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lunarubra · 3 days ago

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Okay, I am finally back here!

That last scene totally left me hanging! The way you write Tommy and Lucy’s relationship is absolutely mesmerizing; I love how their gentle, private moments balance out their intense, sometimes vicious sides. It’s such a nice touch seeing Tommy’s softer side, like how he can’t even sleep without her by his side. That detail made me go all mushy! It’s so in-character for him to need her presence, even as he tries to keep that protective shield up. He’s worried about her safety 24/7, and it’s such a great way to show how deeply he’s falling. Their co-dependency is real and so beautifully written! <3

And that line where Tommy feels pleasure “shooting through every nerve” as their love fills the room—how are these two still going strong?! xD Their chemistry is so vivid it leaps off the page. I loved Alfie’s appearance too! His nickname for Lucy—"little demon"—and their quick, witty back-and-forth are gold. You’ve created the perfect banter partner for her, and I can’t get enough of their exchanges! They bring a much-needed lightness in between the heavier, suspenseful scenes, which is such a great balance.

And Lizzie... I swear, if Tommy screws things up with Lucy for the Lizzie mess, I am going to maim him! I’m not sure my heart could handle it. I’m already dreading the day she finds out about Lizzie being pregnant. But, I trust Lucy to keep him sane and not take too many stupid decisions.

I really want to try to read the next chapter soon, Laur. Sorry it is taking me so long

Part 21: The Shadow of the Abattoir

Fandom: Peaky Blinders

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x OC

Summary: Tommy and Lucy prepare for the oncoming ambush of Luca and his men.

Word Count: 3,443

Notes: Warnings for depictions of smut (though only briefly).

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Chapter 16: Kestrel

They laid with the bedsheets entangled around them, Lucy’s head on Tommy’s chest while he stroked his fingers daintily through her hair and along the ridges of her spine. His free hand brought the cigarette that he was holding to his lips, drawing the smoke deep into his lungs, letting it go with a long exhale and passing the cigarette to Lucy.

He loved the weight of her in his arms and on his chest, head tucked atop his pecs like it was made to be there, her fingertips tracing delicately over his ribs and occasionally along his tattoos, paying particular attention to the one of her name on his upper left forearm.

It had gotten to the point where he couldn’t sleep properly without holding her. As if she was an oversized teddy bear that he clung to for comfort like a child.

With a contented sigh, he tipped his head back against the pillows, taking in the state of the room. Their clothes were still scattered across the floor, joined by the robes they’d had to hastily don when their food had arrived only moments after they’d finished their second round of fucking. The plates, cleaned but for a few crumbs, were stacked on one of the nightstands, hastily discarded and forgotten after he’d kissed her to taste to remnants of chocolate mousse and strawberry sauce and they’d wound up with him on top of her in the bed, robes tossed away while he lined his cock up and sank into her in one quick, glorious thrust.

“Has Polly said anything more about when Luca’s attack will be?” Lucy asked, passing the cigarette back to him.

“Soon.” They did not have an exact date, yet. “I told Charlie and Johnny Dogs to set aside some guns for us. Mrs. Ross’s old flat is ours, now that she and her family have left town. We can store the guns there until it’s time.”

They’d checked out the area surrounding Mrs. Ross’s flat earlier. It was perfect. Lots of cover and places to hide, a winding network of interconnected halls and alleyways that would make it perfect for them to be able to dodge Luca while he chased after or shot at them. The amount of civilians that could be caught in the crossfire concerned him somewhat, but that couldn’t really be helped anywhere that they went. At least at Mrs. Ross’s, they could mostly just hunker down in their homes until it was over. Luca would be so busy chasing him that he likely wasn’t going to be targeting them anyway.

“When the time comes, I want you to go there early and meet me there. Luca’s more likely to get overconfident if he thinks I’m on my own. You stay out of sight, and see if you can catch him or any of his men by surprise.”

“Okay.”

The protective part of him prickled at putting her in such a direct line of danger. But he knew better than to try to ask her to sit at home while he walked directly into an ambush. Even if he knew that ambush was coming.

Besides, she had handled herself very well regarding the whole thing with Alessio. And he would be there. He could keep her safe. And he could use the backup.

As if reading his thoughts, Lucy stretched up his body to kiss him. “Thank you. For letting me come with you.”

He nodded, swallowing roughly, tracing over the shape of her lips. “Just promise me you’ll be careful.”

“I promise,” she poked his chest. “You too.”

His lips quirked upwards, nodding. She kissed him again, an open mouthed, lazy press of her lips to his, moaning quietly against his mouth as his hands drifted low on her back, until he was groping handfuls of her ass and pulling her closer. Shifting, she straddled him properly, strong thighs spreading across his lap. He kissed her back harder, hands in her hair and on her breasts and guiding her hips to grind down on his already swelling erection. The wetness from her cunt coated his cock, dripping down onto his thighs. He was fully hard within a matter of only a few rolls of her hips against his, cock twitching with the eager hope of being inside her again.

A hope that it did not have to wait long to have fulfilled, as she reached down, taking him in hand and lining him up, sliding down onto him with one expert movement. And then there was nothing more but indescribable pleasure shooting through every nerve of his body, and the sounds of their love echoing throughout the room.

∗ ∗ ∗

“What the hell is that?” she grumbled, wincing at the blaring of a car’s horn just outside, the sound unending, just going on and on. Like the world’s most annoying alarm clock. Tommy cringed, pulling on his cap, grabbing her coat where it was hanging on a hook by the door and passing it to her.

“Alfie, I would imagine.”

Yeah, that seemed about right. “He’s going to wake up the whole bloody neighborhood,” she complained, quickly shrugging on her coat. Outside, the horn kept blaring. “Yeah, yeah, we’re coming,” she mumbled under her breath, pulling her hat on over her curls and following Tommy out the door.

The car was across the street, Alfie standing at the driver’s side, arm shoved through the window to lean on the horn. He didn’t let it go until they were standing directly in front of him. He had two other men with him: a man she was assuming must be his guard and driver, and a hulking boy that towered over all of them. The boxer.

Her eyes shifted to Alfie. Up close, his skin looked terrible, red and peeling in multiple places, giving it an almost scaly appearance. She frowned. Not once had she ever asked after the problems with his skin; it didn’t really feel like it was any of her business. But she was pretty certain he had never had such problems when they were kids in London. And whatever it was, it looked to have gotten a whole hell of a lot worse since the last time they’d seen each other.

“Hello, little demon,” he said to her after greeting Tommy.

“Hey, Alfie.”

Tommy led the way to the gin distillery; he had wanted Alfie to take a look at it and to try the recipe he was still tinkering with while he was in Birmingham. As they walked, Alfie started to ramble in that way he so often did, until he was distracted by the sound of starlings fluttering about near the rafters, to which he decided that the appropriate response was to pull out his gun and take aim at them.

“Ricochet,” Lucy warned, half cowering behind Tommy. “Ricochet, ricochet, ricochet.”

It took Tommy hastily assuring Alfie that he would get a kestrel to get him to lower the weapon he had pointed at the animals up above that had so offended him, and when he turned to face Tommy, his tone was suddenly much more serious as he asked after the situation with the Italians.

“You got a kestrel for them and all?”

“Yes,” Tommy reassured, moving to pour some gin for Alfie to sniff at, since he didn’t drink alcohol. Alfie glanced over at her.

“I heard that you’ve graduated from castration to decapitation as your preferred form of murder, love.”

“Oh, castration is definitely still on the table for any who might deserve it, Alfie. Don’t you worry.”

He chuckled, clapping her on the shoulder as he moved past her to follow Tommy and assess his gin. Lucy jumped up to sit on the table, watching as Alfie pontificated while sniffing at the gin, declaring it not sweet enough for the Americans. Tommy looked mildly dismayed at the criticism, probably because it was the exact opposite of the assessment that May had given them earlier. She nudged him gently with her thigh in solidarity.

“What have you heard, Alfie?” Tommy asked, going to sit down at the table Lucy was propped up on.

“I heard a cop got shot. Who shot him?”

“My kestrel.”

Alfie raised an eyebrow. “Sounds like someone may be after your job, Winters.”

Crossing her arms, she leaned back with a small smirk. “Ah, well, you know, I can’t be everywhere at once.”

Tommy continued to work him for information, first about Luca’s alliance with Sabini, and then about any potential reinforcements. Her brows creased at Alfie’s dismissal of either.

“You really don’t think that they’d use any of Sabini’s men?”

“No. Like I said: they’re Sicilians, they’ll use him for resources, but not men.”

“Not calling in reinforcements seems like an unnecessary risk on their part.”

“Pride, maybe?” Tommy suggested. “Or overconfidence.”

“You’re sure it’s eleven?” Lucy asked.

“Yes, I’m fucking sure!” Alfie snapped, clearly growing agitated at her questioning him.

Eleven made no sense. The math didn’t add up based on how many she, Arthur, and the Golds had already killed. There should not have been that many of them left.

But she decided to back off on questioning Alfie. Perhaps that was all that his information had been able to uncover.

Or perhaps he was not being entirely honest with them.

Alfie’s following comments that Tommy was likely to be dead soon did not help to assuage that feeling. Her fingers twitched against each other, picking at her rings, thinking hard.

Aberama’s arrival helped steer the conversation in a different direction to that of the organization of the boxing match between Bonnie and Alfie’s nephew. Deals were made, payment arrangements drawn up, and then everyone was off on their way.

They headed back to the office after seeing Alfie to his car. As she was walking in behind Tommy, Lizzie swept past them, handing out mail to the girls working the desks. Her shoulder knocked hard and purposefully into Lucy’s as she passed, nearly causing Lucy to stagger, and when her head turned to stare at Lizzie in surprise, she was met with a smug smirk dancing across Lizzie’s lips before she spun her back to Lucy, going to the other end of the office before she could say anything to her.

Lucy sighed dejectedly, shaking her head and moving to follow Tommy the rest of the way into the office, closing the door behind her and taking off her coat to hang up.

“Eleven men left in Luca’s organization here in Birmingham makes no fucking sense,” she said the moment that they were alone.

“I know,” Tommy agreed, pouring glasses of whiskey for them both.

“He has to have more men coming from somewhere. You think it’s Sabini’s boys?”

“No. Alfie was right, the Sicilians will only trust their own. He might use anyone he can find here in Birmingham or who were previously allies of his family for information and even lodgings, but I doubt he’ll trust any of them enough to put a gun in their hands. He probably brought in another set of men from New York or Italy.”

“Right. Do you think Alfie was lying?”

“I don’t know.”

“It wouldn’t be the first time he’s betrayed us,” she sighed, sadly. “But I just don’t really see a reason why he would, this time. It’s like you said: Luca won’t stop after he’s killed all of us. They’re going to want to take everyone in the country.”

“Yeah,” he rubbed at his lips, going to his desk. “But who knows why Alfie does the things that Alfie does. Shit.”

She turned to find Tommy looking down at the diary laid out on the desk, his fingers settled on a specific date, lips pursed.

“What?” Setting down her drink, she went around the desk to peer over his shoulder, spotting the little black star drawn into the blank white space just under the date of Friday, the fifth of February. The day that Luca would move to attack Tommy. “Fuck,” she grumbled. “That’s so soon. She couldn’t have given us more time to prepare?”

“Go to the yard, get the guns I told Charlie and Johnny to set aside, and stash them in Mrs. Ross’s apartment.”

“Right.”

He sighed, wiping at his face tiredly. She wrapped her arms around his waist, pillowing her head between his shoulder blades. “Don’t worry. I’ll protect you.”

He let out a breathless laugh, rubbing at her arms, head craning around to look at her. “Last chance to back out.”

“Not a chance in hell, Shelby.”

∗ ∗ ∗

The car pulled up outside the hospital, Tommy shutting off the engine, though neither of them made a move to get out of the car. Neither of them said anything for a long moment. It felt as if they were each holding their breath, preparing for the oncoming fight. Lucy couldn’t even count how many times she’d checked her revolver to make sure it was loaded properly.

“I’ll set out the guns under a tarp so that you’ll be able to see them when you come up the stairs,” she said, as if they hadn’t already gone over the plan a dozen times that morning and the night before. “And I’ll tell any civilians that I see to go inside and stay there until it’s done.”

“Right.”

The clock was ticking. They both needed to get going. And still neither of them moved.

Lucy looked down at her hands, rubbing at her rings, taking a deep breath.

“Hey,” Tommy’s strong palm was suddenly cupping the back of her neck, turning her head to him. He leaned forward, kissing her softly and allowing their foreheads to rest against each other. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah,” she smoothed her hand down his forearm, breathing in deep the scent of his cologne and the smoke that lingered to his clothes.

“We’re gonna be fine.”

Up and down, her head nodded, breaths drawing in shakily with nerves. But his touch helped calm her. He was right. They had prepared as well as they could for this. Everything would be fine.

Angling her head up, she kissed him again, taking her time with it, the pillow-soft plush of his lips warm as he reciprocated. That large palm rubbed back and forth across the nape of her neck.

“I love you,” she said after they finally parted.

“I love you too.” His thumb moved back and forth across her cheekbone. “You be careful.”

She nodded. “You too.”

They kissed again, and he loosened his grip on her, both moving to get out of the car.

“Do you think Michael will say anything to you about it?” she asked as they headed for the doors of the hospital.

“I don’t know.”

“If he doesn’t…”

“We’ll deal with that later.” His jaw ticked at the thought, and she would have almost felt pity for Michael, had he not likely been about to send Tommy to what he thought was his death.

“Right.”

They came to the big doors of the hospital and paused. This was where she left him. Tommy touched her arm, and she could see the worry creasing between her brows and igniting behind his eyes. He had been doing a wondrous job keeping his overprotectiveness from getting out of hand lately, but she could see him wrestling with it now, battling between his trust in her competence and his need to ensure her safety. Lucy cradled the side of his face in an attempt to comfort him, offering one of her impish smiles with the hope that it would make him feel better.

“Whoever kills fewer Italians today has to buy the winner lunch,” she declared. Tommy’s brows rose, lips twitching.

“Oh, is that right?”

“Mhm. So I hope that you’re prepared to treat me, sergeant major.”

“How do you know that you’re going to win?”

“Because of the two of us, I’m the one that’s more motivated by food.”

That got a real chuckle out of him, bringing his smiling lips to her forehead. “Deal.”

She smiled, nudging him affectionately. “I’ll see you soon.”

He nodded, swallowing hard, hand coming up to cover hers, squeezing, and then finally letting her go. Lucy watched him climb the steps and enter the hospital, waiting until she was out of sight to shove her hands into her pockets, and begin to walk at a brisk pace down the block and around the corner.

And then she broke into a light jog.

Tommy would be in there at the hospital for a good while with Michael; at least half an hour, more if he could stretch it out. But she wanted to have as much time as possible to get everything set up.

When she got to the square where the building housing Mrs. Ross’s former flat was located, she slowed to a quick walk, climbing the stairs hastily and pulling the keys from her pocket. As she passed a few civilians out on the terrace, hanging their washing out to dry or hauling groceries inside, she quietly told them to go into their flats and stay there. Those who recognized her did what she said without question, and those who didn’t only needed to take one look at her cap and red hair to know that they needed to listen to her.

The door to Mrs. Ross’s apartment unlocked with a click. She left it open, going to the kitchen and opening up the cupboards under the sink, beginning to haul the huge machine gun out, setting it down on the kitchen table. Grabbing one of the chairs from around the table, she dragged it to the China cabinet against the wall, climbing the chair so that she could stash the other gun and its ammunition on top of the cabinet. It would be out of the way there for anyone who may decide to wander into the flat between the time she left it and Tommy arrived. She would have to leave it unlocked so he could easily get in if they started shooting at him straight away.

The machine gun she took outside, keeping it wrapped up in the tarp, and put it down on a crate by the railing, just in front of where a set of stairs veered up to the next level of apartments. Raising the gun up, she tested the line of sight the position would offer to the square below, then squatted behind the crate to check the area of cover that it offered.

Good.

She tucked the tarp more securely around the gun, triple checking that all the pieces save for the ammunition–which Tommy already had–were in place. Satisfied, she ducked back into the flat to take one sweeping look around, ensuring that she hadn’t missed anything before departing.

They had talked about having her position herself on the terrace opposite Tommy with a sniper rifle, picking the men off when they turned to fire upon him where he would be up at the machine gun. But Tommy had felt quite strongly that it carried too many risks and left her too exposed. The other terrace didn’t offer as much cover, and they had agreed that it would serve them better to keep her presence on the field a surprise for a little while longer.

The apartments were a labyrinth of tight corridors and terraces. Easy to weave around and lose people in the shadows. Easy to sneak up behind someone and slit their throat without their companions ahead of them even noticing. Especially when they were busy chasing the bait in front of them that was busy blasting them all with machine guns.

Melting into a dark corner, Lucy checked her revolver one last time, fingering at the ammo tucked away in her pockets, then at the set of throwing knives tucked into one side of her belt. On the other side, she had sheathed her massive hunting knife, the blade cool and so sharp, she was half afraid it would cut her through the cloth that she carefully used to clean it. It shined when she held it up to the light, turning it every which way before nodding to herself and placing it back in its home against her hip.

Seated in the shadows, she lit a cigarette and listened, barely even breathing, for the sound of approaching cars. Her heart beat loud in her ears, nerves jumping, hands clammy where they squeezed at the cigarette clutched between her fingers.

Everything was set up and in place.

All that there was left to do was wait.

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#lucy winters x tommy shelby #peaky blinders #lily <3

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