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amethystarachnid · 22 days ago

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OPPOSITES - part I

⤷ JAMES B. “BUCKY” BARNES

ᯓ★ Pairing: James B. “Bucky” Barnes x fem!reader

ᯓ★ Genre: romance, fluff, tiny bit of angst

ᯓ★ Request from: MARVEL multiverse

ᯓ★ Story type: short fanfic

ᯓ★ Part II

ᯓ★ Word count: 6.5k

ᯓ★ Summary: you were raised with strict rules, never once dared to break one of them but the mysterious man you meet at the bar maybe deserves a few rules break.

ᯓ★ TW(s): mentions of alcohol

ᯓ★ AU: 1920s Gangstares

ᯓ★ Request: plz i neeeeeeeed the 1920s one i’ve been binging peaky blinders ( @one-lengthiness36 )

ᯓ★ Since request didn't spicy reader's gender I'll write it as a fem!reader, as I've said in the post

ᯓ★ Comment if you want to be added to the taglist (specify if you want the everything taglist or for a specific character)

ᯓ★ Songs & Superheroes tales - The Game (to make a request, follow the rules on the link!)

ᯓ★ MARVEL Bingo (requests open)

ᯓ★ Masterlist

ᯓ★ If you are a Charles Xavier fan click on this link!

ᯓ★ English isn’t my first language and this isn’t proof read

The Jazz Club pulses with life on a humid Friday night, filled with the muted glint of candle-lit chandeliers and shadows that dance to the lively notes of a trumpet solo. The place is alive, but you feel like you’re not quite part of it, like you’re watching through glass. You smooth the soft folds of your dress—borrowed from your friend Anna, who insists that it’s the only suitable thing to wear in a place like this—and tuck a stray curl behind your ear, feeling more out of place than you ever have. The excitement and energy around you only seem to emphasize your own nerves.

When Anna and Lucy had insisted on bringing you here tonight, the “exclusive bar everyone’s talking about,” you’d hesitated. You’d been raised on rules, boundaries, and curfews. Late nights and smokey speakeasies had never been on the approved list. But the moment you’d stepped in here, breathing in the heady scent of bourbon, old wood, and something vaguely illicit, a part of you couldn’t deny the thrill that’s begun to buzz under your skin. You’re in a different world here, and your friends seem to thrive in it.

The club, “The Silver Swan,” has a reputation, and you’d heard the whispers about its owner: a shadowy figure with connections that aren’t exactly above board. Rumors say he’s dangerous, a man who rose through the ranks with a rough, unbreakable resolve. And yet, something about those stories only makes this place more thrilling, as if the Silver Swan is something of a forbidden fruit.

You catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror behind the bar, looking wide-eyed and uncertain, the fabric of your dress reflecting the dim light in a way that makes you look more like a stranger than yourself. The low, smoky lights give everyone a sort of glamour, making the crowd seem less like people and more like characters from some gripping novel. A soft laugh tumbles from Anna’s lips, and she nudges you, arching an eyebrow.

“See, aren’t you glad you came?” she teases, her voice barely audible over the music. She’s right—you do feel a strange, exhilarating freedom here, your usual reservations fading into the back of your mind.

But then you feel it—eyes on you, unmistakable and intense. A shiver runs down your spine, and you glance around, suddenly alert. Your gaze lands on a man sitting at the edge of the room, half-hidden in the shadows. His eyes are piercing, almost predatory, watching you with a focus that makes you want to look away and stare back all at once.

The man is handsome in a way that’s almost unfair, with dark hair swept back neatly, a sharply cut jaw, and broad shoulders beneath a crisp suit. He’s lounging in a seat like it belongs to him, exuding a confidence that makes your heart stammer. Something about him is familiar, but you really can't seem to remember where you already saw him.

And right now, he’s looking at you like you’re the only person in the room.

You look away quickly, feeling your face flush, but his gaze is unrelenting. It’s like he’s assessing you, taking in every detail. Even from across the room, the heat of his stare is enough to make you feel exposed, vulnerable in a way that has nothing to do with your dress. Your friends are too busy chatting to notice, and part of you wants to tell them, but another part—one you barely recognize—likes the thrill of keeping it to yourself.

Slowly, almost deliberately, Bucky stands up. He moves with a grace that’s startling for a man of his size, all smooth lines and careful steps. The room shifts around him as people notice, some going silent, others nodding in deference. You try to look away, to pretend you haven’t noticed, but it’s impossible not to track his progress. Your heart beats faster with every step he takes in your direction, a drumbeat echoing louder in your ears as he comes closer.

When he finally reaches you, he stops, tilting his head and giving you the kind of smile that should be illegal in a place like this. He has a magnetism that’s undeniable, as if he could pull you in without a word.

“Good evening,” he says, his voice a low rumble that seems to settle over you. The accent’s faint, a New York drawl that somehow makes every word sound like a promise.

You swallow, trying to steady yourself. “Good evening.”

Up close, he’s even more striking. The lines of his face are sharp, softened only by the faintest of smirks that hovers at the corner of his mouth. His eyes, a shade of blue so intense it’s almost unreal, seem to see right through you. But there’s something else in them too, a flicker of curiosity, as if he’s just as intrigued by you as you are by him.

“Bucky Barnes,” he introduces himself, extending a hand. His fingers are gloved, the leather cool and smooth against your palm. “And who might you be, sweetheart?”

The endearment catches you off guard, and you struggle to remember your own name for a second. “Y/N,” you manage, your voice barely above a whisper. “I—um—I don’t usually come to places like this.”

His smile widens slightly, a flash of white teeth that’s as dangerous as it is charming. “That much is obvious,” he says, his gaze dropping briefly to your dress, then back up to meet your eyes. “But I’d say you’re fitting in just fine.”

Your cheeks heat up again, and you find yourself at a loss for words. It’s disconcerting how effortlessly he seems to get under your skin, making you feel as though he knows things about you that you don’t even know yourself. The bar seems to fade away, leaving just the two of you, caught in a bubble of heady tension.

“Can I get you a drink?” he asks, breaking the silence. He gestures to the bartender, who looks over immediately, waiting for Bucky’s order with a kind of nervous deference.

You hesitate, then nod. “Yes, please.”

Without looking away from you, Bucky nods to the bartender. “A glass of champagne for the lady.”

The drink appears almost immediately, and you accept it, your fingers brushing against his gloved hand. The touch is brief, but it sends a jolt through you, making you feel both exhilarated and unnerved. You take a small sip, hoping it’ll calm your nerves, but his presence is overwhelming, making it difficult to think clearly.

“So, Y/N,” he says, leaning a bit closer, his voice a seductive whisper, “what brings you to my little corner of the city?”

His little corner of the city. The way he says it is almost proprietary, as though he truly owns every inch of this place, every beat of the music, every glass of liquor poured.

“My friends,” you say, gesturing vaguely to Anna and Lucy, who are engrossed in conversation with each other. “They… they thought it was time I had a bit of fun.”

He chuckles, a rich, low sound that makes your pulse quicken. “And are you having fun, doll?”

The question catches you off guard, and you meet his gaze again, caught by the intensity of it. The truth is, you are. Despite your nerves, despite the fact that you feel completely out of your element, there’s something exhilarating about being here, talking to him.

“I think so,” you admit, a smile tugging at your lips. “Though I’m not entirely sure what I’m supposed to be doing.”

Bucky’s eyes light up with amusement, and he leans in a bit closer, his voice a low murmur. “Well, sweetheart, maybe I could help you with that.”

The suggestion hangs in the air between you, charged with a promise that sends your heart racing. You’re not entirely sure what he means, but the thrill of it, the idea of letting him show you something unknown, is intoxicating.

“Would you like to dance?” he asks, and his voice is so soft that it almost feels like a secret.

“Yes,” you reply before you can second-guess yourself.

Bucky leads you onto the dance floor, his hand firm and possessive against your back, and you can feel the curious stares of the other patrons as he holds you close. He’s surprisingly graceful, moving with a practiced ease that makes it easy for you to follow his lead. The world seems to melt away, leaving just the two of you, swaying to the rhythm of the music.

The song is slow, sultry, and Bucky’s hands are warm through the thin fabric of your dress, guiding you effortlessly. He keeps his gaze on you, unwavering, as though he’s studying every reaction, every flicker of emotion on your face.

“Tell me something, Y/N,” he murmurs, his lips close to your ear. “Do you always let strangers sweep you off your feet?”

You can feel his breath against your skin, and it sends a shiver down your spine. “No,” you say softly, meeting his gaze. “I don’t… I don’t usually do things like this.”

He smirks, clearly pleased by your admission. “Good,” he says, his voice a low rumble. “Because I’m not interested in being just anyone to you.”

The words leave you breathless, caught in his intensity. There’s something about him that’s both dangerous and magnetic, and you can feel yourself

being pulled in, the thrill of his attention washing over you.

As the music fades, he doesn’t let go, his gaze darkening as he studies you. “Y/N,” he murmurs, his hand tightening slightly on your waist. “I’d like to see you again.”

You’re not sure if it’s the champagne, the music, or the heady warmth of his gaze, but you find yourself nodding, your heart racing as you meet his gaze. “I’d… I’d like that too.”

He smiles, and there’s something possessive in it, a promise of things you can’t even begin to imagine. As he guides you off the dance floor, you can feel the eyes of the crowd on you, but for the first time, you don’t care. You’re captivated, ensnared, and in that moment, you realize that stepping into this bar has changed everything.

Two nights have passed since you met him, and you can’t shake the memory of the man with the dangerous smile and the piercing blue eyes. It feels almost ridiculous how one night could stick with you like this, lingering in your mind like a melody you can’t quite shake. His voice, low and confident, keeps playing back in your head, making you feel things you barely understand.

It’s just that he was… so different from anyone you’ve ever met. Mysterious, maybe a little bit dangerous, though you can’t say exactly why. He was a stranger, yes, but you can’t help but feel there was something there—something that makes you want to know more.

Tonight, you find yourself standing outside The Silver Swan, the same bar where it all began. Your heart thuds in your chest as you glance at the door, nerves warring with the thrill of seeing him again. You’d told yourself that coming back was silly, that you didn’t even know if he’d be here. But in the end, your curiosity had won out over reason, and here you are, alone this time, without your friends to distract you.

Steeling yourself, you step inside. The place feels both familiar and surreal, as though returning to a dream. The low lights, the smoky haze, the soft murmur of laughter—it’s all just as you remember. Except, this time, you feel different, like you’re here for something specific. Or someone.

Your eyes scan the room, searching. At first, you don’t see him, and a pang of disappointment settles in your chest. But then, across the room, there he is, sitting in that same dark corner, half-obscured by shadows. He’s alone, nursing a drink, his gaze resting on the crowd in a way that seems watchful, attentive. He’s so focused that you almost turn around, almost lose your nerve. But he catches your movement, his gaze locking onto you with an intensity that makes your breath hitch.

And just like the first night, he smiles—a lazy, inviting smile that makes your stomach flip.

You take a steadying breath and walk toward him, feeling as though every step is pulling you deeper into something you don’t entirely understand. When you reach him, he stands, his eyes crinkling with amusement as he looks at you.

“Well, well,” he drawls, his voice every bit as smooth as you remember. “Back again, doll?”

You swallow, trying to keep your voice steady. “I… you didn’t tell me your name. I didn’t know where else to look.”

It’s a flimsy excuse, and you know it. The corners of his mouth twitch as if he’s fighting back a laugh, but he’s too much of a gentleman to let it show.

“Didn’t I?” he asks, feigning surprise. “Must have slipped my mind.”

You raise an eyebrow, catching onto the teasing edge in his tone, and he chuckles softly. It’s a warm sound, richer than you remember, and it puts you a little more at ease.

“James Barnes,” he says finally, extending a gloved hand to you. “Though everyone just calls me Bucky.”

Bucky. You repeat the name in your head, testing it out. Somehow, it suits him perfectly.

“Y/N,” you say, letting him take your hand. His grip is warm and firm, and his gaze remains steady, holding yours with an intensity that feels almost intoxicating.

“I remember,” he murmurs, his voice dropping lower. “Been thinking about you since that night.”

The admission catches you off guard, your cheeks heating as you try to keep your composure. There’s no trace of insincerity in his tone, no hint that he’s merely flattering you. And it does something to you, hearing that he remembers, that he’s been thinking about you, too.

“Can I buy you a drink, sweetheart?” he asks, gesturing to the seat beside him. The offer is simple, but his gaze tells you that he’s waiting for something more than just a drink. It’s a silent invitation, one you find yourself unable to resist.

You sit beside him, nodding as he signals the bartender. Within moments, a glass of champagne is set in front of you, the same as last time. The tiny bubbles rise to the surface, and you take a sip, savoring the taste as you try to steady your nerves. Bucky’s eyes never leave you, tracking every move you make with a quiet intensity that sends a thrill through you.

“So,” he says after a moment, his voice soft, “what brings you back here tonight, Y/N?”

There’s a teasing glint in his eye, and you can tell he already knows the answer. But you can’t bring yourself to say it outright. Instead, you glance down at your glass, letting the bubbles fizz against your lips.

“Maybe I was… curious,” you admit finally. “About you.”

The words hang between you, more honest than you’d intended, but his reaction is worth it. His gaze darkens, and he leans in just slightly, his voice lowering to a murmur.

“Is that so?” he asks, a slow smile spreading across his face. “I don’t suppose you know much about me, do you?”

You shake your head, feeling both embarrassed and exhilarated by the question. “No, not really,” you say. “Just that you’re the owner of this place.”

Bucky chuckles, the sound low and amused. “That’s one way to put it,” he says, his eyes glinting with something you can’t quite place. “But there’s a bit more to it than that.”

He leans back in his seat, watching you with a faint, assessing smile. “And you,” he says, “are a little out of place in a place like this, aren’t you?”

It’s not a question, more of an observation, and he’s not wrong. You feel the flush of heat on your cheeks as you give a small nod.

“My friends wanted to show me something… new,” you say, glancing around at the bar. “And I guess I wanted to see more of it.”

“More of me, you mean,” he says smoothly, the teasing lilt back in his voice.

You try to stifle a laugh, knowing he’s right. “Maybe,” you admit.

He seems pleased by your honesty, his smirk softening into something more genuine. The conversation flows more easily now, and you find yourself telling him things you wouldn’t usually share with a stranger—about your strict upbringing, your sheltered life, how your friends are always telling you to try something new, something daring.

“Sounds like you’ve been living under lock and key,” he says, a hint of sympathy in his voice. “Bet you’ve never even snuck out after curfew.”

You laugh softly, shaking your head. “I haven’t, actually. I don’t even know what it feels like to break the rules.”

His eyes glint with something mischievous, and he leans in just a little closer, his voice a murmur. “Would you like to find out?”

The suggestion sends a thrill down your spine, and you glance around, feeling both nervous and exhilarated. “Maybe,” you say, your voice softer than you intend.

Bucky’s gaze holds yours, his expression one of quiet satisfaction. “How about a little tour of the place, then?” he asks, offering his arm. “You don’t get to see the real Silver Swan from the barstool.”

You bite your lip, hesitating for just a moment before you slip your hand through the crook of his arm. His gaze softens, and you can feel the weight of his attention on you as he leads you away from the bar. The patrons barely look up as you pass, and you wonder if they’re used to seeing Bucky escorting guests through the place.

He leads you down a hallway that seems to stretch on forever, passing doors that look as though they lead to secret places—rooms shrouded in mystery and intrigue. Bucky says nothing, letting the quiet settle between you, and you feel yourself growing more curious, more intrigued by him with every step.

When he finally stops, it’s at a private booth at the very back of the club, tucked away from prying eyes. The lights are low, the shadows casting his face in a way that makes him look almost otherworldly.

“This,” he says softly, “is where I like to sit when I want a break from it all.”

You glance around, taking in the plush seating and the faint scent of leather and bourbon that seems to hang in the air. “It’s… nice,” you say, feeling a little out of breath. “Quiet.”

He nods, watching you closely. “Not many people get to see this side of the club,” he says. “Guess you’re special, Y/N.”

The words are simple, but they make your heart skip a beat. You hold his gaze, feeling that pull again, that magnetic attraction that brought you back here tonight.

“Thank you,” you say, almost whispering.

He leans in, his hand resting on the back of the booth behind you. “It’s my pleasure, doll,” he murmurs, his voice a low, intoxicating murmur. “I meant it when I said I wanted to see you again.”

You feel yourself getting lost in his eyes, the promise in his voice making your heart race. And as you sit there, hidden away from the world, you realize that you don’t care about the consequences or what you’ve always been told.

As the two of you settle into the private booth, Bucky leans back, relaxed, his gaze never straying far from you. The low hum of the club fades into the background, and for the first time, you feel as though you can truly open up. There’s something about him—something magnetic, confident, almost disarming. It’s as though his quiet intensity has created a space where you feel safe, unjudged.

“You know,” he says, after a moment of comfortable silence, “you’re different than most people who come through here.”

“Different?” you echo, taking a sip of champagne to cover the sudden rush of nervousness. “How?”

He smiles, his head tilting thoughtfully. “Most people here, they’ve got something to prove. Or something to hide. They’re running from their lives or getting a break from them. But you? You seem like you’re still figuring out what it is you want. Not in a bad way. It’s…” His voice softens as his eyes sweep over you. “It’s refreshing.”

You can’t help but smile, feeling a flicker of warmth at his words. But that warmth quickly fades into something more bittersweet, a feeling that gnaws at the edges of your happiness. You glance down, fiddling with the stem of your glass as you think of your father, of the tight restrictions he’s kept on you for so long, and the rules you’ve never dared question.

“Maybe that’s because I don’t know what I want,” you murmur, barely loud enough for him to hear. “I don’t think I ever learned how to decide that for myself.”

He studies you in silence, letting the confession linger in the space between you. Bucky doesn’t press, doesn’t pry—just waits, watching you with a quiet patience that feels comforting.

“It’s just…” you continue, hesitating, unsure how to explain the life you’ve led, the one so tightly wrapped in rules and boundaries. “My father has always been very… strict. Growing up, I had a list of things I could do, places I was allowed to go. There were rules about what I could wear, who I could talk to.” You give a short, bitter laugh, almost embarrassed to admit it. “My whole life has been about following those rules.”

Bucky’s expression shifts, his jaw tightening slightly. “He must be real protective of you.”

“Protective? Yes,” you say, nodding slowly. “But it’s more than that. He always said he was trying to keep me safe, but…” You trail off, staring into your glass. “It feels like I was more of a possession than a person sometimes. Like I was something he could control.”

Bucky’s hand rests on the back of the booth, his fingers inching closer to yours as he leans forward. “Must have been lonely,” he says quietly, his voice gentle, understanding.

The truth of it hits you in a way you weren’t expecting. You’ve never been allowed to admit that, not even to yourself, but hearing it said aloud feels oddly freeing. “It was,” you confess, barely above a whisper. “I think that’s why I stayed. I didn’t know any other way to live.”

A quiet moment stretches between you, and then Bucky speaks, his tone warm but filled with a fierceness you hadn’t seen before. “You know, there’s more out there than just following someone else’s rules, Y/N. There’s a whole world waiting to be discovered—by you.”

His words make something tighten in your chest, a thrill mingling with fear. It’s tempting to believe him, to imagine a world where you could make your own choices, live by your own rules. But the thought is daunting, and part of you wonders if you’d even know where to begin.

“I don’t know if I’d know how to live like that,” you admit, your voice wavering slightly. “It sounds… wonderful, but it’s not easy. Not when I’ve been told my whole life what’s right and wrong.”

“Right and wrong?” he repeats, an amused smirk quirking at the edge of his lips. “Who’s deciding that, doll? Your father?”

You hesitate, feeling a swell of defensiveness and something else—guilt, maybe. “I mean, he’s only ever tried to protect me. He says that the world’s dangerous, and that if I’m careful, I’ll stay safe.”

Bucky’s gaze darkens, something unspoken flickering in his eyes. “And what’s that gotten you? Safety? Or just limitations?”

The question hangs heavy between you, and for a moment, you don’t have an answer. You think about your life as it’s been: the curfews, the rules, the carefully monitored friendships, the way you’d once looked forward to every day shrinking into a comfortable, predictable routine. And it hits you that you don’t remember the last time you actually felt alive, felt excited about something. Meeting Bucky, coming back here tonight—these things have pulled you out of the haze that’s been your life, made you realize just how small it had become.

“I don’t know,” you say, feeling that truth in your bones. “I just… I’ve never known any other way.”

Bucky’s gaze softens, his hand moving closer until his fingers brush lightly against yours. “Maybe it’s time to change that,” he murmurs, his voice low, almost a whisper. “To start making choices for yourself.”

His words stir something in you, something you’ve ignored for far too long. Maybe it is time. Maybe there’s more for you out there, more than just the safe life your father has laid out for you. The thought is thrilling and terrifying, a leap into the unknown that you’re not sure you’re ready for.

But sitting here, under Bucky’s intense gaze, you feel a flicker of courage.

“What if… what if I don’t know where to start?” you ask, barely realizing you’ve spoken the thought aloud.

Bucky smiles, a quiet, reassuring smile that makes your heart skip a beat. “Then start with something small,” he says. “Just one little choice that’s all your own.”

The suggestion feels manageable, like a tiny, contained spark in the face of a bonfire. You look down at your hand, still so close to his, and a thought occurs to you, simple and impulsive.

“Then I choose to stay here,” you say, your voice soft but certain. “With you.”

Bucky’s eyes flash with something you can’t quite name, and his fingers close gently over yours. He doesn’t say anything, but the look in his eyes tells you more than words could. It feels as though a silent promise has passed between you, a vow to share this moment and maybe more.

“You made a good choice,” he says, voice low and sincere. “You’ll find it’s not so bad, choosing what you want for yourself.”

And as you sit there, wrapped in the warmth of his presence, you realize that for the first time, you feel free. It’s a small thing, yes, but it’s the beginning of something bigger. It’s a spark, a chance to break away from the life you’ve known, to carve out something that belongs only to you.

“Thank you,” you say softly, meeting his gaze. “For… for making me feel like I could do that.”

Bucky’s grip tightens around your hand, his gaze unwavering. “Sweetheart, you don’t need anyone to give you permission to live your life. But I’ll be here to remind you, as often as you need.”

The weight of his words settles over you, grounding you, anchoring you in this moment. And as the evening stretches on, you find yourself leaning into this new feeling—this strange, exhilarating freedom. You don’t know where this will lead, but for the first time, you’re not afraid of the unknown. For the first time, you feel ready to face it.

The hours seem to slip away as you and Bucky talk, wrapped up in a world that feels like it belongs only to the two of you. Conversation flows easily, and each answer you give, every shared look, every quiet laugh feels like a step further into uncharted territory—a life you never imagined could be yours. With each word, each moment, you feel yourself coming undone, shedding pieces of the careful person you’ve been told to be.

You learn more about him, too, though his answers are sometimes elusive, his stories sketched in broad strokes rather than fine detail. He talks about Brooklyn, about the fast changes sweeping through the city, about what it means to take control of your life and make your own choices, no matter the risk. And there’s a gleam in his eye when he speaks of it, a sort of fierce independence that leaves you breathless.

He notices your rapt attention and smiles knowingly, and just as you start to look away, he reaches over, lifting your chin with a gentle hand. “Don’t go hiding now, doll,” he says softly. “You’ve got that look in your eye, like you’re learning a secret.”

Maybe you are. Maybe tonight is a door opening in your mind, a glimpse into a world beyond everything you’ve been raised to believe. You don’t want to look away. Not now.

The night deepens, the lights around you dimming further as the crowd in the bar begins to thin. You’ve lost track of time, and when you look at him again, you realize you’ve also lost track of everything else—the worry, the rules, the constraints of who you’re supposed to be. All that exists now is the weight of his gaze, steady and warm and laced with a depth you can barely fathom.

“Bucky,” you murmur, his name foreign but sweet on your tongue, “you’re right. I don’t want to live like that anymore. I want… more.”

He doesn’t answer right away, but the way he looks at you speaks volumes. The intensity in his eyes softens, a hint of something tender mingling with his usual confidence. You’re close to him now, closer than you’ve ever been to anyone before, and it feels so natural, as though you’re meant to be in this moment, with him.

As if sensing your thoughts, he brushes his hand along your cheek, his thumb tracing a soft line along your skin. “You deserve that,” he whispers, his voice barely audible over the distant hum of music. “You deserve to have everything you want.”

Your heart is racing, but it’s no longer just nerves—it’s excitement, the thrill of something new, something you’ve only read about in books or dreamed of late at night when no one was watching. Bucky’s thumb pauses, just beneath your lips, and you hold your breath, wondering if he can feel the heat rushing to your face, if he knows just how much you want this.

And then, as if time has slowed, he leans in, his lips brushing yours in a featherlight kiss.

It’s softer than you imagined, gentle and tentative, almost as if he’s waiting to make sure you’re alright with this, as though he’s giving you a moment to pull away if you want to. But pulling away is the last thing on your mind. Instead, you close your eyes, letting yourself melt into the kiss, letting him guide you.

It’s your first kiss, and yet it feels like it’s something you’ve waited your whole life for. His lips are warm, and there’s a softness to him that contrasts with his strong grip as he tilts his head, deepening the kiss just slightly. You feel his hand cradle the back of your neck, anchoring you to him, and it’s like everything you’ve known has been turned upside down, as if your world has narrowed to this single point of contact.

When he pulls back, his forehead resting against yours, he doesn’t let go. His eyes search yours, and there’s something vulnerable there, something that makes your heart ache in the best way.

“You okay?” he asks softly, a faint, tender smile playing on his lips.

You nod, your voice barely a whisper. “Yes,” you manage, feeling breathless. “I didn’t know it could feel like this.”

He chuckles softly, brushing a lock of hair from your face. “Then we’ll take our time,” he murmurs. “No need to rush. Just… let yourself feel it.”

You can feel the warmth of his hand against your skin, his thumb brushing slow, soothing circles on the back of your neck. The kiss has stirred something in you, a hunger for more—more of him, more of this feeling of freedom. It’s a feeling you didn’t know existed, a kind of heady joy mixed with an electric thrill, and you find yourself wanting to savor every second of it.

“I’ve never…” you begin, your cheeks warming as you try to find the words. “This is all so new.”

Bucky smiles, his gaze softening further. “I know, sweetheart. But I’ve got all the time in the world.” There’s a promise in his voice, a quiet reassurance that lets you feel safe, cared for. And in this moment, with him, you believe it.

“Thank you,” you whisper, not sure how to put into words everything you’re feeling. “For… for this. For making me feel like I could do something I’ve always been afraid to.”

He rests a hand on your cheek, his thumb grazing your skin as he studies you, as though he’s memorizing every detail of your face. “You don’t ever have to thank me for that,” he says, his voice rough with sincerity. “If anything, thank yourself. You’re the one taking the chance.”

The world outside this quiet, shadowed booth feels a million miles away, and you realize, for the first time, that you’re not thinking of anyone else—not your father, not the rules, not the life you’d been told to live. Here, with Bucky, you’re allowed to simply be.

As the night wears on, you talk in hushed tones, sharing fragments of dreams, whispered promises, and moments of laughter. And when he kisses you again, it’s no longer tentative or restrained, but warm and inviting, a promise of something more. It’s a gentle pull, a quiet invitation to step further into this new life that’s slowly taking shape before you.

And as you close your eyes, feeling his arms wrap around you, you can’t help but think that this—this feeling, this night, this person—might just be the beginning of everything you’ve been waiting for.

The weeks that follow are filled with secret rendezvous, stolen glances, and a flurry of emotions you’ve never experienced before. Bucky becomes your world, a thrilling, hidden part of your life that you keep safe from prying eyes and questions. You meet him on street corners, take long walks in the early morning hours, and share intimate moments in dimly lit corners of his bar. He shows you parts of the city you never knew existed, places tucked away from the polished streets you grew up on. With every touch, every lingering look, you feel yourself slipping further from the quiet girl your family knows and closer to the woman he’s helped you become.

But Bucky’s expression has grown increasingly serious each time he sees you. One night, after a quiet dinner at his place, he turns to you with a look that makes your heart race for all the wrong reasons.

“Sweetheart, we need to talk.” His voice is calm, steady, but there’s something heavier behind it. The warmth that always seems to light up his gaze is dimmer, a flicker of worry casting shadows over his features.

The unease in his voice sends a shiver through you. You reach for his hand, squeezing it gently. “What is it, Bucky?”

He pauses, his jaw tightening before he speaks. “There’s something I haven’t told you.” He meets your gaze, searching your eyes as though bracing himself. “About who I am. About what I do.”

The words make you stop short, your heart pounding as you try to read his face. But there’s no trace of the softness he usually holds for you; instead, he looks almost haunted, caught between protecting you and confessing something you suspect he’s wanted to share for a long time.

“Alright,” you say softly, not letting go of his hand. “Then tell me.”

Taking a breath, Bucky looks away for a moment, as if gathering himself, before he speaks again. “I… I’m not just the guy who owns that bar, Y/N.” His voice drops to a low murmur. “I’m in charge of a group of men—a group that does things your father would never approve of. People see me as… as someone to be feared. I’m the boss of a gang.”

You stare at him, processing each word slowly, feeling the weight of them sink in. The man you’ve fallen in love with—the man who taught you how to live outside the lines, who showed you how to think for yourself—he’s also a feared figure in the world of crime, someone your father would have you believe is dangerous and immoral. But despite the shock of it, you can’t seem to find fear in your heart. Instead, you feel something different, something even stronger.

“And… and you think that changes something?” you ask, barely louder than a whisper.

Bucky’s eyes widen slightly in surprise, as if he’d expected you to pull away or look at him with horror. “Y/N, this isn’t a small thing. It’s dangerous. You shouldn’t be mixed up in a life like mine. I can’t offer you the same kind of safety you’re used to.”

You shake your head, your hand tightening around his. “But I don’t want safety, Bucky. Not the way my father has defined it. You’ve shown me a different life, one that’s real. I can finally breathe with you, be myself. And if that comes with danger, then so be it.”

He looks at you, the disbelief in his gaze melting into something softer, something filled with a kind of raw gratitude. “You’re sure?” he asks, voice thick with an emotion he doesn’t quite name. “Because once you’re in, sweetheart, there’s no easy way out.”

You lean into him, closing the space between you, your hand resting against his cheek as you meet his gaze with unwavering certainty. “Bucky, being with you has taught me more than anything else in my life. I don’t care about what you do, or who you used to be, or what other people say. You showed me how to stand up for myself. That’s what matters to me.”

A mixture of relief and disbelief flashes across his face, and for a moment, he seems almost lost for words. Then, as if unable to hold back any longer, he pulls you into his arms, his embrace fierce, filled with a desperate kind of gratitude. You can feel his heart pounding against your own, and the depth of his feeling, the strength of his emotion, overwhelms you.

When he finally pulls back, his hands stay on your shoulders, as though to anchor himself to you, his gaze piercing as it holds yours. “I don’t deserve you,” he says, a quiet, honest confession.

You smile, touching a hand to his cheek. “Maybe you do.”

For the first time, he lets out a quiet laugh, a genuine smile breaking through the intensity of his expression. And then, slowly, he leans down, his lips finding yours in a kiss that’s deeper, more intense than any you’ve shared before. This kiss is filled with relief, with unspoken promises and the kind of love that goes beyond the superficial, the kind of love that’s forged in fire.

When he pulls back, he rests his forehead against yours, his voice barely a whisper. “I’ll protect you with everything I have. I promise.”

You nod, understanding the weight of his words. But you also know that you don’t need protecting, not the way you once thought. Because being with him has shown you that you’re stronger than you ever knew.

And as you sit together in the quiet of the night, Bucky holding you close, you know that this life, complicated and messy as it is, is exactly where you’re meant to be.

maybe a part 2 where y/n's family discovers their relationship? If you liked the story don't forget to like, reblog and drop a follow if you want to read more. <3

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megalony · 1 year ago

Text

Just Her

This is my first Thomas Shelby (Peaky Blinders) imagine, I hope everyone will enjoy it. Feedback, comments and requests are always amazing.

Taglist: @lunaticspoem @butlegendsneverdie @langdonzvoid @jennyggggrrr @rogmeddows @radiob-l-a-hblah @rogertaylorsbitontheside @chlobo6 @rogertaylors-lipgloss @sj-thefan @omgitsearly @luckytrashgooprebel @scarsout @deaky-with-a-c @killer-queen-ofrhye @bluutac @vousmemanqueez-blog @jonesyaddiction @milanosaurus @httpfandxms @saint-hardy @7-seas-of-fat-bottomed-girls @mrsalwayswritex @rogerina-owns-me @hellsdragon @im-an-adult-ish @crazylittlethingg @allauraleigh @onceuponadetectivedemigod @ceres27 @avyannadawn @noonenuts @sleepylunarwolf @coverupps @anonyymoouussssss

Masterlist

Summary: When attending a charity event, (Y/n) suddenly takes a turn for the worst and Tommy has to take care of his wife.

Enjoy.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The soft, lulling music hit (Y/n) as soon as they walked through the doors, blended with the voices of others arriving and mingling together.

Charity events weren't the kind of thing (Y/n) enjoyed. There were too many people keeping up false pretences, fake smiles and chatter that could melt anyone's ears off. And the Blinders didn't have the best track record because wherever they went, bad things happened.

With Tommy's arm secured around her waist and her body tucked safely into his side, (Y/n) could feel the gun strapped into his holster at the side of his chest. A safety measure he never went anywhere without and it was something (Y/n) now found strangely comforting, just like the smell of his cigarettes and the sound of his voice whispering in her ear.

"Shall we get a drink?" (Y/n) leaned her head on Tommy's shoulder as Arthur and John walked past them and dispersed into the large hall, mingling and searching for Ada and Polly who were already here somewhere.

"Sure."

It felt strange to (Y/n) to see Tommy wearing a smart suit like this, it wasn't the kind he would normally wear when he walked the streets or sat in the office keeping books. It wasn't grey or tweed material and he didn't have a tie or a cap sitting on his head.

His hair was slicked to the side, unruffled by a hat he had left at home, his jet black trousers were up past his hips over the white button up shirt and he had a black blazer snug over his biceps. The look would have been perfected if Tommy bothered to wear a bow tie or even his usual tie but he didn't bother tonight. His look was a mix of smart and casual and it only made him more appealing to (Y/n).

With a drink in hand, (Y/n) took a large gulp before she glanced around the room. She could see Ada far across the other side, chatting to a gentleman in a snappy suit and Arthur had wandered off near the buffet, cigarette clasped in his lips.

(Y/n) wanted to keep an eye on the rest of the Shelby clan because she knew Tommy would wander off to talk to business associates soon and she never accompanied him to those chats. Tommy liked to keep his wife as far away from the business as possible, he would introduce her and show her off but when talk started on the darker side of his work, (Y/n) excused herself. So she wouldn't be alone, uneasy and anxious, (Y/n) would stick with other members of the family until Tommy came back to find her.

"We won't stay long," As if he could read her mind, Tommy whispered the words into the top of her hair and squeezed the hand that was wrapped around her hip. "Are you okay if I go speak to someone?"

"Yeah, I'll go speak to Ada for a bit." She suddenly felt lonely when Tommy's body left her side leaving her cold and insecure without him beside her.

When Tommy drifted, (Y/n) finished the drink in her glass and slowly walked between the tables, over to where Ada was now standing next to Polly.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

(Y/n) could feel her foot beginning to tap against the polished floor the longer she stood away from Tommy, waiting for him to come back again. It wasn't the same kind of unease that she felt whenever he was out of town or when he didn't come home until the early hours of the morning. That was a sense of panic that came with the thoughts and insatiable panic that something had happened to her husband.

The unease she felt now was because she was at a big event that was fuelling her panic and she didn't have her natural remedy next to her to calm her down; Tommy.

Events like this made (Y/n) so panicked she ended up leaving early. There was always an enemy hanging around every corner and if a fight broke out, a panic attack would follow. (Y/n) loved the bones of Tommy and his family and it didn't bother her as much as it should what he did for work but (Y/n) didn't want to witness it.

With as much of a smile as she could muster, (Y/n) excused herself from the two women she had been spending the last half an hour with and placed her empty glass down on the table before she wandered near the dance floor. Her eyes had kept tabs on her husband for a while, keeping him in sight so when she got too nervous on her own, she could easily find and approach him.

Swiping her hand against her forehead, (Y/n) took a deep breath and tried to control the panic in her system that was making her sweat and made the room feel like it was heating up.

The smile on Tommy's face when he saw her made adrenaline spark in (Y/n)'s stomach and it eased the panic welling in her chest. He had a glass in one hand and his other hand stuffed into the pocket of his trousers but when she came within reach, his arm was already wound around her waist, reeling her into his side where she belonged.

"Gentlemen, this is my wife." Tommy pressed a kiss to (Y/n)'s cheek that he noticed was a bit flushed and he could see a sheen of sweat glistening on her exposed skin in the bright lights. Dipping his head down, Tommy raised a brow, silently asking if she was alright but her smile eased the rising concern he felt. He liked the way (Y/n) wrapped her arms around his chest beneath his blazer and he could feel her nuzzling her face into his neck, moving the collar of his shirt so she could graze her lips against his skin.

Turning her head, (Y/n) kept her cheek nuzzled against his neck and a kind smile on her face towards the two men standing next to Tommy whose focus was now severed from what they had previously been talking about.

"Mrs Shelby, looking lovely,"

"Thank you,"

"How about a dance?"

(Y/n) vaguely recognised the man on Tommy's right but she couldn't recall his name and the smile on his face was less than inviting or even friendly. She wasn't so sure a dance would be fun or the right thing and with Tommy's arm tightening around her waist, (Y/n) knew he didn't agree to that either. Work and home life were always kept separate and Tommy didn't want the line between them erasing.

"Sounds like a great idea, shall we?"

A smile tugged at (Y/n)'s lips when Tommy thrust his glass at the man beside him before he turned and guided (Y/n) towards the dance floor. He'd had enough of work and socialising with people like that for one night and he could tell by the expression on (Y/n)'s face that she was about ready to leave. They wouldn't be here for much longer.

Circling her arms around Tommy's neck, (Y/n) pressed her chest up against his when he reeled her in closer with his hands clamped down protectively on her hips. A loving warmth spread through her system when he leaned his forehead down to rest against hers and their gazes interlocked.

They didn't dance often, Tommy wasn't a dancer and with his line of work and their busy lives, it didn't leave much time for dancing. (Y/n) could scarcely remember the last time they danced together, let alone in front of others with an audience like this. But she couldn't focus or even notice the other people swaying close by on the dance floor or the onlookers around the large hall. All she could see, feel and her was the man in front of her with a small grace of a smile present on his otherwise stoic face.

(Y/n) didn't know how long they had been dancing for, they had spun in circles, swayed left and right and done a brief twirl before merging back together again.

With her cheek resting on Tommy's shoulder, (Y/n) let her eyes fall closed and pushed further into Tommy's chest like she was trying to find a way into his heart to keep close and safe. She felt his hands move from her hips to circle behind her and his fingers linked together, keeping her caged in his embrace as if he was afraid she was going to disappear.

The unease she had been feeling earlier had melted away but it was now replaced with something else. Her stomach was starting to curl into knots in a way that made (Y/n) unsure if she was going to be sick or not and the room now felt like it was in the middle of a volcano. Heat was rising all around her prickling her sweaty skin and making her feel uncomfortable.

When Tommy spun them round on his heels, even though the action was slow and in time with the music, (Y/n) felt her head turn on its axis and her steps faltered causing her weight to lean into Tommy.

"Everythin' okay?" Tipping his head down, Tommy hovered his lips over the shell of her ear and kissed the spot behind her ear, slowing down until they were barely moving anymore.

"Can we sit down?" (Y/n) moved her hands from behind Tommy's neck so she could scrunch his shirt up in her fists, grounding herself to the feel of him and his heartbeat that thundered peacefully through her skin. The few drinks she'd had so far must have gone straight to her head and interferred with the panic and adrenaline she already felt.

"Course, what's wrong?" Tommy's hand moved to the small of her back as he slowly guided them off the dance floor towards the nearest table where Arthur happened to be sitting.

"I just feel lightheaded, I'm okay."

She felt better when she sat down and the weight was off her legs that had started to tremble. Her elbow leaned on the table and her hand propped up her head that was suddenly too heavy for her neck. Her stomach was still churning and knotting up like a tangled snake inside her but sitting down helped a tiny bit. Tommy's hands on her shoulders and his lips against the back of her head helped the most.

After a few minutes, (Y/n) closed her eyes and pushed her face further into the palm of her hand to surpress a groan as her free arm wrapped tightly around her waist. Wishing her arm was some sort of binder that would press down on the pain and make it go away.

Tommy scanned his eyes around the hall, barely listening to the drabble Arthur was reeling off. He massaged his fingers into (Y/n)'s shoulders and leaned down to press another kiss to the back of her head. But when he felt her body starting to shake beneath him, something sparked to life in his gut and his expression hardened to stone.

Letting go of her shoulders, Tommy walked round and kneeled down on the floor in front of (Y/n)'s legs. His hands moved to rub up and down her thighs over her dress but he could feel his heart shattering in his chest when he looked her over.

She looked worse than she had earlier.

When they arrived she seemed fine, nervous but otherwise fine. Now, Tommy could see her skin wasn't the right colour anymore, her arm was bound around her stomach like she was in pain and her whole body had started to tremble. When he pressed the back of his hand against her temple. he could feel she was starting to burn a temperature.

"I'm taking you home. Now."

They couldn't stay here any longer when Tommy wasn't sure if his wife was going to collapse or start crying out in agony. He had to take her home where he could look after her without the risk of onlookers. Home was where she would be safe and have privacy that they didn't have here.

Tommy didn't know what to do when (Y/n) suddenly doubled over on herself until her head was pressing into her knees and both arms were bound around her stomach like iron bars. His hands moved from her thighs to her upper arms that were still shaking and he pressed his forehead against the top of her head, quietly shushing her when she started to groan.

"Baby, talk to me. What's wrong eh?"

(Y/n) tried to shake her head but it only made her feel dizzy and when she tried to speak, nothing but a croaked gurgle left her lips. She wanted to go home, she wanted Tommy to take her home. Her stomach was now feeling agonising cramps, everything was trembling and her body was on fire.

She wanted Tommy wrapped around her like a blanket, she wanted to feel his comfort and for him to magically take all the pain away but she didn't even know why she was suddenly in so much pain.

She felt fine before they came here.

Carefully, Tommy took (Y/n)'s chin between his fingers and tilted her head up so she could look at him again and it broke his heart to see tears staining her cheeks.

"Baby-"

Whatever he was about to say got stuck at the back of his throat when (Y/n) jerked to the side and threw up on the floor next to him.

Tommy remained perfectly still, his hands frozen on her arms and his jaw slack before he gently moved to rub his hand up and down her back. Something was definitely wrong with his wife for her to be sick and cry in public like this. (Y/n) was always so well composed and if she felt nervous she would tell him and they would go home. But this wasn't nerves, this was something else.

"Let it out, love."

Keeping one hand on her back, Tommy swiped the hankerchief from his top pocket and passed it to her before he kissed her hair and cradled the back of her neck.

When she threw up again, Tommy sighed into her hair and pushed himself up a little higher, balancing his weight on the balls of his feet as his eyes glanced over to Arthur. His brother was in between sitting and standing, unsure what to do or how he could help.

A burning sensation crept up the back of Tommy's throat and dwelled deep down in his chest when he heard murmurs and saw that a small crowd had started to get closer to see what was going on. Why were they gathering round? This wasn't a show or spectacle. (Y/n) wasn't doing this for an audience, she was ill and she didn't need any onlookers gawping at her.

"What the fuck are you looking at?!" His voice bellowed throughout the room and seemed to overpower the music that was already fading into the background, overcome by the scene of the Shelby's.

Some people turned their heads, adverted their eyes, others skimped away towards the bar or out of sight so they couldn't be seen gawking anymore. Just a few people stayed gathered round and made a small amount of room for Polly to push her way through and reach her nephew and his wife.

"Tommy..."

Turning his head back from looking through the crowd, Tommy looked back at (Y/n) but he could feel the blood draining down to his feet and his eyes widened in their sockets. Blood was dribbling down her lower lip and making a small slithering trail down her chin.

Gulping, Tommy tried to stop himself from shaking and he took the hankerchief from her hand to gently wipe the blood away, staining the once white fabric with tainted crimson.

"We're taking her to the hospital. Arthur, you can drive, Ada and John will sort out here." Polly patted Tommy's shoulder before she stood up, ordering the boys about with a wave of her hand. There was no way she was waiting here to sort things out when she knew exactly how Tommy was going to react in this situation. He was going to blow up, lose his temper and with a gun strapped to his side, he wasn't safe if he got enraged. Polly needed to go along and keep her nephew calm and under control since (Y/n) was in no fit state to do so on her own.

Wasting no more time, Tommy scooped an arm under (Y/n)'s knees and hooked the other around her back and lifted her up from the chair, praying she wouldn't be sick again or throw up any more blood. He had done this many times, hoisted his wife up into his arms bridal style and carried her wherever they needed to be. Whether it was carrying her over the threshold when they got married, from the sofa up the stairs to bed when she fell asleep waiting up for him in the early hours of the morning. Or carrying her to bed once when she was too drunk to stand, Tommy was used to this and he secretly loved it.

He loved holding (Y/n) like this, having her so close to his heart, in his arms and against him or even when he carried her over his shoulder, it was natural.

But this time it was different. Tommy needed to carry her like this, he needed to hold her and protect her and take her away from prying eyes and get her somewhere safe, quickly. This was to get an escape for her, get her to the car and show everyone here that she was his girl, his lady, his to protect and love and take care of.

Polly opened the doors and Tommy barged through them, digging his fingers into (Y/n)'s flesh, squeezing her dress so tightly against her skin that they almost melted together as he jogged down the steps towards the car. He could feel (Y/n)'s arms tightening around his neck and he knew from the whimpers muffling into his chest that his once white shirt would now be spotted with crimson just like the hankerchief.

It took a great deal of effort for Tommy to climb into the car backwards, shuffle across the seat with (Y/n) still in his arms and then manoeuvre her across his lap so that Polly could squeeze in the back with him as Arthur scrambled into the front.

(Y/n)'s head fell on Tommy's shoulder and her trembling arms coiled away from his neck so she could again scrunch his shirt up in her fists, accidentally popping a button in the process.

She could feel Polly's hand rubbing over her ankles soothingly and Tommy had one arm around her waist and the other hand was pressed against her cheek like a cold compress. It was soothing with how hot her skin felt and his thumb was pressing into her cheekbone, stimulating her to focus on him and stay awake.

If (Y/n) hadn't of heard Polly giving out the orders inside, she would have guessed it was Arthur driving the car. He was too harsh and didn't break fast enough when he went round the corners and he managed to hit almost every pothole and cobble on the road. It made Tommy growl, something that vibrated through (Y/n)'s hands and up into her chest and sent adrenaline sparking in her stomach.

Tommy gulped when the tremours rattling through (Y/n) got worse until she was violently moving back and forth, unable to control it to the point even her eyes were jolting from side to side.

"S'alright love, not long now- hey, you keep looking at me, got it? Keep those eyes on me, you're not allowed to sleep yet."

Tommy's voice was oddly stern, a tone (Y/n) wasn't familiar with him using around her and his words were sharp and cut like razors piercing into her mind. And if his words weren't enough to capture her full attention, she felt his hand move from her cheek to roughly grab her chin between his fingers and thumb. He jerked her head back until she was face to face with him, their noses skimming together and their breaths mingling to the point she was sure he could taste the blood on her lips.

His brows were raised high, his blue eyes were as deep as the sea and pierced her very soul but it was the way his jaw was set and his lips were locked in a straight line that got (Y/n)'s attention the most.

He wasn't having her pass out on him yet.

With a quiet gurgle, (Y/n) nodded her head to show him she understood, that she was listening and trying her hardest to focus on him, despite the fog that was rolling in on her mind.

The car came to an ungodly stop causing (Y/n)'s head to bash into Tommy's and even though he groaned, it was (Y/n) who momentairely blacked out. But when Tommy's hand shook her chin and got rougher when patting her cheek, her senses came back to her and she tried to clear her vision so she could look up at her husband again who was calling her name violently.

Tommy could see (Y/n) was on the verge of passing out when he carried her into the hospital. All he could manage to say was 'help her' on repeat, raising his voice until he was almost screaming, demanding the attention of anyone who would listen so they would come and look at his wife.

He didn't hear whatever Polly murmured to Arthur who disappeared without a word and Tommy didn't care to know. His attention was on his lady and her alone.

"Set her down here, what happened?"

Jogging down a hallway after a doctor and two nurses, Tommy hovered over a small stretcher in the empty corridor and carefully laid (Y/n) down, taking her hands in both of his when she clung to him like glue. He didn't want to let her go, he would rather them assess her while she stayed wrapped up in his arms but he knew that wasn't practical. But the way (Y/n) began to cry when he laid her down shattered his soul.

"I don't know, she was fine until an hour ago. She's burning up and she's been throwing up bad, blood too." Tommy wasn't stupid, he knew whatever was wrong with (Y/n) was due to something happening at that event tonight. She couldn't go from being perfectly healthy at home to then suddenly deteriorating this quickly for no reason at all.

Tommy stood near (Y/n)'s legs, both her hands still tightly held in his fists so she knew he hadn't gone anywhere and he could feel Polly's hands on his shoulders. A small attempt to try and keep him calm when she could feel his resolve quickly slipping away.

They watched in silence and concentration as the doctor checked (Y/n)'s temperature, listened to her heart, peaked inside her mouth before he tried to press his hands on her stomach. One touch sent (Y/n)'s knees coiling up to her stomach and a gut wrenching sob burned past her lips with a few speckles of blood.

"Has she eaten or drank anything?"

"Uh, wine, a few glasses. No food."

"No one else has been ill?" One look at the three of them told the doctor they had been somewhere in public, some event or a show or theatre of some kind. Tommy was in a suit and the two ladies were in dresses with their hair pinned up into elaborate styles.

"No."

"I think she's ingested something-"

"Like what?" Tommy wanted answers and he didn't feel like he had the time to wait for them or let the doctor finish his sentence. He needed (Y/n) to be helped and looked after but he needed to know what was wrong with her. If someone has given her something, Tommy needed the Blinders out there to find who it was and deal with them.

"My guess would be poison..." The rest of his words hit on deaf ears, all Tommy could think of was that someone had managed to get something into (Y/n)'s drink and not his. They went for the one thing that mattered most to Tommy, they didn't even bother to try and harm him as well. Just (Y/n).

When the nurses started to wheel the gurney towards a room, Tommy followed, keeping (Y/n)'s hands in his as tight as he could. Watching in agony when more spurts of blood coughed up through her lips and her eyes started to drift near the back of her head.

Something between shock and pure rage filtered through Tommy's darkening eyes when the doctor's hand pressed firmly into his chest and caused his feet to scuff against the floor when he was stopped in his stride. His hands let go of (Y/n) when the gurney kept moving and it felt as if someone had torn his heart out of his chest and left him watching it leave.

"Mr Shelby, you can wait out here while we stabilise your wife." He knew who they were and he still dared to tell Tommy the one word that wasn't in his vocabulary unless it was (Y/n)- or Polly- saying it.

He couldn't breathe.

They were actually trying to separate him from her, they were keeping them apart when she needed him the most. She needed him there to hold her hand and tell her everything was going to be okay and that he was going to watch over her and make sure she was alright. What was he supposed to do out here? He couldn't sit and count the time and wait for news, not knowing what they were doing to (Y/n) in there. He couldn't do that.

The moment (Y/n)'s weak, choking voice called out his name, something snapped inside Tommy. In that split second his heart stopped and the blood flooded his ears and clouded his vision.

He snapped the gun from his holster and pushed the barell so forcefully against the doctor's temple that a circular indent started to form around the gun.

"I stay with my fucking wife. Move." Tears burned into his face like acid and his mouth became oddly dry as he furiously spat the words through gritted teeth.

He could feel Polly debating what to do, her hands kept moving from his shoulders, down his arms, back to his shoulders and then her chin perched on his shoulder. She wanted to scold him, to shout at him and rage that this was a hospital, these people were here to help (Y/n) and he couldn't threaten them lest he wanted (Y/n) to be thrown out. But all she could do was try and comfort him because she knew Tommy wasn't going to listen and he was wrestling between his temper, his heart and his yearning to be with (Y/n).

The moment the doctor stepped aside, Tommy stuffed the gun back in the holster and ran into the room. He clasped (Y/n)'s hand tighter than he should have and brought it to his lips, kissing her flushed skin to let her know that he was back, he hadn't left her for long. He carded his fingers through her hair, smoothing it away from her face while a nurse busied herself with taking a blood sample.

It was clear that both nurses had seen the interaction with the doctor and they knew who they were treating in here. They were fighting to keep their hands from shaking and they kept looking at Tommy's blazer, fearing at any moment he would take out his gun and unleash his rage on them.

"I'm here, love, I'm still here."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A horrid burning sensation flared up the back of (Y/n)'s throat and coupled with the aching fire in the pit of her stomach making her feel like she had swallowed fire and lived to tell the tale. The burning spread through to her mouth that was parched and dry and felt as horrid as her eyes when she tried to open them.

The room she found herself in was small and the sheets beneath her were scratchy like paper and hard as stone.

She didn't recognise where she was when her sore eyes finally focused on what was around her. But what she did recognise, was a head of jet black hair, ruffled to the max and stuck up at all angles like he had been electrocuted.

Tommy.

He was slumped in a chair that was pulled as close to the bed as he could get it. His knees were bent out at the sides, his upper body was slumped over and his head was burrowed into the mattress she was laying on with both his hands clasped around one of hers.

She couldn't find her voice to speak, her throat was torn to ribbons when she tried to make a sound so she settled for moving her free hand and stroke her fingers through his hair. It only took two seconds for Tommy to wake up on full alert, his job made him a light sleeper to the point even the lightest rain drizzling down on the window would wake him up in the dead of night.

The surprise was evident in his crystal eyes but it was the way his lips parted and ever so slightly curved at the sides that made (Y/n)'s stomach jump with relief and excitement.

"Baby, oh love you're awake." For a moment, Tommy pressed his forehead back into the mattress and sent a silent thank you prayer to God and to Polly who he knew had been praying throughout the night and into the morning for this moment.

When he looked back up, Tommy stood to unsteady feet and leaned over to capture (Y/n)'s chapped lips in a breath taking kiss. He stole all the air she had within her lungs and more, swiping his tongue over her lower lip while one hand moved to cradle her neck and chin. They pulled apart when both were gasping for breath but Tommy stayed as close as possible with their noses brushing and their lashes tangling together. He sat down on the side of the bed, allowing a small smile to creep onto his otherwise stern and exhausted features.

"What... w-where-"

"Shh, it's alright," He stole another kiss, a gentle, brief one this time where their lips barely touched, only grazed together making (Y/n) lean up for more. "You're in the hospital, love. Been out for over twelve hours, gave me a fucking fright."

It was (Y/n)'s turn to steal another touch of his lips, nibbling at his lower lip when he leaned closer.

Everything was foggy, her mind was locked away in a cage and she couldn't seem to find out how to open it. She remembered turning up at the charity event, she had wrapped herself around Tommy, refusing to let him leave her side.

Flashes of voices swirled around in her head, shouting, bright lights blurring overhead. The feeling of Tommy's arms around her and his hand on her face, his deep eyes right in front of her but feeling so far away. A bumpy car ride that could have taken hours, she wasn't sure. Everything was mushed together, clips of a movie cut up and stitched back together in the wrong order.

"Some bastard spiked your drink, just yours, there was traces of blood in your blood. Doctor gave you medicine and charcoal to bind it, you'll be okay though. I won't let it happen again I swear it."

Tommy had waited through the night and into the morning as the doctor put (Y/n) on an IV of fluids and antidotes and concentrated charcoal to bind to the poison in her blood and stop it from spreading any further. The fever she had broke around three in the morning and finally, roughly around six in the morning- after Polly had gone home to help clean up the mess left in their wake- Tommy let himself fall asleep. Assured that (Y/n) was resting and not in danger of getting any worse while he slept vigil by her side.

For a few moments, (Y/n) closed her eyes and soaked in the feeling of Tommy's forehead pressing into hers, his hand on her neck and his breaths mixing in with hers.

"Lay with me," Her voice was quiet and she barely croaked out the words loud enough for Tommy to hear, but when they registered, his signature smile that he saved just for her graced his lips.

How could he refuse?

The blazer he had been wearing had been shed sometime in the early morning and he had kicked off his shoes and unbuttoned most of his shirt when he started to sweat and panic. But when he stood up from the bed, he took off the holsters he had kept on him for protection and as a silent warning to any staff member not to get in his way or ask him to leave.

He placed the holster on his vacant spot on the chair and shed his shirt like a second skin before he carefully climbed on the bed and laid on his side, facing (Y/n). His hand moved back to its new spot on her neck, splaying his thumb out over her jaw as he shuffled his other arm beneath her head and neck to keep her close.

(Y/n) reached out to hold onto his arm that was laid over her chest and her fingers danced across his skin, drawing aimless, soothing patterns over his arm while he pressed his lips against the side of her head. Breathing in her scent that was like his personal drug.

He couldn't come close to losing her like that again.

#thomas shelby #thomas shelby imagine #tommy shelby #tommy shelby imagine #imagine #tommy x reader #tommy shelby x reader #the peaky blinders #the peaky blinders imagine

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flowery-mess · 1 month ago

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Midnights of October🍁🧡🎃

October 24th

Friends with benefits with cop!Noah

summary: you and cop!Noah are friends with benefits, he sees you in his uniform at a halloween party and takes you back to his place

warnings: friends with benefits, smut; oral (f receiving), unprotected p in v (use protection irl), mention of handcuffs

words: 2.1k

author's note: this is literally copy and paste from my Ryan Tanner fic, which didn't get much love, because the fandom isn't popular on here, so I decided to slightly edit it and post it with Noah, because I like it. There's not really much about the actual job of police officer, but I'm open to write more for it if you want, let me know😊

taglist: @concreteangel92 @sorrowsofsilence @lma1986 @stardustsirenmelody @dream-machine-love @mrsnoahsebastian (let me know if you want to be tagged or deleted!😊)

Midnights of October masterlist

"What the fuck is she wearing?" Noah said with wide eyes when he saw you enter the bar.

31st October, Halloween party at your local bar, location you were both currently at.

You and Noah have been seeing each other since you moved to LA, which was 4 months ago. He needed to get over his ex, you over your ex. You introduced him to the phrase the best way to get over someone is to get under someone else. And that's exactly what you two did that night. That's also how you ended up getting under each other regularly and became what someone could call friends with benefits.

Noah is hot decent guy, and good in bed. You always end up at one of your places, have sex, eat food, talk and then one of you leaves. That somehow became an unspoken rule between the two of you, you don't cuddle, and you don’t spend the rest of the night together.

You never said it out loud, but sometimes you imagined what being more serious with Noah would be. He's nice, treats you right, cooks for you, treats other people right, he's a cop who protects people from the bad. He's an ideal guy for a relationship. But Noah never mentioned something like that, so you didn't either. You didn't have feelings for him, but you knew you liked spending time with him.

You knew he would be at this party, so you decided to be a little tease to spice things up tonight, because you knew you two would leave the bar together either way.

Last night Noah was on call and ended up leaving for work when you were at his place, but you left before he came back. You knew for a while that you're costume this year will be a cop, just to see if it does something to Noah. So you took the chance when you saw his spare work belt lying over the kitchen chair. You took things that would get you in trouble out of it. You also took one of Noah’s work shirts in the color blue and left.

Noah took few long steps in your direction and repeated his question, this time directly to you. "What the fuck are you wearing Y/N?"

"Hi there Noah." you smiled teasingly at him and put hands over your his belt.

Noah didn't put much effort in his costume, he was wearing coat with a hat, looking like he fell out of Peaky Blinders episode.

"We're leaving, now." he said through gritted teeth and took you by the elbow, dragging you through the crowd towards the door.

"We're talking about this when we get home, I can't talk right now, because I'm mad at you, you can't even imagine." home, that was all you heard, he said home. He was mad, but he also said home. And it didn't really mean anything because he was going home literally, but it made your heart flutter a bit.

When you two entered his home, he turned around and backed you until your back touched the front door.

"What the hell were you thinking? Stealing from a cop? Part of his uniform?"

You unclipped the belt and handed it to him, then you started unbuttoning his shirt.

"What are you doing?" he asked confused, anger still visible in his eyes.

"It's not stealing if you return it. Here." you put his shirt over the belt in his hands.

"You took my work shirt too?" he looked like he will jump out of his skin any second.

He was so mad that it took him few seconds to see what you were wearing under his shirt, black laced bra. When he connected his gaze with your chest, the anger in his eyes seemed to go away.

"You can write me up, officer Sebastian." you never role played with him and weren't planning on it tonight, you just teased him a bit more.

"Y/N I'm serious, you can't do that. It's dangerous." Noah said, more calm every second. You were too hot for him to be angry, standing in front of him like that.

"Okay, I'm sorry." you placed your hands on his shoulders, took off his coat and then pulled him closer to you.

You couldn't stop staring in each other’s eyes, in silence. He lowered his face to touch your forehead with his, while his nose was stroking yours, gently. He was always gentle with you.

"Kiss me." you whispered. And he did, because you were his soft spot and he'd do anything you asked for.

Slow little kisses turned into passionate kisses in a few seconds, as Noah’s hands were exploring your body as if it was the first time he was touching you.

He lowered his hands under your ass and picked you up, carrying you in the direction of his bedroom. You gently started undoing the buttons on his shirt, taking it off of his shoulders once you managed to open all of them.

Noah put you gently on his bed, his lips never leaving yours, while he hovered over you.

"Noah" you moaned his name as his fingers started moving from your chest to the band of your shorts.

"Mhm." Noah gave you his answer with lips on your neck, sucking at your sensitive skin.

He continued to move his fingers over the band of your shorts, putting them just a bit inside of the band for a few seconds, then pulling them out and moving them over the lace on your bra, teasing your nipples. Teasing. Punishing. For stealing his things.

"Noah, please."

"Please what, huh?" he lifted his face from your neck, with a smirk on his face.

"Stop teasing Noah, I said I'm sorry."

He took advantage of you lifting your hips, which was movement out of pure need for more fraction, and pulled your shorts down. And another second his lips were back on yours and his hand made its way back to your lower tummy, slowly dragging his fingers closer to where you wanted him the most.

He started rubbing your clit over the fabric and put his lips on your left nipple.

"Fuck." you moaned, he always knew how and where to touch you.

When his hand left your core your hips tried to follow his movement. But his hand was already on it's way to remove your bra.

"Hate to say it, but you looked hot as a cop." he threw your lacy bra away and put his fingers in use with your panties.

"You look hot as a cop all the time." you returned the compliment.

He used the hand in your panties to get rid of them and then he placed himself between your legs. He thrives from giving, he’s that good of a guy, so even though he was mad at you earlier, he wanted to pleasure you first. He continued kissing you for few more seconds, then he gently bit at your jaw before he made his way down your body. He hooked your legs over his shoulders while kissing the inside of your thigs. He looked up at you an met caught you watching him.

"What?" he asked.

"Nothing, I just like looking at you." you whispered. And it was true, you liked looking at him a little too much than you should.

He continued kissing your thigh until his mouth met your core and your head fell back on the pillow.

Noah’s tongue kept circling around your clit while his hand held your hips down. You put your hand over his and couldn't stop the sounds that were leaving your mouth.

He did few licks from your hole back to your clit, he knew your weakness. He eased the pressure on your tummy with slightly lifting his hand as he flattened his tongue and let you move your hips the way you needed against his tongue. When he heard your breathing quicken, he held your hips still again and worked his tongue over your folds and swollen clit, collecting your juices while the feeling inside you was growing. When your orgasm took over you, your legs squeezed Noah’s head to make sure he doesn’t pull away too soon. You heard him chuckle against you, sending wave through your overstimulated body.

He kissed his way back to your mouth, where you could taste yourself. It was your turn to flatten your tongue as you held his head still and licked his mouth and chin clean.

"That was hot." he said barely above whisper.

"My turn." you said and tried to push him under you, but he sat on his knees and started unzip his jeans while muttering something that sounded like 'next time'. Before you could find out what Noah said he was already lining his hard dick at your entrance.

He slid his dick through your folds few times to collect your wetness and looked in your eyes, searching for confirmation which you gave him with taking his jaw in your hands and connecting your lips with his.

"Fuck baby." Noah let out in a pleasure after he slowly slid into you, lowering himself to his elbows to be close to you. He grabbed you by your chin and connected your lips for a hundredth time this night. He said baby, he said home. There probably wasn't any deeper meaning behind it, but he rarely used pet names for you.

His deep growl snaped you out of your thoughts. Noah’s head was in the crook of your neck, this position allowed you both moan straight into each other’s ears.

"Noah." you moaned his name once more as you felt the tension in your body to grow again. He set the pace as he continued to move his dick in and out of you. It felt different tonight, but you didn’t know if it was just for you, or if Noah felt it too. Sex with Noah was always intimate, but tonight felt even more.

Noah put his hand between your bodies to play with your clit, which wasn't really needed after he hit the right spot inside you that made your walls pulse around him. "I'm going to cum."

"Yeah baby, let go. Cum for me." and that was the last snap. You did come under Noah, tugging at his hair while being moaning mess.

Noah kept thrusting inside you, riding you through your high as he was still chasing his own.

"Y/N, fuck!" was the last thing you heard before he came too.

He collapsed on your chest, his head still in the crook of your neck.

“If you steal my things again, I’m putting you in handcuffs.” Noah said.

“Well, that sounds really terrifying.” You said with visible irony in your voice and made Noah laugh.

Your chests kept moving up and down, enjoying the moment in silence.

"Be mine." Noah said into your skin.

"What?" you tensed a bit, not sure what he meant.

"I don't want you to leave each time after we have sex, I don't want to pretend we're not close when we're in public. I don't want you to steal my clothes, I want you to wear it whenever you want. Be mine, please." Noah raised his head from your neck after he was finished to look into your eyes. “You don’t have to answer right now, or we don’t have to make it official right this second. But I want everyone to know we’re seeing each other, I want you Y/N.”

You slid your fingers through Noah’s hair, pushing them out of his eyes that were looking at you with so much hope. Then gently slid your hand to caress his cheek.

"Are you asking me all of this while your dick is still inside me?" was the only answer you could get out. You both started laughing, Noah got up to throw away the condom, then he put the covers over both of you and you laid on his chest.

"So, what do you say?" Noah started playing with your hair, you could sense he was nervous.

"I'm saying let's give it a chance then." you tried to hide your smile with putting your head under his neck, but he cupped your cheeks and made you look him in the eye.

"Really?"

"Really." that was all he needed to know, he kissed your forehead, then your cheeks, your chin, then finally your lips.

"We're going on a date tomorrow then. And you're staying tonight." Noah said between kisses.

For the first time ever you two took shower together, Noah gave you his t-shirt to sleep in. You fell asleep cuddled together, but you still heard Noah say "But don't steal my uniform again please." before he planted last kiss in your hair.

#noah sebastian #bad omens #noah sebastian x reader #bad omens imagine #noah sebastian band #midnights of october

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call-sign-shark · 2 years ago

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Heaven In Your Eyes || Masterlist

Pairing: Arthur Shelby x Reader!OC (Heaven Lavey Shelby)

Additional content/Info: CLICK HERE

Fic Summary: He meets her at church one dreary night, guided by her singing. Her name? Heaven Lavey. White ivory hair, fair porcelain skin, and petite shape, this almost ethereal creature is Arthur's strict opposite. Yet, all it took was one dive into her heavenly eyes for him to be convinced God has sent His sweetest angel to save his bastard soul. The two lovebirds, obsessed with each other, are determined to live their love no matter people's judgments and no matter the dangers of a Peaky Blinder's life. They are together through the best and through the worst.

But behind her holy appearance and sweet facade, Heaven Lavey is dangerous. With rumors of witchcraft and murder, her shady past weighs on her shoulders. And if she is a blessing for Arthur Shelby, she will soon prove to be a curse for those who dare to stand in her and her husband's way. Even Thomas Shelby himself.

She is Arthur’s Angel, but don't get fooled by her doe eyes: for the rest of us, she is the White Devil.

And by extend, you are too.

Why? Because Heaven Lavey… It’s you.

TW: Major character death, explicit sexual content, canonical violence, graphic description of violence, blasphemy, witch trials and burning of innocent women, dependent relationship (if Arthur and Heaven are happy in their relationship, they are obsessed and possessive, which leads to bursts of violence and deifying from Arthur. By no means I am claiming their relationship is healthy, but it is what works for them)

ACT I. SACRILEGE

♢ Ch. 1 || Heaven in Your Eyes

♢ Ch. 2 || Never Did, Never Dared

♢ Ch. 3 || Something Wicked This Way Comes 🔞

♢ Ch. 4 || Dead Bird at Witchin Hour

♢ Ch. 5 || The Hell in His Eyes

♢ Ch. 6 || The One They Should Have Burned

♢ Ch. 7 || Of Matches and Gasoline 🔞

♢ Ch. 8 || Tango on Broken Dreams

ACT II. CARNAGE

♢ Ch. 9 || For Whom the Bells Toll

♢ Ch. 10 || Closer to Heaven or Closer to Hell? 🔞

♢ Ch. 11 || When The Bridges Burn

♢ Ch. 12 || As They Always Did

♢ Ch. 13 || Cross My Heart and Hope to Die

♢ Ch. 14 || Pure As a Lamb 🔞

♢ Ch. 15 || Women Like Me in a Men's World

♢ Ch. 16 || Après Moi le Déluge

♢ Ch. 17 || Our Old Friend Death (c o m i n g . . .)

♢ Ch. 18 || Il Diàvulu Biancu

♢ Ch. 19 || Empire of Lies

♢ Ch. 20 || The Fog of Silent Hills

ACT III.

♢ Ch. 21 ||

♢ Ch. 22 ||

♢ Ch. 23 ||

♢ Ch. 24 ||

♢ Ch. 25 ||

♢ Ch. 26 ||

♢ Ch. 27 ||

♢ Ch. 28 ||

♢ The series can be longer.

Some events from the show are taken and obviously reworked. Yet, except for a few quotes and scenes, everything else is imagined by the author.

Related works - in chronological order-

♢ From Blood We Will Grow

♢ To Bark and Bite

♢ Kaiser Meeting Cyril (requested)

♢ A Bone to Pick With It (requested)

♢ Perfect Lines

♢ Savage Daughter

♢ A Slice of Us (Modern!HYE)

♢ Love Ritual (@zablife's celebration)

♢ The Woods Whisper 1, 2 (Halloween Horror)

♢Little Lamb 1, 2, 3 (Yandere!AU)

Moodboards and other content

♢ Playlist

♢ Moodboard Aesthetic

♢ Moodboard Chapter 6

♢Heaven In your Eyes Act II trailer

♢ Moodboard Chapter 12

♢ Heaven in your Eyes chapter 16 trailer

Looking for more? Check out Heaven's masterlist I and II.

Taglist: @adaydreamaway08 @theshelbyclan @jomarch-wannabe @esposadomd @zablife @woofgocows @anathemasworld @anastasia0082 @kate654 @kxnnxy @babayaga67 @meowtastic @shelbyssins @sarai-ibn-la-ahad @bluevenus19@justrainandcoffee @kishie8 @zablife @alexandra-001 @copinghex@alexizodd @helen06dreamer @kmc1989 @mischievouslittlecreature @peakyswritings @peakyltd @chaosinkest1996 @vanhelsingsbigtoe @cherubswhispers @he6rtshaker @bemyqueenofdarkness @cljordan-imperium @red-riding-wood @lokigirlszendaya @jjovin3221 @06nasyrah13 @randomcreator-09

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runnning-outof-time · 1 year ago

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Updating Taglists

So I’ve gotten a pretty decent influx of new followers (who seem to me like they’re actual people) recently, and that along with the fact that I’ve only got three stories left to write before I open up requests made me decide to see if anyone wants to be added to any of my taglists.

I have three:

Tommy

John

Arthur

or you can be added to ALL of them.

Either comment on this post or send me a message/ask letting me know which one(s) you want to be put on and I’ll add you!! 😊

#taglist update #updating taglists #peaky blinders x reader #tommy shelby x reader #john shelby x reader #arthur shelby x reader

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pinguwrites · 1 year ago

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Kinktober 2023 | Day Five — Thomas Shelby + overstimulation, bondage

Pairing -> sub!thomas shelby x dom!reader

Warnings -> smut (minors dni), overstimulation, bondage, riding, mild choking

KINKTOBER 2023 MLIST

Disclaimer: Peaky Blinders characters, plots, quotes, etc. do not belong to me and belong to the rightful owner(s). This is only fanfiction and this is just for fun.

Tommy whimpered — actually whimpered, the first time you ever heard such a noise leave his lips.

You were both in his bed, his hands tied up to each side of the headboard, you on his dick, bouncing and riding like your life depended on it. It took oh so long to get him to agree to this. He hadn’t liked the idea of being bound, even though he’d done it to you before, but eventually, he relented.

You were glad he trusted you enough for this. It’s not like you were going to slit his throat or anything, but the idea of him vulnerable in front of you made your heart flutter and warm up like a fireplace.

You bent over and gave him a kiss on the side of his lips.

He growled, tilting his head to the side, but you pulled away. “I — I want a proper kiss.”

“Do you now?”

Tommy threw his head back on the pillow, thrusting his hips up. “It’s only fair, eh?” He let out a strangled groan. “You’ve been teasing me, overstimulating me . . .”

You obliged and gave him a quick kiss, not enough to satisfy him, but enough to keep him at bay for the moment.

“Don’t be like that,” you said, letting out a moan once you felt his cock reach that deep spot inside of you. “You only came once before, are you telling me it’s too much?”

“Liar.” He shook his head. “You sucked me off — at — at the party, remember? Earlier today?”

You feigned confusion. “No.

“This’ll be the third time,” Tommy breathed out, tugging on his ropes.

“It’ll be the second,” you corrected, even though you were wrong. “The third time will be after this.”

Tommy’s eyes widened at the realization. “Again?” He let out another whine, his hips squirming away. “Ah, fuck.”

“Is that a problem?” you asked, a cheeky grin on your face.

He hissed. “N-no.” But it was clear all the pleasure was getting to him.

A few more bounces was all it took for both of you to come. You halted your movements, wanting to take a breather. You rested your hands on his chest, as Tommy begged for you to take off his restraints.

“No, Tommy. You agreed to it, now follow through.”

Tommy shook his head. “Sweetheart,” he warned, low and dangerous. “You’re driving me crazy. Take them off. I need to touch you.”

You knew he didn’t really want them off. If he wanted he could just escape, which you were sure he knew how to do. Or he could use the safe word you both installed early on in the relationship.

So you let him suffer and started moving again, your hands wrapping around his throat. Another whine escaped from his lips, along with a cry of your name.

Taglist:

@rainyforest777

@thatwitchybitch420

@madeinuk

@gentyleman

@henrywintersdearestgirl

#thomas shelby #thomas shelby x reader #thomas shelby x y/n #thomas shelby x you #peaky blinders #peaky blinders fanfic #pinguwrites #kinktober #kinktober 2023 #kinktober masterlist

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mcumorningstar · 8 months ago

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A Rose By Any Other Name || Part Three

part one part two

series pairing: tommy shelby x reader, hints of john shelby x reader, hints of tommy x lizzie

warnings: 18+ minors dni, implied rape (the aftermath so no detail), mild violence, typical peaky blinders content

summary: After a change of plans, you find yourself wondering why Tommy invited you to the Epsom Derby at all.

author’s note: I wanted to include the Shelby’s gypsy roots (however brief) but I do apologise for any inaccuracies. I have started a taglist for this series so let me know if you want to be kept updated :)

Tommy banged on your door late on Friday. At first, you worried you slept in but it was still dark outside. Slightly drunk, he walked through the threshold without an invite and leaned against the wall in the kitchen.

“I’ve got business in London,” Tommy’s deep voice rumbled in the dark of your house, “You’re to get the train to Epsom with Polly tomorrow at 9.”

“Polly?!” Your eyes widened and Tommy whispered, “Easy, ey, she can smell fear.”

An amused scoff escaped your lips. Tommy Shelby just made a joke. The pleasant rumble of his laughter softened your nerves. Tommy may be the devil by reputation but the man stood in your kitchen was... different.

“What’s in London?” It was a risk to ask but he was in a mood you’ve never seen before. There was a playfulness to his usual self.

“Arthur. Arthur is in London. May I smoke?”

You nodded and he lit a cigarette. Eyes trained to his every move, he was a vision in your humble living space as smoke fell from his lips.

“I’ll come find you tomorrow,” He pointed at you with his cigarette between two fingers and licked his lips, “You owe me a drink, remember?”

Failing to conceal a smirk, you raised your eyebrows at him and he turned to go, the shadow of a smile on his lips. You haven’t even fucked him and you were starting to understand Lizzie’s infatuation with him. He was unlike any man you’ve ever met.

The Epsom Derby was a magnificent spectacle; people with more money than sense flocked in the masses to the grand occasion. Everyone was in the best clothes, ready to indulge in a long day of drinking, dancing and gambling.

Alongside you, Polly strutted around the place as if she was King George himself and you meekly followed, taking in the extravagant sites.

“Chin up,” Polly grinned around her cigarette as you walked through the Derby, “Don’t let these bastards think they’re better than you. You’re a Blinder today.”

Lost for words, you accepted that fate and wondered if Tommy told her why you were there. From her statement, he must need you for a business dealing but that still didn’t make sense.

Why would he require your amateur assistance on one of the most important days of his career?

Stopping by a white fence, Polly scoped the area. Racehorses were displayed on the other side of the fence, trotting by with their trainers holding the reins.

Among the crowd, you spotted Tommy as he rushed down a set of steps with a blond woman in white and pink. A risky colour to wear in a field. Was that May Carlton, the posh horse trainer Lizzie told you about?

“Are you going to lay a bet, y/n?” Polly asked cheerfully, although her eyes scanned the crowds in search of something, or someone.

“I’ve never gambled before,” You realised, making Polly laugh, “But why not start at the most prestigious gambling event in England?”

She smirked at that and looked over at you, “I see why he likes you.”

An inaudible sound fell from your mouth as you struggled with what to say. What did she mean by that?

“Oh there’s Lizzie and Jeremiah,” Polly pointed to the pair as they walked through the crowd.

Panic rose in your chest, pulling at your lungs until a sharp gasp fought the taut struggle for air. Polly turned to look at you, sizing you up.

“Lizzie doesn’t know I’m here.”

Polly rose her eyebrows at that, amused by how boringly ridiculous it was.

Sighing you looked over to Lizzie, “She can’t know Tommy invited me. I don’t why he did and I can’t have her thinking there’s something going on. And I could hardly say no to the devil himself.”

“I think this is the most women my nephew has ever juggled at once,” Polly sounded a little impressed, “He has his father’s devilment. Lizzie’s a fool if she hasn’t realised it yet.”

Taking a deep breath, you nodded and listened to her. Tommy looked around fruitlessly before heading up the stairs with Lizzie a few steps behind.

Jeremiah disappeared into the crowd again before Polly called his name. The man approached with a warm smile.

“Jeremiah, this is y/n. I’ve some business to attend to so would you be kind enough to accompany her? You can look away when she lays her bet,” Polly addressed him but kept a comforting hand against your shoulder.

“Right this way,” Jeremiah smiled, gesturing through the crowd. Polly squeezed your arm and disappeared in the opposite direction. Jeremiah was a preacher, a friendly one at that, and so your nerves were at ease as you walked to your seats.

The race started and finished before you saw anybody else. Police officers left their posts and swarmed like flies on shit.

Now things started to make sense. The Blinders were burning other bookies’ gambling licenses, eliminating the competition. More money and business for the Shelby’s.

Bypassing the hysteria of the police and the indifference of the toffs, you made your way to the bar.

The blonde woman in pink and white stood by the bar in a heated conversation with a woman in red. Are these the women Polly joked were being juggled?

Abort, abort!

As the bar was off-limits, you redirected yourself to find John or Arthur. Surely they’ll know where the man who invited you was.

Sitting at a rickety table was the two Shelby brothers and Lizzie. Her glassy eyes caught you before you saw her.

“Y/n?” Her voice was weak and her hair fell in front of her face. A cigarette hung from her fingers, hands shaking as she held it to her lips.

Arthur’s thunderous voice, fuelled by the cocaine he was lining up, overpowered Lizzie’s meekness.

“What you doing here?”

Fuck it. Lizzie’s seen you now.

“Ask your brother,” You took a seat, “Fuck knows why, haven’t seen him all day.”

Lizzie glanced across the table at you, her head hung low but her eyes now fixed on you. A croaky gasp caught in her throat and a wave of sobs spilled from her.

“Lizzie?” You dragged your chair beside her and rubbed her back, “Lizzie, what’s happened?”

Sitting closer, you could see a bruise was forming on her cheek and a bloody scrape stretched across her forehead.

John leaned over your shoulder, the warmth of his chest against your back, “She was working. Caught a nasty toff. We’ll get her home safe.”

His face was so close to yours as your head snapped towards him in shock. Genuine sympathy was in his eyes and a soft smile graced his lips.

“But-“ You began before Lizzie cut you off, her voice thick with tears, “It’s fine.”

Your brows pulled together as you watched her wipe her wet cheeks. Lizzie didn’t whore anymore. Her only exception was Tommy.

“Is he here?” You turned to John, who shrugged with a mouth full of whiskey. Sighing and silently seething, you helped Lizzie to her feet, “Let’s get you home.”

As if she was in a daze, she complied and she didn’t speak another word for the rest of the day.

Once John and Arthur dropped you off at home, Thelma helped you get Lizzie to bed. Her wide eyed stare bore into you, “What happened, y/n?”

But you didn’t have time to explain. Lizzie was in safe hands and you had a man to find. From the limited time you’ve known Thomas Shelby, he was entirely focused on business and, after an event like the Epsom Derby, you knew exactly where he’d be.

Dusk had long settled and the danger of Small Heath loomed over you but it wasn’t long before you stormed into Shelby Company Ltd.

The double doors to Tommy’s office were wide open, as he and Michael toasted a whiskey. In a fit of rage, you marched right towards him.

“Y/n?” Michael asked, his eyebrows pinched together as he looked between you and Tommy. Your eyes didn’t waver from Tommy, grabbing the lapels of his coat and shoving him against his desk. His glass tumbler fell from his hand and hit the wooden floor with a thud.

The open palm of your right hand met his cheek, clipping at his ear too. So swift and firm that his head shot to the side.

Shaking him, you demanded, “What did you do?! She can barely fucking speak!”

You slapped him again and shoved at his chest. It was nothing compared to his past pains, you knew that, but you didn’t care. Tommy grabbed your wrists and you were powerless to stop him. He simply held you there as you struggled in his grip.

Michael put his glass down and approached you with his hands in front of him, like he was trying to calm an angry bear.

“Y/n-“ Michael started but Tommy spoke, keeping his eyes on yours, “Leave us.”

Michael nodded and hesitantly left you alone. You stopped struggling, almost collapsing into Tommy’s chest at the exhaustion of the past few hours.

“Is that why you invited me?”

It was out there now. A question you didn’t know if you wanted to know the answer to.

“It wasn’t supposed to happen like that,” He screwed his eyes shut and met yours again, “The path was blocked off for the King. I got there as soon as I could.”

He was telling the truth. Genuine remorse.

“Is that why you invited me?” You repeated with a sign, resigned to your fate.

Tommy let go of your wrists and wrapped his arms around your waist. As soon as his hands landed on your back, you shoved them off and stepped back.

“You,” You spluttered at his nerve, “You seriously think that’s appropriate for this conversation? I’m not going to be another woman on the roster.”

“Ey?”

“The woman in pink and white? Was that May or was that another woman at your beck and call? Lizzie’s on there too but rule me out,” The finality of your statement crumbled slightly as you caught his eyes.

Tommy cleared his throat and, when you crossed your arms over your chest, he sighed and said, “I dreamt of a deer, walking along Garrison Lane. The next night I met you.”

“I don’t..?”

“Polly says a deer in a dream is a good omen. That gentleness and innocence will cross your path.”

“Are you suggesting the deer meant me?” Your jaw was slack as you tried to grasp what he was saying. Tommy tilted his head to one side in a non-committal display of likelihood.

“But I’m a whore and I slammed a door in your face.”

“Polly is rarely wrong.”

Tommy reached for you and pulled you closer once again. You weren’t touching but you could feel the warmth emanating from him. Calloused hands cupped your face and blue eyes held you hostage in his gaze.

“It wasn’t supposed to happen like that and you were never going to be involved.”

Foolish as it may be, you believed him.

Dried blood spread across his temple caught your attention, “You’re bleeding Tommy.”

He brushed it off as your fingers delicately held his face to inspect the cut. It wasn’t deep but you kept your eyes trained to it as you spoke again.

“Why did you invite me?” Another bold question you were scared of knowing the answer to. A man like Tommy Shelby wasn’t accustomed to being questioned.

“You’re my good omen. We took Epsom,” A soft smile graced his lips, his thumb stroking over your cheekbone, making you meet his dizzying stare.

You were speechless. The Shelby’s are a gypsy family so his superstitions made sense, but is he sweet on you because of the dream or is this rooted entirely in his superstition?

Rendered a fool by his bright eyes and soft touch, you asked, “Who were the other women?”

Tommy pursed his lips, “Nobody worth your time.”

“If I’m gonna be your good omen, I need to know the truth,” You said softly, resting your hands on his stomach. Tommy fought a smile, wrapping his large hands around your biceps.

“May trains my horse. She deserves better than me,” Tommy’s voice rumbled lowly between you, “The woman in white and pink, is Grace. She’s married, sailing back to New York with her rich husband.”

There was resentment behind his words. Interesting that she returned to him now that he’s rich.

“She said she loves me, not him.”

Standing there in his office, between his legs as he sits on the edge of his desk, you wondered how many others had been in this position. How many women were weak to Tommy Shelby?

“So why is she sailing away?” Your fingers idly fiddled with the buttons of his waistcoat.

“Because I told her to,” Tommy was no longer touching you, his hands busy lighting a cigarette.

“You don’t love her?”

Tommy gave a short laugh at that, “She’s of the past. I do not concern myself with matters of the past.”

“Maybe if she’d been in your dreams..” You teased, hoping his guard was lowered around you. Tommy laughed, his blue eyes glistening, and pulled you closer, “You may be my good omen but don’t push it.”

His strong arms wrapped around your waist, securing you in place. A tension lingered in the silence between you and Tommy’s gaze drifted to your lips.

You were here to punish him, to hurt him for hurting Lizzie. Poor Lizzie… and you were here, a devilish smile and a compliment away from letting Tommy Shelby kiss you. What were you thinking?

Breaking you out of your stupor, you blurted, “I should go.”

Like Icarus and the sun, your resolve began to melt away. Tommy rose to his feet, your bodies now pressed against each other.

“I’ll drive you,” Was all he said.

Taglist

@sherbitdibdab

#peaky blinders #tommy shelby fanfic #tommy shelby x fem!reader #tommy shelby x reader #tommy shelby x reader smut #cillian murphy #cillian x fem!reader

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motherofdogs1010 · 9 months ago

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Little Darling III (Thomas Shelby x Reader)

Summary: Birmingham has received a new club, one that is showcasing a exotic type of dance that is drawing in crowds, but it is one particular dancer that catches Thomas Shelby's eye... one that goes by the stage name: Little Darling

Warnings: 18+ only, eventual pinv sex, eventual smut, stripper!reader, heavy petting, dry humping, language, drinking, cannon Peaky Blinder violence

A/N: So here is the re-do of Part III, I felt so much better about it! Also, I feel that 'West Coast' by Lana Del Ret would be on a playlist for this story

Also, comment if you want to join taglist

💋 Banner by @vase-of-lilies 💋 Dividers by @firefly-graphics

Part I Part II

Thomas buried his hand in her ringlet curls, Y/N could feel the way he gripped her hair as she continued rocking against his bulge and let out a whimper as she passed her swollen clit over again; Tommy gripping her chin with his other hand as their kiss became filthy with saliva falling over their lips as their tongues found each other.

The pain in her cunt from her lust made a whimper escape her lips again as Tommy let the hand that was in her hair trail down to her underwear, slipping his hand under the thin fabric, letting a calloused finger glide through her slick folds as her hips buckled at the feeling.

"Soaked through this flimsy thing", Thomas said, breaking the kiss. "Barely covered under cunt with this thing."

"That's the point", she said, seeing the red lipstick smeared all over his mouth. "It's called a thong."

Tommy brought his hand out from her underwear, letting a finger slid under the string.

"Quite the little invention", he said.

"Want to see something else?" she breathed, pressed her breasts against him.

"What?"

"You want to see how some establishments dance over in America?" she teased with a sultry grin before reaching behind her back and unclipping her bra.

Tommy watched with lustful eyes as she slowly slid down the straps before fully tossing away the bra, her heart was beating out of her chest and a part of her was screaming at her for doing this. But she was high off of the thrill as she felt him reach out to her body, sliding his hands up her stomach before cupping her heavy breasts, thumbing her slowly hardening nipples.

"Show me how they dance, Little Darling..."

Y/N found herself wiping off the smeared red lipstick off her mouth as she looked at herself in the mirror, the smeared mascara; she disregarded her appearance as she continued to wipe down her face free of the makeup before moving to fix her hair and change into her regular clothes since her shift was over.

She realized how close she was to actually having sex with Tommy Shelby, had it not been for the bouncer knocking on the door to check on her, she knew she would have given into the man. She knew she would have let the man have his way with her in that room and a part of her regretted not having let the man do that.

She could still feel the man's hands over her body, his rough thumb rubbing circles on her clit as she shakily rocked and swayed her hips as their lips greedily clung to one another before he drove his finger into her sopping cunt, whispering how soaked she was.

She shook her head, that was a problem for the Y/N in the morning to think about...

Tommy drove his motorcar with Arthur and John chattering away about the club, trying to not replay the events of the private room dance so he wouldn't have a hard-on.

"Tom, Tom", Arthur said, "I swear we need to get a hand in this club."

"The money, the dancers", John continued with a grin. "If expansion is what you want, we need to get this club under our belt."

Tommy raised a brow, he wondered how much that 'expansion' idea was for them or for John to continue to his dancers.

"And here you were against expansion", Tommy mused with a smirk.

"If it means having ladies as fine as them, I'm all for it."

It was the next day as she sat at her table that she contemplated what she had done, sipping her tea as she rubbed her temple. Y/N scolded herself for giving into the Birmingham gangster when she heard a knock at her door, standing up as she tied her robe around her as she went to the foyer of her home, opening to door and see the Devil himself incarnate.

"Quite the transformation", Tommy said as he blew out smoke. "Catholic girl by night, little temptress by night."

"How did you find out where I live?" she hissed, shoving the man inside because of how nosey her neighbors were.

"I'm Thomas Shelby, I know where everyone lives", he said as he walked further into her home.

Y/N felt aggravated that the man showed up, marching after him as she found him making himself at home in her kitchen; he was sitting in one of her chairs, legs slightly spread as he smoked his cigarette, his blue eyes roaming her figure shamelessly.

"Why are you here?" she asked, sitting back in her seat with a glare.

"Do your neighbors know what you do?" he asked, "do they know you dance for men? You dance for me for money?"

She stayed silent and she knew he got his answer as he let out a dark chuckle.

"Of course they don't. No proof of it, right? You can always tell a whore from any other person on the street, but not a stripper. That's what it's called, right?"

"You sound like you enjoy listening to yourself."

"I enjoy few things and that is not one of them."

It was like a game of chess, seeing who had the upper hand in the game as she stared at the man, who was burning his eyes into her.

"At night, you love when I pay you to dance for me. I think we both know last night was quite the dance you gave me."

"I performed a service for you, figured it would a nice way to get a bigger tip from you."

Tommy hummed before putting his cigarette out in her tea cup, pushing himself up out of his seat as he walked over to her. He caged her in the seat, bringing his face close to hers and their breaths mingled as she could smell the nicotine in his breath, smell the aftershave and cologne that he used.

"Last time proved something to me and gave me a thought."

"What was that?" she asked as she felt her heart beating in her throat.

"How much of a whore I can make you be for me when the sun's out?"

With that, he crashed his lips against hers...

TAGLIST

@amanda08319 @crispynutella @neonpurplestars89-blog @forgottenpeakywriter

#peaky blinders #thomas shelby smut #thomas shelby #tommy shelby x reader #peaky blinders x reader #peaky blinders imagine #cillian murphy #chubby reader #x reader #reader insert #cillian murphy x reader #tommy shelby x fem!reader

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eternalbuckley · 3 months ago

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FLEURS 1K CELEBRATION

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ WELCOME TO THE FLOWER STORE, it's closed!

my inbox | navigation | masterlists | taglist

first of all: thank you so so much for 1k followers ahhh!!! i’m so so thankful, words cannot describe how happy i truly am about this. knowing that there’s so many people out there in the world who enjoy my work and things i create. i never thought i’d ever find a place where i feel comfortable enough to share my written works. thank you so much for supporting my work, it means a lot to me!! ♡

rules (please read through them before sending anything in)

› feel free to send in multiple things, just do it separately please. spam my inbox as much as you want!!

› anyone can participate (mutuals, followers, non-followers, anons) but please be patient, as i have many things going on in my private life rn! i’ll try to get everything done as fast as possible but i want to make sure to give everyone the best thing i can create ♡

› i write nsfw and sfw. please check my request rules before requesting, so you can find out what i write for and what i don’t write for. thank you :)

› if i don’t like a scenario, i have the right not to write it! i won’t write any smut/spicy things for luna or neville.

› all my works are 18+

› when is the flower store closed? — 10th september 2024

› all works can be found under — link (will be added soon, the rest of open requests will be worked on soon!)

what am i offering you?

— 🌷 tulips :: i‘ll generate you a random chosen moodboard from my pinterest (6 pictures)

— 🌹 roses :: send me an aesthetic/trope + character i write for and i‘ll create a moodboard (either it will be 6 or 9 pictures)

— 🪻 hyacinths :: send me a character & scenario and i‘ll write a small blurb/drabble/headcanons

(feel free to use one of the following prompt lists, or send me your own scenario! — please specify if they're sfw or nsfw)

— 🌻 sunflowers :: games — fmk, top 3, would you rather (the fandoms are listed at the end)

— 🌸 cherry blossoms :: choose one of my playlists and i‘ll randomly give you five songs

i‘m in heaven. // fairy garden. // cozy vibes. // 🫀. // 🎨🎬🎧. // 🌷🪴🤍.

— 🌼 daisies :: let's talk about a headcanon you have for a character i write for

who am i writing for?

› HARRY POTTER UNIVERSE. mattheo riddle, george weasley, fred weasley, theodore nott, lorenzo berkshire, blaise zabini, pansy parkinson, hermione granger, harry potter, ron weasley, luna lovegood, neville longbottom

› 9-1-1. evan buckley

tv shows/movies you can send in something for the games:

› tv shows: 9-1-1, house of the dragon/game of thrones, the vampire diaries universe, outer banks, peaky blinders, chicago fire, chicago med (until season 5), peaky blinders, grey’s anatomy (currently on season 8), the rookie, bridgerton, the blacklist, billy the kid (2022), maxton hall, the umbrella academy

› movies: harry potter, twilight universe, the hunger games universe, mcu (i'm not up to date in this fandom anymore), scream

just tagging some of my wonderful moots <3 :: @venuslore @nottsangel @oceandriveab @rafetopia @rafesslxt @buckleyx @leona-hawthorne @anawritez-posts @starkeysprincess @runningfrom2am @euphemiaamillais @chenslucy @moremaybank @ghostlyfleur @phefics @rafeandonlyrafe @ervotica @geminibsworld @rubiehart @rafescokewhore @damagdsnow @targaryenluvs @finalgirllx @pizzaapeteer @aligned-starz @theosfav @slytherslvt @saltwaterburns @fairyberkshire @that-bwitch @whorefordean @jjsmarijuana @moon-in-nostalgia @essienoe @axen-gers @buckleyverse

moon/butterflies divider by: xxbimbobunnyxx

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toms-cherry-trees · 3 months ago

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Don't Hold My Hand (I'll Break Your Heart) || Tommy Shelby x Fem OC ~ Ch. 4

Summary: Charlotte realises that she doesn't know her employer as well as she thought she did. Clouded by indecisions, she takes a path that may have unexpected consequences when things take a turn for the worst

Word Count: 5.2k

Warnings: Talks of medical procedures, needles and blood. Mentions of PTSD. Tommy gets violent. No beta reading we die like John

Author’s note: I have NO excuse. Not even I know why I dropped the ball on this, but I will just say that 2024 has been sucker punching me in the face since January 1st and has not given me respite. I am hoping that this time I will be able to post more consistently, but again, who knows with me?

PLEASE LET ME KNOW IF YOU NOTICE ANY GRAMMAR ERRORS

Requested taglist: @call-sign-shark @zablife

《Prev part -

Bright sunlight peeked into the bedroom through the gaps in the curtains, bathing everything in golden warmth. Blackbirds and nightingales chirped in their branches, their cheerful songs mingling with the sounds of the daily bustling of the state; horses neighing in their paddocks, hounds barking at the sight of wild rabbits; the old truck coming up the road bringing fresh meat and groceries for the week. It all sounded so typical, so average, not a toe out of place, nothing out of the ordinary. Except Charlotte.

The first thing she noticed was that the bed under her aching body was not hers. Albeit top quality, the mattress she slept in had obviously been used before; softer around the middle and with a characteristic indent in the exact position where she sat every morning to slip on her stockings and shoes. But the one under her was much firmer and sturdy, and her back had definitely noticed it. The pillows also felt different, as did the sheets. The sun shone on the wrong side, not landing on the bed like she preferred. But it was all forgotten when she noticed a hand clinging to hers, fingers intertwined with her own on a gentle grip.

Her eyes opened abruptly, and she sat up so quickly bright lights danced in her vision. She was used to being awoken in a startle; injured and dying soldiers didn’t wait for her to wash her face and tighten her corset before coming in. But waking up in Tommy’s bed, dressed in only her nightgown and robe and with his hand laced with hers surpassed any startle.

The memories from the last 24 hours flooded her mind like a horror movie. Doctor Keller’s visit, the uncertainty of the wait, the abrupt waking up with Thomas moaning in pain in the dead of the night, and the horrifying discovery of the punctures on his back, crimson blood soaking through gauzes and clothes onto the bed sheets.

The man next to her slept so peacefully, face buried in the pillows and soft snores escaping his lips, one could hardly believe the suffering he had been subjected to just hours prior. The laudanum dosage Charlotte administered should keep him out of it until midday at least, but that didn’t worry her; he definitely looked like he needed that rest.

Carefully, with the same gentleness one would handle a newborn with, Lottie turned him on his side, propping his body with pillows to properly assess the damage. At least he hadn’t bled through his clothes again, but that small relief did little to placate the cold feeling that settled at the bottom of her stomach after she cut off the bandages.

The wounds on his back had already begun to scab, surrounded by near black bruises of various sizes, from his mid back all the way down to the top of his tailbone. The punctures were evenly spaced both sideways and lengthwise, and Charlotte soon realised they were meant to follow the length of his spine. She could not even fathom the pain those must have caused, nerve damage or not.

Charlotte didn’t know how to proceed from there. Every fibre of her being urged her to run to Mrs. Gray, expose Doctor Keller for a charlatan, and let the Peaky Blinders dispose of him as they saw fit. But on the other hand, acting behind his back would surely shatter the feeble bond of trust Lottie and Tommy had developed. It didn’t matter that she only did it with his best interests in mind; he would perceive it as betrayal on her part, and would set back the small but significant progress she had made with him. She had a duty with her patient, but that duty had divided in two widely different roads, both pulling at her with equal strength.

A firm knock on the door interrupted her train of thought. In a panic, she realised it was a quarter past 10 in the morning, much later than the hour in which she usually fetched Tommy’s breakfast tray from the kitchens, a little after 9. A second, much larger panic overcame her as she took note of her state of dress, or rather, undress. She had no proper excuse to be in her nightgown only, and even if she explained that she had spent the night watching over Thomas, it still did not give her reason to look like she had just risen from bed, his bed.

She paced back and forth, debating whether to answer the door or just feign deafness and pretend she wasn’t there. She could not hide there forever, but she much preferred to step out with no witnesses present. And God forbid it was Mrs. Gray on the other side; she held the woman in high esteem, and being found by her in such a compromising situation was mortifying, even if nothing less than honourable had happened.

A third knock urged her to make a decision, and a small, female voice coming from the other side

“Nurse Tindall, are you in there? I’ve brought up the breakfast tray for Mr. Shelby, may I come in?”

Lottie breathed a sigh of relief as she recognised the voice of Ella, a new maid who was as sweet as she was witless. It would not be hard to distract her, as she did anything she was asked to, no matter how stupid the request sounded. Charlotte cleared her throat and walked closer to the door, making deliberate sounds around to appear busy.

“Mr. Shelby is getting dressed, come back later please” She did her best to sound firm in a kind way, not wanting to trigger another of the girl’s crying episodes over feeling herself scolded. But much to her unluckiness, Ella seemed committed to delivering the food, surely not wanting to unleash the cook’s wrath upon her. Peeling a cartful of potatoes surely drivers the lesson home to not let the eggs go cold.

“But I’ve already brought the tray over, and Mrs. Bird will be upset if I go back down with it. May I come in? I promise I won’t look!” Lottie could hear the distress in the girl’s voice; she knew that Ella would not survive long in the house’s service like that.

“I said no, Ella. Mr. Shelby needs his privacy” Her words came a little harsher than she had originally intended, and she could practically see Ella flinching and the wobble of her lower lip. Not wanting to send the maid back down defeated and in tears, she spoke again, a little softer this time “Leave the tray on the side table and I’ll bring it in once we’re finished here”

Lottie waited with bated breath, ears perked up as she heard Ella push aside some ornaments to place the silver tray down, catching even the soft tinkling of saucers and teacups. Her relief lasted only until she heard footsteps going down the stairs, for soon a deeper, slurred voice came from behind her.

“With that level of quick minded resourcefulness, you could work for my company”

Tommy was awake, no doubt aroused from his slumber by her banter with the maid. Charlotte had been certain that the sleeping tinctures would keep him under until at least after lunch, but again, what could half a cup of laudanum do against a man who had been using morphine and opium freely for the best part of the last five years?

Her nurse instincts kicked in and she immediately rushed to his side, taking a motherly stance as she gently brushed hair away from his forehead, discreetly checking for any rise in his temperature; although he felt sweaty, he didn’t seem to be running a fever. Her fingers circled his wrist, counting the steady beats of his heart, and her ears perked up, ready to detect any change in the pattern of his breathing.

“I am not dying, not yet at least” Thomas huffed, in what turned out to be a poor attempt at lightening the severity of the situation. But even then he couldn’t deny he had been left extremely weakened; even opening his eyes appeared to be a struggle, and the dark circles under them cut sharply against the sickly paleness of his complexion.

Charlotte felt grief tugging at her heartstrings at his sight, alongside an overcoming sense of guilt for not having stopped Doctor Keller; she should have trusted her gut and dragged them all out by the ankles the second they kept her from accompanying Thomas through the treatment. Nothing good ever came from things happening behind closed doors. And certainly nothing good could ever come from a treatment that required him to be gagged and held down.

She reached over to the basin to retrieve a damp cloth, gently dabbing away the sweat from Tommy’s temples and brow. His eyes closed again, tongue darting out to moisten his cracked lips. Lottie wanted to ask, she needed a what, a how and a why, but she didn’t want to push him when he looked like that, so miserable and battered. The sight of his back pierced and stabbed, his limp body lying on blood soaked sheets, and the helplessness and vulnerability in his eyes, had been forever engraved in her memory. To see a man like him brought down to that, it made her heart ache.

“Are you hungry?” She asked quietly, swallowing down her other questions and worries to focus first and foremost on his comfort. “I could ask the cook to make you something light if your stomach is upset. Maybe some soup and toast?”

He shook his head, opening one eye just enough to gauge Charlotte’s expression. Just like his aunt’s, there was something unsettling about Thomas’s gaze. While Mrs. Gray looked like she could know all your secrets with just one look, Thomas had a certain determination in his eyes, a glint of mischief added with something that Lottie couldn’t quite pinpoint; but she knew for certain that Mr. Shelby could convince anyone to do his bidding only by staring them down. But she also noticed he possessed the same perennial shadow that all war veterans did; a mark that they all shared and would never fade.

“I suppose asking you for a glass of whiskey and to pass me cigarettes won’t work even now, eh?”

Charlotte had always had more than a few opinions about Thomas’ average diet of eating nothing, but the fact that he felt well enough to joke about it did manage to lighten her spirits. She noticed he kept trying to dampen his lips and his tongue appeared quite parched; with a teaspoon she managed to give him some sips of water, since she didn’t feel confident enough to sit him up just yet.

A pregnant silence hovered in the air, with Charlotte knowing both had things they wanted to say. Her thoughts continued to swirl around aimlessly, torn between rushing straight to Mrs. Gray to tell her everything she knew so far, or to wait to hear the complete story from Tommy’s lips. But would he be willing to tell? Did he remember even, or had the memories been wiped away by the trauma and the pain medicines?

Even if she wished to avoid it forever, she couldn’t. She needed to redo the dressings on his back, and she had learned through experience the way some veterans reacted when their wounds were touched, as if the contact triggered the memories they so desperately tried to bury deep, deep down. And so, she figured she might try while the laudanum still lingered, hoping that the remaining opioids in his system would keep him tame should he lash out.

“Tommy, there’s some wounds left on your back from your…treatment” Calling that medicine left a bitter taste on Charlotte’s mouth, but she couldn’t go and call it torture to his face “I need to bandage them again but I promise to be careful. You need to let me know if anything is bothering you, is that okay?” A part of herself felt she was talking him down like a child, but that had worked before with other veterans in similar situations, and at worse, Thomas would get mad at her, which would be no different than usual.

But much to her surprise, Tommy appeared awfully calm with the information she had just given her, as if the notion of having been poked full of holes didn’t faze him at all. A chill ran down Charlotte’s spine as she began to consider the option that Tommy knew what had been done to him, or worse, that he had willingly submitted to it.

While she gathered her supplies, she noticed some dried blood lingered under her nails from the previous night’s ordeal. The sight of all that blood, gauzes dripping with it, the liquid pooling since the sheets could not soak up any more…She had seen ten times worse over the years in the front, and had faced it all with a sternness that unnerved even her colleagues. Why could she not detach herself this time? Was it because she could not stand the desperate being taken advantage of? Or had she grown attached at last to her insufferable patient?

Suddenly her common sense decided to abandon her. She dropped what she had on her hands and rounded the bed to face Thomas, leaning down until she was eye to eye with him. She had to gauge the truth from him, she needed the story straight so she could put a stop to this.

“Thomas…Thomas do you know what that doctor did to you?” She breathed through her nose once, to keep her voice from faltering “Did he tell you what he did exactly?” She reached to take one of his hands. The previous night the contact had been an act of desperation, and now it bore similar purpose “I don’t know if you remember but last night you woke up and..and you were-”

“Bloodied and in pain? Yes, I remember” The way he said it, with such carelessness as if he were simply saying he woke up thirsty, didn’t sit quite right with Charlotte. Far too calm, even for a man like him. “Doctor Keller warned me that the first couple of nights would be difficult to get by. He told me to rely on the laudanum, but I thought I could toughen it out. I should have listened…the doctor always knows best.”

His dovish words confirmed her worst fears, and Lottie felt her stomach drop to her knees. He knew. He knew everything that had been done to him. How could he not? Thomas Shelby wouldn’t let a doctor put a single finger on him without knowing first what would be done to him.

Her grip on his fingers tightened, and she leaned closer, far closer than their faces had even been before “Tommy, what he’s done to you is inhuman. It’s barbaric. I’m sure men who have been tortured have endured less than what you did yesterday. You cannot let him get away with it, or he will do it again to others. I will tell Mrs. Gray to deal with him, we won’t let him get close to you again”

“No” That time, his hand gripped hers, with such strength that made her fingers ache. “You will not do such a thing. You will leave that man alone, and let him do what he must. Understood?” There, in that moment, Charlotte caught a glimpse of what Tommy used to be like, when he was the man that terrorised Small Heath and had half of Birmingham bending the knee like he were some sort of king. A man who had built an empire from scratch and, rumour had it, ruled it like a tyrant.

“Thomas, look at yourself!” She protested, not allowing herself to be intimidated “Look at what he’s done to you. What treatment can be worth being punctured by needles the length of your hand all down your back? Do you even know what’s been injected?”

“I don’t need to know. All I need it’s for it to work” He had to have lost his mind, That was the only answer as to how Thomas could so blindly trust Keller. That quacksalver had sweet spoken his way into Tommy’s mind, and had used his fear and hopelessness as grounds to plant the seed of hope. He saw Tommy as a drowning man, and appeared before him offering him a raft, which turned out to be only a rotten piece of wood.

“No” Determination laced Lottie’s words “I will not allow this to continue. You have been taken for a fool, Thomas, and it is my duty as your nurse to make you see reason when you can’t for yourself. I know a trickster when I see one, and God knows I’ve seen plenty” She felt anger loaded in her words; but not directed at her patient. Rather directed at Keller, and the dozens of men like him who saw chance for profit in the suffering of the war veterans who had lost everything fighting for their lives “I will not allow that man to set foot here again. I’ll barricade the door myself if I must, and I know Mrs. Gray will agree with me” Charlotte knew that Mrs Gray tried to antagonise her nephew as little as possible, only in extreme circumstances; well, this was definitely one of those.

What happened next took Lottie completely aback. Thomas let go of her hand, but instead gripped her chin, his fingers holding her with such strength that she felt the pain radiate up her jaw. His eyes were pure ice, cold and unforgiving, and he pulled her face down, forcing her to meet his gaze

“You won’t do shit. You will do what you do, what you are paid to do, and nothing more. For everything else, you keep your head down. I believe Polly told you that you would be expected to turn a blind eye for some things; well, this is one of those things. You are not family, you are just a worker, and you do what you are told, eh?”

“But-”

“But nothing” His grip tightened even more, if possible, forcing a whine out of Charlotte’s lips. She had never seen him like this before, not even during her first days in the manor when he did everything in his power to be a nuisance to her and scare her away. He had screamed, he had slammed tables, he had thrown to the wall cups and glasses and trays, but not even once had he laid a hand on her “You do what I say, and nothing more. If you tell Polly, I will fire you on the spot. If you try to interfere with Doctor Keller, things can get very ugly very quickly. Am I clear?”

Charlotte felt fear. For the first time since her arrival to Arrow House, she felt fear. Her heart hammered her ribs and her knees felt weak. This man before her was not the Tommy who had shown weakness just the night before, asking her to keep him company for the night and holding her hand; not even the man who had flipped over a table because she begged him to eat. Lottie recognised in him the first tendrils of the madness proper of someone with nothing left to lose. Tommy saw Keller as his last chance, and he would not let anything or anyone take that chance away. He had become obsessed, and obsession was just a step away from madness.

She nodded at his words, if anything to get Tommy to let go of her face. After a few more seconds of staredown, in which she felt diminished to the size of a mouse, Tommy let her go and laid back down

“Good. Now fuck off. Doctor Keller said that the wounds need to be aired to heal faster, and I want to sleep”

Somehow, Charlotte found enough control of her legs to stand and walk away, tripping on the carpet and crashing against an armchair on her way out. Her heart beat rampantly, the thumping booming on her ears and temples. She held herself until she had closed the double doors behind her, and only then collapsed against the panelled wall, burying her face in her hands. She had been threatened before, plenty of times, by men far too deep in their cups, or their drugs, or in the demons inside their heads.

But never before by a true threat.

She knew as well as any what the Peaky Blinders did, and she knew they had no qualms on the choosing of their victims. And something in the way Tommy said those words, the intensity of his gaze, the strength of his grip, told Charlotte that he wouldn’t doubt acting upon his words should she cross him.

She immediately thought of telling Mrs Gray everything. Every last detail, her position in the house be damned; Thomas could fire her but he could not rid himself of his aunt. With that steely determination Charlotte walked down the stairs, her steps resonating in the emptiness of the house. But that lasted only until she reached the landing. Would Mrs Gray side with her? Or would she let her nephew entertain his false hopes, if only to give him a false sense of happiness? Would she find in the older woman an ally, or would she just waste her time and her job entertaining her sense of justice? After all, just like Thomas said, she was just a worker, not family, and she should not speak above her station.

And yet.

Clinging onto her morals as only support, Charlotte set out to find Mrs Gray and tell her exactly what had happened; it might cause her to lose the best job she had held since the war ended, but at least she would leave that house at peace with her morals. But her mission finished as quickly as it began. She asked Frances the whereabouts of Mrs Gray, and a bucket of ice water was dropped upon her head when she was informed that Mrs. Gray had left to tend business in London and would not return for at least a week. Speaking face to face with her, locked in the privacy of the older woman’s office was one thing. But telephone her all the way to London, and possibly interrupt her affairs to basically snitch on her nephew…

A week. She would have to wait a week. And Charlotte hoped her resolve would last that long.

She felt out of place, wearing her blouses and skirts after spending the best part of half a year in only her nurse uniforms. Lottie sat on the terrace of a fancy French cafe, enjoying an espresso and a small assortment of pastries. She had a few magazines before her, and pen and paper to finally write down those letters she had due for weeks, but she simply could not concentrate, not on a day like that. The bells of a nearby church rang five times; in the blink of an eye two hours of her life had escaped her, for it was a few minutes past three when she sat on that chair, feeling her knees weak and her hands clammy.

After Tommy’s threat, things had gone down as well as one could expect. Charlotte spent the following week walking on eggshells around him, scared to even look him in the eye. Tommy had been a particularly obedient patient, dutifully drinking all his medicines and eating all his meals like he had never done before, but he had once more condemned Lottie to the silent treatment, not giving her more word than the occasional command to bring him something or, more specifically, to leave him alone. She had anxiously awaited the return of Mrs. Gray, hoping his aunt would help him see reason where she had failed so spectacularly.

The showdown between them had surely been heard all through the county, the tone of their argument escalating steadily to the point Charlotte could clearly listen to every word they said, even sitting at the foot of the staircase, her elbows resting on her knees and her thumbs pressing on her brow in hopes of alleviating what had become a chronic headache. Perhaps she had committed a calamitous mistake telling everything to Mrs. Gray. Or perhaps her first big mistake had been taking that job.

When Mrs. Gray finally came down to meet her, she looked absolutely defeated; and Lottie knew right away that she had risked it all for nothing.

Thomas had absolutely refused to back down on his treatment, quoting over and over that Keller said it had to get worse before it got better. He had said horrible things about his aunt and Charlotte, about how they wished him ill and had no desire to see him recover his life because it suited them better to keep him chairbound. Mrs. Gray had let the hurtful words sweep past her like breeze, but Charlotte felt them more like stones thrown to her face, even if they were just lies.

In the end, Lottie had not been fired, her job position saved by Mrs Gray’s resilience to not let go of the first caretaker who had made it past the three month mark. She did however insist that Lottie cash in all the days off she was owed, plus an extra paid day on the house. That gave her exactly a week of holiday, and therefore, would keep her away the day Doctor Keller was scheduled to come for his next appointment.

When she boarded the car that would take her to the station that Sunday morning, wearing her navy blue coat and her prettiest hat, a part of her wondered if she should leave for good; mail in her resignation and have someone else pick up the rest of her belongings. She could not envision what future she could have there now, as her relationship with Tommy had surely been permanently and irreparably damaged by their rift. He would never trust her completely again, and she couldn’t stand by idly and watch him pay himself into an early, horrific death.

Not wishing to spend her week in good old Birmingham, Lottie decided her salary allowed her to take her time off in London. She found lodging on a small bed and breakfast near Camden, and put her time to good use, hoping to keep herself distracted. She got new books to read, dined in a different place each night, and finally gave her wardrobe a much overdue refresh. But she could never shake off the knowledge that, each day that passed, was a day closer to Doctor Keller returning to Tommy’s side. It remained a perpetual nagging feeling on the back of her mind. She could not go a single day without something reminding her of it.

Charlotte felt her blood boil whenever she thought about how many men had been tricked before Thomas. Perhaps if she found one or two who had undergone the same treatment, with obviously less than satisfactory results, they could help her convince Tommy to abandon before it was too late. Hoping against hope, she set aside money to post a few small, as inconspicuous as possible advertisements, avoiding directly mentioning the doctor by name. At worst, it would all end in a few wasted coins and nothing else.

Saturday she spent in a continuous fright, obsessively checking the hour everywhere she could. By 3 pm, she knew that awful man and his equally awful aids would be crossing the threshold. By 6, she figured they would be done cleaning up whatever gruesome mess they had left behind, with Tommy tucked in bed, absolutely knocked out by double and triple doses of opioids.

She couldn’t find sleep that night, tossing and turning until the blankets were tangled in her legs. Even through emotional exhaustion her mind refused to quiet down. Was Tommy sleeping well? Was he comfortable? Would he wake again in the dead of the night in agony and alone, with no one to wipe his brow or change the sheets? Charlotte tried and failed again and again to force the thoughts out of her mind, but they refused to budge; even if she chastised herself for caring so deeply, she couldn’t help herself.

Sunday she spent no better, and after a short walk she decided to return to her room and give herself a lazy day, rearranging her suitcase and indulging in one of her new books alongside some cookies she bought nearby. She wasn’t expected back on the manor until Tuesday morning, yet she kept all her belongings packed and ready to go fleeing out the door.

After a humble dinner in a nearby pub, Lottie returned to her lodgings, deciding to indulge herself with a long bath, taking advantage of having a private bathroom. But just as she had crossed the entrance, a bellboy came to meet her, telling her there was a call for her on the front desk.

Puzzled, Lottie followed the boy, wondering who could be calling her at that hour, since no one knew her whereabouts. Trepidation creeping up her spine, she picked the apparatus, trying to ignore the uncomfortable fluttering in her gut

“Hello?”

“Charlotte” Mrs Gray's voice resounded from the other side. Despite the familiarity, the knowledge that it was her calling didn’t reassure her one bit. A woman like her didn’t call at that hour to talk about the weather

“Mrs Gray, is everything okay?” She didn’t even bother to ask why or how she had Charlotte’s current address. They knew everything about everyone; they probably knew more about Charlotte than she herself did.

“No, things are not okay. Doctor Keller came yesterday; only God knows what he did, but Tommy didn’t wake up until today after midday, and he didn’t let me or any of the maids touch him or feed him”

Charlotte sighed, sensing immediately where the conversation was heading “Mrs. Gray, if you think that I can get past his thick head-”

“No” The older woman cut short “I don’t think you can, and that’s not why I called. Around dinner I went to check on him, try to get him to eat. Force feed him if I must. And I found him” Charlotte could hear her sigh slowly “I found him unconscious. So pale he was grey, laying in a pool of sweat. He had vomited too, I think. Couldn’t even wake him with a slap to the back”

Charlotte’s eyes widened, and her heart raced at the information she received, immediately noticing how bad the situation had turned “Mrs Gray, that is very serious. He needs to be seen by a doctor! Did you-”

“I called the ambulance. They’ve taken him right away. It’s the hospital I’m calling from. The doctor says he has an infection and that it’s reaching his blood”

Charlotte swallowed. Infections of the blood never had a good prognosis in the field, not even in the hospitals. Yet she clung to false hope when she asked her next question

“Did he…did he say it was bad?”

The pause that followed seemed to stretch for days, but that wasn’t half as bad as hearing Mrs. Gray voice crack for the first time

“They say he’s likely to die”

#marsie writes #tommy shelby imagine #tommy shelby x reader #tommy shelby x you #tommy shelby x oc #tommy shelby x fem oc #tommy shelby fanfic #tommy shelby series #tommy shelby one shot #charlotte tindall #female oc #tommy shelby #thomas shelby #peaky blinders #don't hold my hand (i'll break your heart)

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zodiyack · 1 year ago

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Better For Me

Pairings: Tommy Shelby x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Angst, swearing, smoking, plotting

Words: 684

Request: Can you please do one for Tommy Shelby, where the reader is someone that he’s been pining over for as long as he can remember, but she’s never returned his feelings, she wants better for herself and desperately wants to escape Birmingham to have one, once he finds her plan he comes up with a scheme so that she will have no choice but to stay there with him (you can decide what that trap is)

Author’s Note: So I don’t exactly like the thought of her being 100% forced against her will, so I changed it a little bit to where she does indeed have feelings for him but never once said anything because she knew once she got involved with a gangster, her life would never be the same, and she wants better for herself. Hes also a little ooc.

YALL IVE EDITED THIS TWICE BECAUSE FUCKING MOBILE TUMBLR- DECIDED TO PUT MY ENDING IN THE MIDDLE OF THE BEGINNING.

Masterlist | Peaky Blinders Masterlist | Cillian Murphy Masterlist

Taglist: @simonsbluee, @stuckysslag, @psychkunox, @marquelapage, @i-love-superhero @captivatedbycillianmurphy, @stydia-4-ever, @jenepleurepasbaby, @peakyxtommy, @babylooneytoonz, @matth1w, @redspaceace-writes, @darling-i-read-it, @sebastianstanslefteyebrow, @fandom-puff

Her bags were stuffed to bursting with her belongings. She frantically packed the last of it in a barely spacious case. A knock at her front door scared her as it broke her from her hurry. She wasn't surprised when she saw the Blinder on her doorstep, only nervous.

"You're packing?" His cold voice inquired.

"Yes." She responded simply. Y/N avoided giving him too much detail. After all, he was who she was running from.

"Why can't you stay?"

She sighed heavily. "We've been over this Thomas. I need something else. I want a better life. I don't want to be in Birmingham forever." It was part of the truth. Really, she couldn't be around the violence, the theft, the gambling, the Peaky Blinders. Tommy.

She winced slightly. "No, I need to do this myself."

"I'll take you places. We can explore the world together, love." He chuckled lightly. "I promise."

Her words seemed to set him off. "Why? Can't I do anything to convince you to stay?"

"No!" She couldn't stop herself before she shrieked out the word. Covering her mouth in shock, she collected herself before speaking again. "I'm leaving, Thomas, and that's that."

"At least tell me why, love." He persisted. His hand reached for Y/N's. He definitely noticed something was wrong when she swiped her hand away. "Is it because of me?"

Yes.

"No, it's not because Of anyone! I just can't be here anymore. Tommy, I want to experience more than this place. I want a better life. We've been over this before, a thousand times." She huffed as she stuffed the rest of the items into her bag. “Please, just leave me to finish this up. I’ll stop by before I leave.” She turned away and waited for him to leave, the door clicking shut behind him.

When Tommy went outside, he spotted a copper doing his usual patrol. He nodded at him, gaining his attention. “I need your assistance.”

“What is it Mr. Shelby?”

He lit a cigarette, looking off into the distance. "Y/N L/N. If she tries to leave, prevent her in whatever way possible. Keep her alive, and inside of Birmingham." Tommy ordered, "by order of the Peaky Blinders. Alright?"

The copper nodded, "Yes Mr. Shelby. I'll make sure to it that everyone knows."

The door of the betting shop slammed shut after being aggressively swung open. Heels clicked angrily against the floor. Tommy didn't even have to lift his head to know who it was.

"You fucking bastard. You told them to keep me here?!" She shouted. Her brows were furrowed and her expression looked full of rage. "You fucking asshole!"

"You wouldn't listen to me." He kept his composure.

"I was leaving because of you!"

The truth shocked him, but he didn't let it show. Instead, Tommy stared at her with a stone facade. "I love you."

She shook her head in disbelief. "I know, Thomas. You've made it clear. You've made it clear for the past five years of our life. But I don't want that. Not for me, I need better."

"Better?" He tsked. "I could give you everything."

"That's the thing, Tommy! You're involved in so much, even being friends with you and your family, I worry for my life. Your morals, they make me wish I didn't feel this way about you. My morals, are what are telling me I can better my life. They are telling me to leave rather than get involved in this kind of life."

"Well, now you can discard those morals. Stay with me. Besides, it's not as though you have much choice." He quirked a brow, referencing the whole reason she was there in the first place.

Y/N rolled her eyes and turned around, clicking back to the door. She stopped in front of it with a pause. "I may love you, Tommy. But even if you make me stay, I will never get involved with you."

"Even if you make me stay..." She turned her head to him. "Not now," she faced the door again, holding onto the handle with a tight grip, "not ever."

#Tommy shelby x reader #thomas shelby x reader #tommy shelby #cillian murphy #cillian murphy x reader #thomas shelby #imagine #peaky blinders x reader #peaky blinders #reader insert #x reader #zodiyack #peaky blinder imagine

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megalony · 1 year ago

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Where Were You

This is another Thomas Shelby (Peaky Blinders) imagine, requested by the lovely @neonkiwi I hope this is what you were looking for. Any comments and requests would be lovely.

Masterlist

Summary: Tommy takes care of his pregnant wife when she isn’t well, but he isn’t there when something happens.

Enjoy.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Thank you," Forcing a smile on her lips, (Y/n) nodded at the man who placed down another stack of papers beside her on the table before he wandered off towards the black board on the wall to change the tally.

Yet more ledgers and bets for (Y/n) to write down in the leather book sprawled out in front of her. The book which only (Y/n) was allowed to write in for the time being because Tommy thought she 'had the best hand-writing' and the book needed to be eligable and easy to read and follow. He had been against (Y/n) helping out in the betting shop work until she showed she was more than efficient writing neat but fast, taking notes and adding and making up the bets, winnings and losses.

There wasn't much Tommy could deny (Y/n) and when Polly and Ada were involved in the business, he could hardly begrudge giving his wife a job role too and letting her help.

But this was where he drew the line and (Y/n) knew it. He didn't want (Y/n) getting involved with the Blinders. She went to all the family meetings, he told her what deals he was planning to make and who they were dealing with, (Y/n) could know everything and anything, he just didn't want her involved. Much like Polly, she knew what they were doing but she left the men to it.

With a sigh, (Y/n) rubbed her hand across her temple and tried to ignore the building headache forming behind her eyes as she looked down at the numbers that were almost bluring before her eyes.

A gasp escaped her lips and her hands furiously grappled with the stack of papers beside her when John slammed a book down on the table, knocking a stale coffee cup flying and spilling the contents across the pages.

"John! Honestly, can't you be careful?" (Y/n) chided as she swatted the coffee from the pages and tried wafting them in the air so they didn't smudge. She couldn't afford to go and ask someone to re-write all of those pages over again for her to copy down into the book. It would set them back hours which they didn't have and bets could be lost.

"Sorry," His shoulders slumped and his lips curled down around the cigarette between them in a way of apology.

Gathering the book and the papers in her arms, (Y/n) stood up from her seat and walked round the table.

The booming voices shouting out bets, calling out names and stakes and the ultimate rush of adrenaline was too much for (Y/n). She couldn't hear her own thoughts in the back room and it was fuelling her headache to the point she was ready to leave which she didn't want to do.

She held the papers close to her chest, curving them awkwardly over her protruding stomach while she weaved around the workers and headed over to Tommy's office. The office was still adjoined to the betting room but it had a wall, window and door to block out the noise and it was significantly quieter in there. It just meant that (Y/n) wouldn't get as much work transcribed when she was in the same room as her husband.

He served as a great distraction.

"Alright, love?" Tommy's low voice curled around a cigarette chomped tightly between his teeth and a puff of smoke swirled around his hair, distorting his features for a second or two.

"Yeah, can I work in here for a bit?"

"Course," Tommy was already up and out of his desk chair which he motioned towards with a quirked lip and a raised brow. It wouldn't be fair to make (Y/n) sit on the sofa with papers scattered on the floor and the book on her lap when she could take his seat at the desk for a while.

A wave of ease rushed through (Y/n) the moment she sat down and felt Tommy's hands rubbing up and down her bare arms. He had the cigarette clasped between his fingers and the smoke drifted through her nose and sent chills down her spine. (Y/n) didn't smoke often but if she couldn't smell the tobacco she started to panic. It was a scent she associated with Tommy, even when they were in bed or in the bath, he still had that lingering smell of smoke about him.

(Y/n) spread her papers about the desk and got started writing them into the book in her neatest penmanship while Tommy sat down on the desk on her left. He was close enough that her arm brushed his thigh every time she turned a page or moved some paper around, but it was comforting.

Every now and then, (Y/n) rested her hand on his upper thigh as he read through some paperwork and after a while, she leaned her cheek on his leg when she took a short break. Her head was as cloudy as the room was with Tommy's smoke and it was making it hard to focus on what she was trying to write.

Her uneasy headache, coupled with the tension in her stomach from the baby made (Y/n) wish time would go faster so they could go home.

Wordlessly, (Y/n) reached out for Tommy's hand that was planted on the desk near her papers, and pressed his palm against her stomach when their baby started to wriggle. She could see him smiling out the corner of her eye but he didn't say anything. He just kept his hand pressed where it was, smoothing his thumb over her stomach in a calming motion that made her feel a little better.

"Bathroom break," (Y/n) mumbled quietly, throwing her pen down on the table as she took a moment to straighten up in her chair and click her spine back into place.

Tommy leaned over to kiss her temple and his hand moved to the small of her back as she walked past him before she headed out the room.

There was a small toilet at the back of the betting room and it was the most convinient when (Y/n) didn't have the time or patience to wander through the house and up the stairs to the bathroom. The toilet was poxy, the room was barely five foot wide and (Y/n) had to wiggle round the door to get into the room and be able to shut it properly behind her.

Even in the small toilet the noises in the betting room overpowered her ears. The loudness, close proximity and stressful atmosphere never used to play on (Y/n)'s nerves until she was pregnant.

A shockwave rattled through (Y/n) and all the air got caught in her lungs when she looked down.

Blood.

Why was she bleeding? There shouldn't be any blood in her underwear like this. A few drops in the beginning of her pregnancy, sure that was normal and nothing to worry about but (Y/n) didn't even get that. From the moment she found out she was pregnant, the thought and sight of blood had gone from her mind.

As if on cue, a small cramp twinged in the side of her stomach when the baby wriggled.

A tightness pulled around her lungs and squeezed her chest until she was barely breathing anymore, gasping for small streaks of air through dry lips. But (Y/n) managed a deep breath when the door suddenly screeched as it swung open and her wide, doe eyes locked with John.

"Shit! I- sorry, sorry I should have knocked!" John's hand tightened around the door handle and he snapped his eyes closed as he went to shut the door again. All of them seemed to forget that the lock on the door was broken and no one bothered to knock and check if it was in use or not.

"Can you get Tommy for me?"

"Wh- why?" The unease in John's voice was clear and he kept the door open just a crack so he could hear (Y/n) but couldn't see anything. He didn't want to go get his big brother because he would not be happy with John for this mistake.

"Please?" The pleading in her voice was evident because John shut the door and scampered off immediately.

"Learn some manners and fucking knock next time!" Tommy slapped his hand against the back of John's head, knocking his cap off into his hands before he bypassed his little brother and walked out the office.

He stormed passed the tables, nudging men out the way until he reached the back where the toilet was. A slither of worry rattled through his frame at the thought of why (Y/n) needed him. John didn't know, all he said was (Y/n) didn't seem well and wanted him to go to her but that could mean any number of things. She could have been sick, she could have slipped in that tiny fucking room, she could feel unwell, anything and everything rattled through his mind.

"Love, it's me. What's up?" Tommy carefully pushed the door open, being mindful not to bash it into (Y/n)'s legs before he knelt down on the floor in front of her.

His eyes cast down when (Y/n) pointed at her underwear hanging around her legs and he gulped at the sight of the blood. That wasn't a good sign. When he looked back up, he saw tears streaking down her face that had lost all its colour and she was biting her thumb out of anxious habit.

"Okay... let's get you in the house and Pol will go get the midwife. Hey, no tears," Reaching out, Tommy brushed his thumb against (Y/n)'s cheek and swiped away a stray tear. "You'll be fine."

(Y/n) let Tommy help her up and she bound her arms around his waist, burying her face in his shirt, inhaling his cologne that always calmed her nerves. She didn't dare look at anyone as Tommy guided her back through the room towards the main part of the house. She kept her eyes screwed shut and her face hidden as Tommy's arms tightened around her waist and shoulders, guiding her through and shielding her from any prying eyes.

He could be right, she might be fine, after all she wasn't exactly in any pain. Her head felt fuzzy but that was normal and the baby was moving around like a trooper, showing that they were okay. Maybe she had just been working a little too hard recently.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Rubbing his damp hair with a towel, Tommy sauntered out the bathroom and walked back towards the bedroom, surprised to find the bedside lamp turned on, illuminating the room in a deep golden glow. He couldn't stop the sigh from passing through his lips when he looked around the room and his eyes landed on his wife stood to the side near the wardrobe.

"What do you think you're doing?"

(Y/n) turned on her heels, coiling her arms to her chest as a small, sugary sweet smile broke out on her face when she looked over at her husband. His hair was stuck up at all angles after he'd just had a wash and he was wearing nothing but a pair of boxer shorts. Showing off the white and baby pink scars, the black tattoos and the tense, taut muscles. But what her eyes focused on most was the quirk of his lip showing he was trying to fight off a smile.

He only smiled around (Y/n).

"Nothing,"

"Then get back in bed." Tommy clicked his finger and pointed over towards the bed as he threw the towel on the chair in the corner and folded his arms over his chest.

"Can't I come with you, please?"

A grin broke out on Tommy's face and for a few seconds, she thought he might agree. He stalked towards her like a predator slowly advancing on its prey until his hands were gripping her hips tightly and his eyes danced up and down her figure. Noticing that she was only wearing one of his button up shirts that was halfway undone, no bra or underwear on beneath.

The grin stayed on his face even as he slowly started to walk (Y/n) backwards until the back of her knees hit the bed and he carefully nudged her down until she was laying on the bed. He hovered above her, stood between her legs and leaned down until his abdomen was pressing against her bump and his nose was ever so slightly brushing against hers.

"No."

"Tommy-"

"Bedrest means you stay in bed, and you rest. What makes you think I'd let you come back to work?"

He could see the sorrow building up behind her eyes and even though it would usually crumble Tommy's hard persona, this time it didn't. The midwife had instructed bed rest and Tommy was going to ensure that it happened. He wasn't having (Y/n) come back down to the betting room and overwork herself or be around all the idiots he had working for him.

No way was Tommy going to have (Y/n) overdo it and find her crying in the toilet again or collasped down on the floor. He wasn't taking any risks with her or the baby. They had been lucky the midwife said it was only high blood pressure and stress that caused the bleeding two weeks ago.

"I'm bored Tommy. I can sit in the office with you and do the books, it isn't hard or tiring, please? I'll still be resting, I'll be sat down all day."

(Y/n) had managed two weeks stuck in their bedroom and she didn't know how much longer she could last. Two more months of this was going to kill her off and no one was listening to her. Polly and Ada agreed with the midwife and Tommy wasn't letting anyone else come up and visit her and no one was going to dare go against Tommy in favour of (Y/n) working.

She wouldn't even mind if he just brought the books up here for her to write in, it would give her something to do up here all day.

A groan passed through (Y/n)'s lips and Tommy swallowed it up, kissing and nibbling on her lip until she was lightheaded. When he mumbled 'no' against her lips, (Y/n) could of cried if he didn't continue to kiss her like he was trying to steal the life from her.

"Can you bring the book up here then and I'll transcribe all the bets in, please?"

"Nope. You can have any book you want to read, I'll bring you anything, but you ain't working and that's that. Now be a good girl and stay in bed, I've got to get dressed and go."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Shedding his cap and jacket, Tommy looped them on the hook by the door before he kicked off his shoes and undid the suspenders on his shoulders. He could barely see straight with how tired he felt and it had taken a lot of effort to scrub the blood from his face, hands and neck and change his clothes before coming home. He had taken the time to get the blood from beneath his fingernails too.

He didn't want to bring anything from the dark side of work back home to (Y/n). Whenever he came home to her, he was as clean and tidy as he was when he walked out the door.

His feet barely picked up to trudge up the stairs and he flicked the landing light on as he passed, needing some sort of brightness to wake him up because the darkness was calling his name. Begging for him to sleep and drift off into the dark corners of his mind.

He could feel a smile pulling at his lips when he reached the bedroom. All he wanted was to wrap his arms around (Y/n) and pull her into his chest, never to let her go again.

With his hand on the doorhandle, Tommy barely pushed the door open before something launched his way and had him ducking down, stumbling into the doorframe to be out of the firing line.

"Fucking Christ (Y/n)! What are you doing?!"

Turning to look behind him, Tommy felt his heart beating out of his chest as his eyes landed on a book strewn halfway down the hall behind him. She had thrown a book at him. A fucking book, and he didn't know why. What had he done to warrant that?

He kissed her before he left this morning, in fact he did more than that and she had been smiling tiredly when he left for work. He even sent Polly round this afternoon to check on her and make sure she was alright because he knew she was still struggling with bedrest. So why was she throwing things at him when he had barely walked through the door? Surely he hadn't forgotten anything, today wasn't an important or special day for any reason.

With a deep breath, Tommy stood back up to his full height and stepped into the room, his eyes focused on the bed but (Y/n) wasn't there.

A gurgling cry caught his attention and his wild blue eyes darted round until they landed on his wife. The one thing in his life that he couldn't live, breathe or think without.

She was on the floor.

Tommy tripped over his feet to get over to (Y/n) but he couldn't breathe when he reached her.

(Y/n) was laid on her side on the carpet, her legs curled up to her stomach that was hidden in one of his dark grey button up shirts which she had been wearing a lot recently. Her hair was strewn about all around her, fallen out of a messy bun long ago. One arm was coiled to her stomach and the other was stretched out in front of her clearly from when she had thrown the book towards him. Every part of her was trembling.

But it was the blood that got Tommy's attention. Her exposed thighs were caked in blood, both dried and new and it was soaked into the carpet beneath her. And when he dared to look up at the bed, he saw splatters of blood there too like one of the crime scenes he made his Blinders clean up.

"Fuck- oh shit. Love what's happened? Come on, talk to me."

A burning cry wrenched against the back of (Y/n)'s throat when she felt Tommy's arms cocooning around her. It felt so much better when he lifted her up and took her weight from her, he let her lean into his chest and held her up. Half of her body had gone numb from laying on the floor for so long.

She buried her face in his shirt but slammed her fist into his shoulder to hurt him like she had been hurt. Tommy took the few punches that followed, he tightened his chest and stayed still, letting her vent out her frustrations and he took the horrid scream she errupted against his chest.

"W-where, were you?" (Y/n) sobbed through her words and dug her nails into Tommy's shoulder, begging him to hold her tighter so she knew this wasn't a dream or a mirrage.

"Sweetheart I've been at work, tell me what's happened, please." The desperation in his voice was clear and the agony rattled through into (Y/n)'s chest.

He had been at work, where he had been all day since he left over twelve hours ago. He told (Y/n) he would be home late tonight but he would send Polly round to check on her and she had been okay with that. Why had things suddenly changed like this? He had been in the office until the afternoon and then he had been out on the streets for hours clearing up some business and getting rid of a few loose ends.

"My water broke a-and the blood... Tommy it hurts! I- I couldn't- I tried calling but someone unhooked the phone and..."

The moment the blood started to pool between her legs, (Y/n) tried ringing the office to get hold of someone, anyone who could pass the message along to Tommy that he needed to come home urgently. It rang twice and on the third attempt someone answered before unhooking the phone so no more calls could get through. Then when (Y/n) tried to move, she collapsed on the floor and her phone unplugged from the wall and she was left alone and defenceless.

She had been waiting in agony for Tommy to come home.

Tilting his head down, Tommy pressed his lips against her hair which soaked up the few tears starting to fall from his eyes. He breathed in her scent to stop himself from panicking and slowly swayed them side to side as he held her closer to his heart. Feeling (Y/n) sobbing into his shirt that she was clenching so tightly in her fists that she was about to rip through the material.

Why had no one answered her calls?

Why did no one come and get him? He could have been here hours ago if someone had bothered to hear his wife's calls.

"Love I- I'm so sorry. Let's get you on the bed and I can call the midwife, okay?"

Tommy didn't wait for an answer, he knelt up on the floor and hoisted (Y/n) carefully into his arms bridal style. They couldn't stay sitting on the floor like this and he needed to get her comfortable so he could plug the phone back in and call the midwife- and aunt Pol- and get them both here now.

He couldn't waste anymore time.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Turning her head to the left, (Y/n) buried her face in Tommy’s chest, smothering a sob in his shirt as she wished this would end soon. When both Polly and the midwife first arrived, both had been in agreement that Tommy should wait downstairs.

(Y/n), however, was not in agreement.

She wanted Tommy by her side, she wanted his arms around her, his lips on her flushed skin and his soft words in her ear. He promised to keep them safe, he couldn't do that from downstairs or waiting outside the door and he was in full agreement. He wasn't going anywhere without (Y/n).

Her skin was blotched red and dotted with sweat, her body was burning up like she was sitting on a coal fire and she couldn't feel a thing below the waist.

Tommy, however, felt like all he could smell, see and focus on was blood.

The horrid smell was burning his nostrils and flooding the front of his mind and when he looked around the room, it was everywhere when it should be nowhere. There shouldn't be more than a few streaks of blood during this process that was supposed to be magical and heartwarming, not heart-wrenching and life threatening.

The blood on the carpet was dried and as black as the night sky and Tommy was already adamant that he was ripping that carpet up and replacing it when this was all over. The bedsheets were stained, (Y/n)'s legs were smeared pink from the midwife trying to clean the blood away that reappeared again just a few minutes ago. It was back under Tommy's fingernails from holding and moving (Y/n) around on the bed. He hated it.

Tommy pressed his hand to (Y/n)’s neck, kissing the top of her head repeatedly to try and calm her down because he could do little else but provide support.

(Y/n) tightened her hand around his own as she moved so she was leaning back against the pillows instead of Tommy. She could feel Polly dabbing at her neck and forehead with the ice-cold water she had just retrieved from the bathroom. She tried to scream but it came out rather defeated from the lack of energy and the searing pain.

“H-how much longer?” There was such a pleading tone to (Y/n)’s voice as she looked over at the midwife who pursed her lips.

“Not much longer. The head will be born soon.” She ran her hand up and down (Y/n)’s thigh to try and calm her down. “Come on now, another push for me.” (Y/n) did as asked, pressing her chin into her chest as she snapped her eyes closed, trying to ignore the pain that was consuming her but it didn’t work very well. She wanted this to be over, she wanted their baby to be delivered right now or for this to wait another two months so everything would be alright.

It wasn't supposed to happen like this.

(Y/n) was supposed to be on bed rest for another two months, one month in the very least, before they even had to think about labour. She had wanted Tommy here when it started and for things to go smoothly and to have a beautiful healthy baby in her arms. This was too early for that fantasy to become reality.

Tommy kept his eyes on the cream coloured sheet that had been placed beneath (Y/n)’s lower half but his nostrils flared and his jaw locked when he saw how it still started to get coated in blood.

“Tommy…”

“Shh, it’s alright love. You’ll be fine.” Tommy hushed, pressing his lips to her forehead as he brushed a few strands of hair behind her ear. She interlocked their hands together as her other hand pressed to her stomach, wishing the pain would go away.

“Push again for me, the head’s almost born.”

Tommy hooked his arm around (Y/n)’s waist to help her sit up, his other hand still interlocked with her own. He let her lean against his chest as (Y/n) both moaned and screamed at the agony that was tearing through her muscles. Letting out a sharp breath, (Y/n) closed her eyes as she buried her face into Tommy’s neck, feeling him muttering praise against the top of her head.

“Okay, the head’s born.” The midwife reached over for one of the towels resting near Tommy’s leg, not daring to look at him when she heard his sharp breath at seeing the blood on her hands.

(Y/n) started to push again on the next contraction like Mary advised but she felt like she was becoming lightheaded. Tommy kept his hand entwined with hers but moved his arms so they were wrapped around her waist, holding her to his chest. He could feel (Y/n)'s free hand moving up to grip his arm and it made him tremble from how badly she was shaking against him and he hated it.

"Hey, you stay with me, alright? Almost there sweetheart." Tommy's lips stayed pressed to the top of her head but he shook her a little when he felt her wavering against him. She was close to passing out.

"You've done it, you've done it." Polly gripped (Y/n)'s arm and sat down on her other side on the bed, shaking her like Tommy had when (Y/n)'s eyes rolled to the back of her head for a second before she seemed to come back around again.

"Good girl," Those two words sent (Y/n)'s heart alight and made her want to smile but all she could do was nuzzle into her husband, hoping everything would stop now. It didn't seem to sink in with (Y/n) that she was still pushing and the afterbirth came swiftly.

Tommy handed the midwife another towel and she nodded in thanks, gently wrapping it around the tiny newborn. after doing a few checks, she motioned the small bundle towards Tommy, silently asking him to take the newborn but she reeled back when he shook his head. A definite 'no' angrily spat through his lips and he looked at his aunt instead who took the hint.

He wasn't holding his baby until (Y/n) was stable and alright, he couldn't let go of her in case something happened. It felt as if letting go of her would cause her to slip away from him and Tommy couldn't handle that.

His heart hammered away in his chest as he watched Polly take the tiny bundle into her arms, a breathless smile on her tear-drenched face. She quietly mouthed 'girl' at Tommy before she started to rock the small bundle side to side.

“Alright miss.” The midwife hushed soothingly, rattling through her bag before retrieving a small clear glass bottle and a needle. She injected a fair amount of what Tommy guessed was clotting medication into (Y/n)'s lower stomach.

Tommy bit down on his tongue to stop himself from crying or shouting or simply exploding when (Y/n) groaned quietly. Her back arched up from the bed and her head pressed bruisingly into his shoulder but he didn't care. Carefully, Tommy sat (Y/n) forward so he could move around behind her and lean back against the pillows. He sat back against the pillows and headboard and slowly lowered (Y/n) back so she was leaning against his chest, laid between his spread legs.

This was how they laid thousands of times at night, (Y/n) between his legs wrapped up in his embrace like she was a child needing comfort. This way Tommy could kiss her head and keep his arms around her chest and give her the comfort she was seeking.

The midwife gave (Y/n) another injection in her elbow and then started to place rags dipped in ice water over (Y/n)'s neck, wrists and stomach to help cool her down so she didn't fall into a fever.

Time seemed to disappear from them and Tommy wondered if he had slipped into a trance and for how long until he suddenly felt (Y/n) relax in his arms. Whatever the midwife had given her seemed to have done some good, she wasn't trembling against him or moaning in agony and he knew she was still awake which was another good thing.

"No stitches required but she's lost a lot of blood. I'm going to call for a doctor, she might need to go to hospital for a transfusion and fluids and it would be safe for baby to be checked over at hospital. For now, they're both stable."

Tommy refrained from rolling his eyes. The amount of blood he'd seen (Y/n) lose was enough to bring the dead back to life. She needed blood, Hell Tommy would give her pints of his own blood if they matched and it meant she would get better. He knew she wasn't going to be impressed about going to hospital but he needed her to get better and recover.

But for now he could relax a little and let down the guard he had built up to keep himself contained and in check. (Y/n) wasn't on the verge of death, she wasn't in immediate danger.

As if a light had gone off in his head, Tommy looked over at Polly and let his gaze fall down on the bundle in her arms.

Surely two months early meant their baby girl was going to have some sort of complications or issues. Tommy could see already that she was tiny, she wouldn't even measure to the size of his lower arm and the clothes they had clearly weren't going to fit her. But she was breathing, she was whimpering and moving and that was more than he could have asked for in this situation.

"Pol," Ticking his head, Tommy looked down at (Y/n) before back to his aunt who got his silent request and leaned closer to the couple.

She was gentle when she slipped the baby into (Y/n)'s trembling arms, moving the towel back so they could see her face and the newborn could have skin to skin contact with (Y/n).

Tilting his head down, Tommy rested his chin on (Y/n)'s shoulder and moved his hand so he could delicately brush his finger over his newborn's cheek.

"She's beautiful."

#tommy shelby #tommy shelby imagine #tommy x reader #tommy shelby x reader #thomas shelby #thomas shelby imagine #imagine #the peaky blinders #the peaky blinders imagine

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simp-ly-writes · 7 months ago

Text

Betting on Hearts

Cross-over: Contemporary! Peaky Blinders x The Gentlemen (2024)

Pairing: Edward "Eddie" Horniman x afab!Shelby!Reader,

Summary: Being the main face to the (legal*) Shelby Business Empire, you too dabble with the less than legal side when prompted to (against your Brother's wishes). So when a certain Duke and Glass Family start stirring things up on your doorstep, you decide to seduce the duke into compliance but maybe, Eddie had the same idea for you too...

Warnings: 5000~ words, depictions of blood, overprotective siblings, emotional manipulation (seduction), reader is a bit... much. Probably some other tags that I am forgetting

A/N: more notes later.

Masterlist | Taglist Request | read-through and edited.

↳ The Shelby empire was dominant in many industries and with you being among the middle children, just behind your three older brother's, you mainly took to the newer parts of the business but you of course wrangled your way to the darker sides as well no matter how much your family protested (except for Polly, she openly cheered you on before her untimely passing)

↳ You were the Queen of import/export, the face to the Gin company and co-owner to your new digital sports betting app, your younger sister Ada had stepped in to help you manage it all. Using the earnings from the gambling you put it towards the branding and advertisements of your other departments and the greater Shelby corporation

↳ Arthur, the spirited yet your mentally-barley-afloat brother as he drank half the gin you supplied to his section of the business or found himself high as a kite while insisting on keeping your hands as clean as possible, coming with you on every assignment. Arthur maintained his "Garrison" bars across the country, moving on to establish high dining and was currently trying to stick the Shelby name into hotel management.

↳ John, a man that carried a huge heart with his irresistible charm and humor. He (while trying to convince the youngest, Finn to join him) managed the productions and manufacturing of each one of your industries. Supplying the parts, the bottles and ingredients, alongside the construction materials for every one of Arthur's expansions alongside supplying for your... darker dealings. The company, to a degree, was self-sustainable

↳ And of course, you had Thomas, the mastermind of the whole empire and the one you reported every minuscule detail to at the end of the day. You wouldn't call him kind, but he was considerate to a degree. You could always count on him to protect you where other's have failed but that also caused the greatest conflict between the two of you. It was hard, managing family verses business with him, lines always threatening to be crossed as your relationship was strained. Thomas respected you deeply, you had stuck with him when the rest of the family fell apart and offered him new perspectives to cultivating legal business. Yet he was too protective of you, he couldn't stand to lose you and openly admitted that you where his first choice if he needed to choose who would live

↳ In recent times, your family was playing chess against with a rising power called the Glass family who not so suitably started poking their fingers into your sectors, fixing your gambling sites with their newest expansions. You chuckled to yourself within Tommy's house. The men reported on the new business the Glass family had established, a boxing ring as you shoved Arthur in his chair with a teasing smile.

"Remember when you wanted to become a boxer, brother?" Arthur flips you the finger, a frown emerging from his moustache as he pours himself another drink, mumbling about you being a spoiled little brat yet you don't bother to catch the end of it.

The spy coughs, returning all of your attention back as Thomas glares at you both to hold yourselves, John's face has gone red trying to conceal his laughter at the childish faces you pull at him as Thomas throws his hand up, signalling for the man to continue.

"They have been having some difficulties in expanding their weed enterprise as well, we are still trying to get to the bottom of as to why this is as the documentation we have stolen shows nothing out of the sorts." A series of copied folders and photographs are then spread against the hardwood table as your painted nails sort through each stack, categorizing them in sequential order. Your green nail taps on top of a dead mans face thoughtfully stroking his cheek as you look at the bullet hole placed in between his eyes, "And what is the backstory to this incident exactly?" you comment.

The spy looks towards Thomas who already looks bored, there was nothing of significance to be said just yet but this newest bit of information had him raising as eyebrow. "Well, that kill was confirmed to be done by the new Duke of Halstead as I were one of the men stationed to dispose of it."

The spy throws another bundle on the table labelled, "The Duke." You excitedly snatch the manila folder quicker than anyone else at on the table as your eyes dart across every picture and piece of information you can grasp. Captain, Aristocrat, Medals... More Medals, Service, First Place, Honour Roll, Head Boy, Family Strain, oh... Your thoughts pause, cheeks heating when you flick up a stapled bundle of papers, a defined uniform, blue beret. The next page a Polo champion in college and deep black suit for the funeral. Slamming the folder shut, all eyes snap to the sudden noise.

"We are joining the upper echelon of society, brothers! Do let me meet up with him- I promise not to disappoint," you plead, already knowing that you are perfect for the mission. You and the Duke were both public-facing faces with one foot in reality and another in the pits. It would be a simple mission really, you convince yourself and your brothers as they immediately protest to the idea. Step in, seduce, convince him to sign-out and step out- as simple as that.

You look at Thomas, eyes strong, eyebrows furrowed as you level his stare. "You know I'm the only who can properly do this job, Thomas and if it does not work out, we can just kill them off just like the last, right?" The spy departs, bowing his head before speedily turning out of the room as tension only rises in the room, getting caught in your throat as you hitch your breath watching as Tommy's mouth moves into an echoing, "fine."

↳ So here you sat, in your covered box from the sun at the races. You clapped joyfully with a smile spreading your cheeks. You tip your hat down, seeing your bets adding up on your card as Ada cheered loudly beside you, leaning over the railing as she praises your chosen racer. Interviews for the sportsmen start as the Jockey casts a wink up at your sister. Ada throws down a business card the he clutches, placing it in his breast pocket with a tap to his chest before continuing to answer the post-race questions.

"Have yourself a date?" you tease out, picking up your spiked lemonade to hide your smile curving up into a knowing smirk. "Well you are one to talk sis, I heard down the grapevine that you had a certain duke chasing after you like Cinderella," Ada rebuttals, fixing herself a drink at the cart as you eye the three shots of vodka she stirs in, "isn't that a bit much for..." you look down at your wrist-watch, "...1PM? We do have dinner at Arthur's later tonight you know."

"We all can use a pick-me-up every now and then," she comments as you hum out, eyeing up your singular shot drink before shifting further down the couch to create space for her as she removes a pillow, placing it on her lap as she kicks off her heels and sets her feet up upon the coffee table. "Now, you didn't answer my question, go on then," she sasses, setting her drink down and leaning closer to you with knowing eyes gleaming into your own.

You roll your eyes, face going red while pushing her face away from your own as she laughs, "So you do have the hots for him!"

"No, its just that a second sun is bursting in my face and plus, we could never work," you retort, now refusing to meet her chasing eyes as she grips your hand. "Oh, come on (name)! details, details! don't leave me hanging here, thats brothers work," Ada presses forward just as your resolve crumbles. You place a hand to the bride of your nose, pinching as you eyes squeeze shut. "I won't repeat myself so listen closely," you start recalling the first day you met Captain and Duke, Edward Horniman.

↳ Running around your house, asking various staff members of your estate as to where your old mail had been distributed you felt around the thin papers and pages till you felt weight and lifted out the invitation from the stack. Mr. Johnston's Estate invites you to his quarterly festivities, your fingers trace over the pressed letters and seal before looking towards your closet

↳ You had worn a tailored dress that perfectly accentuated your body for tonights assignment. Within a closer inspection, various hand stitched black branches and birds spread across the top sheer level of fabric set to a black backdrop. Your hair was pinned upwards, showcasing the glowing skin of your neck and upper chest that you spent way too much time blending in with your makeup.

↳ You suitably leaned against the bar-top, feet already sore from the high heels you wore to make your legs appear longer and by the looks around the room, your plan of seduction was already in the works as a woman ordered a drink for the two of you. Her red lipstick simmering brightly under the dim lights, beckoning you in closer yet you held your resolve. Thanking her for the drink while placing a hand on her own before walking towards the neighbouring room. Feeling her stare as you left, you offered her a floating kiss before turning the corner.

↳ The windows were open as you walked down the long hall towards the cheers as multiple guests played various card games within the billiards room, you pulled the sleeves of your dress down further as you dropped the drink on a floating tray- it's sickeningly sweet taste formed a headache as you pinched your temples.

↳ You strolled around the room, smiling at every face that met yours, shaking hands with others as you enjoyed watching every. single. face. fall in recognition to who they were just flirting with. Stuttering apologies, you grew disappointed when their eyes drifted cautiously around the room for a threat of a man, one of your brothers. You scoff at this, turning towards the next.

↳ With the most recent man that was trying to capitalize on the half-attention you were giving him, absent-mindlessly nodding along to his business proposition as you both strolled around the estate, you found yourselves back at the entrance as your eyes snapped over to the late party-goers just making their arrivals, one of them being just the man you were waiting for as he stumbles through the open doors.

His beauty stumps you in person, the blurry pictures you obtained from at the table do not do the man justice as he practically glows under the warm lighting above. His hair tussled in a wind-swept way as your hands itch to fix every strand. Chocolate eyes are all you want to drink in before your attention is being called back as you start to glare at the intrusion.

"So what do you think, Mademoiselle Shelby?" the man asks to you, hand starting to drift up your arm, another on your leg before your eyes snap back down to his face from over the crowd. You rip your arm away from his touch, sending him a cold smile as you fix the lapels of his jacket for him, gripping the suit closest to his neck as you pull him closer to you. Any outside looker would think your reaction to be a romantic display yet by the sweat starting to form at his hairline, you were receiving just the reaction you wanted.

"I have no interest in working with a boy who already starts to sweat at the mere touch of a woman," and with that you drop him, watching as he falls into a group of people who all glare down at him, stepping around as he scrambles out the backdoor. You fix your appearance in your phones camera before making your way towards your mission.

Edward Horniman's Perspective

Re-buttoning his suit jacket, he places his keys in the hands of a staff-member while making his way up the stairs. Susie had been waiting for him in the lobby rather impatiently, her foot tapping against the tiled floors as she dully looked at the floral decorations that hug around the vaulted space before her eyes snapped to Eddie form spinning around to face her.

"You look a bit shit," she says while eyeing him up and down, taking notice to the small amount of blood beginning to form at his side with distaste.

"Remind me why we're here?" Eddie states, taking the conversation reigns as he begins to glance around the room. Susie begins walking closer to him, making their way out of the foyer.

"We are here to learn why Uncle Sam wants in to your estate and subsequently our Business," Susan replies, a subtle shake of her head as if ringing out the terrible idea of it all. Her feet start to falter as she instantly notices you stepping into the room behind them both with a champagne flute delicately place in your hand.

"Then whats his business?" Eddie pushes forwards, moving them both through the sea of people as Susie snaps her head back forwards, doing her best to maintain composure and not cause a scene as she allows Eddie to guide her further into the estate.

"Meth. He's made billions from it."

"Then what are you, Susan, a drug dealer with a heart?" Eddie question's, raising a brow as he stops to pick them both up a drink. A small smile spreading across his lips as they chime together before Susie proceeds to down the rest of it.

"Everything alright?" concern now rising in his features as he looks around the room, his gaze stopping, breath intaking sharply at the sight of you. He is unable to tear his gaze away as you turn your head to face him, you offer a small smile. Eyeing the man from his shoes, the seam of his pants, his neck that swallow deeply as your hand rises from your side, up to your collarbones as you delicately play with the necklace you wear. You finally stop at his eyes as you mouth a cheeky hello before turning around back towards the bar.

Susie still remains looking at her now empty drink, unknowing to Eddie's distraction by the sound of the crowd as she continues conversation normally. "We like money just as the next man, but his gear comes with a rather violent price tag. We stay in our lane because comparatively, its a peaceful one. We let him in, carnage will follow."

Susie now looks up, noticing that Eddie had not replied to her speech as she follows his gaze to your back as your fingers play with the lip of your cup. You laugh at whatever the bartender had just said to you before your glass has been topped off once more, you turn around, flashing them both a smile before slowly making your way closer to them.

Eddie takes a step forwards, wishing to meet you halfway before Susie reigns him in, nails digging into the arm of his suit jacket as she pulls him back to her side.

"I don't think you are quite ready for the big leagues, Captain-" Susan warns, looking at the side of Eddies face before he turns back to her, a charming smile accentuating his features before he speaks.

"I just killed a man, Susie. I think I can handle speaking to a woman-"

"Hm, well thats just not any ordinary woman, Edward. That is Miss. Shelby- the possible saviour to every one of our problems if we did not already... push some buttons," Susie states, smile waning as you get progressively closer, many people still try and gain your attention as you hold up your hand, wishing not to be disturbed.

"And there's room to fix that I'm sure, but what exactly did WE do?" Before Susie could answer, your heels are in front of Eddies dress shoes as you extend a hand forwards in greeting. "Miss. Shelby," Susie greets you with a composed look, her smile dropped as she tries to stare through you.

Edward picks up your hand, pressing a kiss on to the back of it as you hold hands for longer than necessary before pulling away. "Your Grace, Miss. Glass," you greet, "a pleasure it is to see you both here tonight." Your voice is like honey, hanging in the air as you smile at them both.

"The pleasure is all mine, Miss. Shelby," Edward replies, noticing Susie's mock indifference as she shifts her weight slightly under your faux-gentle eyes; sharped to a cutting-stare as you strike her down. "You two make a rather charming couple, if I may ask, how recent is this development?" you question, hiding your growing smirk in your drink as Eddie's gaze falls to your lips and the print you leave against the glass, snapping back up to your eyes- yours crinkle in a second greeting.

"You have yourself mistaken, Myself and Miss. Glass are merely business associates," Eddie clarify as you set your glass gently on the bar-top, hand brushing against Eddies bicep in the movement. Your eyes continue to lock on to one another, a silent conversation being played as you lean a bit closer, taking a deeper look at his features as you notice Eddies gaze roam your's own. In that moment, Susie decides to step back into the conversation.

"What does your family want?" she deadpans, eyeing the closing distance between you and Eddie with hardened eyes as her hand threatens to crush the glass in her hand. "Well, by the looks of it, your business had became my business, thanks to your mingling," you charismatically charm, hand hovering on Eddies arm as you adore the jealous look brewing inside her.

"And if you two are merely just associates, I think this calls for a more... personal discussion with the Duke since our businesses are now becoming tied together, is that not tight Susie?" you finish with as Eddie looks between the two of you, undeceiving of who to follow alongside. But by the look of your eyes snapping to his lips once more as you tongue swipes across your own, parting them slightly- his decision is made.

"I will be back in a moment, Susie," Edward says, following in-step as you lead him out of the crowded space. Just as Eddie reaches the hall, he casts his head back, sending Susie a knowing look as if to say, I'm fixing it before disappearing. Susie glares at your lipstick stained glass sat on the counter with distaste before being led towards Mr. Johnston by his assistant.

Your Perspective

Success, you cheer to yourself, as you loop your arm around Eddies arm, leading him towards a nearby study you know to be empty. The door softly closes behind you both. In the next moment, you pull Eddies arm to his side, shoving him against the door as it rattles from the impact.

Eddie's eyes are blown wide as he hisses out slightly in pain, forgetting about the gun-shot wound before becoming distracted by the feeling of your soft lips against his own. Your heels make you tall enough to capture his lips into a delicate battle of heated touches, your skirt being bunched up by Eddies hands, your gentle caresses of the stubble of his cheeks as playful bite his lower lip, wishing to explore more.

Gasping for air as you pull away, you further taint his skin a deep red to match his lips you coated in your lipstick. Pressing a kiss at the side of his mouth as he whispers out a tease before you trail over to his cheek, paving a way to his chin and down his neck as his head raises, exposing more skin for your greedy lips. He grips your hips, keeping you in place as you suck a mark onto the base of his neck. A soft moan escaping between his lips before an equally greater hiss as blood continues to pour out of his side.

You take a step back, gently opening his jacket, your eyes cast upwards, through your lashes as you playfully pout. You place a palm at his inner thigh, watching as his eyes grow in size as your hand drifts just past the growing bulge in his pants- stopping slightly before the wound as you hum out thoughtfully while looking at it.

"My, my, your grace. Whatever do you have here?" You rhetorically ask before pressing your hand into the opening, listening as he hisses out, hands swiftly moving off your hips and onto your hand as they pull your touch off of him side.

"You little fucking temptress," Eddie curses out, eyes darkened as his tongue sweeps over his lips, you take a few steps back. The Duke presses himself off the wall, taking wide strides as your hands begin to sweat yet you do not break eye contact. Continuing to swiftly walk backwards as best you can in heels before tripping over a rug and falling against the back of a chair.

Eddie's arms cage you in against the chair, your breath hitching as he places his face within the crook of your neck. His facial hair tickling your skin, a soft burn forming with every word he speaks, "Now tell me, Miss. Shelby, what is it you want from me?"

You swallow. Hard. Knuckles turning white at the force you grip the chair with before trying to compose yourself, a shaky breath you exhale conceal in a moan. Pressing a kiss to the shell of his ear, "I want you to kiss me, Eddie," you murmur, hand fixing those curls you wanted to from the start. Your fingers curl around a few strands within an instant as Eddie sucks a bruise to your neck, licking the area afterwards. "What are you here for?" he questions once more as you shake your head, wondering how far you can truly push this.

"No. That was not a proper kiss, sir. Kiss me." You state again, taking a deep breath in as victory when Eddie pulls away, eyes boring into your own, blood now tainting the band of his pants as your eyes flicker down to it. Your chin is gripped as Eddie pulls you into that proper kiss you were begging for but he pulls away too quickly as you press your lips together to hide your frown. Your cheeks were warm, hair a mess, your chest raises up and down like you had just ran a mile.

Edward appears in the same state as he stumbles back, hand gripping his side, eyes tipping down to your chest before snapping back up with a cold look- you needed to answer, couldn't have your signature bleeding out before he could sign.

"I need you out of my bettings, your grace," you breathily state, hand placed on your chest as you feel your heart-rate still bumping fast. You take deeper intakes of air, feeling for your heart starting to slow as you watch Eddie crunch over, blood-loss starting to make him go dizzy.

You swiftly stand and hobble towards the desk, finding a first aid kit in one of the lower drawers as you unknowingly bend down in front of Eddie as he curses you out once more, you look back, murmuring an apology before standing up straight and beginning to make work of his clothes, jacket off, tie discarded and shirt unbuttoned, you pluck the remnants of the bullet out from his side.

Eddie grits his teeth together, hands curled into fists as he watches you work, your tweezers poking into his muscle. "If you would stop watching me so closely, maybe I could focus more and poke you less," you sass, looking up at his while blowing the hair out of your eye. Eddie fixes the stand behind your ear before raising his hand once more. "Well just a minute ago you were practically on your knees begging for me to look at you," Eddie responds with a smirk, you huff and maintain your work, gathering the last bits of metal before treating the area and wrapping his torso snuggly.

The Duke's blood stains your hands as you look down at them thoughtfully. The thick liquid cascades off your fingertips, falling onto your dress, marking a pair of birds. "You owe me a new dress," you say, wiping your hands with the small cloth the kit provided before taking a stand. You start to walk away before Eddie grasps your arm, you pause mid-step, feet now plated in wait.

"Thank you, Miss. Shelby. I will sign to never fix a game with your business if you promise to have a meeting with Miss. Glass and I," Edward compromises, letting go of your arm and watches as you walk towards the exit, "I don't think you are in any position to make compromises, nevertheless demands, Edward. But... I'll keep you updated on my decision," and with that you close the door softly behind yourself for him to get dressed. Pressing your forehead to the wooden surface, you grip your hands into fists before settling your head up high as you descend the stairs and move towards the coat room. You sneak your keys and coat before slipping out the side door and walk towards your car.

A series of hastened footsteps against the gravel have you rolling down the window to your Range Rover, foot on the brake, hands on the wheel- ready to make haste. You do your best not to be surprised when the Duke's face greets you on the other side, a I know something you don't smile resting on his features as you raise a brow to it.

"We never exchanged contacts," he states to you casually, as if it were the weather. You hum out, analyzing his statement while look out the windshield before looking back at him. Light rain begins to fall as you press a lingering kiss to his cheek, "I will find you in due time, you and Miss. Glass. Have a good night, your grace." And with that, you roll up your window, and drive off underneath the moonlight.

You take a deep sip of your drink as Ada sits still, mouth open as you swear to be losing circulation to you hand. Pins and needles start to form at your fingertips form how tightly she holds onto your hand. "Fuck, sis. Sounds like you got him good," Ada says, barley able to conceal her smile.

Shaking your head you take a deep sip of your near melted lemonade before clearing your throat and checking for the time, it would be an hour's drive from here, you both had to leave soon. "Well even if I have managed to, 'get him good...'" you raise your hands in quotations, starting to mock even the idea of you two together yet your heart speaks otherwise, beating rapidly in your chest as you recount the feeling of his lips on yours. The small hickey on your neck still bruised as you wonder if his has healed since then.

Ada raises a brow, watching as you absent-mindedly reach up towards your mark, fingers circling around the mark as you continue to speak, "...Tommy would never allow it-"

"Fuck what Tommy thinks, he's not you. Do YOU want to see him again?" Ada cuts you off, a serious look taking over every feature, tightening into sharp lines- as if daring you to say else-wise.

You refuse to meet her eyes, looking outside to the near empty tracks, "I mean..."

↳ Taglist: @daffodilstark @leavemeslowly @iamasimpingh0e @kneelarmhstrung @surazim

↳ A/N: What did you all think? I am quite happy with this being a standalone but I am willing to write a pt.2. If you have any ideas as to where it could go- send an ask, DM, or comment and I'll see what can be done further :) (i'm also taking a break soon... maybe... probably).

#eddie halstead x reader #x reader #eddie x reader #the gentlemen #the gentlemen x reader #netflix #the gentlemen netflix #fanfic #fanfiction #simp-ly #simp-ly-writes #eddie horniman #eddie horniman x reader #edward horniman #edward horniman x reader #the gentlemen 2024 #peaky blinders #the gentlemen 2024 x peaky blinders

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