Necklaces and Potato Chips
Coriolanus Snow x Female reader (smut)
warnings/description: smut; oral (m and f receiving), kissing, Virgin!Coryo. Reader and Coryo are both 18 in this. Mentions of Coriolanus’ poverty, etc.
Word count: 3.4k
Coriolanus Snow was never much of a gentle man. He was poised and perfect. There was never any room to make mistakes around him, because even if he didn’t specifically point it out, he somehow always knew. And would relentlessly tease you for it.
You saw right through him though. His carefully crafted exterior, hiding underneath it a fragile ego that was nearly a decade in mending. After the war and the death of his father, the Snow family had nearly no money to their name. They lived up in their penthouse, worn and falling apart from the war.
Not even a pot to piss in.
You’d never told anyone that you’d overheard Dean Casca Highbottom speaking to Coriolanus in such a way, and seeing the fear in Coriolanus’ eyes. It clicked. It was all true. He wasn’t eating steak for breakfast. He didn’t have maids waiting on his hand and foot. Hell, you’d seen the way his outfit frayed at the edges from countless washings. He couldn’t afford a new one.
At first the revelation rocked you to the core. He’d kept up appearances so well… but for what? For high social standing? To avoid the gossip? Yes.
Your own family wasn’t filthy rich. Nothing like the Plinth family, who it seemed everyone but you despised. But your family was living comfortably in the Capitol, in a modest but neatly decorated apartment that made you feel secure.
You didn’t show you knew. You didn’t look at Coriolanus like he was anything less than. Why would you? You’d never understood the needless drama and gossip that surrounded the kids at the academy. It was unbearable at times. You had to be perfect 24/7 so your name was kept out of people’s mouths, and even then that wasn’t guaranteed to work. Sejanus Plinth was a great example. His family, originally from District 2, came over during the war when his father had sided with the Capitol and helped them subdue the other Districts. Traitor much? At least that’s what Sejanus had called him the few times you’d spoken with him. Been the only one to give the poor boy any attention. Coriolanus had as well, but you could tell from the look in his eyes he was less than happy about it.
Coriolanus had always been around. He was at nearly all your birthday parties throughout your childhood, until about when you turned thirteen. Then he just… stopped going. Maybe because he didn’t have a gift to bring. Not that you cared, but because apparently everyone else did even though it was none of their business.
You just let it go, glancing his way in the hall every now and then. Only sometimes he would look back.
Until your sixteenth birthday party. Suddenly he just… appeared. You were having it in the mess hall at the academy on a Saturday afternoon. You weren’t even sure how your mother and father had booked it, but you didn’t ask. You’d learned by now not to ask lots of questions.
But when you saw that blond head of curls bobbing through the crowd, you had several dozen questions that you needed answered lest you go insane. Why? Why after three years had he suddenly decided to show up?
You hoped that he’d at least be able to enjoy the food, maybe even sneak some home to his family. Maybe that could be arranged. You felt bad for them, but not in a babying way. Just a genuine person who felt bad for another’s misfortune that was no fault of their own.
You don’t pursue him. Didn’t make your way over to him. You didn’t want to scare him off. He’d come to you if and when he was ready.
And he had. He’d come up and given you a shy greeting, wishing you a happy birthday in a voice much too meek for the Coriolanus Snow.
He’d also left you with a little wrapped gift and the second he gave it to you, he practically bolted. Left the party and you didn’t seem him till the next Monday in clases.
You’d waited till you’d gotten home to open the gift, and inside of the carefully wrapped paper was a necklace. A beautiful sparkling necklace. You had no idea where he’d gotten it from, but it looked almost antique, a red shining…. No it couldn’t be. A red ruby? But you knew there was no way they could afford that. So you’d come to the conclusion that either he’d stolen it, or he’d gotten it from his grandmother, or kept it after his mother passed away. It made your heart clench.
You wore it every day since and everyone ooo’d and ahh’d over it, asking where you’d gotten it, but you never told. You weren’t sure if he’d wanted everyone to know. With the way he quickly scurried away after giving it to you, your guess was no, he didn’t.
He was at your seventeenth birthday party as well, though he hadn’t brought a gift that time and he only wished you a quick happy birthday before disappearing into the crowd of people. Weird. He was so weird.
The two of you spoke here and there until your eighteenth birthday. He’d turned eighteen just a few weeks to a month before you, and just like the last two years, he came to your party. It was a smaller party this time around. Your father and mother had insisted on going all out. You only turn eighteen once, but you’d refused. You didn’t want a bunch of people. Didn’t want to have to worry so hard about keeping up an appearance.
Coriolanus, once again kept his distance from you, even with the smaller group of people, but he stayed for the whole party. You’d always made it a point to let him come to you, when he was comfortable. Like trying to gain a feral animal's trust.
As the party began to subside and everyone began to leave, you tried to make your way over to the blue eyed boy. You’d just reached him when he was at the food table set up before he turned and walked away.
This time around the party had been at your family’s apartment, reason for the much smaller group of people. You furrowed your brows as you followed him down the dimly lit hallway. He paused outside of your bedroom door before walking in. What the fuck?
You followed him, listening outside the door after he’d closed it, ear pressed against the wood. Really you should have burst in there. Should have yelled at him and asked him just what the hell he was doing in your bedroom.
Until you heard a little sigh, a release of breath before the crunch of a chip, and then another. He must have stuffed some of the the refreshments into his pockets before scurrying off somewhere to eat them in peace. Your heart broke for him. Broke for the young boy you used to see sitting alone at lunch at the academy. Who only had superficial friends. Never anyone who truly liked him for who he was.
You stayed with your ear pressed against the door for a while, debating on what to do when you saw someone making their way down the dark hall. You couldn’t make it out but it looked like your father. Shit. If he saw Coriolanus in your room he’d flip out, totally get the wrong idea.
So, without much thought at all, you reached for the doorknob and shoved your way quickly into your room before closing the door behind you. You heaved a breath out, facing the door before you whipped around and faced the man that was, for some reason, in your room.
His blue eyes were wide, chip crumbs on his lips, a chip in his hand as he looked at you with the saddest eyes ever. Fuck, he’d been caught.
His mind began to reel. God, he could only imagine the gossip that would start from this. It would be all over for him. He’d die of embarrassment he was sure of it.
But you didn’t instantly run out to tell everyone how you’d found him. You stayed planted in front of him, looking him over. He wore an off white dress shirt and a little black vest that fit his chest snug. Had he always been this pretty? Had his eyes always been so blue?
He cleared his throat, stuffing the chip back into his pocket as he reached for the doorknob over your shoulder. He was trying to run. Just like he always did.
You grabbed his arm before he could reach the knob and you held his bicep with your hand, squeezing just tight enough so he knew you weren’t letting him leave. Not like that.
“I-“ He started, looking at you with a panicked expression. A dear in headlights if you will. It was, again, sad to see. He was always so put together and seeing him with the beginnings of tears in his ocean blue eyes made your expression soften.
Your free hand reached up to wipe the chip crumbs from the corners of his mouth but Coriolanus must have thought that you were going to slap him or something with the way he flinched. This poor boy…
“Coriolanus…” you said gently, cupping his cheek with your hand and leaving it there. He seemed to lean into your touch the slightest bit, closing his eyes as he let out a shaky sigh.
“Yeah?” He responded, blue eyes peering down at you. He was waiting for the ball to drop. For you to yell at him. To hit him and kick him.
“Why are you in my room?”
“I didn’t know it was your room- I’m sorry- I just… I wanted a few more chips before I left but I’d already eaten enough to almost be suspicious and I didn’t want anyone to see. I’m really sorry-'' hearing an apology from Coriolanus Snow’s mouth was a weird thing. It didn’t seem to belong there. He seemed so unapologetic.
“Coriolanus-“ you sighed, giving him a sympathetic look that had him shaking his head and pulling away from your touch, standing up to his full height.
“Don’t look at me like that,” He started, embarrassment covering his features as he turned away from you.
You followed him. He wasn’t getting out of this that easily. Hell no. Not after all the years of confusion he’d given you.
You placed a hand on his shoulder and he tensed once more, but for this time it seemed to be a different reason. The air around the two of you changed. Electrified. Currents of energy spun around you, danced in circles, growing stronger by the second. All this time. All these years. Had it all led up to this?
Coriolanus turned around, most likely to apologize again but you caught him by surprise, grabbing him by the front of his shirt and pulling him down to meet your lips.
It was just like you’d imagined it. Warm, soft, electric. He was stunned into shock for several seconds before he melted into it, closing his eyes and kissing back. There was a hunger behind his kisses, one that showed desperation. A need for this. He’d wanted this just as long as you’d have, if not longer. More pieces of the puzzle fit together at that moment. All those years.. All those parties. He was trying to get your attention but he didn’t know how. He was trying…
Your hands rested on his shoulders as you stood on your tippy toes to kiss him, your lips molding together. A need overtook you in that moment and as the kiss got more heated, your hands found their way to his belt that held his black slacks up, and you brushed your fingers against his bulge.
He pulled back with a shocked noise in the back of his throat, chest rising and falling heavily as he looked down at you.
“I’ve never-“ he started breathlessly as he watched you, almost warily.
Oh. He was a virgin… You weren’t. You’d lost your virginity to Festus Creed some time last year. It was very uneventful but you still had more experience than Coriolanus. Something about that made you clench your thighs together. You wanted to ruin him.
“Coriolanus…” you cooed, your hands coming to rest on the loops of his belt, but slowly, giving him time to pull away if he really did decide he didn’t want this.
“Let me? I can make you feel so good…” Your tone had dropped, and Coriolanus swore your eyes darkened as you stared at him.
He thought about it for several moments before he gave a sheepish nod. The last thing he wanted to do was embarrass himself, but he had been fantasizing about you for so long now…
“Yes…” He breathed. “Yes I want that..”
A few more seconds of silence before you two fell into even more bruising kisses. Despite how much taller he was compared to you, you were able to lead him to your bed very easily, pushing him back onto it before crawling over him.
Your hands were everywhere and Coriolanus was overwhelmed as he tossed his head back into the pillows. The pillows that smelled like you.
“I don’t want to go all the way…” he blurted out, cheeks flushed.
You looked up at him, giving him a gentle smile. “Of course. You let me know if I’m doing too much and we stop.” You said firmly so he understood.
Your hands came to his belt and slowly began to undo it before sliding it from the loops on his dress pants.
He sat up and helped you kick off his too tight, too small pants with a huff before he laid back, now only in his black boxers. He strained against them and your mouth watered a bit, not even having seen his cock yet.
“Going to use my mouth on you, pretty boy. Going to make this the best night of your life,” Your finger slid under his waistband and before he even knew it, you were pulling his underwear down his legs and his cock sprang free, slapping against his lower stomach.
For how frail he looked, he was packing. He was longer than he was thick, and the idea of him inside you made you a bit dizzy. But not tonight. He’d said he wasn’t ready for that. Not yet.
Carefully, you wrapped your hand around him, causing his eyes to go wide and his hips to buck up into the touch. He was nearly searing in your hand, drops of pre-cum leaking steadily from the tip.
He was in heaven, eyes closed, head tossed back, and when he felt you press a kiss to his tip, a tiny little whine left his parted lips.
“Shh my sweet thing, it’s okay, giving you all the love you need. You’ve got such a pretty cock,” you accentuated your words with a few more kisses to the tip, his pre-cum coating your lips before you licked it off.
Coriolanus moaned softly, eyes open as he looked down at you. He twitched in your hand, legs trembling beneath you as he waited for your next move.
Your lips wrapped around him and he waited for you to take him deeper in your mouth, but you stayed just at the tip, suckling gently on him. He was so fucking sensitive that it almost hurt from how good it felt.
“Fuck,” He cursed, and that’s how you knew he was loving this. In all your years, you’d never heard him curse.
You made sure to keep eye contact with him, letting your tongue roll over the tip, collecting the beads of liquid that fell.
Finally, after you really got him whining, you took him further into your mouth, breathing deeply through your nose and hollowing your cheeks as he arched his back up off the bed.
Your throat seized around him and you nearly gagged, having to pull back just a bit. Your throat was already scratchy from it and you could only imagine just how sore it would be tomorrow after deep-throating him. But that’s all it was. Imagining. Because without any warning he came down your throat with a choked groan, tummy tensing.
You swallowed his release with a slight grimace, easing him through his release before pulling off of him.
He had a light sheen of sweat covering his forehead and his eyes were closed. He looked like he was sleepy for several moments before he finally managed to peel his eyes open and look down at you with a fucked out expression, a lazy smile on his lips.
“Jesus…” he murmured, sitting up on his elbows to look at you. He looked you over, still completely clothed and an idea came to his mind.
“Can I do that to you too?” You wanted to tease him a bit. Suck your dick? No Coriolanus couldn’t do that because you didn’t have one. Silly. But you didn’t say that, you just nodded your head as you looked at him.
“If you want to, yeah. Of course sweetheart. Anything you want.”
Anything.
What a dangerous word.
In an instant he had you flipped and was pulling your little skirt down your legs right along with your panties. You crossed your legs shyly but Coriolanus wasn’t having that as he used his hands to part them, sliding in between them and getting comfortable.
“How do I…?” He asked, looking between your eyes and your dripping cunt.
You too one of his hands and brought it to your core. He gasped at the warmth and the wetness of it. You helped him run his fingers across your folds, dipping into you just a bit before pulling back.
Soon though he grew bored of that and dipped his head down, inches away from your core. He really was going to eat you out… you were surprised.
He surged forward that last little bit, his mouth connecting with your clit, sending a shockwave up you.
He closed his eyes, well, more like they rolled into the back of his head once he properly tasted you. And then he was off, lapping at your folds, getting really messy with it. He needed almost no guidance. It was like he was born to eat pussy.
“Fuck, Coriolanus- Coryo-“ He really seemed to like that with the way he moaned against your core, beginning to fuck you with his pretty pink tongue.
You already felt extremely close and you weren’t sure if it was because he was good at what he was doing, or if you’d just been needing this for so long that anything felt good.
“Oh fuck Coryo, I’m going to come if you keep that up- good boy, that’s it-“ You hissed out in pleasure, head thrown back. Your fingers carded into his hair and he let out a little whine as you tugged on his blond curls.
He felt the way your body tensed and he knew you were close. That did wonders to boost his ego, and he really doubled down on eating you out, tongue fucking you hard now, his nose brushing your clit.
You came hard on his tongue, practically grinding up against his face, and he let you, too pussy drunk to complain. Not that he ever would. He never realized how much he enjoyed this.
He kept at it until you were whining and pushing him away. He himself let out a little disgruntled whine, obviously upset that he had to stop, before you pulled him up to cuddle next to you.
The two of you were still half dressed, shaking and recovering from your releases.
Coryo watched you with a smile on his lips that were still coated in your slick.
“Jesus, coryo. Clean yourself off.” You shook your head with a laugh before you gasped when he surged toward and kissed you once more. You cupped his cheek and kissed back after a moment, grinning against him.
He pulled back for a moment and reached for your neck. You gave him a confused look before you saw him take your necklace chain in his hand, looking it over. The necklace. You’d almost forgotten. You’d worn it every single day since he’d gifted it to you.
“Stay here tonight?” You asked with a soft smile. You didn’t care what your parents said. You were an adult now, and hell, they didn’t even need to know that Coriolanus was here.
He gave a quizzical look before he seemed to realize you were being serious and then he nodded.
“I’d like that. A lot.”
And that was how you ended up on Coriolanus Snow’s arm. The only person who he truly trusted outside of his family.
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Toy Horses Outside the Brothel
You always knew Tommy as the cheerful boy who took care of you. He always knew you as the smart girl that he visited by the docks. The daughter of a prostitute, the son of a deadbeat father; a soldier who protected his country; a whore who protected him; a gangster who controlled Brimingham; and now, a wife. War changes people, you just didn't realize that war could change you both. (angst, depictions of abuse, poverty, prostitution, canon-typical themes, death, war, time jumps)
A/N: This is dedicated to @runnning-outof-time ! Thank you for giving me guidelines and for reading my work before anybody else did. You’re amazing and I wish I could write Tommy as good as you do.
Want to be tagged? navigation | main master lists | PROTECTION MASTERLIST
BIRMINGHAM, 1900:
Tommy first met her when his father took him to the docks. Arthur Shelby Sr. told impressionable young Tommy that there were kids he could play with by the docks. Tommy agreed, wanting to impress his father. On the way there, right outside of what looked like a house with many rooms, was her.
You were lonely and something in Tommy told him to play with you instead. Besides, the boys were too big around the docks. Arthur Shelby left him right outside the establishment and threw a shilling to you. You picked it up, stuffed it in your pocket, and looked at him.
He smiled at you widely, a tooth missing from his mouth and extended his hand towards you.
“I’m Tommy,” he said. You reciprocate the gesture, telling him your name and shaking his hand. You were more reserved, Tommy noticed. He was so used to the ruckus in their house that he expected every child to be as energetic as them. “Why did my father give you money?”
“He wants me to play with you while he’s inside,” you said. “I don’t have many toys but…I do have this,” you said, showing him your wooden horse toy. They were your prized possession, one of the few gifts that your father sent when he promised the world to your mother.
“Oh! I love horses,” he said. “Do you? I like watching horses,”
“Yes,” you replied. “My mother said that my father owned many. I’ve never met him though. Where do you watch horses?”
“That’s alright. Fathers hit kids. See?” he said, showing you a bruise on his side quickly. “My mother puts ice on it and it tickles. We watch it in the races. My mum takes me for my birthdays. She usednto ride a white horse before. She told me. Do you go to school?”
“No,” you shook your head. “But my mum taught me how to read and how to write. Sometimes, Big Johnny teaches me arithmetic. One plus one equals two,”
“You’re smart. Who’s Big Johnny?”
You hummed, making the wooden horse gallop on the murky ground. People in the house all told you that you were. If only poor Mary Magdalene had the means to send you to school. If only. You stop your movements and move your toy towards Tommy.
“Here,” you said. “Big Johnny is the man who runs this place. He’s kind,”
“You won’t have a toy,” he replied.
“It’s okay. I have more but they’re in my mama’s room. My father sent them. Sorry if it’s dirty,”
“Thanks,” he said. It’s the first time anyone has ever given him something without asking for it. He keeps it with him; keeps the memory of a girl who watched him intently while he played with a toy horse. That’s why when his father exited the house, with less money in his pocket, Tommy asked if he could come again next time.
-
When the house closed, you ran to your mother’s room. You usually had to stay out until five in the morning, sleeping on the sacks right in front of the brothel until your mother woke you up. She’s been seeing less men these days…always cooped up in her room, asking for you. She didn’t mind if you stained her bed with sweat and grease. She’d ask how your day was and you told him about Tommy, the boy you met earlier.
“I’m glad you have a friend,” she coughed into her white handkerchief. The blood stain was normal now. You were worried at first, but your mother told you to never tell anyone. You just never knew how serious it all was when you slipped once. You were talking to Big Johnny; he was teaching you how to subtract.
“If I help you, are you going to pay me?” you asked, perched on his lap. He had been the only father figure in your life. He’d help your mum surprise you for your birthdays and give you some money every now and then.
“Pay you? You’re robbing me,” he kids. “What do you need the money for?”
“I’m planning to buy mum a present. A nice handkerchief,” you said. “The one she has has blood—“
“What is it, bug?” he asked, eyebrows furrowing.
“Nothing,” you shrugged, smiling sickly sweet.
“You have to tell me,” he replied. “It’s your—your safety,”
It was your turn to look confused.
“But mum told me to never tell anyone,” you whispered, heart racing. What did he mean by it? “Why would I not be safe? I’m safe. I have mum with me,”
Big Johnny ran his hand through his hair, then his chin. You knew that it was a sign of his agitation, so you relented.
“You can’t tell anyone,” you whispered. “But mum has been coughing up blood for a while. She said it’s fine. You won’t take her from me right, Johnny?”
“Fuck, kid,” he sighed, stressed at the sudden turn out of events. “No more arithmetic today, okay? I’ll go talk to your mum. Just go outside or play or whatever,”
“Is everything okay?” you asked, panic rising in your throat. It constricts while you keep yourself from crying. “Mum will be so mad at me! Please don’t tell on me,”
“Do you know why she’s coughing up blood?” he asked, his voice serious. He knew that you had to be talked to in his “adult voice” for you to listen. You knew that he needed to be stern for you to listen.
“N-no…” your hair falls messily as you shake your head, picking on your nail beds.
“She’s sick, bug,” he said. “If we don’t do anything about it, you could get sick too. The two of you might die,” he explained. “Look, kid…you have a bright future ahead of you, alright?”
“What will you do?” you asked. “You can’t take her from me! Please, Johnny. My mum is all I have,” you cried, tears started flowing once the first one dropped.
Johnny couldn’t do anything else. He relented but locked your mother in her room. Whenever you went in, he made sure you had some face mask on to protect yourself. You only saw her for a few minutes every day. Parting her was painful and Johnny had to console you while you cried. He gave up his bunk and slept in his workspace so you won’t have to sleep with your mum.
A week later, your mum died of lung cancer.
It was too late, the doctor explained. Johnny let you stay in his bunk, never mind the fact that he had no space for himself now. He didn’t mind. You were his top priority. How is he going to raise a child in a brothel?
-
Your mother always told you that as long as you were with her, you would never be lonely. There was no burial, just her body being thrown and burned with the rest of Birmingham’s garbage. It made you wonder what your body would be like dead. You decided to never end up like her, one way or another you were getting out.
Tommy continued to visit you, but he knew that you were different now. It has only been a week and you’ve grown up so fast. When he arrived, a box of your toy horses was prepared for him.
“What’s this for?” he asked, eyes brightening up at the sight of the box. His father threw a shilling your way again.
“It’s for you. I don’t want to play anymore,” you said. “I kept one white horse for me but you can have them.”
“Why not?” he asked, galloping the toy you gave him last week. “Thank you. I don’t have my own. I always have to share with Arthur, John and Ada.”
“My mom died…you were my first friend and you never met her,” you said, tears falling on the ground. “I’ve been living in Big Johnny’s room,”
“I’m sorry for your loss,” he said. “My Aunt Pol says that friends are there for each other. I’m…I’m your friend,”
You smiled a teary smile, appreciating the underlying message behind his words. He’ll be there for you. But until when?
-
BIRMINGHAM, 1905
Fifteen, you were fifteen. You haven’t even turned fifteen for a week and you were working. The owner of the house told Big Johnny that if you wanted to keep living there, you would have to work too. Johnny had no place for himself, no house—his money all went to you. Your clothes, the books you’ve read, the food you ate. He'll get you a cake with a candle along with a pound for special occasions. If you were lucky, some of the girls would give you something. Tommy’s dad stopped coming and so was the shilling you got.
He stayed, though. He’d talk to you about school and how he wanted to leave.
“You’re lucky you’re in school,” you said, watching Tommy smoke a cigarette. You were never a fan if them, seeing as your mother died of fucking lung cancer. “You have to stay,”
“I’m not built for it though. They’re all so boring,” he said, blowing the smoke away. “If only I could work like you. Why are you dressed so nicely anyway?”
“The owner told me to work,” you shrugged, pulling the strap of your dress back on your shoulder. “Johnny asked the boss if I could help him with the girls and management, but he said no. Wanted me to work because it will bring more money in,” you bitterly replied. “I want to go to school but the fucking boss wanted me to present myself as a Cherry Girl. You wanna know what that is?”
“What?”
“A fucking virgin.” you shrugged. “Said many men will pay for someone like me. Today’s my first night and Johnny cried a little bit when he saw me. I’d kill and die to go to school, Tom.”
“Shit, love, I’m sorry. I was being insensitive,” he offered. “Hm, maybe you’ll bag one rich man you know? Some rich bloke from London and he’ll take you. Besides, at least you smell nice,”
“This shit is awful,” you countered, sighing. You blinked back the tears that threatened to spill. “Fuck, I said I wasn’t going to cry tonight.”
“Hey,” he said, sitting closer to you. He wraps your arm around you and lets you stay there. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I’ll stay in school and do well, okay? I’ll study so hard; I’ll take you out of here. Let you live in a mansion with lots of space to run in. Fuck, I’m sorry, love,”
“It’s not your fault, Tommy,” was your weak reply. “I’m just…I told myself that I would never be like my mother and now, I am,”
“You’re not her,” he whispered, tightening his arms around you.m, never mind if the grease and sweat of his clothes mixed with your perfume. “You’re not her.”
-
BIRMINGHAM, 1906
“Fuck, Tom. You can’t stay here while I’m working,” you scolded. You were lying, you appreciated the fact that Tommy was here. He’ll wait until you finish your shift, until you meet your quota. It was always quick, though. You had a rich patron that covered your every living expense.
“My patron’s coming,” you told him, and he tenses. He remembered the way you cried to him after your first ever shift last year. How some old fuck didn’t even bother. He finished and threw you some coins. He remembered his rage when you told him about this new guy. He’s quite scary but he pays the most, you said. “He doesn’t like seeing me with other men,”
“I’m a man now?” he quips, a smirk on his lips. “It’s not like I can afford it. I’m broke. Besides, I’ll act like a bodyguard, yeah? All I ask for payment is a day out with you. Aunt Poll is cooking something on Sunday. Want you to eat something that’s not whatever is being cooked here. We can go on a picnic. I met a girl who worked at this mansion, and they have lots of flowers in the garden. Shit you’ll like,”
You offered him a slight smile, nodding.
“Will your aunt be okay with…me eating your food?” you asked. Tommy took notice of how insecurity laced your voice. His suggestions of meeting his family have always been met with resistance. He understood. Although Polly has been insisting on meeting the girl he’s been spending his time with, he couldn’t risk his father recognising you and then, treating you like trash.
“Of course. She’s been more annoying. Told my mum about the girl I’m seeing,” he said. “I’ll be the first boy to take you out, hm?”
“Shut up,” was your only reply.
Sunday comes and you asked your boss for a day off.
That day, Tommy took you to the garden with Polly’s chicken stew and his mum’s fig cake. Tommy didn’t let you work, he set down the food and opened the containers.
“The best meal you’ll ever have,” he said while you sat. “I should’ve done this earlier. What have you been eating?”
“I’m lucky enough to be fed. Johnny gets me some food out of the brothel sometimes.” you said. “Thanks for taking me here. I love it.”
“I knew it,” he said, spooning out your portion and giving it to you.
“I want to have a house with lots of flowers. Different coloured blooms all year round.” you said.
“The caretaker of the garden says that we can pick some flowers. Do you want to take some home?” he asked. You nodded, a flush on your face. How could someone not love him?
BIRMINGHAM, 1908
“How have you been my angel?” he asked, twirling your hair in between your fingers. “Can’t believe I missed you last week,” he mumbles, kissing your shoulder. You giggled. “I was in London and all I could think of was you,”
“I’ve never been to London,” you told him. “Are you going to take me there?” you asked, wide-eyed. He’s been your patron since you reached 18. He was quite younger than your usual customers. He always came to visit when you were seventeen but never looked at you. As if that made it better.
“You haven’t?” he asked. “I’ll take you there, Angel. I’ll show you the whole world. Hm?”
“You will?” you asked, faux excitement in your voice. He loved this; you knew. He loved that you were a fragile little bird in need of saving. He loved that you’d listen to him talk about his father. He’s the sappy kind. He liked to hold hands, talk, and make love. He’s paid you more than anyone else and gave you a hefty allowance. Big Johnny didn’t have to think about your safety anymore. “I want to go to the city! Buy everything that I see and just…breathe a different air,” you said.
“Fuck, baby, I’ll take you there and buy you everything you ever lay your eyes on. I’m not fucking around. I’ll take you there,”
“You will?” you asked. “I don’t like the idea of you leaving me. Did you know that? Sometimes, when you leave, I have to lock myself in my room and refuse everyone,” you lied. You locked yourself in because your quota was already met. You were just saying these things to keep him coming back. A little bit of pretending never hurt you. It meant a bigger tip, more money.
“Yeah?” he asked.
“Of course,” you said. “You’re my hero…”
Somehow, you didn’t find yourself lying when you told him. You felt dirty, you felt like your mother when she thought your father would give her the world. But Simon paid big money to have you alone for multiple nights a week. No other customers were to ask for services.
“I’m your hero, alright…you’re my little bird. I’m dead set on taking you with me to London. Once I get my inheritance, I’ll show you the world and get you out of these slums.”
-
BIRMINGHAM, 1909
“You don’t have to do this anymore,” Tommy said. You were well enough to have your own place somewhere near the docks now. Johnny had given you some furniture that the house wasn’t using anymore, helping you fix the tables and the chairs that you would be using. You didn’t have to live at the brothel anymore and it was all thanks to Simon.
“Don’t be ridiculous, Tommy,” you chuckled. “Do you like my place?” Tommy looked around, flowerpots littered your house.
“I’m serious.” he asked. “I’ll have you safe in Small Heath,”
“And my job? What will pay for this place? I finally have enough space for my flowers.” you asked. “I can’t just leave. Come on, you have to see the view on my balcony.”
You dragged Tommy’s hand to the balcony to show him the view. You were a little far from the docks now but from your balcony you can see it. The blue water, the usual chaos…you were smiling so freely, so beautifully. Tommy stills, unspoken words lingering in the air. You could realise it too…you’ve been realising it slowly. The world was in your hands. You could seize it if you wanted it. It fills Tommy with determination. It pumps through his veins, and it rings in his ears. Determination, consistency, and power. Three things to play with the world…three things that he’ll have. He could get you a bigger house. If he played right, he could have it all.
“This is why I got this place,” you said. “I mean, there were others but the view of the docks…I used to think everything about it was so ugly, you know? So grey, so evil…so grotesque but from the vantage point, everything is different,” a soft smile played on your lips when you let go of Tommy’s hand. He already missed your touch. “I can’t leave my job now because I wouldn’t have this,”
“I’ll work for it,” he says proudly.
“Tom, I know you’re not happy with how I earn money. Fuck, I’m not happy too. I hate that job. I know you hate it when I turn down your offer. But I have nothing else. You have to support your siblings. Don’t you get it? We’re all whores, Tom. We just sell different parts of ourselves. Mine just so happens to be my body.”
It enrages him and you could see it. See his face fall apart, how his jaw ticked.
“I’ll do it.” he said. “I’ll fucking do it. You think I’m fucking around when I tell you that I’ll protect you? I will. I’ll make a name for myself and protect you. I’ll fucking protect you; I swear on my life.”
“I know you will, Tom,” you said, inching closer. “But can’t you just be happy for me? This once?”
“We could add a little chair right here,” he relented. How could he ever tell you how much he hated himself for not being enough right now? “I’ll bring some of Polly’s flowers. You’d let me stay here?”
“Only if you’re being nice,”
“What if I’m too tired to make the trip back to Small Heath? Can I stay here?” he asked.
“Sure,” you shrugged. “But only if you have food for me or something,”
“Or something? You’re not letting me stay for free? I’m your best mate,” he chuckled. “I mooch off you all the time,”
“You have more than I do. It’s time for me to mooch off on you,”
“Yeah? Well, I want yours,” he said. “I’m glad though…that you don’t have to live there anymore. You’re safer here,”
“Thank you, Tom,” you smiled, sitting by the railing of your balcony. “I’m glad too.”
“I’ll make sure you’re protected,” he promises.
“How?”
“I’ll protect you.”
-
BIRMINGHAM, 1910
Tommy gave you the number of his telephone years ago. You were shaking, something bad had happened and you didn’t know who else to turn to. Big Johnny was too busy breaking up fights in the bar beside the brothel. You walked home shakily. Tommy called the brothel earlier to tell you that he couldn’t make it tonight because of some gang business. It was fine, of course. So, you went to the market to buy some supplies. You just didn’t know that he would be there.
You were waiting for someone to pick up the phone, biting your perfectly manicured nails.
“Who’s calling?” a woman asked from the other line. Her tone was snippy, and you knew she meant business.
“Hi,” you cleared your throat. “I’m looking for Tommy Shelby?”
“Who is this?” she asked, confused as to why a woman would suddenly call Tommy in such a manner. She was used to Tommy’s girls calling, an embarrassment usually hinted when they spoke. But this new girl had no shame.
“I’m a friend of Tommy’s,”
“Tommy has many girlfriends. You’re going to have to be specific,” she said, intrigued.
“Oh, of course,” you said. You told her your name. “Is he there?”
“Tommy!” you could hear her voice call. “Some girl is on the phone for you!”
“What, Poll?” he asked, scowling.
“Pick up the phone, Tom. Your friend is asking for you,” she said, passing the phone to him. She didn’t leave the room immediately, sitting on the nearby chair instead to listen in.
“Tommy Shelby,” he says, and you breathed a sigh of relief.
“Tommy,” you whispered. “He was there…he was there.”
“Who, love?” Tommy asked. Polly noticed how his voice softened, how his stance relaxed. “Do you need me there?”
“He was one of my customers before,” you forced out. “He was always…rude and rough,” you choked. “I hate this fucking job, Tommy. I fucking hate it and he treated me like an object today just because he paid for my services years ago,” you sobbed. “I’m sorry. I know you were busy but I fucking hate it,”
“Shh…it’s okay, love. It’s okay. I’m going over there, and you could tell me,” he said. “Will that be alright?”
“I—yes,” you nodded, wiping your tears hastily. “I got some of your favourite fruit from the market today. Didn’t know you have an expensive taste,”
He chuckled softly.
“I’ll see you, alright?” he asked. “Keep the doors locked. I have my copy,”
“Okay, Tommy. Stay safe for me?” you asked.
“Of course.” Tommy put down the phone until he heard you end the line. He sighed and went to go get his coat until he saw Polly with an eyebrow raised. “Fuck, I didn’t see you there,”
“Who would? You were too lovestruck to notice anything,” she teased. “That’s the girl you’ve been seeing?”
“We’re friends, Pol,” he clarified.
“She’s the girl from the docks, then?” she asked. Tommy nodded. “Fuck, that’s rough. She’s a whore,”
“Don’t,” he said, an edge to his voice. “Don’t call her that. I’m trying to build something for all of us, Pol. For her. She hates her job…she fucking hates it and I can’t do anything about it,”
“You don’t have to save her, Tom. You can’t save everyone,” she said but she knew that Tommy was stubborn. Everything that she’ll say will fall on deaf ears.
“It’s all her,” he said, clearing his throat. “I’ll get her out of there if it’s the last thing I do.”
The walk to your place was unnerving. Thoughts swarmed in his head. If he only had it in him to murder the man who dared to look at you. He’s never made peace with how you earned your money, but he still happily showed up after every shift. You never talk about your customers, and he didn’t like to ask.
“Tommy, you’re here,” you greeted. He could see how swollen your eyes were; how red they were.
“Of course, I am,” he replied. “Are you okay?” He hangs his coat on the coat rack and walks towards the couch where you were seated.
“I am now,” you sniffed. “I’m sorry for making you worry but this job…people reduce me to such an object. I didn’t even know his name, you know?”
“I know, love.” he said, his heart beating inside his chest. What was it? What was the beating?
“Tommy, I’m going to make a request. It’s absurd and we haven’t done it yet…”
“What?” he whispered, unsure.
“Can-can you hold me?” you asked. “You don’t have to but…I have no semblance of what it’s like to be loved anymore. I want to pretend. At least for tonight, somebody out there loves me.”
“You don’t have to pretend,” he said. “You’re my friend. Of course, I love you.”
You only smiled, snuggling closer to Tommy. You were his friend…only a friend. How else would he look at you differently? You still had to pretend because the love that he was willing to give was not the love that you were looking for.
-
BIRMINGHAM, 1911
Multiple knocks on your door woke you up. Someone was screaming your name outside and you felt yourself panic. You took the gun that Tommy gifted you last year and crept down the stairs. You opened the door slowly to reveal two men—one older and one younger. The younger one had a smirk playing on his lips while the other looked panicked.
“Who are you?” you asked, tightening the gun behind your back.
“Arthur Shelby,” the one with the beard replied. You nodded. “I’m Tommy’s older brother. This is John,”
“Where…where’s Tommy?”
“He asked us to come get you,” John replied. “We mean no harm.”
“What happened to him?” you asked. “Come in,”
The brothers entered your house and watched you lay your gun on the table. An unspoken threat.
“Tommy’s not in a good place,” Arthur replied. “Well, he’s asking for you. He’s having these…episodes. I don’t fucking know what thr fuck they’re called but sometimes, he calls for you when he shuts down,”
“It's even worse today,” John added. “Our mother died,”
“Oh, shit. I’m sorry,” you said, offering a small smile. “Will you let me dress better? I’ll come with you,”
You met the brothers outside of your house, your gun secured on your skirt.
“Are you Tommy’s whore?” John asked as you walked.
“John!”
“I’m not his fucking whore,”
“So, why is he always at the brothel by the docks?” he pressed.
“We met when we were kids. Your dad used to visit the brothel with him,” you shrugged. “I never understood why your father took him there all the time. It’s a dangerous place,”
“Why were you there?”
“My mother worked there. I was born there. I grew up there,” you shrugged. “Tommy was my only friend growing up. Your father stopped coming but Tommy still managed to show up,”
“I see,” Arthur replied. “You’re the girl who gave him toy horses when we were kids, then. He never let us touch them. Even now, he has them lined up on his wall,”
“Yeah, I was. I gave it to him a week after my mother died,” you recalled.
“I’m sorry for calling you his whore,” John said. He realised now that your relationship with Tommy was deeper. It was more meaningful than he realised.
“It’s okay,” you let out a small smile. “It’s a fair assumption,”
Minutes of silence passed by, and your group stopped in Watery Lane. You’ve never been in his house before; you never had the time to do so. You were also quite ashamed to show yourself. How could you prove that you weren’t after Tommy’s money if that's exactly what you are after men?
The door of the house opens, and you assume it was Polly. The same woman who you talked to on the telephone before.
“He’s in his room upstairs. Last door to the left,” she said.
“Thank you,” you rushed to where Tommy was. You didn’t bother to stay and eavesdrop. You were there for Tommy. You knocked on his door slightly.
“Stay the fuck away from my door or I will kill you,” he shouted. You cracked the door open slightly.
“It’s me, Tom,” you said. He rose from his bed and rushed towards you, flinging his arms around you. He pulled you closer. “Hi,”
“She’s dead,” he murmurs against your hair. “My mum’s dead. My dad left. I didn’t even like him, you know? He always hit the three of us. I thought it would be better if he just fucking left but my mum died because he left. Now, I don’t have her.”
“I’m so sorry, Tommy,” you said. You knew he was still struggling after his father left many months ago. He was shaking in your arms, trying to grasp you tightly. Trying to be closer. “I’m so sorry,”
“I…I don’t know what to do,” he said. “You never got to meet her. She’d love you; you know?”
“That makes us even,” you saw a small smile on his lips. “I’m here now, Tom. You could rest,”
“You’ll still be here when I wake up?” he asked meekly, like a child.
“I’ll be here,” you nod, caressing his cheek softly. He nods, yawning after he evened out his breathing.
“Shit, love. I’m so tired,” he yawned again. “Let’s both go to sleep. We deserve it. I’ll see you when I’m awake?” he asked, adjusting your position on his small bed.
“I’ll see you,” you confirmed, snuggling closer to him.
-
“Tommy’s playing a dangerous game,” Polly commented from downstairs. It has been met with no resistance.
-
BIRMINGHAM, 1914
“Good afternoon, Pol,” you smiled. You were invited for Sunday dinner, and you decided to bring cake from the bakery that Tommy liked. You’ve only met them last year, but you’ve become such an integral part of their family that people knew you were closely associated with them. Even Simon.
“Oh, you didn’t have to bring cake,” she said. “We’d rather you spend it somewhere,”
“It’s alright,” you said. “I wanted to do something nice,”
“Keeping Tommy levelheaded is nice enough. Seriously, what did you do?” Ada asked, chopping the vegetables. She was reluctant at first but now, she couldn’t go a week without ranting to you. Girls’ night is what she called them.
“I don’t know,” you chuckled. “May I help?”
“If you could kindly chop the carrots, please,” Polly said. You set yourself and rolled your sleeves, peeling the carrots first. “Tommy and the boys went out for a while. They said it was some business with the Blinders. While they’re out, how are you?”
“Oh,” you nodded. “Me?”
“Of course. Ada has been talking my ear off about some guy she’s so secretive about,” she scoffed.
“I’ve been working less,” you confessed. “I’m helping out on the counter. Helping Big Johnny with the money and the accounts. I work a few times a week now. Simon’s been frequenting the brothel and well, you know what Simon does. It helps that he doesn’t stay long. The brothel pays me for my assistance. I can buy you cake every week now,”
“Don’t do that. Finn will be spoiled rotten,” Ada says. “Besides, you deserve nice things for yourself, you know,”
“I know but I can’t help it,” you said with a soft smile. “I like doing nice things for you,”
The boys soon come through the door, spilling with laughter. Tommy makes a beeline towards you as soon as he spots you.
“How was the afternoon?” you asked, bumping your hips with him.
“It was good,” he said. “Finn got into a fight with some kids, and we had to deal with it.”
“Is Finn okay? I brought cake.”
“Just a bruised ego,” he chuckled. My favourite?”
“Of course,” you said. “But let’s pretend that it’s for Finn, alright?”
“It’s always for Finn,” he groans. “He has you wrapped around his finger,”
“He does. He’s such a charming kid,” you praised. “Where is he, anyway?”
“Taking a bath before dinner. You have me for now,” Tommy said. “Can I sleep at your house later?” he asks in a softer tone. He’s been sleeping at your place ever since last year. He said you make him sleep better.
“You know it’s never a problem,” you said. His presence made you feel safe. He made you feel secure. “Will we leave together?”
“Yes. I’d like to sleep as soon as possible,” he says, dropping his forhead on your shoulder. You only chuckled. “I’m so tired. So, so tired,”
“Who are they fooling?” Ada asked in whispers. “Are we sure they’re best mates?”
“They’ve insisted on it for years,” Arthur shrugged. “I don’t think they’re aware,”
“I don’t think so either,” John says. “But Tommy throws a fit whenever she has to meet that Simon prick. Calls him a rich bastard.”
“He is a rich bastard,” Ada nodded. “She says he just came into his inheritance. Ammunitions,”
“Shit. She hit the jackpot, then,” John commented. “Wonder how that’s gonna go?”
“There’s nothing to wonder, John,” Arthur says. John could only nod his head.
-
You stumbled inside your house around half past midnight. You were both quite tipsy, having drank Pol’s stocks of wine. The Shelby Company Ltd. has been gaining more popularity now, along with the Blinders. Hell, Tommy even posted two Blinders to guard you. “For when I’m not around,” he said.
“Pol’s going to kill me for giving Finn too much cake,” you giggled, leaning on him.
“I reckon you’re banned from Sunday dinners,” Tommy jokes, taking his shoes off. He takes note of how you’re dressed today. “You know you can remove all the fucking things on your body right? Rouge…the jewels. Where’d you get them? Is the rich bastard buttering you up?”
“I like it. Dressing up makes me happy,” you frowned. “I’m allowed to like nice things, right?”
“Right,” his jaw ticked. It should be him who's giving you these gifts…showing you a lavish life. He hated it. “Later?”
“Later,” you nodded. “When I’m banned from Sunday dinners, you wouldn’t let me be left out, right?”
“‘Course not,” he shrugged, pulling you to your bedroom like he owned the place. You didn’t mind. You were happy to see that he was comfortable in your home. “You’re my best girl.”
“That’s what you say to your horses,”
“You’ve got really good horse sense and you’re always on your high horse,” he says, peeling his coat away. He was rummaging in your chest now, looking for clothes he might have left until he settled on a simple white shirt and pyjama pants.
“Yeah, yeah. You and your horse wordplay.” You entered the bathroom to dress down. Just like Tommy, you settled in his shirt and pants. They were more comfortable than singlets and you certainly didn’t want to make Tommy uncomfortable.
He was already waiting for you on the bed when you came back. He pats the space beside him. You obliged. You were looking into each other’s eyes with small smiles, Tommy’s finger trailing down your arm absentmindedly.
“I…” words died in his throat before he could get them out. “I…”
“What is it, Tom? Are you okay?”
“I’ll get you out of here,” he rasps. “I’ll get you out of there and I won’t let you work a day in your life anymore.”
“Tommy,” you sighed. “I can’t—can’t leave this job. It’s all I have,” He tightens his arms around you, afraid that you’ll ask him to let go.
“I know but once I come back from the war—“
“The war?” you asked, removing his arms around you. “War?”
“We enlisted,” he clarifies, trying to gauge your reaction. “Once I come back, I’ll be so fucking rich. I’ll have you. I’ll keep you and you won’t have to lift a finger. We’ll live in a mansion and have servants. Just like what we used to talk about,”
“Tommy, you’re going to war?” you asked, standing from the bed. His eyes watched you settle down shakily on the single chair by the bed. “Fuck. You’re going to war. You’re going to leave me,”
“No, love. Come on, I—“ he grunts, sitting up from his relaxed position.
“It’s war, Tommy! They change people…I don’t want to lose you; do you not get that? Are you not happy here? Is that why you're throwing your life away?”
“I’m not throwing my life away,” he says, a frown. “We’ll be drafted one way or another because we’re poor. Might as well do it now than be forced. Some of my men will still watch over you every now and then. They’ll still make sure that you’re safe. We’ll send letters. Alright?”
“Letters,” you scoffed. “And what if the letters stopped coming?”
“Don’t say that, please,” he begs. “I’m doing this for all of us. The business will be handled by Polly and when I’m back, I’ll make it even bigger. Alright? You have to trust me,” You didn’t even want to ask about the business. You didn’t want to ask why more men wore peaky caps. You didn’t want to ask what the Shelby Company Ltd. really was. Not now.
“I know you will, Tom,” you said. “But I’m scared. For the first time since I’ve known you, you won’t be here. I’m scared,”
Tommy lays his hand on your shoulder. Words he couldn’t say lingered in the air. I’ll marry you once I step foot in England. He didn’t know what else to say; didn’t know if there was still something to say. So, he kneels before you and makes you look at him. You were crying. So afraid, so alone.
“I’m sorry,” he says.
“When will you be leaving?”
“I have two more days,” he says. “Will I still see you?”
“Yes, of course,” you said. “You’ll come back for me?”
“Of course. I have a picture of you already in my pocket. I have to make sure to come back to you,” he said. “and everyone else, of course.”
He fishes a necklace from his pocket, his mother’s locket.
“Here,” he said, showing it to you. It was one of the last pieces of jewellery she owned. “Mum gave it to me. You know I’ve always worn it. I want you to wear it now. Think of it as a loan, yeah? You’ll give it back once we see each other again,”
“Tommy, I—“
“I want you to accept it. I want you to see you wear it now. I want to see you wear it before I leave. But most of all I want for us to stay the same,” he says, holding you and kissing your hair softly. You couldn’t push him away. You’ve longed for this your whole life. To be held, to feel loved. It’s all you’ve ever wanted.
“I’m sorry. So, so, so fucking sorry.”
“I don’t think you’re wasting your life away,” you cleared your throat. “I’m so—I’m so proud of you and your bravery. I’m so proud of you but I can’t be fucking happy for you. I don’t want to wake up every day knowing that you’re not here. I don’t want to have to guess if you were alive or not.”
“I am,” he promises. “I’ll be alive. I’ll come back as your Tommy. Just…wait for me, alright?”
You clung onto Tommy two days later by the train. He whispered that he would come back. He said that he will make sure of it. He breathes in the smell of your hair—roses. He envelopes you in his arms once more and turns to leave, never looking back. You knew, in your hysterics, that if he comes back from the war, the same old Tommy you used to know would never be.
PART 2 PART 3
TAGLIST: @shelbydelrey @runnning-outof-time @duckybird101 @thenattitude @swordofawriter @litteltourtius @trixie23 @everythingelseisextra
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