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[zablife]

[Image ID: A flow chart with two branches. The starting point reads "does this character have problems." One branch leads to "yes" then "make them worse," while the other branch leads to "no" then "give them some." End ID.]

[zablife]

@little-diable Chi, your ideas always blow my mind, but this one has to be one of your most brilliant. The personification of death as a beautiful, free spirited lover caked in earth she will bury him in is genius! Esp bc in canon we so often see Tommy wishing for the sweet release of death. In this fic you've granted him that as death comes to take him so gently, allowing him to die with honor. There's a kindness to it that resonated with me. Tysm for sharing your vision!

Because the rain keeps falling – Tommy Shelby (smut)

This story is very dear to me, I don't know why, but it feels awfully personal. Please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading this, your comments keep us writers motivated! Enjoy my loves. xxx

Summary: It's April 23rd, time for (y/n)'s yearly visit. But this year it'll be the last visit, giving the two of them one last chance to search the love they foster for one another.

Warnings: 18+, smut, piv, melancholic vibe, I don’t want to give too much away lol

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x fem!reader (1.6k words)

He had his eyes focused on his documents, rereading the typed lines for the fifth time that night. Tommy’s head was hurting, pounding as if he had forced two bottles of liquor down his system only hours ago. Not even the smell of his cigarettes managed to distract him from the uneasiness clinging to him. 

A sigh clawed through Tommy as he placed his glasses down to let his head roll back. His eyes fluttered close, inhaling and exhaling a few deep breaths like he had been taught years ago, swallowed by darkness whenever he had to move beneath the ground. 

“Evening, Tommy.” His eyes shot open, body thrown into a fight or flight reaction as the unfamiliar voice wrapped itself around him. A voice so unfamiliar, it instantly snapped into place as his eyes found her piercing ones. She was leaning against the doorframe, arms wrapped in front of his chest, lips pulled into the breathtaking smile he hadn’t seen in exactly twelve months. 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t want to frighten you, how impolite of me to just barge in.” Her dark boots met the ground, covered in mud and soil. Slowly she moved towards Tomy, only to plop down in the chair placed in front of his desk. “Can I?” 

“Of course, here.” He reached a cigarette out for (y/n) to take, rising to his feet to light it for her. His bright eyes didn’t stray from hers once, watching her every move to try and figure out what her next words would sound like. 

“It’s April the 23rd.” (Y/n)’s words left a pregnant pause, silent seconds Tommy used to study her, the dirty fingers that were covered in the same soil as her boots, the holes in her trousers that exposed parts of her legs, and the knitted sweater she had worn the last time he had seen her. And yet she was as breathtakingly beautiful as she always had been.

“I must have forgotten. I’m sorry, how foolish of me, eh?” A laugh rumbled through Tommy, a sound that managed to grow her smile, paired with a soft shake of her head. Smoke kept leaving her nostrils, wrapping (y/n) in a blue cloud that only made her eyes appear more dangerous, adding that twinkle he’d see late at night when his thoughts start to wander. 

“Forgotten? I highly doubt that, Mister Shelby.” (Y/n) stubbed out her cigarette before she rose to her feet, rounding his desk to plop down on the expensive wood. She cupped his cheek with her fingers, letting him inhale her scent, the mixture of rain, soil, and incense. His eyes fluttered close as she stroked his lips with her thumb, smiling down at the man who seemed to instantly relax at her touch. 

“This is the last time we can do this, Tommy. He is focused on me lately, I can’t risk anything, for both our sakes.” His low hum left her chuckling, a sound that turned into a laugh as Tommy pulled her into his lap without a warning, lips finding (y/n)'s before a reply could claw its way through Tommy. 

Their lips moved in sync, hands finding one another’s body to search the closeness both had been aching for since her last visit. Her cold fingers undid the buttons of his vest, desperate to expose his body to her wandering eyes, a sight she had longed for. Tommy was just as impatient, momentarily breaking from the kiss to tug her sweater over her head. 

“You’re the most beautiful sight I’ll ever be fortunate enough to marvel at.” He mumbled the words against her lips, letting his hands move up her naked upper body, cupping her breasts. (Y/n) arched herself into his touch, while grinding her core against his hardening cock, desperate to feel him beneath her. 

“You were always good with words, weren’t you?” Her teasing words were stuck in her throat as Tommy rose to his feet, holding onto (y/n) before plopping her down on his desk. Tommy towered over her as if he was the one guiding her every movement, the guiding hand she’d reach for in the depth of the night, the last Hallelujah rolling off her tongue. 

“If tonight is all I have left of you, I want to taste you, remember you for as long as I’ll get the chance to.” He pulled her torn trousers down her legs, letting his warm mouth find her aching cunt without another spoken word leaving him. (Y/n) choked on his name, letting her dirty fingers tug on his hair as Tommy brushed his tongue through her slit. 

“Fuck, I almost forgot how good you’re at this.” Breathy chuckles left her as Tommy ate her out, pushing her closer towards the edge within seconds. Two of his fingers were pushed into her tightness, spreading her walls as his tongue kept brushing against her pulsing bundle, high on her taste. (Y/n) was everything his body was aching for, longing for her the second she left his side, promising to return the next year, and the following, all up until this very day. 

“I need you inside of me, fuck me, please.” Their eyes met, his full of love and lust, hers full of longing and sadness. Slowly, Tommy pulled away, only to free his twitching cock from his dark suit trousers. He reached for her throat to tug her closer, lips finding hers again while he pushed into her tightness, groaning at the feeling of her wrapped around him. 

For a moment, neither of them dared to move, clinging to one another like lost ships sailing through uneasy waters, knowing they could only trust one another. Tommy held her as if she was the treasure keeping his heart safe, locked away from all the pain he had to face; (y/n) held him as if he was the soul she had been searching for all this time. 

Only slowly did he begin to move, fucking her on the table like a lover would fuck his significant other beneath a starry sky, fuelled by unspoken promises. Their bodies searched one another’s closeness, letting her walls flutter around his cock, wordlessly begging him to add more speed to his thrusts. 

Even though both wanted to drag out this moment, knowing that it was the last time they could hold on like this, their bodies were desperate for their highs. Soon enough, they would cum in unison, letting go of one another’s name like a prayer spoken in a moment of need and loss. A moment of loss they’d soon enough live through, letting their hands drop as their eyes met for the last time.

“It’s an old story, a story I never believed in. But now I do,” her whispers rang in his ears as he pressed his lips to her throat, sucking on her cold skin to try and leave his mark on her body. “I love you, Tommy Shelby.”

His eyes met hers, momentarily allowing his pace to falter to wipe away the one single tear managing to leave her sad eyes. He kissed her to distract her from her pain, a distraction she needed to give in, to choke on his name as her high wrecked through her. Tommy kept fucking (y/n), searching his own release with his lips still pressed against hers. 

Their bodies stayed connected as he came, imprinting himself on her walls as if this could change the outcome of this very situation. It was a foolish thought, a thought both clung to as he pulled away, careful not to hurt her. 

No words were spoken as they redressed, not daring to let their gazes meet while doing so. Only as Tommy sat down in his chair, reaching for another cigarette to let a few deep exhales pass his lips, did they dare to lift their eyes. She cupped his cheek with sorrow swimming in her pupils. 

“What will happen? Will you come and pick me up?” It was nothing but a whisper, and yet his words sounded like screams to her, burning through her body. (Y/n) matched the deep exhales leaving him, leaning back against his desk to properly study him. He had aged since the first time they had met, deep beneath the ground, and yet he looked even more handsome than all those years ago. 

“I will. Can you promise me not to make it any harder on us?” (Y/n) took his cigarette from his lips to take a drag herself, staring down at Tommy as he nodded his head. It had been their deal for years, adding another year to the list while he promised that when the day would come, he wouldn’t fight it. “Good. There is only so much parting from you I can endure, all I ask of you is to make this last voyage bearable for us both.” 

“Dying with you by my side will be an honour, (y/n).” With one last kiss pressed to his lips, (y/n) left his office. Her dirty fingers reached into her pocket, pulling out the old, leather-bound booklet to cross out Tommy’s name like she had done for the past years, only to add it to another page. Another year she granted him to live, one last year to be on this earth before she’d guide him towards the cemetery, to dig out his grave with her hands buried in soil, and her boots stuck in the muddy ground.

Because the rain keeps falling whenever she guides another soul away from this word. 

[zablife]

@cillmequick I love the mini temper tantrum over their assignment 🤭 However, methinks the lady doth protest too much! (Actually both of them) You can't tell me they aren't loving every min of this fake marriage assignment!

AND they only have one bed 😂 This is going to be so good! There's no way that doesn't come into play later with the constant PDA and bickering flirting (Don't let us down, Alex!)

I'm also squealing over the discovery that the villain is Luca! For some reason I'd convinced myself it was Tommy. However, I'm even more worried for your agents now 😱 I know it isn't very nice of me to bet against our heroes, but, let's be honest, their track record doesn't exactly inspire confidence. I can't wait to find out how things go when they attempt to break into Luca's room 😬

River Cartwright x Hattie Larkin (oc)

And just like that I have another series on my hands 😂 If you missed the posts yesterday - this is going to be a Slow Horses / Peaky Blinders crossover fic so strap in as I squish my two worlds together 🤭 I’d love to know what you think - remember comments (and reblogs!) are love 🤍

Summary: Faced with the morning after the night before, things are strained between Hattie and River. How will they cope when a new assignment forces them to spend time together?

Warnings: None really except for bad language and probably inaccurate depictions of espionage - I’m not a spook guys 😂 (or am I?! 😉). Slight spoiler about why River is in Slough House but that’s literally the opening sequence of s1-ep1 so not really a biggie.

Word count: 4414 PART 1 | SERIES

Part 2: The Waterfords

Pulling herself from slumber was a slow and reluctant process. She was so warm and cosy, wrapped as she was in the duvet and…

Her eyes snapped open.

What the actual fuck was that solid mass pressed against her back??

With a jolt of horror she tried to wriggle away from the warmth behind her, only to find she was pinned against it, a heavy arm draped across her middle.

Oh holy fucking shit…

The night before came flooding back, crashing over her like a cold bucket of water.

“Cartwright?!” she hissed, finally succeeding in removing his arm and scooting away from him, clutching the bedclothes to her chest.

Oh god, she was still naked.

River woke up with a start at her wriggling, squinting against the morning light filtering around her curtains.

“Mm-wha..?” he mumbled thickly, running a hand over his hair, the action sending the duvet sliding towards his waist.

Oh fuck, he was still naked too.

“What are you doing?” she hissed and he properly woke up, blue eyes finally focussing on her furious face, his frustratingly handsome features covered in confusion.

“Oh, I don’t know, sleeping?”

“No, you idiot! Why are you still here??”

“I was sleeping,” he said again and her scowl deepened.

“But why haven’t you left yet??”

He squinted at her like she might have hit her head.

“Larkin, I don’t really know how else to explain to you that I was sleeping. What part of that aren’t you getting?”

She sat up, pulling the covers with her so violently he had to quickly grab them to keep some for himself.

“Fucking hell, Cartwright - last night was a mistake. You know that, I know that. So why haven’t you fucked off in the middle of the night like a normal fucking person—” River slowly raised an eyebrow at her but she ignored it, “—so we can both pretend it never fucking happened and get on with our lives?!”

He sighed, struggling to sit up against the headboard, covers pooling in his lap.

“Why does it have to be like that though..? I thought—”

“Oh well now we really are fucked. River Cartwright has had a thought.”

He scowled and fidgeted with his hair again, only serving to make it even messier, sandy blonde strands sticking up every which way.

“You know, you’re the one who started it. And you’re the one who asked me to stay.”

“Yeah.. well..” she fumbled, feeling her face turn red. “I also said it was a really fucking stupid idea.”

Flames of mortification licked across her skin, burning away any latent desire that the sight of his pale, broad chest, dusted with darker hair, might have inspired.

“Hattie…c’mon” he said quietly, reaching towards her.

She hit him with a pillow and he yelped, holding up his hands in defence. “No! Don’t you Hattie me - get out! It’s already…” She scrabbled for her phone on the nightstand and groaned when she saw how late they were. “Fuck, it’s already after eight. You need to go right now ‘cause you can’t fucking go into work in yesterday’s clothes - you’ll give us both away.”

“Fine,” he sighed heavily, throwing back the covers, giving her an eyeful.

“Jesus River!”

He fumbled for his underwear, pulling them on, the elastic snapping at his hips.

“Yeah, that’s what you were saying last night.”

“Fuck you,” she snapped, a fresh wave of embarrassment flowing through her. Did he really have to look that good naked? Was there no justice in the world??

He disappeared into her living room, returning fully clothed a moment later.

“I’ll see you at work.”

As he disappeared again, she scrambled out of bed, grabbing her dressing gown and knotting it tightly at her waist.

“If you tell anyone about this…” she called after him as he stopped at the front door to pull on his boots.

“Why would I? Do you really think I want everyone knowing that I went home with you?” She pulled up short and he drew himself up to his full height, several inches taller than her, looking down with a dark expression. “Yeah, nice feeling isn’t it?”

“River..”

“Save it. I’ll see you at work. Your shameful secret is safe with me.” He stopped halfway out the door. “You’ll get there first so you better cover for me with Lamb.”

The door rattled in its frame as he slammed it behind him, the heavy thump of his footsteps disappearing down the stairs.

Hattie leaned against the wall and banged the back of her head against it a few times.

“Fuck,” she muttered, finally pushing herself into action and heading for the bathroom.

*****

Six weeks later

Thumping sounded from the ceiling above their office and they both sighed.

“It’s your turn,” muttered River, and even without looking up he could feel her sour expression.

With a huffy sigh, Hattie dragged herself from her desk, stumping her way up the stairs to Lamb’s office.

“You thumped, my liege?” she drawled, loitering in the doorway.

Jackson Lamb, surrounded in a fog of smoke, sat reclined in his chair with his feet on the desk. One of his toes was poking through a hole in his desperately threadbare socks.

If it wasn’t an almost daily sight, she might have been inclined to lose her recently consumed lunch.

“Where’s the other one?”

Hattie frowned. “Which one?” There were five other people in the office, apart from her and Cartwright. Not including Catherine because Lamb would never lump her in with the rest of them.

“Who do you think?”

“…Cartwright?”

“Clever fucking girl.”

“He’s downstairs.” She stared at him for a moment.

“Well go and fucking get him then!”

With a mutinous scowl she left the room and leaned over the bannister.

“DANUBE!”

She smirked as she heard the scraping of his chair against the wooden floor of their office and a second later his blonde head poked around the door.

“Boss wants you.”

Wearily he climbed the stairs towards her. “You know, that’s getting really tiresome now?”

She grinned widely. “But yet I have so many more rivers of the world to try.”

He deliberately bumped her shoulder as he passed on his way into Lamb’s office, knocking her slightly off balance and she shoved him back, sending them both shambling into the room.

“Are you two toddlers quite fucking finished? Fuck me, no wonder you two didn’t last five minutes as proper fucking spies.”

Drawing themselves up in poses of slightly embarrassed contrition they both assumed serious expressions.

“Sorry,” mumbled Hattie.

“She started it,” added River, earning a glare from beside him and sharp look from his boss.

“Shaddup the pair of you,” ordered Lamb, pulling his feet off the table to sit properly, shuffling a set of non-descript brown folders in front of him.

“Now, not that either of you delinquents deserve it but I’ve got a job for you—”

“A real one?” interrupted River and Lamb just stared heavily at him, sucking on his dwindling cigarette. “Sorry,” he muttered, shuffling his feet.

“Apparently the Park is having a flu epidemic or some shit, and they’re short-staffed. Which is the only reason you two are being allowed within a hundred miles of an active operation.” He looked squarely at Hattie. “After last time it’s a wonder you still have fucking jobs at all.”

He held out one of the files and Hattie swiped it before River could, quickly flicking it open and scanning the first page. River hovered at her shoulder, reading, the warmth of him bleeding through her shirt.

“We’re doing surveillance? Really??”

God, he was like an excitable puppy sometimes, she thought, rolling her eyes as she kept reading down the page.

“I’m fucked if I know why they would want the bloke who can’t tell the difference between colours and the girl who stabs people instead of keeping a low profile, but here we are. Not so much bottom of the barrel but the fucking thing is well and truly empty.”

“So here it is,” he continued, lighting a fresh smoke. “There is absolutely no contact to be made. The target’s taking his mistress to Devon but it’s a front—”

“Wait what? We’re doing surveillance in Devon??”

“Cartwright if you don’t stop interrupting me you’ll be going fucking nowhere!”

Hattie sniggered but stopped abruptly at the expression on Lamb’s face.

“You’re to keep tabs on him for three days and report your findings to some real spies who will do the proper fucking work. And you will be so fucking discrete that God himself wouldn’t see you, do you understand?”

They nodded quietly.

He lifted two other files and checked the tabs before swapping them, leaning to handing them over. “Because it’s a public place, you need proper legends - details are all in there.” He pulled them back as they reached to take them. “You will not lose these or get yourselves blown. Costs a fucking fortunate to create this shit - far more than either of you are worth.”

He proffered the files again and they took one each.

“Wait what??” exclaimed Hattie as she read the opening section of her cover persona. “No, absolutely fucking not.”

“I’m sorry, did this look like a negotiation to you, Larkin?”

“But we have to pretend to be married!”

“Yeah well, I can understand your reticence,” agreed Lamb, scratching his bristly chin. “I wouldn’t want to be hitched to a cunt like him either.”

River opened his mouth to retaliate when Jackson’s phone rang.

“Go on, fuck off the pair of you,” he ordered, reaching for the receiver. “Oh, and Larkin,” he added and she turned, halfway to the door. “You fucking stab anyone this time and that’s it? End of. Alright?”

She felt River start to giggle beside her and pushed past, stomping back down to their office.

“You know, did it occur to you that maybe I don’t want to pretend to be married to you either??” he grumbled as he shut the door.

She threw him a look as she slumped behind her desk. “Right, yeah, that’s believable.”

“Wow….”

Ignoring him, she leafed through the details, not really taking anything in. “I don’t understand why he picked you and me though.”

“Min’s tied up on that other thing with Louisa, he hasn’t even learned Marcus’s name yet. I mean, would you rather he sent Ho??”

She shuddered. “But why does it have to be one of you lot? Shirley could come with me. Thought we were supposed to be a modern Service these days.”

River laughed, dropping his own file on the desk.

“Shirley, really? What if you get in a tight spot, like last time?”

“Please, she’s ten times tougher than you. And she’d be quicker to help and probably wouldn’t immediately get herself punched in the face, leaving me no choice but to stab someone.”

“So it’s my fault that you killed Kalugin??”

“I mean, that’s what I told Duffy and Lady Di,” she grinned.

“F’fucks sake,” he muttered, glaring moodily at the papers in front of him.

“Oooohh… language, Tiber.”

His head snapped up, finding her grinning wickedly at him. “Larkin, I swear to god…”

“Hey now, that’s no way to speak to your wife,” she beamed, turning her attention back to her file.

He watched as she chewed the end of her pen, eyes down, scanning the page. Fucking hell, this was going to be a long three days.

*****

The car journey from London to the Devon coast was possibly the longest thing Hattie had ever endured. Although they had settled into a certain rhythm of slightly awkward, passive aggressive normality at work, being in a confined space with him for the better part of five hours was a completely different matter. He was too close, she could smell his aftershave, the soft spiciness bringing back memories she had been trying to forget.

Like having her face pressed against his neck, breathing him in, as he fucked her over the edge, every deep stroke sending her spiraling.

Her thighs squeezed together unconsciously and she cleared her throat, hoping he hadn’t noticed.

To break the tension she suggested they quiz each other on their cover stories - newlyweds, Robin and Glenn Waterford. Hattie couldn’t help but feel that someone at the Park had a dodgy sense of humour when they came up with their aliases. River had whinged for at least half a day about being forced to be called Glenn, until she pointed out that it might not actually be worse than his real name and he had retreated to silent seething instead.

“How did we meet?” she asked as he overtook a slow moving tractor on a country lane, finally off the motorways and heading towards the coast.

“At a wedding - I was a friend of the groom, you worked with the bride.”

“And they are called..?”

“Vic and Mike.”

She nodded and he tapped the steering wheel thoughtfully.

“But how did we get from meeting at a wedding to getting together?” he asked.

She glanced at him, his eyes trained on the road. The shiny silver band on his forth finger catching the light.

“Day after the wedding, there was a very hungover lunch and a walk where I stupidly rolled my ankle and you took care of me.”

“Damn right I did. Because I’m a fucking gent like that,” he chuckled, shooting her a quick smile, the corners of his eyes crinkling in a way that made something swoop in her stomach.

She fiddled with the (very fake) diamond rings on her finger, the feeling of them still weighing strangely.

“How much of this sort of stuff have you done?”

“What, surveillance, or undercover?”

“Either.”

He shrugged, slowing behind a cyclist out enjoying the warm weather. “A bit. I mean, I’d done a fair few ops like this before…”

“Before you crashed Stansted and were exiled in disgrace?”

He pulled a face at her, darting around the cyclist. “It was—”

“A training exercise, I know, I’m only kidding you on. It’s not like I’m not languishing in disgrace with you.”

He flicked a quick glance her way, seeing her brushing back her dark hair with a hint of embarrassment.

“Are you ever going to tell me why you’re in Slough House?”

She looked at him, lips in a tight line. “River, you’re a spy. If you want to know, you’ll have to figure it out for yourself.” Turning slightly more towards him, she tried to contain a grin. “Or maybe you’re just not as good a spook as you think you are.”

“Better than you,” he scoffed.

“Well when you figure it out, you can let me know.”

He followed the satnav and turned onto another road, the sea suddenly twinkling on the horizon.

“Oh how pretty,” she smiled. “I haven’t been down this way for years.”

“Me neither.”

“We used to come here all the time when I was kid. Well, here and Cornwall.” She rolled down the window, in the hopes of letting the summer air tinged with salt drift into the car, only to be hit with a heavy waft of cow manure from the fields they were passing.

“Oh fuck! Shut that before we pass out!” he laughed, pinching his nose as she hurriedly pressed the button to close it again.

“Don’t be such a baby, it’s just the countryside.”

“Yeah, well, unlike your country bumpkin self, I grew up in London. And the countryside can keep it.”

“Yes, because the capital is often so fragrant. I do love the smell of piss on the breeze in the morning.”

He threw her a look and she met it by sticking out her tongue.

“Mature.”

“I am. Shame about you.”

“Hatts…” he muttered warningly.

“No, no. We’re almost there, so I think you should call me Robin from now on. Get in the groove with it…. Glenn.”

He didn’t have to look sideways to feel her grin.

“Ok, when we get there we have to set up and be ready for Changretta arriving. He’s being tailed to the hotel so if anything happens before he gets here we’ll know about it, but the Park thinks it’s unlikely.” She checked her notes. “And then he’s got dinner in the hotel at eight fifteen so we have a reservation for eight o’clock.”

“Do we have any more intel on whether it’s just him and her, or are they expecting guests?”

She shook her head. “No, nothing. Table is booked for two but I guess we need to be ready for anything.”

*****

Twenty minutes later, River pulled the car off the road that ran along the sweeping bay, crunching over gravel in front of the beautiful old stone building, frontage weathered by years of bracing sea air.

“Fuck… this place must cost a bomb…” muttered Hattie, looking up at the tall Georgian windows in quiet wonder. “Expect people like you, stay in places like this all the time?”

“What’s that supposed to mean? People like me?”

She shrugged as he pulled into an empty space.

“Oh come off it, River, with your grandad do you really expect me to believe your family wasn’t loaded? I bet you weren’t freezing your arse off camping or in a caravan.”

He bristled slightly. “Think what you like but we weren’t. My mum… well she lives a different kind of lifestyle.” Cutting the engine, he twisted to look at her. “Anyway, game time. You ready?”

She blew out a breath and nodded, wishing the nerves in her stomach would fuck off.

Climbing out of the car, she stretched her stiff limbs, taking the opportunity to get a surreptitious look at their surroundings. Only one way in and out of the guest car park but there would be access at the rear for deliveries and the like. And only five other cars - all much fancier than River’s - currently in the car park but it was still early.

River joined her, toting their small cases, smiling warmly.

“What do you think?”

“It’s amazing,” she beamed back, trying to take her case but he shook his head, gesturing for her to go on ahead.

The grand old foyer was immaculate, large displays of fresh flowers giving off a soft scent as they passed.

“Checking in?” asked the young man at reception.

“Yes, Waterford,” replied Hattie, River standing close beside her. She almost jumped as a large warm hand settled on her hip, gently pulling her back against him.

There was a certain amount of keyboard tapping before the man looked up again.

“Ah yes, Mr and Mrs Waterford–”

“Still getting used to hearing that,” grinned River and she forced a giggle, feeling him press a kiss against her temple.

The receptionist smiled. “We have you with us for three nights and we’re delighted to offer you a complimentary upgrade to our honeymoon suite.”

Hattie couldn’t stop her eyebrows shooting skyward. She’d just assumed that the Service would have arranged for them to have separate adjoining rooms or something - not actually having to pretend to be married even behind closed doors.

“That’s amazing, isn’t it darling?” prompted River, squeezing her hip.

“Yes! Wow, thank you, that’s so kind,” she enthused, pulling herself together.

“And your parcels arrived earlier and have been left in your room, along with some gifts from us to congratulate you on your marriage,” the young man smiled, pushing a piece of paper towards River. “If I could just have your signature, Mr Waterford, and we’ll need a credit card for incidentals.”

As River let go of her, fishing around in his pocket for his cards, Hattie looked around the ornately decorated space. A huge sweeping staircase led to above, and she could see doors to the bar and restaurant beyond, and another corridor that led towards the spa. There were plenty of cosy nooks and groups of invitingly squashy sofas and armchairs, some clustered around fireplaces that screamed winter comfort. It was beautiful, but was going to be a nightmare to track Changretta through and follow their instructions to be entirely inconspicuous. He’d clearly chosen the location with care.

“Alright, that’s all gone through, here’s your key.” He handed a small key on a heavy brass fob to Hattie. The old fashioned affectation would make it a lot easier for them to pick the locks at least. “The lifts are just around to the left behind the staircase. Do you require any help with your luggage?”

They declined and set off for the lifts, dragging a case each.

Objectively, the honeymoon suite was ridiculously beautiful - enormous bay windows housed a little seating area that overlooked the sea, which was glittering in the late afternoon sunlight. And if she’d been here on an actual holiday - or actual honeymoon - she’d have been beyond thrilled.

As it was, however, she was less than thrilled to be trapped in a single room, with only one (albeit, huge) bed, with the colleague she was working very hard to pretend she’d never had sex with.

“You need to cool it with the PDA, Cartwright,” she grumbled as soon as they were safely behind closed doors.

“We’re supposed to be fucking newlyweds, we have to act like it.”

“Yeah well, unless you want my trusty letter-opener in your guts you’ll keep your hands to yourself.”

He rolled his eyes and started opening the discretely packaged equipment that had been sent for them by the Park. Once Changretta arrived and they knew what room he was in, they would have to break in and install listening devices so they could keep tabs on him.

“How could they not give us separate rooms?” Hattie continued complaining as he methodically separated the tiny devices for planting, from the things they would need to keep in their room. “Or twin beds at the very least! Do they really expect me to share a bed with you??”

He sighed heavily, biting his tongue, as she walked around, inspecting a small sofa in the window.

“You can sleep on this.”

“No fucking way! You’re shorter than me - you can sleep on it if you’re going to be such a princess about sharing a bed.”

She sucked in a breath, hands on her hips. “No way! I thought you were, and I quote, ‘a fucking gent like that’??”

He straightened, pushing a hand through his hair. “Glenn might be, but I’m not throwing my back out just because you’re having a hissy fit. It’s a massive fucking bed, there’s plenty of room for both of us to be able to pretend the other person isn’t even there.”

She balled her fists. “Fine! But given how handsy you’re feeling, we’re putting pillows down the middle.”

“For fuck’s sake, Larkin! I was trying to be a fucking professional and be in character. You could at least meet me halfway!”

“Oh for crying out—”

“Ssshhh!” River waved his hands at her to shut up.

“Don’t you tell me—”

She shut her mouth as an audible creek emanated from just outside their door.

“Oh fuck.. I swear to god if we’ve been made before this has even started…” she groaned quietly as footsteps disappeared.

Sticking his head round the door, he checked the hallway.

“It was just housekeeping,” he said as he shut the door again. “But we should be more careful. No more yelling.”

“I wasn’t the one yelling,” she mumbled and he shot her a glare. “God, I was kidding, River.”

“Just come and help me with this stuff, yeah? We need to get sorted so we can go and loiter downstairs.”

*****

To their immense frustration, Luca Changretta didn’t turn up until almost seven o’clock. At risk of being obviously loitering near reception, they had to take it in turns to roam the hotel, the other perched carefully by the window of their room, which afforded a helpful view over the main entrance.

I think he’s here

The text from Cartwright flashed up on her phone and she put down the book she wasn’t reading and finished the coffee she’d been nursing for forty-five minutes, grimacing at the cold dregs. Pretending to check her phone she saw a tall, dark haired, handsome man striding across reception, with a small, brunette at his side. Her dark cat-like stare roved the room and Hattie quickly had to avert her gaze.

Call me, she texted back and her phone began to vibrate.

“What’s wrong?”

“Hi mum,” Hattie smiled cheerily, seeing the woman with Chagretta glancing her way. “Yeah we got here fine, it’s gorgeous.” Boredom filled the woman’s pretty face and her gaze slid past Hattie, ignoring her again.

“Is there something wrong? Did he make you?”

“No, no, the journey was grand.”

“Larkin..”

“How’s grandad? Have you been to see him today?”

“You what??”

Catching Changretta’s eye as he turned towards her voice she made sympathetic noises into the phone, twisting away slightly, seeing him go back to focusing on the receptionist in one of the many mirrors. In her ear, River kept asking inane questions.

“Ssshh, I’m trying to listen,” she hissed as quietly as she could, covering it with a louder, “Oh well, that’s good news at least.”

“You’re in the Harbour Suite, Mr Sarratore,” smiled the same receptionist who had checked them in earlier. “The lifts are just behind the staircase. Do you need any help with your luggage?”

“I’d better go mum, Glenn’s waiting for me. Give my love to dad,” Hattie said, as Changretta began to head towards the lifts, hanging up before River could reply.

“He’s in the Harbour Suite under the name Sarratore,” she announced as she shut the door of their room. “It’s only two doors down from here so we should get clear reception from the bugs.”

“You could have texted what you were doing,” River grumbled from his spot, reclining on the bed.

“There wasn’t time, his little woman friend was looking.”

“So much for being discrete.”

She shrugged, toeing off her trainers. “We’re staying in the same hotel, they’re bound to run into us.” She paused, eyeing him. “I see you picked a side of the bed.”

He sighed. “Let me guess, this is your side, right?”

She shook her head, opening the wardrobe, flicking through the stuff she’d brought, trying to pick an outfit for that evening. “No, you already know I sleep on the other.” She pulled out a dark green dress. “What do you think? Would Robin wear this to dinner?”

Forgive me but I couldn’t help myself a little ‘but there was only one bed!’ action 🤭 I’d love to know your thoughts and your engagement is fuel to my fire ♥️ xx

☕️ Enjoyed this story? Why not buy me a coffee - Ko-Fi

Masterlists: SLOW HORSES | SERIES | MAIN

Tag list: @noforkingclue , @annaelizabethhenry1 , @watchtowerindistress , @emotionalcadaver , @zablife

@kmc1989 , @shopgirl6us (unable to tag), @randomnerdyfan , @bouncydragon , @anberb11 (unable to tag), @myalignmentischaoticdumbass (unable to tag) , @r0ckstardr3amgal , @donotnomi

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If you would like to be added to the tag list just let me know.

[zablife]

@cillmequick So I still haven't watched the show, but I'm fairly certain there's a new blorbo on my horizon thanks to your brilliant new series 🤭 I'm all caught up and ready to discuss!

I'm already loving the dynamic between Hattie and River 😍 I'll admit it wasn't what I originally anticipated based on the hurt/comfort of ch 1. The passion of that encounter was lovely, but I'm absolutely living for the playful enemies to lovers vibe they have atm. I could listen to their banter all day!

And I love the moodboard you created to accompany the series! You've described everything beautifully, but I still like having a representation of what you see in your mind. Thanks for sharing!

Masterlist: Slow Horses / Peaky Blinders Crossover

River Cartwright x Hattie Larkin (oc)

Summary

Hattie Larkin is a Slow Horse, an MI5 fuck up exiled to the place they call Slough House, because even though it’s still in London, it might as well be in Slough. Sharing an office with River Cartwright, the poster boy of spook failure, she thinks her life can’t get any worse.

Except it can. Of course it can. And as if it wasn’t bad enough that she’s accidentally killed a high ranking criminal with connections to a certain Birmingham based crime family, she’s only gone and fucked River Cartwright too.

Fuck.

Warnings

This story will contain blood, violence and a lot of smutty stuff. All chapters have their own warnings section so please engage as you are comfortable - your reading choices are your responsibility. Chapters marked with 🔞 contain adult themes. Respectfully, minors DNI.

Story

Part 1: Distraction Techniques 🔞

Part 2: The Waterfords

Part 3: Coming soon

Moodboards & Other Bits

Hattie and River in Devon

Credits

🔍 Dividers by the talented @/firefly-graphics

🔍 Obviously none of the characters from either show belong to me but the rest of the story does and I do not give permission for it to be copied, reposted elsewhere or used for AI training without my consent.

[zablife]

[zablife]

@look-at-the-soul Tysm, Mar! It's true that dark!Tommy is quite possessive with very few limits. Taking control over Y/n's life was no exception. I'm glad you enjoyed my twisted little tale! It seems to be what people are requesting most often these days, but I'm not complaining 😈

Lee! Hope you're doing well 💋 so I so your prompt for the requests and if you're feeling inspired with this what about?

- ❛ I’ve killed for you. Who else can say that? ❜

with Tommy?

The Debt

Warning: Dark!Tommy 💀, mention of gun, blood, murder, trauma

You bit your hand to keep from screaming as the man in the long, black overcoat pushed you inside your small bedsit. The door slammed behind you as you stumbled toward the window, pushing the lace curtains aside with trembling fingertips. The remnants of blood were still there on the cobblestones beside the alley, though it was quickly being washed away in the driving rain.

Your memories of the violence carried out in your name would not be erased so easily. The bile rose in your throat as you thought of each shot striking its target, blood gushing over the pavement and splattering onto your shoes. You looked down to see the evidence of the stains that had ruined your new boots, an odd sensation washing over you as though you were staring at someone else's feet rather than your own.

"Come away from the window, love," a low voice rumbled across the room like thunder.

Your body shuddered involuntarily at the noise, a hand gripping the window ledge to keep upright. Feet uncooperative as your mind, you attempted to reply, but found yourself unable to dislodge the words from your brain. You shook your head fiercely, but the cotton headed feeling wouldn't budge.

The man scoffed at your disobedience, removing his coat to wrap around your shoulders protectively. He clamped a large hand over your shoulder, guiding you toward the little table in the corner. As he handed over a flask, he instructed, "Sit down and have some of this. It'll steady your nerves."

Suddenly you heard yourself stutter, "I...d-d-don't drink."

"Alright, tea then," he conceded. "Where do you keep it?" He leaned over you, eyebrow raised in question until your finger pointed in the direction of a far cupboard.

As he turned away, his gun came into view and your heart began to hammer at your ribcage until you thought you might faint. Pressing your fingers to your temples, you closed your eyes and attempted deep breaths. Eventually you pushed them out in labored waves, though your body was quickly wracked by sobs.

"Hey, hey...there's no need for tears," you heard the deep voice begin to soothe as you felt a warm cup being pressed into your palms.

Looking up through watery eyes, you sniffed, "Who are you? What do you want?"

Taking a seat opposite you, the man's crystalline blue eyes locked onto yours intently as he introduced himself as Tommy Shelby. "You don't know who I am?"

"No," you admitted. "I've only just arrived this week."

Tommy rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "That's what I thought. You'd never have taken that short cut if you'd known the sorts of bastards lurking."

A draft blowing through the crack in the windowsill crept across the back of your neck at that moment, triggering a phantom feeling of icy fingers upon your throat and you startled losing your grip on the china.

Tommy caught the cup before it landed on the floor, hissing as the hot liquid scalded his hands.

"I'm sorry, I felt his hands..." you mumbled, fingers tracing the delicate skin where the man from the alley had grabbed you.

"You've had a shock," Tommy stated, cleaning himself off with a rag. "But you needn't worry any longer. You're under my protection now." He stood with a determined nod, gathering his cap and placing it on his head.

For the first time that evening your shoulders relaxed and you breathed a sigh of relief. With a bit of effort, you banished the terrifying images of what you'd seen and tried to find good in the intimidating man before you. You even began convincing yourself it was fate that brought him to look after you in your new city.

However, as you stood to remove Mr. Shelby's coat, he casually announced, “You can bring it tomorrow when you see me about repaying your debt.” Then he proffered a business card.

You stared up at his chiseled face, partially covered in shadow. Unable to tell if he were serious. "I don't understand,” you admitted with a puzzled look.

Clicking his tongue disapprovingly, he pulled on a pair of black leather gloves. “So forgetful all of a sudden, aren't we," he scolded.

Your throat went dry, constricting painfully when you tried to swallow. "What do you mean?"

The leather cracked menacingly as he reached out to caress the apple of your cheek with the back of his hand. "I've killed for you. Who else can say that?" he reminded you in a voice far too flat and calm to offer affection.

Your eyes went wide as you searched his darkening pupils, panic shooting down your spine as you thought of what awaited you at the address printed on the card. The bit of paper shook violently in your hand as his thumb grazed your lips, leaving a powerful promise in his wake. "I've done something for you, now it's your turn."

When you bristled beneath his touch, he leaned toward your ear, a hiss escaping on his whisky scented breath. "I could return you to that alley if you like, but I think you'll find this arrangement far better." He turned without giving you a chance to protest. There was no need for once you owed a debt to Tommy Shelby, he owned you for life.

---------------

Tag List:

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[zablife]

[zablife]

[zablife]

[zablife]

I made this short two gif set because of ..reasons. 😅

[zablife]

@brummiereader Brummie, I'm so delighted to see you return to us!! Your writing is even more brilliant than ever ✨

That opening with Johnny Dogs had me squealing with delight bc you've captured him so perfectly! I can envision him looking about Arrow House in awe and sampling whisky at 8 in the morning simply bc he can!! 🤭 Sadly there isn't enough content for him and anytime he's mentioned in a fic, I hang on every word. This was no exception as you left me wanting so much more of his entertaining antics.

However, I must admit I was eager to know what news he brought of the governess 👀 I knew Tommy would have someone out searching for information about her! And Johnny certainly delivered tho we didn't learn of her indiscretions with other families until much later in the chapter. (I knew that little hussy had tried this routine before 😡)

She's even more wicked than I originally thought! The scene with Frances shook me to my core as she whispers into William's ear about his mummy falling ill. I shudder to think what she's capable of doing to Mrs. Shelby if she broke the housekeeper's wrist without a second thought 😱 And I'm dying to know what Billy knows!!! Does it have something to do with the rat poison she stole from the shop where Esme works?? Is this how she intends to make William's mum sick?? You're killing me, dear Brummie!!!

It speaks to your skill as a writer that you managed to divert my attention with the rekindled romance between Mr. and Mrs. Shelby. I simply adored the juxtaposition of the before and after party scenes, reinforcing the care they so badly needed, esp Y/n. The gentle reassurance Tommy shows his wife was everything! He absolutely worships her as they reunite and I could not love that more 😍

Did you have to steal our happiness so soon with the presence of the governess tho? 😫 That shit was unnerving 😵‍💫 I want Tommy to wake up and catch her staring at his lovely wife. He would put an end to her so fast! Is this his plan? I honestly don't know what to expect!

Based on the length of this comment I'm sure you can tell I'm highly invested in this fic (possibly to an embarrassing degree 🤭), but I don't care who knows it! You're so talented, I'm going to shout it from the rooftops. Anyone who hasn't read this series needs to get on board NOW!! I have a feeling the ending is going to be the most spectacular CRASH!! 💥 I can't wait 😜

MASTERLIST PART FOUR

Unchained Melody (Part Five)

Summary: On the path to mending your fragile marriage, you and Tommy can't bear to stay more than a few moments away from each other. In more ways than one. But as joy and laughter returns to the halls of Arrow House during an evening of ball gowns and tuxedos. The Governess, left scorned and bitter, makes the final arrangements for her deadly plan of revenge.

Warnings: Language, smut (Minors DNI), fluff, postpartum depression, violence, one racial slur, angst

Word count: 5340

Authors note: Thank you for everyone's patience as I took some time away from Tumblr. It's been a while since I have written anything, so I'm a little rusty. Anyway, I hope you enjoy this chapter!

"Tea, Mr...Dogs?" Frances asked, unsure of how to address the burly built man striding though the doors of Arrow House as he removed his green tweed cap from his head. His informal manner never ceasing to stop the head housekeeper from entering a dizzying muddle as she clutched to keep things as one would expect in the grand house she managed.

" Touch of whisky Frances. That'll be grand" he replied, stamping his mud-crusted boots onto the freshly polished floors that had recently been cleaned for the event set to take place that evening as he looked down at his pocket watch. Eight in the morning. Never too early to fire up the old lungs with one of Tommy's finest whiskys. He thought to himself as he looped his thumbs under his suspenders, taking in the grand foyer and all its fineries. He could get accustomed to this.

"Johnny boy!" Tommy greeted loudly to his old friend as he walked down the grand staircase. The smile on his face a pleasant change from the solemn frown that had become customary as of late.

"Nice digs you got 'ere Tom. Any spare rooms going, ey?" He replied with a hearty laugh, shaking your husband's hand with a firm pat on his arm.

" Not enough for your brood, and the dozen you've got scattered across the county, Johnny" Tommy replied with a chuckle, his sudden turn in mood a stark difference from the one he had replaced for the past two years. His humor further set on improving with what he hoped was next to come out of his trusted friend's mouth.

" In good spirits ey, Tommy?" Johnny replied as you made your way down the staircase with William hitched on your waist, babbling a nursery rhyme as he enthusiastically bounced up and down in your arms.

" Something like that..." Tommy's voice trailed off as he turned to face you, adoration and pride beaming lovingly through his eyes at the sight of you both together. Reunited, finally.

As in love as the day he laid eyes on you, Tommy watched as you slowly descended down each step. Recounting the night, you stayed curled up beside him watching the fire he had lit in the living room of your grand home settle into charred blackness as you both fell asleep soundly within each other's arms after having come to blows over what desperately needed to be said.

"...will be made better with what you've got to tell me" he quietly replied, not wanting you to overhear, nor have your settled worries be bogged down once again.

" A cousin up in Scotland" Johnny spoke in a hushed voice as he sent William a wave and a wink your way.

" That's it?" Tommy replied with a furrowed brow, hoping for more information on the woman that had caused nothing but turbulence since her employment, and a shame your husband wanted to be rid of.

" There's been talk, Tom. In the women's wash house", Johnny added, placing a cigarette tightly between his lips, puffing the fumes through the corner of his mouth.

" Gossip Johnny. I need something better than what tattling old women have to say" Tommy replied, taking the pack of cigarettes and lighting his own as he watched the morning rays of sun glisten on your glossy smile, completely unaware of the goings-on and the vicious nature of the woman hired to care for your child.

" Kin to every man in Birmingham. Nothing gets past them, Tom. I'd stake my life on those old women's whispers" he spoke quietly, before turning his back to you and revealing what the nattering of the town had to say about the Governess in a hushed voice as you opened the dining room door and a triumphant smile grew on your husband's lips.

" Now that is interesting, Johnny. Very interesting"

With your mind still plagued with worry, you couldn't help but let the guilt of your lapse in parenting weigh down your thoughts as you sat opposite young William at the large dining table and back in your rightful seat as you awaited your husband. As your hands hovered nervously over your lips, you watched intently as your son took each mouthful of toast, your eyes darting back and forth to the fading red blotches that covered his skin.

" William?" You gasped, your eyes widening as your hand flew across the table to him when a small cough left his buttery mouth.

" He's fine darling" Tommy said as he entered the room, just as you was ready to bolt up and scoop him into your arms to the nearest doctor. " Forgets to chew. Don't you son?" Tommy smiled as his heavy hand brushed along your back, coming to settle on your shoulder.

" Yes..." You replied with a shaky voice looking back at your son, unconvinced of his well-being as your face twisted in worry.

" Hey, look at me Y/N" Tommy said, resting his thumb on your chin, gently turning your head to face him. "He's ok, darling. I promise" He said with raised brows, softly brushing the warmth of your cheek with his calloused hand. Wanting you to be rid of any lingering doubt.

" He's ok" you repeated your husband's comforting words as you settled your hand over his, bringing it down to the table where Tommy quickly intertwined his fingers into yours and you stayed there undisturbed, enjoying the closeness the morning of just the three of you alone brought. That was until the headache that came in the form of a scorned, spiteful woman with her own menacing agenda charged through the dining room.

" Get out" Tommy quickly snapped with a huff. Swiftly laying out the rules of the home he should have done long before your return.

Begrudgingly tolerant of the woman who had thrown a spanner into the sensitivity of his business contacts, his patience had all but evaporated with the learnt information Johnny had shared with him that morning. But with Tommy now holding the upper hand, her wager was in dire jeopardy. The Governesses time left at Arrow House had rapidly descended into hours, if not minutes.

" I need Gerry to take me in the car" she said as she stood at the end of the table, her talons clicking impatiently on the mahogany wood.

" No" Tommy flatly stated as he lifted a cigarette to his mouth, mumbling incoherently his own choice words for her to leave under his breath as he lit a match.

" Tom" you quietly said as you rested your hand on his knee, cooling the rapidly burning fury within him, you knew was dangerously close to boiling over.

For even after her blatant disrespect towards you and the relationship you were trying to rebuild with your family. The last thing you wanted was for your young child's impressionable mind to see his father's anger slip out in front of him over a woman you knew full well was purposely trying to infuriate not only your husband, but you yourself, who had taken back your position she felt now belonged to her. Keep calm and carry on. The British way. And in this situation, the only warranted reaction.

" Taking my family into the city this morning. So..." He shrugged as he glared at her. "Walk" Tommy brushed her off, your intimate touch enough to catch him off guard and stop him from giving her the marching orders she was long overdue right then and there. In turn, sparing you from the outburst he knew she'd unleash and the encounters they had, she would undoubtedly reveal just to hinder your mending heart.

" Perfect. I'm heading that way too" her mouth curled into a smile as her eyes narrowed in on your husband.

" That's fine. Right, Tommy? " you said, squeezing your husband's thigh as your eyes darted to William intently watching his father's changing expression in response to her refusal to keep her distance, and the constant reminder of his lack of loyalty, even in your absence her presence brought.

" Right" Tommy replied clearing his throat, more preoccupied by the feeling of your hand resting soothingly on his leg. Wanting to feel closer to you. Patiently waiting for the moment you would approach him.

A family outing into town with a fourth wheel in tow. The quicker she was gone, the better. Tommy would no longer stand around with such niceties. She would be gone by the end of the day. Kicking and screaming, then so be it. But she'd be gone. He'd promised himself.

" Mr Shelby! Mr Shelby!" The young kitchen aid called out, catching up to Tommy as you headed out the door with William toddling beside you.

" What is it Billy?" Tommy replied with a furrowed brow as he placed his peak cap on his head, motioning for you and William to walk ahead to the Bentley waiting outside.

" I...I need to speak with you" he stammered out, unaccustomed to speaking directly to the head of the house he worked in.

Fair and just. Tommy had never given any member of his staff a reason to fear him. But with the worried glances over his shoulder and his fumbling demeanor, the kitchen boy had not only Tommy's full attention but nagging curiosity as to what had him looking so nervous.

" Billy?" Tommy questioned, his hand firmly resting on his shoulder as he patiently waited for him to speak when the young man's eyes shot across the foyer to the Governess striding through. Her piercing glare enough for him to recoil and quickly apologise for having stopped your husband.

"N..nothing. Sorry to have bothered you sir" he said timidly stepping away as Tommy's head snapped back to the sound of the Governesses heels loudly echoing past him.

" Me, my wife or Frances. No matter the issue Billy, you come to one of us" Tommy said as he watched young Billy's eyes follow the Governess outside. " Understood? Billy?" He added, as the kitchen aid nodded before quickly returning back to the long days' work that awaited him in preparation for the gala of investors Tommy had planned for that evening.

There was no doubt in Tommy's mind that what young Billy had to say was halted by the presence of the Governess. Although determined to get to the bottom of what had occurred. For now his attention lay with you, his family. And the much-needed time he was desperate to spend with you. Just the three of you. At last.

After a short car ride into the city, with the Governess glaring at you with every second that passed, her eyes green with envy as she watched Tommy's thumb brush soothingly over your hand. You were relieved to finally pull up onto Watery Lane, and escape the tension her formidable stare had created.

"I don't think so" Tommy said with a smirk, his hand grasped firmly on the handle of the door to the betting shop, blocking the Governesses unwelcome attempts to follow you and William into the soot-covered terrace house and into the welcome arms of the Shelby family awaiting you. " Times up, love. Pack your bags and be gone by tonight" he said with a look of disgust, dismissing any further conversation with the woman he began to loathe.

" You're forgetting Tommy, that..." She began to seethe, thinking she still had the ultimate ace in her pack of cleverly played cards, before your husband swiftly stopped her in her tracks.

"That what, eh?" Tommy laughed, belittling any superiority she felt she still held over the situation. " You're not as clever as you think you are, sweetheart" Tommy said lighting a cigarette, blowing the fumes in her scorned face as annoyance settled on her perfectly primed brows.

" Been working your way around the whole country, haven't you? Thought you struck gold when you came knocking at my door. Guess you didn't expect my wife to come back though, eh?" Tommy said grabbing her chin, only a mere portion of the information he had learnt from Johnny briefly slipping through his gritted teeth as the Governesses face dropped at her scheming ways being unveiled.

" You'll regret this, Tommy Shelby. You and your precious wife" she spat back as Tommy's grip tightened.

" Get the fuck out of my house. And if you don't, I'll throw you out myself" Tommy snapped as his fingers dug against the bone of her jaw. "Believe me darling, nothing is beneath me. Even when dealing with the fairer sex" he warned her as he pushed her chin away from him out into the cobbled streets in front of his childhood home. Her blatant threats aimed at you enough for Tommy's questionable moral compass to slip even further. If he was going to kill a woman, it would be her. " Stay away from my wife and child" he warned her as he slammed the betting shop door in her face, leaving her fuming with a boiling rage the residents of Watery Lane precariously stayed clear of as they made their way back to their homes.

" What?!" She snapped as two young children hurried past her. Their eyes quickly averting to anything but the reddened-faced woman now marching down the muddied streets in the direction of where her new intentions now lied.

" Still 'ere then?" Esme asked, arms crossed, nose scrunched as she leaned against the shelf the Governess was scanning in the small convenience shop on the corner of the main street of Small Heath. " My John says Tommy's given you your marching orders" Esme said cracking a smile, her and everyone else in the Shelby family having never warmed to the woman that was intent on replacing you in every way.

" With child again, Esme?" the Governess scoffed as she looked down her nose past her hazel features to the swell of her stomach. " Don't your lot ever stop? What's this one? Third, fourth? I can't keep up " she laughed as she returned to the shelf, and it's curious contents.

" My lot. What's that supposed to mean, Gover-ness?" Esme was quick to respond, pushing her way between the shelf and the woman who was hellbent on insulting anyone who bore the name Shelby. Her disdain for the head of the family firmly at the forefront of her thoughts every waking hour of the day.

" There's that famous anger. Gypsies. You're all the same" she insulted, pushing past the blossoming bump and picking up a glass bottle neatly labeled "Rodent Poison", its killing substance, cyanide. Her swift concealment of her intended purchase going unnoticed by Esme, whose face had twisted in offense at the Governesses insulting, cruel words.

" So prim, so proper" your sister-in-law scoffed, as she looked at the neatly dressed woman from head to toe. "But I've heard talk. I know exactly what you are, how low you'll stoop. Governess to the upper class. Now running from a string of angry wives you wanted to replace and the affairs you had with their men" Esme smirked as she watched the Governesses quick wit falter, and her expression change to one of anger at her intentions further being exposed. " Your lot. Homewreckers. Filth" Esme spat with contempt as the Governess stood back, tightly holding the bottle against her body.

" Just this, Mr Higgs" the tall women said as she turned away from the braided beauty, placing the deadly bottle of household poison on the counter and paying. " Goodbye Esme" she smirked, before opening the rickety wooden door, the chime of the bell hovering above it announcing her departure and another step closer she was to playing her next lethal hand.

As the household staff hurried from room to room later that day, finishing off the last of their duties before the guests arrived. You kept yourself busy with worry with what the many invitees would have to say about your sudden reappearance at Arrow house as you prepared yourself for the dreaded evening.

" I can't do this...fuck. I can't do this" you mumbled under your breath as you shook your dressing gown off in front of the large standing mirror in your bedroom.

Stood there behind the dressing screen, your hand traced down your stomach over the faded scars that had turned opaque in the many months that had rolled by. A reminder of the home you kept your son safe, warm within the swell of your stomach. But imperfect, scarred.

Why won't they leave? You sobbed rubbing your flesh red, yearning for the body you had once, the one that captivated your husband's adoration. The one he wouldn't go a day without kissing every inch of. Was he no longer in love with you that way? Was that why he hadn't gotten closer to you? Kissed you? Your mind nattered to you as you turned to pull the sequin gown from its hanger, throwing it on the chair beside you when the door opened and your husband quietly walked in.

"Tommy, is that you?" You called out as you slipped your feet into your laced lingerie.

"Guests are arriving Y/N" he replied as he slowly walked towards the large wooden cabinet, pulling out a set of gold cufflinks. His initials intricately engraved into each one.

" Shit, I'm sorry. Can you help me, with the zip?" You asked, before quickly scrambling for the dress you had launched to the side in your flustered state. " No! Wait! Just...just hold on a second" you all but shouted, quickly pulling the dress over your knees before your husband saw your exposed body.

Coming to a sudden stop, Tommy waited behind the floral painted screen of Gardenias and Ferns, unable to stop his wandering eyes and loose footing from being captured by the soft amber lighting bouncing off the curve of your hip partially covered by the screen. Watching it slowly sway from side to side as you pulled the dress over your body.

Never had he felt so much desire, so much longing to hold you as he silently watched you glide the glittering gown up the edges of your body. The little he could see taking his already labored breath away from him within seconds.

"Y/N, darling?" Tommy said clearing his throat as he stepped back, recomposing himself and the collar of his shirt tightening around the pulsing vein in his neck.

"Ok, you can come" you said as Tommy cocked a brow, a small smile of amusement flashing across his face at your choice of words. Unbeknownst to you how true your statement was close to becoming a reality for him.

" I can't reach, can you just..." You said, gesturing behind your back as your smartly suited husband stood behind you, brushing his thumb down the middle of your back until the small zipper resting over the white lace of your underwear.

" You ok?" Tommy asked, swallowing heavy. Unsure if he was asking himself the very same question as he slowly pulled your dress together.

" Nervous" you smiled timidly to him in the mirror as you smoothed down the front of your gown, your face quickly twisting in uncertainty at your choice of dress.

" I won't leave your side" Tommy said turning you around as your hands came up to straighten his limp tie. " Not once " he said tucking the loose whispers of hair behind your jeweled ordained ears, his body slowly closing the small gap between you both.

" Promise?" You replied lifting your gaze to his hooded eyes staring down at you as you inched closer.

"Promise" he answered bending his head down to capture your ruby lips when a knock on a door and the announcement that all the guests had arrived stole the long awaited moment between you both.

And promise he did. Never once during the entirety of the night did Tommy leave your side as he worked the room and the many guests he had to greet, stealing small glances at you every brief moment he could to gaze at your radiating beauty. Whether it be talking to politicians or men of nobility, Tommy's hand protectively hovered next to yours throughout the evening, discreetly brushing over your fingers as he counted the hours to be finally alone with you again. He couldn't have hoped for a smoother night.

But calm is far from what was taking place behind the scenes of the glitzy evening of flowing ball gowns and filled champagne glasses that adorned the lower level of Arrow House. Far from calm.

With a smile painted on her face and a hop in her step. Your trusted housekeeper for the first time in a long time finally felt the early years of your residence in Arrow House joyfully seeping their way back into the heart of the home through the laughter and music that could be heard downstairs as she made her way up to William's nursery. Hoping he was sleeping as soundly as she had left him. But when she reached the door of your son's room, a reminder of the dark presence that still resided over the stately home could be heard whispering vicious words to the innocent ears of its youngest resident.

" I'll be your new mother soon. Your old mummy's not well, William. She left you, remember?" Don't worry she'll be gone soon" the Governesses voice hushed as she loomed over William's cot as he tossed and turned restlessly in his sleep. "Just you, me and your father, it won't be long now" she added as Frances watched on in horror through the crack of the door, her unfathomable words spilling from her thinly lined lips.

" Get out! Leave!" Frances' voice rose as she hurried to check on young William's well-being. " Mr Shelby ordered you to leave. If you had any sense, you'd go before he learns of the disgusting things I just heard you say"

" Oh Frances. The busy worker bee. Always listening, watching..." she giggled with a quick glare as she sauntered to the open door. " It will all end in heartbreak" she said as she turned around to face your trusted housekeeper and her hand firmly grasped onto the frame of the door, blocking any future attempts to reach your child and seethe her vapid words once again.

" When will you understand... Agness?" she questioned, speaking her name for the first time. Unwilling to use the title of Governess she no longer deserved. " You were but a minor distraction for him as he grieved and cried for the love he still held for his wife. He doesn't want you. Now leave" Frances said as the Governesses smirk dropped and her wicked hatred for anyone daring to get in her way spilled over into fury.

All it took was a blinding second, a swift merciless moment for the Governess to grab hold of the door and slam it shut on Frances' hand, crushing her wrist between the door and its frame.

Muffling her screams with all her might to not wake and frighten the young child in her care. Frances desperately tried to free her hand and the excruciating pain soaring through the snapping of her bones.

" Busy bodies always get their comeuppance, dear Frances " she said letting go of the door before her wrist gave way and broke.

Clutching onto her throbbing hand as she quietly wept. Frances slid down in a heap to the floor as she watched the Governess quietly walk away through her teary vision into the darkened corridor to a Charleston playing loudly downstairs.

"Frances! Frances!" The young kitchen aid caught up to her as she walked through the foyer, quickly grabbing a linen napkin and wrapping it around her limp wrist. " You're hurt" young Billy said, taking her hand as Frances stopped a young maid walking by.

" Go sit with William Ethel. All night. Don't leave his side" Frances ordered as the maid hurried with haste up the winding staircase to the nursery.

" What's going on? Is he Ill? I'll... I'll get Mr Shelby, Mrs Shelby" Billy stuttered as he looked at the terror weighing down your housekeeper's frightened face.

" No Billy. Let them be" she reluctantly replied as she turned to see the both of you dancing the last song of the night together, smiling lovingly at each other as small giggles joyously left your lips at Tommy's quick-footed steps. The happiness beaming off your faces tearing her away from interrupting your rekindling marriage. She would tell you in the morning. She promised herself.

" Frances, there's something I think you should know" Billy said, following her into the bustling kitchen as the staff washed their way through the many plates of canapes that had been eaten and glasses of champagne that had been drunk.

" What is it, Billy?"

As the evening slowly died down, and enough time had been spent in the company of people your husband had little, if any regard for other than their checkbooks. He quietly whisked you off to the small living room of your home to a lit fire and two crystal glasses of champagne waiting for you. Hiding you both away from any further small talk or pressing matters with the turn of a key. Alone, at last.

" Wasn't your finest moment, so I've been told" you laughed after recounting the story his brothers had told you about your poor husband's ghostly face and unsteady feet after hearing you scream bloody murder from down in the foyer he'd been pacing for near ten hours whilst you were in the throes of labor with William.

" Sweetheart.." He stopped, leaning forward to you with a smirk on his face. " You sounded like you were giving birth to the antichrist himself" he laughed, earning him a quick smack across the chest. " I've seen it at the pictures, so I know how that shit ends" he said tipping his glass to you with a cocky smile. The top three buttons of his shirt undone, waistcoat and cufflinks gone. For the first time in two years, Tommy looked relaxed. Happy.

" Yes well, good thing I gave you an angel of a son" you corrected him, taking a sip of your third glass of champagne.

" That you did" Tommy smiled to you. With his eyes glossed over with love, he reached his hand across the feathered cushion to softly rub his thumb across your knuckles. " How did I get so lucky, eh?" He sighed heavily, his eyes scanning across your face, engraving the very moment into his memory. Scared, his happiness would be snatched away from him once again.

" Tom..." You blushed, gazing up at him through your full lashes as a small nagging moment of guilt escaped the corners of your mind for having left him and your son.

" C'mere" he said, quickly simmering your worries as he ushered you closer to him with a tilt of his head, placing his empty glass on the table beside him.

With his breath hot against your lips, Tommy cupped your cheeks, closing the mere millimeters between you both and capturing your mouth in a tender longing kiss.

" Tommy..." You mumbled, quickly feeling the passion rise within you as the embrace intensified with the welcome feeling of your husband's tongue gently stroking against your own.

With a surge of confidence and a need to urgently feel your husband's body intertwined with yours, you pulled yourself up onto his lap as Tommy watched your hurried movements. Refraining himself and his own desperation to flip you onto your back, and bury himself in you.

Why was he just watching you? You thought to yourself as you undid each remaining button of his shirt one by one, a sudden wave of insecurity heating your cheeks as Tommy's hands stayed motionless by his side as his intent stare held still.

Were you rushing things, did you misunderstand his intentions ? Then why did he kiss you like that? Your brain ticked over with questions as he watched you timidly slide the straps of your dress down past your full breasts, sending a wave of desire through him as he scrambled to keep his composure, and let you take control of the pace.

Had he been too restrained? Shit. Did you think he didn't want this? He questioned himself as he watched your eyes fill with uncertainty as your hands hovered over the buckle of his belt.

" Don't stop..." Tommy breathed heavily as you apprehensively slid your hand down his trousers only to recoil with doubt that this was even what he wanted. " Darling please, don't stop..." He said swallowing harshly, his heart rapidly pounding in his chest at the long awaited feel of your touch as he torturously kept himself from taking things quicker. " Fuck" your husband moaned as you wrapped your hand around his stiffened cock, slowly pumping it up and down within your palm.

With your dress bunched up around your stomach, you lined his throbbing length up. Briefly lingering it beneath you, when your husband could no longer withstand the wait and his hands flew up to your waist sinking you down on to him with a gasp as he threw his head back in relief.

" Tommy" You moaned his name as he bucked further into you, his grip securely fastened on your waist.

"Sweetheart, look at me..." Your husband panted holding onto your hips as you rocked back of forth, eyes tightly shut, mouth agape in the highs of pleasure. " Y/N, look at me" he pleaded as he watched you finally open eyes, pulling you forward into a searing embrace before flipping you onto your back and ridding himself of the rest of his clothes

" Tom" you breathlessly whined as he thrusted into you, his hands tracing down the warmth of your body as he pulled at the fabric of dress in his way you was reluctant to be rid of.

" Stop hiding from me Y/N " Tommy said, as you pulled your gown back up, covering the scars your self-conscious thoughts resented as Tommy pulled out and knelt between your legs. " It's ok" he nodded reassuringly, gently moving your stubborn hands away and pulling the remainder of your clothes from your body.

"You kept our son safe" Tommy said, brushing his thumb over the small faded streaks as he watched your eyes well with tears. Hearing your worried thoughts without a single word leaving your lips.

" Hey, shhh" he hushed your fears away as he settled his heavy body down between your legs, his lips pecking their way over the slope of your breasts until capturing your mouth in his. " My wife. My beautiful wife" he said reaching his hand down to his pulsing cock, sighing at the feeling of your warmth enveloping him once again as he urgently entered you. " I love you Y/N" Tommy moaned between each labored breath as he rocked his hips into you, instantly ridding you of any doubt of his remaining feelings for you with three simple words. The sweetest of words you realised you had been waiting to hear to finally feel at peace with your past actions.

" I love you too, Tommy" you breathlessly moaned as you held onto your husband's strong frame as he pulled your legs around his back, wrapping them tightly against him to feel as close, as deep as he could possibly be. At one with you. Making love to you.

As morning came and the sun glistened through the netted curtains. Beams of light cascaded over the woven blanket draped over your tired bodies as you laid soundly asleep on the plush setee you had spent the night passionately making up for the many sleepless hours of darkness you had both endured. But darkness remained, looming feet from you. Creeping in unseen, unheard.

" Soon" The Governess whispered through gritted teeth as her fingers clasped tightly around the blade in her hand, her lust for vengeance close to sabotaging her deadly plan enough for her to find her way into the small haven you had made as she watched you from the door wrapped in a lovers embrace. " Soon..."

PART SIX (The Final) coming soon!

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[zablife]

@jomarch-wannabe Madelyn, my emotions are in tatters after finishing this beautifully written fic! You've captured a vulnerable side to Tommy which is both heartbreaking and refreshing. We see the mortal man beneath the impenetrable exterior he displays to the world.

However, it all comes at a price. The reader's desperate, yet futile plea for her husband's life gutted me. And Tommy's response, offering comfort of the here and now shattered me even further 💔 It's a terribly romantic reminder to live in the present. I know I'll be thinking of this for some time. Well done!

Afraid

Tommy Shelby x Fem!Reader

Synopsis: Tommy’s wife finds out about his diagnosis

Warnings: Angst, insanely depressing, tears, allusion to tuberculoma/illness, depiction of anxiety, tension, mentions of death, nothing happy in this at all

Author’s note: Derived from Season 6 when Tommy gets diagnosed with a terminal illness (I do use some dialogue from Episode 5)

The heels of your black t-strap shoes clicked against the wooden floor, echoing through the expansive halls of Arrow house. You approached Tommy’s dimly lit office in hopes of retrieving a book. He was into reading poetry lately, and you thought you’d borrow from him.

“Tommy?” You peeked your head in, surprised to find his office chair vacant. He must have stepped out for a moment.

A grand library lined the walls of his office, adjacent to his desk. The titles jumped out at you as you walked towards it, turning your head, and scanning over the names: Frost, Hughes, Fitzgerald. A cloud of dust swirled in the air as you pulled one off the shelf, holding it open in your hands and flicking through the pages.

You invited yourself to sit down, sighing as you settled into a plush, velvety red lounge chair. After looking over the book for awhile your eyes flicked up to his desk. A manila folder stood out against the dark wood. In curiosity, you got up, setting your book down and walking over to it.

You rounded his desk, flicking your eyes over the unlabeled folder. With a furrowed brow you opened it, running your painted fingers over the documents.

The thumping of familiar, confident footsteps grew in volume, nearing the office. Tommy’s figure entered, dressed in his usual attire. His eyes widened in surprise and horror to see you standing there. “What are you doing in here?”

“I was looking for something..” You defended absentmindedly; your attention engrossed in the files laid out before you. A sinking feeling brewed in your stomach as you observed the papers.

“What is this, Tommy?” The question came out in a shaky whisper. You chewed on your lip, thumbing through the doctor’s note and the x-ray, pulling it off his desk.

A curse fled him with a breath. He didn’t intend for you to find that. His jaw clenched as pulled the door closed behind him.

As your flickering eyes examined the black and white image, your hands started to tremble, trying to decipher its meaning as if there was an alternative one. “Tommy.. what- what does this mean?”

Silence filled the room as he walked over to the bar cart, pouring himself a drink. He was self-medicating. He didn’t even realize he was doing it. You watched him with worried eyes, waiting for him to say something. He was silent, taking a large drink of whiskey with an expressionless face, letting out a withheld breath. He didn’t even taste it anymore. Didn’t feel it’s warm burn going down his throat. But he did feel the cloud of turbulent emotions swelling in his chest. That was something he never got used to.

“Tommy?”

“What?” He shouted suddenly, making you jump. “For Christ’s sake, what??”

His chest rose and fell with his labored breath, running his fingers through his hair as he looked at you with raised brows.

“Are you..” you choked, swallowing the lump rising in your throat. “Are you ill?”

Silence again. You held yourself in anticipation, smoothing your palm over your neck, pulling at your necklace to gather more air.

“Yes! Alright? Yes. I’m fucking dying. What does it fucking matter anyway..” he scoffed, reaching urgently into his pocket for a lighter.

His insensitive, casual air of speaking made you tremble with nerves, anger, and confusion. You threw the papers down on the desk, striding across the room to meet him. His detached expression illuminated from the flame of his lighter, casting aglow the pale blue eyes hiding from yours. He took in a drag, letting it out and raising his head to look at you. Internally, he was repelled by your sympathy. As if you were a nuisance for caring about him.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” You cried, blinking back tears. “How could you keep this from me?” Your heart was pounding as a sense of hurt and betrayal came over you.

“It wasn’t for you to know.. alright?” He explained in his usual placid tone, gesturing a hand out as he spoke. “I was developing a plan, making sure everyone is taken care of.” A breath of gray smoke entered the air with his exasperated breath.

Tommy didn’t know how to take care of himself. He avoided it. He knew if he looked inward there would be too many problems and not enough time to solve them. So, he made everyone else his project.

You let out a painful scoff, taking a few steps back in disbelief. “You and your plans Tommy!” An aggravated groan came from you as you rubbed your stressed fingers over your face, trying to ease the building pressure in your head.

“When everyone is taken care of financially, I’ll take myself away..”

Your hand fell from your face, blinking at him in shock and confusion.

His expression remained unchanged at your display of protest. “Before that I will be going to Canada, to collect payment for a shipment worth five million pounds.” The tip of his cigarette dragged over his lips as his brow furrowed in thought. “Which I will share among the Shelby family..”

A gray cloud of smoke followed his moving lips, standing out in the amber light, swirling in a haze. It reminded you of the fragility of human life, that in one moment it can disappear like a whisper, dissolving into the air.

“And that will be my legacy." His gaze split from you as his jaw clenched, internally at war over speaking his next words. "Instead of me, there will be money. Because to most of the people close to me that is what I am!" He raised his voice with his rising adrenaline, pointing a finger in emphasis. "Fucking money.”

The statement felt like a punch in the gut, taking your breath away. “What? Tommy that’s not true..”

“Eh?”

“That’s not true Tommy..” the nerves made you tremble, holding your stomach with your hands to settle the sick feeling.

“All them bullets that missed. It’s funny. It’s funny is what it is! Made it through fucking France- all of it, and fucking tuberculoma is what takes me. Christ.” He turned from you and poured himself another drink, indulging it quickly. A bead of liquid spilled down his chin, which he wiped away with the back of his hand. He leaned forward, holding onto the edge of the table. The tendons in his hand twitched as his frustration grew.

“You’re afraid Tommy.”

His temple jumped from the pressure of his clenched jaw as he turned in your direction, straightening his posture. “What?”

“You’re afraid..” you whimpered sympathetically, tip-toeing towards him with woeful eyes.

“When you’re afraid..” you whispered sadly, venturing to stroke his temple with your fingers. “You over-explain yourself..” the pad of your thumb stroked his skin softly, damp with sweat. “you talk and you don’t stop..”

The tension in his shoulders eased from the warmth of your touch. He couldn’t take his eyes off you. He felt trapped. You knew him too well. Knew him more than he knew himself sometimes.

A surge of empathy came suddenly over you like tidal wave that couldn’t be reasoned with. You could feel his grief, weighing on you against your will. It’s feeling began in your stomach, rising to your throat, when you finally broke the silence, letting out a choked sob. Your fingers came over your mouth, trying to stifle the sound.

You took a few careful steps towards him, breathing shakily as you dared to close the space between you, sliding your delicate hands around his neck.

“Fuck off.. fuck off..” he whimpered at your attempt to embrace him, pushing your arms away. His strong hands grabbed hold of your wrists, resisting your touch.

“Tommy..” you whispered sadly, fighting his attempts to flee. You cried, struggling to wrap your arms around him.

“Get the fuck off me..” he whispered harshly, looking at you with watery eyes. His pale blue eyes glistened with tears as he looked over you, his brows knit together sadly, resembling the look of a scared child.

You sniffled in response, thumbing his cheek tenderly. The warmth of your touch coaxed a bead to slip from his eye, rolling down his face.

He knew he couldn't win this war. The grip on your wrists loosened as he let go of your arms. With defeated steps he closed the space between you, dropping his head into your chest. He took in a shaky breath, fanning your skin, before letting go completely, dampening your blouse with his tears. It’s been bottling up in him for so long. He tried to hide it. Tried his best to keep it a secret. To stay strong for you. But he couldn’t. You always gave him a safe space to be weak.

“Oh Tommy..” you wept, your voice was ridden with grief. For the fact that he was bearing all of this on his own. That he was dying right in front of you, and you didn’t notice. You didn’t notice and you hated yourself for it. He was so good at hiding.

Your hands rubbed up and down his back, as he tightened his arms around you, holding onto you like you would dissolve if he let go. Trying to imprint the feeling of your body in his mind to remember it in the next life.

You cried with him, holding his shaking body against yours. “We can.. we can find a doctor Tommy we can find someone.. we’ll bring you to church Tommy.. we’ll pray.. Polly will pray with us.. I know it..” the words tumbled from your lips, unable to stop yourself as you stroked your fingers through his damp hair.

“I don’t want any of it Tommy. The cars, the fancy clothes, the- bloody house, my jewelry.. I’ll give it all away.. I just need you.. I’ve always only needed you. You’ve always been enough for me.” A painful cry came out of you as you held onto him, needing his support as much as he needed yours.

There was never enough time. Always so many things. Things that end up in land fills, that don’t bear the erosion of time. It was all worth nothing to you now. The one thing that mattered to you most was dying.

He sniffled, letting out a groan and raising his head from your chest and looking at you.

“Y/n..” he whispered, thumbing your face, and making you look at him. “y/n.. look at me..”

“There must be, there must be something we can do Tommy..” your lip trembled as you spoke, placing your hand over his. Your fingertips ran over his knuckles, soothed by the strength of his hands.

His forehead rested against yours, speaking in a low whisper. “These things happen sweetheart. Can’t stop time. Some things we can’t control..” he spoke clearly now, collecting himself and thumbing your cheek.

“You can’t leave Tommy.. you can’t leave me..” you hiccupped tears, swiping your under eyes with your fingertips. “I’m sorry Tommy.. I don’t mean to cry..”

“Shh.. it’s okay love.. I’ve had more time with it.” He soothed, brushing away the wetness with his thumb.

“I can’t do it without you Tommy.. I’m nothing without you. I’ll be half of a person without you Tommy..” you gasped for air, feeling like your head was going to explode from the pressure.

Sensing your distress, he tried to comfort you. “I’m still here sweetheart.. alright? Just breathe with me. I’m still here. We’re together right now. Can you feel my hands on you? My voice whispering in your ear? Eh?” He whispered, smoothing his warm hands down your back.

You nodded, sniffling, feeling your breathing slow.

“There you go.. it’s alright.. it’s alright.. come ‘ere..” his firm hands guided you into his chest with little effort, cradling your quivering frame. He settled his chin on your head, letting out a shaky breath and kissing your hair, breathing you in.

“You don’t have to face it alone Tommy.. for Christ’s sake please don’t let your ego win this war.” You whispered against his chest, nudging your head against him. “You need someone to burden this with you and a thousand times I would.”

“I know sweetheart.. I know.. I know..” his familiar, soothing voice vibrated against your ear as he spoke.

“Stay with me Tommy..” you whispered sadly, memorizing the rhythm of his heartbeat, and the soft sounds of his breathing. “Don’t let me go.. please don’t let go..”

He swallowed sadly, tightening his grip around you. “I promise, I’ll stay with you every second love.. I won’t leave you..” he sighed shakily, his pale eyes glazing over with a distant expression, “not yet."

[zablife]

@darklydeliciousdesires WOW, Claire!! The beginning may have been a slow burn, but you did not hold back here! This chapter was 🔥🔥!! And can I say how much I adore Adrien's revelation that he enjoys being dominated? 🥵 What an unexpected delight! On a more serious note, I thought Jade might have some sort of flashback as Adrien reciprocates and now I'm wondering if and when her past with Ivan will come to light? You made it difficult to focus on that plot point with all the delicious smut being served tho 🤭 What can I say? I'm far too easily distracted by this gorgeous couple! Amazing work, as always!

Sky Full of Stars - Chapter Four.

Here you go then, guys. An entire chapter of smut. Go forth and devour ;)

Previous chapters - One Two Three

Tag list - In the comments

Words - 4,633

Warnings - 18+ content throughout. Minors DNI!

What began as a rapid undressing of two people consumed by desire for one another slowed in tempo by the time their naked bodies hit the bed, though it still burned like the heat of a thousand suns. His body blanketed hers, chiselled muscles pressing her into the soft, white linen beneath, his tongue pooling a lick at the dip of her neck, lips scattering kisses upon the side of her throat.  

He felt glorious against her, her hands chartering the exploration of his body, a flush of goose pimples rising over his back as her short nails softly clawed down his sides, his teeth nipping at her neck before his mouth lowered. Wetting her hand with a slippery lick, she reached to curl a grasp around what had to be one of the most perfect, thick cocks she had ever witnessed, feeling it twitch against the slow pull she teased, a soft groan vibrating his throat as he sucked her nipple.  

“Mmm,” she purred, thumb rubbing the head of him, his abs twitching against her arm, “you’re so big.”  

“Mmhm.” he hummed with a wink, moving to kiss her with need before he slid from her grasp, elbows knocking her thighs further apart, his tongue circling her navel. He had her burning with incandescence, her flames rising to his touch, hips quaking when she felt him drag a thumb through her already glistening folds. Seeking out her clit, he began to stroke it teasingly lightly, barely any pressure there as his thumb circled, her little cry setting his insides to tingle.  

She felt it rush over her nerves in a glimmer, panting softly, that tentative contact becoming firmer as she felt his other hand move, two fingers pushing into her while his mouth moved to press hot, open-mouthed kisses upon her inner thigh. A simple crook of his fingers, raking them against her walls slowly but firmly sent heat skipping over her nerves, his eyes transfixed at the sight of her spread before him, completely lost to the bliss of his hands.  

“Oh, fuck that feels so good!” she cried, legs writhing, jolting a little when his teeth nipped softly at her inner thigh. 

He’d intended to tease her with the anticipation of it a little longer, but the sight of her, the warm wet glossing his fingers, those soft moans. It would take a stronger man than him to resist moving his hands and instead, burying his mouth against the soaked velvet of her folds. Each lick pressed into her firmly, his groan of desire all grit and baritone, nose tickled against the little landing strip of hair remaining, tongue flickering against the hot gush of her opening before it rolled up to begin beating against her clit.  

“Holy shit!” she gasped, her hands rooting in his hair, “how fucking fast can you move your tongue?” 

She felt him smile against her, sucking on her clit while looking up, hands reaching to gently knead her breasts. “Faster than that.”  

He... what? 

“You’re going to ruin me, aren’t you?” 

A deep laugh echoed his throat. “Yeah, that’s a given.”  

Despite her words, she wasn’t sure if he was being serious, until she felt it for herself, the tip of his tongue whirling rapidly over her hardened little bud, her eyes rolling back in her head as her mouth dropped open. How was he real? Truly, where was the downside of this gorgeous, intelligent, funny, lovely man who had a tongue that challenged the speed of sound? How? He’d likely have a flaw somewhere, but right at that moment, she was enjoying him being without any at all as he ate her with fervent desire.  

Her moans escalated, hands tugging his hair hard as she writhed against the relentlessness of every rapid lick, the ecstasy set to a rushing flood that poured golden through her veins. Holy shit. Not even she had made herself come that quickly before. She was only vaguely aware of him kissing her thigh for a few moments in the aftermath, her head fuzzy, lost to the pulse of her orgasm still throbbing through her entire being.  

The feeling of him pushing into her brought her back, her mouth dropping open. Oh, god. Even bigger than it looked, and... 

“Erm... condom?” she spoke, raising an eyebrow. 

He smirked, reaching out to grasp the empty wrapper between his fingers. “Already there. You were too busy being tongue drunk to notice.”  

“Oh,” she laughed quietly, whimpering softly as he began to move within her, kissing him with slow, sumptuous heat. “Are you going to get me nicely dick drunk now, too?” 

His eyes shone with lust, the green somehow seeming even brighter, although those beautiful irises were rapidly becoming eclipsed by the inking of his pupils. “Absolutely hammered, honey.”  

Utter adoration spurred the kisses they shared, fervent and hungry, her hands roaming his arms as she undulated her hips up into him, loving the feeling of being filled and stretched out, the pace even and rolling to begin with, their sync perfect.  

“Gorgeous,” he panted, hands running tenderly down her face, “so fucking beautiful.” 

Those words made her feel elated, their kisses heating up as he began to breech her with more urgency, cock hitting her summit as the need for greater friction consumed him. Her nails grazed his back, her soft moans becoming louder, legs winding around him as his thrusts quickly became completely uncontained in all out frenzy.  

“Oh, god. Fuck me.” she purred. He did, and oh, it was relentless. It was everything she hoped it would be over the past three days. She drank him in, knowing she only had four days left to enjoy this, savouring the feeling of his cock arrowing her soaking centre deeply, her nerves buzzing, pleasure streaking through her like a hail of shooting stars beneath her skin.   

Each hot, rhythmic grind against her walls had her fluttering madly, the breath knocked from her. Yes, he was ferocious with her, but it wasn’t a mindless battering of her innermost sacred area. He fucked her with purpose, knew exactly how to align his cock so it yielded nothing but pleasure within her, his groans hungry at her neck, hands pawing, lost and adrift on the vast sea that was sex with the woman who had captivated him beyond comprehension.  

It became so intense, she was unsure whether she was pulling back or driving against him, the sizzle of pleasure igniting her down to her very bones as his thrusts became staccato, both hurtling towards sweet, throbbing culmination. The heat snapped like a tempest, her thighs going rigid around him, his diligence tipping her into the swell of heaven mere moments after him.  

He continued to move in a slow glide within her, everything softening, his hands cupping her cheeks, kissing her, both fighting to breathe. They gazed with complete fondness at one another, Jade enjoying the way his cock felt as it twitched inside her, the burn of her release gently ebbing away. Eventually they found their way beneath the covers, only four hours of sleep in the early hours dictating they enjoy the comfort of a bed to also rest their heads in, Adrien curling around her as they drifted off.  

They’d been sleeping for two hours when Jade awoke to a strange noise, feeling a sudden shaking behind her. Turning, she saw him, hand clasped over his mouth, finally letting his laughter boom when he saw she’d woken herself up.  

“What the hell was that noise?” she asked sleepily, only tipping him into further hysterics. 

“You!” he hissed, “you just made a moo noise! It wasn’t even like a cow mooing, though. It was more a person doing a bad impersonation of a baby cow. Oh my god!”  

Not another nocturnal noise. Hiding her face, she felt warmth growing across her cheeks, eventually laughing as she emerged, Adrien pulling her into his arms. “Moo. That’s your name now.”  

And now a further nickname thanks to the aforementioned nocturnal noises. “Oh, my life. Famed for the noises I can make into a microphone and cursed by the ones I do in my sleep!” Looking at him, she aimed a soft slap to his shoulder. “Stop laughing at me!” 

“I can’t! It’s too funny!” He finally managed to compose himself, sensing her embarrassment, laying kisses atop her head as he stroked her hair.  

“I’m going to get you back, you know,” she spoke, moving out from his embrace as she turned him onto his back, seating herself astride him while stroking his chest. “You might enjoy it, though. It depends.” 

His eyebrow arched. “On what?” 

“On how open you are to the idea of relinquishing control.”  

“Hm,” he mused, looking thoughtful. “Usually not that much, my dominant streak is pretty hard wired. What did you have in mind?”  

Reaching to the side of the bed, he grabbed his jeans, pulling the belt free as she fixed him with a very suggestive look. Five minutes on from that, and he found himself bound tightly to the bedframe by his wrists, the brand-new leather a little constrictive against his skin. If anything, that added to the overall effect of being tied up, though.  

It then occurred to him; he was thirty-six, had done much tying up of his lover’s past, but this was the first time he’d ever allowed somebody else to do so with him. Swiftly, he became absent of all thoughts at all, her mouth teasing its way all over his body, finally reaching his cock and toying with him, a few kisses fluttered over the very tip, leaving him hanging in suspense before finally, her mouth sank, lips closing tightly around the base.  

His mouth dropped open, her lips pulsing around him a couple of times as he looked down at her in disbelief. “Um, I’m not complaining, but do you even have a gag reflex?” 

She dragged her mouth back up the thick of his shaft slowly, so slowly, his eyes virtually crossed, releasing him with a little slippery pop. “Nope.” Winking, her mouth travelled back down again, his head thudding against the pillows with a deep groan, chuckling a laugh that was one hundred percent filthy.  

Beautiful, talented, interesting, funny, sweet, and no gag reflex. He’d found the holy grail.  

“I swear,” she murmured, running her tongue up the thickened vein on the underside of his shaft, “you have the most perfect cock I have ever seen. They’re not aesthetically pleasing, but yours is. It’s beautiful. Mmm, feels just as gorgeous as it looks, too.” And she was complimentary, which didn’t hurt his ego at all. Each drag of her mouth had his muscles twitching, her hand taking over, tongue flickering over the very tip until she drew the kind of groans from him that arrowed right between her thighs.  

She had him gleaming from the wet of her tongue, hand tugging up and down as she sucked the head of him, hearing the leather creaking, his muscles bulging as he began to pull against the restraint. Letting him cool down, she moved her mouth to his chiselled abs, tongue trailing the rises and falls, hand pumping softly, making him keen for more, his back arching a little from the bed.  

Returning her mouth, she took him right to her throat once more, keeping it slow, slow, slow, the little shocks skittering over his muscles flourishing to relentless quivers, his cock jerking as she sucked him, tongue darting from side to side, sending him on a clear trajectory to utter mindlessness. Releasing him, she chartered a lick from the dark hair leading from his navel, slowly over his abs, up to his chest, softly biting his nipple as she moved astride him, guiding his harness into the slippery clasp of her... 

“Damn, that pretty little pussy is fucking soaking,” he groaned, hissing a moan when her teeth crushed against his nipple again with a little more acerbity, Jade sitting up to sink down on him fully. 

“All because of you, gorgeous. Seriously, just looking at you gets me wet.” Her purr preceded a lust filled gaze, smiling as she watched the pleasure dance in his eyes, licking her lip and squeezing her inner muscles around him in a powerful, viscid series of clenches. After a brief exchange had revealed both to be fine where STI’s were concerned and her on the pill, the idea of condoms had been abandoned. “I can’t wait to feel you fill me with cum, but baby, it isn’t going to happen anytime soon.”  

“Isn't it?” he rumbled, a sharp buck of his hips almost unseating her. 

“Ah, ah,” she warned, grasping his jaw, pushing two fingers into his mouth while lowering her lips to his neck. “None of that. Be a good boy and I’ll fuck you. Misbehave, and I’ll punish you. Understand?” Moving until only the very head of his cock remained within her, she squeezed on him again, and god, what that and her words did to his brain. 

Static. Mere buzzing where his thoughts would be. Thank you and goodnight, ladies and gentlemen. Adrien Brody had left the building. He was being dominated for the first time in his life, and it hit him with blunt force gravitas, how much it truly sparked his arousal from burning flames to complete wildfire.  

“Mmhmm.” he hummed in confirmation, sucking her fingers as she slowly pulled them from his mouth, replacing them for her tongue and kissing him with burning finesse. Rolling her hips, she ensnared the entire length of his shaft again, walls pulsing on him, pulling rumbling groans from deep in his chest that slowly begin to soften in pitch, a little helpless, his body still shuddering with an edge of hunger beneath hers.  

When she’d told him she was a cock tease, she had not been lying. At all.  

Finally, after squeezing and releasing him to the point of overly aroused agony, she began to slide upon him, hips weaving in a figure of eight and furtherly reducing him to a shaking wreck of a man beneath her. He was ruined, the sensation of his cock hitting her insides at every angle and depth fluttering up his spine, heart hammering so wildly he could hear the thrum of it echoing through his ears.  

She was a sexual goddess, a poison flower, the kind of woman who knew how to flay a man’s senses right down to the razor’s edge of his nerves, but in a way he wouldn’t ever be able to cease craving. It was that sharp edge she kept him teetering upon, too, building him up, watching carefully, gauging when he was close only to stop dead and deny his falling into the whirling, crashing sea of ecstasy he so desperately wanted to drown within.  

“If I... fuck... have a damned heart attack... just let it be known... I died... very happy,” he panted, hardly able to string a sentence together, Jade leaning to him, running her tongue in a slow glide up his cheek. She’d worked him to the point of orgasm six times, edging him to the boundaries of his own sanity. All the while too, watching the illimitably erotic sight of her fingers sweeping in circles over her clit. No wonder he could barely speak. The poor man was shaking like a leaf beneath her, finely sheened with sweat. It was time.  

The intent she began to move with had entire constellations lighting up and collapsing within him, hissing mutters of both curses and prayers as he felt it burn through him, cock jerking and filling her, coming so hard he felt knocked sideways by it. Her own undoing cascaded through her in ceaseless waves, all those little darts hitting every target, but none more so than watching just how hard he’d unravelled beneath her.  

“Are you okay down there?” she asked sweetly, giggling softly at the way his mouth hung agape, blinking slowly, eyebrows rising as he panted hard.  

“Yeah,” he finally croaked, grinning widely, “I’ve never come that hard in my entire life. Wow.”  

Leaning to him, they kissed with gentle heat, Jade reaching to unfasten the belt binding him to the bed, climbing off him to walk in a somewhat bow-legged stagger to the bathroom. Feeling very pleased with herself, she went about her business, washing her hands and splashing her face with water, her minimal makeup still looking good.  

Opening the door, she nearly died of fright, seeing Adrien standing right there. She’d assumed him to be still lost to the ebbing of his release, but no. Not so much. And the way he looked at her? Oooh.  

“You shouldn’t have untied me,” he spoke, deep voice raspy and sexy, a smirk beginning to tilt the corner of his mouth. 

“Shouldn’t I?” she asked, leaning against the doorframe. 

He shook his head, ducking to throw her over her shoulder. “You’re in trouble now.” 

The force of the spank he placed to her ass made her eyes widen, Jade carried back to the bed with the hugest grin upon her face. Another hard slap had her squealing, her mouth dropping open. If that was a starter smack, would she even be able to sit down once he was done with her?  

He placed her down on the end of the bed, hands reaching beneath her arms to pull her up until she was kneeling, hand lifting her chin, his thumb running over her lower lip. “Stay there. Don’t you move an inch.” 

The way he delivered those words, the instruction clear and firm, ohhh. As a woman very much in the driving seat of her life, one who did not give up control easily or bend to the will of others unless she wanted to, being given orders didn’t sit well with her. However, that one did. The little sparkle rippling her core told her how much, too.  

The bed dipped with his weight as he moved behind her, Jade hearing the sound of his belt buckle rattle, the leather caressing her forearms as he bound them together. He weaved it around, her wrists crossed and fastened, lamenting that he didn’t have something more substantial than a mere belt. “I wish I had access to rope. I’d bind you up if we were at my place, suspend you from the hook I have hanging on a chain above my bed, and make you watch me fuck you while you’re all tied up tight.” 

Fire. Blazing fire burned through her, his lips dropping hot, opened mouthed kisses against her neck, hands moving to stroke swirls across her breasts. “So, you’re a freak, is what you’re telling me, hmm?” 

“On occasion.” His teeth nipped at her earlobe, a rumbled chuckle setting her blood to boil. “Shhh. No more talking. I’m accepting pretty little moans only, or nothing at all.”  

Nobody told her to shush, and she liked it about as much as she didn’t. And he knew. His hands slid over her skin, chartering paths of heat, one reaching her throat and gently grasping. It flashed through her mind for a moment, the last time her neck had been held, her body stiffening until the stroke of his fingertips over her throat brought her back from memories of the man who’d hurt her worse than she’d ever been, back to the one she felt herself falling easily into a place of trust with.  

A few more kisses were scattered over her neck, her shoulder, feeling him move himself beneath her, Adrien taking to his back and pushing her thighs apart, her body lowering to straddle his head. The desire to reach for his gloriously muscular arms as he brought them through her thighs gap as well was huge, not settling with the notion of being incapacitated quite as well as he had, her finger beginning to fiddle in an attempt to free herself.  

Immediately, she was reprimanded, his hand smacking her ass so hard, her eyes watered. “Behave.” 

“It’s your fault,” she purred, watching as he laid kisses upon her inner thighs, “having those gorgeous arms I’m just dying to stroke.” 

His hand met her ass again, the smack even harder. “I said no talking, Jade.”  

“But...”  

Again, his hand brought a stinging reprimand. “With every word you keep speaking, I’ll add another minute to how long you have to wait to feel my mouth right here.” He kissed her slit, that press of his lips making her nerves bounce, Jade biting her lip and nodding. She could have continued to fight, not bend to him, but oh, not when she remembered how crazily good that man was with his tongue. If obedience meant she’d receive that faster, then she could be good for him. 

His mouth ghosted around her apex, teasing the promise, soft kisses eventually pressed, his tongue licking the uppermost juncture of her thigh, her legs beginning to quiver. His lips brought sparks to cinder upon her skin, the arousal rushing over her body like a spring breeze with just the slightest tingle of chill, his teeth closing in a soft bite upon her thigh making her muscles bounce.  

His tease had her teetering on the precipice of anticipation, more so than she could ever remember, big hands kneading her tits, thumbs skimming over her pebbled nipples until finally, she felt the gratification she needed. Pushing his tongue flat against her dewy opening, he ran a long, slow, firm lick up to her clit, the wide press parting her folds with delicious precision.  

The taste of her flooded his senses, earthy like honey with a little note of citrus sharp, a few more long licks pulling the kind of moans from her that made his cock begin twitching back into life, closing her nipples in a soft pinch between his thumbs and forefingers. Her hips began to sway, and he allowed it, happily left her ride the blade of his tongue, swirling through her folds with a hungry grunt.  

A bonfire of pleasure began to crackle deep, like the amber of flames glowing through the blackest of nights, her breath shuddered as she felt his nose very deliberately nudging her clit while his tongue dipped her soaking hole. God, he was too good. Biting sparks flickered when he returned his tongue to her bud, circling her, slowly and firmly, watching her soft abs flex, fingers pinching firmer as he rolled her nipples deliciously between his thumbs and forefingers.  

Each expeditious flicker of his tongue all over her swollen clit pulled her pleasure further forth, her soft moans escalating to helpless wails, thighs shaking. She knew he’d do it, guessed his intention would be to – as he had warned when they first met – tease her back twice as badly, Adrien removing the contact and turning his head to kiss her inner thigh.  

The indignance of being left on simmer almost prompted her voice, to verbalise in protest, but she didn’t dare. Not if it meant he ceased altogether. Edging she could handle, but having his mouth right there against her sex without the incandescent laving of his tongue would be a torture she couldn’t withstand.  

Still, she was made to wait, the heat of his breath against her doing nothing but further driving her need, his tongue finally returning to her, chasing the pleasure until it welled warm and syrupy down her spine, puddling at her cunt, soaking his mouth. She likely thought he’d edge her to death with his mouth, but he was nothing if not a lover prepared to keep the woman he was with guessing.  

Closing his lips around her clit, he began to suck, increasing the pressure, smiling against the velvet wet of her as he evoked those beautiful, helpless, lust drenched wails, stopping at the crucial moment to gently touch his tongue against her instead. It wasn’t quite a lick, tiny little prods enough to keep her in rapture, but not enough to let her release surge.  

He removed his mouth entirely then, moving to kneel behind her, sliding a fingertip down her spine, his tongue then slowly following the path back up as his hand gently grasped the back of her neck, pushing gently but firmly.  

“Down.”  

That one simple word, delivered in rumbling baritone, sent pleasure skittering over her nerves, the force of his hand pressing her into the comforter and holding her there only adding to the forest fire that began to burn through her.  

Grasping his cock, he began to tease her folds, parting her walls an inch, then two, her whine helpless. “Told you, twice as badly.” He chuckled, making her growl low in her throat, his big hand coming down to smack her ass, the other rooting itself in her mountain of blonde waves. “But you’ll take it, though. You don’t have any other choice...” Grasping her hair, he hauled her up until her back hit his chest, the leather binding her wrists creaking, “...and that’s what turns you on the most, isn’t it?” 

“Mm,” she mewled, her heart crashing like a storm within her chest. 

“You can speak now, honey. I wanna hear you beg for my cock.” 

Oh, he was evil. Yes, she liked it more than she was prepared to admit. Just because she was completely at his mercy, though, it didn’t mean she couldn’t claw a little control back, use her words to her advantage. 

“You have no idea how much I want to feel you sliding that perfect, thick cock right up in me. I need it, need to feel you pounding me into the bed while you hold me down, spread me wide, make me scream for you. Please, baby. Please fuck me.” 

She was forced back down again, his cock nudging against her clit before it moved to spear into her, filling her deep. She cried out as he split her, her walls fluttering madly, the sensation of it fizzing down to her bones. He fell into a rhythm that had her gasping, hips hitting hard against her as the sound of flesh smacking together filled the air, his thickness scraping sparks through her walls.  

He was heavy and overbearing within her, hand fisted tightly in her hair, the other moving to clasp her where she was bound, fingers grasping hers in a move much tenderer than the onslaught he fucked her with. His groans went to gravel, like boulders crashing against one another, pounding against a spot within her that sent constellations glittering into life.  

Her tight, wet walls pulsed around him, drawing grits and cusses from him as he railed her into the bed, hand spanking another welt onto her ass, his fingers entwining with hers again as they both began to hurtle towards nirvana. Releasing the grasp on her neck, his hand moved beneath her, fingers stretching to tease heat at her clit, her wails hoarse, body shuddering against his as he moved like a jackhammer within her.  

It was fervid and wild, his cock hitting her summit again and again as she felt it jerk, her waves crashing against his shore as she came with a feral cry, the sensation of it rolling up her spine and back again as she felt him filling her with cum. He finally slowed, the flutters of her walls around him keeping him under the spell her body had cast upon him, hands moving to unfasten her binding. He gently rubbed her wrists, cock exiting her, watching the load he’d just shot deep beginning to drip out.  

They collapsed then, finding one another’s arms, everything melting into sweet serenity as they shared soft kisses, and time stood still. Neither had experienced contentment quite like it before. 

[zablife]

@darklydeliciousdesires I have to admit this did not follow the path I anticipated. However, I should have known Emily would not be the one to address Filomena with the fiery language Luca uses. She has far too much class. I appreciate the way she approaches the issue with such honesty, refusing to compromise her own standards.

Luca's response to her is so heartwarming, taking her suggestion and making amends with his ex wife. What a huge step for him! However, I cringed with Filomena's desperate plea for reconciliation. It certainly makes sense that the intense feelings of hatred came from a place of passion, but to expect a return to what they once had seems like an obvs impossibility. There's more healing to be done, but I'm eager for Luca and Emily to move on with their journey. I can't wait to find out what's next for them!

Nobody's Girl - Chapter Eight.

Fuck it, it's Friday, I'm feeling generous, have another chapter! Enjoy, besties!

Previous chapters - One Two Three Four Five Six Seven

Taglist - In the comments, please DM to be added/removed

Words - 3,145

Warnings - Adult content throughout, minors DNI!

Hundreds of times. Hundreds? She didn’t know why, when infidelity was infidelity, but having the assumption that he’d only partook of a few extra marital dalliances shattered by the fact that it had been over a hundred women throughout the eighteen-year span of his marriage, was suddenly so much worse to bear. Especially when he’d surmised it as “a few” when confessing that to her.  

Hundreds was far from few. 

Not really knowing what to do or where to go, she wandered through the rooms, hearing her name called eventually when she got to the sprawling lounge. 

“Dolly, hey. You alright?” Greta asked gently, placing a hand on her shoulder. She turned, the woman feeling her heart sink. “No, you aren't. Come on, come here.” She let herself be pulled into the hug, crying further, feeling tumultuous inside. “Scared, huh, that he’ll do the same thing to you.” 

“No... maybe... oh, god, I don’t know,” she sniffed, pulling back, thanking Greta for the handkerchief she offered. “He says it’s different with me, that he hasn’t cheated and doesn’t plan on doing so either. Am I stupid to believe that? When he told me he’d been unfaithful in the past, he left out the part detailing exactly how much. He said a few, Greta. Hundreds is not a few!” 

Her friend sighed through a sad smile, her eyebrows drawing up, eyes full of sympathy for the poor girl. “I can’t answer that question for you, toots. All I can say though is, and I dunno if this is wishful thinking or not, but maybe he’s got it outta his system now? He’s forty-three, more grown than he was back in his twenties when he and Fil got married. Maybe he just didn’t wanna scare you by being so candid with the exact number?”  

She was attempting her best to stick a dressing over her pain, and while Emily thought such charity was very indicative of Greta’s kind nature, it wasn’t what she needed. “Do leopards ever really change their spots?” 

Shrugging, Greta called upon a few examples. “Well, the man used to chain smoke like a chimney, but quit two years back since he said, and I quote, ‘I don’t think my chest is meant to fuckin’ rattle when I breathe’, which he noticed went away the less he smoked. S’why he always has the...” 

“Toothpick,” Emily finished for her, “to distract himself from wanting to light up. Yeah, he told me about that. It isn’t the same, though. Smoking is a habit.” 

“So’s fucking other women, dolly. Habits can be broken, if you want it badly enough.”  

Sighing, she looked down at her feet for a second, lips pursing as she twisted them from side to side, still under the duress of discomfort though her tears had finally stopped. “It’s the fact he glossed over it that bothers me more than anything.” Leaning to Greta, she kissed her cheek. “Thanks for being a good friend. I’m going to take a little walk; I need to calm down.” 

Her walk took her across the property over to a long line of trees, a dirt road that looked to lead down to a group of outbuildings. She’d have taken the lake, but she didn’t want to run into Luca on his way around it with the kids. Besides, she wasn’t ready to face him yet.  

It was conflicting to her, having virtually no temper, always preferring the calm approach regarding conflict and now being left with nothing but fury in her belly and the desire to slap his face for downplaying his infidelities. Why had he lied? If he’d opened up enough to tell her in the first place, be candid, then why was he hiding the complete truth?  

Her mind could only go to one place; the place of him knowing deep down, he’d probably do it again. That was, if he hadn’t already.  

Fear shunted through her veins like a freight train, the distressing thought of losing him because he couldn’t be faithful to her. The pain of it crushed her fragile spirit, and that was only in imagining what it would be like to discover his deceit. It flew in stark contrast to the fact that Emily well knew his gaze towards her was fonder than anybody else, save his children. Love came in at the eyes and took a path directly to the heart, and every time he looked at her, she felt it beam his adoration right into her chest.  

Truly, she had no reason to doubt his sincerity, and she honestly had believed him when he’d sworn he hadn’t ever been untrue to her. Funnily enough, she was perhaps the only person in his life who knew when he was lying. He didn’t do it often, but every time he did, his thumb stroked over the crucifix tattoo upon the middle finger of his right hand, as if silently asking forgiveness from god for his sins. It was a barely noticeable tell, but she’d picked up on it when witnessing him bullshitting people.  

Reaching the outbuildings, she saw that it had once housed a stable block, the structure now crumbling from rotted wood, in no fit state to house a living creature. It was a shame, she thought, imagining what it must have looked like back when it was built, which she guessed was likely in the eighteen seventies, going on the overall design of the property.  

He said he lost count when he hit triple digits. 

Filomena’s words smacked her sharply again, raking a hand through her curls as she sighed, kicking a pebble across the dusty ground beneath her feet. Would he, though? Was the man who was all hers truly looking to seek out an alternative to it just being him and her? The man who confessed his sins to her in the dead of night as they lay talking, truly, would he forsake the bond they shared for the dalliance with a warm body that was not hers?  

She’d truly liked to have thought she was much less naive than she had been in the almost six months she had been in his life for, learning from him how not to let anyone take her for a ride, learn how to be shrewder, wiser, less easy to manipulate. Why teach her to be anything else, if he indented to hoodwink her? Surely, the man would want her to remain the unworldly little waif who always put her trust in the wrong people, should he have planned to be deceitful to her?  

It didn’t make sense.  

A frown knitted her dainty features, turning to slope off back the way she’d come, her ears picking up on the sound of a cawing coming from one of the huge trees to the side of the path. Looking up, there upon the branches slowly becoming thicker with the lush green of spring, sat a pure white crow. She’d never seen one before, stopping to look up at the bird, its blue eyes staring back at her before it began to caw again, ruffling its feathers.  

A second bird then swooped down, its coal black wings wide, folding neatly as it landed beside its white counterpart, the creatures making soft noises of greeting to one another. She witnessed it, the little display of affection, the black one beginning to preen the white, gentle beak clicks sounding its contentment.  

They reminded her of she and Luca; the light and the dark, bonded effortlessly despite being so different.  

Walking back towards the house, she still had no idea what on earth to say to him when they came face to face, picking out the figure of Filomena still sitting outside, hearing the sound of the children screaming with mirth as they ran up from the lake. She thought he’d maybe gone inside already, but as she took the stone steps that led back up the rolling garden, she heard him shout behind her, telling Guiseppe not to throw rocks at his sister.  

She hurried her pace, wanting to move back into the house and avoid him, but that wasn’t easy when her man had legs longer than the average Derby winner. “Hey, where are you rushing to, amore?” 

The face he was met with took him aback, her expression hardened a little as her eyes darted and she dropped her chin. “Inside.” 

Of course, he persisted. “What’s wrong, huh? You’re not your usual self.”  

His hands prevented her movement, Emily pulling herself from his grasp, her hand moving to strike him sharply across the cheek. It was the first time she’d slapped anyone, and she hated it, especially watching the confusion and anger flit across his face, his mood darkening rapidly. “I never am when I’m lied to. A few, you told me of your affairs. Not over a hundred women, as I learned.” 

He bit his back teeth together, his head snapping to look up at the house, where Filomena sat, a very captive audience to it. “I told you not to listen to her poison, Emily. I explicitly told you that.”  

The fact he couldn’t meet her eye confirmed it. “It isn’t poison when it’s true though, is it? No matter how malicious her intent was. It’s still true, and you still tried to hide that from me.”  

Walking away, she was just stepping back into the house again when she heard Luca explode like a bomb, hurling insults towards his ex-wife in savagely delivered Italian, his fury let loose. “Excuse me, please can you show me up to the bedroom?” she asked Catherine, the housekeeper who had come with them, the woman nodding as she changed direction immediately.  

She looked relieved to be escaping the immediate proximity of the Italian hellfire being flung back and forth outside, Emily closing her ears to it as she trotted up the many steps comprising the marble staircase behind the woman who looked like she had seen the two people they’d left in their wake becoming furious with one another one too many times before.  

“End of the hallway, miss. If you’ll excuse me, I have to go and help chef prepare dinner.” Pulling her shoes from her slightly sore feet, she carried them while padding along the carpeted hallway, again studying her surroundings as she went, trying to take her mind off her current predicament.  

Entering the bedroom, her mouth fell open, the space absolutely beautiful. It was all art deco, the decadence actually very simply done, black walls with white mouldings and ceiling, the hardwood floor furnished with fluffy white rugs, and as Luca had already revealed, a very big four poster bed in the centre. Sitting on the edge, she fell back into the comfort of the fresh, white linen, her eyes picking out the details of the ornate moulding around the chandelier that hung above, glad she was surrounded by silence.  

Needing something to do in order to keep her mind occupied, she moved to where their belongings had been placed, Luca bringing very little with him since he of course already had everything he needed right there. She began to hang up her own items in the large, sparse wardrobe, knowing that she’d packed too much, remembering back to that morning when he’d told her that, too.  

Just as she was placing her jewellery away, her peace was disturbed by a tightly wound looking Luca, coming in and clicking the door shut behind him.  

“Emily, I’m sorry for what she said to you.” 

An interesting choice of words. “You’re sorry for what she said, but not the fact you tried to hide the extent of your philandering from me?” She spoke tersely, fingers untangling her multi-stranded pearl necklace. She knew she should have brought it up in a box as opposed to the silk bag she’d stashed everything in to save space. 

He moved to her, standing there in imposition, giving her no choice but to eventually look up at him once she’d finished her task. “Please, honey. Don’t let her get between us. This? It's exactly what that fuckin’ rattlesnake of a woman is lookin’ for.” 

She couldn’t believe her ears. “It might be what she’s looking for, I don’t deny that from what you’ve told me about her. She isn’t coming between us, though. I asked you straight up, how many times you’d been unfaithful to her and what was your reply? A few. A fucking few! Losing count when you got to a hundred isn’t a few, Luca. Jesus god!” 

Moving to the window, she needed space between them, irritated when he followed her. “Emily, just listen...” 

“To what?” she snapped, “more lies?” 

“I didn’t tell you ‘cuz I wanted to spare you it, the fuckin’ ugly truth of the man I was with her.” He reached for her cheek, stroking it, his chest a field of sharpened glass when she knocked his hand away. “I ain’t that man anymore, baby. Not now I have you.” 

Her nostrils flared, eyes fixing him sternly. “You still lied to me. I needed to know the whole truth, Luca.” 

“Oh, you fuckin’ did, huh?” he replied, his agitation winding once more, like somebody weaving thread into a loom. Why wasn’t the fact he wanted to be better for her enough?  

“Yes, I fucking did!” she yelled, tipping him to explosion. 

“What is it that you want me to tell you, Emily? You wanna hear it all, huh? How I was fuckin’ everything with a pulse from day one? You wanna hear how I took a waitress into the bathroom at my own wedding and fucked her over the sinks? Or how about when nobody could get a hold of me when Fil was in labour with Milania, because instead of bein’ a good husband and waiting outside for my first child to arrive, I was at a private sex club in Manhattan in the middle of an orgy? How about that, huh?” 

It hit her in cold waves, to hear of such behaviour, delivered so loudly too. He never shouted or went on angry tirades, and she hated bearing the brunt of it. It wasn’t her he was angry at, though, and she saw it so clearly. He couldn’t meet her eye, pacing slowly as he dropped his head and ran his hand over the back of his neck.  

She moved to him, reaching for his arm, stroking the lean muscle beneath the white shirt. “It isn’t Filomena you’re mad at, is it?” 

His eyes locked onto a point in the distance, jaw tightened, offering only silence.  

“Luca, you can’t make amends for how you acted in your marriage by being flawless in your relationship with me. And I love that you are, I believe you when you say you haven’t and won’t stray from me. I’m not the one who needs your apology, though. She does. She’s still hurting because you hurt her.”  

There it was, the truth his ego had successfully stuffed down for the last year, tried to mask behind the lie he told himself that his wife didn’t care about his infidelity when in fact, she did. She simply didn’t want to break her heart or her marriage by confronting him over it, until she was literally confronted by his adultery right there in their bed.  

He’d never be a good man, not truly. He was the head of an organised crime family, after all. He could, however, be better to the people who cared about him, though. Even if it was now in past tense. His pride still swelled, much too strongly to come out and tell Emily she was right in that moment, his eyes finally finding hers as he turned, taking her hands in his and squeezing them.  

“Gimme a minute.” Striding out of the room, he moved through the house, Emily looking down at the lawn below where Filomena stood, Luca joining her after a few moments.  

She turned around, her eyes glassy, looking up at the man who had torn her heart out, Luca opening his arms and wrapping her in a hug. He stroked her hair, kissing the top of her head multiple times as she wept against his chest, finally - and earnestly - delivering the words she’d so sorely needed to hear. 

“I’m sorry. For everythin’ I put you through. Wasn’t your fault, it was all me.” 

She cried harder upon hearing the apology, looking up at him, her eyes pleading as she stroked his face. “Then if you’re sorry, come back to me. Please. We’re you’re family, Luca. Send the girl packin’, let’s start again.”  

Her statement took him by huge surprise, seeing the sudden vulnerability in the woman so formidable, so embittered by her need to hurt him as much as he had her. It truly rocked him for a few seconds, letting out a long sigh. He covered her hands for his own for a moment, removing them from his cheeks. “No, Fil,” he spoke, shaking his head, “my future is with her now. I’ve been angry at myself all this time, not you, and you needed to know that. That’s all. I ain’t ever gonna be no one else’s but hers.”  

“She won’t love you like I do,” she tried, Luca shaking his head again.  

“She won’t, no. She loves me differently, holds me fuckin’ accountable, makes me wanna be better. I shouldda been better to you, though. Just know that I know, but we ain’t tryin’ again. It’s not what I want.” He walked away then, knowing she likely wouldn’t take his rejection lying down. It wasn’t the woman she was. The man he’d become, though, was somebody he intended on remaining, going back into the house, finding Emily still within the bedroom, and taking her in his arms to plant a passionate kiss upon her mouth.  

“What was that for?” she asked, a little breathless from it, her cheeks flushing.  

He rested his forehead to hers, hands stroking her neck. “For being you, cara mia. I ain’t ever gonna be a good man, but I will be to you. Because of you.” His mouth met hers again, fingers beginning to tease the buttons of her dress undone, their need and longing for one another flickering into greater heat, his big hands grasping her narrow waist and carrying her to the bed.  

“I’m sorry I lied to you,” he began, lips planted kisses on her neck, “and I’m sorry I yelled at you.” His lips rained hot over her breasts, pulling her brassiere from her after flicking the clasps undone, “and I need you to know how much I fuckin’ love you.”  

“Don’t tell me,” she gasped, hands all over him, desire charging over her skin. “Show me.” 

Oh, how he showed her. 

[zablife]

@runnning-outof-time K, I'm so pleased you enjoyed the fic, esp knowing I captured the vibe of the room. The photo you provided was such amazing inspo, I instantly found myself transported! It wasn't hard to imagine a wealthy American family treating Tommy with disdain. In my mind, a failed business deal led to the sudden change of opinion as Tommy had outlived his usefulness to her opportunistic father. Luckily, Y/n followed her heart ❤️ And you're so right, Jack had plenty to say about that! In the crack fic version, I picture them chasing one another around the fountain like the scene from Tommy's wedding 🤭Tysm for trusting me to write your request and leaving these lovely comments! After all my dark!Tommy, it was a nice challenge to portray him as a lovesick suitor for a change 😍

Lovefool

Tommy x gf reader

Summary: An infatuated Tommy finds his gf in a state of confusion, leading him to question her devotion. Will she say she loves him and not another?

Author's Note: Requested by @runnning-outof-time who asked for a story set in the room pictured above. Image credit goes to K for that lovely image in the center of the moodboard!

The soft glow of the fading afternoon sunlight gave an ethereal quality to your family’s drawing room, the pale ivory walls bathed in swaths of peach and gold that welcomed Tommy in despite his late arrival.

Arms full of flowers and lips overflowing with apologies, he carefully approached the center of the room. As he waited to see how you might receive him, his eager blue eyes roved the intricate scrollwork of the plaster moldings which cascaded from the ceiling and walls like clouds come down from heaven.

The high shine of the polished parquet floors reflected the warmth of the sun’s radiance upon your skin, bringing his gaze back to you and the sight left him enchanted. He stuttered out a quiet breath in appreciation of your angelic form in a white satin gown and matching gloves. But as Tommy moved to place a kiss upon your cheek, you shrunk way from him, an unreadable expression crossing your face.

Bringing the bouquet to your nose, you inhaled their rich perfume deeply, a hint of satisfied contentment settling over you. It was not to last. Tommy watched as your mood soon shifted like the wind, your hands relinquishing the colorful blooms moments later to a nearby table.

With an aching dread growing in his chest, he noted the distance between you as you retreated to the semicircular alcove of tall windows. Without so much as a backward glance, you walked into the light, leaving him far behind.

It was not the welcome to which he'd grown accustomed. The evenings of months past were spent intertwined on the sofa as you read from one of your favorite novels, stopping for him to brush the tendrils from your vision so you might continue or share a bit of gossip with him.

An uncharacteristic air of despondency seemed to take hold now as you looked out into the open space before you. Many moments passed in silence, your arms clutched tightly against your body before you finally proclaimed, “You shouldn’t have come tonight, Tom.”

“Why? Are you expecting someone else?” he asked with a half hearted laugh. A harsh gulp followed your silence, afraid to hear the answer.

“As a matter of fact, I am,” you confirmed, pulling back the heavy brocade curtains. Your eyes scanned the front lawn for movement, sensing only the shadows passing over the hedgerow.

As the sun dipped in the sky, a single beam of sunlight graced the ornate marble fountain. The light danced across the rippling water, twinkling back at you in an array of glittering gold and you smiled to yourself as you thought of the magic this particular hour held. In the days after your introduction to Tommy and his love of horses, you would often stroll the grounds near the stables before dinner. However, your joy was quickly stolen by thoughts of what your father had said at breakfast.

Tommy sighed heavily behind you and you glanced over your shoulder to see him slowly approaching.

“Tommy, please, don’t,” you shook your head softly as he began to reach for you. 

“What’s wrong, eh?” his tone was gentle, but the concern he held was evident by the crease of his brow as he noted your puffy lower lip, swollen from your incessant biting. He’d come to notice it was a nervous habit of yours, albeit one that made you even more attractive. He would have kissed your ruby red lips if you hadn’t looked so distressed.

“Father says I ought to consider my options for the future. I’m afraid that no longer includes you,” you confessed flatly, afraid you’d lose control of your emotions if you didn’t hold tightly to the facade of well-mannered elegance.

Tommy's jaw clenched involuntarily at the thought of your father's duplicitousness, but also chided himself for being so thoroughly distracted by the mess Michael had made of everyone's finances recently. Pinching the bridge of his nose, he attempted a calming breath before asking, “And what of your mother?”

“Mother says I shouldn’t bother with someone who doesn’t deserve me,” you answered without considering how hurtful your declaration sounded. As soon as the words left your mouth, you recoiled slightly at the harshness. Eyes flicking up toward Tommy’s crestfallen face, you added defensively, “You’ve been away for weeks now with so few calls."

“I see,” Tommy uttered on a low breath. It was true the board meetings and paperwork had taken more of his time than he would have liked. “There were things I had to take care of,” Tommy began to explain before you cut him off.

“Yes, I understand, but that doesn't change the fact that mother says you’re not serious about me," you argued.

Fidgeting with your gloves you admitted that your parents had invited a handsome Bostonian named Jack Nelson to dinner one evening. With their blessing he'd taken you to the pictures and then dancing. Soon he was a regular guest at your parents' home, usurping Tommy's place at the table.

Tommy felt all the air leave the room as he recognized the name of the rival gangster. They'd seen one another two weeks earlier in London and exchanged cryptic remarks about his penchant for blue bloods and aspiration which made perfect sense now.

“You’d consider Jack Nelson’s proposal?” Tommy winced as he recalled the unsettling curl of the man's upper lip when he smirked.

“I don't know, I’m lost in confusion,” you cried, eyes brimming with tears. 

Tommy ran a hand through his hair, unable to believe what he’d just heard. Surely you had to know the difference between his love for you and whatever false promises Jack had made.

The sound of tires crunching against the gravel drive signaled an end to your discussion and you quickly dried your tears. Chin raised high, you prepared to take your leave when Tommy reached for your arm.

“Don’t go,” he pleaded.

"But...my parents...they're expecting me" you stuttered, lost in the deep blue pools of his eyes so close to you they now threatened to swallow you.

Tommy's palm caressed your arm, warmth spreading up you like the last ray of sunlight fading from view. You couldn't help leaning into his touch, needing to hear what he would say.

“I'm sorry I wasn't here, but you have to know...I haven’t spent a day without thinking about you,” he confessed, eyes glistening hopefully.

A single tear cascaded down your cheek at his admission, savoring the words you'd longed to hear even though you knew they came too late.

Tommy's heart clenched in his chest at the sight of it, silently willing you to listen a moment longer. "Does he know?"

"Know what?" you whispered.

"That you like simple daisies most? Or that you're allergic to lavender?" he asked in a pinched voice, a lump growing in his throat at the thought of your hand slipping from his and losing you forever.

"Oh, Tommy..." you sighed, realizing he'd recognized your habit of pressing the delicate white flowers into your books when he brought them to you and how you sneezed when you'd passed the rows of purple blooms your mother planted in the garden. "I...I don't think anyone ever thought to notice," you admitted sadly. Your comfort had never been a priority to anyone before.

Tommy brought you in close to his body, stroking your back gently as he spoke. "You're the most precious thing to me in this world. How could I not have noticed?"

With that you began to weep openly and he embraced you tightly, his lips meeting yours in a passionate kiss.

"Everything's going to be fine, darling. I'll speak with your father and make things right. I love you," he swore to you with such earnestness you didn't doubt him for a moment.

"And I'm yours," you promised breathlessly. "I love you, Tommy."

Wiping your tears away with pad of his thumb, Tommy's grin widened and his eyes twinkled with mischief as he added, "Then let's go tell that Nelson bastard to fuck off!"

"Yes, let's!" you agreed with a giggle. And you exited the drawing room hand in hand.

----------------------------

Tag List:

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@kpopgirlbtssvt

@tommyshelbysrighthand

[zablife]

@look-at-the-soul Oh, Mar, this was lovely 🥰 You have such a knack for writing the softer, domestic side of Tommy! The rare glimpses of Tommy and Charlie in canon tell me he would absolutely do something like this to calm his childrens' fears. And what a beautiful way to remember his mum as well, by including her in the tale! Tysm for sharing this and bravo to @blondie-22 for crafting such a gorgeous moodboard to accompany it!

Hola, Mar! ❤️❤️.

I'm here to sending you a request. Tommy telling his kids (it can be both of them, or just Charlie or just Ruby) a story about his mother. We know he didn't have good memories about her especially because what happened, but maybe, he remembered something maybe a bedtime story (or a recipe, music, etc) and he tells them about her. The kids didn't know her, but after that moment maybe they can imagine how their grandma was ❤️.

My dear Flor @justrainandcoffee thank you so much for sending this request!!!! I knew I had to make it extra special since it’s part of my Grandma’s series 👵🏻♥️✨ so I didn’t want to rush it. This made me go back in time to our endless sleepovers, it made me think of her. I hope you enjoy this 💕

Special thanks to @blondie-22 for creating the BEAUTIFUL moodboard, like always you capture the exact essence of the story 🥰

Edit: A/N part of this story is inspired by a song called Toy Soldier by Martika

Word count 1,172

Toy Soldier

The bedroom door cracked louder than Tommy expected, he cursed himself internally because it was late and the house was quiet, the last thing he needed was to wake up his wife.

But she was already up and leaned against the window, the shadow of her frame only visible under the moonlight. Frowning, he stopped taking off his suit jacket midway when he noticed something was under the blankets of his bed.

“Why are you up?” He whispered.

“Charlie’s having trouble with bedtime.” She replied back. “He thinks there’s a monster under his bed.” She then added but also gave him a warning look so he better wouldn’t laugh it off.

“There’s no such thing.”

“They wanted to sleep here for reassurance.” Y/N placed her hands on his chest to lean in for a quick kiss. “He was so scared last night.”

“Daddy?” Ruby’s small voice broke the silence of the room.

Charlie stirred and his eyes fluttered open.

“Go back to sleep.” Tommy urged them.

“There’s a monster under my bed, I heard noises.” Charlie assured him.

Sitting next to his son, Tommy caressed his blonde hair in a loving way.

“I can assure you there’s no monster under your bed, son.” Tommy explained in a calmed tone.

“But I heard…”

Tommy shook his head gently, knowing it was a good time to share a fond memory that suddenly hit him hard. After being pushed back to the farthest place of his mind for years…

“You’ve nothing to worry about,” Tommy assured his boy, then turning to face Y/N he invited her over the bed, “you want to hear what really is?”

“I do Daddy.” Ruby replied while Charlie nodded.

“It’s the toy soldier.” Tommy assured his kids. Then clearing his throat he continued. “All toys come up to life around three in the morning, when the house is quiet and you and your sister are sleeping, they start playing by themselves. But when you wake up, they stop because you must not see them.”

His voice and the fabulous tale he was narrating had both his children and Y/N captivated.

“But how do you know?” Charlie asked trying to understand.

Tommy raised his eyebrows, taking his time to explain it properly.

“Well, that’s ‘cause when I was about your age, I heard noises in my room too.”

Y/N noticed the emotions shining in his eyes and his voice.

“And you had toys like mine?” Charlie asked but Tommy shook his head.

“No, I had a horse made of wood, uncle Charlie made it for me.”

Ruby was in awe. “Like a real horse?”

“Yes but a small one, I carried it everywhere.” He relaxed against the pillows, Y/N knew his childhood wasn’t easy, he was forced to mature earlier than other kids.

“So one night I was terrified and went to sleep with my Mum and she told me it was my toys playing.”

“And she told you how did she know?”

“No, she didn’t.”

And both kids went on to ask a million more questions about their grandma, a loving figure they never got the chance to meet. To Tommy this meant much more than he could put into words, he went on to describe her features, mannerisms and and few secrets, so his kids could feel her close to them in some way.

He didn’t know, but through them and their curiosity, he was healing a part of his broken heart by remembering the good moments, her legacy.

Y/N could see the way their imagination was running wild trying to put a face for such mysterious woman, trying to think of what was like to be on road forever stuck in a caravan as they said, asking how she could ride bareback a horse without falling.

Tommy rarely talked about his mother, it had always been something that was buried deep inside his heart, a very sensitive topic, Y/N knew how much it had hurt him to lose her at such young age. Not having her when he needed her the most definitely left a permanent scar in his heart. Y/N wondered how different would Tommy be under another circumstances.

And by the way he described his mother, Y/N realized he looked so much like her instead of his father, which given the circumstances, was a blessing. Although, thanks to Polly who took the role as a mother figure for the Shelby siblings, they had managed much better than if Arthur Sr. was in charge.

“Why can’t we play with them?” Asked Ruby with a deep frown.

“Because after playing with you all day, they get to work by playing, the soldier gotta watch out the fort right?” He stared at Charlie. “And your doll has to drink some more tea, ey.”

Then, a gentle smile played on his lips.

“So you gotta go to sleep to let them play, so they can enjoy their own time.”

“That’s why I heard noises.” Charlie seemed to think about it for a second.

“Yeah.” Tommy winked at them.

“But my teddy stays with me all night.” Ruby stated.

“Hmm he’s gotta take care of you.”

“Can we stay here? So they can play?” Charlie’s eyes sparkled.

Y/N nodded feeling touched by the way Tommy managed to help Charlie leave his fears behind. Loving the way his innocent mind was processing everything.

“Of course, now just let’s all squeeze in together.”Tommy proposed. Feeling Y/N’s hand touching his hand, he looked up at her.

Soon both kids were fast asleep. The story about their toys playing and making noises was the explanation they needed to hear, to feel Tommy’s reassurance.

Y/N observed her husband taking off his clothes, hiding the gun in a drawer and coming back to bed. Thinking how of course not everything is as it should be, and the kids would realize of the truth one day…but she was more than happy to enjoy that little moment in their own little bubble while it lasted.

“That was beautiful.”

He nodded in agreement. He rarely allowed himself to have moments like these, but he felt the need to open his heart with his own happy memory with his mother, gone too soon. She had missed a lot of important events in his life that he was determined to try to be there for his children.

And at least, he could honor her memory by sharing some stories like the one where the toys start playing after midnight.

Turning off the lights of their bedside tables, Tommy drifted to sleep right away and saw the image of his mother wrapping her arms around a you her version of himself protectively, answering all the questions he had about how could his horse toy not move during the day, or how would drink water if the river was so far away… and he saw her in his dreams smiling adoringly at him before kissing the top of his head.

Tommy Master list

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[zablife]

@peakyswritings Tysm for your kind words, Reb! I have to give credit to K for her lovely photo as the inspo here. That stunning visual helped me build their world. And I loved imagining soft!Tommy in this fic as I usually portray him much darker 🤭 I'm glad you liked this swoon worthy side of him and didn't find it too OOC. Ty for pointing out that S1 Tommy is actually quite romantic at heart! I agree that this charm would be irresistible so, trust me, Y/n def marries him!!

Lovefool

Tommy x gf reader

Summary: An infatuated Tommy finds his gf in a state of confusion, leading him to question her devotion. Will she say she loves him and not another?

Author's Note: Requested by @runnning-outof-time who asked for a story set in the room pictured above. Image credit goes to K for that lovely image in the center of the moodboard!

The soft glow of the fading afternoon sunlight gave an ethereal quality to your family’s drawing room, the pale ivory walls bathed in swaths of peach and gold that welcomed Tommy in despite his late arrival.

Arms full of flowers and lips overflowing with apologies, he carefully approached the center of the room. As he waited to see how you might receive him, his eager blue eyes roved the intricate scrollwork of the plaster moldings which cascaded from the ceiling and walls like clouds come down from heaven.

The high shine of the polished parquet floors reflected the warmth of the sun’s radiance upon your skin, bringing his gaze back to you and the sight left him enchanted. He stuttered out a quiet breath in appreciation of your angelic form in a white satin gown and matching gloves. But as Tommy moved to place a kiss upon your cheek, you shrunk way from him, an unreadable expression crossing your face.

Bringing the bouquet to your nose, you inhaled their rich perfume deeply, a hint of satisfied contentment settling over you. It was not to last. Tommy watched as your mood soon shifted like the wind, your hands relinquishing the colorful blooms moments later to a nearby table.

With an aching dread growing in his chest, he noted the distance between you as you retreated to the semicircular alcove of tall windows. Without so much as a backward glance, you walked into the light, leaving him far behind.

It was not the welcome to which he'd grown accustomed. The evenings of months past were spent intertwined on the sofa as you read from one of your favorite novels, stopping for him to brush the tendrils from your vision so you might continue or share a bit of gossip with him.

An uncharacteristic air of despondency seemed to take hold now as you looked out into the open space before you. Many moments passed in silence, your arms clutched tightly against your body before you finally proclaimed, “You shouldn’t have come tonight, Tom.”

“Why? Are you expecting someone else?” he asked with a half hearted laugh. A harsh gulp followed your silence, afraid to hear the answer.

“As a matter of fact, I am,” you confirmed, pulling back the heavy brocade curtains. Your eyes scanned the front lawn for movement, sensing only the shadows passing over the hedgerow.

As the sun dipped in the sky, a single beam of sunlight graced the ornate marble fountain. The light danced across the rippling water, twinkling back at you in an array of glittering gold and you smiled to yourself as you thought of the magic this particular hour held. In the days after your introduction to Tommy and his love of horses, you would often stroll the grounds near the stables before dinner. However, your joy was quickly stolen by thoughts of what your father had said at breakfast.

Tommy sighed heavily behind you and you glanced over your shoulder to see him slowly approaching.

“Tommy, please, don’t,” you shook your head softly as he began to reach for you. 

“What’s wrong, eh?” his tone was gentle, but the concern he held was evident by the crease of his brow as he noted your puffy lower lip, swollen from your incessant biting. He’d come to notice it was a nervous habit of yours, albeit one that made you even more attractive. He would have kissed your ruby red lips if you hadn’t looked so distressed.

“Father says I ought to consider my options for the future. I’m afraid that no longer includes you,” you confessed flatly, afraid you’d lose control of your emotions if you didn’t hold tightly to the facade of well-mannered elegance.

Tommy's jaw clenched involuntarily at the thought of your father's duplicitousness, but also chided himself for being so thoroughly distracted by the mess Michael had made of everyone's finances recently. Pinching the bridge of his nose, he attempted a calming breath before asking, “And what of your mother?”

“Mother says I shouldn’t bother with someone who doesn’t deserve me,” you answered without considering how hurtful your declaration sounded. As soon as the words left your mouth, you recoiled slightly at the harshness. Eyes flicking up toward Tommy’s crestfallen face, you added defensively, “You’ve been away for weeks now with so few calls."

“I see,” Tommy uttered on a low breath. It was true the board meetings and paperwork had taken more of his time than he would have liked. “There were things I had to take care of,” Tommy began to explain before you cut him off.

“Yes, I understand, but that doesn't change the fact that mother says you’re not serious about me," you argued.

Fidgeting with your gloves you admitted that your parents had invited a handsome Bostonian named Jack Nelson to dinner one evening. With their blessing he'd taken you to the pictures and then dancing. Soon he was a regular guest at your parents' home, usurping Tommy's place at the table.

Tommy felt all the air leave the room as he recognized the name of the rival gangster. They'd seen one another two weeks earlier in London and exchanged cryptic remarks about his penchant for blue bloods and aspiration which made perfect sense now.

“You’d consider Jack Nelson’s proposal?” Tommy winced as he recalled the unsettling curl of the man's upper lip when he smirked.

“I don't know, I’m lost in confusion,” you cried, eyes brimming with tears. 

Tommy ran a hand through his hair, unable to believe what he’d just heard. Surely you had to know the difference between his love for you and whatever false promises Jack had made.

The sound of tires crunching against the gravel drive signaled an end to your discussion and you quickly dried your tears. Chin raised high, you prepared to take your leave when Tommy reached for your arm.

“Don’t go,” he pleaded.

"But...my parents...they're expecting me" you stuttered, lost in the deep blue pools of his eyes so close to you they now threatened to swallow you.

Tommy's palm caressed your arm, warmth spreading up you like the last ray of sunlight fading from view. You couldn't help leaning into his touch, needing to hear what he would say.

“I'm sorry I wasn't here, but you have to know...I haven’t spent a day without thinking about you,” he confessed, eyes glistening hopefully.

A single tear cascaded down your cheek at his admission, savoring the words you'd longed to hear even though you knew they came too late.

Tommy's heart clenched in his chest at the sight of it, silently willing you to listen a moment longer. "Does he know?"

"Know what?" you whispered.

"That you like simple daisies most? Or that you're allergic to lavender?" he asked in a pinched voice, a lump growing in his throat at the thought of your hand slipping from his and losing you forever.

"Oh, Tommy..." you sighed, realizing he'd recognized your habit of pressing the delicate white flowers into your books when he brought them to you and how you sneezed when you'd passed the rows of purple blooms your mother planted in the garden. "I...I don't think anyone ever thought to notice," you admitted sadly. Your comfort had never been a priority to anyone before.

Tommy brought you in close to his body, stroking your back gently as he spoke. "You're the most precious thing to me in this world. How could I not have noticed?"

With that you began to weep openly and he embraced you tightly, his lips meeting yours in a passionate kiss.

"Everything's going to be fine, darling. I'll speak with your father and make things right. I love you," he swore to you with such earnestness you didn't doubt him for a moment.

"And I'm yours," you promised breathlessly. "I love you, Tommy."

Wiping your tears away with pad of his thumb, Tommy's grin widened and his eyes twinkled with mischief as he added, "Then let's go tell that Nelson bastard to fuck off!"

"Yes, let's!" you agreed with a giggle. And you exited the drawing room hand in hand.

----------------------------

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