#tommy fluff

It had been a couple of weeks since that night. Your husband was near London on business matters. He'd recently purchased a race horse so he was minding that over the past few days. You were taking this time of bliss to have a small nap. Your fatigue having increased over the past few days. Knowing you had caught up on the housework you decided to allow yourself a restful afternoon. You were going to read however sleep soon had other ideas.

You jump awake as you hear a knock on the front door. You let out a soft grumble as you wipe your eyes. Another knock. You mumble under your breath. Annoyed about your disrupted nap. Pushing yourself up. Your hand instinctively going to your belly as you walk over to the door. Unlocking it. Assuming it was one of your in-laws, or one of your sisters who'd forgotten their key. Possibly even your husband. Your wide smile to greet your guest being stunned as you see a man waiting outside. One you don't recognise. Not even as one of the Peaky men.

"Mrs Shelby?" Your scan over their frame. The smile fading completely when you see the knife he flashes at you hidden in his coat. You go and shut the door on him. His hand coming out and stopping it. You turn quickly. Making your way upstairs. Just as the door swings open.

Someone grabbing the lower half of you leg. Tripping you. The air from your lungs being forced out. You turn your body. You bring your free leg up. Kicking him. He grabs at the flesh of your lower leg. Yanking you down a few stairs. Able to straddle you. You struggle as he grabs the knife out. Holding the knife up to go in for a swipe. Bringing your hands up as a means to protect yourself. One over your face, the other near your stomach.

It goes through your palm. You scream out as he removes the item. Going in for another swing. Bringing your knee up and kicking them in the crotch. He grunts out. Hand going to his injury. You clench your good hand. Bringing it back and hitting it into his face. Hearing his nose crunch under your fist. He fumbles on the stairs. Nearly falling down them. Him moving off from over you. You bring your foot up, placing it onto his chest as you kick him. Him falling down the length of the stairs. Giving you enough time to turn back around. Scrambling up the stairs as you regain your footing.

Pain going through your body as you get upstairs. Running to your bedroom and shutting the door. Holding your wounded hand by your torso. Heavy breathing as you asses the room. You run over to the window. Lifting the glass panel up. You weigh up the option of climbing out. But the fall being too high. Plus you weren't overly agile or slim in the best of times. Especially not with a 6 month pregnancy belly. You bite at your bottom lip as you go to plan B.

You look for a place to hide. Noticing small blood spots on the floor from your injury. You take your hand. Then rubbing it over the edge of the window frame. Thinking of where you would grab if you escaped through here. Biting your lip to dull any sounds of pain as silent tears stain your face. Hearing footsteps out the hallway. You drop to the floor. Hiding behind the full length mirror you have standing in the room as you hear the slow turn of the door handle.

The door opens. Seeing two feet walk into your room. You bite at your lips. Shutting your eyes, every ounce of you willing yourself to not make any noise. You hold your wounded hand near your chest. Your other hand coming up and covering your mouth as you become aware of how heavily you are breathing.

The attacker goes over to the window. Presumably looking out of it. You watch from under the mirror. Seeing his shadow. He carefully and quietly wonders around the room. Obviously having the same thoughts of you of your practicality of getting out the small space in such a rush. You see him look under the bed. In the wardrobe. Then he comes over to the mirror. You stay as silent as you can. Practically holding your breath.

Watching as his feet walk out of the room. Hearing them make their way downstairs. You wait a few moments before you start assessing the situation. First of all: your injury. You look at your hand. Trying not to gag as you see the wound. You go to the bottom of your skirt. Hand shaking as you tear the end of it. Using it as you wrap it around your injury. Gritting your teeth as you finish. Holding it close to you.

Resting against the wall as your eyes remain fixed on the door. You will yourself to not pass out. Trying to focus on something. Anything. You sit for what must've been a few hours. Waiting behind the mirror. Scared that if you move you'll pass out. Or get found. So you stay still. As much as you can given that your entire body is shaking. Tears still falling down your cheeks as you watch the doorway. You become alert again as you hear noise downstairs.

Looking around you for anything that could be used as a weapon. Biting your lip as you're met with nothing of use to you. Not without moving from your hiding spot and potentially getting caught in the process.

Then an idea. You bring your good hand down. Taking off your high healed shoe. Unbuckling the straps of them both. Quietly resting one down onto the floor as you bring the other one up. Holding the top of it. Heal outwards. Gripping around the sole. You take in a breath. Moving out from behind the mirror. Over to the doorway. Just around the corner so you can remain hidden. Giving you the advantage. Your hand slowly bleeding onto your shirt as you keep it close to your chest. Holding the shoe up. Getting ready to attack.

Your whole body shaking as the person cautiously step into the room. You bring the shoe up. Aiming for their head. They turn quickly. Grabbing your wrist to prevent you from harming them. Going to reach for his gun but stopping as he meets your eyes.

"Tommy". You say his name. A small sob coming out. Dropping the shoe you held as you wrap your arm around him. Your wounded hand still clutched to yourself. You hide your head into his shoulder. His arms coming up and holding you. Your entire body shaking.

"Are you hurt?" You remain silent. Focusing on his warmth and scent as to not spiral into panic. He takes your silence as a bad sign. He unwraps his arms. Moving away slightly as he holds your face. Forcing you to look at him. "Florence are you hurt?" So much adrenaline coursing through your body that you take a while to think of the answer. Too long. He's already giving you a once over visually. Seeing the blood stain on your shirt and hand.

His eyes going to your injured hand. He goes to take it. But you keep it clutched to yourself. Shaking your head at him. "Let me look". His voice is calm. Stern but calm. You blink a few times. Letting him take your reluctant hand in his. Gently holding the wrist of it as he unwraps the cloth you used. You grip at your skirt. Looking away as you clench your teeth. Body still intensely shaking.

"You're ok love. I've got you". He gently moves you to sit on the bed. Shutting your eyes as you feel queasy. You're hand going to your stomach as you take in a few deep breaths. John and Esme coming up the stairs.

"Thomas?"

"She's been stabbed. She has a sewing kit somewhere in here" you hear them fumbling about. Unable to work out which one announces they've found it. Your husband sits next to you on the bed. Gripping your good hand with his. His arm going around to hold you close to him. You feel someone grabbing your arm. Holding it out. Opening your eyes you see John is sat the other side of you. Gripping your lower arm and wrist.

Esme using a match, putting the needle into it before placing it into a drink of you presume alcohol or water. You go to move away. Shaking your head as she kneels in front of you. Tommy and Johns grip tightening around you. "The wound needs stitches". She speaks. Her eyes filled with sympathy. "Its going to hurt but I'll be quick, ok?".

She takes your hand. Starting to sew your hand up. Not giving you time to protest. You cry out. Tommy holding your good hand as you go to push her away. John holding your arm out so you can't retract it. Your husband shushing you comfortingly as you cry. His arms keeping your body pressed against his as both the Shelby men keep you still.

She kept her word. Although it seemed like hours, the procedure was done in less then a minute. Taking the glass she had used for the needle and pouring it over the wound. Causing you to cry out again. Scrunching your eyes shut as you grip the hand of your husband. Fresh tears falling down your cheeks as you feel John lets go of you. Thomas kisses your temple, stroking your hair.

"Well done love. It's over". Moving the hand from your hair. Feeling him move from behind you. Your body weight resting against him. Feeling something cold hit your lips. Jumping as you open your eyes. A whiskey bottle. "Drink. It'll help dull the pain". You shake your head.

"Where are Liz and Mary?" You whisper. Going to stand up. Thomas's arm still wrapped around you. Tightening at your movement. Keeping you sat on the bed. Esme speaks next to you.

"Both safe and next door". You nod. Letting Thomas lift the bottle. Letting your drink a large quantity of it before removing it. Placing it back on the side. You breath heavily. Shutting your eyes again as you try and focus on your husband. His warm arm around you. The smell of tobacco and an undertone of whiskey.

"They got Arthur and Michael too". John says. Tommy nodding in response. "I thought you said that we were safe".

"I thought we were too..." He says. Voice quiet as he holds you close to him. Your eyes remaining shut as your breathing becomes steady. You hear commotion from downstairs. You flinch. Eyes widening as you go closer to your husband. Body must still be on high alert from the chaos as you back away slightly. Thomas grips your hand slightly tighter as you watch the doorway. John cautiously going and seeing what the noise was.

"They took my son". You hear Polly say as she storms into the room. The Shelby boys and Esme relaxing slightly. "Thomas they took my fucking son". She says again. "You promised that he'd be safe. You said-"

"Polly". He tries to calm her.

"No. They took Michael. They took my boy". She shakes her head. Obviously trying not to break down fully. "You need to get my son back. Thomas get my so-"

"Enough." He cuts her off. The tone sharp and precise. Sending chills down your spine. "Family meeting next door. Now. John get Finn". The younger brother nods. Going out, shortly followed by his wife. You see Polly's eyes frantic as they look at her nephew.

"Thomas". She says. Sternness in her voice that you can only put down as a Shelby tone.

"I said go next door. I will talk to you there". She clenches her jaw. Borderline stropping out the room as she leaves. Hearing her footsteps loud on the stairs. Slamming the door shut. He moves from behind you. Kneeling in front of you as he rests a hand on your cheek. His other hand still holding onto yours.

"I'm sorry Mr Shelby... I tried keeping the baby safe..." Trying to steady your breathing. Eyes trying to read him. Feeling a couple of tears fall down your cheek. His lips slightly parted as he watches you.

"I'm going to change your out of these clothes, ok?" He speaks softly to you. You nod your head. Feeling him start to undo the buttons of your shirt. You wince as he pulls the sleeve over your arm and hand. More ease on the other, less injured one. Throwing your blood soaked garment onto the floor. You hear him stand up. Opening your eyes you watch as he gets a damp cloth. Coming over he cleans up some of the dried blood on your arm and torso.

Where you'd been holding it so tightly against yourself you'd managed to bleed through your shirt. Tossing the cloth aside he gently places a new shirt over your frame. He kneels in front of you. Watching his eyes scanning your features. As you look down at him.

"I'm going to call the midwife and get her to come and check you and the baby over. I can't see any wounds near the child but I think its best if we check, ey?" You nod. "I need to go next door and have this meeting. Find out exactly what happened and why". You shake your head. Your good hand coming out. Taking his in yours as you plead with him.

"Please don't leave me..." A feeble whisper comes past your lips. He looks at you. Nodding slightly before standing. You keep your eyes on his as he pulls you up by your good hand. One arm holding your hand still as the other goes to the lower part of your back. Letting you gain your balance. Your body still shaking.

"I'm going to find the man that did this to you". He speaks in a low, hushed voice. "I'm going to make him pay. For harming you. For harming our child". You meet his eyes again. Cold. The stare making your breath hitch. You look downwards. Keeping a hold of his hand as he leads you next door. Sitting you down onto a chair before the family meeting ensues.

The midwife came round less then 24 hours later. Checking over you and the baby and confirming that you were both fine. Although your body had gone into shock it doesn't seem to have affected the pregnancy. Once Thomas had heard this news you didn't see him for a long time. Not that he'd left you unprotected. You made note of the various Blinders patrolling outside your house.

It was midday during the weekend. You were playing a game with your sisters when you hear the front door open. You turn quickly. Standing up - mind you a little wobbly - but quickly to see your husband walk into the living room.

Your eyes scanning over his features as you look at him. Lifting his head up to look at you. "I need you and your sisters to come with me".

"Why?"

"Go pack a bag each. I'll wait here". He says. Eyes drifting to your sisters who look at him then at you. "Go". His voice sterner this time. Your sisters having better judgement then you stand up. Scurrying past you and Thomas. Hearing their footsteps on the wooden flooring upstairs. Your eyes dart between his two blue orbs. His stay steady and fixated on yours. "Go". He repeats. You shake your head.

"I want you to answer my question".

"I'll answer your questions when we get in the car and start driving".

"No. No you can't do that. You can't just expect to leave us alone for days. With no contact. No say as to where you've gone. Then turn up expecting me to get into a car with you without asking any questions. No". Reaching up he takes his cap off. Your eyes glancing at the small piece of metal that glints in the light of the room. Watching as he puts it onto the cabinet near the door.

You try to read him. His posture. Placing his hands in front of him as his eyes become steady on yours once again. You keep your ground under his menacing stare. Making a point by folding your arms over your torso. Feeling your hands shaking as you clench them against you.

"I want answers". Your voice a whisper. He takes in a breath through his nose. Exhaling as he speaks.

"Did Detective Campbell try and fuck you?" The sudden question shocking you. Taking you a while to come up with a response.

"Excuse me?"

"Did he try and fuck you?" You flit your eyes between his.

"He may have... suggested such notions... But I refused him. I wouldn't cheat on you".

"You should've told me".

"I didn't see it being necessary".

"I'd like to know when my enemy tries to fuck my wife. I believe that is the reason he hired that man to attack you".

"Because I refused to have sex with him?"

"And to enforce his argument of how dangerous this life is. That this world is filled with blood and violence". You bring your hand to your stomach. Holding it. Rubbing a thumb over the swell of your belly.

"Why do you want me to pack a bag?"

"I'm going to move you and your sisters to a safe house. One that only I and a handful of my most trusted men know about".

"How long will we be there for?"

"Until I have dealt with the current threat and it is safe for you to come back home".

"Who will be with us at the safe house?"

"It'll be you and your sisters. I'll have a man guarding the perimeter who will change periodically. Plus someone else to deliver you food. The midwife will see you when she is needed but she is to come alone and be searched every time she comes". Your hands rest under your stomach. Breaking eye contact with him as you look down. He stays quiet as you process his answers. Nodding slightly before looking back up at him. "Good. Go pack a bag".

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TAGS

- he’s not judgemental at all about it and he’ll gladly yell at someone if they make a comment about it.

- he’ll joke around with you and if you’re fine with it, he’ll make silly little jokes about you fainting that he knows won’t hurt your feelings.

- he’d notice fairly quickly that you’d get a lazy, droopy face just as you’re about to faint, and he’d be there in an instant.

- he’d brought up the topic of saying something if you knew you were about to faint, and you’d both agreed for you to say “tom, faint” or something along those lines.

- when you first fainted, he didnt know you fainted so he searched up so many different things to see what happened

- he is always there to catch you or let you lay on him when you faint.

- if you get up too fast after fainting, he holds you head to steady you and lays you back down.

- knows you’re about to faint when you start breathing heavily randomly or you start sweating randomly

- will sit down with you and figure out why you faint if it randomly starts happening.

- you’ll realise it’s probably because it runs in your family or a health condition like low blood sugar, irregular heartbeat etc.

- if you have low blood sugar, he always has lollies in his pocket for you and himself because he has the same thing.

- but you have POTS, he will make sure that you sit down if you have been on your feet for a long time

- he always makes sure to loosen any tight clothing (without being too intrusive), keep your legs up with a pillow, and call 999 if you don’t regain consciousness after one minute

Masterlist

Falling.

Your heart was hammering against your chest, the full weight of his body had you pinned against the wall, you were planing your next move, knee to the crotch or your teeth sinking into the thin skin of his exposed neck.

Either way you were getting out of here without him touching you.

You'd left The Garrison to get some air, it was rowdy, filled to the rafters with people and the thick fog of smoke. Not that the streets of Small Heath were much better.

You hadn't realised you'd been followed to the back alley, until you were pushed against the wall and the smell of rum hit your senses.

"Get the fuck off me" you spat, body thrashing against his grasp.

Some stranger from out of town trying their luck, someone who didn't know how it worked around here. His grip on your wrist tightening.

"I think the lady asked you to get the fuck off" the unmistakeable voice of a Shelby.

In seconds he was ripped from your body, you didn't even look back as you bundled up the hem of your skirt and ran expertly down the cobbled alleyway.

His screams were enough to know, that he hadn't just been discarded against the neighbouring wall but dealt with in a more serious way.

You spotted Finn leaning against the side of his car, you stumbled in not uttering a word as he started the engine, whisking you out to the Countryside.

-

"Where is she?" Tommy's voice filled the halls of his house, echoing off the walls.

You sighed as Polly finished cleaning the cut just under your eye, downing the whiskey as she patted your knee "He cares about you, that's all"

You nodded, as she left the room, replaced moments later by Tommy, your childhood friend, always your knight in not so shining armour.

"What were you doing out there, eh?" he was discarding his coat and hat, "Went out for a breather, The Garrison was packed tonight" you stood to pour two more glasses of whiskey.

"Could have let one of us know" Tommy was already sat on the couch, cigarette poised between his lips.

"You were too busy" you rolled your eyes handing him the glass, "with business" he stated simply as you took your seat next to him.

You didn't respond, you never won with him.

"Was worried about you" he whispered, nudging you with his elbow. He turned to you, cigrette poised between his fingers as he examined your face, holding your chin with his thumb and forefinger.

"No you weren't, you were just looking for a fight" you smirked, eyes flicking up to look at him. You swallowed slowly, leaning forward, Tommy still holding your chin, you brushed your lips against his.

You were unsure, nervous, were your feelings reciprocated?.

_

You pulled away, tongue running across your lips to settle the buzzing through them.

Tommy was watching you carefully moving his hand round to cradle the back of your neck.

He slowly pulled you forward, lips pecking at yours, your hand curled round his bicep, pressing your lips harder against his.

Tommy pulled away first, forehead pressed to yours, he smiled slowly before licking at his lips.

You returned his smile, lips back on his in seconds.

Tommy wasted no time, his tongue pushing into your mouth, curling against your own, moving you back against the arm of the sofa.

"Well fucking finally" John's voice boomed from the doorway.

Tommy reluctantly pulled from your lips, turning to look at John "do none of you have your own homes to go too?"

John shrugged as he walked further into the room, grabbing the bottle of whiskey "just saying its about time" he called over his shoulder.

-

Tommy rolled his eyes, turning back to you, holding out his hand "lets go somewhere more private, eh?"

You let him pull you up, into his chest, his fingers brushing your hair from your cheeks "We're actually doing this?" you asked, watching his face for any signs of regret.

His face softened, smiling big enough to make the corners of his eyes crinkle, a sight that was very rare after the war "Of course" he kissed you again.

"About time, Brother" Arthur was the next one of the family to wander past, Tommy once again rolled his eyes earning a small laugh from you.

"Thank you Arthur" Tommy sighed, as he lead you from the room up the stairs to the master bedroom, you stopped at the top of the stairs.

"They're right, it is about time" You gave him a shy smile, Tommy nodded taking a few steps towards you "Should have kissed me sooner then, eh?"

"Why do I have to do all the kissing round here" you laughed, hands on his chest.

"I can think of more than kissing, if you'd just follow me" he stated taking your hand again, you didn't move he turned round a confused look on his face "just one more kiss so I know this is real" you pouted.

Tommy obliged, lips catching yours hands on your hips pushing you against the wall, hips pressed into yours "definitely real, darling" he rasped.

"Finally" Ada's voice filled the hall as she left one of the bedrooms

Tommy didn't give her a response, pulling you into his room After falling for you when you were just teenagers, he had a lot of time to make up.

1908 Not knowing what it was I will not give you up this time But darling, just kiss me slow, your heart is all I own And in your eyes you're holding mine

It had been over a year since Tommy had met you and in recent weeks he had become increasingly worried about asking you out for a proper date. Now that he had gotten to know you he knew that you were so sweet, but you had a sharp tongue when it was needed he liked you even more for it. Everyone who met you was at least a little bit in love with you. Not that Tommy was jealous… Well maybe he was a little bit jealous, but he was not going to stop you from dating whoever you wanted. Even if whoever you wanted was not him and it broke his heart. When Tommy spotted you hanging out in the bar by your house he was surprised. Usually you liked to bring him along to avoid the leering and overly enthusiastic, drunken admirers. He saw you leaning against the bar with your head thrown back, exposing your throat, laughing at something the man beside you had said. Tommy swallowed thickly. You were captivating. The orange lights of the bar reflected off your shiny (Y/H/C) hair. Your white blouse and long red skirt drew everyone’s attention. Jealousy coiled tightly in his throat and his hands tightened into fists. He could not let himself be overtaken by jealousy. You would never forgive him if he acted out. You spotted him and immediately your smile grew. Tommy’s heart clenched. He was imagining things, you were not happy to see him, just happy to leave your conservation. “Tommy!” you shouted, pushing through the crowd, your drink precariously held in your hand. Tommy grinned, but it did not quite reach his eyes. “Tommy, you wouldn’t believe the night I’ve had-Oh my god!” You stumbled on uneven flooring just a foot away from Tommy and your drink went flying. Tommy jerked as the cold drink spilled down his front. “I’m so, so, so sorry,” you stuttered. Tommy shrugged, his eyes on the man you had abandoned at the bar. “I can go change,” Tommy said, shrugging. “And leave you to your date.” “Date? With Will? God no. Never.” You were stumbling over your words, but you could not seem to stop yourself. “That’s my brother’s friend. I think he means to set me up, but he is completely oblivious to my type.” Tommy’s eyebrows raised and he turned his gaze to yours. “Your type?” He questioned. You shrugged. You had no desire to go down that route with Tommy. There was no way you could admit your feelings to him when he had never shown an inkling of romantic interest in you. “Look, I’ll help you and clean your shirt for you.” You replied, side stepping his question. “It’s the least I can do. My parent’s house is closer anyways.” Tommy nodded, a contemplative look had fallen over his face. He opened his mouth and then shook his head, simply turning and leading the way to the door. You left your glass on a nearby table and followed Tommy out into the cold night. You shivered, wrapping your coat more tightly around yourself. Tommy glanced over and smiled sympathetically. “I would offer you mine, but…” Tommy said, a teasing tone to his voice. “Just trying to make me feel worse, huh?” you replied, bumping your shoulder into him. “Just being honest.” “God, I can hear the smirk in your voice.” Tommy chuckled and the sound brought a grin to your face. Tommy was slow to a smile and even slower to a laugh. You cherished every single one you were able to elicit. “Come on,” you said, opening the front gate for him. You trudged up the steps to your house, opening the door and leading him through the darkened hallways to the garden. “My dad’s got some shirts out on the line and I’ll bring yours over tomorrow, yeah?” “You really don’t have to (Y/N).” “I really do. It’s my fault for being a careless idiot.” Tommy seemed to want to protest more, but you snagged a shirt and a cloth off the line and led him back into the kitchen. “Well?” you said, gesturing to the shirt and coat he had yet to take off. Tommy started, but quickly shrugged off his coat and stripped off the soaking shirt and vest underneath. Your mouth went dry and you could not help but stare even if it was for only a second. Even at only eighteen Tommy was toned and

strong looking. Tommy cleared his throat and you squeaked, tossing the shirt at him and turning away. Tommy grinned. There was no way he had imagined that look. Your eyes had been filled with desire as they swept over his chest. Tommy hoped what you felt was more than desire and now he needed to know. “Admiring something?” he asked, his voice low. “N-no,” you stuttered, your back still turned as you absently tried to organize the counter in front of you. “Mmmm, well it seemed like you were.” You shook your head not trusting yourself to speak with any modicum of confidence. “(Y/N)… are you lying to me?” Tommy whispered next to your ear. You jumped and Tommy settled his hands gently on your waist. The weight was comforting and you relaxed into his loose hold easily. “Steady, (Y/N).” Tommy’s lips gently brushed your ear, his breath ghosting over your cheek. Your eyes fluttered. Tommy squeezed your waist and pulled you gently back into his chest. You could tell he had only pulled the shirt on and not buttoned it. You sucked in a harsh breath and tried to calm your racing heart. Tommy’s lips whispered over your skin to your jaw. Your hands lifted to cover his squeezing them harshly. “Tommy?” you gasped. Tommy blinked and started to pull away and you spun. You hands went to his shoulders and your lips went clumsily to his. You corrected, attempting a slow and gentle kiss. You could not be sure you had succeeded with your heartbeat in your ears and your hands slightly shaking. The you realized that Tommy was frozen and you jerked away in shame. Your head dropped and your shoulders hunched. “Oh god... I didn’t... I’m so sorry...” you mumbled, shame gathering in the pit of your stomach. Your face was on fire. “No,” Tommy said, breathless and forceful as he grabbed your waist and pulled you against him. 1910

Baby, I'm dancing in the dark with you between my arms Barefoot on the grass, listening to our favorite song When you said you looked a mess, I whispered underneath my breath But you heard it, darling, you look perfect tonight

“Tommy!” you laughed, darting around the clothesline. “No! This is the third drink you’ve spilled on me!” Tommy shouted. “Your shirts have come back spotless every time.” “I think you just want to see me shirtless.” You gasped, “How dare you, sir, accuse me of impropriety!” Tommy smirked. In your faux dramatics you had stopped keeping track of Tommy through the laundry and he had been able to sneak up on you. Tommy grabbed you and lifted you off the ground. You squealed and he laughed. “I think there is a lot of impropriety I can accuse you of, Miss (Y/L/N),” he murmured in your ear once he had you settled back on the grass. You scoffed, trying to squirm out of his grip. “Ah ah ah. I require a kiss before I accept your apology.” You rolled your eyes, but happily obliged. 1911

Well I found a woman, stronger than anyone I know She shares my dreams, I hope that someday I'll share her home I found a love, to carry more than just my secrets To carry love, to carry children of our own We are still kids, but we're so in love Fighting against all odds I know we'll be alright this time Darling, just hold my hand Be my girl, I'll be your man I see my future in your eyes

“Dance with me, Tom!” you said, kicking off your shoes and skipping into the grass in the garden. Tommy smiled and followed you. “There’s no music.” “Just pretend. Humor me,” you said, wrapping your arms around Tommy’s neck. “Well I’m good at that.” “Hey!” Tommy chuckled, but he led you into a dance through the garden. “You know, (Y/N), we’ve been together three years tonight.” You nodded. “And I think that… Well what I mean…” Tommy stuttered. Tommy never stuttered. You were intrigued. There was very little you did not know about Tommy at this point. “What do you want to say, Tommy?” Tommy grumbled and then stepped away. He shoved his hand into his pocket, with eyes on the ground, and you frowned. “Is this a break-up speech?” you teased, a wide grin on your face. “What?” Tommy looked horrified, but then rolled his eyes when he saw your grin. “No, (Y/N). I’m being serious.” “That’s a first,” you quipped, not able to drop your sarcastic attitude easily in the face of his nerves. Tommy sighed a dramatic, put-up sigh, and you made a show of covering your mouth with both of your hands. “Well, like I said it’s been three years. I can’t imagine being with someone else. You’re perfect, (Y/N). No objecting. You are perfect. As much as you seem to adore spilling drinks on me and teasing me endlessly you are compassionate and kind when I need it. You are understanding and helpful. I was hoping that you would agree to marry me.” Your eyes were impossibly wide when Tommy dropped onto his knee and presented the ring to you. “You didn’t even ask you know?” Tommy grinned, “(Y/N) (Y/L/N), will you marry me?” “Yes, of course.” 1915

Baby, I'm dancing in the dark, with you between my arms Barefoot on the grass, listening to our favorite song When I saw you in that dress, looking so beautiful I don't deserve this, darling, you look perfect tonight

“You don’t have to go,” you said, your voice cracking at the end. You and Tommy knew that wasn’t true, but you felt like you had to say it all the same. “(Y/N), please,” Tommy begged. You tried to stifle your sobs, but you couldn’t help it. “Tommy, what happens if you don’t come back? I’m not sure how I could go on.” “You will go on.” Tommy insisted, his mouth hard, but his eyes filled with sorrow. “Stay with Polly and Ada. They need you just as much as you need them.” “Fuck.” You sat down hard into the chair. It would just be the three of you now. You looked up into Tommy’s eyes. “You have to promise me you will come back.” “I can’t.” “No, promise me.” Tommy stood and walked over to you. He dropped to knees, the heavy thud loud in the silence of the apartment. He grasped both of your hands in one of his the other going to your chin to tilt your face up. Tears slipped from your eyes and your nose was read, but you were still the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. “I promise you that I will do everything I can to come back to you.” You choked on a sob and threw yourself into his arms. 1916

Baby, I'm dancing in the dark, with you between my arms Barefoot on the grass, listening to our favorite song I have faith in what I see Now I know I have met an angel in person And she looks perfect I don't deserve this You look perfect tonight

You squinted your eyes shut, arm draped over your face trying to block the sunlight. stupid fucking summer. it was hot...dreadfully hot. it had to be one of the warmest summers yet, and your mother forcing you to go to the beach wasn't much help either. you hated it. there is sand everywhere, girls and guys to be insecure around, and screaming children, and on top of all that, it was fucking hot.

"hun, can you grab me a water out of the bag?" your mom asked kindly, gesturing to the cooler bag that sat next to you.

nodding gently, you reached over into the bag.

"watch out!"

what. the actual. fuck.

you shut your eyes tightly, scared to open them. if you moved there would be sand in your eyes. you could hear your mother yelling, and the sounds of young boys apologizing. all you could really focus on was the pain of the sandy soccer ball hitting you in the face, and a frantic voice louder than the rest,

"Shit. shit. shit. fuck I am so sorry. Genuinely I am."

Wiping away as much sand as you could from your face, you managed to open your eyes to a tall fluffy-haired boy, worry spread across his whole face. He seemed genuinely sorry, but to say you still wanted to throw the ball back at his face was an understatement. Grabbing the ball out of your lap, you handed it to the boy.

"It's fine. Here."

He grabbed it cautiously, his blue eyes looking at you intensely with dread.

"Are you sure? I can buy you some...uh... ice cream or something to make up for it. Genuinely I am really sorry."

Sweet of him, but no. If you had to keep talking to him you might deck him straight in his jaw.

"No seriously. It's fine. I needed an excuse to leave the beach anyways."

His face flushed red with embarrassment.

Okay...apparently someone can't take a joke when they're panicked.

"Well no! I didn't mean to ruin-"

A taller gentleman with brown hair placed his hand on the smaller one's shoulder.

"Tommy, let it go, man."

"But Will-"

The older man looked you in the eyes, making you feel small. He was insanely handsome, the kind of guy you'd see in a coffee shop.

"Sorry for him being a bother. Have a good rest of your day love."

And off they went, the blonde one rambling and the brunette shoving him along.

You looked over at your mom, and she looked at you.

Silence.

You both cracked a smile and started to laugh harder than you ever had.

"Come on hun. Let's pack up for the day." She said closing her book shut.

---------

You pushed the classroom door open, making sure to hold it for the next person behind you before making your way down the hall. Your head was pounding, and the lovely bruise on your forehead didn't help.

You made your way to your locker and groaned, placing your bag on the floor. Of course, you had the bottom locker. It was such a pain in the ass.

After making sense of the puzzle of the locker combination, you opened the door. Pulling out the binders you needed for the rest of your day, and putting away the ones you didn't need.

You leaned back over to your bag, digging through it.

Thud.

You groaned in agony, your side was throbbing. You opened your eyes and looked awkwardly at the blonde hair blue-eyed boy beside you. You went to open your mouth with a smart remark but realized he was way more mangled than you.

"Woah, are you okay?" You asked genuinely, standing up and reaching a hand out to him. Yes, your side was pounding, it felt like you just got kicked in it....which you did.

"Yeah, thanks." He reached out, taking your hand. You both looked at each other and it clicked.

"Oh my god." He said, staring at you.

"What is it up with you and hurting me." You teased him gently, hoping it didn't scare him.

He laughed loudly, a wave of relief washed over you.

"Well this time I got hurt in the process, so I think it was fair."

"No, because I've gotten hurt not once, but twice. You only got hurt once."

"But I was embarrassed both times, so it works out."

You two laughed.

You squatted down to close your locker back up. Grabbing your bag, you slumped it over your shoulder.

"Alright, well watch where you're going." You smile up at the boy and continued your walk back to class.

------

"Order for Jack!" You yelled, carrying a tray filled with burgers, fries, and some shakes that were a pain in the ass to make.

You walked around, looking for anybody standing up.

"Order for Jack!" You yelled once more, catching a man's attention.

"Oh right here sorry!" He came up and meet you halfway to his table, grabbing the tray out of your hands.

"Can I get you anything else?" You smiled at him.

"No, everything looks great. Thank you!" He said kindly, making his way back to the table.

You walked back up to the back counter, taking the next ticket out of the window to pack up on the tray. You repeated this same process a hundred times a shift. Put all the food on the tray, screaming people's names, hand it off, and go right back. It's not that it was a hard job, just boring as hell.

And the guest are very rude.

To say you were feeling quite irritable today would be an understatement. After school, your side still was killing you and you had to come to work right after.

So when a middle-aged dad comes in and screams at you for his "fast food" taking a long time, it doesn't really help improve your mood.

You finished plating up the next order, reading the ticket you found the name. Picking up the tray, you turned around to meet a familiar face.

"Oh." He said, shifting awkwardly.

You think you have had it up to here with this kid. Everywhere you turn he is there.

"What." You said coldly, putting the tray down.

"What do you need?"

He cautiously handed you his empty paper cup.

"Um, I just wanted a refill of my coke."

Fuck. He looked like a lost puppy.

"Hey, I'm so-"

"That's a pretty name." He smiled at you, as you took his cup.

"What?" You questioned, pushing the soda dispenser.

"Your name tag. You haven't told me your name yet, it's pretty."

"Well, now I feel like a bitch." You laughed, handing him his soda.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to be snippy it's just been a rough day. Your name is Tommy right?"

The boy snapped his lid back onto his cup and shook his head.

"Yeah, or Tom whatever is fine."

You two stood there awkwardly for a few seconds. You decided to look down at the ticket to see whose name you would be calling next and looked up at the boy.

"This is yours." You smiled at him.

"Well, that's a coincidence huh?" He laughed, placing his drink onto the tray.

"Seems like we've had a lot of those recently."

Tommy picked up the tray, beginning to walk away. He stopped in his tracks and walked back up to the counter.

"Did I forget something?" You asked curiously.

"No, everything looks great but um, I don't know if this is weird or not but I'm hanging with some of my friends and I didn't know if maybe after your shift if you wanted to join us?"

You smiled at him, and then checked the clock.

"I get off in an hour and a half. Is that okay?"

"Awesome. Don't worry we won't like, kidnap you or anything."

Tommy’s lips curl absentmindedly as he remembers the day he wedded you. It was undoubtedly one of the few things he was so positively sure of that Polly didn’t even prepare a counter argument like she had for Arthur (She never had the chance with John since Martha was pregnant and on the verge of showing just how pregnant). 

Deep in thought, Tommy tries to remember the last time the two of you spent some time together, that wasn’t bound to dinner tables and quiet breakfasts. The breakfasts were quiet as the two of you ate and caught up on the news by reading the newspaper most mornings. Sometimes he would smoke and you would frown slightly at his actions but never commented. He would always let it burn in the ashtray the second your fingers searched for yours in reassurance despite the light scowl present on your temples as you continued decomposing the front-page news of the day. He adored you and studied you at breakfasts, more often than not, leaving his breakfast to go cold and later apologising to the cook when he asked for another slice of toast instead of eating his cooked breakfast. Tommy usually removed the poached eggs from his plate and put them on a saucer before silently nudging them towards you. You always lifted your newspaper higher and hid the smile gracing your lips, hoping that he wouldn’t see it but he always did and he always felt his heart flutter at the sight, no matter the fact that you’d been married already for a few years and he hoped it would never fail to make his heart flutter for years to come.

Deciding that he’d had enough for the day, Tommy lifts himself from his desk chair and makes his way towards your study, where you often lay reading or sat painting or sometimes could be found just airing your thoughts to the painting of the horse that Tommy had bought for you at auction for your anniversary one year. You had named him Honeysuckle. Tommy had been over the moon that you loved his present as he had always enjoyed spending his off time with horses whenever he could. He preferred horses over people, not including you.

Today, when Tommy padded into the room in a pair of slippers you had insisted on gifting him (you said it was silly for him to walk around in work shoes when he was at home and therefore he should wear something comfier for the comfier setting), you were sitting in an armchair, the leather faded from the sunlight that pooled through the tall windows, your hair pulled back and tied out of your face by a simple scarf and a book resting on your folded legs.

Tommy’s chest swelled with adoration, loving how the midday sunlight hit your face and made you glow from where he was standing. The book you were reading was well thumbed despite the leatherbound spine, instantly telling him that you were researching the appropriate things for your small business. He sat down on the loveseat opposite and pulled out a cigarette.

You twitched, hating that he had come into your space to smoke when he could’ve just as easily smoked in any other room in the house or on the grounds somewhere far away from you. He knew you hated him smoking as it reminded you of your father who chain smoked like it was going out of fashion until the day he died. He also knew you tolerated it as best you could as Tommy didn’t smoke as severely as your father once had.

“Tommy,” you began, not taking your eyes away from the line you were currently trying to etch into your brain, “this is a cigarette-free space.”

He smiles, enjoying your nagging despite not directly addressing the thing that was bothering you.

“Alright I’ll put it away,” he says and tucks it neatly back into the case he had pulled it from and left them to rest on the wooden tabletop next to him.

“I was just repeating the only rule we agreed on in this house.”

“And I just wanted to listen to you say it, again.”

You shifted how you were sitting so the book rested on the arm of the chair and you rested your head on the palm of your hand, flicking between pages with the other.

“I don’t see the appeal in listening to me repeat myself.”

“I like hearing the sound of your voice as it travels through the room,” he replied, not missing a beat. He smiles and waits for you to lift your head to face him. You wondered briefly if you had forgotten what he looked like since this morning’s breakfast… probably not,

He waits for you to say something back but nothing comes and you make no moves to continue the conversation, “Don’t you wanna see if my face has changed since this morning?”

Stilling, you wonder how he knows you so well. You leave your finger below the line you were reading and point your gaze in his direction. You drink in his features, take note of the slippers you had been nagging him to wear and offer a tight smile, “What are you after, Tommy?”

“Can't I sit in my wife's study to just look at her?”

You frown and pull the bookmark down and close the book before resting it next to your own wooden tabletop. Looking over at Tommy Properly, you see that he’s sat with one leg draped over the other, a smug grin resting on his face and his eyes glistening as he watches your every move.

“I suppose you can.”

“Drink?” He offers as he leans forward, uncrossing his legs and begins pulling whiskey glasses from the centre of the lowered table between the two of you and pours himself a single, not wanting to push it too far tonight.

Hesitantly, you nod and wait for him to pour one for you. He holds the glass out to you and waits for you to take it from his fingertips.

You reach to take the glass from him. Your fingertips brush over his and he pulls you towards him by your elbow. You let out a gasp when your met with Tommy’s clothed chest, holding your glass close to your chest and try to push away from him but he just sighs and gruffly says, “I know I haven’t made too much effort to spend some time with you recently but this is me saying I’m sorry so please don’t pull away.”

His blue eyes bore into your own as you look up to study him, “Alright,” you whisper and rest your head against his shoulder, swaying in his arms as he sways with you, humming something you don’t quite recognise straight away. He hums it like a soft lullaby you would sing to a young child.

Breathing in his scent, you nuzzle your head further into his neck and press your lips against the bare expanse of skin that you could reach while you were in your moment of bliss. You sip from your drink and hum along with him, not wanting the moment to end. It was a breather and something you had missed from his soft side in recent days.

“Hey,” he lifts your chin to face him. He presses a kiss to your lips and watches as you chase his lips when he pulls away, “Follow me.”

You let Tommy guide you through the decorated halls of your home until he leads you into your bedroom, glasses long forgotten on one of the sideboards, left for one of the maids to clear away later on.

He undresses you slowly and drinks you in before you do the same to him, spending the rest of the afternoon together, tangled in the no-longer clean sheets in your shared bedroom.

900 ꜰᴏʟʟᴏᴡᴇʀꜱ ꜱᴘᴇᴄɪᴀʟ!

ꜱᴇɴᴅ ɪɴ ᴀɴ ᴀꜱᴋ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴀ ᴄʜᴀʀᴀᴄᴛᴇʀ ᴀɴᴅ ᴀ ᴅᴀᴛᴇ/ᴘʟᴀᴄᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ɪ’ʟʟ ᴡʀɪᴛᴇ ᴀ ʟɪᴛᴛʟᴇ ʟᴇꜱꜱ ᴛʜᴀɴ 1000 ᴡᴏʀᴅꜱ ꜰᴏʀ ʏᴏᴜ ɪɴ ʀᴇꜱᴘᴏɴꜱᴇ.

He rubbed his hands over his face before turning to you. He abruptly stood, placing a kiss on your dimpled hand. You used to pull away quickly whenever he would try to kiss your hands. You only started to let him when he swore that your dimples were what he liked most about you. You always believed your hands were too big to be loveable. You used to view yourself like how you viewed your hands: too big to be loveable. You thought the extra weight on your hips, and the pooch on your stomach made you incapable of being the object of anyone’s affection. You thought you were less of a woman because of the stretch marks that painted your skin. Tommy frowned when you expressed how much you hated those jagged red lines. He spent hours after your confession kissing every stretch mark on your body. You never complained about them again.

Slowly, you learned to love yourself. It wasn’t easy, and Tommy wiped many tears off your cheeks in the process. Eventually, loving yourself was natural to you. Looking back, you wondered why you hated yourself for so long. Your body was strong, and big, and beautiful. You wouldn’t be where you were now without it. You embraced your beauty unapologetically, and never looked back.

“You really will kill me one day, you know that right? Look at you love,” he twirled you in front of him so he could continue his appraisal, “Beautiful, absolutely beautiful.”

He stopped you mid twirl to pull you into his chest. You beamed at him when you felt him press a gentle kiss to your forehead.

“You like the dress then?” you said coyly.

He snorted at you in response, “Of course I like the dress. I have a bloody hard on just looking at you.”

You gasped and hit his chest playfully.

“Thomas, my god we are in public,” you said as red dusted your cheekbones.