Am I finally getting to years old requests? Yes. Will these people ever see them? Unlikely.
Possible TW: vague description of breaking fingers, and obviously female being slapped by male.
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A slow blink. Her eyes were wide, head turned to the side. Her cheek stung and tears pricked her eyes, but she refused to cry. Instead, she stood her ground and turned her head back, head held high and eyes glaring at the male who assulted her. Her fists were clenched, blunt nails digging into her soft palms fiercely.
She didn't even hear the shouting, until she was pulled behind an angry ginger, who had the opposing male by the tie. It took her a few seconds to notice most or her team was here and it made her almost chuckle; of course one of them was watching. They always were.
"Does it hurt?" Furuhashi's voice sounded as emotionless as usual, as he tilted her head slightly so he could assess the damage to her skin. She always found it amusing how gentle they were with her. Almost like she was a porcelain doll, and they were afraid she would break if handled. Really amusing once you saw how they played.
"It stings, but it'll stop soon enough," she put on a brave face, not wanting to break down completely. Especially with that bastard still there. She could hear Yamazaki shouting at the guy, as well as Hara's usually carefree voice, uneasily heavy as he spoke. Matsumoto was trying to disfuse the situation before it got out of hand and they were caught. As for Hanamiya and Seto, well, they weren't here, but she was sure they would be soon enough. And when they arrived, it would all be over for the guy who dared to lay a hand on the Kiridai basketball teams Manager.
Seconds passed, the silence only disrupted by the sound of threats being made. Soon enough, even those two went quiet and it was then that she knew he had arrived. By now, it was only her, her team and the moronic male who had not only tried to ask her out, but had gotten angry when she'd declined and backhanded her.
"Well, well, what do we have here?" Hanamiya's voice held its usual coolness, a slight mocking tone to it as usual. To any who didn't know him, and even some who did, it would be hard to guess just how upset he truly was, but beneath that teasing facade was a monster ready to annihilate its prey, slowly and painfully. "Not only do you think it's okay to ask our manager out, but you also lay a hand on her when she refuses? Are you just outright stupid or do you a death wish?" The male would sneer, rolling his eyes as he stalked up to the opposing male.
Normally she wouldn't watch when they attacked others, after all she wasn't the biggest fan of violence, yet she couldn't keep her eyes off what was about to happen. "There's a lot of people I despise, yet you've just made the top of the list." A low chuckle. "You should know no one touches our manager, no one apart from us." The possessiveness would scare most people, but for their manager, it made her feel safe and secure. Protected.
"What should we do with you?" A rhetorical question, no need for any reply. And luckily none was given, as the next thing heard was a soul-shattering cry of agony, as the males fingers were bent back in one foul swoop and easily broken. The hand he had used to assault their manager was now deformed and causing their victim excuriatinv pain, something no one at the scene felt any sympathy for. Not even the manager herself, who disliked violence.
"Consider that a warning. If you as much as look at her again, I'll make it so that you'll never be able to walk another step in your pathetic existence, do I make myself clear?" Hanamiya didn't wait for an answer, the males pitiful whimpers and snivelling beginning to get on his nerves. "Let's go. We can get an ice pack for your face at practice."
As they walked away from the scene behind them, Kirisaki's manager could only think one thing: how lucky she was to have her boys.
Summary: What would a man do to protect his family, wealth, and business? Marry his daughter off to Birmingham’s most ambitious: Thomas Shelby.
Word Count: 1302
Warnings: N/A
A/N: Sorry about that! I had a busy weekend and then my Google doc got deleted, so I put off rewriting this.
Parts: i | ii | iii | iv | v
The following days felt more familiar to you. You and Elliot shared laughs over afternoon tea. You got to flaunt a couple new outfits you'd custom-ordered from a tailor in France. There was games of "Are you There, Moriarty?" and "Charades" in the parlor with Elliot and friends.
You hadn’t dreamt much of what your life would be like as a wife or lady of the house. As you looked at your friends laughing and drinking by the fireside, you knew this is what it ought to have been.
His cool gaze caught your eye from the mantle. That odd photograph of you and your husband was a cruel reminder of your reality. For as long as he was gone, you would hold on to this pretend life. You'd keep it safe, tucked away within a dollhouse and its fictious walls.
With your mind preoccupied, the night seemed to carry on without you. No one missed a beat. The laughter and splendor carried on, until you parted with your friends at the front door.
"Bye Mary! Goodbye, Sylvie! Rupert, get them home safe! Help poor Mary get William inside!" You waved.
You were always a little sad when they left. A warm hand squeezed your shoulder and you leaned back into his warmth. He was your reminder that you were never left alone.
There was a fine line that would were dancing with Elliot. There wasn't room in a marriage for more than two people. Flowers compete with weeds. There can be no harmony there. For as knowledgeable about gardening as you were, you'd forgotten that those flowers need tending and weeding to survive.
You stepped out from his embrace reluctantly. You cast a bashful look to the floor and then up where Mary's scrutinizing gaze was. There was no hiding this from Thomas, but you'd taken safety measures.
"To bed, then. Goodnight, Elli. Thank you for keeping me company and watching out for me while Thomas is gone." You had barely talked of Tommy since Elliot had been here. Around Mary though, you felt like it was necessary to clear the air.
You two walked up the stairs. Elliot was always one step behind making sure you never lost your footing. At the top, you turned to him and gave him a hug.
"Thank you. Really."
He smiled," Always, (Y/N/N). You have always been the one."
Your cheeks burned with anxiety and embarrassment. A part of you yearned to let old feelings come forward, but you knew that was not okay.
You smiled and nodded. You backed up toward your room down the hall. "Goodnight, Elliot," you called," I will see you in the morning."
You nearly turned and ran into your room. You groaned. These were the problems in your life. Had you been able to make all of the decisions, none of this would have ever happened. You could have avoided all of this all together.
You sat by your vanity for some time. You ran the brush through your hair over and over. It be came a source of calming. You went to bed that night with much still on your mind.
You leaned over and blew the candle out and nestled back into your pillows.
You counted sheep.
You made plans for tomorrow.
You thought happy thoughts.
You twiddled your thumbs.
Finally, something happened.
He hadn't knocked. You could sense he had been hesitant to answer. After all, he had inferred earlier that you were always supposed to be his.
He was agile in the night and you wondered how he could see with the majority of the moonlight blocked by your curtains.
"Elliot, I've been thinking about it too…" you sighed deeply. He would surely be gone tomorrow when you told him you couldn't betray your vows to Tommy.
He said nothing but continued moving. You paused," Elliot, you can't be here.. I know. I never wanted this to happen. I have been scared to be alone. You made me feel safe here…"
You vomited all of that out until silence seeped in between you. For once, it was uncomfortable.
" I'm sorry Elliot." Anxiety rose like hot bile in your throat. You understood that he was probably disappointed and jaded. "Elliot?" The figure was still.
Your breath hitched. The hairs on your neck pricked. Something wasn't right.
The figure lurched forward. Your bed creaked and groaned under its weight. You thrashed wildly. The sheets tangled around your ankles holding you hostage.
Meaty hands clutched your body tightly. You attempted to scream but it was strangled by a pillow and then two hands around your throat.
You bashed your hands against the stranger. If you were to die, it would not be without a fight.
Your lungs burned. You ached for air. His hands mashed up against your trachea. For a moment, you felt disconnected from your body. Almost painless. You felt the bruises. You felt the pressure. It was all just numb and fading. You squeezed your eyes shut willing a different picture. If this was your last image, you didn’t want it to be a grim shadow.
Weightless.
You opened your eyes as the crushing pressure released and the shadow was replaced by dim moonlight. You heard the crash of a body.
"Never fuck with a Shelby." His malice was charged.
You watch transfixed on the revolver in his hand. There was a click, silence, and then a shot rang out into the night. You were frozen there. You hadn't even felt his hands on you. Your body was shaking but you couldn't tell if it was him or your nerves.
Then his voice brought you back," (Y/N).. Hey, I need you to look at me. (Y/N/N), I've got you. I won't let anything happen to you." You were not used to such softness. It looked weird on him.
You blinked a couple times. Hot, fresh tears stained your face. Tommy pulled you into his arms. He held you close as you sobbed into his shoulder. You were finally safe enough to crumble.
You hadn't a clue about the time, but it felt like forever that he comforted you. You steadied yourself and sat back.
He kneeled at your legs and looked up at you. His eyes didn't miss a detail. You sniffled and brought a sleeve to your nose. There was no time for propriety right now.
"Y- You came back." You choked out. Your voice was hoarse and dry. You wondered if you'd always feel ghost hands wrapped around your throat.
Thomas reached up and brushed a tear from your cheek." You're my wife. I'd never leave you." He may have had many faults, but his loyalty wasn't one.
You tried to look over to the corpse, but Tommy made you look back at him. " I don't understand.. what did I do?" You began to sob softly into your hands.
Tommy took a seat beside you and pulled you into his embrace. He smoothed your hair over your shoulders and planted his lips on your head." I'm sorry,(Y/N/N), I should have listened to you. I'll never leave you alone like that again."
"He didn't come.." you whimpered.
"Come again, my sweetheart?" He stiffened.
"Elliot.. he was here. I thought it was him.. why didn't he come?" You cried numbly.
Despite a searing-hot anger that bubbled underneath the surface, Thomas listened to you babble on about how he was here. He should have heard. Something didn't sit well with Thomas.
As he held you, there was a lot about his trip and what your father had been scared of that were just now starting to make sense.
They had made a fatal error in their pursuit. They'd fucked with you. They had fucked with Mrs. Shelby.
Summary: All debts must be repaid. After being rescued by Tommy Shelby time after time, you've come to return the favor years after.
Word Count: 2028
Warnings: Physical Abuse. Smut!
A/N: This is a twist on a request. There will be a second part.
The floor was cold against your burning cheeks. Hot blood roared in your ears and drowned out the sounds around you. The disorientation garbled up his words and droned out the smooth jazz in the background.
You hadn't the strength to get up this time.
A hot spurt of iron metal spread across your tongue. You snaked a wrist across your face. A busted lips. A bloody nose.
You began to pick yourself up off the floor. You made mental notes of the aches and pains across your body. Before you could clear your position, Sabini brought a perfectly polished shoe to your gut.
You doubled over coughing blood onto the stone.
“You worthless bitch. When I’m done with you, no one will recognize you.” The Italian gangster spit at you.
A demented smile tarnished with blood formed on your lips. He thought he could beat you down with words. The world had been cruel to you many times before this. Sabini was just a snake with no venom - scathing but not lethal.
The look on his face darkened. Your eyes momentarily shut to prepare for a painful blow.
The door burst open with brute force. Whoever interrupted threw Sabini’s balance off. You contorted your body to take the blow to your ribs.
Screaming ensued and the liquor table was toppled. You curled up tight. Trying to block out the noise and the progressing chaos, you squeezed your eyes shut. There were a few different scenarios that could play out. You knew that each one eventually ended with you in a ditch somewhere.
“You’ll never lay a fucking finger on her again. Y’hear me?” He had to wipe the spit from his lips after the worst exploded from his mouth vehemently.
You felt hands on you. Tight, firm, but caring. You finally opened your eyes to see Arthur pulling you from the ground. From what you could make out, Sabini had taken your place on the floor.
You moved your eyes to his aggressor. Tommy Shelby.
You hadn’t seen him in a while. Perhaps, it had been since Birmingham. He looked good. Strong jaw. Aged eyes. It appeared even his hair was peppered now. Why did Tommy Shelby look better than you?
Your flesh burned with insecurity. You had never meant for anyone from your hometown to see you like this. When you leave Birmingham, you are meant to do better for yourself. You had been chasing that for years. You’d chased it right into Sabini’s lap. You had ended up covering bruises and cuts with fox coats and tailored dresses.
“Next time, I’ll bury your body with lead.”
When you met his gaze, you almost expected a change in him. There was nothing. No pity. No sympathy. It was just Tommy. Unflinchingly cold.
“Let’s go Arthur. Get her out of here.” He gestured with his cap toward the door. John loomed in the dimly lit hall clearing their exit. You didn’t remember walking out. In fact, you were sure your feet never touched the ground.
You came to consciousness in a dim room. You felt battered and raw. Your muscles were tight. Your skin burned with movement. Had you a choice, you would have chosen death.
You swung your legs over the side of the bed and braced yourself for heaviness. The floor felt like pin needles on your soles, causing you to sit back. You gave a frustrated whine and slapped your hands on the bed.
“And where exactly are you off to with a split lip and bruised ribs?” He stood in the doorway. The flickering light in the hallway betrayed his soft gaze. He held a bowl of water with a cloth draped over the side.
You turned your eyes away as he came to sit next to you. You angled yourself toward him; your body resisting the simple movement.
He strained the cloth gently and dabbed at your mouth. Your hand caught his wrist. Your pupils dilated and breathing ragged. Your defenses flared up at the fresh pain. He watched you tenderly. His hand never dropped. He assessed everything with careful calculation. You’d never know what he was thinking.
You composed yourself enough to press his hand back to your skin. You let him clean you.
“Thank you, Tommy.” You looked away. It was hard enough knowing you needed help; it was even harder being saved at the very last minute.
He shrugged,” Your mother would never have let me live it down if I didn’t bring you home.” There was history there. Mum was always sweet on Thomas. She believed he meant good by Birmingham. You had seen Tommy at many different stages, but never close enough to be affected.
“So I am to go home? To Birmingham.” You murmured softly. You’d escaped Birmingham once. You had never planned on going back.
Thomas feigned an amused look. “Yes. That cannot be negotiated.” You nodded. Traces of a smile crept onto his face.
Placing the bowl on the nightstand, he leaned back and assessed the true damage. His thumb turned your head left and right, until he had you facing him. His thumb brushed your bottom lip so softly. You closed your eyes relishing such an unfamiliar touch.
You had to know it. You had to know all of it. You pulled him by his neck toward you. You didn't care about the consequences. You just knew you wanted a taste of his warmth.
There was an exquisite balance of smoke and whiskey on his lips. You relaxed into the motions. His fingers expertly disengaging the buttons on your dress. Your tongue dancing with his. Him pushing you back onto the bed. Your hands snaking his shirt over his head.
You momentarily forgot you looked scraped and broken. You forgot that you were someone's punching bag. You were reminded when Tommy hesitated.
The look in his cerulean eyes hardened. There was a bitter taste on his tongue from what Sabini had done to you.
You pulled him back down in haste. You kissed him with passion to make him forget the events that had transpired. You kissed him so hard you felt you'd bruise.
His hand trailed up your thigh. His index traced a knotted pattern up to your pelvis. Your lips quivered at the temptation. Thomas hooked a finger around your underwear and discarded them with a quick snap.
It didn't take him long to slip his hand between your legs. He pressed his finger into the cleft of your lips. You tipped your hips up to force his touch. He traced his finger down to your entrance and smiled at the warmth and wetness.
He moved his thumb to your clit and began in gentle, show circles. You elicited a moan that carried into a pleasurable shutter down your spine. Your head rolled back, allowing Tommy to plant kisses on your exposed neck. His teeth nipped and his lips replaced the stings with warmth.
Your hands bawled up the sheets when his tongue locked down your cleft. You sucked in a a sharp breath. The anticipation was killing you.
"Thomas… please!" You begged.
His tongue pushed through, swirling around your throbbing clit. Bucking your hips, you moaned. The pressure building with the pleasure. You writhed as his tongue toyed with your entrance. He swished his tongue up and down, flicking it to and fro. He pushed a finger inside of you and gently added another until you became breathless.
It all became too much and you felt your heart racing wildly. He sped up and tempered his force. You cried out with guttural pleasure. Your legs were violently shaking. Finally, you collapsed into the sheets.
Tommy climbed on top of you," I'm not done with you, sweetheart."
His length caressed your inner thigh. You met his gaze as his cock slipped between and met your entrance. You tensed up causing Tommy to reach down and play with your clit. Relaxing into his touch, his cock slipped in. You let out a delicate moan. His stroke began deepening. Slow. Powerful. He drove his hips into you, building you up to your next orgasm.
His own rapture built. Blood rushing through his veins. He lost a little control as his endorphins began to rush. The two of you began your steep ascent.
You gripped at his hair. He nipped at your ear. His tightened his grip around you and drove in long, heavy strokes. Thomas let out a gritty moan that sent you into your final organ.
He met your gaze once more and he rolled next to you. You laid there hesitating your next movements.
Thomas rolled to his side. He studied you for a moment before reaching his finger to pull your face toward him. He raised a brow at you. Your blank face was replaced with a smile. He began playing with your hair, which made you close your eyes.
You didn't open them until daylight streamed through the curtains. You blinked sleep away. Your hands searched the space next to you. There was a cold absence where Thomas had been.
You frowned. It was silly to expect a man like Tommy to stay. He had never been good at staying. You knew.
You collected yourself quietly. You tucked in the sheets, buttoned your dress, and fussed with your hair in the mirror. There was nothing to be done about the bruising or the cuts. They'd fade in time.
You left the room, shutting the door behind you. There was the quiet murmur of voices below and you followed them.
"Good morning."Arthur bellowed behind a cloud of smoke. You gave a curt not and smiled. Thomas turned and gave you little acknowledgment. It would be a lie to say it didn't sting.
It was for the better. You descended the rest of the stairs," When do I leave?"
"Right now." Tommy said, a cigarette between his lips. He lit it quickly and motioned to the door. "You'll ride with me."
Everything happened quickly and silently on your part. Arthur and John had things to tie up in London, so it would be the two of you.
You tried to divert your attention to the scenery. You ignored the sting in your heart. You had been nothing to Sabini. But you had traded one nothingness for another. You sighed.
"I wouldn't do it if I didn't have to." He kept his eyes trained on the road.
Whatever did he mean? You tried to think realistically, but half of you wondered if he meant he wouldn't be so detached if he didn't have to. Foolishness aside, you replied," It's alright, Mr.Shelby. I know it's for the best."
And you two rode in silence. Both of you lost in your own thoughts until the soot and cloud of Birmingham was surrounding you.
Tommy pulled the car up to a small red door embedded in a stone wall. You wasted no time jumping out. The door propped open and an aging women came out. There was a holler of praise and thanks. You fell into the longing embrace of your mother.
"Oh Thomas, we're in your debt!" The women cried.
You stood back accepting your place in this: the runaway.
Tommy looked at you and smiled at your mum. "Nonsense, Ms.(Y/L/N), I couldn't let anything happen to (Y/N). I'm happy to see her back home."
"Where she belongs!" Your mom reminded her. You gave her a smile and bit back your own disappointment.
There were a few more words exchanged. You watched in a daze. Your eyes hovering on the motor vehicle that would eventually take Tommy away.
Your mother turned to go into the house leaving you briefly alone with him again.
He looked at you with a guarded look that would never betray his emotions. You wished you had that composure. You hugged yourself, " Thank you. For saving me. I'll repay you."
"That's not necessary." He interjected. "Just stay out of trouble or else I'll have to come back."
He began to walk away toward his vehicle. You watched him go, wishing he would come back.
Summary: What would a man do to protect his family, wealth, and business? Marry his daughter off to Birmingham’s most ambitious: Thomas Shelby.
Word Count: 906
Warnings: N/A
A/N: My work has always been for fun and it has been a release for me. I'm sorry for the hiatus and wait, but I hope you enjoy.
Part I Part II Part III Part IV Part VI
Light saturated the once dark room. Crystal shards, the pieces of a once beautiful vase, cast a rainbow on the wooden panels. This was the evidence of a night that would have rather been forgotten.
You groaned. Could time momentarily pause? A break is all you required. Perhaps, it could allot you just enough time to wake up refreshed. Perhaps, you could have just enough time to put your life back together.
Instead, you rolled over and took control of time yourself. You pulled a pillow over your head and squeezed your eyes shut.
The ahem of one Madame Mary caused you to lift your head.
"Ah, Mary, how can I assist you this morning?" You cast her a tart smile.
"I'm too clean up the glass, ma'am."
Short. You were almost a tad disappointed that Mary would not stoop to your exhausted pettiness. Very well, she could remain cordial and monotone.
"Thank you, Mary. If you would be so kind, throw the shades over the window before you go." Your wrist rolled as you motioned to the window.
Before you could roll back over, Mary interjected," Mr.Shelby demands your presence in the dining room, madame. Breakfast is being served."
Relieving some of your sudden irritation with a sigh, you smiled," Right away. Thank you, Mary."
You took your time in the bathroom. You looked worn and brittle. It was off-putting. What would mother say?
You refreshed yourself with some makeup and a freshly pressed dress. It would take a lot more than last night to make you admit physical defeat in front of Thomas.
You burst into the dining area with exuberance. You wore a convincing smile that fell flat when you saw you were the only one in the room. So much for surprising the hell out of Thomas.
Once again, he'd drained the air from her balloon. She couldn't very well be smug and throw her "beauty sleep" in his face if he wasn't there. After all, she hadn't seen him since she left him in his study.
A maid flurried in to collect the remnants of Mr. Shelby's breakfast.
"Excuse me, where is Thomas?" You asked kindly.
The young lady jumped into position. She blushed,"Ma'am, Mr. Shelby is preparing the car to leave."
Leave? Where on earth could he be going?
"Shall I fetch you breakfast, Mrs.Shelby?" You dismissed her with a wave.
He stood next to his 1927 Bentley running discourse with a man you'd never seen. He was greying and had leathery skin. He had a distinct scar running down his brow that you could make out.
Thomas dismissed him when he saw you appear from the house. You couldn't make the license plate of the car he drove, but you made sure to watch him as he faded away down the drive.
"Going on a trip, darling?" You were short and sour. You felt so out of control with him - hot and cold, unyielding to his stormy weather. All he had to do was apologize. Make amends. Come talk to you, it was as simple as that.
"Darling? I rather like that." He smirked. It was as if nothing rocked his composure. You had done it before, but you wished you didn't have to work so hard. He was a lot tougher than those preppy lads they bred in Highbury.
You tried not to betray your aggravation.
"I'll be back in due time. Do take care of yourself, love." He squeezed your shoulder gently.
You looked in disbelief. You couldn't even utter your protests.
He fixed his hat on his head and slid onto the upholstery.
"Where are you going, Thomas?" You dropped your pride and haughty attitude. You'd just gotten married and your husband was leaving with nare a destination named.
Thomas began his vehicle and smiled at you calmly," I'll be back."
"When? What will I do if the doors are left open again? What if I see that man again?" You shot back rapdily.
His smile faltered. Confusion and then clarity crossed his face like the passing of a shadow. "You mean Elliot? And what rapidly.
You paused," The cellar doors.. That was how Elliot got in.. But no.." You looked around the yard suspiciously. " I saw something. A man perhaps when I saw Elliot off. I didn't really see -"
"So, you didn't see a man? Will you do everything to hinder me?" Thomas shook his head disconcertingly.
Immediately, your temper burst. "Must you always take me for a child, Thomas? Forget it. Leave. I don't care if you come back at all." You turned on your heels and stalked off.
"Remember - no more Elliot." He called after you. He calmed shortly thereafter. He hated that you brought the childish behavior out of him. He watched you with a heavy gaze.
You'd only press the issues more if he told you. Instead, he stepped out of his vehicle and lent a serious message to the stable boy.
You watched as Thomas Shelby drove away.
Everyday, you'd check back at the window to catch a glimpse of him. He never came.
One week.
Two weeks.
Three.
Finally, a car pulled into the drive.
You stood with a simper.
He met you at the door with a cavalier grin. "I told you that you'd forgive me."
You grabbed him by the hand," Elliot.. you know I could never be away from you for too long."
Summary: It’s been awhile since high school and awhile since you’ve seen your brother’s best friend, Steve. A wedding is just the excuse to bring you together.
Word Count:
Warnings: None I think.
A/N: So it continues!
Part 1 Part 2
__________________
"You know he's not with her right?" Sam glanced over at you from the driver's seat.
You were daydreaming - more like day-nightmaring - off into the California hills. "Hm?" You mumbled half-heartedly.
"Steve. He's not with Sharon." He put that out there bluntly and softly. It may not have sounded like it, but Sam knew Sharon's ploy. " If it makes you feel any better, it makes me sick thinking of them together. "
A smile played at the edge of your lips. Was Sam always this forthcoming before? He was usually so kind and accepting. Although, Sharon did know how to rub people the wrong way.
"It wasn't Sharon and Steve. I just think that wine got to me, mixed with the seafood, and yeah…" you mused nonchalantly.
Sam laughed, "Sure. And it's Sharon OR Steve. He doesn't associate with her. But he's just too nice to say anything."
"Yeah. He's too nice." You took to agreeing to stop the conversation. You weren't in the mood to excuse Steve's silence.
Sam pulled into the drive and helped you out. He got you looming in the doorway while he looked for the light switch.
"Up. Up, Sam! Just guide your hands on the wall. " You laughed as he tripped and cursed under his breath.
Once the house was properly lit, he helped you up the stairs. At the top, Sam put his hand on your shoulder," Just have faith. "
You smiled at him," Sam, I'm fine. Honestly. I'm going to take some anti- nausea, but I'll be okay." You played off the heaviness looming over your heart.
He nodded and began his descend to the guest house. "Alrighty then, goodnight, (Y/N). If you need anything, give me a ring."
You smiled after him,"what do you mean? If you need anything, you give me a ring. On my left hand!" You beamed after he gave you a cheeky smile over his shoulder.
Marrying Sam? It hadn't crossed her mind before, but it wasn't a bad idea. You had history. You had experiences. You were connected. And you were just trying to distract yourself from the pity that was Sharon and Steve.
You hobbled to bed after washing up and tucked yourself in. Against your better judgement, you prowled social media to figure out the history between Sharon and Steve.. You were good at hurting your own feelings.
An hour or so later, the rest of the pack shuffled in. Everyone drifted in different directions.
Steve could hear the ladies coming back from the kitchen and snuck upstairs with his to-go bag.
He crept quietly to your door and knocked softly. He waited patiently until he heard the girls coming upstairs. He slipped in and sighed in relief. He wasn't trying to spend anymore time with Sharon.
He squinted through the darkness. Adjusting to the dim light, he called out, "Hey, (Y/N/N), you awake? I know you weren't feeling too good, but I brought you dessert. It's your favorite.. chocolate lava cake."
He came upon your bed and realized how peacefully you were sleeping. His heart quivered. He smiled admiringly at your face and reached to tuck some hair behind your ear," Sleep tight, beautiful. I'll put it in the fridge for you tomorrow."
He took your dessert back downstairs only to run smack dab into Sharon.
Summary: What would a man do to protect his family, wealth, and business? Marry his daughter off to Birmingham’s most ambitious: Thomas Shelby.
Word Count: 1822
Warnings: Smut.
A/N: What better way to announce my return than the third installment of Vide Cor Meum! A little present on the Eve of Christmas Eve or if you’re ahead of time than me, a presnt for Christmas Eve!
Part I Part II Part IV
Somewhere behind the roaring blood in his ears, her screams were gargled. He could taste the ash. His skin, though perfectly untouched, was seared. Somewhere in the smoke and the fire he could see a looming figure. A corpse with burnt flesh and singed hairs. So much death. No matter how hard he fought to move, a brute force kept him chained. The figure loomed so close. The smell of charred skin.
Then the crushing weight. Rubble, ash, and earth caving in.
Air flooded his lungs. A burning sensation erupted in his chest. His hands gripped her so tightly. His eyes jolting open.
He died. You saw him die.
Your breath caught in your throat. Your heart thudding against your ribcage violently. You looked on in horror. He was staring right at you. For a moment, you weren’t sure if it was Thomas or some other specter.
“Thomas?” You whispered.
He blinked, focusing on your silhouette in the moonlight. He let go of your wrists.
“What? … I wasn’t here.” The great Thomas Shelby hesitating on his words as if he couldn’t believe them.
You rubbed your wrists with soft fingers, holding them to your chest,” No, you were with ghosts.”
Thomas slid himself up to the headboard, bringing you straddled on his lap. He took your hands, gently turning them to assess the bruises on your wrists. A bile rose in his throat.
“It’s fine.” You tried to snatch your hands back.
He held your hands firmly, thumbs on your palms. Sad blue eyes assessed the damage he’d done,” You aren’t a ghost.”
You hadn’t the faintest idea how to handle this. You couldn’t be in love with Thomas Shelby. Thomas Shelby couldn’t look so defeated or vulnerable. Yet, somehow, in that room, both those aforementioned statements seemed to be true.
“You stopped breathing.” You frowned.
Thomas scoffed,” You had your chance to get rid of me.”
His refusal to acknowledge that you’d saved him offended you. After all, you could have let him die. You would have his money. This home. You would have been free.
Your face soured,” You’re my husband.”
Thomas snaked a hand through his disheveled hair. “Yeah?” He rumbled. “I thought I was your prison warden.” He smirked.
You bit back the smile that crept up to the corner of your lips. You hid it with an eye roll,” You aren’t getting out of this that easy, Thomas Shelby.”
You could easily blame saving him on the simple desire to make his life a living hell. You weren’t going to make marriage easy for him. Besides, you were forced to walk down a church hall in a white dress all painted up like some doll. You weren’t going to let him get out of their life sentence without a little suffering.
He laughed,” Yeah. So that’s how it’s going to be, Mrs. Shelby?”
Your momentary laughter ceased the moment Mrs. Shelby came out of his mouth.
The title shouldn’t have shocked you as it had. You didn’t expect to go around being called Mrs. (Y/L/N). You expected to be addressed as your married name. The realization caught you off guard. You were a Shelby now. All of Birmingham would know who you were. Anyone who crossed you, crossed the clan.
You had become part of the Peaky Blinders.
You smirked,” Oh, so behind closed doors you don’t mind taking orders from me..”
That vulnerable, hollow man had disappeared. The man you recognized appeared as if he’d never been gone. Amusement flickered across his face like light from a flame. He smiled, his hands resting on his chest.
“In the bedroom, Mrs. Shelby, I’ll be making the orders.” He grabbed your wrists, pulling you closer toward him.
Your smile turned into a wince. Pain pulsed from the pressure on the bruises.
A new pressure replaced the pain. You blinked confused at his lips on your skin. He brushed them softly over the faint bruises. His touch warm. Soft.
You’d subconsciously leaned forward, closing the remaining distance between you. His blue eyes flickered to your face. His hand reached for your cheek, his thumb brushing over your soft skin.
You pressed your hands on his chest for support. You could taste the smoke on his breath. Anticipating the warmth of his lips, your lips parted. You closed your eyes giving more power to your sense of touch.
You were surprised when a calloused thumb swept across your lips. You opened your eyes. Disappointed flooding your system. You nearly sank just before he pulled you closer by your waist.
“You’re going to be trouble.” He whispered against your lips.
Your lashes fluttered as electricity pulsed through you. “Mmm..” You hummed against his lips longingly. “Why is that?”
He grinned,” Do you seduce every man you detest?”
Your jaw flexed. You sat back,” You going to sit and talk about how much I hate you or are you going to stop wasting our wedding night and take what I give you?”
He swept you under him in a blur of movement. Your legs secured around his waist. His hand roamed up your thighs, under your silk nightshirt. His grip tightening at your hips, he pulled you farther under him.
“I’ll take what I want..” His voice firm, authoritative.
You had no doubt Thomas Shelby was used to getting what he wanted. You were inclined to prove him wrong, but you were slick between your legs. You were wanting. You’d never entertained a man like this before tonight. Call it primal desire, but you going to get fucked. From what you’d heard, Thomas wasn’t a disappointment.
“Well,” You mused indignantly.” What are you waiting for? Permission?”
The laugh that followed made you quiver. It was a rare occasion to hear him laugh for most. With you, you knew he couldn’t help himself. You amused him far more than he would ever care to let on.
Tommy leaned in, kissing you passionately. His tongue flicked across your lips hungrily. You could scarce keep up. You felt unprepared. Similarly to the rest of the world, you were two steps behind Tommy.
His mouth kept you engaged whilst his thumb stroked between the cleft of your lips. You whimpered into him. He leaned back. You watched with fervent need as he swept his tongue up his thumb tasting you.
“I’m tempted to make you wait.” He purred.
“No, Tommy, you better not.” You whined.
He grinned smugly down at you. You knew he would never let this night go. From now on, whenever you were so inclined to mention your detest of him, he would remind you of this night.
He relieved himself of his drawers. His thumb rubbed circles over your clit applying various pressure. You bit back the pleasure pooling within you. You tried to cut off a moan, but it escaped.
That elicited moan drove Tommy further. Your back arched when he slipped a finger inside you. He moved you to the edge with expert fingers. You moaned, fisting the sheets as the pressure in your core built. Your eyes closed shut. Your head spinning.
With a rush of pleasure, you cried out. Your body hit the mattress after contorting with pleasure. Sweat beaded on your forehead. You kept your eyes closed, reveling in splendor of your climax. You attempted get control over your breathing.
A smile spread across your face, as you finally looked at Tommy. He was smiling down at you. Mischief lurked somewhere in those eyes of his.
“I’m not done with you, sweetheart.” He hummed.
You weren’t sure you could go again. The thought of it caused your core to tighten and something in your stomach flutter. You felt limp and weightless.
He crawled on top of you. His hard length touching your thigh. The breath in your throat caught as you watched him crawl over you like a lethal predator. He was breathtaking.
The head of his cock toyed with your clit. Your body trembled. Tommy gently pushed your legs apart, allowing him more movement. He aligned himself with you, gently moving himself inside you. You gasped. The width unfamiliar, but arousing. You wrapped your arms around his neck, bringing him closer. He leaned downward and into you. Another gasp at his length, but he moved expertly to make it comfortable.
Your hand ran the length of his back as he worked himself. You felt the muscles in his back contract. His moves were short, slow, and rhythmic. He was working toward relief as your own pleasure built up. Each thrust. Each minute shift in his position. You could feel the heat.
His fingers found your clit. You moaned beneath him. You writhed with pleasure. You were scared it would come and go too quick. The pressure was too much. You gripped him tightly within you. You squeezed and held on. He helped ride your second climax.
Your head was spinning. Your muscles relaxing. You could still feel his length thrusting into you. Gentle. Slowly. You watched him. You reached a hand up to wipe away the sweat building on his forehead and slipping down his neck. You pushed back his hair.
You were hungry for more. You wanted more of that ecstasy he made you feel. The quick flood of endorphins. The oxytocin. You felt like you were doped up. It felt good. He held your chin and placed a kiss on your lips.
You crawled up into him, pushing him back. His hands were steady on your waist. You pressed your hands on his chest leading his back to the mattress once more. One hand left your waist to grab the length of his cock. You reached, taking it from him. You stroked it leisurely, causing his head to roll back. You aligned yourself and sat back.
He released a guttural moan. You gently lowered yourself further, moaning with the pleasure that came from him filling you.
He regained his composure to grab your hips. He lifted you up and down. You cried out as you bounced. Gaining control of the rhythm, he let you ride him. His hands cupping your breasts. He rolled your nipples between his fingers. Your back arched. Your hips churned wildly.
“Come on, love, say my name.” His hips bucked into yours. He drove himself harder into you.
You cried out unaware of how to utter anything coherent. You had no control of your speech. All you could focus on was the driving force of his cock inside you and how hungry you were for him.
Thomas’s hands were firm. He held you to him as he thrust inside you,” Scream my name, angel.” He grunted.
Then came a great bang. The sound of silver plates clattering on the floor.
“’(Y/N)!” A drunkard bellowed. “(Y/N), I know you’re in there!”
Summary: After a family meeting, the boys tease Tommy about marriage. Aunt Polly predicts he’ll find Mrs. Thomas Shelby soon.
Word Count: 2678
Warnings: Smut and cursing.
A/N: I honestly hope you guys enjoy this random idea that kept me up until 4 A.M.
The Shelby family remained lounging in the wager room after a family meeting. You sat on the stairs below Ada, who was plaiting a braid into your hair. You considered yourself fortunate that the family thought so highly of you. You were neither related through blood nor marriage, but they’d kept you close nonetheless.
Polly had been worried about the recent deals Tommy had been making. She’d done some digging with the help of Ada and the Londoners could not be trusted. You’d only mildly helped by pretending to be a flapper girl interested in a couple of “businessmen”. You were entirely too good at conversation.
The family meeting turned into quips. John had begged the point no one else could have gone undercover except for you because all the other girls were married women; all except Ada, but John claimed she was still a grieving widow.
Arthur took a stab at Tommy’s love life. He claimed he’d never find a woman at the rate he was aging.
“It’s not his age,” Ada roused from the stairwell,” it’s his goddamned moodiness.”
Laughter bellowed from everyone but Tommy, who was eyeing you with a look that didn’t forebode well with you. However, you’d never had trouble staring danger in the face. A smile tugged at the corner of your mouth and you turned your eyes away.
“Is it because you can’t get a girl off, Tommy?” John prodded him. “Or is it too small?” He grabbed at his junk. Ada and you groaned.
Polly slapped John,” Shut it, John. Your brother will find a wife in due time.” She glanced over at you, which caused you to look down at the floorboards. “Won’t you?”
Tommy didn’t even flinch. Arthur piped up before Tommy could reply,” She’s gotta have something no other woman has.”
“What, like three tits?” John leaned in. Esme seemed unamused from her seat next to John. You couldn’t help but laugh. Laughs were not in short supply around the family.
Tommy shook his head. “Enough,” he looked at his brothers,” it’s time to get back to work.” A short silence filled the air aside from a match sizzling. He took a puff before pointing the rollup at Arthur,” You go with him. The threat should be made by the real thing. Remember, no loose ends.”
Ada squeezed your shoulder,” All done.” You smiled, trailing your hand down the braid.
“Thanks, Ada.” She gave you a wink and excused herself. She had to pick up Karl.
Polly looked at Thomas,” What’re you gonna do?”
Tommy smiled,” I’m going to get ready for the races.”
Polly sighed in irritation. “Take (Y/N) with you Tommy. She might bring you some safety.”
You rose from your spot and straightened your skirts. You didn’t dare protest Polly’s wishes. Tommy didn’t scare you, but Polly was nigh close to God in her ways.
You skirted passed Tommy,” I’ll be ready in an hour. Don’t be late.”
Tommy was prompt. On the way, you listened to him describe the plan. There was no need for you to seduce any information out of anyone and he certainly didn’t want you to using any of Lizzie’s tactics. He wanted this to be a peaceful meeting, but you knew to always be ready for any violence. It followed Tommy like a loyal dog.
“I suppose you’ll just want me to play a broad on your arm.” You smiled sarcastically.
“There’s not a chance in hell I could get you to stay quiet.” He gave you a knowing look. Sometimes, it shook your core to know Tommy knew you so well and accepted it.
“You wouldn’t like me otherwise.” You turned away, your eyes focusing on the passing vendors.
“Hey,” He reached over, his index finger guiding your chin back toward him,” just don’t say anything that will get you in trouble.” His thumb brushed your lower lip.
You pushed his hand away, a devilish smirk on your lips,” Like the kind of trouble I got in with you?”
There was a dangerous flicker in his eye,” Yes, that very kind.”
You pulled up without further guidelines. You took him by the arm, your hand resting delicately on his bicep. The two of you gliding up stairs and down halls. You mapped every turn and exit in your head for a quick escape.
You made sure to smile generously at patrons and other ladies alike until you arrived at a guarded balcony. You were briefly stopped until the man sitting at a lounger saw Tommy. Tommy smiled smugly at the guard who tried to send him away.
Lighting a cigarette, Tommy took a seat on a wood-woven couch. The cushions were lavishly comfortable and you took a moment to delight in the luxury.
“What can I do for you, Mr. Shelby?”
You watched the man speaking with a careful eye. You never trusted the people Tommy dealt with; you figured they all wanted something more from him and that something more was often his life.
“Your friends – Allred and Hammond – can’t be trusted, Mr. Coleman.”
The man shifted uncomfortably in his seat. He dismissed the string of ladies around him. You could tell the man was unsure of your position, but he dismissed your presence and looked back at Tommy.
“I’m afraid I don’t know what you mean.”
“He means anyone who crosses a Shelby is going to end up with lead in their head.” You held Coleman’s gaze with careful confidence.
You felt Tommy’s hand on your shoulder. You didn’t regret your words, but you knew how much peace with this man meant to Thomas. You didn’t back down.
The man grinned,” Where did you find this one?” He ate up your looks with his ravenous eyes.
Tommy smiled,” I found her in a whorehouse.”
You managed a friendly smile.
His face fell. He leaned forward, his elbows propping him up. “Allred and Hammond couldn’t be trusted with a simple alcohol smuggle. They’re too greedy. They’d double cross any man if there was a better deal offered to them.”
Thomas leaned back. He listened intently as Coleman spilled the intentions of the three gentleman. He claimed to be against double crossing Tommy and tipped him off to a Mr. Keller who had spoken to himself, Allred, and Hammond. The stranger wanted Tommy dead and the two goons – excluding Coleman – were willing to do it for a handsome sum.
You sat with a hot bile rising in your stomach. Rats the lot of them. Tommy was running a legal company nowadays, yet he still managed to get caught up in this mess.
Tommy nodded. “I can expect you to uphold the end of your deal.” Smoke drifted from Tommy’s nostrils. The man nodded obediently.
Tommy’s smile was confident, yet stoic. “It’s been a pleasure, Mr. Coleman. I’ll see you soon.”
All had ended well according to you. No guns. No fist fights. Not even a stain on your champagne gown.
“You could have caused a nasty fight.”
“You could have offended me.” You looked over at him with indifference.
“He was looking at you the wrong way.”
“I thought it only mattered if someone looked at Tommy Shelby the wrong way.”
His lopsided smile assured you that you amused him. You wondered where amusing him got you all these years.
“The only person who’s allowed to look at you that way is me.”
Your eyes raised in certain shock,” Says who?”
He pulled up to your house,” Me.”
You exited the car on your own. “I don’t obey the likes of you.”
“You don’t obey anyone.” He called after you.
“That’s the point.” You smiled over your shoulder. You finally opened the door after fumbling just a moment with your keys. In the dim lighting of your foyer you turned and waved goodnight to the man leaning against his car.
He had his hands in his coat pockets.
“Better see your way home, Mr. Shelby, before you catch a cold.” You hung in the doorway.
“Can’t see in this fog.” He cocked his head to the side, giving you an imploring eye.
“That’s why you had headlights.” You quipped.
He nodded. “Fair.” He began his walk toward you, first motioning toward the lights,” They’re broken though. I’d never make it.”
You rolled your eyes. “You could just ask to stay.”
“That would imply I want to stay here.”
“Do you take me for a fool, Tommy?” You looked up at him as he stopped in front of you.
He looked down at you. His eyes danced between yours. He brushed some hair behind your ear,” You? Lady (Y/L/N) of Birmingham?” He smiled,” Never.”
You let him in against your better judgement. Or perhaps, you let him in because you hadn’t the heart to tell him no.
“Lock up behind you.” You left him hanging there with a playful smile on his face.
You no sooner reached the stairs when he pursued you from behind. His hands met your waist. You closed your eyes and let him pull you in.
“I thought you’d last until we made it up the stairs at least.” You teased.
A low hum sounded in your ear as his lips pressed against your neck. You managed to get away from him, your hand pulling his along up the stairs.
It didn’t take long for him to get you on the bed. You had barely enough time to get your heels off. Your leg lifted to his side. His hand slid up your hosiery. His eyes warm and his breath steady. His brows twitched into confusion for just a moment.
“What’s this?” He looked at the dagger attached at your thigh. “Perhaps ladies fashion isn’t so frivolous. God knows what’s underneath.”
“Lingerie usually.” You winked.
“That’s just as dangerous.” He undid the sheath from the garter and tossed it away.
“ Mmm.” You purred in his ear.
His hands carried on up your thigh. He held you there, his lips leaving a trail blazing up your neck. He nipped at the hollow and you let out small intermittent moans.
He slipped his hand between your thighs. His thumb swiping across the cloth of your undergarments. You writhed underneath him, physically begging him to bring pleasure. He smirked against your neck as you bucked toward him. “I promise not to keep you waiting too much longer.”
He undid a lace at the side of your underwear. He discarded them with ease before returning to you attentively. He caressed your delicate skin before pressing the pad of his thumb against your clit. He massaged circles to elicit pleasure that spread from your pelvis to sound from your mouth.
Your breathing labored. Your hips swayed to get closer to him. He smiled down at you,” Patience. I want you to enjoy this.”
“You’re torture.” You managed through your breathing. You attempted to keep yourself grounded, but all you could think about was his hands.
Slick and ready, he slipped a finger into your core. You felt yourself shiver from delight. His thumb still rubbed and flicked at your clitoris. All these years, his animalistic grace made you wonder how well he was in bed. You weren’t disappointed.
The physicality with him made you painfully aware of just how connected you felt with him. It made you face that yearning and that core desire. You could see him smiling with his own pleasure. He’d made you feel a lot of ways, but none of them made him so excited as the pleasure and vulnerability you expressed now.
He thrust his fingers gently and tenderly. You clenched around him willing him to get you off. You hadn’t known you needed this until now. You were sure you’d be driven insane if he didn’t get you off soon.
His talented hands, confident and masterful, took what they wanted. Your hips circled brazenly on his fingers. You panted, feeling yourself rising with unbearable pressure.
“I want you to feel me. Understand, I’ll be the only one to move you to the edge like this. I’ll be the only one you think of, (Y/N).” His frank and calm voice hardened your nipples. You ached in your chest and your core.
The tension in your core built with great intensity. Your legs trembling. He massaged you tactfully and deliberately. His breathing shortening with his excitement.
“Come now, (Y/N). Give it up.” His voice strong and demanding.
Your knuckles whitened as you grappled at the sheets of your bed. Hot and searing you felt the pleasure ripple through you. With a hoarse cry, you climaxed over his fingers. Your core quaking violently. The blood in your ears was pounding and you felt disoriented. A strange haze clouding your mind.
You felt content to lay there forever. Your clit swollen and sensitive. Your slit trembled as you watched his unbutton his shirt and throw it to the side. His tweed pants easy coming off. You felt your throat constrict with a hot yearning which pooled in your lower stomach.
You thought it impossible to desire someone as ardently as you wanted him now.
He slipped his drawers down. He moved over you with a panther-like elegance. His hand gripping your waist fervently. In a swift and breathless motion, you felt yourself spin in the air until he was under you. You could feel the length of his growing hard against your back.
Even from such a position of authority, you still felt yourself under his steely gaze. His blue eyes pierced your soul in unfathomable ways.
You leaned down; his lips plump and soft. He allowed the tenderness, despite his cold and demanding ways. You leaned forward just enough to let him guide his cock to your slit. You quivered knowing the imminent feeling of him in you.
Tommy’s hands were rough against the silk of your skin. You leaned back onto him. You took his length with a hungry eagerness. Your neck bared as it tilted back and a silent moan parted your lips. You rode his length in such a breathless rhythm. A mist of perspiration dewed your skin.
His fingers tickled your skin as they trailed up and down your sides. His thumbs causing your nipples to prick at a single touch. He fondled you with delicacy.
He couldn’t take his eyes off of you.
You placed a hand on his chest to steady yourself. Tender muscles contracted urgently against his cock. He bucked into you with primal power. You cried his name out. Succumbing to yet another orgasm, you leaned into him. Electricity crackled between your skin.
He kissed your shoulder gently. The two of you fell into a comfortable position. The both of you catching your breath.
“You should have worn a less lethal dress.” He huffed.
“You should have left while you still had your wits about you” You leaned over, your hand resting on his chest.
A chuckle rumbled deep in his chest. He leaned up to kiss your forehead. You rested your head on his chest. You closed your eyes and synced your breathing to his. His fingers caressed your back affectionately.
“I know you don’t have three tits.” You opened one eye in confusion. “But you’re much more special than any woman I have ever met. You have no equal.”
“You’re my equal, Thomas.”
You could feel him smile. “Could I persuade you to be Mrs. Thomas Shelby?”
Your head perked. Your eyes searching his for some dark humor. He laced his fingers with yours. “I already told you no other man could pleasure you. I won’t stand for another man to touch you or have you. That means if you ever plan on orgasming at the touch of another, you’ll have to marry me.”
“You didn’t have to threaten my pleasure to get me to say yes.”
He grinned.
“I’ll be Mrs. Thomas Shelby, but don’t think I’ll be easier to handle.”
He pulled you in,” I was hoping you wouldn’t.”
He kissed you passionately. You nestled in to one another before sleep took you.
Summary: What would a man do to protect his family, wealth, and business? Marry his daughter off to Birmingham’s most ambitious: Thomas Shelby.
Word Count: 2760
Warnings: N/A
A/N: I hope you enjoy!
Part II Part III Part IV
You threw a smile over your shoulder as the two Carrol brothers said their goodbyes and promised to be back tomorrow. You waved and closed the door behind you. Before turning to face your father, you adjusted your dress and put on a straight face.
You took a seat across from him. You pressed the warm cup of tea to your lips. Your father gave you a peculiar look; you smiled at him with your eyes. He folded his newspaper and set it on a silver tray standing by.
“Have fun in the gardens?” He inquired.
You nodded, playing with the hem of the white tablecloth. You were always entertaining neighbors. Where young, single girls lounged about, young, single boys came to seek fun.
“Emma and Jane truly are wonderful company.” You took a bite of a biscuit.
He sat back in his chair,” Yes. Well, we have business to discuss.”
Your brows furrowed. Business was usually left up to him and his board. You couldn’t even pretend to know what this was about.
You remained quiet and let him collect himself. You wondered if someone had died or maybe one of your sisters had had another child you were to be the godmother to.
“You’re going to marry Thomas Shelby.” He stated firmly.
Your head tilted forward. You gave your father a look of disbelief. You expected him to start laughing and reveal his big joke. Instead, he held his good posture and the look of solemnity.
“The hell I am!” You protested.
“You are of age, (Y/N). I’m not waiting for either of the Carrol boys to ask for your hand. Besides, you have a duty to this family.” He took a drink of his tea.
“Is that what you told Cornelia and Victoria when they were getting married?” You glowered.
The dynamic between you changed. It was no longer diplomatic. You watched as your father set the cup down and shift to face you straight on. You knew what was coming next. He wasn’t going to ask you nicely. He wasn’t giving you an option.
Anyway, no one defied Thomas Shelby and lived. Your father wouldn’t be the first.
“Your sisters married in a timely fashion. You’re taking your time. Well, the clock is ticking and it has finally chimed. Thomas will be coming for the party tonight. In fact, it’s been set up as your engagement party. You’ll be married tomorrow.”
You gave an obedient nod in reply. Removing yourself from the table, you exited into the hall. You climbed the stairs feeling as if you were weighted down by lead. You entered your bedroom and sank against the door when it shut.
You always imagined growing old in this house. You never had plans to marry. You would always have companions. There was no need for a husband. The quiet country life of Highbury was all you needed.
Then Thomas Shelby happened. You hadn’t even remembered the last time you’d seen him. Perhaps it was London or it was Cheltenham races. You hadn’t a clue. You only knew that your father and Thomas Shelby had gotten along infamously. You had danced with him. You had been hit on by his brother John and complimented graciously by Arthur. You remembered his stoic, stern features and his ability to hide what he felt. You remembered your sisters being head over heels. He was also the only man who had ever made you feel like you didn’t hold all the cards.
You stripped yourself on your way to the bed and sprawled out. You thought yourself into a deep sleep to which you wouldn’t wake until the maid came to fetch you for dinner. You promised to be down shortly.
You slipped out onto your balcony in your robe to check the weather for the evening. You slid your hands along the smooth stone until you were flattened against it. You smiled as the fresh air filled your lungs. Nothing could compare to this bliss.
“You’re going to catch a cold wearing that.” His voice was smooth and smoky.
Your heart leapt wildly. Your eyes widened. You caught him looking over from the balcony over. He had one hand in his pinstripe pants and the other held a cigarette firmly. You hadn’t expected him to be here already.
You pulled your robes tighter around you feeling terribly naked.
His striking blue eyes took in your bare legs and followed the curves of your body to your face. A smile twitched at the corner of his mouth.
You hadn’t remembered him looking so handsome.
“You see, the cold already took your voice.”
You scowled. “I can speak just fine thank you.”
A flicker of amusement lit his eyes. He drew a short inhale of his cigarette before ashing it over the side of the balcony.
“As for your concern of my health, I’ll be just fine. I’ve been out here in far less and survived. And if it’s the exposure you’re worried about, you’ll see far more of me when we’re married.” You retorted.
A self-satisfied smirk highlighted his strong cheekbones. “I’m looking forward to it.”
A knock on your door caused you to jump. You closed the balcony doors behind you as you went to answer. It was your mother to fetch you for dinner. She brought you a pale pink dress for dinner and the party. It had an overlay of lace and fringed at the bottom.
She left you to get ready. You freshened up and applied lipstick to your lips. You approved of the reflection in the mirror and left for dinner. All the eyes on you made you a tad uncomfortable, but you held your head high and strode to the empty chair next to your sister.
Thomas regaled a triumph in France and a time before the war. You listened vexed as your sister praised him for his courage. You busied yourself with your food.
“How do you like your room, Thomas?” Your father asked taking a drink of his scotch.
“It’s charming. It has a stunning view.” Thomas watched you over the brim of his glass.
You choked, your spoon clanking against the bowl. Everyone’s eyes were on you. You gave an apologetic smile and took a drink of water.
You stared at him. He smiled back at you. Your family carried on talking about the marriage and the plans for the wedding. You and Thomas drowned them out. A silent conversation ensuing between you. He was so sure of himself. You were no threat and that bothered you. You promised to be a challenge. He wasn’t so easily deterred.
“Where are you thinking of holding the wedding?” Your mother cut in.
“There is a church near the house I bought us that I thought might be nice. I was going to wait to share the news, but I was hoping we could have the reception at the house after the ceremony.” Thomas smiled pleasantly.
You watched him with scrutiny. He was self-assured and charming. You could see why people were entranced. He had sharp cheekbones and striking eyes that stood out from his dark tresses. He was polished and mannered. He didn’t look like a boy from the ash and soot streets of Birmingham.
You slid into self-preservation as the wedding conversation continued. You wanted nothing to do with it. You were relieved when Weston came in to announce the guests were arriving. Your family began to stir from their seats. You were at the door when your father stopped you.
“(Y/N), Thomas will escort you.” He reprimanded subtly.
You waited until Thomas offered you his arm. You took it, gently letting your fingers curl around his arm. He leaned in, his lips brushing your ear,” You look beautiful tonight.”
“I didn’t earlier?” You pressed.
An urbane chuckle sounded from him. You glanced at him catching the beautiful smile he wore. You refused to warm up to him. It wasn’t going to happen. You would allow yourself to think he was handsome.
“Beautiful is only one way to describe how you looked earlier. Other words come to mind though: seductive, wicked, appetizing…” He whispered.
Your lips upturned deviously.
You took your time introducing Thomas. People were surprised and congratulatory. Many wasted no time in expressing their shock that Miss (Y/L/N), would ever get married.
“You’re behaving better than I expected.” He handed you a glass of champagne.
“I was told to move to Hollywood. They said I’d make a brilliant actress.” You took a sip.
A minor twitch in his jaw betrayed the amusement he felt. That and his expressive eyes which were softer than you were used to. He knew he would have his hands full with you. This marriage wasn’t going to be what he expected.
Thomas noticed someone approached from the corner of his eye. It was a burly man with blond hair. He had broad shoulders and soft brown eyes. Thomas noticed your smile become soft and wide. He narrowed his eyes on the stranger.
“Elliot Carrol, I didn’t think you were going to be here tonight.” You took the hand he offered you.
Elliot pressed a kiss to the back.” Miss a (Y/L/N) party? Leland and I could never do that. Besides, we heard the news.” His brow quirked in curiosity.
Thomas pressed a hand to the palm of your back. You released Elliot’s hand and pressed yours to Thomas’s chest.
“This is Thomas Shelby, my fiance.” You swallowed the word. “Tommy,” you crooned,” this is Elliot Carrol.”
Thomas looked down at you and then to Elliot. He shook his hand,” It’s a pleasure, Elliot.”
Elliot nodded,” It truly is. How long have you known our (Y/N/N)?”
Thomas smiled, his hand wrapped around your hip, pulling you into him. “I’ve known her for years. I met my (Y/N/N) when we were teenagers, then again in our twenties, and most recently in London. We’ve a long history. I’ve always known she was going to be mine.”
Elliot’s fists tightened. The two men sized each other up. The tension rose instantly. This wouldn’t be your mess if you weren’t the one getting married.
You laughed to diffuse tension,” Oh, I’m sure that’s not true. I’ve always been such a handful.” You leaned into Thomas and squeezed his shoulder. His hand tightened around your waist possessively.
Elliot smiled at you. You watched him with tender fondness.
“You are a delight, (Y/N).” He watched the band start up over his shoulder. He offered his hand again,” As old friends, may I have this dance?”
You felt Thomas tense beside you. You watched Elliot feeling those old feelings you always had. The Carrol brothers had been your neighbors since you were roughly seventeen. They had been nothing but kind and fun. You spent many days here and there listening to them tell tales and talk of life.
Momentarily, you forgot you were to be married tomorrow.
You took his hand and he whisked you right out of Tommy’s grip. His hands replaced Tommy’s, but they were familiar and warm.
“Just one dance.” You decided mostly for yourself.
Thomas’s jaw clenched. His eyes narrowing on the bumbling oaf and you –his fiancée – dancing with said oaf at your engagement party. Thomas didn’t share. He wasn’t going to share you with any man. He downed the rest of his champagne and watched you carefully.
You laughed, leaning closer to Elliot. He made it easy to be comfortable. He made it easy to have fun. You smiled over his shoulder until you saw Thomas. Everything blurred except for him. He stood crystal clear in a three-piece looking like the grim reaper.
You were inexplicably drawn back to him. Your grip on Elliot’s shoulders weakened. You tried to offer Thomas a smile, but he just watched you. You rested your head on Elliot’s shoulder to hide from him.
The music slowed. You pulled yourself back from Elliot. You felt an overwhelming feeling of guilt. Tommy might have been partially right about your history. You couldn’t stand the thought of marrying him. Or maybe you couldn’t stand the thought of marrying your equal. Elliot went to grab your hand again when Thomas reclaimed it.
“Excuse me, Elliot. I’m going to steal my girl for a dance.” He pulled you into him.
You went willingly. Your arms automatically reaching his shoulders. You stepped into him with ease. His hand flexed possessively on your waist. You leaned your head on his shoulder and focused your eyes on his white dress shirt.
“What is Elliot to you?” He studied the crown moldings of the room and the baroque wallpaper.
Your grip on his hand weakened. He tightened his, reminding you not to let go.
“He’s a neighbor.” You answered softly.
“Is that all?” He pushed.
“That’s all.”
His hand hooked around your waist, his finger splaying. You closed a nonexistent space between the two of you. Your hand moved farther up toward his neck.
“I won’t share you.” He didn’t skip a beat.
“You won’t have to.” You murmured quietly.
The two of you danced in a tranquil silence. You pondered why you disliked Thomas so badly. He killed people. He was a criminal. One of the first times you met him he had dirt on his nose. You tried so hard to remember why you didn’t want anything to do with him.
“You can’t see Elliot anymore. Or any other man pining after you.” The music died.
You stepped back to look up at him. His eyes were dark. There wasn’t a hint of amusement on his face or a glitter of admiration. His jaw was taught. His lips were pursed. His blue eyes were calculating.
As if dancing could make you forget who you were, you narrowed your eyes.” I’m not just business Thomas. I’m a person. You’re not going to tell me what to do and who I can and can’t see.”
For show, you entertained the room with a curtsy and you walked away. You wanted no part in this. You had been perfectly fine being an old spinster. You were happy to marry off all your nieces and nephews. You weren’t going to have a man tell you what to do.
Thomas caught your arm in the vacant hall. The force jerked you around until you were looking at him.
“You don’t get to walk away from this.”
You tore your arm away,” Watch me.” You turned and marched up the stairs.
He was hot on your heels.
“You’ve been given to me.” His tone hushed.
“I’m a fucking human, Thomas, not a damn mantel piece.” You shot back.
“Would you fucking listen? This marriage wasn’t won in a poker game.”
“Oh no? Was it forged under some blackmail? Maybe some laundering or threats.”
You turned a hard right when you reached the top. You could feel him closing in. He grabbed your hand this time and yanked you to the side. Your back hit the wall. A dull pain reached into your shoulders.
Thomas pressed your waist back and supported himself with one hand on the wall. “You think I would do that?”
“What else then if not?”
“I’m making a good business. I may not have the cleanest hands, (Y/N), but I didn’t force your father’s hands. I didn’t threaten him.”
You held his gaze waiting for some crack in his lies. All you saw was a solemn honesty.
“We’re getting married tomorrow whether you like it or not.” He stepped away from you.
“This is business, Thomas. Just like John and Esme. So, why? Why marry me?”
Thomas looked at you,” Some questions are better left unanswered.”
He began to walk away. You stepped in front of him and put a hand on his chest.
“Don’t you walk away from me! Tell me!”
He lifted your hand,” Go to bed, (Y/N). It’s going to be a long day tomorrow.”
You sank back, retracting your hand. You glared at him and stomped to your bedroom. You immediately felt like a child throwing a tantrum. He was so composed and put together. You burned with embarrassment.
You stripped down and put your pajamas on. You sat at your vanity and stared at yourself. It finally hit you that you were going to leave all of this. Tomorrow you would be in a new house with no one but your husband. That, in itself, was the strangest idea.
You brushed through your hair and crawled into bed. You squeezed your eyes shut hoping tomorrow wouldn’t come.
