Thomas Shelby Imagine - No Whore

No Whore- Part 3

"What are you on about, eh?" he questioned. "Who's been filling your head with this shit?" You looked into his piercing eyes, he thinks he can talk me round this easily you thought. "I don't need people to tell me anything, I can think for myself and I can look after myself," You turned and walked away. "Don't follow me," you shouted behind you. Leaving Tommy stood there speechless, he ran his cigarette across his lips, fucking women, he thought.

He entered the pub and stormed back into the warmth of the snug. His brothers crowded around the table drinking. Tommy's whisky was still sitting there waiting for him, picking it up, he downed it and wiped his hand across his mouth. He quickly poured another one and downed that, feeling the fire in his throat. "You see Finn, that's what woman trouble does to you," shouted Arthur.

Tommy stared at him, "Don't know what you are talking about,". He slumped into the chair with his drink, taking off his hat. "Oh yeah, that wasn't you chasing after y/n, then?" John laughed, nudging Arthur in the ribs. "Has y/n dumped you Tommy?" Finn innocently asked. John and Arthur burst out laughing, thought of THE Thomas Shelby getting dumped too much for them to take. "Shut up, Finn" Tommy warned. "Ah, she's a good woman, is y/n," stated Arthur, "Best you go and sort things out, ey brother?". Tommy stood up, annoyed, slamming his glass down. "Didn't I just tell you all, there's nothing to sort, eh?" with that he walked out.

Bang, shit, you thought someone is here. You convinced yourself to slowly walk towards the door. Scanning the room, you realised you had nothing to protect yourself with. You heard the noise of a chair scrape on your kitchen floor. Walking towards the room, you found him sitting at your table, smoking. "Holy fuck, you scared the shit out of me!" you shouted. He looked at you and frowned. "No fucking booze," he slurred out, pointing to your cupboard. "You probably drank it all, and the contents of The Garrison judging by the state of you," He nodded and reached his hand towards you, beckoning you over.

You didn't move, "What are you doing here, Tom? we said all there is to say," you replayed the nights events in your mind. Proud of how strong you had been. Yet, here you were back in the same position. He raised his arms, "Came to see ya, come here," he begged. His blue eyes burning into you, filled with lust. You found yourself walking towards him, standing in front of him in the chair. He wrapped his muscular arms around you and laid his head against you. Leaning into your warmth, you ran your hand through his hair. You could feel yourself relenting. "I am so fucking sorry," he whispered. You looked down at him. "Nothing happened with the barmaid, I don't think you are one of my whores, ok?" You sighed. He stood from the chair, stumbling and put his hands on either side of your face.

"This, whatever it is we have, fucking scares me," he told you honestly, "You've got inside here," he pointed to his head. "I just fucking don't know how to deal with it," You felt your heart flutter, at last he was opening up. "I think about you, and I'm scared I can't fucking do this, I know I will hurt you," he kissed you softly on the lips. "Well, why didn't you just say that instead of being a dick?," you asked him laughing. "What it is you are scared of?" His eyes traced your face, as if memorising each part of it. He kissed you again, passionately like it meant so much more than before. "Losing you," he admitted. "We take it one day at a time, yeah," you told him, kissing him back.