#the way mosley says 'lizzie' for the first time

[divinekangaroo]

rewatching S6 in bits and pieces for current fic and ahhhhhhhhhh but the whole Jack, Diana, Mosley and Lizzie final dinner is so *viscerally* fucking satisfying on every sensory and intellectual and emotional level of consumption.

[mischievouslittlecreature]

Part 26: Do You Love Me

Summary: Tommy decides what to do about Mosley, and Lizzie comes home.

Word Count: 6,249

Warnings: Insecurity, a very unhappy marriage, and references to polyamory.

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Chapter 5: The Thread is Ripping

“Which one is Mosley?”

Lucy and Ada were sitting in the observation booth, overlooking the MP’s benches. Craning her head to peer down at the men, Lucy gestured with her cigarette towards where Mosley sat, his head cocked as he listened to Tommy speak. 

“That one.”

Ada leaned forward, arms resting on the banister, eyes fixing on Mosley with a keen level of scrutiny in them that reminded Lucy and awful lot of how Tommy looked at someone when he was first sizing them up. 

Bringing her cigarette back to her lips, Lucy turned her attention back to Tommy, allowing herself a moment to just enjoy watching him speak. 

“I’m really not sure about going ahead with this meeting, Lucy,” Ada told her as they went to meet Tommy out in the hall after the speakers were done.  

“I know. But Tommy wants to hear what he has to say.”

“As if a man like that could have anything good to say.”

“All the more reason to hear it, then.”

“You can’t possibly be alright with Tommy considering working with him.”

“It’s just drinks, Ada. And he’s not considering anything with Mosley yet.”

Ada’s voice lowered, eyes shifting around to make sure no one was listening. “So what is he doing, then? Because I know my brother, and as bloody infuriating as he can be sometimes, I don’t believe that he actually agrees with any of Mosley’s more recent policies.”

A group of men dressed in fine, pressed suits walked past them. Lucy eyes them warily, waiting until they had passed before speaking. 

“Burying our heads in the sand when it comes to Mosley and the growing movement behind him isn’t going to help anyone. Better to get to know if he and this new party he’s supposedly forming are an actual threat or not.”

“So you can deal with it now?”

Lucy wetted her lips. “Better to kill it while it’s young than when it’s grown formidable and strong.”

She could feel Ada still watching her while she broke their gaze to look around for Tommy.

“Why did he even ask me here?”

Lucy looked back at her, weighed in her mind if it was worth telling her or not, and decided that it was. “Because Mosley scares him.”

Shocked silence met her at that. There was a shift in Ada, as she finally started to understand what they were dealing with. “Does he scare you?”

“Yes.” She finally heard Tommy’s telltale heavy footfalls coming up behind them, turning to find him approaching hastily. 

“Sorry, got cornered by a few people. Had to make small talk. Shall we?” He gestured down the hall. 

“Tommy, you made me your political advisor,” Ada said as they walked. “And as your political advisor, it is my official advice that you don’t meet with Mr. Mosley.”

“Yes, I know.”

They made their way into a dimly lit, crowded lounge, embellished by leather seats and chairs, each circular table adorned with a small red-shaded lamp. MPs and other political figures were gathered at tables or milling about, the lounge with its bar a common place for them to gather to discuss business or other dealings. 

Mosley was already seated at a table when they arrived, a newspaper held up to his face. He lowered it at the sound of their approaching footsteps, face breaking into a beaming smile that did nothing to hide the deadness of his eyes as he stood to greet them and shake Tommy’s hand. 

“And Miss. Winters, of course, wonderful to see you again.”

She forced herself to shake his hand, skin crawling the entire time that their palms made contact. His leering gaze was respitefully pulled quickly away from her as his attention shifted towards Ada as Tommy introduced them. 

She tried to hide how she inched a little closer to Tommy before they sat down.

From an outside perspective, it may have looked like the meeting went smoothly. But as Mosley continued to speak, Lucy felt her sense of unnerving grow.

“You know, I was rather hoping we might have this meeting alone,” Mosley said, eyes never leaving Tommy’s. 

“Lucy accompanies me to most of my meetings, Mr. Mosley, and my sister is my political advisor,” Tommy explained. 

Ada spoke up, explaining that she had advised Tommy not to meet with him, and Mosley’s attention turned directly onto her. Lucy was impressed at the way Ada met his dark, empty gaze without so much as blinking. When he brought his hand down with a crash onto the table, shouting in demand that the whiskey they’d ordered only a few short minutes ago be brought out now, his gaze remained fixed pointedly on Ada. A clear telegraphing of his disapproval of her presence. An attempt at intimidation. At frightening her. 

If Ada was at all frightened by the display, she did a marvelous job hiding it. The corner of her lips turned up on one side, and she shot Lucy a look of mild amusement at the childish behavior from across the table. 

Can you believe that shit, Luce? her eyes seemed to say. Lucy managed a smirk back at her, reaching into her pocket for her cigarettes. Mosley’s gaze was turned back fully onto Tommy, but not for one second did Lucy think that he hadn’t taken note of the quiet exchange between her and Ada.

Good. Better for him to know that they thought him ridiculous rather than that they were scared of him. 

He dodged making any direct confirmations that facism was where he was moving towards politically. Instead, he gracefully turned the conversation towards, of all things, Ireland.

Lucy took a considerable gulp from her whiskey, eyes darting towards Tommy. His face remained schooled into an expression that gave away nothing, but she could tell that he was thinking of the same thing that she was:

That voice, on the other end of the telephone line. An Irish accent, explaining how there were men in Belfast who wanted him dead. Men who Michael had been allegedly cutting deals with.  

Landmines, in their own fucking garden. But who was the gardener? Who planted them? It couldn’t be Michael, he had still been on a ship or in Belfast when they were placed. So who was it, then? The men from Belfast, or someone else?

And what the fuck did Mosley know about it, if anything? Was it just a coincidence, that he brought up Ireland now, of all times? Or was it an indication of something else?

Enemies. Enemies in every fucking direction that they turned. Her skin prickled with that feeling of approaching, looming danger. Drawing nearer and nearer with every breath. 

She couldn’t say that she wasn’t relieved when Ada promptly stood, announcing that she was ready to leave. 

Mosley ignored her. “We’re looking for someone to begin a dialogue with certain elements in Belfast with whom we don’t officially have any dealings.” 

Lucy raised an eyebrow. She couldn’t help but find it a little funny how confident Mosley was that Tommy would be in any way supportive of his ideologies. And yet here he was, inviting him into his organization without seemingly even the slightest worry that Tommy would be opposed. 

It was often that she forgot that other people did not know Tommy like she did. 

Mosley did not seem dissuaded by Tommy’s gentle refusal of the offer. “It would involve a promotion.”

“Birmingham is my concern,” Tommy rose from his seat. Lucy mirrored him. “Ireland bores me.”

She and Ada couldn’t help but share a tiny smile at that. Tommy thanked Mosley for the whiskey, and led the way towards the exit. When she looked back while trailing behind him, it was to see Mosley watching them leave, a smirk pulling at one side of his lips. She turned her head sharply to face forward once more. 

“What the fuck was that about?” Ada asked once they were in an almost deserted hallway, a good distance away from Mosley and the lounge. 

“Ireland. It’s been Ireland’s day all fucking day long,” was all Tommy said in response, sidestepping her attempts to garner any more information on that subject. Instead, he started instructing her to go home and call her contacts from her time in Boston to ask about Michael. They drew aside, Tommy pacing back and forth, sounding off orders. Lucy watched him worriedly, sensing that something inside him was moments away from unraveling. 

“What are you talking about?” Ada asked, as he continued to ramble on about Mosley. 

“I’m talking about an empty chair, Ada,” Tommy’s voice was barely above a whisper. “My chair. My throne. People think that I’m gonna fall. They start behaving in a different way around you.”

“Who thinks that?” Ada had gone still.  

“They start to circle,” Tommy continued, as if he hadn’t even heard her. She shared an alarmed look with Lucy. “Who’s gonna take the throne, eh?”

“Tommy…” Lucy tried, reaching out a hand to him, hoping to pull him back from whatever dark precipice he was teetering on.  

“Linda, she wants some for Arthur…Aberama Gold…people in the north…Michael…” He seemed to only just then realize that words which he had not intended to speak had been pouring from his lips. His jaw hinged shut and he spun away, his back to her and Ada, clearing his throat while raising his cigarette to his lips. When he turned back to them, his expression was collected once more, the mask that had momentarily slipped once again firmly in place. He reissued his order for Ada to go home and make some calls. “I need to get back to Birmingham. Lucy.”  

“Yeah.” She made to follow him, as he was already moving with quick steps down the hall. 

“Lucy–” Ada grabbed at her arm, alarm clear in her voice. Lucy turned half back towards her, taking in the worried look in her wide eyes and reached out to squeeze her arm. 

“I’ve got him. Don’t worry.”

Ada’s lips pressed together, and while the concern still shimmered in her eyes, her shoulders relaxed a little. With a nod, she let Lucy go. 

She had to jog a little to catch up with Tommy, his steps more hurried than usual. Stupid short legs, she mentally cursed, shooting them a glower before quickening her pace. 

“Tommy…” she tried to get his attention, but he didn’t acknowledge her, and she decided not to try again until after they were out of the office and in the car, pulling out onto the street to start the trek back to Birmingham. 

“No one is taking anything,” she said finally, definitively. “I won’t let them.” When he didn’t respond, she looked over at him. Distress and paranoia was still etched onto his face, his eyes shifting around as if searching for unseen enemies. “Tommy?”   

“They’re all coming at us, Lucy.”

“Michael is a problem,” she acknowledged. “And so are the people up north. But I think Linda really just wants to get away. She’d sooner take Arthur back into the country than try to have him take your position. And you know that Arthur would never agree to usurping you. Aberama’s loyalty is guaranteed so long as we continue to support Bonnie’s boxing career.” She reached out to smooth a hand over the back of his head. “We’re alright. It’s mostly Michael and Mosley that we need to worry about now.” She watched his throat work as he swallowed, and she dropped her hand to instead rest on his forearm. “And, if any of the others do try to betray us, I’ll just kill them.”

He let out a small snort, looking over at her fondly. She was turned almost entirely with her side pressed against the leather seats of the car, body jostling slightly as they bounced along the uneven cobblestones. She cupped his cheek momentarily, a reassuring smile tugging at her lips. Some of the frantic paranoia had gone out in his eyes, and she relaxed at the knowledge that she’d managed to calm him down at least somewhat. He leaned into her touch, quickly turning his head to press a kiss to the center of her palm before returning his eyes back to the road. 

“What would I do without you, eh?” he asked. She pressed herself to his side, the physical contact doing wonders to calm both of them. And there in the safety of the shell of the car, she didn’t need to worry about anyone spotting them. Her head came to nestle against his shoulder, the material of his coat soft against her cheek. 

“Tell me what you’re thinking in regards to Mosley,” she requested. Tommy sighed, eyes remaining on the road while she rubbed a hand up and down his chest. 

“I don’t think he’s going to stop trying to get me to join his new party.”

“You’re not a fascist.” 

“Some in the family would say otherwise.” 

“Then they’d be wrong.” 

Tommy gave her a little peck on the side of the head for that. “I think he may be one of the worst people I’ve ever met.”

“Yeah,” she agreed. “And we’ve known some bad ones over the years.”

Keeping one hand on the wheel, he trailed the other through her hair. Being careful, as he always was, not to pull on any of the strands. “I have an idea. But it’s dangerous. And I’ll need to talk to Younger…”

She gave him a knowing look. “You want to do to Mosley and the fascists what you’ve been doing to Jessie and the communists.” 

“Yes.” 

“You think that you can stomach pretending to be one of them?”

“If it means stopping him.”

She nodded. Mosley was a monster creeping in the dark, waiting for an opportunity to pounce. Someone had to stop him. Might as well be them. They were probably some of the best equipped for the job, anyway.  

“You would be alright with it?” Tommy asked, and she smiled a little to herself at how he always sought out her opinion on things. 

“I’m happy with anything that wipes that smug look off his face.” Closing her eyes, she tilted her head to press a kiss to his neck. “You have my support. Always.”

“Thanks, love.” His hand dropped from stroking through her hair to wrap around her shoulders. “Have you managed to dig up anything on this Captain Swing yet?”

“Not much. Her real name is Laura McKee. She really is a commander in the IRA. That’s all our friends in Belfast have been able to find out, so far. I told them to keep digging.”

“Right.” 

They rode in silence for a stretch of time. 

“Are Lizzie and Ruby still coming home today?” she asked.

“Far as I know.”

“Maybe…she’ll be better now that she’s had some time away and gotten things out of her system.” 

“Yeah. Maybe.” He sounded about as optimistic as someone who had just been diagnosed with a terminal illness. Lucy gave him a gentle pat in sympathy. His thumb rubbed back and forth against her upper arm where it was clasped. “Thank you for helping me with everything.”

“Of course. It’s what I’m here for.”

He pressed a kiss to her hair, and together they both turned their eyes to the dark road sprawling out in front of them.  

∗ ∗ ∗

When they arrived home, Tommy took all but three steps into the house, and was promptly collided into by Ruby when she came dashing into the entryway to throw herself into his arms. 

“Daddy!”

“Hello, my girl,” he hoisted her up so that her weight rested against one of his hips. Just the feel of her in his arms was enough to have the ache of missing her lessening. “How are you, eh? Did you have a good time at Uncle Arthur’s?”

She nodded, long dark hair swinging with her movements. “I baked brownies with Auntie Linda.”

“You did?”

“Hey kiddo,” Lucy stretched up on her toes to place a kiss to Ruby’s cheek after handing her coat off to Frances.

“Hi, Lucy!” Ruby beamed at her, and Tommy felt his heart swell. There was a time, he knew, that Lucy had been afraid that Ruby would hate her, given her complicated relationship with her mother. He couldn’t have been more grateful that wasn’t the case. He was pretty sure his sweet girl was incapable of hating anyone. 

Amazing; how something containing such kindness and purity could ever have come from him.      

The click of heels on the floor was his only warning to another figure approaching before Lizzie rounded the corner. Her head was held high, dress swishing around her ankles, hair styled meticulously in dark waves around her face. She did not smile when she saw him. 

Quiet stretched on between them all. Finally, he forced himself to awkwardly clear his throat. 

“Lizzie.”

“Tommy.” She said his name as if speaking the word was like swiping a razor along the inside of her throat. 

Swallowing, he set Ruby down on the floor, bending so that he was at her level. “Ruby, why don’t you take Lucy to the kitchens and show her what Aunt Linda taught you, eh?”

“Yeah! Okay!” She tottered two steps forward to latch eagerly onto Lucy’s hand and begin pulling her along. Lucy shot him a puzzled look, eyes darting between him and Lizzie. Clearly wondering what he intended on saying in her absence. 

Don’t worry, he pushed the thought to her gently. Something clicked behind Lucy’s eyes as she realized what this was all about. She raised an eyebrow, giving him a look.

Don’t be too hard on her.

I won’t. Promise.

She looked only half convinced, but let Ruby tug her away without complaint. Tommy waited until he could no longer hear the clatter of Ruby’s shoes on the floorboards before speaking.  

“Where’s Charlie?”

“In the library, finishing up his homework.” Lizzie took a step towards him. “Tommy, listen–”

“He overheard.”

She froze. “What?”

“He overheard what you said about Lucy to Polly and Linda. And then he got mad, and repeated it to her.”

Her lips parted, eyes widening. A look of mild horror settled on her features, and the sight of it brought Tommy an odd sense of relief. That was confirmation that she hadn’t been purposefully whispering poison into his children’s ears, then.

“Oh…” Lizzie said, throat flexing as she swallowed. “What did he say?” 

“He said that she’s just my whore. That everybody hates her.” The words tasted metallic as he released them, just hearing them again making him momentarily furious with her. But he breathed in deep through his nose and forced himself to remain calm. 

Lizzie looked away, down at the floor. “Shit. I’m sorry, Tommy. He was never meant to hear that.” She shifted from foot to foot, not really meeting his eyes. “At least it wasn’t that bad…”

“Not that bad!? He made Lucy cry!” 

Lizzie said nothing to that, still staring down at her shoes. Tommy shook his head, fishing into his pocket for his cigarettes. 

Wait.

He’d just swiped one across his lips when her words clicked, his face snapping up to bore his eyes into her.

“Fucking hell, what else have you said about her for that to be considered not bad!?”

Lizzie still wouldn’t meet his gaze. “Are things between her and Charlie…?” she trailed off, pointedly not answering his question. 

Tommy studied her a moment more, lighter clicking to raise the flame to his cigarette before answering. “They’re fine. I managed to smooth things over. He was just having a tantrum; he didn’t really mean any of it. And he’s apologized.”

“Good.” The plain relief on Lizzie’s face had him considering her. For all her faults, she had always been understanding and respectful of just how much his children meant to Lucy. 

“You should never have said those things about her.” He took a long drag of his cigarette. “You need to apologize too.”

Her lips pressed together. “I’m sorry that he overheard that, Tommy, really. But…”

“But what?”

“But I’m not sorry for what I said.”  

His fingers tightened around his cigarette. “Why not?”

Her jaw clenched, chin raising. “Because it’s the truth, that’s why. Everybody despises her, Tommy. You don’t hear how they talk about her when they know you’re not listening. She’s nothing but your whore. Your mistress–”

“Don’t you dare talk about her like that–”

“I will talk about her anyway that I fucking please. I’ll do it out of the children’s earshot, but I won’t swallow my opinions just because it might hurt her feelings.”

“She hasn’t even done anything to you!”

“She’s fucking my husband!” Lizzie burst out. “She’s fucking my husband when she knows I’m not alright with it. You may have decided that she can do no wrong, but that doesn’t change the fact that she has chosen, over and over, for years, to hurt me by staying with you. I think that I ought to be allowed to be upset about that, and to say whatever I like about it when in the company of my friends and family.” 

“Lizzie–”

“I have let you two carry on as you have! I’ve let you do that, Tommy! Even though it kills me. I have…tried to be at least cordial with her. I know that I don’t always succeed, and I am sorry for that. And I am sorry that Charlie overheard. I’d never intend to turn the kids against her. But I have feelings, Tommy! I have to get them out somewhere. Better with Polly and Linda, rather than to her face.”

“Doesn’t seem to fucking work though, does it? All the hateful things that you say always get back to her eventually.”

“You know what? Fuck you, Tommy.” He saw some of the ice-cold contempt that had been blazing in her eyes when she left for Arthur’s days ago ignite once more. “I don’t want to hear it,” she started for the door to one of the sitting rooms. 

“Oi! We aren’t fucking finished here,” he moved to follow her, and she rounded on him.

“What more do you want!? I said I’ll fucking apologize! Now leave me the fuck alone! It’s the least you could do.”

“Why the hell did you come back then if you didn’t want to be around us, eh!?”

“Because your daughter kept asking for you,” she sneered furiously. “And I knew that sooner or later, you’d drag us back here anyway to have her close.” She took a step nearer to him. In her heels, she was taller than him, if only by an inch or two. “I didn’t come back because I’m no longer upset. Or because I forgive either of you. I don’t. I never will.”

“Forgive us for what, Lizzie!? For sticking to the agreement that the three of us made which you then decided to change your mind about?”

Her throat convulsed, and for just a moment, her eyes seemed to glimmer tearily. “We could have had an actual chance at being happy,” her voice suddenly dropped to a desolate whisper. “If she wasn’t here.”

He wanted to shake her. How could she not understand? He couldn’t be happy without Lucy.

“If you really believe that, then you don’t know me at all.”

Her bottom lip trembled, cracks beginning to form in the hatred molding to her face, giving way to heartbreak. 

Before he could say anything more, she whirled on her heel and stormed out the door.

∗ ∗ ∗

Lizzie found Lucy sitting alone, head propped up on one hand while she considered the chess board before her. She was playing herself, Lizzie could see. Moving both the black and white pieces around the board. Trouble was curled in her lap, asleep. 

She hadn’t really spoken to Lucy since she and Tommy had arrived home. The kids had monopolized their attention for most of the evening; Ruby in particular was eager to play with Lucy and her father after going so long without seeing them. Lizzie had been fine with leaving them to it. In all honesty, she could use the break after having to manage Ruby mostly on her own. And after their conversation about what Charlie said to Lucy, she would rather have not been in the same room as Tommy anyway. 

He’d retreated into his office to take care of some business after they’d put the kids to bed, leaving her and Lucy to their own devices. 

Taking a tentative step forward, she forced herself to open her mouth. 

“Lucy?”

The redhead looked up, and Lizzie could see the wariness that immediately entered her face upon catching sight of her. It was a look that she saw crossing Lucy’s face more and more whenever they interacted. 

Lizzie supposed she couldn’t entirely blame her for that. 

She gestured to the chess board. “Do you…want someone to play with?”

Lucy blinked, that wariness still not quite leaving her face. “Sure.” She started to move the pieces back into their starting positions on the board while Lizzie took the seat across from her, examining the little carved pieces of black and white wood. Lucy had whittled and painted each one herself, along with the board. 

Once all the pieces were set up, she took hold of one of the white pawns on her side of the board, sliding it forward. 

“I’m sorry,” she finally forced herself to say the words when they were about halfway through the game. Most of her white pieces had been swept from the board by Lucy’s black ones. Not surprising. She had never taken to chess all that well. Usually, Lucy went easy on her. 

She felt Lucy’s large brown eyes jerk upwards to stare into her face. 

“For what Charlie said. I didn’t…he wasn’t supposed to overhear that.”

Lucy looked back down at the board. She had one arm crossed over her chest, hand folded against the opposite bicep. Like she was holding an imaginary shield between them. “I figured.”

Lizzie nodded. At least Lucy’s opinion of her hadn’t sunk that low, then. “Still, I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine,” Lucy kept her eyes focused on the pieces, moving her queen to take one of Lizzie’s bishops. “It worked itself all out. I’m sorry that Tommy got on your case about it.”

“He’s just protecting you.” She hated herself for being unable to wholly mask the bitterness that underlaid her words. A guilty look crossed Lucy’s face, her head dipping slightly and her shoulders drawing in as if bracing for a slap. On her next move, she pulled one of her bishops back, leaving her rook open for Lizzie to take with one of her knights. 

She wondered if Lucy had let her take the piece on purpose. 

“How were things at Arthur’s?” Lucy asked, clearly eager to change the subject. Lizzie hesitated. There were a lot of things that Linda had told her in confidence that she was not eager to share. Everyone knew that anything that was told to Lucy would make its way back to Tommy.

“Things aren’t good between him and Linda,” she finally settled on saying. 

“What’s she upset about now?”

Lizzie worried at her bottom lip. “Everything, really. Truth be told, going there wasn’t much of an improvement from being here.” She should have gone to Polly or Ada’s instead. But she had been afraid that both of them would try to talk her out of any ruminations she had about divorce. Linda, at the very least, had understood her feelings on that front. “Only difference was that I wasn’t the one doing the arguing.”

“Mm.” Lucy made a sound of sympathy, taking one of Lizzie’s knights with her remaining rook. “I am glad that you’re home.”

“You don’t have to lie.”

Lucy cocked her head. “I’m not. Look…I didn’t miss any of the fighting, but…the house feels empty without you and Ruby in it.” 

“We may not be here for very long.”

That wariness that had mostly melted away from Lucy’s face while they played returned. “What do you mean?”

Lizzie plucked up the little white envelope that she had set down in her lap while they played. She turned it over twice in her hands, examining her own looping handwriting of Tommy’s name scrawled in black ink on the back of it. Holding it between two fingers, like she would a cigarette, she held it out to Lucy. 

“Will you give him this for me?”

Lucy eyed the envelope as if Lizzie had just held out a hand grenade to her. She supposed in a way, that she had. She took it with her pale, lightly freckled fingers, handling the envelope gingerly while she examined it. 

“What…?”

“Linda and I talked a lot. We thought that writing down everything that we need to say would be better than actually trying to say it. She’s written one to Arthur. Well…technically I think that she’s written two. She hadn’t decided which one to give to him yet when I left.”

Lucy turned the envelope over in her hands, brows furrowed. “Lizzie, what’s in this letter?”

 She picked up one of the black rooks she’d taken, rolling it between her fingers. “Just make sure that he gets it, yeah?”

She could feel Lucy’s deep brown gaze on her, could imagine the way that the irises shifted a little from side to side as they tried to decipher what was going on inside her head. “Okay.”

“Thank you.”

Lucy nodded, slipping the envelope into the inner pocket of her suit jacket. Lizzie brought her bishop sliding across the board.

“Check.”

“I can send him to you tonight, if you’d like,” Lucy offered. Lizzie could only bring herself to look at her face for a fraction of a second before she had to look back at the chess pieces again. Anything to not have to stare at that sad, guilty look emblazoned across Lucy’s face. She shook her head. 

“I doubt he’s going to want to spend the night with me after he reads what’s in that letter.” 

Truth be told, a lot of the enjoyment from sleeping with Tommy had long since faded away. Physically, it was still good–the man was nothing if not very talented at what he did–but it was hard to ever fully enjoy herself when she knew that he would rather be with her. Lizzie could feel it, the disconnect between them a living, ever present thing in the spaces between them. Even when he was with her, in the most intimate of positions two people could be in, he wasn’t really with her. He always left all the important parts of himself in the other room, with Lucy.  

If only the little red head in front of her wasn’t around…

She shook the thought away. That wasn’t what she wanted. Not really. For all her faults, at least Lucy tried. Certainly more than Tommy ever did. It was her, who more often than not kept Lizzie company on nights like this one. When Tommy was too enthralled with his work to be bothered to pay her any mind.

In a way, it only made Lizzie more angry with her. It would have been so much easier to hate her if she had been cruel and unapologetic in her actions. 

For a time, at the beginning of her marriage to Tommy, Lizzie had hated her. She had hated her so bloody much, she nearly choked on it. But over time the feeling had…not quite faded, but scabbed over. It was hard to maintain hatred like that for so long. Especially when the person it was directed towards went out of her way to be so bloody nice and accommodating so much of the time. 

Sometimes it still returned, the scab ripping off for fresh blood and agony to flow forth. And with it, the poison inside her leaked out, boiling over to spill from her lips in the form of vile curses and words. Things she may have meant in the moment, but not later. Not after she’d gotten a leash back on the jealousy that raged in her heart. 

In those moments when the venom flowed forth, the looks that Lucy would give her, like that of a kicked animal, only served to make Lizzie hate her even more. Because how dare she make her feel guilty for hurting her? When she was the one who had hurt Lizzie first by stealing her husband. 

But can you really steal what was already yours? What was given freely? How could she say that Lucy had stolen Tommy from her, when he had never even been hers to begin with?

Her fury was directed at Tommy too, often even more so. She suspected that was by design, on his part. His attempt to shield Lucy from her wrath and the hurtful jabs that came with it as much as possible. Yet another expression of his oh so precious, undying love for her.  

Once she’d gotten it all out, the anger and resentment would scab over once more. It was in those moments that she grew as close as she could to accepting the arrangement between herself, her husband, and his lover. She and Lucy could even be considered something close to being friends.

And then they’d go through the entire cycle again. 

She wondered if the scab would ever fully heal. She hoped that someday it would.

What she would give, to be at peace with her life and her choices. To be content.

But she knew that a part of her, no matter how small, would always resent Lucy.   

“Do you mind if I also read it?” Lucy asked, drawing her from her thoughts. She’d moved her knight to counter Lizzie’s check on the chessboard. 

“That’s fine.” She knew it would likely make no difference what she wanted; Tommy would tell her its contents either way.

She moved one of her pawns a space up. 

Lucy moved her knight again. “Check.”

Lizzie moved her king, even though she could already see where the game was heading.

“You’re really thinking of leaving for good?”

She kept her gaze fixed on the chessboard, not wanting to meet Lucy’s analyzing eyes. “It depends on what he says about what’s in my letter.” 

There was a long pause, and she found herself wishing that Lucy would just move her queen and put an end to the whole bloody game.

“Lizzie, maybe if you just give things some time…it’s a madhouse right now, with the crash and Michael coming back…”

“I’ve been giving things time since the fucking wedding, Lucy. And he still hasn’t–” she bit down hard on the words before she could say them. He still hasn’t changed.

Lucy stared at her sadly. “You’re still hoping that someday he’ll choose you over me?”

“Just play your bloody turn, Lucy.”

She hesitated, and then slid the black queen across the board. “Checkmate.” Her hand retracted, going to fidget with the other in her lap. Trouble roused at the cease in being pet, raising her head with a questioning meow. “Do you want to play again?”

“No,” Lizzie rose from her chair. Divorce or not, she doubted she would have to wait long to be free of them. She had watched these past few years as Tommy slipped further and further out onto a precipice, his mind almost fully lost to his own ambition. And when he finally went over the edge, he’d take Lucy right along with him. She truly believed that he wouldn’t be alive within two years’ time.  

It startled her, a little, how the thought brought with it no sorrow or grief, but simply a feeling of deep, potent relief.  

“I think I’m just going to go to bed.”

That infuriating guilt was shining in Lucy’s eyes again. She had to bite down on her tongue to keep from lashing out at the sight of it. Despite everything, she had meant what she said to Tommy about trying to be cordial with Lucy. 

 “Lizzie, you know that if you ever wanted to, the three of us could…” Lucy trailed off, biting her lip. Not needing to finish the sentence for Lizzie to know what she was referring to. 

They’d made it clear that the offer was always open, if she wanted to share a bed with both of them again, rather than just Tommy. And she understood that, in a somewhat stunted way, Lucy’s offer was an attempt at comfort; at maybe even consolidation, for the situation that they’d found themselves in.  

“Not tonight, Lucy.”

She saw a flicker of disappointment cross Lucy’s features, but she merely nodded, clearly having expected the answer, not pushing it any further. “Goodnight, then.”

“Goodnight.”

She just got to the door before Lucy called for her again. “Lizzie.” She was still sitting at the chessboard, one hand trailing her fingertips across the golden rings she was wearing on the other hand she had resting on Trouble’s patchy black and orange fur. Her red-painted bottom lip was caught between her teeth. “Is there anything that I can do?”

Yes: Leave. And never come back. “No.” 

“But maybe–”

“Lucy,” she cut her off before she could say anymore, gesturing to the board. “Even when you go easy on me, it’s you who always wins.”

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[normalbrothers]

lizzie bringing ruby to arthur's doesn't necessarily mean that arthur was present most of the time, yet she's still bringing her somewhere where domestic violence took place. i'm somewhat disinclined to believe that lizzie really knows that - she doesn't understand that linda is afraid of arthur either, for example, even as they are writing the letters together (that's why they are there in the first place) - and in general the family seems to be a little blind to arthur's more worrying behaviour.

however, in s6 arthur is fascinatlingly conflated with the imagery/idea/figure around/of the gray man/green eyed man and the man in the shadows. both through ruby's own sentiment of 'the voices from the chimney' which oddly reinvokes what ada says about 'santa claus [arthur] being up the chimney' (in the previous episode) and by his wearing the black shirt in the same episode.

that's in so far telling as arthur gets aligned with mosley (at least briefly for the audience), someone tommy is terrified of, and eventually in the way ruby draws an odd link between herself and tommy when it comes to this dubious male figure. 'he's coming for me, he's coming for daddy'.

whatever she's seen of her uncle it seems like it left a (rather negative) impression on her.

[tommygrace]

Omg everything you have written is horrible. Justifying Tommy's behavior towards Lizzie by saying he's like this because he's traumatized ? First of all at the beginning of the show Tommy was also traumatized, he was closed in on himself, and he fell in love with Grace,and he never treated her the way he treated Lizzie in the two seasons. He was kind, gentle, loving, always respecting her, even when he found out everything at the end of S1, and at the S2 reunion.

Like it or not, the show was written that way, Grace is Tommy's true love, at the beginning and at the end of the show too.

How he treated Lizzie was horrible, he cheated on her throughout the marriage, and not only with Diana in S6, also with prostitutes, as they showed us at the beginning of S6, he called her property, Lizzie had to accept that he could cheat on her but she could not on him, he told her that in his mind he still pays her .She lived frustrated in both seasons, because he felt nothing , and did not open up to her, at the end of the show she told him you never let me in,and he left her alone at her worst moment, when her daughter dies ! She had to hug a horse, because she was alone, with her pain , as her husband was busy trying to change the world, she was never a priority for him. So for you to justify saying poor thing is that he is traumatized, is more of an insult to Lizzie and her growth in the show, finally realizing this and choosing herself.

And the most horrible thing is you saying he treats her this way because he knows she will always be there ? It's the typical abusive toxic relationship, I hit you or mistreat you because you will always forgive me and you won't leave, that's definitely not love, it's toxic, and what you're doing is romanticizing a toxic and unhealthy relationship.

And Grace, I remind you that she was an undercover spy, she was in that world, she grew up in that world too, and she knows more how to handle herself in Tommy's world than Lizzie does. And she also knows how to handle herself in the other world, the world of politicians and high class people, that's why she was perfect for Tommy.

They would have been a power couple and would have been a match for Mosley and Diana. But Tommy didn't deserve that, he didn't deserve to be with someone like him who made him happy and gave her peace, that's why they killed her. They would have lasted, because unlike Lizzie, Tommy and Grace really loved each other, and even if they had everything against they were always going to choose each other, they were different but at the same time they were the same.

In S6, we were shown that Tommy and Lizzie , they didn't belong together, they wanted different things and wanted the other to be different.Neither could give the other what they needed or wanted , eventually they both realized this and should never have married.

And that it was Ruby , was because for Tommy, Charlie is Grace, and if they had killed him, it would have been devastating for Tommy, since he would have been the only thing left of Grace, and Steven Knight knew he couldn't do it without completely destroying Tommy, that's why he chose another child for the end of the show,so that what happened would happen.

Ok for those who says he loves Grace. Yeah he does love Grace and in one sense it was a kind gesture that she was killed  off .I mean what do you expexct Peaky Blinders was doing illegal business, do you expect her to make an honest man out of him?  then the series would have ended waaaay much earlier into a boring nothingness. Tommy had enemies he could not simply get out of and sooner or later the nature of him not being around at home for business, or knowing her husband has killed someone would have burn Grace out.And instead of Lizzie who later ask for divorce it would have been Grace should they have decided to keep her alive .Grace would have crack under pressure at the end. So it was gracious for the writers to write her off so that her bazillions of fans cherish her temporary  rom com with Tommy.5 seconds of blissgood but it ended. DONE.why the heck are people angry with Lizzie, her character is created to bare the brute of the Peaky Fuckin  Blinders world had Grace was alive.Lizzie was already in that world, her clients were gangsters, politician, she knows how to survive and YET still be kind.And for those whinners saying no she's not , may I remind youGrace son is calling her mom even though HE knows she is not.Do I  think Tommy love Lizzie more than Grace ? No I don't , but do I think he loves her , yes I do and its not from this scene alone .and then it has been burning up slowly from season 5.Then why is he sleeping with Diana, the bitch is a manipulator along with Mosley and the other guy,Tommy , in some  way his family ( yes that include Lizzie too)  is his weakness, he  either difuse them by showing them he doesn't care  and showing them he is taking Lizzie out  off the equation in one way to protect he as well.Why was he being cruel to her ? The man  has PTSD from France, he lost his love, he lost John, he lost Aunt Polly , he lost Ruby  his PTSD is getting worse I don't  see anyone being lovey dovey through this even if Grace was alive she could not  help him.but somehow Lizzie seems like a drug to him because Lizzie is from that world,he knows that he can be harsh with her and she will not wilther, no matter his mood she will be there , she can read him ( those kind of vulnerability scares him hence why in season 6 he hurt her more to protect himself and to push her away from his enemy)and she knows what he feel,his anger,his frustration, his fear but what frustrate her is he is not opening up to her ( can you blame the women). This sort of person you don't throw away. He is building up a wall so thick , whatever affection he showed  Lizzie in Season 5 is fragile and Lizzie knows that , he is not going to open up to her in this state.So bear this in mind Grace fans it was RUBY , Tommy's and Lizzie's child that saved him from suicide not Charlie , Tommy and Grace's child , so this symbolically also reflected that theres something bright in the toxic relationship  of Tommy and Lizzie.So Grace is DEAD  enough already. Was it the greatest love in the series? perhaps for a short while  it last. BUT it would not have survive in the world of Peaky fuckin Blinders.All I hope in the movie, ALL the remaining Shelby ( yes Lizzie too even thgh she is divorce) are alive.Whether happy ending or not, love or not ...get back together or not...there will be closure and peace for all of them and yes even Lizzie..

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[skania]

Thoughts on Tommy & Lizzie in S6 (Part 1)

Following this post on S5, a kind anon asked for my thoughts on Tommy & Lizzie in S6, so here it goes!

I ended up having way more to say than I thought, so instead of going through every TommyLizzie scene individually, I’ll try to group them into a few different categories.

This post will contain tons of images, and spoilers for the entirety of Season 5 and Season 6!

To begin, I’d say that while I found S5 very rewarding Tommy/Lizzie wise, if I had to sum S6 in one word, I’d probably pick “bittersweet”.

You see, the thing about Season 5 is that I deeply enjoyed seeing Tommy’s feelings for Lizzie creep-up on him. Tommy didn’t willingly embrace his feelings for Lizzie, he fought and denied them until he ran out of excuses. In that regard, it was incredibly satisfying to watch Tommy’s actions and reactions give him away throughout S5, unintentionally betraying the callousness that he tried to portray every time Lizzie got under his skin; every time he felt for her more than he was comfortable with.

When, by the end of Season 5, Lizzie has carved her rightful place by Tommy’s side and Tommy is swearing war on Mosley because he dared to speak badly to Lizzie, it’s rewarding. It feels earned.

And I think that’s the biggest difference between Season 5 and Season 6 to me, TommyLizzie-wise. Where Season 5 builds them up and delivers sweet pay-off, Season 6 practically exists only to bring them down.

And it’s bittersweet.

Take the first scene they share together, for example. The way Lizzie reacts to Tommy’s  attempt immediately reminded me of the way Tommy reacted to Arthur’s all the way back when. 

Lizzie is kinder than Tommy, sweeter, more open; but she’s tough as nails. More than that, she is a good learner. And you can see all the ways Lizzie has learnt little tricks from Tommy, specially those that help her guard her own heart. Like the way she tried to mask her hurt by talking business back in Season 5.

But these similarities stablish something that goes much deeper. 

Their phone-call in Season 1 is shot beautifully. While speaking to each other, they move as if they’re the same person. Tommy reaches of a cigarette, Lizzie lights it; both smoke it.

The way the scene is built is slow and deliberate and meant to show their synchronicity. It doesn’t matter that they’re in different places, they’re connected because their heart is in the same place. They want a future together with their kids. They’re practically an extension of each other, now.

Which comes with its downfalls, too, because whatever brings Tommy down will unavoidably bring Lizzie down as well.

It’s also ironic, because I feel like that single phone-call was their one moment of bliss throughout the entire season. Nothing is ever perfect with Tommy, so there’s a prostitute on Tommy’s bed; but much like Lizzie accepted this side of Tommy and struck a deal with him, us as the audience are prompted to ignore the blurry lady on the bed and focus on what actually matters, Tommy and Lizzie. Their family.

In any case, I feel like that call was their one genuine moment of bliss because after this, there are a multitude of shadows hanging over them.

Which takes me to...

The way they know each other

Tommy looks so happy to see his family. This is probably the happiest we see him since S1, as far as I remember. But it’s short lived because even when Lizzie and Tommy share a hug, Tommy is full of tension. He is bracing himself.

Lizzie isn’t the only one who has learnt to know Tommy like the back of her hand, Tommy knows Lizzie, too. And he knows that she isn’t going to be pleased with his one-sided decision to take Ruby to see a doctor before spending any sort of meaningful time with the kids.

But Tommy being Tommy, instead of discussing this with Lizzie beforehand, he just makes the decision and hopes she will play along. This is one of his recurrent mistakes, and it’s also ultimately his downfall with Lizzie, though I’ll get to this later.

We can see something similar in the scene they share at the hospital. It’s rather sad, because Tommy cares very little for himself but Lizzie cares so much about him. And Tommy quite literally doesn’t know how to deal with it.

That’s part of what’s irking her. Not only that he’s making a mountain out of a molehill, but that he’s driving himself nuts over it. That as usual, Tommy is finding ways to wreck himself. That instead of thinking of going on a holiday with his family and making memories with them, Tommy is turning Ruby’s cold into another battle to be fought.

This time, when Lizzie shares her exasperation and her concerns, Tommy reassures her. He reaches out, caresses her face, tells her that they’ll spend time together. Lizzie had asked him do you feel anything? and this was Tommy’s way to tell her that he does. His way of telling her that he feels for her, specifically.

But Lizzie’s tired, and turns the tables on him, reminding him of the way he has been making her feel.

Much like during the hug, Tommy immediately closes off after this. His attempt at placating Lizzie, at communicating with her, completely failed. Tommy’s frustrated and exasperated and he doesn’t try again. He knows he is at fault, but he’s keeping his eyes on this “last mission” they have to do. He figures he’ll have the time to make amends with Lizzie later.

He hasn’t yet realized that he is running out of time, in more ways than one.

The scene where he comes back home after “avenging” Ruby only to find Lizzie waiting for him is fantastic. The moment he enters the room, Lizzie tells him she knows where he’s been. Tommy sits down, wordlessly, because she is right. He hasn’t told her a thing, yet Lizzie still knows.

It’s S5′s bedroom scene all over again. Tommy would like nothing more than for Lizzie to not read him so well. For Lizzie to not see every deed he has done spelled all over his face. 

But the great thing here is that, it goes both ways. Lizzie has not said anything yet, but Tommy knows she doesn’t like what he did. Much like he knew Lizzie wouldn’t like him taking Ruby to that doctor in Episode 1.

So Tommy tries to change the subject, talks about Churchill, about wanting to help find a cure for Consumption. But Lizzie won’t have it. The saddest part is that despite her disappointment and her grief, Lizzie still worries for him.

When Tommy finally loses that cool façade of his, we get another parallel to Season 5. He admits to killing a woman and three man and says their bodies “will be thrown” aboard “a boat”, and that he’s stepping off that boat and into a different one.

The boat of his guilt, the boat of his crimes, of his misdeeds. We know this because this is what the boat represented in Season 5.

But Lizzie asks the right question.

She is concerned that he will cross a line that he won’t be able to come back from. And as per usual, Lizzie is ultimately right.

But before Tommy crosses that line, we get this scene.

They’re both hurt, both reeling from Ruby’s loss and coping in different ways. Lizzie exteriorizes her pain, Tommy buries it by overworking himself. But in this scene, they connect again. Lizzie realizes that Tommy’s kept the type-writer he gave her all these years, the one that irrevocably made Lizzie a part of the Peaky Blinders family.

She also sees the burnt chair and his mourning for Ruby. When she reaches out to touch him, hesitantly but also firmly, her touch means a lot of things at once.

And the poignant thing here is that Tommy understands it all without Lizzie needing to say a word.

He also adresses what Lizzie told him earlier, once again showing that Lizzie’s words always linger. They always reach him, even when he would rather them not to.

This scene is also important because it stablishes something else. It shows us that while they may have lost Ruby, both of them want to get through this together. 

When Tommy still had a choice, he chose to stay with Lizzie just like Lizzie chose to stay with him.

Which, of course, only makes everything that comes next more tragic. 

The Parallels

It’s such a great call-back, because it shows that was what true then is still true now. But it also contextualizes that first moment. The way Tommy trusted Lizzie with the combination to the safe in Season 3 was special. It did mean something. 

Then, there’s this.

Tommy only stops when Lizzie asks him to. Once again, Lizzie is able to clear his head from that “which needs clearing out”. The way he has enough presence of mind to apologize to her was also very meaningful.

He does the same thing in Episode 1, too - apologize to her after his outburst. And later in the finale, he asks Charlie to apologize to her in his stead.

It’s interesting, because hurting Lizzie is the last thing Tommy wants this season. But there’s a certain air of despondency to him, almost like he expects that whether he wants to or not, he is going to end up hurting her either way.

And sadly, he isn’t wrong. This parallel in particular is the perfect example of it. Despite his good intentions, Tommy sadly keeps failing her when she needs him the most.

Lizzie even brings this up when she finally leaves. 

It’s tragic.

The Curse

The way I cheered when Tommy said this aloud. That scene of Tommy hallucinating Grace in his office was one of my favorites in Season 5, because it’s the scene that spelled out Tommy’s love for Lizzie. It spelled out that he fears that he will bring her harm and just how much that weights on him. That it terrifies him to the point he has an episode.

And here, we finally get Tommy admitting this aloud. Not only that he feels that he is a curse, but that putting Lizzie through all of this is his biggest regret. 

Let that sink in. Tommy’s life is nothing but a run-on sentence of bad choices. He genuinely hardly made a good choice throughout the series, and even when he did, his choices always had a way of bringing people harm.

Yet, out of all of his regrets, hurting Lizzie is his biggest one. In all honesty, this is a bigger love declaration than him actually telling her he loves her lol

I also love how it’s ultimately Lizzie that helps define what Tommy’s curse actually entails.

He may not have any limitations, but there is a limit to how much the people around him will tolerate from him. And ultimately, it’s this that makes him lose Lizzie.

His Sickness

Tommy finding out that he is sick automatically takes away all of his hopes for the future, and pretty much every scene he shares with Lizzie after the revelation references this.

My favorite part though is the way Lizzie enters the scene right after Tommy asks the doctor how long he has before he “needs people around” who “love him very much”. 

It establishes that this particular phrase refers to her. She is the one who will suffer the most through Tommy’s condition, because she’s the one that has been picking him up for some time, now.

So, when Tommy says this to Arthur, he is absolutely talking about Lizzie. The way Tommy even changes the wording to “who may or may not love me” is really poignant, because Lizzie has left him by then.

And Tommy dreads that. He doesn’t want that for her, whether Lizzie loves him or not, because the doctor told him it won’t be pretty. Just like he tells Arthur, Tommy feels it would be cruel to Lizzie and to himself.

So of course, when Lizzie leaves him, Tommy doesn’t fight it. It isn’t only that he feels that he only brings her harm, but that he knows there is no future that he can offer her.

Tommy knows that if he were to tell Lizzie about his sickness, Lizzie would stay. She is kind that way, she loves him that much.

So, his way of honoring her - of loving her - is to let her go.

Charlie

He does the same thing with Charlie.

Despite how it pains him to part ways with his son, Tommy respects his choice and lets him go with Lizzie because he knows it’s what would be best for him.

He also knows it’s what would be best for Lizzie, because by now, Charlie is as hers as he is his.

In this season, we see Tommy ask Charlie to be there for Lizzie twice, and both times it’s when Tommy can’t be there for her himself. He wants Charlie to be what he couldn’t be, the best version of himself.

Okay, I think this post got way too image-heavy so I’ll split it in two to be safe. Specially because there’s a lot to say about the Diana and Mosley situation, not to mention Tommy/Lizzie’s last scenes lol

If anyone read this far, thank you for your time!

[chanandlersstuff]

She is my property.

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x Reader.

Summary: Mosley gets out of line and the beast in Tommy comes to light.

Word count: 2.093

Author’s note: This was request from @marartgogh. I hope you like it honey. The last part was inspired in the conversation that Tommy had with Lizzie in one of the season but I dont know what season.

Tommy wasn't looking for hiring someone to tell him what to do with his money, with his brains it was enough, but Polly convinced him. After all, they were getting a lot of it and the illegal business we're almost done so she advised him, more like force him, to hire a financial advisor. Person after person no-one convinces him, he doesn't trust them with his money until that sweet and young girl knocks his office door.

The way she was talking to them, showing them all the ways that they could invest the money, documents proving her point. She was the most professional person that stepped in his office looking for the job that day. Without blinking, Polly gives her the job despite Tommy's hard stare saying otherwise

She arrived at the office nearly at the same time as him so he always made sure to leave the coffee making for her, because he learned that she loves coffee with two sugars in the morning. The way she played with the rings in her hands when she was concentrating and all those little things he knew about her scared the shit out of him because that meant only one thing and he wasn't ready to admit it, yet.

After one month Tommy had to eat his unspoken words, she was damn good at her job. He followed her advice and invested the money in what she said and the profits were huge. He had to admit that she was smart like him, but sweet, king and the dynamic that those two had was like no other. At first they spent a lot of time in his office debating where to get the money, the way she spoke so sweetly but professionally and held his gaze made him say yes to whatever she said.

For the first time in a long time Thomas Shelby was having a real conversation with someone out of his family. He answered her questions, professional and personal, the same way she did.

One day she entered his office after knocking one single time, like only she does, and the words left his mouth without his brains processing them,“Did you do something different with your hair?” and she stopped in her tracks, bowed her head a little and frowned. In that moment he had to contening himself from standing up and going to kiss her.

“Yes. I don't like it when it's too long.” He smiled like a little boy and almost told her that she looked beautiful as ever, but the great Thomas Shelby wasn't gonna do that.

Three weeks later Tommy knew in the exact moment that he entered the company that something was different but he couldn't pinpoint it right away. It wasn't different wrong, it wasn't different good either, it was just different. The hours still passed and he couldn't figure it out so he just gave up, an odd thing in Thomas Shelby. It was late at night and she entered his office with a binder in her hands and her eyes glued there. She was talking about numbers and that someone messed up them and he was just admiring her. In that moment when he inhaled deeply he knew what was different. “Is that a new perfume?”

"Yes, Thomas. Now, as I was saying” and she keeps talking about the goddamn paperwork.

But one time the sneaky bastard came unannounced and “bump” into her, but to be more specific entered her office without knocking. “You’ve come to my attention.” Those were the first words that came out of Mosley's mouth. “Why is a lovely lady like you working for a man like Thomas Shelby? “

After God knows how many long years, after Gretta, after the war, after everything Tommy was in love with her.

But there was a little problem, Oswald Mosley. The moment he sets foot in the compañy he doesn't take his eyes off her. Always undressing her with his gaza and to Tommy she seems not disgusted by it. All the time Mosley asked him about who was she and it take all the strength in his body to not kill him, not yet. He made sure that all the times Mosley was in his office she wasn't even near them.

“I’m his financial advisor. And I’m mostly sure that what you just did it's a lack of respect and not at all chivalrous on your part.” Her words were like a slap in the face for him so he walked slowly and stepped dangerously close to her. At that moment Tommy opened the door, almost slammed it.

“And why is that Mr. Shelby?” Mosley took one step back from her.

When his assistant told him that Mosley came to visit him and when he was told to come in another moment he simply decided to pay her a little visit, Tommy saw red.

“Mr. Mosley, I'm gonna ask you to go.” His piercing blue eyes on her.

Maybe it was seconds, minutes or even hours, none of them knew but they were standing at opposite ends of the office looking at each other. She seems to break from her thinking and gestures to him to sit in front of her but he simply ignores her.

“Because she is my property.” The look she gave him wasn't a loving and sweet one, oh boy no, it was as if he just unleashed hell. “This is my property” he tried to correct himself but it was too late, he could see that she was already pissed off. “And I don't appreciate that you came in here and bothered MY employee, my employees so I’m gonna say it just one more time. Mr. Mosley, I'm gonna ask you to go.”

Mosley said something but Tommy was too concentrated on her, the way she was looking at him, her eyes were cold and it was impossible to read her face.

“Sit the fuck down Shelby.” In all the time knowing her it was the first time ever he listened her cursing and he was so fucking turned on with her cold voice and harsh words, so he was happy to comply. “What was that, Thomas?”

“What are you talking about?” Play dumb Tommy, play dumb his brain was telling him.

“For God sakes Thomas, dont even try to act dumb with me. Both know that that will be a waste of time.” She knows him so well that scares him. “Why do you act like I was a piece of land that you can claim, eh? Why do you treat me that way?”

“Because I don't like the way he was looking at you, the way he always seems to undress you with his eyes every time he sees you and you seem so unimpressed by him. I almost look like you...”- He couldn't finish the sentence because she interrupted him.

“I suggest that for your own good do not finish this sentence, Thomas.” Her eyes were daring him to do it, he could see it. A part of him want to know what would happen if he do it and other part scream to him to shut the fuck up.“I don't like the way he looks at me, I assure you no sane woman would like that a man like him sees her that way, BUT I need it because it would help the cause so much.”

What was she talking about? What cause? Who the hell was she? All those questions were playing in his brain. And she could see the wheels turning up there, the way he frowned a little and his eyes scanned her. She just exhales hard and closes her eyes for a minute.

“What are you talking about?”

“It doesn't make sense why you work for me though.” Ok maybe she wasn't spying on him but she was using him and Tommy doesn't like that. After all the times he used people for his own benefit now he was tasting his own medicine.

“I'm a French spy Thomas.”

Fan-fucking-tastic he was falling in love with a spy. The hurtful look in his eyes broke her heart. She made a step closer to him but he took two steps back. She was there to spy on him, to make his empire burn to the ashes, to destroy everything he fought for, it was all a lie.

“Don't look at me that way Tommy.” The way his name sounds in her lips must be considered a crime. “I know what you are thinking and it's not like that. I'm a spy, yes, but I'm not spying on you or your family. My job is to collect all the information possible on Mosley and overthrow him.”

“What do you mean you don't know? What kind of spy are you? A new one?” The bittersweet words didn't come unnoticed to her. She wanted to slap him for that but it was clear as day, atleast to her, that he was overwhelmed with all the new information.

“It came to our ears that you want him dead too, so they want to form an alliance with you to take him down or something like that, I don't know.”

At this point she was holding his gaze but he could see that she was nervous.

“I'm gonna act like you didn't just underestimate me. I don't know what they are planning because I'm compromised.” He looks at her like a little boy that doesn't understand a single thing in science class.“They don't tell me things anymore because I was stupied enough to catch feelings for you. So they decide to keep me in the dark for the benefit of the plan.”

Tommy feared that his brain was playing games with him, again. Did she or did she not tell him that she had feelings for him? He wasn't sure so he studied her. The look in her eyes that sometimes falls to his lips and the way she bite her check from the inside so maybe his brain wasn't wrong after all.

So he walks closer to her, as if it were a prey. Slow but hard steps echoing the office. They could have heard each other’s beating, the way their hearts could almost pop out of their chest, but the way they looked at each other was the only thing they could focus on. He was standing in front of her, their chests touching. To hell with personal space. His right hand went directly to the back of her neck holding her head in a way that she could see his eyes. Her right hand flew to his chest, right where his heart was.

Her eyes looked at him from under her long lashes. Oh lord, he was sure that that was what you see when you are received in heaven and if his assumptions were true, he hoped to go to heaven when he died. She touched his nose with hers, asking permission for something. The beast in him melted with how delicate she was acting, but to hell with that because in one second her pupils dilated to the point that her eyes were almost black. In a blink of an eye she was kissing him like he was the only life source on the planet.

He lifts her and makes her sit at her own desk and him standing between her legs. Tommy’s rough hand digging in her waist while the other hangs to her head. She moans and he feels like he is touching the sky. The kiss was broken thanks to the need to breathe.

“For the record, I'm not your property or your puppet. I'm my own person Thomas. I get it, you are a very possessive man but keep that for the bedroom, not in public.” She bit his lower lip and Tommy raised his browns.

“The bedroom, eh?” His tone was teasing and she smiled mischievously. “I hope that with that you mean that this is not a one time thing”

“Oh no Thomas. There will be more times, a lot more. Do you think that you can keep up old man?” She pecked his lips seductively.

“Oh love I'm gonna show you.” He threw all the papers in her desk to the ground and she laughed.

And that's how Thomas Shelby made her scream his name like there was no tomorrow. After all in his brain she was his property and no one touched his property.

[deadendtracks]

The fact he’s choosing to do it – he had to call Lizzie there – suggests to me there’s something *necessary* to it, if not necessarily compulsive. ... but sex as his chosen way of trying to work through whatever’s going on inside his head is a necessary and known route.

Yeah definitely, I agree with this. Where I get hung up is that there is a rote sense to it. I think I was trying to tease out that idea of him enacting on Lizzie something that's being done to him. His *absence* in that scene is notable, and doesn't resemble to me him (unconsciously or consciously) assuming the role of the people who are figuratively 'fucking' him by coercing him into doing this killing, and putting Lizzie into the role he's in. The vibe is so completely different to me. If it's an enactment, it seems a different kind of enactment from that kind of reversal of roles. He actually looks like the one *being* fucked there in some respects, despite his active/penetrative role -- he's removed himself so throughly from the present it looks like his body is just going on without him.

why not wank if it’s only the rush of orgasm he’s after, especially if Lizzie/the partner might as well not be there?

I personally feel if Tommy was *that* disassociated he just wouldn’t bother with sex.

Yeah, that's just it, isn't it? I can see why you might want to answer that with the ideas about enacting this role reversal with Lizzie, I'm not sure I see it in the actual scene as played, though, which kind of slithers away from any concrete interpretation. Because he *is* that dissociated, you know? Like that's what is on screen and how CM plays him. So idk. I feel forced to grapple with that (not that I have come up with any straightforward answers that aren't headcanon/conjecture)

So maybe some of that “why even bother, why is he doing this” is that this particular scene leans slightly more on the side of ‘author requiring it to happen for Reasons’ than fully and deeply believable as part of the character

I feel similarly to most of his scenes with sex workers throughout the series, or the scene of him in bed with the two women after the party in s2. It does sort of chafe against how the character otherwise seems; maybe some of this is a conflict between author intent and actor interpretation? But it does create this oddness about Tommy and sex.

the push-pull he has in exposing her to Mosley (at her birthday, start of S6,) but then desperately trying to claim/protect her at exactly the same time is this conflict in him about treating everyone around him like tools/soldiers but also realising by that stage that he can’t/shouldn’t. (Or he just...wouldn't engage with Mosley in that way, which is a huge different story about what reactions/actions he seems to feel he actually has available to him in that circumstance)

Yeah. I think by that point he's quite aware of this and isn't particularly treating her like a tool. First, he invited Moseley before he knew that Moseley had known Lizzie in her 'former' life, so didn't intentionally set out to expose her. Though he waits until the last moment, he's careful before the ballet to let her in on the fact Mosely will most likely recognize her from that context, and he doesn't ask her to play any role there (and seems to admire when she tells Mosley off, rather than worry about how it might impact his own plans). By the time he gets to s6 he makes somewhat of an attempt to 'brief' her but again, not beforehand and not in much depth.

So he's not necessarily ensuring she's out of the line of fire, but he's also not 'using' her in the way he would have in say, s2. Not to say he couldn't have been more upfront with her and given her the choice to not attend the ballet under those circumstances; he's not quite there yet.

Tommy probably *would* develop an emotionally intimate relationship with his drycleaner if he used them long enough…lol...actually he *did* have a pretty complex relationship with his launderer in S1...all occuring quite correctly within the bounds of the roles/rank/status, but still kind of deeper than expected.

Yeah, the dry cleaner example wasn't the best 1:1 comparison. But idk, maybe like your hairdresser/barber, you tend to talk to them even about your personal life (depending on your personality and theirs) but if they tried to say 'i wish you wouldn't pay me and would treat me like a girlfriend' you'd probably feel they were crossing a boundary?

But like... he *does* listen and he does think about what she said and act to support her goal of getting out of the 'life' she's in -- something he sees as similar to his own motivations. I don't think their relationship prior to that was impersonal or just strictly customer/client, there was bound to be familiarity and affection, but what Lizzie says there *is* a bit out of the bounds of their previous dynamic (from his perspective; her perception might have been different) in a way that throws him initially.

And him giving her the job is a way of re-establishing that boundary in a different way; he's not interested (then) in what she's interested in (she's at least a little in love with him and wants a relationship) but he does give her what he can give her, something else she desires (to stop sex work).

responding to @divinekangaroo's response to me!

re: the Lizzie scene in s2, I never feel like I can articulate what I see in any kind of coherent way. It's one of those completely *weird* scenes that CM throws in every so often that isn't quite what you'd expect it to be but isn't particularly easily defined, either.

The impending assassination and his emotional shut down over Grace are definitely elements!

The ability to get away from being used to kill, but then being locked back into it against his will.

Yeah, absolutely, this is incredibly important to both season 2 and season 3 (and arguably season 5 in a different way).

I have such a sense he’s almost *forcing* himself to do it.

Yeah absolutely, that's how I look at it too. I don't sense any anger in it, but Tommy does often react to situations he can't escape by 'going away' in a sense (dissociating, detaching, withdrawing emotionally).

I wonder how this fits with what you talk about later regarding him 'acting out' on Lizzie what's being done to him -- would he have to so obviously force himself to do this if that were the case? It seems like it would be more compulsive/irresistible and feel necessary for him if that was the motivating factor? He doesn't seem to be aware enough to have it be the case that he feels this compulsion and knows where it's coming from and is struggling with it by becoming detached, idk.

From Lizzie’s words (and how warm the two of them are in the typewriter scene) I have to assume they’ve had a relatively amicable paid sexual relationship, and Tommy’s definitely acting different in that particular scene.

Yeah definitely. This tends to be misinterpreted by some parts of fandom as how he *always* is with Lizzie, but Lizzie's reaction to him is definitely a little "idk what *that* was about" and she wouldn't behave the way she does if that was how he typically treated her. There's also the fact that despite his demeanor in that scene where he seems to be dismissive of her, in the next scene he shows he'd listened to her and thought about what she said.

It’s not really about pleasure or release before a risky venture that might kill him. It’s not even about Lizzie at all, or a comment on his prior (or upcoming) connection with Lizzie. A reminder to himself about being used, the way certain disadvantaged people are always used no matter what they actually want, the way he feels about being used that way. And a very strong reminder at the end when Lizzie outreaches for connection that you take the money and treat the exchange as a transaction.

Yeah, that could be part of it, though to me it doesn't feel like he's aware enough even of Lizzie's presence for this to be a kind of acting out of that dynamic on another person -- instead it's like she's not even there (and he's not there either). In some ways you wonder why he's doing it at all. One of my theories about Tommy & sex is that he uses it to get out of his own anxiety spirals/out of his head, so maybe that was what he was hoping would happen and he was just too dissociated from the fact of what he was about to do to get anything out of it but taking the edge off.

So he uses Lizzie, not cruelly or unfairly in that desk scene given she is a prostitute then: she’s his only lover that he doesn’t have to perform with. He can have terrible sex, he doesn’t have to think about her pleasure, he doesn’t have to perform or satisfy her or try to influence her.

In some ways she's also the only person he doesn't have to perform for period, he's always performing for his family, he's always performing for his enemies and for the upper classes. He can often be quite 'flat affect' with them but never quite to this extent; with Lizzie he can drop even the pretense that he's present. Which isn't great for her! But his reaction to her wanting *more* from him ('i wish just once you wouldn't pay for it like normal people' or whatever she says) could be all about the fact that what he *wants* in that moment is to not have to be anything or anyone to her or himself, he wants to *not be.*

Tangentially: I also think a lot of his behaviours with Lizzie are actually about what’s going on in himself, not about his feelings for her.

Yeah, absolutely. His first scene with her at Epsom is about this; he's too wrapped up in what he's about to do to even hear what she's saying or how she feels about it; and I don't think it has a lot to do with what he thinks about her as a person, he's just dropped into that headspace where he can't spare anything for anyone.

This Lizzie as a Tommy-distorted-mirror warps and shifts over time, but I think S2 in particular she’s almost this “sexual-tool / extension-of-himself” to be that mirror of him being used as a “killing-tool” where he has no choice, and he actively uses her that way in the sex scene and at Epsom.

That's an interesting point. To riff on it a bit I think it connects to "everyone's a whore, Grace" and to "everyone gets tired, Finn" -- I think in a wider sense Tommy's thinking is nearly always war-time, in that everyone around him is also a combatant and there are no civilians. It's the same with his brothers often, it's the same with how he has disregard for the civilians in the housing project in the season 4 shootout: this is a battlefield for him so he treats everyone else as if they're also in the battlefield situation with him.

Which... at least for Lizzie and those civilians in s4, they didn't sign up for this! He blurs the lines between how people use their bodies-as-tools, including, later, himself. I think a lot of this comes from having been a lower level officer ranked over his brothers -- to have mentally survived at some point he'd have had to detach from any personal feelings about who he's 'using' to fight these battles and how, and now he can't turn it off.

He also fully intended for Lizzie not to have to go through with it, which is important; at the same time he'd have to know there'd always be a risk of that going wrong in ways that (at that point) wouldn't be true of himself (he'd end up injured, killed, arrested rather than raped).

asking for Lizzie as a thing/a Tommy substitute -- well, he actually did do that to Lizzie at Epsom, because he couldn’t do it himself. 

And it shows how he changes by s5 where he absolutely would never offer Lizzie to Moseley even if it would be strategically advantageous; instead he'll keep putting himself into the position where it's possible he'll have to do it himself, which terrifies him.

[sirensmojo]

“KINDRED”, 1 - Tommy Shelby x Reader

Warnings: Swearing, Fluff, Guns, Tommy & Reader being bitches

Summary: Tommy meets a librarian that he discovered to be the chief of an underground organisation. Needing man enough allies to dirty their hands in the battle against Oswald Mosley, he shakes hands with the devil. Feelings intertwine with business, a mix that leads to unalterable ends...

Word Count: 5k+

*London*

The man entered the library in a hurry, the door making a grinding sound as he paused for a second, his eyes wandered on the areas as if looking for something. 

Your face popped off the book lying on the table where you had been sitting for almost an hour now. 

Quickly enough, when you caught sight of the individual that had just entered your space, your head went down to the printed lines again as the tip of your fingers were scratching, up and down, the back of your neck. 

You heard footsteps navigating through the shelves to which you paid no mind. It’s only when you heard them walking towards your desk that you tuned your ears to the sound.

A shadow fell over the pages and the clearing of a throat resonated in the peaceful silence.

 You sighed at the interruption and looked up at the intruder. 

Your eyes encountered a not so tall man, wearing an elegant and costly-looking dark blue suit, adorned by a neat long coat. 

He remained silent as he opened his coat with one hand, searching his pockets for something. Your eyes stared at his hand as it came out with a cigarette between two fingertips, which you followed with your gaze to his mouth.

That’s when you finally saw his face and recognized him to be Tommy Shelby.

“Searching the political area” the blue-eyed man voiced, not a single look thrown your way. 

He was too occupied lightening his cig. 

You pointed, nonetheless, at the direction of the section he’d asked. You then, hassled back to your book, not giving him a second glance as you turned a page. 

As you did so, Tommy frowned, squinting his eyes. His focus fluttered from your face to the novel a couple times. 

Afterwards, he puffed on his cigarette and walked toward the politic’s shelves. 

(...)

Book in hand, shaking it proudly he reappeared in front of the desk.

“Found what you were looking for, eh?” You offered him a smile as if you hadn’t totally ignored him several minutes before. 

He chuckled to himself. “I’d like to take that for some hours”. 

“If it’s only for a couple hours...” You begin, pointing at the tables in the corner of the building, near the huge windows.

“you must do what you got to do there. Else, you must pay and keep it for at least three days before returning it” You muttered outright. 

Thomas scoffed, turning towards the tables and stared at them with contempt before he turned back at you. He shook his head in disbelief, his mouth opening as if to speak but he didn’t seem to be able to find his words. 

So, with a final frown, he gave up and went back to staring holes into your head. 

You basically just put Thomas Shelby back in his place.

Of course, he knew there were rules, but none of the librarians he has met before actually told them to him.

Too afraid to look a Shelby in the eyes, even more, to surrender them to some rules about borrowing a book. 

But here he was, in front of you that seems not to care what his last name was. 

You let go of your reading, turning it paper against the wood to keep your page. 

Fetching some papers out of the drawer, you began to fill a form with what he recognized to be his name, then as you got ready to write his address, you finally lifted your head and addressed him.

“Would you mind giving me your home location Mr Shelby?” You asked, eyes devoid of emotion.

“Are you going to come and fetch the book yourself if I don’t return it in time, aye?” He returned, tilting his head to the side.

Even if his voice wasn’t capable of wording it playfully, you knew he didn’t take the process seriously. You decided to ignore the peaky blinder and wrote down the address you were well aware of from the very start. 

The man clenched his jaw, watching you write down the address of his mansion as if you knew each other intimately. 

“I’ll do without your signature” You murmured utterly to yourself even though Tommy did hear it. 

“It’s 13 shillings.” You added, staring right at Thomas, not an ounce of fear in your expression. 

He just placed on the table the money he owed and walked away, letting himself turn back to peek at you. 

Some research will have to be done to uncover your identity. He had never until now seen you at the library, although it had been a meeting place for Ada and him multiple times as his sister works here as a counselor.

(...)

Back home, Thomas was met by Lizzie, a shoulder against the frame of the open door, her arms crossed on her chest.

“Pol’ is here, she says she wants to talk to you about Michael”. Her sweet voice contrasting her worried eyes. She was trying to read her husband’s expression.

He walked past her, greeting the maid that indicated to him the presence of guests she had guided to wait in his office. 

“Tommy!” Polly exclaimed, her eyes lit up at the sight of him. 

She had been on Tommy’s side since Michael’s return, but this meeting was leading him up to believe that perhaps, she had finally heard her son out and was here to convince him to do so as well.

Without sparing them a glance, he went behind the large desk and speak to them:

“I’m busy.” 

At the dismissal, Polly’s hopeful face fell.

“There are some things you might want to know”.

At the sound of this voice he had long ago hoped to never have to hear again, his shoulders tensed. Taking his coat off, the two individuals forward him could see the whitening of his tightened hands. Wanting to calm himself down, he lit a cigarette and sat.

After a few strained minutes of silence, during which the other occupants of the room could only stare as Tommy poured himself some whiskey and proceeded to drink it as if no one was there, he finally got sick of seeing their faces, eventuating in him breaking the silence.

“The American gentleman has decided he wants to speak, now.” 

He emphasizes the first words as if to provoke Michael, who knew it wasn’t a question but a statement. So the younger Gray clenches his jaw to remain silent.

“Where’s your wife, Michael?” 

He mockingly said, sipping on the liquor.

“Tommy,” Pol’ warned.

“What? It looks like they make a hell of a couple, ready to take on the world, my business even, eh?” The family leader continues to incite, with a merry tone.

“It’s not like you haven't had your day” Proudly spit his younger cousin, ignoring the staring battle between Tommy and his mother.

The eldest Shelby looked up at Polly’s son with an unreadable expression on his face. He straightened up in his chair and grabbed a cigarette with two of his fingers that he pointed toward the man in front of him.

“See, Michael, you keep saying that you’re willing to take the head of the family business in America out of care for the family. But to me, it looks like you were always lurking at the back, waiting for the moment you’ll be able to take everything for you.” 

He was blankly staring at the younger Gray, waiting for an answer that never came.

Polly’s back stiffened, the insinuation of her son having schemed against Thomas making her unable to even make the slightest move.

She couldn’t blame Thomas for thinking that as it all made sense, but she wouldn’t... couldn’t think her son of being capable of such a thing.

Or at least, that, she wanted to believe.

(...)

Days later, Tommy met with a couple of people, from policemen to bureaucrats, whilst attending the usual business tasks, to learn more about you. 

He had to know if you were a potential risk to his family, after all, you knew his address, what if you communicated it to his enemies, or if you were an enemy?

Not that he thought you were, but something was off. He couldn’t quite yet put his finger on it, but he had a feeling, probably a gipsy thing, he thought to reassure himself. 

The primary reason he got the book was to better study the ascension of different politic’s sides. His actual main focus being to stop Mosley by any means, he needed more knowledge to be able to think of a strategy.

With Mosley, he just couldn’t afford defeat. At least not without giving it a good fight.

Nonetheless, while it began as a business matter, this book gave him an opportunity he would’ve never thought to exist.

(...)

Early in the morning, as he lit up his first cigarette, he heard two quiet knocks at the door. Tommy stood up in a hurry, almost running to the front door, a hand grabbing his gun as he uncocked the safety. 

Nobody knew about this house except the family, and it was far too early for a Shelby to come and visit.

The blue-eyed man took a peek through the window, before opening the door. Gun pointed toward the individual’s head, the tip of it centred right between the brows, Tommy exhaled. 

“I’ve been expecting that book for two days..” the figure paused, sliding a hand in their suit pocket to glance at their watch.“... and 5 hours exactly”.

One of their brows lifted at Shelby’s lack of reaction. Who other than you could it be?

Without a word, you entered the house, your heels echoing against the walls of the elegant mansion’s hall. You looked around as if to confirm that you indeed were inside the house of the famous and feared gangster.

“How about you put down the gun, eh.” You commanded, turning around to look him in the eyes as a snicker slipped through your painted lips. 

“Well, Y/F/N, what do you fucking want?”He was holding the gun steady, ready to shoot whenever, whatever.

“Huh, you researched me. That warms my heart” You mockingly let out, disdain in your voice. “I bet you have questions. So? Did my several years as a nurse at the war impress you, Mr Shelby, or perhaps my calling for illegal & criminal activities?”

You scoffed at yourself. By enunciating those things he probably knew already, you showed him you weren’t impressed he researched you.

“Anyway, all this fuss isn’t necessary.” You tried to convince him again, but this time, your hand went flat on the top of the gun still pointed towards you and pushed it down very softly, taking the blue-eyed man’s hand in yours.

At the touch of your skin, an electric current ran down his spine making Tommy step back. 

Your eyes flickered a quick instant, a curious gleam making them shine. He wondered if you too had felt it.

“Plus, I heard you have children? We wouldn’t want them to see their father holding a gun.” You simply put.

He let you pass him by and continue your walk out of the house, toward the garden.

Coming back to himself, Tommy realized he hadn’t blinked for a whole minute. He exhaled deeply and put back the gun in his shoulder holster. 

It was only when they reached the little table, that the peaky blinder allowed himself to take a closer look at the stranger sitting in front of him. 

Your suit was dark-blue, ornamented with stripes of lighter grey complimented by the various golden rings that adorned your fingers. 

You hair fell beautifully on your shoulders, framing your face. 

His eyes finally reached yours that were underlined by charcoal liner and your E/C iris were shamelessly staring into his heathen soul.

Tommy had heard of the English political party that shook traditions about women, norms and rights. And from the masculine way you were dressed up to the way you refused to fit women’s 20’s haircuts, he thought you might've been a member of the Women’s Social and Political Union. 

Once again it was his intuition talking to him. If he was right and that you were into politics, that means you could be useful in Mosley’s downfall. 

He had to figure out a way you two could get along. 

“What business do you have in Birmingham?” Tommy managed to word even though he is not used to be the one initiating talking.

“I was born here. But ‘am also the owner of the London library where you borrowed your book. And I came here to give the first warning.” You playfully returned, lighting up a cigarette. 

So you were the new owner of the library Ada mentioned when he questioned her. But it just couldn’t be it.

“What? Don’t you think there is enough criminal in here for me to join ‘em, Thomas?” You said as if knowing he didn’t believe you were here solely because of a library. You were reading his silence with a disconcerting facility and it started to get on Tom’s nerves.

“You’re not from here, War Service Record mentioned you were from Paris--”

“My father. I, myself am very much from Birmingham.” You snapped back without even letting the Shelbys head reach the end of his sentence.

Noticing the annoyance all over your face, he felt a sudden need for fresh air aching in his chest. He grabbed a cigarette and ignited it quickly. 

Your mysterious stare was still persistent, almost making the Shelby brother uncomfortable. 

“Is that all, Miss Y/L/N?”

“Call me Y/N. And yes, That’s all.” You got up, ready to leave.

“Then, Miss Y/F/N,” He emphasized your full name as if to put a distance between you two “the next time you step foot in my mansion without being invited to do so, it’ll be a bullet to the fucking head.”

You leant forward as your hands laid flat on the table. You were so close, he could feel your warm breath on his skin. And as you placed your lips to his ear:

“If you ever again point a gun at me, better aim right cause if you don’t, I’ll shoot back and I don’t miss, Tom” You patted his shoulder. 

The Peaky Blinder didn’t know what annoyed him the most, the words or the touch, although if being honest with himself, he would admit the touch wasn’t as annoying as he wanted to believe.

A torrent of thoughts overwhelmed him as he slowly processed the words you had murmured to him. It wasn’t a menace, it was worse than that, it was a promise.

“I’ll be looking forward to your visit, Mr Shelby.”

He stood up, but you were already far away, your coat flailing behind you.

(...)

On an evening, coming back from London, Tommy got home, walked through the hall, joined the dining room and looked at Lizzie that was already sitting at the table:

“Dinner will be without me tonight.” He said, putting on his béret.

“Where are you going?” She asked, but he didn’t respond, turning on his heels and walking outside. “You agreed on letting me in sometimes, Tommy.” She urged as she followed him.

“Well, Lizzie, I’m trying to make today a good day.” He coughed away anything his wife could want to object. 

He drove to the old yet refined London’s building. After he parked, he paused to look intently at the imposing glass doors. 

The building hadn’t always been this huge library. Actually, the last time he was here, it used to only occupy the first floor, but it seems the new owner had bigger plans. 

Now, the whole structure had been remodelled, bookshelves could be seen through the wide windows on all 3 floors, the fourth one had a soft light emitting from it and from where he was, the Shelby brother could see a shadow pacing back and forth.

Only five days had passed since you came to the manor and pressure Tommy with your fearless fierceness, and he could see the arrangement work was almost done. 

While workers were leaving the library, Tom was getting in and envied them as their headache would disappear as soon as they walked out, whereas Tommy’s appeared as soon as he walked in.

He somehow felt like talking to you would be worse than a full day of work.

He opened the heavy doors and as he was approaching the desk, noticed a golden plaque on the nearest wall:   

 Floor 1. Novels.

Floor 2. Science.

Floor 3. Politics.

Tommy paused and read the plaque a second time. 

He counted four floors, didn’t he?

Why would they omit the presence of a fourth one when it was clear someone was up there. The absence of its mention aroused his curiosity, but he didn’t have time to dwell on it as a voice approached him.

“Hello, sir, this’ a library. The pub’s the other side o’ the street.” Said the woman with judgment underlining her strong accent.

Tommy looked at her, dismissing her insult by a cough, as he waved the object in his hand.

“Came to return it.” He placed the book on the table, the tip of his fingers patting its cover as the woman put on a fake smile.

“A name?” The voice resonated, its owner opening the drawer full of files.

“Shelby.” 

At the mention of the name, the desk woman raised her eyes to the man standing in front of her and blinked a couple times before glancing at the stairs against the furthest wall. “The fourth flo’, you’re expected.” She leaned toward Thomas murmuring as if telling a secret.

“Fourth floor?” He repeated to himself. So he was right, the top of this building was indeed occupied.

As he wondered who the mysterious shadow he saw earlier belonged to and what might wait for him there, his attention instinctively drifted to Miss forced-smile again. 

She was staring at him as if he owed her something, so he lifted a brow at her, waiting for her to speak.

“I’ll need a pound.” She simply put. 

“‘S’cuse me?”

“The book, Mr Shelby. It’s the penalty.”

He scoffed at the revelation, the woman staring at him until he placed the pound on her desk. She then started filling the returning paper without a second glance to the peaky blinder.

(...)

The fourth floor was a never-ending corridor with brown and cream patterns on the walls that led to an imposing wooden door. 

Apprehension seizing him, Tommy frowned. He wasn’t sure he could trust that fucking desk lady, but the adrenaline led him to knock anyway.

“It’s open.” Stated a distorted voice.

Tommy entered the room, stumbling on a vast sophisticated office.

Classical music could be heard in the background, variations of piano only. Golden framed paintings were hanging on the wooden decorated walls, matching the golden details of the little marble table on his right. 

It was encircled by two leather armchairs and an opulent lion paw sofa. 

On the counter against the opposite wall rested a collection of fancy glass-bottled alcohol and near it was a snifter cabinet.

Ahead of him was a large sculpted desk with an artistic lamp enlightening loads of papers. A desk nameplate indicated Tommy was in your office. His eyes lift to the familiar face. 

“Here you are,” You muttered, getting up from your chair, your heels making a muffled noise on the seemingly expensive carpet. 

A folder in one hand, a cigarette in the other, you passed by him, so close you briefly touched. Your bewitching perfume filled the man’s nostrils with fragrance as his gaze followed you going to the door to close it. 

“Whiskey? Irish, right?” You spoke, joining the counter and pouring two drinks.

For the first time since the blue-eyed man entered the room, you looked up to him. 

“Perhaps Mr Shelby lost his tongue?” You asked with curiosity. 

You looked surprised by Tommy’s lack of enthusiasm as if you were waiting for him to ripost when you cast the barb.

“Is being rude pre-required to work in this library?” He ignored your previous comment.

You frowned in what seemed to be confusion, but quickly smiled in understanding. “Oh, right, Ana. I take it she left quite an impression.”

Tommy scoffed, shaking his head at your ridiculous reaction.

“You do realize that she’s supposed to be welcoming, and not make you want to leave and never return, right?”

You laughed leaving Thomas aghast. “Ana’s not the desk lady. She was only here because I trusted her to send you my way, and she did.” You said with a satisfied smile on your face.

While Shelby was surprised at the first half of your sentence, curiosity took over at the second half. “So this is the first of your gangsters I’ve met, a woman.” 

You knew Tommy wasn’t the type to diminish women’s work according to what you read about him, you surmised it was more to gauge your reaction to him talking about your organisation, which you were fine with.

“All of ‘em, women.” You accentuated your words, mimicking disgust.

He let out a snort, but you kept on as if you hadn’t heard him.

“I bet if you tried to know her you would in fact, like Ana.”

Raising his eyebrows at your admittance, Tommy decided to drop the light talk and get to business.

Even though he was still quite taken aback by the settings of this meeting he hadn’t forgotten the thing he wanted from you. 

He knew you were “prosperous” according to his readings, but this office showed him the chosen adjective didn’t do justice to reality.

“I want to deal with Mosley, Miss Y/L/N. And I’d like to believe you’re here to do the same.” His grave tone filled the room.

“Call me Y/N,” your arm invited the man onto the sofa. 

You handed a cup to the peaky blinder that gladly took it before moving to him with your own and the folder that you dropped on the table while sitting. “here is a list of every man you need to keep an eye on in order to accomplish your plan safely.”

He looked over to you at the announcement of his plan. Of course, you were informed, of course, you weren’t only here for a library. 

He took the file and started to flip through the papers, his index patting on a specific name. He glanced you. 

“Michael Gray” He read out loud.

“You have to know Captain Swing from the occupied six counties and I had met a couple times. I found it funny how you ignored the fact your cousin, who had lost nearly $2 million in America, was serenely aboard the SS Monroe in Belfast dock, plotting with men that want you dead.  Some representatives from County Tyrone and Glasgow UVF--”

“She told me.” Tommy cut you as if he wanted to dismiss the call he had with Captain Swing.

You, aware of what he was trying to do, continued to remind him where his cousin’s betrayal began.

“They were talking ‘bout how they’d divided up the English racetracks after they’d blown away your legs.” 

You were intently looking at him, accentuating some words as if to show the urge for him to realize the gravity of the situation.

Tommy wasn’t waiting on a specific call that day, so he knew trouble was coming when the operator told him the call was from Belfast. 

But God, it was worse than anything that could be expected. 

A certain Captain Swing captured his cousin that was returning from America. She said he was dealing with some men that were Shelby’s enemies, talking about his downfall and the benefits of it. 

She offered him two options: Put a bullet in the head of Michael right away or send him “home”, to Birmingham.

Tom did choose the second one... after a long minute of thinking.

“And may I ask… why are you doing me this favour?”

The woman on the phone clicked her tongue before responding, 

“Because, Mr Shelby, we’ve been informed by people at the very highest level, that since your conversion to socialism, you’re now on the side of the angels. And angels can be useful to us.” 

The last thing the peaky blinder heard was the line disconnecting.

“People at the very highest level, eh. So it was you.” He chuckled to himself, getting up to face the windows. 

He placed a hand into his coat searching for something and as he did so, you placed your fingers on your gun that was still in your shoulder holster. 

Even if he didn’t show it, it was clear the news startled him, and you didn’t know what he would do next, you had to be ready.

“You spied on me.” He turned to you and you let go of your gun seeing he pulled out his cigarette case, an unreadable expression on both his face & tone.

As if he needed time to discuss internally with himself, he lit a cigarette and smoked half of it before exhaling deeply, rubbing a hand on his face. 

You waited patiently for the expression of the Shelby brother to tell you you could go on. Even if it wasn’t an easy task to understand or read Thomas Shelby, you were arrogant enough to think you succeeded at it.

“You did it too. You’re just not used to being searched the way you research others.” You managed to slide your hair from one shoulder to the other, to light a cig. 

“You get used to it.” You assured him, inhaling as much smoke as you could. 

“Listen, you don’t get the right to erase crucial information because it’s about a member of your family. He is a threat that needs to be dealt with, Thomas. I know you trust no one, even less me, you have no reason to, but I’m saying it anyway because I want you to understand that not every time you do something right, innocent people have to die.” 

As soon as he heard your last words, he turned to you, waiting for an answer to a question he hadn’t worded yet.

“Who’s going to die?” He muttered.

“We are to be partners, so I’ll give you an ounce of who I am: my father died at the beginning of the war, leading me to enter it. When I joined the nurses I wanted to die, just like him. He was all I ever had, I didn’t think I could be anything without him. You damn know war, so I’ll skip to what happened after: I came back. I’ve failed to die, but my profile caught the eye of a police officer. He saw I could use my head and logic to know my enemy’s strategy and predict their next move. So I worked for him nearly one year before I killed him.”

You totally ignored Thomas' question, hoping your monologue will keep Tom’s mind busy so he’d forget what you previously said, and it worked. 

Tommy’s face met with your piercing-eyes as you shrug.

“Corruption. Soon enough, the police department found a bounty killer in me.” You stop at Shelby’s scoff. He shook his head, brows raised as reaching for his alcohol. He then led his cup to his mouth and drank it in one go.

“Didn’t you find that?” Your high-pitched tone expressed your surprise.

“Nah.” He clicks his tongue. “So you’re a copper?”  You shook your head.

“I stayed in Paris, as I already had quite a reputation there. People respected me despite my gender, so I was able to do most things women are forbidden to do. On one hand, I was still a bounty killer with some girls, on the other hand, I’d started a counterfeit money’s enterprise. And given all of my options there, I opened a bar for women to debate and learn. It wasn’t easy as I wasn’t married, there was no man to “tame” me as high society people said, but I managed to buy a racetrack, and with a little bit of fighting, gave women the opportunity to bet. And even if I fought for the women’s cause, men liked my face along with what I represented... “ Thomas' stare got heavier as questions came to his mind at almost each of your sentences.

“I used their attraction towards me to get what I wanted. And ultimately, I entered politics.” You sipped on your drink.

“You forgot to mention you being a librarian, aren’t you, Y/N?” It was the first time he’d called you that, but it somehow felt natural. 

As you smirked looking away, he could tell you’d noticed how good your name sounded on his lips.

“It only helps for the public image. People like to ask questions about your income sources if you hadn’t noticed. And for people like us, it’s better to have sturdy explanations.” You served yourself another full cup of whiskey.

“Was it the chase of gangsters that made you like whiskey over gin, eh?” Tommy teased you.

“Are women solemnly allowed to drink gin, Mr Shelby?” You raised a brow at him, curiously waiting on his answer. 

“You were indeed a suffragette.” He firmly stated, nodding to himself.

“Bonne intuition *speaking french*(=good intuition). That’s good.” You were pleased. 

“I, when leaving Paris, was told to beware of you. ‘The bastard thinks’ were their exact words. Even out the borders, people know the peaky boys.” You gave a faint smile while Tommy chuckled, smoking his cig.

“We’re going to need it for this new war.”

“Need what?

“Instinct.” You got up, turning up the volume more. When back, you filled Tommy’s glass. You found the man looking through one of the windows, arms crossed in his back.

“Not so sure it works that way around here.” 

You joined him, handing him his cup. He stepped aside, putting a certain distance between you. You were faster than he to noticed.

“All the big cities work the same, Mr Shelby. I’ve been here before, once you know the flaws in one of ‘em, you know the flaw in ‘em all.” You assured him with confidence, stealing the man’s cigarette from his lips.

You stepped into his space.

“You’ve been here before, hm. And what part of your business does this library cover for?” The peaky blinder took his cup from your hand.

He stepped into your space.

“The right question is not ‘what part’, rather ‘what business does this library cover for?’. I branched out, remember? Like you should.”

Tommy was uncomfortable regarding the turning of the meeting.

“Do you like music, Mr Shelby? I, meself enjoy very much Erik Satie. He was french and died in Paris a couple years ago, unfortunately. I’ve met him, several times in fact, at some events such as festivals, ballets, theatrical performances, and other fancy evenings, you know?” You were restlessly talking, seeking any emotion in Tom’s face.

Even if his primary idea was to come and suggest that the two of you could work together, he didn’t think this would’ve been this easy to convince you, or that you would be so open about yourself, you didn’t behave the same as you did during your previous meetings, which confused Tommy.

“No--No, I don’t know, I was born gipsy, not born with a silver spoon in me mouth” His tone filled with sarcasm, he caught you staring at him. You didn’t release the look, nor did he.

“I wasn’t either, I just worked my way up there.” You handed back the cigarette to Tommy.

He glanced at you that was standing beside him, you were now looking at the movements in the street with an unreadable face.

“Guess politics offer diverse opportunities?”

You were fierce, without a doubt, but for some reason, your guards were down this evening. Perhaps this meeting established your partner status?

“Would you drive all the way to Westminster in London to talk every week at the House Of Commons, if not?” You retorted a brow raised high.

So you were aware of his position there... It wasn’t too much to say your whole character was a mystery to him. 

Sometimes you were head-on & aggressive, sometimes you seemed confident and serene. But overall, you were aware of yourself and everything you might be concerned about. 

You knew how to collect information and use it to your advantage. He didn’t doubt you were smart, but the best thing he’d seen about you so far was your patience. 

You knew everything would fall into place as you handled it with a tight hand, so you weren’t rushing over anything nor slipping key information to demonstrate your power. 

You used them at the right time, always reminding the people working with you that you were to be taken seriously.

The more he knew about you, the more emotions were settling in him. Which didn’t happen in a long time. 

He couldn’t even get something as basic as sleep, so how could he afford to feel things? But here he was, his heart fluttering at the idea you were maybe what he was looking for: a man that he couldn’t defeat. A woman, innit.

He was reassuring himself thinking “it’s only business” when catching his thoughts drifting to the tornado that you were, but as you succeeded to impress him every time, he admitted there was something about you that was calling him.

“You’re on your own?” The words left his mouth softly.

“Beg pardon?” You drank your drink taking your time, appreciating the burning spreading in your chest. 

“You’re in town by yourself, no one to call family then?” Tom tried to cover his thirst to know more.

You didn’t respond right away, looking into the liquid in your drink as if searching for the answer there. You were unreadable again.

“I am.” You finished your cup.

The man didn’t even try to pretend he wasn’t staring at you, his deep blue eyes searching your soul in the slightest of your move or expression as a peaceful silence settled between you. 

Following Chapter ❱

[twvstedsouls]

S6.04 - MY THOUGHTS

this is just first thoughts, after first viewing.

just the look tommy gave arthur when arthur said he couldn’t do it.

the creaking in the background during the funeral speech of tommy’s.

…again peaceful, good, down the river. similar promise as he did after grace died.

tommy’s way of coping with loss, he can’t just sit still and wallow in it, he has to go, has to do something it (though it clearly doesn’t work).

look like i was wrong about the forest scene, the man he shot isn’t johnny dogs, just a member of the boswell family (but there’s still that picture of the bar fight)

not a fan of the music this episode, doesn’t fit very well, sort of brings you out of it (but i don’t know, maybe it’s intentional?)

holy shit!!!!!! the duke shelby is not john’s kid but tommy’s!

lolololol esme after that asking for more gold. though could she stop him from taking duke with him if he wanted to?

tommy talking about just casually stepping onto ‘another boat’ as if he can go on/move on just like that. while technically he’s shown that he can, it’s not that simple.

love the brother bonding. the typical conversation between brothers they never really have.

tommy’s drinking again. ruby one loss too many.

‘because you let me win. you wanted me to win. you wanted me to win ever since.’

jdhfgdjgjfgjdn obsessed with this. sort of gives more depth to the question that’s always sort of floating around, not having a full, complete or completely satisfied answer: why is tommy in charge and not arthur as the eldest? (not just skills, competency, not wanting to on arthur’s part)

‘just a few more yards left to go.’

tommy how are you going to change the world when you’ve started drinking again?

charles saying ‘she holds onto me.’ though it indicates he’s referring to lizzie, what if he’s referring to ruby?

saying that you’re ok, doesn’t make it so.

captain swing probably like: what the fuck am doing here? while also she seems the only one genuine in her condolences/about mourning/grief.

loved the parallels/edit of ada, arthur and lizzie.

wouldn’t it be something if that was ruby’s favourite horse?

all this camera panning at the table meeting scene, unnerving scene and different tone to the rest.

karl still thinking and talking the same. not surprised. ada’s comeback, amazing. karl trying to belong but not really belonging anywhere (different upbringing/schooling than his parents, yet not the same as his fellow students).

ruby’s chair.

same typewriter that he bought lizzie fdkgkdgkgn

maybe tommy’s sick? or charles? or maybe lizzie?

RUBY’S CHAIR.

not yet. change how?

was that michael? WAIT, was that mosley?

gina possibly going to spy for tommy, interesting.

the whole ‘I will know.’

this is more like season 5 gina.

the fly and tommy staring at it. something about death/close to death/it clinging to him (lingering death of ruby’s and possibly the impeding/impending of his own).

dkjghkdghkdjgnkdfn ANEURNIN BARNARD.

wait…what?

his personal doctor. who we’ve probably never seen because when does tommy ever go to the doctor? (unless he has no choice)

so he got the TB bacteria from ruby.

explanation for seizures/hallucinations, etc. YES.

the enemy he can’t defeat isn’t a person.

‘my accountant was just leaving’ - so as usual, hiding what’s wrong with him from the people he loves.

‘not a devil, just an ordinary mortal man.’ so he’d given up on becoming god, then tried to be the devil, but now realises he is what he is, and can’t change that.

love polly’s prediction again at the end. as well as grace’s breath (so far it just seemed not fitting very well, but this time it hits different/good)

about the grace breath thing: goes all back to that interview/article on the official peaky blinders website (i think?) about grace in season 5 now associated with the black horse, not the white, no longer good but evil, an evil spirit/ghost.

and this breath sort of feels/visualizes as grace digging her claws deeper/tightening her hold to finally rip him away.

edit:

realized I misunderstood the ‘stepping onto another boat’ thing. the members of the boswell family he killed are in the boat he’s stepping off of, so does he mean by this and ‘good’ that he’ll no longer kill? or is promising not to die or kill himself?

[peakyswritings]

Terrified

John Shelby x female!reader

Requested by: anonymous

Warnings: drinking, smoking, sexual harassment, misogyny, violence

The gif is not mine, credits to the owner

You were standing alone in the middle of the dining room, drinking wine in your fancy dress with a bored look in your face, waiting for the ballet to start. It was Lizzie’s birthday, Tommy had invited a ballet company for the event. You didn’t actually want to be there, you hated those kind of events, but Lizzie was your friend and you were John’s girlfriend, you had to be present. You had known the Shelbys since you were fourteen and following John around like a puppy. It took you years to finally gather up the courage to reveal your feelings for each other. You had been together for three years and you couldn’t be happier.

“Well, well” a voice behind you said. You turned around and you saw Oswald Mosley coming closer to you with a glass in his hand and the other hand in his pocket “if it isn’t my favourite girl”

You rolled your eyes, his confident attitude making you wanna punch him in the face. You had met Mosley during one of Tommy’s business meetings and he’d had his eyes on you ever since.

“Would it be inappropriate to say that you outshine every single woman in his room?”

You cringed at his poor attempt to flirt with you, placing your glass on the table.

“It would be extremely inappropriate, Mr Mosley. And dangerous for you.”

“Oh, I love dangerous” he grinned, coming closer to you.

Luckily, John was soon by your side, wrapping a protective arm around your waist.

“Mr Mosley” he greeted, with a hint of annoyance in his tone “my brother’s waiting for you in his office”

Mosley stayed calm and collected.

“Sure. It was nice to see you again, Y/N” he smiled at you, turning around and going away.

“Was he bothering you?” John looked at you with a serious look on his face. You shook your head.

“He was just being his annoying self. Nothing to worry about” you reassured him, but he didn’t seem convinced.

******

“Are you sure you’ll be alright on your own?” John asked for the third time, after Tommy told him that he needed him for something.

“I’m sure John. I’ll find Polly or Lizzie and I’ll stay with them” you gave him a small kiss on the lips “Now go, Tommy needs you”

“I’ll be back soon, I promise” he kissed you again and he went away.

You glanced around the room, looking for a familiar face. As soon as you spotted Polly and Lizzie in a corner of the room, you walked towards them. It seemed like they weren’t having much fun either. The three of you stood there in silence for a couple of minutes.

“I don’t trust that girl at all” Polly stated at some point, looking at Gina from across the room. You and Lizzie followed her gaze.

“Do you think she’s hiding something?” you asked her, turning to look at her.

“I don’t think that. I know that.” she took a drag from her cigarette “And you’ve known me for long enough to know that I’m always right”

“Ladies”

Mosley approached you. You saw Lizzie stiffen, her lips were shut in a straight line. She had told you about her past experience with him.

“It’s a lovely night, isn’t it?” he casually asked, trying to make conversation.

Obviously, he knew that none of you wanted to talk to him. For some reason, he really liked to annoy people.

“You know” he started “it’s really strange to see so many women involved in men’s business”

“Here we go again” you rolled your eyes. He wasn’t the first man who judged the position of the women in the Shelby Company Limited. He glared at you for a moment, then he continued with his speech.

“I wonder, what do you do exactly?” he put on a curious facade, but it was just an act to hide the fact that he was being sexist “I don’t understand how you manage to keep up with the business. It’s a men’s job, after all”

Polly raised her eyebrows, starting to talk but you interrupted her. You had had enough.

“Women are just as capable as men, Mr Mosley. And if you don’t agree with that, you can take you misogynous ass somewhere else.” you snapped.

Polly and Lizzie looked at you with an amused look on their faces.

“I couldn’t have said it better” Polly said, smirking at the expression that Mosley had on his face.

He cleared his throat and he collected himself.

“In my opinion, you should really mind the way you talk to other people”

“Well” you crossed your arms over your chest “it’s not like I asked for your opinion”

He tried to say something, but he was interrupted by the maid who announced the beginning of the ballet.

******

You were sat next to John, holding his hand. He wasn’t actually the type of person who loved ballet, he seemed kinda bored.

“I have to go to the bathroom” you whispered in his ear “I’ll be back soon” he nodded and he let go of your hand.

You got up and you entered in the house, looking for the bathroom. It took you a while, Tommy’s house was huge, but you eventually found it. Little did you know, that someone had followed you and was waiting for you, leaning with their back on the opposite wall.

Once you got out and started walking down the hallway, you found yourself face to face with Mosley, who moved away from the wall.

“It wasn’t nice of you Y/N, talking to me like that...” he tutted his tongue, shaking his head in sign of disapproval “didn’t your parents teach you to treat people with respect?” He emphasised the last word.

He slowly came closer to you, taking his time, like a wolf with his prey. You took some steps backwards, but your back hit a wall. He suddenly grabbed your jaw with his hand.

“I don’t tolerate that kind of attitude” he said in a low voice with his face only a couple centimetres away from yours.

“Good thing I’m not here to please you, then” the words left your mouth before you could stop them. He clenched his jaw, tightening his grip on you.

“I think that there are several better things that you could do with that pretty mouth of yours instead of talking”

“Let me go.”

He completely ignored you, pressing his body on yours.

“Can you feel what you’re doing to me?” he growled in your ear.

In that moment, you really started to panic. He didn’t look like he intended to let you go and he was bigger than you, there was no way that you could push him away.

“I said let me go” you tried to seem confident, but the trembling in your voice betrayed you.

“Not so brave anymore, eh?”

You raised your leg to kick him where it hurt the most, but he managed to block you. He gave you an angry look and, when you least expected it, he harshly slapped you in the face. He grabbed your face again with one hand and your wrists with the other.

“Do you want me to let you go? Free yourself” he tightened his grip on your wrists.

You didn’t do anything, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of playing his sick little game of power.

“C’mon” he slightly shook you “fight. It should be easy for you, I’m just using one hand”

You tried to get away, but he was too strong. Saying that you were terrified was an understatement. He chuckled.

“Is this all you can do?”

“Oi! What the fuck are you doing?” John’s voice echoed in the hallway, making you sigh in relief. Mosley finally let you go and moved away from you.

“We were just...having a talk” he said calmly, like he wasn’t pinning you against a wall just a few moments before “you know, you should teach your girlfriend to behave” he pointed at him.

John didn’t answer, he just looked at him with an indecipherable expression. He was calm, too calm. You could cut the tension with a knife. Tommy and Arthur noticed that too, because they tried to say something, but before they could start talking, John punched him in the face. Tommy quickly held him back before he could give another blow.

“Fucking let me go, I have to teach this fucker a lesson”

“John” Tommy tightened his grip on him when he tried to free himself “John. Calm down. His time will come. Do you hear me? His time will come. But we need him alive for now.” He was speaking Romani, so that Mosley couldn’t understand a single word he was saying.

John nodded and as soon as Tommy let him go, he walked towards Mosley and he grabbed him by the collar of his shirt.

“If you try to touch her, go anywhere near her or even look at her again, I’ll cut you. I don’t care about who you are or who you think you are. I’ll fucking cut you.” he growled, a deadly serious look on his face.

“Do you understand?” he asked. When Mosley didn’t answer, he punched him in the stomach, making him gasp “I said, do you understand?”

When Mosley nodded, John let him go.

“Mr Mosley” Tommy intervened “I have to ask you to leave this house right now.”

Mosley collected himself, then he turned around and he started walking towards the exit.

John came to you and you hugged him like your life depended on it. You hadn’t realised how much you were shaking until that moment. Tommy and Arthur left to give you some privacy. He slowly moved away and he looked at cheek that Mosley had slapped, that had turned red. Some bruises were forming on your jaw and wrists.

“I shouldn’t have left you alone” he murmured, tucking a strand from your hair behind your ear.

“It’s my fault” you said with a cracked voice “I talked to him badly. He got angry because of me”

“No, Y/N” he gently took your face in his hands, looking you in the eyes “it’s not your fault. Don’t think that, not even for a second.”

You shook your head with tears in your eyes.

“Come here” he said softly, gesturing for you to hug him. You held him again, hiding your face in his shirt.

“Don’t cry, love. I’m here, no one’s going to hurt you” he reassured you, gently stroking your hair as you sobbed in his shirt.

He placed a sweet kiss on your head, cradling you in his arms.

“I’m here”

[divinekangaroo]

Also, the way the Lee fight is shot using the same slow motion, sensual attention and camerawork, so reminiscent of the horse-washing scene. It was this sensual framing of the violence (as well as three too-cool songs in a row; red right hand, blue veins, hardest button to button) that put me off on first watch, because at this early stage it made it look like the show was going to go the glorification of casual violence in favour of the Cool route. Now, I shake my head ruefully and delightedly, oh Mr Knight.

(and the way John, who has no idea what’s happening, nevertheless gleefully engaging in that fight and taking it to max velocity without hesitation, using his hat-razor to give a Lee brother a brutally forced-in Glasgow smile.)

The dialogue with the Lees takes on an interesting nuance knowing Tommy’s s6 arc and all the familial bits exposed in between. I did think Tommy only says Gypsy once (S6 E1 in the call with Lizzie about Ruby), but he uses the term Gypsy here in S1 E2; both times an epithet. The Lees in S1, the Lees in S6, both times deeply disturbing constructs going on.

Also Campbell knocked out his pipe’s ashes on the church floor; Mosley ashing his cigarette on Tommy’s office carpet.

[lunarubra]

@mischievouslittlecreature Oh my freaking God, the way I loved this chapter. Lily just... WOW

First, I love, adore, and am absolutely terrified by the way you’ve presented Mosley to us. I can still feel the tremors running down my spine. The way you wrote him—disgusting yet utterly terrifying—is just brilliant.

“Yeah.” She looked over her shoulder, half expecting Mosley to appear spontaneously behind them. “He scares me a little, Tommy.” Her voice was a rough whisper, half ashamed at the omission.  “Me too.” That got her attention, and when she looked at Tommy, she noticed something almost unsteady under the guarded armor he kept carefully in place across his eyes. Fear squeezed at her throat. 

Gosh, this part! Especially when Tommy admits he’s afraid—it’s so powerful and different from the series. In the show, Tommy never seems to value his life, so no one truly scares him because he acts like he’s already dead. But here, it’s different. They’re together, leaning on each other, and for once, they care. I swear, Lils, if Mosley even touches Lucy, I will cut him myself. I just want to see her healthy and safe, at least for this season. They really have no idea what they’re in for, do they?

The smut was as intimate, precious, and hot as ever—girl, I missed those two! They’re like naughty cats who can’t keep their hands off each other, still acting like teenagers who can’t control their hormones. Do you have your spray bottle on hand?

But I have to say, my favorite part was the final conversation between Lizzie and Lucy.

Fucking finally!!! 

How immature can Lizzie be? I’d love to meet her supplier because whatever she’s smoking to live in this fantasy world where she and Tommy are a real married couple is wild. Honestly, how many times does it need to be spelled out to her? What doesn’t she get about a marriage of convenience? They’re not together; she’s not his wife! I swear, I was thrilled when she decided to leave for a few days—good riddance.

And Lucy? She nailed it. I loved how she stood up for herself and called Lizzie out on her bullshit. Finally! Lucy, keep it up and don’t let her guilt-trip you into anything, please.

I can’t wait to see where this story goes next—this chapter is definitely one of my favorites! <3

Part 26: Do You Love Me

Summary: Tommy and Lucy meet a man dangerous enough to frighten them both, and Lizzie reaches a breaking point.

Word Count: 6,543

Warnings: Smut, polyamory, chronic pain, references to violence, past torture, and past sexual assault.

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Chapter 2: Selfish

“Lizzie is going to be mad about that for a good long while,” Lucy commented, one hand stuffed into her trousers pocket while the other flicked ash from her cigarette down onto the cobblestones. Her eyes swiveled around, taking in the ash, flames, and glowing embers being emitted into the air by the nearby factories. All around them was the bustle of men and women going about their business, children with dirtied faces and knees marked up with scrapes and soot racing through the streets together. She dropped a few shillings into the cup of a young girl who wandered past them. 

The train station that they were headed to wasn’t particularly far, and it was good for the people to see Tommy out amongst them, walking to work and taking the train like any other ordinary working man. So when they could, they made the trek to the train on foot. 

She didn’t mind. It was nice to get out into the familiar smoky air, settled like a black cloud over most of Birmingham. Despite everything, it still felt like it was where she most belonged. In the dirt and flames of hell. 

Though it did mean that they had to keep a professional distance from each other. No hand holding or letting their sides brush and bump. They couldn’t risk looking suspiciously close. Not even in Tommy’s own kingdom of Small Heath.

“Yeah,” Tommy sighed heavily. “But what else is fucking new?”

She cast him a regretful look. “I’m sorry.”

“What? Why? You didn’t even do anything.”

“It always feels like I’m the root cause of most of her anger towards you.”

“No; you’re not.” She felt him casting her a worried look. “It’s not your fault.”

She didn’t tell him that she didn’t believe that. It would only upset him. And he didn’t need to be worrying about her feelings on top of everything else already on his plate.  

“She’s mad because you tell me things that you don’t tell her.”

“Which isn’t fucking new. That’s always how things have been. If she’s only realizing that now…”

“I think she’s more upset about it being thrown in her face than anything else.”

He shook his head, teeth grinding together. “I’m going to cuff Finn the next time I see him. Jesus Christ.”

“Arthur’s right about him needing educating. The kid can’t keep his mouth shut to save his life.” As she spoke, she rolled her right shoulder back and forth, trying to ease the twinge that had settled in it. Tommy huffed. 

“Yeah. I’ll put him in charge of running the football betting at the shop. Give him something productive to do.”

“Have Isiah keep an eye on him. They’re friends, and he’ll make sure he doesn’t do anything too stupid.”

Tommy nodded. They caught the train just before it left the station, slipping into an empty compartment and closing the door, drawing down the blind that covered the window on the door, hiding them from any curious eyes that may have tried to peek in from the narrow hallway.

“May called earlier. She said that she was at a party that a couple other MPs were attending recently. One of them was asking about you,” Lucy settled into her seat, the train whistling shrilly before starting to move, steadily picking up speed as it pulled out from the station. 

“Oh?”

“Oswald Mosley. He’s the MP for Smethwick. Also the Minister of the Duchy of Lancaster,” she fiddled with her rings, twisting them anxiously around her fingers. “May had…a lot of bad things to say about him.” Another throb of pain rocketed from the bottom of her shoulder blades up to the base of her neck, and she had to fight back a flinch. Fucking Luca. Dead and long gone, and yet still haunting her through the aches and pains that the torture he had put through had left. 

Just like Matthew, her former fiancé and the man who instigated the gang rape that left her nearly dead and fleeing to Small Heath to escape marrying him. He too lingered with her still–despite his deceased status–through the scars he and his friends had left all over her body.

I’m part of you forever, now, his and Luca’s voices, mingled into one, whispered inside her head where they now lived. 

“Lucy?” Tommy’s voice pulled her from her thoughts, his hand lightly touching her arm. She jumped a little, jerking back to life, eyes wide when they met his. “You alright?”

“Y-yeah. Sorry. Just thinking. What did you say?”

His eyes narrowed a fraction, and she was pretty sure that he sensed the slight waver in her voice that she attempted to cover up. But he must have decided not to comment on it if he did. 

“What does Mosley want with me?” He instead repeated patiently. 

“He didn’t exactly say. But May said that he was asking an awful lot about your moral standings on things. She thought that he might’ve been trying to feel out if you would be amiable to joining the new party he’s rumored to be building.”

“The fascists, you mean?”

“Yeah.” They had been sprouting up everywhere it seemed, lately. Germany. Italy. Even in England. It was spooky. “I could do some more research into him, if you think that it would be worth it.”

Tommy considered for a moment, blue eyes glancing out the window to observe the countryside they were whizzing by. “Yes, you do that. He’s gathering information about me, it would only be fair to return the favor.”

She nodded, a hand unconsciously going up to grasp at her still aching shoulder, trying to rub away some of the pain. But she never could seem to get the right angle…

“Are your shoulders bothering you?”

She looked up to find Tommy still watching her, observant eyes zoned in on where her fingers were subtly kneading. With a sigh, she dropped her hand, rolling the aching bone and muscle back and forth with a wince. There was no use trying to lie to him. 

“A little.” 

His head cocked, pushing up with his hands off the seat he was slumped in across from her to instead settle in the space next to her. “Here.”

“Tommy…!” she immediately started to protest, eyes going panickedly to the blinds covering the window of the door leading into their compartment. 

“Don’t worry. No one will see with the blinds closed. And we’re just passing country right now,” he nodded towards the window, which sure enough was only displaying green fields and farmland. “Let me help. If you don’t do anything for them, they’ll be killing you by this evening.”

Spoken from true experience. He’d seen her when the pain got really bad, leaving her unable to sleep or do anything other than cry and writhe, as if trying to get away from the pains wracking through nearly her entire upper back. 

Slumping in defeat, she nodded, turning to angle herself with her back facing him. His large hands found her shoulders, so big they nearly swallowed the entire expanse of each one in his palms–or maybe she was just that tiny. A small sigh of relief left her lips when he began rubbing gentle but firm circles into her skin, just like how the doctor had instructed him to when explaining ways to help reduce her pain. Slowly, he started to urge the tensed up muscles to relax enough to give her some relief. 

“Did you not do your stretches yesterday?” he asked. Lucy shook her head. 

“Forgot.”

She was supposed to do them everyday, to avoid things like this happening so frequently. But in all the chaos yesterday, they’d completely slipped her mind. And sleeping on the hard earth with nothing but Tommy to use as a pillow probably hadn’t helped things.  

“Hm. Sorry; I should’ve reminded you.”

“Not your fault.”

He pressed his fingers a little harder into her skin. “How’s that feeling?”

“Better.”

He hummed, pressing a kiss to her temple. “Just try to relax.”

“Pot meet kettle.”

“You want me to stop?”

“...No.”

He chuckled, the first real laugh she’d heard from him since before yesterday, and rested his cheek against her hair while his hands continued to work. Lucy allowed herself to melt a little under his touch, for a moment not worrying about them getting caught together, or about Lizzie, or Michael, or the company. She was able to just rest. Even if only for a moment. All the while Tommy gently rubbed the pain from her body.

∗ ∗ ∗  

She so did love to watch Tommy speak in the house. 

He stood there, amidst the smoke emitting from cigarettes and pipes, glasses perched on his nose, notes held in his hand, his voice ringing out, deep and rumbling. Pretty, eloquent words. He had them all in the palm of his hand and he knew it, the men seated in the benches around him, and those in the observation area with her all clinging to his every word. And when he was finished, those on his side of the room cheered and rapped their hands approvingly against the wood of their benches, the entire room thundering with the sound. 

Lucy couldn’t help but think that the room looked like a theater. 

Who were they performing for? Themselves? Each other? The people in the observation booths? All of them at once? It was hard to say. 

She spotted him seated to Tommy’s right–her left. In the row below Tommy’s, the third man in from the aisle. His dark hair was slicked back, the mustache that decorated his upper lip meticulously groomed. One side of his lips pulled up at something Tommy said, his eyes gleaming. Lucy felt a shiver go down her spine. Humor may have been what was intended to cross his face, but those eyes of his were dead. No emotion to be found in them at all. They remained focused straight ahead as Tommy spoke, except for one specific, notable moment, when they flickered towards the observational benches where she, along with some secretaries, journalists, and other observers, sat to watch the men speak. Lucy swore that for a second their eyes met, before she hastily looked away from him and back to Tommy. Her skin crawled, the fine, fair hairs on the back of her arms standing up straight. Her very insides seemed to recoil, every instinct within her screaming to get up and run as far away from that man as she could possibly get. 

She kept her eyes glued firmly at Tommy for the reminder of the time spent in the house, despite originally going there specifically to observe Mosley.

She felt that she’d gotten all the information that she needed to about what kind of person he was from just that quick glance alone. 

Soon as they were done, she stood, gathering up her notes, tucking them securely in the crook of her arm and making for the exit where she would meet Tommy out in the hall. 

“How did I do?” he asked, once he found her standing at the usual spot where she always waited for him. Lucy caught herself wishing desperately that she could have pressed a kiss to his cheek.

“Splendid as always, love.”

He looked away, lips twitching up slightly, clearing his throat bashfully. “Come on.”

Lucy smiled a little to herself at the reaction, falling into step beside him, heading in the direction of their office.  

“Did you get what you needed?” he asked, as they walked.

“Sort of.”

His brow raised. “Sort of?” he quoted back to her.

“I don’t like looking at him,” she explained in a lowered voice. “He makes my skin crawl.”

“Mm.” Tommy hummed in agreement. 

“Lord Suckerby’s secretary said you’re welcome to come by anytime between now and the end of the day to see him,” she told him just as they were interrupted by a voice calling his name from one of the open doors they passed.

They stopped, turned, and were met face to face with Oswald Mosley, a barbed smile sliding into place across his features as those empty eyes bored into Tommy. Lucy’s skin roiled in response to his posh, clipped voice when he spoke, introducing himself and holding out a hand for Tommy to shake. His sly smile never once ceased, eyes never leaving Tommy’s as he took his hand and shook it firmly. 

“Let me just say, you’ve come to my attention,” the words were spoken in a croon, with the smallest of head tilts. Lucy couldn’t fully decide if the intended effect was supposed to be predatory, or seductive. 

Before Tommy could reply. Mosley’s eyes had snapped, sharp and quick, like a snake striking, to fix on Lucy. She had to fight back the urge to hide behind her lover’s back. The expression on Mosley’s face turned wolfish. 

“Well, aren’t you a pretty little thing?” She felt Tommy tense beside her at Mosley’s words. “Oswald Mosley,” he extended his hand towards her. Lucy felt ill at the thought of touching him, but forced herself to reach out and take his hand. It was cold as ice and dry as a bone.

“Lucy Winters,” she introduced herself, shaking Mosley’s hand once before letting it go, pushing away the urge to wipe her palm on her trousers. “I’m Mr. Shelby’s assistant.” 

Mosley’s eyes darted between them, one eyebrow quirking upwards, a smirk settling on his lips. “Hm. Lucky you, Mr. Shelby.” 

“If you’ll excuse us, Mr. Mosley, we have to get going.”

“Yes, yes, of course. But if you aren’t too busy, I would love the opportunity to speak with you more. Perhaps over drinks?”

Tommy considered. “You can call my office,” was all he ultimately said, hastily turning on his heel and starting down the hall again. Lucy hurried after him, not wanting to be left alone with Mosley. 

“You’re really going to meet with him?” she asked, once they were far enough away to be out of ear shot. 

“Just to hear what he has to say.” He looked over at her. “Don’t worry, I’m not sympathetic to his cause. But keep your enemies closer, eh?”

“Yeah.” She looked over her shoulder, half expecting Mosley to appear spontaneously behind them. “He scares me a little, Tommy.” Her voice was a rough whisper, half ashamed at the omission. 

“Me too.”

That got her attention, and when she looked at Tommy, she noticed something almost unsteady under the guarded armor he kept carefully in place across his eyes. Fear squeezed at her throat. 

A man who was bad enough to make Tommy so frightened was something she hadn’t even thought existed.

“You head on back to the office,” he said, changing the subject with a small clearing of his throat. “I think I’ll go see Lord Suckerby now.”

“You don’t want me to come with you?” He shook his head. “I think it’ll make a stronger impression if I go see him alone.”

“You think he’ll give you any trouble?”

“Maybe. Depends on how hard he was hit by the crash.”

She frowned. She hadn’t really thought about that. Though she probably should have. “Everyone was hit by the crash.”

“Yeah.”

“If Suckerby can’t pay us…”

“He will. I’m not giving him any other choice.”

She pressed her lips together in a small smile. “I’d like first crack at him, if it comes to it.”

Tommy shot her an amused look. “Oh, is that so?”

“After seeing those photos that he wanted us to get for him, there are a couple of things I’d very much like to do to him.”

During the train ride to London she had flipped through the small package of photographs, letters, and cheques that Isiah had handed off to her while they were in Birmingham. Everything he and Aberama had collected from the man they killed in Chinatown who had been using the contents of that package to blackmail Suckerby. Her stomach had roiled at the contents of some of them, bile rising.

Lord Suckerby was one disgusting man. Maybe after he paid them, an unfortunate accident could befall him. Like falling out a window or getting run over by a bus.  

Based on the thunderous, repulsed look that had crossed Tommy’s features when she showed him the photographs, Lucy thought he may very well be open to the idea. The envelope was now stashed safely in the inner pocket of her suit jacket, snug against her side. It would remain there until Suckerby paid what he owed them for their services.

“Alright,” Tommy said, eyes still dancing with fond, quiet mirth. “He doesn’t corporate, he’s all yours.”

She beamed, only just managing to restrain herself from throwing her arms around his neck, stretching up on toes, and planting a firm kiss to his temple that would have left his fair skin stained with red smudges from her lipstick. “Thank you, Tommy,” she said instead, adding what she hoped came across as a playful, affectionate lilt to her voice. He glanced over at her, one edge of his lips nudging upwards, eyes softening. 

They came to a hallway splitting off into two separate directions. This was where they parted ways. Her, turning left to head to their office, him, heading right, towards where Lord Suckerby’s offices were located. 

“I’ll see you soon?”

He nodded. “This won’t take long.”

“I’ll phone his office when I get in and let them know you’re coming. So they’ll be expecting you.”

“Right.”

“And then you have a few more meetings this afternoon.”

“Mm.” He lowered his voice. “I thought that we’d stay at the apartment for the night, rather than go back to Arrow House.”

“That probably would be a good idea. It’d give Lizzie some time to cool down.”

“Exactly.” 

She nodded, moving to head in the direction leading to their office. “Good luck.”

“Thanks.”

She walked backwards a few paces, fondly watching his broad back disappear around the corner before turning and making her way the rest of the short walk back to the little corner of Parliament that they presided over. 

∗ ∗ ∗

She had not been back in the office long when Tommy returned, heavy footed steps booming against the floor and swiping his fringe from his eyes. 

“How did it go?” Lucy asked, looking up from her desk.

“By the time I left the room, he was screaming my name,” he thumbed a cigarette from his silver case. Lucy raised an eyebrow.

“Is that a euphemism?”

Tommy snorted, plucking out a second cigarette to hand to her. “He only had twenty thousand to give to us.”

“Really?” That wasn’t even half of the fifty thousand pounds they’d agreed upon. She placed her cigarette between her lips and leaned forward towards the flame of his lighter when he held it up for her. “Does that mean I get to play with him now?”

Tommy chuckled, raising the lighter to his own cigarette before closing it with a click. “Easy, girl. I gave him until Monday to get us the full amount.”  

She pouted a little, leaning back into her chair. “You’re going soft, Shelby.”  

“No,” Tommy’s eyes danced amusedly. He reached out, brushing his thumb down her cheek. It was a risky move, since anyone could walk through the door at any moment, but she didn’t pull her face away from the tender touch. “I just want my fifty thousand pounds.”

“Mm. Whatever you say, love.”

His thumb inched into dangerous territory, ghosting over her bottom lip. She aimed a playful nip at it, and he drew his hand back with a grin. 

“Cheeky mare.”

Lucy smiled at him, batting her eyelashes innocently in an ‘I’m-very-sure-I-don’t-know-what-you-mean’ kind of way. Though remnants of his smile lingered on his face and his eyes remained softened fondly, Tommy’s expression turned serious again.  

“Hey, make that research into Mosley top priority, yeah? I wanna be ready when I next see him.”

“Yes, boss.” She gave him a little two finger salute. The corner of his lips kicked up again.

“Thank you.” 

She watched him head through the double doors into his office, leaving them open behind him, a silent invitation for her to come keep him company if she wanted. Gathering up some of her papers, she rose from her chair to follow him. 

It was, after all, an invitation that she never passed up. 

∗ ∗ ∗  

It was dark by the time they started to pack up to leave for the day. Tommy had one final appointment, but Lucy figured she would get a head start on closing the office up while he spoke with the journalist from the London Times. She eyed Michael Levitt as Adam–Tommy’s other secretary at Westminster–led him into Tommy’s office, noting the nervous way that the journalist  kept fidgeting with his hat while he waited. A moment later, Adam came back out, casting an anxious look over his shoulder to where Levitt had taken a seat in front of Tommy’s desk. 

“Mr. Shelby said I was to go home,” he came over to her desk, keeping his voice lowered. She nodded.

“Then go home. I’ll take care of locking everything up.”

“Right.” 

She watched him gather up his things and head for the door, one ear focused on trying to overhear the mumbled voices of Tommy and Levitt. “See you tomorrow,” she told Adam.

“Goodnight,” he nodded. Soon as he was gone, she stood smoothly, snatching up the little journal perched on the corner of her desk and going to Tommy’s office. He had left the doors open, so she was able to slip in without so much as a sound, footsteps muffled against the rugs lining the floor. 

Levitt was visibly sweating, stuttering over his words. Lucy raised an eyebrow, going to where Tommy’s coat was hung up to his right behind his desk. She slipped the journal into the pocket, giving it a tap twice, watching out of the corner of her eye how Tommy’s gaze followed her. He gave a barely indiscernible nod in acknowledgement, and she spun on her heel and left the room, letting her eyes meet the timid Levitt’s for a second before turning her head away. 

She flitted around her and Adam’s office, putting things away and locking them up for safe keeping, even doing some tidying. The whole time, she listened closely to the words being murmured between Tommy and the journalist. At one point, not long before Levitt rushed from the room, she heard Tommy quoting directly from some of the notes she had written in the little journal during her time spent researching Levitt and his activities. 

Soon as he was gone, she locked the door behind him and went back to Tommy’s office. 

“I take it that could have gone better?” she moved to stand on his side of the desk, arms folded over her chest and back leaning against the hard wooden edge. Her head cocked as she watched him rub at his eyes. 

“He was asking about Campbell and Polly.”

“I heard. You want him to be taken care of?”

Tommy wetted his lips, considering. “Yes,” he decided. “Last thing we need is a reporter sniffing around.”

“Yeah. He doesn’t seem like the type that we could just pay off. I’ll have some of our boys handle it at his apartment in Maida Vale. Quick and clean.” 

“Have them do it with enough flourish that it’ll make other journalists nervous. To dissuade anyone else from trying anything for a while.”

“But not easily linked to us, right?”

“Right. And let’s just keep it between you and me. Last thing I need is more temper tantrums over my not sharing information.”

“Okay.”

Tommy leaned back in his chair, reaching out to smooth his hand up and down her thigh. “Thank you.”

“Of course.”

His arms looped around her, and she laughed quietly when he pulled her closer, his head tipping back to stare up at her, blue eyes wide and mischievous. 

“Adam went home?”

“Yes.”

“Hm…so it’s just us, then?”

Her fingers smoothed through his dark hair, fighting back a smirk. “Yes, it’s just us.”

With a purring sound from low in the back of his throat, he took hold of her hips and pulled her closer. 

“Tommy!” She laughed as he maneuvered her into his lap, as if this was not something they had done dozens of times before. As if she had not let him fuck her on top of his big desk the very first day they spent in the new office, her face burying in his shoulder with her teeth sinking into the thick fabric of his suit jacket to try to keep herself quiet while his cock pounded into her. 

He pushed open her suit jacket, popping free the first two buttons on her shirt and dipping his head to press his lips to the newly exposed skin. Wriggling in his lap, Lucy hissed at the feeling of his cock already hardening in his trousers, the material bulging against her. 

Tangling her hands in his hair, she tipped his head back enough to kiss him, moaning softly as his hands smoothed up her thighs, urging her to rock against him and fumbling with her belt. It was late, most people working in the building would have already gone home for the evening. But they still needed to be quiet. 

“Mm, did you lock the door?” Tommy asked in a low, rough murmur that went straight to her cunt, walls fluttering around nothing. The things he could do to her with just his voice alone were downright sinful. 

“Yes.”

He made a noise of approval that turned her legs to jelly. “Good,” he lifted her from his lap for a microsecond to slip her loosened trousers and knickers down, hand burning hot where it slid up her exposed thigh. “Always such a good girl for me.”

“A-ah…” her head lolled back, eyes rolling both at the praise and the first brush of his thick fingers across her entrance, circling lazily around her clit. 

“Gotta keep quiet, now,” he continued to mumble in her ear, breath warm where it fanned against her cheek. “Can you do that for me?”

She nodded vigorously. That was all she wanted; to be good for him. To make him happy. 

Turning his head, Tommy pressed a kiss to her temple and gingerly slipped one finger into her while his thumb occupied itself with rolling over her clit. He kept his movements careful and slow until he got her more warmed up, waiting until slickness coated his hand generously before adding a second finger and increasing the pace of his pumps. 

“There you go,” he hummed when he felt her start to flutter around him. “There you go, that’s a good girl…”

“Tom…” she whimpered, biting her lip to try to keep herself quiet, not wanting to disappoint him by letting any sounds slip out to be heard beyond this room.

“I know,” he soothed. “That’s my girl. Bite down on my shoulder if you need to.”

She did just that, nosing the material of his clothing aside to taste his bare skin between her lips. Tommy groaned, low and quiet but impossibly deep, at the first sting of her teeth against him. Her walls tightened, moments away from bursting. His fingers curled within her, pressing right into the spot that made her see stars.  

“Let go,” he ordered in a sweet whisper aimed directly into her ear, and she bit down hard to try to hinder what would have been an incredibly loud moan as her orgasm wrecked through her like a firecracker, bright lights exploding behind her eyes, entire body shuddering with it, pressing close to him instinctively.  

Tommy guided her through it, slowly coaxing her down from her high until she slumped against him.

“Good. Very good, sweetheart.”

She made a happy little noise at the praise, snuggling closer to his neck, nuzzling at the bitemark she’d left on him. Tommy stroked the back of her head, kissing her hair. Sneakily, she snaked a hand down between their bodies to palm the bulge in his trousers, and it was his turn to try to stifle his noises of pleasure, teeth locking down tight around the groan rising from his throat. 

Arms wrapping around her, he lifted her seemingly effortlessly off of his lap, setting her down on the edge of his desk while he stood, hands dropping down to fumble with his trousers. Lucy felt her mouth water at the sight of his long, impossibly thick erection bobbing against his stomach after being released from its confines. Tommy gave himself a few good, languid strokes, jaw dropping open as his eyelashes fluttered, face inches from hers. Lucy spread her legs wider, encouraging him in between them. Her hands grabbed at handfuls of his suit jacket while he lined himself up, sliding in with one deep thrust. 

“Oh,” Tommy rested his cheek against hers, hands flexing where they landed on her hip and thigh. 

“Quiet, remember?” she teased slightly, trailing her fingertips through his hair. He shivered, letting out a breathless chuckle followed by a kiss to her cheek. Burying his face in her neck, hands bracing on her body, he started to move. She could tell that he was trying to start out slow and give her time to adjust to his considerable size, but all it took was her purposefully squeezing around his cock and wrapping her legs around his waist, and his efforts went up in smoke. 

He bucked into her like a man possessed, low grunts muffled against her throat, a few trinkets rattling on the desk from the force of his thrusts. Lucy tucked her face back in against his shoulder, biting down hard on her bottom lip to try to contain her whimpers and moans as his swollen tip rubbed right up against her g-spot with each roll of his hips. 

“Shit. Squeezing me so tight, love,” Tommy rasped out, hand slipping between their bodies to rub at her clit. “Give me another one, yeah? I know you can, sweetheart.”

“Mm…” Her back arched, pressing her clothed breasts into his chest. Her legs tightened around him, and her jaw clenched with the effort it was taking for her not to let the volume of her noises get too high. His cock twitched and throbbed inside her, in the way that she knew meant his orgasm was imminent. The pleasure built like steam rising in a kettle, tension mounting until she felt moments away from bursting. Her walls spasmed uncontrollably around him, as if wanting to keep him locked in place within her for all eternity. Tommy hitched her thigh up a little higher on his hip, allowing his cock to get just that much deeper into her, and applied more pressure to her clit with his thumb. 

She came at the same moment that she managed to grab his face and bring his mouth crashing down onto hers, each of them swallowing what would have been massive moans as they both came fantastically. Her walls clamped down around him, insides fluttering with the force with which she came. Tommy’s chest vibrated under her palms with his growl as he finished, grinding his tip in as deep as he could go while spurting jets of seed into her. 

Lucy released a blissful sigh, closing her eyes and riding out the waves of her climax while basking in the feeling of him spilling his load into her. 

Tommy slumped forwards against her, face nestling in the crook of her shoulder, lips pressing to her neck delicately whilst he relaxed. His arms wound around her in a warm embrace, a quiet purr leaving his chest when she stroked the back of his head. 

“We should go,” Lucy finally broke the silence that had stretched on between them. Tommy nodded, shifting to carefully pull out of her, tucking himself back into his trousers and straightening out his clothes. He plucked a handkerchief from his pocket for her to use to clean the mix of their releases from her thighs, then let her hold onto his shoulders when she hopped off the edge of the desk and regained her balance. 

“Have you got everything locked up?” he asked as she pulled her slacks back up.

“Yeah, just gotta grab a few things from my desk to take with us.”

“Good. I wanna get out of here.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Tommy Shelby eager to leave work? Is there a special occasion I’m not aware of?”

He rolled his eyes, giving her hip a light pinch. “No occasion.” He swiped a few locks of hair off of her forehead and cradled the back of her neck, a smile tugging on the edges of his lips while his eyes looked her up and down. There was something heated in them that made her thighs squeeze together. “Except that I’m not even close to done with you yet.”

∗ ∗ ∗ 

“You know, Frances, if there were to be a snap election in this house today, I wouldn’t win it. Even if I were running against the devil himself,” Tommy remarked to their housekeeper once they’d gotten home. Frances shot him a sympathetic look. 

“I’d still vote for you,” Lucy offered. Tommy gave her a peck on the cheek.

“Thanks, love.”

He went off to go talk to Charlie where he was sulking in the stables while Lucy ventured upstairs, wandering through the winding hallways until she heard the hum of Lizzie and Ruby’s voices. Coming to a halt in the doorway of Ruby’s room, she watched them where they were seated together in the rocking chair by the window, Ruby in Lizzie’s lap, head resting on her mother’s chest while Lizzie read to her from a book. 

“Hi, Lucy!” Ruby said when she spotted her. Lucy smiled.

“Hey, kiddo.”

“Is Daddy with you?”

“He’s down at the stables.”

She let out an excited squeal, jumping off Lizzie’s lap and racing for the door.

“Ruby, what have I told you about running in the house!?” Lizzie shouted after her, but the little girl was already long gone. Lizzie rolled her eyes fondly, shaking her head and closing the book. As Lucy watched her stand to put it away on a shelf, she noticed Ruby’s suitcase laid out on the bed, half filled with clothes. 

“Going somewhere?”

Lizzie sighed, glancing over at the suitcase, then back at Lucy. “I’m taking Ruby to Arthur’s.”

Lucy stared at her. “Why?”

Lizzie’s lips pulled back from her teeth. “Because, I realized this afternoon that I’d rather swallow horse shit than sit down and eat dinner with you and him.” She began to zip up Ruby’s luggage. “I need to get away. From both of you. At least for a while.”

“You could have phoned and we would’ve stayed at the apartment in London like we did last night if you really don’t want us here this weekend.”

“I don’t know if it’s going to be for just one weekend.”

Lucy straightened. “What do you mean?”

Lizzie didn't reply. 

“You cannot be serious. Now, Lizzie? You want to toy around with the idea of splitting up with your husband now? Of all fucking times?”

“He made me look like an idiot at the family meeting!” Lizzie burst out, head lifting and tears in her eyes. “Everyone else knew about the bloody hit in Chinatown except for me! I am his wife! I should be informed of these things first! Especially before you!” The way that she spat out that last word, so full of hate and disgust, made Lucy flinch.  

“For fuck’s sake, Lizzie! There’s a lot of shit here that you are more than justified in being unhappy about, but this? Really? This is where you draw the line?” A humorless laugh left her lips. “I hate to break it to you, but him not telling you things is a normal occurrence. Ada didn’t know about what was happening in Chinatown either.” 

Lizzie looked away, irritably picking up a stuffed animal off of Ruby’s bed. Lucy took a deep breath, and when she spoke again her voice was much calmer. 

“This is not worth throwing a bloody temper tantrum over, Lizzie.”

“I’m tired of being disrespected,” she lifted her head. “I’m his wife, and he needs to start treating him as such.”

Lucy groaned, raising her palms to her face, fighting back the urge to scream into them. “Just once, could you knock it off with the attitude?”

“Easy for you to say, when you always get everything that you want–”

“Oh, do I, now?” Lucy rounded on her. “You think that this,” she gestured vaguely, “is what I want? To have to share him with a woman who openly hates me?”

“I don’t hate you–”

But Lucy talked right over her. “To have to live with the constant worry that you might push me out or he might change his mind and throw me out on the street? That it could happen like that,” she snapped her fingers. “And I could lose everything? Do you think that I wanted to live with that dangling over my head at all hours of the day, Lizzie?” She met the taller woman’s stormy eyes levelly. “We’re all getting a shit deal out of this, so stop feeling so fucking sorry for yourself, and make the best of it,” she moved to the door. 

“You are so fucking selfish, you know that!?” Lizzie shrieked after her, finally fully exploding. “You sap up all his love for yourself and leave nothing for the rest of us! You don’t care that him spending time with you means he’s not here with his family! Those children,” she pointed towards the window that looked out to the stables, “deserve a father who prioritizes them over running after his fucking mistress.”

“Don’t you dare try to use the kids–”

“Well, somebody in this household has to advocate for them!”

“Don’t act like you aren’t just using them as a way to try to get what you want.”

Lizzie’s lips slammed into a thin line. “I’m going. And I’m taking Ruby with me.”

“But not Charlie?” Lucy challenged. 

“If I thought that I could take him without Tommy tearing me apart over it, I would,” Lizzie’s voice had suddenly grown very quiet. “I’d take the two of them far away from you both and never look back.”

Lucy shook her head, exhausted. “He’s not that bad, Lizzie. Compared to what he could be? He’s not that bad at all. He doesn’t hit you. He loves those kids…” she could see from the expression of stone on Lizzie’s face that none of her words would be able to reach her, and yet she tried anyway. “He’s got so much to deal with right now. Please don’t make it worse for him.”

Lizzie continued to just stare at her with a look of both extreme sorrow and loathing, and then she picked up Ruby’s suitcase and shouldered past her without another word.

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[songtoyou]

Chapter 2: First Meeting

Tolerate It

Paring: Modern!Tommy Shelby x Original Female Character

Story Rating: R (No minors should read this fic).

Word Count: 2,778

Warnings: Mentions of sexual assault. Sexual activity between two consenting adults.

Description: Tommy Shelby is the owner and CEO of Shelby Company Limited. Starting out as a Bookmaker, Tommy had big ideas to expand his riches. In the past ten years, the company has grown rapidly to expand its business ventures from bars to producing alcohol, manufacturing motor vehicle parts, and exporting. One of the richest men in Great Britain, Tommy Shelby, has it all. Unfortunately, the death of his wife, Grace, left the multi-millionaire mogul alone and depressed. He needed someone to fulfill his needs and deepest darkest desires.

A/N: Again, the response to this fic has been wonderful. We learn more about Rose and find out why Lizzie left. Rose meets Tommy for the first time and begins the process of solidifying their arrangement. 

Note: Italics represent the past or past conversations.

Feedback is wonderful. It is nice knowing if people actually like this fic. 

I do not permit my work to be posted on any other site without my permission.

Saturday rolled faster than a blink of an eye. Rose was not nervous about tonight's meeting with her new client. A part of her was looking forward to it. Taking the time to look up Tommy Shelby on the Internet, Rose found out more about the man she would be possibly spending most of her time around. His backstory was interesting. The man started from nothing. It was no wonder Tommy was a massive celebrity within the business community. Inspiring entrepreneurs looked up to him and how he accumulated his wealth.

Rose was aware that Tommy's business practices were not always ethical, just like she knew that Alfie, Luca, and her other clients all dealt in questionable behavior to stay ahead of the game. It was like these guys did not know that the 1920s were long gone, and their little gangs should have considered obsolete in these present times. But it was not her job to question them as part of her did not care. All Rose wanted was to get paid and have a little pleasure herself once in a while. She hoped Tommy was good in bed as Lizzie mentioned he was. She had no reason not to believe her former coworker. 

It was a terrible incident at the club that made Lizzie leave for good. All because of Oswald Mosley and his sick and deviant behavior. Oswald was a Member of Parliament for South Staffordshire and the youngest member of the Conservative party. His influence within the party continued to gain strength as the young politician expressed his outlandish views that tended to lean towards fascism. Many other MPs have tried to rebuke Mosley's power but to no avail. His supporters only rallied behind him more. He was garnering more attention and enthusiasm to start his very own nationalist party within Great Britain. This idea worried many other MPs, even within the Conservative Party.

As Mosley's profile continued to rise, he found himself needing a form of release. It did not take long for him to receive an invitation to join Excelsior. Politicians were another form of clientele for the club. However, word soon spread about Mosley's odd behavior with the girls. The man had a weird fetish for rape and sexual assault fantasies. Not many girls wanted to partake in that act. Rose quickly passed on having Mosley as one of her clients since non-consensual/dubious consent was not something she gravitated towards when it came to pleasure.

Some of the girls confided in Rose they felt after being with Mosley. Many were scared to inform Izabella or Tatiana in fear of getting fired. Unfortunately, it took the incident with Lizzie that left her brutally scarred, both physically and psychologically, to have Mosley permanently banned from Excelsior. What made it worse was that no one could do anything to Mosley outside the club, no police reports, no arrests, nothing. He was too powerful.

The only thing Lizzie said to Rose was that Mosley took it too far and that she was rethinking her time at the club. When Lizzie did not show up for three days, Rose knew that she left the life of escorting for good.

Giving herself one last look in the mirror, Rose opted for the wine-colored long drape dress, with a silver belt to extenuate her hips, and topped it off with silver ankle strap heels. Satisfied with how she looked, Rose grabbed her clutch (silver as well) and walked towards the front door.

"Mom, you are coming home later, right?" asked Louis as he sat in the living room watching television.

"Uh…probably won't be home until late. I'm simply hanging out with the girls. Don't wait up, sweetie," said Rose kissing her son on the top of his head.

"Aren't you a little too dressed up for a girl's night out?"

"Louis, darling, here is some advice about women. We like to look nice now and then. It makes us feel good. So, don't ever question why your mummy is all dolled up, okay. The girls and I are celebrating Ellie's promotion at the firm. That is all. Now, do not stay up too late. See you later, love."

"Bye, mum."

Rose hated lying to her son, but there was no way she would ever reveal the truth to him about how they could afford their lifestyle.

As a teen mom, Rose worked tirelessly from different part-time jobs to get food on the table. She was tired of struggling to make ends meet. Rose wanted more for her son. By Rose's mid-twenties, she bit the bullet and became an exotic dancer. The nerves and humiliation wore off quickly when Rose counted her tips. It was the most she had ever made and all in one night. She had no intentions of ever becoming a high-end call girl. But again, the money proved to be too good to pass up. It also helped the Duchess and Princess give their girls some sense of agency and control over what they do and partake in certain activities. Rose's clients did not seem to understand or realize that she held all of the power. She was not a puppet, nor was she naïve.

Tommy continued to check his watch every fifteen minutes. Rose was not late by any means; it was merely a habit. It gave him something to do since he was not allowed to smoke at The Savoy. He instructed Rose to meet at the hotel's bar and restaurant at precisely 9:00 p.m.

He was not nervous as Tommy Shelby did not get nervous. He wanted to get the night started. The man needed some release.

"Mr. Shelby," spoke the hostess. "I have a Miss Turner here to see you."

"Yes, thank you. Send Miss Turner over, please," ordered Tommy and downed his glass of Irish whiskey in one gulp.

For a second, Tommy thought he forgot how to breathe when he saw Rose walk towards him. He would not deny that she was breathtakingly beautiful.

"Mr. Shelby," she greeted him with a quick kiss on his cheek. Thankfully, no lipstick residue on his face. Men hated when that happened, Rose learned.

"Miss Turner. It is a pleasure to meet you in person finally," said Tommy as he helped Rose into her seat. He could be a gentleman when he wanted to be one.  His Aunt Polly raised him right.

After giving her drink order to the waiter and a refill for Tommy, the two were left alone for the time being. Unsure of where the conversation should start, Rose chose to cut to the chase.

"How do you want tonight to go, exactly? Are we here to talk about, I don't know what you call it, our agreement, our arrangement? Or should we…"

"I say we talk about what we like and don't like," Tommy cut Rose off.

When the waiter brought their drinks, Rose took a sip of her white wine, while Tommy sipped his whiskey.

"My file should have included my interests. What I will and won't do with a man," Rose reminded him.

"Indeed, it did, but a file can only tell me so much. I would rather hear it from you, Miss Turner. So, tell me, what gets you off?" asked Tommy in a low voice as he leaned over the table. Thankfully, the two were at a back corner table with no other patrons around.

Taking another sip of her wine, Rose leaned in as well. "I like being dominated. From your file, you like being the dominant one. I like being tied up, gagged, and made to cum over and over again until I can't take it anymore. Orgasm denial, I like that as well—humiliation or degradation, whatever you want to call it. I don't care for that at all. It has never turned me on."

"What about pain? What is your pain threshold?" Tommy questioned.

"Pretty high."

"So, nipple clamps, whips, floggers…none of that bothers you?"

Rose shook her head 'no' and asked Tommy what kinds of punishment he prefers.

"Spankings with my bare hands and edging. Punishments only occur if I deem you being bratty or don't follow my rules."

Rose nodded, indicating she understood. "Pretty standard forms of punishment for a dominant."

The waiter stopped by again, asking if they wanted another drink or order some food. "I'm okay, thank you," said Rose.

"I liked to order champagne for our room, please," Tommy requested and told the waiter his room number. Rose was not surprised that he was in one of the hotel's suites. On different occasions, she had been to The Savoy Hotel, mostly with her other clients for leisurely visits now and then when they called for her services.

Taking another sip of her drink, Rose started to feel unsure to ask Tommy next. "Is there anything particular that you like or don't like?"

Gulping down his whiskey once again, Tommy stood up from his seat and helped you out of yours.

"Let's head up, and I can show you what I like. You can take your drink with you," mentioned Tommy buttoning up his suit jacket.

Rose gulped down her wine and grabbed her purse. "No need. I'm ready," she said and looped her arm around his. Tommy kept his strides short throughout the walk to the elevator. Rose noticed how the other hotel patrons all seemed to fawn over the man she was with while the employees moved out of his way. Rose found it amusing when in the elevator the people who were already in quickly left, leaving them alone on the ride up to his suit.

"People go out of their way to accommodate you, don't they, Mr. Shelby. Must be nice to have all that power over others," Rose stated admiringly.

Tommy smirked and looked at Rose, "When you come from nothing, you work extra hard to achieve everything, even peoples' fear of you. What about you? Must you find it exhilarating to have powerful men at your fingertips? I would not be shocked that once your clients and I told Tatiana that I have an idea of who they are, well, they are not going to be happy about losing you to me. I have a lot of enemies, Miss Turner, but rest assure that while you are in my company, you will be safe and protected."

The elevator dinged indicated they made it to their destination. Leading the way once again, Tommy steered them down the hall and stopped at the door of his suite. Once he got Rose inside, he took off his suit jacket and opened the doors to the balcony where he could finally get his nicotine fix. He offered one to Rose, but she declined. Tommy watched as Rose looked around the suite. He took this time to look at the woman before him; she would not be deemed the model-type with her 5'7 stature, nor was she skin and bones. Dark brown hair ran past her shoulders, and her skin had a lovely complexion. Tommy took one last drag of his cigarette and stubbed it out on the balcony.

He slowly walked up behind Rose and wrapped his strong arms around, inhaling her scent; he began to grind himself against her backside. Rose promptly reciprocated and matched his rhythm. Trailing kisses down Rose's neck, Tommy moved his hands to squeeze her breasts. He quickly turned her around and began kissing her on the mouth. His dominant side was finally allowed to be released.

When Rose pulled away, it took Tommy by surprise. When he began to pull Rose back towards him, she put her hands on his chest. "I need to freshen up first, is that okay?"

Letting out a sigh, Tommy motioned her towards the bathroom. "I won't be long; I promise," assured Rose. Once in the bathroom, she began to take off her heels and dress. She hung her dress on the door hook, placed her heels to the side, and then looked herself over in the mirror. Smoothing out her hair, Rose dug in her clutch to quickly check her phone. No messages from her son. Now, Rose would be able to focus on the task at hand entirely.

Rose exited the bathroom to see Tommy waiting for her on the couch, no longer wearing his tie and vest, shirt partly unbuttoned. She walked towards him, where he indicated he wanted Rose on her knees. Spreading his legs, Rose kneeled and began unzipping his pants, reaching for his hardened member and gave it a few strokes. She looked up to see Tommy stretch and lay his head back against the couch, indicated he was comfortable and was ready for Rose to begin. Rose licked her lips and opened her mouth to take him in as much as far as possible. Rose did not stop until she felt him at the back of her throat.

Rose pulled away for a second to lick off the precum of Tommy's dick before proceeding to lick the entire length. She went back to sucking once Tommy put his hand in her hair. He bobbed her head back and forth at a fast pace. Tommy felt like he was about to explode his load in Rose's mouth he backed off. Rose took the time to catch her breath. She watched as Tommy took off his shirt and got up from the couch.

"Up," he ordered, and Rose followed obediently.

She never took her eyes off Tommy while he walked to the bedroom.

"Take this off," Tommy ordered, indicating he wanted her bra off.

Once again, Rose followed his orders. She tossed the bra to the side, and Tommy walked closer to her. He reached for her breast and began to squeeze them, tugging on her nipples. When he started to pull her nipples extra hard, Rose let out a little squeak.

"Too hard?" Tommy asked and released his tight grip.

"No. I mean, it hurts, but it feels good too," Rose answered truthfully.

Tommy once again started pulling on her nipples as hard as he could without hurting Rose too much. He pressed his lips against hers. Rose quickly reciprocated the action and ran her hands through his hair. Backing Rose towards the bed, he lightly pushed her, where she softly plopped down. Tugging her underwear down, Tommy tossed them to the side and ran a finger up-and-down her folds.

"Wet, as I expected. Let me see how many fingers you can take, shall we," amused Tommy and slipped, not one, but two fingers inside Rose. He soon began pumping his fingers in and out.

He kept going while Rose emitted more moans from her mouth. She was panting and getting closer to needing release. But she knew a sweet release would not come easy. No, Tommy was going to have Rose work for it. She was about the beg to cum when Tommy pulled his fingers out of her cunt.

Tracing his thumb against her clit, Rose let out a squeal at the new feeling. Tommy smirked. That feeling of control, control over this woman's body, it's what made Tommy feel at ease. It allowed for his head to feel clear. Tommy did not have to worry about business deals or rival gangs; instead, his focus was all on the woman before him writhing in pleasure.

Inserting his fingers back in her cunt, Tommy added a third finger this time. Rose sat up on her elbows to watch Tommy. She saw the looked of deep concentration on his face. When he reached that spot, Rose jerked up, and Tommy used his free hand to push her back down on the bed.

"I'm going to cum. I need to cum," Rose panted out, but Tommy kept going.

"Not yet," he merely said. "You do not cum until I say you can, understood." It was an order, not a question.

"Yes…yes sir," Rose managed to say. She did not know how long she would last.

"Cum!" Tommy commanded and Rose more than happily followed it.

Pure bliss is all Rose felt until Tommy pried her mouth open with the fingers that were in her.

"Lick them clean for me, love. Taste yourself."

When she licked his fingers clean, Tommy took off his pants and underwear. He crawled on top of Rose and began kissing her stomach, each breast, her neck, and finally lips.

"You're not tired out yet, are you love?" he asked her.

When Rose shook her head no, Tommy leaned in to whisper in her ear, "Good. It is going to be a long night for you."

[craziigamerchick]

My Prediction: Grace is Alive

Unpopular opinion here I know. I know SK said she was dead and she may very well be but till I see REAL ghost Grace, her funeral, or a flashback to her dead body then nope I won’t believe it.

I didn’t actually believe she was alive till after the 5th season. But down below I’ll list the signs I’ve seen throughout the show that I think point to her not really being dead.

Grace is all over season 5 but the signs I’ve seen that point to her not being dead are in episode 4 and 5.

For starters the swans represent Grace this season as told in an article from Den of Geek.  Which is a big theme for episode 4.

So episode 4 is called The Loop and there are quite of bit of things that are repeating in this episode from previous seasons. Actually I’d say this whole season feels like a loop. But anyways for the Grace clues...

We have only 2 scenes this season in the Garrison snug which are both in this episode back to back. This is also where the swans are present. So we are to be thinking of Grace during these scenes. 

The first scene is with Mrs.Conners, she is there because her 3 songbirds (goldfinch’s) were killed by her husband. Now I believe the songbird represents Grace along with the swan. As she’s already been linked to the blackbird in s3 and s4 which is also a songbird. Plus one definition of songbird is: a female singer, which she is. When Mrs.Conner says “their singing was the only pretty thing in my life” it focuses on Tommy and the swans to the side of him. I’m sure he thinks the same of Grace and her singing. 

Now I also think songbirds represent the Shelby’s in general or at least Goldfinch’s do. Mosley talks of Tommy being a songbird and his singing beautifully in the house and in that same scene he calls Ada a finch. Then when Tommy tells Mrs.Conner Arthur will go get her 3 new Goldfinch’s she says she’ll name them Tommy, Arthur, and Finn. So that’s all 4 siblings being linked to a finch.

Mrs.Conner leaves and here comes Brilliant Chang. Now don’t forget this happens in the room with the swans that represent Grace.

Shows Chang sitting down right where the swan is unlike Mrs.Conners. We really didn’t see the swan behind her because it wasn’t important. But I believe we saw Chang sit right where the swan was because we are to link him specifically to Grace. Just check out this dialogue:

Chang: My name is Brilliant Chang

Arthur: Brilliant Chang is dead

Chang: Perhaps. Sometimes, I wonder... Is this heaven? Doesn’t smell like heaven. So I would say I have survived.

Now that might not seem like a big deal but the real Brilliant Chang got deported in 1924 and was never thought to be dead (the year here is 1929). So they essentially just made this scenario up for the show and they decide to do it in the room that has Grace motif’s all over it. Yeah...

After Arthur thinks Finn has been shot by Chang’s accomplice he pulls a gun on him. Watch Chang stare down Arthur, it’s exactly like Grace’s with Kimber and IRA man she shot. 

After this Chang puts the “purest” opium on the table. Pure truth he calls it. Which the opium also represents Grace, as you know that’s what Tommy drinks to hallucinate her and quite literally later as she takes the opium’s place on the barge in Tommy’s hallucination.

When Chang gives the Opium to Tommy as a gift, Tommy’s line is “I’ll throw it in the canal” which is just like his line to Grace in 1.06 “One day we’ll throw this gun in the canal”.

So now we have 4 things that represent Grace. The songbird, Swans, Chang, and Opium. Those will be important later.

The Next big scene we have is when Tommy hallucinates Grace in his office after Mosley leaves and she’s blaming him for her death. He can’t even look at her in this scene. It goes straight from this scene to him standing on bridge looking down, He see’s the January with Grace half covered in the coals (she’s in the spot the opium would be).

He runs to Ada to tell her about his vision (hallucination) of Grace even though it’s 2 AM. He tells Ada “Grace was there. But she was still alive. The name of the barge was the January”. Now this sticks out to me because he says she was still alive. It made no sense to me while this is the hallucination he says this about. He’s been talking to her and seeing her in other places but doesn’t say anything like that. He knows she’s not real so what gives. Then I read in the article above they originally had a swan that swimming in front of the barge but decided to cut it. So this scene was supposed to be the one you linked the swan imagery to Grace but since they cut it most people won’t know that the swan represents her through this series. 

So here we have a swan in front of the barge that has Grace on it in place of the opium which Chang called “pure truth” and Tommy saying she was alive. Also, she’s not on just any barge but the January which is the boat Tommy had his healing journey on in s2. Hmm...He even says at one point to Ada “there is a part me that is unfamiliar to myself and I keep finding myself there and only the January can get me away”...Is that the shows way of saying that Grace being alive would help heal him like the January did in s2?

Now I agree with Ada that the black barge signals guilt for him too especially with Grace inside it. Even though he won’t admit it to anyone, we all know he feels guilty about her death. 

Now about the Swan Lake Ballet. Polly tells Michael that Tommy want to impress someone which is Mosley this time but who is the other person he was constantly trying to impress. It’s the shows way of reminding you of her without saying her name.

When we get to the Lizzie’s party the first scene is with Michael and Gina Grey (Tommy and Grace lite lol). Tommy and Grace’s Secret Portrait are featured in most of this scene. They even focus on it at the end of their scene. Maybe the horse was named Grace’s Secret because her secret is she’s alive. The paintings are supposed to have a storyline of their own but we’ve never actually seen it. That portrait is the portrait we’ve seen every season (or a version of it) so it’s important. SK already had the series mapped out by s2 just hadn’t written it yet so it wouldn’t surprise me.

Now another thing that caught my attention, when Gina is telling Michael he’ll be replacing Tommy and he asks where Tommy will be she replies “where he wants to go to most”. We all think of that as death but let’s be honest, it’s with Grace. That’s what tips him over the edge every time to actually try to commit suicide (to be with her). So if she’s dead that’s where but if she’s not then it’s wherever she is.

On to another scene, in the scene between Mosley and Tommy having a brandy before the play we see pictures on the table with the liquor. There’s quite a few on there but Grace’s is the lightest one on the table and the one our eyes are drawn to. It’s a way to remind us of her again and look it’s her undercover picture. 

Now we have the Swan Lake ballet. @korinthya has an exceptional analysis on this and what it means for the Peaky universe. So I’d go check it out if you’re interested. 

We only see the swan dancing and not much of the story but as she’s dancing, Linda rolls up in her car and when she gets out she’s wearing a dress with songbirds on it!

She gets shot the exact same time as the Swan does. It looks like both Linda and the swan are dead (just Like Grace) but at the last second it makes a point to show the swan open her eyes. No need to do that unless it was important to the narrative because there is no other scene connected to that shot. Also, normally the swan dies by drowning not getting shot, so they changed that specifically to mirror Grace.

Once the next episode starts (ep5) we see that Linda has not died (the songbird lives). She was just shot in the arm, the same side as Grace (which is funny because Aberama and Finn were shot in the almost exact same spots this season and lived too). Now this scene could be a retelling of what sort of happened with Grace, not exact of course. Think about it, this whole season has been a loop of events. Working with the Chinese, the white flag truce, the bartender is a spy, there is a singer in the bar, Tommy shooting a horse, him doing his arm gesture in 5x01 like he did 3x01 with the no f’ fighting scene, ect. There’s so much more if you look. 

So lets look at the key things from this scene with Linda and see what could have happened after Grace got shot.. Tommy is pulling Arthur away and telling him to go outside till it’s done (Linda getting the bullet out), which if you remember in 4x01 he told Polly to let the nurses and doctors do their job too. So it’s not out of the realm of impossibility that he let the doctors work on Grace and him not be in the room (she was still moving by the end of 3x02 so I don’t doubt she was alive when an ambulance got there).  Tommy also says the bullet is still in there, it’s above the bone which could also be what happened to Grace. Don’t forget it looks like she got shot right on her collarbone not under it. This is part is important and can be a big clue as to how someone could pass her off as dead, Tommy sends Arthur out to get some Opium for Linda but Polly has some of her own and so Tommy gives it to Linda while Arthur is still out of the room. She passes out and then Arthur comes in the room and thinks she’s dead. He doesn’t even realize she’s alive until Tommy tells him that she’s ok and he gave her something to knock her out. 

That could easily be what happened to Grace. Tommy might have let the doctors do their work, someone slipped her something (maybe section D, they did say they can get to anyone anywhere and they were there at the party) and when Tommy came back in it looked like she was dead. He might not have been able to handle looking at her like that and left. Remember in his hallucination in his office where she is holding the stone, bleeding and accusing him of her death he can’t look at her once. It might have been the same way in the hospital. 

We also have another loop in this scene. Arthur is saying that Polly should have let him take the bullet (the original bullet was meant for Arthur but Polly stepped in and saved him) and it’s a repeat of the original bullet that Grace took was meant for Tommy. So the brothers were supposed to take a bullet but nope the wife ended up getting it. It doesn’t stop there during this scene either. We have another loop. Polly tells Arthur, Aberama wants him as his best man at their wedding just like Tommy wanted him as his best man at his wedding in 3x01.

Seriously just watch this season over and see how many loops there are. There is so many it’s unreal.

In the next scene with Linda and Arthur, she leaves him. which is essentially what Grace did with Tommy (voluntary or not it happened). 

Then there is Ben Younger which is also some of a loop. He’s a British intelligence officer like Grace was.  He’s having threats made to him by Section D because of Tommy (don’t forget they threatened Tommy’s family). He even brings up Section D’s history with Tommy. Tommy tells Ada “he pushed him to report on the Fascists” which is a loop of him telling the Gypsy lady “he pushed some people to far” (about the Italians). Saying he is guilty of both their death’s. He tells Ada that Section D or the intelligence branch had him killed (the loop here is that is who could have took Grace). Then some other things that connect younger to Grace also, Tommy said his death would go down as “an IRA assassination of a British Military Officer” which is what happened to Grace’s father. Then we see neither Grace’s or Ben’s dead bodies or funerals. Plenty of loops here. I do think Ben is dead though. The loop with Grace for him is the connections to section D and maybe the excuse to as how she died. I bet they didn’t say she was shot by an Italian in revenge. The ladies at the institute know of her death and aren’t afraid of Tommy so I bet they had a good cover.

Back to Chang, in his next scene we have talk of the police, Irish, and Opium. Which can be associated with Grace. He also talks about the Uncles being mad. That is the part that caught my attention. It was just a quick one liner that didn’t make much sense but remember the only family member we seen of Grace is her uncle and he was not happy about the marriage. 

Arthur then says “F’ your uncles. And your aunts, your cousins, all of them Right?” which reminds me of Tatiana’s line in s3 “Brothers gave sisters, aunts gave uncles, fathers gave daughter and servants”. The deliveries were identical. So another loop.

Now I Think that’s most of the symbolism in S5. 

Before I end this post I want to talk about SK saying Grace is dead. He’s probably not lying but it doesn’t have to mean dead like we think. Look at both Alfie in season 5 and Polly in s4, both say they died (when they had an attempt on their life) but are actually still alive. I mean even Aberama calls Polly a ghost in their kissing scene in s4. So I could see the same thing happening to Grace. She is dead like them but also still alive. 

I mean isn’t that Tommy’s thing? He died in the war but he’s still here. Aren’t him and Grace the same but also mirrors? So who she was when she shot could very well be dead and a different Grace (maybe even different name if undercover) emerged and SK could still say she’s dead because hey guess what in context of the show she is, just like Polly, Alfie, Tommy, Danny Whizzbang(was), Chang, and Arthur (his fake out in s4).

If she does come back I don’t see it happening until maybe 11 years have passed. 11 seems to be the special number between Tommy and her. When Tommy has his soldiers minute in s1 the time on the watch is 11. Then before they sleep together in s2 Grace tells Tommy “it’s too late” and he says “Grace it’s 11:00″ and her replay is no “no I mean it’s too late”. So it’s not about time at all. I could see her coming back 11 years later and her telling Tommy it’s too late. 

Now while I don’t think she is dead (final) after watching season 5 and going back through the seasons if I ever do see real ghostGrace I will hang up that theory. But the more I pay attention the more I see that something is amiss.

Ok, I’m done now. I may do a post about s3 and s4 and the signs there but this post is long enough as it is.

[deadendtracks]

The property scene??

When he says, "no one touches my property", it seems also about the ongoing apprehension he has for the loss of his throne (I believe he feels that his family only values him for his throne and also he earned it).

But why did he start the conversation with "you belong to me" as Mosley was not in picture at that time, and it's not like Lizzie's reason of leaving had any tint of infidelity...was it because he felt a need to mark everything as his earned? Or he had a slight fear of her leaving as someone trusted would betray him? Or something else?

I talked a little bit about that general idea (not necessarily the loss of his throne, but feeling out of control of everything in his life) in my recent response to an ask about the "when you marry a Shelby you stay married" line.

Apologies, this got really rambling and long.

When I was thinking about how to respond in a way that might say something new I realized I couldn't remember the wider context of the episode and wanted to get a better understanding of it. Too often we discuss scenes like this in a vacuum (myself included), so here's everything that leads up to it -- and note all of this happens in one day:

The episode starts off with the confrontation at the orphanage. I've always found this scene interesting because it isn't ever referred to again and doesn't have an obvious connection to anything else. I have ideas about that, but they're for another post.

Next is the scene where there is tension between Tommy and Polly and Michael over Michael's losing the family fortune. Tommy asks Polly to go placate Aberama in the hospital and orders Michael to come with him to London.

Tommy brings Michael and Arthur to his meeting with Mosley -- which is very, very weird, especially when you remember he brought his sister to their first meeting. It shows how nervous he is about being in a room alone with Mosley. Both Michael and Arthur pick up on it even before Mosley arrives. Mosley sees right through his strategy, performs some fairly obvious dominance displays (watch what he does with his cigarette) toys with them all, implies Linda is sleeping with another man to enrage Arthur, and gives Tommy an invitation to join his fascist party.

Tommy, Michael and Arthur meet with Ben Younger. Tommy continues his earlier poking at Michael, who suggests he see a psychiatrist to dig out all the shit in his head. I've posted before about how desperately Tommy wants Younger's help with Mosley, though in typical Tommy fashion it's hard to tell unless you're paying attention.

Tommy returns home to find Johnny Dogs fucking a maid, and then Johnny tells him that Polly has helped Aberama leave the hospital to pursue his vengeance on the Billy Boys, exactly the opposite of what Tommy asked her to do. This of course upsets his plan to use the Billy Boys against Mosley, which Mosley had already called him out on.

Tommy meets Jessie Eden at the Garrison. By time she arrives he's obviously drunk, which is pretty unusual for Tommy. She pushes him on speaking at a Communist rally, which he can't do because (and this is mostly implied though it's pretty clear) he's already decided to inform on Mosley, which requires him to join the fascists. He makes his drunk little speech about champagne bubbles and pulling yourself up by your bootstraps. There's a lot going on internally there, but he's fucked up enough that Jessie Eden asks if he's okay. He reacts by clumsily propositioning her --which I think was more about driving her away than actual interest -- and then hallucinating Grace after she leaves.

It's only *then* that he goes home (again), and shows up still drunk to find Lizzie waiting for him. He says Frances told him she'd made a phone call (and I think it's implied he knows what it was about) and then Lizzie tells him about calling the solicitor in London to divorce him, but changing her mind.

So not only has he had about 45 stressful meetings that day, but he's driven back and forth to London and Birmingham. It's a completely bonkers schedule when you look at it. And if you look at the context of those meetings, you start to see a pattern: No one will do what he's asked them to do. Echoes of him yelling about how no one listens to him.

Polly defies his request for her to make sure Aberama doesn't fly off the handle, Arthur loses his shit about Linda in front of Mosley, Michael calls him paranoid and crazy in front of Ben Younger, Johnny Dogs is fucking one of his maids in his library. All of this in the context of a day started with a meeting about children being abused where he reacts very uncharacteristically (as if triggered by it) and a meeting with Mosley where he's clearly freaking the fuck out. Then Jessie Eden has the audacity to ask if he's okay, and he comes home to (presumably) learn from Frances that Lizzie had called a solicitor in order to leave him.

I'm not suggesting all of his behavior in this episode is justified, just setting the scene. Because I think a lot of people interpret the "my property" line as being purely about Tommy being possessive of Lizzie in a more straightforward "jealous lover" way. But as you've pointed out, we've never seen a hint of Lizzie being interested in someone else, and Mosley has yet to tell Tommy about knowing her. Not that this is required for someone to be controllingly jealous, of course. But in this case I do think the context is important to understanding it.

The line is said in response to her talking about his infidelities (and there's a whole other meta about that, because there really isn't much evidence he is fucking anyone else in s5 and I think it's entirely possible Lizzie thought it was him fucking the maids when it was Johnny). Then she asks him to let her into his head.

His response to this is interesting as well, in the context of the episode. He agrees, and echoing Michael's language, says "To clear it out, that what needs clearing out." Which suggests everything that happened earlier in the episode is present in this scene.

The other thing is that he doesn't only say that she's his property, he goes on to say that everything is mine. Not just Lizzie, everything. And again this is fairly uncharacteristic of him.

To me, this is very much about a guy who sees his life and all of his plans spiraling out of control -- who has no control over anyone at all ("there's a general lack of discipline in this fucking company" as he tells Polly in s3). Polly has seemingly betrayed him -- siding with Michael, who lost the company fortune, then helping Aberama spoil Tommy's plans for the Billy Boys. He thinks Michael is after his "throne." He can't count on Arthur not to fly off the handle when he's supposed to be acting as intimidation towards Mosley. Implied in all of this (and I think it comes out later when he talks about marrying a Shelby) is that Linda too has betrayed him by leaving Arthur -- therefore leaving Tommy to deal with Arthur, leaving Arthur destabilized. @holyfoal has talked about this point I think.

It's also important that Lizzie explicitly mentions that one of the factors in her decision to stay was their sexual relationship. "I touch myself but it's you... this, always."

Oh a last point is that hallucination of Grace talking about breaking his heart -- you could definitely look at what he says to Lizzie as being about fear of losing her like he lost Grace, as well.

Oof. Sorry. This is way too unfocused and lacking in any actual conclusions. There's definitely something here that I'm not quite getting at underneath everything going on in this episode, and I have ideas about it but need to think it through more.

[liquid-reign]

Together We Bleed

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Thomas Shelby x Arabella Roslyn Asheton (OC)

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Warnings: Mentions of rough sex, mentions of drugs, hallucinations

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I again the stole the title from a song. It's a phrase from Ghost - WILDES

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A/N:- I'm not a writer. I just write when a particular scenario wouldn't leave my mind so the writing might not be very smooth or what is expected. The scenarios just have to be written, and that is why this exists.

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Word Count- 2.1k according to Microsoft Word

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She had a hundred questions in her mind. A hundred things she wanted to tell Ada but she waited. Till she came back from the kitchen, bringing them tea.

"So, what brings you here, Roslyn?"

Roslyn hesitated for a while, not being able to think how to put it forward. She was not used to this, having other women to talk to.

"Did- does Tommy come here often? Has he recently?"

"Actually he doesn't now as much as he used to."

Roslyn waited for her to continue, but she didn't.

"Have you seen him, in recent days?"

"Yes. I went to parliament with him to meet Mosley.", she shifted in her seat leaning a bit forward, "What is it?"

"If he took you to meet Mosley, then I think you already know what's wrong."

Ada decided she'd tell her, though she had promised herself that she won't tell anybody but the woman sitting in front of her was her brother's wife, not an outsider. "After we met him, he talked about someone taking his throne or something. Wanted me to make some calls"

Roslyn knew something was wrong and the worry for Thomas scared her. She wanted to tell Ada everything.

She became present in the room when Ada reached forward, laid a soft hand on her knee.

Roslyn couldn't keep sitting anymore so she stood up, her tea going cold. She suddenly craved cigarettes but refrained due to Ada carrying a baby.

She crossed the room to stand by the window for some fresh air, she felt suffocated.

"He isn't alright, Ada. There's something terribly wrong.", she took in a deep sharp breathe. Deciding to tell her. "He's consuming laudanum like one consumes water on an everyday basis. I know he hallucinates. G-", she choked on her next word, hardly able to say it. So she cleared her throat once, and tried again, "I think it's Grace"

She noticed Ada freeze and go still for a moment.

"Hardly ever sleeps, Ada. He's sinking, I can see it.", her knees wanted to give up as she felt her body going numb. Kept herself standing by leaning against the wall beside the window. "I can't let him.”

"Well, I booked him an appointment with a doctor but he won't go"

Both of them knew that Thomas Shelby wasn't one to go to doctors.

Suddenly, Roslyn picked her things up and walked towards the door.

"You can stay", Ada started, "I know how he can be"

She didn't turn too look at her sister-in-law, though she was tempted to take up the offer.

"I want to be there for him, Ada. Goodnight", and she left.

Tommy wasn't home for the rest of the night. It was a norm now but she didn't want to accept it now. She knew Tommy wasn't alright and just wanted him home. So she went to her office and phoned his offices. No one picked up. She didn't sleep for the rest of the night.

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Tommy didn't come home for another two nights. Roslyn had tried to meet him at his London apartment, but no one answered the door. She had called his office and Lizzie had answered, though, telling her that he was in a meeting.

She took her clue. Knew he didn't want to be reached just yet. So she had waited for those two nights.

He did come home on the third night.

Roslyn was working in her study after putting Charlie to sleep when he walked in through the door and stood on the other side of the desk, both hands on the table, "Where did you keep it?"

She didn't look up from her work, "Keep what?"

He stood straight now, hands in the pockets of his coat, where no one could see them shivering. From rage? From the lack of sleep? From the lack of laudanum?

"Arabella?"

No. She won't let him play the first name card here.

"Threw it all away.", looking up at her husband now, sitting back in the chair.

She could see how tired he was. The features on his face gave it all away though he kept it expressionless. How much he wanted his little bottles of dope. To be with Grace? For comfort? For what? His eyes, though, were filled with a certain type of rage. She had seen this before, this rage. It showed when he didn't get the things he badly wanted.

He was clearly irritated, slowly nodded and fled the room. Roslyn knew he'd leave the house again. So she ran behind him to catch him before he reaches the main door.

"Tommy!" she yelled, "Thomas!" walking as fast as she could. Running when he was almost at the door, catching him from his arm just in time.

He freed his arm with force but didn't move towards the door, just stood there.

"Don't leave", she softly said, and moved towards him with slow calculated steps, as if one moves to calm a scared horse. His face gave away expressions that were a mix of being angry and tired. He didn't move. She reached him and hugged him lightly first. Taking a risk. Experimenting. When he didn't move away, she held him tighter. Embracing him as wholly and as tight as she could. She ran a hand through his hair, "Don't leave, Tommy. You don't need it. Okay? You don't need it.", she whispered in his ear. He was so still, she felt chills run down her spine. Buried her face in the crook of his neck, on the verge of tears, she "It's alright. It'll be alright.", she parted to take a look at his face, "Let's go to bed?", one arm around his neck, one hand on his cheek.

He finally moved. Took her by the hand, held tight with a lot of force, and took her upstairs to their shared bedroom, in a hurry that surprised her. But relieved at the fact that he wasn't leaving yet.

He shoved her into the bedroom and closed the door behind him. She almost stumbled by the force he did that, wrist starting to pain because of the strength it was held with.

Walking towards her, he let go of his coat and jacket. He wasn't wearing a cap today, it seemed. He crushed her lips with his. Hard, angry, forceful. A kiss that could leave bruises on both their lips. Like it was a war for him. His grip tight on her waist. He was using too much strength. Clearly agitated and in rage. She accepted the fact that whatever he did tonight would end up in bruises or cuts, but she decided she'd reply in less resistance. If this was how she could keep him away from consuming laudanum, then it was almost a negligible price to pay. She didn't want to be harsh with him tonight, she gave in.

His hands crushed her wherever they touched her.

The rage, the need reflected in how rough and urgent, but deep, his moves were. Paused and continued in his own accord. Depriving her of the freedom to let go again and again.

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After riding out his high he loosened his grip on her gently, kissing her jaw and cheeks, nuzzling into her neck. He held on to her for sometime, kissing her now limp shoulders. He let her fall into the bed. Tommy crashed beside her.

She just lay there. In the position that the bed caught her in. Face away from Tommy, resting on her front. The tears had stopped but she felt weak. Her body felt liquid.

He stared at the ceiling for some time before the realisation, that his wife lay there as it is, dawned on him. Hated himself for being like that to her. Why had he? So his eyes shifted to her. Thankfully, she was beginning to move.

She lay there for a few minutes, not able to move as the bruises started making their presence evident. Reluctantly, she pulled herself up, to lay on her back. Now lying on her side, facing her husband who had just had with her the most rough consensual sex of her lifetime yet and found him staring at her.

His face was blank, but at least it didn't bear the anger and hurt it had sometime ago.

Tommy's right hand reached out to brush away the remainder of the tears from her cheek. A heavy air lingered between them, which none of them dared to break.

She moved closer to him and he welcomed her onto his arm. They lay there like that for sometime, before he spoke and woke her up from the almost slumber, "Why, Arabella?"

She hummed, shifted a little to look up at him, "Do you want to sleep?"

Before he could react, she sat up, her back resting against the back of the bed. "Come on", she whispered, patting her thighs.

He had protested the first time she had offered that to him some months ago. But, this time, he took the offer almost immediately.

One arm wrapped around her thighs, his breathing slowed into a relaxed rhythm. She ran a hand through his dark and soft hair and the other held his free hand. He clutched her hand tightly, entwining their fingers together.

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The feeling of chilled, fresh cold air where his warmth had been, woke her up. A glimpse of him leaving the bedroom, dressed in his undershirt, pants and suspenders. She checked for the time. She had had an hour of sleep, then. It was almost dawn. Had Tommy slept at all?

She dreaded the thought of leaving him alone at this point so she left the room looking for him wearing only his overcoat, not wanting to waste time finding dresses. She didn't find him in the library. She wanted to search the entire house for him but it was a time waste right now. Everything was urgent, she didn't know why. He wouldn't be in the stables, she knew that. He didn't spend much time in there since Dangerous. So, she decided to look in her study, and in Charlie's room, which was on the way.

There he was. Sitting in her chair in her study, smoking.

The fire and lights weren't lit. The faint glow of the oncoming dawn lighting the room just enough to make out figures. The orange tip of his cigarette casting a heavenly glow on his face. His beauty never ceased to amaze her.

Tommy let her take the cigarette from his mouth and place herself on him. Her legs on either side of him. It was visible now, she just had his overcoat on. He couldn't bring himself to look at her face for reasons known to him.

He refused to look at her. She held his chin and guided his face upwards and kissed him before pressing her forehead to his.

"Did you sleep?", she whispered

His hands moved to hold her by the waist.

She parted to look at him, his eyes on her now. "Come back to bed, eh?" Tears were threatening to roll out of her eyes but she couldn't do that. Couldn't be weak. She hugged him, wrapping herself around him "Please", and kissed is neck.

Tommy hugged her back, tighter than she hoped he would. "I can't, Arabella"

"Tommy, look at me", she whispered.

He was staring at her like a lost puppy stares at someone who finds him.

"It's just in your head. The hallucinations. The suffering. Don't let it cloud anything."

She reached for his hands and held them together, "We can handle this, okay? I'm right here and we'll handle everything. Mosley, Billy Boys, Michael. Everything"

"You know"

Maybe if he'd be a bit specific, she thought.

"Know what?"

"She's so real"

Her mind and body froze.

"She's-", he hid his face in her chest, Wanted to melt in her warmth.

No words came out of her mouth. She was choking on her own words, knowing that everything she'll say will go in vain in that moment. So she held him. Running her fingers in his hair to calm him down.

It was absolute silence till she spoke again, as softly as she could, "Give up the opium. Please." He held her tighter. "Please, Tom"

She was almost sure that the little dampness she felt on her bare chest was her husband's tears. It broke her heart but she stayed there to let him cry. At least he showed some emotion and leaving him alone was not what she was going to do.

"It keeps me warm"

Silence

"Let me keep you warm", she whispered in his ear, kissing the spot just behind it.

Surprisingly, his grip on her loosened and he looked directly at her now. Present in the moment.

She pressed her forehead to his, cradling his face in her hands, "I'll keep you warm, Tom. I will. I promise" a tear finally escaped her eyes. It broke her seeing the man she loved in this condition.

"Just come back to bed for now. Please" merely a whisper.

Roslyn stood back up and extended a hand towards him, which he took after some hesitation.

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I have no idea how to end this. I'll write one if it ever strikes my mind.