#tom shelby fanfic

[ninja-potato-shelby-solomons]

#dirty minds worldwide

[kat-mobile]

Hey love ❤️ hope you’re doing good

Can I request Tommy with a gentle, empathetic and sensitive reader please. It was an arranged marriage and he found out his new wife would cry herself to sleep over a book she read or just a cat. His reaction to someone who is completely opposite of him

Thank you in advance ✨

Tommy with a wife who's his complete opposite

A/N: Hey baby, thanks for the request!! I'm doing good and I hope you are too ❤️ I forgot to put on the requests post to specify if you want it as a fic or headcanons so I've made it sort of a mix of the two, hope that's okay anon. I made this blog to try and improve my writing skills and as this is my first attempt it isn't the best, so sorry about that lol. Hope you like it!! (this is set sometime around series 1-2 cause those are my fave)

It was an arranged marriage and to be honest... you weren't particularly thrilled by the notion of being married to Birmingham's most known and feared gangster. But you would do anything for your family and if your father decided that this is what would be best for securing the future of the family then you'd follow through on your part of the deal, even if it seemed like you and Tommy had absolutely nothing in common.

This was a couple months ago now and you had somewhat settled into your new life in Small Heath and with Tommy by your side, the two of you living in comfortable tandem. You had settled into a routine and life was good, or as good as it could be with the risk of being married to a Shelby.

He would buy you any book that you so much as happened to glance at and in turn you would patch up and sew back together any unfortunate pieces of clothing that got in the way of Tommy and his dangerous life style and work, fighting back tears and worrying at your lower lip as you did so. You may not quite understand why he was constantly putting himself in danger but he was your husband all the same and you had grown to love him as your marriage progressed

you would also force him to go and see an actual trained medical professional whenever he came home with said ruined clothing, as a dead husband is less than ideal and you have grown attached these last couple months

Your empathy and tendancy to cry over him when he got hurt was a shock at first but he quickly got used to it, he even tried to avoid getting hurt just so as to not have to see you cry over him

He may not say it outright but he appreciates everything you do and how much you care for him

He doesn't like to keep secrets from you but he doesn't share all aspects of work life with you as he doesn't want you to worry too much, but if being kept in the dark would worry you even more he'd make an effort to keep you in the loop

Your gentleness and compassion is a welcome contrast to his life from before you were apart of it, Tommy didn't know that he needed it before you

If there's one thing about Tommy Shelby, it's that he protects what's his and as his wife he treats you with the utmost care (especially if you have a tendancy to seek out the good in all people)

One night when Tommy (finally) came to bed he found you curled up in a ball on your side with your back to the door, tears gently running down your smooth cheeks

Unsure of what to do when confronted by your distress but still wanting to help, he'd rush to your side and scoop you up onto his lap, holding you close with your tear-stained cheek pressed against his chest and an arm thrown protectively around your shoulders. He'd cautiously rock back and forwards whilst his hand moves slowly up and down your back in what he hopes is a soothing motion. He's a little awkward and stiff but damn if he isn't fucking trying

He'd use his forefinger and thumb to tilt your chin up and force your eyes to meet his own before softly questioning you on why you were crying

"What you crying for, hmm love? Ruining your pretty face"

He'd say, wiping away your tears with his thumb

Upon hearing that the reason for your tears was a sad ending to one of the books he bought you he'd be a little taken aback and he would honestly have to suppress the urge to laugh

It all seemed rather silly to him that you'd cry over some words on paper

"Tommy it isn't funny, it was really upsetting" you'd hiccup out through your tears

he'd just shake his head and sigh, apologising, before pulling you closer, finally laying down on the bed with your legs intertwined

Tommy had hoped it would be a one of chance but when he caught you crying in bed again over the ending of Of Mice and Men, he very quickly figured that he'd have to adapt

Tommy developed a system for when you had your... shall we say moments, he'd sit down on his side of the bed with his back pressed against the headboard before he lifted you up and placed you in-between his legs

Sitting you so that your back was resting against his chest and you could feel his heartbeat

You would then explain to him the sad moments in your books as he softly hummed and nodded his head along to your words

And when he got tired from your quiet voice lulling him to sleep he'd pull you down with him as he laid on his side, caging you in against his chest with an arm around your waist

Those were the nights that he slept the best

[strxngewitch02]

ALL I WANTED | PART TWO.

• Pairing: Tommy Shelby x Fem!Reader.

•Song: All I wanted by Paramore.

•Word count: 13.4K (I can explain- )

•Summary: (Based off of Season One Episode 2 & 3!)

A continuation from part one!

You've been in love and best friends with Tommy ever since you were kids, and when he came back from the war in France he has been cold and distant from you.

Wanting to be close with him again you put yourself at risk to try and help him with business with Billy Kimber.

Basically, you're like Grace in this story but with a few twists! I also changed up my writing style so there's going to be no "y/n" in this!

+ WARNINGS: SA attempt by Billy Kimber so please be careful of reading, and also smut.. just pure smut, but with built up plot :P

ALL OF CONTENT BELONGS TO STEVEN KNIGHT /NETFLIX PEAKY BLINDERS.

—

***

It was the next day, as you approached the racecourse, a wave of exhilaration washed over you, mingling with the scent of freshly cut grass and the distant sound of cheering crowds. Sneaking in wasn’t as daunting as you’d anticipated; the thrill of the illicit made your heart race. The atmosphere was charged, a chaotic blend of excitement and tension that hung thick in the air. In a place like this—a vibrant race track teeming with gamblers and the frenetic energy of the Shelby Home and Betting shop—you quickly realized it was practically a lawless realm. Billy Kimber’s infamous tracks were notorious for their high stakes and even higher tempers. Choosing the back entrance felt like a clever move, offering a sense of safety in the shadows, where your presence went unnoticed.

Buying a new dress had been a considerable challenge, fraught with the weight of your mother’s relentless reminders to save your shillings. Since childhood, her voice echoed in your mind, a mantra of thriftiness that tugged at your conscience. But working odd jobs for the Shelby family had finally paid off, allowing you to set aside enough to splurge on something special. As you stood before the mirror, your breath caught at the sight. You hoped you hadn’t gone overboard, but the moment felt monumental. The dress—a stunning black flapper number—draped over you like a second skin, its ruffled sleeves and plunging V-neck accentuating your curves with an effortless elegance. The soft fabric whispered against your skin, and the delicate ribbon tie cinched your waist, giving you a silhouette that made you feel both confident and daring.

You adorned yourself with your mother’s cherished pearl necklace, the cool beads resting against your collarbone, paired with matching earrings that caught the light with every movement. Your hair was meticulously styled, framing your face and adding a touch of sophistication. As you stepped out, the transformation felt profound; you were no longer just you but a vision of glamor, ready to take on the world.

As you navigated through the packed hallways, the vibrant energy enveloped you like a warm embrace. The parlor was alive with the intoxicating sounds of jazz music, each note swirling through the air like a delicate dance. Couples glided across the polished floor, lost in the rhythm, their laughter mingling with the music. The soft glow of chandeliers illuminated the room, casting a golden hue over the dancers, who wore smiles that radiated pure joy. You caught glimpses of men in sharp suits, their cigars clutched between fingers, while others leaned casually against the bar, their glasses filled with amber liquid that glimmered in the light.

In this glamorous setting, you felt a flicker of self-doubt—a brief moment of incongruity amid the elegance surrounding you. Yet, as you glanced at your reflection in a nearby polished mirror, the spark of confidence ignited within you. You looked sexy, and that was a bonus you were determined to embrace.

Your gaze flickered around the bustling parlor, finally landing on Billy Kimber, who sat with an air of arrogant confidence at a table surrounded by his men, a crystal flute of champagne in hand. The scene was almost absurd—this man reveled in luxury while his diligent accountant toiled away, managing the chaos that Kimber seemed to shrug off. As you maneuvered through the crowd, you felt the weight of Kimber’s intense gaze boring into you, a heat that lingered at the back of your head, impossible to ignore. It was unnerving; but you had captured his attention, and now you just needed to…

Before you could plot your next move, a firm, warm grip encircled your arm, pulling you gently to the side. Instinctively, your body pressed against a solid form, the warmth of their hand settling possessively on your waist. You turned, and your breath caught as you locked eyes with Tommy Shelby. His icy blue gaze sent a jolt of electricity through you, a tumultuous mix of excitement and anxiety swirling in your chest.

Oh shit. Tommy…

The thought echoed in your mind as you struggled to swallow the lump forming in your throat. “You better have a fucking good explanation for why you’re here,” he said, his voice calm yet charged with gravelly tension. His expression was a blend of annoyance and something more complex, a vexation that hinted at deeper concerns. As he began to sway with you to the music, the proximity was intoxicating, the heat between you both palpable.

Every fiber of your being was acutely aware of him—the way his presence seemed to command the space, how his grip felt both protective and dangerously intimate. You could feel your heart racing, a wild rhythm that matched the beat of the music surrounding you. This was more than just an encounter; it was a delicate dance on the edge of a knife, a collision of desire and danger. You fought to steady your breathing, knowing you had to tread carefully. This wasn’t merely about slipping into the scene unnoticed; it was about navigating the intricate web of emotions that tangled around you, especially in the presence of Tommy Shelby. Caught between fear and longing, you realized that tonight could change everything.

Quickly regaining your composure, you let the moment carry you as his hand shifted from your arm to grasp your palm. You felt the warmth of his skin seep into yours, an intoxicating connection that sent a shiver down your spine as you continued to dance amidst the swirling crowd. “Actually, I do,” you countered, your expression defiant, lips curling into a faint frown. “I just wanted to help you.” Your voice softened, and your eyes locked onto his, searching for a flicker of understanding.

It didn’t take long for Tommy to piece together how you had discovered his whereabouts. “Well, for one, you need to learn how to keep your ears out of my business,” he stated firmly, his stern gaze unwavering. “You need to leave; it’s not a good time.” The weight of his words hung heavily in the air, yet there was an underlying tension that both thrilled and terrified you.

God, it was hard to concentrate when he stood so close, his body radiating warmth against yours. The faint scent of cigarettes mixed with something uniquely Tommy, making your head spin. You couldn’t help but admire how handsome he looked, the dark gray suit tailored perfectly to his form, making his striking blue eyes pop even more. He had shaved, his jawline sharp and defined, giving him an air of refreshment that only added to your growing attraction.

But beneath the surface of your admiration lay a deeper turmoil. You felt torn between the desire to be near him and the fear of the dangers that surrounded him. Your heart raced not just from the dance but from the unspoken connection simmering between you. Each moment felt like a precarious balance, a delicate dance of vulnerability and defiance. You longed to reach out and pull him closer, to bridge the gap between the worlds you inhabited, but the tension in his expression held you back.

“Tommy,” you said softly, your voice barely above the music, a thread of vulnerability woven into your tone. “I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t care.” The sincerity in your words surprised you, a deep-seated need to connect cutting through the tension. You wanted him to see that your intentions were genuine, that you were willing to face the risks to stand by him.

In that moment, as the crowd surged around you and the music pulsed like a heartbeat, you realized this wasn’t just a chance encounter. It was a turning point, a moment that could shift everything for you. The thrill of uncertainty blended with a flicker of hope, igniting a fire in your chest that urged you to take a leap. You wanted to connect, to show him that you were more than just an outsider; you were someone who understood the stakes, willing to fight for a place in his world.

A glare formed on your features as you gazed up at Tommy, resolute in your purpose. “I am not leaving,” you replied sharply, your voice unwavering.

“You don’t get to make that decision…” He snapped, leaning closer, his face inches from yours. You could feel his warm breath brushing against your skin, sending a rush of adrenaline through you. “I mean it, love. This is not the time.” His tone grew increasingly frustrated, yet he maintained a semblance of control as he gently guided you toward a quieter corner at the back, the noise of the crowd fading into a distant hum.

“Tommy, I’m not going anywhere,” you declared, your voice firm as you followed him. But when you realized he was leading you toward the back exit, you halted in your tracks, your heart racing. He stopped too, letting out a deep sigh, his jaw clenched tightly. His eyes bore into yours, searching, challenging.

“Ever since France, with the coppers and that inspector—now the Lee family and Billy Kimber? You’ve been acting strange, pulling these dangerous stunts without involving me anymore. You know I can handle myself. I’ve helped run this business with Polly ever since you and Arthur and John left for France. And now you come back and shut me out? What’s different about now?” Your throat burned with the intensity of your words, each syllable echoing your frustration and hurt.

“We came back. That’s what changed.” Tommy replied curtly, pulling slightly away, his hands resting over your biceps, the grip both firm and possessive. “This is business between me and Kimber. I’m telling you now, this isn’t the time to get involved.” He growled slightly, a mix of anger and something deeper threading through his voice, his hold tightening on your arms.

You could sense the tension simmering between you, a cocktail of frustration and concern swirling in the air. You couldn’t tell if he was genuinely infuriated or merely protective, but his intensity sent your heart racing. This was the first time in a long while that he had shown he cared, the vulnerability of the moment stark against the backdrop of your conflict.

But no matter the reason for his anger, you stood your ground, refusing to back down.

“Tommy, you’re not the only one who gets to decide what’s dangerous,” you shot back, your pulse quickening as the space between you felt charged. “I’m here, and I deserve to know what’s going on. You may think you can protect me, but I’m not fragile. I’m part of this, too.”

The air between you crackled, each heartbeat amplifying the tension. His eyes searched yours, and for a fleeting moment, the world around you faded away. It was just you and him, caught in a storm of emotions that could either pull you apart or bring you closer together.

Shaking your head, you held onto your defiant expression, narrowing your eyes slightly. “Let me help you, Tommy. At least let me pretend to be your date to impress Billy Kimber. I’m already here, and he’s seen me.” Your heart constricted in your chest, a mix of fear and determination coursing through you. You both were far too stubborn; one of you had to break.

Tommy’s gaze pierced through you, steely and unyielding, as if he were dissecting your very thoughts. The intensity of his stare sent a shiver down your spine, making you acutely aware of how much he commanded the space around him. You could see the internal battle within him, a flicker of acknowledgment that you were right. Billy did have an interest in you, and that realization hung heavily in the air.

After a long, tense silence, he finally spoke. “Fine.” His voice was low and gravelly, a reluctant concession that felt more like a threat than an agreement. He glanced at his pocket watch, then back at you, his expression unreadable, as if he were weighing your worth against the dangers that surrounded him. “Stay by the bar. I’ll come back and get you.” As he intertwined his fingers with yours, a rush of warmth spread through you, grounding you in the moment despite the swirling chaos around you. It was a simple gesture, yet it sent your heart racing. You felt a mix of elation and anxiety as he led you toward the bar, your pulse quickening at the thought of being part of his world, even if only for a moment.

You could feel the stakes rising, the weight of the situation pressing down on both of you. There was an unspoken acknowledgment that this wasn’t just about the game with Kimber; it was about your place in Tommy’s world. As he released your hand, the warmth lingered, and you couldn’t shake the feeling that the night held more than just danger—it held the potential for something deeper.

He left you alone for only a moment, and you watched intently as he navigated through the crowd, two bulging bags slung over his shoulder. You assumed they were filled with shillings—money that the Lee family must have pilfered from Billy Kimber’s races. How on earth had he managed to get his hands on that? The enigma of Tommy Shelby always left you in awe, a mystery wrapped in layers you longed to unravel. For now, all you could do was watch, a role you had grown accustomed to throughout your life. Observing was what you did best.

Your gaze remained fixed on Tommy as he casually approached Kimber’s table, a confident swagger in his stride. He dumped the contents of the bags onto the table with a clatter, coins spilling out in a shimmering cascade. Kimber’s initial surprise morphed quickly into a look of perplexity, then annoyance. Tommy settled into the seat across from him, his movements fluid and assured as he pulled out a cigarette, the gesture almost casual yet laced with an underlying tension. You could only assume he was continuing the negotiations that had begun in the garrison yesterday, a dance of power that seemed to electrify the air around them.

You felt the weight of their exchange draw you in, but your attention faltered when you realized Kimber had caught you watching. A flicker of recognition passed between you, and you quickly turned away, the heat of embarrassment rising to your cheeks. With a deep sigh, you accepted a glass of champagne from the bartender, the cool crystal a contrast to the warmth building in your chest.As you take a sip, the bubbles tickle your throat, and you let the effervescence distract you from the tension that hangs in the air.

The entire situation was aggravating. You couldn’t shake off Tommy’s words—We came back. That’s what changed. A part of you sensed there was more beneath the surface, a depth to his statement that he wasn’t revealing. What an enigma Tommy Shelby was, a man cloaked in secrets and shadows, leaving you both intrigued and frustrated.

Lost in your thoughts, you were suddenly jolted from your daze by a hand brushing against your lower back. You turned to find Tommy standing there, taking a final drag from his cigarette before extinguishing it in the white glass ashtray before him. He seemed utterly unfazed, his demeanor calm and collected, yet something in his presence made your pulse quicken.

“What happened?” you asked quietly, your voice barely above a whisper. He looked back at you, his expression stoic and unreadable, as if he had mastered the art of concealing his thoughts.

“So listen, uh, we’re going to dinner at Kimber’s house,” he said casually, tilting his head slightly as if it were the most ordinary of announcements. He glanced down for a moment, avoiding your gaze, which only piqued your interest further. It felt like he was holding something back, a decision made without your involvement.

You leaned in slightly, trying to catch a glimpse of what lay behind his nonchalance. “Why now?” you pressed, your heart racing as you sought answers. The tension in the air felt electric, charged with unspoken questions and unresolved feelings.

Tommy shrugged slightly, his tone indifferent. “It’s business. Nothing more.” His words hung between you, but the way he said them felt like a barrier, keeping you at arm’s length. You searched his face for any hint of vulnerability, but he remained a fortress, unmoved by the weight of the moment.

“He has a place a couple of miles away,” Tommy continued, finally meeting your gaze. But even then, his expression remained unreadable, a mask of stoicism that made your heart race with unease. “I have some business to settle with the accountant first, so you go on ahead with Kimber.”

Your heart sank, the weight of his words pressing down on you. A pit of dread settled in your stomach, quickly igniting into a flare of anger. You never imagined that your best friend—the man you had loved since childhood—would so casually offer you up like this. “You’re not coming? Just going to leave me alone with Kimber?” Your voice wavered, hurt lacing your tone as you held his gaze, desperate for any flicker of empathy.

“Yeah…” Tommy replied, his voice flat, as if he were stating an inevitable fact. “Until I’m done here… Is that alright?” The nonchalance in his tone was like a slap, leaving you feeling even more isolated. It felt as if he was expecting you to accept this without question, casting you into a role you never asked for.

The sting of betrayal cut deep. How could he be so indifferent to your feelings? You had wanted to help him, to stand by his side as he faced whatever darkness loomed ahead. But this? This was not what you envisioned. You fought the urge to lash out, the emotional turmoil boiling just beneath the surface.

Setting your champagne glass down with a sharp clink, you took a steadying breath. “When I said I wanted to help, I didn’t think you would pimp me out…” The words felt heavy, and though you tried to keep your voice calm, the tremor revealed your pain.

“What did you expect?” Tommy sighed, irritation creeping into his tone. The tension radiating from him was almost palpable, a wall he had built that left you feeling small and vulnerable. “You said you wanted to help me. And if you want to help me, you’re going to have to sharpen up.” His jaw clenched, and he briefly glanced at Kimber and his accountant, who were waiting with impatience, their eyes darting between you and Tommy.

In that moment, you felt utterly exposed, torn between your loyalty to Tommy and the bitter realization that he was asking you to sacrifice your self-worth. You had envisioned standing alongside him, fighting the battles he faced, not being thrust into the shadows to play a role that felt so degrading.

As the weight of his words settled over you, the truth began to sink in: this was not just about the night ahead; it was about the trust you thought you had built over the years, now crumbling before your eyes. You stood there, grappling with the ache of betrayal, yearning for the boy who once fought for you, who once saw you as his equal. Instead, you felt like a pawn, pushed away rather than embraced, and the realization twisted deep in your gut.

“The deal is he has two hours with you, he thinks he’s a ladies man, thinks he can seduce you. Whenever you want you can kick him in the balls and be on your merry way, and I can meet you back at the garrison.” Tommy explained but you could feel your emotions on the brink of collapse. “So that’s how it’s going to be?” You asked back your eyes, searching for any sign of hesitation or worry or honestly anything within his features but to your disappointment you couldn’t find anything.

“You wanted to be involved, and you chose to stay. You could have walked out when I told you to, but you didn’t. If you want to help me, you need to understand that sacrifices are necessary.” Tommy’s voice was cold, leaving no room for argument. He turned away, the air thick with unresolved tension as he walked out with Kimber’s accountant, leaving you alone with Kimber, whose gaze felt predatory, making your skin crawl.

In that moment, a wave of despair washed over you. The betrayal stung, sharper than any physical wound. You had poured your heart into him, believing that your love could bridge the gap between your dreams and his ambitions. But now, faced with the stark reality, you felt like a ghost haunting the edges of his life, invisible and unwanted.

You took a shaky breath, trying to gather the fragments of your shattered trust. Each heartbeat echoed the truth: you had been right all along. Tommy had never truly seen you; you were merely a placeholder in his world, eclipsed by his relentless pursuit of success. The realization crushed you, leaving an ache in your chest that felt insurmountable.

As Kimber’s gaze bore into you, a mix of anger and heartache twisted within. You felt abandoned, longing for a connection that had never been reciprocated. The dreams you once cherished felt like distant memories, slipping through your fingers like sand. Maybe, in the end, he really didn’t care about you at all. You were left grappling with the painful truth: the love you had for him was not enough to keep him by your side, and now you were just a shadow of what might have been, lost and alone.

***

***

The ride to Billy Kimber’s house felt like an eternity, each passing moment stretched thin by his incessant chatter. It took every ounce of restraint in your body to keep your mouth shut, fighting the urge to stuff a sock in his mouth to silence his bragging about his accomplishments and his eagerness to show off his extravagant home.

Regret gnawed at you like a persistent ache. You couldn’t shake the feeling that Tommy had been right all along—that you should have listened to his warnings. The memory of him offering you up so easily stung like a fresh wound. What was he trying to prove? Was this some twisted form of punishment? The questions spiraled in your mind, each “why-” echoing louder than the last, leaving you feeling more lost and frustrated.

“Ever been to a house as big as this, hm?” His obnoxious voice jolted you from your thoughts. You stood by the window, refusing to turn and meet Kimber’s gaze as he approached with a drink in hand. The arrogance in his tone was palpable, and you could almost feel it pressing against your skin, making you consider the absurdity of throwing yourself out of the window just to escape his presence.

Your disinterest was glaringly obvious, yet Kimber, blissfully ignorant, continued to prattle on. “Don’t see why that matters,” you replied, your voice flat and detached, keeping your eyes trained on the scenery outside. Wow, that tree sure looked interesting over there. It was a stark contrast to the chaotic mess of emotions swirling inside you, a welcome distraction from the reality of being trapped in this situation.

The hairs on your neck stood up as you felt his hands on your shoulders instantly flipping you around forcing you to meet his gaze, your heart began to race from your chest, your eyes widening slightly. “I love my women feisty..Especially when they have such a bloody hot body such as yours.” He murmured with a grin on his lips as he grabbed your face in his hands forcing his lips against yours causing a muffled yelp to spill from your lips but you didn’t hesitate to bite down on his bottom lip causing him to pull back with a pained groan holding his lip. “You fucking bit me? You bitch!” He cursed at you completely livid, but you remained rigid in your spot, your gaze piercing at him.

“Yeah? I’m a bitch and your dick is small.” You snarled back but without any warning Billy lunged at you causing you to stumble to the side trying to get away only for your body to be slammed against the pool table feeling sharp pain shoot throughout your lower back as you scrambled to fight this man off of you. “You need to be taught some fucking manners.” He hissed in your ear as he pinned you down against the table with one hand holding your wrists, while the other was pulling up your dress making your stomach sink. “Get the fuck off of me!” You shouted as you continued to squirm before managing to slip your hand out from his grasp and jabbed your fingers into his eyes making him scream out in pain causing him to back off for a moment giving you an opportunity to slip both of your hands out and kicked him in the balls making him double over with a groan.

As swiftly as he released you, your instincts kicked in, urging you to dart toward the door. But just as you lunged forward, it swung open to reveal a breathless Tommy, and you froze, heart pounding in your chest. The shock of his sudden appearance hit you like a jolt, mixing with the adrenaline that surged through your veins, amplifying every sound and sensation. Fear and relief collided within you, leaving you momentarily paralyzed, caught between the urgency of escape and the chaotic swirl of emotions that threatened to overwhelm you.

“What the fuck?! What the fuck are you doing here?! I still have another hour?!” Kimber shouted his face burning red as he glared daggers at you and Tommy, while slowly getting up from the ground, his hand grasping his manhood. “Just wait, and just listen to me..” Tommy spoke with wide eyes, his voice steady yet breathless, betraying the tension in the air. He raised his hand slightly, a cautious gesture meant to signal his intention to diffuse the situation, aware that Kimber might redirect his anger toward him instead. The muscles in his jaw tightened, and a flicker of apprehension crossed his face as he braced himself for the potential storm.

Instinctively you stepped to the side slowly making your way back to the door while simultaneously keeping your eyes on the two men. “I was going to let you go through with it but in the end my conscience got the better of me..” Tommy says slowly putting his hand down now both of his hands resting on his hips, as Kimber stared at him his face still scrunched up into a glare. “She looks good on the outside but.. S-she, she’s ill. Hears voices all the time and.. makes her act like a nut job, that’s why they kicked her out of the brothel.” Tommy pointed at you, and your jaw dropped in disbelief at his outrageous statement. Kimber’s face twisted in shock as he glanced over, his expression a mix of confusion and disgust. “And it doesn’t help that… she also has the claps,” Tommy concluded, throwing that ridiculous cherry on top of his lie. Offended, you felt a flush of anger rising in your chest as Kimber recoiled, avoiding you as if you were a contagious disease, while you stood there, furious and humiliated by the absurdity of it all.

No way Tommy just managed to save your life but insulted you at the same fucking time.

“I saw that you took a shine on her so I thought what the hell? And thought I used her.. Call it my better nature but I just thought you should know.” Tommy added to Kimber before approached you, lightly grabbing your arm as he said, “You go wait in the car.” His tone was authoritative, and you could hear the undercurrent of sternness in his voice. But you turned away sharply, pulling your arm back aggressively, every ounce of frustration boiling over. Without another word, you stormed out of the room, leaving him behind, and didn’t bother to wait for his reaction.

Once outside, you felt the weight of your anger propel you forward, each step away from the house stoking the flames of your fury. Your blood boiled with each stride, your heart pounding fiercely in your chest, almost making you dizzy. You flung yourself into the car, slamming the door with a force that echoed your frustration. The reality of what just transpired crashed over you like a wave, your mind racing to process how everything had unraveled so quickly. The thought of what could’ve happened back there sent a shiver down your spine, and you forced yourself not to dwell on the darker possibilities.

You barely had time to collect your thoughts when you heard the car door open beside you. Tommy slid into the driver’s seat, the tension thick between you. He cleared his throat, the sound heavy with unspoken words, before starting the engine. As he drove toward the gate, the landscape blurred past, and you felt a mix of anger and confusion simmering inside, wishing you could make sense of the chaos that had just unfolded.

*** ***

The drive was enveloped in a thick, tense silence, and your anger simmered just beneath the surface. Finally, unable to contain yourself, you broke the stillness. “I hate you.” The words hung in the air, laced with hurt, as you refused to meet his gaze. Tommy didn’t respond, his eyes fixed on the road ahead, his grip on the steering wheel tightening until his knuckles turned white. The silence settled between you like a heavy fog, suffocating and raw.

A deep, shaky exhale escaped your lips as you tried to gather your thoughts. “You know… All I wanted was to be by your side. It’s always been that way since we were kids. And then fucking France happened. I waited four years for you to come back, hoping you would keep your promise.” The memories crashed over you like waves, each one more painful than the last. “And then you return, but the Tommy I knew… he’s gone. Where is the man who would smile and laugh with me? Because the man sitting next to me right now isn’t him.” Your voice trembled, the weight of your emotions rising as you noticed the familiar sights of Small Heath approaching. Each word felt like a release, a desperate plea for the connection you once had, as the distance between you felt impossibly vast.

Another deep breath escaped your lips as tears threatened to spill, but you fought to keep your gaze fixed ahead, feeling the weight of Tommy’s silence pressing down on you. No idea what he was fucking thinking. “You’re not even going to say anything?” you snapped, the bitterness in your voice surprising even yourself. A wry half-smile curled at your lips, a feeble attempt to mask the turmoil inside, while your leg bounced restlessly, dread pooling in your stomach. “First, you offered me up like some whore, and now I’m just a sicko with the claps. And you’re just… silent?”

Finally, you turned to meet Tommy’s gaze, searching desperately for any flicker of emotion, but his eyes were clouded, darkened by an unspoken storm. The silence stretched on, suffocating and heavy, and frustration gnawed at your insides like a persistent ache. You couldn’t decipher his thoughts, and that uncertainty twisted like a knife in your heart, amplifying the sense of betrayal and abandonment that had settled deep within you.

But then again, no response was a response. He wasn’t going to fight for you. As the car glided through the gritty streets of Small Heath, tears finally broke free, spilling down your cheeks. When the vehicle came to a stop in front of your home, a dry chuckle escaped your lips, a bitter sound that barely resembled laughter. “Fine…” you mumbled, the weight of your emotions crashing down as you flung open the car door and stepped out, slamming it behind you with a force that echoed your heartbreak.

“I don’t want to see you again. Don’t expect me to show up at the Garrison or the betting shop. I’m not staying here anymore. I’m done.” Your voice rose, raw and unfiltered, fueled by all the pent-up hurt and anger that had finally spilled over. Each word was a release, allowing your emotions to take control, your heart breaking a little more with every syllable, desperate to escape the pain that had become too much to bear.

When you turned away, you missed the moment Tommy finally looked at you, his gaze heavy with unspoken pain, as if you’d struck a nerve deep within him. Stepping inside your home, the familiar walls felt suffocating, a refuge turned prison. You heard his footsteps marching behind you, each step resonating like a drumbeat of dread, and before you knew it, he was inside, shutting the door with a quiet finality that echoed your own turmoil.

“No, Tommy, get out. I don’t want to fucking see you!” you exclaimed, your voice trembling with a mix of anger and heartbreak. But he stood there, a storm in human form, his bright blue eyes boring into you, exposing every raw nerve beneath your skin. In that moment, you felt completely unguarded, as if all your defenses had crumbled.

“You hate me, eh?” he growled, a rough edge to his voice that twisted something deep inside you. “If I didn’t fucking care about you, I wouldn’t have come back.” His words hung in the air, a paradox that stung like a slap, revealing the vulnerability hidden beneath his bravado.

“Yeah, you came back for a whore with the claps,” you shot back, forcing a bitter laugh that tasted like ash. The sarcasm was a flimsy shield, barely concealing the hurt that welled up inside you. You turned away again, desperate to shield yourself from his gaze, but Tommy was relentless, following you as if he could pull you back from the brink of your own despair.

In that moment, the air between you crackled with unresolved feelings—fear, longing, anger—and you both stood on the edge of something profound and terrifying, unable to escape the truth that bound you together even as it threatened to tear you apart.

“That’s not what I meant!” Tommy shouted after you, his voice raw with a mix of anger and hurt. But you kept walking, seeking refuge in your room, where the walls felt like a fragile barrier against the chaos swirling outside. “After France, I kept myfucking promise. I came back for you!” His words hung in the air, heavy with unspoken weight, desperation creeping into his tone. Suddenly, he grabbed your arm, spinning you to face him, but you instinctively whipped around your palm contacting his cheek with a hard slap.

As the palm of your hand met his cheek, a jolt of pain shot through him, and you felt it resonate deep within you. He recoiled slightly, his expression tightening in an instant, caught off guard by the force of your anger. His jaw clenched, the sting of the slap mixing with disbelief, creating a hurricane of emotions that played across his features.

His eyes flickered with a haunting blend of hurt and anger, as if he were grappling with the weight of your action and the emotions it revealed. You could see the shock transforming into something deeper—a realization that this moment marked a fracture in the fragile bond you once shared. The air between you crackled with tension, each heartbeat echoing the unspoken words that hung heavy between you. It was a moment suspended in time, raw and revealing, where both your pain and his collided, leaving an aching silence in its wake.

You couldn’t stop the tears streaming down your cheeks, each drop a testament to the turmoil inside you. Heavy breaths spilled from your lips, your body trembling slightly as the reality of what you had done crashed over you. After everything that had happened today, your instincts were locked in survival mode, your heart pounding with a mix of fear and anger.

“I did what I had to do, and I’m here now… I’m here with you, aren’t I?” Tommy’s voice was a low growl, but it only deepened the chasm between you.

“T-that doesn’t change anything, Tommy,” you shot back, your voice quaking with pain. “Today, you proved to me that everything we’ve been through was all for nothing.” The words felt like knives, your throat tightening with each syllable, the weight of your anguish making it hard to breathe.

“Y-you never cared about me! If you did, you wouldn’t have left me behind—four years ago, and even now with Billy Kimber! If you hadn’t shown up last minute, God knows what could’ve happened!” You shouted, each word laced with raw emotion, your body trembling as the memories flooded back, threatening to drown you.

Your stomach twisted in knots, the hurt and betrayal surging through you like a tidal wave. It felt as if every moment of longing, every ounce of hope had been crushed under the weight of his absence, leaving you feeling utterly exposed and vulnerable. In that moment, the room was charged with unresolved pain, your hearts colliding in a desperate struggle for understanding and connection, even as you felt worlds apart.

Tommy’s jaw tightened, muscles coiling like a spring, his fists clenching so tightly that his knuckles turned white, a physical manifestation of his inner turmoil. “You think I don’t care about you?” he spat, his eyes ablaze with a fierce mix of anger and hurt, as if your words had struck him at his core. He stepped closer, closing the distance until his face was only inches from yours, the heat radiating between you both almost palpable.

“Do you really think I didn’t care when I saw you at the races? I told you to leave because I needed you to be safe! But you’re so bloody stubborn that you couldn’t take a hint!” His voice was low and intense, each word a jagged edge, revealing just how deeply your actions affected him. “You think I didn’t care when I stopped Kimber from hurting you?!” His tone sharpened, rising with the weight of his frustration, the raw emotion spilling out in waves.

“I care about you! I’ve always cared about you, I never stopped!” He struggled to rein in his voice, the intensity softening slightly as vulnerability flickered across his features. The fire in his eyes began to dim, replaced by a haunting sincerity that made your heart ache. You could see the pain behind his anger, a deep well of feeling that he fought to keep hidden.

In that moment, it felt as if the air around you crackled with unspoken truths, both of you teetering on the brink of something profound. The tension between you was electric, filled with the weight of all the hurt and longing you had both carried, leaving you breathless and trembling, caught in a maelstrom of love and regret.

Your gaze softened as you stared at him incredulously, the silence between you growing heavy and suffocating, pressing down on your chest. He was so close that your head spun, every detail of his face etched in your mind—the fire in his eyes slowly giving way to something more tender, his lips mere inches from yours.

“Then why?” you asked, your voice dropping to a whisper, barely breaking the tense stillness. “Why do you keep me out of things and act so cold towards me?” The question hung in the air, your voice trembling, the weight of your hurt spilling into every word. You sniffled gently, trying to regain control of your ragged breathing.

“Because at the end of the day, you made your choice… I see how you see me. I understand that war changed you, that it was hell for you.” Each revelation felt like a tender wound, exposing the vulnerability you both carried. “I don’t expect you to be the same, but…” You paused, shaking your head in frustration, tears welling up despite your efforts to hold them back. “I can’t be here anymore, not with you. It hurts too much.”

The admission felt like a raw, aching truth. “It’s like no matter how hard I try to reach out to you, you just seem to pull further away from me. Clearly, nothing I do is good enough for you, or maybe I’m just not good enough for you. I don’t know anymore… You don’t need me.” A quiet sob broke free from your lips, the dam of pent-up emotions crashing down around you.

As the tears fell, you felt exposed yet strangely liberated, the weight of your feelings pressing down on you. His gaze softened, and you could see the battle within him—his desire to reach for you, to bridge the distance that had grown between you. You turned your face away, feeling embarrassed, but in that moment, the air between you crackled with a charged intimacy. It was a moment teetering on the edge, where both of you stood vulnerable, hearts laid bare, longing for connection even amidst the pain.

Tommy’s hardened expression softened when he caught the vulnerability in your eyes, a flicker of understanding passing between you. He took a deep breath, his chest rising and falling as if gathering strength, and his voice turned gentle, almost tender. “So you think you’re not what I need?”

He stepped closer, closing the distance that felt like an ocean between you. As he reached out, his hand gently cupped your cheek, drawing your blurry gaze back to his. “Have you ever considered that I don’t care about any of that?” His words wrapped around you like a warm embrace. “If you want to help me or not, I don’t care. As long as I know that you’re here, then I can keep going… alright?”

Now, both of his hands cradled your cheeks, his thumbs brushing softly over your damp skin, each touch igniting a warmth that spread through you. “I see you, love. I see how hard you try.” His gaze held yours, fierce yet tender. “I just don’t want you to see me. I was… I am scared. Scared that what you see in me now might not be what you want anymore.” The honesty in his voice made your heart ache, his vulnerability laid bare before you.

“And when I’m scared… it’s unfamiliar to you, but not for me. You can hate me, but I am not letting you go.” His voice was slightly raspy, thick with emotion, and in that moment, the air felt charged with intimacy. You could feel the weight of his fears intertwining with your own, creating a fragile bond that pulled you closer.

As you stood there, enveloped in his gaze, you realized that despite the chaos and hurt, there was a deep connection between you—one that was worth fighting for. In that shared silence, filled with understanding and longing, it felt as if time stood still, and you both held onto the hope that maybe, just maybe, love could still find its way through the cracks.

“Tommy…” you uttered his name shakily, your voice trembling as your mind struggled to process the torrent of emotions his words had unleashed within you. You wanted to believe him, but doubt clawed at your heart. What if he was just manipulating you? What if he was simply taking advantage of your feelings? After everything that had happened today, forgiveness felt like an impossible bridge to cross.

You shook your head slightly in his hands, the gesture filled with a mix of confusion and yearning. Your own hands rested gently on his chest, trying to create some distance, a barrier against the vulnerability that threatened to overwhelm you. “No… Tommy, stop… just stop…” you whispered, the softness of your voice belied by the turmoil roiling inside.

But even as you spoke, you could feel his heart beating steadily against your palm, each thump echoing the unsteady rhythm of your own. It was a tangible reminder of the connection between you, the warmth radiating from him drawing you in despite your reservations. You felt everything—the heat of his skin, the intensity of his gaze, the pulse of his heart under your fingertips—and it both comforted and terrified you.

Tommy shook his head, refusing to accept your response, a fire burning in his eyes. “I won’t stop,” he said hoarsely, stepping even closer, closing the distance until the air between you felt electric. “Not until you understand how goddamn serious I am… The moment you stepped away with Kimber, I knew I made a mistake. I shouldn’t have let that happen.”

His hands reached for you, gently gripping your chin and tilting your face to ensure your gaze stayed locked on his. As he spoke, his fingers traced the delicate line of your jaw, sending shivers down your spine. “You’re mine,” he repeated, his voice low and possessive, each word hanging in the air like a promise.

The intensity of his presence surrounded you, his thumb brushing softly across your bottom lip. Your heart skipped a beat, a jolt of electricity coursing through your body at the intimacy of the moment. You could feel the heat radiating from him, wrapping around you like a protective cocoon, and for a heartbeat, the world outside faded away.

In that gaze, you saw something raw and vulnerable, a deep longing that mirrored your own. It was as if he was offering you a glimpse into the depths of his heart, revealing a passion that he had been holding back. You felt the tension between you thickening, a palpable connection that drew you closer despite the walls you had tried to build.

“Tommy…” you breathed, feeling the weight of his words settle in your chest. The fear and doubt that had clouded your mind began to wane, replaced by the undeniable truth of your feelings. In that moment, you realized that you were standing on the precipice of something transformative, the potential for healing and understanding woven into the very air you shared.

“You belong with me. And I'm not letting you go, understand?” He leaned in closer, so close that you could feel his breath against your skin. “You try to leave, 'll follow you. You try to hide, I'll find you. You try to fight me, I'll pin you down, and make you understand that you're mine.” He says in a low tone making you walk backwards, you can tell that he can sense the change in your exterior, how you were crumbling underneath his gaze, his body pressed against yours now towering over you.

You took a few steps back until your spine pressed firmly against the wall, a quiet gasp escaping as you glanced over your shoulder, then back to him. The traces of tears on your cheeks faded into a faint blush, warmth spreading through you as your heart raced in your chest. The pressure of his body against yours sent your thoughts spinning.

You lifted your gaze, soft and flustered, meeting his eyes just inches away—close enough that your noses brushed, his warm breath grazing your lips. “I…” you stammered, struggling as your mind filled with thoughts of only him. “Do you believe me?” he whispered, his voice low and smooth, each word wrapped in velvet.

The longer you stared at him, the more real it felt—Tommy was letting his guard down with you. This was the closest you’d ever been to him, and for the first time, you could see the vulnerability, worry, and frustration swirling in his striking eyes. You had never seen him like this before. It was as though he finally felt safe with you, like he did all those years ago. “I believe you…” you replied softly, but before you could say another word, he pulled back just a little, his gaze unwavering.

His fingers traced lightly along your jaw, down to your neck, following the curve of your collarbone. You knew he could feel the rhythm of your pulse racing beneath his touch, the steady, primal beat of your heart answering to his presence.

"You have no idea what you do to me," he murmured, his voice low and velvet-smooth. He moved closer, pressing himself against you even more firmly, pinning you fully against the wall. His hand slid to your hip, his thumb grazing the soft skin exposed at the top of your dress, sending a shiver through you. Every sense was heightened, your mind hazy, caught in the warmth of his body, the intensity of his voice, and the way he held you right where he wanted you. Love and desire surrounded you completely-you were his, just as he was yours.

Your hands found their way to his biceps, fingers tracing along his muscles as you leaned into him. "Damn you, Tommy..." you muttered, voice soft, half-cursing, half-pleading. "Not letting me go... and you can't just say things like that..." The words escaped you, resistance fading as you surrendered to the moment, feeling yourself sink deeper into him, unable to fight the pull he had over you.

"You're damn right I'm not letting go," he answered, his voice a deep, possessive growl. "Trust me, from the moment I saw you... when we found each other... I knew. You've always been mine, and I don't give up what's mine." The intensity of his words made your fingers tighten around the fabric of his suit, pulling him closer. He leaned in, his lips brushing from your ear down along your jawline. He nipped at your skin, tasting the faint saltiness, before trailing down to the sensitive spot at the base of your neck. A silent gasp escaped you, legs threatening to buckle, but his body pressed firmly against yours kept you steady, pinned against the wall in his unrelenting hold.

The temperature in your body began to rise, overwhelming you with a burning desire for him that you could no longer control. Tommy's lips grazed the sensitive skin of your neck, leaving a trail of hot, wet kisses from the base up to your collarbone. His hands gripped your hips more firmly, pulling you even closer against him, as if he wanted to merge your bodies into one.

Your mind became a haze, thoughts dissipating as your body instinctively moved to close the gap between you. You drew his face from your neck to yours, capturing his lips in a passionate kiss that ignited every nerve in your body. You couldn't hold back your longing; this was everything you had wanted for so long, and there was no turning back now.

Driven by a need for more, you lifted one leg and draped it around his hip, wanting to feel even closer as your body pressed against the wall. Tommy responded immediately, his hands sliding down to your thighs, gripping you tightly before lifting you up. You found yourself completely pinned against the wall, your bodies flush against each other, lost in a moment that felt both electric and timeless.

He deepened the kiss, his tongue slipping into your mouth and tasting you, drawing a breathless moan from your lips. One of his hands tangled in your hair, holding you captive, while the other gripping your thigh tightly, supporting you as he lifted you effortlessly. Your heart raced in your chest, fluttering with excitement as your kisses grew more feverish, each movement igniting a fire within you.

The sensation of his tongue brushing against yours sent shivers of bliss cascading through you, and you wrapped your arms around his body, pulling him closer. You wrapped your legs completely around his waist, wanting to feel every inch of his warmth invade your being. In that moment, the world around you faded into a beautiful blur; nothing else mattered but him. You could feel the depth of Tommy's devotion, cutting through your lingering doubts and the pain that clouded your mind. He was here, completely present, and that was all you needed.

The sounds of your moans seemed to ignite something deep and primal within Tommy, awakening a possessiveness that made him even more fervent. He deepened the kiss further, his tongue exploring your mouth hungrily, claiming you as his own. His hands roamed across your body, feeling every curve and contour, as if he wanted to make you entirely his.

Another gentle moan escaped your lips, your eyes fluttering closed as heavy breaths tumbled from your trembling form.

When he finally broke the passionate kiss, his lips trailed down your neck once more, leaving a path of hot kisses and gentle bites across your sensitive skin, sending jolts of pleasure coursing through you.

"Tommy..." you whispered his name almost desperately, your fingers tangling in his raven tresses, pulling him closer.

With your free hand, you allowed it to slither between your bodies, driven by an intense need to feel him. You fumbled with his belt, your fingers trembling with anticipation and longing, desperate to bridge the gap between you.

Tommy only grunted against your sensitive flesh, his hips shifting patiently as your fingers fumbled with his belt. You could feel his hips pressing more firmly against yours, sending waves of pleasure coursing between your legs.

"Say you're mine," he urged, his voice hoarse and filled with need, sending shivers down your spine.

"I-I'm.." you struggled to whisper, intoxicated by the intensity of the moment, your body aching with arousal. "I'm yours," you finally breathed out, your words barely a whisper, but filled with conviction. Your lips brushed against the shell of his ear, igniting another wave of desire within him.

With a gentle tug of his hair, you pulled his face back up to yours, pressing your lips hungrily against his. The kiss deepened once more, your bodies melding together as if they were meant to fit. In that moment, nothing else existed; it was just the two of you, lost in the overwhelming need for one another.

A deep groan spilled from Tommy's lips, his need matching yours, a visible shiver coursing through his body that sent your mind spiraling into haziness once more. "You don't know how much I want you," he breathed against your lips, his voice thick with longing.

"You have me..." you replied, breathless and trembling with bliss as you managed to undo his belt between kisses, feeling the heat radiating off him. "I love you, Tommy..." you murmured mindlessly against his lips before pulling back to place gentle kisses in the crook of his neck, savoring the taste of his skin.

At your words, he only growled in response, the sound low and primal. Your soft gasps and moans prompted his hips to jerk forward subconsciously, as if instinctively trying to get closer to you. You whimpered at the sensation of his restrained erection pressing against your clothed, aching core, the friction igniting a fire of desire deep within you. Each movement only fueled his hunger for you, pushing both of you further into this intoxicating moment, caught in a whirlwind of passion and yearning.

You didn't fully comprehend the weight of your confession until you heard his response, the words igniting a fire within you.

:..I love you," he murmured huskily, the admission wrapping around your heart and making it soar in your chest. Suddenly, you felt achingly alive, every nerve ending tingling with exhilaration. Your hands gripped his body once more, the realization of what you had longed for crashing over you like a tidal wave. You could hardly contain the tremors of bliss that coursed through you at the sound of his words; they were all it took to send you spiraling.

His hands tightened around your thighs, pulling you even closer, and you could feel the tautness of his body, driven by unrelenting desire. His breath came in ragged gasps, mirroring the urgency that surged between you. The friction was electrifying, an intense reminder of how much you both craved one another.

"Bed... the bed." you whispered breathlessly against his skin, your voice barely above a gasp as you gestured to the bed behind him. You wanted nothing more than to come undone with him, to surrender to the moment that had finally arrived.

The urgency clawed at you; you couldn't wait any longer.

He captured your lips in a fervent kiss, his tongue delving into your mouth with a low, possessive growl. His hands gripped your hips, lifting you effortlessly, and you gasped softly against his lips as he carried you to the bed.

Without breaking the kiss, he laid you down gently, his body pressing down over yours.Instinctively, you wrapped your arms around him, pulling him close, not wanting an inch of space between you. "I need you, love," he whispered urgently, his voice rough with desire.

"Me too, Tommy, me too.." you breathed, breaking the kiss just long enough for your hands to move with a mind of their own. In a surge of passion, you tore open his white button-up shirt, the buttons scattering as his chest was revealed.

With swift fingers, you slipped off his tie, leaving his muscular form bare before you. Your hands roamed freely over his body, tracing every line and contour, as if trying to memorize him through touch alone. He settled himself between your legs, leaning back slightly as he gazed down at you with an intensity that sent shivers through your core. In that moment, the world felt small, as if it existed solely to witness the depth of this passion.

You watched as his gaze darkened with unrestrained desire, a shiver rippling through him before he leaned back down to claim your lips in a kiss so heated it left you breathless. His tongue explored your mouth, tasting you deeply, and a soft whine escaped you, your eyes fluttering shut as he seemed intent on savoring every part of you.

His hands moved with urgency, stripping away your clothes with a feverish impatience that matched the thrum of your heartbeat. The cool air hit your bare skin, making you shiver as he slid your dress from your shoulders, letting it fall to the floor along with the rest of your clothing. Your body, now exposed to him, bore goosebumps that prickled across your skin as his hungry gaze roamed over you.

Breaking the kiss, his mouth began its descent, trailing hot, wet kisses down your neck, across your collarbone, and along your shoulder, each touch igniting sparks that seemed to set your skin alight. Unsteady breaths spilled from your parted lips, your body arching instinctively toward him as he continued his worship. Every kiss he left seared into you, sending tendrils of warmth spiraling through your veins. Your fingers tangled in his hair, gripping him closer, silently urging him never to stop, to keep grounding you in this moment that felt as eternal as it was fleeting.

When his gaze finally settled on your exposed form, you felt a delicate shiver ripple through you, the intensity of his eyes making your heart pound. He paused for a moment, drinking in the sight, his gaze full of reverence and want. "You are so beautiful," he whispered, his voice rough with desire, each word resonating deep within you. His hands moved tenderly over your body, exploring your curves and tracing every line and dip of your skin, as though committing each detail to memory.

Your own hands roamed over him, gliding from his solid biceps to his strong back, feeling his muscles shift beneath your fingertips. The sensation made your breath hitch, and you couldn't hold back any longer. "Tommy, please... I can't wait," you whimpered, your hips beginning to grind against him, feeling the hardness of his arousal pressing through his unfastened pants. The friction sent a soft moan tumbling from your lips.

"I know, my darling," he murmured, his voice low and rough with restraint as he struggled to keep himself in check. "I want you too... so much." His body trembled, a reflection of his own barely contained desire, and he shifted, pressing his hips against yours with purpose. The hot, intoxicating friction between you sparked a whine from your lips, which only served to fuel his own need, his hands gripping your thighs possessively to pull you closer still.

The intensity grew, each touch, each whisper making the ache in you nearly unbearable. His groan mingled with your soft cries, the sound vibrating between you, creating a rhythm of shared longing and building passion. In that moment, all you knew was him, his touch, his warmth, as you both lost yourselves to the unrelenting pull of each other's desire.

Your breathing grew heavier, each breath a testament to the desperate ache building inside you. Your hands moved instinctively, fumbling to push down the last of his clothing, and as you slid his boxers down, a groan of satisfaction escaped him, low and guttural.

"You want me so bad, don't you?" he murmured, his voice a husky blend of amusement and need, watching you with an intensity that made you shiver. He reached down to help, quickly shedding the last of his clothes until he stood before you, fully exposed.

The sight of him left you breathless— his dick hard and heavy, curving slightly, the tip glistening with anticipation. The sight alone made heat pool low in your belly, a rush of desire that nearly left you dizzy. You bit your lip, feeling a wicked pull, a need to taste him, to finally feel him in your mouth. It only felt wrong to not finally be able to suck on his cock.

Reaching out, you let your fingers trail up his thighs before wrapping your hand gently around him, feeling the weight of him in your palm. You looked up, meeting his darkened gaze as you leaned forward, eager to lose yourself to this shared desire, to feel him completely under your touch.

"Yes, I can't wait... I need you so badly," you breathed, voice barely a whisper as the heat of the moment took hold. Without hesitation, you slipped off your underwear, letting the last barrier between you fall away. Then, in a bold move, you guided him onto his back, your body moving to straddle him as you settled on top, now fully bare and exposed to each other.

"Let me do this first," you whispered, a gleam of mischief in your eyes as you shifted down between his legs. Leaning forward, you let your fingers wrap around his hard length, feeling the weight and warmth of him in your hand. Without another moment's pause, you lowered your mouth to him, tasting him with the first swipe of your tongue against his tip.

A low moan escaped you, savoring the taste of his pre-cum as you took him deeper, your lips enveloping him completely. Every movement was slow, deliberate, as your tongue swirled and caressed, your own desire stoked with every sound that escaped his lips. He shuddered beneath you, his hands finding their way into your hair, gripping gently, as if he, too, was lost in the pleasure of this shared surrender.

Tommy let out a deep, guttural groan, his eyes falling shut as he surrendered to the sensation, his head dropping back onto the pillows with a soft thud. His hand drifted down, fingers tangling into your hair, a gentle but possessive grip that urged you to continue, and the way he tugged at your tresses sent a shiver through you. You could feel him throb between your lips, his reactions only fueling your own desire.

You opened your eyes, glancing up to drink in the sight of him-his chest rising and falling, his face softened in sheer ecstasy. The sound of his groans was music to your ears, a confirmation of just how deeply you were affecting him. It sent another wave of warmth flooding between your thighs, and with renewed fervor, you moved your tongue faster, savoring every reaction, every tremor beneath your touch.

Your free hand drifted over his abdomen, tracing the hard lines of his muscles, then down his thigh, reveling in the heat radiating from his skin. He was completely yours in that moment, and you were determined to make him feel every ounce of your devotion.

With your cheeks hollowed, you took him deeper, slurping him in a greedy rhythm that made a shiver race up his spine. His head tilted forward, his gaze meeting yours, and the sight of him-his jaw tight, his nose flaring, and breaths coming in heavy, uneven bursts-was enough to set your heart racing even faster. Every inch of his expression was carved in pleasure, his features softened yet intense as he succumbed to the sensation.

"Fuck... your mouth feels so good..." he groaned, voice thick with need, fingers tightening in your hair as he held you firmly, yet with a tenderness that only made you sink further into the moment. You parted your jaw a bit more, taking him as deeply as you could, breathing steadily through your nose, feeling him fill you completely. Your tongue traced along his cock, swirling and savoring each inch, each throbbing pulse, until you were wholly intoxicated by his taste and his sounds, eager to drive him to the edge.

His hand reached for yours, his fingers finding and intertwining with yours in a tender gesture that made your stomach flutter. The warmth of his grip grounded you, intensifying the moment as you focused solely on bringing him pleasure. With every soft squeeze of your hand, you could feel how close he was, his body responding in subtle twitches, his breathing growing ragged as he hovered on the brink.

Just when you thought he might let go, he gently tugged your head back, his hand still tangled in your hair. "That's enough, love... I don't want to finish yet," he managed, voice thick with restraint. His chest rose and fell in uneven waves, each breath catching as he struggled to control himself. The way he looked at you-eyes dark and brimming with desire— made your pulse race, knowing that he was holding back, wanting this moment to last, wanting you for longer.

A faint pout graced your lips, your lipstick slightly smudged, glistening from the traces of him left behind. Undeterred, your hand continued its languid strokes along his length, savoring the way he pulsed in your grasp. Each subtle throb drew another low groan from him, his head tilting back, his restraint visibly tested. "Why not?" you murmured, your voice laced with a dazed disappointment. "I want to taste you." The plea hung heavy in the air, and though you could feel the hunger building in him too, his resolve held firm.

"Because," he growled, voice low and tense, "I want to make it last. If you keep going, it'll be over before I want it to be." His hand closed around your wrist, halting your movements with gentle insistence, his grip both a command and a confession of how much he was holding back.

A playful defiance sparked in your eyes as your hand slid to rest on his thigh, your fingers pressing in softly. "Don't act like you don't love watching my lips around your cock, Tommy." The words, a whispered challenge, hung between you, and the way his gaze darkened promised that he'd be making you pay for every teasing word.

Tommy's breath wavered, his resolve faltering under your touch. "Oh, believe me, I do," he replied, voice rough with desire, "but I have other things in mind for tonight."

He released your wrists and sat up, pulling you onto his lap, your thighs straddling his hips. Your heart raced as your bodies pressed together, his hands firm on your waist. The intensity of the moment stole your breath; you were finally here with the man you'd loved for so long. Each glance and touch held the weight of your history, and you could feel it in his grip, the promise of never letting go.

Your arms draped around his neck, foreheads touching as his hands glided down your sides, tracing the delicate curve of your ribs before settling on your hips. He gripped you tightly, his fingers digging into your flesh, igniting a spark of heat that coursed through you. You shifted your hips slightly, feeling the tension build between you, both of your hot breaths mingling in the air as you locked eyes.

Tommy positioned himself at your dripping entrance, his gaze intense and filled with longing. The world around you faded into nothingness, leaving only the two of you in this charged moment. Each heartbeat echoed in your ears, a reminder of how real this was. He was here with you, and you could feel the weight of that truth grounding you, binding you in this passionate embrace.

As if Tommy could sense your racing thoughts, he kissed you again-deeper this time. His tongue swept into your mouth, igniting a soft moan from your lips as waves of bliss coursed through your body. He pulled you closer, your bodies flush against each other, the heat radiating between you making your heart race. You could feel the warmth and firmness of his body pressed against you, and it only intensified your craving for him. Each kiss deepened the connection, each brush of his skin against yours sending sparks of desire spiraling through you, leaving you breathless and wanting more.

His hands roamed over your body, each caress possessive and hungry, as if he aimed to explore every inch of your skin, claiming you as his own. "Are you ready, darling?" he murmured against your lips, his voice low and hoarse with need. You broke the kiss but kept your face close to his, breathless with anticipation. "Yes… Tommy, please," you implored, your tone almost a whine. A smirk curled on his lips at your eagerness. "Such a needy thing," he teased lightly before guiding your hips down, causing you to sink onto him with a soft whimper. The sensation of him stretching you filled you with bliss, satisfying that deep ache within. Tommy released a guttural groan, pausing for a moment as you both reveled in the way your bodies molded together, a perfect fit that felt both overwhelming and intoxicating.

"You feel so good.." he groaned, burying his face in the crook of your neck, fingers digging into your hips as he guided your movements. Each thrust made you gasp, your body clenching tightly around him. "Oh, fuck, you're so tight... so wet. Of course your cunt is perfect, just like I imagined." The filthy words spilled from his lips, igniting a fierce blush across your cheeks. Your hands gripped his shoulders, unable to contain how your body responded to him, clamping down with a vice-like grip that sent waves of pleasure coursing through you.

Instinctively, your hips began to rock against his, moans escaping your lips in unsteady bursts, fueled by the urgency of your movements. "O-Oh my god..." you whimpered, breaths heaving as you leaned back slightly, desperately craving more of that delicious friction. Each thrust sent you spiraling deeper into a haze of ecstasy, the world outside fading away until there was only the two of you, lost in the heat of the moment.

"Yes, just like that, love..." Tommy panted, his icy blue eyes wild with desire. "You're doing so well, my darling. Keep going.." His words sent shivers down your spine, and long moans poured from your lips as you felt a familiar tension building in your stomach. Each thrust pushed him deeper, and you knew that if he kept talking to you like this while slamming into your cervix, you were teetering on the edge of bliss.

Tommy leaned back, laying against the bed, yet his hands remained firmly on your hips as you began to bounce against him. Each movement allowed him to sink deeper, and you couldn't help but release a loud cry of pleasure. The echo of wet flesh slapping against flesh filled the room, a beautiful symphony that only heightened your arousal as you coated him in a new layer of wetness. "F-Fucking hell, Tommy.." you sobbed, feeling vulnerable yet exhilarated, riding him relentlessly as you chased that peak. Your nails dug deeper into the flesh of his shoulders, each stroke requiring every ounce of strength left in your trembling legs. "I-I'm close, I'm close," you whimpered, overwhelmed by sensation as his hands gripped your hips tightly, guiding your rhythm and driving you further toward ecstasy.

"That's it," Tommy growled, his gaze locked onto you, reveling in the sight before him. His hands shifted from your hips to your swaying breasts, grasping them tightly and rolling your nipples between his fingers, sending shockwaves of pleasure coursing through you.

"Let me feel you come for me, love.." he demanded, his voice rough with need as he noticed the struggle on your face. With that, he began to buck his hips upward, fucking you fast and hard, his grip on your breasts unyielding.

Each thrust hit the deepest spots within you, awakening sensations you didn't even know existed.

The way he rubbed against your swollen clit sent you spiraling, causing you to sob louder in bliss, breathless as the air was stolen from your lungs. "Oh fuck! Oh fuck!" you cried out, the tension in your stomach growing unbearable. And just when you thought you couldn't take any more, it snapped, your body tightening around Tommy as your orgasm ripped through you, leaving you trembling and gasping. His low groan resonated in your ears, a testament to the pleasure you both shared in that intoxicating moment.

You felt your mind ascend into an euphoric high, closing your eyes as bliss washed over you. But Tommy wasn't done yet. In an instant, he flipped you over, pinning you beneath him. As he pulled out for a brief moment, a soft moan escaped your lips, your body still sensitive. A primal growl erupted from his throat as he lifted your legs, resting them on his shoulders before slipping back into you. Your body tensed slightly as you slowly began to come down from your high, the overwhelming sensations flooding back.

"T-Tommy..." you called out his name weakly, your eyes fluttering open to gaze up at him. The sight of him above you, driven by raw desire, sent shivers down your spine. Your body was trembling and utterly spent, the last orgasm still lingering in your system like an electric current. Yet, there was a hunger in his eyes, a fierce determination that made your heart race anew.

For Tommy, seeing you so undone, so utterly wrecked, sent a shiver down his spine. "There's more where that came from..." he grunted, determination igniting his every move. He began where he left off, his lips kissing a path down to your calf, igniting a trail of goosebumps in his wake. Then, he slammed his hips back against yours almost ruthlessly, causing your body to bounce against the mattress.

A rush of sensations overwhelmed you— pleasure and pain intertwined, and your back arched in response, cries of ecstasy spilling from your lips. "I know, love, I know... Just a little longer... Fuck.." he breathed out, his voice raw and filled with need as he maintained a relentless rhythm, snapping into you with a ferocity that left you gasping for breath. Each thrust drove you deeper into the haze, making every moment feel electric as you succumbed to the overwhelming intensity of it all.

The new sensation from this angle took Tommy's breath away, driving him to fuck you more roughly and deeply. Your eyes nearly rolled back in your head as you gripped the sheets beneath you, unable to control the screams escaping your lips, your body trembling in response to his relentless pace.

Everything became so intense; the world around you faded away, leaving only the two of you locked in this euphoric struggle. Tommy's free hand gripped your hip tightly, anchoring you in place while the other held your leg, pulling it closer as he thrust into you. Each powerful movement sent waves of pleasure coursing through both your bodies, the heat between you mounting unbearably.

His breath grew ragged, the sound of skin slapping against skin mixing with your cries, creating a primal symphony that echoed throughout the room. You could feel the tension building once more, a sweet, intoxicating pressure coiling within you as Tommy lost himself in the rhythm, driven by the need to take you to the edge and beyond.

The way your body felt against his, the sound of your voice-whimpering and gasping-drove him to the brink of madness. Each thrust made his dick throb inside you, eliciting soft whines from your lips as your body tightened around him. He moved in and out of you with a primal ease, the pleasure building between you. "You've always been so perfect for me," Tommy gasped, his voice raw with need. His movements grew uneven, the urgency mounting as his own release drew near.

His hand, which had been gripping your hip, slithered down between your legs, fingers finding your aching clit. When his thumb began to rub against it, you yelped loudly, your body shuddering in response. The overwhelming sensation was nearly too much to bear, leaving you breathless and begging for more, caught in the intoxicating waves of pleasure he was drawing from you.

"You're going to cum for me again? Fuck... like I said, so fucking perfect. I'm right there with you; l'm gonna cum, love..." Tommy groaned, his hips moving even faster against you. Each thrust sent shocks of pleasure coursing through your body, causing you to sob out once more. Your head spun as the sensations overwhelmed you-his relentless pounding and the rhythmic pressure of his thumb on your clit ignited a fire within you.

"Oh my god! Oh my god, Tommy!" you cried out, feeling your orgasm approach with no warning. It hit you like a wave, crashing over you and leaving you squirming beneath him, but he held you firm, guiding you through the peak of your release. His movements became frantic, breaths turning into labored gasps as he neared his own climax.

Tommy released a guttural growl, his body tensing, every muscle straining as he surrendered to the pleasure. Words escaped him, replaced by raw, primal sounds as he teetered on the edge, both of you lost in the intoxicating rhythm of your connection.

"I'm cumming," he gasped, his voice guttural and raw. "And you're going to fucking take it..." His words sent shivers down your spine, making you whimper weakly. Your mind was so hazed with pleasure that you couldn't muster the strength to respond. With a few more powerful thrusts, Tommy shuddered, finally reaching his climax. He spilled his hot cum inside you with a satisfied groan, igniting a wave of warmth that washed over you. Another soft whimper escaped your lips as you felt the intimate flood within you, your heart racing wildly in your chest. Gently, he placed your legs down before pulling out, leaving you both breathless, bodies entwined in the aftermath of your shared ecstasy.

Tenderly, Tommy laid on top of you, resting his head against your chest, sighing contentedly as if being in your arms was his safe haven. You sweetly ran your fingers through his hair, both of you catching your breath after the intensity of your escapade.

"Did you mean it?" you asked, your voice raspy from the moans that had escaped your lips. Tommy lay still for a moment, tensing slightly, the weight of your question hanging in the air.

"Yes..." he answered quietly, his body gradually melting into yours, bringing a sense of wholeness that enveloped you both. This moment would be etched into your memory, a sacred experience to cherish for the rest of your life.

"I've always loved you..." he added, the sincerity in his voice filling your heart with warmth.

The air around you felt electric, thick with the unspoken bond you shared. You pulled him closer, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat against your chest, a comforting reminder of his presence.

"Then let's make this real.."

***

It has finally been finished— poured all of my sweat and tears into this. I hope you guys enjoyed this! thank you guys for reading!

[sl-newsie]

My biggest strength is my biggest curse.

Imagination.

For the rest of my life it will plague me.

Writing stories of passion and romance that will never be real.

Never can be real.

I spin tales of love and in doing so I doom myself for thinking I could ever be the lucky character in my own story.

[i-understand-vangogh]

these are my baby boys.

“i need them in a way that’s offensive to feminism” broski nation

[solomons-finest-rum]

Saga!! You’re baaaack!! Lovely to see you around these parts again hun 😘 If you’re in the writing mood, can I interest you in a little gif of our favourite Camden based reprobate as inspiration? 😉 xxx

Thank you love! Good to be back (and make my favourite Camden gangster talk nonsense in my fics 🤭🤭🤭)

“Alfie…”

“That is still a ‘no’, luv, all right, and that is final.”

“Alfie Solomons, I am your wife!”

“Playin’ the wife card, are we, right, but two can play this game, sweetheart, yeah? Now, I ain’t one to play dirty, right, and don’t you roll those pretty eyes of yours at me, ‘cause I know what you’re about to say next and the answer’s still bloody ‘no’!”

“Alfie, I am begging you…!”

“Oh, now she’s beggin’, ain’t she, isn’t that a clever thing to do to your husband, right, makin’ ‘im feel all sorts of notions just to win the argument, right, now listen to me, Mrs. Solomons, you women are a clever little breed, right, entirely overlooked and undervalued, yeah, I realise that, luv, an’ I can see that ‘cause you yourself are exceptionally clever, my love, so much so that you went an’ married a clever man, right, a trait that doesn’t apply too often to my kind… There she goes and rolls her eyes again, bloody hell, come back here, woman!”

“No!”

“Come back here at once, ya vexin’ creature, an’ no stompin’ on the bloody stairs, you’ll wake the dogs!”

“Don’t bring the dogs into this!”

“I’ll do as I damn well please in my own fuckin’ house that I paid for!”

“You, Alfie Solomons, are unbelievable!”

“Thank you.”

“That wasn’t a compliment and you know it!”

“Hush now, luv, let’s not argue, right, ‘cause I can take no more of this–”

“Alfie!”

“Right, an’ I can be the bigger person here, darlin’, and to say I love an’ cherish you more than life itself would be an understatement–”

“Unbelievable!”

“So I forgive ya.”

“Go to hell!”

“How many times must I tell ya I already got the ticket done and paid for?!”

“I swear on my brothers, Alfie, I will join you there, because I’ll bloody go and murder my own husband if his nonsense continues!”

“Right! Fuck! Now that right there is just fuckin’ brilliant, right, ‘cause your lovin’ brother is what started the whole fuckin’ thing!”

“Alfie Solomons, you put on a clean shirt right this instance and accompany me to my brother’s wedding or I swear to God, I’ll gut ya with a butter knife!”

“John bloody Shelby gets married at least every other October, what fuckin’ difference does it make if I come or not?!”

“You take that back!”

“Why should I fuckin’ take it back, right, if it’s true?!”

“A butter knife, Alfie Solomons, I swear to God!”

“Naaah, but do ya promise, dearest?! ‘Cause it’s a lovely set your Tommy got us for our anniversary, shame if it fuckin’ goes to waste…! What are ya laughin’ about now?”

“Nothin’… Oh God, Alfie, I bloody love you, you know that?”

“That a trick or somethin’…?”

“No! I just… God, Tommy always said I took after Polly, I just never knew how much… This is bloody ridiculous.”

“Right, you… Right, stop laughin’, woman, you’re bloody ridiculous, stand still… Now your lipstick’s all over the– an’ what was that for?”

“I love you, Alfie Solomons.”

“Right, now, I love ya too, alright, even though you Shelbys are all equally fuckin’ crazy...”

“You knew what you married into.”

“That I bloody did.”

[strayrockette]

A Daughter Who Loves

A Daughters Letter

Masterlist

A/N: I can’t believe I’m finally knocking this one out of my drafts! I’m so happy to no longer see it sitting there taunting me to finish it😂 hope you guys enjoy ❤️please comment, like and reblog❤️

Summary: Takes place a couple years after the initial meeting with the unnamed soldier. You’ve found a new life for yourself far away from the unresolved trauma and issues of your past.

Dearest Father,

I used to love you. I still love you. But if news got around that you were dead, it wouldn't hurt as much as losing Mother. The worst part about loving you...is knowing that we'll never be a true family.

Despite it all, I must thank you.

-

The pen stilled in her hand. For the first time in years, her mind had failed to slather seething words upon the awaiting canvas. Y/N’s eyes drifted to the open window of the study.

The study was a room of serene contradiction, a place where history and modernity danced together. Heavy oak bookshelves lined the walls, filled with leather-bound volumes that whispered of the past. A large, mahogany desk sat in the center, its surface cluttered with papers, a brass inkstand, and a small, framed photograph of her and Thomas Shelby. The rich, dark wood contrasted sharply with the lighter tones of the pale, floral wallpaper, giving the room an air of understated elegance.

Through the tall, arched windows, the view of Arrow House's sprawling grounds unfolded in tranquil splendor. The vast acre of land stretched out like a lush green carpet, dotted here and there with the vibrant colors of blooming flowers. The manicured lawns seemed to reach out to the horizon, framed by clusters of ancient oak and chestnut trees. A winding gravel path meandered through the grounds, leading to a quaint stone bridge over a gentle brook. The distant hum of life from the village beyond was faint, almost like an afterthought, allowing the peaceful solitude of the estate to take center stage.

The study’s window was open just enough to let in a fresh breeze that rustled the heavy, velvet drapes. The scent of earth and flowers mingled with the cool air, creating a soothing atmosphere. It was in this moment of calm that Y/N found her thoughts drifting back to her father, whose presence was now as distant as the last whisper of the city’s bustling streets.

The room was silent except for the occasional chirping of birds and the distant chime of the grandfather clock in the hallway, marking the passage of time with a gentle, rhythmic insistence. Y/N's gaze lingered on the horizon, her mind grappling with the complexities of her feelings. The serenity of the estate contrasted sharply with the turbulent emotions that swirled within her, a reminder of the painful distance between the past and the present.

She took a deep breath, feeling the weight of her emotions lift slightly with the breeze. For now, the letter remained unfinished, an echo of her unresolved feelings. But in this moment of stillness, she found a semblance of peace in the quiet beauty of the land outside.

Her husband, Thomas Shelby, entered the study with the quiet confidence that was uniquely his. The door swung open just enough to admit his tall frame, and his eyes, sharp and calculating as ever, softened when they fell upon her. He crossed the room with his usual deliberate stride, his polished black shoes making a subtle, almost reverent sound on the wooden floor.

Y/N, lost in the tranquil view from the window, had been sitting in the study for a while. Her thoughts had wandered to a time long past, a time when her life had intersected with the Shelby brothers.

Thomas’s presence was a welcome interruption, though it took her a moment to shift her attention from the peaceful scenery to him. He placed a warm, familiar hand on her shoulder, a touch that carried the weight of his love and the assurance of his support. His voice, though low and steady, held a note of playful affection as he spoke. “Love, are you planning on joining us for dinner with the family tonight?”

His words were like a lifeline to the present, pulling her from the swirl of past grievances and into the here and now. She looked up at him, her lips curving into a faint, mischievous smile.

“Dinner with the Shelby clan?” she teased, her eyes twinkling with a mix of affection and amusement. “Is that the same family that turns every meal into a battleground? I’m surprised they’re all in the same room at once. Last I heard, you lot were still debating over who got first dibs on my chocolate chip cookies.”

Thomas chuckled, a rich, rumbling sound that seemed to resonate with the room’s deep, warm tones. He leaned in closer, his breath brushing her ear as he spoke. “It’s not quite a battleground, though it can be lively. But I promise, it’s not all chaos. We have a few moments of civility before it all kicks off.”

Y/N laughed softly, the sound light and unburdened. “Well, in that case, I suppose I can brave the family dinner. Someone has to keep you all in line.”

Thomas’s gaze softened, and he gently squeezed her shoulder before releasing her. “Glad to hear it. I wouldn’t want to face them alone.”

As he turned to leave, Y/N watched him go, feeling a renewed sense of connection to the life she was building with him. The letter and the unresolved emotions of the past seemed to drift away, if only for a moment, replaced by the comforting reality of the present and the anticipation of a shared future.

She returned her gaze to the window, the sprawling grounds of Arrow House now seeming even more serene in the quiet aftermath of their conversation. The promise of a lively family dinner ahead brought a new layer of anticipation to her day, a reminder of the vibrant life she was now a part of.

In her reflective mood, Y/N thought back to her time as a nurse during World War I, when her path had first crossed with the Shelby brothers. It felt like a lifetime ago, those days spent tending to the wounded in a makeshift field hospital. Each brother had come through her care, their lives touched by the trauma of war. Thomas, Arthur, and John—each had been a different story, each had left a mark on her heart.

She remembered the late nights spent in the dimly lit wards, the quiet conversations that had unfolded amidst the beeping of machines and the rustling of sheets. Thomas had been the most reserved, his eyes betraying the weight of his experiences even as he tried to mask it with a veneer of stoic bravery. Arthur had been volatile, his wounds reflecting the turmoil within, while John had been more approachable, his easy smile a rare comfort in those dark times.

Y/N had tended to their injuries with a professionalism that masked her own fears and uncertainties. In the midst of the chaos, she had been a silent witness to their struggles and their unspoken camaraderie. The war had been a crucible that tested their mettle, and she had seen firsthand the bonds that had formed between them, forged in the fires of adversity.

As she sat in the study, the weight of those memories mingled with the serene beauty of the present. The sprawling grounds of Arrow House, with its manicured lawns and distant trees, seemed like a world apart from the grim reality of the wartime hospital. Yet, it was here, in this peaceful setting, that she had found a new chapter in her life.

The juxtaposition of past and present was not lost on her. She had moved from the sterile, oppressive environment of wartime care to the warm, welcoming embrace of her new life with Thomas. The contrast was stark, yet she embraced it with a sense of gratitude and acceptance. The Shelby family, for all their complexity and dysfunction, had become a part of her world, and she had become a part of theirs.

As Y/N glanced once more at the window, the promise of the evening’s dinner seemed to symbolize more than just a family gathering. It was a testament to the journey she had undertaken, a journey that had brought her from the battlefields of war to the hearth of Arrow House. The anticipation of the dinner ahead was a reminder of the new beginnings and the connections she had forged along the way.

Dearest Father,

The man I love has given me much more than I anticipated. I no longer ache at the thought of what could have been for my former family. I no longer wonder and question if I have a place in the world. Because I have found it beside the one man who has yet to let me down.

My heart is filled with love and warmth I have never felt. My days are spent basking in affection and care that you were unable to give. I am…happier than ever.

But I wish you were here, to see the women I have become. To know that, I am loved and cared for.

Sincerely,

A daughter who no longer grieves you.

_

tag list: @mysticalpandora @ultimatreality @lovecleastrange @watercolorskyy @rockerchick05 @lyarr24

[call-sign-shark]

Day 2: Cut Your Wings || Alfie Solomons x Reader

Requested by a lovely Anon 🖤

TW: Kinktober prompt- cut, dubcon, blood, inflected pain, masturbation?, enemies with sexual tension, canonical violence, dirty talk, sexual torture, kidnapping

Words: 2K

Notes: This work is a part of the Peaky Kinktober Event you can find here. Comment on the event post if you want to be tagged in the future works for Kinktober. Also this one ain't as smutty as I thought because I got carried away by the narrative?? Shark please, that ain't the goal of Kinktober??

A grunt escaped from your lips as you desperately tried to free yourself from the heavy shackles imprisoning your wrists. You moved them back and forth, then left and right, turning your hands in every position possible, and yet nothing worked. The handcuffs were too tight for you to slip from them. Another painful moan echoed in the damp and dark room of the distillery in which the jew's henchmen had locked you a few hours ago. The cold metal bit your flesh again. "Fuck". When loud footsteps resounded behind the heavy wooden door of your prison, you swallowed the lump that had formed in your throat and prayed to God for a quick and painless death because you knew that Alfie Solomons wasn't a forgiving man. Quite the contrary, his quick temper, and frightening antics only fueled his reputation as one of the most dangerous criminals in London.

"So that's the fucking little rat my men told me about." He stated, standing in the middle of the open door, both of his hands resting on the handle of his cane and a black hat hiding one of his hazel gray eyes.

"Fuck you, fucking cunt! When Tommy will know about this y'all going to regret it!" Words passed your thoughts, spitting their venom at him and yet the man remained silent. You even wondered if he had paid attention to what you just said or if the voices in his head were louder than yours. His gaze, intense and unfathomable, was observing you attentively as if he was trying to decipher the secrets of the most unique precious stone he had even held in his palm. After what seemed to be an eternity, Alfie Solomons pursued his lips, stroked his scruffy beard, and nodded, coming to an agreement with himself.

"See, my mates here told me that Tommy Shelby had sent a few men to London, but here's the problem – He said 'men'. And not 'little girl', which is definitely what you are. A bloody and nosey little girl. Hmhm." He agreed with his own statement before walking to the dusty furniture that was leaning against one of the brick walls. Then, he took off his hat and his long dark coat, and put the cane aside before walking towards you. He stopped in front of you, tattooed arms crossed on his muscular chest. The unusual amount of greenish ink deeply engraved in his skin caught your attention for a short while, you curiously observing the pattern it formed. Of course, both Tommy and Arthur had tattoos, but not as many as the mad baker.

"Would you look at ya. Haven't you something else to do instead of following a Birmingham scumbag's orders? Like finding yourself a man or something like this, y'know. 'Cause I don't see why such a young lass like ya puts her own life into danger for Tommy fucking Shelby." As he talked, Alfie had closed the distance between you and him. He was now leaning above you, so close that his scorching breath was fanning over your skin and the hairs of his beard were almost tickling your face. "So can you tell me why? The only reason I see is that Tommy Shelby sticks his cock in you and it has magically bred some loyalty." The right corner of his full lips curled into a mocking grin when he noticed how his words had lit a fire of rage in your eyes. Bang on, he thought, "No. It's more complex than that, innit? He doesn't want you and yet you remained devoted to him in the hope that one day, maybe, he'd look at you differently. He'd look at you like a woman to fuck senseless and not a pawn of his game."

"Kill me, Solomons. Kill me now or I'll fucking cut you once I'll be out of this shit-stinking place." You hissed, baring your teeth like a cornered animal, the truth hurting you more than a gunwound. For a split second, Alfie swore you would have dug your fangs into his throat, sinking them deep until you tasted blood if you hadn't been restrained by chains and handcuffs.

"Cut me?" The baker repeated these two words, pretending to be surprised while the tone in his voice betrayed how amused he was, "And what kind of tool would you use to cut me? This?" As he said so, Alfie pulled your grey beret out of the large pocket of his trousers, holding it to have a good grip at the base of the razor blades that were sewn to the fabric. "You Peaky girl like to cut people with this right? So come on, threaten me again little bird, I dare you." He said with both of his eyebrows raised in a taunting expression.

"D'ya think you're scaring me? I'm not scared, I'm a Peaky Blinder and I'm going to make things clear again: you better kill me now because if you miss this chance, I'll fucking cut your face the next time we meet–" You didn't finish your sentence, your words replaced by a scream of pain when Alfie, without a single warning, slashed your arm with your peaky cap. Blood soon filled the gash and overflowed from it, soaking the white fabric of your shirt in a crimson stain.

"Go ahead, dove. Say it again." This time you remained silent, staring at him in horror. He had cut deep, deep enough for you to feel the sickening pulse of your own heart in the wound. Your refusal to obey led Alfie to burst into an unexpected rage. His face reddened, and his brows furrowed, casting their shadow eyes. With one strong and brutal movement, Alfie's free hand grabbed your face, his calloused fingers sinking into your cheeks until your jaw hurt. "SAY IT AGAIN AND I'LL CUT YOUR FUCKING WINGS!" He barked, a bit of spit spilled in his beard and bloodshot eyes staring at your very soul. "See, you don't stand a chance here my sweet dove. You're just a little girl playing gangsters". In an unsettling mood swing, his temper had gone quiet again.

"I'm not gonna kill you peaky girl, that would be too easy. I see your eyes, and what I see in them is that you ain't afraid of death and I reckon this is a trait I particularly fancy in someone. So what should I do with you? We might..." He made a short pause when he noticed a tiny detail he hadn't spotted before. Alfie's hazel grey eyes abandoned yours and dropped to your bosom where he could see the round shape of your hardened nipples pointing through the fabric of your shirt. Licking his lips, Alfie's iris darkened with mischief and something you never expected to witness in the eyes of an enemy – lust. An unpleasant shiver ran down your spine as the baker's smirk suddenly turned into a wicked and threatening smile, "I know, dove. I know what I'm going to do with you. Everything's clear in my mind". A sparkle of pure madness enlightened his face, just like an artist struck by inspiration. With his words followed his hand, that came meeting your trembling body. His strong palm roamed all over you, the friction it created snatching a whimper from your tight throat while you understood his obscene plans.

"No, no! Please! Alfie--" You wanted to scream but you couldn't, petrified from the moment his fingers trailed down your belly and ended their exploration between your legs. The noisy juggling of the chains you produced by struggling sounded like a melody in Alfie's ears, who hummed in satisfaction at your cunt's warmth he could feel through the fabric of your trousers. His fingers pressed a bit more against your core, shooting a wave of forbidden arousal through your entire body and making your legs shake.

"You're in heat, lil' dove." He noted with an amused tone before closing the distance between your ear and his lips. You squeezed your eyes shut at the overwhelming scratching sensation of his gruff beard against your skin and the blazing blast of his breath. The room spun as you found yourself intoxicated by the fragrance of his cologne. Musky, and with a dab of cedarwood. His scent was as raw and wild as him. "I'm pretty sure you're all wet, aren't you?" He cooed in your ear. His rough fingers, applying pressure at the exact spot where your throbbing clit was, started to rub it in slow and circular motions. As much as you hated the thought of it, his skillful caresses lit a fire of desire within you, so much that you felt your own wetness soaking your panties, "How long since a man stretched that lonely pussy?"

"Don't touch me!" You growled, but as convincing as you had tried to sound convincing you still failed judging by how Alfie's brow arched. He let out a dark chuckle. Doing the exact opposite, his fingers kept fondling your sensitive bud but this time his wet and warm tongue licked your neck just like a predator would do to get a first taste of his freshly caught prey.

"Oh I'm not gonna touch you dove." The muffled sound of your cap falling on the concrete ground made you open your eyes again. You had barely lifted your eyelids when your gaze met Alfie's other hand, who was kneading his massive bulge. As afraid as you were, you could not help but let out a soft yet needy moan "I'm not gonna touch you. What I'm going to do cannot be described, no no it can't because I don't want God to hear it. What I can tell you though is that you'll never come back to Birmingham once you'll know the feeling of my cock buried deep inside you." His words' immediate effects upon you had your teased pussy clenching onto nothing and reminding you how desperately empty you were. An emptiness Tommy would never fill, "Are you thinking about him now?"

You weren't.

Alfie didn't need you to answer, for the way you brought your hips closer to his fingers and grind against them was enough. The mad baker's mouth sucked on the sensitive flesh of your neck, pinching it between his lips to leave a bright red mark on you, claiming his newly acquired property. All these sensations soon became unbearable: the friction of your shirt against your erected tits, the cold bite of the handcuffs on your wrists, and the increasingly faster rubbing of your clit destroyed what remained of your will of fighting. Never in your life you had been touched for you had always kept your virginity unspoiled for Thomas. A stupid and fruitless devotion.

You gave in to the pleasure and surprised yourself by thinking about how big Alfie's dick looked, unable to look anywhere else.

"Don't s-stop." You muttered under your breath, your climax building as Alfie kept assaulting your sweet bundle of nerves: he was nothing but gentle with it, almost hurting you with how rough he rubbed you. With your mouth parted and your breath quickening, you felt the delightful warmth of an orgasm coming but, all of sudden, Alfie stopped.

"Enough for today. We'll see if you deserve more tomorrow." He said.

If you have appreciated what you've just read please take the time to reblog and/or comment. Your reactions are the real fuel and motivation of writers.

tags: @emotionalcadaver @peakyswritings @mollybegger-blog @hwangrimi @munson24 @tommyshelbywhore @devotedlyshadowytheorist @stevie75 @brummiereader @triplethreat77 @sebastianstangirl01 1 @izzy10369 @kimvolturicullen @peakyltd

[cillianmesoftlyyy]

Wary Sailor Pt. 4 | Matthew Joy x fem!reader

summary: She isn't good for him, but she keeps coming back. What is a man like Matthew Joy meant to do??

warnings: smut, aggression, dubious consent, fingering, penetration, unprotected sex, trust issues lol.

word count: 2574k

Dream Sweet in Sea Major- Miracle Musical 🎶

Another shout out to @everandforeveryours for feeding me inspiration. 1 more part coming... maybe 2? I have an ending in mind for sure!

Matthew awoke with a soft gasp as he felt his body start to fall as he slept. He was still sitting against the wall but had slumped over and forced himself awake. His hands kneaded the straw mattress as he tried to gather his bearings. The whale oil lamp was turned down low so the room was dark and stuffy. Matthew felt sore and feverish after being thrown overboard. He couldn’t get sick, not now. It would be a death sentence to the whole crew. 

Weakly, Matthew lowered himself down onto the mattress and covered himself with the wool blanket. His back spasmed as he did so and he gritted his teeth to keep from gasping in pain. His dark brown hair was plastered against his forehead and he looked more pale than usual. Even his freckles were pale, as if his coloring had been ironed flat. Closing his eyes again, Matthew tried to fall asleep. He returned to the dream he’d been having before with a peculiar quickness. 

In his dream he could see Y/N lying on a rock, surrounded by waves. She was in her human-form and wearing a white dress like a little girl. Beyond her, Matthew spotted a sperm whale breaching the surface for air. Its blowhole sent a spray of water and grime into the air. The girl looked at the way over her shoulder. When the whale finally descended again, she turned and looked right at Matthew. Suddenly, he was there on the rock with her. She could see him and speak to him. Looking between his eyes for a moment, she took a breath and warned him. 

Beware the white whale. 

…

When he woke up again, he looked around the small cabin in confusion. Something else had woken him up this time. Through his squinted eyes he could see only light and shadows, moving with the motion of the ship. He heard the door open, the latch having not been properly secured. It fell open slightly and Matthew could just see into the corridor outside the Captain’s quarters. He forced himself to stand and staggered across the floor to the crude door. As his hand found the handle and started to pull it closed, a hand helped him close it.

He was too tired to react when he turned his head, seeing her standing there beside him, her hand helping him close the door. She was once again in her human-form, her pale legs iridescent with droplets of water. She wore a nicer dress than she had the first time he’d seen her. It was still white but it had long sleeves and ended at her knees. Her neckline plunged deep enough to allow Matthew a view of her glistening sternum. Her hair was braided down her back in a long braid. 

“How did you get in here?” Matthew could only think to ask. His eyes traveled up her body despite his best efforts. Before she responded, she closed and latched the door. When she faced him, her eyes were downcast as if she were embarrassed. Matthew took a deep breath and skipped to his next question, one that seemed more relevant, 

“Why are you here?” He asked and watched as she removed her hand from his and turned away. As she moved away, he felt himself reach for her. His hand gripped her upper arm and pulled her back to face him. Her green eyes rose to meet his gaze and they were wet with old tears. His fingers tightened around the fleshy part of her arm, seeming to forget that she wasn’t human like he was and couldn’t feel the same pain. 

“I said, why are you here Y/N?” His voice was harsher as he spoke through his teeth, “you made it clear the last time we spoke that we couldn’t be together, and yet, here you are… again.” As he said the last sentence, his eyes softened. Despite his best attempts, he loved the girl in front of him, her contradictions and all. 

“I made a mistake… I’m making one now too,” her voice was soft and distracted. She wasn’t making much sense. His grip loosened and she exhaled slowly, her eyes turning fully to hold his gaze. 

“I hope you can understand how much I love you and why that means we can’t be together. Can you see I did what I did because I love you? I’m trying to keep you alive…” 

“Then why do you keep coming back?” He looked her up and down, his heart racing as she licked her lips. 

“I don’t know.” She answered his question honestly and looked between his eyes. Matthew sighed and looked up at the ceiling. He pinched the bridge of his nose and tucked his other hand across his bare chest. His shoulders slumped slightly and his stomach contracted after each breath. His body was sore but he still managed to pull the girl violently to him and kiss her. She was weak in his hold as he held her up on the balls of her feet. His hands held her arms down at her side but it’s not like she was trying to get away. 

He was kissing her so hard that her head was forced back against the wall behind her. Their breathing became heavy as they kissed, teeth pulling at lips and tongues. Pausing for only a moment, Matthew ripped her dress from her body. The fabric split down her chest and slipped down to her feet. 

“Didn’t you know, love? It’s bad luck for a woman to be clothed on a ship,” Matthew went back to kissing her, hauling her away from the wall in his sore arms. He hissed against her lips when he tossed her on the small bunk. 

“Matthew, you’re hurt…” she sat up on her elbows, her brow furrowed. 

“It’s nothing. Just bruising,” Matthew explained in a whisper and leaned over her, his wrists supporting his weight on the mattress. His kiss was slower and softer now that she was on his bed, lying below him. Her hands tenderly explored the muscles on his chest and felt as his muscles contracted below each movement of her finger. 

“God, look at you,” Matthew groaned against her cheek. His hands took her waist and situated her body where he wanted it on the bed. His arm brushed against her bare breast as he moved his hands back to her arms. Matthew pinned her hands above her head against the wreath of her dark hair. 

“I need you… I’d give anything for you,” his breath was hot and heavy against her neck. He kissed her skin, making her peach fuzz stand on end where he kissed. 

“You already have me, sailor.” 

As she said it, Matthew pulled his face back and looked into her pale green eyes. His chest rose and fell so close above her breasts that she could feel the heat from his body. 

“No, not yet but I will.” He responded seriously and let his eyes wander down her body to her knees. With one of his hands, Matthew aggressively spread the girl’s legs and wrapped them around his hips. He’d already had her before but it felt new again as he pressed his erection against her wet cunt. Gasping softly, she pushed against him and moved her hips in a circle. Matthew took his hand and forced two fingers into the girl’s open mouth. She sucked them gently as he kept holding her down. 

“There, that’s it, love.”

Then, removing his fingers from her mouth, Matthew penetrated her with his middle and pointer fingers. He used his thumb to rub her clit, his pressure hard and unforgiving. The girl below him whimpered as he worked her walls into a stretch. The sensation of her natural lubricant on his fingers made his erection even more painful as it strained against his pants. Once he had worked her up enough where she was red in the face and panting, he removed his fingers and sucked them clean. In the next second, Matthew pulled down his pants and teased himself on her entrance. 

“God, just put it in already!” She whimpered before Matthew clapped his hand across her mouth, silencing her. 

“Be quiet, love.” His dark eyelashes fluttered when he finally pushed inside of her. Somehow it was even better than their first time. Matthew hissed loudly as he completely filled her up, hitting the base of her uterus before slowly pulling out again. His back was already spasming from the effort and he tried to ignore it as he thrusted a second time. Sensing that he was losing strength, she pushed him off and forced him back down in her old place.  

“You can still have me, sailor, but perhaps in another way?” She suggested with a shy smile. Still smiling with lust, Matthew smirked and caught on to her meaning. 

“Show me, love,” he nodded and held both of her fleshy hips as she rose on her knees, finding his cock with one of her hands. Holding it straight, the girl lowered herself onto it and nearly gasped out loud. Matthew shushed her kindly and helped guide her down, supporting her so she could go slow. 

“Damn, it feels so fucking good.” Matthew threw his head back, his Adam's apple poking up as he swallowed. He quickly raised it again so he could watch the girl begin to move with more flexibility. She twisted her hips and moved back and forth, working quiet moans from the both of them. She covered her own mouth as she kept up her pace on his cock. She could feel him leak around her, making the base of his cock wet with their sweat and precum. 

She supported herself by pushing one hand against one of his pectoral muscles. Matthew offered her additional support by moving one of his hands to her elbow. Her eyes screamed out in thanks as she changed pace, snapping her hips down and bouncing up and down on her knees. 

“There you go, love. You know just what to do, don’t you?” He gave her a soft laugh and wrapped her hair around his hand, holding it away from her back. Using her hair, he pulled her down to his lips and rubbed his nose against her’s. 

“Do you know how much I love you?” He asked her between their whines. When she didn’t respond, Matthew kissed her. He breathed in through his nose and she nearly melted below his mouth as he bit her bottom lip. 

“I don’t know you at all, and yet, I love you more than anything,” he told her when he released her fat lip. Her eyes poured into his as she sped up her hips. Matthew began to thrust up into her, losing control of his body. She was so wet around him that he could hear the movement of his cock inside her, through layers of muscle and bone. 

“Ride me until the end, love.”

The Siren nodded and arched her back. Matthew grabbed her hand and watched as she worked herself up to a blinding climax. His groans slipped into quiet moans and exhales as she squeezed around him, prompting his own orgasm. They both stifled their shouts of pleasure and stumbled through their climaxes, swapping cum. Finally, she leaned forward again and waited for him to speak. Matthew brushed her hair away from her face and pulled her to his chest. Pulling out as he did, she collapsed against his chest. She could feel every muscle in his chest as she rested her cheek on his body. His heart was racing, the same as hers. 

She rolled over and allowed her head to rest upon his bicep. Matthew rolled his head to the side and watched her. Her lips were parted as she caught her breath. They were both naked save the short breeches caught between Matthew’s legs. Sweat sparkled on the girl’s body, catching his attention. Though he was tired, Matthew propped himself up beside her and lowered his face to her stomach, licking the drops of sweat from her skin. She tasted like salt, both from her body and from the sea. His nose trailed the curvature of muscle leading from her sternum to her navel. The Siren’s hand cupped the back of his freckled neck and ran up into his dark brown hair. She tugged affectionately and petted him like a dog, encouraging a smile from the man above her. 

“I don’t think I have ever loved the ocean more,” Matthew whispered between long drawn out licks. “For having made you was the greatest gift of all.” 

“Quiet now, sailor. Come here and kiss me,” the girl smiled and giggled as Matthew did as she requested, pressing his lips against hers. 

…

“I should leave now, before dawn,” Y/N’s voice broke the calm silence between them. Matthew turned his face to process her sentence. With a disappointed nod, he sat up in the bunk and buttoned his pants. 

“I’ll walk you to the railing.” 

By then, his clothes had dried where he laid them the day before. Having ripped the dress from her body, the Siren was naked, so Matthew handed her his shirt and helped her tie the front laces. 

“It’s bad luck for a woman to wear clothes on a ship,” Y/N laughed softly at Matthew who shrugged his head to the side. 

“That’s true… but it’s only for a moment,” Matthew pursed his lips in faux-thought. Hand in hand, Matthew led her up to the deck of the Essex. Dawn hadn’t breached the horizon but the skin had brightened enough to see a few feet in front of them. The men would be up and working soon, recovering from the storm. She started to mount the railing when Matthew stopped her. 

“Wait, before you go… I had the oddest dream about you and… and a white whale. It’s the same whale the Captain has been chasing, the one that even Owen is beginning to obsess over. They both see it as a trial of some kind. Anyway, you told me to ‘beware.’ Do you know such a whale?” 

She furrowed her brow and nodded worriedly. 

“Yes, I do. Matthew, it’s a red herring. Whatever you do, don’t let these men try to best the beast. You will never win against nature. You can never win against something like me… something born of the sea-”

Voices rose from below the deck and Matthew checked over his shoulder. 

“Promise me you won’t join them in this madness,” her hand grasped his and squeezed painfully tight. 

“I have no control over them-”

“Then make them listen. You must promise, promise that you’ll try.” 

Matthew furrowed his dark eyebrows and took a sharp breath. 

“I promise…” 

“Joy!” 

Matthew turned. She was gone. 

“What the hell are you doing above deck?” One of the deckhands greeted him with a smile and a gentle pat on the back which was still bright purple with bruising. 

“The storm has passed,” Matthew could only think to say and gestured to the calmer sea. 

“For now, I heard Owen saying the Captain wants to chase it, he thinks the whale is following it too.” 

“Where is the Captain?” Matthew’s voice darkened. 

“In his quarters, sir.” 

“Right, watch the horizon. I’ll be back.”

....

End of Pt. 4!

[tickettride]

Like real people do

Alfie Solomons x Fem!OC

[warnings: war trauma, slight violence, OC is getting followed by a creep, cursing, angst, mentions of death.

AN: I wrote this first chapter weeks ago when I still had no idea where this would lead, and it's surely the most cliché of all. I really, really love it though. I hope you do too.]

— one

May 1928, London

The contact of your palm against the man’s jaw echoed through the silent street, louder than the pigeon's fluttering wings as it startled into flight. You froze for a second, not quite believing you had really slapped a stranger—though he deserved it—and suddenly took off, running like you had never done before across the slippy cobblestones. Your heart threatened to burst out of your chest, but you didn’t stop. With one glance behind, you cursed when you saw his short frame getting closer, racing behind you.

He’d get you and do more than call you a whore, wouldn’t he? The mere thought made you stumble over your feet when you took a sharp turn, nearly falling face down into a puddle. 

“You fuckin’ bitch!”

A whimper escaped your throat. It felt like you were merely running anymore, just taking large steps that would be enough to get you killed, one hand holding your hat on top of your head. There was only one solution left if you wanted to escape the man: burst through the first door you found and try to hide. The sun was setting already; now wasn’t the right moment to get lost. 

And burst through a random door you did. You slammed it behind you with trembling hands, the back of your head thudding against the wood as you leaned against it. 

It was only when you opened your eyelids that you saw the men standing across the room, visibly interrupted. You couldn’t discern their faces due to the lack of light, but you knew you had cut into something important anyway. 

A faint smell of alcohol lingered in the air, but you didn’t focus on that. You stared at the shadows crammed between barrels, gasping breaths as you tried to think of what to do. Open the door again and head out, where the other one was waiting? Pretend you were lost? 

“You are…?”

Flinching at the voice addressing you, you licked your lips nervously and cleared your throat.

“Lost,” you said, which made the shorter man scoff. 

“Clearly.”

“I didn’t mean to interrupt,” you added, your left hand growing closer to the doorknob where freedom might await you if you were lucky enough. 

Though you knew you were trapped in here too, and luck was a foreign concept. It made no doubt when the tallest one limped over to you, his burly frame causing you to swallow down any other stupid word that might come out. 

Your heartbeat quickened as he stopped in front of you, staring down at your face like you were nothing but a lost deer. He was a large man, and in all honesty, his white shirt did nothing to conceal the musculature of his chest. 

You’d never been so troubled by another human being before, and yet here you were. Or perhaps once, long ago. Love at first sight didn’t exist in this world, but you were close to it. Yet, there was something so… familiar to him, though you couldn’t put your finger on it. Some… feeling at second sight, that was. His eyes reminded you of something long forgotten. 

“Fuckin’ hell," he turned around to his friend, snapping you out of your thoughts. "Is she any of yours, Tommy?” 

God, that voice. It would command an entire squadron. 

“What use would she be to me?” the other, Tommy, replied from his spot. 

His sharp features had you staring a second too long. He looked almost bored, though, not half as interested as the one leaning closer to your face.

“Who are you?” the tall one demanded, his sweaty warmth coasting over you. 

“I–” you started, trailing off when you thought about the shitty position you were in. “Look, I’ll just go home and we’ll forget about this, alright? I’ve made a mistake coming here. It's on me."

A boisterous knock on the door had you sauntering further away. Fuck. It could only be that arsehole you had managed to leave behind. 

Your gaze slowly traveled back to the tall man, whose bearded chin gave a persuasive jerk toward the door. 

“Right then. Go home, love.”

After a long hesitation, your feet led you back to the front of the door. No matter how much you willed yourself to open it, you were terrified at the idea of meeting the creep again. It was easy for them, doing whatever business they had in a safe and slightly scary storage building, while women like you had to physically reject men’s advances. You bet they even found it funny. Could they not guess you'd sacrificed yourself for men all those years ago, only to get this as a payback? You’d open the door and run until your lungs threatened to explode. And then? Where even were you?

“Fuckin’ knew it,” the marked accent spoke behind you, as if detecting your inner turmoil. “That was in your plans, wasn’t it?”

Spinning on your heels, you opened your mouth to repeat it was just a mistake, but the other man cut you off. Better to keep your mouth shut, then. 

“I don’t know the girl, Alfie,” the second one shot a glance at you, clearly unwilling to help if needed. 

“You don’t?” that Alfie said, his tone warm as honey as your hand tightened against the doorknob.

Did he really think you’d come all this way to spy on him? How stupid was that? 

Think, damn it! His name was not so foreign.

Maybe this was your way out. Alfie. You’d met three during the war, but they had probably left this world by now, carried off by grief or their mental and physical wounds.

“Maybe our new friend is going give us a fuckin’ clue at some point, yeah?” he nearly spat in your face, seizing your arm.

Rough but warm. That’s when it clicked. 

“Captain Solomons,” you breathed out, allowing yourself to slightly relax.

He wouldn't hurt you.

Yet, you felt slightly wounded by his lack of response, watching his breath get heavier like the two words had shot him once again. This time, no piercing cry filled the hospital tent. You bet it was as painful, though. 

“Sadie Murray, sir," you removed the hat from your head, hoping the face reveal would have some sort of softening effect on the situation. "I reckon I’ve stitched you up a couple of years ago.”

Holding out your hand, you tried desperately to reach for a white flag, only met with Solomons’ blank stare. So you lowered your arm, taking a step backward instead–as much as you could, as you were now leaning against the door. Something flashed in Solomon’s eyes as he visibly realized something, too. He scrutinized you longer, examining every controlled breath, the flutter of your lashes, and the details of your cheeks.

Your heart drummed erratically with each passing second. Not all memories were good to be reminded of.

“Leave us now, Shelby,” Alfie’s voice suddenly filled the room, making you flinch.

Tommy released a strained sigh. “Not until we agree on my terms.”

The staring contest between the two men was ridiculous. It was only when a door opened in the back of the building, sunlight flooding the room, that you recognized the second man as well. The name Shelby now rang a bell. You remembered all the stories you’d heard about him–and judging by the meeting that had occurred just a few minutes prior, you could only suppose Mr Solomons was not someone you'd want to associate with either. It was too late to think of the consequences now anyway. 

You had no time to slip through the doorway, as swift as you were. Despite being focused on Shelby, Solomon’s hand had grasped you even tighter, not one look shot in your direction. Instinct and panic overtook you instantly as you tried to wiggle out of his grip. The fucker was strong. 

“Let me go!” you hissed, ignoring Shelby’s sardonic snort a few feet away. 

“No,” Alfie Solomons’s eyes met yours again, and you hated that amused spark in his eyes. “You, Mrs Murray, are stayin’ with me. We’re gonna have a short conversation, yeah?”

You couldn’t believe a conversation with him would ever be ‘short’ anyway. You’d experienced it once. The hours spent talking about everything that came to your mind. He’d been a different man then. Not the frightening… hot as hell kind of man. You barely recognised him, and the contrast hurt. Who had you loved?

“Don’t touch me,” you pushed against his chest in one last effort, but it was like trying to move a brick wall. "We can talk without you locking me up, can't we?"

A few heads popped out from nowhere, curiously gazing at the reason you were shouting. Clearly, no one else was going to get you out of here. 

Andrew wouldn’t come. Whether he was at the theatre or the pub–if you believed what he told you–he would tell you to stop being paranoid. He was quite right, deep down. You really were. 

“Bye, Tommy. Fuck off, Tommy,” Solomons almost chanted, walking away, and you had no choice but to follow. 

And that hallway was fucking endless. Where was the end of it? Why did the men stop moving every time Solomons walked past them? He was like a hurricane. Not even his slowed movements made him any less intimidating. 

You remembered him telling you about a bakery one day, but the memory was as hazy as the rest, and it had sounded less… important, coming from his mouth. You'd imagined a small family-owned shop, not an entire dark building where men stored bottles.

After what felt like forever, still clutching your arm like his life depended on it, Solomons walked up a narrow flight of stairs. He hollered something about flour to a young lad and finally pushed open a door. A new wave of panic flooded you as you studied the room that featured a single window, a disorderly desk, and dark wooden furniture. You wished you knew how to compliment one's office, but you lingered on the threshold, already picturing him hitting you, or… shooting you, or anything you could think of.

“Take a seat.”

His tone could have been mistaken for welcoming, but you were on watch. Raising your gaze to his, you slightly narrowed your eyes in wariness and checked that no one was standing behind you.

“Have you become deaf by any chance, Miss Murray?” Solomons’ voice, though sweet once, became harsher. 

An odd thumping began in your chest as he stepped in your direction, as though he wouldn’t be afraid to throw you on the armchair himself. 

“Don’t touch me,” you repeated before you could even think, feeling his inquisitive gaze on your back as you went to sit down shakily. "I'm sitting down."

The leather of the armchair reeked of alcohol.

Solomons headed to a small wooden cabinet behind his desk, pouring himself a drink while taking all his time. You stared at his back and every move he made, knowing where it hurt and when the random shootings of pain likely occurred. Others would never know about it; you knew he was too full of himself to admit he was weakened. But you did know, in a deeper way, and it felt like a secret only the both of you shared. 

Checking the golden liquid in the light, Solomons turned around to have a look at you. Like he was weighing the pros and cons of having you here against your will. 

But once again, what could you threaten him with? Reveal to everyone he had killed that Italian man eleven years ago with that nail up his nose? What was scary about that? They’d probably seen worse, all of them.

“I hadn’t recognized you at first,” Solomons broke your frantic train of thought, settling comfortably across the desk. “Must be the hair.”

“What can I say?" you mumbled, the phrase painfully shy. "War changes people, doesn't it?”

He made a sound in his throat. “War, huh? Hope you were a bit bolder there.”

The irony of it all.

“You’ve seen it with your own eyes, haven’t you? I didn’t really have a choice.” 

The corner of his lips tugged, taking his beard along with it. “I do remember, yeah. Fierce little thing you were.”

You scoffed softly at that, looking down at your hands resting on your lap. Red and orange streetlights blurred beyond the windows, adding to the warm light coming off his lamp desk. It felt like a completely different world here.

“You didn’t seem so cruel back there, M. Solomons.”

“War changes people, right,” he slouched in his seat, so damn intimidating. Definitely a different man. “I’d be dead if I weren’t cruel, as you say.”

It sounded silly. You couldn’t believe a baker had to be cruel to survive. If he had ever been, that was. 

Talking about death.

“Well, most of them did leave this world after you left,” you muttered, willing yourself to speak a bit louder. You weren’t sure why you were coaxing him into feeling the weight of the aftermath, but it was the only thing you could think of. The only thing you’d wish to confess about after he was gone, when no one was willing to listen. “Thought you’d… I didn’t think you’d made it back to England, actually.”

“Didn’t think I’d make it either.”

Glancing up, you met Alfie’s gaze and it was suddenly clearer. As if the bombs were still exploding near you, and the ground was still shaking. You saw his face then. The fear had wrinkled his face, and that brown vest made him look older. Just like you, you supposed. Beneath that beard, he probably thought he’d been reduced to nothing more than a veteran.

You knew he was so much more, even remembered all his layers, but what good would it be finding all about it again? Eleven years had passed. He had moved on, just like you had.  

Shutting your eyes close for a second, you tried to get a hold of yourself, rubbing your eyes. If Alfie wasn’t willing to speak, then maybe you could fill the silence and gently ask him to let you go home. 

“I–I have trouble. Remembering faces. Um… They call that dissociative amnesia. Whatever that means. I’m not… I’m not so bold anymore, you see.”

“But you remember me, yeah? You do.”

At that, your heart beat a little faster. All his focus was directed at you. The centre of his world for a minute, like he had been yours during the fights.

“There are things I find rather memorable. Some faces.”

“Memorable, eh?” Alfie leaned forward on his seat, resting his elbows on his legs. “I could say the same about you. I’ve dreamt of you stitching me up more than I can count, you know. Almost shot myself to see you again."

Your soft chuckle pulled another smile to your lips. Now filled with deep feelings of sorrow and sheepishness, you could only think of crying in bed. God, that day couldn’t get stranger. 

"I'm done stitching people up," you admitted, holding his gaze. "Now I deliver babies."

Alfie nodded slowly. "A midwife, right?"

A gentle smile curved your mouth. "Yes, sir."

"Yeah, I always knew you'd end up doing something like this."

Alfie's lips twitched with something you thought was pride, filling the void in your stomach with so much warmth.

You hadn’t meant to get so defensive and hysterical so fast, but he’d been scary as hell, hadn’t he? It was hard to find the balance between the two personalities now. In the mayhem of it all, you didn’t know what to believe, and whose face to talk to. One thing was sure, Alfie had not forgotten about you.

[sneakyblinders]

seeing clearly

A/n: part of my tommy and his darling wife au. warnings: breastfeeding a baby, alluding to smut but no smut. not canon.

You cracked the door to your bedroom open, eyeing your husband, sitting in bed, propped up with fluffy pillows, smoking a cigarette. "Good morning," you smiled. He gave you a weak smile. "Hello, Gorgeous," he said, head lolling to the side to look at you. You sat on the edge of the bed, fingers gently tangling with his. "How do you feel today?" you ask gently, pulling his hand to your lips. "Head hurts still," he rasped, eyes sensitive to the light. "I'm sorry, lovey," you coo. He readjusts himself beneath the blankets. You notice a discarded book on your side of the bed, narrowing your eyes. "Trying to read?" you ask.

Tommy lets out a disgruntled sound, tossing his cigarette into the ashtray on his nightstand. His lips are in a pout, debating on whether to divulge the truth to you or not. He knew you'd find out regardless, but didn't want you worrying unnecessarily. Especially with how much you'd worried over him the last year anyhow. "What's wrong?" you ask, dark eyes filled with worry. "Thomas, tell me," you tell him softly, squeezing his hand tighter. "I'm--" he struggled to say it aloud. "I'm still having problems seeing," he said hesitantly. "Oh, Thomas," you sigh, reaching up to touch his face softly. He leans into your touch, missing how you felt near him, around him, close to him. You'd treated him with such gentleness, such kindness, such care. He didn't deserve you, he knew that all of your lives together, but with you nursing him back to health, it solidified his knowledge. "What if you tried wearing glasses?" you ask. He huffed. "Me?" he looked at you, displeased at the thought. "I think not, my love." "But if it helps you see, Thomas," you try and reason with him. "Would you try it, please? For me?" He sighed, the fuzziness of your features bothering him. He squeezed your hand. "I will, my love."

A few weeks later, he was well enough to go to the doctor, who had given him a thorough eye examination and deemed him in need of glasses. He sighed, picking out a pair of gold, wire rimmed glasses. They were simple enough, not too much to attract a bunch of attention. He was eager to return to his home, to see his wife and new baby, Katherine. Peter was excited that his father was now well enough to walk down the stairs and see him for a few moments throughout the day. Thomas had missed them.

Simmons drove him back to his home, saying little. Tommy had his glasses in a case in his jacket pocket, still reluctant to wear them. When he walked through the front door, Peter ran to him, telling him of a new book he had just got from his grandparents through the mail. "I can't wait to see it," Tommy told him, smiling at his son. "Will you read it to me? Mummy says some of the words are too big for me," he asks, big blue eyes pleading with his father. Tommy takes a sharp breath in. "Of course, son. We'll read it tonight before bed, eh?" Peter smiled widely. "Where is your mother and the baby?" he asks. Peter led him up the stairs to the nursery. The door was shut, often an indication you were nursing. "Go find Frances and tell her that I'd like that chocolate pudding for dessert tonight, eh?" he tells his son. "That's my favorite, Daddy!" he says. "Mine too, son. Run along," he says, smiling as Peter bounds down the steps to find Frances. He knocks gently on the door. You call gently for him to come in. You were seated in the rocking chair, baby at your breast. His heart swelled. "Hello, Darling," you tell him, eyes bright. He sits down on the footstool in front of the rocking chair, eyeing his dark haired baby girl nuzzled at her mothers breast. He gently strokes the back of her head. "Daddy's home," you coo to the baby. "She's still so small," he says, in disbelief of this little tiny baby that was his. "But she's getting stronger," you tell him, a smile on your face. "How did the eye doctor go, my love?" Your husband sighed, shoulders sagging. "They gave me glasses." "Oh, let me see!" you said. The baby had decided she was done eating, and you raised her to your shoulder to burp her, pulling up the neckline of your dress. He hesitantly pulled his glasses from his pocket and put them on. "Oh, Mr. Shelby," you say, a devious smirk on your face. "You look quite handsome," he shakes his head, laughing incredulously. "I don't think so," he starts, but you cut him off. "I think you look very handsome. Dashing. Kingly." you tell him, and a smirk grows on his face as he looks up--able to see you clearly. And you're beautiful, he thinks. The baby burped, and you turned her to face her father, her little head resting on your chest. "Tell Daddy he looks handsome, Katherine," you whisper to the baby, who smiles at her father, her blue eyes beaming at him. He smiles softly. "Tell your mother she's ridiculous," he whispers to the baby, a goofy smile on his face, making the baby gurgle and clap her hands. He takes Katherine from your arms, cradling her against his chest. "Really, Thomas, I think you look most handsome. If they help you see, Darling, that's what really matters." you say, adjusting the top of your dress again. "I suppose," he grumbles, getting up and fetching a baby blanket, lying it on the floor, laying the baby on her stomach on the floor. "She is getting stronger," he observed. She was able to hold her neck up on her own finally, and getting better about it every day.

That night, you came to bed after feeding the baby one last time, Thomas not in bed yet. You walked back down the hall and found him in Peter's room, reading his new book to him. "Father, why do you wear glasses now?" Peter asked as Thomas shut the book. "After my injury, it was harder for me to see. I need them so I can see you grow up," Tommy said, standing from his seated position on Peter's bedside. "And to see your beautiful mother and sister. And to read you stories." "They're nice, Father." Peter tells him, yawning. "Thank you, son. Goodnight," Tommy tells him, flicking off the light and exiting the room, finding you standing outside the door. "Eavesdropping, my angel?" he asks. "Our son is so kind," you tell him, pressing your head to his chest. "He is, my dear, just like his mother," Tommy tells you, kissing the top of your head. Tommy eyed himself in the mirror of your vanity in your room with his glasses, still unsure of his appearance. "Thomas," you say softly, coming up behind him, hands on his bare chest. "Stop worrying," you press a kiss to his shoulder blade and goosebumps rise on his arms. "May I show you how handsome I think you look in them?" you ask, hand dipping beneath the waistband of his sleep pants. His response was a moan to your touch. You come in front of him and drop to your knees, your back to the vanity, so he could see in the mirror, something you'd learned a few years ago that drove him wild.

A few minutes later he was a panting, moaning mess above you, a hand tangled in your hair as he came down from his high of pleasure. "Believe me now?" you ask, pressing a kiss to his thigh. He pulls you up by your shoulder, gripping the back of your neck, pulling you against him, lips crashing to yours in a searing kiss. He pulled away, breathless. "I believe you." he told you, pressing his forehead to yours.

If he had to wear glasses for the rest of his life, it was a damn good thing his wife liked him in them.

[sl-newsie]

American Woman (Thomas Shelby x American OC) Masterlist

Summary: (Begins at season 1) A young American woman accidently gets lost and left behind during her family trip in England. Now she's left alone in the sketchy town of Birmingham. What will happen when she meets a family rumored to be full of notorious and dangerous gangsters? Warnings: swearing, inappropriate language, guns, suggested sexual content, spoilers

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[justrainandcoffee]

Goodbye, my hopeless dream (Alfie x Tommy)

Hunger Games AU

Summary: That's the last night together and Alfie and Tommy are the last ones alive in that special edition of the Hunger Games. Only one of them was going to leave the Arena alive and it's not Tommy. Alfie and his ghosts are alone now. And his heart is forever broken.

Warnings: Angst. Major character death. Description of killings. Please, remember the kind of world Panem is. If you don't know, well, just know that kids are forced to kill other kids. || MxM love. || Bittersweet ending. ||

Words: 2k. || Tofie masterlist

"Because you'll find someone else to love. I won't."

Alfie woke up with a startled again. He was transpiring despite the cold winter.

His clock announced that it was 2 in the morning. The night was quiet in District 9 but especially in the Victor's Village… because hus house was now the only one habitable there.

I should be fucking dead.

But he wasn't because destiny in that world was a cruel beast. Especially for unfortunate people like Alfie Solomons.

"He's synonymous with luck," people commented. "The two times winner of the Hunger Games Alfred Solomons."

In district 9 he was a hero. He did what the powerful districts couldn't do. The eyes of Panem were in one of the poorest places of the country, because of him. He deserved the glory, the cheers.

But people didn't know the kind of man Alfie Solomons was indoors. Or worse, how he was inside his own mind.

The ghosts he saw, the screams of pain he heard in his dreams… his eyes.

A year and a half ago.

The Quarter Quell was presented as la crème de la crème. The elite of Panem facing the Arena once more. The Quarter Quell meant that the victors of previous games were going to participate in the 75th edition.

They promised them another thing. They promised them freedom. They promised them not to kill again.

And yet…

The rebels were ready to. It was now or never. They were going to kill Coriolanus Snow and free Panem of the tyranny he was. But that was before he and his men killed every single one of the rebels. Even kids. For the right price someone talk and give all the names. Like Judas. And also like Judas he hang himself.

If any rebels remained free, then they were hiding in the shadows. The last massacre was a reminder that as long as Snow was alive, the games still existed. Punishing the rebels not once, but twice.

They were rude, strong. Not like those malnourished children that the whole country saw year after year. They won and they were rich, well fed. Like they were once. In consequence, that was the 17 night there. The longest games ever, but that edition was also finishing. Only four remained alive.

Alfie was resting against a tree with his scythes dropping blood in his hands. He was looking at the sky and paying attention at his surroundings.

He didn't want to see Tommy's face projected on the dome, but he didn't want to be the one killing him either. Alfie couldn't kill him. Alfie won't kill him.

How do you kill the love of your life?

They only could see each other every year for only two weeks maximum, three if they were lucky, but it was enough for them. The kisses in the balcony, the lovemaking in their beds. Alfie's beard tickling Tommy's neck, Tommy's hands on his chest. The stolen smiles. His blue eyes on him like Alfie was the most important man in his life. He was. The nights comforting each other every time a kid of them died. The joy they experienced when the other finally could transform one of their tributes into a victor. The promises of love.

"We're going to be happy together, Alfie, when we can go to district 13."

"I know, Tom. We can live in district 4 afterwards, next to the sea."

"I'd like that."

All those words vanished in the air when they knew that Snow killed the rebels. And even more when he announced the Quarter Quell. Alfie felt the frustration in his bones. The unimaginable anger.

All those promise of eternal love never were going to be possible because happiness and Panem never were in the same sentence.

The sound of a cannon startled him. If it was Tommy, it was going to be easier. Killing the tributes from 1 and 4 was going to be easy for him because he had nothing to lose.

But the image on the dome showed the face of the tribute from 4.

Of course it wasn't him. Thomas Shelby, from 12, was tough as nails. His Tommy.

But, who was going to comfort him during his nightmares if not Alfie? Tommy told him more than once that even when his aunt, sister and brothers were there, the real comfort existed only in Alfie's arms. And same as him, Alfie knew that Tommy won't be capable of killing him.

Tommy was braver than him, Alfie thought. Tommy clearly could commit suicide if it was necessary to erase his pain from Earth. But he couldn't. Otherwise, he could have made it the first years after winning his first games.

Before knowing Tommy, Alfie's life was a constant battle between keeping himself awake to avoid nightmares and and sleeping to forget what being alive meant. He found in casual, meaningless sex a way to numb his brain. Then, one day, one the latest victors approached while they were in the Capitol's Tribute building. Alfie watching at Tommy thought that he had the prettiest eyes he ever seen. Tommy was just 18 and Alfie 20. Fifteen years passed since they met. Fifteen years together. Stolen moments once a year, but for them were precious.

"I love you, Tom."

"I love you too, Alfie."

Why was the world was so cruel? Why couldn't two people in love live trying to leave the cruel past behind them? Why couldn't Alfie wake up with his lover in the same bed and enjoy life? Maybe even getting married?

Alfie opened his eyes again. He heard a noise behind him, between the trees. Only the moonlight illuminated the landscape. His scythe was ready to attack the tribute from 1 and killl him right in the spot. Decapitating him if necessary. He did it before. If not, that bastard could kill his partner and no one was going to kill Tommy.

But it wasn't the remaining tribute, it was Tommy himself.

"What're you doing here, Tom? I thought… we talked…"

"I know, Alfie, we said that the best thing we could do was to be apart. But this is the last night, sweetheart. The last one."

His words hurt him. Alfie loved Tommy sincerity, even in the darkest times. The last night together it was supposed to be in the future decades from now, when one of died of old age. Not now in their 30s.

Tommy sat down next to him resting his head on Alfie's shoulder.

"Remember what you told me once, Alfie?: No one can separate us. That's what you told me. I guess we didn't put Snow in the equation."

The sound of the canon made Alfie opened his eyes.

No. No.

"Tommy, Tommy… damn, what did you do?"

"I cut his femoral artery. He bleed himself," Tommy said quietly. "Just you and me now, Alfie."

Alfie dropped his scythe far away from him. He didn't need it now, not ever again. He hugged Tommy.

"You're freezing, pet."

"It's cold. Kiss me."

Alfie didn't waste his time and did it. He gave a fuck if a whole nation was watching them. The man next to him was his love and he didn't care about anything else. Tomorrow morning one of them was going to die.

Tommy moaned when Alfie's tongue found his. How do you tell the love of your life that you're already dying? He couldn't, not now. Tommy layed down on the sand and Alfie did the same but in top of him.

Without stop kissing him, Alfie's hands found his hair, now wet, and ran his fingers through it.

"I love you," Tommy repeated.

"No, I love you."

"I know."

This time it was Tommy who kissed him. His strong Alfie but soft Alfie. He wished he'd have more opportunities to say him how important he was to him. Because Alfie was everything he had.

The tribute from 1 was a beast of man. Stronger and younger than him, but Tommy was smarter. He tricked him and managed to cut his leg, causing an instant bleeding. But the tribute also managed to stab him in his liver. When Tommy started to walk towards Alfie, he removed the knife from his body but the damage was irreversible and Tommy knew it. At least it was going to die in Alfie's hands and he was going to be the newest victor. Two times winner.

"I love you," Alfie said again against his mouth. But when he touched Tommy's abdomen felt the inconfundible warmth of blood. It was too dark to see it, but it was there. He smelled his hand: it was definitely blood.

"Fuck, no! Tommy, no!"

That's why he was cold.

"It's too late, Alfie. And it's better this way, eh? You didn't have to kill me and I don't have to kill you either."

"It wasn't supposed to be this way, Tom! It wasn't! I was going to protect you! I promised you…"

"It's not like we can avoid death, love."

"Fuck. FUCK!"

Tommy put a hand on his face and stroked his beard. He was going to miss him.

"Better me that you, Alfie. You'll find someone else to love. I won't. If something happened to you, then I was going to kill myself and in revenge Snow was going to kill my family. This way, they're safe and you too."

Alfie shut him up with another kiss. Slower this time. His stupid Tommy always taking unnecessary risks. Alfie felt his lover's hands on his neck, caressing his hair and took his time to savouring him.

"Live your life, Alfie. But try to not forget me."

What do you say after something like that. Alfie started to cry in silence. His tears mixed with the tasted of Tommy's lips.

"I won't forget you," Alfie said.

Tommy was curled up against his body when the last cannon sounded. Alfie hid his face on the shoulder of his now dead partner.

"Ladies and gentlemen, the victor of the 75th Hunger Games, from district 9: Alfred Solomons."

Now

"Live your life, Alfie but try to not forget me."

"I won't forget you."

Alfie couldn't and definitely won't forget Tommy. His eyes, his kisses… him.

But there's someone else now. She's good and they have a little girl named Allie who's sleeping in her bed hugging her teddy bear now. One day in some years, Allie will be old enough to be part of the Hunger Games and the only thing that Alfie could do was to beg for her name was never selected.

"Protect her, Tommy."

He has to believe that the man who gave his life to protect him, somehow is also protecting his little daughter.

Tommy will protect her. Tommy wishes he could say that to him. Allie Solomons will never be reaped. She never was going to be forced to kill anyone.

An invisible hand touches Alfie's shoulder. There's nothing he can do to erase his pain but trust that time and love will heal his heart.

"To another life, my hopeless dream." Tommy thinks.

Maybe next time they will be luckier. Maybe.

[rumandcigaretes]

Look what I found yesterday

That's so wholesome 😍🤠

And have a little bit of specific chemistry

DON'T YOU THINK???

[paradise-yuna]

Happy 10th Anniversary of Peaky Blinders 🥳🥂

Credits belongs to 😍

[throughgoeshamilton]

Revelations

A The Other Shelby story

Pairing: Alfie Solomons × fem!reader (OC hybrid)

Summary: The Shelby sister is torn between her loyalty to her brother and his Jewish frenemy who also happens to be her lover.

Words: 1.900

Warnings: none

The Other Shelby stories: Resurrection

A/N: Thank you @cillmequick again for beta reading this and your endless support 🫂 Also tagging @buttercupsandboys because you asked me ☺️

"So your brother still doesn't know about us?"

"No, and if you wanna keep your eyesight, it's better if it stays that way."

"Y'know, the little trick you played on me last year with your grenade... I think that makes us all even, doesn't it? I think it really does."

“I think what really makes us all even is that I'm fucking someone who betrayed the Shelby family and so is Tommy.”

She furrowed her brows as she stared at the ceiling, her hand stroking up and down her lover's broad chest that was covered with ink and hair. Her brother's wife wasn't her taste at all but she knew she had no right to talk some sense into him for marrying an Irish spy. Not when she was spending that much time with the very man who sold Tommy and her family for a deal with Sabini two years prior. But Alfie was right, she and Tommy had paid him back well when they had forced him to overthink his outrageous demand to have all of their businesses written over to him. And if the worst had come to the worst, she would've blown his arse off, lover or not.

Although she had to admit, it would have broken her heart. Even though they didn't put a name on their relationship, two years were a long time to get to know each other, to grow close. After everything that had gone down at Epsom, with Tommy reconnecting with Grace over their child and his unreasonable love for her, she had needed to spend some time away from her family, for the first time in her life ever since Mrs Shelby took her in as a little girl. She and Tommy had always been attached at the hip, from dirty streets used as playgrounds as kids to dirty business giving them money and power as adults. Still, she could not forgive his wife for coming into their life with the sole purpose of ruining it. That was the line she had drawn, the difference between Grace and Alfie. Her mission had been spying on the Shelbys from day one, working together with a man as vile as Campbell, while Alfie had been doing his business as usual, making deals, breaking them and trying to get the most out of it all. She could excuse his behaviour because that was what gangsters did and she had spent enough time around them to know what they were like. She was one of them.

Whether she made that excuse for Alfie because he was who he was to her or not, she wasn't sure. She had been attracted to him pretty early on and escaping to Camden, to him, had been a welcome change. At first, it had been mainly his sheets where she had spent her time with him - or rather his desk in his office at the bakery. It had taken them some time to take it to his bedroom, some intimacy and closeness before they would spend the whole night together and sometimes even wake up next to each other.

Whatever this was, it was good for both of them. He valued her input on business related matters, everything that didn't have to do with the Peaky Blinders, of course, and her wit and attitude she liked to give him most times. She liked the freedom she had in London, the control she could take over her own life outside of gang wars - and she enjoyed feeling wanted and appreciated by Alfie in every way.

Tommy didn't know about the more or less romantic arrangement she had with his former business partner then enemy now business partner again and if she wanted to keep up her attitude towards Grace, it had to stay that way.

“Y'know luv, I think as much as you dislike your good sister, you cannot complain, ya really can't. You were at their wedding and gave them your blessing” Alfie let her know his thoughts on her little family drama while he scratched his beard as if he was deep in thought.

She rolled her eyes at him and sat up, wrapping the thin blanket around her body to cover up her breasts as she looked down at him with a frown.

“I declined his request, I think that was enough of a hint that I do not approve of their bond.”

Despite all the bad blood between her and his bride, Tommy had still asked her to be his best woman at his wedding - just another anomaly that Thomas Shelby wouldn't have given a single fuck about if anyone had questioned why he had his sister as his closest confidant at his wedding instead of one of his brothers. It hadn't got that far because she wanted to spend as little time as possible at the wedding and around Grace’s entourage. That had been her official excuse too because “Do you know who used to grab my arse the most in the field hospitals? Those fucking red uniforms”. Of course, Tommy had known that hadn't been the real reason - or at least not the only one - but he still had had the smallest bit of hope to build bridges between the two women closest to him in his life.

“Why are you naked in ma bed and we're talking about ya brother anyway?”

“In all honesty, you started it. You're so obsessed with him” she chuckled before lying back down into his arms, making Alfie now roll his eyes at her.

“C’mere you little minx and let me show you ma real obsession.”

-

"Does my sister happen to be with you?"

"Tommy, shalom, my old friend. How can I help you?"

"I asked you a question, Alfie."

"Yeah yeah... what was that about again?"

He could hear the man on the other end take a deep breath.

"I asked you whether my SISTER is in your FUCKING BAKERY."

Alfie allowed himself a few seconds, leaving Tommy hanging by a thread judging by the heavy breathing that came from the speaker that he held against his ear.

"Hm... no Tommy, no she isn't. Why would she be 'ere eh? That woman tried to blow my arse off last time you put foot in ma bakery."

Tommy didn't believe him. He knew his sister was hiding something from him in London. That was why she was there all the time. But if his suspicions were true, and she was indeed spending time with the Jewish gangster, his old sparring partner better be sure to help him find her.

"If you happen to see her in London, tell her that I need her to come home immediately" he let him know in a strained voice before he hung up the telephone.

-

It was the two days later when Alfie made the decision to tell her about her brother's call. He had been hesitant at first. Why did her brother know about them? Had she told him? If she had, it wouldn't have bother him but he appreciated honesty, especially from the woman he shared a bed with.

"Treacle" he finally spoke up while clearing his throat, "there was someone on the telephone for you two days ago."

She looked up from the morning paper, slowly chewing on her toast some more as she raised an eyebrow at him.

"And?" she asked impatiently when Alfie didn't continue to speak.

He let out a heavy sight before speaking on.

"'t was your brother. He said you should come home immediately."

The paper made a slight crackling sound as she put it down with force, standing up with her hands pressed onto the table. If looks could kill, Alfie would've dropped dead on the spot. But he kept his calm. He knew she would be angry at him but he had his reasons to hold back this information. The more he had thought about it, the more possible it had seemed that this was Tommy bluffing. Maybe he didn't know about them after all, he was just testing the water, hoping an emergency call like that would give him the proof he was looking for - and a reason to punish her for sharing the bed with someone who once tried to fuck him over. His kid sister was the apple of Tommy's eye so Alfie didn't think he could be that cruel to her, but maybe that was the reason it had hurt him even more when he found out - or rather started to suspect - that she was indeed fucking his former enemy.

“And you didn't think about telling me earlier? Like, right away maybe, Alfred?”

Full name base was never a good sign but Alfie had known what to expect when he would finally break the news to her.

“We don't know what he wants. Maybe t’was a test. You know how he is. I tried to protect ya from him finding out.”

She dropped her head and closed her eyes for a second before pushing herself off the table and rushing towards the door.

“Tell your men to get my car ready, I'm packing.”

Alfie sighed but knew better than to talk back when she was this angry at him. She didn't have time for any discussion with him now but he could be sure to hear a few words about this from her once she was back from Birmingham.

-

As she entered the ridiculously huge mansion, John was storming through the hall, not even giving her one glance of attention. His face was red and he looked like he was ready to kill someone.

"John, what-" she tried to reason with her brother, turning around trying to make him stop in his furious tracks.

"NOT NOW!"

Shortly after him came Arthur, not looking any more cheerful. When she faced him with a questioning look, he slightly shook his head before embracing her in a short hug.

"I'll go after John but you need to talk to Tommy. He's in his office."

First Tommy's crude message he gave to Alfie, now this weird behaviour from her brothers. What the hell had happened here?

She took a few more steps into the house, crossing the grande staircase where Grace's oversized portrait greeted her, making her cringe. When she reached the door to Tommy's office, she gave it a quick knock before entering without being invited to.

"You better have a good reason to have such an anxiety-inducing message delivered to me."

Tommy stood in front of his window, not even flinching when he heard the rather annoyed tone of voice. Silence fell upon them. Half a minute passed, then a whole. She took a few steps towards him until she had reached his desk. It was only now, that she saw a pattern. He was dressed in a black suit, so had been John and Arthur when she saw them mere minutes ago. Suits were nothing special to them, but all black was a rare occasion, thankfully.

"Tommy... What happened?"

She crossed the distance between them and put her hand on his shoulder carefully, but still making him flinch. The few seconds they stood there like that felt like an eternity to her as she thought about all the people she hadn't seen yet, and John's anger. Was it Esme? Polly? One of the kids? Tommy clenched his jaw before he finally started to speak to the curtains

"Grace is dead."