#tommy shelby one shot
Requested: yes
Published: December 30th, 2021
Pairing: Established Tommy Shelby x Reader
Prompt(s):none
Warning(s): none
Word count: 1.5k
Author’s note: I am sorry for this late update. I didn’t think it has actually been that long since I posted this. I was listening to “Let’s Hurt Tonight” by OneRepublic as I was writing this, and perhaps it’s why this took such a dark turn (the song itself matches this fic very well). I tried to keep it as “light” as I could, but given how I wrote the first part, such demands were impossible to fulfill. This talks of post-trauma, because there is no way in hell that Reader is okay after what I put her through in the first chapter. The ending is open for interpretation, for trauma doesn’t go after two days have passed. I’m really proud of my writing in this one, and I hope you will like it.
☇ my navigation //PT.01 //
Sometimes, fate was so cruel it made one cry. You had, honest to God, never believed in fate until the moment the liberty of a choice was taken away from you. There was darkness around your heart and mind, urging you to believe that maybe, just maybe, this torture was fate deemed your eligible punishment.
Barely any fight left in you to disagree with the universe.
There is suffering in silence. Menace in the waters. Fear in every fiber of your body.
And for what?
Your skin was slick with sweat that had formed over days work. There was little air in the derelict stockroom, only the cold that seeped through whatever cracks had been made over the years of neglect. Rarely did you visit such places, where one didn’t have working water.
Your lips turned dry, tongue like sandpaper. Thirst.
You were thirsty.
Yet all it took to send you vomiting was one look at the water. One thought at the liquid.
They hadn’t been gone long; you took note. The sun blinked in between clouds as it did when they were there, and so you still saw it through the gap in the wall. It was little after the first few hours of dawn; one might guess if they had the courage.
A hum of a song left your lips, the only sound in the warehouse. It had once been accompanied by the rustling of cloth against the chair or the scraping of a boot against the floor. By the time your wrists began bleeding and your feet froze solid, you had given up entirely. But you had to drone the melody if only to let yourself know you were still alive.
It was fate’s game to play now.
And you were no longer a player.
Eyelids became too heavy to hold yet again, the itchiness in your eyes a malice on its own. They began closing at a snail’s pace, but you held them in place knowing what kind of irritation the water gathered in the corners of your eyes would give. That dance was so overdone. It was more challenging to dance it the more it happened.
And so, you let them flap shut, your neck a loose rope that could no longer stay upright. Your chin met your chest, and you could hear the shallowness of your breathing accompany the song. The fire turned ember in your lungs but still it hurt to inhale freely more than it hurt to just gather enough air to live.
The waters would be a mercy.
Indeed they would. They would leave no room to fight them, perhaps not in the beginning. But it was a swifter death than the one that was draining you. Slowly, you would close your eyes and fall asleep, and mercy would be as sharp as a knife in ending you in your sleep.
And then just as you were about to succumb to the darkness, fate played wrong.
And Tommy Shelby made the right move.
The game was over.
But you didn’t know.
Bella.
Changretta’s voice was a force in your mind. The warehouse was once again filled with sound. They were so, so loud.
Bella.Bella. Bella.
Your body began shaking on its own accord, and you pulled at the restrains, fearing what’s to come.
Not the water again.
Please not the water.
Your creased riding boots kicked against the ground that you mistook for bottomless water only a second before. But it was solid. The floor was as solid as it could be beneath you.
Grounded. You were on the ground.
But then hands – rough, calloused hands – were grasping your shoulders and you were afraid of being pulled under as you were hours ago. Your face downright denied to look at the shadow casted over your lap even when its hand took your chin in a firm yet gentle grip and pulled your face to its own. The water burned behind your closed eyelids, and you refused to begin the dance despite knowing the relief that awaited once it was done.
Bella.
“Y/N.”
Name. Your name.
“Y/N look at me.”
You pried your eyes slowly, and then waited for relief to wash over you upon seeing his face. “You’re okay,” Tommy said to you, his words a declaration. Final.
You gathered your strength and wept.
***
“Here love,” it was Polly who gave you the tea. The saucer rattled as your shaky hands grasped it, pulling it to your mantle covered lap. Your eyes took in the crammed living room - one you had known for years – with blank disinterest. You hadn’t even casted a glance at the liquid tea, and your food lay cold and forgotten beside you.
Polly scooted closer to you on the chaise. You let her. You let her lean over and kiss your hair, now clean and flowery scented after it took Tommy hours to clean it. No water, you remember screaming at him in the tub. Begging. You remember clawing at his shirt like a relentless animal that had escaped years of imprisonment. He took every blow, every curse with steel in his eyes. There was raging ice in them, wrath that waited to be unleashed. Not upon you. But upon the Italian’s that took you from him.
He left just over a quarter-hour ago, taking the anger with him, leaving his warmth with you. “Take care of her,” you remember him telling Polly, who still shook in the aftermath of seeing you so…
Tortured.
Polly disappeared to give you space. Space and time to adjust.
Warmth washed over the room from where the lit hearth was placed, the crackling and popping of burning wood a sound that complemented it. You hadn’t needed to hum, for there was already music drifting through the house from a radio. The scene was all but serene for yourself.
You touched your neck softly, with just the tips of your fingers, remembering what agony took place inside it. Your wrists, once soft and scarless were now marred with burns from the rope you had pulled on tightly one too many times. The clothes. The clothes you had picked out only a day before were discarded, and you sat dressed in the finest silk pajamas with wide pants and buttoned top. The color of the porcelain teacup, appliquéd with not flowers but circles of all shapes and sizes. It was what you had chosen for yourself, deeming it adorable and comfortable enough to wear as sleepwear. Now you felt bare, despite its cap sleeves and ankle long length.
Like the skin wasn’t yours.
All it took to crumble was one look at the tea in hand, one look at the reflection.
You threw the teacup at the wall and screamed.
***
“Is he dead?”
The mattress dipped, a new weight on it. You didn’t move, didn’t nest into the warmth like you loved to do. Only laid with your hands beneath your cheek, looking out of the ceiling high window where the moonlit sky was embracing the world. You dared not to breathe, dared not to make a sound that would disturb the calm night.
For hours, you had tossed and turned. On and on until you decided sleep was a nothing more than a wistful wish you couldn’t have. “Tommy?”
He stayed silent, as if he too knew the delicacy of the night. The sheets rustled but did not pull away from you. You stayed covered, not a speck of your body introduced to the cold.
Then he spoke, “Can I hold you?”
You bit your lip to keep the tears at bay, realizing you had kept him at arm’s length since he came for you.
Late. He had been late.
But he still came.
“He-he said,” you began slowly, speaking into the night itself, trying to not sound as disconnected as you felt. “He said I deserved to die.”
Tommy stilled.
“And he told me to give you a message,” you continued. “He said he will take everything from you. Then put a bullet through your head. So I’m asking you Tommy…is he dead?”
A moment of silence, then like death herself whispered, “Yes.”
Dead. He was dead.
Gone.
You had failed to realize you were crying until your muted cries turned into sobs. Sneaking along your body, shaking you until a body wrapped itself against you. A calm force to keep you grounded.
Tommy kissed the back of your head, “Forgive me. Please.”
He took your hand from beneath your head in his own, pressing it against your chest. Just between your breasts, a place where your frantic heart beat the hardest. You covered your joint hands with your other one, sealing them together. Sealing him to you.
“I’m sorry.”
You grinded your teeth to keep the tears at bay. Tommy kissed your shoulder, your neck. Silent, butterfly light kisses that kept you together.
“Okay,” you croaked, barely audible. Pulling his hand to your mouth, you kissed his callousness with tear-soaked mouth and placed it back against your chest. “Okay.”
Legs tangled, you molded yourself to his body as if he were the only thing standing between you and the demons that loomed over your back.
That night, you dreamt of soundless water. Of floating against it and being pulled under. Of being helpless underneath the surface.
You awoke each time, and Tommy lulled you to sleep with kisses and whispers of reassurance. It was a dance newly started, but you weren’t alone to dance it.
Note: If you enjoyed reading this fic do check out my other work by clicking on one of my masterlist links. If it’s not a bother leave a like, comment and/or reblog. It gives me motivation and lets me know that you liked what I wrote. <3
If you would perhaps want to read some of my work earlier, you can check out my AO3profile, I’ll always make sure to tell you guys when a fic is posted on there in advance!
Lastly, if you wish to be tagged under any of my future fics go to mytag list ! I no longer take requests through ask, dm, comments anymore. Once on my tag list post you’ll find a link to a Google Form that you have to fill out in order for your request to be valid! x
✭ PEAKY BLINDERS:
@lovemissyhoneybee@thanossexual@marvel-ousnesss@sextvpes @heartbreak-of-a-marauder @killerstvles @navs-bhat@kpoptrash2000 @softieekayy
✭TOMMY SHELBY:
@captivatedbycillianmurphy@remusflirts@peakyxtommy@sarcasm-n-insomnia
Requested:yes(x)
Published:November 23rd, 2021
Pairing:Tommy Shelby x Daughter!Reader
Prompt(s):none[my prompt list]
Warning(s):none
Word count:900ish
Author’s note: Trying out a different approach (one I really like). Writing Tommy x Anything will be in 3rd POV from now on. Only romantic stories will be written with the reader as YOU!
☇ my navigation
“Good evening, Mr. Shelby.”
A word of response hadn’t needed to come to give the maid a move, only a shadow of a dark clothed man breezing past the tall corridors of the mansion. She hurried out of the way with a nod, returning to her ever the same duties at hand. Tending to the kitchen, laundry, taking the snow-white dog out for a loo all awaited her. First comes the canine, she decided, because Mr. Shelby’s daughter loved it more than herself, and it felt humanely right to dot over a living thing before laundry.
Just as she would round the corridor did her masters voice reason, “Where is Y/N?”
His darling daughter. The maid fought the ghost of a smile that threatened to appear as she turned head and with a polite nod said, “In her room, sir.”
Tommy’s head bobbed once to show he heard, and then he was fully out of view. First his shoulders disappeared and then the ends of his charcoal coat.
Somehow, a man as dark as himself on a mission to see his little girl did not alarm her. Did not make her feel as though she should be around to act as a shield to the child.
Only burnt toast and talking to the coppers could get her fired.
Along with thinking that he could ever lay a hand on the joy of his world.
His daughter.
The dog barked once. Twice.
Then she too was wholly out of view, her skirts a billowing force behind her.
***
“Y/N?”
The light was a dim feature in the room, barely enough to help one get around, but enough to help read the room.
Tommy’s heart quickened in a way it didn’t all day. A way not possible unless linked to his little girl. He swallowed, then asked the air again, hoping for a childish answer. “Y/N?”
For one, the room was in utter chaos. Sheets all over the floor, stuffed toys out of the box and near the unlit hearth. The mental catalog ran true in his brain as he searched for the one living thing, he cared about but came out empty.
He clamped one hand roughly against the sheets on the bed and pulled, revealing only silky emptiness. He grabbed a stuffed teddy bear almost the size of his three-year-old and threw is across the room. He walked over to the toy box lit by the moonlight and roughly opened it, hoping to see his sleeping angel inside but came out empty-handed. Tommy slammed the box closed and when wood met wood a sound so loud and heavy reasoned through the room until it was only his shallow breaths that were left.
Alongside a soft gasp of a child.
Tommy spun around, clear, blue eyes as wild as the wind howling outside, and felt a weight of a chest so heavy it pulled him down lift above him until there was only clarity of the moment.
There she was.
Underneath the fortress of stuffed teddies and tangled sheets, small eyed and tired. She rubbed at her eyes groggily, but when her eyes met with those of her father’s, she beamed and stretched out her arms like wings. “Papa.” She said, and Tommy’s heart melted in the purest way.
It took him two steps to have her in his arms, “Come here, love.”
But she shook her head and pushed at his chest, refusing to nestle into his warmth. She pointed one small finger toward her mass of forts in the shelves and on the floor. “Here, here.”
Tommy heaved a chuckle, but settled her nevertheless. “Yeah?”
His daughter grabbed his finger in her hand and pulled, “With me.”
“I don’t think there’s enough room.”
In answer, she grabbed her stuffed bunny by the ears and threw it as far as she could with her small arms and so little true strength. There was even less space than it was before she did so, but Tommy could only smile as he settled down with her, removing his coat and shoes before gracing the floor and grabbing a big pillow off her bed. He settled it behind her back until she lied comfortably atop it. Then watched her drift to sleep peacefully, at peace because he knew he was there beside her and no one could take her from him.
Then the door creaked open, and he switched his weight until he could see who loomed through the crack. The corridor was heavy with cold, but it was soon that a small ball of fur as white as snow barreled through the gap and settled beside Tommy’s side.
The maid that brought the pup peaked inside, her face warm and impassive. If she was surprised to see him, then she didn’t show it. “Anything I can do for you, Mr. Shelby?”
Tommy grabbed the puppy with one rough hand and settled him beside his daughter, watching as it snuggled beside her and went dead to sleep, too. Then he turned to the maid and shook his head as a no, but under the influence of so much warmth and love, his words accompanied his gesture for once. “No, thank you. You go get some sleep, Millie.”
Millie nodded solemnly, and closed the door behind her, grateful to be acknowledged by her boss, even if it were for the shortest of seconds. Even if it were because the darkness in him subdued because the light his daughter provided was too strong to be fought against.
She was his castle of safe harbor.
An anchor that kept his wounded soul together.
Note: If you enjoyed reading this fic do check out my other work by clicking on one of my masterlist links. If it’s not a bother leave a like, comment and/or reblog. It gives me motivation and lets me know that you liked what I wrote. <3
If you would perhaps want to read some of my work earlier, you can check out my AO3profile, I’ll always make sure to tell you guys when a fic is posted on there in advance!
Lastly, if you wish to be tagged under any of my future fics go to my tag list ! I no longer take requests through ask, dm, comments anymore. Once on my tag list post you’ll find a link to a Google Form that you have to fill out in order for your request to be valid! x
✭ PEAKY BLINDERS:
@lovemissyhoneybee@thanossexual@marvel-ousnesss@sextvpes @heartbreak-of-a-marauder@killerstvles@navs-bhat@kpoptrash2000 @softieekayy
✭TOMMY SHELBY:
@captivatedbycillianmurphy@remusflirts@peakyxtommy@sarcasm-n-insomnia
Requested:no
Published:November 5th, 2021
Pairing:Tommy Shelby x Female!Reader
Prompt(s):none[my prompt list]
Warning(s):none
Word count:2.4k
Author’s note: Someone commented on Ao3 that there “could have got a flash back to that night of them being together and her leaving “ and I competely agree, so there is one thing you must know before reading: I was waaay more into writing about horses and racing and training and all that fun jazz and making y/n a professional and sophisticated baddie (it’s what prompted me to write this in the first place lol) than her and Tommy WHOOPS! That idea would’ve been so spicy though! Maybe next time!<3
☇ my navigation //GIF//
“Isn’t he absolutely wonderful?” You beamed, the question not even needing an answer as your words drowned in the myriad of applauding voices. The presenter’s voice could be vaguely made out, but one thing was clear to all:
It was your horse that brought it home.
“Fat Joe came through alright?”
You laughed a jolly laugh but gave your close friend a push in the shoulder, looking at him for a fraction of a second before turning to the muddy racetrack. “He is not fat Philip. He is perfect. Bravo Joe! Bra-vo!”
Your friend chuckled, matching the quick pace of your claps to his. Another victory this is for Joe, another mark in his journey. A medal of honor, and flowers to match.
It wasn’t about the money for you. Horses were your whole life. For some they passed as the most leisure of activities, but you made a name for yourself in it. Quite a quick start you had, as a duke’s daughter. Money flowed, allowing things one can’t even imagine. All in favor of the horses you had in your possession. A winning streak at only three and twenty of age.
You smoothed out your skirt and smiled at the cameras that flashed beneath.
Philip Clark was your racing manager and a close friend, and it was with him that you took your horse back to the estate where the magic had first happened. Clapping awaited Joe, people who gave as much as you did to make sure he is in his best form stood at the front gate after he came back from his win.
“How old is he now? Four?” Asked Philip even though he knew the answer.
You smiled as your hands patted his silky, black coat. He was calm, Joe, now that he was in the safety of his stall. Able to breathe in his winnings. “He’s not there yet, but yes he’s very close to four.”
“You ought to retire him now Y/N.”
“Retire him?” You furrowed your brows, “But he’s in his prime.”
“That’s exactly why I think you should do it,” Philip encouraged, walking around the stallion to meet you. His gloved hand matched the rhythm of your own and he began to gently stroke the gallant warrior. “Life as a stud would do him good with the track record he has. And you too. Think of all the money.”
You scoffed, “Believe me, money doesn’t tempt me.”
“It should,” stated Philip. “Joe’s the best middle-distance horse in Europe. Owned and trained by you. He has a column in the newspaper every week. He’ll bring in thousands of pounds as a stud.”
“That is quite true,” you rocked on your heels and eventually gave in. “But we need good candidates. Calm, gentle mares. Joe’s skittish sometimes.”
“Or maybe he needs a strong-wielded mare,” your friend said instead, his voice laced in unspoken truths. He peeled himself away from both you and Joe, making a dash for the exit. “Like any man in his right mind.”
Your laughter followed him out, “He’s a horse Philip, not a man!”
“Men are horses too sometimes! It’s hardly a different thing.”
And that was that.
***
“He has a reputation, my lady.”
“I find that I have no problem with that,” you replied to the employee, and turned to Philip for advice. “Is Mr. Shelby’s mare any good? Her color is wonderful. I see great temperament in her too.”
“Yes, yes she is.”
You nodded and turned to observe the mare again, but your eyes followed her owners. Across the dirty path stood a group of men, clothed as darkly as Joe’s midnight coat, looking all but excited to be here. At the front of the group a man rested with his gloved hands clasped at his front. The hat on his head shielded most of what looked to be a strong jaw and hidden blue gems for eyes. Quite handsome if one looked better under his hat. But demeanor wholly different from the filly that was prancing around, enjoying the attention. She had the strangest pallet of colors, but they all complemented each other well. A fine mare, and you wondered if she would be a match for your winner.
You would not let the aloof behavior put you off. These men should be grateful for your agreement.
“And her trainer?”
“May Carleton.”
You wolf whistled, sold on the arrangement. “Wonderful,” you said with a nod. “I’m sure she’ll make a fine candidate. But I should like to speak to her owner first. Make sure we are on the same grounds. I heard there was a fiasco at the Derby last year. It makes me wonder how the mare fares.”
“Yes,” agreed Philip. “She did make a solid placement.”
“What is her name?” It felt foolish to ask it now when the horse had already gone. When one meets the other, names are the first thing exchanged.
“Grace’s Secret.”
You casted your eyes on the front man, wondering if there is a meaning behind her name.
As if he knew, he lifted his chin from the ground and glanced at you. Indeed, his eyes were a shade of blue you have yet to see but so beautiful all the same. His eyes went over your styled hair and the shawl that covered it from the wind then over the fitted dark green vest, down to the tips of your knee-high, polished to perfection riding boots.
Yes. There is definitely a secret there.
And the mystery made you place one foot in front of the other and ask him to take a walk with you.
***
“Townsend Joe?”
“Yes,” you replied as a matter of fact, willing your bones to calm. “It is what I get after letting my nephew name him. But I think I quite like it. Makes for a fine brand.”
The two of you were two willowy dots by the fence looking over the field that became somewhat of a playground for horses. Townsend Joe relaxed idly and nipped at the grass here and there. The sugar cubes wrapped in a handkerchief waited in your front pocket. You dug your hands into the pockets of your trousers and dared not to look at the man beside you.
His warmth seeped through your clothes, travelling and warming you up. Thomas paid no mind to the way it made you feel, man’s proximity, and if he did then he was great at not showing it.
“I don’t doubt it.” Was all he said, drawing out a cigarette. His gloved hand offered you one, and you shook your head.
“My father’s a smoker,” you said. “Wouldn’t dream of catching his cough.”
Tommy chuckled beside you but drew a breath nevertheless. It’s his own demise. Smoking.
Your chipper voice mixed with wind as you continued to talk names, “And you? What secret lies behind Grace’s?”
“One not worth telling.”
Men and their simple answers. It came as no surprise that you enjoyed Philip’s company so much. He spoke his mind and littered words all over the person he spoke with. Yet your heart raced with men of few words. It always did. And it always will.
He has a reputation.
That was supposed to be a warning.
It did quite the opposite.
“You will find it Mr. Shelby,” you began after taking in a deep breath of the damp air, “that we tell our stories in the names of our horses.” You turned to look at him, catching those ocean eyes in your own. They were curious. Tempted to know more. “Alas, not in the case of Joe but perhaps in other. He is, after all, not my only horse.”
“You train them all, Mrs. Y/LN?”
“Miss,” you corrected him with a polite smile, and turned to the field so he wouldn’t see your rose-stained cheeks. “I don’t make a habit out of training. I own quite a number of them. Joe was a gift from my father-”
“The duke.”
You chuckled, albeit warily. He said the title with a bitter undertone. “Yes, the duke. I highly doubt that frightens you.”
Then you looked him over, your eyes like lasers into his, pinning him in place to prove a point. “I don’t think there are many things that scare a man like yourself.”
His gaze made you breathless and had you feeling like you were the only woman in the world. Above you, the sky turned into a gray hue, though not gray enough to showcase rain, but enough to enhance the black in his clothes and paleness of his features. “Your father gave you the horse?”
You swallowed and spoke with the weight of his eyes still on you. “Gifted yes, and I raised him so it felt right to train him too. Philip helped me of course, but it’s hardly an effort to deal with numbers don’t you think?”
“You trust him?”
The question took you aback, “Of course I do. He’s my closest friend.”
“Is he?”
“Mr. Shelby such cryptic words will get you nowhere,” you told him and tug your tongue in your cheek, shaking your head. “Especially not in this business.”
“I’ve been faring quite well.” He said and took a casual drag.
“As arrogant as your horse,” you noted. “I wonder how fun it must be for May to work beside you. She is after all your horse’s trainer. I, on the other hand, am here to allow your dam a quick roll in the hay with my sire. You plan to race the yearling?”
“Don’t know yet.”
“Well, I hope you do,” you said, suddenly irritated by the man. “Joe’s had a fine career. So has your Grace.”
Your words had meaning. Your Grace. That was a plan wrapped in silk to get out a reaction. How well you executed it told you his knowing eyes and the smirk that tugged at his lips. “You think something will come out of it?”
Your calm air broke at that, “Why are you here Mr. Shelby?”
“Tommy.” Was all he said in return.
You shook your head like he was crazy, “I will not call you that.”
“Thomas then.” He seemed to settle on that.
“Mr. Shelby-” You wholly turned to face him, the lapels of your west almost brushing against his. It took you by surprise, the proximity, because he was not so close before. You swallowed, dared not to look at the lips he drew sinful smoke with, “Thomas…whyareyou here? I’d trust a man who came all this way to breed his filly would know what to do with the horse that will come out. Is there perhaps a secret agenda you’re following? Whyever-”
“Do you remember me?”
You took a step back. Remember?
Do you remember me?
Why would-
“You.”
Suddenly anger flared in your veins, overcoming your senses like a fog. You turned on your heel, ready to leave him be. Facts came rushing back, accompanied by foul memories and wicked flashbacks. That one night in the great city of London.
You repeated yourself.
He knew about Joe. Knew about him being a gift.
He knew and stayed silent.
Why? To see how you act out of sheets? To see how you look adorned in work clothes?
You didn’t get far before feeling pressure on your swinging writs. One hard pull and you were against a chest you scratched with your nails senseless.
“Look at me.”
Your eyes were closed, and you didn’t even realize.
He repeated himself again after you shook your head. Then you felt his voice against your ear, his warm breath tickling your neck. The way his hand curled around your waist while the other one stayed shackled around your wrist. Your breathing turned shallow, goosebumps erupting on your silky skin. “Do you think of me as a fool?”
“No,” Tommy said.
You yanked your arm; he didn’t let go. “Then why are you doing this? Humiliating me? You think this is a joke? Is this your twisted trick at getting me into your bed again?”
“I don’t need tricks to get you in my bed Y/N,” he replied, voice laced with truth. “Why?”
You heard the unspoken extension of his question.
Why did you leave?
Why did you leave him alone in the bed and sneaked out like a shadow with only your clothes in hand? After a night spent in the sheets, where he took you over and over again, why did you leave? Why not stay?
“I don’t do meaningless sex Tommy.” It felt weird to say it out loud. “That night…I wasn’t myself. I needed…”
Silence.
“I needed to let it go.”
“Did you?”
“No,” you admitted. “Far from it. I had a taste of something I cannot have. Besides, I didn’t even tell you, my name. How did you find me?”
“When I want something, I find it.”
“And why do you want me?”
You move backward until your back is pressing hard against the fence. Tommy stops only when his face is just a few inches away from yours. This up close, he looks even more handsome. His pale skin. Sharp jaw and slight, almost invisible stubble. Dark eyelashes framing blue eyes, the color of ice.
The air sizzles between you. There is no mistaking the look of pure possession in his eyes. Only the sounds of your breathing and distant galloping of Joe’s legs are heard in the air. He’s like a shadow, eating you up until there is nothing but him. “Because you want me too.”
Then his lips took yours. Rough and commanding, knocking out air from your lungs. You’re taken back to that dark London night, the club and the blinging chandeliers. To the dark hotel room where you came with ecstasy over the course of an entire night.
You forgot how alive his hands made you feel. How blinded with lust his lips made you feel.
When you pulled apart, you buried your hands into his coat and asked, keeping your voice light and even, “You are still planning to go through with the arrangement? Joe’s quite taken with her.”
Tommy’s chuckle followed a question, “Philip?”
You looked at him, “What about Philip?”
“He’s loves you.” He said the information as if he was talking about the weather.
“But I’m not in love with him.”
It seemed to settle the storm in him. You kissed him once more, loving the way his lips felt against your own and grabbed the ends of his coat, urging him to follow. “Come. I promise you that I won’t run this time.”
Note: If you enjoyed reading this fic do check out my other work by clicking on one of my masterlist links. If it’s not a bother leave a like, comment and/or reblog. It gives me motivation and lets me know that you liked what I wrote. <3
If you would perhaps want to read some of my work earlier, you can check out myAO3profile, I’ll always make sure to tell you guys when a fic is posted on there in advance!
Lastly, if you wish to be tagged under any of my future fics go to my tag list ! I no longer take requests through ask, dm, comments anymore. Once on my tag list post you’ll find a link to a Google Form that you have to fill out in order for your request to be valid! x
✭GENERAL(allWIPs):
@fofisstilinski@short-potato@miranda0102 @httphiddlestan@caromichaela@xx-missunicorn-xx@jemmakates @wandamaxim0f @chefdoeuvre@just-arather-veryconfused-being@crazy0lu@thirstykpophoe@theletterhart@nocturnalherb16@sj-thefan@bittytish@stephhevring@e-lysium@itisjustwhatitis@sunflowerangel21@agentstarkid@keithseabrook27@jemimah-b99@peakyweirdo @fanofalltheficsx @miraclesoflove@ethereal-moongod
✭ PEAKY BLINDERS:
@lovemissyhoneybee@thanossexual@marvel-ousnesss@sextvpes @heartbreak-of-a-marauder@killerstvles@navs-bhat@kpoptrash2000 @softieekayy
✭TOMMY SHELBY:
@captivatedbycillianmurphy@remusflirts@peakyxtommy@sarcasm-n-insomnia
I know this is random (believe me it is) but I’ve written a Tommy one shot completely out of the blue today. I really enjoyed it idk I hope you will too!
SUMMARY: Working with horses is what you deemed yourself good enough at to be able to make a living out of. But your all-star champion needs to retire while he’s at his best because it’s a smart move on the business side of things. He’ll do you good in other departments, and with a small twist of fate bring back someone who you’ve long since forgotten about.
I have posted this already on Ao3 (this is only a snippet from Word) and you can go check it out N-O-W. ☛ click here
Violent Melody - Tommy Shelby
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.
“That he is,” you replied.
Tommy Shelby:@tinktheartist,@riveranddoctorsong123,@beth-gallagher22,@locke-writes,@lora21,@thegirlwhoistrying,@ghostsunderstoodmysoul
Blinders Business
Pairing: Thomas Shelby x female/Leader/Reader
Summary: As Thomas Shelby hears of a thriving business in town, he arranges a meeting with the head of the company.
Warning: Gun, War, Peaky Blinders Business
Word Count: 2.9k
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.
Taglist:
blyanyanfckminialessandra97921-800-coffeemillies0bsimpmarvelwhoreunfortunatelyalessandra9792smailawaysummertimedepressionalldaysdreamerselliazemystic-gnomekathrinemelissatedpicklezdaynaelizabethclairereynolds
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.
Lost and Untold
Pairing: Thomas Shelby x female/Reader
Summary: Thomas Shelby, a single father, lost his son at the fair and finds him in the arms of an unknown woman and is enchanted by her.
Word Count: 3.4k
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.
Taglist:
blyanyanfckminialessandra97921-800-coffeemillies0bsimpmarvelwhoreunfortunatelyalessandra9792smailawaysummertimedepressionalldaysdreamerselliazemystic-gnomekathrinemelissatedpicklezdaynaelizabethclairereynolds
Duties of a Husband
Pairing: Thomas Shelby x female/Reader
Summary: Thomas makes his wife know how deeply he loves and needs her.
Warning:Smut
Word Count: 1.2k
a/n. Requests are open!!!
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.
Lost and Rewritten
Pairing: Thomas Shelby x female/Reader
Summary: Thomas Shelby, a single father, lost his son at the fair and finds him in the arms of an unknown woman and is enchanted by her.
Word Count: 2.1k
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.
Good For Business (Jealous Tommy X Female Reader) One-shot
Summary: You have worked at the Garrison for months now. What’s suddenly got Tommy so jealous?
Word count: 1690
Warnings: Swearing. Jealousy. Fic gets a bit heated right at the end, but it’s nothing explicit.
A/N: Please feel free to send me a message/comment/ask, I would love to know what you think.
If you like this, please feel free to visit my blog and take a look around! You can find my masterlist in my bio.
Tommy hated it. Really hated it. Clenched jaw, hands coiled into fists, hated it. Every time he sat in that damn cosy at the Garrison, he felt every nerve ending flare, watching through the opening as you moved about serving ale and whisky to the men of Small Heath. His steely eyes silently scrutinising every second bloody man vying for your attention. Not that he could blame them. You were effortlessly warm and inviting; impossible to ignore.
They hired you for that very reason; you were good for business. But Tommy had no idea how easily and how quickly you would carve out a spot in his heart, nor how powerless he would be to stop it. And for a while, it was easy enough to ignore, to deny that little portion of his heart even existed. After all, it was obvious to him, that all the smiles and laughter you exchanged with the patrons was never anything more than harmless flirtation. But as the months past, that little portion began beating faster and louder every time someone spoke your name, quietly and unassumingly sneaking its way through every surface of his heart, embedding itself like the beautiful deep roots of an oak tree.
And so, here he sat once again, in the cosy of the Garrison, half listening to the banter of his brothers, while his main focus was you. That hazardous smile that disarmed man after man, your infectious laugh that brought warmth to the stoniest of faces and the kind effortless way you diffused their advances, before they even had the chance to feel rejected. But fuck, he didn’t realise just how firmly those roots were embedded in his heart until today.
You were busy with your back turned to the counter when an unfamiliar and rather ordinary looking man walked in, stopping behind a group of men waiting to buy their next round. He stood there, clearly impatient for you to turn around and see him, his expression full of expectation, but you were completely oblivious to his presence as you continued serving the men before you. Tommy shifted in his seat when the unexceptional man smiled with anticipation, there was fondness there; on his lips, it was unmistakable. This man knew you… and knew you well. Clearing his throat, he shifted in his seat again, his unsmoked cigarette lying forgotten as it burnt slowly and steadily towards his fingertips, and his glare trained to the face that waited so patiently for you to see him.
Tommy hated that it took every ounce of strength to keep his backside in his seat, when what he really wanted was to march up behind you, take you by the hand and lead you to the office, before you could lay eyes on this stranger. So sure he was, that he would not like your reaction. And in the next moment, he wished he had. When your eyes caught sight of him, you nearly dropped a bottle of whiskey on the floor, stopping short of jumping over the counter to reach him. Regaining some form of composure, your impatient feet took you around to the front of the bar, throwing yourself into his waiting arms, but it was the expression on your face that broke Tommy. Pure joy. It lit up your features in a way he had never seen before, the sight sparking instant and unwarranted hatred for a nameless man he was yet to meet. He was jealous. Plain and simple. There was no other word for it.
It must have been only five minutes, five long jealous minutes, struggling to keep his expression neutral and unreadable, ignoring the strange looks he was getting from his brothers as he watched the interaction unfold. After returning behind the bar, you got straight back to work serving the other patrons, while the man claimed a stool right in front of you. And even though you kept pouring drinks and interacting with the regulars, he was the one that held your attention. There was such affection in the way you spoke to him, even without hearing your words, Tommy could see it. He wanted to be on the receiving end of it. Wanted to be the unexceptional man you showered your affection upon. And the sight of it got too much.
Looking to his hands, he noticed the trail of ash his cigarette had dropped across the table, and the tense way his fingers gripped the empty tumbler. With a measured breath, he scrapped the glass back and forth across the surface, before looking back up. It could not have been worse timing. There was your hand, reaching across to rest upon the man’s forearm, your heads almost touching in the middle of the counter as he spoke secret words to you. Reacting impulsively, Tommy threw his burning cigarette to the floor and stood to his feet, the chair scrapping loudly across the floor in the process and without another thought, he pushed his way through the door of the cosy.
Tommy’s legs took him quickly through the growing crowd of patrons, his expression warning them to give him space. Making his way across the front of the bar, he caught your attention with a wave of his arm, pointing in the direction of the office, his voice hard, “Y/N! Can I’ve a word with you in the office?”
Nodding your head, you took off your apron and threw it to the counter, whispering to the man before you followed, but Tommy caught every word, not hearing a single thread of concern amongst them, “Well, it looks like I’m in trouble.”
Entering the office, Tommy gripped the door knob tightly as he waited for you to join him, closing it rather forcibly behind you. And when you met his intense gaze, you were surprisingly calm, yet genuinely confused, asking, “Tommy. What’s wrong… has something happened?”
Usually, Tommy never acted so impulsively, he knew it was ridiculous and completely out of line, but he couldn’t help himself. Taking a short breath, he kept his voice as even as possible, “Y/N. We don’t pay you to spend your time conversing with all our customers.”
Putting your hands on your hips, you were not intimidated in the slightest, and it would’ve been a lie if Tommy said it didn’t turn him on a little. Fuck, that defiance brought to life every feature of your face. With a stubborn raise of your brow, you replied, “Ah… No Tommy, that’s precisely what you pay me to do.”
Taking a step closer, your expression softened just enough to draw his attention to the knowing look hidden quietly within your eyes, asking him the question you seemingly already knew the answer to. “Me, conversing with our customers has never bothered you before… what makes tonight any different?”
As the last word left your mouth, you took yet another step closer, close enough for him to feel the gentle warmth radiating from your body; it was still not close enough. Glancing to the floor Tommy cleared his throat, realising he was beyond the point of returning to his days surveying you from the cosy. Propping himself against the desk, he crossed his feet at the ankles, his hands resting on the edge at his sides. “That was before,” Tommy waved his hand in the direction of the bar, “that man came in here and… who is he Y/N?”
You almost laughed, and Tommy tried to keep his expression neutral, “You’ve got to be kidding me, Tommy.” Biting your bottom lip, you shook your head in amusement, “Everyday you’re here, you see men smile and flirt with me and it doesn’t bother you in the slightest.”
“That’s where you’re wrong, Y/N.” Standing up, he stepped towards you, picking up a lock of your hair, gently placing it behind your shoulder, noticing how your breath hitched at his touch. “It’s always bothered me… but I have never seen you so happy to see someone before… and I know I have no right to be jealous, but I am.”
This time, a little chuckle did escape your lips, and Tommy suddenly felt a little sheepish, but God, was your expression doing something to him right now. “Jealous. Of Peter? Oh Tommy. Of all people to be jealous of… He’s my cousin, and I haven’t seen him in years.” Running your fingers along the edge of his jacket lapel, you shook your head, the flirtatious manner in which you did so, far surpassing any other he had witnessed you bestow upon any other man. And it thrilled him. “If I had known a visit from him was all it would take for you to notice me, I would’ve asked him to visit months ago.”
If Tommy was the type to get embarrassed, he would have turned scarlet, but he wasn’t that kind of man. Instead, he reached forward and slid his fingers around the side of your neck, his palm firmly cupping the nook under your ear. Pulling you closer, your body brushed against his, the sensation making it difficult to think of little else. But a deep breath cleared his head for long enough, to say, “He’s your cousin?”
It was more of a statement than a question, but you answered anyway, “Yes, Tommy… He’s my cousin.” Reaching up, you wrapped your fingers around his wrist that still cradled your neck, and moved his hand to your cheek, before brushing your lips across the roughness of his palm, your warm breath teasing his skin as you spoke. “But one day it may not be.”
Tommy didn’t say another word; he couldn’t, his lips were too occupied by yours. Fumbling his way to the door, he took you with him in a mess of limbs, both your bodies crashing against its frame, clumsily searching for the blind. Pulling on the cord, the outside world disappeared, it was just you and him. Fuck, why hadn’t he done this sooner? And as you wrapped your legs around his waist, he murmured through broken kisses along your neck, “Yes. One day it may not be.”
Petty-Thomas Shelby x Reader
(GIF credit to@zodiacc)
Requested by anonymous: ‘Hi, I’ve been reading your works and really love your writing and would like to ask for one too Could you write Tommy Shelby x Reader who he’s known since childhood, basically his first love, an angel for him, they have a feeling for each other growing up but never said it out. Then there’s Grace and the story gets more complicated because she(reader) thought that Tommy is in love with Grace when actually he is in love with her, so he confessed his feeling.’
Characters:Thomas Shelby x Reader, mentions of other Shelby family
Meanings: (Y/N)=Your name
Warnings:Swearing, sexual themes, arguing, jealousy
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
“Here’s the papers you wanted, Tommy.”
Ah, there she was. Tommy waited to hear that voice every morning. He went to work desperate to just catch a glimpse of her before he had to get back to business. Looking up from his writings, he held back a smile as (Y/N) approached him, a stack of paper in her hands.
“Morning (Y/N), how come I didn’t get my usual welcome this morning?” he asked with a smirk.
(Y/N) had always made sure to have a hot cup of tea waiting on his desk, with her sat outside his office at her own secretary desk. They would greet each other before going over the agenda for the day and what needed to be done. However, (Y/N) couldn’t be found that morning.
“Oh, well, you would not believe the morning I’ve had.” her professionalism dropped as she perched on the edge of his desk, still angled towards him.
Tommy didn’t hesitate to look at her arse, and how accentuated it was with how she sat. His eyes quickly flicked back to her face as she started speaking again.
“So I came in early as I do, was going to help Pol set up like usual. Poor Sophie is also here, Pol said something about training her up to open so it’s not always us and she’s trustworthy. Anyway, I come in to find Sophie crying next to the safe because she forgot the code Polly gave her, and Pol was shouting orders left, right and centre. Basically, she couldn’t handle Polly’s wrath so I had to help, which took longer than expected.”
“You have had a busy morning.”
“Haven’t I just?”
“What would we do without you, eh?”
“Not much. Especially you.”
“Is that right?”
“You couldn’t even get these papers off my desk yourself. It’s only situated outside the door, Tommy.”
“Keep talking like that and you might just face the consequences.”
“Oh? You going to fire me?”
“No.”
“Then what are you going to do to me?”
Tommy leaned back in his seat, lighting up a cigarette.“You’d have to wait and see.”
(Y/N) couldn’t deny that this was getting her hot and bothered. She and Tommy always bantered and flirted like this, though over the past few years, their words had become more and more bold. They knew each other since they were children, growing up on the same street and playing together. Their friendship stayed strong as they grew up, everyone always teased the pair that they would get married one day, making the teenagers blush. It was as if they both knew about their feelings for one another, but neither wanted to act upon it, in fear that their assumptions were wrong and they would ruin the long friendship they had.
Tommy and (Y/N) would make a very attractive pair. Of course Tommy had the sharp Shelby look, a mysterious man that enticed women, he was confident, smart; he knew what he wanted and how to take charge. And (Y/N) was no doubt one of the most beautiful women in Small Heath. She stood out from the other workers, she had an aura about her, something that said I know my worth and you can’t tell me otherwise. It wasn’t arrogant, it was strong, yet she was also one of the sweetest people you could meet in a shit hole like this. It was a wonder why a man hadn’t married her yet…actually it wasn’t, it was because Thomas Shelby always scared them away.
“Still going for drinks at the Garrison tonight?” (Y/N) said as she got off the desk.
“If I must.”
She laughed, making her way to the door.“Oh come on Tommy, you love going really.”
“Only when you’re there.”
(Y/N) smiled at him one last time before leaving the room, her confident facade disappearing instantly. Tommy really made her nervous, in a good way. Although it frustrated her too; some mornings she would try to hype herself up, finally tell Tommy how she felt about him, hoping he felt the same. It had been going on for so long between them, it was agonising.
The work day went by as it always did, filled with flirty remarks between the two, lingering touches when passing things to one another, longing looks. Finally, it was time to head to the pub. (Y/N) was on Tommy’s arm as they walked, a normal sight. As they entered the pub, (Y/N) noticed Tommy’s attention fall on someone else, a blonde barmaid. She hadn’t seen this one before.
“Tommy? You coming?” (Y/N) tried to sound light, tugging on his arm towards the private room.
“I’ll meet you there.”
He didn’t even look at her as he spoke. Sadly she pulled away from him, following the rest of the Shelby’s. (Y/N) put on a smiling face, despite worrying about what Tommy was doing with that barmaid. She had no right to, they weren’t together. When the window to the bar opened, (Y/N) grabbed the drinks, wanting to peak through. As she slowly slid them towards herself, she saw them in deep conversation, Tommy casually leaning again the bar, the barmaid seemingly cool and collected as she spoke to Tommy; women were always flustered around him, which he didn’t care for, and this worried (Y/N), because what if he took an interest in her?
“Take your time love!” Arthur laughed.
Trying to distract herself by playing cards with the boys, (Y/N) found herself glancing up to the door every time a shadow passed it. She found herself losing every round, not being an amazing player anyway, though it was as if she had never played before. When Tommy did decide to join them, (Y/N) suddenly didn’t want to speak to him.
“What took you so long?” Arthur asked as his brother sat down next to (Y/N).
“Didn’t you see the new bird at the bar? Tommy wasn’t wasting any time.” John chuckled.
(Y/N) kept her eyes down on her cards. Tommy glanced at (Y/N)’s cards, leaning over to whisper in her ear.
“You’re doing terrible tonight.”
“Thanks.” It was blunt, it was rude.
“I can help you win.”
“I don’t need your help.”
Now Tommy could see the first reply wasn’t an accident, she had meant to snap at him.
“What’s up with you?”
“Oh, you’re actually paying attention now?”
“What?”
(Y/N) didn’t answer, continuing the game. Tommy remained silent, perplexed at the woman’s behaviour. What had he missed? He wondered if his brothers had said anything, but she wouldn’t be playing with them still if they had.
Luckily, the family didn’t stay for very long that night. They still had work the next day, and although that didn’t usually stop them, it was going to be a busy day, a big race was on, meaning lots of betters would swarm the shop. Although (Y/N) was still pissed at Tommy, she expected him to walk her home like he always did. Gathering her things and saying goodbye to everyone, she turned to see if Tommy was also ready to leave, frowning at the sight. There he was, leaning against the bar, talking to that barmaid again. (Y/N) made herself known as she walked over, letting her heels click loudly on the floor.
“Tommy, you coming?” she asked, using his nickname.
“I need to stay. Business.” he lazily replied.
“But, you always walk me home.”
“Not tonight. One of my brothers will.”
(Y/N) glared at the woman across the bar. Maybe it wasn’t her fault that Tommy was staying, but it didn’t annoy her any less. Whipping around, she quickly made her exit, slamming the door behind her before catching up to the other Shelby’s. John and Arthur walked (Y/N) back to her home, not taking any notice of her temper. She was quiet for the most part, only speaking when spoken to. Were all men so oblivious?
Once again, Tommy didn’t see (Y/N) at her desk, assuming she was already busy with work. She would pop in soon enough. Settling down in his seat, he noticed there was already two stacks of papers in front of him, before he had even asked to see them. Perhaps (Y/N) had to help the floor today, and made sure he was set up first. But as he sifted through them, he noticed they weren’t in categorical order, the dates were all mixed up, some things had been signed and others weren’t. Confused at her lack of organisation, Tommy headed towards the door, poking his head out of it.
“Where’s (Y/N)?” he asked an employee rushing by.
“Oh, she’s out on the floor, Mr Shelby. She offered to help seeing as it’s the big race today.”
Tommy just nodded, dismissing the man. Stepping out of his office, Tommy scanned the room for her, it was hard to see through the hoards of people in such a small space. As soon as he spotted her on the other side of the room, he made his way through, not caring if he had to push a few people away.
“Why aren’t you at your desk?”
(Y/N) was bending low over a table, scribbling down names and numbers.“Good morning, Mr Shelby.”
“Are you trying to play a game here?”
“I’m simply working, sir.”
That would have sounded a lot more pleasing to him if she wasn’t being so snappy with him.
“I appreciate that you’re helping but those papers you put on my desk are not up to standard.”
She still hadn’t looked at him.“I didn’t have time this morning. There were floods of people as soon as we opened. I assumed you could organise them yourself, you’re a clever man.”
“If you weren’t like a member of the family (Y/N), you could be fired for speaking to me like that.”
“That’s alright, I’ll get a job at the Garrison, like that pretty, little barmaid. Then you might actually notice me.”
“What?”
She sighed, standing up straight.“Would you like me to put those papers in order for you, Mr Shelby?”
“Why are you angry with me?”
“I’m not.”
“I don’t have time to argue about this. Return to your desk and get on with your usual work.”
They stared at each other, not wanting to be the first to fold. (Y/N) pouted, making a show of herself walking away from Tommy. He followed her a few steps behind, watching as she dropped into her seat, immediately getting on with work, and not looking at him once again.
“My usual tea would be nice.” he spat before disappearing back into his office.
The day went on like that. (Y/N) brought him a cup of tea but it wasn’t how he liked it, the second time she made it, she purposefully used like warm water so it was cold by the time she brought it to him. She gave him pens that were low on ink or just broken, stale biscuits to nibble on; it was all very petty but she didn’t care. It was the only way she could get back at him.
After a very long and busy day, the workers were excited to head home and put their feet up. (Y/N) always walked home with Tommy, or at least said bye to him if he could leave. But not tonight. She was making a run for it. Apparently she wasn’t running fast enough.
“(Y/N), a word.” Tommy ordered before she could even walk past his door.
Huffing, she slumped into his office, loudly closing the door. He held eye contact with her as she approached the desk, not offering her a seat.
“Yes, Mr Shelby?”
“What the fuck is wrong with you today?”
“The fact that I have to tell you annoys me even more.”
“So I’ve done something?”
“Yes.”
“And what did I do to upset you so much?”
“You…you didn’t walk me home last night.” she felt childish saying it out loud, even though that wasn’t the actual reason she was upset.
He scoffed.“That’s why you’ve been a bad secretary today, eh? And what the fuck is all this formality about?”
“It’s professional, isn’t it?”
“Yeah, fucking professional to bring me the wrong paperwork.”
“It’s not like you need me to figure out how to put papers in date order.”
“It’s your job, (Y/N). You make my job easier, that’s what you do. This isn’t just because I didn’t walk you home last night, what’s happened?”
She had no defence, she didn’t know what else to say. She couldn’t tell him the real reason, it would seem so foolish.
“It’s nothing.” she mumbled.
Tommy noticed the change in her demeanor.“(Y/N), has something happened that I don’t know about?”
Technically yes.
“I’m fine. Can I go home please?”
“No. You can’t go home.” he stood up, coming to stand in front of her.“I’m not letting you leave until you tell me what’s wrong.”
(Y/N) was silent.
“You said something about noticing you, earlier today. Why?”
“I think you’re looking too deep into-”
“Why?”
(Y/N) had to bite the bullet. She couldn’t come up with another bullshit story fast enough. Even it she did, it wouldn’t be believable.
“I was jealous.”
“Jealous about what?”
“You and the barmaid. As soon as we walked into the Garrison I was invisible. You wouldn’t even look at me. The way you looked at her, I wanted you to have that much attention for me. I want…I want something more Tommy.”
“I have never looked at another woman the way I look at you, let alone that barmaid.”
“Don’t lie. It was like you were infatuated with her.”
“I was interested because she’s not the regular type of person to work in that kind of place. She’s suspicious, I don’t trust her. I was trying to get information about her. And I couldn’t let thatvmoment go to waste, I stayed behind because she was more open with no one around.”
“So, you weren’t trying to sleep with her?”
“No.”
“But you-”
“(Y/N). I’m not interested in her, at all. Let’s be blunt, we both know we’ve been wasting time.”
“What?”
“Did you hear what I said? I can’t look at any other women and not compare them to you. You are above everyone and everything else in my life. I’ve never said any of this to you because of what I do. You were already in danger because of how close you were to the family. But I’ve realised I can’t keep using that as an excuse. I need you (Y/N), I want you.”
“You really mean it? You’re not just saying all these things? Because you have to mean it, Tommy. I…I’ve loved you for so long and waited, and waited, and waited for something to miraculously happen. I don’t want to ruin it.”
“You won’t.” he stepped closer to her.“I love you (Y/N), I fucking love you. I have to have you as mine.”
Both of their breaths were getting shallower, they were so close to one another. They had waited for this moment their entire lives. Although it was a sweet moment, the angst that had been building up all day turned into heavy lust. Tommy pulled her towards him by the collar of her coat, roughly smashing their lips together. She instantly gripped onto his waist coat, steadying herself from the sudden action. He turned her around in his grasp so she was against the desk, leaning her back on it. He leant over her as she laid down, kissing her neck.
“Tommy.” she half moaned as he sucked on her neck, her fingers gripping on the back of his head and neck.“We’re…we’re doing this here?”
“Yes.” he breathed out, hovering over her as he hand gripped her thigh. It slowly moved up under her skirt as he continued speaking.“I’ve imagined this scenario too many times. I’m going to fuck you on this desk like I’ve always dreamed of doing, and you’re going to take it.”
➴ Summary:In which Tommy has to wait to catch up with her.
➴ Pairing:Tommy Shelby / fem!reader (3rd POV).
➴ Warnings:Angst, rape and abuse mentions, death.
➴ Wordcount:2.9K
➴ Tagged:@angelaiswriting
➴ Author Note:Proof-reading is for the weak. Enjoy!
Act 1: Childhood.
Thomas is no older than six, that makes her five. Like his shadow, she’s found behind him at all times; silent and reserved, it seems no one can make her live but him.
She holds his hand, scared of the great beast that, tall and proud, stands before her holding her stare. Horses are beautiful animals and she has a fascination for them, but their size (and teeth) scares her. Thomas has been helping his uncle with them, so laughs, squeezing her hand. There’s no need to be afraid, so long as he’s there with her.
“It won’t eat me, right?” (Y/N) speaks in that soft voice that’s so characteristic of her it makes Thomas blush. He shakes his head, no. She places all her trust in him, taking a step towards the horse and raising her free hand to pet it, not once letting go of Thomas.
She feels the soft fur under her hand; she caresses him as Thomas has taught her: using slow and confident strokes, and tons of respect. At first, she’s nervous - it’s too tall an animal that can kill her with a simple kick, but it allows her to touch him, even lowers with head (which makes it a lot easier for her, given her stature) and she soon relaxes and laughs, daring to kiss him. The horse (that she learns is named Ironheart), nuzzles against her head.
Behind her, Thomas observes and studies her; the delicate features that come to life with a simple smile, no matter big or small, how she scrunches up her nose when she’s rapturous. He isn’t able to express how it makes him feel, still too much a kid for words of devotion, but hopes that time will teach him to do it. As in now, all he knows is that there’s both calm and excitement on his heart when he does so little as think of her, and that’s a feeling he has no desire to ever let go of. Thomas relishes the happiness she brings, the same one he wishes he makes her experience.
It’s impossible in their minds that this moment - this feeling, can ever end.
(Y/N) turns around, the sunlight strokes her cheek and makes her hair shine. Before he thinks of what he’s doing - even if he does, what can he do? He’s a child, and it’s just a touch- he’s mimicking the sun, the softness of her skin makes his hand tremble.
“Can I…” Thomas sentence dies almost before it begins, his voice lost somewhere in the back of his throat as (Y/N) melts into his touch.
However, she somehow knows what he wants and nods, swallowing the raging butterflies at the pit of her stomach that are making her tremble too. She straightens her back, takes a step towards him. Thomas is close to fainting- her everlasting touch is all that can calm him down in this moment. Her mother often tells her a kiss is a sign of love and affection, and that when she’s older she will be kissed. It is, though, while she’s still a child that it happens; Thomas takes a step forward, his hand falls from her face to her hips and, as he’s seen his father do rather often, he lowers and tilts his head. (Y/N) takes a breath before their lips connect; as she exhales, his touch is gone, leaving her in confusion and satisfaction, and with the hope he’ll dare to kiss her more often.
(Y/N) covers her mouth, even though it is impossible to hide the smile that threatens to rip her skin apart. Her face is red as if she had just run from the hills down to the canal, just as breathless too, but still smiling, still standing on her tiptoes to kiss his cheek in gratitude.
She lets go of his hand, then, running outside. Thomas is forced to follow her laugh; her frame gone before he can even react. He laughs, shaking his head before he runs after her; knowing he can catch up with ease but giving her the advantage she wants, and he does this because he’s being taught to be a gentlemen, let women win and respect them, and because he knows in his heart that no matter how fast she goes, he’ll catch up with her.
Always.
Act 2: Teenagers.
It’s a cold, late-October night; the skies are dark and threatening, some lightning illuminates the streets as the storm approaches Small Heath. Thomas tightens his coat and fastens his pace; his left hand going into his pocket to find shelter from the cold - and to ensure the small, green velvet box is still in there. His breath condenses as it leaves his lips, creating a cloud of white smoke so thick it is difficulting his sight.
None of that matters, though, because tonight is the night his life is going to change forever and he can’t contain his happiness. A weak voice in the back of his head prepares him for a rejection he knows will never come, as he reminiscences the previous night; the heat of her skin against his, the wetness, the sounds, the elation as he emptied himself inside her. Just the thought of it makes it difficult to walk, his cock twitching on his trousers as hard as his heart is beating against his chest.
Thomas takes a breath and steadies himself, raising his fist to knock on her door. He can hear her parents arguing, some furniture being hit. His thoughts change trail when she opens the door; gown too thin for autumn but that allows him to see underneath. Thomas swallows, hoping she hasn’t noticed how his gaze has roamed her entire frame, spending a little longer at her breasts. (Y/N) has, of course, noticed, however she’s a lot better at hiding her feelings as he is, and she drowns her satisfaction and pride. She smiles at him, for him, stepping outside and throwing herself at his arms. He catches her, wrapping his coat around her frame, shielding her from the cold wind that hits.
Perhaps he should’ve chosen another night - a night in which her father isn’t drunk and upset, but if he had to wait for that, then he’ll never do what he’s come to do.
“Something wrong?” Her voice calls him, soothes him, ensures him.
He shakes his head, “no,” he tells her. Nothing can be wrong when she’s here - but that’s something he thinks to himself, smiling as he leans down to kiss her.
“(Y/N),” her father calls at the door. He’s not upset, just worried. It’s cold, too cold outside, in her nightgown she’s asking to freeze to death. “Hello, Thomas. Please come inside.”
Thomas shakes her father’s hand, letting her go in first and keeping a respectable distance. It doesn’t matter if he’s seen them kiss; (Y/N) is still his daughter, this is still his house, and Thomas is still the man that hopes her father approves of.
Once inside she sits next to her, with her parents sitting on the couch across, doing their best to ignore the fight that was taking place mere minutes ago, though still looking upset and uncomfortable of being so close to one another. It gets Thomas thinking; none of his thoughts positive. He remembers a time the couple in front of him were the happiest, even his mother had been jealous of their happiness. All of that seemed to be gone now, vanished in resentment and growing hate that tears their household apart. He looks at (Y/N), soft frown decorating his face, making him look older - is that their fate, too?
Thomas can’t imagine a future in which he doesn’t worship her, but the fear is now there. It’s there and it’s strong, and he’s starting to think he’s made a mistake coming here tonight. His hand finds itself inside his pocket again; Thomas can’t help but notice how the weight of the box has increased and it’s almost forcing him to sit in place.
His fear increases when she turns her head to look at him and smiles - her smile is turning sad and broken and insincere. Although he knows it’s all in his mind, it’s provoking his heart to skip beats in an unnatural, unpleasant manner. A hammer hits the back of his head, a voice is telling him to run if what waits for him is a limited time of happiness and an afflicted life. The memories of the previous night are no longer strong enough to keep him sane, and he’s letting go before he has the chance to stop himself.
(Y/N)’s mother is the one to break the uncomfortable silence that’s formed, forcing him to turn his head towards her. “What brings you here tonight, Thomas?”
As his hands find rest on his lap, all thoughts of making her his wife are gone, the wind carries them somewhere else. “I was helping Charlie with the horses, preparing them for the storm, and thought I could take a few minutes to see (Y/N).” His answer pleases her parents, but she’s seen right through him and his lies.
“I must be leave, though. Aunt Pol will be upset if I don’t arrive before the storm breaks.” One truth, isn’t that enough?
(Y/N) walks him up to the door, opening it for him. Thomas does kiss her, makes it last. Her touch almost makes him react and be brave. Almost.
Thomas never thought of himself as a coward, but tonight he’s discovered a new side of him.
Act 3: Gone.
It’s during a warm summer morning that he receives the news. He’s walking with Greta when John and Freddie appear running, screaming his name. John’s face is red and swollen, with tears still running down his skin and meeting the ground within seconds. Freddie is doing his best to appear tougher, hoping this might help John calm down.
A knot has formed at the pit of Thomas’s stomach; it’s boiling hot and expanding, like iron. He hears the words before his friend can speak them.
Thomas lets go of Greta’s arm, walking - running, past all three of them. He isn’t thinking, but he doesn’t need to to know where he has to go. His feet take him to (Y/N)’s house.
Ada and Finn are outside: Pol and Arthur inside, speaking with a copper. Thomas sees that (Y/N)’s husband is surrounded, six coppers circling him, guns in hand. Ignoring the different and numerous voices that ask him not to, he steps inside; last time he did it, he was going to ask her to be his wife, and left her house as a coward.
She’s on the floor, blood all around her. Her stomach is open, a knife lies next to her. He can see some of her nails are missing and her right leg is broken, like her dress and underwear. Her skin is pale but it has bruises all over it, the biggest one decorates her cheek. She lies on her back, looking at the kitchen’s window, seeing nothing. Her eyes are made of dull, old glass that doesn’t let the light pass through, and her half-open lips welcome no air.
Thomas kneels besides her, afraid to disturb her peace.
Peace, is that what he’s calling it? She isn’t at peace, she’s fucking dead.
She lies dead before him and it’s all his fault, and not a single part of him can bring himself to realize he’s not the one that’s killed her, he would’ve saved her if he could. However, that’s what is burning him from inside out - he could’ve. If that night he hadn’t let the image of two old, resentful people cloud his mind and judgment and instead of leaving her house in a rush he had asked his father permission to propose, if he had proposed right then and there, then she wouldn’t lie dead on the floor right now. She’d be on his arms, laughing, telling him how much she loves the sun and begging him to walk just for another five minutes. Instead of that he left her house, and the next morning he was fucking Greta and two other girls. He might have not been the one to stab her, but the bastard that has had the chance to do it because Thomas gave it to him, served in a silver plate.
“Thomas,” Pol calls him. Her voice is soft and delicate, and she rests her hand on his shoulder as she does so. “Thomas… the … she has to be taken now.”
“What happened?”
Neither Pol nor Arthur answer him, but coppers are not as smart and one of them - the one that seems to be in charge, explains the situation to him.
“Her husband beat her up, broke her leg and a few ribs. Bastard bound her to the floor, then raped her. After he was done, he stabbed her. He claims she was pregnant with another man’s child, but our doctor has found no traces of such. He’s going to the rope for this.”
Rope? No, Thomas is not going to give him that chance.
Arthur is supposed to stop him but he doesn’t - he sees his little brother doing his best to not fall apart and, instead of reasoning with him, he asks the coppers to give him room. Thomas, that has never been a violent man before, once again finds something new about himself as his feet take him outside her house, and his fists fall over and over again against the face of the bastard that has taken her from him, his laugh haunts him, it echoes in his head, hand in hand with his words.
His bloodied mouth doesn’t stop him from winning a battle Thomas didn’t even know he was fighting in the first place. “She called for you, hoping you would save her. Where were you, Tommy? Where were you?”
Where were you, Tommy?
His laugh is still heard, even after Thomas has blown his head off.
Act 4: Home.
Nothing can save Thomas now, no one can ask him to live. He has made their lives difficult and sad, this is the right choice. He pulls the trigger.
He wakes up and expects to find Grace waiting for him - and he’s almost sure he can make out her figure in the distance, but there’s someone else blocking the view, someone he still dreams of even when he’s awake.
“You feel better now, after abandoning them?” (Y/N) speaks, nodding somewhere behind him.
Thomas turns around - Pol, Finn, Arthur, Ada and Lizzie, and his children, all are in a waiting room. It breaks his heart to see his children cling onto Lizzie for dear life, the tears difficulting their breathing. Arthur is shaking, keeping it together. Pol comforts Finn, and Ada tries to find comfort on her son’s arms.
“Come, we don’t have a lot of time.”
He doesn’t hesitate and follows her. Walking from his mansion to the canals the two would spend hours at, (Y/N) walks in front of him. She’s as beautiful as he remembered - and he’s thankful she doesn’t look like the last time he saw her.
Thomas calls her name, but she doesn’t stop on her tracks. He has to pick up his pace to catch up with her. He does, though, catch up with her.
“Shouldn’t we have all the time in the world?”
It’s a stupid question - perhaps she means he’s going to hell, as he deserves, and she has to return to her place in heaven. However, if that’s the case, then she’s come here to greet him, to see him. Thomas wants to wrap his arms around her, hold her, and as selfish as it is, bring her to hell with him, if that means spending a thousand eternities with her.
(Y/N) laughs, though, at last stopping at the cut. “No, we don’t. You’re going back.” Is he? He doesn’t want to. “It doesn’t matter. It’s not about what we want, but what we have to do. You have to go back, fix the things that are broken and care for them. Arthur, Finn and Ada can’t lose another brother, Pol can’t lose another nephew, and those kids can’t lose their father. If I had to bet, I’d bet Lizzie can’t bear to lose her husband, either, no matter how much of a dick he might be to her sometimes.”
“Alone?” Oh, there is it. It’s so sweet and terrible at the same time. It begins in the back of his head and travels to his eyes; he never thought such burn would bring him so much joy. It is sooner than he expects that he’s crying. However, in front of her, he allows himself to.
She nods. Of course he must return alone - she’s been gone for more than a decade, she is nothing but bones that rest underground now.
Her arms fall around his shoulders - she’s a head shorter than him still, and has to tilt her head back in order to look at his face. Thomas wraps his own arms around her waist, feeling as if he’s reminiscing one of his memories. She’s not upset, she’s not resentful. She exudes an aura of love and forgiveness he doesn’t deserve, but he lets himself drown in it. Then, he is apologizing: for being a coward, for letting her go, for not saving her. He apologizes for things he never even did to her, and she listens, and nods, and comprehends.
“You’re forgiven, Tommy.” He feels her lips, he breathes in the air she gives him. “I love you.”
Thomas lives from now on with the hope the next time he sees her, it’s the right time to catch up with her.
