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shewrites444 · 9 months

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arranged - part 2 [thomas shelby x reader smut]

[ this is part 2 of my first thomas shelby fic, arranged, which you can read through the link. i will say this storyline is a bit heavier in terms of tommy’s tv character, given he can be, well, toxic. also, this fic is like extremely detailed, just as a fair warning. ]

word count - 3.4k

[ summary - months after their wedding night, the reader and tommy experience their first real issue at arthur’s birthday dinner. there’s much more to their relationship than they realize, as they physically prove to each other how deep their affections go. ]

[ warnings - jealousy, accusations of cheating, dirty talk, slight bondage, unprotected & rough sex ]

shockingly, the morning after tommy and i first slept together, we grew much closer to each other, so much so that i had a trusted role through the peaky blinders when it came to their finances and arrangement of meetings. tommy was reluctant at first, but given that i was the reason they were five times wealthier and also had much more property now, my points were well made to him and his family.

i wouldn’t say i was bossy, but i knew what i wanted, and despite tommy’s attitude in front of his family, he sure seemed to like it when we were alone. i thoroughly believed i knew him pretty well, even if we had only been married for four months now.

i knew i didn’t want to be the type of woman who stayed back home and let their husband do all the work, but there were days where i was exhausted, wether it was from staying up late working on the money distribution, or making sure tommy’s son was asleep before the sun was up. overall, i wanted to work, and i wanted to have a place in not necessarily the peaky blinders, but his family, because they were now mine too, and truthfully, the only people i had now that my father was gone.

something polly and i agreed to work on together was arthur’s birthday dinner. i wasn’t very close to arthur, which was perfectly fine, but i wanted tommy’s family to know i cared. polly needed the help anyway, given how busy the boys had been lately, so i kept my promise to help her set up, plan the guest list, and get the gifts for arthur. from what tommy told me, he seemed to be having a rough time lately, but a party would probably cheer him up and help him get out of such a negative headspace, even if it was only for a few hours.

after we finished setting out the utensils, i rushed upstairs to get myself ready before tommy came home. part of me was hoping tonight wasn’t all about business for tommy, because while we had grown much more fond of each other lately, his mind was still so enclosed in his work. i knew we weren’t in love, but we had something there - more than just physically.

as i was slipping on my evening gown, i hear the bedroom door creak open, turning around to see tommy, who looked up to me with a drunken smile. my eyes widen a bit, more confused than shocked to see him in such a drunken state so early, as i walk towards him, helping him slip off his jacket onto the hanger next to the door.

“arthur insisted we start the party early. i promise this wasn’t intentional, [y/n]. i don’t want to be in too much trouble so soon with you.” tommy said through a suggestive smile, taking my face in one hand before pulling me into a kiss, the taste and smell of whiskey heavy against his lips.

i return his kiss, but lightly push him off of me, walking back to the dresser to grab my necklace from the jewelry box. tommy walks over and takes it from my hands, brushing my hair off my neck and clasping the metal for me. i smile softly, looking to him through the mirror and shaking my head in disbelief, amazed that he even agreed to get drunk so early in the evening.

“i may have to monitor you tonight, tommy. how many drinks have you had?” i question as i turn around, wrapping my arms around his neck and pulling him into another kiss.

i feel his hands slide down my back and to my ass, attempting to lift me onto the dresser before i stop him once again. i shake my head, pecking his lips again before pulling away. “that gives me a pretty clear answer.” i tease, leaning down to slip on my heels. “i didn’t think i’d have to be babysitter tonight, especially for my husband, the most serious man i know.”

“oh, [y/n], you and i both know i can loosen up when i choose to.” he took my hand and walked towards the door, opening it and gesturing for me to walk through first. he snaked his arm around my back, holding me tightly, and protectively, as we walked down the wooden stairs. “who knows, maybe i’ll loosen this tonight too.” he pats my ass, tugging at the fabric of my silk dress, which only made me blush at his suggestion. i roll my eyes and link our arms together, opening the front door to begin our short walk to the brewery.

a fairly large crowd of tommy’s family and friends were already there, surrounding the bar and drinking more alcohol than what i’d ever seen in my life. there was a side of tommy’s family i wasn’t fully exposed to yet, and i knew i’d receive quite the introduction to it tonight.

“there’s some people i’d like you to meet tonight. is that alright?” he asks in a more serious tone, despite his drunken appearance. even with alcohol in his system, tommy still knew how to conduct business, and the room around him.

i nod at his question, to where he then takes me to the bar and gestures me towards several people, business colleagues and family friends, who were all very kind to me, and addressed me never by my first name, only “mrs. shelby”.

i felt someone bump into me, averting my eyes from the woman i was speaking to and to none other than arthur, who was so drunk that i was almost surprised polly wasn’t having a nervous breakdown at the sight of the much more than tipsy birthday boy. i give him a soft smile and shake my head, taking his arm and helping guide him to one of the round tables.

“i think you need water, arthur. let me go get you one.” i say, standing up and staring to walk towards the bar again, before his hand unexpectedly grabs me by the waist, forcing me down onto his lap. my cheeks go red in the matter of a millisecond, immediate discomfort and anxiety rising to the surface.

“stop it, arthur, please. just let me go get you something to drink.”

arthur chuckles, keeping his grip so firm on my waist that i genuinely couldn’t get up without causing a scene. “[y/n], i always thought you were too good for tommy, from the day i met you. change it up a bit, eh? he wouldn’t mind it for a night.”

i scoff, glancing down to the drunk arthur before aggressively pushing myself off of him, taking the drink he was holding in one hand away and setting it on the table across from him.

“fuck off, arthur. you’re his brother. i know it’s your birthday, but i am the last thing you’d be getting as a gift tonight.” i run my hands down my dress to brush off the wrinkles his grip created. “sober up.”

i turn around and walk away with a quickening pace, opening the brewery door and heading back to the house. a part of me was hoping tommy didn’t see that because i knew he’d make a scene, and tonight wasn’t the night to cause any trouble.

i walked into the kitchen and grabbed a cigarette, lighting it the second i sat down at the dining room table, sighing as i blew out the smoke and rested back into the chair. it wouldn’t leave my head, the whole situation. i knew i had to tell tommy because he’d be upset if he found it out from anyone but me, and i knew this was going to be some sort of trust test - if arthur was lying, or if i was. fuck. either way, i had to go back, or they’d be confused as to where i was, and the last thing i wanted tonight was for the attention to be on me.

walking back to the brewery with a cigarette in hand, i opened the door and returned to the reeking smell of alcohol. i wince as it hits my nostrils, forcing myself into the room that now felt so suffocating.

i feel a light tap on my shoulder and glance down to see polly, a frown on her face as she guides me to the corner of the room.

“you know have to tell me what happened, dear. i’ve got arthur in the other room, far away from tommy. i don’t think he’s aware of the whole situation, but arthur didn’t seem to help explain your side.”

i sigh, crossing my arms and leaning against the wall. “of course he didn’t. he tried being suggestive with me and pulled me onto him, made it look like something it definitely was not. i went back to the house to cool off. i don’t want tommy to think it was my doing. i would ne-”

“i know you wouldn’t.” polly gave me a small smile of reassurance. she look my hand and walked me towards the private room in the back, one part of the brewery that was set up more like a meeting room. “tommy’s in there, i think it’s best you go to talk to him. i know you’re being truthful, and i do think he believes you, dear, but he needs to hear it from you. not me.”

i nod, biting at my bottom lip as a pit began to form in my stomach, knowing that this wasn’t going to be an easy conversation. while i do think tommy believed me, or i at least hoped so, his image and my own was at stake. people who didn’t know me so well that saw arthur and i’s interaction may take me to be a cheater, and tommy to be carefree towards our marriage, even with his own brother coming into it. the entire situation wasn’t good for anyone.

i creak the wooden door open, meeting tommy’s eyes immediately upon entering the room. i shut it behind me and walk over, standing before the long table he was sitting at, silently. i sigh.

“you know i would never hurt you, tommy. he grabbed me, telling me he wanted me and that i was too good for you. you know i pushed myself off. i wouldn’t do that, ever.” i justify, crossing my arms and looking down at him as he stares at the table. “you, and your entire family, mean a lot to me. i would never want to put this arrangement, or us, in jeopardy.”

tommy sat up, walking towards me and reaching over to hug me softly, where i return his gesture by wrapping my arms around him tightly. i sigh, leaning my head onto his shoulder with relief. after a few seconds, he pulled away, grabbing me by the waist and helping me to sit on the table.

“you know how this looks for me, you, and my family though, right?” tommy begins, sliding up my dress, just enough for it to rest on my lower stomach. “i know you, [y/n], and i trust you, but members of the peaky blinders and others we work with don’t yet. they see you as more a placeholder for the void i haven’t been able to fill in years. do you understand that?”

i frown, looking up to tommy and reaching down to pull my dress back down. “tommy, that’s really not a nice thing to say to me. i don’t think anyone sees-”

“well, they fucking do.” he interrupts, grabbing my hands and setting them on the table.

he loosens his tie and pushes me down on my back, sliding the fabric off and onto my wrists, hastily tying them together above my head before pulling me down, my legs now fully hanging off the table, my heels falling down and onto the floor due to the angle i was laying at.

“you and i both know i don’t care much for what others think, but when it comes to this, to you, i care. you and i aren’t ever going to be perfect, but i think we have something, and i know you agree.” he says, unbuckling his belt and sliding his pants down, the sound of the metal clashing against the wooden floor. “we have more than just this,” he says, gesturing to our bodies, “but right now, i’m more focused on those people out there knowing at least apart of us is together.”

i gulp, a rapid heat forming in my core as i watch him undress himself into nothing but his half buttoned dress shirt. he pumps himself in one hand, the other reaching over to rub my clit, causing me to moan loudly upon touch.

he grinned at my response, looking between my legs and watching himself touch me. “you are mine, mrs. shelby. no one else’s. i know you know that, but it seems that i’ll have to prove it to everyone else in the world, too.” he walked closer, grabbing my panties that hung on one leg and slipping the off, before gesturing for me to open my mouth, shoving them inside.

“can you be quiet for just a few minutes, love? i don’t want to fuck you like a whore, but it seems that i have to.” he leaned down to kiss my forehead softly, lips then trailing to my ear. “if you can take it, i’ll let you have your fun with me after, hm? i’ve been so busy lately, we haven’t had much time together. i bet you want my cock inside that pretty mouth of yours, [y/n].”

i nod to my husband, feeling him grab my body and turn me around in response. he helps me to lean against the table, my arms still tied and now laying in front of me as i arch my back, pressing myself against tommy while he aligns himself with my pussy. i feel him slide inside me, moaning through the fabric in my mouth, as tommy does the same, but more freely, of course.

he grabs me by my waist, fucking me like there was no tomorrow for either of us. his hands hold my hips firmly, the sounds of our sweating skin slapping together filling the room, along with the accompaniment of my muffled moans. yet my mouth, being hung open, made my panties to fall out and onto the table, which only caused tommy to slap his hand harshly against my ass, making me yell at his touch.

“you really can’t control yourself, [y/n]? am i going to have to stop?”

“fuck - no, tommy, please don’t stop!” i shout, my hands flat against the table and my face resting on top of them while he rocked my body back and forth. “i-i can put them back, baby, just please don’t stop..”

“this isn’t like you, love, so fucking desperate.. although you always get what you want, so i can’t be surprised. are you getting fucked like you want? you like taking me from the back? it’s not your usual style.” he teases, reaching past me to grab the underwear, tossing them to the floor. “keep talking and they won’t have to go back. i never hear you like this, [y/n]. i like when you beg. i didn’t know you could act like such a slut.”

i shake my head, burying the side of my face into my hands as he only pushes himself deeper, his fast-paced strokes calming down and his rhythm changing into something so much slower, but so much deeper than before. i feel him in my gut, my eyes closing as i savor every thrust he gave me.

“i-i think about it like this, sometimes…” i mutter, leaning my head up and gasping, feeling tommy grab the back of my head with one hand. “you fucking me from behind, so fucking deep, practically torturing me through my orgasm… fuck, tommy, i want it to hurt so much that it feels good.. i want you to make me sore..”

tommy groaned, leaning down to angle himself in a way that he was so deep inside of me that his balls slapped against my clit with each movement. he wiped the sweat off his forehead before moving that hand to my ass, the other holding my waist firmly. “you have a way with words, don’t you, mrs. shelby? i can make it hurt, if that’s what you’d prefer. i can make all those people know how much my wife wants to be treated like a little slut.”

i blush, nodding at his words and resting my chin against the table. “fuck me like you own me, mr. shelby.”

“i think you’re going to have to prove yourself if you want me to do that, love.”

tommy slowly pulls himself out of me, my pussy rapidly pulsating as i adapts to his release, his hands helping assist me into leaning up and onto the floor, where he then laid on his back, erection in the air. i lay on top of him, where he unties the tie and sets it on the ground. he kisses me passionately, taking me by the waist and leaning me up.

“bounce on my cock until you can’t anymore, hm? you wanna hurt, right? this is the best way to do that.” he tilts his head, assisting me into sliding onto his length, causing both of us to heavily moan into the new position, which somehow, brought us both to an even better feeling than before.

“touch yourself for me, love. i wanna see how much you can take.” tommy commands, reaching over to hold both of my breasts, playing with the nipples as i move one hand down to my clit, rubbing the sensitive bud as i grind on top of him, his cock hitting my insides perfectly.

i chew my bottom lip, looking down to tommy as i fuck him, nothing but a plain look that still displayed pleasure on his face, watching me move up and down, my fingers pressing onto my skin while he plays with my tits.

i felt like i was melting, so overstimulated that i wasn’t sure how much longer i could even move. my eyesight was clouded by the sweat on my eyelashes, my entire body drenched in sweat while i fucked my husband through my own touch, my orgasm climbing to the surface and in a matter of seconds, reaching its peak.

“fuck!” i moan, riding it out as i came, my own fluids mixing with tommy’s while he pushed himself up, the two of us thrusting at each other, our bodies clashing through each of our climaxes. i feel tommy fill my insides, my own fluids leaking from between us as he cock blocked anything further.

i pull myself off of him, his orgasm dripping from between my legs as i slowly stand up, holding the table as support, watching tommy walk over to hold me, kissing me gently and leaving love bites across my neck, and chest.

“i’d prefer our motivation to fuck like that not be caused by an outside source the next time, mrs. shelby. if you want to be fucked like a whore, just say it. i think you know i don’t mind.” he grinned, kissing my forehead before walking over to a cart of drinks, grabbing a few towels and sitting me on the table, starting to wipe down my body.

“i don’t think i can be fucked like that for some time, tommy. i don’t think i’d be able to get out of bed in the morning.” i blush, watching him slide the towel down my inner thighs to wipe himself off of me. “we’ve been gone for awhile anyway, don’t you think we should get back to the party?”

“in just a minute, [y/n].” tommy says, setting the towel down before spreading my legs a bit further. he kisses between my thighs, before gently rubbing my clit, causing my back to arch at the touch. “i think my wife needs to cum again, don’t you think?”

i sigh, leaning back against the table and holding the sides of it. “fuck, tommy.” i moan feeling his arms wrap around my thighs, his face now buried between my heated skin. “i think so, too.”

#smut writing #cillian murphy #fanfic #smut #thomas shelby #thomas shelby x reader smut #thomas shelby imagine #peaky blinders #peaky blinders x reader #thomas shelby peaky blinders #peaky blinders x y/n #female #female reader #thomas shelby x reader #thomas shelby x y/n #thomas shelby smut

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lis-likes-fics · 11 months

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A Deal’s a Deal

Pairings: Tommy Shelby x Gold!Reader Word Count: 11.7k words Warnings: NSFW, smut, swearing, smoking, oral (f and m!receiving), dom/sub themes, degradation, virgin!reader, gun kink, dirty talk, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, Tommy is mean and she wants him to be ... A/N: So this was absolutely filthy and I will not apologize. I am American, but I used to British spelling for (as many of) the words that I caught because sometimes I like it better and it also just fit more for the fic. Also, when I say “gun kink”, I mean gun kink. This is filthy shit. Who knows? I may consider writing a second... Enjoy.

Keen eyes were the first thing Tommy noticed as Aberama Gold walked onto the yard, a sly smirk set in place among blond hair and a suit likely just as expensive as his own. The way his eyes surveyed the yard, examined every inch he could without touching any of it, even stopping by Charlie for a word, made Tommy aware it was for more than just surveillance.

Aberama finally approached, his men following after with their own vigilance. "I just took a look around. I like this place," he announced. "Fire for melting silver, canal to get it away." He stopped in front of him, well out of reach but just as imposing as the growing headache Tommy felt nagging at the back of his head. "How much?"

Tommy took a long look at him, still as a statue as blue eyes pierced through blue eyes. He considered not even regarding the question, moving on to more pressing business and pretending it had never been asked, but he knew better. Arthur drank from his flask.

"Nothing you see here is for sale, Mr. Gold."

He disagreed. "Oh, everything's for sale. Everything."

Tommy pinched his cigarette between his fingers, bringing it to his lips but not quite slipping it through yet. Aberama spilled the rest of the tea in his cup into the fire, which roared with the fuel to its flames.

"You tell Mr. Strong I'm going to buy his yard." He didn't leave room for debate.

But Tommy didn't care. "This yard has been in his family since they settled." He moved the cigarette between his lips.

"But I've decided to make it a part of our deal."

There was a long pause as the men stared each other down, testing the other's strength, their tolerance of cold eyes. The sounds of metal and fire and cups on tables next to them filled the silence and fueled the suspense of a standoff.

"Charlie?" Tommy finally spoke, calling to his uncle. "Charlie, come here." He obliged with a sigh. As he stood next to him with a dirty rag to clean dirty hands, Tommy continued. "Gonna spin a coin for your yard, Charlie."

Frustration was quick to settle at his words. He dropped his hands at his sides. "You're goin' to what?"

Tommy didn't spare him a glance, never breaking contact with Aberama as he spoke. "If it's heads, Abbie here takes all of this with my blessing."

"Tommy?" Charlie warned, upset.

"And if it's tails…" he considered for a moment, gesturing to Aberama with his cigarette in hand, "I fuck your daughter, Mr. Gold."

Aberama's grin fell. Arthur laughed, a stifled laugh into his arm at the offer. Tommy's demeanour did not change.

Now, Tommy was a smart man who did his research. He knew all about Aberama Gold's family, but more specifically about his daughter—and, even more specifically, about his oldest. He knew she was a primary school teacher, how that came to be, he was sure it was with the help of her father. He knew she was Aberama's firstborn, born from another woman he'd fallen for but lost too quick to be left without love. Lastly, he knew she was without a husband, or even a suitor with the potential of wedding bells. With how beautiful you had been rumoured to be, he didn't understand it.

He was shocked he hadn't already had you yet.

"You have three daughters, I hear, and Y/N is the oldest and also the prettiest, so I'll have her. So make her part of the deal and spin against the yard." He replaced his cigarette between his lips, putting his hands in his pockets.

Arthur was still amused. The same could not be said for Charlie as he stepped closer. "Tommy, for fuck's sake."

Tommy fished for a coin in his pocket, flicking it over. "Here, you toss the coin, Mr. Gold."

He caught it easily, staring down Tommy before moving the coin in his palm to examine it thoughtfully. Then he smiled, a slow smile spreading over his lips, ready to call a bluff.

Tommy shook his head, just as serious and solemn as before as he took in his grin. "No." He shook his head, raising a finger to point at him with grim intent. "Please don't believe this is a joke, the coin to us is sacred. Yes, Arthur?"

"Sacred," Arthur agreed, his eyes as still and as menacing as his brother's.

They continued to stare. Aberama continued to think.

Tommy gave his warning. "You toss that coin, you take a bet before witnesses, and if I win…"

"Then we'll insist that the terms of this agreement…" Arthur tried again, "wager are fulfilled."

Tommy's eyes held a threat. "Toss the coin, Mr. Gold."

Aberama considered, setting the coin on the crook of his finger and propping his thumb underneath. He contemplated, debating himself and his luck silently as the sounds of metal and fire raged against the silence and pulled the tension taut. Loud, defeaning.

"Tommy Shelby, OBE," he mumbled, still considering. Tommy saw the moment of decision behind his eyes before it reached his face. The challenge, the question of "Perhaps?" warring in his mind. Aberama smiled a small smile. "I'll take your wager."

The Shelby boys tilted up their heads.

Aberama flipped the coin into the air, watching as it twirled and twirled and twirled. The coin made its descent into his hands and he sighed as he closed his palm and slapped it onto the back of his hand. The coin seared his flesh as he stared at Tommy, hoping to see the right side of the coin staring back at him when he unveiled the result.

They stared, tense. "Well?" Tommy raised a brow.

Aberama removed his hand.

And his luck drained as he stared down at the coin tails up to the world.

He lingered for a moment, feeling the eyes on him burning into his skin just as the coin did. "...Congratulations, Mr. Shelby," he breathed. He took the coin and showed the boys. "Tails."

Tommy's lip twitched, although it was hardly susceptible to the eye. "Tails," he repeated, his voice darker than before. He readjusted his stance, regarding Aberama as he spoke to the uncle at his side. "Go on back to work, Charlie. Your yard is safe."

Charlie stepped closer, asking the question as though he was whispering it just to him. "Are you actually going to fuck his daughter, Tom?"

Tommy still didn't look at Charlie, watching Aberama intensely, as if to remind him that this was all his fault.

People seemed to forget who he was. They seemed to forget that you shouldn't fuck around with Tommy fucking Shelby, OBE.

"A deal's a deal, Charlie," he said. "Isn't that right, Mr. Gold?"

He stared back with fire in his eyes. "Aye, Mr. Shelby."

The cab slowed to a stop in front of the large estate you were an expected guest in. Looking out of the window and through the dark, your stomach flipped at the prospect of the meeting you were meant to attend.

Your father had told you that the infamous Thomas Shelby was interested in meeting you. You were grading loads of papers at the time when you stopped to look at him, frozen in confusion. You asked him why and he brushed off the topic like he hadn't even brought it up, giving you a time and date and leaving it at that.

And now you're here, staring at his house and feeling the anxiety of how this evening would go as you stepped out of the car and watched him drive off. You fixed your dress, straightened your spine, and released a breath before beginning the looming evening with a walk up to the door through the dark, guided only by the lamps outside.

You clicked the knocker three times, waiting with your clutch held tightly in front of you. As the door was pulled open, you were somehow relieved to be met with an older woman. Though her blue eyes were shocking and her quirked brow was intimidating, she offered a kind smile and you were put to ease.

You really shouldn't have been as anxious as you were. You were a Gold and a gypsy—if something bad was going to happen to you, you would know and you wouldn't be there in the first place.

But this was Thomas Shelby, and you were terrified. He was rumoured to be the devil himself.

The woman opened the door wider. "Hello." She looked you up and down before stepping aside. "Come in."

You thanked her quietly, walking into the house and glancing around. It was nice. "How may I help you this late in the night?" she wondered, clasping her hands behind her as she awaited your answer.

"Um…" You smiled bashfully but not without the air of respect you've grown into and been taught to demand. "I don't actually know why I'm here. My father, Aberama Gold, sent me to see Tommy Shelby. I am to have an appointment with him?"

She hummed, "Of course. Wait here while I go fetch him." She began to walk off before correcting herself, looking back at you with a respectful smile. "Would you like a cup of tea while you wait?"

"No, thank you."

She left.

You stood in the foyer, twiddling your thumbs atop your clutch as your heart skips in your chest. With a calming breath, you steadied yourself, closing your eyes and waiting patiently.

You swung a foot out, taking a step forward as you wandered farther down the hall to see inside the main room. It was large, decorated sparsely with paintings and tiny statuettes. You didn't get a good look.

When she came back, she was not alone. Turning at the sound of shoes descending stairs, you saw him.

He still wore a suit. Although his jacket was removed, his timepiece was still in place connected to its chain. His sleeves were rolled up—you weren't sure why you noticed that so clearly.

He stared at you with a cigarette between his lips as his cold, blue eyes pierced your soul. Your heart jumped again. Anxious.

He watched you, looking you up and down and taking you in. He brought his hand up to remove his cigarette from between his lips, releasing a long, smoky breath. The look in his eyes shook you.

"Thank you, Mary." His voice was deep as it rumbled in his chest. "You can go to bed now."

Mary looked you up and down briefly. She bowed her head. "Yes, sir."

You didn't break eye contact with Tommy as she ascended the stairs. Even when she was completely gone, he didn't look away. The intensity of his gaze was hard to keep up.

You looked away.

"Come," he finally spoke, walking down the rest of the stairs and meeting you. He lingered in front of you for a moment, as if he just wanted a closer look, before continuing to move. You willed your feet to do so, following slowly behind him.

He took you to his study just off from the main room, pushing the door open to allow you inside. You entered silently, glancing along the room to take it in. He had a library, a burning fireplace, plenty of sofas, and a large wall of windows. The drapes were already drawn for the night, and the large room was illuminated by a small chandelier. You set your purse on the nearest table.

You watched Tommy walk toward his desk in front of the windows. He leaned on it, crossing one leg in front of the other. He stared at you again, and you quickly became frustrated with his gaze as you sighed gently and stood across from him, keeping plenty of distance.

Silence stretched on as he continued to stare and smoke, and you were growing impatient as you stared back. The longer he watched you, unyielding, the more you felt the need to squirm. It was only when you broke his eye contact again, like you had before on the stairs, that he decided to speak.

"Do you know why you're here, Miss Gold?" he asked.

Now that this was finally going somewhere, you sighed. "Y/N, and no," you replied.

He raised his brows. "What did your father tell you, Y/N?"

You shrugged. "That you wanted to meet me and nothing else." His vagueness was really beginning to frustrate you after enduring all of that staring. Why had he stared for so long?

Tommy hummed deep in his chest, looking you up and down with a little nod of his head. He put it bluntly as he gestured toward you with his cigarette. "Your father lied."

It was your turn to raise your brows. "I'm sorry?"

Tommy reached behind him to put his cigarette out, stifling it against the ashtray on his desk. "Your father flipped a coin for a bit of property and lost. In return," he looked at you again, speaking slowly, "he gave you to me to fuck."

Your heart was slamming into your ribcage at the knowledge. Images of such a thing flashed behind your eyes, and your throat went dry. You looked down at your shoes for a moment, blinking rapidly as you stretched your jaw. "I-I don't understand," you confessed, releasing a humourless chuckle and licking your lips. "He… he wouldn't do that."

"Wouldn't he?" he shrugged. When you didn't reply, he furrowed his brows. "Why else would you be here?"

You still didn't respond. He allowed you to process, though part of you felt like he was enjoying all of this, and you did not.

The anticipation started at your heart and spread through your body as it made a home in your chest, curling and writhing there in a bundle of anxious energy.

You swallowed thickly, "Are you going to hurt me, Mr. Shelby?"

He considered your question, mumbling quietly to himself as though he was mocking you, "Am I going to hurt you?" His eyes raked over your body, considering something silently in his head before he spoke again. "Come here."

You didn't move, otherwise frozen in place as you stared at him. Your disobedience seemed to astound him for a moment as he raised his dark brows and pointed to his shoes. "Here. Now." His voice was deeper with the command. He left no room for defiance.

Your body responded before your mind, not eager to see what would happen if you refused a second time. Your feet took you carefully toward him, slow steps treading the space between you until you were hardly a foot apart from him. His expression seemed to ease then, just enough to tell you that you were close enough now.

He took in your face from this distance. You could almost feel his breath. He spoke to you in a low voice, one that rumbled deep in his chest and resonated with you.

"I am a devil, but I'm no monster." Where you expected a crook of his finger to lift your chin, he gave you his hand to take a hold of your jaw and pull you close. "I won't force myself upon you, but if you agree to this, I will not be gentle. So, yes… I am going to hurt you."

You didn't respond—you couldn't. His words echoed in your mind and your mind warred with your body over what you would do in response and, thus, created none. You were frozen, staring at him as he held your face in a slight grip and held your attention in a much tighter one. You forget the fire burning smoke up its chimney. You forget the rows and rows of books lining the shelves of the office. You forget the clothes on your back, for his stare had stripped you bare for him to see.

He let go of your face, but you were not sure how well your brain registered that as you lingered in the same position, gripped in the same attention.

"If you want to leave," he said after a moment, "you'd better walk out of that door right now under the lie that the wager between your father and me was fulfilled. Hell, I'll even make you a cup of tea while you wait, and you can be on your way."

You considered that option. It would be like you never even came—except you did. And you knew you did. The stain of his stare, the hole he had burned into your clothes, into your skin, would never wash away. You would feel it every hour of every day as a reminder of the time you met the Tommy Shelby and lived not to tell the tale.

"But if you stay…" the corner of his lip twitched up at the idea, his pupils darkened and his voice deepened, "you're not leaving until I say you can." Even with their simplicity, his words made you shiver.

"Now, I will ask you once and one time only…" he leaned forward, his head very slightly tilted, his nose nearly brushing yours, "Are you leaving?"

As if you could say no with him this close to you. As if you could say anything with him this close to you.

Your options were idiotic.

Leave and live with the memories you gained here—the closeness, the silent obedience, the cold stare you could never wash from your soul. You would always feel it, feel him. He would never go away, plaguing your mind like a ghost of what could have been.

Or…you could stay. You could stay here and see what happened. You could let him ravage you, let him tear you apart and lick at your flesh and bone as he took you under his primal gaze. You could succumb to the ice in his eyes and let the burn of his touch mix together in some powerful, searing concoction. You would never wash his stain off, no matter how hard you scrubbed, but some part of you was alright with that.

And Tommy seemed to see that in your eyes.

He was amused as he shook his head, leaning back and away from you. He was teasing, you knew it now, heavily amused by the tiny reactions he earned from you as he pulled away to make you suffer a hint of withdrawal. It was with that distance that you realised you'd fallen in his trap, gone in too deep to turn back and be rescued from this tragic and ungodly addiction.

"No, you're not," he said—and, for a moment, you forget what he was talking about. "I can see it in your eyes, the same look your father had before he flipped that coin. You want to know what'll happen if you stay."

You seemed to snap out of it almost as you took a step back, establishing a bit more space as he revealed things you didn't want revealed. In doing so, you proved his point.

"You know exactly what happens if you leave. You go back to your regular life as a school teacher with siblings and a father to take care of." He chuckled silently, and you clenched your teeth. "No, you want to see how far this will go."

He raked his eyes over you for the hundredth time, and he knew the rumours were true. Pretty eyes, pretty lashes, pretty lips, pretty blushy cheeks. There was not a flaw on you that he could see. You were a beauty, an unconquered beauty he intended not to leave uncharted.

You looked away from him, glancing down between your feet and your hands and anywhere but his face as you processed his words, digesting them for what they were—the ugly truth you wished you could throw a blanket back over, swept back under the rug and hidden from view.

Tommy tilted his head as something dawned on him.

"Are you a virgin, Y/N?"

You kept your eyes on the ground, like you were watching his shoes—which you probably are—and shook your head. "I change my mind. You can call me Miss Gold." He could almost laugh at the idea, in fact, he almost did laugh. You brought yourself to look at him, your eyes stern with poorly hidden dismay. "And if I was?"

It made sense. No husband, no suitor, no time for one anyway. His lip lifted very slightly in the corner, and it felt like he was laughing at you. "The proper phrasing is 'and if you are?'" He leaned in, taunting you. "Because you are, Y/N."

You huffed to keep your eyes from fluttering at the effect he had on you. "How do you know?" you asked, doing your best not to sound as upset as you were. Your best was very poor.

He breathed a silent chuckle. "Because if I say the word 'sex'..."

You licked your lips and shifted your weight to your other leg, realising your mistake as soon as you made it but not showing it. You glanced away from him, and that was when you showed the realisation of your second mistake.

He pointed at you, ever amused. "You do that."

You thought for a moment over a way to say your next words without confessing anything—even if you knew it would be rendered unnecessary, as he seemed to read you like an open book.

"What if I did want to see what would happen?"

He inclined his head, lifting a brow. A small huff of a breath made up a tiny chuckle at your words. "Look at you," he said. "A good girl so bored she wants a go with a gangster."

You shrugged a shoulder. "All my family's gangsters and gypsies. It's in my blood."

He stared at you, cold and frozen like a statue. You stared back, gaze darting from eye to eye.

"In your blood," he muttered to himself.

You had no time to process what happened next. All you felt was his hand on the back of your neck and then your cheek against the cold wood of his desk. You groaned at the suddenness of it, stunning you completely—especially when his body pressed against the back of yours, crushing you against the desk and keeping you there.

Your breath was erratic, your pulse loud in your ears. Everything had happened so quickly, you were still catching up. The only thing that grounded you was the cold shock of something against the back of your head and the cock of a gun in your ears.

It was all suddenly very real—the anticipation, the suspense. You held your breath.

"Maybe I lied," he rasped in your ear, his voice just as dangerous as his gun to your head. "Maybe I want to see what's in your blood instead, eh?"

Your lips parted as shallow breaths passed between them, loud in your ears but likely nearly silent to him. You swallowed hard, frightened and exhilarated. "You're not going to kill me, Mr. Shelby."

"Oh, yeah? Why is that?" He seemed to press the gun even closer, trying to scare you some more. But you were a Gold, and guns to heads were not as effective to you as it might have been to someone else from a family that wasn't yours.

"Because you want to see what will happen."

Surprised by your answer, he scoffed. "Maybe you are a whore." He pushed his hips harder into you, thus pushing you harder against the desk. The edge of the wood cut into your thighs, aching and proving very uncomfortable. A strained breath grunted from you.

You smiled slyly, looking back at him as best you could. "Which is it?" you chuckled, "Whore or virgin?"

He took pause, shaking his head as he uncocked the gun. "No," he chuckled darkly. "Just a twisted little girl who gets off to guns at her head."

Your smirk dropped, amusement gone at his words. You furrow your brow, thoroughly upset that he would accuse you of something so crude. "I don't."

"No?" he asked before leaning in closer, his lips brushing the shell of your ear and making you shiver. "Then why are you so wet?"

You stilled. You hadn't realised it until he said it, the wetness between your thighs, the arousal hiding beneath your thundering pulse. That tingling sensation of simmering lust was now weighing down on you like an anvil, a terrible sentence you wanted to escape but found yourself physically incapable of. Your legs trembled, but you couldn't tell if it was from the ice or the fire rushing through your veins. God forbid it be both.

Your silence made him smirk against your ear. "You really are," he scoffed again. "That was just a guess, sweetheart."

You huffed, doing everything you could to avoid clenching your thighs. With how close he was to you, his body pressed against you so tightly, he'd surely feel it. The shame was thick enough as it was.

"Fuck you," you spat.

He was not fazed by your aggression. "I intend to."

With a sudden burst of defiance, you pushed yourself up from the desk, turning around to face him. Your faces were so close, breathing in each other's scent as the both of you refused to back down. You heard him uncock his gun, tossing it onto the table behind you without breaking eye contact.

"This isn't the first time I've had a gun to my head, nor will it be the last," you told him. "And it's definitely not the first time a man's expressed his desire to fuck me."

"But it's the first time he's been able to, eh? Because before you had Daddy's protection." His hand landed on your waist, roughly pulling you toward him so your bodies were touching. It was useless to try to hide to fluster he put you in, but you did your best anyway. His voice was nearly a growl. "Well, where is he now?"

You shook your head, breathing shallow breaths. "I don't need his protection."

His smirk was small and taunting as he stared at you, his eyes darting between your eyes and your lips.

"You do from me."

His lips crashed down upon yours as he pulled you close. Your surprised gasp was cut off, silenced by his harsh kiss. The feeling was foreign but not entirely unwelcome. Even as the force of his lips had his teeth smashing yours, cutting into the top of your own lip and greeting you with the taste of blood, you welcomed it.

You kissed back, moving your lips with his and following his lead but doing no more than that. Even if you had already compromised yourself, it would help not to encourage him.

When he pulled away from you, you chased his lips and felt the shame of it hot on your cheeks. He smiled at your eagerness, even chuckled at your breathlessness as he shook his head.

"My, my," he goaded. "You really do want this, you twisted little whore."

You shivered at his words and still denied. "And if I don't?" you countered, practically staring at his pink lips and proving him right.

He shook his head. "You should've walked out that door."

He kissed you again, silencing you once more until his lips had a moan clawing up your throat. He placed a hand on your chest, pulling you forward just a slight from turning you in one arm and shoving you back.

You stumbled backward, catching your footing again as you stared at him between the long distance he had put between the both of you. It surprised you and now you were trying to put your mind back in order, as though it hadn't been scrambled enough from his kiss.

"If you want to go so badly, prove it to me." He pointed to the door, urging you to leave with dark eyes and darker words. "Run. Run away, before I catch you."

You stared at him, catching your breath and contemplating. He was giving you one last chance for an out, one last chance to turn away and forget about tonight.

But you could never forget what happened here, especially not now, and not ever. Staring back at his dangerous eyes, you made your choice, knowing there was no turning back.

So you would prove that you wanted to stay as you trudged the distance between you and closed it with your lips on his, addicted to the taste of him—the taste of danger and intrigue and all things twisted in the world.

His hand cupped the back of your head as he opted to devour you, allowing your fingers to work at the buttons of his vest to remove it. You gasped into his mouth and made your decision before your inexperience could talk you out of it, separating from his lips only to kneel down before him with your eyes locked on his.

Amazed by your initiative, he encouraged you by leaning his hips out as you worked at his belt. You fumbled for a moment too long before you finally got his trousers open, finally reaching what you were aiming for as you pulled him from his underwear.

You stared wide-eyed at him as you took in the sight of his cock, the tip flushed red and the vein along the underside pulsing with his well-disguised lust. You looked up at him, finding him staring back down at you with those cold, dark eyes.

"Well, go on then," he mumbled as you continued to stare, conflicted between different courses of action.

Your body heat seemed to rise at the realisation that you were staring like a fool. You swallowed thickly, reaching a hand up and wrapping it gently around him, gliding your thumb along his tip and feeling a little more confident when his unyielding eyes fluttered. You continued on, rubbing your thumb at the head of him before stroking your fist along the length of him, up and down in a steady rhythm as you navigated what he liked and didn't like.

One of his hands cupped the back of your neck, urging you forward as your face pressed into his hips with the warmth of his cock on your cheek. Slowly, you kissed it, your lips gliding along the length as you took in the unfamiliar sensation. You slipped your tongue through your lips, licking along the side until you reached his flushed tip. Kissing the slit at the head of his cock, the bead of pre-cum there spread over your lips as you darted your tongue out to lick it.

You opened your mouth at the taste, setting his tip on your tongue and shivering at the feeling as you closed your lips around it. You built yourself up for it as you felt his heavy stare at the top of your head, bobbing your head slowly back and forth as you took the smallest bit more with each comeback. As he reached the back of your tongue, that tickling feeling in your throat began to tease you before the threat of gagging became too much to try to pass through.

By now, his cock was glistening with your saliva. As you looked up at him with eyes beginning to tear from your efforts, he stared back, lost in the pathetically illusioned look on your face. "You can't be done already," he said, his fingers tangling in your hair.

You spoke breathlessly, "Tommy–"

"No," he shook his head. "Not Tommy. You call me 'sir' while you're sat there on your knees with my cock in your mouth. You understand?"

You took in his authority, deciding whether or not you would listen. You began to scoff, "I'm not–"

"You will," he said finally, giving you that look that demanded respect. You knew, staring at him now, that he held the key to your pleasure. If you wanted to feel good, you would have to obey. As much as that annoyed you, it thrilled you all the same as he continued to look down on you like he was.

Your jaw ached with resentment, but you knew it was a front, you fighting the submission you were not meant to have. But you wanted it. You wanted him to break you down to some common whore, to strip you of your importance as a Gold and turn you into his plaything. But it was so firmly embedded, you would just have to keep fighting against it.

But that didn't matter right now, not with you on your knees with his cock in your hand.

"I can't do it…sir," you replied.

He raised a brow. "Can't do what?"

He was taunting you, insulting you by trying to make you say something you didn't want to say. It sat on your tongue like venom. Admitting what you classified as "it" felt like a new kind of torture.

"What is it you can't do, eh?" he questioned, even smirking at you like he knew he held all the cards. Because he did.

"I can't…" you swallowed thickly, bowing your head.

"No, no," he tsked, lifting your head with his hand in your hair to force you to look at him. And he wasn't lying before—he wouldn't be gentle. "Look at me and tell me what you can't do."

You huffed, speaking in a squeak of a voice. "Can't… take it all."

"What was that?"

"I can't take it all," you repeated, not yelling but not whispering either.

He smiled at you then, an evil, nasty smile that you wanted to wipe from his face. "That's all?" he questioned, laughing when you broke his eye contact. "Well, sure you can. Let me show you."

The exchange was promptly ended as his hand in your hair guided your head back to him as you took his cock in your mouth again, and he pushed you down, inch by inch, back onto him. You felt his tip pushing into your mouth, deeper and deeper on your tongue until he brushed the back of your throat. You gagged around him, feeling the sensations of the invasion rushing down your spine, resting in your belly and tingling all over.

As your nose brushed against his pelvic bone, your eyes welled up as tears spilled over your cheeks. He shushed you as you gagged on his cock, your throat adjusting around the intrusion. His hips bucked a couple of times, pushing his cock further until he could go no deeper. When he pulled out, you took as much air into your burning lungs as possible before you were interrupted by a few coughs.

As much as you wanted to slap him for the assault on your throat, one look at the pleasure on his face calmed the fire of frustration and fed the ache of arousal between your legs.

"Don't– do that again," you huffed, still catching your breath as you leaned forward on your knees to take him into your hot mouth again. You didn't go nearly as far again as you licked along his length, suckling around his cock and laving your tongue along his tip and the vein on the underside.

"The hell I won't," he mumbled, not the biggest fan of your telling him what to do but not necessarily put off by the idea. His hand remained a tangled mess in your hair as you continued to suck and lick and kiss.

You weren't expecting it when he pushed you down the second time, but at least you knew what to expect as you shut your eyes tight and took it, accepting the twisted pleasure that blossomed in your belly until he pulled out of your mouth again, keeping you back as he groaned.

You wiped your mouth off, staring at him with wet eyes and breathing through an open mouth. A deep breath exhaled from his lungs as he hoisted you to your feet, searching out your lips to bring you into another kiss. He turned you both around and pressed your back into his desk as he continued to kiss you roughly, pushing you back until you collapsed on the dark wood.

You gasped in surprise but barely had time to process as his lips continued to attack yours. His hands grasped the neckline of your dress, encouraging shivers down your spine. When he suddenly ripped and ripped at your clothes tearing them off you like a beast, you gasped and watched him turn your dress to rags.

It wasn't long before you were bare in front of him, save for the pantyhose hiding nothing from him. Then those were gone, too. Your hands instinctively flew to your body, trying to cover yourself up. There was really no reason for modesty, not now that you had already seen his cock and had it shoved down your throat, but this was entirely new and you would have rather liked a warning beforehand.

"Don't cover yourself now," he said as he entwined his hands with your own and pulled them away, spreading you out to see every inch of you with those hungry eyes. Your body trembled with the feeling of his eyes on your bare skin. You squeezed your eyes shut, whimpering quietly at the mix of emotions ruling you.

Where some would take pity, Tommy just smiled darkly and tsked gently as he leaned forward and began kissing your neck. Your mouth fell open as your eyes fluttered to see him. A slight moan caught in your throat escaped at the sensation of lips to skin and your hands struggled where he restrained them, wanting to touch him again.

His kisses were not so patient after a moment as teeth began to scrape skin, sucking and nibbling on flesh in order to mark uncharted territory. The pleasure it gave him to know that no man had ever done this to you before was intense, driving him crazy with lust, a desire to claim you as his hips cant into your own, pushing you further into the desk and otherwise hurting you—if you had not been so preoccupied with his kiss.

You moaned into the air when his hand tightened around your thigh, squeezing roughly as he groped and kneaded the flesh. His other hand busied itself around your throat and tilted your head off to the side, sitting securely there but not quite squeezing the same. Your fingers wrapped around his wrist nonetheless, though you didn’t know whether you were trying to make him stop or keeping his hand there, wrapped around your throat and effectively putting him in charge.

The hand on your thigh travelled up, smoothing along your skin until he reached your hip. It never stayed there, moving back down as his fingers brushed over your exposed cunt. Your breath stopped in your throat when you felt his fingers ghosting over your lips and gasped when you felt his middle finger slip between them before biting down hard on your lip in an attempt to silence yourself.

His lips brushed your ear as he spoke in his low tones. “You like being touched by me? Eh?” A whimper left your throat when his finger pressed into you, pushing past your folds and into the warm, wet feeling inside of you. You clenched around it, the feeling foreign and but so good. "You're practically a whore now. I did buy ya after all—cost me a penny."

Your legs trembled as he stretched you out around his finger, a second playing at your pussy before carefully joining the other. "A penny?" you stuttered. "I personally think I'd be worth at least two."

"Well, let's see then," he said, lifting his brows as he pulled his finger out of you.

You whimpered, granting him an annoyed expression at the absence of his touch so soon. "See what?"

"If you taste good enough for two pennies."

You stared at him as his lips kissed your chest, sucking on your nipples on the way down and continuing on down to your thighs. A shocked yelp came from you when he bared his teeth around a chunk of flesh, only soothed when he kissed over it.

He gripped your thighs and pulled them over his shoulders, taking your hips in his hands and pushing himself up so your body was nearly folded in half. He didn't stall you at all as he buried his head between your thighs, licking and sucking on your folds as he shoved his tongue between them.

Your head flew backward, banging against the table. You hardly noticed, even with the full throb at the back of your head, the slight dizziness in your brain. Your hands flew to his hair, tangling in dark strands and tugging him forward. His tongue was just as skilled here, commanding your body to his every will, as it was during his speeches while he commanded armies of men to join in his cause or to intimidate against their own.

One hand left your hip to play with your cunt, toying with your clit. He pushed two fingers into your fluttering hole, swirling his tongue around your clit as you moaned for him to continue.

"Fuck," you mewled, closing your legs around his head and digging your heels into his back. He didn't seem to care, not until you messed up. "Please don't stop, Tommy."

But he did. His fingers and tongue retreated as he pulled back, straightening his back and letting one leg fall from his shoulder, though he kept the other firmly held to his chest.

You whined, looking at him with shallow breath. You watched him lick his kiss-swollen lips as he stared at you with black eyes. The emotions in your belly swirled between lust and frustration and fear and intrigue. He was so intimidating and you wanted more. You wanted him to keep kissing you, to keep dragging his tongue along your wet pussy. But you also wanted him to push you into the floor and take you from behind, his hips slapping into you, his hand planting your cheek against the cold floor, his mouth whispering filthy things in your ear.

"Please," you whimpered, too desperate to care about how pathetic you sounded.

He lifted a brow, saying nothing and staring. When you tried to sit up to reach his face, he pressed a hand into your chest and pushed you down roughly, leaning forward himself to paralyse you with his dangerous glare. Even with his hand on your chest, you tried to sit up still to kiss his pretty lips but he wouldn't let you. Your thigh ached from the position.

"Please," you whispered again, a broken moan as the lack of pleasure became too much, welling in your chest and making your body tremble.

He tilted his head.

You let out a shaky breath, moving your free leg outward to spread yourself even wider for him. "Please, sir," you concede. "Please keep going. I want it."

He didn't continue. His eyes bore into yours and you shuddered. With a gentle huff, you handed over the last of your dignity. "Please, sir, I need it."

He lingered there for a moment longer before smirking. You thought he was going to kiss you when he leaned forward, but instead he took your bottom lip between his teeth and but down before returning to his previous position between your legs.

He began again with the same intensity, devouring you as though you were his last meal. You whimpered and moaned and cried from the pleasure he forced into you. As he shoved his fingers into you, spreading them apart and thus stretching you wider, suckling on your clit and kneading it with his tongue, a coil tightened in your belly as everything seemed to follow.

Your moans built to whining breaths—too high and pitchy to be real—but genuine nonetheless. He didn't let up or slow down, drunk on the taste of you and too far gone to stop just yet, not without his reward.

The warm, wet feeling of his mouth became too much, the suckling of his lips even moreso. You squeezed your eyes tight, arching your back as a loud moan ripped from your throat. Your breath was rough and forceful as it rasped in and out of your throat, and your hands clenching in his hair tugged and tugged as his tongue continued to work. The pleasure took siege of your body, attacking every nerve ending until you were naught but a pile of flesh and blood and bone.

The high slowly descended to bring you back to Tommy Shelby's study, his tongue at your pussy a distant sensation in the back of your mind before it burnt with oversensitivity. You tugged at his hair, grunting as you pulled his head away to catch your breath.

His chin glistened and his lips were plump with blood as he stared at your recuperating body. He pulled his fingers from your fluttering pussy, taking them between his lips to taste you.

"Too much?" he asked, not in any way sensitive as he stared. "What, it feels too good, it hurts?" All you could do was nod. He breathed a laugh. "Have you ever touched yourself before, love?"

You didn't have it in you to be shy as you shook your head. He didn't take that answer this time—not humiliating enough, you supposed.

"Eh?" he urged, lightly smacking your arse to get a proper answer.

You grunted, shaking your head. "No, sir."

"That's your first time cumming then," he said more than asked, watching your dazed eyes slowly return to the dull bite of their natural rebellion—though he knew he broke you down enough for it to be too weak to matter.

He still awaited an answer. "Yes, sir," you obliged.

"Well, congratulations," he said. "Most men don't know how to please, so most women don't get to cum."

You disregarded his comment, still stuck on the aftershocks of pleasure as your eyes wandered the room. You whimpered when he licked you again, suckling around your clit and earning a jerk from your body.

He sat up, moving your legs off his shoulders like they were nothing important to him. He wrapped a hand at the base of your skull and pulled you up to sit. "Come here," he said, bringing you close to his face. "Have a taste."

He pulled you forward and crashed his lips against yours, too rough but just as amazing as all the rough ones he'd given before. The taste of you was strange but addictive as you came back for more, even as he pulled you away.

Tommy backed away from you, leaving you bare and hot on the desk. His hair was a mess, and he licked his lips again. He gestured toward you. "Stand up." You did as you were told, steadying yourself on unsteady feet. "Turn around."

As you obeyed, he came up behind you and pushed you onto the desk again, just as he'd done before. You grunted at the impact and clenched your thighs at the effect it had on you. You hated how good it made you feel, his treating you so roughly, without a care to just how rough. You hated even more how much rougher you wanted him to be.

Your prayers may have been met with extremity when you felt his gun to your head again as he spoke into your ear.

"I could kill you," he considered, pressing the gun further.

Your heart kicked up, and the adrenaline took over as his unwavering voice promised your demise. You held back your moan and responded, "But you won't."

"Why not?"

"You need me," you insisted. He laughed. "It's true. You kill me, well I'm Daddy's favourite. There'll be war. You make me go, I'll just keep coming back to finish it. You fuck me now, your wager is fulfilled and you get to fuck a virgin. What man doesn't want that, eh?"

Oh, you were good. Even if he was going to kill you, your words were enough to persuade him otherwise. He pressed the gun into your temple and the clicking sound of him clocking it reverberated in your ear. You moaned a long, deep moan as you clenched your thighs tightly together.

He smiled, laughing quietly to himself as he shook his head. "A proper whore, you are."

"Then fuck me, sir. That's the purpose of a whore, isn't it?" You gripped the edge of the table when he pushed his hips into you, aching that same spot on your thighs from before and making your lust all the worse.

He lingered, the cold barrel cocked and ready. You held your breath and awaited his decision before he removed it from your head. You sighed gently, missing his warmth when he stepped away from you.

Your hips jolted when the cold tip of his gun pressed to your pussy, spreading your lips apart to see you still wet for him. With the gun still cocked, your heart pounded against your ribcage and you felt the anxiety building deliciously in your body. He hummed, considering something in his head. You stayed as still as possible, certain your breath was loud as you wondered what he was thinking.

You heard him kneel, hyperaware of every sound he made behind you. His hand nudged the other side before he was leaning forward to taste you again.

You whimpered. "You're a dirty whore for being this wet," he said. You bit down on your lip.

He stood again and bent himself over your body. "You got my gun dirty," he tutted, shaking his head like he was scolding you as he shoved the barrel in your face. You could see your arousal gleaming off of it, shaking at the sight of it so close. "Clean it up."

You didn't move, paralyzed by fear. He didn't like that. "Clean. It. Up."

You let out a wavering breath, "Yes, sir." You leaned forward slowly, not even certain you were actually moving, and stuck your tongue out the slightest bit. You shut your eyes, making contact with the gun and a tiny whine slipped.

He watched you do as you were told, licking your slick from his gun and loving every second. A tear slipped down your cheek, slow and beautiful. He kissed it from your skin as you cleaned the gun.

When he deemed that you'd done well enough, he uncocked it and put it away. Your body relaxed, all of the pent up energy inside of you calming a slight as the threat of so much danger lifted from you.

He slipped his hand around your throat and leaned into your ear again. "Such a good girl, crying for me" he husked in your ear. "I'm gonna make you scream."

You felt the head of his cock push between your folds, coating himself in your slick, and there was plenty to go around. He straightened his spine as he took a hold of your hips, just as rough as you were expecting, before he shoved his cock into you. You moaned loudly as the harsh drag of his cock invaded your cunt, stretching you out around him.

"Fuck," you cried, gripping the desk harder. He held you steady as he fucked into your tight pussy, snapping his hips in and out of you without sparing a second for you to adjust. The slick you'd gathered would have to do.

You clenched down on him, thighs aching and trembling and becoming too much already as the tears built in your eyes.

Chants and cries of "yes" and "more" and "harder" spilled from your mouth and into the air, a loud and filthy cacophony of blasphemous praise. He held you down and he held you still, dominating your body as your new god as he ruined you for any man.

"You want more? Sure you do, so desperate for a fuck," he taunted, his harsh words accompany the harsh smacks of his hips. It was loud and continuous and it felt so good. "Such a dirty little thing, filthy and twisted. You like having a gun to your head, you like me being mean to ya. Where's all that pride gone, eh?"

The tears streamed down your face, decorating you in a way that Tommy could only describe as "beautiful".

"That's right. Cry for me, little whore," he grunted.

You did. Your thighs hurt and your throat is sore and your fingers ache from grasping the desk so hard, but you cried for him and the overwhelming pleasure, a depraved sound he fed from.

One of his hands left your hip to toy with your clit as he pressed his chest to your back. He bit the juncture between your neck and your shoulder, cruel and uncaring, before kissing the spot like an absent-minded apology. Your voice was raspy as he drew quick circles at your clit, chasing your next high as though it were unattainable.

And who knows? With Tommy, it might be.

"More," you begged, despite the loss of breath in your lungs, despite the haze of your mind. You chased the pleasure, pleading for it to swallow you whole as you took all that he gave you. "Please, sir, more." He cursed under his breath.

That crashing high from before curled in your belly again, hot and searing, like molten lava. You shuddered when it erupted, squeezing around his cock as you nearly sobbed. "Ahh, fuck!" Your head went fuzzy at the sensations as you gushed around him, sucking him in tighter.

Tommy grunted, his hips stilling before he pulled out of you. You thought he was done, but he seemed far from it as he wrapped his arm around your midsection, lifting you from the table and turning. You thought he was heading for the sofa, instead he lowered you to the ground on your hands and knees, which shook with the aftershocks of an orgasm you were still recovering from.

He pressed down on your back, pushing you onto the floor so your hips were angled up. He grasped your waist, smacking your arse once and earning a cut-off shriek.

He steadied you before burying his cock in you once more, sighing from the warmth your body provided. You whimpered at the feeling so fresh after cumming, slowly adjusting to the pleasure as he fucked into you with the insistence of a starved man.

Once you settled into it again, you moaned into the sensitivity, easing the rock of his hips rubbing you against the floor with your palms planted on the wood. It was cold and hard but the way his cock brushed in and out of you was so electric that you didn't care.

"There we are," he said, guiding your hips quickly as he pulled you in against him. "Fucked on the ground where you belong. Don't you agree?"

You struggled with nodding—though you knew he wouldn't accept it anyway. "Yes, s– Ah!– sir." He rutted into you, his thrusts almost animalistic, and he kept on.

He leaned forward, bracing one hand next to your head as you reached out to grab it. His breath was loud in your ear, full of broken moans disguised as heavy grunts.

"Good," mewled. "Feels good, sir."

"Yeah?" he asked, a particularly harsh slap making you whimper. "You want more, you pathetic whore?"

"Please, sir."

"So polite all of a sudden," he spoke breathlessly.

When he pulled out of you again, you thought you'd scream. But he eased you up to flip you onto your back, standing on his knees and staring down on you. You watched him unbutton his shirt, undoing each button one by one until he was able to shed it from his arms. You stared at the bare skin of his chest, taking in his tattoos, his muscles, the light patch of hair.

Grabbing you by your legs, he pulled you into his lap after leaning back. He set your legs over his shoulders once more, guiding himself back into you before he leaned forward. Your legs ached from being put in this position so much—but hell if you cared, because when he seated himself fully inside of you, the moan you left out was deep and guttural. He reached so much deeper than before, brushing a spot inside of you that set your body ablaze.

You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him close as his hips snapped into yours. His thrusts were shorter in this position, grinding into you and brushing that spot over and over and over again. You whined and moaned through every moment of it, your eyes tearing up and the tension in your muscles building.

Your hand splayed out over his cheek as you tilted his head toward your face, wanting to watch him as he fucked into you. His eyes gazed at you, the intimidation from before not quite as cruel as it melted into the intimacy of the moment. His forehead pressed against yours and you breathed in each other's air as he shoved your hips together.

The sounds of his cock sliding in and out of you were intoxicating, filling the air with a filthy cadence that mixed with the carnal pleas on your tongue and the raucous groans on his.

"Look at you," he said, planting his hand next to your head once more as the other held your hips up for the right angle. "So desperate, pathetically beautiful."

You gave him a drunk smile, looking between his eyes and lips. "You think… I'm beautiful?"

He rolled his eyes but smiled nonetheless, shutting you up with a rough thrust. Your head fell back and exposed your neck, which he graciously nipped between his teeth.

You yelped when the pad of his thumb pressed against your clit again, sinking into a breathy moan as you looked between your bodies to see it. You looked back up at Tommy, allowing him to do as he pleased with your body, succumbing to his touch.

"Fuck," you breathed, clenching around him at the feeling of your aching clit being stimulated again. You weren't sure you could cum again, but to hell if you weren't going to try.

Your arms wrapped around his back as your nails took root in his shoulders, scraping down his flesh to find purchase for the overwhelming passion. The sound Tommy made was nearly a moan, which he covered with a hiss as he clenched his teeth.

You kissed him, lips bruising, teeth clicking, tongues flicking as you drank the pleasure. "I'm gonna cum again, sir."

He raised his brows, though his rhythm was wearing. "Oh, you think so, do you?"

You corrected yourself, kissing him again to add in your favour. "Please, sir, can I cum again?"

His grin was almost sinister as he regarded you. You were learning, and fast. His unsteady hips rocked you back and forth on the ground, and his breath was timed with each little thrust. You could tell he was going to lose it, so close to joining you as you encouraged him by clenching and squeezing, sucking him into your cunt and getting him addicted to it.

"Fuck, yes. Go on and cum for me, sweetheart," he groaned, giving you the permission you needed as the pleasure washed over you like a wave of fire.

Your back arched, your weak moan stuttered in your throat, and you couldn't help but utter his name as the ecstasy shook you. Your cunt fluttered around him, and your moan continued until it melted to helpless little whimpers which then dissolved into each breath.

Tommy buried his face in the crook of your neck when he came after you, growling in your ear and his muscles tensed under your hands. His hips rutted into you, sinking in nice and deep and putting you in a position that would have been fairly uncomfortable, had you not been so devoured by his deep fucking that you hardly even noticed. All you could feel was the pressure of his body on yours and the feeling of his hot seed spilling into you, your cunt so tight around his cock that you milked every drop.

Slowly, his muscles loosened and his grip on your hip let up. He sighed, a long, deep sigh that released the rest of his tension as he began to straighten his back again. You stopped him, wrapping your hand around the back of his head and pulling him down for one more kiss. This one was so soft, a slow kiss that rendered your body useless. Everything was limp and lazy as the tender kiss changed the entire dynamic of the night.

It lasted longer than it properly should have as you both came in for more, treasuring it, cherishing it, until it had to come to its imminent end. He pulled away from you, staring at your face for a moment longer before he sat up, pulling out of you and making you shudder from the sudden loss and the even more sudden chill.

You stayed on the floor as he walked toward his desk and tucked himself back into his underwear. Your eyelids were heavy, drooping down as you lacked the strength to stand. As Tommy picked up his case of cigarettes, he looked at you over his shoulder, still laying there. Your legs were still spread out, your pussy dripping with both your cum on display and your arms framing your head. You'd passed out.

Tommy rubbed his cigarette between his lips before he lit it. His eyes never left you as he took the first puff before discarding the light and walking over to you. He knelt, tucking his hand under you to take you into his arms and set you on the sofa. He readjusted your body, your legs closed and one of your arms covering your chest.

He stood there a moment. You looked peaceful as you slept—absolutely debauched with your messy hair, tear-stricken cheeks, and swollen lips—but peaceful. Your face nuzzled into the cushion, and your lips twitched with whatever was going on in your head.

It took more than he would like to admit not to brush the apple of your cheek as he cleared his throat quietly. He picked up his disregarded shirt and draped it over your shoulders before choosing to walk back to his desk. He sat down and sifted through some files he pulled from a drawer to busy himself.

He didn't keep track of how long you slept or how long he sat there. He hadn't realised when he dozed off, tired out from you and from work.

You stirred from your place on the couch, opening your eyes and wondering why the floor was so soft. It took a moment to remember where you were, why you were naked, and why your thighs were so sticky.

Taking a deep breath in, a familiar scent filled your nose as you noticed the shirt over your body. You sat up slowly, pulling it to your chest and taking another deep breath. The scent made you dizzy, and you slipped it over your arms. The shirt was big on you, hanging low as you pulled it closed around your body.

Your body ached as you moved to stand, running a hand through your hair and stretching your sore limbs. Why were you so sore?

You took two steps, examining the floor and taking in all the clothes—scraps and fully intact—laying there, before you looked up and saw him. Tommy was passed out at his desk, bracing his face on his arms as he slept.

The events of that night flooded into your mind all at once and suddenly, everything made sense. You looked down at your dress of scraps again with a frown as you picked it up, rolling your eyes before using it to wipe away the cum glueing your legs together and discarding it back to the floor.

You padded over to Tommy, glancing over him and silently making your way to the window to peek behind the curtains. It was still dark out, so you hadn't slept long.

You returned to Tommy, lifting up his half-burnt cigarette and putting it out properly in the ashtray it was sitting in. You stared at him, watching him sleep.

You never thought the devil himself could ever look so peaceful.

You couldn't help yourself—you reached out and brushed some of his hair from his face. You just wanted to see him a little clearer. In doing so, he woke. It wasn't a slow waking like yours. His was fast, nearly startled as his eyes opened and his sharp inhale shocked his senses. Before he could jolt up to his feet, his blue eyes found you and his dark brows almost convinced you that he despised you as he granted you a hard stare.

But his expression shifted at the sight of you, after he'd properly taken you in and recognized you. He blinked away and sighed, sitting up slowly and leaning back in his chair. He tilted his head as he looked you up and down before reaching for his case of cigarettes again.

He picked one out, rubbed it between his lips, and lit it up in silence. And, in silence, you took it from between his lips and set it between your own. He stared at you, lips parted and amused—though, you had to look closely to notice.

"Apologise."

You stared at him with a raised brow, blowing out a billowing breath of smoke. He was surprised you smoke.

He looked you up and down before sighing and leaning back again. "Alright, I'll bite," he said. "What for?"

You took another deep breath before moving it again, blowing it out before gesturing toward him with his cigarette. "You called me pathetic."

"You are pathetic."

"And you called me a whore."

"You are a whore."

"You called me a pathetic whore."

He opened his arms, shrugging as he watched you. You raised a brow and blew out some more smoke.

"Apologise."

You weren't harsh as you said it, and you didn't look particularly hurt. In fact, you looked like a fucking angel dressed in his shirt, smoking his cigarette, and demanding he apologise for something you so obviously enjoyed.

He gave in, smiling as he rolled his eyes. "I apologise for calling you a pathetic whore…even if you are a pathetic whore."

You watched him for a moment, considering whether you'd accept his apology.

"I also want you to apologise for pointing a gun at me. Twice. And then touching my fucking cunt with it."

"No." He said it so simply, so finally. There was no way you'd get him to budge. "You liked it too much."

You thought about that and shrugged. Fair enough.

"I also–"

"Shut up and come here," he said, turning toward you with his open legs and arms.

You smiled and stepped between them, letting him take hold of your waist—even if you were still sensitive there because you didn't want to give up the affection. You guided the cigarette back between his lips, your fingers pressing against them as you did. He smoked it before taking it out and staring at you, blowing the air out as he thought.

Tommy reached into his pocket, digging around to pull out a coin. He handed it to you, and you shook your head at him. "That's not funny," you mumbled, stifling a laugh.

"Congratulations, you're worth two pennies."

"Fuck you," you laughed, placing a hand on his shoulder.

"I've already done that." You laughed again, shaking your head and ignoring the warmth in your belly.

You stared at him, rubbing the coin between your fingers as you toyed with it. He watched you think to yourself, biting your lip as your eyes so obviously flicked between his eyes and lips.

"Thank you, Tommy," you told him softly. "I needed this."

His smile faltered slightly as he continued to watch you. He sighed, unaware of his thumbs stroking patterns into your sides, "I didn't do it for you… but I'm happy to have helped."

You chuckled weakly, half-hearted. Looking down at the penny, you smiled slowly and held it up. "How about a wager?" His subtle amusement encouraged you.

"If it's heads…you get me a new dress because you ripped mine to shreds."

He let out a small scoff, shaking his head gently.

"And if it's tails…" you smiled. You lifted your leg, slipping into his lap as you wrapped your arms around his shoulders. His hands found your arse, pulling you forward so your bodies were flush against each other. Your eyes fluttered as his cock brushed your pussy, already exciting you for the probable future. You focused on him again, "...you fuck me again—this time naked."

He smiled and nodded his head. "Toss the coin, Miss Gold."

You licked your lips as you readied it between your thumb and finger. Your eyes locked for a moment between moments, drinking each other like forbidden wine. You flipped the coin into the air, watching as it twirled and twirled and twirled. The coin made its descent, you caught it, and you took a moment to close your eyes and hope before you let it show.

You couldn't hide your elation as you picked up the coin and showed him. "Congratulations, Mr. Shelby," you smiled. "Tails."

"A deal's a deal." His hand wrapped around the back of your neck and he pulled you in, "I would've fucked you otherwise." He kissed you in a mix of the roughness and sweet tenderness from earlier.

Between breaks, you sighed heavily. "Thank God because I need you," you confessed, kissing him again.

You undid his pants once more, this time pushing them down his legs and finally ridding him of them. He let you wear his shirt, refraining from admitting just how much he liked seeing you wear it.

The kiss was a mess as you devoured one another. He rocked your hips in his lap and you moaned at the pressure as his cock spread your lips apart. "Fuck, this is gonna be a long night," you hummed.

"Shut up and ride my cock," he demanded, not nearly as harsh as before but just as breathless as you now.

You smiled. "Yes, sir."

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fl3shm4id3n · 20 days

Text

ₒₚₑᵣₐ ₕₒᵤₛₑ

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐝 𝐝𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐨𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐝 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐩𝐚𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐟𝐟. 𝐄𝐱𝐜𝐞𝐩𝐭, 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐢𝐭 𝐜𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐨𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐚 𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐬, 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐡𝐚𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐝𝐨 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐨𝐫 𝐞𝐥𝐬𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐝 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐛𝐞 𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐧 𝐚𝐰𝐚𝐲 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐲𝐨𝐮. 𝐁𝐮𝐭, 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞'𝐬 𝐚 𝐦𝐚𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐝 𝐠𝐥𝐚𝐝𝐥𝐲 𝐝𝐨 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐡𝐢𝐦 𝐭𝐨 𝐝𝐨.

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: ᴛʜᴏᴍᴀꜱ ꜱʜᴇʟʙʏ x ꜰᴇᴍ! ʙᴀʟʟᴇʀɪɴᴀ! ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

Tw: SMUT, Basically the dark side of being a ballerina and the ballet industry of the time, mentions of prostitution/sex work, age gap, semi public sex, kissing, fingering, riding, titty grabbing, lip biting.

A/N: I rewatched the animted short called LOUISE, and I got an idea.

Masterlist

ʙᴇꜰᴏʀᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ɢᴏ ᴀɴʏ ꜰᴜʀᴛʜᴇʀ, ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪꜱ ɴꜱꜰᴡ/ꜱᴍᴜᴛ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ, ɪꜰ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡɪꜱʜ ᴛᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ʀᴇᴀᴅ, ꜱᴋᴇᴅᴀᴅᴅʟᴇ, ɪꜰ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡɪꜱʜ ᴛᴏ ᴘʀᴏᴄᴇᴇᴅ, ᴛʜᴇɴ ʀᴇᴀᴅ ᴀᴛ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴏᴡɴ ʀɪꜱᴋ.

That night was just like every other performance. It went well, the crowd had seem to love it, specially since it was packed. After the show, your body was aching and you were tired. You had been at the opera house since noon to prepare for the evening show. All you wanted to do was go home and rest, but you promised your friend you'd wait for her since her mother had called her over to 'entertain' a gentlemen who's asked for her.

Another thing about being a ballerina was to please the opera guests. Which were mostly men. It was always 'You be good to them and they'll confiscate you greatly'. For example, get better roles, more classes, get high quality shoes, costumes, make up or even a good work for the teachers. You basically had to do what they wanted no questions asked. That's why half of your classmates were very sweet to the patrons who asked for their attentions. It was the harsh reality, but what could you do? The men frequented and funded the opera. If they were to give a complaint to the owner or teachers. You can kiss your career and hard work goodbye for good.

You did have to entertain some guests, but everything changed when you had caught the eye of Thomas Shelby. Out of all the other women, he choose you. Since then, no other patron dared to ask for you. In a way, you were always reserved for Thomas. He was very generous to you. Often getting you bigger roles or better roles, good quality shoes along with clothes, more classes, even giving you extra money just for you to have. In some way, you couldn't help but fall in love with him. But at the same time you felt like you couldn't love him. Or at least go around telling everyone you love him, it was a secret of yours.

As you roamed around the back stage, seen the many patrons hanging around the other ballerinas. You were then pulled to the side by someone, once you saw who it was, it was the person you hoped wouldn't bump into. "Minerva." You said, nervously, looking at her. "Do you know why I'm here?" She asked. "Because you missed me?" You teased, but she rolled her eyes. "No time for games, I need the money urgently." She said, making you now nervous. "Urgently? As in tonight? Or tomorrow night?" You asked, but she cut you off before you could say more. "Y/n, I need to pay rent." She said, more sternly and serious. You looked at her, seen that she wasn't playing around. You let out a sigh. "Alright, you'll get it later tonight." You said, seen how Minerva was now more relaxed by hearing you say that you'll have the money later tonight. "Thank you." She said, about to walk away, but stopped and looked at you. "Don't forget." She reminded you and walked away. You couldn't help but sigh and leaned against the wall she had you pinned against. Now you had to find Thomas.

You first looked in the small ballroom, which was flooded with both patrons and ballerinas. Talking and enjoying the champagne being served. You analyzed the room, seen how the men were being very touchy with your classmates and how they'd giggle, as well as run their hands on the men's chest or arm. Deep down, you knew that they'd only pretended to like the men just so that they didn't have any problems. No sign of Thomas anywhere, then you spotted one of the girl's that lives with you. "Hey, have you seen Thomas?" You asked her. She thought for a moment. "No, I haven't. Last time I saw him, he went back stage." She said, you then sigh in annoyance. "Why don't you go with someone else." She suggested, then you let out a small chuckle. "Someone else? You know how Thomas would feel about that, they'd be a blood bath." You told her. "Anyways, thanks." You said to her, then walking off backstage to find him.

As you walked back stage, they were girls just sitting and chatting amongst each other. Avoiding the attention of the patrons. The more you looked around, you heard moans as well as other noises going on behind closed doors. As well as talking and so on. When you spotted a mirror, you stopped to fix yourself a bit, such as fixing your hair and attire to look presentable when you found Thomas. As you continued to search, you asked a group of ladies talking and asked if they've seen Thomas, again, no. So you decided to go upstairs to maybe see if he was there. You couldn't help but over hear a conversation going on with a group of gentlemen, about how he ended up loosing money. When you continued to way up the stairs, you then bumped into the man you were searching for. "Oh! Tommy, I was looking for you." You said, with a small smile. "Y/n, I was hoping I'd find you." He responded, while placing his hand onto your sort cheek to feel his skin against yours.

You then pulled him towards the darker part of the stairs, where there was no light or prying eyes. Once you and him were alone, Thomas pulled your body against his, him wrapping his arms around your waist and your arms wrapping themselves around his neck. You and him then engaged in a kiss, it went from slow to desperate. As if he'd been craving to kiss you for the longest time, you couldn't help but moan against his lips, as his tongue rubbed against yours. Then you felt how he gently bit your bottom lip. Causing your whole body to burn up and the heat between your legs to get stronger. You felt how his hand began to run up your spin and touched feel the warmth of your naked back. After some kissing, Thomas then pulled you down with him. Sitting on the step of the stairs and you on his lap.

He pulled away, beginning to kiss your neck. Making you moan and quiver underneath him. You felt his hand other free hand going underneath your puffy long skirt. Feeling up on your thighs, caressing the soft material of your tights. It made you purr as you felt him touch and grab at you. It made you feel as if you were the only woman in his life, but you knew deep down that was wrong. but it didn't hurt to imagine that. You then felt how his other hand went underneath your skirt right onto your crotch area and ripped your tights apart. Exposing your now wet panties. Making you gasp. "Tommy! Those are expensive!" You whispered, still in shock that he'd ripped your tights, that you had been saving up to get. "No worries love, you know I'll get you new ones." He said, which was true.

You let out a small moan, feeling how his hand gently caressed the wet patch of your silky panties. "Excited already eh?" He teased, with a smirk. He then tore the tights more, to be able to have more access to the waist band of your underwear. Without a moment longer, he shoved his hands down your panties, beginning to tease your now needy and throbbing clit. Making you let out a slightly louder moan by his fingers gently rubbing your clit. You wrapped your arms tighter around his shoulders, digging your nails onto his white shirt as he began to thrust his middle and ring finger inside you. "Tommy." You moaned, as you closed your eyes, feeling his fingers pumping in and out of you as if this was the first time he's done it.

"Oh!" You whined, feeling your legs beginning to shake and sweat building up on your forehead. Just by him fingering, you were left weak. You then felt his fingers leave your now drenched cunt, making you whine in annoyance. Quickly Thomas unbuckled his pants and pulled out his now hard cock, out of nowhere, he thrusted into you. Making you throw your head back and let out an even louder moan. Without another moment, he began to thrust into you. You were basically holding onto him as if your life dependent on it. Thomas wrapped his arm around your lower half and held you in place. You felt his lips going right back to your neck, kissing and slightly biting onto your flesh. It's been forever since you and him engaged in this. You were too focused on the pleasure given and receiving, that you had completely forgot your whole purpose on why you needed Thomas.

All that could be heard was your moans and his breath heavying. Echoing on the empty stairs, basically giving away what we were both doing. But it was nothing that the others in the opera house haven't heard before. "T-Tommy!" You moaned, as your nails dug harder onto his shirt. Feeling how his cock was now slamming in and out of you. At a delicious and hard pace. You also felt how he rubbed your clit at a hard and pressured pace. Non stop, despite his hand getting sore. Your walls clamped around him tightly, making him groan. Knowing you were close to cumming and so was he. His pace got faster and hard, making you mewl and whine by the now. You then began to move your hips up and down as a way to help you and him reach your climate. You also felt his not so busy hand was grabbing at your breast, squeezing your soft flesh and pinching your nipple every now and then as a form of teasing you. A whole wave of pleasure hit your body like a train, you felt youself cumming right around him. Having you let out a pleasurable shriek. Feeling yourself nearly collapsing on Thomas. He then pulled out before he could cum inside you, instead he cummed right on your thighs.

Afterwards, you back in the dressing room, alone. Tire and even more sore then before. You leaned against the wooden pillar. Thinking about the moment you and Thomas shared, it felt special during the moment, but afterwards, it felt almost wrong. It made you sad in some way, but there was nothing you could do. You then heard the door open, seen the ballerinas walking in, to get changed back into their regular attire. You met up with your friend again, who came up to you and greet you. You then helped her get out of her costume as you had small talk. "So, who did your mother find?" You asked, while unbuttoning her dress. "Yeah, an old guy." She said, with an annoyed look. "Old huh? Your mother has bad taste." You teased. "Right?" She said, as she began to undress from her costume.

"So, what did you do as you waited for me?" She asked. "Not much, just getting the money that Minerva needed to pay the rent of this month." You explained. "So, you spent your evening with Thomas?" She teased, while giggling. Making you roll your eyes. Then you spotted Minerva walk by. "Hold on a sec." You told your friend who was busy changing. You went up to Minerva, who was also changing. "Here you go." You said, handing her the small envelop of cash. She took it and began to count the money. "Thanks." She said, before you could walk off to change you were stopped. "Hold on." She said, then she handed you some money. "This is yours." Minerva said, while handing you the extra money you decided to leave in there. "Are you sure? I mean, that's for next months rent and-" You were cut off by her. "Don't worry about it, besides. You've earned it." She simply said, you hesitantly took the money. It was enough to buy youself some food or maybe those tights Thomas tore, youo gave Minerva a smile then walked off to get changed.

The next morning, back at the house you and the rest of your housemates were having breakfast together. Talking and gossiping about last night and how it went. Until the door got knocked, Minerva want to answer it, as you all continued to eat, then you heard her call your name. You excused yourself from the table and went to the door entrance. Minerva had a small gift box in hand. "You called?" You asked. "This came for you." She said, handing you the box. You took the box and thanked her, she then left back to the dinning room. You looked at the box for a moment, then you opened it to see what was inside. It was a pair of tights with a small not on it. You took the note and read it. 'For you -Thomas Shelby' It a simple note, but it was sweet. You couldn't help but smile and your face heat up.

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lostgirlfandom · 1 year

Text

Shorty

Pairing: Thomas Shelby x Reader

Warnings: None

Words: 560

You looked up at the shelf with the tea on it with pursed lips. You heaved a big sigh. You the tried to reach up and your fingertips didn’t even graze the box. You then reached up on your tip toes and still you couldn’t even graze the shelf itself. Relaxing down, you glared up at the offending tea box before yelling into the house.

“THOMAS SHELBY!”

You waited with baited breath and listened to the noise of the house. You heard the noise in the other room, where the three brothers were sitting and talking, stop and then the sound of footsteps coming towards the kitchen. You watched the doorway for the boys with a sharp glare.

Arthur and John came in and made room for Thomas to come in as they looked at the set up you had. You had already set up the kettle and multiple cups out but no tea... which was on the top shelf – not where you initially put it. John and Arthur both chocked on laughs as they examined your disgruntled figure. Thomas leaned on the door jam and observed you with a cigarette hanging from his lips. You could see the amused glints in his eyes and his cheek twitched into a grin for a split second before going back into his tight-lipped look.

“Yes, love?” He said calmly.

Saying nothing, you pointed up at the tea and glared at the boys. “Get it down...” they did nothing so you glared harder and set your mouth into a scowl. “Now.”

John and Arthur were trying to nonchalantly cover their wide grins and stifle their laughs. Thomas sat there for a second, making you angrier as he then very slowly walked over to you and stood next to you. He started down at your 5’3” figure... teasingly he reached up and easily reached the tea box with his long ass arms. He gave a smirk and held the box in front of you.

You aggressively grabbed the box and turned your back on the boys to finish making the tea.

“Awww... don’t be angry, munchkin.” You heard John say through strangled laughs. You then felt him put his elbow on your head as an arm rest and you huffed for a second but continued to ignore him.

“You’re so adorable whe-” John didn’t get to finish his sentence as you threw a fist back and hit him in the dick. Breathlessly, he hunched over and then fell onto the floor. Arthur was laughing loudly from across the room, hunching over himself as he laughed. Thomas was chuckling as he took a puff off his cigarette.

You stared down at John with a raised eyebrow and a resting bitch face. “You were saying?” You asked calmly before turning to finish making the tea.

You listened as John and Arthur went back into the other room while Thomas stayed and leaned against the counter next to you. He watched you for a moment. He leaned down and pressed a kiss onto your cheek and held his lips there for a moment before pulling back. Leaning in to whisper into your ear. “You’re perfect to me.”

A dark flush spread over your cheeks as you froze, he chuckled and turned to go back to the other room again.

After a moment, you shook yourself out of the stupor and chuckled. “Shelbys...” You shook your head.

#thomas shelby x reader #thomas shelby imagine #thomas shelby one shot #tommy shelby imagine #tommy shelby one shot #tommy shelby x reader #reader insert #peaky blinders imagine #peaky blinders one shot #gender neutral reader #female reader

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hannibals-favourite-meal · 7 months

Text

.⋆｡No Is All｡⋆.

Thomas Shelby x plus size reader

No is a full sentence and maybe you need someone to remind you of that

Warnings: past abusive relationships, implied past SA, angst, reassurance, this is totally not a self-indulgent fics about my own relationships shut up, feeling pressured to have sex

WC: 1.1k

Minors DNI

Library- @hannibals-favourite-meal-library

The thrill of a new romance is like nothing else. The tentative touches, the soft brush of his lips against your cheek, the butterflies that take flight in your stomach whenever he smiles at you. It was all so perfect but it would end soon.

Thomas Shelby was by no means a patient man, he took what he wanted and he always got it. Even before he set his sights on you, you had seen the way he killed and maimed, bribed and blackmailed until he became the most powerful man in all of Birmingham and you knew he was well on his way to conquering England.

And when he finally asked you out after months of his icy gaze watching you from across the Peaky Blinders’ offices, you knew this day was inevitable.

You steeled yourself when he told you that dinner would be at his house that night, “wear something nice” he said. You hid the bolt of terror that shot through your body with a smile. “Don’t I always?” His blue eyes twinkled with amusement as he pecked your full cheek before he left.

Your hands trembled as you picked out the nicest undergarments you owned, laying them out on your bed beside the dark green dress Tommy loved you in. The hot shower was a welcome distraction, you could focus on the familiar routine of washing yourself instead of the anxiety churning in your stomach as the sun gradually got lower in the sky.

Thomas was a handsome man, probably far more handsome than you thought you deserved, and he respected you. There had been times where you ended dates early just so you could go home and relieve the ache between your soft thighs because he was so overwhelmingly attractive. You knew he was talented in bed too, practically everyone in Small Heath knew that.

But you didn’t know if you were ready for the next step.

You reassured yourself that it was just nerves, the natural ones that come with the beginning of a new relationship. But as your doorbell rang, you felt your heart drop. You took in a shuddering breath and opened the door.

Tommy was lazily smoking a cigarette, the blue-grey smoke curling around his cap like a halo. “Hi.” Immediately the cigarette left his lips and he put it out under his expensive black shoes. He was wearing that charcoal grey suit that you loved and you could smell his cologne (the nice one) from a couple feet away.

“Ya look gorgeous.” Heat crawled up your neck and bloomed across the apple of your cheeks. He lovingly offered you his arm as you stepped down onto the street. Your heart was beating so loudly in your ears, you thought he might be able to hear it. But Tommy just pulled you closer to him as you set off towards his house.

The wine bottle was empty, dessert finished, the dishes done. The flickering light of the fire illuminated the small living room in a comforting orange glow. The couch cushions cradled your body as you were pushed into them, Tommy’s weight keeping you pinned.

His jacket and tie had been discarded the second he asked if you wanted to have a glass of whiskey by the fire, leaving him more naked than you had ever seen him before. His white button-up did nothing to hide the supple muscles of his arms and torso.

The kisses started off sweet, just soft pecks on your cheeks, then your nose, then your jaw but soon enough, his face was buried in the crook of your neck, biting and sucking at the delicate skin. Your soft moans carried through the room as you clawed at his back.

It was nice, it felt good but when his right hand travelled from where he was gripping your wide hip to your thigh, you froze up. It was only for a second but with Tommy so close to you, with his lips against your pulse, he felt it.

“What’s the matter?” He was firm, straight to the point.

You shook your head. “It’s nothing. You can keep going if you want.” You tried to cup his angular jaw but he caught your hand before you could touch him.

“No. Tell me.” Light flickered across his face and for a moment, you were scared.

Thomas Shelby could have anyone he wanted and he chose you, you should be giving something to him in return. Your blood ran cold with panic. “Y-you want to have sex with me.”

“Yes.”

“So do it, I won’t stop you.” His eyes darkened and you saw the muscle in his jaw clench. Tommy squeezed your wrist tightly and suddenly you could see why so many feared him, calling him evil and a monster. You were powerless to stop him if he did decide to take you.

“I won’t take what I’m not given freely.”

“But-“

“No is all you need to say. I will wait until you are ready and not a moment before.” With a gentle kiss to your knuckles, he pulled away and sat back down on the other end of the couch, leaving you reeling.

This wasn’t right. “But I can take care of you.” The look he shot you shut you up immediately.

“You aren’t ready, that’s the end of it.”

“But you’ll go to someone else!” Tears burned behind your eyes as you sat up.

“I’ve made do with my hand before, I wouldn’t cheat on you.” His voice held a note of irritation and you curled into yourself, the tears now dripping down your face, staining your dress with your despair. He sighed heavily through his nose before he took your hand once more. “You are more than just your body. I did not ask you to be mine because I just wanted to fuck you. I asked you because I wanted you.” He emphasised.

You sniffled and he cupped your cheek with his other hand. “So while I do want to fuck you, I won’t because you do not want it. I may be an evil man outside of these walls but I will never be that to you. Do you understand?” You nodded. “Good. Now be a good girl and come here.”

You fell into his arms as you continued to sob but Tommy just held you close as your tears faded and exhaustion won out. As quiet snores escaped your lips, he reached around to his jacket and grabbed a cigarette. One day, you would take him to your bed and he would worship you the way you deserve, the way you should have been worshipped. But until then, he was happy enough getting to hold you as you slept.

And he was right, no was all you had to say.

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#thomas shelby x plus size reader #thomas shelby x reader #thomas shelby x you #thomas shelby x y/n #tommy shelby x plus size reader #tommy shelby x reader #tommy shelby x you #tommy shelby x y/n #female reader #plus size reader #reader insert #angst #thomas shelby #peaky blinders

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auroracalisto · 1 year

Text

colds in the winter — the reader falls ill in the middle of winter, worrying tommy and their son, charlie. tommy even goes as far as taking a day off to keep an eye on her. word count: 803 words tw: colds, slight!ooc tommy?? i feel like it could be interpreted this way, but i’ll leave that up to you to decide, fem!reader a/n: i’m always sick. you now have this as a result. :P also… ignore the totally lame title. LMAO

Winter had fallen upon Birmingham once more. Clouds constantly littered the grey skies, and rain fell far more often than you had liked. Snow would soon litter the grounds of your beloved home.

Your coat was often glued to your shoulders, buttoned up your body for warmth. Without it, the temperatures would have you freezing, guaranteed to make you sick. However, your attempts of staying remotely healthy fell short of successful.

In a matter of days, the cold weather had taken its toll on you, leaving you lying in bed, staring up at the tall ceiling. Your nose stuffed up, your ears feeling as though they needed to pop. A raging headache had made its way to every corner in your head. The sun peaking through your bedroom curtains did little to soothe your aching body.

Thomas was nowhere to be seen. He must have left sometime in between your off-and-on sleeping that morning. You hadn’t even bothered to check the time, knowing it was well into the day. Thomas surely had been gone for hours.

With a groan, you forced yourself to sit up, rubbing your face with the palms of your hands.

The little patter of feet came rushing towards your bedroom door. Charlie busted through, a smile on his sweet face.

“Mum!” he quipped, rushing over to your side. He reached out to you, expectantly waiting for you to pick him up.

As you moved to do so, a cough emitted from your throat, soon followed by another, and then another. You quickly covered your mouth with the inside of your elbow, moving away from Charlie. You couldn’t risk getting your baby sick.

“Charlie, what did I tell you?” Thomas said as he rounded the corner, coming into your shared bedroom. “Leave your mother—“

Thomas stopped short as he heard your cough.

“Are you alright?” he asked, coming over to your side. “Should I call for a doctor?”

You curtly nodded, squeezing your eyes shut.

“I had figured you were tired. Tossing and turning all night,” Thomas frowned, leaning forward to pick up Charlie. He sat him in his lap. “I tried to keep him from bothering you, but it seems as though my attempts were futile.”

“You didn’t go to work?” you frowned as you looked up at him.

“No,” he shook his head.

“And why is that?” you questioned your husband. He hardly ever missed work.

He pursed his lips, avoiding your gaze. “I had things I needed to take care of, here.”

“Like?”

“Mrs. Shelby, I did not come here to be interrogated.” he huffed, looking down at Charlie who was just giggling. Charlie looked over at his mother, smiling all the while.

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes, leaning back against the pillows once more. “Well—” Before you could get a word out, you began to cough once more. You coughed into your elbow, but it only seemed to get worse with each one.

Thomas quickly put Charlie tell, instructing him to tell the maid to call for the doctor. Charlie nodded and ran off to do as he was told, leaving his father with his sick mother.

“I do believe this is the reason I stayed home,” he said, coming to your side. He gently pressed the back of his hand to your forehead, frowning. “You are warm. I would say you have a fever.”

“Then you most definitely should not be in here with me.”

He gave you a faint smile. “Mrs. Shelby, you are in no position to tell me what to do.”

You rolled your eyes again, huffing once more.

He leaned forward, pressing a soft kiss to the top of your head. “You will be alright.”

“It is merely a cold. No need for the dramatics.”

He grinned, his hand cupping the side of your face.

“Perhaps,” he said. “I am not leaving your side until the doctor gets here.”

You frowned. “Well that’s preposterous. You should leave. Go to work. You’ve never missed for something so silly before.”

“My wife being sick is silly?” he questioned.

Perhaps he had a point. He had many loves in the past who left him in a matter of seconds because of things far more drastic than just a cold—but the worry he had was justifiable.

You sighed softly and closed your eyes.

“Will you at least lie with me? Instead of hovering over me like that?”

He just smirked, sitting down beside of you. He wrapped an arm around your torso, pulling you close. He knew the maid would warn them before the doctor arrived, so he would have plenty of time to straighten himself up. But for now, he would hold the one woman who made these dastardly winters worth it all, even if he might end up sick as well.

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deans-queen · 1 month

Text

One Night Stand - (Thomas Shelby Version) 🥃💋

Paring: Thomas Shelby x Reader (Y/N)

Summary: Reader (Y/N) is one of the popular “servant” girls at the infamous Arrow House, and the leader of the Peaky Blinders, Thomas Shelby, puts in a request for her services.

Warnings: SMUT, p in v (wrap it up kids), oral (male receiving), mature and sexual language.

It was a wild night here at the Arrow house and tons of men were grateful for your services.

You had just got done pleasuring a policeman (which they do tip very well), when you came out of the room and walked into the main area, you saw him. The infamous Thomas Shelby, the handsome leader of the Irish Gang the Peaky Blinders.

He was talking to a manager of the place, when you noticed his eyes on you.

He pointed at you and heard the manager say something.

“Yes yes, Mr. Shelby, you’ll be very impressed with Miss (Y/N’s) services, she is quite popular.”

He took a whiff of his cigarette and blew out the smoke seductively. “Perfect mate, now if you’ll excuse me.”

He walked towards you, you were leaning on the column of the wall seductively.

“Why hello Mr. Shelby. Tell me what can I do for you?”

He placed a strong hand on your waist as his ocean blue eyes looked into yours.

“So love, the manager tells me you're very popular with your clients eh?”

“Yes Mr. Shelby, I can pleasure you in the greatest of ways.”

“Is that so love?” He leaned in and whispered in your ear, “So let’s fuck?”

You could feel yourself getting wet by the second, your body craved his touch. You needed him now.

“Yes, sir.”

You took his hand and led him to the room where you pleasured your clients. It was a very nice luxurious room and it made your clients feel the most comfortable. After shutting the door, you stood before him, letting him run his eyes up and down your body.

“Now, undress for me.” He commanded, while taking off his hat and coat and his suit jacket, placing them on a chair near the bed. He placed the cigarette he had in his mouth, in an ash tray on the nightstand.

You watched his actions as you untied the silk robe from your body, letting it pool by your feet. His eyes grew wide as he looked at your lingerie set, running them up and down your body. You allowed him to get a good look at you. You could tell he liked what he saw.

It was a black lacy corset, with lacy panties to match, and some black stockings that went up to your thighs, and straps that linked up to them.

He traced his index finger along the line of your collarbone, then slowly brought it down to above your cleavage. Goosebumps formed as he touched you.

“Lay down the bed for me love.”

You laid down on the bed and Thomas crawled on top of you. He began kissing down your jawline and sucking your neck, leaving love marks along it, he took a hand and started playing with your boobs. He pulled down your corset bra, exposing your breasts. Your nipples were hard already and Thomas could tell. He took one in his hand and began massaging it

“Mr. Shelby, you’re turning me on already.”

“Please, call me Tommy.” He said breathlessly. “Your tits are so perfect, nipples nice and hard for me eh?” He sucked and flicked lightly on each nipple, causing you to moan in pleasure. Your pussy was getting soaked by the minute.

You reached at the buttons of his shirt unbuttoning each one. You admired his strong chest and his freckles, tracing each one. You reached for the belt on his pants, undoing it and pushing them down revealing his britches. You pushed them down and his cock sprang free, it was so big and thick. Your mouth was watering at the sight of it.

“Lay back Tommy, I need to taste you.”

“Yes love.” He did as he was told and you took a hold of his cock. Gliding your tongue along the slit licking the pre-cum that came out of him.

“Oh fuck, that feels so good.”

“It's about to feel even better.” You teased, and you took all of him in your mouth and began sucking him like a lollipop. He groaned and moaned in pleasure, his cock twitching in your mouth. He grabbed a fist full of your hair, and yanked it as your head bobbed up and down.

“You’re so good for me, taking my cock in your mouth like that.” He said in a husky voice. “Use that pretty little mouth, sweetheart” Groaning his head back in pleasure.

You kept going sucking and groping faster and faster until he cummed in your mouth.

“Oh fuck, love….” He breathed heavily. You swallowed every last drop of him, and he wiped some of it off your chin with his thumb, planting a kiss on your forehead.

“That’s my good girl, now lay down for me eh? Take those panties off….I need to be inside of you.” You did as you were told and spread your legs open, and he admired your glistening pussy. He teased you a bit, going in and out at first rubbing the tip on your clit. He then pushed hard inside of your walls, hitting your g-spot with ease.

“You are so tight for me love, your pussy is so perfect.”

“You feel so fucking good Tommy, keep going don't you dare stop.”

He continued to grind against you, moans filled the room and you didn't care how loud you were. You dug your nails into his back, leaving marks, you clung onto him like he was your lifeline. His strong hands gripped your waist tight as he thrusted in and out of you. Your legs were getting weak, you could feel the moment come to you.

“I’m so close, ohh my god!”

“Fuck, me too. Where do you want me to cum?”

“Inside me please, Tommy. Fill up this tight little pussy."

"Yes, sweetheart, I will." He said while growling.

And he did, as he pulled out he looked down at the glistening liquid that was coming out of your pussy. He bent down and sucked up all of your juices, as you moaned back in pleasure. After both of you came back from your orgasm highs, you laid next to each other.

“So how did you enjoy your services, Mr. Shelby?”

“I would say they were quite up to my standards.” He said. He grabbed a cigarette from his coat pocket and lit it up.

He brought it to your lips as he offered you a puff of it.

“Will I get to see you again?” You said with a hopeful tone in your voice, blowing the smoke. The aroma of smoke was filling the room.

“Yes, love you will. I’ll be back soon.” He said, and he pulled you in for another kiss.

Authors Note:

Hope you enjoyed this story!

Feel free to let me know what you think!

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bumblesimagines · 8 months

Note

"Caught their attention, have you? Tell me all about it."

"I've seen that look before. What's cooking between you two?"

- Thomas Shelby

"Caught their attention, have you? Tell me all about it."

"I've seen that look before. What's cooking between you two?"

pronoun: gender neutral, they/them

You only had to take a glance at the face by the bar before you collected a glass and poured some whiskey in. Scud flashed a charming smile and curled his fingers around the glass, lifting it and tilting it in your direction.

"You know me well, don't you?" His smile, although teasing, still had genuineness to it. You chuckled and shrugged lightly, tossing the white rag over your shoulder. You tried to ignore the fact Tommy's head turned in your direction upon hearing your laugh.

"You come in nearly everyday, Scud. Harry would fire me if I didn't know your usual by now."

"Nah," Scud smacked his lips after taking a sip of his whiskey. "Tommy wouldn't allow that."

Your lips pressed together tightly, eyes flickering over to the Shelby as he stood up from the booth and strode across the pub to stand beside his cousin. He clapped Scud over the shoulder and Scud dipped his head, sending a wink in your direction before he stepped away from the bar.

"Caught his attention, have you? Tell me all about it." Tommy's lip curled up, bright blue eyes trained on his retreating cousin. You snorted quietly and poured him some whiskey as well, setting the bottle aside and leaning forward on the bar.

"Since when does Tommy Shelby care for gossip?"

"I oughta know when it concerns my family." Tommy looked back at you and you resisted the urge to roll your eyes at his words. He pinched his cigarette between two fingers and picked up his cup, maintaining eye contact as he drank.

"Uh huh."

The corners of his eyes crinkled and he quietly chuckled into his cup, setting it back down and bringing the cigarette back to his lips. Tommy had always been a hard to read individual. Always keeping a steely exterior with everyone, even those closest to him. But you'd seen it begin to crack over time throughout your interactions.

Poking his head into the pub, Arthur swept his gaze over everyone present before he finally spotted his brother. "Tommy!" He called and Tommy's amusement disappeared, glancing in the direction of his brother and humming. Drinking the rest of his whiskey and bumming out his cigarette, he slapped a coin on the bar and gave you a small grin.

"Keep it."

"What will I ever do without you, Tommy?" Your sarcastic words got another chuckle out of him and he adjusted his hat, attention lingering on you for a moment longer before he turned back to his brother. You watched him leave through the doors and picked up the coin from the table, digging your teeth into your bottom lip in hopes of biting back the pleased smile threatening to appear on your face.

"I've seen that look before. What's cookin' between you two?" Harry appeared at your side from seemingly thin air, amusement written all over his face. You clicked your tongue and stuffed the coin in your pocket.

"Nothin', Harry. Get back to work."

"I should be tellin' you that."

#x reader #x you #x y/n #x male reader #x fem reader #x female reader #x gender neutral reader #peaky blinders #peaky blinders x reader #peaky blinders x y/n #peaky blinders x male reader #peaky blinders x gender neutral reader #thomas shelby #tommy shelby #tommy shelby x reader #tommy shelby x y/n #tommy shelby x you #harry fenton #scudboat peaky blinders

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cande · 2 months

Text

Need him rn

He's so Lana Del Rey actually

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cinewhore · 9 months

Text

The Duchess of London

Pairing: Thomas “Tommy” Shelby x fem!reader

Word Count: 3.8k

Warnings: angst, mentions of drinking, drugs, blood, gore, sexual assault (not detailed), fighting, guns, smut (penetration, creampie, wrap it up lads!), fluff.

A/N: The PB bug bit me and it bit me hard! Had to get this out. Takes place in season 2. Reminder that this is a bit dark given the contents of the show so if something rubs you the wrong way, don’t read it! You also don’t need to provide an explanation as to why you won’t read it, just keep scrolling. No beta cause I said so. Enjoy! Credits to the gif artist.

Birmingham smelled like shit.

London smelled worse.

You thank your bodyguard as he helps you out of the car, careful not to drag your dress along the mud, it was brand new and you didn’t have the best relationship with the new seamstress that replaced your old one.

It was a strange thing, being back home. Your old stomping grounds. You remember the days fondly, racing up and down the roads, dashing through the traffic of folks who populated the area. You always found yourself somewhere you shouldn’t be, getting scolded by your aunt when you arrived home well past dark. There’s a slight twinge in your chest as you reminisce, desperately wishing you could go back.

Luckily, your old house wasn’t far from your lodgings, Rich spooked by the rumors of how lawless this part of town was. You couldn’t blame him, Birmingham had long been abandoned by any sense of law and order. The police only came when it benefited them, so the local organized crime had taken over.

“Rich, I’ll only be a few minutes. Keep the car running.” you instruct. The burly man nods in respect.

“Yes ma’am.” He tips his hat at you, heading back to the car.

It was a choice, coming back here. There were nothing but terrible memories you worked too hard to forget but you felt like you owed it to yourself and your aunt to come back. The house was exactly how you remembered it, sparse furnishings but warm with spirit.

Now it was half empty and lonely.

You were fast in your approach to gather anything you deemed important, the house was likely going to be cleaned and left up for rent. Photographs, scraps of clothing, broken china were all stuffed into a bag you brought with you. These were the broken fragments of your old life you weren’t ready to part ways with just yet.

After muttering a quick prayer for your aunt and hoping that the devil caught your uncle, you say goodbye to the Brimingham girl you used to be.

You needed a fucking drink.

You swagger into the Garrison, amused at the drunken men shouting across each other. You’re well aware of the stares you were receiving, knowing that a woman of your stature and style could only mean two things: you were a well off prostitute or the lavish wife of a man no one wanted to fuck with.

You took pride in being neither.

A man with a kind face smiles at you from behind the bar, throwing a white towel across his shoulder.

“What can I get you, love?”

“Whiskey. Neat.”

“What kind?”

You pretend to think about it. “Surprise me.”

The kind man chuckles to himself before hustling to get your drink. You dig around in your purse, pulling out a few bills that were much more than your drink likely cost. A hand covers your own as you slide the bills across the bar and you gaze up into a familiar face.

“I heard whispers about a very rich looking person coming into town, you wouldn’t have happened to see anything, have you?”

You couldn’t forget those piercing blue eyes even if you tried.

Suppressing a smile, you take the glass set in front of you and drain it quickly before gesturing for a refill. Tommy waves his hand at the barkeep.

“Get a bottle and bring it in the room.” he instructs, ushering you into the private area where he conducts business.

You follow behind him, silently thanking him as he pulls out a seat for you.

The two of you don’t say a word as he pours you another drink, cigarette dangling from the corner of his mouth.

“Thomas fucking Shelby.” you finally murmur, overcome with nostalgia. “How long has it been?”

Tommy gives a half shrug. “More than ten years, I’d say.”

“This yours?” you finally take a second to gaze about, impressed with the architecture. It felt like too beautiful of a place to be in Birmingham.

“More or less. It was a gift to Arthur.”

You grin. “A gift you didn’t buy.”

“A gift, nonetheless.” he takes a long drag of the cigarette, cautious as he blows the smoke out of his nose and in a direction that wasn’t facing you. “Heard about your uncle.”

You nod, posture stiffening. “May his soul rot.”

Tommy raises his eyebrows and his glass, downing his drink. “Cheers.”

“So,” you lean back in your seat. “What has Thomas Shelby been up to all these years?”

Tommy mimics your actions, scratching at his face. “Making business happen. Staying out of trouble.”

“You’re trying to be legal?” your curiosity piqued.

“Something like that.” He holds his arms out wide. “We’re expanding.”

“Into London. Fucking with the status quo there, I heard.”

Something in Tommy’s face hardens and he regards you with contempt. “Is that so?”

“It’s kind of my business to know. You are stepping into my turf. I don’t give a shit either way, this feud you have with the Italians is kind of good for business.”

“How?”

You take out a cigarette of your own, a long black cigarette holder accompanying it. Thomas doesn’t take his eyes off of you as he strikes a match, watching your mouth closely as you take a few drags. “People are far too concerned if there’s war coming to worry about women and their petty activities. Makes it easier to get into their pockets.”

“Did someone send you here?” He asks slowly, a tiny gun appearing on the table.

You chuckle, shaking your head. “No. As I have mentioned, I’m not interested in whatever dick measuring contest you have going on with Sabini. I’m just a girl who came to dance on her dead uncle’s grave.”

Tommy can tell that you’re being honest. It was refreshing but strange, he wasn’t one to openly trust people. You were the one person who didn’t care about what he was doing in a sea of people who questioned his every move.

“Dick measuring contest, eh?”

You had been fucked well before, sometimes from other women but nothing compared to how well Thomas Shelby was fucking you now.

His home was modest, clean cut and devoid of character. You were currently bent over on his bed being hastily taken from behind. It was as if he had just returned home from the war, eager and hungry for a woman’s touch. He couldn’t get enough.

Tommy staggers backwards, tapping your ass to get your attention.

“Fucking come here.” he rasps out and you giggle as he moves papers off a desk in the corner, hauling you on top of it. You spread your legs so he could slot himself in between them, entering you again with no hesitation.

“Don’t step on my dress.” you moan out, crossing your legs along his back.

“That, shit, all you care about now?” Tommy hisses, placing a hand on your hip to keep you still.

You nod furiously, leaning your head back against the wall and closing your eyes. You had already come undone twice and felt the third emerging soon.

“Fuck,” Tommy pants, taking his other hand and wrapping it around your throat. You loved the feeling of being choked and worked hard to memorize the touch of his fingers squeezing your skin. “I’ll buy you another dress. I’ll buy the fucking dress factory. You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

“Yes, fuck yes, Tommy.” You tighten around his cock as you come again, causing him to groan and weaken his stamina. “I want you to give me everything I ask for.”

“What do you want, hm?” He questions, making sure to maintain eye contact with you. It was difficult to keep your eyes open but you’d be damned if you didn’t try.

“I want your cum, all of it. I want you to empty your balls,” you reach a hand down for added effect. “Into my cunt.”

And just like that, Tommy thrusts into you forcefully twice more before coming to completion. You both groan at the sensation, the trickling of his seed oozing out of you and down your thigh. He rests his head against your shoulder, breathing heavily. You allow your legs to go slack, wincing at how stiff they had gotten.

After a moment of rest, Tommy helps you into bed where the two of you take the time to decompress.

“You’re marked.” Thomas comments, trailing a finger down the scar on the back of your left shoulder. It was in the shape of the number four, a reminder of what - who - you belonged to.

Joining the Forty Elephants was an honest mistake. When you arrived and couldn’t secure a place on your own, you resorted to petty theft just like any other low class person in your position. It had been the wrong place at the wrong time. You slipped inside of a clothing store, hoping to pick up a few nice shirts so you could find a steady job that wasn’t walking the streets at night. Turns out the Forty Elephants were at the height of a heist and you barged right into the middle of it.

You were caught and arrested with three other women. You begged and pleaded with the police, urging them to believe you when you said you were acting out on your own. You were all jailed together and you spent the night getting the living daylights kicked out of you. The next morning, the four of you were released and you were handed off to the leader of the up and coming gang.

“Some fucking runt you are.” She spat, sizing you up. You were interrogated relentlessly, the boss lady, Mary, assuming you were sent in by a rival gang to screw them up on purpose. When you justified your case, she nodded. You were brought in, taken care of and most importantly, you were protected.

You made nice with the other girls and became a skilled pickpocket, lock picker and seductress. The nickname “duchess” came after you managed to lift a hefty sum, including a car, from a duke. It was then you elevated your style and sense of purpose. You began to educate yourself, investing in legal companies and stockpiling your wealth for a rainy day.

You knew that life with the Elephants wouldn’t last forever and you needed a way out when the time came.

“It was my initiation.” You tell Tommy, breath catching slightly as his touch made you shiver.

He hums, pressing a small kiss to it. “I saw you that night.”

You frown, flipping over on your side to face him. He invites you to lay closer and you gingerly accept his invitation, perching yourself on his chest. “What do you mean?”

Tommy takes another puff from his cigarette before answering. “When you left Birmingham. It was at night. I was taking a walk with my brothers, and saw you scrambling to get out of the house. You ran like a bat out of hell. Never looked back once.”

“Oh.” You look down at your fingers, absentmindedly stroking the tattoo on his chest. You take a second to formulate a response, unsure of how to answer after years of not speaking about it. Tommy doesn’t push, waiting patiently for an answer that may never come.

After a moment of silence, you give him one. “He said I reminded him of her. Before she died, he was cold and distant. Afterwards, it was as if I had taken her place. It wasn’t the first time it happened. I remember crying a lot after. But that night, for whatever reason, I was determined to make it the last.”

You swallow thickly, brows furrowed as you replay the scene in your head. “I waited on him. Nearly fell asleep but like clockwork, he came creeping in the wee hours of the morning. I managed to stab him five times before I got away.”

Maneuvering yourself out of Tommy’s arms, you straddle him instead, pinpointing all the places you cut your uncle.

“Twice here.” You tap at his right peck with your finger. “Once in the stomach, once in the arm and once on his shoulder. He was a big guy and it was as if it didn’t faze him. Killing him didn’t matter at that point, I just wanted to be gone. So, I ran. Everyday for years, I kept looking over my shoulder, sure that he was going to show up and try to take me home. I hated myself. He got to live out his life and I suffered because of him.”

The tears surprised you as they dripped down your cheeks, hot and constant. Tommy is bemused as he wipes them away, his face never changing. You always pondered on who Tommy really was and what went on underneath the mask he was wearing. Then again, perhaps there was no mask to begin with.

“It’s stupid, I know.” you continue, hurriedly swiping at your eyes.

“It’s not. You did what you needed to do, what you thought was right. No one can ever blame you for that.”

“Funny, coming from a Peaky Blinder.” you chide with a small grin.

“Even funnier, coming from an Elephant.” he retorts without wasting a breath.

You sigh, placing your hands against his broad chest. “Cut from the same cloth, are we?”

Tommy nods, setting the now stub of a cigarette out in the ashtray placed on the nightstand. He turns his attention back to you, mind racing as he studies your features. How he let you slip away, how he went years without seeking you out plagued him from time to time. You were elusive, a mirage of a seemingly perfect woman he shouldn't taint with his touch. You’ve grown into your features, personality blossoming. You weren’t subservient like many of the other women he had encountered, all who would bat their eyelashes at him in hopes that they would get picked to be with a real gangster.

“Stay. I have an opening in my office, we could use the help. You’d straighten out Arthur, no doubt.”

You scoff, running a hand through his hair. “I don’t want to be a guard dog or a bloody receptionist, Tommy. Besides, I’m expected back in London tomorrow.”

“Why?”

“Family business.”

Tommy lights another cigarette at that.

“You could come with me. I wouldn’t force you to stay but maybe just to take your mind off of things?”

“Can’t. Family business.”

You laugh quietly, shrugging your shoulders. “What we wouldn’t do for those we love.”

The walk home from Tommy’s is uneventful, both basking in each other’s silence. It was comfortable and intimate, the only thing interrupting it was the sound of children out playing far too late and drunken men hurling commentary out at anyone that walked by them.

The folks of Brimingham were familiar with the Shelby’s but they aren't familiar with you which is how you became a prime target for unwanted advances. The man had to have been well beyond plastered, for any woman seen with Tommy was assumed to be his.

You couldn’t even understand half of what the agitated bloke was saying, just that he was making weird gestures with hands, pretending to jerk himself off. Others had attempted to warn him and even Tommy moved in for the kill but you stopped him.

“No, no. I want to hear what this lad has to say. What’s this then? You wanna have a go with me? Is this how you approach all the women you like?”

You feign boredom, sticking both hands in the pockets of your coat. You rummage around in your right pocket, discreetly slipping your fingers into the holes of a brass knuckle.

“Yeah, it is. Now, when you’re done with this half starved looking bastard, how about you come home with a real man who can fuck you until-”

Your movements were swift and graceful, as if you had done this a hundred times before. The knuckles smash into the poor man’s face, instantly cracking and breaking his nose. Tumbling onto the ground, you crouch over the drunkard and wail on him until splatters of blood dot your face like a painting.

Tommy watches as you all but kill this man with your bare hands and does absolutely nothing. His overwhelming glare warned the others to back off while you continued, the bystanders knowing what their fate could look like should they interfere.

Panting, you back off the guy, using your free hand to wipe at your face. You spit, step across the moaning body and proceed towards your lodgings as if nothing occurred. Tommy falls in step with you, offering a handkerchief which you accept. While the Forty Elephants appeared to be harmless with crimes of shoplifting and bribery, you had a more rampageous approach to it all. The streets of London had toughened you, like it or not.

At the end of the day, you needed to make sure that you could take care of yourself and if it meant taking another person’s life, so be it.

Tommy had never wanted you more. But nothing good could come out of the two of you being together, you both knew that. It would be similar to chaining two wild dogs together and expecting them not to bite each other's necks off when there’s only enough food for one.

You had the Elephants and London. He had Brimingham and the Blinders. Somewhere, you would meet in the middle but there wasn’t room for overlap. Tommy was sure that being wed to an Elephant meant more turf and control but he wouldn’t dare do that to you. He couldn’t do it to himself. He would come to you whenever he wanted and you’d do the same to him.

Rich straightens up upon seeing your silhouette, clasping his hands together in front of him obediently. He takes one look at your face and reaches inside his coat to grab his gun when you raise a hand out.

“S’alright. Just had a little accident. You know Tommy.”

Rich gives Tommy a once over before relaxing.

“Shall I see you inside, then?”

You gesture at Rich to go on ahead of you, planting yourself firmly in front of Thomas. “No, I think it’s better if we say our goodbyes out here.”

Tommy smiles briefly, lighting yet another cigarette. “You don’t trust me?”

“I don’t trust that I’ll make it back to London tomorrow if you do come up.”

He takes a small step towards you, jawline rigid as he exhales through his nose. “I could leave early, before you wake up.”

“I wouldn’t allow you to.” Plucking the flaming stick out his mouth, you press a wistful kiss to his lips, melting into his embrace as he deepens it.

Hesitant to pull away, you ease back reluctantly. Your hands smooth his across his coat, reaching upwards to tug at his beloved hat.

“When you’re in London, I expect a call.”

Thomas rests his forehead against yours, licking at his dried lips. “I’ll always make sure to pay the Duchess a visit.”

You peck his lips one last time before returning the cigarette. Tommy watches as you disappear inside the hotel, satisfied knowing that you were safe and back in your room. Doubling back to the Garrison, now in full swing for the night, he gets welcomed with a drink from John and a pat on the back from Arthur.

“Tell me brother, what’s it like to be with royalty, eh? Is her pussy made out of gold?” Arthur cracks himself up, thoroughly entertained by his own quip.

“Fuck off, Arthur.” Tommy says dryly, taking a swig of whiskey.

“Did you tell her?”

Tommy raises an eyebrow at John. “Tell her what?”

“About her fuckin’ uncle?”

Tommy doesn’t answer and the two brothers give each other a glance.

“Bloody hell, Tommy-” Arthur starts. Tommy raises a hand and waves him off.

“Of course I didn’t fucking tell her. All that matters is that he’s in the ground, eh? Now get me another bottle and stop whining in my fucking ear.”

Arthur is slow as he departs from his sibling, a lopsided smirk plaguing his face.

Tommy thinks to himself that maybe he should’ve mentioned how your uncle actually died. You were told that he had a nasty fall after a night out of heavy drinking. In reality, it was the Peaky Blinders doing. Not only was your uncle a piece of shit, he also had a gambling problem. He got mixed in with the wrong folks and unknowingly stole money from the Blinders to help pay off a gambling debt. He was sloppy in execution which caught the attention of Tommy.

Upon finding out who actually took his money, Tommy made it a personal mission to seek him out. The man, Ronald, folded like a chair when Tommy and the boys appeared on his doorstep. He cried and begged for mercy, which they showed him none. Especially not after he confessed what he had done to you.

Ronald knew you made it to London and had fallen into some money, so whenever he got into debt he just told people that you were wealthy and would deliver money for his payments. Even after you cut ties with him and tried to kill him, he proceeded to use you.

Tommy wouldn’t have it.

“Oi! Tommy!” Arthur returns with the bottle in hand. “You got any spare cash on ya? I wanna set up a quick date with Beatrice.”

Tommy looks at his brother with slight disdain and rolls his eyes. “I’m not your accountant.”

“Yeah, yeah. I left my wad back at the office. Just cough it up, would ya?”

“If it means I won’t have to look at your face anymore, fine.”

Tommy reaches inside his pants pocket where he normally keeps an emergency stack and finds it empty. Scowling, Tommy pats himself down extensively before the light bulb goes off.

He laughs.

Not a cheeky snicker or a lame jest. Thomas Shelby actually laughs.

Confused but willing to follow his brother anywhere, Arthur begins to laugh as well until they’re both hanging onto each other, gasping for air.

At the hotel, you answer the door to your room, thanking the bellboy for bringing up your dinner. Tucking a hand in your bra, a wad of cash spills out. You grab a handful of it and place it into the hand of the blushing young man. He stammers out a thank you, hightailing it back to the lobby.

You get comfortable in bed, eager to dive into the captivating spread laid out in front of you. Closing your eyes, you fold your hands in front of you in mock prayer.

“Thank you dear lord for this appetizing food and for the Peaky fucking Blinders. Amen.”

#Thomas Shelby x female reader #Thomas Shelby x fem!reader #Tommy Shelby x fem reader #Tommy Shelby x fem!reader #fic: the Duchess of London #Tommy shelby x you #Tommy Shelby x reader

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toms-cherry-trees · 6 months

Text

Don't Hold My Hand (I'll Break Your Heart) || Tommy Shelby x Fem OC ~ Ch. 1

Summary: Charlotte begins her new life at Arrow House, where things prove to be more daunting than she thought. The first bits of Tommy's past are uncovered

Word Count: 4k

Warnings: Tommy being a violent insolent ass. Usage of period accurate ableist terms for a disabled person

Author's note: SO SORRY FOR THE DELAY! Life and health got in the way and I had a massive writer's block for this story. This one is more to law background for what is to come but I promise it will be worth! Next chapter is already on the works and I have it mostly laid out

Requested taglist: @call-sign-shark

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The clattering of broken porcelain disrupted the peacefulness of the Friday morning, the shards of white and the remnants of breakfast spread over the hand woven carpets. Thomas had launched the plate with masterful precision in what Charlotte could only describe as an adult sized temper tantrum akin to a spoiled toddler. The teacup had followed a similar fate, ruining the expensive fabrics furthermore.

Charlotte had been working for a little over three weeks in Arrow House, and so far, things had progressed worse than she had originally anticipated. Enough to make her reconsider her vocation.

Thomas Shelby proved himself to be an almost unconquerable adversary, resisting tooth and nail every effort she made to help him in any way, shape or form. He refused aid in leaving the bed and dressing in the mornings, choosing instead to spend the best part of an hour struggling and cursing while Charlotte watched from the side, exasperated at his bullheadedness, but always within reach and ready to jump to his aid. He preferred his hair and beard to grow long and scruffy rather than allow her to give him a trim and shave; when Charlotte told him the castaway look didn’t suit him, he didn’t even cast a shadow of a smile. Any medicine served by her hand would be unjustly spilled or discarded, and even something as innocuous as a glass of water would be treated as if Thomas had been served poison straight from the bottle. She often had to sip or taste foods in front of him to prove she meant no harm.

That morning, he had refused to eat for the second day in a row, demanding to be served only whiskey or gin and his pack of cigarettes. He had been cross from the moment he woke up, all because Charlotte had laid his clothes on his bed within his reach to make it easier for him to dress unaided and grant him a piece of the independence he craved. She had even set a basin and cloth in a stool by the bed so he could have a morning wash to the best of his abilities.

Exhausted already with his mulish behaviour, she sat in front of him, ready to convince him by all means necessary, including force, to get him to have a bite. But no sooner had she sat next to him, he had flipped over the carefully arranged breakfast table, sending scrambled eggs and tea in every direction and destroying a most lovely set of blue crockery. Splatters of food stained the white apron and foresleeves of her uniform. A muscle ticked in her jaw, but she refrained herself from throttling Thomas and instead stood up slowly, hands laced and an amiable smile tugging at her lips, showcasing a patience that had begun to wear thin.

“You have to eat, Thomas” Charlotte spoke slowly, as if that way that man would somehow understand and change his attitude; but sooner would pigs fly than Thomas Shelby agreeing with anyone other than himself. He ought to be commanded on his determination to be obtuse.

“And I said I don’t want to” He quipped, watching in near amusement as Charlotte dropped on hands and knees to gather the broken porcelain inside the empty water basin, using the cloth to protect her hands and wipe the food. She knew she could just call a maid in to do the dirty job, but back in the old days, nurses acted as caretakers, maids, cooks and everything in between. She didn’t see the point of calling a girl all the way from downstairs for so little; and besides, she didn’t want witnesses on her failure to control her patient, nor subject another innocent soul to undeserved wrath.

“You need to eat to take your medicines, Thomas. Or you will ruin your stomach” The first couple of days he tried to force her to call him Mr. Shelby, but she quickly shot it down. Long gone were the days when she would have called him Sergeant Major Shelby and she would have been Nurse Tindall. They were Thomas and Charlotte, whether he approved or not. She would not give him even the slightless space to think himself superior to her in any way.

He waved his hand, dismissing her concerns as mere nuisances, as he did with every other thing she did for him. Thomas rejected the medicines daily, especially the pain medicines, but Charlotte knew better. Her sharp eye soon noticed how the liquid inside the bottles would remain the same and then suddenly drop a considerable amount overnight; Thomas didn’t retain enough usage of his legs to walk long distances unaided, but he surely had enough strength of body and mind to stagger towards the cabinet where she kept the vials and bottles. He drank his fill, even if he denied it, and surely more than he should.

“I’m not taking those fucking things” He snapped “Now get out of my room” He maneuvered the chair towards the doors leading to the veranda. If allowed to, any day he would move his bed and desk out there and just spend the rest of his days staring at the trees and the horses trotting in the paddocks, feeling the kiss of the sun in his skin and enjoying the breeze carrying scents of earth and trees. The first days, she offered Thomas many times to take him out for a walk in the gardens, or even take him to the paddocks; but he shot down every attempt with a ridiculing sneer and some less than kind words

Frustrated but not yet defeated, Charlotte tossed the last of the broken porcelain into the basin, perhaps with more strength than she should, and carried it downstairs towards the kitchens. As she descended the grand staircase, she made a conscious effort not to look at the paintings. For whenever she walked past them, she felt Mrs. Shelby’s penetrating gaze following her steps.

Her portrait outshone all the others, hanging front and centre overseeing the foyer. Blonde hair curled fashionably, clad in an emerald green frock with golden trimming and covered in jewels, from the impressive necklace to the heavy earrings hung with pearls. The frame stood as tall as two people, engraved mahogany wrapped in gold leaf. Her icon dominated the house, seen in multiple photographs and smaller paintings in every room. But none matched the opulence of that one, and none unnerved Charlotte as much.

She had the portrait, but she didn’t have the person. In three weeks, not once had she come face to face with Mrs. Shelby. True, her duties limited her only to the second floor and occasionally the kitchen, but surely a wife would come to visit her husband every now and then? Charlotte never asked, as she had no reason nor true desire to know of her whereabouts, and simply assumed she was away, perhaps visiting family or on a trip to the new world.

But even then, it puzzled her to think she would leave behind her young son. Little Charlie, who lived his days surrounded by nannies since no one seemed to have time for him. Thomas seldom saw him; only when someone brought the toddler directly to him did he gift the boy some insipid paternal love in the form of a ruffle of the hair and a pinch of the cheek. These encounters distressed the boy, who pouted and whined most of the time, as if feeling himself endangered by Thomas’ presence. A child so isolated from his father he no longer recognised him as a source of safety.

As Charlotte entered the kitchens, she came face to face with Mrs. Gray. The woman seldom left the house either, but unlike Thomas, for vastly different reasons. She spent her day, morning to bedtime, divided between meetings, phone calls, paperwork and more meetings. Arrow House housed the family’s race horses

and she spoke daily with the trainers and the vet, as well as with a pudgy, bald man who came exclusively to deliver a foal. Men also came to the house, seeking to see Thomas but never making it pass the impenetrable barrier of his formidable aunt. They always spoke outside, as far as possible from prying ears, and left as swiftly and quietly as they came, more often than not pocketing paper envelopes or packing suitcases in the trunks of their cars. Charlotte never asked, having taught herself quickly to turn a blind eye to whatever happened under the roof that wasn’t supposed to. She had been hired to care for a man, not to keep tabs on the family affairs.

But Charlotte suspected she also wanted to keep an eye on things, mostly on how Lottie and Thomas got along. It did not go unnoticed, how often Charlotte found her lingering outside the double doors or standing halfway through the grand staircase, always within earshot, but always with an excuse perched upon her lips should she be caught. Perhaps she just wanted to ensure Thomas behaved; or maybe stood at guard ready to catch Charlotte before she could flee the job in panic.

Now, she sat at the large wooden table sipping tea and nibbling biscuits, the newspaper spread in front of her. Despite her high status within the house, she could often be found having her meals downstairs alone, eating roasted goose and lamb chops and drinking oak aged whiskey while sitting on benches of coarse wood and warmed up by the cooking stove, her finely made clothes impregnating in the smell of smoke and onions. Charlotte knew the Shelbys had come bottom to top, but sometimes it appeared they hadn’t quite settled there comfortably. At least Mrs. Gray seemed to enjoy climbing down a few rungs in the ladder every now and then.

Charlotte avoided eye contact with her at all costs as she fetched the garbage bin, her back turned to hide the basin from view as she tipped the food and shards inside. She tried to do it silently, but nothing could mask the unmistakable sound of broken porcelain and guilt.

“He did it again?” Her voice broke through the silence, making Charlotte flinch instinctively, although the words only carried shame and tired exasperation, feelings shared by both women. Still she felt like a child, caught by her mother failing miserably at a task she promised she would accomplish easily.

She straightened her back and turned around oozing improvised confidence, smile never faltering as she faced her employer, the basin perched in her hands in a way that hid the porridge stains inside. No one would dare look at her and think that Thomas had slowly but steadily driven her to her wits’ end. No, they had to just take one look at her and immediately be assured that everything was perfect. She had to be the image of calm and composed, even when she just wanted to rip out her hair.

“Just a mishap, Mrs. Gray, nothing to be concerned with. I misplaced the tray and knocked it over when I stood. I promise it won’t happen again” The smile widened just enough to appear reassuring, perfectly matched with her soothing voice. She would sooner concoct a dozen lies than admit she might have found her match in the likes of Thomas Shelby. Charlotte was not foreign to difficult patients; men too prideful or obstinate to welcome help even at their lowest point. But they all bent the knee sooner or later. Everyone had a limit, a line that once crossed forced them to admit defeat. She just had to find Thomas’ line, wherever it drew. Surely no mortal man could be so obdurate.

The corner of Mrs. Gray’s lips rose in a half smirk, a glint of bemusement in her features; she knew liars and tricksters when she saw them, even if they only carried good intentions on their false words. She could smell them from fifty paces.

“You must have launched yourself from the seat then, since I could hear the plates crashing from down here. As if it flew across the room purposefully” Heat rose to Charlotte’s cheeks but she did not waver in her stance. Her lips parted to speak, but Mrs. Gray beat her to it, standing up and rummaging through the cupboards.

“Sit.” The order was spoken softly, but an order nonetheless.

Lottie swallowed “There’s no need. I left Thomas alone and-”

“He can survive for fifteen minutes, and you look like you need a cup”

Defeated, and secretly glad to have a break, Charlotte abided, taking a seat and leaving the basin carefully hidden under the table. Soon a cup of tea steamed before her, Earl Grey with no milk and three sugars. She stirred it with the spoon tiredly, letting the metal heat up in her hand, but she couldn’t find it in her to bring it up to her lips as a sudden wave of exhaustion washed over her.

A comfortable silence lingered, broken only by the occasional servant who headed to the kitchen, but turned and left the second they saw the two women sitting there. Peering through her eyelashes, Charlotte noticed Mrs Gray didn’t even look in her direction, more focused on her breakfast and her newspaper, waiting for the younger woman to speak first. Lottie sipped her tea, hoping the soothing liquid would undo the knot she felt in her stomach every time she found herself in Mrs. Gray’s presence.

“He is difficult” She admitted, feeling like an officer admitting to the general that they had lost a battle. The battle, but not the war; she hadn’t sunk so low yet “And you warned me so, and I believed you because I saw it myself when I met him. But I thought he was just another veteran embittered with life that just needed the nudge in the right direction. I thought- “

“That you could help him” She completed the sentence with an understanding nod, as if she had seen the words written across Charlotte’s forehead. As if those piercing, dark eyes granted her the power to read others’ minds. And more than once, Lottie believed the Shelby matriarch possessed some skills that could only be described as magic or a sixth sense. She saw beyond the range of the normal eye, that much she could tell. And now the woman saw through Charlotte as easily as if she had been made of glass.

“But now he has proved to be more than you can chew'' The words didn’t come off as reproachful or taunting. Mrs. Gray didn’t seem to find joy in the admission of her defeat; rather she sounded empathic, as she could easily understand her plight. And she did, considering that she had been the one burdening the weight of her nephew’s care in between the cracks. Only she knew to a personal level the difficulties that came with caring for the ailing; worse even when they are your family.

Charlotte took a long sip, letting it soothe her nerves. Because if she freed her mouth to speak, she might say something she would regret; such as that maybe she overestimated her abilities for the job. Common sense told her that no amount of money could be worth being subjected to such treatment, but the sense of duty that pulled at her whenever she stared into Thomas’ eyes overpowered said logic. He had given all he had for the sake of duty, and Charlotte could not deprive him of the care she could provide him just because he behaved like an insufferable prick.

“Has he always been like this?” The question left her mouth without permission. A question that had been circling in her head since the first day. War had changed them all, but such an attitude had to have a foundation. She had managed to rip out smiles from men who had been maimed, disfigured and ruined beyond help. Thomas only reciprocated her efforts by giving her the overwhelming desire to smack him around “I know he is angry, and he is entitled to it. But…” She shook her head “He is unlike anything I have met before”

“Tommy has that effect on people” Mrs Gray replied “He always had a special talent to be unsettling to others for various reasons. Even as a teenager. And he never withstood being seen as weak or defenceless.” She pushed aside the breakfast and newspaper to lean in closer to Charlotte, those deep eyes of hers fixed upon the young nurse.

“Before all of this happened, back when he was…normal” She grimaced at that word, and so did Charlotte. He was not abnormal, just different “He prided himself in dominating every room he stepped in. In the fear and respect he inspired on others. People looked at him and they lowered their eyes and shut their mouths. They moved out of his way when he walked and tipped their hats in his direction. No one spoke before he did. If he told a man to act like a dog, you can be damn sure that man would bark and wiggle his tail. No one went against him”

Mrs. Gray leaned back again, hands laced before her, her multiple rings making quiet sounds as she wrung her hands tightly “Having people looking down at him, seeing him as a broken and useless thing, it is something he cannot handle. As if all the power he once held slipped between his fingers like sand. So he overcompensates with his temper.If he cannot make you look up at him, he will make sure you feel inferior to him” The words resonated with Charlotte, and they made sense, in a sick way. If he could not tower over others, he could only diminish them to keep them under his foot. And he redoubled those efforts with Charlotte, who acted unwilling to bow her head.

“Is he the same with all his family? I mean, how does his wife stand him?” Another embarrassingly indiscreet question she didn’t mean to pronounce but could not be taken back now. Besides, the opportunity to sate her curiosity had presented itself so easily she could not let it go to waste. Whoever he had married, the poor woman had earned the key to the pearly gates for putting up with him.

Mrs. Gray’s expression darkened, her lips downturning into a scowl and her shoulders tensing noticeably “She doesn’t. She didn’t” She sighed slowly, taking her sweet time to pick out a cigarette from the golden case “When his problems began, Tommy distanced himself from her. He refused to share her bed. You can imagine why” She took a long drag, exhaling the smoke through her nose as she stared at the wall behind Lottie “She didn’t try to bridge the gap; if anything, she made it bigger. I suppose when she said in sickness and in health before the altar, she hadn’t expected sickness to be like this. No respectable woman wants to be married to a cripple” Contempt and bitterness laced the words, her lips scrunched like she had tasted bile.

“One day she left, as simply as that, fled in the night like a common criminal. Took the jewels and the money and boarded the first steamboat for America. Didn’t even think to take her son with her” Mrs. Gray spoke of the act with undeniable hatred; a hatred only a mother could muster, witnessing another mother abandoning her young child without a second look.

The revelation shocked Charlotte, and a wave of sympathy flooded her suddenly. To lose the ability to walk, to lose his superiority, and also his wife? Even though it did not justify his actions entirely, it did allow him some slack. Any person in his position would harbour anger towards the world, but that didn’t mean he had to release it on every soul that crossed his path

“What happened then?”

“Sent a lawyer to handle the divorce for her. I thought Tommy would fight her with everything he had, but he didn’t. He simply agreed to give his signature on the condition she left Charlie to him. And she did. Signed off her rights to her own baby for some American cock” She spat aside, as if riding herself of venom; as if speaking of that woman would be enough to poison her

Charlotte sat there baffled, still processing the information she had just received. To think that the woman whose face she stared at every day had abandoned her family, her husband and son, and yet her picture remained up there in the wall, in the place of honour like a venerable goddess. Tommy had given her the divorce to set her free, but he refused to let go of her memory. Out of love or to preserve it for their son she couldn’t tell. Pity crept into her, as much as she didn’t want to. It showed in her eyes and her face, in the way her posture dropped and how her hands lowered to her lap.

“What a horrible thing” She lamented, her tone dropping an octave as she shook her head in disbelief “How could she do something like that?”

“Not many are willing to be a lifetime caretaker. You should know that better than most” She snuffed the cigarette on the table, leaving a little darkened mark along countless others, no doubt all of them of her own creation.

“Charlotte, there is a reason why I chose you to come instead of putting up an advertisement and letting candidates flock in like birds. You are resilient, I can tell just by the way you smile every morning at Thomas even when he yells and curses and breaks things at your feet. He is difficult and you are strong willed” The hint of a smirk returned to her face, a certain mischief glinting in her eyes “I know Thomas will eventually give in to you. Just give him more time”

More time. How much more? She could only take so much, and even the most cheerful person in the kingdom would find themselves chipped away by constant berating and mistreatment. But she had made herself a promise, to pick up this lost cause and not drop it. Mrs. Gray counted on her and trusted her, otherwise she would not have made her privy to the secrets of Thomas’ life. And that pulling she felt, that unexplainable and irrepressible sense of protection she felt for him, whether he liked it or not.

She had never been one to believe in otherworldly things, but she knew, unconsciously, that she had been put in Thomas’ path for a reason. A duty she could not abandon. Because if she dropped his cause, there may be no one else to pick it up.

Charlotte finished her tea and took a deep breath. The conversation had renewed her vigour and boosted her confidence in the task ahead. She stood from the table and smoothed down her apron

“I won’t give up on him, Mrs. Gray. I know he needs help and I will be there for it, no matter how much he pushes me away”

Mrs. Gray smiled; not a smirk, but a sincere smile.

“Good to hear. He will need someone now more than ever”

That little bit puzzled Charlotte, her eyebrows furrowed and head slightly cocked to the left

“What do you mean by that?”

Mrs. Gray stood up, a new cigarette perched between two fingers. She let expectation build up as she went through the process of selecting a match from the box to light her cigarette

“A doctor is coming in a few days. A new therapist from London, expert in wounded veterans he says”

She flicked the butt of the cigarette with her nail, as if debating whether or not to continue.

“He thinks he can make Tommy walk again”

#marsie writes #tommy shelby imagine #tommy shelby x reader #tommy shelby x you #tommy shelby x oc #tommy shelby x fem oc #tommy shelby fanfic #tommy shelby series #tommy shelby one shot #charlotte tindall #female oc #tommy shelby #thomas shelby #peaky blinders #don't hold my hand (i'll break your heart)

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lis-likes-fics · 9 months

Text

A Deal’s a Deal (Pt. 2)

Pairings: Tommy Shelby x Gold!Reader Word Count: 10.4k words Warnings: NSFW, smut, spoilers, swearing, smoking, death, angst, phone sex, masturbation, age gap (Tommy is late 30s, Reader is late 20s), oral (f!receiving), heavy praise, breeding kink, Tommy is nice... A/N: So I decided to write a second part to show a completely different side of Tommy bc of course. This is not filthy as it is angsty. This contains spoilers for seasons 4 and 5 if you have not already watched them. I hope you enjoy this part, I put a lot of time into it! Thank you!

You wrapped Tommy’s jacket around you, draping it over your shoulders and admiring the weight of his scent wrapped around you. He’d just left you in the bedroom, left only in a bedgown as you waited for him to return to you after dealing with business that had shown up on the front lawn. But you were curious.

As you ventured toward the window, where the blaring lights from the car out front were shining through, even from the height of the first floor, you looked over the chaos of muffled shouts and cries. You tilted your head as you continued to quietly observe, trying to figure out who it was causing such a disturbance here so late in the night.

When you realised that you recognised the person yelling at Tommy, you were out of the door in seconds, panicked as you rushed through the hall and down the stairs. Once at the bottom of the stairs, you caught Charlie trying to peek out of the door in search of the situation which had caught his attention.

You knelt in front of him, offering a kind smile as you focused his attention on you. “Hey, Charlie,” you said in a sticky sweet voice. “Why don’t you come sit down while I go see what your father is up to, eh?”

He looked at you, only half interested. “Screaming,” he spoke in his tiny voice, referring to the men arguing outside.

“I know. Isn’t it just so annoying?” You stood and took his hand, leading him away until you could hand him off to a freshly woken Mary to take elsewhere. With Charlie out of the way, patting his head as he departed, you went back to the front door. You didn’t leave yet, choosing to stay there with the gun hidden underneath the table by the door and watch the men argue.

Aberama looked a mess, covered in blood and sweat. He was hysterical, and you could not understand a single word he was saying. Johnny Dogs was by the car, just as hurt as your father seemed to be, though less frantic as he clutched his side in pain. All you could hear were threats, loud, desperate threats spouting from Aberama’s mouth in Johnny’s direction garbled by anger and something deeper.

“Listen to me!” Tommy shouted, trying to catch his attention as he cradled his head and attempted to hold him still to get him to calm down. He forced him to look at him as he spoke.

“How can a one-armed man avenge the death of his son, eh?”

Your heart dropped in your chest and then leapt to your throat. The ground shook and the air stood still. You swallowed hard, wide eyed and not entirely sure you were still breathing. The word came out of your mouth but it was muffled in your ears as you took a step out of the door with breath caught in your lungs.

“Dad?”

Everything stopped as they all turned their gazes on you, a variety of emotions crossing their faces before settling on sudden realisation. You stared your father in the eye, ignoring the sting of tears as you took it all in—the suffocation, the shock. When did the world become so blurry?

Aberama looked away from you, his grief deepening as he turned his gaze back on Tommy with a new kind of rage. “They crucified my son…” he huffed, “for you.”

You felt paralysed as you stood there, helpless to find a way to fix all of this. You were supposed to fix it. You were the older sister, the family’s caretaker. You had to fix it, but you didn’t know how.

You were ripped from your spiral at the struggling grunts your father made breaking away from Tommy and grabbing the firearm discarded on the ground. He stumbled away to stand between you and Tommy, pointing the gun right at him. “You stay away from my fucking daughter!” he shrieked.

The blasting sounds of bullets shot into the air and stopped everything. You hadn’t even realised you were the gun shooting until words were leaving your mouth and you felt the tingling of blood leaving your hand from being held in the air for so long.

“Put down the gun, Dad,” you said, calmly at first as you stared him down with eyes that had not yet caught up to your body.

He looked at you and mumbled your name, nearly defeated as he watched you. The next words to leave your mouth were not so calm as they scratch at your throat with the force you used to scream them and aimed your gun at Aberema with an anger to be reckoned with.

“I told you to put down the fucking gun or I’ll shoot it out of your hands!”

He hesitated, taking you in before obliging. Slowly, he set the gun down and put his hands up to show peace. You didn’t lower your own weapon, though your hands shook and your jaw trembled with barely contained tears. Everyone stood still and watched you try not to unravel.

You took in a shaky breath. “Yes or no…” Your sigh was watery as you closed your eyes to steady yourself before looking back at your father. You licked your lips, “...Is my little brother dead?”

Aberama’s hands fell to his sides, swinging there as he let them go limp. His gaze broke from yours. He was slow to respond, not quite present but not as dazed as part of him wished to be. His voice was low, nearly inaudible. He opened his mouth, struggling to speak, “...Yes.”

You closed your eyes and gaze a silent sob one breath to escape. The tears that had been piling in your eyes finally slipped out. One, two, three slid down your chin and dripped to the gravel beneath your feet. You inhaled again, composing yourself again.

“Are my sisters safe?” you asked.

His eyes could only meet yours for a half second. “They’re with family.”

“Do they know?”

“Not yet.”

The sound of gravel crunching under someone’s shoes has you turning toward the sound with the precision of a trained marksman as you aim the barrel of the gun at Tommy, glaring at him trying to come nearer to you.

“Tommy, I swear to God, if you come any closer, I’ll fucking shoot you.”

He assessed you, taking in your anger, your pain, and deciding from there whether your words were empty. With another step, you gripped the gun tighter, but made no move with the trigger. He approached you slowly, testing you and your threat. By the time he was standing in front of you, you had done nothing but stare at him with a shaky grasp and breath. He placed his hand on the gun, pushing it down and snatching it from your hands. Emptying the barrel, his eyes didn’t leave yours as you watched him limply.

When his arms wrapped around you, the fire in your bones ignited. You were so much like your father in that way—your brother, too—a fighter, all of you. You fought him, you kicked and screamed and punched as you tried to get him to get off of you. Your brother was dead, your baby brother was gone, and you could never get him back and Tommy was standing here trying to hold you to him when you could never hold your brother again?

The touch was much too warm, the confinement stifling. You couldn't breathe, couldn't get the air to your lungs as your gasps made your throat hoarse and rough. The fight left so quickly as Tommy endured against your fight, keeping you locked in his arms until your anger relinquished and you dissolved into nothing but sobs into his shoulder. He held you as you stopped screaming, held you as the tears soaked his clothes. He held you as you trembled, too exhausted to keep fighting. Your legs were on the verge of giving out. He was the only thing to hold you up as you broke down against him.

“He’s dead, Tom,” you sobbed, finally putting your arms around him and holding him tighter than you ever have, your nails digging into him for something to hold on to. “He’s fucking dead. My baby brother’s dead.”

“I know, I know,” he shushed. Tommy cradled you as you rambled, trying to soften your cries as he listened and felt your sentiment too close to heart. The wounds of his own little brother’s death burned in his chest, and he hated you going through it as well. “I’m sorry about your brother. Really, I am.”

Your hands tightened around him, your nails digging deeper until your eyes met your father’s, watching the both of you with a look you couldn’t identify. Your grip on Tommy loosened, and you remembered yourself—the oldest, the caretaker, the voice of reason among voices pleading reparation and revenge. You let go of him, parting with a new numbness as he watched the anger, the emotional agony, disappear into a stone cold mask you’d pulled over your face to offer your father in accompaniment of his pain.

“I need to be with my family,” you said after a moment, your voice already sore and scratchy, your words full of frail strength.

Tommy watched you walk away from him and into your father’s arms, laying your chin on his shoulder as he pulled an arm around your back and held you. You didn’t reciprocate, you couldn’t. Not right now. Aberama held onto you for strength, and Tommy felt like he could see it draining from you by the way your shoulders began to sag.

Anerama’s cold, fiery gaze bore into Tommy, one full of despair and ruthlessness. Tommy sighed, raising a finger toward him. “If you want to take on the Billy Boys, you need me alive,” he warned, looking between the both of you with a variety of thoughts flashing in his head. “Everyone fucking needs me.”

You pulled away from your father, placing your hand on his shoulders and dragging your gaze along him. He was hurt. So was Johnny Dogs. You needed to take care of them. “I’m calling an ambulance,” you said, your voice a monotone droll of duty first. “Hold on, both of you.”

You supported your father’s arm around your shoulders, pulling him into the house to get him cared for as Tommy moved to do the same with Johnny.

Flames rose high, making the air around it dance from the heat and life rising with it. Your sisters, tucked under each of your arms, clung to you as they watched their brother's wagon burn, reduced to ash and dust of a life once lived.

You swallowed the lump in your throat as you watched the fire rise and rise, sucking the tears back in as you remained strong for your grieving sisters. You turned your chin, resting it atop the youngest's head. You glanced away from the fire, and your eyes caught a much darker figure lingering further from the scene, cap pulled over his head and cigarette between his lips as he watched you.

You both watched each other for a moment, neither moving or looking away. By the time your eyes were averted, you'd already made your decision.

When the fire had not roared so wildly and your sisters' quiet sobs were gentler tears, you passed them over to one of your aunts watching the fire burn. Your father was still recovering in the hospital, too hurt to move too far from the bed but too upset to sleep as he sat in bed and watched the time that marked as his son's funeral ticked away minute by minute. With a nod, she gestured you away to take care of them for the moment while you spoke with your mysterious visitor.

Tommy Shelby stood silently where he was as you joined his side. Neither of you looked at one another, your eyes still fixated on the flames. It was silent for a while. You stuffed your hand in the pocket of your jacket and hugged it close for a comfort you felt selfish for wanting.

"They killed him."

Your voice was nearly strained as you spoke, quiet and nearly raspy with the overuse of crying—or keeping from crying—over the past week. You were still having trouble coming to terms with the fact that it had been the first week in the rest of your life without your baby brother.

Tommy cleared his throat, taking his cigarette from his lips. He rolled it between his fingers, considering a response before he gave it. "Your brother will be avenged, Y/N." He flicked it away into the grass, stomping on it with the tip of his shoe to put it out. "I promise you that."

You sighed, late to a reply as you shook your head at his promise to you. "Do what you want, Tommy." Your eyes strayed where they always had, right back to your sisters huddling to your aunt, stricken with grief. You shook your head again turning to Tommy as you swallowed thickly. "But don't make me lose any more family. My sister's stay safe, my father's life or death will be left to his hands or mine."

He turned to you, tilting his head and raising a brow. "You don't want me to keep him alive?"

You looked down at his shoes, thinking for a moment to get your thoughts in order from the messy hurricane they had been in the past week. "Before Bonnie died, I was dreamin' of a big, black bird. Then he did die, and I thought, 'This was it. It got what it wanted, now it'll leave us alone.' But when I managed to sleep that night… that bird was staring me down, much bigger and much louder than before."

You let out a shaky breath, steadying yourself before you continued. "Someone is goin' to die again, Tom." You nearly shuddered at the idea, meeting his gaze. "Don't let it be my sisters."

Tommy looked over you—your well-hidden grief of concealed red-rimmed eyes, trembling lips, messy hair. You were so good at hiding it all, he realised, well-versed in composed disposition.

But you couldn't hide all that pain from him. Reading you was like looking in a mirror.

He took a small step closer and reached down to brush your fingers with his, swiping his thumb over the back of your knuckles momentarily before letting go of you and nodding. "Your sisters will be safe. You have my word." He looked your face up and down. "No black bird will come for them."

You stared at him and blinked once. With a short nod, you looked away from the intensity of his eyes. He lingered there for a moment, your warmth mixing together for a few seconds in the cool air. Without a word, he turned to leave you.

He'd gotten a few steps away before you spoke into the air. "Tommy."

He looked back at you again, waiting expectantly for you to continue.

You swallowed hard. "Stay alive."

His eyes bore into your own, staring as he processed your words. He began walking back over to you, digging his hand in his pocket as he invaded your space. He took your hand in his big palm, setting something in your own and closing your fingers around it before you could see what it was judging the object only by the feel of it in your hand.

He turned and left, didn't spare a single word as he strayed from you.

You opened your hand and stared down at the penny he'd left you with, finding a ghost of a smile in your mind but not yet on your lips as you turned around to rejoin your sisters.

Things changed after that. With your brother gone, you realised all too suddenly how fragile this family of yours was.

Throwing yourself into work and family was the easiest part. Your kids at the school were important to you, your sisters even more so. The children kept you tender, kept you from hardening with the loss of your brother as you held on tight to your joy in life. Your sisters, impossibly dearer to you now, were cherished and loved and you made sure of you. The older of the two got married and was working on her first baby. The younger was joining you as a teacher, which meant she stayed closer to you. That made you very happy.

The hard part was separating from Tommy.

It wasn't intentional. Your late nights with him became more and more scarce as time went on. Being with Tommy, basking in the throes of passion with him during the darkest parts of the night, wrapped in his bedsheets and screaming his name, was a joy you couldn't match with anything else in your life. He was a guilty pleasure, an escape from reality that allowed you to fulfil the darkest desires within your heart that could not be found anywhere else.

You'd tried, once or twice, to push Tommy from your mind by finding another man. You were known to be Gold's prettiest daughter, there were men lining up to have a chance with you, but they were frightened off of it when Tommy Shelby had staked a claim. Now that he wasn't so dominant in your life, they had chances.

And you gave a couple of them chances—you needed someone else, someone safer. But he had his claws so deep inside of you, buried in your body and bitten into your flesh, like he had fired that bullet and left himself permanently marked in your soul.

There was no man like Thomas Shelby.

Slowly losing him was not just a physical thing, though. You hadn't realised how deeply you'd attached yourself to him until he wasn't around as much as he used to be—especially when he'd gone away to America on business. Finding excuses to see him every once in a while included your father meeting him for business and you following after, you wandering into the pub some evenings when you were feeling especially lonely (or simply just missing him) on the off chance that you just might find him there…him calling you late at night desiring you in his bed once more…

He'd called you one night.

You were just getting ready to go to bed, muscles aching and feet sore from working. Just as you were pulling the comforter from your bed, the trilling ring from the telephone screamed through the night air. You sighed, a tired moan slipping from your throat as you dragged yourself to answer.

You picked it up, a soft answer of your name through the line encouraging the person to speak. He hadn't realised how much he missed the sound of your voice until he'd heard it.

"Hello, Miss Gold," he said, his voice deeper, rougher than usual.

You held your breath and felt the sparks of delight in your chest at the sound of his voice. "Tommy…" you breathed, holding the phone closer and sinking into your chair.

"Did you miss me?" he asked. He sounded cocky. You could practically hear the smirk in his voice as he spoke to you.

You nodded gently. "I still do…" He hummed, and the sound made you shudder. Your eyes flicked to the clock on your wall. "It's the early hours of the morning for you, isn't it? The sun isn't even up yet. You should be asleep, darling."

He hummed again. "Sleep was never really my friend."

You breathed a sigh. "You sound like you just woke up… Was it a nightmare, Tom?"

He didn't answer that. Instead, he let silence linger for a moment before he sighed. "I've been thinking about you."

You licked your lips slowly. "Me, too." You smiled a little. "But I think America is a little too far for me to go just to share your bed." Your smile faltered slightly. "I'm sure you could find some other woman to fuck tonight. A man like you has got plenty of options."

You weren't hostile as you spoke. Your voice remains gentle, if not dismayed by the proposal. Tommy supposed you sounded almost jealous.

"Maybe," his voice came. You swallowed thickly. "But none of the women here seemed to know how to fuck me like you." You heard him sigh. "None of the women here come close to you."

It was oddly comforting, but not comforting enough to be rid of your unreasonable agitation that he has, in fact, been with other women there. But what else did you expect? He wasn't going to stay celibate for you.

You brushed the fabric of the hem of your nightgown between your fingers, licking your lips. "Are any of them pretty?"

"Not like you."

The way he said it, his voice so soft and deep, brushed against your heart some kind of way. You found yourself wishing you were in his bed, not moaning with your back arched, but resting with your head against his chest. You wanted to feel your skin against his, his heart under your hand, his breath on your skin.

"I wish we spent more time together, you and I," you whispered, your voice soft as the whispers of wind. "I'm sorry we fell apart. I miss you." You didn't care how desperate you probably sounded repeating yourself like that. You let your eyes close, imagining him close again.

"Don't apologise," he said. He didn't go further, he simply left it at that with the implication that you knew what the rest of his meaning was. And you did.

"I want to be there with you." But my family needs me.

"I know." And I care so much that I am willing to wait.

You wanted to kiss him. You needed to kiss him. But you were oceans apart, and there was no getting past that quite soon.

You closed your eyes, inhaling the silence. "Say something to me, darling."

He sighed gently on the other side of the lines. His voice spoke in a way that made you shudder, absorbed in the depth of his timbre.

"I think of you every night, dove… I think of your body in my hands and your lips on mine."

If it weren't for the tone of the line, it'd almost be like you were right there with him, watching him stand over you as you listened to him speak. "What else?" you muttered.

"I think of your legs around my waist and your breath in my ear," he continued. "My name on your lips…"

The slightest whimper escaped you at the sound of that. You breathed in deeply, flattening your palm to your belly. "What would you do to me if I was there with you right now?"

"Oh, I'd fuck you," he put it bluntly. He hummed, and the sound rolled in his throat. "I'd push you against the wall, lift you up, and fuck you until you couldn't stand."

The idea made you weak already. The thought of him taking you rolled in your gut and whispered at your cunt as you clenched around nothing.

"And I wouldn't stop there," he continued, controlling your body with nothing but words as you buried your hand between your thighs and rolled your hips into it. "I'd throw you to the bed and spread your pretty legs apart. I'd taste you, feast on you until you came so many times, you shook. And then I'd fuck you again."

You whispered his name, your breaking trembling.

"I'd put you on your hands and knees, and I'd fuck you into the bed until my name was the only word you knew."

Your breath caught on a moan. You rubbed your finger over your clit, massaging it as you imagined him fulfilling his words. "Would you use my mouth?" you asked breathily.

"Until you could no longer speak."

You cursed under your breath, craving his touch all the more as you fed on the filthy images he put in your head. "I need you, Tom," you whimpered, chasing a high you could not achieve well enough without him.

"I know," he husked. "Keep moaning like that for me."

You did, pleasuring yourself as well as you could. You heard a quiet grunt in his voice across the line and smiled. "Are you touching yourself, Tommy?"

He huffed a breath, listening to you whimper again. "Yeah," he groaned. "Yes, I am, love. You make it hard not to with sounds like that."

You spoke between moans. "I am, too." Obviously, he knew that, but the admission made it all the more erotic. "My hands aren't as big as yours and my fingers aren't as skilled…" You sighed gently, "But your voice is enough to get me off."

Your fingers plunged inside of you, not half as fulfilling as Tommy's as you worked at your clit. "What else would you do to me?"

The sounds of his hand pumping his cock, fast and wet, reached the phone as you listened to the slick sound behind his sighs and groans. "I'd hold you down," he said. "I'd hold you down and shove my cock so deep inside of you." He cursed under his breath as your moans became a little louder, your limbs tingling with a daunting release. "I'd make you fucking scream for me when I hold you down and fill you up."

You moaned loudly that time, so close. Just brushing the edge of pleasure. "Tommy," your voice was insistent, higher-pitched and desperate. "Fuck, Tom."

He was breathless as he listened to you. "I'd fucking breed you," he whispered. "I'd fill you up and breed you, and you would carry my child."

You muffled a rough moan before gasping for breath. "I'm gonna cum, Tom. Fuck, I'm gonna cum for you."

"Then fucking cum."

Your release hit you then, washing over you like a refreshing wave. Not half as powerful as his hands would have made it, but certainly not discontented. His name fell from your tongue again and again as you came, clutching the phone tightly in your grip and wishing it was him.

"That's it," he rasped, his breath choppy. "That's right. Say my name, love."

"Oh, Tommy," you sighed.

You listened to a dark groan rumble in his throat, your brain becoming dizzy with the sound of his panting breath as his own orgasm burst through him. Your name was the word falling from his lips, as if your hands had been the one wrapped around his cock (as you wished they had been). Your heart pounded in his chest as you listened to him cum.

Silence settled as your highs subsided and your breaths steadied. The buzz of pleasure dulled until your hazy mind was cleared enough to think straight.

You were the one to break the silence, to long for his voice so much that the comfort of the quiet was not pleasing enough to keep you from feeding your addiction.

"When are you coming back, Tommy?"

He sighed. There was a pause. "When business here is done."

"When is that?"

"Soon," he said. "Soon." He almost seemed as dismayed by the answer as you.

Your chest ached. "I miss you." That was the third time you said that, bringing far too much truth and desperation to the words as you both let it settle in.

"Just keep talking," he spoke, his voice taking on a different kind of depth as it became soft once more. "Tell me about school. How are the children?" You heard the sound of Tommy's lighter as he flicked it on for a cigarette. "Or your sisters, how are they?"

Your eyes wandered to the clock again. "But it's late, darling, and you need sleep."

"I don't need to sleep right now," he dismissed.

You rolled your eyes. "Yes, you do."

He paused, and the silence built for just a moment before he spoke again. "Why don't we flip a coin then?" You raised a brow. "Heads, and I'll go to sleep. Tails, you tell me about your sisters and the school. Deal?"

Your lips twitched in a tiny smile, and you sighed. "Okay. Flip a coin, then."

You listened to some rustling for just a moment, and then relative silence on his end. When he spoke again, he seemed to be smiling. "What is it?" you asked.

"Tails."

"Are you lying to me?"

"Yes."

You laughed, actually laughed. He called you pathetic when you were moaning underneath him, but there he was lying to keep you on the phone for the pleasure of your company. And, although he'd never admit it, he was definitely the pathetic one when he was weak at the sound of your laughter.

"Okay," you said once your laughter eased to a small giggle. "Well, my littlest sister has officially started at my school. She's teaching the year beneath me. I'm so proud of her."

Tommy sat there and listened to you talk, keeping you there for hours. Every time you suggested it had been too long, he found another excuse to keep you talking, and you complied because you couldn't think of anything you'd enjoy less than ending your call. He may have been selfish, but so were you.

Even as the morning sun was beginning to bleed through his curtains, he listened to your voice. He listened to it slow, dragging behind as the exhaustion creeped in more and more. He listened to your words becoming quieter and quieter until you no longer finished your sentences. And when your words stopped altogether, he stayed back a little while after that to listen to your gentle breaths.

Then he hung up and pushed himself to his feet. He had business to take care of.

Fire and ash and dust. That's all your family seemed good for at this point.

Aberama Gold was dead.

Your father was dead.

Granted, a lot of people died that night but fuck. You'd lost your brother, and now your father has joined him in that shithole of a death and left your sisters in your care. Again.

It had been three years of relative peace. You had thought that maybe—just maybe—he would die a normal death. Tommy had returned from America after the stock market crashed, business got bad and foes entered the arena again. Your father, naturally, went to his side. You'd begged whatever cruel gods there were that what took him would be something natural—old age or fucking illness.

To be murdered the way he was… He wasn't supposed to die that way, he wasn't. You hadn't taken care of your family as well as you had for both your brother and father to be so violently killed.

Now the flames licked at the remains of his life, engulfed in fire and likely damning his soul to hell.

You were so tired of losing people. You hoped and prayed for it to stop as you tried to sleep that night. You begged for it all to end when you met that bird in your dreams once again after three short years of silence, feeding off your grief like a vulture.

Tommy had never seen you at such a low.

He'd seen the blaring lights of your car in the front, watched them shut off through the window. He didn't know, at first, that it was you. He just assumed it was someone coming for business—despite the hour—and that he would handle it when he got to it.

But when he heard voices in the main room, voices that were very clearly not from any man and wouldn't be from his sister, he stood from his desk and went to meet it.

He found you there with Charlie, holding one of his toys and laughing when he laughed as you played with him. Tommy watched, fine at first at the way you handled him, so gentle and sweet, a natural caregiver. Charlie's enchanted by you and your sweetness.

But something was off, and he knew it. You'd just lost your father and now you were here, likely waiting for him.

"Mary," Tommy called gently. You only noticed he was standing there then as you turned your head and gave him a wide smile. Your eyes were droopy and glazed over as you slouched where you sat.

Mary arrived quickly, awaiting instruction. "Take Charlie to bed please." She did, walking up to the little boy with a smile as she took his hand. He waved at you, and you waved back.

When Charlie's gone, you stare off in the direction you left with a sigh. "Your little Charlie's so sweet, Tom," you smiled, turning to face him for a moment. You sighed and let your hands fall to your belly, "I want one of me own one day."

He hummed, walking over to you. "Until then," he leaned down and lifted you to your feet, "you need your sleep."

"No." You shook your head quickly. Your words slurred together. "No, no, I don't need to sleep." He walked with you down the hall, and you fought him (although not effectively, just insistently). "If I sleep, I dream. If I dream, I dream of a big, black bird."

You turned around and started walking the opposite way down the hall as he tried to usher you toward the stairs. He followed after you, wrapping his arms around your midsection and holding you there as his lips lingered behind your ear. "The black bird came and went."

You shook your head, leaning your head back on his shoulder and staring at the ceiling with a far off look and a smile that didn't match your grief. "He's still there, darling." You sighed shakily. "Gets bigger every night."

He stood there for a moment with his arms around your waist before dipping down to pick you up in his arms, carrying you up the stairs like a bride. "No one is dying, Miss Gold," he ensured. "Not your sisters and definitely not you."

He carried you all the way up as you turned to face him, worry in your face. "And what about you, Tommy?" You stared at him as he continued down the hall. You raised a hand to his cheek cradling it for a moment. "Are you dying?"

He stared at you, standing in the doorway of his room. He could smell the liquor on your lips, he could see the glaze in your eyes as they stare at you, unfocused. He shook his head. "No," he said. "Not today." He licked his lips and walked farther into the room, closing the door behind him. "My work isn't done yet."

You chuckled, brushing your fingers along his jawline. "The black bird comes for us all." Your smile turned sour as you stared at him before your eyes dropped to his lips.

Tommy sighed. "Not tonight." He lowered you onto the bed, grabbing the covers to try to put over you. "Now go to sleep."

You pushed the covers off you, sitting up on your knees and taking his face in your hands. "I don't want to sleep, darling."

He held his hands to your waist. "No? What do you want?"

You put it bluntly, your words sticky and attempting sultry seduction. It's harder when you're drunk.

"I want you," you moaned, kissing his lips briefly as you speak. "I want you to fuck me. Want you to pin me to the ground and shove your cock in me, sir." You leaned back on your elbows, spreading your legs for him. "Take my mind from the pain in my heart and put it on the pain in my knees."

Tommy watched you. He leaned forward and cupped the side of your neck in his palm. His dark eyes looked up and down your face, lingering on your lips as you smiled at him. He shook his head, "I'm not going to fuck you." Your smile fell, and you looked like you would cry. "Not until I know you're okay, and right now, you need sleep."

He shifted you to lay back against the pillows. You still wouldn't comply, placing a hand on his chest and keeping me back. "Don't make me sleep, Tommy." You seemed almost desperate, but the fatigue was still etched in the expression on your face, there in the depths of your eyes. "Please. I can be such a good girl if you let me."

He was unyielding, urging you back with gentle hands. "Be my good girl and lie down." He kicked his shoes off, undoing the top buttons of his shirt to pull it over his head and unfastening his belt.

"Tom," you mumbled, still refusing, even if your movements are becoming weaker by the second.

"Come on, next to me," he said gently, settling into the bed with you as he pulled you close to him.

"Thomas," you whispered.

He shook his head, "Sleep now." He pressed his lips to your forehead, trying to soothe you. You shifted and kissed his lips, moving your leg over his body to sit on top of him as you smoothed your hands on his chest. You reached down to undo the button of his pants.

Tommy wasn't having it. You wouldn't be getting your way tonight if he could help it as he grabbed your hands. He rolled you over onto your back as he now hovered above you. His hands held your own at either side of your head, keeping you pressed into the bed as he stared down at you.

Your eyes bore into his own and you held your breath as he leaned forward. You lifted your head as much as you could, wanting to meet you in the middle. His face stopped just out of your reach as he shook his head. "Sleep."

He moved off of you, laying down and pulling you onto his chest. He took your hand in his, holding it as the other one rubbed soothing into your back.

You stared at him as he eased you to sleep, and he did the same. He watched your eyelid grow too heavy for you to keep open. He listened to your breath even out. He felt your body go limp against him as finally…you fell asleep next to him.

He kissed your forehead and rested back to do the same.

Breath filled your lungs as the bite of consciousness nipped at your heels. Your eyes fluttered open and you looked around, finding yourself in a familiar place with the familiar feeling of Tommy Shelby's chest under your cheek.

And for a split second, you forget everything. You forget the death of your brother, the death of your father, the grief of your sisters and yourself. You forget it all in favour of this moment with Tommy, peaceful and undisturbed.

But then it all came back, and you were shoved back to the reality where your family was dying and you still had to hold it all together.

Your mind was clearer now, the alcohol had washed away and made the weight of it all heavier to bear. You were tired, you were miserable, and all you wanted to do was wade off into the stream and sleep.

Your breath caught in your throat and shook. The pain in your chest and in your stomach twisted, wetting your face and encouraging the tiny sob you tried so hard to keep in. You didn't want to disturb, not when he slept so peacefully next to you with an arm tucked around your body. But your cries, however quiet, roused him from his rest.

He eased up to look down at you. Shushing you softly, he pulled you in closer and placed a hand to your cheek to have you look at him. His thumb wiped your tears away as it came, smearing them on the skin of your cheeks as he placed a tender kiss to your forehead. You want to cherish it more—tenderness is not a word associated with this man—but you can only lean into it and nothing more.

You buried your head into the crook of his neck, hiding your face there. "It hurts, Tommy," you breathed.

"I know it does," he said. He stroked a hand along your head, rubbing your back. "Go back to sleep."

You shook your head. "I don't want to sleep."

He sighed, pulling you from his neck to stroke your cheeks as he looked at your face, streaked with tears he wiped away. "Maybe not, but you need to."

You shook your head, placing a hand over his chest. "I want to feel something else, Tommy," you confessed. You smoothed your hand up the length of his chest, up the side of his neck as you cradled him. "I want you. I want you to take me like you did the first time." Memories of that night flooded into you. "Be rough with me, Tommy. Be hard and mean, make me cry."

You leaned forward, pressing your lips against his as your eyes fluttered closed. He leaned into you, slotting your lips with his as the kiss sank into a depth he knew too well with you, a depth he knew he shouldn't have had with you but did anyway. You sighed at the feeling of it, and he did the same.

As the kiss broke with a tiny smack, he cradled your cheek in his large palm. He sighed, "No."

You frowned and ducked your head against his chest. "Please, Tommy," you whispered, broken and helpless.

He lifted your face again, pressing his lips to yours once more in another very slow and very soft kiss. The warm feeling washed over you and provided a comfort you find it hard to keep. "Don't worry, love," he said as he pulled away. "I'll make you cry."

He sat up, turning over so you laid on the sheets and he leaned over you, his hands on either side of your head in the pillows. "But I'm not going to hurt you," he kissed your lips, "and I'm not going to yell," your jaw, "and I'm not going to call you names," your neck. His hand stroked up your chest, and you thought he'd clasp it around your neck. Instead, he held his palm gently against the side of your neck and kissed you again. As he pulled away, he stared into your eyes, his piercing blues and little less piercing and a little more soothing. He looked at you like you were the stars.

"I'm going to make love to you."

He leaned down and kissed your neck again, tilting your head away to give him more access to press his lips against the skin of your throat. They slid down, not a trace of teeth, only lips and tongue and a kind of tenderness that made you shiver.

One of his legs, buried between your thighs, shifted up to ghost over the ache there. You bit your lip, a small mewl slipping between them at the feeling of your pleasure.

But you didn't want tenderness. You didn't want him to make love to you. You wanted him to shove you to the floor and fuck you like you weren't worth anything. You wanted him to take you over his lap and smack your arse. You wanted him to make you take his cock down your throat and keep it there until he decided it was enough.

But that was not what he did.

Tommy kissed you and kissed you. He ghosted his hands over your body and stroked your skin like you were made of glass. He slipped your clothes off of you and set them neatly to the side, doing the same to the rest of his own. He grazed his lips along your body and let his tongue adore the flesh he could reach. He tasted the sweetness of your skin. He filled your body with pleasure and intimacy and so much care.

"Relax," he whispered, his voice rumbling in his chest as he spoke. "You're alright, love. Let me take care of you."

You couldn't take it. It was too gentle, too fond, too much filling that ache inside of you that had become so permanent in your life, you'd forgotten it was ever even there. Even as you tried to press his head closer, he was gentle. Even as you moved your hips up to meet him, he was gentle. Even as you dug your nails into his skin, wanting to rile him up until he forgot his care and took you like a dog, he was gentle.

Because you needed it.

He lifted your thighs over his shoulders, settling between them as he darted his tongue out and licked a long strip up your pussy. You sighed when his lips closed around your clit and he suckled on it. His tongue licked you up in slow, soft laps, dipping between your folds and curling.

"Tommy, please," you begged, tangling your hands in his hair and tugging. The feeling was too nice, too kind. It writhed in your gut, tingled in your fingers. You needed the burn, you needed the fire. But he would only give you the warmth and closeness that made your throat tight.

His finger played at your pussy, coating him in your slick before slipping into you, a slow thrust in and out as he pushed it in deep. You watched him, whimpering pathetically and hoping your weakness will make him dangerous.

That's how it goes right? Taunt a beast with fresh blood and he'll attack?

But Tommy didn't seem to be holding the values of a beast tonight. His kind fingers filled your pussy and stroked inside of you. He licked and kissed and stroked until you began to tighten around him. His thumb pressed to your clit, rubbing slow, sure circles into it to build you higher and higher.

You were so used to his cruelty, the way he brought you to your pique with gentle hands was so foreign as you moaned. The pleasure wasn't blinding. It unfurled in your belly and then spread over the rest of your body. It loosened all the tension in your muscle and bone, it soothed your blood and lessened the crushing weight on your shoulders. You opened your legs wider, spreading yourself open for more as you keened for his touch.

"Good girl," he whispered to you, his fingers still working away. "Good, breathe." He didn't stop, even as you were coming down from your high. His fingers kept at it, his lips kissed the slick from your folds and whispered praises to you that you never thought you'd hear from him. "I'm right here. You're not alone."

"Tom," you huffed, cradling his cheek in one hand. "Thomas."

Your breaths filled your lungs, made you dizzy with him, surrounded by his scent and his touch. "I know, love," he said. "You're doing great."

His lips met your clit again. His tongue delved into your cunt and licked the wetness off of you. He kept you spread open wide for him as he painted his empathy into you.

He continued to whisper to you as he stroked your clit through to your second orgasm, watching your back arch and your chest expand and listening to your breath shudder through your weak moan. The pleasure washed over like waves on the shore of a beach.

Tommy let your legs down and kissed your belly, an open-mouthed kiss that let's his tongue graze your skin. He moved back up your body, aiming to kiss you again before stopping at your breasts. He took one of them in his hand, squeezing gently and brushing his thumb over your nipple.

Shivers rushed down your spine at the feeling, even more so when he leaned forward and took your nipple into his mouth. His tongue flicked it, hardening it to a peak as he licked the tip into your nipple. He rolled it in his mouth, playing with it in the way only he knew how, feeding off your sighs of pleasure.

When that one was hard enough, he switched to the other side, giving it the same treatment as he rolled the other between his thumb and forefinger. You brought your hands to his hair, your grasp much looser as you held onto him.

"Tommy, please kiss me," you sighed as he spent too much time away from your lips. He relented to you, roles reversed as he moved to do exactly that. His lips were warm and plump against yours, still tasting of your slick as his tongue brushed your own and he sucked gently on your bottom lip.

He pulled at you, staring with pupils wide as dimes. His knuckles grazed along your jaw. "Do you want my cock, love?" he asked.

You nodded, crossing your arms at your wrists above your head and wrapping your legs around his waist. "Yes, sir," you nearly begged. "I want it rough."

It was a last ditch effort.

But Tommy shook his head, taking your wrists and pulling them back down to kiss. "No," he said. "You're not getting it rough." He moved your arms around his neck, and you held them there.

Your frown deepened. "Please, sir."

He shook his head. "Use my name."

"Sir?"

"Use my name," he said again, his voice holding a whisper of the dominance you were used to while remaining the soft and gentle whisper you weren't. "What's my name?"

"Thomas Shelby." You were really just trying to get a rise out of him. Again, last ditch effort. Maybe he'd break and fuck you like you wanted it. So hard, you forgot everything that had been hurting you.

"What is my name?" he repeated himself. You felt like it was the last time he would.

"Tommy," you whispered, leaning forward to rest your forehead against his. He did the same, kissing your lips quickly.

"Do you want me?"

"Badly."

"Then I'll give me to you. I'm going to make love to you," he lined himself up with you, stroking the hard length of himself a couple of times. "I'm going to be gentle," he kissed your lips, "and I'm going to be slow," he pressed the head of his cock at your folds, "And I'm going to make you cry."

With one thrust of his hips, he pushed himself inside of you, splitting you on his cock and filling you with his length. A deep sigh slipped out of both of you as your eyes fluttered. He pressed himself all the way inside of you, buried to the hilt and lingered there.

"I'm going to do this because you deserve it," he continued, his voice strained with a slight grunt. His hips eased back, pulling out slowly to the tip before pushing back in. "Because you are gentle," he rolled his hips into you, "and loving," he pulled out to the tip again, "and you don't get nearly enough of it back." He filled you again, you gasped.

His body weight on top of yours was a comfort. He didn't drop all of his weight on top of you, but what he did give was a pleasant pressure on your body. You wrapped yourself as tightly around him as you could, trying to bury your face in his shoulder and being stopped when he pulled you back to look him in the eyes. He stared at you, gazed into the depths of your eyes as he continued to speak, his words a whisper and his tenderness a salve to a broken heart.

"You deserve so much," he grunted. The drag of his cock inside of you was intoxicating, and you wanted more. But he did not change. His pace was slow and steady and filled you with so much emotion, you felt you were going to burst. You were struggling to hold it all in.

"You're beautiful," he said.

You shook your head, "Stop."

"You're lovely."

You tried to turn away, he kept you looking him in the eyes. "Tommy, please."

He held your jaw, still kind, and gazed into your eyes like he was afraid you wouldn't hear him otherwise. "You're fucking perfect."

You broke into a sob, quiet but all-consuming. His hips didn't stop, he kept thrusting in long, deep strokes, grinding his hips into yours and wiping your tears. "You hear me? Eh?" he said, kissing you again. "You're fucking perfect."

His praise was too much for you. He was too nice. You were too used to nice, but kindness coming from a person like this—a man who had fucked you into the floor and called you a filthy whore, a man who had bought you with a penny and used you like a toy—it gave a kind of pleasure you couldn't quite explain as he stroked your cheeks and wiped your tears and told you that you were perfect.

"Anyone who tells you different is a fucking liar," he whispered in your ear, grinding in deep. "You're fucking beautiful and you're lovely and you're perfect. I need you to know that, I need you to know how fucking perfect you are."

You cupped his face in your hands, cherishing him as he spoke, as he thrusted into you, as he filled you with his care and praise and promise. "Do you hear me?" he asked as you closed your eyes shut, overcome by your tears. "Open your eyes and look at me. I need you to see me when I call you my fucking girl."

You whimpered, sighing with every thrust of his hips and holding him to you with your legs and arms. His breath shuddered as he pressed himself deep inside you, your bodies pressed flat together, and rolled his hips into you, stroking that deep part of you that had you gasping for breath.

"Thomas, ahh," you keen, your breath catching on a moan.

He was pressing kisses into the crook of your neck, ghosting his lips where he could reach pressed so closely to you. Your breath shook and your eyes fluttered as you focused on nothing but Tommy, being his girl, being his. You wanted it more than you wanted to admit.

One of his large hands pressed to your cheek as he turned you to look at him. "You said you wanted a baby of your own, eh? I'll put one in you right now. I'd have you growing round with my fucking child." His hips jerked once, a stuttered thrust pulling a moan from you at the idea. "The perfect mother for my child."

A broken sob pulled from your chest at his words, the thought of him having such a claim on you intoxicating you with warmth. Your heart pounded in your chest, and you still pulled him in closer as your bodies were pulled flush together.

She watched him above her, his eyes not quite as cold and piercing, his lips two kisses from swollen, and his cheeks pink with the blood rushing through his veins. His hands on your hips tightened as you met his gaze. Then he let go of you, and you missed the warmth of his palms until his finger intertwined with your own and his thumbs brushed the meat of your palms. He pulled them above your head, pulling both hands into one of his and burying his other hand between your thighs to play with your swollen clit.

"Thomas," you whispered, your voice shallow and breathy and teetering on a moan. You whispered his name again, and again, and again as you felt the pleasure building within you.

His rhythm began to falter, his hips not as steady as before as your whispers of his name beckoned him closer to his release. He cursed under his breath, his chest heavy with breath and something else.

He felt as your pussy tightened around him, squeezing and warming his already hot cock as you grew closer to that tender embrace of ecstasy. "Fuck," he muttered. "Cum for me, love. Let it all go."

And you did. Your back arched and your jaw went slack, your muscles tightened and you fluttered around his cock as you came. A loud moan rolled out of you like the tidal wave that washed over you. You stuttered out his name as you felt him bury his cock deep inside of you as he ground his hips, groaning roughly as he finally came with you.

You wrapped your legs tighter around him as he spilled inside of you, filling you with his cum and making the warmth of it all spread throughout your tired limbs. "Tommy," you whimpered, your voice caught in the pleasure. "Fuck, I love you."

It was a string of words that left your lips in a rush, a fantasy that clawed its way to the surface and revealed something you weren't quite sure you knew yourself. It took you a moment to even realise what had left your mouth, you were so drowned in the dreamlike state he put you in.

Tommy's thrusts slowed to a stop as he stared at your face, his lips parted and plump. He didn't pull out of you or say a word. He lifted a hand to your cheek and brushed his thumb over your skin. You stilled as you stared at him, your heart pounding in fear of his response.

He still didn't speak for a while, watching your face and wiping away the fallen tears streaking on your skin. He licked his lower lip.

"Say it again."

Another tear slipped as you watched him, swallowing the lump in your throat. "I'm sorry," you murmured. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to say it. It's nothing."

He lifted his chin slightly, rolling his thumb on your bottom lip before releasing it gently. "So you don't love me?"

You didn't respond. You couldn't lie to him, even if you tried. You had only just realised it yourself, only just succumbed to your rogue subconscious and blurted out a secret thought in the heat of the moment. A thought too true for you to deny as you stared at the blue eyes you had spent months—years—memorising, the plush lips your own had kissed a million times over.

"Do you love me?" he asked, his face barely an inch from yours once again. "Hm?"

You swallowed thickly, your voice was hardly a whisper. "Yes."

"Then say it again."

You sighed shakily and licked your bottom lip. "I love you…Tommy."

He closed his eyes and breath in deep, letting it out slowly and softly as he repeated the words in his head like a broken record. You waited in anticipation of his response.

He leaned forward and met your lips with his own, the kiss slow and soft and endearing, brimming with care.

"Good," he whispered back, his voice rough and quiet. "Because I love you, too. Right here, right now, without a doubt… I love you."

You brought your hands to wrap around his neck and pulled him in. He thought you were going to kiss him, but you just held him tightly against your body as you closed your eyes and cried. For the longest time, with your bodies pressed together, with his cock still snug inside of you, with your tears slipping down your cheeks and into your hairline, you cried.

He petted you, stroking his hand along your hair and holding you to him. He let you cry without interruption, without shushing you and telling you "it's okay". He let you sob against him with all the love and grief and care and anger in your heart.

And when your cries subsided and you were able to breathe again, he rolled onto his side and brought you with him as he kissed you again, just as tender and loving as the ones before.

You laid your head on your chest, sniffling gently as your finger smoothed along his skin. "Do you really love me?" you asked quietly.

He nodded, thinking on the way holding you right then made him feel, the nostalgic feeling that filled his homes at the reminder of a love he'd once held in the past, one that still haunts him to this day and only eased with the idea of you. "Yes."

You nodded gently. "You ever been in love before?"

He was a little more hesitant this time, but he still nodded once more as his hand stroked your shoulder. "Yes." He glanced down at you, "Have you?"

You shook your head, "Not like this…" He didn't reply, and you swallowed thickly. "Do you…" You let out a tiny breath. "Do you think I'm going to have a baby now?"

He looked at you and grinned, a look that made you warm. "Hopefully," he chuckled. He leaned back again and closed his eyes, "Gives me an excuse to put a ring on your finger."

You sat up and looked at him, surprise written across your face. "A ring? Already?"

He opened his clear eyes again, still smiling. "I've already decided I'm not letting anyone else have you. So, yes, already." He leaned forward, meeting you halfway in another kiss. "I'm marrying you, love."

You smiled slowly, letting it grow and grow and grow until your cheeks hurt and then after. Glancing away from his face, you let out a tiny chuckle. You eased your way out of the bed, out of his embrace, and went to his coat where you fished a coin from his pockets.

Slipping back into bed next to him, you fiddled with the coin between your fingers. "I'll flip you for it," you smiled. "Heads–"

He took the coin from your hand. "Heads, you marry me. Tails, I marry you. Either way, we're getting married, we're having that baby, and you're stuck with me forever." He tossed the coin away so it landed somewhere on the floor where you couldn't see it with a loud drawl.

You bit your bottom lip, failing to contain a beautiful smile. You nodded, "Okay." You kissed his lips, grinning still as you just kept nodding. "Okay."

"Good," he said, holding you close again and stroking your side. "You're mine, Mrs. Shelby."

You couldn't hold in the chuckle that slipped from your lips. "Well," you sighed happily. "A deal's a deal."

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cillianmesoftlyyy · 5 months

Text

In Love, in War Pt. 3 | Thomas Shelby x Reader

Summary | She (the reader) comes from a wealthy family in Birmingham, England and he (Thomas Shelby) comes from a family of no-good troublemakers in Small Heath. Their worlds finally collide when Thomas lands himself in the triage tent of a nearby hospital camp during the battle of the Somme with a neck wound. Past traumas and heavy-handed words open old wounds, and yet, they always find their way back to Birmingham.

Warnings | Death, Smut, Oral Sex, Penetration (P in V), Unprotected sex, Crying, and Fluff.

Age of Consent- New Order 🎶

I Wanna Be Adored- The Stone Roses 🎵

Moonglow- Billie Holiday 🎶

Word count: 2438k

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!

She heard that he was scheduled for discharge the next afternoon, so she asked for an assignment in the infirmary and offered to remove Thomas’ stitches when she was placed on the rotation. He was smoking when she approached him.

“Hello, nurse.” He mused and closed his eyes. “So this is it, is it?”

“I’m afraid so, Shelby.” She played along and blushed when she saw him smile.

“Then do your worst.” He put the cigarette back between his teeth and turned his head so that she could see the stitches clearly.

“You’ve healed well. The scarring should be minimal.”

“That’s a miracle considering I had a horrible nurse. I was better off bleeding out.” He opened his eyes so that he could wink. She smiled and cleaned the stitches before cutting the thread straight across with gentle snips.

“Sorry.” She apologized as she worked. He winced and exhaled with gritted teeth.

“Looks like that nurse is back.” He cracked a joke through the pain.

“Watch what you say, Shelby. I’m still the one with scissors here.” She teased. He quieted down as she removed the thread from the healing wound. She wrapped a thin layer of gauze around his neck and smoothed it out with her thumb.

“Ah, there’s that nice nurse I know.”

“Mmm,” she hummed. “You’re in a good mood.”

“Not for long.” He quieted, his voice sombering slightly.

“Why?” She stepped back.

“I’m going back tomorrow. They want to return me to my original unit before they move.” He swallowed.

“Oh,” she deflated. “I’m sorry.”

“I’ll get to see my brothers again. I’ll be alright.” He cleared his throat and took her hand discreetly. “Visit me tonight, outside. I’ll be here waiting for you.” He whispered.

“What?” She looked around to see if anyone was listening.

“Meet me tonight. I leave tomorrow afternoon… I need to see you one last time before I leave for old time’s sake.”

“Old-time’s sake?” She let herself laugh.

“Because of Birmingham. Because you may be the last beautiful woman I see before they pitch me over the side of a mud bank.” He squeezed her hand with a flirtatious smile, though his eyes were sad.

“Alright.” She nodded finally and stepped away.

She left her shift that evening and made her way back to her tent. She removed her cap and apron and wrapped a shawl around her shoulders. When the sounds of battle quieted, she slipped out of her tent, leaving the sleeping bodies behind, and scurried to the back of the infirmary tent. And as he promised, he was there. His hands were shoved into his deep pockets and he kicked the loose dirt around him. He turned as he heard her approach and met her with a crooked smile.

“You came.”

“I had to do it for old time’s sake.” She whispered with a smile.

“Come on, I have a spot for us to go.” He took her hand and slid it gently into the front pocket of his pants, their fingers intertwined.

She followed him to the edge of base where the mess tent was erected.

“What are we doing here?” She laughed quietly.

“You’ll see.” He hushed her and pulled her through the dark tent into the smaller tent where the head cook slept. A gaslamp was burning in the corner beside a men’s magazine. “I gave him my last box of cigarettes for some time alone in here.”

“Alone… in here?” She stuttered slightly. He laughed and shook his head.

“Nothing like that, princess. I wanted to be away from the infirmary for a little while and here, we don’t have to worry about other people.”

She didn’t completely believe him but she hummed in understanding and stepped closer. Thomas watched her and raised an eyebrow.

“Now, princess. I clearly remember making a promise not to touch you just the other night.” He teased.

“We both said a lot of things we didn’t mean.” She whispered back and ran a hand through his hair, shaved on either side like a gangster.

“Do you dance?” He took her hands from his head and placed one around his neck.

“I may, if I’m asked nicely.” She shrugged.

“Mmm, then may I have the pleasure of this dance?” He murmured near her cold lips.

“You may.” She let him slip his hand around her waist and pull her ever so slightly closer to him. He guided her into a slow wavering dance, like two flames fighting on one wick. “Shelby,” she whispered against his neck, “there isn’t any music.”

“Eh? I could swear I heard it in my head. Come closer, maybe you’ll hear it.” He smiled and lowered his head to rest against hers.

She rubbed her cheek against his and listened to the muffled heartbeats between their two chests. He spun her and she laughed quietly, spinning back into place against his warm chest. She kissed him abruptly and he moaned quietly against her lips.

“What are you doing, Princess?” Thomas pulled away and pressed his index finger against her mouth.

“My duty, Shelby, for the crown and my country. For Birmingham.” She whispered and blinked rapidly.

“Yeh?” He smirked with a raised eyebrow. “For this Small Heath boy?”

“It’s the least I can do.” She shrugged playfully.

“Don’t go making jokes, nurse.”

“I’m not, Shelby. Like you said last night, you’re the first Birmingham boy I’ve seen in months, and I hope you’re the last. I don’t want to see another while I’m here. Stay alive.” She kissed him again and this time, he let her. She explored his mouth with her tongue, slipping it in and out, tasting and taunting. He kissed her deeply and wrapped his arms around her and pulled her up so that she was standing on the balls of her feet. She kicked off her shoes as she removed the shawl from around her neck and laid it on the cot, then she slid the suspenders off of Thomas’ shoulders.

“Are you sure, princess?” He paused, glancing down at the fallen suspenders.

“Yes, Shelby.” She smiled and moved his hands to the front of her uniform. “Undress me.” She whispered patiently and helped him undo the first button at the bottom of her neck. He blinked and nodded, undoing the fabric buttons down to her waist. He pulled the shirtwaist up and set it gently to the side, covering the men’s magazine. The top of her shift showed without the blouse and her nipples puckered beneath the cotton fabric like knots.

“Now my skirt.” She moved his hands to the small of her waist and helped him undo the clasp that connected either side of the skirt. It slid down her legs and she stepped out of it. It was moved to the side. She was in her shift and black stockings, her hair loose down her back.

“Can I undress you?” She asked Thomas and he nodded. She pulled his shirt over his head and put it beside her’s. He slipped off his slippers from the infirmary before she unbuttoned the front of his trousers and pulled them down to his feet. He looked down at her in his open-legged boxers, showing the smooth pale skin on his thighs. He kissed her as she pulled him down with her onto the cook’s cot. He undid the bow holding her slip together at the bust and exhaled when he saw her breasts. He held the back of her head as he kissed her and moaned when she undid the buttons at the top of his boxers. His penis was hard when she removed him from his underwear. She pushed his chest up into a sitting position and leaned over his lap, taking him in her mouth. She circled her tongue around the soft head and pushed his length deep into her throat, humming. Thomas gasped softly as he watched her take him on.

“Not as prude as I thought you were, nurse.” He sighed and looked up at the ceiling, closing his eyes.

“No?” She pulled her mouth off his cock with a soft pop, a string of saliva trailing from her tongue.

“Fuck.” He lost his train of thought and bucked his hips involuntarily. She smiled and kissed him, pulling his head down to hers. She pulled him all the way down to where she could lie flat on her back and stroked his cock with her free hand. He paused once again to look at her.

“Eh, have you done this before?” He furrowed his brow, concerned. She looked back, blinking away the momentary sadness from her eyes, ignoring the image of Francis in the blue of Thomas’ eyes.

“Yes.” She whispered, her voice nearly silent. He stared at her for a moment, connecting the dots in his head and nodded. He kissed her gently and slipped his hands below the skirt of her shift. He pushed the fabric up, exposing her sex and bare thighs. He pressed himself between her thighs, his hand running over the thick black stockings on her right leg.

“Are you wet?” He asked between kisses.

“See for yourself, Shelby.” She mumbled and felt him smile softly against her lips when he easily slipped a finger inside her.

“Fucking hell.” He sighed and aligned himself against her hips. She held his throat lightly with her hand and touched his nose to hers. When he entered her, she inhaled tightly.

“Breathe.” He reminded her. She exhaled and whimpered as he moved. His hips crushed hers into the mesh cot below. He was long and filled her up, hitting the back of her cervix with each thrust. She gasped as he thrusted, slow and deep, where the sensations were magnified.

“Fuck!” He gasped, bucking his hips as she moaned. “I fucking needed this, jesus christ.” He fucked her harder and she moaned into the hot skin of his neck.

“Oh god, Thomas.” She cried into him and panted. He looked down as he pushed in and out of her, and groaned in pleasure. “Fuck this is so much better than I remember,” she admitted and dug her nails into his back.

“That’s it, nurse.” He smiled and fucked her harder, her breasts shook between them from the movement and he licked the hot, pink flesh around the buds. “You have beautiful fucking tits.” He suckled at the nipple and she moaned louder. “Do it in my ear, love. I can’t hear you.” He shifted his weight onto his forearms on either side of her face and rested his head on her shoulder. She turned so that her mouth was against his ear. She gasped and whined as Thomas fucked her.

“Are you going to come, nurse?” He asked raspily and she nodded eagerly against him.

“God, Shelby. Do you even have to ask?” She whined in his ear and felt her thighs squeeze around his hips. “God, this is so good-”

“Fuck, that’s it.” He gasped as she squeezed around his swollen penis. “You’re cunt is perfect, so fucking perfect.” He grabbed her thigh and threw her leg over his shoulder, pushing himself back up. With her leg over his shoulder, he fucked her harder and deeper than he had before and she nearly screamed in pleasure and stimulation. One of her hands flew to the edge of the cot and the other clamped over her mouth to stifle the noise. The cot squeaked erotically beneath them.

“You look so beautiful like this.” He smirked and trailed a finger down her thigh. A tear fell from her eye and she moaned loudly, spasming and cumming. He moaned and slowed his thrusts as he reached his climax too. He pulled out before he could cum and spat his hot semen into the tent’s dirt floor, rubbing his cock with his hand to finish himself off. He panted and she draped herself against him.

“Do all Small Heath boys fuck like that?” She asked haltingly.

“I don’t know, I haven’t had any.” He smiled at his own joke. She hit him playfully and hugged him around his arms, flattening them against his body. He moved her arms and shifted so that he could hold her in his arms.

“That was fucking amazing.” He whispered in her ear and she laughed.

“Francis never made me feel like that.” She remembered and he stifled a snort.

“I would prefer to say nothing on that subject.” He said instead and she pretended to bite his cheek. “I’m fucking exhausted now.” He sighed against her and she drew her finger in zigzags across his jaw.

“Can I sleep with you tonight?” She asked. He looked down at her and played with her breast with his large hand.

“I’d like that, nurse.”

She shifted below him and buried her body into the space between his arms. Thomas laid on his back, his arms around her shoulders. She looked up at his face, cast in soft orange light from the lamp, and watched as a tear slipped down his cheek.

“Why are you crying?” She wiped the tears away. He looked down at her, words escaping him.

“I lost someone too, nurse, just like your Francis. She died from consumption… just weeks before I shipped out.” He stared up at the ceiling.

“And you loved her.” She added gently.

“Yeh, I think I did.” He smiled painfully and she held him closer.

“Then why are you crying, Thomas?”

“Because this was the first time I'd thought of her in a while. I’ve managed to forget until now, but you remind me of her.” He couldn’t meet her eyes, emotion weighed heavy in his throat and he swallowed it down. She shifted her head on his pale chest and traced a muscle in his stomach with her index finger.

“What was her name?”

He took a deep breath, willing himself to say the name that he hadn’t been able to say in months. “Greta.” He nodded as he said her name slowly. He turned onto his side and held her jaw in his right hand, his thumb brushing the hollow of her cheek.

“All these things that we’ve lost and still life goes on.” She whispered and prodded his lips with her fingers, feeling the plushness of his skin beneath her fingertips. She said nothing but wrapped his arms around her again and pulled her against his chest. He put his chin against the top of her head and closed his eyes. It was too warm to wear their clothes to bed, so they slept in their underwear and woke at dawn.

...................

End of pt. 3 :)

#cillian murphy x reader #cillian x fem!reader #smut #cillian murphy #cillian x y/n #thomas shelby #tommy shelby #peaky blinders #peaky blinder fanfic #fanfic #female reader #fluff

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