A/N: So maybe you have noticed a pattern, which is that I write a stupid amount of smut and 0 plot. Ya girl has no shame and i’m hella extra so here it goes. smutty smut smut smut smut featuring yo boii dommytommy (bonus of some fluff at the end <3) As always, please lemme know what you think. This is my first dommytommy so just shoot me a cheeky lil message if you think its shit and I will stick to subtommy (who i love in equal measure my lil boy) or just gimme some love SINCE WE ALL KNOW I HAVE A MASSIVE PRAISE KINK PLEASE AND THANKS I LOVE YOU ALL I HOPE YOU ENJOY
Word Count: 5027 words of SMUT! You’re welcome and I’m sorry
Warning: dommytommy, impactplay, breathplay, sacrilegious, blasphemous, i wrote this after going to church with my gma so i’ll see y’all in hell
He loved the game. The chase. The capture and the defeat.
The thrill as the hunt played out.
The way he never knew what to expect from you.
No game was ever the same. Each encounter a new puzzle to solve. And you were the greatest enigma of them all. The one he would spend his life trying to solve, without even the slightest hope in his success.
You were fire, but you were air—lighting him up without weighing him down. You carried him and you grounded him. You were his end, his beginning, and everything in between.
You were his.
Tommy watched you from across the room where he sat in his chair. The leather cool against the cloth of his suit, juxtaposing the heat that radiated off from where you stood in front of him. He brought his cigarette up to his mouth, inhaling the bitter smoke as he narrowed his eyes on you, trying in vain to decipher your mind.
He watched intently as you slinked your body around the room, your hand slowly moving to remove your dress, your shoes, your stockings, until you stood directly before him, naked—save for the necklace around your neck, a small emerald he said had reminded him of your eyes when he gave it to you. His eyes trailed your body, his eyebrows raised curiously as he sized you up. He started at your feet, dragging his eyes up to your naval, then your breasts, to finally your face.
Your lips were wearing a smirk, one that he knew all too well. This was you giving yourself over, daring him to take what you were willingly placing at his feet.
“Come ‘ere,” Tommy whispered, opening his arms, and guiding you toward his awaiting lap. Once you were seated, wrapped in his arm, pinned against the sculpted and taut muscles of his chest, he kissed along the side of your face, grazing his soft lips up your jaw, nibbling his teeth on the skin in his path.
“Tell me what you need princess,” he murmured against you, his breath hot on your ear.
“You.Sir.”
His hand came up under your chin, grasping it gingerly. “Kiss me”, he demanded, bringing your soft lips to his.
The passion in Tommy’s kiss built slowly. His lips starting off soft against yours, willing your body to ease further into his own before gradually becoming more intense. His hand fell from your face onto your breasts, his fingers grazing roughly along your nipples, his thumb and forefinger twisting and pinching them hard enough to make you writhe on top of him. Hands continued on your body downward, palms manipulating the supple flesh of your hips with a bruising force. The whimpers that escaped your lips turned to moans and turned to whimpers again as he worked your skin between his capable hands. Tommy pulled away his mouth from yours to attend to your open neck, attacking the flushed and heated skin with his teeth and tongue, his actions alternating between gentle and savage. With your mouth free from his you were breathlessly moaning his name, your body defenseless against the feeling on his hands on you, exploring you, possessing you. Lost in the moment, you didn’t even notice where his hand had moved until he slid his fingers along your slit, humming with pleasure into your collarbone.
“Princess,” he began, bringing his mouth back up to your awaiting lips. “Mmm… Already you’re such a mess.”
Tommy was ruthless as he shoved his fingers deep into your cunt, curling the tips upwards against your inner walls as his thumb circled your hardened clit. You could feel the metallic bands of his rings inside of you, the cold contrast against your heated center making you jump and twitch against him. Trapped between his chest and his free arm—which had found refuge on your thigh, spreading you open for him— you had nowhere to move or escape. Tommy was in total control over everything.
The hand that was once grasping open your thigh was now lost in your hair, Tommy bounding up the long tresses in his fist with a harsh pull, forcing your face back upwards to meet his, the jerking movement ever so slightly separating the space between your mouths, keeping your connection close enough that you could swallow the next words he spoke.
“Fuck yourself.” The phrase was bitter on your tongue but you gulped it down like it were wine, craving, and hungry for more of the biting taste to graze your lips.
Once the command rolled off his tongue, he kissed you again. Every action of his declaring the scene to be between more than just lovers. He was making a claim. Demanding possession over your body. Greedy for nothing more than to own your desire and sew it into his own. Your hips rolled onto his hand without any second thoughts, your body accepting his commandments as it sacrificed itself at his altar. With your arms around his neck, you brought him closer to you and buried your face into his skin as you gasped for breath. His smell and taste a delirium inducing mix of sandalwood, mint, earth, and tobacco and you drew it in eagerly, rocking your hips with more fervor against his fingers. Tommy thrusted up his hand to meet your body, his maneuvers sending violent shivers down your legs which began to twitch as they hung off the edge of the chair. Your muscles were clenching around his fingers, the heat and pressure slowly escalating to hit their crescendo.
“Shhh…Not yet princess,” he began to coo once you started calling out his name with each exhale of your lungs.
“I- I needa- Tommy…. God please!” you cried out, actual tears forming in your eyes from the exertion it took to stave off your orgasm and wait for his permission.
“No no no. You only need what I need now princess. Who’s in charge here little girl?” he quipped back, moving your face to face him yet again, willing your eyes to open to look at him as he stared you down hard.
“You sir! You’re in charge…but please,” you cried out breathlessly, struggling to form the words around the moans escaping of their own volition past your lips. Tommy only continued to shush you as he moved his fingers deep in your cunt, a licentious smile becoming a permanent fixture in his expression.
Your nails were dug deep into the side of his neck as you continued to rock your hips against his fingers. You were clinging to him, desperate to keep yourself grounded until he released you. But as Tommy moved his thumb once more against your aching clit, any chance of waiting for his verbal permission was lost.
It erupted from your core all at once, a primal and visceral cry escaping along with it. Tommy’s fingers stilled within you as you continue to rock against him, riding out the waves of your orgasm. You mind was a haze. Your consciousness consumed and overwhelmed with the thunderous electrons pulsating through your body. Tommy’s eyes were glued to your face, mesmerized with the way your body reacted to his touch, but frustrated over your lack of control.
Lightheaded and blissed out, you feared the come down, already picturing Tommy’s forlorn expression of disappointment from behind your eyelids. You felt a hand push away the tendrils of hair from your face, and wondered for a second if it were your own before you felt the wet rings that belonged to his fingers graze your skin. His slick thumb ghosted along your bottom lip, his forefinger forcing its way in to your mouth, demanding you to suck.
“Look at me Y/N,” he whispered gently, the softness in his voice coaxing you into thinking it would be all right. But as you opened your eyes to meet his, you knew it was a lie as good as any of the ones he had told his enemies who also shouldn’t have trusted him. His dilated pupils mocked you, the ice-blue irises held you frozen as his fingers grasped onto your face roughly. “Which one of us is in control eh? Must I remind you my little girl? Must I force you to submit to me?”
“Tommy-I-c-.” You tried to speak, explain, apologize, anything. An impossible feat with Tommy’s hand holding your jaw in place.
“You will get on my lap princess. You’ve disappointed me. Now if you’re sorry, you will have to show me. Go on kitten. Face down.”
You did as you were bid and climbed off Tommy’s lap with his help. He guided you how he pleased, your belly resting on his knees, your head hanging down by his calf, your arse in the air. The feel of the cool air against your still wet and hot cunt made you squirm. Your body relished in the feeling— the intensity of the orgasm still coursing in all your senses. As Tommy ran a hand down your back, you instinctually arched for him, a small moan escaping from your lips from the change in position between your thighs. Tommy’s hands stroked you lovingly, although the tender caresses lasted for only a few seconds.
You heard the ringing of his hand against your ass before you felt the sting of it on your cheek, your mind barely having enough time to react before his palm came down again on the other side, the wet rings on his hand hitting you with such force, you could feel the colour of your skin start to change from pink to red to purple.
The blows started coming too soon after the last, and not soon enough, Tommy keeping the rhythm erratic to keep your attention focused on him and him alone. If he had wanted you to keep track, you had lost count, his strategic and methodological strikes coming down on the same spot on each cheek. You whimpered out helplessly into his calf, knowing that nothing unless his own satisfaction would stop the blows.
“Why am I doing this?” he asked simply, after a particularly harsh blow that sent you lurching forward on your hands.
“Because…” you began, trying to regain your breath that he just knocked out of you a second ago. “Because I-I came without permission. Because you’re in control and I didn’t listen to you. Sir,” you rambled off, the sting in your cheeks making your eyes start to water and your legs tremble.
Tommy savoured the way your body reacted to every blow, the way your back curved with every grace of his hand, the way your skin changed colour under his touch. He took another minute’s pause, running his fingers gingerly along your mottled backside, sucking his breath between his clenched teeth as he felt you wiggle against his hardening erection.
His hand came down hard against yet again a couple more times before his gentle caresses soothed you once more. Humming as he trailed his fingers against your sopping cunt which was yet again yearning desperately for him.
“Think you’re ready to behave now my little princess? Or shall I continue?” A smile could be heard in his voice, the proof on his fingers already telling him that you would do or say anything to please him.
“You’re the boss, sir. If you think I’ve learned my lesson…” you trail off, your mind struggling to keep your wits about you as Tommy shoves his two fingers deep into your core, teasing you to cement his domination over you. You tried to remain as still as possible, letting him touch you as he pleased—this was his game now.
“You did well my girl. But you’re not done yet. Get on your knees and get ready to pleasure me. Maybe then I’ll forgive you for your insolence”
Tommy stood up quickly, the unexpected motion sending you falling onto the floor. You scrambled to your knees and waited for him as you watched him begin to undress himself. Tommy’s fingers expertly managed to untie his tie without looking, his eyes fixed on the drool escaping your lips. You were as eager as ever to touch him once he unbuttoned the front of his shirt and exposed his chiseled chest. You admired him like you would a god, his body was a sacred text that you would willingly study, read, and recite every night before bed.
His fingers beckoned you to finish the rest, which you did with great enthusiasm, desiring nothing more than to feel him, to taste him on your tongue as you prayed his scripture back onto his skin. You quickly unclasped his belt and trousers, ripping them down his leg with his minimal help. Tommy watched your eyes light up like a child on Christmas morning as you moved back to rid him of his shorts. An uncontrolled grunt moving past his tongue as he waited in anticipation.
With his cock free, you were suddenly ravenous, your tongue wetting your lips instinctually as you stared at his form. You approached him like a predator would its prey, an expression that made Tommy buck his hips when noticed, watching your face with his keen eye.
“Open your mouth for me princess…nice and wide,” he commanded, sitting forward in his seat closer to your face. Without hesitation you opened it for him, a smile wide on your face as waited for him to spit in. You were careful not to swallow, despite how badly you wanted to, but spread him along your lips. After-all this was technically a gift for him, not for you.
Parting your moistened lips, you licked the precum from the tip of his shaft down his length, swallowing the extra only once he was nice and wet. As you brought your mouth down against him, everything else ceased to be. All that existed was him. The soft and silky skin of his shaft as you took him in your mouth, his rough hands in your hair pushing you further down still, his enticingly bitter taste flowing down your tongue to the burning pit building in your stomach.
Him. Him. Him. It was all Tommy.
Tommy leaned back against the chair as you eagerly sucked him, his one hand behind his own head for support and the other atop of yours for control. He was shoving you down, slow, and deep—forcing you to take him down your throat, his strong grip on your hair squashing any chance you had at denying him— though the thought of doing so would never cross your mind. Your body tensed as you struggled to adjust your breathing against his relentless pace. But Tommy, wanting you to only act and not think, soon took mercy—bringing your mouth against the tip of his cock to allow you to catch your breath, before resuming his earlier rhythm.
Forcing your eyes open, you gazed up at him, staring at the small scar underneath his chin, making that your focus. Your vision was blurred from the runny black tears caused by your mascara but you could see him perfectly. His mussed up hair, his open mouth breathing in shallow breaths, the flush spreading up his clavicle and jaw. Tommy himself was also enthralled at the sight of you as he stared down past his cheekbones through his lashes, for someone usually also so composed and in control, you sure did know how to get wild. You were willingly choking around him as you began to swallow, massaging the tip of his cock with the muscles in the back of your throat.
“That’s it. God—that’s it my angel. Good girl,” he grunted out breathlessly, loosening the grip on his hand on your hair and closing his eyes, revelling in the way he felt in you..
After a few moments, you pull slightly away, bringing his tip back into your mouth and humming around him to get his attention back on you. When Tommy finally brought himself to look back at you, you pulled your mouth away from him, keeping him stimulated with your hands as you climbed up on your knees, bringing your open mouth closer to his face—begging.
“Please sir,” you begged, opening your mouth, keeping your eyes on his.
Tommy, wanting nothing more than your mouth back on him, was more that happy to fulfill your request, spitting once more into your mouth and face. His collapse back onto the back of the chair enough to get you back to your task. You continue the ministrations of your hands, alternating the firmness of your grip to keep things interesting and you sat back on your heels. When you sucked his balls into your mouth, Tommy moaned out with unabashed passion as his body twitched slightly beneath you. Switching the positions of your hands and mouth, you took Tommy deep once more, knowing that he wasn’t likely to last that much longer.
His hands returned to your hair as his need got more intense. His fingers wrapping around your dampened tendrils, simultaneously pulling, and pushing. You were moaning around him as you swallowed him back in your throat, the sight of him through your hazy eyes and the sounds of him roaring around the room enough to titillate excitement in your own core with an angry passion.
Desperately, you were seeking the deliverance he offered between his legs. Your mouth whispering prayers around his sculpted and veined skin, consecrating him as your divine. Tommy became your heaven, your hell; your master and prisoner; your salvation and damnation. When he came, he baptized you with his forgiveness and love. The salty and sweet taste of your redemption gushing past your lips and down your chin. Tommy let you pull off him, knowing you would you take great care in cleaning him up. As you were lapping what had spilled down his softening shaft, a few more pumps of his desire sputtered into your hair and jaw. You took him back into your mouth, coaxing the rest of his orgasm with your tongue, a smile trying to form around him as you moaned with glee and satisfaction. Tommy’s eyes were on you, watching as he once again disappeared down your throat, his attention forced solely on the sensation of your tongue on his undershaft. A devilishly handsome smirk on his face as you pulled him away from your mouth with a wet pop to rest your head on his strong thigh, sighing with unadulterated relief. He felt you shake against him where you sat next to his knee.
However, there is no rest for the wicked, and Tommy grabbed you by your hand and pulled you back onto his lap, cradling your tired body against his sweat sheened chest. You hardly even registered the movements as they happened, only focusing on the distance between you and him which closed at such a sluggish pace it felt like slow-motion. Before you were even seated on him, your hands were in his hair, your lips atop of his. You kissed him with a forceful sense of urgency, craving more from the man who was taking everything from you, but leaving you more fulfilled and liberated than ever before.
Tommy was murmuring praises between breaths, his cock firming up again already as you curled yourself further into him, begging him to take take take. He revelled in the taste of himself on your tongue and drank in the delicious flavour, kneading his hands into the softness of your skin. His breathing became shallow as he felt your right hand move down past his hair with a desperate tug, finding the scars on his left clavicle. He didn’t know why it soothed him so much to feel your touch there but it did and as he looked down at you with his heavy lidded and impossibly blue eyes he knew he had you.
Tommy’s hands were digging roughly into your hips as he pushed to get you to move off him. With the help of his strong arms, Tommy guided you around the back of the chair, bending you over, adjusting your knee so that it was angled above on the chairs armrest. Your back arched in preparation as you waited for him to position himself behind you. His hand trailed up and down your back as he assessed you, watching your body shiver and shake under the trail of his palms. A hard slap rang down once more on your bottom cheek, forcing a guttural cry from your lips.
“Tell me princess, should I fuck you now? Tell me how badly you want me to fuck you” he asked briskly, teasing your wanton cunt with his tip while he waited for your reply.
“Yes,my king. Please, please fuck me… I need it please. Fuck me!” pushing your hips back against him you were begging, your voice broken, your body writhing underneath his in pure desperation for relief…for him. “Oh god, fuck me!”
With hands digging hard enough onto your hips to leave bruises, Tommy pushed himself roughly into you, forcing a strangled groan from deep in your throat to escape as the sensation of his rigid cock appeased the aching need between your legs. Already wet, Tommy slid in almost effortlessly, his own control weakening from the intense feeling of being inside of you, from knowing that he owned you. With one hand still holding roughly onto your hip, his other hand travelled around your waist, searching for your clit. It all felt so right. The way his hot and thick cock felt inside of you. The way you fit against him like this. The way he claimed your body as his own. Nothing was there holding the two of you back. No barriers. No business. No family. Just a game between lovers. The thrill of the conquest. The high that came with total victory.
With each lustful, animalistic cry that escaped your lips, you were giving in, allowing him more and more space to go in for the kill, knowing the hunt was coming to an end.
“Tell me what you need princess,” he grunted into your ear as he moved his one hand from his hip to your throat, squeezing his fingers around you ever so slightly.
“You, sir,” you breathed back, struggling against his strength to reach his face with your own, wanting his lips on yours.
“Who do you belong to?” he growled again, circling your clit with even more fervor.
“You! I’m yours. This body is yours, please sir, uh god - fuck me, use me— I’m all for you!” you screamed, grinding yourself against his hand and hips. A litany of other words, some curses, some pleas, some incoherent ramblings, continued to spill out of your mouth as he fucked you.
“I want you to come all over my cock princess. You don’t need to wait— just give it to me. I want it all”
With Tommy giving as much permission as you needed, you came hard and fast around him. Your clenching inner walls tightened, providing him with even more pleasure as he continued to roughly thrust deeply into your now squelching cunt.
Under his hands, he could feel you quiver around him, knowing the pressure of both his cock and his hand would overstimulate you past the point you would be able to hold yourself up. Removing his hand from your mound, he found your supple breasts, greeting them with a savage squeeze before taking your nipples between his powerful fingers one at a time. The crude brutality with which he handled you was enough to ignite the fire within you yet again, as if your previous orgasm was nothing but foreplay.
Without even being aware of moving your body, your hands somehow found the back of Tommy’s neck. Using his longer hair as makeshift reigns, you pulled him closer to you, begging his lips to meet your open mouth. With his own hand still around your neck, Tommy chokes you closer to him still, feeding on the breaths and moans that fell from your tongue like they were to be his last meal. Your head felt as heavy as lead but as light as a feather as his fingers clenched around your throat.
You loved this feeling—the excitement of the capture, the exhilaration that came from being nothing but a tool for his pleasure, the liberation you felt from his domination.
By now Tommy was fucking without much rhythm, just mindlessly burying himself in you over and over again, staving off his own release until he had you screaming, crying, and pulsating wildly around him. Waiting until he had total victory. Until you gave him all that you had left of yourself.
Your open mouth was drooling around his, slinking down past his knuckles where they continued to hold you hostage by your throat. With your muscles choked under his hand, you could scarcely breathe let alone scream, the resistance only allowing for quiet, raspy moans to escape, which Tommy understood regardless.
As another orgasm roared through your body, you violently shuddered under him, your body going limp in his arms. Tommy watched your undoing, felt your usually composed body surrender to him, his cock seeming to swell even more powerfully inside you, gushing with such intensity, it felt as though a river was running through all of his veins and straight to where he met you.
When Tommy finally came inside you, your name was falling from his lips, the cries of his passion silencing when he sunk his teeth into your shoulder, his breath hot and sticky on your skin. You could feel the cum drip hot and slow down your thighs as Tommy continued to spill inside of you, the sensation warming you both physically and metaphysically as you thought of how much he filled you with his release.
With Tommy collapsing on top of you, your bodies fell limp on the back of the chair, his surrounding yours and melting them both down into one. His thrusts inside of you weakened as he finished riding his climax, until he finally pulled out of you, pulling more broken moans and whimpers from your lips.
As Tommy rolled your body over to face him as he stood up, he felt like he could come all over again just from the sight of your face. The unadulterated euphoria radiating from every pore, the tears of exaltation streaming down your face as you cried. Even though your eyes were open, you could not see a thing, your vision white and black and red all at the same time as your body continued to tremble on the chair. Tommy pushed the hair away from your face, humming softly to you as he watched you with your mind in a blurry haze. He could tell you were not registering anything that was happening just yet, the expression not changing in your face even as he picked you up and carried you to his bedroom.
Laying you down on the bed, Tommy sat close to you, continuing the gentle strokes on your face until you came back down to him. After a few moments, you did— your head turning into the feeling of his soft caresses until you could suck his thumb into your mouth, needing the comfort of the action to help ground you back to him. When he noticed the light in your eyes return, he finally spoke, his voice a soft whisper which still had the power to echo deep through your veins.
“How are you feeling?”
You tried your best to focus your eyes completely on him, hoping that if your words failed, he could still read your face to know how brilliant you were feeling right now.
“Mmm…’m okay,” your words were weak and shaky, but still audible and coherent. “‘Want you ,” you said as you smiled around the words, trying with all your might to move your leaden limbs to reach for him.
“Shhh… you already have me Y/N. You did so good for me princess, but anymore and you’ll be far too sore tomorrow. You need to rest now.”
“Mm, not like that…I just—I want you, come here…please? Hold me?” With your brain still fuzzy around the edges, you couldn’t be sure of the faint blush you thought you saw flash onto Tommy’s cheeks, but even thought that he might have blushed was enough to bring a dazzling smile onto your lips. A sight that made Tommy’s heart flutter against his ribs as he watched.
Acquiescing to your request, Tommy slid into bed next to you, carefully drawing you closer to him while minding your sensitive backside and thighs. His mouth found your hair, pressing gentle kissing to the top of your head as it rested against his chest. Your heart rate starts fluttering again over how soft he is in this moment. Holding your face in his lithe fingers, he brings your lips to his, beckoning them open with his velvety tongue against you bottom lip. The kiss was soft and slow, allowing you to savour the moment, to treasure the feeling of being all his.
The tenderness that Tommy exhibited toward you made your heart swell, the way he comforted and soothed you back down from your high brought silent tears to spill down your cheeks. Tommy was quick to catch them with his thumb, separating your mouths to murmur praises into your skin.
“Hey, shh shh princess, c’mere, I’ve got you—I’ve got you. You were so good for me today,” he began to say, smoothing his hands all over your body as gently as his voice. “Thank you, Y/N, thank you for giving yourself to me. You have no idea how proud it makes me to know that you’re mine. You’re my princess Y/N.”
Tommy had called you by name, and you were his. The hunt, the game, the capture, and defeat— none of it mattered anymore. You were in his arms, and he was in yours.
A/N I have had this in my google docs for damn near a YEAR and i never finished it and dont really know where i was gonna go with it and i feel bad for CONSTANTLY and CONSISTENTLY letting yall down by promising i will write something and then disappearing for an undisclosed amount of time. Anyways, its hardly anything but it will be enough to stop the nagging guilt ive been feeling re. this blog for a while so hopefully it aight with you guys!!!! pce n lov!!! -kat daddy
The irony of the situation was palpable. Everything in your room was in complete order yet your life was falling apart at the seams. You couldn’t remember when it began. The late nights. The not coming home. The expressionless smiles. It must have been gradual. It must have happened so slowly that you couldn’t even feel it. Arthur once told you that weird story about frogs— how they don’t realize they are being boiled alive if you just gradually increase the temperature of the water while they’re in it—you thought it was ridiculous when you first heard it. Arthur said that the frogs won’t jump out, they won’t do anything to stop it from happening, to stop being boiled alive. They just sit there complacent in their own demise.
But as you stood in front of him from across the room you could understand. You were the frog who didn’t even notice the end was coming despite all signs suggesting otherwise.
He couldn’t even look at you when he said it. Couldn’t bother to look into your eyes as he tore your life apart in front of you. Never have you ever thought him to be a coward, but now that’s all changed. Along with everything else.
“I’m sorry–”
“Don’t you dare. Don’t you dare tell me you’re sorry Thomas. Not if you don’t know what you’re apologizing for.” Despite the broken feeling in every bone in your body, your voice held its strength. So at least there was that.
“Y/N. Please, just–just let me explain.”
“Explain what Thomas?” you bit back, your tone stinging like venom, making him wince. “You fell in love with her, I don’t think I need that explained to me. Or do you want to explain to me how you could throw away 6 years, 6 frickin years for what? A fling? A barmaid you’ve known for a few months? Are you going to be able to explain to me what she can give you that I already haven’t? Can you explain that to me Thomas? Because if not then I just don’t care.”
“It’s Tommy,” he mumbled out, avoiding your gaze once more as he looked to the floor in shame.
“No it’s not. Not anymore it isn’t. My Tommy couldn’t do this to me, he wouldn’t be able to. Not after everything we’ve been through. Now I don’t even know who the fuck you are at this moment, but you’re not Tommy.”
“I didn’t mean for this to happen Y/N. I would never hurt you, I–”
“But you are hurting me Thomas! Right now, right this minute you are hurting me!” even with his eyes on the floor, you could see him wince again as your voice finally cracked, the tears desperate to spill any minute now. “You had it good you know, and you’ve shat on it. I hope it’s all worth it Thomas. I really do. There’s no coming back from this.”
Synopsis:when your father went away to serve in The Great War, you took over his side business in the shed. After the war, he struggles to recover from the damage of his trauma as an unexpected investor shows up at your door. (Thomas Shelby, Peaky Blinders)
Summary: Tommy hires you to sing at the Garrison and after growing fond of you and your performances, takes it upon himself to be your protector.
Word Count: 1,308
Warnings: Harassment, violence
It wouldn’t hurt the Garrison to have a little culture. That’s what Polly had told him, and that’s what led to hours of auditioning girls to sing at the Garrison a few nights a week. Tommy was keen on finding just the right girl to bring the aforementioned culture to their little pub. And as soon as you hit that first note, he knew that singer was going to be you. He let Arthur and John put in their opinions as well, but regardless what they’d said, Tommy had more than made up his mind. You were everything he was searching for. Beautiful and unobtainable in the way that lounge and pub singers often were, a starlet plucked from the crowd on her way towards her big break. And with the voice of an angel to boot.
“You’re hired,” Tommy said with a smile, a smile which only grew when you beamed one of your own right back at him. His brothers nodded in approval and you started with your first set at the Garrison that very night. It was a small crowd for your first performance. Tommy promised you a bigger audience the following night, when he’d had time to get the word around, but you were happy enough with the smaller, more intimate crowd for a warm up. You actually thought you could grow comfortable there.
As promised, however, the following night did bring in a much larger crowd for you to perform for. Though it was a bit more intimidating, you dazzled just as you had the night before, and during your initial audition. The applause was infectious, and you were finding more confidence in your voice and performance.
Before you knew it a month had gone by and your gig was less new and more familiar, but nonetheless thrilling. Every time you got on stage you felt like a new person, radiating an energy unlike any you’d ever had offstage. And it was always fueled by the familiar face of Thomas Shelby in the crowd. Sometimes he’d sit front and center, often when he was alone. Other times, he’d sit in the back with various other members of the Shelby clan. Either way, you knew the night would be a great one just for seeing his face as he listened to you sing.
This night, however, wasn’t quite as normal as the rest. You began your first number as always, soaking in the spotlight, and searching the room for Tommy’s face, spotting him towards the back this time, sitting with Arthur. A sense of relief washed over you as you continued your song. Eyes fixed on Tommy, you didn’t notice the man sitting in front, eyeing you up and down. A couple of songs later, and you were ready for your intermission.
You loved the reprieve, being able to rest your voice for a few minutes and have a drink before getting back to it. It made your job feel more like a fun night out, and it had all been courtesy of one Thomas Shelby. Typically, he came over and asked how you were doing, but tonight some other bloke had beat him to it.
“Evening, gorgeous,” the man flirted with you as he sidled up to the bar. You gave him a polite smile, but nothing more, having gotten used to your fair share of passes being made at you. He ordered you a drink you didn’t ask for and shimmied closer. You tried to put some distance between the two of you, but he kept pursuing you. “What’s wrong, pretty baby? I can treat you right if you give me the chance.”
He stunk of alcohol, and you didn’t trust him. You thought of taking yourself outside for a moment, claiming to need a breath of fresh air, but luckily for you, one had already come to you. Stepping right in between you and the nuisance of a man was Tommy. You hadn’t seen him since you walked off stage, but you were happy for the sight of him now. “You harassing a lady in my pub,” he asked, a thinly veiled threat woven into the tone of his words.
“No, Mr. Shelby,” the man replied confidently. “Just buying your chanteuse here a drink. It’s her that’s being frigid. She may have a pretty voice, but the bitch don’t know how to take it when a man pays her a compliment.”
You thought Tommy was going to throw him out or give him a speech about respecting women, but you weren’t expecting him to pull back his arm and meet the man’s face with his fist. The punch sounded like it cracked bone, and you felt your stomach lurch at the sound. You hadn’t realized just how strong of a man Tommy was until then.
Before the fight could escalate, you got a fair distance away from the action, not wanting to get yourself injured in the midst of everything. While your harasser was getting the worse end of the fight, he did manage to clock Tommy in the jaw once before Arthur stepped in and hauled the offender outside, essentially throwing him on his ass at the door. “And don’t you come back, eh,” you heard Arthur shout to him and he stumbled off.
Your heart was still beating hard in your chest as the Garrison’s door swung shut with that good for nothing on the other side of it. “You okay, Tom,” Arthur asked, as he came back towards the bar. Tommy held his fist in his other hand, indicating he’d injured it, but of course, his pride wouldn’t let him admit it, even to his brother.
“I’m alright, Arthur. Can you bring me and the girl a whiskey?” Arthur nodded and placed the order with the bartender as Tommy made his way over to you.
“Some fight,” you remarked, taking in the state of him. “You always jump to a woman’s defense like that?”
“Maybe not as often as I should,” Tommy replied, “but for you, always.”
You scrunched your face up, trying to figure him out. “Thomas Shelby, do you fancy me?” Arthur showed up just then with Tommy’s requested drinks, allowing him a moment to consider his answer. If Arthur had heard your question, he was wise enough not to insert himself into the conversation.
When he’d gone, Tommy took his gaze off his wounded hand long enough to meet your eyes and he felt compelled to be honest with you. “I suppose I do,” he confessed. “Ever since you started here, I felt protective of you. Guess now I’m learning why that is.” He paused for a moment, trying to read your expression. “I don’t expect anything,” he quickly added.
“Well I think you deserve a bit of gratitude at least. While I don’t normally encourage violence, I appreciate you setting him straight for me. I hate to think where it might have gone had you not stepped in when you did.”
At this Tommy smiled, only fleetingly as a wince of pain followed when he flexed his hand. “Are you sure you’re alright,” you questioned.
“Fine. Bruised, most likely. Nothing I haven’t dealt with before. Aunt Polly will see to it.”
“I could, if you’d be willing. I haven’t always made my living as a pub singer, you know?”
“Yeah? Alright. Let’s see what you’ve got.”
“Lets get you elsewhere first. The Garrison, while one of the nicer establishments in the area, is no place to tend to wounds.”
“I think our patrons might miss their favorite singer,” Tommy reasoned.
“Pretty sure my employer will understand,” you teased, getting up from the table. You held your hand out to him and he accepted it with his good hand.
“I hear he’s an understanding sort of man,” Tommy quipped back.
A/n: This took me forever to finish (b/c I forgot about it), but I love this idea. Tommy with animals and babies is always my weakness. And I love that a couple more of my requests involve Tommy and animals. I do have a few more headcanons I’m working on, I’m not sure when I’ll get those finished, but I’ll update the schedule when I get them in the queue.
“We should get a dog,” you asked one day, lounging on the sofa in his office while you waited for him to finish up with some paperwork.
Tommy grunted, too focused on what he was reading to register what you’d said.
You rolled your eyes, it would be ages before he’d be pulled away from his work. “Tommy,” you called. “Did you hear me?”
“Yes, love,” he grumbled.
“Then what did I say?”
He sighed, annoyed with all the talking. “I don’t know, I’m trying to get this finished up.”
“I said that we should get a dog,” you repeated, this time catching his full attention.
Tommy’s eyes shot up to you as he shook his head. “No.”
“No?”
“No dog. Not in my house, not now, not ever.”
“But why?” you whined. There was no reason not to get one.
He sighed. “Y/n, dogs are a lot of work and we just don’t have time for one.”
“But we can make time.”
Tommy didn’t crack and refused to even think about it, but you knew you’d be able to convince him.
You didn’t even bother being subtle about it.
Any chance you got, you’d mention a reason you should get a dog.
When you two would be walking around Arrow House, you’d say it would be something to protect you if you went without Tommy.
When Tommy would talk about going hunting you’d always bring up how he could get a hunting dog.
And you would never fail to mention that it would be great to have a dog around when he was on trips in London.
Tommy was annoyed with all the mention of a dog and did his best to avoid topics that could allow you to talk about it, but that never worked.
You always found a way.
And you’d managed to convince him to get one mainly because he was tired of hearing about it.
It was late when you slipped into his home office. You’d gone up to bed, hoping he would follow, but he hadn’t. So, you went in search of Tommy, knowing you’d find him in his usual spot.
And there he sat at his desk, nursing a glass of whiskey.
“Come to bed,” you said.
Glancing up at you, he nodded. “Once I’m finished with this. Go on, I’ll be up in a minute.”
“I’ll wait.” You took a seat on the sofa. There was silence for a few minutes before you said,” You know-”
“If you are about to mention a dog, I will sleep in here.”
Your shoulders fell at his words. “Oh, don’t act like a dog is the end of the world. Think about it, maybe the dog would love to sit in here with you. Wouldn’t that be nice?”
He didn’t answer, instead sipping on his whiskey, wishing he had locked the door.
“Oh, whatever,” you sighed dramaticly, irritated that he wouldn’t even respond. You knew it was a long shot to get him to agree, but you enjoyed the challenge. And being ignored took the fun out of it.
You ended up leaving Tommy in his office, going up to bed without him.
A little while later you felt the bed dip beside you as Tommy shuffled under the blankets. “We can get a dog,” he said, wrapping an arm around you. “If you really want one.”
You squealed, turning to face him. “Do you mean it?”
“Yes, I do.” There was no way he could take it back now, not with how happy you were about it.
Tommy still drug his feet about it.
He was open to the idea of getting a dog, but now he had begun to list off the various things that a dog could destroy.
They could destroy shoes
Eat socks
Chew on pens
List went on and on, but you didn’t care.
You would make sure the dog was well trained just so Tommy had nothing to complain about.
Eventually you were able to drag him away from the office to go look at dogs. You went to the pound, Tommy grumbling about how he could have just bought one and saved the time.
But once he saw all the dogs, he quickly quit his complaining, taking more interest in them than you.
“You poor thing,” he cooed to a small puppy. The puppy hesitantly crept forward, allowing Tommy to pet it. “Would you like to come home with us?”
Your heart melted as he picked up the puppy and continued talking to it. And he was very clear that this was the dog that would be coming home, so that was the dog you left with.
Though it was still a puppy, you knew it wouldn’t grow to be that big and you didn’t have the heart to mention that to Tommy. He probably thought the pup would grow to be some big guard dog.
Once that dog was brought home, you rarely got time alone with it. Tommy refused to call it his dog, it was always yours, but he always wanted it to be near.
If he was in his office, the dog would be on his lap or curled up on the sofa or hiding under his desk.
Any time he walked somewhere, the dog was right behind him and always chasing the birds on your walks.
And Tommy was the one to name it, too.
He liked the name Daisy since it was a girl.
You didn’t complain too much about Tommy stealing the dog. You wanted him to like the dog as much as you did.
And that meant it wouldn’t be too hard to convince him to get another. Especially if he took Daisy to work with him, leaving you all alone.
*~~*~~*
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Summary: After being told to rest by the doctor, Y/n worries about all the plants she bought. She’s afraid they’ll die, seeing as how she can’t take care of them. But Tommy eases her worries by planting them for her, which is something he never thought he’d agree to.
Thomas Shelby x Female!Reader
Word Count: 2.1k
Warnings: Fluff, Arranged Marriage Trope (warning for those who swoon over it), Tommy gardening (super shocking, I know)
A/n: This is another self indulgent fic. Like I didn’t need to write a second part, but I couldn’t stop thinking about Tommy gardening. And so I was bored and this just poured out of me. I also happened to think the relationship with his wife is cute cause he just doesn’t know what to do.
Y/n hummed, drumming her fingers along the edge of the banister impatiently. Tommy said he’d be right down, but for once he didn’t know how to tell time. It was still early morning and if he didn’t hurry up, it would soon be blazing outside. Floorboards creaked up stairs, Y/n’s eyes shooting to the top of the stairs as her lips spread into a smile.
“I’m ready,” Tommy announced, standing at the foot of the stairs. He wasn’t wearing a suit for once, which was a lovely change, instead wearing a thin button up shirt and tan trousers that had been lost in his closet.
His wife smiled, taking in his appearance. She liked the sight of him all dressed down, if only he dressed like that more often. “Wonderful. Are you sure you’re okay with getting those dirty?” she asked, pointing at his attire. He probably picked out clothes the moths hadn’t gotten too yet, but she still felt guilty about getting them dirty, even if he knew what he was volunteering to do.
Descending the stairs, he nodded. “I’m perfectly okay with it. Now, let’s go to the garden.”
Y/n squealed in delight and grasped Tommy’s hand, weaving their fingers together. The action sent sparks through his body. He never thought holding hands with his wife would be so… so exciting, but then again, most men did more with their wives than Tommy had with his. It would be slow going for them to get there, but he savored each touch, waiting for that time.
Leading him outside, Y/n stopped in front of a dug up flower bed. It looked empty and sad since all the weeds had been torn out. “This is where they will all go,” she told him. “And these are all the flowers I bought.” They walked over to a small table that held four trays of flowers. “Aren’t they pretty?”
“Oh, yeah,” Tommy nodded, he didn’t know the first thing about flowers, but he did know they were a beautiful sigt. “Did you need so many? Seems like you wiped the nursery out, eh?” he chuckled. He would certainly have his work cut out for him.
Y/n rolled her eyes with a smile. “I did not wipe them out, thank you very much. There were plenty left. And you can never have too many flowers.”
Tommy wasn’t going to argue with that. They made her happy and he was sure they would eventually make him happy as well. “Alright, go sit down and I’ll start with these,” he said, picking up a tray of orange and white flowers. “Someone should be bringing some water out shortly.”
Before taking a seat in one of the lawn chairs Tommy had placed in the shade for her, she kissed his cheek. “Thank you for doing this,” she whispered with a smile.
Tommy nodded, quickly turning away with the tray in hand as his cheeks burned. He hated how childish he felt around her. Every touch had his heart racing like he was some teenager crushing on a girl. He always tried to shake it off, but he couldn’t help how young he felt around her. She was nothing but warmth and happiness who was starting to melt his cold heart, leaving it to fall in love with her.
Setting the tray on the ground, he knelt in front of the flower bed, his hands quickly getting covered in dirt as he pulled the plants out. From her chair, Y/n would direct him to where she wanted them, asking his opinion when she was unsure. Tommy knew nothing of flowers or landscaping, so he didn’t feel like his answers held any weight, but Y/n seemed to like his way of thinking. When the first tray was empty and the flowers were placed where his wife wanted them, he wiped sweat off his forehead before reaching for the shovel. They should have started earlier in the day.
“Wait, wait,” Y/n called just when the tip of the shovel made contact with the dirt.
“What?” Tommy grunted, glancing over his shoulder at her.
She pursed her lips at his tone. “Take a step back.”
“Why?”
“Just do it.”
Reluctantly, he picked up the shovel and stepped back. “Now what?”
“I’m trying to teach you how to garden, Tommy, don’t give me that tone.” His face softened at her words. It wasn’t the ideal situation, but they had to work with it, so there was no use for any attitudes. “Just look at it. Are you happy with how it looks?”
He shrugged. “I suppose.”
“Well, that’s where they’ll be permanently, so you better be sure,” she said.
Tommy hummed, scratching his brow. Careful he picked up one of the plants, moving it over a tad bit. Straightening, he nodded, everything looked like it belonged. “Can I dig now?”
“Go ahead,” Y/n chuckled with an amused smile. He would probably never admit, no intimidating gangster would, but his wife could tell he was enjoying it about as much as he would allow himself to.
So he set to work digging small holes for the plants before placing them in them and covering their roots with dirt. Over and over, he repeated the action, hands black from the rich soil. He’d never gardened before, but it brought back memories of the few times Arthur and him tried to grow an apple tree in an old shoe. They weren’t successful, but their mother never stopped encouraging them. They would alway go tend to it, waiting for it to grow. They were both sour when it didn’t, but at least it kept them out of trouble.
Tommy was so immersed in his work that he failed to hear one of the maids approach, setting a tray with a pitcher of water and biscuits on the table with the rest of the flowers. Y/n thanked the girl and filled two glasses with water. Tommy had made sure they’d both gotten their share of water since the doctor visited. He didn’t want to give the doctor a reason to come back. Y/n was sure she’d be sick of water by the end of the week, more than happy when Tommy would be back at work and not depriving her of tea.
“Tommy,” she called and frowned when that didn’t capture his attention. “Oh, Mr. Shelby,” she sang loudly. This hit his ears, causing him to turn towards her. “Come drink some water.”
He stood, leaving brown streaks on his trousers as he wiped his hands off. Y/n couldn’t contain her smile as he approached. She quite liked the sight of him covered in dirt. Dare she say, it was attractive. “Thank you, love,” he said, gladly accepting the glass.
It was hotter than hell outside, nearing noon, and Tommy finished his glass, pouring himself another. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d actually drank plain water, but it tasted sweet on his tongue. Maybe he’d have to lay off some of the whiskey and throw some water into his diet.
“What are you staring at?” he questioned, glancing over at his wife, who’s eyes had been trained on him.
She shrugged. “Nothing,” she smirked before sipping on her water.
“Liar. Now, finish that glass up. There’s more in the pitcher for you.”
She huffed, drinking down what remained. There was no use arguing over it, Tommy would just stand in front of her like a mother hen until every last drop was gone. “There, it’s all gone. Are you happy now?”
“Very,” he said, setting his glass on the table and picked up another tray of flowers. This time it was full of pink and purple flowers, which he didn’t know the names of either. “Where do you want these?”
And so Tommy continued on with his work. He’d pick up a plant, holding it out for his wife to see as she’d think of a place to put it. He’d have to move it five or six times until she liked the placement and then she’d ask if he liked it. Tommy chose to agree with her each time she finally liked where it was placed, it would be more work if he didn’t. And once everything on the tray was sitting in the dirt, he’d get to work digging the holes and placing the flowers inside them before covering them in dirt. This same process continued until he was halfway through with the last tray. And by then he had decided maybe it was best to put a money limit on the flowers next time she went to get more.
“What about this one, love?” he asked, scanning the dirt for a spot. “Y/n?” He glanced over his shoulder as a soft smile spread across his lips. It seemed managing his work was rather exhausting as Y/n was fast asleep in her chair. She needed the rest, seeing as how she had not only dehydrated herself, but also exhausted herself from all the gardening she had been doing over the last week. Turning back to the flower bed, Tommy placed the flower between two others, a spot he’d been eyeing for sometime. He was sure Y/n would love how it turned out.
Once every last flower was planted, Tommy stood, brushing his hands off on his trousers and walked over to his wife. He drank the last of his water, glancing over at Y/n’s sleeping form. He may have been covered in dirt and hated the thought of ruining her new dress, but Tommy wasn’t about to leave her outside, not as the sun was encroaching on her shade. So, gently he picked her up, careful not to wake her, and carried her inside.
“Tommy,” she mumbled once they were inside, eyes barely open.
He smiled down at her, careful to watch his step on the stairs. “Yes, love?”
“What are you doing?” she asked.
“Taking you to your room,” he said softly as he neared her room. She nodded against his chest as they entered her room and he gently set her on the bed. Pulling the bedding over her, he smiled as she snuggled into the soft fabric. Tommy didn’t know what to say as she settled in and turned on his heels, ready to change out of his dirt stained clothes.
“Tommy,” she called him back, sleepy eyes watching his every move. “Where are you going?”
“I’m going to go take a shower,” he told her, his hand resting on the doorknob. And probably a nice nap. Being out in the sun was starting to get to him as exhaustion started to set in.
She hummed, stifling a yawn. “Oh, okay.” She didn’t seem pleased with his answer as she turned away from him, burying her head in the pillow.
With a sigh, he let go of the door and approached the bed. “Would you like me to stay?” he asked.
“Only if you want to,” she mumbled into her pillow.
“Tell you what, I’ll go take a shower and then I’ll come join you. How does that sound?” he offered, sitting on the edge of the bed.
Turning to look at him, she nodded. “That sounds good.”
With a smile, he leaned over her, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “Get some sleep, I’ll be back in a few minutes.”
Leaving her to sleep, Tommy took a quick shower, surprised by all the places dirt could hide, and ten minutes later was back in her room. Staring at the empty side of the bed, Tommy stood frozen. They’d never shared a bed before and the idea of sleeping next to her, while comforting, seemed too intimate considering how new the physical aspect of their relationship was. He sucked in a breath, eyes tracing her sleeping form, and crawled under the covers.
He stared at the ceiling, tracing the decorative wall paper as he tried to relax. He didn’t deserve it, her kindness, those sweet smiles she always flashed him. He didn’t deserve any of it, not when he’d done his best to push her away in the beginning. He most certainly didn’t deserve to share a bed with her. But he felt her move closer, an arm reaching out for him, and against his better judgement he pulled her flush against his side.
And as she snuggled into him, Tommy thought, maybe he could earn it. He could earn her love and affection, earn a place in her bed and her soft kisses. They may not have wanted to marry each other, but Tommy was starting to think he couldn’t do without her.
*~~*~~*
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Summary: Y/n is a new maid at Arrow House and can’t help but feel she isn’t doing what she was hired to. She was hired to make beds and dust, not run between Mr. and Mrs. Shelby, sitting with them, having tea, or helping them with paperwork. A conversation over dinner with one of the older maids helps bring her relationship with the couple into perspective.
Thomas Shelby x Female!Reader x Lizzie Stark
Word Count:2.5k
Warnings: Mention of sex, polyamory
A/n: I am so tempted to write a second part to this. I just love how this turned out and its leaving me wanting more. I wasn’t sure how to write this when I started, but I couldn’t contain myself when I was writing it. And I think, maybe, if I do write a second part that it might have a little smut. We’ll see I guess. Just let me what you guys think cause I’m loving this pairing and will definietly be writing more for it.
Arrow House was a bustling place below the surface with maids running around while the cook yelled at their assistant to bring them this and that. There was always someone climbing the stairs and stoking the fires, someone dusting the paintings and fixing the light fixtures. The work may not have been exciting, but there was never a dull moment in the house. And there was certainly never a dull moment for Y/n.
She was a new maid, only working for the Shelbys for a couple months, and nothing she seemed to be doing could be found in the job description. She may have been young, but she had worked at another large estate house before working for the Shelbys. Her family had been employed by that family for years until they sold their estate. Y/n learned how to properly make a bed and serve tea while working there alongside her mother, who would have thrown a fit if she’d done any of it wrong. Y/n was maybe a little naive in thinking that the work would be the same at Arrow House.
She wasn’t sure if it was worth complaining about, but she found herself making beds and dusting less and less as the other maids took over those jobs and more time attending to the needs of Mr. and Mrs. Shelby. She’d run from one side of the house to the other as each asked for her. They never needed much, Mrs. Shelby usually just wanted to talk to her, learn more about her and how she was doing in the house, Mr. Shelby wouldn’t say much, but he’d make her drink a cup of tea with him before having her put away paperwork while he worked in his home office. Y/n never thought too much of it, she was sure most families had maids who did such things for them, but she could feel the eyes off the other maids on her any time she’d leave Mr. Shelby’s office or the sitting room that Mrs. Shelby usually sat in.
“What is your problem, Annabel?” Y/n barked, taking a seat at the servants dining table. She’d just left Mr. Shelby in his room, where she helped him into his dinner attire. There was supposed to be a dinner party tonight, all Mrs. Shelby’s idea. Y/n knew that Mr. Shelby could dress himself, but she also knew that some men had valets that helped them dress. If all he needed help with was dressing for rare dinner parties, then there was no need for a valet. But that didn’t mean one of the maids couldn’t help him.
Annabel shrugged, pushing around the food in front of her. The cook was only good at making one meal fit for the servants, stew, but he sure liked to try his hand at other things. Those things usually went uneaten. “Nothing, I just think it’s weird how the Shelbys always call on you,” she said honestly. Annabel wasn’t much older than Y/n, but she’d been a maid for a long time at many different homes and had never seen a family take such interest in one of their maids.
“There’s nothing weird about it,” she shook her head before glancing down at the plate in front of her. “They like me, that’s all. What is this?” She pointed to the brown paste on her plate.
“Don’t know, don’t wanna,” one of the older maids, Cora, remarked. “And it is weird, you fool. Of course they’ll have a favorite maid, but not one they call on just to chat or drink tea with. No one wants to do that with their servants just to be friendly.”
Y/n raised a brow, pushing her plate away from her. They would just have to eat some of the leftover tea biscuits . “I don’t understand. I’ve never done anything to make them do that and I don’t really like having to run from one to the other, if I’m to be honest.”
Cora smirked. “They probably like it.”
“What is that supposed to mean?” she demanded, knowing the statement meant something entirely to Cora as Annabel was equally confused.
The older woman shrugged, happy to have everyone’s attention. “Well, I don’t know about the Shelbys, but some couples like having a toy to play with. Oh, don’t act dumb, Y/n,” Cora rolled her eyes. “They are like cats and you’re the poor mouse they toss around. You should be lucky all you have to do is keep them company. There are some couples that want more than that.”
“What do you mean? What more could they want?”
“I can see why they like you,” Cora sighed. “You innocent little thing, I kinda feel bad for them. They probably don’t want to ruin you.”
“Cora!” Y/n whined, wishing she would just get to the point.
The woman waved her off. “Okay, okay. They just want sex, Y/n. That’s generally what they want. I doubt Mr. and Mrs. Shelby are any different, but you are. You’re naive and innocent.”
She nodded, leaning against the back of her chair. Though she was still a little confused, it made sense. She never understood why the two always wanted to see her. She’d never done anything to outshine the other maids. She was nothing special, always doing her work and keeping quiet, yet they still seemed to notice her. “What do I do?”
“Nothing, just be grateful you have a job,” Annabel told her.
“Oh, Annabel, shut up. You should be grateful you have a job, but you might be able to get more out of them since they like you so much,” Cora suggested.
Y/n frowned, she understood what Cora was saying, but the idea of using her employers made her feel guilty. They were kind to her, much kinder than her last employers. They treated her as an equal and made her feel wanted, which was more than she could say of the downstairs company. With how Cora explained it, it seemed like they were using her and it would only be fair to do the same, but Y/n wasn’t sure she could bring herself to do that. The more time she spent with them, the more she began to care for them. She used to fear any time they’d call for her, afraid they’d chew her up and spit her out, but now she carved being in their presences and missed them more than she should have when they’d leave for trips.
“You should talk to them. Even if you won’t ask them for anything, you could still figure out where you stand,” Cora said, giving her a reassuring smile upon seeing the conflict in her eyes. “Now, someone get the biscuits. I’m not eating this shit.”
*~~*~~*
Y/n popped her head into Mr. Shelby’s office as the door was left ajar. Mrs. Shelby sat on the sofa and Mr. Shelby was out in the hall talking with one of their guests as he saw the man out. Y/n cleared her throat to capture the woman’s attentioned. “You wanted to see me, Mrs. Shelby.”
“You are allowed to call me Lizzie, you know that,” she said with an amused smile. She seemed to have this conversation with the girl each time she called on her.
“Um, I know,” she said shyly, shuffling further into the room. “But I don’t think it would be right if I did.”
Lizzie raised a brow, she had never had a problem with it before when she would insist upon it. “Why is that?”
Y/n shrugged. “I’m just a maid. And it doesn’t seem fair when the others can’t.”
Shaking her head, her employer couldn’t help but chuckle. “Oh, sweets, you’re more than a maid to me and that’s why they can’t. They’re not you.”
“What do you mean?” she asked, replaying Cora’s words over and over. She was glad at least someone was willing to lay it all out for her.
Before Lizzie could respond, the door creaked open as Tommy stepped into the room. “Bates is finally gone, never thought the man would leave,” he groaned, going over to the liquor cabinet. “What’s going on in here?” he asked, looking between the two women.
“I asked Y/n to come join us for a drink, do you have a problem with that?” she asked her husband, who had just opened a new bottle of whiskey.
He shrugged, grabbing three glasses. “Not at all.”
“Good,” Lizzie smiled. “Y/n, please sit, relax a little. I think there is something we all need to discuss,” she said, patting the cushion next to her.
Y/n hesitated for a moment, but took a seat anyway. She knew they wouldn’t be mad if she chose not to, if she chose to go back to her room, but she didn’t like the idea of disappointing them. And she was curious to find out what it was Lizzie wanted to talk about.
With two full glasses, Tommy rounded the sofa, handing one to Lizzie before handing the other to Y/n. She stared at it for a moment, she’d never drank whiskey before. No one in her family drank and she’d never been one to visit pubs. “It will burn a bit,” he admitted, running a finger along her jawline before tilting her head up. “Just try a sip, sweetheart.”
She nodded, taking a small sip as she felt his eyes on her. It tasted different, new on her tongue before it slid smoothly down her throat, leaving it burning and wanting more.
Satisfied, Tommy fetched his own glass and fell into an armchair beside them. “That wasn’t so bad, was it?”
“No,” Y/n shook her head.
“Lizzie,” Tommy turned his attention to his wife. “What was it you wanted to talk about?”
She smiled, glad they could finally get to business. “I think it’s time we stopped toying with poor Y/n. She looks absolutely exhausted from being at our beck and call.”
Y/n sucked in a breath, staring at the amber liquid in her glass. She was going to be fired, that’s what this was about. They were tired of her already and why would they keep her on as a maid after that? Like Cora said, she was innocent and maybe that was off putting to them, making her too much work if they wanted anything else from her. It was almost laughable considering most people liked her innocence. She wasn’t one anyone ever worried about because of it.
“Oh,” Tommy drawled. “Just have her go back to cleaning then?” He didn’t sound too pleased about it as he shook his head. Y/n couldn’t help but glance between the two. She hoped his tone didn’t mean he wanted her sacked.
His wife shook her head, brown curls bouncing about. “No, no. That’s not what I was getting at. I think it might be better for all of us if we are honest about our relationship,” she suggested.
He nodded, taking a sip of his whiskey. “Go on then.”
Lizzie turned to Y/n, setting her glass on the small coffee table in front of them. “Listen, Y/n, I know this has all been really confusing for you and what you’ve been doing for us isn’t what you were hired for. I think it might be time to establish what is going on here.”
“And what is that?” she asked, more confused than ever.
“Oh, she’s adorable,” Tommy chuckled, catching her attention. Y/n frowned, knowing he was poking fun at her innocence. “You know we both are attracted to you. Even a nun could see that. Why do you think Lizzie has you drink tea with her and sits a little too close? Or why I ask you to help dress me for dinners when you know I can manage just fine on my own? We like you close, so we ask you to do this or that for us. Anything that we think you’d be comfortable doing.”
She swallowed the lump that had formed in her throat as she felt their eyes on her. “O-okay. Um, why are you telling me this now?” she asked, gripping her glass tighter.
He shrugged with a grin. “Because we know you feel the same.”
Y/n felt her cheeks heat up at his words, wishing she could flee the room. “I-”
“It’s alright, sweetheart, nothing to be ashamed of,” he told her. “We could make this work if you want. But only if you want.”
She nodded, biting the inside of her cheek. She wasn’t sure what exactly he was proposing, but she wanted to accept. She really didn’t care what they were asking of her, she would do anything they asked. If they asked her to jump, she was sure she’d ask how high. “I, um, don’t know. I’ve never done anything, anything at all like this. It would… I’m not experienced and I don’t want to be a disappointment. I-”
“Hey, hey, enough of that,” Lizzie interrupted, fearing she’d continue on with her ramble if no one stopped her. “That doesn’t matter, not right now. We can teach you anything you want to know and we can go at your pace. We don’t want to do anything you’re uncomfortable with, okay?” she asked with a reassuring smile.
“Yeah, yeah,” Y/n nodded with a small smile. “But-”
“Come here,” Tommy cooed, setting his glass down. Hesitantly, she placed her glass on the coffee table and came to stand in front of him. “No more of that,” he said soothingly, pulling her on to his lap. “If you don’t want this, that’s fine. We won’t be mad,” he said as she snuggled into his chest. It felt right to be so close to him, soaking in his warmth. “We will go at your pace, you know that, right? We care about you and we won’t do anything to hurt you.”
“Okay,” she mumbled.
Lizzie stood with a smile. “We can talk about this more in the morning,” she said, caressing Y/n’s cheek. “But now we should get you to bed, you look tired.”
She nodded, holding back a yawn. She had been up since the early house of the morning polishing all the silver before tending to other chores.
Lizzie helped her to her feet. “There’s a nice warm bed upstairs calling your name,” she smiled, wrapping an arm around Y/n’s waist.
“But I sleep downstairs.”
“Not anymore,” she whispered. “We can talk about that all tomorrow. I’ll be right back, Tommy.” He nodded as the two walked out of the room.
The pair ended up in one of the guest bedrooms. It was twice the size of Y/n’s room downstairs and much nicer. To her, it was like a room at Buckingham Place, but it was just an ordinary room to Lizzie. When Y/n was tucked under the covers, eyes drowsy, Lizzie gave her a smile before kissing her forehead. “In the morning, come eat breakfast with us. We can talk this all over then, okay?”
Y/n nodded, mumbling, “M’kay.”
“Goodnight, sweets.”
*~~*~~*
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Summary: Tommy slowly begins to develop feelings for his wife, but does his best to keep it to himself. Then she goes and faints while gardening, leaving him to learn something new about her. And he may just have to take up the task of gardening while she rests.
Thomas Shelby x Female!Reader
Word Count:2k
Warnings: Arranged marriage (gotta warn those who swoon over that) fluff
A/n: Okay, this is super self indulgent, like I’ve been thinking about this for a couple days now and I knew I had to write it. And I’m liking the whole arranged marriage trope more and more. So this has just hit every mark for me and it makes me so happy. I’m so tempted to write a second part about Tommy actually gardening. Idk why, but I think it would just be hot seeing him covered in dirt, planting flowers. Like I want that! And I’m sure I’m not the only on.
“Y/n,” Tommy called as he walked out into the garden. It was early morning, but as it was summer, the morning air was starting to warm up, making it a perfect time to enjoy the outdoors. Rounding a hedge, a small smile crept across his face when his eyes landed on his wife, kneeling in the tug up soil with a lily in her hand. “How’s the garden going?”
She turned to him, flashing him a sweet smile. He loved that smile, but he would never admit it. “Good. I’m going to pick some more plants up today, if that’s okay?”
He nodded and stuffed his hands in his trouser pockets. “You know you don’t need to ask me that, love. My money is your money.”
Their marriage wasn’t the most conventional one, seeing as how it was arranged to create an alliance between Y/n’s family and the Peaky Blinders. It was better than expected, though. Tommy and Y/n managed to get along, mainly because Y/n didn’t seem to have a mean bone in her body. She had been hesitant to trust him at first, but she was kind, always giving him a smile here and there. And they usually kept to themselves, at least Tommy made a point to in the beginning. He had a hard time with that after a while as he was always curious as to what she was getting up to. But Y/n was never bored, that he learned. If she wasn’t reading in the library, she was annoying the cook by baking in the kitchen, or trying to garden alongside the gardener. The only reason she was planting flowers was because the gardener had kicked her out of the greenhouse.
And as much as Tommy didn’t want to care about his wife, as much as he wanted it to just be a business arrangement, he could help but love seeing her doing the things she loved.
“Yeah, I know. Um, are you gonna be home for dinner?” she asked sheepishly, seeing he was dressed in a suit with one of his caps pulled lower over his forehead, ready to head to the office.
Tommy shook his head. “I don’t think so.”
“Tell Francis. That new cook gives her hell anytime he makes food for the both of us and I end up being the only one at diner.”
“I’ll let her know. Well, I gotta go,” he said, glancing down at his watch. “I’ll be home tonight.”
“Have a good day,’ she smiled before turning back to the plant in her hand.
Tommy turned on his heels, wishing he could kiss her goodby, but he’d never done that before. He hadn’t done anything with her, except kiss her on their wedding day months ago. They both slept in different rooms, drawing a clear line where their relationship stood. Tommy wished that line could be drawn in the sand and washed away. Glancing back at her form, he wished he hadn’t been so cold in the beginning because now all he wanted was her. A thought that he wished he could shake from his mind.
She would be the death of him, he was sure of it, as he hated leaving her each day.
*~~*~~*
A few hours later, in the afternoon, Tommy heard the phone ring out at Lizzie’s desk as he looked over one of the books. Polly swore the new employees were useless but Tommy wasn’t finding any of the mistakes she swore would be in there. If they kept up with the good work, Tommy would probably be able to leave on time for the first time in forever. His concentration was broken when the phone on his desk began to ring. He groaned before picking it up. “Hello,” he nearly barked with irritation.
“Mr. Shelby.” It was Francis and she sounded serious. He’d told her he wouldn’t be home for dinner, so there should have been no reason for the cook to bother her about it.
“Is something wrong, Francis?” He drummed the fingers of his free hand against his desk. With the large staff he had at the house, he was sure there was a number of things that could go wrong.
“Yes, it’s Mrs. Shelby, sir,” she said as Tommy sucked in a sharp breath. “She fainted out in the garden. She said not to worry you with it, but she looks clammy and probably should see a doctor, but she refuses to let me call one.”
Releasing a shaky breath, he swore under his breath. He should have brought her out some water or something. There was no shade where she had been working and if he wasn’t home, there probably wasn’t anyone who would try to get her to come in out of the heat.
“Mr. Shelby?”
“Um, I’ll be right there, Francis. Make her drink some water and I’ll talk to her about seeing a doctor,” he rushed, standing to fix the papers on his desk. When Francis agreed to the request, he hung up the phone, shoved a few papers under his arm before grabbing his coat off the rack.
“Where are you going?” Lizzie asked, startled, as he burst out of his office, fingers ceased on the typewriter in front of her as she stared up at him.
“Home. Tell Polly she’s in charge and the books have been looked over. They’re on my desk if she wants them,” he informed her, quickly descending the stairs before she could even get in a word.
*~~*~~*
Tommy arrived home in record time, aggressively navigating the streets. He didn’t want to know how many accidents he’d caused on the way home, but he was sure there were a couple. Jumping out of the car, quick strides carried him to the house as the door quickly opened, Francis appearing behind it.
“She’s in your office,” she said, shutting the door before leading the way.
He raised a brow, leaving his papers on a table in the hall. “Why isn’t she in bed?”
“It was closer, sir,” the maid shrugged and opened the door to his large office.
Y/n sat on the sofa with a cup of what he hoped was water in her hands. She glanced over at them, giving him a weak smile. “Thank you, Francis,” he said and turned to his wife once she’d left.
“I thought you weren’t going to be home until late,” she said when he fully entered the room, shutting the door behind him. Tommy didn’t respond, instead coming to stand in front of her. He rested the palm of his hand against her cheek, looking her over with concerned eyes.
He let out a sigh. “You know why I’m here, love. Wanna tell me what happened and why you didn’t want Francis to call me.”
She whined, falling back against the cushions. It was clear she thought the incident wouldn’t have to be mentioned to him if it weren’t for Francis. Tommy plucked the cup out of her hands, which happened to be full of tea, and placed it on the small coffee table beside the sofa. He walked over to his desk and leaned against it, eyes trained on her.
“Oh, don’t look at me like that,” she complained with a pout.
He folded his arms over his chest. “Then don’t act like a child. Now, spill it.”
“Nothing really happened. I was planting the new flowers I got. I stood to grab another tray and I fainted. That’s all there is to it.”
Tommy shook his head. “Then why wasn’t I supposed to know?”
Y/n groaned. “Oh, don’t act like I wasn’t going to tell you eventually. I… I just didn’t want to bother you at work,” she confessed. “You have more important things to deal with than this.”
“Excuse me,” he stared at her, eyes wide. “My wife collapsing in the heat is important. Don’t you ever go thinking my work is more important than you.” She nodded, eyes trained on the persian rug beneath her. “Now, I’m going to call a doctor.”
“No, no,” she waved him off, eyes darting up to meet his, and pushed herself off the soft cushions. She didn’t get very far before her legs started to shake.
“Hey.” Tommy rushed to her side and helped her back onto the sofa. “Just sit, would you?”
She huffed, glaring up at him. “I’m fine, Tommy. Really.”
But her husband wasn’t convinced as he shook his head. “No, you’re not. And even if you are, I would feel much better if a doctor was the one saying that.”
“Well, I don’t want to see a doctor,” she said firmly, folding her arms across her chest. “It would be a waste of money.”
Tommy clicked his tongue, looking her in the eye. A thought crossed his mind as he took in her posture. “Are… Are you afraid of doctors?”
Y/n looked at him with wide eyes before they sheepishly fell to the ground. “I wouldn’t say ‘afraid.’ I just don’t like them,” she whispered, hands falling into her lap.
Pushing himself off his desk, Tommy came over to her. Falling onto the sofa beside her, he grabbed one of her hands, giving it a squeeze. “You know you could have just said that,” he said, eyes trained on her face.
“But it’s silly.”
“It’s not silly to me, love,” he said softly. “Come here.” He gently pulled her into his lap. He’d never held her before, but it felt right as she rested her head against his shoulder. “Would it make you feel better if I stayed in the room?”
She hummed, before saying, “You won’t be lurking in the corner, will you?”
He chuckled, kissing her forehead. “Only if you want me to.”
“Okay,” she finally said, snuggling closer.
*~~*~~*
A little while later Tommy called the doctor, who had told him exactly what he expected, that she hadn’t been drinking enough water and had spent too much time in the heat. Y/n may have been right, it wasn’t worth the money, but he knew she would be more willing to listen to him if a doctor agreed. Once the doctor had left, Tommy handed her a warm cup of tea that Francis had brought in. Y/n happily accepted it, sipping on the warm liquid.
“Does this mean I can’t finish planting the rest of the flowers?” she asked, looking up at her husband who was sitting at his desk.
He nodded, a glass of whiskey in one hand and a cigarette in the other. “Yes, it does.”
Y/n frowned, staring at the leaves in her tea. “But they need to be planted!” she complained.
“Not by you,” Tommy pointed out. “You heard the doctor, you are to rest and drink lots of water. There will be no gardening for you.”
“Tommy!” she whined with pleading eyes, but he held his ground. “Oh, you’re just out to kill my flowers,” she mumbled.
He rolled his eyes. “No, I’m not. You won’t be planting them, I will.”
Y/n raised a brow, taking a sip of her tea. “You don’t garden.”
“It doesn’t look hard,” he said with a shrug, but he was sure he’d be proven wrong. “You can sit in a chair, in the shade-” He emphasized the last bit. “-and watch, while I plant them. You can tell me exactly how you want it done and all that, but you will keep your arse in that chair and be drinking water.”
She wasn’t too happy about that, but nodded. It would be interesting to see Tommy gardening, she’d need to get a picture of it. “Okay, okay, Mr. Shelby. Have it your way.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Shelby. And I will be working from home the rest of the week,” he stated with a small smile.
Y/n chuckled, “Don’t tell me it’s to make sure I follow doctor’s orders.”
Tommy shrugged with a smile. He was sure Y/n would be a pain in the arse the rest of the week, but he wouldn’t trade it for the world. It was about time he spent some quality time with his wife. He may be able to give her any material item she wanted, but she deserved better than that. And he would make sure she knew that. That was, of course, if he survived gardening.
*~~*~~*~~*
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Requests: hiii, i’ve got a request. reader dating thomas shelby and she’s so much younger than him and she always feels a bit insecure and jealous when tommy is talking with these older women who are closer to his age (like maybe tommy is taking her to a party and tatiana is there) and tommy convinces her later after she told him what’s bothering her that he only wants her
can you write about the scene where tatiana tried to rile up the reader like she did with grace the charity event scene s3ep2? minus the “does your wife know the sapphire has been cursed by the gypsy”
Requested by Anonymous & Anonymous
Thomas Shelby x Female!Reader
Word Count: 2.4k
Warnings: Alcohol, language, jealousy, lil angst, nice fluff ending
A/n: I’m a little pissed since the second request was sent to one of my mutuals. We were both equally upset about it, but nonetheless I still accepted it. But please don’t send a request to me that you’ve also sent to other writers unless they have turned it down. On a different note, this isn’t my best work. I was struggling to write it and I’m not a huge fan of the beginning, but I do like the ending. So, enjoy.
With a room filled with chatter, Y/n felt out of place. There she stood, near the corner, lips sealed tightly together as she watched the party around her. It wasn’t usual for her to be in the corner like a wallflower, but it seemed that was to be her place for the night. It wasn’t a horrible thing, she could drink her wine in peace and not have to make small talk. But it allowed her mind to graze over things in a different, unpleasant view.
From across the room, she spied her date, who like always, had abandoned her. Usually, Y/n didn’t mind as she knew Tommy was simply in business mode. He sought out potential business partners like predators sought out prey. She never gave it much thought and would usually find someone to talk to. Normally it was Polly who would also come along to such events. But at this certain party, Polly was nowhere to be found, something Y/n was sure had to do with Michael. Tommy hadn’t gone into detail, but Polly was beyond furious at the boy and seemed ready to kill when she’d gone home. A charity event wasn’t the place for an angry mother.
Tonight was much different than any normal event. Y/n stood alone while Tommy stood around a group of men, with a woman nearly hanging off his arm. Sucking in a breath, she tried not to think too much into it. Women loved Thomas Shelby, that was old news, and it appeared Tommy wasn’t giving her any thought. But that didn’t mean he hadn’t…
Brushing it off, Y/n stood straight, sipping on her wine. She had nothing to fear, not when Tommy was too focused on the conversation he was having with some factory owner, and certainly not when he hadn’t even cast an eye at the woman standing beside him. But then the woman’s lips moved, turning Tommy’s attention toward her and a faint smile painted his lips, causing Y/n choke on her wine.
Dear god, the woman had managed to get Thomas Shelby to smile, that was even a rare feat for his own girlfriend to even do.
A shaky breath escaped Y/n’s lips. There was no need to be jealous, he was just being polite, that’s what she told herself over and over again. There was no need to worry or think too much into it, but she found herself doing just that.
Y/n knew it was normal to be jealous sometimes or insecure, but she felt ashamed for such feelings when it came to Tommy. He wasn’t property, he wasn’t her’s, and she had no right to be territorial over him. But sometimes she couldn’t help it. And the jealousy that erupted anytime a woman approached him with hopeful eyes came from the insecurities that she buried deep inside.
Y/n and Tommy never discussed the age gap between them. Tommy believed there was nothing to discuss, but Y/n often felt otherwise. She was young, far too young for some when she mentioned who her boyfriend was. When people looked at Tommy, they saw a mature, older woman by his side, someone like Grace or Lizzie. A young woman, naive to many of the evils of the world, was not someone they placed next to a man like him.
Beliefs like those dug at her, making her wonder if she even deserved that position. She was young and less experienced in so many different ways than Tommy’s previous girlfriends. She didn’t have a tough exterior or ideas that could change the world. She wasn’t anything special and, to many people, she shouldn’t have caught Thomas Shelby’s eye.
Y/n wasn’t sure how much time had passed, but she had managed to drink four glasses of wine and stare daggers in the direction of her boyfriend. More and more of his attention was being given to the brunette by his side as her smile grew bigger and she couldn’t keep her hands off him. Who she wished to take down with her daggers, Y/n couldn’t tell, but both would be in the cross fires.
Before she could make up her mind, the burnette detached herself from Tommy, causing Y/n to brighten up. Finally the woman was leaving him to find some other man to seduce. Oh, but Y/n couldn’t get that lucky, could she? Not when the woman was walking straight towards her.
“Are you enjoying the party?” the woman asked in a Russian accent, coming to stand in front of her.
Swallowing, Y/n searched for an escape but there were none to be had. “Um… yes. Are you?”
The woman smiled upon hearing the hesitation in her answer. “Oh, yes. Your boyfriend is wonderful company.”
Biting the inside of her cheek, Y/n stared at the woman with wide eyes. She hadn’t expected her to be so up front about it. “Oh, yes, he is. May I ask who you are?” She wasn’t sure she wanted to know, but this woman seemed to know exactly who she was.
“Tatiana Petrovna. And it doesn’t seem to me like you’re wonderful company considering he practically fled as soon as he could get away.”
Tatiana was delighted to deliver the blow, Y/n could see it in her eyes, but did her best to avoid a reaction. Under her composed features, Y/n wasn’t sure if she wanted to slap the woman or applaud her for such forward words. “He’s a busy man, Tatiana, this is merely business to him.”
“I’m sure,” she hummed, turning her gaze toward the man in question. “I’m sure that’s what he’d like you to believe.”
“Excuse me?” Y/n asked, fingers tightening around her glass. If the woman kept it up, Y/n was sure the glass would end up in shards on the floor.
“Oh, you know how men are,” she said playfully, poking at any nerve she could find. “He probably makes everything seem like business, even when he’s fucking a whore. That’s all just business to him.”
She hummed, biting her tongue. Nothing good would come from making a scene. But maybe that’s what Tatiana wanted. Maybe she wanted to just get under Y/n’s skin in order to wiggle her way in between her and Tommy. Y/n couldn’t lie, this woman knew exactly what she was doing and Y/n feared that it would work. With her insecurities about their age gap and everyone’s expectations for Tommy’s love life, Y/n was already bottling up so much. This, whatever this was, might just be what would be enough to break the bottle.
“Don’t worry, though, I won’t fuck him if he asks. He’ll have to buy me a drink first.” Tatiana winked with a grin before walking away.
Y/n shook with anger as she sucked in a breath. Out of all the women she’d met, that one had to be the worst. Lizzie may have been jealous that Y/n was dating Tommy but she had never gone out of her way to say things such as that, and Y/n knew she had plenty of ammunition. Tatiana wasn’t a jealous woman after her man, that she could tell, she was a woman willing to play games to get what she wanted. She walked away like the world owed her something and she would trick it into giving it to her. That was a dangerous game, one Y/n didn’t want to play. Gulping the rest of her wine down, Y/n grabbed another off a platter as a waiter walked by, praying that Tommy would be ready to leave soon, fearing the woman would come back to torment her some more.
*~~*~~*
Tommy let out a tired sigh as soon as they reached the bedroom. It had been a long night and he was glad there was no reason for them to stay any longer than they had. He had also spied Y/n during the night with three different glasses of wine and had a feeling that she’d drank more than he’d seen. So, he decided it was best to go home before she drank too much and he’d have to carry her to the car. Undoing his tie, he glanced over at her sitting on the bed, struggling to undo her shoes. “Would you like some help with that, love?”
She shook her head, continuing to try and undo the strap. Eventually she got her shoes off and stood on shaky feet to go wash off her makeup.
“Y/n, sit down,” Tommy insisted, coming over to her side. All the wine she’d had was starting to get to her, making her eyelids heavy and her legs shaky. “I’ll get a washcloth.”
“No, no. I can do it,” she mumbled, not in the mood to talk to him. As much as she was glad to have left the party, that meant she would have to be alone with Tommy. After what Tatiana had said to her, she wasn’t so sure that was a good idea.
Shaking his head, he grabbed her elbow to help steady her. She’d fall on her face without his steady hand. “Let me help you then, I don’t want you to fall.” She didn’t argue as he led her to the bathroom or when he sat her on the toilet. Grabbing a washcloth, Tommy ran it under warm water before handing it to her. “Here.”
“Thank you,” she said, grabbing the cloth.
“Would you like a glass of water? It might make you feel better,” he suggested. “I’ll do it for you, love,” Tommy said gently, plucking the cloth from her hands when he saw her stare down at it without moving. She looked too tired to care who did it and he just wanted to get her to bed.
Gently, he ran the cloth over her face, making sure to get all of her makeup. When he was satisfied, he threw the rag in the sink and helped her to her feet. “Are you okay, Y/n?” It was a stupid question to ask taking into account she was clearly drunk. But behind the tired eyes and sluggish limbs, she looked sad, distant even.
She nodded, pushing past him, but didn’t get very far when he gently reached for her hand. “I’m fine, Tommy,” she insisted, slurring her words a bit.
Pulling her back to him, he shook his head. “No, you’re not. Please tell me what’s wrong,” he pleaded, caressing her cheek. “Please.”
Avoiding his gaze, Y/n fell into him, letting him wrap her in his safe embrace. “Can’t we just go to bed?” she asked, voice muffled by his shirt.
“Sleep won’t solve every problem. Could you just tell me what’s wrong? Then we can go to bed.”
Y/n sighed. She didn’t want to talk about it, she just wanted to go to bed and forget about the whole thing. It was silly, anyway. It was just some stupid comments that only held meaning to her. Tommy would shrug them off like he normally did and that would be the end of it. It wouldn’t be worth mentioning in the end. “Just leave it, Tom.”
“Tell me, I don’t care what it is, just tell me,” Tommy whispered, his breath tickling her ear.
“It’s silly,” she confessed, sounding like a child.
Tommy chuckled. “I don’t care if it’s silly. If it bothers you, I care about it.”
She huffed, giving in. “Sometimes I get a little self conscious about us- No, no,” she restarted, looking up and seeing her boyfriend’s hurt expression. “Oh, Tommy, no. I… oh, I don’t know how to say this. That woman, Tatiana, she said some nasty things to me at the party.” Every word was still fresh in her ears, playing over and over again at the mention of her name.
Tommy seemed to breathe a sigh of relief at the mention of the brunette. “Hey, don’t listen to her. She always tries to get a rise out of people,” he tried to assure her. Tatiana was a pain to deal with, he should have known that she would find her way over to Y/n.
“No.” She pushed herself away from him. “It’s not just what she said. It’s fucking everyone! Everyone thinks I’m too young for you, too immature, too this or too that! Just not good enough!” she yelled. Taking a deep breath, she turned away from him. “And I try to ignore it all like you do. I really do, but sometimes I can’t.” Tears pricked her eyes as she faced him and said, “Sometimes I believe what they say. I mean, how can I be good enough for you when I care too much about other people’s opinions.”
Taken back by her words, Tommy was frozen, eyes trained on her until a sob filled the bathroom and tears rolled down her cheeks. “Y/n, hey-” He approached her carefully, afraid of being shoved away once more. “-that’s okay. It’s okay. There’s nothing wrong with that,” he cooed, cupping her face and wiping the tears away with the pads of his thumb. “Look at me, baby. Look at me.”
Y/n flicked her eyes up to his, sniffling.
“I don’t care how old or young you are, do you hear me?” He paused, only continuing when she nodded. “I don’t care what anyone else has to say about our relationship. It’s ours not theirs, they can all fuck off. They can all fuck off because you are the only one I want, okay?”
“Okay,” she mumbled, leaning into his touch.
“And if anyone says anything like that to you again, you tell me. You don’t keep that to yourself, you tell me and I’ll take care of it.”
Y/n hummed before a yawn escaped her lips. “I’m sorry for not mentioning it.”
“Don’t be,” Tommy said. “You’ve told me and that’s all that matters now. We can get past this. And no more talking to Tatiana, eh?”
Y/n let out a small laugh. “Yeah, she’s bitch.”
That they could both agree on. “Alright, let’s get you to bed now,” Tommy said with a laugh. “Come on.” He shooed her into the bedroom. “I’m tired and you’re still drunk, so let’s go to bed.”
There was no way Y/n was going to disagree with that. She was exhausted both mentally and physically. At the next party Tommy tried to drag her to, she would make sure he didn’t leave her side. There was no way in hell she was going to get caught alone with Tatiana once again.
*~~*~~*
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The line of sheer light was narrow. Birds were singing a delicate serenade of love and war. Branches of lonely trees swayed back and forth in the rising wind. An uncommon silence ruled under the roof of the mansion. The world had stopped and the waves no longer screamed in agony.
(A/N: It’s been so long omg!! This is just a short lil imagine to get me back into writing, but it’s still rlly cute. If you enjoy, like and reblog pls! requests r always open. ily, ty <3)
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It was nearly Christmas. Two days until. Snow laid thick on the streets and still, more fell. As soon as she’d gotten home from the factory, she’d slipped out of her blouse and skirt and into one of Thomas’ night shirts. They provided her with the warmth that he hadn’t been for the past few weeks. Always off on business, coming home late and drunk, sleeping on the sofa downstairs and leaving her alone.
She’d crawled into bed, pulled the sheets over her body and lit the end of a cigarette. It was only four o'clock, but it was dark outside and so she used the match to light the lantern next to the bed. She lit the one on Tommy’s side too, she always did, hopeful that he’d come to bed when he got home.
She heard the door open and close, and wondered if maybe Ada or Polly had stopped by for a chat, or to drop in Christmas presents, surely Tommy couldn’t have been home so soon. But no one called out, both Ada and Polly would’ve called out.
Footsteps climbing the stairs, heavy footsteps, she knew Tommy’s footsteps. He was home early, he’d forgotten something, his hat, cigarettes, he wasn’t going to stay for long, he’d be gone in ten minutes and back for midnight with a bottle of white rum.
The door to the bedroom opened and she turned her body away from it, blowing the last of the smoke from the corner of her lips and then stubbing out the cigarette in the crystal ashtray on the sideboard.
Tommy took off his jacket and let it fall to the floor, undid his tie, the top button of his shirt, took off his shoes and tossed his hat onto the coat stand. He didn’t bother getting changed, he figured he’d do that later.
“You’re here to stay, I take it?” Y/N spoke up. She still hadn’t even looked in his general direction, was refusing to, he understood why. “First time in a long time.”
“Thought I’d come home early.” The passive tone to his voice only made her angrier, the fact that he clearly had no idea that she was upset, the fact that he didn’t even think that she would be upset, after he’d ignored her for weeks-
“To make up for the weeks you haven’t?” She spat. Thomas closed his eyes and sighed, he knew that she wouldn’t be willing to let it go easily, but he hadn’t the energy to argue with her, and he knew that she probably didn’t have it either.
“I figured, yes.” She didn’t say anything as she watched him light a cigarette, shake out the match, and then get into bed beside her. She instinctively moved closer, the warmth of his body feeling familiar and homely, but she caught herself and moved back towards her side.
The room was quiet for a few minutes, the only sounds coming from the crackling of the lamps and Tommy’s inhales and exhales of smoke. He stubbed out his cigarette and, before Y/N could protest, was reaching out for her and pulling her close to his body.
“Don’t touch me, Thomas. Don’t act like-” She was squirming to get away from his grasp like a child, she had to keep up the idea that she was angry even if she really wanted nothing more than for him to hold her close and kiss her because she had missed him.
“I’m not acting like anything, Y/N.” Thomas sighed into her shoulder and she had to close her eyes because she knew that she would give in to him. The man really could make her do whatever he wanted her to. “It’s fucking freezing, you’re fucking freezing. Let me do this, you can be mad in the morning.”
And she couldn’t resist. And so she did let him. She huffed and acted like she was angry, but when his arms found their place around her waist, hands settled on her stomach, when he buried his face in her neck and peppered kisses there, she couldn’t pretend.
So she settled back into him, he was warm and she was willing to forgive him because he was warm and because she needed that warmth to be able to get through the next day and the day after.
“I really am sorry, love. I’m so sorry. I just-” But she hushed him because she was content and didn’t want to remember that she was supposed to be annoyed with him.
“Don’t.” She smiled and turned around in his arms, reaching out to touch his face, let her fingers graze over new scratches and familiarise themselves with them, and then she kissed him. She kissed him slowly, letting the angst and the hurt melt away until all she could feel was Tommy. Not Thomas Shelby, not even Thomas, Tommy. Her Tommy.
thinking about how if you were scared of thunder ur fav would automatically move to cover your ears whenever lighting went off. like he wouldn’t even stop what they’re saying or look away from the tv, just mindlessly goes through the motion of covering ur ears because it’s second nature at this point :’)
made for display, part one. thomas shelby x reader
summary: a widely known performer seems to catch the attention of a gang leader who can’t seem to get her out of his head
warning/s: swearing, drinking, really bad writing because i don’t want to revise my old writing, smoking, harassment, and slight violence
slater’s note: this was originally a wattpad book of mine (just slightly edited) with an original character (kiera knightly as a faceclaim) but y’know, let me post it here
you love the way people stare at you even when they have no reason to. their eyes could simply be wandering the room and then land on you for no reason and just stick there.
you loved it because it gave you some form of power that no one could seem to place. the attention they fed you reflected off of you and gave you a glowing effect, attracting more eyes. it was a mentality really; no one could be you, no one could beat you, there was no like you.
however, the attention came to be a bit much when it came to certain men, especially men like harvey lucas. a man who made constant passes at you and when rejected; he made other equally indecent men make passes at you.
there was a constant growing of discomfort that would just form in the pit of your stomach each time he came into your vision. you just couldn’t avoid him no matter how hard you tried, he always found his way to you.
you made money by playing piano at the hudson; a large ballroom that was open every night, and had you play every saturday. you made good money but you also made good impressions on some of the men that would watch you, making it easy for harvey lucas to find someone to force on you.
you leaned against the copper bar rail with a glass of wine in hand as you observed the men and women that swung along to the music together.
a small smile of amusement formed on your face as you continued to watch until it was suddenly dropped when you saw the eager face of harvey from the corner of your eye; he was looking for someone.
he was looking for you.
you quickly adjusted yourself off the bar railing, setting down the glass half full of thick red wine before pushing yourself into the crowd of dancing people in hopes his eyes wouldn’t catch you.
you looked around frantically, looking for someone to hide behind or to just to talk to so you could drown out harvey who was soon to find you. it was always better with the company of another person, it always made it hard for the man to push on his abrasive words.
your eyes land on a man who, conveniently, was looking right at you. you almost smirk but he slowly diverts his eyes to somewhere else with a blank expression, almost thinking you wouldn’t notice him if he was subtle, but it was too late, he was already quick pray.
you glided across the slick polished wooden floors to the man who stood to the side with a glass of whiskey.
you smile when his eyes find their way back to you when you’re only five feet away. he seems unaffected, as if he expected you to come around eventually, like this was his plan the whole time, even as he had no idea who you were.
and you smiled to yourself knowing he was very well unaware that you had no intention in sleeping with him, but only to escape from the drooling men that chased after you.
“do you dance?”
maybe you liked him, chose him because he wasn’t drooling all over you, and of course that’s the way things go? you desire the ones who don’t desire you.
he nods slowly and always hesitantly, taking a sip of the drink in his hand, not offering you any verbal response. but you take that as an opening to drag him onto the dance floor as he wasn’t speaking; wasn’t protesting.
eyes seemed to land on the two of you, including the ones of harvey who was after you. you smiles to yourself as you can see the disappointment clouding his features from the corner of your eye.
thank god.
thomas shelby reluctantly places his hand on your hip as well as lacing his fingers with yours. he purses his lips while studying your features as your eyes dart around the room, as if your anxiety was turned to a high and he found that strange.
“these people, mr. shelby, they take great interest in you,” you mumble while studying other people and the way they look at you, no, the way they look at him.
“who are you?”
you finally look to him, finding his icy eyes that seem to stare into your soul. they make you lightly shiver, but you keep your composure, slightly smiling to hide the fear that started to creep into the back of your mind.
you were a fool to consider him as a dance partner so lightly.
his eyebrows were raised high, “how do you know who i am?”
“i don’t.”
he leaves your eyes, looking at the crowds of people who you were referring to, and he frowns at your incorrect observation.
“they’re all staring at you.”
thomas has never seen you a day of his life until now. it took him on edge on how well you seemed to know him for no reason, but it’s as if he forgets how notorious him and his brothers are.
“they’re staring at the both of you.”
you closed your eyes tightly at the voice, leaving tommy all the more confused. he formed his lips in a tight line glancing at the man who stood uncomfortably close to the two of you who continued to dance to the music.
“fuck off, eh? harvey,” you mumbled, your eyes wandering around the cream colored room.
“wouldn’t you like that, huh, y/n?”
thomas looks between the two of you, loosening his grip on you and you notices right away, your head flipping to him. you give him a desperate look that he sees a lot from woman.
you didn’t want him to leave you to another conversation with the man that continued to stand next to you in an awkward stance.
but thomas fully lets go of you, nodding to the man named “harvey”.
you bite the inside of your cheek as you watch the man smooth down the front of his nice three-piece suit while walking away, back to his scotch.
“you look nice.”
you scoff, marching back to the bar where your alcoholic drink also awaited.
maybe, you thought, maybe if i act like he’s not here, he’ll go away.
but he didn’t. he continued to talk about the hotel room he had up in the hudson and how he was ready to go up at anytime.
“harvey, you really have no idea how much i’d like to strangle you right now,” you mumbled, connecting the tip of your wine glass to your lips.
you glanced his way while you take in the thick liquid down your throat. he thinks while looking at his shoes before looking back up to you.
he comes in really close to where his lips are connected to your ear, “i’d prefer to be the one who strangles while fucking you senseless.”
you could feel your blood boiling to the point you couldn’t even think, so you smashed your wine glass over the top of his head.
Heels clicked against the concrete as smoke rose and dark stone muffled roaring laughter. Winter was in her eyes, not fearing the dangers of the night, nor the drunken men wandering down the rolling hill. The night was clear, and in the far, beyond the dense layer of rising mist, faint light gleamed.
Curls framed her delicate features. A deep tone, red as crimson, adorned her lips. Silver didn’t shine in the pale light of the moon, was covered by the material of the long coat in deep tones, a few sizes too big for her, but it did not hide her feminine curves, did not seem from far away like a man strolling through the streets of the town.
Her gloved hand slipped into the pocket of her coat and the golden pocket watch surfaced, and she knew at once she had plenty of time left. Y/N knew the man who had called in the early hours of the morning and wanted to arrange a meeting with the head of the company, but Y/N didn’t know if she should be delighted that she was getting a new business partner or if she was about to face her death in a lonely alley after midnight. Her features weren’t troubled as Y/N remembered the stories her men told her, respected her, and didn’t want to find her dead body in the newspapers. The men following her loyally wanted to accompany the young woman to the meeting with the Shelby, but Y/N denied their help, knew she didn’t need someone by her side to protect her from the dangers of the night, let alone a respected man she had heard a lot about.
The cold of the night mingled with the warmth of the bar and the gust carried the doubts away and caressed her left cheek. Y/N gave a smile to the man in the greyish suit who held the door open for her and showed with his outstretched right hand she should enter the pub in Small Heath.
“Thank you very much, sir.” Y/N greeted the man in a friendly tone.
The man nodded and stepped aside to allow Y/N to enter the crowded pub filled with roaring laughter resembling a raging waterfall and delicate tones.
“Good evening, a table for two, please. I assume my business partner is not here yet.” Y/N spoke in the waitress’s direction, who looked at her questioningly.
The blonde-haired woman in the dark dress turned to Y/N as her gaze travelled from man to man, searching for Thomas Shelby, but she couldn’t find him among the many guests seated with whiskey and rum at the tables.
“Of course, the table here in the corner is not occupied or reserved. May I offer you a drink?”, “A whiskey, please. I’m sorry, I sadly don’t know what he prefers, so if I could ask you to come back to the table, you’d be very kind.” Y/N answered politely.
“Of course, what brand may I offer?” the woman asked.
“The Macallan, please,” Y/N answered without a second thought.
The features of the woman with the ageless features paled. Her coal eyes widened; was sure she had misunderstood.
"My lady, this is one of our expensive whiskeys, the most expensive we offer this very day. I can offer you one in a lower price range.“, "I know, it has a sweet note, an aroma reminiscent of honey. It´s very lovely, my father introduced me to this brand a few years ago.” Y/N said.
“With a nutty note.” the woman continued.
“That’s exactly what I mean. A glass, please. I’ll wait here so you don’t have to go to the far corner. I used to work as a waitress myself and I can understand too well how much the feet hurt in the evening after a long shift.” joked Y/N.
The woman was speechless for a moment and then turned her back on Y/N, making her way to fulfil the woman’s wish.
“Here, if you have another wish, please let me know,” “Should I pay now or later when I leave the bar?”, “Later, I wish you a wonderful evening and please let me know if the gentlemen bother you, we women have to stay close together.“ she laughed.
"Thank you but I can defend myself and before anyone would dare to raise their hand against me, they would already be on the floor and begging for mercy,” Y/N assured with a smile, knowing she could defend herself, that no man would overpower her.
Taking the wide glass gratefully, Y/N clasped it but did not bring it to her mouth and made her way to the table the server had shown her. With a friendly expression, Y/N greeted the guests seated at the various round tables. The men looked up from the cards and the women greeted Y/N as she nearly danced through the rows of tables, but her keen eyes did not notice the pair of blue eyes settling on her.
The taste of rum coated his lips and filled his mouth, but his senses were not dulled, saw sharply. Questioningly the brothers stared at each other. Laughing low Thomas looked from Arthur to John, sitting directly opposite him with a glass of rum. Uncertainly, the brothers looked at each other, not sure if it was the person Thomas had arranged to meet in the pub in the town. Confused, Arthur stared at Thomas and immediately noticed that he was just as confused as he was, no longer understanding anything, and was certain they would encounter a man in his late forties in a suit and a hunched stomach.
“Do you think it’s the business partner you have a meeting with today?” John asked.
“I spoke to his secretary. She agreed to schedule a meeting at ten o'clock. What time is it?”, “Exactly ten. You shouldn’t keep her waiting.” John joked in a low tone.
“I think we can leave John; I believe Thomas won’t need our support,” Arthur added amused. “It could also be an accident. Maybe it’s the secretary and her boss wants her to talk to you first and then you’ll meet him. You should be on your way, though. It’s not good to keep a lady waiting.” cackled Arthur sarcastically.
Thomas shook his head and constantly looked out of the corner of his eye in the direction of the woman who had settled down in the corner of the bar. Wordlessly Thomas rose from the chair, pushed it back and it almost collided with the solid wall. His deft fingers clutched the dark tie, straightened it, and walked forward after closing the buttons of his suit jacket in dark tones. Passing the tables, the tall man went straight to the table where the young woman sat.
Y/N had taken off her long coat and her eyes were fixed on the newspaper someone had left behind, flicking through the pages without really paying attention to the written lines and the black and white coloured pictures.
Footsteps echoed and broke through the tumult of dozens of voices. The gazes met and Thomas at once knew she must be the person he had talked to in the early hours of the day. A smile forced him to do the same. The young woman rose from her place on the long leather upholstered bench and straightened the flowing material of her dress.
"Pleased to make your acquaintance Mister Shelby, I presume.” Y/N breathed and Thomas took the hand Y/N held out to him.
She wanted to exchange a firm handshake; a habit she had developed after countless of meetings. Her heart collided with her chest. Her lips no longer touched as her eyes widened, threatening to lose her composure as she felt his lips leave a kiss on the back of her hand.
“Thomas Shelby, but you may call me Thomas. And with whom do I have the pleasure?” he inquired.
“Y/N Williams, it’s a pleasure to meet you,” Y/N said.
“I suppose your boss sent you, I’ve witnessed a lot in my life but certainly not a secretary sent on an important meeting.” Thomas continued.
An objection wanted to escape, wanting to correct the tall man, but then she agreed and nodded.
“May I?”, “Of course, please sit down,” Y/N said politely.
Thomas sat down directly opposite Y/N. The puzzled expression draining from her face escaped him as the mischievous grin spreading widely across her lips.
“I have also seen many things in my life. Hardly anything can upset me after all these years. You may be right, it is very unusual, but my boss is awfully busy.”, “A struggle I can very much understand. A delicate woman like you? I can’t imagine you witnessed something horrible.” Thomas inquired.
Puzzled, he observed Y/N as she moistened her lips with the golden liquid, sure it must be whiskey. Her eyes flickered in amusement and witnessed the expression filling his gaze.
“I’ve worked in this business for a long time, and I’m sure you’ve seen a lot. It can be a war. You have to be on your guard all the time. I can understand why your brothers are accompanying you, but it’s really rude to stare and face us so they can try to read my lips. But I don’t blame you, Mister Shelby.” Y/N whispered.
A mischievous grin spread across his mouth and Thomas turned and shook his head as he spotted his brothers repositioning themselves, just as the woman had said to observe them more closely. Thomas felt his brothers’ stares resting on them and thought he could hear the questions escaping their lips. He was puzzled by the woman. There was a smile on his face as he crossed his arms in front of his chest. His eyes gleamed in delight. Carefully he studied her profile, traced the contours of her face and stopped at her eyes, convinced he’d seen the colour, the expression, once in his life.
“Have we met before?”, “I doubt it. I’m not from this town. I am from the southern part of the land. Have you served Thomas?” Y/N.
She placed the nearly empty glass on the table and the man nodded in response.
“I suppose in France,” Y/N continued her questioning, forgetting why she was in the pub.
Again, the man in the dark suit nodded. She exhaled audibly, her hand almost colliding with her forehead, and laughed aloud, wondering why she hadn’t remembered the man’s unmistakable features earlier.
“Somme, France, and you were not alone, but with your older brother Arthur. I remember you. If I remember correctly, you had a wound in your upper left arm. A bullet very nasty wound, but we met on the ship and we were on the same train. And you insisted that I have to take care of your wounds and not my sisters. It was 1916, or 1917, but you had a uniform then and your hair was a bit longer,” Y/N laughed, amused, remembering the day they met on a relatively peaceful day in France.
The long-forgotten memories came back. His gaze spoke volumes, had forgotten these things completely, only remembered the worst days. The two seated at the table forgot about the world around them and thought they were alone in the crowded bar, without paying a moment’s attention to the people who were laughing and enjoying the evening and dancing to the lovely tunes played by the gramophone.
“Who could resist you, my darling? I know many men who would have parted with their legs only to wake up in your tent. You can’t blame me, but now we work in the same business.” Thomas joked, amused.
“War makes a lot of things out of people.” Y/N laughed.
“You are right. At the end of the day, we are all branded the same.” he continued.
“I visited France this summer, I was in Paris and suddenly I found myself on war ground, deep craters mark the hearts of the people and the vast stretches of land. But the meadows were blossoming, and the birds were singing their songs. But that’s surely not why you called Mister Shelby, to talk about old memories and war.” Y/N said.
Thomas quickly regained his composure, remembered why he had called her, and for a brief moment he had the feeling he was reuniting with an old friend after many years and talking about old times.
“Of course, I heard that the company produces and sells certain substances,” Thomas said.
“Yes, you heard right, Mr Shelby.”, “Please, we know each other for years, you can call me Thomas.” he corrected her.
“And how can I help you, Thomas? You could have asked me these questions over the phone.”, “I would like to cooperate with the company,” said Thomas.
Y/N grinned. Her hands rested on the table before the emptied glass.
“And I suppose it’s a deal I can’t refuse. I will personally deliver the first goods to you in the early hours of the morning, say around seven o'clock, and if everything is to your satisfaction, then we can talk about the future cooperation.”, “That sounds good, I am already looking forward to your visit. I hope to meet your chef soon. I have heard about him.” Thomas said, hoping to get more information about the mysterious man nobody knew anything about.
"Of course. I will inform him. It was an honour to meet you, but I must be on my way now. Please greet your brothers on my behalf.” she breathed.
Y/N put the emptied glass on the side and rose, but before her hands could clasp the coat, Y/N looked up, puzzled. A faint smile graced her lips painted in a reddish hue, but she did not lower her gaze, looking straight up into the vastness of the sky, unafraid of the stories she heard about the man who resembled a destructive thunderstorm and showed no mercy.
“May I?” Thomas inquired, though it was unnecessary.
Y/N nodded. The warm breeze blew through the bar, carrying her scent, of a warm spring morning, caressing his face and nearly knocking him out, not allowing him to form a thought. His hands disappeared from her body and Y/N thanked the tall man, loud enough to be sure Thomas had heard each of them escaping her throat.
“May I escort you outside? The streets are not safe at nightfall.” Thomas interjected.
A slight smile Thomas couldn’t see spread on her features, looking down and fixing the belt around her waist. Many words and even more comments rested on the tip of her tongue but none of them dared to escape, to cross the borders.
“Goodbye Mister Shelby, I will talk in the nicest tones about you and just so you know, my boss has been here for a long time and was listening to our conversation,” Y/N said.
His brows almost touched, not understanding anything the woman was saying. His gaze slid around the room and wandered from man to man but he could see no one among the many guests who would fit the description of a man in his line of work.
“You don’t understand Mister Shelby?”, “My boss will bring you the documents and the goods tomorrow as I promised.” she joked, and could no longer suppress a smile.
Slowly Y/N turned around, not fearing his gaze
“I don’t understand Y/N?”, “How can you be so sure a man has to be the boss of the company? I am pleased to have made your acquaintance, Thomas, and I hope our collaboration will bear fruits. I’m looking forward to tomorrow and I’ll bring some pastries for breakfast.” Y/N said.
A sickly pallor spread across his features, taking over every corner of his skin, unable to believe the words the young woman had spoken, looking like the personified innocence, a delicate flower.
“Then I suppose I won’t have to accompany you home,”, “Thank you very much, Thomas, for your offer, but that won’t be necessary. I was a nurse at war. I learned a lot and the gun I was given I still carry at my side.” she breathed so softly that only Thomas could hear the words.
The gazes met.
“And I apologise. I didn’t mean to sell you a dog, but I enjoyed letting you believe that I’m just the secretary. And to be accurate, I am the secretary, but I am also the owner of the company. I hope you’ll not take it badly.” Y/N whispered.
Thomas held her hand. No hatred prevailed in his expression, letting her know no bitterness inhabited his heart. The young people with ageless features could not take their eyes off of each other and lost themselves in the deepest abysses as the delicate tones of guitars and trumpets played lovely tones.
Hello, dear readers, I’m very sorry I haven’t been online much over the last two days, but I’ve been spending more time outdoors and seeking inspiration in the wilderness. When I switched on the computer today, I was hit by a wave of your beautiful comments. Even though the last part of my story Lost and Untold was slightly different, contained many historical aspects and had much less to do with romance, I am very glad how much you enjoyed reading it. I am very excited about it and more parts will follow shortly. Feel hugged.
Lovely spring reigned over the countryside and the colourful wind carried glorious messages. Lush green trees mingled with the bright tones of the slowly awakening flowering meadows. The vehicle, in the tones of the deep night, drove down the deserted road flanked by bushes and trees with twisted branches. The rays of the sun faded behind the formless clouds wandering over the towns of England.
A smile graced Y/N´s lips, listening to the joyous voices making plans, laughing low and secretly gnawing on the rest of the nuts in the brownish bag of paper. The young mother could not understand any of the spoken words, but it delighted her to hear the happiness in the children’s voices.
Behind the hill rose a building of stone. Again and again, Y/N´s eyes slid to the man by her side, driving towards the estate resembling from afar a castle of high lords. The trees faded away, no longer bordering the road. For a moment, Y/N was sure Thomas was lost and was about to steer the vehicle in the other direction, but then he halted and she realised they had arrived. Thomas was oblivious to the glances resting on him as the children in the back of the vehicle talking in hush tones, wanting to make it almost impossible for Thomas and Y/N to know what they were up to, trying to remain in secret.
“We can play in the garden. The sun is shining and I’m sure it’s not about to rain again.” Charlie spoke happily and Claire laughed and nodded in approval.
Y/N turned around in her seat and looked at the grinning children, pretending nothing had happened, and spoke. A question wanted to escape Y/N, wanted to tell er daughter to behave well and thank Mister Shelby for driving them, but suddenly, coldness prevailed and let her shiver. Questioning, Y/N turned around and the words she wanted to say to her daughter were forgotten. Elegantly, the tall Shelby stood at her side and offered her his hand. Y/N glanced from the eyes gleaming like stars, looking at her with an unfamiliar familiarity and was sure a man had never done this, not even her daughter’s father.
“May I?” pronounced Thomas and gratefully Y/N accepted his hand.
Thomas closed the door of the vehicle. His masculine scent embraced the young woman like a veil, reminding her of smoke, of a chilly winter afternoon when, beyond the window, snow was dancing in the wind and the scent of burning wood dominated the house. Low words escaped as Thomas guided Y/N towards the mansion bordered by a high fence. The children laughed and ran off, left the parents behind who strolled slowly towards the front door of the mansion, which seemed to have at least one hundred room, looked majestic, almost regal.
Her eyes kept looking in his direction, surveying his profile, could no longer forbid her eyes to rest on her hands, watching his eyes as they seemed to change colour as the vibrant light of the lowering sun hit them, resembling the sky and the depths of the seas. Smiling Y/N and Thomas watched the laughing children running wild, not walking towards the house, running towards the trees in the garden. The sun was high and the clouds were wandering, across the land, were white as newly fallen snow.
His keen eyes travelled no longer across the land but down her arm and nearly exhaled in relief as he noticed no ring nor an imprint gracing her fingers, but he was not entirely sure if a man was at her side. A desire he had not felt for years he sensed in the depths of his heart, wishing to get to know the young mother beside him, learn more about her life, her past, and her aspirations.
“I would let them play outside. You don’t have to worry, nothing can happen to them and through the window, in the living room we can see Claire and Charlie play in the garden,” said Thomas.
The words calmed Y/N down, who almost anxiously looked at her daughter who was following Charlie with quickening steps, letting her know she needn’t to be afraid of her safety. Thomas stopped in front of the door, his free hand reached for the door handle, but before his fingers were able to grasp the cold material, the door opened.
Confusion spread through the pairs of eyes. A swear was about to slip from the man in the dark blue suit. His eyes gleamed in delight. The gentleman had expected many things, knew Thomas had planned to arrive two hours ago, had already imagined the worst of scenarios, but then he saw the reason why Thomas had arrived later than agreed and he knew the question of whether Thomas would go to the bar with him and John was not necessary.
“Good afternoon,” Arthur pronounced.
With a long stride, he brought the door behind him and held out his hand to greet the young woman.
“It’s good to see you again, Miss Smith,” Arthur said, clasping the woman’s free hand but not bringing it to his lips, catching the expression in his brother’s eyes.
“And I’m glad to see you like the suit. I remember the pattern and the material.”, “You know each other?” Thomas inquired.
She would spot the dark blue, nearly black suit with the many stripes among many, immediately recognising her work, seeing the neat and straight seams and the extra pockets.
“Of course, Y/N is our seamstress, but you can’t know that because you never pick up your suits or have your measurements taken. John had to bring Y/N one of your old suits to have some measures.” joked Arthur, amused, as he let go of her hand. “But what are you doing here?” he added.
“Charlie and Claire wanted to spend the afternoon together, and I invited Y/N for a cup of tea. Tell John to take the Miss’s vehicle to her house. It is at the fair.”, “Then I won’t bother you anymore and I’ll deal with it personally, my dear. May I ask for the keys?” Arthur asked.
He gave Y/N a slight smile and looked down at the young woman, whose hand disappeared into the depths of her handbag. Thanking, Arthur accepted the key and let it disappear into the extra pocket of his coat.
“The dark blue one that is always in front of the tailor shop.”, “Exactly Arthur, don’t be surprised. The engine takes a while to start. Be warned and if it doesn’t start, then just leave it there. I will contact a mechanic and hopefully, he will be able to fix it.” hushed Y/N and Arthur nodded.
His eyes spoke volumes and Thomas knew exactly what Arthur was thinking, but Thomas said nothing, turned to the woman at his side and led her into the mansion. Arthur still faced the two young people, shook his head and flashed a smile as he walked away, heading for the car parked next to his brothers to pick up John from the bar as discussed.
He had to spread the golden message among the family members, unable to remember the last time Thomas had spoken to a woman, let alone permitted one to enter the mansion.
“I believe in the near future I will try on my suits personally.”, “That would be very kind Thomas, but you needn’t to worry, I already know your measurements, I have them written down in a book and whenever I wasn’t sure, Arthur and I think once John brought me your suit to my tailor shop. But if you would arrive, it would save me a lot of work,” Y/N replied.
Thomas let the door fall shut and faced the young mother with the ageless face again.
“I hope you don’t have any plans for tomorrow, I think I’ve put on weight and I need a new suit.” replied Thomas.
Y/N thought he was selling her a dog but she realised he was telling the truth.
“Then I look forward to your visit. I will get to work today and prepare some of the fabrics from the colour palette you prefer.” Y/N answered.
Wordlessly, Thomas led the guest down the hall. Her eyes widened with every step. Her home was nothing compared to the mansion. Y/N knew the table graced by one candles and flowers in a high vase was only for plates filled with food, not like hers in the living room turned into a dressmaker’s table in the late hours of the evening to be able to spend more time with Claire. Y/N lowered her eyes, not wanting to seem rude, to give him the appearance she was staring, not being able to take her eyes off the enormous staircase bigger than her living room and kitchen.
"Sit down on the sofa, nothing can happen to the children,” said Thomas in a calming tone.
His hand rested on her back, led her through the living room and came to a halt at the sofa, but before she could sit down, the tall man motioned Y/N to turn around to help her to take off the long coat resting on her shoulders. Y/N understood what Thomas was asking of her, undid the belt hugging her waist, opened the three closed buttons and felt the heavy material of the coat disappear from her shoulders. Thanking Thomas, the young woman settled down on the sofa in the seat the man had offered her and glanced in his direction out of the corner of her eye as he moved away and hung her long coat on a hook.
Thomas didn’t understand what he was doing, hadn’t even thought about the females in the last few years, and was completely focused after the heartbreak on working or spending his free time with his son whom he loved from the deepest depths of his heart. He was not a man of big words, but for the first time in many years, he longed for a conversation with a human being, with a woman, didn’t want to hear any more about thefts, about weapons and violence, about people who dared to stand in his way, but a normal conversation.
“What can I offer you? A tea or a coffee?” Thomas asked.
A slight smile came over Y/N and confusion spread in the bright eyes.
“Did I say something funny?”, “No Thomas but I already drink enough coffee, if I may ask a cup of tea.” the young woman replied and the man whose coat was hanging next to her nodded.
Thomas placed the kettle filled with fresh herbs on the table followed by two white porcelain cups adorned with dark green vines framing the blossoming flowers like a painting. Carefully he filled the cups with the dark coloured steaming liquid and placed one in front of Y/N who thanked the elegant man. Thomas unbuttoned the buttons of his suit jacket and settled down on the sofa as Y/N positioned herself so gazes could meet and words could fall. His keen eyes wandered towards Y/N, remembered she was a seamstress, but the dress she wore did not resemble the rich garments her daughter wore. The dress in dark hues looked more like an older garment. The colours were washed out, but no holes adorned the dark blue material. His gaze slid further and came to a halt at her hands resting on her knees.
“What time do you have to be home? I don’t want to inconvenience you.” Thomas opined.
Confused, Y/N shook her head, not understanding what Thomas meant, what the meaning of his words was, but suddenly she understood.
“Mister Shelby, I am not expected by anyone. If I arrive at midnight, nobody will be enraged.” Y/N answered.
Thomas regretted the words he had chosen, but he could not take them back, seeing sadness painting her face, the delicate features kissed by the orange light streaming through the windows flanked by dark curtains.
“The war?” continued Thomas.
“I wish it had been war.”, “You don’t have to continue. I understand if you don’t want to talk about it.” Thomas answered.
“No, it’s not a sad story. I promise it will not make you cry nor your heart ache in pain. Claire’s father left before she was born in July. I can only guess why he left. The day I told him I was expecting our child, his parents demanded that he has to take me as his wife as soon as possible. The same day, he packed his seven things and at midnight, he left and never returned. He certainly got scared, but you don’t have to mourn me. I’m glad he’s not a part of our lives. When I think back, I know I wouldn’t want a man like him in my life, and certainly not as Claire’s fatherly role model.” Y/N explained.
No tears clouded her vision. She had already told the story countless times, but Y/N was not ashamed of what had happened to her. No lump was forming in her throat, not fearing the story, not ashamed of not having a man by her side like other women around her age. A pleasant warmth spread. Shily, she looked up, feeling his hand rest on hers. His fingers danced gently over her the back of her hand, letting her know she didn’t have to continue.
“I’m sorry to hear that, but Claire looks like a happy child. I hope your parents are supporting you and Claire.” Thomas said.
Winter was in her eyes and suddenly sorrow flooded her body. Y/N bit down on her bottom lip and exhaled loudly, trying to gather courage and strength.
“My father was killed in war as my mother. She was a nurse in France and my father was a general. They were both killed by a bomb in Somme, France. I still have his dog tag and I have given my mother’s bracelet to Claire. I lived alone in London, I grew up there, but that’s not a place I wanted Claire to grow up and I moved here when Claire was two years old.” Y/N added with pride, not having mourned the loss of her parents for many months.
“I’m sorry to hear that.” Thomas uttered.
Y/N believed him, felt the words weren’t wicked, and turned like the branches of a tree struck by lightning. Suddenly great sorrow painted his eyes and the ageless features seemed to age and the wrinkles to deepen.
“I suppose you served, too.” Y/N breathed.
“What makes you think that?” he asked.
His eyes weren’t filled with tears yet Y/N saw the untold stories, the sorrow and pain, the loss, the wicked memories pursued with evil.
“I can see it in your eyes, Mister Shelby.” Y/N said, deep in thoughts.
She pressed her lips to a fine line and remembered the greyed memories of forgotten times.
“I was stationed as a nurse in London and after the war at the docks in the east. I took care of the injured soldiers, women, and even children. It was not a pretty sight, but the men and boys all had the same blank expression, the same fear and rage, just like you now at this very moment.” Y/N reasoned.
A wry smile broadened on his face. Thomas wordlessly nodded.
“And then you became a dressmaker, understandably. I was stationed in France with Arthur.” Tomas explained.
He could no longer maintain the emotionless mask. Small fragments cracked and fell to the ground, no longer able to shield his face, to disguise the truth. His eyes reflected the deep grief blazing in his core, along with anguish and fear.
“The world is an awfully small place,” Y/N whispered.
“And now we sit here and maybe I saw your father.” said Thomas, wettened his lips with the dark liquid.
“He was a general. My father didn’t want to see young men die in war; knew they would suffer greatly. His good friend told me about his last moments. A bomb went off in the camp. He tried to save his soldiers. It was night, and the enemy attacked.” a soundless laugh escaped her lips.
Y/N shook her head and took a sip.
“He got almost all of them out of the shaft, but he died. Mustard gas filled the air and an undetonated bomb went off. His death was quick and hopefully painless.”, “In Somme?”
“Exactly. The worst display of modern warfare. My father wrote me two letters. I still have them till this very day. It must have been awful. He was a good man,” Y/N answered.
She had never told anyone about her father before, but it felt right.
“He was a man skilled with words, a great general, yet he hated it. My father wanted to provide a good life for me and my mother. He thought my mother wouldn’t follow him to France, but she followed him and died the same night. With the money, I could afford to survive the war, and when they died, I decided to take all my savings and buy a small house here in this small town.” Y/N continued.
The wearer of suits examined the eyes of the young woman sitting one seat away from him and all at once he thought he had certainly seen them before. The weak smile stretched across his lips, remembering nights when bombs didn’t go off and bullets didn’t cause men to fall dead to the ground, nights when cards were played and old men told tales.
"I was in Somme. Your father’s name was Richmond? General Richmond Smith.“ Thomas said confident. “You have your fathers’ eyes.” he added quick.
Again Y/N nodded.
“Y/N Smith. I should have introduced myself by my full name, but Smith is a common name,” Y/N introduced herself properly.
“Then I owe a lot to your father.”, “He did what was right. He protected his men, his soldiers. Could you tell me something about him? My memories of him are faint. He was hardly at home, but when he was, we played together in the garden or cards.” Y/N breathed, sinking for a brief moment into the pit of memories daring to fade away, to disappear, slowly blurring with gloom.
“I met him twice in my life. He greeted me at the docks in France, told us stories as we sat in the train, and then again when he chased me out of a collapsing shaft, but that very day he didn’t die.” Thomas said, saddened he wasn’t able to tell her more about her father.
Smiling faintly, Y/N took the cup and brought it to her lips, sipping the warm liquid and leaning against the soft material of the leather sofa.
“And the lady of the house?”, “There is none.” Thomas said without hesitation.
Y/N nodded, hearing his voice instantly seeming to deepen, resembling a thunderous storm, roaring oceans and leaping rivers and she knew he didn’t want to talk about the woman who once lived with him under the roof of the mansion and was probably the mother of Charlie who played with Claire in the garden.
“No woman is in my life. I decided to take focus on Charlie and my work.” Thomas explained.
“We have something in common, and I can’t imagine how hard it must be for a man to raise a child on his own. A woman has to live with people looking at her as a woman of the night if she is unmarried and has a child. In the times after the war people assumed her father died but I clarified he ran away.”, “I would never dare to call you a woman of the night Y/N and it is a shame that people call you one.” added Thomas, interrupted her, witnessed the sadness reigning in her eyes focused on the dark liquid.
Glances met. Y/N stopped focusing on her reflection on the surface of the shallow waters. She lost herself in his loving gaze. Mist no longer reigned and the last rays of the sun broke through the large windows, kissed his face and his eyes in bright tones.
Eyes full of ecstasy and fire met. Curses mingled with soft words, begging for more. His hands roamed her body, travelled down her spine and settled on her hips, on her skin hidden behind a thin layer of the dress in lush tones.
His lips muffled her voice. The door felt shut, but no complaints escaped nor doors opened; the house was empty and deserted. The wood sang out loud. Y/N tilted her head to one side, allowed her husband to spread kisses on her soft flesh. She longed for his touches. A soft moan escaped her throat, longing for more. His roughened fingers wandered under the material of the long dress, had unbuttoned the top three buttons. Soft prayers escaped Y/N. Slowly, she turned to liquid gold under his tender touch. His right hand cupped her butt, kneaded her ass, felt the flesh between his fingers. Y/N’s fingers curled into his back, spread darkening marks. Her hands moved up, travelled up his spine, felt as the blood rushed through his body and curled into his hair as dark as the night, destroying his once neatly laid-back hair. A mischievous grin spread across his lips, hearing how much she liked it, how much she enjoyed his rough touches.
Bodies collided like the raging waves on the seven seas. Y/N fell onto the bed and Thomas towered over her. A smile spread across her lips. The lipstick was smudged. Her fingers clawed into the tie swinging almost above her face and pulled at it, wordlessly demanding of her husband to kiss her after his long absence. Y/N begged for more and wordlessly, Thomas did as Y/N asked. His head moved closer to hers and placed his lips on hers. A moan, growing in volume and muffled by his, was about to come over her as his teeth rammed into her gentle flesh. His hands were framing her head, making it impossible for her not to look at him, to dare her head to turn to one side. Thomas cursed, but Y/N did not understand any of them as he spoke in hushed tones. Y/N could not take her eyes off of Thomas, saw the lust ruling in them, the desire for more, for touches and words of forgiveness.
Her hands clawed harder into the button-down in light tones covering his chest. The first pieces of clothing slid to the floor. His suit jacket lay on the floor right next to the shared bed. Y/N loosened the tie around his neck, destroyed the knot and threw it to the floor. The grin on his lips broadened but Thomas allowed it, looking at his girlfriend’s trembling fingers tampering with the buttons on his shirt, undoing them one by one. The rays of the moon entering the room through the windows kissed his skin.
Thomas didn’t have to ask questions; he saw the answers in her eyes seeming to grow darker with lust. Elegantly, his fingers slid down the frame of her body. Deftly, his fingers played with the light material of the sundress. No words escaped. He untied the bow hugging her waist, and the last pieces of clothing covering her body slid to the floor like a curtain. She tilted her head to the left. Her hair shifted, no longer covering her neck. Plum lips applied wet kisses on her skin, sucked on her delicate flesh and elicited a low moan as his teeth sank into her bare neck.
Lips parted. Her stomach flipped at the words Thomas whispered seductively in her ear, letting her know how much he needs her, how much he is longing for her heart and soul, for her touches. Thomas kissed his wife delicately as his fingers travelled down her body, accidentally touching her exposed nipple. The light was dim, yet Thomas could see his wife clear as the stars, her eyes full of love. He felt the skin of a goose under his touch. Y/N´s chest moved unevenly. A muffled scream escaped her throat as he cupped her left breast and then played with it the nipple between his fingers. His lips no longer touched her neck and wandered down. Thomas smiled, watching her turn to liquid gold under his touch.
His eyes were locked on her face, looking up and down, knowing she would like it. His warm breath collided with her skin. The nipple disappeared between his plump lips. His tongue flicked over it, circled it and grinned. Her eyes widened, but then she squeezed them shut. After a few affectionate caresses, his lips released her nipple. No underwear hid her body. Teasingly, his hands wandered down, applied two kisses on her stomach and wandered further down in narrow paths. The lips no longer touched her skin and Y/N knew that her body would be burnt by the signs of love.
His fingers spread her open, saw what his caress had done to her. Sweet nectar was coating his two fingers. He did not wipe it on the white bedclothes and guided his fingers to his lips and tasted her. A dark laugh escaped the man, and he felt the desire growing in his body. Hunger was in his eyes, but food could not satisfy the hunger growing in his chest. Her breath collided with the centre of her body.
Y/N’s eyes fluttered open, she wanted to touch him, wanted him to feel the same, but Thomas just waved it off, wanted this night to be hers alone. Her heartbeat quickened, seeing what he was about to do, but before she could stop Thomas, his tongue wiped through her swollen lips. He kept licking, exploring her body as he had never done before. One finger vanished in her depths and quickly another one followed. His muscles flexed and suddenly she felt a great emptiness rising between her legs and Thomas felt it, felt her muscles clenching his fingers. He pumped in and out.
An unwelcoming emptiness spread. Y/N glanced up, wanting to start a sentence, wanting to persuade her husband to continue with what he had begun, but before the first complaint could come over her, their eyes met. Thomas towered over her body, he wanted to look at her. One hand vanished in the depths of her hair, forced her to look up, forbid her to dare to look away. Slowly, nearly gently, his erected manhood vanished between her wet folds. Her eyes rolled back. His eyes bored into her flesh while his fingers made it impossible for Y/N to move. Groaning, he thrust in and out.
The room filled with delicate sounds, of skin colliding with skin, of soft begging. Thomas grunted animalistically between sloppy kisses on her bare flesh. Suddenly, he thrust harder. His fingers moved down and began to rub delicate and harsher circles on her swollen clit. Thomas hit the right places and let her scream in delight, begging for more.
Her fingers vanished into the depths of her hair. The screams turned louder as his thrusts grew sloppier. His lips muffled the praying. Her womanhood clenched around his manhood, making it almost difficult to keep moving. A shiver danced down her spine. The orgasm washed over the married couple. Sweat wandered down the body and the cries grew silent. Suddenly silence reigned. Eyes met again, lust remained in his gaze and Y/n realised at once the night was not over yet.
Hi my dear readers, I would like to thank you sincerely for the kind responses to my stories over the past couple of weeks.✨ Words cannot describe how overjoyed I am. Our enchanting family of lovers of different fandoms is growing and thriving like a meadow in early spring. I never expected so many dear people to enjoy my stories, to be excited and cry over them, and even request a fixed upload scheme.✨ I thank you all from the bottom of my heart and I hope you will enjoy my stories.
The stiff wind entered the mansion. Curtains swayed back and forth. Delicately, the fire crackled and was nearly extinguished by the uninvited guest. The heavy burden fell from his shoulders as the dark coat in the tones of the deepest of the nights fell onto the edge of the sofa.
No toys rested scattered on the wooden floor and the lonely colouring pencil in a light shade of red on the table reminded of Charlie, who had drawn on paper’s houses and forests. Thomas stretched. His muscles ached painfully. Keen eyes, in bright shades, roamed the living room, travelled from east to west and from north and south. His fingers loosened the dark tie around his neck and stepped deeper into the living room. Confused, Thomas looked around, hoping to find his wife seated at the dinner table or Charlie. His eyes were glued to the watch attached to the golden chain to the waistcoat in the same shade as the rest of the suit. The sternness vanished from his features and the hatred no longer claimed his heart.
The marks of the long day spread across his face. He no longer hid them behind a mask of coldness and false emotions. Faint footsteps echoed across the mansion. Thomas smiled. In the early morning hours, he didn’t want to leave the bed, desired to stay with his wife, knew how much he had already missed, wasn’t there as Charlie took his first steps, when the first words crossed his lips let alone there when he celebrated his first birthday. Thomas didn’t want to miss a single special moment, yet he departed every morning in the early hours when the red rim of the sun was rising.
Spreading his arms, he took three long strides and nearly jumped. The woman wrapped in the long nightgown snuggled against his firm body, feeling his hands resting on her back. His muscles were no longer tense. Thomas smelled of a frosty night, sadness and the smell of gunpowder. To begin with, Y/N didn’t appreciate the pungent smell of gunpowder, even cigarette smoke hadn’t appealed to her, but the moment she fell in love with the man with the eyes of raging oceans she no longer associated the smell with the dangers of the night but with the tall man she had given her heart to.
His heart collided with his chest and for a brief moment, Y/N had the feeling it was about to jump through his skin and be in her palms. Y/N´s hands disappeared under the suit jacket and applied gentle touches, soothing and filled with love on his back. He relaxed and exhaled in relief. Humming words came over his lips all at once. Y/N tried to understand them but she couldn’t make out any of those he uttered. Y/N lifted her head, no longer looking down at the ruffles stretching across the dress in the light tones in a definite pattern.
“How was your day?” Thomas wanted to know.
Silently, he repeated the words he had spoken unintelligibly before. Thomas closed his eyes, having longed to find himself in his wife’s arms the moment he had closed the door of the mansion behind him.
“Nothing out of the ordinary. I drove Charlie to kindergarten and Rosie drank more than usual today, but I’m sure you don’t care much, it is not a very interesting nor amusing topic.” she breathed, knowing the little interest men had in the subjects of diapers and milk.
Y/N knew exactly how much her husband loved the children, and knew perfectly well he would die for them, yet she was equally aware of how much these topics, which more women than men were interested in, were of little interest to him either. Thomas opened his eyes and gazed down at the woman wrapped in his arms, sucking in her scent and smelling the unmistakable smell of the cream she applied to the baby’s dry skin.
“Tell me more.” Thomas breathed exhaustedly.
A smile spread on her lips. Y/N knew he was telling the truth, that he didn’t say those words to show he cared, cared from the deepest depths of his heart for the children.
“Charlie was looking forward to see you, but he’s already asleep. I checked on him a few minutes ago and wanted to make sure he was alright. Where are the others, anyway? I was sure Arthur would come with you.”, “He’s still in the bar, got held up.” Thomas began, letting his head rest on hers.
Breathing deeply, Thomas sucked in her scent, feeling his tense muscles relax, knowing he was home, knowing nothing more could happen, that no more eyes could lie on him wishing death and destruction.
“Rosie was crying a lot today and I assume her first teeth is growing. She fussed like Charlie did when he was her age. Charlie helped me out, even cooked me a tea and reheated my dinner. It was very lovely.” Y/N breathed.
A slight smile spread across her lips, recalling her son’s caring eyes as they lay on her bringing her a cup of tea after he heard silent complaints that Rosie made it difficult for her to take a sip of water.
“I think you should lie down Thommy. It’s getting late. I’m going to check on the kids and you can prepare for the night.” Y/N whispered after a moment of silence.
The young mother pronounced the words as quietly as possible, knowing if Charlie heard the voices, he would immediately jump out of bed to talk to his father after a long time apart from the short conversations in the early hours of the day.
“I’ll come with you.”, “Thomas, you should lie down. You can have a shower tomorrow, but you should go to bed. It’s almost past midnight and you need sleep. I can see how exhausted you are, dearest. Maybe you can fool everybody else but not me. I am your girlfriend since I am fifteen and when I turned twenty you asked for my hand in marriage.” whispered Y/N.
“And now you are my wife and the mother of our lovely children. And I am not tired.”, “Thomas, I am your wife. I can read you like an open book and I can see you are tired and exhausted. You should rest and maybe even if you don’t want to hear it, take a day off, a weekend or maybe even an entire week. It would do you good.” breathed Y/N.
There was silence. Gazes met. Thomas knew what she wanted to say.
“It would do us good. I miss you and I don’t need to talk about how Charlie needs you and spends every evening looking out the window, hoping he’ll see you standing outside the house or see your car. He talks about you from morning to evening. Rosie is still young, but I know she misses you too,” Y/N added after a few moments.
Y/N didn’t want to make her husband to feel bad, but she needed to let him know the children needed him as much as she needed him. Thomas tensed, looked into nothingness, and then took a step back. Her fingers slipped away, no longer touching his body, no longer hidden under the suit jacket. Lifeless, her arms hung at her side, seeing the anger and hatred in her husband’s gaze but knowing the hatred was not directed at her or anyone else.
“Come on let’s go. I will think about it,” he said.
“Arthur will surely help you if you want to decide to stay here for one day, take a day off but you don’t have to if you don’t want, but please try to come home earlier, at least once. Charlie would be delighted.” Y/N whispered loud enough to know he had heard her clearly.
A cold shiver danced down her spine. Y/N nodded, gave him a barely noticeable smile and followed him up the stairs. He was faster than she was, leading the way, not wanting to hear the words filled with truth, but she couldn’t hate him. Y/N exhaled, trying to understand her husband, understanding him, but still arguing he could leave more work to his brothers to allow him to spend more time with his children.
“I’m going to Charlie’s,” Thomas announced and went ahead, leaving his wife behind and disappearing into his son’s room.
Y/N pressed her lips together, but she did not regret the words she had chosen, knowing they would hurt him, but they were the truth, the truth Thomas needed to hear. Y/N saw the light in his eyes fading away, saw his skin take on an unhealthy tone and recognised the dark circles seeming to grow darker and larger with each sleepless night.
A soft voice broke the silence. Y/N exhaled noisily and she didn’t have to check her watch to know that it must have been an hour since Rosie had drunk, was certainly hungry. Quickly Y/N turned down the long corridor. The light wandered. Y/N walked closer to the cot. Soft words came over her, trying to calm the crying girl. Tears streamed down her cheeks. Y/N lifted the crying girl to her chest but nothing helped. Her heart broke into a thousand pieces, hating to see her child like it.
She did not hear the footsteps. Light flooded into the room. Her brows almost touched. Thomas stepped into the room and Y/N tried to remember the last time her husband had entered the room coated in light painting and pictures with horses.
“Has something happened? You should go to sleep, Thommy. I will take care of Rosie,” asked Y/N, looking down almost helplessly at Rosie in her arms, not understanding why she was crying.
“Take Rosie to the bedroom,” Thomas instructed in a monotone tone.
A question wanted to cross her lips but then Y/N nodded, not wanting to start a discussion with him.
“I’ll be right there,” Thomas added, not looking down at his wife who was trying to calm the crying Rosie down.
The eyes, veiled by tears, widened. They no longer fell and the shrill sounds no longer echoed, recognising her father standing in the doorway dressed in a dark suit and making his way out of the little girl’s lovingly furnished room.
“I always knew she loved you more than me.” laughed Y/N. “You will probably take my place, and I will work with your brothers.” joked Y/N, eliciting a soundless laugh from Thomas.
Wordlessly, Thomas disappeared from the tranquil room, turned, and left them alone. Y/N watched him for a moment, but then she turned towards the door and wanted to look out of the window through which one could see the garden, but the only thing Y/N saw were the curtains. Footsteps echoed through the house, but Y/N paid no attention to the sounds, trying to get the girl in her arms to close her eyes again, but she did not appear to fall asleep in the next few minutes. The footsteps stopped, and the floorboards creaked. Y/N didn’t have to turn around, sensing his presence, hearing him approaching them in the middle of the richly furnished room.
“Come, my love, we should go to sleep.” Thomas breathed into her ear.
Y/N looked up questioningly.
“Come. Take Rosie with you. You need to sleep too.” Thomas added.
He rested his hands on her shoulders. Smiling, he looked over her right shoulder. A toothless grin spread across the full lips. The girl looked up, stretched her arms in the air and reached for her father, who greeted her with loving words. Slowly he forced his wife to turn around with the infant in her arms, led her out of the room he had built, turned and led Y/N into the bedroom.
The light illuminating the corridor made it clear that Thomas had already been in the bedroom. Y/N exhaled and realised Rosie was falling asleep. Abruptly, Y/N came to a halt. Charlie sat in the middle of the enormous bed, noticing that his parents and younger sister had also entered the room. The grin on his lips widened. His pair of shoes rested at the end of the bed.
“Charlie, what are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be asleep? Do you need anything? Do your legs hurt again?” pecked Y/N.
Brows almost touched and took a step towards the bed, wanting to know if everything was alright if the young boy needed something if he had a terrible nightmare or if he was thirsty.
“Dad said I could come to you. He said we’d all be together today. That we will sleep together in one bed.” Charlie mumbled.
Y/N said nothing. Confused, she tried to understand what had happened and knew Charlie would never lie to her.
“Come to me. I am not tired. Daddy told me to come. I’ve been waiting for you. We’re having a sleepover party. Dad said he’s going to read us a story I’ve never heard before.” Charlie said happily.
With his hands, the boy in the middle of the bed indicated they should finally come, tapping the empty seats at his side, impatient, wanting to finally close his eyes and listen to his father voice telling the story he had promised. Wordlessly, Thomas nodded, turned, and let the door fall into the lock, trying to be as quiet as possible, watching his daughter’s eyes fall shut and her mouth open.
“May I?” breathed Thomas.
Carefully, he took his daughter, let the words come over him and once again his eyes fell shut. Next to his wife, Thomas came to a halt and stretched out his arms, pressing his daughter against his chest, feeling the little hands clawing into his vest and not wanting to let go of him. A soft laugh came from his lips and Thomas realised he had everything he ever wanted.
Summary: Thomas believes his sister is a blessed woman, never faced war nor the destruction of France, but one day they find out what their sister was up to in 1916.
The words were driving her crazy and burned deep into her skin. Tears veiled her vision, but didn’t slide down her cheeks. Y/N was strong, stronger than the brothers thought, perhaps even stronger than the men together who had found a place around the table on the sofa of dark leather.
Words echoed over and over and the secret almost escaped her lips, but Y/N remained strong, not wanting to be pitied or respected for what she had done as dark messages spread over all lands and drowned golden years. The name of the country which had scarred the hearts echoed hundreds of times, rippling old wounds open and making hatred and tears flow in dark chambers.
No more blood dripped and stained the fields. Nevertheless, when silence reigned, Y/N thought she could hear the cries of the wounded men carried into the tent on makeshift stretchers. The long skirt and the piece of clothing with long sleeves and a high collar made it impossible to discover the traces of France on her body. Deep scars reminded her she was also there, where nobody, woman nor man, should ever be. The deep wounds had long since healed. The blemishes and blueish marks had disappeared many months ago, but her skin ached now and then, and fear clouded her mind when she recalled the gas bomb going off a few steps away from the camp where she was stationed.
Y/N folded her arms in front of her chest and leaned against the frame of the wooden door. Half-heartedly she was listening to her brothers reminisce about the greyed memories of fun days at the front, playing cards in the dark trenches, drinking rum, but with each passing hour, the stories grew darker and darker until they resembled shadows forming into monstrous crashing waves. Tragic stories never crossed Y/N´s lips, not wanting her brothers to hate her for what she had done, had left the land to serve, and wrapped herself in a cloak of silence.
Y/N stared into the distance. Tears no longer obscured her vision, saw sharply and clearly and it seemed as if she was emotionless, not showing compassion, but after watching hundreds of men die, holding the cold hands adorned with dirt and grime, Y/N could no longer grieve nor cry. Winter ruled in her eyes. She remembered the words of men begging for a gentle touch as the spark of life faded away and after seeing children die in her arms, calling for their mother, Y/N grew stone cold. Her heart turned into a block of ice and not even the death of a beloved could make her cry.
Glasses collided with the table again, but Y/N no longer recoiled.
“Won’t you sit at our table, sister?” Arthur joked in a joyful tone.
The tie no longer hung neatly on the white button and traces of wine had eaten into the material.
“No, thank you.”, “She doesn’t belong at our table. Those are stories a woman like her wouldn’t bear.” laughed Thomas harshly.
A dark veil settled on Y/N. She pressed her lips together, forbidding the words to pass and shrugged her shoulders dismissively. The words could no longer hurt her, at least that’s what she thought, but suddenly Y/N felt a slight burning sensation spreading through her heart as she realised how low her brother taught about her.
“Am I not right? The trench I was trapped almost killed me.” Thomas said. “And I will not speak of the land mines. I smell the stench of explosives in my worst dreams.” the dark-haired man in the suit continued.
John, Thomas and the others’ eyes wandered from Arthur to Y/N. A faint smile spread on her lips, had heard those words too often, was able to recite them.
“A woman is not able to face war and danger. While our lovely Y/N, sat here at home on her backside, warming herself by the fire, I risked my life for her safety. That’s why she’s a mere seamstress. The only danger you will face is that you might accidentally hurt yourself with the needle.” Thomas raised his voice.
A mischievous grin spread across his lips. Her blood was boiling. The walls crumbled. Anger mingled with sadness. Y/N gulped and stepped forward, pushed herself off the frame of the door and strolled towards the brothers. Y/N clenched her hands into fists, nails dug deep into the soft flesh. She breathed in and out and tried to calm herself down, but the fire rising in her chest couldn’t be extinguished.
“What are you trying to say, Thomas?” Y/N asked.
She took a step towards her brothers, focused her gaze on Thomas and ignored the others sitting at the richly set table.
“Exactly what I said. Women are.”, “Shut your goddamn mouth, Thomas.” Y/N hissed.
She stopped two steps away from the table. She had heard enough, knew perfectly well what he was trying to say, that she was a mere woman, weak and incapable of defending herself and facing the war.
“How can you be sure I was here? Were you here? How can you be so sure?” asked Y/N in a mocking tone.
“It’s all over your face,” replied Thomas dryly, leaning back with his arms folded in front of his chest.
“Then you are a blind man, Thomas. I was in France. I didn’t have a gun in my hand, but I have seen more of the war than you think. Children died in my arms and the men broke down crying. Y/N said.
Eyes widened. Skin paled.
“A bloody bomb went off next to my tent. I would have died that very night. I was in France, in Verdun and Somme in 1916 and later I worked in a hospital in London. Bombs killed more than dozens of my friends. I was on the same train as you, Thomas, when you were taken from France. You were asleep or maybe you have fainted. I stood right by your side and dabbed sweat from your temple and helped you to drink. I had to help you.” Y/N continued.
Colours slipped from the faces. Questioningly, the men in suits looked at the sister, but Y/N did not want to answer any of the questions escaping in low tones. Her heart broke. Tears obscured her vision, but Y/N saw clearly. The heaviness fell off her shoulders.
“I understand you more than you think, Thomas, yet who is the person who drinks to forget? You or me? The war shattered my heart. When you arrived from war, I stayed at your side. I was strong for you. I nursed you, but who was at my side when I needed someone?” Y/N asked.
There was silence. The last of the curtains dropped.
“No one,” Y/N whispered.
“I don’t ask anything of you in return. I don’t need to hear how great I am, but please stop portraying me as a woman who has been hiding. Please understand me, I didn’t tell you all because I knew you would talk me out of it and I knew I had to help the people. I have saved many lives.” Y/N continued.
Her voice broke into hundreds of pieces. She opened her heart, allowing them to hear the story they had never heard before. John’s mouth dropped open, unable to trust the words of his older sister, as did the others seated at the coffee table. The alcohol had faded out of their bodies and mist no longer dulled their minds.
“I’ll be on my way, the hazardous needles and pins await me and Thomas, your suit is finished. I hope you will like it. I’ll bring it in the morning. If you are looking for me, I will be in my room and do the work of a woman. I need to finish the coats. Good night.” Y/N said.
Silently the young woman walked away, ignoring the questions crossing the lips like a hurricane, pretending to be deaf to those spoken like crashing waves.
Let us fall into the fine silver threads of a spider’s web and find ourselves in the depths of the stories we hope will never end✨ I would like to express my deep gratitude to all of you, for the lovely messages and all the feedback. It means so incredibly much to me and when I awoke today and saw we’ ve topped 1k in less than three months, I shed a tear of pure delightFeel hugged and look forward to new stories in which we can forget the greyness of our day-to-day lives for a brief moment❤️
The fields and meadows shone in rich green hues and the thriving flowers danced in the warm yet fresh spring breeze. The rays of the setting sun poured golden into the house and kissed her delicate features, pained in pain, adorned with tears and wrinkles of anger seeming to deepen with each tick of the wooden clock.
She wished to fill a glass with whiskey, the strongest the house offered, and Y/N knew exactly where to find the flask. Unsure whether to scream or to cry in agony, Y/N took a deep breath, trying to calm herself down. Her fingers clenched into fists, nearly collided with the table. The hatred rooting in her heart was unbearable. She wished to unleash the hatred, the pain and sorrow and destroy the dams she had had laboriously built. Doubts clouded her mind. Lost in thoughts, dark and dooming, she gazed out of the window, yet Y/N was aware of her surroundings, heard the chirping birds, saw the branches of the trees in the garden swaying back and forth in the howling wind announcing a storm. Voices echoed. Sailors talked on raging oceans. But Y/N stayed in silence, unable to protect her husband and glad Charlie had gone to bed and couldn’t see the sadness in her eyes.
The unopened letter that had arrived in the late hours of the day rested on the dining table and Y/N, who usually opened her husband’s letters, was fearing to open a letter for the first time in her life after finite years of marriage. The handwriting, the curved script, the letters forming into the name of her husband were too neat to belong to a man.
“Y/N, darling, you needn’t worry. I’m sure he’ll be here shortly. It must be a misunderstanding,” a voice whispered.
Y/N snapped out of her stupor but she could no longer watch the people arguing vociferously together.
“Polly’s right, I know Thomas. He loves you.” added the tall man approaching Polly.
Her mouth gaped open. Exhaling loudly, Y/N turned. Her eyes wandered from Polly to Arthur dressed in a dark suit, had heard every word loud and clearly. Low Y/N laughed and her eyes went on a journey again, and stopped at the stairs. Painfully, her heart ached. The basket was filled with wooden toys and the blue car Charlie had been playing with all afternoon was lying lonely and abandoned on the ground beside it. The desire rose to take off the ring she wore with pride, to pack the suitcase and leave, not interested in the weak excuses and hide so well Thomas would never find them again.
“What kind of misunderstanding, Arthur? What do you think Thomas is going to say? Thomas went to London to see Grace. I know exactly what he’s going to tell me. He will tell me he had an important meeting and the last time he had seen Grace is ages ago.” Y/N said sternly.
Her voice oozed with sadness, broken and destroyed.
“I have to leave; I can’t stay here. I have a friend, she lives out in Scotland, in a small house. Thomas doesn’t know about her so he won’t look for us there,” Y/N breathed.
Confused glances met. Tears streamed in narrow rivers down her cheeks but Y/N didn’t wipe them away, let them run and moved away from the window with slow steps, hoping she would see her husband’s car driving up the road, to intercept him immediately and confront him.
“I know exactly what Thomas is going to say. Grace is his old flame, she was out of his life, she left him when he needed love the most, and Thomas fucking Shelby is running after her like a puppy. He cried. Thomas cried a lot and I stayed by his side. I didn’t want to be his lover; I was his friend and I saw my friend was in need of a friend, of love and understanding.” her voice quivered.
The buttons of his suit jacket were undone. Arthur had been holding back all this time, would be the first to confront his brother, couldn’t understand how Thomas could have dared to take the phone call and answer the letters.
“What are you saying Y/N?”, “That I have to go, Arthur, I can’t take it anymore,” Y/N whispered.
She faced the tall man.
“Please don’t. Don’t say anything. I know they are not just seeing each other. I believed him, I agreed when he told me he would spend some weekends in London because he found new clients, new business partners. He betrayed me, our family.” Y/N added.
Tears streamed down her face.
“He was at her house. My husband, the man I love. The man I would die for. He has a family. He has a wife, he has me, and more importantly, we have children.”, “Why does he think Grace contacted him? Because she wants to talk about the good old golden times? Grace left him and now she smells bloody gold. She left him, she was gone and now they are enjoying their life together. And here I am, stupid cow, doing the housework, looking after our son and waiting for my husband to come home after a long weekend and he’s having fun with his old flame, maybe now his new lover.” Y/N uttered a barely audible whisper, but everyone heard her clearly.
More tears obscured her vision. Angered, Y/N wiped the sweat from her palms, wiped them on the no longer flowing material of her dress and saw the envelope resting on the dining table.
“What else did you see Polly? How did you know something like this is happening in London?” Y/N huffed.
“I think it would be best if you talk to Thomas about it. He’ll be here in a minute.”, “Who said I’d be here? How long Polly?” replied Y/N angrily, unable to understand why Polly was trying to protect her brother.
“It’s probably been two months. He was hugging her and inviting her to a bar. They were drinking and went to a restaurant. This is everything I know.”, “And that’s all I need to hear. Arthur, drive my vehicle to the door, please, I have to leave as soon as possible.” Y/N breathed.
Her voice was breaking, with quickening steps Y/N walked past Arthur and Polly, dodging the hands reaching out for her, seeing the quick movements out of the corner of her eye, deaf to the words trying to force her to stop. Y/N took two steps at a time, tried to take three at a but failed. Unaware of Arthur’s reply, Y/N went up, turned and pushed open the door leading into the bedroom, skilfully ignoring the voices calling her by name and stopping her from making the mistake she was about to make.
The door handle dug deep into the wall, leaving a deep hole telling generations to come of the blinding rage once reigning in the mansion almost always filled with laughter and joyful voices. Y/N yanked open the doors of the wardrobe. Crying she threw the leather suitcase onto the floor. She could not ignore the smell of smoke and burning wood. Her heart ached. Daggers dug deep into her skin, pierced through flesh and destroyed her heart. Pieces of clothing flew through the air, bringing colour to the dreary room.
Reassuringly and lovingly, a hand came to rest on her shoulder and, transfixed, Y/N came to a halt in mid-motion, dropping the blouse with a high collar to the floor, but not hitting the open suitcase. Slowly, Y/N turned around. The young broken woman looked into the distance, saw the sun setting, and wished to be one of the birds spreading wings and flying away but she was a human with legs, could not leave the land behind, had to linger and could not flee from the torment.
“If you have come to stop me then you may as well go, Arthur. I will not stay. I want him to arrive and feel what it’s like to be expected by no one. Maybe he will understand.”, “You’re going to take Charlie with you? You shouldn’t do that!” escaped Arthur.
His right hand rested on her shoulder. He gave her shoulder a gentle squeeze. In soothing gestures, his thumb circled her skin, trying to let Y/N know she should stay, that she was just overreacting but Y/N didn’t care about them.
“I’m his mother.”, “And Thomas is his father,” he interjected.
Y/N laughed. The tears were gone and mist no longer clouded her gaze.
“Thomas should have thought about his family a long time ago. He has to find out what is important to him and what is not. No, he should have done it a long time ago. It can happen that his family leaves and I am convinced if the factory is in flames, gold and money are gone and the only thing left of importance is his heart, Thomas will realise that Grace was all the time chasing the money.” Y/N said, her voice was brimming with hate.
Y/N shook her head and laughed bitterly.
“As you heard yourself, Thomas Shelby prefers to spend his evenings with Grace in a restaurant than with me, his wife and son. The last time we spent a date night together is maybe a year ago. He works from morning to late night. When I go to sleep, I am alone and when I wake up the only thing reminding me of my husband is his pillow and the smell of cigars. I’m not going to sit here and look out of the window and pray that he will arrive soon with a believable explanation.” she continued.
"Do you love him?” Arthur asked.
Panting, Y/N observed the flying dust dancing in the rays of the sun. Tears threatened to obscure her vision. Smiling faintly Y/N placed her hands on her stomach in a protective gesture, unable to continue to fight with words of truth and stayed in silence, feared Charlie would hear the words. Her heart ached, not wanting to tear Charlie away from his familiar surroundings but unable to imagine meeting her husband who had sworn fidelity to her. A faint smile graced her face, realising the words he had once spoken with pride and honour were no longer true.
"I believe this is a question I do not have to answer, Arthur. I’m the one who’s here, the one who looks after Charlie, who takes him to the playground, who looks after the estate and tries to be a support. You cannot imagine how often Thomas sits on this bloody bed, looking into the void and is questioning everything. There may be no wounds on his skin, no blood under his nails, but his heart and poor soul need love. A love I probably cannot give him.” she breathed.
Y/N stepped back.
“When Thomas arrived after months of war and Grace left him, he was a shadow of a man. I don’t want to say that I’m better or special, but I took care of him. He would have never cried in front of you, but he cried a lot. I stayed awake and helped him through the long nights. It wasn’t her and we can both safely say the reason Grace wormed her way back into his life.” Y/N said.
"How can you be sure he’s cheating on you?” he probed.
Arthur took a step forward, wanting to put his hands on her shoulders, but he left it at that.
“Thomas could have told me, informed me, and I would have shown understanding in return. If he would have told me that this woman wants to meet him, I would told him to go. This is what should be done in a relationship. I tell him everything, every detail of the day. I talk about the early mornings with Charlie, how he likes kindergarten, how he enjoys playing with toys. Everything. Arthur, and now please leave me alone. Maybe I’ll come back at the end of the month. I will tell Charlie that we will go on an adventure. I am sure he will be pleased.” Y/N informed her brother-in-law.
The rays of the sun kissed her face. Her nails had turned brittle and her skin was sickly, shallow and lifeless. Y/N threw the last piece of clothing into the suitcase lying two steps away from her on the ground. Passing Arthur, she halted. Love disappeared from her gaze. She covered her lips with her hand, wanting to make what she had seen unseen. The golden ring lay lonely and abandoned on the bedside table. The world turned dark, arms reached out for her and the shadows laughed, rose from the depths of the sea and devoured her.
The day was waning, and the golden hue of the sun kissed the end of the world. Birds chirped, left the kingdom and settled on the lightly dancing branches of the trees, framing the estate like a painting.
In the depths of the eyes, they had long since lost themselves, no longer able to look into the distance and were deaf to the voice of the wind knocking on the windows flanked by dark curtains. The cups had been emptied and crumbs adorned the round plates painted with beautifully curved flower tendrils in bluish tones. With each word, stories of greyed memories, the hearts opened wide. Thomas laughed and Y/N continued the tale. His eyes sparkled in delight and his voice was nearly delicate, longing to hear more, ignoring the sun and the faint stars gracing the sky. The smile seemed to grow larger with each passing moment, a grin, not even dreadful news could make it disappear, was on his features. Delight and happiness painted his eyes in bright hues, lighter than the sun and all the stars of the sky together.
A cold gust accompanied by joyous shouts swept through the estate, filled every room and let the adults seated on the sofa in dark shake the heads. Fear didn’t cloud the mind nor rooted deep in the hearts chanting serenades as Thomas and Y/N looked simultaneously at the grinning children rushing in great haste through doors like a horde of savages. Scolding words didn’t escape the young mother. Joy ruled in her daughter’s gaze, swiftly followed by Charlie into the living room. Breathing heavily, huffing, the children stopped. A bright reddish hue painted the cheeks, and they grinned widely at the parents, looking wondering at the children. Charlie and Claire exchanged quick glances. Soft words echoed; an illegible murmur of faint voices oozing with excitement. The children clasped the hands behind the body and Charlie whispered low words and looked questioningly at Claire, but no answer escaped. Y/N knew the expression of mischief, had seen it countless of times. Y/N gazed from Tommy to the children and sat down on the sofa so she could survey them closely.
“We wanted to ask you something.” Claire broke the silence. “Now it’s your turn, Charlie,” Claire added after a moment.
Nudging Charlie with her elbow, Claire poked him again, but the shy boy didn’t respond. Her eyes spoke volumes, could not understand why Charlie had not yet continued as agreed a few minutes ago in the garden. The dark-haired boy lowered his gaze in shame, pressed his lips to a fine line and again looked up as he realised he had to continue.
“Eh, we were going to ask you if we could play hide and seek or catch together. All of us. You and Y/N/N and Claire and I. It will be more fun.” Charlie shyly proffered.
He was blushing and Y/N´s heart melted like gold.
The desire to follow them was non-existent and hundreds of excuses rested on the tip of the tongue, but none overcame, came to light and stayed well hidden, locked up behind sealed lips. The parents exchanged glances, wanting to continue the conversation they had started, to find out more about each other, but the expression on the children’s faces made it impossible to send them out of the house again, to let them know they had no desire or interest to spend more time together.
“What do you think, Y/N?” Thomas asked.
A soft laugh escaped the young mother, couldn’t remember the last time she had played catch and was shocked, couldn’t believe she had never played it with her daughter and Y/N couldn’t say no.
“Why not? But the sun is about to set and I think we should head home soon, Claire. We don’t want to delay or disturb you and Charlie unnecessarily.” Y/N pronounced.
An indignant sound immediately escaped as Claire heard what her mother had pronounced in an audible tone, but the look in her eyes forbid Claire to say anything, to protest loudly.
“You are not disturbing us Y/N and we have enough unoccupied rooms in the building and I am certain the children would be happy to spend more time together.“ Thomas said.
Slowly Thomas rose as he spoke the words Y/N in the deepest depths of her heart, hoped to hear. The elegant gentlemen held out his right hand and Y/N accepted his invitation and realised, astonished, that his hand was huge compared to hers. Her lips gaped open and Y/N did not notice how she threatened to lose herself in the depths of the sky, in a sea of adoration, but no water filled her lungs. A warm shiver travelled down her spine and banished the cold from her limbs. In a gesture, almost affectionate, Thomas lowered his hand to Y/N’s back, led her away from the sofa they had been sitting on for the last few hours, strolled towards the door where the whispering children stood, grinning and chatting in delight, happy the plan they created in great detail worked perfectly.
Claire smiled, had never witnessed such happiness painting her mother’s eyes in the brightest of colours.
Thomas stepped away from Y/N and immediately she missed his closeness, the warmth his heart was spreading. Again Y/N wanted to find herself in his embrace, sitting on the sofa and listening to stories and tales. Eyes met and Y/N felt her heart collide with her chest, wishing their paths had crossed earlier, maybe ten years ago, seeing the love, the joy in his eyes as Charlie came to tell him something. Y/N knew he had to be a good man, had never seen such love in a man’s eyes. Warmth rose in her cheeks. Thomas took the coat from the hook and walked with long steps towards Y/N, who was looking at the joyful children who disappeared from the house with quick steps and wanted to separate from the adults as quickly as possible to hide from them.
"I hope you don’t mind,” Thomas said.
Y/N looked up questioningly. An unfamiliar scent, yet so familiar, a scent befuddling her senses and making her heart beat faster, enveloped her as she felt a heavy material settle on her shoulders. Y/N smiled and her fingers clawed into the dark material. Her coat was hanging again.
“It rained early this morning and I don’t want your coat to get dirty. I hope you don’t mind. I will give Claire one of Charlie’s shirts and trousers. I am convinced I will find something fitting.”, “Why should I mind Thomas? Thank you, but it’s not necessary. Really.” Y/N breathed, but Thomas shook his head in response.
“May I?” Thomas asked.
Confused, Y/N looked up, unable to take her eyes off the tall man, but then she saw his hand pointing to the long sleeves and the young mother understood and nodded. Thomas took a step towards Y/N. The black suit jacket no longer covered his body. His fingers played with the long sleeves, rolled up the too-long material and her delicate hands, her fingers appeared in the bright golden light.
The black waistcoat covered the white button-down, white as a pearl as clouds, and Y/N recognised her work, saw the extra compartment for small bottles on the waistcoat to which a golden clock was attached.
“Thank you, Thomas but.”, “You don’t have to worry about me darling, I certainly won’t be cold and we should hurry, the children are waiting and we shouldn’t keep them waiting,” Thomas interrupted Y/N, knew exactly what she wanted to pronounce
Warmth rose again in her cheeks and gratefully Y/N accepted the arm Thomas offered her. Wordlessly, Thomas led Y/N out of the house, down the long corridor, and together they strolled towards the light streaming into the house through the open front door of dark wood. Following the path, they heard the chanting of laughter echoing loudly across the land, through gardens and fields.
Suddenly, there was a great silence. Y/N and Thomas exchanged quick glances and mischievously they grinned.
“Oh, where might the children be?” Y/N cried out loud.
The question did not have to escape, saw the children hiding behind the trunk of the enormous tree.
“I wonder, I can’t see them anywhere. Hopefully, they haven’t gone missing but you don’t have to worry Y/N, I’m sure we’ll find them and if not, I’ll contact the police. You don’t have to worry, I won’t sleep a wink this night until we find them,” Thomas agreed in a worried tone.
Grinning, they walked towards the lonely tree many steps away from them, behind which the children thought they were completely hidden.
“I think you must call a doctor; Mister Shelby, I feel my heart about to burst with worry. I think I need to sit down.”, “You worry me, darling, Y/N/N, come sit on the bench. I will bring you a glass of water and a damp cloth for your forehead.” Thomas reassured the young woman at his side.
Grinning, he showed with his eyes that they should surprise the children from both sides to forbid them to run away. Y/N grinned, missing his closeness, longing to be near him, and moved towards the tree, whose bark was dark as oak. A shriek escaped the children. They jumped, no longer giggling softly, and ran away in great haste.
“It’s your turn mum.”, “Oh no! I’ll catch you,” Y/N said in shock.
Y/N did not run quickly after the two children and Thomas ran alongside them, was slow, and saw the joy in the children’s eyes as they ran away from Y/N in his direction. The curls danced in the wind. Y/N rushed up slowly, felt the heels of her shoes sink into the soil, reached out with her arms and caused the children to burst out laughing as they escaped her reach. He got lost in her eyes and for a moment Thomas thought that he had known her for a long time, that she was part of the family.
“Tommy?” breathed a voice.
Suddenly he awoke from his stupor and felt hands resting on his body and he looked down, saw the woman who was smaller than him. Thomas stood motionless in the shadow of the tree.
“Your turn,” Y/N added, out of breath.
Thomas caught himself and laughed. Turning around, he made no effort to run slowly, running faster towards the children. They chased each other up and down the garden like wild animals, laughing and shrieking, ignoring the stains freckling the clothes.
The day was waning, and the sun shrouded the world in a reddish glow
“My legs aren’t that long; I can’t run fast.” Y/N breathed out of breath, gasping for air, trying to fill her lungs with air.
Suddenly, her eyes widened, noticing how close they were. His warm breath collided with her face. A shiver danced down her spine. The fingers of his right hand traced the contours of her face, memorising every perfection, seeing the goosebumps, the loving smile on her lips and the love in her eyes seeming endless.
“Are you cold?” Thomas asked.
Worry spread on his features, kissed by the golden sun. Nothing could escape his sharp eyes. Carefully, his hands slid up and down her arms to give her warmth. Y/N shook her head, but Thomas saw the lie in her gaze.
“Charlie, Claire, we’re going back inside. Y/N is cold and you should come too and if you are hungry, then go into the kitchen.” the man added.
Smiling, he ignored the faint words escaping Y/N, trying to stop him from letting the children know she was no longer able to play with them in the garden.
“Okay.” the children said at the same time.
The children continued to play in the garden, hiding behind the bushes and the trunks of the many different trees whose branches danced in the wind.
Down the narrow path, Thomas with Y/N at his side walked towards the house and it seemed as if they were a couple setting out on a journey together. Y/N leaned her head on his shoulder, feeling comfortable at a man’s side after long years of loneliness. His hand rested on her back in a protective gesture and the warmth his body radiated banished the cold feasting on her skin.
