#peaky blinders

[skarsgards-bill]

Cillian Murphy as Thomas Shelby Peaky Blinders | Season 3 Episode 4

[brummiereader]

Sweet Dreams, Darling (Part Two)

Summary: As the realisation of who the puddle splashing perpetrator finally sinks in, you do your up most to avoid any meaningful conversation with him until the foreseeable future. But one thing your determination hadn't bet on, was the sheer stubborness Tommy was hell-bent on showing in a bid for you to remember the summer you had spent together. But with progress comes a harrowing announcement that will change the course of your relationship, leaving two broken hearts forever pining for each other.

Warnings: Language, mutual pining, angst.

Word Count: 3.5K

[Masterlist] [Previous Part] [Trailer]

The embarrassment you felt creeping over your reddening face the moment you realised who the puddle-splashing perpetrator was, didn't take long to see you fly out the Garrison doors for cover as Tommy's daydream of a reunion fell short of what he had hoped for.

How could you have not recognised him?, you hounded yourself with the same question that had you tossing and turning all night. The memories of your summer romance that saw you awake until the early hours of the next morning.

Did he think you had forgotten? your plodding feet came to a sudden stop along the sludge-ladened paths of Small Heath as a tear for the events that followed after August 1907, crept through your lashes.

With shaky fingers you dabbed the pools of sadness from your cheeks, head rising above the scrambling hands of grief tightening around your throat.

What would he think of you if he knew?, shame suddenly rose to your skin in the name of Sean O'Connor, whose presence in your life after the sweltering summer seven years before, saw the memories you cherished with Tommy forever tainted.

Was that why you had forgotten about him? To stop yourself from dwelling on what could have been? To keep your heart safe from the predicament you found yourself in?

" Enough, Y/N. It was just a silly summer fling" you mumbled under your breath as the weight of the years you'd lived between seeing him became too heavy for you to reflect on.

But Small Heath would see you had no escape from the past you were scared to remember when you caught eye of one of its most notorious residents and catalyst to your tears on the opposite side of the road, steadily walking closer.

Eyes darting through the street of horse-led wagons, of coal-tugging men, you both sought a glimpse of the other when the bustling road dispersed and you and Tommy were left with nothing between you but a shared smile.

But as the uptick of traffic steadily recommenced, so did your racing heart when you watched Tommy step off the cemented curb, and head your way. A move that left you in so much of a panic, you seized your opportunity to dip out of sight when a large haulage van of barreled ale crossed in front of his path with a blaring horn.

"Shit" Tommy jumped out of the road onto the cobbled walkway, head bobbing over the line of vehicles to see you stood at the end of the street with locks of hair whirling in front of your eyes as you watched his attempts to swerve through the traffic.

"Y/N!" he called after you, brow knitting in frustration at the sight of your fingers slipping around the bricked house, the ends of your dress billowing around the corner out of sight in the disappearing act you had begun to perfect.

Stood with hands thrown up in defeat at your nimble knack of slipping away, Tommy bit back the sting of rejection you had shown him once again. A sting that only seemed to spur on his refusal to give up on the promise he'd made to you that fading summer evening at the fair.

For he was a man of his word, and he'd vowed never to forget. And he'd be darned if he'd let you forget too.

As the sound of your ringlet permed customers' lengthy shopping list muffled in your ear, your preoccupied thoughts of Tommy and the disappointment you felt in yourself for standing him up in the middle of the street, overtook every corner of your muddled mind.

" And a Birmingham Gazette" the elderly ladys cane pointed beside you to the knotted stack of newspapers when the marching two feet of Tommy appeared stomping past the window.

" Shit. Not again..." your eyes widened at each long determined step closing in as your fumbling fingers fiddled with the string of hemp.

" Don't worry dear, they say it'll all blow over in a week's time" the elderly lady spoke of the printed headline, and it's stark warning of an impending war she assumed was the reason for your flustered tizzy, and not the approaching blue eyes of a man who had as much determination as any bulldozing tank.

"One can only hope" you found yourself simultaneously reassuring the foolish idea that you could dodge the many questions you feared Tommy had for you as you watched him stroll into the pokey confides of the small corner shop.

"Mark my word, by summer we'll never hear of it again" she patted your hand before taking off with her woven basket of goods as your eyes darted to Tommy stood waiting with folded arms. His thoughts on your attempted escape earlier that morning, still huffing past his lips.

As the sound of the door swung shut, a silence suddenly settled between you both. Leaving you with a compelling need to busy your hands with cleaning every reachable inch of the counter in front of you. Much to the dismay of every child in Small Heath, and the array of rainbow-coloured lollipops that saw the end of your feather duster in your frantic urgency to distract yourself.

" Gazette" Tommy strode forward, sliding a penny across the wooden table as his eyes sought out the last lollipop that had survived your dusting.

Rolling the boiled ended sweet in his mouth, he casually flicked through each freshly printed page. Throat clearing with every darting eye up at your blushing cheeks as he unsuccessfully waited on you to put him out of his misery.

" You're avoiding me" he pointed the lolly accusingly your way. His patience also lacking when it came to his sweet tooth and the sherbet middle of the boiled treat he'd already cracked open.

" Am not!" your voice squeaked to an ear deafening high as Tommys eyes narrowed in, his only audible response, that of the sound of his teeth biting down with a crunch onto the disappearing confectionery.

" Is there something else you need?" you huffed at his insistence as he tossed the wooden stick from his mouth, eyes gleaming with mischief.

" Alright then" Tommy gave into the game you were adamant on playing as he settled his hands in the pockets of his suit trousers.

" What do you recommend?" he nodded with a boyish grin to the large collection of jarred sweets shelved behind you as you folded your arms in annoyance.

" Anymore and you'll put a hole in your tooth" you huffed with a flick of your chin as you pulled a dusty container of gummy treats that hadn't seen the light of day since Queen Victorias regin in front of his dubious eyes.

" Here" you scooped out a square of tarry anise he boldly tossed into his mouth without apprehension as you watched his enthusiastic chewing come to a sudden stop when its unique taste began to settle in.

"I like 'em" his stubborness lied and terribly, as his contorting face and drying throat attempted to conceal the horror his taste buds were being tormented to endure.

" On the house your, highness" you shot his rolling eyes a wink as you held a handfuls worth in a brown paper bag out for him to take, bottom lip finding its way between your teeth to stop the emerging giggle tickling at your throat.

"Plenty more where they came from" you patted the top of the dust coated lid with a merry smile at your triumphant win when Tommy made his plans for every upcoming day until the end of time known to you.

" Good. Tomorrow it is, then. And the next day, and the day after that, and after that, and would you believe it or not...the day after that" his intentions continued to ring in your ear as he waved you off with the bag of stomach turning sweets in his hand.

" Perfect" a huffy stomp of your foot came down onto the wooden floors, your narrowing eyes honing in on his parting smirk of enjoyment as the door flew shut with a gust of wind.

Pouting lips resting on the palm of your hand, your eyes darted to your failed sugary plan of action in its large glass jar that would see Tommy come to your workplace every day until next winter. Well, shit.

"Need socks" Arthur threw open his brother's door without warning as Tommy lay thumbing his brow in his bed, counting the cracks in his decaying ceiling.

" Still sulking?" Arthur sniffed as he plonked himself down beside him on the rickety metal frame that saw Tommy go flying into the air with a disgruntled huff.

" What in the bloody hell is all this, ay?" Arthur's brow furrowed together as he opened Tommy's bedside cabinet to see it stuffed full of black licorice, not an intact sock insight for his nobbly growing toes.

" Get out" Tommy shot up, slamming the drawer shut before slumping back into his bed as he searched for a cigarette to dislodge the sour mood that had overtaken him.

" Got enough there to fill every nook and cranny in this shit hole" Arthurs' joke fell short as his brother continued to wallow in self-pity with the accompanying paddy he'd been having going on for near a month.

" Shut up, Arthur" Tommy flicked the flame from the match between his fingers with a spin of his wrist as his lips pulled at the tightly coiled cylinder of tobacco.

"Right. I'm off..." Arthur tried to slip away from having to hear the details of his brother's romantic life for the umpteenth time when Tommy perked up, not giving him the choice but to sit and listen.

"Every fucking morning I'm there when she opens, and she still won't give me the time of day" he moaned about the months' worth of visits he'd made to the corner shop that had ended in disappointment for Tommy and his endeavour to win you over with his charm.

" Fickle lot, women. Don't know if you're bloody coming or going" Arthur spoke of the opposite sex as if he had an expansive dating life that didn't only consist of quickies behind the Garrison after a night of drinking.

" Here's what you've gotta do, Tom..." he began his speech on the dos and don'ts of enticing women like a farmer would his prized cattle when Tommy shot up from his bed at the awkward turn in Arthur's tangent that had derailed into the more, intimate aspect of dating.

" Yeh, thanks Arthur" Tommy cleared his throat, stubbing the fiery end of his cigarette out before his ears were left red with Arthur's unsolicited advice that would see him more worse off than he already was.

" Yeh" Arthur rose like an old man having finished his Sunday dinner as he took long strides to his brother's bedroom door away from the sibling bonding over girls, neither one of them would breathe a word of again.

"Tom?" the eldest Shelby came to a stop, adamant on giving his younger brother one last word of advice that even the likes of Tommy couldn't deny made sense compared to the merry-go-round he currently had a life-long ticket for.

" Stop being a bloody prat, and just ask her out, for all our sakes"

Sat down by the cut, you tossed the crumbs of your sandwich into the murky water to its yellow-beaked residences happily paddling about their day as you leant back onto its muddy bankside, head turned to the rays of sun emerging through the clouds overhead. That was until the whistles of an approaching blue-eyed man cut short your peaceful moment in the only patch of nature Small Heath had to offer.

" Wondered where you were. Had your little baggie all ready for you. But you didn't show up " you closed your eyes to the warmth beaming on the bony curves of your collarbone as Tommy stood precariously balanced on the brick wall behind you.

" Is that disappointment I hear in your voice, miss Y/N?" you could hear the smile peaking through his playful response as your eyes shot open to him with his arms outstretched along the stoney wall like a peacock ruffling his feathers in attempt to garner attention.

" You'll break a leg doing that one day" your eyes followed his grinning smile as he stepped one foot in front of the other before jumping over your head onto the grassy ground in front of you.

" Then I'll have you to kiss it better for me, won't I?" he shot a wink to your rolling eyes as he joined you in the muddy grass of metal bottle caps and discarded cigarettes.

"Never seen you here before. Down by lovers' lane. You waiting for your boyfriend, eh?" he leaned back with a smirk, perched elbows holding the weight of his body as his neck strained to see the peaking curves under your frilly blouse.

" Just enjoying the sights Small Heath have to offer. And clearly, so are you " you caught his wandering eyes as your head turned to see the emerging grin dimpling his freckled cheeks.

" Still haven't told me what brought you back here" he pulled himself up, crystal eyes squinting through the midday sun as he plucked a blade of grass from the muddy earth at his booted heels, rolling it between his fingers as he waited for you to tell him what had you back in Birmingham without your traveling entourage.

" Not much to say, really" you crossed your hands into your lap as you looked out at the glimmering waters rippling against the muddy banks with a heavy breath for the events you would end up listing off like your permed customer that morning, rather than fall into the emotions that came with the heavy burden of grief you had diligently kept at bay.

" Dad got black lung. Worked until he couldn't walk anymore. And when he couldn't walk anymore, he gave up. Gave in. Not sure which came first" you felt the weight of Tommy's eyes on you, heavy enough to have you dip your head down to the grassy bed below as a tear blinked through your lashes.

" Mum took my brothers to live with family after he died. I stayed back...with some help" your throat cleared itself of the details about who exactly helped you get by as you dusted the flakes of mud from your palms, when Tommy gently leaned in to give his condolences.

" Sorry about your dad, Y/N. He was good a man. Hard working" Tommy's soft-spoken words of acknowledgment for the man that would give his last tuppence to those worse off than him came with a gentle stroke of his thumb over the back of your hand.

"Thank you" your cracking voice battled with the wave of emotions scrambling up your throat as you danced your fingers over his in a moment of quiet. Only the gentle sounds of the river's water washing up against the embankments grassy enclosure to be heard.

" How did I not recognise you?" you quietly mouthed the same question you had asked yourself countless times since your disastrous reunion.

" Small Heath sewers must have fucked with your eyes, love" Tommy lightened the heavy mood with his splashing mishap. A change in topic that earned him a giggle he thought his fading memory of you would never hear again.

"But you have changed. Grown" you turned the gold band on his finger you had offered him that summer's day as Tommy's back straightened, puffing chest of pride swiftly deflated when you brutally doused his ego.

" Your fingers that is" you bounced to your feet with a playful grin, leaving him with arms up in the air in disbelief before his scrambling limbs rose to meet you.

"Where you off too?" Tommy watched you pat the strands of grass from your skirt as he adjusted his peak cap, unable to pull his eyes from your every move like the besotted teen with a heart of gold from his past he'd done his up most to keep hidden from the gritty status that came with being a part-time gangster.

" Back to work" you looked down the muddy path to the dreary day that awaited you and the repetitive small talk about the weather that came with not only being British, but working in a shop that saw every cane wielding pensioner of Small Heath plod in to buy their breakfast, lunch and tea.

" I'll be seeing you, Tommy" your footing hesitated before you leant in to press a chaste kiss to his cheek as his lips curled into a winning smile.

" Pick you up at five, then?" Tommy called out to your skipping steps as he pulled his peak cap from his head for every resident of Small Heath to see the ruby stained mark left on his cheek that had made his day.

" For what?" your voice rose above the gentle breeze of floral notes and end to the bitter February slowly defrosting the soot-clouded town.

" I'm taking you out. For something to eat that's not fucking licorice!" he was keen to share a decent meal with you and find an excuse to forgo another evening of begrudgingly making his way through the years' worth of anise he'd accumulated in the last month.

" But It's hair washing day!" the ends of your dress span around with you as you walked with one foot behind the other to the end of the path with a giggle.

" At five!" he gave you no choice in the matter as he watched you wave him off with a blowing kiss under the crowning sun until you disappeared into the bustling main street of Small Heath.

With a smile on his face, and a jump in his step. Tommy strolled along the river bank like a man without a care in the world.

But just as he'd landed on his luck, the growing tensions between nations would see you separated again by the destructive decisions of men. A decision that could forever fracture the ties of your and Tommy's time conquering romance.

"Dance with me" you pulled Tommy into the ballroom of couples being twirled in tandem with the live band playing under the dazzling crystal chandeliers.

" You've got me wrapped around your little finger. You know that?" his freckled smile beamed down at you as his hands settled on your waist, feet guiding you past the silver-plated trays of bubbling champagne, to the marble dancefloor that awaited you.

" Hm, I think it's rather me who's wrapped around your finger" you pulled his hand between you, thumbing the gifted gold band his heart refused to part with.

For five months you and Tommy had been dating. And ever the gentlemen, he'd never stepped out of line, never once pushed the unspoken boundaries that had been put in place. Instead, he took you dancing. Took you to every band playing evening just so he could hold you in his arms for the night before dropping you off at the front step of your door like he would've promised your father if sickness would've stayed at bay long enough for him to see your budding romance develop. A true gentleman indeed. A boy besotted on the cusp of twirling you into his arms to confess what he'd felt for you ever since his eyes stumbled upon you that August summer's day in 1907.

" I love you" Tommy whispered into your ear against the sounds of the buzzing trumpet-playing band. A secret spoken for only you to hear among the spinning crowd of people dancing around your halting feet.

" Tommy..." your eyes watered with a thousand words you wanted to say, a thousand ways he made you feel, but only three that could sum it up in one shared confession.

" I love you" you cupped his cheeks as you felt your body being spun into a delirious state of bliss until all dreams of your future were severed when the band suddenly came to an abrupt stop and the maître d' made his own three worded announcement that would change the course of events for not only you and Tommy but the world.

" Britain's declared war!"

*I'd love to hear your thoughts on this chapter in the comments below 💚*

[Next part] (coming soon!)

Tag list: @mischievouslittlecreature @peakyswritings @jbrownta @youngbananamilkshake @meadowshelby

@dragonsneversharetheirtreasure @novashelby @tiedyedghoulette @strangeobsessed @justrainandcoffee

[mischievouslittlecreature]

Part 26: Do You Love Me

Summary: They have a lot of time to make up for.

Word Count: 5,769

Warnings: Smut, marathon sex, oral sex, size kink, bit of a praise kink, unintentional voyeurism, and references to polyamory and past suicide attempts.

Notes: I just want to say a massive thank you to everyone who has read this fic. This one in particular has been a passion project of mine since nearly the initial creation of Lucy, and I am so, so glad that you enjoyed it enough to read all the way to the end! Thank you so much for all the support that you have given me!

Previous Chapter • Series • Fic • Next Part

Chapter 22: Hopelessly Tangled

Lucy took in a deep, shuddering breath and pushed open the door leading into the room where she had been staying at Charlie’s yard. A shiver had gone through her when she passed by the red door leading into the washroom, a sick feeling twisting in her stomach. 

She slipped away while Tommy was speaking to Charlie regarding what to do with the opium shipment they still had at the yard. Originally the plan was for Charlie to take the shipment out while the coppers were all distracted by the assassination. But obviously that had all gone to hell, and it hadn’t been safe to move the shipment yet.

Tommy had cast her an alarmed look when she murmured into his ear that she needed to go take care of something in her old room. But he seemed to calm at least somewhat after she squeezed his hand and reassured him that she was okay. It would take only a minute. 

The room looked different without her suitcases in the corner, her makeup and jewelry on the desk, or the fifty million bouquets of flowers that Tommy had sent her during her stay there. It seemed bigger, yes. But also more empty. Barren. 

Her eyes fixed on the bed, mind turning back to all those nights spent laying on it, cold and lonely and crying.

Pushing up the mattress, she grabbed the slip of paper tucked underneath it, then set the mattress down, turned, and sat on the bed. 

Her fingers traced delicately over the train ticket, thumbing over the printed date and time. Rooting around in her pocket, she pulled out her lighter, clicking it on and just about to coax the corner of the ticket into the flame when she heard the sound of the floorboards by the door creaking. 

Looking up, she was met with Tommy standing in the doorway, hands shoved deep into his pockets and watching her calculatingly, a frown set into his face. Lucy clicked off the lighter, imagining that she likely looked an awful lot like a child who had just been caught with their hand in the cookie jar. 

Closing the door behind him and approaching her with heavy footfalls, Tommy sat down beside her on the bed, cringing at the way that the springs creaked with complaint under their combined weight. Neither of them said anything, both just staring down at the train ticket still clutched between her fingers. 

“I bought it after you said that you were going to kill Mosley for her. I thought that I’d lost you forever, so…” she trailed off, fingers rubbing at the edges of the paper. “I thought it would be better for everyone.”

Tommy was quiet for a considerable stretch of time. His shoulder brushed against hers, his fingers fidgeting with each other. She wondered if that was a habit he’d picked up from her, or her from him. 

“Were you going to tell me?” he asked finally, voice soft despite it only being them in the room. 

“I don’t know,” she sighed. She could sense the hurt coming off of him in waves at that. She shook her head at her past actions. “I look back on the way that I was thinking and behaving then, and it all seems so silly now.”

Tommy shifted, reaching out silently in request for the ticket. She passed it to him without complaint. His shoulders sagged as he stared down at it clutched gingerly between his hands. Lucy cocked her head.

“What?” 

He looked up at her, eyes sad. “If you really want to leave–”

“I don’t. I never wanted to. I thought that you–” she pulled in a trembling breath. “I thought it would be what was best for you.”

He searched her eyes carefully, and she met his gaze steadfastly, daring him to find any lie or wavering in it. Knowing that he would find none. Satisfied, he held out the ticket to her, and she clicked the lighter back on, holding the flame up to the delicate paper. She and Tommy watched as the flames caught, the parchment beginning to curl and smoke before fully catching ablaze. Tommy turned the paper carefully to avoid letting the yellow flames touch his fingers. And once the fire had mostly engulfed the ticket, Lucy snagged the ashtray on the nightstand for him to drop it into. Setting it and her lighter both back down on the table, she leaned into him. His arm wrapped around her, tucking her closer to his chest while they watched the last remnants of the train ticket turn to ash. 

His other hand stroked along her forearm, delicately trailing his fingers down until they brushed against the raised, barely healed scar on her wrist. 

The stitches had come out that morning. Finally. And while it would still be awhile until she could be considered truly one hundred percent healed, it was close enough for her to not need anymore bandaging or sutures.  

“You’re the love of my life, you know,” Tommy said, lips touching to the crown of her head.

Lucy felt like she might’ve been about to burst with love and affection for him. Raising her face, she cradled both his cheeks in her palms, resting her forehead against his. “And you’re mine.”

His hands smoothed up her back, holding her to him. “I got something for you.”

Lucy leaning back to look at him, a smile pulling at the edges of her lips. “Yeah?”

He nodded. “Close your eyes.”

She raised an eyebrow, but complied. She could hear him shifting about beside her.

“Alright. Open ‘em.”

She blinked open her eyes, and was greeted with a delicate gold chain dangling from Tommy’s fingers where they were poised in front of her. Glinting in the light on the end of the chain, was a little golden heart pendant. 

“Tommy…” she reached out, fingers brushing over the pendant. It was just small and simple enough to be to her tastes. And she could wear it with her daily attire easily. But she knew just from looking at it that it was made of real gold.  

“You like it?”

“It’s beautiful,” she turned so that he could fasten it around her neck. It fell to rest just below her collarbone. “Thank you.”

“I had it charmed,” he said, finishing doing the clasp and dropping his face to nuzzle in her neck. “For good luck. Protection. And love” He punctuated each with a kiss to her throat. Turning around, Lucy wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him. 

“Thank you, darling.” She touched his face. “I love it.”

“Every time you look at it, I want you to remember. Remember how much I love you.”

“I will.” Their noses bumped a little on their next kiss, but that didn’t dissuade them. 

“And,” he said–a little breathlessly, she noted smugly. “If that’s not enough. If you’re still doubting it, just ask me. Alright? Just ask me the question. Doesn’t matter the time, or the place, or what else might be on my mind. You ask, and I’ll answer, eh?”

“Okay,” she agreed. “Okay, I promise.”

His hands landed on her hips, tightening as he pulled her closer, an approving growl rumbling in his chest. “Good. Now c’mere.”

He pulled her impossibly closer to him, kissing her ferociously, his hands running over her sides before settling on her hips.

Lucy gasped delightedly into the kiss, hands going to fist at the front of his coat. Tommy’s tongue slid eagerly into her mouth, their kisses growing impossibly deeper with each passing moment. Her head spun a little, and had they not already been sitting down, she may have been at risk of her legs giving out. 

Just as she felt like she may very well run out of oxygen, Tommy broke the kiss to begin peppering his mouth along her throat. Nose brushing along where her neck met shoulder, she felt him inhaling deeply, and when he pushed her coat and suit jacket both from her shoulders, she didn’t stop him. Simply instead taking his own two outermost layers in her hands and nudging them off him, giving her much better access to grope at his biceps and run her hands along his chest. 

With a groan, Tommy began to fumble with the buttons on her waistcoat, pushing it off of her to land with an unceremonious thump on the floor. Warm hands slipped under her white shirt, stroking along her ribs.

“Yes?” he asked, eyes soft when they regarded her, asking for permission for more. She nodded eagerly, pressing wantonly against him. It had been far, far too long since he had touched her. Hands moving more frantically now, they both worked swiftly to rid the other of their clothes. Tommy’s waistcoat joined hers on the floor, while he became distracted after unbuttoning her shirt by caressing her breasts through her bra. Lucy giggled at the somewhat awkward maneuvering they had to do to get out of their holsters, before pressing her lips to the newly uncovered skin of his chest from her unbuttoning his shirt. Her bra was flicked open by clever fingers and flung to some faraway place in the depths of the room. Both naked from the waist up, Tommy scooped her up to press flush against him, lowering her backward to lay on the tiny bed. 

Immediately crawling on top of her, he set to work hastily ridding her of the remainder of her clothes, trousers and underwear pulled away and tossed carelessly to the floor in one quick movement. Legs fell open for him to settle between them, Tommy purring in approval at her nakedness, open mouthed kisses being planted along her neck down to her chest. 

“I missed you so fucking much,” he whispered between kisses, tongue circling one of her nipples before making his way down her body. 

“Missed you too,” she managed to get out, hand tugging on his dark hair and eliciting a groan from him. A finger circled over her clit, another groan clawing its way from Tommy’s throat at how wet she was. His burning lips pressed kisses to her thighs, his fingers beginning to work her over, thumb rubbing her clit while he slowly slipped two thick digits inside her.

She was teetering over the edge of an orgasm almost embarrassingly quickly, hands gripping the bed sheets so hard she was afraid that she might tear them. Tommy smirked, head tilted to the side.

“You wanna come? You wanna fucking come, sweet girl?”

Lucy nodded desperately.

“Yeah. You come as many fucking times as you want tonight.” With that he leaned forward, tongue flicking out to lick over her. A strangled cry ripped from her lips, back arching as after only a few expert swipes of his tongue, Tommy had her hurtling headfirst into an intense orgasm.

Grasping tightly at her thighs, Tommy pulled her closer to his mouth, hungrily lapping at her until she was nudging his head away from overstimulation. He sat up, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand and smirking. Lucy blinked up at him, hand pawing out to rub in interest along his chest, feeling the muscle ripple beneath her as she traced over the shape of his tattoos. Allowing her fingers to dip lower, it was her turn to smirk at the rather desperate noise that Tommy made when she cupped the large bulge in his trousers. She tugged at his belt, eyes narrowed demandingly.

“Off.”

He shifted off the bed for only a moment to strip off his trousers and underwear before crawling back over her, nose bumping against hers, bracing his arms on either side of her head. His eyes were incredibly soft, the icy blue thawed to a warm ocean.

“My beautiful girl,” he stroked her cheek, kisses pressed to her lips. Lucy wound her arms around his neck, thighs going around his waist. His erection burned where the thick length pressed against her inner thigh. Her core fluttered and clenched, wanting nothing more than to finally have him inside of her again.

In one swift move, she flipped them, careful so as to not accidentally send them both careening to the floor off of the narrow bed. 

“Yes,” Tommy breathed out at her straddling him, hands landing on her hips to help stabilize her. “Yes, fuck me.” His head fell back, eyes fluttering closed. “Please fuck me, Lucy.”

A shiver wracked through him as she gripped his shaft, stroking him in her fist before lining him up, her entire body shuddering as she slowly sunk down onto him. A moan fell from her lips, grasping at Tommy’s shoulders for stability, head tilted back as he filled her. Beneath her, Tommy growled, an arm going around her while the other clasped tight enough to her hip to leave bruises.

“Lucy,” he whispered, sitting up to press kisses along her collarbone. A swell of possessiveness washed over her, gripping his face in one hand and forcing him to look at her. The other hand rested over his chest, right above his heart.

“You’re mine,” she said, not room for argument in her voice. Tommy’s cock twitched inside of her at the words, eyelashes fluttering, pupils dilating until she could barely see any of the blue of his irises. One large hand covered hers, stroking the skin.

“I’m yours,” he agreed.

She leaned forward, lips pressing fully to his, and began to ride him. With his hips rolling up to meet hers with each bounce, they set a slow, deep pace, continuing to kiss languidly, hands caressing every inch of skin they could reach as they made love.

“Tommy,” she moaned, head falling backward and grasping at his hair tightly. “Tommy.” Her pace quickened, Tommy’s thumb pressing against her clit again, rubbing careful circles. With each stroke he was hitting her in exactly the perfect spot, stars dancing across her vision with each thrust.

“You gonna come for me again, love?” Tommy asked sweetly, devilish grin pulling at his cheeks when he felt her clench down on his cock at the sound of his rumbling voice. “Yeah, that’s it.”

A strangled sob left her lips, sinking her nails into Tommy’s back and earning a growl in response. Her next orgasm shuddered through her powerfully, leaving her legs shaking and head spinning. 

“Good girl,” Tommy praised, sitting up and wrapping her up in his arms, rolling them so that he was once again on top of her. His tempo grew faster with each thrust, fucking her through her second orgasm and almost directly into a third. Lucy moaned impossibly loudly, eyes rolling, the poor little bed rattling and squeaking with their combined movements. 

“I love you,” Tommy growled between thrusts. “I will always love you.” He hooked a leg over his hip, pumping into her furiously. Lucy pulled him down to kiss him hard, clinging to his back, legs wrapping more securely around his hips to keep him close. She could tell, by the way his breathing quickened and his cock twitched and throbbed, that he was close. He pushed her legs open and further back, like he was trying to get as deep inside of her as possible.

“I love you, too,” she said softly against his lips. Tommy moaned. “No matter what.”

He let out a bellowing roar, back arched as his cock twitched and throbbed powerfully inside her. Lucy cried out, the feeling of him pouring his cum inside of her triggering another orgasm, arms wrapping around Tommy’s shoulders while he thrusted as deep inside of her as he could get and stayed there, body trembling in her arms as he came hard.

Slumping against her, Tommy’s head burrowed into the crook of her neck, breath hot where it tickled her skin. His body was warm and heavy on top of hers, a welcome and comforting weight after so long without him. Lucy brought a hand up to stroke through his soft hair, peacefulness washing over them both. After a moment Tommy raised up on his arms, pressing a kiss to her lips before pulling out gingerly and shifting to lay on his side beside her. Or, he tried to. Considering the tiny space of the bed, he ended up situating them more so that she was settled on top of his chest with his arms around her. It reminded her of years ago, back when she would sneak into Tommy’s tiny flat in Small Health and they’d curl up together on his tiny bed, bodies pressed together. A hand petted through her thoroughly mussed red hair.

“Holy fuck.”

She laughed breathlessly, turning her face to press a kiss to the sunbeams tattooed around his pectoral. He ran his thumb along her bottom lip, grinning down at her while he caught his breath. 

“We’ve still got it, eh?”

She stretched up to kiss him tenderly. “Damn right.” Cuddling back into his chest, she let her eyes drop closed contentedly at the familiar warmth of him around her. 

Tommy shifted, grabbing the lighter she’d dropped on the nightstand and a pack of cigarettes that she must have left there, lighting one for himself. For a while they laid in peaceful silence, Lucy beginning to doze on his chest while he traced nonsensical patterns into her skin. There was no doubt in her mind that they weren’t even close to done for the night. If true to habit, Tommy would be ready to go again within a couple more minutes. They had a lot of catching up to do.  

“Tommy?”

“Hm?”

She frowned, trying to figure out how to word the question. Or if she should even ask it at all. It wasn’t really any of her business. Not really. But she couldn’t help but wonder, with the amount in which he’d just came in her…

“How much sex did you have after I moved out?”

He froze. Then reached over slowly to set his cigarette down into the ashtray, and tilted her face up by the chin to look at him. His throat worked, and she saw shame and guilt enter his eyes. 

“Only twice.”

She frowned. She had expected it to be a lot more than that. “That’s it?”

He nodded, wincing. “Once a few days after you moved out. I was drunk and…depressed and Lizzie was there. I think I might’ve called her by your name at one point, but she didn’t say anything about it. And then the second time was in the cupboard at her birthday party.”

Turning onto her side on his chest, she trailed her fingers up and down through the hair that sprouted between his pecs. “Oh. I figured it would be more.”

“I haven’t exactly been in the mood much, recently.” His fingers slid through her hair languidly. “I meant it, you know.”

“Meant what?”

“When I said that it wasn’t the same. It’s not. It’s better with you.”

She felt herself flush all the way from head to toe. “Really?”

“Mhm.” He pecked at her shoulder. “I dreamed about you.”

“You did?”

“Came in my sleep like a fucking teenager.”

She grinned at the mental image. He’d probably been so exasperated once he’d realized what had happened. 

She felt his hips shift a little against her.  

“And there was no one else? Other than Lizzie?”

“No. No one else.” He rubbed his nose along the length of her shoulder. “What about you, hm?”

“Nothing and no one.” She had never felt comfortable enough to be that vulnerable with someone else without Tommy there. With the exception of Grace. “Except my hand, once.” A wicked thought occurred to her. Tilting her head up, she let her lips graze across the base of his neck when she spoke. “In this bed. Thinking of you…”

“Fuck,” his hips bucked, pushing his swelling cock against her hip desperately. Lucy angled her head up to meet him when his mouth came crashing down onto hers.   

As soon they parted, he leaned in to press kisses to her neck. In a smooth movement he rolled them so that he was on top, growing erection grinding against her. Catching at his shoulders, Lucy pulled back just enough to look at him. 

“The others…” she started, biting her lip. “They’re just bodies, right?”

She saw understanding enter Tommy’s eyes at her repeating the term he had used earlier. Getting at what she was really asking. 

“Just bodies,” he agreed, leaning in to kiss her again, then chuckled and shook his head fondly. “As if I could make love to anyone else but you,” he tutted, hands running all over her body.

“Silver tongued bastard,” she crooned affectionately, hands tangling in his hair. Tommy chuckled, the vibrations against her chest making her shiver.

“You’re not going to be able to walk straight after I’m done with you…” his voice was beginning to get growly again, her core clenching around nothing as she whined and arched into the teasing touches that he was laying on her.

“Promises, promises,” she teased, grinning at the way his eyes lit up at the challenge.

And then her head was lolling back onto the pillow, moaning while her hands scrambled at his powerful shoulders, as with one expert forward thrust of his hips, he pushed inside of her once more. 

“Oh my God…” Tommy moaned wantonly, as if he'd just been reunited with the missing half of his soul. His eyes closed, head tipping back, face contorting with bliss. “Fucking hell, sweetheart.”

She gasped at the praise, grabbing onto him fiercely. Her legs squeezed around his hips while she clawed at his back as he set an absolutely brutal pace, thrusting into her so hard that the headboard struck the wall with each one.

Lucy moaned with abandon, not caring if the whole yard could hear her. Good God, how had she ever managed to live without this?

He felt fucking huge. Splitting her open with each thrust, filling her completely. She caught herself staring at the place where they were joined in awe, amazed that something so massive could actually fit in her. His cock glimmered with their combined juices every time he pulled out, a wet squelch sounding when he thrust back in balls deep, skin slapping together when their hips met.

She felt like she might combust from how good it all felt. And then he started talking. 

“This what you thought about, love? In this bed, all on your own? You imagine me splitting you open like this? Fucking you ‘til neither of us can move…Mm…” He thrusted all the way in and stayed there, grinding against her. His pubic bone slid against her clit wonderfully. “Squeezing me so tight, honey,” he purred when he picked the pace back up again. “Shit, you feel so good. Best fucking cunt I’ve ever been in…”

She sobbed at the praise, clinging to him for dear life. With a hand in his hair she dragged his mouth down to hers, kissing him greedily. His pace increased, pounding into her like a fucking animal. The bed creaked and groaned angrily under them.

“Right there,” she squeaked, head falling back against the pillows. The tip of his cock rubbed right up against that spot inside her again, stars bursting behind her eyes. “Right there, don’t stop, Tommy. Tommy, Tommy, Tommy…”

“Fuck,” he grunted, hands fisting in the sheets at either side of her head. “I’m not gonna last.”

She tightened her legs around him, urging him in deeper. His mouth found hers, tongues tangling, devouring each other’s moans. Their hands, the ones with the still healing cuts from their pact in the woods across their palms, entwined. Lucy could feel the band tightening within her. Just a little more…

There was a loud crack, and then a sudden snap from under them. Lucy yelped, finding herself suddenly and momentarily in free-fall. Above her, Tommy’s eyes widened, seizing her in his arms and curling his body protectively around her. 

It took her a moment to realize what happened. The support beams of the bed frame had completely snapped, leaving the mattress to fall unceremoniously onto the floor amongst the wooden wreckage of the broken frame. 

“Shit,” Tommy gasped out, cupping the side of her face. “Are you alright?”

She nodded, looking up at him with wide eyes. “You?” she choked out. He nodded to confirm that he was okay. They looked at each other, and then immediately descended into giggles. 

“Fucking hell,” Tommy chuckled, dropping his head into her neck. “What’s this thing made out of? Rotted wood?”

“It’s old,” she managed between wheezes. “It was already here when I arrived in 1918.”

“Mm,” he hummed, glancing around at the damage and shaking his head. When he returned his gaze to her, she felt the air around them shift again. His eyes darted over her face, lingering on her lips, and she was suddenly deeply aware of the fact that he was still very much buried inside her and throbbing. 

Hand sliding up to brace near her head, Tommy pushed himself up to kiss her again. This time slow and deep. Their mouths moved sensually together, tongues stroking as he started to slowly rock his hips. 

She clung to him like he was a lifeline, cradling his face and running her fingers through his hair. Tommy sighed deeply into her mouth, a hand running along her side to cup and squeeze one of her breasts, then creeping downwards to stroke her clit in time with his thrusts. 

“Ohhh, c’mere,” he shuddered, arm hooking around her, crushing her to his chest. And all the while he kept on kissing her. Over and over again. So tenderly and passionately it made her heart feel as though it were about to explode out of her chest. 

How could she have ever been so stupid as to have doubted his love for her? When he was making love to her like this, it was impossible to think that he didn’t adore her down to his very soul.  

She came softly, with her back arching and a soft gasp of his name shuddering from her mouth. He was not far behind, whispering her name and sweet nothings into her ear as he pressed in and emptied another generous load inside her. 

“This bed is fucking terrible,” he complained, after pulling out and shifting them so that she was laying on his chest once more. Lucy hummed in agreement. 

“Yeah. Probably did everyone a favor by breaking it.”

He snorted, pressing his smile into her hair. Sitting up, she straddled him, Tommy raising an intrigued eyebrow at the position, his hands resting on her hips.  

“You’re my favorite person,” she told him seriously. His eyes softened. 

“You’re my favorite too, sweetheart.”

Rubbing her thumb along his cheek, she smiled at him tenderly, reaching with her other hand for his cock. It twitched in interest against her palm, and Tommy smirked cockily. 

“I’m warning you now,” she leaned forward to murmur in his ear. “I’m gonna put that famous Shelby stamina to the test, my love.”

He looked absolutely delighted at the prospect. His cock throbbed. It didn’t take long for her to have to ready and raring to go once more, guiding him to her entrance and sheathing down onto him with a moan. 

Later, when they’d both kept their promises–him to fuck her until neither of them could move, and her to put his renowned endurance to the test–she looked up at him shyly from her spot curled up on his chest. “Thank you for not letting me go,” she said.

He caressed her cheek with his fingers, touch warm and gentle. “I promised you,” he whispered, as if there had never been any question in his mind that he would keep it. 

∗ ∗ ∗

Charlie was happy for them. Really. They’d both been so miserable during the separation. Everything was back to the way it should be.

But holy fuck, did they have to be so fucking loud about it?

He shot a glower towards the wall at the sound of another loud moan reverberating from the other side.

Fuck’s sake. He’d have thought that they’d have tired themselves out by now. They'd been at it for hours.

His cheeks and ears burned. He had managed to sleep for a little while, but then there’d been the sound of what he could only describe as a small earthquake next door, sending him shooting straight up in bed.

Ever since then, he’d been in and out. Just as he managed to doze off, they’d make some particularly loud racket that sent him jerking awake again. If he didn’t know better he would have suspected that they were doing it on purpose. Not even putting his pillow over his ears was enough to drown them out. 

Silence fell on the other side of the wall, and he let out a sigh of relief, closing his eyes. 

Then there was a loud…wet noise, and Tommy started promptly screaming Lucy’s name loud enough to bring the roof down.  

Nope. Nope. Uncomfortable as it may be to sleep in the stables, it was better than having to listen to this.

He snatched up his pillow and stomped irritably for the door, mumbling under his breath. 

Fucking Shelbys. 

∗ ∗ ∗

Tommy moaned, body shuddering with his orgasm as he pumped his hips at a languish pace a few times before stilling. Pressed deep inside of Lucy, his balls fluttering and tightening with each generous spurt of seed that he was filling her with. Below him, Lucy moaned, hands grasping at his back and shoulders as her walls clenched tight around him with her own release, milking him for absolutely everything he had.

He had awoken to her cradled warm and safe in his arms, red hair spread out on his chest where her head was nestled, their bodies practically intertwined with how closely they were pressed together in the tiny bed, arms and legs tangled together. 

He had fucked her deep into the night. Probably had kept poor Charlie awake with all the noise they’d been making. And when they were finally well and truly exhausted, they’d collapsed into a pile of sweaty, satisfied limbs and fallen asleep. That morning he allowed himself the chance to just admire her for a while as she slept. The soft strands of her hair, the freckles covering her face. The way her limbs twitched in her sleep and she snuggled closer to him. She was heartbreakingly beautiful. His favorite person in the entire world.

It was with soft kisses to her neck that he woke her, hands running adoringly over her soft skin. It had been around when she pressed a sleepy kiss to the tattoo encircling his left pec that his cock had inevitably stirred awake, and they ended up right where they left off the night before.

Now basking in their afterglows, Lucy laughed sweetly, hand petting through his dark hair.

“Good morning to you, too.”

He chuckled, pressing a kiss to a scar on her chest and sitting up. “We have meetings with constituents at the Garrison this morning.”

“How long do we have?”

His eyes glanced at the clock on the wall. “About an hour.”

“Oh, good,” she said, rolling them over so he was on his back with her hovering over him. Tommy laughed, grinning up at her almost boyishly. “We have enough time for this, then,” she murmured huskily, leaning down to kiss him heatedly. 

∗ ∗ ∗  

They just barely managed to be ready in time, pulling on clothes hastily and stuffing down some toast and eggs that Charlie prepared for them in the kitchen before heading outside. Tommy went to do a final quick check on the opium shipment, while Lucy greeted Charlie where he was sitting with his injured leg stretched out in front of him, watching Curly tend to the horses.

“Good morning,” he said to her.

“Morning.”

The man was eyeing her in quiet amusement, eyes darting between her and Tommy, who was walking towards them. “Sleep well?”

She had to bite her lip to keep from laughing. Between her legs, she ached wonderfully, and true to Tommy’s word, she was having a significant amount of trouble walking in a straight line. Her legs felt a little like jelly. “Oh, yes. Very much so.”

“Mhm.” Charlie smirked. ”Good.”

“You?”

“Bah. It was fine. These two assholes next door keep waking me up with the absurdly loud sex they were having, though.”

She cringed. “Shit. Sorry.”

Charlie shrugged with a smile, patting her on the arm. “I’m just glad that everything’s back to the way it should be, kiddo.”

“Hello, Charlie,” Tommy finally made his way over to them. 

“Shouldn’t you two be getting going if you don’t want to be late? I hear that they line up down the street sometimes to get a chance to talk to you.”

“Yeah, we do. But here, before we go,” he reached into his coat and pulled out a wad of cash, counting it out and passing it to Charlie. “For the bed.”

Charlie frowned. “What the fuck happened to the bed?”

“Tommy happened.” Lucy quickly pointed the blame. Tommy’s brows rose. 

“From what I remember it was very much a group effort.”

She bit her lip to try to keep from laughing. Charlie groaned, making a face.

“Ugh, God, I don’t want to know anymore. Just get out of my yard, you insatiable animals.”

Taking his advice, Tommy took hold of her hand, beginning to pull her towards the exit. 

“After we’re done meeting with constituents, we can go home,” he mumbled cheekily into her ear. “We have a whole new bed there to christen.” His eyes danced mischievously. “Maybe we’ll break that one too.”

Stopping them before they could leave the safety of the yard, she cupped both his cheeks with one hand. “Charlie’s right. You are insatiable.”

“Look who’s talking.”

She grinned, and leaned in when he kissed her. 

∗ ∗ ∗  

She did ask the question, later. As she would, every once in a while. For forever. But not always because she was beginning to have doubts, or because her insecurities were getting the better of her. Sometimes, she just wanted to hear his answer.

“Do you love me?” 

And Tommy answered in the same way that he would answer for the rest of their days. 

“Yes; I love you. I love you more than anything.”

Previous Chapter • Series • Fic • Next Part

Thank you for reading! Please consider leaving a comment, reblog, or like. I always appreciate feedback and love getting the opportunity to interact with you and hear your thoughts!

[my-own-lilypad]

Can someone PLEASE make a gif of Alfie saying, "Tommy, when a pikey walks in with hair like that, you've gottu ask yourself, have I made a mistake?" Funniest line delivery in the whole series. Pleeeeease.

Cillian Murphy and Tom Hardy as Tommy Shelby and Alfie Solomons in Peaky Blinders (2013-2022)

[cillianmurphyfanatic]

Cillian Murphy as Michael McCrea in Perrier's Bounty (2009) dir. Ian Fitzgibbon

[deadlyfeel]

[novashelby]

"I Once Saw You"- Tommy Shelby x Reader Angst

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x Reader Warnings: Hints of depression-otherwise, nothing Word Count: 250 Summary: She is upset that Tommy returned a new man.

There was a time in her life where she saw him in everything peaceful. In the midst of the dark and gray city, engulfed in factory dust and bustling mayhem, she found him in the small trinkets of serenity. The smell of fresh bread every time the bakery doors opened reminded her of his warmth; like a hug on a hard day. Or the flowers that popped up around the city in people’s windows; a bit of color in the clouds that rested above. It represented his smile that wore bright and large. And the school children on her way to work; their laughs of glee and innocence was him and hers last string of youth. They were his laughs and jokes, and insistent pestering that never seemed to annoy her. It was there, weaved in the crevices of the world around them. 

But that was before. After the tunnels cut and scarred him, sucking out everything that made him human and leaving whatever was left. The bread, the laughing, the flowers…they all soon meant nothing. What she once saw in them, she turned to dark clouds, dusty air, and gray life. He no longer hugged like warm bread. Instead, he hardly hugged at all. His smile became smaller until it was nothing more than a burden to his emotions and his laugh was soulless, often accompanied by alcohol. 

And when it became too much, she one day asked, “Tommy, why do you never smile for me?”

Simply, he looked over at her, showing more emotion and attention to his cigarette. “You should go home and tend to things that mean something.”

[special-agent-fiction]

I'd just like to say a huge thank you to everyone who has taken the time to read, like and reblog this in the last week.

I've been so excited watching the notes rack up as I've never had engagement like this before!

Thank you from the bottom of my heart ❤️

The Cost of Silence

Full disclosure, I haven't written anything in literal years and I've never written for this fandom. And then this just...happened? I don't know what the plot is but I had to get it down.

The Cost of Silence - Thomas Shelby x Reader

For a man who bought silence with little thought to its cost, morally or financially, Thomas Shelby appeared increasingly concerned with how much it was going to cost him to hear your voice again.

Gifts had been arriving at Arrow House almost daily for a few weeks and each was met with the same disregard; a blank expression as you passed the newest Bentley parked on the drive, cold indifference to the clothes hanging in your wardrobe and an almost comical eyebrow quirk at an apparent sudden interest in art.

Today’s expensive gift was met with the same lack of interest as you closed the lid of the long red box that had become synonymous with a Shelby apology with a single finger and pushed it away from the pristine plate setting awaiting you in the dining room.

You cared little for the rows of diamonds that sat within the case. Cared less for the obvious displays of wealth that surrounded you. You were not born to be oblivious to the luxury that was your current life, years ago you would have ached for a mere glimpse inside the house you now resided in, but life in this increasingly gilded cage had numbed you.

You often longed to feel the soft notches of the table in Watery Lane as you ran your hand along the impressive mahogany piece you now ate at. Dreamt of the cobblestones under foot as you wandered the gravel driveway in twilight, longed for the ache of a day’s work in your bones.

Poverty was a strange thing to want, but with simplicity came an honesty that your life was currently lacking. You could not bring yourself to look him in the eye anymore, let alone share a smile.

You couldn’t pinpoint the moment you decided to silence yourself; couldn’t remember what atrocity had been the final straw. If anything, it had happened gradually, your voice ignored in family meetings, opinions disregarded as plans were formed, and so you began to hold back, bite your tongue and fade into the background of the life he had carefully curated in this countryside pile.

You knew it was irritating him. The thought brought a rare smile to your lips as he huffed softly from the doorway behind you, watching as your fingers skimmed past the new first editions in the library and landed on a well-worn, market-stolen title that you had brought to Arrow House when it was still new to you.

Words were not something you were able to find solace in in your life before here, your days were too busy to have the time to curl up and appreciate a book. Recently though they were you only companion in this cold house. He had noticed of course, he always notices. A newer, softer chair appeared in the parlour, a glistening tea set waited for you, the fire was stoked more frequently, and yet you remained on the hard, deep-set windowsill that offered you a glimpse at the outside world when your eyes tired of the page. Obstinance felt almost exhilarating these days.

The gifts changed from generically expensive to a more tailored selection; a new saddle, your favourite flowers planted under the bedroom window. And still you denied him. You kept your voice a murmur when talking to the staff, only laughed when he was away and refused to elaborate when questioned by visiting family.

It was noticeable now to anyone who visited the house. Family quirked an eyebrow when you walked away from meetings, their eyes flitting between you and Thomas as you sat silently through dinner, a low chuckle at their leader’s frustration. Thomas was a man who always won a battle of wills, and he was losing spectacularly.

And then he piqued your curiosity.

The office door left ajar when he had an important telephone call. Papers for the foundation you’d long planned to set up. Ledgers left open on the coffee table.

As much as you knew about how to irritate him, he knew about you. The bastard.

You stopped yourself many times; forced your hand down when reaching for a pen to jot a note in the margins of a memo, stopped yourself from adjusting a purposefully wrong number. It took everything in you not to help with the business you’d helped birth.

And then came the storm.

Gunmetal clouds filled the sky, the birds quietened, and thunder rolled in the distance. The drizzle of morning rain had dampened the estate, the heaviness in the air muffling all sound of life. When the first crack of lightening hit just outside the stable block you were already inside trying to soothe the enormous stallion that was an expensive new addition to the block.

You’d anticipated his jitters, had spent most of the afternoon gently grooming him, humming softly as he calmed. You thought you’d pre-empted the worst of it but even you jumped at the proximity of the bolt. You barely had time to register the piercing whinny or notice the beginnings of a rear-up before one leather clad hand was on the bridle the other sweeping you behind Thomas before he reached out to calm the steed. Your breaths were laboured as the horse calmed, your eyes wide as you watched Thomas whisper softly to the animal, its chest rising and falling in time with your own as you calmed simultaneously, Thomas’ soothing voice washing over both of you. It wasn’t the first time a horse had reared on you and wouldn’t be the last, it wasn’t the animal that spooked you it was the speed at which Thomas appeared. How long had he been loitering in the shadows of the stable block? Had he watched you lavish love on the beast he had bought as part of his apology accumulation?

You reached out to rub gently at the neck of your almost-trampler, eyes avoiding Thomas as you mirrored his actions, managing a brief nod at his question on your wellbeing. But for the first time in a while it wasn’t defiance that silenced you.

Gifts and gestures gave way to peaceful companionship. Where he had previously watched from the shadows and tried to elicit a response with baiting, he now stepped forward and joined your silence.

You walked together never sharing a word, rode side-by-side without comment, sat opposite each other with only fireplace crackles filling your evenings. You watched his eyes crinkle slightly as his nieces and nephews ran circles around the ground, watched his tight breath as he fought to keep composure on the telephone, smiled behind your book as he endured another ticking off from Polly. The office door stayed open, the flowers under your window bloomed and you remembered what made you want to share this life in the first place.

Throughout your silence, your morning routine had gone unchanged. Breakfast was often the only meal you and Thomas shared; the plate settings always formal in this grand room, letters gently set on a silver tray next to you and a newspaper ironed and folded next to his. This room had seen many a silent war between you both as you rejected gift after gift, unsaid words hanging heavily between you both, the house always gloomy in anticipation of the clash.

Yet this morning there was sunshine washing the dark floors as you descended the staircase. You could see blue skies in every window and hear the gentle movements of the staff as they worked. You entered the dining room to a familiar sight; Thomas reclined slightly, newspaper in hand, breakfast untouched. Your eyes landed on your assigned seat, danced over the freshly cut bloom sat in a silver bud vase and the absence of any other bribe at your place.

The jolt of surprise would be worth it, you decided. You would allow him the win. Afterall, you needed to rectify those ledger mistakes.

You fingered the soft petals as his usual greeting reached you, eyed the smudge of dirt on his shoe-tip for confirmation and took a breath.

“Good morning.”

In the end, it cost him nothing to break your silence. And that was the point.

[elizabethblood9]

Okay I DO HAVE A type of man... (Part 1)

[cillianmesoftlyyy]

Tired and Torn | William Killick x fem!OC

summary: William Killick wakes up in a London hospital after a bombing raid where he is separated from his date, Vera Phillips. A pretty nurse offers to help him find her but after all their searching, he may not like what he finds and end up missing what he left behind.

He has one month before he goes back.

warnings: Graphic descriptions of war casualties and destruction, blood, and medical care, some misogynist undertones, drinking, getting drunk.

word count: 4615k

Desolation Row- Bob Dylan 🎶

I've Been Let Down- Mazzy Star 🎶

fyi- this will be another one of my famous (and bemoaned) multi-part series

I. 

One second she was in his arms, the next, she was dead. Blown up and scattered somewhere, was Vera Phillips. The underground nightclub was supposed to be safe, far from the reach of Nazi bombs and lingering blasts. They had been dancing. Vera had finally said yes to a date with the young, attractive Officer, William Killick. She’d been such a bitch to him, unnecessarily so. After days of pestering her with free drinks and compliments, she still had turned him down with cruel flirtation. When he would give up, she’d reel him in once again with lingering looks and playful teasing. She wanted him to love her, but had no intention of loving him back. But tonight, she’d said yes. 

When the explosion happened, Killick was flung through the air and landed roughly on a bar table, but otherwise unharmed. The impact knocked him unconscious and when he came to, the place was dark except for the moonlight that shone through the massive rift in the ground above. He pushed the debris off his body and when he could stand, he searched through the rubble for Vera. Bodies and glass alike littered the ground, the crunching sounds beneath his feet made it hard to distinguish between them. Smoke rose around him and his ears were ringing. War had made him more alert, more adaptable, so he quickly pulled himself together enough to survey the damage. He didn’t see Vera anywhere, though he did see body parts mingled amongst the debris. He expected to find some part of her, somewhere, even to find her alive; but he found nothing. After helping a delirious woman to the street where survivors were congregating, he searched their faces for Vera. She was not among them.

He was crowded into an ambulance with four other people, each lying on a stretcher connected like bunk beds to the wall. He was the only one able to sit up and speak, but he had nothing to say. His mind kept replaying the images of destruction he’d seen. He felt a tremendous amount of anger at himself for not keeping Vera safe. What kind of officer was he if he couldn’t protect just one person? Vera should have been with him in that ambulance. How was it that their fates were so different when they were only inches apart? It could have been him… 

Killick’s ears were still ringing when he was carried into the hospital. The dim gas lamps made it hard for him to see as doctors and nurses ran around him into different rooms. Black fabric covered the windows to deter enemy planes from spotting London from the sky. Obviously, they had still been able to see something from the ground or the underground bar would not have been targeted. Vera would not have been dead. 

“Officer Killick? Can you hear me?” A woman’s voice coaxed him back to the present. He turned his heavy head, blinked, and managed to nod weakly. 

“Yes,” his voice was strained, dampened by smoke and shock. The nurse who stared back at him set down her clipboard and rolled up her powder-blue sleeves. She didn’t smile, though her eyes crinkled as if she were. Maybe she would have smiled at the handsome officer if he hadn’t been there under those circumstances. 

“I’m nurse Dark and I’m going to take a look at you, ok?” She asked him softly and pulled on two clean gloves. Her hair was pulled back into a cap, something a nun might wear, but Killick could still make out strands of her hair peeking out from beneath her cap. She was blonde - - not like Vera. When Killick nodded again, she applied her hand gently to his stomach. 

“Tell me if there’s any pain.” The nurse moved her hands down his body, checking his face for reactions of pain as she went. He shook his head. 

“No pain,” he grunted and looked up at the ceiling. 

“Good, now let me check your head.” She carded her gloved fingers through his dark brown hair, checking for cuts and fragments of stray glass. She passed her finger down the side of his head and clucked her tongue when she reached his neck. “You have a pretty nasty cut hiding under your jaw.” She checked the other side and then moved away. Killick watched her wearily, his head now throbbing. 

“You need stitches on your neck there but everything else seems fine. No broken bones or anything,” she added and crossed in front of the bed to a cart of medical supplies. 

“Nothing else?” Killick muttered, dazed and angry. The nurse turned quickly, catching the tone in his voice. 

“I don’t know what to say, sir. I wish there was something comforting I could tell you. God knows you get enough combat on the continent.” She bit her lip awkwardly and then went back to the cart. Eventually, the nurse went to his side again and wiped tenderly at his wound. Killick turned his head slightly to the opposite side, hoping she wouldn’t see his lip quiver. 

“I was on a date,” Killick said quietly. He blinked away the tears forming in the corners of his eyes. “What kind of man am I to let her die?” 

She withdrew her hand quickly, hovering the cotton pad over his skin. 

“I couldn’t find her in the rubble…” he said more to himself than to her, “it was so dark. I couldn’t make anything out.” He clenched his jaw tightly as he felt himself start to cry. He was not the kind of man to cry. He heard the nurse move away from the bed and he looked over. The young woman closed the door to the small room and drew the privacy screen over the window. Once that was done, she returned to his side. Finally meeting his inquisitive look, she shrugged softly and shook her head. 

“I thought you could use some privacy, sir. What you just went through, well… I think it's only right that you have a moment to be human, not just a man.” Her words were gentle and kind. His embarrassment wavered as she took up her work again. 

“Thank you,” Killick finally responded and cleared his throat. His watery blue eyes darted to the side then returned to the wall. 

The nurse took her time cleaning the wound before she stitched it up. The pads of her fingers danced across his skin, poking the tendons in his neck as she worked. She smelled like soap, clean things, and hot water. Killick found the smell oddly comforting and felt himself finally coming out of shock. 

“What’s your name?” He asked, trying to keep his neck as still as possible. 

“Nurse Dark.” 

“I mean your first name, sister.”

She smiled and shook her head lightly, placing a metal instrument back on its tray. 

“I’m not allowed to tell you that, sir. It's one of the most important rules of nursing we follow here, never share your Christian name with a patient.” 

“You can’t be serious,” he snorted and rolled his eyes.

“Oh but I am, sir.”

“Will I ever know your full name or will you remain my anonymous caretaker?” 

“Do you think it’s important to know my Christian name?” 

“I think it's one of the most important aspects of who we are as individuals. We lose something to one another without our names.”

It was silent between them again as she considered his response. She watched the ridge of his neck move as he breathed slowly. 

“Rebecca, sir. My name is Rebecca.” She whispered her name as if it were a secret, her voice running like a feather over the curve of Killick’s ear. 

“It’s nice to meet you, Rebecca.” His voice was low and smooth, reminding her for some reason of a rich espresso. She paused momentarily, her tweezers frozen above the stitch until she remembered herself. 

“Until the rescue team has sorted through the remains of the structure, we don’t know for sure that she isn’t alive. It’s possible she escaped and got lost in the aftermath. If you give me her name, I can look for her here.” The nurse offered in a small, distracted voice. She spoke with her tongue held slightly to the right which was how she concentrated. Killick swallowed before answering. 

“Vera Phillips.” 

“I’ll look once we’re done here, sir.” She assured him. 

“Thank you,” he whispered and closed his eyes, willing that the nurse was right and in some miraculous stroke of luck, Vera had managed to get out alive. 

“There will be some scarring but it’ll be somewhat hidden by your collar.” Rebecca drew a finger just beneath the stitches, checking her work. “The neck is hard to work with because it moves so much.” She threw away her gloves and wrote a few things down on her clipboard. Killick straightened up and ensured there were no tears on his face. 

“You wouldn’t have a mirror would you?” He tried to smile as he asked. His hands were covered in dirt and ash, he could only assume what his face must look like. Rebecca smiled and retrieved a small compact mirror from her pocket. 

“Bloody Hell,” Killick muttered when he saw his reflection. Soot and blood were streaked across his face, blood that he assumed wasn’t his own. He gave the mirror back and cleared his throat. “I thought I’d be used to seeing that by now… but it’s so different to see it here. The war feels so foreign to my life in London. It’s almost like I didn’t think blood existed anywhere else.”

“I can imagine,” the nurse nodded and submerged a cloth in the bowl of water by the cart. She squeezed out the excess water and sat on the edge of the officer’s bed. “I sometimes forget that war can touch us here too. It already has,” she met his eyes briefly and wiped the cloth across cheek, removing the grime. 

Killick watched her face as she cleaned him. Her face was rounded with dimples in each cheek. Her long eyelashes fluttered as she blinked. 

“When do you go back?” 

“In a month,” he looked down at his uniform. Even his dark wool uniform seemed in-tact and undamaged beneath the blood. A few of his medals and bars had been dislodged and some were missing but it’s not like any of that mattered to him. 

“Army?” She raised a neatly trimmed eyebrow and he smiled. 

“Yes.” 

“Thank you for your service, sir.” She smiled kindly as she finished cleaning his face and moved to his hands. Killick scoffed but said nothing in response. She worked quickly to clean between his long fingers and the curvatures of joints and bone. When his hands were fairly clean, Rebecca put the cloth back by the bowl and wiped her hands on her apron. 

“Sit tight, I’m going to go check our patient list for your girl.” The nurse excused herself and disappeared into the hallway. Killick's eyes followed after her until he could no longer see her. 

x 

Killick felt his eyes starting to close as he waited for the nurse to return. To deal with the trauma of his evening, his body was trying to lull himself into sleep. He was tempted to give in and pretend nothing had happened. Sleep would make him forget for a while. But as he started to fall asleep, he heard the door open again. The nurse had come back, an apologetic expression on her beautiful features (wait, did he just describe her as ‘beautiful?’).

“They haven’t transported all of the survivors yet but they don’t have a Vera Phillips and there aren’t any patients with that name here. They’re still actively searching the rubble, so she may still show up. I also didn’t see her name on the list of confirmed dead. I know that isn’t much comfort but it means that anything is possible right now.” 

Killick closed his eyes slowly and nodded. “Right, thank you.” His strong, British reserve took over as he swung his legs over the side of the hospital bed. 

“Are you sure you don’t want to stay at the hospital until morning? While you weren’t seriously injured, I worry about you getting home in your state of shock.” 

“I am perfectly capable,” Killick argued as he stood and fixed his uniform, “of getting home.” The nurse stayed by the door, her hands grasped around the doorknob. 

“I’m not sure that I believe you,” she observed matter-of-factly and raised one eyebrow. Killick stopped in his tracks and pinched the bridge of his nose. Dark hair fell into his face and he swept it out of the way. 

“I appreciate your care but I’d rather be in my own home right now.” 

Killick walked a few more steps before losing his balance slightly and bracing himself on the wall behind the nurse. She looked up at him for a brief moment with surprise, their faces close enough to exchange secrets, before looking away and clearing her throat. She stepped aside and opened the door to the hallway. 

“Excuse me,” Killick apologized, embarrassed too. He righted himself and ran his hand over his mouth. He stepped through the door and looked back at the nurse, standing in the doorway with her hand resting on the doorframe. 

“Thank you, nurse Dark.” He met her eyes and nodded his head curtly. He looked her briefly up and down before he turned away.

“Take care, sir.” The nurse called after him as he walked away from her, down the dark hallway. He could feel her eyes resting on his back as he walked. He could have stayed… he should have stayed the night, he thought. But as soon as he was out of the hospital standing on the dark street, he realized his overwhelming fear for Vera’s life. Was she still out there?

Instead of going back to his lodging he returned to the place of the underground bar, hoping to help aid in their search for survivors. When he neared the site, he saw small torches moving in the pit below and the calls of men as they communicated with one another. Bodies covered with crude materials were lined up along the side of a neighboring building. He approached the bodies and started to remove the cover on one of them when someone stopped him. When the man saw Killick’s uniform he stepped back. 

“Oh, sorry officer.” 

“I’m looking for my girlfriend,” he heard himself lie, though it wasn’t much of a lie. He was looking for a girl who would have become his girlfriend eventually, if this hadn’t happened.  

“Oh, well she wouldn’t be in this group. These were the musicians in the band and the singer. You should check the hospital.” 

“I was just there,” he muttered and ran a hand through his hair, overwhelmed again by the memories of the last few hours. He could still hear the music that was being played before the explosion, he knew where it had stopped too. 

“Were you here,” the man pointed to the remains of the bar, “when it happened?” 

Killick turned slowly to the man and blinked slowly. He felt intoxicated and distant, like he was playing a character in a scene. 

“Yes, yes I was.” 

“What’s your girlfriend’s name?” The man asked, looking at the Officer with concern. 

Killick took a deep breath and closed his eyes, “Uh V-Vera Phillips. Vera Phillips. She must have gotten out. She’s around here somewhere.” 

“I’ll keep an eye out. You should sit down, you don’t look well.” 

“I told the nurse I would go home,” he whispered deliriously and stumbled away. The man called after him but he was too far gone.

x

“You’re back.”

A familiar voice spoke to him in the darkness. Officer Killick wearily opened his eyes and blinked, adjusting to the light. He was in a hospital room once again though this time, it was day. Sunlight still streamed in through the blacked out windows, an unwelcome guest after so much darkness. Killick tried to sit up but a hand directed him back down against the mattress. It squeaked. 

“What…?” He groaned and looked around for the voice. 

When his eyes focused, he saw the same nurse from before. She was sitting in a chair beside his bed, with a tired smile. 

“You…” he whispered, remembering her face. 

“Yes, and you, Officer Killick. You’re supposed to be at home. Do you remember how you got back here?” She asked quietly and offered him a small cup of water. Killick took it and drank slowly. When his throat was less dry, he shook his head.

“I remember walking home after I went back to the bar.”

“You tried to walk home but you collapsed and were taken back here.” 

“I’m helpless. They should kick me out of the army,” Killick rubbed his eyes and drank the rest of his water. 

“You’re not there quite yet but you do need to rest for a little while longer. You’ve been asleep since they brought you in.” 

“Have you heard anything about Vera?” He sighed and set his cup on the table beside his bed. 

“No, I’m sorry. If I hear anything, I promise that you will be the first to know,” she patted his hand on instinct before quickly withdrawing her hand and folding it on her lap, blushing. Killick looked from his hand to the nurse and nodded. 

“Eh, thank you.” 

“Are your ears ringing?” Rebecca changed the subject quickly. Killick paused to listen, a dull vibration sounded through his head. He massaged his temples and nodded.

“A little.”

“I’m afraid you just have to wait for that to go away on its own. Your stitches are fine though, I already checked them. You were lucky you didn’t rip them and bleed out.” She fixed her cap and stood. Killick watched her hips sway slightly as she walked. He was in a large room with a dozen other men. Nurses hurried between beds, following doctors with charts and medications. The nurse stood at the foot of his bed and pulled the cap from her head, annoyed. 

“Damn cap keeps getting in my way. I don’t know why they dress us like sisters here.” 

“Isn’t that what you are, sister?” Killick tried to laugh but it stopped short. The nurse nodded and rolled her eyes. 

“They only call us that here. In America, they’d call me a nurse.”

“Do you have something against the term ‘sister?’” Killick raised his eyebrow tauntingly. The nurse’s hair fell in a short cut that cupped just below her jaw. He tried not to stare as she combed her fingers through it. 

“Only that no convents would take me,” she smiled as she re-pinned her cap to her head, “I’m not very good at religion. Failed that subject in school.” 

“Catholic?” 

“Church of England,” she corrected him and her dimples deepened. 

“That makes two of us. There aren’t many convents for the Church of England,” his eyes squinted playfully, the blue disappearing behind the curtains of his dark eyelashes.

“Probably for the best,” she shrugged, “less rejections.” 

They laughed quietly until a second nurse stopped to ask her a question. Nurse Dark nodded, her face now serious. When the second nurse left, she turned to Killck and sighed through her nose.

“I get off in an hour but I’ve told the nurses about your situation. They’ll go to you if they hear anything about Vera Phillips.” She grasped her hands together and took a step away from the young Officer. 

“Thank you…” he responded quietly as he watched her slowly move away. He tried to think of something to say to bring her back, to delay her further.  

“I hope you find her, Officer Killick,” her lips drew together into a pretty bow. She looked down at her hands, trying to hide the feeling of falsity she felt in that statement. How horrible could she be to wish the exact opposite? She saw him nod through her eyelashes and turned on her heels to leave the ward. As she approached the doorway leading out of the men’s ward, she heard the man call after her.

“Sister!” The words left his mouth on an impulse. As soon as he heard himself call after her, he forgot what he’d wanted to say. Killick wasn’t the type to blush so he furrowed his eyebrows, feigning confidence. The nurse turned, looking around to see if anyone noticed the Officer’s outburst. Her heart skipped a beat to hear him call for her. Killick cleared his throat as she came closer and licked his lips nervously. 

“Yes?” Rebecca picked at her nails behind her back. 

“Perhaps… perhaps I could call your home once I’m discharged?” 

Rebecca felt herself blush deeply and bit her lip, trying to hide the way the request made her feel. She knew that she shouldn’t be so excited about the prospect of seeing the man again, especially after he may have just lost a girl he’d been seeing. It felt like the beginning of a bad idea. And yet, she said yes. 

She wrote down the number of her home phone and address on a slip of prescription paper and watched as Killick slipped it into his uniform’s breast pocket. He patted it and smiled with his cool, calm eyes that made the nurse’s knees weak. 

“That’s the number of the flat I’m renting. If someone else answers, ask for me. Goodbye, Officer Killick,” she put her hands into her apron pockets and left the ward, smiling over her shoulder as attractively as she could. 

x

When he was discharged the next day, he collected the few things that he had with him and made for the door to the ward. He was the only man in uniform around which made him feel isolated and different from the rest of the world. He clenched his jaw as he passed the wandering, frightful eyes of those around him. They admired him in his smart toffee-colored uniform and medals, pegging him for someone important. He wasn’t, really. But the way his dark hair fell across his eyebrows and his stern face framed the brightness of his eyes produced a collected sense of expectation… for what? 

The lobby of the hospital opened out onto the busy street corner of London. Newspapers in nearby stands proclaimed the fatal bombing of a London nightclub. Twenty people dead or missing. He thought he should probably tell someone, call Vera’s family, her roommate, anyone. Vera was probably dead and no one knew but him. But the obvious problem was that Killick barely knew her, he didn’t even know where she lived. Large red omnibuses passed as he tried to think. He could check a phone book or call the police. He crossed the street quickly and entered a telephone booth. As he patted his pockets for change, his hand brushed the folded note in his breast pocket. The paper with her home number stenciled in pretty cursive still smelled like her skin, her perfume- subtle, savory. He pushed the thought away and waited for the operator to pick up. 

The operator gave him the last known address for Vera Phillips, a small studio apartment somewhere downtown. He followed the street signs as he’d followed orders in the army, blindly. He’d been in London before so he knew roughly where he was going but his brain still felt fuzzy and cold as if he’d been frozen and hadn’t yet thawed. When he stepped up to the drab, two story apartment he removed his hat and exhaled heavily through his house. He had no idea if Vera was living with anyone, if she had a landlady, etc. He half-expected to receive no reply as he knocked on the door and rang the bell once. But he heard the sound of heels hurrying over carpet and words exchanged under breath. 

The door swung open. Vera.

“William? What are you doing here? How did you get my address?” Vera was smoking a cigarette and fixing her hair at the same time. She sounded distracted. Killick stared back at her, his lips falling open in bewilderment.

“You’re alive?” He whispered, his throat suddenly tight and awkward. Vera looked back at him, focusing now. 

“Yes,” she answered simply with a nod. 

“Vera… I looked everywhere for you after the bomb fell. I thought you were dead.” 

“Well I-I’m not,” she chuckled awkwardly and went back to fixing her hair for what would be her hairdo for her night performance. Killick clenched his jaw and his eyes narrowed. 

“Obviously.” 

She looked at him for a moment, processing his pointed tone and sighed. “Killick, you really shouldn’t bother. I appreciate your worry and concern, really I do, but we hardly know each other.”

“A bomb fell on us,” he responded shortly, obviously. 

“And we survived.”

“I nearly didn’t because I went back to look for you,” he snapped, his anger rising. 

“Oh…” she started and looked away awkwardly. Killick watched her and noticed for the first time how mean she really was, how horribly plain. 

“Well seeing as you are alive,” he nodded once and stepped down off the doorstep, “goodbye Vera.” 

Vera looked after him as he turned and put his officer’s cap back on. 

“Killick…” she started before taking a drag. He turned, waiting to hear what she had to say but when she offered nothing else, he shook his head and scoffed. 

“I kept looking for you. I was in Hospital twice and kept looking for you because I knew I’d want the same if you were in my position. But you wouldn’t have. You would’ve left me.” 

Vera stared back, her glassy eyes wide and ashamed. She still said nothing so Killick left, anger struggling against every other emotion in his body. He crossed the street and kept walking until he found a pub with enough people inside that he could beg anonymity. All he could do was drink. The publican gave him two free pints and space enough to brood by himself at the corner of the bar. He was still in his uniform and stuck out like a sore thumb but his expression deterred even the most desperate young lady. He played with his knuckles against the bar counter, a cigarette resting between his fingers. The pale skin reflected the light shining in from the window behind him. He scowled down at his glass and pinched the bridge of his nose, easing the tension between his eyes. After another two pints he looked over his shoulder to watch the blue-collar men still left in London walk home to their wives after the workday. 

“Damn it all,” he muttered, slurring only slightly, and reached into his breast pocket for the note still sitting there. He took it out and rolled it open between his forefinger and his thumb, thinking. He wet his lips, took a long drag, and exhaled slowly. Killick leaned back in his seat and smoked slowly. 

Rebecca… Rebecca… Rebecca. 

The name echoed back to him like a whisper from a buried memory. He wasn’t a good man for doing what he was about to do. But was he really sober enough to be held accountable for his bad decisions? The nurse… God the nurse. She wouldn’t judge him, maybe she’d even fuck him. He nodded drunkenly to himself and paid for all four drinks when he was required to only pay for two. That made him feel better about himself, poor guy. 

[blinders-grace]

Tommy and Grace have the vibe of a couple that would agree to stop having kids after the fourth or fifth but then have an oops baby when their other kids are in their teens 

[fiercelittlemouse]

Ummm... I need a moment...

I wasn't really planning to read this right now because my attention is nonexistent at the moment, but as I was scrolling through the chapter I was like: umm no, you're reading this right now haha

This was intense! From the begging, I was nervous and looking for confirmation that Arthur is alive even though I knew he would be I just needed to be sure😂. And I'm so glad that the baby is okay!!!

And Tommy having to tell her that Arthur is alive is something I kinda predicted (because I'm pretty sure she'd kill him if he didn't tell her lol) but the ending is something I definitely did not predict😳

But! I loved the chapter and I can't wait to see what happens next! I'm sorry this comment is not as long or detailed as I'd like it to be but I still wanted to let you know that I enjoyed it a lot. <3

Heaven in Your Eyes || Tommy Shelby x You

Summary: For safety purpose and following Arthur's death, you are forced to live under your enemy and unforgiving brother-in-law's roof. It's only you and Tommy between the dreadful walls of Arrow house where grief, hatred, and attraction blend.

some musical background to read + the song that inspired it.

Words: 6.5k

TW: angst, rocky dynamic, pinning, sexual tension, graphic description of violence, strangulation, very very strong sexual innuendos, mention of blood, murder and grief, alteration of canon events + time.

Notes:

✞ Heaven in Your Eyes is an Arthur Shelby story but considering what happens to him in this part of S4, this chapter and the next one will be entirely focused on Reader/Heaven's relationship with Tommy.

✞ This is chapter 17 of the Arthur Shelby x You series Heaven in Your Eyes. Each chapter can be read as stand-alone.

PREVIOUS || Masterlist || NEXT PART

Your pale aquamarine eyes opened to an unfamiliar ceiling, far too different from the ceiling of your house in Watery Lane. The soft glow of morning light filtered through the dark and heavy curtains of the guest bedroom that was bathed in warm shadows. The bedding was too smooth, giving you the unpleasant impression that the mattress was slowly but surely swallowing you whole. As for the room itself, it was too silent, with no trace of the reassuring sounds or smells of your own home, like the floral fragrance of the lily of the valley perfume Arthur sprayed on your pillow each night before sleeping, fully aware that it reminded you of your mother.

A little cry escaped your lips when you turned your head towards the half-hidden window; its blinding light making your head throbbed painfully. You tried to move but your whole body ached, like a cruel and dull echo of the chaos that had ripped your world apart the night before. The chaos who took Arthur, your sweet Arthur, from you.

 Arthur.  With your heart pounding in your chest to the rhythm of invisible drums, you sat up – certainly a bit too violently. As the room spun around you, you clawed the fabric of the blanket not to fall back on the bed. Breathe, Hev. Just breathe, you told yourself. Exhaling slowly through your nostrils, you waited a bit until the dizziness and nausea became bearable and only then did you proceed to scan your surroundings. The place you had woken up in was a spacious bedroom, impeccably furnished yet so sparsely decorated that it ended up cold and impersonal. Just like a furniture store. But despite the unfamiliar setting, the peculiar smell of wood and faint traces of cigarette smoke that lingered in the air rung a bell. You recognized the man who owned it immediately.

Arrow House?

Tommy.

The memories violently surged back. The images of Arthur’s blood, the frenzied struggled to save him, the stabbing of a first Italian, then the murder of another, all of this leading to the moment you had lost consciousness. What the hell happened after? Why were you in Arrow House? Where was Arthur? Questions buzzed in your mind like a hive of furious hornets crashing against your skull. Through the fog, you thought you remembered Thomas’ low voice and arms wrapping you just before you fainted, but you weren’t sure – so came the necessity of finding out. Your sly hands shook as you scrambled out of the bed, even though the cold surface of the floor managed to ground you when your feet touched its polished wood.

You needed to find Tommy and ask for an explanation – or excavate that same explanation from him by using sheer strength and torture if you had to. Yes, you needed to know if Arthur made it. If he was safe, because he had to be safe after everything you did. He had to be safe, or else what would be left of you beside an empty shell? Wasting no time, you rushed out of the room like a fury without minding your poor state. In fact, your legs wobbled beneath your weight as you pushed the door open and made your way through the cool hallway, head spinning with disorientation. For sure, staying in bed would have been the best option but, as was the case that night you fled from your little town in the mountains, a combination of rage and panic controlled you. You braced yourself against the wall, your fingers curling into the wood and tapestry for balance. Each meters reached took a disproportionate amount of effort, each step felt unsteady. Your determination might be spotless, but your body betrayed as you swayed, to the extent that you careened into the wall with a dull thud from time to time. And when it weren’t the walls, it was the uneven carpet that made you almost trip. That damn corridor seemed endless, but the more you walked the sharper the scent of Tommy’s tobacco reached your senses and lifted the haze you were embedded in.

Little King Shelby was there.

That sole observation swept away the remnant of sickness you felt, your energy all regained as your steps, usually light and ethereal, echoed through the expensive house of Arrow house – a sumptuous mansion whose beauty only equaled its claustrophobic and maddening emptiness. The grand, austere décor loomed all around you in rich, dark wood paneling, chandeliers and old paintings staring from their frames. Ironically enough, it wasn’t the old and slightly obscure ones that made you feel uncomfortable, but rather Grace’s gigantic portrait. She was overhanging the house, her piercing blue eyes seemingly glistening in the sunlight and judging your every move.  Silently asking you what the hell you were doing in her home. A shiver ran down your spine, as if you could sense her presence, heavy and utterly sad, sipping through all the walls.  Arrow House might carry a distinct scent of polished wood and smoke, but beneath it lingered something as heavy as the Grace’s portrait – sorrow. It clung to the air like a haunting memory, subtle but inescapable, much like what Tommy himself hid under his expensive after-shave.

Finally, you reached the heavy double doors of Tommy’s office, your heart a relentless thud in your tight chest. Usually, little King Shelby despised being disturbed when he was in his study but you couldn’t care less considering the emergency of the situation – and you wouldn’t have cared in a more casual one. Without the slightest hesitation, you threw the doors open and your voice, already sharp, resounded in the room like a tigress’ roar.

“Where is he?” You demanded, as your pale iris, which were burning with Hell’s fire, surveyed the room until they found Tommy behind his desk.  His ice-cold stare met yours with a calm that only pushed you further to the edge of fury, “Where is Arthur?!”

The blue-eyed demon might have many flaws, but stupidity wasn’t one. He knew you would make a mess when you woke up so he had spent the last few hours patiently waiting for the chaos to storm, a glass of whiskey for sole companion to brace your thunder. He let out a sigh and reached for that same glass, which had remained untouched on his desk until now. After a sip, he leaned back on his chair, his eyes wandering on you as if he was calculating every possible outcome of your conversation.

Then only he spoke.

“Heaven, would you calm down ay?” He said with a smooth yet firm voice that carried an irking placidity. How could he be so serene after his brother got attacked and butchered? Was it the same Tommy who, overwhelmed with emotions you recalled, tried to help you last night? Or was he some kind of evil twin, who locked up his good brother somewhere in Arrow House most of the time?

“Don’t tell me to calm down!”  You snapped, walking toward him with your first clenched and stopping in front of his desk while he was still sitting, “After everything that happened last night, I wake up here and you think you can just sit there and act like this is normal? Tell me where Arthur is now.” You spat, your words like a winter blizzard.

Tommy stubbed his cigarette in the crystal ashtray that was on his deck before he stood, sky-blue eyes narrowed as he moved around slowly around the furniture. Your whole little body tense when he approached, his sole presence irking you.

“Arthur…” He started, his voice drawling, “Had to make a quick exit. We had to make him disappear for his own safety.”  His statement was heavy with the implications of danger and truth he didn’t wish to fully reveal. Tommy and his little secrets, you thought bitterly. Your jaw clenched, your icy eyes narrowing as you tried to swallow your burning fury in favor of a cold, quiet, anger.

“Disappear? Is he alive? Where is he?”

“I’m afraid I can’t give you any more information.”

The room fell silent, the weight of his words pressing on you. Was he serious? Momentarily stunned by the audacity of the Peaky Blinders’ boss, you blinked. He couldn’t be serious.

“And I’m just supposed to accept that dumb answer? After everything I went through trying to save him?”

Tommy moistened quickly his lips with the tip of his pink tongue, his face an unreadable mask. Still, you could see through it, and you knew he was searching for his words, “It’s not about accepting or not. We suggested the idea to him, and he agreed. Arthur made his choice – he’s lying low, and right now, that’s the best place for him.”

A slap across your face would have been less painful that what he was saying. Trembling with frustration, you shoved your fist into his chest. Tommy didn’t move nor show any hint of paint. If anything, he just let you lash out at him.

 “So what—you’re just hiding him? Keeping him locked away while I’m left in the dark?”

“I’m not hiding him. Not keeping him from you. He’s the one who decided to leave.”  

“You’re lying. That’s just another of your fucked up games.” You hissed, plump lips curling and revealing your sharp canine teeth you dreamt of sinking into your brother-in-law’s throat.

Arthur had left. Without saying anything. Without a fucking warning. Without a fucking 'hi, I'm alive love". You couldn't believe it.

Tommy shook his head, cold but resolute, “I’m not playing. There are people out there looking for him. And if they know you’re alone and vulnerable, those same people will come after you, too.”

Another blow to his chest. The charming gangster closed his eyes a few seconds and exhaled loudly through his nose to swallow the pain.

“Go fuck yourself! I’m going to find him and murder those bastards myself!”

When Tommy reopened his eyes, his large and warm hand grabbed your wrist suddenly in mid-action and kept you from punching his strong chest again.

“Do you think Arthur would want you to risk your life? Do you think I’d let you go on a rampage with my niece or nephew in your belly?”

Your breath suddenly caught, the mention of your pregnancy striking a far too sensitive nerve. With your eyes wide-opened in surprise, you studied Tommy with an expression of pure shock on your seraphic face. How could he possibly know about the baby?

“You nearly lost that kid,” Tommy’s intense gaze softened as he continued, his husky voice dropping lower and his grip loosening around your frail wrist.

“How?” You whispered, your lower lip trembling.

“Polly is not the only one who can sense things eh,” Apart from being gifted with animals, Tommy had a sensibility you had never expected. He had known about the baby the same day you had talked to him about keeping Arthur busy during their meeting. It was the way you touched your belly sometimes, the way you had acted more feral than usually – which he hadn’t thought possible, “But that’s not the point. If you leave, you’ll risk everything. Arthur wants you safe, and right now safe means staying here.”

The air between you grew thick with desperation and frustration. You gritted your teeth so harshly you wouldn’t have been surprised if they would all broken, but it was the only thing that helped you biting down the urge to scream.

“So, you’re telling me I have no other choice than stay?” Your voice wasn’t loud, but its defiance and hatred cut as deep as the razor blades he kept in his cap. To be fair, the fact he talked about the baby made you falter more than you’d wish to admit. Your shoulders slumped in reluctant defeat.

“Yes,” Tommy said simply, leaving no room for argument, “You stay here, under my roof, until this fucking mess is sorted out and until it’s safe for both you and the baby. I don’t expect you to like it, but you just have to accept that situation.”  He finally released your wrist in a surprisingly soft gesture – the fire of your fury had been so bright you had completely forgotten that Tommy had been holding you during your entire exchange. And now that he had stepped back, you realized that his touch had been grounding, and you found yourself missing it.

“It will be temporary, I promise.”  He added, heading back to his office to grab his whiskey and gulp it down. The glass chimed when he put it back on the wooden surface.

Your fruity lips pressed into a tight line, your gaze falling to the floor. That burning anger that had fueled you earlier felt dulled, swallowed by exhaustion and creeping darkness settling deep in within the marrow of your bones. As much as you wanted to fight, to demand answers and storm out of the cage Arrow House was, you knew deep down that Little King Shelby was right. The stakes were too high and your strength, for once, too fragile. This was with reluctance and resignation that you looked up to meet Tommy’s eyes.

“Fine,” You muttered, “But don’t think this means I trust you.”

“It wouldn’t have crossed my mind.”  Tommy made a little tilt with his head while raising one brow, “So you’ll stay ay?”

“Hm. But I’ll get the fuck out of here whenever it will be safer. ”

A little glint of something — approval? Satisfaction? — flickered briefly in his eyes, “As long as you respect the terms of this arrangement, that’s all that matters, Devil.”

With a final, deathly glance, you turned on your heels and left the room, feeling the burn of his scorching gaze on your back. Staying with him was an awful idea, but for now you had no choice but to play along.

To abide by the rules he would set.

The fire flickered low in Arrow House’s main yet darkened living room, the dancing flames casting their undulating shadows along the wooden walls. Wrapped in Arthur’s long coat, you sat curled up in the armchair closest to the fire in a vain attempt to warm your cold soul up. A glass of whiskey was in your small hands, barely tasted. There was exquisite alcohol here, at least. To be honest, you hadn’t planned on staying up this late but killing time here was better than tossing and turning in bed, feeling near suffocating at the sensation of the bedsheet around you. A little sigh escaped your plump lips, whose skin had been picked at until you had bled at the bottom right. Sleep had been quite elusive ever since Arthur’s death – or rather, absence. A deliberate absence that gnawed at you, leaving you restless and hollow the same way you did after the tragedy that took your family from you on a cold October night.  The same way it did when you had left your former fiancé.

Another chill ran down your spine as the events that brought you to Arthur and what followed played in your head like a broken record: you felt like only a few days had passed from your unexpected encounter in the church to the awful evening during which you had held your husband bloodied and limp body. And with the memories came an even more aching revelation: all the people around you always ended up dead or hurt in the end, whether you pulled the trigger or not.

At this moment you would have given everything just to switch your brain off and let someone handle the rest. Everything to be in Amos’ reassuring arms, his tender velvet voice whispering in your ear that everything was going to be fine.

A thought that occurred for the second time, the first appearing when you danced with Luca Changretta.

The door suddenly creaked, the darkness of Arrow House’s corridor subsiding as Tommy appeared in the orange light with an unlit cigarette between his fingers. His steps were heavy and his mesmerizing turquoise eyes slightly glazed. As was always the case when you breathed the same air as this asshole, your body tense entirely, every muscle ready to pounce on him and shred him to piece. However, you only raised your head, your pale eyes falling on his face. What you saw made you frown: he was well into a drink himself, judging by the loose expression he wore and the very faint flush on his salient cheekbones.

Despite being intoxicated, the sharpness in his gaze didn’t dull when he spotted you by the fire. If anything, it intensified.

Ah! It was still the same old and hateful Thomas Shelby you knew.

“Couldn’t stay in your room, could you?” You muttered, your tone soft but laced with a mix of sarcasm and intrigue as the man approached. Tommy didn’t answer though and sunk onto the couch opposite you.

“This is my house, remember?” He retorted, husky voice almost making the air rumble around him. A few days had passed since you argued in his office. A few days during which you mainly stayed locked up in the room, stubbornly sulking.

“And believe me, I’m counting down the hours until I can leave it,” He met his gaze when you finished speaking but, as surprising as it was, Tommy didn’t find defiance in your eyes. Only fatigue. For once, the insolent brat you usually were seemed too exhausted to bite. "I’d rather not be here, but we don’t always have the choice.” You had wanted to add that the choice was scarce when Tommy Shelby was around, but you didn’t. Not only would it be pointless, but you weren’t in the mood to fight.

A bitter laugh escaped his lips, “You’re right. Just like I didn’t have a choice when Arthur took you in, dragging all the trouble that followed,” He paused, attentively studying how your seraphic traits expressed your spitefulness at his words, then pointed at you with his finger “Thought you were above it all, didn’t you?”

“Above what?”

“Above everything. Untouchable. But here we are. Both haunted.”

Your grip tightened on your glass. So strongly you almost snapped it. “Don’t you dare blame me for what happened to him, Thomas. I know you’re used to do so but don’t fucking do it this time.” You warned.

Tommy’s blue eyes darkened as he looked away, shaking his head as if he had just remembered something awfully painful. The same thing that was plaguing your dreams: Arthur and his almost severed throat, “I don’t blame you for that – not for the attack nor for trying to save him.” He admitted. Wow, Tommy not blaming you for something was unexpected!

The gangster sighed and finally brought the cigarette to his mouth, rolling the filter onto his lower lip first before lighting it. Then, he threw the lighter on the small table near him and took a long drag. You carefully observed him all the while, afraid he would jump at your throat if you ought to lose your focus for one microsecond, “But it doesn’t change what came after, does it? You’ve done nothing but bring trouble to me. To all of us.”  He added with a hoarse voice, punctuating his sentence by blowing the smoke noisily. His voice didn’t carry the slightest aggressiveness though, only exhaustion. Yes, you were both drained by this fucking life.

Your jaw clenched, his word cutting deep. “I tried to save him with everything I had, Thomas. I’ve always tried to do my best for this family. Tried my best to make it work. But you –” You sneered, “You’re so determined to hate me that you won’t see it.”

Tommy snorted, the ghost of a desperate smile floated on his lips before it disappeared as quickly as it had appeared. The look in his eyes was hard as steel, unyielding, but utterly melancholic. “Save him? Yes, it’s true, but you think that changes a thing? He was better off with you from the start.”

Things were always like this with Tommy. Even though you told yourself that you weren’t going to give in to your anger, the blue-eyed demon always knew which buttons to push to annihilate your self-control. And even if you didn’t want to play his twisted game, you always ended up getting pulled in. Your heart pounded in your tight chest, anger sparking beneath grief and the pain. Driven by a furious rage only he could fuel, you stood up from the armchair, Arthur’s black coat falling on the floor as you moved. “You don’t get to stand there and act like you know what is best for him. You only know what’s convenient for you. It’s always about you, innit?”

Following your movement, Tommy also got up from the couch to face you, cigarette hanging from his mouth and icy turquoise eyes burning fiercely. “What do you think you know about about me? Or about Arthur, for that matter?”

“About Arthur? Everything. About you? More than I needed to know.”  Your body moved instinctively, taking a step closer to him in utter defiance. “You really think you’re that unfathomable, do you? You think that no one except Thomas Shelby can understand what’s happening in this twisted and scheming mind of him, right?  No, let me correct my mistake, even you cannot understand yourself.”  Trying to calm down sheer anger and the acid you were made of, you took a quick gulp of whisky from your glass before putting it on the table.  Once the glass left your mouth, your lips curled in a mean smirk.

“I know the man you are because my former fiancé was cut from the same cloth. An egocentric criminal with bulging ambition, a far too high sense of self esteem and a greed beyond words. A man who dragged his loved ones down with him without even realizing it. But Tom, you are a poison. And even with good intentions and genuine love, everything you touch ends up rotting. Just like you.”

And just like him.

Your voice sounded like an angelic lilt as you spoke, but there was something horrifying in its softness: a belittling tenderness that was only aimed at mocking and hurting.

Tommy’s jaw clenched, dimples digging in his already sharp cheeks. Bitter, he stubbed his cigarette against the couch’s armrest and threw it right onto the carpet, not minding the damage he just did. For fuck’s sake, he had enough money to buy a new one. Even a new mansion had he wanted to.The tension that was floating in the room became thicker, intoxicating, as your cutting remarks threw sparks into the gasoline of his soul. One could even wonder if the crackling sound of the fire really came from the hearth or if they were made by the flames of your hatred. 

The gangster didn’t reply, yet his eyes were locked with yours, speaking a silent challenge none of you was willing to back down from. He might have remained mute, but his body didn’t. All of sudden, he walked closer to you, reducing the distance step by step until he stood in front of you only from a few inches, fierce and unafraid. He was so close that you could feel the warmth of his bare chest radiating off him, gently warming up your frozen skin without even touching it. The musky scent of his after shave, worn off by the shower but still strong enough for you to catch its fragrances, mixed with his whiskey breath.

“You think I’m scared of you?” You whispered only for him to hear, light tremor of defiance in your voice. “Be careful Thomas, you know I could kill you right here right now.”  You spat, the warm fire reflecting its dim light against the pearly white enamel of your sharp canine teeth and making your ivory mane shine like moonlight.

“It’s Tommy.” He corrected. The way you kept using his full name was starting to get on his nerves, especially after how delicate his nickname had sounded, melting on your tongue like sugar, the day you threw yourself in his arms, mourning John. Crying real tears and not staged ones.

“No, it’s Thomas. You said it yourself years ago.”  You cut him, the name as sharp as the shards of a broken mirror, whose cracked surface reflected Tommy on one side, and your own being on the other, like two perfectly intricated parts of the same puzzle.

A short silence hovered above the room, sharing the space with the electric air as you glared at each other, waiting for the next unpredictable move the other could make.

The blue-eyed demon didn’t bother picking up your little taunt, but rather went on with what you said just before, “Kill me…” He repeated, leaning over you. His void pupils relished every trait of your doll face, “That’s what you want ay?”  Tommy’s voice was dark and daring, but it held a flicker of something different. Something more dangerous. As he spoke, his husky and hushed tone feeding the electric tension, you both stood locked in that heated moment, your breaths mingling in the space between you. Why were you realizing how close you were, both invading each other’s private space, only now? 

This time, Tommy’s expression shifted again and before you could react, he reached for you, his strong calloused hands wrapped around your wrists with a firm yet tender grip and pulled you even closer. “Do it”, he urged in a low growl as he guided your hands around his neck. “Show me how strong you really are without that evil magic of yours...”

Your heart raced, missing a vertiginous beat, as your sly fingers curled instinctively around the hard line of his throat. There was a thrill in the danger, a rush of adrenaline coursing through your veins when you felt the steady thump of his pulse under the soft pulp of your thumb, a reminder that Tommy Shelby was indeed a mortal man. Without control of any sort, your eyes fell on his throat, which was a striking canvas of both strength and vulnerability, the sinewy muscles taut beneath his smooth, pale skin. The very, very thin layer of sweat which covered him glistened under the dim light, attracting your attention even more on the angular lines of his jaw. Your breath stopped for a few seconds when you noticed how the coolness of his complexions contrasted sharply with the heat that was radiating off him.  Tommy Shelby was a walking paradox, as cold as ice, as hot as fire. Just like you.

With a surge of anger, you tightened your hold and let your nails dig into his skin. “You think this is a game?”

“Life ain’t nothing but a cruel game, Devil” he replied with a hitching breath and a light smirk dancing on his seductive lips as he leaned more into your grip. The gangster exuded something primal you couldn’t really describe. “You can’t tell me you don’t feel it too—the tension, the way we keep pushing each other.”

Your faces were now inches apart, heat pooling in your body and overwhelming you.

 “You’re insane,” you hissed, a tremor of uncertainty creeping into your voice despite your bravado. You had tried to hide it but it was vain and you knew it didn’t go unnoticed.

“And yet here we are,” he murmured, his growling voice turning into a whisper that sent shivers down your spine. A raspy lilt that made all fibers of your being vibrate like a piano’s strings during a symphony of chaos and desire. Caught off guards by the intensity of his gaze, your grip faltered just a moment before your thumb pressed a bit more on his windpipe. The noise his breath made as well as the way he sharply sucked in for air left no doubt on the power of your grip – you were slowly but surely squeezing the air out of him and, this time, you didn’t need any kind of magic to do so. It made the whole act even more exciting. Suffocatingly intense. 

At this point, you were convinced that the black-haired gangster, with his intoxicating smell of whiskey, cigarettes, leather and expensive after shave, would back up but he did quite the opposite. Leaning forwards, his lips brushed against your ear with a tenderness you didn’t suspect he possessed. Another shiver ran through you, and you hated him even more for enabling this reaction. “Harder…” He breathed, voice already muffled, “ Y—You want this as much as I—I do.”

In that moment, the storm of your usually muffled emotions collided. Rage, desire, fear, hatred, loneliness, doubts, lust, all intertwined with the numbing effect of alcohol, blurred the line between Tommy and you even further.

“Harder, like your former fiancé loved, right?”

“Fuck you.”

“Fuck me your – yourself ay.”

Lost in the intensity of everything, you felt the control slipping from your fingertip along with the will of fighting him. Tommy Shelby was sliding under your skin and the undeniable urge to give in was too much for you to resist. And somehow, you didn’t want to. What he made you feel was too similar to what you had lost after slashing Amos’ face and running away the day of your wedding.

This was why your grip suddenly tightened around him, your slow choking turning into the verge of deadly strangulation. In reply, Tommy let out a muffled moan. His strong hands, scarred by murder, grabbed your frail hips. So frail he felt like he could crush them easily and break you in half.

Your eyes maybe whole, But the story I'm told is your heart is as black as night.

As the room started to dangerously spin around him, the lack of oxygen building up gradually, the necessity of words faded away. Giving in, you leaned too and gently rubbed your cheek against your brother-in-law’s while still strangling him. Your lashes fluttered at the silky sensation of his perfectly shaved skin, your nerves sparkling with sensations at the lines of his sharp facial bones. His fire skin against the frost that constituted yours was ecstatic. Another little husky yet muffled moan echoed in the living room, his touch feeling as good as a shot of heroin and as brutal as getting crushed by a train. 

“Hev—” Tommy’s muscular body suddenly dropped to its knees, unable to hold his weight anymore.  At first you thought he would finally give up and admit he couldn’t take it anymore but the black-haired gangster didn’t. His rough hands didn’t leave your waist but rather pulled you closer, as if he couldn’t bear a single inch standing between you. The two turquoise gems that he called eyes locked onto yours — unfaltering and desperate. Tommy exhaled a shaky breath and surrendered himself fully to your touch. You wanted to kill him? So be it, he thought.

You swallowed the lump in your throat, fascinated for he looked so weak, so… willingly at your mercy that everything around you blurred, your focus only on him. Him and his freckles. Him and the too-perfect traits of his face from his adorable nose to his slightly chapped lips. Him and the sight of what you could be together.

Your lips maybe sweet such that I can't compete, But your heart is as black as night.

A far away cry resounded in the back of your head, pleading you to put a stop to this folly, but you were far too embedded in a primal trance to mind it. 

 Tommy’s head lowered until his cheek pressed against your belly, his arms snaking around your waist in an intimate, blazing embrace. And just like that it wasn’t a fight anymore; it was something else. The same thing you were both desperately pushing away for years — what fueled the vitriol of his hatred. For him and his twisted and tired mind, your deadly hands around his throat weren’t hurting him anymore, they were granting him a momentary relief from his untamable demons. The dirt couldn’t touch him here, your seraphic yet murderous aura keeping it from burying him alive. You strangled him, but he felt like he had never breathed this freely for a long, very long time. 

Soon the static hug turned into a sensual one, with Tommy softly rocking you in a way so soothing that you couldn’t help but bit your juicy lower lip. For a moment you both stayed like that, your body petrified and your hands still squeezing the air out of him while his scorching breath fanned over your belly when he moaned, sipping through the thin fabric of your silk nightgown. It was only after a while that all of Tommy’s energy fled from him. Now he hed had reached his limits. You felt the gangster waver, then he fell back onto the living room floor, dragging you along in his fall. You simply followed, letting him pull you on top to make you straddle him. A firework exploded into you when your hips collided together, your beings only separated by the thin layer of your lace thong and the fabric of his trousers. 

I don't know why it came along at such a perfect time, But if I let you hang around I'm bound to lose my mind.

Beneath you, Tommy’s body was entirely tensed, his breath hitching in difficulty, mouth gasping for air and a vein on his forehead pumping blood furiously. Yet, his hypnotic turquoise eyes didn’t waver from you except occasionally when he rolled them back in pure ecstasy. You shut your eyes closed, squeezing them very tight, unable to hold his gaze anymore when his hips started to sensually roll under you, the feeling of his hard length making you gasp.

“Tom… No.” You thought you had spoken with a stern tone but your voice had been nothing but a whisper that melted in a moan and, consequently, he didn’t stop. Quite the opposite, he kept rubbing against you, your hips dancing together in perfect rhythm and intensifying when he felt the warmth pooling between your legs and the small, damp spot on your sinful undergarment. It was too much for him to bear — Tommy growled, a low and primal noise that came from the depths of his soul, and his hips bucked under you. In a final scream of intense pleasure he came, stars waltzing behind the blackness of his eyelid and the mighty hands of God ripping all his suicidal thought from him just enough time to finally be at peace.

Peace, at last. He thought.

Shocked, confused and caught in the haze of the moment, you finally released your grip and freed his throat before curling up in a ball in his arms, trembling. 

“I’m fine.” He stuttered, panting, as if he had read through your concerns.

As you lay entwined on the floor, both of you breathless and tangled in each other’s arms as if your life depended on it, the silence of the room grew thick with unspoken desire and barely bridled resentment.

Would life be easier if you’d give in for good? Would he be the one, strong and steady, guiding you and protecting you? Could he be the one able to finally heal that open wound your attachment to Amos was?

No.

Tommy could never be your solace.

You would never let him.

You’d never do this to Arthur. Never.

Your hand tenderly reached his face. They lingered on his perfectly carved jaw to trace faint lines across his skin as though you were discovering him for the very first time. Had he always been so pretty? The soft caress of your fingers almost made him purr, but he was still panting too much to say something more judging by how his chest rapidly fell with each shallow breath. Only after a few minutes Tommy looked up at you, the eyes that once stared at you with disgust and burning rage now softened – though the remnant of something dark and fierce burnt inside his black pupils. 

He finally broke the silence with a voice both rough and tender, “You feel it ay? The weight of it. The weight of us.” It wasn’t a question for he knew he was right, no matter how hard you would deny it. He pulled you closer to make your embrace even more intimate until your nose nuzzled in the crook of his neck — his perfume soothing you, lulling you.

'Cause your hands maybe strong but the feelings are all wrong, Your heart is as black as night.

“Tommy. This has to stop.” You said slowly, fingers still caressing his face with sheer tenderness, “You have to let it go.”  Fighting against the torpor the sweet comfort of his arms brought you, you raised your head to plunge your gaze into his.  In response, Tommy let out a sigh and one of his hands found yours, intertwining your fingers together.

“You think he loves you the way I could?” His other hand moved to your face to tilt your chin towards him, keeping you from fleeing his vulture eyes which were filled with longing he didn’t bother to hide anymore, “I’m not letting you go.” 

Your heart pounded painfully in your chest at the thought that Tommy would never stop haunting you. 

He was talking exactly like Amos. Using the exact same words and sickly-sweet tone.

“Don’t say dumb shit like this.” You retorted, the warmth you had granted him with turning to freezing arctic ice again. With that being said, you gathered all your remaining strength to overcame the comforting haze he instilled in you, and managed to snatch yourself from his arms. You needed to leave this fucking room now. Surprised, Tommy tried to hold you, to keep you from leaving him but you had been too quick. Defeated, the gangster hauled himself with his forearms against the carpet and frowned.

“You know we’re meant to be.”

“And what are we meant to be Thomas?” You sneered, glaring at him from above your bony shoulder, “Can you tell me?!”

Your heart is as black… As mine.

“Each other’s death.”

Taglist: @adaydreamaway08 @theshelbyclan @esposadomd @woofgocows @anathemasworld @anastasia0082 @kate654 @kxnnxy @babayaga67 @meowtastic @shelbyssins @sarai-ibn-la-ahad @bluevenus19 @kishie8 @zablife @alexandra-001 @alexizodd @helen06dreamer @kmc1989 @peakyswritings @peakyltd @chaosinkest1996@vanhelsingsbigtoe @cherubswhispers @lokigirlszendaya @justrainandcoffee @mischievouslittlecreature @jjovin3221 @randomcreator-09 @weepingdreammarvel @meadowshelby

[jonathancraneswife]

ᡣ𐭩 •｡ꪆৎ ˚⋅ 𝐅𝐚𝐯𝐨𝐮𝐫 / Robert Fischer

pairing - Robert Fischer x (fem!)reader

summary - When things at Fischer morrow get out of hand, robert asks for a favour from his very own secretary; you.

words - 2.4k

warnings - MDNI 18+ — oral sex (m! receiving), creampie, quickie, semi- public act, fluff, pleasure uses as relief, handjob.

notes - look who decided to post after almost a decade..imagine this is my first fic of the year wow istg i am coming back into writing, send requests

masterlist

In the fischer morrow, you were known to be the perfect secretary. you didn't just manage schedules and filtered emails

you knew the inner workings of the company better than most of its leaders.

And behind the polished professional demeanor rested a sharp intellect mastermind who calculated her every move with focused precision, you navigated the situation with effortless control leaving no chance of doubt for others to leave behind your work.

People in the company referred to you as a calculated person who was always one step ahead, many times you had received praises from the leaders at the annual ceremony of the company, you had great titles lined up in your office, overall you are the best employee of fischer morrow.

At this moment you stood in your boss’ office, casting a brief glance at your wrist-watch as you tapped your feet continuously on the ground, with every passing second you felt impatient and worried.

your boss. Robert Fischer, was a highly demanding person. rich and arrogant heir who would always throw tantrums at the smallest thing in the company but ever since his father died he has been utterly disturbed.

The man in question, your boss was fashionably late for the deal, for FischerI morrow, this was a crucial opportunity to secure their future, every second of this dealing was meticulously planned.

And if the company leader himself didn't show up, the deal would be called off entirely. you retrieve your phone from your bag and dial Robert's number, this was the twentieth call since the morning.

He didn't pick up the phone, yet again.

Minutes ticked by the absence of your boss, Robert, which became glaringly obvious. your frustration grew. The meeting agenda was tightly clutched in your hands as you glanced at the clock for the fifth time in ten minutes.

you couldn't help but grab the phone to call him once again, your fingers hovered over the keypad. the ring tone reached through your ear, each beep was mocking your anticipation.

“oh, come on” you muttered under your breath, the call went to the voicemail again, you hung up with a sharp sigh, tossing the phone onto the desk and leaning back in your chair.

Glancing at the clock one more time, the meeting would start in half an hour from now, where he could possibly be–?

The void of your thoughts was abruptly broken by the faint creak of the door. your gaze snapped toward it, Robert stepped into the cabin with an air of casual indifference.

The tension that had been building inside your chest finally eased, letting out a sigh of relief, you rose up from your chair. now striding in his direction.

“Sir, everyone is waiting for you. I hope you are aware how important this deal is for you and the Fischer morrow” you say, your tone was strictly professional.

The expressions on Robert's face were shifted slightly. his usually composed demeanor flattered as worry and uneasiness was crept on his face.

“Well aware” he muttered, his usual defiant tone was now laced with tension, his eyes darted towards the clock.

“Great, now we have to move things for the meeting quickly. We don't have enough time left” your voice was toned in annoyance and irritation.

you turn to the door, hurriedly your steps were determined to leave for the meeting

but before you could take another step, Robert’s hand wraps around your wrist in a tight hold, his desperate grip pulled you back in your place.

The warmth of his touch contrasts with the cold air in the room, confusion stirred up in your mind at his sudden actions, Robert’s firm grip on your wrist sends a jolt through your senses, leaving you trapped in chaos of your own uncertainty.

“I need to talk to you about something” Robert spoke, his demeanor was subtly shifted to vulnerability.

Yet another tantrum, you thought. bracing yourself for whatever his arrogant mind has conjured up to say this time, “I am all ears, sir”.

The moment this words left your lips, he grasped your waist closely, pulling you closely towards his body, earning a gasp from you at his sudden actions.

“Listen, t-today is an important day for me, for this company. D-dad has dreamed about this dream since the day he started off to build this morrow”. His voice drops to whisper.

“When he was on his death bed, he called me and said that I-I have to secure this deal, it is my responsibility now, and if I failed this opportunity then he'd be disappointed in me” Robert finishes of with a sigh.

Both of you were caught in a moment of exposure, as his personal assistant you knew how insecure and sensitive Robert was, only you knew under that cold facade rested a man who was deeply hesitant and self-doubting.

“..I know we will secure this deal, you have worked for this day and night, suffering from countless sleepless nights for this one project. they will be worth it” You tell him in a reassuring voice.

He shakes his head, “No- no, my gut feeling says that I am going to fucking lose this, and I cannot bare that loss-”

you cut him of abruptly, “Sir, you are just stressed and anxious about the deal, I believe you can do this, I trust you”.

Trust, a value Robert held above love, tension in his chest eased down at you assuring words, but the storm in his mind remained tugged in his thoughts.

“I-I know you trust me, but I need a favour from you, this is something only you can do” He continues in a low voice, “but this is something we have never done before…”

you furrowed your eyebrows in confusion, his twisted sentences made you perplexed

“What is it?” you questioned, “you can tell me without any hesitation”.

He sighs again, his eyes remaining on the floor as he speaks, “This is something more intimate, something more than personal” Robert intertwines his fingers with yours, his ocean blue eyes locked into yours sending a shiver down your spine.

"...This is so awkward," he muttered under his breath, his voice barely audible. Robert hesitated for a moment, his eyes avoiding yours before finally admitting, "I-I need you to pleasure me”.

your eyes widened at his unexpected request, shock and uncertainty flashed on your face, For a moment. You weren't sure if you heard him correctly, his words echoing in your mind as you tried to process their true meaning.

His gaze softened as he took in your reaction, a flicker of guilt crossing his face. He shifted uncomfortably, running a hand through his hair, clearly struggling to find the right words to ease the tension he had created.

“Please don't deny this, I need this, I need you, right now please I beg you. we can be quick” He pleaded out, his blue eyes sparked with true genuinity while his hold on your hands tightened.

you noticed the way his expressions turned more weak , Robert’s shoulder were hunched signalling lack of confidence. You paused, taking a moment to gather your thoughts before responding, “Alright.”

Robert's features instantly softened, a flicker of relief washing over his face.His eyes, which had previously been shadowed with uncertainty, now brightened with a spark of hope.

He gently took your hand, leading you toward the leather couch nestled in the corner of his office.

Robert settled himself on the leather couch, He spreads his legs widely while his arms rested on the back of the couch, his blue eyes radiating a silent invitation for you to join him.

Once he was settled, you slowly dropped to your knees positioning yourself carefully between his legs, you knelt before him.

you were positioned between his sprawled legs, your heart pounding with anticipation.

Robert's blue eyes burned into yours radiating a silent invitation and a warning for you to hurry up.

slowly, you reached out and grasped his belt buckle, with unsteady fingers, you unclasped the buckle letting it drop on the floor beside you. The zipper to his trousers took an eternity to descend down in the charged silence of his spacious office.

As you pulled down the remaining fabric, his cock sprange free. erect, thick , heavy and the sheer size which was impossible to ignore, his length throbbed before you, The musky scent of his arousal filled your nostrils. you could feel the heat emanating from his skin.

your eyes locked with Robert's as you tilted your head slightly. "Do you really want this ?" you asked, your heart beating faster in your chest.

He nodded instantly, his voice was steady but there was an underlying desperation in his tone, “I need this” His gaze bored into yours, reassuring you with every possible movements.

you swallowed hard, forcing down the lump of fear that had settled in your chest like a heavy weight.

Hesitatingly, you wrap your hand around his impressive size, feeling the pulse twitch against your palm. Robert let out a sharp groan, his fingers curling around the leather couch.

you began to stroke his cock, your hand moving in fast and rapid motion. squeezing his length gently in your hands. the pace of your movements fastened leaving Robert breathless.

Leaning forward, you flick your tongue around the top of his cock to taste him, running it along the underside of his length, The sweetness explodes in your mouth.

you felt the weight of his shaft around your tongue, the thick vein pulsing with each beat. your tongue danced around the sensitive flesh, tracing every contour of his sensitive skin, you swirled around it around the swollen crown.

“Fuck, your being such a good girl today” Robert lets out between shakey breaths, his nostrils flaring as he tries to regain his control.

In the response, you took him deeper feeling his shaft in the right channel of your throat, your head darts up and down with precision, your lips guiding around his thick shaft in a hypnotic rhythm.

Robert gripped your hairs in a fist, urging you to take him deeper in your mouth. you took him in your mouth then inch throbbing by inch, until you could feel his swollen head at the back of your throat.

your head bobs up and down on his massive cock at furious, restless speed. The crude wet squelches and sloppy slurps of your desperate sucking filled the room punctuated with Robert’s grutal and primal groans.

your throat bulges obscenely at each brutal thrust, your neck muscles clenching around his invading grith as you suck his cock with solid licks.

Robert’s grip on your hairs tightened, “right at the spot, I am fucking loving it” he grunts, his voice coming out in pleasureable moans.

your skull slams in his groin at a punishing pace, your lips were tightly sealed around his throbbing shaft. guttural, animalastic groans and grunts tear from his throat as you suck him wild and desperate abandon.

His hand fists in your hair, gathering the dishevelled locks into a ponytail, he uses his grip to bob your head up and down in brutal, reluctant speed.

The head of his shaft brutally bruises the back of your throat making you gag on his cock, you struggle to breath. your lungs sceaming for air as he grinds his hips faster over your mouth.

your eyes bulge, tears pouring down your face while the streaks of mascara paint your cheeks as his cock head was deeply buried in the back of your throat.

The room was filled with the musky scent of Robert's arousal mixed with your stuffed moans and his animalistic groans.

He slams your head down one last time, burying his cock to the hilt in your convulsing throat. His body goes rigid, muscles seizing as his climax crashes over him like a tidal wave.

“I need you to take all of me, swallow every last drop for me” He groans, his voice was raw and primal. His shaft pulses and jerks, swelling impossibly thicker as it unleashes a torrent of hot, thick cum directly in your mouth.

you feel the first scalding spurt hit your throat, His cock twitches and bucks as it pumps out what feels like an endless amount of cum, flooding your inside with his essence.

you swallow greedily, gulping down mouthful after mouthful of his potent release, Some of it backs up, oozing out around his shaft and dribbling down your chin.

The room fills with the scent of sex and orgasam, the air thick and heavy with the musky perfume of his climax. Robert grinds into you, holding you in place as the last weak spurts dribble onto your tongue.

His chest heaves, sweat pouring down his face as he gasps for breath, riding out the aftershocks of his intense orgasm. Finally, with a shudder and a groan, he releases your hair, his softening cock slipping from your abused throat with a wet plop.

After the moment, you slowly get up. feeling your cunt clenching and throbbing at the same time, soaking wet through your panties.

You straightened your pencil skirt, smoothing the fabric with trembling hands, and buttoned up your blouse, the rapid rise and fall of your chest betraying the effort to compose yourself.

While Robert, stood by the couch adjusting his tie with one hand while tugging his trousers on his torso with the other hand.

Avoiding his piercing gaze, you cleared your throat and broke the silence. "Sir, the meeting starts in less than ten minutes. We really have to hurry." your voice was steadier than you expected, but your cheeks still burned with the memory of the scene.

Robert nods, the parable tension of the deal still lingered in his eyes. his expressions were vulnerable and sympathetic, he called out your name, “Wait”

“...stay with me during the meeting” his voice was shaken, a rare crack in the armor of his professional cold demeanour.

You nod approvingly , your tone calm and professional. "As your secretary, it’s my responsibility to guide you through the deal and ensure everything goes smoothly.”

Before he could respond, you reached out, your fingers wrapping around his wrist in a firm yet comforting grip."Mr. Fischer," you said softly but with conviction, "you’re going to close this deal, I believe in you.”

The sincerity in your voice lingered in the air, grounding him in a way that words rarely did. his guarded expression softened, and he gave a slight nod, drawing confidence from your comforting words.

[texaschainsawmascara]

Keanu Reeves & Adrien Brody

[markiafc]

for one brief moment, peaky blinders was a dark and potent fairy tale.