pairing: tommy shelby x reader
summary: when it comes to you, tommy doesnât have to think twice about playing against all odds. you were his, and he wanted you back
Tommy Shelby was not much of a religious, praying man. But he still walked into church on occasion, sat on the benches and stared at the cross mounted high on the wall. Not to seek guidance regarding business or to confess to the many sins he had committed. But because of a woman. A fucking woman. One that Tommy lost due to his ever growing ego. And he hoped you would come back. Walk through the Garrison or the Arrow House doors and all would be well. All would be forgiven and forgotten, and Tommy would get down on his knees to fuck you, then to propose. But in recent weeks, his knees dropped to the carpet from drunkenness guilt. And Tommy knew the odds of it all playing in his favour were low, for you could already have some new man fucking you until you forgot the name Shelby. Although, he doubted it. Tommy was the best fuck you ever had. Your words, whispered to him as he took you on top of his desk while the guests celebrated the new year. Yet, the idea of another man touching skin only meant for his hands oddly urged Tommy to play those odds.
So he threw a party. You would come, that he was certain of. You always came for him, if for no other reason than intrigue. And if intrigue didnât urge you to attend, then your new man that Polly had told Tommy about would surely not ignore such an invitation. As nobody in London or Birmingham would dare miss an exclusive party thrown by a Shelby. And so Tommy waited. Shaking hands and conversing in minimal conversation as the clock ticked further into the night.
It wasnât until 8:03 you walked into the dining hall, the hand of some man on your lower back guiding you through the crowd. Eventually, your eyes found Tommy. Past the two women chatting excitedly as the taller blonde showed her dark redheaded friend her sparkling new accessory. And past Finn and Isaiah enjoying the company of two young women, a glint in their eyes as all four sneaked away to start their own party upstairs. And past the waiter who maneuvered around Tommy as he leaned against the dining hall entrance, drink in hand and an intoxicating allure that almost had you take a step forward.
âDarling, care for a drink?â.
You smiled at your date, taking the champagne. Robert Lawson was the co-owner of the family business âLawson Constructionâ. His grandfather first built the company in the 1800s, handing it down to his son who was now teaching Robert the business ropes, and eventually, Robert would hand it down to his son. Robert had striking brown eyes, holding more warmth than a blistering summerâs day. He was a tall, board shouldered man with short dark brunette hair. He was kind-hearted and a man who enjoyed the simple pleasures of life. But disobedience - no matter how well-intentioned - was a trait Robert found infuriatingly, especially regarding personal matters.
While Robert became entangled in conversation with a couple who trained horses, your eyes returned to the entrance in hopes to catch another glimpse of Tommy. As usual, he played with the suspense. Knowing even a glance from across the room held enough power to occupy your mind. And so, for the remainder of the night, you tightly smiled and nodded along to every conversation with a mind too distracted to care about betting, or the gossip surrounding Tony Bradyâs affair with some mistress residing in East London. And when it was time to depart, you escaped to the car, waiting for Robert to bid potential new clients farewell.
âMr Shelby insisted I give this to youâ. Your driver said, turning in his seat to hand you a note.
It read: âCharlieâs yard, tomorrow at 7 pmâ.
You exhaled, fingers running over the ink. Upon hearing Robertâs footsteps, you hid the note in your purse. He smiled, reaching for your hand, delighted as he spoke of the deal he just made to build a new set of stables for the couple who trained horses. And as the car began to leave, you noticed Tommyâs shadow looming by the second-story window.
As you walked towards the round table, Tommy sucked in the smoke, slowly exhaling. The table was covered in a pearl white cloth, two plates on either side, accompanied by a whiskey glass for him and a wine glass for you, and a small blue vase holding your favourite flowers - white and pink carnations. And just like at Arrow House, the suspense grew from longing stares. The tips of your fingers tingling with the intensity of Tommyâs piercing blue eyes, holding questionable lustful intentions.
He spoke first, voice hoarse. A considerable difference compared to Robertâs velvet tone. âI did some digging into Lawson Construction. And I learned theyâve been underpaying their employees. So I sent Arthur with a better offer. And now, six of their employees work for Shelby Limitedâ.
You sighed, slipping off your white faux fur collar. âThatâs why you asked me to Charlieâs yard. To gloatâ.
âI asked you here for dinner. And you came because youâre boredâ. Tommy took one last inhale, flattening the cigarette in the tray. âYouâre bored and looking for a good fuckâ.
âAnd you stole six employees from Lawson Construction because youâre jealous, Tommyâ.
âRobert has something of mine, and I would like it backâ. He drew out the words, emphasizing how serious he was. Adding to the reminder of the firm domineering hold Tommyâs hands and cock still held. That, despite no ring or legal bond, you were all but a Shelby in his eyes.
He casually walked over to the vinyl, the sound of music softly playing throughout the yard. Immediately, you recognized the song, the very same one that had played on your first date with Tommy. Everything about tonight reminded you of the moment you started to fall for the mysterious gangster, the one who guarded his heart within a fortress made of indestructible stone. And yet, you still longed for him. Despite Tommyâs pride, the dangers of being associated with a Shelby and his tendency to shut down, you needed him like your lungs needed air.
âDance with me?â. He asked.
âOne danceâ. He gently spoke, stepping closer as if he already knew you would accept the invitation.
Your fingers brushed against Tommyâs hand before settling in his touch. He held you close, the scent of cigarettes and whiskey mixing with the bitter night, warming your skin better than the white faux fur collar. Resting your head on his shoulder, you closed your eyes, abandoning all the time you spent trying to forget how Tommyâs touch felt in just a few light sways.
Lifting your head Tommyâs lips stopped mere inches away from your mouth. Shallow breaths quickened your heartbeat, ready to give in.
âMarry meâ. He whispered.
âYou canât ask me thatâ.
Tommy lifted your chin with his forefinger. Lustful intentions still holding strong, but it was the tenderness swirled within those lustful intentions that shone equally as bright in his stare.
âTommy, if I marry you-â.
âYouâll become a Shelbyâ. He huskily stated, thumb gliding over your bottom lip. âMy fucking wifeâ.
His words sent shivers paralleling the frosty air. Ones that immersed themselves in every bone, every muscle and vein, and clung onto the desires you buried deep down, pulling them forcefully to the surface.
âI think we should call in a nightâ. You said, rushing to collect your fur collar.
âA good, decent man is not what you wantâ. He proclaimed, taking a seat and lighting another cigarette. âRobertâs not who you fucking want, loveâ.
And you were tempted to turn around and yell, to throw the damn cigarettes to the ground, anything to protest the words Tommy had just uttered. But you carried on walking despite your unsteady legs, slamming the car door shut, Ivanâs solid composure remaining unmoved.
âEverything alright, Miss?â.
âYes, everything is fineâ. You replied, lying through your teeth. Thankfully, Ivan did not push on the matter.
âWill I be taking you home or to Mr Lawsonâs estate?â.
He nodded, slowly driving away from Charlieâs yard while you spent the entire car ride rubbing your bare ring finger.
The events of the dinner couldnât be forgotten, causing you to pull away from Robert. He noticed the sudden shift as you did a poor job at providing reasons why you couldnât stay the night. Kisses became less frequent, and your absence at his work and decline of invitations to social engagements had others questioning the status of the relationship. Prompting gossip birds to flutter their wings, spreading like wildfire, news reaching Tommy within four days. And you expected a phone call or a visit. Pathetic hope that you would run into Ada or Polly on daily errands or outside the Garrison, where you often stood outside, struggling to decide whether to go in. But you always hurried away, earning a sympathetic expression from Ivan each time you returned to the car.
And today was no different. You stood in front of the Pub, patrons effortlessly entering and exiting the establishment. Some throwing judgemental glances your way, shaking their head at the strange behaviour from a woman, or muttering inaudible words to their company. Thankfully, none recognized you. Sighing, you returned to the Charcoal Black Rolls-Royce Limousine parked a few meters opposite the Pub. Ivan folded the newspaper, his usual sympathetic gaze replaced with another you couldnât quite read. But you assumed Ivan was just tried at the constant dĂŠjĂ vu and leaned back into the seat.
The road passing by blurred into one singular stretch of grey lines with green dots, your mind elsewhere to even try to enjoy the scenic view. But once Ivan steered the car towards familiar gates, your eyes adjusted, even more so when the car came to a complete stop in front of Arrow House.
âForgive me, Miss. But Iâve watched you these past few days, and I just thought-â. Ivan paused, eyes nervously glancing in the rear-view mirror. â-I thought of what my late mother used to say, that one should always follow oneâs heartâ.
You werenât sure why, but you smiled. Perhaps, it was the respect you held for Ivan who had been driving your family around for years, becoming like a second father to you. Or, the admiration at Ivanâs bravery for forcing you to do the one thing you could not bring yourself to do for several days - face Tommy
âThereâs no need to forgive, Ivanâ.
âI simply want you to be happy, Missâ. He said, giving a smile of encouragement.
You exhaled, legs unsteady once more as you approached the doors. Frances welcomed you kindly, Tommyâs faint voice asking who was visiting at such an hour, a flashing moment of surprise sweeping across his face when he saw you and then disappearing as if it never happened. He escorted you to his office, causing your heart to flutter.
âHeard what?â. He calmly asked, playing with the suspense created days ago, driving you straight towards the drink tray in a desperate attempt to soothe the impatience building.
In one single swing, you drowned the liquor. Tommy made himself comfortable on the couch, like a king with his arm spread across the top, legs apart.
âHeard about me and Robertâ. You said, unbuttoning your beige coat, the material pooling around your feet. Tommy straightened his posture as you hiked up your pale pink dress, sinking into his lap, hands gripping your waist.
âHeâs not who I fucking wantâ. You whispered against his lips, seeing no reason to deprive yourself of what you truly craved. âYou, Thomas Shelby, are what I wantâ.
âAnd what do you want from me, eh?â. He growled, right hand roughly massaging your inner thigh.
âTo be yours. Yours to fuck, your wife. I want to be a fucking Shelbyâ.
He cracked a rare smile, capturing your mouth. The kiss heated and unrestrained, exploding every lustful intention on both minds, lasting well into the night. By morning, all had been forgiven and forgetting, and Tommy got on his knees to fuck you like he planned to do once you came back to him, proposing minutes after with a stunning antique halo diamond ring. And by midday, the news of your engagement flooded the streets and every social circle within London.
theartofmadeline
gummygunk
