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LADY OF THE DAWN

Tommy Shelby x Reader

Summary: Tommy doesn't care about her, right? So why would he be bothered that John wants to marry Y/N? Tommy's stubbornness and the inability to process feelings will get heavily tested after he hears the news from his younger brother. ”Speak now or remain silent forever” part of the official's speech says. What's he going to do?

Warnings: name calling, angst, argument, swearing, Tommy's got issues

Notes: I'm really proud of this one. Let me know what y'all think in the comments!

Thomas' hand froze mid air as he was reaching for the cigarette hanging from his lips.

John looked at him with a frown, eyes narrowing at the weird tone of his brother's voice.

”I'm marrying Y/N Y/L/N.” He repeated with confidence, leaning back with his chin tilted upwards. Silence followed his words, as nobody dared to speak purely because of the way that air thickened.

”You're what?” His voice boomed through the Garrison, getting the attention of each family member.

Seemingly unreasonably.

”Don't worry, Tom. It doesn't change anything, I'll keep fulfilling my duties as Shelby.” John added, taking a gulp of whiskey from his glass, feeling the burning fluid flow down his throat. He didn't want to argue or be on bad terms with Thomas, not only because they were family, but also because he knew how much of a pain in the ass he could be as his boss. Hearing it, Thomas snorted taking a drag from a cigarette.

”You're marrying a whore, John?” His voice was low, full of mockery as he fearlessly looked his brother in the eyes. Usually Tom could be more sensitive and understanding when he had to, especially when it comes to family, so even Polly was surprised by his harsh approach.

”She's done with it. Besides, we all know her since we were children. Don't act like you don't know why she ended up doing it.” John barked back, as his patience ran off in a split second.

Confused thoughts filled his busy mind, seeing the determined face of his younger brother. The left leg started pouncing, hard sole of his polished shoe clicked against the floor.

John and Y/N.

Whore. The bitterness of the name that he used to describe her filled his mouth, leaving a bad taste. Reaching for his glass, Thomas knocked it back leaving it empty as the alcohol washed it away. Clearing his throat before he spoke, Tommy chuckled again. Gaze shifted from the empty space he stared in, onto John's face. Tensed jaws and sharp gaze seemed to be flowing in their blood, as both brothers shared the same body language.

Neither of them knew why, as it felt like.. like a battle. Over what? John's confusion showed in his blue eyes, and Tommy took it as a sign of weakness, furrowing his eyebrows with a smirk on his face. Upper hand.

”As long as you're happy, brother.” Words snaked from between his lips in such a velvety, sarcastic way that Arthur's alarms went off, seeing how John's breathing picked up on pace. The whole family could see the harsh, mocking look in his eyes and intimidating body language. The one that he usually saved for the coppers or enemies whenever they tried to reach for the Shelby family.

”Enough of that. This thick atmosphere makes me want to daft.” Ada spoke, her voice sharp and loud as she held her round belly with both hands, easing the tension in the room.

”How do you feel, Ada?” Polly asked, smiling at her niece. Her stomach was getting bigger with each passing week, and soon enough little Karl would be born.

Thomas remained seated for a couple minutes, before he scoffed, getting up. John's gaze fell at his brother again, and their eyes locked before Tommy nodded, turning around as he wordlessly walked out of the Garrison.

Lighting another cigarette, he wondered why his own reaction was so strong. Calming down his breathing, the blue eyed man tilted his head back. Taking a deep breath he felt the tension leaving his body as his muscles relaxed slightly.

Why did he get so combative over such insignificant news?

Y/N hummed to herself, doing laundry in her apartment. Usually she'd use the gramophone, but now it only stood in the corner, broken and not working. Teasing with its promising appearance, so she stopped noticing it entirely. It would be too expensive to fix it anyway.

Her whole apartment wasn't too big, yet big enough to be one of the prettiest places she lived in. Coming from a broken house that couldn't ever be called a home. Pulled into prostitution by her own mother at the young age of seventeen, only a year ago she managed to escape the nightmare, finding a job as a seamstress, she wasn't making thousands, but it was more than enough.

It provided money, roof above her head and.. waking up without feeling disgusted as soon as her eyes opened. She was free. Not stripped by her own dignity and choices anymore.

Y/N became her own woman.

She knew Shelby's since childhood, growing up shoulder to shoulder in Small Heath, at one point they all used to be friends. Sharing pains and joys, before they.. stopped. And it never came back, not fully.

Still in contact, Thomas at one point became her.. client. Coming over every time he'd need it, fuck her wordlessly and leave under the cover of darkness, leaving banknote on the bedsheets behind. Even after she stopped working that way, Thomas kept coming back.

”Stop paying” She begged. Commanded. Warned. Threatened. She tried everything, but he never did. So he became the only reminder of the wounding past, causing periods of depression after each of his visits. So eventually, she stopped opening the door.

He'd knock, at night or during the day but she never opened. Not ready to meet the judgemental gaze, temporarily full of lust and.. understanding, coated in some warm feelings that she never believed in. Man too proud to approach her in public, asking why she would ignore him.

Thomas Shelby was a devil himself, and she didn't believe that he could have any warm bone in his body. Not ever since he grew up, burying the boy that he used to be in the mud. Completely opposite to his younger brother.

John was kind. Funny. Understanding. Handsome. He was everything that every girl could dream of. Y/M always kept him at a distance, not wanting to hurt him by not being able to love him the way he deserved.

What would she say? ”I'm sorry John, I can't give you my heart. Your brother has it, despite being the most heartless and cruel man I've ever met.”?

She wouldn't dare. Looking in the baby blue eyes, full of gentleness and all the love that he could give. John deserved better. But once in her life, she wanted to act selfishly. Whole life doing everything to please people around, she was.. tired. Y/N wanted to be taken care of. Be.. be loved.

So when John showed up one day with a ring in his hand, she accepted gracefully, smiling so hard that her cheeks hurt.

Deep in her thoughts, Y/N smiled at the gentle weight of the ring on her finger. It felt... Good. Her sweet bubble burst, as soon as she heard a knock on the door. With a sigh she got on her feet, heading to the entrance before swinging them open, expecting it to be John or Ada with congratulations.

As soon as she saw the sapphire blue eyes, she tried to close the door right back, but it was too late. His big, rough hand rested on the wooden surface as he pushed them open, marching into her apartment unceremoniously.

”What do you want?” She asked in an emotionless tone before he'd even manage to speak up. One that was the only way she could talk to him without exposing any of her feelings to the dark haired man who stood in the living room, leaning back on the dresser as he smoked, not worried about whether she'd allow it or not.

”So John, eh?” He asked, the tense smirk on his pink lips that was supposed to come out as cocky, appeared way more angry, showing his true emotions. Anger. The only emotion that he never managed to hide from her.

”What do you want, Thomas?” She repeated harshly, not letting him to pull her into his mind games. Thomas chuckled at her combative approach before he put out his cigarette into the ashtray, slowly walking through the apartment. His hands shoved into his pockets, as he tried to be as calm as he could be.

”So that's why you ignored me, eh? To get with my brother.” Tommy spoke up, as he kept walking, hand tracing over the random decorations standing on the shelf before he touched a framed picture. Picture of her and John. He huffed under his breath before turning back to face her. Peaky cap sitting neatly on his head, so low that it was throwing shadow over his eyes. If it wasn't for his powerful blue gaze, they would be nearly invisible. ”That's what you want, eh? To be a Shelby?” He chuckled taking a step forward. ”You're too weak to be one, Y/N. Back off while you still can.” He warned.

”Been handling you for years, haven't I?” She shot back, keeping eye contact. She couldn't afford to show her how weak she really was.

Thomas smirked, tilting his head to the side. ”It paid well.” He replied very calmly, but she could hear the venom in his voice. Deep down Y/N was confused at why he was acting like that. Going out of his way to stop at her apartment and.. argue? It was difficult to determine what it exactly was. But his usual self wouldn't be bothered to stop at her place if he didn't want to fuck.

”Not once I fucking demanded you to pay. I pleaded with you for years to stop doing it.” She said, much louder this time. Y/N knew that he just wanted to hurt her. Her finger was pointing at his chest as she took a step forward, before her gaze became stoic again. ”I pleaded, until i... Until I realized that it was your inner issue that was making you pay. Your need to stay above any kind of intimacy was making you pay me. So I stopped protesting.” She spoke, head held high without shame. Her gaze made him.. embarrassed as she exposed the struggle that he didn't know she ever saw. He hated when she was right when it came to him. Thomas' huffed, trying to laugh it off but one glance at her serious expression made him drop his gaze for a moment before looking back up. ”...but it doesn't matter now, Thomas. If you came for a fuck, you can leave. Because I'm not going to touch you.” Her voice was so calm, body language fully closed on him. He felt... Locked out, and the weird, painful tingling in his chest got more intense. His anger rose even more as her face seemed to be unbothered by his words. By his presence.

”You're using him to become a Shelby.” He stated, not bothered by the fact that he was being unreasonable. ”You got with him, because you knew that you wouldn't get it from me. Because you could find it there.” He pointed at the bed. ”There” at the couch. ”But not here.” He hissed, pointing at the left side of his chest, where his heart kept pounding.

Did he come here to torture me? She wondered, feeling the old scars on her heart opening up further with each word.

”I never expected anything from you, Thomas. Especially not feelings. Your heart is cold and dead like a rock.” Y/N said, not showing even slightly her hurt. Her face remained emotionless as she shrugged. ”You're... You're..” She tried to add, but her voice started breaking slightly. Tommy didn't notice it, too influenced by where the sentence was heading.

”What? A monster? C'mon, love. Let me hear it.” His hard exterior broke, and Y/N caught a glimpse of the panic behind the fury in his eyes. The mocking smile on his face was nothing but the last line of defense. She shook her head.

”No, you're not a monster. But you desperately try to appear as one and... And it works.” She stuttered out, hugging herself lightly as she took a step back to regain some confidence.

Thomas was furious that she already managed to get to him. To dig into his mind and dig out the most painful and hidden things. Pacing back and forth, he ran his hand over his face, visibly angry. She stripped him from his mask, defense and his collected composure.

Y/N could see how angry, bothered and uncomfortable he was. She just... Wanted it to end. The stagnation, foolishness hopefulness as she waited for him just weeks ago. Waiting for something to change despite each meeting ending with tears in her eyes and pain in her heart.

”Just go, Tommy.” She replied, quietly, gaze shifting down at the floor. The atmosphere in the room got weirdly... Sensitive and intimate, but she didn't let herself become hopeful.

His head shot up at her words, and seeing her body language her realized that... It wasn't any kind of game. She wasn't trying to get back at him or make him jealous by getting with John. She was... Tired. Hurt. The realization hit hard as he understood that he himself was one of the thorns in the crown she carried around. Willingly.

The mask from his face slipped, hitting the ground in the silence that hung in the air between them, revealing the panic and confused feelings. Revealing how he couldn't handle the feelings that grew in his chest years ago, which roots slowly but surely climbed upwards to his heart. To his mind, leading to the point where they were now.

Standing in her tiny flat, broken and confused. Lost in the race to not fail, to not bow their heads towards each other.

”What the fuck do you want from me, Y/N? Confessions? You won't get them.” He stated, pacing back and forth. Y/N didn't look up, listening to the clicking of his shoes against her wooden floor.

She just shook her head, taking a deep breath out of how tiring the whole interaction was. But before she could say anything, he yelled again.

”What the fuck do you want me to do! You.. you can't marry him, you don't even fucking love him, do you? It's a lie. A fucking lie, Y/N.” his voice was full of frustration, as he took off his cap, setting it on the table.

She shifted uncomfortably at her feet. He was honest, not hiding anymore so she couldn't lie either.

Shaking her head lightly she sighed, confessing.

”N-no, I don't. But with time.. with time maybe i will. With him I have the chance to be loved. To love and not hurt.” She explained in a quiet voice, and Thomas couldn't look at her while she spoke. Looking down in shame he felt how tense his body was, stomach filled with anxiety and pain at the whole conversation.

”What do you want? Jewelry? Big house? Clothes? Name it, Y/N. Name it and I will fucking get it for you.” He hissed, taking a step forward with his finger pointing at her silhouette, causing just anger in her previously calm self. She bolted out from the place she was standing on, as she stood eye to eye with him, her fists landing on his chest in a couple hits as she yelled.

”I don't! Want! Your fucking! Money!” Each word pronounced clearly and in a rhythm with her blows. ”I just want to be loved, you son of a bitch!”

Her closeness affected him even more, as the distance between them was the one thing that helped him think clearly during the whole conversation. Stopping her series of blows, Thomas grabbed her wrists, pulling her closer as he leaned his forehead on hers with a sigh, shaking it lightly.

”Don't.” He pleaded. ”Don't make me say it. Not now. I need time, you... You need to give it to me. Time to learn.” He whispered, stuttering as he tried to make sense in his words.

”You need to go, Tommy.” She whispered back and his grip on her wrists became even stronger, nearly bruising. She didn't even wince, already used to his rough touch, manhandling and his struggle with being affectionate even to his family.

”Don't marry him.” He repeated, her words falling on deaf ears. Pulling her closer, he let out a shallow breath as their noses brushed against each other. His eyes were squeezed shut. ”You feel it. I know you do.” He said quietly, almost like someone else would hear them. ”I feel it too.” Thomas added in a low tone, whisper so quiet that she could act like it never happened.

Her head was a mess, the sensation of his body warmth being so close to her. His almost gentle touch on her cheeks. The words that she waited years to hear. Y/N felt almost dizzy.

”What do you want from me, Thomas” She asked, but the question got interrupted by her heavy sigh.

He was quiet for a second, jaw clenched tight as he thought how to word it without making himself feel even more pathetic.

”I want you to... To not marry him. To give me time and.. and teach me how you want it.” He went around the whole topic, choosing words carefully and stuttering lightly which made her chuckle silently, a tiny smile appearing on her lips. Heavy sigh.

”You're a pain in my ass, Thomas Shelby.” She said, letting her body get softer in his hands as he carefully wrapped his arms around her waist. This touch was different, and he knew it. That is what was making him so nervous. So... Uncomfortable.

Laughing quietly he wondered if it was really that easy. If things would be different way sooner if he really tried, just like now. He moved closer, hugging his cheek to her own, wet lips grazing over her skin in the meantime before he chuckled.

”Come on, I'm not that bad. I.. can be better, I think.” He said, before letting his hands slide down her body, but she caught them quickly, pulling away.

”No, no, no. We're not doing anything. And we won't for a long time.” She stated, seeing a smirk on his lips, but as her expression became more serious, his followed. Another sigh.

”Tom, if I'm about to wait, I need... Need more than this.“ She tried her best to hide the desperation in her voice, not really successfully.

He stopped smiling, as he sighed again becoming.. nervous once more. Frustrated. She waited, allowing herself to grow hopeful. Just one last time. So she waited.

Waited as minutes passed, but he didn't say anything, looking in his head for the right words. Only when her expression dropped, saddened by his inability to say what she needed, he pushed it through his throat.

”I... I want you to teach me how to love you the way you need.” He said, boldly looking into her eyes. It was the one moment that he needed to man up, to save the chance that he kept losing for years.

Almost gave it up for his brother.

”Fucking please.” He added, grabbing her hand. Tears swelled in her eyes as she laughed quietly, touched by his words and actions. It was so... New. So exciting.

Nodding weakly, she pulled him closer, throwing herself into his embrace. Thomas froze for a moment, before he hugged her back, letting out a shaky breath. They stood like that for a moment, before he mumbled an apology.

”For what?” She asked.

”Everything. For... Everything.” He mumbled into her neck, and she smiled again. ”What now?” He asked eventually, as she pulled away from him.

Y/N smiled, looking at the ring on her finger as she played with it for a minute, seeing how Tommy's eyes widened. Only a couple moments later she fully took it out, putting it in his hand.

”Now... Now you will go and talk to your brother. Confess to what you did.” She said seriously, tucking her hair behind her ear. Thomas knew she was serious, and after so many years of bad treatment, he didn't have the right to bargain.

He nodded slowly, knowing that he'll have to face him, better sooner than later. Y/N moved out of the way, gesturing at the door and he rolled his eyes with a light smile, before he pulled the cap onto his head as he headed to the entrance.

Passing by Y/N he leaned down, puckering out his lips for a kiss that never came as she shook her head. ”Nu-uh. For now I'm engaged.” She said, and he roed his eyes again, escaping her apartment.

When he was a couple metres away she yelled.

”Shelby!” Making him stop and turn around, looking up to her. Y/N dropped something shiny towards him, which he caught into his calloused hand.

As soon as he opened it, the shiny one pound coin caught his eye. Looking up at her with a question in his eyes, he made Y/N laugh.

”Thanks for the visit, Shelby.” She added, looking down at him with a smirk and chin tilted up. Realization hit him as she closed the door, and Tommy stood for a moment looking at the shiny coin in his hand before he tucked it into his pocket.

...and that's how Thomas Shelby had to become a whore to save the chance for love, that he nearly lost.

Taglist:

@everyonesawhore @forgottenpeakywriter @muhahaha303 @cilliansprincess @shynovelist @pet1t3 @trixie23 @1nterstellarcha0s @tommyshelbywhore @gaslysainz @star017 @greenshinigamieyes @c6llian @lau219 @no-fooking-fighting @sagemastah @honeymoon8 @in0320 @hanawrites404 @femefetalelevelingup @shroombloom-rry @shelbysproperty @sunpuffsstuff @pinguwrites @fvllenstqr @anxietybutterfly @thatonesinglefriend

THIS JUST MADE MY DAY!!!

This is an ancient request from a lovely anon (who I think might be #tea anon - let me know if it is you babe!) and I’m so sorry it’s taken almost literal eons for me to write it. I hope you enjoy it all the same and thanks for your patience 🤍 Please do (all) let me know what you think - I love to hear it! xx

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x fem!reader

Summary: Charlie’s governess has an accident and Tommy finds himself drawn to her as she recovers.

Warnings: Nothing but fluff and sexual tension! Oh, and a smidge of bad language.

Word count: 3385 MASTERLIST

The Governess

A soft knock at the door roused her from the novel she was trying to read, though the pain in her leg was growing more distracting as her medication wore off. Assuming it was Frances or one of the maids come to bring her some tea - they often did at this time of the day - she called for them to come in, not doing anything to rearrange her tousled hair or nightdress. They had seen her in bed for the last few days and in much worse repair due to the effects of the strong tablets the doctor had prescribed.

So it was a bit of a shock to find none other than her employer, Thomas Shelby OBE, standing at her door.

“You’re awake,” he commented as she hurriedly pulled up the covers and ran a hand over her messy curls.

“Yes sir,” she replied quickly, wishing she could evaporate. She had only been working for him for a few months as governess to his young son Charlie, and in all that time he had barely said more than ten words to her. She was slightly afraid of him - everyone had warned her of his fearsome reputation - but with his angled features, softened by the curve of his full lips, and bright, burning blue eyes she couldn’t deny that he was one of the most handsome men she had ever encountered. And now he was seeing her in bed, her hair like a bird’s nest and in her least favourite nightie (everything else was in the laundry due to her enforced bedrest).

“How are you feeling?” he asked, striding across the room to peer out the window at the expansive grounds around his stately home. This wasn’t her usual room - he had deemed it too much to expect her to be up in the attics when she had a broken leg, so he had installed her in one of the guest bedrooms just down the hall from his own. He recalled the feel of her in his arms as he carried her up to this bed, not that she would remember it, off her head on pain medication.

“A little better, thank you, Mr Shelby,” she stammered, wondering why he was here. “Is Charlie alright? I’m sorry if I frightened him.”

She had been playing with the small blonde boy she was charged with educating and caring for, out on the grass after two days of wet weather. In a completely freak accident she had managed to slip whilst chasing him, falling in such a way that she broke her ankle. The pain had been sudden and immense and she only dimly recalled his little terrified face as she screamed. It made her heart clench to think she had scared him.

“He’s fine now, it was just a shock. He’s been asking for you though,” he replied, turning slowly, the full weight of his stare making her breath catch in her throat. “He’s with Polly until you’re up and about again.”

“I’d love to see him, if he wanted to,” she smiled. She missed his company - his excited chattering and quick mind, the latter which he undoubtedly got from his father. The cheery nature however must have been his mother’s, she thought, smothering a smile.

She knew lots of people thought being a governess was a thankless job, filled with bratty children, reserved for the kind of women whose family had fallen on hard times and whose educated daughters were forced to fend for themselves. But she wasn’t one of those women and Charlie Shelby wasn’t one of those children. An only child, like him, she had been raised with love but very little else, and she had worked hard at school, determined to get out of the poverty she had been born into. Her parents had been so proud when she got her first job, caring for two little girls in a big house in the posh part of town.

Now almost thirty she was well regarded as an educator and when the need for Charlie to have a proper governess, and not just a nanny, came to be, it was Polly Grey who sought her out, impressed by her reputation.

She had been apprehensive to accept a post working for the Shelby’s. Everyone in Birmingham knew them and what kind of dark things the family was involved in, nevermind their more upwardly mobile pretentions. But she couldn’t really turn her nose up at the prospect of a salary that would help her much further on her way to a little home of her own. Maybe even enough to start a family. If she ever had the time to find a man who might want to do that with her, she’d thought wryly.

“I think he’d like that, I’ll tell him to look in tomorrow, if you’re well enough,” he replied, calling her back to the present, extracting a cigarette from his case before offering them to her. She hesitated a moment before accepting, sliding the little white cylinder from the sleek, silver holder. He leaned in to light it for her and suddenly she was enveloped by his scent - smokey and woody with something sharp beneath.

He caught her slight intake of breath as he leaned close to her and smiled to himself. Without her usually neat curls pinned in place and demure dark dresses she was even more alluring than usual. He could imagine her like this, hair dishevelled for entirely different reasons. Again he found himself remembering the lightness of her in his arms as he brought her here, her soft murmuring voice and the warmth of her breath against his neck, the sweet smell of vanilla and rose on her skin.

He stood back and cleared his throat. It wasn’t appropriate to think about the governess like that. Charlie liked her and she was, as far as he could tell, very good at her job. It wouldn’t do to fuck it up by trying to fuck her. Polly would have his balls if she had to go out and find another one.

Just at that moment, Frances tapped the door, bearing a tea tray.

“Sorry Mr Shelby, sir, I didn’t mean to interrupt,” she apologised quickly but he brushed it away.

“It’s time for my tablets,” Y/N explained, accepting a glass of water from the housekeeper as she shook two large white pills into her palm from the little bottle beside the bed. “Though they do make me awfully dopey. I hope I can stop taking them soon.”

“Right well, I’ll leave you be. I’m glad you’re recovering well,” he said, a little stiffly, leaving just as quickly as he arrived. Frances watched the young governess as her eyes followed him out the door. She knew that look - there was barely a housemaid in Arrow House that didn’t lust after their short-tempered employer. But it was interesting that he had come to check on the girl, she thought. None of the maids could claim such an honour when they were under the weather.

“Do you need anything Miss Y/L/N?” she asked kindly.

“No Frances and please will you call me Y/N?” she smiled back. She hated the somewhat false superiority of her position in the house. She wasn’t better than anyone else who took Thomas Shelby’s shilling.

“Sorry, force of habit,” the older woman smiled. “You will let me know if you need help though won’t you?”

“I will, thank you, you’re all too good looking after me. I feel terrible adding to your chores.”

The older lady waved away her concerns. Yes of course she could do without an invalid in the house, but it wasn’t Y/N’s fault she was laid up. And she was a sweet girl, always kind to the other members of staff and little Charlie Shelby clearly adored her.

“Just ring the bell, don’t be trying to get up when you’ve had those pills. It wouldn’t do if you fell and hurt yourself more,” she said, with a motherly air, as she left.

Alone once more, already feeling the woozy haze of the heavy duty medication kicking in, Y/N’s head was in a spin. Why had Thomas Shelby come to see her? Why now after all these months did he feel the need to talk to her? He had looked at her oddly too. Was it just guilt that she got hurt taking care of his son, or something else..?

*****

A few days later and Y/N was officially losing her mind with being stuck in bed but at least she’d finally managed to wean back on the drugs that made her feel like a zombie with narcolepsy. The worst part of taking them were the bits she couldn’t remember, or only had hazy recollections of. As she became more lucid she began to remember snatches of things, and she couldn’t be sure which were dreams and which were memories. Which was disconcerting because she had an awful feeling Mr Shelby might have carried her up the stairs and that she might have mumbled how nice he smelt. She could only hope one of both of those things had been a dream and her sanity required her to assume that they had.

Charlie had taken to coming to see her in the mornings after she’d had breakfast and one of the maids had helped her freshen up. It would be a while before she would be properly up and about to conduct his lessons like normal, but they read stories in her bed and he was able to practice his writing and numbers, as well as drawing her pictures, at the beautiful cherry wood dressing table in front of the window.

It was in the middle of one of these morning sessions that Tommy found himself upstairs in search of his glasses. Hearing his son’s voice coming from the governess’s room he paused by the partially open door. Peaking through he could see her on the bed, dressed more appropriately (to his disappointment), the cast on her leg propped on a cushion. Charlie was snuggled into her side as she helped him sound out the words in the book they were reading.

He didn’t know how long he stood there, out of sight, listening to the soft, encouraging lilt of her voice, her musical laugh as Charlie made a joke about something. As he finished a particularly tricky sentence she praised him, dropping a kiss to his thick blonde hair and he beamed up at her.

Tommy felt something flutter in his chest, a simultaneous tightness and lightness, at witnessing the moment between his son and this bright, beautiful woman. Swallowing thickly he shook himself and hurriedly went about his business.

*****

In the afternoons, Charlie spent his time with his Aunt Polly or playing with his little cousin Billy, and Y/N was left alone. Desperate for something to keep her mind occupied, and having exhausted all the reading material in her room, she carefully eased herself out of bed, intent on raiding Mr Shelby’s library. But she barely made it three steps before a mis-timed shifting of her weight sent pressure through her injured leg and she collapsed in a heap and a shout of pain.

Tommy heard the thud from above and sprang up to investigate, his soldier’s instincts still in charge, even after all this time. He knew it was probably nothing - luckily a bang these days was usually just one of the maids overzealously attacking the furniture and he nearly always left it for Frances to sort out. However Y/N’s room was just above his office and so he set off, almost colliding with Frances on the landing.

Knocking and quickly entering they found Y/N on the floor, trying to pull herself back upright against the dresser.

“What are you doing? Are you hurt?” exclaimed Frances, but Tommy was quicker, gently lifting Y/N and supporting her back into bed.

“Are you alright?” he murmured and she was suddenly very aware of his large hands on her body, the closeness of his face to hers as she had no choice but to cling to him.

“I’m ok, just over-estimated my abilities,” she huffed more grumpily than she meant to, flustered by his proximity. Their eyes locked and she felt her cheeks heat up.

“I’ll fetch you some tea,” said Frances, keen to escape the atmosphere that had suddenly begun to fill the room, breaking the moment between them.

He helped her re-settle on the bed and then finally moved back, giving her enough space for her brain to start to work again.

“Are you sure you didn’t hurt yourself?” he asked gently, pulling a chair closer to her bed. For the first time since she’d started working for him the stony mask he wore had slipped, his face soft, eyes full of concern.

“No, honestly, I’ve injured nothing more than my pride,” she smiled wryly. “I’m just so bored,” she confessed, emboldened by his shift in demeanour, “I wanted something new to read.”

He sat back, cogs turning, a hint of a smile playing on his lips and her heart did a flip flop in her chest. He never smiled, or at least not at anyone who wasn’t Charlie.

“Wait here,” he said, rising and quickly making his way out of the room.

“Where else would I be going,” she muttered with a roll of her eyes as he disappeared down the hall.

*****

“There’s something not right about these contracts,” she mused quietly, brow furrowed as she studied the dense legal document on her lap.

He looked up from the paper he was reading, removing his glasses as he did so. For the past three days he had been spending his afternoons in her room, relieving her boredom by enlisting her help in the immense amount of paperwork his company seemed to generate. His main secretary was off sick and he had never known it so busy. Or appreciated how much they must actually do for him. He resolved to arrange to give them a raise when they got back.

“What do you mean?,” he commented, dropping his pile of papers onto the dressing table and coming to lean over her shoulder to read.

She tried to ignore the fact that she could feel the warmth of his body radiating against hers, or that she was once again surrounded by the warm, smokey scent of him.

“See, this bit here… it contradicts this clause here,” she pointed, directing his eye as he tried very hard not to look at the neckline of her dress.

“Fuck… shift over,” he muttered, trying to sit down until she prodded him hard in the hip.

“I have a broken leg, I can’t just ‘shift over’. Come round the other side if you want to sit.”

All manner of employer-employee deference had been eradicated over the last few days. She no longer feared him or stuttered at his presence. He was actually quite funny when he wanted to be, she found, and their conversations had been easy and free flowing as they worked.

He stood back, looked at her for a moment and then very quickly, before she could object, he scooped her up and deposited her gently slightly further into the bed. “Much better,” he declared, tucking the cushion under her leg as she spluttered in indignation, and seated himself down beside her, plucking the pages from her hands.

“Mr Shelby!” she exclaimed, belatedly, and he fixed her with an amused, half smile.

“Ms Y/L/N,” he replied smoothly, holding her stare for a beat longer than she felt was proper when his face was that close to hers. “Now, tell me what you think is wrong,” he continued, leafing through the pages.

She wrestled them back, her fingers brushing his, shivers running through her at the touch. Composing herself she leant towards him slightly, angling the pages so he could see, and began to take him through her concerns.

After her quick spot on the contract failure, he had her read several others, checking for discrepancies. They worked until the dusk began to draw in and the words began to swim in front of her eyes. Yawning widely she tried to rouse herself to engage with the small typeset and complicated legalese but the words swirled away from her once more.

He became aware of a weight pressing against his arm and looked down to see her leaning against him. Before he could comment she let out a tiny snuffle of a snore and he realised she had fallen asleep. Smiling and unwilling to wake her, he carefully shifted so he could tuck her against his side, her head in the crook of his shoulder, he carried on reading.

And he really did try and concentrate. Remain professional. But then she made a delightfully cute little humming noise and snuggled into him, her warm breath fanning across his neck, the smell of roses and vanilla invading his senses. It was getting harder and harder to stop himself from just kissing her.

“Tommy…” she murmured and he turned, looking down just as she woke with a start, finding herself almost lip to lip with him. She pushed herself back in shock but his arm was still wrapped behind her shoulders and he didn’t let her get far.

“Mr Shelby, I’m so sorry, how embarrassing,” she babbled, feeling her face flush. But his cool fingertips brushed against her heated cheek, slightly rough from years handling guns and other weapons.

“I think you should call me Tommy,” he said softly, catching her with the depth of his hypnotic ocean eyes.

“It wouldn’t be proper,” she stammered, her gaze flicking from his eyes to his soft lips and back again.

He smirked, cupping her cheek a little more firmly. “Well if that’s what you think, you’re going to find this extremely inappropriate,” he whispered, leaning to brush his lips against hers.

She gasped slightly at the sensation before leaning into him, pressing her lips against his more strongly. Feeling her respond, he began to move his mouth against hers, in perfect tandem as he threaded his fingers into her hair, ruining her neatly arranged style.

“Mr Sh- Tommy… I’m not sure this is a good idea,” she said breathlessly as they broke apart, his hand sliding to cup her neck.

“Maybe not but I’ve wanted to do that for months,” he replied, catching her mouth with his once more, hearing her whimper as her fingers curled into his shirt and his tongue slipped between her lips, dancing with hers.

A knock at the door had them springing apart, and as Frances appeared in the doorway she found them both bright eyed and flushed.

“I just wanted to know if you would both like a dinner tray bringing up again this evening?” she asked, biting the inside of her cheek to keep from laughing at the pair staring at her like naughty school children.

“Thank you Frances,” he said quickly, rearranging his features into something he hoped resembled authority.

She disappeared and he turned to Y/N, seeing her red-faced and swollen lipped. Unable to stop himself, he pulled her back for more, withdrawing with a groan when her small hands pushed gently against his chest.

“We can’t do this Tommy. I’m Charlie’s teacher. It’s not right, it’ll confuse him,” she said, eyes bright and wide. “And I’m not that kind of woman,” she added, chin raised defiantly.

He brushed a lock of hair behind her ear, studying her with an intense blue stare.

“I know you’re not,” he replied softly, seeing her breath hitch as his fingers traced down the side of her neck. “What about if you were more than just his teacher?” He watched her bite her lip, white teeth nibbling soft pink and he felt his cock press painfully against his trousers.

“And be what, exactly?” she asked in a whisper.

She was beautiful and clever and his son adored her. She was perfect, the woman he didn’t even know he was looking for, right under his nose for months.

He leaned in and pressed his lips to hers in a soft, chaste kiss.

“Be mine.”

Thanks for reading! To the anon who requested, I’d love to hear what you thought, and the same goes to all the rest of you. Please do feel free to get in touch in all the usual ways 🤍

Masterlists: TOMMY SHELBY | MAIN

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