly.

He couldn’t even deny that he was looking forward to the day. He knew more than anything that he wanted you to be his wife, and whilst he loved shiny, expensive things, all he truly needed was you by his side. He didn’t want a fuss, he wanted whatever you did, but imagining you all wide eyed and honey lipped at the alter, rings forever symbolising your connection, the sound of your first name with his last.

Well, that he liked.

Even though you were feeling a little out of your depth amongst all of the wedding planning, there were some things that you knew that you wanted. Like, the powder pink roses from the bushes Tommy had gifted you for your birthday to line the stairway, and ocean blue forget me nots in the bouquet - to match his eyes. You even had a hazy vision of what you wanted your dress to be, the hours spent walking through boutiques in London with Ada paying off as you debated A line, trumpet, and ball gown style dresses.

The main thing you were certain about, however, was who you wanted by your side throughout the whole thing. You had a feeling he knew something like this was coming, he always did have a way of knowing what you were thinking, but even Michael wasn’t expecting you to leap out of his wardrobe hand in hand with Finn, holding out a small cupcake with a candle on the top one rainy evening.

“Holy shit!” He squealed, watching as you and his cousin broke down in fits of laughter, clutching each other as you toppled onto the floor, jackets and shirts trailing behind you.“What the fuck is wrong with you?”

“Surprise!” You managed to say in between deep throaty giggles. “We wanted to catch you off guard!”

“Well you fucking did.” He tutted, “Hiding in my wardrobe! Nearly fucking shat myself.”

Your laughter was infectious, and soon all three of you were close to tears, your bodies exhausted and elated, gripping onto one another to stop from completely collapsing.

“So what was the point of this ambush, then?” He asked finally, his hands on his knees as he gasped for air, his face slowly returning to its normal colour.

You thrust the cupcake under his nose, the tip of the flame narrowly missing singeing the little hairs on his upper lip. “I want you to be my maid of honour! Well, man of honour.” You corrected quickly.

“You want me to be your what?”

Quick to silence his objections, you added - “Finn’s going to be flower girl!”

“Flower boy.” He interjected, “Katie’s flower girl. I’m just doing you a favour.”

“Yeah. Right.”

You and Michael locked eyes for a moment, challenging the other with your gaze. After a tense minute of silence, he broke out in a smile, one of the classic, cheesy ones that you loved so much.

“Do I have to wear a dress?”

You grinned. “Only if you want to.”

He threw his arms in the air in mock defeat, and he seemed so much younger, reminding you of running barefoot with him through raspberry fields, and throwing pennies down a pretty little well.

“Alright. Okay. Yes! Bloody hell.”

You leapt into his arms and Finn whooped triumphantly, partly pleased for you but mostly happy that he wasn’t the only member of the family who had somehow been talked into something he was bound to be teased over.

You felt Michael press a kiss to the crown of your head, his words getting muffled by your loose hair. “God, does Tommy even know what he’s got himself in for with you?”

You smiled, as sweet as spun sugar.

“Nope.”

—————————————————————-

As much as you wanted to stay in the rose tinted bubble that wedding planning had created, more and more problems with the business started to arise, and everything had to be put on the back burner - but it never dampened your spirits.

The hot summer days bled into crisp autumn nights, and you were trading your short lavender dresses for fur lined coats and boots. You celebrated Christmas with everyone, and discovered that a day you never used to enjoy was now your favourite, all because of the man you would up beside.

New Years passed in a flurry of drunken kisses and gold dresses and dancing until the sun rose. You vaguely remember finding Arthur passed out in the bathtub, surrounded by ice and champagne, the gramophone shaking the paintings on the walls. Your main memory was Tommy pulling you down the hall with him, away from the rest of the family, kissing you right as the clock struck midnight with hands tangled in your hair and a smile on his lips.

He often left for weeks at a time, work taking him up and down the country, and that meant that every morning and night you spent together was treasured.

One particular spring morning, when the air was starting to warm up and the days getting a little longer, you were sprawled on Tommy’s lap in the garden, reading from your novel whilst he read the paper. The day was less than half way though and you had already spent the entire morning in bed, making up for all the time you had lost. Now you leafed through your book with strawberry stained fingers, the curl of cigarette smoke twisting around you both.

Tommy had made it certain that he was not to be bothered that day. It had been almost an entire month of nothing but speaking over the phone and stolen kisses before he had to up and leave again, and the only thing he goddamn wanted was to do absolutely nothing with you. He was exhausted, not that he would ever admit it, but because you knew him better than absolutely everyone, you forced him to take a break before the man you loved completely crumbled like a bourbon biscuit.

So when you knew that he was coming back, you gave Mary strict orders to ignore all phone calls or mail regarding the business until the weekend was over. She had happily obliged, so you and Tom were both confused when you saw her running through the grass in her wingtips, her hands still soapy and wet from doing the dishes.

“Oh Mr Shelby! And Mrs Shelby!” She called, her voice so shrill that a few birds even took flight. “Isn’t it wonderful?”

Tommy sat up as best he could with you on his lap, his arms snaking around your waist to stop you from toppling over. You could feel the cigarette moving with his lips as he spoke, his accent deep and throaty in your ear.

“Mary? What is it?”

She didn’t reply, instead thrusting a sage green and gold piece of paper at you. You caught it before it fell to the floor, and let out a loud, genuine laugh when you read the script. You felt Tommy leaning over you shoulder, and felt the rumble of his body as he laughed with you.

“Well,” He said finally, pressing his lips to your neck. “Guess we know what we’re doing next month, Princess.”

On July 20th

Please join us for the union of Mr Thomas Shelby and (Y/N, Y/L/N).

The wedding of the century!

————————————————————————————

Polly had organised everything. Whilst you had been dealing with the accounting from the Garrison and Tommy had been building his business, Polly had managed to do her job, and single handily plan a wedding.

Everything was full steam ahead. The house was a flurry of florists and caterers, the grounds were picked and preened and polished by gardeners that had sailed over from Italy and the south of France. It was wonderful, if not a little overwhelming, but it was worth everything to see your future Aunt beaming as she supervised everything.

Tommy had pulled you aside a few times, determined to make sure that this was what you wanted, ready to pull the plug if he even caught a whiff that all of the glitz and glamour were out of your comfort zone. But Polly knew you well - not that you ever doubted her - and everything was beautiful and muted, classic and beguiling, just like something out of a fairytale.

You tried to be as involved as you could, picking out flowers for the bouquets, letting Esme try out a million different hairstyles on you as you sat barefoot and cross legged on the floor like a child, running around the kitchen with Katie, taste testing all of the frosting you could find. More than anything though, you were excited, elated for the day and it had nothing to do with all of the smoke and mirrors, instead it was the man you would meet at the end of the aisle.

You could tell that Tommy was getting antsy for the day as well. He was softer, calmer, his touch on your skin gentle but possessive, calling you “Mrs Shelby” as you came apart under him. He found himself falling asleep a little easier, his breath not getting caught in his lungs, his mind wandering and imagining his favourite girl in a pretty white dress, waiting for him under an arch of blush coloured tulips.

The real surprise though, came the morning before your wedding. You were curled up on the sofa drinking strong coffee and eating honey toast as Tommy finished some paperwork. He was trying to get everything done before the end of the day, wanting tomorrow and the weeks that came after to be nothing but the two of you.

You told him you never felt neglected. You had been by his side through it all, you knew just how demanding his job was, but that still didn’t ease the niggle of pressure at the back of his neck when he had his nose in his books for too long. He truly couldn’t wait until he could shove everything and everyone else aside. All he wanted was his girl in his arms with his ring on her finger, and a bottle of sweet gin.

Everything seemed so within reach, until the front door banged open like a whirlwind, and you heard the sounds of Polly’s stilettos against the hardwood floor.

“Alright you two, no time to lose!”

You and Tommy lifted your heads quickly, your eyes meeting across the room. “Polly?”

“- and Arthur!” An voice added, accompanied by the familiar face of the eldest Shelby.

You smiled, shutting the cover of your book. “To what do we owe the pleasure?”

Tommy shot you a sharp look that said, don’t encourage them, but you ignored him, getting to your feet to greet them both.

Polly kissed you quickly on both cheeks, leaving you covered in a light layer of sticky red lipstick as she surveyed you both.

The study was the only place the two of you could find solace amongst the craziness of the wedding planning, every other room in the house filled with servants and buckets of flowers, the floors freshly waxed and polished. You could practically feel Tommy rolling his eyes behind you as Mary pushed open the double doors, holding your pastel pink overnight bag.

“Mrs Grey, I’ve packed all of Mrs Shelby’s things like you asked.”

“You did what?” Tommy said, rising to his feet.

Polly brushed him aside, reaching for the bag in the maid’s hand.“Ah. Thank you Mary, but it’s not Mrs Shelby yet, not till tomorrow. Let her be Miss (Y/L/N) for one last night.”

“Polly?” You asked, “What are you up to?”

She winked at you, her eyes catlike and beautiful, filled with the mischief that always hung around her. “You’re coming with me, love.”

“And you Tom, are coming with me.” Arthur said, pointing a finger at his brother.

“No. Fuck off, both of you.”

Polly put her hands in the air, but you could tell she had been expecting his resistance. “No Thomas. She needs a night as a free woman! Lord knows after tomorrow you’ll be keeping her all to yourself.”

Tommy straightened his back and crossed his arms, never one to back down from a fight, especially with his Aunt. “She’s staying here.”

“It’s tradition!” Arthur interjected, his voice already slurred despite it not even being noon yet.

“Fuck tradition.”

You moved forward, blinking up at your future husband. You knew why he was being so stubborn, the day before your wedding would be the prime time for something to go wrong, or something to happen with you, and keeping you within reach was what he wanted. As much as you loved spending every second with him, you also loved his family, and knew that perhaps a night of drinking and laughing and exhaling, was what you both needed.

He looked at you, his eyes unmoving and stern. You didn’t falter though, mimicking his frown and knitting your eyebrows together, trying to knock down the walls he was so insistent on putting up.

“It might be nice, Tom.” You said. “You deserve to have some fun, and it’ll make seeing each other tomorrow all the more special.”

A moment passed and you felt him falter, the corner of his lips moving ever so slightly.

“Alright. Bloody hell, fine.”

“Good decision brother.” Arthur said,

“We’re not leaving town.” Tommy stated simply, laying down the law.

“We wouldn’t dream of it! Johnny brought his caravan down, all of you men are camping in the woods. Us girls are staying here.”

“Aberama Gold doesn’t happen to be one of these men does he?” You said playfully, nudging Polly with your arm. She rolled her eyes but pulled you closer, her fingers toying with the satin ribbons on your blouse.

“Cmon, love, lets go.”

“Wait.”

You felt Tommy approaching you both, his large hands cupping around your face. You melted into him, his touch so soft and so warm. His eyes were so very blue, cobalt and icy, but they made your stomach infinite. He pulled you into him, smashing his lips against yours, not caring who was watching as he dug his fingers into the roots of your hair, dragging you against his body. Breathless, he pulled away, smiling at the frown on your face from the lack of contact.

“Be safe. Alright? I love you.”

“I love you.”

“Alright you two.” Polly said exasperatedly, but you could hear the happiness in her tone. “Let’s go.”

You let her lead you away, smiling at Arthur as he bounded towards his brother, filling him in on the multitude of activities he had planned for the night.

Every single one of them involved drinking.

As you left, Tommy shot Polly a look, one that told her to keep you near and to keep you safe, and she nodded in response. As soon as you made it into the hall she laughed genuinely, squeezing your shoulder.

“You will definitely fit in with this family, (Y/N).”

“Hm?”

“Yes. You have the Shelby woman’s gift.” She leant down, her lips to your ear. “The power to control a strong man like a puppet.”

———————————————————————

So there you were. Wrapped up in satin and lace, a glass filled with blood red wine, your friends happy and tipsy, swapping stories under the moonlight.

Bea and Violet, two of your closest friends from back in the little village had arrived to be your bridesmaids, their eyes wide and glimmering when they had seen the life you now lived. You watched as they sat with Polly, telling her tales of when you and Michael had been young and stupid - not that much had changed.

Polly had invited all of the girls from work and your friends from in the city, and the laughter bounced off the walls and engulfed you. Ada was enchanting, completely beaming as she sat next to you, telling you every embarrassing thing about her brother she could remember as she downed shots of vodka and cinnamon whisky.

Michael was lounging on the floor with one of Polly’s fine fox scarves draped around his neck. Charlotte was curled up in his side with a cigarette, her hand intertwined with his as she watched him with dopey, loved up eyes. You caught his eye and smiled at him, and he winked in response, joining in with the girls’ as though he was one himself.

You had told him to enjoy the night with the boys, but he refused. You partly suspected that it had something to do with Tommy, and that your fiancé had wanted you to have more protection, but you also knew that Michael wanted to spend tonight with you. Things hadn’t changed per say, but there was no denying that the both of you were getting older, and soon you would be a member of his bloodline rather than just his best friend.

You still had all of your wonderful memories, like running through sunflower fields and swimming in the river until the sun set, but they seemed further away now, almost out of reach. Part of you still clung to the past, the innocence of your youth, all peach skies and daisy chains, but there was no denying that your vision was cloudy, blurry, only focused on the future, and the only man that you wanted to be in it.

Somebody flipped the record over. You listened to the thump and rhythm of the music, smiling at those you loved as they danced around you. You adored everyone in the room, even Lizzie who had arrived already drunk and had glared daggers at you every time you turned around. These were your new family, your new life, and whilst you were elated and excited for it all, you also really needed some fucking air.

Almost on cue, Violet toppled over a champagne flute as she kicked her legs like a cabaret dancer, and you sighed playfully as she covered her mouth with her hands like a small child, her eyes as wide as the moon.

“Oh! Oh! I’m so sorry!”

“Violet, it’s alright! I’ll go and get some cloth, you ladies stay here, try not to break anything else, eh?” You said rising to your feet and darting out of the door, the sound of laughter following you like twinkling diamonds. As soon as you could you ran down the stairs, your feet pattering against the carpet, sneaking out of the back door and into the jet black night.

————————————————————-

The moon was round and full, and you sat cross legged on the grass, your bare feet dipped into the lake that wrapped around the property. It was your favourite place to clear your head, under the weeping willow, listening to the sound of the animals around you, the night air brisk yet comfortable. It was hard to believe that in a few hours you would be married, bound to this brilliant man that had swept you up like a rough wave, capturing you completely.

“Not having second thoughts are we?”

You smiled in the dark. His voice cutting through the night like a knife through butter.

“Tommy.” You breathed, turning around and facing him, the spark of his cigarette as bright as the stars above you both. He grinned at the sight of you, his shirt unbuttoned at the top and his sleeves rolled up, looking like a vision under the moonlight. “What are you doing here?

“I should be asking you the same question.”

“I just needed some air.” You said, curling your toes and inhaling the cool air, you felt his eyes all over you, and you wanted to get as close to him as possible, replace his gaze with his fingertips. You were inches apart and yet you still missed him, and you knew that you would feel this way forever.

“Ah. I take it the ladies are just as boisterous as the men. I only managed to get away after Arthur fell into the bonfire.”

“Bloody hell! Is he alright?”

“Burnt moustache and bruised ego. Nothing he can’t handle.”

You were about to laugh but you stopped suddenly, remembering something important.

“Wait! It’s after midnight!”

“Are you about to turn into a pumpkin?” Tommy asked, amused by your change in tone.

“No! We’re getting married today! You can’t see me!”

“(Y/N).”

“Turn around!” You squealed, pushing him away from you and spinning on your heel.

You heard an exasperated laugh.

“I think we’ve had our fill of bad luck, little one. Turn around, I want to see your face.”

He took you in. No makeup and loose hair and still squeezing all of the air from his lungs.

“We don’t have to do it like this, you know.��

“If this isn’t what you want - all the fucking champagne and caviar. We could leave tonight, get married in a fucking courthouse - just us. Or we could do it in Johnny’s field, get him to marry us right next to his caravan. I don’t care where it is or what we do, I just want - I just need to be with you.”

His words made your gut twist, the sincerity in his voice meaning everything to you, knowing that he would move mountains if it would make you happy, and that you would do the same for him. “I think Polly would murder us.”

“She doesn’t scare me.”

“She should.”

“No. I want this. Yes it’s all a bit... much.” you struggled to find the right word, feeling overwhelmed but ultimately completely spoiled by all of the fuss. “But I think it will be lovely. Your family deserve this. You deserve this.”

Looking at you all sleepy eyed, dressed in silk and satin and lace, your necklace hanging in the sweet dip of your throat, the ring on your finger glinting under the summer twilight, he really wasn’t sure he did.

He pulled you into him, not wanting to be apart from you for any longer. You smelt of home, like violets and green apples and vanilla cupcakes, and he felt like heaven, with his strong body and warm hands and comforting arms. Safe in his presence, you mumbled the words that had been the reason for many of your sleepless nights.

“Do you think she’ll come?”

She being your mother. The woman who had nursed you and bathed you and kissed the scrapes and bruises on your knees when you were a child had all but refused to attend your wedding. You understood why. Your trip to visit Michael in Birmingham was only supposed to be a few days, a week at most, and here you were two years later engaged to a man on the other side of England. You had tried to come home a few times, but the visits were cold and severed, Michaels foster parents filling your mother with poison about the family you had entered.

The phone calls stopped. No more weekly letters from your mother or care packages wrapped in string. You still wrote, but you never got a reply, only a small impersonal card at Christmas and your birthday. Michael understood, and always knew how to comfort you. He had also left the only family he had known and entered the strange underground where you both now lived. He was a boy from the sleepy village who had grown into a man.

It was harder for you, being a woman meant that you were held with certain standards and expectations. But, luckily you had Polly and Ada who taught you that you could be more than just a housewife.

It affected Tommy the most though. If anything was bothering you he knew how to deal without immediately, crushing whatever had made you sad with the heel of his boot, using his power to make everything alright again. He couldn’t do anything about your mother though, couldn’t twist her view of him, not when it was so accurate.

He was bad for you and you were too good for him.

It hurt him though, when late at night you would get that sad, wistful look in your eyes. Or when you would wait for the postman every Monday, the disappointment bleeding from you every time nothing came. He wanted to fix everything, but he didn’t know how. He left the bulk of the comforting words to Ada and Michael, and did his best to show you how much he cared in his own way, with gentle touches and shared looks and those three words that always made him feel better.

Your wedding though, was a different matter. There was no way in hell that you would be anything less than happy if he had something to do with it. His heart broke a little the day that the RSVP came back in the post, a simple “unable to attend.” scrawled at the bottom, as though it was a routine doctors appointment and not her daughters wedding day. Tommy knee he had to fix it when he heard the muffled sound of sobs coming from your bathroom, his heart ripping in two just thinking about the tears staining your beautiful face.

He had a meeting in London but he pushed it back, determined to right the wrongs that lingered around you both. His black matte Bugatti looked incredibly out of place as it trailed down the quiet village lanes, the purr of the engine much louder than the bird songs and running water in the background. It wasn’t hard to picture you in the chocolate box cottage that he parked in front of, smiling ever so faintly at the thought of you running through the grass when you were a child, hanging up laundry in the summer, drinking hot chocolate in the winter.

She opened the door after the first knock, her eyes the size of dinner plates and her mouth agape. Usually, Tommy would be firm and curt and rude, demanding exactly what he wanted and when he expected it to be done, but he knew that he had to be somewhat kind to your mother, even if he currently resented her because of the state you were in.

“I won’t stay long, Mrs (Y/L/N.)” He said, not bothering to step over the threshold, knowing that she’d probably scream if he did. “You might not like it but I’m in love with your daughter. I intend to marry her, and as my wife, I want to make her happy.”

Your mother didn’t interject, merely nodded, and Tommy took that as a sign to continue.

“I know what you think of me and you’re not wrong, but don’t punish your daughter over it. (Y/N) is safe and she is happy, and as her mother that should make you pleased shouldn’t it? Not behaving like a child and treating as if she is a stranger. I want my wife to be happy, so put aside your fucking prejudices and buy a nice hat, alright? For her sake.”

The tension was thick and hot and practically dripping over them, but their eyes met briefly, and something flickered between them.

“I hope to see you at the wedding.” He bit, his tone as sharp as his canines, turning on his heel and heading for the car.

He hummed quietly, listening the sounds of the night. The flicker of the bonfire in the fields behind, the sound of drunken singing and chanting that was louder than a siren.

“I think she will.”

You thought about saying something but held it in, not wanting to ruin the tender moment of him holding you against his chest, the heat of summer nothing compared to the two of you.

He moved you slowly, placing his hands either side of your face, his eyes veiled and moonless.“Go and get some sleep.” He said. “Because you won’t be getting any tonight.”

His voice was low and wolffish, and you felt your entire body setting alight at his words and the darkness in his eyes. His hold on you was so tight it was almost painful, but there was nowhere else that you would rather be. You smiled prettily, already feeling the butterflies coiling in your stomach, leaning up on your tiptoes to kiss him, sweet as strawberry ice cream and fresh honey, the taste lingering on his tongue. You left silently, leaving him grinning dopily, drunk on you and the heat of the evening.

He watched you as you walked away. His eyes never leaving as you stalked back to the house, his gaze lingering long after your shadow grew small, and the front door opened and closed behind you.

————————————————————————

Polly let you sleep in until 8.

You had crashed out after seeing Tommy, Polly had scolded you for leaving and then insisted that you got some beauty sleep, and you practically collapsed into the powder pink pillows on the guest bed.Sleep had come easily, and you grumbled a little when your new in laws had barged in the next morning, pulling back the curtains and letting in the heavy sunlight.

You were ushered into the master bathroom. The claw foot tub had already filled to the brim, rose petals shimmering on the surface, epsom salts dissolving around you. It was warm and inviting, steam billowing around your face as you undressed, and a cup of cinnamon coffee waiting for you on the cabinet by the side, next to an almond croissant from your favourite bakery in London.

You were slightly confused as to how she acquired it, but you knew by now to never question Polly and her methods.

Mary came in not long after, the maid you now thought of as a close friend unable to keep the smile off her face as she helped wash your hair, dragging a soft toothed golden comb over your locks and massaging lavender oil into your scalp. You scrubbed your skin until it shone, washed your body and dragged a razor across any unwanted hair, soothing your skin with thick coconut cream and honey salve.

You could hear everyone on the floors below, the sound of clattering china and rivalling voices coming up through the floorboards. You thought it might make you nervous, but it didn’t, if anything it made you feel more certain. The butterflies in your stomach were a swarm now, and all you could think of was him.

The girls were spread out in the largest guest room. The big windows had been opened, the lace curtains billowing in the warm breeze, and you could see start of the canopy being set up along the great expansive garden, one of yours and Tommy’s favourite places.

Ada squealed when she saw you, even with just a towel around your body and hair, she showered you in compliments.

“You’re glowing!”

“That’s because I’ve scrubbed off ten layers of skin.” You teased, letting her hug you tightly.

The rest of the girls clambered towards you, cigarettes in their fingers and champagne on their tongues. They were a blur of sweet lilac and warm honeysuckle, the colours of their soft chiffon dresses sparkling under the low lights, and you could feel your heart burst at the sight.

“Oh, Pol.” You said quietly, “Everyone looks so beautiful.”

She came towards you, a vision in her golden draped dress. It was covered in glimmering beads and diamonds, and she looked like a starlet on the big screen. She took you in her arms and laughed, “All you need is Auntie Polly to wave her magic wand.” She shook you slightly, running her fingers along the damp skin of your arm. “Come on, you. I think there’s a very impatient man waiting for you.”

Your nails were filed and painted pink, your hair mused and styled by Mary, leaving it long and wavy down your back, the way that both you and Tommy liked it best. You laughed out loud when Bea and Violet showed you their wedding present, a beautiful swan white lingerie set from the dressmakers in the village, complete with high stockings and a frilly lace garter.

“Maybe keep a doctor nearby when he sees you in that tonight.” Bea giggled as you fingered the delicate stitching and fabric.

Not everything was perfect though. One of the caterers dropped a plate of crab cakes and goats cheese bruschetta onto the floor, and one of the mares that was going to lead the carriage to the church had bolted at the unfamiliar hands and raced around the paddock away from the grooms that tried to catch her. Polly had huffed loudly and left with the girls and promises that she would be back with someone’s head, you had nodded, oblivious to everyones anxiety, too dazed at the thought of the day ahead to worry about the little things.

So they left you alone in the big bedroom, staring at your reflection in the golden mirror. It had been a four woman job to get you into the dress. Ada holding you steady by the armpits as Mary and Polly and a unsuspecting servant from downstairs was roped into helping you slide under the fabric, the tulle and lace as heavy as an anvil on you all. Polly had the dress shipped over from Paris after months of searching for the perfect dress, finally ordering one completely hand made and one of a kind, just like you, she had said.

You had never seen Polly cry.

Once, almost, when she had too much brandy at Christmas and she spoke of how much she wished Anna could have been there, the lump in her throat unmistakable as she told you how much she missed her daughter. And now in her nephews bedroom, her smile so wide and her eyes glistening, as she took your face in her hands.

“Thank you for making my boys so happy.”

You could hear her downstairs. The click of her stilettos and the sound of her voice, and once again you were infinitely grateful for whatever cosmic force had brought this wild, brilliant and chaotic family into your life. You turned back to the mirror, running your fingers over the delicate beading on the corset of your dress.

It was without a doubt the most beautiful thing you had ever seen. It was the colour of a fresh blanket of snow, so angelic and pure. There were thin straps at the shoulders, decorated with tiny crystals and jewels. The bodice was cinched and slightly scooped at the neckline, the puckering of your scar showing just above the pristine chiffon.

It had never been something you wanted to hide. It showed that you were alive.

The skirt was wide and full. Layers of expertly fitted tulle and crinoline holding it together, gilding and cascading like a waterfall down your legs and to the floor. There were pearls and thread and diamonds in the shape of flowers stitched right into the fabric, glimmering and twinkling like the stars in the sky when you shifted in the light.

“I’ve left the car running.”

You turned at the noise, smiling when you spotted Michael in the doorway, looking like a million dollars in his rich navy suit and tie.

“Just in case.” He continued.

You rolled your eyes, laughing sarcastically. “Ha. Ha.”

He stepped further into the room, his eyes soft and kind and as wide as dinner plates. The emotion on his face making your heart constrict, his face suddenly so much younger. “Wow.” He breathed. “You look beautiful.”

You blushed, your eyes darting to the floor as he approached you.

“Really, (Y/N). You look... wow.”

“Thanks Mikey.” You said softly, the two of you comfortable in the silence. In that moment nothing else really mattered, you were two kids again, running through waist high grass, sledding down the hills in the winter, splashing each other in the river. So much had changed and yet it would always be the two of you.

He broke the silence first, not one to linger in the past for too long. “This is for you.”

“Oh. Michael. You shouldn’t have! You’ve already done so much.”

“I wanted to.”

He rummaged around in his pockets, finally pulling out a large scarlet velvet box, slowly lifting off the lid. Inside was an exquisite sparkling marquise diamond necklace, intertwined with yellow and rose gold, oval shaped crystals draping and falling from the band like raindrops. Beside it, were two matching earrings, brilliantly cut, so clear that you could see your reflection, the gems woven together like ivy on a cottage. So stunning that you started to tear up.

You gasped, unable to swallow your shock. “Michael! This must have cost a fortune.”

“Nah. I stole it.” He teased, his voice a little shy.

You pulled him in to your arms. He kissed your head, pulling you tightly against him.

“I love you.” He said, his words muffled by your hair. “You deserve this. God, you deserve the world. I am so happy for you.”

You smiled into the fabric of his suit, muffling an “I love you” into the stitched seams. He squeezed you playfully, making you squeal as he hoisted you into the air.

“Careful. If you smudge my makeup there’s a good chance that Polly will shoot you.” You giggled.

“I can handle her.”

“Can you?”

His gaze faltered and you laughed, hitting his shoulder. He spun you around, lifting the necklace from its box and settling it onto your throat, his skilled hands fastening the clasp. You gasped at your reflection, your eyes meeting his in the mirror.

“It looks perfect.”

“I love it Michael.”

He pressed a kiss to your crown, watching as you delicately picked up the earrings and put them on.

“And tell Tommy that if he ever hurts you that I’ll kill him.”

A moment of silence, and then:

“- you’re not going to really tell him that are you?”

You both laughed as he outstretched an arm, looking you up and down proudly, his eyes already a little glossy and big. You thought of how much younger he looked.

“Cmon.” He said, “ I think they’re waiting for you.”

————————————————————

Thomas Shelby never felt apprehensive. He wasn’t familiar with the prickling anxiety that lingered at the bottom of his spine, or the dread that that had settled itself low in his gut, or the way that his palms were growing hotter by the second. He never got nervous. Until now.

Perhaps nervous wasn’t the right word. He had no doubt that you would be walking down the aisle in a few minutes, he knew that you would say “I do.” with as much certainty as him, and he knew that the golden band in Arthur’s jacket pocket would soon be on your finger. But still, the foreboding remained, hanging around his head like a dark cloud.

He didn’t deserve you. He knew that much for sure. He was the devil, his hands stained with blood, his lungs filled with ash, his insides dark and mean. You were an angel, soft and sweet and gentle and warm, the girl that could bring him to his knees.

The church abbey felt big, the summer sun filtering through the stained glass windows, the high ceilings making the room feel vast and empty, despite the crowded benches. He needed you to arrive, to settle the unease inside of him, to light up the room in the way that only you could, feeling every single empty space with your light.

He glanced around the room. Arthur was next to him, nursing a pretty tragic hangover and still a little ashy from his burn, but his smile was bright and he winked at his younger brother. There were plenty of blinders here, working rather than as guests, Tommy was insistent that he wanted as much protection over the day as possible, and even though it was your wedding day, he never would stop protecting you. He wouldn’t put it past his enemies to try something on what should be the happiest day of your lives.

He saw your friends from work. John and Esme and their litter of children. Lizzie and her new boyfriend, hanging off his arm and looking at Tommy with already drunk, hazy eyes. He even smiled as he saw Alfie perched in a middle row, his hat bigger than his head, his beard neatly combed and an array of golden rings on his fingers. Ollie was next to him, watching the room warily, always on guard.

Once Alfie had heard about the engagement he sent over fresh loaves and flowers and then invited himself to the wedding. But he needn’t have, as he had always been on the guest list.

Tommy’s eyes grazed over the person he had been looking for though. Your mother. Sitting in a pew near the front, draped in fine silk and a matching hat, looking entirely out of place but smiling tightly nonetheless. Their eyes met, a single flame of acknowledgement flickering between them. Unspoken but still lingering in the air, that they would both always put you first and that was all that mattered.

“You nervous, Tommy boy?” He heard Arthur say from behind him. He opened his mouth to answer but stopped as he heard noises from outside, the clunk of horse hooves and the rattle of the carriage. He felt his palms sweat and his heart race like he was back in battle, but this time the feeling was so sickly sweet and warm, he felt so fucking happy.

There was so much light when the doors opened. Polly was traditional, and even with all of the immorality in her life, she was adamant that you would both be married in a church. Neither of you protested, Tommy would have said “I do” in front of God himself if it meant you would be his wife. None of it mattered to him.

He remembered the day you came back from seeing the cathedral for the first time. How wide your smile was as you laid curled up in his chest, his lips leaving open mouthed kisses on your neck as you told him all about the ivy covered steeples and wildflowers and beautiful black jackdaws.

You were smitten, and so was he.

There wasn’t much they could do to decorate the church. Back at the house was where the main party was going to be held, but Polly was a genius, and every empty space was filled with tall flickering candles and bouquets of flowers. Everything felt clean and soft and pure, a mixture of old and rustic and fresh and new.

Light. So much light coming in from outside. The day already so sticky warm and wonderful, much like the summer the two of you met and fell in love. Katie came in first, giggling at the eruption of “aww’s” from the pews, everybody watching as she threw small white daisies and coral amber rose petals down the aisle.

Finn followed, looking like an adult in his suit and tie and freshly polished brogues. Then the bridesmaids, coy smiles on their faces, hair curled and polished and smiles that seemed to stretch all the way to the moon. Tommy could feel Arthur’s sly grin from behind him, and knew that he would have a job of distracting his older brother from the beautiful young ladies later on.

The fabric of their dresses swished and swayed under the light, the softness of the skirts and the sharp heel of their stilettos such a wonderful contrast. The ladies whose faces he vaguely recognised moved to your side of the alter, young and impressionable eyes looking around the grand room, obviously astonished and surprised that one of their own was going to be married in such a remarkable chapel.

Ada was next. Polly at her side. His sister and his Aunt commanding the entire room with just the sound of their shoes and the sway of their hips. They looked incredible, such a mixture of power and beauty. Polly’s smile was smug and self assured, but also filled with a certain kindness that was meant just for Tommy. Ada’s eyes were glistening, looking at her brother with adoration and pride, and that playful tease that he knew and loved.

The room was quiet for a moment. The anticipation roaring around like a wasp trapped under a glass, and Tommy could see Curly smiling happily, peering down the aisle as they waited for you to arrive.

For Tommy, his whole life had once been so loud, and then, as if by magic, everything stopped. All of the noise, the blur, the people. They all faded and disappeared. It was like having his head held underwater, the rush of the ocean and the pounding of his blood in his ears deafening him. He felt movement around him, everybody in the pews rising to their feet, the orchestra starting the bridal chorus. His friends and family were smiling so widely, enjoying the ambience and the atmosphere, holding their hands to their chest and wiping their eyes and muttering how beautiful everything was.

He didn’t see any of it. He only saw you.

You had always been the most beautiful woman to him, the kind of woman that made the air leave his lungs and his heart beat a little faster, but oh god, did you look magnificent. In your dress that wrapped and dipped and swayed around your legs like running water, the bodice that cinched you in tightly, exposing the dip of your throat and the curve of your collarbone, just begging him to leave a necklace of bruises next to the diamonds. Your eyes were wide, lined with kohl and blush on your cheeks that reminded him of sun soaked days and strawberry jam and wax stamped envelopes. The curve of your lips, raspberry red gloss that made him think of kissing you until neither of you knew where one of you began and the other ended, his hands in your hair, your legs around his waist.

He felt tears prick behind his eyes. Such a foreign feeling that he almost recoiled. He was so used to being strong and in charge, never letting his emotions bubble up on the surface where somebody might see. But seeing you walk down the aisle, filling the room with love and youth and kindness - knowing that you were going to be his wife, that your days would begin and end with each other, that you would fight and fuck and laugh and cry, tell each other everything, hold him when the shovels got too loud, clean him when he was dripping with another mans blood, be the one you called because no one else would ever compare.

He let his eyes grow glossy as you stepped forward, taking his hand in yours. You were so smooth and soft and small and he was so large and rough and hard, but you fit together like you had been moulded that way, as though there was no where else you two could ever be. So in a room filled with people who respected him and trusted him as a cruel, calculated leader, he let himself be washed away with you,

Because he was in love. And nothing else fucking mattered.

———————————————————————-

Champagne and crystal chandeliers. Cotton candy coloured roses across all of the banister, wide full petals looking like silk under the lights. Pearl necklaces snapped in half and black satin gloves ripped up the seams, pretty fine china filled with bourbon, and laughter that never seemed to cease.

Tommy had tried to keep the party civilised for as long as he could, but the Shelby clan were persistent, and with the amount of booze in the house, they saw it as a challenge to drink it all.

The wedding dinner had gone well. Only the nearest and dearest invited to a seat at the grand table, you and Tommy at the head, his hand possessively on your thigh, your shoulder pressed against his chest. There were more courses than you could count, great big plates and bowls of honey roast ham and glazed partridges and peach trifle and jam soufflé. Your glasses were never empty and yet everyone was well mannered and kind, their voices a little softer than usual, their jokes a little bit cleaner.

You suspected it had something to do with the woman sat next to you, safely nestled in between yourself and Michael, the two people she knew. Your mother had been quiet but mellow at the ceremony, even going as far as hugging you with tears in her eyes as you gathered outside for the photos. There had been tension of course, but it meant the world to you that she was willing to put on a smile for the day.

You had no doubt that Tommy had ordered everyone to be on their best behaviour around her and you could feel yourself chuckle lightly as Arthur gave a very uncharacteristically charming toast to the two of you. The rest of the dinner passed pleasantly, and you could even see your mother start to loosen up as Ada spoke to her about her favourite novels and the current political climate.

After the plates had been cleared away and the guests started arriving for the party, your mother pulled you aside before you got to the living room.

“This might not have been what I wanted for you, (Y/N). You’re my daughter. I only want the best for you.” She murmured, wringing her hands as though she was willing herself to continue. “And it pains me to say it but... Thomas clearly loves you, and I truly feel safe leaving you in his hands. He might not be a good man, but he is good for you.”

Those words were more precious than all of the diamonds and jewels you had stuffed in your dresser upstairs, that your mother accepted the man you loved.

“Oh, Mum.” You sighed, pulling her into you. She was so familiar and warm and you could feel tears prickling behind your eyes. She held onto you tightly, kissing the top of your head and wrapping her arms around you as though you were a baby again.

“I must go and catch my train. But - I’ll call you (Y/N).” She said, and you nodded wildly, your smile so big you thought your cheeks might split.

You walked her to one of the cars, instructing the driver to take her to the station, waving at her as the car got smaller and smaller in your eyes. You felt Tommy approach you, his hand snaking across your waist, and you let him pull you close. He opened his mouth to speak but you cut him off, kissing him ferociously, letting your gratitude show in your touch. He accepted greedily, devouring you on the front steps of your home, his hands in your hair and your lips between his teeth, the sound of the party and music suddenly sounding so far away.

——————————————————-

With your mother gone, the party was in full swing. People were dancing barefoot because their shoes were stained with blood, sharing wide smiles between friends, the rooms smelling of skin and sweat and expensive perfume. You saw pupils blown up to the size of the moon, horse racing and gambling in the paddocks at the back, whoops and laughter vibrating around the house and shaking the paintings.

Tommy had kept you close, not that you ever wanted to stray. It was obvious that despite the genuine fun and admiration for him and all he had accomplished from those walking through his house with slack jaws, he only really wanted to be with you. It worked for the majority of the time, the two of you nestled on one of the ruby velvet chairs in the lounge, letting the crowds of people come and find you and offer their sincere congratulations.

But as always, being Thomas Shelby came with a price, and he often had to leave begrudgingly, with a tense jaw and closed fist, every time someone (Arthur) tore a painting or someone else, (Finn) crashed a car into the allotment and ripped up all of the courgettes.

He always left with a grumble and obvious annoyance swimming in his ocean eyes, planting a firm kiss to your lips and a promise to be back soon every time somebody called for him. He was never one for public displays of affection, he liked to make everyone know you were his but he preferred to keep his tenderness private. Maybe it was how drop dead gorgeous you looked in your gown, a looser, more intricate number you had donned for the evening party. Or maybe it was the rings you shared, the two solid gold circles looking like a sky full of stars under the lights, or maybe it was a mixture of the champagne soaked kisses and pure, uninhibited bliss he felt when he touched you - but whatever it was, you loved it, relishing the attention wholeheartedly.

You weren’t sure where he had got too this time, and somehow you had been wrangled into a conversation with a very tipsy Lord and Lady something or other, both of them fawning over you, their voices high like children. Your saving grace came in the form of a very tall, very stocky baker, his rings cool and comforting on your shoulder as he pulled you away.

“Yes. Yes. That’s very nice right, I’m just going to take (Y/N) away now, yes. Yes. Finish your drinks.” He waved them off as you laughed, “God, these rich fucks can talk for England. Fucking Liberty. Plus, I’ve seen them finish off all of the crab cakes. It’s not on.”

“No. Alfie, it’s not.” You said with a smile, letting him lead you into the parlour, the room almost empty and the faces that you recognised were pleasantly familiar. You grinned as you thought of how well Alfie knew the inside of the manor, something that you were sure to use as ammunition against Tommy any time he tried to tell you that “they weren’t friends.”

That was how he found you almost an hour later. Somehow the rest of the family had migrated into the room, bar Arthur who said he wasn’t drunk enough yet to be in the same room as Alfie. Tommy had been pulled and tugged in every direction, speaking to people he really didn’t give a shit about just to keep the party running smoothly, for your sake. He was on high alert, Johnny had said his boys had seen a figure running through the back paddocks, and just that alone was enough to send him spiralling. It was probably just a stray, strung out guest trying to get home, but it made his blood feel like it was electric.

He made all his men stay on guard, shut down the gambling and horse racing in the garden and made every single person who worked for him stay on red alert. Perhaps he was over reacting but he would never admit that, better to be overly cautious than have something happen to you. After doing laps of the house, checking on the cooks and gritting his teeth through drunken chats with whoever managed to grab him, he finally made his way back to you.

There you were. Face lit up under the candlelight, eyes tired but still sparkling, obviously exhausted but still enjoying the conversation, wanting to keep everyone happy. You looked ethereal. And for a moment he just watched you from the doorway, captivated by the movement of your hands, the bow of your lips, the way that you formed your words, so careful and light.

Alfie noticed him straight away, smiling cheekily as he pulled you into him. “Mrs Shelby.” He said, putting emphasis on both of the words and wrapping an arm around your shoulders. It was crazy how he could rile Tommy up more than anyone without being tipsy or high, somehow knowing how to push all of his buttons. “If you’re ever in London right, come to the bakery. I’ll show you a good time.”

You rolled your eyes at him, instantly knowing his game. You followed his gaze and saw the man you loved, your husband, watching you from the doorway.

“Tommy.”

“Excuse me, gentlemen.” He said firmly, brushing Alfie’s hand off you a little harder than he needed to. “I need to borrow my wife.”

God. Were you ever going to get used to him calling you that?

His hand slipped into yours and you melted, his lips grazing your ear lobe, deep accent rumbling like waves. “Cmon, lets go outside.”

You would have followed him anywhere, to the edge of the world if he had looked at you the way he was now, with those goddamn sky blue eyes and that smug, boyish grin.

Instead he led you through the party, playfully tugging on your hand as you both ran, desperate for nobody to see either of you and try to trap you in another mind numbing discussion. He took you through the servants entrance in the kitchen and into the courtyard, one of your favourite areas of the gardens. It was beautiful sculpted, with its high, emerald green bushes and intricately crafted pots and flower beds. You moved towards the fountain in the middle, surrounded by the rows of lilac and salmon tulips that swayed like ballet dancers in the wind.

He cleared his throat as you watched the water drip and fall and ripple down the stem of the fountain, the night sky reflected across it like a painting. It wasn’t chilly out but still he wrapped his blazer across your shoulders, filling your senses with cinnamon and nicotine and whisky sours.

“I want to read you my vows.” He said.

You turned to face him, confused.

“I know we both said we weren’t writing them, and I haven’t, not really, but there are some things I need to say to you.”

You opened your mouth to speak but closed it, watching him under the moonlight, how beautiful and how strong and how vulnerable he seemed all at once. You could feel your heart beating rapidly, your belly coiling and twisting, somehow he always managed to knock you off balance. He came towards you, close enough you could see the faint scars on his face from fights he had both won and lost, see the brilliance in his eyes and the sadness that always seemed to linger deep down in them, the curve of his lips and the sharpness of his teeth, the way that they had clenched around your heart and never let go.

“I deserve a lot of bad things. I do bad things, and I always thought that everything good would be taken away from me. I wasn’t born into a life like this, I’ve worked hard and given my blood sweat and tears to live like this, to get the things I have now. I’ve spent a lot of nights alone. Fuck, I’ve... felt alone since the moment I got on that train to France, and ever since I’ve been trying to find... something.”

“I thought it was all of this, but maybe it isn’t. I was always searching for the next big thing, the next move on the chessboard, the next city to take over. I didn’t realise how none of it made me happy until I walked into the Garrison the day you came here.”

A pause. A beat of silence.

“Look, I’m not the most articulate man, but God, I’m in love with you. I’ve loved you since the very first moment that I saw you. And - and - ” His voice crackles, fizzles out like a firework. “That day that I almost lost you, that nearly fucking killed me. That was when I realised that you were the thing I was searching for. You’re it for me.”

His hands on yours, pulling you in.

“For the first time in my life I don’t have to pretend to be happy. Whenever I see you, I just am. I can’t promise that I’m not going to fuck it up, but I’m trying, you make me want to try. You want to make me be better. You make me better.”

“I love you, (Y/N).”

He said, pressing his palm to your jawline, looking in your eyes with such sincerity and love that you felt as though you were floating.

“Oh, Tommy.” You breathed into the night, swept up and drowning in him, lost in lust and love and devotion, pressing your lips to his. “I love you.”

[murderousginger]

Poison On My Lips

Peaky Blinders fanfic

Cops & Robbers Part 5

Warnings: Fluff. Steamy kisses. Touch of Angst. Drug use. Nudity. They’re criminals guys, they do bad things.

Note: This is almost exclusively pandering to myself. I blame the hormone flux. Hopefully you all enjoy. 😂

Word Count: 4,099

Tagging: @imagine-that-100​ @bellinitini​ @rae-you-gotta-be-kidding-me​ @theshelbyclan​ @peakascum​ @sweatydragoncloudknight​ @hrhbella​ @annaninae​​

You sat quietly in the dimming light at the foot of Tommy's small bed, looking around at the weathered striped wallpaper and the sparse decorations. You had made sure to sit far enough down so no one could see you unless they entered the room. Your hand grazed the plaid wool blanket on the bed and you took note of the wooden chair beside the nightstand next to the head of the bed to your right. 

You knew he had recently bought Polly her own house, and Ada one in London to raise her son in after Freddy's death, but he hadn't gotten around to himself just yet. Arthur and Finn still lived in the house with him, so it wasn't empty, but it was far less filled than it was before.

It was a nice enough room, but it was easy to see that Tommy barely spent time in it. This was where he went to sleep and nothing much else. He had made sure to make his bed before he left the room, likely a leftover instinct from the military. The wall across from the head of the bed was empty with remnants of the wallpaper that was stripped off, like he had hastily removed it in the night. 

There were no images of women, no books laying about, no photos, nothing to suggest he ever spent time in the room. Just a little nightstand with one drawer. A bottle of whiskey, a glass, a half used candle and an ashtray cluttered the top. You eyed the drawer, noticing that it was barely open. 

Curiosity got the better of you and you leaned over and opened the drawer the rest of the way. Small bags of brown rocks, odd utensils, and a large pipe littered the inside. Now you understood why the candle was there if he didn't spend time awake in his room. 

At that moment, you heard the door downstairs open. You moved back to your spot at the foot of his bed, but left the drawer as it was. You jumped as a loud crash erupted downstairs then sat frozen as you listened for more noise, praying that whoever was searching for you had not ventured to wreck Tommy's house next. 

Footsteps echoed on the creaky stairs and Tommy walked into his room without hesitation. He stopped beside the wooden chair as he noticed your dark form at the edge of his bed and he stilled. The silence was deafening.

"(Y/N)?" Tommy said in a soft voice. 

"S'the only place I could think," you answered hoarsely. 

You looked up at Tommy, the only light dim behind him. You realized that you couldn't see any of his features, but had known him by silhouette alone. 

"My neighbor stopped me," you continued. "Told me men claiming to be coppers were waiting in my home."

"Campbell," Tommy growled before he leaned over and lit a match to light the candle on his nightstand. Soft light illuminated the hard angles of his face as he straightened back up. 

The shadows cast dark bruises along his face that reminded you of a few weeks back when he had returned after claiming to be in London and had held business in Camden Town. 

"A boy came to us yelling about coppers flipping the Peaky girl's home," Tommy said finally, pulling a cigarette from his pocket and lighting it with the candle before sitting next to you in the bed. "We've had everyone looking for you on the streets for hours."

"After killing a man, I went walking," you said lightly, but the words were bricks in your gut. "Decided to do some thinking, so I borrowed your spot."

"John told me," Tommy said gravely, inhaling his cigarette. "I didn't mean that for you, (Y/N). I didn't."

"You wanted proof, King Tommy," you said, steadily growing in hysterics. "Blood on my hands is the best sort."

"They weren't there for the death," Tommy said. "They were there because you're too close to me."

"For the murder," you corrected. 

"For the murder," Tommy said softly. "Your throat. Does it hurt? John said Wilks lifted you up by it. Gave us a scare."

"Pretty sure I'm bruised," you said, numbly reaching for Tommy's cigarette and wrapping your lips around it. 

Tommy watched but did not react. You inhaled and the harsh smoke burned your lungs. You choked, realizing you never took up smoking because you never learned to inhale. You did it again, choking on the smoke but also feeling a bit calmer. He hesitantly reached for his cigarette and brought it back to his own lips to take a long inhale.

"John said he couldn't get a good shot, so you stabbed Wilks in the leg to drop you," Tommy said, a twinge of amusement in his voice as he blew the smoke above your heads.

"Rather that than John take my head off," you said as a small smile creeped onto your face. 

"You and fucking knives," Tommy said playfully and nudged your shoulder. "Where'd you pick that up?"

"Learned a few things from Pol during the war before she sent me out running errands," you said. "Took to knives over guns. Smaller and quieter. Easy in a pinch."

Tommy hummed, finished off his cigarette and snuffed it in the ashtray. He leaned on you a moment. 

"Am I ever going to know that tattoo on your shoulder?" He asked. 

"John hasn't cracked yet?" You laughed. 

"Smug bastard won't stop taunting," Tommy said as he joined you. 

It had been so long since you heard him actually laugh instead of chuckle. It warmed your otherwise numb heart.

"Sounds like John," you said. "You'd think he'd never seen a tattoo before."

"Not on a woman," Tommy said, meeting your gaze. "Not on you."

"Shelby's aren't the only ones that can sneak," you said slyly. 

"None of that answers me," Tommy said. 

You looked down at your hands in your lap and bit your lip. Tommy softly touched the side of your neck, giving you chills. 

"Lights too low to look at the bruises tonight," he said. "Least so in this light."

"Tommy," you whispered. "If we're asking questions tonight, why do you smoke?"

His eyes narrowed at you as his hand rescinded. 

"Been smoking cigarettes most of my life at this point, (Y/N)," he said lightly, but a low currant of warning hid beneath.

"Not cigarettes," you said softly as you leaned over his lap to pick up his pipe from the drawer.

He watched you sharply but did not stop you. You ran your hand along the long pipe, looking down at it as you hovered over his lap and thought of the drugs within his nightstand. 

"Have you ever taken it with someone?" You asked shyly. 

"It's just to sleep," he whispered, shooing you gently from the drawer before closing it. "It helps with the memories."

You reluctantly sat up, the pipe now in your lap.

"What if I were to take it?" You asked quietly. "With you?"

"(Y/N)," Tommy said as he reached for the pipe but you held it away from him. "You don't need it. I won't let John or Arthur take it. It's not good. Why should I give it to you freely?"

"I'm asking you," you said simply. "Is that not enough?"

Tommy looked at you for a long moment, assessing you. 

"I killed a man today, Tommy," your voice cracked. "Can you be soft with me, just this once? Just tonight?" 

He eyed you frozen to his spot as he wetted his lips. He exhaled and ran a hand through his hair, closing his eyes for a beat before looking back to you. His eyes were rounded and his shoulders dipped. He reached for the pipe with an exhale. This time, you let him take it. 

"This doesn't close the door on any of it," Tommy said, although you weren't sure if it was to you or himself. "This won't fix the thoughts. Only runs the shadows off for a night."

You nodded slowly as he leaned back to the drawer and started readying the pipe. You watched his intent expression as he started his ritual. Tommy blocked you out --blocked the world out-- and the only thing important was right there in his lap. 

As he started putting everything away, and the pipe was ready for fire in his lap, he finally looked up at you and hesitated. 

"Just--" he started. "Let me lead. It'll make you relax. You'll have to trust me."

"I've always trusted you, Tommy," you said.

He nodded, picked up the pipe and placed it over the candle and watched intently. He took it off and settled his lips over the opening, inhaling deeply. You watched him hold the smoke for a moment before he leaned his head back and blew it out. 

You watched him visibly soften in front of you. His face slacked as he watched the smoke above him disappear. His shoulders completely rounded as the invisible rod in his back released. He leaned down for another inhale. 

This time, he seemed to remember you were beside him. He held the smoke in his mouth and placed his pointer finger under your chin and guided your face closer to his. Butterflies fluttered in your chest but you let him guide you so close you were nearly touching lips. 

You looked from his lips to his eyes, your lips slacked as his hand circled your jaw and pressed his fingers into the sides of your face until you opened your mouth slightly wider. He exhaled the smoke directly into your mouth and you inhaled his breath instinctually, feeling the smoke enter your lungs and spread a warmth through your body faster than any whiskey ever had. He let your chin go and you closed your eyes.

You understood why people liked it immediately. You felt it go straight through your body and you let it, all of your thoughts and tensed muscles fading into the haze. You floated. You felt Tommy shuffle beside you and heard him inhale one more time before you felt his hand on your neck. You heard the pipe rest on the nightstand with a gentle clang. He pulled you toward him by your neck and you kissed him as he exhaled into your lungs again and you breathed him in. 

His lips were plush against yours and he didn't stop you from kissing him like you thought he would. In fact, he pulled you closer. The smoke creeped out of the corners of your mouths as you turned your body to face him and melted into his touch. His hand stayed on the back of your neck as the other caressed your jaw with his thumb. After a long moment, he pulled back and held you away from following him. 

You opened your eyes, watching the stillness of his face as he opened his eyes to watch you half-lidded. 

"Right," he whispered, wetting his lips. "You should be feeling--"

"Very good, yes," you interrupted, pushing against his hold to kiss him again. 

The feeling of his skin on yours was electric. The haze around you made the contact feel so much more.

"(Y/N)," Tommy said as he half-heartedly tried to hold you back but you pushed again and kissed him. 

You felt Tommy growl into your kiss and you shuddered, hand rising to meet his face. He kissed you back forcefully, and you moaned into his mouth. He immediately ripped you away. Your eyes snapped open to see a very frustrated Tommy.

"(Y/N)," he warned, "A man's only got so much self control."

"You're not a man," you laughed, a smirk on your lips. "They call you the Peaky devil."

"Read somewhere that well fed devils behave better than famished saints," he said as he smirked back at you and released his hold. 

You both watched each other for a long moment until your confidence started to fall. 

"Are you well fed, Tommy?" You whispered, leaning back from him and running a hand through your hair. 

"I'm fucking starving is what I am," he said in a breath and grabbed you around the waist to pull you to him, flipping you onto your back on the bed to press you down into the blankets as he devoured you. 

Your teeth hit his when you collided, but it didn't slow either of you down. His hands immediately began roaming, groping and pulling at you. You squirmed, overwhelmed by the contact as you kissed him in hopes to be completely consumed by him. 

He pulled away and watched you, drinking in what you looked like beneath him, hair disheveled, lips swelled pink, and eyes hazy in the dim candlelight. 

"You could ruin me," Tommy said softly as he tumbled to your side in the small bed. He rubbed his face with a sigh.

"I'm just a foot soldier," you said. 

"Be soft, you said," he whispered as he exhaled a short breath, eyes still covered, "I stopped seeing Lizzie, (Y/N), after the party--"

"Tommy, I--" you interrupted as you turned to him. 

"I know you're closest with John--"

"Tommy--"

"And you ran with him before I told you about Esme--"

"Tommy--"

"And I'm older than you--"

"I'm a virgin, Tommy," you frustratedly spat out before he could stop you. "I didn't sleep with John, because I haven't slept with anyone."

"You didn't--" he started as he dropped his hands and rolled to face you.

"No," you huffed, arms instinctively hugging yourself, "When the war came, the men left. Those that stayed were old, young, or not interested in a Shelby cast off."

"But none of us--"

"There were rumors, Thomas," you said with a sniff, "That was enough."

"Don't call me that," he pleaded. 

He reached for your cheek and you flinched. He hesitated but reached out for you again.

"Tommy sings from your lips," he said, running his thumb over your lips. "Thomas is a curse."

You kissed his thumb before he parted your lips and you grazed your tongue along it. You locked eyes with him and watched his eyes ignite as he looked at you beneath him. 

"Not tonight, love," he whispered. "Not with the opium muddling your thoughts."

"You muddle my thoughts," you shot back with a sigh. "Fine, then better pour the whiskey."

Tommy smiled.

"That, I can do," he said. 

----

Tommy had to go find another candle once the candle on the nightstand burned low. He came back with a couple of them, lighting them all to make a bit more light in the room as you both shared the glass to drink the whiskey. Tommy smoked a bit more opium once the haze faded away as the night went on. He kissed the smoke into your lungs to share his high.

The night felt absolutely invincible. The only people in the world were you two in his room. No cares, no thoughts, only there. Only then.

You both laughed and chatted on the bed, bantering back and forth along the way. You had somehow moved to a position of Tommy sitting on the bed, his back to the headboard, and you between his legs cuddled into his chest. You both were facing his bare wall and he had wrapped his arms around you to whisper something playfully in your ear when you had reached up to cup his face in your hand. 

"Tommy," you giggled, looking at the wall in front of you. "What happened to the wallpaper? It looks like you ripped it down."

Tommy rested his chin on your shoulder as he hummed. 

"I did rip it down," he said as he quieted, staring at the wall closely as he hugged you to him tighter. "Some nights I hear them digging. It was so loud one night I had to be sure."

"Is that why you do it?" You asked. "Why you smoke?"

Tommy hummed in agreement before he kissed your cheek. 

"It doesn't always work," he said softly. "But it's been quiet with you here."

You looked ahead at the wall and tried to imagine what Tommy heard, the digging and clinking noises of metal on rock. The fear. You shuddered.

"None of that now," Tommy whispered into your ear, giving you new chills for an entirely different reason. 

A comfortable silence passed between you. 

"I should make a bed," Tommy said, cutting the quiet. "Downstairs. You'll take this one. I'll get you one of my shirts to sleep in."

"Don't leave me, Tommy," you said, gripping his arm as he nudged you to sit up. "Not tonight."

Tommy sighed as he leaned you back against him. 

"You're bloody stubborn," he mused.

"I'd still like that shirt," you answered playfully. "Maybe you'd glimpse my tattoo in the process. As a reward."

"You'd test the devil himself," Tommy breathed. 

"What do you think I'm doing now?" You teased, leaning forward and glancing over your shoulder at your zipper. 

Tommy raised a brow, his arms unwrapping around you. He reached and slowly unzipped your dress, letting your skin peek through the opening. You slacked your shoulder and the dress fell down your arm, revealing a horse tattoo. Tommy's eyes were enraptured by your shoulder, his fingers shamelessly tracing over it. 

"Now I get it," he breathed before pressing his lips to the horse on your shoulder and closing his eyes. 

He nuzzled your bare shoulder and inhaled your scent before he kissed it again and leaned back. 

"I've one more," you said, "but it's a bit harder to show."

"Worried about modesty now?" Tommy teased, pulling you back into his chest as he buried his face into your hair. 

"You tell me not to test you, and then you beg for testing," you laugh. "Which is it?"

Tommy let you go with a laugh, arms wide away from you. 

"I'll not touch you unless you want it," he said as he watched you sit up and turn around to face him. "How about that?" 

"Show me your tattoos first," you said shyly. "I know you have them."

"I've just the one," he said as his hands dropped and he pulled his shirt off, throwing it in his lap before his hands returned outstretched to his sides. 

You eyed the sun on his chest. You squirmed in your seat with the urge to touch it. You finally gave in, hesitantly reaching out and running your fingers over it. Tommy watched you and smiled. 

"And yours?" He said with a raised eyebrow. 

You looked up through your eyelashes at him and hesitated before you mustered up your courage and dropped the front of your dress and slip. 

Tommy's eyes widened as he saw your breasts, and his eyes narrowed when he realized in between them on your breastbone was a tattoo of a bullet. You both froze for a moment, and you became more self conscious as time passed. You reached for his shirt in front of you, slipping it over your head as you stood off the bed to step out of your dress. 

"I knew this was a bad idea," you muttered as you paced. "I'll go sleep downstairs. I'll --"

"(Y/N)," Tommy said and stood from the bed and grabbed your wrist. "Listen to me." 

"No that was--"

"Why do you have a bullet with your own name on it on your chest?" Tommy said quietly as he pulled you into him. 

"Because no one's allowed to break my heart but me," you said fiercely as you looked into his eyes.

He smiled before he kissed you softly. You immediately melted into him. 

"It's stupid," you whispered as you pulled away, losing steam. "Stupid thoughts of a stupid girl." 

"No," Tommy rumbled. "It's a good reminder. I'm glad I know it. It's fresh."

"Just healed," you laughed mirthlessly before looking down to the floor. Anything to get away from his blue eyes.

Silence. Tommy touched your shoulder before he cupped your cheek. 

"Let's be off to bed, then, yeah?" He said softly. 

"Yeah," you sounded.

----

Finn burst through the door at first light, making you both jump. Tommy held you to his chest as he reached for the nightstand.

"Tommy Tommy we still haven't found (Y/N)--" Finn started before skidding to a halt right in front of the bed. He eyed you clinging to Tommy's bare chest, Tommy's hand around your bare back. At some point in the night, you had overheated and thrown off Tommy's shirt but continued to cuddle with him, enjoying the skin contact. The high and the whiskey had made touch all the more enjoyable in the haze of your mind.

"Fuck off, Finn," Tommy said as he grabbed the ashtray on the nightstand, arm still holding you to his chest. 

"Why've we been searching all night if she's here?" Finn cried. 

"FUCK OFF, FINN," Tommy yelled and threw the ashtray at Finn's head, narrowly missing the teen as he ducked out of the room. 

You heard Finn huff on the stairs. 

"Oy, (Y/N)'s with Tommy upstairs," he yelled, presumably to the other brothers. 

"'Fuck off, Finn.' No one ever fucking respects me," he huffed loudly as he stomped down the stairs. 

Tommy held you in his arms, kissing the top of your head as you both chuckled. You hid your face in his chest and basked in the stillness for a moment. 

"Tommy," you said, raising your head from his chest to look into his eyes, "we should go downstairs to meet them. Tell them the search is over." 

His arm pressed you to him and he caressed your cheek for a moment. 

"I suppose you're right," he sighed softly.

You rolled off of him to let him swing his legs out of bed. You clung the sheets to your breasts as he went to his dresser and grabbed some clothes. 

"Here," Tommy said, throwing you a button up shirt and a pair of britches, "You can wear these home. Better than last night's dress."

You smiled, gathering the clothes and scooting out of bed to put them on. You swam in his clothing, but it smelled of him. You gathered your dress and folded it, holding it in front of you as Tommy touched your face and gave you one last kiss before leading you downstairs. You could feel his walls rebuilding with every step. He would be Thomas Shelby, leader of the Peaky Blinders, by the time he reached the bottom. Your night of being soft was done.

You both stopped at the foot of the stairs to see all three brothers about the kitchen area. Arthur and Finn were sitting at the table, and John looked like he had been pacing. You noticed the table was bare, but things were strewn across the floor. That must have been the noise before Tommy walked upstairs last night.

"(Y/N) was here when I arrived home," Tommy said, looking to each of his brothers. "She was in no condition to be left alone, so I didn't put out the call to stop the search."

"Of course you didn't, Tom," Arthur said through gritted teeth. 

"Looked to be naked when I walked in," Finn mouthed. 

"Finn, shut up," Arthur chastised.

"Is that how it is?" John said, pacing with his head down. 

"You might've seen the horse," Tommy taunted, "but I bet you never saw the other one. Not in that dark water late at night."

John flew at you both. He was across the room in a stride.

"We were looking all night!" John bellowed as he raised his fist and cracked Tommy's jaw, making him fall to the ground.

You immediately dropped to your knees with a shriek to see to Tommy, who looked up at John in shock as his tongue licked blood from his teeth. Your head whipped between the two men. They shared a look that you couldn't decipher. John looked at you broken before he shot Tommy a venomous glare and pointed at him. 

"Again, Tommy?" He said as his voice cracked and he lost steam. "A-fucking-gain?"

John stormed out of the house and slammed the door. Finn raised out of his seat to chase after him, but Arthur pulled him back down. 

"It's not for you to go after him," Arthur said as he looked over to you both pointedly. 

"Let him go," Tommy said, working his jaw. "Let him cool off first."

[speechlessxx]

Crossing Lines. 2 (Andy Barber x Reader, Ransom Drysdale x Reader)

Summary: The line between best friend and lover is so thin... Can you choose which one to cross? 

Warnings: expected ending let’s be honest, angst, fluff, language! (this is the last part... btw)

for fic purposes, Ransom and Andy aren’t twins and their physical similarities will not be mentioned LOL

Word Count: 2.4 k

Read Part 1 Here

The rest of the night was a drunken blur. You vaguely remembered the way Andy held you in the park as you drunkenly cried into his chest. He listened attentively as you ranted and cursed Hugh Ransom Drysdale – whom he assumed was the other man on the porch. Andy put together the pieces and with your slurred confessions, he understood that the best friend of yours held a special place in your heart, but it didn’t deter Andy’s attraction or his growing feelings for you either.

You woke up in your apartment with a dull headache and fifteen missed calls – along with fifty-five messages – from Ransom. And one “have a good day :)” from Andy, but you decided to ignore and ghost both men. You were too confused to even entertain the idea – the possibility of you and Andy, especially when you were still questioning your feelings and the fate of your friendship with Ransom.

Over a week of radio silence from you left Ransom antsy. You had never iced him out like this. The longest you two had gone without speaking was three days – when he stood you up at a university gala so that he could fly out to the Victoria Secret Fashion Show and hook up with a model. You were so angry with him but forgave him all the same when he showed up to your dorm with two pints of ice cream and a smile.

It always so easy to get you to accept his apologies. He thought it was because you two were meant to be in each other’s lives. That your smiles and laughs – and even your playful jabs – were meant to brighten his day, every day for the rest of your lives. And it hurt him when his pleads and apologizes were left on read.

He blamed your absent responses to his dozens of messages and voicemails on that hotshot Assistant District Attorney. He blamed Andy Barber for turning you against him. And his anger towards – what seemed to be his rival – only heightened when both he and Andy Barber pulled up to the front of your apartment complex.

“What are you doing here?” Ransom said, accusingly, as he balanced the cookies and cream pint on top of the mint chocolate chip.

Andy didn’t even respond. Like the night the two were acquainted, he simply ignored Ransom and began to stride towards the complex’s doors. Fumbling with his keys, Ransom quickly locked the Beamer and chased after the suited lawyer.

“Did she invite you?” Ransom prodded. He felt a dull ache in his heart at the thought. Is this what you’ve been doing for the past week? Ignoring him to be around Andy?

Andy huffed, still ignoring the other man, as he pressed your apartment number’s button on the intercom systems. Ransom looked over at the takeout bag in Andy’s hands. Though he couldn’t see the contents, he recognized the logo. It was from your favorite Japanese place – the one you said had the best shrimp tempura rolls. He remembered you tried to get him to go with you, but he blew you off to go to a bar with his rich friends. Did Andy know your order? Did Andy take you there?

Ransom repeated his question and Andy just gave him a side glare as he pressed the button next to your apartment number again.

“No.” Andy finally answered. “I went by her office to see if she wanted lunch, but her co-workers said she’s been sick.”

Relief rushed through Ransom. So, you were ignoring both of them – that’s fine. Ransom smirked to himself. His years of friendship with you gave him the insight to know that whenever you were sick, you preferred hot soup as opposed to sushi – that you’d puke the raw fish right up.

“Hi, sorry, hello?” Your voice statically came over the speakers.

“Hey.” “Hi, (Y/N).” Andy and Ransom said at the same time. Andy shot a glare at Ransom.

“(Y/N),” Ransom said, pushing Andy’s hand away so that he could press the button. “It’s Ransom. I have ice cream and uh…”

“Ransom, I…” you sighed. “I’m sick.”

“I know, but I know all the best remedies.”

“Sorry.” You deadpanned. “I don’t… I don’t think you should be up here.”

Andy lightly shoved Ransom’s hand away from the button, pressing onto it firmly. “Hey, it’s Andy… Lauren and Sabine said you were under the weather, so I brought you lunch from that Japanese place you liked so much.”

“Andy, I…” You frowned as you spoke though neither could see it. Were they there together? “I’m sorry… I’m just so sick… and I tend to throw up sushi when I’m – “

“I actually bought you ramen.” Andy said, hope still in his voice. “I remember you told me you throw up sushi when you get sick, so I thought I’d better order some soup instead.” Ransom’s brows knitted together – when did you have time to tell Andy this? How long have you two known each other?

“Oh…” You facepalmed. The slap was audible and made Ransom crack a smile. “Okay fine… C’mon up, Andy.” That smile quickly dropped.

Andy smirked at Ransom as the doors buzzed and unlocked, but Ransom was not going down without a fight.

-=+=-

Several days later, it was Ransom’s turn to show up at your office, but this time you were there. Your work friends, Sabine and Lauren, were divided about the strange predicament you found yourself in. They were the ones who arranged for you and Andy to meet, but they were also the ones living vicariously through the love triangle you stumbled in.

“What are you doing here?” You groaned as Ransom showed up with two coffees in his hands. He put one cup on your desk and brought his to his lips with a smirk. “Hugh – “

“You’re ignoring my calls and texts, but you sure do love giving Andy Barber attention… Did you know he has a kid?” Ransom poked. “I know you wouldn’t date people with kids. The ex’s still in the picture y’know.”

“Considering how I haven’t dated anyone since college, I’m in no room to judge.” You frowned. “Now, unless you’re in some legal trouble, I suggest you leave.”

Ransom shook his head and pushed you back into your seat when you moved to stand. “He’s also really old…”

“Not much older than you and I.”

Ransom frowned. What did Andy Barber have that he didn’t? Why were you so intent on breaking your own dating rules for him?

“What’s it about him?” Ransom wondered aloud. “Is it his job? Dating an ADA would surely get you out of this joint… Hell, maybe you could even be a trophy wife. Stop working, drive around his Audi. You can probably even be friends with the ex-wife… Laurie, I think that’s her name. Aw, you and Barber would be so cute… Imagine him going to the country club with his pretty, young wife.” He snorted.

“Ransom!” You scolded as you glanced around at those who were listening in the conversation. You were already given flack for being friends with Harlan Thrombey’s grandson. You didn’t need your other co-workers to whisper about your attempts at social climbing by dating Andy Barber. “What is wrong with you! Andy’s a good guy. I’d date him even if he wasn’t a lawyer. Now shut up and leave.”

“No… No!” Ransom argued, lightly slapping your hands away when you tried to push him towards the doors.

“You’re making a scene at my work-place, Ransom,” you aggressively whispered.

“No!” Ransom repeated, his voice rising. Those who weren’t paying attention before were certainly now. “I just wanna know… what’s it about Andrew Stephen Barber that’s got you ignoring me? Huh?” When you didn’t respond, he grew angrier. Why weren’t you answering?! Did your ghosting also apply to real life? “(Y/N), I told you I loved you and you just got in a car with him and left me.”

You bit your lip, furrowing your brows as you glanced around. Those who were trying to discreetly listen abandoned their attempts. They watched on as if they were watching a soap.

“You sleep around.” You muttered. “You parade girl after girl around me as if it didn’t hurt, Ransom. I cancelled my date with Andy, so I could go to your mom’s party. You invited me and ditched me, so that you could go fuck some wannabe model in your grandad’s house. You only came looking for me when you needed a damn condom!” You heard some snickering in the background, but you were too focused on trying not to cry to care.

“I – “

“I’ve been at your beck and call for years. And now, I think…” you stared up at Ransom’s eyes, your own shiny with tears. “I think you only keep me in your life because I’m the only one who gives a damn about you.”

“(Y/N) – “Ransom sighed. “No… I love you, that’s why,” he tried to grab your arm, but you pulled away, shaking your head. “No guy has ever been good enough for you. That’s why I never let them date you!”

“What?” You asked in disbelief. Your tongue darted out to lick your lips as you thought about every date – every guy who came into your life who miraculously disappeared after meeting Ransom. “Son of a – “

“And Andrew Fucking Barber is definitely not good enough for you.”

“And what you are?” You prompted. Your eyes wide and with your shaky tone, Ransom knew you were on the brink of crying. “Ransom,” you shook your head, “I loved you for years. I loved you despite you constantly sleeping with other girls, despite you always ditching me, or despite your family. I loved you even though you can be heartless and insensitive. I loved you so much I put my life on pause to always help you – to always be there for you… But Ransom, I can’t do this anymore… I’m sorry. I can’t…”

“Hey pal,” the security guard finally stepped up just as the tears started to roll down your cheeks. “I think you gotta go.” When Ransom reached out to grab you, the guard quickly stood between you. “Now, Mr. Drysdale.”

Ransom stared at you as you slumped back into your seat. Lauren and Sabine immediately rushed to your side, but you waved them off as you put your head in your hands. You were embarrassed that you caused a scene. You were embarrassed that you confessed your love for Ransom. But it gave you clarity.

The love you had for Ransom was toxic.

And you needed to let it go.

Ransom allowed himself to be dragged out of the office and onto the pavement. The guard told him not to come back. “You leave Miss (Y/L) alone, alright, man?” The guard said. “I know Andy Barber… and when he finds out about this, he ain’t gonna be happy.”

“I’m not scared of Andy fucking Barber.” Ransom rolled his eyes.

“Nah, but he’s got some pull in the DA’s office. He can get a restraining order approved in minutes, pal…” The guard chuckled. “You leave Miss (Y/L) alone.”

Ransom watched as the guard hobbled back into the office, closing the doors behind him. He tried to look through the glass, to get one last glimpse of you. He always wished you’d be the first to confess your love … But he never expected it to be like that.

Now, he couldn’t help but wonder… was this your last conversation? He made you cry and he couldn’t even apologize for that … After this, are you cutting him off completely?

-=+=-

Andy Barber was attentive, observant. He was kind. Growing up with a murderer as a father, he found that his compassion was a way to compensate for his father’s sins. He strived to make a name for himself aside from being Bloody Billy’s son. He was a good man.

A man that put aside his late evening plans to drive from Newton to Boston just to pick you up. A man who put his night on pause just to spend some time with you on a whim of a phone call.

If it had been Ransom, he’d be scolding you as he drove. Blaming you for wasting his time. He’d guilt you and make you feel worse.

But Andy wasn’t Ransom.

Andy made you feel wanted.

“I’m sorry,” you muttered when you slumped into Andy’s couch. “I didn’t know where else to go… Ransom knows where I live and if I see him at my apartment, I think I’m gonna lose my shit and I’ll need a lawyer.”

Andy chuckled as he settled down next to you, handing you a cup of coffee. You smiled and thanked him as you put your head on his shoulder. “I’ll represent you, no worries. I’ll even do it pro bono.”

“I don’t think you’re allowed to,” you laughed. “Circumstantially, they say that lawyers shouldn’t represent their significant – “you bit your lip, cutting yourself off. You’re thinking too far, (Y/N), you scolded yourself.

Andy smirked. “Significant other?” He asked, bringing his cup to his lips, taking a long sip. “Taking strides now, are we?”

“Sorry…” you felt heat rise to your face.

“No, you’re fine,” Andy smiled and pressed a kiss to the top of your head. “We’ll take strides.” He muttered and nodded. “If that’s what you want?”

“Yeah, Andy… I do.” You smiled to yourself as you brought took a sip.

Your nose scrunched up. You had forgotten to tell Andy your meticulous coffee order. Whenever you were at Ransom’s, you didn’t need to tell him – he just knew. Your heart ached at the thought of losing your best friend, the one of the only people who knew you. After years of friendship, you couldn’t just burn that bridge… right?

You pulled your head from Andy’s shoulder and looked over at him. He smiled at you and you couldn’t help but smile back. This growing relationship was fresh. It was new and it felt healthy.  Sure, Andy didn’t know your coffee order, but like Ransom, he could learn it. Maybe he could even memorize it by heart.

You smiled at the thought and leaned into Andy, pressing your lips onto his.

You weren’t sure what fate had in store for you and Ransom – whether that friendship ended forever or will revive itself in due time…

But you were certain about Andy…

You were certain you wanted this new beginning.

[heathsbitch]

Treat You Better ➳ PEAKY BLINDERS

xxix. NEW BEGINNINGS

          Grey surrounded the girl. Everything was the same, every colour was the same, every day was the same. Ivy had lost count of the days she'd been stuck in that  cell. How many days had it been since she was arrested? Since she'd seen her family? Since she'd seen Finn, or Michael? A couple, a few, weeks, months, years? No, it couldn't be that long even though it felt that way. She could feel her mind slowly spiraling out of control. Her thoughts were no longer straight, she didn't eat much of the food that was rarely provided for her. There was only three things keeping her sane in that tiny cell of hers. The thought of seeing Finn again, explaining everything to him, finally being with him properly. The thought of seeing Michael again, safe and unscathed. But she was unsure of whether her relationship would continue down the same path if she did get with Finn. It was a situation she had ample time to think about, yet she just couldn't come to a conclusion. The final thought that kept spurring Ivy on...

Killing Tommy Shelby. Getting revenge for what he'd done to the girl, to Polly, to Arthur, John, and Michael. She would get payback, one way or another.

But for now, she was stuck in that prison cell. Lying on her back, her crystal eyes staring at the ceiling, a song upon her lips.

"Have you no idea that you're in deep? I've dreamt about you nearly every night this week How many secrets can you keep? 'Cause there's this tune I found That makes me think of you somehow and I play it on repeat Until I fall asleep, spillin' drinks on my settee,"

Once again, Finn and Michael played in her mind as she sung to herself. Tears forming in her eyes.

"Crawlin' back to you Ever thought of callin' when You've had a few? 'Cause I always do Maybe I'm too Busy bein' yours To fall for somebody new..."

But her singing was cut short when a Warden burst into her cell. Ivy immediately shot up, she wasn't expecting anyone. This shouldn't be happening. The man grabbed the girl and dragged her out of her cell. "This shouldn't be happening. What's going on?" She shouted at the man, but there was no reply. She was heaved through plain corridor after plain corridor, kicking and screaming at the Warden, trying to break free. But it was of no use. She was too weak. Ivy was led into a final corridor, another woman being led by Wardens was there. "Polly? Polly!" The girl screamed at the woman but she barely acknowledged her, she was too busy muttering words to herself.

Ivy turned her eyes from the woman to the end of the corridor. Nooses, one for Polly, one for Ivy. "No, no, please." The girl pleaded, but she was still dragged to the noose. Her whole body was shaking, her eyes were wide, her heart beat so hard it felt like it was coming out of her chest. As the rope was tightened around her neck, the girl accepted her fate. No one was coming to save her, no one was going to come swooping in with a last minute pardon. Ivy turned to Polly one last time and she saw that the woman had accepted her fate too, a prayer now upon her lips. The girl thought of all the good things in her life, reuniting with her family, forgiving them and them forgiving her, finding love with them again, finding another family in the Shelbys, finding love with Finn, finding Michael and all those times they had spent wrapped up in each other. Despite the bad times, the lowest of lows, there were high points to the girl's life. She just didn't want it to end so soon.

The priest that stood next to the women finished his prayer and the Warden tightened his hand around the lever that would kill Polly Gray and Ivy Solomons. The girl took in a final deep breath and closed her eyes, waiting for the inevitable drop.

But the drop never came. Ivy snapped open her eyes. A saviour at the end of the corridor, a piece of paper in hand. A pardon.

Buzzing filled the girl's eyes, her knees almost buckled underneath her. She had been saved, someone, something had saved her. Hot tears poured from her eyes as the Wardens removed the noose from around her and Polly's neck. Almost as soon as the rope was taken off of her, Polly fell into the girl, sobs racking her body. Slowly, the pair crumpled to the floor together, tears staining each others prison clothes.

Polly and Ivy were free. Surely Arthur, John, and Michael had got the pardon too?

Everyone returned back to their homes as if nothing happened. They had scars on their hearts, yet they didn't bare them for all the world to see. There were noticeable differences in each of them, but none of them were affected as much as Polly. She sat alone in a quiet room all day, only muttering a few words to herself and never eating.

"Do you think she'll be alright without you here?" Ada asked Ivy as the girl packed her suitcase. It had been a few days since they were released and Ada thought it would be best for the girl to get away for a while instead of festering in the house or doing anything rash straight away. She reluctantly agreed to the trip to America. "Hopefully. Besides, she has Michael so she won't be alone." Ivy pulled various garments out of her wardrobe to throw into her case. "Because we all know how reliable Michael is." Ada sarcastically quipped from the girl's bed. "Hey," The girl lightly scolded her by throwing a shirt in her direction. "She is his mother at the end of the day. He won't let her suffer." A couple of moments of silence passed over the pair before a knock sounded at the door.

"Are you decent?" Michael questioned from the other side of the door. "No, I'm completely naked." Ivy said, not meaning it. Mickey entered the room nonetheless, devious thoughts in his head. His eyes widened at the sight of Ada sat on her bed. "Relax, Mickey. She knows." The man cleared his throat before speaking, "I wanted to say goodbye. If we could have the room..." He gestured to Ada. The woman winked at the girl as she left. "I'll be in the car." She said before leaving Ivy's bedroom and closing the door behind her. As soon as he heard the latch on the door, Michael engulfed Ivy in a hug, his lips pressing against hers. They'd felt closer after their ordeal in prison. But they hadn't slept with each other since their escapade in the kitchen before Charles was taken. "Should've spent last night in my room, could've said goodbye properly." He muttered as he peppered kisses along the girl's neck. "I was planning things with Ada. Don't leave any marks." She warned him and he pulled away, following her request. "I'll miss you." Ivy wrapped her arms around his neck as his slid around her waist, "I'll miss you too. But we can still call as much as possible. We both know we don't sleep much anymore so the time difference shouldn't be a problem."

"But I can't fuck you through the phone, can I, princess?" His eyebrow raised as the words left his thick lips. "No, but we have our own hands and imaginations, we'll still be able to hear each other," She whispered in his ear before trailing her own line of kisses down his neck, sucking a mark onto it. A moan left his lips as he closed his eyes. "I should get going, we don't have a lot of time." Michael nodded and they pulled away. "I'll help." He picked up the girl's bags and she followed him down the stairs and to the car. "Goodbye, Pol," No answer. A quick look was passed between Michael and Ivy, he knew what he had to do. A final kiss was planted onto the girl's lips before she got into the car, a few quiet words passed between the two.

"Can we stop at Finn's house, please. I won't be long, I have something to give him." The girl asked Ada, she smiled and nodded. "Be quick." They pulled up to his house and Ivy climbed out of the car. She pulled a letter out of her pocket and posted it through the door. Ivy and Finn hadn't seen each other since before she was arrested. The girl had stalled it. She knew she'd have to explain things with Mickey to the teen and after everything she'd just been through, she wasn't as ready to talk as she was before. So she decided to write the teen a letter instead. It read...

My dearest Finn,

I hope this letter finds you well and in good health. The decision to write to you rather than call you or visit you was not one I made lightly. I settled on a letter as it would be most beneficial for you and our relationship. It's also good practice for your reading skills!

I am aware that we are not in an ideal situation and things are still raw for us both. I hope in future we will be able to communicate with one another better and our relationship will not suffer because of the influence of certain individuals. I promise I will explain my relations with Michael in due course . That conversation is one to be had in person, not over paper or the phone. Please lend me your patience in this matter.

My reason for writing this is simple, I am going away for a while and I wanted to let you know. I'm going to America with Ada. I will return, that I can assure you. However, I am unsure of when that will happen. Yet again, I beg of your patience. I swear on my love for you that I shall make the wait worth your while.

By the time you receive this letter, I will be gone. But hold fast for me, please. I will continue to write to you regularly. I would really appreciate it and love if you would take the time to write back. But, by no means, should you feel obliged to do so. If you do, don't worry about spelling or anything of that sort. It's the intention that matters.

I miss you dearly. Don't do anything silly while I'm gone, keep practicing, stay strong!

My love always, your doll,

Ivy Solomons x

xxx. EXPLORATION*

MASTERLIST

TAG LIST:

@lemur46​ 

[electrictoes]

The Space Between Heartbeats

For @dailysvu’s Sonny Carisi Week

Day 1: Heartbeat Characters: Sonny Carisi, Amanda Rollins, Fin Tutuola, Olivia Benson, Kat Tamin Relationship: Amanda Rollins / Sonny Carisi Warnings: Gun violence 

Read on AO3

i. Fin

Fin was with Carisi when it happened - walking down the courthouse steps after day one of a straightforward trial, nothing out of the ordinary happening; Carisi was looking at his phone, a step behind Fin, “Amanda says she an’ Kat are gonna grab a drink, do you wan-”

Fin heard the shots in the same instant that Carisi cut off mid-sentence, and he turned towards him, ducking down only to find Carisi already on the ground - not because he’d instinctively dropped himself, but because he’d been thrown backwards as a bullet hit him - blood already pooling around him even as Fin tugged his jacket and shirt open, trying to find the entry wound and stem the bleeding, “Carisi, man, you with me?”

“Fin,” he said, his voice already distant and lost, “Amanda-”

“Don’t you dare pass out on me,” Fin said, taking his own jacket off to hold against the bullet wound - more shots were ringing out  and Fin kept his head low, glancing over his shoulder, trying to determine where the shooter was, who was nearby - when this would be over.

When he turned back to Carisi his eyes were closed, his breathing shallow. The pool of blood just didn’t stop growing, Fin’s hands were soaked in it. He pushed down more firmly on his jacket, but Carisi was already too weak to react. Fin reached one hand up to press two fingers against Carisi’s neck, checking his pulse. His heartbeat was fast, much like Fin’s own.

Everything stopped almost as quickly as it had started; the sound of gunfire, of screams, all coming to an end, and Fin looked away from Carisi to see what was happening - there were at least a dozen people still on the ground, whether from injury or fear he couldn’t tell from his position still crouched on the steps. Sirens wailed around them, ambulances pulling in, cops flooding the street outside. He called out for help, “I’ve got an ADA down here!”, one hand keeping pressure on the wound whilst Carisi’s heartbeat continued to accelerate beneath his fingers.

ii. Liv

Olivia had just stepped out of her office when they got the news. Amanda and Kat were both standing behind their desks, and Kat smiled over at Olivia, “We’re going to grab a drink if you want to join us?”

She glanced at her watch, “I’ve probably got time for one before I pick Noah up.”

“Great,” Amanda said, taking a step towards the exit, “Carisi and Fin just got out of court, I told them to meet-”

Amanda was cut off by a shout from the desk sergeant - a shout that travelled across the bullpen, stopping everyone in their tracks and making Olivia’s heart skip a beat. “There’s an active shooter outside the courthouse.”

Her heartbeat started pounding in her chest, in her ears; she glanced over at Kat, at Amanda, who was already halfway to the elevators, and she followed suit, pulling out her phone as she did so and hearing Kat’s footsteps behind her. She dialled Fin - Amanda already calling Carisi, her voice shaking as she murmured, “Come on,” into the phone.

Neither of them picked up, and as they bundled into the elevator Olivia, trying to steady her nerves, focused on her heartbeat, it’s unsteady rhythm doing nothing to calm her, even as Kat tried to be reassuring, “They’re probably helping people,” she said, but there wasn’t any confidence in her tone, and Olivia could see her own fears reflected in Amanda’s face.

It was all over by the time they reached the courthouse, but neither Fin or Carisi were answering their phones, and Olivia felt her heartbeat speeding up as they arrived on the scene - the courthouse steps were splattered with blood, and though the only EMTs on the scene were tending to walking wounded, the evidence of more casualties was scattered around them. Officers were standing over one covered body out in the road, and Olivia cast her eyes about frantically looking for someone familiar, or someone in charge who could tell her what was going on.

“Captain Benson,” a voice said to her right, and she spun on the spot to look at Deputy Chief Sasso, a worn, tired look on his face.

“How bad?” she asked, her heart in her throat. She still couldn’t see Fin or Carisi.

“Four dead, including the shooter. Another eleven hit, five critical.” he shook his head. “Two cops, an ADA and a civilian,” he hesitated before speaking, “You got people inside?”

“Sergeant Tutuola, ADA Carisi,” she said, “The casualties?”

“ADA was female,” is all Sasso said, and Olivia felt a flash of guilt at the relief that comes over her. The relief was short-lived, though - five critical - and still no word on Fin either.

When Sasso turned away, Olviia spotted Fin as he moved away from a uniformed officer a few feet away from them; Carisi wasn’t with him, and Amanda was looking the other way, trying his cell phone yet again. Olivia gave Kat a small nod, before walking over to Fin. The closer she got the more she could see the harrowed look on his face, the blood staining his hands, his arms, his shirt. She checked him over for injuries and he sighed when he caught sight of her. “Liv-”

“Are you okay? Are you hit?”

“No,” Fin shook his head, his gaze going over her shoulder to where Kat and Amanda were still standing, and Olivia knew what was coming next before he spoke, “It’s Carisi’s.”

Amanda’s gasp came from behind her, and Olivia turned to see the blood drained from her face.

“He’s alive,” Fin said, “They took him to Mercy; wouldn’t let me ride with him.”

iii. Kat

Kat couldn’t stand the wait in the hospital - the pacing, the anxiety on Rollins’ face, tears she kept brushing away. The way Benson kept glancing at the doors, waiting for news.

Even when Carisi was out of surgery the waiting was interminable. They let Rollins in to see him only after Benson had a hurried, whispered conversation with the nurse in charge. As for Kat, she sat by Benson’s side - joined by Fin once he’d gotten a change of clothes as assured Phoebe that he was fine. Her mother’s voice lingered in the back of her mind - no news is good news. But was it?

When Fin arrived he filled them in on what he’d learned - the shooter was shot by police on the scene. Tied to another, unrelated case - something in Vice that had absolutely nothing to do with Carisi, or with the ADA who’d been killed, or half a dozen of the other people he’d shot at. Fury and frustration leading to a mass shooting. Another cop dead on the operating table, a civilian who didn’t make it to the hospital, and Carisi - hooked up to machines, pumped full of medication and someone else’s blood.

Rollins emerged from Carisi’s hospital room, hands shaking, after what felt like hours - a glance at the clock on the wall told Kat it had been just over ninety minutes. “No change,” Rollins said. “I need to call his mom,” she chewed on her lip.

“Do you want me to do it?” Benson asked, but Rollins shook her head sharply.

“It should be me.”

Benson nodded. “I’ll come out with you, I need to check on Noah anyway.”

Rollins looked to Fin and Kat, “Can you-” she started, and Kat nodded, glad to have something to do other than stare at the floor and worry that Carisi wouldn’t make it out of this.

She walked into the hospital room, shocked at the sight of Carisi lying on the bed, hooked up to machines, his skin pale with blood loss. She didn’t know what to do next - what was the protocol for sitting vigil at the bedside of a sometimes co-worker who’d been shot twice and barely made it out of surgery alive?

She sank into the empty chair beside the bed, no doubt where Rollins had been sat all this time. Kat couldn’t imagine what this was like for her - it was scary enough for the rest of them, but for Rollins to see the man she loved clinging to life at the whim of one angry kid with a score to settle? It didn’t bear thinking about.

Kat said a silent prayer as she watched his face, unmoving; the steady rise and fall of his chest beneath the hospital blanket. Her ears picked up the sound of one of the monitors - her eyes drawn to the screen. She watched the measure of his heart steadily beating - evidence that he was alive, that he would be back on his feet and driving Kat nuts before long. She clung to that. Focused in on each beep, the rise and fall of the lines on the monitor, the proof that he was still here, still fighting.

ii. Amanda

Amanda was barely keeping it together. She stood a few feet away from Liv - who said she was calling her babysitter to check in, but who was really hovering close enough to be there if Amanda fell apart.

Her hand shook as she pressed the call button on a number she had yet to dial - summer days spent in the Carisis’ backyard, Sonny’s arm slung around her shoulder as the girls ran through the sprinklers, screaming with delight, had led to her saving Mrs Carisi’s number into her phone at her insistence, “Just in case he ever steps out of line,” she’d said with a smile and a wink.

Amanda didn’t know if she’d ever call her, but she had certainly never imagined doing it like this. She hadn’t looked at the litany of missed calls on her phone, but she was sure some of them would be from her. The voice that came onto the phone wasn’t Sonny’s mother - Dominick Carisi Sr answered the call, his voice shaking with fear, “Amanda,” he paused and Amanda couldn’t find any words to interject. “Is he-”

“Alive,” Amanda stuttered out, clinging to the word, the hope. “He’s alive.”

She could feel his relief through the phone. “They said on the news that an ADA… He didn’t answer his phone.”

“Not him,” Amanda sighed into the phone, “He’s-” she choked back a sob and felt Liv’s hand on her back, giving her someone to lean on, “He got hit,” she forced the words out of her mouth, wishing with everything she had that they weren’t true, that this wasn’t really happening, “He lost a lot of blood but- but he’s out of surgery and…”

“Okay,” Dominick Sr said, taking control of the situation in the same way that Sonny always seemed to manage, “You stay right there with him, and we’ll be there as soon as we can,. He’s a fighter,” he finished with, and Amanda wondered whether that was for her benefit or his own.

Once she’d hung up the phone she let Liv lead her back into the hospital and they took the elevator up to where Fin was still waiting on an uncomfortable hospital bench - she stopped before going back into Sonny’s room, a hand to Fin’s shoulder in silence thanks for all he’d done.

Kat stood as soon as Amanda entered the hospital room, vacating the chair and giving her a weak smile, “Still no change,” she said, and Amanda nodded.

“You don’t have to stay.”

“We’ll wait,” Kat said, turning back to look at her on her way out of the door. “His heartbeat’s steady, that’s got to be a good sign, right?”

Amanda nodded, not trusting herself to speak as she sunk down into the chair beside the bed, reaching for Sonny’s hand, her fingers curling around his wrist, the tips pressed to his pulse point, focusing on the steady thrum of his heartbeat beneath her touch. Beat. Beat. Beat. Alive. Fighting.

She counted the beats until she lost track. His pulse stayed even, never speeding up or slowing down, just a constant beat reminding her that he was still here.

[barbasbodaciousbeard]

If You Love Someone, Let Them Go: Part 8

Summary: Since starting with SVU, Sonny hadn’t kept much terribly close to the chest. The squad knew about his family, growing up on Staten Island, the classes at Fordam. What was hidden was why he didn’t date. Sonny Carisi was also separated from his childhood sweetheart, a separation neither ever took to divorce. They had the same haunts. They’d grown up neighbors. Their paths crossed every few months, and divorce talks would turn into reminiscing would turn into a night spent together, sometimes sex sometimes just talking until the early morning. It always ended with one of them waking up alone however. How will that change when the squad finds out?

Pairings: Sonny Carisi x Original Character

1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - 6 - 7

A/N: I really wanted to write Sonny and conflict with his family in Transgender Bridge so this chapter includes transphobia via his mom and then talk about past homo- and transphobia in Sonny. I think Sonny’s acceptance of things is really interesting, especially given he seems like he’s from a traditional/conservative family. 

June  2015

“Hey, doll. Can we wait and do dinner? I know it’s an anniversary dinner, but this was a bad one.” She didn’t like how his voice sounded. He’d been keeping her in the loop, and there’d been a spirited, to say the least, discussion at the Carisi family dinner that Sunday. His mom had fought him regarding Avery, a transgender teenager, over the phone. The case had been everywhere it felt like, and the traditional Carisis felt that Avery wanted attention. Sonny, for his part, was confused, but between Amanda and Victoria’s reminders he didn’t know a single guy who would wear a dress for no reason, he’d come to realize it wasn’t a choice, just like being gay, straight, or bi.

It was hard for him sometimes. Despite the fact Victoria had always been open and accepting, a result of her mother’s influence and LGBT family members, Sonny was raised that all of it was wrong in the eyes of God. That said, as he grew, he saw how much harder it was for Victoria’s aunts. It started to dawn on him that he didn’t choose to want to be in his body or be attracted to women. Why would he assume someone woke up and chose something that didn’t make their lives easier? He also came to believe that God did make them exactly as they were, and human influence had bastardized the love everyone part of His message. When he stood up to his mother, Victoria was pleased to see the growth in him; usually, he’d have let it lie. 

“Of course it can wait. What happened?”

“She died,” he said, voice tight. “The boy that pushed her is being tried as an adult, but Tor, her parents don’t want it. He’s just a kid. He even drew her this comic apologizing. He got scared because she was different.”

She knew what he wasn’t saying. As good as Sonny was, as much as he’d grown, they’d both been easily influenced at one point. When they grew up, it was easy to get swept into easy homophobia and transphobia. Sonny had said things she knew he regretted as he learned more, and they both knew how easy it would’ve been for him to get swept up in the crowd at that age, trying to prove he was tough and manly and straight.

“How about I pick up the pizza ya like? We can stay in? I’ll tell ma I don’t feel good. I don’t think that visit is what you need right now.”

“Thank you.” They said their I love yous, and she quickly scheduled pick up for the pizza and tucked his favorite treats from the cooler into a box. When she got home, she straightened up the apartment and threw his favorite pajamas in the dryer so they’d be warm when he got home. One pizza and beer run later, Sonny came through the door, and he was visibly exhausted. She pressed a kiss to his cheek, taking his coat. 

“You pajamas are in the dryer.” He let out a grateful groan, changing into them before coming back and dropping onto the couch, arms out over the back. She sat beside him, handing him a beer and opting to sit in silence as he nursed it. Her Sonny was a big softy, but she also knew he’d talk about things when he was ready; that was a change she could rely on. He wrapped his arm around her, caging her against his chest as he laid back. His eyes were closed, but his brow was heavy and his mouth set in a frown. Carefully, she smoothed his hair, and he pressed into her hand. 

“Thank you,” he said, his voice barely audible. 

“Any time. Thank you for telling me what you needed.” He nodded, rubbing her back. 

“I saw a pink box.”

“It’s an assortment. I got all your favorites. And the pizzas.”

“I love you so fucking much.”

“I’ll call ma tomorrow to get us out of going there. It’s just you and me all weekend, okay?” 

He nodded gently, cheek pressed against her forehead. This case didn’t sit well, and in this moment he was deeply grateful not to be the ADA for this case. He understood logically where they were coming from, but he was also acutely aware of how little Avery’s parents agreed with trying Darius as an adult. Their daughter believed in forgiveness, and he was a kid. His colleagues liked to pretend they’d always been the cops they are now, but Sonny remembered being sheltered and ignorant. If Victoria hadn’t been there to tear him a new asshole when he was 13 and started using slurs he didn’t fully understand, he could have gotten swept up in this type of accident. Lord knew his mother didn’t think this case was anything but bad luck for the boy. She thought Avery had finally gotten the attention she wanted. That had set him off at dinner, and he swore Mia was proud of him, sitting by Victoria as he defended where this may have been coming from.

Sonny, God made him a him. He doesn’t make mistakes.

Or, ma, maybe all those things you like to call trials? Maybe transitioning and dealing with this kind of ignorance is a part of her trial. No teenage boy would wear a dress if it weren’t real. Avery is a girl, and if you can remember Aunt Rhonda’s new name every year when she gets married again, you can at least call Avery she.

I’m just saying, any of my grandkids pull that, we’ll be taking them somewhere. That’s attention seeking behavior, and needs to be taken care of.

If Victoria and I’s child ever comes out and you are anything but supportive, you will not be a part of their life.

You can’t do that. I’m your mother.

I don’t know ma. Making your own blood feel less than? Sounds like real attention seekin’ behavior to me. Needs to be taken care of.

He let Victoria guide him to the car afterwards, but he hadn’t cancelled the next family dinner. Knowing Avery had died? He couldn’t do it. Meeting her had taken a logical belief that trans people were the gender they identified as and made it more serious. He’d known his mother felt that way, but he’d never heard her articulate it like this. Before the separation and therapy, he’d have bottled up how wrong she was, tucked it away to keep the peace. Now? He couldn’t do it.

“Thank you, Tor. For all of this. And for calling her. I’m still so angry.”

“I know, Dom. I love you.”

“I love you too. And I meant what I told her. If our kid is gay or trans or something else that exists that I’m sure I don’t know about, I don’t care. They’re our baby and I’ll love them and I’ll take them to whatever store to get whatever they need or whatever doctor. I’ll beat the ever living shit out of anyone who makes them feel like they're wrong for how God made them.”

“You’re going to be an amazing father.”

“That should be the bare minimum though, shouldn’t it? Loving your kids no matter what?”

“It should. But that can be hard, you know? Like your mom. She exists in that really conservative vacuum. I’m proud of you for changing when you learn about things, not ignoring it and doubling down.”

“That means a lot, doll. People act like I’m supposed to have been born knowing. Our priest was open minded, and I met you. Otherwise, I may not have turned out like this. And that was scary to realize?”

“Bella, Theresa, and Gina all did it too. You’d all have grown.”

“What if our kid is gay or somethin?”

“We’ll love them. If your mom can’t handle it, we’ll keep them from her.”

“You mean it?”

“Yeah. we’ll get close to my family or something. Or have holidays with Amanda and Liv.”

“Good,” he murmured. “I wouldn’t want to, but I won’t subject them to their grandma actin’ like that. The world is so shitty. I want family to be supportive.”

“I know. We’ll be okay. And who knows? Maybe you snapping makes her reevaluate. I had to yell at you to make you start reevaluating things. We didn’t talk for awhile month. That’s years in thirteen year old time.”

“True,” he chuckled, rubbing her back. “One can only hope. You’d have liked Avery. Into photography and comics.”

“She sounds awful cool.”

“She was. And she was so kind. Like she was hurt, but the last thing she did was forgive him, Tor. Can you imagine? He drew her a comic, and she forgave him. Then she died.” He was facing the ceiling with his eyes closed as he talked. 

“Do you want me to be there?”

“Maybe come by at lunch?”

“I’ll be there, okay?”

“Thank you, Doll.”

“Thank you for sharing how you’re feeling.” 

@cycat4077 @fear-less-write-more

[zodiyack]

I’ll Be There

Requested by @imaginesbymk​: hey! if its alright could you write a Tommy Shelby imagine about him noticing y/n been acting weird lately and when he visits her home he finds out they’ve lost a loved one, so he comforts them? x

Pairing: Thomas Shelby x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Swearing, mention of death, mention of depression, fluff, alcohol, nudity not smut

Note: Title is inspired by The Jackson 5, I’ll Be There. This isn’t a song fic, but I do recommend listening to the song, maybe while reading? if you want! also 1, sorry if this isn’t what you wanted and 2, sorry, i didn’t know how to end it oof

Taglist: @captivatedbycillianmurphy​, @stydia-4-ever​, @matth1w​, @redspaceace​, @simonsbluee​, @jenepleurepasbaby​, @peakysputain​

Masterlist | Peaky Blinders Masterlist

At first, Y/n was muttering to herself, constantly. Things like, “no”, “it’s alright, it’s not real”, and “I’m just imagining it”, things that made the family exchange looks of concern and confusion. One person would raise their eyebrows upon hearing Y/n’s quieted rambling, only to earn mirrored eyebrows and a shrug from the other person.

Next, she was acting...off. She’d find excuses to go home early, or to reschedule dates her and Tommy were supposed to go on. He assumed she wasn’t interested in him any longer, until she confirmed that his assumptions were incorrect, but it was her small tone of annoyance that continued to Tommy after that day. If anyone else asked anything, she’d have actions that’d suggest she just wasn’t in the mood.

Then she began to show up everywhere late, tired, puffy eyed, sometimes she wouldn’t even show up at all. It was beginning to concern Tommy, but he brushed it off, as she pleaded for him, again and again, not to worry, offering to do anything that would make him feel better.

Now, she hadn’t left her house in almost an entire month. He was done “not worrying”. Polly visited her as much as she could, but like when Ada had lost Freddie to the coppers, Y/n refused to even let Pol know she was alive. Ada joined her aunt some times, but both women were unsuccessful in getting Thomas’ lover to do anything.

He himself was in a panic, trying to figure out what on earth could’ve been preventing her from leaving. Was she in danger? Dead? Gone? It was nagging at him. 

Tommy was beginning to do the same; not leaving his office unless he need to, determined to find a way to get the woman he loved back. He often sent his aunt or sister, sometimes even Lizzie, to check on Y/n, but they all came back with the same answer to his hopeful expression. Nothing.

“Listen, Tom, you need to go to her yourself. We’re not the one in love with Y/n/n, nor are we your little messengers.” Polly leaned against Lizzie’s desk, the woman nodding in agreement with Pol.

Thomas hesitated, but closed his eyes and nodded, waking back into his office to prepare. He grabbed Y/n’s favorite treats, which he stashed in a small cupboard in case Y/n ever waited for him at work, and a bottle of gin. The blinder rushed out of his office, leaving Polly and Lizzie with raised eyebrows and slight smiles, amused by how fast Tommy walked out of the building.

He decided against going in the family car, against stopping to do anything in general. His speed-walking turned into a slight jog, then to a faster jog, until he finally gripped the things in his hand as hard as he could and took off, running to Y/n’s home as fast as he could.

To be honest, he was excited to see her after they’d been apart for so long, but there were other things. Like his curiosity to why she’d been hiding in her home for so long, his desire to kiss her roughly and make sure she was okay, so many things were racing around his head. The point was, he just needed to know she was alright.

When he approached her door, slowing to a stop, he reached for the knob, twisting it to find that it was locked. He knocked a couple times, earning no response. Knocked again. Still nothing.

“Y/n? Love? Are you alright? It’s me, T-”

The door swung open to reveal a puffy eyed Y/n, the tip of her nose a shade of reddish-pink to show she’d been blowing it a lot, dried tear stains on her cheeks, her home was dark, though it was the night. 

Tommy let his eyes study his beloved as much as he could in the small amount of light a bonfire, taking place across the street, provided. Her hair was messy, her clothes looked like they’d been the only thing she’d worn during the time she’d been in her home, she looked smaller than before, and she had circles under her eyes.

“Love...”

“Tommy.” Her relived smile began to deteriorate, Y/n falling into Tommy’s arms as tears escaped once more. He caught her the best he could, gin and snacks still in his grip, and walked inside with her, closing the door behind him after setting down the items on the small table by the door.

“What’s wrong, my love?” He asked her as they sat down, Y/n resting her head on his shoulder.

“They... they’re gone...” Tommy furrowed his eyebrows, confused. “Tommy,” she turned to him, watery eyes and a shivering bottom lip, “they died...” Y/n pointed to a newspaper from her hometown, the headline’s big bold black letters guiding Tommy to the realization.

“Shit...” Her little brother died due to a fever spreading throughout the smaller place, only two years old, so pure and innocent, he felt her pain almost immediately. The boy played with Tommy and Finn, enjoying Finn’s company more, but still having a special place in the Shelby’s heart.

Y/n cried harder, moving and shoving her face into Tommy’s chest, wrapping her arms around him. His arms came around to hold her close to him. The paper explained not only her physical and emotional state, but the state of her home, things remained unused, unmoved, as if she’d been in one spot for the entire month, doing nothing but mourning her sibling.

“Come, love, let’s get you out of these clothes.” She didn’t say anything or move, so Tommy helped her up, picking her up like one would his bride, and carried her to her room and set her in the small tub sitting across her bed.

She just sat there, unmoving, expression still empty, heartbroken, grieving. He knew she had to be cleaned one way or another, luckily, he’d help her clean up before, so he knew all of her cleansing preferences. Some might say it wouldn’t matter with her catatonic-like-state, but it did matter. He wanted her to feel better, and he knew just the ways to do so.

He grabbed a cloth, dipping it into the warm water, and scrubbed the soap onto her body, then washed it off using his hands and the small jar she had for that very reason. Once she was properly cleaned off, he moved behind her, bringing his hands to her hair.

Y/n shivered, lip trembling again, the salty droplets slowly sliding down her face again. She wasn’t entirely bawling or crying like she’d been earlier, she was calming and had taken the time of her silence to process everything, slowly coming to another stage of the grieving process.

Acceptance.

And Tommy was the one to thanks, as she moved past the depression stage, finally. He helped her from the tub, helped her dry off, then walked to her wardrobe. He picked a soft nightgown and slipped it over head. It was the gown she said made her feel like she was sleeping on clouds, the gown he bought her the first night she slept in his home.

Finally, he brewed some tea and poured a cup for Y/n and himself. Taking the two glasses into her room, he brought the gin and snacks as well. “Here, darling, you’ll need to eat, as well as drink something. And here’s some stuff that’ll help with the... pain.”

She nodded, reaching for the gin and taking a swig. “Thank you, Tommy. I don’t know what I’d do without you...” Tommy moved the tea towards her, wordlessly telling her not to just drink the gin, and that she’d feel better with the tea as well.

“There’s no need to thank me, Y/n/n. I’m here for you and with you through this.” He shifted on her bed, taking her face into his hands and pressing soft kisses to her hairline, then forehead, then her lips. “I’ll be there for you, whenever you need me, I’ll be there.”

“L-likewise, my love... And um.. Tommy?” He nodded. “Do you promise?”

“I promise. Whenever you need me, just- just call my name, and I’ll be there."