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#tommy shelby x fem!reader
brummiereader · 1 month
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MASTERLIST PART THREE
Unchained Melody (Part Four)
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Summary: After a distressing day of events, you and Tommy finally have the conversation you had both been avoiding for over a fortnight. All under the furious glare of the Governess as she watches from the window, fuming that her plan had fallen apart.
Warnings: Language, angst, fluff, mutual pining, medical emergency
Word Count: 5334
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Counting the days since your return to Arrow House had quickly turned into counting weeks. And just as you had once stored the memory of time passed, you found yourself in the midst of loneliness once again. Your new life felt much the same as it once did, albeit with a clearer mind, and the cherished guiding hand of reassurance from your dear housekeeper, Frances. But as you tried to rebuild the severed bond with your son, one thing from your previous life stubbornly remained without any hope of changing. Tommy's absence. Two weeks had passed since your husband had given you a difficult dose in the reality of your disappearance from his life to swallow. And two weeks had passed since you last spoke more than a few words to each other. If his avoidance of you wasn't obvious before, there was now no denying it.
Ashamed of his behavior, and begrudging the fact the near full contents of a whisky bottle he had consumed that night was not enough to dull his memory of the moment he had nearly struck you, Tommy had all but barricaded himself off, and away from any resurfacing grievances he still held for you.
Not allowing yourself to follow your husband's emotional course of self-destruction, you decided to focus your attention on one thing. William. If your husband's bullheadedness had no intentions of following his Aunt's advice, then you would. For all the years you had lived within the tight-knit family you had married into, you had learnt one thing. Polly was always right. Always.
With the wise words of the Shelby matriarch playing on loop in your thoughts as you sat at your vanity, brushing your hair into a loose updo, you forgoed any hopes of reconciliation with your husband, and did as the saying goes. "Let sleeping dogs lie"
Just let him be. You told your nagging brain as you stood up, placing your ivory pearl tear-dropped earrings into your ears, forcing them with a wince through the thin layer of skin that had formed from the many years you had gone without jewellery. A birthday gift from Tommy. Was a little part of you hoping he would notice? You thought to yourself as you opened your bedroom door, wondering if the subtle gesture of gratitude you still held for him would go overlooked. Not that you were trying, of course. And like everything else you had been thrown into in the past two weeks, now was your chance to find out. For just as you reached the top of the staircase, so did your husband, and with it an uncomfortable, almost unbearable silence following him.
" Tommy" you greeted him, unable to force a smile through the sorrow weighing down your heart at his absent gaze as you searched his face for the same desperation you felt.
" Morning" he stated, void of any notions of intimacy as he cleared his throat. Sending but a mere glimpse your way, he gestured with his hand for you to lead the way.
For the briefest of moments all you could do was stand there, hoping like some silly school girl he'd notice the birthday present he had gifted you all those many moons ago. But as Tommy fished in his suit jacket for a much-needed puff of the cigarette calling his name, a dousing of embarrassment piled onto the already mounting heap you had accumulated over the past two weeks, and thus further installing Polly's words to you.
Focus on William. You reassured yourself holding your head high as he followed behind you, quickly inhaling the fumes from the tightly coiled cylinder of tobacco resting between his lips.
But Tommy did notice. He would have noticed a single eyelash out of place if given enough time to do so. Everything, and anything to do with you Tommy noticed, anything but the one thing he had regretfully refused to face, and would now haunt him to his grave, tormenting him for not saying something enough to soothe your worries away. You wore royal blue that night. He thought to himself, recalling the evening he had gifted you the delicate pearled jewels that were gracefully swaying through the whispers of your hair gathered together into pins as he took each step down the long wooded staircase behind you, watching the skin on your neck pucker into small goosebumps from the light spring breeze flowing through the open windows. The same night he held you tightly in his arms, making love to you in front of the fireplace of your living room. The night he was sure William was made. He recounted, losing himself in the small ghost of a smile etched on the corner of his mouth as he watched the end of your dress glide over each step, while the memory of you profusely refuting his calculations entered his thoughts. But when William was born exactly nine months later, he couldn't help but feel a certain sense of cockiness that his keen eye for observation, and his note of a very needy wife that night hadn't gone a miss.
"Mrs Shelby, Mr Shelby. He's been so eager to see you both" Frances smiled upon seeing you descend united down the staircase, a small amount of misplaced hope in her heart that you had worked through things as you both beamed at the wriggly two-year-old unable to contain himself any further in her arms at the sight of his parents.
" William! Hi sweetheart " You smiled, kneeling down as his little legs charged towards you, throwing himself into you with a squeal and a thud. " Did you grow during the night? I think you did" you tickled under the curve of his chin, rubbing your nose over his as your husband's heart pulled at it's tethered strings from seeing the peaceful image of his wife and son together, an image he never thought he'd witness again " What do you think Tommy? Doesn't he looked like he's gro.." You said, momentarily forgetting your self as you turned to face your husband, only to be met with an empty space with Tommy having already walked off to his office.
" Come Mam, I have breakfast ready for you both" Frances sighed ushering you away from the sadness enveloping you as you pulled your only connection to your husband tightly in your arms. " Don't fret now" she said placing her hand to your back, as all your reserves left and a tear began to well in your lashes. " Time is a great healer" she whispered to you with a loving smile as the dining room door closed behind you both and Tommy glanced back, watching his family shut him out. How long would he keep this up before he buckled?
"Good day to you Mrs Shelby, and young Master William" the gardener, Mr Heath greeted you both taking his gloves off as you and William made your way out into the gardens of Arrow house later that morning, feeling the need to walk off the large breakfast of crumpets, and every spreadable food known to man that Frances had lovingly prepared for you.
" Look who it is William! Say hello" you guided him forward with a smile, watching him toddle to the enticing flower bed bright with colours Mr Heath had undoubtedly spent most of his morning planting. With an incoherent babble of words leaving his lips, William sized up the flower in front of him, picking it from its root before you had time to scoop him up into your arms. " I'm sorry Mr Heath. Nothing seems to escape him at the moment" you apologised as you held William on your hip with his victory grasped firmly between his chubby fingers.
" Plenty more where they came from. Isn't that right William? We'll make a gardener of you yet" he winked to your son, looping his thumbs through his suspenders as William kicked his feet back and forth with a squeal, muddying your freshly laundered dress. " Got some of those roses you like Mam, had one of the lads plant 'em this morning. Miss Gray insisted on them being added to the new flower bed you've been designing. And I'm not foolish enough to say no to her, ay?" he said with a chuckle nodding them out as your eyes widened, and a smile flashed across your face at the touching gesture, and Polly's keen memory of the flowers you would have the groundsmen plant rows of so you could adorn the rooms of Arrow house with their sweet perfume.
" Oh Mr Heath, thank you! You're ever so kind" you said, placing your hand on the curve of his shoulder as your eyes brimmed with tears at his gentle nature, unaware the whole interaction was being watched by your husband who was stood at his office window.
" Well, well. She seems to have a soft spot for your trusted gardener" the Governess said announcing her presence, snaking forward behind Tommy as his jaw tightened at the sound of her voice, his fists clenching furiously onto the windowsill Infront of him." She's often out there talking to him, for hours on end"
" Get out" he stated coldly as Tommy continued to watch you from afar, the Governesses words slowly sowing doubt into his already bombarded thoughts.
" Oh come on Tommy..." She purred, standing behind him as she watched you with William talking to the gardener, her breath hot against the back of his neck, sending a shivering chill down his spine " William's her priority now. She's moving on, time you did too. I see a little spark between them" she giggled, brushing her hands around his waist down to his belt whilst she rested her freshly powdered cheek on his back as a heavy release of anger quickly heated the tips of Tommy's ears from her continued refusal to accept his disinterest in her.
"Keep your vapid thoughts to yourself!" he spat, pulling her talons off him as he marched to his office door puffing furiously on his cigarette before swinging it open for her to leave.
" She doesn't want you Tommy" she teased, her icy glare matching his own as she sauntered past him, taking the cigarette from his mouth then blowing the fumes over his lips before your husband furiously slammed the door and returned back to the window, back to his troubled mind.
Heavy with anger, the Governesses words had left a bitter taste in his spiraling thoughts as he slipped into paranoia. Was this your way to get back at him for the Governess? A fling with one of his staff? He thought to himself, watching your hand drop from the gardener's shoulder, your muffled laughs loud enough to be heard from where he was stood. What was so funny? Were you laughing at him? He fumed with jealousy, his eyes fixed solely on your every movement, ignoring the real reason for your joyful mood.
" William, no darling!" You said with a chuckle, turning to face your two-year-old who had taken a liking to the flower he had picked so much, it was now fully enclosed in his mouth with only the stem sticking out.
"We'll leave those for the horses, ay William?" the gardener laughed, ruffling his dark locks as you pulled the fully intact flower from within his plump cheeks. " I'll have my boys plant some more roses this weekend for you Mam. We'll soon have the gardens looking as they once did" Mr Heath promised, turning back with pride at the flower bed he had spent the previous days planning with you, a little something to help you remember things could be how they once were, given enough time to flower.
" Thank you, Mr Heath" you said, looking around the garden when your eyes darted past Tommy stood at the window in the distance with a cloud of smoke bellowing in front his face, a displeased look etched into his furrowed brow. " Shall we get you inside?" you said glancing away from your husband to your son, wondering what you had done now to have him looking so vexed.
" It's good to have you back Mam" Mr Heath nodded his head to you with a smile as you turned to leave.
" It's good to be home" you called back, adjusting William on your hip as you watched your husband in the corner of your eye, following your every step as you made your way back inside, and unknowingly to face his sour temper.
" Y/N!" Tommy bellowed your name as he came marching towards you when Frances quickly inserted herself between you both, noting the Governess lurking behind the door of the library watching.
" Did you enjoy the flowers Miss Gray had planted for the new garden you've been planning with Mr Heath, Mrs Shelby?" Frances quickly interrupted Tommy before he said something he would later undoubtedly regret. For Tommy's once notorious stoic demeanor had rapidly turned into one of anger since your return. The likely culprit to this sudden change in behavior, still watching down in the corridor, adding more fuel to the flames of your already burning marriage.
" It's beautiful. I must remember to call and thank her" you replied, turning to face your husband with a quizzical brow, watching him turn his head away with a deep sigh as his fingers came up to pinch the tightened skin on the bridge of his nose.
" Mr Shelby, is there something I can help you with?" Frances asked as you both waited, watching the wheels turn in his eyes while he stood with his hands on his hips, head cast down feeling stupid for letting the viper he needed to be rid of slither her way into his paranoia.
"The er, the cake..." he said clearing his throat as he looked up, his eyes darting between you and Frances as you furrowed your brow at his unusual stuttering manner. What had gotten into him?
" Yes Mr Shelby?" Frances replied with a dutiful smile.
" What...what did Mr Giles use this time?" he asked, shifting his weight from one foot to the other as his eyes quickly darted to you then back to your head housekeeper.
"Oh, I wouldn't know Mr Shelby. It was your wife that baked it this week" she said looking to you as you glanced up from smoothing down the jumper bunched up around William's chest whilst he curiously pulled at the pearl dangling from your earring.
" Brandy" you replied as a silence uncomfortably sat between you both while Frances watched on in desperation for you to both reunite, and bring peace and the love you shared back to Arrow House.
" Right" he replied quietly as his eyes lingered on you, gazing between your glossy lips and doe eyes looking up at him through your full lashes. " Right..." he repeated once again before suddenly turning for the front door.
" What...what on earth was all that about?" You asked your housekeeper as a look of puzzlement crossed your face from your husband's chaotic interaction with you.
" I'm not sure Mam" Frances replied guiding you away before glancing back to see a smirk of enjoyment flash across the Governesses lips, her eyes unnervingly narrowing in on her.
With an uncomfortable feeling of dread and unease weighing down her stomach, Frances watched the library door close, and the woman she had clocked onto slip away. What was she up to?
"Soon, William. Just another hour" you sighed, looking up at the clock as your son furiously stomped his feet, throwing his teddy your way with a wail of cries. No snacking, he's on a strict schedule. The Governesses words rang in your ears as you looked back at the ticking hands of the clock, convinced they were purposely going slower than normal. " How about we play with your new train set while we wait for dinner? Yeh?" you said energetically as you stood up from the nursery floor, hoping your enthusiasm would distract him from his rumbling belly. Holding out for his reaction, you waited and watched as he blinked away his tears, then dramatically threw himself to the floor, thrashing about like a crocodile in the throes of a death roll. " Right, you win" you declared, deciding a small snack was nothing worth battling over with a two-year-old as you picked him up and marched to the door and down the staircase. " I'm your mummy, and if you want a snack only one hour before dinner then...well, you can have a bloody snack" you said with determination, ignoring the Governesses rules that were anything but what she claimed to be "polite recommendations".
" Can I help you Mam?" The young kitchen aid Billy asked you as you started rummaging through the many cupboards, while simultaneously stopping Williams curious hands from putting everything and anything in his mouth for a drooling, toothy toddler taste test.
"Do we have any dried fruit, biscuits, bread?" You turned to ask him with a flustered face placing William down, your son instantly making a beeline for a large packet of flour. " William, wait!" you said as he opened the contents, pouring it over the tiled floor.
" Uh oh" he said with his hands out behind a puff of flour filling the air.
" Uh oh, indeed" you said covering your mouth from the giggles you were unable to hold back as you and Billy both looked down at your two-year-old emerging from the cloud of white dust that had settled around him.
" What's going on in here?" The Governess snapped, stood at the door as you patted the flour from your child's clothes. " Billy, clean this up" she demanded as you picked up your son and placed him on the kitchen table, dusting the remaining powdery kitchen staple from his brown locks. " Mrs Shelby. Your presence brings quite the chaos doesn't it?" she said as you sharply turned back to the cupboards, your patience reaching it's limits with her constant undermining of you. " His dinner is in under an hour" she reminded you as she frowned at the various jars and boxes of food you had pulled out from within the kitchen cabinets.
"He's been hungry for a few hours now. Something small won't hurt him before it's ready" you replied with as much assertiveness you could muster, waiting for her next snarky remark.
"Hours? I didn't tell you to starve the poor child. You're his mother, surely you know what he needs?" she replied, her cruel words hitting the little remaining self-confidence you had left as you bent down to William's eye level, his sweet face smiling back at you enough to keep the tears from starting, and the strength to say what needed to be said.
" I am his mother" you said, standing up, placing your arm protectively around your child's back. " And from today, I don't want to hear any more of your council, nor opinions on how I raise him. Know your place, and stay out of my parenting, and marriage" you finished with a labored breath, your heart rapidly pounding in your chest as you tried to keep your firmness on the matter from falling under the nerves coursing through your body.
"Billy, Mr Giles wants you! " She snapped, turning her piercing glare to the young kitchen aid stood nervously watching at the end of the table.
" But I have to finish up..."
" Now!" she barked, uncrossing her arms as she pulled a small jar of hazelnuts and various dried fruits from the shelf behind her as the young worker hurried past her, his eyes darting to the items of food she had placed on the large wooden table before he shut the door behind him. "Mrs Shelby?" She said pushing the food towards you, as you looked up from your son.
"Here we go, sweetheart" you said with a smile as you reached for the jar of nuts, crushing one between the heel of your hand and the table for him." Good?" You asked as he held his hand out for more, excitedly kicking his feet back and forth.
" Slow down" you giggled as your son delved his hand into the jar whilst you crushed another of the sweet earthy hazelnuts for you to share. "Slowly William" you said furrowing your brow as he began to cough, and your eyes darted around the kitchen for a jug of water as the Governess stood quietly watching. " William here, drink" you said placing a small cup to his lips when a feeling of unease settled in your stomach and your heart rapidly fluttered within you chest at the sound of yours sons sudden, unexpected wheezing. "William...William?" You panicked rubbing his back as his little lungs forcefully strained each labored breath out." Get help!" You cried looking to the Governess as you scooped up your son into your arms, his stifled cries of pain sending your body into a dizzying daze as your ears filled with a piercing ringing.
"What did you give him?!" Tommy shouted, storming through the kitchen moments later with Frances quickly following behind him as you stood there in shock, frantically trying to ease your child's cries.
" Wha...what's happening? Tommy?" You stuttered out between your rapid thoughts as you tried to answer your husband, when Tommy grabbed him from within your arms and placed him down on the cool slabbed floor, pulling his jumper off him.
" What did you fucking give him?!" Your husband screamed at you as his eyes darted up from the blotchy pink rashes covering your child's heaving chest and stomach.
" I...I..." You cried as you picked up the crushed hazelnut on the table next to you as Tommy's eyes suddenly widened in a panic.
" Get the fucking car!" Tommy shouted picking William up in his arms, cradling his limp body tightly against his chest as he ran outside, the Governess feet behind him.
" Frances?..." Your voice trembled as your eyes blinked through the tears welled in your lashes.
" You didn't know, dear. Quick, he needs you" she beckoned you forward from the state of shock welding your feet to the ground.
With a surge of adrenaline pushing you forward and out the front door, you watched as your husband carried your son into the car as the Governess slipped into the seat beside him.
"William!" You cried, as your shaky body frantically ran to them, stumbling forward until your hands landed on the boot of the car. " I'm here...William I'm here" you sobbed as your trembling fingers guided you around the Bentley, only for the Governess to slam the door shut in your face before quickly winding the window up. " Wait, wait!" You cried banging your fists on the glass, trying to garner your husband's attention who was in his own panicked daze as he tried to ease your sons discomfort.
" Go" the Governess instructed the driver as she wrapped her arm around your husbands shoulder, flashing you a look of disgust and contempt before the car drove off in a haste, leaving you in a heap of strangled cried in the muddied grass.
An allergic reaction, something any mother would have know. Something you should have known. But you didn't. And as you watched the car speed away, you felt your body cave in on itself as the weight of the grave error you had made plunged you into the depths of the ground below you, dragging you into nothing but hopelessness and despair. You were his mother... you should have known.
Four hours had passed since your husband had rushed your son to the nearest hospital. And as you sat in the icy bath you had plunged yourself into over two hours ago, you stayed motionless, numb from the thousands of needles pricking your skin as you stared blankly at the droplets of water dripping from the tap at the end of the bath, counting them as they echoed loudly in the empty darkened room.
" Mrs Shelby! My goodness!" You'll freeze to death" Frances gasped upon entering the room, throwing the neatly folded linen in her arms to the floor before pulling the plug from the bath and you along with it.
"Is he dead? Frances... Is he dead?" your voice trembled as you snapped out of your dazed state at the feeling of a warm towel being tightly wrapped around your freezing body.
" William is well, Mam" She replied as she pulled you towards her, frantically rubbing your arms up and down in an attempt to warm your body up. " Mr Shelby is waiting for you in the nursery. He wants to speak with you"
"No. I can't, Frances...not after this. He'll kill me" you panicked as you clutched tightly onto her arm, pulling yourself and her away from the door, away from the anger you feared your husband had for you.
" He'll do nothing of the sort" she reassured your paranoid mind, slowly guiding your reluctant feet to the master bedroom to dress, and the welcoming burning fire she had lit for you.
" I do like to be beside the seaside, oh I do like to be beside the sea" you heard your husband quietly sing as William slept soundly in his arms whilst you watched from the door of the nursery. "Shh, my boy" he said, turning to see you as you shifted nervously from one foot to the other under the moonlight beaming through the windows as he placed William gently into his cot.
" I'm sorry. I...I didn't know" you sobbed quietly as your husband stood with his hands resting on his waist, his face tired and drained from the day's events.
" We need to talk" he said, raising his brow with his hand out pointing to you as he watched you step back and away from him.
" I didn't know Tommy..." you cried, slowly walking backwards until your body hit the door and your fingers frantically reached for the handle behind you as your husband stared you down.
" You gonna run, eh? That's what you do, don't you?" He said following you, his eyes challenging you with every step you took as you stumbled past the furniture of your master bedroom. "Run when things get hard..." his voice rose when you turned and bolted out the door and down the corridor. " Y/N!" Tommy's voice bellowed down the stairs as he ran after you, watching you push the heavy front door open into the night air. " No! I'm not gonna let you do this again!" He shouted catching up, firmly grabbing your arm as you tossed and turned in his grip.
" Tommy stop!" You screamed, pushing him off you as you stumbled back, your lungs scrambling for air from the anguished cry that had left your lips. " I can't...I can't do this anymore. I'm not fit to be his mother. I could've killed him" you wept breathlessly as you clutched onto the brick wall gating your home.
"You didn't know..."
"I should have though! Why did you bring me back here, Tommy?! Why? You should have left me!" you shouted at him, hitting him across his chest, furious that he had thrown you back into the situation you once fled from after having convinced yourself your presence only brought dread and chaos to the ones you loved the most.
" Left you? You wanted me to fucking leave you?! Do you want to see what you left me with, eh?" Tommy bellowed, as he grabbed you by your arms, stopping your weak blows before dragging you by the wrist to a gated, enclosed area at the back of the house. "There. That's what you left me with" he spat, pushing you through the gate to a stoned monument adorned with carved roses cascading down it's side, your name intricately etched into the marble. " An empty fucking grave Y/N!" He yelled, the force of his words taking his breath away as his body hunched over, heaving for air.
"Tom..." You cried turning to face him, desperately reaching for him.
" Filled with your clothes, pictures of me and William. A tomb without a fucking body" he said, running his hands through his hair as he looked at the marked grave. "He cried for you every night you were gone. I...I didn't know what to do Y/N, he wanted his mother. But you were gone, dead" Tommy sniffed, letting his barrier finally drop as tears welled in his eyes, and he lulled his head back, desperately trying to get a hold on his escaping emotions. "Do you know how that felt, eh? That I couldn't take his tears away, that his own father couldn't settle him?" He said through gritted teeth letting his head drop, letting you see the depths of despair you had left him in. "Two years Y/N. Two fucking years...Why?" He finally gave into the conversation he had been avoiding for over a fortnight.
I...I couldn't cope anymore " you sobbed as you cautiously stepped closer to him with your hands out. " You were never here, I..."
" So it was my fault then?" He quickly interjected, shaking his head with a scoff.
" No! No Tommy" you hurried to correct him, gingerly reaching up to cup his cheeks as you turned his head to face you. " I needed your help. I should have asked for your help" you sniffed as you desperately searched your muddled thoughts for the answers he rightfully deserved. " I felt lost, Tommy. Confused. I didn't understand why I couldn't do what other women did so naturally, when all I've ever wanted to be, all I've ever dreamt of being was a mother. And I couldn't do it, Tommy. I couldn't fucking do it!" You broke down, your fingers grasped tightly onto the front of his shirt. " I'm sorry, I'm so sorry..." you wept loudly, your body shaking furiously from the heartache you had put both yourself and your family through with your actions.
Unable to withstand the torment of seeing the woman he loved so broken, so fragile, he pulled you into his chest, wrapping his arms tightly around you as he placed a pressing kiss to your head.
" You were doing it though. You couldn't see it, but you were doing everything any mother would have done, sweetheart" he sighed, threading his hand through your hair as he closed his eyes, his longing body starved of your warmth loosening in the comfort of you. "I should..." He sighed as he looked up at the night sky, a gentle breeze drifting past him cooling his simmering temper. " I should have been there. Done more" he said as he cupped your head to look at him. " I should have done more Y/N" he reiterated as his thumb swiped over the tears pooled above your cheeks.
" Forgive me Tommy...please" You sobbed, pressing your forehead to his as you linked your hands tightly around his neck, desperately holding out for his forgiveness.
" I've never had a reason to, darling" he sighed, cradling the side of your head against his thundering heart, his love for you beating rapidly through his chest. For as much as Tommy's troubled mind had put the brunt of your shared problems on your shoulders alone. His heart never betrayed him, never stopped loving you, never once blamed you for the troubled emotions he knew were out of your reach of control.
As you both sat down on the step of the marble headstone, you rested your tired body in your husband's strong frame as he looked up at the glittering sky, silently thanking the unknown for the peace he finally felt having you wrapped in his arms once again. But Tommy's peace would be short-lived. A storm was coming to Arrow house, its maker watching from the window of her room as her face twisted with fury, her bitter mind gleeful of the hell she would bring down on this grand house and everyone in it.
" You fool Thomas Shelby. You fool..
PART FIVE
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evita-shelby · 8 months
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Happy wife, Happy life
Or Tommy gets drunk and assumes his wife is someone else so he sleeps on the floor instead
For @runnning-outof-time with the prompt 34) “I didn’t get your name.”
Gif by @cillianparadise
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The sight of Tommy, this new Tommy who is always in control at all times, drunk as hell and stumbling into the bedroom, is a sight for sore eyes.
It is the old him, the one who laughed and loved horses and had ambition but not the sort to get you murdered by the Crown's most evil men.
“Did you have fun tonight, love?” You ask as your husband of four years stripped down to join you in bed.
“Sorry, sweetheart, I am sure you’re a catch, but I got a wife.” He answers, perfectly serious too and lies down on the floor after taking his pillow with him.
You can’t help but laugh and tease him. Not like he’ll remember this tomorrow.
“Oh, so you’d rather sleep on the floor instead of your bed, Mr. Shelby?” you ask letting you arm hang over the edge of the bed and just low enough to bop his nose.
He hates it, and rolls his eyes at your immaturity.
“Yeah, happy wife happy life.” Tommy responds as if it made all the sense in the world.
Good boy, you say and he thanks you for the praise and rejects your advances while he’s at it.
“What if I told you your wife was in bed and can’t sleep without you with her?” you ask while you lightly pester him in ways only you did.
“Mhm, she’d shoot me if she caught me in bed with another woman, especially you.” He turned on his side and you paused as you raked your fingers through his mop of dark hair.
You.
Was there another tramp trying to woo him away from you?
You knew from the beginning that every woman here would sign off on their firstborn to be in his bed, and sell their soul to the devil to be in your shoes.
You were jealous, so much so that when he left for France you told him he could fuck a whore so long as you got to fuck a fella in return.
Your threat saved him from a bout of gonorrhea which Barney got from a whore who gave it to every man in the battalion save for Tommy.
“She doesn’t have to know,” you say keeping up the act so you know which woman you have to scare away from your fucking husband.
Couldn’t these ladies see the wedding band in his finger?
“She will, you aren’t exactly doing yourself any favors working in the pub, Miss. Miss?” Tommy faltered forgetting the name of the mousy barmaid. Looked like Jane Seymour , with that holier-than-thou face that got Anne Boleyn short of a head. “Sorry, I didn’t get your name.”
“Grace. Grace Burgess.” You filled in the blanks and knew you’d make the blonde bitch leave Birmingham and scurry the fuck back to Belfast or your name isn’t Y/N Shelby.
Part 2
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look-at-the-soul · 2 months
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Every little thing you do- Part 1
Tommy Shelby x reader
Series Master list
✨So first part is finally here!! Please be aware this part is set to happen in different days therefore you’ll see a little divider in the middle… and also! There’s violence. Please note I’m trying to follow the ideas/education from back in the day so it won’t necessary fit for today’s way of seeing things.
Word count: 2,977
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Waving her sister goodbye, Y/N headed outside. But to her surprise she found Scott stopping his vehicle.
“Hello sweetheart.” He greeted her with a quick kiss on her lips, she stepped back immediately in case her mother was watching behind the curtains.
“Scott, I wasn’t expecting to see you today.”
“We’ll I lied and said I felt sick to get out earlier.”
This wasn’t something he’d do, but she listened to his explanation.
“I wanted to see you.”
Y/N looked over her shoulder, her parents were strict.
“You know you’re only invited for lunch and tea on Sundays.”
“I know, I know.” He moved back retrieving something from the car. “Got you these.”
“I love them, thank you.” Y/N pressed the bouquet of flowers against her chest, the fresh aroma invading her, a smile growing in her lips.
“Why don’t you go back inside and put them in water? Then meet me at the bakery around the corner.”
“Where are we going?”
Scott gave her a wide smile that took her breath away. “It’s a surprise, you’ll like it.”
Butterflies got spread all over her stomach, the expectation building. She hurried to the unexpected date.
“Listen, I want to apologize for acting shitty the other day.” Scott announced. “Can you forgive me love?”
Y/N nodded eagerly, pleased by his change of heart.
“It’s alright, just be careful next time.” Y/N suggested as he drove.
“Careful?”
“You shouldn’t have talked Tommy that way.”
Scott rolled his eyes. “There you go again, defending him. This why we fight.”
“No, Scott I don’t want a war between you two all the time, he didn’t like the way you talked to me.”
“Why does he always sticks his bloody nose in our business?”
“It’s not like that.”
“He’s always standing in the middle, I’m sick of getting orders from him, he leaves me the worst jobs just to please himself, he’s got people to do those things. I thought they wanted me to do other things, not to clean horses shit.”
“Scott I can’t interfere in your role among the gang, he already has done more than enough.”
“There it is, you’re defending him instead of being on my side…”
Y/N realized how unintentionally she always put Tommy on a pedestal, her boyfriend was right, feeling like he was belittled. She knew Tommy didn’t like him, and there was a possibility that she wasn’t impartial.
“I’ll see what I can do.” She finally gave in, not wanting to spend their time together fighting.
“That’s my girl.” He stopped the car on the sideway and began to shower her face with soft kisses.
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”Do you need anything else?” Lizzie walked around the desk, resting against the bookshelf.
“What happened with the contracts you couldn’t find?” Tommy asked leaning back on his chair.
“Arthur took them by mistake.”
“Keep those locked.” He pointed a finger at her.
“Are you going to Karl’s birthday party?” She tried batting her eyelashes at him, but Tommy wasn’t looking at her.
“Yes, in a minute.”
Lizzie looked down at him again, hoping he’d ask her to join him.
“Heard Ada bought a huge cake.”
Tommy took his briefcase and hummed nonchalantly.
“I wrapped you a present for Karl, take it before you leave.”
She didn’t get a response.
Giving up to her wishes to be invited with the Shelby family, Lizzie shook her head. Collecting the remains of her dignity from the floor.
Tommy followed her with his eyes as she stomped her foot on her way out but dismissed it a few seconds later, not understanding her attitude.
The office was quiet when he crossed it, everyone had headed home already and his family were already in Polly’s house.
This was the first time he left considerably early in a long time. The need to release some stress made him reach for a cigarette. He had a dozen of things to do, a trip to London in the upcoming days, visit one of the fabrics… before he realized, Tommy parked outside Polly’s property.
Karl’s celebration was a rare family gathering. For his brothers birthdays they’d usually went to camp close to the river and drink all night. He wasn’t used to paper decorations and chocolate cake.
A small figure crashed against his legs. “Oh oh.”
Looking down, he found one of John’s kids. Was this Kate? Or Barbara?
“Careful.”
“There you are.” John appeared with a sandwich in his hand. “Go with your siblings.” He instructed his daughter.
“John.” Tommy called him mysteriously, with his hand motioning his brother to step closer. “Wipe your fucking mouth, you’ve got chocolate all over it.”
Stepping into the living room, he joined his family.
“Uncle Tommy!” Karl ran towards him with his arms open.
Tommy rubbed the kid’s back and offered him his present. “Happy birthday Karl.”
“Thank you!”
“Looks like you owe me money Pol.” Ada chuckled as she helped her son open his present.
Tommy looked from his sister to his aunt, studying them.
“Damn it. I thought he wasn’t going to show up.”
“So you made a bet?” He asked in disbelief.
He usually wouldn’t. But when it came to his sister, he made an effort.
“Where’s Y/N?” Polly asked with a frown.
“I sent her the invitation, thought you’d arrive together.” Ada explained staring at her brother.
But Tommy shook his head. “No, I haven’t seen or heard from her.”
“Shit! Pol! Help me out here!” John shouted holding his son James in his arms, he was bleeding and crying. “Smashed his fucking head.”
As Ada rushed to get some clean towels, Polly tried to comfort the child.
Stepping away from the chaos, Tommy leaned against a column to think he actually hadn’t seen Y/N in almost a week. A million thoughts filling his mind, trying to find a reason for her to be distant.
He needed to know if she was alright because she had always been close to the family, she was always considered part of it to all their gatherings; she was there for them at Freddy’s funeral, at John’s wedding…
“Now that we’re here all together, I’ve something to say.” Arthur announced stepping on a chair, oblivious that Esme and Polly were taking care of a bleeding child.
As the room went quiet, Arthur announced he and Linda were expecting a baby.
“Congratulations.” Esme managed to blurr through gritted teeth. “Now help me hold James, because I need to rearrange his arm.”
As Arthur walked past Tommy, his brother patted his arm and mumbled a low congratulations.
But the thought of Y/N not being with them, stuck in his head.
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Y/N felt like sleeping on the couch. Her feet were swollen, Lady Winchester lost one of her precious earrings and decided to put everyone in the search until they found it under her vanity hours later.
Oddly her family decided to stay up late apparently as she could see the candles still on. But just as she set one foot inside, her mother pushed her abruptly.
“You’re a dishonorable daughter! We gave you everything!” One of her hands intended to land on her cheek but hit her on her ear instead.
“What happened?”
“Y-your aunt says you’re with a child, she saw you this morning and came to ask me.” Y/N’s mother was furious.
A woman came into view, her sister poking her head from the kitchen as her mother pushed her into the room next to it and closed the door. She demanded Y/N to undress and started touching her breasts.
“She’s with a child.” The elder woman confirmed, her hands still on her breasts.
Y/N’s face got paler by the second. Her mother gave the woman money and asked discretion.
A heavy silence filled the room, Y/N could hear a pin drop if someone threw one. Dizziness swept over her as her palms started to sweat.
“Your father will be so disappointed by you.” Her mother sentenced firmly. “You’re a whore, this sin will follow you from now on.”
Blood went to Y/N’s feet and she had to grab the vanity for support.
“You’ll tell Scott tomorrow and get him to ask your father’s permission to marry you before you start showing.” Y/N could hear her mother’s words as if she was underwater.
“I’ll save him the embarrassment, perhaps you can go to your grandmother’s house and hide there…” she was pacing the room as a maniac, Y/N was starting to process everything, she could hardly breathe.
“I didn’t know I could get pregnant without being married.”
Y/N’s mother laughed sarcastically. “It’s too late for that now, you should’ve waited until you got married!”
“You never told me this could happen.” Y/N felt on the edge of tears.
“I educated you with values, God only knows what you learned from that friend of yours.” Her mother mumbled something else Y/N couldn’t understand. Slowly she sat on the carpet, her skirt pooled around her hips and she finally sobbed. When one day Scott touched her breasts and it felt nice, electricity ran through her body. But he stopped right there. Then after taking her to the river, one of his hands sneaked under her skirt and moved her intimate clothes to the side and her body trembled. A week after that, he was about to start a fight with Tommy, for the night when they arrived after visiting Tommy’s new house. So in an attempt to make up for that fight, he took her to the river again and after kissing her, he told her he wanted to do something else. It had been over a month since she stepped in the middle of Tommy and Scott.
Y/N didn’t know she could feel such pleasure until he introduced himself into her body and she exploded of ecstasy. It felt right, he said he loved her and they went back a few days later.
Scott had said this should be between just the two of them, just as their love. But he never told her she could get pregnant.
Worry kept her up all night. She felt sorry for her poor father.
Covering her face with her hands, Y/N felt the tears rolling down her cheeks uncontrollably.
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“Scott,” Y/N breathed with relief, all the worry from the past days when she hadn’t been able to reach out soon, forgotten. “I need to talk to you.”
“Y/N… I’ve to rest, haven’t had a decent sleep yet. Can we talk about this another day?” He had been out of the city, busy with God knows what, but this was important for her, for them, for their future.
Y/N studied their surroundings carefully, trying to keep her voice from shaking she placed her hands on his shoulders.
“We’re going to have a child, Scott I’m carrying your baby.” She whispered.
Scott blinked unamused by the news, his nostrils expanding profusely. Y/N wanted to reach out, to throw herself in his arms but as they were outside his house, she had to control herself. Keep her distance with him and behave accordingly.
But when he took a step back, she felt confused.
“I-I’m… this must be a mistake.”
“No, no. There’s a baby growing inside me.” She repeated, keeping her voice down. “We’ll need to figure out about the wedding, it’ll have to be something intimate and soon before it starts showing…”
“I’m not going to marry you.” Scott scoffed. “How can I be sure this child is mine? You could’ve slept with someone else just as you did with me.” He mocked her.
Before she could stop herself, Y/N found her hand flying to his cheek. Her palm tingled after the slap she gave him.
“How could you say something like that?”
“Don’t you ever dare to fucking touch me again!” He snapped. “And as for this little inconvenient… I’m not taking responsibility, you’re on your own.”
He gave her a disgusted look and walked inside his house. Leaving Y/N turned into a crying mess, she was hurt and disappointed by his reaction and terrified of the outcome.
Her mother sent her to talk to Scott to arrange the terms of the wedding and now she just realized he didn’t have her back. But what was worse, he thought she would sleep around like a whore.
Folding her arms, she walked with her head down. Guilt and embarrassment written all over her face. How would she deal with this? How would she tell her mother what Scott just said? She had been so sure she’d be able to hide it from her father by marrying Scott but now she was left in the worst possible way.
She cried uncontrollably feeling defeated, it was now too late to do something, but at the same time she didn’t know how she’d take care and raise a baby by herself.
“Where’s Scott?” Her mother hissed when her daughter appeared in her eyesight.
Y/N couldn’t speak, something heavy made her walk slowly. Her whole world was crashing down and now she’d have to face the consequences.
“He told me he wouldn’t take responsibility for a child who might not be his.” As the words left her mouth, she started crying again.
“Of course he would say that! What did you think Y/N?!” Her mother exploded. “He must think the worst of you now, how easily you have yourself away to him!”
“He told me he loved me!” Managed to shout through her tears and sobs.
Her mother’s hand flew rapidly and hit her hard.
A heavy silence surrounded them. Her cheek was burning from her mother’s slap.
“Leave Y/N!” Her grandmother intervened.
“She deserved that.” Her mother explained, she was beyond angry.
Y/N’s grandmother wrapped an arm around her granddaughter protectively.
“What happened?”
“Tell her, go on… tell your grandmother what you did.”
Y/N kept her head down, she felt like she couldn’t look her grandmother in the eyes. She had failed them terribly, the values and principles they had showed her were thrown through the window.
“No? Well, I’ll tell her myself.” Her mother warned. “Y/N didn’t wait until marriage, she gave herself away like a whore and is now with a child. Couldn’t keep her legs closed.”
“Well we’ll think of something, she won’t start showing right away.”
“There’s nothing to think mother, Scott is out of the picture he didn't accept the responsibility.”
“But he’s as responsible as Y/N.” Her grandmother pointed out thinking this wasn’t fair on Y/N.
“Your granddaughter’s honor is right on the floor, he even suggested the baby isn’t his.”
Y/N saw her mother pacing around the small room, it was making her feel sick.
“And your father arrives tomorrow… should we send her with your sister to Durham?” She pondered the possibilities thinking of her mother’s sibling.
“Absolutely not.” Her grandmother defended.
“Then what? What are we going to do?”
Y/N felt sick and rushed away from them. Her head was pounding, her stomach in a tight knot and her heart shattered into million pieces.
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“Ma’am you can’t go in there.” Tommy heard from outside his office, then saw the door swing open.
“Mr. Shelby you’re the only one who can help me.”
Tommy rose to his feet in a second, the worry he found in Y/N’s grandmother raised all the alarms.
“What happened?”
“My son in law is hitting Y/N badly.” Her voice cracked, her hands reached for the sleeve of his suit. “You’ve to help her.”
Tommy took his coat from the rack and rushed to see what was happening.
“John, get Polly and meet me in Y/N’s house.” He demanded.
“I’ll go with them Mr. Shelby.” Y/N’s grandmother expressed, not wanting to make him wait.
Tommy doubted for a second, but with her hand, the elder woman ushered him, so it must be serious. Stepping in Y/N’s house without knocking because he heard her cries and pained screams from outside, but Tommy wasn’t prepared to find what he’d see.
Y/N was in the middle of the living room half her clothes shattered, kneeling on the floor and her upper body leaned over a chair, her back covered by the belt marks and blood.
He felt a rush of anger and disgust through his body. Tommy could practically taste his bile in his mouth, but as Y/N’s father was about to hit her again, he stepped in his way, holding the man’s hand firmly in the air.
“You touch her again, and I’ll fucking kill you.”
“Stay out of this Shelby, I’m dealing with this whore.”
“Don’t make me repeat myself or you’ll regret it.” Tommy muttered through gritted teeth.
John joined him with a couple of some of their men, they went straight to hold Y/N’s father away from her.
Y/N winced in pain when Tommy tried to help her up.
“This is a family matter!” Y/N’s mother shouted disturbed for the interruption. “You should respect that.”
“Yeah? Just like you’re respecting your daughter?” Tommy snapped, he lost all self control over this injustice.
“She has to deal with the consequences of her acts! Behaved like a whore, gets punished like one.”
Y/N felt her mother’s words like daggers to her heart. She wasn’t sure what felt more hurtful; her father’s hitting her with his belt or her mother’s words.
Tommy felt like throwing up, he apologized when he got Y/N in his arms and she complained from the pain.
“You can’t take her away!” Her mother warned, trying to stop Tommy.
He gave her a warning stare and mumbled; “watch me.”
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Part 2
Divider
Tag list: @lyarr24 @runnning-outof-time @cillmequick @datewithgianni @cloudofdisney @gretelshelby @garrison-girl-08 @lespendy @onlydeadcells @fastfan @stevie75 @prettylittlehoneyeyesxoxo @esposadomd @forbidden-forest-witch @ange-thoughts @moral-terpitude @elenavampire21 @forgottenpeakywriter @thenattitude @winchestergirl22 @zablife @elk96 @blondie-22 @imichelle-l-rigby @allie131313 @already-broken144 @peakyscillian @babaohhhriley @shelbydelrey @shaddixlife @sloanexx @sydneyyyya @lau219 @adaydreamaway08 @pono-pura-vida @thomashelbyswife @darleneslane @lauren-raines-x @everythingelseisextra @kmc1989 @red-riding-wood @lovemissyhoneybee @theendlessvoidofdarkest @wannabeperfectionists-blog @yeppaweshallsee (can’t tag) @shydysneylover (can’t tag) @holacia3 @galactic3a @mysticalbouquetwolf-posts @ietss @abaker74 @natalie--rushman @elliaze @withyoutilltheendofthismess
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mayfieldss · 2 months
Text
Your needs, my needs - Thomas Shelby
Summary: after a particularly rough day, tommy needs you more than ever.
Warnings: mentions of blood and slightly suggestive content.
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The day was coming to a close when Thomas finally found enough peace to walk home. The light from the sky was falling slowly from view, and the gravel beneath his feet held no comfort to any of the steps he took, but he traveled on nonetheless, back home to you.
He was desperate for it, your touch. After the day he'd had, he craved it like a drowning man prays for oxygen, and he pushes himself through your front door with such a force you'd thought a gunshot had been fired.
"Y/N!" Tommy calls, his voice echoing in the empty stairwell. He's about to make his way up said stairs, when you appear, a look of concern upon your face.
"Tommy? What's happened?" You take each step quickly, stumbling down the last few in your rush, but Tommy is there and ready to steady you. The instant his hands meet your body, he can feel each nerve in his muscles loosening. As if his hold on you releases their hold on him.
"It's good to see you." Tommy mutters, eyes raking over your features, fingers digging into your sides soft enough for you to be comfortable, but strong enough for him to know you're really there.
"Thomas, your bleeding." Your hand comes up to his forehead, the cut there leaking red slowly, though Tommy doesn't care. How can he when your eyes are on him in such an affectionate way, as though he isn't the monster he's painted himself to be? You make him feel like maybe his pain is just that. Paint, that he can wash away, and as it runs down the drain, maybe then he will be good enough for you.
He brings one hand up to the back of your neck, thumb grazing over your earlobe as he feels a shiver run through you.
"Tommy, you're hurt. You're not thinking straight." You're being stern with him, but your touch says otherwise, and you both know it.
"I'm thinking perfectly well, sweetheart." He's never kissed you before, never touched you in the way he is now, but he's thought about it long and hard for months, wondering when his resolve would fade. Perhaps today is that day because his eyes can't help but flicker downward to your lips. Yours do the same to his.
"You're an anchor," Tommy moves closer as you lean into the touch of his hand on your cheek. "And I'm a fucking shipwreck."
"I didn't think Thomas Shelby was a man that could be tied down. He's always on the move, isn't he?" You're whispering, breath fanning over him, and you can feel his hand on your hip slide round to the small of your back, begging you closer, hoping you'll take the steps.
"Perhaps some things can change."
You don't believe him in the slightest. Tommy can't be still. He can't simply love you in the way you could him if given the chance. And he might try, but his efforts end up wasted, washed away by the fact business is the forefront of his mind.
"You don't want to change, Tommy. That's the last thing you want."
"I think I can be the judge of what it is that I want." He's feeling dizzy, his body swaying briefly without his permission, and you pull back from him when you notice it.
"You need to sit." Tommy doesn't have a choice in the matter because you've taken him by the hand and are leading him to the living room. You'd decorated it nicely, wooden furniture and a quilt covered sofa that you force him to sit upon.
"Rest, Tommy." You say when he tries to coax you back toward him. He can still hear the ringing in his ears from the gunfire earlier that day, the wet thunk of his fists on bloodied flesh.
"Dont need rest, love." He's pushed himself up from the sofa, closing the gap between you. His chest rises and falls opposite to your own, and his hands have found your hips once more. "I know what I need. I think we both do."
"What you want and what you need are very different things, Tommy. You need to rest." You tell him again, though he's being more distracting now. His lips have come down to leave a kiss below your ear, his voice gravelly and quiet
"Right now, I just need you fucking close to me." He takes a few steps back, allowing himself to fall into the sofa, and with his hands on your hips he guides you into his lap.
You allow it and stare at him from the new position, concern crossing your features. Concern not for Tommy now, but for whether you'll be able to stop thinking about him if you give in. You'd thought about it nearly as much as Tommy, but you held more restraint than the peaky blinder that now had a hand running through your hair.
"Tommy—" you don't know what else to say, stopping to think about it. Not that it's easy to think with his lips on your neck.
"If you want me to go, say it. But I've had a rough fucking week, and something tells me you have too." His eyes seem a harsher blue than before, they glow in the low light of the room, and you can't deny yourself of this. At least not now.
So you kiss him, and allow his hands to roam. You let yours do the same, tugging at his coat, his vest, his shirt. And Tommy loves every minute of it. It's like the snow the boys are so addicted to, seeping into his bloodstream, and he's high on energy again, even after the long day. He was right, you were the cure he needed to empty his mind, to bring him back to the present. The waiting game he'd played with you for so long, has melted away, and with every lingering touch Tommy knows his place is here. Until the next fight he has, the next pile of business he's forced to battle his way through, he can tangle himself up in you, and allow himself the affection he so rarely receives.
-
AN: I didn't know where this fic was going, so i ended it here. No plot, just vibes. Slut era.
PEAKY BLINDERS TAGLIST:
GENERAL TAGLIST: @candywh0r3 @caplanreadss @hiya-itsamber @s00buwu
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jomarch-wannabe · 2 months
Text
My hero
Tommy Shelby x Fem!Reader
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Warnings: light angst, arachnophobia, brief allusion to smut
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The silence of the evening air shattered suddenly by a high pitched shriek, echoing through the walls of Arrow House.
Tommy was in his study when he heard the sound of your terror. Blood rushed into his ears, thumping with his pulse as he jolted from his seat, running towards the source of the sound. His chest tightened as he ran up the stairs, his breath coming in quick gasps. He had so many enemies. He feared this day would come, that something would happen to you. He choked on the thought, freezing as his alert eyes found you in the doorframe of the bathroom.
“What is it? What’s happened?!” He yelled, taking you in with wide eyes. His hand twitched as he habitually reached for his revolver.
“There’s a spider in the bathtub! It’s huge!!” You cried, shivering in nothing but a white towel.
He let out an exasperated breath, feeling the air return to his lungs as he pulled his hair out of his face. “Christ. A spider? You scared the life out of me, love, I thought you got killed.”
A tinge of guilt hit your stomach, seeing how distressed he was. “M’sorry! I didn’t mean to scare you.. I just- hate spiders.” You murmured, the pads of your feet tip toeing against the floor as you approached him.
He knew from the pleading look in your eye that you needed him. As much as you scared the life out of him, he needed to be your protector now. Tommy transitioned into his stoic attitude as you walked him towards the porcelain tub, holding your breath.
“Ahh! It’s crawling this way!” You shrieked, colliding into his chest and cowering behind him. Your hands held tight to his shoulders, using him as a human shield.
Tommy smirked to himself, stepping towards the tub to investigate, pulling you with him. Your eyes dared to look over his shoulder. A quarter sized spider with a round body and quickly moving legs darted around the bottom of the tub.
“Doesn’t that give you chills?” You winced, ducking your head behind him.
He let out a breathy chuckle. “Grab me a tissue will you?”
You nodded, peeling away from him and fetching a tissue off the counter. Tommy smiled slyly to himself, reaching to grab the spider with an unfazed expression on his face.
“There,” he said, tossing the tissue into the trash can. “No more spiders.”
You leaned against him, resting your chin on his shoulder. “Oh Tommy,” you cooed dramatically, “You’re my hero. How could I ever repay you?”
A smirk teased his lips as he turned and captured your waist in his hands, gently pushing you against the wall. “I have a few ideas..” he spoke lowly, lips brushing against yours.
You flushed profusely at his proposal, feeling your towel drop to the floor.
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Taglist: @kmc1989 @pacifymebby @shelbydelrey @peakyswritings @call-sign-shark
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queers-gambit · 6 months
Text
If Speaking is Silver, Then Listening is Gold
a Turkish proverb
prompt: ( requested ) you require a bit of reprieve after the week you had, and Tommy's a gentleman.
pairing: Tommy Shelby x hard of hearing female!reader
fandom masterlist: Peaky Blinders
word count: 4.4k+
note: you hit me in the chest with this request. as someone who is hard of hearing (HoH) and progressively losing what they have left, this got personal.
warnings: author projects, mild angst, hurt and comfort, specified frustration, working with customers SUCK, mild violence, Tommy's a little OC 'cause he doesn't know what to do with emotion!
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"Excuse me! God, the service here is terrible! Aren't you listening to me, barmaid!?" The woman with polished finger nails slammed her manicured hand to the bartop aggressively, glaring at you as if you had backhanded her mother.
The sudden slap made you jump slightly, turning your head to acknowledge her before deflecting, "In a moment, ma'am, I'm trying to listen to this man's order."
"I've been trying to get your attention for 10 minutes now!" She argued, the noise of the bar dialed up as the night droned on and the patrons drank more.
"And I'm busy assisting other customers, I'll get to you when it's your turn," you reminded her, blinking at the man in front of you. "I'm so sorry, sir, I, uh, what were you saying?"
He sighed, "You don't remember? Or didn't hear me?"
"I couldn't hear you over the woman yelling at me," you snipped, perking your brows. "Would you like to order or should I move onto another customer?"
He scoffed, "Just get me a fucking bourbon."
"One fucking bourbon comin' at'cha," you rolled your eyes as you turned from the people to grab the bottles of liquor lined up behind you. You poured the man his drink, set it in front of him, and pocketed the bill he slapped in front of you - not offering change as you instantly looked to another customer. He grumbled with displeasure, but you were asking the next person, "What can I get you?"
"Uh, no, I'm next, I've been waiting long enough," the woman with polished fingernails insisted, literally pushing the customer out of her way.
You sighed, "Know what? All right, fine, what can I get you, ma'am?"
At that moment, the doors swung open and a new wave of drunkards stumbled in; the bar roaring to greet the newcomers as the woman ordered her posh drink that had no business being ordered in The Garrison.
"I'm sorry, what was that?" You asked, staring at her mouth in the hopes of reading her lips. She repeated her order, but her tacky lipstick made her lips stick - making it hard to read. "What? I'm sorry, ma'am, it's loud, you're gonna have to speak up."
"Are you fucking with me right now!?" She screeched, making your eyes widen. "You're the fucking deaf - you can't hear a simple order!?"
"I only asked you to repeat yourself," You defended.
"You asked me three times!" She raged.
"So tell me a fourth and shut the fuck up!"
"Hey, hey, hey," Harry stepped in, hand to your shoulder when the woman looked ready to launch over the bar, "I got this. I'll man the bar, you go on - there's some tables that need bussing."
You sighed and stepped back, nodding, "Sure, Harry."
You hated when he did this. Instead of defending you and your inability to hear - something you have no control over - he would always just push you aside and send you to do other chores. It wouldn't cost anything to tell the customers to calm down, it was loud in the pub and you had a hard time hearing as is - but nope! The customer was always right, or whatever bullshit he would remind you.
You were constantly accosted at work for your difficulty hearing clearly. It wasn't that you couldn't hear at all, it was just difficult! Sometimes, you could hear bits of their sentence and just inference whatever words you missed, but that wasn't an exact science. You mostly depended on reading people's lips, always hating asking anyone to repeat themselves; but at work, it wasn't always possible. The people you interacted with seemingly took personal offense that you had a hard time hearing, and each of them made their displeasure known. Again, a great time for Harry to defend you, but the older man didn't like rocking the boat.
You didn't necessarily blame him, knowing the Peaky Blinders kept a close eye on the pub and would probably reprimand (cut) Harry for discipling customers instead of firing you. So, you kept quiet about your displeasure over your treatment because you needed this job - you never wanted to give reason or thought that you were difficult. Maybe that was why Harry would send you off to do other chores, he didn't want you to lose your cool and this job. Though, some of these people deserved a good tongue lashing.
Picking up a spare pail, you went around to a few tables and cleared them of empty glasses before using a rag from your bucket to wipe them down for the next set of people.
Apparently, in that moment, someone decided to move past you, and to their credit, they did say, "Excuse me, luv, behind yah," but you didn't hear him. So, when you straightened up from cleaning the table, you took a natural step back and bumped into a body; gasping when something wet splashed over your neck, shoulders, and down your back and chest. "Oh, fuckin' hell, lass! Watch where yer fuckin' goin'!" The man raged, his empty glass shattered on the floor.
You blinked in shock.
"What? Didn't fuckin' hear me when I told yah I was there!?" The man continued to reprimand you. "Gotta fuckin' listen in a pub like this, lass, you'll cause worse fuckin' accidents!"
"I'm so sorry," you offered meekly, shaking the ale off your arms and glancing at your front to see it trickled in alcohol. You needed to take a deep, long breath before turning to head for the bar.
"What happened?" Harry asked when you arrived, looking mild concerned.
"Another spill," you spoke through a clenched jaw.
"Oi!" The man who dropped his drink all over you approached the bar, barking at Harry. "It's not our fault you hired some deaf bitch! That can't fuckin' hear 'round her! She didn't move from my way, I lost me pint 'cause of her stupidity!"
Stupid...? Did this drunk asshole just call you stupid because HE bumped into YOU and spilled HIS OWN drink? Maybe the money you made at the bar wasn't worth this...
Harry had no issue giving the drunkard another pint of ale as you tried in vain to dry off, but your dress, hair, and skin was completely plastered in sticky alcohol. You felt your eyes burn with stress, wanting to burst into tears and sob your frustrations out, but you didn't have the strength to break down right now. That's how tired and upset you were - you didn't even have the energy to cry.
You went about your evening, bussing tables and avoiding whatever customers you could; keeping your head on a swivel to avoid any other accidents. You felt a little better, but the stress still lingered around the bar; feeling as if the customers were glaring at you no matter what you did. When a natural lull came, Harry let you back behind the bar with the promise of staying near in case you needed him, but you were ready to drop.
Your final straw was about an hour after the usual Peaky Blinders and Shelby brothers had come in for the nightly round(s) of whiskey. You smiled at Arthur when he approached the bar, all too happy to greet you loudly - the lad never having an issue with speaking up when you couldn't hear. Arthur was always happy to accommodate you, having a soft spot for you since his brother, Tommy, had made his interest in you known that past year.
Speaking of, Tommy Shelby, notorious gangster of Small Heath and the head huncho of the Peaky Blinders, entered after his brothers and made an instant approach. "Harry," he greeted when he stepped around the bar.
"Mr. Shelby," Harry nodded.
"Love," he acknowledged you, pecking your cheek sweetly. "All right?"
"Hmm?"
"Doin' all right?" He asked clearly, being similar to his brother and not minding speaking louder, slower, clearer, whatever you needed to hear him better. In fact, Tommy wasn't know for being patient, but with you, he'd repeat himself as many times as it took - but only for you.
"Oh, yeah," you sniffled, trying to hide your frustrations.
"Why's your dress wet?" He worried, petting a sticky lock of your hair back, his concern mounting.
You shrugged, "Bit of an accident, 's not a big deal."
"Someone run into you, again?"
You nodded, "It's fine, though. He got a new pint and calmed down."
Tommy shook his head, gritting, "Who?"
"Tommy."
"Tell me who, love."
"No, Tommy, it's fine," you insisted, petting your hand down his chest in a show of affection; seeing another customer approach the bar. "I'm sorry, I'm working, love, can we talk later?"
He nodded, pecked your temple, grabbed a bottle of Irish whiskey and moved for the snug - where his brothers and Aunt Polly waited for him. You got back to work, and barely noticed the time ticking by... Until a new customer approached you with a sneer already marring his face.
"What can I get for you, sir?" You asked kindly, needing to raise your voice over the usual drunken yelling. So, you preemptively warned him, "Sorry, 's bit noisy tonight, you'll have to speak up."
The man ordered his drink clearly, but another few men in loosened slacks and disheveled button-ups stalked up to the bar; crowding around the other two men who stumbled over in obnoxious laughter. You felt your panic spike, already overwhelmed by them all trying to talk over one another.
You were bombarded with drink orders from them all, eyes flickering between them because you didn't know who to listen to first. You tried to get the drinks together at the same time, but in truth, it was overwhelming because the men changed their orders, but got mad at YOU when you didn't quite hear them clearly.
Their drunken words added to the bar's noise level sprinkled with you being hard-of-hearing just resulted in a cluster fuck. "This isn't what I fucking ordered!" The original man complained, glaring at you with distain. "It's really not that hard, girl, my God. If you can't get our drinks right, how you gonna make any man a decent wife? Gonna fuck up his dinners, too?"
"Jesus - I'm sorry, there's just a lot going on. Why don't you remind me your drink and I'll get it now," you offered as kindly as you could.
"I doubt you'll be able to get it right," he sneered, but you missed half his sentence.
"I'm sorry, what was that?"
"Are you fuckin' kiddin' me!? Just fuckin' listen - it's not hard!" He snarled, literally chucking his glass just past your ear so it shattered into the liquor bottles behind you. "You can't even get a fucking drink right! Fuck you doin' workin' here, then!?"
This caused a huge commotion, obviously.
The Shelby's don't play games, you see, and the moment the glass shattered, they were moving out of the snug to investigate. When they realized someone had offered you disrespect, it was a shit show as the drunkards clashed with the men with razors stitched in their caps. Still in shock from the show of violence, you felt something in your heart snap you into motion.
So, you silently untied your apron, grabbed your coat and home keys, then literally walked out the backdoor - while the men all scuffled. The moment you stepped outside, you let your emotional dam give out - sobbing into the stinging cold air as you moved up the street.
You weren't sure what emotion you felt - be it anger, disappointment, shame, fear... Crippling insecurity. Once at the Irish pub, The Black Lion, you settled at the nearly empty bar and ordered your own drink, something you rarely did anymore. Something about working with alcohol all day made you less inclined to drink, but tonight was different than previous nights.
"All right, lass?" The bartender asked, pouring the whiskey in front of you. "Look a bit put out, huh?"
"Just a long week," you answered. He hummed, nodding and asking something. You felt tears in your eyes when you asked, "C-Could you repeat that?"
Louder, he repeated, "Anything you wanna talk about?"
"Oh, no, thank you," you waved off. "Just... Customers being unruly."
He laughed, "Oh, don't I know it. What happened?"
You shrugged, "Nothing important."
"C'mon, lass, if it's made you come inta a place like this, searching for a drink, it's probably important enough."
You sighed, "Honestly, I think I appreciate the silence."
He smirked, "I can respect that. Here," he poured you a new glass, "this one's on the house. I deal with unruly customers, too, so, I know you'll need this second one."
You chuckled and grinned broadly when he went to walk away, did a double take, then left the whiskey bottle to your side with a smirk. He moved off to sit at a different table with some other older men, leaving you alone for the first time in what felt like a long time. It felt ironic for a moment that you sought solitude and silence, but you just wanted time to digest all that happened tonight and move on.
Why couldn't people understand that despite you being a public servant, you were still a human being? A human with human emotions, human disability, who makes human mistakes. Yet according to those entitled pricks that think YOU work for THEM, you were a second class citizen who was underserving of empathy. How dare you ask them to repeat themselves! How dare you misunderstand their order - and quickly replace it! How dare you have a disability past your control that affects your day-to-day life!
There was a heavy, looming feeling of being inadequate.
Being alive was hard enough as it is, more so when a bodily function most others take for granted malfunctioned within you. It made life harder; you had to work harder than everyone else just to operate on their same level. However, if you dare show exhaustion, frustration, any degree of weakness, you were quick to be labeled as "lazy" or "entitled" or your favorite, "dramatic!"
Those people can hear pins drop, they couldn't ever fathom what this felt like. It wasn't that you couldn't hear, you could. It just wasn't on the level other's could heard at, and for whatever reason, it seemed to frustrate everyone else more than you. You were the one dealing with the predicament, and yet, everyone else was seemingly the most inconvenienced! They thought it mortally offensive to be served by someone "like you", thinking your disability was unacceptable in their proximity.
Fucking assholes.
If only they knew the way your stomach knotted itself every time you asked someone to repeat what they said. Every time you said, "Huh?" or "What was that? What did you say?"
You were embarrassed because it made you feel as if you couldn't even be a human "correctly", and it's not like you chose for this to happen! It's not like anyone chooses to make the obligation called life ten times harder by putting you at a functional disadvantage. You felt like "damaged goods" because you felt constantly out of the loop; missing a lot of what's said if you're not paying explicit attention.
However, years ago, you had perfected the ability to read lips. Yet this was difficult when most people you couldn't hear were your customers, majority of who are slurring their words. You worked in The Garrison, meaning that on any given night, there was loud discussions that added to your frustration - but the tips were too good to quit. So you endured. You felt pathetic and borderline like a failure if you quit any job; feeling as if your disability had won by emotionally crippling you. So, while it didn't make a lot of sense to work in a noisy place when you're already hard-of-hearing, you remained at your place of employment simply out of spite.
It was difficult reminding yourself it wasn't your fault, that you were still doing a great job - no matter how many customers catch attitudes, get snippy, or throw full-on adult tantrums. You despised needing to be the "bigger person", but figured nobody else would be willing to accommodate you, so, if you wanted a semblance of peace, you had to be the one to create it.
You reached for the bottle of whiskey after downing your second glass. With a harsh sniffle, you glanced around the pub and realized how many people had arrived to fill in the place. You felt the hair on the back of your neck stand on end, acutely aware that you were so deep in your emotional tarpit that you missed the noise rising.
So much for a quiet night.
You poured a new glass, praying to whatever God would listen that you're granted deliverance from this empty, helpless feeling that was pitting your stomach and chest.
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After hearing the glass shatter, Tommy and his brothers were rocketing to their feet to investigate. They saw a man, red in the face, yelling hatefully at you behind the bar - liquor dripping off the shattered shelves from the man's bout of violence. There was no thinking for any of them. Tommy recognized you were in a predicament; striding forward first, and the chaos began.
It'd been a good bit since the lads had a good fist fight. No razors, no guns, no advantages - just bare fists and bar furniture.
It cleared the place out, and when the drunkard was hauled off by his companions, Tommy was wiping the blood from his knuckles. Harry frowned at the sight of blood splattered on the floor, shaking his head before calling your name - knowing you had some secret to getting blood out before it stained. However, there was no response. The Shelby boys all looked around expectantly, waiting for you to reappear, but it was evident by the way Harry searched for you that you weren't in the building.
Tommy placed a cigarette to his lips, just lighting it when Harry returned from the back room, informing, "Her belongin's are gone, she must've left early."
This made Tommy whip around sharply to use his own eyes and scan the room. "Nobody saw where she went? How was nobody watchin' her!?" Tommy asked demanded. There were several shakes of different heads, Tommy's anxiety flaring in his chest. He quickly rushed to grab his coat and flat cap, tugging them on in haste, hearing Arthur question where he was going. "Gotta find her," he explained through his panting-panic. "City's dangerous enough for people that can hear properly. God knows what can happen when she's alone at this time of night."
"We'll help," John offered, nudging Arthur, Finn, and their cousin, Michael Gray.
"I'll find her faster," Tommy answered, already out the door.
Michael shared a look around the room, wondering, "He acts like this all the time or just with that one pretty barmaid?"
Arthur smirked broadly, "That one pretty barmaid is Tommy's girl. Don't get caught lookin'."
"He's like this with just her," John chuckled, "always has been, always taking care of her the way she cares for him."
"What did Tommy mean? She can't hear?" Michael questioned innocently.
"Nah, girl's got some hearin', just not a whole lotta it," John explained as if common knowledge. "Never thought I'd see Tommy so patient, so fuckin' doting. He doesn't mind repeating himself if she asks, in fact, he does what he can to talk to her how she needs."
"What's that mean?"
"Like," John paused, sighing through his nose, "he'll face her directly, speak slower to let her read his lips. He speaks up, he's clearer, he wants her to feel like she's not a burden if she can't hear like us can so he does it all organically."
Michael smiled softly, vaguely impressed by Tommy's show of humanity. Speaking of, everyone's favorite gangster was prowling through Small Heath; stopping in each and every open business, searching for the familiar sight of you, and moving on when he was unsuccessful. You weren't at the Shelby home, nor your apartment, church, or anywhere along the Canal - places you frequent when overwhelmed.
Tommy was beginning to get cold, but he wouldn't say that. His determination would keep him warm, and even as the snow began to fall once more, Tommy hiked through the wind. Luck seemed to be on his side because when he entered the third pub, one he doesn't usually step foot in outside of evident emergencies, there you were; sat at the bar looking miserable.
"Thank God," Tommy breathed in relief, straightening his jacket and swiping his cap from his head. He approached your side and reached a hand out to the bartop in front of you, minimally startling you by announcing his presence without words. "Hey, love," he greeted you.
"What're you doing, Tommy? Blinders don't come 'round in here."
"We do when one of our own goes missing."
Your eyes rolled, "I'm not missing, I just needed a break."
"I know," he nodded, "but I'm here to make sure you get home safe."
"I don't need an escort."
"I don't think you do, but it's dangerous at night. You know I care about you and that includes your well-being."
"Oh, don't tell me, you're trying to play the gentleman card?" You scoffed, taking another swallow from your glass. "C'mon, sit down, I don't like drinking alone," you commented, "makes me sad, leaves me alone with my thoughts."
"We can drink at home, love."
"I don't want to go home yet."
"Why?"
"'Cause I'll have to explain why I got fired."
"You didn't."
"Huh!?" You yelped.
"You didn't lose your job," he assured softly.
"No?"
"No, not fired."
"Oh," you mulled over your thoughts, "that's good, then."
Tommy sighed and pulled his coat off to take the empty barstool beside you. "All right," he decided, going through the motions to stick a cigarette between his lips and light it. Smoke wafted from his mouth as he asked, "What happened tonight?"
"You already know, I'm sure."
"I want your truth."
"Doesn't matter," you refused, downing the last of the whiskey in your glass. You went to leave a few bills for your tab, but Tommy stopped you and covered it himself. Your eyes rolled and hand snatched the nearly-empty bottle of whiskey before heading for the exit.
Tommy followed not far behind.
"Love, c'mon, wait up," he grit, catching up to you and tossing his coat over your form, "you're gonna catch ill."
"I'm fine," your eyes rolled. Truthfully, the consumed whiskey in your system acted as an internal heating mechanism; warming your blood, wrapping you in a fuzzy grip.
"Talk to me," he pleaded.
"I just - I'm frustrated, okay?"
"Sure, all right," he agreed, "but why?"
"You don't get it, Tommy," you felt emotional, rounding on him with tears in your eyes. "You don't know what it's like, you can hear just fine, you can still see, you don't know what it's like to progressively lose one of your senses! The way people get angry for something I cannot dictate - it's like they're the one being vastly inconvenienced!"
Tommy nodded, just listening.
"And they crucify me for it!" You sniffled, feeling defeated. "Like I'm some pariah that will infect them with my loss of hearing. They treat me as if - as if I've asked for this, as if I'm doing it on purpose!"
"What would help?"
"Honestly? I don't know anymore, Tommy, but this town is seriously lacking in their ability to empathize. I don't know what I'm supposed to say or do - I get so angry now. It happens more and more, people getting angry or frustrated at me 'cause I need them to repeat themselves. What am I supposed to do, huh?"
He smirked slightly, but the sight angered you.
"Oh, fuck off, Tommy!" You turned from him, moving back up the street. "I don't need to laugh at me like the rest of them - "
"I'm not!" Tommy insisted, reaching for your wrist to halt you, whip you around, face him again. Both his hands extended to hold the area above your elbow, speaking clearly, "Listen to me. I was going t'wait, but I think now's a good time."
"Good time for what, Tommy?" You growled, now just wanting to go to bed and hide from your emotions; hide from people; hide from reality.
"I have a new job for you, in the company," he smirked. "We're still getting things structured, but why don't you step away from the bar and come work for me now? Help us build what's left, and then transition into your company job?"
You paused, just staring at him in mild shock.
"You're kidding me, right?"
"Why would I joke?"
"You're... Offering me, what? Some job as your receptionist?"
"No, I was thinkin' something a little more paramount."
"Like what?"
"Like Chief of Operations?"
"COO?" You laughed, "For what company, Tommy?"
"Come home with me, we'll talk all about it," he bargained, "but if you accept, you've gotta quit The Garrison, love. We'll need your head in the game, no other distractions."
You felt something in your heart crack, asking, "What if you lot can't stand working with me, too?"
"Because of your hearing?"
"Or, you know, lack there of."
"Love," he smirked, "there's nothing you can do - intentionally or unintentionally - that would make any of us distance ourselves. If we get frustrated, it's not because you can't hear - it's never your disability, love."
"So, if you get frustrated, it's just, what? My personality?"
"More than likely," He grinned, arm snug around your waist again to walk down the snowy lane together. He laughed when your hand rose to pinch his side; squeezing his rib tightly, causing him to flinch and grunt lightly. "Hey, hey, easy with that," he chuckled, seeing your happy smile. "You all right, love? I know tonight was a lot, but... You feelin' any better?"
"I think so," you sighed. "The whiskey helps," you joked, raising the bottle to your lips.
"Mhm," he mused, taking the bottle after you.
"But present company helps more," you complimented softly. "You know, I'm sorry for today..."
"You're sorry that you couldn't hear a bunch of drunks in a packed-out pub?"
"Maybe?"
Tommy smirked, "Don't apologize, sweetheart. It's not your fault; like you say, it's not something you can control. I'm the one who's sorry you had to endure all of that... The lads got that guy pretty good."
"Good."
"And now you've a new job, yes?"
"After I hear about it," your eyes rolled in humor, taking the bottle back. "What's this big idea for a company anyway? What's it even called?"
"The Shelby Company Limited, and we're gonna change the whole of England, love."
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requesting rules and masterlist
Peaky Blinders masterlist
674 notes · View notes
springtyme · 5 months
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𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐟 𝐒𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡 ♡
In a world where trust is earned and betrayal met with swift and ruthless consequences, you'll do anything to protect your family, even if that means you'll have to do the unthinkable, marrying the criminal kingpin of Birmingham, Thomas Shelby.
Tommy Shelby x reader || Series playlist || Main masterlist
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Chapter 1 Family Business coming soon
Chapter 2 Long Live The King
Chapter 3 Peonies and Razorblades
More chapters to come
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cilliansdove · 2 months
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BLEEDING HEART || tommy shelby oneshot
pairings: tommy shelby x fem!reader
warnings: violence, angst, comfort,
summary: Y/n had been struggling with her husband distancing himself from her. In the heat of the moment, tommy breaks down and tells her what’s going on.
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
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The moon hung low in the sky, casting an eerie glow through the silk of the curtains. Tommy still hadn’t come to bed, which wasn’t odd- just…lonesome. Again.
I tugged on the material of my nightgown as I stared at myself through the mirror. I felt useless without Tommy. Didn’t know what to do with myself.
And every time I tried to communicate with him, he’d push me away as though I meant nothing to him.
I thought about trying again tonight…
With a hard knock, I waited outside the door to his office.
I heard his gruff voice answer back, “Come in.”
My heavy feet dragged me to the front of his desk, and I could already feel the tears in my eyes.
Tommy blew out the smoke from his mouth and looked up at me through his glasses.
“What’s the matter, Love?” A frown appeared on his face.
I took a deep breath in, “Did I do something…?”
“What’d you mean, Love?” He looked at me with a frown and nodded at his lap, “C’mere, Doll.”
I made my way over to his lap and sat comfortably on it, whilst I leant my head on his shoulder and played with my fingers.
I felt his hands in my hair, stroking soothingly, making me hum.
Slowly, I looked up at him through my lashes, “Are you…okay, Tom?” I asked nervously.
“What makes you ask, hmm?”
I pulled myself up and placed my legs on either side of his waist, “Feels like you’re distancing yourself from me,” I tucked my face into his neck, “Have I done something?”
Tommy coughed slightly, “No, Doll, you haven’t done anything. But you should’ve told me how you felt sooner.”
I lifted my head from his shoulder and looked at him intently, “I didn’t want to say anything, because I didn’t know how you’d react…I didn’t want to upset you,” I whispered the last part, and brushed my nose against his.
In response, Tommy closed his eyes and let out a deep sigh, “There’s things going on, Doll. Bad things. Things your pretty little head doesn’t need to get worked up over.”
I rolled my eyes and got off his lap. In frustration my voice raises, “But this is what I mean! You just- you just completely shut me out! Why?!”
Tommy stood up immediately and paced over, grabbing my shoulders, “You’ll do as you’re told, Y/n, that’s the end of it.”
My heart ached in my chest, I could feel the pain engulfing me, but I couldn’t say anything about it- no.
“Tommy I…I just want to help you.”
His wrath burst and he threw a glass at the wall, “I don’t need your help!!”
I flinched in fear, watching the glass shatter across the floorboards. I looked back at him, with wide eyes and my mouth hung open.
“Y/n...just go to bed,” he rubbed his face with his hand and turned away from me.
I stared up at the ceiling, pushing the tears back in so they wouldn’t all flood out. I sorted myself out and then took a deep breath in.
“Where would you like me to sleep?” I asked softly.
Tommy scoffed, “In our bedroom.”
I nodded. However for some reason, my feet wouldn’t carry me back out.
Tommy had caught onto the fact I was still there, and he turned around harshly to face me.
“Get out, Y/n.”
I took a step forward till my chest met his, “Talk to me.” I shook my head but looked at him with a pleading look in my eyes.
He sighed and leant his head on mine.
“It’s not something I need to discuss with you. Now go.”
His tone was soft but stern. He sounded…exhausted?
In response, I nodded- just once, and then left.
I didn’t go to bed though.
Quietly, I went downstairs and sat myself on the sofa, with a glass of whiskey. I don’t know how long I had sat there for, speaking muffled words to myself.
The heavy steps that came down the stairs alerted me, and I stood up, plotting my glass on the centre table.
Tommy’s figure curled around the doorframe, and he frowned, placing his rough hands in his pockets.
“I told you to go to bed.”
“Well, I didn’t,” I snapped back.
He paced towards me and out of fear I  stepped backwards until my back had hit the bookshelf. A single book fell to the floor, which made my breath hitch.
Tommy gripped my shoulders tightly and stared at me with a harsh look in his eye.
I swallowed down my fear and bit down hard on my cheeks.
“I’m not going to tell you again, eh? Go. To. Bed.” His words came out like venom on his tongue, and I gaped at him intensely.
I writhed out of his grip and pushed him away.
"Why are you being like this?!"
My words came out strained and I felt the pain in my throat rise.
Tommy took a deep breath and then sighed through his nose, "Because...I'm scared, okay?"
My mouth hung open agape as I stared at him with teary eyes, "Tom..."
"Don't. I don't want your sympathy."
I walked steadily toward him and grabbed his tensed hand, "Tommy look at me."
His shame filled eyes met mine and I tilted my head at him, "It's okay to be scared, yeah? I don't expect perfect from you all the time, but hiding the way you're feeling is causing you to be more stressed. And I don't like it."
Tommy leant down to plant a kiss on my temple. In response, I let out a soft hum of content.
His hands trailed down to my hips, making soft circles on them. I leaned into him, wrapping my arms around his torso whilst I buried my face in the warmth of his chest.
It wrapped me in comfort. I hadn't been this close to him in so long.
"Stop shutting me out," I whispered softly.
Tommy moved his hands into my hair and stroked it gently.
"I will, Love. I will."
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mcumorningstar · 24 days
Text
A Rose By Any Other Name || Part Three
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part one part two
series pairing: tommy shelby x reader, hints of john shelby x reader, hints of tommy x lizzie
warnings: 18+ minors dni, implied rape (the aftermath so no detail), mild violence, typical peaky blinders content
summary: After a change of plans, you find yourself wondering why Tommy invited you to the Epsom Derby at all.
author’s note: I wanted to include the Shelby’s gypsy roots (however brief) but I do apologise for any inaccuracies. I have started a taglist for this series so let me know if you want to be kept updated :)
Tommy banged on your door late on Friday. At first, you worried you slept in but it was still dark outside. Slightly drunk, he walked through the threshold without an invite and leaned against the wall in the kitchen.
“I’ve got business in London,” Tommy’s deep voice rumbled in the dark of your house, “You’re to get the train to Epsom with Polly tomorrow at 9.”
“Polly?!” Your eyes widened and Tommy whispered, “Easy, ey, she can smell fear.”
An amused scoff escaped your lips. Tommy Shelby just made a joke. The pleasant rumble of his laughter softened your nerves. Tommy may be the devil by reputation but the man stood in your kitchen was... different.
“What’s in London?” It was a risk to ask but he was in a mood you’ve never seen before. There was a playfulness to his usual self.
“Arthur. Arthur is in London. May I smoke?”
You nodded and he lit a cigarette. Eyes trained to his every move, he was a vision in your humble living space as smoke fell from his lips.
“I’ll come find you tomorrow,” He pointed at you with his cigarette between two fingers and licked his lips, “You owe me a drink, remember?”
Failing to conceal a smirk, you raised your eyebrows at him and he turned to go, the shadow of a smile on his lips. You haven’t even fucked him and you were starting to understand Lizzie’s infatuation with him. He was unlike any man you’ve ever met.
The Epsom Derby was a magnificent spectacle; people with more money than sense flocked in the masses to the grand occasion. Everyone was in the best clothes, ready to indulge in a long day of drinking, dancing and gambling.
Alongside you, Polly strutted around the place as if she was King George himself and you meekly followed, taking in the extravagant sites.
“Chin up,” Polly grinned around her cigarette as you walked through the Derby, “Don’t let these bastards think they’re better than you. You’re a Blinder today.”
Lost for words, you accepted that fate and wondered if Tommy told her why you were there. From her statement, he must need you for a business dealing but that still didn’t make sense.
Why would he require your amateur assistance on one of the most important days of his career?
Stopping by a white fence, Polly scoped the area. Racehorses were displayed on the other side of the fence, trotting by with their trainers holding the reins.
Among the crowd, you spotted Tommy as he rushed down a set of steps with a blond woman in white and pink. A risky colour to wear in a field. Was that May Carlton, the posh horse trainer Lizzie told you about?
“Are you going to lay a bet, y/n?” Polly asked cheerfully, although her eyes scanned the crowds in search of something, or someone.
“I’ve never gambled before,” You realised, making Polly laugh, “But why not start at the most prestigious gambling event in England?”
She smirked at that and looked over at you, “I see why he likes you.”
An inaudible sound fell from your mouth as you struggled with what to say. What did she mean by that?
“Oh there’s Lizzie and Jeremiah,” Polly pointed to the pair as they walked through the crowd.
Panic rose in your chest, pulling at your lungs until a sharp gasp fought the taut struggle for air. Polly turned to look at you, sizing you up.
“Lizzie doesn’t know I’m here.”
Polly rose her eyebrows at that, amused by how boringly ridiculous it was.
Sighing you looked over to Lizzie, “She can’t know Tommy invited me. I don’t why he did and I can’t have her thinking there’s something going on. And I could hardly say no to the devil himself.”
“I think this is the most women my nephew has ever juggled at once,” Polly sounded a little impressed, “He has his father’s devilment. Lizzie’s a fool if she hasn’t realised it yet.”
Taking a deep breath, you nodded and listened to her. Tommy looked around fruitlessly before heading up the stairs with Lizzie a few steps behind.
Jeremiah disappeared into the crowd again before Polly called his name. The man approached with a warm smile.
“Jeremiah, this is y/n. I’ve some business to attend to so would you be kind enough to accompany her? You can look away when she lays her bet,” Polly addressed him but kept a comforting hand against your shoulder.
“Right this way,” Jeremiah smiled, gesturing through the crowd. Polly squeezed your arm and disappeared in the opposite direction. Jeremiah was a preacher, a friendly one at that, and so your nerves were at ease as you walked to your seats.
The race started and finished before you saw anybody else. Police officers left their posts and swarmed like flies on shit.
Now things started to make sense. The Blinders were burning other bookies’ gambling licenses, eliminating the competition. More money and business for the Shelby’s.
Bypassing the hysteria of the police and the indifference of the toffs, you made your way to the bar.
The blonde woman in pink and white stood by the bar in a heated conversation with a woman in red. Are these the women Polly joked were being juggled?
Abort, abort!
As the bar was off-limits, you redirected yourself to find John or Arthur. Surely they’ll know where the man who invited you was.
Sitting at a rickety table was the two Shelby brothers and Lizzie. Her glassy eyes caught you before you saw her.
“Y/n?” Her voice was weak and her hair fell in front of her face. A cigarette hung from her fingers, hands shaking as she held it to her lips.
Arthur’s thunderous voice, fuelled by the cocaine he was lining up, overpowered Lizzie’s meekness.
“What you doing here?”
Fuck it. Lizzie’s seen you now.
“Ask your brother,” You took a seat, “Fuck knows why, haven’t seen him all day.”
Lizzie glanced across the table at you, her head hung low but her eyes now fixed on you. A croaky gasp caught in her throat and a wave of sobs spilled from her.
“Lizzie?” You dragged your chair beside her and rubbed her back, “Lizzie, what’s happened?”
Sitting closer, you could see a bruise was forming on her cheek and a bloody scrape stretched across her forehead.
John leaned over your shoulder, the warmth of his chest against your back, “She was working. Caught a nasty toff. We’ll get her home safe.”
His face was so close to yours as your head snapped towards him in shock. Genuine sympathy was in his eyes and a soft smile graced his lips.
“But-“ You began before Lizzie cut you off, her voice thick with tears, “It’s fine.”
Your brows pulled together as you watched her wipe her wet cheeks. Lizzie didn’t whore anymore. Her only exception was Tommy.
“Is he here?” You turned to John, who shrugged with a mouth full of whiskey. Sighing and silently seething, you helped Lizzie to her feet, “Let’s get you home.”
As if she was in a daze, she complied and she didn’t speak another word for the rest of the day.
Once John and Arthur dropped you off at home, Thelma helped you get Lizzie to bed. Her wide eyed stare bore into you, “What happened, y/n?”
But you didn’t have time to explain. Lizzie was in safe hands and you had a man to find. From the limited time you’ve known Thomas Shelby, he was entirely focused on business and, after an event like the Epsom Derby, you knew exactly where he’d be.
Dusk had long settled and the danger of Small Heath loomed over you but it wasn’t long before you stormed into Shelby Company Ltd.
The double doors to Tommy’s office were wide open, as he and Michael toasted a whiskey. In a fit of rage, you marched right towards him.
“Y/n?” Michael asked, his eyebrows pinched together as he looked between you and Tommy. Your eyes didn’t waver from Tommy, grabbing the lapels of his coat and shoving him against his desk. His glass tumbler fell from his hand and hit the wooden floor with a thud.
The open palm of your right hand met his cheek, clipping at his ear too. So swift and firm that his head shot to the side.
Shaking him, you demanded, “What did you do?! She can barely fucking speak!”
You slapped him again and shoved at his chest. It was nothing compared to his past pains, you knew that, but you didn’t care. Tommy grabbed your wrists and you were powerless to stop him. He simply held you there as you struggled in his grip.
Michael put his glass down and approached you with his hands in front of him, like he was trying to calm an angry bear.
“Y/n-“ Michael started but Tommy spoke, keeping his eyes on yours, “Leave us.”
Michael nodded and hesitantly left you alone. You stopped struggling, almost collapsing into Tommy’s chest at the exhaustion of the past few hours.
“Is that why you invited me?”
It was out there now. A question you didn’t know if you wanted to know the answer to.
“It wasn’t supposed to happen like that,” He screwed his eyes shut and met yours again, “The path was blocked off for the King. I got there as soon as I could.”
He was telling the truth. Genuine remorse.
“Is that why you invited me?” You repeated with a sign, resigned to your fate.
Tommy let go of your wrists and wrapped his arms around your waist. As soon as his hands landed on your back, you shoved them off and stepped back.
“You,” You spluttered at his nerve, “You seriously think that’s appropriate for this conversation? I’m not going to be another woman on the roster.”
“Ey?”
“The woman in pink and white? Was that May or was that another woman at your beck and call? Lizzie’s on there too but rule me out,” The finality of your statement crumbled slightly as you caught his eyes.
Tommy cleared his throat and, when you crossed your arms over your chest, he sighed and said, “I dreamt of a deer, walking along Garrison Lane. The next night I met you.”
“I don’t..?”
“Polly says a deer in a dream is a good omen. That gentleness and innocence will cross your path.”
“Are you suggesting the deer meant me?” Your jaw was slack as you tried to grasp what he was saying. Tommy tilted his head to one side in a non-committal display of likelihood.
“But I’m a whore and I slammed a door in your face.”
“Polly is rarely wrong.”
Tommy reached for you and pulled you closer once again. You weren’t touching but you could feel the warmth emanating from him. Calloused hands cupped your face and blue eyes held you hostage in his gaze.
“It wasn’t supposed to happen like that and you were never going to be involved.”
Foolish as it may be, you believed him.
Dried blood spread across his temple caught your attention, “You’re bleeding Tommy.”
He brushed it off as your fingers delicately held his face to inspect the cut. It wasn’t deep but you kept your eyes trained to it as you spoke again.
“Why did you invite me?” Another bold question you were scared of knowing the answer to. A man like Tommy Shelby wasn’t accustomed to being questioned.
“You’re my good omen. We took Epsom,” A soft smile graced his lips, his thumb stroking over your cheekbone, making you meet his dizzying stare.
You were speechless. The Shelby’s are a gypsy family so his superstitions made sense, but is he sweet on you because of the dream or is this rooted entirely in his superstition?
Rendered a fool by his bright eyes and soft touch, you asked, “Who were the other women?”
Tommy pursed his lips, “Nobody worth your time.”
“If I’m gonna be your good omen, I need to know the truth,” You said softly, resting your hands on his stomach. Tommy fought a smile, wrapping his large hands around your biceps.
“May trains my horse. She deserves better than me,” Tommy’s voice rumbled lowly between you, “The woman in white and pink, is Grace. She’s married, sailing back to New York with her rich husband.”
There was resentment behind his words. Interesting that she returned to him now that he’s rich.
“She said she loves me, not him.”
Standing there in his office, between his legs as he sits on the edge of his desk, you wondered how many others had been in this position. How many women were weak to Tommy Shelby?
“So why is she sailing away?” Your fingers idly fiddled with the buttons of his waistcoat.
“Because I told her to,” Tommy was no longer touching you, his hands busy lighting a cigarette.
“You don’t love her?”
Tommy gave a short laugh at that, “She’s of the past. I do not concern myself with matters of the past.”
“Maybe if she’d been in your dreams..” You teased, hoping his guard was lowered around you. Tommy laughed, his blue eyes glistening, and pulled you closer, “You may be my good omen but don’t push it.”
His strong arms wrapped around your waist, securing you in place. A tension lingered in the silence between you and Tommy’s gaze drifted to your lips.
You were here to punish him, to hurt him for hurting Lizzie. Poor Lizzie… and you were here, a devilish smile and a compliment away from letting Tommy Shelby kiss you. What were you thinking?
Breaking you out of your stupor, you blurted, “I should go.”
Like Icarus and the sun, your resolve began to melt away. Tommy rose to his feet, your bodies now pressed against each other.
“I’ll drive you,” Was all he said.
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mystcldydrms · 7 months
Text
ALWAYS ON YOUR SIDE - TOMMY SHELBY
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prompt: "I'm always on your side." - requested by @peakyswritings
pairing: tommy shelby x fem!reader
word count: 1.2k
warnings: none (let me know if you find any)
notes: I haven't written for tommy in forever. I really missed it. I hope you all enjoy this.
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The door to your husband’s office stood ajar. You could see the light from the room illuminating the darkened hallway as you made your way towards the room. Once you stood in front of it, you peeked inside, seeing Tommy with his face in his hands, his elbows propped up on the desk.
If he knew that you were watching him, he would sit up properly. He would show you his strong side and not the vulnerable one he was presenting now. Of course, you would see right through him. You have been married for quite some time, and even before your marriage, you had been friends for years.
You watched Tommy for a little while longer, thinking he would move, but he stayed in that exact same position.
A sad sigh left your lips. You smoothed down your nightgown before you lifted one of your hands, and knocked on the door.
You didn’t enter the room right away. You waited for your husband to say something and when he did, you opened the door properly. His elbows weren’t propped up on the desk anymore. He had smoothed down his hair, his eyes looking intently to the door until he noticed it was you. His eyes instantly softened, a small smile gracing his lips while you closed the door behind you.
You walked over to where he was, not stopping at the chair that was lined up in front of his desk. You walked around it, so you could be close to your husband.
“Isn’t it a bit too late for you to still be awake?”
You raised your eyebrows, an amused smile on your lips as you shook your head. You dropped a kiss on the top of your husband’s head before you moved to stand behind him, your hands finding his shoulders. You started massaging his shoulder blades, an almost inaudible groan leaving his lips.
“I can stay up past midnight.”
“Barely.”, Tommy stated, earning him a light slap against his upper arm before you returned to your previous action.
“The question is, why are you still up? Two hours ago, you told me you would join me in bed soon.”
You could feel Tommy tense up a little bit. You tried to ease him up again by massaging not just his shoulders but also his neck. You knew it helped him, yet his eyes kept staring straight ahead. Something was bothering him.
“Tell me, love. You know you can talk to me.”
You pressed your lips lightly against his neck, kissing him gently before you removed yourself from him. Nevertheless, you stayed close to him. You leaned against his desk, looking him deep into his blue eyes, waiting for him to talk to you.
“It’s nothing.”, he said, although he knew it wouldn’t convince you. Tommy didn’t want to disturb your peace with his schemes and business.
He took one of your hands in his, his fingers lightly playing with yours before he pulled you on his lap. You smiled up at him, his lips pressing a loving kiss on yours.
Oh, how you loved having Tommy to yourself. Your husband was a different man when it was just the two of you. Once his family joined you, he would change, not much, but slightly. And when you were accompanied by his business partners, he was even more unlike the Tommy that was with you at that moment. That was the Tommy you least liked.
“Will you tell me about it now?” you whispered against his lips, kissing him once more, his arms wrapped around your body, pressing you close against him.
“John and Arthur aren’t as convinced of our next project as I thought they would be. It’s not stressing me out, but it makes things a bit harder.” he finally confessed, and even though he tried his best to stay confident, you were able to make out the change in his eyes.
Although he did things on his own, he always liked having his brothers with him. He wouldn’t say it out loud, but even Tommy Shelby needed someone by his side from time to time.  
“I’m always on your side.”, you stated confidently, pressing another kiss on his lips. “So, if you need anything or you want me to be anywhere, let me know.”
Tommy immediately shook his head. His lips pressed kisses to cheeks before he took your face into his hands and stared intently into your eyes.
“I don’t want you anywhere near what I’m doing, okay? You will stay here. I want you to stay out of my troubles.”
You knew he was being serious. He had told you this before. But you wanted to help. You didn’t care about what could happen, however, Tommy knew better.
You couldn’t help but nod your head. There was no need to fight your husband. He would try anything, in his willpower, to keep you safe and out of his business.
His thumbs traced circles on your cheeks. A defeated sigh escaped your lips before you leaned in and kissed him again. This time, you didn’t pull away. Your lips moved in sync. You poured your love for him into the kiss, your hands roaming one another’s bodies.
“You’re very stubborn. I hope you know this,” you mumbled into the kiss, giggling lightly as you felt him squeeze your hips.
“I learned from the best.”
The two of you stayed entangled for a while, lips interlocked. Until you had to pull away to breathe. Yet you stayed close to Tommy, your foreheads lightly touching.
“I think it is time to go to bed.”, you said, getting up from Tommy’s lap. “You too, mister Shelby.”, you told him, pointing an accusing finger at him.
“Don’t make me wait again.”
“I don’t intend to. Who knows what you could do to me.”
Tommy winked at you teasingly, making you laugh. He got up from his chair, pushing it close to the desk before he made his way over to where you were.
You waited for him at the door, shrugging your shoulders before both of you left his office, walked through the hallway of your home and made your way to your bedroom.
“Oh, I won’t tell you what I do to you. That’s my little secret.”
You grinned up at your husband, helping him out of his clothes until the only thing he was wearing were his undergarments. You put your hands on his naked chest, gliding upwards to his shoulders until your arms wrapped around his neck, playing with the hair at the back of his head.
“But I know what we could do now. I’m not that tired.”
You took one step closer to him, his lips immediately crashing on yours. His hands slid to your thighs, lifting you up from the floor. Your legs wrapped around his body as Tommy moved you over to your bed, laying you down on it gently.
“Great idea.”, he mumbled against your lips before his hands slid under your nightgown. A moan escaped your lips, and you knew sleep wouldn’t come so soon.
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brummiereader · 3 months
Text
MASTERLIST
Unchained Melody (Part One)
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Summary: It had been almost two years since you had become overwhelmed by motherhood, fleeing from both your husband and son in attempts to escape the suffocating blanket of worries and self-doubt that had enveloped you. With a life now filled with poverty, you scrimp and save every shilling, every penny to make the costly weekly journey to catch a glimpse of your son from afar at the market. But your usual Sunday trip back to Birmingham suddenly turns your life upside down for a second time when you are unexpectedly faced with the presence of your husband and his refusal to let you do anything but return to Arrow house, back to him and your son.
Warnings: Language, angst, smut, mutual pining, postpartum depression
Word count: 4993
Authors Note: This series is inspired by another oldie but goldie, "Unchained Melody" by The Righteous Brothers. Tommy's feelings will be heavily influenced by the lyrics of this melodic and timeless song throughout the story. The song Y/N sings to William is an old British classic called "I do like to be beside the seaside" .
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"Calling at Birmingham New Street ladies and gentlemen, Birmingham New Street " the ticket conductor shouted walking briskly along the carriageway, going from coach to coach announcing the last and final call. One year, seven months and fifteen days. You thought to yourself picking at the frayed upholstered chair you was sitting on as a single solemn tear slipped over the curve of your cheek down into your lap, escaping the pools of your eyes too quickly for you to brush away. Not now Y/N. Don't start. You scolded yourself, not wanting to bring your fellow passengers' attention to your escaping emotions as you let yourself sink into the guilt you had been keeping tightly against your chest for almost two years, keeping it hidden from the vicious judgment and critical eyes it was undoubtedly worthy of as you did every Sunday you made the journey back to Birmingham, every Sunday you desperately tried to get a glimpse of your son from afar. Brushing the steady flow of tears from your face, you turned your head to the window, wiping the condensation that had built up on the tempered glass to see your reflection staring back at you, cruelly forcing you to see what you had become. Ragged clothing, unkempt hair and chapped hands, reddened from the countless hours you had worked night and day laundering linen for people that resembled your former self. You were unrecognisable, a far cry from the woman you once were, the wife and mother you once were. Broken and beaten, you were barely getting by with the hand life had dealt you. How had it come to this?
Nineteen and half months ago...
"He's crying darling. Y/N?" Tommy said, walking into the nursery after a relentless day in the city to find you in the rocking chair, aimlessly looking out the window as your son wailed loudly in your arms. You were starting to worry him. He'd been so occupied trying to make things legitimate for his new family that the long days he had spent with his head buried in paperwork were slowly turning into long sleepless nights stuck within the four walls of his office. The birth of his son had ignited an unstoppable force within him to keep the two people he loved the most safe and away from the wickedness of the world he himself played a role in, all at the behest and advice of those around him. He just had one more thing to do, one more thing to finalise, then he would stop. He'd promised himself.
"Tommy..." You muttered, blankly looking up at him as he took William from within your hold, the sudden quietness from his father's comforting warm arms snapping you out of your trance-like state. "He's hungry" you said as you picked up the small brown bear among all the various necessities needed to care for a child of only four months. "He just...he won't feed properly. Won't settle" you huffed, internally blaming yourself as you wiped the front of your blouse, reaching for your son, then suddenly recalling, afraid if you took him he'd start crying again. Was it you that unsettled him?
"He dropped his bear love, that's all. Maybe getting some teeth as well, ey little man?" Tommy said, looking at William as he tried to diffuse the criticism you were undoubtedly burdening yourself with. "Hey, c'mere" Tommy sighed, pulling you into his arms, pressing his lips to the crown of your head as tears welled in your eyes. You were slowly drifting away from him, he could feel it. But with Tommy being a man true to his time, he felt powerless as to what to do, what to say. Stiff upper lip, keep calm and carry on. The British way...maybe the wrong way. You'd pull through, wouldn't you? "We'll fetch him some warm cow's milk or a wet nurse, so you can get some sleep"
"No. No Tommy!" You angered quickly at the mere suggestion of anyone but you feeding your son, determined to battle through whatever it was that had a grasp on you without aid. "You think I'm a bad mum, don't you? You think I can't look after him?" you sobbed, your temper and fatigue spilling over into an angry display of pointing fingers and high emotions. You knew you were being unfair, you just...you couldn't help it. You needed an outlet for your mounting frustration, and unfortunately for Tommy he had the unlucky pleasure of being at the receiving end of it.
"Darling, I never said..." Tommy huffed, before you took your son back into your arms and your position in the rocking chair, your eyes fixing on a small light in the distance beyond the grounds of Arrow House as Williams bottom lip wobbled and his whimpers resumed. What would he do without you? Tommy reflected, a sudden feeling of guilt washing over him for all the nights he had spent away as he watched you in admiration, humming a soothing tune to his son, your fingers stroking gently over the curve of his ear and massaging the soft cushioned lobe until his cries quietened and he fell asleep. You were just tired, the small surprise weekend away in Blackpool he had planned in a few days time for the three of you would see an end to your worries. Sea air and sandy beaches, just what any doctor would order. Then he'd stop, he'd try harder. He'd promised himself.
" Fuck baby...you feel so good" Tommy moaned against your ear, his labored breath hot against your skin. "Let me make you feel good eh?" He said breathlessly, sliding his finger down between you both as he pressed on the small bundle of nerves swollen from his thrusts. Just relax. You told yourself. And for the love of god, stop fucking thinking too much. You berated yourself once again as you closed your eyes, a feeling of guilt pooling in your stomach from the little attention and affection you had given your husband since the birth of your son. One month since you were last intimate, one full month since you had let him get close to you. Had he been with someone else? Your brain quickly panicked at the thought of him with another woman when a hard thrust from Tommy had you moaning into his shoulder, your hands threading through his soft hair as he kissed down your neck sending a ripple of goosebumps over your body.
"Wait...Tommy not there" you pulled his head up as his tongue swiped over your nipple. "Shit" you huffed as a trickle of milk flowed down your cleavage whilst you frantically scrambled for the freshly laundered sheets to wipe away your embarrassment.
"Y/N, darling, it's ok" Tommy chuckled, kissing tenderly around your swollen breast as he rocked his hips into you, his thrusts suddenly intensifying when his eyes darted down to between you both. "Stop. Let me see you" he said, pushing your self-conscious hands away from shielding your stomach from the small scars you bared from nine months of carrying his child. " Fuck sweetheart...look at you" He moaned watching himself drive in and out of you, his wet length glistening, the sight sending a surge of pleasure through his throbbing cock. He's so into it. Why? Was he just saying these things, was he thinking of another woman? Your mind plagued you as you reluctantly kept your hands by your side. You felt like shit, looked worse than shit. That and your mind was elsewhere, to a never ending timetable of feeds and nappy changes you seemed incapable of getting right. As the room filled with the moans of your husband and the sound of his body basking in the awaited comfort of you he'd been patiently longing for, your eyes drifted over his lean shoulders to your suitcase covered by the netted curtains of your grand bedroom window. With the sudden fear that you had already made your decision, you turned your head to your husband, crashing your lips onto his as you held tightly onto his broad frame. Would this be the last time? The last time you felt the weight of his body on top of yours?
"Tommy..." you whimpered, a tear falling down the side of your cheek, desperate to tell him how much you were struggling as he gasped at your sudden eagerness, unaware of your inner turmoil in the throes of his own pleasure as a surge of electricity fueled by adoration pumped through his body, his imminent high quickly approaching. With every part of you clutching onto him, tightly clenching you both to a daze of heightened arousal, you let go, loudly crying your husband's name.
" Fuck...i'm gonna, Y/N I'm..." Tommy moaned incoherently into the curve of your neck as his fingers dug into the soft flesh of your thigh and his hips came to a sudden stop, releasing the built up tension he had been desperate to be rid of inside the tight warmth of your body with a shaky groan leaving his lips. "We've still got it eh?" Tommy chuckled breathlessly moments later as he settled down beside you, pulling you into his strong hold.
"Still" you replied quietly as you turned your head to look at him." I love you" you said longingly, your voice catching in your throat as you buried your face into his chest, hiding the shame in your eyes of the choice you knew you had made.
" I love you too. Y/N what's..." He said, tilting your chin up to look at him, cutting his words off and what he really wanted to ask, as the glazed over look in your eyes sent an uncomfortable heavy feeling of worry to the pit of his stomach. The far-away look in your eyes frightening him more than any enemy he had ever come up against. You were just tired, he'd call Polly tomorrow morning to come and help you with the baby. Tommy reassured himself as he held you tightly in his arms, his hand cupping the side of your head as he pressed a yearning kiss to your temple. This weekend would fix everything.
" Y/N...baby's crying..." Tommy mumbled half asleep as he rolled over, so used to you being the first to bolt up and hurry to your sons' whimpers. A dairy cow in human form, a living comforter to aid your son to sleep. You couldn't help but feel as you rubbed the fatigue from your dry eyes, another surge of guilt hurtling your way for thinking such things.
"Shhh darling, mummy's here" you said flatly as you approached his bassinet, picking him up and cradling him in your arms. "Please William, please stop crying. I'm so tired, I'm..." you sobbed, caressing his soft skin as you placed the tip of your finger to his mouth for him to suckle on. "What do I do? Help me William" you cried quietly in desperation, rocking him back and forth in your arms as you looked up at the ceiling, tears streaming down your face, your mind absent from the fact you were doing it, you were doing everything any mother would do in an attempt to soothe their child. Why couldn't you see it? "I don't know what's wrong with me" you sobbed to yourself, sniffing away the tears as you looked down at your son, his finger holding tightly onto yours as Frances the housekeeper listened outside the nursery door, her hand firmly enclosed around the handle, every part of her wanting to enter and magic your distress away. The thousand yard stare, they called it. She had seen it with her sister after the birth of her niece and then she saw it with you, the moment Tommy returned to work, popping your little bubble of the three of you lying in bed blissfully happy within the comfort of one another. She'd talk to Tommy in the morning. She promised herself as she backed away from the door, and back to her duties. She promised.
"Oh I do like to be beside...the seaside. Oh I do like to be beside the sea" you sang quietly, your bottom lip wobbling with each passing word. "I love you, I love you so much" you cried as you placed your son back into his cot, pulling out your handkerchief with your name embroidered delicately in the center for him to hold, hoping the scent of you engraved into the light fabric would comfort him in your absence." I'm sorry William, I...I can't be the mother you need " you sobbed as his little fingers clutched around the small piece of cotton. "Daddy will look after you, better than I can" you said as you bent down, placing a tender kiss to his head. "I just need a little break, a small one. I'll be back, I promise" Your voice broke, tears streaming down your cheeks as you gently glided your finger over his ear, caressing his soft skin and gently lulling him into sweet dreams and slumber. "Goodbye my love, my sweet, sweet boy" you cried, turning to the door and shutting it as a searing pain shot through your chest, through your shattered heart and the unbreakable bond a mother shares with her child, tearing and fraying from what you was about to do. Would you ever be able to come back from this?
"Come back to bed darling..." Tommy mumbled as you stood beside him, running your hands through the top of his hair, a quiet moan escaping his lips in response to your gentle touch as he lazily reached for your hand before his weighted eyes and tired body drifted him back into a heavy sleep.
"Soon Tommy..." You replied, muffling your sobs as you picked up your suitcase and turned to the door, glancing back one last time to your husband, to the love of your life. Meters away, it may as well have been miles. You thought to yourself as you came to the end of the long driveway of your home when the light of your son's bedroom suddenly turned on in the far distance and the loud call of your name from the depths of your husband's lungs resonated throughout the grounds. There was no going back now, it was done. They were better off without you.
Present day...
"Fuck sake" you mumbled quietly, hiding your face in your shoulder as you frantically wiped your tears away from the memory of the night when you abandoned your family and your former self. As you cursed yourself for being being so weak, so feeble, the small girl seated opposite you scrunched her brow in confusion, her little thoughts plagued with worry as to what had you so upset, as her mother, who looked as tired and weighed down with her own misgivings, sent you a sympathetic knowing smile.
"Hardly the time and place to let one's emotions get the better of them, this is public transport not a woman's bloody wash house" a man seated next to you clothed in the finest of suits grumbled rolling his eyes, begrudging the fact the train was not divided by class when the engine suddenly came to a stop and the mother ushered her daughter out of the carriage giving the gentleman a stern look, all while her daughter conveniently stepped onto, rather than other the pompous man's foot dirtying his perfectly polished loathers. "The little..." He spat as he folded his newspaper in half, turning to face you as if you had a role in the small girls worthy retribution. "Thiefs, whores and murderers. What would one except from this dump they call the second-biggest city in England" he seethed looking at you from head to toe as you stood to leave when he crassly stuck his foot out, causing you to fall face first onto the grimy train floor as a satisfied scoff left his lips. You were nothing to him, a beggar, the scum of the slums of the city he reluctantly found himself in. With no will or want to confront him about what you believe you undoubtedly deserved, you stood up, wiping the front of your dress down and adjusting your hat with only one thing on your mind...your son.
" Excuse me...please, excuse me" you said, pushing your way through the bustling market. You were already late, and with only the briefest of opportunities to get a glimpse of your child until another full seven days passed, and he made his Sunday outing with Frances again, you were desperate to see him. Standing by a stall filled with seasonal fresh fruits and juices you adjusted your woven hat, pushing the knotted strands of hair behind your ears in attempt to make yourself look proper, more presentable. Who were you kidding, you were but a ghost in a crowd full of people. Your disheveled appearance your only shield and cover from any potential sightings of yourself that could be relayed back to your husband. If he cared to know. You thought to yourself as you raised your head, your breath suddenly catching in your throat. There he was, your William. Watching from a distance, you followed his small wobbly steps, his hand holding tightly onto France's as the sun beamed down on them, heading with determination to the market stall he made a beeline for every Sunday. Perching yourself on a large wooden barrel next to a shelf of neatly stacked bottles of cider, you smiled as your shaky fingers came up to cover the joy on your lips as your former housekeeper picked up your son and showed him all the various jars of sweets and lollipops his wondrous eyes were beaming at. "Barley Sugars" you whispered, a small laugh leaving your lips as he pointed to his favorite and only choice of sweets whilst Frances tried to coax him into trying something different, when a smartly dressed man stood beside them turned around. Tommy.
"Barley Sugars again, eh?" Tommy chuckled, nodding to the stallholder as he reached into his pocket for a penny, smiling lovingly at the boy that resembled you more with each passing day. Wha...what was he doing here? You panicked at the unexpected sight of your husband, the last time being the night you had left him sleeping soundly in your shared bed. With shaky legs and your panicked eyes darting frantically around the market for any of his men, you slid off the barrel stumbling backwards into the shelf of cider, causing a small commotion of crashing glass and spilled beverages.
"You'll 'av to pay for that, miss" The seller frowned, waving his finger at you as he came marching around his stall to your trembling body frantically picking up the shattered glass, apologising profusely for the days' takings and mess you had made. With unsteady feet you stood up, your eyes cast down at the muddied ground, unable to meet the piercing stare you could already feel boring into you with every stifled breath that left your lips.
"Y/N..." Tommy whispered as he steadied himself against the wooden frame of the market stand, his knees buckling, his eyes widening in disbelief as time and everything around him suddenly slowed to an abrupt stillness, his ears deafening him with a piercing high-pitched whistle. "Y/N" he voiced louder, as the sound of the teeming market entered his muffled eardrums and your sheepish eyes finally met his." Y/N" Tommy called your name again as he pushed through the crowds of people, his eyes fixed on you as you started walking backwards, tears welling in your eyes from the panic firmly setting in."Y/N Shelby!" His voiced boomed into the crisp spring air, gaining everyone's attention, his brisk pace turning into a quickened run as he stumbled past people in a frantic attempt to get to you. "No! Don't you dare!" He bellowed, fear tightening in his chest as he watched you turn and run out of the market when he misplaced his foot and fell forward, tripping over the curb of the path as the end of your dress glided behind the corner of the bricked wall and out of sight.
" Shit...shit!" You sobbed running through the cobbled streets as you scanned the neighborhood in a frenzy of labored breaths and hysterical cries for somewhere to hide. What was he doing here?
" Hey, hey!" Tommy said, turning the corner onto the street you had been on mere seconds ago as he grabbed the arm of a young boy running past him with a hoop and stick in his hand. "Have you...have you seen a girl, in a...a dark red dress" Tommy asked breathlessly, whilst his mind frantically tried to make sense if what he saw was real, if you were real.
"That way, Mister" the rosy-cheeked child replied, pointing to a back alley leading to a row of terraced houses before running off to his friends that were patiently waiting for him at the bottom of the street. With shaky steps Tommy ran across the road, raising his hand in apology to a car and it's horn blaring at him from the near collision his dazed state caused. With his hands trembling, and his breath held within the tight confines of his burning lungs, Tommy turned the corner. And, there you were.
"Tommy..." You sobbed, backing up against the roughness of the slabbed wall as he stood in front of you, his own eyes welling with the unspent tears he'd been holding in for the past two years in an attempt to push away the reality of your absence.
"You're dead...I..." he said, his voice catching in his throat as he stepped closer, his brow furrowing in confusion at the acceptance he had surrendered to, now thrown into a disarray. " I.. I thought you were dead" he muttered in front of you as you shook your head, the back of his hand coming up to gingerly stroke across your cheek as the soothing coolness of his wedding band he couldn't bare to part with brushed along your delicate skin. But as the initial shock slowly started to fade, Tommy's jaw suddenly tightened and his gentle touch dug into your skin, his fingers twisting in anger as the creases of his brow deepened and the fury of feeling fooled took over. "I thought you were fucking dead!" He snapped through gritted teeth grabbing your chin, his grip painfully pushing into your flesh as he pressed his forehead to yours and his own tears spilled over between the curves of your cheeks. "Fuck!" He bellowed pushing your face away in disgust as he stumbled back to the wall opposite you, pulling his peaked cap from his head to cover his face as his body forced the contents of his stomach up onto the bricked floor. For months he had believed you had killed yourself, thrown yourself in the cut. And for months he blamed himself, burdening his body and mind with the responsibility of your death. The realisation and shock of you being alive was too much for his body to comprehend, even for someone as hardened to life as himself. " I thought you were dead..." Tommy wept quietly as he turned his head away from you, his reserved demeanour crumbling apart, leaving a man broken and tired from two years of heartbreak in its wake.
" Tommy I'm sorry, I..." You sobbed, approaching him as he put his hand out to stop you.
" No. You don't get to do that. You don't get to fucking say sorry" he sniffed back his tears cutting off your meek attempt to apologise as he stood up wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, his disheveled hair hanging over the perspiration sticking to his forehead." Why?" His voice wobbled barely above a whispered as he searched your eyes for an answer, his back pressed firmly against the brick wall to stop his legs from finally giving in as the adrenaline that had been pumping furiously through his veins slowly dispersed and fatigue took over.
" I couldn't do it anymore Tommy, I..."
" Mummy!" a little voice caught your attention as you turned your head and your eyes widened in disbelief at the sight of your son in Frances' arms mere feet from you, his little hands reaching desperately for you as Tommy watched your panicked reaction, a scoff catching in his throat when your eyes sheepishly darted away from your son and back to him.
"Mrs Shelby..." France's voice broke as her hand flew to her mouth and tears pooled in her eyes at the sight of you standing before her. For she believed as everyone else did, that the poor Mrs Shelby had succumbed to her troubles and parted from this world, now free of her tormented mind.
" Take William to the car, Frances" Tommy ordered turning away, adjusting his coat and demeanour as he breathed heavily through his mouth, every part of him desperately trying to regain some form of composure.
" Mummy! Mummy!" Your son wailed as your eyes brimmed with tears, and you apprehensively stepped towards him with your hands out when Tommy hurried between you both, and you came face to face with the remnants of his anger firmly etched on his face once again. He didn't trust you. Your initial reaction to seeing William not good enough of one for your husband who was now evaluating your every move, your every word.
" Mummy's coming, isn't she?" Tommy said, grabbing you by your arm as he waited for a response, his jaw tightening at every passing second as his patience grew thin, unwilling to let you go, unwilling to give you an option. "Isn't she?"
" Yes" you whispered, nodding your head as Frances hurried to the car with William wailing loudly in her arms.
" Look at you" Tommy said, glaring at you from head to toe, his words laced in disdain as he took off your hat, throwing it to the muddied ground with despise. Disheveled clothes, matted hair and muddied fingers. He had given you the world, given you a warm home, anything you could have wished for and yet you chose this, a life of labor and poverty over him and your son. With a mind clouded with fury, Tommy was doing what he promised he'd never do to all the gods he had prayed to, all his ancestors he had pleaded to if they would just grant him one thing, and bring you back into his arms. He was judging you.
" Wh...why is he calling me mummy?" you said, sobbing as you hurried alongside Tommy's quickened pace, his hand still painfully grasped onto your arm, dragging you with him to the car. William was only four months old when you left, he didn't know who you were, did he? " Tommy?"
"Just fucking move Y/N" Tommy said, opening the car door and pushing you in, slamming it behind him with enough force to frighten William into tears again. " Frances, please" Tommy sighed pinching his brow, his elbows resting on the steering wheel as William cried loudly in the back of the car. As Frances tended to your child, searching for his brown bear she feared he may have dropped in all the commotion, you kept your eyes fixed firmly ahead of you, your hands clasped in your lap not daring to look at anyone as shame engulfed you and reality hit home that you would now have to face not only what you did but everyone in your life you had left. Tommy had now plunged you head first back into a world you had abandoned without an ounce of sympathy or understanding, the anxiety of what awaited you was becoming unbearable.
Pulling up to Arrow house, the confines of the car were silent, and had been for the majority of the journey with William now soundly asleep in France's arms, the only audible noise being that of the muddied driveway of your forgotten home and the sound of Tommy's flesh gripping tightly onto the stirring wheel. He was furious, the moment he could have only dreamed of as he sought solitude in the pits of grief now engulfed with hatred. As Tommy and Frances exited the car, you stood seated, panic suddenly enveloping you, your body unable to move as you watched the familiar faces of the grounds men coming to a halt as they squinted into the car and at your face they thought they'd never see again. You wanted to run, not from the heavy weight bearing down on your heart but run from their critical eyes and the things you were sure you could hear them saying.
" Get out" Tommy said opening your door, pulling you out and marching you to the front of your once, shared home.
" Tommy" a lady beamed upon seeing him as she waited in the foyer, her dark brown locks cut into a bob bouncing on her shoulders with every step she took as your husband stormed through the grand entrance with your arm grasped tightly between his fingers. "And who's this?" she frowned looking at you from head to toe, her assumptions of you firmly setting in stone from your appearance alone. A thief no doubt, or a whore. She thought turning her nose up at you as her crimson nails curled into her palms as she crossed her arms, ready to have you thrown off the grounds or better, dumped in a ditch. You had no place in this grand house, in the house she was now not only the governess of, but a woman that the maids and workers believed had wormed her way into ruling the manor Tommy had abandoned his interest and care for to the grief of losing you. " Well, who are you?"
" She's my wife"
PART TWO
Tag List: @garrison-girl-08 @call-sign-shark @red-riding-wood @look-at-the-soul @lau219 @peakyswritings @babaohhhriley @naevisct @galactict3a @satanhauntedmytorment @iwantmyredvelvetcupcake @kmc1989 @latorsgatorz @garfieldsladybird
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motherofdogs1010 · 2 months
Text
Little Darling III (Thomas Shelby x Reader)
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Summary: Birmingham has received a new club, one that is showcasing a exotic type of dance that is drawing in crowds, but it is one particular dancer that catches Thomas Shelby's eye... one that goes by the stage name: Little Darling
Warnings: 18+ only, eventual pinv sex, eventual smut, stripper!reader, heavy petting, dry humping, language, drinking, cannon Peaky Blinder violence
A/N: So here is the re-do of Part III, I felt so much better about it! Also, I feel that 'West Coast' by Lana Del Ret would be on a playlist for this story
Also, comment if you want to join taglist
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💋 Banner by @vase-of-lilies 💋 Dividers by @firefly-graphics
Part I Part II
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Thomas buried his hand in her ringlet curls, Y/N could feel the way he gripped her hair as she continued rocking against his bulge and let out a whimper as she passed her swollen clit over again; Tommy gripping her chin with his other hand as their kiss became filthy with saliva falling over their lips as their tongues found each other.
The pain in her cunt from her lust made a whimper escape her lips again as Tommy let the hand that was in her hair trail down to her underwear, slipping his hand under the thin fabric, letting a calloused finger glide through her slick folds as her hips buckled at the feeling.
"Soaked through this flimsy thing", Thomas said, breaking the kiss. "Barely covered under cunt with this thing."
"That's the point", she said, seeing the red lipstick smeared all over his mouth. "It's called a thong."
Tommy brought his hand out from her underwear, letting a finger slid under the string.
"Quite the little invention", he said.
"Want to see something else?" she breathed, pressed her breasts against him.
"What?"
"You want to see how some establishments dance over in America?" she teased with a sultry grin before reaching behind her back and unclipping her bra.
Tommy watched with lustful eyes as she slowly slid down the straps before fully tossing away the bra, her heart was beating out of her chest and a part of her was screaming at her for doing this. But she was high off of the thrill as she felt him reach out to her body, sliding his hands up her stomach before cupping her heavy breasts, thumbing her slowly hardening nipples.
"Show me how they dance, Little Darling..."
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Y/N found herself wiping off the smeared red lipstick off her mouth as she looked at herself in the mirror, the smeared mascara; she disregarded her appearance as she continued to wipe down her face free of the makeup before moving to fix her hair and change into her regular clothes since her shift was over.
She realized how close she was to actually having sex with Tommy Shelby, had it not been for the bouncer knocking on the door to check on her, she knew she would have given into the man. She knew she would have let the man have his way with her in that room and a part of her regretted not having let the man do that.
She could still feel the man's hands over her body, his rough thumb rubbing circles on her clit as she shakily rocked and swayed her hips as their lips greedily clung to one another before he drove his finger into her sopping cunt, whispering how soaked she was.
She shook her head, that was a problem for the Y/N in the morning to think about...
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Tommy drove his motorcar with Arthur and John chattering away about the club, trying to not replay the events of the private room dance so he wouldn't have a hard-on.
"Tom, Tom", Arthur said, "I swear we need to get a hand in this club."
"The money, the dancers", John continued with a grin. "If expansion is what you want, we need to get this club under our belt."
Tommy raised a brow, he wondered how much that 'expansion' idea was for them or for John to continue to his dancers.
"And here you were against expansion", Tommy mused with a smirk.
"If it means having ladies as fine as them, I'm all for it."
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It was the next day as she sat at her table that she contemplated what she had done, sipping her tea as she rubbed her temple. Y/N scolded herself for giving into the Birmingham gangster when she heard a knock at her door, standing up as she tied her robe around her as she went to the foyer of her home, opening to door and see the Devil himself incarnate.
"Quite the transformation", Tommy said as he blew out smoke. "Catholic girl by night, little temptress by night."
"How did you find out where I live?" she hissed, shoving the man inside because of how nosey her neighbors were.
"I'm Thomas Shelby, I know where everyone lives", he said as he walked further into her home.
Y/N felt aggravated that the man showed up, marching after him as she found him making himself at home in her kitchen; he was sitting in one of her chairs, legs slightly spread as he smoked his cigarette, his blue eyes roaming her figure shamelessly.
"Why are you here?" she asked, sitting back in her seat with a glare.
"Do your neighbors know what you do?" he asked, "do they know you dance for men? You dance for me for money?"
She stayed silent and she knew he got his answer as he let out a dark chuckle.
"Of course they don't. No proof of it, right? You can always tell a whore from any other person on the street, but not a stripper. That's what it's called, right?"
"You sound like you enjoy listening to yourself."
"I enjoy few things and that is not one of them."
It was like a game of chess, seeing who had the upper hand in the game as she stared at the man, who was burning his eyes into her.
"At night, you love when I pay you to dance for me. I think we both know last night was quite the dance you gave me."
"I performed a service for you, figured it would a nice way to get a bigger tip from you."
Tommy hummed before putting his cigarette out in her tea cup, pushing himself up out of his seat as he walked over to her. He caged her in the seat, bringing his face close to hers and their breaths mingled as she could smell the nicotine in his breath, smell the aftershave and cologne that he used.
"Last time proved something to me and gave me a thought."
"What was that?" she asked as she felt her heart beating in her throat.
"How much of a whore I can make you be for me when the sun's out?"
With that, he crashed his lips against hers...
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TAGLIST
@amanda08319 @crispynutella @neonpurplestars89-blog @forgottenpeakywriter
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look-at-the-soul · 2 months
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Every little thing you do- Prologue
Tommy Shelby x reader (Mini series)
Summary: Y/N has been Tommy’s best friend since childhood. She had always been there for him when he needed her the most. Now as the Shelby family are in a better position, Y/N will need Tommy’s support when something she didn’t expect happens.
A/N welcome to this little new adventure! This story started as an idea @lyarr24 shared a while ago and I just stared at it for a few minutes until the ideas started “appearing” in my mind. This particular part turned somehow into a comedy show on its own 😂🤭 it was fun and light to write, but it’s going to get angsty… thank you for sharing your unique ideas as usual! It took me some time but I’m always into giving each story it’s own time. And of course @justrainandcoffee thank you for creating this beautiful moodboard for this story! You totally nailed it!
Word count: 2,196
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Arriving at the Garrison, Y/N headed straight towards the private booth where the Shelby’s were reunited.
“You should’ve seen the look in Polly’s eyes when she found out we were buying the stallion.” John cracked and threw his head back with a loud laugh.
Arthur winked at Y/N and decided to mess with his brother.
“Erm John boy.” He cleared his throat, just as Tommy gave Y/N a smirk, they were both sitting facing the door unlike John who had his back at it.
Tommy used the chance to kick his youngest brother in the shin, as a warning.
“So you think it’s fucking hilarious John Michael Shelby.” Y/N imitated Polly’s voice and mannerisms perfectly.
John’s face paled as the smile left his face and he straightened his back.
Arthur snorted and then started laughing uncontrollably as John turned around to find Y/N standing by the door.
“Shit! Y/N you scared the fuck out of me.”
“Get in here sweetheart.” Arthur called for her, making room next to him. “That was brilliant, you’ve got a talent.”
“You sound just like her.” Ada praised, leaning over the table to kiss her cheek.
“You’re late.” Tommy offered her a glass of whiskey.
Taking a sip, she nodded. “The lady I work for had a terrible day, didn’t want me to leave.” She replied titling her head to the side because Arthur was right in the middle, sandwiched between her and Tommy.
“And how did it go?” He asked over the laughs of his siblings.
“My feet are killing me, I had to walk all the way back… but I really needed a drink tonight.
“Why? Scott didn’t pick you up?” He raised an eyebrow in disbelief.
Against his best judgment, he agreed to give Y/N’s boyfriend a place among the peaky men. He didn’t like or trusted him but he was doing it for Y/N and the friendship they’ve always had. Over time, he even gave Scott a car under the condition to drop and pick up Y/N from her work every day.
“We had an argument this morning, he got pissed and I asked him to not.” She lied.
She knew how protective Tommy could get, specially around Scott. They were already past the phase where Tommy would’ve to intervene and put her boyfriend in his place, then Scott would come for her arguing that she let that gangster say and do whatever he pleased.
But Tommy knew Y/N better than that, and this wasn’t the first time she lied to cover for her boyfriend’s attitude.
“What’s so funny?” Polly demanded to know as she joined them in the booth. Staring at Arthur and John’s faces she knew, so she shot Y/N a long look. “You’re imitating me again?!”
The Shelby brothers tried to hide their amusement but all of them failed.
“We wanted to mess up with John, Pol. Sorry.” Y/N looked down embarrassed for being caught.
Polly smiled down at her, it was impossible to stay angry with someone as Y/N.
“Well I hope it was a good one.” The smile grew bigger.
Ada laughed and stood for her aunt to take her place. “You should’ve seen John’s face, he went pale.” Waving at them, she left.
“Hey you need to talk to Finn, he’s getting out of hand these days” Polly warned her nephews. “I asked him to deliver a few letters and he had the audacity to answer he wasn’t a mail boy anymore.”
Tommy shook his head and after a long puff to his cigarette, he answered; “I’ll talk to him.”
Y/N’s chuckle made him look at her. “What? Are you really going to lecture the poor boy? Tom, if I remember correctly, you answered your father something similar back in the day but worse and that caused your first fight.”
Tommy shuddered at the memory. He was so done with his father demanding favors from him and his brother Arthur, so one day he told him he was done with his bullshit and Arthur Sr answered with a curse, threw a glass against the wall and pushed him, Tommy pushed him back. Luckily Arthur Jr and Y/N were close and could intervene to stop them from getting any further.
That night, Y/N stayed with him outside until Tommy had calmed, then she asked her parents, who were neighbors to the Shelby’s if he could sleep on the couch. Y/N’s mother made him some tea and offered him the comfort he wasn’t able to find next door.
They started as neighbors, then Tommy and Y/N became friends until Tommy trusted her blindly. After the war she was the only one who could understand him.
Tommy took a swing of his drink. “You’re not going to tell him that, are you? I’ve a reputation to keep.” He finally added.
“Leave him Pol, the poor boy is probably frustrated because he haven’t had a woman yet.” Arthur chuckled at his own joke.
“Hey,” Y/N called everyone in the room, “leave Finn out, you’re nothing but a bad influence.”
John shook his head and raised his hands as if saying he wasn’t part of it.
“Oh please Mr.-I-want-to-marry-Lizzie-Stark, really?” Y/N raised her eyebrow at him.
“Tommy! Why the hell did you tell her?!” John exploded against his brother, who was already laughing out loud, head thrown back.
Polly had to look twice at her nephew, his guard was down he seemed to be relaxed for once. Since the war he had changed a lot, the weight of the world on his shoulders.
“And besides, I corrected my path, married to Esme didn’t I?” John mumbled chewing on his toothpick.
Y/N nodded, deciding to leave that conversation, it’s was funny to tease John. “I better go now, it’s getting late.”
Tommy was on his feet the second she announced her plans.
“C’mon I’ll drive you.” Tommy offered his best friend.
Giving Polly a hug, she waved at the Shelby brothers goodbye.
After driving for a while, Y/N noticed Tommy took another route.
“Before you ask me,” Tommy spoke softly, “I’m going to show you something.”
She opened and closed her mouth. “You’re so mysterious.”
Tilting his head, Tommy clicked his tongue. “When you see it, you’ll understand.”
“Is it the new horse?” Y/N asked impatiently.
Tommy shook his head and passed her the cigarettes and matches to light it. “Why don’t you tell me what happened with Scott?”
“Something really stupid, he got pissed over nothing.”
“Really? Tell me something I don’t know already.”
Y/N sighed and took her time to exhale the smoke out of the window. “He asked me to ask you for some money, when I told him that he still owed you from the last time he got furious at me.”
“But you gave me the money for that loan.” Tommy’s eyebrows knitted in confusion.
“I did, but it wasn’t his money.” Y/N explained embarrassed after confessing Tommy the truth.
It was now time for Tommy for sigh. Eyes focused on the road, he didn’t want to be a pain and say I told you, Y/N was the only person he could trust and he wanted her to trust him the same way.
“Look this happens all the time, your Mum used to pay your dad’s bills behind his back, I just couldn’t take another one yet, he’s trying to find a better job and I think he’s going to propose soon.”
Tommy’s breath got caught up in his throat, he was trying to process the possibilities.
“So… is he the one?” He finally asked.
“Well he’s my boyfriend.” Y/N rushed to answer. “I just don’t know if he will let me keep working for Lady Winchester.”
“If you need a job, you know there’s always a spot for you at the Shelby Company Limited.” Tommy took the last puff of his cigarette and threw it outside the vehicle.
“Maybe I’ll need it later. Thank you.” Y/N felt more than grateful to have someone like Tommy around, he had always been there for her and her siblings specially after his business took off and he started to earn more money than anyone around. In her eyes, that didn’t make him change, if anything he became more generous.
But Scott on the other hand, was tender and good to her, he was fun to be around, always brought flowers to her. He wanted to have his own business one day, unfortunately life had been hard and it was taking him longer to make it.
Taking a turn, Tommy stopped in front of a huge gate, the property guarded by the gate wasn’t a house, it was a freaking mansion!
And her best friend was opening the gate as if he owned the property.
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“Wha-what are you doing?” Y/N asked looking out the window.
“Drive over here!” Encouraged Tommy with a huge smile.
Her heart started beating faster, he showed her how to drive and even let her do it when she wasn’t allowed to. But this was wrong, it felt like they were trespassing, she could feel her heart pounding as Tommy shouted for her to hurry up.
Following his instructions, Y/N parked the car next to the fountain.
“I wanted you to see this first…” His smile couldn’t get any bigger as he opened his arms wide and looked around proudly. “I bought this place.”
Her jaw dropped, she was lost for words.
“What do you think? I’ll build a place for the horses in the back.” Tommy explained, eyes shining.
“Woah… I don’t know what to say Tom.” A hand covered her mouth, still shocked to form anything coherent. This house looked bigger than Lady Winchester’s and that was a bloody mansion too! “You always said you’d get yourself a decent place and a big house, and look at how far you’ve come!” She felt genuinely happy for him, Tommy had always worked so hard, always found a way to help his people and those around him. If anyone deserved this, it was him.
“I’ll even have my fucking office here, and there’s a grand salon for parties.” He explained as he waited for her to step inside.
“Parties?!” She laughed nervously.
“A ball dance and shit.” He took a look around.
“You’ll need loads of furniture to fill this place.”
Tommy chuckled. This was unthinkable a few months ago, now it was a reality, he’d had the big place he dreamed of when he was a kid.
“You got a fireplace! In the tea room!”
He followed Y/N’s voice, she was now standing in the middle of the dining room.
“This looks like it belongs to a Lord.”
“You can call me Lord Shelby then.” He winked at her and they both laughed at how ridiculous it sounded.
“Downstairs it’s the wine cellar.” He added hiding his hands inside the pockets of his pants. “Do you like it?”
“Are you kidding me?” She nodded. “This is a dream! I’m so happy for you!” Y/N then went to give him a hug.
A bold movement for the rest of the world, but to her it was just natural, they’ve been friends since forever. She was the one comforting him when his mother passed away, the one to help him hold it together after the war.
“You’ll love the kitchen, it’s huge but they’re doing some renovations already, I’ll show you once it’s done.”
“Looks like I’ll need to make an appointment from now on.” Y/N teased him.
Tommy shook his head with a shy smile. “Of course not, specially not you.”
She knew he was busier now days that the Peaky Blinders owned the races and licenses. It was just a matter of time before he found a woman and got married, then this house would be filled with kids. Or perhaps he already had someone therefore the plans to get the big house.
Once the realization hit her, she pretended to look towards the window. A sudden lump installed in her throat and something indescribable pressed her heart.
“Should we go? It’s going to be dark soon.” Y/N asked, looking him in the eyes for a mere second.
Time flew on their way back and soon Tommy stopped his car in front of Y/N’s door.
Even before he could say goodnight, an angry voice called for her.
“I’ve been waiting hours for you, Y/N nobody knew where the heck did you go.”
“Slow down mate, that’s no way to treat her.” Tommy intervened, holding Scott’s death stare.
“Stay the fuck out of this.” Scott raised his voice.
Tommy felt his blood boiling, one stride and he’d finish the prick, but before he could move, a pair of soft hands stopped him.
“Tommy please, let me handle this.” She pleaded.
His jaw clenched as he saw the smirk of satisfaction Scott gave him. The bastard had Y/N charmed and there was nothing he could do about it.
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Part 1
Master list
Tag list: @lyarr24 @runnning-outof-time @cillmequick @datewithgianni @cloudofdisney @gretelshelby @garrison-girl-08 @lespendy @onlydeadcells @fastfan @stevie75 @prettylittlehoneyeyesxoxo @esposadomd @forbidden-forest-witch @ange-thoughts @moral-terpitude @elenavampire21 @forgottenpeakywriter @thenattitude @winchestergirl22 @zablife @elk96 @blondie-22 @imichelle-l-rigby @allie131313 @already-broken144 @peakyscillian @babaohhhriley @shelbydelrey @shaddixlife @sloanexx @sydneyyyya @adaydreamaway08 @pono-pura-vida @thomashelbyswife @darleneslane @everythingelseisextra @kmc1989 @mariaelizabeth21-blog1 @lau219 @lauren-raines-x @red-riding-wood @lovemissyhoneybee @theendlessvoidofdarkest @wannabeperfectionists-blog @yeppaweshallsee (can’t tag) @skydisneylover (can’t tag) @holacia3 @galactict3a
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mayfieldss · 4 months
Text
Point blank - Thomas Shelby
Summary: When you are held at gunpoint by one of Tommy's many enemies, he must come to terms with his feelings.
Warnings: being held at gunpoint (obvi), blood, violence, language, suggestive content. Not spell checked at all so beware.
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The cool metal against the side of your skull wasn't exactly the feeling you had hoped for as the night dragged on. You'd thought about many things, and many people that could bring you pleasure and fun, and you'd thought of a warm bed you would love to curl up in when it got too late to stay awake. But this, the gun pressed firmly to your head, had not been one of the sensations you'd hoped for.
"Call him outside," the man holding the gun shouted to a maid who had stumbled upon the scene. She'd clearly stepped out of the Shelby estate in the hopes of a smoke break, as had you, but was met with a more than shocking ordeal. Tommy's side piece, as many had called you, held at gunpoint by an angry stranger.
She ran ahead inside, and you knew Tommy would be out in a matter of minutes. This was a regular sunday for him. For you, though, it was not something you wanted to occur at all, let alone more than once.
"Mathison," Tommy calls, accent thick as a small fog accompanies his words. The night is cold, and everyone that dares speak becomes a dragon. "I doubt this is nessacary." His hands are raised in a disarming gesture, but you know Tommy well enough. In his eyes, there's concern, worry, and that does not at all ease your nerves.
"You said you'd pay me, give me the money for my family, Tommy, you promised." The man that stands behind you grips tighter to your body, your back flush to his chest as the barrel of the gun digs into your skin.
"You'll get your money in good time, I'm an honest man, Mathison, now let the lady go free." He spares a glance to you, and you can tell he wished he hadn't as soon as it happens. His eyes darken as though he won't be able to scrub the memory free of his mind. Not that you matter that much to be remembered. Not to someone like Tommy. You were just a woman he met in dark corners, after all.
"I want the money now!" The mans shout beside your ear makes you flinch, and the gun shakes in his hands. "It's been weeks, and I want what I was promised!" The man is not at all stable, and with his finger so close to the trigger, you aren't confident in your survival rate.
"Tommy, give him the money. Please." You shouldn't speak. It could earn you a number of consequences, but the fear is stronger than rational thought.
Perhaps the same goes for Tommy because you swear you see him think it over. He flexs his hand at his side, trying to stretch out the tension writhing within him. He is a man of business, not of love, and time and time again that four letter word has ruined him. But seeing you, under threat of harm, stirs a particular amount of concern.
"I don't take kindly to threats against my family. And it looks as though you may be threatening me? Am I correct?"
The man behind you doesn't say anything. His hand still shakes and his grip on you is painful, but he knows that to say yes is to mean consequence, and to say no, would be to lie to Thomas Shelby, which won't end well either.
"Right. Well, I'm having a fucking party inside, one that I would be hosting if I wasn't needed to deal to this. I think the best course of action is for you to put the gun down and leave the premises. You will get your money tomorrow, Mr Mathison." His words sound so final. You can almost believe the man that has a hold of you will listen. Perhaps he is listening because slowly, the gun isn't as close to you anymore.
The gunshot is loud, deafening, and your ears ring with the sound of it. You would have thought that was because you were bleeding out, were it not for the loud scream that fell from your lips at the same time as the sound. If you had, in fact, been shot point blank in the head, you would not have time to scream.
The man that once had a hold of you tumbles backward, and you, in shock, fall to your knees in relief, as well as an attempt to lower the chances of being hit by another stray bullet.
Your first mistake was to look back, eyes locking on the blood pooling around the now fallen mans head. You could have been in the same position just moments before.
"Look at me." Tommy's hands come to grasp the sides of your face, not giving you a choice in the matter. He's on his knees in front of you, his sleeves pushed up to his elbows. "Are you alright?"
You nod, squeezing your eyes shut despite his order, and begin to cry. It's embarrassing to do so, but there's is no way you couldn't bring yourself to. Tommy pulls you into his chest, and despite how mad at him you are, you let him.
His heart races as the sound of the gunshot echoes in his own mind, and the feeling of your heavy breaths taken between sobs while devastating, is the most reassuring action in the moment. You're breathing, which means he's kept you safe for now.
-
Later that night, you are sat on the edge of Tommy's bed, still reeling from the nights events. He'd left you in order to send the party guests away and had only just returned.
"I lied before." You mumble as he enters the room, shutting the door behind him. "I'm not alright."
Looking at him fills you with the deepest anger, how he can stand there, and undo his tie with hands that don't so much as quiver.
"You are a dangerous man, Thomas. I could have died tonight, all because I was foolish enough to get in your bed."
Tommy nods, and you hate the minimal response. "I wasn't going to let him shoot you."
"He could've shot me whether you let him or not!" Your voice is raising even as you don't want it to. He's too calm in the face of this, and that says all it needs to. "We're done, Tommy."
You stand to leave, ignoring the way your muscles feel, still tense even after the ordeal is over. The door is one step away by the time Tommy decides to speak again, but you're already in the hall before he can make a point.
"I did what I had to do to keep you safe." He's followed you out, looking more disheveled now with his tie long gone and shirt half unbuttoned.
"Am I safe with you, Tommy? Because it doesn't feel like it." You're unable to face him, eyes locked on the staircase you so desperately want to run down.
"I can't promise peace if that's what you're askin', but I won't let anyone hurt you. Not as long as I'm alive." His hand on your shoulder is what makes you turn, and you stare him down with what courage you have left.
"Do you love me, Thomas Shelby? Because if you don't, I can't understand why I'd be worth the trouble." It's more of a dare than a question because you're sure he'll say no. And once he says it, you'll have more than enough reason to leave him and never return.
Tommy exhales harshly, and you can smell the cigarettes on his breath, mixed with whiskey from the party. It's not a unique scent among men you've met, but somehow, on Tommy, it's more of an indulgence.
"I thought you knew that already." He mutters, lips closer to yours than they were before. "But I'm sure I can clarify a few things." His hands fall to your waist, a daring gesture but one that isn't uncommon for the both of you before his lips are on yours. Your anger is forced out of you in the form of a kiss, one that is messy and desperate in a way you've only known with Tommy. His breath mixes with yours as do other elements of him, until finally you push him away.
"I'm not forcing you to say it, Thomas. But for fucks sake tell me straight. Do you or do you not love me?"
Tommy grunts in frustration, running a hand over his face. He's an honest man in his own opinion, and he wants to be honest with you, but in doing so he has to do the same for himself. That's harder than most things Tommy does for a living.
"Love is more dangerous than I am, sweetheart. And believe me, my love isn't something you want."
"Yes or no, Tommy." You've pushed back every tear within you and stand like a soldier before him, ready to march away. He clears his throat, loud in the silent hallway.
"Yes. Yes, I fucking love you. now can we please go back to bed?"
You don't answer, but simply wander past him to his room. It's dimly lit, and the sheets look more than inviting after the day you've had. You turn back to him once inside, catching his eyes on your figure.
"I love you too, Tommy."
Slowly, a smile creeps onto his lips, and his eyes cloud over with a look you know too well. "Let's go to bed."
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GENERAL TAGLIST: @heliads @candywh0r3 @caplanreadss @hiya-itsamber @s00buwu
PEAKY BLINDERS TAGLIST:
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jomarch-wannabe · 4 days
Text
Afraid
Tommy Shelby x Fem!Reader
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Synopsis: Tommy’s wife finds out about his diagnosis
Warnings: Angst, insanely depressing, tears, allusion to tuberculoma/illness, depiction of anxiety, tension, mentions of death, nothing happy in this at all
Author’s note: Derived from Season 6 when Tommy gets diagnosed with a terminal illness (I do use some dialogue from Episode 5)
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The heels of your black t-strap shoes clicked against the wooden floor, echoing through the expansive halls of Arrow house. You approached Tommy’s dimly lit office in hopes of retrieving a book. He was into reading poetry lately, and you thought you’d borrow from him.
“Tommy?” You peeked your head in, surprised to find his office chair vacant. He must have stepped out for a moment.
A grand library lined the walls of his office, adjacent to his desk. The titles jumped out at you as you walked towards it, turning your head, and scanning over the names: Frost, Hughes, Fitzgerald. A cloud of dust swirled in the air as you pulled one off the shelf, holding it open in your hands and flicking through the pages.
You invited yourself to sit down, sighing as you settled into a plush, velvety red lounge chair. After looking over the book for awhile your eyes flicked up to his desk. A manila folder stood out against the dark wood. In curiosity, you got up, setting your book down and walking over to it.
You rounded his desk, flicking your eyes over the unlabeled folder. With a furrowed brow you opened it, running your painted fingers over the documents.
The thumping of familiar, confident footsteps grew in volume, nearing the office. Tommy’s figure entered, dressed in his usual attire. His eyes widened in surprise and horror to see you standing there. “What are you doing in here?”
“I was looking for something..” You defended absentmindedly; your attention engrossed in the files laid out before you. A sinking feeling brewed in your stomach as you observed the papers.
“What is this, Tommy?” The question came out in a shaky whisper. You chewed on your lip, thumbing through the doctor’s note and the x-ray, pulling it off his desk.
A curse fled him with a breath. He didn’t intend for you to find that. His jaw clenched as pulled the door closed behind him.
As your flickering eyes examined the black and white image, your hands started to tremble, trying to decipher its meaning as if there was an alternative one. “Tommy.. what- what does this mean?”
Silence filled the room as he walked over to the bar cart, pouring himself a drink. He was self-medicating. He didn’t even realize he was doing it. You watched him with worried eyes, waiting for him to say something. He was silent, taking a large drink of whiskey with an expressionless face, letting out a withheld breath. He didn’t even taste it anymore. Didn’t feel it’s warm burn going down his throat. But he did feel the cloud of turbulent emotions swelling in his chest. That was something he never got used to.
“Tommy?”
“What?” He shouted suddenly, making you jump. “For Christ’s sake, what??”
His chest rose and fell with his labored breath, running his fingers through his hair as he looked at you with raised brows.
“Are you..” you choked, swallowing the lump rising in your throat. “Are you ill?”
Silence again. You held yourself in anticipation, smoothing your palm over your neck, pulling at your necklace to gather more air.
“Yes! Alright? Yes. I’m fucking dying. What does it fucking matter anyway..” he scoffed, reaching urgently into his pocket for a lighter.
His insensitive, casual air of speaking made you tremble with nerves, anger, and confusion. You threw the papers down on the desk, striding across the room to meet him. His detached expression illuminated from the flame of his lighter, casting aglow the pale blue eyes hiding from yours. He took in a drag, letting it out and raising his head to look at you. Internally, he was repelled by your sympathy. As if you were a nuisance for caring about him.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” You cried, blinking back tears. “How could you keep this from me?” Your heart was pounding as a sense of hurt and betrayal came over you.
“It wasn’t for you to know.. alright?” He explained in his usual placid tone, gesturing a hand out as he spoke. “I was developing a plan, making sure everyone is taken care of.” A breath of gray smoke entered the air with his exasperated breath.
Tommy didn’t know how to take care of himself. He avoided it. He knew if he looked inward there would be too many problems and not enough time to solve them. So, he made everyone else his project.
You let out a painful scoff, taking a few steps back in disbelief. “You and your plans Tommy!” An aggravated groan came from you as you rubbed your stressed fingers over your face, trying to ease the building pressure in your head.
“When everyone is taken care of financially, I’ll take myself away..”
Your hand fell from your face, blinking at him in shock and confusion.
His expression remained unchanged at your display of protest. “Before that I will be going to Canada, to collect payment for a shipment worth five million pounds.” The tip of his cigarette dragged over his lips as his brow furrowed in thought. “Which I will share among the Shelby family..”
A gray cloud of smoke followed his moving lips, standing out in the amber light, swirling in a haze. It reminded you of the fragility of human life, that in one moment it can disappear like a whisper, dissolving into the air.
“And that will be my legacy." His gaze split from you as his jaw clenched, internally at war over speaking his next words. "Instead of me, there will be money. Because to most of the people close to me that is what I am!" He raised his voice with his rising adrenaline, pointing a finger in emphasis. "Fucking money.”
The statement felt like a punch in the gut, taking your breath away. “What? Tommy that’s not true..”
“Eh?”
“That’s not true Tommy..” the nerves made you tremble, holding your stomach with your hands to settle the sick feeling.
“All them bullets that missed. It’s funny. It’s funny is what it is! Made it through fucking France- all of it, and fucking tuberculoma is what takes me. Christ.” He turned from you and poured himself another drink, indulging it quickly. A bead of liquid spilled down his chin, which he wiped away with the back of his hand. He leaned forward, holding onto the edge of the table. The tendons in his hand twitched as his frustration grew.
“You’re afraid Tommy.”
His temple jumped from the pressure of his clenched jaw as he turned in your direction, straightening his posture. “What?”
“You’re afraid..” you whimpered sympathetically, tip-toeing towards him with woeful eyes.
“When you’re afraid..” you whispered sadly, venturing to stroke his temple with your fingers. “You over-explain yourself..” the pad of your thumb stroked his skin softly, damp with sweat. “you talk and you don’t stop..”
The tension in his shoulders eased from the warmth of your touch. He couldn’t take his eyes off you. He felt trapped. You knew him too well. Knew him more than he knew himself sometimes.
A surge of empathy came suddenly over you like tidal wave that couldn’t be reasoned with. You could feel his grief, weighing on you against your will. It’s feeling began in your stomach, rising to your throat, when you finally broke the silence, letting out a choked sob. Your fingers came over your mouth, trying to stifle the sound.
You took a few careful steps towards him, breathing shakily as you dared to close the space between you, sliding your delicate hands around his neck.
“Fuck off.. fuck off..” he whimpered at your attempt to embrace him, pushing your arms away. His strong hands grabbed hold of your wrists, resisting your touch.
“Tommy..” you whispered sadly, fighting his attempts to flee. You cried, struggling to wrap your arms around him.
“Get the fuck off me..” he whispered harshly, looking at you with watery eyes. His pale blue eyes glistened with tears as he looked over you, his brows knit together sadly, resembling the look of a scared child.
You sniffled in response, thumbing his cheek tenderly. The warmth of your touch coaxed a bead to slip from his eye, rolling down his face.
He knew he couldn't win this war. The grip on your wrists loosened as he let go of your arms. With defeated steps he closed the space between you, dropping his head into your chest. He took in a shaky breath, fanning your skin, before letting go completely, dampening your blouse with his tears. It’s been bottling up in him for so long. He tried to hide it. Tried his best to keep it a secret. To stay strong for you. But he couldn’t. You always gave him a safe space to be weak.
“Oh Tommy..” you wept, your voice was ridden with grief. For the fact that he was bearing all of this on his own. That he was dying right in front of you, and you didn’t notice. You didn’t notice and you hated yourself for it. He was so good at hiding.
Your hands rubbed up and down his back, as he tightened his arms around you, holding onto you like you would dissolve if he let go. Trying to imprint the feeling of your body in his mind to remember it in the next life.
You cried with him, holding his shaking body against yours. “We can.. we can find a doctor Tommy we can find someone.. we’ll bring you to church Tommy.. we’ll pray.. Polly will pray with us.. I know it..” the words tumbled from your lips, unable to stop yourself as you stroked your fingers through his damp hair.
“I don’t want any of it Tommy. The cars, the fancy clothes, the- bloody house, my jewelry.. I’ll give it all away.. I just need you.. I’ve always only needed you. You’ve always been enough for me.” A painful cry came out of you as you held onto him, needing his support as much as he needed yours.
There was never enough time. Always so many things. Things that end up in land fills, that don’t bear the erosion of time. It was all worth nothing to you now. The one thing that mattered to you most was dying.
He sniffled, letting out a groan and raising his head from your chest and looking at you.
“Y/n..” he whispered, thumbing your face, and making you look at him. “y/n.. look at me..”
“There must be, there must be something we can do Tommy..” your lip trembled as you spoke, placing your hand over his. Your fingertips ran over his knuckles, soothed by the strength of his hands.
His forehead rested against yours, speaking in a low whisper. “These things happen sweetheart. Can’t stop time. Some things we can’t control..” he spoke clearly now, collecting himself and thumbing your cheek.
“You can’t leave Tommy.. you can’t leave me..” you hiccupped tears, swiping your under eyes with your fingertips. “I’m sorry Tommy.. I don’t mean to cry..”
“Shh.. it’s okay love.. I’ve had more time with it.” He soothed, brushing away the wetness with his thumb.
“I can’t do it without you Tommy.. I’m nothing without you. I’ll be half of a person without you Tommy..” you gasped for air, feeling like your head was going to explode from the pressure.
Sensing your distress, he tried to comfort you. “I’m still here sweetheart.. alright? Just breathe with me. I’m still here. We’re together right now. Can you feel my hands on you? My voice whispering in your ear? Eh?” He whispered, smoothing his warm hands down your back.
You nodded, sniffling, feeling your breathing slow.
“There you go.. it’s alright.. it’s alright.. come ‘ere..” his firm hands guided you into his chest with little effort, cradling your quivering frame. He settled his chin on your head, letting out a shaky breath and kissing your hair, breathing you in.
“You don’t have to face it alone Tommy.. for Christ’s sake please don’t let your ego win this war.” You whispered against his chest, nudging your head against him. “You need someone to burden this with you and a thousand times I would.”
“I know sweetheart.. I know.. I know..” his familiar, soothing voice vibrated against your ear as he spoke.
“Stay with me Tommy..” you whispered sadly, memorizing the rhythm of his heartbeat, and the soft sounds of his breathing. “Don’t let me go.. please don’t let go..”
He swallowed sadly, tightening his grip around you. “I promise, I’ll stay with you every second love.. I won’t leave you..” he sighed shakily, his pale eyes glazing over with a distant expression, “not yet."
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Taglist: @kmc1989 @pacifymebby @shelbydelrey @call-sign-shark @peakyswritings
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queers-gambit · 5 months
Text
Aces
prompt: ( requested ) during a terrible storm, you're invited to stay at your boss' house. years of tip-toeing around one another comes to an end when emotions are finally laid on the table.
pairing: Tommy Shelby x female!reader
fandom masterlist: Peaky Blinders
word count: 3.5k+
warning: honestly, it's pretty tame. some cursing, kinda-sorta one bed, most def OC Tommy, fluff, author is def on the Grace Hating Train but it's mild.
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With a grunt, you threw the file of paperwork from your hands across the empty room; scattering across the floor. You were agitated, grouchy, beyond exhausted, and yet, there was no use in trying to leave when the worst storm to ransack England was being unleashed from the seediest parts of hell.
All you wanted was to go to bed for about 16 hours, but as midnight ticked closer and closer, that dream was dwindling. You'd be lucky to get a few hours at this point since your job was demanding enough to warrant early mornings and late nights. But this night was later than ever before.
You often wondered if your employer's antics brought this hell-storm upon you all, but figured, God didn't care that much about Small Heath. He most certainly didn't care for the Devil running it.
"Woah!" A voice laughed when the file went flying. "Gott'an arm on yah, love! Nearly took me fuckin' eye out!"
"Ha-ha," you mocked John Shelby, your employer's younger brother. "What're you still doing here?"
"I was about to ask you the same," he smirked, squatting so he was in front of you with an exaggerated pout. "Why're you still here, love? Tommy's still gotcha workin'?"
"No, it's my own vocation."
"Tommy don't pay overtime, sweetheart."
"No shit," your eyes rolled. "In case I'm the only one capable of seeing it, there's an outlandish storm outside that prevents me from getting home." You gestured around where you sat on the floor, surrounded by files and other paperwork, "So, what else was I gonna do to pass the time?"
"It's not that bad," he waved you off. "C'mon, I'm off t'the Garrison, come with me, love. We can drink 'til the storm passes, huh?"
"John, seriously, I'm warning you," you deadpanned, watching him adjust his flatcap.
"C'mon, sweet cheeks, we can endure it," he laughed, opening the door and literally being shoved back by the force of the wind. You didn't make a sound, just reaching to hold down the papers around you as he grunted and groaned, trying to shut the flailing door; only able to once he threw his entire weight into it.
"Told you," you mused, his face and coat dripping wet from the short time the door was open.
"So, you're staying here, then?" He asked, panting, trying to play off the entire ordeal.
"I figured I'd get some more work done, it's not like Tommy gives any days off," you shrugged.
"He'd give you whatever you asked for," John smirked, taking his coat off.
"No, he needs me to do shit on the daily, there aren't days off, John Boy," you rolled your eyes playfully. "But I knew what I was signing up for when I agreed to work for you idiots."
"Hey," he pouted.
"Oh, honey, if it helps any, you're my favorite idiot!"
"Good," he pointed at you with a small laugh. "But seriously, love, if you need the day off, Tommy would do it."
"No, there's so much to do here," you frowned. "We're on track to reopen in a few weeks, and if I take a day off, we'll fall behind, and you know Tommy doesn't do delays."
The gambling den the Shelby's operated was getting a make over now that The Shelby Company Limited was soon to be up and running. Hence why you were there in an empty room with only files around you and a dimly lit lap, you were trying to get shit organized before furniture could be moved back in.
You would have to restock Polly's office, Tommy's, Arthur's, and John's - all of who were Company members and would need their space to work. Not to mention the completely different office Tommy was currently eyeing to use as his base of operation, something you, as his personal assistant, was expected to help with every step of the way. Honestly, it was a miracle Tommy was ever able to get shit done before you - an organizational Goddess.
"Well," John sighed, looking around for a moment before shrugging and placing his hands on his hips, "want some help?"
You chuckled, "No, it's all right, John, you go on. Surely the lads will be home soon - "
Speak of the Devil! And He will appear!
The door burst open, sending your files every which way from the gust of wind; several bodies shoving their way inside before the lone, single body of Tommy Shelby stalked in last. He shut the door without issue, being a force of nature himself; a professionally observant, silent, lone menace that commanded the attention of any room he walked into. People on the street parted for him like the Red Sea, flocked to the darkened parts of the streets just to get a glimpse of the gangster in motion.
For as long as you can remember, you've harbored overwhelming affection for your boss, but never once vocalized it out of sheer fear of rejection.
He was Thomas Shelby. He was an enigma; a mysterious, stoic man that instilled a sense of fear and respect from those around him. You included, but yet never dare let your admiration for your employer be known in public. You loved him from a distance; admiring him and feeling yourself fall further into your unrequited love due to the intimate proximity you shared. He's always treated you as exactly what you were - a valuable member of the Company and his personal assistant. You worked intimately together on a daily basis, and each night you went home, you would scream into a pillow out of sheer frustration.
Being his personal assistant meant you were constantly in close proximity, and no matter how hard you tried to fight your feelings, it was impossible. He was Thomas bloody Shelby - insanely suave, charismatic, a deep nut to crack, but once he opened up, he was insanely loyal, caring, even decently amusing. He was all you wanted, but never felt secure enough to admit your feelings for him.
You were greeted happily by the men, all piling into the Shelby home to take refuge from the storm. You were left to silently rock to your feet and start gathering the papers that had gone flying in their entrance, glancing up when a hand offered help in rounding up your supplies. "Thank you, Mr. Shelby, but I got it," you insisted quietly, accepting the pages he handed you.
Tommy always had a soft spot for you.
He was silent for a moment, then asked, "What're you still doin' here?"
"Storm makes it impossible to get home," you shrugged. "I was waiting until it lessened, but it doesn't seem to," you glanced out the window, still shuffling files and papers together.
"You've worked all day," he sighed, "c'mon."
"Uh... Where?"
"Think you've earned a drink," he eased, already striding out of the room. You quickly finished gathering your papers, stacking them all together, but was pleasantly shocked when Tommy returned to the empty room with two glasses and a bottle of whiskey.
"Mr. Shelby, don't - "
But he was already sat on the ground, back against a wall, watching you with amusement. "Think a man's too good to sit on the floor?" He asked, uncorking the bottle.
"When their suit is so expensive that I have to take it to a specific cleaners, perhaps, then yes," you answered truthfully.
"I've money to spare, I can send this suit to be cleaned by another errand boy, you won't have to any longer," he poured two glasses of whiskey, "but tonight's company is too good to pass up."
You laughed, "Oh, no, what did you do?"
"Hmm?"
"You're kissing my arse a little, what've you done? What mess do I have to clean tomorrow?"
He smirked as you finally sat beside him, a bit stiffly, but accepted the drink he served. "Nothing, love, this storm's put a halt on everything," he gestured to the window, unaware that your heart stalled in your chest when you heard him call you 'love'. "What is it you were working on?" He asked, fingering the few files stacked between you. "Ah," he mused, reading the titles of the packets, "trying to get a jump on tomorrow, huh?"
"Not very much else to do," you shrugged. "I... I got a little frustrated. I think I'll need Polly to go over a few things with me."
"I'm sure you've got it," he spoke quietly. "I wouldn't have hired you if incapable."
You nodded, "Right, of course, sir."
Mr. Shelby offered you a look, taking a swig of whiskey. "You know, after hours, you don't have to be so professional."
"You didn't hire me to be unprofessional, though."
"No, I didn't, but this isn't a work meeting," he offered his glass. "We can still be friendly, can we not?"
You clinked his glass with yours, "Sure, of course we can..." How the hell could you be 'friendly' to the man you've pined after for the past two years? "So, I heard Grace skipped town," you started, instantly wincing when you realized what you said. "I-I'm so sorry, Mr. Shelby, I didn't mean to - "
But he chuckled, "You heard correct." He waited a long moment, then offered, "She's gone - for good."
You tested the waters, "Is... That a good thing?"
"It is."
"I thought you liked the barmaid?"
"I thought I did, too, but I've been wrong before."
"I doubt that."
"No, truly," he smirked, "I've made my fair share of mistakes."
"That you'd be willing to admit to?"
"Well, that's a different story," he mused, downing the last of his glass. "C'mon," he decided, sitting up, "the others are in the den, if you'd like to join?"
"Oh, no, I don't wish to intrude."
"Where were you going to sleep, then? If this storm doesn't die off in the next hour?" You gestured to where your coat and belongings were bunched up beside you, shrugging lightly. "No, absolutely not," he glared when he took in your makeshift bed, "you're coming in, you'll stay the night here."
"No, you lot are having family time - "
"And why do you assume you aren't family yet?" He asked sharply, making you reel back a little. "Three years, you've worked with my family, a portion of that before any of us came home. C'mon, love, you're more family than others wish to pretend to be."
"You mean that?" You worried softly.
He offered a look of mild offense, "I don't speak to hear the sound of my own voice. I would not say it if I did not mean it."
The whiskey in your system encouraged you to offer a sharp look, snipping, "It would not kill you to just say, 'Yes, I mean it.'"
Tommy smirked lightly, nodding, "Yes, I mean it. Come, you'll stay here tonight."
You couldn't fight off the smile even if you tried. With your coat and purse in one hand, Tommy took the other to help you off the floor. Like a gentleman, he took your belongings before leading you further into the Shelby home; leaving the empty gambling den to find the others all stuffed around a table with a card game loudly being played; fireplace stoked to life.
Polly greeted you happily, not knowing you were still here. Tommy set your things to the side as Arthur wrangled you into the seat beside him - insisting you had to be on his team! A quick sniff of his tea mug assured he was waist deep in the whiskey.
"Okay! New player at the table!" John announced, yanking all the cards back to hand over to Polly. They were all smoking, minus you and Finn. "You all know the rules - hey, hey, hey, no! Tommy's not on her team!" He pointed at you and his brother, who had sat beside you to sandwich you between Shelby's.
"Why not?" Tom asked, accepting the tea from Polly as Finn handed you your own.
"Thank you, little love," you whispered, pecking his cheek as he giggled.
"Becuase you two can communicate without words - it's fucking weird!" John insisted. "All right! Polly, you're with Tommy - the fucker likes to cheat."
"Being better than you isn't cheating, John Boy."
"Is when there's money on the line!" John laughed, Arthur leaning over to explain to you the game. He was actually a very good teacher, and even for a few rounds, you weren't a "viable player" just to let you watch and get the gist of things.
However, when you joined the game, it was far more intense than you had given credit for. But the Shelby's were competitive lads, Polly just happy to laugh and remind the boys of the rules; letting them dominate the table as you were content to just watch, laugh, and sip your tea. After a few rounds, Finn came over and hopped up on your lap, declaring you two a team now, and believe it or not, you won the next three hands!
"CHEATERS! AYE!?" John yelled, laughing right after as a boom of thunder rattled the home.
"No, call that beginners luck!" Arthur tried to defend, Tommy lighting a new cigarette.
"Or maybe John's just not accustomed to losing?" You grinned. "Especially from a lady?"
"I lost to a lady? Where? Where is she?" John looked around comically, earning a swift kick under the table that rattled the tea cups.
"All right, all right, next hand, we play for money, come on, come on, bets in the center," Polly instructed. "Finn, don't," she warned and you reached up to push the lad's hand down as he was ready to toss in a few pounds.
"Here, I'll cover us," you told the little lad, both grinning when you offered money to the center. Unknown to you, Tommy was keeping mental track of however much you were betting - intent to pay you back. Yet he didn't say anything, content to watch you and Finn have fun together.
Arthur and John were the most vocal of the group, arguing about scores and tallies and who won which round. You chuckled as Finn leaned into your chest, everyone waiting for the two to finish arguing; Polly looking over with a broad smirk before dropping her gaze. Tommy had seemingly naturally moved closer to you, one arm extended behind your chair to keep you close to his warmth.
Neither seemed to notice.
Not even when you would turn to crack a joke directly in Tommy's ear, his lips spreading in an easy smile that made Polly fight off her own grin. Grace was something special to Tommy, sure, this was true, but after the time together, she could tell that the two of you had become something more - without even verbalizing it.
Never realizing.
Hours passed, the storm still raged, two cartons of cigarettes was smoked between the lot of them, and there was no clear winner in sight. Finn had fully deflated into your embrace, asleep despite the loud thunder and blinding flashes of lightning. Your head had lulled onto Tommy's shoulder, sleep clawing at your eyelids as you listened to a drunken John and Arthur still argue about the card game. Polly eventually called it quits and bid everyone a goodnight, smiling softly when she noted the cozy seating between you and Tommy.
The longer you sat there, you more exhausted you became.
"C'mon, love," Tommy whispered softly, rousing you from your half-sleep, "let's get you to bed. C'mon, up you get," he smirked, aiding you from your chair as you kept a firm hold on his little brother. "We'll see you lot in the morning," he told his brothers.
"Night," John and Arthur waved, still deep into their argument, but smirking to one another when Tommy lead you up the stairs. When you were gone from sight, John leaned in and asked his eldest brother, "Think Tommy'll make a move tonight?"
Arthur glanced up the stairs, musing, "If he doesn't, he might be stupider then we thought."
John agreed.
Upstairs, Tommy opened the bedroom door and let you lay Finn softly on his bed, pausing to tug his shoes off and cover him with his blanket; moving his stuffed teddy bear closer and watching his sleeping hand naturally curl around it. You snuck out of the door, Tommy shutting the door, and tangled your hand with his.
Silently, he lead you to his bedroom.
It was small, ridiculously small, but it was enough for his single person. Tommy shut the door after you, moving around, muttering, "You can sleep in this," as he handed you one of his shirts, "and I'll be in the drawing room if you need me - "
"Tommy, I'm not kicking you out of your room," you sighed. "I can sleep on the sofa for the night, it's not - "
"I'm not letting you do that," he refused sharply.
"Then we seem to be at an impasse," you decided with perked brows. "Either we're both sleeping on the sofa or we both crash your bed. You choose."
He chuckled dryly, "And here I thought the whiskey would make you less stubborn."
"Wishful thinking."
He nodded, letting you have the room to change and get under the covers. It was decently cold in his room, more so without pants; the storm doing nothing to remedy that, and when Tommy returned, everything felt different.
A good different, but still different.
Neither of you made eye contact, him joining you in the absurdly small bed after blowing the candles out. You settled on your side, facing the wall, and after a few moments of adjusting, Tommy was settling down - but hesitating to deflate in comfort.
"Is it all right if I, uh... If I...?"
"Yeah, 's all right, Tommy," you whispered, reaching for the hand that hovered over your waist and pulling it so he was curled around you. It was all he needed to readjust, sigh to himself, and deflate against your back. You shivered slightly when his warm breath fanned over your neck and shoulder; his hand splaying over your belly and rubbing his thumb mindlessly. "Thank you for letting me stay the night," you whispered.
"Wasn't gonna send you home in this weather," he answered, voice vibrating the shell of your ear. "Besides," he whispered in a sigh, "this is where I wanted you, and where I wanted to be."
You chuckled, "Oh, yeah? So cold in here you need a warm body in bed with you?"
"No," he whispered, "but I've been in love with you for months now that I didn't want you far from me. Doesn't feel right, seeing you go home without me - everyday. I was overjoyed to come back and see you still here."
"What?" He didn't let you turn around, just kept you both there; locked in your spoon. "Tommy, what're you saying?"
He took a sobering breath, "That this is what I want, this is where I want us to be."
"That's the whiskey talking."
"No, love, it's you," his lips danced across your ear, making you shiver. "It's always been you, but I wasn't in my right mind to do anything about it."
"And now you are?"
"I might be, I couldn't go another minute with you thinking I don't want you - that I don't value you in my life. The fact that you were ready to sleep downstairs hurt me more than I'm willing to admit," he sighed, "and I knew, I needed to confess a few things so you know, you're welcome in this family. You won't ever sleep downstairs, love, you're meant to be here... With me... If you want to be."
You had to slap his hand to get him to loosen his grip and let you turn around to face him; but his hand remained on your, moving up to grip your ribs. In a whisper, you asked, "You're being honest? Genuine?"
"I can't lie to you, you can always tell. So, am I lying?"
"I don't think so," you whispered with skepticism, eyes narrowed. Neither of your voices rose above a whisper, "Why say any of this, Tommy?"
"Because the idea of going another day without at least trying to tell you how I feel was beginning to feel suffocating."
"What about Grace?"
"It's taken me a bit, but I know now that I was infatuated with her simply because I had already decided you were out of my league."
"Do you hear yourself?" You grinned, caressing his cheek. "You're everything I've wished for, Tommy, but know I can't have. You're the one in a league of your own, I'm the one unable to touch you."
His head shook, "You're all I've wanted and more. I wasn't sure you'd think it appropriate - my affection for you - given you work for me."
"The same reason I feared voicing my affection for you, too."
"Now that it's in the open," he whispered, "how do you want to proceed?"
"We can figure logistics out later," you smiled, tracing your fingertips over his face, "but for now, I just want to enjoy this. I never thought you'd look at me the same way, and now that you do, I don't want to look away."
"You won't have to," he whispered. "I'm in this for us, my sweet, if you are."
"Nowhere I'd rather be," you whispered, cuddled close, and simply breathing the same air. For a single moment, Tommy felt unparalleled peace; the shovels quiet, heart content, and body warm.
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