#(reflecting the switch from new scared hesitancy to enduring steadfast love)

[raayllum]

I can't lose you like this. You mean too much to me. Callum, I—I... You know what I love about you? Everything.

2x09 / 6x09 / 7x01 / 7x09

[prettieparker86]

In The Bleak Midwinter || Part 13

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6 Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10,  Part 11 & Part 12

Announcement Please See Note Below...

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x Reader

Warning: Adult situations, flashbacks, mentions trauma, talk of abortion, Violence

Gif Credit: @thomasshelbyltd   @cillianmurphydaily  @peakyblindersdaily    @sikanapanele  Thank you for letting me use your beautiful gifs!

Tag: @lainey-lane​, @pindlemouse, @ thelastemzy, @helloandreabeth, @fandoms-broke-my-life,  @shelbysbushblog, @accio-witty-username, @iamtheonewhocares, @infinitelycharmed23, @kingsmanstories, @shelby-gin-limited, @taylxr0, @sympathyfortheblinderdevil, @neversleeping4am, @icebluegriffin  @johhnshelby, @ subhamamu @ unicorn-glitter-princess @thatsamegirl, @mafaldaz, @cafe-sabor-a-chocolate,  @collegecatlady,  @20th-centu-fairy-girl, @xlightning-disasterx  @niiight-dreamerrrr  @i-shouldbepainting  @dermittts  @stylesbooze

Authors Note: I really don’t like this chapter, but I give up. I’m washing my hands of it. It’s given me nothing but grief. I had high hopes for it and frankly, I think it’s cabbage. So Sorry ahead of time.

Also, when Polly mentions things being in their blood because they’re gypsies, and having some deep insight/foresight/psychic intuition. I am going purely off the character established in season four. This is in no way a reflection of actual romani cultures. And I mean absolutely no disrespect in anyway.

Announcement: 

So, I wasn’t going to say anything. I was just to switch it out and call it a day, but then I worried it might be confusing if people noticed. So I’m just gonna own it... I hated the Tommy and Fiona scene, so I changed it. I didn’t want to leave up something I didn’t love. So what that means is there will be two versions of this chapter floating around, because it’s already been reblogged (Thank you for that! You guys are the best!). So just be aware of that. If you happen to notice it, you’re not crazy, I’m owning what I did. You can decide which version of the chapter you like best. Thank you!

You can’t sleep. Your demons won’t let you rest. The threat of your impossible future haunts you into all hours of the night. Long after everyone else has succumb to sleep. You toss and turn, staring up at the ceiling, an itchy nagging feeling just under your skin until you finally give up and get out of bed. You’re running yourself a glass of water, trying not to wake the rest of the house, when you hear a noise come up from behind you in the kitchen – a creak of a board, a shuffle of movement. 

Spinning around quick, you hadn’t expected company in the dead of night like this, but you can’t say you’re surprised to find it’s Polly standing there, candle steady in her hand. Looking gorgeous as ever in her short curls and flowing nightdress against the dancing flame of the candle. You smile at her, the sight a pleasant surprise. A comforting one against the anxiousness the grips you tight tonight.

“Can’t sleep?” She asks, like a mother would to a child. Caring for you and after you in a way you haven’t experienced since you lived with your aunt Brona right after the birth of Finn.

You shake your head no, in response, placing your glass down on the counter, a forgotten thought before you’ve barely had a sip.

But Polly doesn’t mince words or opportunities as she places down the candle on the butcher’s block beside the stove and moves toward you as if she can see the anxiousness churning inside you.

“A’right then, so you’re up the duff?” She inquires without hesitation, without judgment, and the lack of reprisal on her breath and in her eyes settles some of the shame you’ve been flogging yourself with for days now.

“I believe so.” You answer quietly, eyes scanning around to ensure no one is in ear shot, but the house is quiet as a church, not even a board squeaks.

“When was your last flow?” She inquiries bluntly, getting straight to the point. Her big dark eyes holding you in the shadows that surround you both. She speaks with ease, but still her words threaten to swallow you alive with the magnitude of the answer as you muster the courage to speak.

“I don’t know.” You whisper as your face falls from hers, feeling foolish. 

You know it’s the sort of thing you should know without doubt, especially since you crawled into Tommy’s bed and never came out. A line you swore you’d never cross again after all the heartache and struggles you’ve endured to bring Finn into this world and then keep him alive. 

Even with the factory laborer, you had been careful, diligent, to do everything in your power to ensure you didn’t become pregnant. But with Tommy everything seemed so different. You were feeling things you never thought you would feel again. You thought with the tea… You see now you thought wrong.

“With John, an’ the Italians, there’s been so much... One, maybe two months. I can’t- I can’t be certain.” You admit on a shaken whisper, running a frustrated hand down your face, angry with yourself as you try to retrace it in your mind. Ever since coming to Small Heath the days have blended. Living under constant fear of death and grief, and then after Al… it’s been hard to get a good sense of time. But you know full well this is something you should have been diligently monitoring, you feel like a complete failure. 

How could you have been so foolish! One child out of wedlock is an unforgivable sin, but two and by different fathers, you feel a panic coming on just trying to imagine the kind of shame that would accompany that fate. What kind of woman that makes your morally. What kind of mother that makes you, to put Finn’s already fragile joy into jeopardy.

“Could it be iron. Have you tried tablets?” She asks, you see her running down the list of possibilities in her mind before jumping to any conclusions.

You shake your head sadly. “But it’s not just my flow… I’ve been sick lately, light headed sometimes, an’ my breasts are tender... I know what this is Pol.” You tell her, the words starting to choke you up as your throat tightens with an all too familiar fear. 

Heart pounding in your chest as you finally say the words aloud. Making them real and utterly terrifying in a way that plaguing your mind never could. You swore to yourself you’d never experience this again, never find yourself here, and yet, here you are.

“The tea didn’ work. I jus-“ Tears edge at your eyes as your voice wavers. You such in a sharp breath and pull yourself together, holding your belly tight as you force yourself to breath slowly.

“I was hopin’ you might know a woman who can help me.” Those words break your heart. You hate to say them. It’s never something you wanted. Never something you imagined doing. But you can’t do this to Finn. Destroy his world with your carelessness. And you can’t have that monster’s baby and you have no way knowing who the father is. A fact that makes your heart feel sick and leaves you shuttering harder with shame.

“The tea works. Did you forget to take?” Polly is certain, there’s no doubt in her eyes, but there is a peculiar intrigue that seems to light up in her gaze. You wish you could hold on to that same kind of certainty, but this is your body and you can feel what’s happening to it. It’s changing. There’s something inside it and no amount of debate about tea will change that.

Polly steps close to you, her hands unceremoniously reaching for your belly, pushing and palming against your stomach as your secret barely takes shape in her hand.

“No, never.” You finally answer her with a shake of your head, letting her carry out her inspection without a fuss. You swear it, you never forgot. Not once. Not something that important. Your attempts to monitor the situation may have been halfhearted at best, but your attempts to prevent it were steadfast.

Polly suddenly grabs at your breast, brief and quick as you jump a little, startled under her unexpected touch. You watch her eyes narrow with understanding as a quick huff leaves her chest before she quickly steps back.

Polly nods slowly looking you square in the eye to acknowledge the seriousness of your request. “I know a woman, but I warn you this one won’t go easy.” She smiles weakly at you.

You stare into her eyes, fear and confusion coiling and stirring about in your gut as your chest tightens with apprehension. “Why do you say that?” Almost afraid to ask.

She cups your cheeks gently in her weathered hands as she looks you square in the eye.

“Because this baby held on through that bloody match you had with the Italian and Shelby’s never go without a fight.”

Her words hit you like a shockwave, like the floor being ripped out from under you. Tears spring to your eyes with the implication. Your chest suffocating as it pulls in around your heart. “How do you know that? How can you be certain?”

Polly looks you square in the eye, the light of the candle’s flame dancing in her deep whiskey orbs.

“In that noose I died and now it’s as if a window has opened up and things reveal themselves to me... I feel the gypsy blood running through that baby’s veins and I’d guess you’re nearly three months gone.” She tells you without an ounce of doubt of her breath.

Her revelation leaves a rattled breath ripping your lips as tears of relief roll heavy down your cheeks, unable to hold them inside you any longer. You’re taken aback by her words. You don’t know if you believe in spirits and windows, but you can’t deny the unwavering certainty in Polly eyes, and you trust her. You know she would never deceive you over something like this. Never hurt you in such a way.

Her thumb wipes tenderly at your tears. “You thought it was the Italian’s.” Polly states, already seeing the answer in your eyes.

“I was scared. I didn’t know.” You admit on a shaken breath.

“That’s a Shelby growing inside there. And unless you’ve been with Arthur or Finn, it’s Tommy’s.” She tells you, cracking a smile at her joke. Knowing the relief that news must bring to you, but then a seriousness takes hold in her eyes. Polly cups your cheeks more firmly with it, looking you dead in the eye as she speaks.  

“This family’s cursed, Tommy most of all. You should know that before you make your decision. Life would never be easy with him, but it’s a girl and she’s strong like her mum.”

Polly’s words send tears spilling from your eyes all over again. A little girl. Tommy’s girl. Your chest rattles as you suck a deep breath in. Your hand settling low on your stomach as you run your thumb gently over the spot, letting yourself feel connected to this baby for the first time. Instead of solely fearing the weight of it. 

You know Tommy is more tortured than most. Some days half alive, but mostly dead. But you love him, and you love the little family you’ve built together with the boys. And you know there’s no guarantee Tommy will even want this baby. With so many enemy clawing at his back. After losing Grace. You don’t have the luxury of living in dreams, but knowing the baby is Tommy’s changes everything.

Releasing your face, Polly covers your hand with her own over your belly in a show support. “I’ll give you an address for a midwife tomorrow. She can confirm how gone you are without Tommy finding out… Think it over. You know where to find me if you still need my help.” She whispers softly, before placing a tender kiss upon your forehead. Slipping from you side, she leaves you alone with your thoughts as another round of tears rolls slowly off your eyes.

 As you climb back into bed with Tommy, your mind is still a flurry of energy. Counting the days, retracing the steps of how you got here - as Charlie’s nanny, then Tommy’s friend before you became his bed fellow, and now… Now you love him. Deeply. Madly. And though he’s never said it, you’re quite certain he loves you too.  And now his baby is growing inside you, or at least Polly seems quite certain of it. The thought washes over you with uncertainty and excitement as you feel Tommy roll onto his side, reaching for you, wrapping his hand around your waist as he drags you against him in the bed.

“Where’d ya go?” You hear him quietly grumble against the back of your neck. His breath warm and thick with gravel from sleep.

“I was thirsty.” You explain as you feel Tommy pull you deep into the curve of his body, warm, solid, and safe. You focus on the feel of his breath moving evenly against the back of your neck as his arm winds around your waist, resting just above where his baby grows inside you, as he presses against you. You wrap your arm around his at your waist as your heart aches from the distance that still lingers between you. 

You miss him like a hole in your heart nothing else can fill. You haven’t attempted any real intimacy since the night neither of your dare speak of. It’s been over a month, and the reasons for that are just. You were healing, you weren’t ready to be intimate with someone yet and Tommy respected that. But lying here, having just heard Polly’s belief the baby inside you is Tommy’s, you realize you can’t go on like this. You need him. You miss him. You’re ready.

You rock gently against him, listening as Tommy groans quietly against your hair, but nothing more comes of it. It’s been so long and you know him so well, surely, he just assumes you’re readjusting in bed… Until you keep at it. Quietly relieved when you feel him come to life against. Taking solace in knowing some part of him still wants you. Even if it’s just the raw undiluted part of his manhood that can’t be quieted any more than it can be tamed.

“Fiona,” Tommy whispers to you. A hint of uncertainty as his breath flutters the hair tucked behind your ear. His voice so deep and gritty it makes your belly tighten with need and your hips press a little harder against him with the sound of it.

“Tommy,” You whisper back as a hunger you haven’t felt properly in far too long begins to reignite inside you. Your skin craves the feel of his touch, and knowing Tommy’s going to need a little assurance this is what you want - that you’re ready - you reach for his hand at your waist and slip it underneath your nightdress. Feeling shivers ripple under your skin as his palm drags slowly up your thigh to the curve of your hip. Inviting him to touch you.

Your breath quickens off your lips as Tommy slowly wraps his callused hand around the curve of your hip. Molding your flesh in his palm as he pulls you tighter against him.

“Is this a’right?” Tommy asks, bathed in a darkness that fills the room with an electric energy that makes anything possible. Making no assumptions. He needs to hear you say it. Tommy always takes the lead, he needs to feel in control, but after what happened to you, he also needs to know what you’re comfortable with. What you need, because if it was up to him, you’d already be naked and withering beneath him. 

He’s missed you so fucking badly. You’re the anchor in the chaos of his life. You hold him steady when everything else rips apart. But Tommy’s lips struggle to say those words. After the war he’s forgotten what they sound like coming off his breath. He can’t say it, but he can show it. Taking pride in his ability to take you higher than anyone else can, leave you begging for more, but he’s been holding all that back. Not wanting to press you for something you weren’t ready for yet.

“Yes.” Shaken by need, your thighs clench as you ache inside for him. Missing him from the deepest hollows of your heart, you reach for his hand and drag it down between the ache of your thighs.

“Touch me, Tommy.” You beg him, your voice as needy as you feel.

He reacts instantly, his breath hot on your flesh, as he groans against the back of your neck. The sound of it vibrates against you, stirring up memories of that last night before your met with Al. When the room could barely contain you both and all Tommy wanted was you trapped in the cage of his arms and the breath of his lips. Tommy peppers you with kisses as his fingers begin to slowly stroke you, your hips flexing against his touch, desperate for more.

You wither against his touch as his Tommy’s fingers roam and rediscover every place that makes you tick. Back and forth, circling against you until he has your knickers soaked against his deft fingertips. You exhale hard, a little in disappointment when his hand suddenly pulls back, unsure if he’s teasing you or stopping completely, but then you feel Tommy’s slip inside the seam of your knickers, his palm pressing against your belly, before he halts.

You can feel it racing in your heart from the unsteady twitch of his hand. Tommy needs your permission to proceed. The days of bold moves and blanked assumptions feel so far away after the brutality of what happened to you.

“Don’t stop.” Urgent and needy, you push his hand further down between your legs, giving you both what you want.

Tommy’s breath deepens sharply against your skin before it suddenly dies in his throat when his fingers meet your flesh. He groans deeply against your neck like a man on the edge of collapse, you shutter as the sound of it vibrates off your skin. He slips into your wetness and you cry out in relief, so desperate for his touch. Desperate to feel connected to him once again from the most intimate places upon you.

Slowly Tommy explores you like it’s the first time all over again. Making you feel desirable even after what’s been done. His fingers run teasingly along your entrance, sliding back up to rub his slick fingertips against you. As you lean into him, the feel of him sending shockwave rolling through your body with every curl of his finger.

“Tommy…Please…” You whimper and beg losing sense of yourself in his grip as the pressure buried deep between your thighs builds. You bury your face against the pillow to quiet the noise carrying from your lips, trying not to wake the children or anyone else in the thin walls of this home. The coil of your belly and the pang of your heart, tells you you need to feel him inside you again. Feel those rough luscious fingers that pull away at cigarette’s all day long, curl and bury deep within you the way they use to.

But what you don’t know is Tommy needs this just as bad as you do. He’s been patient, never pushing, but the nights have been long and torturous with your warm curves snuggles against him. It’s been killing him to have you beside him, and yet completely untouchable after the damage Al did.

“This what you need, love?” Tommy asks, his breath dangerously low as he sucks on the back of your neck, slipping two fingers within you, and curling them deep.

A gasps rips from your chest, your back arching against his chest as your hips jerk involuntarily into his hand. Your mind goes blank with the feel of the man you love inside you once again, moving within you as if you aren’t damaged, as if he still wants you, always will.

You rock faster against his fingers, hungry with need. It’s been so long, your body is already building and pushing toward release as Tommy reminds you no one can touch you the way he does. Palm flat, rubbing against your sensitive bud, Tommy’s fingers dip within you, keeping perfect rhythm with the frantic rock of your hips. Your body feels hypersensitive after being deprived of him for so long. You feel like you can’t take it, like you can’t catch your breath or the racing of your heart. Quickly your hand reaches behind you to dig and claw in his hair, needing to touch him, needing him to anchor you as you begin to unravel. 

The feel of having Tommy hard against you, his desire pressing at your back as his fingers push deep within you and suddenly your whole body starts to shake with pleasure. Your muscles tense, your breath catching in your throat as ecstasy rushes through your veins and you come hard around his fingers. Waves of rapture drowning you in a sea of bliss that steals the breath from your lips. Trembling and whimpering his name as Tommy holds you against his chest, never slowing down the unrelenting pace of his hand until you stop trembling and pulsing around his digits.

It takes you a moment to catch your breath as you come back down. Exhausted and spent from an explosive release that’s been building inside you for too long, but as Tommy’s hand pulls free, the empty feeling that takes his place tells you you still need him, and the feel of Tommy pressed hard against your back tells you he still needs you too. 

His hand is barely free of your knickers before you’re rolling onto your back to face him and dragging the silk down your legs. You glance over at Tommy in earnest, watching as his fingers slip into his mouth, licking the taste of you clean from his digits.  If you thought his eyes looked dangerous and drunk a moment ago, now they’re down right ravenous and deadly as he pulls his fingers free, humming with the taste of you on his tongue.

You reach for Tommy, the need palpable in your veins as you pull him into a desperate kiss. And Tommy’s just as hungry to taste your mouth as he was your arousal, as his tongue slips past the seam of your lips to stroke your own. Yanking his boxers down his legs, Tommy moves as if they can’t come off him fast enough. Tugging at the strong muscles that line his broad shoulders, you pull Tommy toward you in a frenzy, heart pounding hard for him in your chest. 

Your mouths meld and taste as Tommy slips between your thighs, tugging your nightdress high up on your waist, and out his way. Drowning in the need to taste of each other, Tommy’s tongue strokes you as he settles his weight down in the cradle of your thighs. The feel of his warm body settling across, skin brushing sensitive skin, sends a moan humming off your lips and disappearing into his waiting mouth.

Tommy pulls back for a moment of sanity, cradling your cheek as he stares down into your eyes. The look in his enchanting icy blues suddenly so soft and gentle as he gazes down on you.

“You want to stop, just say the word and it stops, ey?” Tommy promises, stroking his thumb tenderly along your cheek. Needing you to know you’re in control of this and he’d never do anything to you that you didn’t want him to.

For a man so rarely soft with others, his gentleness toward you and the sight of him like this melts your heart and makes you all the more desperate to have him.

“I want you,” You say, words dripping with need as you dig your fingers into his hair, dragging him back down to your lips, rocking your hips against him with impatience.

Tommy breathes hard against your mouth, nearly fucking unraveling at the need on your breath alone. He kisses you hard, the hold of his mouth echoing the words on your lips. Stealing your breath before he plants a trail of pecks and nips along the line of your jaw. Reaching that sensitive spot, just below your ear, Tommy makes you shiver as he runs his teeth over it as he thrusts inside your warm wet depths.

You cry out with the feel of him, full and completely yours once again as your arms clutch wildly around his neck, your legs locking around his hips. Holding him as close as possible, savoring this moment and the way it makes you feel whole and not alone all at the same time.

Tommy stops moving too, steady within you, flooded by the sensation of having you all his once again. Wrapped and clenched tightly around him, the feeling sends a string of curses both romani and English spilling from his lips against your neck as Tommy tries to maintain some semblance of self-control.

Tommy’s slow, deliberate, and careful as he starts to rock within you. You’d think he were trying to make love, but you know that’s not what this is, he’s unsure. Tommy’s unsure what you want, what you can handle, but after being deprived of the man you love for so long, careful isn’t what you want. You want him to love you with the same fire and passion he used to, as you dig your heels into arse, pushing him deeper with every thrust as you rock hips to meet his. Tommy knows you so well by now, he understands your unspoken words, as his forehead comes to rest against yours, his eyes barreling desperately down upon you.

“Faster?” He asks, his ragged breath trembling against your lips as his face holds tight, trying so hard to hold himself back for your sake.

“Faster,” You nod, kissing him hard as Tommy moans against your mouth in relief, letting his hips snap deep within you. It’s been so fucking long that you almost feel like a reckless youth, lost in the throes of passion as your hips roll to meet his every thrust as if you can’t get enough of him. You devour his mouth, hungry for the taste of him on your tongue, needing you as badly as you needs him. 

The energy is frantic, desperation rushing through your veins as you cling to each other, the small metal bedframe squeaking for mercy as it knocks into the wall. Tommy gives you everything he’s been holding inside. His fingers digging into the back of your thigh, gripping your leg higher against his hip as all his insatiable longing and unfulfilled desire for you savagely spills free.

His mouth leaves your own, trailing roughly down your neck as he ravages you, kissing and sucking away at your sensitive flesh as if he’s doesn’t give a damn what kind of marks he leaves in the morning. As if he wants the whole fucking world to know you’re his. Lost in the heat of passion, he bites down hard on the base of your neck like he has so many times before, growling against your skin as you wither beneath him, but this time something unexpected happens. 

This time a flash fills your mind. A memory – you’re down on the bed as Al sinks his teeth into your flesh pushing you to break and cry out. And suddenly, you’re shoving Tommy back from you as hard as you can before you even know what you’re doing. Your hands moving on instinct alone as your whole body goes rigid and your heart starts to race with fear instead of passion.

Tommy stops instantly, breath panting as he hovers over you and he quickly pulls out. Staring down at you, his endless oceans of blue blinding with concern as they rain down on you. His hand dares to cautiously touch the side of your cheek as he braces his weight on his other arm, trying to keep off you, give you room to breathe.

“It’s ok, Fee. You a’right?” Tommy asks, his eyes desperately searching your own, trying to understand what happened.

“Can you- can you not do that this time? …Please.” You voice sounds so rattled you hardly recognize it as your heart races tightly in your chest. Staring back into the depths of his blue eyes – blue, not brown – you hold onto the safety of knowing it’s Tommy. You’re with Tommy, but you still feel anxious. Still feel unsure of what happened. One moment your body was on fire and the next you’re trembling with a fear you hardly understand.

“Course,” Tommy nods, worry consuming his deep-set eyes as he runs his thumb tenderly along your cheek, before he rolls off you and onto his back against the mattress, to lay beside you. Chest rising and falling heavily, Tommy’s stares up at the ceiling, trying to cool off his body as anger and guilt rush through his veins. 

Guilt pummels his heart that he did something to remind you of that prick. Anger over all of it. That Al did things to you that left an imprint in your mind the way the shovels did for him.  It all comes rushing back at Tommy. What that bastard did to you. Did to you because of him. And maybe if you were still just Charlie’s nanny and not the woman he loves maybe you wouldn’t have been seen as leverage.

Tommy still can’t hardly think about it. Mostly, he tries to push it out of his mind until the time is right. But there’s still moments like this when it finds its way to the surface and fills him with so much blinding rage he can hardly contain it. It takes everything inside him to stay focused on the problem in front of him. He has to deal with Changretta and get the fuck out of the cage he’s been backed into in Small Heath and then Al’s his first priority. Tommy hasn’t said a word of this to Fiona, but he is determined to make that bastard pay for what he did. Now more than ever

The absence of Tommy leaves a hollow feeling reopening inside you. The proof that your scars still remain rattles you and leaves you unsure of yourself or who you are now. But you refuse to let that night steal all your happiness away. You’ve healed enough to decide you won’t let it take Tommy from you either. You refuse. Rolling onto your side, you snuggle against him and to your relief, he welcomes you into arms. 

Tommy doesn’t reject you like you worried he might, but the longing inside you still feels unquenched and you know it does for Tommy too though he won’t act on it now. Taking a bold step, you slip your hand beneath the blanket, and to your relief his body responds to the stroke of your hand almost instantly, reassuring you he still wants you. But you barely get a chance to touch him before Tommy is snatching your hand and dragging it back up to his chest, leaving your heart more confused than ever.

“It’s a’right, love. You don’ have to do that.” Tommy tells you, feeling guilty. He won’t treat you like that bastard. He won’t have you push your body to do things you aren’t ready for just to meet his needs. Especially not if you think it’s your duty after he took take of yours.

“Tommy, I want-“ You start, but he cuts you off before you can finish. Finding it hard to believe you actually want this after the fear he saw in your eyes.

“I’m sorry I frightened you.” Tommy says flatly, changing the subject. You’d think it was insincere, if you couldn’t see his eyes. His breath so low and steady, it sounds like a death order handed down from a Sargent Major to his subordinate infantry, but you can see in the depth of vulnerable blue eyes as they stare up at the ceiling… It kills him to think he scared you. And now he’s pulling away and shutting down, managing that feeling the only way Thomas Shelby knows how.

The look in Tommy’s eyes melt your heart as you lean up on your elbow and place tender kisses upon his shoulder, moving slowly down along the muscle of his chest. Letting your lips linger around his tattoo.

“You didn’t scare me.” You whisper against his skin, over the spot that covers his heart. Your hands roam over the muscles that contour and line his chest and taut stomach, the ridge of his pecks, the flex of his abs. There’s still traces of unease vibrating through your nerves, you can’t deny that, but they aren’t directed at Tommy. If anything, you feel safer by his side, in his arms. And you see now you’re both struggling from your own scars from that night. Tommy still feels guilty he didn’t prevent it, didn’t protect you. He doesn’t want to push you, but you need him to know this is still what you want.

Your knees dig into the bedding as you turn to him, your hands bracing against the solid warmth of his chest as move across him to straddle his hips.

“Fee-“ Tommy starts to protest before your eyes lock as you settle against him and he can see the passion reaching for him in your eyes.

“Tommy, you could never scare me.” You promise him. Staring down into those deep fucking eyes that pierce right through you like daggers, gnawing down deep in your belly. You don’t know what that was. It’s never happened to you before, but you’re sure of one thing… It had nothing to do with the way you feel about this man and had everything to do with what’s still lingering in you.

“I don’ entirely know what’s happened, Tommy, but I do know I still want you and I still want you to touch me… And I still want to touch you.” You confess, trying to explain it as best you can. Leaning down to place slow tender kisses along taut stomach for emphasis, leading a trail up his chest. Your blood pumping harder as you feel his muscles tighten slightly under your lips, responding to your touch. 

You know your gut was right as you feel Tommy’s hands splay against your hips. You lean back on him, staring down deep into his eyes, lost in anticipation of what’s to come, before slowly leaning down against his body to recapture the hunger of his mouth once again. With the demand of his kiss, the grip of hands roam the curves of your body, there’s no denying Tommy wants you. And there’s no denying you want him too as your hand slips between the press of your bodies, gripping and stroking him tightly as you draw him to your warmth, before you sink back down on him.

Tommy curses against your swollen lips as he breaks the kiss. Echoing the sharp intake of your breath. Your hands trail down his chest as you lean back on him, nails dragging against his flesh and along the muscles that contour his chest and taut stomach. Staring down into the madness of Tommy Shelby’s eyes, as penetrating as they are blue, you gather up your nightdress and pull it over your head, revealing yourself completely to him. The fabric barely slips over your head before your feel Tommy’s hands glide over your hips, his palms racing along your back. Sending shivers down your spine as he sits up on the bed, pulling you desperately close to steal your breath in a demanding kiss.

Your arms wrap around Tommy, feeling his muscles flex and tighten beneath your palms, his chest rise and fall flush against your own, so close his breathes could practically be yours. Tommy’s heart pounds as he moves you against him, wrapping his arms around your body, holding you close. He lightly rests his head against yours, his hand roaming and caressing all the places he knows will makes you shiver and sigh.

You run your hands up the back of his head just to feel his shorn hair pick against your palms, your back arching against him as your head falls back. Your mind lost in a haze of delirium, his hot skin flush with your own as the bow of your back sends Tommy pushing deeper within you, your bodies move perfectly in sync. You’re fighting for breath as your belly coils, pushing closer to the edge. And you know you’re not the only one dancing with fire as Tommy’s drag you more feverishly against him.

You breathe him in, this man you love. Staring deep into his eyes that mirror back your image as your noses brush and lips meet, as Tommy moves you both as if you were always made to joined like this. You love him, and he loves you, you can feel it in that moment as surely as you can feel his hands grip and mold at your flesh, as surely as you can feel his heavy breath upon your lips. 

And in that moment, everything else falls away. All the pain, all the guilt, the room and its bloody walls, until it’s only you and him, lost madly in each other. In the fever of what you can create between your bodies. Your thighs clench as your hands grip him tighter, feeling your body charge closer and closer to your mounting release. The pressure and hunger for it blinding back at you in the captive hold of his pupil.

You’re delirious and drunk off this moment, you’d stay here forever if you could, as the need for release builds rapidly inside you. You whimper his name chasing the high his body gives you, his love amplifies.

“That’s it, love. Let me feel you come.” Tommy encourages, his breath as ragged as the cry of his name off your lips.

“With me,” You beg him, pressing your lips frantically to his in your request as your pull Tommy impossibly closer against you. You need this to be with him. After everything. You need to find each other, burn alive together.

Gripping your hair tightly against the back of your head, Tommy nods against your mouth as you fight to hold back your release. Your body aching as he drags you faster against the length of him, filling you completely with every thrust, as his hands grow heavy and insistent against your sweat beaded skin. Your thighs tremble trying to hold off, you’re right on the edge of climaxing. Your mind unraveling under the pressure as you try to hold on, and then he says it.

“Now,” Tommy urges desperately against your lips in a rush of breath and suddenly, you let go, breathe gasping against his parted lips in frantic relief. 

Clinging desperately to Tommy as your head presses deeply against his. You stare lost and delirious into his icy eyes as cries of ecstasy fall from your lips and mirror his own.  Your bodies tremble as you hold onto one another, ecstasy racing like an inferno through your veins, the same euphoric fire dancing in the pupils of his dilated eyes as you climax together.

Your forehead rests against Tommy as your body nearly collapses against him, slick with mingled sweat, your panting breathes meet as a quiet hum still vibrates through you. You hold Tommy close as he holds you flush against him. You look deep into Tommy’s eyes, staring into the endless abyss of them, feeling as if there isn’t an ounce of space between you left in this world. Savoring the feel of seeing him completely, of feeling as if he can see you completely too. Connected in every way and completely unafraid.

As the moment passes your head comes to rest against his shoulder completely exhausted as you snuggle in his arms and feel Tommy’s face settle against your shoulder. Wrapped in each other, all warm flesh, tangled up tightly, your baby hidden between you. Running your hands along the back of his shorn hair, you finally speak.

“After Tony, I never thought I’d feel this way again… Never thought I wanted to.” You whisper to Tommy as you reflect upon your words, hoping he understands what you’re trying to say. That you love him. That you’ll always love him. And you see now there’s no hand grenade this world can throw at you that’s going to change that.

Tommy runs his hand gently up the length of your back, his fingers tangling in your wild hair as he leans in to place a soft kiss against your shoulder.

“…After Grace, I didn’t either.” His words settle under your skin and shiver down your spine as tears well up in your eyes. Maybe it’s the hormones. Maybe it’s just relief. But for the first time since you walked into that hotel lounge and faced Al over a month ago, you have hope you and Tommy will survive this.

 For the first time in a long time you think things might finally be turning a corner. Things might finally be looking up.  The war with mafia seems to be shifting tides. Finally, back in each other’s arms where you belong, Tommy keeps you updated on the plans at hand. He knows the truth is important to you, so he gives it. Whispering to you in the dark about a deal he’s made with an American gangster named Al Capone. The connection your Al made for him, though he never says his name to you, not once. He tells you, now that Capone has his first shipments of gin he’s making arrangements for men to aid in ending this war with Changretta. The news fill your heart with hope. You know putting an end to this won’t be easy, but finally things are starting to go right.

Tommy’s busy. He’s always busy. You’ve grown so accustom to it you’re not sure what you’d do if he ever had time for leisure. In that way, he reminds you of your father. Never enough time. Not enough hours in the day to quench the kind of ambition that rumbles and wages war inside Tommy, calling out for blood before the day is thru. 

The upcoming fight consumes his mind most readily these days, as surely as the gin he keeps insisting everyone try. He’s going fucking mad. Like a horse kept cooped up in the stall too long. The vendetta has him back in a corner for the time being. Back to his roots, where he came from as if to remind Tommy he can never really escape it. And perhaps that’s what gets to Tommy the most, but you can’t be certain.

So when Tommy insists you accompany him and the rest of the family to a boxing match he’s holding, you can’t turn down the chance to spend a night out on the arm of your sweetheart. And the fact that he finally wants to show the world you’re his, gives you added hope things might actually work out. 

You haven’t told Tommy about the baby, there hasn’t been a chance, and if you’re honest, you’re still a little afraid. Unsure of how he’ll take the news or how he’ll want to proceed. But you saw the midwife Pol sent you to and she estimated you were nearly three months gone, effectively removing Al’s as a contender… you at least had that.

You don’t know what to expect on your night out. You’re never been to a fight before. Never been to a show of any kind really. Not since you were a girl. After Finn, money was too scarce to spend on entertainment of any kind. So when you arrive with Tommy and the rest of the family at a grand old theatre it nearly takes your breath away. Balconies and showboxes three floors high, but you get a front row seat like you’re a real Shelby.

Tommy looks dapper in a black suit and white undershirt. Sporting his fine wirer glasses that make you gnaw at your bottom lip just to stop yourself from biting his. You tell yourself he has no idea how handsome he is, what the sight of him does to you, but not even you are that fool hearty. Everyone is dressed in their finest attire, specialty dresses purchased just for tonight, and you worry you’ll have nothing suitable to wear. But Tommy’s taken care of that too. Thinking of everything, always one step ahead. 

He surprises you with a new dress. Black to match his suit, long and slinky, with sparkles like diamonds that glisten off the theatre lights, straps that hang thinly on your shoulders, with a back cut dangerously low. You feel beautiful. More beautiful than you can remember feeling in a very long time, but the way Tommy looks at you in the dress, his eyes fixated and unwavering before a sexy smirk slowly covers his face… You feel like the most beautiful woman in the world. You only hope you might be able to steal a few moments alone with him somewhere tonight.

You sit with the other Shelby women and Lizzie at the edge of ring. Across from the men, but still in the heart of it all. Watching as the fight unfolds between an unfair match in your opinion, one big, the other small. And as the fight begins, your eyes reach across the ring in search of him, but Tommy’s nowhere to be found and that’s when it starts… the uneasy feeling that begins to stir and come to life in your belly. 

At first you caulk it up to the pregnancy. You haven’t felt like yourself since you put the pieces together, but then it doesn’t leave you, even after Tommy finally returns. Your eyes focus on Tommy across the ring from you. Losing sight of the fight as your gaze zeros in on him. You’re filled with an unshakable sense of unease even as Tommy catches your gaze across the ropes and smiles over at your reassuringly.

You watch Arthur beside him. He’s agitated, fidgeting about, mouth going on about things you can’t make out, but clearly leave him unsettled. His movements only heighten the tension inside you. Validating its presence as he turns to his brother, muttering words you can’t hear him say. But you feel it deep in your bones the way you felt it the night your brother died… Somethings not right. You try to distract yourself with the fight. Get lost in the thirst for the blood the crowd is hungrily chanting for. Getting wrapped up in the rhythm of swinging fists and boxers dancing around the ring, light on their feet.

You even follow the ladies into the women’s lavatories as they pass around gin to swig, only you don’t swig just pass and only Polly knows why. You try to let yourself get lost in their banter about men crying for blood, but you can’t shake the tension building steadily inside you. As you all return to your seats for the fight, you force yourself to watch as the Romani boy, Bonnie gets the beating of a lifetime.

 You force yourself to enjoy the moment you were looking forward to so dearly earlier that day, but when Arthur storms off from his seat your eyes don’t miss it. You find yourself steadily moving to the edge of your seat as the fight disappears around you. And when Tommy stands abruptly, his eyes fixated on something you can’t pinpoint, before taking off after it, your heart jumps in your throat like a lump of coal to choke you with.

You don’t miss a beat as you rise numbly from your seat, heart hammering in your chest. Polly grabs at your arm in concern, but you only force a smile as you glance down at her.

“Lavartory.” You explain, not wanting to rile her up too if there’s nothing to report. You need to be certain before you make any claims. So as her arms releases you, you move steadily in the direction you saw Tommy disappear to, pushing through rowdy men as your heels stick to the spit and booze littering the floor.

Every instinct inside you screams something is wrong, it rattles in the hollows of your chest, tying your belly in knots with every step as the hairs on the back of your neck rise on end. You follow down a darken tile hallway, your heels clipping as your move. Until you enter a hall gleaming in blue lighting, bouncing and shining off the white tile walls until the whole areas glows like standing at the bottom of the sea. It leaves you with such unease, like standing at the bottom of the ocean and you can’t catch your breath.

Your heart hammers in your chest as your feet move slowly along the tile. Apprehension building in your heart with every step as you try to listen for Tommy. You find yourself second guessing turning down this way. Unsure you chose the right path. Your hand slowly finds its way across your belly, protectively clutching the tiny swell the way you would Finn if he were standing beside you. 

You find it hard to catch your breath as anxiety and tension build all around and deep within your bones. Then you hear it! A gun shot, the noise ringing off the tile walls, echoing around you. Moments later you hear Tommy’s voice hollering out for Arthur and you swear your heart stops beating all together inside your chest.

It only takes you a second, a second for sheer terror on your heart. And in the next, you’re clutching at the bottom of your dress as you race as fast as you call down that ominous corridor, you voice echoing around you as you go. Terrified you’re going to lose the man you love all over again. 

“Tommy!” You scream.

You have no weapon, there’s no thought or reason to your actions, just desperation and the desire to protect what’s precious to you. You turn abruptly at a corner, a wall of thick foggy steam surrounds you, envelopes you. Your heels freeze in their spot unable to see much of anything, it takes you a moment to adjust before you realize there’s a dead man lying sprawled at your feet.

You jump back in fright, your back slamming against the tile wall before you register Tommy calling your name and look up to find him crouched in the corner of the room, Arthur lying bloody in his hands.

“Get a fuckin towel- rag- somethin!” Tommy yells at you. He never yells at you, but the fear in his eyes is unmistakable as your frantically scan the room for anything usable. Snatching up the first piece of cloth you can find you rush over to him, trying not to slip on the slick tile.

Tommy grabs for your wrist, yanking you down to him as your knees slam hard against the unforgiving tile below, but you barely feel it as his eyes engulf you – his pupils dilated, a terrifying madness palpable in his gaze.

Tommy shoves your hands with the rag down against Arthur’s neck and the force of it sends your gaze following suit. You stare down at Arthur, blood soaked through the collar of his shirt, seeping out onto the white tiles around you as Tommy shoves your hands harder against his wound. You can feel yourself trembling, your mind scrambling to form any short of coherent thought when you feel Tommy’s hand cup your jaw and pull your face back up to his.

“I need ya to keep pressure on it, Fee. Gotta slow the bleeding. I have to go get some men and get Arthur outta here. But I need you to stay here and keep pressure on it, ey?” Tommy instructs you, his voice a low deadly whisper as he drags his blood smeared thumb across your cheek, trying to calm the panic racing off your breath.

You give him a shaky nod and that’s all Tommy needs as he rises to his feet. You hear a clank at your side moments later, and glance over to see Tommy’s placed a gun on the tile beside you.

“Keep this with you.” He orders, before the clip of his shoes against the tile can be heard quickly storming out of the room, leaving you completely alone with his brother’s life in your hands.

You glance back at down Arthur, his eyes wide and full of fear as your press firmly down on his neck, watching the rag your found darken with his blood. You notice the second pool of blood at your side and realize a few of his fingers have been nearly cut clean from the bone at the tips. You’re stomach churns as your push down the sudden urge to gag.

Drawing your eyes back to Arthur, you focus on only that. On reassuring him.

“It’s gonna be ok, Arthur. You’re gonna be a’right. Just stay with me. I’ll get Linda for you as soon as I can.” You promise, whispering to him softly as your words rattle with fear off your lips, heart pounding.

You feel his undamaged hand reach for you. Watch as it settles over the top of yours, before you turn one of your palms over and grip his hand tightly with reassurance. In that moment he reminds you so much of your brother the night you found lying beaten and dying in an alleyway outside the flat you shared. That fear a man gets in his eyes when he thinks this is the end. The fear you get in your own when you’re not sure if you’ll be the last thing they see. When you feel so small and helpless to change the rising tides.

But this won’t be that moment. Arthur won’t end up like your brother. You swear it as you clutch his hand tightly and hold back the tears shining in your eyes. “You’re gonna be a’right Arthur. I promise.” You repeat, forcing a smile for him, your chest so tight you can hardly breathe.