A/N: So maybe you have noticed a pattern, which is that I write a stupid amount of smut and 0 plot. Ya girl has no shame and i’m hella extra so here it goes. smutty smut smut smut smut featuring yo boii dommytommy (bonus of some fluff at the end <3) As always, please lemme know what you think. This is my first dommytommy so just shoot me a cheeky lil message if you think its shit and I will stick to subtommy (who i love in equal measure my lil boy) or just gimme some love SINCE WE ALL KNOW I HAVE A MASSIVE PRAISE KINK PLEASE AND THANKS I LOVE YOU ALL I HOPE YOU ENJOY
Word Count: 5027 words of SMUT! You’re welcome and I’m sorry
Warning: dommytommy, impactplay, breathplay, sacrilegious, blasphemous, i wrote this after going to church with my gma so i’ll see y’all in hell
He loved the game. The chase. The capture and the defeat.
The thrill as the hunt played out.
The way he never knew what to expect from you.
No game was ever the same. Each encounter a new puzzle to solve. And you were the greatest enigma of them all. The one he would spend his life trying to solve, without even the slightest hope in his success.
You were fire, but you were air—lighting him up without weighing him down. You carried him and you grounded him. You were his end, his beginning, and everything in between.
You were his.
Tommy watched you from across the room where he sat in his chair. The leather cool against the cloth of his suit, juxtaposing the heat that radiated off from where you stood in front of him. He brought his cigarette up to his mouth, inhaling the bitter smoke as he narrowed his eyes on you, trying in vain to decipher your mind.
He watched intently as you slinked your body around the room, your hand slowly moving to remove your dress, your shoes, your stockings, until you stood directly before him, naked—save for the necklace around your neck, a small emerald he said had reminded him of your eyes when he gave it to you. His eyes trailed your body, his eyebrows raised curiously as he sized you up. He started at your feet, dragging his eyes up to your naval, then your breasts, to finally your face.
Your lips were wearing a smirk, one that he knew all too well. This was you giving yourself over, daring him to take what you were willingly placing at his feet.
“Come ‘ere,” Tommy whispered, opening his arms, and guiding you toward his awaiting lap. Once you were seated, wrapped in his arm, pinned against the sculpted and taut muscles of his chest, he kissed along the side of your face, grazing his soft lips up your jaw, nibbling his teeth on the skin in his path.
“Tell me what you need princess,” he murmured against you, his breath hot on your ear.
“You.Sir.”
His hand came up under your chin, grasping it gingerly. “Kiss me”, he demanded, bringing your soft lips to his.
The passion in Tommy’s kiss built slowly. His lips starting off soft against yours, willing your body to ease further into his own before gradually becoming more intense. His hand fell from your face onto your breasts, his fingers grazing roughly along your nipples, his thumb and forefinger twisting and pinching them hard enough to make you writhe on top of him. Hands continued on your body downward, palms manipulating the supple flesh of your hips with a bruising force. The whimpers that escaped your lips turned to moans and turned to whimpers again as he worked your skin between his capable hands. Tommy pulled away his mouth from yours to attend to your open neck, attacking the flushed and heated skin with his teeth and tongue, his actions alternating between gentle and savage. With your mouth free from his you were breathlessly moaning his name, your body defenseless against the feeling on his hands on you, exploring you, possessing you. Lost in the moment, you didn’t even notice where his hand had moved until he slid his fingers along your slit, humming with pleasure into your collarbone.
“Princess,” he began, bringing his mouth back up to your awaiting lips. “Mmm… Already you’re such a mess.”
Tommy was ruthless as he shoved his fingers deep into your cunt, curling the tips upwards against your inner walls as his thumb circled your hardened clit. You could feel the metallic bands of his rings inside of you, the cold contrast against your heated center making you jump and twitch against him. Trapped between his chest and his free arm—which had found refuge on your thigh, spreading you open for him— you had nowhere to move or escape. Tommy was in total control over everything.
The hand that was once grasping open your thigh was now lost in your hair, Tommy bounding up the long tresses in his fist with a harsh pull, forcing your face back upwards to meet his, the jerking movement ever so slightly separating the space between your mouths, keeping your connection close enough that you could swallow the next words he spoke.
“Fuck yourself.” The phrase was bitter on your tongue but you gulped it down like it were wine, craving, and hungry for more of the biting taste to graze your lips.
Once the command rolled off his tongue, he kissed you again. Every action of his declaring the scene to be between more than just lovers. He was making a claim. Demanding possession over your body. Greedy for nothing more than to own your desire and sew it into his own. Your hips rolled onto his hand without any second thoughts, your body accepting his commandments as it sacrificed itself at his altar. With your arms around his neck, you brought him closer to you and buried your face into his skin as you gasped for breath. His smell and taste a delirium inducing mix of sandalwood, mint, earth, and tobacco and you drew it in eagerly, rocking your hips with more fervor against his fingers. Tommy thrusted up his hand to meet your body, his maneuvers sending violent shivers down your legs which began to twitch as they hung off the edge of the chair. Your muscles were clenching around his fingers, the heat and pressure slowly escalating to hit their crescendo.
“Shhh…Not yet princess,” he began to coo once you started calling out his name with each exhale of your lungs.
“I- I needa- Tommy…. God please!” you cried out, actual tears forming in your eyes from the exertion it took to stave off your orgasm and wait for his permission.
“No no no. You only need what I need now princess. Who’s in charge here little girl?” he quipped back, moving your face to face him yet again, willing your eyes to open to look at him as he stared you down hard.
“You sir! You’re in charge…but please,” you cried out breathlessly, struggling to form the words around the moans escaping of their own volition past your lips. Tommy only continued to shush you as he moved his fingers deep in your cunt, a licentious smile becoming a permanent fixture in his expression.
Your nails were dug deep into the side of his neck as you continued to rock your hips against his fingers. You were clinging to him, desperate to keep yourself grounded until he released you. But as Tommy moved his thumb once more against your aching clit, any chance of waiting for his verbal permission was lost.
It erupted from your core all at once, a primal and visceral cry escaping along with it. Tommy’s fingers stilled within you as you continue to rock against him, riding out the waves of your orgasm. You mind was a haze. Your consciousness consumed and overwhelmed with the thunderous electrons pulsating through your body. Tommy’s eyes were glued to your face, mesmerized with the way your body reacted to his touch, but frustrated over your lack of control.
Lightheaded and blissed out, you feared the come down, already picturing Tommy’s forlorn expression of disappointment from behind your eyelids. You felt a hand push away the tendrils of hair from your face, and wondered for a second if it were your own before you felt the wet rings that belonged to his fingers graze your skin. His slick thumb ghosted along your bottom lip, his forefinger forcing its way in to your mouth, demanding you to suck.
“Look at me Y/N,” he whispered gently, the softness in his voice coaxing you into thinking it would be all right. But as you opened your eyes to meet his, you knew it was a lie as good as any of the ones he had told his enemies who also shouldn’t have trusted him. His dilated pupils mocked you, the ice-blue irises held you frozen as his fingers grasped onto your face roughly. “Which one of us is in control eh? Must I remind you my little girl? Must I force you to submit to me?”
“Tommy-I-c-.” You tried to speak, explain, apologize, anything. An impossible feat with Tommy’s hand holding your jaw in place.
“You will get on my lap princess. You’ve disappointed me. Now if you’re sorry, you will have to show me. Go on kitten. Face down.”
You did as you were bid and climbed off Tommy’s lap with his help. He guided you how he pleased, your belly resting on his knees, your head hanging down by his calf, your arse in the air. The feel of the cool air against your still wet and hot cunt made you squirm. Your body relished in the feeling— the intensity of the orgasm still coursing in all your senses. As Tommy ran a hand down your back, you instinctually arched for him, a small moan escaping from your lips from the change in position between your thighs. Tommy’s hands stroked you lovingly, although the tender caresses lasted for only a few seconds.
You heard the ringing of his hand against your ass before you felt the sting of it on your cheek, your mind barely having enough time to react before his palm came down again on the other side, the wet rings on his hand hitting you with such force, you could feel the colour of your skin start to change from pink to red to purple.
The blows started coming too soon after the last, and not soon enough, Tommy keeping the rhythm erratic to keep your attention focused on him and him alone. If he had wanted you to keep track, you had lost count, his strategic and methodological strikes coming down on the same spot on each cheek. You whimpered out helplessly into his calf, knowing that nothing unless his own satisfaction would stop the blows.
“Why am I doing this?” he asked simply, after a particularly harsh blow that sent you lurching forward on your hands.
“Because…” you began, trying to regain your breath that he just knocked out of you a second ago. “Because I-I came without permission. Because you’re in control and I didn’t listen to you. Sir,” you rambled off, the sting in your cheeks making your eyes start to water and your legs tremble.
Tommy savoured the way your body reacted to every blow, the way your back curved with every grace of his hand, the way your skin changed colour under his touch. He took another minute’s pause, running his fingers gingerly along your mottled backside, sucking his breath between his clenched teeth as he felt you wiggle against his hardening erection.
His hand came down hard against yet again a couple more times before his gentle caresses soothed you once more. Humming as he trailed his fingers against your sopping cunt which was yet again yearning desperately for him.
“Think you’re ready to behave now my little princess? Or shall I continue?” A smile could be heard in his voice, the proof on his fingers already telling him that you would do or say anything to please him.
“You’re the boss, sir. If you think I’ve learned my lesson…” you trail off, your mind struggling to keep your wits about you as Tommy shoves his two fingers deep into your core, teasing you to cement his domination over you. You tried to remain as still as possible, letting him touch you as he pleased—this was his game now.
“You did well my girl. But you’re not done yet. Get on your knees and get ready to pleasure me. Maybe then I’ll forgive you for your insolence”
Tommy stood up quickly, the unexpected motion sending you falling onto the floor. You scrambled to your knees and waited for him as you watched him begin to undress himself. Tommy’s fingers expertly managed to untie his tie without looking, his eyes fixed on the drool escaping your lips. You were as eager as ever to touch him once he unbuttoned the front of his shirt and exposed his chiseled chest. You admired him like you would a god, his body was a sacred text that you would willingly study, read, and recite every night before bed.
His fingers beckoned you to finish the rest, which you did with great enthusiasm, desiring nothing more than to feel him, to taste him on your tongue as you prayed his scripture back onto his skin. You quickly unclasped his belt and trousers, ripping them down his leg with his minimal help. Tommy watched your eyes light up like a child on Christmas morning as you moved back to rid him of his shorts. An uncontrolled grunt moving past his tongue as he waited in anticipation.
With his cock free, you were suddenly ravenous, your tongue wetting your lips instinctually as you stared at his form. You approached him like a predator would its prey, an expression that made Tommy buck his hips when noticed, watching your face with his keen eye.
“Open your mouth for me princess…nice and wide,” he commanded, sitting forward in his seat closer to your face. Without hesitation you opened it for him, a smile wide on your face as waited for him to spit in. You were careful not to swallow, despite how badly you wanted to, but spread him along your lips. After-all this was technically a gift for him, not for you.
Parting your moistened lips, you licked the precum from the tip of his shaft down his length, swallowing the extra only once he was nice and wet. As you brought your mouth down against him, everything else ceased to be. All that existed was him. The soft and silky skin of his shaft as you took him in your mouth, his rough hands in your hair pushing you further down still, his enticingly bitter taste flowing down your tongue to the burning pit building in your stomach.
Him. Him. Him. It was all Tommy.
Tommy leaned back against the chair as you eagerly sucked him, his one hand behind his own head for support and the other atop of yours for control. He was shoving you down, slow, and deep—forcing you to take him down your throat, his strong grip on your hair squashing any chance you had at denying him— though the thought of doing so would never cross your mind. Your body tensed as you struggled to adjust your breathing against his relentless pace. But Tommy, wanting you to only act and not think, soon took mercy—bringing your mouth against the tip of his cock to allow you to catch your breath, before resuming his earlier rhythm.
Forcing your eyes open, you gazed up at him, staring at the small scar underneath his chin, making that your focus. Your vision was blurred from the runny black tears caused by your mascara but you could see him perfectly. His mussed up hair, his open mouth breathing in shallow breaths, the flush spreading up his clavicle and jaw. Tommy himself was also enthralled at the sight of you as he stared down past his cheekbones through his lashes, for someone usually also so composed and in control, you sure did know how to get wild. You were willingly choking around him as you began to swallow, massaging the tip of his cock with the muscles in the back of your throat.
“That’s it. God—that’s it my angel. Good girl,” he grunted out breathlessly, loosening the grip on his hand on your hair and closing his eyes, revelling in the way he felt in you..
After a few moments, you pull slightly away, bringing his tip back into your mouth and humming around him to get his attention back on you. When Tommy finally brought himself to look back at you, you pulled your mouth away from him, keeping him stimulated with your hands as you climbed up on your knees, bringing your open mouth closer to his face—begging.
“Please sir,” you begged, opening your mouth, keeping your eyes on his.
Tommy, wanting nothing more than your mouth back on him, was more that happy to fulfill your request, spitting once more into your mouth and face. His collapse back onto the back of the chair enough to get you back to your task. You continue the ministrations of your hands, alternating the firmness of your grip to keep things interesting and you sat back on your heels. When you sucked his balls into your mouth, Tommy moaned out with unabashed passion as his body twitched slightly beneath you. Switching the positions of your hands and mouth, you took Tommy deep once more, knowing that he wasn’t likely to last that much longer.
His hands returned to your hair as his need got more intense. His fingers wrapping around your dampened tendrils, simultaneously pulling, and pushing. You were moaning around him as you swallowed him back in your throat, the sight of him through your hazy eyes and the sounds of him roaring around the room enough to titillate excitement in your own core with an angry passion.
Desperately, you were seeking the deliverance he offered between his legs. Your mouth whispering prayers around his sculpted and veined skin, consecrating him as your divine. Tommy became your heaven, your hell; your master and prisoner; your salvation and damnation. When he came, he baptized you with his forgiveness and love. The salty and sweet taste of your redemption gushing past your lips and down your chin. Tommy let you pull off him, knowing you would you take great care in cleaning him up. As you were lapping what had spilled down his softening shaft, a few more pumps of his desire sputtered into your hair and jaw. You took him back into your mouth, coaxing the rest of his orgasm with your tongue, a smile trying to form around him as you moaned with glee and satisfaction. Tommy’s eyes were on you, watching as he once again disappeared down your throat, his attention forced solely on the sensation of your tongue on his undershaft. A devilishly handsome smirk on his face as you pulled him away from your mouth with a wet pop to rest your head on his strong thigh, sighing with unadulterated relief. He felt you shake against him where you sat next to his knee.
However, there is no rest for the wicked, and Tommy grabbed you by your hand and pulled you back onto his lap, cradling your tired body against his sweat sheened chest. You hardly even registered the movements as they happened, only focusing on the distance between you and him which closed at such a sluggish pace it felt like slow-motion. Before you were even seated on him, your hands were in his hair, your lips atop of his. You kissed him with a forceful sense of urgency, craving more from the man who was taking everything from you, but leaving you more fulfilled and liberated than ever before.
Tommy was murmuring praises between breaths, his cock firming up again already as you curled yourself further into him, begging him to take take take. He revelled in the taste of himself on your tongue and drank in the delicious flavour, kneading his hands into the softness of your skin. His breathing became shallow as he felt your right hand move down past his hair with a desperate tug, finding the scars on his left clavicle. He didn’t know why it soothed him so much to feel your touch there but it did and as he looked down at you with his heavy lidded and impossibly blue eyes he knew he had you.
Tommy’s hands were digging roughly into your hips as he pushed to get you to move off him. With the help of his strong arms, Tommy guided you around the back of the chair, bending you over, adjusting your knee so that it was angled above on the chairs armrest. Your back arched in preparation as you waited for him to position himself behind you. His hand trailed up and down your back as he assessed you, watching your body shiver and shake under the trail of his palms. A hard slap rang down once more on your bottom cheek, forcing a guttural cry from your lips.
“Tell me princess, should I fuck you now? Tell me how badly you want me to fuck you” he asked briskly, teasing your wanton cunt with his tip while he waited for your reply.
“Yes,my king. Please, please fuck me… I need it please. Fuck me!” pushing your hips back against him you were begging, your voice broken, your body writhing underneath his in pure desperation for relief…for him. “Oh god, fuck me!”
With hands digging hard enough onto your hips to leave bruises, Tommy pushed himself roughly into you, forcing a strangled groan from deep in your throat to escape as the sensation of his rigid cock appeased the aching need between your legs. Already wet, Tommy slid in almost effortlessly, his own control weakening from the intense feeling of being inside of you, from knowing that he owned you. With one hand still holding roughly onto your hip, his other hand travelled around your waist, searching for your clit. It all felt so right. The way his hot and thick cock felt inside of you. The way you fit against him like this. The way he claimed your body as his own. Nothing was there holding the two of you back. No barriers. No business. No family. Just a game between lovers. The thrill of the conquest. The high that came with total victory.
With each lustful, animalistic cry that escaped your lips, you were giving in, allowing him more and more space to go in for the kill, knowing the hunt was coming to an end.
“Tell me what you need princess,” he grunted into your ear as he moved his one hand from his hip to your throat, squeezing his fingers around you ever so slightly.
“You, sir,” you breathed back, struggling against his strength to reach his face with your own, wanting his lips on yours.
“Who do you belong to?” he growled again, circling your clit with even more fervor.
“You! I’m yours. This body is yours, please sir, uh god - fuck me, use me— I’m all for you!” you screamed, grinding yourself against his hand and hips. A litany of other words, some curses, some pleas, some incoherent ramblings, continued to spill out of your mouth as he fucked you.
“I want you to come all over my cock princess. You don’t need to wait— just give it to me. I want it all”
With Tommy giving as much permission as you needed, you came hard and fast around him. Your clenching inner walls tightened, providing him with even more pleasure as he continued to roughly thrust deeply into your now squelching cunt.
Under his hands, he could feel you quiver around him, knowing the pressure of both his cock and his hand would overstimulate you past the point you would be able to hold yourself up. Removing his hand from your mound, he found your supple breasts, greeting them with a savage squeeze before taking your nipples between his powerful fingers one at a time. The crude brutality with which he handled you was enough to ignite the fire within you yet again, as if your previous orgasm was nothing but foreplay.
Without even being aware of moving your body, your hands somehow found the back of Tommy’s neck. Using his longer hair as makeshift reigns, you pulled him closer to you, begging his lips to meet your open mouth. With his own hand still around your neck, Tommy chokes you closer to him still, feeding on the breaths and moans that fell from your tongue like they were to be his last meal. Your head felt as heavy as lead but as light as a feather as his fingers clenched around your throat.
You loved this feeling—the excitement of the capture, the exhilaration that came from being nothing but a tool for his pleasure, the liberation you felt from his domination.
By now Tommy was fucking without much rhythm, just mindlessly burying himself in you over and over again, staving off his own release until he had you screaming, crying, and pulsating wildly around him. Waiting until he had total victory. Until you gave him all that you had left of yourself.
Your open mouth was drooling around his, slinking down past his knuckles where they continued to hold you hostage by your throat. With your muscles choked under his hand, you could scarcely breathe let alone scream, the resistance only allowing for quiet, raspy moans to escape, which Tommy understood regardless.
As another orgasm roared through your body, you violently shuddered under him, your body going limp in his arms. Tommy watched your undoing, felt your usually composed body surrender to him, his cock seeming to swell even more powerfully inside you, gushing with such intensity, it felt as though a river was running through all of his veins and straight to where he met you.
When Tommy finally came inside you, your name was falling from his lips, the cries of his passion silencing when he sunk his teeth into your shoulder, his breath hot and sticky on your skin. You could feel the cum drip hot and slow down your thighs as Tommy continued to spill inside of you, the sensation warming you both physically and metaphysically as you thought of how much he filled you with his release.
With Tommy collapsing on top of you, your bodies fell limp on the back of the chair, his surrounding yours and melting them both down into one. His thrusts inside of you weakened as he finished riding his climax, until he finally pulled out of you, pulling more broken moans and whimpers from your lips.
As Tommy rolled your body over to face him as he stood up, he felt like he could come all over again just from the sight of your face. The unadulterated euphoria radiating from every pore, the tears of exaltation streaming down your face as you cried. Even though your eyes were open, you could not see a thing, your vision white and black and red all at the same time as your body continued to tremble on the chair. Tommy pushed the hair away from your face, humming softly to you as he watched you with your mind in a blurry haze. He could tell you were not registering anything that was happening just yet, the expression not changing in your face even as he picked you up and carried you to his bedroom.
Laying you down on the bed, Tommy sat close to you, continuing the gentle strokes on your face until you came back down to him. After a few moments, you did— your head turning into the feeling of his soft caresses until you could suck his thumb into your mouth, needing the comfort of the action to help ground you back to him. When he noticed the light in your eyes return, he finally spoke, his voice a soft whisper which still had the power to echo deep through your veins.
“How are you feeling?”
You tried your best to focus your eyes completely on him, hoping that if your words failed, he could still read your face to know how brilliant you were feeling right now.
“Mmm…’m okay,” your words were weak and shaky, but still audible and coherent. “‘Want you ,” you said as you smiled around the words, trying with all your might to move your leaden limbs to reach for him.
“Shhh… you already have me Y/N. You did so good for me princess, but anymore and you’ll be far too sore tomorrow. You need to rest now.”
“Mm, not like that…I just—I want you, come here…please? Hold me?” With your brain still fuzzy around the edges, you couldn’t be sure of the faint blush you thought you saw flash onto Tommy’s cheeks, but even thought that he might have blushed was enough to bring a dazzling smile onto your lips. A sight that made Tommy’s heart flutter against his ribs as he watched.
Acquiescing to your request, Tommy slid into bed next to you, carefully drawing you closer to him while minding your sensitive backside and thighs. His mouth found your hair, pressing gentle kissing to the top of your head as it rested against his chest. Your heart rate starts fluttering again over how soft he is in this moment. Holding your face in his lithe fingers, he brings your lips to his, beckoning them open with his velvety tongue against you bottom lip. The kiss was soft and slow, allowing you to savour the moment, to treasure the feeling of being all his.
The tenderness that Tommy exhibited toward you made your heart swell, the way he comforted and soothed you back down from your high brought silent tears to spill down your cheeks. Tommy was quick to catch them with his thumb, separating your mouths to murmur praises into your skin.
“Hey, shh shh princess, c’mere, I’ve got you—I’ve got you. You were so good for me today,” he began to say, smoothing his hands all over your body as gently as his voice. “Thank you, Y/N, thank you for giving yourself to me. You have no idea how proud it makes me to know that you’re mine. You’re my princess Y/N.”
Tommy had called you by name, and you were his. The hunt, the game, the capture, and defeat— none of it mattered anymore. You were in his arms, and he was in yours.
A/N: Warnings: NSFW. plot? what plot? this is pure smut, smutty smut smut smut smut
Pairing: sub!Tommy x reader
Word count: 4075 words of SMUT
this is my first sub!tommy piece so PLEASE LET ME KNOW WHAT YOU THINK. i live off of feedback (especially of the positive variety✨) so if you liked this please lemme know! Also if you have some ideas of what I should write next YA GIRLS DONE UNI so ill have so much time to write (job? what is a job?) so please send some stuff my way.
You would never tire of it. The sight of him beneath you. The feel of his shuddering body trapped between your thighs.
Thomas Shelby—the king of Birmingham, the man who one day could be emperor of the world—vulnerable beyond all recognition because of you, because of your touch. Here he was, laid underneath you, naked, defenseless, utterly exposed— giving you all that he had, all that he was, and begging for you to take even more.
Tommy would never tire of it either. The way he felt being at your mercy. The relief that came from his submission. The warm and comfortable feeling of being safe despite relinquishing his control. But most of all, you. He would never tire of the way that you felt, the way that you made him feel. It was mystifying. Beautiful and terrifying. Addicting and all-consuming.
With your smooth legs straddling his waist, you made sure the ties around his wrist and the bedpost were strong enough to withstand him. Tommy always resisted the bondages at first. Never wanting to actually admit to you (or himself) just how much he needed you to dominate him, to take control, to silence his mind— even though his body always ended betraying his reluctance in the end.
Crawling your way back down his body, you paused briefly to kiss him hard on the mouth, your tongues quickly falling in rhythm with each other. Humming against his wanton lips, you forced yourself to pull away, grinding your hips against his as you continued moving your mouth down the path to his chest. Tommy used to hate it when you would spend time exploring all the scars and markings on his body, having some irrational fear that you would be repulsed with the evidence of his failures— the scars symbols that he wasn’t quick enough, smart enough, or in enough control to beat his enemies. He at first didn’t believe you when yo would tell him how much you loved his chest, his markings, his scars—but you loved everything about him, he was your Tommy. You kissed your way along the constellations that formed in his freckles, taking your time on his scars to show your respect for his resilience and strength. Tommy loved it when you peppered his skin dark and purple with your teeth, no longer able to deny the utter pride he felt when he saw the markings days later reminding him that he was yours, and you were his. When your mouth reached his nipples, you simply couldn’t deny yourself. Tommy always became weak when you would start rolling one between your mouth and the other between you hand, using your teeth and nails in a way which always got him whimpering.
The feel of your warmth even through the fabric of your panties had Tommy writhing wildly beneath you. The otherwise quiet room was disturbed by the sound of heavy breathing and the creaking of the headboard as Tommy pulled against his restraints. Each breath that escaped his lips was followed by your name. The way his desire thickened his accent to form each syllable of your moniker seemed like a prayer that he could only ever whisper to you in moments like this.
“Y/N… Please.” Tommy pleaded, his voice quiet but overflowing with his lustrous need.
“Tell me what you want Tommy.” You answer, stretching upright to admire the map your mouth left on his skin. Littering his skin like directions to his secret treasure. It made you smile thinking what would happen to his credibility and authority if anyone else saw him as you did now. His thick black hair so gloriously dishevelled, his skin glistening with sweat. His chest covered with the evidence of your devotion and power over him. Nobody would believe that the Tommy Shelby, the feared gangster and powerful businessman was tied up, naked and vulnerable in your bed, willing to do whatever it took to give you pleasure, even at the expense of his own.
“Please-please Y/N. Let me touch you. Please. Please.” God how you loved it when he begged. Tommy’s voice was distraught, his breath weak and shallow. He needed this, needed you, and his voice told you just how much.
“You will Tommy. Just not yet. Be a patient soldier and be good for me okay?” You whispered as you brought your mouth back onto his, figuring you would let him kiss you to compensate for your answer. “Just a little bit longer I promise you. Do you trust me?”
“Yes! Yes, I trust you.” He breathed out anxiously, trying with all his might to move his hips beneath you for some much-needed friction down below.
“Good.”
Continuing your trek down his flushed chest, you silently moved one of your hands to your already heated and slick center, coating your fingers with your liquid desire. Your eyes were fixed on his, a devilishly coquettish laugh escaping your mouth as you watched his reaction with unparalleled satisfaction. Tommy’s eyes were lit up bright blue, shifting quickly back and forth from your face to the hand that was hidden inside of you, waiting like a dog who had been told to sit as his owner got him a treat. His mouth was drooling and his breathing erratic. It was a sight. When you shoved your fingers in his open mouth, he was more than ready. Tommy was sucking back your juices with a crazed hunger, moving his tongue in earnest to make sure he swallowed every-last-drop of you.
“You like that Tommy? Like knowing what you can do to me without even having touched me?” His response was a scandalous groan of agreement from around your fingers. “How should I reward you for getting me so wet hmm? What does my good boy think he deserves? Should I suck my soldiers cock? Tell me what you want Thomas.”
“God Y/N yes. Ple-please…please–your mouth–tong–.” His voice came out through sputters. Every nerve ending in his body so fired up with adrenaline and anticipation for your touch that his mind was in a haze. When Tommy was in such a state, he couldn’t even really tell where he was actually being touched, the sensations so strong they spread all over his body.
“Very well, since you begged so nicely. On one condition soldier— you are not allowed to make a peep. Is that understood.” You voice clear that it wasn’t meant as a question. Staring him dead in the eyes as you waited for his non-verbal agreement. Tommy wasted no time in nodding his assent, throwing his head back hard against the pillow as you moved your body off his lap and onto his calves, trailing your tongue along him as you moved down the rest of his torso and up until you reached his aching shaft. Tommy had to exert all of his control and power to stop himself from whimpering as you flicked your tongue against his beading slit, which already had been leaking out the opalescent pearls of his wanton desire. His hips bucked automatically, but quickly calming in their frenzy as you forced them back down with your hands as a warning.
“Mmmm. Tasty little thing, aren’t you?” You moaned against his veined skin, teasing him with your tongue just before taking him in whole.
“Fuck. Ah!”
Uh oh.
Tommy stilled completely, mentally cursing himself for disobeying the one thing that you had demanded of him. He was used to disappointing people, especially those in his family—but he could not stand the shame that came with disappointing you. He waited anxiously to see how you would react, terribly afraid that you would reprimand him by removing your touch from him altogether—which admittedly he thought he deserved for his insubordination.
But you didn’t.
Instead when you pulled Tommy out of your mouth with a wet pop, your wrapped your palm tightly around his saturated cock and began stroking him at a torturously slow speed. You moved so you were no longer straddling him but close beside his leg, and you used your free hand to peel your saturated knickers down your legs. As you let the cool air contrast against your heated center, you roughly shoved the fabric into Tommy’s mouth, gagging him.
“Tsk tsk tsk. I said I didn’t want to hear a sound from you didn’t I Tommy? Was there something about what I said that you didn’t understand?” You asked sweetly, despite the concealed cruelty behind the words. You shoved your panties further in closer to his throat, and held his jaw to force him to clamp the fabric tighter with his teeth. “If I hear another sound come out of that pretty little mouth of yours, I will stop. I will make you watch me as I get myself off. I won’t let you touch and I will not let you be touched. And you won’t be able to come for a week. I was being nice earlier—rewarding you for being so good. Are you going to be a good soldier for me now Tommy, or are you simply going to continue wasting my time?”
Tommy wanted nothing more than to speak, to beg you to forgive his insolence, to explain how badly he needed you, how badly he wanted you. He wanted to scream out that he could you be good for you, that he would be for you. But instead all he did was nod his head, because what else could he really do? You had him at your mercy and you both knew it.
Gingerly you moved the hair that had fallen down by his eyes with your hand—an act so intimate and sweet in its nature Tommy almost forgot how you literally just threatened him a moment ago. As your other hand continued to lazily stroke his cock, you purposely let your nails scratch along the throbbing veins. Tommy knew this was a test and that you were goading him. Almost as if you wanted him to make another noise, to fail. But that was what he needed from you wasn’t it? Not the reassurance that he wouldn’t fail, but that his failure could be forgiven and learned from without the threat of rejection. That he could relinquish control, free fall in the uncertainty of the chaos and you would be waiting at the bottom to catch him and help build him back up again.
Shifting your body around you moved so you were now facing his feet, your calves surrounding his head, breasts hovering above his naval. Your sopping and exposed cunt dripping decadently above his face, just barely out of his reach. Before Tommy even had the chance to react to the dangerous proximity of your soused heat, you once again took him whole in your mouth, pressing the leaking tip of his cock against the back of your throat making him cry out softly against his gag. Humming your lips around him, swishing your tongue across his girth as you bopped your head up and down, Tommy was a mess.
He began alternating between whimpering and growling around the fabric of your panties that were still tightly held with his clenched jaw. He could taste you, smell you, fuck he was staring directly into you as your cunt trembled and dripped above him, but it was nowhere near enough. He wanted you in his mouth, wanted so badly to be inside of you, to touch you, to be engulfed by you. He was crying from how much he needed you. A privilege he was desperate to earn.
Normally you would make him wait just a little bit more before giving in, but tonight you found it hard to rationalize putting off your own pleasure just to teach him a lesson. Without taking your mouth off him, you reached back behind you and found his taunt jaw with your fingers. Moving your hands blindly across his face you found his mouth and pulled the sodden fabric out, disposing of it somewhere on the floor, freeing the tongue that you so desperately needed. Tommy was belligerent in his gratitude as you removed his gag and required no instruction for what to do next, the removal of the oral obstruction was as much direction and permission as he needed.
His mouth was already wet when he made contact, he had been salivating like a dog ever since you tightened the restraints around his wrist earlier in the evening. If there was a word to describe the manner in which Tommy devoured you, it would be maniacal. He was a crazed animal, greedy from deprivation, teeth bared and tongue savagely running along your folds. His lips sucked around your engorged clit, growling so ferociously that the vibrations sent charges all over your body. No longer strong enough in your legs to hold yourself above him, you pressed your cunt right down against his face. Your hips grinding on him so hard, he could scarcely breathe.
But he didn’t need to.
Tommy needed you and nothing else. When it came to moments like these, you could take his life, take his money, take his power, he didn’t care.He would lay everything at your feet so long as he could have this. The joy of giving it all to you, the pride of making you scream his name, the peace that came from you taking control.
The freedom he found through his submission.
Sensing how close you were you dropped Tommy out of your mouth— far too preoccupied in your pleasure to care about how lewd you must’ve looked as the mixture of saliva and cum drooled slowly from your open mouth. You tried to continue lazily stroking Tommy with one of your hands but found it much too hard to pay any proper attention, your brain overwhelmed with your own sensory overload. Rommy was a man was as sure of what he could do with his tongue as he was with a gun. You would probably argue that his tongue was a weapon in itself and capable of mass-destruction. Well-versed in the various ways to please you, Tommy knew exactly how to move his tongue to give you your climax— rolling just the tip of your clit gingerly between his teeth and lips.
Your orgasm came all at once— erupting from your core with a strangled and primal cry, which did nothing but spur Tommy on to continue, going for seconds. Your juices poured like milk over his face, your cum and his spit dripping licentiously down his jaw and neck to pool on the pillow beneath his head. Tommy did his best to lap out your mess with his tongue, trying to balance his job to pleasure you over catching his own breath which was shaky from the ferocity of your own undoing—but he would choose you over life any day. You rested your head atop his thigh while you let him finish, incapable of denying your lover the simple pleasures of his favourite sticky treat that you made special just for him. His tongue was exploring the inside of your once more. The precision and rhythm with which he moved on your overly sensed cunt was strong enough to induce delirium. It wasn’t long before the familiar sensation that had began building steadily in you core had erupted yet again cascading down his face in warm streams, quickly being swallowed again by your eager lover.
Groaning through tender satisfaction, you reluctantly pulled your body off from Tommy’s, moving almost comically slow from the overexertion brought on by your orgasms. You turned your body back around to face him properly once again, laughing in contentment as you looked upon his face that was slick and glistening from the mess of your cunt.
“My god Tommy you’re brilliant.” You say smiling wildly into his eyes, bringing your mouth on his to taste your own sweet concoction that was mixed with the whiskey and smoke from Tommy’s tongue.
“…Was I uh—good for you…?” Tommy asked in a breathless whisper. Despite making your come twice in the span of minutes, he worried you would still be disappointed in him for his insolence earlier and not reward him.
“Oh yes. Yes-you-were-Tommy. So good luv—I’m still trembling” You say laughing into his delicious mouth “… And to think you did all that with just your mouth. Gosh so amazing Tommy, and since you were such a good little soldier, I’m going to let you touch me. Would you like that my darling?” You flirtatious asked, smiling as you touched the lips you so adored with your trembling fingers.
“Oh God yes. Yes-please, please… let me touch you…” Tommy’s breath was shaky, his eyes desperately pleading his case. He was moaning how much he loved you, needed you, desired to worship you as your arms reached up to his which were fastened to the headboard. When he was begging like that—in complete dissociation from everything apart from your touch—there was no way you could deny him.
Immediately after being released from his restraints, Tommy pulled you closer to him, breathing in the scent of your hair, murmuring his gratitude into your skin. His strong arms helped move you so you could straddle him once more before he sat up grabbing onto your face to attach your mouth to his with an open mouthed kiss. You let Tommy take his time exploring your skin with his calloused hands. He did earn it after all. Still kissing him, you were breathing words of praise straight into his mouth, telling him all about how good he made you feel, and how proud you were that he was yours. If Tommy wasn’t so distracted with the feel of his hands over you and the ache from his neglected cock, he probably would have burst into tears.
Pulling back ever to slightly so you can look into Tommy’s eyes— which had darkened considerably from his heightened lust— you asked him a question he wasn’t used to hearing on days like this.
“Is this how you want me soldier? You were so good to me today I’ll let you pick which way I use you. Go on Tom, tell me how you want it.”
He paused for a minute of disbelief before answering with a shaky voice.
“Just like this. I want tt-to see you. I want to touch you. Please. Can we–like this?” His eyes were glazed over as he spoke, and you swore you could see tears in his eyes from how happy and at peace he was in this moment.
Kissing him hard along the jaw you lifted up your hips, one hand positioned on his chest and the one grabbing hold of his sweltering and blood-engorged cock. You teased him for just a moment along your center, coating yourself with the precome that was still beading out his tip. Tommy went absolutely rabid as you took him in inch by inch– he even bit down hard enough on your shoulder to leave a heavy indent…not that you minded of course. It was always amazing to see how Tommy was when he let go of his control and bravado, how beautiful it was when you saw him for who he was underneath all that pretense.
The once silent room was now filled with noise. The words of praise you yelled into Tommy’s ear as he thrusted up his hips to meet yours. The fanatical moans and curses spewing out from Tommys lips—most of which not English. The sound of your sodden bodies clashing together with the force of your passion and love for each other. You could sense that neither of you would be able to hold on for that much longer and as you looked down into Tommy’s eyes it was clear he felt the same. He was gone. Lost in the abandon of his submission. Though his eyes were staring into your face, he could not process anything except for the sensation of you and your glorious and greedy cunt that was swallowing his girth and overpowering his mind. Tommy knew better than to dare come without your permission and you could see the conflict in his eyes, knowing full well that he was in such a trance that he wouldn’t be able to speak coherently enough to ask.
You continued your assault on Tommy’s hips, bucking yours so harshly up and down on his that you both would be left bruised by tomorrow. Disentangling your fingers which had found a home in Tommy’s soft hair, you trailed them down to his neck, scratching the skin to warn him what was to come– not that he would really notice anyways. Pushing him back down on his back, you stretched your hands and brought your thumbs around to the front, massaging the muscles as you did. With your thumbs pressing against the carotid arteries just below his jaw, you steadily began to increase the pressure, keeping your eyes trained on his to help anchor him to the moment.
Tommys eyes were wide, his mouth open in disbelief and desperation. This was it. He could never last long when you finally took control over everything. His eyes rolled to the back of his head as he waited for you to grant him his release.
“Come.” That was all you said. All that you needed to say.
As soon as Tommy heard that sacred word fall gracefully from your moistened lips, he fell apart. You could feel his warmth pulsate into you, his cock twitching as he came with fierce desperation. You collapsed onto his chest as you continued to gently ride him to your own undoing, making sure he knew that you were still with him as he floated through his trance. As you came once again, you felt euphoric in every description, your core quivering around Tommy while he was still seeping within you. You could hear him crying now, finally finding the delivery from all his burdens and stresses—which were many. Your hands tried their best to soothe Tommy, rubbing up and down his back to bring him back down to earth. You stayed on top of him like that for a while, keeping him warm until his cries subsided and he started becoming cognizant again. When his blue eyes met yours the faintest hint of a smile came over his lips.
“You feel good Tommy? You back with me yet?” You asked gently, smoothing his hair on the top of his head and kissing him. Tommy moved closer to you, placing his mouth on yours with a quiet blissed-out hum on his lips.
“So good,” was all he replied, not just yet able to come up with anything more to say. You pulled him out of your slowly, and winced as you heard him whimper at the loss of contact. Reaching over to the bedside table, you grabbed his cigarettes and lighter, placing one in his mouth to help him in the come down. The higher Tommy got just before his release, the more anxious he became afterward. As Tommy smoked the cigarette without ever removing it from his lips, you moved to clean off his body. Giving him a reassuring squeeze on his arm before jumping off the bed, you run as quick as you can to the bathroom to run some cold water over a cloth. Trailing the cold cloth across Tommy’s face and neck upon your return. Cooing at him with the most relaxing voice you can muster you praise him for this evening, telling him how much you loved him giving over to you, and how much you loved him. You were sure to wipe off the sweat that collected all along his chest, kissing it once cleaned before using the damp cloth on yourself.
Seeing he was finished with it, you stubbed out the spent cigarette and took Tommy’s lips carefully in your own. Murmuring into his mouth more words of praise.
“That was incredible Tommy. You’re incredible. I can’t even believe how lucky I’ve gotten by having you.” Yours hands find his hair once again as you curl his body around yours, “I’m not going anywhere Tommy, I’ll stay here like this for as long as it takes for you to come back to me. I love you Tommy Shelby. I am so happy that you’re mine.”
A/N I have had this in my google docs for damn near a YEAR and i never finished it and dont really know where i was gonna go with it and i feel bad for CONSTANTLY and CONSISTENTLY letting yall down by promising i will write something and then disappearing for an undisclosed amount of time. Anyways, its hardly anything but it will be enough to stop the nagging guilt ive been feeling re. this blog for a while so hopefully it aight with you guys!!!! pce n lov!!! -kat daddy
The irony of the situation was palpable. Everything in your room was in complete order yet your life was falling apart at the seams. You couldn’t remember when it began. The late nights. The not coming home. The expressionless smiles. It must have been gradual. It must have happened so slowly that you couldn’t even feel it. Arthur once told you that weird story about frogs— how they don’t realize they are being boiled alive if you just gradually increase the temperature of the water while they’re in it—you thought it was ridiculous when you first heard it. Arthur said that the frogs won’t jump out, they won’t do anything to stop it from happening, to stop being boiled alive. They just sit there complacent in their own demise.
But as you stood in front of him from across the room you could understand. You were the frog who didn’t even notice the end was coming despite all signs suggesting otherwise.
He couldn’t even look at you when he said it. Couldn’t bother to look into your eyes as he tore your life apart in front of you. Never have you ever thought him to be a coward, but now that’s all changed. Along with everything else.
“I’m sorry–”
“Don’t you dare. Don’t you dare tell me you’re sorry Thomas. Not if you don’t know what you’re apologizing for.” Despite the broken feeling in every bone in your body, your voice held its strength. So at least there was that.
“Y/N. Please, just–just let me explain.”
“Explain what Thomas?” you bit back, your tone stinging like venom, making him wince. “You fell in love with her, I don’t think I need that explained to me. Or do you want to explain to me how you could throw away 6 years, 6 frickin years for what? A fling? A barmaid you’ve known for a few months? Are you going to be able to explain to me what she can give you that I already haven’t? Can you explain that to me Thomas? Because if not then I just don’t care.”
“It’s Tommy,” he mumbled out, avoiding your gaze once more as he looked to the floor in shame.
“No it’s not. Not anymore it isn’t. My Tommy couldn’t do this to me, he wouldn’t be able to. Not after everything we’ve been through. Now I don’t even know who the fuck you are at this moment, but you’re not Tommy.”
“I didn’t mean for this to happen Y/N. I would never hurt you, I–”
“But you are hurting me Thomas! Right now, right this minute you are hurting me!” even with his eyes on the floor, you could see him wince again as your voice finally cracked, the tears desperate to spill any minute now. “You had it good you know, and you’ve shat on it. I hope it’s all worth it Thomas. I really do. There’s no coming back from this.”
A/N I have had this in my google docs for damn near a YEAR and i never finished it and dont really know where i was gonna go with it and i feel bad for CONSTANTLY and CONSISTENTLY letting yall down by promising i will write something and then disappearing for an undisclosed amount of time. Anyways, its hardly anything but it will be enough to stop the nagging guilt ive been feeling re. this blog for a while so hopefully it aight with you guys!!!! pce n lov!!! -kat daddy
The irony of the situation was palpable. Everything in your room was in complete order yet your life was falling apart at the seams. You couldn’t remember when it began. The late nights. The not coming home. The expressionless smiles. It must have been gradual. It must have happened so slowly that you couldn’t even feel it. Arthur once told you that weird story about frogs— how they don’t realize they are being boiled alive if you just gradually increase the temperature of the water while they’re in it—you thought it was ridiculous when you first heard it. Arthur said that the frogs won’t jump out, they won’t do anything to stop it from happening, to stop being boiled alive. They just sit there complacent in their own demise.
But as you stood in front of him from across the room you could understand. You were the frog who didn’t even notice the end was coming despite all signs suggesting otherwise.
He couldn’t even look at you when he said it. Couldn’t bother to look into your eyes as he tore your life apart in front of you. Never have you ever thought him to be a coward, but now that’s all changed. Along with everything else.
“I’m sorry–”
“Don’t you dare. Don’t you dare tell me you’re sorry Thomas. Not if you don’t know what you’re apologizing for.” Despite the broken feeling in every bone in your body, your voice held its strength. So at least there was that.
“Y/N. Please, just–just let me explain.”
“Explain what Thomas?” you bit back, your tone stinging like venom, making him wince. “You fell in love with her, I don’t think I need that explained to me. Or do you want to explain to me how you could throw away 6 years, 6 frickin years for what? A fling? A barmaid you’ve known for a few months? Are you going to be able to explain to me what she can give you that I already haven’t? Can you explain that to me Thomas? Because if not then I just don’t care.”
“It’s Tommy,” he mumbled out, avoiding your gaze once more as he looked to the floor in shame.
“No it’s not. Not anymore it isn’t. My Tommy couldn’t do this to me, he wouldn’t be able to. Not after everything we’ve been through. Now I don’t even know who the fuck you are at this moment, but you’re not Tommy.”
“I didn’t mean for this to happen Y/N. I would never hurt you, I–”
“But you are hurting me Thomas! Right now, right this minute you are hurting me!” even with his eyes on the floor, you could see him wince again as your voice finally cracked, the tears desperate to spill any minute now. “You had it good you know, and you’ve shat on it. I hope it’s all worth it Thomas. I really do. There’s no coming back from this.”
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.
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
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Warning(s): sexy times in the beginning (nothing major, but do tell me if I did alright), angsty attempt at breaking up and that’s pretty much it, though I do feel the need to give you a heads-up that Karl aka Ada’s little shit makes an appearance lmaoo
Word count: 1.8k
Author’s note: I’m so freaking nervous about this. I mean at first I wasn’t like going to do sexy times, but then I couldn’t picture a better surrounding for Tommy notto say ILY BACK LMFAOO I’M SO SORRY IF ITS BAD I TRIED MY BEST IDK HOW WRITERS CAN WRITE THAT
You wake up from a dreamless slumber disoriented and confused. The big bed is empty save for your body, lying naked under the covers. The sunlight seeps through the windows, greeting you without shame. Fighting the urge to groan, you sit up, holding the silky sheets close to your body as goosebumps seem to cover your skin once the cold air hits it.
Words didn’t even begin to explain his love for you. They couldn’t.
I found this whole piece truly beautiful. It wasn’t the lack of love that he denied her the three beautiful words she so desperately wanted to hear, for it was the lack of weight to the words to truly, honestly, and completely convey his feelings for her.
Truly, a job well done.
OHMYGOD !! It’s reviews like yours that make me want to continue writing! I thank you so so much for your kind words. I’m still very much insecure in my ability to portray deeper emotions through my writing so this feels like a dream. Thank you thank you so much!
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!
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.
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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
“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!
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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
Summary: Tommy hires you to sing at the Garrison and after growing fond of you and your performances, takes it upon himself to be your protector.
Word Count: 1,308
Warnings: Harassment, violence
It wouldn’t hurt the Garrison to have a little culture. That’s what Polly had told him, and that’s what led to hours of auditioning girls to sing at the Garrison a few nights a week. Tommy was keen on finding just the right girl to bring the aforementioned culture to their little pub. And as soon as you hit that first note, he knew that singer was going to be you. He let Arthur and John put in their opinions as well, but regardless what they’d said, Tommy had more than made up his mind. You were everything he was searching for. Beautiful and unobtainable in the way that lounge and pub singers often were, a starlet plucked from the crowd on her way towards her big break. And with the voice of an angel to boot.
“You’re hired,” Tommy said with a smile, a smile which only grew when you beamed one of your own right back at him. His brothers nodded in approval and you started with your first set at the Garrison that very night. It was a small crowd for your first performance. Tommy promised you a bigger audience the following night, when he’d had time to get the word around, but you were happy enough with the smaller, more intimate crowd for a warm up. You actually thought you could grow comfortable there.
As promised, however, the following night did bring in a much larger crowd for you to perform for. Though it was a bit more intimidating, you dazzled just as you had the night before, and during your initial audition. The applause was infectious, and you were finding more confidence in your voice and performance.
Before you knew it a month had gone by and your gig was less new and more familiar, but nonetheless thrilling. Every time you got on stage you felt like a new person, radiating an energy unlike any you’d ever had offstage. And it was always fueled by the familiar face of Thomas Shelby in the crowd. Sometimes he’d sit front and center, often when he was alone. Other times, he’d sit in the back with various other members of the Shelby clan. Either way, you knew the night would be a great one just for seeing his face as he listened to you sing.
This night, however, wasn’t quite as normal as the rest. You began your first number as always, soaking in the spotlight, and searching the room for Tommy’s face, spotting him towards the back this time, sitting with Arthur. A sense of relief washed over you as you continued your song. Eyes fixed on Tommy, you didn’t notice the man sitting in front, eyeing you up and down. A couple of songs later, and you were ready for your intermission.
You loved the reprieve, being able to rest your voice for a few minutes and have a drink before getting back to it. It made your job feel more like a fun night out, and it had all been courtesy of one Thomas Shelby. Typically, he came over and asked how you were doing, but tonight some other bloke had beat him to it.
“Evening, gorgeous,” the man flirted with you as he sidled up to the bar. You gave him a polite smile, but nothing more, having gotten used to your fair share of passes being made at you. He ordered you a drink you didn’t ask for and shimmied closer. You tried to put some distance between the two of you, but he kept pursuing you. “What’s wrong, pretty baby? I can treat you right if you give me the chance.”
He stunk of alcohol, and you didn’t trust him. You thought of taking yourself outside for a moment, claiming to need a breath of fresh air, but luckily for you, one had already come to you. Stepping right in between you and the nuisance of a man was Tommy. You hadn’t seen him since you walked off stage, but you were happy for the sight of him now. “You harassing a lady in my pub,” he asked, a thinly veiled threat woven into the tone of his words.
“No, Mr. Shelby,” the man replied confidently. “Just buying your chanteuse here a drink. It’s her that’s being frigid. She may have a pretty voice, but the bitch don’t know how to take it when a man pays her a compliment.”
You thought Tommy was going to throw him out or give him a speech about respecting women, but you weren’t expecting him to pull back his arm and meet the man’s face with his fist. The punch sounded like it cracked bone, and you felt your stomach lurch at the sound. You hadn’t realized just how strong of a man Tommy was until then.
Before the fight could escalate, you got a fair distance away from the action, not wanting to get yourself injured in the midst of everything. While your harasser was getting the worse end of the fight, he did manage to clock Tommy in the jaw once before Arthur stepped in and hauled the offender outside, essentially throwing him on his ass at the door. “And don’t you come back, eh,” you heard Arthur shout to him and he stumbled off.
Your heart was still beating hard in your chest as the Garrison’s door swung shut with that good for nothing on the other side of it. “You okay, Tom,” Arthur asked, as he came back towards the bar. Tommy held his fist in his other hand, indicating he’d injured it, but of course, his pride wouldn’t let him admit it, even to his brother.
“I’m alright, Arthur. Can you bring me and the girl a whiskey?” Arthur nodded and placed the order with the bartender as Tommy made his way over to you.
“Some fight,” you remarked, taking in the state of him. “You always jump to a woman’s defense like that?”
“Maybe not as often as I should,” Tommy replied, “but for you, always.”
You scrunched your face up, trying to figure him out. “Thomas Shelby, do you fancy me?” Arthur showed up just then with Tommy’s requested drinks, allowing him a moment to consider his answer. If Arthur had heard your question, he was wise enough not to insert himself into the conversation.
When he’d gone, Tommy took his gaze off his wounded hand long enough to meet your eyes and he felt compelled to be honest with you. “I suppose I do,” he confessed. “Ever since you started here, I felt protective of you. Guess now I’m learning why that is.” He paused for a moment, trying to read your expression. “I don’t expect anything,” he quickly added.
“Well I think you deserve a bit of gratitude at least. While I don’t normally encourage violence, I appreciate you setting him straight for me. I hate to think where it might have gone had you not stepped in when you did.”
At this Tommy smiled, only fleetingly as a wince of pain followed when he flexed his hand. “Are you sure you’re alright,” you questioned.
“Fine. Bruised, most likely. Nothing I haven’t dealt with before. Aunt Polly will see to it.”
“I could, if you’d be willing. I haven’t always made my living as a pub singer, you know?”
“Yeah? Alright. Let’s see what you’ve got.”
“Lets get you elsewhere first. The Garrison, while one of the nicer establishments in the area, is no place to tend to wounds.”
“I think our patrons might miss their favorite singer,” Tommy reasoned.
“Pretty sure my employer will understand,” you teased, getting up from the table. You held your hand out to him and he accepted it with his good hand.
“I hear he’s an understanding sort of man,” Tommy quipped back.
A/n: This took me forever to finish (b/c I forgot about it), but I love this idea. Tommy with animals and babies is always my weakness. And I love that a couple more of my requests involve Tommy and animals. I do have a few more headcanons I’m working on, I’m not sure when I’ll get those finished, but I’ll update the schedule when I get them in the queue.
“We should get a dog,” you asked one day, lounging on the sofa in his office while you waited for him to finish up with some paperwork.
Tommy grunted, too focused on what he was reading to register what you’d said.
You rolled your eyes, it would be ages before he’d be pulled away from his work. “Tommy,” you called. “Did you hear me?”
“Yes, love,” he grumbled.
“Then what did I say?”
He sighed, annoyed with all the talking. “I don’t know, I’m trying to get this finished up.”
“I said that we should get a dog,” you repeated, this time catching his full attention.
Tommy’s eyes shot up to you as he shook his head. “No.”
“No?”
“No dog. Not in my house, not now, not ever.”
“But why?” you whined. There was no reason not to get one.
He sighed. “Y/n, dogs are a lot of work and we just don’t have time for one.”
“But we can make time.”
Tommy didn’t crack and refused to even think about it, but you knew you’d be able to convince him.
You didn’t even bother being subtle about it.
Any chance you got, you’d mention a reason you should get a dog.
When you two would be walking around Arrow House, you’d say it would be something to protect you if you went without Tommy.
When Tommy would talk about going hunting you’d always bring up how he could get a hunting dog.
And you would never fail to mention that it would be great to have a dog around when he was on trips in London.
Tommy was annoyed with all the mention of a dog and did his best to avoid topics that could allow you to talk about it, but that never worked.
You always found a way.
And you’d managed to convince him to get one mainly because he was tired of hearing about it.
It was late when you slipped into his home office. You’d gone up to bed, hoping he would follow, but he hadn’t. So, you went in search of Tommy, knowing you’d find him in his usual spot.
And there he sat at his desk, nursing a glass of whiskey.
“Come to bed,” you said.
Glancing up at you, he nodded. “Once I’m finished with this. Go on, I’ll be up in a minute.”
“I’ll wait.” You took a seat on the sofa. There was silence for a few minutes before you said,” You know-”
“If you are about to mention a dog, I will sleep in here.”
Your shoulders fell at his words. “Oh, don’t act like a dog is the end of the world. Think about it, maybe the dog would love to sit in here with you. Wouldn’t that be nice?”
He didn’t answer, instead sipping on his whiskey, wishing he had locked the door.
“Oh, whatever,” you sighed dramaticly, irritated that he wouldn’t even respond. You knew it was a long shot to get him to agree, but you enjoyed the challenge. And being ignored took the fun out of it.
You ended up leaving Tommy in his office, going up to bed without him.
A little while later you felt the bed dip beside you as Tommy shuffled under the blankets. “We can get a dog,” he said, wrapping an arm around you. “If you really want one.”
You squealed, turning to face him. “Do you mean it?”
“Yes, I do.” There was no way he could take it back now, not with how happy you were about it.
Tommy still drug his feet about it.
He was open to the idea of getting a dog, but now he had begun to list off the various things that a dog could destroy.
They could destroy shoes
Eat socks
Chew on pens
List went on and on, but you didn’t care.
You would make sure the dog was well trained just so Tommy had nothing to complain about.
Eventually you were able to drag him away from the office to go look at dogs. You went to the pound, Tommy grumbling about how he could have just bought one and saved the time.
But once he saw all the dogs, he quickly quit his complaining, taking more interest in them than you.
“You poor thing,” he cooed to a small puppy. The puppy hesitantly crept forward, allowing Tommy to pet it. “Would you like to come home with us?”
Your heart melted as he picked up the puppy and continued talking to it. And he was very clear that this was the dog that would be coming home, so that was the dog you left with.
Though it was still a puppy, you knew it wouldn’t grow to be that big and you didn’t have the heart to mention that to Tommy. He probably thought the pup would grow to be some big guard dog.
Once that dog was brought home, you rarely got time alone with it. Tommy refused to call it his dog, it was always yours, but he always wanted it to be near.
If he was in his office, the dog would be on his lap or curled up on the sofa or hiding under his desk.
Any time he walked somewhere, the dog was right behind him and always chasing the birds on your walks.
And Tommy was the one to name it, too.
He liked the name Daisy since it was a girl.
You didn’t complain too much about Tommy stealing the dog. You wanted him to like the dog as much as you did.
And that meant it wouldn’t be too hard to convince him to get another. Especially if he took Daisy to work with him, leaving you all alone.
*~~*~~*
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Summary: After being told to rest by the doctor, Y/n worries about all the plants she bought. She’s afraid they’ll die, seeing as how she can’t take care of them. But Tommy eases her worries by planting them for her, which is something he never thought he’d agree to.
Thomas Shelby x Female!Reader
Word Count: 2.1k
Warnings: Fluff, Arranged Marriage Trope (warning for those who swoon over it), Tommy gardening (super shocking, I know)
A/n: This is another self indulgent fic. Like I didn’t need to write a second part, but I couldn’t stop thinking about Tommy gardening. And so I was bored and this just poured out of me. I also happened to think the relationship with his wife is cute cause he just doesn’t know what to do.
Y/n hummed, drumming her fingers along the edge of the banister impatiently. Tommy said he’d be right down, but for once he didn’t know how to tell time. It was still early morning and if he didn’t hurry up, it would soon be blazing outside. Floorboards creaked up stairs, Y/n’s eyes shooting to the top of the stairs as her lips spread into a smile.
“I’m ready,” Tommy announced, standing at the foot of the stairs. He wasn’t wearing a suit for once, which was a lovely change, instead wearing a thin button up shirt and tan trousers that had been lost in his closet.
His wife smiled, taking in his appearance. She liked the sight of him all dressed down, if only he dressed like that more often. “Wonderful. Are you sure you’re okay with getting those dirty?” she asked, pointing at his attire. He probably picked out clothes the moths hadn’t gotten too yet, but she still felt guilty about getting them dirty, even if he knew what he was volunteering to do.
Descending the stairs, he nodded. “I’m perfectly okay with it. Now, let’s go to the garden.”
Y/n squealed in delight and grasped Tommy’s hand, weaving their fingers together. The action sent sparks through his body. He never thought holding hands with his wife would be so… so exciting, but then again, most men did more with their wives than Tommy had with his. It would be slow going for them to get there, but he savored each touch, waiting for that time.
Leading him outside, Y/n stopped in front of a dug up flower bed. It looked empty and sad since all the weeds had been torn out. “This is where they will all go,” she told him. “And these are all the flowers I bought.” They walked over to a small table that held four trays of flowers. “Aren’t they pretty?”
“Oh, yeah,” Tommy nodded, he didn’t know the first thing about flowers, but he did know they were a beautiful sigt. “Did you need so many? Seems like you wiped the nursery out, eh?” he chuckled. He would certainly have his work cut out for him.
Y/n rolled her eyes with a smile. “I did not wipe them out, thank you very much. There were plenty left. And you can never have too many flowers.”
Tommy wasn’t going to argue with that. They made her happy and he was sure they would eventually make him happy as well. “Alright, go sit down and I’ll start with these,” he said, picking up a tray of orange and white flowers. “Someone should be bringing some water out shortly.”
Before taking a seat in one of the lawn chairs Tommy had placed in the shade for her, she kissed his cheek. “Thank you for doing this,” she whispered with a smile.
Tommy nodded, quickly turning away with the tray in hand as his cheeks burned. He hated how childish he felt around her. Every touch had his heart racing like he was some teenager crushing on a girl. He always tried to shake it off, but he couldn’t help how young he felt around her. She was nothing but warmth and happiness who was starting to melt his cold heart, leaving it to fall in love with her.
Setting the tray on the ground, he knelt in front of the flower bed, his hands quickly getting covered in dirt as he pulled the plants out. From her chair, Y/n would direct him to where she wanted them, asking his opinion when she was unsure. Tommy knew nothing of flowers or landscaping, so he didn’t feel like his answers held any weight, but Y/n seemed to like his way of thinking. When the first tray was empty and the flowers were placed where his wife wanted them, he wiped sweat off his forehead before reaching for the shovel. They should have started earlier in the day.
“Wait, wait,” Y/n called just when the tip of the shovel made contact with the dirt.
“What?” Tommy grunted, glancing over his shoulder at her.
She pursed her lips at his tone. “Take a step back.”
“Why?”
“Just do it.”
Reluctantly, he picked up the shovel and stepped back. “Now what?”
“I’m trying to teach you how to garden, Tommy, don’t give me that tone.” His face softened at her words. It wasn’t the ideal situation, but they had to work with it, so there was no use for any attitudes. “Just look at it. Are you happy with how it looks?”
He shrugged. “I suppose.”
“Well, that’s where they’ll be permanently, so you better be sure,” she said.
Tommy hummed, scratching his brow. Careful he picked up one of the plants, moving it over a tad bit. Straightening, he nodded, everything looked like it belonged. “Can I dig now?”
“Go ahead,” Y/n chuckled with an amused smile. He would probably never admit, no intimidating gangster would, but his wife could tell he was enjoying it about as much as he would allow himself to.
So he set to work digging small holes for the plants before placing them in them and covering their roots with dirt. Over and over, he repeated the action, hands black from the rich soil. He’d never gardened before, but it brought back memories of the few times Arthur and him tried to grow an apple tree in an old shoe. They weren’t successful, but their mother never stopped encouraging them. They would alway go tend to it, waiting for it to grow. They were both sour when it didn’t, but at least it kept them out of trouble.
Tommy was so immersed in his work that he failed to hear one of the maids approach, setting a tray with a pitcher of water and biscuits on the table with the rest of the flowers. Y/n thanked the girl and filled two glasses with water. Tommy had made sure they’d both gotten their share of water since the doctor visited. He didn’t want to give the doctor a reason to come back. Y/n was sure she’d be sick of water by the end of the week, more than happy when Tommy would be back at work and not depriving her of tea.
“Tommy,” she called and frowned when that didn’t capture his attention. “Oh, Mr. Shelby,” she sang loudly. This hit his ears, causing him to turn towards her. “Come drink some water.”
He stood, leaving brown streaks on his trousers as he wiped his hands off. Y/n couldn’t contain her smile as he approached. She quite liked the sight of him covered in dirt. Dare she say, it was attractive. “Thank you, love,” he said, gladly accepting the glass.
It was hotter than hell outside, nearing noon, and Tommy finished his glass, pouring himself another. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d actually drank plain water, but it tasted sweet on his tongue. Maybe he’d have to lay off some of the whiskey and throw some water into his diet.
“What are you staring at?” he questioned, glancing over at his wife, who’s eyes had been trained on him.
She shrugged. “Nothing,” she smirked before sipping on her water.
“Liar. Now, finish that glass up. There’s more in the pitcher for you.”
She huffed, drinking down what remained. There was no use arguing over it, Tommy would just stand in front of her like a mother hen until every last drop was gone. “There, it’s all gone. Are you happy now?”
“Very,” he said, setting his glass on the table and picked up another tray of flowers. This time it was full of pink and purple flowers, which he didn’t know the names of either. “Where do you want these?”
And so Tommy continued on with his work. He’d pick up a plant, holding it out for his wife to see as she’d think of a place to put it. He’d have to move it five or six times until she liked the placement and then she’d ask if he liked it. Tommy chose to agree with her each time she finally liked where it was placed, it would be more work if he didn’t. And once everything on the tray was sitting in the dirt, he’d get to work digging the holes and placing the flowers inside them before covering them in dirt. This same process continued until he was halfway through with the last tray. And by then he had decided maybe it was best to put a money limit on the flowers next time she went to get more.
“What about this one, love?” he asked, scanning the dirt for a spot. “Y/n?” He glanced over his shoulder as a soft smile spread across his lips. It seemed managing his work was rather exhausting as Y/n was fast asleep in her chair. She needed the rest, seeing as how she had not only dehydrated herself, but also exhausted herself from all the gardening she had been doing over the last week. Turning back to the flower bed, Tommy placed the flower between two others, a spot he’d been eyeing for sometime. He was sure Y/n would love how it turned out.
Once every last flower was planted, Tommy stood, brushing his hands off on his trousers and walked over to his wife. He drank the last of his water, glancing over at Y/n’s sleeping form. He may have been covered in dirt and hated the thought of ruining her new dress, but Tommy wasn’t about to leave her outside, not as the sun was encroaching on her shade. So, gently he picked her up, careful not to wake her, and carried her inside.
“Tommy,” she mumbled once they were inside, eyes barely open.
He smiled down at her, careful to watch his step on the stairs. “Yes, love?”
“What are you doing?” she asked.
“Taking you to your room,” he said softly as he neared her room. She nodded against his chest as they entered her room and he gently set her on the bed. Pulling the bedding over her, he smiled as she snuggled into the soft fabric. Tommy didn’t know what to say as she settled in and turned on his heels, ready to change out of his dirt stained clothes.
“Tommy,” she called him back, sleepy eyes watching his every move. “Where are you going?”
“I’m going to go take a shower,” he told her, his hand resting on the doorknob. And probably a nice nap. Being out in the sun was starting to get to him as exhaustion started to set in.
She hummed, stifling a yawn. “Oh, okay.” She didn’t seem pleased with his answer as she turned away from him, burying her head in the pillow.
With a sigh, he let go of the door and approached the bed. “Would you like me to stay?” he asked.
“Only if you want to,” she mumbled into her pillow.
“Tell you what, I’ll go take a shower and then I’ll come join you. How does that sound?” he offered, sitting on the edge of the bed.
Turning to look at him, she nodded. “That sounds good.”
With a smile, he leaned over her, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “Get some sleep, I’ll be back in a few minutes.”
Leaving her to sleep, Tommy took a quick shower, surprised by all the places dirt could hide, and ten minutes later was back in her room. Staring at the empty side of the bed, Tommy stood frozen. They’d never shared a bed before and the idea of sleeping next to her, while comforting, seemed too intimate considering how new the physical aspect of their relationship was. He sucked in a breath, eyes tracing her sleeping form, and crawled under the covers.
He stared at the ceiling, tracing the decorative wall paper as he tried to relax. He didn’t deserve it, her kindness, those sweet smiles she always flashed him. He didn’t deserve any of it, not when he’d done his best to push her away in the beginning. He most certainly didn’t deserve to share a bed with her. But he felt her move closer, an arm reaching out for him, and against his better judgement he pulled her flush against his side.
And as she snuggled into him, Tommy thought, maybe he could earn it. He could earn her love and affection, earn a place in her bed and her soft kisses. They may not have wanted to marry each other, but Tommy was starting to think he couldn’t do without her.
*~~*~~*
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Summary: Y/n is a new maid at Arrow House and can’t help but feel she isn’t doing what she was hired to. She was hired to make beds and dust, not run between Mr. and Mrs. Shelby, sitting with them, having tea, or helping them with paperwork. A conversation over dinner with one of the older maids helps bring her relationship with the couple into perspective.
Thomas Shelby x Female!Reader x Lizzie Stark
Word Count:2.5k
Warnings: Mention of sex, polyamory
A/n: I am so tempted to write a second part to this. I just love how this turned out and its leaving me wanting more. I wasn’t sure how to write this when I started, but I couldn’t contain myself when I was writing it. And I think, maybe, if I do write a second part that it might have a little smut. We’ll see I guess. Just let me what you guys think cause I’m loving this pairing and will definietly be writing more for it.
Arrow House was a bustling place below the surface with maids running around while the cook yelled at their assistant to bring them this and that. There was always someone climbing the stairs and stoking the fires, someone dusting the paintings and fixing the light fixtures. The work may not have been exciting, but there was never a dull moment in the house. And there was certainly never a dull moment for Y/n.
She was a new maid, only working for the Shelbys for a couple months, and nothing she seemed to be doing could be found in the job description. She may have been young, but she had worked at another large estate house before working for the Shelbys. Her family had been employed by that family for years until they sold their estate. Y/n learned how to properly make a bed and serve tea while working there alongside her mother, who would have thrown a fit if she’d done any of it wrong. Y/n was maybe a little naive in thinking that the work would be the same at Arrow House.
She wasn’t sure if it was worth complaining about, but she found herself making beds and dusting less and less as the other maids took over those jobs and more time attending to the needs of Mr. and Mrs. Shelby. She’d run from one side of the house to the other as each asked for her. They never needed much, Mrs. Shelby usually just wanted to talk to her, learn more about her and how she was doing in the house, Mr. Shelby wouldn’t say much, but he’d make her drink a cup of tea with him before having her put away paperwork while he worked in his home office. Y/n never thought too much of it, she was sure most families had maids who did such things for them, but she could feel the eyes off the other maids on her any time she’d leave Mr. Shelby’s office or the sitting room that Mrs. Shelby usually sat in.
“What is your problem, Annabel?” Y/n barked, taking a seat at the servants dining table. She’d just left Mr. Shelby in his room, where she helped him into his dinner attire. There was supposed to be a dinner party tonight, all Mrs. Shelby’s idea. Y/n knew that Mr. Shelby could dress himself, but she also knew that some men had valets that helped them dress. If all he needed help with was dressing for rare dinner parties, then there was no need for a valet. But that didn’t mean one of the maids couldn’t help him.
Annabel shrugged, pushing around the food in front of her. The cook was only good at making one meal fit for the servants, stew, but he sure liked to try his hand at other things. Those things usually went uneaten. “Nothing, I just think it’s weird how the Shelbys always call on you,” she said honestly. Annabel wasn’t much older than Y/n, but she’d been a maid for a long time at many different homes and had never seen a family take such interest in one of their maids.
“There’s nothing weird about it,” she shook her head before glancing down at the plate in front of her. “They like me, that’s all. What is this?” She pointed to the brown paste on her plate.
“Don’t know, don’t wanna,” one of the older maids, Cora, remarked. “And it is weird, you fool. Of course they’ll have a favorite maid, but not one they call on just to chat or drink tea with. No one wants to do that with their servants just to be friendly.”
Y/n raised a brow, pushing her plate away from her. They would just have to eat some of the leftover tea biscuits . “I don’t understand. I’ve never done anything to make them do that and I don’t really like having to run from one to the other, if I’m to be honest.”
Cora smirked. “They probably like it.”
“What is that supposed to mean?” she demanded, knowing the statement meant something entirely to Cora as Annabel was equally confused.
The older woman shrugged, happy to have everyone’s attention. “Well, I don’t know about the Shelbys, but some couples like having a toy to play with. Oh, don’t act dumb, Y/n,” Cora rolled her eyes. “They are like cats and you’re the poor mouse they toss around. You should be lucky all you have to do is keep them company. There are some couples that want more than that.”
“What do you mean? What more could they want?”
“I can see why they like you,” Cora sighed. “You innocent little thing, I kinda feel bad for them. They probably don’t want to ruin you.”
“Cora!” Y/n whined, wishing she would just get to the point.
The woman waved her off. “Okay, okay. They just want sex, Y/n. That’s generally what they want. I doubt Mr. and Mrs. Shelby are any different, but you are. You’re naive and innocent.”
She nodded, leaning against the back of her chair. Though she was still a little confused, it made sense. She never understood why the two always wanted to see her. She’d never done anything to outshine the other maids. She was nothing special, always doing her work and keeping quiet, yet they still seemed to notice her. “What do I do?”
“Nothing, just be grateful you have a job,” Annabel told her.
“Oh, Annabel, shut up. You should be grateful you have a job, but you might be able to get more out of them since they like you so much,” Cora suggested.
Y/n frowned, she understood what Cora was saying, but the idea of using her employers made her feel guilty. They were kind to her, much kinder than her last employers. They treated her as an equal and made her feel wanted, which was more than she could say of the downstairs company. With how Cora explained it, it seemed like they were using her and it would only be fair to do the same, but Y/n wasn’t sure she could bring herself to do that. The more time she spent with them, the more she began to care for them. She used to fear any time they’d call for her, afraid they’d chew her up and spit her out, but now she carved being in their presences and missed them more than she should have when they’d leave for trips.
“You should talk to them. Even if you won’t ask them for anything, you could still figure out where you stand,” Cora said, giving her a reassuring smile upon seeing the conflict in her eyes. “Now, someone get the biscuits. I’m not eating this shit.”
*~~*~~*
Y/n popped her head into Mr. Shelby’s office as the door was left ajar. Mrs. Shelby sat on the sofa and Mr. Shelby was out in the hall talking with one of their guests as he saw the man out. Y/n cleared her throat to capture the woman’s attentioned. “You wanted to see me, Mrs. Shelby.”
“You are allowed to call me Lizzie, you know that,” she said with an amused smile. She seemed to have this conversation with the girl each time she called on her.
“Um, I know,” she said shyly, shuffling further into the room. “But I don’t think it would be right if I did.”
Lizzie raised a brow, she had never had a problem with it before when she would insist upon it. “Why is that?”
Y/n shrugged. “I’m just a maid. And it doesn’t seem fair when the others can’t.”
Shaking her head, her employer couldn’t help but chuckle. “Oh, sweets, you’re more than a maid to me and that’s why they can’t. They’re not you.”
“What do you mean?” she asked, replaying Cora’s words over and over. She was glad at least someone was willing to lay it all out for her.
Before Lizzie could respond, the door creaked open as Tommy stepped into the room. “Bates is finally gone, never thought the man would leave,” he groaned, going over to the liquor cabinet. “What’s going on in here?” he asked, looking between the two women.
“I asked Y/n to come join us for a drink, do you have a problem with that?” she asked her husband, who had just opened a new bottle of whiskey.
He shrugged, grabbing three glasses. “Not at all.”
“Good,” Lizzie smiled. “Y/n, please sit, relax a little. I think there is something we all need to discuss,” she said, patting the cushion next to her.
Y/n hesitated for a moment, but took a seat anyway. She knew they wouldn’t be mad if she chose not to, if she chose to go back to her room, but she didn’t like the idea of disappointing them. And she was curious to find out what it was Lizzie wanted to talk about.
With two full glasses, Tommy rounded the sofa, handing one to Lizzie before handing the other to Y/n. She stared at it for a moment, she’d never drank whiskey before. No one in her family drank and she’d never been one to visit pubs. “It will burn a bit,” he admitted, running a finger along her jawline before tilting her head up. “Just try a sip, sweetheart.”
She nodded, taking a small sip as she felt his eyes on her. It tasted different, new on her tongue before it slid smoothly down her throat, leaving it burning and wanting more.
Satisfied, Tommy fetched his own glass and fell into an armchair beside them. “That wasn’t so bad, was it?”
“No,” Y/n shook her head.
“Lizzie,” Tommy turned his attention to his wife. “What was it you wanted to talk about?”
She smiled, glad they could finally get to business. “I think it’s time we stopped toying with poor Y/n. She looks absolutely exhausted from being at our beck and call.”
Y/n sucked in a breath, staring at the amber liquid in her glass. She was going to be fired, that’s what this was about. They were tired of her already and why would they keep her on as a maid after that? Like Cora said, she was innocent and maybe that was off putting to them, making her too much work if they wanted anything else from her. It was almost laughable considering most people liked her innocence. She wasn’t one anyone ever worried about because of it.
“Oh,” Tommy drawled. “Just have her go back to cleaning then?” He didn’t sound too pleased about it as he shook his head. Y/n couldn’t help but glance between the two. She hoped his tone didn’t mean he wanted her sacked.
His wife shook her head, brown curls bouncing about. “No, no. That’s not what I was getting at. I think it might be better for all of us if we are honest about our relationship,” she suggested.
He nodded, taking a sip of his whiskey. “Go on then.”
Lizzie turned to Y/n, setting her glass on the small coffee table in front of them. “Listen, Y/n, I know this has all been really confusing for you and what you’ve been doing for us isn’t what you were hired for. I think it might be time to establish what is going on here.”
“And what is that?” she asked, more confused than ever.
“Oh, she’s adorable,” Tommy chuckled, catching her attention. Y/n frowned, knowing he was poking fun at her innocence. “You know we both are attracted to you. Even a nun could see that. Why do you think Lizzie has you drink tea with her and sits a little too close? Or why I ask you to help dress me for dinners when you know I can manage just fine on my own? We like you close, so we ask you to do this or that for us. Anything that we think you’d be comfortable doing.”
She swallowed the lump that had formed in her throat as she felt their eyes on her. “O-okay. Um, why are you telling me this now?” she asked, gripping her glass tighter.
He shrugged with a grin. “Because we know you feel the same.”
Y/n felt her cheeks heat up at his words, wishing she could flee the room. “I-”
“It’s alright, sweetheart, nothing to be ashamed of,” he told her. “We could make this work if you want. But only if you want.”
She nodded, biting the inside of her cheek. She wasn’t sure what exactly he was proposing, but she wanted to accept. She really didn’t care what they were asking of her, she would do anything they asked. If they asked her to jump, she was sure she’d ask how high. “I, um, don’t know. I’ve never done anything, anything at all like this. It would… I’m not experienced and I don’t want to be a disappointment. I-”
“Hey, hey, enough of that,” Lizzie interrupted, fearing she’d continue on with her ramble if no one stopped her. “That doesn’t matter, not right now. We can teach you anything you want to know and we can go at your pace. We don’t want to do anything you’re uncomfortable with, okay?” she asked with a reassuring smile.
“Yeah, yeah,” Y/n nodded with a small smile. “But-”
“Come here,” Tommy cooed, setting his glass down. Hesitantly, she placed her glass on the coffee table and came to stand in front of him. “No more of that,” he said soothingly, pulling her on to his lap. “If you don’t want this, that’s fine. We won’t be mad,” he said as she snuggled into his chest. It felt right to be so close to him, soaking in his warmth. “We will go at your pace, you know that, right? We care about you and we won’t do anything to hurt you.”
“Okay,” she mumbled.
Lizzie stood with a smile. “We can talk about this more in the morning,” she said, caressing Y/n’s cheek. “But now we should get you to bed, you look tired.”
She nodded, holding back a yawn. She had been up since the early house of the morning polishing all the silver before tending to other chores.
Lizzie helped her to her feet. “There’s a nice warm bed upstairs calling your name,” she smiled, wrapping an arm around Y/n’s waist.
“But I sleep downstairs.”
“Not anymore,” she whispered. “We can talk about that all tomorrow. I’ll be right back, Tommy.” He nodded as the two walked out of the room.
The pair ended up in one of the guest bedrooms. It was twice the size of Y/n’s room downstairs and much nicer. To her, it was like a room at Buckingham Place, but it was just an ordinary room to Lizzie. When Y/n was tucked under the covers, eyes drowsy, Lizzie gave her a smile before kissing her forehead. “In the morning, come eat breakfast with us. We can talk this all over then, okay?”
Y/n nodded, mumbling, “M’kay.”
“Goodnight, sweets.”
*~~*~~*
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Summary: Tommy slowly begins to develop feelings for his wife, but does his best to keep it to himself. Then she goes and faints while gardening, leaving him to learn something new about her. And he may just have to take up the task of gardening while she rests.
Thomas Shelby x Female!Reader
Word Count:2k
Warnings: Arranged marriage (gotta warn those who swoon over that) fluff
A/n: Okay, this is super self indulgent, like I’ve been thinking about this for a couple days now and I knew I had to write it. And I’m liking the whole arranged marriage trope more and more. So this has just hit every mark for me and it makes me so happy. I’m so tempted to write a second part about Tommy actually gardening. Idk why, but I think it would just be hot seeing him covered in dirt, planting flowers. Like I want that! And I’m sure I’m not the only on.
“Y/n,” Tommy called as he walked out into the garden. It was early morning, but as it was summer, the morning air was starting to warm up, making it a perfect time to enjoy the outdoors. Rounding a hedge, a small smile crept across his face when his eyes landed on his wife, kneeling in the tug up soil with a lily in her hand. “How’s the garden going?”
She turned to him, flashing him a sweet smile. He loved that smile, but he would never admit it. “Good. I’m going to pick some more plants up today, if that’s okay?”
He nodded and stuffed his hands in his trouser pockets. “You know you don’t need to ask me that, love. My money is your money.”
Their marriage wasn’t the most conventional one, seeing as how it was arranged to create an alliance between Y/n’s family and the Peaky Blinders. It was better than expected, though. Tommy and Y/n managed to get along, mainly because Y/n didn’t seem to have a mean bone in her body. She had been hesitant to trust him at first, but she was kind, always giving him a smile here and there. And they usually kept to themselves, at least Tommy made a point to in the beginning. He had a hard time with that after a while as he was always curious as to what she was getting up to. But Y/n was never bored, that he learned. If she wasn’t reading in the library, she was annoying the cook by baking in the kitchen, or trying to garden alongside the gardener. The only reason she was planting flowers was because the gardener had kicked her out of the greenhouse.
And as much as Tommy didn’t want to care about his wife, as much as he wanted it to just be a business arrangement, he could help but love seeing her doing the things she loved.
“Yeah, I know. Um, are you gonna be home for dinner?” she asked sheepishly, seeing he was dressed in a suit with one of his caps pulled lower over his forehead, ready to head to the office.
Tommy shook his head. “I don’t think so.”
“Tell Francis. That new cook gives her hell anytime he makes food for the both of us and I end up being the only one at diner.”
“I’ll let her know. Well, I gotta go,” he said, glancing down at his watch. “I’ll be home tonight.”
“Have a good day,’ she smiled before turning back to the plant in her hand.
Tommy turned on his heels, wishing he could kiss her goodby, but he’d never done that before. He hadn’t done anything with her, except kiss her on their wedding day months ago. They both slept in different rooms, drawing a clear line where their relationship stood. Tommy wished that line could be drawn in the sand and washed away. Glancing back at her form, he wished he hadn’t been so cold in the beginning because now all he wanted was her. A thought that he wished he could shake from his mind.
She would be the death of him, he was sure of it, as he hated leaving her each day.
*~~*~~*
A few hours later, in the afternoon, Tommy heard the phone ring out at Lizzie’s desk as he looked over one of the books. Polly swore the new employees were useless but Tommy wasn’t finding any of the mistakes she swore would be in there. If they kept up with the good work, Tommy would probably be able to leave on time for the first time in forever. His concentration was broken when the phone on his desk began to ring. He groaned before picking it up. “Hello,” he nearly barked with irritation.
“Mr. Shelby.” It was Francis and she sounded serious. He’d told her he wouldn’t be home for dinner, so there should have been no reason for the cook to bother her about it.
“Is something wrong, Francis?” He drummed the fingers of his free hand against his desk. With the large staff he had at the house, he was sure there was a number of things that could go wrong.
“Yes, it’s Mrs. Shelby, sir,” she said as Tommy sucked in a sharp breath. “She fainted out in the garden. She said not to worry you with it, but she looks clammy and probably should see a doctor, but she refuses to let me call one.”
Releasing a shaky breath, he swore under his breath. He should have brought her out some water or something. There was no shade where she had been working and if he wasn’t home, there probably wasn’t anyone who would try to get her to come in out of the heat.
“Mr. Shelby?”
“Um, I’ll be right there, Francis. Make her drink some water and I’ll talk to her about seeing a doctor,” he rushed, standing to fix the papers on his desk. When Francis agreed to the request, he hung up the phone, shoved a few papers under his arm before grabbing his coat off the rack.
“Where are you going?” Lizzie asked, startled, as he burst out of his office, fingers ceased on the typewriter in front of her as she stared up at him.
“Home. Tell Polly she’s in charge and the books have been looked over. They’re on my desk if she wants them,” he informed her, quickly descending the stairs before she could even get in a word.
*~~*~~*
Tommy arrived home in record time, aggressively navigating the streets. He didn’t want to know how many accidents he’d caused on the way home, but he was sure there were a couple. Jumping out of the car, quick strides carried him to the house as the door quickly opened, Francis appearing behind it.
“She’s in your office,” she said, shutting the door before leading the way.
He raised a brow, leaving his papers on a table in the hall. “Why isn’t she in bed?”
“It was closer, sir,” the maid shrugged and opened the door to his large office.
Y/n sat on the sofa with a cup of what he hoped was water in her hands. She glanced over at them, giving him a weak smile. “Thank you, Francis,” he said and turned to his wife once she’d left.
“I thought you weren’t going to be home until late,” she said when he fully entered the room, shutting the door behind him. Tommy didn’t respond, instead coming to stand in front of her. He rested the palm of his hand against her cheek, looking her over with concerned eyes.
He let out a sigh. “You know why I’m here, love. Wanna tell me what happened and why you didn’t want Francis to call me.”
She whined, falling back against the cushions. It was clear she thought the incident wouldn’t have to be mentioned to him if it weren’t for Francis. Tommy plucked the cup out of her hands, which happened to be full of tea, and placed it on the small coffee table beside the sofa. He walked over to his desk and leaned against it, eyes trained on her.
“Oh, don’t look at me like that,” she complained with a pout.
He folded his arms over his chest. “Then don’t act like a child. Now, spill it.”
“Nothing really happened. I was planting the new flowers I got. I stood to grab another tray and I fainted. That’s all there is to it.”
Tommy shook his head. “Then why wasn’t I supposed to know?”
Y/n groaned. “Oh, don’t act like I wasn’t going to tell you eventually. I… I just didn’t want to bother you at work,” she confessed. “You have more important things to deal with than this.”
“Excuse me,” he stared at her, eyes wide. “My wife collapsing in the heat is important. Don’t you ever go thinking my work is more important than you.” She nodded, eyes trained on the persian rug beneath her. “Now, I’m going to call a doctor.”
“No, no,” she waved him off, eyes darting up to meet his, and pushed herself off the soft cushions. She didn’t get very far before her legs started to shake.
“Hey.” Tommy rushed to her side and helped her back onto the sofa. “Just sit, would you?”
She huffed, glaring up at him. “I’m fine, Tommy. Really.”
But her husband wasn’t convinced as he shook his head. “No, you’re not. And even if you are, I would feel much better if a doctor was the one saying that.”
“Well, I don’t want to see a doctor,” she said firmly, folding her arms across her chest. “It would be a waste of money.”
Tommy clicked his tongue, looking her in the eye. A thought crossed his mind as he took in her posture. “Are… Are you afraid of doctors?”
Y/n looked at him with wide eyes before they sheepishly fell to the ground. “I wouldn’t say ‘afraid.’ I just don’t like them,” she whispered, hands falling into her lap.
Pushing himself off his desk, Tommy came over to her. Falling onto the sofa beside her, he grabbed one of her hands, giving it a squeeze. “You know you could have just said that,” he said, eyes trained on her face.
“But it’s silly.”
“It’s not silly to me, love,” he said softly. “Come here.” He gently pulled her into his lap. He’d never held her before, but it felt right as she rested her head against his shoulder. “Would it make you feel better if I stayed in the room?”
She hummed, before saying, “You won’t be lurking in the corner, will you?”
He chuckled, kissing her forehead. “Only if you want me to.”
“Okay,” she finally said, snuggling closer.
*~~*~~*
A little while later Tommy called the doctor, who had told him exactly what he expected, that she hadn’t been drinking enough water and had spent too much time in the heat. Y/n may have been right, it wasn’t worth the money, but he knew she would be more willing to listen to him if a doctor agreed. Once the doctor had left, Tommy handed her a warm cup of tea that Francis had brought in. Y/n happily accepted it, sipping on the warm liquid.
“Does this mean I can’t finish planting the rest of the flowers?” she asked, looking up at her husband who was sitting at his desk.
He nodded, a glass of whiskey in one hand and a cigarette in the other. “Yes, it does.”
Y/n frowned, staring at the leaves in her tea. “But they need to be planted!” she complained.
“Not by you,” Tommy pointed out. “You heard the doctor, you are to rest and drink lots of water. There will be no gardening for you.”
“Tommy!” she whined with pleading eyes, but he held his ground. “Oh, you’re just out to kill my flowers,” she mumbled.
He rolled his eyes. “No, I’m not. You won’t be planting them, I will.”
Y/n raised a brow, taking a sip of her tea. “You don’t garden.”
“It doesn’t look hard,” he said with a shrug, but he was sure he’d be proven wrong. “You can sit in a chair, in the shade-” He emphasized the last bit. “-and watch, while I plant them. You can tell me exactly how you want it done and all that, but you will keep your arse in that chair and be drinking water.”
She wasn’t too happy about that, but nodded. It would be interesting to see Tommy gardening, she’d need to get a picture of it. “Okay, okay, Mr. Shelby. Have it your way.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Shelby. And I will be working from home the rest of the week,” he stated with a small smile.
Y/n chuckled, “Don’t tell me it’s to make sure I follow doctor’s orders.”
Tommy shrugged with a smile. He was sure Y/n would be a pain in the arse the rest of the week, but he wouldn’t trade it for the world. It was about time he spent some quality time with his wife. He may be able to give her any material item she wanted, but she deserved better than that. And he would make sure she knew that. That was, of course, if he survived gardening.
*~~*~~*~~*
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Requests: hiii, i’ve got a request. reader dating thomas shelby and she’s so much younger than him and she always feels a bit insecure and jealous when tommy is talking with these older women who are closer to his age (like maybe tommy is taking her to a party and tatiana is there) and tommy convinces her later after she told him what’s bothering her that he only wants her
can you write about the scene where tatiana tried to rile up the reader like she did with grace the charity event scene s3ep2? minus the “does your wife know the sapphire has been cursed by the gypsy”
Requested by Anonymous & Anonymous
Thomas Shelby x Female!Reader
Word Count: 2.4k
Warnings: Alcohol, language, jealousy, lil angst, nice fluff ending
A/n: I’m a little pissed since the second request was sent to one of my mutuals. We were both equally upset about it, but nonetheless I still accepted it. But please don’t send a request to me that you’ve also sent to other writers unless they have turned it down. On a different note, this isn’t my best work. I was struggling to write it and I’m not a huge fan of the beginning, but I do like the ending. So, enjoy.
With a room filled with chatter, Y/n felt out of place. There she stood, near the corner, lips sealed tightly together as she watched the party around her. It wasn’t usual for her to be in the corner like a wallflower, but it seemed that was to be her place for the night. It wasn’t a horrible thing, she could drink her wine in peace and not have to make small talk. But it allowed her mind to graze over things in a different, unpleasant view.
From across the room, she spied her date, who like always, had abandoned her. Usually, Y/n didn’t mind as she knew Tommy was simply in business mode. He sought out potential business partners like predators sought out prey. She never gave it much thought and would usually find someone to talk to. Normally it was Polly who would also come along to such events. But at this certain party, Polly was nowhere to be found, something Y/n was sure had to do with Michael. Tommy hadn’t gone into detail, but Polly was beyond furious at the boy and seemed ready to kill when she’d gone home. A charity event wasn’t the place for an angry mother.
Tonight was much different than any normal event. Y/n stood alone while Tommy stood around a group of men, with a woman nearly hanging off his arm. Sucking in a breath, she tried not to think too much into it. Women loved Thomas Shelby, that was old news, and it appeared Tommy wasn’t giving her any thought. But that didn’t mean he hadn’t…
Brushing it off, Y/n stood straight, sipping on her wine. She had nothing to fear, not when Tommy was too focused on the conversation he was having with some factory owner, and certainly not when he hadn’t even cast an eye at the woman standing beside him. But then the woman’s lips moved, turning Tommy’s attention toward her and a faint smile painted his lips, causing Y/n choke on her wine.
Dear god, the woman had managed to get Thomas Shelby to smile, that was even a rare feat for his own girlfriend to even do.
A shaky breath escaped Y/n’s lips. There was no need to be jealous, he was just being polite, that’s what she told herself over and over again. There was no need to worry or think too much into it, but she found herself doing just that.
Y/n knew it was normal to be jealous sometimes or insecure, but she felt ashamed for such feelings when it came to Tommy. He wasn’t property, he wasn’t her’s, and she had no right to be territorial over him. But sometimes she couldn’t help it. And the jealousy that erupted anytime a woman approached him with hopeful eyes came from the insecurities that she buried deep inside.
Y/n and Tommy never discussed the age gap between them. Tommy believed there was nothing to discuss, but Y/n often felt otherwise. She was young, far too young for some when she mentioned who her boyfriend was. When people looked at Tommy, they saw a mature, older woman by his side, someone like Grace or Lizzie. A young woman, naive to many of the evils of the world, was not someone they placed next to a man like him.
Beliefs like those dug at her, making her wonder if she even deserved that position. She was young and less experienced in so many different ways than Tommy’s previous girlfriends. She didn’t have a tough exterior or ideas that could change the world. She wasn’t anything special and, to many people, she shouldn’t have caught Thomas Shelby’s eye.
Y/n wasn’t sure how much time had passed, but she had managed to drink four glasses of wine and stare daggers in the direction of her boyfriend. More and more of his attention was being given to the brunette by his side as her smile grew bigger and she couldn’t keep her hands off him. Who she wished to take down with her daggers, Y/n couldn’t tell, but both would be in the cross fires.
Before she could make up her mind, the burnette detached herself from Tommy, causing Y/n to brighten up. Finally the woman was leaving him to find some other man to seduce. Oh, but Y/n couldn’t get that lucky, could she? Not when the woman was walking straight towards her.
“Are you enjoying the party?” the woman asked in a Russian accent, coming to stand in front of her.
Swallowing, Y/n searched for an escape but there were none to be had. “Um… yes. Are you?”
The woman smiled upon hearing the hesitation in her answer. “Oh, yes. Your boyfriend is wonderful company.”
Biting the inside of her cheek, Y/n stared at the woman with wide eyes. She hadn’t expected her to be so up front about it. “Oh, yes, he is. May I ask who you are?” She wasn’t sure she wanted to know, but this woman seemed to know exactly who she was.
“Tatiana Petrovna. And it doesn’t seem to me like you’re wonderful company considering he practically fled as soon as he could get away.”
Tatiana was delighted to deliver the blow, Y/n could see it in her eyes, but did her best to avoid a reaction. Under her composed features, Y/n wasn’t sure if she wanted to slap the woman or applaud her for such forward words. “He’s a busy man, Tatiana, this is merely business to him.”
“I’m sure,” she hummed, turning her gaze toward the man in question. “I’m sure that’s what he’d like you to believe.”
“Excuse me?” Y/n asked, fingers tightening around her glass. If the woman kept it up, Y/n was sure the glass would end up in shards on the floor.
“Oh, you know how men are,” she said playfully, poking at any nerve she could find. “He probably makes everything seem like business, even when he’s fucking a whore. That’s all just business to him.”
She hummed, biting her tongue. Nothing good would come from making a scene. But maybe that’s what Tatiana wanted. Maybe she wanted to just get under Y/n’s skin in order to wiggle her way in between her and Tommy. Y/n couldn’t lie, this woman knew exactly what she was doing and Y/n feared that it would work. With her insecurities about their age gap and everyone’s expectations for Tommy’s love life, Y/n was already bottling up so much. This, whatever this was, might just be what would be enough to break the bottle.
“Don’t worry, though, I won’t fuck him if he asks. He’ll have to buy me a drink first.” Tatiana winked with a grin before walking away.
Y/n shook with anger as she sucked in a breath. Out of all the women she’d met, that one had to be the worst. Lizzie may have been jealous that Y/n was dating Tommy but she had never gone out of her way to say things such as that, and Y/n knew she had plenty of ammunition. Tatiana wasn’t a jealous woman after her man, that she could tell, she was a woman willing to play games to get what she wanted. She walked away like the world owed her something and she would trick it into giving it to her. That was a dangerous game, one Y/n didn’t want to play. Gulping the rest of her wine down, Y/n grabbed another off a platter as a waiter walked by, praying that Tommy would be ready to leave soon, fearing the woman would come back to torment her some more.
*~~*~~*
Tommy let out a tired sigh as soon as they reached the bedroom. It had been a long night and he was glad there was no reason for them to stay any longer than they had. He had also spied Y/n during the night with three different glasses of wine and had a feeling that she’d drank more than he’d seen. So, he decided it was best to go home before she drank too much and he’d have to carry her to the car. Undoing his tie, he glanced over at her sitting on the bed, struggling to undo her shoes. “Would you like some help with that, love?”
She shook her head, continuing to try and undo the strap. Eventually she got her shoes off and stood on shaky feet to go wash off her makeup.
“Y/n, sit down,” Tommy insisted, coming over to her side. All the wine she’d had was starting to get to her, making her eyelids heavy and her legs shaky. “I’ll get a washcloth.”
“No, no. I can do it,” she mumbled, not in the mood to talk to him. As much as she was glad to have left the party, that meant she would have to be alone with Tommy. After what Tatiana had said to her, she wasn’t so sure that was a good idea.
Shaking his head, he grabbed her elbow to help steady her. She’d fall on her face without his steady hand. “Let me help you then, I don’t want you to fall.” She didn’t argue as he led her to the bathroom or when he sat her on the toilet. Grabbing a washcloth, Tommy ran it under warm water before handing it to her. “Here.”
“Thank you,” she said, grabbing the cloth.
“Would you like a glass of water? It might make you feel better,” he suggested. “I’ll do it for you, love,” Tommy said gently, plucking the cloth from her hands when he saw her stare down at it without moving. She looked too tired to care who did it and he just wanted to get her to bed.
Gently, he ran the cloth over her face, making sure to get all of her makeup. When he was satisfied, he threw the rag in the sink and helped her to her feet. “Are you okay, Y/n?” It was a stupid question to ask taking into account she was clearly drunk. But behind the tired eyes and sluggish limbs, she looked sad, distant even.
She nodded, pushing past him, but didn’t get very far when he gently reached for her hand. “I’m fine, Tommy,” she insisted, slurring her words a bit.
Pulling her back to him, he shook his head. “No, you’re not. Please tell me what’s wrong,” he pleaded, caressing her cheek. “Please.”
Avoiding his gaze, Y/n fell into him, letting him wrap her in his safe embrace. “Can’t we just go to bed?” she asked, voice muffled by his shirt.
“Sleep won’t solve every problem. Could you just tell me what’s wrong? Then we can go to bed.”
Y/n sighed. She didn’t want to talk about it, she just wanted to go to bed and forget about the whole thing. It was silly, anyway. It was just some stupid comments that only held meaning to her. Tommy would shrug them off like he normally did and that would be the end of it. It wouldn’t be worth mentioning in the end. “Just leave it, Tom.”
“Tell me, I don’t care what it is, just tell me,” Tommy whispered, his breath tickling her ear.
“It’s silly,” she confessed, sounding like a child.
Tommy chuckled. “I don’t care if it’s silly. If it bothers you, I care about it.”
She huffed, giving in. “Sometimes I get a little self conscious about us- No, no,” she restarted, looking up and seeing her boyfriend’s hurt expression. “Oh, Tommy, no. I… oh, I don’t know how to say this. That woman, Tatiana, she said some nasty things to me at the party.” Every word was still fresh in her ears, playing over and over again at the mention of her name.
Tommy seemed to breathe a sigh of relief at the mention of the brunette. “Hey, don’t listen to her. She always tries to get a rise out of people,” he tried to assure her. Tatiana was a pain to deal with, he should have known that she would find her way over to Y/n.
“No.” She pushed herself away from him. “It’s not just what she said. It’s fucking everyone! Everyone thinks I’m too young for you, too immature, too this or too that! Just not good enough!” she yelled. Taking a deep breath, she turned away from him. “And I try to ignore it all like you do. I really do, but sometimes I can’t.” Tears pricked her eyes as she faced him and said, “Sometimes I believe what they say. I mean, how can I be good enough for you when I care too much about other people’s opinions.”
Taken back by her words, Tommy was frozen, eyes trained on her until a sob filled the bathroom and tears rolled down her cheeks. “Y/n, hey-” He approached her carefully, afraid of being shoved away once more. “-that’s okay. It’s okay. There’s nothing wrong with that,” he cooed, cupping her face and wiping the tears away with the pads of his thumb. “Look at me, baby. Look at me.”
Y/n flicked her eyes up to his, sniffling.
“I don’t care how old or young you are, do you hear me?” He paused, only continuing when she nodded. “I don’t care what anyone else has to say about our relationship. It’s ours not theirs, they can all fuck off. They can all fuck off because you are the only one I want, okay?”
“Okay,” she mumbled, leaning into his touch.
“And if anyone says anything like that to you again, you tell me. You don’t keep that to yourself, you tell me and I’ll take care of it.”
Y/n hummed before a yawn escaped her lips. “I’m sorry for not mentioning it.”
“Don’t be,” Tommy said. “You’ve told me and that’s all that matters now. We can get past this. And no more talking to Tatiana, eh?”
Y/n let out a small laugh. “Yeah, she’s bitch.”
That they could both agree on. “Alright, let’s get you to bed now,” Tommy said with a laugh. “Come on.” He shooed her into the bedroom. “I’m tired and you’re still drunk, so let’s go to bed.”
There was no way Y/n was going to disagree with that. She was exhausted both mentally and physically. At the next party Tommy tried to drag her to, she would make sure he didn’t leave her side. There was no way in hell she was going to get caught alone with Tatiana once again.
*~~*~~*
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The line of sheer light was narrow. Birds were singing a delicate serenade of love and war. Branches of lonely trees swayed back and forth in the rising wind. An uncommon silence ruled under the roof of the mansion. The world had stopped and the waves no longer screamed in agony.
(A/N: It’s been so long omg!! This is just a short lil imagine to get me back into writing, but it’s still rlly cute. If you enjoy, like and reblog pls! requests r always open. ily, ty <3)
——–
It was nearly Christmas. Two days until. Snow laid thick on the streets and still, more fell. As soon as she’d gotten home from the factory, she’d slipped out of her blouse and skirt and into one of Thomas’ night shirts. They provided her with the warmth that he hadn’t been for the past few weeks. Always off on business, coming home late and drunk, sleeping on the sofa downstairs and leaving her alone.
She’d crawled into bed, pulled the sheets over her body and lit the end of a cigarette. It was only four o'clock, but it was dark outside and so she used the match to light the lantern next to the bed. She lit the one on Tommy’s side too, she always did, hopeful that he’d come to bed when he got home.
She heard the door open and close, and wondered if maybe Ada or Polly had stopped by for a chat, or to drop in Christmas presents, surely Tommy couldn’t have been home so soon. But no one called out, both Ada and Polly would’ve called out.
Footsteps climbing the stairs, heavy footsteps, she knew Tommy’s footsteps. He was home early, he’d forgotten something, his hat, cigarettes, he wasn’t going to stay for long, he’d be gone in ten minutes and back for midnight with a bottle of white rum.
The door to the bedroom opened and she turned her body away from it, blowing the last of the smoke from the corner of her lips and then stubbing out the cigarette in the crystal ashtray on the sideboard.
Tommy took off his jacket and let it fall to the floor, undid his tie, the top button of his shirt, took off his shoes and tossed his hat onto the coat stand. He didn’t bother getting changed, he figured he’d do that later.
“You’re here to stay, I take it?” Y/N spoke up. She still hadn’t even looked in his general direction, was refusing to, he understood why. “First time in a long time.”
“Thought I’d come home early.” The passive tone to his voice only made her angrier, the fact that he clearly had no idea that she was upset, the fact that he didn’t even think that she would be upset, after he’d ignored her for weeks-
“To make up for the weeks you haven’t?” She spat. Thomas closed his eyes and sighed, he knew that she wouldn’t be willing to let it go easily, but he hadn’t the energy to argue with her, and he knew that she probably didn’t have it either.
“I figured, yes.” She didn’t say anything as she watched him light a cigarette, shake out the match, and then get into bed beside her. She instinctively moved closer, the warmth of his body feeling familiar and homely, but she caught herself and moved back towards her side.
The room was quiet for a few minutes, the only sounds coming from the crackling of the lamps and Tommy’s inhales and exhales of smoke. He stubbed out his cigarette and, before Y/N could protest, was reaching out for her and pulling her close to his body.
“Don’t touch me, Thomas. Don’t act like-” She was squirming to get away from his grasp like a child, she had to keep up the idea that she was angry even if she really wanted nothing more than for him to hold her close and kiss her because she had missed him.
“I’m not acting like anything, Y/N.” Thomas sighed into her shoulder and she had to close her eyes because she knew that she would give in to him. The man really could make her do whatever he wanted her to. “It’s fucking freezing, you’re fucking freezing. Let me do this, you can be mad in the morning.”
And she couldn’t resist. And so she did let him. She huffed and acted like she was angry, but when his arms found their place around her waist, hands settled on her stomach, when he buried his face in her neck and peppered kisses there, she couldn’t pretend.
So she settled back into him, he was warm and she was willing to forgive him because he was warm and because she needed that warmth to be able to get through the next day and the day after.
“I really am sorry, love. I’m so sorry. I just-” But she hushed him because she was content and didn’t want to remember that she was supposed to be annoyed with him.
“Don’t.” She smiled and turned around in his arms, reaching out to touch his face, let her fingers graze over new scratches and familiarise themselves with them, and then she kissed him. She kissed him slowly, letting the angst and the hurt melt away until all she could feel was Tommy. Not Thomas Shelby, not even Thomas, Tommy. Her Tommy.
made for display, part one. thomas shelby x reader
summary: a widely known performer seems to catch the attention of a gang leader who can’t seem to get her out of his head
warning/s: swearing, drinking, really bad writing because i don’t want to revise my old writing, smoking, harassment, and slight violence
slater’s note: this was originally a wattpad book of mine (just slightly edited) with an original character (kiera knightly as a faceclaim) but y’know, let me post it here
you love the way people stare at you even when they have no reason to. their eyes could simply be wandering the room and then land on you for no reason and just stick there.
you loved it because it gave you some form of power that no one could seem to place. the attention they fed you reflected off of you and gave you a glowing effect, attracting more eyes. it was a mentality really; no one could be you, no one could beat you, there was no like you.
however, the attention came to be a bit much when it came to certain men, especially men like harvey lucas. a man who made constant passes at you and when rejected; he made other equally indecent men make passes at you.
there was a constant growing of discomfort that would just form in the pit of your stomach each time he came into your vision. you just couldn’t avoid him no matter how hard you tried, he always found his way to you.
you made money by playing piano at the hudson; a large ballroom that was open every night, and had you play every saturday. you made good money but you also made good impressions on some of the men that would watch you, making it easy for harvey lucas to find someone to force on you.
you leaned against the copper bar rail with a glass of wine in hand as you observed the men and women that swung along to the music together.
a small smile of amusement formed on your face as you continued to watch until it was suddenly dropped when you saw the eager face of harvey from the corner of your eye; he was looking for someone.
he was looking for you.
you quickly adjusted yourself off the bar railing, setting down the glass half full of thick red wine before pushing yourself into the crowd of dancing people in hopes his eyes wouldn’t catch you.
you looked around frantically, looking for someone to hide behind or to just to talk to so you could drown out harvey who was soon to find you. it was always better with the company of another person, it always made it hard for the man to push on his abrasive words.
your eyes land on a man who, conveniently, was looking right at you. you almost smirk but he slowly diverts his eyes to somewhere else with a blank expression, almost thinking you wouldn’t notice him if he was subtle, but it was too late, he was already quick pray.
you glided across the slick polished wooden floors to the man who stood to the side with a glass of whiskey.
you smile when his eyes find their way back to you when you’re only five feet away. he seems unaffected, as if he expected you to come around eventually, like this was his plan the whole time, even as he had no idea who you were.
and you smiled to yourself knowing he was very well unaware that you had no intention in sleeping with him, but only to escape from the drooling men that chased after you.
“do you dance?”
maybe you liked him, chose him because he wasn’t drooling all over you, and of course that’s the way things go? you desire the ones who don’t desire you.
he nods slowly and always hesitantly, taking a sip of the drink in his hand, not offering you any verbal response. but you take that as an opening to drag him onto the dance floor as he wasn’t speaking; wasn’t protesting.
eyes seemed to land on the two of you, including the ones of harvey who was after you. you smiles to yourself as you can see the disappointment clouding his features from the corner of your eye.
thank god.
thomas shelby reluctantly places his hand on your hip as well as lacing his fingers with yours. he purses his lips while studying your features as your eyes dart around the room, as if your anxiety was turned to a high and he found that strange.
“these people, mr. shelby, they take great interest in you,” you mumble while studying other people and the way they look at you, no, the way they look at him.
“who are you?”
you finally look to him, finding his icy eyes that seem to stare into your soul. they make you lightly shiver, but you keep your composure, slightly smiling to hide the fear that started to creep into the back of your mind.
you were a fool to consider him as a dance partner so lightly.
his eyebrows were raised high, “how do you know who i am?”
“i don’t.”
he leaves your eyes, looking at the crowds of people who you were referring to, and he frowns at your incorrect observation.
“they’re all staring at you.”
thomas has never seen you a day of his life until now. it took him on edge on how well you seemed to know him for no reason, but it’s as if he forgets how notorious him and his brothers are.
“they’re staring at the both of you.”
you closed your eyes tightly at the voice, leaving tommy all the more confused. he formed his lips in a tight line glancing at the man who stood uncomfortably close to the two of you who continued to dance to the music.
“fuck off, eh? harvey,” you mumbled, your eyes wandering around the cream colored room.
“wouldn’t you like that, huh, y/n?”
thomas looks between the two of you, loosening his grip on you and you notices right away, your head flipping to him. you give him a desperate look that he sees a lot from woman.
you didn’t want him to leave you to another conversation with the man that continued to stand next to you in an awkward stance.
but thomas fully lets go of you, nodding to the man named “harvey”.
you bite the inside of your cheek as you watch the man smooth down the front of his nice three-piece suit while walking away, back to his scotch.
“you look nice.”
you scoff, marching back to the bar where your alcoholic drink also awaited.
maybe, you thought, maybe if i act like he’s not here, he’ll go away.
but he didn’t. he continued to talk about the hotel room he had up in the hudson and how he was ready to go up at anytime.
“harvey, you really have no idea how much i’d like to strangle you right now,” you mumbled, connecting the tip of your wine glass to your lips.
you glanced his way while you take in the thick liquid down your throat. he thinks while looking at his shoes before looking back up to you.
he comes in really close to where his lips are connected to your ear, “i’d prefer to be the one who strangles while fucking you senseless.”
you could feel your blood boiling to the point you couldn’t even think, so you smashed your wine glass over the top of his head.
